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Judith P. Mitchell, ca. 1984; Judith P. Mitchell, May 17, 2013 ; The Weber State University Oral History Project began conducting interviews with key Weber State University faculty, administrators, staff and students, in Fall 2007. The program focuses primarily on obtaining a historical record of the school along with important developments since the school gained university status in 1990. The interviews explore the process of achieving university status, as well as major issues including accreditation, diversity, faculty governance, changes in leadership, curricular developments, etc. ; This is an oral history interview with Judith P. Mitchell conducted on May 17, 2013 by Ruby Licona. Judith discusses her career at Weber State from 1983 to 2011 in the Teacher Education program. ; 35p.; 29cm.; 2 bound transcripts; 4 file folders. 1 video disc: digital; 4 3/4 in. ; Oral History Program Judith P. Mitchell Interviewed by Ruby Licona 17 May 2013 i Oral History Program Weber State University Stewart Library Ogden, Utah Judith P. Mitchell Interviewed by Ruby Licona 17 May 2013 Copyright © 2014 by Weber State University, Stewart Library ii Mission Statement The Oral History Program of the Stewart Library was created to preserve the institutional history of Weber State University and the Davis, Ogden and Weber County communities. By conducting carefully researched, recorded, and transcribed interviews, the Oral History Program creates archival oral histories intended for the widest possible use. Interviews are conducted with the goal of eliciting from each participant a full and accurate account of events. The interviews are transcribed, edited for accuracy and clarity, and reviewed by the interviewees, who are encouraged to augment or correct their spoken words. The reviewed and corrected transcripts are indexed, printed, and bound with photographs and illustrative materials as available. Archival copies are placed in University Archives, which also houses the original recording so researchers can gain a sense of the interviewee's voice and intonations. Project Description The Weber State University Oral History Project began conducting interviews with key Weber State University faculty, administrators, staff and students, in Fall 2007. The program focuses primarily on obtaining a historical record of the school along with important developments since the school gained university status in 1990. The interviews explore the process of achieving university status, as well as major issues including accreditation, diversity, faculty governance, changes in leadership, curricular developments, etc. ____________________________________ Oral history is a method of collecting historical information through recorded interviews between a narrator with firsthand knowledge of historically significant events and a well-informed interviewer, with the goal of preserving substantive additions to the historical record. Because it is primary material, oral history is not intended to present the final, verified, or complete narrative of events. It is a spoken account. It reflects personal opinion offered by the interviewee in response to questioning, and as such it is partisan, deeply involved, and irreplaceable. ____________________________________ Rights Management All literary rights in the manuscript, including the right to publish, are reserved to the Stewart Library of Weber State University. No part of the manuscript may be published without the written permission of the University Librarian. Requests for permission to publish should be addressed to the Administration Office, Stewart Library, Weber State University, Ogden, Utah, 84408. The request should include identification of the specific item and identification of the user. It is recommended that this oral history be cited as follows: Mitchell, Judith P., an oral history by Ruby Licona, 17 May 2013, WSU Stewart Library Oral History Program, University Archives, Stewart Library, Weber State University, Ogden, UT. iii Judith P. Mitchell ca. 1984 Judith P. Mitchell May 17, 2013 Abstract: This is an oral history interview with Judith P. Mitchell conducted on May 17, 2013 by Ruby Licona. Judith discusses her career at Weber State from 1983 to 2011 in the Teacher Education program. RL: I'm Ruby Licona and I am on the faculty here in the Stewart Library. Today is May 17, 2013 and we are speaking with Judith P. Mitchell, who retired from the Teacher Education program in 2011. She originally came to Weber State in 1983. We are looking forward to speaking with her and getting a good perspective on her years here at Weber. Our meeting this morning is in the Waterstradt Seminar in the Special Collections Library. Good morning, Judy, how are you? JM: Good morning. I am fine, thank you. RL: I am so glad you agreed to do this. We are trying to capture as many perspectives on Weber State and its history as possible and your name came up as someone that we should spend some time talking to. Why don't we begin with you telling us a little bit about your background, where you grew up and what might have drawn you to teaching? JM: I grew up at least part of the time in Ogden. My parents were from Ogden. When I was a child, my father went to medical school. We lived in Portland, Oregon for about seven years and in Philadelphia for a year while he completed his education. He was an ophthalmologist here in Ogden. We came back to Ogden when I was nine years old. I started the fifth grade at Polk School, went through the Ogden School District system and graduated from Ogden High School. Page 1 of 35 Afterward, I went to Stanford University and spent four years there. My major was music. It was a wonderful background and I've never regretted it for a minute because it probably did more to enhance my life and my children's lives than any other education I could have had at the time. I had lots of literature, music, art history and history classes. It was a nice foundation for whatever I decided to do next. After college, I came back to Ogden and went to work for Amalgamated Sugar. Those were the days when old Mr. Benning was still in charge of Amalgamated Sugar. He was an interesting man who still had the secretarial girls ironing the carbon paper so that it could be reused. He also had these little things that went on the end of the pencil so that they could use the pencil down to the last stub. I think he bought Amalgamated Sugar at a penny a share, so he came through all of those really hard years and he knew how to squeeze a nickel. After that, I was recruited by Bill Eccles to work for First Security Corporation as his executive secretary. First Security then moved to Salt Lake, so I moved to Salt Lake as well. At that time, I became reacquainted with the man I later married. He was a year or two older than I and I had known his sister. I have three children. Of course, they are all adults now and I have five grandchildren. When I was having my first baby, I quit working and I stayed home. When my two oldest children got into school, I was so interested in the process of how children learn to read that I thought, "Here I am with a Stanford Baccalaureate Degree and I could just whip down to Polk School and teach reading." I discovered that I had to have a state Page 2 of 35 license, so I came to Weber State. They accepted all my liberal education credits and I had to take the teacher education courses. I think I had to take ten hours of science which I had carefully avoided in college previously. They awarded me a Baccalaureate Degree in Science and then I went on to teach in the public schools in Weber School District. I taught at Marlon Hills Elementary and Valley View Elementary and ended up out in Hooper. I loved Weber School District. They gave me opportunities to learn and do different things. I'm not sure that the educational standards of the parents were necessarily the most important thing, but they were good parents and they were very supportive of the school and of teachers. The children were lovely children and were wonderful to teach. I had never spent any time in a farm community before and at that time Hooper was a farm community. Many raised sugar beets as a cash crop. In the fall, there would be mountains of sugar beets waiting to be picked up. I earned a Master's Degree from Utah State University in education and my thesis was on reading. Then, I decided to do a doctorate and did that at the University of Utah. I knew I liked the public schools. I liked teaching and I liked the kids, but I am restless by nature and I thought what I really wanted to do was teach in higher education because I thought I could make a difference. RL: Was it a Ph.D. or an Ed.D. that you earned at the University of Utah? JM: It was a Ph.D. I like going to school. I think most of us that are in the education field like going to school. We like to teach, but we also like to be taught. So, when Page 3 of 35 the opportunity came up for me to come to Weber on a trade for a year, I was delighted. My district had recommended that since I had the doctorate. RL: So you came here on a trade? How did that work? JM: Karen Neilson was a professor in the Teacher Education program and her field was secondary education and literacy. Of course, I was an elementary person, but that made little mind. It was my first experience with taking somebody else's course and somebody else's notes and trying to figure out what it was that I was supposed to teach. She would have things in her notes like, "Come tomorrow and it will be a big surprise about this or that." I would think, "What is the big surprise that I'm going to come up with?" She extended her contract with the DODS schools, so I had an opportunity to come to Weber. This was at the time of the WILKITS. The WILKITS were packets of materials and students moved through them at their own pace. Many of us from traditional education settings had difficulty with this notion because there were no set classes and we met with students individually. For some students it worked wonderfully and for others it didn't work well at all. RL: Was that something that was just here at Weber, or was that a trend? JM: It was a new trend across the country in some ways and people came from all over to see the programs at Weber. RL: Was it solely in education? JM: Yes, it was only in education. A group of professors in Teacher Education had come to Weber at about the same time and they decided they could develop this program. They received a big federal grant so that they could be freed up for an Page 4 of 35 entire year to develop all the program materials. The thing they didn't really have time to do was to develop the assessment materials that went with it. I went through this program when I came to Weber to get a license to teach. For me, it was good. I'm quite self-motivated and I balance my time well, but for many students it was a nightmare. There were no deadlines so you just moved through it at your own pace. RL: That has a similarity to some of our online courses now, doesn't it? JM: Absolutely. RL: You have students that are very motivated and jump right in. I've had students try to turn in all of the assignments in the first week of an eight week block. I tell them, "No, we need to go through some things first." JM: Yes, it is the same idea. As I said, there were no set classes, so you'd just make an appointment with your professor when you were ready to be checked out of that particular module. I think they transported those modules all over the world. There was a big program in the Middle East and Blaine Parkinson and Harley Adamson made many trips. The college received a big national award for the program. It was cutting edge at the time. RL: We did have people from Weber who were involved with opening up a university in the Middle East. JM: That's right. I think Blaine was one of them and he was dean of the College of Education at one time. As some of us came to campus, we looked at teaching and learning differently and felt the need to have more set classes where we saw more than one student at a time. It was very time consuming for the faculty to Page 5 of 35 meet one-on-one with students. By the end of the fifth or sixth year after I came, I didn't see any more modules. RL: Were they just kind of eased out? JM: They were. People had different feelings about them. Like anything else, if you've had a hand in developing something you're a real advocate. RL: You have more ownership of it. JM: Absolutely. RL: Who were some of your colleagues when you came here? JM: Some of them have been here a long time. Luan Ferrin, Jimmie Merrill, Keith Burnett, and Burdett Johnson all came to Weber at about the same time. RL: You mention a lot of men. Were there not as many women in education at that time or just not in higher education? JM: When I went to work for Weber district, there wasn't a single woman administrator in Weber School District. That's a big school district. I think there were a few more women in Ogden School District. As a child, I had a woman principal and it wasn't uncommon at all. Later, it seemed like you didn't see many women in administration. We saw a lot of women teachers and still do, but not too many administrators. RL: There were some women in upper level positions during World War II as a result of the men being gone, but then I think it reversed. JM: Yes. I'm sure it did. It was pretty much a group of men. There were two or three women and they had been here a long time. They had been here at the time for this development. Page 6 of 35 RL: Did the men help to mentor you or was it more adversarial? JM: It wasn't adversarial. I'll have to say that Don Sharpes was the one who really sat me down and said, "Now, this is how you do your vitae and how you keep your records and your file. Oh by the way, the ladies room is down there." RL: That's essential orientation. JM: I didn't find that any one colleague did as much mentoring as they might have. Cordell Perkes hired me. He was a chair at the time. He was a very good colleague and was helpful. Dick Jones was the dean, at the time, in the College of Education. He was also very helpful as far as I was concerned. When Dick was named Dean of the College of Education, there were two other faculty members that aspired to be dean, but they were not selected. I think Bob Smith was the Vice President of Academic Affairs, the position now call Provost. He made the choice and I think Dean Jones had a hard time because there were a lot of good 'ol boys who felt they were cheated and that they should have the position. They didn't like the way Dick ran the finances. I'm not sure it would have mattered what he did or how he did it, they wouldn't have liked it. For me, as a new faculty member, he was a good dean. He gave me a lot of opportunities to do different kinds of things and I appreciated that. Cordell Perkes had come in not too long before I and he was very supportive of changes and was looking for new ways to do things and understood that there's a freedom in being an academic. I think that one of the difficulties with the WILKIT system was the fact that there wasn't any academic Page 7 of 35 freedom in terms of how we did things in a classroom. That kind of flew in the face of what most of us believed. RL: You came in 1983. When I arrived in 1990, we had three Master's programs. That would have been just seven years after you got here. I understand that you were one of the ones that established the master's program in education. JM: Well, not really. When I came, the Master's in Education was a combined program with Utah State University. There were three people from USU and three from Weber that sat on a steering committee. Within a year or so, I did do that, which was wonderful and it taught me a lot about the program. Weber faculty members were doing most of the teaching and that gave us some grounds for saying that it should be Weber's program since we were doing the work with the students and teaching the classes. Don Sharpes was hired to head up that combination of faculty from the two universities and to run the program. I did have that nice opportunity to get in from the beginning on the whole thing. When the program was finally declared independent, I did direct the master's program for about 13 or 14 years. RL: Maybe that's where I got the impression that you had helped to establish it. You were in on the ground floor though. JM: Yes. At the beginning, I had that opportunity along with the chair and somebody else. I was Chair of Elementary Education during some of that time when we were still a part of Utah State's program. Page 8 of 35 RL: What other kinds of things were happening on the campus that you might have been involved with early on? There were some changes happening in the 1970's and 1980's with the establishment of the Faculty Senate. JM: That must have been earlier because when I came, there were stories about Joe Bishop wiring the Faculty Senate room where we held meetings. The reason it all came out was because somebody went to a little party after the Faculty Senate meeting and there was a lot of information that was out. When I came they were still reeling from President Bishop and the kinds of things that went on while he was president. I think he was a man who was very suspicious about what faculty might do. RL: From what I understand, he was trying to pull in the reins at a time when the Faculty Senate was starting to gain more academic freedom and more faculty involvement and control. JM: No question. When I got involved in Faculty Senate, it was one of the best things that happened to me academically. For one thing, I worked with awfully interesting people. Secondly, the Faculty Senate had gained a great deal of power working with Rod Brady. RL: I believe he left in about 1987 or 1988. JM: Then Stephen Nadauld came. We became a university at that point. RL: That's right. That happened toward the end of 1990. JM: There were a lot of changes at the university. We were suddenly looking at ourselves differently. I think there had been an attitude that it was just an extension of Harrison High. Part of that grew out of how faculty looked at Page 9 of 35 themselves and how they looked at the school, not so much the townspeople perhaps. RL: Recently, I've heard a couple of things on television that have grated on my nerves. There was a young man on one of the news programs that grew up in Ogden. He was presenting an award of some kind and asked the young woman where she was going to be going to college and she said, "Weber State." He said, "Oh, Harrison High School." If I had been there I think I would've throttled him. Not too long after that I heard someone on KUER, University of Utah's radio station, referring to us as Weber State College. I thought, "We've been Weber State University for 22 years now. Attitudes have to change sometime and people like you need to be taken to the wood shed." JM: In many ways faculty were their own worst enemies because they were the ones who perpetuated it. It was a shame. Suddenly, university status did a great deal for Weber in terms of attitudes. At the time, Weber State College was the biggest four year college in the United States granting baccalaureate degrees. RL: They had a large enrollment. JM: Exactly. RL: There were a lot of things that were attractive then that still are now. The trend to try and keep classes smaller and community involvement and different things that have been developed here on campus are still attractive. When we were going through the process to become a university there was a lot of squawking from University of Utah and Utah State University about something being written in that would prevent Weber State from becoming a doctoral granting university Page 10 of 35 and that there were not to be massive numbers of graduate degrees. We haven't grown greatly, but we do have nine graduate degrees now. Certainly, the accent has been on programs that add to the workforce and meet the need of not just the immediate community, but of the state with the emphasis on providing an educated workforce. I guess that's kind of an extension of starting out your program as a Utah State program. JM: I think that's true. The other thing that's interesting is that if you look at the graduation statistics at Weber, half of them are still two year degrees. They are not baccalaureate degrees at all. RL: Some students do go on to get their baccalaureate. JM: A state the size of Utah could hardly afford two research universities. One of the things I think the Board of Regents has done especially well is that they have taken a look at programs and tried to avoid duplication. There is one medical school in Utah and no dental school. There's one law school. I think those kinds of things make sense because a state the size of Utah really can't afford to run two medical schools or two law schools. RL: Brigham Young University does have a law school. It's privately funded, but even so, it is a situation where we've got a couple million people in Utah. JM: It's growing, heaven knows. It's a tiered system. California has the same kind of tiered system. You have your research universities and you have your state universities and it seems that's where the growth is happening, perhaps more than we need it right now. Utah Valley University is just huge and Southern Utah is a master's granting university again. Page 11 of 35 RL: Of course, Dixie has gone from a two-year program to a master's granting university. JM: Price is a satellite for Utah State which is different, but the fact that Dixie is getting university status in many ways is rather surprising. A lot of the people in St. George are snowbirds, but apparently they seem to think they have a population to support a university. RL: It is the same administrator down there that helped Weber State become a university. JM: Yes, Stephen Nadauld is there. It's interesting, I think, that Utah has done a pretty good job in figuring most of this out. I have great respect for the University of Utah and Utah State University and they have significant programs that are highly rated and they should be. I am proud of Weber. When I look at what's happened in the last couple years, I think about what happened with the music department. RL: There's a new advertisement showing our resident piano prodigy that says, "Chose Weber State Over Julliard." When you see that it picks you up. JM: It makes you proud. Fan Ya's success has resulted in more students coming for the music program because of how well this young woman has done. RL: She's got the support of the administration. JM: No question about it. It has been helpful. On top of that, I've never seen a girl or a boy work harder than she does. She's earned every inch of it. RL: We also have a top-notch nursing program. Getting back to the College of Education, are there students that you had in those early years that you have Page 12 of 35 learned about their accomplishments and whom you feel got the basis for them here? JM: Absolutely. That first year I taught at Weber, I taught secondary students. Depending on their major, many were a challenge in a literacy course. In a lot of other courses they were as well and the students would say, "Well, in our majors we never write." It was a challenge for me. One of my very finest students was Jeff Stephens, who is now superintendent of Weber School District. He got his master's here and he went off and got his doctorate. There are many that I see who are school principals, wonderfully successful classroom teachers, and reading coaches. I've been teaching the level two reading coaching class for about five or six years now and most of them have Master's degrees when they come back to get this extra certification. They are the cream of the crop. They're bright, hard-working and they make a huge difference in school. RL: They come back to Weber State, and I don't think that's necessarily just for the location. JM: I don't either, although that plays a role. RL: I think they are looking for a quality program. JM: I think so. Weber has made a huge effort to maintain the class sizes. I think the faculty reaches out to students in good ways. There are not classes that are taught by students who do not speak English which is a huge advantage. One of my boys did a doctorate at the University of Utah and in the last year he said, "It's a do-it-yourself thing. This fellow doesn't speak any English at all and it really is a do-it-yourself educational program." That doesn't happen at Weber. Faculty Page 13 of 35 teach the classes, which I think matters. I think our graduates that are out in the field tend to think, "I did well as an undergraduate at Weber. I'll go back and do some graduate work there." One of the things I am most proud of was that in our Master of Education program, we maintained high standards. Students did a thesis or a project which was very scholarly. Everybody at that stage knows how to take classes and how to pass classes. The thing that really separates the men from the boys is doing some research and writing about it. I'm proud of that. I think that our master's program in education can stand up to anybody's. RL: The emphasis at Weber has changed somewhat in the last 20 years and there's more of an emphasis for the faculty to have more scholarship and research involvement. That still hasn't changed their role with the students. JM: You're absolutely right. RL: Certainly, Weber has won some kudos for bringing the National Undergraduate Research program here to Weber. Also, the Undergraduate Literature Conference we have every year is still used as a cookie cutter model for other places. In Teacher Education, you had the ISTE international group of people here from Australia, New Zealand, Europe, and Africa. That has to be a feather in you cap. JM: I think so. Along that whole line is that the College of Education has managed their endowment well and it has given faculty opportunities to attend conferences in a variety of places both in this country and abroad. They've had opportunities to make contacts with scholars and teachers and that's been valuable. Page 14 of 35 RL: Has Teacher Education done anything in terms of cooperative programs? Are there sister universities or programs that you've maintained? JM: I think the one thing I can think about is when I first came to Weber, one of the faculty members originally came from Arizona and she had done a lot of work with Native Americans on the reservations. She was a really brilliant lady and her field was reading. When she came to Weber, she wrote some grants and we ended up taking our teacher education program to Blanding. I was the new kid on the block, so I taught quite a bit in Blanding and Bluff, which was an eye-opener for me. Most of them were Navajo students seeking education degrees in order to teach. At that time in Blanding, there was an elementary school and I would say maybe 80 percent of the youngsters were Native American children. There wasn't a single aid, teacher, or administrator that was Native American. In Bluff, I think 98 percent of the children were Native American kids and there not a single teacher or aid that was Native American. We took that program down for a number of years and we trained a number of teachers, which I think changed the whole educational environment down there. Some of them didn't end up in teaching, but ended up in federal agencies where their educational background was valued. RL: They advanced beyond what had been available previously. JM: It was interesting because the way the Pell Grants worked then was that they got the money no matter if they completed a class or not. Quarter after quarter, you'd have some of the same people in the class because they never finished a class, but they got their Pell Grant so that they could go to school. It also supported Page 15 of 35 them for food, rent, and all of their living expenses. The Navajo culture is very matriarchal and many of the men didn't work or there wasn't work for them. There were high rates of alcoholism. The women would come to class and the men would stand along the back wall like, "Don't you teach my wife anything, it'll change the world." Many of the women were very ambitious and looked at their children and thought, "It's going to be up to me or these kids are going to end up like their not very good dad." We had quite a bit of success with that. Many times, these teachers would come up in the summer to take classes on the campus. They'd bring their kids and live in the dorms. It was a big sacrifice for them. It was wonderful for us. Certainly, it was an opportunity for me, who came from a background where I knew very little about Native American populations. When I went to college, it was very un-diverse. We were mostly white, middle-class kind of people. RL: We've been lucky at Weber that several of our presidents have put an emphasis on diversity and unity. I know when I got here, I started looking around at our student body and someone had mentioned that Weber and Ogden School Districts were something like 25 percent Hispanic, Latino, etc. When I looked around on campus, there were fewer than one percent of our students that fit into that category. Certainly, it's not up to 20 or 25 percent, but we are more between 5 and 10 percent now. JM: Exactly. Families that perhaps never anticipated college for their kids are looking at education differently. Page 16 of 35 RL: We are certainly seeing a lot more brown faces, Asian students, Pacific Islanders, etc. I think that changes the flavor of the University in the right direction. In regard to that, you started here when we had President Brady and when he left Stephen Naduald came and then Paul Thompson and F. Ann Milner. That was a big feather in Weber's cap too, having a female president. JM: She was a very successful female president. It was at a time when Eastern Utah had hired a woman who ran through the money like water through the creek. When she left, that little college was in horrible condition because the money had been spent. I never went to a conference anywhere in the United States that she wasn't there. I would think, "This isn't your field. Why would you be interested in this?" Ann came with an excellent background and she'd been well-trained by Paul. She was a very successful woman not only on our campus, but across the state and with the legislature. RL: She was well-respected. JM: Absolutely. It is a feather in Weber's cap. No question. RL: As far as the different administrators and the type of ship they sailed in terms of their styles, did that affect your career in any way? JM: I think it did. When I was active in the Faculty Senate and I was faculty chair for three years and co-chair for three years. RL: You were the second woman to do that? JM: Yes. I think Rosemary Conover was the first one. I had a good six year run, which was nice. Paul Thompson was the president and he very much believed in shared governance. He gave us lots of opportunities to be heard and he was Page 17 of 35 good to work with in that he felt that there were a number of things about which the faculty needed to have an equal voice, to have a say and to be able to ask the hard questions. For most of us at that time working in faculty governance, we had great opportunities. RL: I think he was more willing to accept some of the suggestions coming out of the Senate. I remember at one point I was chairing the Academic Standards Committee and I was given a list of 13 or 14 things that needed to be accomplished. That was about the time of the Gulf War and we were having to come up with policies regarding students who were pulled out of class and sent to the Middle East and what were we going to do with them when they came back as far as tuition or letting them finish classes. There were a lot of major things that were being determined then that our committee was involved with. We ended up coming up with the tiered admission thing so that we could still meet the mission of the University, but take on the new issues that we were facing. I think that was a time when people did have a voice. As far as your involvement in heading up the Faculty Senate, were there major things occurring that you needed to deal with? What were they and what were some of the outcomes? JM: When I started in affairs of Faculty Senate, Tom Burton was the chair. He appointed me to the Curriculum Committee and that was both curriculum and general education at the time. RL: So you came in as a new faculty member first? JM: Yes. Then I became chair of the Curriculum Committee. At the time, curriculum and general education were combined into one committee. Of course, we didn't Page 18 of 35 have the technology, so everything would be delivered to my office and there would be a stack of papers to read through. Those were very different times. I look back at the number of trees we must have killed. Tom was a good mentor and a good trainer. Curriculum and General Education was a great place to start and became something that I continued to work in while I was at Weber, until the last few years. One of the things that happened during the time I was in Faculty Senate was the big conversion to semesters from quarters. I still maintain that most of my students, even some of my graduate students, have a ten week attention span, not a 15 or 16 week attention span. The state said it would cheaper and of course it wasn't cheaper, it cost tons of money to make the conversion. It was far more complex than any of us thought. We made a lot of presentations about the change and why not. At the time, I was on the State Committee for General Education and that was a wonderful time because it was the first faculty committee that was under the Board of Regents. Each of the colleges and universities was represented. I was on that for about 15 years and we did a lot of things. The legislature decided the institution needed to have some common numbers, particularly for general education courses. We did a lot of that without wrecking people's individual programs. Most students in Utah at some time or another attend another university somewhere in the state. With some common numbers in those undergraduate courses in general education, the transfer was easy. For me, personally, working with the faculty leaders from across the state was a wonderful experience. They were the brightest of the bright. It gave me access to Page 19 of 35 friendships and acquaintances that I never would have had and it allowed me to know who to talk to at each university when something came up. Another group I really liked working with was the group of Faculty Senate presidents. In fact, that's where I met our present president. He was the President of the Faculty Senate of the University of Utah when I was active at Weber. He was a good chemistry professor and very bright, so now for him to be our president is an interesting kind of thing. Anyway, they were wonderful, interesting, smart people that had lots of ideas. We had a lot of respect. We were appointed by the Board of Regents and then appointed within our universities. Bob Smith put me on, so that was a long time ago. I learned a lot about higher education and I also learned a lot about the curriculum and systems within our state and how well most of them work. The change from quarters to semesters was also a big deal. RL: That was in the mid-1990's, wasn't it? JM: Yes. I think it was about 1995. That was a really big switch. In some ways, it made us come into a commonality with other universities within our state. I have to laugh because all the arguments about why semesters are so much better than quarters are a crock. There are wonderful universities across the United States that are still on quarters like the University of Oregon, Stanford, Columbia, etc. RL: Judy, you've talked a little bit about your involvement with the Faculty Senate as chair and the General Education/Curriculum Committee after you stepped down as chair. At about that time, we had a big push with the diversity requirements in Page 20 of 35 the classes and the Curriculum and General Education became separate committees and they are very involved. JM: Yes, and I went back on General Education just a few years ago. RL: You mentioned that, so what I wanted to ask you how that worked out for you and did you stay involved with that until you left? JM: Yes, until about last year, I continued to serve on senate committees. I served on a number of senate committees, which was wonderful. I think they seemed to value my background and what I'd already done and it worked well for me because I really enjoyed working with my colleagues. During the time I was senate chair, I was also head of Teaching and Learning because our person left. I was wearing two hats and I had three offices instead of two. It was a busy time. My department was good about the release time and at that time the Faculty Senate had some money, so we did get release time, which was a huge help, I couldn't have done most of what I did if I hadn't had some release time. RL: This was during the time of Paul Thompson's presidency? JM: Yes it was. RL: Then he left and Ann Milner stepped up to the plate and hit a few home runs. JM: Right. While Paul was president and Eisler was the provost, I worked a lot with Eisler and when it came time to name a new president, it was between him and Ann, do you remember that? RL: Yes. I had been off campus then for a little while. Page 21 of 35 JM: He was the provost and was an academic and Ann was someone who came through Continuing Education and Paul had mentored her wonderfully. Of course, she is a bright woman and she did a good job. RL: She had been involved with Development. JM: She had all of those kinds of things on that side of the university. RL: Those are important too. JM: Well, raising money is always important in universities. For Ann, I was surprised when she stepped down when she did simply because the capital campaign was her baby. I was just really surprised that she didn't see it to the end. RL: She did mention when she first started that she would take it and put in ten good years and that's what she did. Were you involved with any of the things that she helped to develop? JM: I've been on the University Capital Campaign Committee, so if raising money is part of it, yes. I am head of the committee for the College of Education even though I've retired. RL: Speaking of the College of Education, you would have been through a few deans there. JM: That's one way to put it, yes. When I came Dick Jones was the dean. As I said, he came in without a level playing field in many ways because there were two faculty members that thought they should have been the dean. That made it really hard. He did some things really well and some things less well, but it's true of all of us. There was finally a vote of no confidence and I think that Bob Smith decided it was probably time for him to go before there was a formal vote of no Page 22 of 35 confidence. It wasn't over anything dishonest or anything like that. There were just enough differences so he left. Then they hired Green, and he was the first African American dean on campus. Again, like any dean, he had his interests and did some things really well and some things not so. Jack Rasmussen was the next. He had been here as a faculty member so most of us had worked with him. He was a good teacher and he seemed to be a good administrator, so when he applied for the position we were interested. He was the dean in North Dakota at a university. We were happy to have him back. The known is always kind of nice and we knew what to expect. I think he's been an effective dean. I think he's had the respect of the faculty, he's good to work with, and he's a dependable person. RL: How long has he been here now? JM: I'm not sure. I think he's been here for maybe seven years. He's the senior dean on campus. RL: You were talking about his being supportive. Was there a difference in the level of support you got from each of those deans? JM: I had wonderful support from all of them, I can't complain at all. There was always money for me to present at conferences. Ray Reutzel, who was a professor at Utah State and I applied for the editorship of, The Reading Teacher, which is the premier journal of the International Reading Association and received the appointment. That was a five year thing and they came out and visited with the President, Provost and Dean to make sure that I would have the support I would need to do the job. They did the same at Utah State for Ray. I Page 23 of 35 had release time for it and I had financial support from International Reading. My dean could have said no. It was when Green was the dean. I guess Eisler must have been the provost and Paul was the president and they met with all of them to say, "Can she do this? Will you give her support and release time?" There was no question. It was a prestigious journal to begin with and it was nice that westerners were nominated and chosen to do this. I learned a great deal from that experience. Reading has been the thing that I've been most interested in, so that was a wonderful thing. RL: It's a basis for many things in education, isn't it? JM: I think it's the basis for learning when it comes down to it. I think for the youngsters who struggle it isn't just learning how to read, it's how to use literacy. In your position you know all about that. The other thing I've had a lot of support on for 28 years is running a reading and writing conference every summer. The State has given me some money and Weber has given me some money and support. This is the first summer that we haven't done it. We've brought to campus outstanding people in the field of reading and writing to do the conference. That has been a wonderful thing for our students and for our teachers in the field. Things like that I will miss terribly. I do miss them. RL: Were there other national programs that you were involved with that you got particularly good support for? JM: Yes there surely were. Of course, going to conferences is part of it and presenting at conferences takes support. I was on quite a few national Page 24 of 35 committees for reading and literacy and children's books. Those people tend to be a community that knows one another. For me, it was a broadening kind of thing. It gave me people I could call on to hire for my reading conference. Probably the thing that gave both Ray and me the most exposure was that editorship. Ray went on and served on the Board of Directors of International Reading. He has an endowed chair at Utah State. He's a good scholar and good teacher and all those kinds of things. RL: You've mentioned that you're retired, but you're still here on campus. JM: Yes, but I am coming to the end. I had a substantial grant from the State to run the level two reading endorsement classes. There are three of them. There's a research class, an internship and a professional development class. The audience for those classes consists of people that have a level one endorsement in reading and are aspiring to be reading coaches in the schools. The level one classes can be taught within the school districts. For a long time we taught some of them and I have to laugh because I still see my syllabi floating around being used in the schools by somebody else. Level two has to be taught through the universities. Weber held on to those, but the problem is that the size of the audience for the classes is not very predictable and often not very big. Weber State University serves Box Elder, Davis, Weber and a few from Ogden school districts. RL: Of course, we now have an information literacy requirement for graduation here and to have the local school district do away with all of the media specialists… Page 25 of 35 JM: It doesn't make a bit of sense. Particularly in a district where there are more needy children than any district along the Front. They need those people. They are wonderfully well-trained. They are superb teachers. RL: The Regents said, "We need this computer and information literacy." One of the things that we were finding was that they were coming to us from the high schools unprepared. One of my colleagues wrote in a letter to the newspaper about seeing students come in and they've already written the paper and then they do the research because they need three references to put with the paper. Something is not right. JM: Something is not right. RL: Interesting times in the Ogden School Districts. JM: They have been interesting times for a long time. I know they are dealing with a lot of things that are difficult. I had a friend who was an administrator and we were talking about second language. He said, "It isn't the second language that's the problem, it's the poverty that's the problem." There are a lot of needy children and they need excellent teachers. Those media people are excellent teachers. They're cutting out all the part-time reading coaches as well. There are 240 and if they have them for 30 hours they don't have to pay any benefits. The whole thing is disgusting as far as I'm concerned. RL: In terms of your time at Weber, it sounds like you've accomplished a lot in the 30 years that you've been here on campus. Are there things that you were involved with that didn't succeed? Page 26 of 35 JM: Well, who's going to say yes to that? I'm kidding. There are certainly things that were successful at different levels. Some of the things I look back and I wonder why I ever opened my mouth. RL: It's perfectly alright for you to talk about that because it was something that you were concerned about. Were there things that you wish you had done and weren't able to for financial reasons or maybe Weber couldn't get involved because it wasn't the right time and place? As far as the big picture, were there other things that you would have liked to have seen? JM: When I came to Weber, I still had three youngsters at home. I was pretty place bound. After that, I went through a divorce and my two boys were then grown and out of the house and my daughter was in college. I started late with my academic career. I stayed home until my youngest was seven and didn't go back to work. Then, I had to get a license to teach school. I was place bound for a number of years. I think had I done things earlier, I might have left Weber and had some other kinds of experiences. At the time, with my personal life, when it was time to do those sorts of things, it was late to do them. I loved Weber and quite frankly, I think, "Where would I have had the opportunities that Weber has given me?" I had never thought I planned my life particularly well if you want to know the truth. I've kind of fallen into things without as much planning as I might have done. When I finally decided to go back to school and to teach, the hook that really was there for me was that I was fascinated with how children learn to read. What is it that happens in our brains? In watching children who struggle, what is Page 27 of 35 the difference in how they look at the world or how they process everything from children who don't seem to struggle? Luckily, my children did not struggle, and I did not struggle. Having worked with youngsters in school who do struggle, I thought it would be tough if I worked with these kids in school and then had to go home and work with my own, but my children did wonderfully academically. I really liked Weber and with a university this size, you can make some differences. When I was in college and got this music degree I could have taught piano maybe, but I didn't know how to do anything. I didn't know how to type when I graduated from college. I went to Wright-MacMahon Secretarial School in Beverly Hills for a year and learned how to do all kinds of secretarial things. RL: Was this after you finished you bachelor's at Stanford? JM: Yes. That's how I happened to come home and work for Amalgamated Sugar and then for Security Corporation. I had wonderful jobs. RL: When you mentioned being an executive secretary, I was wondering if that position had required a Bachelor's degree. JM: Well, let me tell you some of the things I did for First Security. I worked for Willard Eccles and I wrote all the Board and Executive Board minutes for the corporation, although, I never went to a meeting. He did all the public relations and advertising for the corporation and I learned a lot. I probably would have gone on working for First Security, but I married and when my first baby was born, I didn't work again for another ten or fifteen years. When I came back to school, perhaps if I had been more thoughtful about what I really wanted to do, I might have done something other than education. I Page 28 of 35 don't know. My father was a physician. The summer between high school and college, I worked in the newborn nursery at the old Dee Hospital and just loved it. I wanted to go to nursing school. My father wouldn't hear of it. Those were the days. He said, "No, you're not going to go to nursing school. You have the wrong thumbs for the bed pans." So, I didn't do that. In college, I had developed a lot of other interests as well. I look back and think probably what I would have done in a different era would be to have gone to medical school. I was bright enough to and I think I would have really liked it. RL: The mentality then was that women in medicine were nurses. JM: They were odd ducks if they went to medical school. My father just couldn't see that for sour apples. He was a physician and he couldn't see this thing at all. Later on, we had a lot of talks about this whole thing and his outlook changed. I had one female friend in law school and a couple in business school. Most of them were in more traditional majors for women. I have a niece who graduated in law and my daughter is in architecture, both nontraditional women's fields. My generation was different. RL: Well, we have touched on a lot of different things. What about your time at Weber? Are there things that you might have done differently other than having gone somewhere else? I've seen a lot of people here on campus who leave and come back because this is a great place to be. JM: And I am not sure that I would have left. I liked the administrative experiences I had. I was department chair, and I directed the graduate program for 13 or 14 years. I had a lot of freedom on that because we developed a thesis system. Page 29 of 35 When I got here they were doing some little paper that was paper bound and we said, "No, this does not look like professional scholarly work." We did a lot with curriculum and all that was very satisfactory to me. The other thing I guess I could mention are civic kinds of things that have mattered to me. I was president of the Junior League before I ever came to Weber. I've been on the symphony board for a long time. I'm a Commissioner for Landmarks for Ogden City and I'm on the Heritage Board. Those things are interesting to me. I've been involved with the music department simply so I could return to my roots. I've had fun knowing the people in the music department and the students. I'm really quite busy. I think the thing that scared me most about retiring was, "What if I don't have anything to do?" Of course, I've been teaching classes, but I won't at the end of this semester because there's no money to do it, which makes me sad because I just loved my students. The reading coaches were the brightest of the bright. They were just wonderful. My connection with the school districts, particularly with the Weber and the Davis districts has been very satisfying and keeps your hand in to see what's happening out there. I will miss that. I still serve on the Board of the State Reading Association and I get to see all of these great people I've either had in school or known. They have moved ahead and have done wonderful things in their lives and I am proud of that. RL: That's wonderful. Sometimes you can go to a banquet and pick up lots of things and you walk away and you're still hungering for something and then there are other times when things fall into place and you can say that you were satisfied. Page 30 of 35 JM: I think that is absolutely true and I still see a number of my colleagues from Weber. One thing that was terrific about the Faculty Senate work was that I had the opportunity to meet people in all departments. When I arrived, I was shocked that there was so little communication between the College of Education, particularly Teacher Education, and across campus. It just didn't happen. Accreditation meant that it had to happen and working in the Senate allowed me opportunities to meet people across the campus that I never would have known. RL: I think with things like the Community Involvement Program and the Teaching and Learning Forum and all of the programs now for helping people develop online classes and so forth, people are interacting a lot more than previously. JM: Yes. I think they are too. Ruby, were you here when we did Writing Across the Curriculum? RL: I was. JM: That was a wonderful time for exactly what you're talking about. RL: It brought people together from different parts of the campus and took you someplace and you sat down and you could exchange ideas for how to teach or how to develop particular processes and so forth. It was a good program. I think Teaching and Learning came from that because Lee McKenzie was the one who developed that. JM: She was a lovely lady. That was a tragic kind of thing. RL: It was. When you said that you did Teaching and Learning Forum for a year, I wondered whether that might have been about the time that Lee had to leave. Page 31 of 35 JM: I can't remember what the circumstances were, but suddenly we didn't have a director and Teaching and Learning fell on the Faculty Senate. We were doing whatever we were doing to find someone to head it up as I remember. It was an eye opener to me. I'd served on it at one time or another before that, so it wasn't completely new or anything. RL: It was a great program, and I think Lee did a great job establishing it. JM: She did. I remember that one of the faculty members who was perhaps the most changed and it was most surprising was a fellow that was in accountancy. He used it widely in his accountancy classes. You would think it would have been history or English, but I'll never forget that. He was such a proponent of the whole thing. I thought that was a really good program. I liked all of the things that mixed us up with other disciplines. I thought it really mattered. RL: I think there's more of that kind of thing happening now and it can only strengthen the college. JM: Absolutely. I think that this community outreach is a tremendous thing. I am really curious to see how this is going to go downtown because I guess those spaces are about completed on Washington. Is it going to be Continuing Education classes or Adult Education? I have no idea what's going to go in there, do you? RL: I don't. JM: It's wonderful space. I thought, "Good." Remember when we were in the basement of the mall? Page 32 of 35 RL: Yes. I don't know if you were involved or remember in the very early nineties, before we had the whole Community Involvement Program, we had some of our athletes working at the Lewis School helping children with teaching. JM: I do remember that. There was faculty sending their students out to look at things. In Education, we'd send them out because they've got to be in the schools. Other disciplines were doing a lot of things as well. RL: I like it here. JM: I don't blame you. I like it here too. I think it's a good setting for students. There are more and more kinds of things to engage the students. I liked the programs where they put classes together in a cohort for new freshman. Those kinds of things have been successful. They've helped kids not to get lost and provided a way for them to become connected with other students, particularly if they're students that just commute. I'm happy to see the new dorms because I think it's more attractive to live on campus than ever before. I think that's good. We have a lot of administrators and faculty that have done good things to promote what's happening on our campus. It's a beautiful campus and when I was walking over here today I thought, "What a pretty time of year with the stream and the pond and the beautiful trees and bushes." It's a beautiful campus. RL: My brother was trying to explain to someone that I lived in an area where every place you look is a postcard. JM: What a compliment. RL: Then he said, "No, come to think of it, she lives in a postcard." Page 33 of 35 It sounds as though your years here have been good and I'm glad to hear it. Certainly, if you think of things later that you would have liked to have told us about, please get in touch. I want to thank you for taking the time to do this. JM: You're welcome. It's been my pleasure. RL: It's been a good program for us and it's good when we get someone like you who's been involved across the board and can help to build that picture of what Weber State has been over the years. JM: Don't you feel it has come a great, far distance in terms of sophistication? RL: Absolutely. JM: I think that it's become more scholarly. RL: It's certainly not Harrison High any longer, is it? JM: It surely is not. One of the things that I think has made a difference is that the standards for tenure have changed. That was another thing we did in those years in making Weber a more scholarly university—higher demands. RL: We've been able to maintain some of the earlier things, regardless. JM: For teaching there is no question about it. The standards for hiring people have become more comparative with other universities. When University of Utah or Utah State complains about Weber I have to laugh because I think of the numbers of faculty that were trained in those two institutions and if there's something wrong with this then it's their fault, not ours. RL: We keep showing up on more and more national lists and I think partly it's because of people like you. Page 34 of 35 JM: Well, thank you, that is a compliment. As I say, like you, I have not regretted my years at Weber. I've been proud of them. RL: Thank you for being with us today. JM: You're welcome. Page 35 of 35

Issue 70.2 of the Review for Religious, 2011. ; Virtue Movements Ignatian Insight Consecrated Life quarterly 70.2 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 Telephone: 314-633-4610 ¯ Fax: 314-633-4611 E-Maih reviewrfr@gmail.com ° Web site: www.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ° St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ° P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2011 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific libra~ clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. A copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on th first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribution, advertisinl institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permissio will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. ~ gournal of Catholic ~piri~uali~ Celebrating 70 Years Editor Book Review Editor Scripture Scope Editorial Staff Advisory Board Michael G. Harter SJ Rosemary Jermann Eugene Hensell OSB Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp Paul Coutinho SJ Martin Erspamer OSB Margaret Guider OSF Kathleen Hughes RSCJ ¯ Louis and Angela Menard Bishop Terry Steib SVD quarterly 70.2 2011 contents prisms 116 Prisms 118 132 virtue movements Salesian Simplicity: How a "Little Virtue" Can Go a Long Way Thomas F. Dailey OSFS examines simplicity in the teaching of St. Francis de Sales and the religious life of the Visitation of Holy Mary, founded in 1610. He proposes that their "hidden life" of "little virtues" provides meaning even for those beyond the monastery's walls. Personal Reflection and/or Group Discussion Telling Ou.r Story: Movements of Transformation Beatrice M. Eichten OSF offers ideas for sharing the story of transformational moments in our lives to better under-stand what we have experienced and to allow God to be more alive and active in our lives. 146 ignatian insight 0 Approaching the Principle and Foundation from St. Ignatius's MysticalWorldview Edward McCormack builds on the insights of Gilles Cusson and Joseph Tetlow, and sets the Foundation within the context of Ignatius's mystical experience at Manresa and the resulting worldview in order to better understand the role the Foundation plays in the Exercises, particularly with regard to the preparatory period. Review for Religious 165 Discerning the Spirit: A Personal Journey Richard J. Hauser SJ testifies to the importance of appropriating the discipline of the discernment of spirits in our daily Christian living. 179 194 201 consecrated life @ Apostolic Visitations: Clare of Assisi's Insights from the Thirteenth Century John V. Kruse examines how Clare of Assisi responded nearly 800 years ago to papal visits that sought to shape the form of religious life that Clare desired to live. Her example has tnuch to say to women religious experiencing the Vatican visitation and investigation of women religious in the United States. Consecrated Life in the Ecclesiology of Vatican II Amy Hereford CSJ discusses the place of consecrated life in light of the ecclesiology of the Second Vatican Council, the new Code of Canon Law, and recent developments. Personal Reflection and/or Group Discussion A Grain of Hope: Canada's First Carmelite Nun Mary Patricia of the Holy Spirit OCD and Mary Ruth of the Sacred Heart OCD recount how deep desires and a providential encounter led to the founding of the first monastery of Discalced Carmelites in Canada. departments 209 Scripture Scope: Ezekiel: The Strangest of All the Old Testament Prophets 215 Book Reviews 115 70.2 2011 prisms 116 ~hen I was a young boy, my mother thought it would be good for me to know how to swim, so she took me to the local pool and arranged for me to take lessons. I found the whole experience a bit intimidating. But once I learned to overcome the fear of having my head underwater, I was quickly off to explore the deep end of the pool. While I am still a bit hesitant to jump into cold water, I have no fear of swimming., or taking on new challenges. That memory returned to me as I began editing Review for Religious. And though I am older now and have much more experience, old fears occasionally lurk in the shadows. When our publication was invited to attend a recent seminar on the theology of consecrated life sponsored by the USG/UISG, the unions of superiors general of men's and women's religious congregations, I began to wonder if I was getting in over my head. My long-time mentor, Dave Fleming, assured me that I would represent the Journal well and that it would be a most valuable learning experience. Twenty superiors general and thirty theolo-gians assembled in Rome between February 7 Review for Religious and 11 to "take careful stock of the situation of the the-ology of apostolic consecrated life at this present time; to identify the main questions and challenges being posed to this theology by the situation of the world and the church today, in view of the future journey of conse-crated persons and the Institutes to which they belong; and to catalyze renewed study and research in this field so as to enhance the vitality of the witness to be given by consecrated persons." The participants, equally divided between women and men, represented all the populated parts of our planet from Oceana through India, Africa, Europe, to North, Central, and South America. We looked at the context of religious life in the cosmos from the "big bang" to the eschaton. We talked about the tensions of living our traditional vows in a post-mod-ern- even post-Christian--globalized world. We strug-gled to be mindful of ecological issues and the need for collaboration among the old orders and with the laity and members of emerging new religious communities. The presentations were rich in diversity and were fur-ther refined and nuanced in the ensuing conversations in small work groups or over dinner. None of the participants had clear answers or simple solutions. That was not the goal of the seminar. We did, however, pledge ourselves to keep pursuing questions, exploring mystery, and sharing our discoveries. That is what Review for Religious has been doing for 70 years in simple and profound ways. We hope to be a vital medium to enable that conversation to continue. Immersion in a pool of such rich thinking and expe-rience was invigorating. It is reassuring to be reminded, once again, that we have good company in the deep waters of religious life. Michael .G. Harter SJ 117 70.2 2011 THOMAS E DAILEY Salesian Simplicity: How a "Little Virtue" Can Go a Long Way virtue movements Four hundred years ago, simplicity was retrieved by two saints and given a new form.~ In June 1610, Francis de Sales and Jane de Chantal established the religious order of the Visitation of Holy Mary in Annecy, France. Begun with three nuns who would spend their day in prayer and occasionally visit the poor and sick in town--a radically new apostolic twist at the time--the order now has numerous monasteries throughout the world and includes those sisters who took up residence in the "Mater Ecclesiae" monastery in the Vatican in 2009. The superior there succinctly describes the particular charism of this religious order in Thomas E Dailey OSFS holds the Fr. Louis Brisson Chair in Salesian Spirituality and is Professor of Theology at DeSales University, where he is also the founding director of the Salesian Center for Faith & Culture. He may be addressed at DeSales University; 2755 Station Avenue; Center Valley, Pennsylvania 18034. Review for Religious terms that match the focus of the conference at which this paper was originally presented: "The spirit of the Visitation is one of profound humility toward God, and great meekness toward the neighbor--a spirit that does not put the accent on exterior austerity. The sisters must supply it with interior renunciation and with a great simplicity and joy in the common life.''2 That spirit of simplicity aligns directly with Francis de Sales's vision of the virtuous Christian life and takes a distinct form within the contemplative life of the Visitation order. And, as we will suggest, this four-hundred- year-old tradition remains especially relevant for the pursuit of holiness in the hectic world of the twenty-first century. Simplicity as a Virtue in Salesian Spirituality For St. Francis de Sales, simplicity paves the way to holiness. In his classic book on that subject--an Introduction to the Devout Li~--this Doctor of the Church posited the then revolutionary idea that holiness is pos-sible for everyone, not just the professionally religious monks and nuns, and that this holiness is realized in and through one's vocation or state in life. In his view, what makes the possible actual is the life of virtue. Seeking to forge a middle ground for religious devo-tion between the supereminent tendencies of spiritual mysticism and the austere practices of ascetical, discipline, he champions the exercise of "little virtues"--those vir-tues that are able to be practiced in an ordinary way amid everyday relationships. He explains that "We do not very often come across opportunities for exercising" magnificent feats of virtue (like courageously saving someone from a burning building), but little ones-- like gentleness, modesty, and humility--are continually 119 70.2 2011 Dailey ¯ Salesian Simplicity What unites the various aspects and exercises of simplicity is the notion that this virtue entails being "transparent," called for as "graces which ought to color everything we do." Thus, he encourages the practice of "the best virtues, not those which are most highly esteemed; the most excellent, not the most visible; the truest, not the most conspicuous.''3 Concerning simplicity, which he names most often in the various lists of the "little virtues" that appear throughout his writings, de Sales suggests any number of ways in which this can be carried out in one's daily comportment. For example, in terms of fashion, simplicity shows itself in the propriety of one's clothing. Adding wit to his wisdom, he writes, "Old people are always ridiculous when . they try to make themselves pretty. Such folly can be put up with only in youth.''4 Or, in terms of language, simplicity calls forth words that are both frank and honest, while it challenges us to hold our tongue when called upon to speak about ourselves; as the saint explains, Without doubt, whoever speaks little of himself does so extremely well; for, whether it be that we speak in accusing ourselves or in excusing ourselves, in praising ourselves or in despising ourselves, it will always happen that our speech serves to entice us to vanity. If, therefore, some great charity draws us to speak of ourselves and our relatives, we must hold our tongue about it.5 Even more so, simplicity in speech is opposed to any sort of equivocation; in Francis's view nothing so out- Review for Religious rages truth as duplicity, "For those who attempt to shield truth by artifice actually kill and suffocate it.''6 Finally, in terms of relationships, where, according to Wendy Wright, Francis gives to simplicity its partic-ular nuance, to be simple means to act without cunning or guile.7 It enables us to avoid prosaic illusions, those illusions of grandeur which in reality are nothing more than mental temptations: There are souls that make great plans to do excel-lent services for Our Savior, by eminent actions and extraordinary sufferings--but actions and sufferings which there is no opportunity to carry out and per-haps never will be. Based on this, these souls think they have done some great thing in love; in this they are very often deceived, for while they embrace in desire what seems to them to be great future crosses, they anxiously avoid the burden of lesser ones that are present. Is it not an extreme temptation to be so val-iant in imagination, and so cowardly in execution?''8 Instead of being so deceived, devout persons seek simply to serve God, even if they do not experience contentment in doing so: It is necessary to consider that there is no vocation that does not have its trouble, its bitterness and its distaste; and, what is more, if this is so among those not fully resigned to the will of God, each would wish volun-tarily to change his condition to some other. From where comes this general inquietude of spirit if not from a certain displeasure that we have about what is contrary, and a malignity of spirit that makes us think that another is better than we are? But it is all the same: whoever is not fully resigned, who turns this way and that, he will never have rest . A person who no lon-ger has the restlessness of his own will is content with everything: provided that God be served, it does not matter in what manner God employs him: provided that he does his divine will, it is all the same to him.9 121 70.2 2011 Dailey ¯ Salesian Simplicity To use a modern term, what unites these various aspects and exercises of simplicity is the notion that this virtue entails being "transparent." As Wendy Wright describes it, in living a simple life [a]ll the ornament and artifice on the outside is peeled away; all the complicated criss-crosses of self-reflec-tion and multiple considerations on the inside are also gently relinquished and given second place . And that transparency then is a window through which God and the deepest center of the person can come together. Nothing remains between God and person.'° But the transparency of a virtuous life that is unadorned and unpretentious does not render simplic-ity a simple thing! On the contrary, this "little" virtue, when lived to its fullest, encompasses the whole of life in its adherence to the will of God in all things. In other words, it entails a perfect correspondence between who we are and how we act. That is the way of life sought by the Visitation sisters, for whom simplicity is consti-tutive of their particular charism in the church and for the world.~l 122 Simplicity as Sanctity in the Visitation Order For the Visitation sisters, the Salesian understanding of simplicity as a virtue extends beyond the practices of everyday life to encompass the totality of their exis-tence. Simplicity, in this sense, is an attitude of being more than an attribute of action. Cultivating this atti-tude is the direction that Francis de Sales sets for the spiritual life of Jarie de Chantal and for the religious order she would lead. From his first encounter with her in Dijon,12 Francis emphasized the need for Jane to develop a more simple life. As the amusing story is told, he took the opportunity Review for Religious at one of their first encounters to indicate blithely that her manner of dress should reflect her state in life as a widow: One day that Madame de Chantal had come to dine, she appeared a bit more dressed up and decked out than she ordinarily did. "Madame," said the bishop, "do you have plans to remarry? . Oh, no, Monsignor," she replied quickly. "Well then," replied the saint, "it should be necessary to take down the flag.''13 But more important would be Jane's interior focus; over the course of several years, his spiritual direction led her to simplify her entire life. That process of simplifi-cation- what Wendy Wright describes as St. Jane's own "call within a call"14--would also come to characterize the entire religious order that she established with him. Rooted in the twin Salesian virtues of humility and gentleness, the foundation of the Visitation order had only a simple aim, which Francis de Sales explains in a letter to the cardinal archbishop of Lyon, who objected to the sisters' practice of leaving the monastery to visit the sick. Francis writes that the purpose of this new group of nuns is to give to God daughters of prayer and souls so interior that they be found worthy of serving his infinite Majesty and of adoring him in spirit and in truth. Leaving the grand orders already established in the church to honor Our Lord by excellent exercises and brilliant virtues, I wish that my daughters would have no other intention than to glorify him by their abasement; that this little Institute of the Visitation be like a poor dove among innocent doves, whose care and concern is to meditate upon the law of the Lord without making themselves seen or understood by the world; that they dwell hidden in the cleft of the rock and in the secret of the recesses in order there to give to their Beloved, by their living and dying, '123 70.2 2011 Dailey ¯ Salesian Simplicity some proofs of the grief and the love of their hearts, expressed by their lowly and humble groaning.~s That "hiddenness" of their life discloses their sin-gularity of purpose. It also gives rise to a distinguishing feature of this new order, namely, the practice of admit-ting as sisters women who, through age or infirmity or widowhood, were too frail to undertake the penitential austerities of other contemplative orders. Instead, the Visitation sisters would practice an interior discipline, one cultivated through the progressive development of personal simplicity amid a joyful common life.16 The way by which the sisters would grow in simplic-ity is mapped out for them most clearly in the Spiritual Conferences--a compilation of informal question-and-answer sessions conducted in the courtyard or parlor of the monastery, in which the bishop clarified the distinctive way of life for the members of his new institute. Notwithstanding the limitations of the liter-arT form or the reliability of the published versions,17 these conferences do reveal the mindset of St. Francis de Sales, for whom simplicity is nothing less than the pursuit of perfection. That pursuit begins with the realization of what exactly this virtue is. The holy bishop tells the sisters, "Simplicity is nothing other than an act of pure and sim-ple charity that has only one goal, which is to acquire the love of God. Our spirit is simple when we have no other aim in all that we do or want."18 Then he indicates to them, by way of the biblical story of Martha and MarT, that simplicity and charity are inseparably linked, such Simplicity runs counter to any interior agitation. Review for Religious that the "act of simple charity allows us to look at and have no other goal in sight in all our actions.''~9 And this, he claims, is a distinctively Christian virtue. He then explains that the sisters' singularity of focus through simplicity2° will facilitate their pursuit of holiness by fleeing them from the torment of spiritual restlessness and inquietude. Born from the humility that recognizes the inevitable imperfection inherent to human nature, simplicity runs counter to any interior agitation, as the saint explains elsewhere: You know that God wishes, in general, that one serve him, by loving him above all things and our neighbor as ourselves . That said, it is necessary to do so in good faith, without finesse or subtlety, which would be in the manner of this world, where perfection does notreside, in a human way and according to this time, while waiting to do so in the divine and angelic world and according to eternity. Neither pressure nor agitation of purpose serve any good; desire is good, but let it be without agitation. It is this pressure from which I [wish to] shield you, as the mother imperfection of all imperfections.21 In more positive terms, simplicity is the corollary of that liberty of spirit that comes from love. Speaking again to the sisters, he claims that Simplicity banishes from the human spirit both the need and the anxiety that many develop, so they say, as they search for the ability to love God by the sheer number of exercises and other means. It seems to them that if they do everything that the Saints have done, they will most certainly be satisfied. What poor people! They are to be pitied! They torment themselves to find the art of loving God. They don't know that there is none except to love Him. They think that there is a certain ingenuity to acquire this love which is truly found only in simplicity.22 70.2 2011 Dailey ¯ Salesian Simplicity 1261 Ultimately, the sisters' simple love for God can and should integrate all the aspects of their life. In other conferences, their founder explains how related vir-tues can help them to practice this simplicity. Through humility they learn to embrace the mortifications and abjections of everyday life, for, in his words, "our misery is the throne of God's mercy.''23 Through wonder about their imperfections in contrast to the divine goodness exercised in their regard, they are invited to place their confidence entirely in God.24 Through the joy this con-templation brings, they are called to exercise holy indif-ference in all matters; on this point the saint concludes his final conference with this farewell: "I say, therefore, that it is necessary to ask for nothing and refuse noth-ing, but to be left in the arms of divine Providence, without bemusing ourselves about any desire, except to will what God wills of us . M1 our perfection consists in the practice of this point.''2s To summarize the teaching of the Spiritual Conferences, consider this image that Francis de Sales gives to the sisters: A child while she is young is in a state of such sim-plicity that she has no knowledge of anyone except her mother. She has only one love, which is for her mother, and in this love there is only one goal, which is her bosom. She wants nothing else. The Christian who enjoys perfect simplicity has only one love, only one goal, which is to rest on our heavenly Father's bosom and, once there, to be a loving child, rest-ing there and leaving every care of self to her good Father, without ever troubling [herself] about any-thing, except to dwell in this holy confidence.26 Imagined thus, the cultivation of perfect simplicity remains the particular charism of the Visitation sisters Review for Religious and distinguishes their monastic life from that of people living in the world. While the former "must place all their cares in the hands of God . . . leaving themselves totally in the arms of divine Providence," the latter must exercise another virtue. As the bishop notes, they must practice prudence in order to increase their means. They have a great concern about supporting their families; otherwise they would not fulfill their responsibilities. Even though they ought to depend more on Divine Providence than on their own strength, so they must not neglect thinking about their affairs. 27 Thus, the question remains: how do we retrieve sim-plicity from the four-hundred-year-old tradition of the Visitation in order to foster a life of virtue among those living in today's world? Retrieving Salesian Simplicity for Today's World In our contemporary culture, marked as it is by the notion that spirituality is separate from, or an addition to, the myriad cares and concerns of everyday life, the Salesian tradition of the devout life as a universal call to holiness, and the practice of virtue that attends it, holds great promise even for those who do not have the luxury of freedom from worldly pursuits. From this tradition, we can retrieve the simple life today through that humil-ity and wonder and joy by which we learn to "be real." To be real is, first of all, to accept the fact of our human condition. It is to "be who we are" in the hum-ble realization that we are not perfect. It recognizes that our progress in virtue is neither rapid nor permanent. To be who we are is simply to acknowledge our sinful nature. St. Francis de Sales gently notes, we are sometimes so busy being good angels that we neglect to be good men and women. Our imper- [127 70.2 2011 Dailey ¯ Salesian Simplicity 128 fections are going to accompany us to the grave. We can't go anywhere without having our feet on the ground, yet we don't just lie there, sprawled [in the dust]. On the other hand, we mustn't think we can fly, for we are like little chicks who don't have wings yet. We die little by little; so our imperfections must die with us, a little each day.28 In the second place, to be real is to accept the truth of our personal character. It is to "be what we are" in grateful wonder at having been created at all. It recog-nizes that our time and energy are wasted in dreaming of another life here below where the proverbial grass may be greener. To be what we are is simply to welcome the life we have been given. St. Francis de Sales humorously says, Let us be what we are and be that well, in order to bring honor to the Master Craftsman, whose handi-work we are. People laughed at the painter who, intending to paint a horse, came up with a perfect bull; the work was handsome in itself, but not much credit to the artist who had other plans and suc-ceeded in this one only by chance. Let us be what God wants us to be, provided we are His, and let us not be what we would like to be, contrary to His intention. Even if we were the most perfect crea-tures under heaven, what good would that do us if we were not as God's will would have us be?29 Finally, to be real is to accept the far-ranging vicis-situdes of this life as coming from the hand of God. It is to "be where we are" in the joyful awareness that whatever is happening in our lives (or not), this is where God is pleased to have us be. It recognizes that the pres-ent moment is the only time within our control. To be where we are is simply to embrace all that occurs each day. St. Francis de Sales wisely suggests, Let us be firmly resolved to serve God with our whole heart and life. Beyond that, let us have no care Review for Religious about tomorrow. Let us think only of living today well, and when tomorrow comes, it also will be today and we can think about it then. In all this we must have great trust and resignation to God's providence. We must make provision for enough manna for the day, and no more. Let us not doubt that God will provide more for us tomorrow, and the day after tomorrow, and all the days of our pilgrimage.3° In sum, the virtue of simplicity as it comes to us through Salesian spirituality promotes human integ-rity. It seeks a correspondence between what is interior and exterior, between our vision and our comportment. It leads to peace by focusing our pursuits clearly and squarely on the love of God. And it allows us to be real in a world that is fast becoming virtual, so that who and what and where we are in God's eyes is all we need be. Notes ~ Originally presented at the eleventh annual fall conference of the University of Notre Dame's Center for Ethics & Culture (18-20 November 2010), whose theme was "Younger Than Sin: Retrieving Simplicity through the Virtues of Humility, Wonder, and Joy." 2 Nicola Gori, "Le visitiandine in Vaticano," L'Osservatore Romano, 2 December 2009. 3 Introduction to the Devout Life, III:1. 4 Introduction to the Devout Life, III:25. s Oeuvres de Saint Francois de Sales, gdition complkte (Annecy: J. Nidrat, 1892-1964), XXV1:283. 6jean Pierre Camus, The Spirit of St. Francois de Sales, edited and newly translated and with an introduction by C.E Kelley (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1952), 124-125. 7 Wendy Wright, "Simplicity in the Salesian Sources," Salesian Living Heritage (Spring/Fall 1989): 8. "It is Francis's particular nuance. ¯. In a very sophisticated society with all types of people doing every kind of machination, cautious about the manner of approaching people and what should be said to whom and what effect one is making and what little white lies will make this effect and that effect, he says: 'No! We must be free of duplicity, free of guile, free of deceitfulness.'" 70.2 2011 Dailey ¯ Salesian Simplicity 8 Oeuvres V:329; see Oeuvres XXVI:366 - "Take care to manage these little encounters that God presents to you, put in them your virtue, and do not desire great works; for often one lets himself be knocked down by a gnat when he combats monsters by imagination." 9 Oeuvres XII:348. t0 Wright, "Simplicity in the Salesian Sources," p. 10. 1, Wright, "Simplicity in the Salesian Sources," p. I0: "Francis does make a distinction between religious and laity. He says that this kind of radical resting on the breast of God without care of self, without self-protection, is the particular charism of the Visitandines. ¯ . . Freedom from this demand [of worldly prudence] is the special luxury of the Visitation." 12 On 5 March 1604, Jane Frances Fr~myot, baroness de Chantal, attended the series of Lenten sermons hosted by her brother, the Archbishop of Dijon. The preacher was Francis de Sales. From their first encounter, and through his spiritual direction of her, a deep and lasting friendship was born. See Wendy Wright, "Spiritual Friendship and Spiritual Direction," Studia Mystica 12 (March 1989): 49-63. ~3 F. Vidal, Aux sources de la joie avec Saint Francois de Sales, 3rd edition (Paris: Nouvelle Librairie de France, 1964), p. 79: 14 Wright, "Simplicity in the Salesian Sources," p. 11: "In the early years of her relationship with Francis, Jane is a tremendously intuitive woman, with powers of discerning spirits within herself, a strong psychological sense. Part of her growth is in this simplification, moving away from examining every motive, looking at it, turning it over a million ways. She has becomes just simple, doing what needs to be done, looking to God in love." is Oeuvres 17:16-17, with reference to Canticle 2:14. 16 Nevertheless, the Visitation lifestyle would still seek simplic-ity through exterior comportment in terms of ~lress (by wearing a widow's habit), language (by promoting both cordiality and silence), and conduct (by the humble exercise of monastic ranks, which were to be changed each year). ~7 As a literary form, the "conferences" are actually recollections of the talks as written by nuns with an incredibly strong memory. As to which published texts are "true" or "false" versions, and what that means for the reliability of the saint's thought expressed there, see William Ruhl's introduction to his new English translation of the French text reconstructed by Roger Devos (available online at www. oblates.org/spirituality/spiritual_conferences). 18 Conference 14, "On the Subject of Simplicity" (Devos, p. 173). Review for Religious ,9 Conference 14, "On the Subject of Simplicity" (Devos, p. 173). 20 Don Luigi Scanu, "La semplicith secondo San Francesco di Sales," Rivista di ascetica e mistica 4/2 (1959): 144, describes it thus: "If the soul had eyes, simplicity could be compared to the lenses that render seeing more acute, (more) fixed on God." 2~ Oeuvres XII: 167. 22 Conference 14, "On the Subject of Simplicity" (Devos, p. 174). 23 Oeuvres VI:22. 24 Oeuvres Vl:20. 2s Oeuw'es VI:384. 26 Conference 14, "On the Subject of Simplicity" (Devos, p. 179). 27 Ibid., p. 180. 28 Francis de Sales, Jane de Chantal, Letters of Spiritual Direction, trans. P6ronne Marie Thibert VHM (New York: Paulist Press, 1988), p. 98. 29 Oeuvres Xli:53-54. 3o Letters of Spiritual Direction, pp. 98-99. Personal Reflection / Group Discussion At what times in your life have you felt the need to live more simply? What led you to move in that direction? What might have held you back? Are there other ".little virtues" that it would be good for us to work on in our community or for me as an individual to give more attention to? ,131 70.2 2011 BEATRICE M. EICHTEN Telling Our Story: Movements of Transformation Ware each born into a flowing moment of history, ¥ ¥ into a family, a culture, and a given set of circum-stances. All of these shape our story and our identity. We begin moving through life with a set of definitions and expectations given to us by our family, our soci-ety, and our church about who we are and who we are meant to become. At some point, however, we begin the journey of coming into our own. We begin to claim ourselves and engage in an ongoing process of trans-formation. I purpose to reflect on how we claim our story and enter into, understand, and use the inner gifts and sacred energy given to each of us by God. For those of us who chose to enter communal religious life, it is helpful to reflect on what called us to move out of a conventional life path and begin the journey of becom-ing and living as a vowed religious. We entered into a Beatrice M. Eichten OSF is a spiritual director and consultor for religious communities. Her address is 577 Huff Street, #1; Winona, Minnesota 55987. Review for Religious communal life of prayer and contemplation, of relation-ships that support and challenge, and of ministry that both fulfills and stretches us. Little did we know that immersion in our religious community with its unique charism would be a critical element of our ongoing dis-covery of the mystery and miracle of God alive in every aspect of our life. It is helpful to reflect on how this communal life has been important for our growth and development. Simply adopting a religious lifestyle is no guaran-tee of growth. Within religious communal life, we find God-- or God finds us-- through moments that deepen our identity and move us toward change and transformation. A moment of transformation can reverberate through all aspects of one's life, creating a foundation for living one's life fully as a person of integrity, as a member of one's religious community, and as a disciple. Each charism is imbued with language and practices that open one to transformation or conversion of heart. The Franciscan tradition places conversion at the heart of Franciscan identity as noted in the Franciscan Third Order Rule of Life: "With all . . . who wish to serve the Lord, the brothers and sisters of this order are to persevere in true faith and penance. They wish to live this evangelical conversion of life in a spirit of prayer, of poverty, and of humility." 1 Conversion is not a comfortable experience. Nor can it be programmed--"This year I will be converted to It is helpful to reflect on what called us to move out of a conventional life path. 133 70.2 2011 Eichten ¯ Telling Our Story 134 poverty." Typically, conversion comes unbidden, in unex-pected ways that surprise and confound. Ann Ulanov, a Jungian psychologist, says that "being truthful with our-selves can be messy business. [we think] the illusions we have created . . . will be more readily received than our true self.''2 We all have protective armor--which can look like virtue or competence or generosity--designed to hide our wounds and messiness and to keep us safe and protected. The human reality is that the wounds and messiness are often sacred places where our vulnerability and need create a crossing place for the Spirit.3 God will, however, find chinks in our armor and will slip through to unsettle us and to invite us to be changed into true disciples by God's abundant love. In any way of life, one can float on the surface, be carried along by others, and lead a "good" life to all appearances. But floating along does not give one passion and energy. An example. Our leadership team asked the sisters living at the motherhouse to spend time reviewing and reflecting on community--a kind of Community 101 refresher course--as part of a pro-cess of redesigning community living in our newly reno-vated physical space. We asked the sisters to focus on the choice they had made to say "Yes" to community--a Yes not limited by conditions. As we talked about it in small groups, a dear 84-year-old sister said quietly "I don't think I ever made that choice." She had lived her life with a gentle goodness, doing what she was told to do; but increasingly she suffered from low-grade depression and self-doubt. It is all too easy to find a comfortable niche and set-tle for comfort and security. However, settling in leads one, like standing water, to become stagnant and brack-ish. There is little one is able or willing to contribute to Review for Religious the great flow and energy of community life when one fears it will unsettle comfortable patterns of living and ministering. Any one of us could likely point to times when we have avoided,deciding or have opted for safety and comfort rather than for risk. It's not that we aren't involved in community life or engaged in a valued ministry, but rather that we are settling for comfort and for being "good enough" and begin living without zest or passion for life and minis-try. We can easily slip into being unwilling to risk and engage in change that might unsettle. Ron Rohlheiser says that the problem for religious today is not that we are not good people, doing good things. We are. The problem, he says, is that we are not great people. We have settled for giving 909/o of ourselves and have let go of the extra 10% that would give witness to the pas-sion and energy of God alive in and through us.4 When we entered, the assumption was that we wanted to give ourselves 100%. What are we holding back? How can we live more fully every moment of our life? Critical experiences and realizations lead us into moments of transformation and deepening maturity as committed religious women and men. How are those transformative moments still shaping our life responses today? How are we engaging them to create new responses for an unknown future? Claiming our Individual Stories We each have a powerful stoW of how God is alive and active in our lives. What is the stoW of your life and your transformative moments? What are the parts of your stoW that get said, and what remains unsaid? Christina Baldwin says "StoW is both the great revealer and concealer.''5 She goes on to say that "the tension 70.2 2011 Eicbten ¯ Telling Our Story between what is said and what is not said is . . . the dilemma of the human family. It takes courage to tell our stories. We need to believe that our stories will be received and held in respect.''6 Somehow, we have gotten the message that we should be perfect. But we are all too aware of our imperfections. We carry within ourselves negative mes-sages about our worth and our adequacy. We are created as human, finite, vulnerable and fallible people--that is the mystery of Incarnation. What are we to do with our imperfection? Dietrich Bonhoeffer--using the language of sin and sinner (not our most favorite images)--says that the gospel., confronts us with the truth and says that we are great, desperate sinners, but invites us, as the sin-ners we are, to come to God who loves us. God wants us as we are. God does not want anything from us--a sacrifice, a work---but simply wants us as we are. We can hide nothing from God. The masks we wear before others will do us no good before God. God wants to see us as we are, wants to be gracious to us. We do not have to go on lying to ourselves and our brothers and sisters as if we were without sin.7 Bonhoeffer goes on to say that sin isolates us. It "withdraws us from the community. The more isolated a person is, the more destructive will be the power of sin over them. The sinner surrenders, gives up all their evil, gives their heart to God and finds the forgiveness of sin in the fellowship of Jesus Christ and his sister and brother." Sin is a strong word and we avoid using sin language whenever possible. But we know the impact of sin in community when we see isolation, withdrawal from others, or picking and choosing what part of com-munity life we are willing to live.8 Review for Religious Angeles Arrien, in her workshops and various publi-cations, says that a group can only go as far as its weak-est link. And the weakest link, she says, is the person who consciously chooses not to participate. She chal-lenges us to choose to be consciously present in com-munity, not as a prisoner (I have to be here against my will), not as a tourist (I'll sample what's happening and drop in and out as I choose), and not as a sophisticate (I know it all already). Rather, she challengs us to be present as explorers with a spirit of equanimity (a serene presence that enables us to see without judgment), with a willingness to engage in fair self talk (what I say to myself), and with fair witness (saying what I see without judgment or blame).9 Not an easy challenge! Community challenges us to be open to the Spirit alive in and among us, leading us into the adventure and risk of discovering more about ourselves and about others. It challenges us to authentic presence to one another. When we listen to each other's authentic story, Christina Baldwin says, "something sparks between us that makes us smile or cry with recognition--not out of sentimentality, but out of commonality, waking our remembrance that we are each other.'''° While we live in the midst of our stories, we do not yet know the outcome of those stories. We need to keep telling our stories, bringing to consciousness what is happening so we can understand better what our stories mean. Our stories are made up of words and of silent, quiet presence. Contemplative moments alone and as a community help us to listen at a deeper level, help to give shape to the meaning of our stories. Contemplation helps us to know that there is always movement at the deepest level of our lives. We are guided along the course of our lives, whether we are 137 70.2 2011 Eicbten * Telling, Our Story 138 experiencing moments of rest or moments of radical change. Contemplation helps us to trust the source of life and to risk moving around the next bend in our lives toward the unknown. As we live together in community we are invited to share our personal stories and to listen with rever-ence to the stories of our sisters and brothers. This is a sacred charge--to give the gift of oneself and to receive the gift of the other, and, in both, to discover how God is alive and present. Community Stories Our stories are not simply individual stories, Baldwin says: "Individually, we first put our lives into language, and then we act upon what we have said and how we have defined ourselves. Our stories about ourselves become the basis for our identity and the way we hold each other accountable for our individual actions.''~ Our stories are always more than stories about indi-viduals. Our individual stories lead us into relationship. We come together as a community at a given time and place for a reason. Think of the stories communities tell about their foundation as a congregation--of the sig-nificant events that have shaped their collective realities. These stories are the lens through which a community sees reality. Again, Baldwin says that "Collectively, the community., first creates a mythic self-image and his-tory and then acts to fulfill this declaration of place and promise in the world . When our story and our behav-ior are consistent, we relax; when story and behavior are inconsistent, we get tense.''12 If there is a disconnect between our story and our behavior, it generates discomfort and anxiety. "If we cannot make story and action fit," says Baldwin, "we Review for Religious either have to make a new story or change the action.''13 Research shows that when the facts do not match the story, we tend to discard the facts and cling to the story. We opt for denial and blindness rather than face the truth of the facts. Many congregations have stories about themselves as a pioneering group, earthy and engaged in the lives of ordi-nary people. Such stories are cor-roborated by the stories of how sis-ters went beyond - the school and convent to interact with families of our parish schools, or how they cared for homeless men hop-ping the trains during the Depression, or how they estab-lished institutions to provide education and health care. Our ministries and lifestyle, however, have changed from those early pioneering days. We need to examine how our behaviors match our founding story as we live and minister in new ways. If our community story, the lens through which we see reality, is inconsistent with our actions, are we able to talk about it? Or have we agreed that there are certain things we can talk about and certain things we do not talk about, or only talk about in a certain way? Are there only certain people who are acceptable and others who are dismissed? Baldwin calls this a "social trance," the creation of an idealized group story--and perhaps an idealized group membership. "[Our] agreements," says Baldwin, "create a social story," which stresses "how we belong and who belongs. If there is a disconnect between our story and our behavior, it generates discomfort and anxiety. 139 70.2 2011 Eicbten ¯ Telling Our Story 140 Because the desire to fit in is a universal human trait, someone who breaks the trance of social story does so at great risk and, sometimes, great reward.''~4 Gerry Adams, the leader of the Irish Peace Process, insists that "the hardest dialog is not with the perceived enemy; it is with your own group.''~s Going beyond the accepted limits of our like-mindedness to ask the uncomfortable questions or to name the unpleasant reality with those to whom we have committed ourselves is scary. Standing up for the "other" puts us at risk of being criticized for being "disloyal" and of being symbolically or actually cast out and lumped with the other as an "outsider." The stories that we need to tell are not stories, from the past but, rather, today's stories, stories that help us know who we are. We are ourselves as individuals and we are each other. Talking about who we are today opens us to the promise of our future. Stories about large novitiate classes and of early years in institutional ministry are stories that have shaped and bonded those who experienced them. However, there are many in our congregations whose experiences are quite differ-ent (small entrance classes, individual ministries). Yet the old stories are often the ones thai get told and retold. Many did not have the experience of growing up when the community members lived and worked together in an institutional ministry. How do their sto-ries get told, and how well do we listen to them? What is the impact of their stories on our current communal and ministerial reality? Is the storytelling we do some-thing that enables us to move into discussion? Is it something that gives energy and hope for the present and the future? If we are to build a future together, we need to be together, knowing and embracing the truth of who we Review for Rdigiot~ are. We have an abundance of gifts and talents, and we need to trust that "there is enough and that we are enough.''~6 If we trust our sufficiency--what is inside each of us--we can act on it. While it would be good to have additional members, delaying decisions until more members appear is one more way of saying we are defi-cient or inadequate. It is not about having more bodies; having the heart and the willingness to let go and risk is what will make a difference. Tasks of Dialogical Communion The first task is to claim the gift of incarnation. Colleen Mallon 0P speaks of a new way of being disci-ples that might enliven our hope and deepen our aware-ness of God's loving grasp of our lives. She starts with the God-human relationship, which gifts us with God's love and goodness, which "points and directs us towards the places where mercy, peace, justice and reconciliation ache to be reaiized.''~7 The Incarnation acknowledges "the tension between transcendence and immanence; [Incarnation] is, in fact, to claim that tension is integral to our graced existence in this world, in these bodies, at this time in history," she says. "Our hope does not lie in some perfect world . . . but in our unflinching reli-ance on the gift of the Spirit as we humbly and confi-dently put our freedom at the service of the Love that has called us into existence." We are called into discipleship by our God for more than ourselves. Our charism is not about personal fulfill-ment, but about extending the loving, healing presence of God into our world. We are women and men called into discipleship--a discipleship that is sorely needed in our world. Mallon says that seeing our "discipleship as gift and task in a global world demands., a new asceti- 141 70.2 2011 Eicbten ¯ Telling Our Story 142 cism that curbs our penchant to overindulge in com-munities of like mindedness, that calls us to be different from narrowly framed groups around us," communities that protect us and keep us safe. The second task, Mallon says, is the hard task of dialogical communion, an asceticism that challenges us to "attend to how the Spirit continues to communicate God's life in and through our historical unity, a unity that is more than mere uniformity." Hunkering down into an enclave of uniformity and caution, into preserving our-selves in a terribly divided global world is a movement from discipleship toward stagnation and death. To build authentic relationships, we need to talk to each other. We need to go beyond our judgments and preconceived notions of the other, we need to speak and listen together, and in so doing find the source of unity deep within us. God has made us with diverse charac-teristics. If we are to listen and talk with each other, we need to start by accepting that people are different. Our religious communities are made up of women and men of varying ages and of differing cultures and mindsets. God has called u~ to come together in community to witness to a unity that is possible. In the diversity of our religious community, we have the opportunity to give witness of an "actual, historical community struggling to hold and engage the truths emerging from diverse God experiences." It is not an easy task to stay in communion. We have personal divi-sions, resentments, and grudges from past hurts. We hold different views of church and politics. And we get tired of the struggle and slip into weariness or apathy and find ourselves saying "I've done my share. Let someone else do it"--whatever "it" is: leadership, rec-onciliation, reaching out to the poor. We are invited to Review for Religious widen our tents to welcome the other, to allow them to be present as they are, and to engage with them with respect. This cannot happen without the acceptance of deep diversity and a deep curiosity about the other and about one's own response to the other. The third task is for each of us to cultivate skills and disciplines for dialog. The foundation for this task is the realization that God has created each one of us as beloved contributors to the building up of God's community on earth: everyone has a bit of wisdom to contribute. There are some basic human skills and dis-ciplines needed to honor diversity and to make space for the other.~8 ¯ Choose to be present with curiosity and open-ness to learning. ¯ Be aware of when you absent yourself. ¯ Track what is happening to you when you get defensive or resistant, when you move into blame, judgment, or negativity. ¯ Take responsibility for finding value in yourself and the other. ¯ Take seriously your ability to respond from your authentic self. ¯ Speak directly and speak for yourself use "I" language and avoid third-person statements ("They say." "The sisters want.") or behind-the-scenes networking and gossip. ¯ Be curious about the other, especially those with whom you may not agree or even understand. ¯ Respect the confidentiality of others. What gets said in the group stays in the group. The challenge of dialogical communion lies before us. We are invited to share our stories and to listen with love and respect to the stories of our sisters and broth- 1143 70.2 2011 Eicbten ¯ Telling Our Story 144] ers. To do that, we need to be aware of what is at the heart of our life and work. We need to challenge our-selves to risk sharing at that level with our sisters and brothers. In order to do that, we need to reflect on what we need to let go of to make space for the others. And we need to reflect on what we need from each other and what we can give to each other. Dialogical communion is a discipline that invites us to listen and share with one another, to "suspend our judgments so as to make space for each other and, in the very act of 'making space' encounter the God who does more in us and with us than we can ask or imagine.''19 St. Clare said it well when she admonished her sisters to "always be lovers of God and your souls and the souls of your sisters, and always be eager to observe what you have promised the Lord.''2° Colleen Mallon ends her article with the following challenge, and I can say it no better: "Hope lies in our courageous and sober confidence in the Spirit's power to bring all that is God's to fullness. In the spaces where fragile human hearts meet the Love and Truth that alone overcomes all alienation, there is the hope for a different kind of history, a different kind of humanity. The gift inspires the task. Shall we take up the task?''~1 Notes ~ Rule of the Third Order Regular of St. Francis, Chapter 1:2. 2 Margie King Saphier, Reflection on "Prayer as Primary Speech" quoting Ann Ulanov and Barry Ulanov (May 2008) at First Parish in Concord Unitarian Universalist Church, C. oncord, Massachusetts. Full text available at http://www.firstparish.org/cms/sermons/774- prayer-as-primary-speech. 3 Rev. Ann B. Ulanov, "Uncertain Boundaries, Dangerous Crossings," Plenary Address at 29th Annual Convention of the Review for Religious American Association of Pastoral Counselors, May, 1992, Charlotte, North Carolina. The full article can be found in Spiritual Aspects of Clinical Work (Daimon 2004) Chapter 9. 4 Ronald Rolheiser OMI, Presentation at National Religious Vocation Conference (September 2006). 5 Christina Baldwin, Storycatcher: Making Sense of Our Lives through the Power and Practice of Story, (Novato, California: New World Library, 2005), p. 17. 6 Ibid., p. 18. 7 Dietrich Bonhoeffer, adapted from Life Together (Harper & Row, 1954), pp. 110-111. s Ibid. 9 Angeles Arrien, from notes taken at a Thresholds of Collective Wisdom workshop, Sausalito, California. ,0 Baldwin, p. 24. ,i Baldwin, p. 78. 12 Ibid. 13 Ibid. ,4 Ibid., p. 83. 15 Colleen Mary Mallon OP, "Reclaiming Hope, Recovering Dialog," Review for Religious 66, no. 1 (January-March 2007): 51. 16 Lynne Twist, The Soul of Money, Reclaiming the Wealth of Our Inner Resources. (New York: W.W. Norton & Company, 2003), p. 74. 17 Mallon, pp. 40-57. Realizing many would not have read her article, and finding her thoughts very helpful, I rearranged and high-lighted portions of her article for this presentation. There are direct quotes intermixed with my comments. is Angeles Arrien, adapted from notes on Protocols for Collective Work taken at a Thresholds of Collective Wisdom workshop, Sausalito, California. ,9 Mallon, p. 54. 20 Regis Armstrong OFMCap Clare of Assisi: The Lady. (New York: New City Press, 2006), p. 67. 2, Mallon, p. 54. 70.2 2011 ignatian insight EDWARD McCORMACK Approaching the Principle and Foundation from St. Ignatius's Mystical Worldview The Principle and Foundation is one of the most important and perplexing parts of Ignatius of Loyola's Spiritual Exercises. The Official Directory of 1599 acknowledged its importance, stating it is "the groundwork of the whole moral and spiritual edifice.'" Located at the beginning of the First Week of the Exercises, the Foundation summarizes impor-tant themes found throughout the Exercises. It highlights God's creative activity, the end for which human beings are created, and the importance of indifference. Nevertheless, it poses problems for a guide because no indi-cation is given in the Exercises as to how the 146 Edward McCormack is an assistant professor of Christian spirituality and chair of the Christian Spirituality Department at Washington Theological Union. He may be addressed at 6896 Laurel Street; Washington, DC 20012. Review for Religious retreatant should use the Foundation. It is not called a meditation, a contemplation, or a consideration. Nor does Ignatius give any instructions to the guide as to how it should be used. So what is it and how is it to be used? The practice of the Exercises changed a good deal between Ignatius's death in 1556 and the publication of the Official Directory of 1599. According to Ignacio Iparraguire, the Exercises went through a real decline during this time)Jesuits began to debate how to use the Foundation when directing the Exercises. Iparraguire identified two trends emerging in the use of the Foundation by the 1570s. One trend, represented by Juan Polanco, Ignatius's secretary, focused on the rela-tionship between Christ and the retreatant which elic-ited experiences of gratitude, great desires, and active indifference. This approach went back to Ignatius's prac-tice of talking with the retreatant about the faith vision summarized in the Foundation in order to evoke a set of preparatory experiences. The other trend, represented by Juan Miron, treated the Foundation as a theory and idea.3 According to Iparraguire, Juan Miron's approach won out by making its way into the Official Directory of 1599.4 As a result, the approach to the Foundation taken by Ignatius and Polanc0 was neglected for almost four hundred years in favor of a heavily rational and theoretical approach. Certainly Ignatius's terse and scholastic writing style is par@ the reason people approached the Foundation in this way. It reads as follows: The human person is created to praise, rever-ence and serve God our Lord, and by so doing save his or her soul; and it is for the human per-son that the other things on the face of the earth 147 70.2 2011 McCormack ¯ Approaching the Principle and Foundation are created, as helps to the pursuit of this end. It follows from this that the person has to use these things in so far as they help towards this end, and to be free of them in so far as they stand in the way of it. To attain this, we need to make ourselves indiffer-ent towards all created things, provided the matter is subject to our free choice and there is no prohibition. Thus for our part we should not want health more than sickness, wealth more than poverty, fame more than disgrace, a long life more than a short one--and so with everything else; desiring and choosing only what conduces more to the end for which we are created,s Beginning in the seventeenth century the Exercises were treated as an ascetical handbook or school of per-fection. This approach continued through much of the twentieth century. In this context, great stress was placed on the human activity of indifference. After the resto-ration of the Society of Jesus in 1814, the Foundation was treated as a set of philosophical truth claims or as a statement of God's plan. An illustration of this approach comes from EX. McMenamy SJ, who served as tertian director in Cleveland from 1929 to 1949: First Principle and Foundation. A principle is a begin-ning for the mind, and a foundation is a beginning for the will. With this first principle we begin all our reasoning about human life. The truth about human life can be deduced from it; error cannot, but must have another beginning. Upon the same principle the will builds its moral life as upon a foundation. What is good fits upon it; what is bad does not, but must have another foundation. By means of this first principle the mind and will get a start in the process of discov-ering the secret of life--what is true in life, what is good in life. And at the very start they must find God.6 Notice how often the words "mind," "reasoning," and "truth" appear in McMenamy's reading of the Review for Religious Foundation. While offering clear and confident claims, this approach will not evoke an experience of God's creative love; nor will it generate the powerful desires that move people to serve Christ. This "rationalistic" approach represented by McMenamy's has lost touch with Igntatius's mystical experiences at Manresa that lie behind the words of the Foundation and give them their power. Two important twentieth-century commentators on the Exercises have suggested different ways to recover Ignatius's use of the Foundation. Gilles Cusson con-sidered the Principle and Foundation as a process the retreatant undergoes during the preparation period. He suggests "the Foundation will be, first of all, the occasion of initiating the exercitant into an inspiring pe.rspective, a vision of the whole--one which includes the chief ele-ments of Christian faith, though not in detail.''7 Cusson thinks the faith vision presented by the Foundation goes back to what Ignatius learned at Manresa, especially at the Cardoner River.~ Joseph Tetlow is critical of this approach. For him, the Foundation is not an "occasion" but an experience. Moreover, Tetlow thinks "vision" is not the appropriate metaphor for understanding the process of the Foundation. Instead, he suggests "hear-ing" as the appropriate metaphor because hearing inter-nalizes rather than objectifies an experience.9 According to Tetlow, the Principle and Foundation summarizes a set of religious experiences one undergoes during the preparatory period, the most important of which is the experience of God creating us from moment to moment.10 Although Cusson and Tetlow disagree about the role of the Foundation in the Exercises, they do agree in a number of important ways. Both authors think the 149 70.2 2011 McCormack ¯ Approaching the Principle and Foundation Foundation harkens back to Ignatius's mystical experi-ences at Manresa and the Cardoner River.~l Although Cusson emphasizes the faith vision of the Foundation, he believes it was meant to evoke a religious experi-ence characterized by the desire to make the Exercises and a disposition of generosity toward God.12 Likewise, Tetlow's emphasis on religious experience does not exclude the recognition that the Foundation is a "mini-directory that gives the substance and the procedure for spiritual conversation during the years, months, or at least days leading up to the full Exercises.''13 It is my contention that both dimensions of the Foundation described by Cusson and Tetlow must be emphasized by directors of the Exercises today. Recent research indicates that emerging adult Christians lack a robust understanding of the Christian worldview pre-sumed by the Exercises, and have had limited experi-ences of God the Creator's love.~4 Building on the insights of Cusson and Tetlow, I will set the Foundation within the context of Ignatius's mystical experience at Manresa and the resulting worldview in order to bet-ter understand the role the Foundation plays in the Exercises, particularly with regard to the prepara-tory period. Such an approach will bring to life the faith vision and religious experience that lay behind the concise and academic language of the Principle and Foundation.~s I will then describe the faith vision embedded in the Foundation and the religious experi-ences it summarizes, both of which will provide direc-tion as to the nature of the preparatory period. Ignatius's Spiritual Awakening The Christian faith vision and religious experience summarized by the Foundation originated from the spiri- Review for Religious tual awakening and personal transformation that Ignatius of Loyola underwent between May 1521 and February 1523. These events took place at the Loyola family home and the little town of Manresa in northern Spain. Ignatius was born in 1491 into a proud, power-ful, and important family from the Basque region of Northern Spain. In 1509 at the age of 15, he began to work in the castle of Juan Velfisquez de Cuellar, the high treasurer of Castile where he received training as a courtier. In 1518, he became a member of the house-hold of the Duke of Najera where he spent three years as a gentleman of the court. Many years later Ignatius summarized his life in the courts of Spain with these words: "up to the age of twenty-six he was a man given to the vanities of the world; and what he enjoyed most was warlike sport, with a great and foolish desire to win fame."16 Ignatius's spiritual awakening began in May 1521 after sustaining a life-threatening leg injury defend-ing a castle against the French in Pamplona. He spent the next nine months recuperating at the Loyola fam-ily home. After recovering from a number of grueling surgeries, Ignatius spent his days from August 1521 through February 1522, dreaming of returning to his old life in the courts, reading the lives of the saints and a life of Christ. He soon found himself wrestling with two contradictory visions of his future life. At times he imagined himself returning to his old life as a courtier, while at other times he considered becoming a poor pil-grim devoted to Christ. By February 1522, he decided to give up his career as a courtier, embark on a pil-grimage to Jerusalem, and imitate the saints by doing penance for his past life. On the way to Jerusalem via Barcelona he stopped by the little town of Manresa, 151 70.2 2011 McCormack ¯ Approaching the Principle and Foundation where he ended up spending eleven months from May 1522 through February 1523. It was at Manresa that the Lord transformed Ignatius from an imitator of the saints to a pilgrim devoted to the mission of the Lord. Ignatius's Spiritual Transformation During his stay at Manresa, the Lord transformed Ignatius through a series of mystical experiences into a new person with a new mind and a new vision of reality. These mystical experiences began one day while Ignatius was saying the office of our Lady on the steps of a local monastery in Manresa. Suddenly he found himself drawn into the mystery of the Trinity at work in the world. "His understanding began to be elevated so that he saw the most Holy Trinity in the form of three musical keys." "As a result, the effect has remained with him throughout his life of experiencing great devotion while praying to the Most Holy Trinity.''~7 Through this experience and others to follow, he claimed, "I beheld, sensed within myself, and penetrated in spirit all the mysteries of the Christian faith.''~s What mysteries? Ignatius describes being given the gift of experiencing the Triune mystery creating all things. Once, the manner in which God created the world was presented to his understanding with great spiritual joy. He seemed to see something white, from which rays were coming, and God made light from this.19 This mystical experience brought to full bloom a sensitivity to God's generosity that first emerged at Loyola when Ignatius would "gaze at the stars and sky [and] find himself moved by a great impulse to serve the Lord.''2° This experience taught Ignatius that all cre-ation comes streaming toward us from the Triune God. Ignatius also learned that the Trinity does not dwell Review for Religious apart from creation but dwells in all creatures, giving them existence and all the gifts their nature requires. No longer was God's creation of the universe an event in the past. Ignatius now understood that God's ever-flowing love cre-ates all things from moment to moment. For the rest of his life, he found himself moved to praise and reverence God as the source of all good found in creation. Ignatius's sensitivity to the gift character of all reality is reflected in an event described by his companion Jerome Nadal: [When Ignatius was] lifted up by anything what-soever, as happened, for example, one day when I was with him in the garden, and look-ing at the leaf of an orange tree, he went into a lofty, elevated discourse about the Trinity.2~ Ignatius understood that God's ever-flowing love creates all things from moment to moment. Throughout the rest of his life, Ignatius found him-self moved by creation to reverence God, as is evidenced by this episode recounted by Diego Lainez when he lived at the Jesuit house in Rome: At night he would go up on the roof of the house, with the sky there above him. He would sit there quietly, absolutely quietly. He would take his hat off and look up for a long time at the sky. Then he would fall on his knees bowing profoundly to God. Then he would sit on a little bench because the weakness of his body did not allow him to take any other position. He would stay there bareheaded and without moving. And the tears would begin to flow down his cheeks like a stream, but so qui- 70.2 2011 McCormack ¯ Approaching the Prindple and Foundation lY4] etly and so gently that you heard not a sob nor a sigh nor the least possible movement of his body.22 Ignatius was also given to penetrate in spirit the mysteries of Christ's presence in the Eucharist and the Incarnation. One day in this town while he was hearing Mass in the church of the monastery mentioned above, at the elevation of the Body of the Lord, he saw with interior eyes something like white rays coming from above . . . what he saw clearly with his understanding was how Jesus Christ our Lord was there, in that Most Holy Sacrament.23 "Often and for a long time, while at prayer, he saw with interior eyes the humanity of Christ.''24 These two experiences transformed Ignatius's under-standing of the Incarnation from an event in the distant past into the present activity of the risen Jesus in our world and in our lives. Ignatius realized that the Jesus who announced and enacted a kingdom movement in Galilee by gathering disciples, exorcising demons, and healing the sick was actively laboring in our world today to free the world from sin and bring about God's king-dom. 2s It was the crucified and risen Lord who rescued Ignatius from the "vanities of the world" and the fool-ish desire to gain fame. It was this same Lord Jesus who transformed him into a man with a new mind and new eyes. Ignatius felt called by the "divine Majesty" to be his companion and to cooperate with his worldwide mission. After these experiences, Ignatius's one desire was to live as an active companion of Jesus and do his will in every situation. This one desire was fulfilled years later as he and his companions Diego Lainez and Pierre Favre made their Way to Rome to offer their services to the pope. Ignatius had spent the previous year pre- Review for Religious paring to say his first Mass and asking Mary to place him next to her Son. During this time he experienced spiritual visions and supernatural experiences like those at Manresa. Stopping to pray at a chapel in the village of La Storta outside of Rome, he "experienced such a change in his soul and saw so clearly that God the Father placed him with Christ his son that he would not dare to doubt it.''26 Ignatius told Diego Lainez it seemed he could "see Christ with his cross on his shoulder and together with him the Father, who was telling him, 'I want you to serve us.'''27 What happened to Ignatius because of these mysti-cal illuminations? He tells us they "left his understand-ing so very enlightened that he felt as if he were a new man with another mind." "The enlightenment was so great that all things seemed to him altogether new.''28 It seemed that the Triune God invaded Ignatius's con-sciousness and restructured it so that from then on he perceived himself and the world from God's point of view. This was the source of his energy and life vision, and the real power behind his spirituality. A Trinitarian Worldview These mystical experiences led Ignatius to develop a trinitarian worldview that is the basis for the Spiritual Exercises.29 Let mesummarize the main features of his worldview. First, Ignatius viewed all creation com-ing from the Triune God and moving toward commu-nion with the Trinity. There is a dynamic movement at work in his worldview that begins with the coming of all people and all creatures in the entire universe from the Triune God, who is the one source of all good. As Creator, God is not just the source of all things but dwells in all creatures and continually creates them from 70.2 2011 McCormack ¯ Approaching the Principle and Foundation The vocation of all humanity is to cooperate with Christ's mission to heal and renew the world. moment to moment. Secondly, Ignatius believed that God's beautiful world is under attack by personal and social forces that seek to deface and destroy this world, especially humanity. The term Ignatius used for these forces was "the enemy of our human nature," which represents all the anti-creation and anti-human forces in our world. At the cen-ter of Ignatius's world-view is the crucified and risen Christ who labors in our world and in our lives through the Holy Spirit to rescue all humanity and cre-ation from the enemy, while bringing about God's new creation. In this context, the vocation of all humanity is to cooper-ate with Christ's mission to heal and renew the world. We are to make ourselves perfect instruments of God's grace and co-laborers in the sublime work of lead-ing God's creatures back to him as their supreme end. Unfortunately, human beings live out their vocation in the midst of the battle between Christ and the enemy of human nature. Mthough we are called by Christ to be a new creation and share in his mission, we are still infected by the sin of the world, which means our lives are in constant need of reform. The Faith Vision of the Foundation In the light of our study of Ignadus's mystical world-view, we are now in a position to draw out the implicit faith vision contained in the Foundation. The faith vision of the Foun&tion focuses on God the Creator, Review for Religious human beings, and the saving mission of Christ echoing key features of Ignatius's worldview. The activity of God the Creator plays an impor-tant role in the faith vision of the Foundation. This dimension of the Foundation deserves more atten-tion since commentators tend to focus on the vision of humanity presented by the Foundation with no men-tion of God's creation as a setting within which human beings know and serve Christ. The original Spanish text makes reference to God's creative activity five dif-ferent times.3° A careful reading of the Foundation in the light of Ignatius's worldview shows that every men-tion of humanity contains an implicit reference to the activity of God the Creator. For instance, the claim that "human beings are created to praise, reverence, and serve God" assumes God is creating humanity, the cosmos and all "other things on the face of the earth." It is God the Creator who fashions human beings with a purpose in mind. What motivates human beings to praise, reverence, and serve God is the abundantly gen-erous activity of God the Creator which moves human beings to gratitude and love of God. Finally, human beings are able to pursue the end for which they are created because the Creator God has given humanity all "other things on the face of the earth" as gifts with which to steward the garden.31 The Foundation presents humanity's role in creation in terms of three relationships. Our most fundamental relationship is to God the Creator, who is the source of all the good we have received throughout our lives. Praise, reverence, and service are the defining charac-teristics of our relationship to God the Creator. God deserves praise because of God's generosity, reverence because of God's holiness, and service because we are 70.2 2011 McCormack ¯ Approaching the Prindple and Foundation "To save ourselves" is Ignatian shorthand for our cooperation with the mission of the risen Lord, called to reflect God's generosity to us in our care of others. The Foundation also acknowledges our com-plicated relationship with other human beings and the rest of creation when it challenges us to be indifferent in the face of a choice between goods. Finally, human beings find meaning in life by pursing the end for which they were created. Implied here and in Ignatius's refer-ence to "Our Creator and Lord" is our relationship with Christ. He is our Creator and Lord; he is the source of our salvation whose mission is the "end for which we are created.''32 Just as God the Creator is missing from most dis-cussions of the Foundation, Christ's role in the faith vision of the Foundation has also been neglected. The reason for this is that while God and humanity are explicitly mentioned in the Foundation, Christ is not. Nevertheless, phrases such as "saving his soul," "the end for which we are cre-ated," "indifference," and "the magis" only make sense within the saving work of Jesus Christ. "The end for which we were created" is nothing less than the mission of the risen Christ. "To save ourselves" is Ignatian shorthand for our cooperation with the mission, of the risen Lord, not some Pelagian approach to Christianity. The practice of praising and reverencing God for all we have received motivates us to cooperate with Christ in service to the Father.33 "To make ourselves indifferent" is the Spirit-empowered free-dom to find and do the will of Christ, which anticipates Review for Religious the Election. The ability to "desire and choose what is more conducive to our end" is only possible because we know Christ and the power of the Holy Spirit. Religious Experience and the Foundation As we mentioned above, Joseph Tetlow argued that the Foundation summarizes a set of religious experi-ences one undergoes during the preparatory period. Our study of the faith vision contained in the Foundation suggests that the Foundation summarizes two different types of religious experience. The first type is an experience of God the Creator's personal love for us. The vision of God's creative activ-ity contained in the Foundation invites us to experience God's generous love in the beauty of all creation and in all the good we have been given throughout our lives. The common practice of praying over one's life story in a spirit of gratitude fosters this experience in the fol-lowing way. As we remember the gifts we have been given, we discover how much God has been involved in our lives and has loved us, which in turn generates a profound sense of gratitude and love for God. We remember people who cared for us and some of the wonderful events in our lives. We also recall being car-ried through difficult times and pulled out of chaotic situations into places of stability and peace. We may remember dark times when we discovered meaning in events that seemed meaningless. Prayer experiences like this can transform the many people and events in our lives from something we took for granted into events of gift and mystery, thereby changing how we understand our lives. The discovery of the gift character of one's life signals the emergence of a new level of consciousness in which we begin to experience all good things com- 70.2 2011 McCormack ¯ Approaching the Principle and Foundation ing from the Triune God. We begin to recognize that the many gifts we have received were vehicles through which God has loved us throughout our lives. A mount-ing sense of gratitude and praise transforms experiences remembered into an experience of the boundless gener-osity and love of God the Creator in the here and now. The Holy Spirit, who enabled us to discover God's love in our past, fills us with gratitude and now impels us to praise, reverence, and serve God in the present. The second type of religious experience comes in the form of a set of challenging reflections that antici-pate the First Week of the Exercises.34 For instance, the claim that "human beings are created to praise, reverence, and serve God" raises the following ques-tions. Do I praise and reverence God? Have I spent my life serving God? If not, then who or what have I been serving throughout my life? Why do I not feel moved to praise God? Other equally disturbing ques-tions may arise as I reflect on the claim that all other things are created as helps to the end for which I was created. How have I treated the people, gifts, and expe-riences God has given me? Have I used them in the service of God? Do I see them as gifts or as a means to get my needs met? Perhaps the strongest challenge posed by the Foundation comes from the call to be indifferent in our use of creatures. Do I desire God's will above my own comfort and reputation? Am I open to finding God not just when I am healthy, wealthy, and respected, but when I am sick, poor, and humili-ated? The Foundation emphasizes that human beings are created for a purpose and therefore should desire and choose what is more conducive to that end. This raises the problem of choosing from among the many ways one can serve God. How can I know what is the Review for Religious life direction I should choose, recognizing how easily one can be deceived in this matter? How can I discover Christ's desire for me amongst my many desires? These challenging reflections may move a person to surrender to God, once again preparing the person for the rest of the Exercises.3s Preparatory Period Our study of the Foundation raises questions about our contemporary approach to the preparatory phase of the Exercises. Contemporary commentators and authors of directories are divided over what to emphasize during this period. For instance, Gilles Cusson, John Futrell, and Michael Ivens all insist on the importance of promoting the faith vision of the Foundation.36 John English, John Veltri, and Joseph Tetlow tend to emphasize the impor-tance of religious experience.37 My suggestion is that our approach to the preparatory period must be based on our understanding of Ignatius's mystical worldview, especially as it illuminates the faith vision and religious experiences summarized in the Foundation. During the preparatory period the guide should discuss with the retreatant the faith vision behind the Exercises while offering mate-rial for prayer that corresponds to the two types of reli-gious experiences summarized by dae Foundation. This approach, which links understanding with experience, is consistent with the dialectical approach used by Ignatius through the rest of the Exercises. The time to discuss this worldview is when the guide offers points for prayer. The themes for prayer and the scripture passages selected must foster an experience of the activity and of God the Creator's love in the retreatant's life. Recent research on the faith life of young adult Catholics demonstrates how important this approach is for people making the :161 70.2 2011 McCormack ¯ Approaching the Prindple and Foundation 1.621 Exercises today. We are learning that this population has little knowledge of the Catholic worldview and little experience of the love and generosity of God the Creator. Before proceeding to the First Week of the Exercises, a guide must be sure a retreatant who fits this demo-graphic has a sufficient understanding of the worldview of the Exercises and some personal experience of the gift character of reality and God's love for them. Certainly some retreatants may require a prolonged discussion of the Christian worldview, while others may require more experiences of the love of God the Creator. Conclusion I have tried to crack open up the dense, academic language of the Foundation by presenting Ignatius's mystical experiences and worldview as the context for understanding the Foundation. Set within that context, one can understand the powerful faith vision contained in the Foundation and the religious experience it evokes. Understanding this twofold nature of the Foundation provides a warrant for a robust approach to the prepa-ratory period that includes discussion of our Catholic faith-vision and prayer experiences that lead a person into the boundless love God the Creator has for us and all creatures. Notes 1 Official Directory of 1599 translated and edited by Martin Pahner SJ in On Giving the Spiritual Exercises: The Early Jesuit Manuscript Directories and the Official Directory of 1599 (St. Louis: The Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1996), p. 311. 