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Issue 49.6 of the Review for Religious, November/December 1990. ; Liberation and thel~iturgical Year How to Read St. John of the Cross Lasting Friends Volume 49 Number 6 November/December 1990 REVIEW I:oa REL~GIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at St. Louis University by the Mis-souri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus: Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Blvd., Rm. 428; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis MO. Single copies $3.50. Subscriptions: United States $15.00 for one year; $28.00 for two years. Other countries: US $20.00 for one year; if airmail, US $35.00 per year. For subscription orders or change of address, write: REVIEW FOR RELIGOUS; P,O. BOX 6070: Duluth, MN 55806. POSTMASTER: Send address changes to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. ©1990 REVIEW yon RELIGIO~S. David L. Fleming, S.J. Philip C. Fischer, S.J. Elizabeth McDonough, O.P. Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Editor Associate Editor Canonical Counsel Editor Assistant Editors David J. Hassel, S.J. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Wendy Wright, Ph.D. Advisory Board Mary Margaret Johanning, S.S.N.D. Sean Sammon, F.M.S. Suzanne Zuercher, O.S.B. November/December 1990 Volume 49 Number 6 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Eliza-beth McDonough, O.P.; 5001 Eastern Avenue; P.O. Box 29260; Washington, D.C. 20017. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from REVIEW roR RELIGIOUS; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. "Out of print" issues are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, M! 48106. A major portion of each issue is also available oft cassette recordings as a service for the visu-ally Impaired. Write to the Xavier Society for the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY 10010. PRISMS. As we come to the end of another calendar year, we also find our-selves bridging the end and beginning of our Christian liturgical year. November is like a summary or review month--a past looking towards a future. It always begins with the two days commemorating all the saints and then all the faithful departed; it closes with a Sunday celebration of the eschatological feast of Christ the King. With Advent and with the Christmas season, we listen and we look--listening anew to the words of biblical prophets and looking upon the Word become flesh. Perhaps we better describe it as a future looking to the present. The divine call of hope coming through the prophets and being enfleshed in Jesus touches the human heart. It rouses the deepest of hu-man desires--to experience oneself as free in a world which is free and to experience peace within oneself and peace without. Most of the arti-cles in this issue involve a looking back and a looking ahead. At the same time, they also touch the present--with our experience of peace in its vari-ous forms, and with our experience of freedom. The articles by Kennington, Rich, van Breemen, and Kerr take up various implications of what has been identified as liberation theology. The origins of liberation theology are found in the so-called Third World countries, particularly in theological writers of South America. More broadly used in the Church, this theology has become a studied way of understanding, articulating, and living out our Christian faith so that we may affect situations and policies which tend to breed injustice and un-freedom. Liberation theology can sometimes seem to condone or even advocate some kind of violence. But no theology can merit the name Christian which is not permeated with a peace which only God can give. Liberation ~theology, especially when viewed in its spirituality, is most of all a theology of the kind of peace sung about by the angels on that first Christmas night. Perhaps one or other of these articles will be a kind of Bethlehem star for us, leading us to a place of greater freedom and peace, either within ourselves or without. Of special interest to a number of our readers are certain upcoming anniversaries. With the feast of St. John of the Cross celebrated in De-cember, there begins the 400th anniversary of the death of this great mys-tic, 1591-1991. Steven Payne, O.C.D., editbr of the Carmelite journal 1101 Review for Religious, November-December 1990 Spiritual Life, provides us with some contemporary approaches to John's spiritual doctrine. Thomas Moore, O.C.D.S., tries to provide us with some basic directions to enter more profitably into the rich teaching of John. In celebration of another anniversary, our January/February 1991 is-sue will be unique in its focused selection of Ignatian spirituality arti-cles and book reviews. The year 1991 marks the 50th volume of REVIEW FOR RELiGiOUS, and the first issue of this volume will honor the Ignatian spirituality tradition, which is celebrating the combined anniversaries of 450 years since the founding of the Society of Jesus and 500 years since the birth of St. Ignatius Loyola. As we close out the first half century of this publication with this is-sue, the staff of REVtEW FOR RELmtOUS wishes all of our readers a Christ-mastide full of the blessings of peace and of freedom. David L. Fleming, S.J. Bethlehem Star: Spiritual Direction in Social Action Ministries Paddy Kennington Paddy Kennington is presently teaching literacy education in shelters for homeless people in Raleigh, North Carolina. With her master's degree in counseling and psy-chology and a graduate certificate in spiritual direction from Washington Theologi-cal Union, she also serves as an area formation director for the Third Order, Society of St. Francis, Episcopal Church. Her address is 2404-1C Bradford Dr.; Wilson, North Carolina 27893. Spiritual direction training and spiritual directors can become part of the praxis of social ministries. If the goals and purposes of social ministries are restricted to serving food, providing shelter, and legislative advo-cacy, worthy as those activities are, then God's wider plan of transform-ing grace and unity may never happen. The learning accumulated in spiri-tual direction training and experience can be part of the organization and spirituality of a social ministryin the Church. A graced life is not a pri-vate life. We are meant to become "breach menders and restorers of ru-ined houses" (Is 58: 12). One way to rethink thb relationship betWeen spiritual direction and social ministry as spirituality in action is to 'draw parallels between the two in the context of the concrete experiences of volunteers and street persons in a soup kitchen. This seems to me to be one method to dem-onstrate the thesis that spiritual direction has a role in social ministry. The Center for Spirituality and Justice in New York City has investigated the necessity to include an awareness of social consciousness as part of the spiritual direction relationship, t The reciprocity between spiritual di-rection skills and principles and social action is equally important in the daily hands-on ministries of shelters, clothing banks, and soup kitchens. 803 Review for Religious, November-December 1990 Two stories of volunteers and street people illustrate the need to include spiritual direction with social action. The Soup Kitchen Antonio In early 1983, four of us from the Social Apostolate soup kitchen in Savannah, Georgia, organized an emergency winter night shelter. The next year, we added an evening soup kitchen and health care. Eventu-ally, I became the first director. 1 met many men and women like Anto-nio who appeared one fall evening in our soup line. He was wearing an over-sized woman's coat. Antonio's suitcase had remained on the bus that left him while he was looking for food. What funds Antonio had in his pockets had vanished quickly into slippery street fingers. After visiting the health-care clinic in our building, we discovered Antonio was thoroughly infested with lice. We also realized he had a men-tal disability and with his friendly, innocent manner, was not able to cope with the violence of street life. Antonio arrived in town in time for the opening of our winter shelter. Luckily, we were able to get him off the street each night. After a few days, the local Catholic Worker became Antonio's tem-porary home. He was an outgoing person and tried to fit in with our com-munity at the soup kitchen and with the Catholic Worker family. Anto-nio wanted to work and contribute to his keep. But his attempts at typ-ing for us and for the health-care nurses were disastrous. One of the nurses convinced him to write to his family in New Jersey. We began to get frantic phone calls from them, and were able to persuade his fa-ther not to get on the first plane to rescue Antonio. One winter evening as the volunteers were converting the hall from soup kitchen to night shelter, Antonio and I sat next to the front door while we waited to take the names of that night's guests. He turned to me and with his eyes averted as usual, asked, "Paddy, what's this place really all about?" I thought a moment and then said, "It's like a bus station, Antonio. People get off the bus, out of the streets, for a little while. They stay with us until they get back on the bus and move on." He turned that over in his mind and said, "Yeah, that's right. That's what I did. I'm staying here and then I'll move on, too." Antonio did leave eventually but not before he had struggled with his reasons for suddenly running away from his home in New Jersey. I think he struck out on his own because he wanted to know if he could take care of himself. Antonio's parents were overly protective and his Spiritual Direction in Social Action Ministries / 805 brother pushed him hard to excel beyond his handicap. On the other hand, his disability did not keep Antonio from searching, questioning, and striving for what he believed to be his freedom. His questions and sense of independence may have taken a different expression from yours or mine. But the restless heart of St. Augustine was the same for Anto-nio as it is for all of us. In the spring while the azaleas and dogwoods were blooming, Anto-nio returned to his home and family. In the last letter we received from him, he told us about the computer course he was taking. One afternoon the following fall, a care-package of used jeans and winter shirts from Antonio arrived at the shelter. He had not forgotten those still on the bus. St. Teresa discovered after experiencing the prayer of union, that the Lord had been waiting many years for her "yes" to the Creator's gift of spiritual treasures and blessings.2 In his desire to d~cide the course of his own life, Antonio had said yes and gone out to find the courage to make his dream of freedom and independence come true. Bonnie I am always amazed at the intensity of emotion sometimes shown by volunteers toward the poor and street people. Initially, most soup kitchen volunteers are hesitant and even afraid. Few are prepared for the reality of human degradation, begging, and manipulation one is exposed to as part of the daily routine of providing minimal food to hundreds of hungry men, women, and children. Some turn away in tears or disgust; others are drawn to their fellow human beings through compassion, like moths to a flame. But sooner or later if they don't walk away, the inevi-table questions will arise. How can they live like this? Why doesn't the city do something? Where will they sleep tonight? They are all so sad; doesn't this get to you after awhile? Bonnie was a kind, loving woman from one of the many church groups that volunteer on a regular basis one evening each month. I had noticed Bonnie on her firsf day of volunteering while she was serving sandwiches. During her next few evenings in the serving line, she was withdrawn and reluctant to interact with the guests, as though she would rather be in the kitchen. Bonnie avoided any friendly contact except to plop a sandwich on a waiting plate. I had hoped for an opportunity to speak to Bonnie privately during the cleanup routine. "Well, how was it in the serving line tonight, Bon-nie?" I asked as dishes and pots were being scrubbed. She looked down at her feet and said anxiously, "Seeing all those men eating here really bothers me. My husband and I work hard for what Review for Religious, November-December 1990 we have. Why can't they get a job? Why am I expected to take care of them with my hard-earned tax money?" Clearly, Bonnie was torn emotionally between the teachings of Je-sus on love and charity she had heard all her life, and her present feel-ings of indignation, anger, and disgust. And the ~onflict inside showed on her face. This was not a time for reminders that we are to pray for God's forgiveness and strive for empathy for others. At that moment, what Bonnie needed was understanding and peace. I knew she could not yet be aware that coming to resolution about her feelings and attitude to-ward the soup kitchen guests meant that she herself would become the broken bread offered by Christ on the cross. Bonnie was too full of bit-terness and frustration. "I'd like you to meet one of our guests sometime, Bonnie," I said to her gently. "He's quite a character. And I hope you'll give us and yourself a second chance before you make up your mind about soup kitch-ens and street people." "I don't think I'll be back," Bonnie said. 'I just can't stand seeing all those lazy men ripping us all off, when they could be working and taking care of themselves." Her face was lined with anger and she pushed the broom even harder on the dining hall floor. I shared a few words of comfort but I did not push her to commit to another volunteer shift. Bonnie needed time to sort out her feelings. About two months later, I saw Bonnie walk in the front door with her church group. She still had a look of hostility and reluctance. I was afraid that if she could not get beyond her anger, she might lash out at one of the guests, or cause them to react to her in a negative way. "I'm glad you came back, Bonnie," I said. "Maybe you'd rather work in the kitchen instead of the soup line today." "No," Bonnie replied grimly. "I'm going to try the serving line one more time." "Maybe you'll get to meet Jim later," I suggested. "We'll see," she said. I was busy that suppertime and didn't get back to Bonnie until the end of the serving. I had Jim by the hand when we approached her. "Jim, I want you to meet Bonnie,'" I introduced them. Jim smiled a semi-toothless grin and shoved his hand toward Bonnie for a friendly shake. She shook his hand. I wondered what it took from her to give that little inch. "Jim is a regular here, Bonnie. He's been with us a long time," I explained. "Jim is one of the first guests we were able to help get off Spiritual Direction in Social Action Ministries / il07 the streets. Now he helps out with cleanup and carrying in heavy food boxes." I backed out of the conversation as Jim was bending Bonnie's ear about his latest fishing exploits. Later Bonnie found me in the laundry room. "Jim's a real charac-ter and I realize why you brought him over to me," she said. "I haven't changed my mind about the rest of the men. But I do see that there may be more to the soup kitchen and the guests than I've been willing to admit," Bonnie confided. "I guess I need some time here to figure it all out." "All of us had to begin somewhere, Bonnie," I replied. "Maybe a place to start is thinking of the guests, volunteers, even the food--the whole soup kitchen--as sharing God's love. I would be glad to listen any-time you want to talk through your frustrations," I said encouragingly. We exchanged a hug. Bonnie gave me a big grin when she left with her friends. As a shelter and soup kitchen director, I found I needed to be teacher, counselor, community organizer, and peacemaker. But there was also a greater need than crisis intervention and social work referral for housing and health care. In the context of providing meals and shel-ter in a church social ministry, people were drawn closer together. They were forced to interact, ask questions, and struggle with conflicting emo-tions and injustices. I saw the need for a guide who had been exposed to the tradition and teachings of spiritual directipn. One who has lived enough of his or her own spiritual journey to be able to recognize oth-ers' struggles and to offer spiritual leadership beyond cooking, cleaning, and begging would be a good job description. Spiritual Development and Social Ministry Antonio, Bonnie, and many others in the soup kitchen have shown me that there is a lot more to hands-on church social ministries than giv-ing out sandwiches, collecting clothes, and providing shelter. I had scarcely been at St. Luke's soup kitchen (Atlanta, Georgia) two months before I realized that volunteers' needs were as critical as those of street people. Having worked with a large number of soup kitchen participants in the last eleven years, ! have seen that they often progress through spiri-tual growth stages. These stages generally correspond to the spiritual de-velopment outlined in the writings of such spiritual masters as St.-Ter-esa of Avila, St. Ignatius, St. Augustine, Thomas Greene, and Bernard Lonergan to name a few. 1. Awakening:3 Soup kitchen volunteers and guests are spiritual seek-ers in much the same way as directees are in spiritual direction. The soup Review for Religious, November-December 1990 kitchen director must establish an atmosphere which nurtures the possi-bility that all participants might be seeking spiritual growth along with advocacy, washing dirty dishes, and consuming numerous cups of sugar-filled coffee. Often the food sought and given is as much spiritual as physi-cal. The social ministry as a community needs to encourage the devel-opment of relationships as brothers and sisters rather than helpers and de-pendents. The Holy Spirit prods us all and no less so in the serving line of a soup kitchen. One of the most frequent comments from new soup kitchen volun-teers is one of surprise. They cannot wait to tell me, "I never knew it would be like this." The new volunteers sometime become so enthusi-astic they want to solve all the social ills and problems at one time. In their hurry to do something, they fail to let the totality of the soup kitchen experience filter into their inner depths. The impact of the similarity be-tween their own lives, hopes, and desires and those of the street people may elude them. Street people would seem to come to a soup kitchen because they need to eat, get out of the rain, or read the newspaper for a job. All of these reasons are usually true. But many also come from spiritual and psychological hunger. They need to be affirmed as human beings. They want friendship and to know that someone cares about them in the midst of their loneliness and alienation. And like everyone else, they have dif-ficulty in asking for what they want. Anger, manipulation, begging, pro-crastination, and even lethargy can mask a more basic plea for the love and compassion that cannot be found on the hostile streets. Casting volunteers and guests as mutual seekers of God's love helps to lessen the artificial line between dependent and provider. However, raising the awareness of both that each has gifts to offer the other may carry some risk. Life in'the streets dictates survival at all costs and is a set of learned behaviors. This might mean guests are immersed in the violence of poverty and substance abuse. Emotional problems, poor so-cialization skills, and mental illness are magnified by the stress of not knowing where the next meal or bed for the night will be found. Volunteers may come to a soup kitchen to play out an unhealthy need to dominate. They may see themselves as rescuer or savior. Volunteers can even burden already embtionally drained street people with their own consuming need for acceptance and love masked by acts of charity. These are reasons enough for soup kitchen managers and volunteers to have some training in lay qgunseling and spiritual direction. Meager funds for supplies and staffing and lack of housing, jobs, and Spiritual Direction in Social Action Ministries services may force participants into a negative emotional drain and the constant crisis of problem-solving. The stereotypes of despair and dis-ease of social distance can be lifted from guests and volunteers. Despite a naive or discouraging beginning, guests and volunteers can progress beyond the initial stage of being locked into a give-and-take, us-versus-them, relationship. The community's life depends on its ability to jug-gle logistical and physical demands with emotional, psychological ones. An awakening to the spiritual life of the soup kitchen for both volunteers and guests is enabled by the continual return to the wellspring of hope, the Holy Spirit. 2. A Hard Look: After the introductory experience, the volunteer usu-ally begins to ask, why? Why are so many people living on the street? Why are the mentally ill and sick not hospitalized? Why am I expected to take care of the lazy? And then, why am I going home to comfort when these people have so little? Why does not somebody do something? This may create conflicted feelings for those who see themselves as car-ing, religious people. The good intentions of even the most dedicated vol-unteer can fade into frustration and resentment. But in spite of these dif-ficulties, questioning becomes the seed of opportunity to widen one's ho-rizons and allow a graced transformation. If questions arise and expectations are challenged for volunteers, they are doubly so for guests. Even the most dejected and apathetic of the poor hold their dignity and self-worth as a jewel more valuable than food or shelter. A bowl of soup or a sandwich firmly thrust back to a surprised volunteer will attest to a guest's rejection of real or imagined insensitivity. While many long-term street residents have given up ques-tioning injustices or reasons for their meager living, just as many will talk for as long as anyone will listen to a recollection of past slights, in-dignities, or woes. We all need to tell our stories. And once in awhile, some thought-provoking wisdom and insights can be the reward of the patiently attentive volunteer. The volunteer's emotional struggle with the realities of soup kitchen and street people can be everything from threatening to enlightening. Con-fronted with painful feelings, the need for empathy with guests, respon-sibility, and sometimes guilt, some soup kitchen volunteers turn away. They seek other ways to express an option for the poor. Others find ex-cuses to reject the homeless. They blame the victim. Barriers may be erected; barriers of power disguised as benevolent decision-making and anger as righteous indignation. Still other volunteers begin to realize the humanity and humility they share with all peopl+ as children of God. The Review for Religious, November-December 1990 same compassion that emerges from questioning and consciousness-raising impels these volunteers to seek a deeper understanding and ex-perience of the wounded Christ-of-the-streets. 3. Judging--the Bottom Line: Volunteers who persevere join the regu-lars in the social ministry community. They adopt a favorite job or rou-tine of doing the various daily tasks. They come to accept the dilemma of soup kitchens and street life as having no comfortable answers nor neat solutions. Success becomes enough soup or sandwiches for a day's meal, finding eyeglasses for a guest who needs them for work, or locat-ing temporary housing for a young family with children. Old hands be-come well acquainted with the idiosyncrasies of particular guests. Friend-ships develop. New, bewildered guests are shepherded through the soup kitchen routine which has over time become the bricks-and-mortar of daily operation. Success in social change is also expected. Volunteers point with pride to street people who attain middle-class goals: jobs, apartments, sobriety, and normalcy. Experienced volunteers begin to draw parallels with some of Jesus' teachings and parables: the Good Shepherd, those who are last will be first, and workers paid equally for differing times of service. More enthusiastic volunteers may take on the task of main-taining the organization with fund-raising and building renovation proj-ects. The disparity between the homeless people who remain jobless, clothed in rags, and in need of food and shelter and coworkers and fam-ily who enjoy a more comfortable lifestyle is less a focus than getting the job done. Many of the poor who have lived on and off the streets are way ahead of new volunteers in a spirituality of detachment and interior search-ing. Destitute and lacking the basic necessities of food and shelter, they. are forced to fall back on inner resources. Some street survivors exhibit an inner depth of understanding and resilient wisdom of Jesus as Libera-tor. They reflect an unshakable faith and contemplative spirituality. I sometimes wish I could be as in touch with my dark side as they seem to be. However just as often, incredible stress, fear of violence, and physi-cal and mental deprivation block the development of these means to over-come depression and despair. The rhythm of daily life of the soup kitchen community rises and falls with the extreme heat of summer, winter cold, Friday paydays, and surplus holiday charity. Volunteers and guests come and go. When guests do not meet expectations of a middle-class work-ethic or a period of sobriety or mental stability ends, volunteers may become discouraged Spiritual Direction in Social Action Ministries and leave to find greener pastures and better shepherds. But the very rest-lessness that seems to hinder an inner, spiritual examination is also an invitation to challenge preconceived ideas of what is success in a social ministry. The soup kitchen and night shelter offer daily opportunities to let go of cultural or popular false standards of guests' worthiness. 4. Light from Darkness: Volunteers who get beyond the questioning stage and embrace the compunction that follows a realization of their so-cial and inner blindness witness to an enlightened conversion. Their pri-orities change. They begin to view themselves, their families and friends, churches and institutions, and most of all, the guests, with changed hearts and minds. Ragged clothes, disagreeable behaviors, and unwashed bodies fade from importance. Guests are no longer bums and derelicts but James, Mary, and Charlie. "I've been given so much more than I could ever give" is the comment most often heard. This social conversion is possible because participants have experi-enced nurturing community with other volunteers and guests. They have shared in the applied collective wisdom of spiritual guides and masters conveyed by effective social ministry managers and leaders. The soup kitchen manager/spiritual director must focus on community building that encourages everyone processing through the four steps of spiritual growth. After facing the disheartening reality of streetlife poverty and violence, volunteers and guests come to realize through the attentive di-rection of experienced ministry leaders that their only meaningful re-sponse must be one of being as well as doing. Social ministry teachers can model a definition of being that elimi-nates the artificial yardsticks that manipulate and shape people's lives in ways our Creator never intended. Being comes to mean accepting the brother or sister, volunteer or guest, who chooses self-defeat or an un-sympathetic and often critical, closed mind. And most of all, being means seeking the Psalmist's humble and contrite heart in the midst of rejection and the temptation to put distance between self and other. A simple illustration is the end piece from a loaf of bread. Uniniti-ated volunteers might toss the heel into the trash without a second thought. Seasoned veterans however, make use of every scrap by turn-ing the heel outward. They remember lean days of not enough bread for the many sandwiches needed. They have seen men, women, and even children go hungry. Not only are they grateful for our daily bread but they appreciate their own helplessness in the face of grinding poverty and suffering. These volunteers have come to see God face-to-face in the eyes of the poor. Every gift of Creation has become precious to them. Review for Religious, November-December 1990 This is only one of many daily lessons the soup kitchen community can teach and the conscientious director can encourage. Success in the soup kitchen is God's gift to define and to give. Bib-lical personhood and scriptural freedom empower a realization of our need to be vulnerable to each other. We bring all we are, past and pres-ent, to the soup kitchen serving line. Through our relationships, our hearts are stirred to question and search our inner selves and to reach out to our neighbors as to God.4 After finally co.ming to understand and em-l~ race Jesus' meaning of Go.spel poverty, the point of conversion for the social ministry activist becomes the same as the contemplative/directee: the unitive experience. Antonio and Bonnie taught me through their searching and struggle that social ministry can be as much a place of spiritual seeking and guid-ance as my experience of spiritual direction. I saw that people in soup kitchens and shelters were asking for what spiritual direction had to of-fer. God's love for us and desire to be with us through the gift of Son and Spirit is the eternal constant. Our task as both spiritual directors and spiritual guides in social ministries is to be willing to struggle for con-tinued openness and vulnerability to that gift brought to us by guests and volunteers. Soup Kitchen Managers and Spiritual Directors The previous illustrations invite practical ways to integrate action and contemplation, the personal and the social, in soup kitchens and spiri-tual direction. The work of both soup kitchen manager and spiritual di-rector is a good example of the interconnection of spirituality and spiri-tual direction with social ministry. Volunteers and street people usually do not ask for spiritual direction from soup kitchen managers. And di-rectees do not often associate social ministry with their prayer life un-less encouraged to do so by their spiritual directors. But hunger of the heart and searching for God's love and guidance pervade both environ- I am suggesting that soup kitchen managers and spiritual directors must examine the opposite side of their area of expertise to lead to a more balanced ministry and to be more open to God's promise for justice and mercy. However, social ministry managers need not become spiritual di-rectors nor directors, soup kitchen managers. The interactions between a soup kitchen manager, volunteers, and street persons are not the same as those in spiritual direction or intervention. The methods of social min-istry organization and management, schools of spirituality (Ignatian, Fran-ciscan, Carmelite, Augustinian), socio-political thought, and even life Spiritual Direction in Social Action Ministries goals for directees, volunteers, and street people may vary widely. But these two activities have more similar than dissimilar aspects. Identifying the importance of spiritual direction and social action as part of an integrated whole in both ministries is the concern of effective managers and directors. The issue is the recognition of the reciprocal con-nection between the two ministries. The question is not whether the soup kitchen responds first to physical or spiritual needs. Nor is it whether con-templative prayer or an awareness of social consciousness predominate in spiritual direction. There are several points where spiritual direction and social mifiistry coincide: A. Holy Spirit: Our ministries and our lives must flow from Holy Scripture and the indwelling Spirit of Christ. The guidance of the Holy Spirit must always be foremost in our own paths and our involvement in the journeys of others. Discernment of that guidance is discovered in community with others in both individual spiritual direction and in so-cial activities such as soup kitchens. We need to support and nourish each other in our experience of and search for God's gift of love. B. Purpose and Goals: Any spiritual director will admit that before a working relationship can be established with a directee, a determina-tion of what the directee desires from direction must be explored. The goals and purpose of direction must flow from the life, prayer, and ex-periences of the directee. A soup kitchen is no different. On the surface, the purpose may seem to be distribution of food, social work, a sympa-thetic ear, and hopefully, the strength to go on another day. But the mo-tivations of the volunteers, manager, and street people in the soup kitchen community must be considered as important and basic as pro-viding soup, sandwiches, and even friendship. Unconscious messages about worthiness, authority, manipulation, and social statements can creep into the daily life of any hands-on social ministry or spiritual direction relationship. We must be clear in what we are about as helping people and .as concerned, activist communities to-ward those who seek direction or bread. The consequences can be the perpetuation of the suffering and oppression of the poor, a hindrance of the spiritual unfolding and growth of direct.ees, and a floundering for guid-ance by volunteers and workers. The ministry can become part of an on-going or potential problem instead of an instrument of God's peace. Openness to seeing God in my neighbor is fostered by encouraging healthy interaction between guests and volunteers. Joint meetings of both provide insights for planning, alleviate misunderstandings, and build com-munity among participants. Goals clarification and the scriptural basis Review for Religious, November-December 1990 or theme of the soup kitchen needs to be discussed and reiterated through training sessions with volunteers and in meetings with volunteers and guests. Quarterly soup kitchen orientations can offer the opportunity to learn communication and listening skills, positive ways to vent anger and frustration, and sharing feelings of sadness and pain. Attention to detail can encourage the mandates of the Gospel good news, peace and justice for the people of God. Trained volunteers who mingle ';vith guests during mealtimes can facilitate a calm release of the pain, rejection, and dehumanization of street life. Colorful banners do-nated by supporting churches or made in guest/volunteer sessions help to illustrate and affirm the soup kitchen's scriptural themes, such as the Good Shepherd, Matthew 25, and the Bread of Life. Seasonal celebra-tions, monthly birthday recognition, and encouraging on-site social ser-vices help to foster a family-oriented environment. We must live what we believe especially when becoming open to an awareness of the real-ity of the peace and justice of Jesus. C. Street People and Directees: People who live on the streets in ab-ject poverty are God's children in crisis. The wounded, hungry bodies that line up each day for food are also wounded spirits who directly or indirectly seek the fellowship that feeds the heart. All participants in the social ministry community, volunteers, staff, and street people, need to be aware of and be sensitive to the friendship needs as well as physical needs of the other members. The requirement goes both ways amongst volunteers and guests. Soup kitchen managers can no more ignore the Gospel good news of empowerment for the poor than can a spiritual di-rector become heavy-handed with advice and admonitions for the di-rectee. This sensitivity is necessary if everyone is going to move beyond lim-iting their efforts to subsistence needs and toward the mandate of Jesus, friendship, peace, and justice. Tho.ugh the goal of personal and commu-nal empowerment of poor people may seem distant and unobtainable, it is our Bethlehem star. If we do not keep in our awareness and striving the justice promised by God and echoed by Mary in her song, the Mag-nificat, our ministry, faith, and words will become St. Paul's metaphor, the clanging cymbal. The guidance and leadership for discernment to-warc~ this justice most often falls to the manager and spiritual director. Likewise, with directees, the spiritual director has a responsibility to dispel the myth of our tradition that the experience of God and the love of Christ can be a personal, private affair.5 The totality of a graced, trans-formed life is not for the benefit of the directee. St. Teresa of Avila re- Spiritual Direction in Social Action Ministries / ~1"15 minded us that we are meant to be the eyes, hands, and feet of Jesus in the world today. The Center for Spirituality and Justice has demonstrated a social-consciousness aspect to spiritual direction that must be part of the journey of director and directee if there is to be true discernment of .God's will~6 D. Volunteers: Church social ministries can be an extension of Je-sus' example to share ourselves and the fruits of the earth, food, shelter, and resources, with those in need. A deeper responsibility and outgrowth of the working of God's grace in everyone's life is stretching out a physi-cal and spiritual hand in friendship and unity. But for many middle-class volunteers who have never experienced the poverty, degradation, and suffering of those who live on the streets, a first-time exposure can be unnerving and challenging to their comfortable lives. Street people are not the only soup kitchen participants who experi-ence emotional crisis. Seeing firsthand the suffering and dehumanization of street life, many volunteers are distraught when they connect their rela-tively comfortable lives with the misery of homeless people. When food, clothing, an offer to listen, or a smile is refused with unkind words, vol-unteers may feel confused, rejected or angry. A misunderstanding be-tween guest and volunteer can result in "yes" instead of "no" as the answer to an inappropriate query. Just as street people bring their emotional baggage in the front door, volunteers can unload psychological traumas, too. Unresolved sexual needs, psychotic disorders, substance abuse, and authoritarian domi-nance can cause serious problems in the soup kitchen, community. Even though volunteers' emotional issues can't be compared to the sufferings of street people, a soup kitchen manager having some training in lay coun-seling and spiritual direction is helpful for the emotional and spiritual di-lemmas faced by volunteers and guests. For the social ministry manager just as for the spiritual director, their own spiritual direction and a peer group providing support, wisdom, and guidance needs to be part of the organization of the ministry. E. Leadership: Managers and Directors: The relationship between a soup kitchen manager and volunteer or street person is not identical to that of a spiritual director and a directee'. However, the responsibilities of the manager and director in regard to the spiritual foundations of their work with others and their own spiritual journey are so similar that com-parisons can be made. If a soup kitchen 6r.any social ministry is not to become a sterile institution, the guidelines or working plan of operation must be thoughtfully and prayerfully discussed and discerned over time. Review for Religious, November-December 1990 "What is God's will for me" in spiritual direction is parallel to and comparable with "What is God's will for us, volunteers and street peo-ple," in a soup kitchen. The spiritual director and the direction relation-ship provide the backdrop against which the directee wrestles with his or her issues in listening to a loving God. Likewise, the basic rules and logistics of feeding hundreds of people daily must be wrestled with so that dignity and the love we show each other are not compromised using the excuse ofjoblessness, smelly clothes, or efficacy in operation. While including the poor and powerless in decision-making roles can be threat-ening, it is the fulfillment of Jesus' Good News. The soup kitchen manager and the spiritual director are responsible not for the success of the kitchen, the progress of the directee, or even determining what connotes that success or progress. One who seeks to lead must be a follower; a manager or director must create an environ- " ment whereby volunteers, street people, and directees seek their own spiri-tual journey with support and guidance for discernment of God's will for them. The outward emphasis may differ from soup kitchen to spiritual direction but for the director and the manager, the spiritual task is the same. Conclusion There is value in drawing parallels in principle and practicality be-tween contemplative spirituality, spiritual direction and social conscious-ness, and the theological and spiritual organization of social ministries. Flexibility and imagination are necessary to compare the leadership and organizational abilities of a soup kitchen manager with the skills and train-ing of a spiritual director. We can show that the experiences of the vol-unteers and street people can follow a pattern of spiritual development. And directees and their spiritual directors can explore the social as well as personal experience of the Holy Spirit in their lives. In the face of violence, learned dependency, ignorance, and biased prejudices, hearts and minds as yet unawakened are waiting for the power of God's transforming grace: Spiritual direction and social min-istry are not two journeys originating from disparate starting points. Each of these spiritual paths flows from the other and back to nourish those who find themselves to be both contemplative and activist. Spiritual Direction in Social Action Ministries NOTES i D. Bernsweiger, D. McCarty, and L. Rhodes, Eds. Spirituality, Ministry, and Field Education: Theological Field Education, Key Resources, Vol. V. (San Francisco: Assn. for Theological Field Education, 1986), p. 52. Research by the Center for Spiri-tuality and Justice, Bronx, New York, on spiritual direction and social conscious-ness. "Social consciousness" as based on Peter Henriot's, (S.J.) thesis that the re-ality of the human person must take into account the individual, interpersonal, and public dimensions of human existence (p. 5 I). A person is simultaneously engaged in intense intrapersonal activity and consciousness, ongoing interpersonal relation-ships, and living out her or his life within a set of established and defined structures and institutions in the societal area (p. 52). 2 St. Teresa of Avila, The Collected Works of St. Teresa ofAvila: Vol. One, trans. Kieran Kavanaugh, O.C.D. and Otilio Rodriguez, O.C.D. (Washington, D.C. : ICS Pubs., 1976), p. 125. 3 Bernard Lonergan, Method in Theology. (New York: Seabury Press, 1972), pp. 8- 20. The four stages of enlightenment for soup kitchen participants is based on Lon-ergan's transcendental method. '~ Karl Rahner, "Reflections on the Unity of the Love of Neighbor and the Love of God." Theological Reflections, Vol. VI. (New York: Seabury Press, 1971), p. 232, p. 239. 5 lbid, pp. 242-244, 246. 6 Bernsweiger, McCarty, and Rhodes, pp. 53-54. Morning Office Here in my house of silence I stand beside you, Zachary. The song you cannot sing Trembles on your lips;. My song Pours in wordless rivers From quiet eyes. We stand together Lonely, waiting to sing Our canticle. Suzanne Zuercher, O.S.B. St. Scholastica Priory 7430 North Ridge Chicago, Illinois 60645 Living Our Liberation Through Justice and Spirituality Linda Rich, C.D.P. Sister Linda Rich, C. D. P., is a graduate of the Institute of Pastoral Studies at" Loyola University of Chicago. She currently works as part of the administrative team of NET-WORK, a national Catholic social justice lobby in Washington, D.C. Her address is 806 Rhode Island Avenue, NE; Washington, D.C. 20018. In the past one hundred years, and more vocally in recent years, part of the Christian community is specifically addressing social problems through systemic and structural analysis and applying Christian value prin-ciples to these problems (for example poverty, war). In the North Ameri-can and European culture, theologians, bishops, and the Vatican are do-ing this analysis and reflection by developing social ethics and a large written corpus of Catholic social teaching. In other cultures, Christians are interested in finding ways to make the Gospel real through experiencing liberation from injustice. This in-dicates that the developing social ethics need a lived reality, an experi-enced spirituality if we, as a whole community of the People of Go~l, are to respond to this recovered Gospel of social justice. That void is now being filled in and fleshed out. The writers and think-ers in the fields of spirituality and social justice are beginning to coa-lesce, to meet on mutual ground. Liberation theologians are now writ-ing about the spirituality of liberation: for example, Spirituality of Libera-tion: Toward Political Holiness, Jon Sobrino, Orbis Books, 1988, and The Way of Living Faith: A Spirituality of Liberation, Segundo Galilea, Harper & Row, 1988. North American spirituality writers are now speak-ing of how spirituality is intimately linked with social transformation: for example, Social Re~,elation: Profound Challenge for Christian Spiritu- 818 Living Our Liberation Through Justice and Spirituality ality, James E. Hug, S.J. and Rose Marie Scherschel, Center of Con-cern, 1987, and Spirituality and Liberation, Robert McAfee Brown, West-minster Press, 1988. Grass-roots movements within the Christian community are also bring-ing spirituality and justice together. The Catholic Worker movement con-cretely lives out social spirituality as envisaged by Dorothy Day and Pe-ter Maurin more than fifty years ago. They feed the hungry and welcome the homeless, while at the same time challenge the social structures that create this reality. As such, they speak against the national budget pri-orities for weapons instead of a priority for food and housing, for exam-ple. They are joined with others in the peace movement, the feminist/ women's movement, and the racial and economic equality movements, which all have collectives of people who are motivated and sustained in this activity by the Christian call to discipleship and by other spiritual values and beliefs. While these manifestations of justice spirituality are all happening within the Christian community, the message of the social justice dimen-sions of spirituality have not yet been carried into the mainstream, how-ever. A new theology and practice of spirituality needs to be unfolded, articulated, and fostered in the Christian community-at-large. A new un-derstanding of how spirituality is, and needs to be, vitally connected with justice will then begin to emerge for the average Catholic in the pew. Donal Dorr comments: "Perhaps the most effective way in which the Church can influence human behavior is by promoting a particular kind of spirituality." ~ Personal and Social Transformation Spirituality and social justice are closely related, both being trans-formative processes. Spirituality, as I am using it here, is our process of personal transformation. Through spiritual practices (meditation, prayer, liturgical ritual) and through the living out of the fruits of these in our lives, we become better persons, more loving, more congruent with the values we profess. We grow and mature as persons and become psychologically and spiritually integrated. Justice is the process of bringing social groups into right relation-ships with each other. It is the transformation of legal or violent enforce-ment of the domination of one group of people over another (men over women, rich over poor, one race over another). Justice transforms domi-nant/ submissive relationships into partnerships.2 Oppressive violence is transformed into peace and freedom when justice is present. Both justice and spirituality are journeys into freedom, moving from 820/Review for Religious, November-December 1990 being bound to a more free state. There is movement from being en-slaved by forces outside our control to having choices about our lives. This movement happens (and power is shifted) by our being able and will-ing to take up the struggle for freedom and undergo the suffering re-quired. "There is no transformation of person or society without suf-fering, and the suffering which brings about such change is truly re-demptive.' ,3 And so, it is very important to discern and determine which particular path leads to greater life through death and which path leads to dead ends, defeat, and a conquered death. Each choice, whether stay-ing with things as they are or choosing for change, has its own risks and consequences. These must be carefully considered. And as in any authen-tic journey, there are risks and perils along the way. Courage, persever-ance, and support from others are required for both the personal and so-cial transformative journeys. We can see some parallels between justice and spirituality. There is also an integrity present that is often missed. Both are needed in con-junction with each other to have true justice and true spirituality. This is so because either of these in isolation from the other is destructive. Historical examples include the way the Church sometimes has pro-moted an escapist spirituality which accepted injustice for other operat-ing benefits by the political powers that be. On the other hand, in socie-ties that have repressed spirituality and religion, great violence has been done in the name of social equality. This also plays itself out within the Christian community where division is created, with splits of "devout" and "activist" factions who distrust each other. Experience shows that spirituality and social justice are a graced dynamic, and split off from each other render both ineffective, irrelevant, and destructive. When these two are integrated, however, the world and the Chris-tian community are graced with life-giving energies. There are many ex-amples in our North American experience. Pax Christi, a Catholic peace organization, uses a threefold approach of prayer, study, and action, com-bining the elements of spirituality and activism. They are in the forefront of efforts to promote a vow of nonviolence, a wonderful way of rooting a committed life of peace within a rich spiritual tradition. The commu-nity of Sojourners (Washington, DC), as part of the Christian evangeli-cal tradition, ministers through their monthly publication, neighborhood organizations, justice resources, and organizing national days of prayer and nonviolent resistance. NETWORK is a national Catholic social jus-tice lobby that attempts to influence the formation of public policy in the interest of the poor and powerless. It lobbies members of Congress to Living Our Liberation Through Justice and Spirituality enact laws providing access to economic resources, fairness in national funding, and justice in global relationships, Another facet of the relationship of personal and social transforma-tion is that these two are not necessarily simultaneous or synonymous; one does not automatically follow the other. A liberation scholar states it this way: Social change by itself does not create a new person, in the same way that transforming persons do not automatically induce a new social or-der. The creation of a new person and a new social order takes place within a dialectical interaction.4 So we can see that a conscious link needs to be made between our spiri-tual growth as transforming persons and our justice work of transform-ing society, or that link will not be made. Some people who invest time and money in the human potential move-ment for personal psychological and spiritual growth make the social con-nections beyond themselves, and some do not. Those who fail to con-nect their personal growth to a wider social vision will probably become shortsighted, turned in on themselves (stunted), and "whistling in the dark while the world goes to hell in a hand basket." Likewise, some so-cial activists who spend tremendous amounts of personal time and en-ergy organizing campaigns for justice do so from the fruits of their spiri-tual growth, and some do not. Those who fail to connect to a spiritual source will probably fall victim to burnout, cynicism, and self-righteous-ness. It is essential, I think, to recognize the inherent integrity of spiritu-ality and social justice within a "both/and" holistic framework. Too often they have been split apart, to the detriment of both. This dichot-omy needs to be healed and is being healed in the coming age. Conversion and Social Liberations In my experience, the education and consciousness-raising of justice work begins to effect a real transformation process in individuals, and in groups of people. This journey of transformation and liberation is one of conversion, a qualitative change, a living of life in new ways. Con-version (whether religious, intellectual, individual, or social), involves a three-part process of !) dying to the old, 2) an in-between period, and 3) a new orientation. Initially we feel confusion and conflict, we experience a resultant in-ability to continue living as we have been, and we know the need to find ~199 / Review for Religious, November-December 1990 new ways of living. Once this process is entered into, things will never be quite the same again. (You cannot put the toothpaste back in the tube.) We find that we may creep slowly or may suddenly leap into a different frame of reference. We are brought into a whole new level of relating-- with a social consciousness~to God, to ourselves, and to others. Albert Nolan describes our growth into social consciousness in four stages.6 (He addresses this to the specific problem of poverty, though the principles can be applied in regard to other oppressed groups of people as well, it seems to me.) The first stage is characterized by our compas-sion, brought about by exposure through experience or information re-garding the sufferings of the poor. This compassion is generally ex-pressed in two kinds of action: relief work (distributing food and alms-giving), and simplification of lifestyle (voluntary poverty). The second stage is entered when we acknowledge the structural prob-lems as social in.justice. Things are the way they are because social struc-tures are set up to serve the interests of some people over others. Anger and guilt may arise when we become aware that poverty is largely a re-sult of oppression. Now our charity of the first stage is joined by justice in the second; both are necessary. In the third stage, we join humility with service to the poor. We need the poor for our liberation, also, and often we are unaware of the gifts they are and have for us. It is this humility (owning our own poverty) that tempers our "doing for the poor" into befriending them. At the same time, one hazard here is to put the poor/working class on a pedes-tal, to idealize them into something they are not. This can lead to disil-lusionment, disappointment, and burnout when we discover the illusion of our own making. The fourth and last stage is one of.real solidarity. This is the experi-ence of recognizing the faults and weaknesses of the poor as well as of ourselves, and at the same time, knowing that we can be on the same side against oppression. Now we experience the struggle of liberation to-gether. The second major aspect is that social consciousness is an essential part of conversion, not the results of it. Socioeconomic life is not a corollary to our relationship with God. It is not simply the arena in which conversion and love of God flow out into love of neighbor--if God so leads us. Social concern and work for jus-tice are not just the outgrowths of Christian conversion. Prayerful involve-ment in socioeconomic life and reflection on it are prerequisites to know-ing and relating intimately with God, not the results of it.7 Living Our Liberation Through Justice and Spirituality/ This concept is rife with implications for the i~ntegration of social con-sciousness into our spiritual life. If we discern God's revelation to us ex-clusively in our interior movements (within ourselves), then "we receive only a partial, distorted image of God. We are ignoring part of the reve-lation of God. We run the danger of fostering, . . a selfless, dedicated and energetic service of the status quo with aH its unjust institutions."8 Our spirituality, without the social revelation component, will most likely, though unwittingly, serve the continuance of injustice. A third connection between conversion and the transformative pro-cess of justice is the image of liberation for the spiritual process. Rather than relying exclusively on the traditional image of union and intimacy with God for spiritual growth,9 we may well include "conversion as lib-eration" as a complementary image. For truly all conversion is a liber-ating experience from our false selves and an enlivening and freeing ex-perience of our true selves. As the image of spiritual union speaks to the part in each of us that seeks attachment, belonging, and inclusion, the image of liberation speaks to the part in each of us that seeks freedom and autonomy. For people who are victims of others and/or society, for people who feel enslaved interiorly by addictions or by life circumstances, this lib-eration process imaged and named as such can be a tremendous motiva-tion and empowerment for change in personal and spiritual development and for social activism. Paul proclaims: "The world itself will be freed from its slavery to corruption and share in the glorious freedom of the children of God" (Rm 8:21). Implications A great challenge lies before us. World crises every day remind us of how fragile and precarious our planet and our common situation is as human beings. We can deny and numb ourselves to this reality. We can let it in and live in despair and be crushed by it. Or we can forge new ways of living, "ministering to the breakthrough" (as named by Pat and Gerald Mische of Global Education Associates) of a surviving and just world. Members of religious congregations can be in the forefront of this breakthrough, on the prophetic cutting edge a's it were. We have a pub-lic role in the Christian community and many congregations are interna-tional. More than one congregation now has Non-Governmental Organ-izational (NGO) status at the United Nations. These and other innovative ways to minister to the breakthrough can be communally explored and implemented. Though each congregation faces the lack of personnel and 8241 Review for Religious, November-December 1990 finances in a different way, we can continue to be supportive of those people and organizations that integrate faith and justice. The integration of spirituality and justice is a key component of min-istering to the breakthrough. It requires a change in thinking as well as in acting, in theory as well as in praxis. Only the combined strength of the theory and practice of spirituality and justice will carry us through into the future. NOTES ~ Donal Dorr, Option for the Poor: A Hundred Years of Vatican Social Teaching (Ma-ryknoll, N.Y.: Orbis Books, 1983), p. 59. 2 Riane Eisler, The Chalice and the Blade: Our History, Our Future (San Francisco, CA: Harper & Row, 1987), pp. 198-203. This shift is elaborated on in depth here. 3 Carolyn Osiek, R.S.C.J., Beyond Anger: On Being a Feminist in the Church (Mah-weh, N.J.: Paulist Press, 1986), p. 83. '~ lsmael Garcia, Justice in Latin American Theology of Liberation (Atlanta, Geor-gia: John Knox Press, 1987), p. 80. 5 See Osiek, Beyond Anger, p. 44-63, for an insightful development of conversion and transformation in a liberation context. 6 Albert Nolan, O.P., "Spiritual Growth and the Option for the Poor," Church (Bal-timore, MD: National Pastoral Life Center, 1985), Spring issue. 7 James E. Hug, S.J., and Rose Marie Scherschel, Social Revelation: Profound Chal-lenge for Christian Spirituality, (Washington, D.C. : Center of Concern, 1987), pp. 22-23. 8 Ibid, p. 23. 9 In Francis Kelly Nemeck, O.M.I. and Maria Theresa Coombs, The Spiritual Jour-ney: Critical Thresholds and Stages of Adult Spiritual Genesis (Wilmington, Dela-ware: Michael Glazier, 1987), union and intimacy image is used throughout. Spirituality of Liberation Peter G. van Breemen, S.J. Father Peter G. van Breemen, S.J., author of well-known books such as As Bread That Is Broken and Called By Name, has most recently been serving as Jesuit tertian director in Berlin. His address is Peter-Faber-Kolleg; Postfach 220018; Am Schwemmborn 3a; D-1000 Berlin (Kladow); West Germany. Much is being said and written nowadays about Theology of Liberation. The deliberate alteration to Spirituality of Liberation suggests a shift to-wards a less controversial and a more meditative approach. Spirituality The word spirituality stems from spirit. In the Old Testament it re-fers to the ruach as the divine source of human life, and in the New Tes-tament to the active presence of the Holy Spirit in our everyday personal and communal life, where it renders our faith concrete in our actions and behavior. The word spirituality also intimates that life has come to a cer-tain harmony and synthesis: what could remain a fairly objective and sometimes even abstract doctrine has become a source of life and inspi-ration; it has become integrated and operative. Spirituality is lived in the community and becomes fruitful within it, since the Spirit 'is given pri-marily to the community, and to the individual only in the community. So much about the first word of our title. Liberation The word liberation has generally more political overtones than the related word redemption. When Gustavo Gutti6rrez coined the expres-sion "Theology of Liberation" and used it as the title of his book (Lima, 1972), and when a number of his Latin American colleagues took over this expression, they wanted to make redemption more down-to-earth 826/Review for Religious, November-December 1990 and more relevant for the struggle for life. There should be no real doubt that the theologians of liberation want to articulate the Christian faith-- drawn from Scripture, received from Jesus Christ, and handed on through the Catholic Church---even though the Instruction of the Sacred Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith "On Certain Aspects of the 'Theology of Liberation,' " published in 1984, had a number of criti-cal remarks and even though one of its leading theologians (Leonardo Boff) was silenced for a year. In fact, that very Instruction plus another one of March 22, 1986 basically approve and praise the Theology of Lib-eration. It is not surprising that the rapid development of the Theology of Lib-eration in the last two decades has led to a variety of meanings of the word liberation. What unites, however, all the different schools of lib-eration theology is that--in various ways--they are all inspired by and support a movement, a dynamic, in which the poor and the underprivi-leged draw strength from their faith to fight for their dignity and against unfair exploitation. The heart of the Theology of Liberation is to be found in this movement; it is lived before it is articulated. Undoubtedly this theology (and this movement) began in Latin America, but it is equally certain that they are to be found in other parts of the world as well, like the Philippines, South Africa (Kairos document), India (State-ment of the Indian Theological Association), and other countries. What these countries have in common is obviously their great need for libera-tion, but also that Christianity is fairly recent there. Quite often, with a touch of humor, the Church in these countries is compared with a young woman, hardly twenty years old, in which comparison the Church in Europe is portrayed as an elderly lady. Along with their youth, these Churches also stress their vigor and their hope. It is a little touchy, though not unfair and not disrespectful, when they describe the climate in the European churches as winter and in theirs as spring. Let me just conclude from these remarks that a spirituality of liberation and the di-vine virtue of hc~pe go together. Pope Pius XI (1922-1939) was the first Pope tostress the place of indigenous churches. In 1926 he consecrated in St. Peter's in Rome six Chinese bishops, the first non-white bishops since the early Church. That is less than seventy-five years ago! Whereas all the Fathers of the First Vatican Council (1869-1870) were natives of Europe or North America, the Second Vatican Council gave a completely different picture. Thus it is not surprising that Vatican II speaks highly of the variety of local churches with "their own discipline, their own liturgical usage, and their Spirituality of Liberation own theological and spiritual heritage" (Lumen Gentium 23). "The Chair of Peter, it is said, protects legitimate differences, while at the same time it sees that such differences do not hinder unity, but rather con-tribute to it" (LG 13). Though not without friction and pain, this shift of the center of gravity from the Western world towards other continents goes on speedily. The prognostic indicates that in the year 2000 thirty percent of the world's Catholics will live in Europe and North America, and seventy percent in the southern hemisphere (that is, Latin America, Africa, Asia, and Oceania). We live on the eve of a new equilibrium of the Church. One sign of this is that non-western schools of theological reflection arise. They form a challenge and offer a chance. They can en-rich the people of God immensely. Covenant In a spirituality of liberation, the covenant plays a vital role-- indeed, the covenant is the very origin of our liberation. This may sound rather paradoxical, since covenant denotes a bond that binds us, which looks like the exact opposite of liberation that sets us free. Yet, Sacred Scripture is basically the long story of human liberation, precisely be-cause it is the history of the Covenant of God with his people--first with the Jewish people in the Old Testament and later in the New Testament with all God's people. From the bond of this covenant true freedom springs. This brings home to us the important truth that freedom in the Bible is not unbound, arbitrary, individualistic or irresponsible. Freedom does not mean that one can do what one likes; on the contrary, truly free per-sons are not governed by likes and dislikes, but act according to their inner convictions and conscience--in short, their true self. Freedom im-plies honesty and courage, transparency and authenticity, maturity and responsibility. Sometimes God is called the deepest Ground of our being. Even though the expression may be rather recent, the idea is not new at all. The classic phrase of St. Augustine "God is closer to me than I am to myself" says basically the same thing. If God is the deepest Ground of our being, then it is only in union with him that we can be our true selves and act freely. God is not constraining, but it is only in and through him that we come to life and freedom. Modern psychology confirms this view. It is only in a basic trust in another person (normally the mother) that the child reaches self-confidence. It is only in the security which the mother gives to the child that the latter finds the courage and even the ability to reach out. The 828/Review for Religious, November-December 1990 greater the confidence in its parents, the more open the child will be. What we can observe very clearly in children reveals a characteristic which remains through the whole of life. A person who is secure in the love of someone else can afford to go out into the ever widening space of life and to respond to the world's ever growing challenges. True freedom is the fruit of true love which one has experienced and/ or is still experiencing. I shall not dwell on the sad and often tragic as-pects of the counterpart of these psychological data, but rather state that for me these psychological insights point to God as the ultimate fulfill-ment of our basic need. Of course, I am aware that I make a jump from the level of psychological experiences to the level of faith. I am not try-ing to prove anything, only to suggest and to hint. It is in the covenant that God gives his chosen people the security we are talking about. "I shall be your God and you shall be my peo-ple" is God's summary of the covenant. God binds himself to his peo-ple; he is their support and guarantee. In doing so, he invites the people to bind themselves to him in faithful obedience. When the people accept this invitation, the bond of the covenant is the basis of their freedom. At an early stage of the Jewish history this mighty care of God as the origin of their freedom is exemplified in the exodus from the slavery in Egypt. In fact, one can say that the Exodus is the beginning of the Jews as a nation; up until that moment they were no more than a gang of slaves, who were exploited in unbearably hard forced labor (Ex 2:23). It is in the miraculous event of their liberation from Egypt and their pas-sage through the Sea of Reeds that they become a people. God reveals himself as their God, their liberator, the origin of their national identity. From generation to generation they keep celebrating the marvel of their liberation as the outstanding evidence of the covenant. It is in the context of this liberation from slavery that God reveals his name: Yahweh. Volumes have been written about the meaning of these four Hebrew letters, yet the scholarly research of centuries remains inconclusive. Is it a sign of God's transcendence or of his sense of hu-mor (or of both) that his name remains mysterious in its being revealed? So much seems certain that the name Yahweh is existentially a boundlessly affirming word and intellectually just as boundlessly com-prehensive (that is, not to be grasped). He is there, absolutely reliable and absolutely incomprehensible. In their exodus the Jewish people have experienced their God, whom they gradually discover to be the God of all nations and of all creation. In their exodus they have learned that God hears the cry of the poor and takes their side. We meet here the begin- Spirituality of Liberation ning of a strand that runs through the whole of Scripture, stressing God's care for the poor and the needy, the orphan and the widow. Eventually this will lead to some sort of identification of God with the weak and the little, for example, Psalm 91:15 and Matthew 25:40, 45. In their exodus it was also brought home to them that Yahweh works through people: God. has no hands but ours; compare Exodus 3:8 with 3: 10. In their history with Yahweh they discover that he is "always greater." That is indeed a very pertinent characteristic of God. No mat-ter how great we think of him, he is always greater. No matter how much we have experienced of him, he remains always greater. That keeps us always on the move in our relation with God. The chief expression for human life in Hebrew means: to wander, to travel, to hike. The early Christians called themselves "the people of the way." Thus the exodus is a basic distinction of true religion, not an exodus once and for all, but ever so often repeated. And so freedom is not only the fruit of our exo-dus, but also its prerequisite, Liberty is both gift and demand. That is to say how much our faith is a religion of liberation. In apostolic reli-gious life unconditional pliability with respect to the will of God which can never be predicted and never be fixed takes shape in a continually adaptable apostolic availability. Paschal Mystery So far the name of Jesus has not been mentioned. It is in him that God became incarnate; it is in him that liberation receives hands and feet, a body and a voice and a face. His name, in Hebrew Yehoshua, means "Yahweh saves." Jesus embodies the saving God. He embodies this sav-ing God in a concrete, historically, sociologically, and politically well-defined situation. The incarnation of the eternal Son of God implies the taking-up of a human life with all the specific conditions of a particular society in a particular time. Perhaps the most striking feature of Jesus' dealing with the people of his time and country is how free he is as a person and how free he renders others (Lk 4:!8). This freedom is not simulated, but has deep roots. He is free, because at the same time he is one with the Father. What we found as the true source of freedom of the Jewish people, namely the covenant with Yahweh, we find infinitely more in Jesus of Nazareth. He was bound with Yahweh in his very person: "one in be-ing with the Father" (see Jn 10:30). Accordingly, he always did what pleased the Father and called the will of the Father the food on which he lived (Jn 4:34). That made him a free man and enabled him to free others. Review for Religious, November-December 1990 The miracles he works are presented by the Evangelists, especially by John, as "signs," which point out who Jesus is and what God stands for. Though accepted gratefully and often enthusiastically by many con-temporaries, the signs are rejected by the political and religious leaders. They decide to kill Jesus. The prospect of his suffering and death meets with a profound inner resistance, which in Gethsemane brought a terri-ble distress over him; yet he is free enough to say yes to his passion and crucifixion (Jn 10: 17). Jesus dies on the cross as a consequence of his mission. But God stood by his Son, in and beyond his death. God raised him to new life, a life over which death has no more power. We call this the paschal mystery, in analogy to the passover-event of the Old Testa-ment. The liberating event of the Old Testament was the exodus from Egypt; in the New Testament it is the death and the resurrection of Je-sus. The paschal liturgy from its earliest origins considered the crossing of the Sea of Reeds as a prefiguration of Jesus' passing through death to the risen life, so much so that among the many Old Testament read-ings of our Easter Vigil Exodus 15 is the only one which is obligatory. Here we touch the heart of the saving and liberating mission of Je-sus. In the various forms of our creeds we confess about Jesus: his in-carnation, and then omitting every other event of his life, his passion, death, and resurrection. No miracle, no sermon, no teaching, no contact with any person, no feature of his personality, not one event of his hid-den or public life is mentioned. In every creed one jumps from the birth of Jesus straight to the paschal mystery, which constitutes the core of our faith in Jesus. The paschal mystery is like a tunnel, that obviously has two ends which are connected and thus make the one tunnel. So death and resur-rection are two sides of one mystery. It is of the essence of the gift of faith that one can see the one side of the mystery in unity with the other: the passion in the light of the resurrection--the risen Lord with the wounds of his crucifixion. It is precisely the unity of these two events, crucifixion and resurrection, that makes us free. Jesus is savior and lib-erator because he is at the same time the suffering servant of Yahweh and the glorified Lord. The tunnel leads into the realm of freedom, like the passage through the Sea of Reeds led the Jewish people into the prom-ised land. The Gospels are written from this certainty. They narrate the events of Jesus' life, but in the light of the resurrection. It is this per-spective that we call inspiration (see Jn 8:28; 12:32). It reveals to us not only the redemptive and liberating thrust of Jesus' life, but it also takes us up into that same dynamic. It is the mystery of the grain of wheat Spir!tuality of Liberation / which yields fruit only by dying in the ground (Jn 12:24). It is the call of Jesus, not to hold on to one's life, but to lose it for the sake of the kingdom (Mk 8:35). Fulfillment These words are not meant to glorify human misery nor are they to be used as a cheap consolation to those who suffer. Rather we ourselves in the first place are to take them to heart, if we want to follow Jesus and to be apostolically fruitful. Every human person strives for fulfill-ment. This is perfectly in line with God's purpose, for example, John 15:8. But there is a way of striving after self-fulfillment and self-unfolding which is not in line with God's intention. As soon as one for-gets or denies that true Christian fulfillment goes through renouncing one-self and taking up one's cross (Mk 8:34) and dying like a grain of wheat, one is moving on the wrong track. Then my own physical well-being, my settling into a comfortable lifestyle, my need to be appreciated by those with whom I live and deal, bonds of friendship, my desire to make the most of my talents, success in my work, and so forth begin to play too great a role and stifle my religious and apostolic life. Since this topic is not only very vital indeed, but also very delicate, let me stress that the values mentioned are positive and good. However, as Christians we believe that we truly obtain these values when we do not hold on to them, but are willing to lose them for the sake of Jesus and the kingdom. This brings about the attitude of freedom, in the evangelical sense of the word. An essential aspect of Jesus' freedom was his readiness to accept suf-fering and to lay down his life (Jn 10:17), even though he agonized when the actual passion began. Similarly, a disciple of Jesus cannot follow his or her master without this freedom to give up precious personal human values (Lk 14:33). The Bible gives us many examples of negative experiences which eventually turn out to be quite positive. It is the lesson which Jesus in a remedial class brought home to the disciples of Emmaus (Lk 24:26). It is the lesson which Moses was taught in Exodus 33:18-23. It is the les-son that the evil is far worse than we admit, but that the good is also much greater than we dare to hope and even can bear. It is the lesson which all of us have learned in life: what at the actual moment was felt like a great loss, often revealed itself in hindsight as a real grace. The biblical message, confirmed by our own life experience, may help us to become more free in regard to our own life and more free in our apos-tolic service. 839 / Review for Religious, November-December 1990 It is, of course, a platitude to say that only those who are themselves liberated can help to liberate others. But this platitude is also a little sim-plistic. It seems more nuanced to say that as the Father wants us to be creative with him, likewise the Son wants us to be redemptive with him and wants to continue his work of liberation in and through us (Gaudium et spes 34 and 67). In this way we point out more clearly that our own liberation is a lifelong process and that it is only God who can work true freedom in ourselves and in others. We have to complete th'is statement by saying that God can work this true freedom only through us. So it is our mission to help the people experience the liberating God. In his encyclical Evangelii Nuntiandi (1975), Pope Paul VI stressed that evangel-ization proclaims and tries to realize liberation. This evangelization and this liberation aim at the whole person, .as the same Pope wrote already in an earlier encyclical Populorum Progressio (1967). Respect I suppose this renders respect a key concept in our service of libera-tion: a great respect and regard for the dignity of each human being, that is to say, of ourselves and of others. Respect is the heart of love, and in many ways the word respect is more meaningful than the word love (which, alas, is sometimes used so vaguely and glibly). Respect means to acknowledge the worth of others as other, that is, to relate to them not as we want them to be, not as we think they should be, not as they fit into our plans, but as they are. It also means to discover in these real people their defects, and to accept them. There is a wise and dense say-ing of C.G. Jung: "One can only change what one, has accepted." What we reject or condemn or repress goes beyond our reach; we cannot do anything with it nor for it anymore. I am convinced that the lack of respect does a tremendous harm in our communities, in our apostolate, in our Church, and in our world. If we could come to a basic attitude of respect for each human being, the world would become a so much better place to live in and the Gospel-message would become so much more real and convincing. This respect should not be an aloof, detached, disembodied attitude. If it is, it contradicts itself. Clodovis Boff expresses the opinion that Euro-pean culture tends to screen itself from the "two-edged sword of the Word" (Heb 4:12) with a highly developed, but spiritualistic, exegeti-cal, and sociological sophistication. "Europeans only?" one might ask. As our respect for each other has to be integral, so has the liberation we work for. We cannot restrict it either to the spiritual or the political realm. Spirituality of Liberation / 833 The Poor The word integral can also be understood as including all men and women, though the word universal might be more appropriate in this case. With that meaning in mind, integral or universal liberation requires a special concern for the poor and the weak. This is certainly in line with a trend that runs through the whole of Scripture. God shows a preferen-tial love for the poor, which leads to a certain identification with the poor-est, as mentioned above. The cry of the poor is heard by God, yes, even the curse of the poor (Si 4:5; Ex 22:22). As for the New Testament, the cry of Jesus on the cross is sometimes said to continue in the cry of the poor. That cry comes from the seventy percent who are underprivileged and undernourished--the majority of whom can hardly survive, let alone live in dignity. The Bible demands our solidarity with them. They are the present-day locus where we meet Christ. It is in them that Jesus is to be found. We may need a conversion of heart and a radical change of our lifestyle in order to live up to this demand of the time. There is a use of the word freedom which is meant to deny just that. Nuclear weapons are claimed to protect freedom, which, in fact, means only "our" freedom, and that, in turn, stands really for our power and affluence. These self-interests, however, are maintained at the expense of other people's lives, and their "protection," therefore, runs counter to the actual demands of the Gospel. Integral or universal liberation requires that the poor are not the only ones liberated, and that liberation is not understood only economically. There may be certain biases sometimes, which do harm to the integrity or wholeness of liberation. It shows the greatness of a theologian like Leonardo Boff, that for example, in his volume Jesus Christ the Libera-tor he writes some pertinent pages precisely to denounce such a bias. Structural Sin Recently another aspect of integral liberation has come to the fore, namely, liberation from "social sin" or "structural evil." Of course, Christians have always known of sins in the social sphere, and also of the social aspect of every sin. It is new, however, to call social struc-tures themselves sinful. It has taken some controversy to clarify that the word "sin" in this expression is used in analogy with the personal sin we had known hitherto. Both good and bad actions can embody and per-petuate themselves in structures, which are accordingly good or bad, and, once established, are the source of further good or evil. So certain structures are called sinful, while they originate from and in turn lead to personal sin. They definitely restrict our freedom and often they ten- Review for Religious, November-December 1990 der us unfree to a considerable extent. The individual is in those cases often both cause and victim. Those who create these structures or main-tain them or profit from them or even in complicity tolerate them are guilty. This social sin is part of the mystery of iniquity that cries for libera-tion towards the Lord of history and brings out the human race's need of redemption. It is by no means easy to admit this sin for oneself, to free oneself from its entanglement, and to work for liberation of others on this level--far more difficult usually than in the sphere of personal sin. One can be certain that attempts towards changing these structures will bring 'with them many personal inconveniences, hardships, threats, loss of friends and relations, in certain countries imprisonment, torture, and even death, as many have found out, especially in the last decades. When I interpreted freedom as a readiness to accept suffering, I had these kinds of situations in mind. A person who is not free to suffer cannot think of working for liberation from structural sin. Vulnerability is a genu-ine assurance that we are in touch with reality, truth, and love, not self-interest. Here, more than anywhere else, it is important to realize that God is the chief agent in overcoming evil, and that we are cooperators with him, instruments in his hand, branches of the vine. Without this con-viction coming from faith, the challenge would overwhelm us. A Church which is too much concerned about itself, its own image, and its own problems cannot tackle this task, just as an individual who is too egocentric cannot engage in it. The Church has to proclaim the Lord Jesus, above all in his paschal mystery of death and resurrection, and not proclaim itself. Liberation in its many aspects requires the over-coming of all self-centeredness, both in the individual and in the Church. The more the Church is focused on the person of Jesus and not on itself, the more the Church will be able to discover what men and women of other religions and other visions are doing for liberation, and to cooper-ate with them. It seems to be a special task of the religious to help the Church to focus on our Lord and Savior and thereby to be open to all people of good will who pledge themselves to liberation. Obviously, we can only help the Church in this by doing it ourselves and by being loyal to our Church. Dangers Much praise has been sung to the spirituality of liberation in this ar-ticle, and rightly so. Some dangers must be mentioned also. Not to cool down our commitment, but to safeguard it. I do not want to elaborate on these dangers, yet it seems unfair to me to pass them by completely. SpiritualiO, of Liberation / ~135 So let me just give the headings as I found them in an article ("Como Fazer Teologia da Libertac~o," published by: Vozes, Petr6polis, Bra-zil 1986) written jointly by Clodovis and Leonardo Boff: - a neglect of the mystical roots - a rampage of the political aspects - a stifling of the faith through too much discussion - a tendency towards exclusiveness and absolutism - an exaggerated emphasis on the discontinuity with the tradition and an underestimating of the continuity - a negligence of a serious dialogue and discussion with other spirituali-ties -a lack of care to make the theology of liberation understandable and pal-atable to the authority in the Church, which delays the conversion of the Church to the poor. After having rushed through these dangers, let me close with a quota-tion from the encyclical of Pope John Paul Redemptoris Mater and with a word of hope. Mary "Drawing from Mary's heart, from the depth of her faith expressed in the words of the Magnificat, the Church renews ever more effectively in herself the awareness that the truth about God who saves, the truth about God who is the source of every girl, cannot be separated from the manifestation of his love of preference for the poor and the humble, that love, which, celebrated in the Magnificat, is later expressed in the words and works of Jesus. The Church is thus aware--and at the present time this awareness is particularly vivid--not only that these two elements of the message contained in the Magnificat cannot be separated, but also that there is a duty to safeguard carefully the importance of 'the poor' and of 'the option in favor of the poor' in the word of the living God. These are matters and questions intimately connected with the Christian meaning of freedom and liberation. 'Mary is totally dependent upon God and completely directed towards him, and, at the side of her Son, she is the most perfect image of freedom and of the liberation of humanity and of the universe. It is to her as Mother and Model that the Church must look in order to understand in its completeness the meaning of her own mission' " (Nr.37). Hope It is common among the theologians.of liberation to stress the hope Review for Religious, November-December 1990 that is manifest in their movement. To work and to struggle for libera-tion for any length of time is impossible without authentic hope. This hope is not identical with optimism. Optimism emphasizes the positive aspects and draws attention away from the negative, tends to underesti- ¯ mate the latter, and even to repress them. It may be a pleasant attitude, but it is often not quite realistic. Hope, on the contrary, faces the difficulties and the pain, yet does not lose heart. Hope is more than an impulse. Hope makes us faithful and persevering. Hope discloses a great strength, which is beyond us. Hope is able to sail its own course with every wind, even with head wind. Charles P6guy portrays hope as a little girl between her two big sisters who hold her by the hand. It looks as if the two big ones lead the little one, but the opposite is true. It is hope that keeps faith and love alive, young, and vital. The basic communities and the other groups that embody the libera-tion movement are centers of hope. This hope is not an acquired, but an infused virtue--that means beyond us and yet in us as a divine gift, as a fruit of the paschal mystery. "Through him (Christ) you have confi-dence in God, who raised him from the dead and gave him glory, so that your faith is hope in God" (1 P 1:21). Compline Salvation danced In the dark Of Mary's womb, Was paid with blood On a black hill, Then rose for all From death's dead tomb. So I must trust Your grace unseen Till from life's grave I, too, am freed. Kathleen T. Choi 1706Waianuenue Avenue Hilo, Hawaii 96720 Liberation and the Liturgical Year ¯ Susan Anderson Kerr, Ph.D. Susan Anderson Kerr is an Oblate of St. Louis Priory in Petersham, Massachusetts. Her address is 4209 Avenue F; Austin, Texas 78751. When we observe the culture around us and see the emptin~s_.s of living apari ~?o~m ]he liturgical year, we see that the liturgical ~ar is hot some pious preoccupation of people with a taste for the archaic. It is a ques-tion of survival, of urgent importance for an age hungry for liberation, and respectful of those who survive. It is a question of freedom, of vast relevance for our culture which reveres freedom, struggles with addic-tions, and seeks personal liberation from materialism, sexism, racism, and a host of enslaving isms. In an age of decline and disintegration such as ours, many people turn to the inner life to exert the yearning for goodness and truth and beauty which in another era would have had a greater possibility for ex-ternal expression in politics or art or education. The pain of the loss of knowing how to do things--how to accomplish civic reforms, how to com-bat drugs and violence, how to overcome the hedonism and cynicism of our time---can send people on a spiritual quest. So we have an outpour-ing of books on the inner life--Jungian psychology, individual prayer techniques, popularizations of the great works of Catholic spirituality. But if we attend only to our individual spiritual growth while neglect-ing liturgical spirituality, we try to walk to the heavenly Jerusalem on one leg. The Lord does not intend for us to so hobble. Part of the reason we neglect the liturgy is that it effects our healing so circuitously, circling like the rings around the trunk of the tree. We want results now; we are on fire with intentions. Romano Guardini once observed that liturgy is much more like a forest where one wanders than a gymnasium where with fixed purpose one exercises certain muscles. 837 Review for Religious, November-December 1990 Another reason we slight the liturgy is that those great masters of the spiri-tual life--St. Teresa of Avila, St. John of the Cross, St. Ignatius of Loyola--who are such help to us wrote at a time of liturgical decadence when desiccated liturgies were an obstacle to spiritual growth. When we try to walk on both legs, liturgical as well as individual prayer, other saints will help us, saints who wrote when liturgy and spiri-tuality were not at cross purposes, saints in the monastic tradition, like St. Benedict and St. Gertrude. The Vatican documents of the renewal of the liturgy are also useful in correcting our understanding of the value of liturgy. Personal prayer is a logical place to begin as one searches for encoun-ter with God, but to linger there is to remain a spiritual adolescent. To relate the liturgical year to the individual's private life of prayer is to ad-dress a practical question: why pay attention to the liturgical year? If I am learning centering prayer, or the Jesus prayer, or my Enneagram num-ber, or how to relate to my anima or animus, why do I need the liturgi-cal year? Is this not a formal structure which has nothing at all to do with the rich spontaneity and diversity of my inner life? "Blessed be the Lord, the God of Israel; he has come to his people and set them free," the Church sings each morning. And so God has. The liturgical year invites us into liberation in three areas: freedom from chronos and cyclical time, freedom from nature, and freedom from the tyranny of our unconscious. First, the liturgical year helps shape our understanding of the mean-ing of time. It removes us from the pagan sense of time as repetition, nature's cycle endlessly repeating itself, and from the atheist's concep-tion of time as pure chronos. It introduces a.God-ward momentum and shaping of time, an upwardly moving spiral. Empty repetition and end-less succession are replaced by repetition at higher levels on the spiral, by kairos punctuating chronos, or chronos building to and being shaped by kairos. Like a lovely shell, the liturgical year has been extruded cen-tury after long century as the Church needed more space in which to dwell. The liturgical year gives us a common memory. This happens on sev-eral levels: on the cosmic level, as Pierre Teiihard de Chardin describes, the Church evolves towards the omega point; on the historic level as the Church organizes time before and after our Lord's death; on the personal level as our individual existence takes its place in this great spiral flow-ing towards God. Intimately linked with our common memory of the liturgical year is Liberation and the Liturgical Year the common authority which establishes it. The Church has to maintain the central focus on the life of Christ, balancing between a proliferation of feast days which would result in a loss of shape to the Church year, and the impulse to celebration which led one desert father to exult "Life is an eternal festival." Second, the liturgical year frees us from romantic identification with nature. But what does the liturgical year express about our relationship to nature? Partly organized around the sun, partly around the moon, the liturgical year demonstrates as Odo Casel remarks, the maxim "Grace builds on nature." The week evolved from divisions of the lunar cycle, for the Hebrew festal calendar, like the first calendar cycles of most primi-tive religions, was lunar. The Jewish lunar months were divided by sab-batical weeks; the Mosaic sabbath is based on 7 as a perfect number, ex-pressing completion and fullness. The Easter celebration evolved from the Jewish liturgical cycle which had gradually replaced nature rituals with festivals commemorating Israel's history of salvation. Unlike the polytheistic peoples around them who made the powers of nature divine, the Jewish people came to see nature as a tool and im-age of the spiritual. The feast of Pesach had nomadic roots, for it is cele-brated at the first full moon after the vernal equinox when a young male lamb is sacrificed, roasted, and eaten. But its central focus is the reen-actment of the deliverance of Israelfrom the hands of Egypt. When Je-sus transformed this feast by identifying himself with the sacrificial lamb, he lifted it from its local origin and universalized it into the feast of the salvation of all human beings of every time. But Easter does not thereby shed its lunar and historical associations. Thus the cyclic observance of the vernal equinox is lifted first into the hope of renewal in human history recalled in the Passover festival, and then universalized in the.final eschatological hope of Easter. We see a similarl appropriation of ~natureir~ the use of the sun in the liturgical year. Jesus, as the light of the world, was identified with the sun. His birth is celebrated at the winter solstice, transforming and uni-versalizing the pagan festival of the sol invictus. His conception is thus celebrated nine months earlier near the vernal equinox, March 25. Since according to Luke 1:26, John the Baptist was conceived six months be-' fore Jesus, his conception is observed at the autumnal equinox, and his birth, by extension, at the summer solstice June 24. Thus the two equi-noxes and the two solstices are brought into the Christian year and trans-formed from cyclic rituals to feasts of the birth of life and light into this world's darkness. ~140 / Review for Religious, November-December 1990 John the Baptist's feasts are also associated with the sun's activity; in the fourth century they were seen as cosmic confirmation of John's own words "He must increase; but I must decrease" (Jn 3:30). The prayer of the Divine Office is also organized around the sun; the two most important hours occur when the sun rises and when it sets. Here the beginning and ending of the day are bound up with the life of the Lord: the sun's rising is an image of his rising from the dead; vespers, when the sun sets, the beginning of a new day, is eucharistic in charac-ter, full of thanksgiving for the light that has been. The Church uses nature as the basis for sacred time, but does not re-main encased within natural rhythms. The liturgical year steers the Chris-tian away from romantic identification with nature, from new age senti-mentality about its saving power, as well as from Gnostic fear of the ca-pacity of creation to convey divine purposes. Like an enormous tree nour-ished with roots deep in our personal and collective unconscious, it also teaches respect for natural processes, for slow growth, for rhythms be-yond human control. Finally, the liturgical year unfetters our freedom from the tyranny of our unconscious. When Moses stood before the burning bush aiad saw that this was holy ground, he entered a new place to live. That place is prayer; it is man's response to God's holiness and comes into existence only in communion with God. We can compare this to the common ground that exists between two friends; when I get to know someone, drawn by mutual interests or complementary personalities, a territory of shared experience grows between us. As the holy ground between man and the divine extends in time, so is born the inner liturgical year. "Moses, Moses, take off your shoes, for the place on which you stand is holy ground" (Ex 3:5). Liturgy must be interior as well as exterior for it to be whole. The structures of worship which ancient Israel built in response to Moses' ex-perience of the transcendence of God--first the altar of sacrifice, later a mobile tabernacle, and the Sabbath--were images of inner freedom, of the oblation of self to Yahweh, to Being. The early Church absorbed the Jewish sabbath into a festival of the Lord's day, Sunday, a day to celebrate the Resurrection of Christ, the fulfillment of the Incarnation which was implicit in the assent to crea-tion celebrated on the sabbath. The Documents of Vatican II remind us "The Lord's Day is the original feast day, and it should be proposed to the faithful and taught to them so that it may become in fact a day of joy and of freedom from work" (Vol. I p. 29). Liberation and the Liturgical Year In Sunday is the seed of all later festivals. We encounter Sunday first in the gospels, for this is the day of the Resurrection, the day the Lord appeared to Mary Magdalene. Also in Scripture we find the first repeti-tion of Sunday, for it was one week later after his Resurrection that the Lord appeared to Thomas and the company assembled in the upper room and breathed his peace on them. Thus, in the book of Acts, the early Church observes Sunday as a day to celebrate the Resurrection; not a day of rest, not a continuation of the Jewish sabbath, but a new day, an eighth day, of completion, and a first day of rejoicing in creation. To celebrate Sunday witnesses to our busy and harried society of the freedom and goodness of the Christian vision of life. A reform of Sun-day can only come from within the individual life; the era of puritanical prohibitions has done its job of proposing to us what a day of rest would look like, and now it is up to us to practice an asceticism of time so that shopping, banking, errands, and office work can be laid aside for one day. A day to affirm the goodness of creation means a day for play, for friends, for music, for nature. This is a gift from God. Accepting it wit-nesses to the eternal festival latent behind the celebration of this special day. The Christian who observes Sunday as a day of joy and freedom from work learns the interconnectedness of time, for such a Sunday be-gins the night before. As the Jews began to observe a holy day with the vigil of the preceding night, so the Christian liturgical year interweaves all time around this structure of the week, each festival held in place by the surrounding times. Liturgical memory looks backwards and forwards as it draws strength for the present. Sunday looks back to divine assent to creation, and forward to the heavenly rest we anticipate. Celebrating Sunday nourishes our freedom to set aside work and worry and simply be. Liturgical memory forms the whole memory. People who can set aside their personal agenda and enter into the communal celebration, or who make the communal agenda their personal concern, are the ones who then can place their individual psychological problems in a wide con-text. They are not locked into the present, because they are formed to see it held in a web between past and future, nor are they confined to their own personal viewpoint however fully it might be absorbing them. In other words, the liturgy is a school of detachment, a word which in English sounds cold and lonely. I am told the German equivalent, abgeschiedenheit, would be translated as "serene freedom of the spirit filled with utter trust in God." That is the result of a memory formed 849 / Review for Religious, November-December 1990 by the liturgy. But it is accomplished not directly and didactically, but symbolically and by example. Thus the liturgy teaches us that every feast must be preceded by a period of preparation: no Sunday without week-days, no Christmas without Advent, no Easter without Lent, and plenty of ordinary time to allow the mysteries of Christ to be absorbed and di-gested. Here is delayed gratification made visible. But this is more than just training in patience for high points. St. Cath-erine of Siena once said "All the way to heaven is heaven." That is what the liturgy says tool Advent and Lent, ordinary time, all the small roots of morning and evening prayer absorb water for the tree's growth which is celebrated at Christmas, Easter, and Pentecost. In the liturgical year, the Church has given us not only a survival strat-egy, but a place to grow as well. Aidan Kavanaugh wrote "Liberators accomplish only half their task then they liberate. The other half of their labor is to provide a normal place, a free place, on which the liberated may land." That normal, free place, that place out of the reach of the forces of the enemy, of the trendy, the selfish, the trivial, is the liturgi-cal year. Morning Praise At my window the willow filigrees the gold of dawn and hangs it on my wall; trembling fronds lose themselves in the sudden glow that,starset and sunrise trace upon the morning. I, too, in this hour am lost in grace-gold shower that spills upon the desert of my heart. Sister Elizabeth deSales Dee, S.S.J. St. Joseph Convent 7300 Torresdale Avenue Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19136 The Vowed Life as a Peace Story to Be Told Patricia McCarthy, C.N.D. Sister Patricia McCarthy, a member of the Congregation of Notre Dame, has worked with the poor in the field of education, particularly with homeless and abused chil-dren, where the ministry of nonviolence is a daily challenge. Her address is Congre-gation of Notre Dame; 41 Cole Street; East Providence, Rhode Island 02914. Among the international travel ads which I faithfully read, I have noticed recently a new type of tour being offered. It is possible to visit northern Europe on a special story-telling trip. Imagine going from thatched roof cottages to desolate moors and dangerous harbors, and all the time lis-tening. The accents would change with the landscapes, and both would change the stories. Just listen and hear the true nature of the countries and its people come out in ways more real than through the products at the duty-free shops in the airports. Then I began to wonder. Will we be able to t~il stories that will en-thrall and inspire? Do we live passionately enough to be sources of hope and interest for future generations? Will others tell and retell with drama and humor the stories of our lives? Thomas Hardy said: "A story must be exceptional enough to justify its telling. We storytellers are all ancient mariners, and none of us is justified in stopping wedding guests unless he has something more unusual to relate than the ordinary experiences of every man and woman." I continue to wonder. What stories in our generation will justify their retelling? Could it be that when the story of peace is told, religious men and women will be talked about? When storytellers explain poverty, celi-bacy, and obedience, will they tell the tales of people so in love with God and with their'brothers and sisters that they wrapped this love in freely 843 Review for Religious, November-December 1990 chosen vows? When the listeners ask what gave these religious such passion and why were they so free to love, will the storyteller have to risk entering into mystery? Will the story become one with the story and mystery of Jesus? There is no reasonable explanation for a God who loved so passion-ately that he came and lived among us. He taught us and healed us and blessed us. Finally, he gave himself on the cross for our redemption. Will the story of religious life make sense only within this context of aban-donment? Is not religious life the lived expression of Jesus' surrender to God for love of us? Gandhi said that Jesus Christ's offering of himself on the cross for the redemption of the world was the only perfect act of nonviolence the world has ever seen. Since the very nature of religious life is to be inti-mately united with Jesus, the vows can be considered in light of his su-preme act of peacemaking. The vows can be seen as living realities that transform people into peacemakers for our fragile world. We search high and low for ways of being peace in the midst of hostility and violence. Perhaps if we go deeply into the vows we will see not only the founda-tion of religious life but the foundation of peacemaking as well. Freedom In Poverty We begin in poverty. Scripture has always put God in the midst of the poor. In the Old Testament, Yahweh compassionately watched over the anawim. To the childless, children were given; to the homeless, a chosen land; to the hungry, manna in the desert; to the lost, visions and dreams to follow. When the fullness of time came, a wretched stable was the birthplace of the Son of God. His first experience of life was as a refugee in a foreign land. And his first teaching began, "Blessed are the poor in spirit." We choose poverty because Jesus did. Poverty and want are evils when people are denied the necessary elements of survival. It makes no sense to embrace a vow of poverty. The vows do not make sense, they make love. We risk letting go of material security as a source of com-fort and happiness so that Christ can be our only fulfillment. What does this have to do with peace? Everything. If Christ is our wealth, we have nothing on this earth to defend, including our own lives. Lack of desire to defend one's possessions or life would make war improbable and unnecessary. Wars are usually started for economic rea-sons. Either an aggressor is greedy for the acquisition of land or eco-nomic control, or an oppressed people revolt against the denial of their The Vowed Life as a Peace Story to Be Told / 845 right to a decent standard of life. The slogans of freedom cover the at-tempts ~to maintain or increase power. During Texas' war for indepen-dence, a young soldier wrote home to his family: "If we win, we'll all be rich. If we lose, we will have died for freedom." Greed-induced vio-lence leaves millions of shattered and broken lives in its wake. Bring into this picture an army of people vowing poverty. It would remind one of the pages from a pre-primer book where the child has to pick out what is wrong with the picture. What does not fit in with every-thing else? A vow of poverty is countercultural when greed is the ear-mark of the culture. Why would someone with nothing to defend go to war for the purpose of defense? Of course, war is merely the outward extreme expression of the daily violence abiding in the human heart. It is, therefore, from the heart that the message of peace must come, not from a treaty or constitution. It is also within the heart that the vow of poverty must be embraced and shaped. If we can say that as individuals we own nothing, then whatever we use or manage is done in the spirit of stewardship. And then if some-one asks for our coat, we do not fight; we give the scarf and hat as well. If people are hungry and we have food, we share what we have with them. A vow of poverty should lead us to the reality that all we possess is gift. Because we know personally the Giver of all gifts, our poverty seeks expression through trust in God and willingness to share with the children of God. Fidelity to the vow is not marked by having nothing, but by desiring nothing and by a willingness to share freely whatever we have. Conscious today that too many of our brothers and sisters are starv-ing, we should be willing to live a poverty more radical than anything that has been seen for decades. The world needs our example and our leadership in order to break the cycle of a few using for themselves alone the natural resources intended for all. Strong statements about sharing the fruits of the earth are necessary in a world so consumed by the ac-quisition of wealth. We distort and falsify Christ's plea to us not to worry about what we are to eat or wear when we stockpile the necessities of life. We can do that and have what we think we need day after day, but we miss out on even knowing how beautifully we would have been dressed and cared for, as the lilies of the field and the birds of the air. It is a small step from stockpiling consumer goods to stockpiling arms. Emptying our hands does not automatically produce a disarmed Review for Religious, November-December 1990 heart, but clutching hands certainly will prevent us from having one. We need the practice of trusting God for our daily bread so that when the time comes to trust in God for our very lives, the surrender and faith will be there. Our times are crying for people with disarmed and trusting hearts. Our times are crying for those of us who have vowed poverty to embrace it radically. Our times are crying for us to live out daily the reality that our only need is God. This is what a life of poverty calls us to. This is the truth of a vow of poverty. Gandhi used to live "experi-ments in truth." It was his way of learning. By this he meant an unin-terrupted progression from insight to action to insight, and so forth. He would get an idea, try it out in practice, refine his first idea because of the action, then go to another action, and so on. Poverty is a lifetime ex-periment in truth. We feel inspired to trust God a little and release our hold on something. This leads to more trust and the release of something else, and so on. It's lifetime because we will never run out of things to let go of! The wonder of our God is that we never miss the small insignificant tokens we have parted with. We are showered with the very life of God and have no needs outside of this. We learn to yearn for God alone, not merely the gifts of God. Even when God seems absent from us, we have no desire to seek consolation from any other source. Perhaps, then, we receive our dearest treasure, a poor heart, totally dependent upon God for everything. Only then, when we have nothing left to defend, will we have been formed into peacemakers after the model of Jesus. In our communion with each other and with those who came before us, we see that the peacemakers who stand out in any century were peo-ple of great poverty. Francis, the poor man of Assisi; Mahatma Gandhi, the Hindu ascetic; Thomas Merton, the trappist; Dorothy Day, the bow-ery dweller. They are not remembered because they were deprived, they are remembered because they had so much to give. Passion ,in Celibacy If a generous heart is the sign of vowed poverty, then a passionate heart is the sign of vowed celibacy. The vow of celibacy is at the core of the consecrated life, just as surrender to the passionate love of Christ is at the core of peacemaking. We cannot expect people to give up their arms of defense against other people and to be vulnerable to human ha-tred, unless we have first taught them to let go of their defenses against God and to be vulnerable to infinite love. The vulnerability of passion-ate love embodies an act of complete trust in God, of counting on God The Vowed Life as a Peace Story to Be Told to never abandon us or leave us unprotected. Celibacy calls us to this surrender of our very bodies to the love of God. By this vow, we witness in flesh to the power of God to fulfill us and protect us. This same passionate surrender is required of all peace-makers. They need not be celibate, but they do need to enflesh the pri-macy of the power and love of God. It is this primacy of God which is the clear witness of the vow of celibacy. It is the same primacy of the love and power of God to which Christ surrendered. Peace is not within our grasp without the act of redemption of Christ on Calvary. No matter how selfless or sacrificing we might be, the ability to take on and endure violence in order to heal it is the work of God. We share in this work, we are the hands and feet of Christ to-day, but he is the source and fountain of all life, of all power, and of all power to endure violence without retaliation. The clearest and most visible example of this power of God taking flesh is Mary, the virgin Mother of God. Mary trusted so completely in the power of God that she surrendered in faith to bear the Son of God in her womb. Within her body Mary carried Jesus Christ who was con-ceived by the Holy Spirit. "The Holy Spirit will come upon you and the power of the Most High will overshadow you" (Lk i:35). "The fact that she conceived without human means is the sign that she conceived by the power of God. And in this she is a sign to us of our own radical de-pendence on God and on our union with him in grace in order to bear fruit or to do anything that is divinely life-giving on earth "(David Knight, Mary in an Adult Church Memphis: His Way Communications, 1988, pp. 22,23). We see in Mary the cost and the fruit of faith-filled trust in God. We see in Mary a woman confident of God"s continual care and boundless love. We see in Mary a woman whose heart was turned into a furnace of love by the Holy Spirit. We can expect the same care and mercy from God, we can expect to receive the same fire of love from the Holy Spirit. Belief in this fact alone should put us in the front lines of peacemaking. If God is the power of our lives, we do not put our trust in other earthly powers. We have vowed celibacy, consecrated our bodies to virginity. This is a visible em-bodiment of receptivity and of openness to God's working with us and through us. It is a physical expression of total surrender to the loved one; it is the abandonment of all defenses and reserves in the presence of the beloved. It is a matter of the heart. Gandhi taught that nonviolence, also, was a matter of the heart, not 848 / Review for Religious, November-December 1990 to be arrived at by an appeal to the brain: that it was a matter of passion not of policy. Celibacy is not an intellectual thing but a passionate physi-cal stance. A life vowed to celibacy, within which we surrender in love the essence of our being, forms a heart capable of understanding and em-bracing nonviolence. A heart can be formed in many ways. Some of the ascetical prac-tices that used to accompany a study of the vows can be seen now as fash-ioning hearts for peacemaking. Fasting--one of the oldest practices in religious tradition---can be undertaken as a concrete expression of the pri-macy of God in our life. It is far more an act of worship than an act of discipline, To live the reality that God is the power of our lives, at times we freely abandon or fast from food or other material things. When the needs of our bodies call out, we turn ourselves over to God in whose pres-ence we abide. It is not the abstaining from food which is holy, but the turning of our attention and desires to God. Prayer becomes the love language of the celibate. When we love someone, there is no end to the variety of ways in which we say it. All the different prayer styles and prayer methods are merely different ways of giving and receiving love. Celibacy is about our bodies, and when we use these bodies to kneel in prayer we give expression to the reality of the vow. Just the act of kneeling is in itself a commitment of our body, a sign of intimate surrender to God. Such signs are important to us and to God. We are human and we yearn to give human expression to our desires; and God is pleased to see us using the gift of our bodies in worship. As important as these signs of surrender are, we go beyond them, we move from sign to reality when we participate in the Eucharistic celebration of Calvary. Union with Christ in the Mass is the commitment of our body to receive his Body. We share in Christ's moment of intimate surrender to his God. We offer ourselves with Christ to be transformed more and more into his Body. In this union we find the fulfillment of our celibacy. Out of this union, we are sent in service to our brothers and sisters. And this can be the passionate physical expression of love that physical penances were to some of the saints. Physical forms of penance are not outdated; they have j.ust changed style to adjust to the times. One (~f the saints stood in ice water up to his neck one winter's night, doing pen-ance for a friend who was considering sinful choices. Standing in the cold at the water's edge for hours in protest at a nuclear submarine base can be our modern day version of the same experience. Patiently endur-ing the irascible tempers and dispositions in a shelter for the homeless The Vowed Life as a Peace Story to Be Told or a soupline can be the discipline of the senses in this age. The ideal of self-sacrificing love can be applied to living within the noise and dan-ger of inner cities in order to be with today's anawim. Especially for those overcommitted and overworked religious who give beyond their limits, the ascetism most expressive of a loving re-sponse to God might be to fast from work one day a week. Work is any-thing that we think has to be done. Let it all go for a day. Keep holy the Lord's day. If we believe God is our source of power, let our bodies and minds and energies show it by giving the time to being, not doing. It is possible .this practice could be far more productive than ceaseless days of activity. Surely, a day of rest with God is a practical act of trust, one that might lead us to become even more practical and venture into the constant trust required for a vow of obedience. Stewardship of Self in Obedience Having emptied our hands through poverty and surrendered our hearts in celibacy, we receive from God through obedience the assurance that all is done in accord with the divine plan. Every peacemaker must be obedient, but religious have the value of a vow. This vow does not just mean doing what someone else tells you to do. Doing what some-one else tells you is simple; it may not be easy, but it is simple and un-complicated. That is not what the vow of obedience calls us to. Obedience calls us to listen to God's designs for us, to listen to God's desires for us. Obe-dience calls us to stewardship of the gift of God that is ourselves. If we value the goods and fruits of our fragile earth so much that we h01d them in stewardship, how much more should we value ourselves and hold our-selves in stewardship. We are a gift of God, to be treasured and used ac-cording to the plan of God. Obedience encourages us to take seriously this call to stewardship of self. The first step of the obedient peacemaker is to listen to this call. It will be unique to each person. No one else can listen to it for us. Per-haps the most common sin of disobedience today is not the failure to do what is asked by lawful authority, but the failure to do what, over and above this, is asked by God. Probably few of us consciously, explicitly deny God. But do we consistently hear God's requests and calls? When we are consumed by plans and activities of our own, are we willing to change and to let God move us in another direction? If we have vowed celibacy and said that God is the source of power in our lives, are we able to live that out by listening for .the delicate, unobtrusive voice of God day after day and abandoning all our ideas and hopes to the ideas Review for Religious, November-December 1990 and hopes of God? How do we hear God? We open ourselves to being vulnerable and receptive to all the known and unknown ways God speaks: our own in-stincts and desires, needs of others, realities of life over which we have no control, requests from our communities, and decisions by those who minister through authority. It would be easier if we were the only judge of what is the desire of God. We have been created for community with God's people, and in community we hear and discern the will of God. We pray in our rooms and in our churches and in our workplaces. We seek the face of God, alone and with others. Obedience is not a private vow, it is a communal one. In the base communities of Latin America, private prayer and com-munal reflection on the word of God precede any action for justice. Peo-ple do not act on their own instincts alone; plans for action are submit-ted to the reflection and discussion of the community. There is always a person or group to whom every individual is accountable. This is a cru-cial factor in these communities, a factor which is most difficult for groups in North America who have tried to model the base community style. The same principle of responsible accountability was applied by Gandhi in his struggle for freedom in India and by Martin Luther King, Jr. in his struggle for freedom from racism in America. In their actions for nonviolent resistance, both men taught their people to begin with prayer and fasting. Individuals were prepared step-by-step for the action that had been decided upon. Not everyone was permitted to participate if the leaders thought they were not ready. Obedience to the plan was crucial. Today when civil disobedience is done correctly, all those partici-pating should have another person or group to whom they are responsi-ble. If that person or group tells an individual to discontinue the action, that person is expected to obey. If we are serious about the work of jus-tice then we had better be serious about obedience. Civil disobedience for individuals with vows of obedience is a won-derful opportunity to exercise the vow. Civil disobedience must always be an expression of personal commitment, not just of association with a just cause. For a religious to accept the call to steffardship of self so seriously that there may be a time when the law of God takes precedence over the law of society, a process of discernment should be a prerequi-site to the action. Prayer, study, and discussion should operate on three levels: personal, local, and provincial. Discernment on all three levels The Vowed L

Issue 35.2 of the Review for Religious, 1976. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS IS edited by faculty members of St Louis Umvers~ty, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building, 539 North Grand Boule-vard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. Published bimonthly and copyright (~) 1976 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Composed, printed, and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $2.00. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $7.00 a year; $13.00 for two years; other countries, $8.00 a year, $15.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order payable to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor March 1976 Volume 35 Number 2 Renewals, new subscriptions, and changes of address should be sent to Review for Religious; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Correspondence with the editor and the associate editor together with manuscripts and books for review should be sent to Review for Religious; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsyl-vania 19131. Mary, Model of the Church Paul VI December 8, 1975, marked not only the solemnity of the Immaculate Conception but also the tenth anniversary of the conclusion of the Second Vatican Council. This is the text of the Pope's homily in St. Peter's on that occasion.* Venerable Brothers and Beloved Sons! and all of you, special guests at this pious ceremony, Teachers, Research workers and Students of the Pontifical Roman Universities, you P~upils in our seminaries, you Members of the Ecclesiastical and Religious Colleges of the City, or associhtes of the Secular Institutes. And you, beloved Daughters in Christ, Religious, Novices, Probationers and Pupils of the Houses of formation for women in Rome. And then you, too, our Roman faithful, and you pilgrims of the Holy Year and visitors to this holy City. And finally you (we wish to gather everyone in the multiple value of the rite we are celebrating), you, we say, former members and protagonists 'of the Second Ecumenical Vatican Council, convened here to commemo-rate with us the tenth anniversary, which falls today, of those great ec-clesiastical sessions! Listen to us, all of you! and let us invite you to a moment of contem-plation, spiritual and almost visual, as if the appearance of her whose ex-traordinary feast we are celebrating today were present in the background of this Basilica, as if-hovering in the unique splendour, proper to herself (even if reflected from the divine source of light); and we were to see her with the prophetic eyes of the evangelist of the Apocalypse: *Abstracted from Osservatore Romano, 12/18/75, pp. 6-7. 161 162 / Review [or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/2 Behold! "A great portent appeared in heaven, a woman clothed with the sun, with the moon under her feet, and on her head a crown of twelve stars" (Apoc 12, 1; cf. Cant 6, 4 ft.). What is it? Who is it? We are amazed and absorbed by the Bible vision; and in our dazzled astonishment we lose the sense of reality. We do not forgo expressing as best we can the value of that mysterious image; and without continuing, for the present, with the scene in the Apocalypse, we are satisfied to know the double name that has been superimposed on that heavenly figure by the masters of Holy Scripture, as if exclaiming, in an-swer to our anxious curiosity: it is Mary, it is Mary, that Woman clothed with the sun, with the moon under her feet, and the mysterious crown of stars on her head! It is the Church, it is the Church! the scholars inform us, studying the secrets of the figurative and symbolical language of the world of the Apocalypse. Perhaps they are right. As for us, we are happy to honour Mary and the Church, the first the Mother of Christ in the flesh; the second the .Mother of his Mystical Body, and she herself part of that Mystical Body. All Brothers and Sons! For a moment let us fix our thought, dazzled and happy, on the first meaning of the bewildering vision; and let us say to ourselves, with the intention of celebrating the mystery of the Immaculate Conception: that is what Mary is like! Her aspect is heavenly and tri-umphal~ but if closely observed, it is that of a Woman "humble and lofty more than a creature" (Par 33, 2). So humble, in fact, that she banishes all our respectful trepidation (cf. Lk 1, 48), and almost invites us to see in her a beloved Sister. At the very moment that we dare to address to her a trusting word, no other words come to our lips than those of the Gospel: Blessed art thou! (Lk 1, 45 and 48). Yes, blessed! And for how many reasons! One among the many we are celebrating today, and we would like to put it at the peak of our devotion to Mary: her Immaculate Conception! That is, God's preferential thought for this creature of his; the intention to 'see in her again the original innocence of a being conceived "in the. image and likeness" of himself, God (Gen 1, 26-27), not disturbed, not contaminated by any stain, by any imperfection, as are all the children Of Eve, all mankind, except Christ and except her, the Blessed Virgin. An idea; a divine dream] a masterpiece of human beauty, not sought in the formal model only, but realized in the intrinsic and incomparable capacity of ex-pressing the Spirit in the flesh, the divine likenes~ in the human countenance, invisible Beauty in the physical figure. Mary, All Beauty Tota pulchra es, Maria.t You are beauty, real, pure, holy beauty, oh Mary! This should be the real and ideal image of the Blessed Virgin, re-flected, luminous and illuminating, in Our individual souls, today, oh Faith- Mary, Model o] the Church / 163 ful; as the synthesis of our admiration and devotion to the Blessed Virgin, whose feast, eminently theological and eminently ecclesial, we are celebrat-ing. Theological, because we deduce it from revelation and from the most vigilant and loving reflection, with which the most candid and virginal piety dared, certainly with her assistance, to fix an enraptured and exPloring gaze on her pure, humble face, the perfect face of sacred and human beauty~ Ecclesial, because from being a mirror of divine perfection, speculum iusti-tiae, she offers herself to us as a mirror of human perfection, in which the Church, venerating the Blessed Virgin, "joyfully contemplates, as in a faultless model (it is the Council speaking; Sacr. Cone., n. 103), that which she herself wholly desires and hopes to be"; a nuptial beauty which St. Paul, as we all remember, describes in a stupendous way: "in all its splen-dour, without spot or wrinkle, or any such thing, that she might be holy and without blemish" (Eph 5, 27). The Church's holiness, in its state of becoming, has its model, its "typus" in Mary, as St. Ambrose will say (in Lucam, II-7), and St. Augustine will comment: "figuram in se sanctae Ecclesiae demonstravit" (De Symbolo, I; P.L. 40, 661), Mary represented in herself the figure of the Holy Church. ¯ A model, a specimen, an ideal figure of the Church; is that enough? The theological truth goes further, and enters the frontiers of that subordinate causality, which in the divine plan of salvation inseparably associates the creature, Mary, the Handmaid of the "Fiat," with the mystery of the In-carnation, and makes her,: St. Irenaeus writes, "a cause of,this salvation for herself and for the whole of mankind" (Adv. haereses, III, 22, 4). "Mother of the Church" We will rejoice, then, to have in St. Augustine the conclusion which at the end of the III section of the Council we made our own, explicitly recog-nizing the unquestionable right of the Blessed Virgin to the title of "Mother of the Church." If, in fact, Mary is the mother of Christ in the flesh, and Christ is the head of the Church, his Mystical Body, Mary' is spiritually the Mother of this Body, to which she herself belongs, at an eminent level, as daughter and sister (cf. St. Augustine, de Sancta Virginitate, V and VI; P, L. 40, 339; and cf, H. De Lubac, Mdd. sur l'Eglise, c. IX) . To you, Teachers, Research workers and Students of our Rbman Uniz versities; to you, young Seminarian~, to you, Religious men and women, goes particularly a cry from our heart: love, invoke and imitate Mary Immaculate, the Mother of Christ and the Mother of the Ctiurch, and make good use, for the present and for future generations, of the treasure of wisdom that the second Vatican Ecumenical Council was and is. The Spirit Speaks: When and How? Thomas Dubay, S.M. Father Dubay, a frequent contributor to our journal, is engaged full time in lecturing and writing in the area of religious life. His home address is: Marist Seminary; 220 Taylor Street, N.E.; Washington, DC 20017 "Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening" (1 Kgs 3:10). ¯ One need not emphasize the point that a vibrant sector of Christian life at this point of history is the sector of the Spirit, the Holy Spirit. The charismatic renewal has been promoting with no little success a whole life-style patterned on and growing out of a program centered in the Spirit's activity in the midst of God's people. This renewal is by no means restricted to "the release of the Spirit'? or the gift of tongues or the healing ministry. It is felt that the Holy Spirit is speaking today not only to saints but to sinners, not only to officialdom but to the lowly placed. To some considerable extent, but not with an entire coincidence with the charismatic movement, the Spirit movement' has been prominent in renewal efforts carried on in religious life. Books, articles, lectures, chapter documents often refer to the Holy Spirit, especially under the rubric of openness to Him, listening to Him. The central thrust here is not so much prayer experience, speaking in tongues or engaging in a healing ministry as it is in detecting what God is saying to us, both to the individual and to the community. This thrust toward listening to the Spirit is readily noted in the popularity of discernment methods, techniques, processes~ Although one begins to sense an incipient, weariness with discernment talk, the interest remains noteworthy. The reality surely is of crucial importance in an age struggling to find the mind of God and to read the signs of the times. If God does speak to His people--and Scripture insists that He does--it can never be unimportant to listen. 164 The Spirit Speaks: When and How? / 165 An Anomalous Situation But this ."listening" is where .our problems begin, problems that press for solution. Before we can intelligently explain how one listens to the indwell-ing God, we should first understand something of how He speaks. The literature of our day, issuing both from the charismatic renewal and from religious life circles, says almost nothing on this subject. As a matter of fact, I must. candidly add that while speculative theologians often refer to the activity of the Holy Spirit in the Church, they seldom discuss how He acts and enlightens the individual through a personal contact. They do, of course, rightly point out that God speaks to His people through Scripture and through the representatives He has established in His Church: "he who hears you, hears Me" (Lk 10:16).1 But this is not the question at hand. People both in the Pentecostal movement and in religious life have in mind a personal (individual and!or communal) encounter with the Holy Spirit, and in this encounter they "listen to Him." Our situation, therefore, is odd. On the one hand many persons rou-tinely speak of "listening to the Spirit" as though He were as familiar as a friend speaking over one's right shoulder. Yet on the other hand almost no one explains how He speaks--even though we all know He does not speak in sound waves. Nor are we told how one can be so sure it is the Spirit speaking. Until we provide satisfactory answers to the question, "How does the Spirit speak?" we are left with some embarrassing problems. How can anyone be so sure he is listening to the Spirit and not to his own desires? We hardly need to debate the observation of Aldous Huxley: "The untutored egoist merely wants. Give him a religious education, and it becomes obvious to him, it becomes axiomatic, that what he wants is what God wants.'"-' Does God speak in diverse ways? If He does, how can we know the differences? What are we to think of,serious and sincere people who are convinced that they are receiving special messages from the Holy Spirit? Is good will enough to insure "listening to the Spirit"? Who Can Answer Our Questions? If it is true that the popular and theological literature on the con-temporary scene seldom discusses the title questign of this article, one may rightly wonder who can answer it? I know of two sources: Scripture and the mystics? We shall in this article explore both of these sources that we may discover on solid grounds when and how the Holy Spirit speaks in our own day. ~See also Jn 13:20; Jn 21:15-17; Lk 22:31-32; Tt 1:7; 1 Tm 3:15; 2Tin 3:14-16 and many other like texts. ~The Devils o] Loudun, p. 18. ZBy "mystics" here I do not refer to the recipients of extraordinary phenomena such as levitation or the stigmata. The word in Catholic theology indicates those men and women who have a deep experiential encounter with God. 166 / Review Jor Religious, Volume 35, 1976/2 Scripture on the Experience og God ~ ~ We may acknowledge at the outset~ ~that the Lord God did speak to select representatives in biblical times~ and in :extraordinary ways (Heb l:l ). However, we shall not be primarily concerned here with the divine messages addressed to public personages, to a Moses or to a Paul. Rather we shall direct our attention to the usual, frequent, routine ways God speaks to the inner heart of anyone close to Him. Our tasks will be three: a) Introductory observations b) What does one experience when he experiences God? c) Implications of the .biblical account. When we complete our biblical study, we shall~ investigate the mystics' message. They have a great deal to say about listening to God: when and how it happens and does not happen. a) Introductory observations Just what is experience? We use the word constantly both in popular speech and in scholarly articles, but seldom does .anyone .suggest its mean-ing. The best synonym I can think of is awareness, Without awareness one cannot experience. A genuine experience is an awareness of something, even if that awareness focuses on one's self. An illusory experience is subjectively real but it has no objective correlative. Experience for human being .implies a passivity, a being affected by the object (tapioca, .coldness). In sensory experiences affectivity (pleasant, unpleasant, cold-hot, smooth-rough, sweet-sour) predominates over knowl-edge, whereas in intellectual experience the cognitive and the affective are closer to,.being equal partners because they more intimately interpenetrate each other. - Although it is obvious on ~a moment's reflection that ,19od cannot be experienced as though He were a material object somehow palpable, some seem to assume that He must be absent if.He does not manifest His pres-ence in human ways. He is God, and we should be .content to allow Him to operate in a divine manner. We may speak of an experience-of-God continuum tl~at runs from reasoned conclusions about Him (the weak. end of the continuum or spec-trum) ~,to the face'to,face vision of Him in. glory (the strong end). In be-tween we can locate the poetic, ,artistic and infused mystical experi~n(es, In this article I shall be concerned chiefly with the last, the divinely originated, mystical encounters with our God revealed in Christ. We need to emphasize that the experience of which we speak here comes from God, not from what we do or feel or will. It is not our idea which we like and and then baptize as being His idea. When God speaks, it is God who speaks. b) What does one experience when he experiences God? ~ Divine ~xperience is not one sole awareness. The reality is rich and is expressed in many ways, each of which brings out an element or emphasis found in the whole. I wiil distinguish and number these elements not to The Spirit Speaks: When and How? / 167 separate them but to clarify the richness. Our usual human way of under-standing is through concepts ,and distinctions. One who is impatient with reasonable distinctions does not understand that he could not utter his sentence of objection except by distinguishing each word of it from every other word. In what follows, however, we must understand that the reality is not a series of chopped up pieces but a flowing whole of diverse strands and richness. 1) PRESENCE-AWARENESS. The experience oLGod includes an aware-ness, a sense of His divine presence. One is aware that God is with him, be-fore him, at his'right hand (Ps 16:8). The Holy Spirit is given to "be with" the disciple of the Lord (Jn 14:15-17), and Jesus' name is Emmanuel, God-with-us (Mt 1:23). He promises to be with His disciples all days, even to the end of the world (Mt 28:20). One who loves possesses an abiding presence of God within himself (I Jn 4:16). We shall see further on how the mystics elaborate on this presence-awareness. 2) ~ SPIRITUAL AWARENESS: SENSE-LIKE BUT NOT SENSE-LIKE. Because God is purest Spirit no .one can attain Him through sense knowledge. Yet Scripture is not reluctant to use sense knowing to bring out the reality and richness of a divine-human encounter. We are to taste and see for ourselves the goodness of God (Ps 23:8). Jeremiah felt an inner touch, a burning in his being (Jer 20:9). Paul speaks of the fragrance of Jesus' offering (Eph 5:2). The Song of Songs refers to the hearing of a voice (Song 2:14). The mystics repeatedly refer to the five senses to explain a deep meeting with God. St.-Augustine,~offers a classical example when in the Conjessions he brilliantly denies that a profound experience of,God is sense-like but then immediately turns around and affirms that there is a sense-likeness in it: ~' Not with doubtful but with sure knowledge do 1 love you, O Lord. By your Word you have transfixed hay heart, and I have loved you . What is it then that I love when I love you?'Not bodily beauty, and not temporal glory, 'not the clear shining light, lovely as it is to our eyes, not the sweet melodies of 0many-moded songs, not the soft smell of flowers and: ointments, and per-fumes, not manna and honey, not limbs made for the body's embrace, not these do I love when I love my God. Yet 1 do love a certain light, a certain voice, a certain odor, a certain food, a certain embrace when I love my God: a light, a voice, an odor, a food, an embrace for the man within me, where his light, which no place can contain, floods into my soul; where he utters words~that time does not speed away; where he sends forth an aroma that no wind can scatter; where he provides food that no eating can lessen; where he so clings that satiety does not sunder us. This is what I love when I love my God.4 St. John of the Cross at one time uses music to suggest how a person can "hear" God in His creation: "Creatures will be for the soul a-harmonious 4Con[essions, Ryan translation, Image edition, Bk 10, c. 6. 168 / Review for Religious, Volume 35, 1976/2 symphony of sublime music surpassing all concerts . She calls this music 'silent' because it is tranquil and quiet . There is in it the sweetness of music and the quietude of silence.'''~ At another~ time the saint describes the experience of God as a fragrance: "Sometimes the fragrance is so abundant that it seems to the soul she is clothed with delight and bathed in inestimable glory.'''~ While both the biblical writers and the. later mystics know well that God is infinitely beyond our realm of sensation, yet they speak in this fashion in order to bring out the reality of the experience of God and the richness of it. 3) NEW K.NOWINO, D.IVINE AND DARK. When one advances into a depth relationship with God he grows in knowing his Lord without knowing how he knows. He perceives this hidden God in darkness (Is 45:15), and yet the Son manifests Himself to the person who loves and keeps His word (Jn 14:21). The Father, says St. Paul, radiates in our minds His own glory, the glory that shines on the face of Jesus (2 Co 4:6). Angela of Foligno observed that the more the supreme Good is seen in darkness the more does one know He surpasses all goods~ Listening to the Spirit, there-fore, does not usually mean listening to a clear message. God does not dictate idle details about one's friends, family, enemies, oneself. The man or woman listening to the Holy Spirit is learning most of all about the three divine persons, darkly beautiful. 4) YEARNING FOR GOD. God often speaks a thirsting for Himself into the human person. It is a thirsting that purifies the recipient for deeper union and love, a thirsting that widens capacity and "bestows humilityi The psalmist seeks and thirsts like parched earth (Ps 63:1) or like the deer panting after the running waters (P~ 42:1-2). Isaiah longs for his Lord and keeps vigil for Him through the night (Is 26:8-9). St. Augustine sighs for God day and night,r All available evidence indicates that the Holy Spirit communicates this divine thirst far more frequently than He does concrete messages that satisfy curious eyes and itching ears. God. has nothing better to say than Himself. That is why in the incarnation the Father spoke His Word into the world of human flesh. When one listens to the Father, he hears mostly the Son. 5) PEACE AND COMFORTING. Our God is a healing God, a God who l(~ves and therefore comforts us in~ all our sorrows (2 Co 1:3-4), a God who gives a peace that surpasses understanding (Ph 4:7), a G~)d who re-freshes the wearied soul and gives rest (Jr 31 ~25-26; Mt 11:28). While our own selfishness begets conflict and factions (Ga 5:19-21), what the Spirit r'Spiritual .Canticle, Stanzas 14-15, #25; I am using here The Collected Works o[ St, John o] the Cross, translated by Kieran Kavan~augh, O.C;D. and Otilio Rodriguez, O.C.D., New York, 1964, p. 472. ~lbid., Stanza 17, #7; p. 480. rConfessions, Bk 7, c. 10. The Spirit Speaks." When and How? / 169 brings.is very different: love, peace, harmony. (Ga 5:22). The Hebrew shalom was not a mere absence of conflict. It implied a fullness, a rich integrity, something akin to our word, prosperity. God speaks peace, shalom, to his people. His word makes individuals and communities inte-gral, whole, loving. 6) INPOURED LOVE. The divine gift par excellence is love: "the love of God is poured into our hearts by the Holy Spirit who has been given to us." (Rm 5:5) Those who divide the community into factions, who disregard their leaders are not listening to the Spirit who brings unity (1 Co 12:12-13; Ep 4:3-6) and an obedience to those overseers whom he Himself has placed to rule the Church of God (Ac 20:28). This love is a sign of the genuine disciple, one who loves as the Lord Himself loves (Jn 13:34-35). The Spirit speaks love (Ga 5:22). 7) UNION-POSSESSION-BURNING. This love of the Holy Spirit centers especially.on the three divine persons and it grows to a point where it can overwhelm one (2 Co 5: 14). It.can make one's heart.burn: "there seemed-to be a fire burning in my heart, imprisoned in my bones," said Jeremiah. "The effort to restrain it wearied me, I could not bear it." (Jr 20:9) The disciples on the road to Emmaus felt this burning as they listened to the word of the risen Kyrios (Lk 24:32), and the mystics commonly speak of it. Augustine~could write of being set. on fire for God by the psalms and of burning to repeat them.s Further on he declared that love was his gravity: "By your gift we are enkindled, and we are borne upwards. We glow with inward fire, and we go on. We asc(nd steps within the heart, and we sing a gradual psalm. By Your fire, by. Your good fire, we glow with inward fire:'''~ St. John of the Cross could speak simply of the perfect "who burn gently in God.''1" Once again we emphasize that when God speaks it is not a narration of idle details that satisfy curious expectations. God mostly speaks love. ~ 8) BEAUTY OF GOD AND JOY IN HIM. The experience of God is a growing perception of His goodness and beauty. We are to taste and see for ourselves how good He is (Ps 34:8). The one thing, the top-priority sought by the psalmist is to°dwell in the Lord's house all the days Of his life and thus to "gaze on the beauty of the Lord" (Ps 27:4). Augustine puts this in his own inimitable language: "All things are beautiful because You made them, but You who made all things are inexpressibly more beautiful . Too late have I loved You, O Beauty so ancient and so new, too late have I loved You!TM Our joy is to become so deep that it is radiant (Ps 34:5), complete (Jn 15:11), unending (Jn 16:22),.always and every- 81bid., Bk 9, c. 4. '°1bid., Bk 13, c. 9. 1°Dark Night of the Soul, Bk 2, c. 20, :~4; p. 337. 11Confessions, Bk 13, c. 20 and Bk 10, c. 27. 170 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/2 where (Ph 4:4), beyond description (I P 1:8). This, too, the Bishop of Hippo heard from the indwelling Lord: ",Sometimes You admit me," he said, "in my innermost being into a most extraordinary affection, mounting within me to an indescribable delight, If this is perfected in me, it will be something, I know not what, that will not belong to this slife.''r-' This'is what the Lord God especially speaks, and this is what they hear who deeply listen. 9) POWER, STRENGTH, FREEDOM. God speaks 'not only words but power itself.-It would seem correct to say that worded communications from Him are~comparatively rare, while bestowals of power and freedom . are comm.on, common that is to people who are mature in prayer. Paul came to the Corinthians not with human philosophy but with the power of God (1 Co 2:5). He explains that God,s kingdom.does not consist only of words--it~is power (1 Co 4:20). The apostle himself experiences "an overwhelming power" from the Father (2 Co 4:7). All he wants to know is Christ and the power of His resurrection (Ph 3:10). This power is a liberating dynamism: "Where the Spirit of the Lord is there is freedom" (2 Co 3:|7). c) Implications of the biblical account. Perhaps the most striking note of this New Testament picture of how God speaks is that He does not ordinarily speak specifics. It is true that public persons or those closely related to them do occasionally receive particularized directions. This is true, for example, of Peter (Ac 10:9-16), Cornelius (Ac 1'0:3-6), the "Council of Jerusalem" (Ac 15:28), Paul (Ac 9:3-6: Ga 2:2; 2 Co 12:8-9), Ananias (Ac 9:10-16). In the Christic economy when specific divine messages are given, they must be submitted to human authorities. This has long been the practice of spiritual directors and it is rooted in revelation itself. Even St~ Paul sought the .approval of the "leading men" in Jerusalem for the mission he had received directly from the risen Jesus (Ga 2:2, 6, 10). The New Testament gives no. com-fort to visionaries who deem themselves exempt from any structural guidance. What God usually does speak to the ordinary person is inner trans-formation. He speaks goodness in a general manner. He speaks his pres-ence ~. spiritual awareness., divine-dark knowing of himself., yearn-ing for his presence . . . peace and comfort . . , inpoured love . . . union-possession- burning., beauty and joy . . . power and freedom. This may come as a ,surprise to devotees of private revelations~ but it does not surprise experienced spiritual directors. Those who listen to God most genuinely are not those who believe they have received many detailed messages, but rather those whose minds have been fillhd with everything true, noble, good, pure, virtuous, worthy of praise (Ph 4:8). r"Ibid,, Bk 10, c. 40. The Spirit Speaks: When and How? / 171 Further Development, s: St. ~Iohn of the Cross While Sacred Scripture is rich in its variegated ways of dealing with the experience of God, it does leave, us with the need to unfold the richness further. We ,may therefore ask several qi~estions. Does the Holy Spirit speak in varying degrees of intensity? If so, what are they like? Does He add His own peculiar light to our human reasonings and searchings? If so, how does this happen? Can we know when it .happens? Is it possible to be mistaken regarding a genuine communication from ,13od? Were the saints ever mistaken? What does one do if he thinks (or is even convinced) that God has enlightened him in some specific way? In looking through a considerfible amount of the literature produced on these questions rI can think of no one more competent to respond to our questions than St. John of the Cross. That this Carmelite saint experienced the deepest, most magnificent encounters with the ,living God is beyond debate. If anyone~ has known what knowledge through infused love is all about, John has. If anyone has been capable of analyzing and synthesizing the sundry, elements in the experience of God:in all their varieties and de-grees, John has. If any mere man or woman has listened to the Spirit, John has. We shall, therefore, take this theologian of mysticism as our guide. In an area in which the Spirit-structure tension in the Church occupies center stage we need a master. "' Types of Communication God does not speak to,man as man speaks to man. He speaks as God; and consequently we should be wary Of our preconceived ideas as to how the communication ought to be carried: off. Moreover, He does not speak in one way only. Nor should we assume that His speaking is always unmis-takable: The indwelling God leads us into all truth (Jn 14:26; 16:13) in diverse ways and degrees. St. John.~of the Cross discusses these ways and degrees under the caption of what he calls supernatural locutions.13 It seems to me that this expression, "supernatural ,locution," is equivalent to what we mean in saying that the Holy Spirit speaks to us. John's'"locution" is a type of "apprehension," a knowing.It is a type that is "produced in the souls of spiritual persons without the use of :the bodily senses as means."14~,These are not sensory orqmaginary visions. They are "produced," that is, received from God. One does not originate the locution. God speaks and enlightens. Man receives. The saint reduces the many ways in which God speaks to three types. There are, in order of ascending value (and using the saint's terminology), a.~See Ascent o] Mt Carmel, Bk 2, cc. 28-31. 141bid., c. 28; p. 203. 172 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/2 successive locutions, formal locutions and substantial locutions. I will speak of them in my own language as well as John's. a) Assisting enlightenment (successive locutions). This .first type of divine speaking always occurs when one is "recollected and attentively absorbed" in some thought process. The.,enlightenment al-ways concerns the subject on which one is meditating?~' During this time, says John, the person is united with the truth and with 'the Holy Spirit who is in every truth, and yet he is thinking, reasoning in the usual, human man-ner. The Spirit aids him in forming his concepts and judgments. There is so great a clarity and ease in this activity thatqt seems another is teaching him, as indeed is the case. In this communion with :the. indwelling Spirit about a particular matter the person goes on to "form interiorly and suc-cessively other truths.''1' John supposes that this enlightenment occurs dur-ing prayer, that is, while one "is '!recollected" and "communing with the. divine Spirit?' It seems, therefore, that this type of speaking does not usually occur in dialogue sessions but in the midst of prayerful communion. The recipient of this assisting enlightenment "is unable to believe" that it originates with himself, but he has the awareness that it derives from another. And yet the knowledge received (it cannot be. attained by personal industry) is so delicate that the natural intellect by its own activity "easily disturbs and undoes" it.lr This point is important. Even when God does speak in this manner, he does not exclude our human activities with all their limitations, preconceptions, biases, errors. Even when he enlightens, he' permits men and women to be what they as a matter of fact are, fallen men and women--redeemed, yes, but still wounded and. deficient. We may conclude that this assisting enlightenment is not merely human reason proceeding under its own steam and deriving from the Holy Spirit only in the sense that anything true and good derives from him. The divine speaking is something over and above the gift ,of native intelligence, even though in the successive locution lit works closely with that intelligence, b) Independent-ideational speaking (formal locutions). Whereas the assisting enlightment occurs only when one. is prayerfully meditative, this divine speaking can happen at any time. In the first the locution accompanies human activity, while in the second it is uttered in-dependently of what the recipient is doing: "They are received as though one person were speaking to another.'''8 One may receive this locution while he is working, conversing; playing or praying. "Sometimes these words are very explicit and at other times not. They are like ideas spoken to the l~'lbid;, c. 30, #1; p. 208. ae'lbid., c. 29, #1; p. 204. ~rlbid., c. 32, #4; p. 213. aSlbid,, c. 30, #2; p. 208. The Spirit Speaks." When and How? / 173 spirit. At times only one word is spoken, and then again more than one; . . .-19 Although the recipient is clearly aware that this locution comes from another and thus has no reasonable doubt abou~ the otherness of origin, he can only too easily be deceived aSotO who this other is. It may be God or it may be the devil,o-" and the discernment is not always easy. Of this I shall speak later. c) Dynamic-effective speaking (substantial locution). It is now well known that the Hebrew idea of word, dabar, was not a mere intellectual representation of reality but a dynamic power. Just as the rain and snows come down from the heavens and produce food, so God's word comes down and achieves its effects (Is 55:10-11)~ The divine ~ord acts; it does things. It is like fire and a hammer that sunders rocks (Jr ,23:29). It is active, alive; it judges, divides and cuts like a two-edged sword (Heb 4: 12). Yahweh's word alone caused all creation to be (Gn 1 and 2). Jesus' words are spirit and life (Jn 6:63). This dynamic-effective speaking (substantial locution) is not merely an assisting enlightenment (the first manner) nor an ideational speaking (~the second manner). It is a powerful producing-in-the-soul of what it says. St. John of the Cross calls this communication substantial because it im-presses its meaning in the very substance of the recipient's being. The word does what it says. "For example," notes the saint, "if our Lord should say formally to the soul: 'Be good,'oit would immediately be substantially good; or if He should say: 'Love Me,' it would:at once have and experience. within itself the substance of the love of God; or if He should say to a soul in great fear: 'Do not fear,, it would without delay feel ample fortitude and tranquillity.''zx These dynamic~effective communications are the most excellent for several .reasons. One is that deceit, is impossible, since the devil cannot pro-duce this .goodness within one. Another is that these locutions impart "incomparable blessings" of life and goodness to the person who receives them. There is consequently nothing to fear or to reject. The recipient need do nothing about them "because God never grants them for that purpose, but He bestows them in order to accomplish Himself what they express.'':2 Divine Message and Human Fallibility We approach now a problem whose solution is anything but apparent. As a matter of fact it appears on the surface that the union of two factual 191bid. o-°ibid., c. 30, #3-5. °-1Ibid., c. 31, #1; p. 210. °'°'Ibid., c. 31, #2; p. 210. 174 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/2 premises is impossible. Fact number one: God does speak to certain men and women and He speaks with unfailing truth. Fact number two: these same men and women are often (not just rarely) mistaken in what they hear or think they hear or in what ihey conclude from what they hear, We immediately wonder what the sense of fact number one would' be, given the existence of fact number two. Why would or should God speak to people who often are mistaken in what they hear? One answer to this question is obvious on a momentrs reflection. A fruitful source of error in this area is a simple mistaking of the source of the locution. People often think they are listening to the Spirit when lie is .not speaking at all--or at least He is not saying what they think He is saying. We may not hold God responsible for what He did not say. Yet a problem remains: even when God does speak, the r.ecipient may either not hear or distort what~ he did hear or conclude invalidly from it. Why, then, should God speak when this may be the likely result? One response is identical to what we would say about any human speaking to a fellow human: failure to hear or distortion of the statement or invalid conclusion are always possible. Anyone who has lectured knows this from personal experience. It is remarkable how many people do not hear what you have said (or read what you have written). Yet we do not for that reason cease :speaking or writing. God .speaks to His people for the same reason we do: many do hear, and hear rightly. A lecturer or writer admit-_ tedly takes risks in sharing his thoughts publicly. He knows some will miss the message, while others wittingly or unwittingly will twist it. Yet he also knows that others will hear rightly. God loves us so much that He 'al-lows some to distort His word so that He may communicate intimately with those who will not. There are two reasons according to St. John of the Cross why a divine communication, even when perfectly authentic, can be the occasion for the recipient to be misled regarding it. The first reason is our crude way of understanding the divine mind. Explaining why not all revelations turn out as we expect them to turn out, that is, in their literal sense, the saint notes one reason to be that "since God is immense and profound, He usually embodies in His prophecies, locutions, and revelations other ways, con-cepts and ideas remarkably different from the meaning we generally find in them. And the surer and more truthful they are, the less they seem so to us."'-'~ The saint goes on to illustrate our usual "extremely literal method" with biblical examples. In making His covenant with Abram the Lord God promised that he would give the patriarch a new land. The latter understood this literally of his own personal possession and inquired what the sign of it would be (Gn 15:7-8). However, Abram died before .his possessing the land and "~.~lbid., c. 19, #1; p. 163. The Spirit Speaks: When and How? / 175 so one might have supposed' the divine promise mistaken. But it is the supposition that was mistaken .because it was based on a literal under-standing. Abram was given this land in his descendants as was explained a few verses further on (vv. 18-19). When God's people read that the Messiah was to rule from sea to sea, that His foes would bow down before him and lick the dust of the earth (Ps 72:8-9), they had a true prophecy but they misunderstood His rule to be temporal, whereas it was inner and eternal. So also the disciples on the road to Emmaus were reproved by the risen Lord for being dull and slow in failing to understand what the prophets had announced concerning the Messiah (Lk 24:25). St. John of the Cross concludes~ that "evidently, then, ~even though the words and revelations be from God, we cannot find assurance in them, since in our understanding of. them we can easily be deluded, and extremely so.''24 If this could happen in biblical times with genuine divine communications, it surely can happen in our times. The Carmelite points out that in divine words "God always refers to the more important and profitable meaning,'''5 whereas we tend to see in those same words something less important,' something perhaps merely temporal, even trivial or selfish. This is why the man of the flesh, to use Pauline terminology, the worldly man, cannot (not simply, does not) understand the things of God.(1 Co 2:14). He is too materialistic, too crass, too literal to grasp the divine meaning. One must undergo a con-version, get rid of his worldliness, says Paul, in order to come to know the perfect will of God (Rm 12:2). The second reason why an authentic divine communication can be mis-applied by the recipient is that God's judgment may be~conditional, and that without the knowledge of the human person. God's word or promise may so depend on some contingent event that when that event does or does not occur, so also the divine degree does or does not take~ effect. John cites Jonah's proclamation that Nineveh shall be destroyed in forty days (Jon 3:4). Yet the city was not destroyed because the people repented and did penance: The cause of the decree, human sin, was removed by penitence and so was the decree itself. They especially who do not understand the unfathomable abysses of the divine mind easily suppose they do understand. John of the Cross, who surely experienced God as few others have, supposed otherwise: "Be-lieve me," he concluded, "a person cannot completely grasp the meaning of God's locutions and deeds, nor can he determine this by appearances without extreme error and bewilderment.~''z5 Z4lbid., c. 19, #10; p. 167. God does not necessarily prevent even a genuine mystic from being mistaken in his understanding of an authentic communication. z~Ibid., c. 19, # 12; p. 168. ~ Z~lbid., c. 20, #6; p. 171. 176 / Review for Religious, Volume 35, 1976/2 Assisting Enlightenment and Human Fallibility What we have thus far considered regarding the divine message and human fallibility St. John of the Cross applies to visions as well as to locu-tions. We may now turn our attention specifically to what he calls suc-cessive locutions and I have termed God's assisting enlightenments. When the Holy Spirit aids us in prayerful pondering, is it likely that we can be mistaken in our conclusions? In itself the light of the Spirit can never be mistaken. He who is the tyuth can do nothing but illumine with the truth. However, the light He bestows is often so delicate and lofty that it leaves considerable room for human activity. And when we have room for human activity, we have room for error--unless there be a special divine intervention as is the case with the charism of infallibility given to the Church herself. The possibility of error is present especially in what we deduce and conclude from the divine enlightenment. The light of the Holy Spirit, says John, "is often so delicate and spiritual that the intellect does not succeed in ~being completely in-formed by it; and it is the intellect that of its own power, as we stated, forms the propositions. Consequently the statements are often false, or only apparent, or defective.'':~ This is important. Many of us seem to assume that "listening to the SpirW' means listening to neat, specific conclusions that God somehow inserts into the mind. And we further assume that if we have .an idea we think good it must be He who inserted it. Not so. That sort of neat "formu-lation- insertion" I would call an extraordinary private revelation, not a usual assisting enlightenment. In the latter case it is we who draw the conclusion, and it may be true or untrue, wise or unwise, loving or unloving. History bears out the solidity of this analysis. All through the ages there have been men and women who have expressed a profound conviction that their messages, even the most bizarre and untenable messages, have been spoken by God Himself. They seem not to suspect that they have them-selves contributed anything to their conclusions. John was able to write of this problem in terms that may startle us by their relevance: "I greatly fear what is happening in these times of ours: If any soul whatever after a bit. of meditation has in its recollection one of these locutions (succes-sive), it will immediately baptize all as coming from God and with such a supposition say, 'God told me,' 'God answered me.' Yet this is not so, but, as we pointed out, these persons themselves are more often the origin of their locution.''-~ P. de Letter is of the same mind. Remarking that even genuine charismatics can add human particulars of time and place to an authentic divine message, he notes that "they themselves are generally ~-Tlbid., c. 29, #3; p. 204. '-'Slbid., c. 29, #4; p. 204. The Spirit Speaks." When and How? / 177 unable to make a distinction between the divine and human elements."~"' A. Poulain and K. Rahner speak of the commonness of,human errors added to divine communications.:'" At this point one may ask how our intellect may be more completely informed by the light of God and thus be less subject to its proclivity to adulterate the delicate divine light with its own human shortsightedness. The answer is gospel goodness in general and the light of deep ., faith in particular. According to St. Paul the only way to attain to God's mind and know His perfect will is to put aside worldliness and.undergo conversion (Rm 12:2). The judgment of St. John of the Cross is the same: "The purer and.more refined a soul is in faith, the more infused .charity it possesses, and the more charity it has the more'the Holy Spirit illumines it and com-municates His gifts, because charity is the means by which they are com-municated,'''~' We see the truth of this in everyday life. Simple people of much love far surpass unloving intellectuals in basic wisdom. Diverse Origins of "Inner Lighls" There is yet another aspect to our problem, namely the origin of the enlightenment. Thus far we have supposed the light to come from God. Our theology of discernment of spirits speaks in the plural: spirits. St. John is of like mind. "Manifestly, then, these successive locutions can originate in the intellect from any of three causes: the divine Spirit, Who moves and illumines the intellect; the natural light of the intellect; and the devil who can speak to it through suggestion.":"-' While ~most people are willing to grant that .their own biases and preferences may suggest ideas to their minds, a goodly number may me~ely smile at the suggestion that the devil may be their origin. Even though this is not the place to adduce the ample biblical and magisterial evidences for diabolical reality and activity, it may be useful to point out that we do not pick and choose among, the data of divine revelation. Sound exegesis by all means. But nonetheless one accepts the whole Christ message or he shows that his criterion of acceptance or not is his own judgment rather than the divine word. After a review of biblical evidences, the Scripture scholar, Leopold Sabourin, concludes that "whoever reads"the New Testament with-out pr.econceptions or myth phobia should easily agree" that there is clear evidence of the existence of a personal hostile power and that this is an essential element in New Testament teaching. Sabourin also refers to e:,p. de Letter, New Catho'lic Encyclopedia, 12:446-447. .~oSee their works~ respectively Graces o[ Interior Prayer and Visions attd Prophecies. I also have touched on this point in "The Problematics of Discernment," Spiritual Li[e, Summer, 1974, pp. 135-147. .~lSt. John of the Cross, Ascent o] Mt Carmel, Bk 2, c. 29, #6; p. 205. .~-lbid., c. 29, :~ 11; p; 206. Review for Religious, Volume 35, 1976/2 Lyonnet's judgment regarding St. Paul's assertions on the devil: "To con-clude from these passages that Satan is for the Apostle a pure personifica-tion of the forces of evil would be to contradict as a whole the biblical and Pauline doctrine.''33 Our best theologians'write in the same vein. "The existence of angels," observes Karl Rahner, "cannot be disputed in view of the conciliar declarations (D 428, 1783). Consequently it will be firmly maintained that the existence of angels and demons is affirmed in Scripture and not merely assumed as a hypothesis which we could drop today.''34 If inner enlightenment may originate in other than divine sources, the question of discernment immediately arises. Can we know in a trustworthy manner the origin of our inner lights? Does the Spirit make Himself known? How do we detect Him? Whaf would be the signs of His activity as dis-tingnished from diabolical ,activity? Scripture, and especially the New Testa-ment, says so much about these questions that a mere article could not be adequate to report it all. Even less can a part of this article suffice. I may touch, however, only briefly on a number of considerations. Testing of the Spirits Jesus Himself leads the way to the later New Testament insistence that the spirits must be tested by the structural elements in the Chui'ch. The signal importance of this testing occurs, for example, in His prayer for Simon Peter. Significantly, this prayer centers on disturbances among the faithful caused by Satan. And the disturbances occur in the area of faith commit-ment. Jesus prays that after Peter's conversion he will strengthen his brothers and keep them firm despite satanic influences: "Simon, Simon! Remember that Satan has asked for you, to sift you all like wheat. But have prayed for you that your faith may n~ver fail. You in turn must strengthen your brothers" (Lk 22:31-32 NAB).3~ Jesus' prayer is always efficacious: what he prays for happens. Thus Peter's service in the Church is an effective faith service. While the devil does his best to disturb and dis-rupt, Peter tests him, unmasks him, overcomes him, protects the brothers and sisters in: their commitment to the Lord. It is obvious that Peter can confirm and strengthen in the faith only those who accept and listen to him. God forces no one. This is why St. Ignatius of Loyola, a leading figure in the history of discernment practice, considered the Successor of Peter the first tester of spirits and thus the last word on earth. This is why Ignatius (and other saints are of like mind) did not consider an important ~aLeopold Sabourin, "The Miracles of Jesus (II). Jesus and the Evil Powers," Biblical Theology Bulletin, June, 1974, p. 153. 34"Angels," Sacramentum Mundi, I : 32. aSSee Raymond E. Brownl Karl P. Donfried and John Reumann, editors, Peter in the New Testament, pp. 119-125. The Spirit Speaks." When and How? / 179 discernment process c.omplete until the Holy Father had approved the communal decision Ignatius and his companions had reached. St. Paul himself who received a direct commission from the risen Jesus nonetheless submitted his work to "the leading men" in Jerusalem to obtain their approval (Ga 2:2). Outer testing of the inner spirits is absolutely crucial if authentic enlight-enment is to be kept free of illuminist counterfeits and their bizarre conse-quences. o~Whatever else may be said about the illuminist, there is no doubt that no one can correct him. He is so sure of his privileged access to the mind of God that no other, not even Peter, can successfully point out to him that he is straying. Yet the very Spirit who speaks in our inner hearts has Himself established the outer structure to test the inner message. "Keep watch over yourselves," said Paul to the overseer-bishops of Ephesus, "and over the whole flock the Holy Spirit has given you to guard.' Shepherd the Church of God . . ." (Ac-20:28). The saints instinctively live this principle. St. Teresa of Avila, for example, a woman clearly led by the Spirit, strongly desired that, her works be examined and corrected and approved. Reaction Patterns It is interesting to observe the widely differing reactions people preseiat to the allegations that the Holy Spirit has spoken to someone or that He commonly enlightens from.within. We can speak of a reaction spectrum. At one end of it are those who ridicule the whole idea. They may be theists;~' but they just do not accept that God says anything particular to anyone. The objectivity of divine revelation is enough for them (though they may forget that the prophets and apostles had subjective experiences of God), .and so they look upon the charismatic renewal as a subjective enthusiasm. These people would probably pass up the present article because the title of-it indicates that the Holy Spirit does speak to men and women today. At the other end of the spectrum are those who readily believe that the Holy Spirit speaks. The~e people believe that ,He speaks often and that it is easy. to be in touch with Him. They tend to be uncritical and so are easily persuaded that their thoughts and desires and aspirations derive from God Himself. They would probably be attracted b3~ the title of this article but would tend to reject what I have said about the errors and illusions that abound in much of alleged "listening to God." Thus our subject is a touchy one. The Church's position lies somewhere in the midst of the two extremes of nothing or all. There are valid experi-ences of God and they are to be valued. He does enlighten those who are purified sufficiently to perceive His light. But there are also illusory experi-ences that are nothing more than unfounded persuasions. These can be found among people who are convinced that God is speaking to them, when as a matter of fact nothing of the sort is happening. Review for Religious, Volume 35, 1976/2 Practical Suggestions Supposing then that they are sons of God who are led by the Spirit of God (Rm 8:14), and yet that all things are to, be tested (1 Th 5:19-22), we may ask what this biblical position requires in everyday life. How does one tread the path of the golden mean between two extremes? 1 ) Hard-nosed evidence. While we should value the divine interven-tions in everyday life, we should not suppose them unless the biblical con-ditions are fulfilled. We do not presume, for example, that a proud or vain person is listening to the Spirit. Jesus has made it clear that the Father does not reveal His mysteries to the conceited but only to the little ones (Lk 10:21). A competent spiritual director looks for gospel holiness before he accepts that his client is "listening to the Spirit." This is why for centuries knowledgeable priests have discounted alleged divine phenomena in proud or disobedient people. Those who reject the outer word cannot be hearing the inner word. God does not contradict Himself. 2) No finite idea expresses God adequately and "thus we ought not to cling to it. One of the most valuable contributions offered by St. John of the Cross to this question of listening to God's voice can be missed even in a careful study of his work. It is that the most important element in most di-vine communications is not the clear idea, the detailed course of action to be followed. It is the love-penetrated touch of the divine in dark faith, a touch that itself communicates humility, love, prayer, strength, peace, joy. The most valuable gift God can communiqate to anyone is Himself, and He is no thing, no idea, no pattern of action. The Love Who is God is poured out0into our hearts by the Holy Spirit Who is given to us (Rm 5:5). Once we understand this we have gone a long way in understanding .John's severity in making so little of locutions and visions. The~saint recommends that the recipient of divine communications pay little attention to them, because if he gets attached to them, he feeds on them rather than on God.36 One likewise' begins to consider himself especially favored by God and,to look down on others who, in his opinion, do not enjoy this same enlighten-ing by the Spirit. The attachment can become a stubborn refusal to listen to anyone who may disagree because "I am listening to God." Clinging .to a finite communication, this person fails "to soar to the heights of dark faith.''3~ And in pilgrimage it is only in faith that we journey to the father-land (Heb 11"13-16). 3) Little attention is to be given to inner communications. I suspect that many people are surprised if not shocked at the attitude St. John of .~6The total renunciation demanded by Jesus is applicable here: "Unless a man re-nounce all he possesses he cannot be My disciple." (Lk 14".33) Even an idea about God is not God. '~rSt. John of the Cross, Ascent o] Mt Carmel, Bk 2, c. 18, #2; p. 160. The Spirit Speaks: When and How? / 181 the Cross takes toward inner enlightenments. He repeatedly advises the recipient to pay little attention, even no attention to them. The saint is so strong on this point that unless one is well acquainted with his whole teaching and life, he might conclude that John scarcely believed that God does communicate with the human person. Yet the saint, deeply believed in this .communication and in his own person enjoyed the very loftiest favors. Because his teaching is surprising to many of us, it may be well to offer here"a summation of it. We may first see two examples typical of the saint's statements of rejection, and then we will consider several reasons for the advice. Speaking of imaginative visions or "other supernatural communi-cations" received by the senses and independent of one's free will, John asserts 'q affirm that at whatever time or season (in the state of perfection or one less perfect) an individual must not desire to give them admittance, even though they.come from.God.''~s Later on in the same work as he discusses successive locutions the saint again says that "we should pay no heed to them, but be . . . content with knowing the mysteries and truths in~- the simplicity and verity~ with which the Church proposes them.'':''' This advice admittedly runs counter to what most of us. would expect. We would think that if God speaks,, we should pay attention, close atten-~ tion. We would consider a rejection of.the communication an insult to the speaker of it. Why is ~John (and other saints) of this mind? The first reason is the likelihood of illusion, deception. St. John o[ the Cross would surely agree that when God speaks, we listen carefully. This is precisely why the saint clings so tenaciously to Scripture and the teaching Church. Public revelation is sure and free from illusion and so is the teach-ing of the divinely commissioned Church, pillar of truth (l Tm 3:15). Private revelation is often not sure, that is, what is commonly thought to be revealed by God is not revealed at all. St. Paul was of this mind. He told the Galatians in no uncertain terms that even if .an.angel from heaven were to teach them something contrary to what they learned from human lips, they were to reject it (Ga 1:6-9). In other words, Paul was saying that such private "~revelation" was not revelation from God at all. When one pays much attention to "communications" he leaves the sure path of faith for the unsure path of "what 1 heard, what I received, what I see." History tells a 10ng and sad tale of the illusions that abound in this second path. Secondly, p,eop.le who are much concerned with God speaking within tend to neglect clear duties without. "On judgment day," says our Carmelite guide, "God will punish the faults and sins of many with whom He com-muned familiarly here below and to whom He imparted much light and 3Slbid., c. 17, #7; p. 158.- :~.~lbid., c. 29, -#:12; p. 207. Review for Religious, Volume 35, 1976/2 power. For they neglected their obligations and trusted in their converse with Him.''.'° John then illustrates his idea with. the words of Jesus, "When that day comes, many will plead with Me, 'Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in Your name? Have we not exorcised demons by its power? Did we not do many miracles in Your name as well?' Then I will declare to them solemnly, 'I never knew you. Out of my sight, you evildoers!' " (Mt 7:22~23). Doing the Father's will (Mt 7:21) is more important than receiving special .favors from God. St. Paul repeats this truth when he tells the Corinthians that their most marvelous charisms (including the gifts of healing, miracles, tongues) are of,no value without love (1 Co 13:1-3). The Carmelite explains how spiritual directors shouldguide people in faith, not in supposed special communications. These directors "should explain how one act done in charity is more precious in God's sight than all the visions and communications possible--since they imply n~ither m~rit nor demerit--and how many who have not received these experiences are in-comparably .more advanced than others who have had many.''~1 This last remark is both sobering and comforting. A third reason is a core reason. I have said above that the deepest value in a. divine communication does not lie in clear concepts or blueprints for future action. It lies in a deeper drinking of the divine, a drinking that is general, dark, non-ceptual, love-immersed. If a person pays much atten-tion to the clear words or ideas he has "heard" at prayer, he is absorbed in finite particulars rather than with the God who ,is infinitely beyond even the best concept. In pilgrimage we' journey to God best not in clear ideas but .in dark faith; Paying little attention to "communications" is wise, fourthly, because a subtle vanity easily seeps into persons preoccupied with "listening to the Spirit" in a self-conscious way. Like the pharisee in the parabl.e (Lk 18: 9-14) they may begin to consider themselves unlike the rest of men. Need-less to say, this attitude is not one conducive to growth in love.'~ Fifthly, giving attention to inner communications carries with it the need to discern their origin, whether they come from God, the' devil, or' one's own unrealized desires.":' While the work of discernment is. advisable for important matters, one can hardly seek out a spiritual, guide and/or engage in long prayerful study for routine everyday affairs. If one is an avid "listener to messages,", the alternatives are a preoccupation with analysis or ¯ ~Olbid., c. 22, #!5; p. 185. ~'lbid., c. 22, # 19; p. 187. ~ '~-°"They think something e~traordinary has occurred and that God his spoken, whereas in reality little more than nothing will have happened, or nothing at all, or even less than nothing. If an experience fails to engender humility, charity, mortification, holy simplicity, and silence, etc., of what value is it?" Ibid., c. 29, .#5; pp. 204-205; "albid., c. 17, #7; p. 158. ' The Spirit Speaks: When and How? an unfounded assumption that "it all comes from the Lord." Even a saint does not assume the latter. Finally, the recipient of an.authentic communication from God does not need to pay attention to it in order to derive its benefits. This many people do not realize. God produces the good effects of His communication with-out the recipient being able to prevent it. "A person," says John, "cannot hinder the goods God desires to impart, nor in fact does he do so, except by some imperfection or possessiveness.''44 By renouncing all divine communications° (and John includes visions, locutions, fragrances, pleasures, words) "a. person takes from these apprehensions only what God wants him*to take, that is, the spirit of devotion, since God gives them for no other principal reason.''4'~ The same is true of the lesser assisting enlightenment.4~ Paying little attention to inner enlightenments' is for all these reasons a sensible reaction that combines a vivid faith in the indwelling Trinity with a sober refusal to succumb to a credulous illuminism. These reasons also explain the remaining bits of practical advice. 4) Use of reason as a source ~of light. God expects us to use ordinary means~ to achieve ordinary ends. If I break a leg, he expects me to get it set by a doctor. I may pray for divine healing but not at the expense of refusing ordinary medical help. We should surely pray for divine enlightenment but not at the expense of refusing to study and consult. Where .human reason is sufficient to solve problems "usually God does not manifest such matters through visions, revelations, and locutions, because He is ever desirous that man insofar as possible take advantage of his own reasoning powers. All matters must be regulated by reason save those of faith, which though not contrary to reason transcend it.''47 This is a mystic with his feet on planet earth. 5) A divine Message needs human approval. This advice is shocking. It seems the reversal of the truth: a human message needs divine approval. A distinction is in order. When the divine message° is public, it needs no approval other than that~ required by Christ Himself. That is, it needs the acceptance of no merely human court. St. Paul explicitly declared that it made not the slightest difference to him whether any human tribunal found him worthy or not (1 Co 4:3). Yet the same apostle submits his divinely received commission from the risen Lord to the authorities in Jerusalem (Ga 2:2, 6, 10). All the more when a divine message is a private revelation must it be approved by due authority. 441bid. "t51bid., c, 17, #9; p. 159. 46"The profit produced by a successive locution will not be received from focusing one's attention on it. Through such behavior a person instead would be driving away the locution." Ibid., c. 29, #7; p. 205. ~ ~ 4"rlbid., c. 22, #13; p. 184. Review for Religious, Volume 35, 1976/2 The New Testament.consistently requires supposedly divine communi-cations to be submitted to the approval of the Lord's representatives. This we already find in the earliest,New Testament document. The gifts of the Spirit are not to be suppressed but they are to be tested (1 Th 5:1.9-22). They who want to hear Jesus must be prepared to hear~His representatives; otherwise they are rejecting Him (Lk 10:16; Jn 13:20). The heretics at the close of the first century are known to be false prophets because they refuse to listen to the leaders of the ekklesia ( 1 Jn 4: 1, 6). St. John of the Cross, therefore, is asking no more than the New Testa-ment when he teaches that one ought not to do what a locution tells him un-less he receives a human approval. The saint does not tire of insisting on this biblical point: "We must be guided humanly and visibly in all by the law of Christ the man and that of His Church and of His ministers. This is the method .of remedying our spiritual ignorances and weaknesses. One should disbelieve anything coming in a supernatural way, and believe only the teaching of Christ, the man,~as I say, and of His ministers who are men . (In the Old Testament) the people were to believe that God spoke to them through the mouth of these prophets and priests and not through their own opinion.'''s John supports his teaching from St. Paul who demanded that the Galatians set aside whatever they think an angel from heaven might say in favor of what human teachers have taught (Ga 1:6-9). In tile. work of spiritual direction I consistently find that persons who give every sign of genuine prayer development and authentic holiness in-stinctively follow this practice, The Holy Spirit gives them the inner in-clination, even a felt need to submit the apparently divine communication to a priest in whom they can confide.4'~ This inclination may be taken as a sign of a genuine communication from God, whereas its absence suggests otherwise?° This advice is, of course, consistent with all else we h~ve studied above. Christ did not establish an angelism, an invisible Church. He takes our "bodyliness". seriously. He operates now both immediately through His Holy Spirit working invisibly and mediately through His human representatives ¯ ~Slbid., c. 22, #7, 8; pp. 181-182. ~.'~"God is so content that the rule and direction of man be ihrough other men, and that a person be governed by natural reason, that He definitely does not want us to bestow entire credence upon His supernatural communications, nor be confirmed in their strength and security until they pass through this human channel of the mouth of man. As often as He reveals something to a person, He confers upon his soul a kind of inclination to manifest this to the appropriate person." Ibid., c. 22, #9; p. 1.82. .~0The saint connects this'trait with humility: "This is the trait of a humble person: he does not dare deal with God independently, nor can he be completely~ satisfied without human counsel and direction." Ibid., c. 22, :~11; p. 183. The Spirit Speaks: When and How? / 1:85 worki.ng visibly. So great is the likelihood of illusion and misinterpretation in the subjective realm that an objective evaluation is indispensable. What should be done when a competent guide is not available we consider next. 6) Competent spiritual direction. A qualified and experienced guide when faced with alleged divine communications sees them, of course, in their context. He considers the recipient's lifestyle, whether it is character-ized by love, joy, humility, detachment, obedience. The Father and the Son do not reveal themselves to the unloving and the proud (Jn 14:21; Lk 10:21). St. Paul told the Galatians that what the Spirit brings to His own is not self-indulgence or temper or fa~ctions or impurity but rather love, joy, peace, patience, gentleness, self-control (Ga 5: 19-22). I find repeatedly in spiritual direction that a deep prayer life, a genuine communion with God indwelling, is invariably.accompanied by these New Testament criteria. The spiritual director usually does well not to make much of the com-munication reported to him (although he belittles neither the person nor the report). If the communication is from God, its chief good effects are already achieved. If it is not from God, the less attention paid to it the better. Religious still complain, as did St. Teresa of Avila four centuries ago, of the lack of knowledgeable spiritual directors. What should one do if he cannot find a competent guide? It is my opinion that in the area of advanc-ing prayer as also in this matter of alleged communications, no direction is preferable to probably incompetent direction. A great deal of damage can be done by well-intentioned but faulty guidance. St. John of the Cross seems to have been of the same mind. After advising that formal locutions should be manifested to "an experienced confessor or to a discreet and wise person," he adds that "if such an expert person cannot be found, it is better not to speak of these locutions to anyone, but simply pay no attention to them, for a soul can easily fall into the hands of some persons who will tear it down rather than build it up. Souls should not.discuss these locutions with just anyone, since in so serious a matter being right or wrong is of such importance.TM 7) Growth in ]aith. A pilgrimage people travels not by vison but by faith (Heb 11:13-16; 1 Co 13:12). Toward the beginning of this article we considered that when God deals with private persons (as distinguished from the publicly commissioned heralds of His revelation), He usually com-municates with them in the general know!edge of dark faith. Even when He may offer a specific message, He wants it confirmed by the appropriate human authority. The proximate means by which we are united to God is nothing finite and created. It is the adherence to God Himself revealed in His Word. The 51Ibid., c. 30, :~5; p. 209. 186 / Review lor Religious, Volume 35, 1976/2 stronger this clinging to Him, the more readily He communicates with the one clinging?-~ For St. Paul only the converted, the holy can detect the mind of God and know His perfect will (Rm 12:2). The more one is transformed by faith andlove the more God can pour out' additional light and love into his heart and mind. In this way we are transformed from one glory to an-other by the indwelling Spirit (2 Co 3:18). r"-"'The Holy Spirit illumines the intellect that is recollected," says John, "and He illumines it according to the mode of its recollection, and the intellect can find no better recollectt0n than in faith, and thus the Ho.ly Spirit wili not illumine it in any othei" recollection more than'in faith. The purer and more refined a soul is in faith, the more infused charity it possesses, and the more charity it has the more the Holy Spirit illumine it and communicates His gifts."lbid., c. 29, #6; p. 205. To A Benedictine Were you a dawn-rising monk in a black-robed hood Meditating in a Kansas winter wood? As you shuffled to chapel in bare, black sandals Lighting beeswax tapered candles-- Did you gaze into Christ's~bleeding eyes On His altar crucifix? And soul-long as all souls long for an unearthly Paradise As your hand touched His candlesticks? Later in your journeys all around the U.S.A.-- Did you study, thought-penetrate all people's problemed way? Did you want to reach the people when the people turned away? Did you find it very difficult sometimes to even pray? For God is ~never lost or ever far away . " But sometimes our paths seem hid and crossed, With clouds hiding tomorrowt darkening our future's way. Yet we know Redempti,on's garment must be woven By our own hands this very day, woven in Christ's design and way. Christ has a certain design, one that's yours, one that's mine, With His holy gift of time, He'll teach us to weave His way. If we don't forget to love Him, listen to what,His voice will say, He'll lift us up, overflow our cup. We'll find a brighter day. Mary Ann Putman 4422~.42nd Ave., S. West Seattle, WA 98116 Reflections on Our Congregation Sister Cecilia Murphy~ R.S.M. Sister Cecilia is Director General of the Sisters of Mercy in Pittsburgh. On the oc-casion of last All Souls~ Day, she reflected with her sisters on the "'many saints of our Congregation" and on the meaning of the Congregation itself. She resides at 3333 Fifth Ave.; Pittsburgh, PA 15213. We as a Congregation have some penetrating questions to answer. Among these questions are: What are we as a religious Congregation? What are we to each other? What is-our Congregational apostolic presence? What witness do we give as Sisters of Mercy? Does our life style reflect that of Christians who believe in the beatitudes and who strive, to live lives of ~simplicity? Do we feel the cost of being consecrated to God or do we dilute the suffering in our lives by compromises? Are ,we joyful people who live other-centered lives? Do we wish to grow and attracL new members? My most vital concerns about the Cqngregation center around questions like these. We must answer these questions as individuals and as a Congrega-tion. No General Director, no Council, no Policy,.Board can answer these questions. Each of us must assume the responsibility ,, to answer these ques-tions. ~ Our Decrees acknowledge the primacy of interior renewal. Are we really attentive to interior renewal? Our focus on external renewal is evident. Our external appearance,, our life style, our behavior patterns have changed greatly since 1966. What has happened to us interiorly? During the past nine years, many of us have suffered intensely from change. Through this suffering we have grown individually and as a Congregation. But, we now need to focus on some aspects~of our lives which need attention from each one of us. Personal prayer, without question, is an absolute necessity for each Sister. Never in our history .has the need for personal prayer been greater, 187 Review for Religious, Volume 35, 1976/2 and never have our distractions from prayer been greater. Prayer, as we all know, is not an obligation that we clock of[ at one-half hour periods; it is a way of life; it is a giving of ourselves to the Lord day by day despite the noises of our work and our relaxations. Why did we come to religious life? We must constantly seek to answer this question--not for some other Sister, but for ourselves. Do we as a Congregation witness to the value of prayer in our lives? Do people sense in me, an individual Sister of Mercy, that prayer is a priority? Do I ever take time for a day of retreat? Con-sidering the challenges to our life and to our spirit, these are not questions we can afford to ignore. These are questions that each of us must answer. I am firmly convinced that if we as a Congregation renew ourselves in-teriorly and face the question of personal prayer, we will not be predicting a rate of growth of one new member each year. We must be renewed in our commitment to personal prayer. Prayer presupposes some time for quiet. We live in a noisy world of TV, chatter, and many other noises, but we must remember that we need time and space for prayer. External stillness can help dispose us to God. This quiet cannot be imposed, but I ask eacfi Sister to contribute to a spirit of quiet and calm in her living situation. Thr6ugh this we can better stand before God, be ready for His word, and become more attuned to Him, more in touch with ourselves, our strengths, weaknesses, and potentialities. While we must pray alone, we must also pray together. Communal prayer t~or many Sisters is a source of concern and a disappointment. That in itself is a hopeful sign. I feel that there is a growing concern within us as a Congregation that we want and need to pray together: No one form of prayer will satisfy every Sister at all times~ But we have a right to expect communal prayer from each other. Each group of Sisters living together must continue to'be concerned and to make serious'efforts to pray together. It has been frequently said that communal prayer cannot be a forced situation, in which those who seldom communicate meet to*recite the same words. Prayer requires some union of mind and heart among its partici-pants. Thus, the need for rehewal in prayer touches on vital questions of community, of what we are to each other. By membership in the Congregation we share a bond of religious dedi-cation and a commitment to common ideals~ Sisters of our Congregation should be "special" to us even though we may not share their life Style or dress. We MUST be kind to one another. We cannot destroy each other. We must begin to 'realize that our conversations, our attitudes of hopeful-ness and joy or of complaint and negativism can cause 6thers to be strength-ened and rejoice in their vocations or to lose heart 'and wonder what re-ligious life has done for us. Our attitudes are conveyed in subtle 'ways; our words also tell others how we feel about them and what our values are. We must, if we'are to survive or deserve to survive as a Congregation, take careful account of our attitudes toward each other and toward the Congre~- Reflections on.Our Congregation / 189 gation. Catherine McAuley gave us a legacy of union and charity.Thus, we cannot spend our waking hours, our phone and table conversations gather-ing information ,about other Sisters, judging each other, and using leisure time in pettiness. There is NO time for this. We have;been called to be apostles, to spread, the "good news," to be "good news" to others. None of us, regardless of age or occupation, is exempt from this responsibility. Each of us needs to ask herself: Am I good news to others? Do Sisters consider me a strengthening factor in Congregational life? None of us has a perfect record in this regard. But let us begin again. Let us try to be more aware of our words and attitudes, more supportive of each other, not just as we do so well in times of death and sickness, but every day. Let us likewise reflect upon our attitudes to others outside the Congregation. Are we prejudiced? Are we concerned about others who lack the necessities of life? Are our values really Christian? Living religious life is not easy. It costs a great price. In the New Testa-ment we learn from Christ the cost of discipleship. He was hated, con-fronted, and crucified. He was, for all human purposes, the greatest failure the world has ever known. He did not come to bring us suffering but to teach us how to live with it. To His~ disciples He said: "Take up your cross and follow me". "Unless the seed die, it remains alone". "Un-less you deny yourself . . . " Christ did not igreach an easy message. He did not call His disciples to a life of comfort and security. He said: "The Son of Man has nowhere to lay His head". "the servant is not greater than his Master." It is never easy to be a disciple. It we are comfortable, satisfied and complacent, we have great cause for concern about our Con-gregation. No one who tried to fulfill the will of God did so with comfort and satisfaction. I see in our Congregation some need for each of us to reflect on the meaning of the cost of discipleship. Have I personally lost sight of who I am called to be? Have I compromised and rationalized so that I can have the best of two worlds? I cannot look at another Sister and judge what she has done. I must look at myself. When the Church abrogated the Lenten fast, she intended that we impose new personal penance upon our-selves. Do we do this? The human condition has not changed, nor has our need for self-denial. Each of us is, a sinner and the more we know of God, the more we know how sinful we are. None of us is perfect nor can we forget that we need to make conscious responses in self-denial. Catherine McAuley founded her Congregation on Calvary to serve a crucified Master. Each of us has a share in that mission by our member-ship in this Congregation. Catherine McAuley held ideals of service like: "God knows I would rather be cold and hungry than that His poor should be deprived of any consolation in our power to afford." Is this a reality in my life? Am I willing to be hungry, even occasionally, that others may eat? These are the kinds of questions we must face if we are to be true to the 190 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/2 spirit of Catherine McAuley. We need God desperately and we need each other desperately. We need to 'be willing to experience conversion personally and as a Congrega-tion. We must be willing to pay the price for this conversion. ~ We can and must be a tremendous potential for good in the Church and the world. We can and we must witness to each other and the world that material goods are NOT the source of our joy nor the values on which we spend our "energies. We need to reflect simplicity--not in a judgmental or self-righteous way but in a spirit of who we are called to be. We can~and we need to reflect a joy'that comes from living with Sisters of joy who belong to God and who are free to be faithful in celibate love. We must focus on what we are to each other in community, We must share not only our goods but ourselves. If we have any struggles today and. are to attract new members to our Congregation, I am convinced we must experience interior renewal and unity of purpose. We know that God is faithful and that He will help us in this. Let us unite together as a Congregation, renewed in our purpose to pursue conversion. May God grant each of us light, strength, patience, and courage so that individually and corporately we will be strengthened to spread the good news, to further God's Kingdom, to be vital Sisters of Mercy. A More Authentic Poverty Horacio de la Costa, S.J. At the time of the 32nd General Congregation of the Society of Jesus, Ft. de la Costa was one of~the four General Assistants to Fr. Arrupe. Subsequent to the Con-gregation, he was able to return to his beloved historical studies and writing, center-ing on the history of the Church in the Philippines. He resides at Xavier House; P.O. Box 2722; Manila 2801; Philippines. A consideration of the D~cree on Poverty of the 32nd. General Congrega-tion of the Society of Jesus must begin with a word about its background. The General Congregation immediately preceding, the 31st, decided that Jesuit legislation on poverty should be brought into conformity with the dispositions of. Vatican II, but at the same time perceived that this would be better done not by itself but by experts reflecting on the matter over a period of time. It therefore elected what are called definitores to draw up Statutes on Poverty which would become Society law, on the authority of the General Congregation itself, upon approval of the. Superior General. In 1967¢ Father General Arrupe approved these Statutes. The 31st General Congregation had provided, further, that the 'Statutes thus adopted be submitted for review to the next General Congregation. Ac-cordingly, Father General Arrupe, having decided after the Congregation of Procurators of 1970 to convene the 32nd General Congregation, ap-pointed a study commission to go over the Statutes and ~:ecommend possi-ble improvements. Some of the delinitores sat in this commission also. Most of its members were moral theologians, jurists, or administrators. Some months before the Congregation convened, Father General expanded the *This article is :being published simultaneously in the current issue of Jesuit Studies (The American Assistancy Seminar in Jesuit Spirituality) entitled: "On Becoming Poor: A Symposium on Evangelical Poverty." 191 Review ]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/2 membership of tffe commission to include experts from other disciplines and areas of experience. The 32nd General Congregation constituted from among its member-ship its own Commission on Poverty: Commission III. Some of the mem-bers of the pre-Congregation commission, being also congregati, were elected to Commission Ili. Very broadly speaking, it can be said that for the jurid-ical aspects of the' present Decree, the Congregation relied chiefly on the work of the pre-Congregation commission; for its pastoral aspects, on its own Commission III. The Decree itself is divided into three sections. Section A is a declara-tion of what Jesuit poverty should be today in the light of prevailing con-ditions in the Church and in the world. This declaration sets forth the as-cetical and pastoral principles on which is based the dispositive part of the Decree, Sections B-F. Section B, "Norms," gives the prescriptive guidelines for a revision of the Statutes on Poverty, to be undertaken by a commis-sion appointed by Father General, who is to approve and promulgate the revised Statutes. Sections C-F are supplementary provisions concerning certain aspects of the new juridical structure which is being given to the Jesuit practice of poverty. A prinCipal objective which the pre-Congregation commission set for itself was to simplify Jesuit legislation on poverty. It was observed that over the years numerous alterations had been introduced into the primitive legis-lation of the Ignatian Constitutions, usually by obtaining an indult, that is, an exception to the law, from the Holy See; for instance, the indult whereby Jesuits are enabled to accept Mass stipends. Another~ kind- of deviation from the primitive legislation was that of certain accepted anomalies; for :instance, houses of writers.: A house of writers is not, strictly speaking, a "college" in the sense of the Constitu-tions. It is not a house of formation, the only Jesuit institution to which St. Ignatius allowed fixed revenues. Later, however, houses of writers were also permitted fixed revenues, on the grounds that they cannot otherwise carry on their valuable apostolate, since the kind of books Jesuits write are very seldom best-sellers. Similarly, there was no provision in the primitive legislation for the care of the sick and the aged. These were therefore assigned to the same juridical category as the Jesuit seminarians ("scholastics") supported by the colleges. In effect, those retired from the active apostolate were equated with those who had ~not yet begun it, and the arca seminarii, or formation fund, did double-duty as a social-security fund. . There were also accepted ambiguities which amounted to legal fictions. For instance, missionary priests in the Spanish colonies--at least up to the time the Jesuits were expelled therefrom (1767)--received fixed yearly stipends from the government. In the Philippines, this stipend was 100 silver pesos and 100 [anegas (bushels) of rice a year. This was by no means A More Authentic Poverty / 193 a pittance. A silver peso in those days was really made of silver, and its purchasing power was probably a hundred times that of the present metal-alloy peso. At any rate, each missionary priest was able to support with his stipend a missionary ~brother,~and still have something left over toward building a parish church and a parish, house. Now then: this stipend can, with a little stretching of meaning, be called an alms. But the government, and almost everybody else, considered it a salary--so.mething which the Constitutions did not allow for, especially with reference to spiritual min, istries, the normative maxim for which was. to "give freely what you have freely received." A more recent example of ~this ambiguity is the~ salary received by military and hospital chaplains. Military and hospital chaplaincies are certainly valuable, even necessary apostolates, But in many countries of the world, 'the civil law does not allow anyone to become a military or hos-pital chaplain unless he accepts a salary. It does not allow him to give freely what he has freely received. Finally, there was what looked like downright violations of th~ law to those Who ttid not understand or appreciate the need from which they arose. How, ,for instance, was the glorious Japanese mission of the Old SoCiety, founded, by Xavier himself and so fruitful in martyrs, supported?~:Why, by the fantastically .lucrative Macao,Nagasaki silk trade. ,.Portuguese inv~estors in the trade would invest sums for, or on behalf of, the Jesuit Provin(~'of Japan, and the profits from these investments were. what supported' the Province's catechumena~es, houses of formation, mission station~, printing press. Were they alms? Were they fixed revenues? Or were they negotiatio vetita, commerce forbidden to clerics? All these complexities seemed to arise from the fact that thoroughly ~alid and even absolutely essential apostolates could not be undertaken or main-tained without such departures from the primitive legislation. And 'the reason for this was the difference in economic, social, and juridical struc-tures between the modern world, the world that emerged from the Indus-trial Revolution, and the late-medieval world, the world of St. Ignatius. There are all-pervading socioeconomic realities we must take into account today which St. Ignatius and his first companions almost certainly did not foresee. Here are some of them. In many parts of the world, Western and non-Western, capitalist and socialist, there is a decline in the witness value of mendicancy. Living on aims is rarely if at all considered an effective witness to iapostolic fi'eedom and trust in divine Providence, Accompanying this decline is a correspond-ing appreciation of the ethical and social value of work, and of wh.a.t are generally considered to be the natural adjuncts of working for a living, such as the provident setting aside of savings for the future, and the invest-ment of such savings in economic enterprises that generate income. Another difference to be noted between St. Ignatius' time and ours is 194 / Review lor Religious, Volume 35, 1976/2 the decline in the modern world of the temporal power .and wealth of the Church,-and the dissolution of medieval forms of union of Church and State. It is no longer possible,for large-scale apostolic enterprises to be financed by endowments granted by pope or prince, by cardinal or'con-quistador. How are large-scale apostolic, :enterprises financed today? Mostly by smal! private donations derived chiefly from the middle class: the people; neither rich nor poor, who enable o religious institutes to train,their seminarians and establish foreign missions. It is a fact, to be acknowledged with gratitude, that in the world as it now is we, depend almost entirely on the bourgeoisie for the financial viability of our apostolic enterprises. On the other hand, we r~eligious are called to live not precisely as bourgeois but as poor men and women. How do we do this, in the world as it now is? How do we set up a structure~for our poverty that will be simple enough and practical enough to enable us to carry on our ministries effectively, and yet live poor? ~ ~ The pre-Congregation commission on poverty mentioned earlier pro-posed that one way of doing this was to accept the basic distinction be-tween communities and apostolic institutes, .a distinction already Sketched out by the definitores of the Statuta of 1967. The 32nd General Congrega-tion ac6epted the :distinction, along with the juridical implications spelled out by'the commission.1 In fact, the Congregation made that distinction the "keystone" of its "reform of the structure of temporal administration.":-' There are, of course, preblems raised by this revision of structure, or foreseen as'following upon it. That is why the Holy Father directs that the Decree be put into practice ad experimentum, so that the. next General Congregation "can re-examine the entire question on the basis of the .experi-ence acquired in the years to come.''3 But ~where the religious life is.con-cerned, juridical structure is usually consequent on a spiritual discernment. In the present case, that discernment is set forth in the expository portion of the Decree (Section A), to which we now turn. The 32nd General. Congregation confirms the findings °of its predecessor on the basis of a review of the Societyrs experience during the decade inter-t" By the law of ~the Society there is to be established a distinction between com-munities and apostolic institutes, at least with regard to the destinatibn and usu-fruct of 'their goods and between the financial accounts of each."--Decree of Poverty B III 1. Apostolic institutes are defined as "those institutions or works .belonging to the Society which~ have a certain permanent unity and organization for apostolic pu,rposes, such as universities, colleges, retreat houses, and other such in which Ours cai'ry on their apostqlic work."--ibid. B I 2. "Th~ goods of apostolic institutes of the Society may not be diverted to the use or profit of Ours except for a suitabl~ remuneration, to be approved by the Provincial, for work in such institutes or for services rendered to the same."--ibid: B IV. ~-lbid. A IV I 1. '~Jean Cardinal Villot to Father General Arrupe, 2 May 1975, n. 5. A More Authenti¢ Poverty / 195 v~ening between them. These findings are chiefly three. First, that our pres-ent pra~ctice of evangelical poverty, falls short of. the norms .established by St. Ignatius and the first companions, and hence, that we must resolutely and perseveringly undertake a renewal of the spirit of poverty according to the specifically Ignatian inspiration. Second, that while we must~ by all means keep the primal norms of~.our poverty intact as far as their substantive de-mands are concerned, we must also adapt them to,the socioeconomic and juridical conditions of our time, very different from those of the time when St. Ignatius and the first companions established them. In other Words, our renewal of the spirit of poverty must be accompanied by a certain adaptation of structures and procedures; it must be a renovatio accoramodata. Third, that in the matter Qf poverty, as in other matters, ,spirit and structure are intimately interdependent; that while the spirit of poverty needs a structure to support it, safeguard it, and make it operative, the structure wilPnot work, will become dead-weight and dead-letter, unless those involved in the structure are imbued with the spirit of poverty and are resolved to make the structure work. The determination of the surplus income of 'a community might serve to illustrate this third finding, namely, the interdependence of spirit~and structure. The surplus income of a Jesuit community cannot be retained. It must be disposed of annually.4, By surplus income iS o meant what is over and-above the expenses and the contingency fund. provided for in the annual budget of the communit~y as determined by its "responsible administrator" with the appr.ovai of the provincial superior.~ The norm for estimating the annual budget is a community style of.life "removed .as far as possible from all infection of avarice and as like as possible to evan-gelical poverty.''6 Ultimately, therefore, this whole rrgime of placing the community on a budget and disposing of annual surpluses will depend on the style of life adopted by the community. It will depend oi~ how seriously the community tries to live up to the norm set by the Congregation, namely, that "the standard of living of our houses should not.be higher than that of a family of slender means whose providers must ,work. hard for its support.''r In a word, it will depend on how much alive the spirit of poverty is among us. For, as the Congregation. says; "While law can support spirit, no legal re-form will profit anything unless all, .our members elect evangelical poverty with courage at the invitation of .the Eternal King, Christ our Lord.,8 , 4Decree on Poverty B VII 1. 51bid. B VI. ~Ibid. B VII 1. rlbid. A llI 7. 8Ibid. A V 13. 196 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/2 The norm for our standard of living just ~ited may in ~turn serve to illus-trate the second 'of the findings mentioned above, namely, the need for adaptation. It is stated that our standard of living can be lower, but not higher than that of "a family of slender means." Yes; but what are "slender means"? What does "slender" mean? One particularization of the term follows immediately: a family of slender means is one whose providers must work hard for its support. This would seem to exclude unearned in-come, that is, income from'invested funds, at least as a principal source of support for our communities. It would seem to imply that our communities should derive their day-to-day support from the earnings of the day-to-day work of their members. Here is one example of the adaptation to the changed conditions of the times noted earlier. The Congregation itself calls attention to it: "For cen-turies, the perfection of religious poverty was found in mendicancy . He was .counted poor who lived on alms, placing all his hopes in the provi-dence of God operative through benefactors. With growing clarity the Church invites religious to submit to the common law .of labor. 'Earning your own living and that of your brothers and sisters, helping the poor by your work--these are the duties incumbent upon you.' '''~ This may possibly explain why the Congregation does not have'recourse to the gauges or measuring rods of religious poverty devised in times past. Such ~as, that religious poverty is a poverty of dependence~. dependence, in the first instance, on the superior, but through him, dependence on the providence of God "operative through benefactors,'--that is, dependence on alms. The emphasis today is not on alms but on work. Or again, that our poverty should be assimilated to that of honesti sacerdotes, reputable secular priests; for while the reputable secular priests of former times did live very slenderly, they were nevertheless supported by "livings,~' that ig, stable revenue derived chiefly from landed property. However, it must not be thought that the Congregation excluded mendi-cancy-~ dependence on alms for support--altogether. Neither did it sup-pose that religious who live on alms do not work. We should give it credit for a certain measure of realism. It is a fact that many of our, hardest work-ers are dependent~ on alms for their support; for instance, missionaries. It is also a fact that in certain regions of the world today, for instance, in those countries behind the Iron Curtain where the Church is permitted tO exist~ Jesuits can live and work only i~ supported by free-will offerings. And it is equally a fact that even in those regions of the world where the right of the Church to exist is recognized, much of the work we have to do as ministers of the Gospel does not have a financial remuneration attached to it. Thus, while we should by all means adapt ourselves to the work-ethic of our time, we should guard against pressing too closely the work-income ~'lbid. A II 4, citing Vat. II, PC n. 13, ET n. 20. A More Authentic Poverty / '197 nexus. It is my impression~ that the Congregation was fully .aware of the dangers of doing so; fully aware that it could introduce among us what usually accompanies the work ethic, namely the market orientation. It is not too far-fetched to foresee an evolution of attitude after this fashion: One begins by looking around for compensated.work in order to be able to contribute to the support of .one's community. One goes on to. prefer compensated to non-compensated work, the apostolic value of the Works being roughly ~equal. A gradual, perhaps a very gradual, an almost imper-ceptible reversal of values then takes place, whereby the value of apostolicity becomes Jsecondary to the value of marketability. Such a process might even end up with an alternative version of Surplus Value, namely, that wages represent an apostolic "surplus" over and above the apostolic value of the work itself, and hence that the better compensated work is the more apostolic work. Besides vitally affecting our choice of ministries, a too rigid interpreta-tion of the duty of ~"earning your.own' living and that of your brothers and sisters" could introduce in the Society--int~ormally, to be sure, but palpably another system of grades, one based not on presbyteral function but on earning capacity. Those engaged in gainful employment and thus con-tribute to the,support of the community would, for all practical purposes, be the professed; those not thus engaged, and hence are supported by the community, °would be the coadjutors. Such a stratification would tend to bring our c"0mmunity life down to a purelyhuman level, and may well have disastrous consequences: assumption of privilege by the ~gainful workers, frustration and resentment on the part of the "unprofitabl~ servants." Are these purely conjectural hypotheses, or do we perceive them even now, in certain parts of the Society, as a~ cloud no bigger than a man's hand? At any rate, we have from the'Congregation a reminder that the adoption of the work ethic--as, indeed, the adoption of any valid principle of action--involves risk. "The frequent engagement of Ours in professions and salaried offices it not without dangers, not only for the spirit of gratu-ity, but even, for the observance of common life itself. SuCh work is to be chosen only as a more effective means to the communication of faith, with-out thought of remuneration or of the privileges attached'to an office.''1° But to get back to the slender-means norm. Besides the fact that it.is means acquired by work, present hard work, rather than a stable income from invested funds, what other nuances can give it sharper definition? Perhaps this, that it should be a deliberate renunciatibn of consumerism, of "the appetite for enjoyment and consumptign of material goods" which, as the Congregation points out, "spreads everywhere and verges on a prac-tical atheism.''11 At least that. "At the very least, religious poverty should lOlbid. A III 8. 111bid. A II 3. 198 / Review ]or Religious,~ Volume 35, 1976/2 try hard to limit rather than:, to expand consumption,!~ :says. the Congrega-tion. 1-° ,.~ Another. nuance of the :slender,means norm is that our style Of life should be pitched at a level which enables and encourages us not only to work for t.h.e, poor but with ithe poor. In order to do that~ we need to i"acquire some experience of their condition;" and even of their "miseries and distress." This, the Congregation says, is a necessary consequence of the basic option we have made regarding our apostolate today, namely, "comniitment to the cause of justice and to the service of the poor.''13 It is with this nuance that the Congregation repeats ,St, 'Ignatius' injunction "to love poverty as a mother and, within the measure of holy discretion, experience some of its effects as occasions arise. Here, then, are some of the specifications that might make the slender-means norm of our voluntary poverty less abstract, more applicable to real, life .situations: Our style of life should be that of the worker rather than the rentier;.it should put out: of our reach the open-ended self-indulgence of . the consumer society; it should afford us some~direct experience of what the involuntarily poor of today have to put up with, so that we can the more realistically and effectively help them to help themselves. I must con-fess, however, that even so, for me personally, the slender-means norm remains somewhat 'fuzzy around the edges. And I think I see:the reason why in ~a statement in obliquo of the Congregation itself. It expresses regret that we have no other word.to designate the poverty of ~the.~)religous life except the word "poverty." This is regrettable ~because "poverty means very different things to different people.''.~ Indeed it does. Not only that; different people (and therefore different Jesuits) can hold their different views of poverty honestly and sincerely, without hy-pocrisy or cynicism. Further: the reasons why they hold these different views are not always myths but often realities. Thus, a Jesuit style of life really and truly considered poor in Australia or West Germany may well be considered really and truly :affluent in Ecuador or Indonesia; not neces-sarily because Ecuadorian and Indonesian Jesuits are religious of strict ob: servance, while Australian. and West-German Jesuits are religious ~ of lax observance; but simply because of~ the .difference between "a family of slen-der means" in the developed world and the corresponding family in the underdeveloped world. ~ Consider, too, the fact, or at least the possibility, that the type of apos-tolate to which a Jesuit is sent has, perhaps should have, an influence on his style of life; an influence that leads, perhaps inevitably, to a difference ~Z.lbid. A III 7. ~. ~'~lbid. A II 5, A III 10. ~Const. [287]. ~SDecree on Poverty A I11 7. A More Authentic Poverty / 19,9 in standard of living. Thus~ it might be asked whether the:style of life of Jesuits teaching in the Gregorian University~ in Rome should be, or can be exactly that of Jesuits working among the marginados in Venezuela. The classical.: precedents invoked by those who favor a difference are will known. Among ~he missionaries of the Old Society in India, was there not a sign~ificant difference in style of life between those who worked among the brahmins and those who Worked-among the pariahs? And what about the drastic change in style of life adopted by Xavier in Japan, when .he learned that the Japanese paid scant attention to mendicants but might possibly give a hearing to an hidalgo? Equally-familiar are the precedents brought forward by those opposed to recognizing such differences. Ignatius' instructions to Lainez and Salmer6n, papal theologians at the Council of Tre~nt, that they should not follow th.e life style of the Council Fathers, but should work in ,hosEitals as orderlies, preach in city squares without a Stipend, and beg their meals fromo, door. to. door. The example of Ignatius, himself, when, he returned to Loyola from Paris: refusing to stay in?.the ancestral castle with his brother, he chose to dodge in the town infirmary, considering it a better platform from which to. persuade his fellow citizens to the service of faith and~ the promotion of justice. There is, then, an ambiguity--a necessary ambiguity, as ,iLseems--in the general norms proposed .by the Congregation; and the Congregation. admits it. Not only does it recognize that poverty can mean different things. to different people, but in ;recommending "the insertion of communities among the poor" as '.'a testimony of love of the poor and of poverty to which the Church encourages religious," it calls attention to the fact that "implehae.ntation of this proposal will have to be different in our widely. diff,ering circumstances.''I~ What it is saying, in effect, is that the slender-means~ norm can mea.n different things to different communities., o Thp practical conclusign that follows from this is that it is up t'o the discernment of local and provincial_ communities to ensure that, taking into account differences in socio-economic context and apostolic commit-ment, our poverty is, and is .seen to be, the poverty of Christ. It is to the same practical conclusion that the Congregation comes in the other major areas of our life and apostolate.17.The crucial role which the Congregation assigns to discernment, personal, and communitarian, in the process of translating its decrees from paper to practice,~, clearly appears in that it recognizes discernment as an, ingredient of Jesuit identity,18 _.and giyes,~ex~, t.ended treatment to it as a feature of our community life.1:' ~ This brings us to what was mentioned earlier, as the first of the~ findings ~lbid. AIlI 10. ~TGC 32, "Our Mission Today," n. 71; "The Formation of Jesuits," n. 22. lsGC 32, "Jesuits Today," n. 19. ~ ~:~GC 32, "Union of Minds and Hearts," nn. 21-24. ~ 200 / Review 1or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/2 of the Congregation on Jesuit poverty, namely, the need for a renewal of the spirit of our poverty as conceived by St. Ignatius. A first observation and an Obvious one is that we h~ave vowed ourselves as religious to evangelical poverty, that is, the poverty proposed by the Gos-pel as a counsel of perfection~ and adopted by Christ~ himself. Hence, a first distinction, equally obvious, must be made between our voluntary poverty and the involuntary poverty that afflicts so large a portion of the human race. This inhuman and dehumanizing poverty, frequently imposed by in-justice, is an evil. It cannot be the object of a vow. It is not the poverty we embrace, it is the poverty, we must fight. Religous poverty is evangelical, not necessarily sociological. Not necessarily; which leads to a second observation. All religious in-stitutes are followings of Christ, but each religious institute follow~ Christ in its own way, according to the charism of its founder. Of St. Ignatius it may be said that his way of following Christ is pre-eminently the way of service, of apostolic service. We belong to a Society which~"'is founded for this purpose above all . the defense and propagation of the faith" :and any kind of ministry whatgoever that shall be "for the glory of God and the common good.''~° Our poverty, then, as everything about us, is-~or is meant to be apostolic. We embrace poverty not for its own sake, as another religious institute well might, but in function of the apostolate. St. Ignatius' phrase praedicare in paupertate--to preach in poverty--must, I think, be ~understood in this sense. We are to be poor that we may all the more effectively preach. The images in which St. Ignatius embodies his notion bf poverty seem to suggest as much. For Francis of Assisi, poverty is the Lady Poverty, the lady of a troubadour, a loveliness to be loved for itself alone. For Ignatius of Loyola, on the other hand, it is "the firm wall of rrligion"; fortifications designed to defend an intra muros, an area of peace in which to build the City of God. And we must love poverty, ~ertainly; but "as a mother": a mother who gives birth to a .life, nurtures and trains it, not to keep for herself but to send forth: a life that will be something of value in the world of me'n.21 In the world of men today, that something of value is, for us Jesuits, a commitment to "the service of faith, of whii~h the promotion of justice is an absolute, requirement.''z2 Hence, if the promotion of justice should i'equire in-some place, at some time, the "insertion of communitiesamong the poor," if it should summon us "to live among the poor, serving them and sharing something of their experience," something of their "miseries and Z°Form. Inst. n. 1. 21Cf: Const. [287], [553]. Z2GC 32, "Our Mission Today," n. 2. A More Authentic Poverty / 20_1 distress,'''-''~ then we .must. by all means do so, but with a clear understand-ing that such poverty is a degradation not an enhancement of the"human condition, and that we embrace it for the sole purpose of h.elping our fellow-men to free,themselve.s from it. In a word, ev.angelical poverty is not neces-sarily sociological poverty, but may demand acceptance of it in.function.of the apostolate. This brings us to a third observation, na~mely, that if our poverty is in function of the apos_tolate, then it is what might be called a "functional?' poverty. It is, in level, form and style the poverty that best serves our apos-tolic ends. Its measure is the tantum-quantum of the Exercises.-"4 That is why the Congregation begins its declaration on poverty with a "reflection on the Gospel in the light of the signs of our times"; or so it seems to me. It seems to me that the Congregation, faced with the task passed on to it by its predecessor of answering "the demands of a real and not pretended poverty," did not begin by asking the question "What should our poverty be?" but by asking the question "What should our poverty be ]or?'''~'' From its reading of the signs of the times, the Congregation brings for-ward certain apostolic objectives which our poverty should by preference bear witness to or serve. At a time when nations, groups, and individuals ha~,e come to realize that .the material resources of this planet.are limited, and have reacted to that realization by accepting as a fact of life that the race is only to the swift and the devil takes the hindmost, vowed poverty should be, and be a witness to, sharing. "On fill sides there is felt a desire to discover new com-munities which favor a more intimate interpersonal communication, com-munities of true sharing and communion, concerned for the integral human development of their members. Our lives, our communities, our very poverty can and should .have a meaning for such a world.'''-''~ That meaning and message will be effectively conveyed by "a poverty pro~foundly re~ newed . . . happy to share with each other and with ,all.'''7 In fact, "our communities will have no meaning or sign value for our tim.es, unless by their sharing of themselves and all they possess, they are clearly seen. to.be communities of charity ,and~ of concern for each other, and all others.''-~ Secondly, at a time when human .fulfillment tends to be equated with the possession, enjoyment, and consumption of material goods, vowed poverty should point in the opposite direction. It should point to. simplicity: :.~Decree on Poverty A II 5, A III 10. :4Cf. 'Spir. Ex. [23]. '-"~Cf. Decree on Poverty A 1I 3-5, A III 7. '-'Olbid. AlI 3. "-'Zlbid. A V 14. "-'Slbid, A II 5. 202 / Review [or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/2 a "simpler way of 'life," ~"simple in community expression and joyous in the following of Christ," and by this witness openin~ up to men "a new liberty and another happiness.''-~'~ Finally, at a time when the struggle for justice often means a~ struggle against unjust establishments, a disengagement from the affluent and power-ful elites from which we have received, and perhaps continue to°receive beriefacti6ns, vowed i56verty must have and be-seen to have a detachment that makes it credible. "It will be difficult for the Society everywhere to forward :effectively the cause of justic~ and human dignity if the greater part of her ministry identifies her with the rich and powerffil.'''~'~ That most be the touchstone of our credibility: detachment. "The attitude of the So-ciety should b~ that of the Third Class of Men. fully as ready to abahdon as to retain, to the greater service of God,''3~ manifest' in a povei'ty that is "apostolic in its~active indifference and readiness for any service; in-spiring our selection of ministries and turning us to those most in need?':~°- In sum: the,selfless sharing of a simplicity of life that leads to integral human developm6nt and, by its realism, gives credibility to our efforts to remove the obstacles tO that development--this is what the Congregation proposes our poverty should be today, as discerned frorri the Signs of the times: ~But in qchat'~sense is this a renewal, a making,new again, a return to what the Society was when it was new? This brings us back to'a point which came up earlier: the crucial role given by'this Congregati~on to discernment. For if it 0is admitted that ours is a functional poverty, a poverty in function oLthe apostolate,~then the authentic practii:e of that~poverty will depend at any given moment on what we discern to be,the Conc?ete objectives~of our apostolate at that moment; in short, on "our mission today." And this adap-tation is truly a renewal--so, at least, it is argued because it is precisely what St. Ignatius did. ~ ~. What Ignatius did was to giv meaning and structure to" the practice of' voweff poverty which was in function of what he discerned: to be the apos-tolic needs Of his time. He then wrote Constitutions which not-only do not forbid but demand that we practice our poverty in the light of a' similar discernment. What was his discernment? We might illustrate how concrete it was by its apparent c6ntradictions, for it is a'well-known fact that the concrete and its demands do not always meet the requirements of abstract logic. Ignatius made Jesuits in professed houses live from day to day and "-'albid. A II 3, A V 14. :~°Ibid. A II 5. 3~Ibid. AIII 9; cf. Spir. Ex. [155]. :*°-Ibid. A V 14; A More Authentic Poverty / 203, even beg from door to door; but he allowed fixed revenues for colleges, that is, the houses where Jesuits were being trained to live from day to day and beg from door to door. He would not permit the sacristies of our churches to be supported by such revenues, but-the churches themselves, Works of art which might be considered verging on the lavish,.he accepted from, or consented to be constructed by, benefactors belonging to the affluent establishments of his time. He did not favor our men going on horseback, even if they were on a mission and in somewhat of a hurry; yet he decided that professed houses should have a garden for our men to walk in. A garden! Why, certainly; a garden in cities where the ordinary citizen took the air in open sewers 'which, by an exaggeration of courtesy, were called streets. But, after all, was not Ignatius following in this matter the example of Christ himself? Christ, who regularly skipped meals because of the poor, the sick, and the bedevilled who pressed around him, but who told treed Zacheus to come down from his perch and give hil~ lunch in his house, the ~ather well provided house of an officer,of the internal revenue. Christ, who did not even have a foxhole or a bird's nest where to lay his head, but who, on his way to or from Jerusalem, regularly stopped_ at Bethany, in the house of the opulent Lazarus; who did this at lehst once with his entire entourage, seemingly unannounced, for he sent Mhrtha into a tizzy trying to figure out how may courses to lay on for dinner. Christ, who told the Seventy-two he was sending out on mission not to bring a purse or an extra pair of sandals, but who also told them that wherever they found accep-tance they should eat and drink what was put before them, because the laborer is worthy of his hire. Christ, who had a rather expensive robe, woven without seam from top to bottom, as the soldiers gambling for it immediately recognized; but who died naked on the cross. What then? Is there a fixed poverty line calculable in currency values,~ valid for all times and seasohs, to which we must keep? It ~ems not. But~ in that case how do we make, how can we be sure that we are making our poverty authentic? It would Seem that our po~verty is~authentic in the hi'eaT sure that it is really and truly in function of our apostolate--as it was in the case of Ignatius, as it was in-the case of Christ. And because it is in func-tion of the apostolate, our poverty, is, in sum, a basic insecurity: the basic insecurity of men who can.be sent and are willing to. be sent on any mission, even without provision for the jou~rney and with no assurance of provision at the end of it. Our poverty level is the minimum required to enable a Jesuit theologian to enlarge the frontiers ~of~ theology. It is also the maximum allowable "~for a Jesuit engaged in~ the "lSedagogy of the oppressed" to.be credible to. the oppressed. And it is a willingness on the part of the theologian to be sent to the oppressed, and a corresponding willingness ~n the part Of the peda-gogue of the oppressed to join a theological faculty. ,Let u,s, g~ve the last w~rd 204 / Review for Religious, l/olume 35, 1976/2 to the 32nd,General Congregation: "The authenticity of our poverty, after all, does not consist so much in the lack of temporal goods, as in the fact that we live and are seen to live from God and for God, sincerely striving for the perfection of that ideal which is the goal of the spiritual journey of the Exercises: 'Give me only a love of you with your grace and I am ~rich enough, nor do I ask anything more.' ":"~ a31bid. AV 14; Spir. Ex. [23~,].' * * Saint Louis University Accent '76 Summer offerings of The Department of Theological Studies, Saint Louis University June 22 - July 30 Accent: Spirituality Continuing SLU's tradition of summer institutes in Spiritu~ality, . Institutes: The~ New Testament and Traditions of Spirituality; Assimilating the LitUrgical Reform: Pastoral Ministry in Th, eological Focus Inaugural Institute: June 7 - June 17 Toward An American Spirituality (Herbert W. Richardson) Accent: °Religious Studies Continuing SLU's on-g0ing M.A. Program in Religious Studies. 12 Courses: Contemporary Doctrihe, Biblical Studies, 'Theology of Religious Life. Accent: Religion arid American Culture Continuing SLU's tradition of exploring the relationship between religion and culture. Workshops: Alternate Futures For Religious Education In The United States; New Interpretations of American Catholicism. Plus: Study Tour To lsrael All institutes and workshops can be separated into two-week segments. For complete information write: Department of Theological Studies Attn: Director of Summer Programs Saint Louis University 3634 Lindell Blvd; ' Saint Louis, Missouri 63108 Our Servant Song to Yahweh: The Radical Yes Sister Mary Catherine Barron, C.S.J. Sister Mary Catherine is an English teacher at Rome Catholic High School. She had p~blished earlier, in the November, 1975 issue. Sister resides at 808 Cypre.ss St.; Rome; NY 13440. In a poem of soul-shattering dimension, D. H. Lawrence, a very ~sensual man, poses a series of very spiritual questions.,He asks: Are you willing to be sponged out, erased, cancelled, ~ made nothing? Are you willing to be made nothing? dipped into oblivion? If not, you will never really change.1 His interrogation embodies the central Christological inquiry asked long before Jesus answered with His life. For throughout the centuries of salva-tion history it has been the haunting refrain of all who embrace the reality of the Servant Song. No matter where we turn in the Old Testament or the New, we find ourselves faced with its harsh delineations. ,Abraham must go through the annihilation Of family ties and holdings in order to found a nation from the child he nearly slays. Moses suffers privation, loneliness, and betrayal as he leads Yahweh's people to a land he never enters. David bears for-ever the searing knowledge of his sin as he witnesses its effects' upon his household and his kingdom. Hosea suffers the painfilled prostitution of his love; Jeremiah preaches renewal amid interior desolation; Isaiah witnesses 1D. H. Lawrence, "The Phoenix," The Complete Poems o[ D. H. Lawrence (New York: Viking Press. 1964). 205 206 / Review for Religious, Volume 35, 1976/2 to the emptiness of the Servant Who is to come. John the Baptist loses his disciples; Mary loses her Son; Jesus loses His life. What do we lose? In a past issue of Bible Today, Father Stuhlmueller reflects on the two-fold aspec't of vocation. He says: "Every vocation has an occasion, that which gets it started. Every vocation has a long search for the deeper mean-ing of what one started out to do.'' Somewhere between the ~'starting oc-casion" and the "deeper meaning" resides a radical "yes" on the part of the servant to what is so graphically outlined in the "Phoenix" poem. How do we say it--that radical "yes"? How did Jesus utter it? Through a total rendering of Himself, in faith, to His Father. He tells us: "Whatever the Father does the Son does too" (Jn 5:19). The Father's "radical yes" to His creation is manifested through the gift of His Son. The Son's "radi-cal yes" to His Father is manifested through the gift of Himself. There was nothing glorious about the human life of Christ. He paid dearly for every sign of spiritual power shown. He labored long and hard for infinitesimally small results. He traversed the length and breadth of His country only to learn that a prophet is never accepted by His own. He was condemned by leaders of the religion He fulfilled. And He

Issue 27.2 of the Review for Religious, 1968. ; 193 208 223 243. 281 289 THE DEATH oF°.ATHEISM- . Rene H. Chabot,~ M.S. FUNCTIONAL APPROACH TO SILE_NCE: .°- Sister Joann Ottenstmer.i P ~ V.M "° ~ INDWELLING: TRANSFIGURING CONSUMMATION~" Thoma~ Dubay, S.M. ~. CLOISTER AND TH'E APOSTOLATE OF R~ELIGIOUS. WOMEN James R. Cain. ~ ~ CELEBRATION~OF THE PASCHAL~MYSTERY: THE:EUCHARIST Christopher Kiesling. O~P. ~. DIFFERENCES BETWEEN PONTIFICAL:-AND DIO.CESAN CON: GREGATIONS Joseph F. Gallen; S.J. -~ 308 MORE ON PRAYER Waltero~l. Paulits. F.S.C. 316 OUR LADY, CAUSEWAY Albert J. Hebert. S.M. 317 SURVEY OF ROMAN DOCUMENTS 321 VIEWS, NEWS, PREVIEWS 329 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS. 344 BOOK REVIEWS EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITORS Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Augustine G. Ellard, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITORS Ralph F. Taylor, S.J. John C. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWEKS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Correspondence with the editor, the associate editors, and the assistant editor, as well as books for review, should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIaIOUS; Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 631o3. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Galien, S.J.; St. Joseph's Church; 321 Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania ~9xo6. + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ecclesiastical approval by faculty members of the School of Divinity of Saint Louis University, the editorial otfices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 559 North Grand Boulevard ; Saint Louts, Missouri 63103. Owned by the Missouri Province Edu-cational Institute. Published bimonthly and copyright (~) 1968 by REVIEW FOR RELmlOUS at 428 East Preston Street; Baltimore, Mary-land 21202. Printed in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at Baltimore, Maryland. Single copies: $1.00. 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Questions for answering should be sent to the address of the Questions and Answers editor. MARCH I968 VOLUME 27 NUMBER 2 RENE H. CHABOT, M.S. The Death- of Atheism THE WOUNDED HERO--MAN It is a diffichlt--perhaps even impossible--task to clearly understand the total human situation of man if one abstracts from God's saving and healing redemp-tion. The reason for this lies in the fact that man--the wounded hero--has never been left to himself, not even for one moment, without God's redeeming love reach-ing him, though at times in a most hidden manner. There was never a single moment in the history of fallen man when he was not in the hands and care of the Healer of all wounds. However, just as a sick person, convalescing from his illness with the help of medicine and doctors, precisely because he is in the process of re-covering and, therefore, not yet in possession of his former health, continues to manifest the nature of his illness thereby making it possible for his doctor to con-jecture what his situation might have been without the medical help he is now receiving, so too, man, because he is not yet fully redeemed and is still in the process of recovering, enables one to discover, or at least surmise, the depth and seriousness of his original illness. Though our fallen hero has never been without the soothing effect of God's healing love, his wounds are clearly visi-ble and one can conjecture what his situation (without any help from the outside)might have been. Such a ~onjecture of man's situation after the fall, abstracting from God's healing grace, will be expounded in the words that follow. An explanation will also be offered why, given such a situation, man finds it diffi-cult to believe in the existence of God, and, at times,' even rejects the possibility. Understanding the situation of our wounded hero will enable one to see better why he rejects, pure love and will also give one a greater comprehension of Christ's mission and, therefore, the mission of the Church--to make God credible to [allen humanity. + Father Rene H. Chabot, M.S., is a member of the La Salette Fathers; La Salette Shrine; At-fleboro,~ Massachu-setts 02703. VOLUME 27, 1968 , REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS The Wound Although possessing an "exalted dignity, since he stands above all things," as was so strongly emphasized in the Constitution on the Church in the Modern World, man has been severely bruised and deeply wounded. Fallen man is indeed a very sick man. This sickness can best be described as a deep-seated self-centeredness. Fallen man is profoundly inclined to selfishness. True love--the love for an other for himself, or, as other-- does not come to him naturally. When he loves, he easily makes himself the object of his love; thus the other is loved for what the one loving can obtain and is, there-fore, not loved but "used." Such easy-coming self-centered-hess is, undoubtedly, the most basic and lasting effect of man's original mistake--a mistake which was de-. cidedly a refusal to turn toward the Other and others as such in preference for a total turning to self. "Man set himself against God and sought to attain his goal apart from God. Although they knew God, they did not glor-ify Him as God, but their senseless minds were darkened and they served the creature rather than the Creator" (The Church in the Modern World, n. 12). The whole of mankind suffered a traumatic experience from this original turning to self. Even with Christ's healing power at work from the very first moment of need, the wound of fallen man is still easily recognizable. True love does not come naturally to man. Few people have learned to love totally and without reserve. Such a love is indeed the rarest and the most difficult of human achievements. Those who have achieved this love are very much aware of the constant and at times crucifying purification which necessarily preceded it. They are also aware that they could not have achieved this love by themselves without the help from someone else. Because of his wound, fallen man finds it natural to turn inward to-wards self and away from the other. Our wounded hero, alongside with his basic greatness and dignity, is "nat-urally" selfish. "Indeed, man finds that by himself he is incapable of battling the assaults of evil successfully, so that everyone feels as though he is bound by chains ¯. Sin has diminished man, blocking his path to fulfill-ment" (The Church in the Modern World, n. 13). Attitudes Which Result from Man's Wound Certain attitudes emerge from this basic and congeni-tal self-centeredness of man which, if left alone and un-controlled, may ultimately lead him to reject the real God and/or create his own. These attitudes are indeed very deeply etched in man's psyche. God's redeeming love has to some extent, and, in some rare cases, al- most totally, corrected them. However, in those instances where they are the rule rather than the exception, these attitudes clearly show how far they could lead man with-out the redeeming love of Christ. These attitudes are intimately linked with and the direct result of man's basic wound of selfishness and self-centeredness. They, in turn, as previously stated, tend to have man reject the one person who could heal him completely, thereby creating a kind of vicious circle. It is of extreme importance that one understand the situa-tion of fallen man in order to grasp why and how these attitudes stem from his own basic selfishness and, as a consequence, tend to have him reject the one true God. Such an understanding will place one in a more favor-able position to recognize the many forms of atheism in the modern world and why it exists in the first place. It will also give one a clearer vision--a deeper insight-~of Christ's mission as the physician of fallen man (see the Constitution on the Liturgy, n. 5). The Council fathers have recognized the seriousness of atheism in the modern world: "Many of our contemporaries have never recog-nized this intimate and vital link with God, or have ex-plicitly rejected it. Thus atheism must be accounted among the most serious problems of this age, and is de-serving of closer examination" (The Church in the Mod-ern World, n. 19). In order to prescribe the proper medi-cine capable of. healing a particular illness one must recognize the symptoms. Why is it that fallen man tends to reject God? How can we who are the prolongation of Christ the physician continue His mission of making God credible to the modern world i£ we do not first understand why and how He is rejected by man? A knowledge of the natural consequences of man's selfish-ness is of primary importance if one is to extend in his own life the healing influence which Christ personally brought to the world and which He now wants to bring to this world through His Church of today. Suspicious of True Love in t.he Other Normally, there are many subjective aspects in our evaluations--the way we think and feel does undoubt-edly condition and influence our decisions and judg-ments. (This, of course, does not mean that one cannot be objective in his judgment. After all, subjective and objective are not to be considered as either-or opposites.) However, personal attitudes and feelings should be, as far as is possible, in accord with the objective truth; otherwise, there will arise a great disparity between sub-jective and objective. If, for example, due to his narrow and biased up-bringing, a Person does not feel attracted to negroes, Death of Atheism VOLUME 27, 1968 19.~ M.~. REV]EW FOR RELIGIOUS ]96 perhaps even harboring antipathy towards them, he will, most likely, disassociate himself with them. His subjective attitude, in this case, will have completely overshadowed the objective truth. Fallen man, observing that others live in somewhat similar situations as he, has a tendency to identify the evaluations and judgments of others with his own. If, for example, he is not at-tracted to the negro, he will, more often than not, be-lieve that other white people in his particular town, city, or country feel the same with reference to the negro. If reality shows him that there are some people who, although they are of the same color and live in the same vicinity as he, are in fact willing to associate with the negro, he will then question the genuineness of this as-sociation. He Will immediately look for ulterior motives, knowing that these motives would be the primary tea- ¯ son for his own association with the negro. Let us apply the above to the .situation of our wounded hero: Due to his deep wound caused by his original Fall, man very easily and "natur.ally" experiences himself as selfish and self-centered. In other words, man experi-ences his own sickness even if, most of the time, he does not consciously consider it as a wound which should not be thei~e. As a result, he projects to others the same kind of basic selfishness which he finds in himself. His thoughts of the other are most likely--"He must be as selfish as I he's out to get what he can from people--I don't trust him, he undoubtedly wants to use me." Fallen man arrives at this conclusion about the other even before meeting him. The other will have been judged as basically selfish and, therefore, not truly capa-ble of loving, for the simple reason that he has been judged according to the experience of the one judging. Add to this man's actual experience of meeting the other. His original projection is substantiated; the other is indeed selfish---he, too, is a wounded hero seeking in all things and in all people his own perfection and self-aggrandizement. Encounter for him is also a meeting of self and not of other~ Such experiences will naturally strengthen man in his conviction that true lovemthe love that seeks only the other for his own sake expecting nothing in return-- cannot possibly exist. This conviction is the result of his own life experiences and not based on any kind of abstract' or speculative 'thinking on his part. Fallen man :does not easily believe in goodness because he has not and does not experience it. It is hard for him to accept as real that. which, he does ,,not personally experience either in himself or in others whom he meets. ~Even with Christ's healing love at work, this unbeliev-ing~ attitude is still ,very" evident. People are so easily suspicious of the kindness of others. Their first reaction to this kindness, interiorly at least, could very well be: "Now what does he want--what's he up to?" If these questions are left unanswered, unbelief continues to sur-vive because they conclude that the ulterior motives prompting the act of kindness are of the type which are not immediately visible. Because he has been seriously wounded and has not yet been fully redeemed, man has difficulty in accepting the reality of true love. Though the doctor has come and has to some extent ar-rested the sickness, man continues to experience the ef-fect of his original wound because he has not completely recovered, Fearful of Being Loved There is yet another consequential attitude which the wounded hero develops from his experience of self-cen-teredness and that is the fear, at times even a deadly fear, of being loved.~To fallen man, self-sufficiency is identified with being, being free. This is but another aspect of his self-centeredness. Consequently, his search for fullness of being is identified with his search for self and total sufficiency. Identifying fullness of being with independence, he automatically rejects that which would call for dependence, that is, pure love. He is so fearful of love that at times even prior to his experiencing it, through a process of rationalization, he will go so far as to deny its possibility, and, therefore, its existence. One can easily refuse to acknowledge that which threatens his very existence. The sorrowful side of this situation is that fallen man, left alone without the healing love of God, cannot change his false identification of being and freedom with self-sufficiency. There is so little true love around him that he cannot experience the healthy kind of dependence which comes from being loved by another. Only the experience of true love is capable of erasing these erroneous attitudes from his mind and replacing them with a healthy outlook towards God and man alike. As his former attitude towards love is a result of a per-sonal experience, so also his new attitude will come only as a result of experienci,hg a new and different love, a love which, while creating [a certain dependence, is ca-pable of and necessary for bringing him to his greatest freedom and fulfillment. Without this new attitude, man rejects love because of his fear of it, fearing it because he identifies it with losing his freedom and being. As mentioned previously, this false identification is rooted in his experience of himself as a self-seeking individual. Even with the presence of God's healing grace, evi-dence of this fear of being loved is constantly present. We are afraid to be loved. If, for example, someone Death of A tlt~sm VOLUME 27, 1968 197 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 198 loves us and chooses to express his love with a gift, do we not often feel obliged to return this favor by another favor? A sincere "thank you" appears to be too little, but "another favor" would at least reach the level of "equal." To simply say "thank you" is in fact admitting and accepting to be dependent on someone else: it is accepting the dependence of love. By returning the favor we seem to become free again--we are no longer obliged. Such a manner of behaving clearly demon-strates that our sickness is a lingering one and we are still on the rugged road of recovery. The symptoms of the illness are still very visible. Naturally, one should love the one who loves him but should not feel obliged to return his gift with another. If he returns the favor only to relieve the feeling of obligation, he is not truly loving the one who first loved him, but loving himself in that he is actually seeking his own inde-pendence and welfare--seeking it in a way, however, which will not give it to him, but, on the contrary, will make him a slave of his own desires. The Rejection of God From what has already been said, it seems rather evident that our wounded hero's attitudes and feelings toward God have been profoundly conditioned and in-fluenced by the traumatic experience of his original act of selbcenteredness, the effects of which experience live on in each of us. Fallen man normally tends to reject the reality of an all-loving God who seeks nothing for Himself in loving man but loves man for his own sake. This rejection stems from the fact that he does not experience in and around himself the reality of goodness or of true love. His unbelief is further nurtured by the failure of the world in which he lives to make God credible to him in an existential way--notwith-standing, of course, the intellectual and more abstract capacities to prove the existence of God. The existence of such a God is not easily accepted by man because pure love seems to be in direct opposition to his daily personal experiences. He will often accept and believe in a god or in God, but not primarily in a God who is known and accepted first and foremost as a loving God. Man will accept more readily ~i just God, a jealous God, a vengeful God, but not so readily a loving God. Our fallen hero simply cannot naturally accept the reality of such a God. Existentially speaking, then, such a God is not credible to fallen mankind. Due to his innate fear of being loved, the wounded hero shies away from such a God, for to encounter Him and accept to be loved by Him is tantamount to a complete giving up of one's life--remembering al- ways that life to him is synonymous with independence. To accept to be loved by God is to accept also total dependence. Fallen man cannot naturally accept such dependence without at the same time--in his way of feeling and thinking--losing his own freedom and ful-fillment. The true image of God thereby becomes a threat to fallen man. To offset this threat, man will either reject Him completely in militant atheism, simply ignore Him, or diminish the threat by emphasizing the justice of God and so forth, and not His total and absolutely pure love. If man were to accept consciously and without fear the total dependency on God's pure love, he would no longer be a wounded man but a fully recovered patient. However, our thoughts are presently concerned with the wounded man who, as a result of his condition, will readily deny the existence of a pure all-loving God, or, if he does accept the existence of God, will feel obliged to do something in return. He will offer sacrifices to God to "make up" for all that God has done. This can be a very subde form of rejecting dependency on an all-loving God. Love for God should not be motivated by a sort 0f favor-for-favor kind of attitude. Such an attitude transmits one's hidden de-sire to remain free of God, to remain independent of Him. It is an indirect rejection of the reality of an all-loving God. Fallen man--self-centered as a result of his wound-- is perfectly conditioned to reject a priori the reality of a loving God. His wound is so penetrating that it clouds his vision and prevents him from seeing at an existential level the God of love. Yet, if he is to be healed, if he is to regain that health which was his at the beginning, man must believe in such a God and center his whole life on Him. The situation of fallen man does seem to be an impossible one---one from which he must be extracted if he is to ever recover. He must have help to accomplish that which he cannot be alone and that help can only .come from the God whom he so easily denies. Only He who is pure love fully realizes man's predicament and undertakes to make Himself credible to His unbelieving creature--to this man who is seemingly so perfectly conditioned never to believe in Him. Thus we enter into the realm of Christ's salvific mission. THE HUMAN EXPERIENCE OF GOD THROUGH CHRIST Christ is the sacrament of God, or, as St. Augustine wrote: "There is no other mystery of God than Jesus Christ." Here, the word "mystery" is equivalent to'sac-rament or sign. Therefore, Christ's mission is basically .!- + VOLUME 27, 1968 ]99 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 20O that o[ being a witness. But what is a witness? W~nat are the exigencies proper to being a witness? Two things immediately come to mind: (1) That which is to be witnessed or signified It is not enough simply to be a witness. One could be a witness o[ stupidity or of selfishness--the world is not in need of such wit-nesses. Because Christ isa sacrament, His whole life was meant to be a sign, but a sign of what? True, He was a sign of God, but most particularly under what aspect? One must be aware of what Christ exactly in-tended to witness. (2) For whom is the signification meant?--The very word "witness" implies that someone is present to observe the sign given. One is a witness to someone, therefore, to people who live in very par-ticular situations and circumstances. For one to be a true witness, he must be understood by the people to whom he is a witness. He must know them and so arrange his sign that they are capable of "reading" him. He must do this in such a fashion that, even i£ they do not immediately "read" him, they will at least stop, listen, and ultimately either accept or reject that which he is witnessing. If Christ is the sacrament, it is important that one consider the persons to whom He is a witness. Christ, the Sacrament of Love Christ's mission was to reveal to the world the reality of love. Here, "to reveal" means more than making God's love known by a purely intellectual didactic teach-ing of His love. Christ gave to the whole world, but first and foremost to those around Him, to those with whom He lived, to those who could see Him, touch Him--in a word---to tho~e who could experience Him, a personal encounter with love, an encounter with some-one who loves totally---one who is comple~61y selfless and in no way whatever seeks anything for himself. Christ's role was to make the God of love credible to those people who were able to directly experience Him. We have seen how fallen man was naturally suspicious of the mere possibility of true love and fearful at the same time of being loved. It is only by experiencing pure love, that is, by meeting, on an existential level, true love, that one can rediscover his belief in a God of love. Certain attitudes and fears can only be over-come by personally experiencing the contrary of these attitudes and fears. Christ gave those around Him the opportunity to meet pure and total love. The sacra-ment of love came precisely to make God credible to all who met Him by living a life o[ total and dedicated selfless love. Christ the Sacrament for the Wounded Hero Christ's mission was not only to witness love, but to witness it in such a way that fallen humanity could understand and read Him. The human situation of man, as mentioned before, is quite unique. Our wounded hero is not neutral in reference to the possibility of love--he is not open as far as believing in the existence of love. The scars of his wound have left him piejudiced to the contrary. If one wishes totruly grasp Christ's witnessing of true ,love, it is .necessary that he first understand the situation of fallen humanity. Christ did not witness the love of His Father as in a vacuum, but to people living in a very particular situation--He witnessed to fallen humanity. In another situation~ne where man had not experienced the deadly wound of selfishness--he undoubtedly Would have been more open to the reality of God, and, consequently, would have more easily recognized true love. That which might have been a clear sign of love in another situation was not in fact a clear sign of selflessness to the existential and historical man. Christ's witnessing of His Father's love, therefore, must be understood in the context of the historical [allen man. The sacramental value of Christ's life was for man as he existedmnot for man as he might have existed, as he existed before the fall, or for man as he will exist after the completion of the redemption. Too often we disassociate Christ's sacra-mental life from the existential reality of fallen man-kind. This often happens at the level of the Church and religious life. It is not enough to speak of the Church and of religious life as signs. The sacramental value of both must be related to the reality of the world of the here ~nd now. Is the Church and religious life a sign to this world, a sign that this world can read? What might have been a valid and true sign in the past might no longer be understood today. If such is the case, both the Church and religious must learn more about the world in which they live in order that they may be a more living witness to the world of today. Of what value are they as witness if the world, because of its attitudes, cannot read them? God, in sending His only Son to witness to the world the reality of His love, took into account the existential reality of man. His sacrament (Christ) was commensurate with man as he is, not as he was, will be, or might have been. The Signs of Selfless Love To a world which leans towards attributing ulterior motives to every act of kindness, which experiences selfishness in loving or in being loved, there could be ÷ ÷ ÷ VOLUME 27, 1968 20! ÷ Rene H. Chabo~ M.$. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS no greater testimony of real love than the love which seeks only to give--receiving nothing and expecting nothing in the very act of loving. Such a witnessing of love by Christ necessarily had to take on some very particular modalities due to the special circumstances in which fallen man found himself. Christ, therefore, chose to love and actually receive nothing in return. Such a .love shocks the unbeliever, but he cannot deny the personal experience he has in meeting such a love. As much as he might try, he cannot see any possible ulterior motives in such a love. This explains "why Christ,' in loving the world, chose to receive nothing in return, thereby giving the world the experience of a selfless love. It was the actual self-emptying of Christ in the act of loving which gave the experience of love to those who knew and met Him. A love which had not been expressed by such a self-emptying could not have carried this world to God. A world which was so deeply egocentric could not have been led to a God of pure love without the visible witnessing of a self-emptying love. Christ was that wit-ness. Christ gave to those who experienced Him loving "to the end" a personal encounter with a selfless God, an encounter with the God of love. It is only in the context of a self-emptying love--which love was neces-sitated by the actual situation of fallen man--that one can appreciate those aspects of His life which are given particular emphasis: (1) His extraordinary preoccupa-tion for the poor; (2) His martyrdom; and (3) His virginity. Christ and the Poor "Blessed are the poor." Christ, of course, loved all men, rich and poor alike; He died for all men, the haves and the have-nots. But first and foremost he wanted to be identified with the Poo~. Why did He choose to be so identified? In order that the purity of His love--God's love--might be more visible to fallen man. The poor could not give Him anything in return, they could not visibly recompense Him for His care and solicitude. In other words, through His identifica-tion with the Poor He could more easily witness to the poor and rich alike that He had not come to love only those who could receive Him well, who could discuss intellectual issues and world problems with Him, or who could entertain Him. His mission as witness was to show the world that pure love is a reality--that God is a reality and that He had not come for what the world could give Him. He came only to give---only to love. His identification with the needy, both the physical and spiritual, was indeed a most beautiful emptying o~ self. It is significant to note that such a preoccupation for the poor was a sign to both the rich and the poor. Christ thereby witnessed to the rich that He loved them in themselves, purely, that is, and not for what they could give Him. If Christ had identified Himself first and foremost with the rich, the powerful, the influential, He would not have been able to give the fallen world, with its selfish attitude and suspicion of the mere possibility of true love, a clear testimony of divine love. The existential circumstances of those to whom one desires to witness must always be considei:ed; other-wise, the witness stands alone and that which he is a sign of remains forever hidden. The Death o[ Christ Christ's witnessing of His Father's lov~ was necessarily conditioned by the historical situation of fallen hu-manity. A true sign or witness is the one which can be understood by a particular person living in par-ticular circumstances. Fallen man is basically suspicious of the reality of love; thus, to him, the ultimate proof of love is to visibly see one who not only receives nothing in the act of love, but actually loses what is his by birth--his life. There is no greater expression of love to a man who, because of his deep attitudes and experiences, doubts that love is possible. Christ's death was precisely that unique testimony of love; it was indeed the greatest manifestation of God. Those who personally experienced Christ and His giving of His life for others experienced true love, thereby experienc-ing also the God who is pure love. By making love credible to man, Christ made God credible. This was the total self-emptying of the Son of Man. It is no wonder., that "the Church then considers martyrdom as an exceptional gift and as the fullest proof of love." Christ's death, therefore, was the fullest and strongest rebuttal to fallen man's suspicious attitude about God. It was that which could, more than any other proof offered, counteract his natural (natural, be-cause of his sin) tendency to universalize selfishness to the extent of denying the very existence of God. In His death, Christ became the clearest proof of the existence of God. Christ, the Virgin It is in the same context of witnessing true love to fallen humanity that one can understand and appreciate the meaning of Christ's virginity. As already empha-sized, the greatest proof of tota! and unselfish love is that one be not only willing but does in fact give his life (in the sense of losing it) in the very act of loving 4- 4. .4" Death oy Atheism VOLUME 27, 196S 203 ÷ ÷ ÷ Rene H. Chabot, M.S. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS the other. This is even great~er than receiving nothing in return. After one's own life, the next greatest emptying of self---the next greates.t sign of lovemis to love and not receive the highest good after self--the "other self," namely, a spouse and children. The greatest sign of . love after martyrdom, then, is that of virginity. Christ's virginity was to fallen man an .added proof of God. As in the case of martyrdom, Christ's virginity was a sign of true love only because He valued the goods of marriage very highly. A so-called martyr who does not value his own life is not a true witness of love. So, too, the virgin who does not highly value the goods which he has sacrificed is not a true witness of. God and not a true virgin for the kingdom of heaven. THE EXl'E~ENCE OF GOD IN AND THROUGH THE CHURCH The whole of Christ's life--but especially His martyr-dom, virginity, and poverty--was, to a world steeped in its own self-centeredness, a living proof of the reality of love. Christ's life was to those who knew Him personally--the first Christian communityma reality which they personally experienced. Such an experience counteracted their natural suspicion of the reality of goodness and thereby made the God of pure love credi-ble to them. But what about all the future generations ~those who would come after Christ? Are they to only know of Christ? Are they simply to be told of Christ's great witnessing of love at a given moment in history? Is it sufficient for one who himself is wounded simply to know that someone in the past has truly loved? Is Christ's witnessing of love to be a genuine experience for some and just a memory for others? Is His witnessing limited to the historical Christ? All of mankind has been deeply influenced by the original fall and, as a consequence, all are marked with the scar of unbelief---unbelief especially in a God of love. To remedy this situation, it is not sufficient that one know of goodness, but that one actually experience goodness, that one meet goodness in an existential way. This means that i[ Christ's witnessing of true love was in-tended for the whole world--and it was--it is necessary that somehow the whole world be given the advantage of experiencing Christ in a way which goes beyond knowing of Him. One must experience true love as the first Christians did. In the world of the here and now, the historical Christ cannot a~hieve this. That which the historical Christ did for those who could experience Him, the risen Christ must now continue in time and place that all may have the privilege of per-sonally experiendng true love and come thereby to believe in the reality of a God of love. This is the mission of the Church. The Church Thanks to the renewal of ecclesiology in recent years, and, more specifically, thanks to the great work of Vatican II, the Church has become more clearly aware of herself and of her mission, which mission is one and the same as the mission of Christ. The Church must preach the Gospel. To spread the "good news," how-ever, it is not su~cient to preach of Christ--to remind the People of the "historical" Christ. To be sure, they must be keenly aware of the great event of Christ, but the Church must do more than remind the world of Christ. Such a knowlege is not an experiential knowl-edge and cannot counteract the world's experience of selfishness. The Church must, like Christ, give this mod-ern world the experience which Christ gave to those who met Him in Palestine--the Church must give to all who know her and meet her the experience of true selfless love, of a love that seeks only to give. This world, like all men of all times, is a wounded world and in dire need of personally experiencing true and genuine selfless goodness. Without such an experience, this world will not easily believe in God. The Church must make God credible by her total self-giving. Considering the actual situation of fallen man, she will not convince him that love is a reality without an actual self-empty-ing in the very act of love. What has been said of Christ as witness applies also to the Church. Indeed, through the Church, it is the risen Christ who continues His witnessing of love. It is Christ Himself who con-tinues to live on in His Church; it is Christ, therefore, who continues through the Church to make God credi-ble to the world at an existential level. The Church can hide the face .of GOd by not willingly accepting its tremendbus mission of total self-emptying for others. It must be emphasized that all Christians are caught up in this mission of making God credible by witnessing love and selfessness to a world suspicious of love. Every Christian must be willing to love the other,, receiving nothing in return, and, if necessary, losing what he has in order to more clearly demonstrate to this world the reality of love. No doubt there are, within the Church, different' charismatic vocations concerning thi~ witness-ing of God's love. All, however, are committed to .wit-ness .love wherever they are and in whate~;er activity they are involved. ,' ' ' . VOLUME 27° 1968 " 205 Rene H. Chabot, MS. REVIEW FeR RELIGIOUS Religious It is only within this context of the Church as a wit-ness of the selfless love of God that one can truly appreciate and understand the meaning and richness of religious life. The religious must be a witness of love--an outstanding witness. To be an outstanding witness to a fallen world, the religious must love with a selbemptying love, that is, he must actually not re-ceive and even lose what he has in the very act of loving. This explains why a religious must live a truly self-emptying way of life. As seen in the historical ob-servation of Christ's life, next to martyrdom, the greatest self-emptying and, therefore, the clearest witness of pure love, is the life of virginity. All three vows are meant to help the religious witness love in a most beautiful way to the fallen world, but, above all, the vow of chastity does so. In order, therefore, for a religious to understand his particular way of life, and more es-pecially his life of virginity and identification with the poor, he must at all costs understand that he is first of all for others and must witness to them in an "outstand-ing" way the reality of God's love. This presup-poses, then, that he has understood the existential sit-uation of modern man, of fallen humanity. His wit-nessing cannot be in the abstract, but, rather, to man as he exists. Man as he exists is self-centered. He must experience true love by meeting people who love in such a way that they receive nothing in return, and, if love so demands, lose what is theirs by right in the act of loving. The religious is one who is called to witness this self-emptying love in a unique manner-- especially and more clearly through a life of chastity. To the extent that the Church and religious are faith-ful to their vocation and mission, to that same extent will God be made credible. The opposite is also true, for to the extent that they fail to live out their voca-tion, to that same extent also will they "have more than a little to do with the birth of atheism., and conceal the authentic face of God and religion" (The Church in the Modern World, n. 19). .Only when unbelief encounters love will the death of atheism take plac.e, only then will its ugly head be crushed, never again to cryu"Th~re is no God." This meeting will some day take place, for man, in whom unbelief exists, was created by and for the One who is love. It is inevitable that their paths should cross. The "heirs of the kingdom" must do all in their power to insure that this meeting takes place here below. Christ is their power, and through them the sign which He came to give must shine forth for all to see. They must be persevering in their efforts, for encounter might even be delayed until the "eleventh hour." Atheism ~,ill not die without a battle. Its greatest opponent will be the living proof, given by the historical Christ and continued in the risen and mystical Christ, that love without any strings attached, a love that is willing even to cut off the last thread of life to prove its sincerity, has existed in the past and continues to exist here and now. ÷ ÷ VOLUME 27, 1968 2O7 SISTER JOANN OTTENSTROER, P.B.V.M. A Position Paper on a Functional Approach to Silence One of the common elements to be found in the rules of the various religious orders in the Church down through history is silence. Today when each aspect of religious life is being rethought in the light of the modern milieu it seems right that silence should also be reexamined. In many areas of religious living modern needs and changing circumstances demand a different emphasis or viewpoint than have been used in the past. It has been suggested by Donald L. Gelpi, S.J., that this new approach should be a functional one, that is, one which has a practical purpose in mind. It is possible to apply this idea of functionalism to silence. In exploring this possibility the most fundamental starting point is Scripture. A scriptural view of silence reveals the most basic rea-son for silence, that of providing an atmosphere con-ducive to a deep personal relationship with God. In the 01d Testament silence of itself does not stand out as a theme. It is always related to prayer or awe of the Almighty. Instead of being commanded to keep silence the Israelites are often commanded to speak: "Take to + heart these words which I enjoin on you today. Drill + them into your children. Speak of them at home and ÷ abroad, whether you are busy or at rest" (Dt 6:67). Sister Joann O~- Silence in the life of Christ is also related to His tenstroerisaf~u.'ul~ periods of prayer: "And when he had dismissed the rnernb~ of Sacred crowd, he went up the mountain by himself to pray" Heart School; Aber-deen, South Dakota (Mr 14:23). "Now it came to pass in those days, that he 57401. '. , " ¯ went out to the mountain to pray and continued all REVlW¢ r0R~EL*e.n1i0gUhSt iwnh penra Cyherri stto f eGlto tdh"e (nLeekd 6 f:o1r 2s)il.e Intc cea Hne b wei tnhodtriecwed f rtohmat 208 those around Him. He did not impose His need for silence upon others but rather showed them by His example that a man needs frequent periods of time alone with his God if he is to learn to know and love Him in a deep, personal way. The few times when it is specifically recorded that Christ kept silence in the presence of others He was using it as a rebuke or a seeming rebuke. This can be seen in His refusal to answer Pilate and Herod: "But Jesus gave him no answer" (Jn 19:9). Now he put many questions to him, but he made him no answer" (Lk 23:9). The Canaanite woman certainly felt this rebuke as Christ tested her faith: "He answered her not a word" (Mr 15:23). So also did the men who had accused the adulteress while forgetting their own guilt. The appli-cation of this use of ~silence to the life of a Christian would of necessity be rare since the all-pervading spirit of a Christian, as it is of Christ, is love and joy, not rebuke. When Christ speaks of the use of the tongue it is mainly an encouragement of the correct use of speech, to praise God, to greet all not just friends (Mt 5:47), to preach the good news; or it is a warning against the misuse of speech. Thus He warns: "But I tell you, that of every idle word men speak, they shall give account on the day of judgment. For by your words you will be justified, and by your words you will be cbndemned (Mt 12:36-7). It would not be correct to conclude from this warning that Christ expected His followers to abandon the use of their tongue in order to avoid idle words. A more logical conclusion would be that He expected His followers to use their speech to communicate the spirit of brotherhood which He had given them. As Sister Rose Alice, s.s.J., has said: "Perhaps we need to be reminded that nothing is idle which conduces to charity." 1 Like their Master the writers of the Epistles encourage the proper use of speech and warn against its misuse: "Let no ill speech proceed from your mouth, but what-ever is good for supplying what fits the current necessity, that it may give grace to the hearers" (Eph 5:29). "Let the word of Christ dwell in you abundantly: in all wisdom teach and admonish one another by psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs, singing in your hearts to God by his grace" (Col 3:16). "Out of the same mouth proceed blessing and cursing. These things, my brothers ought not to be so" (Jas 3:2). James fully recognizes the. difficulties which a Christian encounters as he tries to live out this positive use of his speech to bring joy rather than pain to others. However, 1Sister Rose Alice, s.s.J., "On the Art of Small Talk," REWEW FOR RELIGIOUS, V. 23 (1964), p. 766. + + + Alflrroach to Silence VOLUME 27, 1968 SistePr~ ]Boa.Vnn~I. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS it do~s not seem that he wants his fellow Christians to de.spair of ever suc.ceeding in this task and to lapse into negative silence. The attitude toward silence which reveals itself in the Scriptures is ~a positive one o[. using silence as a more direct and conscious awareness of one's relati6nship with God. It does not mean a cutting~6ff of the positive use of speech to share this. awareness and its consequent joy with others. Scriptural silence callg for a control of one's tongue whenever speech will wound another person or betray the spirit of ~Jnity and love which Christ wills His followers to share with those they meet as they live their daily lives. Thus from the Scriptures it can be seen that silence and speech complement each'othe~ 'silence pro-viding an atmosphere~ f6r personal contact with God and speech providing a sharing of the results of this contact when the' Christian is again in the presence of other persons. This positive attitude to'ward silence which is found in the Scriptures can also be found in the history of the rules of ~silence and the place of ~ilence in religious o~ders as they developed in the life of thd Church. At times it may seem that ~t more negative, approach, of silence for its own sake,'had darkened this'httitude in the early religious communities' but /~ more Chreful study shows that basically the idea of silence as a functional means to union with'God was never lost. The first religious had as their main purpose a per-sonal union with God acquired by. withdraw!rig from the World of sin in a physical, and mental way, Thomas Merton points oht how° these monks differ frdm other religious: "The monk is distinguished, even from other religious vocations by the fact that he is essentially and conclusivel~ dedicated to seeking God, rather than seek-ing souls for God." 2 Since St. Beiaedict's Rule has .bedn one of the greatest influences on later religious orders, it ma~y be used to show how silence was viewed at the beginning of monas-ticism and on through history. In the rule of St. Benedict these quotations about silence may be found: Chapter 6 of Silence. Let us act in .conformity with that say-ing of the Prophet: 'I have set a guard.to my mouth; I was dumb and Was humbled and kept silence from good things.' Here the prophet shows that if we ought at times for the sake of silence to refrain even from good'words, much more ought we to abstain from words on account of the punishment due to sin. Therefore, on account of the importance of silence, let permission to speak be rarely given even to the perfect disciples, even thougli their" words be good' and holy and conducive to edification because it is written: 'In the multitude s Thomas Merton, The Silent L~fe (New York: Farrar, Cudahy and Strauss, 1957), p. viii. of words there shall not want sin,' and elsewhere: 'Death and life are in the power of the tongue.' 'For to speak and to teach are the province of the master, whereas that of the disciple is to be silent and ligten. Therefore; if anything is to be asked of the superior, let' it be done with all humility and subjection of reverence lest one seem to speak more than is expedient. Buffoonery, however, or idle words or such as move to laughter we utterly condemn in every place, and forbid the disciple to open his mouth to any such discourse? That No One May Speak After Compline. Monks ought to have a zeal for silence, at all times, but especially during the hours of the night and this should hold at all times, whether on days of fasting or othbi" days., and on ,coming out from Compline no one shall bb allowed thereafter to speak to any-one. But if one be found"~o have violated this rule' of silence, let him be subjected to severe punishment--unless the presence of guests make it necessary, or perhaps the Abbot should give one a command. But even.this must be done becomingly and with all gravity and mo.d~rfition.' The most profound silence shall be kept at table so that the whispering or voice of no one save that of the reader ~lone be heard. The brethren will so help'each other, to what is neces-sary as regards food and drink that no one may have need to ask for anything. Should however something be required, let it be asked for by means of Some sign rather thanby words. Let no one ask any question there ConCerning What is being read or anything else, lest occasion be given to ~e Evil One, unless perhaps the superior should wish to say something briefly for the edification of the brethren? The idea of silence which emerges from these quota-tions is one of absolute; complete silence within :the monastery. How did' silence~ come ' to be h~ld as" such an important, discipline 1~3;' St. Benedict? First '6f all, it must be understood that Benedict presupposed that the ob-servance of external silence would bring the desired union with God. If he were questioned m6re about it, iv is likely ~that he would answer as Thomas Merton has: Monastic solitude, poverty, obedience, silence and p~a~er dispose the soul for this mysterious destiny in "God. Asceticism itself does not produce divine union as its direct result. It only disposes the soul for union. When ascetic practices are misused, they serve only to fill the monk with himself and to harden his heart in resistance to grace? Secondly, it must°be kept "in mind that the withdrawal from the world of men was basic to the life of a monk. This cannot be said of modern, active rell~ious. As one looks back to what the early Church fathers hav~ said about silence it may seem that the~ too praise silence for its'own sake as if it alone could produce a true spiritual life. "Where the severity of silence is strictly observed, religion thrives most commendably The Holy Rule o/ Our Most Holy Father Saint Benedict (St. Meinrad: Abbey Press, 1937), p. 25-6. Ibid, p. 68-9. Ibid, p. 64. Merton, The Silent Li~e, pp. 3--4. Approach Silence VOLUME 27, 1968 211 ÷ Sister ]oann, P .B. V .M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS and fully" (John Gerson, chancellor of Paris).¢ How-ever, here again these men presupposed a purposeful use of silence. This is shown in many other examples of thoughts on silence from men of the early Church. "For it is in vain that the tongue remains silent unless the spirit addresses itself to God" (Cardinal John Bona, Cistercian).s "Silence is an excellent thing, in fact, it is nothing other than the mother of the wisest thought" (St. Diadochus).O "Speak, if you have something to say that is better and more excellent than silence. But when it is more advisable to be still rather than to speak, embrace silence" (St. Gregory of Nazianzus).1° "For it is written: 'A wise man is silent till the right time comes' (Sir 20:6), that is to say, when he sees it opportune to speak what is fitting, he sets aside the rigorous observance of silence and directs his effort to be of assistance" (St. Gregory the Great).11 As time went on, the living out of the Rule of Benedict began to change. The primitive observance of labor, obscurity, and solitude came into contact with the urban monasticism of the cities. These monks or canons of the city existed only to furnish choirs for the great Roman basilicas. From these two groups one emerged in which the liturgy was their whole life. "The offices 'became longer, liturgical, ceremonies were added, work was curtailed or ceased to exist, and the monk became in-tensely conscious of his function as one deputed to carry out with solemnity the public worship of the Church." 12 Shortly after the death of St. Benedict his monks be-came missionaries. However, even as they became more active they cl'ung to the original purpose of the primitive order, that of withdrawing from men to approach God dire~ctly. "The monks had been chosen for the work of spreading the Christian faith and preserving what could be preserved of Roman order and culture. But their vocation was to remain, as it had always been, essen-tially contemplative, sedentary and silent." 13 It is not until later in history when such people as Vincent de Paul, Angela Merici, and Nano Nagle ap-pear, that one finds religious orders whose purpose has changed from that of the primitive monks. Of course they still seek a personal union with God but now it is through other people, not by withdrawal from them. Each of these founders saw that the rules of the earlier 7Maurus Walter, O.S.B., The Principles of Monasticism (St. Louis: Herder, 1962), p. 71. s Ibid, p. 70. s Ibid, p. 67. 10 Ibid, p. 63. 11 Ibid, p. 72. m Thomas Merton, The Silent Life, p. fig. la Ibid, p. 70. monastic orders would not fit his group. Each struggled to keep his community free from the observances which would cut it off from the People of God with whom they wished to work. Yet these rules had become so rigid that in order to survive at all, the founders were forced to accept what they so desperately opposed. Only centuries later, when secular institutes appeared, did anyone succeed in establishing a religious group without taking on all the rules of early monasticism. If this desire to escape monastic rules were applied to silence, it would no doubt be seen that, while silence would certainly be necessary for prayer and personal re-evaluation in any apostolic religious group, so also would the correct use of speech be necessary. Such extremes as condemning what causes laughter or using sign language would not be considered proper for a group working directly with other people. As history continues to unfold, perhaps the most not-able change in mankind is the rate of this change. Devel-opments which once took centuries now happen in a few years. The multitude of new facts, ideas, and situa-tions is fabulous and ever growing. To handle these changes and integrate them in a meaningful way man has seen the need for better communication. Both mass media and small group discussions have been brought to bear on this problem of rapid change. Vatican II has considered communication important enough to issue a decree on it. This is one aspect of the world in which modern religious groups find themselves. Thus, for religious use also, communication becomes ever more important. If their purpose is union with God through God's people living today, then they too must know how to communicate and integrate the vast number of new ideas and situations which confront them. They must look at silence and find its essence. They cannot tolerate accidentals which belong to another age and serve an-other purpose. Since it can safely be said that "silence is not classified as a virtue, but it is the atmosphere in which virtues develop," 14 it follows that it is possible for this atmos-phere to fail to produce the desired virtue. There are other elements in any given situation which can make silence destructive instead of productive. This is recog-nized even by authors who have devoted an entire chapter or article to the praise of silence. There is usually included a warning against the misuse of silence: "Care must be taken not to use obligatory silence as a cloak for a silence willingly practiced to spurn a neigh-bor for real or imagined injury. There is not only no 1~ Luis M. Martinez, Only Jesus (New York: Herder and Herder, 1962), p. 36. ÷ ÷ + Approach to Silence VOLUME 27, 1968 ÷ ÷ + Sister $oann, P.B.V.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS merit in this type of silence, but it can actually be sin-ful." 1~ "The manner in which religious silence is some-. times practiced causes one to Wonder whether the whole matter is at all feasible. At one time silence in a con-vent or monastery or seminary appears to be a cold indifferent rudefiess. At another it seems to offer a nega-tion as answer to real human needs: the need to share with a special friend or the need to unburden oneself to another. Surely, if religious silence meant this kind of thing it would be incompatible with the second greatest precept, a warm sympathetic understanding love of our brother or sister." le Perhaps the most obvious danger of silence is the tendency to use it as a cloak to diguise selfishness. It is very easy to become so involved in one's own work and concerns that other people do not matter. Silence be-comes a convenient way to avoid getting involved with others. In many cases the effort required to say something encouraging or cheerful to a sister one meets is much greater than simply not speaking to the sister. Often this silence is simply an ignoring of even the thought that this sister might' be in need of a friendly word from someone. Getting involved in the problems of another will demand time. It is much more simple to just keep silence. God will help the sister if she needs help. But the fact which is forgotten is that God will use the lips, heart, and mind of another person to bring the aid of which the sister is in need. One author has made this attitude clear by using this example: Those who have enjoyed the gift of ill-health will remember vividly their return, after a long absence, to their religious house. More than the uncarpeted floors, and perhaps the hard bed, the thing that impresses most as different is the observance of silence. After the first greeting, people settle down to passing you in the corridor without the flickering of the eyelid; they look for no sign of recognition and give none. Rather they look through you . They will sit mute beside you at meals, mouths active only in the intake of calories. During the previous weeks it would have been considered ill mannered to ignore a nurse or doctor or patient, and might have caused comment on the aloofness or snobbery of religious. In a lay community of any kind, even if your intention were to save people from boredom or embarrassment or waste of time, they would interpret your behavior as unfriendly and resent it . Now, ina religious house we develop a flair for ignoring each other. We have chosen to absolve each other from the necessity of speaking whenever we meet; indeed we oblige ourselves not to speak for long periods of the day.1~ 1~ Rev. Charles Hugo Doyle, Little Steps to Great Holiness (West-minster: Newman,. 1956), p. 256; ~OThomas Dubay, S:M., "Silence and Renewal," REw~w FOR RELX~;~OUS, V. 15 (1956), p. 93. l~Michael Sweetman, S.J., "Silence," R~vmw Fog RELm~ous, v. 22 (1963), p. 450. A second danger of too much silence is a retarding of interpersonal relationships which are necessary for each person if he is to become more fully human. In religious life one important task is the building of a real com-munity. To do this each sister must get to know the other sisters with whom she lives to a more than superficial depth: This union demands that religious discover and love each other in their individuality, that they be aware of the needs of others, that they seek the interests of others and appreciate those with whom they live. Only in so doing do the members discover and become themselves. There is required a spirit of openness and honesty among the members in order to effect this personal contact as opposed to the individual being wrapped up in self as an isolated unit in an aggregate.~ Just as in a family, unity in religious" life breaks down when the members do not communicate with each other: Building family trust is a big, big job. And the toughest ~aart is learning to talk things out. Without talking, few milies can get along well. The members can't really under-stand family hopes and problems unless they have been dis-cussed.~ If this is true of families which are united by blood and common background, it certainly would be more true in a group with varying backgrounds which wishes to form a common uniting bond of understanding and love. This type of deep relationship cannot be acquired with-out much time given to real communication between the persons involved. The opportunity for such com-munication has not been provided for religious in the past: The personal relationship that has been characteristic of the religious' relationship to Almighty God has almost fenced her off from communicating with her fellow religious. Outside of stylized and formalized recreation, certainly among religious women, there is very little opportunity to sit down and talk things over.= Some of the attitudes religious now have toward talk-ing in order to establish a personal relationship with another sister must be changed if this misuse of silence is to be overcome. A deeper level of communication is often reached through small talk: "It has been a common experience among college teachers that small talk with their stud- ~sWilliam F. Hogan, C~S.C., "Community Life, an Event," Sisters Today (1966), p. 356-7. :tJim Carroll, "Let's Start Talking," Witness, v. 3 (April 23, 1967), p. 8. =John J. Evoy and Van F. Christoph, Maturity in the Religious Li/e, New York: Sheed and Ward, 1965, p. 230. ÷ ÷ ÷ A~oo~h to Silence VOLUME 27, 4. 4. 4. Sister Joann, P.B.V.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 216 ents often paves the way for some very serious talk." 21 "Yet it [small talk] will always be other-oriented, not naive prattle, but the practical expression of that socia-bility which can be described as 'patient, kind, seeking not its own, not puffed up.' " 22 An appreciation and respect for the kind of communication which builds real personal relationship and thus a community of united persons must be developed in order to make silence purposeful rather than a destructive force. Another situation in which maintaining silence would be damaging is in failing to give a concrete expression to one's ideas and opinions. A person's thoughts on any given subject are tested and either strengthened or modified by exposing them to the criticism of others: Those in charge of religious, particularly at the beginning of their training, should reflect that the religious who finds that she is isolated constantly and must do practically all her thinking alone, and does not have a chance really to com-municate with others, is going to be deprived of a richness which is there, if only permitted and encouraged.= Now it is true that each of them presumably thinks re-peatedly about many important things in her meditation and other prayers. But her significant thinking must also in large ~reaqrut ebnet wopipthoirntu an istoiecsi atol ccoomntmexutn. iAca tree.l~igious should be given Training in communicating ideas would be needed for all religious, but especially for those who came from families in which there was little discussion or sharing of ideas. These people would need to be led to see the value of such sharing as well as how to carry it out: But it may be objected, is it so necessary that everyone ex-press himself at the group, meetin. .g? Surely the Sister who says nothing during an entire d~scuss~on does not seem to be par-ticipating to the full, but she may help very much by her presence and encouraging demeanor. True her presence may do much for the atmosphere, but effort is needed if she is to express herself, to voice her agreement, or the lack of it--all these call for the inter-functioning of body, intellect, will, and emotions: for integrated self-activity. The result of such effort is an enhancement of the self--and benefit to her and all those who hear her. The chance to give an opinion, be it ever so brief, to express her views, places her in a condition of openness and dialogue with others, while silent consent can never reproduce such a state. The prudence, kindliness, discre-tion, and frankness which such expression of opinion will elicit from her will develop her personality and give her inmost thoughts in concrete form. Moreover, she has the some-times new experience of having her opinion taken seriously, received with respect, and given consideration by her peers. Again, this is enrichment; community is being fashioned. In the warmth of give and take her ideas are multiplied, Sister Rose Alice, "On the Art of Small Talk," p. 766. Ibid. Thomas Dubay, "Silence and Renewal," p. 231. Thomas Dubay, "Silence and Renewal," p. 2~0. broadened, and deepened. Ramifications she never dreamt of are now added to her stock of ideas and impressions on the subject. She begins to "experience community" through the gift of her speech-attempts, through the gift of herself to the gro.up; and the group's acceptance of her continues the ex-perience in their lives as well.~ Since sisters today are expected to be able to think for themselves and form their own opinions, it is absolutely necessary that they be given frequent opportunities to clarify their ideas by sharing them with others. Only then will their opinions be strong but still flexible enough to meet other opinions and produce worthwhile results. It is obvious that something which has been valued as highly as silence has been for so many centuries must have many valuable uses which counteract the dangers involved. The first use of silence, which has already been mentioned in the scriptural and historical development of silence, is that of prayer: "The positive reason for silence is, of course, to give ourselves a chance to find God and live in his presence/' 26 If prayer is considered as a conversation with God, needed to develop a deep personal relationship, then it can be seen that much time must be spent in this conversation just as much time is needed to develop deep human relationships. Just as in human love, after the relationship has been developed silence itself can communicate: "When love has reached a high degree words are not necessary. Silence becomes a form of communication." 27 By the very fact that prayer is an expression of a per-sonal relationship with God it will vary greatly with each person in the kind, the amount, and the place of this expression. It would be supposed that the union needs daily strengthening if it is to continue todevelop. Each religious should be free to take the periods of silence she needs to engage in prayer. It should not be necessary to set up strict legislation on this matter. When a sister withdraws from the company of others to the chapel, her own room, or a quiet place outdoors a mutual charity among the rest of the community should allow her the silence she needs. However, she should not expect to impose on the other sisters her need for silence at any given time. A mutual understanding and reasonable-ness on each side is needed. It seems logical to expect that each sister who has professed a desire for an intimate union with God would feel the need for a reasonable portion of each day to be spent in loving conversation with Him. Another activity which needs frequent periods of ~nSister Gertrude Joseph Donnelly, C.S.J.O., The Sister Apostle, (Notre Dame: Fides, 1964), p. 42. ~ Michael Sweetman, "Silence," p. 431. ~ Luis M. Martinez, Only Jesus, p. 36. ÷ ÷ ÷ Approach to Silence ~/OLUME 27, 1968 4. SistePr~ ].oVa~nnI., REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS silence is reading. Related to this is serious study of new views and ideas as they appear on the world scene: "It [silenCe] provides the only possible atmosphere for serious study." 2s .As the profusion of worthwhile books and magazines continues to grow, each sister should feel a corresponding growth in the need to take more and more time to read. This demands periods of silence. A sister who lacks the self-discipline to provide increased time for reading and study or who does not realize the need for such study cannot expect to be able to have an intelligent understanding of the world around her. Nor will she be able to appreciate the renewal taking place within the Church and her religious community. This use of silence for intellectual growth is becoming in-creasingly important to religious life today. A use of silence which has a great effect on the moral and spiritual development of the person is the re-evalua-tion of himself. This might be thought of as examina-tion of congcience but actually it should be much broader. Included in the evaluation should be the goals to be reached, the means used to reach the goal, as well as neglects or failings in using the means. This type of evaluation would not need lengthy, daily times of silence but rather a few minutes a day with longer periods on days of recollection and retreats. The person who fails to reevaluate himself periodically is very likely to become too rigid in his attitudes and ways of doing things. He runs the risk of becoming irrelevant since the circum-stances in which he must strive for his goals are con-stantly changing, thus requiring him to change his re-sponse also. Silence is a~so needed for the carrying out of most creative activities. One who is fortunate enough to have the ability to see the things around him in a uniquely perceptive way needs times of silence in order to produce an expression of his experiences through which they can be shared with others. If he is not allowed these times of leisure and quiet the community to which his works would have been presented is impoverished by this loss. Whether the creative person expresses himself through poetry, prose, painting, music, or in other ways matters little. What is of importance is the greater insight into rea~lity which those who share in his creations come to possess. Religious who are expected to be aware of the sl~iritual aspect oLlife should value highly these expres-sions of the spirit of things. Religious communities should provide opportunities for these creations to hap-pen. This requires that each sister show respect for the need of the creative sister for periods of silence not needed by other sisters. Michael Sweetman, "Silence," p. 432. Somewhat related to creative activity is the aesthetic appreciation of art and culture in its various forms. This also frequently requires a type of silence. Serious music cannot be fully experienced if other noises interfere. WatChing serious or cultural television programs loses much of its value if it is frequently interrupted by talk-ing or other noises. It often happens that the insight gained by exposure to a particular art expression or a fascinating idea produces an inability to express the new insight until it has been integrated into the person receiving it. Respect for this period of inarticulation should be shown by those who may not, for a. variety of reasons, have felt this experience. Again since sisters are expected to be cultured, they should automatically perceive situations in which silence is called for in order to provide the spirit with the quiet needed for apprecia-tion. This would be true even if the sister herself had a low level of appreciation since consideration for others present should be shown. Possibly the lower level of cultural appreciation could be. raised by more frequent exposure to cultural events. Another very important type of silence is the receptive silence needed for listening. From all sides the cry for the need to listen is heard. Certainly this is also a need in religious communities where persons are striving for unity with each other to provide an example for the rest of mankind. There can be no real community with-out real listening. The religious who is able to listen to the real message her sisters are communicating to her and who is able to respond to their needs in an in-dividual way without passing judgment is invaluable to her community. It can be seen that the functional uses of silence are many. If a religious intends to satisfy the various needs which call for some type of silence she must look at her personal life and decide when, where, and how much silence she should have. Since each individual in a community does not need the same amount or kind of silence, what kind of legisla-tion should there be in the rules of religious orders con-cerning silence? It may be helpful to consider the article on silence as it now appears in the Constitutions of the Presentation Sisters to see if it promotes functional silence. Article 121 of the Modified Articles of the Con-stitution calls for silence after evening recreation, "dur-ing the time when not actively engaged in assigned duties or at recreation," 29 and at meals. Each of these will be discussed separately. / ~ ModiIied Articles of the Constitutions oI the Congregation ol the Sisters of the Presentation of the Blessed Virgin MaT, May 1, 1966, p. 5. VOLUME 27, 1968 ÷ ÷ Sister ~oann, P.B.V.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~o The value of silence at meals is being questioned more and more: "We have to re-evaluate the pattern of so much silence connected with eating in religious com-munities. Eating is a social activity." a0 The social aspect of a meal is hard to miss. Usually it is one of the few times the religious community is together. It is an opportunity to begin the personal relationships which later can be deepened by more intimate and serious conversation. The value of the reading done at table can also be questioned. As Fathers Evoy and Christoph have, said, the reading is often merely tolerated or if someone is trying to listen he is distracted by the clatter of dishes, a poor reader, or the eating itself. Their comment on silence at lunch can also be applied to meals: If I have to stand up and just eat in silence, it breeds this attitude: "You are in the world, and I am in the world. Don't interrupt me. Don't disturb me. I am communicating with God." But I am not. I am just dying to say somethingmsome-thing worthwhile.= Possibly the effort required to develop good table con-versation would require much more self-discipline and unselfishness than keeping silence. Many sisters need practice in the art of general conversation. Table discus-sions could provide for this practice. The practice of night silence is an example of a regu-lation which belongs to another age: Again, it is a matter of suiting the need of the times. Sisters, there was a time in this country and in Europe when after evening recreation the whole day was over, and the great silence started. This was sensible because the Superior did not want the Sisters just chatting away all evening, and they really h~d little else to do. Ours is another age.a-" The milieu of today is very much orientated toward evening activities. Most culture events and many meet-ings take place in the evening. The stress and tension of the day's work just begin to lessen in the evening. The increased demands of modern life as compared to medie-val life must be considered: These create tensions which require more than just occa-sional breaks from the common order, or we are going to go berserk . I think we should take another look at some of the strictures that are made on our so-called "breaking of silence." = With the ever increasing need for discussion of new ideas and re-evaluation of the old, as well as an increased need for communication in order to develop deeper rela- =John 'J. Evoy and Van F. Christoph, Maturity in the Religious ¯ LiIe, p. 279. = Ibid, p. 278. m Ibid, p. 303. m Ibid, p. 303. tionships among religious, more time must be found in which to satisfy these needs: Your leisure should be able to provide you with opportunity, at least, for a "gab session." You should be able to com-municate, because there are many areas in which you cannot think richly and productively unless you are communicating with other persons.~' When we get together,it is in recreation or in silence or in prayers. The recreation is too formalized at times even to be recreating so we need that freedom to talk. to fellow religious as long as we are not gossiping.~ The only opportunity for this kind of talking often comes after nine o'clock. Instead of legislating a time for night silence, a silence of discretion and of charity should be kept. This would mean a consideration for those who have already retired as well as those doing work needing silence. In order to provide a reorientation of the complete person directly to God at the close of the day, Compline and preparation for morning meditation could be made privately by each sister before she goes to bed. The counsel to observe silence at all times when not active in assigned duties or recreation seems to be the antithesis of functional silence. It does not take into ac-count the freedom of speech which is necessary for the mature growth of the sister into a person able to express herself in a charitable, intellectual, and cultural way. Instead it seems to oblige silence for the sake of silence and presupposes that absolute silence is needed for rec-ollection. As religious communities mature and individual reli-gious are made more and more responsible for their own actions there should be less need for legislation on silence. It should be possible to educate the sisters in the value and functional use of silence rather than to legislate the times and places of silence. If a group feels the need for definite regulations these should be decided on a local level. In speaking of her ideal community Judith Tare says: "But there are no set periods for prescribing silence in this ideal community. Loving awareness of the needs of others, particularly at night, provides the guidelines for that kind of quiet." 36 There will always be those who will be too immature or negligent to take the responsibility for silence themselves. However, the regulations set up for the whole community should not be made just to protect these people. If this is done the community as a whole will fail to reach the higher level of maturity of which the majority of the members are capable. 3~ Ibid, p. 277-8. an Ibid, p. 231. ~Judith Tate, O.S.B., Sisters [or the World (New York: Herder and Herder, 1966), p. 127. + Approach to Silence VOLUME 27, 1968 22] As stated in the title of this paper, an attempt has been made to present one position or view on silence. It seems to be a position which has. basis .in Scripture and history as well as one suited to modem life. If there are some who hold another view of silence it is hoped that they will be willing to present their ideas, keeping in mind what the Council fathers have said about lawful div~er.siiy: "Hence, let there be unity in what is necessary, freedom in what is unsettled, and charity in any case." aT If this can be done then each sister no matter what her views may be, will be able to follow the recommendation of St. Paul: "Whatever you do in word or in work, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him" (Col 3:17). ~ Walter Abbott, s.J., The Documents "o1 Fatica~ H New York: Guild Press, 1966, p. 306~ ÷ ÷ ÷ SistePr.B ]o.Fan.Mn,. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 222 THOMAS DHBAY, S.M. Indwelling Transfiguring Consummation Any* living being is best appreciated in its final com-pletion. The rose plant does. not. fully enchant the eye as it grows through its six-inch stage but only as it blooms with scarlet exuberance. The dignity of the hu-man person is not entirely apparent at the age of two months but only when a fullness of days has brought wisdom and virtue. ,The indwelling mystery in the newly baptized infant is a subject worthy of reflection, but it is far more impressive when considered in the contemplative mystic. This we have already studied: But even the contemplation ot earth, unspeakable as it is, is but a dim prelude of the final issue of the divine inhabitation when the abiding Guests shall be seen face to face. St. Paul's description of supernatural wisdom as surpassing man's wildest imagination is especially relevant to the indwelling of the beatific vision: "Eye has not seen or ear heard, nor has it entered into the heart of man, what things God has prepared for those who love him." 1 Indwelling Vision In a definition both simple find majestic Benedict XII declared that the souls of the blessed "see the divine essence by an intuhive and'even facial vision without the intermed~ation of any creature acting as a seen principle. Rather they see the divine nature showing it-self unveiled, clearly, openly. By this vision they enjoy the divine essence, and from this vision and fruition ¯ Previous articles in this series were published in REWEW FOE RELIC~OUS, v. 26 (1967), pp. 203--30 ("Indwelling God: Old Testament Preparation'); pp. 441-60 ("Interindwelling: New Testament Com-pletion'); pp.632-50 ("Indwelling Dynamism'); pp. 910-38 ("Eu-charist, Indwelling, Mystical Body'); pp. 1001-23 ("Indwelling Sum-mit'); and v, 27 (1968), pp. 21-45 ("Virginal Temples'). 1 1 Cot 2:9. Thomas Dubay, S.M., is a faculty member of Mary-crest College; Dav-enport, Iowa; ad-dress: Box 782; Bettendorf, Iowa 52722. VOLUME 27, 1968 223 4. 4. Thomas Dubay S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS their souls are truly happy." 2 The Council of Florence taught .that the souls of the blessed see the very inner life of the Trinity as such: "They gaze .clearly upon God, three and one, just as He is." 3 This clear, direct, open sight of the divine nature obviously implies the supreme perfection of the indwell-ing presence, for how could man gaze upon the Trinity with the mediation of no creature unless the divine es-sence were immediately present to his intellect? So true is this that Leo XIII said that the divine indwelling of earth differs from that of heaven "only in condition or state." 4 They are ~ubstantially the same mystery differ-ing as incomplete to complete, obscure knowledge to clear vision, interrupted love to continual love, imper-fect enjoyment to perfect enjoyment, bud to bloom. The Scriptural Account Before we explore the implications of these magiste-rial statements, we must first look into the biblical de-posit and note how all "the doctrinal essentials are al-ready contained in the divine self-revelation. Although many Scripture scholars hold (or did hold)5 that in the old dispensa.tion God did not as a matter of fact reveal the ultimate destiny of man, we are not doing violence to the ancient revelation in seeing old texts in the light of the new. If the Old Testament does not contain a revelation of the beatific vision, it at least contains a number of statements that are most fully realized only in our indwelling mystery of the patria.n The Book of Wisdom simply and gracefully describes the final blessedness of those who have suffered well on earth: The souls of the just are in the hand of God, and no torment shall touch them. They seemed, in the view of the foolish, to be dead; and their passing away was judged an affliction and their going forth from us, utter destruction. But they are in peace. For if before men, indeed, they be punished, yet is their hope full of immortality; chastised a littl.e, they shall be greatly blessed, because God tried them and found them worthy of himself. As gold in the furnace, he proved them, and as sacrificial offerings he took them to himself. The Lord shall be their king forever. The faithful shall abide with him in love.7 ~ DB 530. 8 DB 693. *"Haec autem mira coniunctio, quae suo nomine inhabitatio dicitur, conditione tantum seu statu ab ea discrepans qua caelites Deus beando complectitur." Divinum illud munus, Acta Sanctae Sedis, v. 29 (1896-1897), p. 653. ~ Recent discoveries at Urgarit strongly suggest that the beatific vision was as a matter of fact revealed to the Hebrews; see Dahood's discussion of the Psalms in the "Anchor Bible." 6Ps 15:11; 16:15; 35:9-10; 48:16. 7 Wis 3:1-9. The New Testament is brief and clear in its revela-tion of the indwelling presence of vision. We shall rise in our bodies because of the Spirit lodged within. "If the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you," declares St. Paul, "then he who raised Jesus Christ from the dead will also bring to life your mortal bodies because of his Spirit who dwells in you." s We are destined to be forever in the presence of the Trinity and to enjoy the very inner trinitarian life: "In my Fa-ther's house there are many mansions. Were it not so, I should have told you, because I go to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I am coming again, and I will take you to myself; that where I am, there you also may be. Father, I will that where I am, they also whom thou hast given me may be with me; in order that they may behold my glory, which thou hast given me. Well done, good and faithful servant; because thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will set thee over many; enter into the joy of thy master." 9 This presence and this joy imply a gazing upon the very face of God, knowing the divine essence face-to-face, clearly, just as it is: "Blessed are the clean of heart, for they shall see God. Now this is everlasting life, that they may know thee, the only true God, and him whom thou hast sent, Jesus Christ. We see now through a mirror in an obscure manner, but then face to face. Now I know in part, but then I shall know even as I have been known. Beloved, now we are the children of God, and it has not yet appeared what we shall be. We know that, when he appears, we shall be like to him, for we shall see him just as he is. And I heard a loud voice fro~ the throne say, 'Behold the dwelling of God with men, and he will dwell with them. And they will be his people, and God Himself will be with them as their God. And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes. And death shall be no more; neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain any more, for the former things have passed away.' " 10 All this shall be so splendid that we have nothing in this life with which to compare it: "Eye has not seen or ear heard, nor has it entered into the heart of man, what things God has prepared for those who love him." 11 Think, suggests Paul, of the most brilliant sunset you have ever seen--it is not like the wisdom of God. Re-call the most soothing melody you have ever heard--it 8 Rom 8:11. aJn 14:2-3; 17:24; Mt 25:21. ~ Mt 5:8; Jn 17:3; 1 Cor 13:12; 1 Jn 3:2; Apoc 22:3-5. u 1 Cot 2:9. The beatific vision is the culmination of all wisdom in the Christ economy. What is true o1~ obscurely seen wisdom on earth is all the more true of facial vision. ÷ ÷ ÷ Consummation VOLUME 27, 1968 225 Thomas Dubay $.M. REV~EWFOR REHG~OUS is nothing compared to the divine harmony. Imagine the most charming, innocent, pure maiden's face that has ever rejoiced your eye it is dullness next :to the splen-dor of what lies ahead. Yes, "eye has not seen or ear heard, nor has it entered into the heart of man, what things God has prepared for those who love him." Indwelling Presence We commonly say of a person who has just died that he has gone to God. Literally and in a bodily sense he has gone nowhere. We mean that his soul, released as it is from its union with the body, is no longer in time but in eternity. It has "gone" to its particular judgment "before God." This going before God is an appearing,: a manner of speaking, a metaphor. We are expressing a change in state by what is so familiar to us, a change in place. Except for the case of the risen body--for a body is in a place,---our expression, "going to heaven," means the possession of .the intuitive vision of the Trinity. If a man dies without the need of purgatory's cleansing, his . "going to heaven" is simply a dropping of the veil, a transformation from the state of the indwelling Trinity not seen to the state of the indwelling Trinity seen. The one presence continues from time into eternity, ~rom faith into clear knowledge, ta'om inchoate love and joy to consummate love and joy. The beatific vision is nothing other than the indwelling mystery in its final completion: an indwelling, but no longer a dark mystery. "God is love, and he who abides in love abides in God, and Gbd in him. When he appears, we shall be like ~o him, for we shall see him just as he'is," la that is, the triune God abiding in our s6uls. . A moment's reflection immediately shows why the beatific vision must involve an indwelling presence. As a matter of fact, the knowledge of the divine object in this facial vision must be closer to man than any other object he has ever known. Any knowledge requires the immaterial presence of the known within the knower. My knowledge of a tree demands an intentional, mental, representational presence of the tree in my mind. Other-wise I could not possibly know it. However, the tree is not present in "its material being. It remains itself in its own place, but at the same time it does take up an ideal presence in my imagination, and intellect. Knowledge demands a presence of the known object within the knower. In the beatific vision this knowledge.-demanding-pres-ence principle attains its perfect fulfillment, for God is ~ l'Jn 4:16; 3:2. immediately present in His own being without the aid of a representational idea to express Him. I know the tree through the aid of an idea expressing the tree, but no created idea can express God as He is in.'Himself. Any created idea, because created, must be more unlike God than like Him. He is infinite, never exhaustible; the idea is always finite, easily exhaustible. If the Trinity is known as it is, it must be by an idealess, immediate union with the human_ intellect. Because there can be no created idea between the human intellect and "the di-vine reality, the latter is more intimately present to man in .the beatific vision than anything man has ever known. It was St. Thomas' judgment that "no creature can come more close to God than in seeing His substance." la The beatific vision, therefore, is the indwelling pres-ence at its ultimate pinnacle. It is a presence singular, unique, ineffable. It is the maturation of the whole su-pernatural economy. We must, therefore, examine more closely this con-summation of our mystery. Essential Glory.: Vision , By what precisely does the soul possess the° Trinity in the facial presence of eternal life? All theologians agree that total essential glory consists in seeing, loving, and enjoying Father, Son, and Spirit, but they do not agree as to which of these three operation.s is the crucial one. St. Thomas held that the intellectual vision is flae es-sential act of glory because it is by knowing that man possesses God, and this knowing is the root reason he can also love and enjoy. Scotus held that the essential act is love because love is :the .most perfect of man's operations and unites him really and not merely inten-tionally with the beloved. Knowing in this view is merely a condition of love and joy. Aureolus placed the core of beatitude in delight because it is only by delight that man is completely satiated. Suarez plied a middle course in proposing that essential glory is a combina-tion of vision and the love of friendship. His reason was that both knowledge and love are needed for a perfect possession. And further, delight supposes both of them. We believe that the view of the Angelic, Doctor is the preferable, and that for several reasons. It seems to us that the dominant scriptural evidences point to vision as the root of our final glorification: "Blessed are the clean of heart, for they shall see. God. Now this is everlasting life, that they may know thee, the only true God. We see now through a mirror in an obscure manner, but then face to face. Now I-know ih part, but Summa contra Gentiles, 3, c.62, n.lO. 4" ÷ ÷ VOLUME'27, 1968 227 ÷ ÷ Thomas Duba~ $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS then I shall know even as I have been known. We know that, when he appears, we shall be like to him, for we shall see 'him just as he is." a4 The .basic theological reason behind this position points to knowledge as that by which the blessed possess God. Love and joy suppose the presence of the Trinity and it is by the intellectual act that this special pres-ence is effected. While we do not deny that love and delight are necessary to perfect happiness, we submit that their root must be vision, since one cannot love and enjoy what he does not know. Hence, the first root o~ essential glory itself must be the intuitive sight o[ Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Suarez' attempt at conciliation is commendable but inadequate. If intellect and will bear diverse relations to essential glory, they can hardly both be the root of it. Garrigou-Lagrange pointed to the weakness of the Suarezian view: Intelligence and will are two faculties, specifically distinct, and therefore unequal. The will is subordinated to the in-telligence which directs it. The will is carried on to a true real good, but only on condition that it follows the right judgment of the intellect, a judgment conformable to reality. We desire only what we know, and we do not rejoice except in a good which we possess. Joy does not constitute the possession, but presupposes the possession. Hence, intelligence and will are not equal in the possession of God. They arise in order, one after the other. By vision the soul possesses God. By love it enjoys Him, rests in Him, prefers Him to itself.1" Our faith on earth is so orientated to eventual vision that one who believes may be said already to possess final glory in its seed: "He who believes in the Son has everlasting file." 16 Just as faith is the first step in the divine encounter on earth, so is vision .the first root o[ its final completion in heaven. Light o[ Glory The sight of God in His intimate triune nature is so staggering an activity that no creature, no most lofty angel, no Mary even can by native power attain it. So truly does this God dwell in a light inaccessible that no wildest hope of man could grasp even a flickering spark of it. For He is "the blessed and only sovereign, the king of kings and lord of lords, who alone has immortality and dwells in light inaccessible, whom no man has seen or can see.17 If, then, man is to attain one day to the indwelling :*Mt 5:8; Jn 17:3; I Cor 13:12; I Jn 3:2. LiIe Everlasting, p. 221. X°Jn 3:36; see also Jn 5:24 and 6:47 for the same idea. Tim 6:15-6. consummation of direct sight, his intellect must neces-sarily be elevated above its utter native incapacity in order to be able to make the leap into infinite beauty. The gap between creature and Creator is limitless. Only God can bridge it. Only He can do something to the created intellect to make the intuitive vision possible. Only Light can cause light. What He does to the intel-lect theologians call the light of glory. And it is the light of glory that transforms the divine inhabitation from the realm of faith to that of vision. Sacred Scripture furnishes a basis for our theological speculations. Although we cannot confidently hold that the ancient Hebrew knew much about the beatific vi-sion, we can assert that he said many things that fit this vision as a glove fits a hand. Among his remarks we may single out as singularly appropriate here the words of Psalm 35:9-10: "From your delightful stream you give them to drink. For with you is the fountain of life, and in your light we see light." It is eminently true that man drinks of the best gifts of the Trinity's delightful stream when finally he drinks from the intuitive vision of .the divine essence. This is the fountain of life, everlasting life. And it is precisely in the divine light that we see light. It is the Word who enlightens the intellect of all men both on eart'hxs and in heaven that they may believe by faith and see in vision. The eternal city needs no creaturely light for this same incarnate Word is its light and the blessed live by the light He gives: "The city has no need of the sun or the moon to shine upon it. For the glory of God lights it up, and the Lamb is the lamp thereof. And night shall be no more, and they shall have no need of light of lamp, or light of sun, for the Lord God will shed light upon them; and they shall reign forever and ever." 19 What is this light of glory that so transfigures the human intellect that man beholds his divine Guests just as they are? It is called light, surely, not because it is a refined sort of energized quanta, but because by analogy with natural light which makes colors and bodies visi-ble it renders the divine essence "seeable" by the created intellect. This lumen gloriae is not uncreated Light, pure intelligibility, subsistent truth, God. Rather it is a created participation in uncreated Light. It is drawn from our supernature, sanctifying grace, and it perfects and elevates the intellect intrinsically, thus rendering it apt for the intuitive vision. The knowing strength of the created intellect is completely unable of itself to reach out and bridge the infinite gap between it and subsist- ~Jn 1:9. 1~ Apoc 21:23-4; 22:5. ÷ ÷ ÷ Consummation VOLUME 27, 1968 4. Thomm $.~. REVIEW FOR' RELIGIOUS ~0 ent light and so the latter must bend down and raise the Creaturely intellect to the level of the beatific vision and render, it capable of "attaining the divine essence. We may say, too, that the light of glory disposes.the in-tellect for union with the divine essence as the im-pressed species disposes the same. intellect for the act of natural knowledge. Because of this disposition the splen-dor of the divine essence will not dazzle or wound the intellect (as the sun wounds sight .if directly gazed upon), for the intellect is not a sense and it has been elevated. So marvelous is this elevation that it makes man godlike and hence a very member of the divine family: "Beloved, now we are the children of God, and it has not yet appeared what we shall be. We know that, when he appears, we shall be like to him, for we shall see him just as he is." 20 In the act of vision, however, there is no impressed species that determines the intellect, no created simili-tude that takes the place of. or represents God, for noth-ing created can represent Him as He is. Even the most perfect created likeness of God must be more unlike than like Him. Rather the divine essence itself takes the place of the species of similitude, but it does not inform the intellect as an accident. Moreover, the divine essence also takes the place of the expressed species, that is, the concept or idea produced by the intellect and in which the intellect knows a created object. In the beatific vision there is no created word or concept, because if there were, knowledge of earth and knowledge of heaven would differ only in degree, not in kind. And further, the presence of a created idea between the intellect and the Trinity would weaken if not destroy the immediacy and directness Sacred Scripture demands in the terms it uses. to de-scribe essential glory: "face to face.as I have been known., just as he is." Clear Intuition The knowledge of faith is essentially dark, obscure, in a mirror--and a very imperfect mirror at that. The knowledge of vision is essentially bright, clear, direct. The New Testament itself insists on this contrast: "We see now through a mirror in an obscure manner, but then face to face. Now I know in part, but then I shall know even as I have been known.Always full of courage, ~then, and knowing that while .we are in the body we are exiled from the Lord--for we walk by faith and notby sight." 21 , " 1 Jn $:2. zt I Cor 13:12; 2 Cor 5:6-7. What does this clarity mean? Severa! things. We have already remarked that in the beatific vision the blessed do not see God as represented in some bril-liant idea they form of Him. No matter how brilliant a created idea may be, it shall always be more unlike God than like Him. Hence, dear intuition means that noth-ing will stand between the intellect and the divine es-sence. After the hypostatic union there is no physical intimacy with the divine .so dose as the indwelling of vision. Clarity means likewise that the knowledge of the blessed will not be through effects produced by God in creation or in the soul. Knowledge through effects is highly imperfect and obscure. If one saw footsteps on a beach leading to a discarded suit of clothes, a pair of gloves, a watch, and if he had no knowledge at all of the human creature as we know him, he might with some accuracy conclude to the passage of a moving two-footed animal approximately o six feet tall and endowed with intelligence. But his. insight into this strange fellow would be quite imperfect, obscure. Knowledge through effects-is anything but clear. In our example it would be opposed to sitting down with this newly discovered human being, touching him, gazing at him and espe-cially speaking with him and learning what he had ~to say of himself. Vision knowledge is dear. It is face to face, a seeing just.as the object is. Such is the blessed's grasp of the Trinity. Earthbound darkness and obscurity and reasoning are gone. Just clear, intuitive, direct experience. The blessed see the threeness of persons in the unity of nature and they understand that to be God, God must be a trinity: three in person, one in nature. They see the Father in His eternal now begetting His Son in a perfectly intellectual and virginal generation. They see Father and Son breathing forth in mutual love their Gift, the Spirit. They see the Son in the bosom of His Father and His Spirit, the Father in Son and Spirit, and the Spirit in Father and Son. They see this God "just as He is," and lodged in the deepest center of their subjectivity. Non-comprehensiveness We are not God. And only God can sound the depths o[ God. When we say that the blessed see the divine Trinity just as it is, we do not mean that the created elevated intellect can exhaust the inexhaustible. The term, comprehensor, can have two meanings: (1) one who possesses an object by vision; (2) one who sees into an object as far as it is seeable. In the first sense one comprehends when he grasps some truth, say, the simple structure of an atom. In the second sense he compre- 4- VOLUME 27, Z968 + ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS hends everything knowable about the atom. Some men comprehend the atom in the first sense; no man com-prehends it in the second. The elevated intellect of the blessed grasps the Trinity in the first sense but not in the second. Even the soul of Christ does not comprehend the divine essence exhaustively32 The finite cannot en-compass the infinite3~ Yet this raises a problem. How can we reconcile this nonexhaustiveness of essential glory with the simplicity of God? It would seem that if one sees an utterly part-less, simple being at all, he would have to see Him comprehensively. Theologians would ask, how can God be known "totus sed non totaliter--whole but not wholly?" The usual answer is that the infinite simplicity of God demands that He be known totus, whole, for other-wise He would not be seen "just as He is." But consider-ing the principle of the vision, the created intellect raised by the light of glory, the act cannot drink all of the divine intelligibility, non totaliter, not wholly: "Every being is knowable to the extent that it is a being in act. God, therefore, whose to be is infinite is infinitely knowable. Now no created intellect can know God infinitely." ~4 Degrees in Glory An immediate consequence of the inexhaustibility of the divine Trinity is the possibility of created intellects and wills knowing, loving, and enjoying Him in vary-ing degrees. If a fountain were endlessly deep, diversely shaped buckets could draw varying amounts of water. So with the Fountain. But tempting as this explanation may be, the reason the blessed drink diversely is not that their intellects are differently "shaped," that is, of un-equal natural capacities, for essential glory is no natural matter. Nor does the diversity arise from the object seen, for it is one and .the same Trinity. Nor is our problem explained by supposing more or less perfect similitudes of God---there are none in the beatific vision. The ex-planation must be related to merit and grace, for these are the roots of glory. St. Thomas offers several reasons for the diversity among the elect. Since the light of glory is a principle of the vision, and since the measure of this light is the measure of the vision, and since there are degrees in the perfection of this light, one soul is more completely m The Council of Basle condemned a proposition affirming this idea. ~ This non-comprehensiveness of the beatific vision is indicated too by the inequality in the perfection of the vision among the elect. --4 I, q.12, a.7. enlightened than another even though both see the same Trinity:25 "Therefore, the intellect participating more in the light of glory will see God more perfectly. But he will participate more in the light of glory who has the greater love, because where love is greater, desire is also the greater and desire in some fashion makes the desirer apt and fit for receiving the sought object. Hence, he who has more love will see God more perfectly and be more happy." 26 Approaching the problem from another point of view, Thomas points out that in any type of reality in which one thing causes another like it (for example, fire and heat) that which is closest to the supreme source of the perfection shares most in it. Because God most perfectly sees Himself, the soul closest to Him Will participate most in His light. From still another vantage point the Angelic Doctor notes that since the end is proportioned to the means, those who are better prepared by the means (in this case, the virtues) will share more in the end, in this case the intellectual vision, love and delight in the divine substance.2Z Eternal Novelty The intuitive vision of the Trinity dwelling in the bosom of the elect is never dull. Even more, it cannot be dull. Created joys can become commonplace, stale, flat, wearying, but never this one. The weariness and even disgust that arise in extended sense pleasures are due to an overstimulation of an expendable (because material) faculty. Such overstimulation, however, is im-possible in any purely intellectual activity because there is nothing material in it, and especially is it impossible in the purely intellectual activity of the beatific vision, for the divine substance, far from weakening the in-tellect, marvelously perfects it. In this vision there is never a lessening of delight and joy.2s This same conclusion can be reached from a consider-ation of the inexhaustible beauty of the Trinity. "Noth-ing," remarks St. Thomas, "that is gazed upon with won-der can be distasteful, because as long as wonder remains, desire does also. The divine substance is always seen with wonder by any created intellect because no created intellect comprehends it. Therefore it is impos-sible that an intellectual substance would find that vi-sion become dull." 29 On an infinitely lower level we can Summa contra Gentiles, 3, c.58. I, q.12, a.6. Summa contra Gentiles, 3, c.58. Ibid., c.62, n.7. Ibid., n.8. 4. 4. 4- Consummation VOLUME 27, 1968 233 ÷ ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS see this reasoning in'the differences in hhman personali-ties. A dull person' soon tires us with his conversation and presence~ while one deeply rich in talent, knowledge, and goodness charms us for hours on end. Because He is infinitely rich God charms the blessed for an infinite eternity. St. Bonax;enture encourages the wayfarer with the prospect of this radiance unadorned: Then shall your delight overflow in that unspeakable vision of the divine brilliance; then will you marvel at the joyous realization of your own splendor; then will you be magnified in the perfect knowledge of all creatures. 0 stupendous and wonderful contemplationl O delightful and charming vis, ion! O joyful and unutterable sight.~ Love Fulfillment The psychological experience of men indicates that the knowledge of a good and beautiful person is nor-mally followed by the disposition to love. But no matter how good or beautiful the creature may be we always remain free to choose the act of love or not. Love for a created person does not necessarily follow on the knowl-edge of him. In the beatific vision, however, the elect are so enthralled by their experience that they neces-sarily embrace the three indwelling Guests in the act of beatific love. Loves on earth are free because they al-ways follow on the perception of an imperfect good (which as such cannot necessitate the will) or i~t least a good that is viewed as mixed with some hardship or dis-advantage. But the love that flows out of the intuition of unmixed, perfect goodness is necessary It is also continual---one eternal, uninterrupted act. The.beatific love of Father, Soia, and Holy Spirit is not interfered with by other acts and affections of the blessed because the divine essence clearly seen is the mo-tive for all these other activities. The love-clasp with the indwelling Trinity is, therefore, the perfect fulfillment of man's desire to love and be loved. It is es~pecially here that St. Paul's observation is .true, "he who clea-~es to the Lord is one spirit with him." al The blessed clings to his triune God abiding in his soul through one eternal love rooted in the divine loveableness sought both for itself and for the blessed. This love is likewise total. Man is absorbed in ,the Trinity as a sponge is saturated in an ocean. When St. Thomas discusses the totality of beatific love he makes three distinctions because there are three elements ifi the act of love: the lov~r, the beloved, and the love. If the totality of beatific love refers to the last named, that is, ~ Soliloquium, c.2, n.25. ~ I Cor 6:17. to the act of love, the elect do not love God totally, be-cause the measure of the act of love is taken in a com-parison between the lover's capacity and the beloved's goodness. Obviously the divine goodness infinitely sur-passes the creature's capacity to love it. In this sense only God can love Himself totally. But if totality refers to the 'beloved, the elect do love the Trinity totally, because there is nothing in the divine essence that they do not see and love. Beatific love clasps the whole that is God. So also if totality is understood of the lover, the blessed do love totally, since, they withhold nothing of their capacity to embrace Father, Son, and Spirit.as They pour out their whole being in this perduringly final consummation of the great commandment, for now in-deed do they love the Lord their God with their whole heart and with their whole soul and with their whole strength and with their whole mind. Continuous Actuality More needs to be said of the uninterrupted actuality of the interpersonal relations of eternity. The beatific vision is poles apart from the Buddhist nirvana. In the latter concept there is a loss of personal consciousness as one is absorbed into the divine. Christian essential glory cannot be oblivion; it cannot even be a passive state. It tingles with actuality. Any being is perfect insofar as it is actual, since a mere potentiality is imperfection. But by definition es-sential glory or beatitude is man's last and consummate perfection. Now the last and ultimate perfection of any agent is to operate'---so much so that a thing exists for the sake of its operation. Therefore, since man is very much an agent and especially so through his intellect and will, his ultimate destiny cannot be a mere inert-ness, nor even a mere habit. It must be an intense but calm act. Our destiny is dynamic. The perfection of this calm intensity requires that it be unique and continuous. Our happiness on earth is neither unique nor continuous nor everlasting, for we are engaged in one round of a hundred different activi-ties ~rom one end of the day to the other. Because hap-piness is the more perfect as it is more one and con-tinuous, "there is (even on earth) less happiness in the active life, whida is concerned about many things, than in the contemplative, which deals with one, that is the contemplation of truth." 3~ In this unin.terrupted actuality of vision man finally 3 Sent., dist.27, q.3, a.2. 1-2, q.3, a.2, ad 4. 4. 4. VOLUME 27, 1968 4. + Thomas Dubay S.M. REVIEW FOR RELiGiOUS reaches an entire fulfillment of the crucial command-ment of the Christian dispensation, the love of God with one's whole soul, mind, heart, and strength. It is in this essential glory that the rational creature will love God with his whole heart, when his entire purpose is directed to God in all that he thinks, loves, or does; with his whole mind, when his mind always and actually is borne toward God in seeing Him continually and judging all things in Him according to the divine truth; with his whole soul, when all his affection is directed to loving God continuously and all other things are loved for His sake; with all his strength and powers, when the reason for all his ex-terior acts will be the love of God.u The elect's communion with his inabiding God is, there-fore, a consummate perfection of continuous actuality. Eternal Nozo When Sacred Scripture refers to our final victory it uses a variety of words to indicate its unfailing charac-ter: everlasting, imperishable, eternal, unfading: "These will go into everlasting punishment, but the just into everlasting life. And everyone in a contest abstains from all things--and they indeed to receive a perishable ~rown, but we an imperishable.Our present light affliction, which is for the moment, prepares for us an eternal weight of glory that is beyond all measures; while we look not at the things that are seen, but at the things that are not seen. For the things that are seen are temporal, but the things that are not seen are eternal . When the Prince of the shepherds appears, you will receive .the unlading crown of glory." 35 Our indwelling delight that awaits us, therefore, is not merely future. It is a limitless, unending, non-successive joy in perfect good. It is a drinking of beauty, a seeing of light that known no termination. Beatitude would not be man's last end, his entire ful-fillment, if it were not perpetual. We necessarily desire to live and love and delight forever. If we were to sus-pect that the beatific love might cease even after a bil-lion ages, a clond would be cast over the experience. Furthermore, a cessation in any vision must be due either (a) to a failure in the human faculty, or (b) to the will of the one seeing not to see, or (c) to a removal of the object seen. But none of these is possible in the elect who gaze upon the Trinity lodged in their souls. Their intellect as a spiritual faculty is incapable of cor-ruption and failure and so is the light of glory which elevates it. The elect cannot will not to contemplate the loveliness of their inabiding Lord any more than they Thomas Aquinas, De perlectione vitae spiritualis, c.4. Mt 25:46; 1 Cor 9:25; 2 Cor 4:17-8; 1 Pt 5:4. could wish to be unhappy. They are clinging to limitless beauty and cannot let go. Nor can the object of their contemplation be removed, for God cannot change and He will not withdraw what He has given as long as we do not first withdraw from Him.3~ And, as we have just noted, the elect cannot withdraw from their cling-ing to the Trinity. The Angelic Doctor delved even more deeply into this mystery of man's participation in the eternity of the eternal when he pointed out that the elects' immobile enjoyment of the Trinity derives from the intimacy of their union with immobility itself: The more anything is close to God, who is utterly immutable, the less is it mutable and the more is it persevering. But no creature can draw more closely to God than in seeing His sub-stance. Therefore, the intellectual creature who sees the sub-stance of God attains a supreme immobility and consequently cannot ever fall away from that vision.~7 We may describe the eternity of beatific joy by styling it a new moment that is always new. It is a simultaneous entirety always freshly crisp. It is forever novel in the best sense of the term. The tangible pleasures of earth are exactly the opposite. They soon wilt and grow old. They are always successive and therefore partial in their very nature~ They soon lose their freshness and novelty; eventually they bore. "Everyone in a contest abstains from all things--and they indeed to receive a perishable crown, but we an imperishable. We look not at the things that are seen, but at the things that are not seen. For the things that are seen are temporal, but the things that are not seen are eternal." 3~ Harmony of Impeccabilit7 Implicit in all that we have just said is the calm pro-portion, tranquil integrity, smooth harmony flowing into the elect's being from the sight of Father, Son, and Spirit. The blessed cannot see God and leave Him. They cannot sin. On earth we can know God by reason and faith and still offend Him. We can even reject Him. But this is due to the fact that our knowledge is obscure, partial, as in an imperfect mirror. We do not now see beauty just as He is. In the intuitive vision of eternity, however, the elect see the very essence of goodness with no admixture of disadvantage or difficulty. It is a clear, complete en-counter with goodness itself. The will is filled. It cannot say no. It cannot sin. Summa contra Gentiles, 3, c.62, n.5. Ibid., n.10. I Cot 9:25; 2 Cor 4:18. + + VOLUME 27, 1908 4. 4. 4. Thomas Dubay $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Completing De, light The consummating perfection of indwelling glory is delight. The blessed cling to the Trinity with their in-tellects and love their Guests with their wills, Crowning this essential glory is the consequent joy, a sharing in the very joy of the Lord: "Enter into the joy of thy~ master," He will tell us.89 It is an unimaginable good: "Eye has not seen or ear heard, nor has it entered into the heart of man, what~.things God has prepared for those who love him." 40 This delight is not the essence of beatitude but a con-comitant of it. Delight is joined to beatitude as conse-quent upon it, as a consummation of it.41 It completes Vision and love as beauty Completes youth and vigor. Though we on earth can never reach an adequate appreciation of this crowning delight, we can deepen our understanding by contrasting it with what a merely natural last end for the human race would have been. Had there been no elevation to the supernatural grace-glory economy, our knowledge of God would have been the inferred, partial, obscure reflection of the divine in creation. Our love would have been natural, too, based on this effects-to-cause understanding. Our joy could not have transcended the same plane. Our actual destiny, however, unimaginably surpasses all this. The knowledge of the elect is not partial, ob-scure, effect-to-cause, but a'direct seeing of the Cause in Himself just as He is. Their love corresponds to this vastly superior knowing and is itself necessarily more in-tense, more lofty, more supremely delightful. It is a very entrance into the joy Of the Master, a godly thing, a thrust into the very bosom Qf joy. It is an experience that defies all description, fo~: man cannot imagine what things God has prepared for those who love Him. He has prepared Himselfl Risen 'Body , Though the beatific vision is essential glory, it is not all'of our indwelling mystery of eternity. The temple of the. Trinity is itself to be transfigured body and soul, that it might become at last a worthy habitation for the divine purity within. It is a transfiguration modeled after the very pattern of the risen body of the Word, who "will refashion the body of our lowliness, conform-ing it to the body of his glory." 42 It is a glorification like. that of Jesus who "was transfigured before them. Mt 25:21. 1 Cot 2:9. 1-2, q.3, a.4, c. Phil 3:21. And his face shone as the sun, and his garments b~- came white as snow." 43 It is a state described by St. Paul when he said that "thEre is one glory~bf the sun, and another glory of the moon, and another of the stars; for star differs from star in glory. So also with the resurrection of the dead. What is sown in corruption rises in incorruption; .what is sown in dishonor rises in glory; what is sown in weakness rises in power; what is sown a natural body rises a spiritual body." 44 Our risen temples shall be incorruptible, impassible, brilliant, agile, spiritualized--and all because of the Spirit within them: "If the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, then he who raised Jesus Christ from the dead will also bring to life your mortal bodies because of his Spirit who dwells in you." 48 The qualities of the risen body shall stem ~rom the perfection of its subjection to the soul. The original body-soul harmony found in the innocent Adam will be restored together with gifts even he never had. And all of this will be caused by the indwelling Spirit. The soul is transfigured by the facial sight of the indwelling Trinity and the transformed soul in turn transfigures the body. The transfiguration is passed.from one to the other in a manner analogous to that in which a glowing red coal receives fire from a cause and then transmits its glow to a second coal. St. Paul closely ties the transfiguring spiritualization of the risen body to 'the indwelling mysteky: it is the Spirit within Who spiritualizes man's flesh even on earth. and causes his eventual resurrection in heaven: "You, however, are not carnal but spiritual, if indeed the Spirit of God dwells in you. But if the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, then he who raised Jesus Ghrist from the dead will also bririg to life your mortal bodies because of his Spirit Who dwells in you." 40 By some mysterious power the abiding Spirit shall so transfigure our mortal temples that they will shed the imperfections of their earthly state. What qualities shall the indwelling Spirit leave in His risen temple? Theology follows St. Paul and distin-ghishes four. The gift of subtility is a more complete subjection of the body to the spirit so that the risen body no longer impedes the activities of the Spirit. For St. Thomas sub-tility does not include the power of the risen body to be in the same place with another body, since this gift does not remove dimensions from the body and it is ~s Mt 17:2. u 1 Cor 15:41-4. ~s Rom 8:11. ~e Rom 8:9,11. VOLUME 27, 1968 239 4, 4, 4, Thomas Duba~ S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS due to dimensive quantity that bodies must occupy diverse sites. Hence, the power of the risen body to penetrate another material being arises from a special divine intervention. Other theologians, however, see compenetration as a consequence of the gift of subtil-ity. Though the risen body continues to resist other bodies (Christ could be touched after the Resurrection), at the same time it can Penterate them (He rose through the tomb and entered the cenacle through closed doors). Thus it remains a body and is palpable, but becomes like a spirit and can coexist together with other bodies. The gift of agility, the rapid motion of the body at the wish of the soul, stems from our principle that the risen body is perfectly subject to the Spirit-glorified soul that has transformed it. The explanation given by the An-gelic Doctor relates the two gifts of subtility and agility to this one fact. "The soul is united to the body," says Thomas, "not only as its form but also as its mover, and in both ways the glorified b6dy must be supremely subject to the glorified soul. Therefore, just as by the gift of subtility it is .totally subject to the soul insofar as the latter is the form of the body giving it its specific essence, so also by the gift of agility the body is subject to the soul as to its moving principle, namely, that the body be free and fit to obey the spirit in all its move-ments and actions."47 In this manner the risen body of Christ enjoyed the gift of agility, for it was perfe~ctly subject to His soul as we learn through His various ap-pearances and disappearances in different places and through His ascension into heaven. In the elect, therefore, agility means that the risen body will be freed by the indwelling Trinity from the burden by which it is now prevented from readily mov-ing whither the soul desires. As St. Augustine puts it: "we shall abide in such bodies that wherever we will to be and whenever we will to be, there shall we be." 4s This is the power of which St. Paul speaks when he says that the body which is sown in weaknessrises in power. Incorruptibility or impassibility is a gift whereby, the glorified body is likened to a spirit in the double inca-pacity to suffer or to die. By nature the human soul cannot disintegrate, be ill, or die. By privilege and by incorporation into the risen Christ the elect shall never taste illness, corruption, or death, in their bodies: "What is sown in corruption rises in incorruption." By the gift of brilliance the blessed shall shine as the sun with a splendor that overflows from the joy o[ the '~ Suppl., q.87, a.1, c. ~sSermon 242, c. 3, n. 5; P.L. 38:1140. St. Thomas held (contrary to Suarez' opinion) that this movement is very rapid but not instan-taneous; see Suppl., q.87, a.3. soul in gazing upon the divine beauty and splendor. This brilliance will be like that of Jesus Himself in the Transfig

Issue 23.3 of the Review for Religious, 1964. ; PAHL VI On Seminaries APOSTOLIC .EPISTLE To THE PATRIARCHS, PRIMATES, ARCHBISHOPS, AND BISHOPS OF THE CATHOLIC WORLD ON THE FOUR HUNDREDTH ANNIVERS~,RY OF THE ESTABLISHMENT OF SEMINARIES BY THE ECUMENICAL COUNCIL OF TRENT. Venerable brothers, greetings and Our apostolic blessing. The Word of the sovereign God,* who is "the true light that enlightens every man coming into this world,".1 decided to put on human nature for the sake of our eternal salvation and to spend a lifetime among us to show us "the kind of glory that belongs to the only begotten Son Of the Father, full of grace and truth.''~ In the same way He did not con-sider it unimportant to remain hidden for almost thirty years in a simple little dwelling of Nazareth in order that by His prayers to God and by His labor He might fittingly prepare for His apostolic work and give an example of all the virtues. Under 'the loving gaze of Joseph, His putative father, and that of His holy Mother Mary, the boy Jesus "grew in wisdom and age and grace before God and man.''8 Now if all the followers of Christ are obliged to imitate the Word become man, then surely a greater obligation to do so rests on those who someday will. "represent to men the person of Christ Himself both through their manifest per-sonal holiness and through their preaching of the law of the Gospel and their dispensation of the sacraments. The Church is aware that it is the duty of the ministers of Christ Jesus to show themselves as teachers of virtue first of all by their own public example and then by their spoken word; it is in this way that they truly become the salt of the earth and the light of the world.4 Accordingly, from the earliest centuries of her existence, she has taken special pain.s * The official Latin text, entitled Surami Dei V~rburn, is to be found in Acta Apostolirae Sedis, v. 55 (1963), pp. 979-95. IJn 1:9. ~ Ibid., 1:14. ~ Lk 3:52. 4 Mt 5:13-4. VOLUME 23, 1964 257 ÷ ÷ ÷ Paul VI REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 258 to see that the young men preparing for the priesthood should be well trained and educated. An important witness to this fact is to be found in the person Of St. Leo the Great, among whose writings is found the following remark: "When the directives of the blessed fathers treated of the choice of priests, they rightly asserted that only those were fit for the sacred ministry who over a long period of time had advanced through each grade of [sacred] duties and who had thereby proved themselves in an acceptable manner; in this way each man's conduct was a testimonial to his life.''~ Afterwards both ecumenical and regional councils gave a certain stability to the ancient customs in the matter; gradually they passed laws and established practices which afterwards the entire Church acknowledged as sacred pre-scriptions. In this connection it is sufficient to recall the sharply delineated decrees of the Third and the Fourth Lateran Councils.6 Unfortunately, however, the evil of worldliness made a continual and deep penetration even into ecclesiastical circles; and the spirit of paganism seemed to revive to a cer-tain extent in the academic world in which the young were educated. For these reasons, the norms previously.laid down by the Church for the training of candidates for the priest-hood were thought to be no longer adequate for the situa-tion. Accordingly, in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries many thought it absolutely necessary that there should be a reform of morals in the entire Church of Christ and that at one and the same time the candidates for orders should be protected from the dangers threatening them. and that their personalities should be correctly shaped by the efforts of judicious educators and teachers in places adapted to this purpose. At Kome in the fifteenth century Cardinals Domenico Capranica and Stefano Nardini made wholehearted efforts to meet this urgent and pressing need by founding the colleges named after them. In the. sixteenth century St. Ignatius Loyola established in Rome the Roman and Ger-man Colleges, the former for the training of teachers, the other for that of students for the priesthood. At the same time Cardinai Reginald Pole, archbishop of Canterbury, urged the bishops of Cambrai and Tournai to follow the example of ,St. Ignatius; and he himself prepared for Eng-land a decree on seminaries which was confirmed in 1556 by the synod of London and which was published on February 10 of the same year. A few years later, a law composed on the model of this decree was enacted for the whole Church by the Council of Trent. This law was contained in Chapter 18 of the reform decree approved on July 15, 1563.7 ~ Epistola 12, Patrologia latina, v. 54, col. 650-1. ~ Mansi, Amplissima Conciliorum collectio, v. 22, pp. 227, 999, 1013. ~ See G. Rocaberti, Bibliotheca maxima pontificia, v. 18, p. 362; and L. yon Pastor, Storia dei Papi (Rome: 1944), v. 6, p. 569; v. 7, p. 329. Since this year is the four hundredth anniversary of that important decree, the memoryof the event should be all the more carefully brought to mind given ~he fact that the an-niversary year coincides with the holding of Vatican COuncil II. For by convening t~he Council, the Church is primarily concerned with"b~tte~ihg the live~ 0f-the Christian faithful by the enactment of suitable directives; accordingly she will. not neglect to give special attention to that area which is of the greatest importance in the life of the entire Mystical Body" of Christ--the area concerned with the for-mation of those who are preparing themselves for the priest-hood in seminaries. We do not intend to describe here.the procegdings that took place before the confirmation of the decree on the establishment of seminaries, nor do We intend to delay on a Consideration of the. individual prescriptions of the decree. Rather, We are of the opinion that the commemoration of the decree will produce greater good if We emphasize the benefits" that have accrued from it for the Catholic Church and for human society and if We briefly recall to memory some of the principal points which concern the spiritual, intellectual, and apostolic formation of candidates for the priesthood and which, today as never before, require a diligent consideration. That seminaries would be of the greatest benefit to the individual dioceses of the Church was clearly foreseen by the members of the Council of Trent since in their thirteenth session they gave a unanimous vote to the document dealing with them. On this matter Cardinal Sforza Pallavicino wrote the following: "The chief matter approved was the establishment of seminaries. Many did not hesitate to assert that even if no other benefit resulted from the Council this alone would adequately repay all their painstaking labor. For this was considered the most effective means available for restoring lost discipline since it is a rule that the members of any society will bethe type they are brought up to be." 8 The extent of the confidence Which the leaders of the Church had in seminaries as a means to prepare for the renewal of the Church and for the increased holiness of priests can be seen from the fact that soon after the.Council strenuous efforts were made to carry out the prescriptions of the decree in spite of difficulties of every kind. Our prede-cessor of happy memory, Plus IV, gave a foremost example of this when on February 1, 1665, he established a seminary for his diocese of Rome; and in this he had been preceded by St. Charles Borromeo who established a seminary in Milan in the year 1664 and, on a more modest scale, by the bishops ofRieti, Larino, Camerino, and Montepulciano. Afterwards, other bishops, zealous for the renewal of their dioceses See P. Sforza Pallavicino, lstoria del Con~ilio di Trento, A. M. Zaecaria, ed. (Rome: 1833), v. 4, p. 344. + + + Seminaries VOLUME 23, 1964 259 ÷ ÷ ÷ Paul VI REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 260 established seminaries, being aided in this by many out-standing persons who were deeply concerned for the welfare of the Church. Among these were to be found in France Cardinal Pierre de B~rulle, Adrien Bourdoise, St. Vincent de Paul with the priests of his Congregation of the Missions, St. John Eudes, and Jean-Jacques Olier with his Society of Priestsof St. Sulpice. In Italy particular praise must be given to St. Gregory Barbarigo who worked untiringly and cease-lessly at the end of the seventeenth century to reorganize the seminaries of Bergamo and Padua; in doing this, he not only took into account the norms laid down by the Council of Trent as well as the example of St. Charles Borromeo, but he also took into consideration the pastoral and cultural needs of the time. The example given by this tireless pastor. to the other bishops of Italy is still vibrantly alive even in our own day, forhe had the ability to combine fidelity to tradi-tional norms with the introduction of innovations. An example of this was his insistence on the study of Eastern languages, since he felt that this contributed greatly to the better knowledge of the Eastern fathers and ecclesiastical writers and thereby to the eventual reconciliation with the Catholic Church of the separated Eastern communities. It was such achievements of the great bishop of Padua that John XXIII, Our predecessor of happy memory, recalled in his homily given on the day Gregory Barbarigo was sol-emnly inscribed in the lists ot the saints. 9 A person has every right to think that from the seed sown in the fertile field of the Church by the decree of the Council of Trent there also flowered forth those seminaries and colleges that exist for special purposes. Such are the College of Propaganda Fide in Rome and the Seminary for Foreign Missions at Paris; such also are ~he various national colleges in Rome, Spain, and Belgium. Accordingly, all the places which, like so many cenacles, exist today in the entire Church for the formation of candidates for the priesthood can be compared with the tree in the Gospel parable which, though originating from a tiny seed, nevertheless grew and increased in size. to such an extent that it could give shelter in its branches to innumerable birds of the air.x° Unceasing thanks, therefore, should be given to God that the following centuries, during which in many countries there were ideologies and practices opposed to the doctrine and to the ~aving ministry of the Church, did not see a cessa-tion in the establishment of seminaries but rather a wider and a larger growth of them. This was true not .only in Europe but also in both the Americas; it was also true in mission countries still to be enlightened by the light of the Gospel: as soon as the Catholic faith struck root~ seminaries were likewise founded. Moreover, the Apostolic See has See Acta Apostolica¢ Sedis, v. 52 (1960), pp. 458-9. x°See Mt 13:31-2. always multiplied its efforts to give to seminaries directives needed to fit in with the pastoral and cultural requirements of different times and places. This area, .which requires great discretion, is onewhich the Holy Spirit, the heavenly source of all the beneficial decrees of the councils, has especially entrusted to th~ suCre/he pastor 6f ~the ;Church.n Hence, while we are treating of this matter, We cannot forget to praise the distinguished work done by Our prede-cessors; among whom the following are pre-eminent: Gregory XIII, Sixtus V,. Clement VIII, Urban VIII, ¯ Innocent XI, Innocent XIII, Benedict XIII, Benedict XIV, Clement XIII, Plus VI, Gregory XV!, Plus IX, Leo XIII, St. Plus X, Benedict XV, pius XI, Pius XII, and John XXIII. Since seminaries have been the object of such great con-cern on the part of the Apostolic See and of zealous bishops throughout the world, it is not surprising that they have greatl~ prospefed, ~hereby effecting the greatest benefits for the Church and for the civil community. It was this matter of the great and outstanding advantages produced by seminaries in the course of time that Our predecessor of happy memory, Plus IX, wished to recall on June 28, 1853, in his apostolic letter Cura Romani Pontifices by which he established the Pio Seminary. In this letter he pointed out to rulers of states as well as to everyone inte(ested in the public welfare that "the correct and careful training of the clergy is greatly conduc!ve to the preservation and pros-perity of religion and of human society and to the defense of truly sound doctrine.''12 This same dose and beneficial link between the religious, moral, and cultural progress of peoples and the existence of a sufficient number of sacred ministers conspicuous for holiness. and learning was reiterated by Pius XI in this important statement: "The matter is the kind of thing that is closely connected with the Church's dignity and effectiveness and even with her very life. It is a matter of the greatest impor-tance for the salvation of the human race since the immense benefits which have been won by Christ our Redeemer are not communicated to men except by the ministers of Christ and the dispensers of the mysteries of God.''~3 Hence We gladly follow the example 0f Our predecessor Pius XII in making use of the apt remark uttered by Leo XIII of im-mortal memory on the subject of seminaries: "The welfare of the Church is intimately linked with their condition.''14 Hence it is that We ask all Our venerable brothers in the u See Acts 15:28. ~ See Pii IX Pontifids Maximi acta, v. 1 (1846-1854), p. 473. ~a The apostolic epistle Off~iorum omnium, Acta Apostolica¢ &dis, v. 14 (1922), p. 4-49. t~The epistle Paternae providaeque, Acta Leonis XIII, 1899, p. 194; and see Plus XII's Per hos postremos annos, an epistle to the bishops of Poland, Acta Apostolicat Sedis, v. 37 (1945), p. 207. Seminaries VOLUME 23, 1964 261 Paul REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 262 episcopate, all priests, and all the faithful to express their gratitude to almighty God, the giver of all good things, for the great benefits which have come to the Church from the providential establishment of seminaries. At the same time, We gladly take the occasion of this anniversary to give to all a fatherly exhortation. We wish to remind all the members of. the Catholic Church to be aware of the common obliga-tion they have tobe zealous in giving to seminaries whatever assistance is needed by them. Undoubtedly, the bishops of dioceses, the rectors and spiritual directors of seminaries, and the teachers of the various subjects have the greatest obligation to be concerned for the Complex work of support-ing, forming, protecting, and educating candidates for the priesthood. Nevertheless, their work would be nullified or at least would be mo~e difficult and less effective if it were notpreceded and accompanied by a ready and continual cooperation on the part of pastors and their assistants, of religious and lay persons charged with the education of the young, and especially of Christian parents. In all seriousness, how is it possible to observe the priestly vocation from its first beginnings to its full maturity and not see that, although it is principally a gift of God, it still re-quires the generous cooperation of many persons, clerical and lay alike? Since today's civilization has greatly increased among Christians the esteem and desire for the good things of this world, there has arisen in the hearts of many a less-ened esteem for the things which will not perish and which pertain to the realm of the supernatural. Since this is the case, how will it ever happen that many young men will make a rightly motivated decision for the priesthood if in the homes and the schools where they. grow up they hear the praises only of the greatness and the achievements of worldly pursuits? Few, unfortunately, are the Christians who reflect earnestly on the warning of our Savior: "What profit does a man make if he gains the entire world while losing his soul?''1~ In the midst of the delights and the attractions of this world, it is undoubtedly difficult to apply to one's own way of living the words otthe Apostle: "We do not fix our gaze on the things that are seen but on those which are not seen; for the things that are seen last but for a time while those which are not seen are eternal,''16 Moreover, when the Lord Christ summoned His poor fishermen of Galilee, did He not raise their minds to the contemplation and desire of heavenly rewards? When He saw the two brothers Simon and Andrew busy at their fishing, he said to them: "Come after me and I shall make you fishers .of men.''~v Furthermore, when Peter, acting in the name of the rest of the apostles, asked Him what reward Mk 8:36. See 2 Cor 4:18. xTSee Mt 4:19. they would receive for having left all things for His sake, Christ gave them a definite promise: "I assure you that in the new generation when the Son of Man sits on the throne of his majesty you who have followed me will also sit on twelve thrones to judge the t~4elve ti-ibes of Israel.''~s Accordingly, if boys.and youfig men are to gain and keep an adequate esteem of the priestly life and if their hearts are to have an ardent desire to follow that way of life, it is necessary that an atmosphere conducive to this be created both in the home and in the school. Although only a few of the faithful are called by God to the priesthood ~r to reli-gious life, still all are bound to a life of convinced commit-ment that closely corr.esporids to the norms of supernatural faith,x9 They must, therefore, show the greatest honor and respect for .those who devote their entire lives to their own~ sanctification, the spiritual good of the human race, and the increase of God's glory. It is only m th~s way that the mind of Christ2° will eventually come to permeate the! Christian people and that the number of candidates for the priesthood will have a favorable growth. It is true that the first duty of the faithful withI regard to the increase of the number of priests is prayer to G~d accord-mg to the command of Christ: ~ The harvest xs plentiful, but the workers are few; pray, therefore, to the Lo.rd of the harvest that he send workers into his harvest.''2x F~rom these Words of our divine Redeemer, it is clearly to be Seen that the merciful and sovereignly free will of God is ~o be con-sidered as the primary source from which flows t~e inclina-tion of soul to undertake the sacred ministries. ,It was for this reason that Christ gave the following warn!ng to His apostles: "You have not chosen me but I have chosen you and have appointed yqu to go out and bring f~rth much fruit, and your fruit will endure.''~2 So also St. Piaul, while insisting that the priesthood of Jesus Christ was [greater in dignity than the priesthood of the Old Testament, never-theless taught that every genuine priest depends principally on the divine will, since a priest is constituted by[his nature mediator between God and men: "Every hig~ priest is chosen from among men and represents men in the things which pertain to God . No one takes this honor on him-self but only the one who hke Aaron ~s called ~y lGOd. Much more excellent and much more freely best.owed must we consider the divine vocation to share in the priesthood of Christ, for the same Apostle says: "So also Christ did not raise himself to the dignity of the priesthood., having x8 Mt 19:28. a9 See Heb 10:38. 80 See 1 Cor 2:16. 2x Mt 9:37-8. ~Jn 15:16. 29 Heb 5:1-4. + ÷ + VOLUME 23, 1964 ' Paul REVIEW' FOR RELIGIOUS been perfected, he became the cause of eternal salvation for all those who obey him, having been called by God to be a high priest acco(ding to the order of Melchizedek.''~4 It is with good reason, then, that St. John Chrysostom, when writing of the priesthood, says: "The priesthood is exercised on earth but it rightly belongs to the realm Of heavenly things. For this office was created neither by man nor by angel nor by archangel nor by any created power, but by the Paraclete Himself. He it also is who is the cause why those who are still in the flesh aspire to the ministry of angels."~ It is important, however, to observe that the divine voca-tion to undertake the work of a priest is concerned not only with the candidates' spiritual faculties of intellect and will but also with their sense faculties and with their bodies. This is so in order that the entire person should be fitted for the unde.rtaking of the arduous duties of the sacred ministry. These duties are often joined to hardship; and at times, after the example of Christ the Good Shepherd, they require the laying down of one's life. Boys and youths, therefore, are never to be considered as called by God to the priesthood if, because of insufficient gifts of mind and will or because of innate psychological weakness or bodily defect, they are judged not to be fitted to 9arry out worthily the many duties of that function and to bear up under the burdens of ecclesiastical life. On the contrary, there is a consoling doc-trine in the Angelic Doctor who maintains that what the Apostle said of the first preachers of the Gospel is applicable to every priest. The words of St. Thomas are: "When God chooses persons for some task, He prepares and disposes them in such a way that they are found fitted for that which they are called to do; this is in accord with the statement of 2 Corinthians 3:6: 'He .made us fit ministers of the New Testament.' It is for this reason that parents~ pastors, and all those in-volved in the duty of educating boys and youths must not only create conditions favorable to those who are called to the priesthood and beseech God for the heavenly graces that will increase the number of such; they must also earnestly do what they can to see to it that youths enter a seminary or a religious institute as soon as they clearly manifest and show their real desire to be a priest and their capability for it. Only when this happens will the youths be preserved more securely from worldly attractions and be able to cultivate the seed of their divine vocation in a suitable surrounding. It is then that superiors, spiritual fathers, and teachers--each in his Own way--will begin their work. First of all, they will make a more careful exami- Ibid., 5:5-9. On the Priesthood, bk. 3, n. 4, Patrologiagraeca, v. 48, col. 642. Summa theologiae, 3, q.27, a.4, c. nation of the signs by which it is made apparent that Christ has really chosen these youths as His ministers; secondly, they will help the candidates to the priesthood to make themselves worthy of their lofty task. The educational task to be done in the seminary, directed as it is to the bodily, spiritual, moral, and intellectua~ training of tl~ ~ndidates, is a lofty and a difficult one which is splendidly expressed by the decree of the Council of Trent in these word~: "Nurture them, educate them religiously, and instruct them in ecclesiastical studies.''27 But here there arises a matter of the greatest importance: By what special and indispensable sign is a divine vocation to be recognized? What sign is the principal criterion to be followed in the seminary by those, especially the spiritual director, in charge of educating and training the candidates? Without a doubt this sign is to be found in the candidates' right intention; that is, in the manifest and firm decision by which one earnestly desires to give himself entirely to the divine service. This sign is derived from the prescription of the Council of Trent which decrees that only those youths should be received into a seminary "whose character and will power give hope that they will always be devoted to ecclesiastical service."2s It was for this reason that Our predecessor of happy memory, Pius XI, when he treated of the matter of this right intention in his encyclical Ad catholici sacerdotii, did not hesitate to state: "One who strives for the sacred priesthood for the one noble reason of devoting himself to the divine service and to the salvation of souls and who at the same time has achieved or is in process of achieving a solid spirituality, a tested chastity, and sufficient knowledge---such a one, as is clear, is truly called by God to the priestly ministry.''29 For receiving youths into the seminary, it is sufficient that they show at least the first beginnings of a right intention and of the character required for the priestly role and its duties. But in order that seminarians be rightly promoted to sacred orders and especially to the priesthood, they must give evidence to the bishop or to the religious superior of such maturity in their holy purposes that the latter can come to a certain judgment that before them are persons whom God has chosen.3° From this it follows that an awesome and serious responsi-bility and decision rests on ordinaries since it is their duty to make the final judgment on the indications of divine choice IT Mansi, Amplissiraa Conciliorum collectio, v. 23, p. 147. ~s Conciliorum oecumeni~orum decreta, issued by the Centro di Docu-mentazione, Istituto per le Scienze Religiose (Rome: Herder, 1962), p. 726, 11. 38-9. ~ The encyclical Ad catholici sacerdotii, Acta Apostolicae Sedis, v. 28 (1936), p. 40. 8o See I Sam 16:6. ÷ Semirmries ~OLUME 23, 1964 + ÷ ÷ Paul Vl .REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 266 in the candidates for holy orders and since it is their right to call them to the priesthood and thereby ratify before the Church and bring to an effective termination the divine vocation to the priesthood which had gradually come to full growth in the youthful candidates. This power is indi-cated by the following words of the Catechism of the Council of Trent: "Those are said to be called by God who are called by the legitimate ministers of the Church.''31 In our own time it has been a cause of sorrow to Us that some ministers of the Church have defected from their state; this is a calamity that a stricter carefulness in choosing and training candidates for the priesthood might perhaps have avoided. Hence it is that bishops of dioceses should take this oppor-tunity to weigh in their minds the words of warning directed by St. Paul to Timothy: "Do not hastily impose your hands on anyone and do not be a partner in the sins of others.''32 In the preceding we have briefly recalled what is required in those who are called by divine impulse to the priesthood. This is a clear, ready, and stable decision to take up the sacred ministry based especially on the desire to increase the glory of God and to seek the salvation of one's self, of one's brethren, and of all who have been redeemed by the pre-cious Blood of our Savior. It will not be out of place if We now briefly treat of the things which are useful for a perfect and complete training of candidates for the priesthood. Since these matters are of the utmost importance in the life of the Church, they have been frequently considered by Our predecessors. Itwill be worthwhile here to list their more recent writings even though they are known to all: Plus XI's encyclical Ad catholid sacerdotii;83 Plus XII's apostolic exhor-tation' Menti Nostrae;~4 and John XXIII's encyclical Sacer-dotii Nostrl primordia.~ Moreover, there has been submitted to the Second Vatican Council a constitution entitled The Formation of Seminarians. When this is approved, it will com-plete the berieficial decrees of the Council of Trent and the later prescriptions of the Apostolic See. Beyond any doubt it will give a notable impetus to the work of recruiting candi-dates for the priesthood; but more importantly it will con-tribute to the formation of those candidates by the love and exercise of priestly virtue, by the study of the sacred cere-monies, by intellectual development, and by pastoral train-ing. While the norms on seminaries to be issued by the Council are awaited, We think it a duty of Our supreme office to exhort all those engaged in the training of seminar-ians to give keen consideration to the dangers which can Catechism of the Council o.[ Trent, pt. 3, De Ordine, 3. 1 Tim 5:22. Acta Apostolicae Sedis, v. 28 (1936), pp. 5-53. Acta Apostolicae Sedis, v. 42 (1950), pp. 657-702. Acta A#ostolicae Sedito v. 51 (1959), pp. 545-79. diminish the efficacy of the system of training now used in seminaries; they should likewise consider what matters in the training of seminarians should be given greater care. Just as weeds creep into a field that is exposed to every kind of seed, sb there is a danger which seems to threaten the minds of youth more than formerly; this danger is the desire to censure everyone and to criticize everything. What is even more deplorable is the fact that even the youngest are unwilling to bear any restraint whether from natural law or from civil and ecclesiastical authorities; they accordingly strive for unlimited freedom of action. It is not suprising, then, that since the forces of their character are weakened and their aspirations for the true and the g~od are stifled, their sense faculties, both external and internal, reject the needed control of right reason and good will; for they have cut themselves off from the constant and efficacious power of grace and supernatural virtue. From this it naturally follows that young people frequently permit themselves a way of talking.and acting which is inconsistent With those norms of humility, obedience, modesty, and chastity which befit the dignity of a reasonable creature and aboqe all of a Christian person whose very body has become b~ the aid of heavenly grace a member of Christ and a temple of the Holy Spirit. From these indications of youthful superficiality and lack of self-control, who is not able to foresee that in the future these same young people will demand many rights but accept few obligations? Who does not fear that because of these reasons there will be a decrease in the number.of young men who .knowingly and generously desire the priest-hood? Consequently, everything must be combated which is in opposition to a healthy education of youth especially of those who are called by Christ to continue His work of redemption. But what are the means of achieving this? The principal one is that parents and teachers must strive that their sons and pupils, especially those of the more docile and generous nature that is fitted for the priesthood, should be imbued with humility, obedience, and the desire for prayer and sacrifice. Moreover, it is the duty of seminary superiors and teachers not only to protect and increase in their youthful subjects the virtues that have just been mentioned; they must also take care that as the seminarians progress in age there should appear the other qualities of character that are absolutely necessary for a solid and complete moral forma-tion. Among these qualities the principal ones are the inclina-tion to reflection, right motivation in action, the power to make a free and personal choice of the good and even o.f the better, and personal control of one's will and one's body. This serf-control will enable a person to conquer the ira-÷ ÷ ÷ Seminaries VOLUME 23, 1964 267 ÷ ÷ ÷ Paul VI REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS moderation of self-love, to resist the evil example of others, ~nd to win out over the inclination to evil which arises from human nature with its heritage of original sin or from con-tact with evil human beings or from that malicious and lost spirit who in our times seems to be increasing the fury of his attacks to conquer, if possible, those whom God loves in a special way. With regard to their dealings with their fellow man, those who--with Christ and for Christ--desire to be witnesses before men of the truth of the Gospel which sets men free and saves them,86 should be trained to the desire for truth in word and action; hence they must be trained to the sincerity, honesty, constancy, and loyalty to which St. Paul exhorted his beloved Timothy: "Do not engage in wordy arguments; they achieve nothing except to upset those who are listening. Let your first care be to make yourself acceptable to God as a laborer not ashamed of his work but rightly handling the word of truth.''a~ In order that the personalities of the young be effectively (grrected, that the evil seed of faults and vices be kept out of ~hem, and that the good seed sown in them may grow into health3/trees, it is necessary that due attention be given to. the good qualities which are found in the nature of man so that the work of priestly perfection may rest on the foun-dation of natural virtue. In this donnection the wise words of the Angelic Doctor seem to be especially appropriate: "Since grace does not destroy nature but perfects it, it is necessary that the natural inclination of the intellect should be subject to faith just as the natural inclination of the will is guided by charity.''~8 Still, the good qualities and natural virtues of man are not to be extolled beyond measure as though the true and lasting fruits of apostolic generosity are to be chiefly attrib-uted to human effort. It is also necessary to note that if use is made only of the principles of right reason and of the norms of human knowledge such as those of experimental psy-chology and educational theory, then it will be impossible to educate and form the personalities of youth to the natural virtues of prudence, justice, courage, temperance, modesty, meekness, and the other related virtues. For we are taught by Catholic doctrine that without the healing grace of our Savior no one can keep all the precepts of the natural law and hence cannot attain the possession of perfect and solid virtues.39 From this undeniable principle it follows that in the con-duct of ecclesiastical life it is highly important that human education progress step by step with the education which ~6Jn 18:37; 8132. 2 Tim 2:14-5. Summa theologiae, 1, q. I, a.8, c. s~Summa theologiae, 1-2, q.109, a.4, c. befits the Christian man and the priest in order that the powers of human nature may be enhanced and strengthened by prayer, by the supernatural grace given in the sacraments of penance and of the Eucharist, and by the influence of the supernatural virtues for the.exercise of which the natural virtues serve as a protection and a help. But even this is not enough. As the Apostle warns us, it is also necessary that man's power of intellect and will be subject to the norms of faith and the impulse of charity so that our actions, being performed out of love for our Lord Jesus Christ, may deserve to merit an everlasting reward.4° It is clear that what We have said must be carefully con-sidered by those who are called to be victims of love and obedience with our divine Redeemer for the salvation of mankind and to lead a life of virginal chastity and of external and internal detachment from the passing good~ of this world.In this way their sacred ministry will gain in worth and will become more fruitful. For this reason it will some-day be demanded of them not only to place all their best abilities at the service of their sacred ministry but also to forego even legitimate needs of nature and to endure hard-ship and persecution in order to be faithful and generous in carrying out their share in the role of the Good Shepherd. For it is only right that what St. Paul said of himself should also be said of every faithful minister of Christ: "'To the weak I became weak in order to win the weak; I have be-come ev.erything in turn to men of every kind so that I might save them all. All of this I do for the sake of the gospel that I might bear my share in proclaiming it."4~ This was the way of acting which was observed by the many bishops and priests whom the Church by her canoni-zation of them proposes as examples to all clerics. These, then, are the chief and principal points of training and of ~he spiritual life which outline the important educa-tional work which is entrusted to the superior and the spiritual director of seminaries under the ultimate guidance of the bishop. But added to this must be the conscientious cooperation of the teachers of the various courses who should seek the full development and perfecting of the intellectual powers of the seminarians. From such a cooperative and harmonious endeavor intel-ligently carried out by the superiors and the teachers of a seminary, there will follow the great benefit of a complete education for the seminarians. In this way seminarians will achieve a level of attainment that will not only develop them as human beings and as Christians but specifically as priests who must be completely imbued with the light of revelation, 40See Col 3:17; 1 Cor 13:1-3. 41 1 Cor 9:22-3. ÷ ÷ ÷ VOLUME 23, 1964 ,?.69 Paul VI REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS the special work of which is to see to it that the priest "is a perfect, man of God ready for every good work.''e It is good here to recall the statement of St. John Ghrysostom: "It is necessary that the character of a priest be like the light that brightens the entire world.''~8 With regard to the intellectual attainments of the clergy, there must be had a competent knowledge of languages, especially of Latin particularly in the case of those who be-long to the Latin rite. History, the physical sciences, mathe-matics, gedgraphy, and the arts should be known by clerics to the same extent as they are known by educated persons of the nation in which they live. But the greatest intellectual riches of the priest are to be found in the human and Christian wisdom that results from a solid and clear training in philosophy and theology according to the spirit, doctrine, and principles of St. Thomas and in a careful and complete. accord with divinely revealed truth and the directives of the Church's teaching. Such a training is given or comple-mented by the following subjects: scriptural exegesis accord-ing to the methods and norms of Catholic interpretation, the sacred liturgy, sacred music, canon law, Church history, archaeology, patrology, the history of dogma, ascetical and mystical theology, hagiography, sacred eloquence, the fine arts, and so forth. As the seminarian comes closer to major orders and in the first years after his ordination to the priesthood, emphasis should be placed on that part of theology which is called pastoral. Every care should be taken that he have an ever more active part in the life of his diocese including divine worship, catechetical teaching, and the stimulation and con-tinuance of apostolic work. In this way the future pastor of souls will gradually come to an early knowledge of his role and duties and will be able to equip himself for it in an adequate and fitting way. And in this matter it will be a great advantage to him to. have a knowledge and training in Gregoiian chant and in sacred polyphony. Then he will be able to give all his studies a single purpose and to direct. all his activity to the salvation of souls in the conviction that all his effort Should aim at .the coming of the kingdom of Christ and of God according to the advice of St. Paul: "All things are yours, you are Christ's, and Christ is God's.''~4 The more that the men of today seem to forget that all things belong to God, so much the more must the priest shine forth in the world as "another Christ"and as "a man of God.''~5 Holiness, then, and knowledge must be the marks of the one who is called by God to be the preacher and the minister of the Word of God, the Redeemer of all men. This holiness, Tim 3:17. On the Priesthood, bk. 6, n. 4, Patrologia graeca, v. 48, col. 681. Cot 3:22-3. Tim 6:11. We insist, must be outstanding, excelling that of the laity and of non-clerical religious; for the Angelic Doctor tells us: "If a religious is without orders," then it is clear that the pre-eminence of orders excels, in point of digni~y, because by holy orders a person is deputed for th~ highest service in which Christ Himself is served in the sacrament of the altar.''46 Accordingly, the life of a seminarian must be distinguished by a fervent devotion to the Holy Eucharist since he hopes one day to be the consecrator and the dis-penser of this sacrament. To this devotion to the Body and Blood of Christ it is proper to add the other forms of devo-tion that are especially consonant with it; namely, devotion to the Holy Name of Christ and to His Sacred Heart. As We come to the end of Our exhortation, We wish in a spirit of fatherly charity to extend Our congratulations to all of both clergies whowork zealously and generously for the recruitment and training of candidates for the priesthood. Our special praise goes out to those who perform these duties in regions where there is a serious lack of priests and where those who prepare candidates for the priesthood must undergo great difficulties and frequently expose themselves to danger. We also wish to congratulate those who, following the exhortations and directives of the Sacred Congregation of Seminaries, strive through writing and through meetings to bring the training of seminarians into closer accord with the needs of various times and places and with the progress that has been made in the field of education, while always respecting the purpose and nature of the sacred priesthood. This way of acting is a significant contribution to the welfare and honor of the Church. At last, beloved sons, We come to you who are living in seminaries under the motherly eyes of the Queen of the Apostles as the Apostles themselves once were in the Cenacle. You are diligently preparing yourselves for the reception of a power that exceeds all human measure~the power to consecrate the Body and Blood of Christ and the power to forgive sins. You are likewise preparing yourselves for the Holy Spirit's abundant outpouring of grace which will make you more ready for a worthy performance of "the ministry of reconciliation.''47 To you We repeat the words of the Apostle: "Let each one persevere in the vocation to which he has been called.''4s Those who wish to work for the salvation of men. in closest union with Christ and who wish to win for themselves a shining crown of eternal glory must respond to the divine call with the fullest docility and the most constant Obedience. Have a heartfelt esteem for the marvelous gift of God to 46 Summa theologiae,'2-2, q.184, a.8, c. 472 Cor. 5:18. ~8 1 Cor 7:20. ÷ ÷ ÷ Seminaries VOLUME 23, 1964 you, and from the days of your youth "serve in joy and exultation.''49 Finally, venerable brethren, We exhort you and express to you Our earnest wish that the suggestions We have set down here out of love of the Church be carried out as far as possible by you in your dioceses, in the flocks entrusted to you, and especially among your seminarians. The witness to Our wish will be Our apostolic blessing which We give in a fatherly spirit to each one of you. Given at Rome at St. Peter's on the feast of St. Charles Borromeo, November 4, 1963, the first year of Our pontifi-cate. PAUL VI See Ps 99 "~. ÷ ÷ ÷ Paul Vl REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS V. WALGRAVE, O.P. The Contemplative Vocation of Active Monastic Orders Introduction The* following considerations had their origin not only in a personal facing of the problem but also in numerous conversations with members of other orders. The author has had the opportunity to ascertain that the problem of the so-called "mixed life" is being raised everywhere and in almost identical terms,r Religious everywhere are looking for * This is a translation of a revision of the article, "L'avenir des ordres actifs A base monastique par rapport A leur vocation contempla-tive," which appeared in Supplement de la vie spirituelle, n. 65, May, 1963, pp. 206-33. It" is translated by Cronan Regan, C.P., lector of dogmatic theology, Saint Ann's Monastery; 1239 Saint Ann Street; Scranton, Pennsylvania 18504. 1Throughout this article the reader will meet the expression, "mixed life," in a sense that is not quite universally accepted. Among orders of the modern type, by the term "mixed life" is meant the state of all those who lead an intense life of prayer and meditation which overflows into an apostolic life strictly ~.o-called (that is, the ministry of the word, administration of the sacraments, and so forth), with no concern for the kind of means used to preserve or express the life of prayer. By this notion they intend to align them-selves with St. Thomas. However, the latter does not use the term "mixed life." He even refuses (and in this he differs from the more recent conception) to consider as a third kind of "life" the combination of the contemplative life and the active life. Among the apostolic orders which have a monastic foundation, almost all born during the Middle Ages, the use of the term, which they actually borrow from the school of Suarez, is ordinarily limited to the kind of life proper to them: an apostolic life emanating from a contemplative life which is organized after the fashion of strictly contemplative orders. And, ordinarily, they do not speak of a third life but only of a combination of two lives, contemplative and active, the former being the foundation and principle of the whole. In practice, the expression "mixed life" has fallen into disuse. If we now avail ourselves of this situation to use the term in our own way, and especially in its second meaning, it is only because ofa terminologi- Father V, Wal-grave, O.P., is prior of the Dominican Community at Ter-urenlaan 221; Brus-sels 15, Belgium. VOLUME 23, 1964 273 a clarification of the principles and a sharper understanding of the specific difficulties caused by the changes which the sudden evolution of our divilization has brought about. We should not be surprised that the crisis of growth presently running through the life of the Church is also affecting the old religious orders. In these orders too we witness a groping like that of an army which has' lost its way, which gradually finds itself placed in an entirely strange climate, having to live on a newnourishment, forced to face practical problems heretofore unknown. Thus, the religious orders, and in particular those whose religious life is con-ceived as basically monastic, feel that they are coming to grips with a mentality which, at first sight, appears in-compatible with their way of life. They have experienced the infiltration of ideas conceived in a perspective which is foreign to their traditional thought. They find themselves confronting problems which were undreamed of in their founders' day. History shows us that, in its first phase, the spontaneous reaction to such a sudden transition always has a somewhat incoherent character. Very quickly, under the pressure of the general unrest which flows from it, there comes to the fore a liberty of thought and expression which is often disconcerting but which nevertheless seems indispensable in order to clarify the situation and find once again unity of direction. These few pages claim to be no more than a modest contribution to the common effort of seeking light. Certainly the theme is a delicate one, and normally we would hesitate to treat it in public. But this problem is like many others that concern the intimate life of the Church : in the atmosphere of the Council it has been carried to the forum of the Christian conscience, becoming the object of public debate. At this moment in history, we can no longer permit ourselves the luxury of a discreet treatment of long duration. We have to face it in all liberty and frankness. And our conviction that the orders in question, have an irreplaceable role in the life of the Church compels us to meet this challenge squarely. L We Must Choose ÷ ÷ V. Walgrave, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 274 It is undeniable that in spite of the strong tradition which has always animated them, most of the old orders practicing the life which we call mixed at present lack confidence in the contemplative aspect of their vocation. Often the con-cM poverty. As a matter of fact, in spite of its insufficiency, we cannot find a better term to designate this very precise reality: the combina-tion of an apostle's life with a monastic type of life. Let us add that we are abstracting, and we do so designedly, from any discussion of the distinction or the relative dignity of the "states of life" which could influence the use of this expression. Hence, we use the term in a strictly pragmatic way. templative practice is so inferior to the formula which the proposed life promises that the need for honesty and authen-ticity, so pressing in our day, demands that we abandon this fundamental inconsistency as soon as possible. These are our. only choices: either return to an apostolic life t~ruly based on a real contemplative life; or renounce, purely and simply, the pretense of leading a mixed life. This latter action implies the abolition of monastic observance. General Conditions Jor Revival If we really choose an integral return to the mixed life, we must first of all, in view .of the present crisis, clarify the situation in the light of the original end of the order as well as in that of the fundamental ideas of the present evolution of civilization. Thus we will be able to cethink and, if neces-sary, to revise the choice of means. The return to the primi-tive ideal aims, first of all, at the major components of the mixed life and the ideal proper to the individual order; only after that, and in a conditional manner, at the particular details and observances. AdaptatiOn to modern conditions has no value in itself. Its influence will be salutary only in so far as it facilitates a return to the authentic ideal of the order and effectiveness in the accomplishment of its specific mission. All this effort of revival will bear fruit only if it is inspired by a lived experience ~f the mixed life end if it is guided by a concern for keeping an effective apostolate united to a contemplative attitude which is more than just theoretical.2 A Specific Vocation One of the reasons why our contemporaries rarely get deeply involved in the mixed life is that they are too little conscious of the important role that the contemplati+e apostle fills in the total picture of the care of souls. This is why the revitalization of this life must be made on the general level of the Church, particularly by revealing it as one of the very first needs of the Christian community. Whereas the members of active orders often carry on their apostolic activity in the concrete context of secular life, prepared to perform within it their important and very specialized tasks, the religious who live the mixed life (while they too are in direct contact with the world about them) have, before all else, the task of drawing the faithful to a 2 By "contemplative attitude" we mean that psychological attitude of complete receptivity to the word of God which the contemplative life (the organization of a well determined life which finds a communal expression in contemplative orders) seeks to guarantee and whose purpose is to open the soul to the graces of prayer. Among these graces we single out contemplation strictly so-called: that prayerful and simplified gaze which rests in the loving contemplation of God through His mysteries and in His works. ÷ ÷ ÷ Active Monastic Orders VOLUME 23, 1964 275 spiritual recollection in the world of faith. By their study, by their apostolate, they are to strive, above all else, to safeguard the gospe! inspiration of the Christian life in all its intensity. By their contemplative spirit they are to radiate in the world an atmosphere ~f spiritual, peace Which allows a man to disengage himself from his extreme activism and the "cult of efficiency" which so often affects religion. Based on a Paradox The mixed life is founded on a paradox. As St. Thomas shows in his Treatise on the States of L~e, it is precisely because of a concern for the apostolic end that one takes care of the contemplative life above all. This means that the community life itself must be conceived of in such a way that the apostle, coming home from a very intense ministry, will return each time into an atmosphefe which easily leads him to dwell in mind and heart in the realities of faith. In addition to the vows of religion, this atmosphere results especially from the following elements: the symbolic and rhythmic expression Of communal prayer, a style of life motivated by the desire of living consciously in the presence of God (that is, religious customs, architecture and decor, ~lothing, and so forth), a horarium dominated by this same concern, continual silence and the practice of private prayer which is not prescribed, exterior and interior distance (relative, it is true) from what is current and passing, a certain austerity of life which tends to free the soul for divine things. In brief, this mixed life involves a measure of monastic life.3 A person can hardly maintain this mixed life and its monastic elements for very long nor live it in a fruitful manner unless he really believes that this formula of life has an immediate practical value. At present it is precisely this belief that is missing. We find a magnificent theory (conteraplari et contemplata aliis tradere), but too often the practice is sterile and without conviction. V. Walgrave, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Ambivalence of the Monastic Element Like the vows of religion and the forms of austerity, the different elements of the monastic life reveal an important ambivalence. Choral prayer, strict silence, a symbolic style of expression, and so on contribute to the flowering of the Christian life and the apostolate only to the degree that they 3 The expression "monastic life" is taken here in the broad sense. That is to say, it does not refer exclusively to monks strictly so-called but to all religious who have in common with them their traditional forms of life, such as we have just enumerated. In this sense one can say that the canons regular and the members of the so-called mendicant orders lead a monastic life, though simplified. However, apart from the Carmelites and in some degree the Hermits of St. Augustine also, none of these orders is really born from monasticism. have been assimilated in a spirit of humble love, completely free from any naturalistic compromise. If observed only in their externals and without a respectful submission, they will hinder spiritual development. On the other hand, a fidelity that is egocentric and perfectionist will seriously threaten the authenticity of this spiritual development and, at the same time, the psychic balance of the person. In each of these cases, the practice of the mixed life will be really disadvantageous to the apostolate: it will limit its quantity without increasing its value. Consequently, we should not be surprised if, in our day, we often find that the renunciation of the effective practice of the mixed life and of the practices of austerity which it implies renders the spiritual life more vibrant and the apostolate more fruitful. But the cause of the spiritual slackening which was experienced earlier is to be found not in the monastic life as such but in the way in which it was undertaken, in the lack of receptivity and of humble respect for those things that are ritual or for observance. Ambivalence of the Apostolic Element A similar ambivalence affects the apostolate with regard to its bearing on the contemplative life, If the apostolate of a religious is animated primarily by his need for activity and personal fulfillment .or if it is dictated almost wholly by a secular messianism (whether or not associated with Christian dogma), it will inevitably end by making his return to the monastic atmosphere unbearable. On the contrary, any apostolate worthy of the name will ultimately lead the soul of the apostle into intimacy with God. His return to the monastery will be experienced as a return into a world conformed to his proper state of soul, and hence as a refreshment. It is understandable that at the same time as the mixed orders are searching for a new equilibrium within a civiliza-tion which has profoundly changed, the superiors are particularly concerned with safeguarding the atmosphere of the monastery and the recollection of the religious from an unbridled activism. But the fear of a committed and intense apostolate indicates just as basic a misunde~:standing of the mixed life. For it is an oversimplification to consider that those religious who very rarely leave the confines of their cloister are better religious. If the religious return spiritually weakened by their contact with the world, it means that their formation in the life of prayer and monastic practice was miscarried. This unfortunate development explains a good number of conflicts which find the superior, who is concerned with guaranteeing the authenticity of the conventual life, in opposition to religious who are animated with a sincere apostolic zeal. 4- 4- 4- Active Monastic Orders VOLUME 23, 1964 ÷ ÷ V. Walgrove, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 278 The Monastic Renaissance osf the Nineteenth Century We cannot understand the roots, of the present crisis unless we consider the renaissance of monastic life in the last centm'y. Indeed, it is in studying the nineteenth centu.ry that one finds that the causes we have just enumerated are already at work. An egocentric and subjective sensibility inherited from the. proud humanism of the l~enaissance continued to determine the cultural climate of this century. Even the monks, in spite of ~he thoroughly dogmatic em-phasis which characterizes their liturgical piety, in .spite of their expressed desire to deliver themse!ves unreservedly to the influences of grace, were not able sufficiently to avoid being contaminated by this tendency toward serf-fulfill-ment-- ordinarily, of course, under the form of a religious perfectionism. Now, an egocentricity of self-fulfillment easily leads to a fundamental cleavage in the way we experience reality: on the one hand there is an exclusively rational and artificial taking over of elements that can hardly succeed in giving flesh to the original vital movement; and on the other hand there is a pampered sentimentalism (?eligious romanti-cism!) which keeps affectivity and feeling from really becoming interior and personal. It follows from all this. that the religious orientation' was able only feebly to express itself in the symbolic language of the monastic structure, Also, the combination of a cult of the medieval past with the perfectionism already mentioned led the restoration to embrace the conventual observances of the preceding periods in a manner that was too rigid. Hence, despite the Christian grandeur of the renewal of the old orders, despite the holiness and magnanimity of the restorers, the latter were not able to prevent the slide towards a practice of monastic prescriptions that was too little authentic, and hence formalistic. One became very "observant," but rarely contemplative. Distance from the world brought with it an apostolic absence from the world. And, .alongside a way of life that was obviously severe there was often pro-vision for a number of bourgeois satisfactions. In these conditions, it is understandable that sometimes fidelity to the constitutions had already been very hesitant and defective.This would be the case especially in the outlying provinces or among peoples whose thinking lends itself less readily to formalism or to an ideal tinged with romanticism and conceived apart from real needs. This artificiality will have as its consequence that at a given moment many elements of monastic life, and even the very ideal of it, will be experienced as alien elements, as con-tinually burdensome. A crisis manifests itself, one that brings the very existence of the order itseff into question. The Contemporary Reaction The reaction against the exaggerations and illusions of this preceding period, has led us. to an ambiguous position, one from which we must ha~en to free ourselves. The resolute character of this 'reaction is explained by the fact that it is the fruit of a real life experience. This is the case not only among the young who, because of the coinci-deiace of several factors, have never had the opportunity of identifying themselves very deeply with the traditional observances but also among a number of older men who are still conscious of that period when traditions were. never questioned in a critical manner. Indeed, among the spokes-men for the "modernizing" trend we find some religious who were first generously engaged in the way of the "strict .observance." But, not having been able to escape from the influence of a climate of observance which is perfectionist and consequently formalistic, they have experienced in themselves all the narrow-mindedness and all the danger of lack of balance that this sort of thing can bring with it. In the end, it is the desire for a truer Christianity and a freer apostolic spirit which leads them to reject expressly several elements which .are indispensable to a contemplative way of life. But, what is more important, this same trend has plainly been influenced by deviations characteristic of our age: whereas formerly the temper of the age affected religious life only in an unconscious or unacknowledged way, the contemporary generation tends consciously to identify itself with modern aspirations, espousing them even in those things which are incompatible and unassimilable from the religious point of view. Thus, in appealing to the essential (the end), to the functional (the means), and to the authentic (the intention), it turns back on the recent past as ,bearing in itself the proof of the ineffectiveness, religious or apostolic, of much of the traditional "media" of the mixed life, How-ever, this generation does not note that the partial failure of the restoration is bound up with the precise fact that there was too much of a concession to the unrecognized influence of those same too-human evaluations which, in our day, are drivingus to eliminate essential elements of the mixed life. (It is true that since then important changes have been produced in western humanism: thus communal anthropocentrism has replaced individualistic anthro-pocentrism.) The conditioning of a person by the temper of his age leads to another regrettable consequence: that is, an inability to be mov(d by strictly ~eligious values and to be resonant to their proper modes of expression. This phenomenon springs in part from a too earthbound humanism, with which so many persons who desire to belong to God are ÷ ÷ ÷ Active Monastic Orders VOLUME 23, 1964 279 imbued--at least on the level of their automatic and un-controlled keactions. On the level of affectivity, these persons are in a "closed" situation which, in great part, paralyzes in advance every self-offering movement towards the trans-cendent world of the divine and, by the same token, all commitment. A Contemplative Renewal? For some time now a general trend in favor of the con-templative spirit and life has manifested itself almost all over the world. Not on!y do the multiplication of contempla-tive monasteries (especially in countries which are better off materially) or the monastic revival which is springing up in every diverse Protestant milieu bear witness to this, but also the ever increasing number of studies on the subject :. biblical, historical, and theological studies which treat especially the .essence of the religious life, the original con-ception of monastic life, and its function in the ChmZch. + 4- 4- V. Walgrave, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 280 After the Wave of "Liberation" It is true that up to now a general movement of liberation and of return to authenticity dominates the forward moving wing of the Church to the practical exclusion of every other consideration. It is true that this same movement very much holds the attention of the old orders, which are also preoc-cupied with freeing themselves from all formalism and with not living shut up within themselves. But, once this move-ment has achieved a certain level of maturity, the contem-plative or mixed life will very quickly appear to the Christian elite as an ecclesial task of the.highest importance, In fact, when one stops to consider the very secular perspective in which a number of Christians grasp the great ideas of our epoch (such as: authenticity of life, the reasser-tion of effective values, the communal ideal, "cosmic prog-ress"), we must indeed conclude that rarely before in history has it been so necessary to reaffirm the transcendence of the divine and the folly of the cross. Indeed, it is only in the light of these fundamental truths that we can integrate those modern values with the work of redemption. That is to say that at the very center of Christianity we must encounter men who are manifestly living in the grip of God's reality-- contemplatives. II. Primordial Condition: Grasp the Ideal Later on we will treat some of the methods of self-ap-praisal that have become indispensable for a proper func-tioning of the mixed life. But these subjective means have value only to the extent that they can assure a free flowing of the mystical springs of the religious life, that they can help us realize the primordial condition: a firm grasp of the ideal. What good is it to free the gaze of the heart if it lack a world vision, a great cause capable of raising us beyond our limitations? Indeed, such a vision must become, so to speak, a part of one's psychological structure in such a way that it shapes and gives direction to all of a person's spon-taneous reactions. We are thus led to present two theses: 1. The regenerative role of theology. This global vision which absorbs our attention ever more and more will direct our gaze first of all to the reality of God our Creator and Savior. That is to say, the religious will be penetrated by a theologi-cal total view of the meaning and structure of the Christian life. In it will be integrated the results of the biblical, his-torical, and speculative researches that recent generations have produced. We are convinced, furthermore, that this consciousness of the worth and requirements of the mixed life will emerge only in the framework of a renewed theologi-cal perspective. Hence, a theological emphasis must be present in our religious formation and in our religious consciousness. This dimension must be given in a way adapted to the subject from the very beginning of religious life. 2. Continuity with thefou~nder. The particular order to which a person belongs must be understood in this same global perspective. In spite of its obsession with progress and its constant preoccupation with the future, our own age loves to search history. In view of this, the young ought to be presented with the origins of their order, with the master ideas which, from the beginning, have established its voca-tion in the Church and which are expressed in a certain number of its traditional elements. Thanks to this confronta-tion with living history, the master ideas will come through in their vision of the future as a truly contemporary call. Revision of Observances: Return to the Sources or Adaptation? The return to the sources of the mixed life implies a reflection on the profound meaning of usages and customs, of different forms of traditional expression. An eventual reworking will be constructive only if the following conditions are observed : a) One must know how to distinguish judiciously between the difficulty of application stemming from the fact that a prescription takes its obvious meaning from circumstances that are strictly historical and that no longer obtain, and the difficulty which originates either in the passing insuffi-ciencies of modern man himself or in the present make-up of the order, province, or abbey. In this last case, the question to be asked is not, "How can we modify this prescription? What is there which the present group is right now capable of assimilating?" It is rather, "How can we get candidates better adapted; how can we form the members of the order 4- 4- OArcdti~veers Monastic VOLUME 2~, 1964 28! V. Walg~ave, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 282 to understand customs of this nature and to have the spir-itual attitude which corresponds to them?" b) The second condition is that the judgment must pro-ceed not only from an historical or psychological knowledge of the factors in question but also from a lived experience of the mixed life that is penetrated with a concern to safe-guard it. This experience can be incomplete on the active side as well as on the contemplative side. In fact, the judg-ment on an aspect of the mixed life can be just as much falsified by an exclusive preference for the elements of the monastic life as by a one-sided orientation towards activity. Once these principles are applied, however numerous the modifications proposed, even if they eliminate some usage dear to traditionalist sentiment, they will not cause any injury to the order as such. Rather, the result will be just the opposite since these changes will be inspired by a sense of the specific purpose of the order and a concern for apos-tolic or monastic effectiveness. As long as these two conditions are not met with, one will argue off the point and will judge to be outmoded or ineffective that which really corresponds with an eternal need of the contemplative soul. This mistake at present threatens in a most serious way the right evolution of several orders with a monastic foundation. Biblical Existence and Monastic Life Among the elements of spirituality which attract the attention of modern man in a special way, corresponding as it does to his own temperament, there is none able to exercise as favorable an influence on the contemplative. renewal as the tendency towards an "existential" attitude conceived within the biblical perspective. Understood in a superficial way, this attitude could easily lead to a militant anti-formalism or to an opposition to every kind of norm or usage imposed in common. Taken in its real meaning (that is, conceiving the order of nature as well as that of revelation as an historic action of the living God who calls me to respond), the biblical attitude of dialogud favors the total absorption of the soul by a personal God, by the living Christ. This personalization of attention and intention signifies at the same time the personalization of the monastic life, of recollection, and of asceticism, constituting by that very fact the best remedy against the subjectivism of every kind which has brought so much harm to the spiritual development of religious milieux. Liturgical Requirements The second element of modern spirituality which brings the contemplative attitude closer to us is the liturgical renewal. The "existential" encounter with the redeeming God is achieved in the liturgy. Now, the contemplative community presents itself as a liturgical community par excellence. The monastic life asks to be nothing else but a continuation of the liturgical action which embraces the whole of life, just as the conventual day should live by the ideas and sentiments brought to it by the Divine Office. It follows that the liturgical~ renewal presently taking place will be decisive in great part for the monastic renewal which is manifesting itself in the old orders. It is, then, of the utmost importance that the liturgy be able to present itself to the religious in a form apt to be lived by them in a personal way. To attain this end it is necessary: (a) that the work of accommodating ceremonial on certain points continue judiciously; (b) that the Breviary be thoroughly revised with an eye to increasing the directly religious value of the texts (that is, Lessons, choice of Psalms and Canticles) ; (c) that, with regard to the Psalms to be recited, we come up with, finally and' in spite of everything, a version that is at once faithful and drawn up in a simple and rhythmic Latin, the Latin of the fathers. Finally, we think it is probable that in order to assure the pastoral efficacy of the choral Office (in mixed orders) it will be necessary one day to adapt part of the Office so as to permit the faithful to participate in it in a direct manner. The "Conventual Brotherhood" As a third element of the contemporary renewal whose conscious engrafting will be of decisive import for the future of that religious life which has a monastic foundation we propose the reinvigoration of the dimension of community. The monastery constitutes par excellence a "brother-hood" united by the bond of charity. The sense of "brother-hood" is the more necessary according as the life of the members is lived in greater silence and solitude. It is a fact that the subjectivism of times past has led us to an individu-alism in thought and feeling so as greatly to diminish aware-ness of the normal connotation of this brotherhood. Also, a stern perfectionism often favored an affective harshness which stripped the common life of its note of spontaneity and cheerfulness. The present reaction against this climate of spiritual individualism is animated, no doubt, by a need for affective liberation. But it borrows its significance above all from the profound need of "socialization" that marks modern man. He wants to live his vocation and fulfill his primary tasks with his brethren beside him in a communion that is really experienced. Of course there are risks. A superficial conception can lead to an absolute "horizontalism," to the detriment of every purely religious value lived prior to the encounter with one's neighbor: a life of adoration and sacrifice lived in silence and solitude. At the same time it can endanger the ÷ ÷ ÷ Active Monastic Orders VOLUME 23, 1964 283 4. ÷ 4. V. Walgrave, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 284 original meaning of the vows of religion, especially that of obedience. But, understood as it ought to be, this re,empha-sis of fraternal charity w!ll provide a guarantee of authen-ticity for our personal relations with God. Besides, it will favor a conception of the vows that is more complete, more in conformity with the full intention of the counsels of Christ as we find them in the Gospel. The re-enrichment of the vows of religion with a communitarian dimension is an urgent matter. Authority and the Attitude oAr Dialogue Among the direct consequences of accenting the social dimension, a more communitarian exercise of authority should especially be mentioned. This exercise will be based on an attitude of dialogue, a prolongation of that attitude adopted toward God. The conventual "brotherhood" constitutes at the same time a community of endeavor, united especially in a com-mon prayer and work. The superior is above all the repre-sentative of the common ideal of service of God, as the members have freely chosen it and to which they have bound themselves unconditionally. If the religious has bound himself by his profession to a total obedience to the "orders of his superior, this in no wise diminishes the supe-rior's duty of safeguarding and promoting the communal character of the religious undertaking. Thanks to the social orientation of our age, it has become possible to improve yet more the communal dimension of the regime of obedience. This improvement implies, first of all, a more personalized acceptance of the subject just as he is, in a spirit of under-standing and respect, allowing him to express his point of view frankly. This acceptance will correspond moreover to the present tendency of the young to show their superiors a greater openness of soul and a more filial confidence. Secondly, the evolution we have noted will require opportunities for an exchange of ideas on the level of the group as such in preparation for the making of decisions. Whereas up to now authority has ordinarily confined itself to imposing or determining a multitude of individual tasks as though from the outside, it now tends more and more to become the directing principle of a common task, supported by a common thought and activity. The sense of initiative is seeking to find its place in the life of the group as such. This new orientation is fitted to purify the exercise of authority from every egocentric identification of the person of the superior with his power--though it be often uncon-scious. In consequence it will make obedience easier and more authentic, immunizing it from the spirit of servility or shabby calculation. The unavoidable transition in which we are engaged will be favorable to religious renewal only in so far as the superiors do not give in to the current of a false democrati-zation or of a leveling of the transcendent character of authority and its appropriate expressions. The just mean is the more difficult to find as the problem is rather new. There is the risk of improvising, of going beyond that which is compatible with the rule of religious 01~'edidnce: "as a democratic equality in accordance with which a subject would discuss a matter with his superior until they arrive at a solution pleasing to.them both.''4 But, besides that, an even more fundamental condition is only rarely fulfilled. Dialogue within the framework of religious obedience pre-supposes as a common basis for exchanges of opinion a com-mon conception of the ideal and of its elementary require-ments. Now it must be admitted that in active orders that have a monastic foundation this unity of conception is lacking2 The superior who is desirous of preserving essential traditions in the face of changes that are imposed and enters onto the path of dialogue quickly finds himself confronted with an impossible task: he must raise the discussion of a number of delicate questions concerning the religious life which are, .for the most part, based upon a lack of under-standing of the contemplative element and its monastic expressions. Since these problems are very complicated and since there is generally a lack of a clear and firm interven-tion on the part of the legislator and the major superiors, l~e quickly finds himself compelled to be content with a more traditional exercise of power, thus increasing the unrest of his subordinates. From all this, two points clearly emerge: (I) in general, the coincidence of the crisis of the mixed life with the break-through of the spirit of dialogue has much to do with the precipitancy with which the dismantling of the contempla-tive and monastic regimes is being accomplished in the orders in question; (2) the reassuring or reform of this regime must begin with a renewed insight into the very idea of the mixed life and a renewed recognition of the internal coher-ence of its essential elements. In Quest of Evangelical Poverty The renewal of the mixed life is inconceivable without a rediscovery of poverty. This is the case primarily because the contemplative attitude is essentially oblative, and thus it is in contradiction to our possessive instincts. The purifica-tion of these instincts presupposes a detachment which is not simply one in principIe but one that is sensibly felt. The problem becomes especially disturbing when we view it from the ecclesial angle. Our witness to God's tran-scendence loses a great deal of its force as long as we do not 4 Plus XII, Altocution to 30th General Congregation of the Society of Jesus, September 10, 1957, The Pope Speaks, v. 4 (1957-1958), p. 449. ÷ ÷ ÷ Active Monastic Orders VOLUME 2~, 1964 285 ÷ ÷ ÷ V. Walgrave, o.