2 Ignacio Iparraguire, Hi~toria de los Ejercicios de San lg~mcio Volume 2 (Rome: Institutum HistoricumS.I., 1955), pp. 321-413. 3Joseph Tetlow SJ, "The Fundamentum: Creation in the Principle and Foundation," Studies in Jesuit Spirituality 21/4 (September, Review for Religious 1989): p. 37. 4 My own reading of the Official Directory of 1599 indicates that both approaches are held in tension in the directory. That said, in the subsequent history of the Foundation, Miron's approach does win out. s I am using the Michael Ivens translation in Understanding the Spiritual Exercises (Herefordshire: Gracewing, 1998), p. 29. 6 Francis Xavier McMenamy SJ, Eight-Day Retreat, Based on the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius, ed. William J. Grace sJ (Milwaukee: The Bruce Publishing Company, 1959), p. 8. 7 Gilles Cusson SJ, Biblical Theology and the Spiritual Exercises, trans. Mary Angela Roduit RC and George Ganss SJ, (St. Louis: The Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1988), p. 50. 8 Ibid., p. 51. 9 Tetlow, p. 7. ,0Ibid. '~ Tetlow, p. 49; Cusson, p. 51. ~2 Cusson, pp. 50-51. L3 Tetlow, p. 51. ~4 Christian Smith and Patricia Snell, Souls in Transition: The Religious and Spiritual Lives of Emerging Adults (New York: Oxford University Press, 2009), pp. 118-132, 154-164. is Ivens, p. 27. ~6 Ignatius of Loyola, Autobiography (trans. Parmananda Divarkar sJ) in Ignatius of Loyola: Spiritual Exercises and Selected Works, ed. George Ganss SJ (New York: Paulist Press, 1991), p. 68. (Hereafter Autobiography) ~7 Autobiography, p. 79. 18 Fontes Narrativi. MHSI, MI Series 2, 123. Quoted in Hugo Rahner, Ignatius the Theologian. Translated by Michael Barry (San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 1990), p. 5. 19 Ibid., p. 80. 20 Ibid., p. 72. 2, Jerome Nadal, Platicas de espirituales del p. jeronimo Nadal, S.I., en Coimbra, 1561, edited by Miguel Nicolau sJ, 71, quoted in Joseph Conwell, Contemplation in Action: A Study in Ignatian Prayer, (Spokane: Gonzaga University Press, 1957), p. 30. ~2 Fontes Narrativi. MHSI, MI Series 4, 746-749 quoted in William Meissner SJ, Ignatius of Loyola: The Psychology of a Saint (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1992), p. 280. 163 70.2 2011 McCormack ¯ Approaching the Principle and Foundation Autobiography, p. 80. Ibid. 2s Charles J. Jackson SJ, "Something That Happened to Me at Manresa: The Mystical Origin of the Ignatian Charism," Studies in the Spirituality of Jesuits 38/2 (Summer, 2006): 7-18. 26 Autobiography, p. 96. 27 Cited in Pedro Arrupe SJ, "The Trinitarian Inspiration of the Ignatian Charism." Studies in Jesuit Spirituality 33/3 (May, 2001): p. 19. 28 Autobiography, p. 81. 29 See Cusson, pp. 51-76. 30In the Spanish Autograph the word criado or criadas appears five times, making the activity of God more obvious than in the English translations. 31 The implicit theology of creation contained in the Foundation becomes explicit in the Contemplatio, thereby illuminating and con-firming the implicit context of the Foundation. 32 Cusson, pp. 54758. 33 This is also the dynamic implied by the grace of the Contemplatio. 34 The idea of the Foundation being a challenge goes back to a suggestion made by Ignatius to Juan Alonso de Vitoria. See Palmer, p. 21. 35 Ibid. In Vitoria's account Ignatius claims "the Foundation" is surrender to God. 36 Ivens, p. 27; Cusson, pp. 47-52; John Futrell SJ and Marian Cowan CSJ, The Spiritual Exercises of St. lgnatius of Loyola: A Handbook for Directors (Le Jacq Publishing, Inc., 1981), pp. 23-25. 37 Tetlow, 7-8; John Veltri SJ, Orientations Volume I, pp. 46-48; John English SJ, Spiritual Freedom (Chicago: Loyola University Press, 1995), pp. 26-27. Review for Religious RICHARD J. HAUSER Discerning the Spirit: A Personal Journey Eoach summer I teach the course on discernment f spirits in Creighton University's graduate program in Christian Spirituality. I am always surprised to discover that most of the students have never had any formal education in the discernment of spirits. This is even more astounding since our students already have good theological backgrounds and many are pastoral ministers. Recently I gave presentations on discernment of spirits to two large groups of priests. I was surprised to learn that the majority in each group had never received any formal instruction on discernment. And I have to confess that I myself was unfamiliar with discernment of spirits until I was thirty-five years Richard J. Hauser SJ is professor of theology and director of the masters program in Christian Spirituality at Creighton University in Omaha, Nebraska. His address is Creighton University Jesuit Community; 2500 California Plaza; Omaha, Nebraska 68178. 70.2 2011 Hauser ¯ Discerning Spirit old--even though I had been through the entire Jesuit formation process and held a licentiate and doctorate in theology. Why has it taken so long for many of us to grasp this discipline, a discipline as central to spirituality as personal prayer is? I believe that the root of the inability to grasp dis-cernment of spirits can be traced back to the inability to appropriate personally the gift of the Holy Spirit given at Pentecost: "You must reform and be baptized, each one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ, that your sins may be forgiven: then you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit" (Acts 2:38). Though we acknowledge intel-lectually that we have indeed received the gift of the Spirit at baptism, we have not learned the skill of rec-ognizing (discerning) when the Spirit is moving within our hearts. What inhibits our ability to recognize the Spirit's presence in daily life? The following is a partial list of theological and cultural assumptions affecting our Western consciousness and blocking the ability to dis-cern the Spirit. While these assumptions have been more dominant in the past, in my observation they con-tinue to affect our consciousness today. Further, they are so foundational that until we articulate them we are not even aware of how they affect our ability to discern the Spirit. I am aware that these descriptions are over-simplifications. Theological Assumptions We have an inadequate and incomplete image of God. We imagine God as totally transcendent but have no understanding of God as also immanent: God is "out there." This God, who may indeed be a loving God-- Review for Religious rather than a punitive Ruler-Judge--gives us directives on how to live our lives on earth fully. These directives flow from Jesus, church teaching, and, for some, from the rules of their religious order or institute (for me, the Society of Jesus). Our role is to follow God's will by following God's com-mandments. But since God is "out there," following God's will depends totally on our own initiative, with no help from God. We do indeed believe intellectu-ally that God is with us, but we really do not know how to identify that pres-ence in our lives--other than recognizing the special presence of Jesus after receiving Holy Communion. We have an inadequate understanding of human nature. Many of us see human nature as basically sin-ful and untrustworthy because of original sin. Freud's description of the self seems to dominate our under-standing. The self is basically sinful and is driven by instinctual desires to gratify personal needs, with no regard for God or others. This understanding resonates with our experience because it acknowledges the broken-ness of human nature due to original sin. Consequently since the self is basically self-centered and unconcerned with loving God and others, its inner promptings can-not be trusted. Therefore we are directed to live our lives in keeping with the external directives God gives through scripture, the church, and our religious groups. We have an inadequate understanding of holiness. Holiness is concerned primarily with obedience to God's will as known through scripture, church teaching, and We have an inadequate understanding of human nature and holiness. 167 70.2 2011 Hauser ¯ Discerning Spirit the rules of our religious groups. To the degree we are faithful in observing these directives, we are holy. I recall the mantra used throughout my Jesuit formation period: "You keep the Rules, and the Rules will keep you." Again, since we think of God as totally transcendent, we assume that obedience to God's will flows totally from our efforts, with no help from God. We identify holi-ness and external compliance with religious obligations, giving little consideration to the attitudes underlying the performance of those obligations. Additional misunderstandings regarding sanctify-ing grace and redemption exacerbate the problem. If pushed, many of us would describe sanctifying grace as a reward earned by our good deeds, given by God, and stored up in heaven. Though we believe that the Holy Spirit is the Sanctifier (the Father creates; the Son redeems; the Holy Spirit sanctifies), we don't connect sanctifying grace with the Holy Spirit as sanctifier. As far as I recall, the seminary treatments on sanctifying grace dealt primarily with theological disputes: the rela-tionship between original sin and grace, between free will and grace (predestination), between grace and good deeds (Augustine vs. Pelagius). I recall also a dispute between the Jesuits and Dominicans on the topic that became so heated that the pope had to forbid each order to discuss it. And we have an inadequate understanding of redemption. The traditional explanation of redemp-tion, the Satisfaction Theory of St. Anselm, teaches that Jesus as "God-Man" satisfied the debt owed to God by the human race because of Adam and Eve's sin. Since Jesus was truly human, he could represent the human race, and since he was truly divine, his suffering could satisfy the offended justice of the Divinity. Jesus' death Review for Religious saved us by repaying our debt and opening the gates of heaven. Whatever its strengths, this particular explana-tion of salvation does not focus on the sending of the Holy Spirit as the culmination of the Paschal Mystery. Cultural Assumptions Also contributing to our lack of understanding of the indwelling Spirit and discernment of spirits are sig-nificant cultural attitudes. Again, excuse my oversim-plifications. Our culture fosters a secular view of human behav-ior. Since the Enlightenment in the seventeenth cen-tury, we have divided the world into a sacred sphere and a secular sphere. Heaven, where God dwells, is sacred; earth, where we dwell, is secu-lar. Our understanding of human behavior is therefore entirely sec-ular. The theories of human behavior com-ing from the major schools of psychology following Freud, Skinner, and Maslow are agnostic. I recall rel-ishing Erich Fromm's The Art of Loving, in which he presents a cogent explanation of healthy active loving in psychoanalyti'c terms. Since Fromm is an agnostic, there is no mention of God. It was only years later that I real-ized that his psychological explanations were incomplete because they didn't include God. Christians believe that the source of all selfless love is God: God is love, and , where there is love, there is God. Our culture promotes a capitalistic view of rewards and punishments both for this life and for the next. Our culture fosters a secular view of human behavior. 169 70.2 2011 Hauser ¯ Discerning Spirit 170 We get what we deserve in life! When we are children, our parents reward or punish us for our behavior; when we are students, our teachers grade us according to our performance; when we are employees, our bosses com-pensate us according to our productivity. Our capitalistic mentality conditions us to assume that God acts in the same way and that God's lov;e is conditional and depen-dent on our behavior. We talk of "earning" grace and indulgences. A Puritan ethic built into our mentality even views our material prosperity and wealth as a reward or punishment for our fidelity in obeying God's laws. Our culture inculcates an individualistic view of our existence. We see ourselves as the cen-ter of the universe, existing independently of the larger human community, except for our fam-ily. From this center we earn our position in society by personal initiative and hard work and are indebted to no one but ourselves for our success. We earn mate-rial rewards from society and grace from God. We even assume that society and government exist primarily to help us maximize this self-interest. We are proud of the rags-to-riches stories characterizing new waves of immi-grants to America and our successful entrepreneurs. From this American individualism arises a fear of dependence both on one another and on God. We believe we are self-sufficient. Our cultural hero remains the cowboy clearing up outlaw problems and riding off alone into the sunset, needing nothing and no one. We even believe we are independent of God and have earned whatever we get from God, just as we have earned economic rewards from society. My students feel demeaned when they learn that God's grate is needed for all good deeds. I have to confess that to a greater or lesser degree I Review for Religious shared the above theological and cultural assumptions until 1974. Personal Crisis In 1974 my life reached a crises. After leaving stud-ies in the fall of 1972, I began my university teaching career. Very eager to be successful in my new ministry, I worked ten to twelve hours a day. I wanted to be a successful teacher. This demanded preparing new courses and then discovering how to pres-ent them effectively to students. I was in a department with several excellent teachers, and I was comparing myself with them and working to be as successful--and as popular--with students as they were. This caused stress and anxiety. I wanted to begin publishing. No one is awarded tenure at my university simply on the basis of good teaching. I was in a department with several outstand-ing scholars who wrote books and published regularly in refereed journals. I compared myself with them and wanted to be as successful in publishing as they were. But this meant I had to discover insights worth publish-ing and then find editors willing to publish them. More stress and anxiety. Finally, receiving tenure required university and community service. This meant I had to get myself known, respected, and elected by my peers to commit-tees in the department, college, and university; it also involved being invited to give presentations to local, regional, and national groups. More stress and anxiety. After two years of this I was exhausted. Providentially the time had arrived in my Jesuit formation when supe-riors invited me to do tertianship. Tertianship for Jesuits is the final period of spiritual formation, normally 171 70.2 2011 Hauser ¯ Discerning Spirit done after beginning a permanent ministry assignment. I asked to do this in two summers rather than in the usual nine-month format. I was afraid of interrupting my march toward tenure by taking off an entire year. In the summer of 1974 I arrived--exhausted--for tertianship. As I settled down and gained some perspec-tive on the previous two years, I began acknowledging my stress and anxiety. I recognized that I was function-ing rather well externally but that my ministry was tak-ing a great personal toll. I knew something was wrong, but I didn't know what. I was not experiencing the peace promised by the resurrected Christ: "Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Do not let your hearts be troubled or afraid" On 14:27-28). Concluding that I did not want to live under this pressure and stress the rest of nay life, I decided to give my university ministry another year. If I continued to experience the same stress and anxiety, I-would ask to be assigned to a different ministry. Then we were introduced to discernment of spirits. At this point, I had no real understanding of discern-ment, even though the founder of my Jesuit Order, St. Ignatius of Loyola, is a major contributor to the litera-ture on discernment through his Rules for Discernment of Spirits in The Spiritual Exercises. During my time of formation in the Jesuits--the fifties and sixties--we did not receive any instruction on these rules. I assumed that the guidelines were meant solely to help retreat directors guide people though the thirty-day retreat for-mat given in The Spiritual Exercises. Obedience to the dictates of scripture, the church, and our Jesuit rules would guide my life. No need for discernment here. Indeed, I had a basic misunderstanding of discern- Review for Religious ment, viewing it as external conformity to God's will. I had been missioned by superiors to work in a uni-versity; discernment meant examining my fidelity to teaching, scholarship, and service. Yet I knew something was wrong. The anxiety remained troublesome; I often experienced myself as an empty man doing good deeds. After several presentations on discernment of spir-its, I began to realize that my stress and anxiety were signs I was frequently out of tune with God's pres-ence in my ministry. My life was not oriented to recognizing and respond-ing to the internal move-ments of the Spirit within my heart but to the successful fulfillment of external obli-gations in teaching, scholarship, and service. I became aware that much of my energy was driven by personal career goals rather than by following the Spirit in serv-ing God's kingdom. This was a watershed in my life. Though my external behavior was appropriate, I was not living a very deep spiritual life. After the summer program, I returned to my univer-sity. I resumed my regular practice of examen of con-science at noon and at night but with a different focus. Now I began reviewing my life not primarily for fidelity to performing external duties of ministry but for the quality of my heart underlying these duties. Basic ques-tions: Where was my heart loving and peaceful today? Where was it not? I was finally discerning my response to the Spirit's presence. At this point I began a new daily practice--journal-ing. Each morning I journaled on the previous day's Where was my heart loving and peaceful today ? Where was it not? 70.2 2011 Hauser ¯ Discerning Spirit fidelity to responding to the Spirit, noting particularly the stress and anxiety that resulted from not responding. I lived that year with much greater peace. The Holy Spirit in Daily Life The documents of Vatican Council II, with its reap-propriation of the role of the Spirit in Christian life, initiated major shifts that affected my understanding of the church and sanctifying grace, the self and redemp-tion, holiness and Christian spirituality. Additionally these documents along with subsequent church teach-ing on the Holy Spirit directly addressed each of the inade, quate theological and cultural assumptions that had blocked my understanding of the indwelling Spirit and discernment of spirits. The council transformed our understanding of the church and grace, moving us from a hierarchical model to a People of God model. Before the council we acknowl-edged that the Holy Spirit guided the church through the hierarchy. The Dogmatic Constitution on the Church taught that the Spirit also guided believers individually: The Spirit dwells in the Church and in the hearts of the faithful as in a temple (see 1 Co 3:16; 6:19). In them he prays and bears witness to the fact that they are adopted sons (see Ga 4:6; Rm 8:15-16 and 26). The Spirit guides the Church into the fullness of truth (see Jn 16:13) and gives her a unity of fellowship and service. He furnishes and directs her with various gifts, both hierarchical and charismatic, and adorns her with the fruits of His grace (see Ep 4:11-12; 1 Co 12:4; Ga 5:22). (4) And this shift initiated a new understanding of grace. I began identifying sanctifying grace with the indwelling of the Holy Spirit. I recall my exhilaration at the following insight, which I published in a 1986 Review for Religious article: "The Holy Spirit is the completion of what God has given us in Christ. Let us consider sanctifying grace as the power given us through the presence of the Spirit to enter into a deeper relationship with Christ and so become more like him." Flowing from a renewed theology of the Holy Spirit is an understanding of the self and human behavior that acknowledges the role of the Spirit. Pope John Paul II, in his 1986 encyclical Lord and Life-Giver, reiterated the intimate relationship between Jesus and the Holy Spirit and redemption, a connection I had never understood: The redemption accomplished by the Son in the dimensions of the earthly history of humanity., is at the same time, in its entire salvific power, trans-mitted to the Holy Spirit: the one who "will take what is mine." The words of the text of John indicate that, according to the divine plan, Christ's "depar-ture" is an indispensable condition for the "send-ing" and the coming of the Holy Spirit, but these words also say that what begins now is the new, salvific self-giving of God, in the Holy Spirit. (11) The entire effect of the redemption by Christ was transmitted to the Holy Spirit! Since we had received the gift of the Spirit we could now trust our inner selves. The Holy Spirit would guide and strengthen us. Finally the theology of the Holy Spirit transformed the understanding of holiness and spirituality. Holiness could not be equated with self-initiated obedience to external laws; more profoundly--and without ignor-ing exterior laws--holiness is a response to the Spirit-initiated interior law written on our hearts. Paul harshly criticizes those who felt that fidelity to the external law was sufficient for living their new life in Jesus. Paul emphasized that this new covenant in Jesus is not a writ-ten law but a law of the Spirit in our hearts: 175 70.2 2011 Hauser ¯ Discerning Spirit But now we are discharged from the law, dead to that which held us captive, so that we serve not under the old written code, but in the new life of the Spirit (Rm 7:5). This great confidence in God is ours, through Christ. It is not that we are entitled of ourselves to take credit for anything. Our sole credit is from God, who has made us qualified ministers of a new cove-nant, a covenant not of a written law but of spirit. The written law kills, but the Spirit gives life (2 Co 3:4-6). I realized for the first time a foundational truth of our faith: the Spirit of Christ in us initiates and brings to fulfillment every good desire of our heart: Remain in me, as I remain in you. Just as a branch cannot bear fruit on its own unless it remains on the vine, so neither can you unless you remain in me. I am the vine, you are the branches. Vv'hoever remains in me and I in him will bear much fruit, because without me you can do nothing (Jn 15:4-5). The heart of Christian spirituality is recognizing and responding to the movements of the Holy Spirit. Not surprisingly, during the year between my first and second summer of tertianship I began experiencing greater peace in my life--the peace that Christ prom-ised his disciples almost every time he appeared to them after the Resurrection: "Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give it to you. Do not let your hearts be troubled or afraid" (Jn. 14:27-28). Reflecting back upon this period I recognize that practicing the discipline of discernment of spirits "saved" my university ministry. Jesus and Discernment: An Afterword My conviction on the centrality of discernment of spirits for Christian spirituality was deepened when I Review for Religious realized another truth about the Holy Spirit: the Holy Spirit is also Jesus' sanctifier. In his 1992 exhortation I Will Give You Shepherds Pope John Paul II's assertion that the Holy Spirit is the source of Jesus' holiness and ministry initially shocked me: "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me" (Lk 4:18). The Spirit is not simply "upon" the Messiah, but he "fills" him, penetrating every part of him and reaching to the very depths of all that he is and does. Indeed, the Spirit is the principle of the "consecration" and "mis-sion" of the Messiah: "Because he has anointed me and sent me to preach the good news to the poor"(Lk 4:18). Through the Spirit, Jesus belongs totally and exclusively to God and shares in the infinite holiness of God, who calls him, chooses him and sends him forth. In this way the Spirit of the Lord is revealed as the source of holiness and of the call to holiness. As I reflected further I realized that this assertion makes complete sense. Jesus is truly divine; therefore, Jesus' historical existence can never be separate from the Holy Spirit and the Trinity. And Jesus is also truly human, like us in all things but sin; therefore, like us he also needs guidance from God. The following passage from the Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World is an eloquent reflection on Jesus' humanity: Since human nature as He assumed it was not annulled, by that very fact it has been raised up to a divine dignity in our respect too. For by His Incarnation the Son of God has united Himself in some fashion with every man. He worked with human hands, He thought with a human mind, acted by human choice, and loved with a human heart. Born of the Virgin Mary, He has truly been made one of us, like us in all things but sin. (22) 177 70.2 2011 Hauser ¯ Discerning Spirit This realization posed a new question: does Jesus discern the Spirit? As I reflected on the question it seemed that Jesus' regular rhythm of withdrawal from his ministry to pray was his way of searching for the Spirit's strength and guidance for the next right step for his ministry. This rhythm begins immediately after his baptism by John at the River Jordan. Aren't Jesus' forty days in the desert before initiating his public ministry a time of his discernment of God's will? Doesn't his reaction to the three temptations show his discernment between Satan's voice and the Spirit's voice? The conclusion: since discernment of the Spirit is central for Jesus, it is also central for us. Note: a complete treatment of Fr. Hauser's approach to discernment of the Holy Spirit can be found in his book Moving in the Spirit: Becoming a Contemplative in Action (New York: Paulist Press, 1986), $10.95. 178 Review for Religious JOHN V. KRUSE Apostolic Visitations: Clare of Assisi's Insights from the Thirteenth Century As is widely known, in 2008 the prefect for the Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life called for an apostolic visitation of women's religious communities in the United States. In 2009, the Vatican's Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith initiated a doctrinal assess-ment of the Leadership Council of Women Religious, the largest organization of women religious in the U.S. Some women religious and American Catholics in general are skepti-cal of the Vatican's motives for the visitation and assessment. Is Rome trying to "rein in" women religious whom some members of the consecrated life John V. Kruse PhD is a historical theologian with exper-tise in Franciscan spirituality and the office of the papacy. Dr. Kruse, a resident of Wilmington, Delaware, is an assistant professor of theology at Neumann University. He can be addressed at Nemnann University; Departanent of Pastoral and Theological Studies; 1 Neumann Drive; Aston, Pennsylvania 19014. 179 70.2 2011 Kruse ¯ ~lpostolic Visitations hierarchy see as having strayed from their real mis-sion of supporting the hierarchy as it seeks to defend what is perceived as (or declared to be) orthodoxy? Is it trying to standardize women's religious life to a more pre-Vatican II model? Is it seeking to control the man-ner in which women religious strive to return to the original charisms of their orders, as instructed by the Second Vatican Council itself? Such papal visitations and assessments are not the first for women religious in the church's history. In the thirteenth century, Clare of Assisi faced her own apostolic visitations as she strove to live a life of absolute poverty based on the life of Christ and rooted in the spirit of Francis. Such a practice of poverty was practically unheard of for women religious of the time and ran contrary to the papacy's agenda to standardize women religious movements according to traditional monastic norms. Because of this, popes of the period and their representatives visited Clare in order to try to convince Clare to abandon her Franciscan charism and her call to absolute poverty so that she could embrace a life of strict enclosure and serve as a unifying force in their efforts to standardize women's religious life. An examination of Clare's response to these visitations uncovers insights into how women religious and other American Catholics might receive and respond to the visitation and assessment happening today. According to accounts of her early life, Clare (born c. 1194), a member of Assisi's noble class, seemed always to have had a special love of and concern for the poor. It was probably at a young age that she encountered the preaching and way of life of Francis, perhaps in the Cathedral of San Rufino near her childhood home. After meeting with Francis on a number of occasions, Revieva for Religious Clare sensed a vocation to follow him in living a life of radical poverty modeled on the example of Christ. On Palm Sunday 1212, after having given her dowry to the poor, Clare fled from her family to join Francis and his followers at the Church of St. Mary of the Angels (or the Porziuncola), where Francis tonsured her. Clare obviously could not take up residence with Francis's fri-ars. After she had lived for a short time in two other religious communities of women, Francis took Clare to the Church of San Damiano, in which Francis himself is said to have earlier heard the voice of Christ tell-ing Francis to rebuild his church. Clare sought to live a life different from the monastic model standard for women religious at that time. In fact, Jacques de Vitry, bishop of Acre, passing through central Italy during the first part of the thirteenth century, provides us with a first-hand description of the religious community of the first followers of Francis, whom he had come upon in the environs of Assisi. In a letter he wrote in 1216, he describes a unified group of "Lesser Brothers and Lesser Sisters" living the life of the "primit, ive church of which it is written: 'The multitude of believers was of one heart and one soul (Ac 4:32).'" He further describes the women as living in "hospices," not cloisters, and as living "from the work of their hands.''l In her Testament and Form of Life, Clare herself informs us that once Francis recognized that the com-munity of women living at San Damiano was committed to the rigors of poverty, he p.rovided them with a simple forma vitae based on the practice of absolute poverty.2 Francis's form of living for Clare and her sisters and the charism which Clare felt called to live did not neces-sarily fit into the church hierarchy's vision of religious life for women. At the time, there were a number of 181 70.2 2011 182 Kruse * Apostolic Visitations divergent women's movements in Italy living outside of strict religious norms and dedicated to poverty. Cardinal Hugolino of Ostia, papal legate of Northern Italy under Honorius III, set out to bring these divergent move-ments into conformity with the traditional monastic model of religious life, a model largely based on a system of endowments and a model which Hugolino believed was most beneficial to the overall well-being not only of the women religious but also of the church. Hugolino started to bring these different religious movements under the auspices of "the religion of the Poor Ladies of the Spoleto Valley or of Tuscany" (later to be called "The Order of Saint Damian"),3 a religious community he had founded and based on the Benedictine Rule and into which he desperately wanted to incorporate Clare's community at San Damiano. Doing so would not only bring Clare's community into conformity with the hier-archy's vision of religious life for women but would also add the prestige of Clare and especially of Francis to Hugolino's religious community and would guarantee the care of his order by the friars. In an ~ttempt to bring Clare's community into his order, Hugolino first visited Clare at San Damiano during Holy Week of 1220. To join her community to Hugolino's order would mean to accept the system of endowments and ownership of property implied in such a Benedictine model of religious life. This obviously would violate what Clare understood to be her voca-tion and driving charism. Neither The Acts of the Process of Canonization of Saint Clare, The Versified Legend of the ~rgin Clare, nor The Legend of Saint Clare mentions this visit of the papal legate. The Legend of Saint Clare, however, does mention an exchange of letters between Clare and Hugolino.4 One of these letters was written Review for Religious after his 1220 visit. In this letter, Hugolino indicates that he very much misses Clare. He implores Clare's prayers for his salvation5 and says that he will visit again at the earliest opportunity.6 More important for our purposes, Hugolino twice mentions conversation with Clare: "From that very hour when the necessity of returning here separated me from your holy conversa-tion., such a bitterness of heart, such an abundance of tears, and such an immensity of sorrow have overcome me . . .-7 and ". I remain desolate by your absence from me. For that glori-ous joy, with which I discussed the Body of Christ with you while celebrating Easter with you and the other servants of Christ, has forsaken me.''8 Clare not only engaged the papal legate Cardinal Hugolino in conversation but she also deeply impressed him with the witness of her way of life to the point that he became more aware of his own sin-fulness. He states, "And although I have always known and have considered myself to be a sinner, yet after hav-ing recognized a sure sign of your merits and having observed the rigor of your life, I have learned with cer-tainty that I have been weighed down with such a bur-den of sin., that I am not worthy to be. associated with the company of ~:he elect, unless your prayers and tears obtain for me pardon for my sins.''9 During this first visitation, Clare engaged the visiting papal legate in Clare not only engaged the papal legate Cardinal Hugolino in conversation but she also deeply impressed him with the witness of her way of life. 183 70.2 2011 Kruse * Apostolic Visitations warm and personal conversation and sought to demon-strate the spiritual value of her way of life by modeling it to him in spite of his desire that she abandon some aspects of that way of life (especially a commitment to absolute poverty) in order to fit into what he saw as the form of female religious life that could best promote the aims and purposes of the Apostolic See at that time. Hugolino next visited Clare as Pope Gregory IX (he had been elected to the papacy in 1227) during Francis's canonization in 1228. An account of this visit is described in The Legend of Saint Clare, which is sup-ported by witnesses at her process of canonization: When he was [attempting to] persuade her that, because of the events of the times and the dangers of the world, she should consent to have some pos-sessions which he himself willingly offered, she resisted with a very strong spirit and would in no way acquiesce. To this the Pope replied: "If you fear for your vow, We absolve you from it." "Holy Father," she said, "I will never in any way wish to be absolved from the following of Christ.''1° In spite of the pressures put on her by the pope to adopt his own model of religious life, Clare refused to abandon the model of absolute poverty that had been entrusted to her by Francis, who had based this model on the life of Christ. In refusing to accept Gregory's offer to have an exemption from her understanding of her vow of poverty, Clare was in effect claiming that she knew more about the intentions of Francis, a close friend of Gregory's, than did the pontiff, who, in the bull Quo elongati would point to his personal friendship with Francis as a qualification for interpreting Francis's intentions. Even more important, Clare indirectly implied that she knew more about the true meaning of Christian discipleship than the pontiff did and that she Review for Religious would never abandon the model of Christ even if the pontiff would permit her to do so.~l She clearly respected Gregory's office. Yet in spite of pressures applied by a pope during a personal visit, she could not and would not abandon her charism and her vision of what it meant to be a fol-lower of Christ even at the expense of dis-pleasing and alienat-ing the pope himself. She remained firm in her convictions although she had lit-tle external support from friars or others in the hierarchy of the church.12 Bowing to Clare's resistance and perhaps sensing he was in error, Gregory, in his bull Sicut mani-festum est (1228),~3 granted Clare the privilegium pauper-tatis (privilege of poverty) that she sought. Clare's determination not to bow to the pressure to abandon her Franciscan charism is seen not only in her concern to live a life of absolute poverty but also in her commitment to have her community remain integrally tied in a special relationship to the friars themselves. The question of the relationship of Clare's commu-nity at San Damiano to the friars was addressed in the previously mentioned bull Quo elongati. Gregory wrote this bull in response to the friars' own request for an interpretation of their Rule after Francis's death. After Francis died and as the Franciscan Order grew, diverse perspectives had developed in relationship to the cor- Clare could not and would not abandon her charism and her vision of what it meant to be a follower of Christ even at the expense of displeasing and alienating the pope himself 185 70.2 2011 Kruse * Apostolic l~sitations rect interpretation of the Rule. In Ouo elongati, Gregory effectively lumped San Damiano, Clare's monastery, in with all communities of poor sisters of the order he had established, and he limited San Damiano's direct, uninhibited access to the friars.14 Clare was livid. The Legend of Saint Clare, written in response to the need for "an official hagiographical statement''15 on the life of Clare and, thus, one not likely to include contrived blatant opposition to a pope, reflects her determination: Once, when Lord Pope Gregory forbade any brother to go to the monasteries of the Ladies without per-mission, the pious mother, sorrowing that her sisters would more rarely have the food of sacred teach-ing, sighed: "Let him now take away from us all the brothers since he has taken away those who provide us with the food that is vital." At once she sent back to the minister all the brothers, not wanting to have the questors who acquired corporal bread [those that collected alms for the sisters] when they could not have the questors for spiritual bread. W-hen Pope Gregory heard this, he immediately mitigated that prohibition into the hands of the general minister.16 Clare was so perturbed that the friars commissioned and entrusted with the spiritual care of her monaster-ies could not enter them without papal permission that she effectively threatened a hunger strike until Gregory backed down from his position. Clare was willing to be stubborn and even stomp her feet a bit in her efforts to remain true to her Franciscan identity. There is also evidence of Clare's persistence in remaining true to her Franciscan vocation in her own writings. In the face of Gregory's opposition, she most explicitly expressed her desire to defend her vision of absolute poverty in her second letter (1234-1238) to Agnes of Prague, daughter of the king of Bohemia, who Review for Religious had refused marriage to Emperor Frederick II. Agnes and Clare wished to transform the monastery of St. Francis of Prague from the forma vitae of Gregory IX to the model of San Damiano (that is, the)'brma vitae of Francis), a transformation that Gregory at first prohib-ited. 17 Clare instructs Agnes to remain firm: But because one thing is necessary, I bear witness to that one thing and enc

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 68.3 of the Review for Religious, 2009. ; ~Spiritu.a~ Growth ,~. --.,,Practicall~ Wisdom'iQ-UAoRFERLY 68.3 2009 - " Review for Religious fosters dialogue with God, dialogue with ourselves, and dialogue with one another about the holiness we try to live according to charisms of Catholic religious life. As Pope Paul Vl said, our way of being church is today the way of dialogue. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published quarterly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-633-4610 ¯ Fax: 314-633-4611 E-Maih reviewrfr@gmail.com ¯Web site: www.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2009 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribution, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. ~ gournalof Ca~ho~c ~piri~uah~y Editor Associate Editor Scripture Scope Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer sJ Eugene Hensell OSB Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp Paul Coutinho sJ Martin Erspamer OSB Margaret Guider OSF Kathleen Hughes RSCJ Louis ~nd Angela Menard Bishop Terry Steib SVD QUARTERLY 68.3 2009 contents prisms 228 Prisms 230 consecrated life stories. ~'~ I! The Impact of Women Religious on the Church of New York Regina Bechde SO, two centuries after New York became a large suffragan diocese of Baltimore, recounts its history-- which, as in dioceses everywhere, is inseparable from stories of its women religious. Looking for what was really going on, she finds the faith-meaning underneath the sisters' social and ecclesial achievements. 226 250 261 ignatian prayer Communal Examen Philip Shano SJ suggests ~ way of adapting the general examen found in the Ignatian Spiritual Exercises to a communal examen that can help the community as a group to attend to its daily life in a prayerful w~y. Questions for Personal and Group Reflection Ignatius's Contemplatio ad Amorem Louis M. Savary re-examine.s how Ignatius's Fourth Week contemplation asks us to observe closely the way God loves us and to put into practice our love of God and the rest of creation in a similarly unconditional .and generous way. A Prayer Response Review for Religious 276 289 298 spiritual growth Job's Difficult Transformation Marian Maskulak CPS, making grateful use of Stephen Mitchell's The Book of Job, explores the spiritual changes Job undergoes and suggests their relevance to ourselves. Questions for Personal and Group Reflection The Central Paradox of John of the Cross James W. Kinn presents and, like a good teacher, emphasizes John's teaching for proficient beginners. Connecting through Prayer John H. Zupez SJ suggests a way of praying that gives us a greater sense of connectedness to God and to one another in our lives. Questions for Personal and Group Reflection 3O6 313 practical wisdom When Pragmatists Become Mystics Rabbi Allen S. Mailer shares a variety of Hassidic wisdom sayings for our inspiration and for the deepening of our faith. AGame You Should Not Play Birney Dibble MD discusses the candor that people often find difficult around terminally ill patients. departments 318 Scripture Scope: Understanding the Psalms 323 Reviews 22 7 68.3 2009 prisms 228 Tsis a landmark issue of Review for Religious. You as reader will note that there is no Canonical Counsel article. From the first volume of our journal in January 1942 there was a department called Questions and Answers that dealt primarily with canon law issues for men and women liv-ing consecrated or religious life. The writer of this department was not identified. Likely the editor was the canon lawyer Father Adam C. Ellis SJ, one of the three founding editors. In volume 14 (September 1955) we find the first acknowledgment of an author for the Questions and Answers department. "The fol-lowing answers are given by Father Joseph E Gallen SJ, professor of canon law at Woodstock College, Woodstock, Maryland." As a matter of fact, it seems that Father Gallen had already been doing the work in a couple of preceding issues. He was also a consistent contributor of articles dealing with canon law perspectives or with the implications of recently issued Roman documents throughout the decades from 1950 to 2000. In volume 44 (January 1985) Father Richard A. Hill sJ, professor of canon law at the Jesuit School of Theology at Berkeley, began writ-ing the newly titled Canonical Counsel arti-cle. After five years as contributing editor for Canonical Counsel, Father Hill asked to be relieved because of his responsibilities at the Jesuit School of Theology at Berkeley and at the University of San Francisco. Review for Religious In volume 49 (July/August 1990) Sister Elizabeth McDonough OP became our Canonical Counsel editor. From that issue up to our past issue (68.2, 2009) she has contributed one hundred articles dealing with all aspects of the 1983 Code of Canon Law dealing with conse-crated or religious life. She literally has written a valuable commentary on the Code for all of us living consecrated life. Sister Elizabeth McDonough believes that she has completed her task, and has said she would appreciate having more time for her teaching and other writing. As of this issue, then, we have no department of Questions and Answers or its successor Canonical Counsel. As edi-tor, I hope that we will have occasional articles to update us on canonical issues as they may arise. I express my deep gratitude to Sister Elizabeth McDonough for her masterful contribution to religious life through this journal. Besides the fact that she writes clearly and concisely, I as editor was especially apprecia-tive at how prompt she was to meet every deadline over this twenty-year period. It is our intention that Review for Religious will publish the compilation of McDonough's Canonical Counsel articles as a readable disc/book in the fall of 2009. We intend that the disc-form of the book will allow for valuable and easy reference. Without trying to replace Canonical Counsel as a department, my advisory board encourages me and the staff to consider regular contributions in the liturgical area, especially with the revision of the missal, and also regarding the continuing development of new forms of religious life and affiliations. So the journal hopes to keep contributing to our living of religious life and our sharing it with the wider church. David L. Fleming SJ 229 68.3 2009 REGINA BECHTLE The Impact of Women Religious on the Church of New York consecrated life stories On a spring day in 2008, I stood in the majes-tic St. Patrick's Cathedral amid representatives of the 116 congregations of women religious serving in the archdiocese of New York. In the processional hymn, Benedictine Sister Delores Dufner's "Sing a New Church," we sang "summoned by the God who made us, rich in our diversity, gathered in the name of Jesus, richer still in unity." These words of struggle, promise, and affirmation can only hint the reality of women religious in dioceses all through the United States. Our story is indeed a rich and diverse one, focused in a grand unity.! The year 2008 marks the bicentennial of the establishment of four dioceses--New York, Boston, Philadelphia, and Bardstown (Kentucky)--and Baltimore's designation as an archdiocese. The church in New York serves Regina Bechtle SC is Charism Resource Director for the Sisters of Charity of New York; 6301 Riverdale Avenue; Bronx, New York 10471. R~iew for Religious two and a half million Catholics in ten counties, from the urban density of Manhattan and the Bronx, to an underserved rural population in the north. The story of this diocese, like dioceses everywhere, is inseparable from the story of its women religious.2 The bicentennial invited us all to reimagine our story within the story of larger social and ecclesial movements, movements we helped shape and were shaped by. Let me suggest an image. Our seminary's excellent library holds many books about religious congregations and provinces connected with this archdiocese. Some use the pious, purple prose of the glory days, others pack a more modern, journalistic punch. But they all tell how communities came here, what needs confronted them, and what they did about those needs. Imagine all those volumes on the shelves, flanked by histories of the church in this country and region, bolstered by studies of the many immigrants who came here and by surveys on education, public health, child care, human services, pastoral ministry, catechesis, lay leadership, spiritual for-marion, race relations, community development, advo-cacy and action for peace and justice, environmental concerns, and global awareness. Now imagine all those volumes in conversation with one another, comparing, connecting, cross-referencing. Only an eavesdropper on all of those conversations could write the full story of women religious, the meta-story that cries out to be told in each diocese and in the country at large. My purpose here is modest. I speak not as an histo-rian but as a theologian and spiritual director who tries to listen both to a person's story and to the story under-neath the story. I listen to hear what is "happening" and what is "really going on." I propose to apply those questions to the stories of women religious in this and, 231 68.3 2009 Bechtle ¯ The Impaa of Women Religious in New York mutatis mutandis, other dioceses.3 What was happening during those many years? And what was "really going on"? In other words, how was God at work in it? How do we measure impact? I suggest we measure',impact by the tributes of a socie : 232 Measuring Impact First, a word about the meaning of "impact." For New Yorkers, the searing memory of 11 September 2001, of giant planes crashing into the World Trade Center's towers, forever colors the word's meaning. Yet over its lifetime this city, like most others, has absorbed the impact of many other traumatic events--epidem-ics from yellow fever, cholera, and influenza to HIV/AIDS; fires and floods; riots and gang wars; economic upheavals and finan-cial despair; wartime anxiety and loss on the home front. How do we measure impact? In New York City, where real estate rules and media coverage makes you or breaks you, some judge impact in terms of stone and steel, of buildings constructed, renovated, retrofitted. Some measure impact by best sellers and column inches, by prime-time coverage and website hits. Others mea-sure impact in the flesh-and-blood realities of bodies blessed and bandaged, minds mentored, hearts healed, spirits sustained. Impact is about relatonships as much as headlines. I suggest we measure impact by the trib-utes of a society, like the tens of thousands who lined the streets in 1896 to honor the passing of Sister of Charity Mary Irene Fitzgibbon, founder of the New York Foundling and conscience of a city.* Review for Religious Impact is measured in the halls of Congress by Sister Patricia Cruise SC and Sister Mary Rose McGeady DC testifying about the runaway youth served by Covenant House; by the words of Sisters Patricia Wolf RSM, Regina Murphy SC, and Arlene Flaherty OP, whose advocacy on behalf of justice in shareholder meetings and public forums has heralded the gospel in our day; by the lumi-nous theological writings of Sister Elizabeth Johnson csJ; by Sister Theresa Kane RSM calling in 1979 on Pope John Paul II to hear the desire of women to participate fully in the church; and by the gunshots that murdered Maryknoll Sisters Maura Clarke MM and Ita Ford MM in 1980 in El Salvador and Sister Barbara Ford SC in 2001 in Guatemala; by the vision of Mother Irene Gill OSU, who in 1904 began the College of New Rochelle, the first Catholic college for women in New York State, and Mother Buder RSHM, who opened Marymount College in Tarrytown in 1907; by the steadfast peace witness of women like Sister Anne Montgomery RSCJ and Sister Eileen Storey SC in Iraq and the West Bank. Even this hard-to-impress city recognizes the impact of these exceptional women. Yet they would be the first to protest that the vast majority of their sisters, the thousands of women religious who have served the people of New York, have lived equally extraordinary lives, only in a less public sphere. The everyday impact of their faithfulness has been felt for generations by families, neighborhoods, parishes, and institutions that never make the headlines. What Was Happening? The Catholic historian Gary Macy describes history as "the stories that we tell ourselves so that we know better how we got to be who we are.''5 Before I address what was happening, let me make a few introductory 68.3 2009 Becbtle ¯ The lmpaa of Women Religious in New York remarks. It behooves us to tell the whole story, all of it, because that helps us to see who we are now and to believe we can be still better. We need to include the shadow as well as the light. We were instrtm~ents of social grace and social sin. We were victims of prejudice and injustice, but we were perpetrators as well. Until recently, women religious have not been telling our story well. Why not? One reason is that a certain understanding of the virtue of humility has conditioned us to be hesitant about promoting ourselves. Another reason might be that our entertainment-hungry, attention-deficient culture seems able to hear only a particularly loud voice. To tell what was happening, we might consider chapter headings like these for our story: ¯ Some Came and Stayed, Some Passed Through and Left Their Mark ¯ With Their Own Blood, Sweat, Tears-- and Money ¯ "Open a Hospital? But We Thought You Wanted Us to Teach" ¯ They Don't Trust Catholics, but They Want Sisters' Care When They're Injured ¯ How Many Communities in This Diocese? Only God Knows! Some of our communities started here on the bed-rock of this ever-changing place. Most were seedlings transplanted from elsewhere into its stubborn soil. All soon found themselves irrevocably transformed. Some came to New York and moved on, up and down the Atlantic coast, or west, into the heartland and frontier. Some came and stayed here. There was always plenty of work to do here, no matter when they came. We can imagine a common story line that begins with a letter something like this: Revie~v for Religious Reverend Mother Superior: We beg you to send Sisters to take care of [one or more of the following kinds of needy persons]: orphans, uneducated, sick poor, abandoned infants, girls working as domestics who are being seduced by their employers, youngsters needing to learn a trade, elderly folks, homeless, families at risk, immigrants who can't speak the language, people hungry for food and knowledge, Catholics who need to be counted and catechized. Please come yourself if you can, Mother, or at least send us your best workers--the strongest, the bright-est, the most fearless. We need you desperately. Respectfully yours, Bishop or Pastor or Trustee Also part of the story line, though rarely found writ-ten down in the letters, are facts and observations like these: ¯ Never mind that the house won't be ready for you. You'll probably have to count on the hospitality of another community until you find your own. ¯ We can't promise you much money--you'll have to raise most of it yourself. ¯ You may end up as martyrs to cholera, dysentery, influenza, tuberculosis, and violence and to the poverty of the poor you came to serve. ° You may find that the demands of your work make it hard, even impossible, to live your Rule, your way of living and praying that you cherish so deeply.6 What was happening? Two hundred years ago, in 1808, John Carroll was breathing a sigh of relief, after a fashion. Since 1789 he had been bishop of the one diocese in the U.S.A, a territory that stretched from the Atlantic to the Mississippi and from Canada to the Spanish Floridas. Now Baltimore was named .an arch-diocese, and Carroll's pastoral burden was lessened by the creation of four suffragan dioceses.7 The New York diocese comprised all of New York I! 68.3 2009 Becbtle * The Impact of Women Religious in New York 236] State and part of New Jersey. The 80,000 inhabitants of New York included about 14,000 Catholics, mostly Irish, with some French and Germans, served by one Catholic parish, St. Peter's, on Barclay Street. In 1808 the non-Catholic majority of New Yorkers viewed the parish with disdain, and its mostly poor, immigrant con-gregation as uncouth, dirty, and decidedly lacking in proper religious sensibility. Also in 1808 a young widow was about to leave New York. She was a convert, and Catholic Baltimore seemed infinitely more hospitable than her native city, where the disdain could be hostile. I speak of Elizabeth Ann Bayley Seton, saint of New York. We cannot tell the story of women religious in this archdiocese without her, though she never lived here as a religious. The school she began in Baltimore became the catalyst for a new religious community. In July 1809, on donated land in Emmitsburg, in the Maryland hills, she (a Catholic for only four years) began the Sisters of Charity of Saint Joseph's. It was the first active women's congregation founded in and native to the United States. Elizabeth and her advisers modeled it on the noncloistered Daughters of Charity founded by Vincent de Paul and Louise de Marillac in 17th-century France, but they adapted the Rule to the circumstances and needs of 19th-century America. The language and faces Changed, but many of those needs remain today. To the Ursulines belongs the distinction of being the first women religious in the New World. They came to Canada in 1639 and to French New Orleans in 1727. Twelve nuns came from France to nurse, but soon found themselves teaching, caring for orphans, and working with wayward women. One of their novices wrote home: "We are determined not to spare ourselves Review for Religious in anything that will be for the greater glory of God.''8 Some Ursulines from Ireland came to New York in 1812, began a school that lasted only three years, and then returned home. In 1817, nine years after the diocese was established, Mother Seton yielded to the pleas of New York Catholics and sent, as a gift to her home church, three sisters to care for orphans in what was then St. Patrick's Cathedral parish on Mott and Prince Streets. At that time Catholics numbered about 20,000. Concerning the New York Catholics, Mother Seton wrote: "So much must depend . . . on who is sent to my 'native city' they say, not knowing that I am a citizen of the world.''9 Soon demands for sisters increased, as they were to do again and again in all our stories. Mother Seton had her native New York pegged: "so distracted a place." Later correspondents would be even more grim in their descrip-tion of the poverty, filth, and violence of the city in which sisters taught, nursed, and cared for orphans. Bishop John Hughes, known to friend and foe alike as "Dagger John," would later call New York "Babylon the Great." An estimated one-seventh of the city's population of 15,000 depended on public relief in the winter of 1817. By 1820, health and housing issues in the city were critical. In the economic slump after the War of 1812, a huge influx of immigrants and annual yellow-fever epidemics created what amounted to a continuous state of emergency.l° I To the, Ursulines belongs ,the distinction of being ' 'ihe first women religious in the New World, 68.3 2009 Becbtle * Tbe Impaa of Women Religious in New York 238 In 1827 Bishop John Dubois wrote that his flock included about 30,000 mostly poor Catholics, and com-plained ~that property in New York was very expensive. That same year several Religious of the Sacred Heart stopped in New York en route to St. Louis. In 1841 their congregation would return for good as the city's second religious community of women when Mother Aloysia Hardey opened on Houston.and Mulberry Streets an academy that would later move to Astoria. Catholic-and-immigrant is a recurring theme. In 1785, when St. Peter's Church was dedicated, people said the pastor needed to be fluent in six languages-- English, German, French, Spanish, Portuguese, and Irish--to serve his two hundred parishioners. Today Mass is celebrated in thirty-three languages in the New York archdiocese, and most large urban dioceses report similar statistics. The numbers of Irish and German immigrants com-ing in the 1830s brought strong anti-Catholic feeling to the surface. In 1836 The Awful Disclosures of Maria Monk was published, a slanderous account of cruelty and abuse in a Montreal nunnery. The falsity of it did nothing to keep it from becoming the best-selling American book before Uncle Tom's Cabin.~l Across the country, fear of immigrants and foreigners went together with a viru-lent opposition to Catholicism. The 1834 burning of an Ursuline convent in Charlestown, Massachusetts, was but one expression of anti-Catholic hatred. Yet, in the face of such rabid Nativist prejudice, over and over it was sisters--nursin.g, teaching, risking their lives for the poor--who gradually tempered society's perception of the church and of its immigrant flock. By 1848 one-third of New York's population was foreign born, swelled by thousands of Irish desperate to Review for Religious escape the terrible famine in their homeland. The eighty-two women religious in the diocese included a new group, the Sisters of Mercy. Mother M. Agnes O'Connor and six Sisters from Dublin, the "walking nuns," visited the sick in their homes, taught adults, took in young women seeking to escape from prosti-tution, and visited prisons. Mother Seton's daughter Catherine became one of their first postulants. In 1849 a cholera epidemic killed five thousand New Yorkers. In November of that year, the diocese's first Catholic hos-pital, St. Vincent's, opened with thirty beds, five doc-tors, and four Sisters of Charity. The needs of a rapidly expanding Catholic popula-tion prompted Rome to carve new dioceses from the see of New York: in 1847 Albany and Buffalo, and in 1853 Brooklyn (including all of Long Island) and Newark (including all of New Jersey). The area of the diocese of New York, named an archdiocese in 1850, had shrunk to one-tenth of its original size, but its people had grown to more than three hundred times its original number, between 300,000 and 400,000 Catholics?2 By 1855 over half of New York City's population was foreign born. It was known as the largest Irish city in the world and the third largest German city. In 1867 the Good Shepherd Sisters took in 275 young women who had been coerced into a life of pros-titution. Many of them were domestics whose employers By 1855; New York City ~as, known as the largest ,,Irish ,ei~in the World and the , third !argest German city, 23,9 68.3 2009 Becbtle * The Impact of FVomen Religious in Nay York had, in polite terms, ruined their reputations. Another 500 had to be turned away. In 1869 Sister Mary Irene Fitzgibbon SC opened the New York Foundling asylum. By the time of her death in 1896, this pioneer Catholic child-welfare agency had cared for 28,000 infants and many pregnant unwed and working mothers as well. By 1885 women religious supervised most of New York's child-welfare system, with more than eighty per-cent of its dependent children in their care. The New York Foundling (Sisters of Charity) and the Mission of the Immaculate Virgin (Sisters of St. Francis), the two largest institutions--along with those operated by Sisters of Mercy, of Divine Compassion, of Notre Dame, of the Good Shepherd, and others--provided a safe and caring environment for approximately 15,000 children.13 As needs grew, so did the religious work force. By 1875 there were about a thousand Catholic sisters in New York City. In ten years the number doubled. Child welfare was a major social problem. According to 1904 statistics, New York City harbored one-third of all insti-tutionalized and dependent children in the whole country. At the beginning of the 20th century, the archdiocese included 42 national parishes that served 11 different eth-nic groups. By 1911 women religious had founded three Catholic colleges for women: the Ursulines' College of New Rochelle (1904), the Religious of the Sacred Heart of Mary's Marymount College (1907), and the Sisters of Charity's .College of Mount St. Vincent (1911). In 1939, when Francis Spellman became New York's archbishop, this local church had over 2,500 priests, 10,000 nuns, and two million members. (It was also $26 million in debt.)14 What was happening? After World War II, in most U.S. religious congregations, there was a peak period Review for Religious of growth that lasted until the late 1960s. Those boom years and the winds of change that Vatican Council II set swirling deserve fuller analysis and reflection than is possible here)5 What Was "Really Going On"? I turn now to my second question: Amid all the facts and statistics in the story of women religious, what was "really going on" in, with, through, and even in spite of what was happening? How was and is God's work evident? I asked a few lay colleagues to describe the impact of women religious. A female pastoral associate responded, "Women religious have paved the way for the rest of us." A male theology professor replied that religious "have been gatekeepers of religious information, vital to identity formation." And from a male sociology profes-sor: "Women religious have helped us rethink our world and understand that mission is local and global." Some might find meaning in the story of New York's women religious by charting a trajectory: ¯ from assimi-lation to accompaniment, ¯ from competition to col-laboration, ¯ from convent lifestyles of cookie-cutter conformity to distinguishable diversity, ¯ from provin-cialism to global connection, ° from presence in institu-tions to presence to issues of our day. For others, the story of women religious in New York is a story of collective self-awakening that parallels the major social movements of the past two centuries, for example, from being the church's cheap labor force to being "catalysts to conscience.''~6 What was "really going on"? How was the Spirit present in our blind spots and flashes of light, in our so-called successes and so-called failures? What signs of 68.3 2009 Becbtle * The Impact of Women Religious in New York 242 God's moving and shaking, God's transforming energy and grace, can we notice? Underneath the narrative, faith always senses a deeper story, marked with the signs of God's pervasive presence. That story speaks of risk, of courage, of loss, and of love that transcends loss. It reveals themes of faithfulness, of relationship, of witness, and of power. It is a story much bigger than that of any one religious community. In assessing the impact of women religious, assess-ing what was "really going on," I offer four replies: (1) Faithfulness was (and is) going on. In the lives of the women named earlier in this article, faithfulness wore a highly public face. It shaped thought, molded institu-tions, awakened conscience, crafted public policy, acted and spoke out against ignorance, war, and poverty and for education, compassion, peace, and justice. Margaret John Kelly DC speaks of our legacy of "charity embrac-ing justice," a legacy that "generated energy as it moved from the hovels and points of entry in the 19th century to the halls and courts of power in our 21st century.''17 In their fierce fidelity, some among us are impelled by the Spirit to make private pain a public issue. In the lives of most of us, faithfulness takes a more ordinary form. (2) Relationship was (and is) going on. For example, there were relationships with the laity. Lay benefac-tors often saw needs more clearly than ecclesiastics did. Catholic and Protestant laywomen invited the Sisters of the Good Shepherd to minister to prostitutes in New York's prisons and almshouses in 1857. (Some while earlier, Archbishop Hughes would not acknowledge the fact of prostitution among Irish immigrant women.)~s From the earliest days, women religious knew that Review for Religious we could never carry out our mission alone, even though we sometimes pretended that we could. New York's first parish schools were begun by lay people, who soon invited sisters and brothers to staff them. The same was true in the first orphanages and hospitals, where lay managers, physicians, and clinicians supervised--and sometimes locked horns with--the sisters who served there. Before long, sisters assumed leadership of those same institutions and shaped them into vital providers of service in society. In our day, relationships are shift-ing again. Today, as they seek new ways to be in part-nership for the sake of the mission, religious and the laity depend on each other as never before. There were and are relationships with non-Catholics. Again and again, by their heroic behavior in epidemics, wars, and disasters, women religious won over the very Nativists and Know-Nothings who had vilified them. A prominent WASP (white Anglo-Saxon Protestant), Mr. Edwards Pierpont, exemplified the change of heart that sisters wrought. During the Civil War he told the Secretary of War that he wanted only a certain commu-nity of sisters to staff a military hospital in New York's Central Park, because they were "the most faithful nurses in the world." There were and are relationships among and between religious communities. In the early years, one arriving community after another was greeted with hospital-ity rather than aloofness or competitiveness by those already established here. In New York's urban vineyard, with plenty of work to be done, there were always too few laborers. In 1889, with the blessing of Pope Leo XIII, Mother Frances Xavier Cabrini and six Missionary Sisters of the Sacred Heart came to New York to work with Italian orphans. No one knew anything about the 68.3 2009 Becbtle ¯ Tbe Impact of Women Religious in New York convent they had been promised, so they spent their first night in a rundown rooming house. The Sisters of Charity took them in until a house hastily rented by a benefactor was ready. Unfortunately, that sisterly spirit could and often did yield to smug self-sufficiency. Rivalries, turf battles, and isolating rules kept members incommunicado from other congregations. Perhaps our large numbers and institutional presence during the peak years 1940-1969 inflated our corporate egos and narrowed our vision. Certainly, much of pre-Vatican II Catholic theology did little to dispose us to build bridges of understanding beyond boundaries. Today, happily, collaboration is a way of life for women religious. In theory and in prac-tice, we know that "none of us is as smart as all of us." (3) Witness was (and is) going on. Witness, intention-ally directed towards others, about what should be and against what should not be if God's dream is to be real-ized, expresses religious life's prophetic vocation. From our first days in this archdiocese, the not-so-subtle sub-text of our lives was: "Look. See. Pay attention. The poor are always among us--not invisible, not forgotten." The women religious who pioneered child-care insti-tutions in the late 19th century did more than mother countless orphans and foundlings. In a society that wanted to punish the poor for their poverty and ostra-cize unmarried women for their sexual conduct, they aligned themselves with the least ones. Their actions of compassion witnessed to the worth and dignity of every human being. Today our witness is the same: it is not about ourselves. It is about people in need, whether here or far away, in cardboard shacks on city streets or in huts with dirt floors in faraway parts of the world. "With whom do you believe your lot is cast?" asks the Review for Religious I! poet Adrienne Rich.19 Our answer has been clear: the least of Christ's sisters and brothers. (4) Power was (and is) going on. Interwoven with our stories are stories of power used and abused, for good and for ill. We have been agents and victims of power, subjects and objects of power. In our liminal status as neither clerics nor laypersons, we walk a fine line. As public persons in the church, we are subject to more sanctions and less freedom than the laity. Like them, we are closed off from much decision-making where we could exercise power for appropriate change. More than once we have given over our power and col-luded with unjust social and ecclesial structures. Diminishment, not power, seems the over- . ,~religious life today. riding theme in conver-sations about religious life today. But it is hardly the whole story. Our Catholic heritage gives us other angles from which to view the reality. We should look clearly and sensitively at things seen, but also in faith be sensitive to things unseen. The cold hard facts of the past forty years--declining numbers, more women dying than entering, the rising median age, retirement expenses, and cherished ministries sold, merged, or lost--do not tell the whole story, any more than the success and solidity of the 1940s and 1950s captured the whole story. The key question is: What wisdom have we learned from the success and the suffering that have been part of every stage of our existence? (And how do believers ~ i ~D~minishrnent, , not power, "~, ,seems tlie overriding theme ~ ¯ in, conversations about [245 68.3 2009 Becbtle ¯ The Impact of Women Religious in New York 246] measure success anyway?) As one congregational leader asked, "Do life's traumatic events serve as catalysts for transformation or stagnation in our religious congrega-rions?'' 2° What does all of it have to do with the mystery of dying and rising with Christ, the mystery of transfor-marion, that is the core of being Christian believers? In our beginnings, struggles, growth, and letting go, how have we tasted grace? Questions like these can move us to imagine an alternate view. We have claimed, explicidy and unapolo-gerically, power to create and re-create, to realize God's dream, in imitation and remembrance of the Jesus whom we vow to follow. We have used power to make a differ-ence in people's lives, to bring about change in society. Pope Benedict XVl recognized this in his address last year to U.S. Catholic educators: "Countless dedicated religious sisters, brothers, and priests together with selfless parents have, through Catholic schools, helped generations of immigrants to rise from poverty and take their place in mainstream society." We have used power to translate dreams and imaginings into buildings and behaviors, programs and policies; to shape the spiritual sensibilities of a people; to build relationships, widen the circle, and bring others to the table. This Spirit-story of power fought for and claimed, energy released and transformed, gifts shared and multi-plied, is the story of women religious. From what source do we draw this power? Does our deep life in God have anything to do with our story, with our impact? The answer may be obvious to us in religious life, but it needs to be voiced unambiguously. Not long ago Doris Gottemoeller RSM said of women religious, "We struggle to make our daily efforts transpar-ent to the love of God which animates us and the hope Review for Religious that guides us into the future." It is "the love of God which animates us," and it is that love alone which gives us the heart and energy of our committed response. I began with two questions: What was happening? And what was really going on? The course of these remarks has led me to two different but related ways of posing those questions, namely, With whom do we believe our lot is cast? And from where have we drawn our strength? Indeed, women religious in the church of New York and elsewhere have written a long scroll of faithfulness. We have aided people everywhere. The faithful witness of our efforts has changed public perception of religion and shaped public discourse about charity and justice. But our impact is most authentically measured, I believe, not by the visible standards of institutional presence or even the calculus of service, but rather in the incalcu-lable, invisible source of our energy and service, the passionate presence of God in us, the deep wellsprings of Spirit-life from which we live. No words, no story, can tell how God in us has touched our hearts and the hearts of others, and changed our world for the better. Matthew 2.5 makes it clear: it is love that matters. Surely, that final revealing of all that was obscure and hidden, that final tally of impact, will tell the story of women religious and their love--their immense, faith-ful, relational, witnessing, and powerful love--lived from deep within the heart of God. 1 This article is adapted from an address given at St. Ignatius Loyola Parish in New York, 3 April 2008, in a series commemorating the arch-diocese's 200th anniversary. Speakers were asked: "To what next step, to what new place, are women religious and our local church being invited? 68.3 2009 Becbtle ¯ The Impact of Women Religious in New York 248 What would the future look like through the eyes of your foundress?" 2 About 2,900 professed women religious live and minister in the archdiocese of New York. 3 Though this article focuses on New York, it is easily applicable to other dioceses. ~ Readers will know similar stories wherever they live. s "Diversity as Tradition: Why the Future of Christianity Is Looking More Like Its Past," Santa Clara Lecture, Santa Clara University, 8 November 2007. http://www.scu.edu/ignatiancenter/events/lectures/ index.cfm 6 For example, the Dominican sisters in Blauvelt, New York, a rural area in the 1880s, could not keep the rule of enclosure because their work with orphans required frequent trips to the New York City courtS~ 7 Thomas Spalding, The Premier See: A History of the Archdiocese of Baltimore, 1789-1994 (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1989), notes that Carroll did not want to foster a lot of strictly Catholic institutions, but rather "wished the local church to blend imperceptibly into the social fabric" (p. 62). The needs of the growing immigrant Catholic population would soon dictate otherwise. s [Sister Therese Wolfe OSU], The Ursulines in New Orleans and Our Lady of Prompt Succor: A Record of Two Centuries, 1727-1925 (New York: P.J. Kenedy & Sons, 1925), pp. 199-200. 9 Elizabeth Seton to Rev. Simon Brute, 1 August 1817, in Elizabeth Barley Seton Collected Writings, 4 vols., ed. Regina Bechtle SC and Judith Metz SC; ross. ed., Ellin M. Kelly (New York: New City Press, 2000- 2006), vol. 2, p. 494. l0 Christine Stansell, City of Women: Sex and Class in New York, 1789- 1860 (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1986), pp. 8-9 & 19. l~ See John McGreevy, Catholicism and American Freedom: A History (New York: W.W. Norton & Company, 2003). ~2 Thomas J. Shelley, The Bicentennial History of the Archdiocese of New York, 1808-2008 (Strasbourg: Editions du Signe, 2007), p. 171. ~3 Maureen Fitzgerald, Habits of Compassion (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 2006), p. 133. ~4 1 am indebted to Maureen Welsh SHCJ for compiling and sum-marizing many of the statistics used in this article. ~s See, for example, Lora Ann Quifionez CDP and Mary Daniel Turner SNDdeN, The Transformation of American Catholic Sisters (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1992). Review for Religious I! 16 Joan Chittister OSB has written that the purpose of religious life is to be "a searing presence, a paradigm of search, a mark of human soul, and a catalyst to conscience in the society in which it emerged." ,7 Margaret John Kelly DC, address to Catholic Charities of New York, 21 February 2008, reported in Catholic New York, 28 February 2008. 18 See Shelley, Bicentennial History, p. 356. 19 Adrienne Rich, "The Spirit of Place." z0 Mary Persico IHM, "Welcoming the Storm," LCWR Occasional Papers, Winter 2007. Deadheading Deadheading daffodils is sad but necessary work. When the rich yellow trumpet goes all papery and transparent it begins to draw life from the bulb which stores it for next year's flowering. So, like a minor executioner, I lop offheads - snip, snip, snip - watch them fall haphazardly to the gentler earth which gathers up old life to make it new again. Bonnie Thurston 68.3 2009 PHILIP SHANO Communal Examen ignatian prayer Father George Aschenbrenner's groundbreaking article of 1972 on the "consciousness examen" led to a renewed understanding of the tradi-tional Ignatian exercise and its dynamic role in our personal lives2 His work dealt with the personal examen. In recent years occasional efforts have stressed Ignatian spirituality's communal dimension. Among those efforts is the work of a group called Ignatian Spiritual Exercises for the Corporate Person (ISECP), uniting the dynamic of the Exercises with insights of group facilitation.2 Also, an entire issue of The Way Supplement was devoted to communal discernment.3 John English SJ's book Spiritual Intimacy and Community deals with it.4 It stresses our nature as members of a community and helps readers to reflect on discernment's communal dimension. Philip Shano SJ last wrote for us in 2008. His address is soon to be Canadian Martyrs Residence; 2 Dale Avenue; Toronto, Ontario; M4W 1K4 Canada. Review for Religious This article, however, is not about communal dis-cernment per se; the pieces mentioned above are good starting points for that purpose. This article simply describes a "communal" examen of consciousness, an exercise based on the realization that Ignatian spiritual-ity is applicable to communities, not just individual men and: women. Where is Christ to be found in daily com-munity living? Communities, families, organizations, and even nations can experience collective consolation or desolation, a sense of being connected with God's movements in the world or a sense of being separated from them. Spirituality is communal. Though Ignatius's definitions and rules in the Exercises apply primarily to persons' relationship with God, they are also applicable to communal situations, to persons' relationship with one another. The communal examen, then, can help the community as a group to attend to its daily life in a prayerful way. The communal examen adapts the general examen found in the Spiritual Exercises (§§32-43). I divide this exercise into two connected parts. The first involves guiding our community prayerfully through the steps of the examen--a loving and contemplative look at our life together. The second part invites dialogue or conver-sation so that we share with the others our reflections on our community's life. I will refer to the parts as the guided examen and the conversational examen. One of the attractions of the communal examen is the power of a community praying together. In an arti-cle on Jesuits and the liturgy, Robert Taft SJ, professor emeritus of oriental liturgy at the Pontifical Oriental Institute in Rome, makes a distinction between freedom and obligation in Jesuit communal prayer. He points out that Ignatius did not want his men to be obligated to [25! 68.3 2009 Sbano ¯ Communal Examen celebrate the Hours regularly, but did want them to have the freedom to do this. He quotes a litde-known text. To his secretary, Juan de Polanco, Ignatius said: "We remain free to have choir when and where it may seem to contribute to God's greater service. Only the obligation is removed."5 In initiating the communal examen in my commu-nity, a Jesuit novitiate, my desire was that this exercise be truly communal. Early in our experience, we realized that, although we called it communal, it had a personal focus. As one member said, we were sitting with the others in a quiet space and praying about the week just past, but we were reflecting more on how "I" live in the community. The difference can be subtle, but our aim in our weekly examen is to move the primacy from "oneself in the community" to "ourselves as the com-munity." To that end I avoided using the pronoun "I" when I led the examen. The Method In our novitiate we keep the communal examen in .our weekly calendar. With few exceptions it takes place each Friday morning. We look in a prayerful and discerning way at the past week and then to the week coming up. The leader prepares the examen a day or two earlier, prayerfully considering what has been hap-pening. The leader asks himself: Where is the energy in the community? What are the Spirit's movements? Do people in the community look tired, or are they energized and upbeat? Are they engaged, or are they withdrawing? The leader has .tried to pick up the gen-eral flow of life in the community--at the dining-room table, in living-room conversations, in classes, at Mass, and so on. He does this not as an external observer, but Review for Religious as one of the community. He "listens" for subtle move-ments; he tries to be a discerning presence in the com-munity. (The leader should probably be the superior or some other person of authority in the group.) We spend about forty minutes on the communal exa-men. The first twenty or so are devoted to the guided examen. Then, after a transitional prayer, we begin our conversation, our dialogue. The guided examen uses the five elements of traditional conscious-ness examens. After an opening prayer, we begin with gratitude. Adapting Ignatius's words and making them relevant for this com-munity at this time, the guide invites the community to "give thanks to God our Lord for the benefits [we] have received" (SpEx §43). He simply and prayerfully reminds us of some of the highlights (either scheduled or spontaneous) in the community's life in the past week. After a few more guiding words, several minutes of silence follow, during which all get in touch with experiences for which they are grateful to God. The purpose of the leader's guiding words, of course, was to jog people's memories. Communities busy with many things may easily have forgotten some noteworthy things, or may have taken them for granted. Next the guide again offers, as at each stage, a few guiding points or questions and then leaves the group to silence. We pray for the enlightening grace to see our week as God's sees it and to use this time prayerfully. Third, and probably most significandy for the com- Did some event have a very positive and consoling effect on the community? 6g.3 2009 Sbano ¯ Communal Examen munity's discernment, we look again at things we are grateful for and then we pray for awareness of where and when we, as a community, experienced consolation or desolation, union of minds and hearts, or separation and isolation. What were significant moments in the community this week? Was there a lot of internal move-ment in the community because of a particular event? Which events are worthwhile for the community to go back and revisit, letting God's grace shine in a new way? My practice in this third step is to be as specific as pos-sible, especially if at some time energy and consolation were clearly present, or there were evident moments of desolation and a loss of energy. For instance, was there a very real source of tension in the community that week? Was there a jarring argument, or did a big public event cause concern? Did some event have a very positive and consoling effect on the community? In the fall of 2008, the election campaign in the United States was clearly having an impact on conver-sations in the living room and at table. Likewise, the community was not immune to the daily news of war, terrorism, economic turmoil, and political scandal. The ministry that novices were doing one or two days a week gave Mondays and Wednesdays a distincdy different feel at table than other days. There was usually an upbeat atmosphere as the men recounted experiences from their ministries. How do we let God's grace into the things that have an impact on the life of the community? All of this is fruit for prayerful reflection together. Our fourth step is to look at our sin as a commu-nity. That means looking to our relationships with one another or with others outside the community. It involves a look at our life as a community: Where or when are we wasteful of time or money, food or drink, electricity or Review for Religious paper? Where are we avoiding others? How are we as a community not attentive to our brothers and sisters in the city around us? What effect did the negative mood of one or two of us have on the rest of us? Are we hospi-table? As with the "discernment" step, it is helpful to be as specific as possible. In some areas we may know we are sinful or wonder whether we are. Perhaps a well-stocked refrigerator stands as a stark reminder of our difference from most peo-ple in the world. Or per-haps our garbage cans tell us something about our waste and the gifts we take for granted. Or maybe the fatigue and moodiness of one member has influenced all of us that week. If a community is honest, it does not take long to realize some communal sinfulness. Realization is one step. Sorrow is another. The final step is a hope-filled look at the week com-ing up, in the light of what we are learning about the week just ended. From what we know about our life together--both virtue and sinfulness--is there some-thing specific we should be especially attentive to? What special or ordinary events are coming up next week? Does anything there need special grace? What hopes and prayers do we have for next week? As with the earlier steps, here the leader offers a few guiding words and then leaves the group in silence. This much takes us about twenty minutes. After a simple transitional prayer, we go to the sec-ond part, the conversational examen, something notably different. The leader does not guide here. The members of the community raise points and offer reflections. The iMayhe the f ti ue and moodiness of one ,member has nfluenced all of us, 68.3 2009 Shano ¯ Communal Examen assumption is that they have thoughtfully focused on their life together and that their remarks will be more communal than personal. Dialogue is expected. The aim of this medium of exchange is to help the community itself grow in spirit and in practice. For instance, if one person says "I am disturbed by our community's sin of wastefulness," the hope is that others will respond either by asking for clarification or by adding their own obser-vations. Otherwise, an important opportunity for the community's growth has been missed. It is good when members recognize together how much the community has been in consolation, or deso-lation, in the wake of specific occurrences or choices. That can lead to shared thanksgiving and shared self-awareness (or community-awareness), or to shared sor-row for our communal sin and shared hope for the week coming up. Do we have commonly shared desires? That questi.on may involve subdeties that are hard to commu-nicate, but, when there is a prayerful disposition in the group, members can more easily hear one another. Some Other Things We Learned What have we learned about this trial-and-error exercise? First, the setting should be a prayerful one, but not overly prayerful. We used to conduct both phases in the chapel, but found that, understandably, it did not foster conversation. We took each other's words a little too sacredly there, and thus not communally enough. Then we tried using the chapel for the guided examen and a seminar table for the conversational section. That was all right, but it seemed two businesslike after our time in the chapel. Now we use a living room. The weekly communal examen helps us look at how we are living together in community: things that "work" Review for Religious by orienting us toward God and community, and things that lead to isolation and its attendant problems. Being a novitiate, we do that regularly anyhow, but the exa-men provides a prayerful setting for this to happen. It serves, in a way, as a weekly and prayerful community meeting. It offers us a chance to pray together in an easy way over the logistics and mechanics of how we actually live together. The weekly examen needs to have flexibility built into it. A good analogy is the personal consciousness examen. That prayerful habit changes and develops over time. Likewise, the communal examen needs to grow. A community looks and acts differently after a few months of living together.6 And, when new members move in, it changes and needs to develop new habits. Let me restate the obvious. The guides need to be in tune with the movements in the community. Their guid-ance questions cannot be generic or rote; they have to resonate with the community. Is there an ongoing issue that needs continual attention? VChat issue does this community need to attend to this week? In what ways are we in harmony with God's activity in the world? What do we need to be monitoring? Perhaps it is our tendency to overwork or overanalyze. Or are we weak at hospitality and just "wasting time" with one another and our guests? Do we neglect the playfulness or creative side of life in community? Do we mention the same discernments or the same kind or degree of sinfulness week after week? All of those things tell us something about how we are living. The communal examen needs to be adapted to this community's uniqueness. It can be a good way of being honest with one another. In our practice we end the exercise with a brief clos-ing prayer. I have thought, however, that it could be 68.3 2009 Shano * Communal Examen Guidance questions have to resonate with the community,: expanded, It could wrap up some of what we discussed in the second half. On the other hand, that may depend on whether the conversation has led to the resolution of something. Presumably, as time goes on, the group will deal better with issues that arise. In that regard, the hope for the communal examen is no different than people's hope that their personal praying of the exa-men of consciousness will help them keep growing and developing spiritually. One caution needs mentioning. Just because a com-munity is committed to the weekly examen does not mean that community members should store up issues till the formal exercise concludes another week. People should use the present moment and informal opportunities to deal with many things. The communal examen simply offers a chance to look back from the perspective of a week. It offers another occasion to commend or affirm each other--something that can happen naturally enough all week long. It may offer a better way of dealing with pat-terns of behavior. It can be a time of gende challenges to both individuals and community. It offers us the chance to take a long, loving look at our community living. More than thirty-five years ago George Aschenbrenner said, "We are talking about an experience in faith of growing sensitivity to the unique, intimately special ways that the Lord's Spirit has of approaching and call-ing us.''7 Over the decades, we have grown to recognize the need not only for me tO pray better but for us to pray together better.8 Review for Religioua Notes ' George A. Aschenbrenner sJ, "Consciousness Examen," Review for Religious 31 (1972): 14-21. Aschenbrenner wrote a follow-up article about the examen in Review for Religious 39 (May 1980): 321-324. 2 Ignatian Spiritual Exercises for the Corporate Person (ISECP) was founded in 1977 as a joint Canadian-American project involving several Jesuits and their colleagues working to bring together some insights and methods based on merging group dynamics/facilitation with the Ignatian Spiritual Exercises. It was based in the University of Scranton (Pennsylvania). The group still exists, under a new name and acronym, International Society of Community Engagement Professionals (ISCEP), based in Appleton, Wisconsin, with Judith A. Roemer OSF at the helm. Information and resources are available at www.iscep.org. 3 The Way Supplement 85 (Spring 1996), titled "Discerning Together." It offers articles by writers experienced in communal dis-cernment. It presents a way of doing communal discernment and deals with issues such as conflict, social sin and grace, and cross-cultural communication. q John English SJ, Spiritual Intimacy and Community: An Ignatian View of the Small Faith Community (London: Darton, Longrnan and Todd, 1992). 5 Juan de Polanco is quoted in Robert E Taft sJ, "Liturgy in the Life and Mission of the Society of Jesus," in Liturgy in a Postmodern World, ed. Keith Pecklers SJ (London and New York: Continuum, 2003), p. 51. 6 My experience is with a formation community that changes from year to year. The members, mostly novices, presumably change and grow amid new challenges and opportunities. The weekly examen will look a little different in a community that has more stability. 7 Aschenbrenner, "Consciousness Examen," p. 15. s Some of the ideas in this article are from my experience of working on the Leadership Formation Programme at Loyola House, Guelph, Canada, in the 1990s. This programme was offered prin-cipally to the Waterloo Region Roman Catholic Separate School Board. I acknowledge, too, my Jesuit novitiate community in St. Paul, Minnesota, USA, with whom I have been able to put into practice the communal examen. 68.3 2009 Shano ¯ Communal Examen Questions for Personal and Group Reflection 1. In our apostolic community, how might we adopt this approach to a communal examen that Philp Shano uses within a formation (novitiate) community? 2. What are the benefits to our way of living community life if we regularly schedule a communal examen? What are some pitfalls that we need to avoid if we regularly schedule a communal examen? I Confession We chase butterflies Fluttering fresh From the chrysalis of creation And entangle inarticulable wonders Of sorrow and delight In rough nets of words And pin them to the page. For the presumption, Lord Of our faded Lepidoptera Unable to survive The trauma of their capturing We ask forgiveness Even if not promising Never to sin again. Ian A.T. While Review for Religious LOUIS M. SAVARY Ignatius' s Contemplatio ad Amorem One of the most memorable experiences of the Ignatian Spiritual Exercises is its final exercise, commonly referred to in Latin as the Contemplatio ad Amorem.1 The title has been traditionally translated as "The Contemplation for Attaining Divine Love" or "The Contemplation to Reach Love," which is Jesuit Joseph Tetlow's interpretation.2 Notice that neither translation mistakenly says "obtaining" God's love, for Ignatius knows that we already are receiving that divine love in infinite abundance. Rather, in this experience Ignatius offers us a way to learn how to "reach for" and hopefully "attain" and "possess" the ability to love the way God loves. In line with this clarification, accord-ing to Jesuit George Aschenbrenner, some have sug-gested retitling this experience "Loving the Way God Loves."3 Louis M. Savary has given lectures and workshops on Teilhardian spirituality for many years. His address is 3404 Ellenwood Lane; Tampa, Florida 33618. lousavary@yahoo.com 68.3 2009 Savary ¯ Ignatius's Contemplatio ad Amorem Starting with the Contemplatio I have heard it secondhand that some well-respected Ignatian retreat directors, when presenting the Spiritual Exercises to those who have made the Exercises before, perhaps many times, begin with the Conternplatio. Starting at the end, though counterintuitive, seems an excellent idea, for at least three reasons. First of all, by beginning with the Contemplatio, sea-soned retreatants reconnect with where they left off the last time they made the Exercises. Reentering the Contemplatio during their first rediscover their wonder and cious presence in their lives, day in retreat, they quickly gratefulness at God's gra-and they recall the gener-ous and loving response they made to God in the "Take and Receive" prayer during earlier retreats. When they enter the First Week in this way, they are approaching the Exercises from a new vantage point, with gratitude and love for God renewed, and they are more likely to be open to making an ever greater (magis) offering of themselves to God during the coming days of prayer. The second reason comes from a beautiful insight of Michael J. Buckley SJ, who describes in his now famous article how Ignatius's four points of the Contemplatio recapitulate in succession the Four Weeks of the Exercises.4 By beginning an Ignatian retreat with the Contemplatio, the retreatants summarize--and anticipate, as it were--the various graces and spiritual dynamics they can look forward to during the coming "Weeks" of the Exercises.5 Third, other retreat directors have complained that they must sometimes spend a full day or two (of an eight-day retreat) just to help busy, stress-filled retreatants to slow down enough to experience God's presence. Beginning the retreat with the Conternplatio, Review for Religious the retreatants would probably feel immersed in God's presence upon noticing with greater awareness the coundess gifts of God they have been receiving in their daily lives. Two Spiritual Truths In his introduction to this contemplation, Ignatius wants us to be mindful of two spiritual truths. The first is that "love ought to manifest itself more by deeds than by words.''6 The second is that "love consists in mutual communication between the two per-sons. That is, the one who loves gives and communicates to the beloved what one has, or a part of what one has or can have; and the beloved in return ~ does the same to the lover. Thus, if one has knowledge, one gives it to the other who does not; and similarly in regard to honors and riches. Each shares with the other." What Ignatius describes here is the way God, as Lover, loves. God's loving is an unconditionally gener-ous sharing of the divine life with all that he loves. And the sharing is done in deeds, not just in words. The grace we are to seek in this contemplation is not primarily gratitude and wonder at realizing how unconditionally God loves us, though this is a very nat-ural response. To stop there is to miss the main point. The grace we want is to respond appropriately to this divine Lover. To this end Ignatius, the great "technician Thel gra.ke We are to seek in this contemplation is not primarily gratitude and wonder at realizing how ,unconditionally God loves us. 263 68.3 2009 Savaty ¯ Ignatius's Contemplatio ad Amorem 2 41 of the sacred," designed this experience in four stages. At each stage he asks us (1) to observe closely the way God loves us and (2) to put into practice our love of God and the rest of creation in a similarly unconditional and generous way. In this contemplation, Ignatius has us observe God's love at four points, which I prefer to call stages, for at each there is an advance. At the first, we note God giv-ing us gifts. At the second, we note that God is pres-ent in the gifts and even in. the gift of our very selves. At the third stage, we take notice of God continuously acting (and laboring) in and through those gifts and in and through ourselves as well. Finally, at the fourth and fullest stage, we realize that God is personally sharing the divine Life with us. We find ourselves loved com-pletely and desiring to return that love in the complete way that God loves us.8 Four Developmental Stages The first stage of showing love is the giving of a gift in the form of a tangible object, like a carefully cho-sen birthday present. Ignatius expects not only that we will feel wonder and gratitude at the gifts a passionately loving God has given us, but also that we will hope to give gifts in return--as lavishly as we can. Even at this first stage, Ignatius brings in the theme of magis that permeates the Exercises. For Ignatius, actions are not done merely for the glory of God, but for the greater glory of God. No matter what we do for God, we yearn to do more.9 The second stage of showing love adds presence to the gift. The Giver does not simply hand over the gift and then leave, but remains present in the gift and is present to the recipient opening it. Review for Religious The third stage of showing love adds personal inter-action with the gift and with the recipient. The Giver does not merely stand by as the beloved opens the gift, but interacts with the gift and the person, perhaps by subtly showing him or her how the gift operates or can be used. The fourth stage of showing love goes much further. It is about sharing oneself--becoming one with the beloved. That is, (1) the tangible gift, (2) the divine presence, and (3) the divine interaction with the recipient indicate (4) that God wants to share the divine Life with the beloved's life; there is a bonding. In this contemplation we do not observe and reflect on these four stages of loving only to unite us and God in a kind of private spiritual communion. Such commu-nion is a wonderful thing, but it is only a preliminary result. Ignatius wants more. He wants us to be with God while these four ways of God loving us and all of creation are being shown to us, and then he wants us to ask God what, in a similar fourfold manner, God has in mind for us to do. This goes beyond a spiritual-ity focused simply on "me and God." It stretches us to include all human beings and all creation in our four stages of loving. Inspiring Teilhard de Chardin The Jesuit Pierre Teilhard de Chardin dedicated his revolutionary spirituality book The Divine Milieu "to those who love the world."1° Teilhard, a true son of Ignatius and pray-er of the Contemplatio, saw no con-tradiction between loving God with all our heart and soul and loving the human family and all of creation with all our heart and soul. For Teilhard, the human family and all of creation were, in fact, the living Body 68.3 2009 Savary * Ignatius's Contemplatio ad Amorem of the Cosmic Christ. To love that Body is to love its Head, for the two are one being. The Divine Milieu can be summed up as a spirituality that shows us, as Ignatius would say, how "to find God in all things." Teilhard's spirituality begins with the Contemplatio and develops it to new heights. Like Ignatius, Teilhard would have us not avoid the world or try to withdraw from it (as many traditional spiritualities would have us do), but plunge into it with mind and heart for love of Christ. George Aschenbrenner, like most contemporary skilled and experienced interpreters of the Exercises, has been influenced consciously or unconsciously by Teilhard's thought on the integration of the sacred and the secular. It is a stretch to believe that Ignatius could have written in the 16th century the following para-graph of Aschenbrenner's, but he would have if alive today: The Ignatian pilgrim mysticism of service finds God in all things by entering carefully into the tangled human situation rather than by withdrawing from it. The special contemplative nature of this expe-rience [the Contemplatio] makes the service always radically religious, however secular it may appear. This radically grateful religious service can heal the sacred-secular split in your experience that often saps apostolic energy. ~l This perspective of finding and loving God in all things permeates the four stages of the Ignatian Contemplatio. To forget this "all things" perspective is to miss the grandeur and greatness of God's salvific plan for his creation. The First Stage of Loving: Giving Gifts At the first stage of the Contemplatio, Ignatius tells us that God gives gifts. He has said that love is shown Review for Religious in action. Giving gifts is an action; it is more than words. All of creation is God's gift to us. Creation is the Original Blessing. Teilhard would tell us to begin to list these divine gifts that science has revealed to us--including gifts that Ignatius in his day had litde or no awareness of, or of how and when they were given. For example, Ignatius had no sense of the vastness and almost fourteen-bil-lion- year existence of the universe with its galaxies, stars, planets--many hundreds of billions of them. Today, with the help of science in all its forms, we have come to recognize that God's original act of cre-ation has been continually evolving. Original simple particles at the Big Bang were attracted to other par-ticles to form connections and unions. As these new unions kept attracting other unions, creation evolved to higher levels of complexity. New chemical elements, more complex than those before, kept appearing. Over eons insects, fish, reptiles, plants, grasses, trees, and ani-mals appeared. Finally, hominids evolved. Over many hundred thousands of years, and before homo sapiens, many hominid forms came into existence and then became extinct. Eventually humans created language, art, and music, forms of government, science, literature, and all the other elements of civilization and culture. And still evolution continues. Even St. Paul recognized that divine creation is still incomplete, still in process.12 Through discoveries in science and technology, we have come to recognize in our limited way the fundamental law driving evolution-ary creation--another gift of God. We have come to recognize the evolutionary law of attraction-connec-tion- complexity-consciousness that God has placed in every particle he created, and that this law is designed to 68.3 2009 Savary * Ignatius's Contemplatio ad Amorem culminate in the spiritualization of all matter.~3 Through our faith we believe that all creation lives in, with, and through God in a divine milieu, and that there is noth-ing outside this divine milieu.~4 On the microscopic side, science has revealed the incredible complexity and activ-ity of each living being--the human genome, the tril-lions of cells that live in our bodies, each with its own highly complex intra-active life. Ignatius, of course, recognizes the gift of Earth itself, and so do we: all the beauties of mountains, plains, and skies, all the power of tornadoes, hurri-canes, tidal waves, floods, deserts, and frozen tundra. Nor can we forget the gifts humans have been able to give to each other and back to God, gifts such as civi-lization, music, art, literature, society, communication, transporta-tion, recreation, science, mathematics, architecture, entertainment, film, radio, television, computers. The technologies developed in the past century would have astounded Ignatius. We can add to Ignatius's list all the gifts we have personally received--family, talents, skills, education, opportunities, friends. Along with these are our five senses, our memory, intelligence, and willpower, our freedom to love and make commitments, our accom-plishments, our team building, our worship. For Ignatius, these four capacities of the human mind and, spirit. liberty, memory, understanding/ and will-areothe greatest gift we can offer to God,, Review for Religious Ignatius created his "Take and Receive" prayer to end each of the four stages of this Contemplatio. We can see how it summarizes especially the first of the four stages of the contemplation. We bring gifts to God, the gifts of our liberty, memory, understanding, and will. They are the best of what any human possesses: "You have given them to me; I return them to you, Lord. Everything is yours. Dispose of it all according to your will. Give me the grace to love you, and that is enough for me.''Is For Ignatius, these four capacities of the human mind and spirit--liberty, memory, understand-ing, and will--are the greatest gift we can offer to God. Today a psychologist might suggest adding things such as my imagination, my creativity, my physical energy, my talents, the skills I have developed, my contacts, my influence, my financial resources, and my experience. The Second Stage of Loving: Presence At the second stage, in Ignatius's words, "I will consider how God dwells [is present] in creatures; in the elements, giving them existence; in the plants, giv-ing them life; in the animals, giving them sensation; in human beings, giving them intelligence; and finally, how in this way he dwells also in myself, giving me existence, life, sensation, and intelligence; and even further, mak-ing me his temple, since I am created as a likeness and image of the Divine Majesty" (SpEx §2 3 5). We can for-mulate a prayer appropriate to this experience of loving presence. The "Take and Receive" prayer does not quite capture literally this second stage of loving, namely, that, in response to God's loving presence to me, my own presence to God is a loving gift in return. Although, traditionally, directors suggest that the "Take and Receive" prayer be repeated at each of the four stages, 269 68.3 2009 Savary * Ignatius's Contemplatio ad Amorem Ignatius allows the retreatant to proceed "in the manner described in the first point, or in any other way I feel to be better.'n7 Perhaps such a second-stage prayer, emphasizing mutual presence, might go something like this: Just as you, God, remain present in your gifts--giv-ing them existence, life, and purpose--and just as you remain present to me, I choose to remain actively pres-ent in the gifts I offer to you, God, by not wasting them or disregarding them or neglecting to use them, but rejoicing in using them for your purposes and for your greater glory. In my loving of you, I wish also to remain present to you. To do this, I beg the grace to remain conscious that I am working side by side with you and with Christ helping to build the Great Christ Body. The Third Stage of Loving: Cooperative Interaction The third stage of loving focuses on personal inter-action. In Ignatius's words, "I will consider how God labors and works for me in all the creatures on the face of the earth; that is, he acts in the manner of one who is laboring. For example, he is working in the heavens, elements, plants, fruits, catde, and all the rest--giving them their existence, conserving them, concurring with their vegetative and sensitive activities, and so forth" (SpEx §236). God keeps, acting in and through those gifts, as well as in and through the beloved. God does not just act once and then stop. God continues acting and interacting at every moment with, in, and through the gifts of creation. By that continuous action, creation grows and develops; it becomes more complex and con-tinues to evolve in consciousness. For us to love in the same interactive way, we need to keep acting and interacting with the gifts we already possess and the gifts we are still being given so as to Review for Religious help creation to grow and evolve in complexity and con-sciousness. Here it is appropriate to formulate a prayer of sustained commitment to use our gifts to grow per-sonally and to encourage similar growth in those with whom we interact. This third stage of loving invites a new stage of prayer, one of interactive commitment beyond the "Take and Receive" prayer. It might be something like this: Ever-working God, in reflecting on your almost four-teen billion years of divine revelation and original blessing, I have come to recognize the law of attrac-tion- connection-complexity-consciousness that you have placed in me and in every particle of matter you created, and that this law is designed to culminate in the spiritual transformation of all matter. Therefore I dedicate myself, for your greater glory, to growing in complexity and consciousness by working alongside others--in Christ--with those talents and gifts you have given me. I will strive to find ever-new ways to spiritualize the material things in my life. The Fourth Stage of Loving: Mutual Indwelling At the fourth stage, in Ignatius's words, "I will con-sider how all good things and gifts descend from above; for example, my limited power from the supreme and infinite power above; and so of justice, goodness, piety, mercy, and so forth--just as the rays come down from the sun, or the rains from their source" (SpEx §2 3 7). God shares the divine Self with the beloved. God does not only give gifts that are external to himself, as it were, but gives himself to us as an involved, interactive personal presence--like the sun's rays are giving us the sun itself, bringing an active and interactive presence. The incarnation of the divine Word is one way God shares the divine Self and demonstrates this fourth stage 271 68.3 2009 Savary ¯ Igngtius's Contemplatio ad Amorem 272 of loving. Christ's mystical incarnation in the Eucharist is another self-giving of God to us. In the Universal Christ we are offered a way to reciprocate this self-giv-ing love, so that with St. Paul we can say, "I no longer live, but I am alive in Christ.''7 At the fourth stage of showing love, Ignatius wants us to learn to live our day and our destiny within God the Beloved. We live out our day within and alongside our Beloved, that is, we remain present in the gifts we offer to God, acting in and through those gifts as well as in and through the Beloved. When Ignatius speaks of "finding God in all things," he is talking not about finding a mere Presence and qui-etly resting in it. That famous expression means much more. It means being with God all day long in our daily duties and activities, doing each thing with God and in God. After all, at every moment God is keeping every-thing in being, from the smallest microbe to the farthest galaxy. God and we are acting and working side by side (stage three) and as one (stage four). We are building the kingdom of God together--God in me and I in God.~8 In this way we become "contemplatives in action." As Aschenbrenner points out, "A busy disciple encounters many people in a great variety of situations, but the direct, immediate encounter is always with the Divine Majesty. A mysticism of service stretches your soul in an awareness of the fidelity of God's loving service to you.''~9 To express in prayer this fourth way of loving, we might say something like this: O Great God, I no longer wish to live and simply work for you. My deepest desire and the grace I ask is that I may live consciously in you and with you and, in Christ, that I may realize that my primary privi-lege and honor is to be a cell in the Cosmic Body of Christ. I wish to live and work no longer just as me, Review for Religious but consciously as belonging to Christ--on our way to you. I desire to know and see how the Christ Body as a whole is working toward its fulfillment, and I wish to cooperate consciously and ever more gener-ously with whatever you wish and desire. Something that has always surprised me about the Exercises is that, although Ignatian spirituality in gen-eral is quite Eucharistic,2° there is little or no mention of receiving the Eucharist or of the Eucharist's centrality in Catholic Christian liturgy and life. To me, the Eucharist provides the simplest and most profound synthesis of the Contemplatio, since it integrates simultaneously the four stages of that contemplation, namely, Eucharist as gift, presence, active working, and mutual indwelling. When the Cosmic Christ who lives today comes to the altar during the celebration of the Mass, there we find God in all things and all things in him. Notes 1 In the Latin "Versio Litteralis" of Ignatius's Spanish text of the Exercises, the Contemplatio is titled "Contemplatio ad Obtinendum Amorem." The Latin verb obtinere is not to be simply transliterated as "to obtain" or "to get," but rather means "to have" or "to possess." Interestingly, in the "Versio Vulgata" from Ignatius's lifetime, the tide is "Conwmplatio ad Amorem Spiritualem" followed by the words "in nobis excitandum" (to be aroused in us) in small print. 2 See Joseph A. Tedow SJ, Ignatius Loyola: Spiritual Exercises (New York: Crossroad, 1992), p. 145. 3 George A. Aschenbrenner SJ, Stretched for Greater Glory: What to Expect from the Spiritual Exercises (Chicago: Loyola Press, 2004), p. 134. 4 Michael J. Buckley SJ, "The Contemplation to Attain Love," Way Supplement 24 (Spring 1975): 92-104. s For another development of this correlation, see Aschenbrenner, Stretched for Greater Glory, pp. 141-146. 6 SpEx §230. Unless otherwise noted, translated excerpts of the Spiritual Exercises are from George E. Ganss SJ, The Spiritual Exercises of Saint Ignatius (Chicago: Loyola Press, 1992). 68.3 20O9 Savary * Ignatius's Contemplatio ad Amorem 7 Tedow, Ignatius, p. 145. 8 Although Tedow lists these as "four points on how God loves" (p. 145) and shows how they are distinct from each other, I feel he does not adequately show their developmental or evolutionary character. 9 In the Exercises, magis typically means choosing one of two or more authentic goods as more (magis) conducive to God's glory than the others. Once a person has chosen the magis in a major decision (such as a life path or career), magis in later retreats can pertain to whether one is continually improving one's skills, cooperation, generosity, and so forth. 10 Pierre Teilhard de Chardin SJ, The Divine Milieu (New York: Harper & Row, 1960). The complete dedication ironically juxtaposes two expressions: "Sic Deus Dilexit Mundum: For Those Who Love the World." 11 Aschenbrenner, Stretching, p. 147. 12 See Ep 1:10, Col 2:19. t3 Teilhard discusses this law extensively in his Phenomenon of Man. See also my book Teilbard de Chardin: The Divine Milieu Explained (New York: Paulist Press, 2007), esp. pp. 27ff. ~4 See Paul's speech in Ac 17:22-31. is Note that this final sentence of the Suscipe prayer, here taken from the Versio Vulgata, differs from that in the ~rsio Litteralis, which translated reads: "Give me your love and your grace, for that is enough for me." In the Vulgata, the sentence is about my love for God (that is, about learning how to love the way God loves); in the Litteralis, it is a prayer asking God to love me. See Thesaurus Spiritualis Societatis Jesu (Rome: Jesuit Curia, 1953), pp. 226-228, §234. 16 SpEx §235. In the Thesaurus Spiritualis, Father Jan Roothaan SJ, focusing in his footnote on the word "better," suggests a response dif-ferent from the "Take and Receive" prayer of the first point, a response that might better recognize the advance--the magis--reflected in this point's theme of presence. In later notes Roothaan makes similar sug-gestions, that colloquies reflect the magis, expressing increasing love in successive points. t7 See Ga 2:20. is If Ignatius were alive today, he might nuance his position to agree with many New Testament scholars who would probably use a different rhetoric here. They might want to make a distinction between building the kingdom of God and building the City of God. They would prefer to see God as the one who builds the kingdom or reign of God, with us humans offering our essential cooperation and contributions. And they Review for Religious might prefer to see us humans primarily focused on building the City of God, with God's total involvement, of course. Teilhard might solve the issue by saying that in Christ and with the Father we are together working to fulfill the divine project (the kingdom of God). In any case, Ignatius sees building the kingdom as a joint project. Also see Juan Luis Segundo, The Christ of the Ignatian Exerdses (New York: Orbis Books, 1987), pp. 90-103. ,9 Aschenbrenner, Stretching, p. 139. 