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 286 clearly appear freed from the tyranny of material wants and the cult of security which characterizes our age. Our better Christians sense this connection vividly, If they suffer from their submersion in material needs, it is often because they recognize therein a lack of faith in God and in the message of Christ. And it is in vain that they seek in us, through our effective detachment, an indisputable expres-sion of this faith. The question is urgent: how can we conceive for religious life an expression of evangelical poverty that is appropriate for our age? How can a real sense of Christian risk be joined with the functional realism we must have? This inquiry, and it is becoming more and more lively, will not cease until the adequate answer has been fofind. Finally, we cannot close our eyes to the destructive misery of the underdeveloped world which is aggravated in propor-tion to the development of our wealth. In our era, when man's awareness has acquired a "planetary" dimension, the desire to live in conformity with the poor and suffering Christ--an essential trait of religious life--seeks inevitably to incarnate itself in a style of life which, by solidarity with His disinherited brethren, leaves flatly behind the arrogant abundance which surrounds us on all sides. Remoteness from the World Among the modern currents Which have a rather negative signification for the mixed life, special mention should be given to the tendency to exteriorization and immersion in contemporary affairs. Now, ih an apostolic community with a contemplative foundation, one must always maintain, in spite of the lively attention he gives to the evolution of this world, a relative, but quite apparent, distance .from things of present interest. This distance finds expression in the cloister, a material and spiritual partition which moderates com-munication with the world outside. For the moment, the preoccupation with an apostolate adapted to the style and rhythm of our civilization tends to neutralize completely this function of the cloister. The principal objection to the traditional viewpoint is that the modern apostle must keep up with the political, social, and cultural events of the day, just as his hearers do, by the many means of communication: radio, television, films, magazines, and so on. Such a conclusion is precipitate and rests upon a funda-mental confusion. The unlimited multiplication of contacts with present-day happenings is not the means that will bring us an understanding of modern man. By modelling our life on that of a Christian in the world, by introducing the mass media of communication indiscriminately as habitual elements in our life, we destroy that very perspec-tive which is so important for judging the true direction of current events. Moreover, we make too difficult the attitude of recollection and searching for God; and this is the very raison d'etre of the whole monastic apparatus. Nor should one imagine that intensive contact with the world will favor the efficacy of. our specific, mission. For the word which takes its il~sp~ration from this'contact only rarely communicates the Gospel message to the deepest aspirations of the modern soul. The resulting presentation may indeed be more "striking," but it will always be too facile as well. The primary conditions for a true understanding of and fruitful approach to modern society are of quite a different nature. What we must have are, first of all, a knowledge of human nature, just that, acquired through a humble self-knowledge as well a~ by other means; an authentic esteem for earthly values which will permit us to be in empathy (free from all religious smugness) with the man of-today as he is; and an extensive understanding bf the formation of contemporary civilization and its in.n.er logic. However, along with all this it would be highly desirable not only to initiate the young religious methodically into the world that the communications media evoke but also-- parallel to what will be said on the matter of formation for the mixed life--to arrange intensive contacts with certain representative milieux of present-day society. Thus, the approach to the modern world will be prepared not by a process of lowering the plane of conventual life to the level of the world but by a better general formation and a conscious and well-guided initiation. Reinvigoration of Monastic Initiation If the mixed life is to be more than a formula and if the contemplative element is to maintain its elementary solidity at the heart of the .apostolic life, a solid initiation to the monastic manner of living has to be provided. Among other things, such an initiation will demand: a) That young religious be taught to avoid all confusion between end and means, between .the essential and the accidental. Let us add that the "functional" or practical mentality, which is characteristic of the new generation, will for its part be able to exert a tonic influence on the spirit which animates observance and worship, b) That the young also be taught to respect the necessity of using means as well as their proper finality and to be attentive to details. This attitude presupposes, first of all, an understanding of different observances and forms of expression; more than ever before it must be shown (in a solid and carefully studied way) how these different practices correspond on the one hand to what is eternal in the needs of man and on the other to what is of positive value in modern aspirations. Further-more, it presupposes an awareness that the assimilation of ÷ ÷ ÷ Active Monastic Orders VOLUME 23, 1964 + ÷ V. Walgrave, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 988 rites and observances, of chant and psaimody demand-_ - precise knowledge of various details and an unreserve~l commitment to their practice just as mastering a modern technique does;in fact, in both cases it is "virtuosity" which will permit a person to handle the "technical" means in a way so fluent that his mind, freed by this from all serf-conscious hesitation, will easily be able to turn toward the essential (in the case that concerns us: to aim at spiritual realities through the external "media," to integrate these "media" ever more and more into the spiritual movement of the soul towards God). This line of thinking leads us to formulate two theses in a more explicit manner, which once admitted will profoundly modify the pedagogical perspec-tive of the old orders. Integration of Personal Self-Awareness Very often the old orders consider it an element of their ascetical excellence that,, simply by the fact of their com-munal liturgical and monastic framework, they lead their members to an attitude of religious "objectivity," permitting them to go beyond a subjectivist self-awareness. It would be enough to hand oneself over unreservedly to this framework. This optimistic point of view seems to us completely outmoded in view of the psychological evolution that .is presently at work in mankind. With Rfgamey we posit the thesis that, for the self-aware type of person which modern man often is, a return to a "naive" attitude before the invitation of the transcendent is no longer possible. It is hardly a matter of adopting an attitude of pure objectivity and simply leaving the subjective aside. Many times one can conquer subjectivism only by going to the end of the road of self-awareness. III. Psychological Methods It follows that the renewal of the contemplative and mixed life---forms of life which, more than any other, require an objective attitude of soul--will be greatly assisted by in-troducing modern psychological methods in the formation and direction of the individual as well as in group work both within and outside the monastery.5 It is a question here of methods, basically very simple and human, which are more and more leaving their mark on the dynamic structure of the new society: methods of adapting to the social milieu and the mechanical aspects of our civili-zation, methods of individual and public relations, and so on, The younger generation accepts this very readily, moved as it is by that realism which accepts the complexity of 5 To avoid any confusion, let us say in advance that by the term "psychological method" and others like it we never envision psycho-analysis, which will always be a matter for specialists and which should be used with the greatest prudence. psychological facts, even blazing a trail through this como plexity to a new kind of simplicity, a simplicity that is arrived at by conscious, technical analysis. When secular businesses and organizations are profiting extensively and in a very concrete way from these multiple insights into the nature of maii~ it is unthinkable that we who are engaged in an enterprise much more important should neglect appealing to these same means--and that sometimes for lack of simplicity. For a Better Self-Knowledge As a first result of adopting modern psychological meth-ods, we would mention a Serf-knowledge that is more pro-found and better assimilated. In fact, contemporary psy-chology offers us an analgsi~s of the very depths bf the soul, that is to say, of those unconscious or barely conscious motivations which determine the. worth of a subject's involvement in an ideal. It makes us see the different types or psychological structures which can result from these motivations, the direction that the person's evolution receives from them, and the symptoms whose recognition will permit us to adjust these structures. The initiation into this "motivational" knowledge of oneself presupposes the' elaboration, based on what is called depth psychology, first, of a typology of the motiva-tion which dominates the commitment in question (here, in religious life), and secondly, of a method of individual formation with a view to acquiring a like serf-knowledge. This kind of self-knowledge will make it possible for the reflexive man to rediscover the attitude of spirit, feeling, and body that is called "objective." This attitude will mean for him a psychological facility in leaving the self behind and so arriving at a truly contemplative orientation. Psychosomatic Problems and the Contemplative Attitude Modern psychology has also served to draw our attention to the meaning of a certain number of psychosomatic phenomena.We have not hitherto taken sufficiently into account the fact that they are the symptoms of a psychic (if not moral) selfishness and that they also constitute a serious obstacle to the normal development of the contem-plative attitude and, consequently, of the apostolate it ought to inspire. Of these we may mention: general unrest of mind and body, an always hasty manner of acting, a yen for activity and change, impatience, certain forms of ennui-- understanding each of these traits as a permanent disposition which clearly dominates the psychological make-up of the subject. Indeed, the psychosomatic disturbances in question will often be largely the effect of contamination by the modern ÷ ÷ ÷ Active Monastic Orders VOLUME 23~ 1964 289 ÷ ÷ V. Walgrave, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 290 environment. But the mentality and patterns thus trans-mitted grat't themselves very naturally onto the seN-centered elements we always have within us. It is from these thht they receive their stability, while keeping their own form of expression. Hence, to avoid these disturbances or to prevent their growth, we must, before all else, call upon this self-knowl-edge which we have just sketched. The lived discovery of their ~elf-centered roots and the humble acknowledgment of the voluntary element which can be mixed in there will be decisive in the transformation of the personality in depth. In the second place (and only in the second place), there is the question of influencing the psychosomatic dynamism by methods which approach it directly on its own ground. The modern world, suffering so much from nervous over-stimulation, appears to be turning more and more toward a number of related techniques (Zen Buddhism, Yoga, etc.), seeking there, in an atmosphere of quasi-religion and mysticism, for definitive deliverance from its anguish. Everywhere one comes across religious who are seeking in some of these means a tonic for personal dynamism. It remains to be seen how far these techniques will be useful in the spiritual ascent of the Christian--the authentic fruit of grace. Classic Laws o3r Spiritual Evolution The renewal of methods of formation and direction should be accompanied by a restoration of the classic doctrine of the fundamental laws that govern the evolution of the interior life. At present, this doctrine is neglected almost everywhere or-is even unknown. The teachings of a Saint Thomas Aquinas or a Saint John of the Cross on this subject would seem to most people to be of little more than theoretical interest, treating of things which undoubtedly happen somewhere in the Church but which it would be dangerous to try to situate in our everyday lives. Now, it is necessary to bring clearly to. the fore the truth 'that the laws in question' truly dominate the evolution, the success or failure, of life in religion. Monastic life is only a .particular area of application of this same process of as-similation. This means that, just as it is true of the life of prayer in general, so also the regimen of monastic observ-ances and the following of the evangelical counsels can obtain value as an authentically religious expression only through a period of aridity and trial during which a humble perseverance assures us of the purification of our profound automatic responses and desires. Without passing that way, one cannot judge the Christian value of the elements which make up this life. Where, for example~and it is so often the case~monastic prescriptions are assumed only as a social arrangement that is the obiect of a critical regard or a playful benevolence, then they will become in fact, and very quickly; a useless piece of baggage. "Inevitable Crises Sincere personal ihvolvement' in the religiogs life and its process of evolution will inevitably lead a person through one or several cri~es of alienation and interior solitude. In fact, life in a re.ligious house, above all where that life is fundamentally monastic,'makes us enter upon a Christian perspective that is very clear, even radical. Everything there expresses the Christian'.s conversion to God. Intimate identification.with its specific forms of expression obliges us to a theocentric rearrangement of our spontaneous judg-ments, to a conscious revision of our earthly and culpable self-centeredness, a real "metanoia" of soul. This transition involves a man in a kind of migration. For, while advancing into this new country, we are leaving to that extent an old land so close to our heart. The feelings of strangeness and loneliness are only the expression on a psychological level of this spiritual exodus of the soul. "The resoluteness and perseverance with which we go through these often difficult periods express in a normal way the Christian commitment which inspires our presence in the religious house. Thus it is evident that these difficult passages are of extreme importance. Often, unfortunately, spiritual di-rectors seek only to "cover up" these crises, preoccupied as they are with avoiding all discouragement or nervous tension. Now, it is only by penetrating and making one's own the inner meaning of this situation while carrying on a dialogue of love with God that one will come to the point of a definitive entry onto the path of religious or monastic life. Only in this way can the nearness of God and the symbolic world of the religious house (above all, if it be basically contemplative) become for this person a place where he is truly at home. This means that the spiritual attitudes which correspond connaturally to this milieu have drawn to themselves and thoroughly assimilated the pro-fotind forces of our spontaneity. Formation to the Mixed Life It is characteristic of the mixed life, as we have said, that the apostolate, the end of the order, is intimately bound up with the contemplative form of life. Evidently, the harmoni-zation of these two attitudes, contemplative and active, is not easy for anyone. From the viewpoint of formation, it requires not only a preparation for a contemplative attitude (all the more explicit as it will have to be able to witl~stand the skirmishes and shocks of an intense activity) but also a formation to the mixed life as such. This seems to us to imply that the young religious be given + + + Active Monastic VOLUME 23, 1964 291 V. Walgrave, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS brief and well-defined apostolic tasks even .before the end of ¯ their theoretical education. This formation should be completed later, during the first period of the apostolate, by a kind of guidance not unlike the "supervision" used in the formation of social workers. It will be aimed not only at the strictly technical aspects of the apostolate and its religious efficacy in souls but also fat the personal problems posed by the attempt to reconcile action with the requirements of the contemplative life. The method of "supervision" is basically simple and .natural, but it requires a technical preparation. Its practice takes much time, requires great effort and a perfectly com-mitted interest on the part of the '~supervisor," Let us repeat here that the functional simplicity which it supposes cor-responds perfectly to the spiritual .orientation of the new generation. Taking into account the daring nature of the enterprise, one might finally ask if the formation to the mixed life, in order to be sufficiently efficacious, ought not to be completed near the end of the first active period (33-35 years of age?) by a return of several months duration to a way of life more " clearly contemplative. This period of "retreat" would per-mit a reappraisal in depth of the genekal direction that one has taken in his life as well as of the various notions that have been the basis of his spontaneous action. In this way could be prevented certain fixations in the realm of our judgments and inner attitudes which often seriously hinder the progress of the soul as well as the fruitfulness of the apostolate. Besides, this period.would make available the time necessary to fill up those gaps in one's knowledge (Sacred Scripture, dogma, or moral) theology which he has felt to exist during the course of his ministry. In general, when in the milieu of the ancient orders such an idea is easily rejected, this is not because (as is usually pretended) a return to an intensified recollection would be something superfluous for us who lead a partly contempla-tive life. On the contrary, if the very idea of such a return is enough to cause an unpleasant chili (another novitiate D, it is because we have never deeply assimilated the con-templative part of our life. Another indication of this situation can be seen in the many mitigations made for some time now in the arrange-ment of the annual retreat. It is true that these mitigations often increase the spiritual yield of the retreat. But this comes simply from the fact that the subject himself has become incapable of giving himself profoundly to a.re°re exacting regimen. Such a program represents an ideal from which he feels too far removed and in which he hardly believes any more. His need for authenticity impels him to reject it. IV. True Religious Houses If an order of mixed life is to be able to live up to its vocation, it is necessary that the majority of its members really participate in this type of life by residing in a "nor-mal" religious house; that.is to say one in which,the monastic prescriptions of the particular order are honored. In many countries the number of these houses is limited to the houses 'of formation. This amounts to saying that in practic~e the "mixed life" is conceived of in two successive stages: a contemplative regime, preparing for a life that is merely active. Even more complicated is the question of determining how large a house should be in Order that'it can provide the minimum requisite for monastic life and atmosphere while at the same time giving its members the freedom necessary for an active ministry. This will depend very much on the general conception of the particular order: 1. In an order whose tradition has always placed the accent upon a retired life in a strongly contemplative environment and that has conformed its methods of aposto-late to that, the number could be smaller than in another which conceives of its apostolate as a vanguard dialogue with the world on the mov, e. 2. In a mixed order where the contemplative life is founded moreover on the communal framework of choral office and monastic observances (such are the orders that are heirs of the canons), it would be very difficult to preserve its proper life without a system of large religious houses (about twenty persons in the Case of a very active order). The Choice o j: Tasks For the mixed life to be the rule rather than the exception, it will be necessary clearly to distinguish between the tasks that are reconcilable with this life and those which are not, whether by their nature or in the conditions of their exercise. In general, the acceptable tasks will be ones that have a directly religious meaning and that can be arranged in such a way as tb permit those engaged in them enough time for periodic and sufficiently prolonged stays within the religious house. From this it follows that the taking on of parish work ought to be exceptional. The repeated appeals on the part of certain dioceses or centers of pastoral studies to enlist the mixed orders into the pafochial framework imply a mis-understanding of the nature of their vocation. In the long run, the Christian life of a particular region, will not be enriched by taking religious away from a form of life that has an authentically contemplative orientation. Entirely other is the question of knowing whether the ÷ ÷ Active Monastic Orders VOLUME 2,~1 1964 293 rather large number of pi'iests living in the religious houses of these orders really means a sterile hoarding of elements that would be very useful f~r the apostolate~if, in fact, their monastic activity constitutes a waste of precious capital. Indeed, even if there is question of fervent priests, the result of their affiliation to a religious house will be rather negative if, psychologically speaking, they have not really entered into this monastic framework, making their own its proper orientation. If this is the case, would it not have been pref-erable forthem to have entered a diocese or a congregation with purely active g~als? This being the situation, if one wants to make it evolve in a direction more 'invglved in pasto(al work, he runs the risk of eventually compromising the future of a form of religious life that is extiemely impor-tant for the Church. Finally, we call attention to the fact that it is easier than it used to be for a mixed order to limit itseff to its specific vocation. The existence of.a number of "active" orders and congregations frees us from having to handle, many apostolic functions for which, in the past, we were the only ones available. A More Specialized Recruiting A profound unawareness concerning 'the ultimate objec-tive and the requirements of the mixed life reigns almost everywhere in the orders in question. As an inevitable consequence, a great number of people have beenallowed to. enter who are incapable of living the life in its specific sense or who are little inclined to do so. The presence 0f.these members is undoubtedly one of the greatest obstacles to the restoration of a mixed life worthy of the name. A more realistic and stricter recruiting of candidates is necessary. It is not enough that the candidates be truly interested in the specifically aPOstolic end and works of the order. Too often the monastic element and the contemplative orienta-tion are seen as secondary to the apostolic element and accepted only as something "thrown in for good measure." Enr611ment under this condition is devoid of meaning. In view of the present need for authenticity, the presence of a number of subjects so disposed must lead to an ever more radical dismantling of the monastic character of these orders. V. Walgrave, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 29,1 The Drive to Power and Fidelity to Vocation A group's attachment to its own influence in the Church is bne of the most frequent causes of an order's estrangement from its primitive vocation. Social psychology has convincingly shown how the drive to power can unconsciously inspire even altruistic and well-intentioned plans. It is this same process which is more or less at work in every society, not excluding the most sacred, and it constitutes that "too human" aspect of it which we must understand but never approve. Orders of-mixed life are especially, vulnerable to this tendency because they have to .defend their clearly contem-plative attitude against the pressure of an apostolic posture which is very conspicuous in the Church. The presence.of this danger is seen in the following practices: taking on tasks that are too numerous or unsuitable to the specific vocation; a view of the apostolate that is spontaneously in a spirit of competition; multiplication of small houses; lack of discretion in admitting 9andidates for the sake of numeri-cal success; a distorted presentation ofthe order's ideals, and so forth. The Christian world is less and less inclined tO accept in the Church and in the religious orders this com-promise between moral authority and the drive--whether conscious or unconscious !o domination. Consequently, the orders will see themselves obliged to conceive of their corporate orientation in a more spiritualized, more evangeli-cal manner so that the sense of their size and concern for their influence will no longer exert such pressure on fidelity to their ideal. The future of the mixed life can only gain from this. Are the Mixed Orders Too Numerous? Once we admit the ideal and logic of the mixed life in all their intransigence, we can no longer keep from asking whether the number of these orders is not too great to allow each to respond fully to its vocation. For the person who attaches more importance to spiritual fecundity than to the natural tendency to survival, the question is only too serious. Let us add two points which throw light on the import Of the problem. On the one hand there is the already wide-spread difficulty the contemplative life experiences in supporting itself in the midst of the contemporary world. On the other, it must be remembered that almost all the great orders of the Middle Ages have taken new life while a considerable number of new congregations have arisen by their side, each of them seeking to attract the necessary candidates. ÷ ÷ ÷ Acti~ Monasti~ Orders VOLUME 23s 1964 THOMAS DHBAY, S.M. Updating Puzzlements Thoma~ Duba]~, S~M., is spiritual dr-rector at Notre Dame Seminary; 2901 South Carroll-ton Avenue; New Orleans 18, Louisi-ana. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Anyone even mildly acquaintedwith the thinking of our American sisters in these mid-sixties is aware that there is.a steadily increasing and animated discussion among them dealing with projected apostolic changes in the life of religious women. And as his acquaintance is deepened, he becomes aware that the sisters'-reaction spectrum to the current theory and practice of apostolic adaptation ranges all the way from an eager, impatient enthusiasm through a wait and see interest to a fearful apprehension that the new is going to swamp the old. In our view the overall situation is healthy and the discus-sion beneficial; but, as is commonly the case, not everything that fs being said is of equal value. Some of it is occasioning pet~plexity--and, in a few instances, we think anxiety not too strong a word--among a significant number of our sisters. Even though disturbance is not absent among older religious, we are particularly concerned with the yotinger. Despite their great good will and partially because of it, these latter are especially susceptible to harm resulting from uncertainties in their formation and clashing theories in their reading. Our purpose here is threefold. We wish first of all to suggest two or three formulations of the updating adaptation problem, not merely in. general but as it affects the typical individual religious. Then we propose to set down as .we understand them the causes of the impatience of one group of sisters and the reasons for the fears of a second group. Finally we shall trace out the general lines of procedure which Sacred Scripture and the magisterium of the Church present as guides to religious communities in their actual efforts at aggiornamento. Formulations of the Problem In its popular form our puzzlement may be said to con-sist in conflict between the new and the old in contemporary religious life. Constitutions are currently being modified by general chapters. Some religious feel that the changes are not drastic enough; others are persuaded that they are too drastic. Some have no set opinion but simply wonder what is essential and what is not. This popular perplexity is sharpened by newly appearing books and articles and addresses that recommend apostolic practices at variance with traditional approaches. Many sisters could hardly be more wholehearted in their agreement with the recommen-dations, while others wonder whether they will work with women. The tension is heightened when in a given congrega-tion the difference in apostolic viewpoint (or 15erhaps it is occasionally more a difference in judgments of feasibility) takes the shape of superiors on one side and subjects on the other. A more basic formulation of our problem is rooted in two distinct scriptural streams of spirituality which for our purposes we may style individualistic-contemplative and social-active. The first current lays great stress on the soul's inner life with God, solitary, sheltered, intense, delightful. There are many more instances of this thought pattern :in the Old Testament than we may easily instance here. "One thing I ask of the Lord; this I seek: to dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, that I may gaze on the loveliness of .the Lord . Of you my heart speaks. [The new Latin for verse 8 is clearer than the English: "Tibi loquitur cot meum."] . How precious is your k.indness, O God ] The children of men take refuge in the shadow of your wings. They have their fill 6f the prime gifts of your house. ¯. Only in God be at rest, my soul. When I am with you, the earth delights me not . For indeed, they who withdraw from you perish .But for me, to be near God is my good; to make the Lord God my refuge.''1 This hid-denness- individualist current is, if anything, even more pronounced in the New Testament. The thirty-year example of the eternal Word is vastly impressive, to say nothing of His forty-day retreat and His habit of spending whole nights on the mountain during His public apostolate. What He did in His life He taught in His words, for He judged Mary who merely sat and drank of His wisdom better off than the busy Martha. And St. John tells us, "Do not love the world, or the things that are in theworld" (1 Jn 2:15), while St. Paul admonishes us not to have a taste for this world but rather to seek what is above and thus be hidden with Christ in God." "Therefore, if you have risen with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God. Mind the things that are above, not the things that are on earth. For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God" (Col 3:1-3). The second stream of scriptural spirituality is found especially in the New Testament and its emphasis is on the kerygmatic proclamation of the word to the whole of man- ~ Ps 26:4,8; 35:8-9; 61:6; 72:25,27-8. ÷ ÷ ÷ U~dating Pu=lements VOLUME 2~, 1964 297 ÷ ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS kind. The precept was given by the eternal Word Himself: "Go into the whole world and preach the gospel to every creature" (Mk 16:15). Its seriousness was more than once underlined by Paul in his words as well as in his life. "How then are they to call upon him in whom they have not believed? But how are they to believe him whom they have not heard? And how are they to hear, if no one preaches?" (Rom 10:14). "For woe to me if I do not preach the gospel !" (1 Cor 9:16). "I charge thee, in the sight of God and Christ Jesus, who will judge the living and the dead b~i his coming and by his kingdom, preach the word, be urgent in season, out of season; reprove, entreat, rebuke with all patience and teaching" (2 Tim 4:1-2). Brought up to date, this formulation of our sisters' apos-tolic puzzlement bears on the relative positions of prayer and work in the contemporary setting. And the pat answer, "a due time for both," does not answer all the sub-questions : Do religious women spend too much time in mental prayer? Is there such a thing as "apostolic mental prayer"? Should active communities still say the Office in choir? If so, how much of it? If not, what shall supply for the nourishment the Office formerly gave their souls? The third formulation of our perplexity centers on the actual mission state of the world today. In this shape the problem may be presented as a comparison between a single verse of Scripture and a few hard facts of twentieth century reality. The scriptural aspect of this formulation is the unvarnished divine precept that the glad tidings be preached to every creature: "Go into the whole world and preach the gospel to every creature," The hard facts which, seen under the light of this verse, should cause a keen discomfort are, first of all, that two thousand years later less than twenty percent of the world has so far accepted the full message. And secondly, the non-Catholic world, we are told, is in-creasing more rapidly than the Catholic. Still more, we have nowhere in sight a number of religious and priestly vocations. sufficient to cope either with 500 million faithful or the over two billion still outside the Mystical Body. To compound a nightmarish situation is the fourth fact of an appalling apathy on the part of the .majority of our Catholic laymen and laywomen. Now the comparison between the divine precept and the human facts sets in bold relief the final formulation of our puzzlement: Given the staggering situation of our missionary condition, how can we rightly continue to emphasize the cozy, contemplative, self-contained elements in the religious life? Should not the sister's dominating passion be the proclamation of the word? Does not aggiornamento demand that religious face the contemporary scene as it exists? Causes of Impatience We can perhaps trace out the reasons for a certam unrest among many religious women according to th~ three ways we have formulated the problem. It seems t~ us that a noteworthy number of sisters are dissatisfied ~ith some of the prescriptions of their ~onstitutions and Customs. Some feel that their religio~s habit is archaic and th.at even as it has been modified it remains an impediment to attaining an easy rapport with modern men and women, especially non-Catholic men and women. To many sisters the rule that they go out only two by two is consonant neither with the much freer status of contemporary woman nor with the actual .needs of the apostolate. The many permissions re-quired in convent life seem to be out of harmony both with the greater independence of women in our day and with like situations among religious men. These causes ofim-patience and others like them are sharpened when the sister subject not only sees no adequate adaptation in her com-munity but no great inclination in the administratiOn to initiate steps to attain it. Tl~e second type of reason for disquiet is a discontent with the present allocations to prayer and work in active congre-gations. We do not mean that religious are uninterested in prayer; but we do mean that some of them feel that the amount of time to be given to prayer, and especially vocal prayer, needs to be cut down. Many would like to pare down community vocal prayers, and some would extend the paring process also to the DiVine Office and even perhaps to mental prayer. The final reasons for impatience cluster about the manner in which religious women are as a matter of fact carrying out the gospel command to preach the word to every crea-ture, including the billions of souls still outside the Mystical Body. While we are confident that many sisters decidedly desire to work with children and would feel both uncomfort-able and inept with adults, there are others who prefer to work with mature people and thus get to "every creature" more directly. We think, too, that a large number of reli-gious are unsatisfied with the indirect apostolate of teaching English and arithmetic, of keeping hospital records and supervising nurses, and rather wish to spend themselves in an immediate apostolate of supernatural contact with souls. These sisters feel that they and their companions could be used more effectively by leaving the indirect apostolate to laywomen and rather engaging themselves in reaching directly the vast populations of adult women still little touched by the Church. The impatience here is rooted in what appears to be an obsolete and ineffective use of the apostolic resources of our consecrated women. ÷ ÷ ÷ Updating Pu~lements VOLUME 23~ 1964 299 ÷ Thomas Duba~, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Causes of Fear At the opposite end of what we have called the reaction spectrum to apostolic aggiornamento lie varying degrees of fear regarding adaptations that have already occurred or, perhaps more frequently, regarding others that are merely being proposed and discussed. We may note in passing that sisters who entertain these fears are by no means unsym-pathetic as a group either to the theory or the fact of adapta-tion. They see the likely good but are also concerned about the likely harm. What are these fears? We would distinguish three main bases for apprehension concerning current developments in updating approaches to the apostolate of religious women. The first of these bases is the simple fact that many sisters are not capable either natively or by training background to work effectively with adult women. The apprehension arises from the suspicion that religious now working fruitfully with children would perhaps be transferred to occupations for which they are prepared neither by disposition nor by education. The second cause of updating anxiety centers on the alleged inability of women to live holy religious lives without the safeguards with which their, rules have traditionally surrounded them. Without taking a position regarding this fear, we can say at least this much that not all sisters are convinced of the advisability of rule modifications which open the way to considerably more and longer contacts with the world. One might object that even sisters have to take risks, but this would be met with the rejoinder, "Yes, but how many? When do we reach the point where contacts in the world will do more harm than good to religious and their work?" At least some sisters see a problem here. Perhaps the most frequently occurring and the deepest reason for disquiet lies in the area of mental prayer and the need for solitude. Despite verbal assurances to the contrary, both formation and inservice policy recommendations by the mounting attention they give to a tension and time packed apostolate seem to these religious to be making slow inroads on a calm prayer life with the indwelling Trinity. There seems to be a clash between new apostolic emphases and the age-old Catholic insistence just recently reiterated that the first duty for a religious, even for a religious belonging to an Institute of active life or of mixed life is then to give himself to God in contemplation and out of love for him. Service of the neighbor" comes second only, in so far as he needs it and as the re-ligious is in fact entrusted with it by his Superiors? 2 Archbishop Paul Philippe, The Ends of the Religious Life according to Saint Thomas Aquinas (Athens: Fraternity of the Blessed Virgin Mary, 1962), p. 72. Archbishop Philippe is secretary of the Sacred Congrega-tion of Religions. Some of our ~isters are wondering why, if contemplative love is primary in the religious state, the contemporary trend is toward reducing rather than increasing the time available for its peaceful practice. Or to ask an allied question, if as Plus XI declared, a hidden life of prayer, love, and suffering is a more fruitful apostolate for souls than active works are, why are we meeting our apostolic challenges with a greater emphasis on action than on contemplation? Such, then, are the causes of impatience on the one hand and fear on the other that we have found among American sisters. We propose now to suggest some general norms of procedure which according to Sacred Scripture and the teaching Church are sound guides for resolving in broad outline some of the questions we have raised. Guides for Apostolic Updating First principle: the Trinity is the source oaf apostolate. The re-ligious who steps into a classroom or a hospital ward does not enter her working domain as a private person, as. the former Mary Jones or even as the present Sister Mary Teresa. She enters as a member of a supernatural team, a religious community on which the Church has bestowed a mandate. She is a sent person, a commissioned person. Im-mediately she is sent by her major superior, intermediately by the Roman Pontiff and the local ordinary, ultimately by God Himself. Her religious superiors have the. authority to mission her because they have received a share in the pope's universal jurisdiction, and th~ pope has his authority from Christ Himself, and Christ has it from the Father. "As the Father has sent me, I also send you" ~Jn 20:21). The sister; therefore, engages in her apostolate as one sent by the very Trinity abiding in her heart through supernatural knowl-edge and love. It is highly fitting, then, that she live in close union with the abiding fountain of all apostolic fecundity. Our first principle for solving our apostolic problems is, consequently, that the indwelling Trinity is the starting point of external works. Second pdndple: the sisters' apostolic methods must meet con-temporary needs as they actually are. It is axiomatic in scholastic philosophy that whatever is received is received after the matter of the receiver. A man who tries to cut a sheet of steel as though he were dealing with paper is going to have his problems. A religious community which operates in the mid-twentieth century as though it were working in the mid-nineteenth is going to run into some dead-end streets. The Gospels themselves were written differently according to the manner of the receivers. Matthew wrote in one fashion for his fellow countrymen in Palestine, Mark and Luke tailored their approaches to Gentile converts, while John proposed to write a theologically orientated account against the Docetists and styled his Gospel accordingly. Religious ÷ ÷ ÷ opaating Puzzleracnts VOLUME 23, 1964 301 + ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~0~ communities surely cannot afford to do less in meeting contemporary needs in a contemporary manner. The Holy See itself has said so much in the last two decades about the need for adaptation in the religious life that for us to say more would be to labor the point. Hence, our second prin-ciple is patent: however we are to meet updating tensions, our solutions will have to face and answer real problems as they now exist. Thirdprinciple." prayer, love, and suffering are the most Jruitful apostolate. This third guide to unraveling unrest and ap-prehension in adapting to modern needs is taken bodily from the teaching of Pope Pius XI. Speaking on the occasion of the canonization of a religious whose community neither teaches nor nurses, the Discaleed Carmelite nuns, tl-ie Holy Father remarked: "These are the most pure an~l the most lofty souls in the Church, who by suffering, loving and praying in a hidden apostolate hold the first place in bene-fiting all men.''3 Approving the Carthusian statutes a decade earlier in 1924, the same pontiffhad said perhaps even more strikingly that it is "easy to understand how they who assiduously fulfil the duty of prayer and penance contribute much more to the increase of the Church and the welfare of mankind than those who labor in tilling the .Master's field.''4 Several centuries earlier St. John of the Cross had taught the same truth in his own limpid manner: "A very little of this pure love is more precious in the eyes of God and the soul, and of greater profit to the Church, even though the soul appear to be doing nothing, than are all. these works t0gether,''~ Now if we pay this teaching more than lip service, we must in the actual ordering of the contemplative and work-ing aspects of active religious congregations recognize the primacy of the former not only in the sanctification of the individual religious but even in the sanctification ~ the souls . committed to her care. We have got to work, to be sure, and work hard. Woe to us if we do not preach the Gospel. But all the same, if praying, loving, and suffering are the most fruitful apostolate in the Church, we religious have got to be before all else contemplative sufferers or suffering con-templatives. Hence, to aim at updating constitutions, rules, and horaria on any other basis is simply to miss the point. If getting our religious women to mix more with the world is going to damage their love and prayer, the mixing must yield, not the love and prayer. If newly undertaken activi-ties are going to so wear a sister out t

Issue 10.2 of the Review for Religious, 1951. ; ~:~ - ~, A.M. D, G., ~ Reiciew for Religious St. Jos~ph;s Patronage . Francis L Filas ' Dominican Spirffuality . .~ Regknald Hughes Ten÷afive Tes¢incj ~ P¢ogram . Sister M. Digna, Peace . : . Winfrld Herbst Why Do They Leave.'! . ; . . . Anonymou,s ~uesfions and Answsrs Book Reviews ¢ Summer Sessions Communications VOLUME X NUMbeR~ 2 RI::VII:W FOR RI::LIGIOUS VOLUME X MARCH,, 1951 NUMBER 2 CONTENTS ST. JOSEPH'S PATRONAGE--Francis L Filas, S.J .5.7 THE FAMILY FOR FAMILIES . 66 THE ASSUMPTION . 66 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . , . 66 DOMINICAN SPIRITUALITY--Very Rev. Reginald Hugl~es, O.P. 67 FRANCES SCHERVIER CAUSE ADVANCES .7.4. : TENTATIVE TESTING pROGRAM-~Sister M. Digna, 'O.S.B. 75 PEACE--WINFRID HERBST, S.D.S . 81 WHY DO THEY LEAVE?--Anony.mous . 84 BOOK REVIEWS-- Catholic Social P,rinciples; The Nun~.at her Prie-Dieu; Recruiting for , Christ; .Patrology ; Religious Sisters .~ . ' . 93 BOOK NOTICES . . 101 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS . ;.~. . 102 COMMUNICATIONS ° 104 ' QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 7. Term of Office for Local Superior . 8. Obligation to Sick Religious under Temporary Vows . 106 9. Letter to Local Ordinary . 107 I0. General Chapte~ and Change in Constitutions " 108 11. Attwater on Apgstoli ~ndulgence . 108 12. Indulgence for Reeling Rosary . 109 13. Vote on Clerical Religious before Major Orders .109 14. Vows Reserved to the Holy See . 1 I0 SUMMER SESSIONS . 111 REPRINTS : SINGLE SETS . 112 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS,~ March, 1951, Vol. X, 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.I., Gerald Kelly, S.J. Editorial Secretary: ,Jerome Breunig, S. 3. Copyright, 1951, by Adam C. Ellis, S.J. Permission is hereby granted for quota-tions of reasonable length, proyided due credit be given this review and the author. Subscription price: 2 dollars a rear. Printed in U. S. A. Before writing to us, pleese consult notice on inside back'cover. S!:. Joseph's Patronage Francis L. Filas, S.J, ST. JOSEPH'S closeness tO Jesus and Mary gives him~a'degree of dignity and holiness which it is hard to understand. 'However, if we consider his position as Patron of the Universal Cl~urch, we can grasp to some extent the exalted rank God has given him. By studying the greatness of the patronage, we learn the greatness of the patron. , Like every pa.,tron saint, 5oseph receives from God a quasi-right to protect his clients. This precise relation of .patron "saint to client is difficult to express in our language, but the" fact is certain. The patron is like a father toward his charge, and a s~rong note of fatherly love characterizes his watchful care. The Communion of Saints is the bond that unites the Church Triumphant with the Church Militant and the Church Suffering. Due to this bond God grants the saints in heaven a special interces-sory power so that.by their prayers they can further the spiritual and temporal interegts of their brethren on earth. They invoke the merits they gained during their tim~ 6f pilgrimage, and by an act of suppli-cation they present to God~'t'bei}~requests for~th~ir clients, In this we rightly discern a manifestation of:the all-eml~ra~ing love which'Chrlst desires to flourish in His Church. ':'* Individual saints can freely be chosen as~patrons by anyone. In the case of some, however, it is fitt,ng that,~ttiey spec,ally watch over particular groups of people or types of~enterprises. Ordinarily, this fitness exists because of a circumstance df the saints' lives or some providential direction of their energies and prayers. Thus, the patrons' interests are more specific.ally those of ,their clients. Papal Pronouncements on Reason for St. Joseph's Patronage In the case of St. Joseph his patronage is the logical extension of his duties on earth. Although he was officially declared Patron of the Universal Church by Plus IX in 1870, Pius did not actually create him as such. The Pope. proclaimed what had already been a reality. St. Joseph's office as Patron of the Ufiiversal Church, a~ well as the dignity belonging to this title, was a corollary of the office and the dignity whichGod bestowed on him in making Joseph the head of the Holy Family. Reoieto for Religio,,s The decree of Pius IX makes this clear. "'Because of this sublime dignity which God conferred on His most faithful servant, the Church has always most highly honored and praised Blessed Joseph next to his spouse, the Virgin Mother of God, and has besought his intercessiob in times of trouble . Plus IX has therefore declared St. J~oseph~ Patron of the Universal Church.''1 The same termi-nology of "declaring" the Saint's patronage occurs in the Pope's decree of 1871.2 Even more detailed is Quamquam Pturies, the encyclical of Leo XIII concerning devotion to St. Joseph. "There are special reasons," Leo says, "why Blessed Joseph should be explicitly named the Patron of the Church, and why the Church in turn should expect much frdm his patronage and, guardianship. For he indeed was the husband of Mary, and the father, as was supposed, of Jesus Christ. From this arise all his dignity, grace, holiness and glory . "The divine h~usehold which Joseph governed as with paternal authority contained the beginnings of the new Church. The Virgin most holy is the mother of all Christians, since she is the mother of Jesus and since she gave birth to them on the mount of Calvary amid the indescribable sufferings of the Redeemer. Jesus is, as it were, the firstborn of Christians, who are His brothers by adoption and redemption. "From these cor~siderations we conclude that the Blessed'Patriarch must regard all the multitude of Christians who constitute the Church as confided to hih care in a certain special manner. This is his numberless family scattered throughout all lands, over which he rules with a sort of.paterr~hl" authority, because he is the husband of Mary and the father of J~sus Christ. Thus, it is conformable to rea- .~on and in every way becoming to Blessed Joseph that as once it was his sacred trust to guard with watchful care the family of Nazareth, no matter what befell, so now by virtue of his heavenly patronage he is in turn to protect and to defend the Church of Christ.''s The Recognition of St. Joseph's Patronage Its Historq This modern concept of Joseph's patronage lay hidden and unnoticed for centuries. Probably the first writer to call attention to it was John Gerson, the chancellor of the University of Paris. Gerson proposed St. Joseph's. guardianship of the Church in a set-lPius IX, Quemadmodum Deus, ASS 6, 193. ZPius IX, lnclgturn Patriarcbam, ASS 6, 324. SLeo XIII, Quamquam Pluries, ASS 22, 65.' 58 March, 19 51 ST. JOSEPH'S PATRONAGE mon to the. members of the Council of Constance, September 8, I 416. °The sermon had as its purpose the adoption of a feast of the espousal of Joseph and Mary. With deep anxiety the chancellor noted the disastrous results of the great Western Schism of 1378, a wound to the Church which was still unhealed. Gerson asked for al3proval of the feast of the espousal "in order that through the meri~ of Mary and through the intercession of so. great, so powerful, and in h certain way so omnipotent an intercessor with his bride., the Church might be led to her only true and safe lord, the supreme pastor, her spouse in place of Christ.''4 The suggestion made by Gerson was not acted upon, but once it had been put forth, the idea continued to recur to others. What really began to receive marked emphasis was JoSeph's part as guardian of the. Holy Family. This contained in germ the concept of Joseph's further guardianship of Christ's Churqh. It was next elaborated in the Summa of the Gifts of St. Joseph, a Latin book written by a Dominican, Isidore de :Isolani, in 1522. While depicting the exceptional honors he felt sure would be granted the saint, Isidore heralded the future with this prophecy: "For the honor of His name: God has chosen St. Joseph as head and special patron of the Church Militant.'.'~ The theme, of St. Joseph's guidanc~ of the Holy Family and of-the Church continued to run tl~kough the devoii3n~'as it flourished up to the middle of the eighteenth century. H~re, in.common with the temporal fortunes of the Church, it suffered a rela13se; but with the reign of Pius IX, a hundred years later, it. aggin surged forward. During the 1860's, various petitions'from bishops, priests, and the faithful were sent to the'Holy See, *asking for St. Joseph's full glorification in the liturgy and for the declaration of his patronage of the 13niversal Church. Three special, petitions were presented to the Vatican Council i.n 1869-70. ,It seems that these three were the petitions which immediately led Pius IX to make his declaration on the Feast of the Immaculate Conception in 1870.6 St. Joseph as Patriarch ~ Closely related to Joseph's title of Patron of the Universal Church is his title of Patriarch. Ordinarily, the name. "patriarch" is reserved for a man who is the father of numerous descendants. The patriarchs 4John Gerson, Sermon of September 8, 1416, Conclusion; Summa Josephina, 213. 5Isidore de Isolani, Summa de donis S. loseph, III, 8. ~For historical details, cf. Film, The Man Nearest to Christ, oh. 9, 10. 59 FRANCIS L. FILAS Review for Religious of the Old Testament deserve the title not only because of their ven-erable fatherhood, but also (in a spiritual sense) because of the Mes-sias who was to be born of their line. They were literally "patri-archs. in preparation," in view of God's promise of the Savior who was to spring from the Jewish people. St. Joseph was truly the greatest of the patriarchs, understanding the term in this spiritual meaning. Our Lord took human nature of the virginal wife of Joseph, and in this fashion the saint exercised the rights.~of father over Him whose spiritual posterity would embrace all the elect. Leo XIII explains how Joseph's. position as patriarch is linked with his offke as patron. "Conformably with the Church's sacred liturgy," the Pope writes in his encyclical on St. Joseph, "the opinion has been held by not a few Fathers of the Church that the ancient Joseph, son of the Patriarch Jaco.b,foreshadowed both in person and in office our own St. Joseph. By his glory he was a prototype of the grandeur of the future' guardian of the Holy Family. In addition to the circumstances that both men bore the same name--a name by" no means devoid of si~nificance-~'it is well known to you that they resembled each other very closely in other respects as well. "Notable in this regard are the facts that the earlier Joseph re-ceived spec!al favor and b~nevolence from his lord, and that when placed by him as ruler over his houkehold, fortune and prosperity abundantly accrued tO the master's house because of Joseph . Thus, in that ancient patriarch we may recognize the distinct image of St. Joseph. As trio. one was prosperous and successful in the domestic concerns of. his lord, and in an exceptional manner was set forth over his whoIe kingdom, so the other, destined to guard the name of Christ, could well be chosen to defend and to protect the Church, which is truly the house of God and the kingdom of God on earth.''~ ¯ . In the e.arly 1700's the Holy See was considering the re-insertion of Joseph's name into the Litany of the Saints,. from which he seems to have been dropped at some earlier date. In the study of this ques-tion, Cardinal Lambertini (the future Benedict XIV) published a st~orig defe'nce of Joseph's position as patriarch. He wrote, ~ '"That St. Joseph can be called Patriarch is proved from the fact that the patriarchs, according to the holy Fathers and both ancient ~nd more recent writers, were those who were the progenitors of the ;Leo XIII, Quarnquara Pluries. 6O .March, 1951 ST. JOSEPH'S PATRONAGE families of the Chosen People. Since, therefore, St. Joseph was the putati~'e father of Christ our Lord, He who is the head of the pre-destined and the elect, the name of patriarch is for this reason rightly and deservedly attributed to St. Joseph, and by- this very name is he a,ddressed by most writers. "St. Joseph was not the natural father of Christ our~L-ord and did not generate Him, but this alone can prove that he was not the father of the faithful by natural generation, as. were the other patri-archs. It doesnot hinder him from being patriarch in a more perfect and more exalted manner according to the "explanation we have already giyen.''s The Di~nitq and Ef~cacy .'of St. Joseph's Patrohaqe Joseph's dignity both as Patriarch and as Patron of the Church is most exalted, for these two titles recognize in,him ar~ excellence that is absent in other men. The wider the extent of his patronage, so much the wider must be its dignity; and since Joseph's patronage is concerned wiLh the entire Church, he is, reverenced to a degree that is subordinate only to the honor given Mary. The sterling worth of the saint's office is also measured by the perfection on which it is based. Because he ~cted ast the father of Jesus, his patronage is an extension of his office oia earth. Yet, his role as patroh is not based merely on. a certain fittingness, as is the case of other saints. Instead, his God-g!ven titles of husb~and of Mary and father of Jesus directly place ~the interests of Christ's Church close to his heart. All this has b~en solemnly con.firme.d by ,official papal decree. The power of Joseph's intercession appears from his holiness, from his virginal fatherhood, and from his relationship to our Lady-. We know that the effi.cacy of a saint's intercession depends in general on his love of God and on his glory in heaven. The higher a soul exists in glory, by so much is he more acceptable to Ggd. Joseph's holiness and glory are considered second only to the holiness and glory of our Lady. Again with the sole exception of Mary, no one except St. Joseph ever had a quasi-authoritative position over Christ. No other saint shared that intimacy with the blessed Mediatrix of all graces which only Mary's virginal husband possessed. This gives Joseph a tre-mendous intercessory power which the Church has officially reco~- SBenedict XIV, De Beatif. Serv. Dei et Canon, Beat. I. 4, p. 2, c, 20; n. 57. 61 FRANCIS L. FILAS nized. Among other indicative actions it has approved and indul-genced a Memorare in imitation of the same type of prayer addressed to Mary: "Remember O most pure spouse of the Virgin Mary, St. Joseph, my beloved pat~ron, that never has it been heath that anyone invoked thy patronage and sought thy aid without being comforted. Inspired by this confidence, I come to thee and fervently commend myself to thee. O, despise not my petition, dear foster father of our Redeemer, but accep.t i~. graciously. Amen.''9 The Univ~rsatitg of St. Joseph's Patronage It would appear that Joseph's patronage as understood in its full extent embraces all those who owe their.salvation to the redemptive work of Jesus and to the intercession of the Blessed Virgin. The reason is clear. Joseph was chbsen to be virginal father and virginal husband in order that the redemptive work of our Lord in co-operation with Mary might be accomplished. Hence, the saint's guardianship (which is the outgrowth of his protection of Jesus and our Lady) logically embraces all who participate in the fruits of the Redemption. Meditative consideration of the full meaning of Joseph's title "reveals still further consequences in another direction. Since the saint is patron of the whole Church, his interests must be more universal than those of othe~ sa.ints. Other patrons concern themselves with one group of persons; Joseph is patron of all. Resultantly,.writers have amplified his title so that they describe him as universal patron because Patron of the Universal Church. In other words, he is the patron of everyone in every class. Because he was a member of an impoverished family of kings, the story of his life heartens all who suffer financial reverses. Earning his livelihood and supporting his holy charges at the carpenter's bench, he fittingly leads all who work for a living. In his actions we discover a guiding principle that can often hold true for every employer. He can look to Joseph, who, while supe-rior in authority, recognized that he was inferior in dignity and used his authority with the utmost moderation and prudence. Thus, while on the one hand St. Joseph inspires employers to provide just wages and healthful working conditions, on the other hand his example reminds employees to return fair and industrious service for °Indulg. 500 days, S. P. Ap., Jan. 20, 1933; Encbirid. Indulg. (1950), n. 472. 62 March, 1951 ST, JoSEPH'S PATRONAGE wages received. , ¯ . . Against the purveyors ofthe false ide.ologies of our day, Joseph stands out as the antithesis of racial prejudice and international ha-tred. Himself a Jew, he suffered because of the political dreams of a monarch '~ho was mad for power at any cost. Welcoming the for-eign Magi and then living in exile in a not too friencl, ly land, he knew the distress caused by prejudice against color and against race, Joseph's pIace as father in the Holy Family shows a11 fathers how steadfastly they must strive to imitate him in cherishing and educating their children. No husband can ever offer his wife a degree of fidelity and self'sacrifice great.er than thatwhich Joseph offered our Lady.' Hence, in him we behold the worthy patron of the Chris, tian family. As head bf Nazareth, the first Christian religious community, he exemplifies' the ideal religious superidr~ the serv'ant of the servants of God. Simultaneously his absolute and unquesti6ning obedience to the messengers of God mark him dut as the mbd~l foe priests and religious.' When ~he end comes to his iS~riod of. service Joseph di~s in the presehce of Jesus and Mary and is made the.gr.and protecto~ at the hour of death--the friend who le~ds departing souls peacefully to their Judge. " ' In our own age st. Joseph's patror;age'of labbr has been particu-larly emphasized~ Closely coupled with thi~ '~mphasis was the new honor grfinted him in 1937 by Plus XI. 'At ~hat tlm~ '£he Pope dec!.ared him the patron of the Church's campaign again.st atheistic communism, for"he ~belgngs to the work~ing-clas~, and he bor~ th~ burdens of i~6verty for himself and the Holy Family, whose tender and vigilant hea'd he was.''~° Universal Patron--Papal Pronouncements ¯ We possess sound Church authority for, claiming St. Joseph as the universal patron of the Church. The encyclical, of.Leo XIII, after tracing the saint's present office to his earlier,vocation on earth, continues, "This is the reason why the faithful of al! places and con-ditions commend and confide themselves to the guardianship of Blessed Joseph. In Joseph fathers of families have an eminent model of patern~l care.and providence. Married couples' find in him the perfec.t image, 6f love., harmony, and conjugal loyalty. Virgins can look to him for their pattern and as the guardian of virginal integ-rity. " " ¯ ~0Pius XI, Dioini Redemptoris, AAS 29, 106. FRANCIS L. FILAS Review for Religious '"With the picture of Joseph set before them, those of noble lineage can learn to preserve their dignity even under adverse circtim-stances. Let the wealt,hy understand what goods they should chiefly seek and earnestly amass, while with no less special right the needy, the In, borers, and all possessed of merely modest means should fly to his protection and learn to imitate him.''11 The Pope's.Briet~ on the Holy Family is entirely devoted to the subject of family life, placing Joseph with Mary and Jesus as a family exemplar.12 In the words of Benedict XV, "Since Joseph (whose death took place in the presence of Jesus and Mary) is justly regarded as the most efficacious protector of the dying, it is our purpose here to lay a special injunction on Our Venerable Brethren that they assist in every possible manner those pious associations.which have been insti-tuted to obtain the intercession of St. Joseph for the dying.''1~ The Litany of St. Joseph The shortest official summary of the Saint's patronage is found in the Litany of St. Joseph, approved by Plus X in 1909. This Litany expands; as it were, Leo XlII's earlier catalogue of.Joseph's clients --"all the faithful of all places and conditions." The action of Plus X in sanctioning the Litany of St. Joseph for use in public services gave Josei~h one of his most exclusive honors. Only four other litanies have been granted this rare and signal approval: the Litanies of the Sacred Heart and of the Holy Name of Jesus, the Blessed Virgin!s Litany of Loreto, and the Litany of the Saints (with its" two' adaptations for Holy Saturday and the Vigil of Pentecost, and for the commendation of a departing soul). The use of a litany as a form of prayer dates from the very earli-est days of the Church. The word itself comes from the Greek term, lissamai, "I pray," Probably Psalm 135 is the prototype on which the first Christians modeled their primitive litanies: "Praise the Lo~rd, for He is good; for His mercy endureth forever." Here, after every statement of the Psalmist, the phrase is repeated, "for His mercy endureth forever." This repetition of the same prayer has passed over into our mod-ern litanies. When addressing God we beg, "Have mercy on us"; when petitioning a saint's intercession, we say, "Pray for us." In. this manner, God or our Lady (and in the present instance, St. Jo-l~- Leo XIII, Quaraquam Pturies. 12Leo XIII, Neminem Fugit, Decr. No. 3777, CSR. l:~Benedict XV, Bonura Sane, AAS 12, 313. 64 Ma~h, 1951 ST. JOsEPH'S PATRONAGE seph) can be honored under different titles but always with the same petition. There is. a very interesting feature about the Litany of St. Jo-seph. Unlike the older litanies which spontaneously grew out of separate and more or less unrelated invocations this Litaoy was com-posed according to a rigid grouping. Seven tides depict the role that Joseph played on earth: Two concern his royal ancestry in preparation for the Messias: "'Illustrio~ts descendant of David"; "'Light of patriarchs"; Two, his relationship to Mary: "'Spouse of the Mother of God"; "'Chaste guardian of the Virgin"; Two, his relationship to Jesus: "'Foster father of the Son of God';; ¯ ' "'Watchful defender of Christ"; and finally, one' title as "'Head of the Hotg Famitg."" In the second group of invocations, six llst Joseph's special vir-tues: justice, chastity, prudence, valour, obedience, and faith. In the final division of eleven titles, four address him as ex-emplar: "'Mirror of patience"; . "'Lover of povert~t"; ~.,. "'Model of workmen"; "'Ornament of familg life"; and seven invoke him as a protecting patron: "'Guardian of Virgins"; "'Safeguard of families"; "'Consolation of the poor"; "'Hope of the sick"; "'Patron of the dgin9"; "'Terror of demons"; and "'Protector of Holg Church." For the final word on the patronage of St. Joseph, probably no tribute to the saint's widespread and powerful friendship will ever surpass the words of St. Teresa of Avila, long become classic: "It seems that to 'other saints our Lord has given power to help 65 FRANCIS L. FILAS:" " us.in only one kind'of: necessity; but this glorious saint, I know by my own experience, assists us in all kinds of necessities . I only request, for the love bf God., that. whoever will not belie~ve me will test the truth of what I say, forhe will see by experience how great a blessing it is to'recommend oneself to this glorious Patriarch and to be devout to him . Whoever wants a rnas~ei to instruct him how to pray, let him chobse tl~is glorious saint for his guide, and he will hot lose his way:''14 " ' THE FAMILY FOR FAMILIES One of the first of.the Catholic pocketbooks (50 centsL to be issued by the Lumen Books (P.O. Box 3386, Chicago 54, I11.) is a reprint of The Family for Families, by Francis L. Filas, S.J. In this behind-the-scenes story of the Holy Fam-ily at home Father F, ilhs, a'Ibioneer in the Cana Conference movement in the De-troit area. shows mode~;n husbands,and ~vives how they can share the happiness.and inspiration of the Nazareth home. Father Filas, also the author of Tbe Man Near-est Christ, is giving a cours,e at .Loyola University, Chica.go, on the theology of St. Joseph (cf.p.age 111)' " ¯ ; THE ASSUMPTION Pope Pius xII, on Octob'e~- 31, 1950, in connection with the formal definition, decreed that the invocation, Qr}een assumed into hedven, ¯should be added to the Litany of Loretto after the iti:cocation "Queen concei~d without original sin." He also approved a new Mass which is to replace the Mass formerly said on the Feast of the Assumption. . , . . ¯ our cONTRIBUTORS REGINALD HUGHES is .pr!or at S't. Peter Martyr Priory, Winona, Minnesota, and professor of philosophy] and religion at the College.of St. Teresa. WINFRID HERBST, author and retrea.t master, is on the faculty of the Salvatorian Seminary, St. Nazianz, Wisconsin. SISYER M. DIGNA is professor"of psychology at the Col-lege of' St. Schq~astica,, Duluth, Minesota. FRANCIS .L. ,FII~A$, the author of The Man Nearest Christ, is teach, lug at Loyola University, Ch!cago. Illinois. ¯ 14T~resa of Avila, Autobiooraphg, c. 6, n. 1 1. 66 Dominican Spirit:u lit:y Reginald Hughes, O.Po, UST beca'use they were men, the Apostles differed in tempera-ment and char.acter, peter was impetuous and quick; Paul, fi~ery and brilliant; John, loving and gentle. More than this, they were entrusted with distinct missions. Hence 'we cannot be 'surprised that the founders of religious orders, those wh6 took the apostolic band as their inspiration, manifested distinctive character-istics. St. Benedict consecrated his sons in a special way to the choral recitation of the Divine Office. The childreh of St. Francis find the secret of their spiritual Father in his seraphic poverty. St. Ignatius instituted a militia which united prudence and versatility to zeal for God's greater glory. St. Dominic was inspired to form an order of preachers and teac~hers, a closely knit organization dedicated to the diffusion of Divine '.Truth. ¯ Our Lord Himself revealed this .fact to St. Catherine of Siena when He told her: '~'Thy Father, Dominic, desired that his brethren have no other thought than the salvation of souls by the light of knowledge. It is this light that ~he wished to make tl~e principal object of his. order, to extirpate the errors existing in his day." Truth, then, contemplated and preached, is the ideal of the Order of St.Dominic. How faithful the early disciples of Dominic were to'this ideal We learn from the Vicars of Christ. In 1216, Pope Honorius III approved them as "champions of. the Faith and l!ghts of the world." POpe Alexander IV recommended them in 1257 as "men steeped in the divine science, powerf.ul preachers." In 1266, Pope Clement IV could laud their order as the "Guardian of T;uth." Not only that, but these decades, penetrated with the spirit of Dominic himself, produced in his order the friar who became the incarnation in his life and w~rks of the idefil which his'spiritual Father had envisaged. "See the glorious Thomas. Wldat a none intelligence, wholly applied to the contemplation of my Truth. There he found supernatural and infused knowledge, and this grace he obtained more by his prayers than by study." It would seem obvious that an investigation of the principles of Dominican life and spirituality would fittingly begin with an inter- 67 REGINALD HUGHES Review/or Religious rogation of the Angelic Doctor and his writings. Therein must be found those cardinal principles which have inspired the spiritual children of Domin'ic Guzman for more than seventy decades; We shall not be disapl~ointed in our search if we turn to the Summa Theologica, Thomas' masterpiece of Christian thinking. As a primary and fundamental principle Thomas would seem to advocate the fullest development of one's natural faculties. God has created us for His honor and glory, and to help us fulfill this mission He has endowed us with wonderful natural powers and properties: a spiritual soul, with an intellect, will, imagination and memory; a b.ody, with the physical ability of achievi.ng our earthly destiny. Each one of these gifts of Almighty God has within itself the capability of being developed to a certain degree of perfection that we call natural. Our duty is to develop all these natural powers, however not of ourselves nor for ourselves, but with God and for God alone. He has given us all that we have of goodness; He alone preserves us in the very existence we enjoy. The realization of this principle is witnessed in a grand phalanx of preachers,.: theologians, scripture scholars, canon lawyers, mystics, ascetics, philosophers, s~ientists, medical doctors, historians, painters, sculptors, miniaturists, architects, artists, engineers, litterateurs, poets, and simple, humble souls who have taken their inspiration from St. Dominic and placedtheir own distinctive mite and talents where they might best serve God's glory. But Thomas would remind us, when we have discovered all that nature in its very perfection can do, we must realize that it is as nothing in comparison, with the life of grace, the supernatural life of the soul, to which life God has raised us. This supernatural order surpasses the powers and exigencies of every created nature---even that of the most perfect angel. God could keep on creating angels more and more.perfect, yet never by their natural powers alone could they attain to the least degree of grace, There is simply no compari-son between created natur.e, actual or possible, and the Divine Na-ture, of which grace is a real and formal participation. By nature God gives us gratuitously to ourselves; by grace He" gives Himself gratuitously to us. Thus nature and grace are as distinct from each other as we are from God--infinitely. The just soul is "a partaker of the Divine Nature" insofar as it has within itself the radical prin-ciple of supernatural life, the life of God. St. Thomas tells us that 68 March, 1951 DOMINICAN SPIRITUALITY. the sanctifying grace of a single soul is of more value than all the natural good of the universe, m.'9(~ than all created or possible angelic natures combined. " -:" We can hardly conceive ~( higher idea of the order of grace. Neither can we' admit that thei'e is in us the least germ of this super-natural life. It is absolutely and entirely "the free gift of Almighty God. We have, it is true,, the purely passive capacity of being raised to the supernatural life. .This capacity, however, is no greater in the most perfect angel than in the humblest Christian soul. o And if the latter die with a degree of grace equal to that of the most perfect angel, she will see God as perfectly as that angel does. Such are some of the notions of the Angelic Doctor with regard to the order of grace and the supernatural. Our Faith teaches us that we are destined to this supernatural life. Grace is but the commence-ment of it, the seed of our eternal happiness. The effects of grace, he says, are the healing 6f the soul, wounded by sin, original or actual; the incentive to good desires; the effective operation .of these desires; final perseverance and eternal happiness. Grace unites us to God in charity, supernaturalizes every good action, elevates and perfects us as creatures of an infinitely superior world. The necessity of grace is such that without it we canfiot love God above all things, we cannot fulfill all the precepts of the natural law, we cannot abstain from all mortal sins and we dannot persevere in a good life until death. This teaching of Dominican spirituality thus. emphasizes our complete dependence upon the grace of God~ Are we then reduced to mere machines? No. We have free wills and God saves no man who has not the dksire to be saved. But He does command us to pray, to ask for His. grace and assistance, to beseech Him to bless us with those good gifts which He has determined to bestow only when we ask for them.° By prayer we recognizd God as the sole Author of all good and we realize that we have nothing of ourselves but sin. Thomas used to say that since natural wisdom is the gift of God, man ought not try or hope to acquire it by dint of study without humbly asking for it in prayer. Briefly, these are three'guiding principles of Dominican spir-ituality to be drawn from the Summa Theologica: the development of human nature; the infinite superiority of the life of grace; our complete dependence upon God, with the obligation to pray and labor ceaselessly for His honor and our eternal salvation. 69 REGINALD HUGHES Review for Reli~lious The important place that this spirituality gives to the natural development of our superior faculties has occasioned an accusation of naturalism by some who preferred to consider Thomas more of a philosopher than a theologian. Some have held that the Summa itself savors more of Aristotelian wisdom' than of the Gospel and St. Paul. However, since St. Thomas possessed a very precise notion of the power and purpose of human nature, he comprehended better any, thing that deformed it, all that was unregulated in it. The rooting out and healing of human defects is always considered by him from the point of view of the first cause and the last end, God. He de-clares that true human renovation in our present state is impossible without grace, whose two principal functions are to heal nature an'd elevate it supernaturally. Hence when Thomas speaks of natural perfection and the acquired virtues which constitute it, he is speaking not only as a philosopher, but also as a Christian and a theologian. Dominican spirituality emphasizes as well the infinite superi-ority of the theological virtues of faith, hope, and charity, over the natural knowledge and love of G6d, and also over the natural knowledge of miracles and other signs of revelation. Our infused act of faith is not a natural act clothed over with supernatural mo-dality. It Is essentially supernatural. Its immediate formal motive is none other than Divine revealing Truth. Consequently, it is in-finitely superior to an act of faith made by the devil, founded on the natural evidence of miracles~ even though the devil has infused ideas more perfect than our acquired ones. From this point of view One conceives as well the inestimable value of the least act of charity, the elevation of the infused moral virtues above the acquired moral vir-tues, and the grandeur of the gifts of the Holy Ghost which render us docile to His inspirations. If, as for St. Thomas, fidelity to the Holy Spirit normally leads " one to the living waters of prayer, what should be said of the relation between contemplation and the apostolate? Does the intensity of the first demand the sacrifice of the second, and can the latter hope to be nourished by the warmth and light of the former? Dominican spirituality replies: the teaching of sacred doctrine and preaching ought to be derived from the plenitude of contempla-tion. In the language of St. Thomas these words have a very special significance. Contemplation is not ordained to action as a means subordinate to an end, such as study in view of a lecture, but it pro-duces it as from a superior cause. The culminating point in the life 70 March, 1951 DOMINICAN SPIRITUALITY of the apostle is the hour of Unibn with God in prayer. From this union he should return to men filled with the light of life, to speak of God and lead them to Him. Thus St. Thomas considers the active life and the purely con-templative life as means less perfect than the aposiolic life uniting both. As Christ and the twelve, the modern apostle should be a contemplative who gives to others the fruits of his contemplation to sanctify them. "°"'Contempla,re et contemplata aliis tradere," the motto of Dominican spirituality, are the very words of St. Thomas. With the hours of recollectioia which it exacts, contemplation, far from impeding apostolic activity, is its source. Thomas would say: where our contemplation ceases, there ends our apostolate also. Without it, without the desire to prepare one's self for it, inflated with knowledge, the soul radiates light no longer. Practical natural-ism envelops it and can wholly destroy it. Such divine contemplation as is demanded by Dominican spir-ituality makes one forget what flatters or bruises one's personality. It turns one always to God and souls; it suppresses the fever of superficial activity and spiritualizes one, causes him to act pro-foundly, to say much in a few words. ,~ Such a contemplative and apostolic life was lived by Dominic and many saints and blesseds of his religious family who preached and taught with indefatigable zeal and fire of which the Psalmist speaks: "ignitum eloquium tuum vehementer" (Ps. 1 15). That is one reason why Thomas himself is such a model of Dominican spirituality. Everything he did--pray, preach, teach, or write--he did with all the zeal and eagerness his heart could sug-gest. Zeal, he tells us, is nothing other than intense love, and the measure of our love of God is to love Him without measure. It is significant to note that Dominic, his successor, Blessed Jordan of Saxony, Blessed Reginald, Thomas, Pope Innocent V, St. Louis Bertrand--all died comparatively young. St. Catherine of Siena and St. ,Rose of Lima did not live thirty-five years, and the eleven-year old heart of Imelda Lambertini burst from the intensity of her love of God. "I feel and am persuaded," said St. Thomas, "that the chief duty of life, which.I owe to God, is in all my words, as in all my. thoughts, to speak. His praise." It was then the genius of St. Dominic that he placed his order as it were midway between the older monastic groups that had con-templatibn and personal sanctification as their aim, and the later 71 REGINALD HUGHES Review for Religious active orders that followed the Dominican lead in working for souls. Dominic envisioned the salvation of souls as the cherished fruitage of his prayer, his study and his teaching. Thus to the older monastic observances he added intensive study because there can be no opposition between truth discovered by study and contemplated Divine Truth. A Dominican does not contemplate and study pri-marily in order to preach and save souls, but he is filled with the zeal for the apostolate because through prayer and study he has acquired a deep personal knowledge of God. The closer a man is to Christ, the more apostolic he becomes. Dominican spirituality includes as well a liturgy peculiarly its own and" has guarded it carefully since its approbation by Pope Clement IV in 1267. It is essentially a Roman liturgy, and if any single peculiarity about it were to be noted it would be that it en-closes in its ceremonies a note of solemnity imprinted upon it by the antiquity of its customs and chant; that its prayers have a decidedly theological tone. In fact, it is the liturgy that rules the life of the Friar Preacher. Study, work, recreation, even sleep is set aside in favor of choral reci-tation of the Office, as the injunction of one of the early legislative Chapters of the Order notes: "The Office takes precedence of all our activities." It is easy to understand why St. Dominic gave such an impor-tant place to the observance of the liturgy in the life of his children. First of all, because it is divine worship par excellence, aiding one to perfect his duty of glorifying God. It also leads religious to the perfection of their state of life, because it is a simple and sure way to assimilate one's life to that of Christ, the model of religious. One might ask, what is the connection in Dominican life between the liturgy on one side, and study and the importance of the aposto-late ori the other side? The answer is that the liturgy does not take a religious from the essential object of his studies: God. The lit-urgy itself is the depository of Catholic doctrine condensed in pray-ers, in extracts from the Scriptures and the writings of the Fathers. It has been called living dogma speaking to the heart as well as to the head. T.he Friar Preacher in regularly dividing his time between study and liturgical prayer in no way sacrifices the latter but makes the former more fruitful. Frequent returns to choir keeps study from becoming simply an intellectual work and cold speculation. The danger of intellectualism can hardly menace one who joins 72 March, 1 ~ 51 DOMINICAN SPIRITUALITY study and preaching and teaching with the solemn prayers of the Church. The truth which the religious finds in his books, he dis-covers again in living liturgical formulas. Thanks to the liturgy theology can become a science filled with deep contemplation. As St. Vincent Ferrer has phrased it: "Through this interchange of prayer and study you will have a heart more fervent in prayer and a mind mor~ clarified for study." Not the least attractive feature of Dominican liturgical life is the perfect freedom which it affords~ in the matter of personal prayers. In the organization of Dominican daily life, everything conduces to contemplation. St. Dominic n~ver had any idea of limiting prayer to certain determined periods or forms. The earliest Con~stitutions consecrated the entire day to Go~d. When the Dominican is obliged to silence it is that he may bet-ter forget th~ world and himself that he may the better hear God. When he is placed under obedience to study, it is that the soul may be steeped in ~he beauty of the~ divine mysteries. Thus for him, study, liturgical prayer, - and pe.rsonal prayer suppose one another, sustain one another, penetrate ~n~ anothe~r. To violate them, to separate them, and to compare [~hem jealously would be to falsify the economy of Dominican life! In other Words, the Friar studies to pray better and prays that he may study better. If o~ were to seek characteristics of Dominican prayer he would find first that it is disciplined a,nd strong because saturated with the dogmas of ~he Faith; that it is humble, with a humility begotten of contemplation of the Divine M.ajesty: I am that which is; ~ou are that which is not"; and eminently free, because knowledge begets love and nothing is freer than tl~e love of God. Thus we find a marvellous ~ariety among the Dominican saints. Each one keeps his own distinci physiognomy, his personal tenden-cies, his preferred virtues, and b~ings together underthe same domes-tic roof differences of race, environment, and education. Yet they are all marked by the same distinctive note: the zeal for souls through the doctrinal apostolate. Each a[Ids his own personal note: a Vincent Ferrer, Spanish impetuosity a~d indomitableness; a Henry Suso, Teutonic mildngss and melancholy; a Catherine of Siena, Italian ardor ar;d harmony. It was th, le late Archbishop Paschal Robinson, O.F.M., who once said: "Dominican saints are wonderfully natural in their goodness." In order to prove our virtu~ and to increase our merit, God per- 73 REGINALD HUGHES Revieu; for Religious mits the power of death to exist in us. The body weighs down the soul, 'the flesh struggles against the spirit. Sin has broken the har-mony between the powers of the soul and their Creator. To re-establish order and to correspond to appeals' from our Saviour, vig-orous restraint must be imposed. Dominican spirituality does not ignore this, but prescribes the practices necessary to subdue rebellious forces of nature and to employ their liberated energies for the realiza-tion of the supreme design of Dominican life. It has been said that were a text to be chosen which should express Dominican spirituality, nothing could be more appropriate than the words of Our Lord set down by St. John: "The truth shall make you~ free." The children of Dominic have ever aimed at Truth and have. thus achieved freedom. Dominican spirituality has thus been likened to the architecture that flourished when the Order began its course in the thirteenth century--joyous and unrestrained-- springing up from earth as though it were part of the earth, pointing upwards as though it were part of heaven. "The Heavenly Husbandman, the Supreme Author and Protector of the Faith, has planted in the paradise of the Church as a fertile tree the Sacred Order of Preachers to exhilarate it by its beauty, to satiate it by the abundance and the exquisite savor of its fruits. Of superb aspect, filled with vigorous and dulcet strength, steeped in the morning dew of heaven, this tree is a source of life for the weak, of health for the infirm. Hence innumerable Christians, nourished by its salutary fruits, are endeavouring to shed around them its life-giving influence." (Alexander IV-~1257.) FRANCES SCHERVIER CAUSE ADVANCES After the Sacred Congregation of Rites examined the processes conducted by ordinary and apostolic authority relative to the life, virtues and miracles of the Servant of God, Mother France} Schervier (1819-1876), Foundress of the Sisters of the Poor of St. Francis (1845), the S.C. of Rites recently decreed the processei valid. Preparations are under way for the next step towards beatification, namely: the judgment on the heroic character of the virtues in particular. In this country the community conducts twenty-eight institutions including General Hospitals, Special Hospitals and Social Service Centers, located in .the Arch-dioceses of Cincinnati, Newark, New York and Indianapolis, also in the Diocese~ of Covington, Columbus, Brooklyn, Springfield in Illinois, Kansas City in Kansas, Charleston, Lansing, Steubenville and Albany. 74 A Tentative Testing Program t:or Religious Lit:e Sister M. Digna, O.S.B. THE interest expressed in the use of psychometrics as one means of evaluating the fitness of aspirants to religious life'~nd as objec-tive guides for the counseling of young religious has motivated the formulation of the following tentative testing program. The primary purpose of the testing program is to screen possibly unfit candidates before admission, or before they have assumed"responsi-bilities that they may be unable to carry¯ Unfitness is one of the indications that an individual has not been called to the life of reli-gion for, as canon 538 states, "Every Catholic who is not debarred by any legitimate impediment . . . and is fit to bear the burdens of the religious life, can be admitted into religion." Father 3osepb Creusen, S.,I., professor of canon law at the Gregorian University, Rome, interprets this further. He says, "But the presence of an obstacle which the subject cannot do away with of his own accord or the lack of aptitude, would suffice to show that this desire is the result of a call to a more perfect life in general, and not of a vocation to the religious life in particular.''1 How does one determine an obstacle or a lack of aptitude? Is it best decided on the basis of subjective opinion? Should scientific methods be employed? Communities now utilize the findings of medical science¯ What about the scientific findings in the field of psychometrics?. True, it is a new.field and one would never wish to rely on the findings of any single test or inventory as the sole deter-minant of fitness for religious life, but these data may implement or supplement other subjective impressions and observation; they may be good clues to hidden motives and personality "kinks" that may be corrected before becoming "set." Any testing program for religious life must necessarily be tenta-tive, for there are no tests, other than intelligence tests, that have been devised in terms applicable to religious life. In establishing a testing program for any community, one must consider such factors as trained or untrained personnel, interpretation of the data, and use of the findings. The ideal prerequisite is that some member of the 1Religious Men and Women in the Code, p. 129. 75 SISTER M. DIGNA Ret~iew for Religious community be trained in the field of psychometrics. As a prelim-inary step, several basic courses in tests and measurements may suffice. In lieu of trained personnel, the services of someone who is sympathet.ic to testing, who will conscientiously adhere to manuals of directions, and who will be extremely careful in interpreting results may be utilized. Much emphasis needs to be placed upon the inter-pretation of the findings, lest an individual be kept from the reli-gious 'life because of hastily drawn conclusions not warranted by the test or inventory itself. The examiner must assemble all types of information. The administrator will then make a careful study of all the data before recommending the admission or rejection of the aspirant. In case the applicant is accepted, the data may. also assist in orienting him to the religious life. A director provided with all the subjective and objective facts about the candidate can help him to a speedier and holier adjustment to religious life. ¯ Use of Intelligence Tests Other things being equal, a director can give better religious guidance according to his knowledge of the subject's degree of intel-ligence. Intelligence tests help one to gain this knowledge. One test, which may be referred to here as an example of the use of. intel-ligence tests, is the California Test of Mental Maturity, advanced series. This test has a number of significant features. .It is both diagnostic and analytical, and the scores may be interpreted in terms of mental ages and intelligence quotients: It includes items dealing with language fadtors, non-language factors, memory, spatial rela-tions, logical .reasoning, numerical reasoning, and vocabulary. The pre-tests are visual acuity, the purpose of which is to discover whether the examinees can see well enough to take the remaining .tests with fairness to themselves; the auditory acuity test, to discover whether individuals hear well enough what is said to them in an ordiliary tone of voice to warrant the giving of the tests; and a third to deter-mine the degree of motor coordinations the examinee possesses. After¯ the tests proper have been¯ administerd, the test results may be interpreted in terms of the language test data, which ale useful in indicating how well the individual understands relationships ex-pressed in words, and the non-language tests data indicating how well the individual ufiderstands relationships among things or ob-jects when language is not involved. The significance of these addi-tional data for guidance, selection, and placement is obvious in that 7,6 March, 1951 TESTING PROGRAM they Will make possible a more appropriate consideration of the real abilities of ti~e person. David .Wecbsler's interpretation of intelli-gence quotients for ages ten to ~ixtyu may be used: 128 and over, very superior; 120-127, superior; 1 I1-I I9, high average; 9i-I10, average; 80-90, low average; 66-79, borderline; and below 65," defective. What are the implications of these figure~ in any psychological testing program? First, the elimination of those unable to grasp the meaning of religious life; and secondly, the utilization of intelligence scores for determining the educational and vocational placement of religious. .In general, the intelligence score of the applicant is one more concrete evidence of the intellectual ability of, the individual. Those who are inferior or very low may need to be re-tested. If the score places the individuals below the low average, it is very doubtful whether they will be useful in religious life, unless the community is willing to assign them to very simple tasks. Then these questions arise: how well will they be able to understand the meamng and implications of religious life? How much benefit will they derive from the novitiate instruction? And will the community be willing to assume responsibility for possible custodial care? Personalitg Tests Intelligence is only one factor. Other factors such as background, personality, aptitudes, and interests should be considered when one applies, for admission into the religious life. Since the personality "from the philosophical point of view is too abstract an approach to give the necessary clues to the'individual's potentialities in getting along with others, the more concrete, approach is considered, here. The social skills which are basic to getting along with others are ski.lls that can be acquired. In community life gra- ¯ ciousness of manner and social skills need to be supernaturalized by stressing the virtue of charity as the- motivating force. What are the potentialities for an individual to get along with others and to sublimate the ups and downs of routine living with diverse temperaments? A personality needs to be free from nervous symptoms and introvertive or anti-social tendencies to adjust to reli-gious life. Even the most conscientious and holy novice master or mistress will succeed only in veneering a personality unless he recog-nizes the basic causes for certain personality defects. True, it may, 2The Measu~'ament of Adult Intelligence, p. 40. 7.7 SISTER M. D[GNA Review fol Religiou~ and likely will; happen that the subject makes a valiant effort to overcome these "faults,~' but if the fight seems continually a losing one, and the pressure of close supericision is removed, there is little doubt that the individual will revert to his innate tendencies. How detect these underlying causes, for maladjustments? No foolproof method of appraising personality has yet been devised. G~nerally, the personality scale takes the form of a rating scale. A definite assumption should motivate the use of any one of several rating scales. Most personality ratings have a number of valid uses if and when they are well administered. Common sense should operate in determining the purposes of the ratings and how they are to be used. Personal'ity tests are not as precise as or as easily interpreted as I.Q. tests; they are indicators rather than measure-ments of personality, and they p'rovide worthwhile leads to work upon for, symptomatic indications of emotional conflicts, maladjust-ments, tensions, anti-socialattitudes, and anxieties. A good person-ality is one that has achieved a balance between self and those around one. The self-adjustment is often indicated in terms of self-reliance, sense of personal worth, sense of belonging, sense of freedom, and freedom from withdrawing and nervousness. The adjustment toward others is interpreted in terms of social standards, social skills, whole-some gregariousness, family and social relationships. Among the several tests suitable for a testing program is the Cali-fornia Test of PerSonality. It includes items that will reveal the presence or absence of desirable or undesirable traits. The test is easy to administer and easy to score and, although the interpretation of the scores is almost self-evident, it is. wise for the one who interprets the test to explore further and probe deeper the other data on the person, particularly the intelligence quotient, the family history, and previous schooling record. In general, letters of recommendation are not too reliable, for tile tendency of.many, flattered by having to recommend an individual, is to put a halo around the person. The expressed purpose of the authors of the California Personality Test is to enable counselors to appraise and to improve thh personality of all ages. This instrument" makes possible a detailed and patterned diagnosis of personality adjustment as a basis for improvement that is possible of realization. Another test, the Bell Adjustment Inventory, attempts to get a reliable measure of an individual's personality in ihe areas of home, health, social, emotional, and occupational adjustments. This inven- 78 March, 1951 A TESTING PROGRAM tory is not more: than thirty minutes in length and it is easy to ad-minister, with simple and clear directions. The time for scoring each' test is not more than three minutes. In utilizing the inventory, the administrator needs to realize that, whereas it is more objective and more penetrating than observation, the results should be used only to implement other data. The Personality Inventory by Bernreuter has four specific areas which are assessed. B1-N is a measure of neurotic tendencies. A person scoring high on this scale tends to be emotionally unstable. Those scoring above the 98~percentile would probably need psychi-atric or medical advice, and certainly one would be hesitant about admitting aspirants to religious life with exceptionally oh'igh scores in this area without further consultation with a medical man. The B2-S is a measure of self-sufficiency.' Persons scoring high on this scale prefer to be alone, rarely ask for sympathy or encourggement, and tend to ignore the advice of others. The low score indicates the type of personality disliking to be alone, and often seeking advice of others. Perhaps scores on this section would in no way debar the aspirant from admission into religious life or from the priesthood, but in directing and guiding the individual, the scores offer clues to innate causes for externaI behavior. Modification of undesirable behavior patterns can best be attained by a.clear understanding of the innate causes. The B3-1 section of the Bernreuter Inventory meas-ures introversion-extroversion, with the high scores indicating intro-version, the low, extroversion. A score above the 98 percentile in this part of the inventory bears a similar significance to a high score on the BI-H section. The B4-D classifies the personality of the individual as either dominant or submissive. Low scores represent the naturally submissive type of individual. The use of the Minnesota Personality Scale and its interpreta~ tion was explained in considerable detail in a previou, s article.8 Unless there are trained individuals for interpreting the results, a community is wise to begin a testing program without attempting the more refined techniques of personality assessment through such projective techniques as the Rorschach Method. The Thematic Apperception Test or the Minnesota Multiphasic Personality Inven-tory should be administered and interpreted only by individuals trained to do so. As an initial step, it seems wiser to resort to the 8"Practical Application of Psychometrics to Religious Life," by Sister M. Digna, O.S.B., in REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, IX, 132-39. 79 SISTER M. DIGNA " Reoieto for Religious simpler tests that can be administered and interpreted by a beginner before attempting to use more penetgating tests. Other Tests To insure better adjustment in religious life, some cognizance might well be taken of the individual interest and occupational pref- .erences. General and occupational interest inventories reveal whether the level, types, and fields of work offered meet the interests and the needs of the individuals. In planning effective community place-ment, an appraisal of the competencies, strengths, and weaknesses of the individual as they relate to a given area of worl~ or a specific task will often insure greater satisfaction on the part of the community as well as th~ individual. Two rather well-known and fairly reliable tests are the Kuder Preference Record, and Strong's Interest Blank. The Kuder Pref- .erence Record determines the types of activities which people prefer. The manual lists typical occupations which may correspond to the :preferred type of activity. Scores are designed to be recorded in the form of a graphic profile showing the percentile rank of the indi-vidual for each type of activity. Form BB gives scores for the fol-lowing activities: mechanical, computational, scientific, persuasive, artistic, literary, musical, social service, and clerical. The test is easy to administer, to, correct, and to interpret. Strong's Vocational In-terest Blank, one for women and one for men, is considered by some authorities more reliable than that of Kuder, but the scoring is very difficult. It is advisable to bare the answer sheets scored by machine, which costs from fifty cents to a dollar for each blank. The under-lying purpose of this appraisal of vocational interest is to indicate how closely the individual's interests correspond, with those of men and women successfully engaged in certain occupations. There are over 35 occupations, six occupational groups and three non-occupa-tional traits for men; for women, over 17 occupations and one non-occupational trait. Since there is a re!ationship between the level of the intelligence quotient and adult occupational adjustment, the following classifica-tion of Bernreuter and Cart4 may be of interest to those who wish to think of future work in terms of measured ability. These au-thorities believe .that the person with superior intelligence (115 and 4"The Interpretation of I.Q.'s on the L-M Stanford-Binet." in Journal of Educa-tional Psychology, XXIX, 312-14. 80 March, 195 l PEACE upward) will be best qualified for professional work requiring college or university training, the individual having a measured normal in-telligence quotient (85-114) will succeed in work requiring high school training, and the low average or dull person with an intelli-gence quotient between 70 and 84, unskilled work. The main rea-sons for using interest tes(s ar,e to isolate, evaluate, and utilize the findings showing aptitudes and interests which are required for the different types of occupations, An adequate testing program for religious communities requires the accumulation of objective, evidence regarding the competencies, weaknesses, and strengths of the candidate. The data should include information regarding the physical, mental, educatio;aal, vocational, and social status of the applicant. The findings need to be integrated as an aid in arriving at the most satisfactory conclusions. The obvious limitations of objective testing devices should be noted, but the failure to use them at all is almost certain to result in great inac-curacies of diagnosis, since personal observation and judgment are not completely reliable. Peace Winfrid Herbst, S.D.S. OF ALL the good things the Savior desires for you, one of the .first is peace. "Pax vobis!" Those were His first thrilling words to the Apostles assembled in the Upper Room after His resurrection. You must ever strive to acquire this deep, interior, lasting peace--a calm, spiritual contentment--and it must influence your exterior actions by making them deliberate and quietly, al-though sensibly, precise. Walking in the presence of God and unceasing watchfulness over your tongue are two means of obtaining and preserving peace. They are particularly helpful, even necessary for you. And there are two secret societies which you may join to your great spiritual advantage, namely, the KYMS and the MYOB. Those letters mean Keep Your Mouth Shut andMind Your Own Business. The careful observance of these directives means greater peace of heart than you would at first believe. 81 WINFRID HERBST Review for Religious You have been a religious long enough to know the calm and contentment that comes to one who reposes trustingly in the arms of God. "Thou hast made us for Thyself, 0 God, and our hearts are not at rest until they rest in Thee." How well you have learned to understand and to feel this, even here below. From now on may yours be a lasting Pax in Domino. Remember the days when the thought of the eternal years, even with God, filled your soul With strange and crushing dread? It is a far cry from that day to this, when your soul is filled with peace and repose at the thought that you belong to God. How long it takes before we understand even a little! But, sometimes, after years of effort and meditation, a certain truth will come to life in a flash. In an instant we seem to realize--and the realization endures. Of late you have been much drawn to meditation on God, as He is in Himself, as thus set forth in glowing words by the Vatican Council: "The Catholic Church believes that there is .one true and living God, the Creator and Lord of heaven and earth, Almighty, Eternal, Immense, Incomprehensible, Infinite in intellect and will and in all perfection; who, being one, individual, altogether simple and unchangeable Substance, must be asserted to be really and essen-tially distinct from the world, most happy in Himself, and ineffably exalted above everything that exists or can be conceived." And then it came home to you with astonishing light and truth that this great God became also Man for love of you! And you profess your faith in the being and power of ~our God; you profess your hope in His wisdom; and you profess your love for Him as the Supreme Good. You pray to Him that He may ever give you the grace to rest peace-fully in the arms of His Providence--in a word, to be completely happy, satisfied, and content that you belong to God. The closer your union with God, the greater will be your peace of heart. You realize this; and that is why there comes from the very depths of your heart the longing prayer: "0 my God, would that I could attain my ideal in the matter of my daily Mass and Com-munion and Office; my evaluation of my vocation; the perfect ob-servance of the Rule; the most perfect observance of the vows, which make me a religious; the spiritual exercises of every day, all of them, during the whole time prescribed! How happy I would then be! My ideal is ever before me. It is clear and definite, outlined in my "law book," the constitutions. To reach it means sanctity. But strive as I may--and the past years have literally been years of be- 82 Ma~h, 195l PEACE ¯ ginnings--I do not seem to be able to attain the heights. Help me, my Savior, to go forward slowly but surely, in a calm, sensible, de-termined way. Come, Holy Ghost, guide me always through those who speak to me in conferences, sermons, chapter exhortations, con-fessional advice, retreat considerations, spiritu,al books--guide me always; for Thou knowest how much circumstances make it neces-sary for me to be thus guided by Thee. Then will I have that peace of heart which surpasses all understanding." Peace will abound in your spiritual life if you let your reverence for God manifest itself by recollection in prayer. Try every day to pray a little more than is necessary, in order to safeguard what is prescribed. And after reverence for God must come reverence for your superiors, who take God's place in your regard. Show them the utmost loyalty, disregarding their faults. Thereupon must come reverence for equals or inferiors. Be sure to treat them all with the deference and respect due to the chosen friends of God. And in all these things there must be respect for self. Of yoursdf you are indeed nothing; yet you must reverence yourself and have great confidence. You must be a worthy child of your Father in heaven. You must-not be a coward and thus seem to make a failure of Almighty God. Pray to the Savior that you may be thus reg, erent. Peace of heart can be lost by being so engrossed in the Father's business that you neglect your daily prayers and spiritual exercises, or at least perform them in a maze of distractions. That will never do. You must never lose yourself in external activity to the detri-ment of inward recollection and union with God." Never let your-self be permanently overwhelmed with work or business. No; rather your vocal prayers must be said without haste; your mental prayer must be calm and quiet, with a varied method and a generous ad-mixture of vocal ejaculatory prayers. Your meditation may not, week after week, be of that more-dead-than-alive sort. Remember, in a practical way, that one prayer is always good-~"Lord, teach us to pray." Let this be your determined resolution and an oft repeated re-solve, one that means great mortification and corresponding progress in the spiritual life: "No matter when or where, I will perform all my spiritual" exercises, eoert.I day, during the whole time prescribed for them, and with devotion." Failure to do this means dissatisfac-tion with self, letting oneself go, ~nd consequent misery because one is not what one professes to be. It is a hard resolution to keep, but 83 ANONYMOUS Review for Religious the peace of heart it brings--and glory of God--is worth it. Do not grow weary of being good. It may be that some day, for a moment at least, you will feel such a deep, personal, sweet, and de-lightful love for our dear Lord that, thus athrill with joy, you will realize for the first time in your life what heavenly happiness means, what bliss floods the soul when it is united with God. It may be a feeling of being in the arms of God, all enveloped by His love, all filled with a sensation of peace and satisfaction such as you cannot describe. And when yot~ are dying that same feeling just described may come over you, so that, exultant in the thought of going home to 3esus, flooded with spiritual joy, you exclaim, in the heart if not with the lips: "Oh, I did not think it was so sweet to die. I am so happy. I am so glad to go. My soul is enjoying a foretaste of heavenly peace." Why Do They Leave? [AUTHOR'S NOTE. The reflections that follow were partly (not only nor chiefly) prompted by two recent books. Though differing in many respects, both books tend to give an unfavorable impression of the religious life. La Nuit est ma Lu-mitre, by Dr. Etienne de Greeff, is a novel by a Catholic doctor-psychiatrist, who is a professor at Louvain University. Instructive in many respects, it tells some unpleasant truths about religious, but fails to do full justice to the Catholic con-cept of the religious life. It portrays "those terrible vows" as a source of medi-ocrity more often than not and maintains that only exceptionally gifted souls would find in" them the starting point and permanent inspiration for more than human greatness. The second book, I Leap ot~er the Wall, by Monica Baldwin, is more literary but less instructive. The well-known bestseller tells the autobio-graphical story of an ex-nun who left a cloistered convent in England in 1941 after twenty-eight years of religious life and struggles with the problem of re-adapting herself to a world where she feels altogether lost. The Rip van Winkle experience of ie-awakening to the world, and to a world at war, after twenty-eight years "sleep" is rather overdone. The author's references to her past religious life fluctuate between two tones: one of slightly ironical depreciation of the antiquated standstill in which the rules and customs, inherited from the Middle Ages, freeze the nuns: another of a sincere endeavor to give "worldly" people an idea of what religious life really is and of how it is possible to live and be happy in it.~The following reflections are written by one who stayed for twenty-eight years and hopes to stay for many ~EW religious live for long in any order or congregation without seeing some of their fellow religious leave. This happens espe-cially during the years of probation, before first or final vows. It is only natural and normal. Religious in training who find out 84 March, 19~ 1 WHY DO THEY LEAVE "they had no vocation" go back to the world. It also happens, con-siderably more rarely, after the last profession. We may not like to think of these facts, but we cannot help knowing them. Perhaps it is good~ just for once, to face them squarely. Why do these religious leave? We who stay are perhaps compelled to answer this question for ourselves. We may and do sincerely endeavor to give a charitable and supernatural answer. Yet, is it not true that these departures always leave some feeling of uneasiness, at times only slight, at other times, when the persons concerned are closer to us, more painful and persisting? We do not mean to say that every one of them shakes our vocation. The grace of our vocation, thanks be to God, does not stand or fall with what happens around us. But the events we are speaking of do not generally leave Us altogether unaffected. They at least provoke reflection and prayer. They Had No Vocation? Why do they leave? The answer to our que,stion is complex, for natural and supernatural reasons fuse. We must endeavor to put them down as simply and sincerely as we can. The truth, here as elsewhere, will be liberating. Why do they leave? Because, we like to think., they find out they had no vocation. Often, very often perhaps, that may be true. A religious vocation" is a grace, and because grace builds on nature and perfects it, the grace of a religious vocation supposes a certain natural foundation. Without this, nor-mally speaking, it can har'dly be genuine. To have or not to have a vocation means that God calls or does not call one to the religious state. But how do we generally come to know the grace God offers? The signs of a true vocation are normally these three: (1) natural and supernatural aptitude to live the religious life; (2) a right intention, mainly or chiefly (perhaps not exclusively), inspired by supernatural motives: and (3) the desire or will to answer the divine call. "Candidates have the natural aptitude when they are physically, mentally, and morally fit, that is, when they have suffi-cient heal~h, gifts of mind and education, and sufficient strength of character and freedom from habits and inclinations that are not com-patible with a life according to the vows and rules and are not likely to be corrected by the regular training. When at the same time they have a sufficient spirit of piety, self-abnegation, and apostolic aspira-tions, born from and nourished by regular prayer' and the reception of the sacraments, then their aptitude is also supernatural. Let such 85 ANONYMOUS Reoieua for Religious apt candidates intend to join a religious institute, not only nor mainly to find an honorable state of life, but chiefly to work out the salvation of their own souls and to do much good, whether to pray and study, or help the sick, or teach and educate the children, or to go to the missions; or more definitely because they believe, after reflection and prayer and taking advice, that such is God's will for them. Then they have also the right intention. It is then enough for them to conceive the desire to enter the religious state in one of its institutes, according to the guidance of Providenci expressed in the concrete circumstances in which they live: school, home educa-tion, contacts, examples, advice from parents or teachers. Their religious vocation then materializes into actual fact. Those who so join have the vocation. It is officially sanctioned, in the name of the Church and of Christ, when the institute accepts their profession. How then does it happen that some religious, after years of actual experience of the religious life, come to believe and to find out that they had no vocation? Normally that is found out before long. When any of the three mentioned factors of a vocation is lacking in a notable degree so as to arouse serious doubts about the genuineness of the vocation,, the religious in probation or their superiors will generally come to know this in the course of the years of training. That such a previous mistake was possible need not cause any sur-prise. What was an apparent vocation may turn out a failure and ¯ prove a'sbam vocation. True self-knowledge is rare especially in the young who have little experience of life and of men. They may have deceived themselves or have been deceived in good faith about their aptness 'for a kind of life of which they bad but little or only second-hand knowledge. Even spiritual directors may have been misled into believing in a vocation that later proves not to have been genuine. When this discovery takes place during the years of pro-bation, it is not abnormal, for such religious to return to secular llfe. But after years of professed life this discovery can only be excep-tional. If it were not so, it would mean that no one could have a sufficient human guarantee of a religious vocation, in spite of the official sanction of the Church contained in the very acceptance by the institute of the perpetual vows. This would go against the whble Catholic idea of a vocation. It would come to mean that, counter to the very belief of the Church, the approved religious institutes are hardly a safe way to Christian perfection. And so it can only be due to abnormal, personal or extrinsic, circumstances that religious failed 86 March, 1951 ¯ WHY DO THEY LEAVE to test sufficiently, during the years of probation, the genuineness of their vocation. They Lost Their Vocation Apart from such rare and exceptional cases', the reason why pro-fessed religious leave will more often be different. It will rather be because theg lost their vocation. Yes, that is possible. What do we mean by saying so? Nothing else but.that the three signs of a religious vocation mentioned above no longer exist. They may have existed in a remarkable degree. At the time they constituted a guar-antee of perseverance in a genuine vocation. But then a moment came, generally not before more or less conscious and guilty neglect of rather important duties, when a gradual decline of.the physical, mental, and moral fitness made the fidelity to the duties of the reli-gious state harder and harder. Till one day these religious find themselves nearly without desire for their state of life and tired of the many duties and occupations that have become almost mean-ingless to them. When natural and supernatu.ral aptness for the religious life have dwindled close to unfitness, it is hard for men to maintain a right intention in the state of life t6 which they were secretly unfaithful. It is then only one step 'for them to give up the desire of an ideal that is no longer their own. And another step to translate into action a listlessness that is but the reverse.side of a hidden new longing which has taken root in their hearts and driven out the former intention. Such religious leave bechuse they lost their vocation. Does this happen without any fault of their own? In some blatant and rare cases the loss of a vocation certainly involves grievous faults. That is beyond doubt when serious and repeated breaches of the vows, to the scandal of outsiders as well, lead to the 'dismissal. These breaches may be entanglements in money matters, or consist in infidelity to the second vow, or in more or less open revolt against obedience. But it probably may also happen without definitely grievous faults. Regular and protracfed unfaithfulness in relatively small ma~ters of religious observance may gradually lead to a kind of tiredness of the religious state which .becomes an ever growing unfitness. Only if this infidelity be persistent over a long period of time does it thus lead ~o disaster. God's grace is faithful and powerful and may easily prevent the worst. But when grace is resisted habitually and persistently, that infidelity may well strike the death blow to a religious vocation. 87 ANONYMOUS Revieu; for Religious When a vocation is lost before the final profession, there is more likelihood that it could and did happen without grave sin. The idea of temporary vocations which some theologians of the spiritual life are inclined to accept would favor the possibility of such cases. God may in His Providence prepare some people for the role He wishes them to play in the world by granting them the grace of a few years of religious training. There are many cases of men and women who tried the religious life and were led to give it up, but remained forever grateful to God for the years they spent in the cloister. But after the last profession when religious have bound themselves for ever, and when the Church, in Christ's own name, has accepted their self-oblation, the idea of a temporary vocation is well nigh excluded. Not absolutely, it is true, because it is possible, though not probable, that Providence prepares one for a plan of His own by a long religious training. His ways are not ours. Every-human rule is open to exception. In Terms o~: Human Psycboloqq The loss of a religious vocation translates in terms of spiritual theology what on the level of human psychology we hear expressed more bluntly by various reasons such as: they are not happy; theg have enough of it; the[l can no longer. Have we not heard some-thing like that after a fellow religious left? They were not happy in the religious life which did not suit them any longer. They felt themselves like square pegs in round holes, out of place, out of tune with their surroundings, their occupations, their duties. How could they be happy in a state which, they dislike and for which they are unfit? That feeling of unhappiness was not just a passing im-pression or temptation. It had grown into a habitual painful state, an obsession with the idea of out-of-place-ness which left them no rest nor peace. Who will wonder if they came to acknowledge to themselves that "they have had enough of it"? It is possible for men to endure passing interior trials valiantly. Both natural courage and the strength that comes from God's grace enable them to stand the purifying test of interior tedium and moral fatigue. That trial allows hope; sooner or later it passes and leaves deeper and firmer happiness. But when there seems to be no end to the feeling of unhappiness, when natural courage fails, even health at times partly failing as well, and when, because of unfaithfulness to God, grace does not come to give strength to those who refuse it, small wonder that they grow tired, over,tired, of an effort which 88 March, 1951 ~rHY DO THEY LEAVE? seems vain and meaningless, too tired to sustain it any longer. "They can no longer." When these religious con. less to themselves that something has snapped in their spiritual resilience, irretrievably, they are but a hair's breadth from "letting things go." That psychological downfall did not, of course, (ome all of a sudden. Its gradual preparation was slow, spread over many months or years. For quite a time they may hav~ been walking, or staying, just on the edge of the precipice. Had they been faithful to God in p?ayer so as to hear and accept the ¯ warning and the help of His never-failing grace, they would have had the light and the courage to withdraw from that state of danger. But unfaithfulness to regular duty cut them off from that source of strength. Left to themselves in their pitiful condition of weariness and loneliness they came to tell themselves that it really was too much, they could no longer. They dare to make this self-avowal because meanwhile another light dawned in their unhappy minds. They need not be religious to save their souls and serve God. In the world as well they can be good Christians, do their duties, and gain. their heaven. Rather than drag on an impossible life in the cloister, be happy and serve God in the world! Have they not been told: "Better be a good Christian in the world than a bad religious'"? They begin to see they must and will have the courage to face the situation and to change. Rather than cowardly hide to themselves and to others the real state of things and insincerely carry on a hypocritical staging of a religious life, they will have the courage to leave. And so they decided to leave. Disappointment Why then did they leave? If we read through the phrases they tell themselves and others to justify the step they take, their reasons will probably come down, in spite of surface differences, to one and the same: they felt disappointed with the religious life. The real, perhaps ~lmost unique, reason why some religious leave is, in the last instance, their disappointment with the religious life. They dreamed of an ideal life of service of God and of the neighbor: prayer, devotion, self-sacrifice, apostolate. They found a prosaic reality far remote, on the face of it, from the ideal of their dreams. Ordinary duties, long and at times dry prayers, painful and harassing community life, uninteresting and difficult fellow religious to live with, ungrateful and often monotonous work with little interested 89 ANONYMOUS Re~ieu~ for Religious and uninteresting people, and their best efforts and merits often, apparently, unappreciated and unrecognized. Yes, there is a difference between the ideal of the religious life, such as it is seen through the eyes of enthusiastic candidates, and the reality of the ordinary daily duties in the cloister. To young ideal-ists the religious observance looks attractive. When, in the actual practice of that life, religious stop at the surface only, the partly romantic interest soon wears off. Unless they penetrate deeper into the h~dden meaning of it all and discover in a genuine interior life nourished with prayer and silent sacrifice the hidden Treasure for whose sake they sold all their belongings, religious miss the point of their vocation. It was understood, of course, in their youthful dreams too, that a religious vocation implled many a sacrifice. But these very sacrifices wer~ made to look so attractive and interesting that they became just one more thing, somewhat unpleasant yes, which they were to carry off in their magnanimous stride towards the ideal. But in the reality of the life in the cloister once the novelty of the exterior duties has worn off and with it much of their natural charm and interest, what remains standing out above the rest is pre-cisely the painful side of uninteresting, unappreciated, ever recurring little (and at times bigger) sacrifices which these duties mean to self-love, self-esteem, self-satisfactlon. Unless then a deeper and more powerful attractiveness of the service of God and of men has replaced the former superficial charm, and has transformed the unpoetical reality of daily duties and sacrifices into the mysterious communion of divine love, human hearts are apt, if not bound, to feel disap-pointed. It is perhaps the common experience of religious that the reality of their vocation is very different from what they expected it to be. But it can be different in two ways. It is either much more beauti-ful and more worth-while than they ever dare to dream it; though this beauty is generally different than their half-worldly' minds once upon a time liked to fancy it. Or it is much less interesting and much more painful than they formerly imagined. Much better or much worse! Much better, if faithful to the grace of their vocation they succeed in unearthing the hidden greatness and happiness of a life of union with God, an anticipation of what He prepares for them in a measure surpassing all human understanding. Much worse, if unfaithful to the call of daily graces, they do not enter into the deep meaning of their vocation and stop less than half-way on their 90 March, 19 51 WHY DO THEY LEAVE ? march to the ideal. All they .find is the soon uninteresting, painful, boring, and finally unbearable burden of many meaningless duties. Can they feel otherwise than disappointed? Unseen--Unreal? If some religious lose their vocation, lose their fitness for its real life and grow disappointed, it is because they leave out of their lives the very substance of that vocation: the supernatural interior life of grace and of self-sacrifice which is the love of God. The religious life, limited to its superficial aspect only, is unable to satisfy the deepest aspirations of human hearts. For those for whom the unseen reality of the religious vocation is close to unreal, it is hardly possible not to feel deeply disappointed and soon to grow disaffected towards the religious life. Sometimes the disappointed religious unwittingly deceive "them-selves into believing that their disappointment does not lie with the ideal religious life such as it should be, but with the reality they found instead of it. Neither superiors nor fellow religious are found to be as they should. If only the institute were what its constitu-tions and laws claim it to be, they would not have been disappointed. There may be some good faith in this frame of mind. But it lacks realistic sense. Where is the human institution without short-comings? Are not these very deficiencies the matter out of which religious humility and perfection are built up? Had these religious not lacked the interior spirit, they Would have been able to see the great reality hidden under at times defective appearances. They would not have been blind to the great good that, next to the defects, is visible to every eye. That hidden reality does not disappoint. The feeling of disappointment and disaffection need not always be acute. Even when it is only partial but goes together, in rather shallow souls, with the need for a change that has been called the characteristic unsteadfastness of our war and post-war times, it may lead to the same result, the loss of the vocation. This need of a change works all the more effectively when after a considerable num-ber of years in the religious life a certain detachment from human ties has naturally followed on the actual separation from relatives and friends. If meanwhile no new higher attachment has taken the place of the old ones, as is the case in the disappointed and disaffected religious, then some sort of feeling of "being in the air" easily makes the balance of hesitation topple over. Perhaps it is the working 91 ANONYMOUS Reoieta ~:or Religious together of these different psychological factors that is actually the more frequent reason why some religious !leave. Why Do We.Sta~? They leave. We, with God's grace! stay. Perhaps we must conclude the above reflections by briefly answering another question that may have been sleeping at the back 6f our minds from the first and is by now wide awake: Why do u~e stay? We stay, because we believe in the grac! of our vocation. He who chose us knew whom He was choosing and He is faithful. We stay, because, with the help of that grace, we sincerely endeavor to make and to keep ourselves ever more fit, naturally and supernaturally, for the life and the duties to which He called us. We stay, because day by day, with the help of His grace, we work and pray and sacrifice to preserve our vocation. For in spite of passing weakness and for-getfulness, of neglect and of failing, of humbling faults, we know that He reads our hearts and sees the sin.cerity of our desires, even when they are hidden under negligence an'd human frailty. We stay, because we are happy in His service. With the help of His grace He led us to discover something of the hidden Treasure that is His love, His very Self. He helped us see and experience, at times clearly, at times in a hidden manner, through the veil of faith, the great joy and happiness of sacrifice out of love. He helped us discover Him, our Love, on the cross. He let us experience the puri-fying and deepening effects of trial and suffering which He sends in many different ways, but always as the cross-shaped sign of His love. Our love grows greater and stronger and deeper when te.mpered in the crucible of sacrifice. Even the natural joys and the natural hap-piness of the religious life--for there are these as well--are purer and nobler and more thoroughly satisfying when our hearts have shared in Christ's sorrows. Because of this great and unshakable happiness, we shall never, with the assistance of His grace, have enough of it. For unlike merely human happiness and greatness, which always bears the risk of saturation and fatigue, the spiritual joys of the Lord, experience has shown us, sharpen our hunger the more we happen to taste' of them. Even for our share in His sacrifice we shall never say: "It is enough, or too much." His grace helped us experience that the greater our actual share in His cross, the keener our hunger and thirst after justice. With the help of His grace we shall always be able to accept the small and large crosses He chooses for each one of 92 March, 1951 BOOK REVII~W$ us. Never shall we say, "We can no longer" because we know that He never asks for any sacrifice without also giving strength and happiness. We stay, because we are not disappointed with the religious life and we know that, with the help of His grace, we sha.ll never be. The Lord does not disappoint! The human realities of the religious life do and will, no doubt, remain human, that is, imperfect in many ways. We know that only too well, from ourselves to begin with, and much more from ourselves than from our fellow religious around us. But we also know that these very imperfections are not disap-pointing because we see them and at all times wish to see them in the light of His love that transforms them into the precious material out of which He builds true, unseen greatness. We are not disappointed because we love our vocation, such as it is, with the persons and the places° and the duties and the circumstances which His loving Provi-dence chose and chooses 'for ds. In the light and warmth of His love, radiating from His and our cross, we know that "it is good for us to be here." That is why we stay. With the heIp of His grace we shall stay on, and work and pray and sacrifice, till we hear another call of His; when He will invite Hi~ faithful servants into His own home. Meanwhile, in our prayers and sacrifices we shall pray that His mercy accompany the unfortunate ones who left and the more privileged ones who stay.--Quid retribuam? What shall I render in return? Book Reviews CATHOLIC SOCIAL PRINCIPLES. By John F. Cronln, S.S. Pp. xxvlll -~- 803. The Bruce Publishing Company, Milwaukee, 1950. $6.00. Appendix~II of this book contains a 37-page annotated reading list. The length of the list is significant. It explains why many of us have experienced an increasing hollow feeling as we looked forward through the years to the day when we might.become well-informed about the social teaching of the Church. Through these same years .we have seen books and articles on the social question follow one another with such rapid succession that we wondered whether we should ever be able even to skim the surface of this literature. Realizing the Church's desire that we know her social teaching, and 93 BOOK REVIEWS yearning to fulfill this desire, yet we had to ask ourselves with a cer-tain helplessness, "What can one do to learn even the essentials?' One thing to do is to read this book. It will counteract the hol-low feeling with at least the wholesome food of accurate general in-formation on "The Social Teaching of the Catholic Church Applied to American Economic Life" (the subtitle). , So many and such comprehensive reviews of Catholic Social Prin-ciples have already appeared that it is unnecessary for me to give a detailed picture of it. The book is divided into three parts that move logically from the general to the particular. Part I gives general principles of Catholic social teaching: explaining the foundation, rejecting unsound theories, and culminhting in an exposition of the ideal social order. Part II considers concrete aspects of the social probiem (capital, labor, wages, unions, property, functions of Church and State) in the light of generai p~inciples. Each chapter of these first two parts begins with a compilation of pertinent au-thoritative statements, espec'ially those made by Po~es and hierar-chies. Part III surveys various attempts by American Catholics to formulate a salutary social program. There are three appendices, as well as an Index of Authorities and a General Index. The method of treatment is both expository and critical. The tone is moderate. "Extremes beget extremes," writes Father Cronin, "whereas modera-tion wins adherents." He should win many adherents. Experts in various phases of Catholic teachin[l might suggest improvements in Father Cronin's book when he touches on their respective fields, but they could hardly question its general excellence. I am content to recommend it without any reservation to religious superiors, teachers, and those engaged in the social apostolate. In fact, I would recommend it to everyone, but I thinkthose I have men-tioned would profit especially by reading it. And I should like to confirm this general recommendation with a number of quotations, but I have only sufficient space to refer to the question of our dealings. with workers. On this subject, which is certainly of great interest to all of us, Father Cronin writes (p. 360): "Problems connected with a living wage and the dignity of labor should be a special concern of priests and religious who are in the position of employers. In the past, our record in this regard has not always been good. Church institutions have at times been no-torious both for low wages and arbitrary practices, such as the dis-charge of workers who have given most of their lives to an institu- 94 March, 1951 BOOK REVIEW8 tion, and who are let out either because of old age or a change of administration. Cynics have remarked that some in our midst apply vows of poverty to workers, even though Canon Law makes no pro-vision for vicarious acceptance of religious vows. Undoubtedly, such situations occur with the best of motives. Church institutions rarely have adequate funds, so that their administrators understand-ably try to economize in the attempt to have the most money for the primary purpose of the venture. This would be especially true for schools, institutions of' charity, and even some parishes. Yet charity should not be served at the expense of justice. We should give good example in regard to the social teaching of the Church as well as in matters of piety. "Many bishops now require that wages and working conditions be considered in letting construction contracts. It would be most desirable that when bids are let, the award go, not to the lowest bidder absolutely, but to the lowest bid from a reputable firm which pays decent wages and treats it workers fairly. Likewise, the Church as employer cannot afford to lag behind in other phases of industrial relations, such as proper hours, working conditions, grievance ma-chinery, seniority provisions, protection from arbitrary discharge, se-curity for old age, and such normal features of reasonable employ-ment. These are usually matters of justice, not works of superero-gation. We should be more reluctant than lay employers to seek excuse from such obligations on the grounds that we cannot afford to meet them."--G. KELLY, S:'J. THE NUN AT HER PRIE-DIEU. By Roberf Nash, S.J. Pp. 298. The New-m~ n Press, Wes÷mlnster, Md., 1950. $3.00. This meditation book for Sisters contains an introductory chap-ter and forty-six meditations. The meditations are constructed along the lines of preludes and points; but the two preludes are called "Setting" and "Fruit," and the points are simply called "parts." Each meditation has three parts; and each begins with a preparatory piayer and ends with a summary of the points and a tersely-stated (sometimes only half-stated) thought called a "tessera.'" There is no colloquy; the nun is left perfectly free to formulate her own Oh's and Ah's at the conclusion of the meditation. The meditations contain too much matter for a single hour of prayer. The author recommends making them in parts, then re-peating; hence the book should furnish food for prayer for approxi- 95 BOOK REVIEWS Reoiew for Religious mately a year. The content is solid; the subjects are diversified; the treatment is sufficiently bright to ward off sleep during the time of preparing points. The book seems particularly apt for those who fol-low the method of "reflective reading" in making their meditation. And for those who prefer other met.boris of prayer to formal medita-tion it should be an excellent spiritual reading book. --G. KELLY, S.d. RECRUITING FOR CHRIST. By Godfrey Poacje, C.P. Pp. viii ~- 193. The Bruce Pu'bllshin9 Company, Milwaukee, 1950. $3.00. I opened this book with genuine enthusiasm. I had heard of Father Poage's splendid work in the promotion of religious and priestly vocations and I had seen his excellent booklets, Follow Me and Follow Him; and I expected something superb. But I closed the book with a feeling of disappointment. There is much wheat; but there is not a little chaff that should have been carefully removed before the book was published. The Introduction describes the tremendous need for more priests, Brothers, and Sisters,. and insists that there are vast numbers of latent vocations to meet this need, but these vocations must be fostered. The author concludes the Introduction by saying that it is already too long. I should say that it is too short. It is the best part of the book, and never once in the succeeding chapters does Father Poage rise to the same height. Subsequent chapters discuss the meaning of vocation to the priesthood and the religious life, the signs of such vocations, and ways of finding them among both boys and girls. There follow chapters offering suggestions to priests, teachers, and religious supe-riors for the successful promoting of vocations. There is an appendix on vocational clubs, an 1 1-page annotated bibliography of vocational literature, and an index. The book is replete with illustrative sto-ries taken from the experience of the author and of other successful promoters of religious and priestly vocations; and its main value consists in the lessons that can be learned from these actual experi-ences, The suggestions for teachers and priests should be very helpful; but I think that much of the chapter entitled "Suggestions for Supe-riors" will hurt or embarrass superiors, especially women. For example, there is the section dealing with the apparel that girls are 96 March, 1951 BOOK REVIEWS told to bring to the postulancy. It was with "bashful, bachelor eyes" that Father Poage (who seemingly had obtained the lists by pretending to be a girl aspirant) scanned these lists; and it is unfor-tunate that bashfulness did not guide his written comments. Concluding the paragraph about ill health as a barrier to a reli-gious vocation, Father Poage states summarily, "Invalids are not wanted." Besides sounding too harsh, this statement seems to need qualification. One purpose for which St. Francis de Sales founded the Visitation Order was to give certain types of invalids an oppor-tunity of serving God in the cloister. I do not have the exact words of the constitutions at hand, but the Catholic Encyclopedia says: "He exl~ressly ordered the reception at the Visitation not only of virgins but also of widows, on condition that they were legitimately freed from the care of their children; the aged, provided they were of right mind; the crippled, provided they were sound in mind and heart; even the sick, except. those who had contagious diseases." This is not the least of the charities for which the Catholic world blesses Francis de Sales. And I,,believe there are other institutes that are willing to waive certain physical disabilities in otherwise acceptable candidates. Regarding illegitimacy, Father Poage writes: "An invalid union makes the child illegitimate. This is an impediment to the priest-hood and religious communities." This is partly an oversimplifica-tion of the canon law on illegitimacy and partly incorrect. A child is legitimate when conceived of either a valid or a putative marriage. Moreover, if one who was born illegitimate makes solemn religious profession, he is by that fact legitimated, "and this would remove the irregularity for receiving Holy Orders without the need of a dispen-sation. As for entrance into religion, canon law does not make illegitimacy an impediment. I believe this should be specially noted, because many religious seem to have an erroneous notion in this mat-ter, When illegitimacy is an impediment to entrance into a certain institute, it is so by reason of the constitutions of that institute and not by reason of the. general law of the Church. And, even when an institute makes illegitimacy an impediment, superiors in the United States can generally obtain a dispensation from the local ordinary. It is understandable that a book which offers almost innumerable practical suggestions wouId offer some that would be open to dis-agreement. Father Poage calls attention to the fact that girls often enter the novitiate with the habit of smoking and he suggests that 97 BOOK REVIEWS Review for Religious superiors "obligingly set aside a smoking period for those who need it." Perhaps the phrase "for those who need it" places this sugges-tion beyofid controversy; yet I am inclined to think that those who need it would be rare indeed and that they might very obligingly do their "tapering off" before they enter the postulancy. Father Poage and I would practically reverse positions regarding ,association with the opposite sex before entering religion. He believes that aspirants to the priesthood or the religious life should cease associating with the 6pposite sex. And he apparently means not merely regular company-keeping with one individual but even dances and parties that include both boys and girls, for he tells one girl: "This does not mean you are to cut out" all fun and gaiety. Have a good time-~but with the girls and not the boys!" No doubt one could give good arguments to substantiate this view from documents of the Church and from the practice in some countries of having boys in apostolic schools and seminaries from their tender years. The Church encourages this, it is true. Nevertheless, normal social life at home or in a ~boarding academy or college is not the same as life in an apostolic school or seminary. And, at least generally speaking, it is part of the normal life of our high school and college boys and girls to attend parties and dances. A prospective vocation which could not hold out through such normal and wholesome associations would hardly be a true religious vocation, it seems to me. Obviously, I am not saying that there is nothing incompatible between planning to enter religion or a seminary and at the same time continuing an exclusive companionship with an individual of the opposite sex. Nor do I sponsor the advice that a boy or girl who has not heretofore associated with the opposite sex should "have a fling at it" before going to the novitiate or the seminary. But I see no need of discontinuing wholesome and general mixed-group rela-tionships merely because one is thinking of or planning on entering religion. Others may, and very likely do, think differently. The point is worth discussion. A final comment--a"fixed idea" of mine, if one will have it that. Throughout the book and even in his generic explanation of "voca-tion," Father Poage limits the term to a call to the religious life or the priesthood. In doing this he is conforming to a very widespread and popular notion of vocation. Yet I think that this restricted use of the term is both theologically inaccurate and psychologically harm-ful. Theologically, the term should embrace all states of life: and 98 March, 1951 BOOK REVIEWS psychologically it is immensely beneficial to use it as referring not only to the priesthood and the religious life but also to marriage and the single life in the world.--G. KELLY, S.J. PATROLOGY, I: THE BEGINNINGS OF PATRISTIC: LITERATURE. By Johannes Quasten. Pp. xvlii -I- 349. The Newman Press, Westminster, Md., 1950. $S.00. Up to the present, our patrologies have usually been works pub-lished in a foreign language and then translated into English. Now it is a pleasure to welcome a patrology published in English. It is also a pleasure to welcome a patrology which is the last word in sci-entific scholarship, interestingly written, and ~vhich always keeps, to the fore the needs of English-speaki.ng leaders. This first volume covers the beginnings of patristic literature. After an introductory chapter, the author takes up the Apostles' Creed and the Didache, then the Apostolic Fathers, Apocryphal Lit-erature, Christian Poetry, the Acts of the Martyrs, the Greek Apolo-gists, Heretical Literature, 'and Anti-Heretical Literature. The opening chapter is an admirable introduction to patrology and an up-to-the-minute and scholarly guide to research in this field. Besides dealing with the concept and history of patrology, the con-cept of a Church Father, and the language ' of the Fathers, it gives bibliography on the various branches of Ancient Christian Literature and on the doctrine of the Fathers, and lists editions and translations of Patristic texts. Then in each succeeding chapter an outline is given of the respective authors; each individual work'is studied and analyzed; to this is added information dealing, with the text, trans-lations, and studies of the documents; finally the outstanding fea-tures of the theological thought of the documents are discussed. Certain aspects of the work call for special consideration. An outstanding feature is its thoroughness. There is no document, in this early period or no problem concerning these documents for which one has not now a competent guide. A feature that is most welcome is the generous coverage of the theological thought of the authors. Thus--to illustrate--the thought of Irenaeus is presented on the Trinity, Christology, Mariology, Ecclesiology, the Primacy of Rome, the Eucharist, Scripture, Anthropology, Soteriology, and Eschatology. Finally, a new feature (which has long been desired) is seen in the copious excerpts from these ancient writings. The author is not content with telling what a certain writer thought, but 99 Book REviEws Review for Religious he lets him tell us in his own words. This isa feature that partly explains the interest and readability of this volume; it is this that makes the book not merely something which we use to consult, but something which we want to read for the joy found in reading it. It is easy to see how a book of this kind can be of great help to religibus. Those engaged in teaching patrology, dogma, or liturgy have a work that will aid them in research and in preparing their classes. No longer need we despair of having a patrology text that will interest students; no longer need the patrology manual be regarded as something as dry as dust. The religious engaged in teaching college have here a book that will have to be found on their reference shelf, a book "that will be very helpful in answering ques-tions about the Ancient Church. Finally, all religious will find here background for a better understanding of works which all through the ages have been spiritual classics; e.g., the Eetters of St. Ignatius of Antioch, the Acts of the Martyrs.--ALFRED C. RUSH, C.SS.R. RELIGIOUS SISTERS. An English translation of Direcfolre des Sup.erl. eures and Les Adaptations de La Vie Religieuse. Compiled by A. .Pie, O.P. Pp. xli -~- 313. The Newman Press, Westminster, Maryland. $3.s0. Superiors, spiritual directors, and retreat masters who have good eyes will welcome this helpful, inspiring work. The book grew out of two symposia to help the religious women of France meet prob-lems created by modern conditions. The papers prepared by diocesan and religious priests werd first printed in La Vie Spirituelle. In the English edition the French article on psychology was replaced by the article by R. E. Havard, an English doctor. The book has five sec-tions: the theology of religious life, the office of the superior, the knowledge required by a Superior, the vocation and training of reli-gious and adaptations in modern religious life. When ~sked what she thought of the book, a religious superior who had read it answered that she had bought three more copies, in-cluding one for her Mother Provincial. She also said: "I found Religious Sisters most helpful, excellent. It is clear, complete, yet concise, and the high spirituality makes it a real inspiration. If I do not do a better job as superior now, I will not have the excuse I had before reading it. I cannot say any of the ideas were entirely new, but the detailed application of the principles and elements of reli-gious life were, in a number of instances, so new that I do not feel I 100 BOOK NOTICE$ have absorbed them in one reading." More readable print is certainly desirable and also a book of the same calibre that grew from American conditions, but in lieu of both, the book is recommended. The benefits derived will compensate for the temporary snow-blindness that results from reading the soft, light print.--J. BREUNIG, S.J. ,~OOK NOTICES OUR CHRISTIAN DIGNITY, by L. Semp~, S.J., adapted from the French by C, Vrithoff, S.J., is a little'work, comprising nine confer-ences in the form of dialogues between a priest and two young men, which could serve as a'highly informative and inspiring introduction to the grandeurs of the supernatural life. In a way that is both popu-lar and theological it presents the principal aspects of the Christian's deification by grace, and at the same time make,~ them so many most potent motives for actu,.ally living up to the sublime dignity that it confers. Thus it would provide spiritual reading of the best kind: full of dogma for the mind and of consequent force and enthusiasm for the. will. (Catholic Press, Ranchi, India, i945. Pp. 98. Rs. i.) THE TWELVE FRUITS, by C. J. Woollen, is no mere theoretical explanation of the fruits of the Holy Ghost, but a concre.te, practical exposition of the effects which these fruits should produce in every Catholic. As a 'result, the book makes interesting and profitable spiritual reading. In dealing with the fruits a writer is faced with a real problem to distinguish patience from longanimitg and mildness or to show how continencg differs from ebastitg, but the author suc-seeds in making plausible distinctions between them. More. emphasis is placed on the fruits as effects to be produced by their possessor than on the benefits which accrue to him .from their, possession, though this second aspect is not entirely neglected. The chapter on patience is particularly well done. (New York: Joseph F. Wagner, Inc., 1950. Pp. viii ÷ 184. $2.50.) GUIDE IN MENTAL PRAYER, written 'by the Very Reverend Jo-seph Simler, fourth superior general of the Society of Mary (Marian-ists), was intended originally for use within that congregation. But others also came to know about it and to find it helpful, and now in this revised English edition it is mad~ available to all. No one 'book on mental prayer is ideal for all the very different mentalities of 101 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS men and women who cultivate that difficult art, but this one, simple, practical, and definite, should, it seems, prove very useful to many. It promises success to all who really have good will. A point that it emphasizes particularly is the importance of faith for growing in the ability to meditate. (A Grail Publication, St. Meinrad, Indiana, 1949. Pp. 167. $2.00.) In J~_SUIT BEGINNINGS IN NEW MEXICO Sister M. Lilliana Owens, in collaboration with two Jesuits, presents the first of a series entitled "Jesuit Studies--Southwest." The book is an ungarnished historical account. A hitherto unpublished diary of the mission of New, Mexico comprises half of the book. [El Paso, Texas: Revista Catolica Press, 1950. Pp. 176. $2:00 (cloth); $1.50 (paper).] A very valuable addition to .the literature on vocation is VOCA-TION TO THE PRIESTHOOD: ITS CANONICAL ~CONCEPT, A Histori-cal Synopsis and a Commentary, by .Aidan Carr, O.F.M.Conv. Dr. Cart investigates his problem from the po!.nts of view of history, theology, and canon law. His conclusions se~m to clarify and syn-thesize what was best in the pri.ncipal p.revio;is works on the subject. Directly or indirectly this study should be a precious aid to the many men and women who teach boys and thus have something to do with fostering and discerning divine calls to the holy priesthood. (Washington, D.C.: The Catholic University of America Press, 1950. Pp. viii + 124. $2.00.) , BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS [For the most part, these notices ate purely descriptive, based on a cursory exam-ination of the books listed.] BOOKMAN ASSOCIATES, New York. Like Clean Winds. By Sister Louise Agnes Morin, C.S.J. An-other convincing contrast to I Leap o~;er the Wall. "The story of a Sister who entered the convent to give herself to God and was not surprised to find what she sought--a life of renunciation." The book is illustrated by Michael Lyn Genung. Pp. 63. $2.25. Savonarola. A verse play in nine scenes by Wallace A. Bacon. This play won the Bishop Sheil Drama Award of the. National Catholic Theater Conference in 1946. Pp. 128. $2.50. CATHOLIC UNIVERSITY PRESS, Washington, D. C. Orestes Brotonson's Approach to the Problem of God. A critical 102 March, 1951 BOOK ANNOUNCHMHNT$ examination in the Light of the Principles of St. Thomas Aquinas. By the Reverend Bertin Farrell, C.P. A dissertation. Pp. xiii ÷ 140. $1.75. THE GRAIL, St. Meinrad, Indiana. The Familg Rosarg for Children. By Urban Paul Martin. A Sister of Charity has significantly illustrated the purpose, history, and method of praying the Rosary, as well as each of the fifteen mysteries. This booklet will help boys and girls understand and pray the Rosary. Pp. 71. $1.00. Watchu~ords of the Saints. A Thought for Each Day of the Year from the Writings 6f the Saints. Collected by Christopher O'Brien. Pp. 73. $1.50. Our .Ladg's Slave. ;The Story. of Saint Louis Mary Grignion De Montfort. By Mary ~abyan Windeatt. Illustrafed by Paul A. Grout. Pp. 201. $2.~. B. HERDER BOOK COMPaNY,'St. Louis, Mo. Art and Beauty. By Maurice De Wulf. Translated by Sister Mary Gonzaga Udell, O.P. In this volume a philosopher of re-nown considers the basic principles of art. Pp. ix q- 213. $3.00. THE NEWMAN PRESS, Westminster, Maryland. Catechism o~: the "'Summa. Theotogica'" o~: Saint Thomas Aqui-nas. By R. P. Thomas Pegu~s, O.P. Adapted from the French and done into English by Aelred'~q'hitacre, O.P. A condensation of the Summa in catechism form. A reprint of the work first published in England in 1922. Pp. xvi + 315. $2.75.' Shepherd oF Untended Sheep. By Raoul Plus, S.J. Tia.nslated from the French by Sister James Aloysius. and Sister Mary Generosa, Sisters of Divine Providence. This is the first biography in English of a Vincent de Paul of the eighteenth century, John Martin: Moye, priest of the Society of the Foreign Missions of Paris, missionary to China, and founder of the Sisters of Divine Providence. Pp. xv 180. $2.50. ST. FRANCIS BOOK SHOP, Cincinnati 10, Ohio. Walk with the Wise. By Hyacinth Blocker, o.F.M. This book presents forty-eight storles from the live's of the saints in very pal-atable capsule form. The treatment is marked by originality, fresh-ness, and a relevance to the present day that cannot b~ missed. Pp. x + 240. $2.75. 103 COMMUNICATIONS Reuieto for Religious THE SENTINEL PRESS, 194 E. 76th St., New York. People and the Blessed Sacrament. By Martin Dempsey. Our Lord never wanted the devotion to the Blessed Sacrament to stop in the vestibule. Father Dempsey shows how the Eucharist can influ-ence the entire lives of all: the bootblack, the doctor, the housewife, the college student and so forth. Should be good material for Forty Hours talks. Pp. 95. $1.50 [cloth] : 50 cents [paper]. JOSEPH F. WAGNER, INC., New York. Make Way for Mary. By the Rev. Ja'mes J. McNally. With a foreword by the Most Rev. Christopher J. 'WeldOn, D.D. A series of talks deriving from the Gospels of the Sundays of the year and showing the place of Mary in the Catholic's life. Pp. 272. $2.75. Commun{cal:{ons Reverend Fathers: In reply to,y.o.ur note concerning information on the question of vocations from Catholic Colleges which appeared in the November issue Of R]EVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, the following is presented. The statistics are given under the headings suggested in the letter signed "A Teaching Sister" and represent, as requested, the last ten years. ~,, Education Contemplative Social WorE 1941 ~, 4 0 0 1942 6 0 I 1943 5 0 0 1944 , .6 I 0 1945 IO 0 0 1946 13 0 0 1947 9 0 3 1948 4 I I 1949 15 I I 1950 13 I I Total 85 4 7 Left II 4 0 74 0 7 Total to enter religious life 96 Number to leave IS Persevering 81 104 March, 1951 COMMUNICATIONS The facts have been listed for each year because we feel they are significant of changes made in 1940. During that summer, under the direction of our Very Reverend Mother Marie de St. ,lean Mar-tin, O.S.U., Prioress General of the Ursullnes of the Roman Union, a study of the Traditions of the Orderwas made in the light of con-temporary problems. (cf. Ursuline Method or: Education, Marie de Saint Jean Martin, O.S.U., Quinn ~3 Boden Company, Inc. 1946.) It might be well to sthte that these changes were not made all at once but gradually and not without difficulty-. Under the heading of, creating a Catbolic Atmosphere and assuming that we are striving to give a profound intellectual formation, they may be summarized thus: ~ 1. Religion Courses centered in Christ;'a course in Church His- . tory in junior year; a course in the spiritual life in senior year. 2. Liturgy: Missa Cantata and Compline sung daily by those who wish to participate; on Sundays and feast days Vespers and Compline. ~ ~3. Oppqrtunity for daily confession and spiritual direction. Daily meditations are made for those who wish to learn how to meditate; these are followed by special written 'ones and gradually, with help, many students make a daily meditation. 5. Guidance: each student is given or chooses if they wish a spiritual mother. 6. Sodality: limited to those who desire to lime an interior life and to participate in the apostolate. 7. Specialized Catholic Action.: Young Christian S~udents. It is to be noted that the statistics reveal .an increase .in religious vocations with the classes which were the first to graduate under the new policy.--MOTHER MARIE THERESE CHARLES, O.S.U. Reverend Fathers: In response to your invitation to correspondenc.e regarding the article on "The Deafened Religious" in the oNovember issue, I should like to share some good news. There is fenestration surgery now to cure the type of deafness known as otosclerosis. Any otologist can diagnose this mose prevalent kind of deafness. Nearly every large city has a surgeon trained by Doctor Julius Lempert of New York, who perfected the operation some twelve years ago. It consists in making a new window in the inner ear bone to connect with the auditory nerve. Although a most delicate operation requiring some 105 QUESTIONS AND/~NSWERS ' Ret~ie~ for Religious time to recover, it is worth all the misery of accompanying sea sick-ness, due to drilling through the equilibrium center. I was losing my hearing for twenty-three years and wore-a hearing aid for twelve years. Doctor Howard P. House, 1136 West Sixth Street, Los Angeles 14, California, performed such skillful surgery on both my ears in successive summers, that I now have normal hearing. I was able to discard the hearing aid after the first operation. Much of the success would normally be due to the condition of the nerve, hence it is important to have the surgery done as soon as otosclerosis is detected, before the. auditory, nerve begins to atrophy. I find that this operation is comp.aratively unknown, so I should like to broadcast the almost miraculous .results to your readers. I cannot be grateful enough to God, Doctor House and my community for my return to normal communication. It is a new life. --S~STER M. CATHERINE EmEEN. S.H.N. ( ues ions and Answers ~7~ May a local superior who had been appointed for one year to fill out the incomplet.ed term of his predecessor, and who was then reappolnfed local superior for. one three-year term, be now reappointed for another immediate term ~:F three years in.the same house? If not, may he be ap-pointed for an additional two years to make up a' fatal of six years? Canon 505 forbids the same religious to act as local superior of the same community for more than two terms of three years each. The emphasis in the text "term of three years" (triennfum) is not on the word term, but upon the entire phrase--term of three years. The Code does not forbid three terms of two years each, but excludes more than two terms of three years each in the same house, that is, more than six continuous years as local superior on the part of the same religious. In the case mentioned, therefore, the superior may be reappointed to a new term of two years, which will complete the six continuous years allowed him in the same house. 8 If a religious under temporary vows develops bad.health, or becomes a mentalcase, and, as a result, is refused perpetual vows, is the commun- 106 March, 1951 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS ity to which he belonged bound to take care of him after sending him away.'? What if his physical or mental condition was doubtful during the novitiate and he was allowed to make his tempo'rary profession as a trial to see how he would make out? Once a novice is allowed to make his profession of~first tempo-racy vows, poor health, whether physical or mental, is no longer a reason for refusing either a renewal of temporary vows or the pro-fession of perpetual vows, much less al reason for dismissal (see can-ons 637 and 647, § 2). Hence superiors may not allow a novice t

Issue 1.1 of the Review for Religious, 1942. This is the first issue of the publication. ; A.M.D.G.- -~ Review for ehg ous " " JANUARY 15, 1942 ,~>The Vow of P~overfy . ~The oE udta÷ O~Iotn er ¯ Hygienic M6rfificafio~ -- Exemptions from F~s+ing ~.~ ~Bellar~ine's S[gn of The:~Lmfurgy ih'Mo~ern ~r ¯ Religious Cg~secration : . By M~ffhew Germlng,-S.J. . By Adam C. Ellis, S.J. ~.By, William J. McGucken, S.J. ~' " By,'~. Augustine Ellard, S;J. '~ ~. By Gerald Kelly, ~S.J. '/ By C!pm~nt DeMufh, S.J. B~. ~rald Ellard, SfJ. .° VOLUME. NUMBER 1 Review ~:or Religious Volume I January--December 1942 Published at THE COLLEGE PRESS Topeka, Kansas Edited by THE JESUIT FATHERS SAINT MARY'S COLLEGE St. Marys, Kansas REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS VOLUME I JANUARY 15, 1942 NUMBER CONTENTS GREETINGS FROM THE BISHOP OF LEAVENWORTH Tlie Most Reverend Paul C. Schulte, D.D. 4 PLANS AND ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS~The Editors .6 RELIGIOUS CONSECRATION--Matthew Germing, S.J . 8 JOHN NEPOMUCENE NEUMANN . 14 THE VOW OF POVERTY IN THE CODE OF CANON LAW Adam C. Ellis, S.J . 15 THE EDUCATION OF SISTERS--William J. McGucken, S.J .2.7. HYGIENIC MORTIFICATION---G. Augustine Ellard. S.J .3.2 EXEMPTIONS FROM FASTING--Gerald Kelly, S.J .4.2. SAINT ROBERT BELLARMINE'S SIGN OF THE CROSS Clement DeMuth, S.J . 47 LITURGY IN THE PATTERN OF MODERN PRAYING Gerald Ellard, S.J . 51 BOOK REVIEWS .THE MASS. By the Reverend Joseph A. Dunney . 63 A CATHOLIC DICTIONARY. Edited by Donald Attwater . 63 ALL THE DAY LONG. By Daniel Sargent . 64 "FEAR NOT, I~ITTLE FLOCK.'" By the Reverend George Zimpfer 65 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS 1. Period of Recollection before Perpetual Vows . . " . 68 2. Shortening the Second Year of Novitiate . 68 3. Permission of Parents for Emergency Operation .69 4. Recital of Little Office by those absent from Community Recitation 69 5. Private Vows by Professed Religious . 70 6. Curtain between Priest and Penitent in Convent Confessional 70 DECISIONS OF THE HOLY SEE OF INTEREST TO RELIGIOUS 71 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, January, 1942. Vol. I, No. 1. 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. Application for second class entry pending. Editorial Board: Adam C. Ellis, S.3.,~ G. Augustine Ellard, S.3., Gerald Kelly, $.J. Copyright; 1942, by Adam C. Ellis. Permission is hereby granted~for quotations of reasonable length, provided due credit be given this review and the author. Address all communications to: Review for Religious, St. Mary's College, St. Mar/s, Kansas. Printed in U.S.A. Greet:ings-t: 'om !:he Bishop ot: Leavenw0rt:h WE ARE reminded of the striking analogy that exists between the Mystical Body of Christ and our own physical body. As the human body is made up of mil-lions of tiny ~ells, each cell in a sense a distinct entity having its .own function, so too, the Church is made up of millions of individual members, living individual lives; yet, even as ehch cell in our body draws life from the soul, ~so also is ~ach member of the Mystical Body of Christ quickened by the spiritual life of Sanctifying Grace. Carrying the analog~r further, we are reminded that, as the tiny individual cells are grouped so as to form individu.al organs and members of ~our body,, so too, in the Mystical .Body of Christ, individual men and women are o/~ten grouped into societies andorganizations, distinct, yet work-ing for the common good and drawing life and inspiration from th~ one spiritual head. As St. Paul reminds us,, "the eye cannot say to the hand: I need not thy help; nor again the head to the feet: I have no need of you,'; neither can the various groups within the Church be self-centered, but" they must work for the common good of the whole Church under the guidance of its head, Christ's Vicar on earth. The religious form what might be called the right arm of the Mystical Body of Christ. Ever since our Divine Savior gave the invitation to the young man in the Gospel, "if thou Wilt be perfect, go sell what thou hast, and give to .the poor . and come, follow me," noble souls have been inspired to lea~e all things and seek perfection in the life of the religious. The very earliest centuries of the Church already found the deserts filled with the cells of the anchor-ites, from which soon was to be born the great monastic sys-tem as we have it today. Naturally, the unusual form of life led by the religious presents for them unusual problems. The Church in her canon law has taken cognizance of this and has devoted much space to defining the rights and duties of religious, both as indi'viduals and as institutions. However, the rami-fications of these rights and duties are so far reaching, and the field of direction towards spiritual perfection is so vast that the volumes upon volumes of commentaries that have been Written have not begun to exhaust the subje.cts. Besides, new .problems are ever arising. We have today many reviews of a general ecclesias-tical character dealing withthe multitudinou~s phases of the Church ~n general, yet we can readily see the need of a special review for the religious, not only to explain .the general laws governing their lives, but also to keep them abreast of the problems that theever-changing world is presenting to them. We feel confident therefoie that REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, which is making its bow. with this issue, will be .not .only very helpful to the religious but welcomed by the entire Church. We are happy to give it our personal approbation and fed honored that it is to be published in our Diocese. We are confident of its success under the editorial guidance of the Jesuit Fathers of St. Mary's. May it live long and effect much "pro Deo et Ecclesia!" PAUL C. SCHULTE, Bishop of Leaventvortl~. Plans :nd. ' . Acknowl dgem.ents N THIS initial number of REVIEW FoR RELIGIOus .wish tO say something Of our purpose,and ourplans, so that our readers may know rather definitely what to expect of us. ,, Our 'review is for all religious, clerical and non-clerical. However, we shall consider primarily the needs of brothe~ and nuns, bec~iuse clerics, particularly those in sacred orders, already have many excellent reviews at their disposal. This policy need not make the review less interesting to clerics, and it should increase its utility for those who may be entrusted with the spiritual guidance of other religious. In this latter connection, the review may also be of service to diocesan priests, as many of them are confessors and spiritual directors of religious. We have founded this magazine for a two-fold purpose: first, to aid °religi"ous in their personal sanctification; and secondly, to be of some service to them in carrying on their respective °apostolic works. The first purpose evidently call~ for articles of a purely ascetical nature; also for solid articles on the doctrines, legislation, and liturgy of the Church, as all true piety must ultimately conform to the Church's doctrine and practice. In line with the second purpose w~ll be a~'ticles which may have no direct bearing on ~he personal li:¢es of the religious themselves, such as background articles on various sections of the catechism, suggestions.for the care of the sick and the dying and for the ~arrying on of other ministries. Our general policy will be to offer articles of interest to all, but this policy cannot be inflexible. Some topics will be of use to superiorsand of slight value to subjects; some will be esl~ecially for brothers, others for nuns: some may concern only those engaged ina definite work such-as teaching, caring for the sick, and so forth. We think it well to adopt no general policy that would exclude such special-ized articles; otherwise our power for good would be great-ly diminished. We antidpate difficulties. The war situation evidently increases the difficulty .of .making definite plans. Some of our articles will be quite theological in content, yet these must be written in a non-technical, and understandable manner--an accomplishment that is not easy. On the part of our subscribers, some superiors have already suggested to us that a huge difficulty will be to find time for reading the review. We realize the force of. this practical objection: yet we hope that a fair number of individuals will find the time for private reading, and we suggest, that some articles frbm each issue will be suitable for community reading. The launching of. this project is the result of extensive dreaming and planning. Indeed, we should have begun many years ago, had not a certain unforeseen event delayed 9ur plans. Today, as we finally go to press, we are moved with an intense spirit of gratitude, to God for His assistance, and to all others who have helped us. Almost universally we have met with encouragement andcooperation. Our Bishop has been most kind in appro;cing our venture; our own and other re.ligious superiors were constantly helpful. Higher superiors, in general, responded very promptly and generously to our request for lists of houses to circularize: in many instances the superiors themselves sent subscrip-tions for entire congregations or provinces, thus saving us considerable labor and expense. May God bless them a11, and may He prosper this work begun for His greater glory! -~THE EDITORS. Religious Consecrat:ion Matthew .Germing, S.3. HOLY,SCRIPTURE says: "He that contemneth small things ~hall fall by little and little" (Ecclesiasticus 19:1). Spiritual writers commenting on these words rightly insist on the importance of little thing~ in the spiritual life. In the present consideration I wish to call attention, primarily, not to little things but to a big truth. I say, "primarily," because I believe that often enough interest in little things is best promoted by insistence on some large fundamental truth or fact on which the little ¯ things depend. Such a truth, once it has been thoroughly understood and assimilated, once it has. permeated the very marrow of our being and is thereafter kept vig.or.ously alive in mind an, d heart, will be a wonderfully energ,zmg force in the daily routine of life. It will extend its influence to the smallest actions of the day and thus compel us to take heed of even the little things. . Of this character is the consecration to God made by the members of every religious order and congregation. We are familiar in a general way with the meaning of consecration. Persons or things are consecrated when they are set apart and with the proper ceremonies dedicated to God or the Service of God. Thus the chalice used by the priest at Mass is consecrated; it is sacred and may not be used for any other purpose. To use it for other purposes would be sinful and sacrilegious. The same holds of a consecrated church. All religious are consecrated to Gdd by means of the three vows of religion. They are sacred in the eyes of God, far more sacred than consecrated church or ~halice. Whether they bel6ng to an active or a contemplative order, whether they are engaged in school work or hospital duties, whether in charge of orphans or caring for the aged and infirm, no matter what their function or task or position in the com-munity, all are consecrated to God. And they are so con-secrated by their three vows. There is a twofold aspect to these vows, the .negative and the positive. The negative aspect is "the privation involved in the vows, but privation is not the distinctive feature of religious poverty, chastity, and obedience. The mere lack of temporal goods does not make anyone accept.- able or sacred in God's sight. Poverty .as'such makes.many people in the world at large discontented and miserable, leading to complaints and rebellion against Providence. Nor does celibacy with its privations have of itself a sancti-fying effect. And as for obedience, a man may be a slave and be far from Christian and ev.angelical obedience. It is the motive that counts. It. is the love of Christ, the conse-cration to God which is the purpose and end of.all these sacrifices and privations, that makes them precious in the sight of heaven. And this is the positive aspect of the vows of religion. When we pronounced our vows for the first time we offered to God, to Christ our King and to His Sacred Heart all we had or possessed, and made ourselves entirely depen-dent on God and His representatives on earth. When St. Francis of Assisi bade farewell to his father and gave away the very clothes he wore, he said: "Now I can truly say, our-Father who art in heaven," Certainly Francis knew that God was his Father before that time, but he meant to say that only now was he absolutely without all earthly support whatever; he had only his Father in ¯ heaven to rely upon. And this gave him perfect joy and perfect cbnfidence. Blessed are we if our renunciation of the things of earth was nearly as complete as that of St. Francis and made in the same joyous~spirit. Then we can exclaim with him in ~ransportsof seraphic love, "My God and my all!" and pray to God in the word of another saint, "Give me only Thy love and Thy grace and I am rich enough and desire nothing more." But in pronouncing our vows we did much more than despoil ourselves of all temporal possessions out of love for Christ our Lord. We offered ourselves. There is recorded for us in Holy Scripture (I Paralipomenon 29: 16, 17) the touching prayer of King David when, surrounded by a vast multitude of his people, he offered to Almighty God the gold and silver and precious stones he had gathered from far and near for the temple which his son Solomon was to build. And David prayed: "O Lord our God, all this store ¯ that we have prepared to build thee a house for thy holy name is from thy hand, and all things are thine. I know, my God, that thou provest hearts and lovest simplicity, wherefore I also in the simplicity of my heart have 'joyfully offered all these things." We also on the day of our vows made our offerings to God in joyful spirit, presenting not gold or silver or precious stones but gifts, far more precious m the sight of heaven--the loyalty and devotion of a con-secrated soul. We knelt before the altar and in simplicity and sincerity of heart pronounced the vows of poverty, chas-tity, and obedience. Thus we made an oblat.ion to God of our entire being, our body with its senses and all their pleasures, our soul with its intellect and free will, promising to understand and do all things in accordance with the rules and constitutions of the religious life we then and there embraced in all its fulness. And we made these promises solemnly before the throne of God, in the pres-ence of Mary, Queen of heaven, of our Guardian Angel, our patron saints and the whole heavenly court as witnesses of our oblation. With holy David we acknowledged to God, "All things are thine, and we have given thee what we received of thy hand." Thus we vowed eternal loyalty to Christ and became consecrated and sacred in His eyes. This consecration was the most important event in our life, a spiritual fact of tremendous import. For it meant the abandonment of all selfish interests and complete devo-tion to the cause of Christ. Up to that time self had chiefly been the focus of our thoughts and desires; now our L6rd and Savior was to be enthroned in our mind and heart. Our. aims in life, our thinking and planning, .our capabilities of soul and body, our work and r.ecreation, our time itself, all were consecrated and must be directed to God. We are en-tirely His. We ought to make it our serious effort to understand and appreciate this fact. We should do what the Blessed Virgin did during her life on earth. And what did she do? St. Luke tells us in the second chapter of his Gospel. Toward the end of his account of the nativity Of our Lord, after narrating the apparition of the angel to the shepherds and the visit of the latter to Bethlehem, he adds: "But Mary kept in mind all these words, pondering them in her heart." We may be sure that what is told us so explicitly of her conduct in the present instance she did on many other occa.- sions in connection with the mysteries in the life of our divine Lord in which she had a large part. She treasured up in her memory the words and events, meditated on them, 10 prayed over them in the silence and quiet of her chamber, thus ever increasing in faith, hope, and the 10ve of God. Thus too she secured for herself the divine assistance, sup-port and guidance and encouragement in the daily happen-ings and sufferings of her life on earth. We ought to imitate this practice of our Blessed Mother in regard to so sacred an event in our life as our consecration to God. In the first place, we should recall it often and prayerfMly. Many religious have the commendable custom of making the renewal of'their consecration part of their morning prayer, using for the purpose a short formula; even purely mental renewal is .beneficial. We may do the same at intervals .between exercises during the day, even in the course of work which does not require dose and continu-ous attention. Our Blessed Lady gave us the example. Doubtless her mind and 1,ieart were frequently, if not habitually, occupied, with thoughts of sbme of the great mysteries in the life of her divine Son. This kept her in a state of recollection, transforming all her work into .prayer. Because of the difference of circumstances and the nature of their occupation, religious living in the modern world with its multiplic!ty of work are unable to practise recollection to. the same extent to which our Blessed Lady practised it in her home at Nazareth. Nevertheless, we must not lose sight of the fact that some degree of recoll~ction is essential for living the religious life as it should be lived. For all religious, whether members of an active or contemplative order, are consecrated to God. Consecration means total devotion to the cause of God, the cause of Christ and His Church. But they cannot effectively promote the cause of Christ unless they are devoted to prayer. And the prayer of consecrated souls must be something more than a casual and routine performance at stated times and places. Reli-gious must be penetrated and imbued with the true spirit of prayer, which comes only with thought and reflection and intimate converse between God and the soul. How can they achieve this spirit and continue it once they have achieved it if they do not strive with all the means at their disposal to attain to some degree of interior recollection? It is easier to keep up a high degree of recollection in somepositions or spheres of duty than in others. This holds of all religious communities whose members are engaged in the active life. But to whatever duty individual religious are assigned, all 11 must remember that their life of prayer, their spiritual life in generall will not take care of itself. The' saying is true that no one will be much more in prayer than he or she is out of prayer. In other words, they who outside of praye~ scatter their attention over a variety of interests, neither necessary nor useful for their work, will be unable to pray well beyond a few minutes when the hour comes for their devotional exercises. The inference is not that recollection is to interfere with attention to duty. Duty comes first. But there are moments and intervals when thoughts are free from assigned work and the employment of time is left to each one's discretion. These are favorable moments for the care and attentio.n which religious ought to have for their personal spiritual welfare. And if at such times they follow the promptings of mere curiosity, seeking the news of the day or other information not necessary or useful for them, thus spending the time in useless reading or. idle con-versation, they are losing precious opportunities' for sanc-tifying themselves. I said above that, in the first place, we ought frequently and prayerfully to recall the fact of our consecration to God. It is a thought pregnant with meaning for all of us and will be a great aid to recollection in the course of the day. Secondly, it will be decidedly profitable to take~ our consecration now and then for the subject of daily medita-tion. In such a meditation we may first consider, the ¯ meaning of our consecration. It means complete dedication ¯ "to God by means of the three vows, oblation of all that we have, all that we are, all that we are able to do--our thoughts, words, and actions; it means an act of the most perfect love of God. Then we may reflect on its obliga-tions. They are the observance of the vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience; of the rules and constitutions of the order, and obedience to the commands of superiors. Finally, we may think of its adoantages. The most impor-tant ones are that it frees us from many s~rious dangers of sin, furnishes numerous aids in the practice of every kind of virtue, aligns us with that choice company of the army of Christ which would signalize itself by special service to its Leader, renders us sacred in the eyes of God, is a sign of God's predilection, has Christ's promise of the highest reward-- they "shall receive a hundredfold and shall possess life ever-lasting" (Matthew 19:29). Conclusion. We may Con- 12 clude-with sentiments of esteem and love of our vocation with its consecration to God; humility; gratitude to God. Another opportunity for strengthening ourselves in our consecration to God is the Monthly Recollection. It is a time of spiritual grace, when God reveals Himself more fully to our souls. We should do our part by making a brief survey of the month that has passed, considering in detail and with more than ordinary scrutiny whether we are living up to ~:he requirements of our state. It is not a question of merely seeing whether we have avoided deliber-ate sin. This too merits our attention, as a matter of course. We must look to our religious ideals, the perfection of our daily actions, the motives that animate us from early .morning till late at night. Are we seeking God in all things in all our doings? Are ,Jesus Christ and His interests habitually in our thoughts, or is self frequently uppermost in our minds, controlling and directing our purposes and policies? Our Blessed Lord said: "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with thy whole heart, and with thy whole soul, and with thy whole mind, and with thy whold strength" (Mark 12:30). This is the perfection we are bound to strive after in its literal sense. It is the epitome, the compendium of all that is contained in our consecration to God. We are consecrated to God, sacred in His eyes. It would be quite wrong and detrimental to our spiritual life if, by reason of this, we were to fall into the error of conceiving and fostering self-complacency, as though we were the favorite~ of Almighty God and better than other people. If God has manifested His predilection towards us by bestowing the efficacious grace of a religious vocation, He has by that very fact also imposed on us graver obligations and responsibilities. In all humility we should thank God for what He has done for us and for all other men, each of us saying with the patriarch ,Jacob, "I am not worthy of the least of all thy mercies and of thy truth which thou hast f.ulfilled to thy servant" (Genesis 32:10). It is very important for .us to maintain~ an attitude of thankfulness and humility. Let us remember our Lord's words to His Apostles: "You have not chosen me, .but I have chosen you". (,John 15:16). He has chosen us out of the world and transferred us into a kingdom of light and grace that, like the Apostles; we might "bring forth fruit." It-remains for us to distinguish ourselves in His service by an ever increasing love and generosity, a more steadfast loyalty to the consecration which we made of ourselves when we pronounced our vows. In this way a big fundamental spiritual truth, kept fresh in mind and heart by daily prayer and recollection, will exercise oa salutary influence On the little things of every day life. It will have the effect Of sweepingaside in a moment the petty and narrow views arising from selfish-ness, just as the bright rising sun scatters the mist on a mid-summer day.' JOHN NEPOMUCENE NEUMANN Just before the first issue of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS went to press, we received a letter from the Reverend Albert H. Waible, C.SS.R., Vice-Postulator of the Cause for Beatification of the Venerable John Neumann, C.SS.R. John Nepomucene Neumann was the first pro-fessed Redemptorist in the United States and the fourth Bishop of Philadelphia. On December 11, 1921, Pope Benedict XV approved the decree declaring that John Neumann had practised heroic virtue, and he was given the title of Venerable. The Holy Father's words on that occasion are singularly appropriate for readers of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS : "We deem it proper to say that all our children should profit by the. Decree of today by reason of the peculiar character of the heroic virtues of Ven. Neumann. Perhaps the very simplicity of these virtues has been misunderstood by those Who thought there was no heroic degree in the virtues of the Servant of God. because in their eyes the good works and holy deeds performed by Neumann are. the holy .and good deeds which every good religious, every zealous missionary, every good bishop should perform. ¯ We need not repeat that works even the most simple, performed with constant perfection in the midst of i~aevitable difficulties, spell heroism in any servant of God. Just because of the simplicity of his works, We find in them a strong argu-ment for saying to the faithful of whatever age, sex, or condition: You are all bound to imitate the Ven. Neumann.,. If, in spite of this, there should be some who still seem surprised and cannot pic-ture him to themselves as a hero apart from grand undertakings, We hasten to say that wonderful results can spring from simple deeds, . provided these are performed as perfectly as possible and with unre-mitting constancy." Those interested in Bishop Neumann's cause can procure a small pamphlet biography from the Mission Church Press, 1545 Tremont St., Boston, Mass. 5 cents a copy; $3.50 per 100. 14 The Vow ot: Poverl:y in !:he Code ot: Canon Law Adam C. Ellis, S.,L IIF't LESSED are the poor in spirit, .for theirs is the king-dom of heaven" (Matthew 5:3). This poverty of spirit for which the Gospel promises the kingdom of heaven consists essentially in keeping one's heart free from attachment to temporal goods. It is the first means, though not the most important, which man must make use of to win heaven.or to attain to perfection. The reason for this is that poverty of spirit is the cure for that evil which is the root of all others according to the Apostle: "For covet-ousness is the root of all evil" (I Timothy 6:10). That is why our Lord not only began his preaching with it, but also gave us the example in His own person of a life of pov-erty from the crib in the stable of Bethlehem to the cross on Calvary. And when He wished to teach men the secret and the way ot~ perfection, he tells us again, in the instance of the rich young man, that. poverty is the starting point. "If thou wilt be perfect, go sell what thou hast. and give to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven; and come, follow Me" (Matthew 19:21). The first persons who took this lesson to heart and put it into practice were the Apostles, who in turn imparted it to the primitive church, and thus impressed upon religious communities the form of perfect poverty. In canon 488 of the Code ot: Canon Law, the Church tells us that the three vows ot~ religion, obedience, chastity, and poverty, are means by ~vhich religious strive at~ter per-t: ecfion; Hence in all orders and congregations approved by the Church these three essential vows must be taken, either explicitly, as in modern congregations, or as least implicitly, as in the older orders. In its essentials the vow 6f poverty is the same: for all religious, but the constitutions of different orders and congregations add details to these fundamental notions according to the particular spirit ot~ each institute. Evangelical poverty as set forth in the constitutions of a religious institute, may be considered from different points of view. It-is not our intention to give an ascetical ¯ or a moral.interpretation of the vow of poverty; we leave .15 that to others, who, we trust, will favor us later on with articles in the REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS dealing with these aspects. It is our purpose now to study the present laws of the Ghurch regarding the personal poverty of religious, as promulgated in the Code of Canon Law, since these laws are applicable to all religious, and are usually incorporated into the constitutions o~ all religious institutes. The Nature of the Vow of Pooert~/. The vow of pov-erty is a promise made to God by whicla the religious deprives himself of the right to place any act of proprietor-sbip over any material thing having a money value, with-out the lawful permission of his superior, The proper and distinctive character of proprietorship or ownership of property is the power to dispose of it freely and independently/: that is, to use it, to give it away, to sell it, to destroy it, at will, as an absolute master over it. without any obligation of having recourse to the will of another, hence independently of the will or permission of another. The essence of the simple vow of poverty consists, therefore, in the privation of this right to dispose freely and independently of temporal goods, of whatsoever kind they may be. The subject-matter of the vow is the possession and use of temporal things, independently of the will of superiors. Whatever the degree of poverty prescribed by the con-stitutions of any particular institute may be, only such things as come under the heading of temporal goods or property constitute the subject-matter of poverty. Other things, such as health, the use of one's bodily members, one's mental and spiritual faculties, talents, supernatural gifts, are not the subject-matter of the vow of poverty. Temporal goods or property, therefore, include any object of money value that a person can acquire and possess or hold, anything that can be owned. Personal goods or property are such things as can be kept on or near one's per-son, usually all movable goods. Real property or real estate consists in lands and whatever is attached to the land, houses and buildings of any kind. The general term, prop-. erty or temporal goods, therefore, comprises every material thing which has a money value, such as: money, real estate, stocks, bonds, mortgages, jewelry, and all movable and per-sonal objects having a money value. By his vow of poverty 16 the religious refiounces his right to place any act of owner- Ship over such goods without the permission of his supe-rior. The vow of poverty, therefore, forbids the religious: 1) every independent act of appropriation, e.g. to acquire, keep, use, receive, borrow from another; 2) every act of disposal of property: to give away, to sell, to lend, or lease to another, to allow goods to deteriorate or perish. All these acts, placed without the permission of the superior or of the constitutions, are contrary to the vow of poverty. The various degrees of sinfulness of these acts is a moral question and outside the limits of this article. Let us now take up the general legislation of the Church regarding the vow of poverty, keeping in mind that these laws obligate all religious, and that any contrary leg-islation in the constitutions has been revoked by the Code of Canon Law, unless a special apostolic privilege has been obtained. I. A religious who has tatien a simple vow of poverty, whether temporar!t or perpetual, retains the ownership of his property, as well as the capacity to acquire, more, unless the constitutions provide otherwise (cf. canon 580, § 1). The distinction between a simple and a solemn vow ~s the result of church legislation. ~ A religious who takes a solemn vow of poverty deprives himself not only of every right to place act~ proprietorship, as explained above, but he freely gives up even the right to own temporal goods. Such a religious must give away all that he. possesses, within sixty days preceding his solemn profession. After taking the solemn vow, he can no longer acquire temporal goods for himself, since by his vow he has renounced his very right to own, hence whatever may come to him by way of inheri-tance or gift, he acquires for his institute (cf. canons 581 and 582). The religious who takes a simple vow of poverty, on the contrary, retains his right to own, that is to possess property; hence he is not deprived of his property by the simple vow, but continues to be the owner of all that he possessed at the time of his religious profession. Further-more, he retains the capacity to acquire more property or temporal goods even after he has taken the simple vow of poverty. Such is the provision of. the general law of the Church today for all religious. The Church allows the constitutions to limit this right, but since there are very few constitutions ;which do so,,we.shall omit any comment On this detail, and we shall suppose hereafter that no such limitation has been placed. iI. The simple vow of poverty makes a" contrary a~t illticit, but not invalid, unless the contrarg, has been expressly decreed (cf. canon 579). The effects of the vow of poverty are determined by the law of the Church. That law says that the simple vow of poverty makes a.contrary act illicit, which means that if a religious with a simple vow of poverty disposes of or in any way exercises rights over his property without permis-sion, he-.commits a sin,. venial or grave acc.ording, to the gravity of the illicit transaction. However, the act which he places, for example, the gift or s~ile of temporal goods, is valid, that is, it is recognized as legal by canon law, unless the contrary is expresslydecreed. Such a prohibition may be contained in the general law of the Church," as 'happens in the case of a religious who takes a simple vow of poverty in an order in which he is to take solemn vows later on. Canon 581 § 1. forbids .him under pain of invalidity to give away his property, except within sixty days preceding his solemn profession. If such a religious gives away any property, the act is null and void, ~which means that the person to whom he,gave it must return it, and may not keep it. Thus if Sister Generosa, a member of a religious congregation, gave all her property to her needy family off the day 9n which she took her first vows, her parents may keep it, since the act is a valid act. Sister Generosa, how-ever, acted illicitly, that is, she violated her vow of povert.y :by transgressing the law of the church, unless she. did so m good faith, being ignorant of the law. Off'the other hand, if Brother John, a member of the Carmelite order, gave away all his property on the day he took his first simple vows, the person to whom he gave it would be obliged to give it back to him, because his act was not only illicit but also invalid. He can give away his property validly only within sixty days of his solemn profession. III.' If during his novitiate, a novice in any way what-ever renounces his property, or.encumbers it, such a renun-ciation or encumbrance is not only illicit, but also null and void (cf. canon 568). This legislation comes down to us from the Council of Trent. It applies to all novices, whether in a pontifical or 18 in a diocesan institute, and to all their temporal goods, whether movable or immovable, real or personal. The pur-poseof the legislation is to safeguard the freedom of action of both the novice and of the institute regarding the profes-sion to be made at the end of the novitiate. The novice may wish to leave, the institute may be unwilling to admit him to profession. Hence the wisdom of the legislation. To renounce one's property means to give up the right to it by freely and lawfully transferring it to another with-out recompense. A novice may, therefore, sell his.property and invest the proceeds, or. put the money in a bank for the time being. He may, likewise, freely~dispose of the income of his property during the novitiate, or add it .to his capital. He must pay his.debts, of course, and may pay for his board and clothing during the'novitiate provided this is required by the constitutions, or agreed upon before entrance into the postulancy, or novitiate in conformity with canon 5 70, §1. To er~carnber one's property means to put a burden or obligation upon it. Hence a novice may not promise to give away a certain part of 'his property or all of it on condition that he perseveres in the religious state and is admitted to profession. He may not mortgage his property.,-as that would be placing an encumbrance .upon it. While the law of the Church does not forbid such renunciation and encumbrance during the postulancy, the same reasons make such an act inadvisable. If such a renun-ciation is made for grave reason during the postulancy, it should be made conditionally, so that the postulant may be able to regain his property in case he does not persevere in religion, and must return to the world. Even before the Code went into effect i~ was a common opinion of canonists that novices could give alms to the poor, to pious causes, and even to their own institute, pro-vided that small amounts were given on rare occasions, The same is permitted under the Code. Thus a novice would be allowed to have a number of Masses said for the repose of. the soul of his father or mother who dies during his novitiate. Supposing that our novice persevere~, and that his institute is ready to admit him to his first profession~, the .law. of the Church requires him to place certain acts in rdgard to his property before he takes his first ~vows. 19 IV. Before the profession of simple vows, whether temporory or perpetual., the novice must cede, for the entire period during Which he wilt be bound bg simple vows, the administration of bis~ 15ropertg to whomsoever he wishes, and dispose freelg of its use and usufruct, unless the consti-tutions determine otberu;ise (cf. canon 569, § 1). We have seen above that the simple vow of poverty does not deprive the novice who takes it of the ownership of his property or of the right to acquire more property after he. has taken the simple vow of poverty. On the other hand, one of the purposes of the vow is to free the religious from the worries and distractions connected with the care and management of temporal goods. Hence the Church wisely decrees that the novice must turn over to another the administration of his property if he has any. He may choose any person he wishes to act as his administrator: his parents, a brother or sister, a friend, a lawyer, a trust com-pany. He may also ask his institute or province or house to assume this task if superiorslare willing tO accept it. Let us u.nderstand what an administrator is. All of us have heard on occasion, after the death of a person, that the deceased had appointed an administrator of his estate in his will, or if he died intestate, the court appointed somebody to fill this office until the estate could besettled. The per-son appointed cares for the estate or collection of temporal goods owned by the deceased, pay bills, collects rents, as well as interest on money deposited in banks or due on stocks and bonds, keeps buildings in repair, pays taxes and the like. In a word, an administrator performs all those ordinary acts which the deceased person performed during his lifetime for the preservation and increase of his prop-erty. Once the novice has appointed his administrator, he must leave to him all these acts of ordinary administration of his property. He may be consulted as regards extra-ordinary acts of administration, such as the sale of his property, and the investment of the money derived from such a sale, and be has the right to receive an annual report of the condition of his property. The administrator is entitled to some recompense in proportion to his labor. Once the administrator has been freely appointed, the religious may not replace him by another without the per-mission of his superior general, unless the constitutions of his institute allow him to do so of his own accord (cf.canon 20 580, § 3). It4s evident that the novice who has no prop-erty at the-time of his first profession .need not appoint an administrator. The disposition or: his income: The novice must dispose freely of the use and usufruct of his pr.operty, if he has any. If his property consists of real estate, a farm, a house and lot, etc. he may ~rant the use of such property to anybody he wishes. If his property is productive, real estate which brings in rents, or stocks and bonds producing income or interest, such income is called the fruits of his property, or .the usufruct. It is evident that were the religious to retain the free disposal¯ of such income in his own hands, it would become a source of distraction and worry to him. Hence the Code prescribes that, before he takes his first vows, he must determine, once for all, the person or persons who are to be given the use of or the income of his property for the duration of his vows. He may choose whomsoever he wishes as the beneficiary of bis income: his parents, a brother or sister, some charitable work, his own institute. It would be well for the novice, before making his decision, to think seriously on those words of our Lord: "give to the poor." His parents may be in need, or he may have a brother or sister struggling to raise a family or to get an education; then there are so many forms of Christian char-ity in need of funds to carry on their work: hospitals, or-phanages, homes for the poor, etc; lastly the novzce should also consider the needs of his own institute before coming to a decision. But the final decision rests with him, unless the constitutions of his institute determine otherwise. There are some constitutions approved before the promultzation of the Code which deprive the novice of the right to dispose of the use and usufruct of his property, or restrict that right or define it, e.g. by limiting such disposal in favor of a char-itable work, or by designating or excluding the institute as the beneficiary. Whatever the dispositions of such consti-tutions may be, they must be observed (Code Commission, Oct. 16, 1919). Once the novice has made this disposition of the use or income of his property, he may not change it in favor of someone else without the permission of his superior gen-eral, unless the constitutions' allow him to do so of his own accord (canon 580, § 3). It will-be Well to call attention here to a restriction which this same canon places on 'th~ 2I right to chahge the beneficiary with the permission ~of the superior general.~ Such modification or change mustnot be made, at least for a notable part of the income, in favor of the institute. Permission of the Holy See is necessary to make such a change in favor of the institute (Code Com-mission, May 15, 1936), if there is question of a notable part, say one-fourth, or certainly one-third Of the same. This point should be made clear to the novice before he chooses the person who is to have the use or the income of his property. While he is free before taking his first vows to appoint hisown institute (orhis province or house) as the beneficiary of his income, ifas a matter of fact, he does not do so, but appoints some other person, he may not later " cbang.e .this disposition in favor of.his ihstitute without the permission of the Holy See, if there is question of one third or more of the entire income. If, later on, after having taken his vows, the religious should leave his institute and the religious life, these appointments of an administrator and of the beneficiary of his income cease to have a.ny effect, and he regains comple.te control of his property. It may happen that a novice has no property at the time be takes his first vows. Later on, after takin~ his vows, he acquires pkoperty by inheritance or gift. What is to be don~? " " V. :In case the novice, because he possessed no property, omitted to make the cession and disposition mentioned above, but later on acquires p. ropertq, or i~:, after making the cession and disposition ~n question, be becomes the possessor of more property under whatever title, be must then' make the cession and disposition for the ~irst time, or repeat it, iri regard to the newI~/ acquired property/, his simple vow o~: povern.] notwit.bstanding (cf. canon 569, §2). In this case the religious whopossessed no property at the time of his first profession, but. later on acquires prop-erty, needs no permission to appoint an administrator and to determine who is to have the use of this newly acquired property, or the income thereof. The law obliges him to do .so. Similarly, if, after having appointed an adminis-trator and determined a beneficiary of the income of his property, a religious, after taking his vows, acquires new property by inheritance, gift, and so forth, he must then 22 repeat the same acts in regard to h!,s. newly acquired prop-erty. Of course he may simply say: I wish the same admin-istrator, already appointed, to take care of it, and I wish the same person or persons, already recei~,ing the income of my property, to receive the income of this new property like-wise." He may, howe.ver, appoint a different person administrator, and a different person the beneficiary of the income of this newly acquired property, if he wishes to do so, It may be noted in 1Sassing that an increase in value of property already possessed does not constitute a new acquirement of property .within the meaning of the law. Hence if the real estate, or the stocks and bonds which a religious owns, increase in value because of a land boom, or because of a rise in the stock market, such a religious may not consider that increase in value as a new acquirement of property. Nothing is to be done in such a case. VI. In ever{] religious congregation the novice, before taking his temporarg vouJs, must freetg make a will or tes-tament regarding all the propertg he actuatl~l possesses, or mag subsequentl~l possess (cf. canon 569, § .3). A will is a legal declaration of a man's intentions as to the disposition of his property that he wills to be carried out afterhis death. Strictly speaking, a testament differs from a will in that it bequeaths personal property only; but the terms are used interchangeably. By his will, there-fore, the novice does not give away his property here and now. ° He merely indicates the person Or persons whom he wishes to come into possession of it after his death. As long as he lives he retains the ownership of all his prop-erty. The beneficiary of his will becomes possessor of the property of the. religious only after the latter dies. Every novice in a religious congregation must make a will before taking his first, temporary vows, whether he actually owns any property or not, the reason being that the will includes everything that may come to the religious dur!ng his life-time, and of which he dies possessed. Novices about to take their first, temporary vows in an order are not obliged to make a will, since they must give away whatever they possess before they take their solemn vows. They are not forbidden, howe~er, to make a will valid for the period of their profession of simple vows, ~hould their wish to do so. ¯ Members of a religious congregation who took their 23 first vows before the Code went into effect (May 19, 1918), are not obliged to make a will, even though they acquired more property after that date, or will akquire such property in the future. But they ar~ not forbidden to make a will, should they wish to do so, and generally speaking, it is advisable for them to make a will.But all religious in every congregation who took their first, temporary vows after May 19, 1918 are obliged to make a will as soon as possible, if they have not done so already. The law requires this, even though it had been omitted in good faith. Even though the novice who is about to take his first vows cannot make a will valid in civil law because of a lack of the required age, he is still bound by canon law to make his will, and later on, when he becomes of legal age, he must tlake the steps necessary to make his will'valid in divil law as well. The Code says that the novice must freel~t make a will. This does not mean that he is free to make a will. or not, but that he who makes the will prescribed by canon law is free to choose the beneficiary of his will, that is he freely chooses the person or persons he wishes to take possession of any property he may own at the time of his death. May a religious ever change his will after he has freely made it? VII. No religious may change his will once made in "conformity with the requirements of canon law as explained above without the permission of the Hotel See, or. in case of urgencq, abd time does not permit of recourse to the Holg See, without the permission o3 his superior gen-eral, or of his local superior if the former cannot be' reached (cf. canon 583, 2°). A will is not considered altered or changed if certain prescriptions are merely made clearer, or if a will'which is invalid in civil law is changed merely to conform with the requirements of that law, so long as in both cases the bene-ficiary remains the same. Should the person named as bene-ficiary in the will of a religious die, the will becomes ineffec-tive and has no value. Hence no permission is needed to make a new will, since by so doing the religious is simply fialfilling the law of the Church which requires him to make a will. The will he had made is no longer valid, hence he is without a will, and must make another in order to fulfill the law, 24 As long as the religious with simple vows continues, to live in a religious congregation he may ~not give away his property. VIII. It is forbidden to the professed of simple" uows in a congregation to abdicate gratuitously the dominion ouer their property b~/ a voluntary deed of conveyance (cf. canon 583, 1°). To abdicate gratuitously means to give away one's property without receiving any monetary recompense in return. The motive for giving away one's property may be a spirit of gratitude, or friendship, or a charitable desire to help others in need, or to further 'the cause of some pious work. No matter what the motive may be, the Church forbids all religious with simple vows in a congregation to give away their property as long as they remain in religion. Due to the uncertain times in which we live, it can and does happen that religious freely leave or are obliged to leave their institute, or the institute itself may be dispersed by reason of persecution which is 'always present in the Church in some part of the world. Should any one of these con-tingencies arise, the religious will not be obliged to return to the world penniless, thus bringing Shame on religion, or becomin~ a burden to others, but he will be able to support himself with the aid of the temporal goods he brought with him when he entered religion, or which he received by. way of inheritance or gift during his stay in the religious life. Since the law says a religious is forbidden to give away his property, but does not say that such an act is invalid as it does in the case of a novice and of the religious with simple vows in an order in which he is to take solemn vows later on, it follows-that if a religious in a congregation has actually freely given away his property contrary to the pre-scription of the law, the act is a valid act, and.the religious cannot reclaim his prbperty. If he did so in good faith, in ignorance of the law, he will be free from all moral guilt in the matter. But all religious in congregations, whether papal or diocesan, should understand clearly that their supe-riors cannot give them permission to dispose of thei~ patri-money, as the sum total of their temporal goods is. called, during th~i~ lifetime in religion. The permission of the Holy See would have to be obtained before this couId be done licitly. A final question arises with regard to the property of O~ 25 religious with simple vows. We have seen that such a re!igidus retains his ownership over the property, he-pos-sessed at the time of his entrance into religion, as well as the capacity to acquire more property, even after he has taken his simple vow of pover~;y. How are we to decide what a religious may and must keep and add to his patrimony, what be must give to his institute of the temporal things which come to him during his life in religion? IX. Whatever a religious acquires b~j l~is own industrg, or in respect to his institute, he acquires for his institute (cf. canon 580, § 2). A religious with simple vows acquires for himself, that~ is, as part of his patrimony or collection of his temporal possessions, whatever he receives by way of inheritance, legacy or personal gift. But whatever comes to him by reason of his own industry goes to his institute. To acquire b.u one's own industrtl means by one's mental and physical efforts, such as writing a book, or making a work of art, a painting or fancy needle work, or by reason of one's profes-sion, recompense received for teaching, nursing and the like. Since the religious has become a member of thereligious family by his profession of vows, and is suppotted, fed, clothed and educated by the institute, which supplies all his reasonable wants, it is but meet and just that the fruits of his:labors should go to the institute. To acquire in respect to the institute refers to what is given to a religious not as an individual person, to John Jones; or to Mary Blank, but to the religious as a religious, to Brother Plus, or to Sister Martha, for the community to which he or she belongs, in order to help the Charitable or educational work in which the community is engaged, or because of the confidence and respect which the institute as a whole inspires in the donor because of its religious activ-ity. In a word a religious acquires in repect to his insti-tute whatever is g.iven to him because be is a religious. In cases of doubt, when it is not certain that the gift was per-sonal to the religious, the presumption will be that it was made in favor of the institute. This presumption applies especially to superiors. Small gifts given on special occa-sions such as feast days or at Christmas time to a teacher by his pupils, and so forth, are presumed to be given to the religious because he is a religious, not for personal reasons. The constitutions usually regulate such gifts. 26 The I::ducafion ot: Sis :ers William 3. McGucken, S.,J. THIS IS an altogether extraordinary book that should be of particular interest to the readers of the REVIEW FOR RELIGIDU$. It is not a dull book, despite the fact that it is in the genre of the much despised doctoral dissertations in Education (with a capital E). Sister Bertrande has a reporter's sense of what constitutes news, a reporter's abil-ity to penetrate beyond the barriers and get a "story" from. her unwilling victim. Very briefly, the book is the narra-tive of what has been done in America for the religious, social, cultural, and professional education of sisters, what is being done, and, most significant of all, what should be done. With the first two parts of the book no one can disagree; the facts are presented with such ingenious clarity that he who runs may read.In the third part one may question some of the proposals on the ground that they are too detailed, too rigidly regimented after the immemorial fashion of nuns, but with the main features of her proposal to give a truly sound and truly Catholic education (this time without the capital E) to American nuns there can be no disagreement. The true story of Catholic education in the United States, especially the education .of women, has yet to be written: its tale of heroisms, sacrifices, blunderings, and fatal failures have been chronicled in part. here and there. notably in Mother Callan's excellent study, The Society! of the Sacred Heart in North America, but nowhere can one find a complete picture of the whole scene. Particularly is this the case with American Catholic ~ducational policy as it affects the religious qua religious. The old saying "Cucullus non.facit monachum" is all too dreadfully true, but unfortunately many religious superiors believed the wimple made the nun. Every religious over fifty years of age knows that there was a time in the history of the sister-hoods in America when a young woman, often not even a high school graduate, was passed through a rapid postu- 1 THE EDUCATION OF SISTERS. A. plan for Integrating the Religious~ Social, Cul-tural, an'd Professional Training of Sisters. By Sister Bertrande Meyers. New York: Sh~ed add Ward, 194i. Pp. xxxiii + 255. $3.75. 27 l~ncy, given a Veil, and sent out to teach. Granted that mother superiors were forced by circumstances, the impor-tunings of bishops and parish priests, granted that the nuns thus sent off the assembly line with less than a year's training made up for their lack of acquaintance with the vchole idea and ideals of ~eligious life by their practices of piety, their simple devotion, their childlike faith, yet it still remains an inscrutable mystery of divine providence that there were not more individual catastrophes as a result of this short-sighted policy. The first .World War came along; there was a multi-plication of school~; especially of sisters' high schools and colleges: there was also a tightening of the reins by the accrediting agencies. .Moreover, Rome. was insistent on religious communities adhering to their constitutions. At last, it is true, the nuns were obliged to, spend, at least a canonical yeay in the novitiate, but in order to satisfy the professional requirements necessary to teach, many .of the sisterhoods had to resort to miserable subterfuges in order° to securethese "credits." A tragic.story, truly, this filching from the r~eligious training 9f the novice to satisfy ttie craze for credits. Nor is it over even now. Sister Bertrande says (of the year 1940) : "Isolated instances were even found where credit was given [dur!ng the Canonical Year] in Church History or World History for reading Lives of the Saints, in Home Economics for the daily.domestid work, and in Philosophy Of Education for the daily instructions of the' Mistress of Novices. iiO,,ne of ~he Mistresses of N0yices co,mplai~is bitterly: In the first place, there is a sii nion~h s postulate. But. lJefore the postulant can be.inducted into religious life She :is made conscious of credits to be earned towards her teaching credentials;.so her day is full of classes. That is not so bad, since this is just the Posti~late, but it would be better if she ~studied something like Logic--that would teach her how to think. But no. Methods of teaching, all professional subje.cts come togeth~er to make the girl more conscious of the need to become a good teacher rather than a true religious. " 'Then--the Canonical YEar. It is so taken, up with studies in the field of education that when a novice is asked how she is coming along in recollection, she says: "Recollec- 28 tion? Why I can think of nothing but getting my school work"done--there is no time even for class preparation." Spiritual exercises ar~ curtailed; classwork takes precedenc~ over interviews with the. Mistress of Novices--often I have to scheme little ways of finding an opportunity to give direction to a novice-who stands in need. " 'Two and one-half hours a day are allowed for Novi-tiate routine such as. instructions, spiritual reading, confes-sions, etc. If anything must be put aside it must be any-thing but classwork. Thus it happens that a thin, super-ficial religious decorum takes the place of depth and breadth in the spiritual life. And no real, permanent culture comes from this cramming of normal work. " 'The second, year the novices are sent out to teach. They go out to teach with good will, but with no concept of the interior life. There was a time when the second year was strictly a part of the Novitiate; .but it began With "bor-rowing" two or three novices for sorely pressed missions, and the Borrowed novices, were .never returned. Then, a few more were borrowed. Now, there is no pretence at leaving them in the Novitiate for a second year. They are robbed of their Canonical Year with a full program 0f studies; the second year they leave for the local schools, and as a~result we have teachers with no real Understanding of their Community or of' the obligations of religious life'." It should be noted that this condition has held ever since the State Departments have insisted on professional requirements for teachers; it still holds today, let us hope only in "isolated instances." It can be left to the reader's imagination what the situation was in the period immedi-ately after World War I when every major superior was confronted with the choice of closing a certain number~of schools or getting credits for her sisters somehow, some-where. The result: a conflict, was set up in the mind of the young religious; she was told that her spiritual develop-ment comes first, and yet much was done to interfere with her allowing her religious life to take first place. A very interesting part of the book is Sister Bertrande's discussion of the effect of secular universities on religious women. The majority of provincials,~mistresses of novices, deans of nuns' colleges feel that it does~harm, that there is a weakening of the Catholic: sense, but some are sure that they are forced to attend for certain courses in the graduate field. 29 It is not explicitly stated that the real reason for the danger tO sisters at secular graduate schools is the haphazard quality of the undergraduate preparation received by many of them: they have not a Catholic view of life, even though they may be very devout religious. "One point was uniformly expressed.m that the courtesy and consideration which sisters met in dealing with the officials and the faculties in secular universities outdis-tanced that which was experienced in Catholic centers." One just wonders if it is not possible that the more poorly prepared for graduate work attend Catholic universities, the brilliant students, the ones superiors are absolutely sure of, frequent the non-Catholic institution. Moreover, Catholic institutions have possibly far more experience of those "isolated instances" where nuns present transcripts of worthless credits than the officials of the secular universi-ties. It is g.ratifying to see from Sister Bertrande's tables that there is a tremendous increase in the attendance of sis-ters at Catholic institutions and a corresponding decrease in attendance at secular universities. One startling fact in the picture presented of the con-temporary education of Catholic sisters is this: relatively t~ew ot~ our nuns receive a thorough grounding in liberal arts. Even where the situation in the Canonical Year has been bettered, 'it is very rare indeed for a sister to be set aside to complete her course for the Bachelor of Arts degree. ~here. there is a second year of novitiate, studies are crowded, into this year--too many, alas, professional studies; that year ended, the novicepronounces her vows and is immediately sent on a mission. Carrying a full teach-ing schedule, she attempts to garner credits after school hours, on Saturday mornings, and in summer sessions. After she has attained the mystica! number of 120, she may be sent to graduate school, utterly unprepared for graduate work by this hurried amassing of credits which she has had no time to digest. It is not thus that bachelors of ar~s are made. One can say that many, not all, bachelors of arts in American colleges are in no better fix. This may be true, but the fact remains that sisters because of their profession as teachers should be thoroughly grounded in systematic fashion in the liberal arts. What this crowding of the day of the young religious does to her spiritual life can be left to the imagination. If this or a similar condition were bad a 30 generation ago, when life was .simpler, when our' novices came from good Catholic families with a tradition of reli-gious practice,, what must it not be today when we find the product even of our convent schools woefully lacking in Catholic principles and practices because of poor home training and the prevalent paganism of the American scen~. Sister Bertrande's plan for the education of postulants, with its emphasis on instruction in Catholic faith and prac-tice, so necessary at all times but especially in these times, its ignoring of all secular subjects except. Speech and Music, is espe.cially commended to all major superiors. So too her plan for the Canonical Year--one might wish that this part~ were continued everywhere for two years--with its rigid exclusion of everything but Religion and Gregorian Music will help to make our sisters strong religious women. Some Will quarrel with the curriculum Sister Bertrande out-lines for the two-year curriculum for the Community Jun-ior College. Too many of the courses, some would think, bear the mark of superficiality so characteristic of survey courses. However, that is a minor detail. The one point is brought Out that the postulancy and novitiate are devoted to God and the development of the spiritual life in the indi-vidual; two yeais of junior college are to be added to com-plete the foundation of their liberal arts program, with the leisure necessary for that. purpose. After that Sister Bert-rande recommends that the new sister be sent to a Catholic college for the completion of the work that is needed for the degree. The author does not say that they should be sent immediately. Perhaps it is too far away from the prac-ticalities of American convent life for her to recommend that. All in all this is a book that should be read and digested by everyone who has anything to do with the education of sisters,--major superiors, Catholic college professors and administrators, at least that they may acquire the saooir i:aire~ of their non-Catholic confr~res,.last but not least, pastors, that they may understand the difficulties under which the sisters in their parish schools are laboring. It is a book that had to be written: the candid objective presen-tation of facts can do no harm; it may prove to be of ines-timable benefit to future generations of sisters, if .present superiors heed the pointed lesson that is written here. 31 i~lygienic Morfit:ic~fion G. Augustine Ellard, S.J. ~'~NE of the most prominent ascetical writers of the ~ J twentieth century and at the same time an authority ~ on the history of the spiritual life in the Church, namely, Msgr. Saudreau, states that the principal defect in the cultivation of the interior life in our days is a lack of bodily mortification (1). Moreover, the want of mortifi-cation is assigned by Father De Guibert, of Rome, a leader among contemporary ascetical and mystical theologians, as the reason why so few pass beyond mediocrity in the spir-itual life (2). Perhaps one of the main reasons or pretexts why most devout people do not practice more external mortification is the fear that it would injure their health, or at least lessen their strength and capacity for work. One might answer that an abundance of mortification, and that too of a supe-rior form, may be found precisely in learning and living up to the principles of hygiene. Let us assume, for the present purpose; that mortifica-tign consists in any or all acts of virtue in as much as these involve foregoing what is pleasant or undergoing what is unpleasant. Thus it would be coexten,s, ive with the spher, e, covered by the old rule of the Stoics: bear and fork;ear. Though the word mortification (putting to death) may suggest the contrary, all sound ascetical authorities would hold that the purpose of it is posltix;e: life, a~nd more life. If inferior vital tendencies are checked and thwarted, it is only in order that the higher vital tendencies may bd saved from being checked and thwarted, and that they may be more freelyand richly developed. By all means, the aim of sound mortification is more and better life rather than less. "Ever we bear about in our body the dying of Jesus, so that the life, too, of Jesus may be made manifest in our bodies. For we who live are ever being delivered up to death for Jesus' sake, so that the life, too, of Jesus may be made manifest in our mortal flesh" (II Corinthians 4: I0-1 ! -~Westminster Version). (I) Auguste Saudreau. La Pi~tl d Travers Les Ages, page 661. (2) J. De Guibert. J:h'ctionnaire de SpiritualitY, Fascicule Premier. page 106. Hygienic mortification would consist in foregoing whatever is pleasant and undergoing whatever is unpleas-ant with a view to preserving, or improving, o.r regaining, one's health and vigor, and ultimately to.furth~ering God's glory and to-growing in that participation of, the divine life which comes with grace. Three degrees of hygienic mortification may be distinguished: first, avoiding any sin-ful neglect in the care of one's health; second, steering clear of whatever would .involve danger of such neglect; and third, refraining from wh~itever is less commendable in favor of the more commendable in this matter. Health is either physical or psychical. For the present, let us confine our. discussion to physical hygienic mortifica-tion. The psychic is more important in many respects, and more akin to the° "interior mortification" of the spiritual masters. Possibly in a subesequent paper we may revert.to it. Up to a certain point there is a strict obligation from the divine natural law to care for one's life and health. "Thou shalt not kill," either others or thyself. It is ethical to regulate our conduct in accordance with rational human nature and to avoid what tends to damage or destroy it. This d.uty requires .that one should use the ordinary means of sa.feguarding and preserving life and health. Nature is necessary for the supernatural life. If nature can do nothing in the supernatural order without grace; "neither can grace do anything without nature. It is .equally helpless. The Code of Canon Law, 1369, pr~scrib'es that those who are in charge, of seminaries should exhort the ~emii~arians Con-stant. ly to obs'erve the principles of hygiene and personal cleanliness. Presumably it is in .keeping with the mind of the Church that religious should do at lea~t~ as much. One who is. striving to become perfect will not stop with what is of strict obligation. He will constantly endeavor to do the better thing. Thebetter thing will indlude what-ever, other things being equal, is more conducive to bodily strength and effid~ncy. God counsels solicitude for health. "Better is a poor man who is sound, and strong of constitution, than a rich man who is weak and afflicted with evils. Health of the soul in holiness of justice, is better than all gold and silver: .and a sound body, than immense revenues. There is no riches above the riches of health of the body; and there is no pleasure above the joy of the heart. Better is death 33 t/~an a bit~ter life: and everlasting rest; than continual" sick-ness" (Ecclesiasticus 30: 14-17), In his inspired epistle to Timothy, St. Paul did not disdain to give this advice to one of the first bishops: "Drink no longer water only, but use a little wine, on account of thy stomach and thy frequent illness" (I Timothy 5:23). The divine counsel to have a concern for health is implied in all the numerous exhorta-tions to accomplish good works. As Pope Plus XI wrote in his "Encyclical on Education,"--.something, by the way, especially deserving notice by teadhers--"The true Chris-tian does not., stunt his natural faculties; but he develops and perfects them, by coordinating them with the super-natural. He thus ennobles what is merely natural in life and secures for it new strength in the material ond temporal order, no less than in the spiritual and eternal" (3). This is not the place for a presentation of the principles of hygiene, nor, even if it~ were, should I be presumptuous enough to. attempt such a thing. I should be:like the patient in the medical adage: "He who has himself for a doctor, has a fool for. a patient." If any religious should not know the elementary rules of h~giene, that is, the ~ules for living on the physiological plane, then let him begin his hygienic mortification by taking the trouble to-l~arn them. This is not an original suggestion ot: mine. A first-rate ascetical theologian of the twentieth century, namely, Zimmermann, the author of the excellent treatise Lel~rbucl~ der Asz~tik, counsels everyone seeking perfection to learn both the general prindiples of hygiene which may be studied, and the individual applica-tions and variations which must be gathered by personal experience (4). My attempt will be confined to indicatingcertain points on which the autldorities in hygiene do have something to prescribe, and to suggesting certain possible deviations that may perchance be found among religious. Posture migh~ be considered first. Constantly to pre-serve a wholesome and becoming posture of the body would not 6nly make for health, especially of the lungs, but it would also be something that would please others, and it would add to the influence of one's personality on others. Were it better observed, there would be fewer ill-looking (3) Pius XI. Christian Education of Youth; The Paulist Press: page 37. " '(4) Zimmermann. Otto. Lerhbueb d~r Asz.e. tiko page 516. 3# religious whose very appearance is, to put it mildly, not pleasing nor apt to inspire respect in Others. Certain religious seem to be given to the use of an exces-sive amount of clothing. To see them Out in winter weather, one might suspect from the. great number of thi~ngs 'which they are wearing, that they were planning on visiting the polar regions. Habitu'ally they are over-dressed. Then, sooner or later, iinevitably they are caught in some unex-pected exposure to cold, and, being sensitive like hot-house plants, rather than possessing the normal adaptability .to moderate variations in temperature, they~may catch cold,~ or develop a sore-throat or something of the sort. In any case, one would not expect a man who is ~eally mortified to be meticulous about slight changes in the temperature. Per- 'haps just the same persons are those who, believing that, as everything has its place, the proper place for fresh ai~ in winter is outside, insist on an immoderately high tempera- ~ure, and along with it, a bad atmosphere in the room. Thus .they diminish their alertness and efficiency, and at the same time waste steam and coal. Keeping the rules df etiquette at table would presum-ably be beneficial rather than harmful to one's health. At all events, it could be real charity and mortification. Cer-tainly, very certainly, it would be a great kindness to others, and tend to promote good appetite and health in the com-munity, as the neglect of good manners may be so great as to become disgusting to others. If there should be any re-" ligious who do not already know the ordinary pr~escriptions of table etiquette, then, by. all means, let them get Emily ¯ Post, and study her. It could be a very genuine act of vir-tue. Probably there are very few religious, those excepted who are already on a diet ordered by a physician, who could not make some change in their habits of eating and drinking that would not redound both to their physical well-being and to the glory of God. The right amount, the right balance of,diet, the right way of taking it,--these are points in which it is most human to err. Some, like chil-dren, may be inclined to slight the simple, solid substantials, and to show themselves too fond of sweets, desserts, and such better-tasting things. Possibly there are some who could at the same time reduce the community butcher-bill and improve their health. Some, though they lead a very 35 Sedentary lifd, may eat as if they had to dig ditches or. pitch. hay all day. .It i~ often said now that many Americans, even thosewho eat as much as and 'whatever they like, are star.ring themselves for the want of certain necessary ele-ments in their,diet: vitamines; for instance. Perhaps some ~.religious could drink less coffee, and thus improvetheir nerves, their t.emp~rs, their sleep, and their work. ~ The problems.of overweight and underweight, and all .their consequence.s, which may be 3r.ery serious indeed,hatur- :ally.suggest~ themselves in this context. Perhaps one ~eli-gi0us needs tO drink more milk, though he ~tislikes it~ and .another ought to'take.less of it, though he Iovesit. Pos-sibly one religious should mortify his pride and ask for permission to have an extra lunch~ between meals; "and an: other would do w~ll to obtain leave.to Omit the midday l_uneh. Iridi.vidual applic.ations of this point are~ infinite: If one realizes that he should dos0mething, gut not ~know what, it .would be easy to question the community phys, ician and find out. Thereare many religious who CgUld pr.actice this particular form of hygienic mortification, arid while making themselves more healthy and robust and fit for work and for a lon.ger life, also add very great!~; ~o the glory of God and the glory of His Elect in the hereafter. If one were to accuse, many male religious of smoking too much and thug really injuring themselves, one wduld only be repeating what they themselves accuse themselves of. Their oportunityiS obvious~ and the mortification involved would b~ great; but So ~ouldothe returris, at least in supernatural merit. T, he possibilities for mortification and for edific~ation, in connection with alc6h61 need only to ¯ be suggested. No,doubt there are many religious, who, if they be well-informed and sincere, would have to admit that some ~hangeinz~their lives ~ith respect to exercise Would, even from the spiritual pointof view, be an excellent thihg for them. If they need more physical exercise and can get it in some pleasant way, relaxing the nerves and mind as well as stirring the muscles, somuch the bett~r. " But get itthey ought, if they are fully to accomplish the tasks assigned to them by Providence. If nothing else .be possible; some form of calisthenics or setting-up exercise~ might be" tried fo~ a. prescribed number of minutes every day. If anybody think that there is no great mortification in faithfully per~ severing° in such a routine day after day and' month after m0nth,~let him try it . Many religious women would probably: be spared many troubles of mind and conscience, would performtheir exeicises of.piety with more energy and devotion, and would be more ready°in their obedience~ and work, as well, as morse healthy, if they h'ad a little walk every day' in the fresh air. Younger sisters, who until rather recently were college girls taking part in college athletics, might play a short game of tennis, or something of the kind. It would make for sound nerves and clear heads, and these in turn could obviate many. temptations and worries. It is:.true indeed that St. Paul wrote to Timothy: "For whereas bodily training oi~.,profitable for little, pietyis profitable for'all,things, .pos-sessing promise of life both here and hereafter" (I Tim-othy' 4:8). I take this to mean th~it bodily.training is of .little value in comparison with piety; but in as much as it is subordinated to.the purposes of wirtue and is a requisite condition for more vigorous piety, or piety in a longer life, its .wo.rthmay bereallY~very~great. ' " -" The ancient ascetics by way of reaction, it seems, to abuses connected with.the old public baths, mortified them-selves by not bathing. Could it be true that some.modern ascetics might practice mortification and virtue .by-making more use of it? ~ Care of the eyes deserves special mention. Apparently there are many who could deny themselves at times by taking the trouble to get better light when they are reading. Work, since it takes most of .the time and energy of religious, is a very fertile field for mortification. Some over-w' 6rk themselves for a time, and then for. a longer time they ¯ cannot do the normal amount, and perhaps~ ~hey evens:need the work of others to attend to them. Their ~problem is to avoid excess here, asin the practice of virtue generally. would Seem to be a good rule that there should.~nev~er:~.be overwork or overstrain except in emergencies. In the long run it is very poor economy and ef[iciency. They especially should cultivate self-abnegation'm avoiding overfatigue wh6 do not let superiors know that too much has been assigned to them; or who deceive themselves into believing that they. are heroically sacrificing themselves for noble motives when in 'reality there is an admixture of piide or human respect or merely human desire of success in thei:r 37 motivation. Sisters who in difficult days are attempting the double tasks of teaching and of getting their own edu-: cation at the Same time need more than others to guard themselves, even as the dreaded examinations approach, against overstudy and excessive exhaustion. Overfatigue -begets irritability, diminishes intelligence and liberty, and unbalances the nerves. Then the way is open to evils of all sorts, physical, mental, and moral. "So that ye may not grow weary and lose heart" (Hebrews 12:3). Humbly to be satisfied with a modest accomplishment when that is all that is possible without injuring oneself, or diminishing one's achievement in the end, is a very salutary form of mortification. There are others whose fault is too little exertion. Some of these, could benefit themselves physically, and perhaps mentally, as well as spiritually, by increasing their efforts until they reach the mean between excess and defect. Occu-pational therapy is an important kind of treatment for certain cases. After work, recreation and rest. For people who lead a life as strenuous and tense and uniform as the religious life is, recreation is of great importance. If they do not unbend at times, they will break. But are there not some religious who do not take even that minimum amount of recreation which is enjoined for them by their rules or their superiors? Here, in a peculiarway, to mortification charity could also be added. It is understood of course that what is supposed to be recreation or relaxation, really is recreation. Prob-ably no one will deny that there are at least a few religious who could advance in self-abnegation, and in prayer (especially the next morning), and in .virtue generally, by beginning their night's sleep betimes. Thus far certain points which may be the subject of ~mortification that is good for the body as well as for the soul. Only those in normal health, or at least in health that is nearly normal, have been considered. If one be sick already, evidently one has a greater need for hygienic mortification, and a greater opportunity to bear what is unpleasant and to forbear what is pleasant. Those who as yet are well, but, through some neglect or other, are slowly but surely undermining their health, could more easily and readily mend their ways if they could imagine to some slight extent what pain and torture, whaf 38 disappointment, what bitter sense of frustration, they are bringing upon thems~elves. Mortification is hard; other-wise it would not be mortification. But it is still worse to be sickand incapacitated, particularly if that be owing to some negligence or fault. An initial, though negative, advantage of hygienic mortification is that nobody can object to it on the score that it might injure his health. By definition, it makes for better health. Then, it possesses the-advantages and values of other forms of mortification, and besides, it is more thor-oughly positive and constructive than some of them. It is real and genuine mortification, involving, as it does, the suppression of much that is pleasant and the enduring of much that is unpleasant. :If anyone should think other-wise, he can try the experiment. Religious have a special need of keeping fit physically. There is the importance, in time and eternity, of their work, and this depends in great measure, on health and strength. An intense interior life--and this is always the ideal of religious--makes greater demands upon physical resources than the intellectual life, which in turn is hard enough upon the physique. The cultivation of mental prayer, of supreme importance in the spiritual life, demands that one's physical resources be at their best. Community o,bservances require health in the members of the com-munity, and if a sickly person drags himself along somehow to follow them, he is likely to become still worse and more incapable of continued community life. The great foundress, St. Theresa of Avila, who knew well the problems of religious women, and particularly the difficulties of mental prayer, wrote: "It is this resolution [to be always thinking of Him and loving Him] that He [God] seeks in us; the o~her anxieties which we inflkt upon ourselves serve to no other end but to disquiet the soul-- which, if it be unable to derive any profit, in one hour [of prayer], will-by ttiem be disabled for four. This comes most frequently from bodily indisposition--I have had very ~reat experience in the matter, and I l~now it is true; for I have carefully observed it and discussed it afterwards with spiritual persons--for we are so wretched, that this poor prisoner of a soul shares in the miseries of the body. The.change.s of season, and the-alterations of the humors,,. very often compel it, without fault of its own, not to do what if would,, but rather to suffer in every way. Mean-while, the more we force the soul on these occasions, the greater the mischief, and the longer it lasts. Some discre-tion must be used, in order to ascertain whether ill-health be the occasion or not. The poor soul must not be stifled. Let those who suffer thus, understa'nd that they are i11: a change should be made in the hour of prayer, and often-times that change should be continued for some days. Let souls pass out of this desert as they can, for it is very often the misery of one that loves God to see itself living in such wretchedness, unable to do what it would, because it has to keepso evil a guest as the body" (5). Other things being equal, alacrity of spiritand intensity of good will in exercises of piety, in keeping religi0us disci-pline, and in doing the work of the order or congregation, are to be expected rather from those who are physically fit ai~d strong than .from those who ,are unfit. The supernatural values of sickness and suffering~are very great, but it is understood and presupposed that the illness should not be due to indiscretion or negligence. ¯ Hygienic mortification~ will. contribute to poverty, because it is cheal~er to be well than to be paying for medi-cines, hospitalizations, and operations, and because healthx,, religious do more work. It will help chastity, by precluding certain temptations due to abnormal physical conditions, and by promoting, that soundness and stability of the ner-vous system which are so necessary for self-control. It will promote obedience, by removing obstacles both to readiness of will ai~d to actual performance, and by conferring greater positive strength and effciency. It will enhance charity and perfectibn it~self, by forestalling irritability and other impediments, and by enabling one to accomplish better and greater things for God and for souls. The present incumbent of the See of Peter and his immediate predecessor seem to offer an illustration in point. If Msgr. Ratti ha~d not been a very energetic Alpine climber, it is not likely that as Pius XI, and as a septuagenarian and an octogenarian, he could have achieved so much for the good of the Church. If I mistake not, the ascetical Car.- dinal Pacelli,while Secretary of State at the Vatican, used gymnastic apparatus installed in a room near his office. (5) St. Theresa, Life, translated b.y D. Lewis: chapter-XI. 40 There is one group of re.ligious for whom hygienic, mor~ tification, as thus far suggested, is not at all recommended. They are the hypochondriacs, to be found, here and there throughout the whole body of religiousl that is, those who are already excessively or even morbidly, solicitous about their health and all that appertains to it. For them it would be poison. However, they still need hygienic mortification: only it is of the psychic form. This they may need very rfiuch ideed. To quote St. Theresa again: "Take care, then, of the body, for the love of God, because at many other times the body must serve tl~e s0ul;.and let recourse be had to some recreations~holy ones such as conversation; or going out intothe fields . . . Altogether, experience is a great matter, and it makes us understand what is convenient for us. Let God be served in all things--His yoke is sweet; and it is of great importance that the soul should not be dragged, as they say, but carried gently, that it may make greater pro-gress" (6.). In conc!usion, a religious practicing physical hygienic mortification, as here proposed, will not by any means put care of his health above things that are of greater value, but rather, with the purest and noblest motives, make the most of the physical constitution that God has given him, and thus be better prepared and disposed to accomplish the very utmost for the glory of the Triune God, for the devel-opment of his own supernatural life, and for the sanctifica-tion of his brethren. He would simply and fully be helping to carry out the grand objective of the Incarnation: "I am come that they may have life, and may have it more abun-dantly" ¯ (2ohn 10: 10). (6) Ibidem. l:::xernpl:ions J:rom Fasting Gerald Kelly, S.J. THE PENITENTIAL season of Lent always brings with it the personal question: what should I do about fasting? Very likely the practical solution to thi~ problem in most religious communities is a regulation to consult one's confessor' and abide by his decision. This is certainly a wholesome custom; and it is notthe purpose of this article to criticize it in any way. Nevertheless, it seems profitable for the religious themselves to know something of the mind of the Church regarding exemptions from fast-ing. This .knowledge should be particularly helpful to superiors, since there may be times when they must pass judgment on their subjects' obligation to fast. Other re-ligious also can profit by the knowledge, for it sometimes happens that they cannot consult their confessor, at least for several days, and, even when they can consult, they can do so more intelligently and follow advice more reasonably if they are familiar with the principles governing their cases. This article, therefore, is intended to answer only one question, which may be phrased as follows: In what cir-cumstances is one exempt from the general law of fasting? The only point to be considered is the obligation to keep the general fasts of the Church. There is no question here of the obligations of rule concerning fasting as these exist in various religious communities. Nor is there question of the ascetical aspect of fasting. We can take for granted that fasting is. a splendid act of penance and mortification, as is evidenced by the entire Catholic tradition in the matter; take for granted also that the keeping of the common fasts of the Church in union with the other members of the Church is highly pleasing to God and of great profit to souls. These are interesting questions, but beside the point of the present article, the whole purpose of which is to determine who, according to the mind of the Church, may omit fasting without violating her law. The first expression of the Church's mind is found in the ecclesiastical law itself. Canon 1254, which contains the fasting law, exempts al! who have not completed their twenty-first year and all who have begun their sixtieth year. 42 Canon.1245 makes provision for other exemptions by granting the power of dispensing to local Ordinaries~ pas-tors, and superiors of exempt clerical orders. Custom, the unwritten law of the Church, exempts all who are engaged in hard and protracted manual labor. The foregoing are the only reasons for exemption con-tained explicitly in the law of the Church. They do not, however, exhaust the reasons which the Church acknowl-edges as valid excuses from the obligation of fasting. By far the greater number of excuses can be found in the teaching of the moral theologians. To put the matter briefly, these theologians, applying a principle approved by the Church as a legitimate method of interpreting the law, teach that fasting is not obligatory when it involves extraordinary difficulty. The word, extraordinarg, has a technical meaning which is perhaps best explained by contrasting it with what might be termed ordinarg difficulty. Evidently, the fasting law is intended to impose on the faithful some inconven-ience, that is, the inconvenience of self-denial. An incon-venience of this kind is termed ordinarg, and it would not excuse anyone from the observance of the fast. On the other hand, in a general law of this nature, the Church does not wish to impose exceptional hardship on anyone; much less does she wish to do harm or to hinder greater good. Such difficulties as these would be termed extraordinaru~, with respect to this law; that is, they are outside the scope of the law, and they excuse the faithful from the obligation of observing it. Applying this principle of extraordinary inconvenience, moralists teach that the sick and convalescent are excused from the obligation of fasting. Also exempt are those who, though perhaps not technically "sick," are of frail consti-tution; also extremely nervous people. Such persons nor-mally need nourishment frequently; fasting would prove harmful to them. It sometimes happens that even those in rather normal health cannot fast without severe headaches or dizzy, spells; also that the fast will render it impossible for them to get ¯ their needed rest at night. Some people are unable to get the one substantial meal allowed to those who fast; some are physically unable to eat or digest such a meal. Finally,. there are many who find that fasting interferes with their 43 necessary work; they lose valuable time and are quite inef-ficient. All cases like these are included under the exemp-tion by reason of extraordinary inconvenience. One might ask this very practical question: How am I to know if fasting would be exceptionally difficult for me or be harmful to me or my work? Perhaps the simplest way of answering this question is to tell such people to experiment a bit. This is the simplest but not always the most prudent method. Unless the experimentation is car-ried on very cautiously, it can work harm, and it can do this so quietly that the harmful effects are not perceived until it is too late. To avoid such injurious effects, one may legiti-mately follow certain recognized presumptions in deciding one's obligations to fast. The presumption of excuse favors those who are engaged in hard mental labor, for example, teachers and students. Regarding teachers, one may notice an interesting development~ in the opinions of theologians. The older theologians were quite ready to excuse a. professor of the higher branches, even though he had to lecture only one hour a day. They presupposed, of course, that he had to spend the day in preparation and that he did not merely read lectures which bad long since been cast into permanent mold. But these theologians were not always so benevo-lently inclined toward teachers of the lower grades (the equivalent of our high schools and grammar schools), even though these had to spend several hours a day in the. class-room. Father Ballerini, an eminent moral theologian of the last century, citing the especially severe opinion of one older school, remarked very tartly: "we should note that these great doctors were always engaged in teaching the higher branches; they had no experience in this humbler art." Also in the case of students there has been a progres-sive development towards leniency. Today, it is quite safe to say that the presumption of excuse favors those who spend several hours a day in teaching the lower grades, as well as diligent students who spend most of the day either in attending lectures or in preparing their lessons. When I say "the presumption of excuse favors" those mentioned in this paragraph, I mean that these persons may consider that they are not obliged to fast, unless they have very solid grounds for assurance that they can fast without, harm to 44 themselves, or their work. Those able to fast while carrying on these works are the.exception, rather than the rule. . The same presumption favors those who must spend long hours in the confessional or who are engaged in strenu-ous preaching.It may also be used in favor of those who are engaged in fatiguing works of mercy, such as caring for the sick. It should be noted that. in a!l these.cases, it is not only the strain of ~the work which favors exemption, but also the fact that the works themselves are of, great impor-tance. There should .be no danger that fasting will inter-fete with their proper performance. The foregoing examples of extraordinary ir~con~cen~ ience were chosen because they are of particular interest or practical value to the readers of this magazine. In cases such as these, the Church law does not bind. Furthermore, merely from the point of view of general legislation, there is no strict obligation Of consulting anyone, if one can form a prudent judgment of his~own case. A community regula-tion of consulting the confessor or spiritual director should; of course, be followed; and in general it is considered wise for everyone to consult about the matter. Often enough, it is diflScult to form a prudent, and especially a quieting; judgment of one's own case. Mention has already been made of those who have the power of granting a dispensation from fasting; local Ordi~ naries, pastors, and superiors of clerical exempt orders. These generally delegate the power to other priests, espe-cially at a time like-Lent: and the Holy. See. occasionally delegates other priests by special indults. None of these, even the Bishop, can give a dispensation without some rea-son; but the reason need not b~ so serious as would be required for exemption by reason of extraordinary~incon-venience. A dispensation is perhaps the best of all means for setting one's mind at rest regarding the obligation 0~ fasting. Even those religious superiors who have no power to dispense can pass judgment on their subjects' ability to keep the fast, and if they judge that a reason such as those described as extraordinary inconveniences is present, they may tell the subject not to fast. For passing such a judg-ment, no special jurisdiction is necessary. Certainly supe-riors are in a position to make a prudent judgment, for they 45 should know both the capacity of their subjects and the strain or importance Of their work. From what has been written here, it will appear that a fairly large number of religious engaged in the active life are not strictly obliged to keep the general fasts of the -Church. They have the same right as others to take advan-tage of exemptions. Someone might object, of course, that religious have an added obligation to give good example. The objection does not appear to have much weight in the :present instance. Religious should, by all means, give example to the world of a spirit of self-denial and mortifi. cation, but it is not necessary that this example extend to ,the letter of the law concerning fasting. In fact, without attempting in any way to minimize the general importance of the fasting law, one might advance several obvious reasons why religious have less need of this particular austerity than have others. ' Their life is a well-regulated, well-disciplined one, and those who lead it faithfully are being constantly schooled in self-denial. Furthermore, the very regularity of their life makes them feel more keenly the change brought about by fasting and renders them more apt to be upset by it. Finally, their work itself is of great spiritual importance.i As for bad example, the sharp or sarcastic word spoken by the confessor, teacher, or nurse is much more harmful than the so-called "scandal" of religious who do not fast. Perhaps these few remarks Will prove helpful to reli-gious, particularly to those who are inclined to worry about the fasting obligation or to lament the fact that they are judged unable to fast. They should take consolation in the thought that they can practise an even more meritorious self-denial by observance of their rule, by fidelity to duty, and especially by a constant and delicate charity. The inability to fast does not deprive them of the opportunity of glorifying God or of helping souls. 46 Saint: Rober Bellarmine's . Sign of the Cross Clement DeMuth, S. J. CATHOLICS with a greater than average knowledge of their religion are ~sometimes at a loss when they are called upon to render an. account of some simple reli-gious truth. They discover in themselves, not so much a lack of technical knowledge that lends itself to explanation only in learned phrase_s, but rather a failure to appreciate thd mental capacity of the child or other unlettered person to be instructed. To adapt one's knowledge of even the simpler God-give~i truths to the understanding of such a person is an art that must be cultivated, and developed, and integrated with one's deepening knowledge of human nature itself. The great catechists in the course of the Church's history practiced this art in signal fashion. One of the greatest of these, if indeed not the very greatest, was St. Robert Bellar-mine, Cardinal, Theologian, and Doctor of the Universal Church. In 1597 Pope Clement VIII requested St. Robert to publish his catecheticai method which was proving so successful With the unlettered people of Rome. The saint prepared two catechisms, the first of which was a compen-dium of Christian Doctrine in form suitable for learning by rote. The second, with Which we are here partkularly con-cerned, was a kind of teacher's manual and was entitled An explanation of Christian Doctrine u;ritten in the form of a Dialogue, for the use of those who teach it to children and to other simple people. The success of the little, two-fold work, written in Italian, was immediate and, What is more significant, enduring to an extraordinary degree. In the words of St. Robert's biographer, Father Brodrick, "wi~h the exception of the Bible and the Imitation of Christ, it would be difficult to name any other book which went round the world so rapidly and became familiar to so many different races." A series of Roman Pontiffs com-mended, prescribed, and in general promoted the little work down through the years from the time of Clement VIII. until our own century. With its richness of content, the saint's early chapter on that most obvious---and not always fully appreciated~ ~prayer, the Sign of the Cross, is representative. Its atten-tive perusal brings the conviction that "children and other simple people" are not the only ones who may profit by the saintly, Doctor's explanation of a simple prayer. The style of composition is informally conversational, with the pupil thoughtfully asking questions which would naturally occur to one listening attentively to the explanation of a rather difficult truth. It may be noted that the teacher makes, continual use of examples and illustrations, never permitting himself to forget that the pupil is little used to abstractions. Here is a translation of the chapter on THE SIGN OF THE CROSS PUPIL: Please give me a brief account of the more important mysteries contained in the Creed. TEACHER: There are two principal mysteries of our faith, and both are included in that sign which we call the Sign of the Cross. The first is the unity and trinity of God. Thesecond is the Incarnation and Death of the Savior PUPIL: What is meant by the unity and trinity of God? TEACHER: These are very deep truths and the explana-tion of them is a very slow process. For the time being, however, it will be enough to learn just the names, :and a very little bit more. The unity of God means that besides all created things there is one thing that had no beginning. It has always been and it will always be. It has made all ¯ other things, and it supports them and governs them. It is the highest, noblest, most beautiful, most powerful, the absolute master of every thing; and this being is called God. There is just one God. There can be only one true Divin-ity, that is, one nature, one essence infinitely powerful, wise, good, and so forth. Nevertheless, this Divinity is found in three persons that are called the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. These three persons are just one God ¯ because they have the same Divinity, the same essence. As for example, if three persons here on earth, named Peter, Paul, and John, had the same body and the same soul, they would remain three persons; because one would be Peter, and another Paul, and another John. Nevertheless, there would be just one man, not three men, there not being three bodies and thr~e souls, but just one body and one soul. 48 Such a state of affairs is not possible among men, because the being of man is little ~and finite, .so it cannot be in many persons. But the being of God, the Divinity of~ God,. is infinite. The same being, the same Divinity is found in the Father, in the Son, and in the Holy Spirit. There are then three persons because one i~ the Father~ the second.is the Son, an.d the third is the Holy Spirit, and there remains nevertheless just one God, because these persons have the same being, the same power, wisdom, goodness, and so forth. PUPIL: Now tell me what is meant by the Incarnation and.Death of the .Savior'. TEACHER: The second divine person, whom we called the Son, besides his divine being, which he had before the 'world was created, indeed from all eternity, this second person took for himself a human body and a human soul, that is, our whole human nature, in the womb of a most pure virgin. Thus he who-was at first just God now began to bd both God and man. After living among men for thirty-three years, during which time he taught the wa~ of salvatioh and worked m~an~r miracles, at last he let him-self be crucified, and on the Cross he died tO make satisfac-tion to God for the sins of the whole world. After thfee days he rose from death to life, and after forty days he a~cended into hea~ce.n, as we say in the article of the Creed.~ That is what we mean by the Incarnation ~ind Death of the Savior. '~PUPIL~ Why are these the principal mysteries of fdith? " " ~FEACHER: Because in the fi~st ~is contained the first principle and last end of man; in the second we have ttie unique and most efficacious means of knowing that first piinciple and of arriving at that last end. And beck/use by our belief in arid confession of th4se two mysteries we~ are distinguished from all th4 false sects, from Turks, ~dews; and heretics. And finally, because without b41ieving and confessing these two mysteries, no one can be saved. PupIi~:. How are these two mysteries included in the Sign of the Cross? TEACHER: ;The Sign of the Cross is made saying: In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy 49 Spirit; at the same time signing oneself in the form of a cross, putting the right hand to the foreh_.ead when one says: In the name of the Father, and then to the breast when one says: and of the Son; finally to the left and right shoulders when one says: and of the Holy Spirit. The words, in the ' Name, show the unity of God, because we say name and not names; and by name is meant the power, and the divine authority, which is one in all three persons. The words, of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, show the trinity of persons, Signing oneself in the form of a cross represents the Passion, and consequently the Incarnation, of the Son of God. Moving the hand from the left to the right, and not from the right to the left, means that by the Passion of our Lord we are transferred from temporal to eternal things, from sin to grace, and from death to life. ~ (NOTE: It may be well to observe that St. Robert, in illustrating certain spiritual realities by the movement of the hand from left to right, can be said to be exercising his ingenuity. He'would no doubt find another interpretation if his catechism were for oriental Catholics, who make the Sign of the Cross moving the hand from right to left!) PUPIL: What is. the effect of making the Sign of the Cross? TEACHER: First, it shows that we are Christians, that is, soldiers of our High Commander, Christ: because this sign is like a flag, or uniform, which distinguishes the sol-diers of Christ from all the enemies of Holy Church; from . gentiles, Jews, Turks, and heretics. Further, this sign is made to invoke the divine assistance in all our works. With ¯ it we summon the aid of the most Holy Trinity, through the Passion of the savior. Accordingly good Christians are .accustomed to make the Sign of the Cross when they rise from bed, when they leave the house, when they sit at table to eat, when they are about to go to bed, and at the beginning of every action that ~hey have to perform. Finally, this sign is made to arm oneself against eirery as-sault of~the devil, because the devil is terrified by it, and flees from it, as do criminals when they encounter the sign of th~i~ police. Very often by means 6f this sign of the holy - Cross man has escaped many evils, both spiritual and tem-p6ral; when he makes it with faith and confidence in the divine meicy and in the merits of Christ, our Lord. 50 Li!:urgy in !:he ¯ P !:t:ern of Modern Praying Gerald Ellard, S.J. WHEN the history o~ our times is written, chroniclers will dwell on the fact that they are characterized by three great, world-embracing prayer-movements. They will speak of the widespread initiation of large groups of the laity of both sexes into systematic asceticism,, be it that of the Spiritual Exercises, or other forms, collectively centering in what is known as the retreat movement~. Again, they will point how this age, .the world,over, has shown a sudden deep concern' practical as well as theoreti-cal, in that communion with God, that apperception of God, known as Catholic mysticism. Lastly historians will take pains to record that twentienth century Catholicism is endeavoring once more to integrate the layman and lay-woman into the offices of public worship. Doubtless, too, the portrait-painters of our age will pause a bit to discourse on the mysterious power possessed by this Church twenty. centuries young to renew its life and reform its institutions by drawing upon fresh streams of vita!it~ welling strong within her. ".So it has been in each great crisis," we can well imagine one of them concluding-; "when the forces of the Church seems spent, then it is she finds new power surging up within her: in the twentieth century the Church refreshed herself and the world by refashioning the pattern of her praying." This article concerns itself in elementary fashion with indicating what is to be expected from the restoration to the people, in the pews, after many long ages, of their organic contact with the ministry in the sanctuary in the joint performance of divine service. The better to visualize the goal o[ this reform in Cath-olic corporate worship, suppose we ask ourselves why such a thing as the. current liturgical movement was simply inevitable, and must have come sooner or later, if the Church were not content to see one. of her chief organs wither to full atrophy. The present-day reform of Cath-olic worship seeks to redress the multiple losses that laymen. and laywomen have suffered in the course of time in their parr in our common worship, seeks to lower the wall of separation, which quite literally in many medieval churches to be seen to this day, and figuratively in them all, shuts the laity out from active sharing in what went on within the holy place where the priestly mediator stood at the altar. It was characteristic of Christian worship from the very outset that it was planned precisely to allow the fullest understanding on thd part of all, the fullest sharing in their respective roles .by ministry and people in their joint asso- Ciation with Christ, theirPriest, their Liturgist. Pagan altars were accessible to the pagan priests alone; the ,Jewish Temple admitted' lay-worshippers to the outer court near to the altar. But with Christians the altar itself stood con- ~picuous and accessible to every least, last Christian, because m the new priestly race, all had some sharing, priestly or lay, in the perpetuation of Christ's priestly ministry in the covenant of 10ve. St. Paul thankedGod that he efijoyed the miraculous gift of speaking God's praises in unknown tongues: "Nevertheless," he said, "in church I had rather speak five words with my understanding, so as to instruct Others, than ten thousand words in a 'tongue' " I and my hearers do not understand" (I Corinthenians 14:: 19). Now Catholic worship in the West turned from the primitive Greek to the Latin, when that became the tongue the com-mon man understood best. It then took the liturgy of 'the Western Church a fairly long period in which to grow and develop, until at Rome under Gregory I, Pop.e from 590 to .°.6. 04, it achieved its zenith, the perfect expression of the Latin Christian's corporate worship of almighty God. How regrettable that Gregory lived in an age of indescrib-able upheaval, which rendered the realization of his ideal in worship impossible in any ecumenical manner! Particu- ¯ lar features excepted, the liturgy of the Roman Rite has never since received such a thorough-going reform and readjustment to current life as Gregory gave it then. In one way or another the layman's place in the liturgy has become more circumscribed with every century since Gregor3~ lived. To illustrate how this has been the case, suppose we imagine a sevent.h-century man or woman living on as a 'Wandering Christian" through the intervening centuries, and note how such a pilgrim would find lay-participation in worship further impoverished age by age. 52 In Gregory's day, for all greater occasions, people met at a fixed rendezvous and then marched to church .with Cross and banners, prayer and song~ At the common type of Mass, what we call high Mass, pedple and choir of clerics together madd, in the language of everydayiife, those responses to the celebrant, which, if they are not exactly the structure of the service, are nonetheless so many short, vibrant bonds with the altar. At the entrance of the clergy, in alternation with the choir, there was singing. So, too, did the people come singing to bring their gifts to the altar at the Offering (Offertory). They shared the~cle'rgy's ceremonial postures, standing, extending their arms, bowing or kneeling with the ministers, and gave each other the kiss of peace. So did they join in the psalmody, singing at leas~ the Gloria Patti, the K~rie, the Sanctus, and, when it was later introduced, the Agnus Dei. Singing too they came to the altar, the Table of Union, itself the sign, as the Fathers of Trent were to phrase it later, "of that one Body of which He is the Head, and to which He would fain have us as members united by the closest bond of faith, hope and love." The Roman of Gregory's day could in many ways feel himself "concorporate" in his' worship with every one sharing that worship with him. In the following century, had our pilgrim attended Mass in England, France, Germany, notto mention other coun-tries, he would look in vain for the procession to Mass. Save on Christmas, Easter or Pentecost there would be few communicants at Mass, and correspondingly few offerers giving visible expression of the basic concept of the worship of God by sacrifice. Then, too, he would have found him-self one of the very few laymen able to follow the stately Latin,and, as we see from conciliar enactments, not all the priests able to translate for him! But.our pilgrim would: note with a sigh the people's' eagerness in singing as far.as circumstances allowed. There at least he could still join. with them in prayer that sang. After a second century of wandering, during let us say the pontificate of Nicholas I ( 8 5 8- 8 6 7), our pilgrim would have noted with growing apprehension how elementary part-singing had already been discovered. "I sadly fear this may in course of time lead to the neglect, or even-the corruption, of unison singing, planesong,* alone possible to *Concerning this spelling, see note at the end of the article. 53 the congregation as a whole." But he would have hailed with delight the opportunity given him in the appearance of the sequences,~ to sing simple, homely rhyming lines with lustiness and joy, Could he have foreseen the future, he would have known that after their period of development, and luxuriance, there would follow such decay that with fewest exceptions the sequences were all to be expunged from the Missal. When that happened, there was taken from the layman the last impoitant element of the Mass he could still sing. And so it goes across the ages. When St. Thomas was writing in the thirteenth century his explanation of the Mass, he takes it- for~granted that "there are words which the l~riest begins and thd people take up . the Creed and the Gloria.'" In St. Thomas' day the people stil.1 answered Et cam st~iritu tuo, Amen and the like. Shall we follow our weary pilgrim into-the fourteenth century? In The Low Countries, England, France, Ger-many and elsewhere we find him complaining that the new measured music in such rising vogue everywhere was by its very difticulty robbing him of his chance to sing his prayer to God. "Soon.all singing in church will be the monopoly of the expert musicians, and to them will be restricted the fulfillment of St. Augustine's words, 'He that sings prays double.' " What was more, the new type of music, by its sensuous character, so said Pope John XXII, was under-mining his virility of soul. But Pope John XXII was one of the popes of the so-called Avignon Captivity; and for that reason people considere~l him unduly influenced by the French court. His admonitions drew little attention. ~ There was a period when the Council of, Basle was Cath-olic and well-inspired, and thither our pilgrim might have looked for reform of long-standing abuses. How he would have been cheered to note the Council's condemnation and abolition (?) of that abuse whereby "low Mass was said in such a tow .tone that it cannot be heard by those attending." That abuse seems to-have been spreading then in the northern parts of Europe: "If this is not stopped,~' our pilgrim grimly reflects,"even my few answers at low Mass will soon be made impossible." But that was at a day when the Church hadjust healed :the great scandal of the Great Western.Schism, and papal prestige stood too low to effect far-teaching reforms just then. in 15.18 Cardinal Louis of Aragon went into The Low Countries. ~Hadour pilgrim gonein his train be might .have seen the cardinal's secretary~ write in his journal about the Flemish priests:"They say .[Mass] . . . so low that no ohe hears their voices. They do not permit anyone .to make the responses, except the servers, and no one else."' That was~ noted, of course, because it was cbntrary to Roman practice come down from time beyond memory. But in 1518 Rome was suffering the baleful consequences of Italian Humanism, and suggestions a cardinal.might make on 1.ittle points like letting the'people respon~l at low Mass would fall with little weight. Then, too, when the car; dinal's secretary made that entry in his notebook, it was already soinemonthssinceMartin Luther had appended.his theses to the door of the Cathedral of Wittenburg, and thereby set in motion a chain of events that led to the calling of.the Council of Trent. "At long last the-layman'~s losses over a_period of a thousand years will surely be redressed at this greht Council," said our pilgrim as he faced the journey to Trent.Let us see how Trent prescribed for the cure of this pernicious aenemia of the layman's worship, only to have the administration of the remedy, postponed by yet further troubles. The aging Luther ,did not see fit to attend the Council, to .which he had once so solemnly appealed, and indeed he was in- his grave beforeits sessions were completed. But despite~his absence, he was the greatest chalienge to the Council, because he had become the symbol of every kind of error, the accuser of every discoverable abuse. Not a few,of those abuses were related to public worship, and as our pilgrim could have testified, were associated-with th~ fact that for centuries the layman was being deprived by force of circumstances ,of an active and intelligent part in divine service. All.this, it Was then hoped, would be remedied in this great Council. ~' Of all the Cotincils, Trent claims a position unique in many ways, one of which was that from the very outset the definition of. doctrine and the enactment of reform-decrees went forward simultaneously. From the Second Session (the decree opening the Council being the sole. business, of the First Sesson), ,lanuary 7, 1546, to the Twenty-Fifth 55 Session, December 4, 1563, the multiple questions to.ucl~ing the reform of Catholic public worship came up again and again. The Council's solicitude' was most in evidence in all that referred to holy Mass, becau.~e, as the Fathers said, "of all holy things this Sacrifice is the most holy." In resisting the Protestant demands, the Council deemed it "inadvisable that Mass should be celebrated everywhere in the vulgar tongue." Yet on all having the care of souls it laid the obligation, "lest the little ones ask for bread and there be none to break unto them, to explain frequently during the celebration of the Mass, especially on Sundays and festival days . some mystery of this most holy Sac-rifice." If Trent similarly rejected the Reformers' petition " that the entire Mass be said aloud, it did reaffirm "that some .things in the Mass be pronounced in a low tone and others m a louder tone." Masses at which the priest alone com-municated were emphatically declared to be valid Masses, yet in crystal-clear language is affirmed the desirability of having all worshippers communicate: "The holy Council wishes indeed that at each Mass the faithful who are present should communicate, not only in spiritual desire, but also by the sacramental partaking of the Eucharist, that thereby they may derive from this most holy Sacrifice a more abun-dant fruit." With regard to nuns the. Council here went .further and decreed that they must communicate .at least once a month: "Bishops and other superiors of monasteries° shall t~ike special care that the nuns., confess their sins and receive the most holy Eucharist at least once a month." The reforms of the Missal and the Breviary, begun at the .Council, were then handed over to the Holy See for com-pletion. In a hundred minor ways the Council showed its zeal that anything savoring in the least degree of unworthi-ness be kept from the public worship of the Church. The thorny problem of having only proper music in the churches was given much more serious consideration than might be judged from the brevity, of this enactment: "They [local Ordinaries] shall also banish from the churches those types of music in which, whether by the organ or in the singing, there is mixed up anything unbe-coming., so that the house of God.may be truly a house of prayer." Indeed many a bishop at the Council may have had the painful experience of the force of that saying, that .more people were sung into Protestantism than argued into 56 it. As early as 1523; in his Form for Mass and Communion, Luther had touched upon the desirability of German singing: "I would wish among us to l~ave as much as pos-sible in the vernacular what the people sing at Mass." Within a year Luther had contributed no less than twenty hymns of his own composition to his cause, and after Ein /:este Burg had made its sensational reputation, reli-gious rebels in non-German countries began to sweep peop!e into their conventicles by giving .them the chance to sing at divine service. Small wonder that the Fathers of Trent, with all this before their eyes, wished to purge away the corruption that had overlaid the ChUrch's once so popular planesong. This once restored to the people, these would be saved the sad choice of active participation in unorthodox worship, or mute and silent worship in the Church of Rome. Thus our long-suffering pilgrim, attending the ses-sions of Trent, might have envisaged a veri

Issue 42.4 of the Review for Religious, July/August 1983. ; REVIEW FOR R~.L~c, lous (ISSN 0034-639X), published evcry 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. Rv.vw.w FOR REI.IGIOUS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. © 1983 by R~.v~Ew ~:oR REIAG~OUS. Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis. MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription U.S.A.: $9.00 a year: $17.00 for two years. Other countries: add $2.00 per year (postage). For subscription orders or change of address, write: REVI~:W I.'OR REHC.tOIIS: P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Daniel T. Costello, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Book Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor July/August, 1983 Volume 42 Number 4 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REWEW ~'OR RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; Jesuit Community; St. Joseph's University; City Avenue at 54th St.; Philadelphia, PA 19131. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. "Oul of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms Intergational; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. Trends in Religious Life Today John M. Lozano, C.M.F. On the evening of June 16, in joint sponsorship with St. Louis University's Department of Theological Studies, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS launched the fi~st of an annual series of lectures and colloquies on a subject of pertinence to religious life as such. The first lecture in this series, the basis of the present article, was given by Father John Lozano, already known to our readers as an author specializing in the history and theology of religious life. Father Lozano has taught at universities both here and abroad; he is presently superior of the Claretian house of studies in Chicago and teaches at the Catholic Theological Union there. He may be addressed at his residence: Claret House; 5540 S. Everett; Chicago, IL 60637. The following reflections are offered as a sort of aerial photograph of the most prominent features emerging on the landscape of the religious life. We will take a look at some of the main trends that seem to be shaping the future .of this landscape, and examine some of the main difficulties that its terrain presents for the religious traveler today. Many of these trends and difficulties seem to be closely interrelated. At the end of our survey we will concentrate on one major difficulty that seems to arise from causes that are more general than is sometimes supposed. I will be speaking mainly from the viewpoint of the northern hemisphere (North American and Europe), but my work in some other parts of the globe (Latin America, Australia and the Philippines) has shown that the same trends are emerging in broad areas throughout the Church. The rapidity of modern communications and the international outreach of books and reviews has tended to hasten the spread of ideas and attitudes from one continent to another. I base these reflections on my personal experience. During the last twenty years, which I have dedicated to studying the religious life and working with a broad spectrum of men's and women's religious communities, I have always striven to relate a theological vision of the religious life to the experiences that I 481 4119 / Review for Religious, July-August; 1983 and those I worked with were undergoing at the time. I have also had to pay close attention to what others were writing on these subjects. Naturally, my nearness to the phenomena I deal with (my own present) has been a somewhat mixed blessing: on the one hand, it has given me the immediacy of an "insider's" experience of these phenomena; on the other, it has been a real test of objectivity, since I had to write about them with a degree of passionate involvement. For this is a history we are all enjoying and suffering together~ In the exposition that follows, I have chosen not to separate trends in theology from trends in life, since common sense and all my previous work have shown them to be intimately related. There is no need to dwell on the particular circumstances that lead us to reflect on the present state of the religious life. It is a well-known fact that it is currently undergoing a serious crisis of growth and adaptation. Many are wondering if it really has a future,~ while a number of religious communities who have felt a sharp decrease in membership are worrying whether they will manage to survive. In view of these facts, it makes little sense to try to lay the blame for them on individual failures. What we are going through is a failure of institutions as such? This is not surprising if we bear in mind the profound technological and cultural changes that have taken place in our society, as well as the rapidity with which they have occurred and will continue to occur. The Second Vatican Council spoke of our times as a new epoch in history and tried to make the Church face up to it. In a memorable address to the Wes~on School of Theology, Karl Rahner stated that "the second Vatican Council is, in a rudimentary form still groping for identity, the Cl~urch's first self-actualiza-tion as a World Church.'~ Thus the third great epoch of the Church's history is beginning to open up, after the. very brief Judeo-Christian Epoch and the Occidental Epoch that started when Paul brought the gospel to the Gentiles and began incarnating it in their culture. The deep changes which this new epoch will bring, although they will surely be of great consequence for the Church, can as yet hardly be glimpsed. If the Church is already witnessing some of these profound changes, then the religious life, which in its various forms has always tried to respond to the needs of the Church, will itself have to undergo a necessary crisis of readjust-ment. That is why we simply have to reflect on what is going on. In dealing with the mosi general trends observable in the religious life today, it seemed appropriate to group them under the following six headings: 1) the centrality of the person, 2) the growing advocacy of women's rights, 3) the predominance of life over institutions, 4) ministerial openness to the world, 5) the reinterpretation of religious life, and 6) the problem of lifelong commitment. Finally, we will consider a single issue of great concern: the scarcity of vocations. 1. The Centrality of the Person The frequency with which certain aspects of religious life are discussed, and Trends in Religious I~fe / 411~ the way in which certain concrete situations are handled, reveal a growing tendency to regard the religious person as a central criterion. This theme has been the object of deep philosophical reflection by Christian thinkers during our century. In France, it was first dealt with by Jacques Maritain and then in a quite different way by Emmanuel Mounier. In Europe generally, the trauma of modern dictatorships--which made party or national loyalty the life-or-death criterion for the individual--also helped us see the dangers latent in the way some religious families viewed issues of solidarity and obedience. The trauma was a salutary one, because both the theoretical authoritarianism of anti-democrats like Charles Maurras and the practical authoritarianism of dictators like Mussolini, Salazar, Franco and Peron had no small influence in some ecclesiastical and religious circles. But since the time of John XXIII, a new definition of the common good has begun to leave its mark on magisterial teachings and statements.4 This definition regards the common good not as the sum of common goals (to which individuals are sacrificed), but as an environ-ment of freedom, peace and solidarity where persons may more readily achieve development and fulfillment. Even in the darkest hours of the past, no matter how much we conformed, somewhere in the back of our memory we could never quite let go of the Loi'd's saying that "the sabbath was made for human beings, not human beings for the sabbath," or of the pastoral axiom that "the sacraments are for persons." But clearly, our more democratic milieu and the institutional images it projects, together with the spread of the new psycholo-gies of personal development in Europe and North America, have made us more sensitive to this theme. 1.1. The Development of One's Own Talents. This is not only an important concern for individual religious, but also figures in a whole series of renewed constitutions. In the past, constitutions ordinarily asked community leaders to watch over the spiritual and physical welfare of their sisters and brothers.5 The new texts ask them to facilitate the overall growth of their sisters and brothers, whether on the level of psychological health, education or professional prepa-ration. 6 In fact, a number of the new constitutions speak of the overall growth of the religious, and make the community co-responsible with the individual in achieving this growth.7 The now-common secretariats and programs for con-tinuing formation and education point in the same direction. But individual religious share this concern. There is a general tendency to affirm oneself and develop one's gifts. This has had its effect on spirituality, which is viewed as a means for achieving one's full potential (holiness/whole-ness), and on the theology of the vows, which are viewed dynamically, as means to personal growth.8 The achievement of personal fulfillment was already a goal in the teaching of Aquinas and Bonaventure, who treated the vows as means for arriving at the perfection of charity,9 although greater stress is laid today on the overall aspect of maturity. One difficulty felt by many religious and frequently echoed in religious chapters and congresses, can be summed up in the question: How are one's 411~ / Review for Religious, July-August, 1983 personal fulfillment and gifts to be related to the common good, aims and ministries of the institute?10 Theoretically, the issue seems clear enough. On the one hand, the members of every religious community share a common voca-tion and have received from God the same charism that was first given to their founder or foundress. On the other hand, each member is a different personal-ity, with different gifts that he or she has a duty to cultivate and make bear fruit. In short, it is a matter of a diversity of personalities being united in communion. We should perhaps note in passing that actual, absolute liberty, that is, the real possibility of developing one's personality to the maximum, simply does not exist. Every adult, even one who is single and free, has to build his or her existence within a limited gamut of possibilities, and always with some attendant sacrifices. No one, let alone a person committed to one or more persons in a family, in matrimony or in a celibate community, can work out his or her own development without reference to solidarity to others. Anyone who persists in trying to evade solidarity will end up psychologically warped or stunted. Individual religious must always be ready to make sacri-rices, and these sacrifices will definitely make them grow. However, on its part, the community cannot pursue its common good or goals through a systematic policy of sacrificing its members. The development and happiness of individual members carries over into the common good of the group. The concrete solution to this problem is to be sought and found in a sense of communion and real dialogue between the group (its representatives) and the individual. 1.2. Freedom. Isaac Hecker, with fine American sense, wrote that "a great and large freedom of action should be the spirit" of the Paulist community.~1 It is significant that the terms "freedom" and "liberty" occur so frequently in revised constitutions.'2 Of course, individual freedom of choice has always been required for acceptance into community. One was--and is--in community, out of a desire to be in community. But community and obedience were commonly seen from the viewpoint of sacrificing one's individual freedom. In the new type of community there is ample room for individual freedom and initiative. We have referred in passing to the disappearance of the disciplinary type of community that began forming in the 19th century, with its peculiar stresses in reaction to the French Revolution: a type of community dominated by uniformity in dress, in timetables and, in lay communities of women and men, in the kind of ministry practiced. The new constitutions contain few disciplinary regulations. The local community can now, ordinarily, determine its own internal norms and make its own decisions. The number of community acts, which were excessive in many communities founded in the last few centuries, has been reduced to a minimum. Not only religious men, but reli-gious women as well, now have to seek out their own ministerial works, rather than receive them passively from the community. Recently a sister told me: "We ourselves have to create our own jobs and living conditions." Obviously, this kind of freedom has its price. A religious must now make a real effort to maintain communion with his or her own group. Today's community tends to Trends in Religious Life / 4115 be seen in the light of unity in essentials, liberty in what does not affect the common values of religious lifeor the charism and spirit of the institute, and a definite effort at establishing a communion of love. Initially, the downfall of restrictive norms and community acts, together with the broadening field for autonomous, individual decisions, left a good number of religious with the impression that community life had all but disappeared. However, after a period of personal search, religious began to feel the need to return to a more intensely lived form of community, this time based on interpersonal relationships. More spontaneous and creative acts of common prayer began to appear. Nevertheless, there are quite a few men and women religious who have kept their liberty without managing to create com-munion. Of course, many religious live in community, in the sense that they come home to sleep under the same roof, share meals together and treat each other with respect. But the number of religious who are living alone, when they could be living in community, is somewhat notable. The fact that more women than men are living alone may be traced to a number of factors. For one thing, the number of men whose work is tied to institutions (parishes, schools, retreat houses) is proportionately greater. Moreover, women religious may have a greater psychological need for living alone. In the past, women's communities were far more restrictive than men's, and thus the reaction of the former has been that much stronger. Besides this, as we shall see in more detail later, all women, and religious women in particular, are struggling to emerge as persons, against the restrictions still imposed on them by the ecclesiastical community. 1.3. Pluralism in Community. This brings us to the subject of pluralism, which was so warmly debated in not a few chapters of renewal. In the past, there was a strong tendency toward uniformity. Everyone studied the same theology and followed the same methods of prayer. Each institute had a uniform theological or spiritual language. Today the great variety of theological positions in the Church is reflected within religious families, and often within the same reli-gious house. This affects the way we view the religious life and its objectives, and these different views are translated into different life-styles. Pluralism can immensely enrich our communities, provided it does not jeopardize essentials, thus weakening or undermining spiritual cohesion. But pluralism has now reached a transitional phase in which it can give rise to considerable suffering. Those who are inclined toward a more traditional type of life, to a distinctive habit, or to a more devotional form of piety, may suffer and feel lost among others who are leading a different type of life. Those who are inclined to a more personal life-style, with a more modem sensibility, often feel that they are the object of suspicion and insinuations. Theological plural-ism, above all for initiates, can cause acute moral suffering. We may some-times be offered an image of Christ, or a paradigm for relationships with Christ, that wounds our feelings. We might do well to recall that pluralism in freedom caused serious prob-lems for the tiny ecclesial communities of Paul, both on the theological level 41~6 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1983 (the role of the Law) and on the practical level (eating food offered to idols). Paul's recommendation was that all should practice a delicate charity toward one another. Those who felt more restricted should respect the conscience of others, while those who felt more free in these matters should exercise their freedom without inflicting unnecessary wounds on those of a different persua-sion. "Each of you should regard, not your own interests, but the other per-son's" (I Co 10:24). There are religious who worry too much about what others are saying or doing. And there are religious who speak and act without regard for the sufferings they may be causing others. After all, what good will our theology or our achievement of practical freedom do us ifthey are done without love? 1.4. Personal Ministries. In the past, congregations with the most priests prac-ticed two different types of ministries: one, institutional, in which the religious collaborated in a common work (schools, retreat houses, parishes), the other, personal (teaching in centers outside the institute, preaching, conferences, books). Lay communities of men or women were limited to working within their own institutions (hospitals, schools). In many women's communities and in some brothers' institutes, there is now a trend favoring personal ministries: counseling, spiritual direction and giving conferences. This has fundamentally modified the type of community life led in these institutes. We read also, for example, that the Franciscan Province of Santa Barbara has adopted, as a criterion of priority in assignments to ministries, the talents and availability of individual members, rather than the needs of existing institutions.13 This trend can be noted with lesser force in institutes that have a greater number of institutions (schools, parishes, hospitals). 1.5. Emphasis on Local Community. Partly because of this affirmation of the centrality of the person in societies and institutions, and partly because of the current stress on the Church as a communion that is realized above all in the local church, greater importance is being attached to the local religious com-munity. Many constitutions have changed the vertical presentation of their governmental structures from the once-common descending order (general government, provinces, local communities) to an ascending order (local, pro-vincial, general),~4 while even more constitutions affirm the primary value of the local community. In contrast with the mainly disciplinary content of former texts, the new ones bring out the theological and ecclesial meaning of the local community as a community of faith, worship and mission, and as the privileged locus of Christian communion.~5 1.6. Small Communities. Starting very soon after the Council, there was a growing emphasis on a trend that had already appeared in religious institutes founded a few decades earlier: the formation of small local communities with a family-like structure. Large communities that staffed various institutions (schools or parishes), or were at the service of some large institution (a univer-sity), began dividing up into small groups. Many factors motivated this shift: a Trends in Religious Life / 4117 desire to establish closer interpersonal relationships, an attempt to lessen the difficulties inherent in large-group interaction, a tendency to live closer to the people, and an endeavor to free the group from quasi-monastic structures. Paul VI dealt with this trend in his apostolic exhortation, Evangelica Testif!- catio,~6 noting that this type of community makes greater demands of its members. For one thing, in this setting the individual constantly emerges in face-to-face relationships that strongly reveal his or her good points and short-comings. Small communities demand better communication, greater respect for individual differences, and a more thoroughgoing effort to adapt oneself to others. In large communities it is easier to avoid communication and, above all, confrontation with certain community members. Interestingly enough, it is not just older persons accustomed to a more institutionalized type of life, but also younger religious less inclined to intimate communication, who prefer to live in larger groups. 1.7. Authority and Obedience. The Second Vatican Council, in its decree Perfectae Caritatis,17 clearly established principles for a deep renewal of the practice of authority and obedience as we had heretofore known it. Doubtless, the concepts expressed in this decree belong to the tradition of the religious life in its richest moments. Nevertheless, the emphasis on certain aspects of this tradition, such as "active collaboration," the service rendered by the commu-nity leader, the recommendation that the leader respect his or her fellow religious as sons or daughters of God and as human persons, the insistence on dialogue as an integral part of the unifying process of obedience (and not just as a last resort in facing difficult decisions)--all of these paved the way for a theological and practical reinterpretation of the leader's role, and of the nature of common obedience.~8 Even those institutes that have not modified their vertical structures of government have had to reread their constitutions with a new sensitivity.~9 The Council stated that the manner of governing religious institutes had to be examined and brought into harmony with the physical and psychological conditions of today's religious, with the needs of the apostolate, with cultural requirements, and with socioeconomic realities.20 The great majority of the revised constitutions of institutes founded in an age when another image of authority prevailed, have modified their systems of govern-ment by introducing dialogue prior to decision making, or have even left certain decisions to the group itself. Some constitutions have made the group the ordinary decision-making body in matters important to the local commu-nity. In Practice, there has also been a tendency to allow a wide margin for individual decisions and initiatives in matters that do not touch upon the life of the group. 2. The Emancipation of Women Closely related to the preceding theme (the value of the person as such), another trend has had a growing impact on religious life: the progressive 41111 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1983 emergence of the religious woman, and her assumption of a public mission in the Church and in civil society. We are touching here on a painful topic: the struggle of women (and the Holy Spirit with them) to liberate themselves from a situation of confinement and subordination. No need to go into the details of Mary Ward's way of the cross, or the fate of the Ursulines after the death of Angela Merici, or the changes forced upon the Order of the Visitation, or the tremendous difficulties that Louise de Marillac and her Daughters of Charity had to face. As late as the 19th century, especially in France, every women's institute was forced to have a male ecclesiastical superior with powers equal and sometimes superior to those of the mother general. Some institutes were arbitrarily divided, and some foundresses were practically expelled from their own communities (Clara Pfaender, Bonifacia Rodriguez, Maria Rosa Zangara), or deposed (Jeanne de Lestonnac, Alix Le Clercq, Alfonsa Cavin, Rafaela of the Sacred Heart). Fortunately, circumstances have changed radi-cally and will continue to do so, as we shall see. 2.1. Emancipation. A large number of religious women are more or less fully committed to the feminist movement, and still more are deeply affected by it.2~ In the past every religious woman, upon reaching maturity, had to bring her femininity to bear on her milieu so to speak implicitly, by letting it shine through in her life and work (think of Teresa's influence on her theologian friends, or the changes Jeanne de Chantal brought about in Francois de Sales). Nowadays, however, the condition of women is explicitly posited and vindi-cated. In affirming their identity, religious women are bringing a new dimen-sion into spirituality and religious life in general: the feminine perspective?2 They not only are setting up a feminine symbology to counterbalance the overstated male symbology of religion (a function always at work in women like Clare of Assisi, Catherine of Siena, Teresa of Jesus and Margaret Mary Alacoque), but are also discovering the feminine aspects of God (something rarely done in the past, although one can always point to the example of Dame Julian of Norwich). The arrival of large numbers of women in the once segregated halls of theology is bound to give rise to deep changes in the task of interpreting the experience of God. The theology of the religious life will surely have to take much more serious note of this phenomenon. 2.2. The Revision of Constitutions. Today, religious women are revising their own constitutions, sometimes with the help of outside experts, both men and women. We are getting farther and farther away from the days when men could write rules for women (Pachomius, perhaps Augustine, Caesarius of Arles, Leander), or when women had to adopt and adapt rules written for men's communities (Benedictines). There is an exquisitely feminine style and sensibility in not a few of the new constitutions. 2.3. Personal Ministries. With growing frequency, women are taking on per-sonal ministries not connected with their own institutions. They are teaching in outside centers, writing books, doing spiritual direction, directing retreats and Trends in Religious Life / 489 spiritual exercises, counseling, ministering in parishes, and so forth. Their influence is beginning to be strongly felt in male formation communities, by the balance they bring to young men who receive their information in an otherwise strictly masculine environment. This gives these men a more positive and educative,perception of the feminine image. 2.4. The First Apostolic Community. In our judgment, the women religious of North America have built the first fully apostolic feminine community in history. Many of them live in small groups not bound to institutions, and are dedicated to personal ministries. While men religious are frequently tied down to an ecclesiastical institution (parish, college), women religious, by the very fact of being non-ordained ministers, enjoy a greater freedom of movement. 2.5. Economic Dependence. This freedom is very relative, however, because many women religious are faced with the anguishing problem of economic dependence. Adding to the painfulness of this situation is the fact that the work they do is usually underpaid. Moreover, those women who do not have their own institutions must either depend on other institutions, or else become free-lancers at the mercy of fortune. A few.years ago, one mother general told me that her institute was unable to implement an option for the poor and the marginated because they depended for their sustenance on the salaries they received from the diocese, which did not allow enough for it. 3. Life Over Institutions Another clearly perceptible trend in today's religious life seems to be a distinct prevalence of a concept and an experience of a life lived simply, freely and creatively, over against more institutional forms of living. Significantly, the first schema on religious life submitted to the Second Vatican Council was overloaded with canonical-institutional vocabulary, reflected in its title: status religiosus--the religious state. It had obviously been drafted by.a group of conservative canonists and theologians. When this text was brought to the floor for discussion, the Council gave it h change of direction and chose to speak of the religious life, understood not as a sort of entity that could be classified and regulated, but as a life that is really lived. This trend is more apparent in Perfectae Caritatis (October, 1965) than in Chapter IV of Lumen Gentium (November, 1964~). But even in Lumen Gentium, the basis stated for both the religious state and form of life are the charisms of the Spirit,23 and the movement leading a Christian to consecrate his or her life to the service of God is described in similar terms.24 Perfectae Caritatis describes various con-crete aspects of this life which must be renewed and adapted to conditions as they really exist. This has been a recurring trend throughout history, especially during peri-ods of creativity. Basil and Macrina created fraternal groups, free of the unwieldiness of the Pachomian institutions that had formed in Egypt. Francis of Assisi was very traditional in his concept of the religious life ("to live 490 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1983 according to the Gospel"), yet he launched a project of profound renewal by distancing himself from existing monastic institutions. The Dominicans origi-nally followed this same trend. The first Jesuits and the Daughters of Charity, each in their own way, were simply Christian companions committed to serv-ice. A few decades ago, the Little Brothers and Sisters of Jesus returned to this simplicity, to a lived life and to creativity. The phenomenon we have been describing is now appearing under various forms. 3.1. The Fall of Structure. In most communities many structures have disap-peared. The 19th century left us a legacy of methods and detailed regulations for prayer, for the organization of our day, for work, etc. In Europe,.a number of founders went so far as to include a basic menu in their constitutions. As the monks of Solesmes had striven to unify liturgical rubrics against a welter of national liturgies, religious superiors strove to unify religious life with regula-tions and timetables. In today's ~onstitutions and community discussions, the emphasis is on the quality of life. Religious are concerned about the extent to which their real life constitutes a witness, now that neither uniform habits nor characteristic buildings nor special timetables distinguish them from the rest of the citizenry. Religious tend to "value more the influence of their life attitudes and personal witness than they do the impact of service to an institution.'~5 To put it another way, there is a sort of diffuse Franciscanism in our times, representing a desire to connect with the original and fundamental sense of the religious life: a life-style that is significant in itself. 3.2. Prayer. This same trend can be felt in the prayer life of religious. In the not-too-distant past, communities imposed numerous acts of community prayer, many of them devotional in character. Even personal meditation and spiritual reading were made into community acts. Some quite detailed methods of meditation were very popular. Apostolic communities have largely done away with these numerous community acts and have returned mental prayer to the responsibility and initiative of the individual. Initially, more than a few religious felt left in the lurch by all of this, so that one often heard the complaint, "We aren't praying anymore!" Others, on the contrary, looked upon the new approach as a license to improvise, and began to forget the lessons of the spiritual masters, lessons that were themselves the fruit of pro-longed experience. We believe that this situation has been largely corrected. Left in greater liberty, religious themselves have had to face up to their respon-sibility. But even here, some exaggerations exist. One sometimes gets the impression that some people regard prayer as a strictly private responsibility, despite the fact that constitutions clearly represent it as an essential life-trait for all members of the institute. Our prayer-life is a commitment we make to the community, and other members of the community have every right to be concerned when we give the impression that we are failing in prayer. 3.3. A New Understanding of Law. Another commonly observable trend is the new way in which the revised constitutions and rules of life are presented. A Trends in Religious Life / 491 little background may clarify this trend. In many texts submitted to the Holy See by 19th-century founders and foundresses, there was an overload of asceti-cal exhortations and a dearth of canonical structures. In reaction to this, the Roman Curia, around the turn of the century, issued its Normae secundum quas, excluding all these ascetical passages and adding the necessary structural sections.26 This had the unfortunate effect of reducing most constitutions to the bare bones of a canonical and disciplinary text, containing an abundance of precise norms on how to do things, on the practice of mortification, and on rules for cloister and silence. We were left with a code of precepts. In the new constitutions and rules of life, few norms remain, and those that do are canon-ical, almost to the exclusion of those of a purely disciplinary nature. In con-trast, these new texts give us a description of the vocation and spirit of the religious who belong to each institute. We have passed, so to speak, from a "decalogue" code of observances to a "beatitudes" rule of life; from a minimum we must observe, to a maximum toward which we must strive. Instead of observance, we now tend to speak of growing fidelity. Saint Thomas observed long ago that the twofold gospel precept of love (with all one's heart) is not something we fulfill here and now in an instant, but is rather a goal toward which we must constantly strive and tend. This is the evangelical vision to which the new rules of life invite us. Hence, for all their dearth of precepts, these new rules are on the whole more demanding. 3.4. Individual and Community Discernment. The greater freedom allotted to individuals and to local communities, the reinterpretation of the fundamental law as a description of vocation and spirit, and the relative absence of discipli-nary norms have all placed a greater burden of responsibility on local com-munities and their members. Local communities must frequently assume the role of discerning what is here and now God's salvific will for the group and its members. In this respect, the 32nd General Congregation of the Society of Jesus has set a good example for us all. Speaking of the mission of the Jesuits today, the Congregation stated: "We must undertake a thoroughgoing assess-ment of our traditional apostolic methods, attitudes and institutions with a view to adapting them to the new needs of the times and to a world of rapid change. All this demands that we practice discernment, that spiritual discern-ment which Saint Ignatius teaches us in the Exercises. Moreover, discerning will yield a deeper grasp of the movements, aspirations and struggles in the hearts of our contemporaries."27 A little later, the decree restates the same idea: "What is required is not so much a research program as a process of reflection and evaluation inspired by the Ignatian tradition of spiritual discernment."~s The Ignatian practice of spiritual discernment, once largely restricted to circles of the Society of Jesus, has now become generalized to the point that it is present in all schools of spirituality. Recent bibliography abundantly bears out this development,~9 and we should all be glad of it. 3.5. A Blurred Image of Church. As we round out this section, we can hardly 492 Review for Religious, July-August, 1983 avoid mentioning one painful fact: the disinterest or distaste that some reli-gious feel toward the ecclesiastical institution. Francis of Assisi, who was called to rebuild God's tottering house, was distinguished from other leaders of poverty movements in his day by his fidelity to the Church's leaders.3° Saint Ignatius Loyola, another great religious reformer, recommended that we "feel with the hierarchical Church.TM Today, although most religious are strongly attracted to the Church as communion and mystery, a number of them tend to experience the Church institution as something alienating. The fact is that the image of the Church projected by Leo XIII, Pius X1 and Pius XI1 has largely disappeared, and new images are struggling to emerge. There is a significant amount of writing on various "models of the Church."32 We all know that institutions, in this earthly phase of things, are as necessary for the Church's presence and action as the body is for the self's. We must of course take care of the body and control it, since here, too, an overly heavy body can impede the action of the individual spirit. 4. Ministerial Openness to the World Another group of factors that seems to constitute a characteristic trend in today's religious life is the positive reevaluation of the world and of the reli-gious life as service to the Church and the world.33 Isaac Hecker introduced a typically American sensibility into spirituality by underscoring the positive character of the encounter of grace with our humanity, and by consistently speaking of this encounter in positive terms.3a The classic synthesis of Thomas Aquinas began to reappear with new accents. In the United States today, there are many spiritualities which evaluate the created world positively, and asso-ciate spiritual progress with overall progress (holiness/wholeness). In Europe, Louvain accustomed us to a theology of earthly values.35 In France, where great stress had always been laid on the Incarnation, a high value was placed on Christian presence among the masses (the priest-worker movement). Vati-can II, above all in Gaudium et Spes, gave us a realistic vision of the world that was rich in positive traits. John XXIII's Pacem in Terris decidedly opted for democratic social values. All of this has had its impact on the life of the Church. Secular Institutes are precisely secular institutions that aim at enliven-ing the human and civil "world" from within. The charisms of the religious life are now spoken of, not as gifts to help us flee from the world, but rather as gifts that enable us to penetrate the world more deeply, in order to transcend it. We no longer speak of afuga mundi, but rather of a penetration of the world, in order to induce it to return to its Creator, and transcend itself. Thomas Merton personified this "return to the world" movement in almost paradigmatic fashion. His early works, written at a time when he regarded the Abbey of Gethsemani as "the only real city in America,"36 reflect the critical reactions of a convert, as well as a somewhat elitist monastic theology. In Seeds of Contemplation (1949), the theme of a holy person's positive outlook on the world alternates with a negative view of the secular city from which the Trends in Religious Life / 493 Christian must strive to escape.37 In The Inner Experience (1959), his attitude toward contemplatives is more realistic, and the possibility of a lived expe-rience of God in the world emerges more clearly,as One can notice an effort to situate contemplation in the living context of everyday life. Contemplation means an indepth look at reality not in order to evade it, but in order to transcend it;39 it supposes a reading of events.4° The new chapter, "Solitude is Not Separation," added to New Seeds of Contemplation,4~ reveals at last a total contemplative openness to the world. Thomas Merton would soon become a prophet of peace and justice. The contemplative--as Teresa of Jesus had experienced long before Merton--is someone who brings the world, its agonies and its ecstasies, before God.42 This phenomenon has occurred frequently in the course 0~" history. We might, in fact, speak of a phasic alternation between periods of Incarnation and periods of Transcendence, although we should add that each swing toward the Incarnational pole has left us definitively closer to the world. The 12th century witnessed a cultural rebirth in which "nature" began to lose its sacral, symbolic value and gained some measure of autonomy.43 The married laity ceased being referred to as "children and weaklings who simply cannot embrace celibacy" (an oft-repeated phrase in earlier ecclesiastical texts),4~ and were instead spoken of as persons who profess the "common rule," that is, the Gospel. The Third Orders of the 13th century owe their existence, in part, to this change of mentality. In an early Franciscan legend, Madonna Povert~ (Lady Poverty) asks a group of Friars to show her their cloister. They lead her to the top of a high hill and show her the whole world, telling her: "This, Lady, is our cloister.-45 Then came what we generally call "the Renaissance," and we fell in love with the philosophers, writers and heroes of the Greco-Roman world. A positive and overly innocent view of the world infiltrated our con-sciousness. Jesuits made their residence in the midst of cities. More than a few institutes of the time chose not to take vows (Oratorians and Eudists). The Daughters of Charity dispers+d through the streets in peasant garb; for them, the world was the space in which the sons and daughters of God were suffer-ing. But there was also Luther's teaching on our "corrupted nature," and Bishop Jansenius and the Port Royalists held the dark view that every human value not explicitly elevated by a supernatural intention is simply sinful. Jansenism, with its excessive moral demands, had a baneful influence on the spirituality of religious. Finally, the trauma of the French and socialist revolu-tions filled religious leaders with fears and misapprehensions, so that they tended to stress the deep incompatibility between the Church and modern society. We were in urgent need of a return to the world. 4.1. A More Positive Vision of the World. For religious, too, the world is the ager dominicus, the Lord's field. It is the creation wounded by our sins, yet fundamentally good; the place where we must live our faith, hope and love, and in which we must work and suffer. This more positive, yet realistic vision of the world has positive consequences and gives rise to its own problematic. 494 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1983 The distance between the religious and secular worlds has been shortened. The barriers of habits, special buildings and institutions filled with religious sym-bols, have largely fallen. This explains a number of recent developments. In the past, new forms of religious life inexorably fell under the influence of forms that had a longer and more prestigious history: Pachomians and Basilians became monks; canons regular and mendicants adopted a monastic or quasi-monastic way of life; apostolic congregations of women imitated cloistered nuns, etc. In our times, the trend seems to be running in the opposite direction: the traditional forms of religious life are getting closer to the life-style of secular institutes. We are referring here not merely to the absence of habits or the irrelevance of details that were once considered very important in Europe (such as not being allowed to enter a movie-picture theater), but to such truly important items as the near absence of community life or its reduction to a minimum, and to the growing trend toward working in secular institutions. The fact remains, however, that religious life, precisely because its witness is aimed at helping the world transcend itself, must not only incarnate itself in secular culture, but also act as a counterculture.46 Religious life accomplishes this essentially by actualizing the charisms that distinguish it as a form of Christian life: celibacy and community, with a public witness of poverty. Note that we say celibacy, not bachelorhood or the single state, since celibacy is understood as an exclusive commitment to the concerns of the Lord, and as a life lived for the love of the Lord. And this is extremely demanding. So also is the radical self-divestment which characterizes the Christian poverty of a reli-gious: a self-divestment that makes no sense at all except as an act of solidarity with the poor and the outcast. All of this must be reflected in our life-style, attitudes and options. 4.2. An Open Community. Our communities have opened up. The practice of hospitality has been greatly enlarged. Religious are praying and working with groups outside the community proper, thus creating a network of relation-ships. Many of us belong to prayer groups (charismatic or otherwise) or to pastoral teams.47 Monastery guesthouses, especially in the United States, are usually filled with other religious and laypersons who come there to pray. Some contemplative monasteries have opened up to share their prayer life with others on a more permanent basis. The Trappists of Our Lady of Guadalupe have established a Center for Contemplative Studies. The Carmel of the Resurrection in Indianapolis has opened its prayer life to a group of the faithful who pray there. Many small apostolic communities practice an aposto-late of presence by living among the poor. This is something that the mendi-cants strove to do in the 13th century, and which the Little Brothers and Sisters of Jesus reintroduced some decades ago. Obviously, such groups have to manage the difficult task of balancing their openness toward the rest of the Church with the special communion of charism and spirit they must keep among their own members. Trends in Religious Life / 495 4.3. Celibacy and Friendship. One effect of this more optimistic vision of the world and of the human person in the world has been the rediscovery of the positive and fully human vision of celibacy expressed in the New Testament. Although Jesus, in his logion about eunuchs (Mt 19:12), was defending a spiritual impotence caused by a strong commitment to the Kingdom, Paul tells us, .in a positive way, that being celibate for the sake of the Gospel consists in living lives exclusively dedicated to the concerns of the risen Lord (his Church, his poor), and for his love (1 Co 7:32-34). Celibacy is both a commitment and a relationship of love in which we can grow, and not simply a state defined by non-bonding to another person in matrimony,as The focus of today's religious has shifted, significantly, from chastity to celibacy as a way of life. From yet another point of view, the modern notion of the human being has highlighted (sometimes excessively) our sexual condition. Sexuality is rightly understood as a positive reality,49 in which affective balance plays an important part. Thus conceived, sexuality is being incorporated into a positive and inclusive vision of celibacy. It might be noted, in passing, that religious, like others in this rich culture which is concerned with overeating, also engage in sports and look after their body and physical appearance. But it must be admitted ihat the fall of barriers in this context (locked doors, permissions to go out, opened mail, the habit, etc.) also eliminated a series of social pressures aimed at protecting celibacy. Just as the permanence of marriages is now left to married couples themselves (since urban and indus-trialized society, unlike rural societies of the past, undermines rather than upholds the stability of marriage), so celibacy is left to the grace of God and the responsibility of the individual. The community can offer little help to those in crisis, except prayer and friendship. A positive evaluation of friend-ship has important consequences in this area. The husband-wife relationship is beginning to pale as the only model for male-female relationships. Friendships between religious and persons of the opposite sex (whether priests, religious or laity) are now more feasible and frequentP° This is, of course, not something completely new: a good number of saints, especially founders and foundresses, seem to have come in pairs. But now there is a greater awareness of the implications and values of friendship as a help toward celibate balance, which it indeed can be. But this is still fragile ground, because of the possibility of being "carried away," and because the word "friendship" often covers a number of relationships of diverse intensityPI The celibate is committed to live exclusively for the concerns of the Lord and for his love, and this rules out not just physical relationships, but also exclusive affective commitments. This means that certain affecfive needs of the celibate cannot be satisfied directly, but must be diverted into channels of loving service. 4.4. The Poor: the New "Desert. ,~2 Religious feel a lively interest and concern for the world of which they are part. This is quite apparent in questions of justice. In a host of ways, religious have been associated with works of charity 498 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1983 throughout history. But today there is a clearer consciousness that not a few evils have social roots, and that religious in a democratic society have a great opportunity to work collectively and individually in defense of the weak and the oppressed. Most of us (even religious dedicated to social works) inherited a vision of poverty that did not have much of an express or lived relationship to the poor of the world. It was a poverty fit for a neoplatonic or neopythagorean community: a poverty understood as a form of personal purification and as a means for arriving more readily at contemplation. The important thing was dependence on the superior, and great individual austerity. On an analogy with the Synoptic saying of Jesus, "Sell what you have and give to the poor" (Mk 10:21 and par.), one might say that the monks of the desert, who worked hard to support the poor, fulfilled the second part of the saying ("and give to the poor"), whereas later religious stressed the first part ("sell what you have"). In Evangelica Testificatio, Paul V1 brought the Church's teaching on religious poverty back to its origins by beginning the section on poverty with a call to hear "the cry of the poor.'~3 If all Christian poverty is a descent with Christ into the hell of human suffering--a participation in his kenosis (cf. 2 Co 8:9)54--then the testimonial poverty of religious should signal an abandonment of the world's logic and a crossing over its borders into the new desert which, especially in today's materialistic society, is constituted by the poor. A number of religious have abandoned their houses in middle-class neigh-borhoods and have gone to live with the poor in ghettoes. Whole institutes have declared in their chapters a preferential option for evangelizing the poor. Religious men and women have joined other Christians in their struggle for the liberation of the poor, especially in Latin America and the Philippines. In the United States, some religious have run for national or state office in defense of minorities, while others have been appointed to posts of particular social significance. Many U.S. religious are committed to a variety of social causes: disarmament, human rights in the Third World, the fights of the unborn, the rights of homosexuals, ecology, the struggle against a capitalism that would sacrifice human lives for economic gain (the Nestle boycott), and so forth. Here again, there are problems and difficulties. For one thing, it is easier for those living in well-to-do environments to protest abuses (as they must) than it is to protect themselves against the contagion of a consumerist society. Those who are truly and deeply committed to the defense of the poor know that they can carry out their work only by becoming poor themselves. Our poverty is also a protest against a materialistic interpretation of life, and hence must be manifested in personal and collective simplicity and austerity. Those who personally commit themselves to poverty run the risk of mere improvisa-tion, or of being manipulated by others. One thinks of the way certain reac-tionary thinkers have tried to use Mother Teresa of Calcutta, proposing her as an example of what all religious should be doing--which they interpret as "athering up the dying from the sidewalks (which is undoubtedly a heroically ~eautiful act of Christian love), and then leaving the world to the powers that Trends in Religious L~fe / 497 be (which would undoubtedly be an act of unChristian cowardice, since the one behind the "powers that be" is often Satan, the first murderer). Manipulation, though, is also practiced from a revolutionary viewpoint. There is a danger of becoming involved in partisan politics that pursue a determined type of society. The religious and the Christian as such do not have a distinctive political model, but only a set of fundamental principles (Pacem in Terris), according to which they raise their voice in protest against all forms that oppress and manipulate the sons and daughters of God. Great maturity is requi~ed for a commitment of this kind. One must be prepared to lose one's life: witness the example of our martyrs in Central America. 4.5. Serving in a Secular Milieu. With growing frequency, religious men and Women are making a commitment in various types of human service that are not specifically religious in nature, and are performed in a secular environ-ment. We are r~ferring here mainly to those religious who are engaged in the investigation and teaching of profane disciplines. Religious have been doing this for centuries, of course, but as an integral part of a ministry of Christian edui:ation that was meafit to culmin~ite in catechesis. Now, we encounter a new element in that these services are being carried on in the heart of secular centers. The impact of this environment and the great demand for professional preparation it calls for can profoundly affect the spirit of a religious. This is perhaps most true of religious who practice psychotherapy in its various forms. Here,/he "secular environment" is internal. The religious has to operate with a series Of symbols, vocabularies and techniques in which religious experience is often treated either in the Context of psychological aberration, or else (as with .lung) in that of a psychic activity that neither includes nor excludes grace. Helping one's neighbors in their psychological problems, or contributing to their overall growth as persons, is just as religious an activity as helping cure their bodies, but it can create difficulties for religious therapists. Oftentimes they are living in an environment quite different from a traditional religious community, which was pervaded by religious symbols and community acts. In such cases, religious will often have to struggle in order to integrate their professional service into the framework Of their community's proper spiritual-ity. Service also tends to change meaning for religious who work as medical or nursing personnel in modern hospitals, with their intense activity and the difficulties they present for establishing personal relationships with the sick, since there are so many to attend, and the turnover is so rapid. 5. Religious Life Reinterpreted 5.1. A More Profound Notion of the Religious Ltfe. The Second Vatican Council, by setting its teaching on the religious life squarely in the context of the life of the Church and of the universal call to holiness, forced theologians to rethink this particular vocation. A significant index of this rethinking is reflected in a change in the bibliography on the religious life. During the first half of this century, it focused on canon law and ascetical conferences or 49~1 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1983 retreats for religious; from the Council onwards, bibliographical entries of a theological character began to multiply. New Testament exegesis began to put question marks after the texts on which some founders had based their move-ments. Often enough, disturbingly, exegetes answered these questions in the negative: "This is not what these biblical texts were saying." Moreover, the full incorporation of the secular laity into the life and holiness of the Church obliged us to rethink the relationship that exists between the call to the reli-gious life and the general call to perfection, as well as that which exists between religious life and secular life. In more than one case, the Council had felt obliged to use categories drawn from Scholasticism, in a clear effort at expanding its teaching. Concomitantly, however, scholars were at work compiling critical studies of the sources of the religious life (Pachomius, Basil, Augustine, the anonymous author of the Regula MagistrL Benedict, Francis, early Jesuit texts, etc.). These historical investigations have given us a much better knowledge of the development of the religious life. The works of Tillard, Boff, Sebastian, Moloney and others, as well as the publications of the Religious Life Institutes in Rome and Madrid, and those of the Claret Center for Resources in Spirituality (to all three of Which I have made my personal contribution), are developing a work of synthesis that has become necessary. 5.2. Religious Life: a Parable of Discipleship. In Lumen Gentium and Perfec-tae Caritatis, the Second Vatican Council abandoned the notion of "state of perfection," which had somehow crept into Sacrosanctum Concilium (the Constitution on the Liturgy), written in the period before the council began to reflect expressly on the religious life.55 All Christians are committed to growth in the perfection to which they are called in baptism, confirmation, the Eucha-rist and reconciliation, and (for some) eventually in matrimony. The religious life is no longer to be thought of as the only state in which one professes to be tending toward perfection. In Discipleship: Towards an Understanding of the Religious Life, I tried to demonstrate how religious life is a form of disciple-ship, and that the significance of the religious life consists in its being a living parable of the Gospel for all. As a form of life, the religious life is summoned to remind all Christ's disciples of the demand to follow him. It is a type of prophetic life, neither more nor less. This leaves room for secular Christians to achieve the full stature of their incorporation into evangelical spirituality. For the important thing is not the parable, but the lived life of the Christian way, to which the parable points. 5.3. Return to Charism. Another important aspect of contemporary religious life is the fact that, thanks mainly to the invitation of Perfectae Caritatis, religious institutes, especially in their chapters of renewal, have set about reflecting on their own charisms. These institutes now seem to have a far better knowledge of their vocation and spirit in the Church. The Church itself is enriched by this variety of charisms. The popes have frequently referred to this Trends in Religious L~fe / 499 theme in discussing the identity of religious families. 5.4. Turning Toward Others. Nevertheless, something new is happening. A few years back, religious institutes often gave the impression of being overly exclu-sive in promoting their own interests. There was too much insistence on "our own." Today, religious communities collaborate with one another in common novitiate programs. There are theologates (the Central Theological Union in Chicago and the General Theological Union in Berkeley are obvious exam-ples) in which students from various institutes study, pray together and inter-relate in many ways, thus mutually enriching one another without losing their identity. And there are numerous religious institutes collaborating in apostolic works, both with one another and with lay team members. The sense of belonging to the one Church of Christ is thus manifested in a forceful manner. 6. Lifelong Commitment One aspect which involves considerable suffering for many religious, and which is brought up with some frequency in public meetings and private conversations, is the meaningfulness of a perpetual commitment to the reli-gious life, and even the legitimacy of norms that impose this sort of commit-ment toward the end of one's initiation or formation. Obviously, the discussion of this theme is less related to the influence of any specific philosophy than it is to the fact that our society seems to be much more sensitive to change than to continuity. In our society, for several different reasons, it is not rare for persons to change careers at a certain age. Even marriage seems to be becom-ing more fragile.~6 6. I. A Personal Commitment. In contradistinction to a one-time or short-term commitment to do some thing, a commitment to a type of life is a personal project that requires a certain amount of time to make. Human beings develop gradually. A promise or decision to be celibate or to live for the love of someone else for just a fewdays or weeks would really be tantamount to a commitment to do some thing, rather than a life decision to be a determined type of man or woman. The commitment to love is, of its very nature, indefi-nite as to time. It tends to be projected over a whole lifetime. The fact is that, when a human being loves or chooses to give himself or herself on a deep level, he or she cannot include the idea of a temporal limit in such a choice (although there may be an implicit recognition of the possibility of failure), since this would be restricting one's love or self-gift. By making a commitment of one-self, a person aims at putting his or her love above time and its changes. 6.2. A Commitment to God. A commitment to the religious life entails a commitment to build one's life with an orientation toward certain religious ideals: living in a particular way, in celibacy and in community. Here, the depth of human commitment is at its greatest, since it is gauged by a relation-ship with God. In this case, understandably, our intention must exclude every temporal limit, even when we are making a temporal commitment. We want 5lll~ / Review for Religious, July-August, 1983 to be this type of Christian and human being on the deepest level, before God and in the Church. This is a quite different kind of commitment than that made by a person who would simply like to be associated with the life, spirituality and ministry of a religious community for a set period of time. One thinks, for example, of the existing practice in Thailand whereby all boys, as a sort of analogue of military service, must spend several months in a Buddhist monastery. This sort of procedure might well be adopted, in a more systematic way, for certain types of associates of Christian religious communities. But this kind of temporal commitment, even when made on a more conscious and voluntary basis, would never suffice to constitute the person making it a religious. Our temporal vows are truly vows, to the extent that the person making them has the intention of orienting his or her whole life in this manner. 6.3. A Statement of Commitment. The real problem here refers to the public formulation of this intention to make a perpetual commitment. To express ourselves publicly and socially is an essential trait of our human nature, which never exists in a vacuum of pure interiority, but tends to unfold itself in explicit relationship with others. We already made our perpetual commitment when we responded to our vocation, before entering a community. We made it with a certain tension, with some misgivings, and sometimes even with anguish; yet we entrusted our weakness to the grace of the God who called us. On profess-ing, we renewed this response to God, but this time we did so publicly, before God and through the community, we committed ourselves to God through this community. Our commitment, then, took on an ecclesial character. This was normal and as it should be because promising to be celibate, to live in evangelical poverty and in community is not just an act that relates us directly to God. Rather, it is an act that relates us to God in his Church. Celibacy is not just the love of God, but also a great love of his sons and daughters. This does not rule out our foreseeing possible failures, or even the hypo-thetical possibility that certain experiences and circumstances might make us change. This commitment is made by human persons, with the understanding that they are expressing their actual intention, in the hope that this intention will perdure. But since fidelity in this matter is the work of grace, we place all our forces in God's hands. A religious vow or promise is at once a manifesta-tion of our intention and a petition for grace: "This is what I intend to be, so help me God." The person who makes a vow can change, can fail, or can discover that this was not to be his or her permanent vocation. There are canonized saints who, after years of profession, left their communities when they discovered that God was calling them along another way. For all these reasons, the Church wisely grants dispensations from these commitments. A dispensation dissolves the canonical aspects of one's commitment, leaving the person with his or her responsibility before God intact. Upon receiving their dispensations, these Christians remain in God's presence, just as they did at the time they believed Trends in Religious Life they had received a call from God and answered it. 7. A Prophetic Minority? The aerial photograph we promised at the beginning of this survey is not yet complete. We still need to include in it one of the most visibly preoccupying concerns for many religious and for the Church's ministers: the scarcity of vocations to the religious life which we are presently experiencing. There is no need for us to go into statistical details. All we have to do is to look at the inexorably upward trend in the median age of the members of most religious communities in the northern hemisphere. We can only suppose that what we are looking at is precisely a lack of vocations (God is calling fewer men and women to the religious life), and not a lack of correspondence to a wider call. We must suppose this, both because we do not have access to the heavenly archives, and because we find it hard to believe that human beings are cur-rently putting up a greater resistance to grace than they did in the days when our houses were filled to the rafters. One fact confirms us in our rejection of an unduly pessimistic view of the present generation: the growing number of vocations to the ministry outside the clergy and outside religious institutes. People continue to cite a whole litany of causes in order to explain the current dearth of candidates for the religious life: economic reasons (greater opportunities exist elsewhere today); social reasons (secularized environment, lowered prestige of the religious state, easier relations among young people of both sexes, sexual liberation, smaller families of the "one girl-one boy" type); psychological reasons (the identity crisis of religious makes religious life less attractive; pessimism or a lost sense of belonging leads religious to work less at promoting vocations); theological reasons (the religious life is not the only state for attaining Christian perfection). We would not like to indulge in a discussion of the many reasons alleged to explain this phenomenon. We would, however, like t.o point out that we are not talking about a scarcity of persons who want to enter a religious community, but about the considerably smaller number of persons who show clear signs of having a true vocation to the religious life. All you have to do is run a few ads in the right publications, and you will soon be swarming with requests. Some of these aspirants very soon reveal data that indicate their unfitness for the religious life. A few more serious cases must be rejected somewhat later, either after psychological testing or afte~ a few days of shared life. Present-day religious life requires stronger and more balanced personalities than was the case in the past. Formerly, less well-balanced personalities could be kept in line by a tougher practice of authority and by the more disciplinary type of community that then prevailed. Permit me to make a few observations. Until two or three decades ago, becoming a priest or a religious was the only route that enabled a Christian to consecrate his or her life to ministry in the Church. Of course, there were many Christians who were dedicated to charitable Works and catechesis on a part- 502 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1983 time basis. But if they wanted to orient their whole life to one of these minis-tries, they had no recourse but to become priests or religious. The need was even greater in the case of women, since they did not have a choice between secular priesthood and the religious life. Any woman who wanted to commit her life to a ministery of charity or catechesis, had to become a religious. The call to one was automatically interpreted as a call to the other. But today it is possible, though at times difficult, for a Christian to be committed to a minis-try without becoming a priest or a religious. In the past, every time a new form of religious life, better adapted to the conditions of the time, appeared, there tended to be a diminution of candidates for the forms that had prevailed up to that time. Before the 12th century, Europe had numerous monasteries; next, it witnessed the rise of whole armies of mendicants; at length, the mendicants had to share the scene with clerks regular. Also in Europe, until about the middle of the last century, there were cloistered convents in most middle-sized towns. But with the foundation of numerous apostolic congregations for women, the number of cloistered con-vents diminished considerably. Today, secular institutes and other associations of Christian life have appeared on the scene. Moreover, the Church has begun to open up its ministries to laypersons who have no connection with any institution. This must necessarily lead to a reduction in the number of candi-dates for the religious life. Hence, we should not be talking about a lack of vocations in an unquali-fied way, because the Spirit of the Lord is continuing to call Christians of all sorts to a whole gamut of commitments. We should joyfully accept the Spirit's will. It is quite possible--given our inveterate resistance in this respect--that the only way the secular laity will be able to take their rightful place in the Church's ministry will be through a considerable reduction in the number of priests and religious. Hard as some of us may find it to accept these persons on equal terms, despite their manifest charisms and responsibilities, the Spirit of the Lord may oblige us to accept them out of necessity. Does this mean that religious life in its traditional forms is destined in the future, even more than in the present and the past, to become a minority life-style? That is certainly a possibility, although we would not like to hazard such a prediction. Because history has passed through so many ups and downs, turns and returns, visions and revisions, it ill becomes a historian, who has a hard enough task sorting out the vagaries of the past, to presume to know the future. But if things did happen to turn out in the way we have hypothesized, there would be nothing to be surprised at. After all, we have described the religious life as a prophetic calling. And isn't a truly prophetic mission always and essentially a minority calling? Trends in Religious Life NOTES ~Thomas Dubay offers one answer in What is Religious ~fe? Questions Religious are Asking (Denville, N.J.: Dimension Books, 1979), pp. 32-34. See C. Maloney, "Evangelization and Social Change," Religious and the Evangelization of the World, Donum Dei Series, no. 21 (Ottawa: Publications of the Canadian Religious Conference, 1974), p. 63. See also B. Boyce, C.SS.R., "A Sociological Appraisal of the New Trends," New Trends in Religious L~fe, Donum Dei Series, no. 14 (1969), p. 135. 2Thaddre Matura, O.F.M., The Crisis of Religious l_zfe (Chicago: Franciscan Herald Press, 1974). 3Karl Rahner, S.J., "Toward a Fundamental Theological Interpretation of Vatican I1,~ Theologi-cal Studies 40 (1979), p. 717. 4John XXIII, Mater et Magistra, AAS 53 (1961), p. 417. Gaudium et Spes, no. 74, Vatican Council I!: The Conciliar and Post Conciliar Documents, ed. Austin Flannery (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 1975), p. 981. ~Constitutions S.J., ch. IV, 10, no. 5; Claretian Constitutions (1865), I, no. 31. sViatorians (1979), no. 52; de La Salle (1976), no. 140. I; Precious Blood Sisters, O'Fallon, p. 54; Combonians (1979), no. 103; Christian Brothers, (E. Rice), no. 247. 7Sisters of Charity of the Incarnate Word, no. 26; Marianists, Rule of l_zfe (1981), no. 39; Stigmatines (1977), no. 17. See especially Sisters of Mercy, Covenant, Fellowship and Total Growth, pp. F 4-5; Combonians, no. 42. 8This idea forms the background for the sections on the vows in many revised constitutions. 9St. Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologiae, 2-2, q. 184 a 3; q. 188 a 2; St. Bonaventure, Apologia Pauperum, ch. 3, no. 3. See Lumen Gentium, no. 44, Flannery, pp. 403-.404. ~0The theme of varidus personal gifts appears frequently in the new constitutions. See Sisters of St. Joseph, Core Constitutions, no. 38; Combonians, Rule of Life, nos. 38. I, 42; de La Salle (1976), p. 36; B.V.M., no. 3; Marists (1968), no. 51; Stigmatines (1977), no. 17; St. Joseph of Peace (1981), p. 6; Ursulines of Belleville (1982), no. 33; Sinsinawa Dominicans, no. 10. ~Cited in Paulist Provisional Constitutions (1970), no. 9. ~2Society of the Precious Blood, no. 39; Sisters of Mercy, Core Constitutions, p. 27; 31st Congre-gation of the Society of Jesus, Decree 17, no. 7 (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1977), p. 161. ~3Quentin Hakenewerth, S.M., ~lllustrations of Fundamental Choices and Their Consequences," Religious Life Tomorrow, Donum Dei Series, no. 24 (1978), p. 187. ~4Claretians, no. 102 ff.; Piarists, no. 131 ff.: Combonians, no. 105 ft.; School Sisters of Notre Dame, II, no. 8 ff.; Sisters of St. Joseph of Carondelet, no. 25 ft.; Society of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, no. 138 ff. ~Scalabrinians, no. 10; Society of Mary, no. 34 ff.; Society of the Precious Blood, no. 6 ft. 16No. 40, Flannery, pp. 698-699. 17No. 14, Flannery, pp. 619-620. ~SThe vocabulary of the revised constitutions on this theme, and the very horizons on which they move, reveal a new sensibility. When one compares them to the relevant sections in Petfectae Caritatis, one sees that the latter opened but a single door. A smaller number of constitutions chose to remain within the limits in which the conciliar decree moves. tgSee Jesuits, 31st General Congregation, Decree 17, pp. 157-166. z°Perfectae Caritatis, no. 3, Flannery, p. 613. 2~J. Doyle, B.V.M., "Choose Life," Religious Life Tomorrow, Donum Dei Series, no. 24 (1978), pp. 28-31. ~2See M. Linscott, "The Religious Woman in the Church,~ Way Supplement 19 (1973), pp. 45-62. 23No. 44, Flannery, pp. 402-403. ~lbid., pp. 403-405. Z~Hakenewerlh, art. cit., p. 186. 26"Normae secundum quas S. Congregatio Episcoporum et Regularium procedere solet in approbandis novis lnstitutis votorum simplicium." Published by Ladislaus Ravasi, C.P. in De Regulis et Constitutionibus Religiosorum (Roma: Desclee, 1958), pp. 188 ft. To be excluded 504 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1983 from the constitutions: quotations from the Holy Scriptures, Councils and Fathers. (n. 27), ascetic instructions, spiritual exhortations, mystical considerations (no. 33). 27Documents of the 31st and 32nd General Congregations of the Society of Jesus (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1979), Decree 4, nos. 58-59, p. 413. 2sPoid., no. 74, p. 436. ~9Scanning the bibliography on discernment during the last 15 years (published by the Religious Formation Conference), I have counted I I articles in REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, ! I in Way Sup-plement, 3 in Sisters Today, and 2 each in The Way and Spiritual Ltfe. 30Saint Francis of Assisi, Rule 1221, Foreword and Cho 19; Rule 1223, ch. I; ch. 9; Testament. See Writings and Early Biographies (Chicago: Franciscan Herald Press, 1973), pp. 3 I, 46, 57, 63, 67. 3~Saint Ignatius of Loyola, "To have the true sentiment which we ought to have in the Church Militant," Ist Rule. See David L. Fleming, The Spiritual Exercises (Saint Louis: The Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1978), p. 230. 32See Avery Dulles, S.J., Models of the Church (Garden City, NY, Doubleday, 1974). 33Cardinal Suenen's The Nun in the World (Westminster: The Newman Press, 1963), an invita-tion to the renewal of women's religious life issued during the Council, started with a chapter on the world, followed by a chapter on women and their emancipation. The book was highly successful in its time. ~See Martin Kirk, C. M. F., "The Spirituality of Isaac Thomas Hecker: Reconciling the American Character and the Catholic Faith" (doctoral dissertation, Saint Louis University, 1980). 3~See Gustave Thils, Theologie des Realitbs Terrestres (Bruges: Desclre de Brouwer, 1946). An epoch-making book. By the same author: Christian Attitudes (Chicago: Seepper, 1959), 96 pp. 3rThe Secular Journal, April 7, 1941, (New York: Noonday, 1977), p. 183. 37Seeds of Contemplation (Norfolk: New Directions, 1949), pp. 20-23; 60-61. 3gTexts from the Inner Experience published by William H. Shannon, Thomas Merton's Dark Path, The Inner Experience of a Contemplative (New York: Farrar-Straus-Giroux, 1981), pp. 136-141. 3gIbid., p. 131. 4°Ibid., p. 124. a~New Seeds of Contemplation (New York: New Directions, 1974), pp. 52-63. 4~Saint Teresa of Jesus, Way of Perfection, 1,2; 3, I; Mansions, Epilogue, 4. 43M.-D. Chenu, O.P., Nature, Man and Society in the Twelfth Century (University of Chicago Press, 1968). 44See John M. Lozano, C.M.F., Discipleship: Towards an Understanding of the Religious Life (Chicago: Claret Center for Resources in Spirituality, 1980), pp. 49-53. *s Sacrum Commercium, no. 63, St. Francis of Assisi: Omnibus of Sources (Chicago: Franciscan Herald Press, 1973), p. 1593. 46John F. Kavanaugh, S.J., has given particular attention to this theme in his Following Christ in a Consumer Society (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1981), pp. 131-142. ~TThe Constitutions of the Sisters of Charity of the Blessed Virgin Mary, in the first chapter, contain this significant text on the new attitude: "Since we participate simultaneously in various communities--the world community, the Christian community, the entire B.V.M. community and the local community--it is the responsibility and privilege of each sister to'contribute to each of these communities according to her gifts and circumstances" (no. 3). ~See Lozano, op. cit., pp. 142-170. ~9Marc Oraison, The Celibate Condition and Sex (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1967). See D. Goergen, The Sexual Celibate (New York: Seabury, 1975); K. Clarke, O.F.M. Cap., An Expe-rience of Celibacy (Notre Dame, IN: Ave Mafia, 1982). ~°Also significant is the number of articles published lately on friendship between religious and persons of the opposite sex they are oriented to. In Sisters Today, M. Neuman, O.S.B., has published two articles (October 1974 and November 1976), and J. Becker has published one (May 1979). In REVIEW FOR RELIGIOrdS. 1 counted four: C. Kiesling (July 1971), T. Dubay (November 1977), B. O'Leary (March 1980) and V. Peter (March-April 1982). There is another by Y. E. Raguin in Way Supplement 19. Trends in Religiou~ Life / 505 s~Some constitutions and complementary statutes now speak positively of the relationship between friendship in general and celibacy: Marianists, Rule ofl_zfe, 11, no. 2.4; Piarists, no. 57; Sisters of Charity of the B.V.M., no. 33; Sinsinawa Dominicans, no. 13; Sisters of Saint Joseph of Lagrange, Working Document (1979), no. 42. Some texts treat of the relationship between celibacy and friendship with Christ: Jesuits, 31st General Congregation, Decree 15, no. 8, p. 152; Combonians, no. 26.1. Or they speak of friendship as the fruit of celibacy: Jesuits, op. cir., pp. 152-153; Brothers of the Christian Schools, 5d. Or they view friendship as a defense of celibacy: Jesuits, ibid. Other texts restrict their remarks to friendships within the community: Stigmatines (1982), no. 15; Holy Cross (men), no. 65; Scalabrinians, no. 80. s2Sce A. Cussianovich, S.D.B., Religious Life and the Poor (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1979). S3Evangelica Testificatio, no. 17, Flannery, p. 688; Sacrosanctum Concilium, nos. 98, 101. ~See Lozano, op. cir., ~Poverty and the Kenosis of Christ,~ pp. 191-192. ~SSacrosanctum Concilium, no. 98, 101 (December 4th, 1963), A. Flannery (pp. 27, 28) translates "religious. ~ ~6On this theme, see T. Matura, O.F.M., op. cit., pp. 72-78. The Religious as Witness The new society of love cannot be built in the future if the quality of love does not change. You are the privileged sign of this new love destined to change the world. Your love, "different" from other loves, is the image of God's love. And so your life, evangelically lived and donated, becomes, through your sincere and pure love for mankind, a convincing witness of the love of the Father who is in heaven. Here is your role in the Church. your most authentic vocation. And it is in this way that you, like Mary who believed in the word and the love of the Lord, contribute to the mission of Jesus to create the new world. And that you may live and give Christ's charity more fully, the Church exhorts you to return to the authentic spirit of the founders, to their intentions and to wholesome traditions.--John Pdul 11, To the Women Religious in Albano, 19 September, 1982. L'Osservatore Romano, 11 October, 1982, p. 5. Constitutions and the Revised Code of Canon Law David F. O'Connor, S.T. Father O'Connor is Chairman of the Department of Church Law at The Washington Theologi-cal Union. He resides at Holy Trinity Mission Seminary; 9001 New Hampshire Ave.; Silver Spring, MD 20903. On January 25, 1983, Pope John Paul II promulgated the revised Code of Canon Law, effective as the universal law of the Church for the Latin Rite on November 27, 1983, the First Sunday of Advent. While the revised Code contains nothing startling or surprising in its treatment of the consecrated life, it does bring a needed stability with its clearly stated practical ecclesial expecta-tions concerning post-Vatican II religious life. The canons reassert many of the things stated already by the Fathers of Vatican 11 and in the documents of the post-Conciliar Church. An examination of the canons and their b~i~kground manifests a fidelity to the theology of these ecclesial documents. The 1983 revised Code states in canons 578 and 587 that the constitutions must faithfully express and preserve the mind of the Founder, the spirit and character of the institute, its nature, purposes and wholesome traditions, as part of its patrimony. The constitutions must also contain those fundamental norms required by the Church for the governance of the institute, the discipline of its members, the content of the vows, as well as those norms necessary to express the formation and incorporation of its members and the proper order-ing of the institute. They should fittingly combine both spiritual-ascetical ele-ments with the practical-juridical ones (canon 587 § 3). Once approved, this fundamental code can not be changed without the consent of the proper ecclesiastical authority (canon 587, § 2). Ecclesial Approbation of Religious Institutes and Their Constitutions Through the formal ecclesial approbation .of the constitutions or funda- 506 Constitutions and the Revised Code / 5117 mental book of each institute, the authority of the Church brings into existence the institutes as an ecclesial body or confirms it if it is already established. Constitutions have always been of great importance to institutes because they are particular and specific to each religious family. They help articulate the identity, mission and life-style of the institute and its members. Unfortunately, in the early part of the century this uniqueness was often overshadowed and submerged when constitutions were forced into an excessive conformity with other norms. As a result, there was an inappropriate similarity between many of the constitutions because they were saddled with details, secondary ele-ments, minutiae and multiple regulations which made them all somewhat identical in style and content and overly rigid in form. This was due principally to the Normae of 1901. Consequently, constitutions appeared to be only a verbatim repetition of those norms so that their individuality was lost. This pattern was altered by the Vatican II revisions required by Perfectae caritatis, 3 and 4, and Ecclesiae sanctae, If, 6-11. Fundamentally the revised Code reaffirms the place of religious institutes as progeny of the Church and gifts of the Holy Spirit (canons 575 and 577). In accordance with Lumen gentium, 43, the Code states that it is the authority of the bishops which, recognizing the work of the Spirit, brings into ecclesial existence the various religious institutes (canon 573). It is the right and duty of the pastors of the Church, the bishops, to interpret the evangelical counsels and determine how they are to be practiced and lived by those in the conse-crated life (canon 576). It is this hierarchical recognition which guarantees that the members are living a gospel life which contributes to the building up of the Church (canons 576 and 577). Historically, those groups of pious and well-meaning people who did not receive, or lost ecclesial approbation, often ended up in some form of spiritual aberrancy, schism or heresy, such as the followers of Peter Waldo or the Fraticelli of the middle ages. Today, those religious who are inclined to question the necessity of their affiliation with the pastors of the Church may risk a similar fate. Effect of the Revised Code With the revised Code going into effect, the 1917 Code and all other general or particular disciplinary laws of the Church which are contrary to or treat the same matter as the 1983 Code are abrogated (canon 6, § l) as of November 27, 1983. Therefore, many of the things which were in the 1917 Code no longer are part of the revised Code and are not required to be in the constitutions or the proper law of institutes. For example, nothing is required regarding a period of postulancy, a dowry, or the necessity to have the local Ordinary or his delegate at the election of certain superior generals, as was required in the 1917 Code. This means that institutes will have to determine for themselves whether or not they want to retain some of these things as part of their own law. The retention of some period of"postulancy" may seem to be a prudent and wise one. However, each institute is free to determine this for 508 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1983 itself. If an institute decides to do so, the matter becomes what canonists refer to as praeter ius, something that is required by the proper law of the institute which goes beyond the requirements of the universal law of the Church. Competency of the Roman Congregations Even though the 1983 Code abrogates all existing disciplinary law when it concerns matters which are treated in the revised Code, this does not imply that the dicasteries of the Apostolic See cease to enjoy a certain authority to make requirements not contained in the universal law. For example, the Sacred Congregation of Religious and Secular Institutes could require some-thing the 1983 Code does not require. In the approval of new constitutions, the SCRSI can require that the essential profession formula of an institute appear in the proper law of that institute. Simply because the universal law does not require this to be done does not imply that it is beyond the competence of SCRSI to do so. Also, the SCRSI certainly retains some competence to make exceptions to requirements of the universal law. Possibly, even though the new Code requires that religious profess vows and not promises (canon 607, § 2), the SCRS1 may be able to grant an exception to a particular institute which can make a good case for retaining a practice which it had during the post- Vatican II period when experimentation was permitted. The Principle of Subsidiarity and the 1983 Code of Canon Law One of the outstanding characteristics of the revised Code is its application of the principle of subsidiarity. As a principle, subsidiarity means that matters should be treated and decisions made at the level which is the most appropriate one. The most appropriate level may not be the lowest one. Whatever level is judged to be the most appropriate will also be the level of responsibility and accountability. The revised Code, therefore, unlike the 1917 Code, very fre-quently states that certain matters are to be determined by proper law. In regard to institutes of the consecrated life, the canons of the Code often state that a specific matter be treated in the constitutions or in the ius pro-prium, the proper law, of the institute. While the proper law will often be, in fact, the secondary or complementary books (Directory, Statutes), the term proper law does not exclude the constitutions or the fundamental book. There-fore, when the canons state that the proper law is to determine the matter, it means that the institute can decide to treat the matter in the constitutions and/or the directory. However, when the canons state that the matter is to be treated in the constitutions, it must be in the constitutions, even though it also may be elaborated upon in the directory. What follows is my paraphrasing of excerpts from the canons of the revised Code from the section on Institutes of the Consecrated Life (Book II, Part III, Section I, Titles I and II, ChaPters 1-6), which require, or leave the option for, complementary legislation in the constitutions or the proper law of-an institute. They are meant to be of aid to those religious institutes which are Constitutions and the Revised Code / 509 preparing their constitutions for submission to ecclesiastical authority for approbation, as well as those institutes which have their constitutions apiaroved already, but may have to make adjustments to bring them into harmony with the revised Code. The reader is advised that these do not attempt to paraphrase the complete canon in every case, but only that part which refers to material which must or may be treated in the constitutions or proper law. Canons Requiring Complementary Legislation in the Constitutions or Proper Law 1. Canons Concerning Norms Common to All Institutes C. 578. The mind of the Founders and their plans, ratified by the competent ecclesiastical authority, about the nature, purpose, spirit and character of the institute and its wholesome traditions, all of which constitute the patrimony of the institute itself, must be observed faithfully. (These are among the things which must be in the constitutions according to c. 587, § 1.) C. 581. The constitutions are to determine the competent authority who may divide the institute into parts, join parts, erect new ones or make other such arrangements. C. 587, § 1. In order to protect more faithfully the particular vocation and identity of the institute, the constitutions or fundamental code of an institute must contain and preserve, besides those things stated in can. 578, the fundamental norms about governance of the institute and the discipline of members, the incorporation and training of members, and the proper object of the sacred bonds. C. 587, § 3. Spiritual and juridical matters are to be suitably joined together; moreover, norms are not to be multiplied unless it is necessary. C. 587, § 4. Other norms established by the competent authority of the insti-tute may be appropriately collected into other books which are to be reviewed and adapted to the needs of times and places. C. 596. The authority of superiors and chapters is to be defined in the consti-tutions as well as by the universal law of the Church. C. 598. The constitutions are to define the manner in which the evangelical counsels of chastity, poverty, and obedience are to be lived in the institute. Members are to live the counsels according to the proper law of the institute. 2. Canons Concerning Religious Houses C. 609, § 1. Religious houses are erected by the competent authority as deter-mined in the constitutions, after having received the consent of the diocesan bishop in writing. C. 613, § 1. A religious house of canonical regulars and monks under the authority and care of its own superior is autonomous, unless the constitutions state otherwise. C. 616, § 1. The suppression of a religious house by the Superior General must ~i10 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1983 be done according to the constitutions and only after the diocesan bishop has been consulted. 3. Canons Concerning Government in the Institute C. 617. The role of a superior is determined according to the proper law of the institute, as well as the universal law of the Church. C. 622. A superior general has power over the whole institute, its provinces, houses, and members, exercising it according to the proper law of the institute; other superiors have power within the limits of their roles. C. 623. In order that members be validly nominated or elected to the office of superior, it is required that they have a fitting time after perpetual profession in the institute as determined by proper law. For major superiors, it is determined by the constitutions. C. 624, § I. Superiors should be constituted as such for a certain and con-venient period of time according to the ~aature and necessities of the institute, unless the constitutions determine otherwise for the Superior General or superiors of autonomous houses. C. 624, § 2. The proper law of the institute should provide suitable norms so that superiors constituted for a definite period of time do not continue for a long time without an interruption in offices of governance. C. 624, § 3. Nevertheless, superiors can be removed from office during their term or transferred to another office for reasons stated in the proper law of the institute. C. 626. When superiors confer an office or when the members participate in elections, they should observe the norms of the universal law and the proper law of the institute, abstaining from any abuse or acceptance of persons, choosing those who, before God, seem most worthy and suitable, having only God and the good of the institute before them. They must not attempt to procure votes, directly or indirectly, for themselves or for others. C. 627, § 1. According to the norm of the constitutions, superiors should have their own council, whose assistance they ought to use in carrying out the work of their office. C. 627, § 2. Besides the cases prescribed in the universal law, the proper law of the institute should determine those cases in which it is required that they seek their consent or advice for the validity of an action according to canon 127, and any other determination of proper law. C. 628, § I. Superiors who are designated for this purpose by the proper law of the institute should conduct visitations of the houses and members entrusted to them at the times designated according to the norms of the proper law. C. 629. Superiors are to reside in their own houses and not absent themselves from their house unless it is according to the norm of the proper law. C. 63 l, § I. The general chapter, which has supreme authority in the institute according to the norm of the constitutions, should be so formed that, repre-senting the whole institute, it should form a true ~ign of its unity in love, and so forth. Constitutions and the Revised Code C. 631, § 2. The composition and ambit of a chapter's authority must be defined in the constitutions. The proper law of the institute should determine the order to be observed in the conduct of the chapter, especially in regard to elections and procedures. C. 631, § 3. According to the norms of the proper law, not only provinces and local communities, but also any member at all has a fight to send freely his wishes and suggestions to the general chapter. C. 632. The proper law determines accurately those things which pertain to any chapter of the institute and to similar bodies, concerning their nature, authority, composition, mode of proceeding and time of meeting. C. 633, § 1. Organs of participation or consultation (committees and commis-sions) should faithfully carry out their duties according to their mandate and the norms of universal and proper law. In some manner, they should express the care and the participation of all members for the good of the whole institute. C. 633, § 2. In establishing these means of participation and consultation and in wisely adhering to them, discretion should be exercised so that the manner of carrying them out may conform to the nature and end of the institute. C. 634, § I. Institutes, provinces and houses, as juridical persons, have the capacity for acquiring, possessing, administering, and alienating temporal goods, unless this capacity is excluded by or limited by the constitutions. C. 635, § 2. Every institute should have appropriate norms for the use and administration of goods so that its poverty is properly fostered, guarded and expressed. C. 636, § 1. Every institute should have a treasurer, distinct from the superior, according to the norms of proper law who will care for the administration of goods under the direction of the superior. Also, every local community is to have a treasurer (bursar) distinct from the local superior. C. 636, § 2. Proper law should also determine the time and the manner for rendering an account to the competent authority. C. 638, § 1. Proper law, within the limits of universal law, determines when an act exceeds the limits and manner of ordinary administration and when an act of extraordinary administration may be placed. C. 638, § 2. Besides superiors, officials designated for this purpose according to the proper law may validly incur expenses and perform other juridical acts of ordinary administration according to their office. 4. Canons Concerning Admission of Candidates and Members of the Institute C. 641. The right to admit candidates to the novitiate belongs to the major superiors according to norms of proper law. C. 643, § 2. The proper law can place additional impediments or conditions to the valid admission of candidates beyond what is required by the Code. C. 645, § 3. The proper law can require other testimony concerning the suita-bility of the candidate and his freedom from impediments besides what is required by the Code. 512 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1983 C. 648,§ 2. The constitutions can require time for one or several apostolic experiences outside the novitiate community. However, these are not calcu-lated as part of the twelve months required for the validity of the novitiate. C. 650, § 1. The scope of the novitiate program, under the direction of a novice master, is defined by the proper law of each institute. C. 653, § 2. The novitiate being completed, a novice makes temporary vows or leaves; if there is doubt as to his suitability, he can be given a longer time of probation but not beyond six months. This is done by the major superior according to norms of proper law. C. 655. The time for temporary profession is determined by proper law, but it is not to be less than three nor more than six years. C. 657, § 2. If judged opportune, the period of temporary vows can be extended by the competent superior, according to proper law. But the whole period of temporary vows should not exceed nine years. C. 658. Proper law can also add to the appropriate requirements for the validity of perpetual profession beyond' those stated in this Code. C. 659, § 2. The proper law must define the duration and program of training after first incorporation, being always mindful of the goal and character of the institute, as well as the needs of the religious. 5. Canons Concerning Rights and Obligation~ of Members C. 663, § 3. According to prescriptions of proper law, religious should also celebrate worthily the liturgical hours and other pious exercises. C. 667, § 1. The proper law determines the character and extent of the cloister according to the nature and mission of the institute, always reserving some part of the house solely for religious members. C. 668, § 1. Before first profession, unless the constitutions provide otherwise, the members, animated by the spirit of the gospel, should cede the administra-tion of their temporal goods to whomever they choose, freely disposing of the use and usufruct thereof. C. 668, § 2. With permission of the competent superior, according to norms of proper law, religious may, for a just cause, change the disposition. C. 668, § 3. Pensions, assistance, insurance of whatever kind received by the members are acquired by the institute, unless the proper law states otherwise. C. 668, § 4. With the permission of the superior general, according to the norms of proper law, a member may renounce his goods. C. 668, § 5. If a member does so, anything that comes to him after this belongs to the institute according to the norms of proper law. C. 669, § 1. Religious should wear the habit of the institute, according to the norms of proper law, as a sign of their consecration and witness to poverty. C. 670. The institute ought to supply the members with all that is necessary according to the norms of the constitutions for achieving the end of their vocation. 6. Canons Concerning the Separation of Members from the Institute C. 684, § 4. In the case of the transfer of a professed member to another Constitutions and the Revised Code / 51:3 institute, the proper law of the new institute will determine the time and manner of probation. C. 696, § 2. For the dismissal of a member in temporary vows, even less serious reasons suffice according to the statutes of the proper law. Conclusion While religious institutes are ecclesial bodies subject to the authority of the Church according to the norms of the Code of Canon Law, nevertheless, each institute enjoys a certain autonomy in respect to its own internal life (canon 586). Once the constitutions and the proper law of each institute are approved by ecclesiastical authority,.the institute is expected to go about its internal life without the need for interference from outside agencies. Without doubt, the proper Roman dicasteries have a right, within their competency, to exercise a certain authority and vigilance over institutes of the consecrated life, especially in their relationships to other groups and persons in the Church. However, the particular style of life and the patrimony of each institute will be fostered and safeguarded more surely because of the fact that the revised Code requires (or leaves option for) each institute to determine for itself the specifics of many aspects of its internal life. Over forty canons, in application of the principle of subsidiarity, shift responsibility for the determination of certain matters to the constitutions or proper law of the institute. Therefore, the uniqueness of each religious institute will be made more evident. The rigid conformity, which was the unfortunate consequence of the Normae of 1901 and--to a certain extent--the 1917 Code, will be a thing of the past. The revised Code of Canon Law represents a significant advance in the implementation of the theological understanding which the post-Vatican II Church has of the consecrated life. While no human law is without its limita-t~ ions and deficiencies, the 1983 revised Code should help to foster the devel-opment of a vibrant religious life. Evening Prayer As gently as gravity pulls objects Toward the deepest center of the earth, From my first dawn You exerted this pull. Like a magnet, You attracted me away from other energizing forces And drew me closer and closer in Your magnetic field. Come sunset-- And I hover here, this strong power magnetizing me Even closer within the circle of Your love, The center of Your being Where I belong. Carmelita McKeever, CSJ The College of Saint Rose 432 Western Avenue Albany, NY 12203 Everyone Who Has Left Father and Mother. When a New Missionary Arrives Barry Malone, S.M. Father Malone has set forth his reactions soon after arriving in Lahore from his homeland of New Zealand. Much of this is in the experience of every radical response to Christ. Father Malone teaches at St. Anthony's High School; P.O. Box 61; Lahore, Pakistan. When you get there, you will, of course, experience quite a culture shock. Be prepared for that. It was kind of them to warn me. I had heard already of this "culture shock" and had observed it in others once or twice. Just the process of adaptation--or so I thought. What I am writing now will not, I suppose, be anything like what I will write in six months' time. But, then, part of the experience seems to be being anything but confident about next month, much less about six months' time. Is what I am feeling "culture shock"?. Does the giving of a label to an experience like this help me to own the experience? Or is such a label an aspirin, to help minimize the pain--and maybe even prevent the change that has to take place within me? Culture shock or not, there have been times of joy and excitement as I notice new sights and sounds. There have been moments of wonder and disbelief at finding myself in the midst of Asia and of Islam, in an area steeped in history and saturated with people. But there have been times, too, of being the complete stranger, times of confusion, of disorientation, of fear, of the absence of anything familiar. I can be walking jauntily along the street and be approached by someone: I cannot speak his language, and he cannot speak mine. I can be cycling along 514 Everyone Who Has Left Father and Mother / 515 (guided by my tattered map) only to discover that I'd forgotten I was in the Northern Hemisphere now, and here the midday sun lies to the south--and I am lost yet again. I, so used to school, have to ask my pupils ("Speak very slowly please, boys!") "What is this application? What is checking? What is Basant? Why do you remain standing like that?" I have biked (accidentally) into the middle of a bazaar area, and felt trapped and helpless, until a kind stall-owner had to shift his whole shop to help me squeeze past. Surely you can cope with all that? Yes, but I feel I'm not learning very fast; each confusing event seems to upset me more. The excitement and the novelty of it all has begun to evaporate but the confusion remains. Sometimes just knowing what is going on helps one to accept it all with tranquillity and confidence. But what is going on? What if all that makes sense is the image of the rough and confused underside of a tapestry? But you trust in my guiding hand and the wisdom of my purposes, surely? Surely. But how shallow can such trust be! How glib those remembered phrases from sermons I delivered or counsel I offered. The fragility of an eggshell is not obvious amid the straw of the nest. There seems to be a great desert that lies between the theory of hope, of mission, of pilgrimage, and the reality of this situation, of these people, of this particular phase. Human reasons (and sometimes motives deeper still) are tried: "You're here to replace Father X. He's the ideal person for the important tasks at Y." Of course he is. He would just be marking time here, and his gifts, his many gifts, must be used. But why me? You volunteered and when word came you had months of peace at the very prospect. I had no real idea. Really? Well . You're here to support the others. Fine. They deserve all the support they can get. They've had a rough time of it. But how can 1 support men of such inner strength when I feel the way I do? Anyway, what has been changed by my arrival--except another bread on the paten at Mass each morning, another bowl of soup on the table each evening and, for a few weeks, the laughter at my small repertoire of jokes? Come on! Now you know why the affirmations of farewell flooded in. It was to strengthen you with memories for days like these. But what about the other farewells: "What are you running away from?" "How do you know you're doing the right thing by going?" "Weal be one short here next year: there'll be no replacement for you." It's a year of preparation for the next step. What for,-exactly? Preparation for a real culture shock, when poverty is not just seen but is my lot too, when the language barrier cannot be avoided by staying with an English-speaking community and teaching in an English- 516 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1983 speaking medium school? Preparation for a land where even cricket is un-known, and to be a priest is to be suspected? What sort of preparation anyway? If I said purification, how would that sound? It sounds awful! But then again it sounds right. What else but purification to describe this sudden and traumatic state with nothing visibly significant to do? Was I still so chained to the merry-go-round of activity for its own sake? Was I really so reliant upon success in tasks and relationships that the lack of any prospect of success is so sour? Was I .(who read so much and reveled in change) really in such a rut that these different people, this strange place, these foreign tongues are so unsettling? Purification. Yes, that's it. One thing has to go, I know, and that is the spirit of giving a performance. Didn't I feel only yesterday, halfway through prayer, that it was a performance for God? And didn't that realization stop me dead and make me ask him to lead me? But purification for what? What kind of purification is it that involves an irritation at the discovery that the English wording of the Our Father here is different from the one I learned thirty-six years ago? What kind of purification is it that makes me so annoyed at the mistakes I made at a game of draughts last night? At draughts, for heaven's sake! What kind of purification is it that makes me feel so awkward when the teachers call me "Sir" and want to shake my hand each morning; when every one of fifteen hundred boys seems to want a personal answer to his "Good morning, Sir"?. What kind of purification is it that makes me feel I'm not coping as I was so used to coping? Why do I feel so suspicious and afraid? Ah, do you hear what you are saying? You were so used to coping! The one who is coping doesn't usually ask for help. Or so l~ve noticed. OK. I need to trust more. I walked the streets of this city; I landed at that chaotic airport; I passed those first homes of the very poor and turned to you and said: "In you, O Lord, I place my trust." Sure you did. Incidentally, I prompted that, you know. But trust now means to let go of that crumbling cliff-face that you're perched on and to hold on to me as l find a path to real safety. But what is this crumbling cliff?. Do I have all that much to let go of?. What do you think? Would my naming things just now really help? Or would it just add to the theory? Let me just gently release those fingers of yours one by one and transfer your weight onto me. It's sort of traumatic and gentle at the same time. Look down if you like, because your part'of the cliff will be down there shortly. So what do I do? Even at prayer I find my requests are selfish and I doubt my sincerity at any noble petition. That's another thing. Why do youpray as if l were unable to speak? Who was it who changed your prayer from "Gift me" to "Please continue to bless me and guide me in your service'? Who prompted your praise for all the good you see in this land of poverty? Is it just a matter of time, then? Everyone Who Has Left Father and Mother / 517 Well, time is not the enemy. I, too, shared the experience of waiting. I endured those sterile sermons in the synagogue and waited for the time when I myself would speak, l know what it's like to wait. l also know what it's like to have to change plans. Do you remember when I was in the Temple, aged twelve? Remember the results of my long retreat in the desert? Then I, discovered my mission was to be done in weakness not comfort, in powerless-ness not power, in ordinariness not in the spectacular. Didn't you preach on , that once? So what do I do? Should I write, read, visit, wander the streets and bazaars? What? What you do is less important than doing whatever it is with humility and love and with me. I find that fine for a while, but the days can become long and empty. That means you are waiting. Remember once you doubted if I wanted you to come here and you offered to call it off?. I said whether I wanted you to come or not, I would always be with you. I remember. I never looked back after that. Or have I? We'll talk again sometime. I have no intention of guarding you from the truth of these people, of yourself, of our real mission together. Keep in touch. Sure. thanks. From Tablet to Heart: Internalizing New Constitutions I and I! by Patricia Spillane, M.S.C. Price: $1.25 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 The Fourth Vow of the Jesuits John R. Sheets, S.J. Father Sheets, a frequent contributor, is a member of the Department of Theology of Creighton University (Omaha, NE 68178). His topic is one of recurring media, interest, especially in view of the Jesuits' upcoming 33rd General Congregation. The recently published article on the Jesuits' fourth vow by Father John O'Malley, "The Fourth Vow in Its Ignatian Context: A Historical Study,"I has more than academic interest at this particular juncture in the history of the Society of Jesus and its relationship to the Holy See. Beginning with the Jesuits' Thirty-second General Congregation (December l, 1974 to March 7, 1975), there has been a series of unfortunate contretemps between the Society and the pope. Pope Paul VI's final appraisal of the work of that congregation, as conveyed in Cardinal Villot's letter (May 2, 1975), was not enthusiastic: "From an examination of the decrees, it appears that well-known circum-stances prevented the General Congregation from achieving all that His Holiness had expected from this important event . " Nor was the Society's own appraisal of itself that positive. The first item on the agenda of every general congregation according to the statutes is the election of a commission to review the state of the Society. This commission, after reviewing the material at its disposal, issued its report to the assembled delegates. | was one of the delegates. We felt that the report was too negative. We remanded it to the commission. If my memory serves me, we voted to disband the commission itself. However, the tone of the report found its way into a decree called "Jesuits Today." It begins with the words: "What is it to be a Jesuit? It is to know that one is a sinner, yet called to be a companion of Jesus." After the commission's report, and the response of the delegates, Fr. Arrupe took up the topic in an address to the congregation: Two images he 518 The Fourth Vow of the Jesuits / 5"i9 used stand out in my memory. He compared the Society to a ship that has come through a storm, battered, but intact. He also described it as a person who is ill, but not mortally. Another series of events is more recent. In October 1981, to the surprise of e~,eryone, Pope John Paul II, in an unprecedented action, replaced the man chosen by Fr. Arrupe as his personal vicar. In his place, the pope named an Italian Jesuit, Fr. Paolo Dezza, who has had a long history of service to the Society, as his personal delegate to the Society. Predictably the reaction among Jesuits ran the gamut. On the part of many the reactions were negative: feelings of anger, resentment, indignation, confusion, suspicion, hurt. Some, on the other hand, saw it as a special sign of love and concern the Holy Father had for the Society, intended to help us prepare more fruitfully for the upcoming congregation at which a new general will.be elected. The initial bristling reaction was in large part quieted by subsequent events. The week-long meeting of the provincials from all over the world with Fr. Dezza, then their personal conference with the pope brought a great deal of mutual understanding. Finally, Fr. Dezza's letter convoking the next General Congregation to take place in September of 1983 set our faces toward the future. Fr. O'Malley's article on the fourth vow assumes, then, a special impor-tance in the light of the events just mentioned. Its implications for our collec-tive awareness of our relationships toward the Holy See merit serious attention. In what fol~lows, after an analysis of Fr. O~Malley~s article, I shall pose questions expressing my misgiving with his argumentation and his conclusion. Then I shall present Fr. Arrupe's treatment of the fourth vow in some of his recent writings. Needless to say, even in my disagreement with Fr. O'Malley, I respect him as a scholar and personal friend. The Fourth Vow However, even before I begin, I should say something about the Jesuits' fourth vow for the benefit of non-Jesuits who might read this. In establishing his religious order, St. Ignatius took over, of course, many traditional aspects of religious life. In other points he was creative and innovative. He took over, for example, the idea of the final vows that a member would make after a period of probation. But he also introduced an innovation in what arecalled "grades" in the Society~ Those who are admitted to last vows would be admitted on two grades (or levels). The first grade comprises the spiritual (priests) and temporal (lay brothers) coadjutors. The second grade is that of the professed. Besides the regular vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience, the professed took a fourth vow of obedience to the pope. The description of this fourth vow is found in The Formula of the Institute, the document in which Pope Julius IIl in 1550 gave his full approbation to this new congregation. 520 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1983 The pertinent sentences from the formula are the following: "We are obliged by a special vow to carry out whatever the present and future Roman pontiffs may order in what pertains to the progress of souls and the propaga-tion of the faith; and to go without subterfuge or excuse, as far as in us lies, to whatsoever provinces they may choose to send us . , The motive for the vow is "for the sake of our greater devotion in obedience to the Apostolic See, of greater abnegation of our own wills, and of surer direction from the Holy Spirit." Further declarations are found in the Constitutions for the Society written by St. Ignatius. "The Fourth Vow in Its Ignatian Context: A Historical Study" I come then to Fr. O'Malley's article. He describes in the Introduction the particular question that focuses his study: "The most specific and urgent ques-tion raised in the past few years is how the vow relates to the papal magiste-rium. Does the vow obligate Jesuits to an adherence to that magisterium that is different from that of other Catholics, especially Catholic theologians, and is 'special' to the members of the Society? That question, we must note right off, is asked regarding an obligation imposed by the vow" (p. 1). The article is prompted then by the problem facing Jesuits, particularly teachers, writers, editors. Does the fourth vow oblige them to support papal teaching if they judge there is room for legitimate disagreement? In Part I. St. Ignatius and Doctrine, upon examining the relevant sources, Fr. O'Malley draws the conclusion that St. Ignatius had no interest in doctrine qua doctrine, but only in its pastoral implications. "Is it too much to state that Ignatius had no real interest in doctrine or theology in the conventional sense of those terms today? A strong case can be made for that position" (p. 9). "Ignatius conceived doctrine almost entirely with a view to pastoral effective-ness" (p. 11). "The behavioral and attitudinal components emerge much stronger in this 'horizon' than do more strictly dogmatic issues" (p. 11). Part II. St. Ignatius and Orthodoxy deals with doctrine as the object of faith. Here he takes up St. Ignatius' "Rules for Thinking with the Church." He addresses himself mainly to Rule 13: "What seems to me white, I will believe (creer) black if the hierarchical Church so defines, believing (creyendo) between Christ our Lord, the spouse, and the Church, his bride, there is the same Spirit which governs us and directs us to the salvation of our souls." Rather than se.,eing this rule as applying to doctrinal orthodoxy qua orthodoxy, O'Malley interprets it more as a practical directive: "His 'rule' emerges, therefore, more as an indication of a disposition of soul (sentir) than as a practical instrument for theological discourse. It thus reflects the attitudi-nal and affective intent that pervades Ignatius' writings" (p. 15). "But, again like the rest of us, Ignatius was cautious, conventional, and even undiscrimi-nating in areas where he had no deep inte~rest. One of these areas was academic theology, and even the relationship of that theology to orthodoxy" (p. 16). According to O'Malley, then, Ignatius had little interest in academic theology, The Fourth l,'ow of the Jesuits / 521 or the relationship of theology to dogma, or interest in dogma itself, except as providing some kind of pastoral orientation. O'Malley begins Part III. St. Ignatius and the Church with a statement which seems to moderate what he said before: "If there is one exception to this vagueness on dogma in Ignatius' thinking, it lies in ecclesiology" (p. 21). But he goes on to correct this impression. What was Ignatius' idea of the Church? Not primarily a "school of doc-trine," nor a hierarchical and sacramental reality, but as a locus for ministry. "Ministry, quite ~imply, is what the Church is about. As one conceives minis-try, therefore, so does one conceive Church" (p. 24). "Rather than 'school of doctrine,' therefore, a less ambiguous term of Ignatius' idea of the Church might be 'school of the affections' or 'school of affectivity'" (p. 25). What is the identifying role of the papacy then? Since the Church is to be conceived as the locus of ministry, the pope is conceived as the universal provider for ministry in the Church. "The consensus was., that the pope was the universal pastor with certain prerogatives that made him the ultimate judge in areas where equitable settlement could otherwise not be achieved. He resolved disputes and thereby was the ultimate guarantor of order in the Church. 'Pastor' and 'judge' would be the two best words to describe his function" (p. 28). Was there such a thing as papal magisterium at the time of Ignatius? Not in the sense in which it exists today, according to O'Malley. "The pope is rarely described as 'teacher,' at least as we would be inclined to understand that word today" (p. 29). "They were very far, then, from exercising a teaching office in any regular and positive sense" (p. 29). What was it, then, that led Ignatius to conceive the fourth vow? According to O'Malley, it was mainly his sense of order. This came from his temperament and background, as well as from the contemporary world view that saw hierarchy as the natural order of the universe. "It was inevitable that he would ascribe this same structure to the Church" (p. 31). Was the vow a one-sided promise that the Society be totally at the service of the pope? Not exactly. It was a quidpro quo: "They needed the Holy See as badly as they believed the Holy See needed them . In defending the Holy See. the Jesuits were also defending their own charter to exist" (p. 32). "The relationship between the Jesuits and the pope was mutually advan-tageous" (p. 33). However functional this whole arrangement was, O'Malley concedes that Ignatius did, nevertheless, have a special regard for the Holy See. But one should not read back into his devotion to the Holy See the personalistic fervor that grew up around the person of the Holy Father in the nineteenth century (p. 33). In Part II/. St. Ignatius and the Fourth l,'ow O'Malley argues against the position of two Jesuits, a German and a~ Spaniard, who hold a position contrary to his. He feels they go too far in expanding the scope of the vow. He 522 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1983 grants that "the symbolic character of a vow, as an expression of a religious ideal, should be expansive, but the proper object of a vow must., be clearly localized" (p. 38). He then states again the specific question he is addressing: "Can the pope bind a Jesuit by virtue of his vow to some 'special' defense, say, of Veterum sapientia, or Populorum progressio, or Humanae vitae, or Laborem exer-cens?" (p. 40). His answer is "No." There is no indication that Ignatius or his companions ever considered this as a likelil~ood or possibility (p. 40). He rules out, then, the possibility of the pope comman~ding some specific teaching by reason of the