20 For example, Ignatius urged members of the Society to attend Mass much more frequently than was usual in the church at that time. He celebrated Mass daily for discernment in composing the Society's Constitutions. He and his early companions took their first vows at Montmartre in Paris during Mass, and, when the Society was officially approved, they renewed their vows at Mass in St. Paul's Outside the Walls in Rome. A Prayer Response Lord, once again I ask: which is the more precious of these two beatitudes, that all things are means through which I can touch you, or that you yourself are so "universal" that I can experience you and lay hold on you in every creature? Some think to make you more lovable in my eyes by praising almost exclusively the charm and the kindness of your human face as men saw it long ago on earth. But if I sought only a human being to cherish, would I not turn to those whom you have given me here and now in all the charm of their flowering? Do we not all have around us irresistibly lovable mothers, brothers, sisters, friends? Why should we go searching the Judaea of two thousand years ago? No, what I cry out for, like every other creature, with my whole being, and even with all my passionate earthly longings, is something very different from an equal to cherish: It is a God to adore. The Divine Milieu [275 68.3 2009 Job's Difficult Transformation spiritual growth 2761 It seems that the story of Job never fails to capture readers' interest. To a greater or lesser degree, Job's experience reflects our experience. In The Book of Job,~ Stephen Mitchell provides both a dynamic introduction and a captivating translation of the biblical book. This article engages some of Mitchell's themes--such as submission, surrender, innocent suffering, pun-ishment, being a victim, and justice--as they relate to Mitchell's understanding of Job's main theme, transformation (Mitchell, p. xxix). I agree with that main theme, and I also think transformation is the theme of the sto-ries of all of us. This theme comprises and unites many other themes. Suffering--indeed, tremendous suffering--starts Job's transforma-tion and involves others: his wife and friends. Marian Maskulak CPS is an assistant professor of Theology and Religious Studies (with a special interest in spirituality) at St. John's University; 8000 Utopia Parkway; Queens, New York 11439. The transformation moves from the innocent, submis-sive, and fearful Job to the rebellious and more compas-sionate Job, and it culminates in the Job who surrenders his whole being to God. Transformation requires hon-est acknowledgment of one's thoughts and feelings, and includes a growing understanding of God, oneself, and the world and a letting go of many previous ideas. Job comes to understand that limited and often narrow con-cepts of morals and justice are not to be ascribed to God, that innocent suffering is neither victimization nor punishment by a wrathful god, and that suffering and justice remain within the mystery of creation's God, for whom there is neither past nor future. The Bible's Book of Job consists of a prose prologue based on an ancient legend, the poem that constitutes the body of the book, and a prose epilogue. The pro-logue presents Job as a good, innocent, and God-fearing man who is enjoying a blessed and prosperous life. In a meeting between God and the Accuser, the latter con-tends that, if God takes away all that Job has, Job will curse God. God then allows hardship to befall Job: the loss of his children and his many possessions. Through all of this, Job remains steadfast in his conviction that God 'gave him all he had and then took it away. He lies with his face in the dust, as though prostrate before God, and blesses God. A second meeting between God and the Accuser results in God's allowing Job to be physically afflicted, short of death. Tormented from head to toe with boils, Job still refuses to curse God and maintains that, just as he has accepted good fortune from God, he must now accept bad fortune. This time Job sits in the dust. It soon comes to light that Job may better be described as a good, innocent, and "god-fearing" man who is unaware of his false conception of God. [277 68.3 2009 Maskulak ¯ Job's Difficult Tran~Cormation 278 The contrast between submission and surrender is important for Mitchell. The Job of the prologue "submits" to his plight, to the superior force of God. Mitchell suggests that one might agree with Job's wife who says: "How long will you go on clinging to your innocence? Curse God, and die" (pp. viii, 8). Mitchell does not develop this thought further, but it suggests two ideas to me. First, Job's wife has been suffering along with Job in "their" pain and loss. She knows that their experience of pain, sorrow, frustration, anger, and despair wants to cry out in fury. Life experience has also shown her that people who curse God do not automati-cally "die." On one level, Job's wife is challenging him to be a human being and to express his anguish and outrage. It is only by acknowledging one's true thoughts and feelings that one can appropriate them and grow. Mitchell recognizes this: "For any transformation to occur, Job has to be willing to let his hidden anxieties become manifest. He must enter the whirlwind of his own psychic chaos before he can hear the Voice" (p. ix). Second, Job's wife chailenges him by asking how long he is going to cling to his innocence. Here, perhaps, is the crux of Job's problem, as well as that of his friends. Rather than clinging to God, Job i~ clinging to "his innocence" and "his notion" of what he deserves, or how God should act because of his innocence. Job is authentically innocent, but even good qualities or prac-tices can become idolatry when they and one's own self become the focus instead of God. When Job finally cries out against God, his friends cling to this same notion that God must act in a pre-dictably benevolent way if one is truly innocent. It is as though being "innocent," being "good enough," requires God to act in cert~ain ways. This can be a disguised or Review for Religious subde way of trying to control or manipulate God. Even in the midst of his crying out, when his submissive self is left behind, Job "clings" to his innocence: "I will hold tight to my innocence; my mind will never submit" (p. 64). Ultimately God does not address Job's innocence at all. It is Job's truthfulness that God commends in the epilogue. According to Mitchell, Job's motive for goodness is, at first, fear of punishment and, after being stricken, fear of even worse consequences. Agreeing with Jung's assessment that the god of the prologue is morally infe-rior to Job, Mitchell concludes that the legend must not be taken too seriously: the god of the prologue and the Accuser are soon left behind (pp. ix-xii). Mitchell does not question why the author included the legend rather than omitting it altogether. One rea-son would be that the familiar story was a means for contrasting the poem's insights. I would suggest that the god of the prologue describes Job's god. This god, appearing as the cavalier business-god sitting at the top of the corporate ladder, is a good match for the Job whom Mitchell calls the "perfect moral business-man" (p. ix). I would also submit that this was the god of many of the author's audience as well. And since, as Mitchell points out, the patient Job of the legend rather than the desperately impatient Job of the poem became proverbial in Western culture (p. viii), it seems Even good qualities or ¯. ,practi~es can become idolatry ~, wh~en they :and one s own self ~ ~ bec~ome t~hefocus instead of God. 68.3 2009 Maskulak ¯ ~ob'~ Difficult Transformation that this god has remained alive and well over the cen-turies. This god of the prologue bears no resemblance to the God of creation, the God of the burning bush, the God of deliverance from Egypt, and certainly not the God of the whirlwind to be revealed. Job's wife is right. This god needs to be cursed, and that part of Job which believed in this god must surely die. Job's companions, who have appeared briefly but silently in the prologue, do not agree with Job's wife. They never abandon the god of the prologue, and so, when they do speak, they provide crucial stimulus to Job's transformation. In Mitchell's view, Job's friends are supporting actors repeating the same arguments over and over. Because Job's questioning challenges their view of God and the world, they actually speak to their own fears rather than to Job. Mitchell believes that, while defending God's justice, they show that their god is a harsh judge executing their own harsh judgments. Mitchell makes an excellent point when he states, "Any idea about God, when pursued to its extreme, becomes insanity" (pp. xiv-xv). I believe, however, that, even when not pressed to an extreme, all perceptions of God are limited. I think that Job's friends play a greater role in the poem than Mitchell assigns them. For example, they are probably articulating Job's own theology up to this point in his life. Job himself admits, "I too could say such things if you were in my position" (p. 44). Another example is that Eliphaz highlights the Jewish theme of "the victim" when he points out that Job brought relief to many others and now it is his turn to be the victim (p. 17). Reflection on this thought alone raises more ques-tions. Does Job really believe that all the many people he helped in their misery were being punished for their sins? Probably so. But will he continue to believe it? Review for Religious One's view of the suffering of others is never the same once one has to grapple with one's own suffering. Part of the transformation that takes place in Job is apparent in his focus on the suffering of human beings in gen-eral instead of on his own suffering. Does Job continue to believe that people are victims of God's wrath? Not after experiencing the God of the whirlwind. As long as Job remains silent, his friends appropri-ately and compassionately remain quiet also. But as soon as Job cries out they cry out in return. They are not able to extend their silence of the first seven days into silent compassionate listening. This calls into question the amount of true compassion in their original silence. Mitchell says they have never experienced God (p. xiii), but it may also be true that they have never experienced extreme suffering. Job does suffer severely, which leads him to question God. "His question, the harrowing question of some-one who has only heard of God, is 'Why me?'" (p. xv). Mitchell calls this the wrong question, but does not say why. I believe that the "Why me?" question is too self-centered. It places the self over and against God, rather than in relationship with God. It clings to that argument, which says, "If I am good, if I am innocent, this should not happen to me." Or more pointedly, "If I am good and innocent, you should not be doing this to me." Later Mitchell sheds light on what the "right" question would have been when he writes that a question is answered which Job "wouldn't have known how to ask. God will not hear Job, but Job will see God" (p. xviii). His "see-ing" of God might better be understood as his "experi-encing" of God. I suggest that the "right" response might be "Who are you, God? And who am I in relation to you?" Or, more simply, "Reveal yourself to me." 281 68.3 2009 Maskulak ¯ j~ob's Difficult Transformation Anger or hate can ,be indicative of an underlying love. 2821 Mitchell claims that Job's outrage could not be so intense if he did not truly love God. He does not say whether he thinks the "moral businessman" of the pro-logue loves God. Rather, he compares Job to Othello, whose honesty cannot deny betrayal and whose love cannot believe it. Job accuses God for the injustice in the world, yet he senses some kind of ultimate justice (p. xvii). I agree that Job loves God. If Job did not care about God, he would not go on and on crying out. As Elie Wiesel has pointed out, indif-ference is more dan-gerous than hatred or anger.2 In a rela-tionship, anger or hate can be indica-tive of an underlying love that a person wants to be restored. As he cries out to God, Job is far from being indifferent. But, more importantly, Job is beginning to trust in God's love for him. Once the Job of the poem starts speaking out, he realizes that God is not punishing him for his accusa-tions. This gives him courage to become even bolder and more authentic. Although .it is not articulated in the poem, I believe that Job's love for God and his growing understanding of God's love for him are a crucial part of his transformation. God's response to this developing love is not, as has sometimes been perceived, the demand of unques-tioning submission. Mitchell rejects the interpretation which summarizes God's response from the whirlwind as "How dare you question the creator of the world? Shut up now, and submit" (p. xviii). He contends that there are answers to human suffering beyond theological Review for Religious propositions, but that the questioner must let them in. For Mitchell, the only answers to the great questions of life and death are personal ones, because the whole being of the person is involved (pp. xviii-xix). This is similar to Viktor Franld's belief that each person must find his or her own meaning in life, and his or her own meaning in suffering too.3 God's questions from the whirlwind ultimately dissi-pate all that Job thought he knew. "In order to approach God, Job has to let go of all ideas about God" (p. fix). Mitchell further understands God's questions as provid-ing Job with a vision filled with primal energy. It is a God's-eye view of creation before [human beings], beyond good and evil, marked by the inno-cence of mind that has stepped outside the circle of human values . What the Voice means is that para-dise isn't situated in the past or future, and doesn't require a world tamed or edited by the moral sense. It is our world, when we perceive it clearly, without eat-ing from the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. It is an experience of Sabbath vision: looking at reality, the world of starving children and nuclear menace, and recognizing that it is very good (pp. xx-xxi). Upon my initial reading, this last statement par-ticularly came as a shock. My reaction was "No, the world of starving children and nuclear menace is not good!" I want to compartmentalize and say that the world as God made it is good, but children's starvation and nuclear menace in themselves are not good. Only by God's grace can they become the occasion for good. Mitchell seems to agree somewhat when he later writes that someone "who hungers and thirsts after justice is not satisfied with a menu. It is not enough for him to hope or believe or know that there is absolute justice in the universe: he must taste and see it. It is not enough 283 68.3 2009 Maskulak * ~ob's Difficult TransJbrmation 284 that there may be justice someday in the golden haze of the future: it must be now; must always have been now" (p. xxviii). Between his paragraph above and the sentence just above, Mitchell says there are no accidents and no vic-tims. He believes that, rather than being cruel, his state-ment reflects that, when one surrenders one's personal will and thus can see that all that God created is good, the past and future disappear (p. xxvii). This surrender to God is a surrender into mystery. He gives no other answer for why the innocent suffer. I can understand that from his chosen vantage point he can "see" that reality as a timeless whole is good--even with all its violence, starvation, nuclear menace, and so forth. But I still maintain that violence, the starvation of children, and nuclear menace are not good. Mitchell is bold and precise in his paraphrasing of questions about good and evil posed by God's voice in the whirlwind: "Do you really want this moral sense of yours projected onto the universe? it asks, in effect. Do you want a god who is only a larger version of a righteous judge, rewarding those who don't realize that virtue is its own reward and throwing the wicked into a physical hell? If that's the kind of justice you're look-ing for, you'll have to create it yourself. Because that is not my justice" (p. xxiii). These words make it clear that Mitchell believes that limited or narrow human concepts of morals and justice are not to be placed on God. An example that comes to mind is the parable of the vineyard workers, in which all receive the same wage regardless of how long they worked (Mt 20:1-16). Human "justice" might overlook the broader plight of those left in the marketplace all day with no work (perhaps because they appeared to be the least capable Reviev for Religious workers), who nevertheless needed to provide for them-selves and their families. In other words, human "jus-tice" often lacks compassion and a wider perspective. Mitchell states that the Beast and the Serpent in the final section of the poem are presented as God's playthings and that they challenge those who do not acknowledge God's destructive side (pp. xxiii-xxiv). This calls to mind the passage: "All you beasts, wild and tame, bless the Lord; praise and exalt him above all forever" . (Dn 3:81 NAB). Creation praises God by simply being what it is, and some of creation can be quite violent or devastating. What are the effects of Job's experience of God in the whirlwind? Does he repent? Does he submit? Mitchell disagrees with (mis-)translations of Job's final speech which have him say he "abhors" himself and "repents" in dust and ashes. He maintains that the idea conveyed is that Job "rejects" everything he said, and is "comforted by" his mortality. (pp. xxv, xxxii). Having received his answer, Job is "awe-stricken in the face of overwhelming beauty and dread" (p. xxvi). Rather than "submission," Mitchell stresses that Job's words rise from "surrender"--"a wholehearted giving-up of one-self" (p. xxvii). Surrendering oneself to God is indeed a strong act of one's free will. In the prose epilogue, Mitchell notes that Job's chil-dren appear to be the same children as in the prologue, as though they have sprung back to life (p. xxix). In Creation praises God by simply being what it is, and some of creation can be quite violent or devastating. 68.3 2009 Maskulak ¯ ~ob's Difficult Transformation 28_61 my reflection on the epilogue, a similar thought came to me via a line from Viktor Frankh "What you have experienced, no power on earth can take from you.''4 During times of suffering, human beings tend to focus entirely on their pain, loss, and so forth. This is not to deny the very real need for people to grieve their losses and attend to their pain. But at some point, in order to "move on," there needs to be a shift in the focus. I believe that, despite actual loss, whatever good some-one "had" he or she somehow still "has." One's experi-ences of good people and good things remain part of one's being, part of who one "is." Job's fulfillment does not depend on the actual reappearance of his children. He has seen and understood the "bigger picture" of life. One might challenge this view by saying that it then follows that the bad or evil of a person's life also still remains part of who he or she is. I would argue, from the philosophical axiom that bad or evil itself is a "lack," that a person never "had" something which was itself a "lack." Finally, Mitchell notes the prominence of Job's daughters in the epilogue, suggesting a shift from the righteousness and control of the male world to the beauty and peace of the feminine. Interestingly enough, he believes that the feminine, which had been denigrated in the prologue's reference to Job's wife, is now acknowledged and honored in the epilogue (p. xxx). This brings me back to my suggestion that there may be more to the advice given by Job's wife than first meets the eye. Upon reading the prologue one might ask, "Who needs a wife like that?" It seems that the answer may be "Everybody." Why? To challenge us to leave the narrow confines of our comfortable, even if good, perceptions of ourselves, others, life, and God, in Review for Religious order to grow and to be transformed into the fullness of being to which God calls us. The story of Job is a story of transformation--a story of surrender, a story of letting go. Job has to let go of people and possessions very dear to him, he has to let go of his own health, and, perhaps most difficult for a good and innocent person who loves God, he has to let go of his image and understanding of God. Each of these movements entails a considerable amount of suffering. Job's transformation unfolds through his suffering, his interaction with his wife and friends, and his honest acknowledgment of his own convictions and feelings in relation to God. The culmination is his unexpected face-to- face encounter with God. This encounter causes Job to surrender to God and to reject his notions that suffer-ing is punishment for sin or victimization by a wrathful god. The reader senses that Job leaves his encounter with God as a changed person, and full of peace. Yet one still wants to ask, "So what is the reason for innocent suffering?" Job is content, but why aren't we? Could it be that the answer is revealed only to one who, like Job, has truly grappled with suffering and with God? Would it have been enough for Job to discover that human suppositions regarding innocent suffering are incorrect? Would it be enough for anyone? What is the "pull," the fascination, of this "wrong question" when the answer seems to lie instead in a vivid encoun-ter with God that leads to complete surrender? God's speech began with: "Who is this whose igno-rant words smear my design with darkness?" (p. 79). In another context dealing with relationship, Antoine de Saint-Exup~ry writes, "Words are the source of mis-understandings.'' 5 There is more to life and suffering than words can explain. The "more" involves a personal 287 68.3 2009 Maskulak ¯ Job's Difficult Transformation encounter with God in which all other considerations become secondary. God invites us into that personal encounter by way of transformation and surrender. God is. We need not fear. God knows the why of suffering. For God all things, all times, all places, are. In that mys-tery, all of God's creation is very good. Notes I Stephen Mitchell, The Book of Job (New York: Harper Perennial, 1992). 2 Elie Wiesel, "The Perils of Indifference," 12 April 1999, The Official Site of the Presidential Medal of Freedom. ~ Viktor Frankl, Man's Search for Meaning (New York: Washington Square Press, 1984): see pp. 121,131. 4 Frankl, p. 104; see also p. 175. s Antoine de Saint-Exup~ry, The Little Prince (New York: Harcourt Brace and Co., 1971), p. 70. Questions for Personal and Group Reflection 1. Give myself the project of reading the Book of Job. 2. Do you find Maskulak's way of understanding Job a help in you own relationship with God? Review for Religious JAMES W. KINN The Central Paradox of John of the Cross ;all of John of the Cross's works, one unique para-raph is critical for our understanding of his entire teaching about the beginning of contemplation. This one paragraph, containing three paradoxes, gives us an insight into his central teaching on contemplation and will act as an outline for this article: Even though this happy night [of contemplation] dark-ens the spirit, it does so only to impart light. ; and even though it humbles a person and reveals his mis-eries, it does so only to exalt him; and even though it impoverishes and empties him of all., natural affec-tions, it does so only that he may reach out divinely to the enjoyment of all earthly and heavenly things.I John is teaching here about the passive dark night of the spirit or contemplation. The three paradoxes are: darkness leads to light, lowliness leads to rising up, and emptiness leads to fullness. He wants us to know that James W. Kinn, still an actively retired priest, writes again about John. His address remains 6318 243rd Court; Salem, Wisconsin 53168. 68.3 2009 Kinn ¯ Tbe Central Paradox of Jobn of tbe Cross 290 contemplation darkens, humbles, and empties our soul only to enlighten, to exalt, and to fill the soul. Once we grasp this one central teaching, we can understand the heart of John's teaching on the practice of contemplation. For Those at the Threshold of Contemplation John offers teaching for "proficients, at the begin-ning of their entry into . . . contemplation.''2 These "proficients" have been practicing discursive medi-tation, but now often find they are void of sensible images, imaginings, affections, and reasoning. He has just described his famous three signs for discontinuing discursive meditation: (1) one often or regularly can-not make discursive meditation, (2) one is disinclined to concentrate on sensible objects or ideas, (3) one is inclined to remain alone in loving attention on God even though the experience is dark and unsatisfying. Today that group of people would include many who are practicing simple prayer or the prayer of presence or centering prayer or praying with a sacred word or mantra. John gives a general description of what is some-times or often experienced by people who pray in these ways l At the beginning of this state the loving knowledge [of God] is almost unnoticeable. There are two rea-sons for this: first, the incipient loving knowledge is extremely subtle and delicate, and almost impercep-tible; second, a person who is habituated to the exer-cise of meditation, which is wholly sensible, hardly perceives or feels this new insensible, purely spiritual experience.3 Persons like this are at the very threshold of contempla-tion, or occasionally practice it. First, John assures them that this darkness leads to light: "As soon as natural Review for Religious things are driven out of the enamored soul, the divine are naturally and supernaturally infused, since there can be no void in nature.''4 Here John teaches that, as soon as natural thoughts and sensible images no longer occupy us in prayer, God will infuse his supernatural light into us. He assures us that, once a natural void is created, it will be filled with the action of God. This image of filling the void seems particularly forceful in our day. We are familiar with vacuum-packed coffee cans and know that as soon as we puncture the lid the outside atmosphere fills the void with a hiss. In a simi-lar way, once our prayer becomes dark or empty of all sensible images, God will fill the void with his infused grace--though the light may only be "extremely subtle and delicate" for a while. Second, John assures them that God humbles the soul only to exalt it: If a person will eliminate these impediments., void-ing himself of all forms and apprehensible images . ¯ . and [will] live in pure nakedness and poverty of spirit . . . his soul in its simplicity and purity will then be immediately transformed into simple and pure Wisdom . 5 That is, because the soul can no longer pray with the sensible images and insights of discursive meditation, it recognizes its own inability and poverty of spirit. But God will soon instruct it with his own wisdom in con-templation and so raise it up. Third, John assures them that emptiness leads to fullness: When the spiritual person cannot meditate, he should learn to remain in God's presence . . . even though he seems to himself to be idle. For little by litde and very soon the divine calm and peace with a wondrous, 68.3 2009 Kinn ¯ The Central Paradox of Jobn of the Cross sublime knowledge of God . . . will be infused into his soul . Learn to be empty of all things--inte-riorly and exteriorly--and you will behold that I am God.6 This dark and empty prayer is filled with promise, For John, emptiness of all sensible images, rational thoughts, and affections is required so that God may freely communicate himself to the soul. He promises that God will not fail to do his part and bring the soul to enjoy a new way of experiencing him. Note that all his counsel here deals with those who are at the threshold of con-templation. That is, they have reached the point where discursive medi-tation has become dark and empty. At times they may experience the beginning of contemplation, but it is usually slight and subde. What does all this mean for all of us who are in this stage of prayer? John wants us to know that this dark and empty prayer is filled with promise: ¯ He assures us that we can be content in such dark and unsatisfying prayer, for "there can be no void in nature." He means that the very darkness is the neces-sary condition for God's supernatural way of acting in our prayer. ¯ And we can be peaceful even though we can no lon-ger pray with the insights and affections we experienced in discursive meditation. Just because we are convinced of our "lowliness and misery" and find "no satisfaction in self," God esteems this lack of self-satisfaction and is ready to instruct us in his wisdom. ¯ And we can be confident even though we are empty Review for Religious and helpless, because such emptiness of sensible images, rational thoughts, and affections is required for God to communicate himself to us. "Learn to be empty of all things., and you will behold that I am God." For Those Beginning to Practice Contemplation In The Dark Night John explains why this dark night of contemplation must first darken, humble, and empty the soul before it can enlighten, exalt, and fill the soul. The affections, sentiments, and apprehensions [of contemplation] are of another sort and are so eminent and so different from [those experienced naturally in discursive meditation] that their . . . possession demands the annihilation and expulsion of the natural affections and apprehensions; for two contraries cannot coexist in one subject. Hence. this dark night of con-templation must necessarily annihilate [the soul] first and undo it in its lowly ways by putting it in dark-ness, dryness, conflict, and emptiness. For the light imparted to the soul . . . transcends all natural light and does not belong naturally to the intellect.7 His argument is straightforward: "two contraries can-not exist in one subject" at the same time. Therefore, "this dark night of contemplation must necessarily. undo [the soul] in its lowly ways by putting it in darkness ¯ . . and emptiness. For the [divine] light transcends all natural light." That is, the normal way for our intellect to operate is by means of sensible objects, but in con-templation God affects the soul directly, without sen-sible images¯ A few chapters later John describes his first paradox: this darkness leads to light: When you see your., faculties incapacitated for any interior exercise, do not be afflicted; think of this as a grace, since God is freeing you from yourself [so that now] God takes you by the hand and guides you in [ 293 68.3 2009 Kinn * The Central Paradox of yobn of the Cross 294 darkness, as though you were blind, along a way and to a place you do not know.s He immediately adds that you will succeed "in reach-ing this place," where the light "transcends all natural light." The second paradox is that God humbles the soul in order to exalt it. John insists that this humility and pov-erty of spirit leads to exaltation by God: The soul must first be set in emptiness and poverty of spirit . Thus empty, it is truly poor . . . and thereby able to live that new and blessed life which is the state of union with God, attained by means of this night.9 That is, humility and "poverty of spirit" will lead to the union with God that is our exaltation. The third paradox is that emptiness leads to fullness. The best quote for this is in The Living Flame:~° When the soul frees itself of all things and attains to emptiness., concerning them, which is equivalent to what it can do of itself, it is impossible that God fail to do his part by communicating himself to it, at least secretly and silendy.~ Here John guarantees that, as long as the soul is empty and passive, God will do his part soon and without fail. So, though the soul is passive and empty, it can be con-fident that the emptiness will result in God's presence and light. What does all this mean for us as we begin to prac-tice contemplation? John's answer is found in the cen-tral quote we are focused on: Even though this happy night darkens the spirit, it does so only to impart light. ; and even though it humbles a person and reveals his miseries, it does so only to exalt him; and even though it impoverishes Re-view for Religious and empties him of all., natural affection, it does so only that he may reach out divinely to the enjoyment of all earthly and heavenly things.12 Above, when John was speaking about those on the threshold of contemplation who simply could no lon-ger pray with discursive meditation, he assured them that even then this natural stage of prayer is filled with promise, for such dark and empty prayer is the neces-sary condition for God's supernatural way of acting in our prayer. He wanted them to know, even then, that as soon as they create this natural void God will soon fill that void with his presence. But now John's counsel is for those who are actually beginning to practice contemplation. His counsel clearly parallels his advice regarding that earlier stage of prayer. But here the darkness and emptiness are not just natural effects of ordinary prayer. Rather, for those beginning to practice contemplation, the very nature of contempla-tion is such that it increases the darkness and emptiness in three ways: (1) this dark night "darkens the spirit" so that no sensible objects ,. or thoughts can occupy the --~ mind or distract it; (2) it "humbles the person" with a sense of his own incapacity and poverty of spirit; (3) it "empties him of all natural affections" for material things. That is why the darker the night, the more receptive we are to God's light, and the more we know our poverty, the more open we are to God's power, and the more empty we are, the more we can passively await God's fullness. .i The .darker the night, ithe more receptive we are God's light. 68.t 2009 Kdnn ¯ The Central Paradox of John of the Cross 296 The second part of these three counsels is entirely positive and filled with promise. John assures us that the darkness is only to impart light, the sense of lowliness is only to exalt us, and the emptiness is only to fill us with God's presence. Summing up: , ¯ The purpose of the darkness of contemplation is so that God can take us by the hand and impart a light that "transcends all natural light." ¯ The purpose of the poverty of spirit is so that God can raise us up to a new union with him. ¯ The purpose of the emptiness we feel regarding all we can do by our ordinary prayer is so that God may do his part "by communicating himself to [us], at least secretly and silently." Such is the genius of John of the Cross's counsel for us at the beginning of contemplation. This triple para-dox permits us to be content in the darkness, because that is the necessary condition for God's supernatural light; we can be peaceful in our poverty of spirit, for "there can be no void in nature," no vacuum in super-nature; we can be confident in our emptiness for "it is impossible that God fail to do his part by communicat-ing himself to [us], at least secretly and silently." Notes Dark Night, 2.9.1. Ascent, 2.15, chapter tide and paragraph I. Ascent, 2.13.7. Ascent, 2.15.4. Ascent, 2.15.4. Ascent, 2.15.5. Dark Night, 2.9.2 (emphasis added). Dark Night, 2.16.7. Dark Night, 2.9.4. Review for Religious ~0 Living Flame, 3.30-62. Throughout this section, John of the Cross is instructing spiritual directors how to help those who are beginning to practice contemplation, when "God begins to wean the soul., and place it in the state of contemplation." '~ Living Flame, 3.46 ~2 Dark Night, 2.9.1. "kecharitom~ne" the word he spoke was redolent and to hear his voice was to be cut with scent knelt before my feet, his head was bent his speech and manner fragrant .for love he said he had been sent and this the promise immanent grace and joy are yours, but with lament his words like light caressed my ear it was as if my heart could smell and hear as if each sense were all and each was clear as if I were unclothed and my skin was sheer though in his presence I knew not shame nor fear what strength and sweetness was to me so near but in his eyes like stars there stood a tear far more than joy he said is yours to know and if all generations on your name bestow praise and honor in heaven high and earth below it is because your pierced heart will show the thoughts of many, both swift and slow, for from your flesh His bones shall grow and from your milk His blood will flow Sean Edward Kinsella [-297 68.t 2009 JOHN H. ZUPEZ Connecting through Prayer ~di~all find ourselves in the dumps at times, feeling connected from others. Perhaps this is our usual feeling when we wake up in the morning and have not yet consciously made any "connect" with God or with others. And there are specific incidents that leave us alienated, adrift in spirit: when we are misunder-stood or ignored by others, when we offend others and have no immediate opportunity to reconcile with them, when our selfish behavior alienates us from the Spirit within us. Morning prayer with the church has traditionally served as a connect for Christians. When it is celebrated in common, we experience the Christian communi-ty's support. Or, when said in a meditative manner, it becomes a connect with God, as it did for the early monks who lived in the desert, largely devoid of human 2981 John H. Zupez SJ wrote on petitionary prayer in our May-June 1992 issue. In recent years he has taught in seminaries in Nigeria and Zimbabwe. He was recently appointed pastor of Corpus Christi Church; 1005 N.E. 15th Street; Oklahoma City, Oklahoma 73117. Review f~ Religious contacts. But, said alone and quickly, it may not produce the intended effect of connecting us to what is most enduring and nourishing in our faith. Married people can find in their intimate relation-ship a deep connect. St. Paul used this relationship as a model for the connect between Christ and his "bride," the church. However, just as married love grows cold at times, so our relationship with the church does not always give us a sense of intimacy with Christ. Prayer That Connects At times of disconnect we may find prayer difficult, but it depends on how we pray. As our relationship with God matures, prayer becomes less a matter of running through prayers vocally or trying to influence God through petitions. It becomes more a reflection on how near God is to us. The words of most prayers do not mention explicidy our connectedness to God or to one another, but the connect is implicit. I suggest that we benefit by making it more explicit. We can pray in a way that makes conscious our connectedness to other people and to a world which we know in faith to be filled with divine meaning and purpose. Thus prayer becomes an antidote for the loneliness that assails us when we feel disconnected: cold, dry, alienated, "in the dumps." For instance, when saying the Our Father, we can pause to reflect on the richness of the word "our." In faith we know that every person is our brother or sis-ter since we are related through Jesus, our brother. We know, too, that all that God has made, everything around us, is for our use and enjoyment, a loving father's gifts to us personally. Then the next word, "Father," bespeaks the warmth of the Father's love revealed in the father of the Prodigal and also in Jesus himself, the 68.3 2009 Zupez * Conneaingthrough Prayer Good Shepherd, like us in all but sin, bearing lost sheep and all his crosses so that we may feel closer to him in times of difficulty. The rest of the Our Father elaborates on attitudes that follow from our being children of a loving God, attitudes that connect us to God's coming kingdom, to God's will for us, to God's beneficence in satisfying our needs, and to God's immediate presence to us in moments when we need forgiveness. The simple words "Our Father" become rich in connotation as we reflect on who this Father is and on how everything is ours in Jesus Christ, who came to restore all things to God. Similar reflection turns all of our prayer into a con-scious connect with God and with our neighbor. This connect is facilitated by the deeper insight that passes into our prayer from more relaxed reflection, as on days of recollection or during times of spiritual retreat. Morning Offering The more reflective approach to pr

Issue 63.3 of the Review for Religious, 2004. ; Communal Discernment . Heritages Prayer Vocation QUARTERLY 63.3 2004 Revlew for Rel~igious helps people respond'and be faithful to Goit~s universal call to holiness "by making available to ~be~° tbe spiritua! legiicie~s tbat flow from the cbarisms of Catbolic,~consecrated life. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published quarterly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-977-7363 ° Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: review@slu.edu ¯ ~reb site: www.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ¯ St. Joseph's Provincial House 333 South Seton Avenue ¯ Emmitsburg, Maryland 21727 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2004 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. 0 for religious LIIV~NG OUR CATHOLIC LEGACIES Editor Associate Editor Canonical Counsel Column Scripture Column Editorial Staff Vdebmaster Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Eugene Hensell OSB Mary Ann" Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp Clare Boehme~ ASC Steve Erspamer SM Kathleen Hughes RSCJ Ernest E. Larkin OCarm Louis and Angela Menard Bishop Terry Steib SVD Miriam D. Ukerids CSJ QUARTERLY 63.3 2004 contents 230 communal discernment Election and Communal Discernment: Goals, Myths, and Gifts Ted Dunn clarifies some of the reasons for using communal discernment as a method for electing leadership. 244 249 heritages Frances Siedliska's Mystical Life Barbara Sudol CSFN enters us into the mystical prayer experiences that marked the life of Frances Siedliska, foundress of the Congregation of the Sisters of the Holy Family of Nazareth. Is Even More Good Coming from Nazareth? A. Paul Dominic SJ gives witness to the new form of religious life represented in the Little Brothers of Jesus. 263 274 prayer Not for the Faint of Heart: Journaling into Honest Prayer Ren~e Nienaber SND shares her experience of journaling in prayer that brings both focus and perspective in our relationship with God arid with others. A Hidden Treasure of the Ignatian Exercises J. Thomas Hamel sJ describes experiences in the life and writings of St. Ignatius Loyola which give an insight into prayer as "looking." Review for Religious Fidelity and Commitment: Letter to a Young Marist Brother Sefin Sammon FMS as superior general writes a letter to his brothers below age forty about nurturing the commitment to their vocation. 305. Vocations and Vocation Discernment Charles J. Jackson sJ describes vocation in terms of the initial call people experience and their ongoing responsiveness to God's action in their life, and then uses this description to explain vocation discernment in terms of preconditions and repeated process. 316 Why One Younger Religious Stays Terri Emslie PBVM reflects on her own growth in religious life in the face of personal gaps and the gaps of others within the same congregation. 228 Prisms 323 Canonical Counsel: Religious Institutes as Juridi~ Persons in Reconfiguration 329 Book Reviews 63.3 2004 prisms Everyone receives the divine call to be holy. For God is the One who calls us all to "be holy as I am holy." The Vatican II docu-ments re-emphasized this universal vocation to holiness. In our Catholic tradition, vocation tends to remain a word restricted to the calls of priests and bishops and women and men vowed in the consecrated lifeform. But everyone is being called by God to grow in holiness, that is, in his or her relationship with God. And everyone is called by God to a way of living out this holiness. To learn God's idea of this way of living, we need to pray, especially to listen to God. We need to reflect with the word of God. We need to take in the opinions and advice of others, especially friends and those who know us well. In other words, we need to be in a process of discern-ment if we are to attune ourselves to the way that God seems to be drawing us to fulfill our basic vocation to holiness. As one recent writer notes, there is no lack of vocations in the church. Rather there seems Review fbr Religious to be a lack of awareness among church members of the twofold call: to holiness and to a particular ~ay that God has in mind--for us to respond to. If all Catholics took seriously the personal calling from God, we would find ourselves in a church and a world in which the kingdom of heaven was being made the more visible. We would have a church that was alive with people in the tradi-tional ~service roles. Listening for and responding to God's call is the necessary foundation for a continuing Pentecost experience in our day. Closer to home, there have been a few different "call-ings" among the Review for Religious advisory board members. Brother Adrian Gaudin SC left the board some months ago when he found it necessary to cut back on his commitments. Sister Raymond Marie Gerard FSP has been assigned to new work in the Roman headquarters of the Daughters of St. Paul. Bishop Carlos Sevilla SJ has completed his six-year term. Brother Steve Erspamer SM, artist and liturgical design consultant, brings his expertise to our journal world. Sister Kathleen Hughes RSCJ, currently provincial of the United States province, offers her liturgical and theological wisdom. Bishop Terry Steib SVD, bishop of Memphis, Tennessee, contributes his experience of religious life, along with his ecclesial vision as bishop. As editor, I acknowledge my debt of gratitude to our three retiring board members. At the same time, I wel-come with great pride the three new members who bring such wonderful gifts in their counsel for Review for Religious. David L. Fleming sJ 63.3 2004 communal TED DUNN Election and Communal Discernment: Goals, Myths, and Gifts discernment For fifteen years my wife, Beth Lipsmeyer, and I have, as facilitators, been privileged to accom-pany many communities through communal dis-cernment leading to the election of leadership teams. We have discovered that there are not only wide-ranging views on what communal dis-cernment is, but also varied expectations regard-ing what it will achieve. In other words; beyond the election, What does communal discernment offer communities and what does the "commu-nal" part mean? On this topic there are myths, commonly held beliefs that no longer apply. In addition, while increasing numbers of commu-nities are using communal discernment, many of them focus so much one the outcome (the election) that they fail to see the gifts they are receiving along the way. I offer here some reflections on what I con-sider the worthwhile goals, common myths, and Ted Duma is a clinical psychologist. He and his wife operate Comprehensive Consulting Services; 6217 Mid Rivers Mall Drive, Suite 294; St. Charles, Missouri 63304. Review for Religious subtle gifts of communal discernment. There is, of course, no one right way to understand communal dis-cernment; every community defines its own objectives and ways of using it. With this article I invite your reflec-tions. I hope communities will dialogue among them-selves about how to get the most from the communal discernment they use in their elections. Goals of Discernment Like flipping a coin or agreeing that the majority rules, discernment is, after all is said and done, just another way to make decisions. Unlike flipping a coin, however, there is nothing random or quick about it. Discernment is intentional and requires a great deal of time if it is to be done well. Unlike a simple, democratic vote, in discernment it is the Spirit, not the majority, that rules. In communal discernment it is deepening partnership, rather than well-conducted campaigning, that ensures integrity and brings persuasion. The communal discernment we are discussing seeks the election of the best leaders. It is, however, about more than just choosing leaders. Another goal is to engage you in the drama of a deeper story, your collec-tive story, as it continues to unfold. In communal dis-cernment, bonds of partnership are formed and re-formed, woven together with your charism and your traditions and with questions of who you are called to become. Communal discernment offers all members the opportunity to influence how your leadership should function, to shape the team's values and style of working. A third goal .of communal discernment is to shape the nature of the partnership between elected leadership and membership. I would like to elaborate on this, for it appears central to the yearning of many communities. Communal discernment can create new ways for leadership and membership to be together. This includes 63.3 2004 Dunn ¯ Election and Communal Discernment sharing the same vision. To do this, to have the same vision living inside each member, they all must have some degree of ownership of it. Looking toward the future, they must, as partners, share in some detail how they envision it and what they hope to contribute to it. Communal discernment invites this kind of heartfelt talking and listening, such fostering of shared hope. Communities yearn to be able to share one another's gifts more fully, to affirm one another more fully, to feel more deeply the possibilities and power inherent in their being together in one community, no matter what their individual positions or ministries. Communities appear to be struggling for a deeper kind of partnership laced together by their personal commitments to, and their emotional investment in, their collective future. They want to become freer by having greater personal respon-sibility. This kind of partnership does not just happen. It may be a promise of faith, but it is formed by experience, tested by challenges, and re-formed through expressions of care, the anguish of confrontation, and the hard work of reconciliation. In communal discernment, opportu-nities abound to shape the partnerships you aspire to achieve. Communal discernment enables you to reflect, both personally and collectively, upon where your com-munity seems to be heading, what your vision of the future is, what your communal needs are, and what indi-vidual and collective gifts you possess to work with. Ideally, communal discernment will affirm and assist each and every one of you in your search for clarity and wisdom as you together appreciate your collective truth through a new kind of partnership. Thus, along with (1) choosing your leadership, com-munal discernment also enables your communities (2) to discover the values and style of leadership you want for yourselves and (3) to build the kind of partnership Review for Religious between elected leadership and membership that will enhance your preferred future. Myths of Discernment What follows are seven myths that I commonly hear expressed in our work across communities. While I have my opinions about these myths, I do not have definitive "answers" about them. My purpose in mentioning these, however, is to evoke conversation among you about what you believe. Eliciting your own understanding of your attitudes and belief about these seven so-called myths may help you to appreciate the terrain through which you will make your way during any future communal discernment efforts. Myth 1: Discernment is primarily between me and my God. Traditionally this has been true. Discernment has traditionally emphasized one's deeply personal and prayerful search for God's will. In recent years, however, communities have developed and emphasized the inter-play of personal and communal prayer. Beyond individ-ual prayer, communities are stretching the boundaries of personal discernment to include conversations as a way to hear what the Spirit is saying. In communal discernment, open dialogue pools the wisdom of your personal efforts so that together you can discover God's intentions. Personal and communal prayer, personal and shared reflection and dialogue, are increasingly the norm for the discernment used in elec-tions. Discernment is no longer just a private matter between you and your God. It is between you and your God, but also with and among all your fellow members bringing their God-given inspirations and longings and wisdom. Myth 2: Leaders are elected to represent what I want and believe. In a democracy, leaders are elected to "repre-sent" their constituency. People cast their votes for the 63.3 2004 Dunn ¯ Election and Communal Discernment In discernment the emphasis is on the process, not on the outcome, the election itself. candidates they believe will best represent them and speak up for their interests. These politicians are elected, in part, as conduits for the voices of their constituents. In discernment the emphasis is on the process, not on the outcome, the election itself. In fact, in the process there must be "detachment" from the outcome. This is necessary for people to hear what God may be asking, to hear the truth as it unfolds. Detachment from the outcome is meant to aid in listen-ing honestly to what is really being revealed rather than to what you already know, or expect to hear, or want or do not want to hear. In other words, if what someone tells you, or asks you to look at, seems to assail the out-come you prefer, you might stop your ears from hearing it. Setting aside your preferred outcome helps you to listen more honestly. If communal discernment has been done carefully, the subsequent voting expresses the wisdom of an enlightened group, not contentious efforts to put one's own candidate into the office. The power of individuals to enlighten, to forge partnerships, to stir vision, to cooperate in one another's future, is not limited to vot-ing. Your community's power in discernment is limited only by your difficulties in listening, your inhibitions about speaking, or your complicated efforts to get oth-ers to'speak for you. Discernment invites all of.y6u to give full voice to your most authentic truth. In a dis-cerned election, voting is only one of many oppor(-uni-ties (perhaps the least influential of all) to have your voice heard. Leaders called forth in this way are not so much elected to represent what you believe and to speak Review for Religious for you, but rather are affirmed to partner with all mem-bers in forwarding the movement of your community's mission. Myth 3: Discernment is primarily for those who are endorsed. From my perspective, and in our preferred approach to facilitating, communal discernment involves everyone in the community from beginning to end, not just those endorsed. Everyone goes through each phase of communal discernment, and everyone is invited to participate in processes along the way. Individual and communal prayer takes place throughout, Individual and shared reflections take place throughout.The interplay between personal and communal discernment is a dance that begins.with the preparations for endorsements and concludes with the election. While sometimes separate and sometimes together, all members (not just those endorsed) are engaged in discernment, and any process that is done separately needs to reconnect with the whole so that. there truly is a communal discernment. Our approach to communal discernment encourages the pooling of wisdom from past leadership and from those endorsed, from supportive,~ collaborative, .and deliberative members. Everyone is invited to submit endorsements, and these are the basis of invitations to the first discernment gathering, such as a discernment weekend. Those who attend come with the wider com-munity's blessings, input, prayers, and concerns, includ-ing expressions of desires and critical issues. Afterwards these persons bring to the community, at the "discern-ment assembly," their presumed group enlightenment. They share what they have found helpful and pertinent, and in turn they listen carefully to the wider commu-nity's wisdom--so'that all have a better basis for their continuing discernment. No matter how many phases or gatherings there are, the emphasis in communal discernment is to bring t 63.3 2004 Dunn ¯ Election and Communal Discernment together into unity the fruits of every individual or group discernment. Open dialogue, sharing discoveries along the way, and making decisions (such as to withdraw from the process) only in the context of the whole--all of these bolster trust in the overall discernment and in one another. Myth 4: Those with fewer endorsements are not serious contenders. Those with one, five, or fifty endorsements are of equal voice and value to the communal discern-ment. Each person endorsed, regardless of numbers, has been validly called. All are asked to consider themselves potential leaders and to discern with the Holy Spirit and the community. The Spirit is present to all, whether endorsed or not, and not more or less present according to the number of endorsements. It is a mistake to think of endorsements as a straw vote or, worse yet, as a reflection of the number of friends you have that believe in you. Endorsements are signs that people believe that you may have the quali-ties needed at this time in this leadership position. Numbers are not as important as what the endorsements invite you to explore. Those with the most endorsements may not be elected, and those with :one endorsement could be. We facilitated an election wherein a sister with one endorsement was ultimately elected after discern-ment had its deep effect on both her and the commuo nity. Endorsements are a departure point for conversation, an invitation to dialogue, and not a straw vote or a test of popularity. Do not expect numbers to satisfy your discernment questions, about either your faith or your future. Myth Y: Discernment means logically weighing pros and cons. Discernment, at its heart, is about searching for what God intends. While reason and logic are impor-tant, they are not of preeminent value. In discernment the irrational is not irreverent. Irrational processes of Re~iew for Religious cognition, such as our intuitions and our hearts' desires, are very much pa.rt of what leads us to God. We are made of head and heart, body and soul, mind and spirit. All of these are real. All are valid. Perhaps we can learn and appreciate better what God intends by allowing our-selves to be more fully ourselves, to embrace our human-ness in all its dimensions. That reason and our intuition, or logic and our feel-ings, may sometimes conflict is not itself a problem. Nor are we called to ignore one in favor of the other. Each of these different kinds of infor-mation needs to be understood in its own right. The invitation here is for deeper integration, not muting one in favor of another. What you think is right may conflict with how you feel. What you know may conflict with what you intuit. What you should do may conflict with what you want to do. Conflicting emo-tions and reasoning and intuitions .are signs that your dis-cernment is not as complete as it could be. The journey of faith often invites us to explore pos-sibilities beyond the boundaries of what reason and logic would dictate. Discernment is, in its essencE, a faith jour-ney, and, because there is a communal dimension to this, you are invited to make this journey with one another. Pros and cons are important to look at, and so is spiritual growth. Filtering the qualities needed for leadership is important, and so are opportunities for reconciliation. Assessing your future needs is important, and so too is the struggle to reinvest in community when your past wounds would urge you otherwise. Reason is important, and so is grace. Myth 6: Tbe election is where my voice really matters. Some may think that all this discernment talk is nice, What you think is right may conflict with how you feel. 63.3 2004 Dunn ¯ Election and Communal Discernment but in the end "I'I1 get my vote, and that's all that counts anyway." This is perhaps the biggest myth of all. In years past, when some were chosen to be delegates at chap-ters or senates, votes were the ultimate expression of the voices that mattered. If you were not chosen,, your del-egates carried your voice. If you were a delegate, your voice, expressed through voting, had the same weight as that of other delegates. Your vote expressed not only your own desire, but also spoke for those members not in attendance. The delegates were .often seen as privi-leged, and indeed they were, for only their voice was the one counted in the end. Whether through Robert's Rules or other rules, the voices heard at the time of election were confined to carefully laid-out rules of procedure. Votes equaled voice, and this voice was .the power of a privileged few. Most communities have moved to,open chapters or senates, whereall of you are invited to choose your own mode of participation .(supportive, collaborative, delib-erative). Everyone is offered the privilege of voting and, more important, the privilege of discernment. Your abil-ity to affect the shaping of your future, and to deter-mine the leaders to help you do so, is entirely~ dependent upon your personal choosing. You can be of little influ-ence if you choose minimal .participation:or have a great deal of influence if you involve yourself more deeply. Your voice matters at every step of the discernment, not just during the few hours you spend casting ballots. Your votes will be counted in the end, but, during the months that precede the voting; itis your discerning voices that count the most. In communal discernment the ones who shape the ultimate outcome are the ones who dialogue along the way, who listen and share, who invest in this faith journey and in one another. Myth 7: Discernment is mainly about cbtosing the most qualified. From our perspective, focusing upon the most Review for Religious qualified is as flawed an approach to discernment as its countercorollary, that you should elect only those per-sons who see eye-to-eye and can get along well. I believe that it is important for team members to have differ-ences and be able to work with them, that process is as important as outcome, that tasks are as important as rela-tionships, and that the ability to work as a team is as important as any team's constellation of gifts and tal-ents. You could elect the best and brightest, but, if they cannot get along, if they cannot gel into a cohesive work-ing unit, you will not see the best of what they have to offer. Likewise, if you elect those that get along with-out regard for the differing gifts and talents needed, you will not get a leadership adequate to your needs. From our experience of working with a variety of teams, the composite of its members' talent is effective only to the degree that the "team" functions as a team. In other words, the talent will have its desired proper effect only if there is also a commitment to. stay in the struggle: not give up on one another or the tasks at hand, deal with conflict rather than avoid it, work through dif-ferences honestly and directly, do the hard work of repairing trust when it is broken (mend wounds and clar-ify misunderstandings), speak out of principle and com-passion, and so on. Discernment can assist communities in electing indi-viduals who have the flair and the desire or willingness to work as team members, but teams are not elected. Rather, the individuals elected form themselves into a team. It is, however, incumbent upon those electing to look at more than the composite of talents, at more than the rtsum~s. How homogeneous or different the team members are in their styles, beliefs, and abilities is impor-tant only insofar as the composite captures what you have collectively claimed is important. No one person has all of these gifts, but as a whole the team you elect 63.3 2004 Dunn ¯ Election and Communal Discernment should resemble what the community has discerned to be necessary both in mixture of talents and in preferred style of working together. Gifts of Discernment: Wisdom, Relationship, and Light At any given time some of you can see farther and better than others. Some of you are around the curve and up the hill before others. At another time someone else may have the greater vantage point and see what is on or over the horizon. On journeys everyone has a unique perspective to offer. Some can see what has been, others can see what is, and still others can see what is probably ahead. All of you play a part in understanding and discerning the collective truth. One sign of a discerning group is that it allows for its communal "truth" to be born from the womb of the whole. The truth that r~diates from everyone, if shared by all through open dialogue in the Spirit, can become a wisdom that is beyond the sum of all the contributions. When imbued with the Spirit, communal discernment can transcend individual wisdom and thereby bring a deeper understanding of God's intentions. I would like to offer a quotation (source unknown) that expresses what I consider the heart of communal discernment: "I sought my God and God abandoned me; I sought my soul and it eluded me; I sought my brother and sister--and found all three." This is very much the essence of discernment. It is a spiritual group pilgrimage inspired by our strong human desire for relationship and our search for love and understanding. It is persohal, but it is also spiritual and relational. Communal dis, cernment involves private and shared prayer, private and shared reflection, private and shared understandings of how the Spirit is experienced within each of you and among all of you. You choose this journey in search of Review for Religious God's will in order to decide personal and shared direc-tions. You commit yourselves to this soul-searching, truth-telling pilgrimage out of your yearning to be closer to God and one another. Communal discernment is, without question, an invi-tation to walk intimately with one another. Communal discernment is not a side-by-side experience wherein you share fruit that you found by yourself in prayer. It is an ever deepening conversation about your faith and your experience of one another along the way. You are invited to share not only good things you have found, but also your labor: you are to share in giv-ing birth. It is an awesome invitation to meet God in another human being and to discover who that stranger is on the road to Emmaus. We human beings often seek God when we are dis-turbed, when we are displaced from our comfort zone of the known, the familiar, and the safe. It is because of our poverty, our powerlessness, because of becoming aware of our fractured selves, that we. seek the healing, understanding presence of God and one another. The gift of our disturbance is that our passions are unearthed, the status quo is challenged, and what we have always known is no longer enough. We yearn for, and are fright-ened by, God's invitation to enter the mystery of our humanness. Yet our faith tells us that new life is found here, in the struggle, in this privileged place where Jesus lives. This place, where we meet Jesus in one another, is a profound gift of discernment. Communal discernment also offers the gift of light. It challenges you to recognize how you can fool yourself When imbued with the Spirit, communal discernment can transcend individual wisdom. 241 . 63.3 2004 Dunn * Election and Communal Discernment in order to get what you want and camouflage it as being "of God." It challenges you to catch how you hide from yourself and eclipse a deeper truth. This is where you are invited to reckon with your hidden payoffs for keep-ing your.own goodnes~ under wraps. This is where you can ask yourselves questions like ".What does grace enable me to be?" and "What on earth is holding me back from claiming this?" This is where your loyalties to the way things have always been, to the relationships that have given you life, come face-to-face with your fidelity to the truth you keep getting more awareness of. This is where current realities insist upon new wineskins and new patterns of being and relating. This is where your growing edges encroach upon the status quo of relationships, causing you to look anew at what you have hidden from one ~nother and kept from the people you love. Discernment is an attitude of listening, listening to the intimate whispers of God through prayer and through your conversations. It is a quiet process of attun-ing yourself to God's voice, giving special attention to urgings toward new life. Listen for the yes that radiates from within. Listen to fugitive t.ruths, and do not turn away-from newborn insights, so that all of you together manage to hear and see more truth. Listen to everyone as if you are listening for the first time, without conjur-ing up the cries of your old wounds .or letting the white noise of a hundred thumbnail reputations blur your attentiveness. Listen to God's urgings toward a future just beyond your grasp, but. reachable if you let go and give yourself to it. The paradox of discernment is that once you have adapted and become adjusted, once you have privately prayed, sifted, and sorted, you must again "let go" and be influenced by the Spirit working within and among you. You must be willing to take in new information, feel new Review for Religious feelings, and again be influenced by one another. You must seek the gift of interior freedom, of spiritual indif-ference, as to the outcome. Ideally, you will find a way to hold all personal agendas and desires, all hopes and wishes, all values and passions, in an attitude of openness. Ideally, you will experience being deeply rooted yet hold-ing on to things lightly. In this kind of freedom, God's intentions and those of all of you are together. This is neither blind Obedience nor stern self-denial. Rather, it is a transcending of self with eyes wide open as together you follow, or keep trying to follow, God's lead on this journey of faith. God is ceaselessly inviting us into the mystery of relationships, the mystery, of our humanness, the mystery of our life in Christ. ' Late August Blooms are bur, ning themselves out in backyard gardens. During evening's lengthenihg gloom the whirring chhnt of Iocu's.ts ebbs "and rises. '. ." Musk of squash and pumpkin n~w replaces headier,scents ofMayand June. You tooare seasoned, pausing between ripeness and the threadbare husks of winter. But within you the blueflame of chicory along country roads burns like a votive candle before the God of harvests. Patricia Schnapp RSM 63.3 2004 BARBARA SUDOL Frances Siedliska's Mystical Life heritages Frahces Siedliska was born on 12 November 1842 in Roszkowa Wola, near.Warsaw, Poland, of aristocratic parents, Adolph Siedliski and Cecilia Morawska Siedliski, and died in Rome on 21 November 1902. Her parents were wealthy landowners in the village of Zdzary, where their manor was situated. She had one sibling, a brother, Adam. In her early life Frances displayed intelligence, a love for beauty and music, and an elegance and maturity beyond her years. She also had a quick temper and a tenacious stubbornness, often matching her father in a clash of wills; In 1875, at the age of thirty-one, she would found the Sisters of the Holy Family of Nazareth,~ but in her childhood, religion was all but absent in the Siedliski home. Her parents, like other contemporary Polish aristocratic families, were indifferent to reli-gion. Materialism, rampant worldwide, and positivism discarded all that was supernatural, including religion. The nobility, identifying Barbara Sudol CSFN writes from 61-03 56th Avenue; Maspeth, New York 11373. Review for Reli~ous ,Catholicism with Polish patriotism, became the defending wall of the church, yet it did not know the church, did not understand it, and did not give wimess to it by their lives. (Strzalkowska, 16) Such an irreligious familial atmosphere had its effect on Frances's spiritual life. She walked in the darkness of religious ignorance until a Capuchin friar, Father Leander Lendzian, prepared her for her first Holy Communion, on 1 May 1855. He opened Frances's soul to religion and a growing spiritual life, notwithstanding much pressure from Adolphe Siedliski, who desired his daughter to live a more worldly life and enter into a mar-riage befitting her social station. But such a life was not to be for Frances. Her love of God grew throughout her life until her death in 1902 at the age of sixty. Her auto-biography, journals, letters, and other extensive writings to her sisters and to various members of the clergy give testimony to this love. Early in her religious life, Frances experienced the spiritual passivity of mysticism, a passivity that would enable her to give more and more of herself to God. She writes: In his mercy Jesus continued gifting me with ever deep-ening prayer., so that at times nothing else mattered, only., sometimes he takes away from me the ability to meditate, to have any feelings, and directs me to an immediate experience and acceptance of his holy truth. Then he suspends my faculties and . . . fills my soul according to his divine pleasure. (Strzalkowska, 58) Always she looked to God for her consolation and support, even in the midst of great difficulties, for with her emotional and mental suffering came physical suf-fering. Her health was flail, but, remaining in close union with God, she never permitted it to stop her from ardu-ous travel and time-consuming correspondence. As a foundress she went through all the rigor, heartache, legal-ism, and deprivation that are part of the early days of any 63.3 2004 Sudol * Frances Siedliska's Mystical Life foundation, all the while progressing on .the mystical way and entering more fully in(o deep prayer and union With God. In her diary she writes: "I knelt at Your fee~, and you drew my soul to yourself. It s~emed to me that I had left my body and was .moving toward you, my Love." She continues: "Later I fell into a deep stillness. My spiritual faculties were absorbed into a glorious intuition of God, of my Lord Jesus. At that time no word, no feeling, seemed appropriate or timely. I nee'ded to be drawn by and submerged in the love of my God" (Strzalkowska, 64). But there was even more.,Before,the end of her life, Frances was given the grace of espousal with God. In her diary she writes: ¯ I was at Mass at St. Claude's . My soul remained near Jesu~s in a spirit of elation. After Communion I experienced a strong desire which I expressed to.him , present within me. I asked Jesus to espouse my soul forever . Yet, as i pondered what it means to be a spouse of God, and as I looked at myself, I had not the courage ~o ask Jesus for this great grace. Instead, I humbled myself and abased myself while in my heart I sensed this message: "What I am doing for you now consider as an espousal, for I am espousing you to myself, uniting your soul to mine." (Strzalko.wska, 66) She wrote, kneeling, the constitutions and statutes that her congregation would ~idopt as their way of life, and she kriew the joy as well as the disappointment that comes with living in community. At her death she left two hundred and ninety-one sisters on both sides of the Atlantic, and a total of seventy-two youthful novices and postulants who would find in Nazareth their incentive to scale the heights she had envisioned; she was relinquishing without misgi ~vings twenty-nine ¯.houses .of Nazareth, centers of apostolic services in Europe and the United'States. (De Chantal, 128) In Frances Siedliska there was the delicate combina-tion of deep prayer life and vigorous-activity. Her coop- Review for Religious eration with God's grace was a daily undertaking, a con-scious decision to refuse Godnothing. For her generosity God gave her everything, including the heavy burden of the cross. "In .the mystical life, one passes from one layer to the next in an inner or downward journey to the core of the personality where dwells the great mystery called God--God who cannot be known .directly, cannot be seen, and who dwells in thick darkness" (Johnston, 127). If she experienced the dark night of the senses through her continual death to self in her relationships, journeys, and hardships in establishing the congregation, she also entered into the dark night of the soul, particularly in 1892, when she was fifty years old. Father Anthony Lechert, who had been her spiritual director and also a director for her Nazareth community, was removed from that position by his re.ligious superiors as a result of calumnious reports about him and his dealings with her and her sisters. In Frances Siedliska there was the delicate combination of deep prayer life and vigorous activity. 1892 marked the beginning of the mys.tic passion of Mother Siedliska; it would perdure another ten years and end with her death . Her physical suffering was accompanied by prolonged and oppressive moral suffering which, as the consequence of the event~ of 1892, she was compelled to bear and which she accepted in fullest conformity to the divine will. (Ricciardi, 244) Frances entered into her personfil dark night of the soul while continuing an indefatigable active life as foundress of her growing congregation. "Some circum-stances, particularly those surrounding the difficulties 63.3 2004 Sudol ¯ Frances Siedliska's Mystical Life of 1892 and the years following, including problems that affected the American foundation, placed Mother Siedliska in the crucible of calumny, a victim of treach-ery and lack of understanding" (Ricciardi, 379). Witnesses gave written testimony to the fact that Frances remained steadfast in her devotion to God and to the congregation, offering forgiveness to those who had injured her reputation and even personally doing good to them. To live a mystical life is no easy task, but the path of mysticism begins in a progression of steps. Only rarely are people given the grace of apophatic mysticism, as Frances Siedliska was. By her great love she gave her-self completely to God. Her greatest legacy to her reli-gious community was her belief in love: God's Love and her own love for each person. She understood the gospel imperative to love and knew well how difficult loving is in practice. God had already given himself to her as her Good Shepherd, her Rock, and her Lord. Note ' Actually Frances Siedliska founded the congregation when she sought and obtained on 1 October 1873 Pope Pius IX's approval and blessing to begin the Congregation of the Sisters of the Holy Fa~mily of Nazareth. In Rome in 1875 she opened the first permanent convent of the congregation. Works Cited De Chantal, Sister M., CSFN. Out of Nazareth. New York: Exposition Press, 1974. Johnston, William. The Inner Eye of Love: Mysticism and Religion. San Francisco: Harper and Row, Publishers, 1978. Ricciardi, Antonio. Hi~ Will Alone: The Life of Mother Mary of Jesus the Good Shepherd. Trans. Regis N. Barwig. Oshkosh, Wisconsin: Castle-Pierce Press, 1971. Strzalkowska, Sister M. Inez, CSFN. For Me to Live Is Christ. Trans. Sister Mary Paul Krasowski CSFN. Pittsburgh: Sisters of the Holy Family of Nazareth, 1995. Review for Religious A. PAUL DOMINIC Is Even More Good Coming from Nazareth? On what would be one of my happiest days as a Jesuit, I went to a religious house in a village, at that time the only house of its kind in India. (That was about thirty-five years ago, when I was a student of the-ology. Today there are only two such houses in India.) The house, unlike other religious houses I had lived in or seen, was in no way different from the other houses in the village street. It belonged to the Little Brothers of Jesus. Three of them, two from France and one from Belgium, were living like the villagers in almost every respect except that they worked with the leprosy patients, prayed together regularly as Christians in an Indian way, and, unlike Indian males especially of those days, cooked their own meals. Welcomed into their little tiled house of four small rooms--including a kitchen, a chapel, find a storeroom for medicines used in their paramedical work--I felt much at home and that religious life itself was at home there in close contact with the people around. I saw the brothers being all things to all people, learning the cus- A. Paul Dominic SJ writes again from Missionaries of the Poor; Fatima Nagar; Warangal 506 004; India. 63.3 2004 Dominic ¯ Is Even More Good Coming~/~om Nazareth? toms and beliefs of ~eir Hindu neighbors, joining their celebrations, speaking their Tamil language though amusingly with a French lilt, preparing and enjoying the local variety of quite spicy food, lending an ear to the varied tales of the young and old, lending a measure of rice occasionally, or just giving away a handful of chilies when a neighbor ~ent her child asking for some, and so on--ahd I felt a new thrill regarding religious life, at once Christian and Indian! The people of Alampoondi, the village in which the brothers had settled, witnessed all that, but they had no idea of their identity except as foreigners and Christians. With their little knowledge of church matters, they could not of course have any idea of the newcomers' being members of a religious congregation, the Litde .Brothers of Jesus. Did even knowledgeable Christians know of their existence? Like myself, hardly any of my theology companions had heard about their surprising way of life, although the Little Brothers, admittedly few in number, were keeping.up a quiet and unassuming but distinct presence on all the continents. A New Charism of Living and Working The Little Brothers' charism, as I learned from the brothers in India, is to live as Jesus lived at Nazareth, unknown and unheralded but unfailingly helpful in lit-tle ways. Who would want such a charism? ~About the Little Brothers who have taken to it eagerly and seri-ously, an outsider like me can say that they have shown themselves faithful to it. The first Little Brothers who came and settled in India have not given up hope of their continuing presence although they have attracted less than a half dozen Indian followers despite the consid-erable numbers of religious vocations here. In October 1933 Ren~ Voillaume and a few of his friends, all of them newly ordained, left their native Review for Religious France and went to E1-Abiodh-Sidi-Cheik in the Algerian Sahai'a and started living the Nazarene charism as a group. VoiHaume served as their elected prior from the beginning till 1965. On 13 May 2003 he died .at the age of ninety-seven. His death, if I am not mistaken, did not get much attention in the Christian. press or even among members of religious orders and congregations, let alone in the secular world. Maybe it could not have been different, but I incline to think that it was what it should hav.e been, given his and his brothers' choice to live in today's world like Jesus at Nazareth, in hidden mystery amid plain or harsh earthly reality. He died just as he had lived, with no splash of publicity for having accomplished some widely recognized good, though of course God knows all he did in the Nazareth-like places where he and his brothers lived. I came to know of his death by chance, but at the very' place where I first felt the spell of his humble charism. Here I would like to present an account of it as a loving tribute to Voillaume, and I hope a true one. The Original Recipient of This Charism ¯ The inspiration for Voillaume and his companions was an aristocrat named Charles de Foucauld (1858- 1). Though born in a devout Catholic family .and educated in Jesuit schools,Foucauld turned his back on Christianity at sixteen and entered military service only to quit it because of his undisciplined and even disso-lute ways. Later, around 1880, he went on an expedition to unexplored parts of Morocco and returned to pub-lish his findings in a book that won him fame. Still he was restless, least suspecting that the human heart is restless until it rests in God. In late October 1886 he found himself converted, in the confessional though he had gone there without wanting to confess. Once he was converted he knew the raison d'etre of his existence: to 63.3 2004 Dominic ¯ Is Even More Good Coming from Nazareth? live for God and only for God. He came to discover the person of Jesus as God's incarnate Son. He entered and left the Trappists and then became a priest, only to feel a compelling urge to be like Jesus not only inwardly but even outwardly. Out of love he wanted to reproduce in himself the life of Jesus at Nazareth, hidden, humble, hardworking, and helpful to others. In a letter he describes himself thus: The ,gospel proved to me that the "the first com-mandment" was for me to love God with all my heart, and that I must put everything within that love; and, as everybody knows, one of the effects of love is imitation. ¯ . . I did not feel at all made for imitating him in his public life and his preaching; I consequently knew I must imitate the hidden life of the poor and humble workman of Nazareth.~ As he delved into the hidden treasure of Nazareth, he found that he could not keep it private: his newfound pearl of vision was not for himself alone. He hoped that it would become a pattern of life for others too. But, however much he wanted to have companions to live with him, he was not to have even one up to the day he died tragically. Even his tragedy was not perceived as greatness. He died as the two French soldiers visiting him did, victims caught in a tribal conflict, shot in the head by a frightened Tuareg youth. What could the worth of his life be? But his story, told only briefly here, got circulated in his native France. Surprising stories began to be told of men and women, young and old, married and unmarried, from different walks of life, who sought to live in the spirit of Jesus the Nazarene somewhat as Foucauld did. Such was his influ-ence within a decade after his death that at least one col-lege removed a biography of Foucauld from its library for fear that too many young people might be drawn to his unusual example. Review for Religious The Nazareth Brand of Religious Life Among those who could not deny his impact on their life, Voillaume and his four friends may be ranked first. They were the first to attempt as a group to live their lives according to Foucauld's vision, and their attempt has stood the test of the times. Their fraternity (as they liked to call their group) centered their life on Jesus' way of living at Nazareth. Voillaume has reflected on this and spoken of Nazareth as a complete form of reli-gious life. Following Foucauld, he discerned in Nazareth a type of religious life undreamt-of before and, I am afraid, largely unknown even now. Religious life modeled on Nazareth is distinct, he pointed out, from the hidden life of many a traditional novitiate. It is unlike the lives of Carthusians or enclosed Carmelites, and it is also dif-ferent from the lives that ded-icated lay people lead in the footsteps of Jesus, the work-man at Nazareth. These three versions of Nazareth do not go beyond certain aspects. Voillaume's version diverges from them in discovering something new, even though it is at one with all the earlier forms of religious life inas-much as it does not swerve from the spiritual reality of freely promising to God, with the public approval of the church, to live in chastity, poverty, and obedience. Instead of following the Jesus of the public life, the Little Brothers follow the Jesus of the hidden life. They renounce a distinct habit, large or isolated buildings of their own, and large enterprises or projects. They choose to live like the ordinary worker that Jesus was: poor and humble and unavoidably involved with and even depen-dent on others. They live in an aura of prayer, much Their fraternity centered their life on Jesus' way of livin, g at Nazareth. 63.3 2004 Dominic * Is Even More Good Coming from Nazareth? prayer, so as to grow in favor with God and their fellow human beings as Jesus, did in ,Nazareth.2 Some of this may seem to ignore things indispensable to religious life. But are they? Or are they just means for0a particular way of living the three vows? And can one: not conceive of a~true religious life that makes less use of traditional means and ye~ proves to be a sure road to the ex;angelical perfection of the joyous embrace of the three vows? In this spirit Voillaume says: Such a road has been opened up for us by Father de Foucauld. It lies in sharing the lot of the workers and the other poor, with all the consequences involved, and being a living presence of Christ among them) Voillaume explains this new spirit and style of religious life: Less attention is paid to sheltering oneself off from risks by means of separations, or to being helped by observances superimposed upon one's daily occupa-tions, than to ordering one's entire life into a single moy.ement of charity for Christ and or_tier people, and learning to use the very difficulties attendant Upon such a life as so many mean~ to self-dispossession and the very concrete realization of one's profession of the . three vows? A Name of Prideand Humility . The Nazareth-based form of religious life described above may be further appreciated by reflecting-on the name that Voillaume and his companiong; following Foucauld; gave to their group: Little Brothers of Jesus. No one can. mistake where .their love was. Their love was not .for ~an unusual, heroic, rele~cant ideal surpass-ing the old, but for Jesus; and so they gave their hearts, their.very selves, to the person of Jesus. By their name they.made a claim on Jesus;~ ofbelonging to himand his belonging to them. (In this they have measured up'to the holy ambition of the,original b'and of Jesuits,. and Review for Religious may have stolen a march on some of my brother Jesuits.) The brothers' loyal love is not a romantic thing. They have found him whom they love in persevering faith, in their common Eucharist, in the Gospels, and in their neighborhood,s In their very love for Jesus, they turn to people and attend to their urgent, unfilled needs such as their need for justice. They are. wise enough not to be misled: they know the lurking temptation of sincere Christian apostles to think, in Voillaume's words, "that one does not have the time to look towards Jesus and love him as he should be loved: for himself." He coun-sels his Little Brothers that they have their set task right there: It is to act as the "regard" of men today upon Jesus, to be in Jesus' presence the "standing delegates" of the forgetful crowd, carrying to him in their place their adoration, their needs, their complaints, and their faults.6 Are they here inspired by Jesus' approval of Mary of Bethany "wasting" costly ointment on him? By their name Little Brothers of Jesus, they mean to express how their love of Jesus marks their way of loving others, including one another. Voillaume can say to his brothers: If we are to be of any "use" at all in the world,' it will be for having been faithful enough to allow a bit of Christ's immense love for men to appear through our.hearts and our comportment . If we are really united with our Lord, if we keep our eyes trained upon.Jesus living and working at Nazareth, then, like Father de Foucauld, we shall be able to remain open to people's solicita-tions. 7 So, as brothers of Jesus, they become brothers of all according to the revelation that all people are to be con-sidered brothers and sisters and not titled personages (Mr 23:8-10). Abhorring all superiority, they behave as 63.3 2004 Dominic * Is Even More Good Coming from Nazaretb? brothers who imitate Jesus in his redeeming love. Inspired thus, they contact specially the poorest just as they are and because of what they are, persons bereft of all power. In doing this they are aware of God calling each one by.name in the intimacy of lovefl and so they too aim at reaching out to individuals as if each one were the only soul to be loved in the world. They do not cal-culate their mission success in terms of administering and applying approved techniques and technologies. If in their love they feel the urge to give Jesus to people and help people find their lofiged-for kingdom of God, it is in the unglamorous way of being the salt of the earth or the world's ordinary daylight.9 Voillaume challenges his brothers: So long as our love has not reached the point where it has made us truly capable of showing them that the kingdom of Jesus is for them, and that it has even begun to be present in their midst through us, we shall not have met the demands of Jesus' love upon us. The kingdom must be able to appear to them through us in all its realness: th~ patience, the peace, the force of Christ, and also Christ's demands for justice--all this enveloped, as it were, in love and void of all hatred (even when it is right to fight),l° Another challenge, even a greater one, facing the Little Brothers is love among themselves. Though this challenge may appear common to all religious, the Little Brothers are not quite the same. Modeling their very lives on the homely life of Nazareth can foster mutual friendship in a supernatural way. Voillaume says: It is our Lord's friendship that has gathered us together, and the human features of friendship, visible in ourselves, are something we must labor to produce. It is our duty gradually to become true friends, even though it may seem that by nature we are not self-evidently made for each other.~l Review for Religious This is something that I am afraid may often slip the attention of religious of every kind. The brothers choose to be litde. They choose to live within littleness, the mystery of littleness. It is a part of their learned ignorance (docta ignorantia). I have been amazed by their fund of knowledge and grasp of what is going on among religious and in church circles and in the world at large. Is it because they are little and thus open to learn? Being little, they also surely strive to keep grow-ing in their love of Jesus and of their fellow human beings. The proof is that they embrace the hard way of the poverty of little people. Knowing, however, that such a life and such a mission are impossible for humanity's lit-tleness, they look to God, for whom everything is pos-sible (Mt 19:23-26). Their way of mission is so different from the usual apostolates that it may not even seem to be mission work. In traditional Christian circles, eyebrows are surely raised at the Little Brothers. Failing to understand what they intend by their style of life, their poverty and their appar-ent unproductiveness, many Christians, including ecclesi-astics, may consider them useless for the church. But, following their own vocation, the Litde Brothers opt to be unprofitable servants in the eyes of people who do not-- but to my mind should--know better. They know that, if they are to instill the beatitudes in people's hearts, no activ-ity that takes them out from among the poor, the mourn-ful, the hungry, and so forth would be in keeping with the little way marked out by Jesus for them.~2 Their name, Little Brothers, expresses Jesus' humble and soaring spirit. A Mission Common and Yet Uncommon For a further understanding of the Little Brothers' charism, reflect that their mission is to be, in little ways, hands of Jesus in touching the lives of his least brothers and sisters. Though the Little Brothers share with other 63.3 2004 Dominic ¯ Is Even More Good Coming from Nazareth? religious congregations one and the same mission from Christ, the way they discharge it is unique,13 as indeed it should be in the case of every charism. A simplistic and falsifying view must be avoided here. Voillaume is very insistent on this. He points out that well-meaning peo-ple could give a wrong picture of the Little Brothers' mission with a "wooden and detestable definition" such as this: "The Petits Fr~res are not engaged in this activ-ity or that; they must not be involved in anything, but simply give an example."14 As Voillaume envisages it, the Little Brothers' life is to be far different: They will be poor in all things except God, and be of little apparent use, sharing the weariness of those who labor, their sole purpose being the proclamation of the Savior's gospel. They will submit their thoughts and deeds to the divine friendship in order that they may make known to those around them the infinite mystery of that friendship towards men, hidden from all eternity, but revealed to us in the heart of Christ.~s Their lives are, then, obviously bound up with two vibrant movements closely combined: being or becom-ing oneself enriched with God and also enriching others, particularly the masses of poor laboring people. Their twinned vocation may be expressed as contemplation of God and comforting their neighbors by their presence. These two elements, invisible and visible, which consti-tute the life of the Little Brothers, are commonly viewed as mutually exclusive. People contrast the contempla-tive and active vocations, or else see them as combined, but with prominence given to action for the good of the neighbor. The Little Brothers give equal importance to contemplation and their neighbors' good, but their con-templation is not like that of the cloistered,16 and the help they give their neighbors is far from the various well-defined goals of apostolic communities. Some brothers have lived as regular members in a Revie*v for Religious kibbutz in Israel. They shared and enjoyed the life and work there as much as the others did. Living poorly, they appeared happily settled, though unmarried. They impressed others as lov-ing, and they surprised them by praying regu-larly and unashamedly. The young Israelis were intrigued enough to ask what made them live like that. They were told that, if they were really eager to know, they had better contact some of the many religious in Tel Aviv. But they would not; they said, "No, we don't want to hear from others; we are not interested in their codes or customs. What we want is to understand your life from your own telling.'"7 One of the Little Brothers was a prisoner among prisoners, though known to the authorities to be inno-cent of any crime. He had sought and found admittance to a prison, and lived there sharing the life of the con-victs and offering them his unsought presence and friendship. Surely the prisoners needed to be instructed and converted, but the lone brother was not there to serve as a chaplain, nor did he mean to function as a social worker helping them to find money for their needs or to establish contact with their family or to do some-thing of the kind. What he wanted was to love them as a friend, standing by them and sharing with them all the physical and mental hardships of imprisonment though he himself did not deserve them2s In such circumstances the brothers are not concerned with expla!ning them-selves to people, but with so doing things with them or Their twinned vocation may be expressed as contemplation of God and comforting their neighbors by their presence. 63.3 2004 Dominic * Is Even More Good Coming from Nazaretb? for them that they cannot avoid being aware of God's nearness in some slight way at least. The Little Brothers' particular grace and genius in this matter may be expressed in one word, presence, total pres-ence to God and total presence to the poor people around, a presence that cannot but be humble. It may be called unpretentious prophetic presence, that is, the presence of a prophet drawn by God to himself and sent to people and sent by their plight back to God. It is reminiscent of Jesus' long years at Nazareth: ever turned toward God and toward the needy people near at hand. Whatever Jesus' double stance might have looked like, one thing is certain: he would have been burning with zeal for God's mission among these burdened people. His zeal showed itself in the temple at the dawn of his adulthood and would have continued during his adult years at Nazareth. There, how-ever, it could ordinarily find expression only in his daily commonplace contacts with people, and could only be fully exercised fully in the realm of the Spirit. In the Spirit he was attuned to Abba, his Father, and to his Father's mys-terious mission of compassion for the human race. At the same time he was intimate with the people in and around Nazareth, in a way that was both human and divine. That is to say, he looked upon and loved and desired the good of everyone he met, in accord with his Father's love and desire.19 This was, then, contemplative attention to God and to people needing redemption. It was a contempla-tion of God's compassion and of people's condition in the light of God's personal care for them. Such contempla-tion can occur only with the constant activity of God him-self in life's present moments. Such a life is one of intercession for people, and the people may perceive it as such. The Little Brothers learn to do as Jesus did. Voillaume explains: In our time this awareness has become more vivid than ever, and it has reached the point when many have Review for Religious come to feel that they must give concrete expression to this permanent commission to pray in the name of mankind by really sharing the circumstances of men's lives. This new way of imitating the life of Jesus of Nazareth, this summons to be united with that Man- God who was also one of the workmen of his native village, is in fact a development in the nature of prayer itself. Our own vocation has followed this course.2° One of his Little Brothers put it more simply and sharply, to the delight of Voillaume: "We are the voice of the poor, their liturgy.''2~ Each Group in Its Place For those who are still wondering about the import of this vocation, Voillaume has said: The Brotherhood's position in the church is very hum-ble, and their way of life must not be interpreted as a criticism or a failure to appreciate the other forms of the apostolate which the church approves. At the same time, the apostolate of the Petits Fr~res seems to meet a new need for the evangelization of the world which it is well we should realize)~ In saying this he shows the healthy tension of a man who appreciates the continuing value of traditional approaches in the present, and yet cannot deny the new demands that our changed times make. I think this is what Brother Michael, his successor as prior general in the 1990s, meant by what he wrote to me in a letter: "Ren6 Voillaume has been given an unusual charism: he trans-mitted the message of Nazareth life against his own feel-ings!" So it seems the inheritors of that charism have to live experiencing in themselves the attraction and tension of bipolar ideals. More could be said, but let Ren6 Voillaume have the last word: The ideal of life of the Petits Fr~res through its twofold requirement of contemplation and of pres- 63.3 2004 Dominic ¯ Is Even More Good Coming from Na~aretb? ence among men, and also through the nature of the means envisaged for carrying it out, constitutes indeed a new and original form of religious life.23 Notes I Ren6 Voillaume, Seeds of the Desert (London: Burns and Oates, n.d.), p. 24 n.2. ~ Seeds, p. 12. 3 Seeds, p. 53. 4 Seeds, pp. 53-54. s See Seeds, p. 70. 6 Seeds, p. 7 I. 7 Seeds, pp. 72-73. s See Brothers of Men (Denville, New Jersey: Dimension Books, 1966), p. 142. 9 See Seeds, pp. 74-77. to Seeds, p. 76. ii Brothers, p. 52. lz See Seeds, p. 80, and Brothers, p. 23. 13 See Ren6 Voillaume, Follow Me (London: Darton, Longman, and Todd, 1978), p. 64. 14 Brothers, p. 195. is Brothers, p. 134. 16 See Seeds, pp. 60, 63, 65. 17 Ren~ Voillaume, Faith and Contemplation (London: Darton, Longman, and Todd, 1974), p. 111. is See Brothers, pp. 145-146. 19 See Follow, p. 141. 2o Brothers, pp. 90-91. 21 Brothers, p. 91. 22 Brothers, p. 138. ~ Brothers, p. 122. Review for Religious RENI~E NIENABER Not for the Faint of Heart: Journaling into Honest Prayer Within a short time, three of my closest rela-tives died. A fourth death was imminent. With too much heaviness to hold any longer, I had to find a way to deal with my grief and anger. Journaling became my path into honest prayer. At one breakthrough I wrote to God in letters big enough to read through my tears: !'Why don't you pick on someone your own size?" Slowly my response came, not with the earth opening to devour me, but with a deep, endur-ing peace. God had answered my fierce words with comforting silence. Anyone who prays with raw candor is in good company. Such honesty with God charac-terizes some of our famous ancestors in the faith, who impolitely told God when they had had enough. Jacob, Jeremiah, Jonah, and Job wres-tled with God. There is modeling for honest Ren6e Nienaber SND writes again from St. Mary of the Assumption Parish; 121 West Main Street; Alexandria, Kentucky 41001. 63.3 2004 Nienaber ¯ Not for the Faint of Heart prayer in the Lament psalms: the psalmist gives God a piece of his mind! The prophets likewise were never afraid to speak to God from their gut. Even Jesus in Gethsemane begged that the cup of suffering be taken away, and he cried out on the cross, feeling forsaken. In more recent centuries the complaint of Teresa of Avila, doctor of the church, was "If this is how you treat your friends, no wonder you have so few." Tevye, the strug-gling father in the play and movie Fiddler on the Roof, asks God in frustration, "Would it spoil some vast, eter-nal plan if I were a wealthy man?" We too can speak to God with such holy boldness. Spirituality deals with all aspects of life, not just the pious parts. Our jealous Lover wants all of us with no doors locked. Honest Journaling--and Us and God Many people are afraid to pray with honesty, think-ing that God will love us only if we are polite. Early training taught some of us to leave our problems at the door of the church. Rather, prayer needs to be a come-as- we-are experience. Spirituality is not just for the pious, but also for us who get wounded in the battles of every-day life and need somewhere to go with our pain. True prayer is about gathering up all of the stuff of our lives and offering it to God. The spiritual life challenges us to be not just holy but real: true to ourselves in all sorts of inner weather. Honesty, the essence of the eighth com-mandment, is essential for every relationship, including the divine/human one. To improve human relationships, sometimes people have to sit down and thrash things out. Similarly, at times we need to bring to God even the parts we would prefer to suppress. God does not want marionettes but real people with real emotions. The One who knocks on our door wants entrance into the whole truth of our lives. Some people, however, fear that they will be struck dead if they bring Review for Religious their frustration or anger to God. Rather, we might pic-ture God with strong, anthropomorphic shoulders--big enough to embrace us even when we feel far below par. We do not have to be on our good behavior with God in order to be loved. We speak about God as all-wise, about Jesus as "the way, the truth, and the life," and about the Spirit as our indwelling guide. This God wants to communicate that wisdom and truth to us from within our very beings. Jesus even seeks us out in our messiness, as he did the disciples on the way to Emmaus. He asks us, "What are you discussing as you go your way?" (Lk 24:17). Why Write This Type of Prayer? Why write in order to be honest with God? History has many examples of peo-ple who journaled in order to get in touch with their inner depths. Some in the last century were Pope John xxIII, Dag Hammarskj61d, and Anne Frank. Writing helped them clarify their sometimes confused and scattered thoughts, and it can help us. Journaling can provide both focus and per-spective. Putting pen to paper without editing can bring clarity that we would never achieve in our conscious mind alone. Some people will say they "can't write." But unedited journaling is not for anyone else to see. Spelling, punc-tuation, grammar, handwriting--none of these count. To many, writing honest prayer might still seem impos-sible, and people seldom try something if they expect to fail. But I hope readers will learn from the examples If we are afraid to be angry with God, at least writing is a silent outlet. 63.3 2004 Nienaber ¯ Not for the Faint of Heart below that the prayer of honest journaling can open wide a door to both themselves and God. If we are afraid to be angry with God, at least writ-ing is a silent outlet. Some polite people, when they dare to confront, prefer to write a note rather than to yell. Writing also helps people listen to the divine. This prayer communicates both ways. Especially when we are trou-bled, we need to be still and wait upon the Lord, as the psalmist says, asking for divine insight that we might not otherwise receive, If the wisdom from God is in writing, or between the lines, we have a better chance that it will touch our lives more than a fleeting inspiration does. Examples of Honest Journaling Following are ten samples excerpted from twenty years of honest journaling. Names have been omitted and some situations adapted to preserve anonymity. The summary titles, numbered 1 to 10, were of course added afterwards. My candid words addressed prayerfully to God are in roman type, and what seem to be God's can-did responses are in italic type. 1. God wants to reveal not only our sin but also the divine hesed (steadfast love or loving kindness). What do you want me to learn through this contin-ual frustration with A? Sbe presses a lot of buttons in you that are still deep, dark recesses of sinfulness: anger, resentment, negativity, revenge, self-pity, barred. Wow! That's pretty ugly! Much uglier than what she. did to me. I guess I thank you for letting me see this dark side. What good is it to see these faults? The more you're aware, the less power they'll bare over you. ~ls you become.more bumble and less reactive, the more connected you will be witb people and freer from this gravity. It's pretty ugly, yet you love me. You pick me up and kiss my wounds. You love me in my sinfulness. You allow Review for Religious me to journey to a deeper level of self-knowledge and awareness of being clothed in your grace, your love, your mercy, your truth (albeit painfully). 2. God wants to help us get through a problem, not bail us out. Is there something you want to say to me? Are you back to that feeling of being le~ out? Toujours--well, just more often than I wish, and B was the perfect catalyst for it. Ab, B, the lady you love to bate. She is so perfect, so superior, and so sure of how to do things better. She really tapped into a lot of your stuff I know. Help me sort through my stuff. Help you through? I will, but not by taking it away. This will keep you bumble-that quality you admire in otber people. This will always be your Achilles' bed. Will you love me just the same if1 help you through it rather than remove it? What a silly question. Will I still love you? Is there any other way to life? 3. God promises to help us forgive. God, I need your help to forgive her again. I hope I can last through this year. I will be with you. Remember my love, shown through the surprise ice cream and your notes from C. I appreciate any kindness you send my way because I'm feeling pretty crummy. Much is going well for you. I know. Thanks. But every day I have to forgive her. You are growing. And I am suffering. I know. I am with you. Remember that I'm not just remote, way out there, but very close in the workings of every day. I'm not sure. I'll try to cooperate with you. For now, help me forgive her once more. You are all I have. 7- 63.3 2004 Nienaber ¯ Not for the Faint of Heart That's not such a bad place to be. 4. God wants to calm our anger. #olo\&~÷~÷. I don~t want to find another note from D. Help me to look at this objectively and not come down too hard on her. But I am angry at having to deal with this again. Enough is enough. O.K. Your turn to speak. I'm calling you, my dear, to ever greater depths of love. I'm asking you to have your heart stretched to embrace the weak and vulnerable. I'm inviting you to have my heart towards her. Will you accept? ~Vill you be the bigger person? Will you keep the lines of communication open? Will you be a channel of my love towards her-please? She so needs human love. Will you please help me? How can I tell you no? Yet my anger is so close to the surface with her. I will belpyou. I will be withyou. Unlessyou meet her at her stage of growth, however stunted, you'll never be my pres-ence to her. You'll be the foe, and shb will regress again. This is PROGRESS??? God, save me! I will, I am, I have been. Think of her as a work in progress. You can help or hinder that progress. 5. God wants to answer our questions. Why won't the song "Carry Your Candle" leave my mind even though it's the middle of the night? You're feeling overwhelmed after your meeting with E. You realize once more that you're not part of the "in group." YOu know~that you've bitten off more than you can chew. That's all true, but what about the song? You might be wishing that you could hide some of your light under a bushel basket. You want me to bring my light not just to E but also to F? You never let up, do you? Sometimes. But you know about the hothouse effect, right? I'm trying to get a beautiful, well-formed, and well-pruned plant. Are you up .to the challenge? Only with your grace, my dear, only with your grace. Review for Religious 6. God calls us to the truth about ourselves. You're letting me see my sinfulness. A lot of anger arises in me, now more quickly and verbally. Maybe it has always been there and is just now getting a chance to be seen because of my buttons being pushed. It's not pretty, and I repent. Partly I'm sorry because my mask of niceness is coming off. Partly I'm sorry because I'm going to have to go and talk with G. The fact is, my dear, that the fault is not all in her. She's pressing your buttons. This is not all black and white. Thank you for letting me see my own sinfulness and for letting me see my need for a Savior. I too have a somewhat hardened and peevish heart. Thank you for this important lesson. Doing so many holy things, I think my nose is pretty clean. Lord, I need your amazing grace. 7. God always gives the ultimate promise. I'll put it bluntly: I'm worried about my meeting with H. We know how strong-headed she can be. You saw how she treated me in our last encounter. I don't want to be gobbled up. It's not Thanksgiving; it's Christmas. I'm surprised at how weak-kneed I still can get just think-ing about it. I don't want to challenge anyone too seri-ously. HELP! I'll never get stronger unless I face this kind of thing. May I talk now? I will give you the words you need and the courage you desire. You don't need to or want to come off like J with no feeling. If you appear weak, that's O.K. You're doing what I call you to. You need only to be faithful. Don't forget the insight and power you've recqived from me in prayer, especially in this written form. I am your God, beside you and within you. As you know well, 1 WILL BE WITH YOU ALWAYS.t 8. God sends us the light we need. I am getting sick from the black hole that is sucking out my life. So much negativity! It's beginning to affect my stomach. I didn't know if the time was ripe to say 63.3 2004 Nienaber ¯ Not for the Faint of Heart anything or not. So, once again, I swallowed my words. Dear God, speak to me. I will if you'll give me a chance and listen. Be still and know that I am God. Your God and her God. You're not going to change bet much. Maybe you can think of bet as a sick person who needs compassion. Maybe she is the lost lamb that needs to be picked up in your embrace. Maybe even she is the prodigal who needs to be welcomed with open arms. She is your responsibility to pray for. What are you doing about it? You're right. I do pray that she might find a few ounces of happiness. Help her to see your goodness in herself. And help me to treat her with a little more of the Spirit of Jesus - not just write about it. Help me to find any rays of light in the darkness. Let me .look more with your compassionate eyes, not my increasingly hard-ened eyes and face and mouth. The light is coming into the darkness. VVatcb for tbe first streaks! 9. God helps us to see more reality.than we're aware of. Why am I still so upset that it shows in my eyes? It reminds you of Mother's Day fifty years ago and the arguing, never reconciled, just stuffed. No one should ruin an important day like this for others. I hate that stupid trick called "I was only kid-ding." Doesn't she know that's a lie? She wasn't really lying. She was kidding herself, not quite aware of her motivation. I have really internalized this. Is it also about me? Yes, you hate not being the good guy. You dislike being one of the sources of controversy. You hate having "lost it" in a way you would never have done had you been fully in control. You dislike that you have to go and apologize again. You're right, as Usual. 10. God comforts.us in our disappointments. Dear God, you seem to be the only constant in my life. My family, friends, and fellow parishioners disap- Review for Religious point me. I don't want to get too Jesus-and-me-ish, but you're the only one I can really rely on. This is a self-pitying but true statement: I give out so much and receive propor-tionately so little in return. My dear child, lay your bead against me, and let go of another birthday that could never reach your expectations. I am not just bigb in the heavens but very real and very near. I am inside you, guiding you, encouraging you, shoring you up, opening new paths, loving you unconditionally, giving you loyal friends, reminding you of your v~ortb, sending people to delight you. I will always be faithful My family, friends, and fellow parishioners disappoint me. Observations, Benefits, and Suggestions One common thread throughout the above ten exam-ples is God's promise "I will be with you always"-even (or especially) in difficult situations. Jesus Christ is our Savior not just through his death and resurrection, but also in everyday situations where we need healing and hope. As with our forebears in ancient and modem times, God chooses to be present with saving grace through a whole spectrum of love: from comfort to confrontation. Some people wonder if this kind of dialogue with God comes just from an overactive imagination. If we are truly open to God, the answers we get are Truth try-ing to intersect with our confusion or our suffering. We have a God of communication. How else would the patri-archs and prophets have heard God's voice? How else would apostles and martyrs, foundresses and laypersons, have known God's will? Of course, we can be mistaken in our listening. Discernment is always needed. Many of us were trained to start the day with the Morning Offering. In it we offer to God not only our 63.3 2004 Nienaber ¯ Not for the Faint of Heart prayers, works, and joys, but also our sufferings. Do we offer them to God? Life sometimes deals us a bad hand of cards, and some people easily say that God does it for a reason. If this is true, maybe the reason is so that we will not live on the surface, but take the risk of going deeply into prayer and into the mind of God. Only the truth sets us free. Thus, praying through our sufferings can give more peace, insight, and freedom than we have ever known. Honest prayer can lead us more deeply into the paschal mystery. Once we face and embrace our dark-ness, we can be more open to the light, the resurrections within us. St. Paul writes in 2 Corinthians 6:4-10 that he does not regret his struggles. He embraces both sides of the mystery of Jesus in his own body: "punished, but not put to death; sorrowful, though we are always rejoic-ing; poor, yet we enrich many." Praying honestly can help us, like Paul, to hold in reverence both the light and darkness of our life. Once people have had a few experiences of getting insight from God in difficult situations, they are encour-aged to continue as the need arises. In case pray-ers would like to journal in this way but do not know how to get started, the following suggestions are offered: God, what can I learn from this anger? What can this loneliness teach me? What do you want to say to me in my insomnia? How might I have handled my frustration differ-ently? How can I deal with this feeling of jealousy? Why do I have to put up with all of this #o~o&-'.':~÷? Why am I so afraid? I really resent J because. I am sensing a deep loneliness because. I am feeling out of relationship with. I am in touch with one of my deepest wounds. Review for Religious Liturgical-minded people often use the readings of the day for their inspiration in prayer. Sometimes, how-ever, the events of our lives need to supersede those read-ings. In such cases, the text of our lives becomes the stuff of our prayer. It is unfair not to deal with our anger and frustration. The ten examples given above involve real issues which, if not dealt with in a healthy way, will spurt outwards or inwards in unhealthy ways. Our caring God wants to help us with such issues as our frustration, for-giveness, anger, disappointments, loneliness. God wants to give light, truth, and insights that are both consoling and challenging, if only we accede. With Peter we can ask, "Lord, to whom shall we go?" (Jn 6:68). In the Monastery Gardens Like the order, they have shrunk From golden reaches of summer sweetcorn Swelling the ear for hungering novices, Have shrunk from pumpkin-puddled swatches Of green and gold serpentining to half An acre of tomatoes all to be stored Against monastic winters. Borders of pines And windbreaks now do not enclose a pleasant Land of hefty cabbages and prickled okra; What is left is gardened for subsistence By stooping backs, gnarled hands, a cane Or two supporting a search for what then Had been Father Leo's prized asparagus. A fox Like Satan circumambulates the margins Where once the chickens found their forage. Not an Eden, never an Eden, but at evening Still walks a Presence serenely pleased to be At home in limitless gardens of the stars, Or gardens shrunken to an order's humbled knees. Nancy G. Westerfield 63.3 2004 J. THOMAS HAMEL A Hidden Treasure of the Ignatian Exercises p~ayer is about getting involved with God by hook by crook and is well worth the effort. Whether by rolling up their sleeves or getting on their knees, by waiting quietly or singing loudly, people manage to find a way of getting involved with God. But what if prayer is not primarily any of these activities? What if prayer is primarily a matter of looking? St. Bernard has a striking response to this question. In his sixty-ninth sermon on the Song of Songs he says: I must bring this sermon to an end, but I will say one thing to the spiritual among you, a strange thing, but true. The soul that looks on God sees him as though she alone were lboked on by him. It is in this confi-dence that she says he is concerned for her, and she for him, and she sees noflaing but herself and him. How good you are, Lord, to the soul who seeks you. You come to meet her, you embrace her, you acknowledge yourself to be her bridegroom, you who are the Lord, God blessed forever above all things.1 ~ J. Thomas Hamel SJ continues to reside at College of the Holy Cross; ¯ , ~ , 1 College Street; Worcester. Massachusetts 01610. Review for Religio~ts Echoes of this passage from St. Bernard are found in the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius Loyola, devoted as he is to the activity of seeing2 For Ignatius the actual begin-ning of prayer has everything to do with looking rather than listening. Along with his own "modesty" or "cus-tody" of the eyes in dealing with others, he seems to exult unrestrainedly in being looked at by God. In his Exercises Ignatius says, "For the space of an Our Father, with mind and heart raised up, consider how God ourLord looks at me" (§75).2 The "vulgate" Latin text adds a nuance: "Picture my Lord Jesus as present and looking at what I am on the point of doing."3 Getting involved with God turns around to mean God getting involved with the one who comes to pray. Ignatian spirituality has much to do with seeking and finding, with looking and listening, with self-offering and receiving. But the precise first step is not so much looking as being looked at, not so much seeing as being seen, being locked in the gaze of God, For Ignatius, prayer begins with the gift of God's attentiveness to me, keeping me in sight, and so a kind of hidden dynamic is at work in the rest of my prayer, including the colloquy: "Imagining Christ our Lord before me on the cross, make a colloquy" (§53). Seeing our Lord on the cross gradually becomes a larger picture. Under Christ's gaze one's whole past comes into focus, and so does what one is doing for Christ here and now, and also his awareness of what one will do. The Redeemer and Savior can con-template one's past, present, and future. In the following Weeks of the Spiritual Exercises, one is invited to be contemplative of the present and future of our eternal Lord's earthly journey. Does contemplation begin in the eyes? During his recuperation in the Loyola family castle after the battle of Pamplona, Ignatius would spend hours imagining what he would do in the service of a certain lady. Had she 63.3 2004 Hamel * A Hidden Treasure of the Ignatian F_.vercises one day looked at him--whoever she was? On another occasion Ignatius "saw clearly a likeness of our Lady with the Holy Child Jesus, at the sight of which he received a very extraordinary consolation."4 Did this extraordinary consolation include the gaze of Mother and Child on him? In Manresa he was mesmerized by the dazzling sight of a serpent: "Somehow it seemed to him that it had the shape of a serpent, and it had many things which shone like eyes, though they weren't eyes. He used to take much delight and be consoled by seeing this thing."s In addition Ignatius would speak of his "interior eyes." He saw with his interior eyes "some things like white:rays which were coming from above. ¯ . He saw clearly with his understanding how Jesus Christ our Lord was present in that most holy sacra-ment. Often, and for a long time, as he was in prayer, he used to see with his interior eyes the humanity of Christ. ¯. Were he to say twenty or forty times, he wouldn't be so bold as to judge that this was a lie . Our Lady too he has seen in a similar form, without distinguishing the parts."6 From such sublime visions, it is typical of Ignatius to bring himself back to earth. "At this time God was dealing with him in the same way as a schoolteacher deals with a child, teaching him . His clear judgment [is] that God was dealing with him in this way.''7 What kind of teachei- other than God allows one to see with one's interior eyes? From schoolboy to errant knight "full of shame and confusion" was not a giant step for Ignatius. In the First Week of the Exercises, Ignatius can readily suppose a person of his culture would feel the disgrace of "being looked upon by his king and all in the court" with disdain, if not repugnance (§74). An even, deeper experience of the hatefulness of sin comes about as a gift of the Father and Son and of our Lady (§~63-64). To receive this gift Review for Religious is to be looked upon by each of them, one after the other. The cosmic gaze of the risen Jesus introduces the Second Week. Everyone and everything is present to the eternal Lord of all. "From the place where he dwells, he gazes on all the inhabitants of the world" (Ps 33:13-14). Before each disciple the eternal Lord pauses, looks, then calls. Whoever responds will be seated at his table, be dressed in clothes similar to his, and be seen with him in the night watches. Such imagery of being a knight beloved of his king personalizes the dream of serving an ideal leader and kingmto be fulfilled only in the company of the shepherd king, the risen Lord of all. Those who respond with full-hearted affection see themselves belong-ing to the world in altogether new ways: interreligious dia-logues, speaking new languages, adapting to new cul-tures, discovering sisters and brothers worldwide. They may also translate Iguatius's much-loved-knight imagery into their own experience, like sharing the food of their Lord--which is doing the will of the Father who sent him, being clothed with his virtues (§93). Prayer from then on occurs in one's own journey and in Christ's. A friendship grows, reverence deepens. Service no longer knows of "shoulds," but is the deed of love welling up from silence and verbal exchange, from spiritual insight, and from special moments of feeling that one is under God's loving gaze. To visit Nazareth, find one's way to Bethlehem, come to the River Jordan, ascend Mount Tabor, enter Jerusalem--wherever, with all that looking in wonder and being looked at, who is to find words or have need of words? Does one need words when con- Service no longer knows of "shoulds," but is the deed of love welling up from silence and verbal exchange. 63.3 2004 Hamel ¯ A Hidden Treasure of the Ignatian F~cercise$ templating the Infant lying in the manger and looking back at you? It would not be difficult to imagine that, when Jesus is leaving Nazareth and you with him, our Lady would be looking at you as well. When present with Jesus in the waters of the Jordan, would not you too be looked at by the Father? (§273). When speaking to his beloved dis-ciples about the beatitudes, how striking that Jesus exhorts them to use their talents, letting their "light shine before people so that they may see your good deeds and gl6rify your Father" (§278). Would you too be caught in that smile of his? On Mount Tabor Christ our Lord became transfigured, and his face shone like the sun and his clothing like snow (§284). Did Peter, James, and John know who was looking at them? When the woman who showed "great love" heard Jesus saying "Your faith has saved you, go in peace," was she not being looked at with love? (§282). St. Peter denied him, but later, after Jesus looked at him, went outside and wept bitterly (§292). Pilate took Jesus and had him flogged; they struck him blows in the face (§295). Were his eyes closed against the blows? And when on the cross he commended St. John to his mother and his mother to St. John, what kind of look was he giving them at that moment? (§297). In his first appearance on the day of the resurrection, the very silence of the .Gospels already suggests that Jesus' and Mary's wordless looking at each other was enough. "The way friends are accustomed to console one another" is often a matter of exchanging heartfelt looks (§224). Ignatius stresses that the risen Jesus appeared many times to the disciples and spoke with them (§311). How often were those "words" simply looks? Even at table eating, Ignatius contemplates. "While eating one should imagine that one is seeing Christ our Lord eating with his apostles, considering the way he Review for Religious drinks, the way he looks around, and the way he talks" (§214). Is there any end to the breadth and lerigth and height of when Christ our Lord looks at you contem-plating all his mysteries? All the seeking and finding, the asking and receiving, all the knowing and loving blend into being looked upon, gazed upon, endlessly, so it seems, in a d!scipleship of friend to friend. Is it merely a coincidence that in Igna~ius's Exercises the final mystery to be contemplated presents Jesus' dis-ciples still looking? "Men of Galilee, why do you stand looking up toward heaven? This Jesus who has been taken from you will come in the same way as you saw him go to heaven" (§312, Acts 1:11). Were the angels subtly inviting the disciples to find their risen Lord look-ing at them in and through his sisters and brothers? Ignatius's long-standing desire to be placed with the Son surely reflects repeated visions of being looked at by the Lord. To be placed with the Son is to be under his gaze forever. This school of contemplation, if it may be so called, takes place on the run. One is being taught while on a journey. In the full thirty-day Exercises, the introduc-tory exercise of prayer is repeated four or five times daily. Before a word is exchanged, the Teacher is simply look-ing, and thereby teaching contemplation, teaching peo-ple to see what the Lord sees, to see ourselves as the Lord sees us, to see others as the Lord sees them. Then, when somewhere along the journey our Lord looks upon us, that look is a reflection of ourselves, like an imitation in reverse. What we see is Christ our Lord being where we find ourselves, aware of what is going on in us and making it known to us. The journey is not quite the same any more; we are in new territory with the Lord. Ignatius alludes to this kind of experience when he recalls the surreptitious visit he made to the Mount of Olives: 63.3 2004 Hamel ¯ A Hidden Treasure of the Igr~ti~ Exercises When they found out in the monastery that he had gone off like this without a guide, the friars took vig-orous s~teps to look for him. So, as he was coming down from the Mount of Olives, he came upon a Christian of the cincture, who was a servant in the monastery. He had a big staff, and with a show of great anger was gesturing as if really to give it to him, and coming up to him he grabbed him roughly by the arm. He let himself be taken readily, but the good man never let him go. And, as he went along this path in this fashion, grabbed by the Christian of the cincture, he had great consolation from our Lord, in that it seemed to him he was seeing Christ always over him. And, until he arrived at the monastery, this lasted all the time in great abundance,s Although this was not by any means the first time Ignatius saw Christ our Lord, it is worth noting how his language catches a different, if not new, experience. Ignatius does not say Christ appeared to him, but he sees Christ "always over him," as if hovering over him, as though walking with him down the path from Bethphage into Jerusalem. It is also worth noting how Ignatius names the consolation. His consolation occurs in what he sees: "seeing Christ always over him." Was Ignatius see-ing Christ in his passion along the Via Dolorosa, but reflecting his own experience of being bound and led into Jerusalem? This had been the city of his dreams, but, after the Franciscan superior told him he had to leave it, it became the place of his own passion. In Ignatius's Spiritual Diary we are let in on similar experiences. As if a new mutuality is being revealed, Jesus accompanies Ignatius before the Father. On Monday, 2 5 February, the feast of St. Matthias, Ignatius is celebrat-ing Mass alone: I entered into the Mass with great devotion, warmth, and tears, at times losing the power of speech. During the prayers to the Father, it seemed that Jesus was presenting them, or accompanied those that I was say- Review for Religious ing, before the Father; and I felt or saw in a way that cannot be explained in those terms? Two days later, on the first day of Lent, Ignatius was in the chapel praying. He writes: I entered the chapel and while praying felt, or to put it more exactly, I saw, not by natural power, the Blessed Trinity and also Jesus who was representing me, or placing me before the Trinity or acting as medi-ator close to the Blessed Trinity, that I might com-municate in that intellectual vision. On feeling and seeing in this way I was covered in tears and love but with Jesus as the object; and toward the Blessed Trinity, a respect of submission more like a reverential love than anything else. Later I felt in a similar way that Jesus was performing the same task when I thought of praying to the Father, for it seemed and I could feel within me that he was doing everything before the Father and the Blessed Trinity.1° Jesus, the Mediator par excellence, so identifies with Ignatius that, in presenting Ignatius to the Father, it seems that Jesus is presenting himself to the Father. On the other hand, when Ignatius humbles himself before the Blessed Trinity, not out of fear but with a reverential love, it seems that he has entered into the very senti-ments of Jesus himself. What happened to Moses springs to mind: he talked to God face to face (Ex 33:11). In the beginning, however, "Moses hid his face from God, for he was afraid to look at God" (Ex 3:6). The sight of the burning bush was only a beginning, but a journey begun leads to other beginnings. Seeing and being seen are wondrous beginnings in themselves, but others follow: not only sight but also sound, not only sound but also silence. Memories long buried may come into view; new and hardly namable feelings may arise. Contemplation is a new and mostly unspoken language that may come more and more into play on the journey. To see in this way the language spoken by our Savior's eyes--to learn 63.3 2004 Hamel * A Hidden Treasure of the lgnatian Exercises it and respond in it--is to be seen by the Father, to see him as he is, and to become like him. Perhaps this would be the ultimate grace, the hidden treasure, of the Spiritual Exercises. Notes i Bernard of Clairvaux, "On the Song of Songs," Vol. 4, trans. Irene Edmonds (Kalamazoo: Cistercian Publications, 1980), p. 35. 2 St. Ignatius of Loyola: Personal Writings, trans. Joseph A. Munitiz and Philip Endean (London: Penguin Books, 1996), p. 300. 3 A new translation from the "vulgate" Latin text, The Spiritual Exercises of Saint Ignatius, trans. Pierre Wolff (Liguori, Missouri: Triumph, 1997), p. 25, §75. 4 Personal Writings, Reminiscences, p. 16 (=Autobiography, § 10). s Reminiscences, p. 21 (=Autobiography, §19). 6 Reminiscences, p. 26 (=Autobiography, §29). 7 Reminiscences, p. 25 (=Autobiography, §27). s Reminiscences, p. 35 (=Autobiography, §48). 9 Personal Writings, p. 86 (=Spiritual Diary, §24). 1o Personal Writings, p. 87 (=Spiritual Diary, §26). Review for Religious SEAN SAMMON Fidelity and Commitment: Letter to a Young Marist Brother Dear Zebulun, After our general chapter I decided to write to our young brothers. You number more than eight hundred, and I was eager to get in touch with you to offer a word of encouragement. Zebulun, you and our other young brothers give me and many more older brothers great hope that a new day is dawning for our Marist life and mission throughout the world. So many of you tell me how eager you are to embrace and live fully the five calls found in our general chapter message. "Center your lives in Jesus," the delegates wrote, "for upon this foundation our life is built. Be sowers of hope: by means of new and renewed initiatives in evangelization, education, and solidarity, draw closer to the poorest and most marginalized of young people. Join efforts Se~in Sammon FMS, now superior general of the Marist Brothers, wrote for us in 1992 and 1993. His address is Fratelli Maristi delle Scuole; C.P. 10250; 00144 Roma, Italy. 63.3 2004 Sammon ¯ Fidelity and Commitment with our lay parmers to clarify more fully their identity and ours and to collaborate more closely in mission, spirituality, formation. Build communities where forgiveness is a habit and reconciliation no stranger. Do all things in Mary's way." A challenging agenda, but one that many of you appear eager to implement! You have come to religious life during a turbulent period in its history. The world in which you grew up is also very different from the one in which many of us began our Marist life. We look to benefit from your experience with young people and your understanding of their joys and preoccupations. We are eager to hear from you what young people need from us who are cormnitted to sharing the Good News of Jesus Christ with them. Never cease to challenge us with your hopes and dreams, and do not hesitate to share with us your fears and concerns as well. I write as your brother, recalling my own years as a young brother and remembering the energy and the distracting preoccupations that often marked those years~ I remember a sense of adventure, but also sometimes feeling that a word of encouragement or some clarifying light would have been very welcome indeed. Today I seek to cast some light on fidelity and commitment. If this seems an unusual topic with which to begin, it is nevertheless one that has come from conversations with young brothers. It is a topic on the minds of a good many of them. With this letter I attempt to respond to their questions and concerns--but without forgetting my chief purpose: getting in contact with you and bringing some encouragement. Why This Concern with Fidelity. and Commitment? During my visit with a group of young brothers in Bolivia, I was asked: "Why do you think so many young Review for Religious brothers are leaving our congregation?" The question was direct and needed an answer, for it represented the mind of many in the room. I offered a few words in response, but I knew my reply was not adequate. So the question stayed with me. It remains with me still. Some may insist that responsibility for leaving the institute lies with the various individuals, but that explanation is too facile for me. Over the years some dear friends of mine have left. Good and honest men, on fire with a love of Jesus Christ and a desire to make a difference in the lives of poor kids, they have decided to steer their life in a different direction from our Marist brotherhood. Each time I found myself asking: "For what reasons is he leaving?" and "What makes me stay?" Others may think and say that those who request dispensation from their vows do so because they have grown lukewarm and found themselves unable to cope with the disappointments that are the part of any life commitment lived well. Here again the explanation seems too facile. After all, haven't most of us from time to time thought about leaving? Aren't we all sometimes lukewarm? If we are human, we all experience occasional problems with one or several of these important dimensions of our lives: relationships, sexuality, faith, cormnunity life, our ministry, and even the priorities that the members of our province may establish. Zebulun, I believe that you and I will find an answer to the question put to me in Bolivia if we can deepen our Fidelity helps us remain true to what we have pledged despite the contradictory values that we might encounter on life's journey. -2-85- 63.3 2004 Sammon ¯ Fidelity and Commitment understanding of the nature of fidelity. After all, isn't it the virtue that helps people like us overcome feelings of staleness that sometimes threaten our life commitments? Fidelity helps us remain true to what we have pledged despite the contradictory values that we might encounter on life's journey. God is faithful to us. Keeping that fact in mind, let us take a look at that time in life when the dream that God has in mind for each of us began to take shape. Can you remember the earliest time when people asked you what you were going to do with your life? Whatever our responses were, they were influenced by our experiences, our culture, our personality and natural gifts, the expectations that others had for us, and of course God. The word vocation sometimes describes our response to this very same question: we feel called. Before Vatican Council 17, however, vocation was commonly used only for people who entered a seminary or a religious congregation. Thankfully, the present-day understanding of vocation is much broader. Everyone is called by God to something and therefore has a vocation. A religious vocation is one type Of vocation, but all who respond to God,s dream for them are living out a vocation. God's Dream for Me and the Mystery of Election At the center of your vocation and mine lies the mystery of "election." The second chapter of our Marist Constitutions and Statutes says it well: God called you and me by name. God led us into the desert and spoke to our hearts. God sent us out on mission. Simply put, God has a dream for each of us and is eager to share it and lead us into it. But he uses very human means to get the message across. Our awareness of God's dream for ourselves can often be traced back to our answer to the question with which we began this section: What am I going to do with my life? Review for Religious Our answer usually began as a fluid vision of the kind of person I am, of who I was becoming in the world. Often enough I modeled myself after adults I admired. When I think back to my own teenage years, I remember that the brothers who taught me in secondary school made quite an impression on me. I wanted to be like them. They were effective in their ministry and obviously enjoyed working with young people. Most of all, they were happy--happy, not in the sense of hilarity, but happy because of their deep sense of purpose, their dedication. So strong was the impression that these brothers made on me that I went to the juniorate at age fifteen. God got his message across to me through a group of---as I later realized---all-too-human men nevertheless doing something that would be worth the gift of my life. Over timeI learned that my early-adolescent dream, too, contained illusions of its own. Maybe you had the same experience. Sometimes I thought of myself as larger than life. During the years since, I have often wondered whether-I considered this inflated view of myself necessary for doing all the things I believed others expected me to do. Eventually I learned another important lesson: The reasons that brought me to religious life are not the reasons that kept me from leaving. That's right. As your vocation or mine matures, we understand the deeper reasons behind our choice to be a brother. We understand ourselves and our way of life as Marist brothers better than when we were first attracted to it. God leads us to a deeper experience of his love for each of us. A vocation, consequently, is not a once-and-for-all call that comes sometime during adolescence. Rather, it is a daily and lifelong conversation with God. For you and me to be faithful to our vocation as Marist brothers, then, we will have to do a great, deal more than refresh our 63.3 2004 Sammon * Fidelity and Commitment memories of an invitation that came early in life. Instead, we will need to practice what Marcellin Champagnat called the presence of God. God's Dream and. the Rich Young Man Before moving on, let us look at another question. What happens if I fail to follow God's dream for me? After all, this dream of God's is something freely offered; I do not have to accept it. Permit me to respond with a story. Several years ago, during the course of a workshop at the English College in Rome, I met a young man there whom I will call Stephen. This Roman seminary prepares priests for all the dioceses of Great Britain, and Stephen was a third-year student. Before entering the college and formation for priesthood, he had been a successful businessman. During breakfast one morning I asked him what had brought him to the seminary. His response was disarming: "I don't think I have a vocation to ;priesthood, but apparendy God does!" He said that with the passage of time he was just beginning to feel at home with that notion. In its early days a religious vocation is not always welcomed with joy! So God's dream for you and for me is freely offered and can be accepted or put aside. In putting it aside, however, we run a risk. Though we may live a life that is happy and fulfilling, and envied by others, at some deep level .we may sense that an important part of our life is missing. All three synoptic Gospels tell of a rich young man who came to Jesus and asked what he had to do to possess eternal life. Jesus said, "Keep the commandments." The man said he had always kept them. Jesus, looking beyond this young man's lifelong conscientiousness, saw what his practice of religion could be: something much better than keeping his heart to himself and taking pride in observing the Law and avoiding mistakes. And so, looking on him with love, Review for Religious Jesus said: "There is still one thing you lack. Sell everything that you own and distribute the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me." The rich young man was faced now with having to choose one of two life directions. One would include God's dream for him, and the other would not. We know the end of the story well. This rich young man failed to accept the Lord's invitation, and he went away sad. Zebulun, I wonder if you sometimes feel like this rich young man, as I do. As life unfolds, we discover that every commitment lived well demands sacrifice, allowing others to have a claim over our time, talents, and energies. The Lord invites us to take up certain tasks, not because we want to, but because our presence and efforts are necessary. Some of us are perennially slow learners, and so it is only on arriving at the end of our thirties that we discover and admit that we have long been straying from what God has had in mind for us. At that point we face a choice much like the rich young man's. Midlife provides the opportunity, once again, to move our life more in the direction of God's dream for us. Our twentieth general chapter, with its theme of vitality, offered us a similar opportunity. Those who participated in that gathering and our lay consultants did not produce an elaborate pastoral plan, nor send us a message that included many details. No, their final communiqu6 was very simple. What it asked of us today as.Marist brothers is a revolution of the heart. Simply put, we must fall in love with God, once again. Vocations and Risk and Times of Change In making any permanent commitment, you and I must surrender ourselves to someone who is beyond our control. Every vocation, therefore, has an element of risk; 63.3 2004 Sammon ¯ Fidelity and Commitment it is a leap into the unknown. We are called upon to take a chance with our lives, to take a risk, to go beyond the information we have on hand. Some people prefer to wait until they have all the information necessary to make the best possible decision, but this course of action has its own danger. If you or I wait to be absolutely sure of ourselves before taking action, then we will be dead before we do anything meaningful. So let us keep our vocations alive and lively by taking risks again, and again, and again. Most of us admit to having "second thoughts" from time to time about the important commitments we have made in life. My own questions and doubts occurred during my late twenties and then again in my early forties. I mentioned earlier that I went to the juniorate at age fifteen. Ten to fifteen years later I was asking myself whether I chose too soon. I had the notion that waiting several more years before making a definitive choice about my life would have spared me the burden I felt at age twenty-eight. The truth of the matter, however, is that none of us escapes consequences. Had I delayed making a life commitment, I would have suffered a different set of consequences. God saw fit to invite me to make a move at fifteen; he invites others at eighteen, or twenty-two, or thirty. Some people point out that the doubts we all experience about our vocation often occur during times of transition. In people's lives, periods of change and turmoil alternate with stable periods. The latter run about six or seven years and are often marked by productivity and a sense of well-being. People have their sights set on the future, on building a life for themselves. In contrast, transitions are times when people look back and have second thoughts. These periods may last four or five years and may begin with an ending. Many brothers feel it deeply and at length when a parent dies, Review for Religious or when they leave one ministry for another, or move from one community to another. Or they may fall in love, fail at a task, have a spiritual awakening, become involved in a renewal program or advanced study, or turn a certain age. No matter what precipitates them, changes do occur and bring some kind of ending to what has gone before. Most of us believe that new beginnings take place quickly. Life's transitions, however, manage to surprise us by bringing an extended period of uncertainty during which we feel "up in the air" or "lost at sea." About all we are sure of is that we cannot go back to the world we once knew. Eventually transitions comes to a close when new beginnings get well underway. We cannot, however, speed them up. They happen in their own good time. Renewal programs, counseling and spiritual direction, and talking with community members, friends, and confidants can help us reap greater benefit from any time of transition. Frank discussion about our situa-tlon with a person or persons whom we trust is one of the best ways to profit from a period of transition, but these conversations will not make the transition happen faster. Well used, though, periods of transition will reward us. Times of transition are times of grace. These are the desert experiences during which God speaks to our hearts. They are marked by some common feelings. We find ourselves disillusioned, or disengaged from our community or other people. The roles that we fill in life often do not make much sense anymore. Though these periods may frighten and disturb us, leave us resdess and uncertain, they are times of purification, of deepening our understanding, of opportunity to rework our life Times of transition are times of grace. 63.3 2004 Sammon ¯ Fidelity and Commitment commitments and come to love them more deeply. Single people, married people, priests, and men and women religious all go through times of transition. We need not be alarmed when they come, but we should handle them intelligently, and seek advice in doing so. One Person's Story Here is an example of one person's life transition. Several years ago, while I was visiting a province, a young brother whom I will call Michael came to speak with me. He was heavy of heart and told of being in love with a young woman, a religious sister whom he had met while taking some classes. He was heavy of heart because he felt divided between loving this young woman and having an equal love for our Marist brotherhood and mission. He asked me for my reaction to his situation. I said, "Michael, it sounds like Christmas morning!" Looking surprised, he asked what I meant. I said that the relationship he described sounded wonderful, but that, as he probably realized, he faced some difficult decisions. He could not live for any length of time divided between this new relationship and his love of Marist life and mission. Eventually he would have to answer a question that all of us face in life: On whom or what do I set my heart? This spiritual question lies within every life transition. None of us can live for long with a divided heart. Eventually we must decide where we stand in life and what we hold dear. These major life commitments, then, become over time the touchstone for many of the other important decisions we must make in life. And what about this young brother today, several years later? Michael took his life situation in hand, as did the young sister. Both began to meet with spiritual directors, and he met with a counselor as well--and he began talking more honestly with the members of his community. Eventually Michael and his friend realized Review for Religious that the relationship they shared was an important source of support to their respective vocations. Today he finds his commitment to our congregation and mission stronger and deeper than in the past, and the young sister has a similar experience. Over time both realized that their community-life commitments and the values they hold dear are a steady compass helping them make the right choices in life. This young brother showed a great deal of courage. He could have avoided discussing his relationship, or deceived himself by minimizing its importance in his life. Instead, he accepted the grace that God gave him and found himself growing more aware of God's dream for him and accepting all that that dream required of him. Commitments and Freedom What is a commitment? To begin with, every. commitment involves a call. By one means or another, Jesus Christ gets our attention and invites us into a loving relationship with him. The mystery of election obviously plays an important role in the process. The relationship that we have with Jesus is the foundation upon which our religious vocations are built. Every commitment calls for a choice. And you and I both know that the choices we make in life help to define us. If your provincial asks you to decide between preparing to be a formator or working on a master's degree in mathematics, you quickly realize that the choice you make will affect the structure of your life at least for the immediate future, and probably also during the years to come. Finally, every commitment involves a promise. A promise is a particular kind of choice because it describes something that we intend to do in the future. For example, when you and I made our commitment in our Marist brotherhood to be poor, chaste, and obedient, we 63.3 2004 Sammon ¯ Fidelity and Commitment Freedom refers to our capacity to be self-determining. were not merely making a prediction about our future or reporting on our present state of mind. We were stating a firm intention and binding ourselves to a future course of action. So what is the advantage of making any type of commitment? To make a promise is the surest way for any of us to determine the direction of our life rather than to have it set for us. At first glance, freedom and commitment appear incompatible. Many of us have been led to believe that our happiness in life is related directly to the number of options that we have available. And conventional wisdom insists that to increase our freedom we need only increase our capacity for having our own way. This line of argument is aimed at convincing us that any life commitment is best put off, because it will only limit us, rein us in, make us less free. Life experience, though, reveals the flaw in this thinking. Zebulun, I think you and I both realize that a failure to commit ourselves does not ensure greater freedom. Freedom, after all, refers to our capacity to be self-determining. In promising to live out a particular way of life or to be a partner in a lifelong relationship, people choose freely to grow in one direction and not in another. Yes, it is important to be an adolescent for a while, to explore and experience different options for living, but it is equally important not to be an adolescent for a lifetime. All of us continue to explore throughout the course of life, but those among us who are perpetually adolescent use exploration to avoid ever making a gift of our lives, In the end we do not live life, we dabble in it. In making a commitment, then, we do not surrender freedom--most often we enhance it. Any of us, in Review for Religious committing ourselves fully to our life as brothers, will likely find that our potential for spiritual, apostolic, and emotional growth is enhanced. We become more focused and have greater intimacy with God and with others. By trying to keep all our options open, by refusing to make choices and commitments, we would eventually lose our freedom. Over time our life would be determined by forces beyond our control. What about Permanent Commitments? Most of us do not have much of a problem with the idea of commitments. Some of us, however, have a problem with the notion of permanence. I would suggest, though, that there is an intrinsic connection between "forever" and some life commitments. Every day all over the world people express their love for each other through marriage vows, saying "until death do us part." They do not just pledge themselves to persevere as long as all goes well, but rather they aspire to remain together no matter what obstacles stand in their way. Never mistake "forever" with stagnation or a lack of growth. The notion of "temporary commitment" makes me uncomfortable. It apparently comes from the tawdry "everything is disposable" attitude in contemporary culture, and, besides, the words temporary and commitment somehow do not seem to go together. If you or I want to give five years of our lives to a project, why call that gift of rime and talent a commitment. Wouldn't some word like agreement or arrangement better convey what we mean? What justifies a permanent commitment? Something quite simple: no better soil for human gro~vtb has yet been found. A permanent commitment, though, must always be judged by the fruit it bears. If any of us becomes bored, indifferent, and resentful in his permanent commitment, people wonder what it contributes to the 63.3 2004 Sammon * Fidelity and Commitment vitality of the group. They know that making our vows does not signal the journey's end. Rather it heralds a journey well begun. Perseverance is not necessarily a good measure of fidelity. Haven't some of us lived and worked with brothers who appeared so unhappy in our way of life and ministry that we had to ask 6urselves why he stays. Surely God did not plan for him to be so miserable in our way of life and our ministry to poor children and young people! Today, however, we face a phenomenon more visible than in the past and best described as the "breaking of commitments." You and I have known brothers, good men, who early in the course of their lives committed themselves generously to God and to others and who, over time, strove to live out faithfully the commitment they made. Then, as the years passed and their relationships with God, themselves, and others unfolded, these very same men came. to question the promises they had made in good faith so many years ago. Is Perseverance Always a Sign of Fidelity? In the enthusiasm that marked their early years of Marist life, they had made vows intending them to be permanent. With the passage of time, however, they found that, no matter how hard they tried, they could not live them out fully. During times of life transition--and for a number of us these changes occur when we are about thirty years old and then again during our early forties--many seek an answer to this question: Is it fidelity when someone clings to a vowed commitment and rigidly perseveres without facing honestly the .dull performance and lack of life that appear to be its fruit? ¯ Fidelity is at times exercised in change as well as in stability. For most of us~ our commitment to Jesus as Marist brothers reflects~ the deepest currents in our lives and significant aspects of our.personality. To some of our Review for Religious brothers, however, time reveals that more than anything else their commitment merely serves their need for security or provides a place to be of service to people. For a few other brothers, there is a growing realization that important elements of their commitment have died. For these last groups, the task at midlife is not simply to understand more fully the "mixed motives" that draw them to one vocation or another. Rather, it is to see that they have been living their life on a deficient grasp of some important truths or that their once cherished dream is in pieces. Moments of profound sadness, loss, and confusion accompany their growing awareness that sometimes fidelity to God, to oneself, and to others may be exercised in acknowledging that somehow a com-mitment has died or should be treated that way. We must, however, not use this line of reasoning to put aside a life commitment too easily. Whenever any of us are confronted with serious questions and doubts about our commitment as brothers, we must do no less than commit ourselves to a careful d

Issue 60.1 of the Review for Religious, 2001. ; Renewal Vocation Spiritual Legacy Empowerment JANUARY FEBRUARY 2001 VOLUME 60 NUMBER 1 Review for Religious'helps people respond and be faithful to God's universal call to holiness' ' ° by making available to them the spiritual legacies tbat flow-from the cbarisms of Catbolic consecrated life. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bimonthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-977-7363 ° Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: review@slu.edu ° V~reb site: www.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP Mount St. Mary's Seminary; Emmitsburg, Maryland 21727 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2001 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library, clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. MI copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. view for religious LIVING OUR CATHOLIC LEGACIES Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming sJ Clare Boehmer ASC Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizfibeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm James and Joan Felling Adriafi Gaudin SC Sr. Raymond Marie Gerard FSP Joel Rippinger OSB Bish6p Carlos A. Sevilla SJ Patricia Wittberg SC JANUARY FEBRUARY 2001 VOLUME 60 NUMBER 1 contents 6 renewal Beyond Jubilee and Jubilees A. Paul Dominic SJ relates the biblical notion of jubilee to the teaching of Jesus and the practice of the early church in order to point to ways that we might live the spirit of jubilee in our Christian life today. 20 A Continuing Pentecost: Appreciating "Ecclesia in Asia'~ James H. Kroeger MM shares the optimism and gratitude that pervade the apostolic exhortation Ecclesia in Asia as he summarizes and evaluates its various chapters. 30 40 vocation Who Is a Brother? Philip Armstrong CSC traces the church reality of brothers through history to the present-day challenges. Vocational Being Donald Macdonald SMM stresses that, if we Christians need to adore the gift of God in Christ from the core of our being, then Scripture provides the practical means to make our own this perspective of faith. 2j Review for Religious 48 spiritual legacy Spirituality for Mission: Marguerite Bourgeoys and the Ignatian Tradition Mary Ann Foley CND traces the originality of the missionary spirituality of Marguerite Bourgeoys, drawing upon a varity of sources including the Ignatian tradition. 62 The 350th Anniversary of the Sisters of St. Joseph Joan L. Roccasalvo CSJ gives evidence that Ignatius Loyola's Spiritual Exercises are the inspiration and source of Jean-Pierre Mddaille's Maxims of Perfection, which contain the entire spirit of the foundational documents of the Sisters of St. Joseph. 76 empowerment Till the End of My Days Agnes Cunningham SSCM identifies five factors that have proved helpful in her actively pursuing retirement. 80 Power Made Perfect in Weakness: Ministering to the Dying and Bereaved Laurel M. O'Neal offers a correction to our common misconceptions of death, its relation to sin, and especially the relation of God to death. departments 4 Prisms 99 Canonical Counsel: Conclusion of the Novitiate 105 Book Reviews January-February 2001 prisms Review for Religious cele-brates its sixtieth year of publication. Sixty years is not the milestone of the younger fifty or the more dra-matic one hundred. Of course, it is not in the same league as a millennium. But a sixty-year anniversary does present the occasion for a pause--a time for assess-ment, for evaluation, for celebration, for gratitude. We have so many of these "pauses" built into our ordinary life that we can forget how important their place is for the healthy living of life, including the spir-itual. The changing seasons of the year, with their cycles of growth and dormancy, present one rhythmic pattern observed in religious practices of people through the centuries. As we quantify the rhythm of a day into our minutes and hours and then measure fur-ther into days of a week and weeks of a month and months of a year, we are struck at how we humanly have built in so many pauses into ordinary living. As a matter of fact, we humans are not meant to be "energ-erizer bunnies" (as in a famous TV ad about a brand of battery) that just keep going and going, always doing more of the same. No, we are people who have waking and sleeping patterns, who enjoy times of work and of recreation, who seek out periods of solitude and of social interaction, who are marked by successes and failures and those many "gray-area" projects whose value remains unclear. We are meant to pause, to be a Review for Religious reflective people, because we are formed by the Bible--that very reflectively written account of God's dealings with his people. We have just been celebrating the biblical jubilee year as a divinely inspired pause. We Christians are a people who appre-ciate the flow of a liturgical year, with its celebratory pauses that bring home in ever new ways the key moments of our faith-life with God. Though there are these many natural and ecclesial pauses in our life, we seem to be unwilling to choose such a rhythm in our personal daily living. Both in our personal life and in our parish or community projects, we often do not take time to set and identify some intermediate goals. We rush on, instead of reflecting on what we have done up to this point, on what changes might be desirable, on how much gratitude we should have and express for all the cooperation we have received, and perhaps on what mistakes we have made and whose feelings we may have bruised. We Christians need to make time to reflect, to assess and celebrate and apologize, as our way of working with God. We need to choose to build this kind of pause into our day (like the Ignatian daily awareness examen) and into the works and projects we are busy on in concert with others. In commu-nity we need to choose to build in these pauses so that commu-nity life and community projects can make wise choices and avoid sad crises. If we choose to make "anniversary-like pauses" ordinary and so build them into our daily life, we will discover a power source that makes for a physically, psychologically, and spiritually healthy life. We have had our new year's celebration, pausing to ring out the millennium year of 2000 and to welcome the year of 2001. As we enter into this new year, perhaps we all need to look for timely occasions when we .can pause--to celebrate, to assess, to correct, to revitalize for the continuing effort. By such choices, we grow into being the reflective Christians God's word calls us to be. We meet God, in his gift of time to us, by pausing to appreciate it and use it well. David L. Fleming SJ Janualsv-February 2001 renewa A. PAUL DOMINIC Beyond Jubilee and Jubilees The celebration of any jubilee is necessarily public. It cannot be thought of except in social terms. Even in per-sonal jubilees, which are different from institutional jubilees, individual jubilarians do not make their jubilee a private affair; they invite their relations and friends to a celebration. In so doing almost all follow the unwrit-ten bourgeois rule of making their celebration an exclu-sive affair of their particular class and so upholding the social scale. When such segregated festivities are arranged by the rich (and not the poor, who anyway have nothing to celebrate because they have nothing to cele-brate with), they hurt even the rich, not just some other people, because they bring the burden of keeping up with the Joneses. The same thing happens, mutatis mutandis, in institutions and nations, with subtle but real harm to humanity. This is not a modern phenomenon but an old, unfortunate human one. Jesus saw it rampant among his people and ~ought to save them from bringing harm in this way to themselves and others. And so he did not think it unbecoming to tell his host during the meal to imagine another pattern of invitations, one that would break the tradition of inviting select persons or rich ones A. Paul Dominic SJ writes again from Satyodayam; 12-5-33 S. Lallaguda; Secunderabad 500 017; India. Review for Religious or relatives and instead invite particularly the poor and the hand-icapped (Lk 14:12-14). When he was thus breaking new ground in the matter of celebration, was he not inspired by the good news of jubilee that he had learned as a Jew from the Hebrew Scriptures in the bosom of his Hebrew family? Going Back to the Source of Jubilee The very word jubilee is biblical, with a specific religious con-notation of joy. Though it has come into secular parlance, all those who celebrate "jubilees," personal or institutional, would do well to be aware of the term's centuries-old wealth of meaning. The joy that is now associated with jubilees in the secular or religious worlds looks back on achievements of excellence, but the jubilee joy in biblical times looked forward to achievements still to come; also, it involved the whole of Hebrew society, without excluding any class. While all celebrated the jubilee, both the haves and the have-nots, they participated in it differently. The former were behind the whole celebration, promoting it, while the latter benefited from it. The promoters were concerned with building a promising future, not so much for themselves as for others, who unlike them had had a harrowing past of financial reverses. Who on earth could have had this joyful interest in others rather than themselves except God and God's faithful people? Hearing the cry of people who, perhaps even through their own fault, had lost their ancestral holdings and consequently their own rights of freedom and dignity, God would have the losers gain back their lost land and their very persons. As all land and all peo-ple belonged primarily to God, God would ordain a time of grace once every fifty years, when good, law-abiding persons would come forward and voluntarily restore to the unfortunates whatever the latter had lost to them even by way of fair deals. The very idea of people responding to God's call to selfless joy on behalf of the deprived will be effective only to the extent that it is appreciated for its inspire~t and sensible holiness. People will be most joyful in their jubilee only when they thoroughly accept that it is a holy thing for them and declare so (Lv 25:10 and 12). The biblical jubilee is all joy only when it is all holy. It is first and foremost holy and, as such, it cannot but be joyful. It is the holi-ness of the God of joy that makes for the joy of all his people, who are to be holy like him. January-February 2001 Dominic ¯ Beyond yubilee and Jublilees This causal link of holiness to joy in the celebration of jubilees cannot be emphasized too much. The joyous celebra-tion of jubilee enjoined in Leviticus 25:8-17 and 23-55 forms part of the Law of Holiness in Leviticus 17-27. The dynamics of jubilee should be understood in the light of the most important piece in the Law of Holiness: "You shall be holy, for I the Lord your God am holy" (Lv 19:2b). How is this orthodoxy of holiness to become, the orthopraxis of joy? This is a highly practical question even though there remains the theoretical question of how it is possible that our human nature can share in the nature of God, namely, holiness. Leviticus and the rest of the Bible have no use for such questions, but hand down in God's name ways of living that are pleasing to the very God of holiness and joy. With the stunning command to human beings to be holy, there came from God clear directions about how they were to deal with one another. He wanted his people to associate with each other in ways that included practi-cal concern for the poor and the weak and the handicapped so that they would not feel left out: When you reap the harvest of your land, you shall not reap to the very edges of your field, or gather the gleanings of your harvest. You shall not strip your vineyard bare, or gather the fallen grapes of your vineyard; you shall leave them for the poor and the alien: I am the Lord your God. (Lv 19:9-10, emphasis added) This was a practical minimum test of the maximum law he enjoined on them of cultivating a loving disposition towards one another, abjuring grudges and hate (Lv 19:18-19). If people had lived in this original spirit of divinely ordained love, shown in personal dealings and shaped in concrete societal action, there would have been no urgency for such an institution as the jubilee. From the beginning, people did not abide by, but slid from, this ideal. To stem this slide and to set a minimum for the people to reach, God brought about the program of the sabbatical year (Lv 25:2-7). Its enactment, going back to the wake of the Exodus reads thus: For six years you shall sow your land and gather in its yield; but the seventh year you shall let it rest and lie fallow, so that the poor of your people may eat . (Ex 23:10-11, emphasis added) . Though no definite information is found in the Bible's his- Review for Religious torical books about how and how long the sabbatical law was observed,~ there is no denying that it was (see Ne 10:32 and 1 M 6:49-53), though not always (see 2 Ch 36:21). And that is why one may dare say--in this field there are as many opinions as scholars-- that the law was further developed to include remission of debts in favor of the poor and, what is more, to be generous to them. Aiming at abolishing poverty, the new law unambiguously said: If there is among you anyone in need . . do not be hard-hearted or tight-fisted toward your needy neighbor. You should rather open your hand, willingly lending enough to meet the need, whatever it may be. Be careful that you do not entertain a mean thought, thinking, "The seventh year, the year of remission, is near," and therefore view your needy neighbor with hostility and give nothing . Give liberally and be ungrudging when you do so. (Dt 15:7-10, emphasis added) Who could better this law? For all its beauty (if law can be said to be beautiful), who would want this kind of beauty for them-selves? Who would observe this beautiful law? Indeed, there may be people now who would question its very place in a legal corpus. Though this was presumably not the case then, still, given human nature, it would not be surprising if it was practiced in its violation rather than observance. For this reason, and with a view to getting people to observe the high ideal of the law, it was drastically changed with regard to the time of its enforcement. The new law, unlike the old, would come into force not every seven years as before, but every fifty years, heralding what came to be known as the jubilee year, called so after the instrument used for the announcement, namely, yobe! (Hebrew for trumpet). Though the sabbatical law was thus made less burdensome (one would not have had to observe it more than once in one's lifetime, given the biblical lifespan of eighty even for the. strong), still the jubilee law retained the essential burden of the previous laws, namely, reversing the trend of the rich becoming richer and the poor poorer. Its complete formulation specified four things. (1) People must allow all land to lie fallow, must live on what it pro-duces by itself and has been stored, and must share with others. (2) In selling and buying, the rich should not cheat and oppress the poor, taking advantage of their plight. (3) Those who have grown richer by buying other~' properties should freely restore them to their former owners. (4) Those who own Israelites as slaves January-February 2001 Dominic ¯ Beyond g~ubilee and j~ublilees (because in their poverty they sold themselves) have to honorably release them and their families. Was the mitigated law observed? While some scholars say that it does not seem it was ever observed,z others opine cautiously that the possibility of its having been observed in the beginning of the settlement in the Holy Land cannot be ruled OUt.3 Relying on the two applications of the jubilee law to specific situations (Lv 27:16-25 and Nm 36:1-12), we may presume that there indeed was a time when the law was in force and not a dead letter. Also, ¯ from the fact that the Greek Alexander and the Roman Julius Caesar exempted their Jewish domain of Judaea from the annual tribute during the sabbatical year,4 may we not infer that the jubilee directives were at that time not out of vogue in the life of the peo-ple? It would be interesting, then, to know how they could have been carried out generation after generation. But unfortunately no historical observance of the jubilee was recorded in either the Old Testament or the New. Anyway, from the kind of juridical Judaism found in the New Testament, we have no compelling rea-son to believe that the jubilee still prevailed in practice, leaving us to wonder what ever happened to Judaism that God founded as a contrast communitys with its liberative laws, such as jubilee. Retrieving the Jubilee after Jesus Where does this le~d us? An answer may spring up from sens-ing how Jesus responded to the moribund custom of jubilee in his time. Though the word jubilee does not occur in the Gospels, the way he looked at some issues may point to his thinking on jubilee. He was surely positive in his attitude to the Law, and so we hear the puzzling logion: "Do not think that I have come to abol-ish the law or the prophets; I have come not to abolish but to ful-fill" (Mt 5:17). In so taking his stand, he was calling for right obedience to the Law: hearing the voice of God in the word of the Law, understanding God's genuine purpose, and acting on it. If he often invited attacks by those who were on the side of reli-gion, it was to challenge them to read the L~w aright according to the mind of the Lawgiver. He pointed out, too, that in the course of history the Law was sometimes mitigated or even distorted, as in the case of divorce, because of human hardness of heart. In order to accomplish the Law, he would advocate first and fore-most a return to its origin in the heart of God and a discernment Revie~v for Religious of its true relevance for the day, guided by the signs of the times, the ongoing surprise revelations of God's ways. Inspired by such a vision of the Law, Jesus would have insisted that jubilees were not occasions to be observed merely twice in a century, whether by omission or halfheartedly or even whole-heartedly. In this spirit he would have spoken searchingly: "If it was said of old that in the jubilee year you should return to the owner the land he had sold to you in his penury, I ask you, 'Why buy at all in the first place from a needy person?' Again, if it was said of old that you should not, during the jubilee, claim your money lent to the poor, I ask you, 'Why lend at all to the poor with a view to getting it back? Rather, give to anyone who asks you and, if anyone wants to borrow, do not turn away.' Again, if it was said of old that in the jubilee year you should free your slaves, I ask you, 'How dare you .ever buy out your brothers or sisters and enslave them even if they sold themselves to you in their dire need? For you are all slaves of God, and among yourselves you are brothers and sisters.'" Further, he would have told any challengers to search the Scriptures and realize how God had freed their forebears from slavery and settled them in a new land, a land that was not theirs but his, so that they might know the holy joy of living together in rich fellowship and surrounded by the blessings of Providence. Finally, in Ezekiel's fashion (Ezk 20:4-24), he would even have made them face their Roman subjugation and answer whether it was not due to their forsaking the jubilee of God and ceasing to be truly subject to the God of jubilee. It would have been with such silent thoughts that he went beyond the old jubilee and initiated a new era, calling it the year of the Lord's favor (Lk 4:19) and heralding the longed-for liberty, fulfilling Ezekiel's prophecy6 and climaxing John's preaching.7 God's own aspiration was ever to create a people witnessing to his blessing. Going Forth in the Spirit of Jubilee In picking up such possible thoughts of Jesus, what is our own jubilee aspiration and how are we to realize it? We do so by becom-ing the community of God's people and striving to do away with poverty. God's own aspi.ration was ever to create a people wit- January-February 2001 Dominic ¯ Beyond Jubilee and Jublilees nessing to his blessing. When Jesus came on the scene, he pro-claimed that constant purpose of God. When he announced God's kingdom emerging in the world, he heralded equivalendy the com-munity of God's people. Further, in imitation of his Father, he was re-creating it visibly out of the remnant that was left of the old community.8 The new community, though very much in the world, was not of it. It was fashioned to be an alternative society in the spirit of jubilee. It had its own charter, promising and promoting the fulfillment of individuals and groups in society and thus the whole society (Mt 5:3-10). Its foremost beneficiaries were the poor of all sorts, that is, those who had been all along without name, voice, or standing, like children and women, the ritually and socially outcast, and, of course, the economically awkward. Though made up of different classes, the new community would not have the distinction and segregation of the high and the low; rather, the so-called high would serve the so-called low. If such terms as highest and lowest were to be used at all, then the highest in the community would be those who, bending over for the sake of others, made themsel+es little and served them-- even washing their feet. Their insignia would not be the tradi-tional one of selfish power, privilege, and possession, but the downward mobility of service and healthy promotion of others, avoiding all competition. Their royal rule would be: "In every-thing do to others as you would have thdm do to you" (Mt 7:12). Perhaps the one incident in which almost all the above distinctive qualities of the new community came into play was Jesus' feeding the multitude and satisfying them all with the little supply of bread and fish made available by a little boy. Living in this spirit of permanent jubilee, apart from which there is no jubilee worth talking about, we dare dream of becom-ing a contrast .community of Christians, renovating the structures of the age-old world in many details and so creating places where individual and social well-being can exist. Jubilee Praxis at the Start of the First Millennium How on earth can this become part of the realm of reality? Though we may find ourselves overwhelmed by forces against true community, did Jesus not envisage such a community of the future right at the start of his ministry when he declared that the era of universal liberation was beginning there and then with him- Review for Religious self (Lk 4:21)? Did he not confirm it as he went about forming one flock On 10:16)? And, at the very end, was he not intent on drawing all to himself and forming one community (Jn 12:32)? Did he fail in all that? The pristine community of the church witnessed that he certainly did not. Indeed, it acquired early an identity of its own, distinguishing it from the surrounding com-munity and marking its way of living together. Their identity was not so much their theoretical acceptance of the gospel, but prac-tical allegiance to it with consequences in social behavior. Luke named it koinonia, meaning fellowship or communion, which "con-notes the bond of responsibility to one another enjoined on believ-ers by their assent to the gospel."9 His firsthand report of this unique phenomenon reads thus: All who believed were together and had all things in com-mon; they would sell their possessions and goods and dis-tribute the proceeds to all, as any had need. Day by day they broke bread at home and ate their food with glad and generous hearts, praising God and having the goodwill of the people. (Ac 2:44-47) Perhaps to emphasize the veracity of his report, he drew another such picture: Now the whole group of those who believed were of one heart and soul, and no one claimed private ownership of any possessions, but everything they owned was held in common . There was not a needy person among them, for as many as owned lands or houses sold them and brought the proceeds of what was sold. They laid it at the apos-tles' feet, and it was distributed to each as any had need. (Ac 4:32-35, emphasis added) The kernel of koinonia was thus communism in its best sense, namely, the community of goods which expressed, proved, and strengthened the community of spirit.1° The trial of koinonia even brought about the institution of diaconia or service (Ac 6:1-6) to oversee the practicalities of koinonia. Nothing like it had happened before in the Mosaic period, but it did not come out of the blue. It had its clear precedents as the law~ of the sabbatical and jubilee year show. The sharing of the rich with the poor envisaged by such laws did not merely look to the temporary or intermittent allevia-tion of the hardship of the.poor. Rather, it aimed at the divine ideal of annihilating poverty altogether according to the hopeful com-mand: "There shall be no poor among you" (Dt 15:4).~ January-February 2001 Dominic ¯ Beyond j-~ubilee and 3~ublilees Inspired by Jesus, the early church learned well, translating the above command into action and initiating jubilee living. The later church, as far as the 3rd century or so, followed suit in such a striking manner that the historian Pliny thought of Christians as tertia gens, a third group of people besides Romans and barbarians. Still the ideal had to be nurtured from the beginning against natural human hesitations, weaknesses, and failures. So Paul bade the Corinthians regarding help for the famine-stricken commu-nity in Jerusalem: Strive for equality; at present give from your abundance what they are short of, and some day they will repay in abundance what you lack. Then you will be equal and what Scripture says shall come true: "To him who had much, nothing was in excess; to him who had little, nothing was lacking." (2 Co 8:13-15, Christian Community Bible) The equality of everyone in the community, whether rich or poor, will remain no more than an illusion as long as .economic inequality remains. That is a warning implicitly given by James, when he confronted Christian assemblies with their old unequal dealings with the rich and poor: For, if a person with gold rings and in fine clothes comes into your assembly and if a poor person in dirty clothes also comes in, and if you take notice of the one wearing the fine clothes and say "Have a seat here, please" while to the one who is poor you say "Stand there" or "Sit at my feet," have you not made distinctions among yourselves? (Jm 2:2-4) On the contrary, where the rich willingly forgo some of their riches in order to raise the condition of the poor, there is equal joy for both; and so James could say, "Let the believer who is lowly boast in being raised up, and the rich in being brought low" (Jm 1:9-10). Jubilee Praxis as the Third Millennium Starts With such precedents, are we going to achieve community of equals? Yes, if we enter upon unambiguous, if taxing, praxis. The first practice would seem to be self-awareness of our "chronic" failure in shaping human communities. If even now we let the societal laws considered above provoke not offense (pace Paul, Rm 3:20) but repentance, convicting us of our share of humanity's sin in this matter, we would be on the right track. Review for Religious Part of this initial practice is to realize how we, like the rest of humanity, have cultivated the pleasing or even cozy practice of good intention rather than a.ction, of fine words rather than deeds. James had reason to ask bluntly: If a brother or sister is naked and lacks daily food and one of you says to them "Go in peace, keep warm and eat your fill," and yet you do not supply their bodily needs, what is the good of that? (]m 2:15-16) Is this challenge any less relevant now for the church community, and in particular the talking (even if not pontificating) theological fraternity, despite two millennia of Christianity? This is, however, no time for despair, but a time for immediate, earnest, and con-sistent praxis based on the twin nature of human beings as spiri-tual and economic. The second practice could well be conscientization for both the rich and the poor. The former may not even realize what being poor actually means. I, for one, was surprised to hear a city dweller say not very long ago that he missed Sunday Mass because he had no clean clothes to wear. Situations like this must be brought to the notice 6f the well-dressed community at Sunday Mass, among whom might be found some, like a Chicago priest I heard about, for whom a shirt worn once is too soiled to be worn again on the same day. In a school run by a group of sisters, a poor child went to class in slippers instead of shoes; for punishment her teacher, a former nun, made her wear them round her neck with her belt. Such unbe-lievable things occur and need to be made known, through chan-nels such as pastoral councils, to the rest of the community. For their part, the poor must be transformed by becoming conscious of what they deserve but are denied by society, includ-ing the church. St. Vincent de Paul Societies may serve this crit-ical cause, first learning themselves and then teaching poor people their rights enshrined in Canon Law. What a revelation to hear: There are canons that can be said to promote the ~velfare of the poor and speak fibout the defense of their rights. There are canons that promote the participation of the poor in church life, facilitate their access to the sacraments, uphold the right to receive help from the temporal goods of the church, require norms on legal aid for the poor, and so forth?~ If such conscientization is to become reality, much depends on a third practice, ecclesial leadership, which at least in India rests Dominic ¯ Beyond Jubilee and Jublilees largely with the bishops and then the clergy. Who is to tell them what their praxis should or could be? That, though, is what the Servant Leadership school in Washington, D.C., has dared, train-ing leaders in community living that is intimately associated with the life of the poor.13 It is heartening to hear of a bold Indian bishop who would not oblige his priests' clamor for his support of projects for the poor unless they committed themselves to conscientiously spend-ing for the target group all the money received. Not many, how-ever, are like him, intent on being levelers, mindful of benefiting the poor wholly and so bringing all people to a level of equality. So we hear stories of bishop~ who are not loath to receive a purse on the occasion of their jubilees celebrations, in clear violation of the spirit of the biblical jubilee. Vv'hat are we to think when a bishop, to please his family, tries to dissuade a young man from becoming a brother to serve the poor and even offers to make him a priest in his diocese? Does he have a ghost of an idea, let alone a chance, to build a true community where the poor will find their due, equal place of honor and feel blessed? Would that the unworthy bishops acted on the proposal, made by themselves or their confreres at the Synod of Bishops on Justice, to "under-take an examination of the modes of acting and of the posses-sions and lifestyle found within the church itself'U4--even though they seem not to take seriously the anticlerical strictures of Christ himself. Whatever the praxis of the leadership may be, the rest of the community may aid it indirectly by their own related praxis. And this may express itself in at least three ways. The first one is com-ing to know the likes of the locally famous Indian Jesuit Bishop Saupin (who, reportedly, would, in the style of the populace, travel in a rickshaw, clad in kurta and pajamas and smoking his beedi) or the globally famous Archbishop Romero. The second is pray-ing conscientiously and hopefully, while mentioning the ordinary's name at Mass, for the metanoia and metamorphosis of bishops so that they may know the importance of serving their community ¯ (which itself exists for serving one another in charity) by witness-ing to the incompatibility of chronic poverty with the visible king-dom of God. And the third (which is difficult but must be done) is humbly calling ecclesiastical high-ups to account, even against their resistance, in forums such as the parish and diocesan coun-cils enjoined by Vatican Council II. Review for Religious The fourth practice concerns the religious who have their own sphere of leadership for good and bad. While those in the limelight engage righdy or wrongly in discussion on the religious life of the future, there are a small number, like the Little Sisters and Brothers of Jesus, whose life itself is mostly.their practice of naturally and not optionally'5 accompanying the poor by their.presence among them in their living place, by their solidarity with them in the workplace, by their adoption of the lifestyle of their poor peers, and by their hospitality to the poor and rich which makes both groups feel equal and at ease. In the economy of communion practiced b~" Focolare members, they economize for the purpose of sharing and, of course, socializing with those expe-riencing poverty, misery, and humiliation. Their way has attracted the attention even of gov-ernments. A year ago, for example, a Brazilian parlia-mentary commission made an official visit to their cen-ter in order to learn prac-tices that could help solve poverty problems in their country. Hearing the expe-riences of the Focolare entrepreneurs, they marveled at the con-crete achievements of the economy of communion, achievements that seemed impossible in the current economic context. One of them said: "The economy of communion is an already proven and revolu-tionary alternative. It is a new concept of economy, a new con-cept of wealth."16 The two groups mentioned above do not have any "apostolate" whatever as other congrggations understand the term. While other groups may benefit from the innovative experience of the these two groups, still, to develop their own praxis of involving them-selves in the lives of the poor, there would be no better way than going back to their original sources.~7 For, as a~le, religious con-gregation have always been founded with real bonds with the poor. Another thing that may help various religious congregations is the zealous search for ways to adapt present missions "for the ben- In the economy of communion practiced by Focolare members, they economize for the purpose of sha~ing and, of course, socializing with those experiencing poverty,, misery, and humiliation. January-February 2001 Dominic * " Beyond J'ubilee and Jublilees efit of the poor and for a more just and fraternal world."~s A sure test of this will be making sure that, whatever work they begin, it benefits the poor most, as was surprisingly advocated by Gandhi to the members of his congress party striving for India's freedom. Another thing that may promote right praxis among them is to go back, in the spirit of what Paul and James advocate (1 Co 2:26 and Jm 2:5), to their own personal origins and find how poor indeed they were. For one may wager that most of us hail from families that are middle class, but commonly are lower than mid-dle class or indeed poor, even very poor, not unlike the apostles. There is no better way of concluding all this than what Jesus said to his disciples so poignandy at the Last Supper: "If you know these things, you are blessed if you do them!" (Jn 13:17). Notes t See Rui de Menezes, "The Biblical Jubilee Year," Vidyajyoti Journal 61 (1997): 653. [See also Robert G. North, Biblical Jubilee, after Fifty Years (Rome: Editrice Pontificio Biblico, 2000), a revised edition of his Sociology of the Biblical Jubilee, 1954.--ED.] 2 See The New Jerusalem Bible (NyB) (New York: Doubleday, 1985), note Lv 25a, p. 167. 3 See The New Jerome Biblical Commentary (N'JBC), ed. R.E. Brown et al. (Bangalore: Theological Publications in India, 1991), n. 4:53, p. 78. 4 See Rui de Menezes, "Biblical Jubilee," p. 667, for the reference in Interpreter's Dictionary of the Bible. s See T. Malipurathu, "Contrast Community: Its Meaning and Relevance for our Times," Vidyajyoti Journal 62 (1.998): 606-623, esp. 610-613. 6 It is striking that Ezk 46:7 uses the expression the Year of Liberty to refer to the Year of Jubilee. 7 See the relevant notes on Lk 3:3-14 in Christian Community Bible (Quezon City: Claretian Publications, 1990), p. 123. s See the note Mt 16g in NJB, p.1637, and the note on Ac 2:46 in NyBC, n. 44:28, pp. 734-735. 9 NyBC, n. 44:28, p. 734. ,0 See note Ac 2ffin NyB, p. 1803. n For the translation in the style of the Decalogue, see Rui de Menezes, "Biblical Jubilee," p. 654. 12 Jeyaseelan, "The Poor and the Priest in the Code of Canon Law, I," Vidyajyoti Journal 63 (1999): 924. ~3 See Henri J.M. Nouwen, In the Name of Jesus (London: Darton, Longman, and Todd, 1989), p. xii. Review for Religious 14 AS in Jeyaseelan, "The Poor and the Priest," p. 930. t5 Fausto Gomez suggests that the preferential option for the poor is not simply optional but obligatory. See Jeyaseelan, "The Poor and the Priest," p. 927. 16 Mariapolis (Focolare newsletter), December 1999, p. 14. ~7 See, for example, Decrees of the Thirty-Fourth General Congregation of the Society of Jesus (Anand: Gujarat Sahitya Prakash, 1995, and St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1995), §288. ,s Decrees, §289. The Sun The sun rose At 7:02 a.m.', standard time, the paper told me. The changing silhouettes of peaked boxes transformed into houses sided in pale pink and grays and browns proved it. But no explosion of color ¯ announced the moment, no silent fireworks to wake the sky. Only the quiet finger of God'~ tracing day-gold across the horizon. Suzanne Mayer IHM January-Februaly 2001 JAMES H. KROEGER A Continuing Pentecost: Appreciating "Ecclesia in Asia" "T he church in Asia sings the praises of the 'God of salvation' (Ps 68:20).-" These opening words set the tone of Ecclesia in Asia (hereafter EA), the postsynodal apostolic exhortation promulgated in November 1999: Clearly, themes of gratitude, celebration, and optimism characterize this document. The church sings God's praises for "choosing to initiate his saving plan on Asian soil," for sending "his only-begotten Son, Jesus Christ the Savior, who took flesh as an Asian!" The church sees the "marvel of God's plan in Asia" and exults "in the goodness of the continent's peoples, cultures, and religious vitality" (§1). Pope John Paul II signed the document during his Asian pastoral visit to India (5-8.November 1999). The issuance of EA was the concluding moment of the special assembly for Asia of the Synod of Bishops, popularly known as the Asian Synod. This four-year project of church reflection and renewal began with the publicafon of the Lineamenta (1996), continued with discussion on the Instrumentum Laboris (1998), reached its apex with the month-long synod sessions in Rome (19 April-14 May 1998), and culminated with the proclamation of the postsynodal Ecclesia in Asia James H. Kroeger MM, a Maryknoll Missioner who has served in Asia since 1970 (Philippines and Bangladesh), is currently professor of systematic theology, missiology, and Islamics at Loyola School of Theology in Manila. His article was first published in Landas 13, no. 3 (journal of Loyola School of Theology). His address is Marvknoll; P.O. Box 285, Greenhills Post Office; Metro Manila, Philippine~ 1502. Review for Religqous (6 November 1999). Yes, "Asia-Church" rejoices and unceasingly proclaims God's enduring love! The Asian Synod was a multifaceted event on many levels. As EA notes, "it was indeed a moment of special grace" (§3). It was also "a celebratory remembering of the Asian roots of Christianity" (§4). The synod event became "an ardent affirmation of faith in Jesus Christ the Savior" (§4), and, as the local churches of Asia gathered in Rome, "the synod fathers sought to discern the principal areas of mission for the church in Asia as she crosses the threshold of the new millennium" (§ 18). The synod's theme was much debated and carefully chosen: "Jesus Christ the Savior and his mission of love and service in A~ia: 'That they may have Life and have it abundantly' On 10:10)." AS the pope writes, this particular formulation of the theme was to "illustrate and explain more fully that Christ is the one mediator between God and man and the sole redeemer of the world, to be clearly distinguished from the founders of other great religions" (§2). The theme manifests the chu[ch's faith in Jesus and his mission; he is Savior who serves and bestows abundant life; he is to be.joyfi4.11y proclaimed in Asia. Ecclesia in Asia, a rich, lengthy document, now becomes an important signpost of evangelization for the local churches in Asia in the new millennium. An analysis of EA reveals three major sections or underlying thematics: (I) Asian realities relevant to the church and her mission of evangelization (§§5-9); (2) theological-doctrinal aspects of Jesus Christ and the Holy Spirit (§§10-23); (3) The church's mission of love and service in Asia (§§24-49). The main body of EA is framed by an introduction which captures the highlights of the synod process (§§1-4) and a conclusion that expyesse~, the pope's gratitude and encouragement along with a final prayer to Mary, "Mother of Asia" (§§50-51).The entire document is focused on "seeking to discern the Spirit's word to the churches in Asia" (§51). Asian Context Ecclesia in Asia devotes its chapter 1 to the concrete situation of .contemporary ~sia--her r.eligious, cultural, economic, social, political, and historical realities (§§5-9). This inductive approach, characteristic ~)f current Asian theological reflection, mirrors the method and experience of the Federation of Asian Bishops' January-February 2001 Kroeger . A Continuing Pentecost Conferences (FABC). The Asian church accepts that "a critical awareness of the diverse and complex realities of Asia is essential if the people of God on the continent are to respond to God's will for them in the new evangelization" (§5). As EA notes, "Asia is the earth's largest continent and is home to nearly two-thirds of the world's population"; its various peoples are "heirs to ancient cultures, religions, and traditions." One is amazed "at the sheer size of Asia's population and at the intricate mosaic of its many cultures, languages, beliefs, and traditions." Asia is "the cradle of the world's major religions" and "the birthplace of many other spiritual traditions" (§6). Economically, socially, and politically, "situations on the Asian continent are very diverse, defying any simple classification" (§7). EA highlights various concrete pastoral concerns: rapid change, migration, nuclear power, tourism, population growth, poverty, women, and a host of additional challenges. In this complex situation the church's one ambition is to continue Christ's mission of service and love (see §50). Her approach is that of mutual exchange and enrichment; thus, EA confirms "the importance of dialogue as a characteristic mode of the church's life in Asia" (§3). Mother Teresa of Calcutta is proposed as "an icon of the service to life which the church is offering in Asia" because of "her loving and selfless care of the poorest of the poor" (§7). This "chosen" continent of Asia, with all its immensity, diversity, and complexity, holds special meaning for the church. God's only-begotten Son "took flesh as an Asian" (§I); "Behold, the Savior of the world is born to us, born in Asia" (§2). Yes, Asia is unique as "the birthplace of Jesus and of the church" (§5). This church thanks God "for choosing Asia as the earthly dwelling place of his incarnate Son" (§50; see §§2, 9, 20). This unique gift implies a task; the church commits her energies to making Jesus, his gospel of life, and his community the church truly "at home" (inculturated) in Asia and her peoples (§§9, 20). Theological Foundations Three chapters of.EA, focusing on Jesus and the Spirit, describe a type of doctrinal orientation to the church's Asian mission. Yet the manner of presentation is decidedly pastoral; it blends theologies "from below" and "from above." It reads easily, the flow is smooth, and inclusive language is partially employed. Some insights even Review for Religious " enjoy poetic expression: "Contemplating Jesus in his human nature, the peoples of Asia find their deepest questions answered, their hopes fulfilled, their dignity uplifted, and their despair conquered" (§14). The thematic of girl is frequently found in these "theological" chapters. Jesus the Savior is a gift to Asia; this faith-gift is to be both appropriated and proclaimed. "The church's faith in Jesus is a gift received and a gift to be shared; it is the greatest gift which the church can offer to Asia" (§10). "Only if the people of God recognize the gift that is theirs ~n Christ will they be able to communicate that gift to others through proclamation and dialogue" (§31; see §20). The church in Asia must ask itself a probing question: How do we "share with our Asian brothers and sisters what we treasure as the gift containing all gifts, namely, the Good News of Jesus Christ" (§19)? Proclaiming the Christian faith-gift meets unique challenges, particularly in the "multiethnic, multireligious and multicultural situation of Asia" (§21). Asia has its indigenous religions, soteriologies, and savior figures (see §§14, 19, 20). This reality demands a humble, dialogical stance on the part of the church; "proclamation is prompted not by sectarian impulse nor the spirit of proselytism nor any sense of superiority" (§20; see §§4, 31, 46). And yet this genuine respect and reverence for the church's dialogue partners "does not eliminate the need for the explicit proclamation of the gospel in its fullness" (§20; see §31). By her very identity the church is "a community aflame with missionary zeal to make Jesus known, loved, and followed" (§ 19). Affirming the relevance of Jesus for Asia (§§1, 9, 10, 18, 50) demands a particular approach to proclamation. The church "needs to follow a pedagogy which will introduce people step by step to the full appreciation of the mystery." She should employ "narrative methods akin to Asian cultural forms" and follow "an evocative pedagogy, using stories, parables, and symbols so characteristic of Asian methodology in teaching." In a word, the church must "evangelize in a way that appeals to the sensibilities of Asian peoples" (§20). Engaging Asian peoples, their cultures, and their religions (FABC's triple dialogue) demands genuine commitment to inculturation (§§20-23) and interreligious dialogue (§§29-31). Asia is unique as "the birthplace of Jesus and of the church." January-February 2001 Kroeger * ,4 Continuing Pentecost EA asserts that Christology is necessarily integrated with pneumatology as well as Trinitarian faith. It is the "uniqueness of Christ which gives him an absolute and universal significance" (§14); one cannot "separate the activity of the Holy Spirit from that of Jesus the Savior" (§.16). The Holy Spirit, "the prime agent of evangelization" (§17), is "an absolutely vital part of the mystery of Jesus and the salvation which he brings" (§15). Jesus and his Spirit are only adequately comprehended within,the "Trinity's plan of salvation" (§15); there are no two parallel economies of salvation. There are real, complex missiological questions, and the Asian Synod and Ecclesia in Asia attempted to face them. A Missionary Community The longest section of F~ (§§24-49) focuses on the church and her mission in the vast Asian continent. Four discernible themes emerge: church as communion for mission (§§24-28), dialogue (§§29-31), human promotion (§§32-41), and agents of evangelization (§§42-49). EA presents a vision as well as concrete approaches for mission; these emerge from a particular faith stance: "The question is not whether the church has something essential to say to the men and women of our time, but how she can say it clearly and convincingly" (§29). EA recognizes "the pressing need of the local churches in Asia to present the mystery of Christ to their peoples according to their cultural patterns and ways of thinking" (§20). "Communion ecclesiology" finds strong expression in EA. The church is a "privileged place of encounter" between God and people; her first purpose is "to be the sacrament of the inner union of the human person with God." She is also "the sacrament of the unity of the human race." This means that "communion and mission are inseparably connected [and] they interpenetrate and mutually imply each other." Communion is "both the source and fruit of mission." In short, "communion give~ rise to mission and mission is accomplished in communion" (§24). The church in Asia promotes internal communion and participation on many levels: with the successor of Peter, among various sister local churches, dioceses, basic ecclesial communities ("a positive feature Of the church's evangelizing.activity"), renewal movements, the Catholic Eastern churches,, and other. Christian churches (see §§25~2:7). Internal communion emanates outward Review for Religious ¯ toward other groups throughout Asia: the variety of peoples, cultures, and religions with whom the church shares life (§25), churches and peoples in mainland China, North Korea, and the ex- Soviet territories of Asia (§28). Regional and continental associations of bishops that foster communion (for example, FABC) are recognized and praised (§26), but their profound insights are never directly quoted. ¯ .An inherent demand of "communion ecclesiology" is dialogue. This "desire for dialogue . . . is not simply a strategy for peaceful coexistence among peoples; it is an essential part of the church's mission, ¯ . . a veritable vocation for the church" (§29). A particularly helpful section is devoted to interreligious dialogue (§31), seen as % part of the church's evangelizing mission, an expression of the mission adgentes." The advent of the new millennium offers the church "a great opportunity for interreligious dialogue and for meetings with the leaders of the great world religions." Following the lead of Nostra aerate, "the Magna Carta of interreligious dialogue for our times," the church in Asia is called to a double fidelity: to affirm her "belief that the fullness of salvation comes from Christ alone" and to gladly acknowledge "whatever is true and holy in the religious traditions of Buddhism, Hinduism, and Islam as a reflection of that Truth which enlightens all people." Interreligious dialogu~ seeks "mutual advancement [and] the elimination of prejudice, intolerance, and misunderstandings" (§31). Dialogue demands will only increase with passing years. Persons must be formed to have "a mature and convinced Christian faith" that qualifies them "to engage in genuine interreligious dialogue." They need to be "deeply immersed in the mystery of Christ [and] happy in their faith community." The call to dialogue requires the church in Asia "to provide suitable models of interreligious dialogue." In the dialogue endeavor it is imperative "to revitalize prayer and contemplation" and to give witness to "the great Christian traditions of asceticism and mysticism" (§31). The advent of the new millennium offers the church "a great opportunity for interreligious dialogue and for meetings with the leaders of the great world religions." January-Febr~ary 2001 Kroeger ¯ A Continuing Pentecost Chapter 6 treats human promotion and church social teaching. S~iving to build a "civilization of love," the church views all human development not only as a "technical or economic question; it is fundamentally a human and moral question" (§32). An integral, holistic approach to evangelization is employed, encompassing the areas of human dignity (§33), preferential love for the poor (§34), healthcare (§36), education (§37), peacemaking (§38), globalization (§39), foreign debt (§40), and the environment (§41). In these diverse fields the church resists "the culture of death" in accord with her vision of"the gospel of life" (§35). Agents of Evangelization Chapter 7, titled "Witnesses to the Gospel," focuses on the church's missionary identity in Asia. The church strives to be a credible witness because "people today put more trust in witnesses than in teachers, in experience than in teaching, and in life and action than in theories"; in the Asian context "people are more persuaded by holiness of life than by intellectual argument" (§42). EA asserts that it is "a genuinely religious person [who] readily wins respect and a following in Asia" (§23). Gospel witness in Asia needs holy men and women who themselves are "on fire with the love of Christ and burning with zeal to make him known more widely, loved more deeply, and followed more closely." Why? "A fire can only be lit by something that is itself on fire"; Christian witnessing demands "a true missionary spirituality of prayer and contemplation" (§23). Asian peoples, especially the youth, manifest this "deep thirst for spiritual values" (§6). In a word, living Christian mission in Asia incorporates and, in fact, demands "contemplative action and active contemplation" (§23). EA addresses a v.ariety of gospel witnesses: pastors (§43), religious and missionaries (§44), theologians (§22), laypers6ns (§45), families (§46), young people (§47), and those whose apostolate is social communications, "the areopagus of the modern age" (§48). Striking insights are often presented: "People in Asia need to see the clergy not just as charity workers and institutional administrators, but as men whose minds and hearts are set on the deep things of the Spirit" (§43). "The synod fathers were most concerned that the church should be a participatory church in which no one feels excluded, and they judged the wider Review for Religious participation of women in the life and mission of the church in Asia to be an especially pressing need" (§45). The pope encourages and thanks missionaries (§§20, 42, 44, 50), urging "the church in Asia to send forth missionaries, even though she herself needs laborers in the vineyard" (§44). Mission is to be central to each local church; local "missionary societies of apostolic life, characterized by their special commitment to the mission ad genres, ad exteros, and ad vitam" are strongly encouraged (§44). EA calls upon "the great host of Asian martyrs, old and new,. ¯. to teach the church in Asia what it means to bear witness." (§49). Additional Emphases The Asian Synod surfaced crucial questions facing local churches in Asia; EA reflects several of these pastoral and missionary concerns. The question of Jesus' Asianness surfaces in various discussions¯ "Jesus is often perceived as foreign to Asia. It is paradoxical that most Asians tend to regard Jesus--born on Asian soil--as a Western rather than an Asian figure" (§20). "It is indeed a mystery why the Savior of the world, born in Asia, has until now remained largely unknown to the people of the continent" (§2). To address and overcome this reality, the church must open herself to "new and surprising ways in which the face of Jesus might be presented in Asia" (§20). How can Jesus be effectively proclaimed-- bearing an "Asian face"? The subject of religious freedom arises because in various places in Asia "Christians are not allowed to practice their faith freely" (§8); "explicit proclamation is forbidden, and religious freedom is denied or systematically restricted" (§23). Christians are forced "to live their faith in the midst of restrictions or even the total denial of freedom" (§28). Governments are enjoined to "guarantee religious freedom for all their citizens" (§28), assure "immunity from coercion" (§23) in religious matters, and recognize "the right to freedom of conscience and religion and the other basic human rights" (§34). Analysis and comparison between the content of EA and the decades of pastoral reflection by Asian bishops (FABC) reveals many similarities. 'Since 1974, in its document "Evangelization in Modern-Day Asia," the FABC has promoted the local church's triple dialogue with Asia's peoples, cultures, and religions; this vision is January-Februat.~ 2001 Kroeger * A Continuing Pentecost Inculturation received much attention during the synod. repeatedly found in F~ (see §§1, 15, 18,.20, 21, 24). Again, the FABC pastoral priorities enunciated over the years, particularly the focus on the family, women and the girl-child, youth, ecology, and the displaced (see FABC VI:lS) are also highlighted by ~ (§~34, 37, 41, 46, 47). FABC itself is mentioned (§§2, 3, 26, 31), though none of its fine work is directly quoted or even noted in the copious endnotes. The theme of inculturation received much attention during the synod, and certain particular areas were identified as requiring concentrated focus: "theological reflection, liturgy, the formation of priests and religious, eatechesis, and spirituality" (§21). Central to inculturating the faith is the biblical word, the message of salvation, the sacred text; Sacred Scripture is proposed as ."the basis for all missionary proclamation, catechesis, preaching, and styles of spirituality" (§22). One may inquire about criteria for authentic inculturation; ,EA notes: "The test of true inculturation is whether people become more committed to their Christian faith because they perceive it more clearly with the eyes of their own culture" (§22). The Christian virtue of compassion repeatedly surfaces in Ed (for example, §§11, 12, 14, 20, 45, 51). The apostolic exhortation is correct in expressing the church's mission.in terms of this appealing focus. Presenting Jesus as "the compassionate friend of the poor" (§20) will find a resonance and reception among Asians. In the ' church's mission of love and service, women evangelizers contribute greatly "to bringing the compassionate Jesus, the healer and reconciler, to Asian people, especially the poor and marginalized" (§45). Jesus, the God-man, was "close to the poor, the forgotten, and the lowly"; "he wept for a dead friend [and] welcomed children"; "divine compassion had never been so immediately accessible" (§11). As the church in Asia enters the new millennium, she faces some demanding challenges. EA highlights some importfint apostolates: women (§§7, 34, 45), you.th (§§6, 47.), nuclear power (§§7, 38), peace~naking and reconciliation (§38), globalization (§39), foreign debt (§40), and the environment (§41). The authenticity of the church's "mission of service and love" (§50) will indeed be Review for Religious tested; will it produce "a great harvest of faith . in this vast and vital continent" (§1) of Asia? Gratitude and Optimism Ecclesia in Asia concludes as it began on a clear note of optimism and gratitude. "Blessed be God for the peoples of Asia, so rich in their diversity yet one in their yearning for peace and fullness of life" (§50). With committed faith, "the church in Asia joyfully makes her pilgrim way into the third millennium" (§50). "Mary, model of all disciples and I~right star of evangelization, . . . look tenderly upon the church of your Son planted on Asian soil. ¯ O Mary, mother of the New Creation and mother of Asia, pray for us, your children, now and always!" (§51). In this m6od of gratitude and optimism, the local churches of Asia accept the Holy Father's gift: Ecclesia in ~sia. Its contents are a mixture of the old and the new (see Mt 13:52), a summation of Asian.reflection and insights in the Vatican II era, a presentation of the missionoagenda for Asia's faith communities, a program for evangelization iri the new millennium. All in all, EA is a much-appreciated gift. Its treasures need opening in the coming years and decades; its dream for the church--God's holy people--beckons implementation; its theme--abundant life in Jesus the Savior-- requires contemplative action. Yes, Jesus' Asian disciples affirm that the Holy 'Spirit, who moved upon Asia in times past, "moves now among Asian Christians, strengthening the witness of their faith among the peoples, cultures, and religions of the continent" (§ 18). Contemplating God's salvific deeds and wonders during the Easter Vigil liturgy, the universal chh~ch proclaims in the Exsultet: "Rejoice, O Mother Church!" In similar fashion, th~ local churches in Asia' acclaim 'God's marvels in theirmidst; they joyfully affirm the Asian Synod event as a "celebratory remembering of the Asian roots of Christianity" (§4). They pray that the proclarriation and subsequent internalization of Ecclesia in Asia will confirm the church in her servant mission to bring Christ's love and abundant life On 10:10) to Asia and her peoples. Rejoice, O Asia-Church! .~anua~y-February 2001 vocation PHILIP ARMSTRONG Who Is a Brother? I am not sure the title should ask who. Maybe it should ask: What is a brother? People have been trying to frame an unambiguous answer for ages, and in the meantime new applications of the word brother have compounded the issue. My interest is to define, as best I can, that rare creature in the Roman Catholic Church known as a religious brother. What does the ordinary word brother usually mean today? Looking at that may help us comprehend ,similarities and differences of the term as applied to men who, by the vows of poverty, celibacy, and obedience, commit themselves to what is commonly called religious life. What Is a Brother? Male siblings of the same parents are called brothers. People's close friends who are male are' sometimes compared to a brother: "He's like a brother to me." Sometimes males call one another brother when they do not know the other's name but feel some affinity toward him. The Great Depression is characterized by one of its slogans, "Brother, can you spare a dime?" In some seminary programs a man is addressed as Philip Armstrong CSC, of the Brothers of Holy Cross, wrote on mission and the vows for our September 2000 issue. His address remains P.O. Box 460; Notre Dame, Indiana 46556. Review for Religious Brother, or its Latin form Frater, when he has achieved a certain level of preparation for the ordained priesthood. This use of the term creates confusion over lay/clerical identity. Volunteer organizations may use the term brother in identifying a mentoring relationship between a man and a boy, as in "Big Brothers." African Americans use the term brother to identify males of their race, using the word to indicate the relationship existing by reason of their common African origin and the consequent bonds that solidify them in matters of importance: "One of the brothers sold his house and moved." Some small religious denominations, particularly the more evangelical or those built on sociocultural ties, refer to any male fellow believer as Brother. "Next Sunday Brother Anderson will pass the plate at our service." In the Bible, Jesus uses brother to signify equality among people: "If you are bringing a gift to the altar and remember that your brother has anything against you . " Peter asks, "How often must I forgive my brother?" The terms brother and sister are used generically by church-related personnel in addressing members of the congregation: "My brothers and sisters in Christ." The common thread through all these uses may help us understand, too, why some dedicated men within the Catholic Church are called brothers. There is interpersonal relationship and open trust not based on kinship. The others have the same values, have similar goals, and use the same general methods to achieve their goals. This intangible affinity among brothers (or sisters) does not rely on blood ties yet depends on that relationship to provide a name for this closeness. The substance of such a relationship is: "That man accepts me, confronts me, counsels me, helps me as if I were his own brother." The image of the Good Samaritan comes to mind. Jesus' way of relating with men and women, whether they were righteous or sinful, offers many examples of what it means to be a brother to someone. Simply put, a brother is a man who at all times acts ds a blood brother would act. The Brother in the Church How did the term brother for a vowed religious in the Roman Catholic Church originally surface? Quite likely it arose from relationships in blood families: father, mother, brother, sister. The picture.would include the fact that few were educated as we define education, with those who possessed some "book knowledge" being Janltary-Februaly 2001 Armstron~ ¯ Who Is a Brother? considered natural counselors and mediators. Those representing the people before God and using their knowledge to help them understand and practice their faith could reasonably be called Father, because providing for his family and counseling them are importan~ tasks of the father of a family. Those exercising positions of leadership in communities of vowed women could be called Mother. Those who followed the lead of these fathers or mothers, who assisted; who undertook to fulfill the tasks related to the group's ministries, were called sisters or brothers. Over the years men religious who did not feel called to priesthood, but who assisted clerics in their ministry of preaching, teaching, or sacramental service, were called brothers--like male siblings helping their father do the work of a family farm or business. Help.ers somewhat behind the scenes, they were generally less-educated men doing the more hidden or more mundane and practical tasks connected with the priests' mission of sacred mediation and of education. In time brothers became in people's minds the "hewers of wood and the drawers of water" whose silent and nearly invisible presence was invaluable, essential, though largely taken for granted by the clergy and laity alike. By rule these men remained politically sequestered within their congregations, ha~ing no voice in choosing their leaders and not eligible to become leaders themselves. They prayed much, often apart from their clerical confreres, who in cloister or corridor would pass them by like supportive, exemplary specters. After the social and cultural disruption of the French Revolution, many groups of nonordained but vowed men religious sprang up through the initiative of bishops and parish priests who were in a position to support the development: These apostolic religious were to educate the untutored youth being lost to the church. In contrast to earlier brothers, these men were at least minimally educated and were dedicated to a professional life similar to that of the ordained. For more than a century such groups were formed, and their members went wherever there was a cry for Catholic education, even beyond the borders of their native lands. These became more known to stciety" at large, if not muct~ more visible, by their focus on schools . A concurrent reality that did no favors to many groups of brothers was their unwitting and unplanned gravitation toward ~an identity more clerical than lay. Many brothers, whether as members of laycongregations or as an arm of a clerical community, dressed Review for Religious like clerics and carried out ministries supportive of clerical min-istries. These brothers, nearly indistinguishable from priests, were extended the rights and privileges that a Christian society accorded the priesthood. As a result, a mindset developed among the brothers out of which they identified themselves more with their clerical associate~ than with the laity. It was the laity, though, from a strictly ecclesial perspective, (o whom brothers in fact related more closely. True, they were indeed set apart from the laity by their vowed commitment within a particular congregation approved by Rome. But their external, visible ministries did nothing to project a specific image of brother as distinct from the clerical, patriarchal image they had lived With for so long. "The Terrible Twos" of a Century After World War II and Vatican Council II, both productive of cultural and social upheaval (in a way, the century's "terrible twos"), all vowed religious were challenged to reassess how faithfully their founding purpose and their ministries responded to the newly emerging needs of both church and society and to renew and adapt accordingly. As communities they were to open themselves to the "signs of the times" that hinted at potentially diverging directions in life and mission for vowed religious. Congregations of brothers and mixed congregations (clerics and significant numbers of brothers) found themselves affected by the momentous challenges put before them by the church. Many members departed, fewer young men joined the community, and those who remained grew older, began retiring, and soon were dying unreplaced. These realities were running parallel to the clear and urgent call issued by the Vatican Council to the laity to exert by right a more prominent and active role in the church. Education was one of the first areas affected. As the numbers of brothers declined at a pace impossible to retard, lay people began to fill their places in schools. Along with their declining numbers and increasing age, brothers were suddenly challenged on the level of their profession as teachers and administrators even while they and others were waking to the fact they are not clerics. For brothers the question of the day became: Well, then, who are we, and what is our proper role now in the church and the world? Answers have not come quickly or easily, and some would argue they have not yet come at all. [---3~3-~- January-Februa~. 2001 Armstrong * WlTo Is a Brother? Immense energy has been expended reflecting on, discussing, and determining the identity of the brother for the church today. Some of that energy may have seeped over into trying to determine the brother's role in church and society. In neither case, however, does there appear to be widespread satisfaction with the results, and many retain a confused and hazy notion of the brotherhood as a way of life in the church. It does not help that some of the least informed and articulate on the matter are found among bishops and priests. Worse yet, many brothers cannot adequately define their own identity. The foundations have crumbled on which some based their sense of self-definition. What will it take to pour new and indestructible footings? A Beginning Perhaps a judicious mix of the old and the new is the best place to begin forming a relevant and appropriate definition of a brother in today's church and world. Retaining acknowledged and presumably nonnegotiable hallmarks of the brother's state of life, but blending and refining them in the crucible of postmodern experience, intuition, and prayerful discernment, one might descriptively define a brother somethii~g like this: A brother is a lay religious ¯ committed to living a common life ¯ and consecrated, by public profession of the vows of religion, ¯ to witnessing to the presence of God in his life and in the world. ¯ He reveals his identity more by example than explanation, ¯ more by doing than defining. ¯ In short, he relates and acts like a brother, ¯ to the exclusion of no one.¯ As an equal, ¯ and as supported by like-minded associates in community, ¯ he is free to respond in a variety of practical ways, ¯ living and working fraternally with others ¯ in promoting and preserving human dignity and justice ¯ through his prophetic stance ¯ and professional expertise. The nonnegotiables of this definition consist in identification more with the laity than w~th the clergy;living in community; publicly professing the vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience; standing as prophetic witnesses to gospel vaiues; and reaching out in service to others. The postmodern experiential components are: more emphasis on a bold and perceptible expression of what being a brother means from the inside; a clear sense of reaching out to others in need as "brothering" them as a blood brother would; serving others out of a conviction of universal human equality under God; openness to the Review for Religious many forms of ministry to which brothers are free to respond by reason of being unrestrained by the ecclesiastical and cultural expectations imposed on ordained ministers; and, within community parameters, rightly seeking and achieving professional expertise in fields of interest and competence. Postmodern? Experiential? Is this more verbal gimmickry, or do these concepts add something substantial to the recipe for today's brother in the church and the world? I believe that both terms are appropriate and relevant. Postmodern is a term used by historians, sociologists, and anthropologists to refer generally to the period following the lengthy modern era that began in the 1500s and ended in the 1960s with the cultural revolution we in the United States tend to associate with events such as the Vietnam war and anti-establishment protests and also with Vatican II and its aftermath. There is no question that the events and the changed moods and understandings of the final four decades of the 20th century have had an immense impact on religious life, some of it distressingly disruptive, some creatively challenging. Experiential surely applies by reason of the mandate of Vatican II's document Perfectae caritatis and the Norms addressed to religious communities asking them to adapt and update their constitutions and rules as necessary, almost literally "refounding" their congregations. Experimentation through changing or discarding certain anomalous or anachronistic disciplinary elements in religious life was to be permitted for a reasonable time, normally eight to twelve years. The religious garb fell under this category, as did the daily schedule, areas and modes of accountability, the exercise of authority, forms and styles of prayer, and so forth. This experimentation was meant to contribute to a newly framed definition of each congregation's giftedness for today's church. Brothers who persevered in the religious life during these years had to respond creatively to the challenges of the day just to remain faithful to themselves as persons, let alone as religious in community. They were challenged to become more observant of evolving needs in the church and society and to search for w. ays to place their congregation's talents and resoui'ces at the disposal of Many brothers cannot adequately define their own identity. January-February 2001 Armstrong * Who Is a Brother? the church. And they, some for the first time, had to go about this discernment out of a conscious acknowledgment that they were definitely not clerics. Still, if the brothers were not clerics, then who were they? Somewhat as the Christian adolescent needs at some point to confront the faith infused through infant baptism, the postmodern religious brother has had to deal with whatever motivated his entering religious life years ago. It has been a true moment of conversion for him, a fresh confirmation of the validity of his choice of a way of life. Without this process a new sense of identity leading to broader availability would have been impossible for him. Most religious have found this exercise challenging and regenerating, reminding them that they had in fact committed themselves first and foremost not to a structure, not to a profession, not to any particular members within the organization, but to God. Whatever permutations were introduced into the externals over the years, the substantial reality has remained immutably in place, and that is enough. But simply defining one's identity is not enough. Unless conviction and a comfortable acceptance of what it means to be a brother are internalized, there is little hope of either acquiring or cultivating the openness necessary for finding new and challenging directions in mission and ministry, for living community, or for attracting others to embrace the same way of life. What Will It Take? Let me personalize this conversion experience even further, because for each individual brother identity is a matter of deep concern. Unless I can perceive myself as a valid, needed, and effective player of a unique role among many roles in the church, I cannot muster and sustain the conviction that will provide the energy I require both to pursue my way of life and to face the exigencies it inevitably entails. As essential as this perception is, it alone cannot support my efforts. Unless the church, both in its hierarchy and in its wider membership, can be convinced that the brothers' way of life is important for the church and the world, I by myself will be able to do little except go about my daily ministry and life in community in the vague hope that the witness I give to the world is somehow being diffused like a healthy mist settling on persons, places, and Review for Religious events near or far. I could not do this alone. I need help from within the church. Yet, if appropriate authority at even the highest levels is struggling to understand the identity and role of the brother in the church today, from what source will the definition come? Who is the "credible authority" that will provide it? The answer is simple: the brother himself. Why not? We brothers may for the most part not be trained theologians or men steeped in the history and development of the church, the sacraments, and ecclesiastical discipline, but we have a lifetime of experience being brothers that should count for something. We have evolved together with our vocational call, responding to challenges along the way that have forced us to question our identity, or purpose, and our reason for remaining brothers. Our prayer life, presumably "alive and active over the years, has kept us in touch with the One to whose call we have responded daily, and the resulting relationship has, we would hope, matured to the point where we can be at ease with our interpretation not only of who we are as brothers, but of how each of us is personally a witness to the reign of God. why should we not define our own identity and offer it to the institutional church as a valid and authentic interpretation, indeed as a gift? We should--and until we do we will continue to mill about, lost, confused, an.d impotent, within vague definitions of prophetic witness and ministerial service in the church. Until we are perceived by others as relevant and competent and are accepted as equal players on the field of evangelization, we will constitute a "loose cannon" threat to the ecclesiastical bureaucracy and receive little support or affirmation, nor will young men be encouraged who may be considering the lay religious life as a desirable option for their own futures. Why should we not define our own identity and offer it to the institutional church as a valid and authentic interpretation, indeed as a gift ? A Corporate Effort Beyond the effort each brother must exert to clari~ for himself what it means today to be a brother and to fashion a revived sense of January-February 2001 Armstrong * Who Is a Brother? mission based on renewed identity, there remains, I suggest, a need for a corporate endeavor among all brothers to invite, support, and help implement a new era, a "second coming," for men in the lay religious life. Even then it is not brothers alone who must feel responsible for resurrecting both awareness of and interest in the brotherhood. In the Vatican, in the hierarchy of bishops, priests, and deacons, and in the lay membership of the church, a fresh attempt must be made to bring about a renewed understanding of the vital role brothers play in the church as an institution and as the community known as the people of God. Because the truly authentic essence of brotherhood in religious life has to be articulated by brothers, it is they who must be the primary educators, as historically they have been in their numbers since the foundation of their congregations. Ready teachers, of course, must encounter willing students or the lesson will go unlearned and unappreciated, leaving the church and the world the poorer for it. And so brothers must seek and gain the confidence of church authority through their expertise in theologizing about and articulating the experiential essence of the lay religious life. This aim can be achieved through two practical steps. First, the theological reflection, even if informally undertaken, must unfold in a deliberate and orderly manner. Second, a path must be opened, a clear and smooth thoroughfare of effective communication between brothers and the rest of the church. To accomplish .this, good public relations will be required, for brothers have such a history of invisibility and silence that any change, if it attracts attention at all, will tend to create or exacerbate confusion in people, if not suspicion. Brothers must learn how to harness modern communication technologies and get assistance from the media, because the teachers will be implementing the most important lesson plan they have ever devised. Meanwhile. Meanwhile, brothers must continue preparing for their vocational parousia through personal effort at educating themselves to the point of absolute confidence and conviction. Nothing less will succeed in reeducating the church, let alone the world, as to the gift the lay religious life for men is now and can be to the whole of humankind. Out of what definition ought brothers to operate in the Review for Religion, s meantime? I suggest, once again, that the italic passage above on page 34 constitutes a solid working definition, one that incorporates both nonnegotiable expectations of male lay religious and elements that seem essential in a postmodern world. O~r own experience as brothers has confirmed the validity of the definition. Let us at the very least seize its substance and begin the task of refining and developing it. The task is immense and will require every bit of our faith and hope--and our perseverance. Were it not for the One who is author of our faith and our hope and who inspires us to persevere, we would find ourselves in the nearly untenable position of expecting to increase understanding of and enthusiasm for a kind of religious witness and ministry that relates directly to neither the clergy nor the laity. Happily, the God who created the world itself and made life increase and multiply can create new little worlds within it that can grow in understanding and age and grace. It is that possibility in which we place our greatest hope, and it is that God to whom we look for its realization. Postseason Christmas is dismantled again, syncopated lights from shaggy tree transported to basement. It's time to mine the darkness of these shrunken days for fire-feeding coal , and to scan the night skies, each quadrant strung with twinkling lights stretching Christmas hope across the long winter coming. Patricia Schaapp ~M .~anuary-February 2001 DONALD MACDONALD Vocational Being d note about the cleaning and restoration of Sandro Botticelli's Virgin Adoring the Sleeping Christ Child gives an account of the artist, his painting, and its restoration. "[Now we can see] Botticelli's purity of form and color ideally suited to its subject. It is this perfect union of means and meaning that makes the painting so powerful."' To speak of "this perfect union of means and meaning" is superlative praise. In most human endeavor there is a gap between means and. meaning. Achievement hardly ever matches the intention. Brush strokes on canvas, notes from a cello, lines on a page, the lie of a golf ball--rarely do means and meaning synchronize to a person's satisfacfon. Environment and Faith From the perspective of art appreciation, Botticelli is said to have done justice to his subject and himself to an incomparable degree. The power of his painting confirms this, If the union of means and meaning reached such perfection from the artist's view-point, what might be said of his achievement from the perspec-tive of a viewer's faith? What if I, the viewer, adore Christ now in our Lady's company, aware that to paint Christ and the kneeling Virgin does not just capture an abstract ideal, but real people, liv-ing still, to whom I can relate? With dynamic faith I the viewer can be drawn into (not just to) the scene as an integral part of a present Donald Macdonald SMM continues writing about aspects of the reli-gious vocation. His address is Montfort House; Darnley Road; Barrhead, Glasgow; G78 1TA Scodand, U.IC Revie~ for Religious reality. By faith I am at one with the meaning in a way I could never hope to be with just the painter's means. "The purity of form and color ideally suited to its subject" invites and challenges my faith to express itself in reflective ado-ration. The painting directs me to consider what is within me from the viewpoint of faith. The gap between means and meaning is then evident, but so is the inspiration to adore from the center of my being. The beauty of the picture has aesthetic appeal and more, showing what might be if I were fully alert to the wonder of an incarnational faith. I, too, can do what Mary does now, for I am one with her in Christ through baptism. A growing symmetry between means and meaning results in an integrated life. "The beauty of wonder caught in Botticelli's Adoration of the Virgin, reflects what is really there. It may have spectacular appeal to the imagination, but it is not imaginary. Glimpsing this wonder and trying to answer its challenge may suggest consecrated reli-gious life. Do I need to give myself radically, as did Mary, before its wonder compels adoration? Before I adore I must first see and be taken out of myself. This means that I should take note of the environment and any clutter which inhibits insight. Only then can I see what means I have at hand by which I can pursue meaning expressed in adoration. It is neither negative nor defeatist to see in the environment much that is harmful to a life of disciplined faith. The concern for God and neighbor through which authentic faith finds mean-ing lags behind other priorities. Where the current media do not ridicule or dismiss faith, they may actively oppose it whenever they feel threatened by a lived and living faith. There are then no Marquis of Queensberry Rules to govern the fight, and writers, editors, and producers know it. In its many forms--radio, film, TV, internet, print--the media cross continents. Cherished, prac-tical values are often trivialized, and the absence of reticence often coarsens what should be held in great respect. Skillful contempo-rary presentations and inveterate noise may deaden an individual's capacity to respond in wonder to the worldview seen in the Gospels and in Botticelli. Many media movers and shakers "dirty the flower with muddy hands" whenever spiritual or religious values appear on their horizons. A contemporary illustration of this is in a national newspaper correspondent's account of the presentation in London of the Sony Gold Awards for radio broadcasting. "IX] won the music presen- January-February 2001 Macdonald ¯ Vocational Being tation award . By the time he had finished his acceptance speech, he had made half the Great Room of the Grosvenor House long, if not for the grave, then at least for the cool embrace of silence. It wasn't just that he swore. Many people who stepped up that night to receive their awards displayed scan( knowledge of any noun or verb longer than four letters. The effing and blinding was ferocious, the badinage it embellished was desperate . I have sel-dom sat so long and celebrated so little."2 This is not from some drinking den after hours or some adolescent playground, but from a prestigious hotel in a capital city, sponsored by an international company. These are the winners, not the losers, evidendy cocooned in their pei'sonal world, free to pursue their own agendas regard-less of others' feelings. Obviously they succeed, with prizes to prove it. Such behavior coarsens whatever it gets near. The name Jesus Christ in that company is invariably an expletive or a joke. Many feed on that diet and develop a taste for it, and so lack the nour-ishment to grow in Christ. This is a major reason for lack of reli-gious practice generally and for the small number of persons willing to commit themselves to a life of religious consecration. Also, it is something I need to consider if I am to find the means to give myself in adoration through the perspective of faith. How much of this has a claim on me? The evidence of hearing, if I am blessed with it, is that contemporary care to be "politically correct" in speech goes hand in hand with a massive rise in offensive lan-guage, not least among the educated. The coarsening of sensibil-ity by elements of the media makes it harder to find and faithfully use the means to achieve mature meaning as the gospel would have us do. Where no one seems to care, it is no surprise to find that many are careless. I am not made.of stone--how much have I succumbed to this environment? Necessary Means Living in such an environment, I need something practical that can help me maintain a Christian perspective, both encour-aging me and challenging me. IfI have that "something," I have a means for pursuing meaning, the fullness of which, for religious liv-ing, is adoration that engages my whole being. Several practical suggestions could be made, but assimilating Scripture is one that can help, both in judging society and guiding Review for Religious me through it. Scripture, after all, is the accumulated experience of people trying to relate their society to God. More particularly, it was largely the original inspiration behind monastic and reli-gious life. Monastic life began as a statement about contemporary society and the primacy of God. It has been said that God is either 6f sole concern or of no concern. After hearing Scripture speak and then seeing that many contemporary values either opposed or limited the freedom of faith, many persons became aware that they had to cut the cable between themselves and society. Writing of the origin of monastic life in the 4th century, a commentator notes that "what is utterly clear., is the pulsing life the sacred texts give to the daily existence of the early monks. ¯ They serve as a basic frame of reference . In. memorization, rumination, and medita-tion of Scripture, words penetrated the deepest recesses of the soul and created ne~v possibilities and challenges.''3 The Spirit who so energized the word that it came ablaze with meaning and inspiration for those pioneers can do as much for me now if I do some "humble loving listening to him who speaks. It is in fact by the light and with the strength of the word of God that my own vocation can be discovered and understood, loved, and followed and my own mis-sion carried out. So true is this that the person's entire existence finds its unifying and radical meaning in being the terminus of God's word.''4 This is a colossal claim for Scripture, namely, that all strands of life can be brought together, and meaning can be recognized at the depth of my being, if only I am attuned to Scripture. The claim is for ontological meaning in my being's depths. This guar-antees a fusion of means and meaning. Scripture is a superb coun-terweight to much in current society which could keep me from God. As the light of the word slowly dawns, adoration may well be my being's basic response. Perhaps never before in the history of the church has Scripture been available to so many. The means of communication undoubt-edly facilitate this, but this does not mean that, with the media present everywhere, the Christian message is too. In my wide experience of monastic and religious life, home and abroad, for thirty years, I have yet to be convinced that this is so. To what Where no one seems to care, it is no surprise to find that many are careless. .~anuary-February 2001 MacdonhM ¯ Vocational Being 442 degree can we speak of "the pulsing life of the sacred texts" influ-encing consecrated.life generally? How many understand what it is to be "a terminus of the word of God"? I have never forgotten Protestant scholar Frederick C. Grant's comment in 1966 on Dei Verbum, the Vatican Council's Constitution on Divine Revelation: "Why not tell people what joyful discoveries lie before them in the Scriptures, what feasts of learning, what inspiration and encouragement, what sound teach-ing, what help in facing the problems and frustrations of life? As the prophet shouted, 'Ho, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters; and he who has no money, come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without price'" (Is 55:1).s How many individually or collectively "shout" or reflect such enthusi-asm from personal conviction? Here is a superb means to assimi-late meaning, but how many habitually make it their own? Grant's approach may yet be rather new to us. It may take generations before Scripture is sufficiently bedded down among us to produce such results. Scholarship, excellent at the highest level, has perhaps not found a way of enlightening us. Source criticism, form criticism, redaction criticism, reader-response, structural lin-guistics, and so forth make an ever lengthening list; and so people nibble among the commentators and do not get round to assimi-lating the text. In a sad comment on his university studies, a priest spoke of "the acid rain of biblical criticism" and its effect on him vis-a-vis our Lord. If I am hooked already on Scripture and well know what Grant experienced, then current biblical commentaries and journals can help me. Regrettably, though, many of these scholarly materials seem to lack the warmth that could come from a community's fervently.shared faith; they seem not to reflect the wondrous joy that our risen Lord brought to the early church. Has any English writer, for example, during the past twenty years or so, been so fascinated withSt. Paul (man and writer) as to claim failure to do him justice if Paul does not leap from his pages and invade the reader's imagination? This is Richard Holmes's purpose in a superb biography of the poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge. He wants Coleridge's voice to be heard and to domi-nate the book. (His own edition of Coleridge's poetry functioned as ~a controlling influence on the biography.) Holmes serves the poet far better than any Christian writer has served--unless I missed it--St. Paul. In the seminary, not uncommonly, Paul is approached as an Review for Religqous intellectual problem, and the student is made to jump hurdles, to no very clear purpose. Scholars give the impression of seeing Paul as a maverick, like an unconventional student the disapproving examiner never knows how to place: "He is here to be examined, and clearly is not quite one of us!" This is a pity. (Bonhoeffer believed, incidentally, that the Sermon on the Mount could never be lived in a university context.) Paul is, of course, larger than any one pen can capture, but, rooted in Christ and in people and in his own evident humanity, his experi-ence is a genuine way of fusing both means and meaning in an authentically consecrated life. No one seeking inspiration in Scripture need read a line of St. Paul. The Law, the Prophets, and the rest of the Old Testament spread a lavish table. In the Synoptics, the sharp observation to be found in a saying of Christ or in a parable can open up much to me, as can pondering the weight of wonder of a phrase of Christ in John's Gospel. One needs only to experience them to feel their power, to bring means and meaning together. Whatever the form of prayer, wonder in the presence of Who is there is the underlying dynamic. Adoration There can be no one way or best way 'of being a religious. There are presumably as many ways to God as there are human beings called to him. But, as I have suggested, if we need to adore the gift of God in Christ from the core of our being, then we have found meaning. Taken out of myself by what I glimpse in faith, I respond in adoration as well as I can with all that is in me. Much in contemporary society obscures this glimpse, but Scripture can be a countervailing practical means to realize meaning. The church and monastic and religious life have for centuries found their deep-est reality through the Gospels. To adore, I need only to see in faith; then, following the rhythm of my breathing, I give myself to God giving himself to me. This is true, whatever the situation or however I feel. I always return to, though actually I never leave, that center. My being is engaged. The insight is increasingly more simple. Whatever the form of prayer (sacramental, liturgical, community, or individual), ~anuary-Februa~. 2001 Macdonald * Vocational Being wonder in the presence of Who is there is the underlying dynamic. Whatever is said, sung, or signed expresses this. Far from making me a maverick on the edge of a group, adoration invites me to be at one with the church in the worship of Christ. If habitual adoration underlies all I do, I can give myself faith-fully to whatever the present moment asks of me, yet not be taken over by it, since my identity does not depend on what I do or where I am. There is always, in faith, another dimension to real-ity not limited to the frame of circumstance. I function at a sim-ple level, trying t6 be at one with God's will, which, of course, is the purpose of monastic or religious life. In attempting this, I approximate the purity of line and color by which the painter real-izes his meaning. Whatever I am engaged in and whoever is with me, insofar as I adore I can recognize the gift of God and who it is speaking to me. Then, as John's Gospel promises, I can tap into a rich stream. On the other hand, pastoral plans, catechetical pro-grams, and personal apostolates are channels that may be awash by turns with limpid idealism or murky disillusion. If I invest in them, my "salvation" depends on,their success or failure; but, if I give myself to them in the light of adoration, I will receive both pru-dence and courage to persevere faithfully far from the criterion of "what's in it for me." Risen Lord I can summarize these reflections, perhaps, with a comment from M.R. Vincent's preface to his Commentary on St. Paul's Letter to the Philippians. More than one hundred years ago he indicated what might be found in a letter written from prison nineteen hun-dred years earlier. His words are relevant today: "While the char-acter of the epistle is ethical . . . it gives no countenance to resolving the gospel into a mere code of morals. The moral inspi-ration which it represents has its impelling center in a person and a life, not in a code. The personal Christ is its very heart. It exhibits Christ in Paul rather than before him. Christ is not a subject of controversy; he is not simply a pattern of conduct. He is the sum of Paul's life. Th~ view of the resurrection which this letter pre-sents is a standing rebuke to the superficial conception and loose grasp which the church too often brings to that truth. The resur-rection of the.Lord is to Paul a present informing energy and not only a recovery anda hope. He would know the power of the res- Review for Religious urrection now and here as well as hereafter. He not only lives according to Christ's life; he lives it I.n. Christ he is in the sphere of infinite possibilities.''6 Here surely is the fusion of means and meaning. As Paul keeps growing, by Christ's life, into Christ, he breaks out of prison in a letter of encouragement, alive with the light of his risen Lord. Not death itself, the ultimate in defeat and separation, can come between him and his risen Lord, who is for him "a present inform-ing energy and not only a recovery and a hope." The stance of adoration is not that of the self-made individual over against the universe, with a supporting cast of witless nobodies lost on the plains below. Life has "its impelling center in a person and a life" and therefore takes meaning from our once crucified and now risen Lord. In Christ I am lost in the wonder of it all, a new creation in view of whom I see and what I am given moment by moment from before time began. Literally, it beggars description. The silence of adoration, as it deepens, is eloquent though inadequate response. Held by the prese~nce of my risen Lord in every situation not excluding death, I too believe that in Christ I am in the sphere of infinite possibilities. He it is who gives meaning to life. Insofar as I allow him to make me his, I live to some purpose and try to express this in what I do. Assimilating Scripture is a superb means toward such maturity. Speechless adoration from the core of my being may become habitual, in view of the wondrousness of the One I am graced to see. I have not the means to ~:eplicate Botticelli's Adoring Virgin and Child on canvas, but from the per-spective of faith I am awash in that same wonder. Notes ~ National Gallery of Scotland, Edinburgh, 2000. 2 Gillian Reynolds, The Daily Telegraph, London, 9 May 2000. 3 Douglas Burton-Christie, The Word in the Desert: Scripture and the Quest for Holiness in Early Christian Monasticism (Oxford University Press, 1993), pp. 298-299. 4 John Paul II, Pastores dabo ~obis (On the Formation of Priests in the Circumstances of the Present Day), 25 March 1992, §47. s Walter M. Abbott SJ, ed., The Documents of Vatican H (Chapman, 1966), pp. 130-131. 