Issue 35.6 of the Review for Religious, 1976. ; ,,,,llllili,,,~,iililli REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is edited by faculty members of St. Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boule-vard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. Published bimonthly and copyright © 1976 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Composed, printed, and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $2.00. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $7.00 a year; $13.00 for two years; other countries, $8.00 a year, $15.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order payable to. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Robert Williams, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor November 1976 Volume 35 Number 6 Renewals, new subscriptions, and changes of address should be sent to REVXEW yon RELIGIOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Correspondence with the editor and the associate editor together with manuscripts and books for review should be sent to REvmw voa RELICIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boule-yard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, SJ.; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at $4th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsyl-vania 19131. Catholic Schools in a Declining Church: A Theological Reflection Donald J. Keefe, S.J. Father Keefe, on the faculty of the Department of Theological Studies; St. Louis University; St. Louis, MO 63103, has been a frequent reviewer in these pages. Presently he is on sabbatical leave and is residing in the Jesuit Community; Fordham Univer-sity; Bronx, NY 10458. Catholic Schools in a Declining Church, co-authored by Andrew Greeley, William McCready and Kathleen McCourt (Sheed and Ward, 1976) has attained a prominence in religious publication ,which is perhaps comparable to that of Hans~ Kiing's In[allible? An Inquiry. Their common success fol-lows a common formula: each purports to present a scholarly basis for a radical criticism of the institutional Church. Each is underwritten by a prominent figure in the Catholic world, Consequently, each has~a political significance which is independent of the intrinsic merits of its critique. Each has been given instant notoriety in th.e popular press and each, in its fashion, is symptomatic of what seems to be a pervasive dissatisfaction within Cath-olic academic circles regarding what are felt to be inappropriate responses of the Church to the contemporary world. Finally, each reflects a similar impatience with the "official" ecclesiology, one which understands the Church as "the sacramental sign of the Kingdom of God: KiJng's rejection of this ecclesiology, long since explicitl does not concern us here. Rather we are coficerned with the ecclesiology implicit in Catholic Schools in a De- ,clining Church, particularly insofar as this bears upon Greeley's judgment that the encyclical,.Humanae Vitae, is simply a disaster. Greeley's salient theological conclusion is that, by reason of a funda-mental failure in communication, the official Church, though, revivified by the reforms of Vatican II, has, in the publication of Humanae Vitae, entered 801 802 / Review ]or Religious,: Volume 35, 1976/6 upon a suicidal rejection of 'its own reality-in-history by rejecting the morality of artificial contraception; and this despite the fact that~ the greater part of the Catholi6 people find no impropriety in such practices. Certain normative presuppositions undergird Greeley's conclusion: .1 ) The Catholic Church is as fit a subject for sociological analysis as any other social .entity. It is quite as permeable to this kind of scrutiny'as, for example, would be the Democratic Party. 2) The actual meaning of events, as these occur in the history of the Church, is that meaning which this kind of investigation reveals. Thus, for example, an event is "disastrous" when its effects, as measured by sociolog-ical criteria, are found to be destructive. These presuppositions are merely expressions of the demand for auton-omy which every intellectual inquiry, regardless of its object, makes as a matter of course. Every science is in search of the unity of truth. The syn-thetic or conclusion-reaching aspect of any science is no more than an expression of confidence in the power of its own method to integrate into a comprehensive understanding all the scattered data which its inquiry un-covers. There.is a kind of arrogance associated with any disciplined attempt to understand, for it supposes an ability to transcend, to dominate, ultimately to comprehend its object. Such intellectual self-sufficiency at a naive level raises no particular theological difficulties. But when it is given sophisticated expression as a method O[ knowledge, it can become an ideology, one which would pretend to offer a comprehensive criterion of truth and reality that would be analogous to, and necessarily competitive with the Christian faith itself. Such methodologies in fact become ideological when they refuse to admit the existence of any truth, of any reality beyond their grasp. They become ideological when they place prior limits upon-what can be "known," upon what can be "true." Over the centuries of the Church's history, such ideological convictions have continually troubled the faith of its community. Such convictions have been woven out of the tangled threads of rabbinical Judaism, of the Medi-terranean mystery religions, of the He~llenistic philogophies which were contemporaneous with the early Church. With the dawn of the Middle Ages, the first introduction of Aristotle)~ logic prbvided a new challenge to the faith. In the late Renaissance, there was a c~omparableenthu~iasm for yet another powerful intellectual resource: "scientific method," with its ac-companying mathematics, began to be exalted as the ~nique mode of .access to certitude. By the end o~ the eighteenth century, this confidence had waned. The Romantic period then found in the humanistic study of history and in nascent sociology a new key to the human enigma. Truth is no longer to be r~garded as something "out there." Rather it is seen as the proper Catholic Schools in a Declining Church: A Reflection / 1~03 achievement of human societies in history--a history which is fundamentally in human hands, open to human analysis and exhaustive comprehension. This, too, fed the formation of ideologies. Common to all such ways of knowing iS the problem of their "conver-sion." The value ofthese works of human intelligence is enormous, in-dispensable. How can they be conformed to the Catholic faith, enter into a Catholic intellectuality? The claim that they cannot be. so conformed is still heard, both from those who too much love and from those who too much fear the new learning. For those who love too much, such a conversion would put an end to the "autonomy of science." For those who "too much fear," such a conVersion would end by relativizing the faith. Perhaps the simplest reply to such claims is to point out their futility. The objection that the "conversion" of an otherwise autonomous method of scientific inquiry would write finis to its independence rests upon an outdated notion of scientific method, the philosophical roots of which were undercut by Kant.~The intrinsic dilemmas of this method were demon-strated half a century ago by Heisenberg's0principle of indetermination. In point of fact, Descartes' dream of a universal science remains a dream, a dream tied to a time now remote. In our day, it survives only as an ideology of a peculiarly old-fashioned sort, kept alive' largely by social engineers' such as B. F. Skinner with his form of determinism. In such hands, this ideology becomes a kind of salvation, scheme by which the unpredictability, the enigmatic character of historical humanity is remedied by the elimina-tion of those human attributes which permit the emergence of historical' novelty: freedom and personal responsibility. The reduction of humanity to fungible integers thus finally makes possible a mathematically accurate calculus and control of the human. Such an ideology is really nothing more than eighteenth-century,Enlight-enment optimism, which wasn't even taken seriously by its own proponents. They wouldn't dream of submitting themselves to this~kind of salvation-scheme. Yet it is precisely in the. proliferation of ~such salvation-schemes that there comes,to be most clearly evident scientific method's need for a radication in a faith which transcends it. On the other hand, the point of view we indicated above as that which fears the relativizing of faith by any application to it of a free inquiry has its exemplars in the long line of rigofists who have always been present in the,Church. First there were the Judaizers of whom Paul complains. There was Marcion in the next century, Tertullian in the third. There have been the ever-present battalions of "hypertraditionalists," those who fear that a free future must :be open to~ sin and corruption, and would, on that account, foreclose the.History of Salvation in the name of salvation itself, 'quite as would their counterparts, the social, engineers. But their historical pessimism is the less excusable because the faith they are zealous to defend 804 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 is precisely a faith in the Lord of History whose creation is good and whose presence in. the world makes its history to be salvific. It is then as illusory for the scientist to fear the conversion of his methodology to the service of the Catholic faith as it is perverse for the committed Cathblic unduly to°fear the scientific inquiry which such a .con-version would unleash. Still, the mutuality of science and. of the Catholic faith is easier to envisage than it is to achieve. While the sunny confidence in a salvation-to- be-wrought-by-reason has waned somewhat since the age of optimism that was' ended in the blo~d,soaked fields at Verdun and. the Somme in World War ~, the practitioners of the social sciences, however mindful they ¯ be of the oft-cited perils of "Helleriization," still tend, to be less than troubled by the demonic potential of~their own saeculum, by the resistance of their own cultural commonplace--scientific method t6 conVersion. Not a little of this resistance is the fruit of the recognition by Vatican II that the world is not alienated from the concerns of the Church. Indeed, the autonomy of the secular in its own realm is there explicitly stated, bring-ing with it the enfranchisement of the scholar to do his work without con-cern for received opinions among churchme.n in regard to matters which are properly within his province. In Vatican II, historical and social re-search were liberated from all pious dishonesty. Catholic confidence in the ultimate goodness of fallen historicity required no less. " Since that time, Catholics have become accustomed, as they were not before the Council, to a view of an historical Church "with warts on." For many, perhaps for most,~ this new outlook was traumatic. Accustomed hitherto to think of the Church in terms of such attributes as militancy, witness, inerrancy, historical unity and the like, they were suddenly con-fronted by the countering of these commonplaces with other assertions of the Church's' documented cowardliness, conformism, error, division and so on. Indeed, these wer, e not seldom presented as conclusive refutations of the traditional faith in the one, holy, catholic and apostolic Church: More, and worse, these charges had a kind of ecclesial warrant--the "spirit of Vatican II." This spirit more and more often found expression in terms, of an active antagonism to the Catholic past. In particular, the validity of tradition and of the authority of the Church were challenged in the heretofore sacrosanct realm of sexuality. In this realm scarcely any element of the Church's faith or practice was without its learned opposition. In its opposition, argument rested not on historical research--for the.con-stancy of the moral tradition was quite clear--but upon what was con-sidered to be "the religious insignificance" of sexuality. From the vantage point of modern psychology and sociology, Catholic emphasis upon the sacramentality of sex, which found expression in the condemnation of certain sexual practices as being immoral, in the prohibition of clerical marriage, Catholic Schools in a Declining Church." A Reflection / 805 and of the ordination of women, was viewed as simply mistaken. Sociology and psychology were thought to provide a sufficient explanation for the origin of these, rules and 'condemmitions, while at the same time, these same disciplines,seemedzunable to find any present justification for con-tinuing such norms. Underlying such. conclusions was the presupposition that "whatever can be given a secular explanation must be so explained." Of course, this is a denial of the sacramental'significance of historical humanity. It represents a retrogression to thht .primitive mentality which .identifies religion~ with magic. In this' way,~, all holiness, all religious value~in the everyday, non-marvelous, commonplace human life in the world comes to be ignored. In such a circumstance, the Church has nothing to say to this~world; for the Church is seen to exist ,only~to provide :illusion for a dwindling clientele. Whoever would challenge the Churchqn such terms really cannot expect a heating' .The Church must~refuse the postulates of.iany science-become-idei~ logy. (3riticis .ms of the Church based on the validity-of such postulates do not bear upon reality. ,They leave .no common ground fore discussion. The authenticity of the Church's teaching and practice does not--and can~ notqwait upon certification from any secular tribunal. Greeley, oin his critique, like Kting, fo~-gets ,this, ~though not to, the point of the latter's explicit denial of the Church's sacramental and causal' relationship to the fulfilled Kingdom of God., Rather, Greeley~ simply does not advert to it. Still, the net effect'is the same.~When the Church is treated for purposes of the laboratory as' merely*an empirical datum, its sacramental character is ignored. The laboratory is not concerned with the truth and effectiveness of a sacramental sign. Yet the Chur~h,~can be understooddn her reality only insofar as he'r history is aqknowledged to, be the~uniquely effective sacra-mental instrument through which humanity, regardless of its historical di-versity, its contention and sin, is~ ultimately redeemed from its fallenness and raised to fulfillment by the.Lord of History.°tf this sacramental reality is not admitted at the outset, the,~Church becomes something debatable, a matter for dispute,, bringing us back to the format of what is, .after all, an obsolete apologetic: a profitless debate over the Church"s worthiness and/or unworthiness. In Catholic'. Schools in a De'clining Church, the worthiness/ finworthiness preoccupation is' mdni[est: the-Church-as-worthy is~,seen to be the-Church-as-popular. ,: ¯ ~- And yet, if it qs right to be wary of an ecclesiology which w~ould, sub-mit the Church to some .sup'erior academic wisdom, it would be quite an-other thing to conclude that the., Church need not respond .to criticisms which the academy cannot but, offer it. Conversation _between the two, however, can take place only where there is a foreswearing of,funda-mentalism On the one hand_and of doctrinaire scientism on the other. Only thus could there, come" into being a common universe of discourse. Necessarily~,ifivolved in this is a recognition by the Church that its doc- 806 / Review for Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 trine is given historical utterance for the sake of beginning new discussion quite as much as for the sake of punctuating an antecedent one. Necessarily involved is a recognition by the scientist that, when .all his data are collated, the inferences they support must be_ framed as questions, and as problems, not as doctrine in competition with the faith. It is by no means easy to preserve the conditions for such an exchange. Good will is, only the first of these. Ultimately the demand of such condi-tions is met by the recognition of what is actually taking place in such_a conversatibn. It represents an interchange between the faith of the Church and the questing reason of its members '(,which is called theology). It repre-sents the transformation of an otherwise purely secular scientific interest, a transformation imperated by its application to the Revelation.which is given in Christ.In this application, a given discipline accepts as the object of its inquiry a reality whose truth cannot be utterly controlled by its methodology, which it can only approach in a posture which is fundamentally one of worship. When .this attitude of worship fails, the exaggerated claim bf autonomy is thereby taken up again, and the transcendence~ of the Church's truth, of its faith, is rejected out of hand for the sake of "truly scientific objectivity." When such a rejection is misunderstood by'th~ Catholic faithful, when it is presumed to be normative for the scholarly enterprise, the opposite extreme becomes unavoidable: the sacramental holiness of the world and the historical character of the worship of the Church are equally sup: pressed. And the conversation which was originally ambitioned disintegrates into mutual recrimination. The changes rung on this theme are indefinitely numerous. In sum,. they preface and. finally constitute an aversion for the historical faith of the Catholic community in favor of those alternatives whose name is legion. All of this has been remarked sufficiently over the centuries. In the abstract, it is easy enough to see the need for a mutuality between Church and academy, but the realization of such a mutuality is continually im-peded byo the fallenness which mars us all. We are, all and. always in the sway of the~emptation to revert to a pessimistic status quo ante in terms of which the revealed compatibility of God and man, of the Church and the world; of faith and reason can be shown to be absurd, a fiction that is unworthy of man and derisory of God. Thisois a universal failing: It is no more characteristic of the academy than 'of the cloister, of the chancery than of the market. In either case, reductively we are seeking to denature God's good creation by rationalizing and objectifying its sacramental truth and unity.~By such devices we frag-ment our world: We trivialize and compartmentalize our world into isolated bits. And this becomes prelude for dismissing from our lives~ actual his-torical meaning, its sacramentality, the holiness of its totality. Whether done in the name of an ecclesial or a secular piety, what is Catholic Schools in a Declining Church: A Reflection / 807 achieved is a flight from the threatening mystery of our historical existence, from our need to be sustained in it by the Lord of History, and from our share in the crucifixion by which it is redeemed. Thus is worked out some very bad theolggy--and not only by theologians, but by anyone who pre-scinds, from the sacramental structure of reality for the sake of judging reality. A sociological examination 6f the Church simply cannot avoid at least an implicit theological component. If, .supposing it to have been clearly affirmed, an equation were to be drawn between the Catholic Church and the Aristotelian "perfect society," an explicit ecclesiology--however wrong-headed--- necessarily follows. If, on the other hand, one omits any definition of the Church, but then proceeds to analyze it precisely in the same way as one would analyze the United Mine Workers or ,the Democratic Party or the Marine Corps, in other words as an empirical organization of people, a group adequately understood as responsive to the laws which govern all social organization-- then the ecclesiology involved is. perhaps less explicit, but no less operative. In either case, the Church is measured by categories which are quite extrinsic to the worship which gives it its structure. The result for that older theology was a Church whose "perfection" was in contradiction to its involvement in the fallenness of history resulting in an antiseptic notion of a Church apparently immune to history. Comparable (if inverted) distortions in our own time profess to find the Church's patent~involvement in sin a fact entirely incompatible with its claim to transcendent sacramental stature. The contemporary excesses of this "low" ecclesiology are quite as responsive to the'preoccupations of its own day as had been the earlier baroque triumphalism--and with as little profit. The living Church cannot be understood by the use of devices which would separate its history from its meaning thiough a denial of either part of its reality. It is of course possible to concede these truisms and still resist their corollary: that the Church of .our daily encounter, with its monumental confusion, cowardice, ignorance and complacency--in sum, with all the ills the spirit is heir :to--can be and is the earthly community in which the risen Christ is present and active in the outpouring of his Spirit. Surely one may attend with sympathy Dr. Robinson's "but I can't be-lieve that!" Particularly is.it hard to give to such a.Church a cash value by admitting, even demanding, an infallible Magisterium'. Such notions, it may seem, were perhaps credible before the dawn of historical consciousness. But they can hardly survive our contemporary understanding of the social and historical conditioning of the Church. This~is indeed a very possible conclusion--especially if we forget that it is precisely from this kind of despair of the temporal and human as being the medium bf God's presence that humanity was lifted by the faith, first Review ]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 of the Jews, and then of ourselves who are their heirs, in theJdord of History who is present to hiss, people. He is present to his people not as a timeless and universal principle,, but in his Covenant, by which alone time has unity and significance, and thus is history: sacramental time. The salvific content of the events of which we are a part is quite as hard to accept today as it was at Meribah. It is indeed hard to believe that the concrete deeds and words of the Church across the .ages constitute the unique mediation of the risen Lord, for the Church is so obviously trapped, blinded, sullied and fragmented by its own historicity, by its own involve-ment in Sin. But precisely such a belief is integral with the Catholic faith. It is simply not negotiable. It is no news that there has been a developing reluctance within Catholic academic circles to give full value to the ecclesial-historical character of our redemption in Christ. This hesitation on the part of the acaderhy had focused on the Church's assertion of ,doctrinal unity and authority. But it has since broadened its front to the. extent that tradition itself is held to be discon~ tinuous within its own history, whether we are dealing with the. historical unity of the Church's doctrine or its moral or liturgical tradition. Thus it is deemed to be discontinuous within its own history, intrinsically incoherent, without value or~significance~ for the present time. In,sum, the unity of the Church has no historical expression, according to this view. Consequently the historical record, whether doctrinal, moral 'or liturgical~ is of purely academic interest. It lacks the necessary unity to support its claim to sacra-mental significance. The heart of this argument, of course, is the ancient conviction of the incompatibil.ity of'~God and man, heaven and earth, the present time and the egchatological golden age of fulfillment. Its pseudo-Christian version, Gnostic in its roots, denies that the community Of sinners; which constitutes the Church, can be the effedtive symbol, the sacrament of the fulfilled King-dom of God. This denial relies upon the perceived incongruity between the sacramental sign, whichLis ~the historical Church, .,and the effect claimed for it: the completed and fulfilled redemption of humanity in Christ. It was the mistake of' the Counter-Reformation apologetic to contest this visible incongruity, even though it is simply indisputable. To pretend the contrary leaves the apologete open to all the sacred dishonesty which characterizes a triumphalist reading of Church history. It is .not.because the Church is Worthy that she is "the sacrament of our encounter with God." It is by virtue of the presence of the risen Christ in her historical worship that the Church has her reality and her mission, not by virtue of her own probity, nor by any "works" of her own devising. It is this insight, fundamental to any valid ecclesiology, which demands Of the Catholic scholar a subordination, of his critical method to~the prior truth of his faith together with~ a surrender o of an~y delusory intellectual Catholic Sch~ools in a Declining Church." ,4 Reflection / 809, autonomy. In this 'way, while maintaining as its object, the full sacramental reality of the historical Church, the scholar's inquiry also retains intact its full integrity. The radical consequence of a refusal or of a failure in this subordina~ tion of method is the equivalent methodological reduction of the ev~nt~ of the Church's history to merely empirical significance, and the: dissolu-tion of ~the sacramental value of these events. ,At such a point, any. re, sistance to this dissolution ~must then be accounted unscientific, irrational, unrealistic, benighted. Such resistance fails to justify itself before the court of scientific reason whose writ runs as ,.far as the mind may range. In such a context, when the Church, as the object of this kind of "scien-tific" scrutiny, claims, e.g., for its traditional sexual morality a trans-empirical and sacramental value, it is challenged to make manifest the .worthiness of its doctrine for the salvific role asserted for it~and,.of course, cannot do so. Its claim is then held .to be out of court, and. if it.is a~cepted at all, this is deemed a matter of private idiosyncracy, an affair de gustibus, not "really" true . ° In the criticism ,of Humanae l/itae presented in .:Catholic Schools in a Declining Church there is more thana little of this rationalist obscurantism. ~Instead of attempting to construct the sociological o theology which ,only Catholic.-sociologists 'are equipped to' offers,, this book provides merely a secular object of sociological investigation, a pseudo-church, one with which a secular methodology,~:may be entirely comfortable~ ~i~ This pseudo-church is' fashioned from., atoms oLempirical information gathered according to the canons of .that secular methodology. The struc-ture w~hich emerges from these atrms in their collectivity is entirely em-pirical. The resulting picture of the "church" is found, to no one's amaze-ment, to Square rather badly with the Church of Catholic tradition ~enunci-ated,, for example, in Lumen Gentium or Gaudium et Spes, and particularly with thb tradition repeated affew years later in Humanae Vitae. Among the particularly prominent discrepancies between the official Church of these documents~.and the empirical "c~hurch;' described by Greeley's team is the disrrgard on the part of.the latter of the sexual, moral, ity .~which was recently reatiirmed by Rome,. to which the Catholic hierarchy has subscribed. This, in its turn, must lead to; a dilution of that respect in which the teaching authority of the Church must'be held. ~ Greeley considers this .situation to be the result of a massive failure in communication in the. institutional Church. By reason of this, a badly informed pope came to insist, disastrously, upon a morality long since abandoned by his subjects. ~ . ~ Doubtless experts in the~fieid of his methodology will find reason to contest the adequacy of Greeiey's sampling~and analytical techniques. Per-haps they will reject the evidence of "decline" which this book infers. Review tor Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 Whether or not such deficiencies exist is not finally very important. No doubt a further examination of the data will contribute to the clarification of the structure revealed by the study and perhaps even require a recasting of previous inferences, thereby contributing to the accuracy of Greeley's findings. But no refinement of this methodology can bring it to bear upon more than an empirical entity. And when that entity is identified with the visible Church, a fundamental mistake has been made. If this mistake is insisted upon, it must lead to a rejection of the Catholic doctrine that the Church is a sacramental sign, having a significance which entirely transcends the empirical. This sign-visibility is the visibility of worship; ultimately, it is Eucharistic, the concrete historical actuality of the Eucharistic community, the visible structure of which is constituted by the sacraments of its worship. This c~mmunity, the Church, can no more be identified with the "church"~ discovered in Greeley's research than can th6 Eucharistic Lord be identified with the merely surface phenomena of the Eucharistic celebration. Such a refusal of this Catholic dbctrine of Church need be neither ex-plicit nor deliberate. In fact, this kind of rejection most frequently occurs inadvertently, when, for instance, a powerful new intellectual tool permits the achievement of results so impressive that its adepts forget that the faith transcends it, that the faith cannot be contained within it or be controlled by it. In the controversy which is bound to follow, a similar forgetfulness just as frequently afflicts their theological opponents. These, in rejecting the dominion of the new learning, tend also to ignore the possibility of its con-version, and so they, in their turn, underwrite the isolation of the Church from history. For a clear example of this, one need only recall the dispute between, the "old" theology and the "new" logic in the early Middle Ages. Such mistakes find their corrective in the conversion of the new device to the perennial task of theology, a process which, like all conversions, is always incomplete. While the sociological construct which emerges in Catholic Schools in a Declining Church' cannot be identified with the Church, it remains ~true that the people who responded to the questions of the study did so in the con-text of their actual involvement with Catholicism. If their response is to be given the kind of theological value and weight that Greeley suggests, it mtist be because the attitudes and opinions which~this survey reveals are under-stood as entering into the sign-which-is-the-Church, and therefore as an element of the visibility of the Eucharistic community and of its worship. In this c~ntext of Eucharistic worship, the reaction which Catholic Schools in a Declining Church has registered, whether .in regard to the value of°Catholic schools, to the changes introduced by Vatican II, or to Humanae Vitae, cannot be identified simply as the kind of Church consensus that Catholic Schools in a Declining Church: A Reflection constitutes the sensus fidelium, the living faith of the People of God. This is because the sacramental Church is a s.ign which is contradicted. Our living of the faith is not a clear and obvious thing, but rather is rendered obscure and enigmatic by the fallenness of humanity and of the world. We daily refuse the truth of the "good" creation; and that refusal continually finds its historical expression in the community of the Church in a failure of Worship. The Church's worship has its prior antecedent structure in the sacra7 ments. These are the form of authentic human existence in fallen history, and in their unity they constitute the sole criteria of visible membership in the Church. Their truth is that of mystery, i.e., it can be appropriated only through worship. ~But by this worship it is appropriated. And over the centuries, this appropriation emerges historically in the doctrinal, moral and liturgical tradition of the Church. This appropriation is also a continual conversion and enfranchisement of the People of God. That it does not fail is due to no excellence of the Church's members, but only to the promise and presence of Christ among them, by which they continue to be the Body of Christ, one flesh with their risen Lord~ That this union does not fail is therefore a matter of faith: neither its existence, its quality, or its extension can be verified empirically. Its worship is that of a community of sinners. Essential to it is that sacra-ment of repentance and reconciliation by which sin, as a personal concrete failure of worship, is acknowledged in an~act of worship by which 'personal solidarity with the Eucharistic community is given again. ~ The fortunes of this sacrament of reconciliation over the nearly two millennia of its history record the enormous resistance offered the Christian notion of personal moral responsibility. The primitive identification of "sin" and "crime" required centuries to reform.~The subsequent' privatizing of confession and penance began so to obscure the public aspect of sin as to reduce public morality once more to a mere obedience to law. In some Catholic circles, this tendency is now .so far advanced as to include the despotic proposition that "the law to be obeyed" is simply the public law of the civil society. In this view, the Church has nothing to say in re morali beyond a loving endorsement of ~the reigning pluralistic consensus. ~ Yet it is only through an existential familarity with the antecedent, mean-ing of-the holy that sin is recognized and acknowledged to be a violation of the human, of the sacramental existence which is structured by the Church's worship. This holiness, this human integrity is sustained and measured by this worship, and 'not otherwise. Only here does a valid consensus emerge as to the meaning of good and evil. This consensus, this discovery, keeps pace with the slow, reluctant response of the People of God, of the Church in its members, to its Lord and his Gift--which is to live in Christ, in light rather than in an undemanding darkness, in freedom rather than in a comfortable 1112 / R'eview ]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 conformity, in history rather than without. significance. And finally, it is to live responsibly, rather than to abdicate that honor and burden in favor of a false transcendence which knows no .crucifixion and offers rio redemption. The pace of this pilgrimage is impeded by our straggling, by our desertion, our defection toward one or other mirage.~ This history of Exodus is our history--together with its' pain. All of us who think ourselves Catholic must hope to be within that his-tory, undergoing that reformation and salvation. But we cannot guarantee ourselves to be so, whether as individualS'or as representatives of the whole. We cannot suppose our personal assessm6nt of moral right and wrong to be definitive and assured. Particularly is this the case when.the mass of Catholic Christians have not yet come to terms with the Christian meaning of free-dom; when they tend still to'suppose that whatever is not forbidden by Church law or tradition is thereby moral, or at least morally indifferent. It is only when adult Catholics recognize, their responsibility for the realization into history of the truth of Christ and consequently acknowledge in prayer the possibility of their own wilfull violation of their own human symbolism, their own sacramental and historical reality, their~own inescapably sexual existence--it is only in this circumstance that they can form a Eucharistic_ consensus on this now excruciating question of' the consistency of the sacra-mental symbolism of marriage with that symbolism which is inseparable from artificial contraception, and upon a complexus of other questions of only lesser urgency which bear upon the sacramental truth~of human sex-uality. This condition is not now met. Only when it is met can the Church speak confidently 'upon these newly disputed points. The obstacle to such utterance .now is not that the twenty years since the discovery of "the pill'-', is insufficient for mature judgment, but that even now the basis for making the judgment is not clear--as Catholic Schools in a Declining Church makes very evident~ The Second Vatican Council indeed introduced changes in the Church. But the greatest of these is the most ignored: the quiet dropping of .the obediential "morality which was typical of Catholic moralists before the Council--and which, unfortunately, remains typical~ for many of them to this day~ Conformi~, rather than responsible personal participation in the worship of the Church, is still proposed as the basis for moral decision. The book under consideration~only joins a chorus long since formed. But it is still from the authentic experience of free Eucharistic worship and its achievement of ~free historical.truth that the Church must teach; the truth of Christ is available, on no other basis. This is the only information system there is. It falters always~ but it does not fail. ~ The Small Group in Religious Life William Barber, Ph.D. Dr. Barber is Professor of. Psychology at Eastern. Washington State College in Cheney, WA 99004. He also is a consulting psychologist with ot~ces in Spokane. Earlier drafts of this article were helpfully reviewed by Paul Fitter, S.J.~ Ellen Monsees, R.S.C.J., Henri Nouwen and Leo Rock, S.J. Introduction This paper analyzes religious community groups from a behavioral science perspective. "Commu.nity" here refers to a face-to-face living group, usually comprised of fewer than a dozen persons, whose members may ormay not include co-workers in one,s ministry: The attempt is to show how a group's psychological developmeiat, as a community relates to and interacts with the work of members in their apostolic ministries. There exists a ~vell-established theological basis for "church as com-munity,".~ much of which has. developed since Vatican 11,1 and a detailed historical and sociologi.cal rationale calling for intensive, committed com-munity group relationships has been presented recently by Fitz and Cada.z Leaders of. religious communities know about and agree attitudinally with the need for establishing strong and deep group relationships. . o It is the experience of the writer in providing consultation to leaders of religious orders and to particular groups of religious, that what is not known is how to integrate into religious life the concepts and skills needed to est~ib-lish strong, dynamic groups of religious. It is hoped that What follows~offers some goidelines, drawn from the be-havioral sciences, for bridging the gap between the theoretical and "the practical aspects of group development in religious life. 1Dulles, A., Models oi the Church (Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1974). -"Fitz, R. L., & Cada, L. J., "The Recovery of Religious Life," REVIEW FOR RELI~OUS, 34, September, 1975. 813 814 / Review for Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 The approach will be to describe ways in which groups differ from col-lections of individual persons, to distinguish religious communities from other kinds of groups, and to show how a religious community becomes an organi-zation for meeting the personal needs and at the same time the apostolic purposes of its members. A psychological rationale for community life is offered along with concrete suggestions for effective religious community life. Assumptions A group becomes more than a collection of individuals when all mem-bers need one another to accomplish a common task or goal. A dozen persons sunbathing near each other on a sunny beach are not a group in this sense; but if together they respond to a cry for help from a sinking swimmer they become a group as they work together on their shared.task of rescue. Once their task is completed, the group ceases to exist as a group, unless the members should decide to form an association to provide beach safety, in which case they would continue to be a group. Thus, being together doesn't define a group, even though all members have the same objective (in° this example to acquire suntans). It is when members need each other for some collective purpose; it is when they become interdependent, that they become a group? A community, such as a religious community is a special kind of: group in that it attempts to provide for more than support for the accomplishment of external tasks. A community~ is a group which attempts to meet the human and personal needs of its members as well: physical needs for food and shelter, social needs for recognition and friendship, and what Maslow calls the "ego needs''~ for meaning, and self-actualization as persons? Thus, a collectivity of individuals may become a group: a group may become a community for meeting physical, social and ego needs of members. At this highest level of motivation--the ego needs for actualization and fulfillment~it seems a religious community as a group attempts to meet another nee.d, the idiosyncratic need to develop its own "identity." And a re-ligious community's identity must be considered in relation to its ministry. Identity and ministry are like horizontal and vertical aspects of a group's religious life. The Vertical Dimension As a person needs to grow in self-knowledge, so a group becoming a community is drawn towards a deeper, more complete sense of identity. This is like a "vertical" dimension of growth--reaching down inside to ex-plore, to observe and to reflect upon the sense of '"~who we .are," and then aBass, B. M., & Nord, W., Leadership, Psychology and Organizational Behavior (New York: Harper & Row, 1960), p. 39. ¯ ~Maslow, A. H., Motivation and Personality (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1954). The, Small Group in Religious LiIe / 815 to come back up to the surface to test and to listen to what is being said in response. What do we mean by the discovery of identity? We mean finding out., real desires and characteristics . . . and being able to live in a way that expresses them. You learn to be authentic, to be honest in the sense of allowing your behavior and your speech to be the true and spontaneous expression of your inner feelings.~ Community identity then becomes established through sharing informa-tio~ n" in response to the question 'Who are we'?" More specifically this means generating information from the senses, the emotions, the intellect, and from the spirit for those who believe in a faith dimension to life. Transactions that provide such information for a community have to do with interper-sonal exchange: Who are we for each other? What do we want from each other? What will we offer to each other? These questions are continually asked and responded to, as persons tyy to moye from being a "group" to becoming a "community." As these questions are asked and responded to, "data"--i.e., information about thoughts, feelings, wishes are made avail-able for sharing, and thereby become integrated into the processes of decision and choice. Research indicates that more data from members produce higher quality decisions and greater member commitment to carrying them out.~ The Horizontal Dimension Identity needs to be expressed in life outside the community group; it needs to be expressed in apostolic ministry. This is like a horizontal dimen-sion of growth reaching out, listening openly and reflectively and respond-ing to what one is called upon to do and be with others. In the words of Maslow: Part of le~arning who you are, part of being able to hear your inner voices, is discovering what it is you want to do with your life. Finding one's identity is almost synonymous with finding one's career, revealing the altar on which one will sacrifice oneself,r As there are points of diminishing return in gains from individual per-sonal growth experiences s.uch as psychotherapy or encounter groups, so too are there limits to the gains to be expected from a religious community's developmental experiences--those aimed at developing a group's identity dimension. Community relationships and activities have as their raison d'6tre the support of tasks that further the work of apostolic ministry. It is analogous " to a couple's love for on'e another, in that their relationship, their "com- ¯ ~Maslow, A. H., The Farther Reaches o] Human Nature (New York: Viking Press, 1971), p. 183. GKelIy, H. H., & Thibault, J. W., ',Group Problem Solving," in Lindzey, G. & Aron-son, E. (eds.), Handbook o] Social Psychology (Cambridge, MA: Addison-Wesley, 1969), pp. 61-88. rThe Farther Reaches, p. 185. 816 / Review [or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 munity" in a sense, requires expression in accomplishing goals-~having and raising children, for example--in addition to developing the affective rela-tionship that draws and keeps them together. Such a relationship needs manifest expression in order to continue to grow. This does not mean each aspect of community life requires direct con-nection to members' ministries. On the contrary, support is often drawn from interludes from "tasks": activities of recreation, distraction and apparent irrele(,ance. It is important to remember the purpose for which the support is given: that is, the rationale and the dyna.mic force for religious community comes from the shared commitment of members to thee values and goals underlying their collective ministries. As such, community identity is incom-plete without outward expression; small group religious life is incomplete without being related to apostolic ministry for purpose and direction. Similarly, ministry needs cbmmunity. Ministry needs community: (1) to provi~le a support system for sharing, helping, caring; i.e., for providing "maintenance" for the work of ministry, and (2) to provide for the personal development of members for their own sake, apart ~'rom apostolic work roles. "For their own sake" must not be taken lightly. The intrinsic dignity and value of each person's humanity calls for emotional connection to sig-nificant others. This need, this expectation, can be responded to by persons who commit themselves to one another in community life In summary, it seems that religious community groups work on two "agendas"---one vertical, the 6ther horizontal--and these become interde-pendent. Work on the vertical (e.g., listening, sharing; and more systematic-ally at times, team building or role clarification interventions)~ allows the group and each member more to offer on the horizofftal, in ministries. ' Work on the horizontal, the ministries, enables the con~munity to insert it-self into the world. It brings the world through members' experience into the community in order (l) to infuse ndw life, (2) to offer new direction, and (3) to provide standards for evaluating effectiveness of effort. The result is a dynamic system in which energy and creative r~sources increase. The sy~stem is dynamic in that it generates energy, and it is self-renewing because of the interdependent, reciprocal', exchanging relationship between vertical "and horizontal dimensions. The Goal of Community: Synergy One cannot explore for very long questions Such as we have asked about the dynamics of community life and ministry without confronting the larger question: What should community experience be like? What is it we are searching for by our attempt to integrate identity needs with apostolic min-istry? Maslow was a student of the anthropologist Ruth Benedict and he draws upon her concept of synergy to describe activities within a group w,hich benefit both individuals and the group as a whole. Quoting Benedict, Maslow writes: The Small Group in Religious Lile / 817 I shall speak,.of cultures with low synergy where the social structure pro- ¯ vides for acts which are mutually opposed and counteractive, and cultures with high synergy where it provides for acts which are mutually reinforcing, ¯ . . I spoke o] societies with high social' synergy where their institution insures mutual advantage ]rom their understandings, and societies with" low social synergy where tile advantage o] one individual becomes a victory over an-other, and the majority who are not victorious must shi]t as tliey call. (Italics by Maslow).8 Note the images that portray sources of energy and strength in Bene-dict's synergistic group and that we strive for in the small community group: " . . . acts which are mutually reinforcing . " " . . . mutual .advantage frrm their understandings"; opposing activities whereby "the advantage of one individual becomes a victory over another. " (italics mine). The goal of small group religious community life from a psychological viewpoint is to tap and direct this energy to provide driving force toward purposeful objectives. And the content of Benedict's message i~ the syner-gistic communities offer understanding, support °and action and oppose win/ lose relationships among members. Criteria for Synergistic Community ~ One way to test the thesis offered: here is to observe and reflect" upon experience with alternate life styles among priests and religious. Certainly no single organizational structure' promises to bypass the struggles required to enable a synei~gistic community to grow. Comprehensive discussion is beyond the scope of this paper, but we wish to poi~nt to certain mechanisms that have been found helpful by some rdligious communities in developing open, prbblem-solving climates. Most of the traits mentioned require organi-zational consultation and experience-based learning methods to become operational.9 The starting point is the vertical dimension--to expand the experience of c~mmunity identity. Desirable characteristics and mechanisms have to do with group size, group norms, communication skills, information about members' ministries, shared prayer' and sacraments, and explicit contracts regarding time, tasks, territory'and role of members. A' small group of from four to twelve members enables differences in re-sources to be present and the opportunity for each person to become well known to the others¯ Norms--implicit rules governing behavior--must be developed to support the expression'of affection a~d warmth, confronta, lion and conflict, and to support bringing-in input and help for the group. Basic communication skills in paraphrasing, describing behavior, describing Sop, cit., p. 202. 'aBarber, W. H., & Nord, W., Healer RoleJ o[ Consultants and Need Orientations o] Clients (Spokane: Eastern Washington State College,~mimeo, 1975). Barber, W. H., and Lurie, H. J., "Designing an Experience Based Continuing Education Program," American .tournal o[ Psychiatry, 130, 10, 1973. 818 / Review [or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 feelings and giving and receiving personal feedback, facilitate interpersonal communication. Some initial didactic experience is useful, and the develop-ment of norms to support the use of communication skills in day-to-day practice is crucial. Since feelings about s'elf are strongly influenced by feelings about work, members who strive for interdependence need to have direct, first-hand in-formation about each other's apostolates. The group has the benefit of dif-ferent experiences and resources when it is comprised of members from different ministries. As there should be shared expression at an interpersonal level of posi-tive feelings and confrontation, as noted above, so there should be shared expression at a spiritual level through prayer, liturgical celebration.and other faith experiences. This serves the purpose of enabling persons who have a commitment to each other to share this special part of their lives. Keeping spiritual sharing separate from other community activities and allowing for differences in member participation is also important because these are valuable means of legitimizing the individuality of personal experience and expression. To be clear about and in control of boundaries the points of separa-tion- for the community in regard to time--when things happen; tasks-- what occurs; territo.ry--appropriate physical spaces for the separate and shared parts of members' lives; and role,delineation of special roles within the group (e.g., management, coordination, various maintenance roles). Summary: Culture and Open System Two ideas may help to summarize the characteristics of effective com-munity: they are "culture" and "open system." It is the hope of those estab-lishing a small group community to enable a particular culture to emerge, one that is unique and meets special needs for that group. A culture is characterized by its social organization--especially norms, roles and ex-pectations for member behavior--and by its "expressions," i.e., what is shared with the outside world by the group. We have said here that the culture of the religious community needs to develop through Particular norms, patterns and values regarding communication and the organization of tasks and roles and religious expression. An open system like a biological organism, is one characterized by in-take, transformation and export processes.1° Transactions occur with the environment: intake of new members, materials and information; and export of the "products" of members' work, and members who leave the system. It is through evaluating differences between intake and export that the quality of the group's efforts, its internal processes can be judged. To be. effective as an open system, a religious community requires management of its intake, export and internal transformation processes, in the latter case 10Rice, A. K., Learning ]or Leadership (London: Tavistock Publications LTD., 1971). The Small Group in Religious Li]e / 819 procedures for meeting individual and group needs for' control of boundaries of time, task, territory and role. Growth of the v~rtical dimension occurs as the culture develops; this growth can be measured by the quality of interaction among members. Open relationships occur as members share ideas, feelings and perceptions that have to do-with their purposes in being together. Trust develops enabling openness and personal sharing to occur appropriately (in contrast with some coercive group norms toward "confiding" or "revealing"). Norms support-ing individual differences in sharing grow and become explicit. When both openness and personal sharing occur and yet individual differences are en-couraged, a climate of genuine intimacy develops. Conclusions Openness, trust and intimacy are important because as human beings we are drawn toward becoming "the persons who we are" and toward being "in relationship.''~ But as a priest or religious one is committed to apostolic ministry--horizontal dimension. Community exists "in the service of min-istry"-~ and this is primary. But since vertical and horizontal dimensions are interdependent, the work of ministry will suffer unless it is anchored in re-ligious community experience that meets social and psychological needs of member~ along with spiritual and apoStolic objectives. One implication is that persons living in religious community may use-fully explore ways in which they are and are not, like the sunbathers men-tioned above, (1) a number of separate individuals in physical proximity to one another, (2) a group brought together because of an immediate, com-mon task, or (3) a special kind of institution, formed to support the work of members' apostolates and simultaneously to facilitate members' personal development. This paper has tried to distinguish among such groups in order to enable members to better cfioose the type of community to which they wish to be committed. The small group as religious community is a collectivity of persons unified by the overarching mission of faith--to facilitate the experience of Christ among persons. This paper attempts to describe how synergy develops and is maintained in the service of ministry thi'ough integrating, in a dynamic way, community needs and apostolic objectives of inembers.1~ XlBuber, M., I and Thou (New York: Scribners, 1970). tZThe ideas in the paper were presented at an assembly of provincial leaders of the Society of the Sacred Heart from North America, Australia, and New Zealand in September, 1975. Provincial teams of three to five persons worked for ten days at various experiential activities aimed at internalizing, in their own behavior, the char-acteristics which are noted in this paper. Their purposes were to strengthen their team relationships, to increase their own experience of Community and to apply the ideas in this paper to 'their concrete work tasks and roles. The women reported, and assembly observers documented~ significant movement toward integrating the concepts with be-havior and action. A paper summarizing behavioral science aspects of the assembly and follow-up data may be requested from the author. The Contemplative Attitude in Spiritual Direction William A. Barry, S.J. Father Barry, Director of the Center for Religious DevelopmeJat, has written on the subject of spiritual direction for our pages before. His last article for RfR was pub-lished in March, .1973. He continues to reside at 42 Kirkland St.; Cambri~lge, MA 02138. In a number of articles both William J. Connolly, S.J. and I have referred to contemplation and the contemplativ~ attitude as the kind of prayerful attitude which spiritual directors try to encourage in those who seek spiritual direction.1 We have tried to describe what we mean by these words. Suffice it here to say that we use the word contemplation in itsoetymological sense; we mean to refer to the act of looking at or listening to something. Webster's first definition of "contemplate" says some of what we mean: "to view or consider with continued attention." In our earlier articles, I believe, we have not been sufficiently precise in our use of the word co.ntemplation and contemplative attitude. We have spoken of contemplating .the Lord in Scripture and in nature and have not sufficiently distinguished between the contemplation of Scripture and nature 1Barry, W. A., "The Experience of the First and Second Weeks of the Spiritual Exer-cises," REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, Vol. 32, No. 1 (1973), pp. 102-109. Bai'r~;, W. A., "The Necessity of Contemplative Prayer for the Teaching and Stu~ly of Theology in a Ministerial School," Church Society ]or College Work, Vol. XXXIII, No. I (1975), pp. 6-10. Connolly, W. J., "Contemplation and Social Consciousness in the Context of the Directed° Retreat: An Experiential Approach." An address at the 8th National Workshop on the Spiritual Exercises, Cincinnati, August 25-28, 1974, and published by The Program to Adapt the Spiritual Exercises, Jersey° City, New Jersey 07302. Connolly,.W.J., "Contemporary Spiritual Direction: Scope and Principles, An Intro-ductory Essay." Studies in the Spirituality o] Jesuits, VII, (1975), pp. 95-124. 820 The Contemplative Attitude in Direction / 8:21 and the contemplation of the Lord. Perhaps we have also not sufficiently attended to the nuance that one can have a. contemplative attitude and yet noi be contemplating the LordsIt is the purpose of these notes' to attempt some clarification of the meaning of and use of contemplation in spiritual direction. The Contemplative Attitude and Its Relation to "Transcendence" Have you ever been so absorbed in watching a game or reading a book or listening to music that you have been surprised at the end of the passage of time, by how cold or hot you are, by the anger of a friend (who has been asking 'you something for ten minutes)? Then you know the power of paying attention to something, and you have a personal example of the contemplative attitude. The most telling examples come from reports of how parents 'have been so concentrated on their children's safety in a fire or accident that they have only at the end felt the pain of their own wounds. Thus, one effect of the contemplation of something outside ourselves is that it can make us forget ourselves and our other suroundings. Contempla-tion leads to, or rather, is an experience of transcendence, of self-forgetful-ness of everyone and everything else except the contemplated object. '. Conversely, we find that self-absorption makes the contemplation of any-thing or an~yone else very difficult, if not impossible. Thus,. a starving man may well be unable to enjoy a sunset. One of the key elements to ministry in a hospital is the atte~apt to help the sick to become interested in others around them and in the outside world, that is, to help them todo something that will enable them to forget their own pain and suffering or to put it in another perspective. , . : Another aspect of the examples we began with should' catch our atten-tion, namely that the responses of absorption, joy, pain,: sympathy, love, gratitude which are associated with contemplation are not willed acts or willed emotions~ They are elicited from us by what we see and hear and comprehend.,~ (Of course; these responses~, do not arise qrom a blank tablet, but are conttitioned by our own past experiences~) Herewe have an impor-tant element to consider in all spiritual direction. Responses that are elicited by contemplation are not experienced in the first instance as willed acts. The clearest example, perhaps, is the response of love when one looks at the beloved; it seems to be a gift, something that arises because of the other, not because one has decided to love or fall in love. What one can do is to look it and to try to pay attention to the other, but ore cannot will one's response. At most one can hope that one will respond a certain way, This last point leads us to a further consideration. The person who con-templates in the way we are describing has to have an attitude of reverence and wonder before the other, especially if what he/she ~vants to see or hear is within the power of the other to grant 9r~withhold. In this case all one can do is to ask the other to reveal himself or herself and wait for it to Review 1or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 happen. This insight is behind the prayer for what one desires which Ignatius of Loyola puts at the begifining of every one of the exercises of the Spiritual Exercises. For example, in the Exercises I pray that the Lord will reveal to me my sinfulness, that I may have shame and confusion, that the Lord make himself known to me in order that I may love him and follow him. Here we see even more clearly the relation between contemplation and transcendence. When we are dealing with another person, we are not in the same position as we are when we are dealing with an object. Saint Exuprry's Little Prince on his small asteroid only needs to move his chair a bit in order to see another sunset, but he is powerless to see the reality and unique-ness of his flower until she chooses to reveal herself to him.2 But when the free other chooses to reveal him or herself, then the genie is out of the bot-tle, as T. S. Eliot said,~ and the mystery of the other is upon us. Thus we have a further observation on the relation of contemplation to transcendence. We try to control our perceptions. We are threatened by new-hess and strangeness, msa result we often see only what we "want" to see or what our perceptual and cognitive structures let us see. To try to contemplate means to try to let the other be himself or herself or itself, to try to be open to surprise and newness. To begin this process means to open oneself to mystery, ultimately to the Lordship of the Other. It is to let oneself be controlled by the other; paradoxically, one finds oneself free. The upshot most often is that one becomes less incapacitated by fear from accepting the mystery of life/ The experience of transcendence is, I believe, one of a continuum from total self-absorption to total absorption in the other--with the two ends of the continuum being ideal .states not found in nature. In any human experi-ence there is bound to be an.admiXture of both self-consciousness and. aware-ness of the outside world. The boundaries of the continuum might well be circumscribed by referring to the narcissistic person on the one hand and the enraptured mystic on the other. It might also be a help to those who are praying to realize that the contemplation of the Lord is no different from the contemplation of any other person in this regard, namely that one can be in the intimate presenc~e of a very dear friend'and still be'or become aware of the ache in one's feet, of wondering whether one put out the lights in the car, of the work still to be done for school tomorrow, and so forth. ZAntoin"e de Saint-Exuprry, Le Petit Prince, New York: Harcourt, Brace and World, 1943. " :~"But let me tell y~u, that to approach the stranger ls to invite the unexpected, release a new force, Or let the genie out of the bottle. It is to start a train of events Beyond your control ." T. S. Eliot, The Cocktail Party 4See W. J. Connolly, "Freedom and Prayer in Directed Retreats," REVIEW ]FOR REr LIGIOtJS, Vol. 32, No. 6, (1973), pp. 1358-1364. The Contemplative Attitude in Direction "/ 823 "Distractions," in other words, are a part of even the most intimate rela-tionships and should be expected in prayer too. Finally, in an intimate conversation reflection on what is happening or. on how well one is doing, especially with the idea of writing about it in one's journal or using it as an example for an article like this, can disturb the communication and be an instance of self-absorption. It happens, but it is better not to program it this way. Thus, the wisdom of. the tradition in spiritual direction of advising the person praying to do the reflecting after the period of prayer is over. Contemplation ~f the Lord in Nature and in Scripture Perhaps now we can clarify what we mean by contemplation of the Lord in nature and in Scripture. The Lord is invisible, and so hard to look at; he also seems pretty silent, and so hard to listen to~ Often enough, therefore, we try too hard to pray, :try too hard to listen and look. Too often prayer is seen as self-absorbing; our natural reaction when someone says, "Let us pray," is to bow our heads, close our eyes, and get serious--all of which is proper in its place. But we rarely get the impression that prayer can be an enjoyable experience, :that it can be a conversation, a dialogue, a relation- .ship. The spiritual director is confronted with the problem of,helping people to the enjoyment of God when much Of their past experience of prayer is one of labor, seriousness, brooding, and self-absorption. Many of us .who do spiritual direction have hit upon the idea of helping people to forget themselves for a while. We ask them what they like todo, what he!ps them just to forget their problems (besides going to sleep), and we try to help them to see that 0ihey already do contemplate in the way de- Scribed in the first note. We suggest that they spend a certain amount of time-~each.day, if possible-~-, doing whateVer it is that they like doing that is contemplative, and that they :consider this time as time with the Lord (i.e: prayer) in much the same way that they might want to share the same ex-perience with a close friend. We also suggest that they ask the Lord to make his presence known, to reveal himself. Then they look at and/or listen to whatever it is 'they enj'oy. After e~ch period of doing this we ask them to reflect on the experience: What happened?'What did they experience? Did the Lord make himself known? It is surprising what .happens wl~en people begin to do something like this. They often have objections at first: they.f.eel it cannot be prayer. More-over, being so conditioned to think that brooding and insights and resolu-tions are what prayer is all about they often need time and patience to get the hang of it and to find out that the director really means what he says. But then they begin to find such "prayer" times enjoyable and relaxing; they find themselves surprised by feelings of joy and gratitude and a real sense that Someone is present who loves and cares for them. They find that th~ey can 824 / Review ]dr Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 admit things to themselves that they were always afraid or ashamed to look at--and they feel better for it; they feel freed, healed. Agnes Sanford in her book The Healing Gilts ol the Spirit gives very similar advice. To people whosay "I can't find God," she suggests doing some simple things, especially things they like to do, that will put them in the way of God, as she says,0so "that he can find you.''~ That is the point, of course; as we saw in the first.section, ~the only thing we can do when we want to get 'to know another person is to put ourselves near and askthe person to reveal himself or herself. These reflections bring us to the question: Are there any privileged places or privileged events where we can go to put ourselves in the Lord's way? The traditional answer has been that there are, and. that these places and events include the sacraments, especially the Eucharist, the church teaching, the Scriptures, and the works of the Lord, especially nature, I will say something later about additions to this list, but now I would like to take up nature and' the Scriptures, Traditionally people have found peace and refreshment in the beauties of nature: The fact that most retreat houses, houses of prayer and monas-teries have been located in or near scenes of natural beauty testify to the belief that God is found more easily in nature and in solitude than, say, in cities. Traditionally, too, we have spoken of God revealing himself in the things he has made, "in plants and animals and in men, the wonders of Your hand," as the canon written ~by John L'Heureux puts it,~ I do not want to counter this tradition although I do believe that the Lord can be as present in the city; rather, I want to examine how the Lord is met and how we can help people to meet him in natt~re. First of all directors should suggest~ looking ~nd listening, not give ideas about God's continual creation, his indwelling, and so forth. We have to remember that most of us are conditioned by catechism, philosophy and the-ology classes to have beautiful thoughts about how. God is in all things, but that few of us have ever looked long.enough at a flower to let God reveal himself as the maker of that flower for me. Before a tree can become a symbol of God, it must first be seen and touched and smelled as a tree. The first suggestion, then is that people look at and listen to what.is around them. The second suggestion is that looking at natural beauty can in itself be a way of relat!ng to the Lord without any words~being said. Just as I relate to an artist by taking interest in what he has made, by taking time to look at it or listen to it, so too I can relate to God if I take time to contemplate what he has made. Creators lik~ to have people show interest in what they have done. All the better if I like" what I ~see and smile or sigh or express ~Sanford, Agnes~ The Healing Gilts 0! the Spirit (New York: Lippincott, 1966), esp. pp. 25-32. ~In Hoey, R. F. (ed.), The Experimental Liturgy Book (N,Y.: Herder and Herder, 1969), p. 97. ' The Contemplative Attitude in Direction delight in the presence of the artist. Such responses are elicited by what I contemplate, not willed by me, and they are communications to'the artist; in the case of God they are then called prayers of praise. Tfiey do not have to be couched in "prayer language." Indeed, the prayer is often made before a word is formed. The spiritual director might then be able to point out that the responses of the directee are similar to the responses that the poet who wrote Psalm 104 must have had and then tried to express in poetry. Not everyone is a poet, but almost everyone can be thrilled by a dazzling sunset or sunrise, the sun's light on fall leaves, and so forth, and feel a. deep sense of wonder. , Thus far we have been stressing the need to look and listen, the con-templative attitude. As I contemplate, I can also have desires, one of which is that the Lord reveal himself to me while I am looking at his works. If I begin my period of contemplation with a prayer that this desire be grant.ed, then.it is liable to happgn. I do not want to rule out high mystical experi-ences--~ because they do happen and more frequently than we tend to think --but here I would rather concentrate on the more ordinary ways the Lord reveals himself in,answer to this prayer. One can be walking along the beach at night and see a touch of silver from the moon on the crest of a wave and besides delighting in it suddenly feel at peace and in someone's presence who .himself delights in such things. Unaccountably one may feel that one is still loved, even though one does drink o'r eat too much or get angry with one's community members too often or even though one has just lost one's best friend or has just been turned down for graduate school or was not elected superior or whatever, and one may feel free to face ~oneself more honestly and with less self-pity. Or a person may sense her insignificance under the stars, and yet feel her own importance in the ~whole scheme of things, Or another may Sense a call deep inside himself to change his life style. In all these instances the person may be hearing or sensing the voice of the Lord revealing himself. When these kinds of experiences are real and exciting.and challenging as well as com-forting, then the Lord has begun to take on a new reality for the person. Perhaps now he or~.she can also pay attention to him and not just to his creatures. And here may lie the dividing line between contemplating the Lord and contemplating his works. The work of the spiritual director now becomes one of helping the per-son praying to discern, that is, to figure out what is going on, what is God's voice, what not. The discernment of spirits, begins when there are inner movements and the question is: Is the Lord revealing himself, and if so, what is he saying? The genie is out of the bottle, and now it is important to follow the genie's movements. We can look at the contemplation of Scripture in a similar way. Scrip-ture is not the Lord, but a privileged place to meet him. However, one must pay attention to the Scripture itself just as one has to pay attention to trees 1126 / Review for Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 or sunsets or mountains. That is,"it is necessary to have a contemplative at-titude toward Scripture, to let the Scriptures be themselves and to listen to them and to ask that the Lord reveal himself while we are listening to these words. I do not intend ~here to delve into the arguments as to whether any other religious texts might be privileged places for meeting God; they could be and indeed people have met God while paying attention to St. Augustine's Confessions, to the prayer of St. Francis, to many other works of religious .literature, and even to secular literature. I am accepting as a given that Sgripture has primacy of place over all other literature as the Word of God. But we must listen to the Scriptures themselves, and not our projections onto them. One sometimes hears that modern scripture ,.scholarship with its de-mythologizing and its form criticism has been a blow to piety and has made it more difficult to use Scripture for prayer. Scripture scholars, it is some-times charged, have taken the mystery out of the infancy narratives of the gospels and other stories. We are not sure what Jesus actually said, or whether he actually did everything the gospels say he did. "How can we ever know him then?", people wonder. Those of us who take scripture studies and spiritual direction seriously have had to ponder these questions and charges as well as to take seriously our own and others' experiences in praying with the Scriptures. I think that we have not always been careful in our way of speaking, and it is my hope that this note will contribute to the clarification of our thought and ex-pression. , ,I want to focus on. the contemplation of the gospels and hope that the principles enunciated here can be analogously translated to the use of other scripture texts~ The first point is obvious: It does little good for prayer or Christian living to base both on a delusion. Hence, it is important to see the gospels for what they are. They are not biographies of J.esus, but four differ-ent expressions of the faith of the early Church and what it remembered in faith about Jesus. Each gospel has its own point of view, its own theo-logical focus, its own Sitz im Leben. Contemplation of°Mark's gospel, for example, means taking Mark's work on its own terms and trying to listen to his work of art. Secondly, it should be said that one need not be a Scripture scholar in order to be able to use the gospels for prayer. The Lord can still reveal him-self to someone who believes that angels actually did sing "Glory to God in the highest" at Bethlehem as long as one is open to having the living Lord reveal himself. But I do believe that the more one knows about the gospel, the better one can look at and listen to it and not to one's own cultural and personal projections of it. Thus, I believe that scripture study can be a help to contemplation. In other words, it helps, I think, to be able to con-template Mark's Jesus and know that it is Mark's Jesus and not necessarily The Contemplative Attitude in Direction / 827 the "real article" in all his historical reality. For one thing, one is not going to be thrown so much out of kilter by new discoveries of scripture scholars. More importantly, one is more likely to realize that the person one wants to meet' is not the Jesus of the past, but the present living Lord (who, of course,'is continuous with Jesus of Nazareth). Here we are at the heart of the matter. The purpose of contemplating the gospels .is to come to know the living Lord Jesus. Here again we can see the wisdom of Ignatius of Loyola. Before every contemplation of events from the gospels Ignatius has the retreatant pray for what he desires, namely "an intimate knowledge of our Lord, who has become man for me, that I may .love him more and follow him more closely.''~ Then I listen to the gospel text and treat it for what it is, as imaginative literature. I try to take the text ~seriously, and try to let it inspire my imagination, as it was written to do (as well. as to enkindle my faith). But my desire is not to know the scripture text better, but to know the risen Jesus better. I want him to reveal himself to me. And when he takes on reality and shape for me (not neces-sarily in a picture, by the way), then I talk to him, not to the text, and I listen to him, not the text. Those-who have not had this experience will not know what I am talking about, but hopefully they will be open enough to listen to the experience of those who have. The purpose of contemplation of Scripture is not to see Jesus. walking on water or to see him in Galilee or hear him say to Peter "Feed my lambs.~ The purpose is to hear the risen Jesus say to me: "Your sihs are~ forgiven,~you" and to know he means me; to hear him say to me." "Come,,follow~me.and be my friend" and.know that it is the Lord and that he is talking to me. Once again, discernment be-comes a necessity when I begin to feel moved by the Lord himself. I hope that by now it is clear that contemplation of nature or of Scrip~ ture is not in itself contemplation of the Lord, but that the former is a privileged way to the latter. Indeed, one can say that contemplation in the first sense is a technique or method, where contemplation in the second sense is relationship itself and no methods ~are needed. Finally as to the list of privileged places, it may be well to indicate that those mentioned earlier are still privileged places and also that different eras and different people may prefer one of the privileged places to others. It may also be that new privileged places may come into prominence. I am thinking especially of a shift from nature to man-made works of art or technique, a suggestion made by Josef Sudbrack, S.J? In our modern urban culture we may well find that human artifacts as well as human persons themselves may be more privileged than natural beauty. "l~here should be no difficulty here since the works of humans are ultimately God's handiwork. ~Spiritual Exercises (Puhl Translation), No. 104, p. 49. 8Sudbrack, Josef, Beten ist Menschlich: Aus der Er]ahrung Unseres Lebens mit Gott Sprechen (Freiburg in Breisgau: Herder, 1973). 828 / Review jor Religious, Volume 35~ 1976/6 On the Question of the Utility of Contemplation Recently in a discussion of contemplation someone mentioned that many people were advocating the 'techniques I have labelled contemplative for problem solving in management, for conflict resolution and that they worked without reference to God or the transcendent. That is, the contemplative techniques we mentioned in the,.earlier notes, were being used for secular purposes,, and people were feeling better, were more creative, more integral, and so forth. There is no question that the technique of contemplation by itself is very salutary. We need~ not bemoan that fact. But then what is the need to bring in God and prayer? ~ Here the only reply is to ask oneself to what end one uses contempla-tive techniques. If the answer is to solve problems, to feel better, to be more creative, then perhaps there is no need t~ refer to God and prayer. But for those for whom contact with the living Lord and the relationship itself with him are the goals, the question loses significance. It is like asking someone what he gets ,out of time spent with his wife that he could not get from others just as well. For those who seek the Lord, these techniques would be worthless no matter how good they. made them feel if in the process they did not find their Lord. Throughout.~these notes I have stressed that the purpose of contemplating nature, Scripture, or anything else is to meet the living Lord. When he is engaged, or rather when he engages me, there is no need of techniques or even of asking what the utility of prayer is. I want to be with him, and ttiat is enough. Without effort utility comes; one be-comes a better person and Christian. But relationship,is what is sought: In a Rut To get out of a rut a seed digs deeper. Edward A. Gloeggler P.O. Box 486 Far Rockaway, NY 11691 Individual Apostolates and Pluralism Community Identity in John T~I Ford, C.S.C. Fr. Fo~:d is Associate Professor of' Theology and Coordinator of Ministerial Studies in the School of Religious Studies at the Catholic University of America, WA 20064. Not too long ago, as our history is measured, the apostolic endeavors of American religious communities almost' invariably took a corporate or insti-tutional form. A typical example is the religious house all of whose members work in an adjacent school. Though there may be considerable variety in the occupations of individual religious (e.g~, ,~administration, teaching, coun-seling, maintenance, etc.), the work of;each is seen as contributing to the overall~ofunctioning of the institution. This corporate pattern is frequently paralleled in hospitals,~parishes, and other works religious communities un-dertake. ~ An.~important.consequence of this familiar pattern is aopervasive identi-fication, of religious community .with its institutions:' For example, this iden-tification is commohly reinforced through° a schedule that melds communal and institutional activities: if religious aren't working~in the institution, then they usua.!ly can be found together at some communal, activity in the near-bmyo rree sciydneinccale .h Tavhee c roemsuplatr iesd p wraitcht iicmapllryis ao n"mtoetnatl; .i nhsotwituetvieorn;.aalsi zwatiillo bne" nthoatet dthe later, a more apt.' comparison is with the communal life of the "family farm" or the "cottage industry" in agrarian societies. In brief, then, an "institutional apostolate" is a particular activity that members= of a religious community undertake as a corporate: effort; it is both a means of livelihood and a means of realizing the goals of the community. The melding of communal and institutional activities also affords a means ~f self-identity for religious. For example, the fact that religious (with 829 a30 / Review Jot Religioux, Volume 35, 1976/6 appropriate humility) speak of"'our school" is but one indication of the in-fluence of merged communal-institutional life on individual religious. Re-cently, when it has become necessary to close "our school," this identifica-tion has sometimes become painfully apparent. In other terms, the American tendency to identify a person with his occupation (e.g., John Smith is a carpenter, Mary Doe is a teacher) reached sort of a zenith in the case of religious; indeed, religious may be so identified with a particular institution that "outsiders" may not even know the proper name of the community whose members work there (e.g., "the sisters who teach at St. Mary's"). The liabilities of institutional apostolates are all too familiar. Perhaps the most burdensome is the tendency to subordinate the personal life of religious to the consuming demands of the institution. Illustrations are legion: fre-quently requests of a personal nature are refused if they are seen as inter-fering with the work of the institution (rather than as being alien to com-munity life). Another burden is an unrealistic subordination of communal life to institutional demands. While the acceptance of an institutional apos- ,tolate necessarily demands coordination with the life of the community, sometimes this is done by an additive process, as in the case of a com-munity that fulfilled its quota of religious exercises, one rapidly following another, after closing school for the day. Occasionally, the reverse happens: the requirements of an institutional apostolate are over-ruled by community procedures. An obvious, instance is the appointment of religious to in-stitutional positions for which their major qualification is membership in the sponsoring community. While post-conciliar renewal has (presumably?)caused the disappear-ance of the more conspicuous malpractices, still an inherent and recurring problem in institutional, apostolates is to maintain an appropriate balance between institutional work, living in community; and personal life. Any notable imbalance in these relationships is likely to occasion friction or dissatisfaction within a community. In addition to this perennial problem, there are other factors that have brought added pressures on institutional apostolates in recent years. For example, as a result of the post-conciliar decrease in the number of active religious, many communities have been. unable to staff their institutions in the same measure as formerly. Maintaining institutional 'commitments is seemingly so burdensome that some religious doubt the wisdom of institu-tional apostolates at all---even if their community would have sufficient personnel in the future. This feeling is frequently shared by those younger religious who are disenchanted with institutions in general and have entered religious life in view of a more personalized type of service. While this anti-institutionalism is~sometimes naively ex.aggerated, the fact remains that some communities have accepted members who simply do not identify with in-stitutional apostolates. Simultaneously new options have become available. For example, ~the Individual Apostolates and Pluralism / 831 closing of some schools has made it possible or necessary for religious to seek positions outside the educational institutions conducted by their own community. Again, recent developments in the °Church, have led to the creation of new positions that ~previously didn't exist--directors of religious education representing a common instance. And in some cases, religious have found employment in government agencies or public interest firms. An interesting relationship has emerged in many institutions of higher education. In order to qualify for governmental assistance, a legal separation has been effected between institution and sponsoring community. While the same religious may continue their apostolate within the institution, legal separation makes it incongruous for a community to continue to consider the institution "ours." The legal status of religious working in the institu-tion is also changed; for example, many religious now have contracts with institutions that were formerly controlled by theircommunities. Apparently, institutional apostolates are being "individualized." Individual Apostolates Such recent developments have led to the emergence of'a variety of "individual apostolates.''1 Here an "individual apostolate" is :taken to mean a particular occupation that a religious undertakes as a personal effort and responsibility; it is to some degree independent of the administration of the community as such; it depends more on the particular personal qualifications of the religious, not on membership in this or that community. The degree of individuality, however, may ~vary considerably: religious who continue to'work in what were formerly their community's institutions may find that legal separation is a more or less nominal change; other religious, however, may find that they have to qualify competitively for their positions. In the latter case, when a particular religious leaves an individual apostolate, the community can not expect and is not expected to furnish a replacement (as is frequently the case in institutional apostolates). An im-portant icharacteristic of individual apostolates is that the religious com-munity as such can not determine whether its members will be able to ob-tain specific positions. Speaking.of an: apostolate as "individual" does not imply that it~is in-dependent of church or community; rather (if it is to be considered an apostolate) it must be conceived in'some way as a service that witnesses to Christ and reflects the spirit of a particularjcommunity. Moreover, there is a sense in which every apostolate is "individual,". insofar as religious are individually responsible for "personifying" the Gospel in their particular occupations. l Just as some may prefer terms such as '!mission" or "ministry" in place of "aposto-late," some may prefer terms such as "special" or "experimental" to "individual." Whatever the merits of one or other term, the concern here is with the implications of the individuality of these occupations in relation to community life. 1132 / Review for Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 However, one must admits, the arbitrariness of classifying practically any occupation as an "apostolate." For example, practically any occupa-tion- from farming to fine arts, from physical education to theoretical physics--has been placed under the generic umbrella of "apostolate" in various institutions conducted by religious. Given this precedent, it seems rather arbitrary to attempt to restrict "individual apostolates" along rigid lines.: In addition, individual apostolates have long-standing precedents in most active communities: the missionary stationed alone, the student i'e-ligious living outside a community residence, the traveling .retreat-master or fund-raiser, etc. Again on the'basis of precedents, it is hard to disqualify individual apostolates on .'the ground of separation from daily community life. Or is it justifiable to consider these instances "temporary," when in fact they last for years? Or is it realistic to consider these cases .exceptions or experiments, if they involve a relatively large percentage of a com-munity? The point in raising these questions is not to object to the legitimacy of individual° apostolates in active communities? Insofar as religious rules are guidelines~ not~ absolutes,, exceptions are allowable or, at times,.nece~sary; there does not seem to be any.a priori reason why individual apostolates can not be a justifiable exception. Likewise, communities have always had to experiment in their apostolates; accordingly, individual apostolates can be seen as a new type of apostolic venture attempting to respond to con-temporary needs. Still, it is hardly adequate to treat individual apostolates merely as exceptions or experiments~ First of all, a more positive view is necessary. Individual apostolates should be seen as a development that is appropriate, perhaps necessary, if the Church is to witness to Christ in the contemporary world? Indeed', individual apostolates have already proved beneficial in some communities; for example, their existence has occasioned a much needed delineation of lines of community responsibility in relation to all apostolates. Moreover, individu~il apostolates are a means whereby com-munities, instead of being constrained to fill various slots, can utilize their personnel in more creative ways. Perhaps the most attractive aspect of indi-vidual apostolates is their challenge to religious to develop fully their talents in the service of Christ. 2The question of what constitutes app(opriat~e occupations for r.eligious parallels that of appropriate occupatior~s for priests; cf. G. Murray, "The Hyphenated Priest," R]R (~'REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS) 25 (1966), 693-702; D. Hassel, "The Priest-Expert," Chicago Studies 3 (1964), 201-225. .~Whether individual apostolates can be defended in contemplative communities is a different question; the example of Thomas Merton suggests that the possibility should not be peremptorily rejected. :*Cf. M. Rondet, ',Choices of Religious Life in a Secularized Worldi" R]R 34 (1975), 574-579. ~Individual Apostolates and Pluralism / 833 On the other hand, since individual apostolates have seemingly arisen more by indirection than by intention~ it is easy to continue the pattern of temporary expedients ~ or ad hoc experiments"without facing broader issues. For example, it may be tempting to presume that individual apos-tolates are only a passing fad that will eventually go away; yet ~what if they are really introducing a new. and, distinct.form of religious,life?~ Again, it is tempting to assume that ,there is little difference.,~between religious, life for those in individual apostolates and those in institutional, apostolates; accordingly, the ~same mo~lel of religious' 'life should prevail in both. But what if there ,is-need for a new type of balance between occupation, re-ligiouslife, and personal life-style in individual apostolates? " The impl!cations of individual apostolates for religious life have been emerging, ,.like ~the apostolates themselves, only piecemeal. Though only partially apparent, these~implications need to be examined, for they poten- .tially constitute the raw material for either crisis or creativity---~r more ljk61y, a bit,of both. In other words,, a pattern is being established that affects,not only'the individual religious involved,,but the commumty as a whole~ For example, a relatively high proportion'of members in some communities is currently engaged in individual apostolates; even were it desirable to withdraw mem- .bets' from individual apostolates,.,it may no longer be feasible to do so without serious disruption (viz. problems in re-assignment, budget, resi-dence, etc.). Somewhat incongruously~ individual apostolates seem to have reached a point of institutionalization! On .the theoretical level, v~hat is at issue is a community's self-vision and self-identity. On the practical level is a complex of questions relating to the implementation of thi~ vision and the fostering of community identity Theoretical Level: A New Vision? Whatever the imbalances in institutional apostolates, they offer religious a sense of identity: "our community working in our restitution:" Quite commonly this sense of corporate identity ~s reinforced by a vision of religious life as a continual harmony of prfiyer ~nd Work, of w~or.k and prayer. Indeed, the identification of community and° institution, suggests something of an equation of,communal prayei and institutional work. If this'vision of religious~life was on~ convincingly painted in the novi-ti~ ite, such an interlocking matrix of p~ra~,er and work seems' alien 'to many religiohs today. The loss c~f this vision may'6ccasi6n feelings of ~talgia for a vision now blurred and a rhythm of. activity now. disjointed. Yet before ~Cf. R. Faricy, "Change in the Apostolic Religious Life," RIR" 34 (1975), 413-414. for a description of the "demonasticization of,apostolates." Should individual aposto-lates be seen as the cutting edge of this centrifug~al movement away from monasti-cism? o ' 834 / Review ]or Religious, l/olume~ 35, 1976/6 indulging guilt4eelings ab'rut, visions lost, it would be well to ask whether the vision is worth recapturing at all . . The vision of religious life as harmonious integration of prayer and work seems to presuppose a double model: a sociological model of an agrarian society coupled with a theological model of a divinely regulated universe.6 While an agrarian model may seem medieval, perhaps the. proximate in-fluence is the American frontier ideal of the self-sufficient family farm. Questions of historical origin aside, an agrarian model seems more influen~- tial in religious.life than is commonly acknowledged. For example, most religious communities were originally founded within agrarian societies; more importantly, an agrarian ideal of .community seems to survive in the expectations, of many religious. Indeed, one may suspect that efforts to "return to the spirit of the founder" may on occasion be similar to the flight from urban life and its mounting frustrations: a yearning for :a simpler life may be nostalgia for the benefits of an agrarian society. Or again, the once common practice of establishing houses of frrmation in rural settings ("where religious life could be lived at its ideal"), reflects something of the ideal of a self,sufficient family farm. Examples could be multiplied; varia-tions on the agrarian model could be added (e.g., religious~ community as "cottage industry" or "ethnic village," etc.). It seems worth noting the similar melding ~of work and communal life that characterizes both agrarian societies and institutional apostolates. Fitting: neatly with an agrarian model of religious :communityqs a the-ological :model Of a well regulated universe: iu~t as the universe is har-moniously ordered in every detail by an inherent set.of laws enacted by a provident God, so too is the religious community harmoniously regulated in every detail by a set of rules provided by ~a diyinely guided founder and subsequently administered, by omniscient superiors.7 While this is blatant caricature, it should be-remembered that every caricature hits uncomfortably close to life¯ ¯ Both models have become theoretically untenable. The~ agrarian model ~;Many different models have been used to explain the transition from one vision or world-view to another: for example, T. Nuij, "New Forms of Community Life," R]R 32 (1973), 59-64, coniraSts commtlnity in primitive, rural or pre-technological, and technological or industrial cultures. Among the abundant literature on this transition, cf. T. O'Meara, Holiness and Radicalism in Religious Lile (New York~ 1972); G. Moran, The. New Community (New York, 1970); L. Schaller, hnpact o[ the Future and The Change Agent (Nashville-Ne~ Yo.rk, 1969 and 1972, respectively); R. Weg-mann, "The Catholic Clergy and Change," Cross Currents i9 (1969), i78-197. The well-known works of C. Reich, The Greet,ing o! America (New York, 1971) and A. Toffler, Future Shock (New York, 1970) offer additional models and numerous illustrations. rThe influence of another model, the church as institution; is also evident; on the advantages~ and.~ limitations of 'this and. other ecclesiological models, cf. A. Dulles, Models o[ the Church (Garden City, New York, 1974). !t would be helpful to have a similar analysis of models of religious life. ~ Individual A,postolates and Pluralism / 835 is_Ansufficient in view of the complexity of urban, technological soCiety, while the theological model of-a s~,stematically directed universe is inade- - quate in the face of historical consciousness and philosophical pluralism. Accordingly, neither of these models .provides a suitable framework for a vision, of religious life. Nbnetheless, there is one reason ~for their tengcious survival:¢ they undoubtedly furnish a sense of security. It is ~spiritually reassuring to devote one's entire day in a harmonious blend of prayer and work dedicated to God: could a fervent religious want more? For some religious, then, the h'armonious vision is quite satisfying. For others, othe ~vision may~be~ feeble, but they are willing to live with;incon-sistency, because they are unable or unwilling to search for a new vision. If~a few havediscovered a new vision, many others are still searching. Aside from the fact that it is far easier to criticize a vision-become-problematic than to construct a replacement, visions are elusive and difficult to verbal-ize. More than likely, discussions within a community do notdebate visions but center on practical issues: traditional procedures versus new approaches. It is tempting, for example; to treat individual apostolates merely as another practical problem. Yet touch'more is at stake: competing visions of com-munity and apostolate that stand at the heart of personal and corporate self-identity. Not surprisingly, the .response to new visions has been varied. First of all, some would prefer to re-upholster the traditional vision by discard-ing out-dated elements" and .super-imposing sundry modern touches. Change is then cosmetic: the superficial appearance is different, but the funda-mental vision remains the same. Nevertheless, there are definite ad-vantages to this approach: it affords cor~tinuity with the past--a matter of concern to older members; it accommodates itself to new circumstances.--- a mattef of importance for younger members; and it introduces, ch~inges gradually sb that there is sufficient time to become accustomed to one set of changes before more_ are introduced--a matter of expediency in all social changes. Yet such an option Carries with it a'notable liability: it relies on a vision that is basically unattractive and unacceptable to many. ~ ~ ¯ Nonetheless-, the right of a community to take this option must be respected, for it may be the only option that a particular community can really live with.8 To follow an out-dated vision may not be wise, but it need not be wrong.dn fact, the attempt to .jerk away an apparent Linus blanket from those committed to a traditional vision is likely to be disrup-tive of both community and apostolate? .Without arbitrarily precluding the o sit might be well to develop a declaration of rights for religious similar to Vatican II's Declaration on Religious Freedom. '~Th6 hazards of adopti0g a new vision are forcefully, though stridently, indicated by J. Hitchcock, The.Decline and Fall o~ Radical:~Cbtholicism (New York, 1971); with-out accepting his viewpoint, one can still~adna!t the need for facing straightforwardly his criticisms. 83b / Review for Religious, Vrlume 33, 1976/6 possibility of future change, a community may.decide very realistically and very,' honestly that its capacity for renewal can only accomplish so much at~a ~iven moment of its history. Communities that decide to retain a traditional vision of community and'apostolate would be well advised not to"eng~ge any of their members in,individual, apostolates that require a life-styl~ that'is basically incompatible with the community,s traditional, vision and thus 'threaten its ~corporate identity. The predictable resulr~'would be serious dissension that.:the, com~ mfihity .may not be prepared to bear:~Yet this need not imply that such communities need to exclude ever~ type of individual.apostolate; what is implied is that~each proposed individual apostolate must be carefully ex-amined for its concordance.with the community's self-vision and self-identity. ,, The Problem, of Pluralism : If the traditional vision is~unattractiw or untenable, what is the new vision of ~community and apostolate? The ~option would be simple~ if a compelling new vision were~ at hand;'then at least-the choice would be.~ clear-cut: traditional or new. Unfortunately there is no one unifying vision that demands acceptance. If it is quite clear that modern life is techno-logical not agrarian, pluralistic not uniform, it is not clear how such aspr'cts .can be synthesized in a new vision. Instead of one new vision, there are~ any number of competing visions--each with advantages~ all'with their respective liabilities. The way to the future seems tobe: may. the best vision win! It is then quite understandable why many religious prefer to hold on to the~ vision they have, whatever.its deficiencies, rather than risk'the vague uncertainties of some apparently more problematic replacement. It is equally understandable why many other religious tend to hedge their op-tions ,by tentatively exploring new possibilities, while keeping a firm'grasp on,a traditional vision. Still., just as a diversity of liturgical practices and theological viewpoints has emerged in. the post-conciliar Church, so a similar diversity in life-styles and visions of community and apostolate has emerged in post-conciliar religious life. This ~variety is rooted in a greater theological awareness of the diversity in the mystery of Christ, the uniqueness of each person, and the temporal and cultural plurality of mankind.~° Where formerly uniformity was prized,as exemplifying the uhity of the Church, now pliJralism is seen as reflecting the Church's catholicity. Yet if it is easy~to pay lip-service to pluralism, it is much more difficult ~°Cf. E. Carter, "Pluralism in Christian Life," R[R 31 .(1972), 22~26; K. Rahner~ "Pluralism in Theology and the Oneness of the Churchs' Professiono o~ Faith," Con~ cilium 46: 103.123; A. Dulles', "Dogma as an Ecumenical Problem,'" 'Theological S~udies 29 (1968),~ 397-416 (reprinted in Dulles! The~'Survival ot Dogma [Garden City, New York, 1971], pp. 152-170). ,Individual Apostolates and Pluralism / 837~ to cope consistently with its implications. For example, some religious have adopted new life-styles, but have not related these to a new vision; and vice versa, new visions 'have been officially adopted in constitutions and rules without subsequent implementation in a community. ~ More importantly, the transition from uniformity to pluralism is both threatening~and enticing. Those who were trained for, or are congenitally inclined to, a life of uniformity and regularity can be severely confused by a,superabundan~e of choices and°the burden of responsibility inherent in a pluralistic situation:~°For example, obedience seems to furnish an excuse for some religious to become over-dependent on their superiors; or vice versa, obedience seems to allow some superiors to pre-empt most decision-making from their subordinates. If some r~ligious pale at pluralism~ it may be the threat of responsibilities that they are unwilling or unable to, bear; similarly, if some ~superiors resent pluralism, it may be through unwilling-ness to share their authority with former subordinates. Another dismaying aspect of pluralism is the potential loss, of com-munity support-systems; when familiar practices vanish, religious ma~' feel themselves ostracized from the group or isolated in their work. Change ih any form is unsettling to creatures of habit, but clinging to a traditional pattern may result in isolation. Since the prospect of losing the respect and understanding of one's companions is~unnervihg, pluralism can prove to be just as formidable to younger religious as to older. In the case of the younger, ,it can be the refusal to adopt the ~vision currently in vogue among their peers. Yet if pluralism ig threatening; it is also attractive. In place of the enervating burden of predictable routine there is the prospect of flexibility and variety in both communal and ~ apostolic life. Religious life is more easily seen as a challenging opportunity for'personal initiative and creativity in the service of Christ. For example, obedience may be seen~ as a commit-ment to Christ that takes the form of submitting one's proposed activities tO the critical encouragement and the charismatic~ evaluation of one's col-leagues; authority is pr!marily that of competent advice; ultimate responsi-bility is one's own before Christ and community. But such a revised view of~ obedience has to be accepted, not ~ofily by the individual but by the community, which may have fo ask whether it can function with a number of different and divergent views of obedience. Another attractive aspect of pluralism is the atmosphere which~ the community provi~tes religious for developing their self-potefitial both in their lives as Christians and in ~their apostolates; this implies a willingness and openness in sharing insights and successes, failures and feelings; in-deed, the diversity of apostolates undertaken by their colleagues can be-c~ me an incentive for religious to Work at~maximum capacity. The preceding contrast exemplifies some of the positive and negative aspects of pluralism. The examples may also help explain why individuals 838 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 react quite differently to the prospect of pluralism: some feel threatened; others are attracted; still others would like to have the advantages of both uniformity and pluralism without the liabilities of either.11 Insofar as pluralism seems to have emerged within religious life more as the result of a series of individual decisions and external trends than through precise planning for pluralism, its implications need attention. Earlier, pluralism in religious life tended to exist more as a collective phe-nomenon: different communities constituted a diversified spectrum of "catholic" religious life, but any one community tended to occupy only a section of this spectrum; each community enjoyed a fairly well specified corporate apostolic identity. The importance attached to this identity-via-apostolate is illustrated by the fact that some communities (even when personnel was available) refused to undertake certain apostolates, as incompatible with their constitutions; as a result, some communities originated as off-shoots of others, when a new apostolate was needed which the parent community felt unable to enter. "Of course, some communities have always allowed greater internal diversity than others. For example, if some communities have restricted their endeavors to one or two specific apostolates, others have undertaken a variety. At first sight, individual apostolates appear to be simply an exten-sion of this variety. And in fact, this seems to be the way most individual apostolates have come about: superiors have allowed individual religious to accept experimental apostolates as exceptions to accustomed practices. In fact, these exceptions have gradually reached the point in some com-munities- where a comparatively high percentage of members is involved; in some instances, proportionately more members are now in individual apostolates than are in some traditional ones. In effect, the exceptions appear to be constituting a new rule, though there is not always a new vision to accompany it. Thus, the introduction of individual .apostolates may precipitate a re-orientation of a community's self-vision and self-identity. In other words, individual apostolates seem to imply the acceptance of a plurality of visions, only some of which are com-patible with traditional vision(s). The basic question then is: to what extent is a community really willing to accept the implications of pluralism? Practical Options A community's Vision of its apostolate(s) is a vital element in its cor-por. ate identity; presumably its apostolic vision is an important factor in attracting, applicants ,and in training younger membersi presumably too, 11The reaction of any person to pluralism seems to involve a number of intertwined factors--personality, intelligence, education, age, occupation, etc.--so that it is im-possible to predict an individual's receptivity.to pluralism. Nor is receptivity~ merely a matter of age; the contrast "traditional-pliJralistic" is not identical with older versus younger~ Also, one may doubt whether it is possibl6 'to foster pluralism simply through instruction~ Individual Apostolates and Pluralism /839 apostolic vision is an essential motivation for the special spirit and dy-nainism of a community. Moreover, apostolic vision is necessary if a community is to avoid being victimized by the needs of the moment and to pla.n its activities on a long range basis. It is crucial, then, for a com- ~iinity to delineate its apostolic vision as clearly as possible, while recog-nizing that every option involves risk.1~ ,~ first option is for a community to continue its institutional aposto-late( s) as~ its primary and (probably) exclusive commitment. Presuming of course that its institutions are really viable, the most-compelling motive for this option can be found in the fact that this is what the membership recognizes as its proper charism and commits itself to do. The evident risk is that this option is not particularly appealing to those who want to work in a more personalized setting; thus, recruitment of new members and dis-satisfaction among present members could well be problems. Moreover, this option may yield to the temptation to abandon the struggle to live a religious life in the modern pluralistic world. The polar-oppbsite' is the option to make individual apostolates the primary and presumably exclusive emphasis in a community.~As a means of responding to challenges facing the Church in the modern world, thisop-tion presupposes considerable flexibility in community structures as well as Considerable self-reliance on the~part of individual religious. These pre-sumed strengths may be dissipated through excessive individualism on the one hand or through lack of traditional support-systems on. the other. While a few commuriities," or at least some segments .of communities, appear to be headed in the direction of this option, what may really be at stake is the creation of new communities (even though the present may not seem a particularly auspicious moment for new found~tiofis). L oA compromise between these two options is the attempt to. juxtapose ¯ institutional and individual apostolates. In greater or less degree, this is theo~present option of many active communities in the United States. In-deeid, it seems to be a typical bit of American pragmatism for a community to allow its members to dream different visions, to work in diffe~rent settings, oani:l, yet to unite, together as members of one family. If such diversity defies theoretical alignment, American religious will presumably be content, as long as their community lives and works harmoniously, however diversely. Compromise will tend to succeed as long .as religious are genuinely tolerant of the inevitable tensions that diversity introduces. The unavoidable risk is that s'uch a compromise will become unglued for example, through a wide-spread failure to fulfill responsibilities both in apostolates and in religious life, through favoritism or factionalism introduced when one group attempts to impose its views on others, or through the difficulty of attracting new members to a pluralistic life. r-'Cf, the interesting interview with a superior,general, C. Buttimer, "Is Religious Life Viable Today?" America 128/4 (February 3, 1973), 86-90. 840 / Review Ior Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 If compromise is to be successful, it is important for the members of a community~ explicitly to recognize the terms of the compromise. In other words, if the tensions arising from diversity in visions and a variety of life-styles are not to. be divisive, a community needs to recognize and to ,accept a spectrum of variant models of apostolic endeavor and of, community life. A community should specify the extent of pluralism that it is capable of tolerating. For example, some communities may be ,open to any type of individual apostolate; others may wish to restrict themselves~ tO select types. Without prior specification or evaluation, .there is potential for arbitrary decision-making, either real or imagined; there is also the likelihood of disillusionment among members if their expectations, ,whether realistic or idealistic, are :not met. (Disillusionment can affect both those who expect the traditional apostolates to be maintained, as well as~ those who, want ind~ividual apostolates to be introduced.) . ~ ~ The acceptance of pluralism should eventually. 'be expressed in bbth the constitutionS, which describe a community's aprstolic vision, and in the rules,~which attempt to concretize this vision in the life.of a community. Such, formulation is .a difficult endeavor, as the revisions undertaken after Vatican II amply confirm.13 Moreover, the emergence of individual aposto-lates adds to the.complexity: first, since the vision is pluralistic and personal, constitutions apparently can do little more than generalize about the limit-points of the pluralism that is acknowledged in principle~ secondly, if rules presumably reflect the lived experience of a community over a period of ¯ time, individual apostolates, in their present form, ar~ both recent and .still .experimental. Accordingly, .different communities may choose .to accept individual apostolates .in rather different ways. Some communities may find it feasible to consider tliem as extensions of existing apostolates; for example, a com-munity., whose apostolate is in education may decide to restrict the ac-ceptance of individual apostolates to educational endeavors. Other com-munities, which have defined their apostolates in terms of specific groups (e.g., poor,~ unevangelized, ethnic, etc.) may allow individual apostolates as a broadening of their ministry to these groups. Still other communities may encourage any~,type of new individual apostolate that displays some relation to witnessing Christ in the modern world.' At least as crucial as express recognitio,n of individual apostolates~ in :constitutions and rules is the way religious regard such formulations. For some, rules are principles that must be uniformly applied in partiCular in-stance. s; others would view rules as determinations that are to be supple-mented and emended according to actual experience. This contrast is given visual form,,in the first case, by those rules that are published in leather-l'~ Cf. J.l_~zano, "Revision of the Constitutions: Meaning, Criteria, and Problems," R]R 34 (1975), 525-534. Individual Apostolates and Pluralism / 841 bound, red-edged volumes resembling miniature Bibles; in the second.case, rtiIes migtit well be mimeographed on loose-leaf sheets and placed in folders to facilitate periodic revision and up-dating. At least this illustration may indicate tha~t attempting to specify'rules for a diversity of individual aposto-lates is a ~tenuous enterprise. In addition, it suggests that traditional rules; however well suited to institutional apostol~ites, should not simply be used as .an umbrella to cover the new situations encountered in individual aposto-lates. Since uniform rules for individual apostolates tend to be anomalous in theory and impractical in"fact, it seems necessary for commuifities whose members are engaged in individual apostolates to develop new approaches: It may well bethat'a community may decide to'formulate guidelines for community or .procedures~for administration or standards .for~professional life for those members in individual apostolates. In so doing, a community will need to face squarely both the advantages and the draffbacks that are encountered in attempting to live and work with quite different 'types of apostolates and life-styles within tile same community. o In any pluralistic situation, it is obviously impossible to lis't all the variables; yet it may be helpful to saml~le a few problem areas: administra-tive procedures, community life, and personal freedom. Administrative Procedures In the halcyon days of institutional apostolates, administration .may have been tedious, but it f~equently had the advantage of following a,stan-dard pattern of applying general norms to particular cases. This '.view. of administration is inadequate for dealing with individual apostolates (and, it should be added, With most institutional apostolates as-well). On the one"hand, individual apostolates tend to elude uniform norms, unless these a~'e~,extremely general; on the other hand, individual apostolates necessarily change the roles of and relationship between superiors and subordinates; This change in, roles" is graphically illustrated by the religious who occa-sionally employed the provincial' superior on a part-time basis. A prime factor in the:reorientation of roles is the fact that in most indi- .vidual apostolates, religious .need a fair amount of latitude to negotiate with prospective employeis and that, ~once employed, their work is not under, the direct supervision of community superiors. As a result; a superior's role tends to be narrowed to antecedent approval (for it is frequently unfeasible, if not counterproductive, for a superior to become involved in negotiations) ¯ and subsequent ratification, which may,be tantamount to rubber-stamping a iait accompli. Some superiors may find this process quite congenial; they have plenty of other problems and are quite relieved if some religious can successfully pursue their individu~ apostolates without supervision. Other superiors may feel more or less frustrated at wanting .to be helpful yet not being needed or at wanting to give daily directives yet being powerless; they may subcon- Review Ior Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 sciously resent the apparent diminution of their authority. All of these reactions manifest, a lack of appreciation of the change in roles in the superior-subordinate relationship. If it is unrealistic to expect to transfer a set of relationships en masse from institutional to individual apostolates, what then is the role of the superior in relation to religious in this context? First of all, a superior has to take seriously the individuality of each apostolate as well as the personality of each religious; in effect, each apos-tolate must be considered as a separate and somewhat unique case, just as each religious ~is a unique individual. Instead of applying general norms to individual cases, a reverse process is needed: whether and how general principles apply needs to be discovered through an evaluation of each apostolate. The latter task can only be carried out as a joint effort of supe-rior and subordinate, acting as colleagues. . Accordingly, the role of the superior is less a matter of issuing com-mands and more a matter of fostering dialogue, discernment, and discre-tion. 14 Dialogue is necessary if the superior is to understand different apos-tolates from the viewpoint of participant religious; though this does not necessarily imply that a participant's view is always the best, still it should at least be the point of departure for productive discussion. Discernment, in the sense of raising appropriate questions to evaluate the potential, and performance for an individual apostolate, must also be a joint endeavor if the merits and disadvantages of a particular apostolate are to be appreci-ated. Discretion, which aims at deciding on an appropriate course of action among a number of alternatives, should also be shared; it is pointless to impose a decision that one cannot or will not be implemented. Obviously, such an approach to community administration requires a more personal type of communication than may have been customary in the supervision of institutional apostolates. Where a large number of indi-vidual apostolates are involved, such an approach may require that super-visory responsibilities be divided among more than one superior. Effective use of such an approach demands that superiors be skilled in interpersonal communication; in practice, this may mean that other administrative tasks, such as financial management, may have to be delegated to others. If a new administrative approach is required for individual apostolates, no approach is a panacea. While a more personal approach may be more human and hopefully more productive, both superiors and subordinates should realize that there is no advance assurance that their discussion will prove fruitful: if ~dialogue can result in agreement, it also may make any disagreement painfully evident; if discernment can raise crucial questions, l~One of the reasons-that dialogue, discernment, and discretion have become m~ajor concerns in post-conciliar renewal is linked to increased recognition of religious as persons; an added reason for the importance of these means here is the individuality of apostolates. Individual Apostolates and Pluralism / 843 it may also end in self-contented deception; if discretion can aid in deter-mining appropriate action, it is also an arbitrary selection among alterna-tives. There is no method that as such will guarantee success. For example, one question that dispels any roseate vie

Issue 68.2 of the Review for Religious, 2009. ; Mission and Ministry Renewing Religious Traditions Reviewing Outward Signs QUARTERLY 68.2 2009 Review for Religious fosters dialogu~e withGod, dialogue with ourselves~: and dialogue with one another about the holiness we try to live according ~ iocharisms of~Catholic religiouslif¢. As Pope Paul Vl said, our way of being Church is todqy the way of dialogue. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034o639X) 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-Mail: 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 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. ©2009 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any inaterial (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 Catholic ~pir~ual~y Editor Associate Editor Canonical Counsel Scripture Scope Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming sJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Eugene Hensell OSB Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp . Paul Coutinho sJ Martin Erspamer OSB Margaret Guider OSF Kathleen HughesRSCJ Louis and Angela Menard Bishop Terry Steib SVD QUARTERLY 68.2 2009 contents prisms 116 Prisms 118 132 144 mission and ministry ~ ~_ Paul's Dynamic Mission Principle,s: A Missioner's Reflection James H. Kroeger MM shares with us ten "mission principles" valid for Paul of Tarsus and for today's Pauls as well--the result of his own reflections as a missionary and a meditative reading of St. Paul. Personal Reflection and/or Group Discussion A Franciscan Approach to Ministry Daniel P. Horan OFM ~eflec~s on Francis of Assisi's life and writings and suggests that the five characteristics that emerge provide a helpful parad!grn for all pastoral ministers in the church. Personal Reflection and/or Group Discussion Discipleship and Walking by Faith Damian C. Ilodigwe, along with Abraham and the apostle Thomas, shows that discipleship needs deep faith daily. Review for Religious 152 168 renewing religious traditions Reparation and the Sacred Heart: A New Intrepretation Virginia M. Herbers ASCJ suggests a new understanding of reparation which speaks to the lived reality of the Body of Christ in a global community as well as to the Christian mission to live a life of service. Being Heard, Being Healed: Learning from the Quaker Tradition James H. Schimelpfening SM shares his refreshing experience of community that came from a series of six seasonal retreats based on the Quaker tradition and the work of Parker Palmer. Personal Reflection and/or Group Discussion 181 192 reviewing outward signs Religious Habits Reconsidered Doris Gottemoeller RSM looks over changes of habit and other changes and raises some thoughtful questions about what is now past, having been passed with a view to the future. On Wearing a Habit, from My Perspective Patricia McCarthy CND shares her experience of responding to God's grace in giving witness to her religious consecration in order to help us all to question our freedom in responding to God's grace in our own call. departments 204 Scr.ipture Scope: The Gospel of St. Paul 208 Canonical Counsel: Response to the Role of Law in the Church 214 Book Reviews 68.2 2009 prisms 116 T celebration of the Pauline Year has stimulated a large number of books on the person and writings of St. Paul. As a theologian I have been most taken by the importance of the Holy Spirit in Paul's Letters. In dogmatic development, it will take a few centuries before the church can articulate a theology of the Trinitarian God, and so Paul's writings about the working of the Spirit are all the more arresting. One of the titles that we give to the Holy Spirit in our Nicene creed is "Giver of life." That title is one of the best summaries for how Paul describes the Spirit in the life of the individual Christian and of the Christian community. In his Letter to Titus, Paul makes a summary statement about how much the Spirit is truly the Giver of life. "[God] saved us through the bath of rebirth and renewal by the Holy Spirit, whom he richly poured out on us through Jesus Christ our savior." Through the image of the Spirit being poured out, all the specifics of this new life find their font. Early on in his First Letter to the Corinthians, Paul asks "Do you not know that you are the temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwells in you?" He then goes on to say "for the temple of God, which you are, is holy." But Paul becomes more creative and copious in his description of the Spirit's gifts when he employs the image of the human body. That we all are members of the Body R~vie~ for Religious of Christ receives its most detailed description in this Letter of Paul's. We are all baptized into the one Body in the one Spirit. The Spirit is the Giver of the many different kinds of spiritual gifts, and at the same time "to each individual the manifestation of the Spirit is given for some benefit" (1 Co 12:7). What we might take for granted, Paul assures us, is the Spirit's gift. Paul's example is "No one can say 'Jesus is Lord' except by the Holy Spirit" (1 Co 12:3). Surely our sacramental words, "I absolve you," "this is my Body," "I baptize you," are Spirit-filled and Spirit-given words. But more simply, our expressed desires--"teach me to pray," "Lord, for-give me," "Lord, here I am"--are the continuing daily pouring out of gifts of the Spirit. That the total health of the Body depends on each and every one of us being open to the gifts of the Spirit and so sharing this divine life remains central to Paul's theology of the Spirit's gift-ing both to the individual Christian and to the Christian community. In Paul's Letter to the Romans we receive the rich-est understanding of our prayer as Christians. "The Spirit too comes to the aid of our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but the Spirit itself intercedes with inexpressible groanings" (Rm 8:26). Our very effort to pray--sometimes feeling so dry and empty--is always a gift of the Spirit. Perhaps our own sense of futility in praying excites the gifting of the Spirit's groans within us all the more, and within the groanings of the community praying as well. Paul's insight gives us consolation in our daily effort to pray. From these few examples, perhaps we will be stirred to greater gratitude for Paul's own gift of in.sight into the Spirit as the Giver of life as we celebrate.the Pauline Year. David L. Fleming SJ 117 68.2 2009 mission and JAMES H. KROEGER Paul's Dynamic Mission Principles: A Missioner's Reflection ministry The apostle Paul is considered the greatest missionary of all time. He is called the Apostle of the Gentiles since he was mainly responsible for the spread of Christianity into the Gentile world. The church owes much to Paul for its growth; he pioneered its early expansion by his mission labors and his theological reflection. A brief synopsis of Paul's life includes the following approximate chronology: 5-10 (birth at Tarsus), 15-20 (studies in Jerusalem), 36 (conversion), 36-39 (Damascus, Arabia, Jerusalem), 39-43 (Tarsus), 43-44 (Antioch), 44-48 (first missionary journey), 49-50 (Council of Jerusalem; Antioch confrontation with Peter), 49-53 (second missionary journey), James H. Kroeger MM, a missionary in Asia (Philippines and Bangladesh) since 1970, is professor of systematic theology, missiology, and Islamics at the Loyola School of Theology; Ateneo de Manila University; Katipunan Avenue, Loyola Heights; Quezon City 1108; Philippines. jkroeger@admu.edu.ph 53-58 (third missionary journey), 58-60 (prisoner in Caesarea), 60-63 (voyage to Rome, prisoner in Rome), 64-66 (Spain? Rome? elsewhere?), 66-67 (prisoner in Rome), 67/68 (death in Rome). This brief chronology provides the context from which Paul's dynamic mission principles emerge; they are the result of both mission praxis and deep theological reflection. Paul's letters and the Acts of the Aposdes provide much insight into Paul's missionary thinking and methods. Over the centuries many authors have tried to digest Paul's mission thought and praxis, emphasizing the "central ideas" of this aposde. This effort may be admi-rable, but can result in a certain selectivity. Thus, this author is chary of claiming to capture the "essence" of Paul's insights. One cannot compose a "CliffsNotes" or abbreviated version of Paul's thought. His letters were written over a span of ten years; they were based on a lengthy ministry of preaching the gospel message in an extraordinary variety of circumstances and to diverse groups of people. Readers, consider this pie.ce a long-term ad gentes missionary's :personal reflections based on a medita-tive reading of St. Paul. Through an interaction of this writer's personal experience and the profound thought of Paul, ten "mission principles" took form. Emerging from Paul's life and refracted through the experience of a contemporary missioner, these insights are, I think, valid for the church's missionary activity today, twenty centuries after Paul's birth. Depth Awareness of Vocation. In Paul's mind there was no iota of doubt about his calling, his vocation; for Paul and all missioners, mis-sion originates in the call of God. Several passages in the 68.2 2009 Kroeger ¯ Paul's Dynamic Mission Principles book of Acts portray this: "The Lord said to [Ananias], 'Go, because this man [Paul] is my chosen instrument to bring my name before Gentiles'" (Ac 9:15). "The God of our ancestors has chosen you . . . because you are to be his witness before all humanity, testifying to what you have seen and heard" (Ac 22:14-15). "I have appeared to you for this reason: to appoint you as my servant and as witness of this vision in which you have seen me" (Ac 26:15). In addition, the majority of Paul's letters begin with a firm assertion of his identity as a chosen instrument of God. "From Paul . . . an apostle who does not owe his authority to men or his appointment to any human being, but who has been appointed by Jesus Christ and by God the Father who raised Jesus from the dead" (Ga 1:1-2). "From Paul, a servant of Christ Jesus who has been called to be an apostle, and specially chosen to preach the Good News" (Rm 1:1). Several other let-ters begin with almost the same words: "From Paul, appointed by God to be an apostle of Christ Jesus" (2 Co 1:1); see also 1 Co 1:1, Ep 1:1, Col 1:1, Ph 1:1, and others. Writing to the Corinthians about Christ's resur-rection, Paul categorically states: "I am the least of the apostles; in fact, since I persecuted the church of God, I hardly deserve the name apostle; but by God's grace that is what I am, and the grace that he gave me has not been fruitless" (1 Co 15:9-10). Radical Commitment to Christ. Paul's experience on the Damascus road was, in fact, only the starting point of a lifelong relationship; mission envisions a totally Christ-centered life. Paul expresses this in various ways: "Life to me, of course, is Christ" (Ph 1:21). "None of us live to ourselves, and none of us die Review for Religious to ourselves. If we live, we live to the Lord, if we die, we die to the Lord; so then, whether we live or whether we die, we are the Lord's" (Rm 14:7-8). "I have been crucified with Christ, and I live now not with my own life, but with the life of Christ who lives in me" (Ga 2:19-20). All of Paul's writings speak of his love for Christ, his identification with Christ. So intimate was his rela-tionship that he could even advise the Corinthians: "Imitate me as I imitate Christ" (1 Co 11:1). Paul tells the Thessalonians that they can follow his example: "You observed the sort of life we lived when we were with you, which was for your instruction; you were led to become imitators of us and of the Lord" (1 Th 1:5-6). Paul, writing to the Philippians, makes a moving com-parison of his previous life to his newfound existence in Christ: "I believe nothing can happen that will out-weigh the supreme advantage of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For him I have accepted the loss of everything, and I look on everything as so much rubbish if only I can have Christ and be given a place in him" (Ph 3:8-9). Voluntary Acceptance of Suffering Not relying on words alone, the apostle Paul preached the gospel by his life and example. In a par-ticular way, vulnerability and acceptance of the cross authen-ticate mission. In imitation of Christ who gave himself up to death even for sinners (Rm 5:8), Paul considers his suffering for the sake of the gospel to be a participa-tion in Christ's sufferings (2 Co 1:5-7). Paul saw him-self as sharing in Christ's kenosis (Ph 2:6-11). Writing to Timothy he says: "Join with me in suffering for the gospel, relying on the power of God, who saved us and called us with a holy calling" (2 Tm 1:8-9). 121 68.2 2009 Kroeger ¯Paul'$ Dynamic Mission Principles Paul recounts his numerous trials in the service of the gospel; he mentions his imprisonments, beatings, shipwrecks, travels, robberies, hard labor, sleeplessness, hunger, thirst, and nakedness (see 2 Co 11:23-27). Paul also mentions that he had to bear "a thorn in the flesh" (2 Co 12:7). Yet, he notes, "I am quite content with my weaknesses, and with insults, hardships, persecutions, and the agonies I go through for Christ's sake. For it is when I am weak that I am strong" (2 Co 12:10). Of course, this vulnerability is intimately linked with the paradox of the cross: "Continually we carry in our bod-ies the.dying of Jesus, so that in our bodies the life of Jesus may also be revealed" (2 Co 4:10). Like Paul, all missionaries need to say, "May I never boast of anything but the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ" (Ga 6:14). Insightful Mission Methods One can affirm that all Paul's energies were mission-focused, yet one can also point out that he employed dis-tinct methods to achieve his purposes. Mission demands creative, inculturated, ever-renewed approaches to evange-lization. Paul sought various occasions which would facilitate his proclamation; he attempted to connect his preaching with people's daily lives and worldview. Paul's approach at Ephesus (Ac 19) is exemplary; he would preach in a synagogue or a nearby house and attempt to link th~ Jewish faith with Christian revelation (see Ac 13:5 & 14, 14:1, 17:1). Acts 17:22-31 narrates Paul's famous speech in the Areopagus, the central assembly place in Athens, the cultural capital of the Greek islands. Paul mentions their altar to an unknown god; he refers to the philoso-pher- poet Epimenides (vv. 23 & 28). Although many mocked Paul, his intelligent method won some followers Revie~v for Religious for Christ. Paul, the "practical" missioner, moved from the familiar to the unfamiliar, from the unknown to the known. Pope John Paul II has exhorted missionaries to move into new mission frontiers, "the modern equiva-lents of the Areopagus" (Redemptoris missio, §37). Paul's missionary sensitivities are manifested in his conviction that adaptation (inculturation, in today's parlance) is essential when mission meets a new situa-tion (Ac 15). He vigorously opposed the imposition of Jewish legal traditions, cultural observations, or external religious practices on Gentile Christians; these could hinder the spread of the gospel into the Gentile world. Paul even withstood James in Jerusalem (Ac 15) and Peter in Antioch (Ga 2:11-14). Paul articulates his "inculturated" method of becom-ing "all things to everyone" (1 Co 9:19-23). He adapts himself to the Jews, to those outside the law, and to the weak. His vision is crystal clear: "I have made myself the slave of everyone so as to win as many as I could. ¯. I made myself all things to everyone in order to save some at any cost; and I still do this, for the sake of the gospel, to have a share in its blessings." Urgent Gospel Proclamation ~. Paul did not understand "preaching" as giving a spir-itual reflection in a liturgical assembly. Integral procla-mation means heralding an urgent message from God that profoundly affects the destiny of all humankind. Mission has lost none of its urgency in the contem-porary world. Paul's words possess an authentic ring-- even in our ears today: "For, if I preach the gospel, that gives me no ground for boasting. For necessity is laid upon me. Woe to me if I do not preach the gospel!" (1 Co 9:16). For all Christians, evangelization must be a 123 68.2 2009 Kroeger ¯ Paul's Dynamic Mission Principles "daily preoccupation" (2 Co 11:28). As Pope Paul VI noted, "the presentation of the gospel message is not an optional contribution for the church. It is a duty incumbent on her by the command of the Lord Jesus" (Evangelii nuntiandi, §5). This Pauline "mission principle" is actually a call for an examination of conscience on the part of the church. Have many local churches placed too much emphasis on administrative efficiency, pastoral management, eco-nomic accountability, liturgical practice, canonical and catechetical orthodoxy--all to the detriment of dynamic programs of renewed evangelization? Have inward (ad intra) concerns vitiated the church's outward (ad extra) mission commitments? Paul's words contain a challenge to all churches and religious communities: "All the way along, from Jerusalem to Illyricum, I have preached Christ's Good News to the utmost of my capacity" (Rrn 15:19). Paul wrote these encouraging words to Timothy: "Make the preaching of the Good News your life's work, in thoroughgoing service" (2 Tm 4:5). 124 Deep Love of the Church In examining Paul's apostolic methods, it is enlight-ening to probe his view of the church. Paul primarily understands the church as a local community of baptized followers of Jesus Christ; he was not opposed to a uni-versal church, but in his day the local congregation was central to his experience. Mission and love of the people who constitute the church go hand in hand. This principle echoes the thought of an elderly Maryknoll missioner who never tired of repeating: Mission is people. Paul had great love and concern for the ecclesial com-munities he founded with painstaking effort. His writ-ings frequently and spontaneously express his affection: Review for Religious "It is only natural that I should feel like this towards you all, since you have shared the privileges which have been mine: both my chains and my work defending and estab-lishing the gospel. You have a permanent place in my heart, and God knows how much I miss you all, loving you as Christ Jesus loves you" (Ph 1:7-8). When the churches Paul established with patient apostolic ministry were in trouble, he shared their pain; he speaks of his "daily anxiety" for them (2 Co 11:28). He wonders aloud: "I am afraid that my work for you may have been wasted" (Ga 4:11). "My children, I must go through the pain of giv-ing birth to you all over again, until Christ is formed in you" (Ga 4:19). Although the Corinthian community had many internal problems (divi-sions, immorality, idolatry, etc.; see 1 Co 1:10-13, 5:1-5, 10:14- 22), Paul, the affectionate missionary, loved them dearly: "You yourselves are our letter, written on our hearts, to be known and read by all" (2 Co 3:2). "Keep a place for us in your hearts . As I have already told' you, you are in our hearts--together we live or together we die. I have the very greatest confidence in you, and I am so proud of you that in all our trouble I am filled with consolation and my joy is overflowing" (2 Co 7:2-4). His writings frequently "and spontaneously express his affection. Close Collaboration with Coworkers The apostle Paul, though a strong personality, was a team worker in the task of evangelization. He under-stood that all apostolic ministry is enhanced through collab-orative efforts. Some few examples show that Paul saw 68.2 2009 Kroeger * Paul's Dynamic Mission Principles great advantages in working together with other apos-tles. On his first missionary j6urney, Paul was accom-panied by Barnabas and Mark (Ac 13-14). Timothy and Silvanus were his trusted coworkers in Corinth and else-where (2 Co 1:19). Titus was his appointed deputy in dealing with difficulties in the Corinthian community (2 Co 8:23), Among other coworkers and fellow aposdes were Luke, Erastus, Aristarchus, and Tychicus. Paul considered teamwork and collaborative minis-try important for a variety of reasons. Apostles working in partnership presented a visible image of the church as community; it gave the people an example of common witness. A variety of apostles working for a common goal presented a more balanced picture of the church than Paul alone could have given. In addition, the gifts of vai'ious individuals were put at the service of gospel proclamation. Paul frequendy expressed his admiration and appre-ciation of his collaborators; he called Timothy his "coworker" (Rm 16:21) and tenderly describes him as "my dear and faithful son" (1 Co 4:17) whose "worth you know, how like a son with a father he has served with me in the work of the gospel" (Ph 2:22). Paul referred to Titus as "my brother" (2 Co 2:13) and "my partner and coworker" (2 Co 8:23). Even if disputes occasionally arose, Paul sought to promote communion in mission. Paul offers contemporary ministers a model of cooperative ministry. Commitment to Social Transformation Paul preached a gospel of freedom and liberation along with his manifest concern and love for the poor and the suffering. The gospel message of human dignity and equality, if embraced, leads to social transformation. Revie~v for Religious Paul firmly believed in the transforming power of the gospel message, and he proposed to his communities the model of Jesus Christ: "Remember how generous the Lord Jesus was: he was rich, but he became poor for your sake, to make you rich out of his poverty" (2 Co 8:9). And, for gospel credibility, Paul himself imitated Christ. Though he possessed citizenship in the Roman Empire, to show his social concern and commitment he chose the lot of ordinary working-class people and labored with his own hands for his livelihood (1 Th 2:9, 1 Co 4:12). Paul challenged many of the social, racial, religious, cultural, and economic barriers of his times. One brief example illustrates Paul's social message. In ancient times, there were three great blessings pronounced in the Jewish synagogue: "Blessed art thou, O Lord our God, . . . who hast not made me a Gentile, . . . who hast not made me a slave,., who hast not made me a woman!" Paul certainly had these barriers in mind when he expressed the new unity of those baptized in Christ: "There are no more distinctions between Jew and Greek, slave and free, male and female, but all of you are one in Christ Jesus" (Ga 3:28). All, without dis-tinction, are to gather around the Eucharistic table, that great center of unity. Numerous additional examples of Paul's social con-sciousness readily come to mind. He struggled to alleviate the suffering of the Christian communities in Jerusalem and Judea during a severe famine (1 Co 16:1-4). Paul laid down ~a clear apostolic principle: "The only thing insisted on was that we should remember to help the poor, as indeed I was anxious to do" (Ga 2:10). Paul converted the runaway slave Onesimus and then demanded that he be accepted "no longer as a slave but something much bet-il, 27 68.2 2009 Kroeger * Paul's Dynamic Mission Principles ter than a slave, a beloved brother" (Phm 16). In a word, Paul preached authentic liberation: "When Christ freed us, he meant us to remain free" (Ga 5:1). 128 Effective, Exemplary Lifestyle The apostle Paul was always careful that .his per-sonal life would encourage and facilitate the spread of the gospel and never become counterproductive. The witness of a Cbristian life is the first and oj~en most effective proclamation of the gospel. When Paul speaks of imitation in his letters (he is not being arrogant), he believes that Christians can encourage one another through their Chrisdike words and deeds. An exemplary lifestyle is a very effective mode of proclamation. "Be imitators of me, as I am of Christ" (1 Co 11:1). Paul commends the Thessalonians because "you were led to become imita-tors of us and of the Lord" (1 Th 1:6). Paul, the exem-plary missioner, is seeking to draw people to Christ, not to himself, through his encouragement to imitate model Christians: "I have sent you Timothy. he will remind you of the way that I live in Christ" (1 Co 4:16). Several of the foregoing sections of this presenta-tion refer to key elements that coalesce to form Paul's life-witness as an apostle: Christocentric spirituality, voluntary vulnerability, innovative mission approaches, evangelical urgency, collaborative ministry, social engagement. To these elements one could add additional virtues, as Paul himself does in his lists of spiritual gifts (see 1 Co 12 & 13, Ga 5:22). In a theology of mission today, the holistic approach to mission that Paul's life shows would be termed "inte-gral evangelization." Paul consistendy strove to run the race successfully and fight the battle successfully (see 1 Co 9:24-27). He kept his eyes fixed on Christ; he told Revie~v for Religious the Philippians: "I am still running, trying to capture the prize for which Christ Jesus captured me" (Ph 3:12). Total Reliance on God's Providence Paul had full confidence in God's everlasting love and fidelity; the guarantee of God's salvific love is Jesus Christ. Paul asks: "If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son but handed him over for us all, how will he not also give us everything else along with him?" (Rm 8:31-32). Mission always remains "God's project" and evangelizers seek to be God's faith-filled, humble instruments. Paul cooper-ated with God's grace so willingly and generously because he was firmly convinced that he was doing God's work. He asserts that he is only a servant of the gospel: "I did the planting, Apollos did the watering, but God made things grow. Neither the planter nor the waterer matters: only God, who makes things grow" (1 Co 3:6-7). Paul lived his apostolic life with great confidence and full trust in God, whom we can call "Abba" (Rm 8:15, Ga 4:6-7). His life wasfilled with many sufferings, hardships, and challenges; he even faced Spirit-given "roadblocks" in his missionary journeys (Ac 16:6-10). Fully convinced that his life and mission were dependent totally on God and the Spirit's guidance, Paul labored unceasingly, always ascribing any missionary success to God. "By the grace of God I am what I am . I worked harder than any of them--though it was not I, but the Paul labored unceasingly, always ascribing any missionary success to God. 129 68.2 2009 Kroeger * Paul's Dynamic Mission Principles grace of God that is with me" (1 .Co 15:10). Paul asserts: "The love of Christ urges us on" (2 Co 5:14), "I can do all things in him who strengthens me" (Ph 4:13), "The Spirit comes to help us in our weakness" (Rm 8:26). Paul was a man of faith. The dynamic aposde Paul is undoubtedly the great-est missionary of all time. Based on his mission experi-ence and profound theological insights, this presentation has proposed ten "mission principles," valid for Paul of Tarsus and for today's Pauls as well. Paul burned' with the flame of God's love that was enkindled in his heart at his conversion; that flame pervaded his whole existence, even to the final hour of his martyrdom in Rome. It is good for us to notice that, even in the face of all the afflictions and sufferings he endured, Paul was a fulfilled, joyful, Spirit-guided missioner. Paul over-flowed with the Good News, and spread God's saving love everywhere. His awareness of God's transforming grace given to him in abundant measure enabled him to joyfully proclaim Jesus as Lord (see 1 Co 15:10). Paul, exemplifying a genuinely missionary attitude, was filled with deep joy, not because of personal grati-fication or external success, but because he saw many communities accept the person of Jesus. He wrote to the Philippians: "My brothers and dear friends, do not give way but remain faithful in the Lord. I miss you very much, dear friends; you are my joy and my crown" (Ph 4:1). To the Thessalonians Paul wrote: "What do you think is our pride and our joy? You are; and you will be the crown of which we shall be proudest in the presence of our Lord Jesus when he comes; you are our pride and our joy" (1 Th 2:19-20). The Corinthians received this message from Paul: "I have the very great-est confidence in you, and I~ am so proud of you that in Review for Religious all our trouble I am filled with consolation and my joy is overflowing" (2 Co 7:4). Paul's exhortations need to be heard by the mission-ary church today: "Rejoice in the Lord always; again I say rejoice" (Ph 4:4). "Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances" (1 Th 5:16- 18). "My brothers, rejoice in the Lord" (Ph 3:1). "Shine in the world like bright stars, because you are offering it the word of life" (Ph 2:15-16). Pastors, missionaries, catechists, religious, all ministers of the church, imitate Paul, the joyful evangelizer. Selected Resources Alien, R. Missionary Methods: St. Paul's or Ours? Grand Rapids: Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co., 1962. Grassi, J. The Secret of Paul the Apostle. Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1978. Grassi, J. A World to Win. Maryknoll: Maryknoll Publications, 1965. Matera, E Strategies for Preaching Paul. Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 2001. Murphy-O'Connor, J. Jesus and Paul: Parallel Lives. Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 2007. Smyth, B. Pauk Mystic and Missionary. Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1980. Srampickal, T. "The Secret of Paul's Missionary Success," Third Millennium 10 (2007): 41-66. Witherup, R. I01 Questions and Answers on Paul. New York: Paulist Press, 2003. Personal Reflection and/or Group Discussion What principle(s) of Paul, identified by Kroeger, most caught your attention for use in your own mission? If you were to list your own mission principles, how would they compare with Paul's? 131 68.2 2009 DANIEL P. HORAN A Franciscan Approach to Ministry 1321 During his final days St. Francis of Assisi reflected on how he had lived his life and spent God's time. To preserve his recollections of the birth of his new religious order and leave a record of his hopes for the future, he dictated his Testament to some of the fri-ars who were caring for him. In it he recalls his conver-sion to follow Christ and shares what it means to be a Franciscan: to live the gospel. Today Francis continues to inspire people in all parts of the world and every faith tradition. His Testament is the last of a series of writings by Francis that reveals his vision of ministry. Beyond what people often call "Franciscan spirituality" stands his vision of ministry in the church. It is a manner of living in the world, being in relationship with God, and serving our sisters and brothers. The year 2009 marks the eight-hundredth anniver-sary of the order's founding. As we celebrate this mile- Daniel P. Horan OFM has written on Franciscan theology, philosophy, and spirituality. His address is Holy Name College; 1650 St. Camillus Drive; Silver Spring, Maryland 20903. horandp@gmail.com Review for Religious stone, it is good to consider Francis's example and reflect on his vision, which serves as inspiration and guidance. In this article I will highlight five themes that emerge from Francis's writings to form a ministerial ethos that is particularly Franciscan. One does not need to be a Franciscan, a Poor Clare, or a secular Franciscan to adopt a Franciscan approach. Any pastoral minister can benefit from the insights of one of the greatest saints and reformers in Christian history. Everything Done in Humble Service When Francis started his work for God, having renounced his worldly possessions and aspirations, he did penance and followed the gospel as he felt led by God.~ Soon others sought to imitate his efforts and fol-low him in what Franciscan scholar Thadd~e Matura calls the "Franciscan project." This project, while ini-tially not the goal of Francis himself, quickly grew to include thousands of friars and hundreds of sisters,z What made them follow in the footsteps of this medi-eval man and renounce property and adhere to a life of obedience and chaste celibacy? One element of the Franciscan project that emerged early was radical adherence to subordinate positions in society. Francis's early followers saw the humility of a man who left behind the life of a wealthy merchant to live among lepers and outcasts. In his Earlier Rule, Francis had instructed them where among the social strata they should strive to live. He says, "Let no one be called 'prior,' but let everyone in general be called a lesser brother. Let one wash the feet of the other." Francis continued by enjoining his brothers to be "lesser ones" always "subject to all.''3 This spirit of humility is the foundation for all the 133 68.2 2009 Horan ¯ ~ Franciscan ~pproach to Ministry characteristics of a Franciscan ministry. Francis was less concerned about what someone did in the world than about how someone did it. Here we see his admiration for Christ's humility as central to his spirituality: to be Francis was less cbncerned about what someonedid in the world than how someone did: a Franciscan is to live the gospel by following in the footprints of Jesus Christ. Michael Blastic summarizes this well: "As Jesus turned toward those around him, so Francis and Clare in contemplation and com-passion incarnate the praxis of Jesus as they follow him in their world by turning to those around them.''4 From his incarnation and birth to his death on the cross, Jesus' life served as Francis's model for humble service. Perhaps the most succinct articulation of Francis's image of humble service is found in Admonition XIX. Here Francis says: Blessed is the servant who does not consider himself any better when he is praised and exalted by people than when he is considered worthless, simple, and looked down upon, for what a person is before God, that he is and no more. Woe to that religious who has been placed in a high position by others and [who] does not want to come down by his own will. Blessed is that servant who is not placed in a high position by his own will and always desires to be under the feet of others,s 134 Humility is a virtue of ministry, being of service to and among people, that Francis often wrote about. Besides being a reoccurring theme in his Admonitions, humility becomes a constitutive characteristic of the Franciscan way of life when it appears three times in his Review for Religious Later Rule. In chapter 3 we read, "I counsel, admonish, and exhort my brothers in the Lord Jesus Christ not to quarrel or argue or judge others when they go about in the world; but let them be rrieek, peaceful, modest, gende, and humble, speaking courteously to everyone, as is becoming." Two chapters later in the same document, Francis exhorts his followers to always work humbly as servants of God and disciples of poverty. Toward the end of the Rule, Francis again reminds his followers that even amid persecution, hardship, and infirmity they are to have humility and patience while loving those who persecute them.6 Francis echoes the theme of humility at every opportunity because in this way Christ served his brothers and sisters and in this way he desired to serve. Thaddte Matura makes a keen observation about the importance of humility in Francis's way of life and in the movement he gave rise to. Matura believes that Francis was.well aware of the temptation, perhaps within him-self, for pastoral ministers to consider themselves better or above those whom they served.7 It is possible that his concern about friars judging others and seeking special privileges was rooted in his own experience as the son of a wealthy merchant, a well-off young man who was disgusted by lepers and people of lower social status. Regardless of Francis's initial motivation, we are the inheritors of a vision that inspires ministers to always put others before themselves.8 In a world that is fraught with self-centeredness and material accumulation, where even devoted ministers are tempted to seek personal reward, a humble approach to ministry remains prophetic. Relationship Takes Priority Francis's way of being-in-the-world followed the example of Jesus Christ. Michael Blastic insightfully 68.2 2009 Horan ¯ A Franciscan Approach to Ministry connects the divine humility that Francis recognized in the incarnation with God's outward movement toward humanity.9 It was in humility that God incarnate, Jesus Christ, entered into relationships with the people around him. All four Gospels tell of Jesus' encounters with many people: the marginalized, outcast, wealthy, powerful, average, violent, peaceful, and so on. Because he lived a perfectly humble existence among his sisters and brothers, Jesus could meet people as they were, rec-ognizing the inherent dignity of each human person. For Francis, this became a major component of his way of life and remains a Franciscan characteristic today. Vv'hile most of the preserved writings of Francis are letters, prayers, and admonitions or guidelines addressed to large numbers, we have one letter that was written to a particular minister. His identity remains anonymous, frustratingly so for many, but the anonymiW allows us to stand in his place and receive personally from Francis his wisdom concerning ministry, a touching wisdom straight from his heart. Francis is concerned about this friar's attitude and disposition, and he says: I wish to know in this way if you love the Lord and me, his servant and yours: that there is not any brother in the world who has sinned--however much he could have sinned--who, after he has looked into your eyes, would ever depart without your mercy, if he is looking for mercy.~° Mercy trumps justice. Relationship remains the pri-mary way for people to understand all their encoun-ters. Vghile this observation may appear obvious, the reason is that we are already familiar--if only subtly and indirecdy--with the Franciscan way of seeing ministry. This was not always the case. The Franciscan historian Joseph Chinnici describes the early Franciscan move- Review for Religious ment as a radically new form of "penitential human-ism." He applies this term to the Franciscan movement's effort to bring people together peacefully amid "social discord and violence." This approach to ministry puts relationship and com-munity above per-sonal journeys of faith and conversion. One's own conversion, if it is a Franciscan one, should lead toward others and away from one's own self.~ It ~ is for precisely this reason that Francis insisted that the friars be mendicants, not monks, and live with the whole world as their cloister, not limiting it to a monastery's four walls. Franciscan ministries are not simply good methods, skillful implementations of model practices. Rather, they are a project that seeks to unite those who are separated by the violence of social, political, and ecclesial dissent.12 To stress relationship as the primary approach to minis-try, Francis often used familial terms. In his Earlier Rule, he says, "Let each one love and care for his brother as a mother loves and cares for her son."13 In Francis's spirituality, such a familial understanding of relation-ship extended even beyon.d human relationships to include all of God's creation. In his most famous work, The Canticle of the Creatures, he addresses all elements as brother or sister. In an age of heightened ecological awareness, our relationship with the earth and the rest of creation can influence our ministry positively. We are called to minister to all with a deepened sense of our One's own conversion, if it is a Franciscan one, should lead toward others and away from one's own self. 137 68.2 2009 Horan ¯ ~l Franciscan ~pproacb to Minisl~ interdependence and relatedness as children of God and brothers and sisters of all God's creation. Avoid Attachment There is great wisdom in a mendicant model of life. In a life of detachment from personal property, pasto-ral ministers become less preoccupied with their status, their control, their "things." If a particular ministry does not "belong" to a particular minister, one becomes a curator, a caretaker, one who takes good care of some-thing of value not one's own. This contrasts with the oligarchic approach, a small group's limited vision often preventing a ministry's expansion or creativity. Francis was quite convinced that appropriation of anything, including one's work as a minister, would lead to other problems. His Earlier Rule is filled with admonitions and warnings about the danger of attachment. In chap-ter 7 he says, "Wherever the brothers may be, either in hermitages or other places, let them be careful not to make any place their own or contend with anyone for it." He goes on to say, "Guard yourselves against the anxieties of this world and the cares of this life," and summarizes by saying: "Let all the brothers strive to follow the humility and poverty of our Lord Jesus Christ, and let them remember that we should have nothing else in the whole world except as the Apostle says: "Having food and clothing, we are content with these" (1 Tm 6:8).14 While today most ministers, including professed Franciscan women and men, would find it difficult to live in this world strictly observing the instruction above, the key to Francis's insight is found in the word "strive." We understand this as a more perfect vision of an imperfect manner of living in this world. It is the Review for Religious model that pastoral ministers should have in their work, striving in humility and poverty to not appropriate the work as their own. Thy Will Be Done Naturally, the divestment of property and ownership of even one's ministry leads to the question: Then to whom does it belong? For Francis the answer is simple: M1 good things come from and belong to God. It is in the perfect prayer of Christians that we find the source and purpose of our ministerial endeavors, "Thy will be done." When our efforts in ministry become more about our will, our ambition, or our desires, then we have left the realm of ministry and entered some level of self-centeredness. Closely linked to Francis's view of attachment is his understanding that all ministry is the work of God for God. This understanding affirms and renews people's vocation to service. It directs the gaze of ministers from themselves back to God as the source of their inspiration to follow their ministerial vocation. Francis often wrote about God's will in connection with his own ministry and that of the Friars Minor. In his Letter to the Entire Order, Francis reminds his broth-ers of their vocation and its connection to God's will. He writes: "Give praise to him because he is good; exalt him by your deeds; for this reason he has sent you into the whole world: that you may bear witness to his voice in word and deed and bring everyone to know that there is no one who is all-powerful except him.'ns Matura highlights this thought of Francis when he says, "Anything good that we have or do, no matter how personal it is, comes to us from God, and we are only administrators of that good, as it were.'n6 In addition to the proper attribution of our gifts and vocation to 139 68.2 2009 Horan ¯ A Franciscan Approach to Ministry God, this thought frees us of the weighty burdens of self-sufficiency and responsibility. Unhampered by the pressure ministers frequendy put on themselves, we are free to be God's instruments, working in partnership with Christ and others. In this way we leave the world of "lone rangers" and enter the community of Christians working toward the kingdom. I'40 Pray without Ceasing A Franciscan approach to ministry must always flow from a life of prayer. Those who adopt this approach are not just people who pray, but people whose words and actions are also prayer. This lived prayer is con-stant openness to conversion, allowing God to enter and transform lives from worldly concern and triviality to authentic gospel living--in Christ's footsteps, as God's instruments of peace today. In a brief letter to St. Anthony of Padua, Francis responded to his request for permission to teach the-ology. This was a new initiative, for up to this time Franciscans had largely avoided academic ministry. Francis was cautious of higher education because of the tendency of the educated to think better of themselves, look down on others, and move away from the charac-teristics of ministry we have examined above. Francis knew of Anthony's gifts, however, and knew that many friars had asked for his instruction in theology. Francis told Anthony, "I am pleased that you teach .sacred the-ology to the brothers providing that, as is contained in the Rule, you 'do not extinguish the Spirit of prayer and devotion' during study of this kind.''17 Even a ministry as basic as training other friars for pastoral ministry was viewed as secondary to prayer and devotion. Francis writes in his Earlier Rule that those who Review for Religious come after him are to love the Lord God, who has given everyone everything, with their whole heart, soul, mind, strength, understanding, powers, effort, affection, feel-ing, desire, and wish. This is not to be an occasional experience or portion of time apart from the rest of life, but the modus operandi of ministry. Later in the same text Francis writes: Wherever we are, in every place, at every hour, at every time of the day, every day and continually, let all of us truly and humbly believe and hold in our heart and love, honor, adore, serve, praise and bless, glorify and exalt, magnify and give thanks to the Most High and Supreme Eternal God, Trinity and Unity.'s This is another echo of the Franciscan understanding that one's entire life should be given back to God as prayer. Such a life naturally nourishes a vocation to service and ministry. When one's actions are directed back to God with humil-ity, with relationship as the priority, without encumber-ing attachments, and with recognition of everything as God's work, then life is transformed into prayer. Ministry then is not a person's self-motivated effort or effectiveness, but the outpouring of God's gifts received prayerfully and gratefully and sharbd with others. Eight hundred years after the first Franciscan began to do ministry in the small town of Assisi, we find our-selves inspired by Francis's example to continue the mission of God's work in our world. Regardless of our particular manifestation of God's work, all pastoral min-isters can find renewed life and purpose by reflecting A Franciscan approach to ministry must always flow from a 'life of prayer. 141 68.2 2009 Horan * .4 Franciscan AIqn'oacb to Ministry on a Franciscan approach to ministry. Humility keeps us approachable and ready to give loving service. The priority we give to relationship brings us to places where we can best foster loving unity among our sisters and brothers and grateful respect for all of creation. Detachment helps to seek the right things, without being distracted by worldly concerns. Recalling that God is the source of all our gifts and our personal voca-tion puts our work into perspective, while bolstering our purpose to work hand in hand with God. Finally, more than just say prayers, we strive to live lives that are prayers, lives that help bring God's love to our world. Notes i Francis of Assisi, "The Testament," verses 1 and 14, in Francis of Assisi: Early Documents, vol. 1, ed. Regis J. Armstrong, J.A. Wayne Hellmann, and William Short (New York: New City Press, 1999), pp. 124 & 125. Further citations of this first volume will be noted as FAED followed by page numbers. 2 Thaddde Matura, "Francis of Assisi and His Posterity Today," in Gospel Living: Francis of Assisi Yesterday and Today, ed. Elise Saggau (St. Bonaventure, N.Y.: Franciscan Institute, 1994), pp. 263-267. Matura compares Francis to Jesus while explaining similarities of the Franciscan orders and the church. While Francis is held as the founder and model for the three Franciscan orders (much as Jesus is for the church), he is not credited with intentionally founding a new movement in the proper sense (see p. 264). ~ Francis of Assisi, "The Earlier Rule," 6:3-4 and 7:2, in FAED, p. 68. 4 Michael Blastic, "Contemplation and Compassion: A Franciscan Ministerial Spirituality," in Spirit and Life, vol. 7, ed. Anthony Carrozzo, Vincent Cushing, and Kenneth Himes (St. Bonaventure, N.Y.: Franciscan Institute, 1997), p. 172. s Francis, "Admonition 19: A Humble Servant of God," in FAED, p. 135. 6 Francis, "The Later Rule," 3:10-11 (emphasis added), 5:4, and 10:7-10, in FAED, pp. 102-105. r Thadd~e Matura, Francis of Assisi: The Message in His Writings, Review for Religious trans. Paul Barrett (St. Bonaventure, N.Y.: Franciscan Institute, 1997), p. 167. s St. Bonaventure, the Franciscan saint and doctor of the church, later wrote about the importance of humility in the evangelical life, beginning his treatise Disputed Questions on Evangelical Perfection with that topic. See Works of St. Bonaventure, vol. 13, trans. Thomas Reist and Robert Karris (St. Bonaventure, N.Y.: Franciscan Institute, 2008). 9 Blastic, "Contemplation and Compassion," p. 153. 10Francis, "A Letter to a Minister," verse 9, in FAED, p. 97. 11 Joseph Chinnici, "Penitential Humanism: Rereading the Sources to Develop a Franciscan Urban Spirituality," in Franciscans in Urban Ministry, ed. Roberta McKelvie (St. Bonaventure, N.Y.: Franciscan Institute, 2002), pp. 119-122. ~2 See Chinnici, "Penitential Humanism," p. 123. 13 Francis, "Earlier Rule," 9:1 I, in FAED, p. 71. ~4' Francis, "Earlier Rule," 7:13, 8:2, and 9:1, in F~IED, pp. 69-70. is Francis, "A Letter to the Entire Order," verses 8-9, in FAED, p. 117. 16 Matura, Francis ofAssisi, p. 132. 17 Francis, "A Letter to Brother Anthony of Padua," verse 2, in FAED, p. 107. 18 Francis, "Earlier Rule," 23:8 and 23:11, in FAED, pp. 84 & 85. Personal Reflection and/or Group Discussion 1. What model or approach do I currently use in my pastoral ministry? 2. In what ways do Francis's insights speak to me today? 3. What characteristics of a Franciscan approach to ministry do I live particularly well? Where could I strive to improve? 68.2 2009 DAMIAN C. ILODIGWE Discipleship and Walking by Faith God never deceives us. When we entrust our life to him and allow him to direct us, he ensures that all goes well. We may not know where he is lead-ing us. We only see the present, and nothing beyond it. Indeed, even the present is sometimes not clear, and in any case it reaches beyond itself into the future. The present invites to us to keep moving despite perplexity. Here our faith is our strength. Faith propels us forward. So long as we know that God is with us, we can afford to take the next step. We need not be apprehensive. We can be certain that we shall reach our destination even if we have to move slowly and sometimes with some frustradon. Without faith we do not see that God is leading us. If we step out into the unknown future at his bidding, it is likely that we will persevere to the end (see Heb 11). Damian C. Ilodigwe last wrote for us in early 2008. He is a priest and lecturer in philosophy at Ss. Peter and Paul Major Seminary; P.M.B. 5171; Secretariat P.O.; Ibadan, Nigeria. dammychuks2000@ yahoo.com Review for Religious We should trust God at each step, even when we do not know what lies ahead. He shows us his plan piecemeal. An aspect of faith is trust. We can think here of chil-dren and mothers. Usually young children are wholly dependent on their mother. She gives instruction, and the child wonders about it. But this wondering does not prevent the child from carrying out the mother's bidding. He may ask questions, of course, but unless he is simply seeking some clarification he will not get very far. He will not be permitted to ignore or resist what his mother asks him to do. Usually children know, for their own good, when they had better obey. Usually they carry out their mother's instruction even when they do not fully understand. What is true of the relation between children and their mother is true of our relationship with God. Like little children, we need to give God our utter trust (Lk 11:5-13; 18:1-8). Because our faith tells us that God acts in our best interest, we can afford to follow his bidding no matter the inconveniences we feel to be associated with it. A childlike simplicity in our relationship with God is an index of vibrant faith and of maturity in this relationship (Lk 12:22-31). The' Case of Abraham In the life of Abraham we find an example of this childlike faith. He is ready to do the Lord's bidding even when this involves a great deal of sacrifice. Many instances in his life illustrate his utter commitment to God. Consider the divine request to leave his country for another land: "Leave your country, your family, and your father's house, for the land I will show you. I will make you a great nation; I will bless you and make your name so famous that it will be used as a blessing. I will 68.2 2009 llodig'we ¯ Discipleship and Walking by Faith In the life of abraham we find an exa ple ff bless those who bless you; I will curse those who slight you; all the tribes on earth shall bless themselves by you" (Gn 12:1-2). How could God ask Abraham to do a thing like this?1 The demand appears extravagant and even ridiculous. Is it reasonable to leave his native place, where all his friends are? He is established here. He has security here. To leave means leaving good memories and property behind and beginning all over again. As the saying goes, a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush. It is foolish to abandon what has proved itself over the years without a good clear reason. That rea-son would be that the change will certainly make things better. But, for Abraham, the future is a clouded certainty. All that is certain is that he should leave and that he will be shown another land. Regarding the particulars of the promised land, he knows nothing. He is told, though, that from him will come a great nation. That promise appears less attractive than it might because of its general vagueness. Yet at another level it provides a certain motivation because it comes from God, from Abraham's faith in God. It is only faith that can quickly overcome the disenchantment pr0~oked by lack of information about this promised land. Abraham is certainly a man of faith. For, in spite of the obvious per-plexities associated with this directive, he. takes the bull by the horns. He understands that it is the Lord speak-ing and that he knows what he is doing. Consequently he sets out as the Lord has told him to do. Scripture tells us that Abraham is seventy-five years old when he Review for Religious leaves Haran. He takes his wife, Sarai, and the people they.have acquired in Haran. Their journey takes them to Canaan (Gn 12:4-5). Abram's age of seventy-five is significant, emphasizing the great inconvenience of this movement. He is not a young man eager to be off on his own. So in a sense it is a blind journey. God guides him. As is always the case, the Lord does not ask us to do something and then leave us to our own design. He does not leave us on our own. He provides for us one step at a time. The entire picture can never be available to us all at once. As Abram journeys, he comes to Shechem's Oak of Moreh, in Canaan. The Lord appears to him and says he will give this land to his descendants. Abram builds an altar there. He proceeds to the hill country east of Bethel and then to the Negeb (Gn 12:7-9). Although Abram has stepped out into the unknown, he is never alone. He knows in faith that the Lord is with him through all the stages of his journey. And so he is our father in faith (Heb 11:8). He is wholly sub-missive to God, and God does not fail him. Abraham becomes the father' of a multitude of nations. The Challenges of Discipleship and Our Contemporary Situation At this juncture we may ask what we can learn from Abraham's experience. We can learn much regarding the challenges of discipleship. Our life, too, is a journey, a journey of faith towards God's kingdom. God calls each of us out of our various backgrounds to pursue a special life journey, a pilgrimage to a distant destination. The fundamental truth about this is that God is with us all the time, even when we do not take cognizance of him. His presence empowers us to be what he wants us to be. '147 68.2 2009 Ilodig~ve ¯ Discipleship and Walking by Faith Without evidence we are likely to feel discdnnected, His providence sustains us and guides every.aspect of our life. We need to let this truth have an impact on the way we live our life each day. We need to entrust ourselves completely to that providence. "For those who --~ love God, all things work together unto good." We may not understand just how they fit together now or will fit together in the end, but we cannot doubt that they do fit together. God's love, acting as a redemptive principle, inte-grates every aspect of our experience, bringing every-thing into God's ultimate plan for us all. The practical implication of this truth, then, is that we must learn to walk by faith rather than by sight.2 There is a world of difference' between walking by faith and walking by sight. When we walk by mere sight, we are all the time looking for visible, tangible, measur-able evidence of what we should do or should have done. For many purposes and many aspects of reality, there is such evidence, but for other purposes there is none. We may feel that without that kind of evidence there is no reality. If so, we are likely to feel disconnected. We are likely to feel we are living within limited horizons, likely to have a vague feeling that we are missing something. Not enjoying that feeling, we give oursel~es a warrant to deny there is any reality behind our vague feeling. We decide not to let ourselves be affected by what we claim is unreality. We refuse to be open to it. On the other hand, our admittedly limited knowl-edge even of the physical world should persuade us to see and affirm that the fullness of reality is far broader 148] Review for Religious than, say, the empirical data we have of the astrophysi-cal universe or the jungles of Brazil. We may lack the resources to fully penetrate such real worlds, and the world of faith as well, but we do not have reason to deny their reality and the impact they can and should have upon us.3 We need not deny spiritual reality even though we lack tangible and visible data that serve as empirical evi-dence. Spirituality's reality is accessible to faith. Faith transcends the evidence of the empirical sciences. When we walk by faith, we find ourselves in some sense at home in all of reality. The experience of Abram challenges us. Because he walked by faith, he was able to see far beyond the lim-ited reality of his time and place. Ready to journey with the Lord, he stepped out into the unknown that in some way he could actually see. In time he realized much of the promise he had. received. Abram's faith was his sav-ing grace. In our dealing with the Lord, some tension remains between the way of faith and the way of mere sight. . Sometimes we may walk ahead of the Lord or far behind him, and thus miss some of what we would have received from him. When our faith is stronger, we are better able to synchronize our mind and heart with God. We see better what he sees; we dream better the dream that he dreams for us; we see a road even when our ordinary sight sees no road. In short, our world of possibilities becomes larger; we live our lives more abundantly. Thomas's Encounter with the Risen Lord Consider Thomas. He did not believe when the other apostles told him they had seen the Lord. He insisted that unless he touched Jesus' wounds he would 149 68.2 2009 llodigwe ¯ Discipleship and Walking by Faith 1501 not believe (Jn 20:24-25). His predicament is under-standable. He cannot transcend the inclination to walk by sight. He demands empirical evidence in a matter that requires faith. The reality of the risen Lord is not accessible to, cannot be contained in, the limited world of empirical evidence. This becomes clear to Thomas when the Lord grants his demand for evidence. "Put your finger here, and look at my hands; then stretch out your hand and put it in my side. Stop your doubting and believe." Thomas says, "My Lord and my God!" Jesus says to him, "Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe!" On 20:26-29). Thomas wants empirical evidence in order to believe, and he is granted the rare privilege of touching and seeing. But the Lord does not fail to make clear that this privilege is not really necessary. Indeed, it is argu-able that it is not the empirical evidence that generates Thomas's confession. Thomas could have touched the Lord and still not believed. There is another factor, the factor of grace. One cannot come into the presence of the risen Lord without being positively affected. That is what seems to have happened in Thomas's case. It is clear that what really matters is faith, not sight: "Happy are those who believe without seeing me." Without empirical evidence they believe, and this is what makes them blessed. The experience of the risen Lord is paradoxically a reward for their faith. It is their faith, not empirical evidence, that opens them to the reality of the risen Lord. Faith is a gift. through and through. God's gift, the presence of God, is received and perceived through faith. If we turn again to the experience of Abraham, we note that he avoids the tension between the way Review for Religious of faith and the way of sight. He does not ask for evi-dence as Thomas does. He is ready to step out into the unknown simply because he believes it is the Lord speaking. Faith sustains him on his travel. Faith brings him to the promised land. But before this ever comes to pass in time, faith has already enabled him to realize the promised land spiritually. The claim of faith is certainly one we cannot afford to ignore in our everyday struggle. We need to keep in mind the distinction between the way of faith and the way of sight. So as to realize our full destiny in the Lord, we must cultivate the habit of walking by faith rather than by sight, bringing faith into every aspect of our existence. It will enrich our vision of life and increase our ability to deal appropriately with all that occurs in our day-to-day living. In carefully fostered faith, the unthinkable becomes thinkable, the impossible becomes possible, and our entire life will be lighted by the glory of God. Notes I Even more extravagant is the later demand that he sacrifice Isaac, the child of promise. Here, too, Abraham's response marks him as a model of faith. See Genesis 22. z See Ralph C. Martin, Called to Holiness (Mumbai: St Pauls, 2001), pp. 101-117. 3 Faith and reason complement each other. Indeed, as Pope John Paul I! famously remarked, "Faith and Reason are like two wings on which the human spirit rises to the contemplation of truth" (Fides et ratio, §7). 151 68.2 2009 VIRGINIA M. HERBERS Reparation and the Sacred Heart: A New Interpretation renewing religious traditions The conciliar decree Perfectae caritatis was pro-mulgated in 1965 to guide renewal "in order that the great value of a life consecrated by the profession of the counsels and its necessary mission today may yield greater good to the church" (PC §1). Thirty years later John Paul II affirmed that "the consecrated life has not only proved a help and support for the church in the past, but is also a precious and necessary gift for the present and future of the people of God" (Vita consecrata, §3). In fidelity to the council's call and in response to the pope's call for authentic interpretation of founding charisms, the Apostles of the Sacred Heart of Jesus have in recent years striven to understand Virginia M. Herbers ASCJ is vocation director of the Aposdes of the Sacred Heart of Jesus and director of Queen of Apostles Spirituality Center; 800 Montebello Camp Road; Imperial, Missouri 63052. svhascj@yahoo.com Revie~ for Religious authentically the role and relevance of reparation within the Sacred Heart devotion. This effort has led me to believe that, just as religious consecration still has significance in the world today, so too does reparation. I affirm Karl Rahner's claim in 1966 that devotion to the Sacred Heart is not a dated, old-fashioned piety, but rather is quite relevant today. He later insisted that this devotion is indispensable "since the future of the church was decided by the love of the heart of Jesus in dying and depends on the final decision of Our own hearts."' I think Rahner is correct. I would add that consecrated life itself can be understood as a lived interpretation of Sacred Heart devotion, and that the religious profession of the Apostles of the Sacred Heart demonstrates the proper understanding of repa-ration in the Sacred Heart devotion. This community's charism illuminates a unique aspect of God's love, pro-viding for the entire church a renewed understanding of our baptismal vocation (see PC §1). To appreciate this charism of reparation, a brief look at the religious vows and the Sacred Heart devotion will provide helpful background. Let us take them in turn. The Evangelical Counsels Vita consecrata asserts that religious vows are not an initiative of the individual religious, but a response of the individual to God's call: "The experience of this gracious love of God is so deep and so powerful that the person called senses the need to respond by unconditionally dedi-cating his or her life to God" (VC §17). The profession of poverty, chastity, and obedience is the consecrated person's response of love to the One who loves her infinitely. Hearing the call and responding to God's love is not unique to those in religious life; it is implicit in 68.2 2009 Herbers * Reparation and the Sacred Heart baptismal consecration. Profession of the evangelical counsels does not set religious apart from the body of the faithful as holier, closer to God, or more perfect. It is not a consecration differing in essence from baptismal consecration. Rather, it is rooted in baptism. It is an intensification of baptismal consecration for mission; it is a specification of the baptismal call.2 As such, it is a sign to all the baptized of what and who we are called to become as followers of Christ and members of his Body. "Religious life 'clearly, strikingly, astonishingly' ¯ . . 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.''3 Profession of the evangelical counsels is thus a rec-ognition by religious of the fullness of God's love for all, and a response to that love with the gift of their entire lives. Through the vows of chastity, poverty, and obe-dience, religious center their lives on the "God-quest" and proclaim that "I commit my whole self, everything and forever, to the undying love that has claimed me for the transformation of the world." Profession of vows is thus "a unitary and unifying act, a solemn, formal, and public act, by which a person takes her whole life into her hands and freely disposes of it in self-gift to Christ and his Body within the congregation."4 Sacred Heart Devotion Devotion to the Sacred Heart has traditionally been understood as an icon of God's love for humanity, devel-oping direcdy from incarnational theology,s Humanity recognizes God's love in the love of the God-man, Jesus Christ, as shown specifically in his heart. The incarna-tion allows human beings to experience God's love in Review for Religious tangible human ways. The heart of Jesus reveals the heart of God, embodied and enfieshed. This capac-ity has implications for all who follow Christ, for "the only Son of God, in becoming incarnate, takes on a human heart [and] we are called to share in this love and to receive through the Holy Spirit this extraordinary capacity to love.''6 Devotion to the Sacred Heart, then, is not devo-tion to an abstract symbol, but devotion to the per-son of Jesus and his love for each human being. The incarnation gives humanity access to what was formerly inacces-sible, God's very self, during Jesus' earthly life and now in his Mystical Body, the church. In the heart of Jesus, God calls us to "become what we receive"7 and to incarnate God's love ourselves as members of Christ's Mystical Body. What, then, does the heart of Jesus teach us about the incarnate love of God? Devotion to the Sacred Heart encompasses four characteristics of God's love: (1) Christ's heart shows us that the incarnate love of God is a continuing, dynamic reality, not an abstract theory or historical event; the heart of God is enfleshed in the body of Jesus and continues to beat in his Body, the church. (2) Christ's heart is a heart wherein two natures--human and divine-~coexist in perfect harmony. (3) Christ's heart is on fire with love for all humanity, both in general and in particular. (4) Christ's heart is an Devotion to the Sacred Heart has traditionally been understood as an icon of God's love for humanity. 68.2 2009 Herbers ¯ Reparation and the Sacred Heart open, broken heart--opened by the soldier's lance after the sacrifice of his human life, and broken by human sin, weakness, and error. The Religious Vows: Returning Love for Love Given the understanding that religious vows are a response to love and a sign for all the faithful of our common call to share in Christ's mission, and given the understanding that Sacred Heart devotion is (a) an ongoing dynamic expression of God's incarnate love, (b) exemplified in the love of Jesus' heart, which is in perfect union with the Father and the Spirit, (c) con-tinually on fire with love for us, and (d) still wounded by humanity's rejection of divine love even while revealing through the open wound the ultimate gift of his life, we now turn to the modern relevance of the religious vows as a distinct and poignant means of living Sacred Heart devotion. The consecrated religious professes vows as a return of love for Love, as a response from her heart to the outpouring~of God's love upon her. The very act of con-secrated profession can be interpreted as a profound act of Sacred Heart devotion, as attested by John Paul II: "Through the consecration of the religious vows, you desire, through the love of total giving, to fill your souls and your bodies with the spirit of sacrifice . In this way the likeness of that love which in the heart of Christ is both redemptive and spousal is imprinted on the religious profession" (Redemptionis donum, §8). Acknowledging and accepting the love of God and responding "in kind" are not enough, however. The Sacred Heart of God incarnate is not a mere image to be worshiped or just a pious practice to be encouraged. The encyclical on Sacred Heart devotion, Haurietis Review for Religious aquas, quotes Thomas Aquinas on this point: "Religious worship is not paid to images, considered in themselves, as things; but according as they are representations lead-ing to God incarnate. The approach which is made to the image as such does not stop there, but continues towards that which is represented.''8 In a similar way, professing vows in the church as a response to God's love commits religious to loving service of the church and, not stopping there, to loving service of the incar-nate Word of God. Our acceptance of God's love in baptism transforms us; in religious profession this baptismal transformation shapes our likeness to Christ, compelling us to return his love by following his example of ministering self-lessly to all those in need. Pope Benedict XVI expresses this directly: "When we practice this devotion, not only do we recognize God's love with gratitude but we con-tinue to open ourselves to this love so that our lives are ever more closely patterned upon it . The experience of God's love should be lived by men and women as a 'calling' to which they must respond. Fixing our gaze on the Lord. helps us to become more attentive to the suffering and needs of others.''9 Interior devotion is thus manifested in ministerial outreach. The three vows constitute a unique expression of Sacred Heart devotion, corresponding to specific char-acteristics of incarnate love. The heart of Jesus is a heart both human and divine, the heart of a man and the heart of God. Within one heart, two natures coex-ist in a mysterious unity that leaves each distinct yet undivided. Jesus' human heart beats in rhythm with the heart of God; his human will is perfectly synchronized with the will of God. The desire of the man corresponds completely with the desire of God for the man. 157 68.2 2009 Herbers * Reparation and tbe Sacred Heart In this lies the kernel of religious obedience--to have our hearts beat in time with the heart of God. Consecrated persons who vow obedience strive to desire what God desires, to will what God wills, to attune their hearts to the heart of God. "To want the same thing, and to reject the same thing, was recognizeff by antiq-uity as the authentic content of love: the one becomes similar to the other, and this leads to a community of will and thought,m° Genuine obedience is not confor-mity to an external authority nor submission to a will foreign to our own. The vow of obedience "in its deep-est roots is a dedication to freedom, not to subjection or servitude . True freedom is to be found in union with the will of God."1' The vow of chastity expresses devotion to the heart of Christ by expressing his love for all people. Just as the Sacred Heart is "a heart on fire," so by vowing chastity do religious enkindle the fire of love in their own heart. Sandra Schneiders insists'that the vow of chastity "must be based on a deep religious experience of being loved by God in Jesus and an experienced per-sonaL fulfillment in returning that love." She adds that this vow "leads the person toward personal transforma-tion in love and allows the person to participate mean-ingfully in the emergence of a new, whole, and loving world characterized by equality, responsible intimacy, and mutuality."12 Clelia Merloni, the founder of the Apostles of the Sacred Heart, describes the "fire of love" kindled by the apostle's vow of chastity as holy zeal: "You see, daugh-ters, wherever the fire of divine love is, it cannot remain hidden or idle, but at once it manifests itself as the liv-ing flame of a holy zeal . Remember, daughters, that zeal must be active, untiring, gentle, and prudent: zeal Reuiew for Religio~.s does not inflame the heart without manifesting itself in works."13 By vowing lives of consecrated celibacy, reli-gious perpetually submit to the consuming fire Of God's love, which in turn impels them to share that love with everyone she encounters in an inclusive, not exclusive, way. Professing chastity enables religious to fan into flame a love that embraces all, recognizing in each face the face of God. As Benedict xvI wrote in Deus caritas est (§ 15), "The concept of 'neighbor' is now universal-ized, yet it remains concrete. Despite .being extended to all mankind, it is not reduced to a generic, abstract, and undemanding expression of love, but calls for my own practical commitment in the here and now." The vow of chastity calls us to embrace each while embracing all, to love particularly w~ithout loving restrictively, to love universally and specifically. Pierre Teilhard de Chardifi described the source .and the consequence of this type of loving as fire: "Under the symbol of the Sacred Heart, the divine assumed for me the form, the strength, and the properties of an energy, of a fire . Through its power to become universal, this fire proved able to invade and impregnate with love the whole atmosphere of the world in which I lived.''~4 By professing poverty, religious make yet another return of love for Love, mirroring the woundedness of Christ's heart. John Paul II says that "on Golgotha Jesus' heart was pierced by a lance as a sign of his total self-giving, of that sacrificial and saving love with which he 'loved us to the end'" On 13:1).15 By accepting death at the hands, of humanity, the God-man sacrificed all for love. "From the infinite power proper to God, the heart of Christ did not retain anything except the unarmed power of the love that forgives . In the heart of Christ are encountered divine riches and human poverty."~6 68.2 2009 Herbers ¯ Reparation and the Sacred Heart In the profession of poverty, devotion to the broken heart of Christ is made tangible also through responding to the suffering ofhis heart in the poor of .today's~worl~d. 160 This kenosis, this. self-emptying, is the expression of Love to which the vow of poverty responds. In accept-ing death Christ accepted all and gave all. In professing poverty religious do likewise--accepting all that is given them from the hand of the Father and giving all in a return of love for Love. This is devotion to the open heart of Christ. In the profession of poverty, devotion to the broken heart of Christ is made tangible also through respond-ing to the suffering of his heart in the poor of today's world. For vowed reli-gious, devotion to the Sacred Heart includes recognition that his heart remains broken, suffering as people continue to betray and reject love, to ignore and neglect the hurt-ing, to strike first. The world's physical, emo-tional, psychological, and mental pain con-tinually shows the heart of Jesus suffering in his Body. Clelia Merloni insisted that "The heart of Jesus, disguised as this particular sick person, calls you to a mission of charity, since the sick make up the very body of Jesus.''17 Clelia exhorts her sister apostles to recognize that where there is sickness, pain, or suffering, there is the open, broken heart of Christ. The profession and living of poverty expresses solidarity with all those who are wounded in and by society, and expresses union with Christ's broken heart suffering today. By professing evangelical poverty, con- Review for Religious secrated religious commit themselves "to eliminating structures of oppression and to promoting projects of solidarity for the benefit of the poor" (VC §89). Only as the poor can we hope to alleviate the suffering of the poor.~8 Through their vows of poverty, chastity, and obedi-ence, consecrated religious express their love with the entirety of their lives. This threefold consecration uni-fies all religious communities. Their distinctive charisms are demonstrated by their various ways of expressing this consecration. The founder of my congregation, Clelia Merloni, was entrusted with a particular charism within Sacred Heart devotion--a charism to be apostles of the Sacred Heart. Her apostles were to be characterized by zeal and charity, but more importantly by one aspect of Sacred Heart devotion: reparation. She pleads with her apostles to make their lives relevant to the church's mission in the world: "Our congregation needs subjects who are strong and robust in virtue, not pious statues!''19 Sacred Heart devotion, for Clelia and her apostles, always implies responding to the living heart of Christ through lives of reparation. Zeal and charity are insufficient for those professing vows as Apostles of the Sacred Heart. Only when we are motivated by a spirit of reparation can we be seen clearly as apostles of the Sacred Heart devo-tion. What, then, is the nature, meaning, and relevance of the reparation this congregation fosters? A New Interpretation of Reparation Theologically reparation has often been mistakenly equated with atonement and expiation. Atonement is "an act of divine love that effects a new state of things, the peaceful relationship between God and man. Man is reconciled to God. atonement is effected through the 161 68.2 2009 Herbers * Reparation and the Sacred Heart blood of the cross . man is placed in a new relation to God.''2° Atonement, therefore, is effected once and for all in the death and resurrection of Jesus. Christ's death and resurrection made humanity "at-one" with God, reconciling a broken relationship, correcting and reversing the effects, of human sinfulness, thus mak-ing humanity's "atonement" not only unnecessary but impossible. Expiation is closely related to. atonement in that it is appeasement by sacrifice, specifically the sac-rifice of Jesus' death, which appeased God's justice and "remove[d] the cause of the sinner's alienation from God in. order to restore him to holiness and divine favor.''2' Taken to their logical ends, these notions of atone-ment and expiation .seem to perceive "the love of God given us in Christ Jesus" as either correction of a rela-tionship gone awry or Christ's willing acceptance of the penalty of death due us. In this context, the practice of reparation seems to be about "repairing" broken-ness, "atoning for" sinfulness, and "making up" for wrongdoing as we model our life on Jesus Christ. This is the vision of reparation in Pius XI's 1928 encycli-cal Miserentissimus Redemptor (§18): "Whosoever of the faithful have piously pondered on all these things must needs be inflamed with the charity of Christ in his agony and make a more vehement endeavor to expi-ate their own faults and those of others, to repair the honor of Christ, and to promote the eternal salvation of souls." This "atoning" and "expiative" sense speaks of a need for humanity to repent, convert, and wor-ship, but nowhere does it speak of the invitation given to humanity to love in the face of brokenness, that the heart of God may be loved and not rejected. I propose that, in the context of Sacred Heart devotion, reparation speaks direcdy of this invitation: "The focus of God's Review for Religious ¯ forgiveness in Christ is less on a word that is spoken to assuage guilt and more on a transformation of relation-ships-- with God and with other human beings."22 As seen above, religious consecration is a response of love prompted by the recognition and humble accep-tance of the unconditional, sacrificial love of God. Each of the vows has been shown to uniquely manifest, in the light of devotion to the Sacred Heart, a particular aspect of our loving response. Reparation, as a dis-tinctive response of love, is a particular expression of Sacred Heart devotion. It is a response of love to the broken heart of Christ, as when we see someone we love (and also Someone) hurting, broken, bleeding, and in pain, and want to--need to, are impelled t0--respond in manners worthy of love. William Temple, archbishop of Canterbury during World War II, claimed that the motive for reparation is that we not "go on wounding one who accepts our wounds like that; we are filled with fear, not the old craven fear of punishment, but the fear of wounding the tenderest of all hearts.''23 Reparation does not necessar-ily seek to repair the wrongdoing (for we may not be responsible for it), but seeks to respond to the broken heart of our loved One by offering concrete, tangible acts of love. This authentic healing power of reparation '~"The focus of God's forgiveness in Christ is less on a word that is spoken to assuage guilt .and more on a transformation of relationships-with God andwith othe~r human beings." 163 68.2 2009 Herbers * Reparation and the Sacred Heart 164 was understood by Aquinas: "When one. is in pain, it is natural that the sympathy of a friend should afford con-solation., because, when a man's friends console him, he sees that he is loved by them, and this affords him pleasure. Consequently, since every pleasure assuages sorrow, it follows that sorrow is mitigated by a sympa-thizing friend" (ST I-II.38.3). To extend this idea to how human acts of love serve as loving reparation to Christ, John Paul II said in another place: "In the heart of Christ the human heart comes., to unite filial love for God with love for the neighbor. In this way--and this is the true meaning of the reparation asked for by the heart of the Savior--on the ruins heaped up by hatred and violence can be built the civilization of love so greatly desired, the kingdom of the heart of Christ.''24 For the Apostles of. the Sacred Heart, it is imperative that they understand rightly their mission in the church and their ministry in the world. Their witness of repara-tive love can show all the faithful what their response to the brokenness of our world must be. Reparation, far from being an obsolete relic, is an essential component of Clelia Merloni's charism, and a unique way for her apostles to live their vows of poverty, chastity, and obe-dience. Experiencing Jesus as God's incarnate love, they are called to respond as incarnate love to his open heart still broken in the woundedness of his loved ones. In respond-ing, they are not merely practicing their own personal spirituality; they are engaging in their ministry. As Pius XII said in Haurietis aquas (§112), "In show-ing devotion to the most Sacred Heart of Jesus, the external acts of piety have not the first or most impor-tant place; nor is its essence to be found primarily in the benefits to be obtained." Rather, reparation must be a dynamic response of love, reaching out to the broken- Review for Religious ness of humanity--at any given moment, in any given circumstance. "The practical good that emerges in the event [of reparative love] is seen not only in the inward realm of personal and spiritual values, but in the trans-formation of the material order through which the val-ues are expressed.''25 Living her congregation's motto, "Caritas Christi urget nos!" (2 Co 5:14), consumed by the love of God given her in Christ Jesus, an apostle the Sacred Heart "returns love for Love" by the gift of her life of vowed chastity and reaches out to ev.eryone in selfless service. By her vowed obedience she matches her heartbeat to the heart of God. By their vowed poverty she is free to give her all to the broken hearts around her. She accepts humbly the gifts she receives from the incarnate, inflamed, obedient, and open heart of Jesus and returns them as her gift to his Body, the church. The reparative value of these gifts lies in its heal-ing power for the broken heart of Christ in the church and in the world. Reparation from this n~w perspective is most assuredly, then, not merely valuable for those among the faithful who may be attracted to it as a pious practice, but a vital mission entrusted to each mem-ber of the church. Reparative love is the love of God poured out through us, incarnate in the members of Christ's Body, embodied in real hands and real hearts. Reparative love speaks a word of selflessness to a world broken by hatred and individualism. It lives a life of generosity in a world broken by selfishness and fear. It breathes a promise of forgiveness for a world broken by resentment and injustice and gives a hand of compassion to a world broken by suspicion and greed. Reparation is anything but old-fashioned piety entrenched in sen-timentalism or self-derogation. Rightly understood in the brokenness of our contemporary experience, repa- 165 68.2 2009 Herbers * Reparation and the Sacred Heart 166. ration is the tender answer of hearts on fire, yearning to express themselves boldly, so that brokenness and woundedness may always and only be answered with all-consuming love, centered in God, reaching out to every one of God's beloved people. Notes I Quoted in Annice Callahan, Karl Rahner's Spirituality of the Pierced Heart (Lanham, Maryland: University Press of America, 1985), pp. 108, 110-111. 2 See Patricia E Walter, "Religious Life in Church Documents," Review for Religious 51, no. 4 (July-August 1992), and Nadine Foley, "The Nature and Future of Religious Life," Origins 19, no. 13 (1989): 212. 3 Michael Himes, "Returning to Our Ancestral Lands," Review for Religious 59, no. 1 (January-February 2000): 18. 4 Sandra Schneiders, Selling All (New York: Paulist Press, 2001), pp. 108, 114. s It is important to be aware of this rich history as we examine Sacred Heart devotion from a modern perspective. For a more com-prehensive examination of the history of the devotion, see Timothy O'Donnell's Heart of the Redeemer (Manassas, Virginia: Trinity Communications, 1989) and Joseph Stierli's Heart of the Saviour: A Symposium on Devotion to the Sacred Heart (New York: Herder and Herder, 1958). 6john Paul II, "Letter to Bishop Raymond Seguy, Bishop of Autun, Chalon, and Macon, June 22, 1990," in Holy Father, Sacred Heart, ed. Carl J. Moell SJ (New York: Crossroad, 2004), p. 210. 7 Augustine, Sermons on the New Testament 7(7). s Thomas Aquinas, ST 1/-1/.81.3 ad 3. See Pius XII, Haurietis aquas (1956), §103. 9 Benedict xvI, letter on the fiftieth anniversary of Haurietis aquas, 15 May 2006. 10 Benedict XVI, Deus caritas est (2005), §17. '~ Sandra Schneiders, New Wineskins (New York: Paulist Press, 1986), p. 109. ,2 Schneiders, New Wineskins, pp. 105, 106. ~3 Clelia Merloni, Spiritual Anthology, ed. Pierpaula de Farias (Rome: privately printed, 1992), pp. 167, t73. Review for Religious ,4 Quoted in Christopher E Mooney, Teilhard de Chardin and the Mystery of Christ (Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday Image, 1968), pp. 28-29. 15 John Paul II, "Homily during Sacred Heart devotions and beati-fication of Father Stefan Wincenty Frelichowski, at the Aviation Club in Torun, June 7, 1999," in Holy Father, Sacred Heart, p. 112. 16 John Paul II, "Homily at the Polyclinic of the Agostino Gemelli University Hospital in Rome, June 28, 1984," in Holy Father, Sacred Heart, p. 47. 17 Merloni, Spiritual Anthology, p. 167. ,s James Alison poignandy elucidates this idea with his concept of the "intelligence of the victim." See Knowing Jesus (London: Ashford Colour Press, 1998). 19 Merloni, Spiritual Anthology, p. 334. 20 Kenneth E Dougherty, "Atonement," in New Catholic Encyclopedia, 2nd ed. (Detroit: Gale, 2003), vol. 1, p. 837. 21 Lucien Richard, "Expiation (in Theology)," in New Catholic Encyclopedia, 2nd ed., vol. 5, p. 565. 22 L. Gregory Jones, "The Craft of Forgiveness," Theology Today 50, no. 3 (October 1993): 356. 23 William Temple, The Faith and Modern Thought, quoted in Leonard Hodgson, The Doctrine of Atonement (New York: Scribners, 1951), p. 80. 24 See the letter of John Paul II to Father Peter-Hans Kolvenbach sJ on the Canonization of Blessed Claude la Colombi~re SJ, in UOsservatore Romano, English edition, 27 October 1986, and referred to by Benedict xvI (see note 9 above). 25 G.W.C. Thomas, "Reparation: The Sevenfold Pattern of Redemption," Church Quarterly Review 158, no. 327 (April-June 1957): 165. ,167 68.2 2009 JAMES H. SCHIMELPFENING Being Heard, Being Healed: Learning from the Quaker Tradition We cannot change the world by a new plan, project, or idea. We cannot even change other people by our convictions, stories, advice, and proposals, but we can offer a space where people are encouraged to disarm themselves, lay side their occupations and preoccupa-tions, and listen with attention and care to the voices speaking in their own center. --Henri Nouwen1 168 Community is a word that is tossed around a lot, but is hard to define. My own religious order and those who share in the Marianist tradition embrace community as a constitutive part of our mission and identity, and thus we engage in countless conversations discerning its meaning, the place it has in our lives, and how it is to be an instrument of mission. After thirty-five years of religious life and after living in communities on four continents, my experience of community is all over the board. Sometimes I am most grateful for it, but other times it has been quite the opposite. James H. Schimelpfening SM lives at Marianist Community; Meyer Hall; 4435 East Patterson Road; Dayton, Ohio 45430. Review for Religious Recently I experienced community in an utterly refreshing and transformative way. I participated in a series of six seasonal retreats based on the Quaker tradition and the work of Parker Palmer. The Center for Courage and Renewal, partially funded by Lilly Endowment, offered these retreats for clergy and con-gregational leaders) The approximately twenty partici-pants represented a variety Of religious denominations, including a young Jewish woman and myself, the only Catholic. That in itself made the retreats interesting and delightful. These retreats, spread over eighteen months, opened up and stretched my idea and sense of community. I want to share with you something of the enriching, grace-filled, contemplative experience that the retreats were for me. Welcoming the True Self One of the principal resources for the retreats was Parker Palmer's A Hidden Wholeness: The Journey toward an Undivided Life. He portrays community as "one that knows how to welcome the soul"--or true self--and how to hear its voice within oneself. He refers to this kind of community as a circle of trust, a revealing name. Such a community, he writes, allows us to reach in towards our wholeness, out towards the world's need, while living at "the intersection of the two.''3 This intersection is sometimes a daunting place to be. One needs to be with others who, in the right sort of way, support and encourage each other in their moving inward and outward. Often, at least in my experience of community, issues and concerns are discussed, debated, and at times argued; then votes are taken, and there are winners and losers. Tensions, often subtle but barely hidden, may 169 68.2 2009 Scbimelpfening ¯ Being Heard, Being Healed remain. As a result, people keep trying to fix each other or straighten the others out. Advising and rectifying implies that one knows what is good for others if only they would acknowledge it. Community harmony and peace become elusive, and passive-aggressive behavior comes to the fore. Life in community has taught me that violence has many forms that give pain and raise suspicion and result in protective walls. Often persons are diminished and given less respect in favor of group-think or the institution itself.4 Life in community some-times fails to lead persons to wholeness or holiness, and when such failings occur the mission too falters. Touchstones In the series of retreats that I was part of, there was a quite different style of community and way of being present to one another and ultimately to oneself. I have experienced it also in other religious and church com-munities, but only rarely, and even more rarely as an intentional way of being together. In each retreat of this series, one of the first things we did was review the Circle of Trust Touchstones, the guidelines for all of our time together, not only when we were "sitting in the circle." We would: ¯ presume, extend, and receive welcome. ¯ be present as fully as possible. ¯ offer by invitation, not demand. ¯ speak our truth in ways that respect other people's ¯ not fix, save, advise, or set each other straight. ¯ learn to respond with honest, open questions. ¯ turn to wonder when the going got tough. ¯ attend to our own inner teacher. ¯ trus~t.and learn from and in the silence. ¯ observe deep confidentiality. ¯ know that it is possible to leave the circle with Review for Religious whatever you needed and that the seeds planted could and would keep growing. To live these touchstones intentionally takes work and demands attention, but something good happens and a different environment is created. These touchstones were practical and crucial for our community because we were so diverse. We were men and women, ordained and nonordained, Christian and Jewish, various races and ages, formed in different religious traditions with different doctrines and creeds, coming from all over the country, and having various personali-ties and committed relationships. It was only by living these touchstones that something new and deep could be born, so that we could move beyond differences that would normally keep us separate. Living these touchstones introduced ways of being together that led to deeper respect for persons and enduring bonds of friendship and trust. It is all too easy to focus on what is different and what is perceived to be "wrong," instead of expe-riencing what is right. This environment made it pos-sible to speak and listen in a gender and more attentive manner. It is all too easy tofocus on what is different and what is perceived to be "wrong," instead ,of experiencing what is right. Circles of Trust Parker Palmer calls such a community a circle of trust. The name, in my experience, is descriptive. We would sit in an unbroken circle with no one coming first or being 171 68.2 2009 Schimelpfening ¯ Being Heard, Being Healed 172j last, no beginning or end.In the center of the circle would be a small table with a candle and flowers that would serenely hold our attention, and hold us together like the hub of a wheel. When speaking we would "speak to the circle," not across the circle as groups may do and thereby tend to debate and break down the sense of the whole, of community. That happened to us once, and the feel of the group changed and became charged with something that we recognized as not helpful, not what we desired. We returned to speaking to the circle, not across it, and the environment healed. "Speaking to the circle" is speaking from one's own inner self to the center of the circle, where all that is said is held attentively and respectfully. There is no speaking from one ego to another, nor is it about try-ing to impress or persuade. It is simply about expressing oneself, a kind of sharing that is less stressful and much more peaceful,s Trust is what constitutes the circle; without trust there is no circle. Trust makes the space safe for sharing one's truth without fear of judgment or criticism. This trust grows deeper over time. As I share these reflections, I realize that a circle of trust can seem like avoidance of conflict, blind acceptance, lack of discernment, or some such idea. It might even seem "new age" and shallow. My experience, however, is just the opposite. A circle of trust and living the touchstones allow for something deep to emerge and grow and bear fruit. Circles of trust allow more truths to come to light and authentic relationships to form. It is interesting and even important to note that Quakers do not avoid diffi-cult situations, but instead are present to them differently. That is why historically Quakers have often been present where thorny social issues like justice, peacemaking, and reconciliation are being pondered and evaluated. Review for Religious A circle of trust forms a community that allows per-sons to be attentive to their inner self, what we often refer to as one's true self. This true self can surface in an enviroriment that is encouraging, one that is respectful, silent, attentive, and caring. As Parker Palmer points out, a circle of trust is focused on an inward journey and invisible yet very real pow-ers. The purpose of the circle is to support each person's inner journey. A circle of trust lives the paradox of "being alone together," of being present to one another as a "community of solitudes."6 Solitude and community, rightly understood, go together; they are not opposed. In truth, everyone needs both the interior intimacy that comes from solitude and the otherness that comes from life in community. The purpose of this community is to allow the true self, the self in God, to present itself. Unfortunately, however, too many "communities" do not provide this environment; instead, they scare the true self away. It withdraws into the shadows because it does not feel safe to come forward. We wear masks and do not share what is most truly our own. Too often we do not even know what is most true within us. A circle of trust community is made of people who know how to sit quietly and wait for the soul, the true self, to show its face. The relationships within it are "not pushy, but patient; not confrontational, but compassionate; they are filled, not with expectations and demands, but with abiding faith in the reality of the inner teacher and in each person's capacity to learn from it." In my experience, it is atypical to find a community that has people who have the capacity for this kind of presence to each other. "The people who help us grow toward true self," Parker Palmer writes, "offer uncondi-tional love. They don't judge or try to change us. They 173 68.2 2009 Schimelpfening * Being Heard, Being Healed do offer and hold hopeful expectancy, creating the space that safeguards and encourages the inner journey."7 This is an incredible gift to offer one another, and within this form of community we find, I believe, the greatest potential for growth and transformation. What most people desire is to be heard and honored. As one fellow retreatant commented, "To be heard is to be healed!" Too often in community and in conver-sation we do not feel we have been genuinely heard or respected, and this only deepens wounds and pro- ~_ duces greater alienation. In the circle of trust, deep ¯ .~.L listening to one another, as well as to oneself, is paramount and happens rather naturally. Listening deeply is a nonviolent act; it is an amazing gift to offer. Patient listening, and forming circles of trust according to the touchstones, moves against the .grain of our habitual culture--both secular, and religious. Circles of trust are about listen-ing, expectant listening. This kind of listening only goes deeper with time and is all about God. God is the one who makes such listening possible and who gives us the hunger and thirst for it. God beckons, and we soon dis-cover that all that is good comes from the hand of God. Ultimately, God is the goal of our listening, for in so doing we can discern and do the work of God.s The content is simple, and its purpose is to open us to deeper listening and reflection. We would use poetry, stories, songs, or reflection. Metaphor plays an important part in this kind of sharing because images, allegories, allow us to approach from a slant, not head- What most people desire is to be heardand honoredl , Review for Religious on; they bring into play much more than the intellect. Metaphor has a way of surprising, even seducing the heart and soul, while tricking the mind into taking another look and discovering mystery in the process. We all belong to numerous kinds of groups and com-munities, each offering something unique and respond-ing to different needs. Circles of trust, however, generate within me a longing for such a community within the church and in religious life. Such a community, it seems to me, creates an environment that encourages and sup-ports deep growth and leads to holiness. Circles of trust might not seem to be as useful or as practical and func-tional as other groups might be, and so one considers circles of trust idealistic, utopian, unrealistic, even for religious or church communities. I would disagree. If we strove towards such deep trust and respect, many of the functional things we now squabble about would sim-ply disappear, and other practical details of life would take care of themselves. If they had to be dealt with, conversation and decision making about them would be quite different. We too easily forget that even our busi-ness meetings have a spiritual component and, hope-fully, necessitate a listening for truth.9 The experience and outcome would be a lot healthier, and life together would be more amiable, more authentic, and even more reflective of the gospel and Christian living. Circles of trust and community are not about numbers, but about the quality of the space created and shared. As Parker Palmer notes in A Hidden Wholeness, we live divided lives. We live alienated from our true selves, and end up feeling depressed, aimless, anxious, or angry. We feel the pain of being alienated from our own truth. We yearn to be centered,1° and a circle of trust creates the space where centering can happen and foster wholeness. 68.2 2009 Scbimelpfening * Being Heard, Being Healed A Spiritual Experience Although not always described this way explicitly, circles of trust are a spiritual experience, and the retreats I participated in were, beyond doubt, retreats. They were days of communing with God, with the Spirit of God very much alive and present within us and among us. The retreats were distinctly reflective and contempla-tive, with time for being alone and time for sharing with another or with the entire circle. The environment of the retreat center itself was ideal,ll The Tibetan chime would draw us into silence and into the circle. I found it easy to recall that, where two or three are gathered in God's name, God is truly present. The entire environ-ment was charged with the holiness of God. It was an experience of the shekinah of God. Clearness Committees Those familiar with the Quaker tradition know that forming Clearness Committees is an important part of their life. Each of our retreats set aside time for the work of Clearness Committees. I found myself refer-ring to them as Quaker discernment, a way of listening for truth, truth that is .not imposed from outside, but arises from within. This was one of the most important experiences of discernment that I have ever engaged in, most especially with a group, and was for me a highlight of our time together. This discernment is not done fir us, as sometimes occurs. Instead, in a circle of trust, in a safe, reflective space, we are engaged in our own dis-cernment, in our own way and time, with the encourag-ing and challenging presence of people who really and truly care for us)2 Clearness Committees help the focus person (who has asked for its help)13 to walk an inner iourney. They do so by their presence, asking open and Review for Religious honest questions, not interpreting or offering advice, not judging or fixing, but treating the person carefully as he or she looks and listens deeply. There is no con-flict of agendas or egos; there is only one focus person with one agenda. Just as the circles of trust offer a new way of conceiv-ing community, so the Clearness Committees offer a new way of helping persons make decisions about the direction of their life. I found here an incredible respect for the person and belief in the action of God. Instead of decisions, especially the more personal decisions, being made by others, a Clearness Committee allows for a form of listening and obedience that holds promise of greater life for the person and also, in the long run, for others and for ministry. Clearness Committees were a primary factor in draw-ing me to the seasonal retreats, for I was doing discern-ment in my own life. A series of circumstances along with much that was moving within my own heart and soul had made me wonder where the Spirit might be leading me. I needed and desired some form of guidance, and I needed to enter more deeply into a process of discernment, but I did not want someone or a group telling me what to do. I was desperately seeking someone or a group willing to walk with me, providing the safe place where I could be open and vulnerable in my discerning reflection. In my own religious community this did not seem possible. My superiors were likely to approach my questions as an administrative concern and decision, but did not seem able to walk with me in the way I needed. The seasonal retreats, however, with the circles of trust and the blessed opportunity to be the focus person of a Clearness Committee drew me like a bee to nectar. I asked for a Clearness Committee to sit with me not 177 68.2 2009 Scbimelpfening * Being Heard, Being Healed Such d cision ,making; demands great patienee, and a strongcom i m n once but twice. The experience was powerful because of the safe, caring environment and the confidentiality, the love and faith, that were present. The immediate experi-ence was powerful, but I was surprised and delighted by how it continued to reveal truths in the following days, weeks, and months. Did I receive an immediate answer? No. Were there "aha" moments? More later, than at the time. Was clarity received? Yes, but much more came long after the experience was over. Such decision making demands great patience and a strong commitment to the process: it can take time for the truth to come to light. Quakers are good at waiting and supporting one another in this invest-ment of time and pres-ence, doing so in the belief that a truth can and will come to light and, when it does, can be embraced with one's whole self. One lets the work of God pro-ceed and reveal itself. This "Quaker discernment" takes as long as is needed. It is exceedingly countercul-rural in our quick-fix, fast-food, I-want-it-now culture. If, as religious communities, church, and church min-istries, we could learn to discern in this way, I believe that both community life and ministry would be a good deal richer. Going Home As a high introvert when I first began attending the retreats, I was uncertain about it, but, having read A Hidden Wholeness the year before, I was curious enough Review for Religious to give it a whirl and see what would happen. After the first couple of retreats, I felt completely at home, and, although I never knew what the experience of any particular retreat would be, I soon learned to trust the Spirit, believing that whatever would happen would be grace--and I was never disappointed. It seemed that each retreat was its own "peak" experience that helped me go deeper and deeper into my soul while being sup-portive of others doing the same. Many retreats, even when powerful, are one-shot experiences, but this series of retreats, organized accord-ing to the seasons of the year, allowed for sacred remem-bering of what happened previously and delving into it once again from a slightly different slant, so that further truth could be discovered. On top of everything else, this was a wonderful ecumenical and interfaith setting that opened many wonderful doors. The most difficult part of each retreat was returning home to community and ministry. Although I would return deeply renewed, I saw that my recent experience of community would not be present back home. Every three months, as the next retreat drew near, I would look forward to it with great anticipation. My challenge now is to live the expe-rience and find ways to invite others into these circles of trust so that they too may have the joy and benefit of entering them that I have had. As I noted earlier, there are many different forms of community and many different definitions of commu-nity. Dietrich Bonhoeffer once said, "Community is not an ideal; it is people."14 1 believe that what the Quaker tradition and Parker Palmer offer is worth exploring and experiencing as a very practical way of forming and being community. "By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another" (Jn 13:35). r179 68.2 2009 Scbimelpfening ¯ Being Heard, Being Healed Notes ' As quoted in Mark Nepo, The Exquisite Risk: Daring to Live An Authentic Life (New York: Three Rivers Press, 2005). z Center for Courage and Renewal, www.couragerenewal.org. 3 Parker Palmer, A Hidden Wholeness: TbeJourney toward an Undivided Life (San Francisco: Jossey Bass, 2004), pp. 22, 25.4 The word person is used intentionally; not individual. The distinction is critical. 5 Palmer, Hidden I~oleness, pp. 118-119. 6 Palmer, Hidden Wholeness, p. 54. 7 Palmer, Hidden Wholeness, pp. 59, 60. 8 Michael Waida, Expectant Listening: Finding God's Thread of Guidance (Wallingford, Pennsylvania: Pendle Hill ~ublicationsi 2007), p. 16. 9 Wajda, Expectant Listening, p. 22. ,0 Palmer, Hidden Wholeness, pp. 45-46. " Santa Sabina Center, San Rafael, California. 12 Palmer, Hidden Wholeness, p. 27. ~3 The focus person asks for Clearness Committee assistance regard-ing a question or issue that he or she is struggling with and seeking light about. ,4 Jean Vanier, From Brokenness to Community (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1992), p. 35. 180] Personal Reflection and/or Group Discussion What has been your own occasion of experiencing the kind of "words of trust" that animate community life? Have you or has your community developed your own special ways of deepening the trust and faith-sharing integral to religious community living? How would you describe it and how often is it used? Review for Religious DORIS GOTTEMOELLER Religious Habits Reconsidered Years ago, when we were just beginning to wear secular dress, a sister friend remarked to me that she never noticed what anyone else was wearing. The remark struck me because I thought she was missing an important commu-nication from others. But, upon reflection later, it seemed likely that she meant that everyone deserves our respect, whether clad in rags or riches, in style or out--a conviction that I share. Also, I thought, she ,was probably indi-cating she is less sensate than I. As the years passed, however, with religious habits less and less in ,evidence, I have occa-sionally thought of investigating the topic more deeply. Comments such as these persist: "If you wore a habit, you'd get more vocations" and "Real sisters wear habits." They imply that our Doris Gottemoeller RSM last wrote .for us in 2005. Her address remains Catholic Healthcare Partners; 615 Elsinore Place; Cincinnati, Ohio 45202. 1181 68.2 2009 Gottemoeller * Religious Habits Reconsidered transition in dress is symbolic of an abandonment of val-ues or identity. It is hard at times not to feel defensive. No doubt there is scholarly literature available about the significance of dress through the ages. Dress as an indicator of social class and status, the change from toga and tunic to trousers and dresses, the influence of climate and occupation, and the development of new fabrics and methods of production--all of this has prob-ably been studied. I have not consulted any of it. First, I want simply to recall and describe this period of change. Then I will reflect on the significance of a religious habit for women and of the many decisions to forgo it. I will close with some questions for reflection and dialogue. Some readers may assume that there is noth-ing to be learned from the decisions made so long ago, but I think that some reflection can bear fruit for our present and future. What a Habit Is Not A religious habit is not a costume, a dress that tempo-rarily provides a new identity, either for dramatic effect or for fun. Costumes are worn in stage productions and at Halloween parties. A disguise is another form of temporary identity, one intended to deceive people. A vestment is worn to temporarily designate that one is performing a sacred function. Nor is a religious habit a uniform. Commentators ask, "Vv'hy don't you wear a uniform like airline atten-dants, nurses, and police personnel?" These uniforms signify professional qualification and a certain authority. In given situations their wearers are entided to respect because of their official function. Note, though, that uniforms often admit of variations. The attendants on a plane may be wearing slacks, shorts, or skirts, with or Review for Religious without coordinating jackets or sweaters. They are all in uniform, but they choose different forms of it. Nursing uniforms, too, admit of variation, even within the same department or on the same floor of a hospital. In contrast to any of these options, the religious habit was a permanent and unchanging garb. The cloth-ing ceremony at the beginning of novitiate signified a new identity, which one intended eventually to make lifelong. As we dressed each morning, we said prayers specific to each item of clothing. For the habit itself we prayed, "Clothe my soul, 0 Lord, with the nuptial - - robe of charity that I may carry it pure and undefiled before Thy judgment seat," The prayer for donning the cincture was "0 Lord Jesus Christ, who became obedi-ent unto death, even the death of the cross, grant me the true spirit of religious obedience." In my experience there were no optional choices around color or design or style, very litde adaptation to climate or occupation. Permission to wear a white habit in nursing care and in the tropics is the only possibility I can recall. The clothing ceremony at the beginning of novitiate sig nified a new identity. The Mandate to Change Before the mandate of Vatican Council II to update, our habit was the only dress we wore. In my experi-ence each sister had two habits, a heavy pleated wool serge version for Sundays and feast days and an every-day version in a lighter fabric. Neither was really wash-able. We wore a knee-length black veil, inner and wide outer sleeves, a leather cincture to which was attached a 183 68.2 2009 Gottemoeller ¯ Religious Habits Reconsidered 841 long rosary, and a starched white cotton coif and guimpe which we changed on Sunday and at midweek. Heavy black stockings and black oxfords completed the ensem-ble. Going out in winter required a shawl or a long black cloak with a heavy black veil pinned over the house veil. This habit was worn 365 days of the year, from rising in the morning to retiring at day's end, in the convent, the classroom, or the hospital, at work or recreation, at home or abroad. The habit was everywhere recognizable and, when clean and pressed, somewhat graceful and attractive. It was also economical: the daily habit lasted several years and the Sunday habit for many years. Thus it was a witness to poverty. The design had remained essentially the same for over 130 years. But, despite its familiarity and attractiveness, the habit was unsanitary, unsafe, and ill-suited to the climate in many places. It was also impractical for many occupations such as housework or recreational sports. Furthermore, all of the parts had to be sewn by hand. Keeping perspi-ration from the starched linens which encircled the face in hot weather was another challenge. Considerations such as these prompted the conciliar directive: "Habits should be simple and modest, at once poor and becoming. They should meet the requirements of health and be suited to the circumstances of time and place as well as to the services required by those who wear them. Habits of men and women which do not correspond to those norms are to be changed" (Perfectae caritatis § 17). This directive prompted the first genera-tion of modified or updated habits. Chapters reviewed designs, and each congregation chose one which seemed to embody the desired improvements. For the Sisters of.Mercy of the Union, this transition occurred in the summer of 1968. The new habit was mid-calf in length Review for Religious and could be purchased from a manufacturer's catalogue in an array of sizes. A veil which came just below the shoulders was attached to a white cap which left some hair exposed in front. The habit was washable, and nothing was starched. From Modified Habit to Secular Dress Why didn't this updated habit, which responded to the conciliar mandate, last? Here the story becomes more complex. As the decades passed, most congrega-tions loosened or eliminated their requirements that everyone wear a habit, even for professional or formal occasions, I would suggest that the following are some of the f~ctors that led to this evolution. First, the change of dress coincided with other changes that brought us into new settings and new cir-cumstances. Permission to travel without a companion and to drive an auto-mobile were two sig-nificant changes. No longer~did we have to depend on employ-ees or volunteer lay-persons to chauffeur us to professional meetings, doctors' appointments, the library or grocery, or a museum, movie, or sporting event. Freedom from the need for a sister companion encouraged individual choices about where to go or what to do with one's discretionary time. Some outings were with only lay friends or relatives. Individuals did not necessarily want to stand out in such settings. The introduction of personal budgets was another change Why .didn't this updated habit, which re.sponded to the conciliar mandate, last? 68.2 2009 Gottemoeller ¯ Religious Habits Reconsidered that facilitated variation in dress, as individuals could choose where they wished to shop and what they wished to buy. Another limit to the success of updated habits was the matter of style. As long as we were in 18th- or 19th-century garb, there was no relationship to any contem-porary style. But an adaptation to "circumstances of time and place" suggests at least some relationship to what other people are wearing. Hemlines are a case in point. Should they be adjusted upward and downward with changing styles? What about the size and proportions of the individual sister? The traditional habit swathed her in so many yards of fabric that her figure was effectively concealed, but the modified habit was more flattering to some than to others. Does everyone have to wear the same color? Do you wear the same thing for scrubbing the kitchen floor, lecturing before a class, attending a board meeting, and playing tennis on Saturday after-noon? Considerations such as these meant that individ-uals almost immediately began modifying the modified habit and also acquiring supplementary wardrobes for occasions when a habit was deemed inappropriate. The question of a veil comes in for special consid-eration. Questions of comfort, ideology, and style inter-mingled. In the old habit, when no hair was visible, we usually cut it very short for comfort. As soon as some hair was visible, it had to be styled. And not every style looked good peeping out from a veil. Keeping a veil anchored on one's head was sometimes a challenge. More significandy, the veil signified for some a femi-nine subservience to men. (Around that time, women gave up wearing hats and veils in church, and nurses stopped wearing caps with their uniforms.) Some argued that the veil was intended to symbolize virginity. Well, Review for Religious if it did, then shouldn't male religious who take a vow of celibacy also wear them? As we began to experiment with lay dress, some continued to wear the veil for a time, leading to some unfortunate combinations of flowered dresses topped off with veils. (Interestingly, the appearance of Islamic women clad in burqas and veils in Western cities was still too rare to invite a com-parison.) Another circumstance that promoted individual choice of dress was the movement toward individual-ism overall in Western culture. This is a phenomenon that would require books to chronicle and critique both its lights and shadows, but the point here is khat we were not immune from its influence. Religious life is essentially a communitarian commitment, but in many ways--not only choice of dress--it has embraced, or at least permitted, a wider expression of personal choice. While we were experimenting with dress, we were also exploring new ministries, new living arrangements, and new prayer styles. Much of this was a healthy reaction to practices which had encouraged immaturity, but some of it has diminished our corporate identity and witness. Nevertheless, choosing how to present oneself on a particular occasion or in a particular setting can be a revelation of one's personal judgment and self-iden-tification. Looking Back on the Changes in Dress The first thing that can be said is that the changes described here proceeded without a lot of self-reflection. We lacked the critical distance necessary to analyze the consequences of our choices or their interaction with other choices we were making. At times we hesitated to raise the issue in community for fear of seeming