6 M.R. Vincent, Critical and Exegetical CommentaTy on the Ep#tles to the Pbilippians and to Philemon (Edinburgh: T. and T. Clark, 1897). January-February 2001 MARY ANNE FOLEY Spirituality for Mission: Marguerite Bourgeoys and ¯the Ignatian Tradition spiritual legacy In the 16th century the Society of Jesus represented an innovation in consecrated life for men, differing in struc-ture and aim from both monastic and mendicant forms and supported by Ignatius's approach to contemplation and action. Ignatian spirituality appealed also to women seeking a life of service outside the cloister, and Jesuit influence is apparent in the formation of women's com-munities as varied as the Institute of the Blessed Virgin Mary and the Sisters of St. Joseph in the 17th century and the Religious of the Sacred Heart in the 19th. By contrast, when Marguerite Bourgeoys (1620- 1700) was founding the Congregation de Notre-Dame de Montreal in the latter part of the 17th century, her closest collaborators were not Jesuits; they were Sulpicians, other diocesan priests, and women like Madame de Miramion who were forming similar com'- munities. As a result the congregation is usually seen as a product of the so-called French school of spirituality? Mary Anne Foley CND, who discussed women's commu-nities in our July-August 2000 issue, wrote this article.for the 300th anniversary of the death of Marguerite Bourgeoys. After translation by E Richer, it first appeared as "Spiritualitfi pour la mission: Marguerite Bourgeoys et la tradition ignatienne" in Cahiers de spiritualit~ ignatienne (April-June 2000, pp. 79-91). Her address is University of Scranton; Scranton, Pennsylvania 18510. Review for Religious The congregation's spirituality, however, as seen in the writings of its foundress, reveals considerable affinity with Ignatian spiri-tuality. We shall ~xplore those parallels, but first a word about the congregation's origins is in order. From Marguerite Bourgeoys's perspective, the congregation began in her own experience of transformation at the age of twenty, occasioned by her gazing at a statue of Mary. As a result of this "conversion," as she calls it, she joined a group of laywomen asso-ciated with the cloistered Congregation de Notre-Dame in her native Troyes and chose Antoine Jendret, the local pastor, as her spiritual advisor. From Jendret she learned to see the "vie voyagkre" (missionary life) of the Blessed Virgin as a model for uncloistered religious life for women. At the same time, the congregation sis-ters trained her to teach children who could not attend their monastery school and shared with her their enthusiasm for estab-lishing a monastery in New France. Paul Chomedey de Maisonneuve, brother of the congregation's superior and governor of the new settlement ofVille-Marie (Montreal), recognized the impossibility of establishing a monastery there at that time. Instead, he requested a single lays. oman to serve as teacher, and Marguerite agreed to go in that capacity. When she arrived in 1653, Ville-Marie was a small settlement, precarious both geographically and financially. It had been estab-lished eleven years earlier by an association of pious men and women in France who hoped to incorporate French and native people into a Christian society, thus creating a spirited church in the New World. Among the associates was Jean-Jacques Olier, founder and first superior of the Sulpicians. Unable to go him-self, he sent four members of his society to Ville-Marie in 1657 to establish its first parish. As "filles de paroisse" (women of the parish) Marguerite and the women who would soon join her were thus greatly influenced by the Sulpicians of Ville-Marie. Moreover, from Paris the third superior of the Society, Louis Tronson, was actively involved in decisions concerning the congregation and proved one of their staunchest advocates) In 1659 four recruits came from France to share Marguerite's simple, mobile way of life and her educational commitment in imi-tation of Mary's vie voyag~re. Over the course of the century, more than fifty women--native, French, and native-born French--joined this new Congregation de Notre-Dame, extending its reach from Ville-Marie to Quebec and beyond. Marguerite served as supe- January-Febr~ary 2001 rior until 1693, providing spiritual as well as practical leadership. Among her relatively few extant writings are several prayers and numerous reflections on the nature of the congregation, most of which appear to be conference notes of varying lengths. Brief and fragmentary though these texts are, they provide interesting glimpses of the spirituality that informed the congregation she founded.3 Gathering Up the Drops of Christ's Blood A brief, isolated passage in Marguerite Bourgeoys's writings presents a forceful description of the source, characteristics, and aim of the sisters' missionary activity: Consider, dear, that when you go on mission you go to gather up the drops of the blood of Jesus Christ that are being lost. How happy a sister who is sent on mission will be if she considers that she goes there at God's command and in his company, if she considers that in this work she can and ought to show her gratitude to him from whom she has received all things. Oh, she will find nothing difficult or burdensome at all! She will, on the contrary, wish to be in want of every-thing, to be despised by everyone, to endure all sorts of suffering, and even to die in disgrace. (W'W!B, 78) This passage may well represent the words with which Marguerite Bourgeoys invited the sisters to go forth from the central house in Ville-Marie to missions all over New France. Her description of the congregation's aim as "gathering up the drops of the blood of Jesus Christ that are being lost" is strongly reminiscent of a phrase employed by Paul Le Jeune sJ, superior of the Jesuit mission in Canada. In a letter written to his superior in France in 1633 and later published and widely disseminated, he attempted to persuade wealthy women in France to support the creation of a school for native women in New France: If they applied part [of their income] to gather the drops of blood of the Son of God shed for so many souls that are lost every day for la~k of help, they would not blush with shame on the day they appear before God to render an account of the goods for which he has made them responsible.4 Two years later he renewed the request, exclaiming, "What glory in the sight of the angels, to have gathered the blood of the Son of God to apply it to these poor unbelievers! "s Review for Religious What is particularly striking is that for Le Jeune the "gather-ing" was to be accomplished by women who worked for the edu-cation of other women. Initially he suggested that the school be run by "some good courageous widow assisted by two brave young women."6 By 1635, however, numerous women in French monas-teries, "overcoming the fear natural to their sex," had offered to come to educate native women and girls. This led Le Jeune to alter his original plan and to ask that a French benefactor endow a monastery whose members would carry out the work of educa-tion: "Will not some brave lady be found to give these Amazons of the great God a passport, endow-ing them with a house in which to praise and serve His Divine Majesty in this other world?"7 Madame de la Peltrie responded to that request, and the Ursuline monastery was soon founded in Quebec as a result. Marguerite Bourgeoys's writ-ings never indicate that she read Paul Le Jeune's letters, but, given the sisters' interest in the Canadian missions, she very likely did so during her association with the Congregation de Notre-Dame in Troyes. Thus, his use of the image of gathering Christ's blood probably influenced her directly. Furthermore, although there were no Jesuits in Ville-Marie from 1657 until the end of the century, she may also have been influenced indirecdy by their approach to missionary activity through her continued con-tact with Jesuits in Quebec. Although Marguerite Bourgeoys may consciously or uncon-sciously have adopted Le Jeun~'s metaphor for mission, she mod-ified it in several ways. In the first place, she used the word ramasser, instead of recueillir, with respect to what was to be done with the drops of blood. There is a difference of nuance here. The former term suggests picking up scattered bits and pieces, and the latter suggests taking in a unified quantity (such as a harvest),s This difference in vocabulary may not be particularly significant in itself,9 but another passage from the Writings makes it clear that for her the mission of education did indeed involve gathering up the individual drops of Christ's blood: "When you go on mission you go to gather up the drops of the blood of Jesus Christ that are being lost." January-Febr~ary 2001 Fole~ ¯ Spirituali.ty_for Mission It is work suited to draw down the graces of God if it is done with purity of intention, without distinction between the poor and the rich, between relatives and friends and strangers, between the pretty and the plain, the easy-going and the grumblers, looking upon them all as drops of our Lord's blood. (W'MB, 201) Where Le Jeune had used the imagery of gathering the blood to describe specifically the education of the native women and chil-dren, here it seems to refer to all the individuals taught by the sis-ters. (By the time these lines were written, in the 1590s, they were probably teaching few native children.) If all these individuals are the drops of Christ's blood, they must be treated as sacred objects. Teaching, then, becomes a holy activity, since it brings the sisters in close contact with those sacred objects. Second, Marguerite underlined the urgency of the sisters' mis-sion by the way she extended the metaphor of the drops of blood. Le Jeune remarks that the souls of "these poor unbelievers" for whom Christ's blood has been shed are being lost; Marguerite Bourgeoys suggests that the drops of Christ's blood themselves are being lost. So important is this to her understanding that we may interpret her as going beyond mere metaphor in her reference to the drops of blood. Since the writing of the first Letter to the Corinthians, Christian theologians have often spoken of the bap-tized as constituting the body of Christ in a real, though mystical sense. For Marguerite Bourgeoys, those who needed to learn of Christ's teachings were his blood in that same mystical sense,l° Rather than allow even one drop of that blood to be wasted, a sis-ter would travel anyw.here she was sent and endure whatever was necessary for the mission. Indeed, the act of teaching was both sacred and urgent. A prayer for the congregation written on 4July 1693, at the end of her extended service as the community superior, reveals the con-nection she saw between the sisters' mission and the passion of Christ. Declaring that her trust was not in her own powers, she tells God: "I base my trust on the merits of the precious blood given for my ransom, and with your grace I would rather give up life itself than fail to uphold the truth of your words" (W-M!~, 163). Her willingness to lose her life in order to make Christ's teachings known recalls the desire "to endure all sorts of suffering and even to die in disgrace," which she claimed was characteristic of the sis-ter who traveled on mission in God's company. Her belief that the Review for Religious missionary congregation sisters would desire to suffer in the course of their mission echoes a passage from the Spiritual Exercises of Ignatius Loyola describing "the most perfect kind of humility" pos-sible for one who has decided to follow Christ: Whenever the praise and glory of the Divine Majesty would be equally served, in order to imitate and be in real-ity more like Christ our Lord, I desire and choose poverty with Christ poor, rather than riches; insults with Christ loaded with them, rather than honors; I desire to be accounted as worthless and a fool for Christ, rather than to be esteemed as wise and prudent in this world. So Christ was treated before me.~ As was true for Ignatius, Marguerite Bourgeoys believed the source of missionary activity for the congregation sister to be a call from the God "from whom she has received all things." Her missionary work is thus a grateful response to God's initiative: "She goes there at God's command." If the sister's mission comes from a divine invitation, then her going will be "in his company." The implication is that going on mission is a way for her to be present to God, a way of participating in God's activity, and hence a way of becoming holy. This is why she should be able to view any deprivation that she suffers in the course of her mission as a pos-itive advantage. "To be in want of everything, to be despised by everyone, to endure all sorts of suffering, and even to die in dis-grace" is to enter more profoundly into the way of Christ, whose mission was characterized by the shedding of his blood. Imitating Mary's Vie Voyag~re While the desire to gather up the drops of Christ's blood pro-vided motivation for the sisters' mission of education, Marguerite turned elsewhere for a way to depict their way of exercising that mission: the life Mary led on earth. The 17th century was remarkable for widespread and intense devotion to Mary, notably among the members of what has been called the French school of spirituality. In order to emphasize the greatness of God's working in her, they tended to focus on Mary's humility, dwelling on both the poverty of her origins and her hum-ble willingness to serve as the future mother of God. Furthermore, their insistence on the paradoxical juxtaposition of the "grandeurs" of Jesus in the midst of his humiliations led Cardinal de B~rulle and January-February 2001 Foley ¯ SpiritnalityforMission For Marguerite Bourgeoys the primary form of devotion to Mary was to honor her vie voyag re, her missionary life. his followers to reflect at length on the life of Jesus in Mary's womb. This is apparent in Olier's prayer "O Jesu vivens in Maria" and in their reflections on the Word's action in Mary's visitafon to Elizabeth. The visitation became central to Marguerite Bourgeoys's spirituality, as shall be seen; she shared as well the French school's emphasis on Mary's "littleness" which enabled her to become the instrument of God's power. While her version of the life of Mary reflects many of the the-ological concerns of her day, some of her contemporaries might have been puzzled by its omissions and even more by its focus. She refers very briefly to what most consider the two central moments in Mary's life, Jesus' nativity and his cru-cifixion. She merely notes that the circumstances of Christ's birth reveal Mary's love of poverty and the poor and that her presence at Calvary reveals her faithfulness, her accep-tance of God's plan of redempfon. In writings no longer available to us, she may have said more, but, given the detail she provides about other events in Mary's life, Marguerite's lack of attention to the nativity and crucifixion is at least suggestive. In contrast to B4rulle, for example, the brevity of her comments and the absence of sentimentality are quite striking. Even more striking is her focus on Mary's activity, rather than her passivity. Certainly she portrays Mary as the recipient of divine favor: God chose her, preserved her from sin, and made her Mother Of God and then Queen of heaven. But Marguerite pays far more attention to what Mary did. She shows her teaching and serving the other girls in the temple and making a vow of virginity. At the time of the annunciation, we see Mary imploring, preparing her-self, consenting, and offering herself to God. After that event she visits Elizabeth, gives birth to Jesus, receives shepherds and kings, and loses and. finds her child. Having witnessed Christ's teachings and keeping them in her heart, she teaches and encourages people during his public life, and afterwards she forms and reforms the members of the Christian community, even after her death, up to the present time. Review for Religious This focus on Mary's activity is in keeping with the advice Marguerite Bourgeoys gave her sisters: "To imitate our dear Foundress, we ought to go through her life and stop at what our Lord inspires us to do" (WMB, 52). In this emphasis she differed somewhat from the French school, for whom devotion took the form of reflecting on the eternal--and internal--"states" of Christ's and Mary's lives in order to enter those states oneself. Thus, even though he considered Mary a model of priestly and apostolic activ-ity, Jean-Jacques Olier still advocated above all a devotion to the "interior life" of Mary. The French school has in this respect been contrasted with Ignatius Loyola, whose Spiritual Exercises involve meditating on the words and particularly the actions of God, Christ, and the saints in order to imitate them.~2 While Marguerite Bourgeoys's random reflections are far different from the highly structured meditations of the Exercises, her focus on Mary's activity is more Ignatian than Berullian. Her approach to the life of Mary, however, was not that of many early-17th-century Jesuit writers, who cul-tivated a highly imaginative form of popular devotion that focused on the details of Mary's life. They were accused, not always unfairly, of promoting an exaggerated devotion to Mary that at times superseded the need for fidelity to the commandments.'3 For Marguerite Bourgeoys and for the congregation sisters, the primary form of devotion to Mary was honoring her vie voyag~re, her missionary life: M. Jendret told me one day that our Lord had left three call-ings for women to follow him and serve the church: that of St. [Mary] Magdalen was taken up by the Carmelites and other recluses and that of Saint Martha, by cloistered reli-gious who serve their neighbor; but the calling to the jour-neying life of the Virgin Mary, which needed to be honored, had not yet been taken up." (WMB, 142) Elsewhere she explains that because Mary was a teacher she incorporated the lives of both Martha and Mary Magdalen into her own: "The blessed Virgin, who was a teacher, included every-thing in her own person to an eminent degree" (WMB, 77). This depiction of Mary's "mixed" active and contemplative life was not original to Jendret,14 but he may have been the first to apply that analogy to women's communities. Nor was it common to speak of her vie voyag?re. Ordinarily the phrase refers to Christians who are still living on earth, as opposed to those who ffanuary-Februa~y 2001 Fole~ ¯ Spirituali~forMission have passed on to glory or purification--and sometimes to the public life of Jesus.~s For many 17th-century spiritual writers, this earthly, transitory, active aspect of Christ's or Mary's life was less inspiring and worthy of attention than their enduring states. By their attention to Mary's vie voyag~re, then, Antoine Jendret and Marguerite Bourgeoys presented an alternative approach to one of the central symbols of holiness in the Christian tradition. That approach had very concrete implications for the little congregation in Ville-Marie. In order to fulfill their educative mis-sion throughout New France, the sisters had to remain free to move wherever there was need. However, because holiness was most often identified with separation from "the world," and because of women's supposed fragility, ecclesiastical legislation during much of Christian history sought to protect consecrated women by insisting that they remain behind cloister walls. Indeed, the two first bishops of New France attempted to impose cloister on the congregation by urging their union with the Ursulines of Quebec. Marguerite Bourgeoys's response was to point to Mary: "The Blessed Virgin was never cloistered. She did indeed retire into an interior solitude, but she never excused herself from any journey on which there was some good to be done or some work of charity to be performed. We wish to follow her in some way" (WMB, 50). Without calling into question the value of life within a clois-ter, this .passage suggests that for Mary, and for those who wish to live her missionary way of life, love of neighbor can constitute a higher value. Clearly Marguerite shared the traditional view that this sort of uncloistered vie voyagkre could be dangerous, but she believed that those who imitated Mary's way of life would be pro-tected by an "interior solitude" and by their union with God in prayer. Dangerous or not, if Mary's work of building up the church by educating its women was to continue, then it was not only pos-sible but necessary for some women to follow her way of life. The Visitation Traditionally the sisters of the congregation renew their vows on the Feast of the Visitation. This suggests that for them Mary's visit to her cousin Elizabeth (Lk 1:39-52) is paradigmatic of their desire to become holy by going forth as missionaries. During the 17th century, however, the visitation was not nec-essarily associated with women who remained free to move out in Review for Religious order to serve their neighbor. In a reflection first published in 1679, the Capuchin Louis-Francois d'Argentan interpreted Mary's going up into the hill country as a reference to her ascent to God through contemplation and her willingness to share in God's redemptive plan. In this presentation, Mary is essentially passive in the encounter with Elizabeth, simply allowing the Word within her to speak in her.voice. D'Argentan suggests that during the visit Mary manifests humility by helping with household tasks, ardent charity (which he does not discuss further), and the way to engage in holy conversation with the neighbor. For him the ulti-mate fruit of reflection on the visitation is making "powerful resolutions to love seclusion, silence, and solitude, scorning all the rest so as to be attentive only to what is necessary, that is to say, to God alone and to the great matter of our eternity.''6 Such an interpretation of the visitation was not foreign to Marguerite Bourgeoys's thought. She too was convinced that Mary loved and was a model of soli-tude- but also was a model of conversation with others--and that the most important aspect of her encounter with Elizabeth was God's action in sanctifying the unborn John the Baptist. Nonetheless, here as always, Marguerite Bourgeoys's attention remained focused on Mary's activity and its effects. Moreover, her interpretation of that activ-ity contrasts with that of d'Argentan and even Francis de Sales, cofou

Issue 51.4 of the Review for Religious, July/August 1992. ; for religi.ous Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JULY-AUGUST 1992 ¯-VOLUME 51 ¯ NUMBER 4 Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-535-3048 ¯ FAX: 314-535-0601 Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ° St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ¯ 5001 Eastern Avenue ¯ P.O. Box 29260 Washington~ D.C. 20017. POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ° P.O. Box 6070 ° Duluth, MN 55806. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional offices. SUBSCRIPTION RATES Single copy $5 includes surface mailing costs. One-year subscription $15 plus mailing costs. Two-year subscription $28 plus mailing costs. See inside back cover for more subscription information and mailing costs. ©1992 Review for Religious for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Assistant Editors Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Michael G. Harter SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Mary Margaret Johanning SSND Iris Ann Ledden SSND Edmundo Rodriguez SJ Se~in Sammon FMS Wendy Wright PhD Suzanne Zuercher OSB Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JULY-AUGUST 1992 ¯ VOLUME 51 ¯ NUMBER 4 contents evangelizing and witnessing ° 486 Church of the Poor Juan Ram6n Moreno sJ reflects on the implications of seeing the poor as central for the identity of the church and religious life. 496 Women Missioners amidst Violence Annmarie Sanders IHM reflects the questions, fears, and chal-lenges facing foreign women missionaries in Peru. 504 School of Terror Roy Bourgeois MM speaks on behalf of the poor as he voices his concern about a particular military training camp called the School of the Americas. inculturating 508 Women Religious and the African Synod M. Gerard Nwagwu offers her thoughts on the evangelization of Africa in an article originally presented as the keynote address at the National Day of Celebration of the Nigerian Conference of Women Religious in January 1992. 519 Rerooting Religious Life in South Africa Jennifer Mary Alt OP reflects on how native African spiritual values might become better integrated into the religious-life vocation. 527 54O 545 living religiously Religious Life and Religion Albert DiIanni SM calls attention to the religious core of a belief in God and of our relationship with God which cannot be reduced to a personal~ social, or ecological morality. Detachment in Our Psychological Age Eileen P. O'Hea CSJ explains detachment as a way of freeing ourselves from our compulsive behaviors and opening ourselves to God's healing. An Ache in My Heart Bernard Seif SMC witnesses to the continuing call and direction of God in bringing forth new forms of dedicated life in the " church. 482 Review Jbr Religious focusing religious life 550 Religious Life in Church Documents Patricia F. Walter OP presents some aspects identifying religious life in conciliar and postconciliar documents of the magisterium. 562 The Ignatian Charism of the Sisters of St. Joseph Joan L. Roccasalvo CSJ shows how the Spiritual Exercises per-meate Jean-Pierre M~daille's Maxims of Perfection and so fire an Ignatian spirit for the Sisters of St. Joseph. 575 Envisioning Associate Identity Rose Marie Jasinski CBS reflects on the status of the associate movement in the light of the second national conference held 5-7 May 1991. 581 Musings about Vocations James E. Claffey CM finds vocation ministry a stimulant to a broader understanding of how God breaks into our history. 585 595 600 614 484 625 632 ministering Pastoral Leadership beyond the Managerial (XL*~ Matthias Neuman OSB stresses the role of spiritual leadership in the midst of ministry challenges. Scarcity and Abundance in Parishes Thomas P. Sweetser SJ compares the parish to a desert of scarci-ties, but at the same time a desert beautiful with hidden wells of life. Marian Community and Ministry Patrick Primeaux SM combines data from both the theological and businessomanage.ment disciplines to distinguish a Petrine and a Marian way of ministering and of living community. Three Images of Priesthood Henry J. Charles proposes the images of priest as collaborator, mystagogue, and holy man for a renewed understanding of priesthood. departments Prisms /~ Canonical Counsel: Involuntary Ex~laustration Book Reviews .l~uly-Augu.ct 1992 483 prisms History happens. We human beings can write our history books and, by emphasis and omission and sometimes by romanticizing, make as if we are mas-ters of our history. It may take only some seventy years for the rewriting of the Communist history of Russia or it may take five hundred years for the European discovery of the Americas to be reevaluated. But it happens. We say that Pope John XXIII made history when he called the Second Vatican Council. We are well aware that the church experienced, through the actions of the bishops present at the council, something that has been likened to a second Pentecost. For our own availability to the God of history, we need to return again and again to the happening of that first Pentecost and the subsequent events as recorded in the Acts of the Apostles. God's Spirit makes things happen, even when the very persons involved seem so little capable of being the crafters of history. Most recently Pope John Paul II has expressed his own desire to make history by his call for a new evangelization, partic-ularly occasioned by our entering into the third millen-nium. This call to a new evangelization holds the promise of another moment of this second Pentecost that came with Vatican II. It is history happening, in which none of us is the master or control-artist, but every one of us plays an important role--with the Spirit's direction. Evangelization--new evangelization--demands much of us all. A paradigm of evangelization and inculturation captures our attention anew as we reflect upon the events in the Acts of the Apostles. It means that no one can hold himself or herself exempt from the call of this second moment of the second Pentecostqthe call to a new hear- 484 Review for Religious ing of good news. This is not the time for new rules or the impo-sition of old ones--the Judaizers tried that two thousand years ago. It is the time for Cornelius, his wife, and household to invite Peter once again to proclaim the gospel so that new conversion on everyone's part can take place. It is the time for Peter to dream new dreams and hear God telling him that old restrictions do not apply in a new creation moment. One of the deepest meanings of Pentecost lies in the fact that all peoples heard the good news in a way that they could under-stand and respond to. It goes beyond the language barrier to breakthroughs involving customs, heritages, and rituals. In the Pentecost beginnings, Jesus Christ and the gospel message needed no inculturation. In the new evangelization as in the original one recorded in the Acts of the Apostles, it is not Jesus Christ who needs to be inculturated; he is already a confidant of people's hearts. It is his church that must be inculturated by being evan-gelized anew as well as by evangelizing others. The Acts of the Apostles--the story of the first evangelizing time--portrays the exhilarating and somber picture that inculturating a church does not come without cost--a cost which everyone must bear in lis-tening to ~hocking good news, in experiencing a certain amount of turmoil, in suffering the pain of differences expressed vigorously by people who serve or are served. John Paul II has said that "we need an evangelization that is new in its ardor, new in its method, new in its expressions." That ' is what we--always the disciples--must allow to happen to our-selves first: to be evangelized anew in order to be the new evan-gelizers. We need to rethink how to inculturate a church, not a gospel. If the original Jewish and pagan converts to the new Christian faith seemed to share little common religious heritage and ritual and yet, with struggle, came to form the Body of Christ, can we today not recognize the imperative of a new evangelization demanding the same kind of breakthrough for traditionalists, lib-erals, feminists, or whatever modern-day version an appeal to the party of Apollos or Paul takes? A new evangelization brings the excitement of discovery into our own lives and so into our church. Let the Spirit lead. It has happened; it will happen again. David L. Fleming SJ ~uly-Augu~t 1992 485 JUAN RAMON MORENO Church of the Poor evangelizing and witnessing Juan Ram6n Moreno SJ was one of six Jesuits mur-dered along with an employee and her daughter by Salvadoran military forces at the Jesuit residence of the Central American University, San Salvador, on 16 November 1989. He was widely known as a spiritual director, teacher, preacher, and giver of retreats and conferences and was the founder and editor of the spirituality journal Diakonfa. Besides holding other responsibilities, at various times he was novice director for the Jesuits of Central America, local superior, university professor, and president of the Panamanian and Nicaraguan con-ferences of religious. This article was first published in Diakonfa 7 (1978): 17-28 and republished in a collection of Father Moreno's writings, Evangelio y misidn (San Salvador: UCA Editores, 1990). The translation is by James R. Brockman SJ with the permission of UCA Editores. The footnotes are the translator's. The term "church of the poor" is meant to express a new awareness of what it is to be church, an awareness that is growing in force among Christians in Latin America. The following thoughts are proposed as a help toward under-standing the foundation and principal traits of this way of viewing the church. Church of the Poor and Vatican II The schema on the church elaborated by the precon-ciliar doctrinal commission brought together the ecclesi-ology traditionally taught in recent centuries, and the 486 Review for Religious that allow one to recognize in Jesus the hoped-for Messiah are that "the blind see and the lame walk., and the good news is proclaimed to the poor" (Mt 11:5), what should be the traits that make recognizable Jesus' church? Church Born from Below Vatican II has allowed us to pass from a church that becomes conscious of itself and is organized and structured fr0m within, from itself, to a church that seeks to understand and structure itselffr0m without, from the world that it has been sent to in order to make God's kingdom grow in that world. Nevertheless, the reality that the world is a divided world had not yet made its full impact on the council. Consequently, the challenges to which it more directly proposes to respond are those of a world seen too much from above, from the angle of the learned and the skilled, from the culture and the perspective of the dominant classes. But at Medellfn2 the Latin American bishops began to express in an inspired and probing manner the conflictive reality of our world. The cry of the impoverished majority of the continent found an echo. The church began to become aware of itself and to organize and structure its life and pastoral action not from an abstract world or from just any part of the real, concrete world, but from below, from the world of the poor, and from there to fashion itself as the true church of Christ. Church of the Poor One must not confuse church of the poor with church3'br the poor. A church for the poo~r would be a church that is constituted in a first step that is logically prior to its encounter with the poor and then, in a second step, seeks out the poor to serve and help them. But the church of the poor is a church that in its very con-stitution has the poor as its center. There is no doubt that the church, as the historical body of Christ, must place itself in the world to transform it and to make present in it the reign of God. It must be incarnated, that is, take a body, become a visible and acting institution. But the problem is, what are the criteria that are to determine its institutional shape? What body will it take? Faithful to the incarnational logic of Jesus, the church must take the body of the poor, incorporat-j~ uly-.4ugust 1992 489 Moreno ¯ Church of the Poor ing the poor, making the poor to be those who make up what is characteristic and determinant of its body, which is structured and takes visible form from the cause and the interests of the poor. Let us take a Gospel passage that graphically illustrates this, which is the particular way of acting of Jesus. I choose the short scene with which Mark begins his third chapter. He describes a Jesus situated within a determined sociocultural-religious con-text. But Jesus is situated in it concretely, and he is situated in a way which is perceived by one of the parties as threatening to its interests--"they wer~ watching him closely" (3:2)--and which provokes a conflict so sharp that "they plotted together to see how to eliminate him" (3:6). What is indicative is the place where Jesus is situated and from which he faces the situation: solidarity with the actual man, the man in his poverty, the man oppressed by his paralyzed hand and forsaken by the institution. He has him step into the middle of the synagogue. And he obliges the others, the representatives of the grand institution, to face up to their own presuppositions: Is it licit or not? What is more important, the institution or the person, maintaining the institution or free-ing a man from what concretely oppresses him? What is the cri-terion to act on? "But they were silent" (3:4). Jesus' reaction is, "Then looking at them with anger . . ." (3:5). Countless times the Gospels speak of Jesus' look--always a loving and compas-sionate look. Now he looks "with anger." At whom? At that group of wise, prudent men who are respectful of the institution. Why? Because they refuse to commit themselves to the man, they refuse to make a decision in regard to a poor person, they refuse to take a stand in a situation that questions their rigid institutional schemes. Jesus says, "Hold out your hand" (3:5). Jesus chooses the poor person, the man in a situation of concrete need. The institution is either at the service of human beings orit does not reflect the true God. The Gospels contain many even more radical expressions about the poor as the fundamental criterion for discerning whether we are following the path to God's kingdom. Perhaps the most awesome and disquieting is the words contained in Matthew 25:31-46: "Come, blessed ones of my Father, inherit the kingdom . . . for I was hungry and you gave me to eat. depart from me, accursed ones., for I was naked and you did no~' clothe me . " There is not much room here for sociological or 490 Review for Religious theological lucubrations about who are the poor that are spoken of and what is the determinant criterion for measuring God's nearness. Crucified Church As we can see in the example of Jesus, taking the side of the poor supposes having the courage to get involved in conflict. The history of the Latin American church since Medellfn confirms what has been true all through its existence: insofar as it empties itself of power and prestige so as to enter the world of the poor and be identified with them and their cause, it has also had to suffer their lot--crucifixion and death--and it has come to under-stand why it cannot follow Jesus without denying itself and car-rying the cross. It is because the immense majority of the poor are not poor simply because of nature, but because of other persons. In reality, the poor are the impoverished. Hence, their mere pres-ence is an accusation, a questioning; it creates conflict. The poor are a cause of division, a division whose theological meaning is apocalyptically described in the eschatological discourse I have mentioned: "He will separate one from the other, as the shep-herd separates the sheep from the goats" (Mt 25:32). Jesus him-self, poor and in solidarity with the poor, appears as "a sign of contradiction" (Lk 2:34); and when he takes his place actually at the side of the poor, he provokes conflict and repression, and he suffers death. For this reason the church of the poor is the crucified church, the church of the martyrs. It is so insofar as it is a church of the poor. As long as it preaches universal but abstract love, as long as it is a church from above, the world's powerful praise and respect it; they consider it their church. But when it begins to translate love into historical terms, when it begins to take the side of the poor and it plans and organizes its pastoral work with them in mind, then it begins also to be the church that is slandered and persecuted. If we look at this fact in the light of the Beatitudes (see Lk 6:22-23, 26) there is no doubt which one is the church of Jesus. Church in which the Poor are Evangelized The poor are the privileged consignees of the good news of .~ly-Aug'ust 1992 491 Moreno ¯ Church of the Poor salvation. That does not mean they are the exclusive consignees. Partiality is not the same as exclusiveness. Jesus comes to bring sal-vation for all. But he comes to bring it from the poor, and fi'om them he confronts the changes that must come about in the world; he makes specific what it means to be converted, what it means to become brothers and sisters. This is not a matter of mystifying the poor, as if they were the good and the rich were the bad. It is that objectively God's identi-fication with the poor, the defense of their cause, is precisely where it is revealed what God is, a God who is love that saves, love that creates a brotherhood and sisterhood of sons and daughters, love that makes all things new. And so it is from there that salva-tion is offered to all. The Beatitudes proclaim, not the goodness of human beings, but the goodness of the God who identifies with the little ones of the earth. The Acts of the Apostles describes for us a church that under, stood this very well and where for that reason the poor find their place in such a way that they cease to be poor: Among them no one was needy, because all those who pos-sessed land or houses sold them and brought the price of the sale., and distribution was made to all according to their needs (Ac 4:34-35). It is the very gesture of him who "being rich became poor for you in order to enrich you with his poverty (2 Co 8:9). Church in which the Poor Evangelize Us This is another of the traits that characterize the church of the poor. St. John declares: Everyone who loves . . . knows God. Whoever does not love does not know God, for God is love (1 Jn 4:7-8). But those who from their objective condition teach the church what true love of God, Christian love, consists in are the poor: If someone has material possessions and sees a brother in need and yet closes his heart to him, how can love of God dwell in him? My children, let us love not just with words, with our lips, but with actions and in truth (1 Jn 3:17-18). The poor reveal to us what the demands are of that love which, because it is Christian, seeks efficacy and a real change in the conditions of suffering and injustice of the poor. They makd us discover who God is: the one who takes the part of the orphan, 492 Review for Religious the widow, the stranger, the one who becomes their goeL They make us understand the Jesus who has compassion, who casts out demons, who looks with anger. They reveal to us the demons that must be cast out today, what the sin is that today stirs up the Lord's anger, what it is that today negates brotherhood, that kills our brother or sister. It is from the poor we must learn what grace means, grace that is manifested in powerlessness, that makes possible the impossible, that bursts in as pure gift. In short, they keep on making us discover the Gospel in a new dimension. On the other hand, if the poor are the privileged consignees of the good news of the kingdom, that means they must also be privileged in understanding and interpreting what that good news signi-fies. The Gospel is understood through the lens of the poor and from their per-spective. Therefore, it is in them before all else that the Spirit becomes present, From the poor we must learn what grace means, grace that is manifested in powerlessness, that makes possible the impossible, that bursts in as pure gift. and from there the Spirit speaks today to the church. There is a hierarchical magisterium in the church, but it only makes sense if it is rooted in the reality of those poor who make up the church's rank and file. The good shepherd's sheep follow him because "they know his voice" and "he knows his own sheep" (Jn 10:4, 14). The hierarchy of the church of the poor is a hierarchy of service, not of domination. It is a hierarchy that knows its sheep in dia-logue and solidarity, that is ai~tuned to their concrete needs, their sufferings, their longings. Precisely for this reason, because it can hear and understand the people's silent cry, it is able to speak with a language that is recognizable, and in the hierarchy's voice the poor find their life, their cause, their hope, their own voice. The theological reflection of the church of the poor is done from below also, tuning in to 'the awareness and the feelings of the poor. Those poor have had their voice taken away--within the church as well--for so long that they have forgotten how to speak and must learn, to express themselves; but they must increasingly acquire a voice within the church. And that voice must be heard, because in it is revealed the Spirit of Jesus that guides the church. Thus will arise a church where things are considered, struc-at~ dy-./lugust 1992 493 Moreno ¯ Church of tbe Poor tured, and carried out from the perspective of the poor. It is they who say how the institution should function, what new ministries are required for a better service, what ministries and functions they need so that they themselves may be active participants within the church's life. Church on Its Way We must not forget that this church of the poor is also a pil-grim church, a church that must keep forming itself through hard-ship and conflict. I am not referring now to conflict with the powers of the world; I am talking about the world and the sin that are still found within the church itself, about conflict that arises from the church's limitations and from different models of church. The church's unity--that unity for which Jesus died--is eschatological unity, a unity that will come about beyond the church itself as fundamental gift of the kingdom that will burst forth into fullness. The church has a mission to go on building that unity--which is universal brotherhood and sisterhood--by attacking at the root what keeps that unity from being realized. That is not achieved by denying the reality of the conflict, but by facing up to the lack of love and Folidarity that produces it. The mere existence of the poor exposes that lack of love and sol-idarity- which is why there will be protest, conflict, and division as long as there are poor--and it reminds us that salvation, the fullness of God's reign, has not yet arrived. The Religious Life in the Church of the Poor What place do we religious have within this church of the poor that I have just described? The religious life arises as protest against the values and struc-tures of the world. It arises as a search for what is radical in the Gospel, for the "one thing necessary" (Lk 10:42), which tends to be obscured in a church tempted to become worldly, to stop being the distinct event that it ought to be within the world. With its special form of Christian existence, religious life ought to be prophecy that points continually towards the church's true mean-ing and calls on it, not to settle down, but to seek ever to go for-ward. That is the eschatological meaning of the vows, as they show us a beyond that urgesus to transform the present. 494 Review for Religious But what is the natural place for religious life to flourish? Where is the root that makes our life radically evangelical? If what I have said about the church of the poor is true, then there is no doubt that the poor are the place par excellence where the reli-gious life should be located in order to carry out its charism of prophecy. In point of fact, the Spirit is stirring up a notable move-ment among religious towards a real and concrete insertion among the poor. From there the Spirit provides light for a reinterpreta-tion of religious life itself. The religious vows are seen before all else as ,consecration to the Christ who is poor and identified with the poor, as vows that consecrate by freeing us from fixity and exclusiveness so as to form Christians who are available for all and approachable by all, but with an availability and approacha-bility whose universalness is shown precisely in being dedicated by preference to the poor and effectively committed to their cause. It means being detached in order to go where the institution can scarcely reach because of the difficulty and poverty of the condi-tions. Jon Sobrino expresses it very well as a going to the desert, the periphery, the frontier: to the desert, where no one is, where no one wants to go; to the periphery, where everything is seen through the lens of the powerless (not to the center, where the powerful are, where things are seen from above); to the frontier, where risks are greater and the task is harder, where there are no trodden paths because no one has trod them and the walkways are made by walking. What better way to fulfill religious life's prophetic function within the church than to help it read the signs of the times from that insertion into the world and struggle of the poor? What bet-ter way than to point out the new paths that the Spirit of Jesus is having us discover through the poor, in whom that Spirit becomes so specially present? The challenge offered us is, how to bring this about? To what conversion does the Lord call us as religious within the church so that we may help it become increasingly a church of the poor? Notes 1 The Documents of Vatican H (New York: The America Press, 1966), pp. 23-24. 2 The 1968 Latin American bishops' assembly at Medell~n, Colombia. July-August 1992 495 ANNMARIE SANDERS Women Missioners amidst Violence efforts of two insurgency groups, drug lords, and a military that violates more human rights than the groups it seeks to suppress. Through the country more than sixty percent of the people are living in emergency zones, and a great deal of these areas have been placed under military control. Many of the towns have lost their leaders, doctors, teachers, and development workers and even their police. Often only Catholic church workers remain, the great majority of whom are women religious. The situation has called us who serve here to a new way of liv-ing and ministering among the people and to a new spirituality. Following Christ and living Christian values can no longer be done as in the past. The reality in which our spirituality is lived out is now radically different. In speaking with various foreign women missionaries through-out Peru, I see that we struggle with many of the same new chal-lenges, are asking ourselves the same questions, and are recognizing similar patterns in our lives of prayer and relation with God. Our situation is unique because of the state of the country in which we work. The complexity of problems plaguing Annmarie Sanders IHM, a member of her congregation's vocation and formation team, has been in Peru since March 1989, She also works as associate editor of Latinamerica Press/Noticias Aliadas. Her address is Apartado 18-0101 ; Lima, Peru. 496 Review for Religious Peru does not follow any pattern in the history of other nations, and thus we have no precedent to follow. To understand our questions, fears, and challenges, one must better understand the context of the violence we face. Peru's two terrorist groups, the Maoist Sendero Luminoso (Shining Path) and the Tupac Amaru Revolutionary Move-ment, hold as their primary goals the takeover of the country. So far their efforts since 1980 ¯ have resulted in 23,000 deaths, 5,000 disap-pearances and US$18 billion in economic damage. Sendero has declared its willingness to wade through a "river of blood" to expunge foreign influence in Peru and establish a peas-ant society. It rejects competition from the church, the state, and the private sector. The methods of the two groups include bombings, intimidations, blackmail, torture, and ruth-less murder. The terrorist groups are known to be linked with narco-traffic rings, and in return for the security which the terrorists provide coca traffickers, they receive an esti-mated $40 million a year. Although the current government of Although the terrorist problem has been present in the country for over a decade, only recently has the church been directly affected. President Albert Fujimori attempts to control the drug trafficking and terrorist situations, it also battles cholera, endemic corruption, frequent drought, eighty-percent underemployment, and a deep economic depression leaving 13 million of Peru's 22 million inhabitants in extreme poverty, a figure which has doubled in three years. The government must also contend with the Peruvian military and police forces, which, according to the Washington Office on Latin America, are among the worst violators of human rights in the hemisphere. The U.S. State Department's 1990 human-rights report notes "widespread credible reports of summary executions, arbitrary arrests, and torture and rape by the military, as well as less frequent reports of such abuses by the police." The United Nations Commission on Human Rights noted that in 1991, for the fourth consecutive year, Peru had the highest number of disap-pearances of all the countries in the world. Although the terrorist problem has been present in the coun-try for over a decade, only recently has the church been directly affected. Between the church and the terrorists there had existed .~dy-August 1992 497 Sanders ¯ Women Missioners amidst Violence an "understanding." Generally, when terrorists entered to take over a village, if church workers complied with terrorist expecta-tions they were left unharmed. The church work often had to be significantly curtailed,.'but the religious could remain as a presence to the people. The recent direct destruction of church projects and prop-erty; the deaths of Irene McCormack, an Australian Sister of St. Joseph, in Junin in May 1991 and of Zbigniew Strzalkowski and Michael Tomaszek, Polish Franciscan priests, and Alessandro Dordi Negroni, an Italian priest, in Chimbote in August 1991; and the attempted assassination in July 1991 in Chimbote of Miguel Company, a priest from Spain, changed the scene signif-icantly. More religious encountered terrorist demands that their works--especially food aid and development projects--be stopped, and many received direct threats on their lives. Rather suddenly priests and religious became direct terrorist targets. Sendero Luminoso proclaimed that the church was the enemy of the peo-ple and an obstacle to revolutionary triumph. As the Rev. Robert Gloisten, a U.S. missioner and a staff member of the Peruvian Episcopal Conference for Social Action, stated, "We have become a church under fire with no idea of what will happen day to day." For several years, denial of the serious-ness of the situation was possible. Life was carried on with a vague knowledge that terrorists were active in a few isolated areas; as long as their activity did not directly touch us, we could continue peacefully. Those days are past. ~ The level of awareness and acceptance of the reality of this sit-uation naturally differs for each person. Much depends on one's personal experiences. For example, Pittsburgh Sister of Mercy Rita Harasiuk, who works in the diocese of Chimbote, was jolted by the death of her three colleagues into a new view of the situation: Although I began seeing things differently with the attempted assassination of Miguel Company, it was really the deaths of the two Franciscans that affected me the most. The two, along with two mayors from nearby towns who were also killed, were laid out together in coffins--all open-- and one worse than the other. For some of us, it was the first time we had seen what a human body looked like after having been shot in the head with weapons designed to destroy and mutilate . When Sandro [Alessandro Dordi] was killed two weeks later, we could see that more killing might go on. That's when we really began to strug-gle with what our response to this situation should be. 498 Review for Religious For California native Teresa Avalos of the Sisters of St. Joseph of Carondelet, an incident directly involving her community played a significant role in making the situation more real for her and her sisters. In July 1991 a group of Sendero Luminoso ter-rorists entered Moho, where five of her community members lived and worked. They dynamited several buildings, executed six people, and ordered the townspeople to break into and ransack the convent. "This brought the fear of violence that is directed toward us much more into the open," Avalos said. Others of us have grown in our acceptance of the seriousness of the situation from our hearing such accounts by our colleagues. We stand in solidarity with them, aware that the problem is no longer isolated. An important task most of us have faced has been the admission of our feelings in the midst of such turmoil. Fear, nat-urally, is among the most common emotions, and, unfortunately, sometimes very difficult to accept and share with others. "We are all at different stages of being able to accept the real-ity, and some are still in a stage of denial," said California native Liane Delsuc of the Sisters of Notre Dame de Namur. "This leaves me often feeling alone and sometimes I don't want to share my fears because others don't feel them. I start to think--is it only me that feels this way? Does that mean I should leave? That I am not able to handle it? But I do not feel that is the case. So I look for people with whom I can more freely share because in sharing it I feel stronger and as if I can continue living this." The sharing has helped us understand the wide range of emo-tions we feel. "Reflecting with others enables me to sift through real fears and imaginary ones," said Pauline Maheux, an Edmonton, Canada, native of the Ursuline Sisters of the Chatham Union; "in sharing we help one another admit to our fears and face them." The emotions one feels get mixed up when one watches the sense-less killing and destruction of years of work. Feelings include shock and anger. Often what is hardest for us to accept is the distrust we now feel towards others since we know that we must be aware of terrorist infiltration into our parishes and workplaces. An important task most of us have faced has been the admission of our feelings in the midst of such turmoil. July-August 1992 499 Sanders ¯ Women Missioners amidst Violence Harasiuk received a shocking revelation of this after the funeral for the slain Franciscans. At the offertory two gifts were quietly brought in procession to the altar: the rope used to tie the hands of those killed and the blood-covered cardboard left on their bodies with messages from the assassins. "We later dis-covered that among the young people bringing the gifts to the altar were persons who belonged to Sendero." Our situation naturally causes us to reflect on death--that which we see around us as well as our own. "I think much more about the possibility of my own death," said French native Anna Ingett of the Sisters of Christian Education; "not that I think death will come in the next few days,,but I am more conscious of its nearness." Given this stark reality, we are constantly asking ourselves on personal, communal, local, diocesan, and national levels: How do we deal with this personally and how are we to respond as church workers? One of the greatest challenges we face is receiving accu-rate information about what is happening in the country. The media in Peru are severely restricted and often rely on third-party sources; great doubts remain. Although organizations such as the Religious Conference of Peru work hard to gather facts, the dis-semination of information is very difficult, given the lack many religious have of telephones and reliable mail service. Many reli-gious, however, felt aided by the Religious Conference's meet-ings and workshops on violence and also by programs dealing with situations and problems in the various dioceses. What seems most useful to us are open, honest dialogues with our community members and other religious working in our areas. Many of us have listened to the facts, tried to process our feelings, and then asked ourselves some hard questions: How much more of this can I take? Will I leave if one more religious or priest is killed? Can I live with this tension? Can I remain a sign of hope in what looks like an apparently hopeless situation? Once some sense of peace was reached about our presence here, we began reexamining why we are staying. Many of us, espe-cially those working the emergency zones, began looking at our work with very different eyes. "After the deaths here, most of us slowed down and started thinking, evaluating, praying, and talk-ing together about why we are here and what we should be doing," said Harasiuk, who has been working for ten years as a pastoral team member in Chimbote. She recalls a meeting of priests and 500 Revlew for Religious sisters where someone asked, "Do you think you should continue working as you have been?" Not one person said yes. Many pastoral workers have reduced their work to simple presence in their parishes. They no longer lead groups, distribute food and aid, or attempt to organize the people. They maintain a low profile and lead quiet lives of simple accompaniment. For Delsuc, who is principal in a Lima barrio of a Fe and Alegrfa School, one of forty-three institutes set up by the Jesuits to educate young people in Lima's shantytowns and in the provinces, the questions about work are many: "I wonder if we are presenting relevant, peaceful alterna-tives that will allow the people to respond with Christian values to the violence around them? I wonder if it would'be better not to be involved in a certain work and just live alongside the people? I wonder if our commit-ment to the people is valuable even if it brings death?" Many of our ques-tions must be left unanswered. But we recognize that simply by asking them we have allowed our lives to be changed. For many of us, before we could accept the change the situ-ation calls us to, we had to let go of the past. Harasiuk says that this was a common experience for the religious in Chimbote after the deaths. "Our grieving process was not just for persons, but for a whole way of life that is passing. This situation has taken away from us a freedo~n to move day and night without fear, to speak openly without worrying about what we say or to who~n we are talking." For Harasiuk this experience also helped her to evaluate her life and her activity and to decide what really matters. "So many of the things I had been involved in suddenly did not seem so important." Maheux, who has served as a pastoral worker for eight years in Chiclayo, had a similar experience. "The situation has enabled me to sift through what is of essence and what is truly insignifi-cant. Relationships have taken on profound meaning . . . to be nourished and cherished." The change in relationships extends for most of us also to I wonder if we are presenting relevant, peaceful alternatives that will allow the people to respond with Christian values to the violence around them ? j~t~-Aug'u~ 1992 501 Sanders ¯ Women Missioners amidst Violence our relation with God. Many have noted that prayer is more dif-ficult, little ecstasy is experienced, much more anger is expressed, fewer words are used, and often God becomes the scapegoat for all of Peru's problems. Christ, for many of us, reveals himself in new ways in Scripture. "I experience Christ more in his passion, where he ends up in the midst of violence, mistreatment, and ridicule but stands strong to his values and commitments," said Delsuc. Many seek a sense of consolation in their relation with God--an assurance that they are loved and that God is still in control. Many, feeling lost in the confusion of these times, turn to God as a source of wisdom. For Lia Finnerty, a Canadian Holy Cross sister working in Juli, prayer is now more integrally connected with what is hap-pening in the news and in her village. "My prayer is the time when I can try to integrate our reality with God's word and see how our community is touched by all that." That need to connect our prayer with the wider community and to pray with others is co,ninon among us. Many note that the desire for communal peti-tionary prayer is much stronger and that it is a helpful experi-ence to bring to God each day all that we see and experience each day. Ingett, who serves on a pastoral team in Sicuani, notes that her community's time of petitionary prayer is also a time for asking pardon for all that these women experience in their daily inter-action with the people. Living in the midst of so much violence and structural injustice has clearly revealed to many of us the anger and violence present within ourselves. "Sometimes it's so hard to hear that the police have attacked innocent victims or tortured young people," admitted Finnerty. "My first reaction is often a violent one, even though I want to be nonviolent." We all seem to struggle with the anger we feel and our desire to be compassionate, and we ask ourselves many questions about how we can be more nonviolent people. We are trying different approaches. Massachusetts native Carmen Foley, a Halifax Sister of Charity serving as a spiritual director in Lima, is looking at her interactions with others and her judgments and is trying to be more merciful in her attitudes. Avalos, a pastoral worker in a Lima barrio and formhr.vice-provincial of her congregation, is look-ing at violence in her speech and her reactions. Finnerty, a pastoral worker among the Aymara people, is returning to the Aymaran value of solidarity and community as a block to violence. Delsuc 502 Review for Religious is practicing communication techniques to become more skilled in conflict resolution. Probably most important for all of us, however, is an openness to learn from the Peruvian people, who seem to know better than any of us just what hope in the midst of crisis is all about. As Maheux concluded, "My greatest source of hope for the future is the women, men, and children with whom I live. Their faith-fulness to the daily struggle to just live--to being able to eat, to the one-day-at-a-time facing of tremendous obstacles--teaches me that justice, peace, and life will endure and win out." Coming Out one shall know as dawn disentangles morning from night if one's desert spell was purgation or vacation was awakening or escape when one emerges anointed in power or scorched and spent Andrea Wild OSF July-August 1992 503 ROY BOURGEOIS School of Terror write from the Federal prison in Tallahassee, Florida, where am serving a sixteen-month sentence for an act of civil dis-obedience to protest the training of Salvadoran soldiers on United States soil. As I look back, I feel my being here is no accident, but rather the result of God's grace at work in my life. Growing up in rural Louisiana, I was a Sunday Christian and gave little thought to issues of peace and justice. I studied geology in college with the hope of getting rich in the oil fields of South America. After college I became a naval officer and volunteered for duty in Vietnam, feeling it was. my patriotic duty to fight communism. There I met a missionary who, amid the war, gave me a vision of Jesus as a healer and peacemaker. I left Vietnam wanting to be a missionary and entered Maryknoll, whose work is in twenty-eight countries overseas and in the United States. I was ordained in 1972 and went to serve the poor of Bolivia. A slum on the outskirts of La Paz became my home for six years. In Bolivia, as in Vietnam, the poor became my teachers and challenged me to grow in my faith. I then returned to do educational work in the United States. My involvement with E1 Salvador began in 1980, after Archbishop Oscar Romero was gunned down at the altar and after four church women from the United States were raped and killed by Salvadoran soldiers. Two of the women, Maryknoll sisters Maura Clarke and Ita Ford, were friends of mine. Their death forced me to confront what was happening in this small Central American country. Roy Bourgeois MM writes that prison can be a good place to read Scripture, pray, and do ministry. His address is Register No. 01579-017; PMB 1000; Tallahassee, Florida 32301. 504 Review for Religious After several trips to E1 Salvador, it became clear that the problem was not "communism" or "subversion" but hunger. As is the case almost everywhere in Latin America, the wealth, power, and land of E1 Salvador are in the hands of an elite few. While these live in huge mansions where they are waited on by servants and enjoy frequent vacations and shopping sprees in the United States and Europe, most Salvadorans live in dehumanizing pover.ty and die before their time. The poor, once told that their suffering was the will of God, now know better as they gather in small groups to read and reflect on the word of God. They now real-ize that their poverty and suffering are the result of exploitation, greed, and irresponsible stew-ardship of God's creation. In May 1983, five hundred Salvadoran sol-diers arrived at Fort Benning, Georgia, to undergo U.S. Army training. At the time, I was speaking at churches and colleges in New Orleans about the injustice of U.S. military aid to E1 Salvador. I felt it was no time for business as usual, so I went to Columbus, Georgia, the home of Fort Benning, and began meeting with local residents. After two months of meet-ings, talks, and prayer vigils, three of us decided to enter Fort Benning at night, dressed as U.S. Army officers. Armed with a.high-powered cassette player, we climbed a tall pine tree near the barracks that housed the Salvadoran soldiers. At lights out, we tuned the cassette player to its highest volume and played Archbishop Romero's last homily, given in the cathedral the day before he was assassinated; in it he called on the military to stop the killing and lay down their arms. We were arrested, tried for criminal trespass ~and impersonating military officers, and sen-tenced to eighteen months' imprisonment. After serving my term I sought a few months of silence and solitude at. a Trappist monastery, then returned to the pulpit and classroom. On 16 November 1989 six Jesuit priests, their coworker, and her fifteen-year-old daughter were brutally murdered in E1 Salvador. According to a U.S. Congressional task force sent to El Salvador to investigate the massacre, five of the nine soldiers arrested for the slayings had been trained at Fort Benning. Today, hundreds of Salvadoran and other Latin American soldiers are being trained at Fort Benning's School of the Americas. The The problem was not "communism" or "subversion" bu t hunger. .y~dy-August 1992 505 Bourgeois ¯ Scbool of Terror School of the Americas (SOA) was located in Panama before mov-ing to Benning in 1984. Since 1946 this training ground for Latin American soldiers has quietly readied some 45,000 officers and enlisted men for right-wing Latin American governments. Manuel Noriega is a distinguished alumnus, as is General Hugo Banzer of Bolivia. In 1984, when the SOA was forced out of Panama, then Panamanian president Jorge Illueja described the school as "the biggest base of destabilization in Latin America." The foundation of the course work at the School of the Americas is low-intensity conflict (LIC), which, by military ana-lyst Michael Klare's definition, is "that amount of murder, muti-lation, torture, rape, and savagery that is sustainable without triggering widespread public disapproval at home." Students of LIC learn that the enemy is not just an opposing armed force; rather, the enemy can include anyone, armed or unarmed, who threatens the stability of the existing order. Hence, priests, teach-ers, health-care workers, union leaders, cooperative members, and human-rights advocates are among the victims of the School of the Americas. On 3 September 1990, ten of us--Vietnam veterans, Salva-dorans, a teacher, and members of the clergy--began a water-only fast at the entrance of Fort Benning to protest the training of' Salvadoran soldiers. When our fast ended after thirty-five days, our bodies were weak but our spirits remained strong. Miguel Cruz, a Salvadoran in our group who had been forced to leave his country because of a death threat, said, "We have the option to end our fast. However, the poor in my country do not. For them hunger is an everyday occurrence." On November 16, when we had recovered from the fast, three of us--Charles Liteky, a former army chaplain who had received the Medal of Honor for heroism in Vietnam; his brother Patrick, who had trained at Fort Benning's Infantry School, and I-- returned to Fort Benning to observe the first anniversary of the killing of the six Jesuits and the two women. After a prayer service, we entered the post, placed a white cross with photos of the eight martyrs at the entrance to the School of the Americas, and poured blood in one of the school's main halls. We wanted to impress on our country that we cannot wash our hands of the blood of inno-cent people killed in E1 Salvador by soldiers trained in the United States. We were arrested and tried. A jury found us guilty of dam- '506 Review for Religious aging government property. The Liteky brothers received six-month sentences, and I received sixteen months because of my previous conviction at Fort Benning in 1983. "Was it worth it?" I am often asked by friends and critics alike. Prison is hard and very lonely at times, even with the support of family and friends, who also suffer. My dad cried when I called home to tell him of my sentenc-ing. Yet I feel I did what my faith and the poor called me to do in the face of such violence, death, and suffering. As a Christian I feel I must try to relieve the suffering of the poor and integrate my faith in a loving God with action. It is indeed tragic what our silence did to the people of E1 Salvador over the past twelve years as our po!iticians fun-neled billions of dollars (hard-earned tax money) to a military regime that killed thousands of innocent people. ~ The recent peace accords in E1 Salvador now bring new hope, and it is a time for rebuilding after all the death and destruction. It is also a time for the hundreds of Salvadoran soldiers who continue their training at Fort Benning to go home--along with the troops from Guatemala, Honduras, Venezuela, Peru, Chile, Colombia, Bolivia, and other Latin American countries. I am convinced that we can relieve some of the suffering of the poor in Latin America by closing down the School of the Americas. It is a school of terror and should be shut down. While I am in prison, friends in Georgi~ are carrying on the peace-and-justice work. To learn more about our efforts, write to School of the Americas Watch; P.O. Box 3330; Columbus, Georgia 31903. Archbishop Romero said, "We who have a voice must speak for the voiceless." I pray and hope that we will speak clearly and boldly. As a Christian I feel I must try to relieve the suffering of the poor and integrate my faith in a loving God with action. j~dy-August 1992 507 M. GERARD NWAGWU Women Religious and the African Synod inculturating Following the initial enthusiasm with which our people welcomed Pope John Paul II's announcement of a special assembly for Africa of the Synod of Bishops,l an accom-modating attitude of tolerance for whatever might result from the event seems to have settled in. In such a frame of mind, any document coming from the synod will proba-bly be treated like any other Vatican document---it will be gratefully accepted and respectfully mentioned, but lit-tle else will follow. If, however, the document were to grow out of our experiences and be developed from our contributions, then its contents would have a better chance of being well received and more fully observed. The introductory chapter to the Lineamenta2 speaks of the period of preparation and celebration of the synod as the "tempus acceptabile," the favorable hour, the hour of Africa. This is the hour we have all waited for. It offers us a unique opportunity to bring about some of the changes and modifications religious life in Africa needs. It is a time for religious women in Africa to state our vision of commitment and involvement. This favorable hour con-tinues until the synod is actually celebrated and concluded, As part of this process it is important for us to raise issues and speak out about the problems that women religious encounter as they try to contribute to the work of evan-gelization in Africa. Indeed, for Africans this synod truly M. Gerard Nwagwu does much of her teaching at the Catholic Institute of West Africa; P.O. Box 499; Port Harcourt, Nigeria. 508 Review for Religious promises to be a "third Vatican Council" in what it could accom-plish for us. Consequently the initial period of intense preparation needs to be followed by a continued interest in the synod that fosters a receptive disposition of willingness to adopt its directives. The next generation of religious is likely to question how we made use of this opportunity, criticizing chances wasted and applauding those utilized. The older generation in their turn will be less critical insofar as they have never experienced such an event during their active days and therefore cannot be blamed for not effecting changes. Our contemporaries themselves could point accusing fingers at us if, for all our ideals and foresight, we achie~ced nothing when the circumstances were most opportune. Accepting facts as they are can be a mark of virtue on occa-sion. However, if we were to do that in the present situation, it would indicate complacency and inertia exactly when the action of working toward objectives that will benefit our people is demanded of us. Accepting the status quo just when the church calls us to make a move could indicate a cowardice and portray a fear of "launching out into the deep waters and laying out the nets for a catch," as Christ challenged the Apostles to do at a point when all hope seemed lost.3 We need an openness among ourselves to help us discover our weaknesses, our duties, and our obligations of evangelization--duties that the Code of Canon Law itself demands of religious in canons 211 and 758. Aware of these challenges, we can begin searching for an effective strategy. The Lineamenta presents a good number and variety of themes for our consideration. In any of these themes, the African reli-gious woman-has a role to play, not simply because she is an African or works in Africa, but because her religious life is directly intertwined with the life of the church. Vatican II witnessed to the fact that at no time in history has the church lacked some form of religious life.4 Religious life, in other words, is a con-stant and inseparable feature of the church. This universally his-toric fact is no different on African soil. However, it would take us too far afield to dwell on all of'the proposed themes as they relate to women religious in general. Rather let us consider those that focus strictly on the life of women religious in Africa, their apostolates, and their relationship with the world around them. Presently, most of the countries in Africa have celebrated the centenary of the arrival of the early Catholic missionaries. The few July-August 1992 509 Nwag-wu ¯ Women Religious and the African Synod who have not will do so in the near future. Mmost everywhere the native indigenous clergy have assumed the direction of the particular churches, on both the diocesan and parish levels. Unfortunately the same cannot be said for all congregations of religious women in Africa.5 These factors and others highlight the growth of the church in Africa. Specifically, religious institutes are not left behind in the development. The momentous rise in the number of vocations to the religious life, especially in women's congregations, attests to this growth. Indeed the problem for many religious commu-nities is not so much trying to attract candidates but finding ways of adequately training and forming them in the spiritual and apos-tolic life. It is no wonder that foreign religious institutes endeavor to recruit girls from Africa to fill up their depleted ranks. Such recruiting, however, has been limited and conditioned by the authorities since it has often left a trail of disillusioned women who believed they were sent abroad for further studies, only to find that they were meant to supply domestic services. Though the road remains open for taking candidates abroad, yet some condi-tions must be fulfilled.6 The obvious growth of the church in Africa is one of the "signs of the times" that determine the form evangelization should assume in our midst. The evangelization that starts first with inte-rior conversion of hearts, matures to a personal witness of life, and finally develops into external commitments and service is the type that best suits the vocation of religious women. Before evan-gelizing others we must evangelize ourselves, for only after we have been converted can we support those around us.7 We shall be witnesses, yes, but only after an interior transformation of heart. Through such an authentic witness of the life of the evan-gelical counsels, we can make our own contribution to the new stage of evangelization required in Africa. With regard to reli-gious life, this first stage of evangelization involVes modeling to our people the values of total dedication and consecration to God with a hope of evoking a corresponding response from young women and men to embrace religious life. The second stage of renewed evangelization which suits our time is that of deepen-ing the faith of those who already believe and are baptized, We are already experiencing an influx of vocations, but how deep is their faith, how reliable is their commitment? Religious women, particularly, must ask probing questions, 510 Review for Religious admit the facts, and make worthwhile proposals. The point at issue is whether we realize that the effective contribution of women religious in the evangelization of Africa depends first on the genuine and generous commitments of our communities and second on the spiritual and apostolic formation we give our younger members. The vitality of religious life in Africa depends on these elements and on its being a true witness of the presence and love of God among our people. Such an objective compels us to examine some of the negative currents that undermine our abil-ity to evangelize our people in the manner referred to above. Primary among the negative currents is the wind of secularism that has blown through the world from the 1980s to the present day and has begun to register its presence in Africa. Some see it as materialism, others as atheistic humanism. Secularism, as Pope Paul VI has pointed out, views the world as entirely self-explanatory without any reference to God, who thus becomes unnecessary and is, as it were, an embarrassment. Secularism of this kind seeks to assert the power of humankind and leads to a situation in which God is ignored and denied.8 An allied expression is secularization. Where secularism is a theory and an ideology leading to denial of God, secularization is, instead, the fact and reality of experiencing life with a secular-ized mentality and attitude--that is, evaluating life from a worldly point of view. This, then, is the new form of atheism by which God is perceived to be less present, less necessary, less capable of providing a valid explanation of personal or social life experi-ences. In its undiluted form, secularization should not find a stronghold in Africa, given the characteristic spiritual vision of life within an African society wherein the divine permeates all aspects of life. However, what has invaded this sense of the sacred is the aftermath of secularization, revealed in such characteristics as superficiality, the desire for power and domination over others, autonomy and individualism, and a pleasure-loving orientation. Within our religious circles, when we lack an original experience of God and consequently fail to lead others to a similar experience, the evangelical counsels are confused or glossed over in various attempts to describe, them. We shall be witnesses only after an interior transformation of heart. j-~uly-August 1992 511 Nwag~u ¯ Women Religious and the African Synod Poverty is explained away in the tendency to acquire and accu-mulate in the name of the congregation; chastity in the necessity of having the comfort, convenience, and satisfaction of personal fulfillment; obedience in the assertion of autonomy and individ-uality as marks of our uniqueness and originality. In the maze of such ambiguity, the question for religious women to answer is whether at the present stage of their religious experience they can lay claim to preserving in full the religious sense and charac-ter of their consecration. Where secularization has made its mark, it is difficult to be a witness of the Gospel message. Secularism holds out to us the values of the world and urges us to conform; the Gospel offers us the mind and values of Christ. If we examine our situation and find out that our choices are secular in character, it is important for us to admit it, and so be able to discover what strategy to adopt con-cerning it. The type of choices we make and the attitudes we have clearly show whether we are evangelized at heart or not. On a secondary level the way we treat each other and the interpersonal regard we nurture in our communities would truly show if the Gospel values were operating among us. For when we continue to make discriminatory preferences between persons or congregations, then our witnessing cannot be anything but counterproductive to the task of evangelization. When we are carrying out a common objective, what should matter is the appre-ciation of a sister as a religious and the virtues she possesses for her to be entrusted with an undertaking which she will accomplish in the name of all, not whether she is a member of one congre-gation rather than another, or whether she has occupied a position of importance in her institute, or whether she has important con-nections, and so forth. Evangelizing witness on the community level is likely to be rendered nugatory as ~vell if, instead of the communion and unity which religious life signifies, we have the division and disunity of uncoordinated activity. The difficulties occasioned by lack of cooperation and coordination are most often seen between dif-ferent congregations rather than between members of the same institute. How often have we witnessed the complaints and dis-enchantment of institutes whose services are unceremoniously terminated in a place in favor of another institute--especially when the institute that takes up the apostolate in question may be completely ignorant of how the first institute left the scene! Such 512 Review for Religious a practice is exploitive and appears to be based on the availability of women religious. Apart from the circumstance related above in which two con-gregations of religious women are made to be victims at the same time, division of opinion among institutes is certainly a question that needs to be considered if the challenges of our times are to be adequately addressed. The church regards women religious as experts in communion both because of the communitarian quality of our consecration and because of our natural tendency to bond ourselves closely to oth-ers. Our best field of operation, therefore, is to work for unity and communion within our African church in all its various components. Women have a great capacity for personal adaptation in the face of the varied and often unexpected needs of the real life of societies and churches. We are thus often in a better position to ensure not merely the survival but even the development of evangelization.9 A determination to form deeper and stronger bonds of solidarity and sharing between our various institutes is the best way to confront the changing political, economic, and social conditions of our times. Such operative and meaningful solidarity will happen if various congregations are able to evolve while each institute retains its unique identity and character. As Pope Paul VI told us,'° we are missionaries to ourselves at this stage of the evangelization of Africa. We Africans are cat-echizing and witnessing t6 our own people in our home missions. We are also undertaking the evangelization of other African coun-tries outside our homeland--not overlooking, of course, the invaluable assistance offered by our foreign missionaries. Taking into account the greater number of women .religious, these foreign missions are mostly operated by religious sisters. We must ask ourselves, therefore, whether there exists a corresponding mis-sionary cooperation between the various religious congregations whose members labor on these foreign missions, or whether mis-sionaries carry along with them to the missions the lack of coop-eration and perhaps rivalry which possibly exists at home. We need to remember the call of John Paul II as he spoke about the problems facing evangelization in Africa: secularization has made its mark, it is difficult to be a witness of the Gospel message. July-August 1992 513 Nwagcvu ¯ Women Religious and the African Synod Let all form one unity. Let everything be done to smooth and multiply the ways of mutual esteem, of fraternity, of collaboration. May anything that might be the cause of suf-ferings or casting aside, for one group or another, be ban-ished! May all be penetrated with sentiments of humility and of mutual service! For Christ! For the witness of the church! For the progress of evangelization!'~ With a unified front, we religious could more easily discover new approaches to problems that arise in the apostolate. These problems include the challenge of Islam and the determination of Muslims to spread the Koran from coast to coast by whatever means available. Carrying arms and matching violence with vio-lence is definitely not what the church expects religious women to accomplish in this regard. Neither is it possible to close our eyes and imagine that the friction and conflict with Muslims will even-tually ease off while we do nothing. We must, however, evaluate our strength and discover unobtrusive ways to reduce the threat of Islam for our people. In the face of such an offensive, the church has in the past usually adopted the practice of intensified prayer and a rigorous asceticism lived with generous hearts. Some apostolic religious institutes were founded to labor in countries of Islamic faith. But there are relatively few, if any, contemplative orders founded exclusively for the propagation of faith among Muslims. Such contemplative orders, which by their i~rayers, works of penance, and sacrifices labor to effect the conversion of souls, are crucial for the growth of Christian faith amidst the increased onslaught of Islamic hostility. It would be a welcome endeavor if the tendency our religious folk have to found new religious institutes is allowed to mature into communities that will pitch their tents among the Muslims of our country despite foreseeable opposition and even death. If such an inspiration of the Spirit were to happen, it would cer-tainly respond to the needs of the times. The challenge of Islam requires a radical religious decision. It calls for active institutes to reawaken their consciousness of the value and practice of the con-templative dimension of religious life. The Sacred Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes exhorts: The contemplative dimension is the real secret of renewal for every religious life. Being a reality of grace, it preserves in the religious the commitment to bear witness before the world to the primacy of a personal relationship with God. They can thus avoid the constant danger for apostolic work- 514 Review for Religious ers who often become so much involved in their work for the Lord as to forget the Lord ofalI work,~z Another area of concern is the proliferation of sects and evan-gelical movements. The increase in their adherents means that some other churches--the traditional Christian churches includ-ing the Catholic Church--are losing members. The sects usually direct their proselytizing toward those who are already Christians and offer them what they apparently cannot get from their mother churches. Again Paul VI sounded the alarm when he noted: It is well known that in some places the church in Africa runs the risk of the fidelity of its sons and daughters being subjected to dangers and struggles, and to being tempted by false teaching. Indeed, Christian faith must become some-thing interior like a personal possession of each individ-ual.' 3 In the face of such phenomena, congregations of women reli-gious can be of immense help to the church if they include this ground among their fields of apostolate for the second stage of evangelizing Africa. By identifying the reasons Christians are attracted to these sects and the group of Catholics that are easily influenced by them, they can develop a strategy for deepening the faith of those most affected. Often a shallow faith, which offers no reply to the vital questions of suffering and pain, poverty and misery, doubts and fears, insecurity and emptiness, sickness and death and so forth, is quickly abandoned for what seems a better way out of problems. Such defections occur where people seek a church that'proffers some human warmth and mutual con-cern, an experience the larger churches cannot easily provide.'4 Even if religious themselves do not minister directly to the sects and their adherents, they can train the Christian laity to assume their role of searching out and reevangelizing their brethren. Similarly, it is important to examine the variety of means of social communications available in order to determine the ones best suited for evangelization in Africa today. Every institute is able to evaluate the effect of each of the means on individual members and on the community. For while it is necessary to know what the world around us is saying through the media, we must not allow it to monopolize our attention and dictate our conver-sational exchanges. Growth in religious commitment does not follow from an indiscriminate and sometimes imprudent use of the mass media, or with the exaggerated and extroverted activism the 3~uly-August 1992 515 Nwag-wu ¯ Women Religious and the African Synod media can generate, or with an atmosphere of dissipation which contradicts the deepest expectations of religious life. The search for intimacy with God needs silence, never involving noise and confusion.~s Presently, however, our discussion on the media is not how much we adopt them in our communities, but how well we use them for evangelization. Since the various means are each an effi-cacious tool for communication, the message of faith can be divulged to millions of our people at the same time with their aid. What prevents us, for example, from publishing a magazine that focuses on African religious life? Other Christian groups take the lead in the use of media while Catholics lag behind. Sacred songs and music on the thousands of audiocassettes that flood the market are ahnost always produced by Protestant evangelical groups. In the past there used to be a festival of the arts for Catholic schools. Now the competitions organized for parish choirs do not seem to generate the same interest. When an institute chooses to engage some of its members in apostolates using more contemporary methodologies, the initial difficulty will be lack of trained personnel. Requisite educational competence is important; however, some religious superiors are reluctant to send sisters for further studies that take time to com-plete and cause financial constraint, especially in the face of past disappointments. All the same, such reservation should give way before the conditions of our times and the needs of the church, which demand specialized training in some fields of study. No field of study can be superfluous if it furthers the mission of the institute. And since evangelization is a common mission for all, then adequate preparation is necessary for its realization. We cannot meet our contemporaries handicapped. For priests and religious to grow in requisite skills and maturity, it is essen-tial for them to receive the type of formation usually done in cen-ters of study at the university level or in institutes of higher studies. Specialized studies undertaken by religious should be prompted not by a misdirected desire for self-fulfillment with a view to achieving personal ends, but with the sole intention of meeting the apostolic commitments of the religious family itself in the context of the needs of the church.16 In view of the renewed call to evangelize, some significant changes may have to be made in the initial stages of formation. This sensitive area touches the autonomy and identity of insti- 516 Review for Religious tutes. Nevertheless, some general criteria may be adopted on the intercongregational level while the exact details can be left to the creativity of each institute. A rereading of the conciliar guide-lines for renewal shows that there is no question of simple adap-tations of certain external forms such as the habit. There is question, rather, of a deep edu-cation in attitude and in lifestyle that makes it possible to remain true to oneself even in the new forms of being present--a presence as con-secrated persons who seek the full conversion of people and of society to the ways of the Gospel through personal witness and service.~7 The challenges presented to religious women by the forthcoming synod will demand prayer, discipline, and sacrifice. It will not be easy to effect changes because part of the pattern of life and action we have grown used to will have to be renounced. Though renun-ciation may be spiritually rewarding, it is never gratifying to the ego. All the same, the changes need be made. The "signs of the times" are ripe and they offer us incentives to renew and revise our pattern of life and to give a preferential treatment to the duty of evangelization. The traditional ministries carried out in hospi-tals, schools, and social centers remain important, but their rel-evance in meeting the people of our times and engaging them in faith encounters has diminished. Women religious who are solidly founded in faith and suffi-ciently prepared and who can use their feminine qualities of devo-tion, refinement, faithfulness, and patience and their great capacity to adapt to the unexpected demands of real life can transform sit-uations which would intimidate others who lacked the weapons of faith and culture. In conclusion, let us remember the call of John Paul II and our obligation to respond to his invitation: We cannot meet our contemporaries handicapped. You have lived a first great stage, an irreversible stage. A new stage is open to you. It is no less an exalted one, even if it necessarily involves new trials, and perhaps the temp-tation of discouragement. It is the stage of perseverance, in which it is necessary to pursue the strengthening of the faith, the conversion in depth of souls and ways of life, so that they will correspond better and better to your sublime Christian vocation.18 July-August 1992 517 Nwag-wu ¯ Women Religious and the African Synod Notes i The exact date for the synod has not been set, but observers do not expect it to take place before 1994 or 1993 at the earliest. ~" Lineamenta, General Secretariat of the Synod of Bishops, Vatican City, 1990. 3 Luke 5:4. 4 Lumen Gentium §44. s Some congregations of women religious still have nonindigenous administrative personnel. 6 This includes the establishment of a local community in the area, which in turn requires.that a diocesan bishop invite the institute in ques-tion to his diocese. 7 Luke 22:32. 8 Paul VI, Evangelii Nuntiandi, §55. 9 Sacred Congregation for the Evangelization of Peoples, Dans le Cadre, The Role of Women in Evangelization, in Vatican Council H Postconciliar Documents, vol. 2, p. 322. l0 Paul VI, Inaugural Session of SECAM, Kampala, 1969. llJohn Paul II, Address to Zairean Bishops 3 May 1980, in Origins 10, no. 1, p. 6. 12 SCRIS, La Plenaria, The Contemplative Dimension of Religious Life, January 1980, §§ 2, 4, and 30. 13 Paul VI, Address at the 4th Plenary Assembly of SECAM, September 1975. 14 Paul V-I, Evangelii Nuntiandi, §58. is SCRIS, La Plenaria, §14. 16 SCRIS, Mutuae Relationes, §31 and §26. ~7 SCRIS, La Scelte Evangeliche, On Religious and Human Development, January 1981, §32. is John Paul II, Address to Priests and Religious, Zaire, 1980. 518 Review for Religious JENNIFER MARY ALT Rerooting Religi ous Life in South Africa the dialogue has been to develop a religious-life spirituality that would be less foreign and more of a special flowering and inter-pretation of African human and spiritual values. These values encompass all of human life. The spiritual is never seen as apart from the material, and people are seen as depending on other people, and therefore on the Divine, for life and meaning. Outside of their social relationships, individuals are less than nothing. If religious life became better integrated with native African spiri-tual values, it would witness more clearly and bring greater hope to South Africa's strife-torn people. Religious life is not foreign to Africa. In fact, its cradle is to be found in North Africa in the early centuries of Christianity. Organized religious life took its conception from the life and work of the Desert Fathers and was rooted in the form of Christianity found among the rural tribal people of North Africa. This rural tribal Christian expression was eventually declared heretical and has since been known as the Donatist heresy.- St. Augustine, the well-known urban African, a man cut off from his Jennifer Mary Alt OP, a member of the Cabra Dominican Sisters, is director of the Catholic Centre for Spiritual Growth sponsored by the Southern African Catholic Bishops Conference. With her doctoral research in cross-cultural personality studies, she has worked with religious in developing an African religious spirituality. She may be addressed at the Catholic Centre for Human and Spiritual Growth; P.O. Box 53 505; Troyeville (JHB); 2139 South Africa. ~uly-August 1992 519 Alt . .Re~roo~ng Religious Life cultural roots, was chiefly responsible for the suppression of the Donatists. Early North African Christianity was predominantly rural. These rural Christians had been formed by their own primal reli-gion. This religion revolved around being in harmony with the spiritual in life. The Ancestors--important good people who had died and who then lived on in spirit in the living--were seen as important mediators of the spiritual. Life among humans was seen as essentially social, and people got their meaning and pur-pose from living and working in harmony with other people. To be in a group was part of life. Over fifteen hundred years separate us from these earlier times, and Africa south of the Sahara is in a different position today. Yet it too moves from a very strong primal religious back-ground. In parts of Africa, for instance South Africa, much of the primal past has disappeared, but the beauty of its spirit remains. Unless one pays attention to it, one will find it difficult to under-stand the modern movements in religious life in Africa. A primal outlook on life in terms of human values is'a profound way of looking at it. The work of the Divine is easily seen in it. The connectedness between this outlook and the teachings of Jesus is easy to recognize. Unfortunately, modern religious life has been presented in Africa south of the Sahara as something foreign and Western, as something that has nothing to do with African values. In fact, African values had to be somehow discarded as one entered a reli-gious order. Westerners find the intricacies of life in Africa very difficult to understand and, without ill will, have misjudged much of what they saw, dismissing it as primitive and pagan. It is exceedingly important for people entering religious life to realize the continuity between the values they were given in their families and the values outlined in their religious rule. African religious largely see religious life as divorced from their past, as something quite other. They see the rules and regula-tions of religious living as something totally new which has to be learned. Because of this the rules of religious life remain largely outside of them. The rules have little effect on their feelings and attitudes. The result is that religious life tends to lose its mean-ing and become more a drudgery than a life-giving program. There is a saying which is practically ubiquitous in Africa. It runs in South Africa: "People are made people through other 520 Review for Religious people." In Swahili a similar saying is: "I am, you are, and because you are, I am." This circular statement sums up the insight which Africans have about people depending on one another and the insight that without people the individual is nothing. This aware-ness of dependence and interdependence is a far cry from the individualism of the modern. Western outlook. Dependence on God is the source of all spir-ituality and is clearly discernible in the African outlook. Africa has a strong belief in the spiri-tual life. Death is seen not so much as an ending, but as a passing into a spiritual way of being. In Africa everything material has its spiritual equiv-alent. In fact, nothing exists without its spirit. It follows that religious life is seen as essentially for the purpose of bringing people into contact with the Divine in a special way. If this does not happen, then religious life for the individual tends to remain on a material and self-centered level. The religious vocation is a call to a special relationship with the spiritual realm. Religious with their vows of chastity, poverty, and obedience are marked as essentially different from others, for they are in a sense outside the primal group of family, clan, and nation. They live in an area of liminality in life and in this area make contact with the Divine. Everywhere in Africa the call to the spiritual is treated with great respect and reverence. The call is seen as mysterious and very important. It is not questioned. Take, for example, persons who discern that they are called to be a sangorna, to be one who understands the relationship between the material and the Divine and who is specially equipped to interpret rifts that occur between the human and the Divine, rifts that are seen as the cause of all mental and physical illness. Such calls will not be dismissed lightly, and people will undergo rigorous training to equip themselves for their special task as a sangoma. The religious call is seen in this context. It also comes from the Ancestors of the family, and therefore no one should interfere with it. The Ancestors will protect the person so called. Africans believe that when outstanding members of the family or the nation die, they join the living dead. They live on in spirit in another member of the family. As a human being casts a shadow, so each human in the flesh represents the spirit of an Ancestor. A parent 'People are made people through other people.' 3n-uly-Augus~ 1992 521 who first refused to allow a daughter to enter a convent remarked on her behavior: "I was fighting with the Ancestors." In Africa the spiritual revolves around the Ancestors, who mediate the Divine in life. The blessing of the Ancestors needs to be invoked in all circumstances. This ancient method of prayer might seem fundamentalist to a Western person, but it suits many people in the indigenous churches. They invoke God in all cir-cumstances: when getting up in the morning, at the beginning of all jobs--nothing, in fact, is done without prayer to the Ancestors. MI church services center on asking the Ancestors for blessing and healing of any rifts between the living dead and the humans in the flesh. Prayer then centers on the spirit of reverence and respect: through prayer, healing and forgiveness are brought to ordinary human relationships, and rifts with the Ancestors are healed. In this way the negative effects in our lives are resolved, and we become healthy again. Religious in this context are people who are especially moved by the spirit, in a charismatic sense. Prayer then is warm, spon-taneous, and real. But if religious life is seen by Africans as a bureaucratic organization in which material advantages follow the keeping of the rules, even though many of the rules may cen-ter on saying prayers; then it remains outside the person and will not lead to a true conversion of heart. Young people who enter often see a religious house as a house protected by God. They see religious as being protected by God, and the convent as a place of shelter from the storms of life; God will protect the people whom he has called. Many young people enter to be protected from the violence in the streets. Young girls come to escape being raped. Parents send children to convents in order to prevent .them from joining gangs. As people turn to sangomas (the spiritual healers) to protect themselves from the chaos around them, so they send their young girls to convents for the same protection. They feel that no evil can enter a reli-gious house. They also feel that God protects his religious from economic disaster. Young people and their parents see religious houses as places where people will be educated, fed, and housed; as places where the chaos of grinding poverty and ignorance will be kept at bay. Religious will be protected from thes~ material disasters. It is essential in these circumstances to help young people, through self-reflection, to an acceptance of their African values in 522 Review for Religious the light of the Gospel values. This helps to bring about a con-version of heart in which the person is moved to choose Jesus and break out into the wider world of other people and their needs. Young persons, in answering their call, answer it on behalf of their entire family and the Ancestors whom they embody in their life. Therefore, when young people join a religious order, they do not come as mere individuals with little significance. They come as deserving of great respect. They are not alienated people of no back-ground. They are not nobodies. God calls people through an entire network of relationships. Young religious who respond are responsible, therefore, for answering the call of the entire network. This gives the religious a great sense of sup-port and responsibility. To know that one bears the spirit of a beloved grandmother or grandfa-ther in one's life makes the path less precarious, less lonely, and more meaningful. Second, it gives the religious a great sense of dignity and worth. Religious need to respect their own call, and others must respect it too. Without this sense of reverence and respect, the young reli-gious fails to have any sense of liminality. Religious life then becomes more a question of obeying external laws which do not touch the heart and of obtaining an education. Instead of reli-gious life being a development or an exploration of the spiritual, it can become monotonous and meaningless. When the crises come, as come they must, the religious will not choose Jesus, but will make an easier, more selfish choice. A common saying in Africa expresses this lack of conviction and choice: "That person is a Christian by day and an African by night!" A difficulty inherent in the above outlook arises when a reli-gious wishes to leave the convent. Leaving is looked upon as a disaster: the religious loses her ties with God. Her relationship with him is broken. It is in the light of this broken relationship that all future troubles will be judged. The following example is typical: A young'sister left a religious congregation and then failed to pass her nursing examination. She moved to teaching and was equally unsuccessful. This was seen to be the result of leaving the convent, not the result of lack of sufficient talent. It is important to stress, therefore, that the divine call arises out of our baptismal God calls people through an entire network of relationships. j~ly-August 1992 523 Alt . Rerootin Reli "ous Life call. It is this call that must be answered, whether it is lived out in the context of religious life or not. In Africa, to be in a group is part of life. The richness of the human exchange in a community enriches the individual. The individual who is not included in this exchange is drained of life, so to speak. Group living is full of all that is human. Contentment, excitement, joy, happiness, and security are part of that living as are tensions, fears, suspicions, and disharmony. But the underly-ing attitudes of loyalty and respect can keep a group together through major emotional upheavals. In Africa, people truly live community. In the West, people tend to theorize and talk about community, but find it difficult to live it. Both lifestyles have their problems. In Africa, people are meant to live in harmony with one another and with the Ancestors. The individual is meant to enrich the lives of others and to be enriched in return. A religious group thatis not living a life filled With the Spirit will tend to exhibit the spirits of discord and chaos. In such close-knit and complex living together, the individual can feel very vul-nerable. Fear of one another, fear of authority figures, is a natural component of such living. Unless the group is living in the Spirit, fear instead of acceptance and warmth can dominate the group. Community life is held back by fear. Individuals will keep quiet at community meetings, for example. Many opinions which could build up a community are not stated. This can lead to seri-ous mistakes being made. Superiors can go unchallenged and do irresponsible things. Individuals who choose to live a life which is not in accordance with their vows are also left unchallenged because others are afraid to say anything. Those who have this fear feel humiliated and inferior; they grow depressed; in the end, tension shows itself as an illness. Such fear of disharmony, of expressing conflicting opinions, can cause great problems to social and group life in Africa. If disharmony and conflicts arise, the group tends to split and quickly polarize. This process is very evident in the histories of many of the African Independent Churches. African political leaders have generally chosen a one-party style of government in order to avoid disharmony. In so doing they have introduced a totalitarian system which in practice is marked by tribalism and greed. Modern urban societies demand that we learn to live with some disharmony and difference of opinion. In fact, differences of opin- 524 Review.for Religious ion can lead to positive growth, for without differences adaptation to changing times and circumstances cannot take place. In Africa the method of handling differences is for the entire group to°come together and to discuss fully the pros and cons of the different opinions. In these long conversations each person is listened to, and the conversation does not end until consensus is reached. This is like methods of conflict management in the West. The Gospel message of Jesus enhances and brings to fruition the message which Africa can give our world in terms of the interdependence of humans and their dependence on the Divine. The message of Jesus is close to the heart of the African experience of human living together. The message of the great religious founders like St. Benedict finds spontaneous resonance in Africa. The message of religious life, which strives to express the values of the Gospel of Jesus, is not much different from African value systems. The message of Jesus helps people choose less selfish values. In Africa, choices are made according to how a person feels. They tend to be made in terms of present time. A person might, there-fore, at one time choose some abstract Christian value and at another time choose against the same value. But people who are moved by the Spirit choose more responsibly. For instance, peo-ple might not feel like helping when help is needed, but if they are filled with the Spirit, they will go against that feeling and help nevertheless. Or, again, people may feel like getting revenge by not sharing, but if they are filled with the Spirit, they will share. The transcendent message of Jesus helps people to consider beyond this present moment. Christians need to think about the consequences of present actions: Would the future be better, more Christian, as a result of choices we might make now? Often enough, thoughtless pragmatic choices can bring immediate sat-isfaction in terms of money, goods, or pleasant feelings, but the long-term effects of these choices can be extremly destructive. Africa is full of examples of people who pragmatically and selfishly participated in their own destruction. Africans took part in the slave trade. African leaders have greedily plotted the economic ruin of the countries they govern. Tribal rural people have taken The message of Jesus is close to the heart of the African experience of human living together. AI~ o R~'ng Reli ~ou~ monetary handouts from the West, which have led to the destruc-tion of their way of life and to a dependency on further hand-outs. Other cultures can be less utilitarian and selfish by taking their heritage very seriously and protecting it. The Chinese, .Japanese, and Indians have not allowed Western materialism and individualism free access into their cultures, and they have been less enthusiastic in terms of cooperating with the West. Africa can be rather like Esau, who sold his birthright for a mess of pot-tage, because Africa does not appreciate the richness of its social and spiritual heritage for itself and for the world. The message of.jesus builds deeper trust. Christ has through his death and resurrection conquered death and despair. He is above all spirits. He is above all ancestors. There is no need for Christians to fear curses or sangomas or their neighbor. Life for Christians is secure because .jesus has already overcome the spirit of death and chaos. .Jesus speaks a message of love of one's neighbor and of one's enemy. Christians have to consider people who do not belong to their group or clan as nevertheless belonging to the family of .Jesus. Such "outsiders" are not objects, and they must be treated with love and respect. In this way the Christian message brings peace to the troubled area of ethnic and tribal violence--some-thing which has brought misery and death to many millions in Africa and has impoverished whole nations of people. If Christ's message is allowed to bring to fruition the values which the African people received from-God through the Ancestors, much that is unauthentic can be removed from African life even as its contact with the West increases. 526 Review for Religious ALBERT DI IANNI Religious Life and Religion Some recent discussions on "refounding" religious life in which I participated were passionate and at times ended in discord. Admittedly the groups involved were tired and overworked, but this was not the whole explanation. The heat manifested in exchanges about potential cures for the ills of contemporary religious life springs from a deeper source, from a basic disagreement about the nature of Christianity and of religion. When I first encountered the notion of"refounding" currently in vogue, I welcomed it as an improvement over "renewal" because it seemed to demand a deeper conver-sion and a more radical rebuilding. It brought to mind the Carmelite reform at the hands of Teresa of Avila and John of the Cross through an inventive retrieval of the spirit and discipline of the founders. Refounding seemed to invite us to set out once again upon a religious adven-ture demanding both great sacrifice and an engagement with the world that remained in some way separate from the world. Resistance to the notion mounted, however, with the repeated calls to identify "change agents" in the group who might encourage creativity in ministry and develop alternative community lifestyles. The more speakers lim-ited their discussions to talk about "delivery systems" for Albert DiIanni SM serves as vicar general of the Society of Mary (Marist). His address is Via Messandro Poerio 63; 00152 Rome; Italy. living religiously ~-uly-dug~_st 1992 527 Dilanni ¯ Religious Life and Religion change, namely, leadership models derived from anthropology and from corporate-reflection techniques borrowed from busi-ness psychology--the more they discussed only means--the more I felt I was being bundled down some primrose path. Before I discuss means, I want to discuss goals; before I accept help to move forward, I want to determine where I, where we, should want to go. This is possibly because I suspect that I do not want to go where some speakers want to lead me or that their advice about means carries some hidden freight about goals with which I do not concur. In a recent conversation about refounding, I found myself suddenly compelled to ask some strange, basic questions, not about religious life but about religion: What, for you, constitutes the heart of the Christian religion? What is its basic meaning or purpose? What engenders religion in the first place? Such ques-tions came to mind because I suddenly realized that our dis-agreement lay at a deep level, that we could not simply assume we would all answer such fundamental questions in the same way. This was not because anyone had expressly denied any belief which I held, but becaus{ they seemed to deflect or sidestep cer-tain ideas as old-fashioned or not in line with the particular action steps being recommended. The urge to ask fundamental questions comes upon me espe-cially when I sense that religion is being reduced to sociology, psychology, or even to morality, be it personal, social, or ecolog-ical morality. In fact, any tendency to reduce religion to morality fires me up more than sociological or psychological reductions because it is more subtle and plausible and thus more seductive. But let me put my own cards on the table. What do I believe is at the heart of the Christian religion? (I will ignore the eso-teric distinction drawn by some between faith and religion and the theory that Christianity is not a religion but.a faith.) Though Christianity like other religions is an amalgam of many compo-nents, I believe that its strictly religious aspect lies in its being an answer to the experience of human contingency and the con-tingency of the world. Most people at some time in their lives have felt wonder that the world exists at all and have faced into the void of their own death. They moved beyond the taken-for-grant-edness of the world and became frightened by the thought that nothing at all might have existed and no possibility of anything. They wondered if there were an ultimate meaning to life or if 528 Review for Religious humans were but a sport of nature. Christianity's central doctrine is that the world need not have existed and that it was the object of creation by a good God. A Christian believer is convinced that at the center of the universe is not a surd but a personal Love. The philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein was not a believer. Norman Malcolm, his former student and biographer, says that he could not be called a religious person, but that he was passionately interested in religion and always seemed close to the possibility of religion. Wittgenstein once produced two examples of what he consid-ered bona fide religious experiences as opposed to moral or aesthetic ones. He respected them even if he thought that in entertaining them he was running up against the limits of language. One was the experi-ence of uncanniness that the world exists at all. The second was the conviction he some-times had that, whatever might happen, he would be safe. Neither of these experiences points of necessity to the existence of some transcen- The urge to ask fundamental questions comes upon me when I sense that religion is being reduced to sociology, psychology, or even to morality. dent reality, but they provide, the experiential ground from which many people move to affirm the existence of God. In such feelings and experiences, the affirmation that God exists is existentially grounded, becomes more than an intellectual proposition, takes root, finds a home. The first experience is the sense that a fleet-ing world must be rooted in a stable fundamental Reality. The second bespeaks a trust that cannot be explained without the pres-ence of a loving center of the universe. My own thoughts about religion center on experiences of this type. Admittedly my idea of religion has strong mystical over-tones; it is our response to radical contingency and, in its most primitive and deepest meaning, has little to do with morality. Religion refers primarily to a "holy" space out of which we and the world spring and gives rise to the imperative that each of us become holy, living our life in and for God. Beyond this I know that religion and morality are intimately intertwined and that a religious or holy person must also be morally good. One can hardly be holy and evil. Holiness means in part being extraordinarily kind, socially just, honest, temperate, a ~dy-Augvmt 1992 529 Dilanni ¯ Religious Life and Religion peacemaker. Yet it cannot be reduced to the practice of these moral virtues. For it is conceivable that someone could be morally good, could follow punctiliously the rules of a moral system, fos-ter social justice, be chaste and kind, and yet not be a religious per-son. He or she could be moral out of personal taste, by temperament, for aesthetic reasons, or out of natural sympathy toward others, and not because of his or her relationship to God. Philippa.Foot, an Oxford moral philosopher and avowed atheist, once told a seminar group that she was such a moral person and that she refused to be patronized by being called an "anonymous Christian." A Christian religious person not only acts morally, but also sees the world in a new way--that it is dependent for its very existence on a transcendent reality and that this makes all the dif-ference. Because it is focused upon the transcendent, the Christian vision has specific ethical implications different from Enlighteflment theories which place the human person or freedom at the center of the moral endeavor. For the Christian the pri-mary response to the world is not that of owner and Promethean creator, but of humble and obedient creature; not an entrepreneurial relishing of power and freedom, but a Marian gratitude before God for all that God has wrought. From this Christian gratitude is born the imperative to love God and God's creation, to allow God to express the divine mercy through us, especially toward the weak and the abandoned. This Christian gratitude and its ethical implications are nourished and deepened through a close union with God in prayer. It is this vision, it seems to me, which should be at the heart of the life of consecrated religious. If they are to be prophetic, it is in this: that in their lives they point constantly to the tran-scendent moment of the universe and try to develop what it means. It is up to each group to decide how it will express this. Christian meaning exists in--and is to be found in--religious sis-ters, brothers, and priests when they are rapt in contemplation of God as well as when they are picking up dying persons from the streets. When people see one of them unremittingly engaged in both, they believe they are in the presence of a saint. Some contemporary Catholic lay people and members of reli-gious congregations seem to have lost sight of the transcendent pole of Christianity. Their model of Christianity has become what Charles Davis labels "pragmatic." The pragmatic version of 530 Review for Religious Christianity arose, he says, when "the Christian religion ceased to function mythically as an overarching totality . The emphasis therefore shifted to Christianity as a practical way of life or eth-ical system. This is still conceived in religious terms, such as the fatherhood of God and the brotherhood of God's children, the kingdom of righteousness . But all these expressions are different ways of formulating the moral imperatives gov-erning human existence." ~ Both conservatives and liberals have made this pragmatic shift in Christianity. Conservatives stress per-sonal and family morality and such questions as abortion and euthanasia, and progressives stress social justice, ecology, and women's rights. Future historians may judge that the Vatican itself, but to a lesser degree, has been drawn into what I am characterizing as an overemphasis of morality. They may well remember Pope John Paul II as the "morality pope" because of his repeated statements about both per-sonal and social morality. In practice if not in theory, love of neighbor and enemy seem to have taken precedence over con-cern about union with God. Today's heresies all seem to be moral heresies. Not many Catholics seem concerned about dogmas, about trinitarian, soteriological, or Christological errors. And yet the history of the early church reveals that this was not always so. (I am at times tempted to fashion a brand-new trinitarian heresy to spur people to think more about God and less about themselves!) In this excessive emphasis on morality, the modern church reflects our secularized times, the age that mistook the world for God. In the late sixties, a time noted for its air of revolution, our seminary faculty once gathered the seminarians for a discussion on the question: W'hat are the most important qualities for being a priest and religious today? Some suggested approachability, oth-ers learning and competence, still others kindness or some other human virtue. I was surprised that no one spoke of holiness--a sure candidate just ten years before--and I pointed this out to Someone could be morally good, could follow punctiliously the rules of a moral system, foster social justice, be chaste and kind, and yet not be a religious person. ~dy-August 1992 531 Dilanni ¯ Religious Life and Religion the group. One of the seminarians fixed me with a stare and said with an air of disdain: "Just be human, Father!" Recently I had the pleasure of interviewing Kiko ArgOello, the Spanish layman and artist who founded the Neo- Catechumenate movement, which offers a series of steps, a way, for modern Catholics to rediscover their baptism and be com-mitted to evangelization. I played the devil's advocate and asked whether his way (camino) of training lay people over a period of years did not produce an arrogant elite and end up creating more division than unity in parishes. His answer was in strict contrast to the seminarian's. He insisted that becoming a Christian today was not easy, regardless of what many priests trained since Vatican II seemed to believe. It did not suffice to simply shout the love slo-gan. Belief that God exists and that Jesus is in some way the son of God was difficult in a secularized culture. Besides, our world of drugs and violence, suburban adultery and abortion, euthana-sia and consumerism, was full of snares. It would not be suffi-cient simply to limit our preaching to a form of positive reinforcement. People had to be called to a public confession of their belief in God and Jesus, be brought to a felt need for con-version, be tested in their resolve, b~ supported by a tightly knit community, and be nourished by an adequate participative' liturgy. Needed, in his view, was a method, a way, a structure, a catechu-menate, 'to bring people squarely before their baptism and its implications for their lives. In so many words he was saying that it was simplistic for the 1968 seminarian to have said: "Just be human, Father." Yes, Christ is at work in the world wherever human good is being done, and we have to recognize and foster such work wher-ever we find it; but we must be aware, too, that fostering human-istic values and being a Christian are not in every way identical. Besides demanding that we be thoroughly moral, Christianity demands belief in many strange things, like the incarnation, the need for redemption, the resurrection, the presence of Jesus in the Eucharist, and the role of Mary. For a time in my adolescence, I wished I had been brought up neutral vis-~a-vis religion so that at the age of twenty-one I might consider all the major religions and choose among them without the prejudice of early Catholic training or brainwashing. But I know now that this is naive, for I have recognized that young people who have not been brought up in any religion end up by 532 Review for Religious having no religious sentiment or religiosity. They tend to remain religion-neutral, unable to make a choice in favor of any religion. George Lindbeck, a Protestant theologian, believes that, unless some religion is taught to us when we are young, unless we are brought up in some religious prac-tices, we might not even be capable of religious experience. This may be exaggerated, but I am sure it contains a grain of truth. One thing is certain: People are never brought up in a vac-uum of vision and values. If they do not absorb religious vision and val-ues, they absorb the secular vision and religion-neutral values of the movies and television. Especially in Europe several new lay Christian movements and reli-gious orders have been born in full awareness of this: the Focolarini, the Sant' Egidio community, the Neo- Catechumenate, the Lion of Juda, the Legionaries of Christ, and so forth. They all believe that becoming Christian in a secularized world is especially difficult and demands a way, a method, an entry through a kind of Christian subculture. It means leaving behind a lot of things that can seem very important from the world's point of view, but really are not. It demands kenosis, emptying oneself, in preparation for a radical decision in favor of Christ and God. Karl Rahner once declared: "A Christian in today's world will be a mys-tic or else he will not exist." And he went on to speak of mystagogy, the need of a method to lead people to see everything in God. I believe that one reason why religious congregations are in a mere survival situation today is that, in their admirable effort to take a positive view of the world, they have identified religion too strongly with a humanistic morality that tends to be secular-istic, individualistic, and overly egalitarian. History shows that almost all religious congregations enjoyed strong growth at their beginnings. They were exciting and attractive in part because they were new, but part of their attraction lay elsewhere. The early members had a sense of a religious adventure and cause larger than themselves which rendered them willing to forgo many personal rights and privileges.~They were members of what Besides demanding that we be thoroughly moral, Christianity demands belief in many strange things, like the incarnation, the need for redemption, the resurrection. July-August 1992 533 Dilanni ¯ Religious Life and Religion have been called "intentional" communities as opposed to various "associational" and "bureaucratic" ones that have come into exis-tence since Vatican II.2 They were quite unconcerned with self-expression and equality, not because they were naive and subservient (today's caricature), but because they were caught up in a higher religious vision that enhanced and focused their ener-gies for God and the church. Most religious congregations were founded for three main purposes, the salvation of the members, the salvation of others, and dedication to a devotion or a way of the apostolate. Their charism did not lie only in the third element but in all three. Their purposes were decidedly religious and eschatological as well as incarnational. Today the eschatological has been pushed aside by an incarnational theology interpreted too secularistically and humanistically. Transcendent themes have been toned down in favor of an emphasis on egalitarian rights, on a type of justice interpreted not only as equity but as evenness, a kind of unifor-mity without differences. Everyone knows that only in unity is strength. But egalitarianism, by its very definition, effects an atomism and separateness within a group inasmuch as it deems individual rights and desires more important than the group's religious cause and adventure. Such stress upon egalitarian and humanistic ideals is an ide-ology. It is one way--and only one way--of interpreting democ-racy and justice in society and in religious groups. To oppose that ideology is not to give up democracy but to give it another inter-pretation. This was brought home to me recently as I overheard a conversation between an Mnerican priest--a born-again egali-tarian- and a young female member of the lay Sant' Egidio com-munity in Rome.3 Describing how the community functioned, she mentioned that in her particular community, because of its makeup and history, only certain men and no women were asked to speak at the prayer services. The American priest objected that this was a grave error, that it was supremely important--as a sym-bol and sign to others if not for her personally--that women be allowed to preach in every community. She answered that the Sant' Egidio community did not approach questions ideologi-cally, but pragmatically. Some of the other communities did have women preachers, but because of its particular history and tal-ents, her group preferred not to have them and she was happy with things as they were. She explained that for the Sant' Egidio 534 Review for Religious group three things were of paramount importance: (1) prayer together over the word of God, (2) friendship or mutual support, and (3) work for and with the poor. All else must cede before the achievement of these goals. The American priest's voice rose as he insisted that she was wrong and that the American interpretation of women's rights was correct. But she stood her ground and deftly changed the sub-ject. We have come full circle. In the 1960s, after many years of repression and an exaggerated supernaturalism, we needed to stress personal free-dom and responsibility and a true equality among the races and sexes. We had to recognize our duty before God to take responsibility to build up a world of justice and peace. But this did.not mean that such concerns should come to prevail in reli-gious congregations and sweep all else away in their wake. Now that we have seen the shadow side of such emphases in religious life, we can bet-ter take stock and rediscover that our involvement with the world must begin beyond the world. While the psychological and political agendas were very important for religious life, neither of them was the "one thing necessary." Religious life should center upon that in Christianity which relates our lives to the transcendent. It is here that we must seek its prophecy. It is in reminding people of the divine enchant-ment of the world that it must be countercultural. It is upon this that reflection on refounding religious life must insist. In her arti-cle "Religious Life and the Need for Salt,''4 Joan Chittister asks the right questions regarding contemporary religious life. She wisely concludes that the project of encouraging self-expression in traditionally repressed religious has now been achieved. She says we must now move to questions about the group and how it can be prophetic in today's world. But her answers, giving her interpretation of prophecy, are still too much centered on ecology, social assistance, and human rights and thus, by remaining within a pragmatic model of Christianity, seem but another reiteration of the program of liberal politics. These liberal concerns are impor-tant and must be addressed by the church: the laity, the clergy, and the religious. But addressing such issues, in my opinion, is not going to be the salvation of religious life. Its problems do not 'A Christian in today's world will be a mystic or else he will not exist.' .July-August 1992 535 Dilanni ¯ Religious Life and Relig4on arise from a neglect of them. Religious lack, not moral outreach, but religious centering. They fail to realize what the poor them-selves realize and express in their popular religions, that our union with God through Jesus is central, that we must work at it, and that it is primarily in this that we will be countercultural. Which is more countercultural--to say we must strive to save planet earth or to say we truly believe that the dead are with God because Jesus rose from the dead and that this makes all the difference? I have made some hard remarks and asked some hard ques-tions, and I would welcome a dialogue about them. I am sure I have not expressed them adequately, but I am convinced that they contain at least a grain of truth. I am encouraged in uttering them by the swing of young people in both Europe and North America toward an interest in the mystical sense of religion. In the 1960s the young were caught up in the humanistic values of psychol-ogy and sociology, but today's youth exhibit a great interest in mysticism, religious cults and movements, apparitions and heal-ings, the afterlife; and even reincarnation and the satanic. Does this not indicate that they are experiencing a deep void of mean-ing in an anorexic and bulimic world where money, notoriety, power, individualism, and equality have become the primary val-ues? Does not this cultural change signal that secular humanism for all its ethical achievements has also been an impoverishment by reason of a dearth of religious imagination? Is it not a sign of the times when people living in sophisticated technological cul-tures begin to be attracted to religious beliefs interpreted in a most .simplistic fashion? I know the good responses to the distinction I draw within Christianity between morality and religion. Most will describe it as dualistic--for contemporary pundits the most damning of epi-thets. They will say, "You are separating things that are essen-tially linked." Love of God and love of neighbor are two aspects of the same thing. If you do not care for the person you see, how can you say you love the God you do not see? Those who love God should find their love's primary expression in their dedica-tion to caring for their neighbor, whether friend or enemy. Prayer is missionary and missionary activity is prayer--and on and on. Others will say that I give a false description of the present sit-uation of religious life; they will deny that those engaged in social justice and ecology tend to pray less and to be less interested in the transcendent, in sacraments, and in the eschatological. 536 Reviezv for Religious I know these rejoinders are partly true, but also that they are partly false. I know that the two aspects of Christianity, religion and morality, love of God and love of neighbor, are very closely intertwined, and I am aware of Karl Rahner's brilliant attempt to conjoin them.5 But I know too that they are conceptually distinct because I have seen them separated in the history of the church. At times the church has experienced the extreme of quietism, an overem-phasis on faith without good works, and other times the heresy of action, a hectic involvement in important works of justice and charity to the detriment of prayer and interiority, the soul of the apostolate. It is up to each of us to examine our life to determine where we are. But I am convinced that the problems of religious life stem only partly from a lack of adequate delivery systems and from ignorance about psychol-ogy, social systemics, and anthropo-logical models in an age of rapid change. I am convinced that their deeper source lies in the confusion between religion and morality and in an insistence upon moral-ity because of a loss of faith and interest in religion. If Christian religion is centered almost exclusively upon doing the moral good, upon promoting social justice and ecology, or upon fighting pornography and abortion, then what is the mean-ing of doctrines and dogmas? Are they but religious, accouter-ments? If so, why not be honest and simply drop them? What is the meaning of the redemption through Christ for a religion reduced to morality? What is the meaning of the Eucharist? Are these dogmas and sacraments only stimuli for action, stories and symbols subtly swaying us to do what is truly important: foster-ing the construction of a socially just and ecologically sound world, creating the. kingdom of morality? Is the resurrection just a story whose real cash value is all those smaller resurrections which can occur in a society, in history, or in each human life? How is a religious congregation which centers so strongly on morality to be differentiated from such groups as UNICEF or the Which is more countercultural - to say we must strive ~ to save planet earth or to say we truly believe that the dead are with God because Jesus rose from the dead and that this makes all the difference ? ~dy-Augzlst 1992 537 Dilanni ¯ Religious Life and Religion A life steeped in prayer will produce something we may have lost: a solid number of holy men and women whose life clearly is centered on God. FAO wherein men and women devote themselves to humanitarian causes at times for wages far lower than they could obtain else-where? I know that, since Vatican II, theologians including Rahner and Schillebeeckx have highlighted the thesis that Christ is at work in the world wherever good is. being done and humane causes are fostered. I am acquainted with the theories that the work of building up the kingdom of God is primarily a matter of our present life in the world, that salvation is not only after death but begins here, that the glory of God is man and woman fully alive. I am in sympathy with such emphases, but must also admit that they do not set me on fire; and judging from the vocation statistics of "progressive" congregations, I know that they have not stirred the young. For in my heart I suspect that such emphases are quite incomplete and were (in part) born of a loss of faith in the transcendent. For me Christianity centers not on us but on God. It demands a different vision of the world and reality, which generates a humble gratitude to the God who is responsible for all that is. One of Christianity's concerns is our inborn tendency to distort our freedom, arising from what Luther called the "in-curvedness" of our will. Christianity is about God and sin and the need for God's grace-ful hand to help us make proper use of our freedom. Christian religion must be about God and our relationship with God not only implicitly but also explicitly. It is from a union with God in prayer that light will emanate on how we are to relate to God, the world, and each other. And if a life is to be devoted to religion in a special way, if it is to be a consecrated religious life, it must be lived primarily in view of this relationship to God, not only in ideal but also in structure. It must be structured in such a way that the life of,the group abets in its members this concern about each one's relationship to God and gives witness of it to others. Such a life steeped in prayer will produce something we may have lost: a solid number of holy men and women whose life clearly is centered on God. If this proves true, young people will surely again be attracted to this kind of life, not so much because 538 Review for Religious it is relevant or more interesting than the world, but simply because religious life so construed and so lived is what it purports to be--religious. Notes ~ What is Living, What is Dead in Christianity Today? (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1986), p. 39. -' See Patricia Wittberg SC, Creating a Future for Religious Life (New York: Paulist Press, 1991

Issue 49.1 of the Review for Religious, January/February 1990. ; R~\'u!w ~:~R Rt~u~aot!s ( ISSN OO34-639X ) is published bi-monlhly ai St. La~uis University by the Mis-souri Provinc¢ Edu~.'ational Inslilulc of the Soci,.Zly of.lcsus: Editorial Office; 36OI Lind¢ll Blvd. Rm. 4214: St. Louis. MO 63 IOg-3393. S¢cond-class postage2 paid at St. U~uis MO. Single copies $3.50. Subscriptions: United Stal¢.~ $15.00 I'or one .,,'ear: $2g.00 for two years. Olher countries: US $20.00 for on~ .vear~ if airmail. US $35.00 per )'car. For subscription orders or chan~¢ of address. write: Rl~\'ll~\V i:tm R~il.l(i~vs; F'.O. Box riO'70; Duluth. MN 55gO6. POSTMASTER: Send address changes to R~:\'l~:w vor R~:l.~{:l~nls; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. I)avid L. Fleming, S.J. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.,J. ,Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Editor Associate Editor Contrib.ting Editor Advisor\" Board David J. Hassel, S.J. Sean Sammon, F.M.S. Mary Margaret Johanning, S.S.N.D. Wendy Wright, Ph.D. Suzanne Zuercher, O.S.B. Jan.ar\'lFebrttarv 1990 Volume 49 N.mber I Manuscripts, Imoks fiw review and correspondence with the editor sho(dd be sent to w~a R~:u~;~o~s: 361)1 I,indell Blvd.: St. I,ouis. MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the deparlmenl "Canonical Connsel'" should he addressed to Rich-ard A. Hill, S.J.; J.S.°I:B.: 1735 I,eRoy Ave.: Berkeley, CA 94709-1193. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from RF:\'u~w voa RF:L~;~US; 3601 I,indell Blvd.; St. I,ouis, MO 63108-3393. "'O1.11 of prinl" issues are availahle from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.: Ann Arbor. MI 481116, A major portion of each issne is also availahle on cassette recordings as a service for Ihe visually impaired. \\'rile Io the Xavier Sociely hw Ihe Blind; 154 Easl 23rd Street: New York, NY I0010. Review for Religious Volume 49, 1990 Editorial Offices 3601 Lindell Boulevard, Room 428 Saint Louis. Missouri 63108-3393 David L. Fleming, S.J. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Editor Associate Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editors " REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is published in January, March, May, July, Septem-ber, and November on the twentieth of the month. It is indexed in the Catholic Periodical and Literature Index and in Book Review Index. A microfilm edition of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is available from University Mi-crofilms International; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. Copyright© 1990 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. A major portion of each issue of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is also regu-larly available on cassette recordings as a service for the visually im-paired. Write to the Xavier Society for the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY 10010. PRISMS. As we begin our forty-ninth volume, there are some additional names found on our inside cover editorial masthead. Although our readers may be familiar with the members of our Advisory Board from their writings or from conferences or workshops, I want to take this opportunity to intro-duce each one of them. Father David Hassel, S.J., with his doctorate in philosophy from St. Louis University, has taught university courses in the philosophy of hu-man nature, God, Augustine, and secularization for twenty-seven years. He has written four books on prayer (Paulist Press) and two on Chris-tian philosophy of education and of love (Loyola University Press), along with some nine articles for REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. He currently is a writer-in- residence at Loyola University in Chicago, Illinois. Sister Mary Margaret Johanning, S.S.N.D., is presently chancellor of the Jefferson City, Missouri diocese. From 1977 to 1987, she served in Rome as general superior of the School Sisters of Notre Dame, and from 1971 to 1977 as provincial councilor of the St. Louis province. With her doctorate in theology from Marquette University, she has lec-tured on topics of theology and spirituality, and has been involved in giv-ing retreats and spiritual direction. Brother Sean D. Sammon, F.M.S., is provincial of the Poughkeep-sie Province of the Marist Brothers and also serves as president of the Conference of Major Superiors of Men. He worked for nine years at the House of Affirmation, serving most recently as Clinical Director. With three books and a number of articles published, his most recent contri-bution is Alcoholism's Children: ACoAs in Priesthood and Religious Life (Alba House). With his doctorate in psychology from Fordham Univer-sity, he lectures on topics of adult development among religious and priests, sexuality and intimacy, and addictive behavior. Wendy M. Wright, with her doctorate in theology from the Gradu-ate Theological Union in Berkeley, currently teaches theology at Creighton University. She has taught at University of California at Santa Barbara, Weston School of Theology in Cambridge, and Univeisity of Nebraska at Omaha in the fields of history of Christian spirituality, his-tory of religions, and family spirituality. Among her publications are Sa-cred Dwelling: A Spirituality of Family Life; Francis de Sales and Jane de Chantah Letters of Spiritual Direction (with Joseph F. Power); and 3 4 / Review for Religious, January-February 1990 Bond of Perfection: Jane de Chantal and Francis de Sales. She and her husband, Roger Bergman, who is director of New Covenant Justice and Peace Center, have three children and live in Omaha, Nebraska. Sister Suzanne Zuercher, O.S.B., holds a master's degree in clini-cal psychology from Loyola University of Chicago and is a licensed psy-chologist in the state of Illinois. She has worked as a school psycholo-gist, university campus minister, and for twelve years as staff member and co-director of the Institute of Spiritual Leadership of Loyola Univer-sity, an international program training men and women for spiritual lead-ership as companions for those on the spiritual journey. She has offered workshops throughout the United States and Canada as well as in Japan, Hong Kong, and Indonesia. As a member of the Benedictine Sisters of St. Scholastica Priory, Chicago, she has served as first councilor and is presently community secretary and formation directress, a position she also held for six years in the 1970s. As editor, I am delighted to welcome these members of our Advi-sory Board. With their broad experience, learning, and publishing skills, they give promise of providing Rzvmw FOR Rzt.~c~ot~s with future direc-tion and creative imagination as we look toward the Church of the third millennium. David L. Fleming, S.J. Challenges Facing Active Religious Today Sally A. Kenel, D.W. Sister Sally Kenel, D.W., can be addressed at St. John's University; 300 Howard Avenue; Staten Island, New York 10301. Iduring the summer of 1988 I participated in the General Chapter of the congregation to which I belong, the Daughters of Wisdom. Since we are an international group with our generalate in Rome, the meeting was held at a large house specially equipped for chapters in the lake district out-side of Rome. There were many adjustments to make: some as basic as climate, language, and food. However, it was only after we had been meeting for about a week that I realized that even more significant than these was the overall adjustment in lifestyle. We followed a strict schedule which centered around our Eucharis-tic celebration and our Marian prayer in common. The casa at which we met was quite far from the nearest town. Moreover, the doors of the house as well as the gates of the property were locked at 9:30 P.M. and reopened at 8:00 A.M. On the several occasions I absented myself from the common meals, questions about the state of my health indicated that I had been "missed." In my initial processing of this experience, I com-pared being at the general chapter to being in the novitiate. However, as our discussions at the chapter centered on the mission of the congregation and the lifestyle of a religious today, I realized that even as we talked about community life in an active religious congrega-tion, we were living a monastic lifestyle. This insight served as the cata-lyst for this article in that it stimulated my reflections on the active as opposed to monastic lifestyle, and the challenges facing post-Vatican II active religious. Review for Religious, January-February 1990 The Active Religious Life Almost twenty five years ago, the Second Vatican Council in its "De-cree on the Appropriate Renewal of Religious Life," stated that such a renewal involved two simultaneous processes: "(1) a continuous return to the sources of all Christian life and to the original inspiration behind a given community and (2) an adjustment of the community to the changed conditions of the times."~ In the years which followed, our con-gregation, like so many others, took these words of Vatican II to heart and with much prayer, soul searching, discussion, and, at times, painful confrontation, engaged in the renewal of our congregation. The result of our efforts was the declaration that for us mission is primary. In other words, on the continuum which runs from contemplative to active relig-ious lifel we clearly situated ourselves near the latter. In so placing ourselves, we joined with other congregations in liv-ing religious life in a way that George Aschenbrenner has distinguished from contemplative life in six main ways. (!) Ministry is the primary de-termining influence for the community. This being the case, then (2) a certain flexibility is necessary in order to be able to deal with the de-mands' of ministerial activities. However, such a life may become scat-tered; therefore, (3) discernment is needed if religious are to find, be with, and serve God through their works. Since the purpose of the con-gregation is to be sent in mission, (4) mobility and availability are key elements of an active spirituality, and correspondingly (5) an apostolic form of prayer should characterize active religious. Finally, (6) the com-munity must be marked by a unity which goes beyond physical presence to a unity of mind and heart.2 Although active congregations have done much to make these char-acteristics vital dimensions of their lives, certain of these areas continue to challenge. Frequently the challenge they offer is a subtle one. While religious are engaged in evaluating their ministries and strategizing to in-culturate the gospel message and values, other aspects of active religious life may be neglected. It is these areas which continue to challenge re-ligious, and at times provide the fodder for those who endorse a return to a more traditional lifestyle. Assuming that participation in the mission of the Church is primary for active religious, and that our efforts at renewal in this area are con-stant, a whole variety of questions arise. For example, when we focus our efforts on mission what happens to community? Does it remain one of the marks of religious life, or do we abandon it and become secular institutes? As our communities become smaller and our works less insti- Challenges Facing Religious Life / 7 tutionalized what happens to "local superiors"? If they are no longer needed as administrators, who fills the mentoring roles which they tra-ditionally held? What is an apostolic prayer life? Can unity of heart and mind extend beyond the borders of a particular country or culture to form an international bond? The fact that these questions are spin-offs from the primary question of ministry in no way diminishes our responsibility to respond. As ac-tive religious we need to grapple with these issues to see where the Spirit is leading us today. It is to reflection on these questions that we now turn. The Challenge of Community Living The Vatican document, "Essential Elements in the Church's Teach-ing. on Religious Life," states that: The style of community life itself will relate to the form of apostolate for which the members have responsibility and to the culture and soci-ety in which this responsibility is accepted. The form of apostolate may well decide the size and location of a community, its particular needs, its standards of living.3 This statement clearly indicates that a community lifestyle is the norm for religious, and recognizes that local communities can and must take a form appropriate to the needs of the apostolate. As simple as this may seem, any one who tries to live in community with people who engage in a variety of ministries knows that the reality is quite complex. People come to community with a variety of expectations. Some use the family as the model for community life. Although the sharing of re-sources that community life demands may well be similar to that of a fam-ily, there are also differences. Some people expect to find in community the security of a parent-child relationship where they may relax in de-pendence or dominance depending on their personalities. Others ap-proach community as a sorority or fraternity and expect that community will provide them with a group of congenial companions with whom they may spend their free time. Others look on community as a shelter, a place to come home to after a hard day's work. Sitting quietly in front of the TV is their idea of a pleasant evening together. For still others, a "bed and breakfast" model of community is the ideal. Ministerial ob-ligations, dinners with friends, shopping, visits to a health club, and so forth, indiscriminately keep a person busy every evening. By so limit-ing the time spent with the group, a person is able to avoid the give-and-take which life in community ordinarily demands. At least in part, all these expectations show a response to the com~ Review for Religious, January-February 1990 mon life that was the norm for religious communities prior to Vatican II. At that point in time, a good community was one whose main attrib-utes were regularity, order, and discipline. Vestiges of this ideal remain and constitute the basis for the expectations of some religious today. On the other hand, there are religious whose expectations of community have their roots in reactions against a common life. The result is a ten-sion which is expressed by clusters of people around the pole of group orientation in opposition to clusters of people around the pole of indi-vidual orientation. Attempts to address such tension on the practical level has led to such practices as interviewing prospective members of a local community in order to examine mutual compatibility. Although such testing may lead to a more peaceful life together, it fails to address the basic issue of the value of community itself. Why do active religious live in community? One way to respond to this question is rooted in Johannes Metz's understanding of religious congregations as "the institutionalized form of a dangerous memory within the Church."4 The community life of an active religious congregation, then, recalls the enthusiastic union of the early Christians described in the Acts of the Apostles: "The community of believers was of one heart and mind, and no one claimed that any of his possessions was his own, but they had everything in common" (Ac 3:32). These early Christians had grasped the notion that God is community, the Trinity, and gave witness to this belief through their life together. Thus, the community life of active re-ligious today serves as a protest against the excessive individualism in today's society and bears witness to the fact that to be is to be in rela-tionship. Reflection on the value of community does not immediately solve all the problems connected with the living of community today. However, it does provide the context in which religious can explore the particulars of community life. By locating the value of community in witness, the notion of community for the mission of the Church is reaffirmed. Thus, the challenge for active religious is to find ways of being together in com-munity which facilitate the ministries of each member, and at the same time proclaim the interdependence of all people. The Challenge o1' Mentoring Several years ago when I was a member of our community's forma-tion team we spent a great deal of time reflecting on where to send our ne~,ly professed sisters. Although ministerial opportunity was our pri-mary consideration, we quickly became involved in the question of vi-able community situations. Where were there sisters who would be open Challenges Facing Religious Life to sharing their lives with the temporary professed whose experiences were so different? Where were there sisters who could and would serve as mentors for these women? In general, we found a reluctance on the part of older sisters to become involved in a mentoring relationship. In pre-Vatican II days this problem did not exist. The local superior was responsible for all the sisters in her house, and she was expected to pay particular attention to the integration of the temporary professed into the community. Thus, the formation begun in the postulate, novitiate, and juniorate was continued by the superior in the house to which a sis-ter was assigned. In addition, regular personal meetings with the supe-rior often served as spiritual direction. Today active communities are smaller and less structured. Often, the group is not uniformly involved in a particular ministry. Joined to the emphasis on the personal respon-sibi! ity of each member, these factors have contributed to the demise of the role of local superior. In their place we find the "communicator" or "contact person," that is, someone within the group who accepts re-sponsibility for communication with the provincial leadership, and so forth. However successful such communication may be, this redefinition of task may leave the mentoring role which the superior formerly filled empty. Such a lack not only deprives new members of receiving the tra-ditions of the community, but also raises the question of whether the adult crisis which Erikson describes as Generativity vs. Stagnation is be-ing successfully negotiated. Although some may claim that their minis-try outside the congregation commits them to involvement in establish-ing and guiding the next generation of Christians, the responsibility of passing on the charism of their particular group cannot be ignored. However, some will argue that the religious life of today bears little resemblance to the life to which they committed themselves. They con-tend that they cannot be expected to pass on the tradition because they themselves do not know what has happened to it. Take daily Eucharist, for example. They consider it a must, and yet newer members of the com-munity do not share the depth of their commitment in this area. How can they be expected to pass on the tradition to those whose values are judged not only different but inferior? What these people fail to realize is that generativity demands the pass-ing on of the tradition, in this case the charism, and not one particular time bound expression of it. Their nostalgic reminiscences of the "good old days" when community members did everything together are but signs of their own stagnation. The challenge for active religious is to re- Review for Religious, January-February 1990 alize that the process of renewal set in motion by Vatican II is an ongo-ing one. It demands the frequent return to the charism, and the contin-ual search for appropriate expressions of the charism. The refusal of men-toring roles in a congregation may indicate that it is time to examine the charism again with the hope of identifying its core values so that these values in turn may be passed on. It may also be time to view the charism as a gift to the whole Church, not merely to a particular congregation. This opens ihe way to redefining membership to include associate mem-bership and other forms of affiliation with a congregation. These new forms of membership in turn raise anew the challenge of mentorship. The Challenge of an Apostolic Prayer Life The need for prayer in the life of a religious is often likened to a car's need for gasoline. Unless one gets the tank filled periodically, the car will not continue to run. One immediately makes the connection with the need for religious to take time to become filled with God. Today's re-ligious seem very much aware of the need for periodic retreats and pro-longed periods of prayer. However, another automobile analogy can be made. It is not only gasoline in the engine that keeps a car running. While the car is going the battery must be constantly recharged by the ¯ alternator or else the car cannot continue to run. Thus, besides setting aside more extended periods for prayer, an apostolic prayer life calls for continual prayer in the midst of activity. But, how does one "pray always?" (Lk 18: I). The temptation is to claim that one's work is prayer. However, in such a simple equation, both work and prayer lose something. A brief reflection on Eucharist may help to bring the relationship between prayer and work into sharper focus for the active religious. Eucharist involves three basic movements: thanksgiving, memorial, and invocation. At Eucharist we give thanks to God in Jesus' name for all the good things--be they as general as creation, and redemption, or as particular as specific moments of grace. We remember the death and resurrection of Jesus, the "dangerous memory" par excellence, a mem-ory which promises freedom for all. We implore the Holy Spirit to make our gifts holy and to transform ourselves as well. Notice, however, that this is not the prayer of an individual, but rather we thank; we remem-ber; we invoke. The Eucharist teaches us that prayer is not merely a dia-logue between a person and God, but rather that Christian prayer is com-munal. Moreover, Eucharist does not end when one leaves the church. As the poe~n by R. Voight makes clear, in our work we do Eucharist. Con- Challenges Facing Religious Life sider, one verse: He was old, tired, and sweaty, pushing his homemade cart down the alley, stopping now and then to poke around in somebody's garbage. I wanted to tell him about Eucharist But the look in his eyes the despair on his face, the hopelessness of somebody else's life in his cart, Told me to forget it. So I smiled, said "Hi"--and gave him Eucharist.5 This brief reflection on Eucharist points to the dynamic relation be-tween prayer and work in the life of the active religious. Prayer as en-gagement in contemplation is not an individual activity, but rather, no matter how personal, is also communal. Our communion with Christ is a communion with the Body of Christ as well. This sense of communion finds expression in prayer not only as the context out of which one prays but also in the form of prayers of petition, and through such expression communion is enhanced. In turn, this sense of unity with others demands expression in our ministry. Our union with Christ urges us to a life of service. Thus, an apostolic prayer life does not exist alone, but only in conjunction with a prayerful apostolate. The challenge of an apostolic prayer life is to develop a prayerful approach to ministry so that prayer and work are viewed as different forms which our efforts towards true communion take. The Challenge of Internationality We live in a time when distances between places have been reduced drastically by improved means of communication and transportation. We live in a time when the condition of the very planet on which we live challenges us to recognize our interdepeiadence. Simultaneously, how-ever, today's religious are encouraged to adapt their style of life to the demands of their specific apostolates and to the culture in which they live. In trying to make such adaptations, religious tend to emphasize the needs and demands of the local church and the local community. Al-though such a focus is important, at times it can be isolating, and can raise the question of what it means to belong to a larger group, be it prov-ince or international congregation. In other words, if we have more in common with other religiou~ living and working in similar situations than we have with other members of our own congregation, why belong to Review for Religious, January-February 1990 an international congregation? Responses to questions such as these hang on the value which one places on the charism of a congregation. Is the charism an adequate ground on which bonds strong enough to extend across continents yet flex-ible enough to allow for cultural diversity can be built? Or to put it an-other way, does sharing the past, being a community of memory, so ori-ent us that we engage in the here and now not only with enthusiasm, but with the realization that our here and now is but a part of the total pres-ent reality? Moreover, does being a community of memory so orient us towards the future that we face it with hope not only for ourselves, but for all people, for the world? The potential of the charism of a congregation to enable bonding needs to be developed and made concrete. In recent years such develop-ment of the charism in active congregations often has taken the form of a mission statement. However, the mission statement itself can remain purely theoretical unless we begin to share the stories of how this state-ment is enfleshed in the specific ministries of religious in different cul-tures. Without such interpersonal and self-disclosing communication, true bonding within the congregation will not occur~ and the potential for challenge and affirmation on an international level will remain unde-veloped. International bonding built on the principles of interpersonal and self-disclosing communication stands in stark contrast to a hierarchical model of bonding. In the former, the general administration is charged with fa-cilitating such communication as opposed to serving as the bond of unity in the congregation. Each member shares the responsibility of preserv-ing and strengthening the bonds of congregational unity. Furthermore, each member shares the responsibility for creating new bonds through her sharing of the concrete form the charism takes in her life and minis-try. In other words, the local community and the local church need not become less important to the individual religious, but each one must come to the recognition that there are other local communities and other local churches where needs and attempts to meet these needs are quite different from one's own. Moreover, the full meaning of one's local church and local community can be found only in relationship to the uni-versal Church and the congregation. A religious congregation as a visible, identifiable group of people within the Church serves as a model of the Church. A non-hierarchical understanding of the internationality of a congregation can function as a symbol of grace for the larger community. As such it refuses to allow Challenges Facing Religious Life the universal Church to be understood as the Vatican, but recalls the Pauline understanding of universal Church as the communion of local churches. At the same time, the internationality of a congregation refuses to allow a local church to consider itself an autonomous subdivision of the universal Church. The internationality of a religious congregation calls the Church to recognize that it is at once local and universal. However, a religious congregation can function as a symbol of grace for the Church in this way only if it itself is truly international. In other words, the challenge of internationality for a religious congregation is much the same as it is for the Church--to realize that it is at once local and universal. On the practical level, this becomes the challenge of es-tablishing, maintaining, and enhancing personal, self-disclosing commu-nications. Conclusions If the chosen priority of a religious congregation is the mission of the Church, then this priority will have ramifications on all of life. The challenges facing active religious today flow from this primary commit-ment to ministry. Moreover, the challenges which we examined in this article all seem to have a common thread--that of recognizing oneself as living in relationship. Whether one examines the quality of local com-munity life, the continuation of a congregation and its values through men-toring, apostolic prayer, or internationality, the central challenge is to a life of interdependence. In other words, the ideal of the "rugged indi-vidual" has no place in active religious life. Since many of us have cul-tivated this ideal in order to survive the past two decades in religious life, the challenge to live interdependently is one that strikes at the heart of our hard won "freedom." On the other hand, interdependent living and dependent living are not synonymous. Interdependency demands that we take responsibility for our own lives and at the same time realize that we are part of an intricate web of relationships. Insofar as religious are able to meet the challenges of interdepend-ent living, they in turn will become challenges to others--to the Church, to the nationalistic spirit of governments, to a consumerism which has no regard for non-human life, or the environment. In this way, active religious will serve as symbols of grace, reflecting to all the community of God. NOTES "Decree on the Appropriate Renewal of Religious Life," in The Documents of Vati- Review for Religious, January-February 1990 can H, ed. Walter M, Abbott, S.J., p. 468, no. 2. 2 See "Active and Monastic: Two Apostolic Lifestyles," REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Wol. 45 (1986): pp. 653-668. 3 Origins 13 (1983) p. 136, no. 21. 4 Followers of Christ (New York: Paulist Press, 1978), p. 12. 5 As quoted in Morton T. Kelsey, The Other Side of Silence (Paulist Press, 1976), pp. 276-278. The Challenge God, can you wrap your arms around me, hold me tight and tell me that you love me? Jesus, as my lover, can you really do that? Spirit, can you fulfill the need I feel . . . to be touched, squeezed, loved? Make love to me, God, can you do that? Whisper in my ear, Jesus, can you? Tell me You want me as well, Spirit, is that possible? Am I not to be human anymore? Am I not to feel desire? Am I not to remember or imagine? I imagine his pain as the nail broke through his flesh. I remember the words he screamed at his death. My heart is full of desire for him. I am human--so was he. He came to gather us for his Father. He wants me. He whispers to me everyday and makes love to me with every breath I take. He touches me, squeezes me, loves me. Yes, Lord. My God. I believe. I feel your arms engulf me-- Hold me tighter, Lord. I love you, too. Elaine Laws A.S.C. Affiliate Lay Volunteer Liberia, W. Africa Enlarging Perspectives for the Future of Religious Life Shaun McCarty, S.T. Father Shaun McCarty, S.T., teaches in the Washington Theological Union and is a staff member of the Shalem Institute for Spiritual Formation. His address is Holy Trinity Mission Seminary; 9001 New Hampshire Avenue; Silver Spring, Maryland 20903. ~l~s we approach the last decade of this century, religious find themselves deeply concerned with and uncertain about the future. The crisis facing religious (mainly in the United States and in western Europe) is marked by a decrease in vocations, an increase in median age, and a growing com-plexity of ministerial needs. Many are experiencing either sadness, fear, anger, helplessness, hopelessness, or some combination of the above! The causality (which I would not pursue at length here) is complex. In addition to a history of change that has marked the evolution of reli-gious life, there are theological reasons for the present crisis such as Vati-can II's accent on the universal call to holiness; pastoral ones such as ex-panding possibilities for dedicated service for laity; and cultural ones such as delayed maturation leading to difficulties for young people in mak-ing lasting commitments. People have different ways of dealing with crisis. One can choose (a) to deny or ignore it with a cockeyed optimism; (b) to blame it on the wrong causes or people; (c) to hanker after "the good old days" (that are yet to come!); (d) to become immobilized and depressed by a fatalis-tic cynicism; (e) to engage in narcissistic introspection and breast-beating; (f) myopically to limit one's perspective or to focus on the wrong issues. None of these alternatives is constructive. My contention is that religious life is in transition and that we need 15 Review for Religious, January-February 1990 a strategy for living in a transitional period. As a first step in developing such a strategy, I would suggest enlarging one's perspectives so as to face the future with hope. By "perspective" I mean the scope or hori-zon of a person's or a group's vision whereby one is enabled to perceive context, allowing for a sense of proportion and within which one can fo-cus attention and energy. Context enables one to see something in its re-lationship rather than in isolation. This, in turn, allows it to be seen in proportion to its real significance. Within proper context, one can then choose to focus on the right issues. It is also my contention that, though painful, crisis bears potential for growth. "Crisis" literally means being presented with a situation de-manding decision. The word for discernment in Greek is diakrisis, that is, "a sorting out." It is that "sorting out" that I would like to address. As all Christians, religious have a responsibility to discern the signs of the times in the process of making decisions for the future in a spirit of hope for the coming of the kingdom. So the question is: What help is available in reading the signs of the times that are pertinent to what has always been a changing shape of religious life? My task is to try to provide some perspectives that might enable a hopeful reflection on what we can expect and prudent decisions about what we can do to help shape the future. I will attempt neither to predict nor will I presume to play the prophet. Rather, I will explore some mean-ings and pose some questions that might hopefully expand and deepen perspectives in sharing responsibility for the future. Some Meaning to Broaden Perspectives I would suggest five key areas where broader and deeper perspec-tives might be profitably pursued. They include: (I) the primacy of the kingdom (or reign) of God; (2) a mature grasp of and love for the Church as "Catholic"; (3) membership in interdependent religious community; (4) different approaches to and notions of the future; (5) the cultivation of a mature sense of Christian hope and trust. The Primacy of the Kingdom (or Reign) of God Kingdom (or reign~ of God is a symbol used to convey the mystery of the corporate vision or dream for the future that energizes Christians for involvement in the present. It is the large perspective that embraces all the others. It summarizes the mission of Christ now shared by all. God's reign is already breaking through and manifest by those liv-ing the beatitudes which results in fruits of the Spirit such as peace, jus-tice, mercy, forgiveness, reconciliation, unity, and love. Obviously these Enlarging Perspectives values of the kingdom are not the exclusive property of any group within the Church or even of the Church itself. A Mature Grasp of and Love for the Church as "Catholic" The Church, though not co-terminus with the kingdom, is a commu-nity of disciples called together in Christ to be a visible body united in belief, discipline and worship in service of the kingdom. It is important to remember that the beginnings of the Church (which we continue to remember) were marked by "upper room experiences" where Jesus washed feet as a prelude to Eucharist and where the Holy Spirit descended upon disciples who had gathered in fear and confusion to be empowered for the mission of proclaiming the Good News of the kingdom. "Catholic" is a designation that indicates the universality of the Church's scope; its quest for unity, yet respect for differences; its inclu-siveness of peoples and cultures; and its ability to recognize and to re-spect kingdom values wherever they are found. The term "Catholic" is opposed to insular, parochial, provincial, or sectarian attitudes. A mature love for the Church means accepting her in both her graced and flawed condition; being faithful to her in attempting to personalize the institution as others experience Church in our ministry to them; and working prophetically from within the perennial tasks of renewal (begin-ning with ourselves!). Membership in Interdependent Religious Community Religious life is an ecclesial way of living a vowed Christian life in community for the sake of the kingdom. It is both charism and institu-tion. As charism, it is a gift of the Spirit to the Church through the in-spiration of a founder. As institution, it is structured according to a rule of life or constitution approved by the Church. Though both charism and institution are important elements to be kept in poised tension, I would suggest that sharing in the charism is morevital to membership than par-ticipation in its institutional structures. It is even a deeper bond than af-fective ties with other members. By membership I mean how, where, and when one experiences a sense of bel6nging to or connectedness within a group. I would also suggest that today, more than ever before, members and communities are called to greater interdependence both within the com-munity and with other groups. By "interdependence," I mean mutual dependency in co-responsible fashion as opposed to an unhealthy inde-pendence or dependence. Review for Religious, January-February 1990 Different Approaches to and Attitudes towards the Future "Future" refers to that aspect of human history not yet fully here except in seed and about which little can be known with certainty, but for which there is responsibility for human choices in the present. There are different attitudes about the future. Some hold that history continues to repeat itself and that managing the future means knowing the past. Others think changes are going to be so radically different in the future that it is senseless to look at the past. There are others still who feel that, as the present has emerged in continuity with the past, so the future will be both creative and new, but will emerge in continuity with the past and present. I believe the latter is more in keeping with the notion of Divine Provi-dence. As a matter of fact, the Latin root of "providence" is "pro vid-ere" which means literally "to see with" or "to see for"--implying the use of dynamic memory in looking at the past, creative imagination in looking at the future, and collaborative action in the pres.ent. Thus Di-vine Providence may be viewed, as God calling creatures to be co-responsible for and to collaborate with the Spirit in shaping the future. There are different kinds of futures including: (a) possible, that is, what could happen limited only by the scope of imagination; (b) prob-able, that is, given current trends, what is likely to happen; (c) prefer-able, that is, what should happen determined by a value system; and (d) plausible, that is, what can happen by attending carefully to the other kinds of futures. I would suggest that, in helping to shape the future, we need to explore the possible, assess the probable, assert the preferable, and attempt the plausible. The Cultivation of a Mature Sense of Hope and Trust By hope I mean trustful expectation for the future, born of faith in promises of the more to come. Just as with faith, I believe there is a first and second naivete of hope. In faith development, what begins initially as an unquestioning and naive faith, after a period of doubt and questioning, can grow into a more critical and mature faith marked by a second naivete. A similar develop-ment can happen in regard to a naix, e hope. An Eden-like expectation of absolute assurance can be shattered by an act of betrayal (real or sup-posed, conscious or unconscious). If the person thus "betrayed" can for-give and effect reconciliation with the event of betrayal, then that per-son can grow to a more mature trust (second naivete) which includes the possibility and risk of further betrayal. I would submit that people can experience corporate as well as individual betrayals, that is, betrayal by Enlarging Perspectives a renewed Church or changed religious community. Some Questions to Enlarge Perspectives (1) Perspectives of kingdom and Church Are we "catholic" enough in our notion of Church? How much do we perceive Church in the first person plural? Do we view both institu-tional and charismatic elements in the Church as interdependent, minis-tering in mutual dependency rather than as competitors or adversaries? As different (and often differing!) individuals and groups in the Church, can we transcend personal and intramural agenda by focusing on king-dom priorities? Does our grasp of Church embrace a missionary dimen-sion as necessary to its fullness? In carrying forth the mission, do we see evangelization as a two-way street, a dialogue in which we need to lis-ten to learn as well as to proclaim to teach kingdom values? Do we value quality of personal evangelization (especially our own !) over quantity of religious practices? In evangelizing, are we able to distinguish Gospel from cultural values? Are we developing a mature love for that Church? Does such love imply placing a priority on our personal relationship with Jesus and com-mitment to the Gospel proclaiming his kingdom as realities that relativ-ize Church membership? In realizing that discipleship is prior to apostleship? In seeing code, creed, and cult as important, but secondary to our experience of God in Christ? Does a mature love for the Church call for recognizing and embracing the flawed as well as the the graced condition not only of ourselves and other individuals, but of the Church itself? Does it mean reverencing the person and opinions of others who disagree with us? Being able to forgive those who wound us? Does ma-ture love prefer invitation to control by refusing to resort to power poli-tics to win the day, even for a worthy cause? Does it include making pref-erential, yet not exclusive options for the poor? Does it call for building bridges between those who have and those who have not? Do we foster mature love of Church by exercising a truly servant leadership that is ready to wash feet? To share Eucharist in life as well as sacrament? To discern the Spirit of God in experiences of life? To recognize, affirm, and enable the use of different gifts for ministry in the Church? Does ma-ture love lead us to avoid elitism and to shun seeking privilege? Are we comfortable enough in our Catholic identity so as to engage in genuine dialogue (in which we listen as well as speak) with other Christians and non-Christians energized by a passion for unity in love as well as truth? Do we acknowledge goodness wherever or in whomever we find it, in-side or outside the Church? Do we acknowledge kingdom values wher- Review for Religious, January-February 1990 ever we find them? (2) Perspectives of religious life: So as to establish a proper context, rather than asking in isolation "What is happening to religious life?", should we be asking, "What is happening in the Church?" And what is happening in the global Church--in Africa, Latin America, Asia, and elsewhere? Not just in the local Church in a given diocese, nation, or culture. Within respective religious communities, do we need to shift focus and to widen horizons? To shift the focus of membership in community from local living to the larger religious community sharing a charism within a context of Church and kingdom? As religious, is there any higher obedience we owe the Church than fidelity to the charism of our community? And, in fact, is that charism the exclusive possession of any given canonical group? Can that same charism be shared by men as well as women? By laity as well as by religious? by non-Catholics as well as by Catholics? If the charism is susceptible of wider appropriation, then is there a responsibility for religious to share and foster it with others out-side their own canonical groups? Could it be that the charism will out-live present structures that embody it? What can we do to discover or to create the conditions for"upper room experiences" so that community gatherings might become energiz-ing and enabling rather than enervating and obstructive? What would they look like in terms of participation? Prayerful mode? Respect for dif-ferent gifts for ministry? Though responsibly planned, with a readiness for kairos moments in which we can be surprised by the Spirit? Agenda with priority on the needs of those we serve over internal concern? Lis-tening with open hearts? How are we dealing with the fear and confu-sion of crisis? How and in what areas can we work in mutual dependence with oth-ers who share our concerns? Where is there redundancy, competition, or unhealthy independence or dependence? Between religious communities? Between men and women? Between religious and laity? Between parish priests and religious or lay associates? Between Catholic and non- Catholic sponsored programs? What kind of support do we need from and can we give to one another? (3) Perspectives of the future and hope for it: Can we resist being victimized by "prophets of doom" proclaim-ing the probable? Are we ready to share responsibility for shaping the future by reading the signs of the times and by making discerned choices for the preferable and plausible futures? Have we grown in a mature Enlarging Perspectives sense of hope and trust? Have we survived real or supposed "betrayal" within communities and/or the Church? How have we reacted or re-sponded? With bitterness? Anger? Resentment? Cynicism? or with for-giveness and reconciliation? With the readiness to enter a more real world? With greater awareness and acceptance of human limitation? With a more mature love of Church? With the willingness to risk in trust-ing again? With the firm belief that, though Jesus has ceased to be vis-ible, he has never ceased to be present? Conclusion Perhaps a fitting paradigm for this time of transition would be the Exodus event? Many, lured by promises, never reached the Promised Land themselyes, but lived and worked that others might? As Sam Goldwyn used to remark at meetings. "For your informa-tion, I have come to ask a few questions!" Perhaps this is a time for hav-ing more disturbing questions than comforting answers. It was Rilke who said the important thing was to love the questions and perhaps someday we would live ourselves into the answers! There might be the germ in that for a strategy of survival for religious during an era of transition: to love and live the questions to~e'ther in hope! Towards A Trinitarian Model of Religious Life John J. Markey, O.P. Father John Markey, O.P., is a member of the Southern Dominican Province. His address is De Porres House; 495 Merritt Avenue; Oakland, California 94610. The authors of the landmark book, Habits of the Heart, present a clear challenge to traditional religious communities which claim to want to "transform" the dominant cultural ethos. ~ It is ultimately up to the vari-ous churches to provide a morally coherent alternative to the radically myopic individualism that has come to so characterize and inform Ameri-can culture. But religion itself has often been both systematically co-opted by this culture, and has reinforced it by providing a rationale for its most insipid implications. It is, therefore, increasingly evident that the churches must begin any wider prophetic role by questioning and re-imagining their own communal life, and the place of the valid insights of individualism within this context. Within the Roman Catholic tradi-tion it is clear that those in religious life have a particularly urgent man-date and rich resources in this regard. There is a growing awareness that any genuine Christian community must be both inculturated and prophetic. This means that the community must define itself within a certain cultural context; it must take seriously and even incarnate the valid insights and thought-forms of the culture. But the community will also necessarily have a countercuitural dimen-sion to it. It will be characterized by a lifestyle that explicitly contradicts some cultural themes and attitudes that are seen to be irreconcilable with gos-pel values. A thorough analysis of American culture would reveal many myths 22 A Trinitarian Model. of Religious Life / 23 and values that need to be challenged and transvalued by the gospel, but no single aspect of American life is as pervasive and dominant as radi-cal individualism. It is fair to say that Western liberal thought revolves around this theme, and that it informs every strain of American cultural life. The deifica~tion of this cultural value has had a destructive impact on American life by creating an ethos where commitment is often unin-telligible, fragmentation and disintegration of family life is unavoidable, and personal isolation is the norm. This is not to say that individualism in itself is the problem. On the contrary, there are many positive and valuable insights attached to this thought-form. Some of the fundamental values derived from individual-ism that religious communities should incarnate are: the emphasis on the value and dignity of each person and the role of the community in en-hancing this dignity; the primacy of the personal, relational, and experi-ential dimension of the community life over against the institutional and structural dimension; and the absolute need for personal manifestation and self-appropriation of community identity, decisions, and goals. Any North American religious community must take the valuable insights of individualism seriously if it truly wants to be both inculturated and pro-phetic. But the community must, at the same time, develop a lifestyle that puts this phenomenon in the fuller perspective of the gospel. Proposal for an lnculturated North American Model of Religious Life Given both the major cultural themes and the major cultural needs and problems, I propose that community should be the rubric around which we redefine our understanding and praxis of religious life at this time. I think that it is this element of religious life which, if properly un-derstood, best encompasses and incorporates the relational, personal, and experiential values that we learn from our culture. It is also community which most clearly responds to the desperate need in our time for a sig-nificant countercultural alternative to radical individualism. It is clear, however, that we must come to a new and meaningful understanding of community, particularly in a Christian and Catholic context, if we are going to develop the coherent alternative we seek. We must rethink tra-ditional understandings of community and communal life in terms that can both express the new insights of the culture while at the same time remaining faithful to the spirit of both the gospel and the broader tradi-tion in regard to community. Along these lines, then, I propose that we consider the Trinity to be the model of authentic Christian community, and therefore the context Review for Religious, January-February 1990 in which we redefine community and community life. I hope to make it clear that a trinitarian model and trinitarian terminology are ultimately more helpful for the task previously laid out than the Christological model on which much of religious life is currently based. Furthermore, I propose that we adopt a modern (though traditionally informed) social understanding of the Trinity that explains the Trinity in experiential terms. Here I am essentially assuming that there are two traditional theo-logical interpretations of the Trinity, that while related are finally dis-tinct. 2 I will try to explain the two lines of development below and then show some of the implications of taking one as our model of commu-nity. It is important to see that the fundamental advantage of this option is that it provides a model of community based on the very life of God as we understand it. In this sense the religious community is defined as an icon of the Trinity, which means that its self-understanding must ul-timately be shaped by its most deeply held theological assertions. Two Approaches to Understanding the Trinity I) Substantial Identity In the West after Augustine, the primary approach to Trinity was to begin with the divine "substantia," the single and simple essence or sub-stance of the Godhead, and then try to explain (generally using a very schematic psychological model) how this single substance could be triper-sonal. So the main focus of this line of development was the attempt to show how the three persons could relate to one common divine sub-stance, which necessarily precluded any multiplicity, while at the same time maintaining a real distinction of persons. This approach was suc-cessful in describing the unity of the Godhead, but ultimately found it difficult to give an adequate account of the relation of persons within this unity. For this reason articulations of this approach often ended in either modalism or quaternity. H)Vital Identity and Mutual Inexistence In the East, following the lead of the Cappadocian Fathers, there was a tendency to begin with the reality of the three persons and then to ar-gue to the unity of the Godhead. In essence, the task of this approach was to show how three persons could be one (rather than how one could be three). Along these lines there were two critical developments. First, Victorinus proposed that the unity of God be described as a "vital iden-tity" of life and action rather than as a "substantia."3 God then was not to be understood as some static essence, but as vitally and dynamically A Trinitarian Model of Religious Life / 95 alive. The three persons, therefore, do not share a common substance so much as a common identity of life. Secondly, John of Damascus proposed the concept of mutual inex-istence (perichoresis) as the best way to describe the unity of the three persons.4 This meant that the three indwell in one another and compene-trate with one another, as the flame of three wicks can burn as one. This mutual indwelling or inexistence of the divine persons is not a conse-quence of their unity, but the equivalent of it. It is in fact the mutual and complete compenetration of the three divine persons that comprises their essential unity. So here the divine persons literally exist in one another in a vibrant and ecstatic way. The three persons, as incorporeal and fully self-donating, experience an interpenetration and intense empathy that is ultimately a single identity of life. It is then the self-donation of the three persons that makes their unity possible. This mutual self-donation, however, does not compromise the autonomy of each divine person, but is only possible because of it. With-out autonomy no action would be possible, let alone self-donation. This perfect self-donation makes relationships unitive rather than divisive. This means that mutual self-donating relationships constitute the very re-ality of God. By beginning with the persons we come to a radically social under-standing of the Godhead that can in turn lead to a social understanding of created reality as well. God is the supreme communion of three di-vine persons, which humans are called to reflect imperfectly, but sacra-mentally, in relationships and community. If we choose community, then, as the rubric under which to rede-fine religious life, it would seem that the second approach to Trinity is the best model for human and particularly Christian community. I would contend however, that most models of religious life, and particularly the models of community within these, coming out of past paradigms in the West, are based on the "substantial identity" approach. I would like to make a short critique of the understanding of community under this model, and then begin to reinterpret some aspects of community and re-ligious life under this new model. Short Analysis of the Old Model of Community In many ways the old paradigm of religious life and particularly of community is analogous to the substantial identity approach to the Trin-ity. Traditional understandings of religious life tended to begin with the one substance, usually the institutional structure of the community, or-der or congregation, and then tried to fit individuals into this substance. Review for Religious, January-February 1990 So they began with the unity, which in this case tends to be a formal and impersonal unity, to which individual persons must relate. In this model the persons do not relate directly to one another, but instead relate to a certain "thing" called community. Personal relationships within this type of community are then either mediated or accidental. Individuality in this model means that I have my own personal and spiritual life (that should stay within certain boundaries and follow certain rubrics) and that I relate to the group in a certain structured way along the lines of func-tion. In other words, the work that I do is regulated by and somehow re-flects the group. The theological focus and justification for this understanding of com-munity tends to be narrowly Christological. As an individual I follow Christ by joining with a group of Christians who want to follow Christ along a similar pattern. In the West this pattern has often been basically informed by a military model (although it is a caricature to say that one became a "soldier for Christ," and that one joined the "Christian army," these images did seem to be present in the popular imagination of recent generations of religious). This narrowly Christological focus in turn often led to a linear and patriarchal institutional structure within which the individual must fit him-self or herself. This model also left no real room for the Holy Spirit and pneumatology because these tend to disrupt the structures (rules, consti-tutions,. traditions, and so forth) which are the source and focus of unity. In this scheme, then, unity was often equated with conformity to a set and impersonal pattern of common life. The main problem with this model is that it generally leads to one of two understandings of community and communal life, both of which are based on the assumption that there is some "thing" out there called a community that exists apart from the people that make it up. There is, for instance, a Dominican Order out there that somehow exists apart from Dominicans. This ultimately leads to understanding the community as be-ing fundamentally impersonal (which seems self-contradictory). This un-derstanding of community manifests itself in two basic forms, both of which I believe can be described in trinitarian terms. On the one hand, there is a kind of Modalism where each member of the community is just a projection of the whole group. Here each member is really interchange-able with any other member. Personal identity is subsumed in the whole so that my individual personality needs to be altered and re-formed so as to project the image of the whole. Secondly, the term Quaternity can be used to describe an understanding of community where each person A Trinitarian Model of Religious Life is seen to be a distinct member of the community, but there is always something more behind these called "the community." The community is some thing out there which each member, and all of the members as a whole, only represent but never fully embody. Religious Community Based on the Social Trinity Model Like its trinitarian paradigm, this understanding of religious commu-nity begins with the persons, and comes to understand their unity as that of persons sharing a vital identity of life based on mutual self-donation and shared vision. So the source of unity is love and its manifestation is the interpersonal bonding of the members. Although common struc-tures and institutions will arise from this unity to support it, they are not identical to this unity nor are they its source, starting point, or founda-tion. The actual starting point of this model is an understanding of per-sons as ecstatic beings who are most fully persons when they donate them-selves fully to the other in interpersonal relationships. In this sense per-sons can and do exist in one another~dwell in one another--in a way analogous to the way in which the persons of the Trinity mutually inex-ist. So this new model demands that community be understood in radi-cally personal and social terms. This approach effectively means that there is no "thing" out there called community that is essential and un-changeable and is unaffected by the persons who make it up. So there is, for instance, no Dominican order or community out there that exists apart from Dominicans. A consequence of this is that what a community is, or what the Dominican order is, is always changing and developing to some extent. The community is always dependent on the persons that make it up. So the community is always identified with the personal ex-perience of it. Although the community is always changing and developing with the people involved, it should always grow and develop along certain lines or patterns. This is because an essential part of the vital identity of the community will be an apprehension of and a resonance with the identity of the founder and the habitual tendency to live this out concretely over time. Those in community must interiorize this identity, and come to share it in common, as well as be familiar with how this identity has been lived out concretely in its shared history. Nevertheless, the present com-munity must never blindly follow one single concretization, or absolu-tize any past communal manifestation of this identity. The difference between this. and the older Christological model is that this model is profoundly pneumatological. Here to follow Christ Review for Religious, January-February 1990 means, first of all, to take on the mind of Christ, and this in turn means to be radically open to the Holy Spirit and the newness of mind that this entails. Taking on this mind leads to a radical personalization because it calls one to complete trust in the Father--which frees each person to be truly open and vulnerable to others. This mind also causes one to re-alize that mutual inexistence is not something one chooses, but is the very pattern and foundation of life (which one can choose to ignore). Be-cause the Holy Spirit is the ultimate personalizing principle, even within the Godhead, we see that the Spirit is the foundation of community.5 All of the above implies that the fundamental starting point for re-ligious community is conversion. The absolute need for the type of con-version process that allows us to take on the mind of Christ is obvious. Community is not possible without the orientation, transvaluation, and radical personalization of both initial and ongoing religious conversion. Any model of community that is not premised on both the initial and on-going need for conversion and repentance is inadequate. Community is not then finally some thing we can do; it is a gift we are given and can only receive. It is also not something we ever have as a finished product or achievement; its fulfillment always lies in the future, though the seeds of this future are already present. So these pneuma-based communities are inherently eschatological communities in that they point to and an-ticipate the fullness of communion in the future. Differences between the Old and New Models in Four Key Areas I) Formation Formation in the Old Model often meant re-formation. It often in-volved taking a person and changing him or her into a certain type of person who acted in a particular way and had a particular mind-set. For-mation in practice was usually indoctrination and incorporation into an institution. So there was a process set up that should end at a certain point with a certain type of predetermined character who could function within a defined system of life. The model of formation was most often seen to be military "boot camp," and the primary method of formation was sensory deprivation and incarceration. Under the New Model, formation would refer more-to the whole group than to the individual person. This is because with each new per-son that enters.the group, the group must re-form, as it were, and estab-lish a new unity. The model for individuals would actually be incorpo-ration, but not incorporation into a preexisting and unchangeable struc-ture. Rather, the process would be one of being drawn into a conscious A Trinitarian Model of Religious Life / 99 union of persons that entails individual and group conversion. It is a proc-ess of growth in desire and ability to donate oneself to a certain group of people, and for the group to accept and relate personally to the new person, hence redefining itself in terms of that person. The model for for-mation here would be more like the RCIA. It is a dynamic process of conversion and incorporation that challenges both the individual and the community to come to a new understanding of and commitment to oth-ers. Initial formation in a strict sense would include a process of coming to know the vital identity of the preexisting group by coming to know the identity and vision of the founder and interiorizing this vision in a way that causes the person to make decisions that in turn forms his or her character. In other words, there is a sense of taking on a new iden-tity, but this identity is always personal, and builds on the character, per-sonality, and experience of the person. It is neither a process of becom-ing someone wholly different from oneself, nor the same as others; it is coming to a fullness of autonomy and unique identity. It is a process of becoming who the person truly is. It is only this process that can facili-tate Christian community, because self-donation is ultimately based on the fullness of autonomy, not the lack of it. lrI) Vows In the Old Model the vows were generally understood to be explicit commitments to live out a certain pattern of life: This pattern was often based on the narrow, military sense of following Christ that I have al-ready mentioned. The vows were then defined as being those elements that were necessary to maintain a cohesive and successful group identity and purpose. Obedience, therefore, was often the primary vow (for Dominicans it was the only vow), and was understood in the military sense of accept-ing a certain authority structure and chain of command. How one related to the community as a whole. The authority structure tended to take the place of interpersonal responsibility to the community---following orders from legitimate authority, no matter how half-heartedly and passively, was seen to be obedience. Poverty was the commitment to be materially dependent on the whole group, and to accept the priority of the corporate needs over one's own. So one could not own anything personally (that is, neither personal bank accounts nor independent financial resources), although one might have the use of things based on need. Furthermore, this vow was gener-ally regarded as applying only to the individual's obligation in regard to Review for Religious, January-February 1990 material goods, although it was occasionally seen to impinge on the ma-terial wealth of the community as a whole. Celibacy had both a moral and an institutional basis. It was, there-fore, seen as the obligation to abstain from all sexual activity, and to avoid all exclusive relationships so as to avoid scandal to the group's repu-tation and to insure cohesive institutional structures. In the New Model there will always be two aspects to any vow: how it affects and is part of the life of the community as a whole; and how it affects and directs the life of the individual. It is important to see that the vows are primarily commitments to a certain style of life and to cer-tain values and priorities made by the whole community. The individ-ual's vows, then, are the taking on of these group commitments, and mak-ing personal decisions to facilitate these. So when the individual makes vows, she or he is vowing to enter fully into the vows of the whole com-munity, and making a commitment to come to see one's own identity in terms of the others. In one sense there is only one vow, namely the community's vow to enter into an obediential relationship to the Father after the example of Jesus, based on an unconditional trust in the providential care of the Father. This vow then will be most clearly manifest in the community's commitment to poverty. Obedience in this model is first and foremost trust in God. But be-cause of this it is experienced as a trust in and openness to the whole com-munity. In this sense, obedience means essentially "to listen" (from the Latin root), and is most fully expressed by the term integrity. For the in-dividual this means that one make the community the priority in one's life, and, therefore, the person should grow, develop, and make deci-sions in true dialogue with the whole community. It means that each per-son forms and informs his or her life by the interpersonal relationships that are experienced as community. As a group, obedience is the commitment to never let institutional structures pass for common life or take the place of true listening, dis-cernment, and consensus building. In other words, it is the commitment to an ongoing and interpersonal dialogue, which is a group commitment, out of love, to live with a certain amount of ambiguity and tension in their lives, even at the expense of efficiency and cohesiveness. The com-munity and the individual fundamentally commit themselves to be open to the Spirit, and to be fully charismatic in the truest sense. Rigid con-formity, mediocre efforts, institutional paralysis, unimaginative and un-creative problem solving, and impersonal decision-making would all be Seen as violations of this vow. Poverty is seen by the whole community as the test and sign of its A Trinitarian Model of Religious Life unconditional trust in God. This vow is based on the assumption that the radical sharing of worldly goods is the fundamental and practical test of both the individual's and community's faith. So this vow on the part of the individual is the commitment to a complete sharing of wealth and re-sources with the others in the community and with those outside of it. It is a vow to hold nothing back. Furthermore, it is the commitment to work, not so that one may accumulate wealth or find personal gratifica-tion, but so that through work one may share with others, and produce fruits to share with others. On the part of the group, poverty is likewise a commitment to a radi-cal form of hospitality that excludes no one in principle, and where pri-ority for sharing is based on need. It also means that the whole commu-nity will work as a way of sharing, and so that it will have something to share. Group "navel-gazing" that does not end in service, wasting money and service on those who do not need it, over-planning for the future security of the group, spending money for services that the group could perform for themselves, and an inability to let go of past successes are all violations of this vow. Celibacy is the vow that facilitates the radical self-donation of one-self to a number of other people, so it is first of all the vow to give one-self fully and personally to the others in the community. As such, it nec-essarily requires that the person forego any fundamentally exclusive re-lationships and the types of physical intimacy that are proper to these. This does not mean a denial of intimacy, affection, and personal rela-tionship-- one is actually committed to these in self-donation--but one chooses to find these and enter into these within the context of commu-nity. This then is the central predisposition of the trinitarian model of com-munity: the choice to seek interpersonal fulfillment in a non-exclusive but fully intense way through community with others. As a community this vow is the commitment of the whole to each person, and to the extension of hospitality to include a personal open-ness to all. So it is a commitment to be inclusive communities that offer human relationship unconditionally to all. Simply living together with a "boarding-house" mentality, refusing to reach out to and even chal-lenge the alcoholic or any dysfunctional member, passive-aggressive be-havior, and remaining separate and distant from people outside of the com-munity would all be violations of this vow. III) Common Life and Institutional Structures As alluded to earlier, in the New Model common aspects of the com-munity life (prayer, study, various practices, and so forth) and the un-derlying institutional structures which support these (constitutions, rules, 39 / Review for Religious, January-February 1990 authority structures, government apparatus) are not equivalent to the com-munity, but arise out of it and are meant to serve it. So no elements of the common life are absolute and unchangeable in principle. It is impor-tant to point out, however, that although the institutional structures in the New Model are fluid and open to change, there are some things that they must necessarily exclude. Leadership in this model of community is always a service to the whole that is exercised cautiously and humbly. Any authority structure within the community, therefore, must begin with an unequivocal rejection of a worldly view of power, particularly those models that arise out of a militaristic worldview. Furthermore, there can be no caste systems in community life--seniority, clericalism, and elitism are all worldly views of power. Everyone who has made an explicit commitment to the community has an equal share in and respon-sibility to the common life. So authority structures must always reflect this reality, and must always be open to revision and challenge. In both models the greatest threat to unity is dissent. In the Old Model, dissent was usually seen in impersonal terms, as in dissent from some aspect of common life. To disagree with a superior, to not observe a certain practice, or to disregard a certain law were all acts that were understood to be disunifying. The key in this model then was to mini-mize dissent by insisting on complete, even mindless, conformity on a very practical level to a certain core of ideas and practices. In the New Model dissent is seen in more personal terms as a break-down of the interpersonal bonding and as dysfunctionality. The main source of dissent is the attitudes of persons within the group towards one another. This type of dissent will often hide behind superficial agreement or conformity, but operates at a deeper level to poison relationships and undermine unity. The approach here though is to confront dissent as part of the ongoing need for conversion and repentance for the whole com-munity. This highlights then the absolute need for consent in this model, and particularly for an ongoing process of building consent or consen-sus. So the main emphasis is not minimizing dissent, it is maximizing consensus, which in turn requires that the community be willing to con-front and challenge dissent in a personal and constructive way. IV) Mission and Ministry In the Old Model mission and ministry were the primary focus of re-ligious life in general, and of one's individual vocation in particular. Com-munity, then, had a secondary role and was seen essentially as a means of facilitating mission. The dominant understanding of vocation was that one was called to a certain mission (namely to follow Jesus), and so one A Trinitarian Model of Religious Life / 33 was called to do certain things. One then was to choose a lifestyle that best accommodated and supported what it was that one wanted to do. One chose a community because it best enabled the work that one wanted to do. So community was formed for a certain reason or purpose, namely, because it was the most efficient and practical means to share resources, pool talents, and consolidate authority in order to get a cer-tain mission accomplished. The vows of celibacy and poverty, for in-stance, were often seen in this light: community made possible the kind of work one wanted to do. So this model generally understood mission in an individualistic sense, and mainly valued community for its func-tional role. In the New Model one does not live in community to facilitate work or mission; one lives in community and, therefore, can work and be sent on mission. Community is always primary and chosen for its own sake. Community is chosen because of the people involved; it is the decision to share one's life in a particular way with others. Here the trinitarian emphasis of this model is most helpful. The Trin-ity does not come together in order to create and go on mission. It is in-stead just because of the radical unity and self-donation of the persons to one another that they can create and be sent. The missions of Jesus and the Holy Spirit are the models here. Missions always reveal some-thing about the senders, and what the Son and Holy Spirit communicate simply is their shared life with the Father. It is precisely their shared life that they invite us into. In other words, the senders are essential; there is no mission without being sent. So it is because one lives in community, and because of the graced transformation of experience that this entails, that one feels empowered to go out. And what is shared when one is "out" is precisely the fruits of the common life. Because the Christian community is by nature a char-ismatic community, there are a variety of gifts to be shared. Furthermore, each community, because of its shared vital identity with a particular foun-der, will have a particular charism which both grows out of and shapes the development of the community life. It is then the radical self-donation conversion that sends a person out. So through conversion each person is always moving into wider circles of community. The religious community is in turn sent by the wider Christian community, and so it has a message and a mission also. Under this model, community is experientially prior to mission, and is in fact its source. In the actual life of the community, however, both will be mutually dependent and interrelated. In this sense though, very 34 / Review for Religious, January-February 1990 individualistic types of spirituality, even those that allow for some form of community, are called into question. In regard to vocation, this means that one's vocation is primarily understood as taking on the mind of Christ and thereby coming into contact with the life of God within one, and of being called by this realization into relationship with others in a new way. In the context of this new relationship one is sent out to oth-ers. The point is that for those who choose to live in religious commu-nity it is community itself which is the vocation--it is the call. The spe-cific mission or function that one takes on within this context is really the call of or from the community. This call is the claim that members of the community have on one another by virtue of their mutual self-donation. This raises the question of the place of ordination within the reli-gious community. In the Old Model a specific type of work was often seen as the primary vocation, and, therefore, the community was there to support and enhance ordination. The levels of participation within the community were generally based upon the work one did, and so the or-dained occupied a higher level in the communal structure. So ordination tended to be divisive and obscured the priority of the communal life. In the New Model interpersonal relationships are primary. The vo-cation of the religious is to community, and it is primarily the commu-nity as a whole that is sacramental. It is the community which sends the person to do a particular type of work or to function in a particular ca-pacity. Ordination, then, comes from the community and is based both on the needs which the community perceives and on the gifts of the in-dividuals within the community. Ordination, however, is not the indi-vidual's sole possession; it is proper to the whole community and is dele-gated to one or another member as circumstances require. Furthermore, ordination can never be divisive; it can never change one's status within the community; it can only change one's function. Conclusion Those who look upon God as a metaphysical monad flee society to dwell alone with the Alone. [but] those who look upon the reality of God as the perfection of interpersonal communion will discover the divine in community.6 Our vision and image of God is ultimately the matrix around which we shape our lives. Who we are and how others experience us says more about the God we believe in than all the theological discourse we can of-fer. When confronting the challenge, therefore, of redefining our lives A Trinitarian Model of Religious Life so as to be prophetic witnesses to the gospel, the most fundamental ques-tion we must ask ourselves is, "Who is our God?" Likewise, when we truly come to know this God the primary question we must ask is not "What ought I do?" It is instead "Who ought we be?" NOTES J Robert Bellah et al, Habits of the Heart: Individualism and Commitment in Ameri-can Life (Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1985). 2 For a more detailed discussion of the development of trinitarian doctrine see par-ticularly Jurgen Moltmann, The Trinity and the Kingdom (San Francisco: Harper & Row Publishers, 1981); Robert Jenson, The Triune Identity (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1982); and Donald Gelpi, S.J., The Divine Mother: A Trinitarian Theology of the Holy Spirit (Lanham: University of America Press, 1984). 3 Gelpi, op. cit., pp. 13 ! - 132. 4 Moltmann, op. cit., pp. 174-176; Gelpi, op. cit., p. 132. 5 For a further discussion on the role of the Holy Spirit in the Godhead see Gelpi, op. cit., particularly chapter 3. 6 lbid, p. 140. In-Depth Wisdom A tree climbs to the heights because of roots concealed; Waves break in beauty on the shores for there are depths unseen; Mountains rise in loveliness on rock, set fold on fold; Lest we forget as we grow old. Philomena Mary, S.N.J.M. 1420 Mount Royal Blvd. Outremont, Quebec, Canada H2V 2J2 Community--- A Multi-Dimensional Reality Jeanne Knoerle, S.P. Sister Jeanne Knoerle, S.P., is identified with Woods Associates, consultants to non-profit organizations in strategic planning, management, and marketing. Her address is Saint Mary-of-the-Woods; Indiana 47876. Several bits and pieces of experience have coalesced recently to tempo-rarily part some of the mists shrouding my understanding of the word and the reality of community within a religious congregation. They have con-tributed for me what our old Rational Psychology professor, Father McGinnis, would call an "intellectual aha," and I would like to share them. The first piece of experience contributing to this "aha" has grown from my confusion and unclarity about what it means to be a woman re-ligious, committed to a life lived in community. This is not a recent con-fusion. It has been with me (and I know with many others) for some years and is an ambiguity and tension that has been alternately energiz-ing and creative as well as enervating and destructive. So much so that I have come to see the word "community" as representing a reality with so many possible understandings and so many modalities of expression that it has become almost useless as a representation of a concept. Often a group of religious tries to get at its meaning by eliminating all the things it apparently is not--physical things like sharing a com-mon dwelling, sharing common work, doing things together--hoping that in identifying what it is not, they will more easily be able to move to a definition of what it is. When the group does move to trying to define what it is, they often identify it as an invisible bond which ties a group of people together 36 Community---A Multi-Dimensional Reality around shared values, seeing it as expressed not so much in physical to-getherness but in commonness of purpose, in a shared history, in a be-lief in a common tradition. In reality, however, what I find myself doing most of the time is vac-illating between those two extremes, momentarily satisfied but never fully at peace with either. One seems too dependent on a narrow con-ception which can be counted and measured and made explicit. The other seems too vague and unclear, susceptible of such a wide range of inter-pretation as to offer no possibility of an objective, shared reality. I come away with a sense that each of those extremes offers a piece of the truth, an insight into the constantly shifting dynamics of community, but that ultimately there must be some other, fuller definition that incorporates some aspects of each of them. A second bit of experience which led to these reflections has come from my further study of the Enneagram, a personality theory which iden-tifies three interior centers from which individuals draw their energy to cope with the realities of their life. These centers--the head or percep-tual center, the heart or relational center, and the gut or instinctual cen-ter- are each operative within every individual, and are each important to the development of the total human person.Yet each of us comes to favor using one of them over the other two, drawing from it the primary energy for our response to life. Dealing more deeply with this system and how it operates within the life of individuals has enabled me to more effectively step aside and ob-serve the patterns of my own and others' attitude toward life. It has given me a sense of understanding, tolerance, and acceptance of behavior that earlier I had been confused about and often judgmental of. And it has enabled me to see more clearly patterns in the motivations of individu-als and groups where before I had focused primarily on disparate actions. A major spin-off has been to provide me with a more coherent un-derstanding of the wide variations in the ways in which members of a religious community see and respond to the same stimuli. That people responded very differently was surely evident in the past. There were those who thoroughly enjoyed and anticipated the challenge of study in the summer, and those who dreaded the vei'y thought of summertime be-cause it meant they had to study. There were those who loved to volun-teer for infirmary duties and those who hated to. Those who loved most to party, and those who loved most to pray. Why they did so and why I personally responded in the way I did was not so clear. Because the Enneagram is a system built on trying to Review for Religious, January-February 1990 understand the constantly shifting dynamics of the human personality, the answers it provides to "why" we act the way we do are neither sim-ple nor clear-cut, but they do at least provide an overall pattern against which to make some judgment. The third piece of experience I bring to this moment comes from the variety of reading in theology, ecclesiology, and ethics that I have re-cently undertaken, but especially from Avery Dulles' recent book The Reshaping of Catholicism. Father Dulles' book helped to put some, though by no means all, of my frustrations into perspective. It helped sort out and clarify the mean-ing of many of the concepts and experiences which have been so much a part of Catholicism since Vatican II. But the particular insight he presented which connects to the chal-lenge I described earlier, that of defining community, I found in his chap-ter on the Extraordinary Synod of i 985. There, in explaining the themes which emerged from that synod and which were incorporated into its pub-lished Report, Dulles described three schools of thought which existed among the delegates: the neo-Augustinian school which tended to depict the Church as an island of grace in a world given over to sin; the com-munitarian school which tended to depict the Church as the human face of God on earth, in trouble now because of the failure of conservative prelates to carry out the reforms of Vatican II; and the liberation school which depicted the Church as in possession of the wisdom of God and which, therefore, must be politically involved if it is to carry out the work of the kingdom. The neo-Augustinians, putting their accent on worship and holiness, wanted a Church more committed to the cultivation of spiritual union with God. The communitarians, putting their accent on more humanis-tic issues, wanted a Church more involved in the promotion of peace and reconciliation. The liberationists, sharing neither the sacralism of the Augustinians nor the secular optimism of the communitarians, wanted a Church that was confrontational and militant. The Synod dealt with these three points of view, but the commitment of the drafters of the document was not to a presentation of varying points of view and to a clear identification of their points of disagree-ment. Rather the emphasis was on integration, on interrelationship, on allowing the variety of colors to be mixed together on the canvas like a Monet painting, rather than to be identified separately like a rainbow. Therefore, the final Report incorporated concerns of all of these groups, but with none clearly in the ascendance. Community--A Multi-Dimensional Reality/39 Dulles quotes the following marvelous sentence, artfully crafted to incorporate the ultimate wholeness which grew from the conflicting worldviews of all of those schools: "The Church as communion is the sacrament for the salvation of the world." It was that discussion about the schools of thought that existed in the Synod, and especially that sentence which seemed so beautifully to cre-ate a whole out of three disparate expressions of the truth, which began to push a pattern more insistently into the forefront of my mind. While the community of a gathering of bishops and the community of a religious congregation are certainly very different entities, and in many ways are not analagous, they do share the reality of being a group of people in relationship to one another, who share a common purpose, a common mission, and a common tradition. Theirs is a more ephem-eral relationship--they are not together often, nor with regularity, nor as a group do they have a specific, ongoing common task beyond the one they are presently fulfilling, though they do share the general task of mak-ing the word of God present in the world through their work as bishops. Nonetheless, it seems to me we can see the conflictual issues of com-munity mirrored fairly clearly in the three schools of thought which ex-isted at the Synod and which were so clearly delineated by Father Dul-les. And those schools fit with a fair amount of cohesion into the three types of centers which are basic to the theory of the Enneagram. The neo-Augustinians, like those approaching life from the head cen-ter, tend to approach things perceptually, more frequently using their in-tellect and their powers of observation to solve the problems of life, be-ing less intensely involved than those in the other centers. Hence they more clearly see the other-worldly aspects of religious life and feel less pressure to commit the community to becoming involved in the concerns of the world, and more pressure to see that it retains its sense of being an effective instrument of salvation. The communitarians, like those approaching life from the heart cen-ter, tend to approach things from the point of view of relationships, con-cerned always with how they relate to others and how others relate to one another. Without a sense of relationship they have difficulty feeling the life in them, and are, therefore, much more concerned with the world outside them than with the world within them. Hence they focus most comfortably on the human aspects of the work of the community. The liberationists, on the other hand, like those approaching life from the gut center, have an instinctual feeling about the World; they have a kind of built-in sense of knowing, the source of which is not al- 40 / Review for Religious, January-Februao, 1990 ways clear, but the force of which is powerful. Hence they have a strong belief in the responsibility of the community to bring justice into the world, to use its resources and its life to make the world more right. Let me use myself as an example. As a person whose energy comes from the heart or relational center, I am most comfortable in the com-munitarian school, concerned with how we as members of a community can better relate to one another and how our religious community can best help other human beings be better, holier, happier, more complete persons. During the last few years I have begun gradually to integrate some of the rico-Augustinian or perceptual worldview more fully into my own, however. Becoming concerned that I had put too much emphasis on the outer world of action, I have consciously attempted to develop the inner, more spiritual aspects of my person. And now I sense in-creased energy emanating from the head center as well. Where I feel least comfortable, however, is in the liberation school. I know intellectually that to become fully integrated I must learn to trust (perhaps even more fundamentally to get in touch with) my instincts. I know I must learn that to touch and release my anger will not interfere with my relationships. I know I must be better able to integrate and act out of my instinctual center, as I have begun to integrate and act out of my perceptual center. Yet I find this center most out of my range of ex-perience and significantly harder to reach. I think each of us--whatever our approach to life--has the same strug-gle. If we want to become more personally integrated, if we want ulti-mately to create a more mature community, we must perceive, then tol-erate, then understand, then fully accept the differing approaches to life which result from using the energy of each of these centers. We must attempt to identify what worldview is ours and, without imposing it as the best and only one, contribute that piece of truth to the Monet canvas of community. But we must also acknowledge what piece of truth we find hardest to accept and struggle to incorporate it more fully into our view of reality. We must acknowledge, if we operate as neo-Augustinians from the head of perceptual center, our discomfort level when the community seems to over-stress a commitmeni to human development, leaving the spiritual aspect of our lives unstressed. We must acknowledge, if we operate as communitarians from the heart or relational center, our discomfort level when we are asked to ap-prove the taking of a community stand, thereby moving to publicly sepa-rate us from others rather than to positively underscore the bonds which Community--A Multi-Dimensional Reality draw human beings together. We must acknowledge, if we operate as iiberationists from the gut or instinctual center, our discomfort level when the community stresses the eschatological, the importance of the kingdom of heaven and the life of the other world, rather than the impor!ance of confronting the evil in this world and the need to see that justice is accomplished in the present. In each case, however, if community is to mirror the full dimensions of our humanness, we must acknowledge that each approach to life does have a piece of the truth. And we must be willing to contribute our own piece of the truth, holding on to it and placing it on the canvas. Then stand back to see the full picture which we have helped to create, accept-ing the contribution of the other truths as well as our own to that full-ness. Developing the fullness of that picture is what community is all about. And since, perhaps more than at any other time in history, com-munity is a concept that is ambiguous, even anomalous, we must be will-ing, as the drafters of the synod document were of the concept of Church, to seek among us a creative and dynamic peace about how we perceive and live it. As we now live in religious communities, however,, it seems to me that we too often speak the words of power than of peace. We fail to en-ter the world of those with whom we share the reality of community, talk-ing too often instead from the protection of our own shell, not really hear-ing, not really understanding the words of those who speak from another worldview. Our primary goal is too often the imposition of our own. Let me return to the initial insight which prompted these reflections-- that the word community has come to mean so many things that it has become almost useless as the representation of a concept. I would like now to modify that insight somewhat to say rather that community is a such multifaceted concept that it can only be captured by allowing its defi-nition to be pluriform. It is perhaps most analagous, not to a Monet paint-ing, but to a hologram---offering only one specific facet to the eyes of the viewer at a given time, yet only complete When seen in its full three dimensions. Perhaps if we can come 'to see our third of the truth reflected in that hologram, together with the other dimensions of the truth we less clearly identify with, we can better allow ourselves to say yes to the varying ex-pressions of community. And at the same time we can come to agree-ment that no one expression is sufficient for the whole. To begin this process, we need to name and claim our own 49 / Review for Religious, January-February 1990 worldview, so that it becomes objectified and clear. Then we need to hear others name theirs, and accept the authenticity of their vision as well as ours. Only then can we proceed. For example, from my relational center, from my communitarian worldview, some physical togetherness, some living or working or be-ing together, seems to me to be clearly implicit in the very word com-munity. I have difficulty understanding the more ethereal co.ncept of com-munity which is sometimes outlined in the perceptual or neo-Augus~inian view--that community is a form of bondedness which need not be ex-pressed in our being i.ogether, but rather in our somehow feeling that we are together. And I have even greater difficulty with the instinctual or liberationist concept of community as being strengthened by being against something or someone else. That simply is how I perceive community. It does not mean that I believe I hold the only truth about it. It does not negate other concepts or understandings of community. It simply means that if we ultimately define community without including some aspect ofphysical together-ness I will have little ability to relate to that definition, nowhere to hang on to it. It will not fit within my worldview. I need to correct the narrowness of my vision, not by letting go of it, not by some grand gesture of surrender or denial which will ultimately lead to my feeling at the margins of community or, even worse, alien-ated from it. I need to proffer my piece of truth and then seek to broaden my vision and deepen my understanding of community by seriously study-ing the truths offered by others, ultimately respecting their view of real-ity as much as I respect my own. If we were all to do that in mutual respect for each other's view of what community is, while the resulting hologram of community might not be totally satisfying to any one of us, it could instead offer us a rich and full opportunity to explore and live out its multifaceted reality dur-ing the rest of our lives. Dyads and Triads: The Sociological Implications of Small-Group Living Arrangements Patricia Wittberg, S.C. Sister Patricia Wittberg, S.C., is an Assistant Professor in the Department of Soci-ology and Anthropolgy at Fordham University. Her address is Department of Soci-ology and Anthropology; Fordham University; Bronx, New York 10458. As the number of active members in religious congregations becomes smaller, and as these members become involved in more varied and dis-persed ministries, it is increasingly common to find religious living sin-gly or in groups of two or three. While the personal.and communal im-plications of individuals living alone have been examined to some ex-tent,~ the special social dynamics of pairs and other very small groups have been less frequently considered. Usually, groups of religious larger than one but smaller then eight or ten are treated together under the head-ing "small group living," with little consideration for the special char-acteristics which groups of two or three might have. It would, however, be a valuable exercise to examine these special characteristics, since the recent experience of many congregations has uncovered regular patterns in them. Some "pair" living arrangements--or dyads, as they are also called--have remained stable for years or even decades within a congre-gation, resisting the efforts of community leaders or of the dyadic pair themselves to add a third person. Conversely, groups of three religious (triads) are often unstable, repeatedly splitting into pair and a singleton. The stability of pair members or the frequent group-switching of thirds have sometimes been attributed by others to unhealthy tendencies in the individuals involved--immaturity, perhaps, or excessive dependency. So- 43 44/Review for Religious, January-February 1990 ciologists, however, have found that it is often the mere fact of belong-ing to a group of a given size that elicits certain behaviors from an indi-vidual, independently of his or her personal psychological character-istics. This article will summarize the writings of the German sociolo-gist Georg Simmel on the characteristics of dyads and triads, and will draw some tentative implications of these studies for religious who live in small groups. It is important to emphasize that Simmel viewed his work on the nu-merical composition of groups to be a sort of "geometry of human rela-tions." Just as the properties of a circle or a triangle remain constant whether the actual figure is made of paper or of wood, so the social dy-namics of dyads and triads are inherent in themselves, Simmel thought, regardless of the individuals involved. It is, of course, possible that the members of a particular dyad or triad can disregard the tendencies at-tached to number, especially if they are aware of them. It is also possi-ble that a common ideological commitment, such as the vows in relig-ious life, may override the effects of a given number, to some extent. But the underlying dynamics will still exist, and will result in certain com-mon patterns when many groups are examined. The Dyad A dyad, Simmel stated, is different from all other groups, in that, while outsiders may see it as a unit, from the inside each member sees only the other person, and not a supra-individual collectivity.2 If either individual should leave, the dyad would cease to exist. Each member thus feels herself and her partner to be indispensable, since "for its life the dyad needs both; for its death only one.''3 The dyad is, therefore, more conscious of the possibility of group dissolution, and feels "both endangered and irreplaceable." Dyadic relations are also characterized by greater intimacy than larger groups--it is the uniqueness of these two particular individuals that gives the dyad its special flavor and which can often become "the core value and chief matter of its existence."4 Since only one other.individual besides oneself composes a dyad, the group "does not attain that super-personal life" which the individual feels to be independent of his presence and participation.5 Dyad mem-bers are unable to delegate responsibility to "the group," to expect things from "the group," or to let "the group" get away with some-thing. In a larger group, by contrast, an individual may fail to develop ownership of group decisions, or may passively benefit from her mem-bership with a minimum of personal contributions. Dyads and Triads Dyadic Living Relationships in Religious Life There are both positive and negative implications of the dynamics of dyadic relationships in religious life. On the positive side, dyadic liv-ing encourages the personal assumption of responsibility for the quality of group living. If the house i~ dirty or if common prayer is neglected, there is no one to blame but oneself and one other individual. Dyadic living has also been a fruitful way for religious to develop their ability to achieve intimacy and individual growth,6 psychological capacities that were often stunted in the large institutional living arrangements of for-mer decades. Other aspects of dyadic interactions, however, have at least the potential for negative effects--both for the congregation as well as for the individuals involved. Since the departure of either member de-stroys a dyad, an individual religious living in such an arrangement may have to do a sort of "dual discernment" when considering a ministerial change: taking into consideration both whether it is time for himself to move on as well as whether it is a good time for his dyadic partner to have to find a new living arrangement. For this reason, dyads tend to be the most stable of small groups. Since stability, uniqueness, and intimacy are inherent in the dyadic form, the individuals living in dyads may not necessarily have psycho-logically unhealthy traits, even if they remain together longer than out-siders would deem wise. For those who do have such traits, however, dyadic living will exacerbate them. Furthermore, a mutual dependency may develop within the dyad over time, even if none existed initially. For dyad members who are or have become excessively dependent on each other, dissolution of the dyad (by death or serious illness, for ex-ample) will cause intense psychological distress. There is also evidence that dyadic living can be detrimental to the larger congregation. This is true whether the congregation is following the traditional "intentional community" model or one of the newer as-sociational forms. In an intentional community, members are bound to-gether by a common religious ideology which encourages the subordi-nation, at least in some key instances, of the individual to the larger group.7 Previous research on intentional communities has shown that dy-adic attachments often erode this group loyalty, which is the essential foundation of the communal lifestyle.8 For this reason, successful inten-tional communities have always included some mechanism either to elimi-nate dyads or to subordinate them. Sometimes the suppression of dyads has been heavy-handed and psychologically destructive, as in the at-tempts to eliminate "particular friendships" in pre-Vatican II religious 46 / Review for Religious, January-February 1990 life, and at times it has led to unusual patterns such as the forced adop-tion of "group marriage" in the Oneida community. By whatever means, however, no intentional community has ever survived that has allowed dyadic attachment to develop unhindered.9 Many religious congregations, of course, have discarded the inten-tional community model and have adopted a looser form of association. One such model which has been recently advanced is that of "mission" as the uniting principle behind a community. Religious may live and work in widely scattered situations and yet still consider themselves bound together by the shared missionary vision of their founder: Community is not the living situation. It is not all going to Great Amer-ica together, it is not dressing alike, and it is not working in the same facility. Community is the result of our bondedness around a common mission, Christ's mission, the kingdom, according to the spirit and charism of our founder or foundress as experienced in this particular group. ~0 But the very intimacy and uniqueness inherent in the dyad can often eclipse this dedication to mission and attenuate any mission-based bonds to the larger group. If this happens, the dyad will stagnate at the self-absorbed stage which Wombacher says is a danger to those individuals and groups which fail to go outside of themselves in true generative and creative service of others. ~ A dyad that has been extremely stable for a long period of time may make it very difficult for its members to sum-mon the courage to move on. There may be instances where both mem-bers attempt to move together; such endeavors are subject to the same difficulties that married professionals often face in locating two suitable jobs in the same area. This would detract from the mission-bonded con-gregation's ideal of following the leading of the Spirit into the works most needed by the People of God. To the extent that stable dyads form in religious life, therefore, the community--whether a close-knit intentional community or a mission-based association--may be less able to count on the loyalty of its mem-bers. This is especially true since other social mechanisms are simulta-neously conspiring to keep the dyad an exclusive "twosome." The fol-lowing section will consider the addition of third members to a dyad, and the reasons for the instability of this new living arrangement. The Triad There is a qualitative difference between a dyad and a triad; adding a fourth or fifth member to a group does not change it nearly as much Dyads and Triads as adding the third. ~2 For the first time, it becomes possible in a triad for each group member to have two kinds of relationships with the oth-ers: a direct (A~)C) and an indirect (A~)BtbC) one. In a triad, a majority can out vote an individual member, and it becomes possible for the indi-vidual to envision the group existing after her departure. Division be-comes possible among the members: A and B may share some experi-ence, idea, or interest that C does not, while B and C may have some-thing in common that A does not have. This may lead to shifting alli-ances or interest groups, a situation that was impossible in a dyad. Se-crets, too, become possible in triads, and one member may be excluded, to a greater or lesser extent, from group activities. Also, if the original dyadic partners were unequal in some way, adding a third disrupts the subordinate/superordinate relationship---either by increasing the distance between the superordinate and the two subordinates, or by making it pos-sible for the subordinates to combine against the superordinate. Special group roles are also possible in a triad, which could not ex-ist before. Since "there is no triad in which dissent among two of the elements does not occur from time to time," ~3 the third member may be-come a mediator, who can be impartial because she is not involved with either or also is equally involved with both. Another new role is the Ter-tius Gaudens (Rejoicing Third), who profits by maintaining a division between the other two. There are two ways of benefiting from strife among one's fellow members: one can actively pursue some otherwise forbidden interest while the others are preoccupied, or one can passively allow oneself to be showered with gifts as the contending parties com-pete for one's support. To the extent that the tertius has less personally involved in the dispute, he is in a stronger position than the other two, and it may be to his advantage to perpetuate this situation. Finally, the third member may actually employ the tactic of "divide and conquer"-- producing conflict in order to break up an incipient coalition. The dis-ruptive effects of secrets, ~he exclusion of one or another member, re-joicing thirds and divide and conquer tactics mean that, if the dyad is an especially stable group form, the triad is an especially unstable one. Dyads and Triads in Religious Life Because of the inherent dynamics of dyads and triads, two religious living together (and perhaps also working together in a common minis-try) often find it difficult to attract a third person to join them or to re-tain a newcomer who has come, even if they sincerely desire to do so. Initially, this difficulty may not depend on the personalities of the indi-viduals involved, but simply on the disruptive effects of adding a third 411 / Review for Religious, January-February 1990 to any dyad. Over time, however, the members of stable dyads also de-velop habits and customs which make it even harder for an outsider to gain entrance, or to feel comfortable once she has. This situation has ob-vious ministerial--and communal--implications. A given school or par-ish may wish to attract new religious workers, yet otherwise interested applicants may be put off by the prospect of joining a preexisting duo. Congregations whose formation programs involve sending prospective members to live on mission with other religious may have difficulty find-ing a place where the new affiliate is not liable to be excluded (however inadvertently) by a dyad or scandalized by the divisions in a triad. Fi-nally, some individuals may gain an undeserved reputation for being hard to live or work with: if a religious tries and fails to break into several successive dyads, or if two dyad members are repeatedly joined by third persons who move out after one year, others in the congregation may as-cribe their difficulties to personal defects on their part. If the failed at-tempts also involve repeated ministerial changes on the part of the per-son joining the dyad, his professional resum6 may suffer. Rapid turn-over may also be a source of scandal to outsiders--lay parishioners, for example, or parents at a school--if the new religious lives apart from the preceding two. Conclusions As religious congregations enter the last decade of the twentieth cen-tury, they will be increasingly faced by the issues which dyadic and tri-adic living arrangements raise. Some communities may wish to avoid the ministerial inflexibility that excessively stable dyads tend to create. For-mation directors may need actively to work for the preservation of larger living arrangements in order to avoid the necessity of placing a novice in a triad. After the novitiate, temporarily professed may find their tran-sition to full community membership and ministry even more stressful if they have to adjust to life with a preexisting pair. On the other hand, joining a single religious (and thus creating a dyad) may result in the young religious beginning this extremely stable living arrangement at the outset of her community life. If dyadic living tends to attenuate the group loyalty even of long-term members, it is all the more likely to do so in new arrivals. Finally, as the members of a dyad age, congregations may find it necessary to provide counseling services when death or serious illness causes the breakup of a pair that has been together for several dec-ades. The obvious solution to difficulties raised by dyad and triad living is to expand the local community to four or five members. This is not Dyads and Triads always possible, however. For one thing, the decreasing number of ac-tive members makes it likely that most ministerial situations will con-tain only a very few religious. This would be especially true in areas out-side of the large cities in the traditionally Catholic Northeast and Mid-west. The trend toward apartment living also fosters dyads and triads, since four- or five-bedroom apartments are rare. In some congregations, a substantial proportion of the members are already in dyadic living ar-rangements, and the community government may lack the tradition of authority to request or require that these grbupings be dissolved. This being the case, dyad and triad living will probably be unavoid-able in religious communities, at least to some extent. There are, how-ever, positive steps which the members of a congregation can take to ad-dress the issues which such arrangements raise. First of all, the records of a community should be investigated, in order to determine whether the abstract predictions of sociological theory about dyads and triads are, in fact, reflected in this particular congregation. Are the living arrange-ments and ministerial placements more stable thaff they were twenty years ago? What is the average size of living groups within the congre-gation? How long, on the average, have dyads been together? How long have triads? The members of larger groups? Which type of living arrange-ment appears to be increasing in frequency? Which types are decreas-ing?~ 4 Once trends have been identified, a congregation may wish to initi-ate a communal discernment process to determine what the effects of dy-ads and triads have been for its members, and whether these effects are desirable or not. The members of dyads and triads, or members who have once tried to join such a living arrangement, could be surveyed for their opinions and insights. Two- or three-person living arrangements could become a topic for chapter or pre-chapter discussion and debate among all the members, since whatever policies a congregation adopts in this regard would have to be owned by the members affected. Some of the possible follow-up actions to this community discern-ment could include the establishment or enlargement of a specific coun-seling or facilitation program to work with the members involved in dy-ads and triads. Triads may choose to make regular and frequent use of a facilitator--perhaps on a biweekly or monthly basis--to alert them-selves to and to deal with instances of divide and conquer, rejoicing thirds, or exclusive factions that may arise. Newly-formed triads-- especially those formed of a previous dyad and a singleton--would be in particular need of this service. Job counseling and placement services 50 / Review for Religious, January-February 1990 may help the members of dyads decide when to move on, and, of course, extensive counseling services would be needed for long-standing dyad members when, as will inevitably happen, illness, retirement or death dissolves their pair. The members of a congregations may decide to place a limit on the number of years that can be spent in a given dyad. Since most congregations no longer intervene so actively in the lives of their members, however, special commur~ity-wide discernment and input would be necessary before such a step would be accepted and owned, especially by the dyads involved. The congregation's leadership would also have to provide information about alternatives--both in living and in ministry--for any pair of its members who did agree to separate and move on. The physical resources available to a congregation should also be ex-amined in the light of what is learned about dyads and triads in the com-munity. In the past decade or so, for example, many parish convents have been closed and either demolished or converted to other uses. Some of these may have been of an ideal size to house a group of five or six. Congregations may wish to identify the houses of the "right size" which are still available, and make arrangements to purchase them, if they do not already own them. Any new living space which is created-- apartment buildings that may be purchased or built, large-scale quarters attached to hospitals or retirement centers that may be modified-- should be created with the effects of dyads and triads in mind. Finally, creative social arrangements may be devised to maintain ties to the larger community in the members of dyads and triads. If a con-gregation has small discussion groups as part of its government process, dyad members may be assigned to different groups. For those orders still involved largely in teaching, summer ministry or vacation opportunities can be advertised, and dyad members urged to avail themselves of dif-ferent opportunities. Dyads and triads living in the same area may be in-terfaced, and perhaps exchange members for a week or even longer. As congregations begin to explore the implications of living in groups of two and three, other practices will doubtless be devised. These should be shared with other communities. Number is not destiny. No inevitable social laws require that a dyad be excessively stable, or that a triad dissolve in acrimony and misunder-standing. As the members of small groups become aware of the tenden-cies involved in their living arrangements, they may be able, with some help from the larger congregation, to deal with the problems that arise. It is hoped that this article will be a first step in the process by which Dyads and Triads religious communities harness the dynamics of dyads and triads and con-vert them to truly life-giving forces for the religious life of the future. NOTES ~ See Sandra Schneider, New Wineskins:Re-imagining Religious Life Today (New York: Paulist Press, 1986), pp. 252-255. 2 Georg Simmel, The Sociology ofGeorg Simmel, trans. Kurt H. Wolff, (New York: Free Press, 1950), p. 123. 3 lbid, p. 124. '~ lbid, p. 126. 5 Ibid, p. 123. 6 Ibid, p. 137. 7 Patricia Wittberg, "Transformation in Religious Commitment," REVIEW FOR RELm~OUS 1985, Vol. 44, pp. 161-167. 8 Benjamin Zablocki, The Joyful Community (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1980), pp. 116-120. 9 Benjamin Zablocki, Alienation and Charisma (New York: Free Press, 1980), p. 289. ~0 Kristin Wombacher O.P., (n.d.) "American Religious Life Since Vatican II: Change and Continuity." Unpublished paper, p. 245. ~ lbid, p. 235. ~2 Simmel, op cit, p. 139. ~3 lbid, p. 148. 14 Please note that this article does not predict that there will be no stable triads in a congregation, merely that these will be relatively few compared to the number of stable dyads. Large, institutional groups of religious may also remain essentially un-changed over the years. This large group stability would be due, however, not to the abstract effects of number, but to the personal inability of the individual mem-bers to move on, whether because of age, psychological inflexibility, or the simple belief that a given congregational work would not survive were they to leave it. Evaluating Religious Community Costs David E. Meier, S.J. Fr. David Meier, S.J., serves as a financial consultor for the Detroit Province of the Society of Jesus. He is also the treasurer of the Jesuit Community at the University of Detroit. His address is Jesuit Community; Lansing-Reilly Hall; University of De-troit; 4001 W. McNichols; Detroit, Michigan 48221-9987. Point of view is a factor in literary evaluation, an element of artistic per-spective, and a determinant of political affiliation. Point of view is equally an essential criterion for determining what is meaningful in any financial assessment. A number of conditions can be identified which affect the financial data being analyzed. Some of these conditions merely color the data, so that a simple new cast of mind, like the addition of a filter on a camera lens, will provide an improved impression. Another condition may be rather like a fun-house mirror, which distorts the data, often so beyond one's normal frame of mind that the data loses all cogency. 1. Point of View--a Perspective When religious superiors are mystified because they do not find mean-ingful comparisons between per member costs of living in their local com-munities, their point of view is frequently at the heart of their mystery. Failure to advert to their perspective is what leads them to ask, "Why can't we get reliable comparisons between the per member costs at St. Agatha and St. Theresa?" Concern for lifestyle quickly introduces estimates for the amounts of money needed for community support under varied assumptions about a standard of living. Often enough the "common sense" expectations 52 Evaluating Religious Community Costs about a reduction in per diems are contradicted in the reality. Later in this article a number of conditions which merely color data will be examined. These should not be allowed to distract religious su-periors from a key condition which actually distorts the data which enter into their decisions. 2. Full CostDMarginai Cost Distinction Religious superiors should be conversant with the economic distinc-tion between full cost and marginal cost. This is the key condition for avoiding distortion in comparing per member costs for various commu-nity sizes. The effect of this distinction is especially significant when deal-ing with small numbers, say three to forty, which is representative of the size of most local religious communities. This distinction brings eco-nomic discernment down from the clouds to the refectory and the com-mon room. Consider, for example, an education community of thirty members which devotes hours of discussion trying to decide whether it is economi-cally preferable to have ten retired members rive apart in a separate com-munity from the twenty active teachers. Another study tries to make economic sense out of establishing a new community for a few retired members in a parish facility which has more room than is needed by the parish personnel. .The approach to these economic determinations will most often be reduced to measuring the per member cost. And here is where the dis-tortion can arise! Are the per member costs to be measured as full cost or marginal cost units? The difference can be of surprising magnitude. 3. Marginal Cost Marginal cost begins at the very edge of full cost. Whatever is the total cost of providing for the housing, food, personal, institutional, and automobile expenses of a 30 member community constitutes the commu