Issue 40.3 of the Review for Religious, May/June 1981. ; 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. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. © 1981 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription U.S.A.: $9.00 a year; $17.00 for two years. Other countries: $10.00 a year; $19.00 for two years. For subscriplion orders or change of address, write: REVIFW I:OU RELIGIOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55802. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Jeremiah L. Alberg, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Book Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor May/June, 1981 Volume 40 Number 3 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REVIEW RELtGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; Jesuit Community; St. Joseph's University; City Avenue at 54th St.; Philadelphia, PA 19131. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from REVII-:w for RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. The Feel of Apostolic Contemplation-in- Action David J. Hassel, S.J. Father Hassel's earlier article, "The Fourth Level of Prayer: Mystery," appeared in the November, 1980 issue. The present article is also a chapter from his projected book on prayer. Father's address is: Jesuit Community; Loyola University; 6525 N. Sheridan Rd.; Chicago, IL 60626. To contemplate is to see a thing or an event or a person as a whole. It is to grasp the totality of a situation and then to let wonder rise, deep fears and hopes surface, the fire of ambition be kindled, and the still-point of one's being touched. Thus contemplation not only views wholeness but also begins to instill it in the contemplator, an experience much needed in our fragmenting times. Persons lacking commitment to focus their energies, families lacking the love to heal their wounds, and nations lacking noble purpose to render them united--all need contemplation as much as the thirsty and starving need drink and food.' Now the power of contemplation appears in theaction which it structures and directs. Thus contemplation-in-action not only carries appreciation for the whole of a situation and thus renders the contemplator more wholesome but also enters into the very situation contemplated to make it more wholesome. For this reason, the more active a person is and the more deeply he or she interacts with others, the more important becomes contemplation for this person's every action. Indeed, the more explicitly tThis thirst and hunger for the meaning and wholeness of life is eloquently and poignantly record-ed in Studs Terkel's interviews with people from all walks of life. His contemplative book, Work-ing (Avon, New York, 1975, pp. xiii-xv) discovers "the happy few who find a savor in their daily job," and the many whose discontent is hardly concealed: 321 322 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 aware we become of contemplation-in-action within our experience, the better we can promote it in ourselves and in others for the healing of our wounded world. But, as always, difficulties arise which keep us from recognizing contem-plation- in-action and from living it more deeply within our experience. First of all, one can observe with envy the high intensity of secular contemplation in the action of artist or business person and can then expect this same intensity to occur within one's own religious contemplation-in-action. False expecta-tions always result in discouragement. Secondly, because monastic people do much of the writing about contemplation, one can mistake monastic contemplation for the apostolic type more characteristic of lay people, diocesan clergy, and active religious orders. Again, confusion here can dissipate religious energies. A third problem connected with recognizing contemplation-in-action is that the latter is an awareness permeating all one's activities. Therefore, it cannot be exposed by merely lifting off one or other layer of experience, nor be isolated by tracing its roots in one particular activity. Consequently--and this is the fourth difficulty--contemplation-in-action will express itself in a great variety of modes as it appears at diverse levels of experience and in different activities, even though it may be a single pervasive attitude. As a result, a person may be lamenting his or her failure at contemplation-in-action while unknowingly practicing it with some success. Perhaps the following exploration2 of these four problems may yield some inkling of what contemplation-in-action is and some recognition of how the contemplative-in-action feels. This, in turn, could be the source of new satisfaction in one's life, perhaps even the beginning of a certain settled happiness. Religious Contemplation-in-Action Out of the Secular The first problem facing us is the confusion of secular with religious contemplation-in-action--an understandable mistake since the first naturally leads into the second. Like all forms of contemplation-in-action, the secular variety discovers and promotes remarkable wholeness in the contemplator and in the object contemplated. For example, the portrait-artist, while center-ing her consciousness intensely upon the child to be painted, tends to fall in love with the latter as feeling and insight blend gradually into the beautiful whole of the portrait and of the person portrayed. The craftsman, too, is fascinated as the pitcher, shaping under his hands at the potter's wheel, is lifted out of the clay in a blend of graceful shape with smooth pouring. The 2I am greatly indebted to Vincent Towers, S.J., James Maguire, S.J. and Donald Abel, S.J. for their detailed comments on the rough drafts of this article, to Mrs. Mary Ellen Hayes for advice and technical assistance, to Dr. Julia Lane for expert encouragement, to the Warrenville (!11.) Cenacle community for their helpful.suggestions. Contemplation-in-Action / ~2~ novelist also shares in this disciplined joy of secular contemplation-in-action. Saul Bellow could not have given us Herzog, nor J. D. Salinger presented us with Holden Caulfield of The Catcher in the Rye, unless each had gone through a period of 'possessed aloofness' while in his imagination he watched and chronicled the full-bodied development of Herzog or Holden out of a vast variety of detailed activities. In the artist or craftsman or novelist, then, one witnesses the power of secular contemplation-in-action for producing that beautiful whole which delights the artist's own heart and the hearts of all beholders. But such contemplation-in-action is not limited to the sphere of the arts. Watch parents playing with their firstborn child and note their total concen-tration on eliciting new responses from it. As the child slowly unfolds before their eyes during its first twenty-four months, they become ever more dedicated to educating it to beautiful soundness of body, mind, and emotions. If this is not contemplation-in-action, what is? In a similar way, the neurosurgeon, carefully and even exultantly applying his previous week's study of X rays, medical research, and techniques to a brain operation, also experiences this contemplation-in-action as he restores wholesome life to his patient. So, too, the lawyer contemplates-in-action when she manages to see her way through the myriad details of a personal injury suit towards those underlying legal principles which will structure for her a forceful, tight case on behalf of her client, Nor is the business person without contemplation-in-action when intense ambition is painting a new vision and directing precise lines of energy to effect this vision. The resultant business organization is a daring orchestration of people and processes brought to total life for the wholesome delight of the business person's mind and heart and for the good of the community. Evidently, then, secular contemplation-in-action operates within any work, artistic or scientific, speculative or practical, to produce wholesomeness in both the contemplator and the action-situation. Explicitly, each of us has, in some way, experienced these types of secular contemplation-in-action and implicitly we compare their qualities with those of our own religious contemplation-in-action--to the depreciation of the lat-ter. Each of us asks in guilt: "Where in my religious contemplation-in-action is the intense centering, the fascinated.vision, the possessed aloofness, the total concentration and dedication, the exultant application to life, the deep satisfaction in wholeness, and the intense ambition of secular contemplatives-in- action?" Why should not the religious contemplative-in-action be \ discouraged--especially if he equates secular and religious contemplation-in-action and does not know that they are meant to nourish each other reciprocally and precisely out of their difference. To understand their respec-tive differences, let us consider how they cooperate. Religious contemplation-in-action completes the secular. For the wholes of self and of object discovered by secular contemplation-in-action take on fuller meaning and larger value witfiinthe more comprehensive wholes of the 324 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 everyday world and of God as these are found by religious contemplation-in-action. A dynamic reciprocity operates here between the two types of contemplation-in-action. As the secular contemplative-in-action (artist, business person, parent, neurosurgeon, or lawyer) enters more deeply into the object to find its wholeness, he becomes more aware of his personal wholeness since the intense concentration on the object demands full awareness of his powers. But such total awareness of object and of self eventually leads into fuller awareness of the everyday world since the secular contemplative must fit himself and the object contemplated into the larger world of, e.g., serving a client, supporting a family, relaxing socially with friends; wondering about the worth of the object produced by the secular contemplation-in-action. Eventually every secular contemplative-in-action has to ask those terrible questions: "How do I and my work fit into the ongoing world? Why should I continue to ply my art, trade, profession, parenthood? Where am I, my family, and my work heading finally?" Such questioning usually leads to the more religious questions: "Is there anything more than this total world? Is there someone or something permeating this world and leading it to a higher destiny, a fuller life? Can I contact this mysterious one or am I already doing so?" When such questions finally lead into the experience of a meaningful world and of a transcendent God, then religious contemplation-in-action has evolved out of the secular and now redounds to the enrichment of the latter. To see how this is possible, note what happens when a family friend at-tempts to heal a family quarrel. He listens intently as the various family members describe the events leading up to the quarrel. The friend tries to piece together (to do a secular contemplation of) this setting and the quarrel. Once he feels that he knows the whole scene, he endeavors to help each family member see this whole so that each can experience some healing-into-wholeness as each admits his or her own faults, the good points of other fami-ly members, the need to forgive each other, and the necessity of planning together for a better family future. This secular contemplation starts to become contemplation-in-action when each family member begins to act out of this vision. Such secular contemplation-in-action begins to move into its religious counterpart when each family member finds a reason to act beyond himself or herself for unified family action, e.g., the preservation of the fami-ly tradition or the hope for future family members. Later, this religious contemplation-in-action attains fullness when individually the family members think of themselves and act as Christians carrying Christ's presence within the family, and when socially this same family as a group does healing actions which image the future Great Community of the Great Tomorrow beyond the grave. But factually, this neat cooperation between secular and religious contemplation-in-action often breaks down. There is a tendency in each human to abort secular contemplation-in-action before it can rise into the religious. St. Augustine describes vividly how this happens when a person at- Contemplation-in-Action / 325 tempts .to control the world, his fellow human beings and himself apart from or in conflict with God's law and providence. In this case the secular con-templative so concentrates on another person or a business project or a grand scheme as to lose sight of the more comprehensive wholes of community-justice and of God's people. Here secular contemplation becomes divorced from religious. The result is that the secular contemplative becomes hypnotiz-ed by the object of contemplation (nothing else is of equal value), then abject-ly slavish to the latter (the object becomes the only hope), then frantically con-servative of this object (e.g., a beloved, a job, an ambition or fond hope, a favorite pastime like gambling or fishing, a power over others). Because all the person's efforts are so fiercely focused on saving his project, he tends to dissipate mind, heart, and imagination. Thus, in an ironic way, the con-templating person literally fragments himself in efforts to mold his private world into a lasting wholesomeness which fits his own self-image and peculiar needs, but which fails to fit the true wholeness of the world and the Transcen-dent One. As a result, even a person's secular contemplation-in-action tends to disintegrate when its religious completion is aborted. To put this positively, religious contemplation-in-action is a contempla-tion whose resultant activities aim to render man more wholesome within the wholing of the world as the latter develops within the dynamic whole of the Transcendent God. The vision of Teilhard de Chardin which sees the universe converging towards the transcendent Omega Point is one illustration of religious contemplation-in-action. The exuberance of such religious contemplation-in-action once achieved can then redound upon its secular counterpart to render the latter passionate for truth and eager for beautiful action within its peculiar sphere of influence. F~'om all this it should be clear that secular and religious contemplation-in- action are distinct and mutually modifying phases in the contemplative person's wholesome life.3 To confuse one with the other is, then, to neglect one for the other and even to risk diminishing both since they are so naturally interdependent. But even within.religious contemplation-in-action, there is a further clarification to be made. Its monastic variety is different from the apostolic, even though, again, both types are needed to stimulate and to enrich the life of God's people. Here, too, confusion of one with the other debilitates life. Within Religious Contemplation-in-Action, the Monastic and the Apostolic Differ Discouragement is just as apt to arise from confusing the apostolic and the 3Karl Rahner shows the intimate connection between secular and religious contemplation when he demonstrates that supernaturally elevated transcendentality (i.e., God's self-communication in grace) is mediated by any and every categorical reality, (i.e., by the world). For the Christian, there is no separate sacral realm where alone God is to be found (Foundations of Christian Faith, translated by William V. Dych, Seabury Press, New. York, 1978, pp. 151-152). 326 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 monastic within religious c0ntemplation-in-action as it is from equating secular and religious contemplation-in-action. For, to seek continually the qualities of one in the other is to be permanently misled and disappointed. Although all forms of secular contemplation seek for wholesomeness in con-templator and in object contemplated, nevertheless as many types of secular contemplation occur as there are types of contemplators, e.g., artist, lawyer, neurosurgeon, philosopher, business person, parent, novelist and so on. It should be no great surprise, then, that the monastic religious contemplation-in- action of the Poor Clare or the Carthusian will be different from its apostolic counterpart in the life of lay person or diocesan priest or apostolic religious. In monastic contemplation the monk or nun searches deeply, within the roots of his or her innermost being, for personal wholeness and for the mysterious wholesomeness of God's life within this being. Now such a demand-ing search becomes possible only if the person withdraws from the more active concerns of life in the everyday world of the apostle. In his Contemplative Prayer, Thomas Merton makes it clear that the monk must devote himself in a special way to renunciation, repentance, and prayer if he is to sound the depths of his being for God.' In monastic religious contemplation-in-action, the quiet sinking into self to find God requires a strict control of attention as one undergoes the rigors of hard manual labor, very close community living, sometimes deafening silence, and occasionally piercing loneliness. Thus the relief from cultural pressures which enables monastic religious contemplation-in-action to occur is hardly an escape from suffering the harsh demands of love and of the daily labor for survival. But it is a religious contemplation-in-action diverse from that of the apostle in the world of art, business, medicine, education, and family. Unfortunately, much less is writteri about apostolic religious contemplation-in-action than about the monastic varietywespecially from the view of the layperson.~ Because the apostolic contemplative is ordinarily working in a professional position or a ,trade or a skill-job (secretary, housewife, telephone linesman, and so on) and is frequently involved in team-work, he or she must give much attention to the daily concerns of the world--the very concerns from which the monastic contemplative explicitly withdraws. Ttfis apostolic religious contemplation-in-action is more depend-ent on secular contemplation-in-action for its dynamism because apostolic contemplatives are intently pursuing professional jobs, trades, and skills through eight to ten hours per day. As a result, the apostolic contemplative is more concerned with outer wholeness of self and world, whereas the monastic 'Thomas Merton, Contemplative Prayer (Doubleday-Image, Garden City, N.Y., 1971 pp. 19-20). ~Thomas Vernor Moore's Life of Man with God, (Harcourt Brace~ New York, 1956), though quaint, contains case histories of ordinary people enjoying strong contemplation in action. Contemplation-in-Action / 397 contemplative concentrates more on the inner wholeness. Evidently both types of concern are needed by the civic and ecclesial communities since they complement each other. The outer beauty of technological, scientific, and cultural wholeness must be appreciated and promoted if the inner beauty of man's ultimate meaning and destiny is to exist and to be known in depth. On the other hand, the inner beauty of such wholeness makes possible all the outer beauty since the loss of ultimate meaning and destiny in human activities renders technology, science and culture vacuous: if not vicious. Nor is the withdrawal of the mohastic contemplative to be considered unique to this type of contemplation. The apostolic contemplative must prac-tice a somewhat similar asceticism if he or she is to be a first-rank artist, lawyer, neurosurgeon, teacher, sports star, philosopher, business person, or parent. In order to focus intensely upon the contemplated object, such contemplators must withdraw steadily from distractions, occasionally from family life, often from comforts, not rarely from the spotlight of flattering attention. Though the person dedicated to apostolic religious contemplation-in-action may be immersed in the concerns of the world, still he or she must learn to live hidden within the teamwork of the institution and to withdraw from disruptive self-seeking of fame, fortune, and fun. Such withdrawal is essential if the contemplator is to discover better the wholeness of object, self, world, and God. For the aim of every contemplative is to become more whole in order better to see, in all their wholesomeness, other people, the tasks at hand, professional teamwork, family health, national purpose, ecclesial community and God himself. For this reason, the withdrawal should make one more attentive and appreciative of other people, of one's business, of art and music, of wholesome sanctity (a redundant phrase), of professional skill, of science and technology, and of oneself. Such wholesomeness, when appreciated, gives deep intellectual joy and is the fullest reward for disciplined suffering. Consequently, the various types of contemplation-in-action must be carefully distinguished so that each can be pursued with finesse. But since contemplation-in-action has so many ways of expressing itself according to each one's peculiar gifts, situations, aims, and tradition, it is no easy task to discover one's own way of contemplating-in-action. Since each type of con-templation aims at wholeness of object contemplated and of person con-templating, a major error here could fragment the contemplator's personality and induce shoddy activity within his or her specialized secular contemplation-in-action. With this caution in mind, one delves hesitantly within his experience for the feel of apostolic contemplation-in-action, especially since this experience runs so deeply and so uniquely. Towards the Feel of Apostolic Contemplation-in-Action Because apostolic contemplation-in-action is present deep within many actions of the secular contemplative, it can be approached only gradually 328 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 through four steps. The first step consists in answering a series of questions constructed to bring into better focus the secret unity of one's everyday ex-perience. Later, in a second step, reflection on the various levels of this every-day experience helps us to recognize at what level apostolic contemplation-in-action originates. The third step is to work out an explicit definition of such contemplation according to these levels. Here, in a fourth step, one can finally note the feel of contemplation-in-action as it happens within various levels and modes of experience. But let us now take the first of these four steps by leisurely answering for ourselves the following questions: I. Why do I usually get up on time in the morning and not let people wait? 2. Why do I bother to cook breakfast for others and not just for myself? 3. Why do I share my car with others and, on occasional rainy mornings, leave early to get them to work on time? 4. Why, at the job, do I help out on someone else's project when mine is not finished yet? 5. Why should I avoid the second beer at lunch because it makes me loggy at work? Who really cares about my efficiency? 6. Why scrimp and save for others--esp~ecially if they are likely to squander the savings? 7. Why take work and worries home from the~ job? Why bother studying at night to complete degree work or to be more competent in my next day's work? 8. Why keep up correspondence with friends or answer the third telephone call when I'm so tired at night? 9. Why be the one who usually corrects the children and who gets their resentment? 10. Why sometimes spend money meant for entertainment on the needs of others? 11. Why squeeze into the already packed day the Eucharist and another fifteen or more minutes of prayer? In other words, all these why's add up to a single last question: Why do we stretch ourselves out for others hour after hour, day after day, month after month, year after year? Could the answer be that, amid all our sneaky ways, our clever vanities, our downright sins, and our cute manipulation of others to our own desires, we nevertheless do have a strong practical concern for peo-ple, for their welfare and happiness? Could it even be that, deep within, we each feel God quietly encouraging us to stretch our lives out to others? Could it be that, deep within, we want to delight the heart of God? If so, then this is what is called "the stretch," the almost constant doing.of the more difficult out of respect for others and for God. It is, in other words, the willingness to bleed slowly for loved ones and even, at times, for mere acquaintances. This "stretch," then, turns out to be a dynamic unity running through all the day's events to give them meaning and direction. Could it be that this is our seeking Contemplation-in-Action / 329 for God, our God-hunger? Is this our restlessness with anything less than God--a restlessness which renders us mystified at the self-serving actions of the trifler, the super-ambitious, and the bun vivant? Indeed, is this "stretch" or God-hunger the apostolic contemplation-in-action for which we are searching? It would seem not. For such contemplation lies underneath "the stretch" to make it happen. We must yet distinguish various levels of experience and then move underneath each to find the deepest level from where apostolic contemplation-in-action originates. And we find that there are four levels of experience to distinguish. The first or sur-face level is where minor irritations, like the sound of loud rock-and-roll music or the itch of eczema or the sudden hiccup occurs and where minor joys like a satisfying meal or a long sleep or a relaxed laugh, happen. Underneath this surface level, lies the second or physical level where the pains of ulcers or neuralgia lurk and the joys of exuberant good health or of strong sexual pleasure energize one. Underneath these two levels is the third or psychological level where one trembles with fear of failure in one's work or shrinks at seeing the beloved suffer, and where one also is Warmed with the security of being .loved deeply and faithfully by an admired person, or experiences the deep satisfaction of witnessing one's children growing up well. Underneath these three explicitly conscious levels which we all can recognize lies a more hidden fourth level known only implicitly, i.e., by con-trast with the top three levels. Thus a person can feel great joy and serenity at this fourth level, while at the upper three levels he feels terrible suffering and apparent fragmentation. Or the reverse may be the case. "Everything is going my way in health, job-~atisfaction, family life; I've got everything--except that I feel uneasy and deeply restless underneath all of this." In both in-stances, the person feels almost schizophrenic--so clear is the distinction be-tween the top three levels and the deepest fourth level of experience, so direct-ly reverse is the flow of events between the top-three and the fourth levels. Puzzling as this experience is, it is also a revelation of the fourth level where the root of contemplation-in-action lies and it will eventually lead us to the "feel" of apostolic contemplation-in action.6 Apostolic Contemplation-in-Action Is a Heart-Awareness of God and His People To state matters bluntly, apostolic contemplation-in-action is not "the stretch," the disciplined reaching out to others and to God from the third level of experience. It is not the constant calling to mind of God's presence, nor 61 have given a fuller description of these four levels of experience in "The Fourth Level of Prayer: Mystery," (REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, VOI. 39, 1980/6. pp. 808-810, 817-819). Confer also "Phenomenology, Psychiatry, and Ignatian Discernment" (The Way, Supplement #6, May, 1968, pp. 27-34) by Felix Letemendia and George Croft for a similar description of four levels of experience. 330 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 constant explicit aspirations, not the "Jesus prayer," nor one's favorite scrip-tural mantra on the second level of experience. It is not constant conversation with God on the second and first levels.7 Apostolic contemplation-in-action may cause these behaviors, but it is not any one or all of them. Rather, it is more like a heart-awareness of God, an affectionate and deep alertness to God in all events, a strong and warm conviction of God's loving presence at the fourth level underlying and yet permeating all life's experiences and hap-penings. 8 This heart-awareness seems to be always operative, like the buoyancy of a cork under water, always unobtrusive, like quiet background music in office or dining room, always implicit, like a mother's awareness of noisy children in the backyard while she is concentrating on a new cake recipe; always pulsing, like the tennis player's awareness of the beloved watching his match from the grandstands; always underlying, like the companionship between two friends whose attention is riveted on an engrossing motion picture; always growing osmotically, like the friendship between two people sitting in the front seat of a car and silently viewing the. countryside during a long trip. This heart-awareness appears not in the least to interfere with conversation or with algebra-solving or with. business-planning or with party-laughing or with landscape-painting or with surgical operating. Indeed, it can be said that this heart-awareness is actually a person's awareness of God's awareness of him while he works through the events of the day--much as when the lover tennis-star is implicitly aware of his beloved's awareness of him as she sits in the grandstand watching his play.9 This heart-awareness is like the alertness of the saints to God's providence in small happenings. God, like the air, is embracing the saints, enabling them to breathe, acting as the medium for all the surrounding events. In such an at-mosphere, nothing is insignificant. There is a second way in which this heart-awareness of God, called apostolic contemplation-in-action, can be described. It seems to be also a per- 'In reading Henri J. M. Nouwen's books and articles on spirituality, I have rarely felt anything but strong agreement--except for one article: "Unceasing Prayer" (America, Vol. 139/3, July 29--August 5, 1978, pp. 46-51), where Nouwen declares: "We convert our unceasing thinking in-to unceasing prayer when we move from a self-centered monologue to a God-centered di;~logue (p. 48)." Though he characterizes this prayer as contemplation, as attentive looking at God, and as presence to God, still the heavy emphasis on thinking and imagining in the article could lead the reader to a false mentalistic perception of praying always. 8In Love Alone (Herder and Herder, New York, 1969, p. 89), Hans Urs Von Balthasar compares the unceasing prayer of heart-awareness to the "the way a man is always and everywhere influenc-ed by the image of the woman he loves." 9 John S. Dunne (The Reasons of the Heart, Macmillan, New York, 1978, pp. 46-54) gives an acute description of this heart-awareness of God wherein one feels known and loved deeply by God. He puts it in Meister Eckhart's terms: this is a laughing between God and man which images the Trinitarian life of mutual joy between and in the three persons. Contemplation-in-Action / 331 son's awareness of God present within him and working out through him into the lives of others. It would explain somewhat Paul the Apostle's remark: "I live now, not I, but Christ lives in me." In this implicit heart-awareness there is even a sense of acting beyond one's capacities, or of being borne along to meet events for which one feels strangely prepared beforehand. This does not imply that such experience is without suffering. On the contrary, the heart-awareness has the tendency to make one more sensitive to the suffering of others and of one's self and even more ready to assume sorrow. For, remarkably, this heart-awareness opens one up not only to God but also simultaneously to God's people and his world. It would seem to contain a readiness for friendship, and for the obligations consequent upon friendship. It is not a state achieved by spiritual gymnastics, by much reading on the meaning of life, by the use of diaries, by experimental prayer-sessions, by con-stant aspirations, and God-conversation, or by psychological dynamics. Rather, it seems to arise within the disciplined service of others out of love. In other words, "the stretch" seems to set up the conditions in which this heart-awareness, this apostolic contemplation-in-action, occurs. The latter would seem, then, to he a natural development in a healthy life of service to God and his people. It appears to be an availability to others which is adaptive~to their needs, hopes, joys and sorrows and which consequently takes on emotional coloring and religious content by way of this adaptation. For this reason, it would seem that apostolic contemplation-in-action is not an esoteric gift but one which is given to many good people by a God eager to promote such heart-awareness of himself and of his people. After all, such awareness would seem to include a penchant for fulfilling the two Great Com-mandments under a vast array of different circumstances and, therefore, under many diverse modes of action. It is time, then, that we considered some of these modes. In this way we can experientially both test the understanding and get the feel of apostolic contemplation-in-action. Various Modes in Which Apostolic Contemplation-in-Action Is Felt Apostolic religious contemplation-in-action as heart-awareness of God is, then, a deep good will towards God, a warm desire for God, a loving remembering of him in his people and his universe. This single basic convic-tion naturally expresses itself in a thousand different ways according to the thousand diverse activities of the apostolic contemplative. Among these thou-sand ways are the following eleven (if you can recognize them in your ex-perience, then you have, I would ~hink, the "feel" of apostolic contempla-tion- in-action): 1. Hope: a pervading sense of the worthwhileness of one's present life and work for the future; a certain fearlessness in facing radical changes within one's community amid the sudden turnings of history. "Why is everyone so depressed?" 2. Patience: St. Paul's hypornone, the strength to stand underneath and to 339 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 hold everything together when all seems to be coming apart and others are deserting the supposedly sinking enterprise; a kind of dilapidated, yet dedicated, serenity amid much suffering and uncertainty. An ~'old-shoe" type says: "What's the big ~panic about?" 3. Need to be Hidden in teamwork: a wanting to contribute one's best quiet-ly; and yet, in times of stress, a boldness to take on the tough job of leadership. "Tell me what you want done--and if you can't tell me, I'll tell you." 4. Passive Alertness to Others: a willingness to wait, to listen, to hear out a person or a situation; a deep respect for the individuality of others; a refusal to domineer in conversation-work-dispute; no demand for a return on love given--because of trust in the other and in God. "I've got time to listen. Relax." 5. A Senseof Being Companioned through the day (at the fourth level): never being alone because at the centei" of one's heart and of the whole world'is the beloved: a turning to God, and frequently finding him there waiting. "Why worry about anything so long as the Lord is with me?" 6. Sense of an Intimate Providence in one's life, of being cared for with remarkable delicacy: events that at first put everything in jeopardy and turmoil eventually turn out to be fortunate; chancehappenings are later seen to fit together with precision; surprises'are taken as God's special attention to a person rather than as senseless interruptions to his or her life. "Someone loves me and is guiding me to himself over this rough road and dangerous terrain." 7. Sense of Belonging to God, to the Church (his people), to the mother of God, to one's community (parish, family, neighborhood, religious order, charismatic prayer-group): a sense of finally being at home--no matter where I travel; a deep content with God, world, oneself in the midst of contradiction. "Yes, my God owns the world--now what's the problem?" (". the world, life and death, the present and the future, are all your ser-vants; but you belong to Christ and Christ belongs to God" I Co 3:22-23.) 8. Firm Conviction of Doing Exactly What God Wants at the Moment and of not wanting to do anything else or to be anywhere else: a sense of rightness (without righteousness) about one's present action; a determined sense of vocation which is nevertheless ready for change; riding hard, yet sitting easy, in the saddle. "For the moment this is where it all is." 9. Constant Hunger to Serve Others: to give them joy, to help them expand their personalities in happiness-knowledge-commitment--even though the servant (e.g., teacher, counselor) will be soon forgotten and very likely will have little'to show for his or her services. "How can I be of help without getting in your way?" 10. A Steady Sense of Gratefulness to God: for the fullness of one's life--for each person, event, knock-at-the-door; a wonder at how much God has entrusted to oneself; gratitude, the mark of maturity and full humaneness. Contemplation-in-Action "How could you be so good to me, Lord?" 11. Finding God in Others: seeing by faith that this person is beloved by God; not projecting some Christ-image on the person so that the latter is not seen for himself and is therefore depreciated, but rather discovering this new value in the person, and therefore serving him more carefully, listening to him more attentively, finding his core-goodness. "He is my brother and Christ's brother.'" 0 These eleven modes (they could be a thousand) have an inner unity amid their diversity." First of all, each is concerned with the wholeness of both the contemplative and the object contemplated. For example, hope sums up the whole past and present to send the totality into the future without a constrict-ing fear; patience serenely holds the present fragmenting situation together; hidden teamwork binds the group together and offers leadership when fragmentation or misdirection threatens; passive alertness to others offers time and support for the healing process; the sense of being companioned at the center of one's being leads into a sense of providence intimately and delicately converging all events towards a full future goodness; the sense of belonging to God-community-worm produces a wholesome contentedness which paradox-ically can issue into fierce efforts to build a better community and world with the firm conviction of doing exactly What God wants at the moment; the con-stant selfless hunger to serve others naturally builds wholesome community; and the steady sence of gratefulness to God means gratefulness to other which, in turn, produces the close unity of friendship.'2 Clearly, then, this heart awareness of God, this apostolic religious contemplation-in-action, fulfills well the definition of contemplation as the perceiving and the building of wholesomeness in the comtemplative and in the object contemplated. There is a second inner unity among these eleven modes of contemplation-in- action. Evidently, each mode is itself an attitude (an habitually lived value) which inspires and molds the.activity flowing out of it. In other words, the mode of contemplation controls the actibn of apostolic religious contemplation-in-action. But each of the eleven attitudes embodies, in its own way, a single attitude common to them all: a total accepting of all reality (God, t°Yves Raguin, S.J. (Paths to Contemplation, translated by Paul Barrett, O.F.M. Cap., Abbey Press, St. Meinrad, Ind., 1974, p. 82), stresses that "the love of God teaches us to love others for themselves., just as they are, with all their defects and with all their hopes." Here he finds common ground between Eastern and Western schools of contemplation, but also great differences (pp. 4-11). "In How to Pray Always without Always Praying (Fides/Claretian, Notre Dame, Ind., 1978) Silvio Fittipaldi, O.S;A., speaks of prayerfulness as a basic life-orientation under!ying all one's activities (p. vii). He then deftly shows how deep questioning of everyday events (pp. 11-27) and a constant wondering-longing about life (pp. 29-40) can be a praying always. These are two more modes to add to the eleven already noted. '21n his Letter to the Colossians, St. Paul, when listing the signs of Christian growth (1:9-12), ap-pears to mention five or six of these modes of contemplation in action. 334 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 world, self, people) and a sense of being, in turn, accepted by all reality.' ~ This attitude is a deep welcoming of all the people and events of life--an attitude symbolized when one's arms are extended wide in service and one's face bears a confident smile of trust." Now among the eleven modes, one may rise in prominence to succeed a second which then recedes to be called upon at a later time for a different situation. Though a person~may temporarily feel, for example, less hope or less sense of intimate providence, nevertheless these attitudes remain even though submerged under the new succeeding mode of, e.g., passive alertness to others. Meanwhile, the single deepest attitude of simple acceptance or welcome is being expressed in one of the eleven (or one thousand) modes. The modes, of course, vary according to the needs of the situation, the type of work being done, or the growth-phase of the contemplative-in-action. But always the single basic attitude of welcoming acceptance knits them together with expectant trust in God and his world. Could it be that this unify-ing attitude is what enables the apostolic contemplative "to pray always"? Could it be, then, that this basic acceptance of God and of his world is the ac-tive embodiment of a man's fundamental option?" The negative side of this acceptance is dramatized in the death-bed rejection of family, God, and world, when the dying person implies: "God, you'v.e cheated me consistently with this harassing world of yours and with this demanding family of mine. Now stay out of my life forever." Such basic cynicism, bubbling corrosively in each of us, can eat away the roots of apostolic religious contemplation-in-action. To face our cynicism may be to see more clearly the radical source of such ~c.ontemplation. Human Cynicism Versus the Divine Indwelling Over our contemporary culture a vast cloud of cynicism rolls, paralyzing the self-sacrificing attitude which empowers apostolic religious contempla- "Hans Urs Von Balthasar, in his article "On Unceasing Prayer" (Theology Digest Vol. 25/1, pp. 35-37), takes this basic attitude to be a readiness to hear God's word at all times in all things, events and persons. "To pray always, therefore, means to make real what is--in turning to God and to the world." For Von Balthasar, such constant prayer is kept alive by articulated or formal prayer in which it is remembered. "The books of George Maloney, S.J., sketch this weldoming attitude in various ways. Inward Stillness (Dimension Books, Denville, N.J., 1976), sees it as a loving surrender in all things to God's loving guidance (pp. 91-92) and as a heart-prayer of constant thankfulness (p. 99). Nesting in the Rock (Dimension Books, 1978, pp. 86 ff.), develops this theme. The Breath of the Mystic (Dimension Books, 1974, pp. 181-183), speaks of contemplation-in-action as a "contuition," a simultaneous awareness of the creature and of the dynamic presence of God within the creature as its ground of being; it is, then, a lov, ing affinity for all with all b~ings. ~qn his How to Pray Today (Abbey Press, St. Meinrad, Ind., 1975, translated by John Beevers, pp. 40-41), Yves Raguin, S.J., finds that the basic disposition for prayer is acceptance of the human condition. Such acceptance first acknowledges that every good act is under the influence of the Holy Spirit and then enjoys this fact amid all the ups and downs of secular activity. Contemplation-in-Action / 335 tion-in-action. In the face of mammoth social problems, contemporary man is oftencounseled: "Always watch out first for Number One, otherwise you'll be suffocated by other people's needs." The human mind and heart then con-cludes: "Apostolic contemplation-in-action is impossible." And the Lord replies within the heart of each person precisely as he responded to Peter's similar complaint in the episode involving the rich young man: "Yes; it is im-possible- without God." This complaint often takes the form of an objection: "How can I who am so aware of my own fragmentation and partialness be expected to help others to wholesomeness? Who am I to attempt apostolic contemplation-in-action?" The very formulation of this objection is a humiliating experience, yet the humiliation happens to be the first step in doing such contemplation-in- action. Tho married couple raising three young children has known from the days of the first birth that the one spouse's partiainess will, paradoxically and often humiliatingly, be the source of the other's wholesomeness. Hus-band and wife need each other's partialness to become whole, just as they need their own growing wholesomeness to lure their children to wholesome living and just as they need their children's needs tO call them to greater wholesomeness of action. Christ, knowing thoroughly the agony of bringing fragmentation to wholeness, is there to help with Cana's sacrament of matrimony. Thus, apostolic contemplation-in-action, through this sacra-ment, can be intimate to the daily routines of married life; while at the same time the seeming impossibility of marital contemplation-in-action reveals to the cynical that the heart-awareness of God and his people is pure gift. Not rarely the most cyn. ical person of all concerning apostolic contemplation-in-action is the priest ministering the sacrament of reconcilia-tion, that efficacious sign of ultimate wholeness. In the confessional, his fragmented, partial self laments: "I should be confessing to this good pe{son, not he to me. His wholesomeness comes through the more deeply he sorrows over his failures to be of help to his wife and children, his friends and co-workers." Yet as the Lord permeates the priest's absolution to heal the peni-tent, he simultaneously heals the priest precisely through the iatter's humilia-tion at his own fragmentation. The gift of reconciliation for the penitent can often contain the gift of apostolic contemplation-in-action for the priest. Somehow, in allowing God to work through him, the priest has acted beyond his own capacities as a human being and has simultaneously increased the wholeness of the penitent and of himself. But this example is not meant to imply that apostolic religious contemplation-in-action is easily acquired and done. For this basic attitude of welcoming acceptance of God and world, this heart-awareness of God and his people, animates and directs "the stretch," that continuous, disciplined action of serving, healing and challenging others beyond one's own capacities. For the gift of heart-awareness of God and his people demands that the apostolic contemplative constantly and painfully grow in generous action for 336 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 others. To operate beyond one's capacities in this way means to take risks con-tinually and to undergo humiliations inevitably. There must, then, be some unique source of illumination and strength within the being of the apostolic contemplative-in-action. Otherwise, he or she would fragment under the pressures and demands of such a life. It would appear that the divine indwelling of the Trinity is this ultimate source for apostolic religious contemplation-in-action. In Christ's prayer for his disciples (Jn 17:18-23), a prayer of "wholing" action, he speaks of "send-ing" the disciples, and all his believers, just as the Father had sent him so that "All may be one as you, Father, are in me and I in you; I pray that they may be [one] in us, that the world ma.), believe that you sent me." Apostolic contem-plation- in-action becomes, then, the manifesting of the Son, Jesus Christ, to the world in the apostolic actions of the contemplative. But the very action promoted by Jesus within the contemplative has also contained Jesus' mani-festation of the Father to this contemplative. As a result the contemplative's action in the world reveals both the Father and the Son. In this way, the apostolic contemplative becomes Their living glory expressed for all to see in the contemplative's maturing manhood or womanhood. Such action enables Father and Son to be present incarnately to the world. At the same time, the Spirit, indwelling in the people of God and in the contemplative, inflames the contemplative's actions so that they become more truly and fully acts of love (caritas) which simultaneously cause wholeness in others and in the con-templative. Here apostolic religious contemplation-in-action is seen to go far beyond the human capacities of the contemplative as it heals the world into wholesomeness through "the stretch." At this point, the problem of apostolic contemplation-in-action becomes more evident. Misunderstanding of it makes one feel falsely guilty for not hav-ing mystical graces of extraordinary mental vision and will-strength, for not being able physically to see Christ in the other, for not keeping the morning's solitary prayer in unbroken continuity through the day, for not enjoying fre-quent upsurges of strong consolation during work. But rather, it would seem that apostolic contemplation-in-action is the gradual and painful explicita- ~tion of the divine indwelling operative in all the contemplative's actions. It is the slow bringing-to-consciousness of the Trinity's workings within the con-templative's actions, within "the stretch." Now this gradual awareness is, concretely and basically, the apostolic con-templative's developing attitude of welcoming acceptance towards God, his people, and his world. By operating unobtrusively behind and within all the contemplative's actions in the world, this attitude leaves the contemplative's senses, mind, emotions, decision-power, and imagination free to concentrate on the particular work and the persons at hand. As a result, the contemplative is not less, but more, present to the work and the people; not less, but more, alert to their needs; not less, but more, hopeful of their expanding wholesomeness. Such total dedication, made possible by apostolic religious Contemplation-in-Action / 337 contemplation-in-action, becomes that magnificent self-forgetfulness which Karl Rahner sees as "praying always" and as beautiful surrender to God." Consequently, this deep heart-awareness of God and his people which constitutes apostolic contemplation-in-action can be a gradual expansion of the indwelling Trinity's effective presence within the contemplative's "stretch." This presence rises slowlythrough the contemplatives's whole be-ing so that his arms can go out in self-forgetting welcome to God and his world. Thus, the contemplative's subsequent actions carry ever more passion, strength, intelligence, compassion and wholesome beauty. Such con-templative action can then manifest strong love without crushing the beloved and competent service without condescension to the beneficiary. For it will in-clude the fuller action of the indwelling Trinity seeking to make all humans one as the Father, Son and Spirit are one in their own eternal wholeness of the divine family. ~6Karl Rahner, The Religious Life Today (Seabury, New York, 1976), p. 49. The" Active-Contemplative" Problem in Religious Life by David M. Knight Price: $.75 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 The White Robed Citadins of Paris M. Grace Swift, O.S.U. Sister Grace teaches at Loyola University of the South. Her mailing address is: Box 192; Loyola University; New Orleans, LA 70118. Ancient bells begin their clamorous count-down of eleven hours. A hooded nun, enshrouded in yards of creamy white wool, rises from her place on the matted rug-covered nave floor of St. Gervais et Protais Church, Paris. She mounts the steps, bows deeply before the icon enshrined on the massive altar, and with her Easter taper, lights the seven-branched menorah standing in back of the Eucharistic table. The Sunday liturgy begins as the celebrant and choir proclaim the central theme: "All you who have been baptized in Christ have put on Christ, Alleluia." During the next hour and a half people from all corners of Paris, indeed from all corners of the world, will find themselves involved in a liturgy that is uniquely prayerful, reverent, dramatic, and stunningly beautiful. For this is why this community came to be--to provide for harried urbanites a setting where they could find an oasis of prayer, where a celebration of the sacred mysteries could unfold with the leisurely, spellbinding grandeur of a true monastic milieu. The people of Paris have voted with their feet for the effort. Before the liturgy begins, the monks (roughly about a dozen) enter individually and kneel on the left side of the wide nave, their prayer area en-cased on two sides by choir stalls. An equal number of nuns, wearing the same deep-sleeved white habit enter, with only one apparent difference in their clothing: the nuns wear the capuche on their heads, while the monks allow it to hang down the back. In back of the kneeling monastic communities, the nave is filled with worshippers whokneel, like them (and very close to them), on the reed rug. Others sit on benches or chairs at the sides and in front of the altar area. In France, one may look in vain in many churches for young people at- 338 Citadins of Paris / 339 tending mass, but here, they are conspicuously evident. One willowy lad sits cross legged on the floor, proclaiming by his rigidly straight back and tucked in chin that he has dabbled in Zen. At times, many of the youths uninhihitedly imitate the profound, fetal-positioned bows of the worshipping monks and nuns. Some wear the special metal cross that identifies them as youths who have spent a week at Taiz6. A turbaned black girl peals forth the French lyrics with the sobbing overtones her tribal ancestors once used to summon dark Senegalese spirits. No guitars, no cheap gimmicks draw them there, for this liturgy is designed to meet the tastes of some of the most cultured urbanites of the world. Along with the youths, a solid strata of bourgeois Parisians also compose the congregation. Everywhere one spots nuns of various congrega-tions, as well as many men who by their nondescript blue and gray suits reveal to a trained eye that they are French priests. They, too, need the nourishment of St. Gervais. As mass progresses, a drunk ambles down the side aisle and dazedly turns 360°. With a blank stare at the congregation and a gesture of appeal with his hands he mutters, "Mes fr~res." He provides no lasting distraction, for all attention is riveted on the liturgical drama. Its magnetism lies not only in its splendid integration of prayer and majestic Byzantine-style music, but also in the witness of the monks and nuns themselves. The communities in charge of this liturgy are now called Les Fraternit~s Monastiques de Jerusalem. The monks started life under the leadership of Pierre Marie Delfieux on November 1, 1975, with the invitation and blessing of FranCois Cardinal Marty of Paris. On December 8, 1976 a company of women formed in a neighboring area near the Church of Notre Dame des Blancs Manteaux. The Rule specifically states that there never was or would be any intention of having a mixed community; each group has its own separate establishment and administration, though they do celebrate the liturgy together and share the same spirit and aims--to be monks and nuns in the city, or citadins.~ They have no pastoral, sacramental, teaching, or organized charitable commitment. Signs notify the public that for weddings and sick calls, they can contact the neighboring churches. The members of these groups aim chiefly: 1) to be present in the city and 2) to celebrate the liturgy and divine office in company with the townspeople. The liturgy being a prime concern of their existence, they take time to plan and execute it with all the artistry their con-siderable, combined talents can effect. In choosing a style of.music for their services, the leaders concluded that much of the contemporary church music was shallow, both musically and theologically. Wanting a dominant style that would manifest a global unity, 'Two articles in French give some information al~out these communities: Jean Leclerq, O.S.B., "Tendances Monastiques Actuelles," Nouvelle Revue Theologique, 10e Ann6e, No. i (January- February, 1978), pp. 90-102 and "Naissance d'une Fraternit~ Monastique ~t Paris," Carmel (April, 1976), pp. 56-66. 340 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 they chose Byzantine modes to accompany their Roman liturgy. With lyrics based upon psalmic and patristic sources, translated effectively into French, the simple, strong, rolling harmonies are easily mastered. The result is almost total participation by the congregation. St. Gervais boasts one of the oldest and finest organs in Paris. It is used selectively and effectively at the end of the liturgy and during special times of meditative prayer. The sisters, with beautiful, clear voices, take an active role in leading the singing, in reading, and in gathering together the offertory procession, which always includes lay people and children. An abundant use of incense in the liturgy adds even more of an aura of Byzantine mystery to the ceremony. The Fraternit6 includes several priests. For the Sunday liturgy, the con-celebrants sing, in three harmonic parts, the canon of the mass. Some other parts of the mass, sung alone by the chief celebrant, are accompanied by a background of soft, harmonic melody, hummed by the monks and nuns. At communion time, the frdres and soeurs draw together to form a half-circle about the altar, completed sometimes by lay. members of the congregation. The priests chant in harmony: "Receive the body of Christ," to which the congregation responds in the same harmonic parts: "We receive the body of Christ." A huge host, the size of an American dinner plate, is broken and dist~'ibuted to the encircled brothers and sisters. The same sung ritual accom-panies the chalice. The result is a moving evocation of a truly shared banquet. The total impression given by all the reverent and graceful movements of the mass is that this is the most important event in the lives of the celebrating com-munity- which is just as it should be. The Monastic Fraternit6s The vocation of citadin was revealed to the founder of the F.raternit6s after profound searching in prayer. The rules for community life have been developed in stages, after actual experience in communal living. The guidelines (for communal use only) are now contained in two mimeographed volumes: l) Au Coeur des Villes, au Coeur de Dieu (At the Heart of the Cities, At the Heart of God) and 2) Le Livre de Vie(The Book of Life). Abundant scriptural references in the latter remind the reader that Mary lived, Jesus taught, the apostles evangelized, and prophets and priests of old sacrificed, in the city. Christ fought the devil and conquered him in a city; the fire of the Holy Spirit descended in a city. The beloved of the Canticle sought her Lover while running about the city, and one day He will make the city his beautiful spouse. Indeed, Heaven itself is a City. "It is there that we must remain," the Rule affirms, since God himself dwells there, and thousands of his brothers work, love, weep, sweat, sing, search, struggle and pray there. The Church of St. Gervais is surrounded by all the civic bustle entailed in commerce and governmental administration. It is near the Quais du Seine where lovers stroll l and tourists buy postcards. Its metro stop is H6tel de Ville, the seat of many offices of Parisian city government. Walking in another direction, a visitor Citadins of Paris / 341 soon meets Rue Rivoli, a thriving center of cheap stores and sidewalk vendors selling anything from ice cream to wool stockings. The picturesque Tie Saint Louis, an ancient area called the Marais, and le Forum des Halles are also located in its orbit. The Rule does not lightly gloss over the difficulties of trying to live a monastic life amidst the allurements of one of the world's most beguiling cities. But, the Livre de Vie asks, "Being torn in two directions, is this not the cross?" To be able to live in the city without succumbing to its worldliness, rules of life are spelled out in the Le Livre de Vie which provide for the monks and nuns an armor of fraternal charity, interior and exterior silence, and liberating poverty. Concrete community guidelines focus upon five related points: 1) Fraternal Life 2) Prayer 3) Work 4) Silence and 5) Welcome and Sharing. Fraternal Charity The Rule never ceases to demand love, both of humanity in general and, harder still, of each other. "Only a very great love can offer the world a legitimate and fair defiance," the Livre de Vie explains. "Our vocation is to be a theophany of the love of God, a living icon of the Trinity. There is no more beautiful liturgy, no more eloquent witness, than that of fraternal love. We must live in the heart of the city the mystery of that love." Along with such a sublimely beautiful articulation of theory, the rule gives some concrete sug-gestions for achieving it: "Ask each day that God pour into your heart love for your brothers, and also to place love for you in their hearts. God can refuse nothing to a community who prays this way., ask the trinitarian God to reveal to you the secret of his unity in plurality . In order to succeed in loving, become transparent. Let yourself be known and seek to know. Knowledge opens the way necessarily to love . Do not be content to be a brother of all; be also a friend of each . Pray that the monastic fraternity be entirely translucent to the Presence of the Word, as a foyer of Light . " Prayer Designedly, the community life of prayer has both very public and very private features. Compline is said in their own oratories, but for the monks, the other hours are sung in St. Gervais, with public participation. The p~riod of evening pra~;er begins around 5 p.m. At that time, monks, nuns and townspeople begin to gather for meditative prayer, followed by the evening office. The office flows into the liturgy about 6 p.m., which finally finishes about 7:15. On Thursday night, the monks keep a prayer vigil from 8 p.m. to 7 a.m. "Pray in the night in the center of the miseries and joys of the city, where ~God has placed you, as a watchman awaits the dawn," the Livre de Vie exhorts. The founders realized that the execution of such a horarium and liturgy each day could be draining; for that reason the communities have a poustinia (desert) time during Sunday afternoon and the full day of Monday, 342 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 which is spent in the country outside Paris. They join Parisians in the national custom of taking a grand vacance during the month of August. Work To support themselves, the members of the Fraternit~s must take jobs in the city. Guidelines demand that their work must be truly useful, prayerful, well executed, and bear witness to their professed poverty. In line with their vow of obedience, their job is chosen in consultation with the prior and council of the community. No job may be taken which could alienate or destroy their religious equilibrium. By a deliberate option to work only part time, they hope not only to free themselves for liturgical participation, but also to manifest to an acquisitive society their own disinterest in amassing wealth. Though they take menial jobs, there is no political aim or thrust to this option. "Ni Marx, ni Keynes, ni Mao. mais Jesus," declares the Livre de Vie. They are to have no role whatsoever in political life, since in that arena, divisions, confronta-tions and compromises are the rule of life. Instead, they are to manifest the Gospel of Peace in the polis by their lives of justice and truth. This alone is their "political" role. However, in an elocution to the community, Cardinal Marty urged them to be "revolutionary"-- but revolutionary in fidelity to their monastic commitment only. Silence To combat the noisy assaults of city streets, with their roaring, swirling masses of buses, autos, motorcycles and scurrying citizens, the monks and nuns are urged by rule to drink deeply of the wellsprings of prayerful silence: "At work, in the street, in your comings and goings, in the public transport, in the midst of the brouhaha of the city, carry interior silence with you. Take, each day, large expanses of silence, and when the evening comes, meditate on your couch in peace and silence. God lives in you; listen to him." Welcome and Sharing One purpose of the Fraternit~s is' to provide an enclave of such silence and peace for other Parisians. Guests are welcomed to full participation at the silent dinner served at their flower-bedecked wooden tables. In contrast to ~normal French custom, no wine, and little meat are to appear at the table. Round loaves of thick crusted, substantial bread form an important part of their diet: Though visitors are welcome, there are definite limits placed upon thepenetration of Paris (and the world in general) into the horarium of the monastic community. Afternoons are for lectio divina. The Livre de Vie tells the entering candidate to leave aside his address book, and to give up once and ~f for all shows and cinemas. Television has no part in their life, but a summary of the day's news is read at breakfast from the newspaper. Citadins of Paris / 343 Life-Style Guidelines for the community actually allow for a diversity of life-styles and a diversity of relationships to the community, within limits. However, only those who agree to follow the Livre de Vie may make final profession. Presently (1980) the Fraternit~s have the status of a pious union. After a postulancy of three months and a novitiate of two years, a candidate makes temporary profession "entre les mains" (between the hands) of the prior. After a period suitably long to discern a true vocation to the life, the bishop of the local church receives the perpetual profession of vows of the candidate in the local church, for the universal church. The coule blanche, the liturgical habit, has many sacred significances. It reminds the wearer of his white bap-tismal garment when he dons it. Its radiant whiteness recalls as well the Transfiguration and the angel on Easter morn, who wore a garment white as snow. The Ancient One in Daniel's vision had snow bright clothing, and a man in dazzling robes appeared to Cornelius in Acts. At home, the monks wear a short, blue hooded smock, topped by a wooden cross suspended from the neck. The latter is also worn with their street clothes. The sisters, like many other groups, have types of non-liturgical dress that vary with their jobs and mode of life. Several wear floor-length blue habits, veils and capes in the streets. Others wear the simple clothing of working women. Spiritual Wellsprings The founder acknowledges his debt to many traditions in developing the spirituality of the Fraternit6s: to Benedict, Dominic, Augustine, Theresa of Avila, the Early Eastern Fathers, Charles de Foucauld, and above all, to the first Christian community described in Acts, as well as the fraternity immediately surrounding Jesus Christ himself. The Livre de Vie and Au Coeur des Villes are liberally enriched with quotes from sources as widespread in time as St. John Cassian and Catherine de Hueck. Believing that communal self-sufficiency in spiritual matters is ossifying, members are urged to nourish themselves on outside resources. The candidate is encouraged to spend a week at a school of prayer at Troussures, France, and make a retreat at a monastery such as St. Benoit sur Loire. Finally, a month-long desert experience at a place like Assekrem, Morocco, is encouraged. Future Plans It is quite evident that this group has tried to proceed every step of the way attuned to the promptings of the Spirit. The Fraternit6s have been invited to bring their type of monasticism to various cities. So far, they have accepted one invitation: under the priorship of Bishop Michel Marie Darmencieo, a member of the Fraternit6, they now are situated at St. Victor's Church at Marseilles, the scene of a monastery established by St. John Cassian. By rule, the community is forbidden to own property or t6 build anything. Wherever they go, they must rent their dwelling place. Into whatever city they do go, ~i44 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 ~they will enter with the purpose expressed in the explanatory sheet distributed in St. Gervais; to "experien.ce the difficulties, alienations, struggles, work, constraints, fatigue, noise, pollution, pains and joys, the sin and the holiness" of the city. Wherever they go, they likewise bear with them the spirit expressed in the Livre de Vie: "Do not forget that the community where you live is the privileged part of the universe where you are to situate yourself. May your monastery be first of all a part of the world where there is life, where love is shared, where joy, work, fervor, praise and peace are to be found. As at home, so also in the world. Reveal and find God in the heart of the world; remember its first beauty and anticipate its happiness to come. In the desert of the urban world may your monastery be an oasis of peace, prayer and joy; an epiphany of Love." On the final page of the Livre de Vie, Psalm 136 is transcribed: . If l forget you Jerusalem, Maymy right hand wither. One does not easily forget a liturgy at St. Gervais in communion with Les Fraternit~s Monastiques de Jerusalem. End of Drought 1 half awoke last night And wondered if I'd heard Soft whisperings outside my window. 1 was about to go back and continue my dream Then 1 stopped--and listened again. Yes, it was true A gentle rain Soft falling on my lawn. The bone cracked earth and croaking grackles Could drink again. It was a stealthy rain Loathe to intrude on the silent sleepers. Then in the morning it blew full blast And blessed the farmers and the flowers. Sr. Mary Margaret O'Grady Holy Ghost Convent 301 Yucca Street San Antonio, Texas 78203 Transfer to a Contemplative Community Marie Beha, O.S.C. Sister Marie's last article in these pages, "The Discernment of the Contemplative Vocation," appeared in the January 1981 issue. Her address remains: 1916 N. Pleasantburg Dr.; Greenville, SC 29609. These very days of your transition are perhaps the time when everything in you is working at him. Rainer Maria Rilke Though the changes in religious life consequent upon Vatican 1I are still too recent for adequate evaluation, they are beginning, at least, to come into the focus of observable patterns. One of these is the phenomenon of transfers from one religious congregation to another. A small but significant number of religious have opted to remain in religious life, but to live out their vowed commitment in another community. Perhaps this .emerging pattern will have something important to say about the future of religious life itself, and about the kinds of communities that have a future. However, any such speculation seems very premature at this point. What is immediate is the process itself, and what it means for individuals and for their communities. A few workshops have been devoted to this process of transferring, and several articles have appeared describing some of its pains and joys. But, for the most part, what has been presented is the movement from one apostolic congregation to another. The present article wishes to focus on transfers from an apostolic community to a contemplative one, a process that relates not only to the transfer phenomenon but also to that growing concern for prayer, and 345 346 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 especially for contemplative prayer, which has been one of the most hearten-ing aspects of the contemporary renewal of religious life. Transferring from one apostolic congregation to another has its own dynamics, quite distinct from what is involved in making the transition into contemplative community life. Failure to appreciate this difference makes it more difficult for communities and for individuals to cooperate with the promise and to evaluate the phenomenon. At the same time there are elements common to any such transferring--questions, for example, of the danger in-herent in the change, the discernment of motivation, as well as the paschal grace of such uprooting and coming into new life. It is the purpose of this paper to present some of these aspects as they are experienced in unique ways by the "contemplative transfer." Dangers and Difficulties To begin with a warning is only appropriate when there is real danger and when the danger may not be immediately evident. Such seems to be the case in regard to transferring. The process of transfer can be dangerous and the danger remain somewhat hidden, since the holiness of the objective may obscure a faulty theology undergirding the process, some confusion about growth in prayer, along with some elements of escapism and/or mixed motivations. The consequences of transfer can be as serious as the loss of religious vocation for the individual and the disruption of peace for both communities involved. Faulty theology may present the contemplative, monastic community as a more "perfect" form of religious life, even downplaying the importance of apostolic involvement as "too worldly." Since any vocational choice can only be evaluated in terms of the person choosing, speaking of an objective "state of perfection" seems to miss the point. Just as religious life itself can be termed a more perfect state (even in the Vatican II terminology ofPerfectae Caritatis) without implying that it would be so for any particular individual, so too, could some such judgment be made about contemplative life. But what is "~ important for the individual to consider is what is better for himself, not what is "more perfect" in the abstract and the general. Moreover, a spiritual theology which rests on the assumption that "one must always do the more perfect" is doomed to run into danger on the rocks of human limitation. Such perfectionism threatens strain and excessive preoccupation with self, neither of which fosters a contemplative spirit. Even for those who are immune from such a false theology, there remains a possible confusion about development in prayer. Sometimes a call to contemplative prayer is translated into a call to monastic life--with conse-quent loss.for the whole Christian community. The transition from a form of prayer that is more active to one that is more passive is a difficult time for anyone. Thomas Dubay has called this the "crack" period in religious development, and it may be compared with the difficulties and crises that are Transfer to a Contemplative Community part of any of the transitions from one life-stage to another. Such critical times do not provide the stability that makes possible good life-choices. Growth into a more contemplative form of prayer is actually part of the development that can be considered "normal" for most persons who are serious about prayer. It says more about the munificence of God's gifts and his desire to be one with us, than about any need to change communities. The latter is a very different kind of call and consequently, one that needs to be discerned separately. Transferring to a contemplative monastery during a crisis time in prayer might mask a reluctance to face the difficulties of persevering in prayer during times of dryness. Individuals may imagine that once they are enclosed, distractions will disappear and consolations will return--in abundance. They will be quickly disabused of such hopes in the everyday of monastic living. Even the prospect of having ample time provided for prayer will prove to hold its own challenge. For "more time" can also mean "more demands": more awareness of distractions, more painful dryness. Add to this all the unsettle-ments that are bound to be part of such a radical adjustment as transferring and prayer may well prove to be even more difficult than before. Similarly, any secret desire to escape the challenges of renewal or to insulate oneself from painful community relationships will be tested in the closeness of contemplative community. Unfortunately, some religious seem to equate monastic religious life with the kind of structured life in community that prevailed before Vatican II. So the desire to transfer can spring from a search for a more compatible expression of apostolic religious life, rather than ~t'~a genuine contemplative vocation. In reality contemplative communities have been just as much affected by Vatican II renewal as have apostolic congrega-tions. Changes, for example, in the living out of enclosure have caused just as many painful tensions as have adaptations in apostolic involvement. Struc-tures have developed in both forms of religious life and will continue to do so. Renewal requires participation, not escape, no matter where one is called to live. Nor does a transfer necessarily ease the tensions of community relation-ships. On the contrary, living in the close, everyday proximity of enclosed community may only heighten such tensions. Spending all one's days with the very same people, in a restricted area and with a limited sphere of activity can never provide escape from the interpersonal. "Contempla(ive community" actually requires a well-developed capacity for sharing life with others, including a delicate balance between intimacy and a respect for solitude which enables one to live with others in a silence that communicates life. In a similar way, an authentic call to transfer is anything but an escape from apostolic involvement. On the contrary, what will be needed is a vibrant desire to be given to and for the sake of others, joined with a faith that is strong enough to translate this call into an everyday service that is not sustained by any immediately tangible results. So if a person is dissatisfied with the :348 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 results of his apostolic work, it would be foolish to try and escape into the even less satisfying life of faith that is the "labor" of the contemplative. And if anyone hopes to find a variety of stimulating options within the everyday tasks of contemplative community, he will be rapidly disillusioned. Even the more plausible motivation of resolving a conflict between prayer and activity can speak more of escapism than of genuine call. Vocation is not discerned negatively, but only through such positive signs as a genuine desire for a life of prayer (not just more time for prayer) and a belief that this self-gift will bear fruit in and for the Church. Such positive criteria for discern-ment will be presented in more detail in the following section of this paper. These, then, are a few of the hidden dangers rising from faulty theology, a confusion about growth in prayer, and tendencies to eseapism, which could prompt an individual to transfer for the wrong reasons. Still to be considered are some of the real dangers involved in the process itself both in terms of the individual and of the communities involved. When a person professes vows, the commitment is made to God, but it is made within the context of a particular community, and this communitarian aspect is not to be changed lightly. Though made by man and so changeable in itself, life in community embodies a call that is divine and eternal. In all its particularity, community gives a specific form to vocation. While not of the essence, still this form may be a very important, even necessary, condition for vocation to grow and flourish. Consequently, changing from one community to another risks undermining the stability of the individual's commitment. If the new community does not provide the hoped-for environment, return to the former one may prove to be impossible and so a vocation may be lost. Other risks inherent in transferring center around the extent of adjustment which will certainly be profound. "Culture shock" is almost inevitable. Even though the "natives" of the adopted community speak "English," still new values, different associations will make it difficult to discover the meaning of words and actions, of response, and of nonverbal communication. The result will be a feeling of lostness and confusion that cannot be met by something as simple as asking questions. For there are no words in which to phrase the ques-tions, no answers that make sense. There may even be an unnerving lack of awareness that something has been "misunderstood" until confusion has deepened into a cloud as indefinite and suffusing as fog: Similarly homesickness for one's community of origin can be even more profound than the feeling that accompanied one's first leaving home for the convent. For the home that is now being left has claimed more of one's adult life and so has called for a freer choice, a more committed response. To leave ~one's family for .the sake of forming new life-bonds is part of the naturalpro-cess of growth and development. But leaving the community of one's first choice for another is not so natural, and the consequences are often profound and disturbing. In the process a certain spirit of criticism can develop. This may even bea necessary part of discernment as one reevaluates call and response, one's own Transfer to a Contemplative Community / ~149 vocation and that of both communities involved. But such critical reflection can become a pattern of thinking that keeps one on the periphery, "watching" and judging way beyond the period when this stance is necessary. This spirit of uninvolved criticism chips away at commitment and makes participation in community impossible. Such are a few of the real dangers involved for individuals who are con-sidering transfer'ring. What are the risks for the communities? Loss of membership in the original community is one obvious area of concern--not just the obvious matter of a person leaving this community to join another. What may be far more painful is the kind of vocational questioning that can arise among other members of the parent community. Such reevaluation may be wholesome, if it leads to renewed discernment of and commitment to one's own vocational choice. But it can also be weakening if it simply adds to diminished morale, feelings of hopelessness and that sense of disillusionment that plagues so many during times of transition. Similarly, the community receiving the transfer can have its peace dis-turbed if the new member, already a formed religious, brings along an incom-patible spirituality together with an undocile mind and heart. Within the closeness of contemplative community, such lack of harmony can be pro-foundly disturbing to all, with consequent loss of service to the whole Church. Such are the dangers in~,olved, both for individuals and for communities. The difficulties are real; the cost is certainly not minimal. The basic question is, then: Is transferring worth theprice? Are the real risks offset by still greater advantages? Are there compensations for the dangers? Yes, if transferring ac-tualizes a more personalized call-response, leading to still deeper commit-ment. When such is the case, not only will the individual find fuller life in the Lord, but both communities involved will also be enriched; such is the unity of all members in the one Body of Christ. The whole question of transferring, then, seems to hinge on the validity of this new call-within-a-call. Theologically such development is possible since the only absolute fidelity in this special covenant relationship is found in a God "whose love is everlasting." The response of any individual can only par-ticipate in this love through an ongoing "creative fidelity" aimed at fashion-ing all life's choices in the light of an original baptismal commitment. The direction for such responsiveness will always be toward greater specificity, a more personal love. Though this ongoing response will be shaped within the context of a particular community, this form, while remaining important, is still only conditional. It may be changed, if this will serve to realize more closely one's first commitment t6 the Lord. Particularly, then, for our present purposes the issue revolves around discernment of an authentic call to transfer from apostolic to contemplative life. Discernment an Authentic Call to Transfer What might be some of the signs that one is being called to deepen one's ~i50 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 baptismal commitment by transferring religious profession from an apostolic congregation to a contemplative community? Here we shall suggest a few of the practical ways in which the traditional vocational criteria of desire, right motivation, and ability to live the life, are evidenced in the case of a proposed ttransfer. \ A long-term desire for contemplative life seems one of the clearest signs that someone should undertake the risks of making a transfer. In many cases, this desire was already present at the time the individual entered religious life but, for a variety of reasons, it was never actualized. Circumstances may simply have made it impossible; ignorance or poor advice may also have con-tributed. So the desire was put aside, perhaps completely forgotten. Profes-sion was made, and that commitment lived out wholeheartedly and with joy. But years later the desire for contemplative life reappears. Sometimes it is recognized as a familiar part of one's past; sometimes it comes as a new and surprising idea with recognition only following later. In either case, such con-tinuity with the past provides a sense of direction in the unfolding of one's per-sonal salvational history. Even when.the desire for contemplative life is not remembered or recogniz-ed as part of one's past, at some point in the present the emergence of this desire becomes so strong that it can no longer be ignored. When first en-countered consciously, the desire is more often a matter of wanting to live out contemplative values rather than a careful comparison/choice of active-i verSus-comtemplative community. A whole life devoted to prayer, supported and challenged by a community of other "pray-ers," by solitude and silence, combined with a very simple, even austere style of life: these are some of the values that become increasingly important. As desire for them grows, so, too, does the longing for a way of living them out more fully and completely. At first this may be met by providing more time for prayer, arranging to live in a prayer-centered local community or one which is experimenting with a simpler way of living. For some, such restructuring of life-style is the answer; for others this is not enough, and the desire continues to grow. A period in a House of Prayer may be another option and, once again, this may provide the right balance of prayer and active apostolate for certain individuals. For others, the quest must continue simply because the desire for a purely con-templative life continues, increases, and must ultimately be met in life. This longing for a way to live out contemplative values may lead one final-ly to a moment of realization and choice. Apostolic religious life can no longer ~provide the support, stimulation, structure for the kind of contemplative life to which the religious feels called. And at this point, transferring becomes a matter of vocational decision. Such recognition is eminently paschal, filled as it is with the painful realization that one must leave behind his "homeland" and "pass over" a desert of unknowns. Yet there is also joy, an anticipation that what lies ahead promises more life, deeper peace. Even the pain of leaving the congregation of one's first profession is somewhat tempered by the realization that unless he Transfer to a Contemplative Community had given of himself there, had truly identified, there would be no loss now. Nor would there be much hope of future success. This experience of having been fully part of one's original congregation, of having found peace and joy in community there, is almost a presupposition of any authentic call to transfer. Someone who has not been happy originally probably will not find any more satisfaction in contemplative life. On the other hand, an individual who has known what it means to give himself to community and in community may come to realize that another successful identification is possible, even though it will be made with some pain. This returns us to the whole complex question of motivation. Why should an individual who has already made profession consider transferring his com-mitment to a contemplative community? In the preceding section we examined a whole series of false motivations, including poorly founded theological prin-ciples, escapism, and an inadequate understanding of contemplative life. These need to be confronted, not in the safety of abstraction, but in the reality of one's own life-experience, and with the realistic help of others who know the individual and both forms of religious life. Of even greater importance is the discerning of positive motivation, since a mere lack of obstacles does not give clear indication that a person ought to go ahead in a certain new life direc-tion. Vocation is positive call, not just an absence of negative criteria. To ask the "why" of one's motivation is important and fruitful but only so long as one keeps in mind that the "answer" cannot be found by adding up worttiy reasons, for, in the last analysis, human motivation remains mystery. It can never be known in its totality, with certainty. The reasons we give are, at best, approximations, and the final answer to the "why" is found only in the living out of the decision. Having recognized that a list of reasons never adds up to certitude, still it can be an indicator that an individual should risk the time and energy of a fur-ther discernment in actual life. Very often the "why" of a transfer can only be phrased in an unsatisfying "because, somehow, I can do nothing else." Such an experience of almost necessity, of inability to do anything else with one's life until this pressing question has been answered, may be an uncomfortable, but true indicator of basic motivation. Such necessity, though, is not a matter of compulsiveness, but rather of a freedom that grows, once the internal logic of choice has been admitted and acted upon. A person may come to discover that his whole movement of life has been in the direction of contemplative vocation, though the surface geography of his activities has been quite different. These very differences may even have been unconscious protest. Such, for example, is the case of an individual who has been a strong advocate of apostolic spirituality, of social involvement, of variety in ministries. All the while, what the person has been seeking on the deepest level, is a way of giving himself completely to the Lord. All the above are real ways; all have been tried. But all still leave something "wanting." "How can I be more giving?" becomes less of a question to be considered. Now it demands an answer that must be made in life. ~52 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 Traditionally, someone entering the monastery is asked, "What do you seek?" If the first answer, not just in liturgy, but in life is "The Lord," then there is good hope that what is being sought will be found. This is not to say that the person considering transfer has not already "found the Lord." But, like the good Christian who considers religious life just because of his previous discovery of the Lord, so too the individual who seriously considers transfer should only be desirous of greater union, a kind of intimacy that, for this par-ticular individual, seems more realizable in contemplative community. Put in still more concrete terms, someone who is already a religious may apply for a transfer because he experiences a desire to give prayer an absolute priority of time, energy, life-focus. In apostolic religious life, consideration of the needs of others, and of one's response to these needs, must always be cen-tral to discernment; this seems to be the meaning of apostolic spirituality. In monastic life, however, the central concern is the totality of life of prayer, and it is this dedication to prayer which becomes one's service to others. Consequently, the desire to give oneself to others through total dedication in prayer is central to any discernment of contemplative vocation, and this becomes even more critical when there is a question of transfer. This is because the person desirous of transfer has already internalized a spirituality of active, direct service, and his transition to a quite different orientation may not come easily or quickly, But unless an individual can come to see silence, solitude, simple manual work, austerity of life-style as contributing to a life of abiding prayer, and further, believe that personal prayer, lectio and liturgy are one's own call to building up the Body of Christ, then contemplative, monastic life will seem empty and fruitless. Moreover, such belief cannot re-main an intellectual assent, nor even an abstract faith-value; it must become personal conviction and motivation for life. Ultimately, then, desire and motivation are just the beginnings of discern-tment for a contemplative vocation. Only by living the life can the presence or absence of God's enabling grace be discovered. So let us conclude by sug-gesting some of the areas which will be particularly relevant in the life-testing of a call to transfer from apostolic to contemplative religious life. Will the potential transfer-person be able to go beyond the initial obstacles of radical adjustment with all its attendant anxiety, of separation from the original community which has provided so much of his identity and emotional support? Put in more positive terms, will the person, first of all, "survive" the transfer? For some, the culture shock, already alluded to, is so severe that there is consequent loss of health or debilitating emotional disturbance. And this, not just in the first crisis of adjustment, where it might well be expected, but increasingly as time goes on. When this happens, life experience leads to a negative discernment. On the contrary, when the Spirit is truly inspiring a person to make the transfer, then, despite the pain, growth will occur. Radical adjustment, separation anxiety, culture shock will all be in the service of conversion. The Transfer to a Contemplative Community / 353 individual will grow and grow in contemplative ways. A new identity will begin to emerge when the more familiar response of teacher, nurse, "member of." are no longer applicable. There will be a new appreciation for one's unique giftedness as person, simply because one is and one exists as a special expression of the Father's creative love. Growth will also occur through positive identification with the new com-munity. Ac.ceptance takes time but gradually new relationships will be formed, an individual will fit in, and his suitability for the life will be confirmed by the response of the community. What begins in strangeness will end in familiarity. For example, enclosure will no longer be a matter of adjustment, perhaps of difficulty, but will evolve into a simple means of ensuring the kind of solitude necessary for prayer. Prayer, in its turn, will grow and deepen. The regular praying of the Liturgy of the Hours in choir will no longer be unfamiliar ritual, nor frequent "interruption," but regular nourishment and opportunity for praise. The simplicity of the life, far from being monotonous, will lead to peace, making possible a "richness" of response that can only be sustained within a somewhat austere life-style. All of this, however, takes time. It requires effort on the part of the one who transfers; it requires also acceptance and assistance on the part of the community. Above all, it requires the empowering grace of God's call. When all of these are present, and when the passing of months and even years has allowed for a new identity to be formed, then the transferred person will final-ly come to recognize himself as a contemplative, a member of his new com-munity. The past will merge into this new present and integration will occur. For example, former skills and talents will find new expressions or will be sacrificed, "counted as nothing," in view of something still more worthwhile. Painful parts of the past will be healed; grateful remembering will allow all that has been to be incorporated into the present and open the way to the future. In short, adjustment will make way for gradual growth, and this growth will be in the direction of incorporation into the new community. When this occurs, the transfer will have been accomplished, and a new identification will have been made. The individual, as well as both communities, will be enriched, because, whenever life is lived more fully, the w.hole Body of Christ is vitalized. Let me conclude with a comparison. Among the old Irish monks, the grace of martyrdom was described in three ways: the "red" martyrdom of shedding one's blood, the "white" martyrdom of desire to give One's life for the sake of the gospel, and finally, the "green" martyrdom of exile, of pilgrimage and ac-cepted separation for the sake of new life in Christ. The transferred person may well find the grace of this unique vocation expressed in the hope-filled "green" of separation from what is familiar, good, loved, for the sake of greater union-- in contemplative community. The Right to Solitude Roman Ginn, O.C.S.O. Father Ginn, a monk of Gethsemani Monastery in Kentucky, has been living as a hermit in Latin America for the past fourteen years. His last article, "The Ladder of Prayer," appeared in the January, 1980 issue. Father Ginn's marling address is: Apartado 44; Huajuapan de Leon; Oaxaca, Mexico. The renewed interest in hermitical life during the last three decades should not be viewed with alarm but as a rediscovery of one of the first and most traditional forms of contemplative life. This rediscovery is taking place at a time when men are becoming more aware of their essential needs and rights. Speaking in the Music Council assembled by UNESCO, the violinist, Yehudi Menuhin, declared some twenty years ago that silence is one of man's princi-pal needs and concluded: "I hope that the right to silence will be recognized as being as important as the right to pure water and air." But the same claim should be extended to solitude. For if man is a social being who cannot develop as a person in perpetual solitude, in a very true sense he is also an un-social being who experiences the impersonality and artificiality unavoidable in relations with others (excepting perhaps with those who form his intimate cir-cle) as a kind of violence. The person's relation with society is problematic and neither his need for communication nor for solitude can be left unsatisfied without damage. But how can solitude be called aoneed and a right? Neither primitive peoples nor children feel any such need. But this is because they do not see it as a positive value but as isolation. Even the ea,rly Hebrews missed its positive side. They regarded solitude as an evil, a co~nsequence of sin, and promised God's special protection to those .moist exposed to it: the poor, widows, strangers and orphans. The Greeks however attained a positNe view of it. The hero of the Greek tragedies lives in a solitude that is both a condemnation and 354 ~ The Right to Solitude / :355 a privilege. Sophocles, for example, presents Oepidus as passing from a period of painful isolation into a new form of solitude that has something divine about it. But even if the Hebrews never escaped from a negative concept of solitude, they discovered the key to its understanding as a positive reality. For they gradually realized that each must 'learn to separate from the collectivity and face God and his will as an individual as well'as a member of society. They also saw that God could call some individuals to positions of confrontation with society which would force them to live in isolation. But they never managed to transform this isolation into a privileged situation and a means of closer union with God. So, without grasping the value of their discovery, they passed on the secret that man's development as a person is somehow connected with his ability to temporally break his ties to society in order to take possession of himself as a unique reality, an individual and responsible I. They present Jeremiah, for example, living through an isolation he deplores without know-ing how it is slowly transforming him from a timid, village youth into God's iron, ~ The oriental religions appreciated solitude as something positive long before the coming of Christ. Early Buddhist texts are full of its praise as a means of spiritual development. Even though Buddha himself later prescribed communal life for his followers, he never lost his esteem for solitude. In a statement preserved by the Itivattka, for example, he says: "O monks, have your dwelling and delights in solitude. Rejoice in solitude, dedicated to mental calmness in the depths of your selves, without forgetting to meditate, penetrated .with intuition; seek your dwelling in desert spots." The Udana records the story of the monk Bhaddiya who lived in a mango forest. Passersby had often heard him repeating over and over: "What happiness!" When they told Buddha about him, he called the monk and asked for an ex-planation. Bhaddiya replied: ¯ Sir, before, when i was a layman and enjoyed royal power as the father of a family, I had guards distributed both inside and outside my palace . And in spite of the fact that I was protected and safeguarded in such a way, I lived tormented by fear, restless, suspicious, frightened. Now, sir, wherever I find myself in the woods, under a tree or in a solitary spot, even though I am alone, I live without fear, tranquil, trustful, without trepidation, unworried, in peace, with whatever others give me, with my mind as free as a forest animal. This is why I repeat: "What happiness, what happiness." The poetic sections of the Buddhist canon love to use images of forest animals to describe the advantages of the solitary life. "Like a lion that over-comes everything, that wanders victorious as king of the forest, visiting its most distant corners and unfrightened by rumors." The solitary individual is likewise compared to the elephant and rhinoceros. The localities chosen by the first followers of Buddha as most apt for the pursuit of their end are another indication of the positive value they saw in solitude: mountains, forests, caves and cemeteries. 356 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 When Christian monasticism appeared in the mid-third century, it manifested a similar love for solitude, inspired of course by Jesus' example (See Mr. 4). Like their Oriental brothers, the Christian monks regarded it as the mother of the spiritual life. Cassian felt that normally the more solitude a monk had, the greater was his perfection.He put his third conference on the lips of Abbot Paphnutius, who lived in such inaccessible places that even other hermits "only with great difficulty caught a glimpse of him every now and then." Such a man was fittingly surnamed the Buffalo. But the fact that most of the praises of solitude in the early Church originated with monks (or ex-monks like St. John Chrysostom) does not mean it was something that concerned them alone. If they exploited it more than others, it was only because in general they took Christian life more seriously, and experienced the positive role of solitude in its development. Their appraisal has been confirmed by modern philosophers. Kierkegaard among Christian, and Nietzsche among non-Christian thinkers strongly stress the importance of solitude for personal development, If they exaggerate, this is only a perhaps necessary reaction to modern society's fear and devaluation of solitude. Nietzsche makes it the supreme value, one indispensable for the growth of all others. For a Christian it can only be a means, even though one - greatly neglected today. As the Greeks saw and the Hebrews sensed without clearly understanding, solitude reveals man's deepest self to him making it possible for him to become aware of his interior resources and discover meaning in his life. Because of its value in helping the individual pass from the suggestion of the collectivity to the liberty of maturity, it is a basic human right that must be carefully p~eserved. For the Christian it is also the entrance into that most sacred and secret .region of the person--his interiority--where union with God takes place. As St. Augustine loves to repeat, God is in the most intimate part of us. He is more truly within us than we are. Even after one has experienced enough solitude to develop into a mature person, periods of it will continue to be necessary, during which one's self-possession may be renewed. Otherwise a gradual self-alienation can set in that will prevent the individual from entering into deep and lasting communion with others and will allow him or her to sink into the negative solitude of isola-tion. Positive and voluntary solitude is a good way to prevent negative solitude. Such periods of solitude should not be used to sleep or simply rest in, but to feel out one's roots actively and become more one's true self before God. Only by doing this will the individual again become fit for fruitful rela-tions with others. There is al~;ays a danger however that we will turn solitude into an ab-solute, and be tempted to stay there. This would not be right, for God calls very few to follow in Abbot Paphnutius' footsteps. Too many buffalos would upset the Church's spiritual ecology. The ideal in most Christian lives will always be a happy balance betw~ei~ solitude and s6ciety, as Jesus himself lived The Right to Solitude / 357' it. To stay longer in solitude than God wills can lead to spiritual sterility. But after all the danger of overstaying one's time in solitude is not great. For, as many who have attempted hermitical life during the last thirty years have discovered, if the solitude is real, it will become unbearable for someone who does not belong there. As one of the Desert Fathers remarked: "The desert vomits out those whom God has not called into it." Covenanl The Father knocks at my door seeking a home for his son: Rent is cheap, 1 say. I don't want to rent. I want to buy, says God. I'm not sure 1 want to sell, but you might come in to look around. 1 think 1 will, says God. I might let you have a room or two. 1 like it, says God. 1'11 take the two. You might decide to give me more some day. 1 can wait, says God. I'd like to give you more, but it's a bit difficult. I need some space for me. I know, says God, but I'll wait. I like what 1 see. Hm, maybe 1 can let you have another room. 1 really don't need that much. Thanks, says God. 1'11 take it. I like what 1 see. I'd like to give you the whole house but I'm not sure-- Think on it~ says' God. 1 wouldn't put you out. Your house would be mine and my son would live in it. You'd have more space than you'd ever had before. 1 don't understand at all. I know, says God, but 1 can't tell you about that. You'll have to discover it for yourself. That can only happen if you let him have the whole house. A bit risky, 1 say. Yes, says God, but try me. I'm not sure-- 1'11 let you know. I can wait, says God. 1 like what I see. Margaret Halaska, osf On Being a Superior Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Father Meenan resides in the Jesuit community of 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Though it may seem strange, .I would like to begin a treatment of the role of the superior by reflecting for a bit on the phrase we so often use, "Thy will be done." When prayed, as in the Our Father, does it make any sense at all, when you think about it? Is there, for instance, some ,super-God" to whom the prayer is addressed, asking that he take care of God so that he makes sure that God's will gets done? Or maybe God doesn't know what his will is, so we pray, "Hope you find out." Perhaps God is in a struggle, so that our prayer is equivalently, "Hope you win!" In other words, this phrase doesn't make much sense--if you just take it at its face value. But I think that the phrase does begin to make sense when ! begin to realize that, in using those words in prayer, I've taken a stand. Whether I join my will to his in prayer or not, his will is simply going to be done. What I am saying when I use those words is, "I want his will to be done. I 'want in' on the whole process. I want to be involved." And so there is a commitment of myself to the project when I say, "Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done." Then the prayer begins to make sense because it takes me from the luxury of being a bystander and puts me right in the middle of things. It begins to make me hungry that his will be done. And then, in truth, it becomes the prayer of my heart. Then it becomes a real prayer--and a fruitful starting point for a reflection on the role of being superior. The problem is that the words come too easily. The problem is that I have grown up with the words, and I lose track of them, of what they say. The problem is that I have said them too often. I fiave gotten used to them. And so they lose the force they should have: that there is a great project afoot, and I want to be involved in it. And this, basically, is what this article on the role of 358 On Being a Superior / 359 / the superior is going to be about: God's will for the person who is superior in t the exercise of the office of being superior. For purposes of this article, I don't care about the sociology of leadership. I don't care about the psychological dimensions of community. And I certainly don't care about the canonical details of implementing the office. What I do care about is the~spiritual a___.__~sp.e__~c_t 9 fob_ei_.o.ng s__~up.e~r_ior, of getting a feel for the role of being a superior. I care about the conviction that one has in exercising the office of superior. Conviction is going to involve feeling, precisely because one's whole person is involved in the truth of what he is saying when he speaks or acts from conviction. What I would hope to evoke in the course of this article is a conviction, a felt truth, that locates the person, invests the person, identifies the person in what he knows. To this end, I would invite the person who is superior to share with me, through these pages, in a meditation. I.f we are going to make a meditation together, we ought to have a "com-position of place." For this, I have chosen Peter at the lakeside, after the Resurrection, when, according to John's gospel, Christ said to Peter, "Feed my sheep'." Just before this, he had asked Peter, "Do you love me more than these?" Isn't it a shame how cheap we have made the word "love" today? What does it mean to say, "I love you more than these"? The question is important because what is at issue is the building of a life on the love of God. But how do we know if we do love God? Is our confidence in our love go-ing to come out of our feelings? Well, for most of us, God isn't "real" enough for us to have very strong feelings about--except rarely. And probably in those moments, often enough, the individual is deluded. In point of fact, most of the days of my life, I don't feel love for God. How do I know, then, if I love him enough to be able to build a life on love? t/~ I f I love, I will do the work of love. I f love is there, the fruit of love will be there. If I am concerned about the things of the Lord, about him and his kingdom and his service and his glory, then I know I love. I don't care what I feel. I know I love, because the fruits of love are there. Even here, though, the issue is not all that clear, simply because I can also fake the fruits of love. I can ape them. I can do great and good things, noble and glorious things--without love. I can do them just because I am ambitious, or because I hate to leave things untidy and have a neurotic concern for neatness, or because I want to be noticed, or because I have career preferences, or because I have a developed sense of responsibility, or because the easiest way to be invisible is to be merely and conventionally competent since, if there are no problems in my sector, nobody is going to stick his nose into it--and that is what I want t'o be, invisible. What is done for any of these reasons does, I suppose, represent the "works of love," but these works stem out of my love for myself in one fashion or another, not out of my love for God. 360 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 In determining the presence or absence of the love of God, then, it is clear that the intention is going to be very important--not the expressed intention, but the real intention. And the real intention is in the heart and soul, lying under the words I use to express it. The grace of our meditation will be the grace not to be deaf to God's call, but prompt and diligent to do his most holy will. If being superior is a chore, a task for an individual, then that individual is going to fail. If it is not a work of love, then at best he will be merely a good administrator. At best, he will make the canonists happy. But if being a superior is a response to God's call, if there is an eagerness to be prompt and diligent to do his will, then the person will not be the performer of mere tasks: he will be a superior. 'From what has just been written, it is clear that I am convinced that being ¯ superior is a very definable, concrete, explicit vocation from Almighty God to a particular individual. In terms of this call, God says to those whom he sum-mons in this fashion, "Feed my sheep," which is the core reality of the voca-tion of being a superior. You see, being a superior is a vocation, a call from God. It is much more concrete than one's'~all to enter a congregation. It is more clearly defined than one's professional competence. In the present circumstance of the Church, superiors have a definite term: a beginning, a measurable beginning, middle, and end to this concrete call that they have. Their call includes definite areas of responsibility, rather more clear than in the usual run of job descriptions. The superior has a definite flock to be fed. Being a superior, then, is easily discernible. Is it really a call? We religious have a way of using all sorts of pious vocabulary with a great deal of conviction--so long as we are talking about somebody else. We have all attended at one time or another the circumstances of somebody else's tragedy, when it's easy for us to see that tragedy so clearly in terms of God's providence for them and for the victim. But when it comes to ourselves, somehow we find that our faith is rather more brittle. Too often for us religious, it is very easy to isolate "God's providence" into some abstract awareness of God as "Lord of History" because, for example, of what .he did to Israel, what he's done to the Church, what he's doing in the history of the world at the present time. Is God, though, Lord of your life? If he is Lord of yliofue,r then how can you explain the meaning of being superior, if not in terms of his Lordship? Is God faithful and loving? Because, if he is, how are you going to explain being superior save in terms of his faithful, loving exercise of Lordship in your regard? We can see how it gets to be a bit more difficult to be quite so confident of the "providence of God" when it begins to reach closer to home. It is much easier to see him as Lord of others than as Lord of myself. Does God care for the congregation? If he doesn't care for the congrega-tion, then he couldn't care less who was superior. If he does care for the con-d gregation, then he must care very much about who is superior--though this On Being a Superior does not mean at all that he has chosen the best possible person. It doesn't mean that he has chosen the most competent person. It doesn't even mean that he has chosen an able person. It just means that he has chosen a person. He has exer-cised a definite, deliberate choice in wanting you to be a superior of his com-munity for which he cares very much, in regard to which he says toyou, "Feed my sheep." It is time now to return to the reflection with which we begari regarding our earnestness for God's will. How earnest are we for God's will? Not out there, ~not in the future, but here and now. The,fact is that either God is not God at all, or he has call~ed you to b____~e a superior. If he has called you, he has expressed his will. You can choose to ignore it if you--want, but you cannot intelligently deny this fact without denying that God is God. b\ Being a superior is a vocation to do what? To feed his sheep in all the ways that make sense. His.sheep are workers in his vineyard, and the superior's feeding of his sheep is going to include nurturing their capacity to work in his vineyard--to be apostles. His sheep are your sisters or brothers in Christ. These are not vague groups of girls or boys that walk in the front door of an institution. These are your sisters or brothers in Christ, persons who have a call to the community that you say you love. These are the sheep that he has entrusted to you to be nourished by you. If all of this is true, then the only adequate approach to exercising the i office of superior is going to be as an act of religion. The alternative is to ex-clude God from your individual salvation history, the salvation history of your congregation, and the salvation history of the Church and world today. Therefore it follows that the key which unlocks the whole mystery of being a ~ superior is going to be found in the area of acts of religion--which is the same area that includes the taking of your vows in the first place. This is the same area, too, that envelops your whole prayer life. This is in the same area as your whole living for God. If this is true, then the individual is going to want to be a superior after the mind and thought and heart of Christ. His mode of being a superior is going to be the expression of his r~ligious involvement in God's will--or it is nothing. In seeking to make this act of religion real, the superior will make use of many aids to help him. But it is the act of religion that is going to give life to the whole process. So the superior will make use of whatever he can learn from management theory, from the psychology of the human person, from the sociology of community. He will make use of all these because they are tools given into his hands, tools that make it possible for him the better to enflesh into reality the act of religion that is his response to God's call. But if this religious response is not effectively there, if the soul of the pro-cess isn'~ present, all that's left is'a corpse. And no psychologist is ever going to make a corpse come alive. If all a superior does is to oversee the production of a corpse, then he would be better off seeking a position on a middle- 369 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 management level of some large corporation and make cars for the rest of his life. At least it would be a safer way of wasting his life; and he would only be touching others merely in their jobs. We religious like to talk a great deal about zeal. If you are serious about zeal, then you have to see in this call from God to be a superior a concrete way of enfleshing your zeal. Otherwise, you are going to be lost in a dreamland, phantasying about future generations of yet unborn souls whom you will "save" some time or other, some place or other. If you were serious about zeal, then you would be very much taken with God's will. If you were serious about his will, and thought that he was calling you, then your zeal would be a hunger to respond to his call, and he has called you to be a superior. In saying to you as superior, "Feed my sheep," he wants you to take unto yourself his sheep, those very special ones whom he has called in a very special way, and who, therefore, need a very special kind of nurtur- ~inagn,d he has sayiodu, You feed themsey sthheeapt, swo hat I have sown in their hearts may come alive." What we commonly see today is a great deal of reluctance on the part of } persons who are unwilling to become superiors for a variety of reasons. ~ From the beglnmng of time, but especially ~n the present age, a man would be out of his mind to want to be a superior. In fact, to want to be a superior is usually a guarantee of failure: not necessarily administrative failure, the failur--"~f-s~perficial effectiveness, but the substantive failure of one who, though called to be of and for Christ's kingdom, may live in exterior darkness, all the while doing great things with brick and mortar--and quite possibly destroying souls for the sake of his mere brick and mortar. So there is fear in the face of taking on such an office, and it is common today. Ther_e ar~t least tw_o~.possible_sources.of_this._~fear. One of them is healthy, eminently healthy, and the other is unhealthy. The healthy fear, I think, comes out of vision. The person who has this healthy fear, for instance, would usually have a fairly clear idea of what the founder wanted in starting the congregation. He has a pretty good idea of the value of a soul, and therefore also has a pretty good idea of the preciousness of each of those special souls called by God to religious life, and whom the superior is supposed to nurture in this vocation. In terms of such a vision, the person would have a very clear and distinct notion of the goal--not of the practicalities, but of priorities and purposes. A person with this kind of vision also recognizes that the vision is of God. And a person with that kind of clarity must see himself as unworthy. So he says, "No, not I. I can't do this." Now there are two t~ings that are healthy about that fear. One is that this sense of unworthiness comes out of self-knowledge of a sort that would arise ~when a person looks at himself against the background of such a vision. With this self-knowledge, in looking at the job, at what the call is, he is aware of his very real impotence; he has a sense of his utter helplessness. The other healthy aspect of such a fear flows precisely from this On Being a Superior / 3{}3 awareness: it is that the individual has a clear and distinct sense of one's need for God in responding to such a vocation. He cannot fulfill such a call, and therefore he would need God. Beingaware of his unworthiness, he has a very healthy desire not to be a superior--until it becomes clear that this call is truly from God. Then, retaining his sense of unworthiness, knowing that God chooses weak things of this world to achieve his purpose, the individual ac-cepts God's call and, in his need, turns to God. Such an individual truly has the spirit_of.a_superior's vocation. . Th~nheal~ the, but more common fear that has become particularly fre-quent" "--~---'---"-'-'during our time in religious life stems, for whatever reason, from a loss of vision, or, alas, from the fact that the individual never had a vision in the first place. When such a person is confronted with the job-requirements, he is often faced with something that is, for him, vague, blurred, unmanageable. He often asks, "What does obedience mean now? What do any of the vows mean now? What does the apostolate mean now? What does the vision of the congregation mean now?" And on, and on, and on. His fear is as blurred as is his sense of vocation itself. Without a vision, such a prospect for the office of superior does not look out to God's vineyard, but into the interior of the community. All he sees when he looks around is conflict, antagonism, varieties of resistance, burdens and crosses--and he wants no part of that kind of crucifixion. So, for his own security and comfort, he is afraid to be a superior. And that kind of fear, if the job is thrust upon him regardless, leads to paralysis, a paralysis that can find a variety of ways of expression. He can be .the do-nothing, the absolutely do-nothing type, who keeps his hands totally off everything except the signing of checks once a month--and this only if the treasurer has succeeded in making an appointment. Or he becomes the type who is only an~administrator. He becomes only the outside contact-person working with benefactors. He becomes only the friend of t

Issue 40.2 of the Review for Religious, March 1981. ; treat Director and the Contemplative. The Problem Member in COmmunity Trends of 1980 Volume 40 Number 2 March 1981 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Departmeqt of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. © 1981 by REVIEW FOa RELIGIOUS. Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, MO. Single copies: $2.50, Subscription U.S.A.: $9.00 a year; $17.00 for two years. Other countries: $10.00 a year; $19.00 for two years. For subscription orders or change of address, write: REVIEW ~'Oa RE'tJ(;tOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55802. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Jeremiah L. Alberg, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Book Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor March, 1981 Volume 40 Number 2 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELtG~OUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; Jesuit Community; St. Joseph's University; City Aven~e at 54th St.; Philadelphia, PA 19131. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from R~:vtE'W roa REtJGIOt~S; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. To Experience God Donald Macdonald, S.M.M. Father Macdonald's last article, "When Did We See You?" appeared in the issue if May, 1980. He is master of novices for his community, residing at Baria Bhavan; D.R. College P.O.; Bangalore 560029; India. T ~ . oday, many people are looking for an experience of G~d. Whether they are young people at charismatic prayer meetings, or their bored brothers and sisters, so many; searching for life, have given up on Christianity asking,. "Where can I find Jesus now?" Many an adult Christian knows what it is to have labored long and have gained nothing: "Why has baptism not taken root in any recognizable way? Why is good will seemingly not enough to experience God? Saint Anselm put this experience of so many in a nutshell: Everywhere You are entirely present, and I cannot see You. In You I have my being and l cannot come to You. You are within me and around me, and I have no experience of You.' How can I experience God? I would not presume to map out anything so particular as the contact between God and the individual. Who can know the mind of God or man? I suggest in these pages just one pattern that may en-courage the reader seeking an experience of God. There are many, many more. A key to the problem of experiencing God is to know something of what happe.ns between God and ourselves. Here, personal experience is essential, along with integrity,~ or we can find ourselves in the bogus world of what is to-day called "Karma Cola." One guide of outstanding integrity and proven record is St. Paul.2 With ' Anselm. Proslogion Chapter 16, in the Prayers and Meditations of St. Anselm (Penguin 1973). 161 162 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/2 deceptively calm matter-of-factness, he suggests a beginning: "The depths of a man can only be known by his own spirit, not by any other man" (l Co 2:1 l). We live in private, self-contained worlds. God, too, is very much apart. "In the same way the depths of God can only be known by the spirit of God" (l Co 2:11). So we have two poles, God and man. How can they meet? What happens if they do? Paul offers to help: "we have received the Spirit that comes from God to teach us to understand the gifts that he has given us" (l Co 2:12). His experience of the Spirit is such that he believes that he is now able to see into the very depths of God, "for the Spirit reaches the depths of everything, even the depths of God" (l Co 2:10). Here, as so often, Paul uses words so simply to contain concepts which almost defeat language. Yet the in-trinsic evidence of his letters, and his part in the history of Christianity, would support that claim: "in Christ, we speak as men of sincerity, as envoys of God and in God's presence" (2 Co 2:17). Experience has further taught Paul that he can only speak of these matters to those who have received the Spirit: "We teach., in the way that the Spirit teaches us . spiritual things spiritually" (l Co 2:13). Someone "who does not accept anything of the spirit of God . sees it all as nonsense . beyond his understanding because it can only be understood by means of the Spirit" (l Co 2:14). Chess and algebra may well fascinate a mathematician. On the other hand, the finest of classical music is lost on a deaf man. Today's pop musicians ~ay that if you think their music is too loud you're too old. Cot ad cor Ioquitur is. as valid there as in any field of human understanding. " ~ In view of this, if we wish to experience God we would do well to reflect on what it means to be baptized, because that was when we received the Spirit. However much. we may envy some of our charismatic friends or wish that we were "twice-born Christians," perhaps the practica'l first step would be to take ourselves as we are. God has-loved us enough to give himself in baptism. This is an objective, ontological fact. Here God has entered our lives. A New Creation What then happenedat baptism? It is hard to say. Paul speaks of the ex-perience of "a man in Christ who fourteen years ago was caught up.into paradise and heard things which must not and cannot"be put into human li~nguage" (2 Co 12:2,4). But in trying to share this experience, Paul's starting point is invariably ~he same: "The love of Christ overwhelm~ us when we reflect." (2 Co 5:14). Love is its essence. Love is itsmeaning. Christ came through a ~rave to be with Paul, so real was Paul to Christ.' Thi~ glimpse.into the depths of God by this "man in Christ" has so transformed his outlook ~ "When we fix our gaze on the life of men who have followed Christ faithfully, we have a new motive., the safest route whereby we may arrive at perfec! union with Christ. which suits each man in his condition and in his own circumstances." Lumen Genlium, 50. To Experience God / 163 that he can only speak of what has happened to him in terms 0f creation, something from nothing. "For anyone who is in Christ there is a new creation; the old creation has gone and now the new is here. It is all God's work" (2 Co 5:18). It is a radical change in life--root and branch. He has now a new center of gravity, so creative is the experience. Anyone aware of what is happening in baptism knows that he can be wholly transformed, like those who now "live no longer for themselves but for him who died and was iaised to life for them" (2 Co 5:15). "What's in it for me" then becomes a "What's in it for Christ?" It is an experience of love received in a faith that is truly creative, as I allow myself to be loved by God, Father, Son ~and Spirit. I now march to a different drum. I am in Christ. My selfish, self-centered world has been opened up to admit God. Ligh! Clearly, the reality or otherwise of this experience will depend, in part, on my understanding of what it means to be loved by God. Paul, baptized as a mature man, attempts to explain what h~ppened to him. This time he writes in terms of the creation of light. The awesome Creator-God of the opening of Genesis who had said "let there be light shining out of darkness. ~ had shone in our minds to radiate the light of the knowledge of God's glory, the glory on the face of Christ" (2 Co 4:6). This mystic, pl.ung.ed into the depths of God through the Spirit received at baptism, believes his mind to be illuminated to an unbelievable degree. The face of Christ coming to him in love holds :him en-thralled. He can now glimpse something of the glory of God. "Glory" generally means what God is like insbfar as we can be aware 6f it. This Paul sees in the face of Christ, and, gazing as he does, he can both receive and reflect the likeness of God: "our. faces reflecting like mirrors the brightness of the Lord, all grow brighter and brighter as we are turned into the image that we reflect. This is the work of the Lord who is Spirit" (2 Co 3:18). Paul, christened, and so a man in Christ, lives in Christ. His personality and world view are illumined as he allows God to love him in Christ. He becomes like what he sees, in love, in joy, in suffering, in experience, in life, realizing this is the work of the Lord who is Spirit. Paul has no need of the Turin Shroud to see the face of Christ. He needs no reproduction. "Even if we'did once know Christ~in the flesh, that is not how we know him now" (2 Co 5:16). The dominant note in his life is the creative, illuminating presence of God in every circumstance, bar none. God is, above all, loving and present to him. And as it is almost impossible not to return the warm smile of a welcoming friend, so to see in faith Christ as present, loving, smiling, courteous, has a similar effect. A sketch of what Paul saw can be found in 1 Co 13:3-7: "Love is patient; love is kind and envies no one. Love is never boastful, conceited nor rude; never selfish nor quick to take offense. Love keeps no score of wrongs; does not. gloat over other men's sins but delights in the truth. There is nothing love cannot face; there is no limit tO its 164 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/2 faith, its. hope and its endurance." Christ sat for that portrait, as has so.often been remarked. Is this the company I keep? A lady who was gradually losing her eyesight once told me that what she missed most was being no longer able to see the smile of a friend or a wave from a neighbor. Small in themselves, but only the loss of ~ight s~hows how much these things mean in fact. Now she is closed in on herself, walks with a l~esitant step. Previously when returning the smile or acknowledgment, she saw ~that she was recognized, loved, "somebody." It was lovely to receive these gestures, and they undoubtedly helped make her lovable. When we realize what happens in baptism, we recognize that the same holds true for the Christian. Temple of God Paul knows that words and concepts cannot adequately express what he has experienced. "Now we are seeing a dim reflection in a mirror." (1 Co 13:12). As the art critic, Bernard Berenson, used to say as he looked at the beauty of the world, "Where were my eyes yesterday?" But Paul never gave up trying to share what he was experiencing. A third helpful analogy of his, following upon creation and light, was the symbol.of the Temple. The God of Israel dwelt with his people. They were who they were precise-ly because God was among them. For a time the heart of the community was the Temple, the symbol of God present among his people. At the heart of the Temple itself was the "holy of holies" (naos). Here God was present as nowhere else on earth. So sacred was his presence there that only the high priest dared enter, and that, only once a year. "Take off your shoes for this is holy ground" was above all true there. "O God we ponder your love within your Temple" (Ps 47:10) is easily understood within that context. The Catholic devotion to God's presence in the tabernacle evokes similar prayers. But how would such a prayer sound on the waterfront at Corinth? Here was a seaport, with half a million in population, in a class of its own for depravity even by contemporary pagan standards. "O Lord I love the house where you dwell, the place where your glory abides" (Ps 2~:8). Within the community bf Israel as reflected in the Temple at Jerusalem, yes, this is real-- but Corinth? Paul, however could see its application. Once baptized into a Christian community, I both enter and become a temple where God is present, just as in the holy of holies of the Jerusalem Temple. The parallel is extraor-dinarily vivid. Pa~l, who could say "Hebrews are they? So am 1. Israelites? So am I. Descendants of Abraham? So am I" (2 Co 6:16), is most emphatic: "We are the temple. And to underline it still further the word "temple" (naos) could be correctly translated by the more reverent terms "holy of holies" or tabernacle. That statement from someone of Paul's background is almost in-credible in its realism. The same immensely powerful image is applied to the individual: "Your body, you know, is the temple of the Holy Spirit, who is in you since, you received him from God" (1 Co 6:19-20). The creative, il- To Experience God / 165 luminating presence of the Trinity at the center of myself offers a dynamic of love, which, glimpsed, can leave me speechless in adoration, wonder and .humility. Such love from the Trinity present to him will bring from Paul reserves and qualities he scarcely knew he had, especially in view of the heartbreak in his life. He will be stretched to the limit and beyond. He is challenged by the creative, loving presence of God, in an ever-deepening personal relationship that death itself will only intensify not break. The prospect of total fulfillment in the continuing gift of himself to God, Absolute Truth, is held out to Paul; "then we shall be seeing face to face . Then I shall know as fully as I am known" (l Co 13:12). All that he has experienced must be in terms of knowledge and love or it would never reach the heart of Paul the man. It is knowledge, and love intensified, given another dimension by God, which makes it possible for the baptized to enjoy this personal relationship with God. God could do this. God has done this. God loves us. It is literally wonderful that reality includes for me such a.perspective. My personality is respected by God. Yet at the same time he invites me to deepen all that is truest in myself to the limit of my being. An enriched personality is given a taste for knowledge and love as seen in Christ, and a lifetime and an eternity to savor and enjoy it. Personal [niegrity Once baptized, therefore, and aware of what is happening, life for me can never be the same. The heart of the mystery, not to be explained, is to wonder how I can be so loved by God and not lose my identity. Perhaps respect and reverence lies at the heart Of love. Certainly Paul is ecstatic at times. Words cannot express what he feels. Yet he is always his very individual s~lf. It is not necessarily the self he would want to be (see 2 Co 12:10), but it is Paul as he is today to whom God is present, not Paul as he might wish to be tomorrow. This is equally true of his Corinthian community. "Do you not know that you are God's temple and that God's Spirit dwells in you?" (1 Co 3:16). This is the magnificent compliment he pays them, yet he writes to people to whom he "was unable to speak., as people of the Spirit. I treated you as. infants in Christ. What I fed you with was milk, not solid food, for you were not ready for it; and indeed you are still not ready for it." (l Co 3:1-2). Paul has no illusions about human nature.But with realism like that, there are many "infants in Christ" who would be grateful for any milk that Paul could offer. For, as must be i'ecognized, there is solid food there. After all, no child ever takes his father's every word literally, especially when he is anxious and upset: "You might have thousands of guardians in Christ, but., one father and it was I who begot you in Christ'Jesus." (1 Co 5:15). Paul therefore tries to show that the baptized Christian can experience the creative, illuminating presence of God: "This is the work of the Lord who is Spirit" (2 Co 3:18). Three reasons suggest that his experience can be mine. 166 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/2 Simple, Practical, Emotional First of all Paul's approach is simple. The new creation, with a new central reference point in Christ not myself, is easy to see as it dawns on me that I am so approached and loved by the Trinity. Reflect, assimilate, adore and wonder is a first step, and in God's own time, the experience may be mine at a level beyond woi'ds and ideas. Repent, and believe the good news. ~ Looking in faith at the face of Christ attending to me in love is bound to il-lumine existence for me as I meet him all the time everywhere, and not by chance. "Indeed as the sufferings of Christ overflow to us, so through Christ, does our,. consolation overflow" (2 Co 1:5). Even suffering, so much a part of life, is seen in Christ: ','That is why I am quite content with my weaknesses and with insults, hardships, persecutions and the agonies I .go through for Christ's sake" (2 Co 12:10). The man who can cope with suffering can cope with life. For Paul it was no magic wand nor temperamental strength, but being with Christ that enabled him to take so much that was so often beyond his control. He becamelike what he saw. I, too, can live in that world. Belief in the Trinity's presence to my inmost self can evoke much in me by way of response, from adoration to sorrow, as I allow ttie nearness of God to possess me. God, dare I say it, focuses on me. 1 can, wherever I am in my or-dinary day-to-day life, develop a cast of mind centering on the Trinity, whenever not immediately held by work demanding concentration. None will know, it will disturb nobody. It provokes no strain at all, simply receiving God's constant presence with open arms. "We are only the earthenware jars that hold this treasure" (2 Co 4:7), but undeniably it is a treasure. Secondly, Paul's approach is practical. In this article I have deliberately limited myself to Paul~s Corinthian corresponde'nce. Every New Testament reference 1 used, e~plicit or implicit, is from there. I did this because if anything is true of Paul and Corinth it is that circumstances were truly lifelike and far from ideal. His association with the Corinthians may have done much for their faith but little for his nervous system. What we call 2 Corinthians was written because he could not go to them personally. They had made it very clear that he was not wanted. He had to write a letter therefore or forget them. Yet Paul never suggests that his understanding of Christ will never work in Corinth. The dockworkers (longshoremen?) of Corinth may be a challenge, but much of the attraction of St. Paul is to watch him use every resource to ap-ply what.he knows of Christ to the here and now. And underlying everything he says is the assumption that what is true of him in his experience of God can be true for them. With Paul it is invariably us, scarcely ever me and you. Paul makes no mention of the need for seminars or retreats or courses. ¯ Nothing will be said of the need to learn how to sit, to breathe, to concentrate. Biofeedback will not be suggested. Houses of prayer, hermitages, or prayer communities have no place in his counsel. This. is important because, in-valuable as all of these are and to be encouraged, they can be overdone. Too many today can be discouraged. We may spend our time reading the critics, To Experience God / 167 never the classics. The marvelously open, welcoming, rough and tumble world of the New Testament may today in the Church be reduced to little more than eclectic, gnostic groups, where the elite may go to their" ashrams to experience God. Groucho Marx once said that he would never join a~ club which would have him as a member. That is almost a prescription for membership of the Corinthian (and traditionally our Catholic) Church. Look at yourselves, says St. Paul, "how many of you were wise in the ordinary sense of the word, how many were influential people, or came from noble families? No. God chose what is foolish.weak., by human reckoning., those whom the world thinks common and contemptible are the ones God has chosen" (1 Co 1:26-28). There is no understatement there, but many of us will recognize our unbelievable luck that Paul is on the side of the majority. Finally, Paul's approach can engage our emotions. This is important because unless our feelings or emotions are committed we are not involved. Far from being the refuge of the intellectually weak, emotions are invariably active in everyone though not always recognized. Reason and logic are sometimes disguised emotion. A gut.reaction may be inarticulate but a real ex-perience. Reason will not often carry the day against feelings. So in baptism we can move out of our possibly subjective, ill-ordered world into the creative enlightening World of God's loving presence. The Gospel offered by the Church:can be an objective reference point and keep us from making religion ¯ in our own image and likeness. So our feelings and.emotions can be purified, educated and deepened as we respond to the demands of the loving presence of God. The actress, it was said, ran through the whole range of emotion from A to B. Paul is not so crippled. No human feeling is excluded as he honestly admits that once "we were so utterly and unbearably crushed that we despaired of life itself . " which is rock bottom in any language, yet "~God who raises the dead., delivered us., and he will deliver us . On him we have set our hope" (2 Co 1:8.10). The Retreat Director and the Contemplative Robert O. Brennan, S.J. Father Brennan resides in the Jesuit formation community at Murray-Weigel Hall; Fordham University; Bronx, NY 10458. Prayer is a very personal thing. General statements about prayer can border on the dangerous. What may be helpful to one person may be counterproduc-tive, or downright dangerous, for another. The great advantage of the directed retreat should be that the dialogue about prayer can be tailored to fit the retreatant's actual situation in prayer. And to make this advantage real, the retreatant must make clear to the director just how he or she prays, at least as well as this can be done. It may be that it is the contemplative who can be most helped or most badly hurt in the course of a directed retreat. And by a contemplative here, I do not mean necessarily a member of a contemplative order. Such a one is likely to be safe, either because of lack of motivation to make a directed retreat or because he is are solidly grounded in the tradition of contemplative prayer. But our area of concern here is any retreatant whose prayer has grown to, or at least grown toward, contemplative prayer. I would .suggest that such retreatants fall into three classes: a) those whose prayer is definitely contemplative, whether they know it or not; b) those on the edge of the transition to con-templative prayer; c) those who have ceased, or nearly ceased, to pray because discursive prayer has failed them and they do not know where to turn. In the following pages, I hope to be able to give some guidelines for a director who meets a retrea(ant in any of these classes. Contemplation First of all, what do we mean by contemplation here? In the history of 168 The Retreat Director and the Contemplative / 169 writing on prayer, there have been a number of definitions, classifications, subdivisions, along with a whole body of speculation as to its precise nature. To keep things under reasonable control, let us attempt some sort ofa descrip-tion rather than a definition. Let us say "Contemplation is prayer that has become exceedingly quiet so that one might call it an intuition--a loving intui-tion- without clarity but with darkness and obscurity." Perhaps .this might be best understood in its genesis in the person who prays. Let us suppose a person who has been praying in the way many have been taught today. It is very likely a case of praying over a passage from Scrip-ture-- a slow reading, reflection on the persons, words, actions, long delay if a word, a phrase, an event appears particularly striking, an attempt to place oneself in the scene, if it is a mystery of the Lord's life, applications to one's own life and circumstances, words of prayer to the Lord or others in the mystery, or to the Father. Prayer in this manner could for some persons con-tinue for a long time--perhaps a lifetime--and be of great profit. But for many persons after some time, the whole process may begin to fail, not because of tepidity or sloth; if it were tepidity, the person would not sense ¯ there was a problem. Rather, as much as one may try to continue, there is no perception that one is praying. God is simply not to be found. Such an ex-perience can be agonizing. Often this indicates a time for a change, and, usually, there is need for a guide. The model of discursive prayer has been so prevalent--in early educa-tion, in so many preached retreats, in the books on prayer that one turns to for help--one could be convinced there is no other. Without special help, grace and graced guidance, prayer could just cease. Part of this syndrome we can understand rather easily: the mind has had its day. Not only has it had all the insights it needs, but it is unable to cope: the God it is beginning to know cannot be comprehended. Part of the story is less clear. It is the work of faith, grace and love. Though the mind is inadequate to encompass God, faith and a loving will can reach out. But here there is mystery and much depends on individual history and cooperation with grace. And, as the mind, so the imagination can no longer be of help, nor the emotions and feelings which find no adequate object to attract them since the mind itself seems empty. There may be times when one has a strong sense of being in God's presence, but the preponderant feeling is that of being empty, unable to do anything. The only positive advice John of the Cross gives is "a loving and peaceful attentiveness to God. without the concern, without the desire to taste or feel him."' In another place he advises: ' St. John of the Cross, Dark Night of the Soul, Bk. 1, ch'. 10, no.4. See The Collected Works of St. John of the Cross, trans, by Kieran Kavanaugh, O.C.D. and Otilio Rodriguez, O.C.D., In-stitute of Carmelite Studies, Washington, 1979. All quotations from John of the Cross will be 170 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/2 When the spiritual person cannot meditate, he should learn to remain in God's presence with a loving attention and a tranquil intellect, even though he seems to himself to be idle . And if, as we have said, scruples about his inactivity arise, he should remember that the pacification of soul (making it calm and peaceful, inactive and desireless) is tip small accomplishment. This, indeed, is what our Lord asks of us through David: Vacate et videte quoniam ego sum Deus. 2 The Director This sketch of contemplative prayer hardly does it justice. The important thing for the director to take from it is the fact that such states of prayer do in fact exist and are good. All prayer is the work of God's grace and love. In our own minds we should not be too ready to set limits on what God may do, or to see contemplation as such a rare and extraordinary thing that it scarcely ever happens, or only to great saints, and certainly not to our retreatants. But when the appetite.has been fed somewhat, and has become in a certain fashion ac-customed to spiritual things. God begins to wean the soul, as they say, and place it in the state of contemplation. This occurs in some persons after a very short time; especially with religious, for in denying the things of the world more quickly, they accommodate their senses and appetites to God and, in their activity, pass on to the the spirit which God works in them. This happens when the soul's discursive acts and meditations cease, as well as its initial sensible satisfaction and fervor, and it is unable to practice discursive meditation as before . ~ Or, to cite a contemporary author: It could be said in a very general way that affective prayer will last as long as such shelter-ing is needed. So too with meditation: how long an individual will go on praying in that way will depend very much on mental ability, and on previous education in Christian doctrine. Someone who has had a long and thorough education in the Faith may find quite soon after taking up systematic meditation that it seems not only unattractive but impossible. A saturation point has been reached: the mind has absorbed as much as need-ed of this nourishment. As much, that is to say, as the person needed, to pray as the Spirit of God wishes.' Of course, it is possible to go overboard and expect to find contemplation everywhere. But this certainly has not been our failing in the recent past. What we need most is to try to be alert, sensitive, and open, to accept that God leads along many different paths. Although the present article is an attempt to give the director some essen-tial helps and caveats, it is fairly clear that some reading of competent authors on contemplation is to be recommended. To assist in this, I will give a short annotated bibliography at the end of the article. taken from this translation. Besides chapter and verse of St. John's particular work, we will give page references to the edition, as, for instance, here: Works, p.317. 2 St. John of the Cross, Ascent of Mt. Carmel, Bk.2, ch. 15, no.5, Works, p. 149. ~ St. John of the Cross, Living Flame of Love, Stanza 3, no. 32, Works, p. 621 f. 4 Leonard Boase, S.J., The Prayer of Faith, Our Sunday Visitor, Huntington, IN, 1975, p. 70. The Retreat Director and the Contemplative / 171 Developed Contemplatives Let us discuss those whose prayer is already contemplative as the first case. Some of these may have made the trafisition from meditation to contempla-tion with the help of a skilled director or by fortunate reading. Some may have--not without much grace--sort of muddled through. They pray but they don't understand what is happening. There are probably doubts and some lack of peace. Broadly speaking, this prayer strikes those who come to it as something rather unim-pressive. A frequent reaction is given in the phrase, "I am doing nothing." There is a general sense of untidiness. Nothing seems to be happening. There are moments of more intense consolation, but they'are few. In good times there is a sense of peace and content-ment, a satisfaction in prayer which appears difficult to explain, since there is seemingly nothing to account for the satisfaction. In the lean years prayer is distressing because it appears such a waste of time--nothing but an unavailing effort to chase a clutter of hens out of the flower-garden, thro~'ing stones with one hand, as it were, at pertinacious distractions, and with the other hand groping in the dark for something or someone.5 Inthe contemporary climate of spirituality, some also may have arrived at contemplative prayer through reading about or participating in workshops in "centering prayer.''~ They may not yet know if this is their way of prayer. Or some may have tried Eastern ways of meditation and be looking for roots in Christ. The director will want some criterion to judge whether those who are using contemplation are doing so authentically or have fallen into some illusion. The test is ancient: What matters is the result. The after effects of good prayer are more definite than the prayer itself." I mean a determination to follow God's will, and to care for nothing else, without any reason to be given for the determination.' The one real proof that you have the right kind of prayer for you, is not that it always goes easily and always succeeds, but that it really does you good and changes your life.8 If the test is passed, and the director is convinced it is a case of genuine contemplation, the whole question of how to direct this one in a retreat arises. But prior to this, I believe it would be good to discuss some norms for direc-tion that apply equally intime of retreat and outside retreat, and leave the par-ticulars of the retreat itself until later. The first duty of the director will be that of affirming the retreatant's (directee's) prayer, and this by way of instruction and encouragement. First, instruction: make sure the retreatant knows that the simplicity of his or her pra~'er is correct; that it is not now a question of using the mind, imo ~ Leonard Boase, S.J., op. cit., p. 92. 6 Centering prayer = prayer of faith = contemplation. See Pennington in the bibliography at the end of the article. 7 Dom John Chhpman, O.S.B., Spiritual Letters, Sheed ahd Ward, London, 1935, p. 62. ~ Ibid., p. 135. 172 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/2 agination, and so forth; to seem to be doing nothing but waiting is not only not bad, but the very best. The following passage from St. John of the Cross has always sounded to me as being very modern, with its reflection about wasted time and bad self-image: The attitude necessary., is to pay no attention to discursive meditation, since this is not the time for it. They should allow the soul to remain in rest and quietude, e.ven though it may seem very obvious to them that they are doing nothing and wasting time, and even though they think this disinclination to think about anything is due to their laxity.9 The director might suggest the possibility of the use of a mantra to fix at-tention: If you want to gather all your desires into one simple word that the mind can easily retain, choose a short word that the mind can easily retain, choose a short word rather that a long one. A one-syllable word such as "God" or "love" is best. But choose one that is meaningful to you. Then fix it in your mind so that it will remain there come what may. This word will be your defense in conflict and in peace. Use it to beat upon the cloud of darkness above you and to subdue all distractions, consigning them to the cloud of forgetting beneath you. Should some thought go on annoying you demanding to know what you are doing, answer with this one word alone. II~ your mind begins to intellec-tualize over the meaning and connotations of this little word, remind yourself that its value lies in its simplicity.'° Play down the role of, and the frequent worry about, distractions: o Distractions are of two kinds: (a) the ordinary distractions, such as one has in medita-tion, which take one right away: and (b) the harmless wanderings of the imagination alone, while the intellect is fixed on God. These are quite harmless.'~ Sometimes we are, so to speak, in touch with God, but are beset with distractions, and every effort to get rid of these distractions only serves to break our contact with God. This is a state, referred to by St. Teresa, in which no attempt should be made to banish distractions. It is somewhat analogous to the case of a hostes~ entertaining a visitor on the ground floor while her children are making noise upstairs. If she goes up to keep them quiet, she has to leave her visitor.'z Above I said the director should affirm the retreatant's prayer by instruc-tion and encouragement. Of course, in this material, instruction can equal en-couragement. But let us turn to matters that are more explicitly encouraging. Dom Chapman's letters are filled with passages where he brings our accep-tance of God's will to the acceptance of the state of prayer we may have: But prayer, in the sense of union with God, is the most crucifying thing there is. One must do it for God's sake; but one will not get any satisfaction out of it, in the sense of * St. John of the Cross, DarkNight, Bk. 1, ch. 10, no.4, Works, p. 317. ,o The Cloud of Unknowing, ed. William Johnston, S.J., Doubleday Image, Garden City, 1973, p. 56. ~' Chapman, op. cit., p. 290. ~2 M. Eugene Boylan, O.C.S.O., Difficulties in Mental Prayer, 2nd. ed., M. H. Gill and Son, Dublin, 1944, p. 102. The Retreat Director and the Contemplative / 173 feeling "I am good at prayer," "! have an infallible method." That would be disastrous, since what we want to learn is precisely our own weakness, powerlessness, unworthiness. Nor ought one to expect "a sense of the reality of the supernatural" of which you speak. And one should wish for no prayer, except precisely the prayer that God gives us--prob-ably very distracted and unsatisfactory in every way! '~ But if we only pray in order to give ourselves to God, then the prayer we can do, whatever it is (doubtless it is not the very best we can do, but in general it is the only kind we can do), is what God wants, though it is far from being what we want. Only we must try to want what God wants, and only that. Don't worry." A favorite maxim of Chapman's was "Pray as you can and don't try to pray as you can't." He puts this doctrine to one correspondent in the form of a question: Can you do anything else? Can you choose your path, your prayer, your method or want of method?" At least ten times in the collection of his letters, Chapman insists on the point: want only the prayer the Lord is giving you. These passages suggest the purifying effect of contemplation. It becomes so arid at times that we must be praying not for our own sake but for God's sake. The reflection on our prayer after the prayer is finished, recommended by St. Ignatius in the Spiritual Exercises~6 could also be of help to a con-templative who seems just to be stumbling along. Reflection may reveal an obscure sense of Presence that was missed during the prayer itself: ¯ . ihe experience of void, of emptiness, of no-thing and non-being; it is the condition of kenosis and poverty of spirit. The sense of absence and negation is painfully real. Yet the experience seizes the reality of God more truly, because it touches him as he is, beyond feelings, images, concepts. Living faith alone can achieve this, and the purer and less en-cumbered the faith, the more real the possession of God. By the same token, however, God, the object of faith, becomes less "visible" or empirically experienced in any human terms. ,7 The fact that writers on prayer are concerned with the states we find in ourselves is itself an encouragement: To add to our distress, the failure to enjoy the sense of God's presence, often coupled with failure to fix the mind even for two moments on any thought that might provide a contact, makes us feel that we are doing nothing, and that bur so-called prayer is nothing but a waste of time and an insult to Almighty God. It is very necessary not to be stampeded or panicked by the cry that rises in our hearts, "I am doing nothing." One simple way of proving that we are not doing nothing is to Chapman, op. cit., p. 52. Ibid., p. 54. Ibid., p. 56. Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius, no. 77. Ernest E. Larkin, O. Carm., "The Dark Night of John of the Cross," The Way, vo. 1,4, no.l (1974), p. 15. 174 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/2 stop doing it. Provided that in spite of appearances we have been endeavoring to reach awareness of God, then the cessation of the endeavor will be observed.'8 Now let us turn to specifics for the time of retreat. What we have said so far is not to be forgotten. The most difficult thing for the director is to lay aside the expectations that the retreatant will: 1) have thoughts, insights, feel-ings in time of prayer;'2) report to the director said thoughts, insights, feelings of prayer time. To have these thoughts and feelings, insights, belongs to a kind of prayer that makes use of the mind and imagination. For the con-templative, these have been set aside. John of the Cross is adamant on this: Once a person has begun to enter this simple and idle state of contemplation, which comes about when he can no longer meditate, he should not at any time or season engage in meditations or look for support in spiritual savor or satisfaction, but stand upright on his own feet, with his spirit completely detached from everything . ~9 Chapman concurs: All those who find it impossible to meditate, not from la~:iness or lukewarmness, and find they cannot fix their thought on a subject, or understand the meaning Of the words unless they cease to feel that they are praying, are meant to cease all thinking, and only make acts of the will.2° Some directors may feel that they have had experiences with contemplative ret~'eatants contrary to this prescription. I think we must be careful in making this judgment. The retreatant may have felt constrained to follow carefully the given directions and somehow come through with something to report on. It may be that he or she is actually reporting on events that occurred outside of prayer. Or it is possible that it has come from a prayer time not without ex-treme violence to the prayer: Though, at first, a// meditation seems impossible, still, as one is practiced in contempla-tion, it becomes possible to meditate feebly and contemplate feebly at one and the same time. I mean that we can retain a filmy idea of some great truth--but then the tap is only half turned on of attention to God--unless the thoughts are merely in the imagination. This is good in hearing Mass, for instance, but not in time of mental prayer?' But if this has happened, we have failed in an important way. The annual retreat may be most fruitful for many if, through it, they find how they should pray best. And this praying "with the tap half off" is not the affirmation they need. So what is left for the director to do? Two things, I believe. The first is to do what I have just indicated: what is necessary inside and outside of retreat time: affirm the retreatant's prayer. Use all the helps given above, and any others available--some readings, perhaps--to assure the retreatant that he or L. Boase, pp. cir., p. 81. John of the Cross, Living Flame, Stanza 3, no. 36, Works, p.624. Chapman, pp. cit., p. 289. Ibid., p. 122. The Retreat Director and the Contemplative / 175 she is praying as the Lord would have them pray; suggest they accept his will; let them see they really don't have much choice if they are going to pray at all. Some may have experienced the "tap half open" that Chapman speaks of: a thinking while they pray, but with the realization that their thoughts really are not their prayer. Encourage them to open the tap wide. In addition to this, the second thing: the director can still use Scripture, and the retreatant can actually move through a program--even the thirty-day Exercises. Only in this instance the Scripture is not to be the object of formal prayer. We have been constantly pointing out that for the contemplative, meditation is not prayer. But in the many periods outside of formal prayer during a retreat day, tho~ughts may come. The Scripture passages may bear their fruit. Let us refer to Chapman again: Outside the time of prayer:--(a) Meditation must never be dropped. It need not be elaborate consideration, but a mere glance at the mysteries of our Lord, especially of the Passion. Most people will find it very easy and helpful to make the Stations of the Cross in private?~ Again, the reflection on the prayer period can frequently be a source of special grace. Though there may have been no th6ught in the prayer, especial-ly helpful insights may come at this time. Chapman points out an effect of prayer that may have important meaning here: .and this act,of wish to love must go on increasing, or I should say at once the prayer is bad. But whether there is any emotional feeling outside prayer depends on the character of the person in question. But l am sure good prayer must increase tenderness (so to speak) and appreciation in a momentary look, without long consideration. And I am sure there is an "irradiation" from prayer on ordinary knowledge, making it broader and more compreh~nsive.Z~ If the retreatant's prayer is very quiet and if the circumstances of retreat reduce distractions so th~it the sense of Presence of the Lord is strong, even that Presence can be Colored by the phase of the retreat. How it may be I don't know, but I believe the modality of Presence, ol~scure as it may be, i~ different for a retreatant in the First Week of the Spiritual Exercises than it is for him in the Fourth Week. All this may sound very un-Ignatian, but I do not believe it is. There is an interesting couple of sentences on theoprayer of the Ignatian Exercises in the Dictibnary of Spirituality: But the Exercises aim to lead a soul in the way and manner of prayer which God wishes for it. Ignatius does not judge in advance what the divine work will be.2' Ibid., p. 292. Ibid., p. 78 f. Dictionnaire de SpiritualitY, Beauchesne, Paris, 1953, t2, pt.2 col. 2025: Mais les Exercises vi- 176 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/2 Is this entirely gratuitous? I think if one takes a look at Ignatius' history of prayer, one will read certain phrases in the Exercises in exactly the sense of this quotation. Although annotation no. 15 refers directly to decision making, it has other overtones: . but in the course of these spiritual exercises, it is more appropriate that., the Creator and Lord should be left to deal himself with the soul that belongs to him, receiving it into his love and the life of praise . " What is Ignatius saying in Annotation 20? The more our soul finds itself in perfect solitude, the fitter does it become to approach and reach up to its Creator and Lord; and the closer it gets to Him, the more disposed does it become to receive favors and gifts from his supreme divine goodness.26 Then there are implications in one interpretation of the Application of Senses, the final prayer of nearly every day of the Exercises. If one accepts Mar6chal,27 the Application of.Senses leads from discursive prayer toward contemplative prayer. If this is indeed Ignatius' intention, I doubt that he would mind if the retreatant turned to contemplation before the end of the day, or from the beginning of the day. Certainly not all questions are a0swered, all difficulties overcome. But I believe that if the director guides the contemplative in the way outlined here, which includes very little Scripture each day, the retreatant will grow in the Lord.z8 The director definitely needs some of the faith Ignatius had that the Lord really is very much dealing with his creature whom he loves with a love that is tender and powerful. The Transition to Contemlflation Our second case is one who is on the border line between meditation and contemplation. Such a retreatant is a very special person. It is a critical time. There is an opportunity for great growth. There is the chance that even long years lie ahead without peace in prayer, a sense of being at sea. There is also the danger that prayer will prove to be just so different that it will be complete-ly laid 'aside. Certainly the director cannot determine all--this we must face. There is only one real expert on what helps a person in prayer, and that expert is the person who is praying. The director may make suggestions, give warnings, teach. But only the one praying can tell if it works--except for the criterion of sent ~ conduire ~'6me dans la voie et le mode d' oraison que Dieu veut pour elle. Ignace ne prdjuge pas I'opdration divine (M. Olphe-Galliard). 2, Spiritual Exercises, no. 15. Corbishley's translation (Anthony Clarke, Wheathampstead, Hert-fordshire, 1973). 26 Ibid., no. 20. 27 See the article on "Application des Sens" in the Dictionnaire de SpiritualitY. ~B 1 say "little Scripture" here as the program for the retreat. If the retreatant will be helped by more extensive reading, it certainly should be considered. The Retreat Director and the Contemplative / 177 the effect the prayer is having on daily living. Is the retreatant at the point where attempts to meditate should be given up, where he should turn to contemplation? St. John of the Cross gives signs for this in two places which Chapman abbreviates as:'9 1) impossibility of meditating, no pleasure in using the imagination, delight in being alone and waiting lovingly upon God;3° and 2) dryness, without.comfort either in God or in creatures, painful anxiety as to fervor, inability to meditate.3' John of the Cross also discusses the transition at length in Stanza 3 of the Living Flame of Love, but there he seems content with the inability to meditate, and his atten-tion is very much on the director.3' John's teaching is thus summarized by Chapman: . Many persons pass long years., when they cannot meditate, and yet are afraid to contemplate; and the signs are less easy to recognize. They have tried methods, one after another, they have tried reading and pondering, and then reading again (a good way of keeping off distraction); alas, perhaps they have almost given up mental prayer in despair . They do not feel urged by a frequent thought of God, nor do they dare say that they have a disgust of creatures. On the contrary they have found the spiritual life so dry that they have felt thrown upon creatures for consolations., they have imagined themselves to be going back because they have no devotion, no "feelings"; and perhaps they are really going back, since they have not learned the right path forward. But they have the essential marks., for they cannot meditate--it is a physical im-possibility . They are able to think out a subject, to work out a sermon., but they feel such considerations are not prayer. They want to unite themselves with God, not reason about what he has done for them or what they have to do for him.~ If things are anything like what Chapman describes here, certainly ex-perimentation is in order. The retreatant should be encouraged at least to try some quiet times, times of waiting or listening. Later I will mention some reading material especially for those who may have given up prayer, which may also be useful. Chapman mentions the possibility of an interim period: There is sometimes a period when meditation is sometimes possible, sometimes not. In this case use meditation whenever possible. This state will not last long.~' If the experimentation shows some signs that tfiis is the right direction to go, the material we gave above for the developed contemplative should apply. I suppose one should mention the possibility and danger of someone out of pride claiming that the contemplative way is his or her way. It could happen. ~9 0p. cit., p.287. ~o TheAscent of Mt. Carmel, Bk. 2, ch. 13, Works, p. 140 ff. ~ The Dark Night of the Soul. Bk. I, ch. 9, Works, p. 313 ff. ~2 Works, p. 620 ff. ~ Chapman, op. ~it., p. 287 f. ~' Chapman, op. cit., p. 289. St. John of the Cross agrees with this: Ascent, Bk. 2, oh. 15, Works, 148. 178 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/2 If it does, questions of humility, obedience and charity should help to suitable discernment. But in the prayer culture of more recent times, the preponderant influence has not been to make false contemplatives but to give the impression that there is no such thing as contemplation. Resuming Prayer Again Ernest Larkin speaks of the beginning of contemplation: This initial con, templauon ~s at first so tenuous and delicate that it would go undetected without the outside assurance of a spiritual director." Often, of course, there is no spiritual director to give that assurance. And without it, many lose their way in prayer. This has a special element of tragedy about it: the opportunity for growth has become the occasion for slipping backward. If a retreatant has a sense at the beginning of the retreat that "it's not go-ing to work," he may actually be experiencing this crisis. If he reports that there has been no regular prayer for a long time lately, especially if there was once a tithe when prayer seemed to mean Presence, this may indicate that ~he invitation io contemplation has been missed. Certainly a review of the retreat-ant's history of prayer is in order. I like very much Chapman's "Pray as you can and don't try to pray as you can't." A friend has turned it around a bit: "If you are persevering in prayer, you are probably praying at least close to the way you should." A prolonged attempt ,to keep prayer up when one is not praying in the way one should will not work. What does this all add up to? Hope, I think. If a retreatant has not been praying, first try to explore and find the prayer that is best for this one now. There is a chance you have a contemplative on your hands who just needs to be aimed right. As to beginning afresh, or where you left off, I don't think you have any choice! You simply have to begin wherever you find yourself. Make any acts you want to make and feel you ought to make; but do not force yourself into feelings of any kind.J~ The exploration may include some attempts at discursive prayer--but not pushed too hard. The whole atmosphere ought to be "Lord teach us to pray";" and the expectation that the Lord will confirm the right way of prayer by his Presence, even if most obscurely. If the results seem to indicate that the way of contemplation is right for this retreatant, the material presented above should prove again useful. A retreat director who has helped a retreatant who has ceased to pray to find his way again has done an excellent Ernest E. Larkin, O. Carm., 7~he Way, 1974, p. 14. Chapman, op. cit., p. 53. One might offer some readings. See the bibliography at the end of this article. The Retreat Director and the Contemplative / 179 thing. Perhaps tied up with the syndrome of laying prayer aside is a kind of par-tial laying it down: "I can't pray for more than a half hour"; "Centering works for me for twenty minutes." Implicit in such statements seems to be a theory of prayer that says it ought to be easy or feel nice, or be successful. Many of the quotations we have given thus far show that prayer is a work of faith, and that it is purifying and often most difficult. We can add another: You are on the lookout for "consolation," merely because you still imagine that you are not serving God properly when you are in dryness. Make up your mind once for all that dryness is best, and you will find that you are frightened at having anything else! Em-brace aridities and distractions and temptations, and you will find you love to be in ~ darkness, and that there is a supersensible light that is simply extinguished by consola-tion!~ a Those, then, who claim that only short periods of prayer work need in-struction: How long to I~ray. One thinks of one full hotir daily . St. Peter of Alcantara says, "When the time is too short, it is passed in unloading the imagination and in bringing the heart under control; just at the moment when we are ready and ought to be beginning., we stop it . It would seem that the more active and distracting our daily life is, the more need there is of a full hour of "relaxing, coming to rest in God". We . need the~daily "healing of soul" and "opening to the Spirit" in quiet and silence if we lead a busy life . In view of all this, one would not advocate the practice of having two separate periods of thirty minutes each, instead of one full hour at one time.~9 But if centering prayer (rightly understood, this is just another name for the contemplation we have been talking about) is right, don't try to prolong it by discursive prayer. Rather persevere ,in silent faithful waiting. Chapman, op. cit., p. 99. James Borst, M.H.M., A Method of Contemplative Prayer, Asian Trading Corp., Bombay, 1973, p. 25. SOME REFERENCES FOR READING What I present here will not be systematic, mainly what has helped me. In some cases I will give more background, iri others less. Throughout the text of this article, I have carefully suppressed any references to "dark nights" or to "mysticism," lest anyone be scared away. Sooner or later it has to come out. It can't be avoided in these references to the literature. But maybe it won't sound so bad now. Dom John Chapman, O.S.B., Spiritual Letters, first published 1935, Sheed and Ward, London. An insert in my copy says "distributed in the United States by Christian Classics, 205 Willis Street, Westminster, Md. 21157, though I believe it may be found in many bookstores. 180 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/2 This is obviously one of my favorites. Chapman, a convert, died in 1932. His letters are almost exclusively to those whose prayer seems to be contemplative and his advice is very much down to earth, In appendices there are two special essays: "Contemplative Prayer, a Few Simple Rules" and "What is Mysiicism?" St. John of the Cross, Collected Works, translated by Kieran Kavanaugh, O.C.D., and Otilio Rodriguez, O.C.D., Institute of Carmelite Studies, Washington, D.C., 1979. Many have felt that John of the Cross would be too difficult. He is actually writing for beginners and is much con-cerned with the transition from discursive prayer to contemplation. This transition, the failure of mind and imagination to be prayer, is what he calls the Dark Night of the Senses. It seems unfor-tunate that the term "dark night" is used so casually to mean any difficulty in prayer or the spiritual life and at the same time so little attention is given to its real meaning for St. John. The most useful sections of his writings in connection with the problems we have been discuss-ing are in the Ascent of Mr. Carmel. Ch. 13, 14, 15 of Book II (Works, p. 140 ff.); in The Dark Night of the.Soul, Book I, Ch. 8 to about 13 (Works, p. 311 ff.); in The Living Flame ~fLove, Stanza 3, 27 ff. (Works, p. 620 ff.). In this last section he has some unkind words about spiritual directors he has known. Leonard Boase, S.J., The Prayer of Faith, Our Sunday Visitor, Huntington, IN, 1975. This is the second revision of a gem that first appeared in 1950, published then by the London Apostleship of Prayer. It is surprising in how many libraries you may find it--a testimony of how its worth was recognized. This book is aimed at someone who is having difficulty in prayer precisely bgcause discursive prayer is failing. It is beautifully written. M. Eugene Boylan, D(fficulties in Mental Prayer; M.H. Gill and Son, Ltd.,Dublin, 1944. This used.to scare me. The title's reference to mental prayer suggested "more techniques for medita-tion." Actually, in purpose it is much like Boase. One chapter toward the end is "The Prayer of Faith." Jean Pierre de Caussade, S.J., On Prayer, trans, by Algar Thorold, Benziger, New York, NY, 1931. The introduction is by Abbot Chapman. In this work, de Caussade reduces to a kind of catechism Bossuet's work on Quietism. The first part of the book is on th6 errors of Quietism, and if it exaggerates the actual intent of the Quietists, at least it shows what was condemned in the name of Quietism. I found it useful. Sometimes it seems that a fear of Quietism may be operative in keeping prayer very active. The second part of the book (sometimes printed by itself) helps one grow toward simplicity in prayer--still in the form of question and answer. James Borst, M.H.M., A Method of Contemplative Prayer, Asian Trading Corporation, Bom-bay, India, 1973. The sixth edition is the one I have. The preface to the fifth edition is dated 1975. The foreword is by Abhiskiktananda, known to many by his own book on prayer. Despite the remoteness of the publisher, I believe this is quite available in good .religious book stores. It is hardly more than a pamphlet, 62 pages. Fr. Borst is a member of the charismatic movement in In-dia, but the book is all on contemplation. It is an excellent "how to do" introduction. The Cloud of Unknowing, anonymous 14th century English writer, Doubleday Image, Garden City, N.Y., 1973. A classic on the subject of contemplation. The editor is William Johnston, S.J. The Book of Privy Counseling by the same unknown author is included in the Image edition, as well as cross references to the works of St. John of the Cross. M. Basil Pennington, O.C.S.O., Daily We Touch Him, Practical Religious Experienc(s, Double-day and Company, Inc. Garden City, NY, 1977; and Abbot Thomas Keating, O.C.S.O., M. Basil Pennington, O.C.S.O., and Thomas E. Clarke, S.J., Finding Grace at the Center, St. Bede Publications, Still Run, MA, 1978. Both these books are introductions to "centering prayer"--the title taken from Merton and the technique from the Cloud of Unknowing. There is considerable overlap between the two books, Pennington's contribution to the second matching much of what he says in the first. As I read it, those proposing centering prayer seem to take it as a The Retreat Director and the Contemplative / 181 method anyone might use any time, while John of the Cross says there is a time and there are signs when to begin and that you then never lay it aside. Of course, many today may be prepared for contemplation who simply have not known it and these books could help them. Anthony de Mello, S.J., Sadhana: A Way to God, The Institute of Jesuit Sources, St. Louis, MO, 1978. The book bears a subtitle: Christian Exercises in Eastern Form. Ft. De Mello is an Indian Jesuit in whom east and west might meet. Exercises in awareness open one to a quiet that makes contemplation possible. Later sections take up prayer and fantasy, devotion. In a certain way, the book's structure seems backward in the light of John of the Cross' teaching. William Johnston, S.J., Silent Music, The Science of Meditation, Harper and Row, New York, 1974; The Inner Eye of Love, Mysticism and Religion, Harper and Row, New York, NY, 1978. The first of these surveys meditation (taken in its widest sense, as one says "Zen meditation") east and west. Ft. Johnston, with a degree in mystical theology and years of residence in Japan, is singularly qualified. Silent Music among other things, gives some reports on scientific ex-periments in the altered states of consciousness associated with meditation. Later sections deal with questions of healing and intimacy and their relation to meditation. The Inner Eye is an essay in the contemporary theology of mysticism, not limited to Christian mysticism. Thomas H. Green, S.J., When the Well Runs Dry, Prayer Beyond t.he Beginnings, Ave Maria Press, Notre Dame, IN, 1979. This recent book I met only after finishing this article. Ft. Green draws much from St. Theresa as well as John of the Cross. It should be very helpful for many. Invitation Come, Master Harper, Play my life, Gliding fingers down the dream strings Dancing 'long undreamed of paths Not bound by frame of wood or thought. Blend the patters and the pitches with the peace of new creation And the death of all I know, 'Til new sounds, unsounded still, reverberate through all ! am and i am played unto the end. Then touch my strings to stop them, And when the echoes fade, In this last silence Let the infinite variations of Your own theme begin. Sister Linda Karas, RSM Religious Consultation Center Dallas, PA 18612 When You Can't Pray: Removing Obstacles to Prayer Mary C. Coelho Mary Coelho is coordinator of the program in spiritual direction at the Center for Christian Spirituality; General Theological Seminary. She resides at 800 Riverside Drive, Apt. 7C; New York, NY 10032. For Christians, prayer is the route to the inner way, the treasure in the field. Yet many Christians find they can't pray. Feelings of anger, inadequacy, impatience--and perhaps abandonment--arise from our frustration in prayer. We cannot understand our frustration in the light of the promise that we are continually sought by God. If God seeks us and we try to seek God, what happens to frustrate a meeting? If the soul is naturally Christian, shouldn't the desire of our heart for communion with God issue naturally in the fulfill-ment of that desire? What goes awry? We know the path is arduous and the gate is narrow, but we doubt if we are even on the path. Merely delineating some of the obstacles to prayer can help us find our way on the early stages of the path. When we do this, we become less discouraged simply because identifying and recognizing the obstacles means we are aware bf the cause of our difficulties with prayer. We no longer project our frustration and failure into anger and disbelief while we remain immobile and unchanging. We can take responsibility for the obstacles and cooperate in their removal. Thus a process of identification of internal obstacles to prayer can be a source of help toward growth in prayer. Prayer is our response when we have found ourselves possessed and sought by God on some occasion in our life. Our beginning to seek God is difficult and tortured, yet it is one which we are irresistibly drawn to make. William Blake's words, "We are put on earth for a little space that we may learn to 182 When You Can't Pray / 183 bear the beams of love" strikingly state this fundamental invitation to human beings to respond to God. But we find it hard to be open to these beams of love. Part of the response of prayer is concerned with the changes necessary in order for us to become less resistant to and less afraid of the "beams of love." This quiet openness to change is related to the Christian tradition of the "prayer of the heart." Thomas Merton describes it as "a way of keeping oneself in the presence of God and of reality, rooted in one's inner truth.'" Merton's insistence on being rooted in one's inner truth shows that learning to bear the "beams of love" involves a deep form of self-knowledge. We have to be willing to face the negative as well as the positive elements which we find in our inner selves. The obstacles to prayer we are going to identify and describe here primarily revolve around failure in self-knowledge and the fear and resistance we often produce to obscure our inner depths. The beams of love which bear witness to the priority and initiative of God encourage us to face our resistance and frustration with hope. God is working in us at depths beyond our comprehension. We begin then with the trust that God's love is greater than our failure, however deep that may be. Paradoxically, it is the very activity of God's love in us which uncovers our resistances and invites us to acknowledge them. When we do that, the resistances begin to lose their power, Indeed the whole process is one of recognition of the obstacle, repentance, and purgation. The only justification for this apparently negative activity, which we so resist, is that we may more and more be available to the energies of love working in us. St. Augustine wrote, "We come to God by love and not by navigation." Isn't our intention to describe obstacles to prayer an attempt at navigation? Augustine gives priority to the love which is always drawing us rather than to the techniques of ndvigation which we wish to employ to bring us to our destination. We:may suspect that our struggles with the obstacles to prayer are only an attempt at Pelagian navigation and an attempt to control the whole adventure of prayer. But navigation can be of a cooperative nature and not the fixing of a forced course to a predetermined destination. What may look like navigation on our part is in reality dependent i)n the love of Goal already working in us. It is this very love which encourages us .to enter the struggle to be free to bear the beams of love. It is this very love which enables and en-courages us to be navigators in relation to the internal obstacles to prayer. The journey inward is not primarily accomplished by our own efforts: it is rather a double search. In prayer we seek God as our response to knowing that God seeks and loves us. We are invited to collaborate with the creative God who calls'us to b~ecome pilgrims in the land of our interior depths. We are ready now to look at some obstacles to prayer in some detail. These obstacles include our woundedness, our fear of darkness in ourselves, our Thomas Mert0n, Contemplative Prayer (New York, Herder and Herder, 1969), p. 24. 