Issue 43.4 of the Review for Religious, July/August 1984. ; Pliz~hhihg :the N~Vitiate Process = °~i"~ !~ta~D o"es a Religious Institute Owe Its Members? :,~-~:: A Retreat for the Eighties Volume 43 Number 4 July/August, 1984 RE\'~w FOR Rl~.~(;~otJs ( ISSN 0034-639X). published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. I.ouis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428:3601 Lindell Blvd.: St. Louis. MO 63108. Rt-:v~l-:w t:oR Rl~t.l~;~otJs is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus. St. Louis. MO. © 1984 by Rl~v~l~w ~:OR Rl~l.l~;~Ot~S, Composed. printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. I.ouis. MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription U.S.A. $10.00 a year: $19.00 for two years. Other countries: add $2.00 per ycar (postage). For subscription orders or change of address, write Rl-:Vll.:W ~-oR R~.:t.t~;~otls: P.O. 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Redemptionis Donum: An Expression of Love for Religious John Paul H In his letter of April 3, 1983, to the bishops of the United States inviting them "to render special pastoral service to the religious" of their dioceses and country, Pope John Paul wrote: ". as pastors of the Church, w~ must proclaim over and over again that the vocation to religious life God gives is linked to his personal love for each and every religious." Redemptionis'Donum is a solemn instance of his own efforts to do just that. As such, it forms a fitting cap to the series of articles REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS has been publishing in recent issu.es in support of.this episcopal ministry to religious. The text which follows is taken from Origins, April 12, 1984, vol. 13: no. 44. Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ Jesus: 1. The gift of the redemption, which this extraordinary Jubilee Year emphasizes, brings with it a particular call to conversion and reconciliation with God in Jesus Christ. While the outward reason for this extraordinary jubilee is of a historical nature--for what is being celebrated is the 1,950th Anniversary of the Crucifixion and Resurrection--at the same time it is the interior motive that is dominant, the motive that is connected with the very depth of the Mystery of the Redemption. The Church was born from that mystery, and it is by that mystery that she lives thrrughout her history. The period of the extraordinary jubilee has an .exceptional character. The call to conversion and reconciliation with God means that we must meditate more deeply on our life and our Christian vocationqn the light of the Mystery of the Redemption, in order to fix that lift and vocation ever more firmly in that mystery. While this call concerns everyone in the Church, in a special way it con-cerns you, men and women religious, who, in your consecration to God through the vows of the evangelical counsels, strive toward a particular fullness of Christian life. Your special Vocation, and the whole of your life in the 481 41~2 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 Church and the world, take their character and their spiritual power from the same depth of the Mystery of Redemption. By following Christ along the "narrow and., hard" way,~ you experience in an extraordinary manner how true it is that "with him is plenteous redemption" (copiosa apud eum redempti.o)? 2. Therefore, as this Holy Year moves toward its close, 1 wish to address myself in a particular way to all of you, men and women religious, who are entirely consecrated to contemplation or vowed to the various works of the apostolate. I have already done so in numerous places and on various occasions, confirming and extending the evangelical teaching contained in the whole of the Church's tradition, especially in the magisterium of the recent ecumenical council, from the dogmatic constitution ~Lumen Gentium to the decree Perfec-tae Caritatis, in the spirit of the indications of the apostolic exhortation Evan-gelica Testificatio of my predecessor Paul VI. The Code of Canon Law, which recently came into force and which can in a way be considered the final conciliar document, will be for all of you a valuable aid and a sure guide in concretely stating the means for faithfully and generously living your magnificent vocation in the Church. 1 greet you with the affection of the Bishop of Rome and Successor of St. Peter, with whom your communities are united in a characteristic way. From the same See of Rome there also reach you, with an unceasing echo, the words of St. Paul: "I betrothed you to Christ, to present you as a pure.bride to her one husband.'~ The Church, which receives, after the apostles, the treasure of marriage to the divine Spouse, looks with the greatest love toward all her sons and daugh-ters who, by the profession of the evangelical counsels and through her .own mediation, have made a special covenant with the Redeemer of the World. Accept this word of the Jubilee Year of the Redemption precisely as a word of love~ spoken by the Ch'urch for you. Accept it, wherever you may be: in the cloister, of the contemplative communities or in the commitment to the many different forms of apostolic service--in the missions, in pastoral work, in hospita!~s or other places where the suffering are served, in educational institu-tions: schools or Universities--in fact in every one of your houses where, "gathered in the name of Christ," you live in the knowledge that the Lord is "in your midst.TM May the Church's loxiing word, addressed to you in the Jubilee of the Redemption, be the reflection of that loving word that Christ himself said to each one of you when he spoke one day that mysterious "follow me"~ fxom which your vocation in the Church began. Vocation And Jesus, Looking Upon Him, Loved Him 3. "Jesus, looking upon him, loved himTM and said to him, "If you would Redemptionis Donum / 48:3 be perfect, go, sell what you have, and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me.'n Even though we know that those words addressed to the rich young man were not accepted by the one being called, their content deserves to b~ carefully reflected upon, for they present the interior structure of a vocation. "And 3esus,~looking upon him, loved him." This is the love of the Redeemer: a love that flows from all the human and divine depths of the redemption. This love reflects the eternal love of the Father who "so loved the World that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.TM ,~ The Son, invested with that love, accepted the mission from the Father .in the Holy Spirit, and became the Redeemer of the World. The Father's love was revealed in the Son as a redeeming love. It is precisely this love that constitutes the true price of the redemption of man and of the world. Christ:s apostles speak of the price of the redemption with profound emotion: "You were ransomed., not with perishable things such as silver or gold, but with the precious blood of Christ, like that of a lamb without blemish or spot," writes St. Peter.9 And St. Paul states: "You were bought with a price."'° The call to the way of the evangelical counsels springs from the interior encounter with the love~ of Christ which is a redeeming love. Christ calls precisely through this love of his. In the structure of a vocation, the encounter with ,this love becomes ,something specifically personal. When Christ "looked upon you and loved you," calling each one of you, dear religious, that redeem-ing love of his was directed toward a particular person, and at the same time, it took on a spousal character: it became a love of choice. This love embraces the whole person, soul and body, whether man or woman, in that person's unique and unrepeatable, personal "1." The one who, given eternally to the Father, "gives" himself in the Mystery of the Redemp-tion, has now called a human person in order that he or she, in turn, should give himself or herself entirely to the work of the redemption through member-ship in a community of brothers or sisters, recognized and approved by the Church. Surely it is precisely to this call that St. Paul's words can be applied: "Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit.? You are not your own; you were bought with a price."~ Y~es, Christ's love has reached each one of you, dear Brothers and Sisters, with that same "price" of the redemption. As a consequence of this, you have realized that you are not your own, but you ~belong to Christ. This ,new awareness was the fruit of Christ's "loving look" into the secret place of your heart. You replied to that look by choosing him who first chose each one of you, calling you with the measurelessness of his. redeeming love. Since he calls "by name," his call always appeals to human freedom. Christ says: "If you wish . "And the response to this call i§, therefore, a free choice. You have chosen Jesus of Nazareth, Redeemer of the World, by choosing the way that he has shown you. tll~4 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 If You Wish to .Be Perfect. 4. This way is also called the, way of perfection. Speaking to the young man, Christ says: "If you wish to be perfect . "Thus theidea of the "way of perfection" has its motivation in the very Gospel source itself. Moreover, do we not hear, in the Sermon on the Mount: "You, therefore, must be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect"?.~2 The calling of man to perfection was perceived in a certain way by the thinkers and moralists of the ancient world, and also afterward, at different periods of history. But the biblical call has a completely original nature. It is particularly demanding when it indicates to man perfection in the likeness of God °himself.~3 Precisely in this form; the call corresponds to the whole of the internal logic of revelation, according to which man was created in the image and likeness of God himself. He must therefore seek the perfection proper to him in the line of this image and likeness. As St. Paul will write in the Letter to the Ephesians: "Therefore be imitators of God as beloved children. And walk in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself upfor us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God."~4 Thus the call to perfection belongs to the very essence of the Christian vocation. It is on the basis of this call that we must also understand the words which Christ 'addressed to the young man in the Gospel. These words are in a particular way linked to the mystery of the redemp-tion of man in the world~ For this redemption gives back to God the work of creation which had been contaminated by sin--showing the perfection which the whole of creation, and in particular man, possesses in the thought and intention of God himself. Especially man must be given and restored to God if heis to be fully restored to himself. From this comes the eternal call: "Return to me, for I have redeemed you.''15 Christ's words, "If you wish to be perfect, go, sell what you have, and give to the poor" clearly brings us into the sphere of the evangelical counsel of poverty--which belongs to the very essence of the religious vocation and profession. At the same time, these words can,be understoodin a wider and, in sense, an essential way. The Teacher from Nazareth invites the person he is address-ing to renounce a program of life in which the first place is seen to be occupied by the category of possessing, of "h'aving," and to accept in its place a program centered upon the value of the human person, upon personal "being"---with all the transcendence that is proper to it. Such an understanding of Christ's words constitutes, as it were, a wider setting for the ideal of evangelical poverty, especially that poverty which, as an evangelical counsel, belongs to the essential content of your mystical marriage with the divine Spouse in the Church. Reading Christ's words in the light of the superiority of "being" over "having," especially if the latter is understobd in a materialistic and utilitarian Redemptionis Donum / 485 sense, we, as it were, touch the very anthropologial bases of vocation in the Gospel. In .the framework of the development of contemporary civilization, this is a particularly relevant discovery. And for this reason, the very vocation to "the way of perfection" as laid down. by Christ becomes equally relevant. In today's civilization, especially in the context of the world of a well-being that is based on consumerism, man bitterly experi¢nces the essential incom-pleteness of personal "being" which affects his humanity because of the abund-antand various forms of "having." He then becomes more inclined to accept this truth about vocation which was expressed once and for all in the Gospel. Yes, the call which you, dear Brothers and Sisters, accepted when you set out on the way of religious profession touches upon the very roots of human-ity, the roots of man's destiny in the temporal world. The evangelical "state of perfection'~ does not cut you off from these roots. On the contrary, it enables you to anchor yourselves even more firmly ih the elements that make man man, permeating this humanity which, in various ways, is burdened by sin, with the divine and human leaven of the Mystery of Redemption. You Will Have Treasure in Heaven " Vocation carries with it th6 answer to the question: Why be a human person--and how? This answer adds a new dimension to the whole of life and establishes its definitive meaning. This meaning emerges against the back-grou'nd of the Gospel paradox of losing one's life in order to save it--and on the other hand, saving one's life by losing it "for Christ's sake and for the sake of the Gospel," as we read in Mark.t6 In the light of these words Christ's call becomes perfectly clear: "Go, sell what you possess ~nd give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me.''t7 Between this "go" and the subsequent "come, follow me'; there is a close connection. It can be said that these latter words determine the very essence of a vocation. For a vocation is a matter of following the footsteps of Christ (sequi: to follow, hence sequela Christi). The terms "go. sell.' give" seem to lay down the precondition of a vocation. Nevertheless, this condition is not "external" to a vocation, but is already inside it. For a person, discovers the new sense of his or her humanity, not only in order "to follow" Christ, but to the extent that he or she actually does follow him. When a person does "sell what he possesses" and "gives it to the poor," he discovers that those possessions, and the comforts he enjoyed, were not the treasure to hold on to. That treasure is in his heart, which Christ makes him capable of"giving" to others b~y the giving of self. The rich person is not the one who possesses, but the one who "gives," the one who is capable of giving. At this point tile Gospel paradox becomes particularly expressive. It becomes a program of being. To be poor in the sense given to this "being" by 4116 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 the Teacher from Nazareth is to become a dispenser of good through one's own human condition. This also means to discover "the treasure." This treasure is indestructible. It passes, together with man, into the dimension of the eternal. It belongs to the divine eschatology of man. Through this treasure man has his definitive future in God. Christ says: "You will have treasuie in.heaven." This treasure is not so much a "reward" after death for the good works done following the example of the Divine Teacher, but rather the eschatological fulfillment of what was liidden in these good works here on earth, in the inner "treasure" of the heart. Christ himself, in fact, when he invited his hearers, in the Sermon on the Mount, ~s to store up treasure in heaven, added: "For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also."~9 These words indicate the eschatological character of the Christian vocation. They indicate even more the eschatological nature of the vocation that is realized through spiritual marriage to Christ by the practice of the evangelical counsels. 6. The structure of this vocation, as seen from the Words addressed to the young man in the synoptic gospels,20 is traced little by little as one discovers the fundamental treasure of one's own humanity in the perspective of that "trea-sure" which man "has in heaven." In this perspective, the fundamental treasure of one's own humanity is connected to the fact of "being, by giving oneself." The direct point of reference in such a vocation is the living person of Jesus Christ. The call to ~the way of perfection takes shape from him, and through him in the Holy Spirit who continually "recalls" to new people, men~and women--at different times of their lives, but especially in their youth--all that Christ "has saidTM and especially what he "said" to the yo.ung man who asked him: "Teacher, what good deed must ! do to h~ve eternal life?"~2 Throughthe reply of Christ, who "looks upon" his questioner "with love," the strong leaven of the Mystery of the Redemption penetrates the consciousness~, heart and will of one who is searching with truth and sincerity. Thus the call to the way of the evangelical counsels always has its begin-ning in God: "You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you that you should go and bear fruit and that your fruit should abide."~3 The vocation in which a person discovers in depth.the evangelical law of giving, a law inscribed in human nature, is itself a gift. It is a gift overflowing with the deepest content of the Gospel, a gift which reflects the divine and human image of the Mystery of the Redemption. "In this is love, not that we loved God, but that he loved us, and sent his Son to be thb expiation for our sins.TM A "Fuller Expression"of Baptismdi Consecration 7. Your vocation, dear Brothers and Sisters, has led you to religious pro-fession, whereby you have been consecrated to God through the ministry of Redemptionis Donum / 487 the Church, arid tiave been at the same time incorporated into your religious family. Hence the Church thinks of you, above all, as persons who are "conse-crated": consecrated to God in Jesus Christ as his exclusive possession. This consecration determines your place in the vast community of the Church, the People of God. And at the same time, this consecration introduces into the universal mission of this people a special source of spiritual and supernatural energy: a particular style of life, witness and apostolate, in fidelity to the mission of your institute and.to its identity and spiritual heritage. The universal mission of the People of God is rooted in the messianic mission of Christ himself--prophet, priest and king--a mission in which all share in different ways. The form of sharing proper to "consecrated" persons corresponds to your manner of being rooted in Christ. The depth and power of this being rooted in Christ is decided precisely by religious profession. Religious p~ofession creates a new bond between the person and the one and triune God in Jesus Christ. This bond develops on the foundation of the original bond that is contained in the sacrament of baptism. Religious profes-sion "is deeply rooted in baptisma.I consecration and is a fuller expression of it.'~ In this way religious profession, in its constitutive content, becomes a new consecration: the consecration and giving of the human person to God, loved above all else. The commitment undertaken by means of the vows to practice the evangelical counsels of chastity, poverty and obedience, according to the determinations proper to each religious family as laid down in the constitutions, is the expression of a total consecration to God and, at the same time, the means that leads to its achievement. This is also the source of the manner proper to consecrated .persons of bearing witness and of exercising the aposto-late. And yet it is necessary :to seek the roots of that conscious and~free consecration and of the subsequent giving of self to God as his possession in baptism, the sacrament that leads us to the~paschal mystery as the apex and center of the redemption ac,~omplished by Christ. Therefore, in order to highlight fully the reality of religious professions, we must turn to the vibrant ~,ords of St. Paul in the Letter to the Romans: "Do you,no~t know. that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, so that like Christ. we too might walk into the newness of life";26 "our old self was crucifiedowith him so that., we might no longer be enslaved by sin";27 so you also must consider yourselves dead to sin and alive to God in Christ Jesus?s Upon the sacramental basis of baptism in which it is rooted, religious profession is a new ~'burial in the death of Christ": new, because it is made with awareness and by choice; new, because of love and vocation; new, by reason of unceasing "conversion." This "burial in death" causes the person "buried together with Christ" to "walk like Christ in newness of life." In Christ crucified is to be found the ultimate foundati,~n both of baptismal consecration 41111 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 and of the profession of the evangelical counsels which--in tile words of the Second Vatican Council--"constitutes a special consecration." It is at one and the same time both death and liberation. St. Paul writes: "Consider yourselves dead to sin." At the same time he calls this death "freedom from the slavery of sin." Above all, though, religious consecration, through its sacramental foundation in holy baptism, constitutes a new life "for God in Jesus Christ." In this way, simultaneously with the' profession of the evangelical counsels, in a much more mature and conscious manner "the old nature is put off," and likewise "the new nature is put on, created after the likeness of God in true righteousness and holiness," to use once more the words of the Letter tothe l~phesians.29 A Covenant of Spousal Love 8. Thus, then, dear Brothers and Sisters--all of you who, throughout the Church, live the covenant of the evangelical counsels-~-renew in this Holy Year of the Redemption your awareness of your special sharing in the Redeemer's death on the cross--that sharing through which ~you have risen with him, and continually rise with him, to a new life. The Lord speaks to each of you, just as he once spoke through the prophet Isaiah: Fear not, for i have redeemed you: ' ~ I have called you by name, you are mine.a0 The evangelical call: "If you would be perfect., follow meTM guides us with the light of the words of the divine Teacher. From th~ depth of the redemption there comes Christ's call, and from that depth it teaches the human soul. By virtue of the grace of the redemption, this saving call assumes in the soul Of the person called the actual form of the professioh of the evangelical counsels. In this.form is contained your answer to the call .of redeeming love, and it is also an answer of love: a love of self-giving--which is the heart of consecration, of the consecration of the person. The words of Isaiah "I have redeemed you., you are mine"--seem toseal precisely this love, which is the love of a total and exclusive consecration to God. This is how the special covenant of spousal love is made, in which we seem to hear an unceasing echo of the words concerning Israel whom the Lord "has chosen as his own possession.'~2 For in every consecrated person the Israel of the New and Eternal Covenant is chosen. The whole messianic People, the entire Church, is chosen in every person whom the Lord selects from the midst of this people; in every person who is consecrated,for everyone, to God as his exclusive possession. While it is true that not even the greatest saint can repeat the words of Christ: "For their sake I consecrate myself"33 in the full redemptive force of these words, nevertheless, through self-giving love, through the offering of Redemptionis Donum / 489 oneself to God as his exclusive possession, each one can, through faith, stand within the radius of these words. Are we not reminded of this by the other words of the Apostle in the Letter to the Romans that we so often repeat and meditate upon: "I appeal to you therefore, brethren, by the mercy of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship"?.34 These words are, as it were, a distant echo of the one who, when he comes into the world and becomes man, says to the Father: "You have prepared a body for me. ~. Lo, I have come to do your will, O God.'~5 In this particular context of the Jubilee Year of the Redemption, let us, then, go back again to the mystery of the body and soul of Christ as the complete subject of spousal and redemptive love--spousal because redemp-tive. For love he offered himself; for love he gave his body "for the sin of the world." By immersing yourselves in the paschal mystery of the Redeemer 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---even as St. Paul invites you to do in the words of the Letter to the Romans just quoted: "To offer your bodies as a sacrifice.'~6 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. And such love should fill each of you, dear Brothers and Sisters, from the very source of thatparticularconsecration which--on the sacramental basis of holy baptism-- is the beginning of your new life in Christ and in the Church: it is the beginning of the new creation. Together with this love, may there grow deeper in each one of you the joy of belonging exclusively to God, of being a particular inheritance of the most Holy Trinity: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Now and then repeat with the psalmist the inspired words: Whom else have I in heaven? And when ! am with you, the earth delights me not. Though my flesh and my heart waste away, God is the'rock of my heart" and my portion foreverP7 Or 1 say to the Lord, My Lord are you. Apart from you I have no good. O Lord, my allotted portion and my cup, You it is who hold fast my lot,3s May the knowledge of belonging to God himself in Jesus Christ, the Redeemer of the World and the Spouse of the Church, seal your hearts39 and all your thoughts, words, and deeds, with the sign of the biblical spouse: As you know, this intimate and profound knowledge of Christ is actuated 490 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 and grows deeper day by day through the life.of personal, community and liturgical prayer proper to each of your religious families. In this, too--and especially so--the men and women religious who are dedicated essentially to contemplation are a powerful aid and a stimulating support for their brothers and sisters devoted to the works of the apostolate. May this knowledge of belonging to Christ open your hearts, thoughts and deeds, with the key of the Mystery of the Redemption, to all the sufferings, needs and hopes of individuals and of the world--in the midst of which your evangelical consecration has been planted as a particular sign of the presence of God, for whom all live,40 embraced by the invisible dimension of this kingdom. The words "Follow me"--spoken by Christ when he "looked upon and loved" each one of you, dear Brothers and Sisters--also have this meaning: you take part, in the most complete and radical way possible, in the shaping of that new creation,4~ which must emerge from the redemption of the world, by means of the power of the Spirit of Truth operating from the abundance of the Paschal Mystery of Christ. Evangelical Counsels The Economy of Redemption 9. Through your profession the way of evangelical counsels opens up before each one of you. In the Gospel there are many exhortations that go beyond the measures of the commandment, indicating not only what is "neces-sary," but what is "better." Thus, for example, the exhortation not to judge,42 to lend "expecting nothing in return,'~3 to comply with all the requests and desires of our neighbor,44 to invite the poor to a meal?5 to pardon always,46 and many other invitations. If, in accordance with tradition, the profession of the evangelical counsels has concentrated on the three points of chastity, poverty and obedience, this usage seems to give clear enough emphasis to their importance as key ele-ments, and, as a kind of "summing up" of the entire economy of salvation. Everything in the Gospel that is a counsel enters indirectly into the pro-gram of that way to which Christ calls when he says: "Follow me." But chastity, poverty and obedience give to this way a particular Christocentric characteristic, and imprint upon it a specific sign of the Economy of Redemption. Essential to this "economy" is the transformation of the entire cosmos, through the heart of man, i'rom within: "For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the sons of God. and will be set free from its bondage to decay, and obtain the glorious liberty of the children of God.'~7 This transformation takes place in step with that love which Christ's call infused in the depths of the individual, in step with that love which constitutes the very substance of consecration: a man or woman's vowing of self to God in religious profession, on the foundation of the sacramental consecration of baptism. Redemptionis Donum / 49"1 We can discover the bases of the economy of redemption by reading the words of the First Letter of St. John: Do not love the world or the things of the world. If anyone loves the world, love for the Father is not in him. For all that is in the world, the lust of the flesh and the lust of the eyes and the pride of life, is not of the Father, but is of the world. And the world passes away, and the lust of it: but he who does the will of God abides forever.'~ Religious profession places in the heart of each one of you, dear Brothers and Sisters, the love of the Father, that love which is in the heart of Jesus Christ, the Redeemer of the World. It is love which embraces the world and everything in it that comes from the Father, and which at the same time tends to overcome in the world everything that "does not come from the Father." It tends therefore to conquer the threefold lust. "The lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes and the pride of life" are hidden within man as the inheritance of original sin, as a result of which the relationship with the world, created by God and given to man to be ruled by him,49 was disfigured in the human heart in various ways: In the economy of redemption the evangelical counsels of chastity, poverty and obedience constitute the most radical means for trans-forming in the human heart this relationship with "the world": with the exter-nal world and with one's personal "1," which in some way is the central part "of the world" in the biblical sense, if what "does not come from the Father" begins within it. Against the background .of the phrases taken from the First Letter of St. John, it is not difficult to see the fundamental importance of the three evangel-ical counsels in the whole economy of redemption. Evangelical chastity helps us to transform in our interior life everything that has it sources in the lust of the flesh; evangelical poverty, everything that finds its source in the lust of the eyes; and evangelical obedience enables us to transform in a radical way that which in the human heart arises from the pride of life. We are deliberately speaking here of an overcoming as a transformation, for the entire economy of the redemption is set in the framework of the words spoken in the priestly prayer to the Father: "1 do not ask you to take them out of the world, but to guard them from the evil one."~0 The evangelical counsels in their essential purpose aim at "the renewal of creation": "The world," thanks to them, is to be subjected to man and given to him in such a way that man himself may be perfectly given to God. Participation in the Self-Emptying of Christ 10. The internal purpose of the evangelical counsels leads to the discovery of yet other aspects that emphasize the close connection of the counsels with the economy of redemption. We know that the economy of redemption finds its culminating point in the paschal mystery of Jesus Christ, in whom there are joined self-emptying through death and birth to a new life through the Resur-rection. The practice of the evangelical counsels contains a deep reflection of this paschal duality;5~ the inevitable destruction of what in each of us is sin and 492 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 its inheritance; and the possibility of being reborn each day to a more pro-found good hidden in the human soul. This good is manifested under the action of grace, toward which the practice of chastity, poverty and obedience renders the human soul particularly sensitive. The entire economy of redemp-tion is realized precisely through this sensitivity to the mysterious action of the Ho!y Spirit, the direct author of all holiness. Along this path the profession of the evangelical counsels opens out in each one of you, dear Brothers and Sisters, a wide space for the "new creation"~z that emerges in your human 'T' precisely from the economy of the redemption and, through this human "I," also into the interpersonal and social dimensions. At the same time it emerges in humanity as part of the world created by God, that world that the Father loved "anew" in the eternal Son, the Redeemer of the World. Of this Son St. Paul says that "though he was in the form of God. he emptied himself, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men."53 The characteristic of self-emptying contained in the practice of the evangelical counsels is therefore a .completely Christocentric characteristic. And for this reason also the Teacher from Nazareth explicitly indicates the cross as the condition for following in his footsteps, He who once said to each one of you "Follow me" has also said: "If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me" (that is to say, walk in my footsteps).54 And he said this to all his listeners, not just to the disciples. The law of renunciation belongs therefore to the very essence of the Chris-tian vocation. But it belongs in a particular way to the essence of the vocation linked to the profession of the evangelical counsels. To those who walk the way of this vocation, even those difficult expressions that we read in the Letter to the Philippians speak in comprehensible language: For him "I have suffered the loss of all things, and count them as refuse, in order that I may gain Christ and be-found in him.'~5 Renunciation therefore--the reflection of the mystery of Calvary--in order "to be" more fully in the crucified and risen Christ; renunciation in order to recognize fully in him the mystery of one's own human nature and to confirm this on the path of that wonderful process of which the same apostle writes in another place: "Though our outer nature is wasting away, our inner nature is being renewed every day.'~6 In this way the economy of the redemp-tion transfers the power of the paschal mystery to the level of humanity, docile to Christ's call to life in chastity, poverty and obedience, that is, to a. life according to the evangelical counsels. Chastity, Poverty, ,Obedience II. The paschal character of this call makes itself known from various points of view in connection with each individual .counsel. Chastity It is indeed according to the measure of the economy of the redemption Redemptionis Donum / 493 that one must also judge and practice that chastity which each of you has promised by vow, together with poverty and obedience. There is contained in this the response to Christ's words, which are at the same time an invitation: "There are eunuchs who have made themselves eunuchs for the sake of the kingdom of heaven. He who is able to receive this, let him receive it. Prior to this Christ has emphasized: "Not all men can receive this saying, but only those to whom it is given."~s These last words clearly show that this invitation is a counsel. To this also the apostle Paul devoted a special reflection in the First Letter to the Corinthians.59 This counsel is addressed in a particular way to the love of the human heart. It places greater emphasis on the spousal character of this love, while poverty and still more obedience seem to emphasize primarily the aspect of redemptive love contained in religious consecration. As you know, it is a question here of chastity in the sense "of making themselves eunuchs for the sake of the kingdom of heaven," a question, that is, of virginity or celibacy as an expression of spousal love for the Redeemer himself. In this sense the apostle teaches that they "do well" who choose matrimony, but they "do better who choose virginity.'~° "The unmarried man is anxious about the affairs of the Lord, how to please the Lord,'~ and "the unmarried woman or girl is anxious about the affairs of the Lord, how to be holy in body and spirit."62 There is contained neither in the words of Christ nor in those of Paul any lack of esteem for matrimony. The evangelical counsel of chastity is only an indication of that particular possibility which, for the human heart, whether of a man or of a woman, constitutes the spousal love of Christ himself, of Jesus the "Lord." "To make themselves eunuchs for the sake of the kingdom of heaven" is not in fact merely a free renunciation of marriage and family life, but a charismatic choice of Christ as one's exclusive spouse. This choice not only specifically enables one to be "anxious about the affairs of the Lord;" but--when it is made "for the kingdom of heaven"---it brings this eschatologi-cal kingdom of God close to the life of all people in the conditions of temporal-ity and makes it in a certain way present in the midst of the world. In this way consecrated persons accomplish the interior purpose of the entire economy of the redemption. For this purpose expresses itself in bringing near the kingdom of God in its definitive, eschatoiogical dimension. Through the vow of chastity consecrated persons share in the economy of the redemp-tion through the free renunciation of the temporal joys of married and family life; on the other hand, precisely by their "having made themselves eunuchs for the sake of the kingdom of heaven," they bring into the midst of this passing world the announcement of the future resurrection63 and of eternal life: life in union with God himself through the beatific vision and the love which contains in itself and completely pervades, all the other loves of the human heart. Poverty 12. How very expressive, in the. matter of poverty, are the words of the 494 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 Second Letter to the Corinthians, which constitute a concise synthesis of all that we hear on this theme in the Gospel: "For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yete for your sake he became poor, so that by his poverty you might become rich.TM According to these words, poverty actually enters into the interior structure of the redemptive grace of Jesus Christ. Without poverty, it is not possible to understand the mystery of the gift of divinity to man, a gift which is accomplished precisely in Jesus Christ. For this reason also it is found at the very center of the Gospel, at the beginning of the message of the eight Beatitudes: "Blessed are the poor in spirit."~5 Evangelical poverty reveals to the eyes of the human soul the perspec-tive of the whole mystery, "hidden for ages in God.'~6 Only those who are "poor" in this way are also interiorly capable of understanding the poverty of the One who is infinitely rich. The poverty of Christ conceals in itself this infinite richness of God; it is indeed an infallible expression of it. A richness, in fact, such as the divinity itself, could not have been adequately expressed in any created good. It can be expressed only in poverty. Therefore it can be properly understood only by the poor, the poor in spirit. Christ; the God-man, is the first of these: He who, "though he was rich became poor," is not only the teacher, but also the spokesman and guarantor of that salvific poverty which corresponds to the infinite richness of God and to the inexhaustible power of his grace. And thus is it also true--as the apostle writes--that "by this poverty we have become rich." It is the teacher and spokesman of poverty who makes us rich. For this very reason he says to the young man.of the synoptic gospels: "Sell what you possess and give . and you will have treasure in heaven.'~7 In these words there is a call to enrich others through one's own poverty. But in the depths of this call there is also hidden the testimony of the infinite richness of God which, transferred to the human soul in the mystery of grace, created in man himself, precisely through poverty, a source for enriching others that is not comparable with any other resource of material goods, a source for bestowing gifts on others in the manner of God himself. This giving is accomplished in the cohtext of the mystery of Christ who "has made us rich by his poverty." We see how this process of enrichment unfolds in the pages of the Gospel, finding its culmination in the paschal event: Christ, poorest in his death on the cross, is also the one who enriches us infinitely with the fullness of new life through his resurrection. Dear Brothers and Sisters, poor in spirit through your evangelical profes-sion, receive into the whole of your lives this salvific profile of the poverty of Christ. Day by day seek its ever greater development! Seek above all "the kingdom of God and his righteousness," and all other things "shall be yours as well.'~8 May there be accomplished in you and through you the evangelical blessedness that is reserved for the poor,69 the poor in spirit!70 Redemptionis Donum/ 495 Obedience 1 3. Christ, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And beingfound in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient unto death, even death on a cross.7~ Here, in these words of the Letter of St. Paul to the Philippians, we touch the very essence of the redemption, In this reality is inscribed, in a primary and constitutive way, the obedience of Jesus Christ. Other words of the apostle, taken this time from the Letter to the Romans, confirm this: For as by one man's disobedience many were made sinners, so by one man's obedience many will be made righteous.72 The evangelical counsel of obedience is the call which derives from this obedience of Christ "unto death." Those who accept this call, expressed by the words "Follow me," decided--as the council says--to follow Christ who "by an obedience which carried him even to death on the cross, redeemed human-ity and made it holy.''73 By living out the evangelical counsel of obedience, they reach the deepest essence of the entire Economy of the Redemption. By ful-filling this counsel, they desire to gain a special sharing in the obedience of that "One alone" by whose obedience all "will be made righteous." It can therefore be said that those who decide to live according to the counsel of obedience are placed in a unique way between the mystery of sin74 and the mystery of justification and salvific grace. They are in this "place" with all the sinful background of their own human nature, with all the inheritance "of the pride of life," with all the selfish tendencies to dominate rather than to serve; and precisely by means of the vow of obedience they decide to be transformed into the likeness of Christ, who "redeemed humanity and made it holy by his obedience." In the counsel of obedience they desire to find their own role in the redemption of Christ, and their own way of sanctification. This is the way which Christ marked out in the Gospel, speaking many times of fulfilling the will of God, of ceaselessly searching for it. "My food is to do the will of him who sent me, and to accomplish his works."75 "Because I seek not my own will but the will of him who sent me."76 "He :who sent me is with me; he has not left me alone, for 1 always do what is pleasing to him.''77 "For I have come down from heaven, not to do my own will, but the will of him who sent me."78 This constant fulfilling of the will of the Father also reminds us of that messianic confession of the psalmist in the Old Testament: "Behold I come; in the written scroll it is prescribed for me. To do 3/our will, O my God, is my delight, and your law is within my heart.''79 This obedience of the Son--full of joy--reaches its zenith in the face of the passion and cross: "Father, if it is your will, take this cup from me; yet not my will but yours be done."s0 From the prayer ~in Gethsemane onward, Christ's 1196 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 readiness to do the will of the Father is filled to the very brim of suffering, becoming that obedience "unto death, even death on a cross" spoken of by St. Paul. Through the vow of obedience consecrated persons decide to imitate with humility the obedience of the Redeemer in a special way. For although sub-mission to the will of God and obedience to his law are for every state a condition of Christian life, nevertheless in the "religious state," in the "state of perfection," the vow of obedience establishes in the heart of each of you, dear Brothers and Sisters, the duty of a particular reference to Christ "obedient unto death." And since this obedience of Christ constitutes the essential nucleus of the work of the redemption, as is seen from the words of the apostle quoted above, therefore also in the fulfilling of the evangelical counsel of obedience we must discern a particular moment in that "economy of the redemption" which pervades your whole vocation in the Church. From this derives that "total availability to the Holy Spirit" who is at work above all in the Church, as my predecessor Paul VI puts it in the apostolic exhortation Evangelica Testificatio,8i a'nd who is likewise manifested in the constitutions of your institutes. From this derives that religious submission which, in a spirit of faith, consecrated persons show to their legitimate superiors Who hold the place of God.82 In the Letter to the Hebrews we find on this theme a very significant indication: "Obey your leaders and submit to them; for they are keeping watch over your souls, as men who will have to give account." And the author of the letter adds: "Let them do this joyfully, and not sadly, for that would be of no advantage to you."~3 On the other hand, superiors will bear in mind that they. must exercise in a spirit of service the power conferred on them through the ministry of the Church, and they will show willingness to listen to their brothers or sisters in order to discern more clearly what the Lord asks of each one. At the same time they retain the authority proper to them to decide and order what they consider appropriatr. Hand in hand with submission-obedience thus conceived goes the attitude of service which informs your whole life after the example of the Son of Man who "came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many."s4 And his mother, at the decisive moment of the annunciation-incarna-tion, entering from the very beginning into the whole salvific economy of the redemption, said: "Behold, 1 am the handmaid of the Lord; let it be done to me according to your word."aS Remember also, dear Brothers and Sisters, that the obedience to which you committed yourselves by consecrating yourselves without reserve to God through the profession of the evangelical counsels is a particular expression of interior freedom, just as the definitive expression of Christ's freedom was his obedience "unto death": "1 lay down my life, that I may take it again. No one Redemptionis Donum / takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord.'~6 Love for the Church Witness 14. In the Jubilee Year of the Redemption the entire Church wishes to renew her love for Christ, the redeemer of man and of the world, her Lord and also her divine Spouse. And so in this holy year the Church looks with special attentibn to you, dear Brothers and Sisters, who, as consecrated persons, occupy a special place, both in the universal community of the People of God, and in every local community. While the Church wishes also your love for Christ to be renewed through the grace of the extraordinary jubilee, at the same time, she is fully aware that this love constitutes a special possession of the whole People of God. The Church is aware that, in the love that Christ receives from consecrated persons, the love :of the entire Body is directed in a special and exceptional way toward the Spouse who, i~t the same time, is the Head of this Body. The Church expresses to you, dear Brothers and Sisters, her gratitude for your consecration, and for your profession of the evangelical counsels which are a special witness of love. She also expresses anew her great confidence in you who have chosen a state of life that is a special gift of God to the Church. She counts upon your complete and generous collaboration in order that, as faithful stewards of this precious gift, you may "think with the Church" and always act in union with her, in conformity with the teaching and directives of the magisterium of Peter and of the pastors in communion with him, fostering at the personal and community level a renewed ecclesial awareness. And at the same time, the Church prays for you, that your witness of love may never fail.87 She also asks you to accept in this spirit the present message of the Jubilee Year of the Redemption. Precisely in this way the Apostle Paul prayed in his Letter to the Philippians, that "your love may abound more and more., with all discernment, so that you may approve what is excellent, and may be pure and blameless for the day of Christ, filled with the fruits of righteousness. "~ Through the work of Christ's redemption "God's love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit which has been given to us.'~9 1 constantly ask the Holy Spirit to grant to each one of you, according to your own gift,9° to bear special witness to this love. May "the law of the Spirit that gives life in Christ Jesus" be victorious within you in a way worthy of your vocation, that law that has "set us free from the law of. death.TM Live, then, this new life in the measure of the different gifts of God, which corresponds to the vocation of your individual religious families. The profession of the evangelical counsels shows each of you how, with the help of the Spirit, you can put to death92 everything that is contrary to life and serves sin and death; everything that is opposed to true love of God and others. The world needs the authentic "contradiction" provided by religious conse- 4911 / Reviow for Religious, July-August, 1984 cration, as an unceasing stimulus of saivific renewal. "Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that you may prove what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect.'~3 After the special period of experimentation and renewal provided for by the motu proprio Ecclesiae Sanctae, your institutes have recently received, or are preparing to receive, the Church's approval of your renewed constitutions. May this gift of the Church encourage you to know them, to love them, and, above all, to live them in generosity and fidelity, remembering that obedience is an unambiguous manifestation of love. It is precisely this witness of love that the world today and all humanity need. They need this witness to the redemption as this is imprinted upon the profession of the evangelical counsels. These counsels---each in its own way and all of them together in their intimate connection--"bear witness" to the redemption which, by the power of Christ's cross and resurrection, leads the world and humanity, in the Holy Spirit, toward that definitive fulfillment which man, and through man, the whole of creation finds in God and only in God. Your witness is therefore of inestimable value, You must constantly strive to make it fully transparent and fully fruitful in the world. A further aid to this will be the faithful observance of the Church's norms regarding also the outward manifestation of your consecration and of your commitment to poverty.94 Apostolate 15. From this witness of spousal love for Christ, through which the entire salvific truth of the Gospel becomes particularly visible, there also comes, dear Brothers and Sisters, as something proper to your vocation, a sharing in the Church's apostolate, in her universal mission--which is accomplished con-temporaneously in every nation in many different ways and through many different charisms. Your specific mission is in harmony with the mission of the apostles whom the Lord sent "to the whole world" to "teach all nations,'s5 and it is also linked to the mission of the hierarchial order. In the apostolate which consecrated persons exercise, their spousal love for Christ becomes, in an as it were organic way, love for the Church as the Body of Christ, for the Church as the People of God, fbr the Church which is at one and the same time Spouse and Mother. It is difficult to describe, or even to list, the many different ways in which consecrated persons fulfill through the apostolate their love for the Church. This apostolate is always born from that particular gift of your founders which, received from God and approved by the Church, has become a charism for the different needs of the Church and of the world at particular moments of history, and, in its turn, this apostolate is extended and strengthened in the life of religious communities as one of the enduring elements of the Church's own life and apostolate. In each of these elements, in each field--both of Redemptionis Donum / 499 contemplation so fruitful for the apostolate and of direct apostolic action--the Church's constant blessing accompanies you, as does at the same time her pastoral and maternal solicitude with regard to the spiritual identity of your life and the correctness of your activity in the midst of the great universal community of vocations and charisms of the whole People of God. Through each of the institutes separately, and through their organic integration into the whole of, the Church's mission, special emphasis is given to the Economy of Redemption, the profound sign of which each one of you, dear Brothers and Sisters, bears within himself or herself through the consecration and profession of the evangelical counsels. And thus, even though the many different apostolic works that you perform are extremely important, nevertheless the truly fundamental work of the aPostolate remains always what (and at the same time who) you are in the Church. Of each one of you can be repeated, with special appropriateness, these words of St. Paul: '~For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God."96 And at the same time this "being hidden with Christ in God" makes it possible to apply to you the words of the master himself: "Let your light so shine before men that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven."97 For the sake of this light with which you must "shine before men," of great imPortance among you is the witness of your mutual love linked to the fraternal spirit of each community, for the Lord has said: "By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another."gg The fundamentally communitarian nature of your religious life--nourished by the teaching of the Gospel, by the sacred liturgy, and above all by the Eucharist--is a special way of accomplishing this interpersonal and social dimension. By caring for one another, by bearing one another's burdens, you show, by your unity, that Christ is living in your midst.99 Important for your apostolate in the Church is every kind of sensitivity to the needs and sufferings of the individual, which are seen so clearly and so movingly in today's world. For the Apostle Paul teaches: "Bear one another's burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ,;~°° and he adds that "love is the fulfilling of the Law."1°1 Your mission must be seen! Deep, very deep must be the bond which links it to the Church!~°2 Through everything that you do, and especially through everything that you are, may the truth be proclaimed and reconfirmed that "Christ loved the Church and gave himself up for her"~o3--the truth that is at the basis of the whole Economy of Redemption. From Christ, the Redeemer of the World, may the inexhaustible source of your love of the Church pour forth! Conclusion The Eyes Enlightening the Heart 16. This exhortation, which 1 address to you on the Solemnity of the Annunciation in the Jubilee Year of the Redemption, is meant to be an 5{11) / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 expression of that love which the Church has for men and womeri religious: You, dear Brothers and Sisters, are truly a special treasure of the Church. And this treasure becomes more understandable through °meditation on the reality of the redemption--for which the present Holy Year offers a continuous opportunity and a welcome encouragement. Recognize therefore, in this light, your identity and your dignity. May the Holy Spirit--through Christ's cross and resurrection--"having the eyes of your hearts enlightened," enable you "to know what is the hope to which he has called you, what are the riches of his glorious inheritance in the saints."~0~ These "eyes enlightening the heart" the Church unceasingly asks ]'or each ¯ one of you who have already taken the road of the profession of the evfingelical counsels. The Church, together with you, asks for the same "enlightened eyes" for many other Christians---especially for young men and women--that they, too, may discover this way, and not be afraid to enter upon it, that---even in the midst of the adverse circumstances of life today--they may hear Christ's "Follow Me."1°5 You, too, must strive for this through your prayer, and aiso through the witness of that love whereby "God abides in us, and his love is perfected in us."~o6 May this witness become present everywhere, and universally clear. May the people of our times, in their spiritual weariness, find in this witness both support and hope. Therefore serve your brethren with the joy that wells up from a heart in which Christ has his dwelling. "And may the world of our time., be enabled to receive the good news, not from evangelizers who are dejected and discouraged., but from ministers of the Gospel whose lives glow with fervor, who have first received the joy of Christ."~07 The Church, in her love for you, does not cease "kneeling before the Father. and praying"t0g that he may effect in you "the strengthening of the inner nature,''~09 and, as in you, so also in many others of your baptized brothers and sisters---especially young people--so that they, too, may find the same way to holiness which, in the course of history, so many generations have traveled together with Christ the Redeemer of the World and Spouse of Souls, often~ leaving behind them the bright radiance of God's light against the dark and gray background of human existence. To all of you who travel this road in the present phase of the history of the Church and the world there is addressed this fervent hope of the Jubilee Year of the Redemption, that "you, being rooted and grounded in love, may have the power to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ which surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God."~0 Message of the Solemnity of the Annunciation of the Lord On the Feast of the Annunciation in thi~ Holy Year of the Redemption, I place the present exhortation in the heart of the Immaculate Virgin. Among all Redemptionis Donum / 501 persons consecrated unreservedly to G6d, she is the first. She--the Virgin of Nazareth--is also the one most fully consecrated to God, consecrated in the most perfect way. Her spousal~love reached its height in the divine motherhood through the power of the Holy Spirit. She, who as mother carries Christ in her arms, at the same time fulfills in the most perfect way his call: "Follow me." And she follows him--she, the mother--as her teacher of chastity, poverty and obedience. How poor she was on Bethlehem night, and how poor on Calvary! How obedient she was at the moment .of the Annunciation, and then--at the foot of the Cross--obedient "unto death!" How dedicated she was in all her earthly life to the cause of the kingdom" of heaven through most chaste love. If the entire Church finds in Mary her first model, all the more reason do you find her so--you as consecrated individuals and communities within the Church! On the day that calls to mind the inauguration of the Jubilee of the Redemption, which took place last year, I address myself to you with this present message to invite you to renew your religious consecration according to the model of the consecration of the very Mother of God. Beloved Brothers and Sisters! "God is faithful, by whom you were called into the fellowship of his Son, Jesus Christ our Lord."lll Persevering in fidelity to him who is faithful, strive to find a very special support in Mary! For she was called by God to the most perfect communion with his Son. May she, the faithful Virgin, also be the Mother of your evangelical way. May she help yoti to experience and to show to the world how infinitely faithful is God himself! With these hopes 1 bless you with all my heart. From the Vatican, March 25, in the Jubilee Year of the Redemption, 1984, the sixth of my pontificate. NOTES ~See Mt 7:14. 2Ps 130(129):7. .JSee 2 Co 11:2. sSee Mt' 19:21; Mk 10:21; Lk' 18:22. 6Mk 10:21. 8Jn 3:16. 91 P 1:18-19. ml Co 6:20. ~2Mt 5:48. ~JSee Lv 19:2; 11:44. ~4Ep 5:1-2. ~6Mk 8:35; see Mt 10:39; Lk 9:24. ~TMt 19:21. ~gMt 6:21. ~°See Mt 19:21; Mk 10:21; Lk 18:22. 22Mt 19:16. ~JJn 15:16. 241 Jn 4:10. 4See Mt 18:20. 7Mt 19:21. ~1 Co 6:19-20. ~Sls 44:22. ~sSee Mt 6:19-20. 2~See Jn 14:26. ~See Second Vatican Council, decree Perfectae Caritatis, 5; see also document of the Congrega-tion for Religious and Secular Institutes "Essential Elements in the Church's Teaching on Religious Life as Applied to Institutes Dedicated to Works of the Apostolate" (May 3 I, 1983), nn. 5ff. ~6Rm 6:3-4. ~TRm 6:6. 2SRm 6:1 I. ~gSee Ep 4:22-24. 51)2 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 J°ls 43:1. 34Rm 12:1. asPs 16( 15):2,5. 42See Mt 7:1. ~6See Mt 6:14-15. ~°Jn 17:15. 5JPh 2:6-7: 57Mr 19:12.° 6~I Co 7:32. ~2 Co 8:9. ~Mt 19:21. 32Ps 135 (134):4. J3Jn 17:19. a~Heb 10:5,7. ~6Rm 12:1. aTPs 73(72):25-26. 39See Sg 8:6. ~See Lk 20:38. :4~2 Co 5:17. *JLk 6:35. '~See Mt 5:40-42. *~See Lk 14:13-14. *TRm 8:19-21. '~1 Jn 2:15-17. ~gSee Gn 1:28. ~See Perfectae Caritatis, 5. 522 Co 5:17. ~Mk 8:34: Mt 16:24. ssPh 3:8-9. 562 Co 4:16. 5SMt 19:11. 59See I Co 7:28-40: ~°See I Co 7:38. 621 Co 7:34. 6~See Lk 20:34-36; Mt 22:30: Mk 12:25. 65Mt 5:3. 66Ep 3:9. 67Mt 19:21; see Mk 10:21; Lk 18:22. 7°Mr 5:3. 7~Ph 2:6-8. 74Mysterium lniquitatis; see 2 Th 2:7. 77Jn 8:29. tSJn 6:38. ~OLk 22:42; see Mk 14:36; Mt 26:42. 82See Perfectae Caritatis, 14. 85Lk 1:38. 86Jn 10:17-18. 89Rm 5:5. 9°See I Co 7:7. 6SMk 6:33; eLk 6:20. 72Rm ~: 19. 7-~See Perfectae Caritatis, I. 75Jn 4:34. 76Jn 5:30. 79ps 40(39):8-9; see Heb 10:17. s~See Evangelica Testificatio, 6. S~Heb 13:17. ~4Mk 10:45. sTSee Lk 22:32. ssPh 1:9-1 I. 91Rm 8:2. 92See Rm 8:13. 9-~Rm 12:2. 9~See Code of Canon Law, canon 669. 9~See Mt 28:19. 9~Col 3:3. 97Mt 5:16. ~Jn 13:35. 99See Perfectae Caritatis, 15. t°°Ga 6:2. ~o~ Rm 13:10. ~°2The Code of Canon Law explicitly mentions this with regard to apostolic activity: see canon 675, sec. 3. ~O3Ep 5:25. , ~Ep 1:18. IO~Lk 5:27. ~°~1 Jn 4!12. ~°TPope Paul VI, apostolic exhortation Evangelii Nuntiandi, 80. ~°sSee Ep 3:14. ~°gSee Ep 3:16. n0Ep 3:17;19. ml Co 1:9. Encourage Vocations May I also ask you for something?You are well aware of the needs of the Church all over the world in relation to vocations to the priesthood and to the religious life. My request is that you do not fail to challenge the young to follow Christ in this way. Help them to discover the divine call. Support them by your prayer, your advice, and the example of your lives.--John Paul Ii, to the General Chapter of the Congregation of Christian Brothers. L'Osscrvatore Romano, 24 April, 1984, p. 9. Commitment: Dying and Rising to Self Anthony Wieczorek, O. Praem. This article is the fruit of the prayerful reflections of Bro~ Wieczorek as he approached the time of his solemn profession during the days of Holy Week. His last article. "Poverty. Time. Solitude: A Conte.xt for a Celibate Life-Style.~appeared in the issue of September/October. 1982. Bro. Wieczorek resides in St. Joseph Priory: 103 Grant Street: De Pere. WI 54115. Commitment is a life and death decision. This is especially true for such commitments as marriage, profession, arid even the taking 'on ~of certain jobs requiring a good degree of responsibility. Commitment is a decision to live a certain life, to embrace life and enter into it fully. At the same time, it is a death. It means letting go of other options and alternatives, of other equally good or better ways of living. For both these reasons, because commitment is an embracing of life and death, commitments are' often difficult to make, causes of not a little anxiety and fear. The fear is not simply because of the dying required; it is perhaps least of all due to that. Rather, the main cause for fear in commitment is precisely the living, the life that is chosen with all its unknown consequences. Life is just as much out of human control as death. Life is just as much a surrender as death. When a person truly abandons oneself to living, truly living--wak.efully, consciously, with senses open and alert to every and anything--the final result is just as mysterious and uncertain as death. At least that is what I am finding out as the day of my solemn profession nears. What is involved in making such a commitment? Where will such a life lead? What price will such a life demand? For make no mistake, living exacts a terrible price--terrible and beautiful. Truly, commitment is a dying and rising of self. The self I am and know given over to transformation by living a life the consequences and end of which 1 cannot envision. The frightening part of commitment, for many of us, as these reflections try to articulate, is not just the dying to other lives, it is the rising to new and different life and, perhaps, to 503 504/ Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 an equally new and different self. The Seed of An Uncertain Future I wonder, Lord, if you wonder where all the singleheartedness has gone. It is still there, thought now I am no longer so wholly consumed by it. All its life, the residue of its past as well as the fire of its dreams, is squeezed tightly into a single seed. The seed is all curled up about itself. It is afraid to die for when it does it will erupt into nbt only new life, that is not so bad, but into different life. The tree from which that scared seed grew is only one parent. The other is mystery, wild and elusive. It will be no new tree that stretches itself upward and downward but a different tree. And so I cling to the last shreds of my former life, feeling it nonetheless slipping, being pulled endlessly from my grasp. And when the last element is gone and I fall helplessly into the soil, half buried by the force of the fall, then I shall die/rise--for it is all the same--to not only live anew but differently. I die to arise as a self I do not know; the me I am assumed, eaten up as food, by the person 1 shall become. .The seed existing in me is devouringme to nourish itself. It is eating its way out of me, bite by bite. Soon I will be gone. Yet not gone, for a new and different self will begin to grow from where 1 stood, with its own life, its own dreams and future. As it is now part of me, so then ! shall be part of it, consumed as fuel until it is strong enough to move away and seek its own source of life, to wrap its lips around the mystery which gave it birth and suck into its being a vitality and energy I cannot imagine, let alone comprehend. And it will grow as the mystery it drinks saturates every cell of it. By that time l will have played my part. The husk that will be what remains of me will slowly crumble with a dry, crinkling sound. Discarded, will I be remembered by what has become of me? Will anything of me survive in that which survives me? When 1 too hang a lifeless husk from a tree, consumed wholly by what exists within me? Of Acorns and O~ks It's too bad acorns can't fly. Maybe it's just as well. I wonder, if they could, how many over the years would have changed their minds and returned in a flurry of little wings to the tree from which they fell? A person just can't be sure. In the fall, if you sit quietly amid the sounds of wind and rustling leaves you can occasionally hear the sudden and quite distinct plop of an acorn hitting the ground. And if you lean over it you can even hear the final little sigh the acorn makes just before, separated from the life of the tree, it dies. For me, the acorn is a symbol of faith. The whole and utter point of an acorn's life is to die. It dies so that the oak tree within it can sprout and grow and give birth to more acorns and so more oak trees. But what about the acorn? That surely isn't much of a life. I wonder if they're informed of the odds of success before they're sent on their suicide dive? For all the acorns that fall, how slim a percentage are able to accomplish their full mission? How many of Commitment: Dying and Rising to Self / 505 the well meaning little things end up in the bellies of squirrels? or get picked up by people like me who put them in a pocket, or sit them on a desk as a remembrance? All that wasted potential. That's why l say, it's too bad acorns can't fly. But acorns don't seem to mind the odds. Millions fall to pointless deaths each year. Each one, I suppose, acts in faith. And so do they die. Maybe I'm too romantic about this. Maybe acorns kick and scream over their fate. Maybe it's not that acorns voluntarily let go at all. Perhaps they hang on for dear life, literally, while the wind and tree try to shake them loose. And don't blame the tree; it is, after all, the wind that does the shaking. The wind jostles and bounces the branches and leaves until the acorns can no longer hang on, until .th,.ey fall, with a plop, onto the ground below. In my room is an 1con, Rublev's The Holy Trinity. On it are three figures, the three visitors greeted by Abraham. Each represents a different person of the Holy Trinity. They are, from left to right, Son, Father, and Spirit. They are seated at a table and on its center is a solitary cup. The symbolism speaks of the cup as the cup of commitment or decision or vow. The cup is the symbol of the incarnation. The Son in drinking it would vow to undergo the incarnation, the ministry and death. The Father looks sadly at the Son but makes no move to urge his drinking. The decision must be made freely and the Father respects that. The Spirit, though, is much less inhibited, much more impetuous. The Spirit motions toward the. cup, as if to push it closer to the Son, encouraging him to drink. In Greek and Hebrew, the word for spirit and wind is the same. I think that the word for Jesus and acorn should be the same also. The Spirit blew the cup across the table and thbn with a sudden gust blew the Son right out of heaven so that he fell, with a plop, upon the earth to live so briefly and then with a sigh die so that from his seed new life might sprout and grow. I wonder if the Son would rather have hung on to the Father? I Wonder if without the Spirit's insistence the Son would have continued to cling to heaven? Who can blame either of them? What were the Son's odds for.success? And the Spirit? The Spirit is the seed contained within the acorn--Son. Do not feel sorry for the acorn, nor for the Son. Rather, feel sorry for yourself; All of us are acorns. Each one is complete with a spirit-seed~ We cling to a cross and cling desperately, lest we too fall and we too germinate into a new and different creation. And yet, it is our purpose and fate to let go and drop down into the life we find ourselves forced by various kinds of necessity to live. I like to fancy myself a tree. Sad to say I am only the acorn. I am meant to fall, meant to die so that the. life within me might sprout and grow. For now, though, l~cling with all my strength to the tree, high above life, not at all anxious to.surrender my grasp and fall into it. I look down on the acorns already fallen with arms that ache and fingers that are numb. The wind will not let up. It is but a matter of time. Eventually I will fall and that will be that. There will be nowhere to go but into life, a life wholly foreign and different from my life as an acorn. Up to now I have not minded being an 506 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 acorn. But now I see a very serious shortcoming: acorns can't fly. The Waves and Tides of Life Yesterday I stood at the water's edge and watched the waves ebb and flow. The water Would rush ashore in a burst of extroversion and then, just as shyly, recede, as though it had scared and embarrassed itself with its own excitement. Today I think, how much life is like those waves. There is an ebb flow to my emotions. Today, though, 1 ebb, recede back into myself to be alone with my loneliness. And today, as I sit and recall the waves, they seem like hands groping, flaying out to grab hold of an3ithing or anyone~ They are like the hands of a ghost that can. neither hold nor ever be held. The waves that beat the sand and stones, are they ii'ying in fact to climb the shore? to step out and stand and walk out among the people who have from time to time plunged into their world only to emerge after a moment and walk away? Those people who enjoyed the waves for a moment, befriending them only to leave for the business of their own lives, leaving, too, the waves to lap longingly after life they can never know or share? I with them ebb further into my heart, receding back into the memories of those who have plunged for a moment into my llfe only to leave and leave me lapping after them. Like a lake .I sit alone, from time to time rising up with a rush only to slip back into myself, startled and embarrassed by my own need. Something within me is like a wave that slaps ashore but never stays, Something within me surges up only to be pulled back within by some internal gravity. I'm not sure if that something is just shy, testing the air and environ-ment then fleeing back inside, or if it is trapped, tryin~ to escape the,grasp of something else holding it bound. I don't even know what the something within me is, the wave-like thing that surges within me. I wonder if the waves feel the futility of their endless spending of energy? What do the waves accOmplish? At what do they succeed? Too pragmatic a question? I guess so. But the question comes because I, like them, ebb and flow over and over, so much motion without any progress onward or toward. Things within me, feelings, truths, continually well up and slide onto the shore of consciousness only to teasingly return to the depths, staying only long enough to be quickly felt, to be glanced, to pose a question but never long enough to give: an answer or even listen to my response. Maybe then 1 have it all wrong. Maybe the point of the waves is not for them to venture ashore. Maybe the waves are not groping but beckoning hands, calling me to enter it, urging and compelling me into its depths. The ebb and flow of feelings that roll up into consciousness, are they bait meant to lure me into my own depths? Endlessly they call, endlessly they reach .out to stroke and caress me into compliance, easing my fear with warm, soft strokes. Those waves that nowhere go gather me and draw me not nowhere but~down, deep down, then deeper still until memory of shore is gone and the memory of me upon the shore is equally gone, washed away by the waves. Commitment: Dying and Rising to Self ] 507 The Bondage of Busyness I'm sorry, Lord, so much these past few weeks l've had to do, to be busy about. How easy it is to put off being sensitive and aware by doing. It leaves no time to be, only time enough to do. Lately I've been going through life at light's speed. Stars blur into indistinguishable streaks of white light. And people too. And you, God; and you, too. You bead up on the surface of my life like water and roll away while 1 race on. It is for self-defense. Awareness requires sensitiv-ity and for that ability to feel. To feel. Can't I just ponder you slowly in my mind? Must I dare to feel you? To be pierced by experiences, allowing them to enter in, leave an impression, even draw blood7 There ,is something in me struggling to be free. Always the same words. And why not? It is the same reality. Bondage. When, Lord, when will I learn? When will 1 take the lessons to heart and emerge whole and authentic? It is being you require not sacrifice~ not doing. They are quite wrong, those who say "just being" is a passivity. It is work, painful work without respite: 1 know why people are wont to go mad. It is all so painfully obvious. Why do I go on living in such foreign realms where things done and not being alive is the currency? The True, the Real is here, so obvious, waiting. 1 wait too. I wait for death to free me from all my falsity and foolishness, from the hustle and bustle. And l blame you for the fire and brimstone I call upon myself. I hold my breath while ! pray for death, hoping ¯ all the while it will pass me by.,I am too afraid of living; of feeling life, to die. Doing is my excuse for not being, for not taking the time or oppo~unity to feel. After death, 1 imagine, there will be all eternity to be. But even now I can feel the fabric of the womb pressing against my face and hands. My fingers grope to tear it away. 1 strain to open my eyes against it and see beyond it, crying an angry moan through it and dissolve it with my tears. Being means living and I will not allow myself to be born. I want to die but fear birth, fear the living. If 1 do not die I cannot be born, cannot be. 1 am afraid of eternity, afraid that once I pass through this existence to life I will have nothing to keep me from being, from living truly. It is not physical death I fear. That is only the symbol. Physical death reminds me that someday I must make the 9assage: Physical death is a taunt that reminds me that this existence is illusion and all the busy things I do to keep me from being and feeling are illusory too. That's why I flee from death, for 1 am afraid to live, to be, to feel. The struggle is to be born. The bondage to be enwombed. Death is the door I refuse to open for life awaits me on the other side. When will I let go and let death take me? When, 1 know now, I can let go of my fear of feeling. Death is release but 1 do not want to be free. No, that is not true. I crave it, crave life even as I fear it. I die to the wrong thing. I die to life so that I may live in death instead of dying to death, the death in which I now, and yet, live. If I die to death 1 shall rise again to live life, to feel life. And so, to insulate myself, I lie buried beneath piles of mud while my spirit struggles to soar. I choose death 5011 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 for it is painless, effortless, feelingless. The mud is all the deedsI do, must do, ought to do, have to do, can do, should do. All these excuses, a facade of life to imagine the things 1 do, the death I live in, means I am really alive. I refuse the resurrection and choose the facade. The facade of life that I live, for I have not died. Death waits. I can be embraced any time, any time I choose to live. It is so simple:,to be free 1 must simply die to death and be willing to live. Two things block my way, fear and self-consciousness. Maybe there are three things, death is the third. They are, I'm sure, all interrelated., Fear of death of the selL.l have, after all, gone through quite a turnsince my graduate school day~ when self-fulfillment was the key. Maybe it still is a key, though not to any doors I find before me. The key now is death~ death to self. Maybe I'm morel a Buddhist than 1 thought. Fear stares me in the face every :step of the way. The face of fear fills my vision. It is only an illusion though. Fear has no more a face than does a mirror. Fear's face is my own reflection. So here it is Good Friday, a day of self-denial, a day of the celebration of the conquest of fear. Your faith, Lord, conquered your fear. And for me, I lack the faith for it will bid me to face fear and enter into death. And when 1 die I shall rise__to live, to feel. Feel what? The truth: uncertainty, sorrow, loneliness made more real by love, impotence, insignificance. Even your death, Lord, has changed so little. What then of mine? ~;ou see my self-consciousness is all that keeps me from consciousness. Make no mistake, I know the grace is there. I know that if I stand silently with outstretched hands you will fill them. For that reason my hands are tightly closed into fists, fists that grasp and cling to every shred of self-consciousness I can find. ~Get behind me, Satan, your ways are not God's but man's." There is so much power in those words. The object of that little outburst of yours was not Peter's remarks but the voice within you that Peter only echoed. Why after all die, to whom will it matter in the end, much less now? I have the same voice in me, it is my voice trying to shout down the voice Of the spirit-seed begging for birth. And so I cry out.with you, "get behind me, self-consciousness." An Allegory on Arising Somewhere an alarm is ringing but I can't seem to wake enough to turn it off. It pulls and tugs at me but I am too groggy to do much more than mutter with swollen tongue still drunk with sleep. I must wake, I tell myself, but my limbs refuse to acknowledge any signals from my duty-bound brain. Of the past Triduum, Good Friday was my best day, of the three the day of greatest wakefulness. It left me eager for the Vigil service--but there it ended, l lie in my tomb thrilling over resurrection but cannot muster the consciousness to rise. I close my eyes to resurrection so that I may return to the opium of my ¯ Commitment: Dying and Rising to Self / 509 dreams. I,know I am dreaming for I know that 1 am unawake. But my sleep-logged body lacks the bouyancy to rise. I sleep on while the alarm rings on. Good Friday and I became such good friends because we spoke the same language: death--only unlike Good Friday, I refused to move on to'Easter Sunday, Each day by my own decree is a Good Friday. For, having to choose between the tomb and wakefulness, I have chosen the tomb. Holy Thursday was too busy for me to find in it any portal to mystery, let alone your presence. But Good Friday loomed like a sudden door in the middle of the service and I entered in. It felt right, necessary. I need to die, to hand myself over to death. But I refuse to enter fully into Good Friday, for from where I stood j,ust inside the threshold I could see that it extended out into Holy Saturday--when the alarm begins to ring--and opened up into Easter Sunday. So there it is, a matrix of transformation, a labyrinth one wanders through to emerge as some new self the old one lost somewhere within. I don't even think I mind the death anymore. It is somehow inevitable and in a sense it has already begun. But in the foreground I can hear the alarm waking me to consciousness even before fully asleep. It is that that scares me. I try to ignore it: can't you tell I'm dead? What do you mean it's time to get up? Do the dead rise and shine? I found in Good Friday an escape from consciousness and feeling but found also the alarm that tries so persistently to raise these unwilling limbs to new life. It does not end on Good Friday. On the third day, it says, he rose again. It took Jesus three days to lose his tug-of-war with God. Obvously you simply weren't trying, l'm proof that the contest can go on much longer. We are told to give our lives over to God as though we were lumps of clay, as though it were an act done once and for all. That is simply not how it is. We are balls of yarn that God slowly pulis, unraveling us and knitting us into something new. The same yarn but a new being--and we don't even get to choose the pattern. And so I hang on as mightily as I can, trying to unravel what God has knitted and rewrap myself into a safely static ball of potential: After all; look at what God did with the "yarn" that was--and is--Jesus. His own friends couldn't recognize him when God got through. So God and I are engaged in a tug-of-war. It took you three days, Lord? Three days to let totally go and be remade? Would that I were as weak. Unfortunately, God does not seem to be as strong as we claim. He is losing, his new creation is losing its shape, slowly being undone. The alarm bids me to stir and awaken, to loosen my hold on myself and let what I am be used up, transformed and brought back as one more patch on a huge and colorful woven mosiac. But now I am talking about Easter. Now I am talking about wakefulness, consciousness, the empty tomb with its wrappings neatly folded and put aside, like sheets and blankets on a bed remade and forgotten during the daylight hours. But I am still wrapped warm within my bed. The tomb is not yet vacant. I cling to my self-consciousness, the self 1 think 1 know and do not want to lose. But despite the sleep, I cannot hold on to myself much longer, the sleep deepens and my grip upon myself loosens. 510 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 God. tugs once more and smiles, "Nothing but a little snag," and goes on knitting making who knows, what to one day soon be sewn into a patchwork of eternity and serve some purpose in a plan not my own. Each day for me is Good Friday and soon Holy Saturday when I will be remade an~ then reappear a stranger, washed ashore on the morning of some Easter Sunday. Reciprocal On top of hell a bluebird sits On an apple branch. A mocking bird's swelling song, Tiptop in a tall cedar, chants A confiteor to such irony. Cows graze in emerald pastures. The sun~ rising red, puts the moon to rest: And morning prayers are said. Below these placid pastures, Below fring.ed acres, --primed and waiting-- Are the missiles, restrained, yet ready To fly whistling seaward, to other Pastures, where other dwellers sit on Top of hell, listening to another Bluebird singing, on an apple branch, A mocking bird trilling, tiptop In a tall cedar. Martha Wickham 560 N. Walnut, Apt~ °1 o Taylorville, IL 62568 Ecclesial Relationships for Religious: Desires and Limits Alexa Suelzer, S.P. This article is the text of the second annual lecture and colloquium sponsored by Review for Religious in conjunction with the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University which took place at the university April 12-13. In the spring of 1983, Sister Alexa was appointed to the special committee of religious formed by Archbishop John Quinn to collaborate with the ponifical commission established to facilitate the pastoral ministry of bishops to religious in this country. Sister Alexa, whose background is in Scripture, has had extensive administrative experience within her own community. She may be addressed as St. Mary-of-the-Woods College; St. Mary-of-the-Woods, IN 47876. Almost a year has passed since John Paul 11 wrote to the bishops of the United States concerning the religious--both men and women--in their dio-ceses and.sent them a document titled Essential Elements in the Church's Teaching on Religious Nfe As Applied to Institutes Dedicated to Works of ApostolateJ a compendium drawn from pertinent decrees of Vatican H, papal writings, and documents of the Sacred Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes. Its authority derives from its sources and from the personal approval of John Paul? Perhaps there was a time when such imposing credentials would preclude criticism--but no more! Reaction from religious has covered the gamut from strong affirmation thro.ugh indifference to angry rejection. One religious' assertion that the teaching affirms her.waY of life is counterbalanced by another's depression at seeing her path questioned. Between these extremes lie varying degrees of agreement and disagreement. It seems safe to say that the enumeration of the indispensable elements (prayer, evangelical witness, and so forth) meets with general acceptance, but description of each of them finds the variety of reactions described. Sometimes the criticism is on peripheral issues: Why single out American religious? ~Why 511 512 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 were the LCWR and CMSM passed by? What is the hidden agenda? At times the criticism stems from misreading the text, e.g., presuming that the "ending of the special period of experimentation," condemns religious life henceforth to the s, tatus quo. At times the language and concepts are faulted as archaic and stereotypical, better suited to an earlier time. More serious are the theological challenges: the failure to realize adequately the evolution of religious life through the centuries, the use of consecration as a master category, the neglect of the prophetic element, and an unsatisfactory eccle-iology. From listening and speaking to religious, both individually, and in groups, I am led to believe that the last name---ecclesiology--is the source of the greatest difficulty. How one receives the document depends in great part upon the view of the Church--the ecclesiology--that is operative, consciously or uncon-sciously, in the reader:. Ecclesiology is assuredly an issue, for relatedness of religious life to the Church is one of the clearest affirmations in Essential Elements. In his letter accompanying the document John Paul refers to this fact in such phrases as "their ecclesial vocation,TM and "specific relation to tile' Church."~ Essential Elements repeats and elaborates these ideas: "Religious life belongs to the life and holiness of the Church. The Church authenticates the gift and mediates the consecration.6 And throughout there is a steady recurrence of phi'ases like "canonically erected by competent ecclesiastical authority";7 "according to constitutions wh'ich the Church, by her authority, accepts and approves";8 or "works of charity entrusted to the institute by the Church and performed in her name.''9 Relationship to the Church is in fact the seventh of the ten essentials named. Some parts of the section bear quoting: Religious life has its own place in relation to the divine and hierarchical structure of the Church. The founders and foundresses of religious institutes ask the hierarchial Church.publicly to authenticate the gift of God on which the existence of the institute depends. In their origins, religious institutes depend in a unique way on the hierarchy. As a particularly rich and important example of these manifold gifts, each religious institute depends for the authentic discernment of its founding charism on the God-given ministry of the hierarchy. This relationship obtains not only for the first recognition of the institute but also for its ongoing development. In short, the Church continues to mediate the conseCratory action of God in a specific way, recognizing and fostering this particular form of consecrated life.t0 Similarly in the section on evangelical witness it is noted that the saving work of Christ is shared by means of the concrete services mandated by the Church 'in the approval of the constitutions,tt The fact of this approval qualifies'the kind of service to be undertaken, since it must be faithful to the Gospel, the Church and the institute.12 ¯ .These statements are explicit to the poi'nt of overkill. They can be seen as a Ecclesial Relationships for Religious / $15 counterbalance (if not a reaction) to the exuberance of post-conciliar years in which the institutional dimension of the Church had been played down, if not denigrated. To understand how this state of affairs came about, it will be helpful to look at events in the field of ecclesiology both during and after the Council: In the first session of Vatican II the proposed schema on the Church offered by the Theological Commission was modeled, on the standard theological treatment of th~ manuals, a treatment laying heavy stress on the juridical and organizational aspects of the Church. Quite early in the debate the Council Fathers realized that the desired definition and description could not be simply in external, hierarchical terms, but the Church must be seen as mystery, that is, as described by Paul V1, a divine reality inserted into history, not fully to be captured by human thought and language. It is an indication of the development of the Church's understanding bf her nature and mission that the bishops turned to a fresh approach which would, be more historical, dynamic, and biblical. After a new draft and a series of revisions during the second and.third sessions, Lumen Gentium, The Dogmatic Constitution on the Church,~3 was approved almost unanimously/and was immediately pro-mulgated, November 21, 1964. ~ The course of theology these past two decades has been charted largely by the insights'of Lumen Gentium. Its pastorial stance, its :use of fresh imagery, and its insistence on the universal c, all to holiness provided a new approach to the role of .the laity. Its presentation of the episcopate (a subject whose discussion had been necessarily cut short~ during the interrupted deliberations of Vatican I) introduced collegiality. And the discussion of the relation between the Church and other Christians led not only to rapprochement with other denominations but, through recognition of the Spirit's action in all men and women, led the Church to a clearer understanding of her own nature and mission. The decision of the Council Fathers to begin their reflection at the level of mystery, and only thereafter consider the visible, hierarchical elements of the Church was not fortuitous. The work of Vatican .II was built on an .ecclesiology which had been developing for the past half century. Nevertheless the Council, by reason of its stature and its pronouncements, gave a definite impetus to subsequent studies in ecclesiology= The topic is a leading one in the system of Karl Rahner. The major post-coriciliar work of Hans Kiing deals with the Church. Edward Schillebeeckx' recent works in Christology followed upon his treatment, over a period of years,of the Church in terms of sacramentality. On the popular level Avery Dulles' Models of the Church helped the non-specialist to appreciate the Church by means of many models, intellectual constructs, each giving a particular insight into the mystery of the Church, never fully to be apprehended by any of the models, or, indeed, by all of them~ Despite the advances of Vatican II and of subsequent ecclesiology, it 5"14 ] Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 should be recognized that the theology of Vatican I1 is transition theology. Lumen Gentium, for example, is filled with fresh insights, but these are seldom developed and their relation to older views--which the Council apparently still espoused--is not always evident. For example, although: Lumen Gentium treated the'x;isible, hierarchical dimension of:the Church only in second place, the institutional element still looms large, partially, of course, because it could be dealt, with in practical, coherent terms. (Probably the Church as institution is still the model in. possession~among the rank and file.) Again, the Council documents speak often of charismata (dona is the word used) but apart from insisting that these must be respected when shown to be genuine, little is said about the. relationship between "the gifts, both hierarchical ,and charismatic"~4 and their interplay. All in all, a kind of nervousness characterizes some postconciliar theology, especially in "official" statements~ a tendency to distrust the initial steps taken by the Council Fathers and to return to the safer paths of neoscholasticism.~5 l.believe Essential Elements shows such a tendency. At the.same time, by its consideration of the Church0primarily as mystery and its subordination of hierarchical to charismatic elements, Lumen Gentium itself supplied ammunition for the kinds of anti-institutional attacks we have witnessed in recent years. By a sort of semantic shift, "institutional, hierarchical Church" is sometimes referred to as.a separate entity over against---even in conflict with--the "charismatic Church?' When such polarization occurs it is easy to neglect or deny the interpenetration of the visible and invisible dimensions. An authentic theology, however, must develop from an under, standing of the Church as a single reality, both visible and invisible, having both hierarchical and charismatic elements. 16 One consequence of polarization can be seen in a renewed emptiasis upon institutional factors, possibly to balance what is, seen as a too enthusiastic espousal of a "spiritual" Church. Such stress is found in Essential Elements, which notes that the Church's hierarchic character proceeds from the headship of Christ,17 and calls deliberate attention to "the divine and hierarchical structure of the Church."~8 Posing the two dimensions one against the other can be avoided by the sacramental recognizing nature of the Church, an aspect Which is treated in a few, but crucial, sections of Lumen Gentium. Its opening paragraph names the Church."a kind of sacrament or;sign of intimate union with God, and of the unity of' all mankind." It insists that the visible assembly and the spiritual community"form one interlocked reality which is composed of a human and a divine element."~9 But here again the insight is not developed and we are not told how the Church is this sign.20 . .0 The-sacramental principle--a distinguishing mark Of Roman Catho-licism- affirms that God works in and through visible, material :reality. The" principle stems from the realization that, since men and women are finite and limited, the divine is available only sacramentally, that is, by mediation. This sacramental encounter is the point of intersection between God and hispeople, an encounter is the point of intersection between God and his people, an Ecclesial Relationships for Religious / 515 encounter through which the grace of Christ reaches individuals and communi-ties. As Thomas Aquinas teaches, Jesus Christ is the great sacrament of God's presence and salvific action. Similarly the Church is the sign of Christ and the Spirit's'~healing presence among us. This traditional teaching has been utilized by many contemporary theologians who see in sacramentality a key to understanding the Church and her mission. Essential Elements insists that religious life "in a special way participates in the sacramental nature of the People of God."~1 But even if one considers the Church primarily in sacramental terms, as the document~ purports to do,22 the visible, institutional aspects can be overpowering--and Essential Elements is here a parade example. It is quite possible to accept :fully the principle of mediation and at the same time object to its wholesale application. In the widest sense sacramentality or mediation applies to the realities through, which the transcendent is disclosed and communicated tb us--realities also through which .our responses to the transcendent are experienced. It is in this very broad sense that Essential Elements uses the principle. This extension of the concept of mediation to numerous aspects of religious life meets with strong criticism and resistance. The document is heavily weighted in terms of mediation through the visible Church and her hierarchy. For example, the profession of the counsels is mediated by the Church;23 it is the Church that authenticates and mediates consecration;24 and continues to mediate the consecratory action of God.2~ Further, the document is replete with phrases like "competent ecclesiastical authority".26 ".vows~which the Church receives",~7 and "authority conferred by the Church."~ Additional evidence of the role of mediation can be seen in the emphasis place upon consecration. Following its sources,~9 Essential Elements insists that "the baptismal gift is the. fundamental Christian consecration and is the root of all others.~° With the:same fidelity3~ it notes that religious life is "a partictilar form of consecration."~ Despite the rather frequent use of the word, however, thenotion of consecration is not central in the source documents, as is evident in specifying phrases such as "a certain special consecration."~a (It is noteworthy also that the Council' Fathers rejected De consecratis "Concern- Consecrated Persons"--as a title for the conciliar decree on religious life.) It is somewhat surprising, then; that Essential Elements has seized upon con-secration as the category unde~ which to organize what it has to say about religious life, ~tating explicitly: "Consecration is the basis of religious life,TM and then continuing to use consecration as a leitmotif in almost every subsequent section. This focus is not pleasing to everyone. True, consecration has been an honored concept in the tradition of the Church for long centuries, but it is not a popular focus today. Consecration (setting aside some one or some thing for divine worship and service) smacks of dualism, and introduces dichotomies alien to a contemporary holistic approach to reality. Rightly or wrongly, the term is seen by some as elitist, a perpetuation of the "state of perfection" 516 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 mentality. It can also be argued that a decree.addressed to members of institutes dedicated to works of the apostolate should accord a higher place to mission, even though the document is careful to note that consecration always leads to mission.35 Further, Essential Elements insists that consecration takes place through an ecclesiastical, hierarchical function; Lumen Gentium states that the liturgical setting of religious profession manifests that it is .a state consecrated to God.37' Thus the action of the Church looms large in comparison with the subjective dedication, that commitment is more decisive than its acceptance by the Church through the hierarchy, an acceptance which makes the commitment visibly and publicly ecclesial. In speaking of conse-cration through the profession of the counsels, Perfectae caritatis says that the perfection of the consecration depends on the~stability of the vows or other bonds.38. On the contrary, it should be emphasized that what consecrates is not the vows,o,but the commitment expressed through the vows," which are specification for a life of total dedication. As the documents themselves make clear, totality is the characteristic of religious life. For many .religious the category of discipleship is a far more meaningful biblical paradigm to use in talking about religious life. Critics have asked why such an attractive concept was not utilized more fully, especially in light of the earlier declaration that "since the fundamental norm of religious life is a following of Christ as proposed by the Gospel, such is to be.regarded by all communities as their supreme law."39 Discipleship is a popular theme today; its bibliography--both for religious and Christians in general--grows apace.~° Avery Dulles has revamped his models in favor of the Church as ~i community of disciples; certainly this schema does justice to the elements present in the other models.4~ Essential Elements, however, refers'only briefly~to discipleship: "Formation is the process of becoming more and more a disciple of Christ."42 Possibly the writers chose to stress consecration (even, as we have seen, expanding the comments of its sources) because discipleship is seen a~ a gift and challenge to all the people of God, and to describe religious life as a particular~ form of discipleship might not provide a sufficient distinction. Consecration, of course, implies discipleship. As already noted; the authen-ticity of the consecration depends upon the. genuine commitment of the subject, that is, upon the acceptance of the demands of a life of discipleship. Critics may be right in holding that the emphasis on consecratio.n--neces~arily external' and involving mediation--may obscure the element of personal decisions and dedication as well as invite unneeded supervison from without. Consecraton can become a mere rite--something that is done to me, Anrther aspect Essential Elements chose not to treat is the prophetic nature of religious life. Here the document imitates the reserve of its sources. Considering the prophetic role of the people of God Lumen Gentium notes only that . ¯ the holy People ofGod shares also in Christ's prophetic office. It spreads abroad a " living witness to him, especially by a life of faith and:charity and by offering tO God a Ecclesial Relationships for Religious / 517 sacrifice of praise, the tribute of lips which give honor to his name.43 Nowhere does it elaborate this theme. In the subsequent chapter on religious the many riches of their life are noted, but without specific mention of a prophetic function.'~ Essential" Elements does not go beyond its sources, although some paragraphs in the section on witness show a prophetic stance.45 Conciliar documents and subsequent pronouncements have made a studied effort to avoid defining too closely the essence of ~'eligious life. Despite the emphasis it places upon consecration Essential Elements calls tfiis the basis not the essence, of religious life. Public vows, consecration, life in community all these are described and discussed but with no affixing of strict labels. Given the evolution of religious life over the centuries (the shift from eremetical to cenobitical forms, the role of poverty, the concept of mediated obedience, the juridical nature of religious commitment)° it would be foolhardy to fasten upon any one of these important elements as everywhere and at all times essential to religious life. What the°history of religious life does make clear is that this way of life is created by a person's total dedication to God in an' exclusive relationship. Early monks were described (and later defined) as completely ded!cated to God and totally oriented to his service. To become a monk was identical with giving oneself over to God. Later St. Thomas insisted on the totallgift of one's life as the hallmark of religious life. Celibacy, renunciation, eventually mediate~d obedience all were expressions of the interior commitment to live entirely for God. The religious brings the commitment common to all Christians to the level of a lifestyle. As the core of such a life is the personal decision to respond, to the internally received vocation. Vatican II acknow-ledged this interpretation, affirming that the religious is "totally dedicated to God and is committed to the honor and service of God under a new and special title."46 Perfectae carita~is speaks of "self-surrender involving their entire lives,"47 and "a call to live for God alone."~8 Essential Elements picks up on the same note, speaking of a "profound and free self-surrender."49 The religious "dedicates the whole of life.to God's service."~0 In reflecting on the relative merits of consecration and discipleship as the better paradigm for clarifying religious life, it is ~vell to remember that all our descriptions and discussioris are part. of the history of a form of life which is still evolving. The definitive word on the Church has yet to be. spoken; how much more so for religious life! Surely there is room for more than one view. Given the conservative (preservative) nature of religious writing in general, the document of n~cessity shows a rootedness in .th+ past and a somewhat unwilling concession to the exigencies of the contempo~rary scene. But it has definitely advanced beyond positions of twenty years ago, evincing a greater understanding of different styles of community life, of the need for new forms of service, the mutuality of authority and obedience, and the nature and scope of format~.on. De.spite shortcomings, it is a document we can live and work with. 5111 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 But each of us comes to the reading of Essential Elements with particular baggage of our own baggage which may lead us to accept or reject the document out of hand. I would now like to consider some of the obstacles in the way of an honest approach to Essential Elements. Today we hear a great deal about tension: tension headaches and tensions between the super-powers; harmful tensions and creative tensions; interpersonal and intrapersonal tensions. It is the last-n~med--intrapersonal--that I want to speak aboui. All of. us necessarily operate with inner tensions which can be destructive or helpful depending on how successfully we achieve a creative balance. Most ofour specific tensions can be gro.uped under the master category of a tension between the world of desire and the world of limitsP~ A consideration of this topic may furnish some insights on our attitude to the Church in general and to Essential Elements in particular. It does noi require much reflection on the data of our experience to show that human thoughts and feelings oscillate between the poles of great expectations--for ourselves and our world and a depressed.recognition of the barriers imposed by our finiteness. Lumen Gentium says it well: ¯ . tl~e modern world shows itself at once powerful and weak. capable of the noblest deeds or the foulest . The truth is that the imbalances under which the.modern world labors are.linked with that more basic imbalance rooted in the heart of man. For ~n man 'himself many elements wrestle with each other. Thus. on the one hand? as a creature he experiences his limitations in a multitude of ways. On the other, he feels himself to be boundless in his desires and summoned to a higher life.52 The language of Lumen Gentium is abstract and non-specific, but practical examples from everyda3~ life are not lacking, The realm of desires is the realm of imagining, questioning, fantasizing--outside space and time where the human spirit meets no fixed limits. We can thirst to be theacme of beauty or charm, to attain all wealth or knowledge, to abolish in~hstice and brifig peace to the world. No sooner do we pe,rceive something to be good than we can desire it. But the moment we attempt to actualize our desire we meet limits, for every acl of choice is an act of self-limitation as well. Some of these limits are built in: our sex, race, nationality. Others are products of our environment, training and education. Our desire for knowledge is contained by our mental ability, educationai opportun!ties or financial status. We can be overwhelmed by these' limits and refuse to work at transcending them or we can unrealistically deny their existence and embark on a Faustian venture doomed to failure. We mu~t have a healthy ~respect for limitations, but not settle for them. Conversely, like Daniel we must bemen and women of desire, aspiring to'excellence, but aware of limits, l~esires and limits interact: they test, correct and sustain each other. in a particular situation, however, we may deny one or the other and fail to hold them in creative (ension. We haay objectify our boundaries, making a value of our very limitations. Or we may objectify our aspirations, setting them Ecclesial Relationships for Religious / 5"19 forth as values in themselves and refusing to acknowledge any restrictions upon them.53 Briefly, and perhaps simplistically, a religious with a strongly institutional view of the Church may hold such a position through a kind of mindless loyalty which relieves her or him of responsibility for life decisions. Likewise the one who places no curb upon personal autonomy and independence may dismiss outright directives coming from hierarchical sources. The refusal to transcend limits or the failure to acknowledge them results in a harmful imbalance leading to depression, anger and arrogance. Some examples will illustrate our subject at hand relatedness to the Church. In the first place, we come up against the need to find a balance between desires and limits as we reflect upon the respective demands of tradition and experience. T.S. Eliot has observed that the mature poet must possess the historical sense--a perception not only of the past as past but of its, abiding presence: the poet must write with all of Europe in his bones.54 This kind of interaction is hard to come by, the more so in contemporary society. Our age of pluralism and personalism stresses, and quite rightly, the role of experience in living responsibly. Pope John noted this in his opening address .to the Vatican Council: ¯. the spirit of the ~,hole world expects a step forward toward a doctrinal penetration and a formation of consciousness ~n faithful and perfe~:t conformity to the authentic doctrine, which, however, should be studied and expounded through the methods ofo research and through the literary forms of modern thought. The substance of the ancient deposit of faith is one thing; the way in which it is presented is another.5~ Contemporary iheology¯in general works to correlate the classic formula-tions of faith with today's experience of salvation, a task involving past and present, tradition and experience in a process which is the pro.duct, not of caprice or whim. but of a.reflecting faith communityP6 In the particular theology of religious life we must bring our own experience to bear on the received teaching about that life. Ideally interaction should result, but realistically one or other element tradition or experience may be minimized or denied. A religious may place such restrictions on consulting the data of experience that he becomes frozen in the past. If the only thing necessary is to rec~ix~e a pat:adigm of religious life from others--whether the constitutions of my institute or hierarchical pronouncements--then personal experience is of small moment. Life then becomes a constant, perhaps defiant, reiteration of tradition. Personalism. pluralism, consultation of experience are all regarded as a betrayal of religious life. When a document like Essential Elements is received it is absorbed but held apart from the events in life which legitimately modify its content. On the other hand, a religious can objectify her own experience, making it the primary judge of reality, canonizing it to the point of neglect or denial Of the place of tradition in religious life, with a consequent dismissal of whatever does not accord with individual experience. But raw experience has little value. T.S. Eliot mourns,."We have had the experience but missed the meaning.'~7 Constitutions must do more than describe contemporary experience; they 590 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 must submit that experience to the light of the Gospel and traditional teaching concerning religious life. An oft-repeated criticism of Essential Elements is its failure adequately to acknowledge "the American e.~xperience," both the impact of democracy upon the experienc~e of religious life'in general, and the more specific American experience of the past two "decades of adaptation and renewal. Religious everywhere exist within the context of a particular culture which profoundly affects and shapes their lives. In the United States these past twenty years have witnessed the effort to articulate a form of religious life which is genuine and at the same time inculturated, that is, disengaged from the structures and customs of the past and brought into' line with contemporary American life. Inculturation is a desideratum, but so is "counterculturation," particularly for religious. Once again we .are in the world of desires and limits. The requirement~ of a culture often lead to a re-interpretation of the founder's charism. But not all elements of a culture are compatible with the Gospel; some are hostile. For authentic religious life there must be a continuing dialogue between the Gospel and its cultural expression. Let us look at another example. The Council calls us to be a pilgrim people, wayfaring Christians who have here no lasting ~ity. But the attitude proper to a pilgrim is threatened by the nester (who wants to move not at all) and by the rover (for whom change is the very stuff of life). The nester is all too willing to stay put. Religious 'who ' welcome the document's stre~s upon corporate mission, seeing in it the preservation of the founder's charism and an assurance of Church approval, need to reflect whether such l~oyalty does not stem from an exaggerated nesting instinct which makes thefia satisfied with limitations, freeing them from the risk of other works or from~the challenging forms of community and prayer which new tasks might demand. Nesters t~est comfortably in their limits, taking a passive stance and opting for the security provided by familiar structures. Nesters are often hard workers, but comfort and security, not challenge and growth, are their expectations of religious life. The kingdoffi °lSossesses for them no sense of urgency. Because such persons often do not think for themselves, they readily go along with the crowd and compromise values if this will help mairitain the status quo. To move frbm nester to pilgrim the situation must be acknowledged~ for what it is: a refusal to transcend limits and take responsibility for life. Such recognit.ion brings freedom to move beyond self, freedom to become a genuine pilgrim. Rovers too have difficulty balancing desires and limits, but of a different kind. Such religious entertain exaggerated notions of what (hey or their institute could accomplish if freed from hierarchical trammels. In warnings about scattering resources over too many works the rovers see only an encouragement of timid mediocrity and they are resentful of anyone who suggests parameters to their utopian schemes. Moving from project to project, they are voluble about what they are against--less clear about what they stand Ecclesial Relationships for Religious / 521 for. Destructive anger is often operative under the guise of zeal for the kingdom and service for the oppressed. A true pilgrim spirit cannot be attained without recognizing the poverty imposed by limitations. Johannes Metz observes: Through the transcendental expanse of his spirit, man lives in the open air. in the future of unlimited possibilities. His task is not to lose himself there, 15ut to make something of himself through them. He makes them his potentialities by his historically unique and irrevocable personal decision, through which he finds a foothold in the th~:ust of his existence. Doubtless we could multiply instances of such tensions within us. Let a final eXample serve as summary: the struggle between self-fulfillme~nt and self-transcendence. Thanks to developments in philo.sophy and the behavioral sciences our society has passed from institutionalism to personalism,,from an often static essentialism to existentialis.m. Religious life has reflected these changes. As novices many of us were "trained" (and the word is significant) in a traditional ethic Of self-denial and conformity; now we are confronted with healthful challenges to personal growth through responsible decision-making. Where once we awaited assignment at the discretion of the superior, now our gifts, our talents---even our preferences--are consulted and respected. The insights of psychology tell us that much of the discipline of the past--the asceticism, penitential practices, total-institution structures--was not the excellent means for personal development we once thought. Scores of institutes have mounted extensive programs: workshops in psychology, assertiveness training, human potential and the like--all dedicated to the self-actualization of the religious. This is to the good. Religious who were formerly content to let life happen to them, with limits imposed' by institutional structures and custom, have awakened to a sense:of freedom, responsibility and renewed vitality. They can now rejoice in new ways of acting unfettered by pessismism] legalism or guilt. But the journey°to self-fulfillment has pitfalls of its own. The goods of p~rsonal growth and independence can assume top rank in a hierarchy of objectified, individualistic values. The movement to actualize human potential can be trivialized tb the point of a petulant "doing my thing." Poised against the desire fore fulfillment is the Gospel call to conversion and self-transcendence. Behavioral scientists ask how the self of psychology and the self of the Gospel can be reconciled and some of them see no possibility of this. An easy appeal to the slogan, "The glory of God is man fully alive," would seem to suggest that the path of self-actualization is the only one we need to ~follow. But Jesus' directives about denying oneself, taking up the cross and even dying are still normative for the Christian. The dichotomy between self-fulfillment and the demands of Christian spirituality can be bridged only by a transcendence that reaches beyond both self-actualization and self-denial. Our deepest yearnings-- the desire for meaning, truth, value, love---can be satisfied only when we shift our primary focus from our personal needs and desires to the needs of others. It is to such transcendence that John Paul calls the whole Church, but 522 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 especially us religious, inviting us to live more intensely .the mystery of the redemption. It is a call to holiness and renewal, a call to penance and conversion.59 In practical terms the call requires objective and humble evaluation of our life. We can of course choose not to heed this particular appeal. ,We can receive the document as an unwelcome and unwarranted admonition, spend our timelooking for the hidden agenda, fault the document for its omissions and commissions. In such case we have'had the experience but missed the meaning. ~ Essential Elements is an authoritative document, but not a definitive one. Like Lumen Gentium it does not canonize the past nor consecrate tl~e present but prepa.res for the futui'e, not least of all by reason of the fruitful dialogue it can initiate. A healthy realism shows that we are all, hierarchy and religious alike, part of a sinful Church, semperformanda et reformanda. We manifest the mystery of the Lord "ina faithful though shadowed Way.'~0 Let us work to remove the shadows so that we may become those "blazing emblemsTM of the kingdom in a Church which is truly lumen gentium, the light of the world. NOTES ~Hereafter, Essential Elements or EE. The edition used is that of the Daughters of St. Paul, Boston, 1983. ~lts application must be made with due regard for the principles applicable to all magisterial pronouncements. These principles, however, are not always clear. Karl Rahner notes, ~Theology has shown relatively little interest in a more nuanced answer to the question of the proper and permissible relationship of, the average Catholic to the official teaching of the Ch,,urch." See Rahner and K-H. Weger; Our Christian Faith: Answer for the Future (New ~ork: Crossroad, 1981), p. 125. 3EE. 2. 4Lette~ of John Paul II in EE, 4. 51bid. 3. 6EE, 8. 71bid, 10:, 81bid, II. 91bid; 12. ~01bid, 38, 40, 41, 42. ~qbid, 24. ~21bid ~3Hereafter,'LG. The sohrce for this and other documents of Vatican !I is Walter M. Abbott, ed., The Documents of Vatican !! (New York: Herder and Herder, 1966)~ ~4LG, 4. ~sSee Karl Rahner,~Concernfor the Church, Theological Investigations, XX, tr. E. Quinn (New York: Crossroad. 1981), pp, 94--97, ~6"~he disjunctive use of these terms is unfortunate. Karl Rahner notes that "the official element in the Church has a ~zharismatic element. For it is evident that the gifts of the Spirit can only be regulated by a gift of the Spirit. In other words any attempt to regard the official and charisma