184 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/2 need to achieve, our lack of patience, our lack of gratitude, and our failure to trust our inner longing for God. Our Woundedness One reason for frustration in prayer, for our failure to collaborate with the love of God, is our woundedness. We feel rejected, unwanted, unloved. We believe that we have not been loved sufficiently in the past. This has been so painful an experience that we dare not risk accepting the vulnerability which love demands. As one Christian has written, "And because our need to be loved and to give love is so deep and central, to be denied this makes us angry beyond the conscious knowing, and an angry person consciously or un-consciously is tempted to destroy, to kill and often does. Most people in the world are deeply angry.''2 Our often unconscious devices for protecting us from further wounds tend to cut us off from God in spite of an avowed con-scious desire to be open to his love and a belief in his graciousness. Likewise anger, often deep and unconscious, can generate an energy which pervades our whole being and thus deflects our attention away f~om God's healing presence. A wounded person may find it actually impossible to allow himself or herself to be open and vulnerable. What are we to do in the face of such an impasse? Surely it is impossible to make ourselves suddenly open and vulner-able so that love can work more effectively in us and through us. Are there any ways of navigating in the face of our woundedness? Although we feel unloved and rejected, we will discover thereare some people who care about us, enjoy us and even love us. If we begin, however tentative-ly, to risk trusting this care and love, we will find the pressure to run away-- either physically, or in the myriad of small ways by which we shut off personal involvement--greatly diminished. When we begin consciously to admit our desire and need to be with certain people, we will also accept this desire and need and act on them. We do this in the face of knowing that the care and love offered by others will also be wounded and imperfect, and that we will un-doubtedly be hurt again. Reaching out to others in spite of our woundedness will often mean finding new friends or deepening our trust and availability to a spouse, an old friend, a priest, a teacher, or a spiritual director. Opening ourselves to the love of others is comparable, on a psychological level, to opening ourselves to God, who reveals himself as One who knows what it is to be wounded. Not only do we need to allow others to love us and care for us as we are, we also need to to do the same for ourselves, especially our wounded parts. As an area of woundedness within us is made conscious, we need to accept it, acknowledge it and let it be part of us. This involves a deep self-acceptance. Gordon Cosby, "The Invisible World," Faith at Work, March, 1976, p. 6. When You Can't Pray / 185 Sister Rachel Hosmer describes3 praying in a chapel where she felt secure, separated from noise and distraction in the building and separated from her own unhappiness and loneliness in a community. But she realized she did not want this separate, safe place. She writes, "From then on I began to realize that I had to go down to the roots of my own life, where lives a small, rebellious, treacherous, wounded, tear-stained child. I had to encounter her gently, lovingly, take her in my arms, comfort her, listen to her, share with her." Such recognition and gentle acceptance of our woundedness allows us to drop the barriers that protected our woundedness. These are the same pro-tective barriers that prevent our vulnerability in prayer. Accepting our woundedness means we can move closer to rootedness in our inner truth and that we can better live in the presence of God and reality. Fear of Darkness in Ourselves Another reason for disappointment in prayer related to Our woundedness is our fear of the darkness in ourselves. On encountering darkness in ourselves, we may have tried to deny its existence or distract ourselves from looking at it further. If we choose to avoid our own darkness we are also choosing to withdraw from any deep involvement with prayer. True prayer will not allow us either to deny our darknesses nor be seduced by distraction. We have no choice but to come back to the darkness if we are to learn to pray. And u~ually our darknesses are thrown into consciousness in such a way that we can't possibly avoid them anyway. By coming upon darkness in ourselves, I mean meeting deep anger, empti-ness, loneliness, guilt, fear, excessive pride, a sense of failure to live up to ideals, a recognition of helplessness before some desire or habit, a recognition of not truly living, or the sense of living a lie--to name a few! Closing off en-counter with these aspects of our personality will not be replaced by light, but by a gray world in which God is distant and detached.' Encounter with darkness in ourselves is an essential element of true prayer. It is part of the movement towards true light. Meeting darkness in ourselves is not a reason for failure in prayer. It is an early stage of prayer. It becomes an obstacle if we fail to acknowledge it or attempt to hide from it. Once an aspect of personal darkness has been seen and acknowledged, how can we navigate in relationship to it? We need to trust that through it and beyond it, new life will emerge inus. This trust is based on the faith that God is already working in us, calling us to wholeness. We need to trust that the darkness will lose its Power and that we will be sustained in our struggle with ~ Sr. Rachel Hosmer, New Principles for Christian Spirituality (Center for Christian Spirituality, General Theological Seminary, 175 Ninth Avenue, New York 10011), 13. 23. ' William J. Connolly, S.J. "Experiences of Darkness in Directed Retreats," REviEw RELIGIOUS VOI. 33 1974, p. 611. 186 / Review.for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/2 it. Nor dare we give the excuse that it is inappropriate to concentrate on gloomy things. Conscious work with darkness in ourselves may necessitate the finding of professional help because the obstacle to prayer may have deep roots in our character. A basic confidence in facing darkness is found in the paschal rhythm of the Christian life, the passage from death to life in Christ and our entry into that drama places all our struggles in a wider and healing context. Conscious encounter with darkness can be the beginning of the dissolution of the power of ~hat darkness, although it is hard to believe that could be true on first encounter with it. We realize it has been a dominant, determining force in our lives and we feel caught, defeated, and totally determined .by it. But the initial step of consciousness of the darkness is of critical importance. We were previously unaware of the darkness and it held sway in our lives free-ly and unbeknownst to us. By acknowledging and facing the guilt, the fear or the loneliness, the darkness no longer has an unchallenged freedom to operate in our lives. And as we face the darkness, we find that ,the king has no clothes." There is a gradual shift in our self understanding which involves the growth and emergence of new life and wholeness. However painful and slow this may be, the facing of our darkness is an essential task. To avoid darkness is to do so at the price of living in shallowness and unreality. Willingness to face and deal with darkness, instead of denying it and hiding it, is one of the clearest indications that our own reali-ty, rather than an idealized concept of ourselves, has entered into the dialogue to which God is always calling us. Usually the busy round of normal daily demands prevents buried parts of ourselves from becoming conscious. In fact we often consciously and ~uncon-sciously pattern our lives precisely to hide from the truth about ourselves and to maintain a false, idealized image that we have carefully constructed. Often a weekend retreat or a longer period of silence is the occasion of a sudden breaking of this image, when an aspect of darkness is allowed to come to the surface. For this reason, retreats and other ways of breaking tlie daily patt.ern of demands, are essential if we are to move beyond disappointment in prayer. Need to Achieve Many of us have a high need to achieve. A person with a high need to achieve as a wiry of earning identity and self-esteem will try to make prayer an achievement. But he will inevitably be disappointed when trying to turn prayer into a performance. This is because a great deal of achievement in our culture depends on a willful manipulation of life by our conscious ~elves whereas prayer involves an open availability to life and a desire not to do our ego-will but the will of God. The failure of attempts to pray by sheer effort is.a crucial event for the would-be "achiever" which must be recognized and faced honestly. We approach prayer with the same attitudes with which we approach the Whbn You Can "t Pray /A 87 rest of life.~ We aren't different people when we pray, although we would like to think otherwise. Many of the carefully acquired manipulative skills we have learned to earn a place in life, to be "successful," in reality impede our open-ness to the totality of life as it is. The methods of consulting experts, strenuously learning the latest or oldest method of meditation or prayer, reading all the books, while not unimportant, will not "work" if the informa-tion is applied in a willful, controlling, achievement-oriented way. How does the achiever who has failed at praying continue from the point of his failure? God's hiddenness to him could drive him to ask hard questions and then to abandon his achieving ways, since they don't work anyway! Our own aggressiveness and desire to control and manipulate are systematically humiliated as we begin to face the realization that what matters most in life is not at the service of our achieving devices. The very frustration and fail~re are teaching us to learn and try other modes of being and to undermine our view of life as being validated only by achievement. What aspects of the human being are more receptive to God's love? Learn-ing to listen, to hear, to be passive and receptive, to wait and be patient, to trust intuition, these are qualities most often associated with the feminine side of our life. It takes a !ong time for both male and female achievers to learn and to trusi these qualities of our being. Yet it is through the receptive, feminine side of life that we can learn to pray and know God. Unfortunately it often seems to take an occasion of helplessness to recognize the importance of the so-called feminine side of our personality. This occasion may be serious ill-ness, admission Of alcoholism, death of a beloved person, loss of work or the dissolution of an important intimate relationship. . The feminine aspects of personality, however, can be slowly nourished by a va.riety of means. For example by meditative listening to scripture we learn to let scripture address us personally. This depends on a receptive openness find a capacity to listen. Listening to dreams, which come to us from another world beyond our control, can be of essential importance in a growing con-sciousness of the restrictedness and narrowness of the confines of the con-scious, achieving personality. In the give and take of friendship or in marriage we slowly learn to let go of our willful ordering of the other person's life and gradually accept the unique-nes~ and otherness of the friend or spouse with their mixture of strengths and weaknesses, beauty.and ugliness. Participation in a small group, as a "house church," prayer group, therapy group or group for spiritual direction, gradually instructs us in the capacity to relate to life in nonachieving ways. A group has a life of its own, so that living and sharing in its life invites us to participate in a larger life outside ~ William J. Connolly S.J. "Disappointment in Prayer: Prelude to Growth?" REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Vol. 32, 1973, p. 557. "188 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/2 our narrowly limited consciouness. Some typesof movement and dance, painting, walks in nature are means for some people to learn to drop their aggressive and manipulative ways. All of these may lead us to a humility before life which calls us to live more prayer-fully in it. Lack of Personal Freedom We have just described the "need to achieve" as a pattern of behavior that may cause disappointment in prayer. This is a specific example of a larger problem that blocks our prayer. We are disappointed in prayer because we obstinately cling to false or narrow and unexamined conscious goals, opin-ions, atntudes and feelings. We all do this to some degree and we need to learn to detect the ways in which we unconsciously narrow our lives. William Con-nolly writes: "The person who is controlled by fear, by anger, by a fixed idea of his or her futur.e, finds himself or herself incapable of more than superficial prayer. When a person begins to be freed of that control, he becomes capable of deeper prayer.''6 The detection and unearth.ing of our narrow and unexamined conscious goals and opinions, attitudes and feelings is a slow and difficult process. We are so wedded to them and convinced of their correctness, or so take them for granted, that they are not even a subject of our consideration. How then can we detect them? Often the truth we most need to ponder is initially unattrac-tive. We resist it. It bothers us and even repels us. This is a clue to'look again. The more there is at stake emotionally in some idea, proposal or change of the way of doing things, the more we can be sure it deserves our careful attention to detect the causes of our alarm. Or we may observe that we strongly dislike someone who never did us any harm. We should suspect they have qualities and patterns of being that we also have, but have rejected in ourselves, losing conscious awareness of them. But we can gradually become aware of some of the constrictions in our personality and our ways of being so that we are more available to the divine freedom. As we consciously acknowledge these con-strictions we are freer to act out of love and caring. God does not force our behavior, but a personality that is more self-accepting and freer is more available to act out of God's love. A person with a raw, unguarded immediacy to God and to life is moving towards freedom to live and love. Lack of Patience Another reason for disappointment in prayer may be an unwillingness to be patient with ourselves and with the process of learning to pray. Advice to "be patient" sounds like something you sa.y in the absence of any more specific help. It is especially difficult for Americans who believe, although William J. Connolly S.J. "Freedom and Prayer in Directed Retreats," REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, Vol. 32, 1973, p. 1359. When You Can't Pray with diminishing confidence, that, with some effort, discipline and extra work, we can get what we want. I hate to write it, American that I am, and I have learned it the hard way, but I believe that an unwillingness to wait and to be patient is a reason for disappointment in prayer. It is honest, sound advice. The necessity to be patient and wait does not mean that we become passive and listless. Nor does it mean that we are to be patient about all aspects of life. If the landlord doesn't give you heat, you should not be patient about that. But in relation to prayer, advice to be patient is an honest recognition that the transformation of our person by grace toward wholeness is a slow process. The education and training. (ascesis) of our person to be available to God's love is slow. Even the sudden gifts of moments of grace do not preclude the slow, gradual process of sanctification. Time, clocktime, is notof the essence. There are no shortcuts or tricks in the life of prayer. When Friedrich yon Hugel was eighteen, he was advised by the Dominican priest, Raymond Hocking "You want to grow in virtue, to serve God, to love Christ? Well you will grow in and attain these things if you will make them a slow and sure, and utterly real, mountainstep plod and ascent, willing to have to camp for week.s in spiritual desolation, darkness and emptiness at different ~tages in your march and growth. All demand for constant light, all attempt at eliminating or minimizing the cross and trial, is so much folly or puerile trifling.''7 Lack of Gratitude At times our feeling of disappointment in prayer may resultfrom a failure to celebrate and be grateful for the grace and gifts and strength we do,receive in our daily lives and in prayer. Unfortunately it seems easier to focus on our struggles and to suffer than ~to celebrate and enjoy changes in the quality.of our life or that of our neighor. Small changes of heart, a sense of being reconverted, and simple acts of love seem fragile and transient in the face of major human dislocations. We need to sing more, if we sing, or dance more, if we dance, in order to sustain our celebration of life. We need the ability to be carefree, to disregard appearances, to relax and laugh at the world and ourselves. These are all ~ways of being grateful and saying "yes" to life. Douglas Steere often says in his retreats t.hat he doesn't know. of a better way to enter prayer than through gratitude. Lack of Obedience in Small Things We proudly look for some major insight or a profound illumination or a clear call to an exciting, life-transforming project. However much to be treasured; such desires are often more a need of the ego than a readiness to Bernard Hollard, ed., Selected Letters ofFriedrich von Hugel (London, Dent, 1927), p. 266. 190 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/2 allow such experiences to transform and shape our lives. It' is "the slow mountainstep plod" that does transform us. Failure to carry out small acts of love and caring and to integrate in our lives insights we have received, are what can effectively block us. "It is clearly absurd to be pining for some grand revelation of God's will while we are refusing to attend to this or that small beginning of a revelation that is already unmistakably before us. It may only be 'something telling us' as we say, that I am not using my money as I thought--not holding it in steward-ship. It may be a recurrent doubt about the strict honesty of some habitual practice. It may be an uncomfortable feeling about a certain indulgence I have been allowing myself.''8 We can learn to celebrate and savor small acts of devotion and to do them with joy. Unwillingness to Be a Beginner Another obstacle may be the unwillingness to be a beginner in prayer and meditation. We need to be perfectly content to be a beginner, to experience ourselves as one who has little or no capacity to pray and has a desperate need to learn the bare rudiments. This may be in spite of long involvement in the Church, and in spite of highly developed capacities and talents in other areas. Those who think they know from the beginning will never in fact come to know anything. In a way we will never be anythng else but beginners all of our life. Our ego consciousness is always a beginner in relation to God because itis not out of its ways of relating to life that we know God. o Failure to Trust Our Inner Longing for God Learning to pray depends on an inner knowledge that it is worthwhile. Otherwise our attempts to pray will be experienced as too laborious and dif-ficult. The inner knowledge of our need to pray may be within us, but we are listening to other voices, particularly the voices of a secular culture. Clamor-ing voices within and without drown out our desire to know God and we organize our lives around the other demands. By comparison to the seeming importance of the other demands our desire to pray seems too tenuous, un-proven- simply not worth it. So we need to learn to trust and live out of our deepest inner desire. Sometimes to avoid trusting experiences of the heart, we demand a rational, causal explanation by some authority in society. This serves to make the claim of these experiences more manageable, in our control. But Pascal wrote that the heart may have reasons that the mind knows not of. A rational explanation serves to deny the uniqueness of our spiritual life and allows us to shed that uniqueness along with our particular personal history, our gifts and our responsibilities. Complete rational knowledge is possible only of things, John Baillie, The Idea of Revelation in Recent Thought (New York, Columbia University Press, 1956). When You Can't Pray / 191 not persons.9 We must allow ourselves the fact of not totally understanding our experiences and to live and love and affirm life in the midst of our not-understanding. We are called to fall in love with life, not just to try to under-stand it. Brother Roger, founder of the Taize community, speaks to the problem of our demand to understand. He writes "A set, juridical mentality was a feature of ancient Rome, and it was handed down to all of Western Christianity. It left us ill-prepared for contemplation, the culmination of the inner life. In contrast, Eastern Christianity is still today rich in lives centered on just this reality. When the mind is less concerned with defining how we know God and what we know of him, there is more room available in which to adore him.'''° A friend once described in careful and loving detail the experiences and events of a week-long retreat. The week had been profoundly important to him and included a number of unexpected, new experiences. It involved feel-ing called and directed to seek out specific individuals particularly needing love and attention. After the retreat he said he spent two years trying to ex-plain or discredit the experiences and to find descriptions of comparable events in the Bible or elsewhere in religious literature. "Experiences had to be manageable and understandable." But finally by telling the story of the retreat, sparing no detail, he was letting the experie.nces speak for themselves, not finally understood but accepted and celebrated for their life-transforming quality. He came to trust his own inner knowledge of the peculiar importance of the retreat experiences. It is common for people to have a'sense of restlessness and an awareness from past experiences of God or from knowledge of scripture, that their pres-ent way of living narrows life unhecessarily. The ego must give consent to this inner knowledge if the soul is to grow and bloom by God's grace. Conclusion A number of the Obstacles to prayer circle around our proclivity to see our-selves as a static, firmly established, already, attained ego-self that needs only to be perfected. Facing a number of the, obstacles just described involves recognizing, as Thomas Merton writes," that we are a "nothing," a "possibility'i in which the gift of creative freedom can realize itself by its response to the free gift of love and grace. We are invited to accept our "potentiality," Merton continues, as a gift and a commission, as a trust to be used--as a "talent" in the language of the parables. It is through prayer and the profound transformation of personality that it involves that our "possibility" may become a living reality. " Erich Fromm, "Man ls Not a Thing," Saturday Review of Literature, March 16, 1957, p. 10. ,o Br. Roger Schutz, Living Today for God (Mowbrays, Oxford, England), "Life in Ourselves," p. 18. " Thomas Merton, "The Spiritual Father in the Desert Tradition," Cistercian Studies Ill, 4, 1968, pp. 13, 14. Suffering with the Humble Christ in Religious Life Martin R. Tripole, S.J. Father Tripole is Assistant Professor of Theology at St. Joseph's University, and iives in the Jesuit Community there, City Ave. at 54th St.; Philadelphia, PA,19131. Is there a place for suffering in religious life? Are people who vow themselves to poverty, chastity, and obedience really supposed to suffer as part of their religious commitment.? Before that question can be answered, it would first be necessary to investi-gate the place for suffering in Christian living as a whole; for religious life is a specification within the larger context. Suffering in Christian Living There was a time when it was commonly thought that Christians were sup-posed to suffer. One recalls the stereotyped remark supposedly made to the poor and underprivileged during the Industrial and post-Industrial Era: God wants you to be poor, he meets you in your suffering; accept your lot as an expression of love and place your sights on the kingdom of heaven. We all know Marx for his assessmefit of religion as the drug that pacifies the lot of the miserable. '~ In pre-Vatican II days, much of this kind Of thinking seemed still to be around. We were supposed to suffer because Jesus suffered; we were supposed to have it hard because Jesus had it hard. Aptly associated with that theology of suffering was the "work ethic" that made hard work a value just because it was hard. If we suffered from working hard, that was good because a good American was supposed to suffer from working hard. The post-Vatican II era seemed different--most notably among the 192 Suffering With the Humble Christ / 193 young. I can still recall fellow Jesuit scholastics in the late '60's discerning what we considered to be a new awareness of the implications of Jesus' resur-rection: had he not been raised from the dead, and should we not therefore share in his glory and the joy of his resurrection? The Church had dwelt too long on the suffering of Christ, we concluded. The emphasis should rather be placed on the resurrected Christ'. We had been redeemed, had we not? Why, then, should we dwell upon. suffering? It was time to show forth the new redemptive life won for us by the risen Christ. Along with this type of thinking went what seemed to be its logical conse-quence: the cult of the individual, the affirmation of the"I." It was Iwho had been redeemed. Jesus died so that I might be free and find fulfillment in my life. Things were of value insofar as they brought me personal fulfillment; they were a disvalue if they cramped my style. The concept of obedience needed to be changed: to be obedient now meant, first of all, to be true to myself and to my natural drive for fulfillment. That meant I had a primary obligation to realize my human potential. To deny myself was to frustrate my personal, human growth and to that extent was actually sinful. Superiors could no longer deny my basic human rights without violating the natural law. Since to destroy oneself is never permissible, so was it deemed unacceptable for a superior ever to ask me to go against my need to be fulfilled. Obedience, therefore, had to mean primarily obedience to myself and my natural drive for personal fulfillment, and only secondarily response to the wishes of anotherwand this only when his wishes were compatible with my goals. Since the resurrection of Christ meant birth to a new life, a life of personal fulfillment in God, God was now to be found in my drive to be fulfilled. Under these circumstances, suffering becomes an evil because it thwarts that drive. It is therefore not .'.6.nly to be avoided, but also to be u~rooted from life. Thus, to inflict suffering or to ask someone to do something that caused suf-fering became a basically unchristian act. The role of su.'ffering had been suitably removed from Christian piety. It had been replaced by the right to fulfillment in life. Such was a common theology not a few, years ago. The fact is, however, that the whole matter of the relationship of suffering to Christian living and the place of suffering in religious life must be reexamined and more carefully analyzed. Because I am a Jesuit, and my experience and training allow me to speak of religious life only as a Jesuit, I shall confin~ my examination of the .character of religious living to a discussio~ of the spirituality of St. Ignatius. However, since the basic principles of religious living seem common to most forms of religious life, and sinc+ Ignatian spirituality has had wide influence in religious thought beyond the lives of Jesuits, such an approach will be of in-terest to many religious today. I shall, therefore, first briefly examine the more fundamental question of the nature of Christian living in general, and then see religious life as understood by St. Ignatius as a specification within that larger area. 194 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/2 Role of Suffering in Jesus' Teaching We can posit the existence of at least two levels of pr?clamation in the New Testament: that of Jesus and that of the first generation of Christians. Though' exegetes tell us there is never a time when the message of Christ is not filtered to us through the eyes of the early Church, this does not rule out the possibility of discerning the original proclamation of Jesus. Indeed, a fuller study of the whole matter reveals the early Church always understood its func-tion to develop, at the same time as it remained faithful to the original procla-mation of the message of Jesus. The Church also related the message of Jesus to its own problems and needs, much as the Church continues to do today. The upshot of all this is that we are able to discern a theology of suffering in the Scriptures that is not only expanded upon by the early Church but is actually based on the teaching of Jesus himself. One of the clearest places where Jesus' theology of suffering is presented is in his three predictions of his passion and death found in each of the Synop-tics. There Jesus makes it clear that his role as messiah, in contradistinction to what the Jews had expected, was to suffer and die and rise from the dead. Jesus tells his disciples he has to suffer (Mk 8:31). The character of this suffer-ing is carefully delineated: it involves not only sheer physical (Mk 10:34), but also psychological suffering (Mk 8:31; see 14:34-36); moreover, it is manifested in a special way in his confrontation with leading spokesmen of his community, "the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes" (Mk 8:31) over the law of God, God's will for his people, the dispensation of his revelation to mankind, the road to salvation, the character of true discipleship of the Lord. In the long run, the more significant form of suffering in Christ's life was not simply endurance of physical paine but of political and theological oppositiofl to the revelation of God's will. The attacks of the Jewish leaders were not only attempts to thwart God's will, but also to stymie the freedom which would find its highest form in man's acceptance of Jesus' good news. Ultimately, therefore, it was in the area of the freedom of God's will toward man and the freedom of man to respond to God that the Jews were at odds with Jesus. His pain was that the Jewish leaders were not open to being free, but actually preferred to be enslaved--to themselves, to their own limited standards and values, to their desires to dominate and control their li~,es and the lives of the other members of the Jewish community. The teaching of the Beatitudes, a highpoint in Jesus' proclamation delineating the kind of lives his disciples will lead and the experiences they will undergo as his disciples, encapsulates the heart of Jesus' teaching on suffer-ing. There he states that the dis.ciple will surely suffer for dedicating himself to the principles for which Jesus stands (Mt 5:10). Most important for our later discussion is the fact that Jesus indicates that hisdisciples should be happy when being insulted and persecuted for following him (v. 11), forit is then that God takes his place at the side of the disciple (v. 9) and fhe disciple finds his place in God's kingdom (v. 10). Here again, Jesus makes it clear that anyone Suffering With the Humble Christ / 195 who makes the commitment to him and his teaching will find himself in oppo-sition to the world and its standards. In Jesus' disciples, the historical reenact-men~ of the suffering and death of Christ must take place before they can share in God's glory (vv. 9, 12). Suffering as Seen in the Early Church Paul's conception of a theology of suffering is rooted in that of Jesus. It is because Jesus suffered and died that Christians, as imitators of Christ, must also suffer and die. The Christian chooses to suffer with Christ so as to be attached and closely identified with Jesus. The basis for this is love for Jesus as the Son of God and Lord, but closely identified with this basis is the fact that Jesus suffered and died so that we might be free from the power of siffand death. Thus, the soteriological is never separated from the ontological for Paul. The importance of suffering with Christ also follows from the fact that only then can we share in his resurrection--not only after biological death, but even during our lives within history. For Paul, it is necessary to enter into the historical process contained within Jesus' own life, death, and resurrection: to suffer and die for the sake of others, so that they might have life. This translates into a life of service of others, even to the point of renouncing one's life totally for the sake of others. The concrete social and political implications of this insight were obvious to Paul: life is one of service through the ministry of spreading the good news, promoting reconciliation between man and God, opposing correctives or compromises to God's teaching, and responding to the temporal needs of others, such as caring for thee poor. One who proclaimed and lived by the teaching of Christ must expect, according to Paul, to come into conflict with worldly structures and be persecuted by them (2 Tm 3:12). It is by enduring in the midst of that conflict that one wins the right to inherit eternal glory (2 Co 4:17). To follow Christ means to have renounced the world and all that it stands for in opposition to Christ's teachings (Ga 5:24). That opposition means "constantly" to be "delivered to death for Jesus' sake, so that the life of Jesus may be revealed in our mortal flesh" (2 Co 4:11). Paul delivered himself to that death and life with joy (Col 1:24). It is in the context of his ministry of the gospel that Paul occasionally tells us of the physical, psychological and social forms of suffering he had to undergo: We are fools on Christ's account. Ah, but in Christ you are wise: We are the weak ones, you the strong! They honor you, while they sneer at us: Up to this very hour we go hungry and thirsty, poorly clad, roughly treated, wandering about homeless. We work hard at manual labor. When we are insulted we respond with a blessing. Persecution comes our way; we bear it patiently. We are slandered, and we try conciliation. We have become the world's refuse, the scum of all; that is the present state of affairs (l Co 4:10-13). On the contrary, in all that we do we strive to present ourselves as ministers of God, acting with patient endurance amid trials, difficulties, distresses, beatings, ira- 196 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/2 prisonments, and riots; as men familiar with hard work, sleepless nights, and fastings; conducting themselves with innocence, knowledge, and patience, in the Holy Spirit, in sincere love; as men with the message of truth and the power of God; wielding the weapons of righteousness with the right hand and left, whether honored or dishonored, spoken of well or ill. We are called imposters, yet we are truthful; nobodies who in fact are well-known; dead; sorrowful, though we are always rejoicing; poor, yet we enrich many. We seem to have nothing, yet every/thing is ours (2 Co 6:4-10). The writings of Peter and John also emphasize the importance of our suf-fering. with Christ. For Peter, suffering with Christ is cause for rejoicing. We are "happy" to be "insulted for the sake of Christ, for then God's Spirit in its glory has come to rest" on us (1 P 4:13-14). For John, Christian living in-volves the willingness to "lay down our lives for our brothers" in imitation of Christ who "laid down his life for us" (1 Jn 3:16). One who is a follower of Christ will experience his discipleship in his confrontation with the values of the world. He will "suffer in the world" (Jn 16:33) and be hated and rejected by the world (15:18-19), but he will find "courage" in that Christ has "over-come the world" (16:33). Suffering in the Spirituality of St. Ignatius The spirituality of St. Ignatius is remarkably biblical. Central to his thought is a theology of.suffering rooted in that of Jesus and the spirituality of the early Church, especially that of St. Paul. According to Ignatius, there was only one purpose in life: to dispose oneself completely to the praise and service of God: "Man is created to praise, reverence, and serve God our Lord, and by this means to save his soul.'" What that immediately implied for Ignatius was the uproi~ting and outlawing from one's life of any affection which would interfere with that praise and ser-vice. To be so disposed means applying to oneself what is commonly known as Ignatius' principle of indifference, whereby one prefers nothing in life except insofar as it contributes to the theocentric orientation of one's total being. Consequently as far as we are concerned, we should not prefer health to sickness, riches to poverty, honor to dishonor, a long life to a short life. [but only] what is more conducive to the end for which we were created (SE 23). That indifference in the service of God our Lord becomes more concretely defined by the beginning of the Second Week of the Exercises as acceding to the call of Christ to serve the Father in the establishment of his kingdom: "It is my will to conquer the whole world and all my enemies, and then to enter into the glory of my Father" (SE 95). Since the exercitant has by now uprooted any affection that would interfere with the proper disposition of his life, he is able to perceive the value of this goal, and is ready to respond. The response is the acceptance of t~e call to serve. But how precisely is the ' First Principle and Foundation in The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius, tr. Louis J. Puhl, S.J. (Westminster, MD: Newman, 1951), n. 23. Hereafter SE and paragraph number. Suffering With the Humble Christ / 197 exercitant to serve? Ignatius provides no preconceived or metaphysical prin-ciples to determine the modus agendi. The sole norm is the imitation of Christ by sharing in the root experiences undergone by Christ in his public ministry. Imitation of Christ thus meanS, as it did for St. Paul, an identification with the person of Christ in his sufferings and death, so as eventually to share in his glory. The identification is never really with the glorified Christ except as the one who attains his glory through suffering. Christ tells the exercitant that "whoever wishes to join me in this enterprise must be willing to labor with me, that by following me in suffering, he may follow me in glory" (SE 95; italics added). The precise character of that suffering is two-fold: negatively, it means overcoming "sensuality and carnal and worldly love" in one's affective life; positively, it means "'bearing all wrongs and all abuses'and all poverty, both actual andspiritual"--provided there is no jeopardy to one's spirit of in-difference, i.e., only if the "Eternal Lord" desires this because it will con-tribute to his "greater service and praise" (SE 98). Ignatius is relentless in his attempts to drive home the idea that once the individual has become indifferent, service of Christ, though it remains the rubric under which all action is undertaken for the praise and glory of God~ at-tains its special character in the identification with Christ in suffering the blows of the human condition. With Christ as his standard-bearer, the exerci-tant is sent on a mission "throughout the whole world to spread His sacred doctrine." But this is made possible only by desiring "insults and contempt" (SE. 146) and by "bearing insults and wrongs" because one is thereby able to "imitate him [Christ] better" (SE 147). Indifference, once it becomes perfect, no longer means to be absolutely indifferent, but rather to be one with the suf-fering Christ. The highest class of men, according to Ignatius, "seek only to will and not will as God our Lord inspires them" (SE 155). They are urged to accept the highest form of spirituality, which for Ignatius means the "third kind of humility,." the humility which is most distinctive of his spirituality and gives it its noblest quality: This is the most perfect kind of humility. It consists in this. If we suppose the first and second kind attained, then whenever the praise and glory of God would be equally served, I desire and choose poverty with Christ poor, rather than riches, in order to im-itate and be in reality more like Christ our Lord; I choose 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 (SE 167; italics added). The exercitant is instructed to beg our Lord to deign to choose him for this third kind of humility, which is higher and better, that he may the more imitate andserve him, provided equal praise and service be given to the Divine Majesty (SE 168; italics added). Not all exercitants would be expected to be able to cope with this third kind of humility, and so it is up to the retreat director to discern how far to go with the retreatant. But the Jesuit novice was normally to undergo a thirty-day 198 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/2 experience of the Spiritual Exercises with this third kind of humility as the in-tended summit of his new spiritual life. Ideally he is to accept this humility as his own, though if he be not yet able to do so, it becomes at least the end-goal and guiding principle of his life as a Jesuit. Obstacles to this goal are to be fought and overcome, it being pointedly noted that the exercitant's progress in the spiritual life will be in direct "proportion to his surrender of self-love and of his own will and interests" (SE 189). These same principles recur in the General Examen and its Declarations regarding standards for admission to the Society of Jesus. When the candidate embarks on religious life as a Jesuit, he is 1~o acquire a "deliberate determina-tion to live and die in the Lord with and in this Society of Jesus," and is to be "determined to abandon the world and to follow the counsels,of Christ our Lord.''2 This means to abandon "whatever he had in the world" dear to him out of "merely natural affection," and to replace it with a life based a new principle: "He who does not hate his father and mother and even his own life, cannot be my disciple" (Lk 14:26). Consequently, he is to live "as one who is dead to the world and to self-love/arkd who lives only for~ Christ our Lord" (GE 61). One of his probationary experiences is to be involved in "tests of humility and abnegation of oneself through the performance of lowly and humble tasks, such as working in the kitchen, cleaning the house, and all the rest of these services." (GE 83). Another is that he should go begging from door .to door for three days so that, "contrary to common human opinion, they [scholastics] may be able in God's service and praise to humiliate themselves more and more and make greater spiritual progress, giving glory to his Divine Majesty" (GE 82). The candidate must also be "willing to have all his errors and defects.r~anifested to his superiors." (GE 63). Ignatius urges the scholastic constantly to accept exercises for obtaining humility: toward the cook (GE 85), subordinate officials (GE 87), spiritual superiors as well as physicians and infirmarians (GE 89), in the performance of penances for his "errors and negligences" (GE 90, 98), in the complete manifestation of his conscience to the superior (GE 93). In a section of the General Examen where he approaches most completely the lofty ideals contained in this third kind of humility and a th'eology of suf-fering strongly reminiscent of that of Jesus and of St. Paul, Ignatius insists that it be made clear to the candidate for the Society of Jesus that he strive "to abhor in its totality and not in part whatever the world loves and embraces, and to accept and desire with all possible energy whatever Christ our Lord has loved and embraced." This desire to be one with Christ is to lead candidates to the desire to "clothe themselves with the same clothing and uniform of their Lord." This means that if it would better serve God, and not be an occasion of 2 "The General Examen and Its Declarations" (50-51), in St. Ignatius of Loyola, The Constitu-tions of the Society of Jesus, tr. with commentary by George E. Ganss, S.J. (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1970). Hereafter GE and paragraph number. Suffering With the Humble Christ / 199 sin to anyone, "they would wish to suffer injuries, false accusations, affronts, and to be held and esteemed as fools. -3 Here above all they come to "resem-ble and imitate" Christ and "follow him" as "the way which leads men to life" (GE 101). Should the candidate be naturally repelled by such thoughts, Ignatius urges that he be questioned as to whether or not he is determined and ready to accept and suffer with patience., any such injuries, mockeries, and affronts entailed by the wearing of this uniform of Christ our Lord, and any other affronts offered him, whether by someone inside the house or the Society (where he desires to obey, be humiliated, and gain eternal life) or outside it by any persons what-soever on earth, while returning them not evil for evil but good for evil (GE 102; italics added): Ignatius again argues that this kind of humility will be better attained if the examinee should "seek in our Lord his greater abnegation and continual mortification in all things possible" (GE 103). According to Joseph de Guibert, S.J., these, last citations contain the "characteristic stamp of Ignatius' personality," the "true key to the conduct" of Ignatius toward his followers, and the "interior meaning of all that follows in the Constitutions" of the Society of Jesus." Moreover, these passages bring 'to focus one of the central features of Ignatius' spirituality: his emphasis upon "the poverty and humiliations of the Savior" (deG 136). T.hese passages rein-force the core elements of Ignatius' SpiritualExercises where, according to de Guibert, one finds the "counterpart" of the same kind of emphasis upon "abnegations" which Ignatius fostered "in the training of his followers" because of his "profound conviction that in this abnegation is found the decisive point, the central position which is to be held absolutely in the field of battle for souls and for conquering the summits of sanctity" (deG 137). Suffering in Religious Life Today Religious life, at least as understood by Ignatius, is therefore steeped in a theology of suffering in the pursuit of humility, based, not on any speculative principles that would justify this pursuit (few, indeed, can be found), but on the "principle of union and companionship with the suffering Christ. The union is achieved most of all, according to Ignatius, by imitating Christ in ac-cepting humiliations so as to become one with Christ in his humility. The beloved wishes to be as closely as possible identified with the lover. Since Jesus js he who suffered out of love for us, we wish to return that love by suffering with him out of love for him. As we have seen, theological if not mystical j'ustification for this spirituality can be found in the Gospel as well as in Paul's J See Mt 5:11; 1 Co 4:1~-13 and 2 Co 6:4-10, cited above. ¯ Joseph de Guibert, S.J., The Jesuits: Their Spiritual Doctrine and Practice, tr. William J. Young, S.J. (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1972), p. 142. Hereafter deG and page numbers. 200 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/2 insight thai it is only if we share in Christ's suffering that we shall share in his resurrection. It seems to me, therefore, that if we would retain the true spirit of religious life as this is given expression under the inspiration of Ignatius and others like him, and reinforce the basic insights of the scriptures, we must revitalize our Christian perspective on suffering with the humiliated and humble Chrisi in our contemporary experience of religious life. Permit me to reminisce a bit. As I recall, the above theology of suffering was very strongly advocated when I was in the novitiate (1958-1960), but with some shortcomings in its exercise. A constant danger in religious life is that we preach one theology and practice another. I was able to discern, even as a novice, the gap between our theology and practice. Our theology of suffering encouraged, as the high point of Jesuit living, that we find meaning and hap-piness in sharing in the insults and humiliations of Christ; yet whenever we received these humiliations, we took offense. Early on, the novice begins to conclude'that this gap is acceptable as built into religious life, that the theology of suffering is meantto be a rhetorical, formalistic kind of spirituali-ty, accepted as an ideology not actually to be implemented. A community that thinks and lives this way is bound to have a profound effect upon the developing religious life of the individual, for, to some extent, the individual is always necessarily a reflection of his environment. If the indi-vidual religious dwells in an environment which lives by the theology of suffer-ing with the humble Christ, the individual is induced to find meaning in that theology also; if the environment does not implement this theology of suffer-ing, it is extremely difficult, even for the most well-intentioned individual, to make that theology an integral part of his religious life. Or again: if every religious takes to heart Ignatius' words to accept !nsults and humiliations as the call of Christ to share in his program of spiritual renewal; the individual religious, when these are cast at him (as they surely will be), sees Christ calling him in them, and is able to rise above a natural human response to them, and adopt a truly Christ-centered form of spirituality in relation to them. But when the general form of response is to feel vilified whenever one's personal worth or honor has been attacked, the power of any one individual truly to im-itate the humble Christ is extremely limited. The end result is that religious life seriously runs the risk of self-deception and/or hypocrisy. The grace of voca-tion that comes to the individual through the community will simply not be, there, and we are left to mouth empty words of piety. So often it occurs in religious life that we inadvertently offend others. We unintentionally fail to give our fellow religious the attention they deserve. How often we find that they have taken offense and respond in a coarse and unfriendly way. What does it all mean? Where does this fit into a theology of suffering with the humble Christ? How can this reflect the application of Ignatius' spirituality of identification with Christ? So often it seems that the application is beyond our capacity. And yet that would not so often be the Suffering With the Humble Christ / 201 case if we worked at this matter together with dedication and with the awareness that it is only in this way that we justify our existence as members of a Jesuit religious community. ' One of the best ways of correcting this spirituality-practice gap would be achieved by making a decisive effort to return to Ignatius' theology of suffer-ing with the humble Christ and to the inculcation of his teachings in early Jesuit living. One wonders, however, if this is feasible today when so much emphasis is placed upon the importance of other goals. Are we not in danger of emphasizing praxis when we have not yet instilled theoria? Can, for instance, a life of social apostolic activity seriously be imbued with the prin-ciples of Ignatius when so much of the novice's life is devoted to social action? I do not mean to undercut the importance of social action, nor am I unaware of the fact that Ignatius wished the novice to be tested by experience in apostolic activity. But St. Paul recognized the fact that apostolic activity, unless it be imbued with the spirit of the humble Christ, is of little conse-quence. And Ignatius just as surely recognized that.primacy must be given to exposing and educating the novices to the spirit of the humble Christ, instilling in them the desire to follow that spirit in their lives, if their apostolic action is to be anything more than pious humanism. In the long run, is it not really more important that the novice, in his two years in the novitiate, be imbued with the spirit of suffering with the suffering and resurrected Christ? For if he does not capture there the spirit and the importance it has in renovating his life as a Christian and as a religious, he is in danger of never discerning its meaning or importance later. He risks joining the ranks of ambitious, over-zealous and secular-minded religious, whose spirit is widespread in religious life today and who have never realized that grandeur is attained in Christianity through suf-fering with and for the humble Christ. Let me not be misunderstood. The theology of suffering with the humble and humiliated Christ has nothing in common with laissez-faire social think-ing. Neither is it simplistically identifiable with pacifism, or with passive acquiescence in all things as coming from above as pronouncements of the will of God. Evil is to be opposed, and this especially when it involves injustice, insensitivity, immoral decision-making that obfuscates the will of God or denigrates the dignity of the human person. One need only read Jesus' savage attack on the Pharisees in Mk 7 to see that this is so. Theology of suffering with the humble Christ recognizes in the conflicts of Christ a suffering for God and man so that the word of God not be defecated, so that the human per-son not be destroyed. The theology of suffering with the humble Christ cepts the theology of the Sermon on the Mount, a suffering "for holiness' sake," of being "persecuted" for one's convictions, of refusing to accom-modate the message of Christ to worldly standards and values wherever they are manifested. But a response of loving acceptance of personal hurt, of defeat is the response of the theology of suffering with the humble Christ. This is in imita- 202 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/2 tion of Christ who remained silent in the face ~of his own persecution by legitima.te but unscrupulous authorities. He humbly accepted the will of God where it clearly manifested itself to him. But if one unjustly treats a fellow human being, opposition must be voiced: the dignity of the human person is being assaulted. Sometimes an insult to my person may fall under the same rubric and should not be tolerated. A prudential judgment is necessary. If only we religious would exemplify to the Church at large the importance of this theology of suffering with the humble Christ, it might catch on as a way of lifeappropriate to Christian living. What a reformation that would make in the world: What a transformation in our society, and what a proclamation of the message of Christ and of the theology of the New Testament, which have made it so clear that it is only insofar as we die with Christ that we have a right to hope in being raised with him. The Cradle Home! Blessed be the Lord God of Israel who had brought them, like their forebears, safely back from Egypt. The door yi.elded to a strong arm, creaked open, sagging on its leather hinges. They entered, the Three, and stood training thei,r eyes to the darkness. A shaft of sunlight, slipping in behind them, picked out a cradle; its smooth wood gleamed golden. In three strides the man reached it, caressed it slowly with a strong brown hand. Quickly, on sturdy little legs, the Child stood beside him, curly dark head sharing the sunlight. Still near the door the Mother, intent, watching. "You never used it, Son." The man's voice held the faintest hint of sorrow. The Child put one dimpled hand on the cradle, the other caught at the man's fingers. Eyes deeper than the starred midnight sky lifted to the earnest face. "it is so smooth, Father," stroking a cross bar. "I saved it for all my poor little brothers and sisters. For me, a rougher wood." Sister Mary Luke, C.S.J. 14505 Madison Avenue Lakewood, Ohio 44107 The Problem Member in Community Desmond O'Donnell, O.M.I. Father O'Donnell, an Australian clinical psychologist, was recently appointed a general councilor in his congregation. His present address is General House OMl; C.P;9061 ; 00100 Roma-Aurelia, Italy. When scaffolding or supportive structures are removed from a build.ing, its fibre is tested and any weaknesses in it become obvious. Wisely or unwisely, many of the structures which surrounde~d religious life have been removed in recent years and we should not be surprised if its fibre is tested and its weaknesses become more obvious. But first let us not underestimate the fact that the building is still standing, even if it is showing the strain. And in some ways religious life as expressed in apostolic community is beginning to show signs of renewal and strengthening as it reaches out in concern for mission in many new ways. However, it is with one of the weaknesses that I am concern-ed in this a~.ticle. In my professional work and in my, everyday experience of men and women in the apostolic communities--especially tho,se in the middle years--I have noticed that there is a growing restlessness, not always due to problems within themselves, but due'to their inability to find reasonable harmony within community. It is not difficult to distinguish between those who are restless anyway both in their apostolic area and in their commufiity, from those who are happy and productive in their work but who ca

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

Issue 18.6 of the Review for Religious, 1959. ; Review Religious Ecclesiastical Formation by The Congregation.of Seminaries A Fuller Sense of Literature by Father Aidan, C.P. ~Examen on Renovation and Adaptation by Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. St. Lawrence of Brindisi by R. F. Smith, S.J. Current Spiritual Writing by Thomas G. O'Callaghan, S.J. Survey of Roman .Documents Views, News, Previews Questions and Answers Book Reviews and Notices Index to Volume 18 321 328 333 346 353 36O 365 367 370 381 Volume 18 November 15, 1959 Number 6 OUR CONTRIBUTORS FATHER AIDAN is stationed at St. Gabriel's College, Blythe Hall, Ormskirk, Lancs., England, JOSEPH F. GALLEN, the editor of our Question and Answer Department, is professor of canon law at Woodstock College, Woodstock, Maryland. R. F. SMITH, editor of the REVIEW, is professor of apologetics at St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas. THOMAS G. O'CALLAGHAN is professor of ascetical and mystical theology at Weston College, Weston 93, Massachusetts. ~, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, Nov., 1959. VOI. 18, No. 6, Published bi-monthly by The Queen's Work, 3115 South Grand Boulevard, St. Louis 18, Missouri. Edited by the Jesuit Fathers of St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ec-clesiastical approval. Second class mail privilege authorized at St. Louis, Mis-souri. Copyright, 1959, by TKe Queen's Work. Subscription price in U. S. A. and Canada: 3 dollars a year; 50 cents a copy. Printed in U. S. A. Editor: R. F. Smith, S.J. Associate Editors: Augustine G. Ellard, S.J.; Gerald Kelly, S.J.; Henry Willmering, S.J. Assistant Editors: John E. Becker, S.J.; Robert F. Weiss, S.J. Departmental Editors: Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; Ehrl A. Weis, S.J.' Please send all renewals, new subscriptions, and business correspondence to: Review for Religious, 3115 South Grand Boulevard, St. Louis 18, Missouri. Please send all manuscripts and editorial correspondence to: Review for Religious, St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas. Ecclesiastical Formation SACRED CONGREGATION OF SEMINARIES AND UNIVERSITIES Prot. N. 541/59 CIRCULAR LETTER ADDRESSED TO BISHOPS ON THE OCCASION OF THE FIRST CENTENARY Of THE DEATH OF THE CURI~ OF ARS CONCERNING CERTAIN PROBLEMS OF ECCLESIASTICAL FORMATION. Your Excellency, Not long ago pilgrims of every race and tongue Were gathered at the grotto of Massabielle to commemorate the centenary of the apparitions of Lourdes. And now, before the echo of these solemn celebrations has died awdy, our minds and hearts turn once more towards France, to a small village of that lalid which was the scene of the apostolic labors of a humble parish priest in whom our Lord saw fit to renew, with copious. 9utpourings .of grace, the portents of His public life. This Sacred Congregation of ~eminaries and Universities does not wish to let this year pass without recalling the attention of future priests to this humble son of the soil. For he, by corres-ponding faithfully with the grace of vocation, became in the hands of God a powerful instrument for the renewal and the deepening of the Christian life in many souls. The life of St. John Mary Vianney has many valuable lessons for the young levite of our own times. In fact, we may say that his message, implemented now by the lustre of his heavenly glory, carries a greater significance than ever before. I. First of all, he shines as an example of fidelity to the inspirations of grace. Once he had come to know the divine will in his regard, he pursued the priestly ideal with a tenacity of purpose that has rarely been equaled. He never allowed himself to be discouraged by the many obstacles which seemed to bar his way towards the goal he so ardently, yet so humbly desired. Rather was he guided always by a most profound appreciation of the greatness of the priesthood. Contemplating that greatness .he would exclaim in ecstasy, "Oh how wonderful is the priest! His greatness will only be seen in heaven. If a priest in this life 321 ECCLESIASTICAL FORMATION Review for Religious were to comprehend his real dignity, he would die -- not of fear but of love." It is this appreciation, this tenacity of purpose, this spirit of dedication which the Church wishes to bring home to the ecclesiastical youth of our time to urge them to cherish the ideal to which the Lord has called them. The present scarcity of voca-tions is a well known fact while the spiritual needs of the faithful are daily on the increase. It is not that the Lord scatters less abundantly the seed of the divine call. Alas! it is the fewness of those who gather it; and even of these, how many put their hand to the plough and then turn back, abandoning the work they have begun. The example of the Cur~ of Ars should urge all who have received a divine vocation to the priesthood to treasure it as a priceless gift. If there is a lack of generosity on their .part, the wiles of the evil one may well rob them of this hidden pearl. To safeguard it, everything should be willingly sacrificed. Clerics, as the very name implies, are the portion of the Lord and have been called by Him to a special destiny. They should, therefore, for their own encouragement and perseverance, be always mindful of the tender goodness and munificent kindness which has singled them out. If "the Apostle, reminding the early Christians of their redemption, could charge these laymen to live as children of light and heedless of the works of the flesh, how much more grave is such an obligation for clerics who are called not merely to share in the grace of Redemption but to follow in the footsteps of the Divine Master as its dispensers and ministers. Let them, therefore, give thought constantly to the gift of God and let them strive to make themsebfes more worthy of the divine choice, making a daffy offering of their youth to the Church for their own salvation and the salvation of their brethren. II. If we look at the figure of the saintly Cur~ of Ars, we will recognize in his shining virtue a supreme model of priestly excellence. He knew that the priesthood had, in some mysterious way, identified him with the one Eternal Priest, the Word incar-nate. It was such knowledge which inspired him to repeat phrases like these: "When you see the priest, think of our Lord Jesus Christ" or "The priesthood is the love of the Heart of Jesus." But even these sentiments, however beautiful and expressive of divine realities, were of secondary importance. For him the essential was to live the priegthood which the Lord exercised through him. Behold him, therefore, the holy Cur~, in the rSle outlined by the Apostle, a mediator for his people, devoted to a life of adoration, 322 November, 1959 ECCLESIASTICAL FORMATION of intercession, of total sacrifice; he too a victim like his Redeemer, ready day and night to implore "with unspeakable groans" the remission of sins, ready always to fill up in his body what is wanting in the Passion of Christ. This closeness to God and perfect conformity to the Eternal Priest inspired in him a deep appreciation of prayer and of the interior life, and were besides the secret of his "extraordinary success. He knew perfectly well that the: efficacy of his work for souls depended above all on prayer and on union with God. Conscious of his rSle as an instrument of divine grace, it was to grace alone that he looked for the success of his ministry. Not without reason, therefore, did the Supreme Pontiff Pius XI name St. John Mary Vianney the special patron of parish priests and those entrusted with the care of souls, wishing thereby to emphasize that the efficacy of all pastoral endeavor is directly dependent on the personal holiness and interior life of the priest. The Sacred Congregation of Seminaries is convinced that in this matter much is left to be done in institutes for clerical train-ing. In view of the attitude of young priests, particularly towards the problems of the ministry, the question arises whether the traditional principles of formation are not being overlooked. In most cases, it is true, there is no lack of zeal for the external works of the ministry; but such zeal, unsupported by prayer and morti-fication, issues only in vanity and disillusionment. The fact is that without the interior life there can be no true apostle. Apart from it the most elaborate and spectacular techniques of organization will achieve little of permanent value. The true apostle, conscious that he is but an instrument in the hands of God, knows that he has other and less fallible means at his disposal. He is aware that a spiritual edifice may be raised only by prayer and the power of grace. His labors will be successful in the measure of his reliance not on himself but on these God-given aids. "Therefore neither he who plants ~or he who waters is anything, but God who gives the increase . For we are God's helpers" (1 Cot 3:7-9). The Supreme Pontiff, Pope Pius XI says clearly: "It would be a very grave and dangerous error should the priest, carried away by a false zeal, become completely immersed in the external works of the ministry to the neglect of his own sanctification . Without piety, the holiest of actions, even the most solemn rites of the sacred ministry will be performed in a mechanical and routine manner, devoid of spirit, of unction and of life" (Ad catholici 323 ECCLESIASTICAL FORMATION Review for Religious sacerdotii [December 20, 1935] in Acta Apostolicae Sedis, 28 [1936], 23-24). Later, Pope Pius XII, in his apostolic exhortation Menti nostrae vigorously reiterated the same teaching. "An ardent spirit of prayer," he says, "is necessary today as never before, when so-called 'naturalism' has taken hold of men's minds and virtue is beset by dangers of every kind -- dangers which, at times, assail even those engaged in the sacred ministry. What more effective means can there be of avoiding these snares, what more apt to raise the mind to higher things and preserve its union with God than constant prayer and invocation of the divine assistance?" (Menti nostrae [September 23, 1950] in Acta Apos-tolicae Sedis, 42 [1950], 673). More recently still, Our Holy Father Pope John XXIII, happily reigning, has insisted on the need for an efficacious pastoral apostolate. In his discourse to the Apostolic Union of the Clergy (March 12, 1959), proposing the holy Cur~ of Ars as an apt model for the members, he addressed to them the following solemn considerations: "How is it that in the ministry so much labour frequently yields but meagre fruit? How is it that priests who seemingly neglect no weapon of the apostolate fail to bring back so many lapsed children of the Church who are dead to the life of grace? Perhaps it is because they are not single-minded in their ministry; perhaps because they do not always seek exclusively the good of souls; perhaps also, they place too much reliance on means that are human and therefore frail without giving due attention to prayer and sacrifice." We must insist therefore that teachers in seminaries, and particularly the rectors and spiritual fathers shall give adequate and timely instruction, especially to students approaching sacred orders, on the true nature of the priesthood, its mission, and the means to be relied on in the apostolate. Furthermore they shall be careful to base this in'struction on the traditional principles that are to be found in revelation and have been authoritatively interpreted by the Fathers and the magisterium of the Church. They shall not permit the introduction of any novelty which could undermine or alter the teaching of the Church in so delicate a matter. These instructions must be regarded as of the highest importance because upon the ideas instilled in them during semi-nary years will depend the future conduct of priests in the ministry. III. The loyalty of St. John Mary Vianney to the Church is well known. He had a most tender love for the Holy Mother 324 November, 1959 ECCLESIASTICAL FORMATION of all the faithful. Whenever he spoke about her his face appeared transfigured and his voice thrilled with emotioh. His love, it is true, embraced all the faithful and was not confined to the narrow circle of Ars -- in fact, people came from all over the world to lay siege to his pulpit and his confessional--but it was especially directed towards the visible head of the Church, the Pope, whom he venerated. It is clear from the process of canonization that he sought out every opportunity to testify his supreme devotion to the Roman Pontiff. He could not conceal his emotion when he spoke about the Mother and Teacher of all the Churches or heard her spoken about. He showed respect, love and obedience to his own Bishop "as to the Lord." And what obedience! Everyone knows that he was bent on withdrawing from the public eye to weep over what he called the emptiness of his life. For he was conscious of his unworthiness and dispirited by his increasing responsibility. But obedience, manifested in the will of his supe-riors, wished him at Ars; and at Ars he remained in a spirit of sub-mission and sacrifice. Those responsible for clerical education have here a matter for serious reflection. The virtue of obedience is absolutely funda-mental in the process of forming sacred ministers. It is necessary to engender in them a habit of obedience which reaches to the very fibre of their being. And this is particularly true in times like ours when the demon of pride bids everyone throw off restraint and indulge in unlimited liberty of thought and action. Such a norm of behaviour, hailed as progress, has crept into educational methods and threatens the very foundations of Catholic teaching on the principles of pedagogy. Cases are sometimes met with even in ecclesiastical colleges -- indeed this Sacred Congregation has had to intervene -- where attempts are made to exploit the methods of "self-education" with too great concession to individual caprice and too little thought for the frailty of human nature. To strive to develop in their charges a sense of responsibility, initiative~ and judgment is indeed the legitimate and necessary work of educators. But what must be deplored is the attitude of teachers who are afraid to command lest they invade the sanctuary of another man's mind and do violence to his personality. Such a teacher abdicates his position as superior and renders the very concept of discipline meaningless. It is a false approach; for it is only by discipline that one achieves a strong personality, endowed with that spirit of sacrifice which is required of all those who would follow in the footsteps of the Lord Jesus Christ. By means of this 325 ECCLESIASTICAL FORMATION Review for Religious discipline alone are formed genuine apostles bent on doing the will of God, as indicated by their superiors, rather than following their own c.apricious inclinations. Let discipline, therefore, joy-ously embraced, be the touchstone by which superiors test the vocation of their students. Let them demand an obedience, not merely theoretical, but effective, single-minded, and complete in all things, great and small, contained in the seminary rule. In requiring this obedience and in putting it before the students, let them recall the supernatural motives which are its justification and its supreme model, Jesus Christ, who had only one purpose on earth: "To do thy will, O God" (Heb 10:7). Let them always remember that obedience primarily involves "obsequium," that. is, a total submission of mind and heart which makes our actions pleasing to God. If superiors can achieve this much they can be assured that their students will also acquire the other virtues proper to a priest, especially those, like chastity, which require manly will-power and perfect self-control. For the members of all pious institutes, therefore, the prin-ciple must hold that the rule is the will of God manifested in their regard and consequently of obligation as a necessary means of their formation. The vigilant presence of a superior must not be regarded as something injurious to personality but rather as a help towards securing that spiritual development which is re- 'quired of a priest and is his glory: "All things are yours; you are Christ's; and Christ is God's" (1 Cor 3:22-23). Addressing our beloved seminarians we would exhort them to keep before their minds the repeated teaching of the Church which compares the clergy to an army, carefully chosen and proper-ly trained, ~in object 6f terror to enemies because of its disciplined might. During the long and arduous period of training let them cultivate a spirit of discipline, sound convictions, and an un-questioning obedience to those placed over them. Thus will they acquire that perfect "thinking with the Church" which will enable them. at a later stage, to fight the battles of the Kingdom of God "prepared to act and to endure bravely for the salvation of all" (Leo XIII, Alacritas ista [January 18, 1885] in Enchiridion Cleri-corurn [Rome: Vatican Polyglot Press, 1938], n. 458). However arduous the preparation for the priesthood may be and however toilsome and full of sacrifice the life of the future priest, the reward for valiant service under the banner of the Lord is very great indeed. St. Augustine, who was called to the apostolate in times as difficult as our own, affirms: "Nothing in 326 November, 1959 ECCLESIASTICAL FORMATION this life and especially at this time is more difficult, laborious, and dangerous than the work of a bishop, priest, or deacon; but God's view nothing is more blessed, provided one conducts one-self in the way our King orders" (Letters 21:1). Your Excellency, much more might be said in pursuance of the example of the holy Cur~ of Ars; relevant to the right formation of candidates for the priesthood and therefore helpful to the better administration of seminaries. We have confined our attention however to those matters which have come to our notice through the reports of apostolic visitators and which seem peculiarly related to the needs of our time. We wish to emphasize the need for a deepening of the sense of responsibili~ty in relation to the grace of vocation, to insist on the primacy of the interior life as an essential condition for the pastoral ministry, and finally to establish the formative value of a discipline which is accepted willingly and conscientiously. In this way, the truly priestly life will be protected and developed and it will be able to meet the needs of the time and adapt itself to the pastoral circumstances of the moment, never forgetting the sources from which its super-natural fecundity and its truly noble character derive. We are convinced that these principles added to the essential requirement of knowledge -- which, let us remember, was not wanting in the case of the Cur~ of Ars, for God enriched him won-derfully with the gifts of His Spirit -- are the solid foundation on which future apostles must raise the structure of their priest-hood. Only with this foundation may they go forth, the able workers of the Lord's vineyard "trained to do all good works" as heralded by St. Paul, and the good shepherds described by St. Peter as "from the heart a pattern to the flock" (2 Tim 3:17; 1 Pet 5:3). While we beg Your Excellency to ensure tha~ the contents of this letter are brought to the notice of your students with what-ever comments you consider opportune, we take the occasion to express to you the sentiments of our profound esteem and remain, Yours devotedly in Our Lord, Given at Rome on the feast of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, June 5th, 1959, JOSEPH Cardinal PIZZARDO, Prefect DINO STAFFA, Secretary. 327 A Fuller Sense of I_iterature Father Aidan, C. P. AMONG THE MANY hardships incident to the student state, the writing of essays was one that could rarely be evaded. Of course, as one realizes -- later -- the correction of these'effusions must have been' an even more Herculean labour. It is only when we face an exercise-book armed with red ink in-stead of blue that we realize that sufferance is the badge of all our tribe. But all the same, we were rather surprised when one long-suffering student once plaintively, complained that we were always giving a religious turn to the development of our thought. "Isn't that a happy fault?" we replied. "Surely you should be pleased that we are so spiritually minded?" and so on ran the ready answers. And I think that, as the unspeakable vernacular has it, we'd got something there; a thought that has often recurred to me when the study of literature is discussed. I think it was Sir Roger de Coverley who preferred his parson rather to deliver the solid sermons of accredited authors than to drone out his own efforts; and while we would not perhaps care to descend to such utter conservatism, we ought not to despise learning aspects of truth, often brilliant and revealing, from the great minds of past ages. "A good book is the precious life-blood of a master spirit," and our own minds cannot fail to be improved by such a blood ~transfusion. Again, it strikes me very forcibly at times when "doing" (horrible word) literature in class that a statement in the texi is a very brilliant facet of a perhaps vaguely realized spiritual truth. One realizes that such and such a remark is capable of application on a plane of thought other than what the author intended. Its significance can be extended to shed a grateful ray of light on some spiritual principle whose full expres-siveness has perhaps been obscured by familiarity or neglect. What the author has said is perfectly true in its context, but it is also more profoundly true in a higher sense. In studying the acknowledged classics of English literature, we are surely not being disloyal to our author if we read with our ear attuned to the deeper harmonies that perhaps underlie the 328 A FULLER SENSE OF LITERATURE chord he strikes. If he has seized and expresse.d some truth for our benefit and we enlarge and enrich that truth on another plane of though't, we do him no disservice; in fact, we remember his phrase with greater gratitude and appreciation. He has l~ointed out the way, and we have followed out his directions with profit. My c]ass--I dare not say my audience--are often politely amused when I mention that such and such a poem, rightly taken, could be used for spiritual reading, and that several class periods could profitably be expended in exploiting its deeper treasures. A poem is a poem is a poem, their looks warn me; the life of a saint is a very different kettle of fish; and never the: twain shall meet. They are good enough to admit, however, when it is pointed out, that there is literally more than meets the eye. Wordsworth, for instance, has written much admirable poetry as well as much abominable verse; "Tintern Abbey" is as good an example of his vein of William the Conqueror as "We are Seven"--that playground of parodists--is of his unfortunate tendency to be merely Silly Billy. Of the joys of nhture he knew in childhood, he writes soberly: That time is past, And all its aching joys are now no more, And all its dizzy raptures. Not for this Faint I, nor mourn nor murmur; other gifts Have followed; for such loss, I would believe, Abundant recompense. This is clear enough certainly. Yet we may need to remind ourselveg that such a Clear-sighted attitude should also be ours in spiritual matters. What if we were mo~e obedient as novices, or more fervent as students? "That time is past." Our present duties are urgent, and we should know how to adapt ourselves to them, without sacrificing one whit of our essential obedience or fervour. With the passing of the years, our charity ought to become less natural, and our obedience more positively vigorous. There should be no sentimental looking back on those early days, no echoing Vaughan: Happy those early days, when I Shined in my Angel-infancy! . How I long to travel back, And tread again that ancient track! for "that time is past." We ought not depreciate the present in desiring again the past. We might as well face the facts: obedience, 329 FATHER AIDAN Review for Religious charity, patience, and the rest in those earlier days, with all their zest and novelty, came easier to us. But we should not "mourn nor murmur" that we have to put forth sterner effort now; still less should we "faint" and, discouraged, relax our exertions. We can surely say that "other gifts have followed," no less real for being less memorable; and, remembering the graces of the Mass and vocation, we should with all our heart believe "fer such loss, abundant recompense." The grace of God, too, has its seasons; to yearn for a perpetual spring is to show bad husbandry. Much Ado About Nothing is one of the most appropriately named plays that Shakespeare ever wrote. Yet amid all the bustle and much ado, there is much of permanent value that we can reflect on. Familiarity~ especially with spiritual things, may breed, if not contempt, at least insensibility. And we who grow accustomed to the daily miracle of the Mass and Holy Communion can learn from the remark of the Friar: What we have, we prize not to the worth Whiles it is ours; ~ut being lacked and lost, Why, then we rack the value; then we find The virtue that possession would not show us Whiles it was ours. Routine can be ruthless, if we allow it to become so; ~ind sheer regularity may prove a mere placebo if we are spiritually run-down. There is a false sense of security against which George Eliot warns us, which "more frequently springs from habit than from conviction," and which consequently persists even after warning signs should have alerted the victim. Our appreciation of God's gifts is a m£tter of conviction, not custom, a conviction which we ,try to make even deeper; to abandon ourselves to mere habit is to run the risk of undervaluing those gifts, even to ultimate ingratitude.: We should try to "find the virtue that possessio.n would not show us" even while we thankfully retain possession. No less than amuse, the elegant irony of Jane Austen can also instruct. Elizabeth Bennet's arch rebuke to Darcy is an example. Darcy admits that he has not the talent of easy conversation with those whom he has never met before, and appears to think that this handsome admission exonerates him completely from any charge of superciliousness. Elizabeth gently points out that her lack Of "masterly manner" in playing the piano is due to her own fault; she has not taken the trouble of practising. Possibly our own shortcomings, especially in the matter of charity, are capable 330 November, 1959 FULLER SENSE OF LITERATURE of similar diagnosis, Perhaps we too do not take the trouble of practising. It is easier to conclude that we have not the talent of a ready, friendly interest in others than to make the effort neces-sary to acquire it. As Jerome K. Jerome well said, "Don't bother yourself about how much nicer people might be; think how nice they are." A search for another's good points can be more profitable .than a murky exhumation of his less taking characteristics. Practice does make perfect, and if we h~ive not attained perfection --and who has?--perhaps the fault lies in our insufficient practice. Again, it seems to me that truths ~cquired in reading can sometimes reinforce by their very humour or poetry some point of. more specifically religious, life; or better still, the life of religious. There are many illuminating remarks scattered about in various places which may give rise to an uneasy searching of conscience, and may even enable ourselves to see ourselves as others see~us. Sheridan was--surely--not thinking of religious obedience when, in The Rivals, he put the following remark into thb mouth of Sir Anthony Absolute. Young Absolute has just affirmed, "I cannot obey you";'and his exasperated parent is led to lament, "You know I am compliance itself--when I am not thwarted; no one more easily led--when I have my own way; but don't put me in a frenzy." (I like that phrase; a religious frenzy is put in quite a novel perspective.) Dickens, I think, holds a mirror up to religious life when the delightful Mrs. Gamp is moved to declare her motto in life. No-one would accuse Dickens of interest in religious, still less of interest in religious poverty; and he has growled in approved Victorian fashion about processions of dirty ragged monks. Nevertheless, Mrs. Gamp's motto does warn us of the danger of too great com-placency in our vow, and indicates--malgrd elle--a practical way in which we can keep it better. "I'm easy pleased," she primly says. "It is but little as I wants; but I must have that little of the best, and to the minute." Indeed, earth has not anything to show more fair than that; but, it is to be hoped, a religious house has. Shakespeare, as might well have been expected, is a fertile source of inspiration. In the matter of chastity, we know, our natural obligation is reinforced by vow; yet, as a modern spiritual author has said, "There is nothing fireproof or asbestos-like about the cassock"--or, for that matter, about the religious habit. Our vow is no vaccine, no injection, to render us immune to attack. 331 FATHER AIDAN And well does Shakespeare understand this when in a powerful metaphor Prospero warns Ferdinand, lately engaged to Miranda: Do not give dalliance Too much the rein: the strongest oaths are straw To the fire i' the blood: be more abstemious, Or else, good night your vow! Finally, there is one very thought-provoking remark--again by Shakespeare--which, by shedding a dramatic light on the great mystery of Redemption, may help us to a richer estimation of its depths. Measure for Measure is often referred to as a gloomy comedy, but it abounds in brilliant lines. Isabella pleads with the inexorable Angelo for her brother's life, only to be told that he is ¯ . . a forfeit of the law And you but waste your words. "Alas!" she replies. "Why, all the souls that were were forfeit once; And He that might the vantage best have took Found out the remedy." Surely even theology would be hard put to it to find a o more succinct reference to the reconhiliation of the outraged Justice of God with the infinite Mercy of the redeeming Christ in His Sacred Passion. Why not a religious turn to our serious and literary reading? And why should not a religious turn to serious and literary reading? 332 Examen on Renovation and Adaptation Joseph F. Gallen, S. J. THE IMPLEMENTATION of renovation and adaptation depends primarily on higher superiors; but they are also the religious whose numerous duties can have impeded or pre-vented the reading, study, and attendance at courses and institutes that are necessary even for an understanding of this subject. The following questions and principles should make such a superior realize whether he or she is sufficiently conversant with the move-ment, These brief questions and principles are at least intended as a sufficiently complete and balanced picture of the nature, men-tality, and purposes of the movement. They should therefore be useful to all religious. The success of renovation and" adaptation depends on the intelligent and willing cooperation of all superiors and subjects. I. General Principles Is my principle rigorously what the founder did and said or also what the founder would now do and say? Do I adapt my institute to the present age as much as the founder did to his own age? Isn't resistance to intelligent and prudent adaptation opposi-tion to the will of the Holy See? Any adaptation should conform to expressed norms of the Holy See; but it is not to be thought that the Holy See will define exactly, impose, or even suggest every necessary or profitable adaptation. A fundamental purpose of renovation and adapta-tion is to quicken the life, energy, and self-initiative of all institutes. Do I understand that the purpose of adaptation is a more ¯ effective use of the means of self-~anctification and of the apos-tolate? Do I realize that everything in the religious life is only a means to its purpose? Am I choosing effective .means? Changing the ineffective? Do I understand that all human institutions ~ are capable of. change? that no human being could foresee all possible circum-stances of all ages? 333 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious Do I realize that any idea decreases in universality of place and age in the degree that it is particular and determined? Do I admit in fact and practice that there are different customs, manners, and demands in different countries, nations, and ages? that all ideas, works, and practices of the past may not be suitable for the present? Am I holding on to any thing that was introduced only be-cause of particular circumstances of the past? Any artificial or affected practice or observance is repugnant to the doctrine and example of Christ. Do I prevent or impede adaptation by the rationalization that it is laxity, self-indulgence, and worldliness? Do I blind myself to the good in adaptation by concentration on its extremists? This is as much lacking in intelligence as it would be to seek the truth of Christianity in religious fanaticism. The greatest enemies of renovation and adaptation are those who hold that its purpose is to eliminate or diminish religious discipline. A regulated life, solidly productive of the virtues dis-tinctive of the religious state, is necessary for complete Christian perfection. Adaptation seeks to retain but to revivify the discipline that is good, to remove the idle and useless, to substitute the better for the less efficacious, and to effect the realization that an oppres-sive, merely annoying, and too minut~ religious discipline is self-destructive. "All counsels by which we are influenced to perfection are reduced .to this: that we be detached from affection for temporal things in order that the soul may more freely tend to God." This maxim of St. Thomas is eternally valid. Renovation does not seek to weaken or destroy but to animate the total dedication by which the religious renounces any earthly affection that could impede the greater love of God. Adaptation cannot and does not deny or enfeeble the complete detachment, mortification, and abnegation demanded by this purpose of the religious life. It strives to find, intensify, and promote the most suitable and efficacious means for this purpose. Renovation is not worldliness but greater sanctity; adaptation is not self-indulgence but more intelligent and appropriate mortification. Am I aware only of the old? suspicious of the new? Do I discourage or prevent talk and discussion on the new by subjects? It is not difficult to discern the blind conservative and the rash innovator. Adaptation is prudent progress. Its purpose is to 334 November, 1959 RENOVATION AND ADAPTATION preserve, protect, and improve the good, to change or remove only what is harmful, obstructive, or useless. There are consecrated immutables in the religious life. Only the religious nihilist attacks these. There are also many mutables, and only the blind conservative or religious zealot elevates these to the order of immutables. You are true to renovation and adaptation when your maxim in all aspects of the religious life is: hold on to the good but always seek the better. Do I discourage and repress new ideas in the general chapter, sessions of the council, in superiors and officials? Do I refuse my subjects publications that contain new ideas? Do my subjects understand that renovation and adaptation are to proceed slowly, by study, discussion, and persuasion, not by agitation? The superiors who do nothing are those most apt to have agitated subjects. Do I, a higher superior, read books, periodicals, and articles on renovation and adaptation? attend gatherings or courses that include this subject? Have I, on the. constant excuse of work, cut myself apart from this movement? I should lead the way, and nothing will be accomplished in fact without me. Am I willing to accept anything ~hat will lead the religious of today to greater sanctity or a more effective, ministry? Am I willing to consider any good idea, no matter what its source? Am I searching for or hiding from new ideas? Has our institute contributed any idea to the movement of renovation and adaptation? Do I favor or accept the new merely because it is new? Do I abandon the old only when I am convinced that it is useless, harm-ful, or that something better can be substituted? Do I readily adapt in hospital work, with difficulty in schools, but with much greater diffi5ulty or not ht all in religious and community,life? Why? Is our institute distinguished by a granite inflexibility or a living elasticity? Since the authoritative beginning of adaptation in 1950, what have we changed in our constitutions, customs, observances and practices, prayers, community life, formation, work, religious habit? Can I say that all of these are in all respects fully adapted to the present age? 335 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review [or Religious Is my attachment to my institute so blindingly intense that I believe it admits of'no greater perfection in spirituality, govern-ment, formation, or external works? Love of my institute is a virtue, but not the love that smothers life and progress. Do I grasp the paradox that my institute will remain the same only if it changes? only if it receives the nourishment of new ideas? that otherwise it deteriorates to feebleness and senility? The only one who cannot progress but in whom all others should progress is God, and He is the God not only of infinite sanctity but also of infinite knowledge and truth. We may object that change is not always progres.s, but we are "certain that doing everything exactly as it was done in the past is not progress. Is my principle in fact that the good is what was done in the past and that the new is a synonym for the dangerous or evil? How would I prove that a good idea is better b~cause it arose in the sixteenth or nineteenth rather than in the twentieth century? It is true that to be modern is not necessarily to be spiritual. It is equally true that traditionalism is not necessarily sanctity. Do I realize that only the aged mentality lives completely in the past? Am I not immature to the degree that I refuse to face the present? Do I talk about adaptation but do nothing? Do I consider adaptation an unwelcome guest and hope to effect its speedy departure by my coldness and ~neglect? Are we cooperative and helpful to other religious institutes? Do I think that renovation and adaptation are only for religious women? Nothing is more blind.ing than our own customary and routine conduct. An efficacious way of learning what I should adapt is to go over everything we do daily, weekly, monthly, and yearly with an intelligent and spiritual religious Of another institute. II. Sanctity of Life How many and to what degree do our local superiors have a spiritual influence on their communities? Am I convinced that the holiness of our institute must always be measured by the extent, intensity, hnd constancy of its prayer an~" self-denial? Is conformity with the holy rule the ultimate norm of our life or is the rule a means to conformity with Christ? 336 November, 1959 RENOVATION AND ADAPTATION Rule, regulation, and regularity are important, but is our spirituality nothing but rule, regulation, and regularity? Have we little consciousness 0f the interior life? of the richness of the fatherhood of God? of the indwelling of the Holy Spirit? of the person of Christ? of the mystical body? of the life of grace? of the doctrine of Christ? of the motherhood of Mary? Am I disturbed at violations of silence, promptness, and regularity in my subjects but never think of their correspondence to grace, interior prayer, or interior virtue? Is the actual purpose of our institute the devout life, not the saintly life? What proportion of the members of my institute have a low idea of the purpose of the religious life? Is the actual tenor' of the spiritual .life of our institute a challenge to generous souls or the canonization, of little souls? Is our spirituality purely negative or positive? Do we always define humility as the lowering of self, never as the enthronement of God? mortification as the denial of self or preference for and love of God and of the things lof God? Do we curb ou2 passions for self-control or to grow into the fulness of Christ? Do we make God or self the center of our spiritual lives? .Do we love God or self-perfection? Are penance and mortification practiced? Are those who can and do fast thought peculiar? Are voluntary works of penance and mortification found in only a very few individuals? Is the atmosphere of my community spiritually inspiring? depressing? debilitating? . Are the influential members of our institute exemplary or mediocre religious? Do I realize that the fertile mother of mediocrity and tepidity in the religious life is bad example and that conspicuous reasons for this fact are that our religious have not been led to a convinced spirituality and have not been trained.to think for themselves? Spiritual direction should evidently have its proper place, but are the majority of those receiving spiritual direction in our institute religious from whom .no' proportionate profit can be expected? Is our library stiflingly sweet with pietistic books? Are the religi.ou~ allowed to choose their own book? Must spiritu.al reading be in common? Do we ever take Sacred Scripture as our spiritual reading? Do we realize that mental prayer is often weak and 337 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious difficult because it is famished for proper and constant spiritual reading? III. Poverty Do I emphasize interior detachment from material things? Do I understand that moral uniformity in material things is necessary for community peace and fraternal charity? Do I give subjects permission because they get the money or the object from externs? Do many of our religious procure material things or the money for them from externs? Am I permitting or tolerating any custom or practice that is clearly opposed to poverty or that excludes its perfection? Do too many of our religious constantly ask for the newest and best? Do our religious understand that luxury is not a necessity but an obstacle to good work? Am I generous with material things to externs but not to our own religious? Do our buildings, the furnishings of our religious houses, and the personal lives of our subjects manifest to lay people the nothingness of material things in themselves? Do I accept modern inventions and improvements in so far as they increase efficiency but reject those that lead only to self-indulgence and luxury? Am I sensitive to the fact that the multiplication and constant increase of material improvements and conveniences tend to produce softness of character? Do I realize that the emphasis on interior mortification must be proportionately intensified? Is our life simple and poor? Do too many of our religious live an unmortified and soft life? Do we work for, attract, love and are loved by the poor and the working class? IV. Chastity Is chastity for too many of our religious merely obligatory celibacy or is it in fact their quickest means for attainment of unworldliness, of love of God, for clear vision of spiritual realities and values, a life of delicate familiarity with God in prayer and of pure love for others in zeal? 338 November, 1959 RENOVATION AND ADAPTATION Do our religious understand that marriage is not sinful or ugly but a good? that they renounce this good for a higher good, the attainment and perfection of the love of God? Are our postulants, novices, and junior professed properly and sufficiently instructed in chastity? V. Obedience and Government My subjects must obey me as manifesting to them the will of God. Is my government so elevated and enlightened as to reflect infinite sanctity, truth, knowledge, and widsom? Do I lead and govern or follow my community? Do I govern according to the lowest level of my community? Renovation is a quickening of the religious life. Have I, the superior, given up all effort to accomplish any-thing? "What's the use?" If I fail, will the community succeed? When I no longer have the vision, energy: or courage to try anything new, it is time to inform higher authorities that I should no longer be a superior. Am I more interested in housekeeping than in the intellectual life or sanctity of my subjects? Are the permissions we prescribe intelligent, reasonable, productive of solid religious virtue? What, how many, and how great are the purely secular norms of conduct that have taken root in my community? Do the ordinances of the general chapter, the exhortations, circular letters, regulations, and general corrections of superiors produce any effect? Do I enforce them? Do I realize that there is a hierarchy of values or does every-thing in the religious life have the same value for me? Could I give an average Catholic layman a readily intelli-gible reason for all our customs, practices, and observances? Are our written and unwritten customs, observances, and practices too numerous? too detailed? too minute? too insistent on everything being done in common? oppressive? Are we retaining customs, observances, and practices that are peculiar? antiquated? formalistic? externalistic? not productive of religious virtues? Is our horarium intelligently adapted to the demands of prayer? work? sufficient preparation for class and study? proper rest? When did we last change the horarium? Do we chart out every moment of the day for our subjects? 339 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious Do I trust only the dlassroom, the chapel, the stove, and the broom? mistrust the r~ligious who is seen with a :book? Are our local superiors mere permissiori distributors? house-keepers? financiers? "public relations experts? principals or deans? Is obedience explained, demanded, ahd practiced-in~ such a way as to hinder or exclude the perfection of other virtues? Do I realize that the independence, autonomy, or rather autocracy of the individual existing in the youth of today demand a more protracted,~ patient, doctrinal, theological~, and: theocentric p~esentation and exercise'in obedience? Are too many of our religious so immature and undependable that the superior has 'to' go around the school, hospital, or institu-tion picking up their forgotten and careless work? In praising the docile, the conformist,"the conventionalist, am I glorifying the mediocre? .' o. Don't I pay an exorbitant price for my efforts to pacify the malcontents and worldly? Am I too fearful or slothful to correct my subjects? Do correct when it is necessary? patiently?, kindly? calmly? with due firmness when it is demanded? Do I correct too often? on minor details only? too frequently in public? too quickly? too impatiently or harshly? . VI. Prayer What proportion of our religious, especially in institutes of men, fail to make the daffy religious e~ercises? What have I done about it? Does our prescribed regime of prayer tend to produce a pious and devout but not a saintly religious? ~ Are we always praying and yetare not prayerful? is bur ~rescribed prayer sufficiently liturgical? Do we under-stand ~hat the liturg:~ does not exclude but presupposes, ~omple-inehts, and is complemented by individual' practices, for ex~imple, the individual ideals of sanctity Of life, correspondence to grace, and: the" individual and private types of prayer and religious exercises, such as meditation, examen, spiritual reading, retreats, and so forth? Have we so many prescribed exercises that there is no oppor-tuni[ y for 'indivi~lual prayer? Do we esteem mental prayer as the most necessary and valu-able prayer for sanctity of life? 340 November, 1959 RENOVATION AND ADAPTATION Is mental prayer in our institute a mere formality? Is our mental prayer a mere abstract study of virtue and ¯ examination of conscience, not a turning to,. a living 'in-and with God? Do I believe that a retreat'or any other special~religious exer-cises are a rest or recreation for my subjects? Are our retreats so encumbered 'with other religious exercises and .perhaps with work that the retreat ceases to be a period of deep recollection and reflection? , Are we suffocated by devotional practices? novenas? non-liturgical vocal prayers? Have we any periods of prayer 'so. long as to be unbearably burdensome? so long that we cannot reasonably hope for anything but a low fractional part of real prayer? .- Are our prescribed' prayers so numerous that. fervent and faithful religious find constant difficulty.in.,compldting them? Has the history of the prayer of our institute been ohe of pure addition? never of reflection as to whether the quality and quantity of our prayer were suitable or the, most suitable" for attaining the purpose of the religious life? VII. Formation Do I assign our best religious to the formation of our own subjects? What proportion 'of our-religious. 'are interested in or have ever done anything about fostering, vocations? Does our formation, discipline, community life, and govern-ment produce a type of religious who will not. attract vocations? Do we refuse in fact to admit that an unsuithble candidate lacks a vocation? Are we 'nursing along unsuitable postulants, novices, and junior professed? Do I realize that a middle-aged problem religious is nearly always a fully grown youthful problem religious? Am I nullifying the purpose of the postulancy and the second year of noviceship by devoting the postulants and second-year novices to the works of the institute? How does this harmonize with the warning of Pius XII to bishops that they should not rush inexperienced priests into the life of full activity? Are the postulants and novices give~ sufficient instruction in the religious life? Is it solidly doctrinal? Are they mere passive listeners? ~ 341 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious Do I fear to give free time to postulants? novices? professed? How much individual and competent guidance and counseling do we have of postulants, novices, junior professed, and the younger professed of perpetual vows? Do I praise the juniorate but hold that it is for others, not for us? Do I say that it is now impossible for us? What arguments have I to show that it will be more possible in the future? Can I reasonably hold that a religious is properly prepared for his work at first profession? Am I fair to the religious in assign-ing him or her to work at such time? Am I fair to his students? What means have I taken to help young religious in their adjustment to the full active life? What have we done about a somewhat longer period of recollection before perpetual profession and a period of renovation? Have young religious ever been properly formed when their elders were left completely uncorrected? Does our formation produce a religious worker who can think for himself? possesses the power of self-initiative? self-decision? efficiency? dependability? responsibility? prudence? courage? perseverance? Do we check the postulant, novice, young or old religious who does his work childishly, inefficiently, carelessly? Are we training docile automatons or subjects equipped to face the inevitable doubts, difficulties, disillusionments, tempta-tions, demands of work, and personality clashes of life? Do we realize that a formation, in so far as it is insincere, unreal, antiquated, formalistic, legalistic, externalistic, leads the factual youth of today to cynicism? Do we form the impolite candidate of today into the polite, selfless, cultured religious? Do we guide our young subjects collectively ~nd individually to a personal esteem, conviction, acceptance, desire, and resolve of holiness of life? Do we yield to the youthful religious of today who in their studies so frequently give their attention and effort only to the interesting, the novel, the striking, .and habitually neglect those that are essential? The youth of today are not to be considered as glowingly virtuous nor as irreparably defective. As is true of any age, they have their characteristic virtues and defects; and their most conspicuous defects are merely the fuller development of those found in the generations immediately before them. 342 November, 1959 RENOVATION AND ADAPTATION Does our education, formation, community life, practices, and government make our subjects at least appear as antiquated and out of touch with the world they are striving to save? Does it make them appear as aloof and. superior or one with the poor, the afflicted, the unfortunate, the sinner? Have we any permanent plan or arrangement for assigning capable religious to higher studies? Do we properly prepare the religious who are sent to the foreign missions? VIII. Work Do we consider work as a distraction or obstacle to personal sanctification and not as another aspect of the same purpose? Is our formation producing intellectual, cultured, .spiritual subjects? .Are our schools turning out intellectual, cul. tured, and profoundly Catholic laymen and laywomen? What is the level of our schools and institutions compared to those of seculars? Have all our new ideas in education, hospital, and institutional work come from secular sources? What new ideas has our institute, have I, contributed? "Am I ashamed of the qualifications of our school and in-stitutional personnel in comparison with that of secular schools and institutions? Is the cultural level of our subjects equal to that of laymen engaged in the same work? Have I reflected that the publicized lack of sufficient Catholic scholarship may not be due entirely to institutions of higher learn-ing but partially or principally to our elementary and secondary schools? What proportion of students overcome a defective ele-mentary education? Wh~t proportion of our subjects are mere teachers or nurses, not religious teachers and nurses? What proportion of our subjects can be classed as spiritual religious, as proficient and dependable workmen? Are our religious so overburdened with work as to exclude a life of prayer? Overwork is to be eliminated, but isn't it true that very many of the individual religious who are overworked are spiritual? Isn't the lack of spirituality to be found also and principally in other causes? 343 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious What prop~ortion of our religious adhere in fact to the heresy of activity, that is, to work to the exclusion of the ordinary means of self-sanctification? What proportion of our religious do. a minimum of work? Which is more harmful, the heresy of activity or the apostasy of idleness? Are many of our religious enfeebled and reduced to a childish life by an excessive use of television and the radio? Why do so many religious become intellectually inactive after completing their' studies? Do I suspect the intellectuals of my institute? Am I confusing ignorance, incompeten.ce, childishness, and lack of culture with simplicity and sanctity? What proportion of our subjects have the habit of reading? of striving constantly to advance in the knowledge'and practic~ of their matter and assignment? Ignorance and lack of progress in any field of endeavor are not virtues. Few classes of men can do such harm as the sincerely ignorant. An unsatisfactory apostolate is not always caused by incom-petence or sloth. Its cause can be and often is lack of spirituality in the apostle. Do we face the needs, problems, and evils of our day in the choice of works? the proportional emphasis on particular works? the education and formation of subjects? Or are we training re-ligious to meet and solve only the problems of past centuries? Have we at=least a satisfactory library in every religious house? Am I ashamed of the libraries or lack of them in any or all of our religious houses? In the assignment of religious, do I give sufficient thought to the full utilization of their individual abilities~ What have we done to lessen the habitual tension of so many religious? Have we changed an unsuitable horarium? diminished overwork? given a weekly holiday? an annual vaca-tion? removed or lessened added burdens from week-ends and such vacation seasons as Christmas and Easter? given private rooms? allowed the religious to study and do their other work in their rooms? lessened monotony? diminished routine? given sufficient rest and recreation? abandoned the insistence on every-thing being done in common? Is there sufficient sleep? a Sensible rising hour? proper food? 344 November, 1959 RENOVATION AND ADAPTATION Would a competent male dietitian give a favorable j~udgment on the diets in all institutes of religious women? Is our norm in undertaking new works the greater nec.ess.ity of the faithful? Is the horizon of. our zeal parochial or universal? Are we undertaking added.works at the expense of the.proper formation of our subjects? Do I. courageously and steadfastly refuse works, even if good in themselves, that would,deprive the religious of sufficient rest and.vacations? .~ : . .Has our institute a foreign mission? IX. The Religious Habit Wliat have we done to simplify the habit to one that continues to express the' consecration to Christ and retains its modesty but is simple, unaffected, inexpensive, hygienic, efficient, suited to the customs and ways of one's own country and nation, adaptable to the changing seasons, easily laundered, that does not imprison the face and head, eliminates starched parts, is of suitable color, not eccentric, not ostentatious? Can w~ reasonably hold that the simplification of the habit is a question that of its very nature is confined to institutes of women? 345 St. Lawrence of Brindisi Ro F. Smith, S. J. BY THE APOSTOLIC letter Celsitudo ex humilitate (Greatness from Humility) of March 19, 1959, Pope John XXIII by virtue of his apostolic power proclaimed St. Lawrence of Brindisi (1559-1619) a doctor of the universal Church. By that act St. Lawrence became the thirtieth saint to be honored with that title, the third Franciscan doctor, and the first of the Order of Friars Minor Capuchin. He also brought to five the number of doctors of the Church who flourished in the latter half of the six-teenth and the early part of the seventeenth centuries, the other four being St. John of the Cross (1542-1591), St. Peter Canisius (1521-1597), St. Robert Bellarmine (1542-1621), and St. Francis of Sales (1567-1622). Childhood, Vocation, Priesthood The future doctor of the Church was born on July 22, 1559, at Brindisi, a town located on the Adriatic coast of the heel of Italy, reputedly founded by the'Greek hero Diomedes on his return from the Trojan war, the southern terminus of the Appian Way, and deathplace of the poet Virgil. The boy's father was William Rossi and his mother Elizabeth Masella Rossi; at baptism the infant was given the name Julius Caesar in honor of Sts. Julianus and Caesarius of Terracina, martyred, according to early martyrologies, in the persecution of Nero. Providence, which was to make the boy one of the most illustrious of the sons of St. Francis, saw to it that he was early brought under Franciscan influence; for at the age of four his education was entrusted to the Conventuals living at Brindisi. In 1573 after the death of his father he ov~ercame his mother's dislike for his desire to be a priest and went to Venice to begin his seminary work in a school whose rector at the time was his uncle, Don Peter Rossi. It was in Venice that the saint first came to have an intimate knowledge and love of the Capuchins; and on February 18, 1575, he received the Capuchin habit at the Verona novitiate of the Venice province, being given the name Lawrence of Brindisi. In 1576 he made his profession in the order and was thereupon sent to the University of Padua to make his studies 346 ~T. LAWRENCE OF BRINDISI in philosophy and theology. The university at that time was the focal point of an atheistic form of Aristotelianism; by reaction the young Capuchin acquired a lifelong distrust of Aristotelianism and was drawn instead to a Platonic way of thinking. The intellectual ability of Lawrence, which had already been noted and fostered by the Conventuals in Brind~si, now had full opportunity to develop itself in the university setting at Padua. His course of studies was brilliantly done; and realizing the in-creased importance of Scripture because of the Protestant defection from the Church, he especially set himself to learn all the languages needed for a mastery of Biblical studies; at the same time the international composition of the student body of the university enabled him to attain a mastery of most of the vernaculars of the European continent. There is in fact good reason for thinking that St. Lawrence was the greatest linguist among the doctors of the Church, for besides mastering Hebrew, Greek, Syriac, and Chaldaic for his Scripture studies, he also had command of Latin, German, Bohemian, French, and Spanish besides his native Italian in several dialects. In 1581 Friar Lawrence was ordained a deacon; such was his ability as preacher of the word of God that he was given the unusual permission to preach publicly; it was the beginning of what was to be the principal.apostolate of his life. He was ordained priest in 1582 and thereupon was commissioned to travel through-out Italy to reinvigorate Christian living;-through his unusual combination of holiness and intelligence, he was able to touch the hearts and minds of his hearers in a way that is remarkable in the history of popular preaching. Doctrinal Synthesis To the end of his life almost forty years later the saint con-tinued his apostolate of preaching. Of his collected works (S. Laurentius a Brundisio, O.F.M.Cap., Opera omnia. 10 volumes in 15 tomes. [Padua: Seminario Vescovile di Padova, 1928-1956]), no fewer than eight volumes are given to his collected sermons. Since the sermons of St. Lawrence are the best source from which a knowledge of his doctrinal synthesis can be made, it will be worthwhile to interrupt the course of the saint's life to give a brief sketch of his doctrine as described in A. Michel's. "Saint Laurent de Brindes docteur de l'Eglise" (L'ami bIu clergY, 69 [1959], 401-06.). 347 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious ¯ " St. Lawrence~ did not conceive of a philosophy with its own method and its own proper aim; for him all speculative thinking is subsumed under theology, of which he distinguishes two types. The first type he dalls mystical theology and.conceives of it as a negative, intellectual proces.s the aim of which is to show what God, Chri.st, the Church, the Blessed Virgin and other supernatural realities are not; this. type of theology must b~ rooted in prayer and it~ s.e.ek~ .to discov.e,r the. spiritua.1 .se.n~.e of the Bible. The second kind of theology is called b~ the saint symbblic theology; it studies the literal sense of.Scripture a~.d a~emP.ts to seek out the secrets of the ph.ysical.u.niverse. ~ Man, according'to St. Lawrence, is composed of sense, reason, and spirit (mens). Spirit receives from God an infused idea of the infinite, while reason, "using sensible creatures, is capable of arriv-ing ;at a .knowledge of .God who is pure being viewed under the 6spect ,of the good. This God of goodness has created the world out:of pure love. To all creatures God gives a general assistanc~ which permits each being to act according to its nature. From this it will be seen that St. Lawrence entered hardly at all into the Bafiez-Molina. controversy which was at. !ts height from the years 1590 to~1604. St. Lawrence's views on the state of the first man' and woman are not-without interest. The state ~oforiginal justice in which they w~re" created was constituted: by a 'gift distinct from sanc-tifying grace;, this gift of original justice is characterized by the saint as'a perfect tranquillity and friendship of. sense and reason. In accordar~ce With this view, St. Lawrence conceives of original sin as the loss of this gift of original justice; which loss necessarily entailed a further loss of sanctifying grace. After sin man is justi-fied by the rectitude of t~e soul when elevated by grace to the supernatu.ral, orde.r. God is the p~incipal efficient, cause of this justification; the Holy Spirit and His gift.s are the intrinsic formal cause; Christ, as exemplary cause, is the extrinsic formal cause of Justifica~!on; while the. humanity of, Christ and the sacraments are the instru.mental cause of justific.a~ion. Christ is presentetl in the theology of St. Lawrence as. the. king of angels and. of men. The salvation 6f the angels revolved around Christ, for. they were assured of eternal life only if they consented to adore Christ. Christ is the cause of all sanctification not only in the sense that He is its exemplary cause but alsd be-cause all graces given to angels and to men are given through the 348 November, 1959 ST. LAWRENCE OF BRINDISI instrumental causality of the humanity of Christ. After Christ the Blessed Virgin occupies the first place among all creatures. She is decisive even in the ca~e of the angels for at the time when the Incarnate Word was presented to themfor their adoration, Mary was also presented for their veneration. Because of her divine maternity the Blessed Virgin was conceived immaculately and given an initial fullness of grace that surpassed the final beauty of all the saints taken together. The motherhood of the. Blessed Virgin extends to all men, for all graces come to men through the prayers she addresses to God. The graces of Mary reach their final glory by the crowning gift of the Assumption whereby she now lives, body and soul, in heaven. Mission to the Jews . The success of St. Lawrence's first Commission .to preach throughout Italy came to the notice of Pope Gregory XIII; in 1584 he appointed the saint to .be apostolic preacher to the Jews of Rome and of Italy. Such was his zeal, his l~nowledge of the. Old Testament, and his manifest affection for the Jews that he was able, as he himself reported, to convert many-of theme All his life he retained h~s interest and zeal for the Jewish I~eople and whenever it was possible would seize the opportunityto preach Christ t~ the descendants of the people who had once rejected Him. This interest of St. Lawrence in the Jewish people is mani-fested in his collected works; for his Explanat!on of Genesis (Ex-planatio in Genesirn), which is the only exclusively exegetical work of his still extant, was conceived and written with the Jews in mind. The commentary extends only through the. first eleven chapters of Genesis. The purpose of the commentary was to achieve a scientific understanding of ~the literal sense .of the book; to achieve this the saint not only utilized the opinions of Christian exegetes, but also made wide use of Jewish commentators on the book. This .use of Jewish commentators makes the work unique in the writings Of the do.ctors~ of the Church. As one writer has put it: ". there is no Doctor, of the Church who. has given such prominence to Hebrew scholars as Lawrence has done. The opus will ever have a special value for the conversion of the Jewish people. For this it was intended; and who knows but that, in God's Providence, the book's mission will find its fulfillment in ways that we cannot foresee.'" ~Cuthbert Gumbinger,-O.F.M.Cap., "St. Lawrence of Brindisi, Exegete," Catholic Biblical Quarter:ly, 8 (1946), 268. 349 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious Counter-Reformation In 1590 St. Lawrence was elected provincial of th~ Tuscany province;., in 1592 he was reappointed .to a t~5-year term as apos- ¯ tolic preacher to the Jews. At the conclusion of this term he assumed the provinciala~e of the Venice province; in 1596 he was elected .Definitor General of the entire order, and in 1598 he became provinc~al~9f Switzerland. Up to this point the zeal and labors of St. Lawrence had been limited almost ~ entirely to the regions of Italy; now, however, hi~ sanctity and his learning were to be given a chance to radiate out into the other countries of the continent. In 1599 St. Lawrence was sent ~o Prague to establish the Capuchins as a source of help for the :Counte.r.:Reformation in Austria and Bohemia. Despite violent opposition., from the Protestants and notwithstanding the . initial indiffe~e6ce, if not the hostility, of the Emperor Rudolph II, St. Lawrence. was able to effect a permanent establishment of the ¯ friars and l~d his fellow religious in a spirited apostoiate to win back Proteit~ants and to '.save lukewarm Catholics from defection. That the Capuchin apostolate was¯ successful can be seen from the words of the papal nuncio: "Thanks be to God, the number of Catholics is increasing . I~ is esphcially the Capuchins who reap a rich harvest.'''~ As a result of, his contact with Protesta~nts the saint com-posed a three-tome work, called An Outline of Lutheranism (Lu-theranismi hypotyposii). The work ~was a long expo6ition and refutation of.Lutheranism together with an apology for the Catholic Church as the only true Church of Christ. This work; together with some of the.saint's sermons; gives some idea of his theology of the Church. According to St. Lawrence, the salvific action¯ of Christ with regard to the human race has a!ways-been¯ exercised through the Church; its.history then goes back to the very origins of humanity, and all persons who have been saved must.be .re~arded as 'constituting the fullness of Christ. The materiali cause of the Church is the entirety of the faithful; its l~nal cause is the glorification "of the ~elect; its efficient cause is Christ, His apostles,- and their successors; and its formal cause is the faith as taught'by the Church~s legitimate rulers. ¯ -~Cited in Ludwig von Pastor, The History of the Popes, 23 (St. Louis: Herder, 1933), 384-85. 350 November, 1959 ST. LAWRENCE OF ]~RINDISI Without neglecting the other marks of the Church, St. Lawrence finds holiness or sanctity to be the principal characteris-tic mark of the Church, for it was primary in Christ's plan that I-Iis people be a holy nation. This mark of sanctity is manifested in the Church throughout her entire history by the multiplicity of her saints. This does not mean, St. Lawrence admits, that every Catholic is holy; but just as we call man a rational animal even though not.every part of him is rational, so also we call the Church holy, not because every member of the Church is actually holy and saintly, but because only in the Church do we find that exalted purity of heart and exercise of virtues which Christ desired for his religious society. Chaplain, Superior, Diplomat St. Lawrence had already had contact with two of the great bodies alienated from the Church--Jews and Protestants; now, and in a much different way, he would meet the third great body that was inimical to the Church--the Turks. Because of the con-tinued military strength of the Turks, Pope Clement VIII had formed a league of Christian princes against them; and St. Law-rence was made chief chaplain of the army the emperor contributed to the league. In 1601 the Christian and Turkish forces met at Szekesfehervar, a town thirty-five miles southwest of Budapest and the place where the kings of Hungary had been crowned from 1027 to 1527. The Christian forces were outnumbered four to one; the generals of the league judged retreat the only feasible maneuver. Lawrence, however, opposed their decision and finally convinced them to attack the Turkish forces. He himself exhorted the soldiers to bravery and went into battle at their head, carrying his crucifix as his only source of protection. For five days the battle continued with the saint always in the lead of the Christian forces; at the end of the five days the Turkish forces had "been routed. A few months after this incident St. Lawrence was elected the head of his order with the title of Vicar-.General. As Vicar- General, St. Lawrence was obliged to visit all the houses of his order from Italy to Spain. He made his visitations on foot and was notably successful in deepening throughout the order the love of Capuchin poverty and austerity. In 1606 St. Lawrence returned to Germany at the request of Pope Paul V to assist once more in the, Counter-Reformation. 351 R.' F. SMITH In 1609 his mission in Germ~n~ was interrupted when he was sefit by the same Pope to Philip III of Spai~i to gain his support of ~h~ Ciitholic League recently founded by Maiimilian of Bavaria. Af~er successfully completing this commission, the saint returned to Munich as papal nuncio; in 1610 while still remaining nuncio, he was also made chief chaplain of the armed forces of the Catholic Leagu~.In 1613 the saint's health was broken and he returned to Itaiy.There he was Minister-Provincial of the Genoa province until 1616. In 1619 he'jburneyed to Lisbbfi to plead the cause of the people of Naples against their viceroy. While negotiating the matter he fell ill and died the{e on July 22, 1619. This sketch of the latest doctor of the Church may be fittingly concluded with the words Pope Leo xiII wrote about him at the time of his canonization in 1881: .".There were resplendent in .him all.virtues, especially those which bring us close to God, faith, hope, and charity, from which all the other .virtues spring and derive their supernatural value. Hence his diligent and fervent love of prayer during which he ~vas frequently rapt in ecstasy; hence his remarkable devotion to. the Blessed Sacrament and his constant grief over the sufferings and death of our Lord; hence his most tender love of the Mother' of God to whom he credited all that he had received from Christ; and hence also his stalwart love of the Catholic faith, his horror for heresy and error, and his rock-firm fidelity to the See of Peter.".~ It is regrettable that little has been written in English about St. Lawrence. The only lengthy life of the saint is the volume entitled Life o[ St. Lawrence of Brindisi Apostle and Diplomat by Anthony Brennan, O.F.M.Cap. (London: Washbourne, 1911). The saint and his activities figure prominently in the second volume of Father Cuthbert's The Capuchins (London: Sheed and Ward, 1928). The best general introduction in English to the saint is to be found at present in various issues of Round Table of Fran.ciscan Research, a quarterly published by St. Anthony Friary, Mara-thon, Wisconsin. Four issues of the magazine are especially valu-able: v. 14, n. 2 (February, 1949); v. 14, n. 4 (June, 1949); v. 15, n. 2 (/~pril, 1950); and v. 15, n. 4 (October, 1950). These issues have furnished much of the data given in the present article. :~Cited in Armand Dasseville, "Saint Lawrence of Brindisi," in ~Round Table of Franciscan Research, 14 (1948-1949), 59. 352 Current Spiritual Writing Thomas G. OTallaghan, $. J. Edification p, RIESTS AND RELIGIOUS are frequently exhorted by. their superiors, rules, and retreat directors, to the practice of edification. They might well:ask themselves, however,, wheth.er they are fully aware of the real m~aning, the ]biblical .m.eaning~ of this word edify, in a rece6t,, scholhrly,, and most interesting article, ' "Building the House Of the Lord,''1 George MacRae, S.J., examines the use of this word in the New Testament, especially in St. Paul, in order to discover what is its proper meaning. To edify in its original literal sense meant to build. But when it was used as a religio~s metaphor in the New Testament, what precisely did it fi~ean; what was being built, who was the builder, and how did he build? In the Gospels Christ uses the metaphor twice: once when He promises to build His Church, that is,'not a structure of stone 'and mortar, but the assembly of God's people, upo.n the rock foundation of Peter; the other occasion was when He spoke of building up in three days the Temple of Jerusalem, which He used as a metaphor for His own resurrected body. Analyzing these metaphors, es-pecially in the light of their Old Testament background, MacRae shows that in Christ's use of the term: the builder is God or the Son of God; what is being built is the Church, the permanent assembly of God's people, the spiritual temple; and the purpose is "to perpetuate God's presence among His people and to provide a vehicle for continuing the salvation accomplished by the death and Resurrection of the Son of God." St. Paul also uses the word edify in a metaphorical sense, but with some variati?ns. In his letter to the Ephesians, speaking of the Church as a spiritual temple, Paul tells his readers that they are "members of God's household, built up on the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Christ Jesus Himself being the keystone. In Him the whole building is joined together and grows into a temple sacred in the Lord; in Him you are also built to-gether into a dwelling place of God in the Spirit" (2:19-22). 1American Ecclesiastical Review, 140 (1959), 361-76. 353 THOMAS G. 0'CALLAGHAN Review for Religious Through a careful analysis of this text, MacRae shows that the primary object of edification is the Church itself, to be edified or built in the first place by our Lord. But the task of edification is by no means confined to Christ alone. St. Paul more than once echoes the prophet Jeremiah in describing his own apostolic role as one of building up the faithful. He also at times makes it quite clear that edification is the work of every Christian: "Let us pursue the things that make for peace and mutual edification" (Rom 14:19); "Go on encouraging one another and edifying one another as you are doing" (1 Thess 5:11). Christ Himself, the apostles and their successors, all the faithful --these are the builders of the Church, the edifiers. In what does their edification consist? In regard to Christ, His "historical contribution to the building of the Church was His life's work of teaching, healing, sanctifying, redeeming man-kind by His death and Resurrection." This work He continues through grace which, says St. Paul, "has the power to edify" (Acts 20:32). As to the apostles, they must first "lay the founda-tion" (1 Cor 3:10) by preaching Christ and then "build up the Body of Christ" by their entire ministry (Eph 4:12). Finally, for all the faithful, Paul mentions several explicit means of edification: good example, love, personal integrity in dealing with others. In a word, all the good works that we perform as members of the Church are works of edification. There is one final problem to be considered in order to r.ecapture St. Paul's understanding of edification. If we examine all the pass-ages that mention edification, we find that at certain times the object of it is the Church as a whole, at others the individual member. Paul exhorts his readers to edify the Body of Christ and to edify one another. It can happen that too often we forget the collective aspect of edification and concentrate on the in-dividual. In fact, historically that has happened; and in the process there has been a distortion of St. Paul's original metaphor. A close study of the Epistles shows that he overwhelmingly stressed the collective aspect of edification. "Strive to be outstanding," he exhorts, "in.the edification of the Church" (1 Cor 14:42). The edification o~ individuals within the Church is only meaning-ful in relation to the Church as a whole. We should, therefore, try to rid our understanding of edification of any selfish or merely personal emphasis. "None of us lives for himself," the Apostle 354 November, 1959 CURRENT SPIRITUAL WRITING reminds us. "For if we live, we live for the Lord . We are the Lord's" (Rom 14:7-8). Edification is every Christian's partici-pation in the redemptive work of the Church, the Body of Christ and the Temple of His presence among us. Prayer For St. Teresa of Jesus mental prayer is an exercise of love, of personal love of God. It is an intimate, affective conversation with a loving God. Of the two major faculties which play a part in prayer, the intellect and will, it is the. will which is the more important. For, as the late Father Gabriel of St. Mary Magdalen, O.C.D., the eminent commentator on Teresian prayer, pointed out more than once, it is from the will that love and the other basic affections flow; since it is these which are most effective and fruitful in uniting the soul with God, the will must hold the first place in prayer. That is not to deny to the intellect its own importance, but it is still secondary to the will. -In fact, the primary purpose of intellectual work in prayer is to prepare for the affections of the will. But, before the will can love God and pour out affections to Him, God must be present to the soul in some way. Thus, Teresa also stresses the importance of faith in the divine presence. For St. Teresa, then, to be with God and to speak intimately with Him, this is the substance of mental prayer. In the Way of Perfection, when commenting on the Our Father, the saint of Avila laid great stress on one way in particular of being with God. She tried to teach and impress on her nuns, many of whom were not learned in things theological, the extraordinary importance of the inhabitation of God in the soul. This doctrine of the presence of the triune God in the soul she made the basis of what she calls the Prayer of Recollection. Since God dwells in the soul, St. Teresa taught her nuns' to seek Him there, and there to speak intimately with Him as with a "Father, a Brother, a Lord and a Spouse -- and, sometimes in one way and sometimes in another . Remember how important it is for you to under-stand this truth--that the Lord is within us and that we should be there with Him.''~ This prayer Teresa calls the Prayer of Recollection because the soul collects together all the faculties, withdraws the senses from all outward things, and enters within itself to be with its 2The Complete Works of Saint Teresa of Jesus (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1946), 2, 115. 355 THOMAS G. O'CALLAGHAN Review for Religious Divine Guest. Thus, there is a detachment from. exterior things in order to center itself on God dwelling within the soul. This recollection; .Teresa of Avila warned her religious, is not an easy thing to acquire, especially at the beginning.It.demands ener-getic effort and mortification, and the soul should expect this. But if one continues faithfully to make the necessary effort--not only during prayer but. also at other times during the day--then the soul will gain .mastery over itself and will be able, without any great, fatiguing effort, to center itself on God within. ' Onde the soul has found God, it doesnot seem that the Prayer of.Recollection demands, any partidular way of praying. St. Teresa even susgests vocal prayer, that one recite very slowly the Our Fathei~. "Accustom yourselves, to saying the Paternoster'in :this recollected way, and before long you will see how you gain' by doing so. It is a method of prayer which establishes habits that prevent the soUl. from going astray and the faculties from becom-ing restless . I only beg~you to test it." ". But whether a person prays vocally or mentally, the general tendency of the Pray,er ,of. Recollection is .that it easily becomes simplified. That is why:some authors, i~ seems,, classify it as a PraYer of simple' regard or of active contemplation. Since it is not too often that one finds in American periodicals an e.xplanation oof St. Teresa's l~rayer of Recpllection,. some may be int.~rested in reading "The Prayer of Remembering" by Father I-linnebi~sch, O.P.3 Eyen better--wi~h all due respect to the learned author--those who are interested might prefer to read the Way Per[ection, especi.ally Chapters 28 and 29, and study there, the doctrine in the saint's own words. Abnegation Despite frequent substitution for one another, the words abnegation, renouncement, and mortification, although they have something in common, are strictly nbt synonyms, nor are they "used.-in Sacred Scripture as such. In order to determine their precise meaning, the very learned and scholarly Father Hausherr, $.J., examines each of th.ese.words in their evangelical context.4 Since his obser~atibns are most interesting, it might 'be useful 3Cro~ss and Crown, 11 (1959), 174-79. 4"Abnegation, Renouncement, Mortification," Christus, 6 (1959), 182-95. . . 356 November, 1959 CURRENT SPIRITUAL WR.ITING to mention¯ a¯ few of° them. But, because a summary of his explana-tion of mortification might easily distort his teaching, we will limit ourself to a few of his observations on" abnegation and re: nouncement. ~n abnegation there 'is hegation; and to deny (negate) is an intellectual operation. But when the Gospel, speaking of abnega1' "tion as some" sort of duty, uses the word abnegate (a'bnegare), it always has, but for one exception, the same direct object: to deny oneself (Mt~ 16:24; Mk 8:34; Lk 9i23). The abnegation which Christ, who is Truth, demands of us is that wedeny of ou~selves that which is not true. That seems to b~little, but it is ieally something enormous. For the great truth about ourselves is that we are creatures of God; .ne.gatively, that. we are not God. Thi~ fundamental negation cohstitutes the whole essence of .~bnegation, just as the essence of ~doration is the fundamental affirmation that God is God. Th~s~ two truths are reallyo~ly ~ne; there is no abnegation without adoration of God, and no adoration of God without abne-gation of oneself. Thus, abnegation taken in this proper sense will last forever. Perhaps the best° formula of ~he basic abnegation of oneself is that of the Baptist: "And he acknowledged and did not deny; and he acknowledged, 'I am not the Christ' " (Jn-1:20). ¯ " AbnegatiOn then, beipg primarily ~an intellectual" a.ct, an a~kfiowledgment of'truth, does ndt indicate any pain or suffering. On the ~ont~ary, itseems quite clear that there isno reai" happiness except in the truth; and in ~ohfirmati(>n of this, one may point to the joy which accompanies devout adoration. But abnegation, precisely because it is an intellectual act,. does entail some inescapable .consequences. Just as to know God in the biblical sense means to acknowledge and to' treat Him as God, so to deny myself means to ackpowledge that I am a.creature and to behave as such. Abneg6tionzadoration lived out in daily living becomes renouncement and mortification. The Greek word which we translate as .renounce means to set apart, to dismiss (Christ dismissed the crowd.before going ~nto the hills to pray), to take leave of (Paul took leave of the brethren and sailed for Syria). .- ~ .: The commandment of renouncement is contained in the~single text: "Every one of you who does not renounce all that h~possesses, 357 THOMAS G. 0'CALLAGHAN Review for Religious cannot be my disciple" (Lk 14:33). This commandment is addressed to all and pertains to all goods of whatever nature. While abnega-tion means that God is God and that we are not God, 'and consists in neither considering nor treating ourselves as God, renouncement emphasizes that God is God and nothing else is God, and consists in neither considering nor treating any created pers.on or thing as God. This then is an affair of the heart, a disposition of interior. detachment, of spiritual poverty. Nothing may be loved with the sovereign love due to God alone. Renouncement is thus the logical consequence of that basic truth: God is God, and neither I nor any created thing is God. ~ Complacency and Concern During the year there appeared in Theological Studies a very long and scholarly article entitled "Complacency and Concern in the Thought of St. Thomas.''5 It was written for experts in the field. But in another article under a similar title the author sum-marized in a simple and clear way a few of the more practical aspects of the matter.6 It might be of some interest to mention here a few of the points which he made. Human activity may be divided into the two compartments of necessity and possibility. Man reacts to these two in different ways. When one is faced with the possibility of accomplishing something of value, he rises to effort and action; but faced with necessity, he must submit. In order to live, then, with wisdom and get the most out of life, one must see clearly what are necessities and inevitable limitations, and be willing to submit to them; but one must also see what are possibilities, and then react with effort and concern. Thus, there are two attitudes towaid life, each complementing and moderating the other. On the one hand there is the rest and simple complacency which comes from acquiescing willingly to the necessities of life, to what must be. On the other hand there is the solicitude and concern of trying to attain certain attractive possible goals, of contending for what is not yet, but can be. To necessity there should correspond in our life the disposition of "complacency in the good that is"; and to possibility there should correspond "concern for the good that may be." ~Frederick E. Crowe, S.J., 20 (1959), 1-39, 198-230, 343-95. 6"Complacency and Concern," Cross and Crown, 11 (1959), 180-90. November, 1959 CURRENT SPIRITUAL WRITING There seems to be something of this division in Scripture. In reading the Written Word of God we meet at times what seem to be contradictory recommendations. If we examine them, perhaps we will find that these scriptural recommendations can be ordered around the two attitudes of complacency and concern, and that the situations to which they are to be applied correspond to what Father Crowe calls necessity and possibility. For example, we are told to strain forward to what is before, to press on to the goal, to fight the good fight. We must watch and pray, be vigilant; we have to serve God with a whole heart and with all our strength. All this suggests effort, drive, concern for goals which can be attained. Yet we are also told not to be anxious for life, to be willing to accept the order of divine Providence. For if, like the humble Christ, we accept the things which we cannot change, then we will find rest for our souls. This suggests complacency in the face of necessity. Although he does not mention the point, it seems that the distinction which the author makes between possibility and ne_ces-sity is very close to the distinction which many modern spiritual writers make between the signified will of God and the will of good pleasure. At least in practice it appears that they would work out to be just about the same thing. Also, what he calls concern and complacency is very similar to what spiritual writers mean by active and passive conformity. I-Iere also it seems that in practice they would more or less coincide. Perhaps these simi-larities are worth some consideration: One thing, however, is quite true. One of the reasons why many generous and dedicated religious do not enjoy the peace of soul which should rightly be theirs is that they d5 not dis-tinguish carefully between what Father Crowe defines and ex-plains as necessity and possibility. They become concerned about necessities and unavoidable limitations, about things which should be the object of peaceful complacency. (Of course, there are also those who are too often complacent when they should be concerned; this is basically laz.iness.) These souls who find themselves without interior peace, overconcerned and anxious about things which they cannot chan~e, might do well to read this article. They might find there a source of some help. 359 Survey of Roman DocUme nts R. F. Smith, S. J: THE DOCUMENTSWhich appeared in Acta (A~A pSo)stoiicae Sedis during June and July, 1959, will be surveyed in the' follow.ing article. Throughout the article all page references will be" to the 1959 AAS (v. 51). ¯ John XXIII's First Encyclical On the Feast of Sts. Peter and Paul, June 29, 1959 (AAS, pp. 497-531), John XXIII issued the first encyclical of his pontificate. Entitled Ad Petri cathedram, the document was divided into four parts, the first of which was concerned, with truth. The root caus.eof, all the evils that infect individuals and nations today, His Holiness began, is ignorance and even contempt of truth. This condition~ .has arisen, he continued, even though God has given man a reason cap'able Of l~now-ing natural truth and despite the. fact that the Word of God, became flesh to show man the plenitude of truth. Because of the latter fact, the Pontiff continued, all men. must a.dopt the do~trine of the gospe.l; and if they reject it,. they jeopardize the foundations of t~uth, probity,' and civilization and deprive themselves of'eternal life. In this connectior~ the Vicar of Christ warned thos~ ahsoci~t~d with the commucation arts of writing, radio, movies, hnd television to avoid deceit and evil especially 'in matteis intended for~ the ~neducated and the young. In concluding the first" part of .the encyclical the Holy Father lamented the indifference to truth that leads to religious in-difference and eventually to the denial of all religion. The men of today, he remarked, work tirelessly for the progress of human knowledge; should they not, he asked, exercise a similar zeal to acquire that knowl-edge which is concerned not with this earthly and mortal life but with the life of heaven which does not pass away? In the second part of the encyclical, John XXIII noted that from the acquisition of truth there must necessarily flow union and concord. God, he ins.isted, has created men to be brothers, not enemies. To them he has given the earth for their support and sustenance. Accordingly the different nations of the edith should be communities of brothers who should work together not only for their own individual purposes but also for the common good of all humanity. If, he added, brotherly union based on justice and nourished by charity does not prevail; then the world situation will continue to be grave. Shofild a war break out, both conquerors and conquered will reap nothing but disaster and universal ruin, so great is the power of modern weapons. Concord and unity must also exist between the social classes within a nation. Such class distinctions, he said, are necessary; but 360 ROMAN DOCUMENTS just as the different parts of the body form. a symmetrical whole, so also the various classes should by their mutual collaboration realize a harmonious equilibrium. The Vicar .of .Christ completed this part of the encyclical by.urging a similar unity and concord in the family, observing that if concord does not exist there it will never be achieved in society at large. The third and principal part of the encyclical was concerned with the unity of the Church. Noting that in recent times those who are separated from the Holy See have grown in sympathy towards the Catholic Church and at the same time have attempted to create a closer unity among themselves, the Pontiff proceeded to show how the unity Christ willed for His Church is to be found in the Catholic Church with her unity of doctrine, government, and worship. Unity of doctrine, he said, is possessed by the Church because she teaches all the truths of divine revelation as they are conserved in Scripture and tradition and-clarified, by the teaching power of .the Church. The Church's unity of government is easy to perceive: the faithful are subject to their priests; the priests to their bishops; the bishops to the Roman Pdntiff, successor of Peter, the foundation rock of the Church. 'A similar unity of worship is to be found in the Church, for she has always had the seven sacraments and has possessed but one sacrifice, that of the Eucharist. Addressing .himsel~ ~lirectly to those who are separated from the Holy S~e., the Pontiff asked them if this spectaclb of the unity of the Catholic Church .does not answer their own desire for unity; and he invited them to return to the Church which they will find is not a strange dwelling but the common house of the heavenly Father: Re-minding them that the troops of the saints which their nations have already sent to heaven urge them to. unity with the Holy See, the Pdntiff concluded, his plea by s.aying to all those who are separated from the chair of Peter: "I am your brother Joseph" (Gen 45:4) who desires nothin~ for you but your salvation and eternal happiness. In the 'fi~i~l part of the encyclical, John XXIII considered the various member's of the Church. He urged the bishops to fortify them-selves in their work to extend the kingdom of God by ~ecalling the words of St. Paul: "I can do all things in Him who strengthens me" (Phil 4:13). To the clergy he recommended respectful ,obedienc~ to the bishops and exhort&t them never to think that they havb done enough to further the reign of Christ. Having encouraged religions men to live the rule of their live~ in obedience to their superiors, he asked them to be especially zealous for prayer, works of penance,. ~ducation of the young, 'and the care of the needy. He assured the missionaries .of the Church that no enterprise is more pleasing to God than their own. He extolled the role of religious women in the Church as the brides of Christ and noted that their work 361 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious is of incalculable profit both for the Church and fort civil society. To members of Catholic Action he promised a special document later in his pontificate, contenting himself for the present with the remark that the zeal of the laity should be as great as the needs of our times. He consoled the afflicted and suffering by reminding them that we have not here a lasting city but seek one for the future; and he asked them to utilize their sufferings to expiate the sins of others and to obtain the return of those who have quitted the Church. He told the poor that the Church is not their enem. y but rather preaches a social doctrine that aims at a just distribution of material wealth. Above all he urged them not to allow false promi~.es of material goods to lead them to embrace doctrines c~ndemned by the Church. After detailing the unfortunate lot of the refugees in the world today and after describing the bitter situation of the persecute~ members of the Church, the Pontiff concluded his encyclical by .exhOrting all not only to pray for the Church's needs but to contribute to the flowering of the Church by a renovation of Christian living. Allocutions and Addresses At the solemn Vespers for Pentecost, May 17, 1959 (AAS," pp. 419-22), the Vicar of Christ delivered an allocution in which he shared with his listeners both joyful and sad news. The joyful announcement was concerned with the formation of a commission to prepare the work of the projected ecumenical council. The sad news was the worsening condition of the Church in China and .Hungary. After d, escribing the conditions now existing in those countries, the Pontiff promised prayer that Christ, who in founding the Church did not wish to exclude per-secution from her, might give the persecuted brethren cpnstancy and firmness and might bring the persecutors light, pardon, a~d conversion. On the same day (AAS, p. 430) the Pontiff also gave a brie~radio address to conclude an all-European broadcast Of the hymn Veni Creator. On June 28, 1959 (AAS, pp. 476-81), at the solemn First Vespers of the Feast of Sts. Peter and Paul, the Vicar of Christ delivered an o allocution on the liturgy of the feast and its accompanyipg blessing of the pallium. Just as, the Pope said, the brief dialogue between the angel and Mary in the sacred silence of Nazareth summed up the mystery of the Incarnation and of the redemption, so too the dialpgue between Peter and Christ at Caesarea Philippi established the structure of the Catholic Church. Peter then opens the line" of the Roman Pontiffs whose authority extends to the teaching work of the Church as well as to the organization of the Church's work throughout the world. The pallium, he concluded, which is blessed on the present occasion, is a symbol of unity and sign of perfect coinmunion with the Holy See; it is, as well, an indication of fidelity to the teaching of the head of the Church. On July 5, 1959 (AAS, pp. 536-38), John XXIII broadcast a message to those participating in the seventeenth Eucharistic Congress 362 November, 1959 ROMAN DOCUMENTS of France. Telling his listeners that a Eucharistic congress is nothing else than a long, fervent visit to the Blessed Sacrament, he warned them that the traditional practice of visits to the Blessed Sacrament is today neglected and even disparaged by some members of the Church. Accordingly he urged his listeners to retur~ to their homes persuaded of the excellence of this practice and desirous to make it loved by others. On May 17, 1959 (AAS, p. 431), the Pope radioed a message to the people of Portugal congratulating them on the completion of their national shrine to Christ the King. On May 26, 1959 (AAS, pp. 426-27), the Holy Father addressed the Order of Canons Regular of St. Augustine on the occasion of the federation of the four congregations° which compose the order. On the previous day (AAS, pp. 466-68) he had addressed a letter to Bishop Severinus Haller, newly chosen Abbot Primate of the order, 'in com-memoration Of the nine hundredth anniversary of the Lateran Synod which gave decisive shape and form to the order. The Pontiff encour-aged the members of the order to carry out the principal purposes of their institute; and after bidding them to emphasize common life, to reject worldly ways of thinking, and to practice obedience to superiors as to Christ, he urged them to continue that fraternal charity which has always b~en the characteristic of the order. On June 11, 1959 (AAS, pp. 470-73), John XXIII addressed a group of former chaplains of the Italian army. He told them that his own soldiering experience had led him to a deeper understanding of human nature and had also given him a great respect for the priesthood as he saw it exercised by his army chaplains.' Later as a chaplain, he continued, he had come into contact with the wounded and suffering; and their gro,ans brought home to him man's universal desire for peace. Hence, he said, all military chaplains should be men of peace who by their very presence bring serenity to souls. He reminded his listeners that the chaplain should always approach his men as a priest. The men, he emphasized, expect from their chaplains the light of the gospel and of sacrifi~ce; and they wish to see in the chaplain the minister of Christ and tl~e dispenser of the mysteries of God. On June 28, 1959 (AAS, pp. 481-83), the Pope gave a world broad-cast as part of the beginning of World Refugee Year. Exiles, he explained, have always 'been a special object of the Church's solicitude, for she can not forget the words of Christ: "I was a stranger and you took me I ~n; naked and you clothed me . I was in prison and you came to see me" (Mt 25:35-37). Today, he went on, hundreds of thousands of exiles are living in camps and barracks, are humiliated in their dignity as men, and are exposed to sharp temptations of discouragement and despair. The existence of such a state of affairs, he asserted, is an anomaly in a society so proud of its technical and social progress. The Holy Father exhorted all the faithful to cooperate in the Refugee Year and bade pastors to call the attention of their charges to this invitation of 363 R. F. SMITH Providence to exercise Christian charity. He also urged public authori-ties to' intensify their' efforts in behalf of refugees, expressing a wish that-countries open their frsntiers to them: ~ ¯ Five allocutions' given in the June and July issues of AAS were given to heads of state on thei~ official visits to the Holy Father. They were given to the regents of the Republic of San Marino (AAS, pp. 423-24), to the kirig dnd qdeen of Greece (AAS, pp. 424-26), to the president of the Republic of Turkey (AAS, pp. 427-29),' to the prince and princess of Monaco (AAS, pp. 473-74), and to the president of France (AAS, pp. 474-76). Miscellaneous Documents By th~ apostolic letter Celsitudo ex hurnilitate of March 19, 1959 (AAS,. pp. 456-61), Pope John XXIII declared St. Lawrence of Brindisi a doctor of the Church and established his feast day on July 21. By another apostolic letter "Agnes sepulchrum," February .27, 1959 (AAS, pp.,.415-17), the Church of St. Agnes Outside the .Walls was made a stational church (along with the previous station, St. John Before the Latin Gate) for the Saturday after Passion Sunday. On May 17, 1959 (AAS, ,pp. 401-03), the Pontiff's motu proprio Cum inde granted the Pontifical Lateran Athenaeum the status of a univeroity. On June 5, 1959 (AAS, p. 489), the Sacred Penitentiary released the text of a prayer composed by the Holy Father to be recited~by automobile drivers. Drivers who recite the prayer devoutly and with contrite heart may gain an indulgence of three years. . The Sacred Congregation of Rites on January 28, 1959 ~AA~,:pp. 4.8.5-88), approved the introduction of the cause of the Servant of God Mary Ann Sala (1829-1891) of the Congregation of the Sisters of St. Marcellina (Marcellines). On May 8,-1959 .(AAS, pp. 484-85), the Holy .Office issued a warning concerning Giovanni Taddei, priest of the diocese of Biella, who had ,already been suspended and excluded from the wearing of ecclesiastical costume. Since he has subsequently joined a non-.Catholic sect and has received there episcopal consecration, he has merited excommunication and the other penalties of canon 2314, § 1. Moreover he has dared to confer sacred orders on Catholic subjects; such persons, are to be considered as heretics or 'at least as suspect of heresy; moreover their ordinations are not recognized by the .Church and the persons involved are to be treated as laymen in all things including the right to contract marriage. The same Holy Office in a decree of June 4,. 1958 (AAS, p. 432), placed the following books by Henri Dumdry on the Index: Philosophie de la religion, 2 v. (Paris: Presses. Universitaires de France, 1957); Critique.et religion (Paris: Socidtd d'Edition d'Enseignement Supdrieur, 1957); Le probl~rne de Dieu en la philosophie de. la religion (Bruges: Desclde de. Brouwer, 1957); and La foi' n'est pas un cri (Tournai: Caster-man, 1957). 364 Views, News, Previews UNDER THE AUSPICES of the Sacred Congregation of Religio.us there has been issued a volume entitled Directory of the Religious Women of Italy (Annuario delle religiose d'Italia). The volume, which is to be a quinquennial publication, provides a national directory of the various religious orders and congregations of women in Italy. According to the foreword of the directory the Sacred Congregation had four motives in view when sponsoring the publication: 1) The congregation wished to have a clear, systematic, and. complete view of the numerical, geographical, and social situation of the women religious of Italy. 2) It wished to manifest in a concrete way the importance it attaches to the 'use and proper interpretation of statistics on religious life. 3) The congregation wished to offer to all those interested in the problems of modern religious life an objective and complete view which would aid them to give a correct solution to those problems. 4)' Finally it wished to use the compilation of the directory as a pilot study for a future volume on all the states of perfection in the entire Church. The directory is divided into four parts. The first of these gives an alphabetical listing of all the religious institutes for women .to be found in Italy; and for each of them it gives its specific aim, briefly indicates its history, and notes the extent of its existence m countries other, than Italy. The second part follows the previous alphabetical list, this time noting after each institute the location of each Italian house. The third part provides an~ alphabetical list of the dioceses of Italy, noting in each diocese the location of all its houses of religious women. The fourth and final part is devoted to statistical tables on the number and distribution of religious women in Italy. The directory, which costs 4,000 life, may be purchased from the following address: Segreteria del .C.I.S. Piazza S. Callisto, 16, Rome, Italy The foreword of the directory mentioned in the preceding item includes some interesting statistics of the religious women of Italy. The following chart, taken from those statistics, shows the growth in numbers of religious women in Italy: Year Number ofreligious women 1881 28,172 1901 40,251. 1911 . 45,616 1921 71,679 . 1931 112,208 ~951 144,171 1957 152,312 Number of religious women per 10,000 population 9.9 12.4 13.~. .18.9 27.2 30.3 31.3 365 VIEWS, NEWS, PREVIEWS The directory also makes some important remarks on the geographical distribution of religious women in Italy. In 1881 the greater number of religious women was to be found in the central and southern parts of Italy. In 1957, however, 55% of .the religious women are found in northern Italy, 24 % in central Italy, and 21% in southern Italy. The July 15, 1959, issue of Informations catholiques internationales gave a panoramic view of every phase of the Church today; from it are taken the following statistics of interest to priests and religious. At the present time the Church has 381,500 priests, of which 116,000 are religious and 265,500 belong to the diocesan clergy. On this basis there is 1 priest for every 1,261 Catholics in the world. This propor-tion, however, does not indicate the wide variations in the geographical distribution of priests. Such variations are given in the following table which lists for each geographical division the number of Catholics for each priest as well as the total number of inhabitants for each priest: Number of Catholics Total population Region. per priest per priest Africa 1,538 16,555 Asia 1,531 75,827 Central America 5,077 5,257 Europe 925 2,510 North America 652 2,685 Oceania 588 3,763 South America 4,569 5,030 The same source reports that at present there are 283,640 men religious in the world; 58% of these are in Europe; 16% in North America, 14% in Latin America, 6% in Africa, 4.5% in Asia, and 1.5% in Oceania. Religious women of the world number about 930,000; of these 61% are in Europe, 21% in North America, 8% in Latin America, 4% in Asia, 2% in Africa, and 4% in Oceania. The United States and Italy together have one-third of the religious women in the world. September 27, 1960, will mark the three hundredth anniversary of the death of St. Vincent de Paul. The Vincentian Fathers and the Daughters of Charity throughout the world will celebrate this anni-versary of their founder by an entire preparatory Year of Observance. The year began in September, 1959, and will extend through September, 1960. Those interested in more information about the year may con-tact: Tercentenary Observance Committee, The Vincentian Fathers, 500 E. Chelten Avenue, Philadelphia 44, Pennsylvania. 366 ( uestions Answers [The following answers are given by Father Joseph F. Gallen, S. J., professor of canon law at Woodstock College, Woodstock, Maryland.] I believe that the proportion of very elderly members in the general chapters of our congregation of sisters is constantly too great. I admit the validity of the argument of wisdom and ex-perience, but this does not demand that so many capitulars be from the highest age level. Many elderly religious are simply out of touch. They understand neither the youth of today nor today itself. Is there any system of delegates that. apportions the delegates according to various age levels? I agree completely with the reasoning of this questioner. I know of no such system of delegates that has been actually approved by the Holy See, but one pontifical institute is considering a system of the following type for presentation to the Sacred Congregation. 1. In the election of delegates to the general (provincial) chapter, only the sisters of perpetual vows have active and passive voice. These sisters shall elect twenty-four delegates. 2. From a prepared list containing the names of all local superiors then in office, each sister shall vote for six delegates. 3. The mother general (provincial), with the consent of her council, will have divided into three equal groups according to precedence from first profession the sisters of perpetual vows who are neither local superiors nor members of the general (provincial) chapter in virtue of any office. She will also have made clear to the vocals just what sisters are in each group. 4. At the same time as the election of the superior delegates, each sister shall vote for six delegates from each of these three groups. This voting will be done on a ballot marked group 1, group 2, group 3. 5. In each house, on the day determined in the letter of convocation, the sisters shall assemble under the presidency of their local superior. The latter shall collect all the ballots without inspecting them and enclose them with her own ballots in an envelope, which she shall seal in the presence of the electors. She shall write on this inner envelope, "Election of Delegates, House N." and forward it immediately to the mother general (provincial). 6. As soon as possible after all the envelopes have been received, the mother general (provincial), with her council, shall open the envelopes and count the votes. The secretary general (provincial) shall record the votes. The elections are decided by a relative majority. The sub-stitutes are the local superiors and sisters of each group who in order received the next highest number of votes (c. 174; 101, § 1, 1°). 367 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Review for Religious The first article is to be omitted if stated elsewhere in the con-stitut. ions. Perpetual vows for a determined number of years may be demanded for passive voice or also for active voice, for example, of perpetual vows for at least five years. The delegates will be elected for the provincial chapter; if the institute is divided into provinces; other-wise for the general chapter. This system, as is true in general of group systems, will maintain the same number in the general or provincial chapter not~.'thstanding any increase in the number of members of the institute or province. I believe that the numbe~ in a chapter of lay i~stitutes should not be greater than forty. A chapter of fifty or more becomes progressively unwieldy and inefficient. The chapters of many clerical institutes are also too large for efficiency. Ordinarily seven general and provincial officials are members of the general or provincial chapter. There are frequently two or three added .members, for ~example, forme~ superiors general in the general, chapter. The present system would therefore givea chapter of thirty-one to thirty-five members. Some may prefer to elect twenty-eight delegates. The present system would give a proportion of eighteen subjects to thirteen superiors and officials, which seems appropria.te. ~. Local superiors are eligible by the mere fact that they hold this office. It does not seem practical to divide ttiem also accordihgto preceden~ce.The oldest eligible sisters will be in group one, the middle level in group two, and the youngest in group three. If the total numbe~ does not permit a division into three perfectly equal groups, the added members, according to the general norm of precedence, will be in the older group, for example, 51, 50, .50, or 51, 51, 50. A provincial chapter ordinarily elects two delegates to the general chapter, rarely three or four. The same system may be employed for these delegates by dividing the eligible .sisters into two, three, or four groups. Article six'states that the 'substitutes are thos~e who in order re-ceived the next highest number of votes. Therefore,' no matter how many substitutes are required or how many substitutes are also pre-vented from attending, the places are filled by taking'those with'the next highest number of votes. In institutes divided into provinces, it may be established that this norm of substitution from the. first group applies also to the mother provincial, if she cannot attend" the general chapter. Any tie vote is broken by the u~ual norm of lay institutes, that is, by seniority of first profession; but if the sisters made their first pro-fession on the same day, by seniority of age- I presume that this norm was previously stated i~i the constitutions in a ~eneral article on the number of votes required for an election. 368 November, 1959 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Religious institutes appear to me to be outstandingly lacking in cooperation with other religious institutes. The religious of one institute are at least very frequently aloof and distant in their attitude to other religious, and the institutes themselves often appear more as rivals than partners in carrying out the work of Christ. This does not seem to me to conform to the concept of the Mystical Body. Even in the Church of Chris~, we can have the human failing of being so intent on ourselves and our own work as to forget and neglect others. This is possible in religions and religions institutes; it is equally possible in other parts of the Church, for example, in the relation of one diocese to another and of the Church in one country in relation to the faithful in another. Love of our own nation can so readily and falsely lead ns to the unalterable assumption of its superiority over° ,other nations in everything and the same self-deception can occur with regard to our own institute.- The greatness of an institute i~ not necessarily the measure of such dorporate pride. Pride is not confined to the powerful and rich; it can be more intense, pervasive, and harmful in the weak and poor. Abbe Baechler aptly and beautifully expresse~ the right principle in this matter. It is noticeable that our time, in which institutions and customs change so rapidly and present so many problems, shows a special predilection for the dodtrine of the Mystical Body. It is equally providential that, not content with admiring the doctrine, it should be eager to make use of it in its life; to work together, to pray together, to collaborate as a team, all this is a distinctive feature of the young people of today. The "s~nse of the Church" is developing, and is inspiring many realizations from the top of the hier-archical ladder down to the least of the faithful. To have the "sense of the Church" will mean for a congregation and its members, first of all conscious-ness of being a part of Christ's great family, a branch of the Sacred Vine, a member of the Mystical Body. One of the first consequences of this great awakening will be a feeling of dependence and humility, very necessary in religious life; w~ are not a Whole, but a part: Christ is the whole: omnia in omnibus. This is the way to fight against .a kind of collective individualism, if I may say so, a kind of feeling of perfection and fullness, as well as of family exclusiveness, not unheard of in congregations, especially when they are large and well organized. Individual members feel so well off there that they think they can suffice to themselves. Actually, however glorious the history of an institute may be, however perfect its Constitutions, however enlightened its Superiors, it remains the servant of Christ and of His Church that prolongs and extends Him. It is not an only child; it has many b~oth~rs and sisters. Certainly it is not only legitimate but even h0nourable to be proud of one's Order, of its past, of its great men. But we must not for all that forget the Church,' nor despise the other members of the Mystical Body. St. Francis de Sales exhorted the Sisters of the Visitation in a charming page to complete their personal humility by collective humility: they were to look on theirs as the smallest and last of religious congregations, though they are to love it more than all the others, just as a child prefers his mother to any other woman even although there are others more .beautiful. (Communal Life, 200-201.) Although greater cooperation is always possible and desirable, I belieYe that the religions institutes of our time have not only awakened 369 BOOK REVIEWS Review [or Religious to the necessity but have manifested a heartening spirit of cooperation. This has been evident in the activities of educational and hospital associations; the confederations of higher superiors; the federations of monasteries of nuns; religious congresses, institutes, and workshops; and especially in so many aspects of the sister formation movement. Doesn't renovation and adaptation really imply reform? All writers deny this; but, if renovation means an increase of fer~?,or, doesn't this imply a reprehensible lack of fervor in the past? Renovation and adaptation can be said to imply reformation or reform only if these are taken in the sense of making better or improving, not if they imply moral evil or abuses in the past. The purpose of renovation and adaptation is not the correction of evil but the elimina-tion of a blind, unswerving, and material conformity to everything done in the past and of the lack of a true, constant, and universal spirit of progress. "A true adaptation is a modification of the constitutions and observances for a better realization of the spirit of the founder in given circumstances. The true adaptation arises not from a lessening of life but from an increase of fervor. The more fervent the life, the better it adapts itself" (Most Reverend A. Ancel in Acta et Documenta Congressus Generalis de Statibus Perfectionis, I [Rome: Pia Societh San Paolo, 1952], 124). "Even the Church has always admitted a certain evolution that the circumstances rendered necessary. Anyone who is opposed in principle to adaptations does not possess the spirit of the Church" (Ancel, ibid.). "The purpose is to give a new impetus to the religious life by rendering easier the development of its ti-ue values and remSving the obstacles in its externals that were established in human and social circumstances of life different from our own, no longer have any reason for existence, and can be profitably replaced by others that take. into account the changed conditions of life" (Reverend Gabriel of Saint Mary Magdalene, .O.C.D., ibid., 139). Booh Reviews [Material for this department should be sent directly to Book Review Editor, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, West Baden College, West Baden Springs, Indiana.] THE BRIDE: ESSAYS IN THE CHURCH. By Daniel Berrigan, S.J. New York: Macmillan, 1959. Pp. 142. $3.50. The excellence of this book of reflections on the Church and her meaning in sacred history and in the life of the Christian will come as no surprise to those who have read Father Berrigan's highly acclaimed volume of poems, Time Without Number. This second book is not easy to classify; the publisher's 370 November, 1959 BooK REVIEWS dust jacket refers to it as a theological prose-poem; perhaps "variations on some theological themes" would serve as a description. In any case, The Bride is eminently worth reading, an unusually moving and beautiful book. Various chapters deal with Israel and her role in the history of salva-tion; with the event of the Incarnation; with the Church as extension of the incarnate Word; the Kingdom in history; the meaning of person in the light of faith; the Christian's knowledge of redeemed creation; the mission of the Church; various elements of the Christian life -- prayer, suffering, the sacrifice of the Mass, fulness in the Church, the saints. Throughout, every-thing is seen in the light of the risen Lord living in His Church. In every chapter the fine sensibility and intelligence of the poet accom-panies uncommon spiritual insight into the theological realities which bear on Christian existence and the ecclesial life~ and again and again the quality of Father Berrigan's writing wonderfully renews what it touches. True, The Bride is not, as Time Without Number was not, an "easy" book. The author is often content to "reveal" a truth in quick bold strokes, rapidly suggest its relevance, and pass on to other reflections. The unity of the chapters, as of the entire book, is to be looked for in the insights which illuminate various aspects of the themes treated. If the reading sometimes proves difficult (we trust the preparation of a second edition will allow the more painstaking editing this book deserves), it is nonetheless invariably rewarding. One hopes that this work will reach the hands of all thoughtful Christians --those above all who are engaged in various forms of the apostolic life--who need just such food for their minds and hearts as this. Religious will find here much that is fresh and valuable for their prayer and reflection, much to quicken true Christian love and apostolic concern. Few books we know impart so well and with such sincerity the breadth and beauty of the Christian vision and. the sense of the imperiousness anal urgency of the Christian vocation to share in the labor of the redemption.--C. G. AR~VALO, S.J. THE BIBLE IN THE CHURCH. By Bruce Vawter, C.M. New York: Sheed and Ward, 1959. Pp. 95. Paper $.75. PATTERN OF SCRIPTURE. By Cecily Hastings, Vincent Rochford, and Alexander Jones. New York: Sheed and Ward, 1959. Pp. 96. Paper $.75. Father Vawter, whose clarity of expression is happily matched by his ind.ustry, states his purpose in the first sentence of his foreword: "This little book is intended as a brief explanation of the role played by the Bible in the life of the Catholic Church." On this basis he divides his material into

Issue 70.4 of the Review for Religious, 2011. ; Unique Approaches Building Community Focus on Joseph Potpourri quarterly 70.4 2011 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 PHONE: 314-633o4610 ¯ FAX: 314-633-4611 EMAIL: reviewrfr@gmail.com ¯WEBSITE: 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 o P.O. Box 6070 ° Duluth, MN 55806. PHONE: 877-467-8687 ¯ FAX: 218-740-6437 ¯ EMAIL: fulfill@superfill.co~n Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. ©2011 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal 6r 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. ~ gournal of Catholic Spirirualit)j Celebrating 70 Years Editor Associate Editor Book Review Editor Scripture Scope Editorial Staff Michael G. Harter SJ Garth L. Hallett SJ RosemaryJermann Eugene Hensell OSB Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm .Judy Sharp Advisory Board Paul Coutinho SJ Martin Erspamer OSB Margaret Guider OSF Kathleen Hughes RSCJ Louis and Angela Menard Bishop Terry Steib SVD QUARTERLY 70.4 2011 contents 340 prisms Prisms 342 364 .377 unique approaches A Tale of Two Scandals: Cornelia Connelly as Nouvelle H~loi'se Barbara Newman tells the remarkably similar stories of two married women who lived six centuries apart, became nuns and then abbesses only through the instigation of their husbands, suffered considerably, and faced numerous canonical difficulties in the founding of their orders. building community The Hum of Being: " Spirituality for Leadership Beatrice M. Eichten OSF describes the ministry of community leadership as a pilgrimage and explores the various spiritual realizations that flow from it--such as the openness to Spirit that comes through moments of emptiness and detachment, and the gifts of loving and being loved. Architecture and Religious Life Thomas A. Krosnicki SVD discusses the impact that the architectural design of buildings--in particular community residences--can have to the benefit of religious life and those they touch by their life and ministry. Review for Religious 386 404 408 .422 426 focus on Joseph Be Saints: Pathway to a Holy Life Joel Giallanza CSC gathers wisdom from St. Andr~ Bessette, whose name is forever linked to that of St. Joseph because of their obvious similarities. Both were simple laborers through whom God chose to do extraordinary things; both knew poverty and suffering; both experienced exile. Above all, both point out a pathway to holiness because they remained faithful to whatever God asked of them. St. Joseph in Focus: Husband of Mary and Guardian of Jesus John M. Samaha SM reminds us why we honor St. Joseph by giving us a simple portrait of the quiet, often overlooked member of the Holy Family. potpourri Lighting Our Modern Spirit: Pope John Paul II's Luminous Mysteries Carey Ellen Walsh explores the theology and the spiritual gift of John Paul II's meditation on the rosary in his apostolic letter Rosarium Virginis Mariae. She focuses on how one of John Paul II's most intimate reflections tends to the hunger in our souls. Multiple Sclerosis: A Gift Marian D. Frantz IHM reflects on how she has coped with multiple sclerosis and, in spite of the physical challenges and fears that accompany it, has come to understand it as a gift. Cremation: A Path to Protect Mother Earth Brian Jordan OFM calls us to rethink our attitudes and practices about how we remember our loved ones through burial or cremation and to develop an attitude of reverence for "Holy Mother Earth" in the process. departments 433 Scripture Scope: The Bible and the Liturgy 438 Book Reviews 444 Indexes 70.4 2011 prisms Erone intense week at the end of the summer, the population of Madrid swelled by more than one million souls. Crowds of young men and women came with the devotion of pil-grims; they participated in workshops and service projects; they baked in the heat, endured a rain-soaked and windswept prayer vigil, and coped with the chaos resulting from poor organization. They sang and prayed together, and blogged about their experiences all over the Internet. Such enthusiasm. Such energy. It all brought back memories of an earlier World Youth Day when I accompanied a group of Jesuit novices to Toronto in 2002. We, too, gath-ered with hopes and dreams, coped with crowds and long waits for something to eat. We, too, spent a restless night on the hard ground soaked through by a cold rain waiting for the final Mass celebrated by the pope. Drenched to the bone, I kept asking myself "What am I doing here?" But the enthusiastic singing of the young people drowned out the question. But I must be realistic. M}- perspective is not that of a young pilgrim. I just sent out invitations for a celebration of my golden Jubilee as a Jesuit. My novitiate classmates and others celebrating Review for Religious anniversaries of entrance and ordination (25, 50, 60, and 70 years of presence and service) are planning on celebrat-ing because we have much to celebrate. We have worked and taught, and borne the heat of the day in many different contexts. But as I look back on 50 years of religious life, I must admit that I have asked more than once "What am I doing here?" Sometimes the question arises because I feel too insignificant to make a difference. More often the ques-tion arises from a sense of wonder and awe about the ways God has chosen to work through me. My choice to enter religious life was well intentioned, but made with total naivet& The ministry for which I pre-pared myself (teaching high school) never materialized. The skills I learned in the process, however, equipped me to serve as an administrator, a forinator, and an editor. Through the years and with much prayer, I have tried to make myself available to be sent where I can best be used. I am privileged once again to live with our young men in formation. Their energy can wear me out, but their enthusiasm is contagious. They show that the church is ever young, ever new, always ready to grow in experience and wisdom. The seeds of faith are sprouting anew in many places. And in other pl~ces fields that have been harvested any number of times still produce with God's grace. The young pilgrims have now returned home from Madrid and are back in school or settling into their regular routines. But the memories and graces they carry with them will make their lives anything but routine. And as those of us further along the age continuum continue our trust walk with the One who has always accompanied us, we take to heart the prayer with which Benedict sent forth the young people from Madrid: "May no adversity paralyze you. Be afraid neither of the world, nor of the future, nor of your weakness." 341 Michael G. Harter SJ 70.4 2011 BARBARA NEWMAN A Tale of Two Scandals: Cornelia Connelly as Nouvelle Hdlo~se unique approaches 342 This is a tale of two scandals. It is a story of two women who courageously defied con-vention, yet submitted tragically and without reserve to the men they loved. It is a story of two ambitious and charismatic men, whose meteoric rise in the church was surpassed only by the suddenness of their fall. It is a story of two priests married to nuns--and not only nuns, but the founders of congregations-- who remained indelibly married in the public eye. From Romanesque France to Victorian England, so much had changed yet so much remained the same, especially where female subordination was concerned. So, finally, this is a story about the longue durde in Catholic attitudes to marriage, gender, and women's religious life. Barbara Newman is professor of English, Religion, and Classics at Northwestern University. Her address is Northwestern University; University Hall 215; 1897 Sheridan Rd.; Evanston, IL 60208. Reviev2 for Religious My first, more familiar narrative concerns a Frenchwoman born around 1100. Heloise, of high though illegitimate birth, received a superb educa-tion at the convent of Argenteuil. Raised by her uncle Fulbert, she was granted the rare privilege of private lessons with a famous philosopher, Peter Abelard, who was teaching in Paris. We all know what happened next: Abelard and his pupil fell in love. Their steamy affair ended in Heloise's pregnancy, Fulbert's horrified rage, a clandestine marriage, Heloise's rash denial of the union, and Abelard's castration at the hands of Fulbert's hit men. Given the fame of both lovers, the end of their :affair was a cause cglkbre. Finding the pity of his stu-dents even harder to bear than the scorn of his ene-mies, Abelard became a monk at Saint-Denis, though not before compelling a reluctant but obedient Heloise to take the veil at Argenteuil. Their son Astralabe was left with Abelard's sister on a farm in Brittany.~ But the lovers' conversion to religious life fueled more scandals. Abelard, who did not suffer fools gladly, had a gift for making enemies. At Saint-Denis, his 'historical research threatened to deconstruct the monks' patron saint, who also happened to be the patron of the French monarchy. This controversy led to cries of treason and landed Abelard in such trouble that he had to flee by night. Next he ~tried the vocation of hermit, :for which he was totally ufisuited, and soon wound up teaching again at a new foundation he called the Paraclete. Here too he got in trouble, partly because his ever-vigilant enemies objected to his oratory's dedication. In .the meantime, Abelard was charged with heresy at the Council of Soissons and forced in 1121 to burn his book on the Trinity with his own hands. Eventually he managed to be named abbot of the backwater monastery of Saint- 70.4 2011 Newman ¯ A Tale of Two Scandals 344 Gildas, in his native Brittany, but fared no better there. By his own account, his monks tried to kill him with a poisoned chalice. Heloise too was dogged by scandal. Despite her past, she was elected prioress of Argenteuil. But in 1129 the powerful Suger--abbot of Saint-Denis and no friend to Abelard--had Heloise and her nuns evicted on charges of immorality. These charges may or may not have car-ried a grain of truth. It is possible that Heloise's regime was lax, though it is certain that Suger had his eye on the nuns' property; and he mobilized the king, the bish-ops, and the papal legate to enforce his takeover.2 At this juncture Abelard reentered the picture, offering the nuns his now-vacant oratory of the Paraclete. Gossip contin-ued to buzz: if Abelard visited, detractors claimed that he could not live without his mistress, while if he stayed away, they charged that he had abandoned his wife. A few years later, when he published his autobiography, Heloise responded with impassioned fury, lambasting his neglect at the same time that she avowed her undimin-ished desire. But despite the stormy beginning of their correspondence, the two eventually made peace. Abelard endorsed Heloise's teaching role and warmly praised her learning. At her request he wrote numerous works for her nuns.3 Not least, he authored a rule for the Paraclete, although it seems not to have been observed and signifi-cantly contradicts Heloise's own rule--a point' to which I shall return. When Abelard was again condemned for heresy in 1140, by an even more blatantly rigged council, it was Heloise who secured proof of his absolution and arranged for his burial, soon afterward, at the Paraclete. Surviving him by twenty years, she was.buried at his side. My second narrative belongs to the nineteenth cen-tury. Cornelia Peacock, born to an elite Philadelphia family in 1809, lost her parents in childhood.4 Raised by an aunt who gave her a superb private education, at 22 she married a clergyman, Pierce Connelly. The Connellys moved in 1831 to Natchez, Mississippi, where Pierce had been named rector of an Episcopal parish. At the birth of their son Mercer, his godfather gave Cornelia a slave as a christening present.5 Though Pierce was well-liked in his parish, the honeymoon did not last. Caught up in a wave of anti-Catholic senti-ment sweeping the nation, he decided to resist it and better inform himself, with the surprising result that he felt called to convert. Cornelia, though shocked at first, loyally followed. As she wrote to her sister, "against my prejudices and in spite of the horrors which I have always nurtured for the Catholic faith, I am ready at once to submit to whatever my loved husband believes to be the path of duty.''6 In fact, after Pierce resigned his parish and delivered his farewell sermon, Cornelia was the first to be received as a Roman Catholic. Pierce waited to make his abjuration in Rome itself, on Palm Sunday 1836, with pomp and ceremony. The Connellys soon became the darlings of the British recusant aris-tocracy in Rome, where they remained until a finan-cial crisis forced them to return home and look for work. Pierce found a teaching post at a Jesuit school in Louisiana; Cornelia joined him as a music teacher. By now the couple had four children, but one daughter died in infancy and their two-year-old son met with a tragic accident. Fearing that her happiness was too great, the devout Cornelia had asked God to demand some sacrifice of her. Only a day later the little boy, playing with the dog, tumbled into a vat of boiling syrup.7 After two days and nights of agony, he died in his mother's arms. 70.4 2011 Newman ¯ A Tale of Two Scandals But this was only the first of Cornelia's sorrows. Soon afterward, while she was pregnant with their fifth and last child, Pierce announced that he had discerned a call to the Catholic priesthood. This time Cornelia did resist, but as soon as she realized how serious her husband was, she released him, which entailed her own consent to a monastic vocation. Returning to Rome, the couple had a private audience with Pope Gregory xvI, and Pierce was ordained with surprising speed in 1845. As for Cornelia, she became a postulant at the Sacred Heart convent of Trinit~ dei Monti, bringing her two youngest children with her. But she was not destined to take vows there. In 1846 Bishop Nicholas Wiseman, soon to become Cardinal Archbishop of Westminster, called Cornelia to England, where he wished her to found an order of nuns to educate English Catholic girls. Thus, before the end of her novitiate, the 3 7-year-old Cornelia Connelly, American wife and mother of three, became--not of her own accord, but by the deci-sions of her husband and her bishop--the first English monastic foundress in two hundred years. At this point the Connelly saga becomes so tumultu-ous that I can give only the barest summary. Cornelia's Society of the Holy Child Jesus (SHCJ) suffered more than its share of growing pains--lack of resources, litigation over property, internal discord, hostile chap-lains, and increasing strain between Cornelia and her superior, Cardinal Wiseman. These troubles were compounded by the "no Popery" agitation of a ,public deeply-fearful of Catholic emancipation. Mat Cornelia had least expected, however, was Pierce's rapid disil-lusionment with his new faith. Unsuccessftil in his bids for advancement in the church, ihe missed his wife and resented Wiseman's ban :on conjugal visits. So the frus- Review for Religious trated Pierce made two hostile, if contradictory, moves in quick succession. First, he wrote a spurious rule for Cornelia's order, which he circulated in Rome without her knowledge. Second, he pulled the children out of their schools and took 'them to Italy as hostages, with a new demand that Cornelia renounce her vows and return to him. Heartbroken but determined, she refused. The apostate Pierce thereupon sued his former wife in the Court of Arches for restitu-tion of his conjugal rights.8 The case of Connelly v. Connelly dragged on from 1849 to 1851, much to the glee of journalists.9 In 1850 a judge ruled in Pierce's favor, declaring that a papal~decree of separation had no force in England and leaving Cornelia to face imprisonment or a . forced return to her husband. While appealing to the Privy Council, she kept a suit of secular clothes in her cell at all times in case she had to flee the realm. Pierce meanwhile scandalized British Catholics with his apos-tasy, even seeking refuge for a time with the fanati-cally anti-Catholic Henry Drummond, a wealthy peer who led an apocalyptic sect. Eventually he returned to Italy, where he spent the rest of his life writing anti- Catholic tracts and serving as an Episcopal minister in Florence. Cornelia won her appeal on a technicality, but she never saw her eldest son again, for Mercer died at twenty of yellow fever. The younger children, Before~ the end of her novitiate, Cornelia Connelly, American wife and mother of three, became the first English monastic foundress in two hundred years. 347 70.4 2011 Newman ¯ A Tale of Two Scandal~ Adeline and Frank, remained with their father in Italy. He managed to estrange them permanently from their mother, returning her letters unopened. But in spite of all this, the Society of the Holy Child Jesus flour-ished. At Cornelia's death in 1879 it had six convents and schools in England, three in America, and one in France.~° Amazingly, Cornelia Connelly's case for saint-hood was opened in 1959, and in 1992 she was declared Venerable--the first step toward canonization. The Positio or formal presentation of her case is the first in history to be written by a woman.~ Since no one has ever proposed Heloise for saint-hood, except in the cult of romantic love, why do I call Cornelia Connelly a nouvelle Hgloi'se? I suggest this com-parison to probe more deeply into the case of a woman who filled the roles of wife, mother, nun, and abbess, not in succession but in conflict. Legions of women have become religiously active in widowhood, but few if any have faced down so public a scandal caused by living husbands, while simultaneously trying to establish their monastic authority. In the rest of this article, I will compare Cornelia's struggles with Heloise's apropos of three issues: sexuality, motherhood, and the authority of an abbess. In the France of the trouvOres, one could speak of sex more freely than in Queen Victoria's Britain, but Heloise would have been scandalous in any age. To dis-suade Abelard from their ill-starred marriage, she made a case for free love, claiming that .she would rather be called his mistress'(arnica) than his wife--and even if Augustus, ruler of the world, had asked her to be his empress, she would prefer to be Abelard's whore (scortum)--a word she chose deliberately for its shock value.~2 In Heloise's eyes, the true prostitute was the Review for Religious respectable wife who married not for love, but for security and money. As if these ideas were not scandal-ous enough, after ten years as a nun she confessed that she still felt sexual yearnings, even during Mass, and declared that she could never forgive God for Abelard's castration.13 This was no mere private avowal, but a rhe-torical performance before an imagined if not actual public. Medieval letters were never truly "private," and contemporary documents show that Heloise's arguments were well known in French clerical circles.14 Romantics (including my younger self) have often been dismayed with Abelard for refusing to respond in kind.15 But how could he? Neither his castration nor the couple's vows were reversible, so Heloise had either to find a way of coping or face a lifetime of misery, ending in her damnation. Abelard thus faced the.unenviable task of cajoling her to love Christ, her new Bridegroom, in his stead. If his tactics seem ham-fisted to our age, in his own they were supremely pragmatic. When Heloise said that she would gladly follow Abelard to hell; that her "heart was never my own, but was always with you"; that in every decision she had sought to please him, rather than God--it was not from marital duty that she spoke.16 A self-consciously clas-sical lover, she even took the nun's veil with the cry of a pagan heroine on her lips.17 In Cornelia Connelly we see nothing of the. sort. If she too ended by trans-gressing her culture's cherished feminine ideals, it was not by her choice. Yet in displaying obedience to her beloved, she vied with Heloise. To please Pierce, she braved her family's disapproval; left home for the dis-tant, culturally alien South; abjured her Protestant faith (a drastic step in the 1830s); accepted a life of exile; and finally made the supreme sacrifice of her marriage itself, 349 70.4 2011 Newman ¯ A Tale of Two Scandals Where Heloise saw ,oppositiOn-; Cornelia saw con]'un ction:, L, vowing perpetual chastity so that Pierce could be ordained. But where Heloise saw opposition--she could obey either God's will or Abelard's, but not both-- Cornelia saw conjunction. As a dutiful Victorian wife, she followed the principle of Milton's Eve: "he for God only, she for God in him." In the end, Cornelia became a far more committed Catholic than the vain and shallow Pierce. Yet she would never have become one at all with, out the conviction that God was guiding her through her husband's will. As she wrote to her sister at the time, Pierce was "all that is estimable and far above what your sister ever deserved or looked for in her husband. It is not for me to praise him, but daily do I thank God for having so blessed me.''18 In entering religious life, both women faced the extraordinary challenge of renouncing their husbands' love at their husbands' bidding. When Heloise pro-claimed her immortal longing, Abelard commanded her to desire him no more, but rather the God who had castrated him. Cornelia confronted the same demand, except that Pierce's self-castration in will alone did not last. So in the end, having fallen genuinely in love with Christ, she had to fight her ex-husband in court to preserve a separation she had never wanted in the first place. Interestingly, it was Heloise who fared better in the court of public opinion. Abelard's friends and even some of his enemies sympathized with her, while later humanists like Jean de Meun and Petrarch admired her eloquence and uncompromising idealism29 Review for Religious Cornelia, on the other hand, fell afoul of both Catholic and Protestant sentiment. The English Catholic hier-archy, impoverished and terribly vulnerable, resented the scandal and expense of "Connelly v. Connelly." As for the Protestant majority, it eagerly believed Pierce's lies and blamed Cornelia for destroying her family. Caught between two patriarchies, faced with incompat-ible demands from husband and bishop, she could win neither public vindication nor private comfort. Her anguish is clearest--and the historical distance greatest--with respect to motherhood. We do not know what it cost Heloise to leave the infant Astralabe in Brittany, but upper-class women of her day often had their children fostered elsewhere, and it was not unusual for widowed mothers to enter monasteries. Moreover, we have good evidence that Heloise never envisaged moth-erhood as a career path. Before her marriage, she had even proposed a novel, feminist version of the old argu-ment that a philosopher should not wed. As she put it, "what husband could ever concentrate on philosophy or scripture and still put up with babies howling. ? What wife could stand the endless mess of children?''2° Later, in her letters of complaint, she never mentions her son's absence among her sorrows. Her only reference to him comes in a letter written after Abelard's death, asking the abbot of Cluny to find the young man a prebend.21 We do not know for certain what became of Astralabe,22 nor did contemporaries care, for motherhood in the twelfth century was not an admired vocation. St. Jerome, often quoted by Abelard and Heloise, had zealously praised mothers who steeled themselves against their children's cries to "become virile" and serve God alone:23 Seven centuries later, wives were no less subordinate to husbands, but the ideal of motherhood had changed 70.4 2011 Newman ¯ A Tale of Two Scandals utterly. Hence nothing hurt Cornelia's reputation more than the belief, fostered by Pierce, that she had willfully abandoned her children. An anti-Catholic pamphlet in 1853 put it this way: "When Rome once depraves the heart, or bows the will, . . . the fountain of all natural affection has been, by priestly art, so dried up within her--as that she can forget her children whom she has borne, as well as the husband whom she has sworn, before God, to obey.''24 But Cornelia had never con-sented to Pierce's abduction of their children. As soon as she realized that he was using them to blackmail her, however, she swore a solemn vow: "In union with my crucified Lord and by His most precious blood, in ado-ration satisfaction thanksgiving and petition, I, Cornelia, vow to have no future intercourse with my children and their Father beyond what is for the greater Glory of God and His manifest will, known through my direc-tor.'' 2s A few letters to relatives reveal the agony this cost her. In 1854 she wrote to her brother that, initially, "my dear children were as much under my eyes as if I had not left the world till their father broke his word and his promises and stole them away from me. may God forgive him.''26 Four years later she lamented, "Poor dar-lings! I little thought of their having to suffer in this way, while I can do nothing to help them except by prayer."27 Under English law the children belonged to their father, so there was literally nothing Cornelia could do. In any case the church, in stark contrast with secular norms, still preserved its medieval legacy of valuing marital renunciation as the high road to perfection?8 The motif of the "maternal martyr" occurs so often in medieval hagiography that, if anyone had suggested sainthood for Heloise, her separation from Astralabe might actually have bolstered the case.29 Today, how- Review for Religious ever, the fate of the Connelly children poses a major obstacle to Cornelia's cause. It does not help that all three apostasized, though her daughter returned to the Catholic fold after both parents died. Cornelia's pro-moters., must therefore show that she bore the loss of her children as a cross, but--this is the key point--not a cho-sen cross.3° The postulator of her cause did try to revive the maternal martyr topos, citing Jeanne de Chantal as an exemplary saint who demonstrated "heroic virtue" by stepping over her son's protesting body as she departed for the cloister.3~ But most of Cornelia's advocates have shied away from this theme. Her biographers instead link her devotions to the Holy Child Jesus and to Mary, Mother of Sorrows, with her son's tragic death. This dimension of her spiritual life was incomparably deep-ened by the loss of her other children, though her work as a pioneer in girls' education compensated in some degree for the sadness of her own motherhood.32 Finally, I turn to the less sensational domain of reli-gious rules, which define a nun's mission and daily life, because both foundresses had to cope with problem-atic rules composed for them by their former husbands. Heloise had explicitly asked Abelard to create a rule, writing deferentially that "you, through God, are the planter of our congregation, and you, with God, should be the guide of our religious life.''33 Abelard complied, though the lengthy document he produced is an eclectic farrago of the Benedictine Rule, the desert fathers, pas-sages from Jerome, Augustine, and .Gregory the Great, and a few provisions specific to Heloise.34 Differences between this text and her own, more practical rule prolonged an old controversy over the authenticity of Heloise's letters.35 Some of the discrepancies concern fairly small matters, but the most important involve 70.4 2011 Newman * A Tale of Two Scandals lines of authority. On this subject the two rules cannot be reconciled.36 Abelard was profoundly conflicted about gender. Like every cleric of his age, he could toss off slight-ing remarks about the "weaker sex" and denounce abbesses who presumed to govern their nuns--or even monks--without male superiors. Yet in his treatise on the dignity of nuns, he pro-duced the most significant "pro-feminine" tract of the era.37 Some scholars have discerned a gradual con-version to feminism where others see only unresolved tension, but in any case, "~ Abelard's rule for Heloise is so ambivalent as to be unworkable.38 One reason is that he envisages a double community of monks and nuns, an arrangement that was common elsewhere but never established at the Paraclete. On the one hand, the whole community should have a male head or pro-vost, but on the other, both monks and nuns should profess obedience to the female head. Abelard calls her not "abbess" but "deaconess," an exotic early Christian term. He compares the deaconess to a queen and the provost to her steward, who fulfills his lady's will in all things--save that he "declines in what may do her harm.''39 It is hard to see how such an arrangement could have worked in practice. As for Heloise, she might have been happy enough with Abelard himself as her superior. But Abelard was still the abbot of Saint-Gildas, and if he should pre-decease her--which he did--the authority could revert Abelard's rule for Helbis e: is so ambivalent as to ,- be unworkable,, Reviww for Religious to her old enemy Suger.4° So in fact, the Paraclete had no provost. Heloise styled herself abbess, a more pres-tigious title than "deaconess," and exercised the nor-mal authority of that role. Given Abelard's peripatetic life, his reputation for heresy, and his disastrous failure at Saint-Gildas, the Paraclete undoubtedly flourished under her leadership as it could never have done under his. In fact, despite her unwilling entrance into religious life, Heloise proved highly successful as both monastic reformer and administrator. Before her death in 1163, six daughter houses had been founded or attached to the Paraclete, and its property holdings were vast.41 In addi-tion to glowing letters of praise from contemporaries, the popularity of the name "Heloise" in the next gen-eration testifies to the esteem in which she was held.42 Despite the troubles Abelard and Heloise faced in reinventing their relationship, both had a deep integ-rity. Abelard could be intransigent, but he did not lie, and Heloise's gift for placating superiors equaled his for antagonizing them. Thus she was able to attain the sup-port she needed from popes, bishops, lay patrons, and powerful abbots. Cornelia, to her cost, lacked these advantages. On the one hand, she had to endure Pierce's outright treachery, and on the other, a long series of conflicts marred her relations with hierarchs. Less than two years after she founded the first Holy Child convent at Derby, Pierce circulated a rule of his own composi-tion in Rome, prefaced by a claim that "the good Lord had long inspired in [him] the desire to found a little Congregation, with the help of a holy person well known to me and quite obedient (bien docile) to me.''43 But this was far from the case. When she learned of his act several months later, she sent off an indignant protest disavowing any changes he had made to her rule. Nevertheless, the 70.4 2011 Newman ¯ A Tale of Two Scandals spurious text created so much confusion that at Cornelia's death, her own rule was still not approved. A year later, Pierce was claiming that the Derby convent was "worse than . . . a brothel," hence his first duty was "to rescue my blessed wife from the hands of devils.''44 With a lethal combination of lawsuits, apostasy, anti-Catholic propa-ganda, and his fraudulent rule, Pierce had made it nearly impossible for Cornelia to succeed in the vocation to which his own choice had driven her. It did not help that she and Cardinal Wiseman had a falling-out. Concerned that the Connelly scandal was making the church a laughingstock, Wiseman felt a need for rest and proposed that one wing of Cornelia's new convent in Sussex be converted to a seaside residence for his own use. Fearful of yet more scandal, Cornelia said no, infuriating her old ally. Hence Wiseman refused to support her pleas in Rome, where the authorities stud-ied both Cornelia's and Pierce's rules for years without action, still not realizing why they differed. The English bishops meanwhile dragged their feet, refusing to let the Holy Child nuns hold a general chapter to elect superi-ors. Wiseman insisted that the subsidiary houses should be canonically separate, rather than subject to the mother house4S--a disempowering move that Heloise, in her day, had managed to resist. The final blow came in 1874 when Bishop Danell of Southwark, Cornelia's immediate supe-rior, presented the nuns with a third rule that he himself had written, imposing a hopelessly complex system of governance. Without warning, he insisted that they set their rule aside and observe his for a "trial period" of three years.46 At the end of this time they begged Danell to restore their old rule--beginning with the youngest nun, who declared, "My Lord, it seems to me that the new Rule has been drawn up to correct abuses which Review for Religious never existed, and it does not lead us to love and obey our Superiors.''47 All agreed except Cornelia, who remained stonily silent in humility--or despair. But Danell refused their plea and imposed another three-year trial period, at the end of which the foundress died, her life and work in a shambles. It was not until Pierce's death four years later that Cornelia's rule could again be considered in Rome. Ten years after that, in 1893, it was approved in its original, unaltered form.4s To conclude, then--was Cornelia Connelly a nouvelle Hdloise? The real Heloise, who so vividly imagined her-self as a tragic heroine, turns out to have led a less tragic life than Cornelia. Successful abbess though she was, no churchman could call Heloise a saint. Not only did she defend illicit love and confess to religious hypocrisy, but by the standards that count, she didn't suffer enough-- or at least, not for the right reasons. Though she por-trayed herself as a martyr of love, she recovered from a devastating crisis to be reconciled with her beloved, win the esteem and admiration of her peers, and leave a lasting monastic legacy. But Cornelia--or should I say, the Venerable Cornelia--attained martyrdom on three fronts. As I have shown, she perfecdy fulfilled the medieval type of the maternal martyr, suffering the loss of five children through no fault of her own--three to premature death and three to her husband's perfidy, if we count Mercer twice. We can also call her a "mar-tyr of marriage," like other medieval saints who suf-fered at the hands of brutish husbands. The Connellys might have lived happily ever after if they had remained Protestant--but Pierce's short-lived infatuation with the Catholic Church decreed otherwise. Having first prod-ded his wife toward conversion, he would soon become her relentless persecutor, goading her toward sainthood. 70.4 2011 Newman * A Tale of Two Scandals Finally, Cornelia can be seen as a martyr of the church itself, having suffered nearly as much at the hands of bishops as of her husband. Admittedly, I have had to sim-plify her long, complicated tale. A full and fair account would not gloss over the abrasive side of her character-- or the odd moments of silence where resistance might have been more apt. It would also dwell on the unique difficulties attending the restoration of Catholic reli-gious life in Protestant England.49 Nonetheless, it seems strange that the defiant Heloise won more clerical favor in the twelfth century than the submissive Cornelia in the nineteenth. For twenty-five years after her death, her name remained under a cloud even among her nuns, who felt that the Society's goals were best served by silenc-ing their founder's scandalous memory,s° Returning to the longue durge, however, persecution has shadowed the church's most celebrated reformers; I need only mention Teresa of Avila, John of the Cross, and Ignatius Loyola. If not a sine qua non for sainthood, it certainly helps. After all, Cornelia's long-suffering precursor in the sev-enteenth century, the Yorkshire foundress Mary Ward, was declared Venerable only a year ago. In each case, it remains to be seen if time, perseverance, and changing attitudes toward women will finally smooth the path from scandal to sanctity. Notes ~ These events are known to us from Abelard's autobiogra-phy, Historia calamitatum, and his subsequent exchange of let-ters with Heloise. I have cited these from the new translation by William Levitan, Abelard and Heloise: The Letters and Other Writings (Indianapolis: Hackett, 2007). ~ M.T. Clanchy, Abelard: A Medieval Life (Oxford: Blackwell, 1997), p. 152. 3 The treatise on the dignity of nuns is Abelard's "Sixth Letter" Review for Religious , in Levitan, pp. 127-69. For his hymns see Joseph Sz6v~rffy, ed., Peter Abelard's Hymnarius Paraclitensis, 2 vols. (Albany, NY: Classical Folia Editions, 1975); a few are translated in Levitan. The Problemata Heloissae (Heloise's questions on Scripture, with Abelard's replies) can be found in J.-P. Migne, ed., Patrologia.Latina 178: 677-730, and his Expositio in Hexaemeron (a Genesis commentary) in PL 178: 731-84. For the sermons see Paola De Santis, ed., I sermoni di Abelardo per le monache del Paracleto (Leuven: Leuven University Press, 2002). 4 There are now eight biographies of Cornelia Connelly, all but one by members of her Society. I have used the only account by a laywoman: Juliana Wadham, The Case of Cornelia Connelly (New York: Pantheon, 1'957), and Radegunde Flaxman SHCJ, A Woman Styled Bold: The Life of Cornelia Connelly, 1809-1879 (London: Darton, Longrnan and Todd, 1991). I have also consulted an excellent biog-raphy of her husband by D. G. Paz, The Priesthoods and Apostasies of Pierce Connelly: A Study of Victorian Conversion and Anticatholicism (Lewiston, NY: Edwin Mellen, 1986). For a novelistic account see Sheila Kaye-Smith, Quartet in Heaven (New York: Harper & Bros., 1952), pp. 57-122. s Flaxman, A Woman Styled Bold, p. 18. 6 Cornelia Connelly to Adeline Duval, letter of 17 Oct. 1835, cited in Mother Ursula Blake et al., Positio: Documentary Study for the Canonization Process of the Servant of God Cornelia Connelly (nge Peacock), 1809-1879, 3 vols. (Rome: Sacred Congregation for the Causes of Saints, 1983), I: 79. 7 Flaxman, A Woman Styled BoM, pp. 72-73. 8 This was an ecclesiastical court that, until 1857, ruled on mat-rimonial cases under English canon law. Divorces granted by this court did not permit remarriage. Otherwise, the only way to obtain a divorce was by private Act of Parliament. Positio I: 330. 9 Brendan Larnen's play about the trial, Connelly vs. Connelly (New York: Blackfriars' Guild, 1961), was staged in New York and Los Angeles fifty years ago. See Kenneth L. Woodward, Making Saints: How the Catholic Church Determines Who Becomes a Saint, Who Doesn't, and Why (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1990), p. 267. 1o The Life of Cornelia Connelly, 1809-1879, Foundress of the Society of the Holy Child Jesus, by A Religious of the Society [Mary Catherine Gompertz] (London: Longrnans, Green & Co., 1930), p. 257. As of 1952, at the height of the Catholic educational system, the Society had established four additional schools and convents in England (including Oxford and Harrogate), three in Ireland, one in Switzerland, one in Rome, six in Africa, and twenty-two in the 70.4 2011 Newman ¯ A Tale of Two Scandals U.S. Kaye-Smith, Quartet in Heaven, p. 118. Many of these are now closed, but the Society has further expanded into Germany and Latin America. See the SHCJ website, http://shcj.org/today_ministries.html ii Woodward, Making Saints, p. 253. The author is Sister Elizabeth Mary Strub, former superior general of the SHCJ. ~2 As recalled by Abelard in Historia calamitatum ("The Calamities of Peter Abelard"), trans. Levitan, p. 17; Heloise, First Letter, in Levitan, pp. 55-56. 13 Third Letter (in the collection, i.e, the second from Heloise), Levitan, pp. 78-79. 14 Giles Consta~ble, Letters and Letter-Collections, Typologie des sources du Moyen Age occidental, p. 17 (Turnhout: Brepols, 1976); Peter Dronke, Abelard and Heloise in Medieval Testimonies (Glasgow: University of Glasgow Press, 1976). 15 Barbara Newman, "Authority, Authenticity, and the Repression of Heloise," in Front Virile Woman to WomanChrist: Studies in Medieval Religion and Literature (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1995), pp. 46-75 (pp. 73-74). 16 Heloise, First Letter, p. 61; Third Letter, p. 81 17 According to Abelard, Heloise tearfully declaimed the lament of Cornelia, the wife of Pompey, from Lucan's Pharsalia--"and with these words, she rushed to the altar, snatched up the veil which the bishop had just blessed, and bound herself to the convent in the pres-ence'of all." Historia calamitatum, in Levitan, p. 20. 18 Cornelia Connelly to Adeline Dural, letter of 17 Oct. 1835, in Positio, I: 81. ¯ 19 The letters of Abelard and Heloise were popularized by the poet Jean de Meun, who translated them into French: Eric Hicks, ed., La vie et les epistres Pierres Abaelart et Heloys sa fame: Traduction du XIIIe siOcle attribude i~ Jean de Meun (Paris: Champion, 1991). More famously, he incorporated the lovers' tale into his bestrselling Roman de la Rose, which remained by far the best-known version until mod-ern times. z0 Abelard, Historia calamitamm, in Levitan, p. 15. Abelard cites Heloise in direct speech; she was in turn paraphrasing Jerome's trea-tise Adversus Jovinianum (393), and Jerome was citing a lost anti-matrimonial tract by the pagan Theophrastus, sometimes called "The Golden Book on Marriage." Theophrastus, Jerome, and their numerous medieval heirs all argued that a wise man should not marry; only Heloise extended this counsel to women, as I first noted in "Authority, Authenticity," p. 67. This grammatical nuance was Review for Religious overlooked in the classic translation by Betty Radice, The Letters of Abelard and Heloise (Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1974; rev. ed. 2003), p. 14; Levitan corrects the error. 2, Heloise, letter to Peter the Venerable, abbot of Cluny, ca. 1144-49, in Levitan, p. 273. 2z He probably became a cathedral canon in Nantes, and may later have been a Cistercian abbot at Hauterive: Levitan, Abelard and Hgloi'se, p. 13, n. 26. Abelard wrote a lengthy didactic poem for him, the Carmen ad Astralabium, ed. Jos~ Rubingh-Bosscher (Groningen, 1987). 23 Barbara Newman, "'Crueel Corage': Child Sacrifice and the Maternal Martyr in Hagiography and Romance," in From Virile Woman to WomanChrist, pp. 76-107 (p. 81). 24 Thomas Hatchard, Case of the Rev. Pierce Connelly, 2nd ed. (London, 1853), cited in Judith Lancaster SHCJ, Cornelia Connelly and Her Interpreters (Oxford: Way Books, 2004), p. 250. 25 Notebook of Cornelia Connelly, 21 January 1848, in Positio I: 298. 26 Cornelia Connelly to Ralph Peacock, letter of 1854, in Lancaster, Cornelia Connelly, p. 274. 27 Cornelia Connelly to Ralph Peacock, letter of 18 November 1858, in Lancaster, Cornelia Connelly, p. 274. For a moving treatment of Cornelia's feelings about this loss, see Dorothy Bryant, '!Keeping Vows: Cornelia Connelly (1809-1879)," in Last Words: Imaginary Letters from Real People (2010). Online at http://www.dorothybryant. com/LastWords.html 2s Caritas McCarthy SHCJ, The Spirituality of Cornelia Connelly: In God, For God, With God (Lewiston, NY: Edwin Mellen, 1986), pp. 73-80. For the history of this idea see Dyan Elliott, Spiritual Marriage: Sexual Abstinence in Medieval Wedlock (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1993). 29 See Newman, "'Crueel Corage': Child Sacrifice and the Maternal Martyr." 3o Woodward, Making Saints, pp. 268-70. 3~ Woodward, Making Saints, p. 271. 32 McCarthy, Spirituality; Roseanne McDougall SHCJ, Cornelia Connelly's Innovations in Female Education, 1846-1864: Revolutionizing the School Curriculum for Girls (Lewiston, NY: Edwin Mellen, 2008). 33 Heloise, Fifth Letter, in Levitan, p. 126. 34 Abelard, Seventh Letter, in Levitan, pp. 170-255. 361 70.4 201 ! Newman ¯ A Tale of Two Scandals 3s For Heloise's rule see Chrysogonus Waddell, ed., The Paraclete Statutes, Institutiones Nostrae: Introduction, Edition, Commentary (Trappist, KY: Gethsemani Abbey, 1987). On the discrepan-cies see John E Benton, "Fraud, Fiction and Borrowing in the Correspondence of Abelard and Heloise," in Pierre Ab(lard--Pierre le Vgngrable: Les courants philosophiques, littgraires, et artistiques en Occident au milieu du XIIe sikcle, ed. Ren~ Louis and Jean Jolivet (Paris: l~.ditions du Centre National de la Recherche Scientifique, 1975), pp. 469-506 (p. 474). In 1980 Benton retracted his arguments for the inauthenticity of the letters. 36 For discussion see Enid McLeod, H?loi'se: A Biography, 2nd ed. (London: Chatto & Windus, 1971), pp. 219-24; Clanchy, Abelard, pp. 251-60. Heloise's biographer states that she "worked entirely in har-mony with Abailard's wishes" (p. 222), though not slavishly. Abelard's more skeptical biographer says she "ignored" his rule (p. 258). 37 Mary Martin McLaughlin, "Peter Abelard and the Dignity of Women: Twelfth Century 'Feminism' in Theory and Practice," in Pierre Ab3lard--Pierre le V3n3rable, pp. 287-333; Mcuin Blamires, The Case for Women in Medieval Culture (Oxford: Clarendon, 1997), pp. 199-207. 38 See my "Flaws in the Golden Bowl: Gender and Spiritual Formation in the Twelfth Century," in From Virile Woman to WomanCbrist, pp. 19-45 (p. 27). 39 Abelard, Seventh Letter, in Levitan, p. 198. ~0 Clanchy, Abelard, p. 258. 41 McLeod, Hiloi'se, pp. 210-219. 42 Penelope D. Johnson, Equal in Monastic Profession: Religious VVomen in Medieval France (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1991), p. 234. 43 "Memorial of the Rev. Pierce Connelly to the S. Cong. de Propaganda Fide," 10 February 1848, in Positio 1:299. The original is in French; English translation mine. 44 Pierce Connelly to the Earl of Shrewsbury, letter of 28 Dec. 1848, in Positio I: 307. 45 Wadham, Case of Cornelia Connelly, p. 226. 46 Not only did Danell style himself "Bishop Superior of the Institute"; he also sent his rule to the order's American houses with no explanation. Left in the dark, the U.S. sisters assumed that the new rule was Cornelia's high-handed innovation and refused to obey it, provoking a schism. Review for Religious 47 Gompertz, Life of Cornelia Connelly, p. 235. 48 Gompertz, Life of Cornelia Connelly, pp. 248-250. 49 Susan O'Brien, "Terra Incognita: The Nun in Nineteenth- Century England," Past dr Present, 121 (November 1988), pp. 110-140. so Lancaster, Cornelia Connelly and Her Interpreters, pp. 51-55. Palimpsest Recycling isn't new. When writing was serious, words were costly, vellum was scrubbed, papyrus washed, reused. Sometimes earlier uncials appear in ghostly outline. A Syriac text of Chrysostom reveals a Latin grammar: amo, amas, amat. What comes to articulation has layers beneath the surface deeper than words, runic letters in languages we don't quite understand. Bonnie Thurston 363 70.4 2011 building community BEATRICE M. EICHTEN The Hum of Being: Spirituality for Leadership At the beginning of his ministry, after hear-ing the heady proclamation that he is God's beloved Son, Jesus is plunged into a desert experience. He is tempted by the devil, who invites him to have his physical needs met, to exercise power through the worldly skills of division and manipulation rather than forgive-ness and reconciliation, and to be safe from all unpleasant, negative experiences. Jesus is able to withstand these temptations because he knows who he is. In his baptism and prayer, the truth of Jesus' identity is revealed to him: he is the beloved of God, one in whom God takes pleasure. Knowing who he is, Jesus is able to face the tension between being loved and being hungry/needy, between being loved and being socially powerless, and between being loved and being safe from all negative experiences. 1 Beatrice M. Eichten OSF is community minister/presi-dent of the Franciscan Sisters of Little Falls, Minnesota. Her address is 116 8th Ave. SE; Little Falls, Minnesota 56345-3597. Review for Religiotts When we are elected to leadership in our religious community, we are called forth to fulfill a special role as both spiritual and organizational leader. Such a call is empowering as well as humbling. It is a moment of being loved, of being affirmed for our strengths, a moment of special promise. However, this moment gives way to many other moments, and we quickly learn, as we take on this new role, that we do not give up our vulnerability or foibles. We do not cease wanting to control and "manage" others "for their own good." Nor can we avoid criticism, negativity, or unpopularity because of decisions we must make. We come face-to-face with ourselves as we encounter new challenges in the ministry of leadership. Where do we in leadership go when we face chal-lenges, temptations, and limitations? We can adopt the mindset of working hard to live up to the idealized expectations of our culture and community, or we can trust our authentic selves--the truth that we are beloved daughters or sons who give pleasure to God in carrying out a leadership function. We can discover a spirituality of leadership by examining our ongoing response to the challenges, temptations, and limitations we encounter. When we come to our spiritual identity, when we know who we are, says John Shea, then our spiritual work begins. As it was for Jesus, coming to this knowl-edge is a co-working with God that engages the full-ness of the human person. Foundational to the process is metanoia, conversion, the change of mind and heart that occurs~when we come to know ourselves as open to Spirit. Conversion leads us to make ourselves accessible to God. We move beyond our sinfulness and limita-tions to knowing that we, like Jesus, bring pleasure to God. This is a fruit of prayer. We open ourselves "to 70.4 2011 Eicbten * The Hum of Being 366 receive what the Divine Source is waiting to give" (p. 99). Openness makes us ready to receive. God as God. Such openness comes in prayer, in the troubled sister, in vexing financial and administrative details, in the elderly and the sick, in the gifted ministry of so many of our members, in our team of ministry colleagues, in cre-ation, and on and on. Spirit enters into this world; we do not break into Spirit's world. God is always present; we are the ones invited to open ourselves to receive and to act from our deepest identity as beloved of and precious to God. Shea goes on to say that, though the origins and destiny of Spirit are mysterious, you are filled by the sound of it. It is the burn of being--present, vibrant, alive, now. You live by a spirit that is not you. Being born of this spirit is not an event "done and over." It is the "always-already- now" of life. It is the power of God liv-ing in you. Touch that ever so slightly in yourself and you will open to the teacher sent from God, and he will whisper things hidden since the foun-dation of the world, the things he has heard from his Father, the things he is yearning to tell you. He will entrust himself to you. (p. 86, emphasis added) This "hum of being" is "the vibration of pure exis-tence. It blows where it will because it is not produced by people . its origin and destiny cannot be traced, but we bear the sound of it. We know it because it is car-rying us away" (p. 94). Opening to Spirit The core of leadership ministry is spiritual leader-ship-- a way of being present to ourselves and to our God that informs and guides our organizational lead-ership. Spiritual leadership requires an openness and readiness to receive Spirit as she comes to us each day. Review for Religious "Spirit is shy," says Shea. "It does not want to compete with other allegiances. It wants open space, vacancies that it can move into without conflict. When we are detached, we wait in readiness . . . [with] hands empty and open" (p. 38). This calls for an emp-tiness with which we are often not comfort-able. It calls us to back away consciously from being overly busy, important, needed, in control, and responsi-ble. Shea suggests that it means being con-scious of our human dependence and vul- -°- - nerability, of the alienation that characterizes sin, and of the uncomfortable conversion that leads us to redemp-tion rather than isolation (pp. 141-42). Being attentive to our inner reality requires time to be engaged with our inner selves and with God. Wayne Muller says that "without stillness, without being pres-ent, we will miss the simple, quiet opportunities., to hear more accurately. We will miss the opening, the readiness, that place of grace waiting to be born.''2 Being quiet and present is a critical discipline and necessary attitude as we deal with the siren lure of daily demands and issues inherent in congregational leadership. Different personalities will attend to inner realities and find a life focus in different ways. One person's way of being open and attentive to God can, for another, be a "grit-your-teeth" effort. Joan Chittister OSB reminds us that even age does not have to be an "impediment Being quiet and present is a ~ri~tical discipline as we deal with the siren lure of daily demands and issues inherent in congregational leadership. 367 70.4 2011 Eicbten ¯ The Hum of Being 368 to the magnet for life in us.''3 When we discover what is the magnet of life for us, we will also discover clues to where we find the source of energy for our journey through life. Those clues can be particularly helpful for those in a leadership position. By knowing and trust-ing our way of being present to God, we will come to know the truth that "There are as many ways to pray as there are moments in life . In all these moments, [we] gradually make [our] lives more a prayer and . . . open [our] hands to be led by God even to where [we] would rather not go.''4 Inherent Call to Conversion Spiritual and communal leadership is an ongoing call to conversion. We begin with any of a wide range of attitudes: "It's my turn." "I am finally feeling ready." "Oh God, please not me!" "I am willing to serve and to offer my best." "If this is what God and the community want of me ." "This is how I will do leadership" . "This is what I will do to help community grow" . "This is what I will do to 'fix' the community . " Regardless of how we begin, we soon learn that this ministry is about entering into a way of life where, as an elected leader, we turn from the perspective of a mem-ber to a perspective that encompasses the whole com-munity. The position brings new responsibilities and a fresh awareness both of the community and of the local and global church. Community members express their varied expectations of leaders in titles that range from "Mother General" to "Servant Leader," but whatever the expectations, leadership is a way of life that calls for detachment and self-emptying? for becoming a channel for Spirit in the life and activities of the whole community. Review for Religious Leadership requires letting go of attachments, fre-quently of a beloved ministry. A move to a new location, may mean distance from family, friends, and colleagues. We often discover, painfully, that being called to lead-ership changes how friends and companions relate to us. We need to move from roles and responsibilities with which we have identified into those that may not be of our personal choice. How many of us have said, "Finances are not my thing"? Yet now we must carry major responsibility for financial stewardship of the congregation. We learn that even though we are vested with power in the community, we do not have full control over our schedule, our members, our decisions. I remember hear-ing a speaker say to a roomful of new leaders that they had control of their schedules and could schedule days off. Having been in leadership before, I almost laughed out loud, knowing how many days off or team plan-ning days had been cut short by a death or a commu-nity crisis. While congregations talk about "part-time" leadership, the fact is, once elected, we are never not an elected leader. Leadership ministry is full-time, is exercised whenever and however it is called for, and is a ministry around which we wrap part-time responsibili-ties as chaplain or pastoral minister or whatever. The position calls for detachment from personal and minis-try commitments in order to carry out leadership minis-try. It also calls for circumspection as we come to realize that everything we say and do reflects on "leadership"; personal opinions become "Leadership believes . " Response to the Call to Conversion We can fight against the inevitable demands for detachments or we can allow them to be invitations to 70.4 2011 Eicbten ¯ The Hum of Being go within, to come to deeper self-knowledge, to get in touch with our spiritual center. I remember fearing that leadership would move me into falsity and role-playing. Then I heard Angeles Arrien, a cultural anthropolo-gist, speak about the necessity for leaders to exercise "response-ability"--not responsibility as duty or obli-gation ("I have to . . ."), but as the ability to respond from one's authentic self ("I choose to . . ."). Such an understanding invites a freely given choice. Richard Nahman OSA, in a reflection on gospel spirituality,5 points out that the word "authority" comes from the same root as "author" and "authenticity." He poses some probing questions: "How authentic am I? . . . do I challenge myself, asking, 'Am I "selling" a heart-rending "product," or is the Word of God alive in me?'" His questions encourage us to ask our own: When is my action more about me than about service to my sis-ters and our mission in the church? In facing the daily challenges of leadership, do I aim to win or do I enter into the call to conversion? Am I reacting to a particular sister because of some past experience with her? Or am I able to step back and consider how I would respond to that same request or situation if it involved someone else? Do I need to control, or can I open myself to living with ambiguity and other ways of thinking? How am I dealing with stress? Am I numbing myself by eating or drinking too much? What am I avoiding? To whom am I accountable? Questions like these help keep us honest, invite us to face the challenges we encounter with open-ness to our personal blindness and need for conversion, and move us to prayer and reflection. Acting from Gift or Obligation? If we are serious about conversion, in leadership we Revie~v for Religious will come face to face with our inner self and our bodily reality--our truth in all its beauty and messiness--and will be invited to make a choice to live and minister out of a gift economy rather than an obligation economy. God is gifting me with this opportunity. Can I offer my ministry out of a generous abundance, or do I move into resentment because I "have to do it"? Can I own the reality that leadership does involve some "have tos" and do them graciously rather than grudgingly? How approach a situation shapes how I enter into it and how others experience me in it. None of us is perfect; nor is anyone the perfect leader. But a leader is invited to go beyond duty or obligation and make a choice for life, a choice to love and to serve the com-munity members out of love. This, I believe, is a choice for conversion, a "turning away from one's past [and] entrust-ing oneself to the unex-pected, uncharted way into the incalculable future in which God comes to us.''6 Conversion is not just giving up and letting go, adapting our lives to the necessities of the ministry, but is a life-long project of committing one's whole life to God. And leadership ministry offers abundant opportunities to move toward that commitment. Gradually, if we are open to conver-sion, God becomes that "hum of being" that accompa-nies us whether or not we are aware of it. We need to choose intentionally to open ourselves to conversion, knowing that we do not control when or how it will happen. God has a way of unsettling our Conversion is a life-long project of committing one's whole life to God. 371 70.4 2011 Eicbten ¯ Tbe Hum of Being carefully controlled world and "tipping" it sideways. VChen we least expect it, God will find ways to unsettle us and invite us to make "soul" decisions in which we recommit our hearts and lives to the sacred journey-- inward, outward, and forward--the "always-already-now" of life that Shea speaks of. It is a journey wherein we are called to be witnesses to the gospel and to be changed by God's abundant love into true disciples. As leaders, we are sustained in this conversion pro-cess by our own prayer, by the love and prayer of our leadership team, by friends and companions, by the liturgy, by the beauty of creation, and by the grace of office itself---"the quiet, sudden infusion of some power beyond [one]self. the unbidden, unsought, unexpected emergence in the soul of a capacity hitherto unacknowledged" (Spoto, pp. 59-60). Leadership as Loving Relationship When Jesus came to proclaim the Good News, some were gleeful that the Messiah had come and things would be good for the downtrodden Jews. However, Jesus in his preaching and ministry taught that the peo-ple of Israel should not presume privilege. He began his ministry not from a place of power but from a realiza-tion that he was loved and that his mission was to draw others into God's love. Whatever he did, he did out of his identity as the loved one. When we are elected to leadership positions, we must realize that we are elected for mission and not for our own prestige. Shea suggests that when we realize we are loved, we are energized, and it is then that we begin, even if we continue work we have been doing for years (p. 113). We can draw on personal skills and abilities and become good administrators in our communities, but Review for Religious spiritual leadership is about knowing ourselves as loved; about loving and receiving love in our sister-to-sister, brother-to-brother relationships; and about speaking truth in love. George Wilson says that we are "held irre-vocably by a profound sense of charity." A deep love for God and for one another enables us to face the uncom-fortable and often contradictory movements in our lives and in the lives of our sisters and brothers. "The Gospel mandate of love--not a romanticized abstraction but an interpersonal engagement with a challenging flesh-and-blood sister or brother--will always remain the ultimate touchstone for truth.''7 The mandate of love moves us to relationships characterized by dialogue, forgiveness, and reconciliation. As leaders, we are called to create deeper understanding among our members, to uncover a base of shared meaning that helps us coordinate and align our actions with our values. We enter into a pro-found dialogue when we relate from a deep well of love, even in what may seem simple and ordinary. It is not just words that we share; it is a relationship8 that finds its source in our relationship with God. Our sisters and brothers may or may not remember a major project that was completed or that it was accomplished during the term of leadership. What they will remember is our relationship with them--whether we loved them. Leadership as Pilgrimage Spiritual leadership is not static but is a process that draws us into a vital and life-changing relationship with God and with our community. We can think of that process as a pilgrimage. Doris Donnelley identifies five characteristics that distinguish pilgrims from tourists.9 Perhaps we can appropriate these as we strive to become pilgrim leaders: 70.4 2011 Eichten ¯ The Hum of Being ¯ Valuing the internal. Pilgrim leaders are motivated by a hope for something to happen within, something that alters their attitudes and ways of looking at life. ¯ Valuing self-investment. Pilgrim leaders invest themselves and surrender to the experience. They sur-render all that clutters their lives so that God takes cen-ter stage. ¯ Valuing transformation. Pilgrim leaders are awak-ened to new dimensions of life, community, and church. Such awakening requires listening at a deep level--at the level of Spirit and the "hum of being"--to avoid falling into disillusionment and cynicism as they learn more about the human failings and limitations of their community members and their church--and perhaps of themselves. ¯ Valuing the journey as well as the arrival. Pilgrim leaders prepare both before and all through their term of office by "taking time seriously and elegantly--the right here-and-now time of [their] lives" (Muller, p. 167). At the end of their leadership ministry, they "go home" and allow the internal dimension of their journey to continue to unfold. Those who allow this to hap-pen are changed, and the rest of their life's pilgrimage begins in new ways. ¯ Valuing community. Pilgrim leaders know that they are on a particular journey at a particular time and with a particular group for a reason. As the journey unfolds, the connections they make and the experiences they share with the group help them to understand that they are part of something much bigger than their own per-sonal growth and decisions. All of us, both leaders and members, are on a pilgrimage. We are a community within the larger community of our church, both the pastoral and the Review for Religious hierarchical church. We allow ourselves to realize that we are about witnessing to our loving God, not about building the perfect community. Parker Palmer1° speaks about the necessity of "de-illusionment," that is, moving from the "illusion of salvation by interaction" (having an idealized community of love, understanding, and true dialogue, having lots of new vocations, etc.), to under-standing that we are people in search of God, that God is always present, and that salvation is pure gift of God. I conclude with words for all who are called to com-munity leadership: trust your pilgrimage of leadership. Open yourself to God's love so freely given. Surrender yourself to God and listen to the hum of your being as God guides your community into the future and guides you daily in your leadership service to your sisters and brothers. Your authenticity is a source of Spirit. You are strengthened and supported when you are able to be open to Spirit, when you can allow enough emptiness and detachment to make room for Spirit, and when you can trust God enough to enter into the call to con-version. When you know yourself as beloved and pre-cious to God, that love will overflow into those around you; and, if you allow it, you will experience the return of love in abundance. Returning to the words of John Shea: "You are filled with the sound [of Spirit] . . . the hum of being . . . present, vibrant, alive, now. Being born of this spirit is not an event 'done and over.' It is the 'always-already-now' of life. It is the power of God living in you." In these days, when there are no clear answers or directions for our communities, we are invited to enter into the pilgrimage of religious communal life and min-istry with trust, courage, hope, and gratitude. As lead- 70.4 2011 Eicbten ¯ The Hum of Being ers, let us journey together with our sisters and brothers and with our God into a future filled with hope. Notes ' John Shea, Gospel Light: Jesus Stories for Spiritual Consciousness (New York: The Crossroad Publishing Company, 1998). This theme is developed more fully in Chapter 4, pp. 97-116. 2 Wayne Muller, Sabbath, Finding Rest, Renewal, and Delight in Our Busy Lives (New York: Bantam Book, 2000), p. 167. 3 Joan Chittister, Gi~ of Years. (New York: BlueBridge, 2008), p. vii. 4 Henri Nouwen, With Open Hands (Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1972), p. 158. s Richard M. Nahman OSA, "My Gospel Spirituality," Review for Religious (2009): 41-48. 6 Donald Spoto, Reluctant Saint, The Life of Francis of Assisi (New York: The Penguin Group, 2003), p. 48. 7 George Wilson, "Something Tells Me. ," Human Development (2008): 13. 8 William Isaacs, Dialogue and the Art of Thinking Together (New York: Doubleday, 1999), p. 19. He notes that the ancient meaning of the word logos suggests "an intimate awareness of the relationships among things in the natural world," making "relationship" the best English translation for logos. "In that sense, logos may be best rendered in English as 'relationship.' The Book of John in the New Testament begins: 'In the beginning was the Word (logos).' We could now hear this as 'In the beginning was the Relationship.' " 9 Doris Donnelly, "Pilgrims and Tourists: Conflicting Metaphors for the Christian Journey to God," Spirituality Today 44:1 (1992): 20-36. www.spiritualitytoday.org/spir2day/9243.1donnelly.html l0 Dr. Parker J. Palmer, "Borne Again: The Monastic Way to Church Renewal," Weavings: A Journal of the Christian Spiritual Life (1986), p. 12. 376 Review for Religious THOMAS A. KROSNICKI Architecture and Religious Life ~ ver the years, Review for Religious has covered a wide range of diverse topics that touch religious life. The indices of the preceding 69 volumes of the periodical attest to a rich and significant contribution. Yet it seems to me that one topic is conspicuous by its absence. There seem to be no articles dealing with the relationship architecture has with the life of religious communities in general or about the impact buildings have on the members of those communities. In this brief presentation, I intend to raise several salient points for reflection and possible discussion by religious men and women about the impact of architecture--the houses we live in--on religious life. Your House Is a Self-Portrait Granting that the statement "Your house is a self-portrait" holds a measure of truth, one might rightly Thomas A. Krosnicki SVD is a former Director of the Bishops' Committee on the Liturgy. He may be addressed at Divine Word House, 832 Varnum Street NE, Washington, DC 20017-2143. 70.4 2011 Krosnicki ¯ Architecture and Religious Life 378 ask: What is the identity that a religious community intends to project by its buildings? It could be worth-while, therefore, for community members to step back and take a good look at their present living quarters, particularly if they are contemplating renovations or the construction of a new building in the future. What com-posite self-portrait do the present buildings or plans for future ones project to members and non-members alike? There should normally be a correlation between the edifice and the self-definition of the religious community that it houses. Ideally, building and self-definition posi-tively reinforce each other. As there is no set design for th~ shape of a religious house, no one can convincingly claim that "this is how a house for religious should look." During the 1950s and 1960s, when religious com-munities were expanding in the United States, archi-tects designed new houses for religious communities that today remain clearly identifiable as from that era. Basically, many look very much alike--pejoratively described as "1960 Penal." They ended up strikingly similar in both design and material. I can, for example, point to the two houses across from my residence in metropolitan Washington DC and say unequivocally, "Clearly, from their appearance, both were built dur-ing the unprecedented growth phenomena of Catholic religious life of the 1960s." Unfortunately, in the States such buildings were generally designedto last for 75 to 100 years; they will be standing for another 25 or more years, even though their primary purpose may have morphed into something else, given the decline of voca-tions and dwindled need for large residential buildings. How did that kind of building style come about? Financial constraints? The pressure of urgent need for expansion? A lack of creative imagination? Government Review for Religious restrictions? Regardless of the reason, the basic princi-ple "Every house is a self-portrait" seems to have been unwittingly overlooked. One hopes that we religious have better images of ourselves than these buildings project. But, a corporate self-image is not always easy to come by. How might it be achieved? Rule and charism, as well as the function and ministry of the particular religious community are central to the large equation that feeds into an architectural design. Therefore, in plan-ning or renovating a house, a religious community must col-laborate with a care-fully selected architect in a process of "defin- ~, ing" the building so it truly fits with and looks like the community and not just shows off the architect's latest ideas. As qualified and inspired as the architect or builder might be, they still may not truly understand religious life and must watch the bottom line of overall cost and materials. In short, the community must school the architect, as well as itself, in its unique religious ethos, its particular rule, and its designated ministry so that the completed proj-ect images or reflects the community at its very best. Thus, a rural Trappist monastery should not have the appearance or design of an inner city residence for the Missionaries of Charity of Mother Teresa of Calcutta. One hopes that we religious have better images of ourselves than these buildings project. Form Follows Function The architectural principle of Louis Sullivan (~'1896) that "form follows function" remains both valid and in 379 70.4 2011 Krosnicki ¯ Architecture and Religious Life 380 vogue today. Unfortunately, one can still find designs that have proven to be decidedly dysfunctional in spite of that basic principle. Frank Lloyd Wright ('c1959), the renowned American assistant to Sullivan, accepted the axiom in principle but moved beyond it to "organic architecture" promoted by the "Prairie School" move-ment. Recent attention has focused on the organic archi-tecture of the Sagrada Familia Basilica in Barcelona, designed by Antoni Gaudi (t1927). Nature was Gaudi's inspiration. He saw that plant forms clearly stem from their organic function, and he incorporated those forms into the functionality of his imaginative edifice. Function does not necessarily dictate that the end product be prosaic, sterile, or crassly utilitarian. Paradoxically perhaps, structural forms can be functional without being deprived of the truly creative, void of the artistically challenging, or stripped of the esthetically appealing contributions of architecture. Religious residences are generally built in view of their multiple and unique functions. So, the first chal-lenge is to attempt to define the multifunctionality of a religious building that is to be something more than a warehouse for people or a residence for transient day-laborers, not unlike a Motel 6 or Holiday Inn. The bui~ldings are residences for women or men dedicated to a life in community (mensa communis remains an apt term) and bound together by common religious life and ideals, expressed in vows, vocation, and ministerial commitment. A first consideration, when looking at form-func-tion, is the physical arrangement or basic design of the building. What structural units are judged major-- i.e., the central, common spaces of the community? The community chapel, gathering room, library, and Review for Religious dining facility--characterized by their size, location, and accessibility--are generally considered primary. A well thought out floor plan needs to facilitate patterns of movement to these central community areas. Secondary structural units are necessary community service areas and the rooms for individual members, which provide commodious but not ostentatious living. I recall that some artist--perhaps Michelangelo-- stated that "small rooms beget small ideas." Although the personal rooms of the members remain secondary in terms of designed structural units, they are not unimportant for the general well-being of the commu-nity. Each community has its own approach and its own reasons for making its deci sions. One religious community that initially provided private rooms for members in initial formation decided to redesign the space into areas that could be occupied by several persons because they felt that during the ini-tial formation stage private accommodations fostered too much individualism, egocentrism, and even narcis-sism-- a concern that the 'T' might loom larger than the "we." Such questions remain open to serious reflection and debate based on various issues that come into play --e.g., culture, maturity, and background of the indi-viduals concerned. Ultimately, what must be considered in any situa-tion is the basic interrelationship of major and secondary structural units and their impact on the daily life and well-being of the community. Consciously or unconsciously, Some artist stated that "small rooms beget small ideas." 381 70.4 2011 Krosnicki ¯ Architecture and Religious Life decisions about their size and placement will identify and underscore community priorities and emphases. The physical environment does influence the persons who occupy the building, 382' The Building Shapes the Community We must accept the fact that the physical environ-ment does influence the persons who occupy the building. In a process that is subde and for the most part uncon-scious, the edifice can take hold and mold the minds and hearts of the occupants for good or ill. A house at architectural peace with itself can pro-mote harmonious peace for the inhabitants. A house bereft of structural harmony and beauty can, unfortunately, exacerbate division and conflict. That alone is a good reason for "getting it right" on the draw-ing board from the very beginning. Buildings, even for religious men and women, need to support and enhance the individual emotionally, psychologically, and spiritually. Consideration must be given to how the psychological and spiritual well-being of the community members can be fostered by the house they inhabit. Is there an appropriate balance between community and individuality? What about the tension between the need for private and for public spaces? Areas of silence and communication? Flexibility and stability? Buildings architecturally designed like rabbit burrows or mazes, where one can easily hide away from others, do not facilitate communication (and therefore community itself) any more than open ended "glass houses" neces-sarily foster or encourage healthy solitude and needed Review for Religious silence. Other problems can be compounded by poor physical layout. Anger, for example, can be triggered by a person's assigned living space within the commu-nity (e.g., "We built the rooms too close to--or too far from--the elevators"). Inadequate light might contribute to depression--e.g., "It's too dark here. I need the sun. I'm depressed." Community and interpersonal tensions can arise when the building itself does not reinforce per-sonal identity, enhance self-worth, or affirm self-esteem. [Editor's Note: One, however, must admit that while some difficulties can be remedied by a change of rooms or by the purchase of adequate lamps, even the best architec-tural planning can go only so far in addressing deeply engrained attitudes and longstanding difficulties.] Serious interpersonal conflicts might be symptomatic of a systemic error in the very environmental package in which one "lives and moves and has his or her being." "You act the way you dress" is a maxim that might be buttressed with another: "You live the way you're housed." Physical, emotional, psychological wholeness and well-being along with spiritual growth are nourished by an environment of beauty and are enhanced by tran-quility begotten of right order. Go Green A new, but significant, consideration in the design and use of religious buildings is the "green" movement. Care for the earth and its natural resources is not only an environmental issue but a theological one as well. In the design and construction of new buildings by reli-gious communities, attending to this "green" factor can stimulate new thinking, practical cost-saving, and aware-ness of environmental issues. There are already positive examples in this regard. 3,83 70.4 2011 Krosnicki * Architecture and Religious Life The Holy Wisdom Monastery of Benedictine Sisters in Middleton, Wisconsin, (www.benedictinewomen.org) that opened in August 2009 addressed "green" issues such as geothermal heating and cooling, solar panels, rain and roof gardens, tankless water heaters, optimum use of natural light, restored natural prairie habitats, and use of regional building materials. The goals are clear: an environmentally sound structure, respect for the environment, use of energy-saving programs, affordable housing, and the manifestation of a spirituality aligned with a care for the earth and all creation. One resource for any religious community consider-ing the construction of a new building or the retrofit-ting of an old one would be the U.S. Green Building Council (USGBC). LEED (Leadership in Energy and Environmental Design), a program developed by USGBC, "provides building owner and operators a concise frame-work for identifying and implementing practical and mea-surable ~green building design, construction, operations, and maintenance solutions" (see www.LEED.org). The LEED program can be applied to all buildings regardless of where they are in their life cycle (old, renovated, new). Impact beyond the Community It is my contention that, with few exceptions, reli-gious women and men have not given enough attention to the architectural impact their buildings--in particular their residences--have on their membership. In addition to all that has been said above, it would be important to know what impression our buildings have on those who are shopping around for a religious community. Could it be that the building that clothes the community is of far more significance--more, even, than the religious habit--than heretofore granted? Certainly, in the pro- Review for Religious cess of designing new structures or retrofitting old ones, the psychological, spiritual, and physical well-being of the individual, and therefore of the community, must be carefully weighed. In all these areas, there is ample reflection material for the community, the architect, and the construction company. The fruit of that reflec-tion would benefit religious life and those that religious touch by their life and ministry. Approaching Fall As the drone of locusts saws through evening silence, summer quietly collapses. No encore of merry gardens, rains trelsy of wrens, aroma of cut grass. I gird my soul as I view the spent zucchini plants fiat and pallid. No sly submarines left. And so goodbyet. My God, pull back these fingers reaching for what's gone. Teach them to renounce for the needed span all blush and bloom, all sun-nursed freshness. Stiffen my spine for sterner days, arthritic stalks in dying fields, the grief of trees soon to weep their leaves. Let me trust the grace all losses offer. Patricia Schnapp RSM 70.4 2011 focus on JOEL GIALLANZA Be Saints: Pathway to a Holy Life Joseph On 17 October 2010, Pope Benedict XVI can-onized Brother Andr4 Bessette CSC, the first member of the Congregation of Holy Cross to be so honored. His canonization did not really surprise anyone who knows anything about his life and work and, of course, about the Oratory of Saint Joseph in Montreal. Even before Andr4's beatification in 1982 and now his canonization, it was easy to think of him as a saint. He was considered such even during his lifetime. And, in the interim period of forty-five years between his death and his beatification, it was generally assumed that one day he would be officially recognized as a saint by the church. It was easy to think of him as a saint because of the many healings and Joel Giallanza CSC is the administrative assis-tant to the provincial of the South West Province of the Holy Cross Brothers. He can be addressed at 1101 St. Edward's Drive, Austin, Texas 78704. Revi~ for Religious other miracles associated with him. Though not often mentioned, those other miracles included bi-location and the gift of insight through which he could read (or "see," as he said) people's souls. These types of miracles came to light during the testimony of witnesses in the processes for his beatification and canonization. Brother Andre's frequent exhortation to others was simple and direct, "Be saints." His life and work set before us a way to holiness, a way to "be saints." A Life and A Work Alfred Bessette was born on 9 August 1845, in Saint Gr~goire d'Iberville, Qudbec, Canada. He was the eighth of twelve children. By the time he was twelve years old, both his parents had died; he and his siblings were separated and sent to live with various relatives. Alfred did not receive much education; he learned to sign his name and to read a little. His health was always weak and it was difficult for him to keep a regular job. As a young man, he worked for various factories and mills in Canada and the northeastern United States. In 1870, when he was twenty-five years old, he applied for admission to the Congregation of Holy Cross, a community of brothers, priests, and sisters founded in France thirty-five years earlier by Blessed Basil Moreau CSC, a diocesan priest of Le Mans. Alfred was accepted, and took the name Brother Andre. Because of his poor health, his approval for profession of vows was delayed. After his initial formation, he was assigned to Notre Dame College in Montreal, a secondary boarding school sponsored by the Congregation of Holy Cross. He served as doorkeeper, infirmarian, barber, and jani-tor. In 1872, he was approved to profess his vows as a 387 70.4 2011 Giallanza ¯ Be Saints Brother of Holy Cross. Though he was not involved in the school extensively, he was particularly sensitive to students who were ill. When an epidemic of smallpox broke out in another school in Montreal, Andr~ rec-ommended a procession with a statue of Saint Joseph through the school. The epidemic diminished imme-diately. Increasingly, the sick began to visit Brother Andr~ and ask for his prayer and advice. His usual recom-mendation was that they pray to Saint Joseph to ask for his intercession. In the early 1870s, the first heal-ings began to occur. Brother Andr~ always insisted that Saint Joseph accomplished all these things. His typi-cal "response when people requested his own prayer was simple: "Ask Saint Joseph to bring your petition to God." Because the sick were coming to the school to see him, parents and community members objected that the students were being exposed to various sicknesses and diseases. It became difficult for Andr~ to meet with those who came to him for prayer. In 1896, the Congregation of Holy Cross purchased a piece of property across the street from the school, near a trolley stop, where the sick could meet with Brother Andr& A small chapel was built in 1904, and in 1909 he was assigned full-time to be in charge of this place of prayer. In 1915 construction began on a larger chapel, the crypt church of the present Oratory of Saint Joseph, to accommodate more people. The number of pilgrims seeking Brother Andre's counsel and Saint Joseph's intercession steadily increased. After comple-tion of the crypt, construction continued and the upper church began to take shape. When funds fell short and the work was suspended prior to the placement of the roof, Brother Andr~ said, "If Saint Joseph wants a roof Review for Religious over his head, he will take care of it." Saint Joseph even-tually did take care of it, but Andr~ was not alive to see it. Over the years Brother Andre's health never improved. Two days after Christmas, 1936, he had a severe attack of indigestion, and a few days later he was admitted to the hospital. In the days that followed, his pain increased; during that time he was constantly pray-ing and asking that God's will be done. On January 4 he went into a coma. Brother Andr6 died at 12:50 AM on 6 January 1937. His body was brought to the Oratory. During the next seven days more than one million people waited in line, in the bitter cold, to pass his body, to touch their rosaries and other objects to it, and to pray. Many extraordinary cures were reported during those days. Saint Andr~ did not live to see the completion of Saint Joseph Oratory as it is today; however, he is buried in the crypt church he knew so well. The Oratory contin-ues to be a place of prayer and pilgrimage. Andre's name is forever linked to that of Saint Joseph because of the obvious similarities between these two saints. Both were simple laborers through whom God chose to do extraordinary things; both knew pov-erty and suffering; both experienced exile. Above all, both remained faithful to whatever God asked of them; both point out to us a pathway to holiness. A Way to Holiness Though Andre's life was filled with miracles and other extraordinary phenomena, our faith teaches us that such things do not de facto constitute a person's holiness. Holiness is not about singular actions within a person's life, regardless of how impressive those may be. Holiness 70.4 2011 True holiness is enduring 390 is reflected through the person's entire life, the complete example that is given to others. Further, the standard for such holiness is not arbitrary; it is nothing less than God's own person. Jesus taught, "Be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect" (Mt 5:48). Another transla-tion says, "Be holy, as God in heaven is holy." With the Incarnation, Jesus becomes the standard. Holiness is simply to live as Jesus lived, to love as Jesus loved, to do what Jesus did; we do it in our own lives, in our daily relationships and responsibilities. Each and accessible, time Jesus confronts those . who would sum up the law in terms of what they do or what they have accom-plished, he counters it by referring to the priority of mercy, detachment, compassion, forgiveness, charity-- in brief, following him and his way. We look to people we consider holy for encourage-ment and guidance, for insight about how to follow Jesus. Brother Andre's entire life and example speak to us of following Jesus, of being holy. His is an endur-ing holiness that reaches beyond the historical period in which he lived. His life also reflects an accessible holiness; a way of life that is possible, even though we may never do exactly what Andr~ did. His instruction to us is simple, "Be saints." True holiness is enduring and accessible; temporary holiness is counterfeit and conceited. In our own way, in our own life, we can be holy. Brother Andr4 shows us a pathway to a holy life. What are the recommendations for the way to holiness that Andre's life and example place before us? These reflections will focus on four recommendations. Review for Religious Believe First, believe. Andrd used to say, "God never forgets us." "Never" is a strong word and leaves no room for variation. And yet, that is what our faith teaches us. God is always with us. God always loves us--always, without exception. Do we believe that, without exception? This is the faith to which we are called. The challenge for us emerges when our faith is confronted by experiences that do not speak to us of God, or by events that seem to be in direct contradic-tion to what we hold to be true of a loving God, a good God. Then we are tempted to think that God possibly has forgotten us or is looking the other way for the moment. Yet, faith teaches us that such are God's ways, such is the way that Providence works. We are called to trust Providence, to believe Providence, even when things point in directions that, to all appearances, have nothing to do with God. This was true in Andre's life. The fact that he was admitted to the Congregation of Holy Cross is evidence that God was at work when the normal pointed in the opposite direction. He was not educated, he learned to read very little, and could barely write much beyond his name. His health was always precarious. From a voca-tion perspective, it was uncertain if he would ever have the capability or stamina for any kind of ministry. These facts provided more than sufficient reasons for the com-munity to think that it would be too much of a risk to accept him. Still, Andr~ remained faithful to the work that had been assigned to him and hoped he would be accepted. As he said, "If you do not believe in God, you will get nothing." Andr~ believed; and though his formal acceptance and profession of vows were delayed, he was admitted to Holy Cross. 391 70.4 2011 Giallanza ¯ Be Saints Similarly, the fact that the Oratory came into exis-tence is a testimony to Andre's faith that God, through Saint Joseph, would complete what Andr~ believed God was calling him to do. Even after permission was received from the community to proceed with the con-struction, there were financial setbacks. Each step along the way required the conviction that God and Saint Joseph would provide. Brother Andr~ continued his work as if God and Joseph were already in the process of providing. As con-struction work was well underway, when asked how he had succeeded, Andr6's reply was simple, "I have always left the work of the Oratory in the hands of the good God." In late 1936 and early 1937, when it became evi-dent that Brother Andr~ would die before the comple-tion of the upper basilica, his own perspective never varied: "The good God has no need of me to complete this work. Saint Joseph will see to it." The foundation for our own spiritual life is faith, the conviction that God does not and will not forget us or abandon us. In reality the questions before us are not about God's side of the relationship; rather they arise about our side of the relationship. VChen are the times that I tend to forget God? What experiences or events distract me from God's constant presence to me? What can I do to maintain a conviction about the constancy of God's presence? Pray A second recommendation for the way to holiness that Andr~ teaches us: pray. Andr~ used to encourage others by telling them, "When we pray, God's ear is pressed to our lips." It is an intriguing image for at least two reasons. Review for Religious First, there is an intimacy about the image, illustrat-ing God's desire to be as close to us as possible. There are obviously times when we do not sense or perceive that proximity as a reality. Andr~ assumed it. He believed that God would be near when we prayed regardless of whether we experienced that nearness. Such an insight builds upon the faith that was mentioned as the first rec-ommendation for a way to holiness. There is no incen-tive to pray if we think that the words and thoughts and desires that we bring to prayer simply disappear into a vacuum. To pray at all, we must believe that God is near to us. The Book of Deuteronomy teaches us: This commandment that I am commanding you today is not too hard for you, nor is it too far away. It is not in heaven, that you should say, "Who will go up to heaven for us, and get it for us so that we may hear it and observe it?" Neither is it beyond the sea, that you should say, "Who will cross to the other side of the sea for us, and get it for us so that we may hear it and observe it?" No, the word is very near to you; it is in your mouth and in your heart for you to observe (30:11-14). Such is God's closeness to us when we pray. Second, it is interesting that in this perspective on prayer Brother Andr~ saw God as quite active. He had the firm conviction that God was listening and listening closely. It is God who presses an ear to our lips. God is interested in our prayer and wants to hear what we have to say. It was said by witnesses that Andr~ prayed as if he was speaking to someone from whom he expected an answer. We must be willing to bring the happenings of our daily life into our prayer, honestly and directly. Andr~ used to say, "In prayer, one speaks to God as one speaks to a friend." We can speak to God in this way because there is an intimacy about prayer and because God draws close to us when we pray. 393 70.4 2011 Giallanza * Be Saints Prayer may not be so much about changing the world around us as it is about changing our perspective on that world. 394 Brother Andr4 prayed about what was going on in his life and his ministry. He brought his concerns to God, very explicitly. Whether it was his concern about the continuing development of the Oratory or about the condition of a particular person who had asked for his prayer, he believed that prayer could and would have a real impact in the world. He says in his customary sim-plicity, "If we prayed more, things would go better in the world." Given the complexities of the world in which we live, it would be too easy to dismiss this as naive. And yet, prayer may not be so much about changing the world around us as it is about chang-ing our perspective on that world, enabling us to make a difference, enabling us to see ways in which God is present and active. Genuine prayer always urges us to action; prayer apart from action is no prayer at all. When it came to Saint Joseph, we know that Andr4 had a special relationship with him. For Andr4 it was sim-ply a matter of presenting to Joseph whatever needed to be done and then trusting that it would get done. He said, "If people knew how to pray better, they would obtain everything from Saint Joseph." The challenge is two-fold: first, to be clear regarding what we are praying about; and second, to refer everything to God's will. What we envi-sion as a response to our prayer may or may not be what God has in mind. Praying "better," as Andr4 understood it, required attentiveness to whatever God has in mind. Review for Religious Prayer builds upon the foundation of faith and is necessary for our continued progress and growth in our faith life. Our approach to prayer and our fidelity to prayer say more about its quality than does the actual content and method of our prayer. What is my method of prayer and am I faithful to it? Do I bring to prayer the reality of my everyday life: my hopes, struggles, fears, expectations, aspirations? Is my prayer more a demand or a desire, a litany or a longing, a performance or a passion? Ser~e A third recommendation for the way to holiness: serve. Brother Andrt's sense of service direcdy echoes the gospel; he said, "We cannot love God without lov-ing our neighbor." Service must flow from our prayer. As prayer expresses our love-relationship with God, so service expresses our love for others. Brother Andr6 used to say, "The door of heaven is the heart of Jesus and the key to that door is prayer and love." These two--prayer and love practiced in service--flow into and out of one another. They form a dynamic cycle of our relationship to God and our apostolic relationships with others. Andr~ does not speak about service as much as he speaks about loving others, caring for them, and respond-ing to their needs. Clearly he understood loving others in very practical, immediate terms. Serving others, loving others, in some way engages us with them. Andr6 often said that it was not sufficient to give money in respond-ing to needs; it was also necessary to give compassion from the heart. Money could assure that there would be a distance maintained between ourselves and the reality to which we are responding; compassion demands that we 70.4 2011 Giallanza ¯ Be Saints 396 know about and be touched by the actual circumstances of others. It is clear in studying Brother Andre's example that he was willing to be very engaged in the lives of oth-ers. Witnesses testified that even brief encounters with him left them with the impression that they had been lis-tened to and even known by him much more profoundly than they had anticipated. Brother Andr~ often said that the Lord was our big brother and that we, as little brothers and sisters, have the responsibility to love one another as members of the same family. This is a key theme in the spirituality of the Congregation of Holy Cross. Still, it is especially interesting that Andr~ would use the family as a refer-ence for loving others. His own experience of family, that is, his biological family, was quite disjointed as he was growing up. In fact, his experience of family could have left him bitter or with a feeling of being deserted, due to the death of his parents and the separation from his siblings. Yet he overcame that potentially debilitat-ing reality to grow into a person who genuinely cared for others and responded to their needs. Rather than going through life with a bitterness because he had no natural-family identity, he chose to center his sense of family around the Lord Jesus. And that center was espe-cially necessary because there were times when even his Holy Cross religious family was not very supportive. Brother Andrd is known for his very close relation-ship with Saint Joseph. His mother introduced him. to practices of praying to Saint Joseph and, over time, he developed a strong and intimate relationship with this great saint. However, it is clear that the priority in his life was his love-relationship with Jesus, and he lived that relationship through his service to others. He served simply because that is what Jesus did; as Jesus Review for Religious cared for the people, so too Andrd cared for the people; as Jesus healed, so too he healed. For Andrd this was a very straightforward reality: do what Jesus did and so become like Jesus. Service, in whichever form it takes, demonstrates the reality of our spiritual life. Service--the giving of ourselves, our talents and gifts--is a necessary part of the Christian life. The alterative is that our spiritual life becomes narcissistic and self-enclosed. Neither the type nor the extent of the service that we render to oth-ers is as significant as that we build some form of ser-vice into our life as a way of continuing the mission of Jesus. Our service must be consistent with our gifts and respectful of our priority commitments in life. How do I serve others? In which ways do I continue the mission of Jesus? How has the service that I offer been a source of spiritual growth for me? Trust The fourth recommendation for the way to holi-ness: trust. Trust, in terms of the spiritual life, involves the recognition and acceptance of the abilities we have and the efforts we make to do what our relationship with God and our spiritual life require of us. Trust also involves the conviction that God will support us in those abilities and efforts. Brother Andr6 teaches us, "God does not ask the impossible. God asks that we offer our good intentions, and accept the inconveniences that come with each day, and offer our daily work." Such simplicity reflects Andr6's basic approach to the spiritual life: we do what we can with what we have. But this simplicity should not be equated with ease. Sometimes when we are con-fronted with daily inconveniences and the work that is 397 70.4 2011 Giallanza * Be Saints before us, the good intentions of which Andr~ speaks may not be so evident. Even though God does not ask the impossible, that does not mean that what each day brings to us does not feel impossible or at least over-whelming at times. Trust is to be convinced that God will remain faith-ful, that God will provide the grace we need to be good Christians, even when we encounter difficulties or experience setbacks. If we do not believe that God will remain faithful, we will gradually move toward discour-agement and, in the worst case, despair. Andr6's recom-mendation is explicit: "We must pray that God does not abandon us in our trials and pray to accept with confi-dence the trials that the good God judges appropriate for us to carry." Trust is especially necessary when confronting the cross, of whatever kind. We know that Andr~ most certainly had his share of crosses, both from the Holy Cross community and from those outside Holy Cross. Brother Andr6 speaks about the cross and about trusting God in the midst of experiencing the cross. However the cross comes, it is yet another expression of God's love for us; it is part of our transformation into the liv-ing likeness of Jesus; it is part of resurrection. This is why. Andr~ refers to trials that "the good God judges appropriate for us to carry." He saw the cross in our life as part of God's will even as it was in Jesus' own life. He said to someone who did not see any improvement in a bothersome physical condition, "If it is God's will that you be sick, why would you refuse to accomplish God's will?" The appropriateness of the crosses we carry is based upon what we need for our transformation. It also reflects our capacity to carry a particular cross and our openness to the grace necessary for carrying that cross. Review for Religious Brother Andre's name is tightly linked with that of Saint Joseph, and yet it is said by those who knew him well that his principal devotion was to the Passion of Christ. They said he spoke of the Passion as if he had lived it. This makes perfect sense for one who expe-rienced many obstacles along the pathways that he believed God was calling him to follow. And, beyond that, it makes perfect sense for one who shares in the heritage that Father Moreau, as founder, passed on to the Congregation of Holy Cross. Accepting the Passion of Christ as a model for our life requires trust, the con-viction that what we experience will truly lead to our transformation into the living likeness of Jesus, that it will guide us to resurrection. Andr6 is a saint, but if we distance him from us, then we make it impossible to use his example as a support for our own life. Each of us has ~he potential to be a saint. To realize that potential we must trust that God will give us the graces we need. The alternative to trust is self-reli-ance; it is to assume that we are self-contained in terms of the resources we need to be holy. Trust is practiced by fixing our attention on God, accomplishing our everyday responsibilities, and placing our gifts at the service of oth-ers. Do I trust that God will give me the graces I need to be a good Christian? When have I experienced trust as essential for my continued spiritual growth? Which crosses have been the most transformative in my life? "I Have Asked to be Always in God's Presence" When asked about his own prayer and spiritual life and what he was called to do, Brother Andr~ said, "I have asked to be always in God's presence." Whatever images we may have of him, his work and his miracles, it is interesting that his desire was simply to be in God's 399 70.4 2011 Giallanza ¯ Be Saints 400] presence, to do what he did in cooperation with God. At another point he said, "We must not be attached to earthly things, otherwise we cannot be attached to God." To be one with God, to be attached to God - this was his deepest longing. And that constitutes Andre's holiness more than any of the extraordinary accomplish-ments that occurred during his life or since his death. For him, this union with God, this being in God's presence, was essentially an act of love. He frequently recommended, "Pray to obtain a true love for God." A true love for God would be reflected in the desire to be ever close to God, to complete God's will, to live those qualities of life that are reflected in the gospel: humility, faith, compassion, generosity, patience, etc. It is interesting that, in commenting on his ministry, Andr~ once said, "It is su.rprising that people often ask me for healings, but rarely for humility, for the spirit of faith." While a particular healing might be important in response to what a person was suffering, he believed the priorities for the spiritual life were more closely related to humility and faith than to any healing. Before Brother Andr6 died, his last words were, "This is the seed.;' Though it is an allusion to several gospel texts, he did not expand on his statement; so we can reflect on this self-description from several perspec-tives. All of them can give us some insight into the way to holiness that Andr6 points out to us. In Matthew's Gospel, in the parable of the sower, Jesus says, "As for the seed that was sown on good soil, this is the one who hears the word and understands it, who indeed bears fruit and yields, in one case a hun-dredfold, in another sixty, and in another thirty" (13:23). The seed in this case is God's word that is meant to bear fruit. It is evident that Andrd's life has produced fruit Review for Religious far beyond what he may have imagined. Responding to God's word was for him a simple act of love. As he often recommended, "Love Jesus as he has loved us, effectively and openly." This is what it means to receive the word and have it grow within our life. In Luke's Gospel, while teaching the crowds, Jesus says, "What is the kingdom of God like? And to what should I compare it? It is like a mustard seed that someone took and sowed in the garden; it grew and became a tree, and the birds of the air made nests in its branches" (13:18-19). The seed in this case is a very small, even minuscule, real-ity that becomes ~ large enough to welcome and sustain life. As Brother Andr~ said on more than one occasion, "The Oratory is the work of the good God." Andr~ sowed a small seed, even in the midst of opposition and criticism; today it is clear how extensive the influence of the Oratory is. It continues to be a place where people find comfort and healing for their life, refreshment and encouragement for their faith. Also in Luke's Gospel, when the apostles ask for an increase in faith, Jesus responds, "If you had faith the size of a mustard seed, you could say to this mulberry tree, 'Be uprooted and planted in the sea,' and it would obey you" (17:5-6). In this instance the seed is faith that accomplishes what needs to be done. The amount of faith is not of significance to Jesus; some mustard grains are almost like powder. It is the conviction and confidence underlying faith that make the difference. If we could be The priorities for the spiritual life were more closely related to humility and faith than to any healing. 401 70.4 2011 Giallanza ¯ Be Saints 402 one with God's will, our faith would have the same effec-tiveness as Jesus' own. What Andr~ did, he did in faith, confident that God and Saint Joseph would respond. He used to say, "You must submit yourself to God's will; it is the teacher of everything." Andr~ had learned well God's will; in his work for the development of the Oratory and in his healing ministry, the confidence and strength that came from that learning are clearly evident. In John's Gospel, Jesus teaches, "Truly, I tell you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit" (12:24). In this case the seed is the death that leads to new life. This may very well be the seed with which Brother Andrd identified himself. His perspec-tive, not only on the Oratory, but on everything he did, was that God and Saint Joseph were doing what needed to be done. His own task was to remain close to God and to accept whatever came. He had learned that close-ness to God came at a price. He said, "The closer one is to God, the more one suffers." There was dying to do as the Oratory developed; more than once plans did not go exactly as Andr6 had hoped or envisioned they would. But he remained faithful because he knew that God had called him to do this. " Brother Andr~ could say "This is the seed" near the end of his life precisely because that is what he had been throughout his whole life. Regardless of the gospel lens through which we reflect on his words, Brother Andrd has become a seed. His life has become an example of living God's word; of believing that the smallest efforts, if sincere, can produce enormous results; of bringing faith to all that we do; and of dying to self so that new life may emerge. Review for Religious "Be Saints" Brother Andr6's exhortation is simple: "Be saints." The assumption in this, of course, is that we can be saints. The truth is, we can. We do have the potential for a holy life, within our own life. As Andr6's example has been and continues to be a seed of encouragement for countless people, so too we are called to be a seed for others. The soil necessary for that seed to flourish requires that we believe and pray, serve and trust. These will provide the fertile ground that is the foundation for the pathway to a holy life. Reference Quotations of Brother Andr~ are taken from Frbre Andrd disait souvent. (Saint Joseph Oratory; Montreal: Editions Fides, 2010). Translation provided by the author. Imagining the Journey Retracing the route from the San Salvador airport taken by the four North American churchwomen on 2 December 1980 What did they do, I wonder, when the road turned toward death ? Gaze at the sleeping corn, longing to taste harvest? Pass by the gnarled ginger root tree, with hope for the next day's shade? Did they sense the holy ones gathered around them, arms outstretched in welcome? Did they reach for the hand of another who also trembled, finding courage and comfort in her clasp? Did they, I wonder, hold the shining beauty of this world for one last fleeting moment? Chris Koellhoffer IHM 403 70.4 2011 JOHN M. SAMAHA St. Joseph in Focus: Husband of Mary and Guardian of Jesus 404 Hw)w much do we know about the man who as the husband of the Mother of Jesus and the guardian of our Redeemer? St. Joseph is the often-overlooked member of the Holy Family. Scripture says little of him. We seem to give him scant attention. Yet devotion to St. Joseph has deep roots in Christian tradi-tion. Just how do we honor and appreciate him? Do you remember when, as children in Catholic school, we wrote "J.M.J." at the top of our papers? We did so to remind ourselves to have the same intentions that Jesus, Mary, and Joseph had in life. Husband of Mary We must remember that Mary and Joseph are a couple. And Jesus is their child. We picture the mem-bers of the Holy Family side by side. They belong Brother Jolm M. Samaha SM writes from Marianist Center; 22683 Alcalde Road; Cupertino, California 95014. Review for Relig$ous together. When separated, their significance in God's plan of salvation is clouded, because their importance lies in their relationship to each other. While honor-ing the perpetual virginity of Mary, we cannot disre-gard Joseph's privilege and happiness of being Mary's husband. Artwork has often depicted Joseph as an old man--possibly so that he would seem to be less of a threat to Mary's virginity. Such depictions tended to undervalue the loving relationship of Mary and Joseph as husband and wife. St. Teresa of Avila, for one, always insisted that Joseph was a young man when he married Mary. The special preface for Joseph the Husband of Mary in the Eucharistic Liturgy reinforces this positive approach: "With a husband's love he cherished Mary, the Virgin Mother of God." Foster Father of Jesus Since Joseph is the husband of Mary, he is also father to Jesus. While we know that Joseph was not the physical father of Jesus, Luke, in the gospel account about Jesus being lost in the temple, has Mary say to Jesus: "Son, your father and I have been searching for you in sorrow." And the preface cited above goes on to testify: "With fatherly care he watched over Jesus Christ your son, conceived by the power of the Holy Spirit." If one were to think that Joseph's fatherhood was diminished because he did not physically procreate Jesus, let that person speak with adoptive parents-- especially the ones who have conceived a child of their own and adopted others. They will let you know how real Joseph's fatherhood is. Head of the Holy Family Joseph played an important role as Jesus "grew in 405 70.4 2011 Samaba * St. ~osepb in Focus 406 wisdom, age, and grace before God and men." In the Jewish tradition children were in the special care and tutelage of their mothers until they reached the age of five. Beyond that age children came under the special guidance of their fathers. Joseph was the rabbi of the Holy Family and it was his duty and privilege to teach Jesus the Jewish faith and practices. Joseph would have led his family in worship in their home at Nazareth. At meal times both Mary and Jesus looked to Joseph at the head of the table to offer the prayer of blessing. Each year when the Passover was celebrated, the youngster Jesus played his role and addressed the ritual question to Joseph: "Father, why is this night different from every other night?" Then he listened with his mother to Joseph's narration of the glorious events of the Exodus and the explanation of the meaning of the paschal lamb. He could easily have recalled Joseph's explanation years later when he heard John the Baptizer proclaim him the Lamb of God who would take away the sins of the world. When Jesus was of age, Joseph introduced him to syn-agogue worship and the rituals to which Jesus remained faithful throughout his life. Joseph also taught Jesus the skills of a carpenter. By practicing this trade Jesus sup-ported himself and his mother after Joseph's death. Jesus' human experience of fatherhood was drawn from his relationship with Joseph. When Jesus said, "What father would hand his son a stone when he asks for a loaf, or a poisonous snake when he asks for a fish," surely he had in mind Joseph's gentle kindness to him as he was growing up. When Jesus told the parable of the prodigal son, Joseph could easily have been the model of the loving father in the story. As Jesus described how the father Review for Religious embraced and welcomed the son who had been lost, might he have been recalling how Joseph hugged and kissed him after he had been lost in the temple for three days? When Jesus taught us how to pray, he began with the same loving tide, abba, with which he had addressed Joseph all his life. His deep affection for Joseph is evident in scene after scene throughout the Gospels. Joseph obviously made a profound impression on Jesus. St. Joseph's Relation to Us Has Joseph made an impression on us? How do we think of St. Joseph? How do we honor him and pray to him? Do we appreciate the special place he has in Christian spirituality and in our own heritage? Let us wholeheartedly revere the husband of Mary, the foster father of Jesus, the patron of the universal Church. He is, after all, the man who is closest to Christ. Surprise Visit We much preferred Him At a distance. He could not be bought. He would not be made Into a code, A ritual Or a system. Our minds simply Could not contain Him. We wanted a distant Diety. How were we to know He would come close enough To wear our wounds ? Teresa Burleson 407 70.4 2011 potpourri CAREY ELLEN WALSH Lighting Our Modern Spirit: Pope John Paul II's Luminous Mysteries Pope John Paul II was unmistakably a Marian pope, as shown by his encyclical Redemptoris Mater, his visits to prominent sites of Marian apparitions, and his papal motto, Totus Tuus ("Totally Yours") addressed to Mary--all this in an age when Marian devotion had gone into public decline. The Catholic faithful seemed either to love this about their pope or to for-give it as the pious by-product of his hav-ing grown up under Nazi, then Communist, oppression and having lost his mother at the tender age of eight.1 Both reactions missed the theological aspect of John Paul II's pastoral leadership of the church. Mary, for John Paul II, is not relegated to private devotion, but is the "school" for a 408 Carey Ellen Walsh, an associate professor of theology, is a Benedictine Oblate of St. Meinrad's and teaches theology at Villanova University. Her research inter-ests include biblical theology and Catholic spiritualities. Review for Religious new evangelization in the modern world. She invites us to communal study, deepens our understanding of the gospel, and so eases our isolation. As pastor of the universal church, the pope was drawing on an image of the familiar and universal--a mother's love for her child--as a means for spiritual nourishment. Yet because he used the ancient devotion of the rosary, the spiritual contribution of his example in learning from Mary has not received sufficient attention. It is the intent of this essay to demonstrate the spiritual gift of John Paul II's meditation on the rosary. For a pope's foremost role is that of pastor, with "supreme, full, immediate, and uni-versal power in the care of souls.''2 My focus therefore is precisely on how John Paul II's Marian reflections tend to the hunger in our souls. Given his devotion to Mary, it was no surprise when John Paul II recommended anew the rosary as a devotion and declared October 2002-October 2003 as the Year of the Rosary (Rosarium Virginis Mariae). He wrote lovingly of Mary in the gospels, shared the influence the rosary had had on his own life, and suggested that the rosary was a "school of Mary''3 for learning about Christ. It was, indeed, one of his most intimate reflections. What did occasion surprise, however, was that the pope added a new set of mysteries, the luminous, to the long established joyous, sorrowful, and glorious myster-ies- something no one had done for eight centuries, although many popes had written on the rosary.4 In fact, from the start the rosary had been pre-eminently a prayer of the laity, not of the hierarchy. It had first arisen as a popular practice in tandem with the monastic recitation of the Psalter. The 150 Hail Marys recited in the people's prayer, the rosary, corresponded to the 150 psalms, chanted by the monkss and gave a way for 409 70.4 2011 Walsh ¯ Lighting Our Modern Spirit Theology was no abstraction with this pope~ He used it to electrify~ and empower his hearers. 41:0 the laity to contemplate scenes from the gospel. This is how the rosary long functioned in the prayer life of Chris6ans who were largely illiterate. After considering why John Paul II thought it neces-sary for the papal office to enhance this lay devotional prayer, I will assess the theological reason for his having done so. While the pope could easily have been accused of authoritarian interven-tion in the private devo-tions of the faithful, or have been dismissed as a retrograde pope clinging to a pre-Vatican II tradi-tionalism, his Rosarium Virginis Mariae honors the lay contribution to tra-dition and was in accord with the Second Vatican Council's definition of the church as the "People of God," in which the laity plays an important participatory role. One consequence of the council's definition of the church as the people of God, rather than primarily as a clerical institution, was the erosion of the line between popular piety and theology. From the start, this pope's audience was the church as People of God, not the curia. This was evident in his use of the media, his international appearances, his World Youth Days, the popularity of his international best-seller Crossing the Threshold of Hope, and in the response of lay workers under Communist Poland who, heed-ing their pope's conviction on the dignity of all human beings, brought down the Iron Curtain. Theology was no abstraction with this pope. He used it to electrify and empower his hearers. In an age that saw the aban- Review for Religious donment of churches in Europe and the United States, he nourished the church spiritually by returning to the foundations of the faith. When John Paul wrote on the rosary, he did not segregate the professional theologians from believers in the pew, but embodied the Second Vatican C

Issue 36.1 of the Review for Religious, 1977. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS IS edited by faculty members of St Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Braiding, 539 North Grand Boule-vard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. Published bimonthly and copyright @ 1977 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Composed, printed, and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $2.00. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $7.00 a year; $13.00 for two years; other countries, $8.00 a year, $15.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order payable to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS in U,S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Robert Williams, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor January 1977 Volume 36 Number I Renewals, new subscriptions, and changes of address should be sent to REVIEW I~OB R~L~GXOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Correspondence with the editor and the associate editor together with manuscripts and books for review should be sent to B~vi~w Foa R~LmlOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boule-vard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsyl-vania 19131. Review for Religious Volume 36, 1977 Editorial Offices 539 North Grand Boulevard Saint Louis, Missouri 63103 Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Robert Williams, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Miss Jean Read, Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor Review ]or Religious is published in January, March, May, July, September, and November 6n the fifteenth cff the month. It is indexed in the Catholic Periodical and Literature Index and in Book Review Index. A microfilm edi-tion of Review ]or Religious is available from University Microfilm; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. Copyright (~) 1977 by Review ]or Religious. Sand Traps for Renewal Programs Francis Blouin, F.I.C. Brother Blouin, who has written for REVIEW FOR RELI~31OUS before, has recently completed six years of service as provincial, an,d is presently enrolled in a full-time doctoral program in theology at Fordham University. He resides at 93 Park Terra'ce West; New York, NY 10034. ' For more than. ten years now, most of the communities of religious in the United States have made valiant efforts to be attentive to the injunction of Vatican II, Renew Thyself. Considerable energy, valuable time, impressive sums of~ money were expended in a host of activities and programs, in seminars and renewal sessions, in chapters and mini-chapters, in experi-mentation and adaptation. Many congregations which have .not initiated . renewal programs are either dead or dying; however, those that are involved in renewal efforts are not necessarily alive and well. Though it is impossible accurately to evaluate this determined effort, I would like to reflect in the following pages upon some Of the factors which might,have vit.iated the .dreams and the programs so optin~istically conceived and so enthusiastically endorsed. This exercise might ,appear quite negative, but it can help direct our thinking-in an area of renewal that might offer more chance of success, or discover a few,.of the reasons why some pro-grams have produced disappointing results. During the past six years, I was involved in a number oLrenewal pro-grams and was an active member of the Conference of Major Superiors of Men. The following reflections are based in great part upon my. personal observations and my prolonged discussions with superiors, of men.~ My"con-tacts with~religious superiors of women lead me to surmise that the results of their renewal activities are quite similar to those of men religious, though somewhat more encouraging. 4 / Review [or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/1 I would classify the sources of tension and frustration in the renewal effort under six headings: 1) Con,versiOn o] Heart; 2)Interiorization of Re-ligious Values; 3) Psychological Factors; 4) American Success Ethic; 5) Influence of Mass Media; and 6) Fragmentation. Conversion of Heart I am absolutely convinced that the most significant factor for the failure of many renewal programs was the fact that too often renewal efforts were based upon external programs which did not lead to a true conversion of heart. We cannot convert ourselves, let alone convert others. Yet we know that the Lord is ever calling us to greater love and fidelity and asking us only to remove the obstacles to his presence. In some religious communities in the 50's and 60's, community prayers were too often a ritualization of set formulas rather than an encounter with the living God present to all life. The prayer life of many religious was based upon an inadequate spiritual formation without sound scriptural basis. Furthermore, most religious were encouraged to develop a certain discretion, even circumspection, in speaking of their God-experiences. Spon-taneous shared prayer was seen as a threat to spiritual modesty and some even hesitated to speak freely and openly to their spiritual director (when they had one!). Thus, prayer was often considered a community activity rather tha~n a personal encounter with the Lord. Unfortunately, some of the religious who were most faithful and regular to the traditional forms of prayer were adamant against any change or adaptation and thus created a negative tension, while some of the most dedi-cated individuals openly questioned the need for prayer, further discrediting the God-encounter. In the 60's, when many communities granted religious considerable freedom in their prayer life, many religious simply ceased to pray rather than replace community prayers by longer, more intense periods of individ-ual prayer. Pragmatic, work-oriented Americans had been educated to recite prayers, to chant psalms, to meditate cognitively, but had been given woefully little education in contemplation and little incentive to be open to this vital form of prayer. They had been so active doing that they forgot that prayer was: .waiting, receiving, listening, centering, contemplating, creating a void, being open to the small still voice within, being present to a Presence. While they scurried from program to program and from .activity to activity, they'forgot to sit attentively and listen to the Lord speaking within. Man~y communities ~are now re-directing their renewal efforts, and it is this new orientation to a more contemplative stance that is giving new reason for hope. Communities that are still discussing "whether one should pray if one doesn,t feel like praying" or "whether one's work is one's prayer" are not in process of renewal: they are dying. Sand Traps Ior Renewal Programs Commuriities lose their raison d'etre unless they are gatherings of men and women of God whose lives find their meaning and sustenance in a personal relationship to Christ and provide moments and occasions of con-version of heart, an ever-to-be-renewed process. .,~'Without' personal prayer, a deeply religious life ~simply cannot develop, because no one can be a witness to Christ unless he knows Christ personally.'" ~ lnteriorization of Values A value has little influence upon a person unless it has been interior-ized: adequately formulated, clearly understood, generously accepted. Yet it is the unusual person who has interiorized his true values early in life. A significant number of religious entered religious life at an early age and quite often during their initial formation period, they were asked to conform to certain standards or to adopt definite procedures, more through trust in a person or a Rule, than through a reasoned, logical.process. "They were not to question why, they were to do ~and die." There are no shortcuts to an authentic religious formation which is a life-long process of growth in the understanding, acceptance and love of gospel values. Values cannot be legislated or decreed. They must be freely accepted after a long process of reflection and contemplation. It-is evident that this was not always done. Some religiou.s were willing to conform to set values when the external structures and the social climate supported and re-enforced these values/but they later discarded the same values be-cause these had not been properly interiorized. Long-established practices were~ often quickly abandoned because no rationale had been given for them. To try tO return to a system of regimentation.would be futile. "Religious life.with its demands of chastity, poverty, obedience and perpetual commit-ment can only be understood by a fully adult person . There are certain things, such as the need for affection, the security of a home, certain en-gagements and above all an affirmed need for independence, which a person cannot renounce too soon without doing himself harm., for a minimum of human maturity.is necessary to enter the religious life, and this minimum . may be long in coming,''~ Religious must .!iv, e in authentic freedom, the gospel freedom which is "not the power to choose between several possibilities, but is the reasoned ¯ decision, springing from the person's inmost depths, which causes him to follow at any price tl~e course that appears to be God's will. It is not a question of 'do as you please,' 'do what appeals to you,' but 'do coura-geously what you know your God has called you to accomplish.' This free-dom is linked with the inner power that enables each person to fulfill himself 1Ladislas Orsy, Open to the Spirit, p. 245. . ~Ren6 Voillaume, Con]erence o! Religious Superiors, Feb. 1970. 6 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/1 in terms of his truth, by. making a choice that is absolutely Consistent with his fundamental calling.''3 . This is the freedom that will give religious the desire, the conviction and the strength to live the gospel values of simplii:ity, poverty, celibacy for the kingdom, a life of contemplation and service, a life that is attentive to the call of the Spirit. The example of all revolutions certainly must have taught us that free-dom has to be learned. Tillard states that "it is essential to ~ve all members of the group an education in freedom; that is the first task of authority, the initial effort that 'precedes its fruitful ~xercise.''4 If values must be interiorized through a long reflective process, then it is useless for ~religious communities to attempt~ renewal through legislative reforms or by the imposition of new structures: The most important role of superiors is to establish in the community conditions that will. permit a true conversion o/. heart, encourage religious to~ deepen and strengthen their personal convictions, and promote~an atmosphere that will facilitate a true encounter,with each other and with the Lord. Psychological Factors ~ ~ During the p.ast ten years,~religious educators have generally stressed the values of openness, flexibility, adaptability, creativity, confidence, per-sonalism, sharing; and the initial formation programs areofrequently offered in one's normal milieu," This is quite different from the policies of the early 60's when Cardinal Suenens could state that the Church kvas in a period of "immobilism"; religious communities were strongly affected by this attitude. Religious educators stressed the values of conformity, perm.anence, stability, humility, obedience, self-denial; and religious formation was re-enforced by long periods of isolation from normal environments. Religious perfection was often considered conformity to set norms as proposed by the rules of the order. This radical change of attitude towards religious :formation is one bf the most significant develoPments of the past fifteen years. Formatioia is now seen ~is an on-going' process of growth,~ an ever-to-be-renewed activity e~nd-ing only at death. To have ceased to grow is already to have died. However, it was totally unrealistic and overly optimistic Co presume that religious who spent long years of their lives in a different value System, who were rarely e~ncouraged to share deeply, who were isolated at an early age, who were~often the victims of poor psychological practices, would b~ able to 'assume this radically different stance withrut deep anguish. That.many leaders greatly underestimated the difficulty of this adaptat~on and this over-sight partly explains the confusion and disarray of many renewal prograrias. :'I. M. R. Tillard, A Gospel Path, p. 73, Lumen Vitae Press, Belgium 1975. 4j. M. R. Tillard, ibid., p. 199. Sand Traps [or Renewal Programs / 7 It is a .credit to religious that so many were able to adapt and re-orient their thinking without major difficulty. I. would dare say that mhny religious communities are now plagued by the after-effects of .unsound and poorly adapted initial formation programs. I also believe this partly explains'why so many religious have a poor self-concept, have difficulty sharing at a value level, do not easily adjust to new situations. They were educated to stability and permanence when "one must now accept the. radicality of change, change that must go°right down to the roots . Change must be built into our systems so that they incor-porate flexibility and adaptability . The asceticism of today is to accept the agony of change. That's the discipline. It means study, dialogue, meet-ings, discussions, until you're sick of them. When you're sick, get healed and go back to the discussions.":' Religious communities should be. composed of individuals whom the love of Christ has so moved that they have given themselves 'totally to his cause and have united to transmit this love to others. They share their faith and their~ love and together build a community of believers, a com-munity of Christians. This can only be achieved in a real dialogue of love. American Success Ethic "There is nothing that succeeds .like succ6ss," and in the,50's and 60's, American religious wet6 "winners." They were highly respected, they en-joyed a privileged pbsition~in~ the ~urch and in society, their fiaembershilJ was increasing, and they .directed large, well-reputed institutions. They wanted to succeed, and they worked long hours for causes th~y esteemed yery highly. Too often however, they gauged their success according to human criteria rather than gospel values or by the authenticity of their witness to the Good News. One does not become a religious for human motives, but there is no doubt that success, respect, prestige, influence were definitemorale boosters for. pragmatic Americans. Because of past recognition and achievements it is now more difficult for religious to. accept rejection, failure; disalSproval, scorn. When. their apostolic work is questioned, their institutions closed, their values rejected; their ranks depleted, they become disheartened unless they remember that they _are simply being treated like the Mhster who was scorned, rejected, crucified. ~ Religious were so closely tied to their institutions that at times they confused means with ends, forgetting that they were first and foremost messe0gers of the gospel rather than professional workers. "To the degree to which an end is spiritual, the means employed to attain it are always inadequate. In fact, when speaking of a spiritual end, it is preferable today ~Fr. Cassian Yuhaus, C.P., Con[erence to Religious, Winslow, ME, Nov. 1975. Review [or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/1 to avoid the word 'means,' for to our contemporaries the word evokes an action which obtains exactly the effect envisaged,''6 This period of confusion and turm6il may become for religious a period of great creative tension. Though their lives and their activities a~re in-carnated in a specific work-situation which may project few signs of human success, their gospel vision will enlighten an apparently hopeless situation and give their religious consecration its full depth of meaning. "Unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single grain; but if it dies, it yields a rich harvest . Anyone who loves his life will lose it; anyone who hates his life in this world° will keep it for eternal life" (Jn 12:24-26). Now more than ever it is necessary, for religious to ponder the gospel message of failure, of inefficiency, of rejection, of death,,as well as the com-plementary message of success through failure, of life through death, of resurrection through annihilation. Father Pasquier states that: "It is impossible to bein communion with another before we have experienced our own poverty and our limitations. The quality of presence to others entails a risk of rejection. It is a risk that religious are called to take and from which they should not be sheltered by their vows.''7 Religious are now in the privileged position of experiencing their poverty and their weakness and are thus better able to commune with the weak and the rejected as well as with the strong and the respected. Influence of Mass Media Whether religious realize it or not, many have been gravely affected by the historical process of secularization. Some religious are now totally in-serted into a professional work-environment and they may have accepted almost imperceptibly many of the secular values so effectively propagated by mass media. The message of self-and~sense-gratification is in direct op-position to the gospel imperatives. , Self-denial and personal ascesis are in such ill repute that some religious have unwittingly accepted many of the pseudo-values and prevalent sophisms adroitly disseminated by our sense-sated society. It is never a pleasant prospect to accept experientially the reality of Christ's call to self-denial, but to speak seriously of renewal in religious life and ignore the injunction~ "Let him who wants to be my disciple, deny himself and take up his cross and follow me" (Mt 16:24), is nonsense. Very often religious simply do not realize the extent to which they are C'R6gamey, L'exigence de Dieu, p. 86, Quoted by Voillaume, Conlergnce o] Religious Superiors. :Jacques Pasquier, O.M.I., "Conference~on Spiritual Leadership." Sand Traps ]or Renewal Programs / 9 victimized by .mass media or subtly controlled by their professional en-vironment. Religious strove so strenuously for so many years to be fully integrated into the American culture that they forgot that by their religious consecration they had vowed to be "counter cultural." Some have suc-cumbed to the temptation of living a progressively more affiuent life-style or have been blinded by the glitter of wealth and the prestige of social status. It is useless to speak of renewal until the stark gospel message can once more be heard over the din of television commercials. "Where supposedly committed persons~seem to enjoy all the good things of life, the witness value is destroyed and not unusually, the whole person's sense of vocation along with it. He has fallen into the mistake not simply of imagining that things and experiences can make him happy, but that fulfillment or happi-ness itself can be directly sought.''8 Ordinary professional and religious obligations ,are certainly the main ingredients of a life of ascesis, yet Father George Maloney, S.J., in a course on prayer at Fordham University dared state: "It is impossible to make significant progress in prayer unless one is willing to practice ascesis with aggression." He was simply echoing St. John of the Cross: "Contemplation or detachment or poverty of spirit . are almost one and the same thing.'"' A life of authentic poverty, of generous service to others, of sensitivity to the Spirit, of loving celibate commitment, of creative solitude, of constant attentiveness to the Lord, are not possible unless one willingly accepts" the Lord,s clear challenge to self-denial. Many renewal efforts have come to naught because religious refused to pay the price. ~ Fragmentation I previously mentioned that' some of the values that are now cherished by certain religious communities are those of flexibility, openness, adapiabil-ity, creativity, personalism and I also indicated that most communities now permit a wide choice of apostolic works: All these positive values are to be respected, but if they are taken separately without consideration for stabil-ity,: permanence and community commitments, they can lead to a fragmenta: tion of the group, a qoss of identity with the community and an impover-ishment of the sense of missi6n. For a religious, "to do his own thing" or "to go his own way" may be an, acceptable temporary solution to a difficult problem, but it will rarely be satisfactory in the long run. Many communities have a number of religious "on the fringe" members who are hardly associated with the larger group either in body or in spirit. If this trend becomes .generalized, it could be disastrous for the communities. SRichard Jo Kropf, "Radical Commitment and Fulfillment," Spiritual LiJe, Summer, 1975, p. 91. ~'John of the Cross, Dark Night, I, Chap. 4, par. 1. Review [or Religious, V~lume 36, 1977/1 "A community cannot exist long in the Church, unless it is dedicated to giving collectively.''1° Furthermore, it. is not sufficient for individuals to 6e renewed. The whole community, or a significant number of members, must make deter-mined efforts at renewal. 'In every community there are a number of re-ligious who have: come alive during the past years, but sometimes these members are stymied or frustrated by a lethargic~ apathetic group. "For a revitalization to occur, transformation must go beyond the personal. It must penetrate and reshape the. social reality of the community. If the cen-tering of personal-transformation is ekperienced~:by a number ~of people within the community, then a network can emergd through which that trans-forming experience is '~ustained, supported, enhanced. As the sharing of transformational experiences and awareness deepens and intensifies, there emerges a group with a shared vision and codamitment~.~This group becomes a revitalizing force dedicated to building more rewarding community ex-periences and recovering the gripping attraction to living according to Christ's conditions.for .evangelical discipleship.'''1 When this revitalization occurs to'a significant number of people in the cbmmunity great things~ begin to happen, a new life pulsates through the group and a spirit (Spirit?) comes alive in the community._ Possible Orientations It is impossible' for me to indicate what could or should be done by each community to promote a true renewal. Let me simply raise a few ques-tions that may suggest some possible orientations in groups seriously dedi-cated to renewal. l. Are the difficulties~experienced by many communities in organizing community discussions that are a true faith-sharing,due mainly to psy-chological factors, poor knowledge of group dynamics, or weak religious motivations? What .specific steps have been. taken by your community to facilitate this meaningful exchange? 2. Is it POssible for ygu, for your community to live with insecurity, contradiction, rejection? IS this contrary to the gospel teaching? 3. How does your co,,mmunity determine the priorities of personnel, of time~, of resources in selecting an apostolic work? If apostolic choice is left to the individual, what efforts are made to determine a priority .of ac-tivity? 4. Has your community ever tried to gauge the ~impact of mass media upon community values? How many religious in your community are slaves to the "one-eyed monster?" a~°Ladislas Orsy, "Talk, given to Conference of Major JSuperiors,:' America, August 8, 1970, p. 59. ~Lawrence Cada and Raymond iZitz, REVIEW FOa REL~OOS, Vol. 34, No. 5, p. 716. Sand Traps ]or Renewal Programs 5. Is contemplation a common and regular form of individual prayer in your community? What is the attitude of the community towards this form of prayer? ~ 6. Do you define yourselves in terms of your work or in terms of your status? What conclusions can you draw from this? 7. What percentage of the religious in your communities have partici-pated in some more prolonged renewal program within the last three years? five years? eight .years? What does this indicate about your group? 8. Is the life-style in your communities consonant with a religious com-mitment to poverty? In what way? 9. "Christian leadership is accomplished only through service. This service requires the willingness to enter into a situation with all the human vulnerabilities a man has to share with his fellowman" (Henri Nouwen, Wounded Healer, p. 77). Does this quotation quite adequately portray, your district and com-munity leaders? 10. What is the community attitude towards tension? When is it a positive sig9 of growth? When is it a negative factor in the community? 11'. Do community discussions occasionally lead to specific decisions which can be implemented? Why is it so difficult to reach a consensus when specific proposals are suggested? 12. Are religious in your community personally affected by the plight of the 450,000,000 people in the world who are on a starvation diet? What specific activities have been taken by your community to alleviate this situa-tion? 13. Do religious in your community have the freedom to challenge each other to fidelity to sacred promises publicly expressed? If not, what does this indicate? - 14. Do your communities have an effective way of evaluating~the initial formation program? 15. Are long-term institutional: commitments still possible or desirable? How are these to be implemented if everyone is free to choose his own apostolic activity? , Let me conclude by a quo.tation from Father Ladislas Orsy: "Since re-ligious life is the existential gift of God, any question about the future of religious life is a question about the future ~of God's abundance in the Church, about the dynamic action of the Holy Spirit among his pebple-- thus it is not, subject ~to human power. If God gave this gift in the past, he is not likely to deprive, his Churcl~ of it in,the future.''~ V-'Ladislas Orsy, op. cit., p. 21. Seven-hundred-and-fifty years later: Reflections on the Franciscan Charism Eric Doyle, O.F.M. Fr. Eric Doyle, O.F.M. teaches at the Franciscan Study Centre, Canterbury CT2 7NA. Kent, England. This year marks the seven-hundred-and-fiftieth anniversary of the death of St. Francis of Assisi at the Portiuncula on October 3rd 1226. The sources for his life record that larks gathered on the roof above where he lay dying and sang sweetly as he welcomed Sister Death into his life? No one would deny that on that Saturday evening in 1226 a most holy man, a truly human man and a faithful disciple of Christ Crucified passed over to God. And the earth was made the poorer for that passing. Already in various parts of the world there have been courses of lec-tures and celebrations to mark the event and there will be quite a few more before the year has ended. Eulogies will be made in many languages and no doubt St: Francis from his place in heaven will hear himself hailed again as "Patron of the Environment" and "Patron of Ecumenism." The anniversary provides a good opportunity for a Franciscan to reflect on the order's efforts to come to terms with the demands to rediscover its own charism made over the last decade or so since the Second Vatican Council.-Though my ~primary concern is the First Order of Franciscans, and specifically the Order of Friars Minor, I think these reflections will have some relevance for the Conventuals, the Capuchins and the various branches of the Third Order Regular as well, for it is the same charism aSee "Legend of Perugia," 110, in St. Francis o] Assisi. Writings attd Early Biogra-pities, English Omnibus Edition o] the Sources ]or the Li]e o] St. Francis. Ed. by Marion A. Habig. Franciscan Herald Press, ChiCago 1973, 1085-1086. ~ . , Reflections on the Franciscan .Ch~arism / 13 which ultimately inspires them all. These reflections may have even wider relevance. Orders which lead the so-called "mixed" life share many of the same problems in facing the demands of renewal. The Question of Poverty These pages contain no detailed analysis of poverty. In the case of an order which has been so intimately assdciated wiih the profession of pov-erty, this calls for a word of explanation. For the Franciscan Order the question of poverty is ambiguous. It can be a very complicated question and it can be a very simple question, according to the approach one takes to it. For the order as it is de facto organized in the world, poverty is a complicated question. It cannot be examined or discussed in any realistic or satisfactory way if it is isolated from the findings of biblical exegesis and the understanding of poverty in the bible, from a study of all the ele-ments contained in the idea of evangelical perfection which relati;cize the place of poverty in the life and writings of St. Francis, 'from the question about the extent and effectiveness of apostolic activity; and from the de-mands made on the order to find resources to cope with and provide for the numbers who seek to enter it. No one would deny that the Franciscan Order should bE involved in work among the poor. At the theoretical level this is almost a truism for. the Franciscan. At the practical level, however, it is no easy matter to de-termine who precisely are the poor today. While the term certainly covers the homeless, th'e destitute, the oppressed and the exploited, it may also be used to describe countless millions all over the globe who ar~ spiritually impoverished. But even when we have arrived at a moderat~ely sa!isfactory answer to the question': Who are the poor?, we find at once that there are required no mean resources, for example, to have a friar trained to be a ~ompetent and reliable apostle among social outcasts. For the order to providd re-sources to train a friar as a professional social worker is a deeply Christian work and a tremendous act of service to the world. : On the°'~other hand, the question of poverty can be very simple. If a person reads the accounts of the early history of the order and is convinced that the poverty which St. Francis and his first companions embraced is the unique charism of the order, and feels assured that he is called to do the. same, then that person must go and do likewise and thus institute a new branch of the Franciscan Order in the world. The same obligation, it seems, would rest upon a professed friar who became conscientiously convinced that the order has sacrificed an essential element of its charism and mission to the wrrld in abandoning the poverty of St. Francis. He would be bound quite simply to leave the order as it is and to establish another form of the Franciscan life. It would be pointless to ask him where he would go, because, from that moment onward, total ' 14 / Review [or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/1 abandonment to divine providence would be of the structure of his voca-tion, and he would literally have to wait for something to turn up. What he certainly cotild not do would be to stay in the order as it is now consti-tuted, passing away his days in criticizing it and growing old in bitterness, while living by its resources and in its security. Perhaps at the very outset we ought to familiarize with these difficulties all who seek to join us. They would then be able to make such considerations a conscious factor in their decision to join us or not. We should also make sure they know by experi-ence that the gospel spirit of St. Francis does live on in the order, despite the fact that his povertyis not observed. I do not wish to suggest that the order as it now finds itself can'simply ignore the question of poverty. In .fact it has not ignored it over the last decade. There have been many attempts to come to terms with it at the practical level. But it remains problematic.~ However, the issue cannot be discussed in these pages, nor can a.ny assessment be made of the at-temp~ s to come to terms with poverty, firstly, because it would take far too lorlg and, secondly, because while it isundoubtedly an important issue, it is not, in our opinion, the most important issue for the life and mission of the order. There are more vital matters to be considered to which we now shall turn: Rediscovery of the Origi'nal Charism, The Second Vatican Council called all religious to rediscover the par-ticular charism given to the Church in the grace of their origins and to renew and adapt their life according to its form. By a proces.s of discernr ment in the light of the gospel and according to the signs of the times-- that is by Word and wprld--religious were required to define the specific ahd permanent acquisition made by the Church in the life and work of their particular order. ~Th, e FranCiscan~ Order, like every order, belongs to the Church. Only in virtue of its ecclesial character can it be understood in its specific genius at any moment of its higtory and as a renewal movement at its origins. Apa.rt from the Church, the Franciscan Order is ultimately meaningless. St. Francis himself was not only a man of the gospel, but also and by that very'fact, he was a man of the Church. Therefore, the attempt by any order 6r congregation to discover its own particular grace is not anexercise in self-analysis, but a profound act of service to the Church. The call to rediscover the original charism ~raised ~t once a question for the Franciscan Order which .has not yet been satisfactorily treated. The question is this: Is the original charism to be sought uniquely in the period between the oi'al approval of the Rule by Pope Innocent and the death '-'We have touched onosome, of these problems in "Reflections on the Theology of Religiou.s Life," REv~:w FOR RELICIOOS, vol. 32, n. 6. Nov. 1973, 1254-1256. Reflections on the Franciscan Charism of St. Francis (1209-1226), or is' it to be sought throughout the first cen-tury of the order's history from the approval of the Rule to the death of John Duns Scotus (1209-1308)? This is not just an academic question, but a matter of some concern to any Franciscan conscious of the profound contribution made to the development of Christology by the Franciscan School, in the first century of its history, The order has beew far :to6 pre-occupied in its renewal program with the period up to the death of St. Francis. This is an unjust .and uncritical restriction of the content of tile Franciscan charism. Of course, the call to rediscover the charism required of us to return to St. Francis himself. About that there is no argument. The complaint being made here concerns the well-nigh exclusive preoccupa-tion with the early years of the order's life, which drasticallyotruncates the order's charism. Many reasons might be suggested to explain this restrictive version of the charism. I wish to single out,the one which bears most responsibility. It is romanticism. Romanticism has exercised far too much influence on judgments of the order's history since the death of St. Francis. It has given the order a bad conscience, especially over the last eighty years or so since Paul Sabatier's views became common patrimony? What we can describe in general terms as the "Fioretti-picture" of the early years, has exercised inordinate influence over the general public and over the scholarly fraternity, particularly its non-Catholic representatives. We need to be on our guard in the presence of romantics. Their understandable sadness at the way the order developed can have the most extraordinary effe°ct on how they .read the sources . ,~,J When the, Franciscan Order, for example, in late fourteenth-century English history is described.by students of Wyclif, Chaucer and Langlan~d ,as "decadent" I have often concluded that we really ought to read in many cases no~t "decadent" but,"different"--that is, different from the little band of beggars which landed at Dover in September 1224 and different from the early days at Rivo Torto. Disapl;ginted and sad romantics are a dangerous breed. The "romantic myth" has had profound .though subconscious influence on the order, It has subtly brainwashed~ us into believing that if only we could repeat as " closely as ,possible the form of life which .S~. Francis led, if only we could do away with the ~whole intellectual edifice which the orde{ constructed for itself, then we would be true and authentic Franciscans. From these remarks it will be clear where we intend to place the locus of the original Franciscan charism. According to our view the original charism is to be sou.ght in the period~from the approval of the Rule in 1209 up to the death of John Duns Scotus in 1308. To return to the sources means, for a Franciscan, a return to the first hundred years of develop- :~Vie de S. Francois d'Assise, l~dition drfinitive (Paris: Fischbache'r, 1931). 16 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/1 ment in doctrine and life. The fullness of the charism is to be found there and not exclusively in the life and teaching of St. Francis. It is quite legiti-mate, in function of. this, to consider the Franciscan charism under two headings: form of life and Christological doctrine. The first concerns the evolution of the order's life in the thirteenth century. The second concerns the development of the Christology in the Franciscan School in the thir-teenth century. The results of historical analysis show that the form of Franciscan life changed radically from what St. Francis had intended and that the Christological doctrine of the Franciscan School remained totally faithful to his original Christocentric inspiration. The ,Form of Life The foundation of the Franciscan Order in the thirteenth century marked a new stage in the history of the religious life in the Wefftern Church. While it. is clearly the case that St. Francis intended to establish an order in the commonly accepted sense of that term, it is equally clear that he was conscious of its radical newness. According to his intention, the order was to be a brotherhood of itinerant apostles--whether priests or manual workers, or, as we should say today, professional men--who would go into a society that was still Christian and also go out to foreign lands among the ~Saracens, to spread the gospel of peace and reconciliation by the ministry of the Word and the apostolate of presence. For a period of time that intention was realized. Whenever the friars met they showed that they were members of the same fraternity and they offered one another mutual help and support. At the end of their day's work they returned to their small communities to be refreshed bodily and spiritually, to pray together, and to draw strength from their fraternal cele-bration of the Eucharist. Thus renewed and restored, they were able to return to their mission of sharing with others what they themselves had re-ceived so generously from being together in the "local church" 6f their own community. As is universally ~recognized, this did not remain for very long the pat-tern of life of the order. Due to internal tensions and from ~xternal pres-sures from the demands of the apostolate at the time and from the wishes ~f the Holy See, the order was compelled to take a line of development which° radically changed what St. Francis had intended and what the original form of life had been. There are those who look upon this as a Salutary de-velopment, precisely because it took place ultimately under the authority and guidance of the Holy See. While this attitude demands sor~e respect, it also creates difficulties in ,deciding which has priority between the poles of institution and charism. In responding to the call to rediscover its original charism (and it was the institution which gave the call) the Franciscan Order found itself in a slightly embarrassing position. As it retracted the steps of its development Re[tebtions on the Franciscan Charism / 17 through a very checkered history back to the thirteenth centur);, it discovered that.~it was largely due to the institution that an important element in its charism :h~id been lost. The loose structure of its form of life had been heavily instituti6nalized and the fraternity had been "monastified" and "hierarch-ized" almost beyond recognition. Institution and Charism From the outset there has been tension in the Franciscan Order between charism and institution. St. Francis himself, who is always proclaimed as a most obedient son of the Holy Roman Church, managed to get his own way with the wily and astute Pope Innocent IIl. One wonders what would have been the outcome if the pope had refused him permission to live his very distinctive interpretation of the Gospel. Perhaps he would have be-come a hermit. To the end of his days, in any case, he remained convinced that what he desired his order to be was completely at one with the will of God." The turn of events in the thirteenth century gaye the order a very dif-ferent character from that which it possessed in its early decades. The con-stitutional development from the late 1230's up to the Chapter of Nar-bonne in 1260 is the history of a gradual "monastification" of the order. This cannot in justice be laid exclusively at the door of St. Bonaventure, for the winds of change had already been blowing for nearly thirty years when he was elected Minister General." By the end of the thirteenth century the order had been substantially altered, due in 'large measure to the institu-tional Church, for what were undoubtedly the most laudable ends. Of course, there were also internal reasons for the change and it would '1See Lawrence C. Landini, The Causes o] the Clericalization O[ the Order o] Friars Minor 1209-1260 in the Light o] Early Franciscan Sottrces (Chicago: Franciscan Herald Press, 1968). We have given rio consideration here to St. Bonaventure's theology of history nor to his eschatological interpretation of the life of St. Francis. These highly developed aspects of St. Bonaventure's thought played no significant part in the order's self-understanding and program of renewal during the past decade. For this reason we have not touched on his solution of the "Franciscan Question." This omission, therefore, should not be understood as a value judgment. Our concern is ¯ with those aspects of the original charism which have been re-discovered and, with varying degrees of success, reduced to practice, and with other aspects which deserve further consideration, which ought to influence the o.rder's continuing renewal. St. Bonaventure's eschatological interpretation of St. Francis is, in our view, the most satisfactory solution to the problem about th~ order's relation to St. Francis. It is, however, not only, satisfactory; it is" also fully consonant with the way the early sources present him and the ~rimitive community. It has most relevance in any dis-cussion of Franciscan poverty, for it raises the question not only whether the order can or cannot observe St. Francis' poverty, but whether or not it is even meant to observe it. To assess St. Bonaventure's place in the development of the order in the thii'teenth century, without taking into serious account his theology, of history and his eschatological interpretation of St. Francis, leads to profound misunderstanding of that development and commits injustice against St. Bonaventure. Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/1 be unhistorical to place responsibility entirely on the Holy See.-It is no idle speculation to ponder what the order might have been, had it not experi-enced the process of clericalization in the thirteenth century and had Friar Elias not alienated so many while he held office. But in the final analysis, one is compelled to conclude that the Holy See can hardly be :said to havi~ done all in its power to preserve what St. Francis so plainly intended. This was the result of tension between charism and institution. The Church ha~s known this tension in varying degrees of intensity ever since the New Testament, and perhaps." never so acutely as over the last two decades. Tension arises precisely because both institution and charism proceed from the grace of God. Charisms are given to the Church for the sake of the institution; the prophet is alw~iys sent to renew the institution. The sad story is, however, that so often the institution resists the charism because'it threatens the established order; it leads out into the unknown and the uncharted. The temptation for the institution is always to neutralize a charism by institutionalizing it. This is not done maliciously or even con-sciously. But it is done and it is done effectively. The intentions of St. Francis could not easily be categorized. They were not neat and tidy, cut and dried, but on the contrary, like himself; paradoxical and a fraction complicated. I have never believed that this passionate, romantic and ambitious young man was ever as simple as some of his biographers have inade out. Of course, he did not have a legal mind; he had the soul of a poet'sand poets are notoriously difficult to pin down. In his own head ior perhaps better: in his own heart) everything was crystal clear: he. wanted to 'live the life of the gospel according to the form that God 'had revealed to him. One can sympathize with Rome, ithei:efore,t whose genius has always been principa!ly of the legal order. How does one categorize an intention that expresses itself in a Rule for itinerant apostles which is identified with the gospel, and in another for hermitages that al-lows for a change of rbles between Martha and Mary according to what seems best for the moment? Aspects of the Charism Rediscovered In going back to its original inspiration, the Franciscan Order knew in its heart that,~it simply could not recreate in our time the full intentions of St. Francis. However, it has mandged to reintroduce some of the essential elements of his charism, and what it has done is a sple6did achievement. 1. Over the last ten years the order has "de-monastified" itself and restored in principle its truly fraternal character. It is now more obviously an Order of Friars, some of whom are engaged in priestly work, others in manual work inside'~and outside the order and still others who Are engaged in professional work. There is a deep consciousness of what it means e~xistenti~ally to be a Franciscan friar. This consciousness is growing alsace and it will ultimately be in complete possession. Reflections on the Franciscan Charism / 19 2. There has also been a gradual "de-clericalization" of the order. This does not necessarily mean a reduction in the number of priests (though this will happen, I think) nor does it imply, nor should it ever have im-plied, an anti-priest complex, The order was unfortunately plagued .with that complex for a period after the Council. To be a priest does not neces-sarily mean to be clericalized. There are many young priests, middle-aged p~iests and elderly priests in the order who are most certainly not clerical-ized; but then there are some who .are. Clericalization creates an elite and a,:caste system. There is no true place for an elite or a caste system in the Franciscan Order, nor, for that mat~.er, .in the Church at large. The Church knows no hierarchy of persons but acknowledges only a hierarchy of func-tions and at its pinnacle is service. Moreover, authority has been restored to its original role, according to the understanding of St. Francis, as a ministry and service to the friars. This has had its influence also on the gradual abolition of hierarchical structures from the order. 3. Experiments of living the Franciscan life in small communities have proved in the main successful and have undoubtedly enriched the quality of community life. This has been one of the most significant contributions of all our efforts to restore the fraternal character of the order. There have been losses, excesses and mistakes. But these are negligible when compared with the gains, the openness and the insights we have harvested. Franciscan life in small communities or groups has. proved to be far more demanding on the individual friar than it ever ~was in the heavily structured .forms of life we knew for so long, Our experiences have taught us that life in small communities requires a high degree of human and Christian maturity: For life thus lived is a creative process, not a structured, unchanging pattern into which one is fitted. 4. Many of these small communities have been established in the center of towns and cities where the realities of modern living, its pressures and demands may be witnessed and experienced at first hand. A number of friars in such communities have taken up ~work in social organizations often not' instituted by the Church nor directly connected with it. These developments have given concrete expression to other aspects of the original charism and primitive form of life. Unlike~the older monastic orders, the friars settled in the heart~ iof towns and cities where they were brought face to face with the social evils of the time: As a result, the Franciscans were closely con-nected with the foundation of medieval guilds, the ,distant0ancestors of the modern trade unions. They supported the organization of workers into guilds. which protected the legitimate material interests of the workers and fur-thered their spiritual lives. Some of the charters of these guil~ls were drawn up in the refectories of the friars or on the altars of their churches. Later on, in the fifteenth century, the iniquities of t~sury led the Franciscans to establish the Montes Pietatis--an institution which guarantees them a place for all time in social history. All these developments may be traced back 20 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/1 to St. Francis himself who, from the outset of his conversion, was involved in caring for lepers, one of the greatest social evils of the Middle Ages. The modern form of the apostolate of presence: living at the heart of urban life and working from within non-ecclesiastical social structures, is really a reduction to practice of The Canticle o[ Brother Sun 'and of St. Bonaventure's beautiful work On Retracing the Arts to Theology. For the Franciscan there is no distinction between the sacred and the profane. The problems of what is described as secularization prove for a Franciscan to be false problems~ This is now simply man's world and man is made in the image of Christ and Christ is the image of the Father we cannot see. The Spirituality of St. Francis The rediscovery of the basic elements of Franciscan spirituality has been the most rewarding of all. A comparative study of the spirituality of the Conciliar documents and the writings of St. Francis shows how incredibly modern this very medieval man turns out to be. His spirituality is simply Jesus Christ. The thoroughly biblical and sacramental, above all eucharistic, char-acter of his piety and holiness make it clear that it was our spirituality and practices of piety that had to be brought up-to-date, renewed and reformed, not his! There is nothing nauseating about his spirituality, nothing repulsive about his piety. There° is not one line, not one word, in the expressions of his evangelical holiness that need be changed, corrected or expunged. He loved the God-Man in all his poverty and humanity, in all his kindness and suffering. He loved him absolutely, without qualification. He loved Christ not only with his whole heart, but with his whole soul and mind and strength. His conversion was complete because it was born of love. Every-thing he said and sang, everything he desired and longed for, his every though and deed, came from and led back directly to his love of Jesus Christ. The most distinctive feature of his holiness is its tenderness. And it bears that feature because he was a passionate man. He did not extinguish in himself the fire of passion; he redirected it by grace into the love of Christ, where it burned more ardently in the all-consuming flame of the love of Christ's heart for the Father and for all creation. Our renewed understanding of the totally Christocentric spirituality of St. Francis has Shown the order that in its common life of prayer it does not need a multiplication of devotions and practices of piety. To: be faithful to the spirituality of St. Francis requires of the friars to live and work, to think and pray;" after the example of the life Jesus led on earth, by the power of his glorified existence with the Father, in the beauty of his vestiges and images in creation, according to the message of his Word, through his selfless love in the Blessed Eucharist and together with his brethren in the Church. All of which may be summarized by saying that we must live by his threefold presence in our midst; his verbal presence (the proclamation Reflections on the Franciscan Charism of the gospel, among us); his sacramental presence (preeminently the eucharistic celebration); his mystical,.pregence (the community of believers which gathers to proclaim and celebrate his victory over death and his faith-ful witness' to love). The Tension That Remains "~ None of these changes according to~ the form of the original charism has been achieved without suffering and bitterness; This is the sad side. to the history' of renewal and reform in the Church generally. However, it was an inevitable and predictable concomitant to the renewal from the begin-ning and it is,'rooted in the tension between institution and charism. The movement for reform initiated by the Council brought to the surface two diametrically opposed views of the Church which have been labeled, not satisfactorily though not unjustly, as reactionary-conservative and liberal-progressive. The fears of the former soon turned to suspicion; the enthusi-asm of the latter speedily became intrlerance. And for a time the .result was deadlock and suffering on both sides. Tension between institution and charism can be healthy and construc-tive. It can also be deadly and,destructive if attitudes polarize. As an out-come of the changes in the order's form of life there was a polarization of attitudes. Two basic attitudes emerged which differed radically about what had taken place and" what were being predicted as the .lines of future development. The attitudes correspond to the labels reactionary and liberal. The tension between these polarized attitudes 'is by no means as acute now as it was five years ago, but it is still present. From a state of complete in-ability to communicate, a modus vivendi was eventually found, based on an unspoken and precarious truce to steer clear of all that might open the wounds. Now, thanks to more openness ~on the one side and.greater tolerance on the other, the truce has given place to a willingness to dialogue and the gigns areothat the tension will become creative. Up to the present, however, while having had some creative and productive effect, it has been largely negative and counter,productive. Two "orders" have been existing side by side in the one order. But now the signs are that they are growing towar~s unity once more. This tension continues to exist in varying degrees of intensity through-out all the provinces of the order. To a greater or less extent it concerns every aspect of the charism in relation to our form of life and every attempt to reduce it to practice. But the deepest tension has been caused by the opposing views on what may be described as the order's apostolate of presence. The one view maintains that it is our vocation to engage in priestly ministerial work, in charitable works centered upon our friaries ~and in domestic works within the friaries, which latter ensure that they remain habitable and in good condition, so that the former works may be carried 22 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/1 on with competence and efficiency. To these works the major part of the order is now committed and thi~ commitment has come to pass by the demands made upon us and the indications given to us by °the institutional Church, whether the Holy See or the diocesan bishops. These works; it is argued, have been assigned to us by the 'authority of the Church and there-fore they are clearly what we are meant to do unde'i: God: Furthermore, they put us in direct contact with the evolution of the order as this took place under the guidance of the Holy .See in the thirteenth century. This is a version of the adage, "Roma locuta est"; it gives priority to the institu-tion. It maintains that priestly work is the ~paradigm of the Franciscan apostolate. This view is prepared to admit that some friars might well work in other forms of the apostolate which are .neither priestly nor ministerial nor centered upon a friary. These forms of the"apostolate, however, have significance only insofar as they~ proceed ultimately from the priestly min-istry and eventually lead back to it. The other view maintains that it is our vocation to spread the gospel message by our presence in the world. This can be fulfilled in a large variety of ways; by priestly ministerial work and charitable works centered upon our friaries; by priestly ministerial work and charitable works not centered upon our friaries; by domestic work inside and, outside our friaries; by professional work outside the friaries in ecclesiastical institutions-or non-ecclesiastical institutions~ by taking up salaried trades and professions out-side ecclesiastical institutions. This view, it is argued, is in direct continuity with the earliest years of the order's history and is a version of the saying of St. Francis that the Holy Spirit is the Minister General of the Order; it gives priority to the original charism. It holds that there is no special paradigm for the Franciscan apostolate and that the order must balance the demands made by the institution with the clear requirements of the charism, even if this means that we may have to sacrifice some of the areas in which we are exclusively committed to priestly ministerial work. Due to circumstances we could neither foresee nor control, these two views eventually reached the compromise of co-existence and then entered into dialogue. The circumstances which brought them together were the overall decrease in numbers of those entering the order, the high figure of those who left the order and an extraordinary awareness of the original charism among the majority of those who seek to enter~the order. This last phenomenon is remarkable, Its major effect has been that entrants to the order express their vocation simply in terms of wanting to be friars with-out further qualification.This is a reliable sign of how the future of the order will evolve. Christology and the Franciscan School . Earlier in this paper we insisted that the original charism of the order is to be sought not exclusively in the life and teaching of St. Francis but Reflections on the Franciscan Charism in the whole period that extends to the death of Duns Scotus, the last of the major representatives of the Franciscan School of Theology. We must examine the reasons which jrstify this position. During the period up to the death of Duns Scotus theologians of the order worked out a doctrine of the person and work of Christ and of his l~lace in the oikumene and cosmos that is as beautiful as it is original and as inspiring as it is profound. It stands out as a remarkable contribution to the development of Christology in the Church. Any study'or presentation of the original F.ranciscan charism that limits itself to the life of St. Francis not only misrepresents that charism, but also does disservice and injustice to the Church by depriving her of what,belongs to her by right. The Christo~ logical teaching of the Franciscan School is as much an essential element of the Franciscfin charism as is the fraternal character of the early order, ,the apostolate of presence, the Rule o/ 1221, the Rule ]or Hdrmitages, The Canticle of Brother Sun and the Rule of 1223. What Fr. Zachary Hayes, O.F.M. has written about the philosophy of education in the spirit of St. Bonaventure, may be applied without qualification to the Christological doctrine of the whole Franciscan School: : Those of us who stand heirs to that tradition have a weighty obligation to ~ee that such a tradition be not lost and that it be brought to bear in our world today. That it should have.come to be deposited with such clarity and power in the order that claims the poor, s~mple man of Assisi as its founder will no doubt puzzle those who tend to limit the meaning of that order in an unhistori-cal and arbitrary way. That its outstanding spokesman should be a Franciscan does not make it the private possession of the order. For what the order car-rieshere as in an earthen vessel is a treasure for the whole of the Church and a heritage for mankind as such. Certainly the order would be unfaithful to its tradition and remiss in its obligation to the Church and the world if'it were not to thke up" this tradition anew, in a creative way, in"a world for which one of the,most pervasive and potentially destructive idols is the ideal of rational control.'~ The Constitutions of the Order The General Constitutions of the order published in 1953 state in Arti-cle 238, par. 6:~.~'In the philosophical and theological faculties the lectors shall earnestly endeavour to follow the Franciscan School; they shall hold in high regard the other Scholastics, especially the Angelic Doctor, .St. Thomas, the Heavenly Patron of,Catholic Schools.''° Despite this exhorta-tion, however, the order as a whole has not endeavored as earnestly as it might have done to follow its own school. The manuals of philosophy and z",Toward a Philosophy of Education in the Spirit of St. Bonaventure," Proceedings ol the Seventh Centenary Celebration o/ the Death o] Saint Bonaventure (The Fran-ciscan Institute: St. Bonaventure, N.Y., 1975), 26-27. 6The Rule and Constitutions o] the Order o] Friars Minor (Rome, 1953), 100. 24 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/1 theology, ,which were the staple intellectual diet of most of the houses of study in the ordei'~ were composed chiefly by authors of the Thomistic tradition (not always the same as the tradition of St. Thomas!), who tended to reduce the contents of the Franciscan tradition at best to footnotes and scholia, at worst, to being adverse to the thesis advanced. The high place accorded to St. Thomas in Catholic theology and the fact that he received honorable mention in the Code o] Canon Law made him the touchstone of orthodoxy and the gauge of true Catholic doctrine. The second title given to him--the Common Doctor--resulted in every other doctor becoming for the most part decidedly uncommon. In comparing the Dominican and Fran-ciscan Orders we find that the former exalted St. Thomas and tended to forget St. Dominic; the latter exalted St. Francis and tended to forget St. Bonaventure. Thus it is that we speak of the Thomistic School, not the Dominican School; of the Franciscan School, not the Bonaventurian School. This latter designation has further significance, as will be seen below. , In the Revised General Constitutions promulgated by the Minister General in December 1973, it is stated.in Article 20, par. 1: "Mental prayer should be based on the writings and example of Francis and on the teaching of the Franciscan masters. Nevertheless, each friar is free to choose the method~of prayer that suits him"r; in Article 170, par. 2: "Theological edu-cation should be encouraged in the order with special care. The greatest at-tention shouldobe given to the preparation of expert teachers of theology who will administer spirit and life after the intent of Francis and the other masters of the order"; ibid., par. 4: "Where there are no houses of study of the order, students should be given lectures on the~history and teaching of the Franciscan School"8; in the Introduction to Chapter Six: Formation to Franciscan LiIe: "Franciscan pedagogy, according to a thought-plan (dialec-tic) which continually renews itself, takes as its greater and most difficult task to bring together the divine with the human--a process begun by St, Francis and set in logical order by the Masters of the Franciscan School, a process rightly styled "thought in acting"--in other words, love.''° It is to be hoped that the spirit behind these statements in the new Constitutions will prevail over the strange indifference to the Franciscan theological tradition that has characterized the order in modern times and that it will eradicate the dull anti-intellectual element in the order which re-sulted from that fatal romanticism mentioned earlier. This anti-intellectual element has been making itself felt ifl'various parts of the order over the past few years. Its root lies in a subconscious belief that there is something rThe Plan ]or Franciscan Living. The Rule and General Constitutions o[ the Order of Friars Minor (English-Speaking Conference of Provincials: Pulaski, Wisconsin, 1974), 70. ,~ Slbid., 147, 148. °Ibid., 129-130. ~ Re~qections on the Franciscan Charism not quite authentic about a learned Franciscan or a Franciscan who wishes to devote his life to study. The popular picture of the Franciscan friar has had a surreptitious influence on the order. The Franciscan is expected to be a jolly friar, simple to the point of lunacy, preferably rotund in shape and bald into the bargain, rfiddy-face.d and definitely not learned, who trips through the world hoping to get a good dinner, but happy to sing to the sun if he does not. This picture is reproduced each year on hundreds of Christ-mas cards all over the world. (I have made a collection of the more amusing ones!) The irony of the popular picture is that it bears no resemblance what-ever to the first Franciscan, St. Francis himself was a man of joy, but in "no sense could he be called jolly; he had the simplicity of the dove but also the cunning of the serpent, just as the gospel says; he was a small man, thin and emaciated; not bald, but shaven-headed; his skin was delicate and his flesh very spare;1" though not learned in a bookish sense, he knew French, wrote tolerably good Latin, composed a very beautiful song and was ac-quainted with the intricacies of the cloth trade and he had some idea about building. His attitude to learning is at best ambiguous. In any case he ad-vocated reverence for theologians and Scripture scholars and he warned even those who work with their hands not to allow their work to extinguish the spirit of prayer and devotion. Despite Masseron's .fear that if St. Francis were to return to earth today, he would probably consign a Franciscan bibliography to Brother Fire,ll I am convinced that he would not destroy the sermons of St. Anthony, the works of St. Bonaventure nor the third book of Duns Scotus' Commentary on the Sentences. The Development of Christology ,. It is noteworthy and encouraging that the Renewed Constitutions ex-plicitly link the teaching of the Franciscan masters of St. Francis himself. Specifically, the Christological doctrine of the Franciscan School took its origin from the insight of St. Francis into .the absolute centrality of the Word-made-flesh. His spirituality was centered totally on Christ. He gave concrete expression to it in devotion to the Crib, to our Blessed, Lady-- precisely because she made the Lord of Majesty our brother, to the Passion and Cross, to the Word of God in Scripture and to the Blessed Eucharist. To read of the imprinting of the stigmata on his poor body comes hardly as a surprise after a life spent in total conformity to the Gospel Christ. His initial encounter with Christ issued in a desire to imitate the life of a0See the description of St. Francis given in I, Cel. 83 in English Omnibus Edition o[ the Sources, 298-299. 11Alexandre Masseron, The Franciscans. Tr. W. B. Wells (New York, 1932). 4: "What would St. Francis, if he returned to earth today, have to say to anyone who was rash enough to show him a Franciscan bibliography? Is it not to be feared that 'our Brother Fire' would be charged with settling the fate of a work of such un-wieldy uselessness?". 26 / R~view lor Religious, Volume 36, 1977/1 Christ in its every detail, to follow in the very footsteps of Christ:To follow the footsteps of Christ was for' Francis to take the Way that leads back to the Father. Though his heart and soul were .centered on the poverty and humility of Jesus in the New Testament, whereby the Rule and life.of his order became, synonymous with observing the gospel, there is no exclusive concern with the so-called,"simple" Jesus of history in the life and writings of St. Francis. He embraced a life of poverty in imitation of Christ who "is the glorious Word of the Father, so holy and exalted, whose coming the Father made known by St. Gabriel the Archangel to the glorious and blessed Virgin Mary, in whose womb. he took on our weak human nature. He was rich beyond measure and yet he and his holy Mother chose poverty.''1"-' This humiliation which the Word of the Father freely chose for our sake, is daily renewed on our altars: "Every day he humbles himself just as he did when he came from his heavenly throne (Ws 18: 15) into the Virgin's womb; every day he comes to us and lets us. see him in abjection, when he descends from the bosom of the Father into the hands of the priest at the altar?'1,~ There are three texts in the writings of St. Francis which in our opinion contain the seeds of the future development of Christology in the Franciscan School. If these were all he had left us, they would be more than sufficient as the foundation of the Franciscan School. The first is to be found in the fifth Admonition: "Try to realize the digqity God has conferred on you. He created and formed your body in the image of his beloved Son and your soul in his own likeness (see GO 1:26).''~4 The second is in the first paragraph of his Letter to All Clerics: "Indeed in this world there is noth-ing of the Most High himself that we can possess and contemplate with our eyes, except his Body and Blood, his name and his words, by which we were created and by which we have been brought back from death to life.''~'~ The third is found 'in the Letter to a General Chapter: "Kissing your feet with all the love I 'am capable of, I beg you to show the greatest possible reverence and honour for the most holy Body and Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ through whom all things, whether on the earth or in the heav-ens, have been brought to peace and reconciled with Almighty God (see .Col l:20).v~ There is a fair amount of deep theology in the writings of St. Francis, but nowhere is this more clearly attested than in these texts. Their depths and the implications they contain will be obvious to any student of St. Bonaventure or Duns Scotus. With regard to the first text, we may ask if St. Francis meant to say that the body of the Word Incarnate was the lz"Letter to all the Faithful" in English Omnibus Edition o] the Sources, 93. a3"First Admonition," ibid., 78. ~4English Omnibi~s Edition, 80; .a~lbid;, 101. ~qbid., 104. Re[tections on the Franciscan Charism blueprint used by God in the creation of Adam? He states explicitly: "He created and formed your body in the image of his beloved Son." The Son as Son has no body; it is the Son as Word-Incarnate who possesses a body. Whether or not St. Francis was aware of the implications of what he wrote, these lines evoke at once Duns Scotus' doctrine of the ~absolute primacy of Christ. Furthermore it would not be difficult at all to trace St. Bonaven-ture's entire theology of creation and incarnation ~back to the two latter texts .we quoted. St. Anthony, St. Bonaventure and Duns Scotus 1. The Christological teaching of the Franciscan School found its earli-est expression in the setmons of St: Anthony of Padua. Already therein we find contained the doctrine of the primacy of Christ, for which Scotus is so justly acclaimed. St. Anthony shows a preference for the symbol of the circle of egression and return of which St. Bonaventure made such pro-found and superb use in his theology of the Word and creation?r 2. It is, however, St. Bonaventure himself who gave the most complete theological formulation to the Christological insights of St~ Francis. He is the mystical theologian par excellence of the Franciscan Order and in him the~ School reached the high point of its development, He belongs to the tradition.in the Church which has its origin in the Greek and Latin Fathers, according to which the work of the theologian and the ministry of preach-ing are understood to be.no more ~than different modalities of one and the selfsame service of the Word of God, Every concrete form in'which St, Francis expressed his devotion to the poor and humble Christ, is paralleled by a mystical work in the Bonaven-turian corpus, For example, to the crib at Greccio corresponds the beautiful work On the Five Feasts of the.Child Jesus; to St. Francis's reverence for the Blessed Eucharist corresponds the work On How to .Prepare for the Celebration of Mass18; to his devotion to the Passion and Cross of Christ correspond St. Bonaventure's The Tree of Life and The Mystical Vine.l'J St. ~Bonav.enture's !heology of the Word may be summarized as follows: the Word is the inner expression of the Father and the world is the outer expression of t_he Son. Creation gives outward expression to the inner Word of the Father, With the advent of man, the Word of God 5s spoken in a ~rSee V. Schaaf, 'O.F.M., Saint-Antoine de Padoue. Docteur de I'Eglise (Montreal: Editions Franciscaines, 1946); T. Plassmann, O.F.M., "St. Anthony the Theologian;" St. Anthony o] Padua Doctor o] the Church: Universal Souvenir o] the Commemora-tive Ceremonies (Washington, D.C., 1946), 49-70. J. Heerinckx, O.F.M., "Antoine de Padoue," Dictionnaire de Spiritualitd~ 1, 714-717. a,~The Works o[ Bonaventure. Tr. Jose de Vinck. Ili: Opuscula, Second Series (Pater-son, N.J., St. Anthony Guild Press, 1966), 197-214; 215-238. V.qbid., I: Mystical Opuscula (Paterson, N.J., St. Anthony Guild Press, 1960), 95- 144; 145-205. Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/1 radically new way, for it now opens the possibility of the most perfect out-ward expression of God's inner Word in the Incarnation of the Word: the Man, Jesus of Nazareth. By the enfleshmcnt of the Word, the words already spoken by God in every creature throughout all creation can be heard un-ambiguously for what they are: revelations of God. As the Eternal Word is the Center of the Trinity, so the Incarnate Word is the Center of every-thing outside the 'Trinity. Nothing can be known unless it is known through Christ. At every level and in all orders of reality Jesus Christ is Mediator. To have true knowledge of God, man and the cosmos we must take faith as our starting point. From this we may then proceed to reason in order to know whatdt may discover about God, man and the cosmos.-"° This latter aspect of St. Bonaventure's world view has a relevance today which it would be difficult to overestimate. It concerns particularly the separation between philosophy of God and theology in Catholic institutes of education which has had deplorable effects on intellectual formation.'-'1 A return to the con-creteness of St. Bonaventure's method will teach us to distinguish, but not separate, a philosophy of God from theology. The correct method is to treat the theology of God first. After St. Clare I know of no one who loved St. Francis more than St. Bonaventure did. His sermons on St. Francis show him to have agonized in loving astonishment at what God had done in the person and life of the poor Francis of Assisi.~'-' Everything St. Bonaventure strove after in his study of the Word of God he found realized in St~ Francis. Of all the vir-tues which St. Francis possessed, St. Bonaventure avowed that he admired most his poverty and humility. He laid.down at the feet of St. Francis the powers of his brilliant mind and the rich treasures of his wide and deep learn-ing. Thus it was in his own act of humility that St. Bonaventure proved that after all a learned man can be holy and be saved! ,~ 3. In the teaching on the absolute primacy of Christ, Duns Scotus put the final touches to the Christological doctrine of the Franciscan School. The '-'°For recent presentations of the Christology of St. Bonaventure see the important studi+s by Zachary~Hayes, O.F.M., "'Revelation in Christ," Proceedin~,s o[ the Seventh Cehtenary Celebration o] the Death o[ St. Bonaventure (The Franciscan Institute: St. Bonaventure, N.Y., 1975), 29-43; "The Meaning of Convenientia in the Meta-physics of St. Bonaventure," Franciscan Studies, vol. 34, Annual XII, 1974, 74-100; "Incarnation and ~.reation in the Theology of St. Bonaventure," Studies Honoring Ignatius Charles Brady. Friar Minor. Ed. R. S. Almagno, O.F.M. and C. L. Harkins, O.F.M. (The Franciscan Institute: St: Bonaventure, N.Y., 1976), 309-329. See also Ignatius Brady, O.F.M., "St. Bonaventure's Theology of the Imitation of Christ," Proceedings of the Seventh Centenary Celebration o[ the Death of St. Bonaventure (The Franciscan Institute: St. Bonaventure, N.Y. 1975), 61-72. '-qSee: B. J. F. Lonergan, S.J., Philosophy o[ God and Theology (The Westminster Press: Philadelphia, 1973). :zSee his five sermons on St. Francis in Opera Omnia IX (Ad Claras Aquas, 1901), 573-597. We are preparing an edition and translation of these sermons. Relqections on the Franciscan Charism / 29 Incarnation is not occasioned by sin, though sin affected its modality. Scotus is not indifferent to evil and sin in the world, nor does he merely juggle with hypotheses. But the destruction of sin and evil is no more than a moment in God's movement out of himself towards the world, to unite all creation in the Love that is forever. The most recent and famous formulation of this doctrine has been made by Teilhard de Chardin in terms of an evolving cosmos. °Speaking of the Scotistic doctrine with Padre Allegra, Teilhard ex-claimed:"' v'o"l~a," la th6ologie c'osmique; voile, la th6ologie de l'avenir"--a cosmic theology, a theology of the future. Because of the unambiguous value it places on creation, one can readily understand why this,, doctrine is so attractive to the French Co.rnmunist philosopher, Roger Garaudy.'-''~ These brief reflections on the development of Christology from St. Fran-cis himself to the School which has from him its name, make it clear that Franciscan Christology is a structural element in the original Franciscan charism. If it is ignored .or neglected, then the charism itself is impaired. Charism and Ongoing Renewal As the order moves on towards the beginning of the third millennium of the Church's history, it will continue to adapt and renew itself accord-ing to the spirit of its original ,charism. In the process of on'going renewal the following aspects of the charism will need to be giveo more serious con-sideration: 1. Public witness--minimum structure." The "monastification" of the order was an undesirable development, not merely because it led to a dull uniformity and reduced individuality to a minimum, but also because it .imposed,a superstructure of organization on the order's life which virtually abolished one of the most characteristic aspects of the Franciscan charism. This is the genius of living a publicreligious life in the Church (St. Francis founded an order) with a minimum amount of structure (St. Francis was conscious of its original newness.). It is among the order's most attractive and, at the same time, most deman.ding characteristics. It is attractive be-cause it manifests the freedom won for us in Christ Jesus; it is for the order a sacrament of freedom from the :burden of the Law. It is demanding because it places firmly on the shoulders of each member of a community full re, sponsibility for every facet of communal life. Community life is an ongoing process, created by the uniqueness and originality of its several members and it issues in a unity which is something more than the mere sum total of the individuals. In such a process no one can shirk responsibility without setting back this process and thus injuring community life. An important area in which this aspect of the charism should exercise maximum influence is formation. The whole process of formation must have 23See Eric Doyle, O.F.M., "John Duns Scotus and the Place of Christ," The Clergy Review, vol. LVII, Sept. 1972, 667-675; Oct. 1972, 774-785; Nov. 1972, 860-868. Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/1 as its "chief aim the active reception by each friar of total responsibility for 6ur way of life, where the duty of each is to help the others to glow in wis-dom and maturity before~ God and man. The capacity and willingness to ¯ accept this responsibility may be taken as the touchstone of suitability for this way of life. 2. The Rule for Hermitages:'''~ Thomas of Celano in his Second Life tells us that St. Francis "wanted his brothers to live not only in the cities, but also in hermitages." This element of the charism has had effect in some provinces and it is recommended and encouraged in the Renewed Constitu-tions."-'~' It is clear from the short Rule for Hermitages that St. Francis .wished his order to lead not only a "mixed" life'--that is, one devoted to prayer and the apostolate---but to hold within itself at one and. the same time the two distinct expressions., of the.religious life: the active and the contempla-tive: The contemplative life he intended as a permanent feature of the order's existence in the world. It is interesting to recall in this context that both the Rule of the Friars Minor (for itinerant apostles) and the Rule of St. Clare (for enclosed contemplatives) are identified with life according to the Holy Gospel. In our opinion the notion of a "hermitage" should not be confused with a. "house of prayer." Houses of prayer, to which friars may resort for shorter or longer periods of recollection, do not fulfill adequately what St. Francis appears to have intended. It seems that he wanted the contemplative life to be a permanent feature of the life of the First Order. If our view here is correct, then there should be a place in the order for the exclusively contemplative life. On this understanding a "hermitage" and a "house of prayer" are quite distinct notions. The former should be employed uniquely to describe a community of friars dedicated exclusively to the contemplative life. The feature's that would distinguish a Franciscan contemplative community from the older monastic forms of the contemplative life would be precisely the minimum structure and the far smaller number in the community.-Whether the number would have to be restricted to three or four, as is mentioned in the Rule [or Hermitages, is a matter that calls for further discussion. It may not be possible for every province of the order to have'a hermi-tage (or hermitages) as a permanent feature of its life. Perhaps, therefore, hermitages could be instituted at the inter-provincial level and be made open tO international membership. Such contemplative communities in the order would give fine expression to this. element of the Franciscan charism. The reference made above to the Rule of the Poor Clares recalls what St. Francis wrote down in the Form of Life for St. CIare: ~'I desire and promise you personally and in the name,~of my friars that I will always have the same loving care and solicitude for you as for them." Their way of life "-4English Omnibus Edition of the Sources, 72-73. '-'SThe Plan ]or Franciscan Living, Articles 28-31. Reflections on the,~Franciscan Charism / 31 was very dear to St. Francis both because he loved St. Clare and because he himself was strongly attracted to the contemplative life. The First Order today should show the same loving care for the Poor Clares and there ought to be more frequent and closer contact between the first and second branches of the order. By so doing we would be more faithful to St. Francis and we would be helped considerably to.discern our own charism more clearly. 3. The Rule of 1221.""-~ Although the Rule of 1223, which gave the FrancisCan Order its legal" basis, and the Rule of 1221, which never re-ceived papal approval, both contain the spirit of St; Franci.s, it could be argued that the latter is a finer expression of that spirit than the former. This is not to deny that the Rule of 1223 is more a spiritual document than legal code. Nevertheless, it is just that one step removed from the earliest expression of the form of life and, therefore, just that little further from the original charism. .,, In terms of continuing renewal, the directives of the seventh chapter of the Rule of 1221 raise important questions for ,the future development of the order. The chapter is titled: "Work and the Service of Others." It con-cerns the friars who are engaged in the service of lay people and those who already have a trade when they join the order. The chapter lays down: "Everyone should remain at the trade and in the position in which he was called." This one sentence alone gives rise to a serious question about what attitude the order ought to adopt to a person seeking admission to it who is already qualified in a trade or profession. It is not a question about whether the order .should,allow a plumber or a doctor to continue as a plumber or ¯ doctor after an initial period of formation; it is rather a question of Whether or not the order is obliged to allow a plumber or a doctor to return at least for a certain time, to his previous work, after the period of formation. Priests who have joined the order in the past have continued to exercise their priestly ministry to a.limited extent during the period of formation and it has always been assumed that. they will go back to its full exercise after formation. There are many, many more professions ands:trades which are as equally compatible with the vocation of being a Franciscan friar,as is the ministerial priesthood. Before the oral approval of the Rule in 1209, St. Francis had already assured the Bishop of Assisi that he and his companionS would earn their living and have recourse to begging only when it was absolutely necessary. Some of them worked as laborers in monasteries and private houses; others took care of lepers in the lazar houses; others helped farmers in the fields. In the early years after the,approval of the Rule the friars were given to preaching, praying and manual work. The statement made at the Madrid Chapter in 1973 concerning the vocation of the order today, gave definite approval to this aspect of the "-'~English Omnibus o] the Sources, 31-53. 32 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/1 original charism as contained in the Rule of 1221. The statement empha-sizes: For recent times, our participation in the general evolution of religious life and the influence of certain other communities,have led us to the rediscovery of an aspect of work as it was understood by ~Francis. New forms of work and a variety of occupations are now being undertaken by our friars. Min-istry, our own works, and domestic tasks within our friaries legitimately oc-cupy the majority of our friars, but it is becoming more frequent to find friars engaged in salaried trades and professions within enterprises and institutions which belong neither to the order nor to the Church. An orientation of this kind appears to us to be in line with our vocation; by it we are a part of society in a special way, working for its upbuilding and we are brought closer to those who live. by their work. While placing us squarely on the road to the future it brings us back to one of the institutions of our origins.zr This new type of work is itself the apostolate: the apostolate of presence by silent witness. We must not forget, however, that this form of the apostolate is not easy. It demands that a friar put into practice the unsystematic though profound theology of work scattered throughout the writings of St. Francis. Thus: pay is not to be the motive of work, nor should the friars become the slaves of work or of gain. Work is to be undertaken as a contribution to the final form of creati6n, carried out under the supreme lordship of God; it is to be sanctified by being brought back to its right relationship with God. It is not, nor can it be, for the friar an end in itself; it is a means of exercising the apostolate of peace and reconciliation in the midst of the world. It requires above all of those who engage in it, that they be contem-platives. Before actio.n there has to be what St. Bonaventure calls sursumac-rio-- that uplifting activity which is contemplative prayer. Further developments of this kind of work may well bring about a de-crease in the number of priests in the order. At the same time it must not be ignored that those engaged in the apostolate who are not~priests (for ex-ample, nuns°and brothers) often find that there are circumstances where it would be a definite advantage to be a priest. In fact, experiences of this kind have often led~non-ordained apostles to seek ordination to the priest-hood. 4. St. Francis the Deacon:'-'~ St. Francis never became a priest. One often hears that the reason for this was his deep humility; he felt himself unworthy of so sublime a dignity. This explanation, however, is not to be found in the sources; in fact there appears to be no mention of the matter at all. In any case our concern here is not with the reason why he did not become a priest, but with the [a.ct that he was a deacon. "-':General Chapter Documents, Madrid 1973 (The English-Speaking Conference of the Order of Friars Minor; 1974), 68. '-'sSee I, Col. 86 in English Omnibus Edition o[ the Sources, 301: "The saint of God was clothed with the vestments of the deacon, for he was a deacon, and he sang the holy Gospel in a sonorous voice." Re[tections on the Franciscan Charism / 33 The re-institution of the order of permanent diaconate is one of the most encouraging results of Church renewal. The diaconate in the Church is directly derived from, and immediately related to, the episcopal office. It concerns the Church's mission to the world in.the very concrete form of the corporal and sp)ritual works of mercy and of work for reconciliation, justice and peace. These works pertain to the essence of the apostolic office. It is, therefore, theologically incorrect and quite unsound to understand the diaconate merely in terms of assistance to the priestly ministry; nor is the diaconate adequately presented exclusively in terms of liturgical functions. In practice at the moment, however, the actual form of ministry exercised by permanent deacons is, in the vast majority of cases, only a lesser form of the priestly ministry. This is true throughout the Western Church. On the missions it has been ~made a substitute for the priesthood, and the permanent deacon is in fact a "mini-priest?' With the exception of saying Mass and ad: ministering absolution, he does everything that the priest does. The diaconate has become also a substitute for a married priesthood. In ,many of our city and towm parishes in the Western world, the ministry of the permanent deacon is in fact no more than that of assistant to the local priests. In all these cas~s, therefore, 'the priesthood is the determining factor in the per-formance of the office of deacon. It would be a pity if this were to become the exclusive form of the diaconal ministry. The permanent diaconate in the Church proclaims that the corporal and spiritual works of mercy and work for reconciliation, justice and peace are not merely the special concern of individuals who may feel called to per-form them. They belong to the episcopal office, because the bishops must have anxious care not only for all' the churches but also for the whole world. Ordinatioh to :the .permanent diaconate graces the man called to this work with the authority and power of the apostolic mission to the world, In virtue of this sacrament the deacon is sent by the bishop publicly in the name of Christ to work; for example, in the field 0f communications, as a counselor, a welfare officer, a doctor or a nurse. The. Franciscan Order is committed by its very existence to work for reconciliation,., justice and peace. It would be most fitting for the order to incorporate the permanent diaconate, as here understood, into its life and mission and to offer this as an option to those wishing to join the order. It would manifest that work other than priestly'ministry is not merely the hobby or pa~rticular preference of an individual, but a part of the Churcl~'s ¯ mission to the world. It would contribute also towards restoring the diaconate to its fuller ministry. 5. Christology of the Franciscan School: Every friar should receive a thorough grounding in the doctrine of the Franciscan School. Christology is at the heart of that doctrine from which has developed a distinctive anthro-pology, .!he values of which center on freedom, the primacy of the will and charity, and the dignity of the individual person. In order that this rich 34 / Review Jot Religious, Volume 36, 1977/1 heritage be not lost; it is of paramount importance that studies be encouraged ever more keenly in the order. One acknowledges with gratitude .the re-newed interest in Franciscan studies brought about by,~the establishment of the Franciscan Institute at St. Bonaventure University, New York. More friars should .be encouraged to devote their lives to the production of good texts and critical editions of the authors of the Franciscan School. It must be impressed on them that this is not a waste of time nor merely the pri-vate interest of the scholarly "types" which the order can tolerate, but a splendid contribution to the understanding of a tradition which belongs, to the Church and mankind at large;. ~ The~Future of the Order and Its Vocation The future will see a more balanced proportion between, the number of priests and non-priests in the Franciscan Order. The indications are that throughout the world the order as a whole will continue to decrease in numbers. There will be many more small communities. In fidelity to its many-faceted charism the order will have to learn to hold within itself a great pluriformity of~ life-styles and, work. The former will have to contain the widest variety from the contemplative to the actix;e' life.~ The latter will have to.embrace every, form from strictly priestly.work to the apostolate of presence and silent witness in salaried trades, and pro-fessions. Every friar on the apostolate will have to be prepared to preach, teach or' share with others, in whatever ways are opened up, the riches of the order's Christological tradition, particularly the teaching on the centrality of the Word and the absolute 'primacy of Christ: By so doing, the order will contribute to the fruitfulness oLthe encounter and dialogue between East and West, from which will result a spirituality for the post-modern world. The East has developed towards an extreme spiritualistic interpretation of man and the world; the West towards an extreme materialistic interpretation of man and the world. There are~ however, strands in the tradition of both East and West, which point the way to a real unity and balance between these extremes. It is not too much to suggest~that the theology of the:Fran-ciscan School and the spirituality of St. Francis belong to these strands in the West. This theology and spirituality lead one to a material spiritualism or spiritual materialism, to a holy worldliness or worldly holiness. It is along these lines that spirituality in the future will develop. In conclusion we wish to make a brief comment about a very important matter. It concerns a fair number of those friars who have left the order and have taken up other walks of life. In traveling around one frequently comes across ex-friars who long to share again the spirituality and atmosphere which formed them and left a deep impression on their minds and hearts, and who desire to participate once more in some way directly in the order's mission to the world. It is not that they are unhappy in their new. way of life or regret having married~ These longings and desires are th~ outcome of a~ Reflections on the, Franciscan Charism / 35~ renewed and deeper appreciation of Franciscan values which their new life has brought home. to them. Specifically, 'it is married rife which is most fre-quently mentioned as the cause of this. There is a very positive impulse behind these desires which one discerns as the Ho!y Spirit of God. Serious thought and prayer must be given to working out how these desires might be fulfilled, It must not be presumed a priori that we can do nothing for them. One suggestion would be the institution of a new [ormof the Third Order which could be so established as to meet both desires mentioned. It could exist in very close liaison and cooperation with the work of the First Order, for this latter is mature enough to embrace an added element in its. pluri- ¯ formity. In this way the order would be helping to prepare for the eventual re-deployment of so much energy, goodwill and holiness in the apostolic mission of the Church. Now Available As A Reprint Centeri. g Prayer-Prayer of Quiet by~ M. Basil Pennington, O.C.S~.O. Address: ¯ Price: $.50 pier copy, plus postage. Review for Religious 612 Humboldt Building 539 North Grand St. Louis,, Missouri 63103 To God Via Per Patricia Lowery, M.M. Sister Lowery's article, "The Suffering Servant and the Wounded Healer" (May, 1976) was well-received by our readership. She continues to reside at: Madres de Maryknoll; Casilla 491; Arequipa, Pert]. Editor's Note: I asked Sister Patricia to write an article on her reason for remaining in Pert] even as a suffering servant. In response to read.er-reaction, she had earlier written an article with fuller information about "The Fraternity of the Sick," but I judged the present article to be of haore immediate im-portance. The other article will be published later. The following passages from her covering letter will "flesh out" the article which follows. She writes: "I guess it is not such a great thing that I stay in Pert], but some people without a missionary vocation might think it is. 1 am not exactly 'all crippled up,' but Rheumatoid Arthritis affects all the joints, and, whatever the degree of deformity, there°is always pain . Some people, I think, Would be taking it easy in my condition, but because my spirit is always 100 miles ahead of my body, I need to romp around. I do it in Pert] because the pace is slower, I have the freedom to invent' my own aids to independence, and most of all because it is 'home' for me .I hope what I have written will serve as an inspiration to someone else." When I left New York harbor destined for Pert] on the f~ast of St. Rose of Lima, I instinctively felt that I was making.a journey that would shape my life. Twenty-five years later, as I reflect on the events of those years, I know it to be true. As I stood at the rail, face to face with the ocean, the fact that I was going to a strange country, to a-mission that was as yet an empty lot, to work with people I did not know and whose language I could not speak, seemed not to frighten me. I was too caught up with the journey itself. With Sister Madaleva's "Travel Song" in my heart, I was blinded by' enthusiasm! 36 To God Via Per~ / 37 "Know you the journey that I take Know you the voyage that I make The joy of it one's heart would break. No jot of time have l to spare Nor will to loiter anywhere SO edger am I to be there. What thatothe way is hard and long What that gray fears upon it throng I set my journey to a song. And it grows happy, wondrous so Singing I hurry on, for Oh! It is to God, to God I go. I am still singing that song, for my journey has taken me steadily toward God, accompanied now by many frierids and the voice of ,the quena (Indian flute), whose music calls to mind all that I have liv.ed, loved and learned in Peril. A Life of Fulfillment Recently, a visiting sister from the United States asked me what satis-factions I had after working twenty-five years in Perti. I could not answer that question directly because .I had not thought of my years in Perti in terms of "satisfactions," but. rather, more comprehensively, as a lifetime of fulfillment. I feel that I came to Peril almost as a child, unsure of many things, and here I grew up, formed 'in the school of joy; struggle, suffering, achievement and love. My teachers'were often uneducated people whose only book was the testimony of their lives. I knew, sowehow, that in such a book were contained the lessons I wanted desperately to learn. There was conflict, though, because I was supposed to be the teacher, prepared as I was for that profession. Later in novitiate work, I assumed the role of spiritual guide only to find that the insights of the Peruvian girls with whom I lived were much more "real" than my own. In pastoral work, too, I had to learn to accelSt people as they are, in the context of their cul-ture and reality, and to set aside my well-prepared o~ganizational plan. It was only when I found myself on a level with so many others (brought together through that universal mystery of suffering) that I began my real ministry~ This shared experience taught me to be present to others as a friend, learn from them, be at their side rather than "ahead" of them, to understand and appreciate them--and m~self as well. I sincerely feel that over the years the gift of happiness and fulfillment has been given to me by people who are themselves still oppressed by in- . justices and hunger for bread and who carry man-made burdens. In humble gratitude to them, I take my stand with all those who fight for liberation, human dignity and the precious gift of personal fulfillment. A Vocation to Stay As a Maryknoll Missioner, my heritage includes devotion to the Church, Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/1 love for people of all cultures, simplicity, loyalty, generosity, adaptability, joy in hardships and faith in God. My earliest years at Maryknoll were filled with hearing about, and meeting, great men and women who, sustained by those virtues, ventured to "fields afar" even before I was born. Their unassuming lives spoke to me of humifity, courage a,ad joy, virtues that stood by them. as they fought the good fight, faced imPrisonment and even death for the people to Whom they were g(nt. All this was part of their missionary vocation. ~ Therefore, it seems strange to me that anyone would ask why I, who am only semi-incapacitated by a physical'iliness, would remain on a mission where few resources are availi~ble. Actually, it never occurred to me to do otherwise. Having received very good medical attention and knowing how to take care of myself, there seems little else to do but wait until science discovers a'cure. B~t one can waist anywhere. Bishop James E. Walsh, M.M., whose story is well known in the United States, made a statement in 1951 regarding his decision to remain in China in the face of imprisonment (which he actually suffered for twelve years). From among his valuable insights, ! will quote a few which I can apply to myself: Vocation: Our vocation is not simply our occupational work. The teaching, preaching, village visiting we usually do, it is something much deeper, per-mahent, indelible. It does not change if our work is imped(d, if we are in. prison, or for any other reason. One of the necessary conditions to carry it out properly, I think, is to accept in advance every trouble and contingency in connection with it that Divine Providence puts in our way. If we start to pick and choose for ourselves; it is very hard to tell if we are carrying out our vocation or running away from it . The only safe rule for a man with a mission vocation, .I think, is to adhere to the clear indication of God's will (his appointed place where he finds himself) and to make no changes of his own volition. .4ch°vity: Enforced inactivity is a term that needs some distinguishingl Activ-ity does not depend on the place; it depends on the man. Suffering patiently bourne is activity, so is prayer, so is any kind of mental work--things that can be done, one WOUld think, in prison as well as anywhere. What is really meant is a change of activity. This is something of a hardship to many men, I confess it---especially to those who are lacking in the. faculty of imagination. However, we can all learn something new, or at least wecan try tO do so. If an examp!e of prison life will help the Church in China, as. I. believe any suffering undergone for Qod will do, then we are just being given another sort of activity for a time. There is no question of ~complete inactivity, I believe."r Encouraged, therefore, by the tradition of my elders as well as by the example of many valiant companions of today, I choose to stay in Pert~ because: 1Zeal For Your House by James E. Walsh, M.M., Our Sunday Visitor, Inc. (Hunt= ington, IN; 1976), pp. 140-141. To God Via Per~ / 39 --it is my vocation; ---I believe in Christian witness (no matter what else I may or may not be able to do) ; --although it is the nature of the missionary vocation to move on when when the. local Church has come of age, I feel that Peril is still in the growing process and needs to feel solidarity with the universal Church; --it builds morale both for the people and the missioners; (to celebrate a "staying-here" rather than a "going-away" makes everybody happy); --God has directed my life in such surprisingly beautiful wa3;s that I fear if I "pick and choose for myself," I may miss out on something he has in store for me; --finally, I would feel reluctant to break the bonds of friendship built up over the years. Yahweh's feeling toward his people has rubbed off on me: How could I give you up, O Ephraim? How could I part with you, O Israel? (Ho 11:8) While my sentiment for Peril runs deep, I k~aow that missioners are sent to people rather than to count.ries. In the case that ,I were to find my-self in another situation, my ministry to people need not change: Pockets of Hope In my small circle of the poor and the sick, I se.e signs .of Christi.an witness which prove that what we have been able to build in the hearts of people has already outlasted our institutions and monumental structures. Christian values like kindness, service, patience, humility, thoughtfulness and friendliness mark people as being followers of Christ. In my own ex-perience, especially since I have been sick, I have been deeply moved by the unexpected and touching concern shown for me.by those who carry heavy burdens and, apparently, have nothing to give. It prompts me to look into my life, and give of its essence as well as its superfluity. Because of my involvement with the "Fraternity of the Sick," I have come to realize the truth, that through baptism (be it of water or in the fire of suffering), the humblest among the people of. God are called to be ministers. In the past, because of concentrating only on our own call to ministry, we religious have tended to over-look the vocation to service being lived out all around us. Only with our encouragement can these ministers come to take their place as true servants of the Church. We have nothing to lose and everything to gain if only we can set aside our fears and believe that: As one lamp lights another, nor grows less So nobleness enkindles nobleness. (Lowell) Founding "Founderology": Charism and Hermeneutics Francis E. George, O,M.I. Father George is Vicar General of the Oblates of Mary Immaculate. This article is based on a conference given in Rome at the beginning of a three-week congress, April 25-May 15, on the charism of their founder, Eugene De Mazenod, ,He resides at the Curia Generalitia O.M.I.; Via Aurelia, 290; 00165 Roma, Italy. The renewal of religious, institutes means getting in touch with several "charisms." We can distinguish the charism of the religious life as such, individual charisms and the cha.rism of a founder and of his institute. Religious life as such is a gift of the Holy Spirit, a" grace given to the entire Church, enabling it to follow Christ ever more closely (Lumen Gentium,~ 44). There is also.the "charism" or individual grace of each member of a religious institute. The Spirit calls each of us by name, and this individual vocation is a source of the richness that religious institutes have recently begun to acknowledge more openly and appreciate more warmly. But the Fathers of the Second Vatican Council spoke of the "original inspiration behind a given community" as one of the principles of ongoing renewal of religious institutes (Perlectae Caritatis, 2), and the "spirit" of a founder has' its source in a grace (charis) given to him. Like all.grace, it is a personal gift; but by reason of his founding a public institute in the Church, this grace has far-reaching public consequences. Those who are his followers adopt a stance, a viewpoint, in some way derived from or inspired by his thought, his work, his graced life. It becomes possible there-fore to speak of a "collectNe charism," a view proper to a group. The charism of a religious institute, as such has been defined as "a grace given Founding ~'Founderology'" / 41 by the Holy Spirit to a religious institute to help it to carry out its proper mission.''~ Each religious foundation began with a group who shared a common spirit. This spirit, rooted in grace, enabled them to lead a common life and attempt a common task: How can a religious institute today know if it still has this original spirit? Is there a method which can help a religious community get in touch with the founder's spirit and live it authentically? Historical Approach to Charism There are two methodological approaches to charism (the spirit of the founder and his followers) which, taken singly, . might ,lead to an impasse. The first approach is historical. Starting with the historical reality of a founder, his life and work, we can try to see him as a kind of model, some-what separate from us in time, but still providing us with a clear and even a detailed picture of the life we should lead today. "Fidelity to the founder's spirit" then means handing on this model, essentially unchanged, to future generations of religious. They, in tur6, will interiorize it and make it vital thr~ough their lives and works. The difficulty with this ap~proach is that it "often assumes a "funda-mentalism" based on texts or on events, accepting as normative many models which are irrelevant to contemporary life. While seeming to empha-size the historical reality of the founder, this approach, taken by itself, is really a means of escaping from history. It makes the founder's ideas become ah ideology, protecting a community's present institution,'ilizati6n but divorced from the contemporary responses to problems the founder him-self was concerned about? On the practical level, "copying" the founder cannot serve as a guide for present decision making. Few people, and certainly not most religious founders, are so .self-consistent in act that it is not possible to find his-torical precedent in their lives for al}nost any a~tion. Almost any par-ticular decision can thereby be justified by saying we are "imitating the founder." The ideological nature of this approach, used alone, becomes clear. Experiential Approach to Charism The second approach "begins with contemporary experience. Looking at an institute's life and ministry today, the members discern what are the values and the motivation inspiring them. A synthesis of this group "spirit" is articulated and accepted as normative. Certain similarities with the XTeresa Led6chowska, O.S.U., A la'r~cherche du charism de I'institut (Rome, 1976), p. 14. "Ideology, as used here, means ideas which serve as weapons or cloaks for special interests. This usage is common., in .the sociology o~ knowledge and derives from Karl Marx via Karl Mannheim. 42 / ,Review ]or Religious, VOlume 36, 1977/1 spirit of the founder are either° found or are-read back into his life, but the important thing is to avoid withdrawing into the cocoon of the ~insti-tute and away from contemporary events and problems. If historical similarity.to the founder is lacking, this must be accepted" as a part'of his-torical development itself, the price ,paid for being truly in and of our own time. ~ The difficulty with this approach, considered in itself, lies in its easy acceptance of the zeitgeist as almost uniquely normative. The founder himself tends to become instr~umentalized, brought'in .whenever he can be used to justify current thinking and activity; and conveniently forgotten at other moments. Eventually, it would be hard to find any specific content at all to the so-ca.lled charism of the institute. If the first approach merely "copies" the founder~ the second tends to replace him. Hermeneutic Approach to Charism Is ~here a third approach,~incorporating the best Of the two sketched above? Perhaps a iook at hermeneuticg ~igl!t help to put'together a meth-odology which neither copies a founder nor replaces him but rather inter-prets him for Our time and for generations of religious yet to come. Hermeneutics Heymeneutic~, the science of interpretation, has its theolggic)d roots in the discussion of the historical Jesus and his relation to the Christ of faith? ]~he~gradual dissociation of religious, beliefs from historical'dvents had its beginnings in the late"l 8th century work of Lessing and has its best known twentieth century explication in the work of Rudolf Bulimafin. Hermeneutics as such, h~owever, is .a" theologically neutral ente'rRr~ise, concerned with the understanding of expressions of life as fixed in writing2 As a method, hermeneutics demands first of all exegesis, the careful establishment Of what the author ~f a text consciously meant to say in his writing. Next, h~rmeneutics tries intelligibly to span the historical distance between the text and our present reading of it by studying the author's con-text of understanding, including both his presuppositions (what he took for granted) and his horizon (what he was up to and how he did it). Finally, a third area of understanding must be made explicit. If the text is to be adequately interpreted, there is needed also a critique of the reader's context, the presuppositions .he brings to his reading, what is mean- .~See P. Grech's rrsum6 o[ the question in, "Jesus Christ in History and Kerygma," A New Catholic Commentar.v on Holy Scripture, Reginald G. Fuller, General Editor (London: Thomas Nelson & Sons, 1969), pp. 822-837. 4See Berriard Lonergan, Method in Theology (N.Y.: Herder & Herder, 1972), pp. 59-64 and 153-173. Founding "Founderology" / 43 ingful in his understanding and life~ The interpreter's own subiectivity is utilized as a principle of interpretation. The challenge of hermeneutics lies at least partially in finding a context of understanding which incorporates both the explicit intentions of the author of the text and his cont6xt of understanding, along with the context of the reader or interpreter. ~ ,, Charism Interpretation In charism interpretation, the object of interpretation is not directly a single text or group of te£ts but rather a group-spirit which has its. origin in a particular historical person. Nevertheless, three areas of understanding, anaiogou~ to those necessary for textual interpretation, can be seen to be necessary: for an appreciation of a founder's spirit. First, we must understand what he personally intended and chose. A study,~ of his own writings and the decisions of his life is therefore necessary. Secondly, we must understand the founder's historical context, his horizon .of meaning and ,action .as a~man of his age. Accepting a spurious. contemporaneity, overlooking, for example, authoritatian presuppositions ~which.~.are now unattractive, would only falsify our interpretation. Thirdly, we must understand our own presuppositions and 'our own historical context. The general horizon of modern consciousness accepts unquestioningly that finitude is the vantage point of all, thinking and that ,,there are no privileged viewpoints. Nobody today, for example, believes he can know the mind of God or his will in the same rather absolute way peo-ple thought it possible to know them before the mediating structures :broke down. This contempor.ary tentativeness :can readily degenerate into a super-cilious attitude, debunking, every human thought "and value; at its best, however, it reminds us that we, too, are not necessarily smarter than peo-ple were in the founder's time. We just have a different pbint of view; and we must therefore work all the harder to understand the founder's context of meaning and action. Interpretation as. a. Communitarian. Activity But these three areas of understanding do not of themselves give us an interpretation of a founder's spirit. They prepare the task of' interpretation, but the actual interpretation must be~done in community~ Interpretation takes place in community nc;t only because community is a constitutive part of the life of most religioias institutes, but also because :interpretation is, of its very nature; a communitarian activity. ~ Community of Interpretation Interpersonal" Structure Interpretation is a communita~-ian activity because it is a joining, a communion, of three poles: the interpreter, the sign or object interpreted, 44 / Review [or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/1 and the person(s) for whom the interpretation is intended, or the inter-pretee( s)? By way of example, one can imagine an international conference during which speeches are translated simultaneously. The speaker's words are the sign or object interpreted, the translator is the interpreter, and those who do not understand the speaker's language are the interpretees. Together they form a community of interpretation, Without one of the three, but espe-cially without the interpreter, no community exists and the conference be-comes impossible. To push the example a bit further, one can imagine a particularly abstruse speech which makes little sense even to those who understand the language in which it is given. Then another sort of inter-preter is called for, perhaps a teacher or clarifier, who creates community between speaker and those spoken to. What might happen Should even the speaker not understand his speech? Then probably the situation calls for that sort of interpreter called a psychiatrist,'who can explain the speaker to himself. In any circumstance, the act of interpretation means that someone interprets something to and for another. The "other'-' might be the inter-preter himself at a different time. Everyone has had the experience of puz-zling through a conundrum and finally "interpreting" it to himself --- but even in this case there are three logically distinct subjects of the relationship: interpreter, interpreted and interpretee. Interpretation, then, is always a communitarian activity. Temporal Structure Chronologically, the interpreter can be placed in the present, the' inter-preted in the past and the interpretee in the future. The community of in-terpretation is a temporal community, in the sense that something in the past is interpreted by someone now for someone else in the future. The ac-tivity of interpreting, then, creates a community of memory and of hope. It brings together, in the present, both the past and the future. Again, an example might help. It is fashionable today to speak of "owning" one's own behavioi'. A person self-consciously appropriates in the present some act of his past so that it fits into his future. A self-image is an interpretation. When others share the individual's self-interpretation, community with them is possible. When all place the same interpretation on a past event and look forward to a common future, a larger community is possible, There is a Christian community, to use another example, because in the present we all interpret the past Christ-event in such a way that we look forward to his future coming in glory. Those who do not look back to Jesus '~This analysis of interpretation depends upon the work of tl~e American philosopher Josiah Royce, The Problem o] Christianity (N.Y.: Mac"millan, 1913), vol. ii, Lectures ix through xiv. ~ Founding "Founderology'" / 45 of Nazareth as Lord and Savior or do not look forward to the Parousia are not members of the Christian community, There is no common interpre-tation. Every community is a gathering of many separate persons into a commonly held memory and a commonly shared hope. In this sense, every community is a community of interpretation. In the community of interpretation which is a particular religious insti-tute, the members interpret in their time the.spirit and acts of their founder, a person now dead, to their future selves and to future generations of re-ligious, They say what they understand the founder to be, thereby establish-ing their community with him and enabling him--and them--to join those who will consider their interpretation in the future. This future considera-tion, of course, will be another interpretation in another present for another future in which they are past. Religious Community of Interpretation The Founder:s Concerns The relation of interpretation has a triadic personal structure (interpre-ter, interpreted and interpretee) and a triadic temporal structure (present, past and future). But the abstract framework explored so far is true of every act of interpretation and of every community of interpretation. Is there a specific 'contribution a founder makes to the community of interpretation which is his religious, institute? Obviously; if we are able to speak of a charism proper to an institute, then the object interpreted, the signs of God's grace which are the founder's words and acts, must provide the content which his followers interpret in the present. The founder raises concerns in the hearts and minds of his followers and these concerns specify religious com-munities .of interpretation., so that followers of Francis of Assisi are different from followers of Francis de Sales, Each religious, each community, each institute can produce a list of those concerns which were closest to its founder's heart. The founder I know best, Eugene De Mazenod,* was a diocesan priest who brought together a small mission, band to help re-evangelize southern France after the destruc-tion of parochial life in the French Revolution, Heavily influenced by the writings of St. Alphonsus Ligouri and by the example of St. Vincent de Paul, De Mazenod chose as a motto for.his missionaries the words of Isaiah echoed in Luke's Gospel: "He has sent me to preach the .Gospel to the poor; the poor have the Gospel preached to them." A practical leader rather than a speculative theorist, he saw his group develop slowly in response to many different needs in many different situa-tions. In some respects he seems to be a not very original man, yet certain *Eugene De Mazenod (1782-1861), ~ounder ~f the Missionary Oblates of Mary Immaculate and Bishop of Marseilles. ' He was beatified on Mission Sunday, October 19, 1975. 46 / Review [or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/1 personal concerns return constantly in his letters and his.life, An authentic Mazenodian community of interpretation, therefore,, would have to harbor at least the following four concerns:, 1 ) ~a concern ]or the poor: who are they; what language do they speak; what are their needs and their ways of understanding themselves? This was a constant ,concern of ,De Mazenod from the days of his first preaching in" the Provenqal dialect to his final instructions to his missionaries in Africa, Asia and North America ~ 2,) a co'ncern ]or the Church as universal: De Mazenod's own conver-sion to Christ crucified and his .love ~of Christ as universal Savior prompted both, his missionary zeal and his love of the pope as universal pastor; a vision of Christ's universal salvific action as sacramentalized in the Church must be somehow present to De Mazenod's interpreters. 3) a concern ]or ministry, and specifically for preaching Christ 'cruci-fied, in local circumstances: religious foundations were frequent in nine-teenth century France, but when another founder spoke~t6.De Mazenod of the need to go to all of France, De Mazenod insisted'on,first making Christ present in Provence, in the circtimstances he knew best. ,.A universal. Vision was coupled with a concern for local effectiveness, even as.the congregation itself became global. 4) a. concern ]or the quality of copnmitment bf the community itself: De Mazenod called his followers not to,share his opinions nor even only to share his work but to share his commitment, a commitment finally expressed in religious vows. Other areas of concern could certainly be raised. Concern for the way in which Mary is part of the Oblate spirit as exemplar:and guide is forced on De: Mazenod's institute by its very title. Concern for the proper under-standing of mission or of evangelization is also important~ But De Mazenod in pr~actice preached to and served and lived with certain grotips of people. Without living contact with analogous groups today, his spirit will escape his followers. ~ For the purpose of this paper, De Mazenod is only an exam