Issue 41.3 of the Review for Religious, May/June 1982. ; REVIEW FOR REI.IGIOUS (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 REI.IGIOUS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. © 1982 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 ~'or two years. Other countries: $10.00 a year; $19.00 for two years. For subscription orders or change of address, write: REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Daniel T. Costello, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Book Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor May/June, 1982 Volume 41 Number 3 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph ~. 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 RE~:IEW 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. Laborem Exercens: Themes and Theses Robert F. Morneau Bishop Morneau has commented in this s~me format on two earlier encyclicals: Redemptor Hominis (March, 1980) and Dives in Misericordia (September, 1981). Together with his service as Auxiliary Bishop of Green Bay, Bishop Morneau also serves through the Ministry to Priests Program where he may be addressed: 1016 N. Broadway: De Pere, Wl 54115. Several years ago Studs Terkel published a series of masterfully conducted interviews under the title of Working. People from various fields of life reflected candidly on the meaning or lack of meaning that work had in their lives. What fascinates the reader is the blatant honesty of'those interviewed; they told it the way they experienced it. With deep feeling and perceptive observation, the work-ing people revealed the movement~ of their mind and heart. On September 14, 1981, Pope John Paul II shared his third encyclical letter, Laborem Exercens, with the world. This papal document focuses on the topic of work, that human activity at once so universally experienced and yet so frequently devoid of meaning. What Terkel did on the experiential level, the Holy Father does on the reflective level. We do not find personal interviews with the rank and file but, from a scriptural and faith point of view, a description of the theological underpinning of our obligation to work. Within this perspective he discusses many questions: the nature and meaning of work; the relationship of work to the person, family and society; how work is influenced by various ideologies; the duty and rights of the worker; a spirituality of work. Rather than delineate detailed and specific policies, the encyclical is concerned with articulating certain principles and guidelines to govern the formation of policy for specific situations. When these principles are adequately and properly applied, work helps to build up the world community and becomes a means of safeguarding the humanity of all. These reflections of the Holy Father are extremely relevant. In an age when technology can so easily control the course of history we must hear over and over 322/ Review for Religious, May-June, 1982 again the principle that people have primacy ox)er things. In a period of history that takes for granted exploitation and manipulation as acceptable life-styles, we must have confirmation that persons are ends and not means. In our rapidly moving century that gives low priority to quiet and reflective times, it is healthy to have our attention drawn to an awareness of the importance of rest within the spirituality of work. Written on the ninetieth anniversary of Leo XlIl's Rerum Novarum, this present encyclical continues to remind us of the importance of these social questions and the function that the Church plays in their solution in public life. Theme 1: The Meaning and Dignity of Work Thesis: Work is an active process by which creative and productive persons gain dominion over the earth and achieve fullness as human beings. Understood as a process whereby man and the human race subdue the earth, work corres-ponds to this basic biblical concept only when throughout the process man manifests himself and confirms himself as the one who "dominates" (6). Work is a good thing for man--a good thing for his humanity--because throughout work man not only transforms nature, adapting it to his own needs, but he also achieves fulfillment as a human being and indeed, in a sense, becomes ~more a human being" (9). Man must work, both because th~ Creator has commanded it and because of his humanity. which requires work in order to be maintained and developed. Man must work out of regard for others, especially his own family, but also for the society he belongs to. the country of which he is a member, since he is the heir to the work of generations and at the same time a sharer in building the future of those who will come after him in the succession of history (16). The farmer gazes out on newly acquired property and perceives the rocks, tree stumps and weeds; a year later that same farmer, after much labor, rejoices in an autumn harvest of grain. The artist sits before a small mound of clay: many hours later a finely crafted vessel receives the accolades of admiring friends. The steel worker feeds the furnace kno.wing that when the final product is completed, beams of steel will be available for buildings and bridges. The human person, taking the many resources of the world, fashions them into useful and beautiful objects in the meeting of human needs. This process, both creative and productive, brings order out of chaos. The newly won unity fills the human spirit with a sense of meaning, peace and joy. A radical call to all of us is the call to become human persons. Within that universal vocation work plays a necessary and significant part. Only when we thoughtfully expend the energy given to us do we develop our potential and actualize our gifts. Work and growth demand that we participate in this venture of becoming human. Gifts unemployed atrophy. Needs unmet cause suffering. Lack of human development means boredom and despair. Emerson knew the value of work and its effect on human growth: I hear, therefore, with joy whatever'is beginning to be said of dignity and necessity of labor to every citizen. There is virtue yet in the hoe and the spade; for learned as well as for the Laborem Exercens: Themes and Theses / 323 unlearned hands.* This labor must be balanced and rational, respecting individuals and allowing for personal fulfillment. History provides evidence that when certain forms of work do not have these qualities human beings are dehumanized and even destroyed. In his perceptive' and challenging philosophical treatise, Leisure, the Basis of Culture, the neo-Thomist Josef Pieper describes "workism" as an attitude and ideology that disregards the essential natureof work. Pieper's argument is that work is meaningful only when the human person's dignity is fully appreciated and when the activity of work is complemented by a certain receptivity towards life which is called contemplation. The present encyclical also protects this balance and perspective. Theme 2: The Subjective and Objective Dimensions of Work Thesis: The subjective dimension of work (the dignity of the human person)always has priority over the objective dimension (productivity). The very process of "subduing the earth," that is to say work. is marked in the course of history, and especially in recent centuries; by an immense development of technological means. This is an advantageous and positive phenomenon, on condition that the objective dimension of work does not gain the upper hand over the subjective dimension, depriving man of his dignity and inalienable rights or reducing them (10). ¯. man's dominion over the earth is achieved in and by means of work. There thus emerges the meaning of work in an objective sense, which finds expression in the various epochs of culture and civilization. Man dominates the earth by the very fact of domesticating animals, rearing them and obtaining from them food and clothing he needs, arid by the fact of being able to extract various natural resources from the earth and the seas (5). As a person, man is therefore the subject of work. As a person he works, he performs various actions belonging to the work process: independently of their objective content, these actions must all serve to realize his humanity, to fulfill the calling to be a person that ig'his by reason of his very humanity (6). Work always involves a person, a process and a product. The language of the encyclical refers to the person as the subject of Work (the subjective dimension) while the product is the object of work (the objective dimension). This distinction is important: a product does not have interiority, nor is it a center of thought and love. On the other hand, the human person is spiritual, immortal and called to fullness of life in God. The process of work can take such a direction so as to make a person play the role of a mere tool (cog in the machine). The focus is on productivity. Such a procedure, used in the work world dehumanizes the person and negates the Christian meaning of work. Unfortunately, hi~tory records too many years of such abuse. The Holy Father's analysis of work contains an implicit anthropology, one ~'The American Scholar," in The Selected Writings of Ralph Waldo Emerson. ed. Brooks Atkinson (New York: The Modern Library, 1940), p. 55. ~124 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1982 that has the highest regard for the fullness of human life. Every person has both an inner and outer agenda. Meister Eckhart describes it this way: There are people who squander the strength of their souls in the ouiward man. These are the people, all of whose desires and thoughts turn on transient goods, since they are unaware of the inner person. Sometimes a good man robs his outward person of all the soul's agents, in o'rder to dispatch them on some higher enterprise; so. conversely animal people rob the inner person of the soul's agents and assign them to the outward man. A man may be ever so active outwardly and still leave the inner man unmoved and passive.-~ Both the outer and inner dimensions of work need protection and a sensitive balance. Each has its own unique value. If they are not integrated, a person either "sells his soul to the company store" or falls into a type of narcissism which destroys communal responsibility. Persons have dignity which must not be denied; the work process must be respected as part of God's plan; human life is impossible without those products which meet essential needs. Proper priority and balance in reference to the subjective and objective dimen-sions of work are maintained when reverence is present amongpeople. Only when we stand in awe of every person, only when we hold sacred the gifts of air, water and land, only when we carefully consider the inner dynamism and value of the creative process will we truly appreciate work. Goethe reminds us: "The shudder of ,awe is humanity's highest faculty." This papal docume.nt contains that "shudder of awe.'" Whenever we encounter the handiwork of God, human or otherwise, we bow before the Creator's reflection. The person, the imago Dei, the creative pro-cess and end product of our work demand appropriate respect. Theme 3: The Value Scale of Work Thesis: Work involves three spheres of values: 1)a personal value bringing dignity to the individual; 2) a family value forming the foundation of communal life; and 3) a societal value enriching the common good. It (workJ is not only good in the sense that it is useful or something to enjoy; it is also good as being someth!ng worthy, that is to say, something that corresponds to man's dignity, that expresses this dignity and increases it. If one wishes to define more clearly the ethical meaning of work. it is this truth that one must particularly keep in mind Work constitutes a foundation for the formation of family life. which is a natural right and something that man is called to . In a way, work is a condition for making it possible to found a family, since the family requires the means of subsistence which man normally gains through work. Work and industriousness also influence the whole process of education in the family, for the very reason that everyone "becomes a human being" through, among other things, work. and becoming a human being is precisely the main purpose of the whole process of education (10). ¯. it (society) is also a great historical and social incarnation of the work of all generations. All of this brings it about that man combines his deepest human identity with membership of a nation, and intends his work also to increase the common good developed together with his '-Meister Eckhart, trans. Raymond B. Blakncy (Ne~' York: Harper Torchbooks). p. 87. Laborem Exercens: Themes and Theses compatriots, thus realizing that in this way work serves to add to the heritage of the whole human family, of all the people living in the world (10). The valuing process determines life. Values lead to an internal judgment which in turn dictates actions. The degree of worth we assign to individuals and things has far-reaching consequences. Within the complex va.luing system, work plays a major role since it touches personal lives, family life, and even national and international communities. The value assigned to work in these three areas will affect, for good or ill, the course of history. Family life remains a pivotal force in society, That life is threatened by an increasing number of divorces, the current mobility and the impact of the mass media. Unemployment is another threat which can lead to "social disaster" (18). Further, inadequate wages deprive the family of essential goods; lack of proper benefits increase anxiety; dissatisfaction with one's job has an impact on spouse and children. Work has a wider circle than just family life--it influences all of society. When people are given proper.job opportunities the common good is served and society is healthy. When work fosters a sense of cooperation among employees and employers, a new spirit of solidarity is felt in the wide? society. When work is done so that future generations will be served and helped by conserving our resources and protecting our, environment, society ,is being given responsible models. We have reached a point where this type of social consciousness can no longer remain merely a hope; if it does not become a fact, our society may well be doomed. Few people can grow interiorly without a sense of achievement. When work is done well, confidence and a sense of self-worth increase. Further, in fulfilling the commandment of God that we do work, we contribute to God's plan. The brick we add has eternal significance; no one else can do the work assigned to us. A prayer attributed to Cardinal Newman conveys the importance and the enigma of each person's work: ~ God has created me to do him some definite service: he has committed some work to me which he has not committed to another. I have my mission--I may never know it in this life. but I shall be told it in the next. 1 am a link in a chain, a bond of connection between persons. He has not created me for naught. I shall do good, I shall do his work. I shall be an angel of peace, a preacher of truth in my own place while not intending it--if I do but keep his commandments. Therefore 1 will trust him. Whatever. wherever I am. I can never be thrown away. If I am in sickness, my sickness may serve him: in perplexity, my perplexity may serve him: if I am in sorrow, my sorrow may serve him. He does nothing in vain. He knows what he is about. He may take away my friends. He may throw me among strangers. He may hide my future from me--still he knows what he is about. Theme 4: Work and the Mystery of Creation Thesis: Work is inextricably bound up with the mystery of God's creative activity: each person shares in the wonder of creation through work. The knowledge that by means of work man shares in the work of creation constitutes the 326 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1982 most profound motive for undertaking it in various sectors 125). In every phase of the development of his work man comes up against the leading role of the gift made by '*nature." that is. in the final analysis, by the Creator. At the beginning of man's work is the mystery of creation. This affirmation, already indicated as my starling point, is the guiding thread of this document (12). The word of God's revelation is profoundly marked by the fundamen~'al truth that man, created in the image of God, shares by his work in the activity of the Creator and that, within the limits of his own human capabilities, man in a sense continues to develop that activity, and perfects it as he advances further and further in the discovery of the resources and values contained in the whole of creation (25). Two qualities identify our humanness: depende~nce and creativity. All is gift and we have an absolut~ dependence on our Creator. Humble acceptance of these faith facts sets us free. Through the creative process order is extracted from chaos, unity is chiseled out of diversity, beauty is captured in stone, word or canvass. As Ge,rald Vann remarks: The so-called industrial revolution ran its course: and ende.d by depriving the mass of men of a fundamental right, of that without which the personality is doomed to sterility and despair: the, creativity which is the counterpart of creatureliness.3 Within these two qualities of our humanness are the duty and right of work. Cooperation can be a most thrilling human experience. God longs for us to work with him in the fulfillment of the plan of salvation. Our very activity is an essential ingredient in the building of the earth and of the kingdom! The dignity of such a mission is immeasurabli~. Yet that is precisely what our scriptural and theological understanding of work indicates: the people of God continue to share in the work of creation.i The Vatican I1 document Gaudium et Spes drives home the reality that we are a Church in the modern world, an "in" that means involve-ment. Any mentality that either despises history or refuses to invest time and energy in improvement of the world goes contrary to the Scriptures and the teaching of the Church. Participation in the mystery of creation is threatened in our time. The buildup of armaments, sufficient now to many times over destroy our planet, leads many to an attitude of pessimism if not despair. Such a consciousness causes paralysis and the mission of work goes unaccomplished. The land is not tilled, book,,are not written, songs are not sung, families are not raised, conflicts are not resolved, resources are exploited. Why not? Annihilation is not only possible but likely! Suspicion is abroad: our times are less creative because of an annihilation attitude. Perhaps we can learn a lesson from Anne Frank. With bombs dropping near her hideout and with death a constant threat, she continued to study her history lesson. Life goes on! Christian faith calls us to our creative work regardless of the dark clouds that surround us. And, of course, one of the most urgent creative 3Gerald Vann, St. Thomas Aquinas (New York: Benziger Bros., 1947), p. 27. Laborem Exercens: Themes and Theses works is peace. Our work must bring about a world in which war becomes impossible. Theme 5: A Spirituality of Work Thesis." Work is a means by which persons grow in union with God and participate in the paschal m.vster.v. She (the Church) sees it as her particular duty to form a spirit.uality of work which will help all people to come closer, through work. to God. the Creator and Redeemer, to participate in his salvific plan for man and the world and to deepen their friendship with Christ in their lives by accepting, through faith, a living participation in his threefold mission as Priest. Prophet and King. as the Second Vatican Council so eloquently teaches (24). This Christian spirituality should be a heritage shared by all. Especially in the modern age. the spirituality of work should show the maturity called for by the tensions and restlessness of mind and heart (25). Since work in its subjective aspect is always a personal action, an actus personae, it follows that the whole person, body and spirit, participates in it, whether it is manual or intellectual work. It is also to the whole person that the word of the living God is directed, the evangelical message of salvation, in which we find many points which concern human work and which throw particular light on it. These points need to be properly assimilated: an inner effort on the part of the human spirit, guided by faith, hope and charity, is needed in order that through these points, the work of the individual human tSeing may be given the meaning which it has in the eyes of God and by means of which work enters into the salvation process on a par with the other ordinary yet particularly important components of its texture (24). The farmer brings the seeds of the field to Eucharist for a special blessing on rural life day, thereby exercising an act of faith in God as creator of the seed and provider for its growth. The newspaper editor cries out against the injustices toward the elderly, thereby fulfilling his prophetic role of denouncing all that infringes upon human dignity and freedom. The president of a country, through policies that properly distribute funds, insures that the poor and needy have their due. The people of God are scattered throughout every profession and work situation and it is precisely in that context that they exercise their spirituality. Union with God is achieved not only through liturgical worship and the celebra-tion of the sacrament. Holiness is gained as well by finding Christ in our brothers and sisters, in the working of the land, in the artistic and intellectual achievements. All of life, permeated by God's presence and love, becomes a grace opportunity and can further the process of salvation. A spirituality of work demands three things: vision, grace and commitment. An abiding vision of the divine presence is a gift of faith. Work is not restricted to the narrow sensate culture (limiting work to the confines of time/space) nor to a humanistic betterment of the world, important as that is. Rather, faith vision situates our work as an integral part of God's salvific will. Grace, the free gift of God's self-giving which transforms our minds and hearts, is the heartbeat of a spirituality for work. Empowered by the Spirit, our work has a certain quality and tonality that makes everything different. There is a freshness, newness and sense of possibility in what is done. Eventually the work will incarnate that grace as 321~ / Review for Religious, May-June, 1982 another sign of God's favor. Further, commitment to the person of Christ by sharing in his life, death and resurrection undergirds all Christian spirituality. The paschal mystery draws us into the dying/rising process of Christian existence. Work constantly involves dying and rising; done in union wiih Christ it allows us to become the person God calls us to be. In Zorba the Greek, Nikos Kazantzakis has one of the characters describe his experience, "I at last realized that eating was a spiritual function and that meat, bread and wine were the raw materials from which the mind is made.TM No longer is there a harsh dichotomy between the secular and the sacred, the flesh and the spirit, heaven and earth. A false dualism is rejected and the unity of existence maintained. Work and worship are not mutually exclusive; they are meant to complement and enrich one another. For some workers their highest moments of prayerful praise and thanksgiving are in the midst of their work experience. A mother caring for her child, the artist sharing the masterpiece, the nurse weeping with the terminally ill, the scientist discovering a new atomic particle, the scholar articulating an insight: nurturing, creating, caring, wondering, discovering, sharing --moments of work, grounded in sacrifice, discipline and great effort, and moments of grace. All of this contributes.to a spirituality of work because to live in God's presence with sensitivity, awareness and love is to live a spiritual life. Theme 6: Work and Questions of Justice Thesis: Work plays a significant function in the justice question: there can be no justice unless work~ is available to people in such a way that basic rights and duties are protected and promoted. In order to achieve social justice in the various parts of the world, in the various countries, and in the relationships betwyen them, there is need for ever new movements of solidarity of the workers and with the workers. This solidarity must be present whenever it is called for by the social degrading of the subject of work, by exploitation of the workers, and by the growing areas of poverty and hunger (8). It must be stressed that the constitutive element in this progress and also the most adequate way to verify it in a spirit of justice and peace, which the Church proclaims and for which she does not cease to pray to the Father of all individuals' and of all peoples, is the continual reappraisal of man's work, both in the aspect of its objective finality and in the aspect of the dignity of the subject of all work, that is to say, man. The progress in question must be made through man and for man and it must produce its fruit in man. A test of this progress will be the increasingly mature recognition of the purpose of wbrk and increasingly universal respect for the rights inherent in work in conformity with the dignity of man, the subject of work (18). While work, in all its ~any senses, is an obligation, that is to say a duty, it is also a source of rights on the part of the worker. These rights must be examined in the broad context of human rights as a whole, which are connatural with man, and many of which are proclaimed by various international organizations and increasingly guaranteed by the individual States for their citizens. Respect for this broad range of human rights constitutes the fundamental condition for peace in the modern world (16). 4Nikos Ka~,antzakis, Zorba the Greek (New York: Simon and Schuster, 1952), p. 79. Laborem Exercens: Themes and Theses Whenever relationships are established, certain issues of justice automatically arise. By its very definition the work relationship between employer and employee presents a mutuality of duties and rights. The encyclical addresses itself primarily to threatened rights of the employee, giving little attention to the dutie.s of the employee toward the employer. Employees' rights are numerous: the right to a just wage, the right to social benefits that ensure life and health, the right to rest, the right to pension and insurance, the right to suitable working environments, the right to strike under certain circumstances, the right to form voluntary associa-tions, the right of the disabled to productive activity suited to them, the right to emigrate in search of work. The correlative list would include the duties that come to the employer or society because of these rights. This area of justice is specific and measurable; much honesty, dialogue and planning are necessary if the ideals is to be achieved. The linkage between justice and peace is dearly articulated: Commitment to justice must be closely linked with commitment to peace in the modern world (2). Respect for this broad range of human rights constitutes the fundamental condition for peace in the modern world (16). Whenever rights are denied or duties neglected,,a profound disturbance shakes the life of individuals and society at large. Theologically we call this sin, ethically we call it injustice, sociologically we call it alienation. Regardless of the language system, the experience and its consequences are clear: the order of God's plan is broken and until reconciliation comes about, until justice is done, the fragmenta-tion continues and peace is not found in the land. Mere absence of war or conflict is not peace; rather, it is an ontological state of being, experienced when relation-ships~ are properly ordered. If charity begins at home, all the more so justice. Thus the Church as an institution must constantly strive for justice and peace within her own immediate membership. The fact that the above rights reside in her own personnel imposes an obligation on the Church as employer. This "beginning at home" is significant since authenticity of teaching and preaching constantly seeks verification in prac-tice. When the Church both teaches justice and lives it, the world has a model which affirms that the realities of justice and peace are truly possible. Theme 7: Work and Various ideologies Thesis: Work demands a meaning and various interpretations are offered by Liberalism, Marxism and Christian theology. The Marxist program, based on the philosophy of Marx and Engels, sees in class struggle the only way to eliminate class injustices in society and to eliminate the classes themselves. Putting this program into practice presupposes the collectivization of the means of production so that, through the transfer of these means from private hands to the collectivity, human labor will be preserved from exploitation (11). This consistent image, in which the principle of the primacy of person over things is strictly preserved, was broken up in human thought, sometimes after a long period of incubation in practical living. The break occurred in such a way that labor was separated from capital and 33{~ Review for Religious, May-June, 1982 set m opposition to it, and capital was set in oppositioh to labor, as though they were two impersonal forces, two production factors juxtaposed in the same "economistic" perspective. This way of stating the issue contained a fundamental error, what we call the error of economism, that of considering human labor solely according to its economic purpose. This fundamental error of thought must be called an error Of materialism, in that economism directly or indirectly ~ncludes a conviction of the primary and superiority of the material, and directly or indirectly places the spiritual and the personal (man's activity, moral values and such matters) in a position of subordination to material reality (13). The only chance there seems to be for radically overcoming this error (primitive capitalism and liberalism) is through adequate changes both in theory and in practice, changes in line with the definite conviction of the primacy of the person over things, and of human labor over capital as a whole collection of means of production (13). Absolutizing is that radical instinct in thought and behavior that makes one idea or value the only idea or value. The label we attach to such a tendency is "isms": e.g., secularism holds that all reality is limited to this world--there is no transcendence; humanism measures all of life in the light of the human person-- God finds no home here; rationalism restricts valid knowledge to that gained by reason--faith vision is excluded; workism so prizes achievement and productivity that leisure (receptivity-contemplation) is meaningless if not downright evil. The encyclical deals with this proclivity to absolutize and firmly rejects certain specific "isms" that surround work. Anathema sit: Marxism that seeks a collectivism of means of production so as to infringe upon the right to private property; liberalism that fails to take into account the common good in its worship of primitive capitalism; economism that views human labor solely in terms of its economic purposes; materialism that subordinates the spiritual/personal aspects of life to material reality. Christian theology consistently seeks a balanced position that protects moral and personal and spiritual values. Thus private property is a basic' right, though the common good will severely limit this right or even exclude it under very restricted circumstances. Economic profit is necessary and justifiable but never at the expense of human dignity. Matter is part of God's creation but is subordinated to the value of the human person. The insights of Scripture and tradition are brought to bear upon the complex reality of the work world. Basic principles are articulated through careful theological reflection which provides a theory that will hopefully inform our action. The Church is not reluctant to speak out with a strong prophetic voice whenever there is encroachment upon the rights of people, be that encroachment by employer or employee. Jacob Bronowski states that "without astronomy it is really not possible to find your way over great distances, or even to have a theory about the shape of the earth and the land and sea oh it."~ Part of the Church's mission is to provide a theologicalastronomy by which the complex components of life can be assessed and prudently judged. The present papal document serves a timely purpose: it ~Jacob Bronowski, The Ascent of Man (Boston: Little, Brown and Company, 1973), p. 190. Laborem Exercens: Themes and Theses articulates a theology and a spirituality from which to observe and practice the command of God that we work, thereby building up a more human community and furthering the growth of the kingdom. Such an astronomy is no luxury, it is an absolute necessity. Theme 8: Work and its Abuse Thesis: Work, which is meant to humanize and develop persons, can become destructive when means become ends. ¯. it {the anlinomy between labor and capital) originated in the whole of the economic and social practice of that time, the time of the birth and rapid development of industrialiTation, in which what was mainly seen was the possibility of vastly increasing material wealth, means while the end, that is to say, man, who should be served by the means, was ignored (13). The primary basis of the value of work is man himself, who is its subject. This leads imme-diately to a very important conclusion of an ethical nature: however true it may be that man is destined for work and called to it, in the first place work is "for man"and not man "for work" (6}. The very process of "subduing the earth." that is to say work. is marked in the course of history and especially in recent centuries, by an immense development of technological means. This is an advantageous and positive phenomenon, on condition that the objective dimension of work does not gain the upper hand over the subjective dimension, depriving man of his dignity and inalienable rights or reducing them (i0). A gospel question focuses our attention: is man made for the Sabbath or the Sabbath for man? Jesus had to deal with the means/end question and there is nothing unclear about his answer: the Sabbath is .made for man. Ambiguity characterizes some contemporary questions arising from the world of work: What is the relationship between technology and the human person? What status does the individual have in large multinational corporations? When transfers are made, what "considerations are given to the worker's family? If profits will be less but the work situation is more humanizing, what kinds of decisions are made? Is man made for work or work for man? Historically the document states that certain means have usurped the prerogatives of the end; technology (means) has become the master and the human person (end), the slave. At this juncture, justice and peace are no more. The whole order is overturned, human freedom is lost. Simone Weil, a strong prophetic voice for the ~,alue of work in the first half of this century, worked in factories so as to experientially learn the workers' situation. Her experience was not a happy one: workers were dehumanized because they were treated simply as cogs in a large, productive m~chine. Upon reading Homer's Iliad, she extracts a universal truth about evil that applies to our present discussion: Thus in this ancient and wonderful poem there already appeared the essential evil besetting humanity, the substitution of means for ends.6 ~The Simone Weil Reader. ed, George A. Panichas (New York: David McKay Company, Inc., 1977), p. 138. 3~12 / Review for Religious, Ma.v-June, 1982 What is so horrendous is that often this process of evil is unconscious and unin-tended. The means we use for produiztivity are happily introduced. Suddenly we wake up one morning and come to realize, that we are controlled by the very process we devised. The underlying question is one of freedom, a freedom that protects our humanity and a freedom to use tools of production wisely. Such a freedom comes only from hard-won knowledge: we cannot make prudent choices when ignorant of facts and circumstances. Education is of greatest importance here. All people involved in the working community must maintain a high level of attentiveness to attitudes, means of production, societal tendencies, subtle shifts in values. The means/end dilemma must not be blurred. Melville, in his classic Moby Dick, comments that "ignorance is the parent of fear."7 Societal fears often arise because we are ignorant of the proper relationship between means and end. With increased knowledge we are hopeful that fear will be dissipated and our freedom regained. Theme 9: Work and the Common Good Thesis: Work, through the use of natural and personal resources, is an essential force to achieve the common good. ¯. society--even when it has not yet taken on the mature form of a nation--is not only the great ~educator" of every man, even though an indirect one (because each individual absorbs within the family the contents and values that go to make up the culture of a given nation): it is also a great historical and social incarnation of the work of all generations. All of this brings it about that man combines his deepest human identity with membership of a nation, and intends his work also to increase the cor~mon good developed together with his compatriots, thus realizing that in this way work serves to add to the heritage of the whole human family, of all the people living in the world (16). Rational planning and the proper organization of human labor in keeping with individual societies and States should also facilitate the discovery of the right proportions between the different kinds of employment: work on the land. in industry, in the various services, white-collar work and scientific or artistic work, in accordance with the capacities of individuals: and for the common good of each society and of the whole of mankind (18). Here we must return once more to the first principle of the whole ethical and social order. namely, the principle of the common use of goods. In every system, regardless of the funda-mental relationships within it between capital and labor, wages, that is to say remuneration for work, are still a practical means whereby the vast majority of people have access to those goods which are intended for common use: both the good of nature and manufactured goods (19). In the document Gaudium et Spes, the fathers of the Second Vatican Council described the common good in these terms: Now. the common good embraces the sum of those conditions of social life by which individuals, families and groups can achieve their own fulfillment in a relatively thorough and ready way (74). 7Herman Melville, Moby Dick (New York: The Literary Guild of America, Inc., 1949), p. 17. Laborem Exercens: Themes and Theses / 333 Although somewhat nebulous in the abstract, the common good is extremely concrete and pragmatic in experience. Yet certain cultural attitudes towards pri-vate goods and vested self-interest make it difficult for the relationship between work and the common good to be properly understood. One such attitude regards comm~on good items (parks, public buildings, and so forth) as areas of exploita-tion, with no sense of personal responsibility for their upkeep or cleanliness. A mentality of privatized ownership threatens the realization of the common good. Through work 1 will take as much as 1 can without any thought of.making my contribution to the commonweal. Various writers8 are beginning to articulate a public theology and notions of a church which help to provide a vision for the protection of the common good through responsible work and concern. Several years ago there was a global experience that had the potentiality to develop social consciousness for the common good. For the first time in history, through the technology of cameras, we saw ourselves, the planet earth, from the moon. Hurling through space, like people on a small raft, brought us a realization that we are all in this together. The activity of one affects the activity of all. Responsible Work and sharing enriches the human family; failure to do so dimin-ishes and deprives people of quality life. Perhaps the moon photograph has been blurred already and the strong sense of interdependence to which we are called has been obscured by innate avariciousness. Is work done primarily for profit and personal gain? Have we forgotten the common good or disregarded it as some utopian dream? Two types of people have been known throughout history as truly human and noble: people of compassion and people of hospitality. The former have a heart that is moved deeply by the joys and sufferings of others. A'basic affinity with human experience resides deep within the being of compassionate people. Hospi-tality, that gracious welcoming of the stranger-into personal space and time, creates an environment in which the common good is realized. Regardless of.one's employment, the work~ of compassion and hospitality are universal vocations and only when they are exercised, thus producing the common good, do individual goods have any value whatever. The paradox of the gospel grain of wheat is lived again. Theme I0: Work and Communily Thesis: Work builds community by uniting people into a powerful solidarity. In fact. the family is simultaneously a community made possible by work and the first school of work, within the home, for every person (10). The call to solidarity and common action addressed to the worker--especially to those engaged in narrowly specialized, monotonous and depersonalized work in industrial plants, when the machine tends to dominate man--was important and eloquent from the point of sSee Martin E. Marty's The Public Church (New York: Crossroad, 1981)and Parker J. Palmer's The Company o.f Strangers (New York: Crossroad. 198 I). 334 / Review for Religious, Ma.v-June, 1982 view of social ethics. It was the reaction against the degradation of man as the subject of work, and against the unheard-of accompanying exploitation in the fields of wages, working condi-tions and social security for the worker. This reaction united the working world in a commu-nity marked by great solidarity (8). It is characteristic of work that it first and foremost unites people. In this consists its social power: the power to build a community. In the final analysis, both those who work and those who manage the means of production or who own them must in some way be united in this community 120). Communities are formed when there is a common sense of identity, when there is a commitment to a specific value system, when lives are shared by mutual experience. Many work situations have these three qualities. A good schobl faculty know who they are, are committed to truth and its various expressions, and share lives professionally and, to some degree, socially. A professional sports team working together for several years establishes a strong communal bond. Work has the potential to unite people and form community, i.e., a style of work that is balanced and. person centered. What is intriguing is that often the bond of com-munity happens without conscious planning; it is a side effect of deep c6operation. Human life is complex. Like a spider's web, there are many intersecting lines in our relationships and in our multiple communities, e.g., The community to which I belong is, of course, not a static one. Sometimes it is the commu-nity of my wife and myself and my family: at other times that of my relations, of my friends, of my work colleagues, of my city or nation or international grouping. My task in each different community varies according to the particular community I am being consciously part of at any time. In some communities, I am a key figure: in others, of lesser or minimal importance. But in all of them I have a function, a duty and a responsibility and I believe I will be judged on my performance of these at the end of my time. Often I do not know exactly what that function is--but I know that basically it is to be a harmonizing influence, a peacemaker, a go-between, a catalyst, a bringer-out of good qualities in others for the sake of a group.'~ This vision of community and work depicts the range of groupings in one's life and the specific functions that we are to play. The notion of facilitator may accurately describe "the work" (the process of life itself) that will build any community. We facilitate relationships by bringing love and concern which, in turn, bring about peace and oneness. The Gospel of John states that God is always working. Jesus presents himself as the waiter, serving at table those who come for life-giving food. The thrust behind this work is community, to build and complete the Fi~ther's kingdom. Thus the dignity of the vocation of work becomes clear: as co-worker with the Lord we participate in the process of reconciliation, bringing all creation back to the Father. Whatever our task in life, however sublime or humble, we lovingly accept the charge given us and contribute to the realization of the Father's plan. Adveniat regnum ! ~On the Run: Spirituality for the Seventies, ed. by Michael F. McCauley (Chicago: The Thomas More Association. 1974). p. 138. Reflections on Leadership in the Spirit of Jesus Cecilia Murphy, R.S.M. Sister Cecilia Murphy is the President of the Sisters of Mercy of Pittsburgh. In the issue of January, 1976, Sister shared her reflections on the chapter experience of her community. In the present article, a talk given at their congregational meeting of March, 1982, she reflects on her experience of leadership in her community. Sister Cecilia resides at 3333 Fifth AveA Pittsburgh, PA 15213. Living leadership in the spirit of Jesus is a challenge to every Christian. Each follower of Jesus is called to "come after Jesus" and to show others the way. Those called to leadership in a religious congregation of Mercy bear a special responsibil-ity in this matter. How can anyone fulfill this task? My reflections on this topic are a result of trying to "bone it'--trying to dig into the essential and offer some thoughts on what is necessary for leadership in Jesus' spirit. We know Jesus through faith--faith in God's word and sacraments; faith in our personal experiences of Jesus. We know from Scripture that Jesus poured himself out for our sakes and that he taught us how to live. The commitment of our lives and our personal prayer have helped us know experientially who Jesus is, how he loves, what he asks of us: Faith, then, is the first essential for leadership. Things are not always clear and efisy, and the felt presence of the Lord is a special and temporary gift. So, the leader needs to pray for a strong faith-life, to make acts of faith, and to live in faith, believing in God's love and fidelity. Sorting out and probing the purpose of life, religious life, and its values are essential to leaders. These exercises focus leaders on "the one thing necessary." They help to keep clear the purpose of religious community and enable leaders to be conscious of the motives, fears, and choices that are operative in life. Jesus probed the meaning of life by withdrawing from others and praying to his Father in secret. Exposure to solitude and openness to God's ways are integral parts of searching. These opportunities enable leaders to be like the violinist who carefully 335 ~136 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1982 tunes the instrument before a symphony. Reflection enables the leader to "be in tune" with the divine pitch. Without confidence in God, religious leadership is impossible. The counsel that Catherine McAuley took to heart, to pray as if everything depended on God and act as if everything depended on us, was not only common sense, it was an inspired statement. As Jesus was ever conscious of his Father's power, so must a leader be! All works concerned with the human spirit are beyond human control. Leaders cannot change another pers6n; God reserves that to himself. Yet a leader is called to use all her human potential to create the best environment, and also to pray in confidence, knowing that God's work is ultimately carried out by God-- sometimes through her. Belief in the value of suffering is an essential for a religious leader. Jesus suffered and died. Our congregation was founded on Calvary; there are no easy roads to Mount Tabor. In each human life suffering is present, but Christians are challenged to "take up the cross." Leaders must attempt to follow the Master to Calvary. The particular kinds of suffering which best make an individual an image of Jesus are known only to the Lord. For the leader, however, many of these have something to do with various kinds of poverty. One form 6f poverty is that of spirit, "Why me, Lord?" the leader asks. "There are others holier, more insightful, more loving, more intelligent, more capable, Why me?" And'the Lord replies, "It was not because you are great but because I am great and want to use your nothingness. Don't question my choice--just cooperate." There is the poverty of unfulfilled expectations--those of the leader and those of other members. Unconsciously, leaders sometimes set expectations for them-selves which could not be fulfilled by five people, let alone one. Consider, then, the 335 members of our congregation, multiply by five, and you will have a sense of the number of expectations placed on a leader. The sense of poverty in facing all these unfulfilled expectations is a cause of great suffering. Dealing in realms beyond one's experience and capabilities creates a sense of poverty. Learning about finances, management, interacting with corporate leaders can cause a sense of being entirely out of one's element. Like Ruth, the leader must try to adapt to alien lands, to grow in new knowledge and allow the pinch of human limitations to be felt. There is the poverty of being in an "iceberg ministry." When 1 ask myself what 1 do, it is very hard to define. So much of a leader's ministry is confidential or invisible to others and sometimes to herself. Members of the congregation may wonder why all the paper communications keep filtering into a small community and exclaim, "Another paper from the Mount!" However, some leader may have worked hours trying to simplify and clarify ideas so that they could be shared with (he membership. Dialogue and interaction with members are an important part of leadership but they, too, are invisible parts of the iceberg. Leaders need. to laugh. Although the gospels do not record Jesus as laughing, we can be sure, since we are made in his image, that Jesus did enjoy life. He had Reflections on Leadership special friends, the disciples. He went off with them, shared special meals with them. Without doubt he must have often suppressed a laugh as he experienced their human condition. Leaders, too, need to relax, to have friends, to take time to unwind and be "at home" with family. Rest is a requirement for all human persons and so must leaders be renewed and refreshed. Refreshment help~ one maintain balance--an essential for leadership. Our "Government Synthesis Statement" makes explicit a tension that is inherent in leadership, the tension between internal and external concerns. How does one balance the call to broader church and civic leadership with the need to provide for the growth and development of the membership? There is no answer to that question, only the ongoing struggle to live authentically in that tension. As Jesus lived the tension of the Agony in the Garden, he prayed for the accomplishment of the Father's will. He prayed for courage to fulfill his mission. Leaders need courage, a courage which is strengthened by conviction; made more difficult by uncertainty. In relating to individuals and the total congregation, the leader needs courage to risk--risk to be wrong even when acting in good faith. Leaders can make mistakes and they need courage to face mistakes honestly. Tomorrow's leaders will also need courage to fulfill our "Government Synthe-sis Statement" which calls them to use our corporate power on behalf of the poor. This challenge will take courage and wisdom on the part of the leaders and generosity and willingness for conversion on the part of the membership. As Jesus listened to Nicodemus, so a leader must listen to God, the members, the Church, the world. Jesus was a sensitive listener when he attempted to deal with the needs of others. In Jesus the leader has the perfect model of attentive listening and response to others. Leadership in religious congregations requires a deep realization of the divine help that comes from the prayers of the sisters. Likewise it calls forth a daily prayer: "Glory to him whose power working in me can do infinitely more than 1 can ask or imagine!" Tedium and Burnout in Religious Life Mary Elizabeth Kenel Dr. K(nel, as well as maintaining a private practice in Washington, is a field supervisor in the pastoral counseling program of Loyola College in Baltimore. She may be addressed at 901 Perry Place, N.E.: Washington; DC 20017. In recent years mu~ch of the research in the area of social psychology has focused on the phenomena of tedium and burnout, primarily as these apply to the workers in the human services fields. These phenomena are by no means limited to members of these groups, however, and researchers are investigating burnout at various phases of the life cycle: the tedium experienced by college students, burn-out in marriage and parenting, and that demonstrated in the mid-life and mid-career crises. Everyone at some time or another is vulnerable to the stresses of tedium and burnout and religious are no exception. Indeed, the very qualities that are com-mon to those aspiring to religious life and a ministry of service tend to render religious as a group vulnerable to the burnout syndrome. The term "burnout" was first introduced by Herbert J. Freudenberger~ in his articles on staff burnout in the help-giving inst.itutions. Since that time a number of other authors have made use of the term and have given it various definitions. Edelwich2 defines burnout as a progressive loss of idealism, energy, and purpose experienced by people in the helping professions as a result of the conditions of their work. Pines and Aronson3 define tedium as the experience of physical, ~ Freudenberger, H. J. "Staff Burn-out," Journal of Social Issues, 1974, 30(I) pp. 159-165. 2Edelwich, J., Burn-Out, Stages of Disillusionment in the Helping Professions. Human Sciences Press, New York, 1980. p. 14. ~Pines, A. M. and Aronson, E., Burnout, From Tedium to Personal Growth, The Free Press, New York. 1981. p. 15. 338 Tedium and Burnout in Religious Life emotional and mental exhaustion characterized by emotional and physical deple-tion and by the negation of one's self, one's environment, one's work, and even one's life. They consider burnout to be identical to tedium in definition and symptoms but apply the term particularly to those who work with people in situations that are emotionally demanding. While both tedium and burnout are accompanied by a constellation of symp-toms that include fatigue, lack of enthusiasm, and feelings of helplessness and hopelessness, burnout may be thought of as a state of mind that afflicts those individuals whose work requires that they pour in much more than they get in return, be that return from clients, patients, students, superiors or peers. The dedicatory nature of the vows can set the stage for burnout. Take, for example, a motto instilled during a novitiate instruction: "Chastity loves without seeking a return." A literal interpretation and acceptance of such an ideal can readily lead to burnout as the religious' energies are depleted over time. One of the biggest difficulties with the concept of burnout, however, is that it has become fashionable, a new item in the evergrowing dictionary of psychobab-ble. Burnout as such has no formal psychiatric status and, indeed, many would see it as depression. The literature, however, tends more and more to distinguish between the two concepts and relates burnout to the environmental stresses under which a person works rather than to intrapsychic forces. The onset of tedium/burnout is rarely the result of a single traumatic or disillusioning event. More typically it is the result of a gradual erosion of strength and spirit. Edelwich,4 for example, recognizes a series.of stages that range from idealistic enthusiasm to apathy. The victims of burnout tend to be those who had once been amoiag the most idealistic and ardent, those who at one time were most enthusiastic and joyful. This is hardly surprising, for nearly every author in the field has noted that in order to burn out one must have been on fire at some point. It is the intent of the remainder of this article to examine the antecedents to burnout and tedium as well as to examine the stages of development that lead fr9m enthusiasm to apathy. To the extent that individual religious and communi-ties can recognize and anticipate burnout they will be better able to avoid the ineffectual, wishful remedies that are often practiced and seek more realistic coping mechanisms. A positive ~pproach to the problems of tedium and burnout, then, will not be based on the hope of total prevention which is almost impossible to achieve, but on the realization that it will happen, even repeatedly, and must be dealt with on an ongbing basis. As with any other life crisis, burnout can be turned to advantage in that it can energize a person to break out of a rut. Creative use of frustration can become a stimulus to the kind of enthusiasm it generally erodes. Antecedents to Burnout Research5 on the phenomenon of burnout as it applies to human service 4Edelwich, J. op. cir. pp. 28-29. 5Pines, A. M., and Aronson, E. op cir., pp. 48-54. 3tll~ / Review for Religious, May-June, 1982 workers has identified three common antecedents that would apply equally well to religious. 1. Work That Is Emotionally Demanding In the human serVice professions people work with others in situations that are emotionally draining over long periods of time, during which they are exposed to their clients' physical, social, and psychological problems and are expected to be both skillful and concerned. A similar expectation is placed on priests, brothers and sisters in virtue of their religious profession, in addition, members of religious groups are frequently actively engaged in human service occupations such as teaching, nursing, and counseling. Think, for example then, of the emotional toll of working with the terminally ill, with the mentally ill, with those who have lost loved ones--especially when one's religious profession means one is also expected to explain "God's Will" in these situations. 2. Characteristics of the Professionals Themselves Pines and Aronson6 note that in the human services the occupational task acts as a screening device that attracts people with particular types of personal attrib-utes. The same is true of religious life. Think of the adjectives used to describe priests and religious in terms of the concept of mirfistry. Words such as dedicated, service, and other-oriented are frequently mentioned. 3. Client-Centered Orientation As is the case for members of human services teams, religious focus on people receiving their service. The role of provider of help, understanding, and support is defined by the client's needs with relatively little attention paid to the needs of the professional or the religious. A strictly client-centered orientation does not permit a symmetrical relationship of mutual give and take. Instead a complementary relationship is set up in which the religious or human service worker is expected to give while the client receives. Common to both situations is a dedicatory ethic that elevates service motives and presents work not merely as a "job" but as a "voca-tion" or "calling" in which the reward is supposed to be inherent in the giving. The Prayer of Saint Francis captures this thought: "It is in giving that we receive . 4. Other Antecedents to Burnout In addition to those areas delineated by Pines and Aronson there are a number of other antecedents to burnout that need to be considered. One is that of a lack of criteria for measuring one's accomplishment. There is sufficient difficulty in attempting to define accomplishments in the therapeutic field. How much more so in th6 religious life. How does one define one's success as nPines, A. M. and Aronson. E. ibid., pp. 51-52. Tedium and Burnout in Religious Ltfe 311"1 a "religious"? Does one play the "numbers game"---how many converts, baptisms, hours of donated service? And if there are no hard-and-fast criteria for success, how then does one set standards for reviewing one's life and work? Another source of difficulty lies in the area of career advancement. Far too often the religious who has entered upon a particular form of active ministry because of a desire to work with people is "promoted" to an administrative posi-tion that. while enlarging his or her sphere of influence, many times results in loss of client contact and ultimately in loss of job satisfaction. Antecedents to Tedium While religious life itself is a form of other-oriented profession in which many members actually do work in the human services area, it also has a bureaucratic and hierarchical structure and as such shares many of the antecedents of tedium found in business or government organizations. The literature describes organizational structure as a major determinant of job performance, satisfaction, and tedium.7 Pines and Aronson8 identified three major antecedents of tedium. 1. Overload Overload is a key concept in studies of job stress and its effect on health and can be viewed as having objective/,su.bjective and quantitative/quali!ative dimen-sions. Objective overload refers to the actual volume of work to be processed per unit of time while subjective overload refers to the person's feeling that there is too much work to be done or that it is too hard. Quantitative overload implies that one actually has more real work than can be handled per unit time. Qualitative overload, on the other hand, indicates that the work load demands skills, knowl-edge or training exceeding that of the person assigned a given task. That objective, quantitative overlo.ad is part and parcel of the daily life of most religious hardly needs mentioning. Schedules tend to be full to overflowing and many a prayer has been offered for a few extra hours in the day as well as another pair of hands. Qualitative overload, however, may be even more stressful in the long run and more likely to induce tedium. In a situation of qualitative overload unrealistic ex, pectations are placed on an individual or group who must then deal not merely with the realities of the workload but with a sense of inadequacy and personal failure when it becomes impossible to live up to those "great expecta-. tions." Fortunately, in more recent years superiors and formation personnel have attempted to see to it that people are trained prior to placement in a specific position. With personnel shortages, however, it is tempting to appeal to the per- 7Armstrong. K. 1. "'How Can We Avoid Burnout. Child Abuse and Neglect: Issues in Innovation and Implementation." DHEW Publication #(OHDS) 78-30148. 2(1978). pp. 230-238. ~Pines. A. M. and Aronson. E. op cir. pp. 67-72. 3t12 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1982 son's "generosity and sense of mission" and propel him or her into a position for which he or she is unprepared and in which he or she expends tremendous energy simply to "stay afloat." 2: I~ek of Autonomy In any area of life, lack of control over one's environment is a highly stressful experience and frequently enough leads to the learned helplessness phenomenon observed by Seligman.9 In this depressed state the person tends !o attribute success to "luck" or "chance" or other forces outside his or her control while accepting full responsibility for failures. A perceived lack of autonomy and the frustration resulting from such a lack is a common cause of tedium in organizations of all types, .for job satisfaction declines as the individual is more burdened by unnecessary rules and red tape and lacks voice in decisions that affect the job and his or her life. Lack of autonomy can also be aggravated by a communication gap between superiors and those further down the organizational hierarchy. This gap may be due to the inherent inefficiencies of communication in large organizations or to differing perspectives among superiors and those actively engaged in a given work. It is necessary then to attempt to build organizational structures that will avoid, to some extent, these pitfalls. The problem of autonomy is a thorny one for religious. Balance must be achieved between a legitimate need for autonomy that is part and parcel of healthy adult functioning and the demand of religious obedience that is, perhaps, the very heart of the religious commitment. To some extent community structures have always made some provision for autonomy, for example, those having perpetual vows might vo~e for the superior, serve as councilors, or in other ways voice an ~pinion on community matters. The proverbial "planting cabbages upside down" type of blind obedience is also a.thing of the past. More recent changes in community life have attempted to address this need for autonomy. For example, the matter of annual assignments is now often handled on ~ consultative basis with the individual religiot~s I~a~'ing more input into the decision than was previously the case. Community meetings 6n the local, regional, and national/international levels also serve to keep the lines of communi-cation open and flowing upward, not merely downward. Nevertheless, the fact remains that the religious, by virtue of the vow of obedience, does surrender much personal autonomy. This surrender is often felt most keenly n.ot'in the early years but later as one must deal with one's own growth and developmeht as a ]'esponsi-ble adult. Much of the "mid-life crisis" seen in religious life centers around the issue of autonomy, the need for personal space and the integration of such concepts as 9Seligman. M. E. Helplessness: On De.pression Development and Death, San Francisco: Freeman Press. 1979. Tedium and Burnout in Religious Ltfe / 343 ob¢dience, choice, power, accountability, and responsibility. Perhaps one of the ways to resolve this conflict is to keep some progressive vision of what the com-munity (small group or larger organization) might accomplish and nurture the scope and consciousness of discretionary behavior. In most life situations things usually are more flexible than they might initially appear. Evaluating the possibili-ties for positive change and focusing one's energies in the realm of the possible enhance one's sense of legitimate power and control. The religious who can be attentive to authority, who can blend personal goals with community goals, and who recognizes both the extent and limit of his or her discretionary power is not as likely to suffer the lack of autonomy that leads to tedium. 3. Lack of Rewards It is indeed unfortunate that most organizations are inefficient in the distribution of rewards, appreciation and recognition, as this contributes to dis-couragement and demoralization among the members and can eventually lead to tedium. It is surprising that better use is not made of the power of positive reinforcement, for common sense would suggest, and research has confirmed, that people are far more able to tolerate considerable stress in situations in which they feel appreciated and their efforts recognized than in those in which they feel the rewards are not commensurate with their efforts. Religious are definitely not exempt from the need for rewards and recognition. Indeed, the absence of high levels of financial remuneration make it imperative that social rewards be given. It is all well and good to appeal to altruistic and spiritual motives, but positive feedback has tremendous reinforcement value that is far too often ignored. As a result, the religious who is.often enough already unpaid or underpaid is deprived of the satisfaction derived from well-earned recognition. Another aspect that frequently causes pain is the fact that the religious may be appreciated by those with whom he or she serves yet get little or no recognition from within the community. It remains true today "there is no respect for a ¯ prophet in his own country" Jn 4:44. While it is true that one should not rely solely on one's superiors for praise there is a need for ~ecognition by one's peers that is often lacking. It is frequently the presence or lack of support at the local level that can make the difference between a vital, contributing team member and a "burnt-out case." Stages of Disillusionment Edelwicht0 defines five stages in the process of disillusionment. Stage one, that of initial enthusiasm, is that period of high hopes, high energy and unrealistic expectaiions when one does not know what the job is all about. In religious life this would typically correspond to the novitiate and formation period as well as the early years of active ministry. 1 recall hearing a novice describe with great anima- I°Edelwich. J., op. cit. pp. 28-29. 344 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1982 tion the ceremony of initial profession of another sister. The formula of vows, written by the sister, concluded with the words "Surprise me, Jesus!" An older priest seated next to me turned to me, smiled ruefully, and said sotto voce "He will." The second stage is that of stagnation. It is at this point that one's ministry is no longer so satisfying as to substitute for everything else in life. "Is that all there is?" seems to sum up the feelings of this stage. There is a shift in emphasis at this point from meeting the needs of others to meeting one's own needs. For the religious formed in an other-oriented tradition this shift in emphasis can often be accompanied by feelings of guilt and loss of self-esteem as he or she senses that the fervor which marked the early days of religious life has diminished, Edelwich~ calls his third stage that of frustration. It is at this point that one tends to question not merely one's own effectiveness in the ministry but the value of religious life and ministry itself. Frequently emotional, physical and behavioral problems emerge at this stage. The fourth stage, that of apathy, sets in when a person is chronically frustrated. Apathy as such is a typical defense mechanism that occurs after repeated frustra-tion and is analogous to the learned-helplessness phenomenon mentioned earlier. At this point no new challenges are undertaken and one seems to "go through the motions," doing the minimum required to avoid censure. The stage of intervention is defined as whatever is done in response to or in anticipation of the four preceding stages. Intervention attempts to break the cyc!e. It may involve a restructuring of relationships to clients, family, friends and com-munity. It may mean seeking advanced training and new areas of apostolic work. It may, in some instances, mean leaving the ministry and religious life altogether. The Special Problems of Women Religious The antecedents of burnout and tedium mentioned here apply equally well to both male and female religious. The literature has noted, however, that profes-sional women bear a special burden not shared by men. For example, the conflict between career and home demands is more sharply delineated for a woman who, in the effort to balance both, may seek to become a "Superwoman." This sort of role conflict would also appear to be more keenly felt by women religious than by men. Communities of women seem to place more stress on creating a homelike atmosphere in which there is a fairly high level of mutual interaction and group activity. While such a structure has the potential for providing a great deal of warmth and support, the time needed to foster and maintain these community relationships may cause tension if community activities are seen as competing with the demands of one's ministry. Another major contribution to the burnout of women is sexism. As Edelwich~-' ~qbid. p. 29. Tedium and Burnout in Religious 13fe / ~4~3 notes, in the business and professional world large numbers of women are employed in positions of structured inferiority. Sexual stereotyping influences job assignments, allocation of responsibilities and standards of conduct. Sexual polar-ization commonly reinforces polarization by rank and status. This same pattern of sexual discrimination is found within the Church. The hierarchical structure is male dominated and its influence pervades the entire area of religious life and ministry. There is no need even to enter upon a discussion of ordination of women. Think at a more everyday level of the small put-downs, the questions regarding competence, the paternalism that is found all too frequently. How often does "the pastor" win his point by sheer weight of authority rather than by the merits of the case? How many male religious are comfortable dealing with attractive, educated women as peers? How often has a sister's name been reduced to a diminutive form ¯. in jest, of course? How does the treatment afforded male and female faculty members compare--or differ? Needless to say, the additional burden of dealing with one's femaleness takes its toll, for if a woman is sensitive, the professional struggles can be more frustrating. If she is empathic, the suffering she encounters is felt more sharply. If she knew herself as a caring person and a dedicated religious, recognition that she is no longer moved by the needs of others is more crushing. Coping Strategies Once aware of the potential for the development 6f tedium and burnout, what coping strategies can be introduced? This selection will attempt to present coping mechanisms at three levels:, the organizational, the interpersonal, and the intrapersonal. At the organizational level one can seek to reduce tedium and burnout by reducing the overload, making alternative forms of service available to the reli-gious, and by limiting the hours of stressful work. Community-based pre-retirement programs have already begun to make use of these concepts. By extending them to a broader range of personnel, severe forms of burnout may be prevented or at least reduced. Training, of course, is essential, not merely the initial formal education that would prepare the religious for his or her chosen field but continuing education where the !~eligious is given an opportunity to examine the pressures of the ministry, clarify goals and priorities, consider coping mechanisms and develop new skills. In the initial phases of formation training, the interventions appropriate to the stage of idealistic enthusiasm~3 should be taught. Novices or professed in temporary vows should be made aware of the discrepancy between expectations and reality and learn to moderate their enthusiasms before they become bogged down in the stage of stagnation. During this phase of formation the young religious should be taught to examine their motives for entering on ~21bid. p. 18. ~-~lbid. pp. 212-220. 3116/ Review for Religious, May-June, 1982 certain modes of ministry. The need to be needed is a powerful one as is the need to exert control, a motive that one tends to find if one scratches the surface of altruism. With awareness of their own motives religious can use their emotional investment in the ministry as the basis for insight rather than an acting out of their own needs at the expense of those they set out to serve. In an effort to avoid or at least reduce tedium and burnout, thought should also be given to providing positive work conditions that are suited to the needs of the individual and to assisting the religious to gain a sense of work significance. To achieve this end, as far as possible set clear organizationa| objectives, provide feedback and give the individual appreciation for his or her efforts and accomplishments. On the interpersonal level the development of social support systems is essen-tial. Although the conflicting or ambiguous demands of various systems can lead to burnout, on the whole the efficient and creative use of a social support system is one of ttie most effective ways of coping with the burnout syndrome. Social support systems may be defined as lasting interpersonal ties to groups of people who can be counted on to provide emotional sustenance, assistance, and resources in periods of need and stress, who provide feedback, both positive and negative, and who share standards and values. Ideally, one would belong to several supportive groups: community, family, work, recreational, and avocational. William Glasser~4 in his book, Reality Ther-apy, speaks of the dangers of the "small world." In such a situation, one group, for example, the community or work group, becomes the center of one's entire life and the source of all one's emotional and psychological support. Pines and Aronson~5 list six functions of a social support system, namely: listening, technical support, technical challenge, emotional support, emotional challenge, and the providing of social reality. Rather than expect that'one person or one set of people meet each of these needs, it is helpful to the religious to differentiate the support functions one can get from a given source and seek fulfillment of other needs from other groups. Not to do so places a tremendous burdbn on the sole source of support and leads to disappointment and anger when one's needs are not met. A number of coping strategies that would serve to reduce the likelihood of burnout are open to the individual religious. Among the variables that reduce the severity of burnout are learning, meaning and significance, success and achieve-ment, and variety.~6 Learning and understanding and a healthy curiosity are basic motivators. In the stage of stagnation new learning can open the door to new aspects of one's work and prevent the sort of burnout that accompanies one's perception of being at a dead end. Learning need not involve formal instruction; an attitude of open- V~Glasser, W., Reality Therapy. New York: Harper Colophon Books, 1975, p. 30. ~SPines. A. M., and Aronson, E., op. cir., p. 124." ~Pines, A. M., and Aronson. E., ibid., pp. 143-144. Tedium and Burnout in l~eligious Ltfe/ 347 n~ss to new experience can serve to keep one interested and alert. ~, Finding or creating meaning and significance in one's work and life is essential. Without these ingredients one becomes apathetic, alienated from oneself and others. Viktor Franklt7 recognized this and incorporated the struggle of the mature person to find, meaning in life into his work Man's Search For Meaning. "Nothing succeeds like success" goes the old maxim and nothing can eliminate burnout more effectively than the acknowledgment of one's achievements. Reli-gious, perhaps more than others, need to learn to acknowledge and enjoy their own successes before pushing on to new challenges. Certainly the drive for success can be self-destructive if one becomes obsessed with competing and pushes for "success" in the absence of other rewards. Nevertheless the religious needs to learn to define areas of accomplishment in which he/she can take justifiable pride. Monotonous activities lead to tedium whether they be found in a work or a non-work situation. A sense of variety and interest, on the other hand, originating largely with the person can susiain one in the ministerial field. Variety need not be a matter of outside stimulation, although that is certainly useful, but can be achieved by an openness to the uniqueness of the people with whom one works or whom one serves. Other ways of seeking variety include job changes within one's field or more total changes that involve seeking a new path. The career changes taking place more and more often at mid-life reflect this desire for variety. One coping mechanism mentioned by Pines and Aronson~8 was the develop-ment of an attitude of detached concern, which they defined as a stance in which the empathic professional (or religious) is sufficiently detached or objective in his attitudes toward the client to exercise sound judgment and keep his/her equanim-ity, yet also have enough concern for the client to give sensitive, understanding service. To attempt such a stance requires a delicate sense of balance. It is a process phenomenon, not a static entity that once achieved is dever lost. The religious needs to discern the level of emotional involvement proper for each person/situa-tion he or she encounters, avoiding a draining, ineffectual overinvolvement on the one hand and a clinical coldness that dehumanizes on the other. Compartmentalization~ is another way suggested by Pines and Aronson~9 to keep a balance between energy invested in the work sphere and the energy invested in life outside of work. This is one area that may prove problematic as there are still many community situations in 'which the religious both work and live together. Situations such as these tend to foster the creation of the "small world" mentioned earlier, and negative feelings generated in one sphere tend to carry over into the other. Newer community structures have attempted to alleviate these difficulties by establishing residences that are not identified with one particular ~TFrankl, V. Man's Search.for Meaning. Boston: Beacon Press. 1963. ~Pines. A. M. and Aronson, E., op. cir., pp. 54-55. ¯ ~91bid., p. 164. ~1411 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1982 form of ministry. The residents work at a variety of jobs and in'several differe~at locations and "come home" when their workday is ended. While no single living arrangement is perfect, one such as this does provide the individual religious with an opportunity to separate work demands from other aspects of his/her life. Perhaps the most important of the coping mechanisms open to the individual religious is that of "being good to oneself" or "doing to oneself as you have done to your client." Committed religious tend to burn out because they take on too much for too long and with too much intensity. To reduce the likelihood of burnout one needs an awareness of work stresses and a recognition of the danger signs. One also needs to acknowledge areas of vulnerability and put reasonable limits on one's work for there will always be more that could be done. in addition, one needs to set realistic goals, both long-term and short-term, and be willing to provide for one's own needs, treating oneself as a person with legitimate needs, taking time for prayer and pleasure and nourishing oneself so that there will be strength available to continue the service to which one is called, that with St. Paul one can state: ". my life is already being poured away as a libation . 1 have fought the good fight, 1 have run the race to the finish, I have kept the faith" (2 Tm 4:6-7). Weeping may endure for a night but joy cometh in the morning Ps 30:5. Morning Cometh A Quotella Weeping that weeps me far away May bring the night and end the day. Endure: For the human heart is a finite flask, A bottle whose meager store of tears Night and pain may cause to flow. But even as the last tear falls Joy, as the light, lifts my heart and so, Cometh the dawn. In balance must all things lie. The source of nighttime tears allow Morning to come at last somehow. C. Dell Turney 4108 Little Fairfield Eureka, CA 95501 Prayer As an Act of Justice Mary Lou Theisen, 1. H. M. Since September, Sister Mary Lou has been involved in the Active Spirituality program, located in Seton Hall of Mount St. Joseph College, Mount St. Joseph, OH 45051. This is what Yahweh asks of you: only this, to act justly. to love tenderly. to walk humbly with your God (Mi 6:8). In this simple statement uttered through the mouth of the prophet Micah, God reveals to us for all times the essence of religion. Religion, in the purity of its meaning, is not an ethic nor a multiplication of actions, but a way of life--an integral act lived out in the intggrity of one's being. In this single act there is no dichotomy between acting justly, loving tenderly or walking humbly before God: one element flows from and feeds into the others, finding its true mehning only in conjunction with them. The purpose of this article is to show how true prayer (walking humbly with God), entered into in the integrity of our being, not only leads to actions of justice, but is in itself an act of justice. In his Dictionary of the Bible,~ John McKenzie points out that the Hebrew word sedek, which we translate as justice, is a very complex term embracing the concepts of judgment and righteousness. It is sometimes translated as integrity and implies a right balance born of fidelity to the truth of what something or someone is supposed to be. To be just or to act justly in the biblical sense, therefore, is first of all to be judged righteous or to be justified by God. To seek justice is to seek salvation or justification in truth. To seek justice is to seek God. To act justly is to tMcKenzie, John L., Dictionary of the Btble (Milwaukee: Bruce Publishing CO. 1965). 349 351~ / Review for Religious, May-June, 1982 act out of the truth of who we and others are in the authenticity of our being. This truth is discovered ~nd entered into in times of solitude, in times of walking humbly with God, when we are unable to hide behind our actions, our words, or any of the multiple walls we so often build around our true self. It is in solitude that we are forced to come face to face with our sinfulness and inability to save ourself. In solitude we also experience God's willingness to forgive, his power and desire to save (justify) us and all people. Let us reflect for a while on Jesus, to see this reality present in his prayer/life. In Hebrews 5:7-9 we read: During his life on earth, he offered up prayer and entreaty, aloud and in silent tears to the one who alone had the power to save him from death, and he submitted so humbly that his prayer was heard. Although he ~vas son. he learned obedience through suffering: but having been made perfect, he became for all who obey him the source of eternal salvation and was acclaimed by God with the title of high priest of the order of Melchizedek. St. Paul is here indicating that it was du.ring his time spent in intimate com-munion with his Father, in the solitude of the desert or on the hilltop, that Jesus came to realize and to accept who he was, to realize and to accept his call as the Messiah, the "Beloved Son," with all that this call meant for himself and for others. During these times of reflecting on what was happening in his own life in the light of the words of the prophets and psalms, Jesus came to the truth of his human condition as one destined for misunderstanding, betrayal, suffering, and a death from which he was unable to save himself: This is what I meant when I said, while 1 was still with you, that everything written about me in the law of Moses. in the prophets and in the Psalms has to be fulfilled. He then opened their minds to understand the Scriptures and he said to them: So you see hoffit was written that the Christ would suffer and on the third day rise from the dead (Lk 24:44-47). More importantly, however, through his own reflections on Scripture, Jesus came to know and to trust in the truth of God's faithfulness which alone could and would justify him, and through him, all people: But now. thus says Yahweh: Do not be afraid, for I have redeemed you: 1 have called you by your name. you are mine. Should you pass through the sea. 1 will be with you, or through rivers, they will not swallow you up. Should you walk through fire, you will not be scorched and the flames will not burn you. For 1 am Yahweh. your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior (Is 43: I-3). He said to me, You are my servant in whom I shall be glorified: while I was thinking, I have toiled in vain, I have exhausted myself for nothing: and all the while my cause was with Yahweh. my God was my strength. And now Yahweh has spoken, he who formed me to be his servant, to bring Jacob back to him. to gather Israel to him (Is 49:3-5). This inner realization of who he was in truth and of the power of God's faithfulness working in and through him formed Jesus as an authentic person of justice, both in the biblical sense of one who receives his justification from God, and in practice. Being convinced in the core of his being that it was his Father's love and faithfulness which saved and justified him, Jesus could only act justly Prayer as an Act of Justice / 35"1 toward others for he knew that this gift of God's saving love was not meant for him alone: It is not enough for you to be my servant. 1 will make you the light of nations so my salvation may reach the ends of the earth (Is 50:6). I. Yahweh. have called you to serve the cause of right: I have taken you by the hand and formed you: I have appointed you as covenant of the people and light of the nations, to open the eyes of the blind, to free captives from prison and those who walk in darkness from the dungeon (Is 42:6-7). As Donald Senior states so well in his insightful book Jesus--a Gospel Por-trait2 (p. 138): "From his intimate life of prayer with his Father and from a powerful searching of Scriptures, Jesus had forged the basic convictions that animated his life and ministry. Basic convictions about God as loving Father and about love as fundamental bond of human relationships were joined to an unshakable integrity that translated principle into action.~ The gospels tell us that this action at times took the form of speaking out against the social injustices of his day. He especially denounced the so-called religious leaders, not as much for their smugness and legalistic interpretation of religion as for their inability to recognize God as a God of love and their own lack of love and compassion: "But alas for you pharisees! You who pay your tithe of mint and rue and all sorts of garden herbs and overlook justice and the love of God" (Lk i 1:42). Jesus' conviction, born of his own reflection on Scripture and his own expe-rience, that God was a God of love whose love and salvation was gratuitously given to all--the just and the unjust, the clean and the unclean, the poor and the rich, the sinners and the outcasts as well as the good and self-righteous--led him not only to denounce the systemic injustices of his time, but more especially to live out of his conviction in his own daily encounters with others. He associated with the sinners, the outcasts, the sick, the poor, as well as with the rich and the righteous, showing by his very presence to them his acceptance and respect of them as individuals. By his gentleness, love and compassion for each one he offered them the experience of God's liberating and compassionate love for them, while always respecting their own integrity as persons and never forcing his vision on them (e.g., the rich you'ng man). It was precisely this attitude of Jesus toward others, his acceptance of sinner and righteous alike, which was the greatest affront to the religious leaders of his day for it contradicted their notion of religion: that one was saved by his own actions, by his minute observance of the law. Consequently, opposition toward Jesus and his teachings grew among the leaders. Jesus, well aware of this increas-ing hostility, was compelled to rely more and more on his Father's faithfulness to save him: Now my soul is troubled. What shall I say: Father. save me from this hour? But it was for this :Senior. Donald, C.P. Jesus, a Gospel Portrait (Dayton: Pflaum. 1975). 359 / Review for Religious, May-June 1982 very reason that I have come to this hour. Father, glorify your name (Jn 12:27-28)! Jesus' human struggle to accept his salvation from God and not from his own actions reached its peak in the garden when he pi'ayed in agony, "Father, if it is possible let this chalice pass. Nevertheless, let your will be done, not mine." This total surrender of his person to God's saving plan for him brought Jesus then to his ultimate moment of prayer--his death on the cross. At the moment of death, when, we are told, one's entire life passes before one's eyes and the dying person often speaks a.word which expresses not only what is being experienced at that moment, but which somehow summarizes an entire lifetime, it was not surprising that Jesus spoke from his heart the opening words of Psalm 22. This psalm, which must have been one on which Jesus meditated often during his life and especially at the end when he knew his death was imminent, truly summarizes his life and death experiences. Although spoken in a moment of extreme agony and intense feeling of being abandoned by God, the psalm is not one of despair, but one of ultimate trust in God's power and willingness to save him as his ancestors who had trusted in God had been saved: Yet. Holy One. you who make your home in the praises of Israel. in you our fathers put their trust. they trusted and you rescued them: they called to you for help and they were saved. they never trusted you in vaifi (3-5). It is a psalm of praise to the God who is already saving him in spite of all the evidence to the contrary: Do not stand aside, Yahweh. O my strength, come quickly to my help . Then I will proclaim your name to my brothers, praise you in the full assembly: you who fear Yahweh. praise him! Entire race of Jacob, glorify him! Entire race of Israel, revere him! For he has not despised or disdained the poor man in his poverty, has not hidden his face from him, but has answered him when he called ( 19, 22-24). In this moment of abandonment to the mercy of God who is already saving him in his faithfulness, Jesus is very aware that the meaning of his life and death is not only for his own justification but for that of all peoples: You are the theme of my praise in the Great Assembly. I perform my vows in the presence of those Who ~ar him. The poor will receive as much as they want to eat. Those who seek Yahweh will praise him. Long life to their hearts. The whole earth from end to end. will remember Prayer as an Act of Justice / 353 and come back to Yahweh: All the families of the nations will bow down before him. For Yahweh reigns, the ruler of nations! Before him all the prosperous of the earth will bow down, And my soul will live for him. my children will serve him: Men will proclaim the Lord to generations still to come, His righteousness (justice, salvation) to a people yet unborn. All this he has done (25-31)! Thus Jesus' greatest act of justice in the biblical, as well as the practical, sense occurred at the moment of his death. In that very act of surrender of all that he was to God's saving plan for him, he became justified himself and by that same act won justification for all peoples: Altho.ugh he was son, he learnt to obey through suffering, but having been made perfect, he became for all who obey him the source of eternal salvation (Heb 5:8-9). ¯. in whom, through his blood, we gain our freedom, the forgiveness of our sins (Ep 1:7). What does this reflection on the prayer/life of Jesus have to say to us today as we strive to live an integrated life of prayer and justice? It means, first of all, that like Jesus we must learn to seek our own justification and that of others from God and not from our own actions, and to trust in his faithfulness to save us. Like Jesus, we must take time apart to reflect on our !ife in the light of Scripture and learn who we truly are and to what we have been called. In these times of quiet aloneness with God we will come to know ourselves in all of our weakness, sinfulness, and inability to save ourselves or anyone else. But, more importantly, we will also come to know who God is and in this light to know our true self as one already loved, forgiven, called and empowered by God through the blood of Jesus. As with Jesus, this inner conviction of who we are in truth and of the power of God's faithfulness working in and through us will form us as authentic persons of justici~ in the core of our being. Convinced of God's love and faithfulness which has already justified us by gratuitously forgiving our sinfulness in the blood of Jesus, we will be moved to act justly toward others. As with Jesus, this conviction will at times take the form of speaking out against the injustices of our day, of working to bring about a more just social order, and of supporting others who do this. In our daily life, it will affect ourattitude toward others, moving us to accept and affirm the integrity of each individual we encounter, for each has already been loved, forgiven and called to salvation by God. What greater act. of justice can we extend to another than to allow that person the space to discover and act out of his/her own authenticity as Jesus did with those he encountered', instead of forcing our vision on that person? Animated with the Spirit of Jesus we will, then, become."doers" of justice, of liberation in our world, each according to the call experienced in his/her honest encounter with God in prayer. However, like Jesus, in this very act of prayer itself, we will have .already entered into an act of justice. In coming before God in prayer we are acknowledg-ing our own inability~to save burselves and our need to be justified by God. In the 354 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1982 act of surrendering ourselves in openness to God's power to save us, we enter into the death of Jesus, crying out as he did from our own emptiness for God's saving opresence in our life, while at the same time gratefully accepting the justification we have already received through God's faithftilness to Jesus on the cross. Since through our baptism, as St. Paul tells us, we have been baptized into this death of Jesus, our prayers of surrender, of praise, of trust and gratitude, our prayers for mercy--entered into in the integrity of who we are and of who God is--are an integral part of the prayer of Jesus on the cross. Our prayers are the prayers of the Just One who came to bring justice and truth to all people, and who continues to do so in and through each person who accepts salvation from God. The greatest articulation of this prayer is, of course, the Eucharist. Here we actually participate, with gratitude (Eucharist--thanksgiving), in the eternal act of justification won by Jesus on the cross and reenacted each day "for the glory of God's name, for our own good and for the good of all the world." Moreover, because this death of Jesus into which we have been baptized was for the justification of all people for all time, every prayer of a baptized person affects the whole world for it can never be said in isolation. "A final thing that needs to be said about prayer is that it is always corporate. We often distinguish between private and public prayer, and to an extent this distinction is valid. But whether private or public, Christian prayer is always common, communal, corpo-rate. All Christian prayer is to our Father. in prayer we are united with our brothers and sisters, whether we are alone in our closet or together in our com-munity: we are united to the whole church. The prayer of the community is not a collection of individual prayers: it is common prayer out of our common plight to our common Lord in our common hope. We pray as part of the communion of saints, joining the whole people of God in all history and around the globe."3 Thus, as a person baptized into the death and resurrection of Jesus, and who has experienced in one's own life the love and saving power of God, the Christian is able to come before God in Jesus' name to offer to God in his/her own person all of the love and gratitude, the care, concern and work toward the establishment ¯ of the kingdom which is being experienced and lived out, knowingly or unknow-ingly, by every person in the world. As a person who experiences in one's own being sinfulness, selfishness, anger, frustration, fear and oppression of others, the baptized person can come before God as Jesus did on the cross, in behalf of the sinfulness of the world and cry out for mercy and forgiveness of sin for all people. As a person who experiences, even in times of prayer itself, emptiness, a search for meaning, boredom, ignorance, a feeling of rejection, a lack of faith and trust, the Christian can unite his/her own emptiness and need with the sufferings, the hunger and search for love and meaning, which exist among all people and, with them, accept his/her human condition and beg for salvation from God as Jesus did on 3Jen"nings. Theodore W., Jr., "Prayer, The Call for God." The Christian CentuG'. April 15, 1981, pp. 410-414. Prayer as an Act of Justice / 355 the cross. A baptized person can pray in this way, for in Jesus' Spirit we are all one before God. A call to pray in this posture is a call to be truly present in solidarity with all of humanity and all of creation which "still retains the hope of being freed, like us, from its slavery to decadence, to enjoy the same freedom and glory as the children of God" (Rm 8:21). It is a call to become one with the joys, sorrows, struggles and sufferings of all people and to accept in faith the saving love of God, "our freedom, the forgiveness of our sins" (Ep 1:7), so as to constantly offer to God the thanksgiv-ing and praise due him in justice. A call to stand before God in this manner of prayer in the authenticity of one's being is then, in a very real sense, an act of justice on behalf of the whole world, for it is a sharing in the surrendering love of Jesus. who throughout his life and especially in his death accepted his justification and that of all people from God who alone can save us from death and bring us into the kingdom of truth and justice. An Apostolic Spirituality for the Ministry of Social Justice by Max Oliva, S.J. Price: $.50 per copy, plu~ postage. Address: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 St. Ambrose's Theology of the Consecrated Virgin George E. Saint-Laurent Doctor Saint-Laurent, of the Department ~f Religious Studies at California State University (Fuller-ton). presented the content of this article as a paper to the American Academy of Religion. He may be addressed at the university. Fullerton. CA 92634. Occasionally we may observe that an individual was ahead of his or her time. More often we are scandalized that an earlier generation could have been so deaf to its prophets and so blind to its evils. The history of Christian thought discloses at least two persistent phenomena which have accompanied its dialectical development. First, when we human beings confront a dipolar aspect of the Christian mys-tery, we are almost irresistibly tempted to assume an either/or stance and opt for one extreme to the neglect of the other. We find it difficult to bear a truth which cannot be pressed into our neat categories but finds itself in a creative tension between two poles. And yet it is invariably in that delicate both/and position that Christian "catholicism" or "orthodoxy" has discovered its authentic home: both the divine and the human in both Christ and the Church, with full attention both to grace and to nature, both to faith and to reason, both to spirit and to matter. Second, since our very existence is historical, contextual, and societal, we human beings are predictably limited and conditioned by the foreshortened hori-zons of our own cultural world. As we attempt to interpret our experience in terms of Christ and make it intelligible, we find our perceptions to be prejudicial in their foci and linguistically determined in their expression. And yet the Christian believes that Christ, the subject of his or her faith, is uniquely and eternally one. We who come later can only sympathize with the giants of Christian antiquity, who, being human~ were incapable.of seeing every facet of the total Christian commitment in undistorted vision. Every Cho~stian (hinke,r risks the occupational St. Ambrose's Theology of the Virgin / 357 hazards of his enterprise: the unconscious bias, the unintentional obscurantism, the unnoticed dislocation of values, the quite innocent use of outrageously sexist, racist, or bigoted language, the accidental imbalance which is far more indebted to his or her concrete situation in this place at this time in the face of this crisis than it is to the actual data of Revelation. The purpose of this essay, is to investigate St. Ambrose's~ theglogy of the consecrated virgin, insofar as it emerges from his liturgical hymns and sermons. It is a view remarkably balanced and far less a victim of negative historical condition-ing than the portraits of his contemporaries 'in the Western Church. His was an era when Platonism, with its flight of the soul from the body, and Manichaeism, with its rejection of the human body and its sexuality as evil, were still significant intellectual currents, predisposing Christians to opt for spirit over (rather than with) matter. No less than a Jerome2 could exceed all bounds of good taste and propriety in his zealous promotion of virginity at the expense of female sexuality, marriage, and motherhood: No less than an Augustine3 could be so haunted by his own sexual confusion that he could grudgingly accept sex within marriage only if procreation were both physically possible and explicitly intended. Yet Ambrose, bishop of Mila'n, was able to nurture the highest esteem for consecrated virginity without denigrating the human body, disparaging females, or detracting from the goodness of Christian marriage.4 Unlike the vitriolic Jerome, torn as he was between a melancholic misogynism and an irrepressible delight in feminine companionship, Ambrose was able to insert into the Christian tradition a more humanistic appreciation of woman and her role. Unlike the self-alienated Augustine, torn as he was between an admira-tion for his mother Monica and a theological pessimism compounded by personal tragedy in his own sexual history, Ambrose was able to pass on a more integral and positive perspective. G. Tavard 'writes: "Ambrose was not only an enthusiastic promoter of the virginal life; he had also put forward what may well constitute the only profound theology of womanhood in the Latin world.~ ~For a life of St. Ambrose, see F. H. Dudden, The Ltfe and Times of St. Ambrose. 2 Vols. (Oxford: 1935): and A. Paredi, St. Ambrose: His L~fe and 7~mes. Tr. M. Costelloe (Notre Dame: 1964). 2On St. Jerome, see F: Murphy, Ed., A Monument to Saint Jerome (New York: 1952); and D. Wiesen, St. Jerome as a Satyrist (Ithaca: 1964). 3The literature on St. Augustine is vast. See, for instance, P. Brown, Augustine of Hippo (Berkeley: 1967); and G. Bonner, St. Augustine of Hippo: L~fe and Controversies (New York: 1963). 4This subject has been much studied in recent years. See, for example, R. Ruether, "Mothers of the Church: Ascetic Women in the Late Patristic Age," Women of Spirit: Female Leadership in the Jewish and Christian Traditions. Ed. R. Ruether and E. McLaughlin (New York: 1979) 72-98: and eadem, "Virginal Feminism in the Fathers of the Church." Religion and Sexism, Ed. R. Ruether (New York: 1974) pp. 150-183: M, Maxey, "Beyond Eve and Mary," Religion for a New Generation. 2d Ed., Ed. J. Needleman, et al. (New York: 1977) 264-277: D. Carmody, Women and Worm Religions (Nashville: 1979) 113-123: E. Clark and H. Richardson, Ed., Women and Religion: A Feminist Sourcebook of Christian Thought (New York: 1977), pp. 53-77. 5Tavard, Women in the Christian Tradition (Notre Dame: 1973), p. I00. 358 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1982 It is important to realize just how critical the fourth century was in Church history. It was a period of transition from the. status of a despised and proscribed minority to that of a state religion professed and promoted by the Emperor himself and by most of his s.ubjects. During the era of persecution, only persons of heroic courage, high moral aspirations, and deep faith had been willing to embrace Christianity with its concomitant risk to life and property. Now, however, it had become a distinct advantage socially, economically, and politically to convert, and masses of "average" human beings sought admission. The inevitable consequence was a cooling of fervor, with a compromised commitment to the full implications of the Gospel. ~ in order to forestall unworthy "conversions," the Church instituted a lengthy catechumenate for testing and training candidates before their baptism at the Easter Vigil. In order to preserve her credibility as "The Holy Church," the author-ities created an even more exhaustive and lengthy system of "canonical penance" for the rehabilitation of public sinners who repented. But there was also a more private and individual response in the extraordinary development of asceticism. Previously it had been the martyrs who had constituted the ideal of Christian perfection. Because of their bloody sacrifice, they had been idealized as the perfect disciples who had mystically died in the Lord and could therd'ore anticipate a glorious resurrection in the same Lord. Now it had become the ascetics who achieved a "white" or spiritual martyrdom by their lives of seclusion, self-discipline, and consecrated celibacy. Women as well as men pursued the new ideal. One could retreat into the wilderness (either literally or figu.ratively), and, far from the scandalous vanity and corruption of urban life, die to oneself daily through prayer, fasts, vigils, and the consecration of one's personhood in celibacy. There were the eremitical and semi-eremiticai structures of Anthony as well as the fully cenobitical communities of Pachomius, Eustathios, and Basil the Great.6 There was the growing pressure upon priests to live celibately.7 And there were the convents for women associated with the names of Paula, Eustochium, the Melanias, and Macrina.8 On the other hand, some cohsecrated virgins simply lived privately with their parents or in their own homes or even in the homes of clergymen, although the latter practice was continuously deplored and condemned by ecclesiastical authori-ties. 9 The celebrated sister of Ambrose, Marcellina, for instance, lived with her 6See D. Chitty, The Desert a Ot)' (Oxford: 1960): C. Frazee, "Anatolian Asceticism in the Fourth Century: Eustathios of Sebastea and Basil of Caesarea," The Catholic Historical Review66(1980), pp. 16-33; G. Saint-Laurent, "St. Basil of Caesarea and the Rule of St. Benedict," Diakonia 16 (1981), pp. 71-79. 7See C. Frazee, "The Origins of Clerical Celibacy in the Western Church. Church Histor.v 41 (1972). pp. 149-167. 8See, for example, Gregory of Nyssa, Life of St. Macrina, Ed. V. Callahan. Vol, 8 in W. Jaeger (Ed.), Works (Leiden: 1952). 9See D. Bailey, The Man-Woman Relation in Christian Thought (London: 1959), p. 33. St. Ambrose's Theology of the Virgin / 359 mother and a companion in Rome. Since no convents appear to have been available at Milan, the virgins in Ambrose's care must have resided with their parents. Ambrose himself implies that the native Milanese virgins were relatively few in number, whereas young women came to Milan from Piacenza, Bologna, i~nd Mauritania to celebrate the-rite of consecration. A maiden would solemnly vow her chastity as a bride of Christ in the church before a bishop, with a ritual closely paralleling that of earthly marriage. Accord-ing to Roman custom, a bride was to wear the stola (a long outer garment), receive a fiery-coloredflammeum (her bridal veil) from the priest, and vow her fidelity to h~r bridegroom in the presence of witnesses. A virgin enteri.ng into mystical espousal with Christ also wore a stola and received the flammeum Christi to betoken her new state of life, but both were of somber color. She also pronounced her vow before witnesses, who in her case were the whole community publicly assembled to voice their approving "Amen." We do not know the actual formula of consecration invoked within the Mila-nese liturgy, but we may suppose that it would closely resemble the long preface of consecration to be found in the Gelasian Sacramentary, whose provenance is from Rome about a century later.~° Drawing upon several incidental references in the writings of Ambrose and others, F. H. Dudden reconstructs the general shape of the ceremony thus:' The congregation, at which the bishop himself was the officiating minister, was solemnized with much pomp on one of the great festivals--in the case of Marcellina on the Feast of Epiphany: more usually, however, at Easter, when it was attended by the newly baptized wearing their white robes and carrying lighted tapers. The bishop delivered an address to the' virgin, and offered a solemn prayer. The girl then publicly pledged herself to a life of chastity. Next the bishop took the veil, which had been lying on the altar, and placed it over her head, with the words, q wish to present you as a chastg virgin to Christ.' A benediction was then recited, to which the congregation responded 'Amen." At some point in the service Psalm xlv was chan!ed, and possibly some hymns in praise of virginity were sung." By virtue of her consecration, the "bride of Christ" became a special responsi-bility of her bishop, who was required to visit her regularly, open the Scriptures to her, and impart instructions to her about her duties of state. Although she was separated from the other women in the asseinbly by a screen, she was still believed to,possess a place of honor. Women would sometimes draw near to the enclosure in order to request the kiss of peace from consecrated virgins. As bishop of Milan, Ambrose fulfilled many roles which proved decisive for the later history of the Western Church. Defender of Nicene orthodoxy, champion of the Church's freedom from imperial control, channel of eastern theology to the ~0See I. Mohlberg. Ed. Liber Sacramentorum Romanae Aeclesiae Ordinis Anni Circufi (Sacramenta-rium Gelasianum). Rerum Ecclesiasticarum Documenta Series Major. Fontes IV (Rome: 1960). pp. 124-128. On the consecration of virgins, see P. Camelot. "Virginity." New Catholic Encyclopedia 14 (1967). pp. 702-703. ~tDudden. op. cir. p. 151. ~0 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1982 Latin world,!2 creator and reformer of public worship,Is spiritual father of the great Augustine: Ambrose was all of these and much more as one of the Four Great Latin Fathers.14 But the special object of Ambrose's pastoral concern throughout his years of episcopal service was the consecrated life. Ambrose has been called "The Father of Latin Hymnody.''1S Of the nineteen liturgical hymns which may be ascribed to him with greater or less certitude, five are directly pertinent to our subject, while a sixth holds.indirect interest. Since it is primarily through the sacred liturgy that Catholic and Orthodox Christians have always appropriated their beliefs and values, we may very well be confronting here effectual channels of Ambrosian thought far more significant on the popular level than any discourse could ever have been. Our first three hymns extol Mary, the Mother of Jesus, as the perpetually virginal woman who was nonetheless made marvelously fruitful by the interven-tion of God. A fourth hymn glorifies a popular virgin martyr. A fifth hymn praises Christ, the Spouse of virgins. Finally, our sixth hymn expresses the fundamental spirituality of the consecrated women. Ambrose is remembered as an enthusiastic admirer of the Blessed' Virgin, and he holds a preeminent place in the development of Mariolggy. In lain surgit hora tertia,16 a hymn composed for the liturgical hour of Terce, our poet recalls how Christ entrusted his mother to the Apostle John. The strophes pertinent to our investigation, together with this writer's English translation, are as follows: celso triumphi uertice matri Ioquebatur suae: en f!lius, mater, tuus, apostole, en mater tua. praetenta nuptae foedera alto docens mysterio, ne uirginis partus sacer matris pudorem laederet. From lofty pillar of triumph ¯ He was speaking to his mother: Mother, behold thy son, Apostle. behold thy. mother. Covenants of marriage pretended Taught he with deep mystery, Lest the sacred bearing of a virgin Cast hurt upon a mother's honor. The hymn Intende, qui regis Israel17 was intended "for the Christmas liturgy, and it was an ideal opportunity for Ambrose to blend two of his favorite themes: the glories of the Word Incarnate and the wonders of Christ's virginal conception and birth through Mary. Jesus and Mary are praised together from the second stanza through the fifth. The text, together with this writer's translation, follows: ~2See Saint-Laurent, "St. Ambrose and the Eastern Fathers," Diakonia 15 (1980), pp. 23-31. t3See idem. "St. Ambrose as Channel of Eastern Liturgical Customs to the West," Diakonia 13 (1978), pp. 101-110. t4Together with Jerome, Augustine, and Gregory the Great. tSFor example, see M. McGuire, "Ambrose. St.," New Catholic Encyclopedia I (1967). p. 375; R. Trench, Sacred Latin Poetry (London: 1874), pp. 87-88: F. Raby, A Histoo, of Christian Latin Poetry 2d. Ed. (Oxford: 1953). pp. 32-36. ~rFor a critical text, see W. Bulst, Ed., Hymni latiniantiquissimi." LXXV Psalmi II (Heidelberg: 1956), p. 41. ~TFor a ~ritical text, see ibid., p. 43. St. Ambrose's Theology of the Virgin / 361 uenL redemptor gentium. ostende partum uirginis, miretur omne saeculum, tails decet partus deo. non ex uirili semine, sed mystico spiramine uerbum dei faetum est earo fructusque uentris floruit. aluus tumescit uirginis, claustrum pudoris permanet, uexilla uirtutum micam, uersatur in templo deus, proeedat e thalamo suoo pudoris aula regia, geminae gigans substantiae, ¯ alacris oecurrat uiam. Come, redeemer of the nations, Demonstrate a virgin's bearing, Let all the world be moved with wonder, So great a bearing befits our God. Not from human instigation, But from mystic inspiration Word of God did flesh become And fruit of womb did flower. Swollen grows a virgin's womb, Door of chastity remains, Virtues' beacons glitter forth, Engaged is God within his temple. ¯ Springs forth he from nuptial chamber, Royal palace of chaste modesty Giant of twofold nature he, Speedily runs he his course. The claustrum pudoris permanet of the fourth strophe is strikingly similar to phrases in Ambrose's De institutione virginis,~8 and expresses a doctrinal concern important to him: the virginity of Mary before, during, and after the birth of Jesus. Ambrose refers to the womb of Mary as aula regali uteri virginalis in that same work,!9 and g~es on to state: "Aula regialis is the virgin, who is subject not to man but to God alone." The hymn Inluminans altissimus2° is a hymn written for the observance of Epiphany, with its threefold orientation towards Jesus' baptism in the Jordan, his manifestation to the Magi, and his first miracle at Cana. Our immediate interest is focused upon the third stanza, the text of which follows, together with the present writer's translation: seu stella partum uirginis caelo micans signauerit et hoc adoratum die praesepe magos duxerit, A star shining from heaven Will have shown a virgin's giving birth And on this day will have led The Magi to adore the crib. Christ, "the most high Enlightener," has beenborn of a virgin, and so a radiant star in turn becomes a sign, bathing the crib in its light for the Magi to see. From the preceding three passages it is evident that Ambrose d~lights in dwelling upon Mary's perpetual, yet fruitful, virginity. Mary is the womanly model of the consecrated virgin par excellence, and her miraculous conception of Jesus by the power of. the Holy Spirit constitutes a quasi-paradigmatic event. The consecrated virgin, may approach the regal dignity of Mary through her own state of life, and so become spiritually in her own body a royal palace for God. The divine maternity is a privilege unique to Mary, of course, yet her self-donation to ~Ambrose. De institutione virginis 8.52 (PL 16.320). ~91bid. 12.79 (PL 16.324). 20For a critical text. see Bulst. op. cit. p. 45. 362 / Review for Religious, May-June 1982 God is imitable. Ambrose suggests that the Word can mystically enter into union with the consecrated Virgin for spiritual fruitfulness in the service of others. Our fourth hymn, Agnes beatae uirginis,2t was composed especially for a litur-gical celebration of the Feast of St. Agnes (January 21). It is effectively a poetic paraphrase of a sermon of Ambrose wherein he recounts the martyrdom, of this famous young maiden, a homily which he actually preached for that feast and which is found in his De virginibus.2~ The bishop's basic theme is praise for the valor of a maiden who willingly died as a witness to her faith in Christ. In the first stanza, Ambrose announces that it is the feastday of Agnes, who consecrated her virginity through martyrdom. In the second stanza, our author marvels'that such a child, too young for marriage, should nonetheless be suffi-ciently mature to give her life in testimony--and that at a time when even adults were wavering in the" face of persecution. In succeeding stanzas, Ambrose narrates the story which his audience knew so well. Agnes deliberately sought out martyr-dom, and presented herself as a bride about to meet her Heavenly Bridegroom, her mystic dowry being her very blood. When commanded to offer idolatrous wor-ship, she condemned the altar-fire and promise, d to exiinguish it with her blood. In concluding stanzas, our poet dwells upon Agnes' dignity upon the deathblow, as she drew her garments about herself in chaste modesty. The entire hymn is significant for our purpose, and so all eight'strophes, together with this writer's translation, are here reproduced: Agnes beatae uirginis natalis est, quo spiritum caelo refudit deb#um pio sacrata sanguine. matura maro,rio fuit matura nondum nuptiis, nutabat in uiris fides, cedebat e.ffessus senes. metu parentes territi claustrum pudoris auxeram soluit fores custodiae .tides teneri nescia. prodire quis nuptum putet, sic laeta uultu ducitur, nouas uiro.ferens opes dotata censu sanguinis. aras ~fandi numinis adolere taedis cogitur, respond#: baud tales faces sumpsere Christi uirgines. hic ignis extinguit fidem, Of the blessed virgin Agnes It is the bi~'thday, on which she Poured back her spirit owed to heaven ' Consecrated b~ her faithful blood. Mature was she for martyrdom ' Though for marriage not yet mature, Faith was faltering among men, Conceding old men to be weak. Terrified by fear her parents Had provided a prison of shame Faith dissolved the gates of custody Not knowing how to be,restrained. One might think her advancing to wed So~,joyful in countenance is she led Bringing new wealth to her bridegroom With dowry of her blood endowed. Altars of a devilish god by Tortures she is pressed to worship, Answers she: Not such fires Have Christ's virgins chosen. This flame blots out the faith, For a critical text, see ibid., p. 46. -'~Ambrose, De virginibus 1.25-29 (PI. 16.-189-190). ~ St. Ambrose's Theology of the Virgin / 363 haec flamma lumen eripit. hic hic ferite, ut profluo eruore restinguam focos. percussa quam pompam tulit ham ueste se Iolam lege?ls curare pudoris praestitit, ne quis retectam cerneret. in morte uiuebat pudor uultumque texerat manu, terram genu flexo petit lapsu uerecundo cadens. This fire extinguishes the light. Here destroy me, here, that with Spilt blood I may quench the flames. Struck down what splendor she showed For covering her total person She displayed her care for modesty Lest anyone should see her unclothed. In her death, chastity was living As with hand she veiled her face, With bent knee she besought the earth Falling forward with modest movement. Ambrose was resolutely incarnational, not only in his doctrinal convictions, but also in his pastoral instincts. For him, the cult of the martyrs--like the cult of the virgin--was but an obvious implicate of any sound and balanced Christology. Grace could transfigure the material, the earthy, and the human into a sacramental epiphany of the spiritual, the. heavenly, and the divine. It was inevitable that Ambrose shot~ld exploit the

Issue 41.4 of the Review for Religious, July/August 1982. ; 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. © 1982 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 subscription orders or change of address, write: REVtEW FOR RELIGtOUS; 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, 1982 Volume 41 Number 4 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REVIF:W FOR RV:HG~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 Avenue at 54th St.; Philadelphia, PA 19131. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from RF:VlF:W F'OR RF:IaG~OUS; 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. Familiaris Consortio: Themes and Theses Robert F. Morneau Bishop Morneau continues his commentaries on papal documents with this present article which, though not directly concerned with religious life, has much to say about being Christian. Bishop Morneau, Auxiliary Bishop of the Green Bay diocese, continues his work with the Ministry to Priests Program, and may be addressed at that office: 1016 N. Broadway; De Pere, WI 54115. On November 22, 1981, Pope John Paul I1 issued an apostolic exhortation Familiaris Consortio.~ This document on the family followed the Synod of Bishops n~eeting that dealt at length with issues of family life. A vast range of topics was discussed: I) the role of the family--its identity and mission. The centraliky of love was stressed with great clarity. 2) The meaning of human sexual-ity, meaning which can be found only when sexuality is perceived in relationship to the whole person and to the plan of God. 3) The call to the family to participate in the development of society. This challenge prevents a narrow parochialism and urges a social consciousness that is inclusive. 4) The character of rights for the family. Without justice there will be no peace in the home or among nations. 5) Concern for the hurting. Compassion demands that we reach out to the families that are broken and experiencing loss of any kind. Documents such as this exhortation serve a most important purpose in life, i.e., the sharing of a vision. Parker J. Palmer writes of the need for vision: Finally, we need to seek and find the grounds of Christian hope in the midst of our public crisis. Those grounds are to be found in God's promise of reconciliation and God's faithful-ness to that promise. We will touch that ground and root ourselves in it through prayer and ~'Apostolic Exhortati~, Familiaris Consortio, of His H~liness Pope John Paul II to the Episcopate, to the Clergy and the Faithful of the whole Catholic Church regarding the Role of the Christian Family in the Modern World (Rome: Vatican Polyglot Press, Nov. 22, 1981, pp. 176). 481 till2 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1982 contemplation--not as an isolated individual act, but as directed and disciplined within the community of faith. Just as private and public life are halves of a larger whole, so private prayer and public worship are meant to be as one. In all these ways the Church can help renew that vision without which the people perish!2 In a society that is pluralistic, in a world ajar with great changes, in a Church undergoing rapid development, the vision of the family is bound to be obscured. Whatever can help clarify the basic elements of family life and its interdependence with the Church and society is invaluable in daily decision making. Familiaris Consortio provides a vision from which to evaluate and plan. Unfortunately, because of its length, this document may well find its way to the shelf unmarked and unread, suffering the same fate as Pacem in Terris, Laborem Exercens, and Redemptor Hominis. If this happens, th~ vision remains at a certain level of leadership but never gets into the minds and the hearts of the people. The problem is one of communication. This article attempts to give a general overview of the central themes of the document; its aim is to attract the reader to the primary source itself. Theme 1: Family T~esis: The Christian Family is a community of persons committed to self-giving and fidelity. The family, which is founded and given life by love, is a community of persons: of husband and wife, of parents and children, of relatives, Its first task is to live with fidelity the reality of communion in a constant effort to develop an authentic community of persons (18). The family is the first and fundamental school of social living: as a community of love, it finds in self-giving the law that guides it and makes it grow. The self-giving that inspires the love of husband and wife for each other is the model and norm for the self-giving that must be practiced in the relationships between brothers and sisters and the different generations living together in the family. And the communion and sharing that are part of everyday life in the home at times of joy and at times of difficulty are the most concrete and effective pedagogy for the active, responsible and fruitful inclusion of the children in the wider horizon of society (37). Loving the family means being able to appreciate its values and capabilities, fostering them always. Loving the family means identifying the dangers and the evils that menace it, in order to overcome them. Loving the family means endeavoring to create for it an environment favorable for its development (86). In his strong and sensitive novel A Death in the Family, James Agee writes of the delicate bonds of family life. Those bonds were ruptured when the father of the family was killed in a car accident. His son Rufus cries out to his mother: "Hide 'n Seek's just a game,just a game. God doesn't fool around playing games, does He, Mama! Does He! Does He!" The story paints the intersecting lines of relatives and friends offering sympathy and advice, raising questions and sharing consolation. A community of persons dealing with life and death, faith and doubt, joy and sorrow. A family at once imbued with love and yet wrenched with selfishness. 2Parker J. Palmer, The Company of Strangers iNew York: Crossroad, 1981), p. 33. Familiaris Consortio 483 Agee masterfully tells of people striving to sustain relationships in adverse orcum-stances, striving to comprehend life in the face of death. This finely tuned story provides an example of family life; the apostolic exhortation addresses itself to such a community and offers a faith perspective for dealing with life's questions. The backbone of family life is community. When a group of people lives out a common value system in which each individual is deeply loved and challenged, a oneness is formed which we call community. It ismore a process than a state of being. Its organic nature means that things never remain the same. This constant flux is not to be understood negatively. Rather, this positive change is called growth, the development which underlies every healthy family. The values are constant, their implementation and application continue to vary. Community happens when people truly care and share. The central act of the family and community is self-giving: the ability to be with and for others in a loving and compassionate way. This act is not without its risks. While it can and often does lead to acceptance, such sharing can also lead to rejection. Relationships demand trust, that invisible elixir, which creates an atmosphere in which dialogue and revelation can happen. Where do we find authentic family life? Where self-giving, trust, sharing and love abide! The prophets of the Hebrew scriptures confronted the people with the sin that destroyed the family of Israel: infidelit!! Hosea would say: "My people are dis-eased through their disloyalty" (Ho 11:7). The haunting motto semperfidelis must not be ignored. Family life and community depend upon depth commitment that is able to withstand the fierce testing of crises and weaknesses. Much grace is needed, especially in a culture that accepts infidelity as being "only human." Humorously, if sadly, we speak about a dog as being man's best friend--yet the fidelity of a dog does at times outrun human commitment. Often the apostolic document draws our attention to the power, necessity and beauty of fidelity. Theme 2: Sacrament of Marriage Thesis: The sacrament of marriage is God's special grace enlightening a couple to see their true vocation and empowering them to five it. The gift of the sacrament is at the same time a vocation and commandment for the Christian spouses, that they may remain faithful to each other forever, beyond every trial and difficulty, in generous obedience to the holy will of the Lord: "What therefore God has joined together. let not man put asunder" (20). A vivid and attentive awareness of the mission that they have received with the sacrament of marriage will help Christian parents to place themselves at the service of their children's education with great serenity and trustfulness, and also with a sense of responsibility before God, who calls them and gives them the mission of building up the Church in their children. Thus in the case of baptized people, the family, called together by word and .sacrament as the Church of the home. is both teacher and mother, the same as the worldwide Church (38). The social role that belongs to every family pertains by a new and original right to the Christian family, which is based on the sacrament of marriage. By taking up the human reality of the love between husband and wife in all its implications, the sacrament gives to Christian couples and parents a power and commitment to live their vocation as lay people and therefore to "seek the kingdom of God by engaging in temporal affairs and by ordering them 4~ltl / Review for Religious, July-August, 1982 according to the plan of God" (47). The sacrament of marriage is the specific source and original means of sanctification for Christian married couples and families. It takes up again and makes specific the sanctifying . grace of baptism (56). God is love! In divine self-giving we receive that love which we call grace. Faith allows us to experience the mystery that God has made his home in our hearts, that we are indeed temples of the Spirit. As blood flows through our systems providing life and energy, so grace flows through life affording participation in the Divine Reality. Freely given, it must be freely accepted and exercised. Such gifted-ness does impose serious demands on the individual and the community. Because of this there is a tendency to resist the reception of God's love and to opt for that "cheap grace" which seemingly makes no demands. Such a choice is fatal because it is a lie. Grace will always remain true to its essence: love calling out to love. Once received it must be shared lest one's very integrity be shattered. Grace comes to married life and love through the sacrament of marriage in a very special way. This visible sign of God's incomprehensible love brings about what it signifies: union and holiness. Such is the vocation for all people. God provides specific help to couples who have special demands in the nurturing and sustaining of unique relationships. The sacrament has two sides: invitation and imperative. By means of the invitation each couple builds up the Church and by fulfilling the imperative they participate in the work of salvation. In order that this be known and deeply sensed, the apostolic exhortation stresses the significance of adequate preparation. An understanding of the meaning of grace, as well as the invitation and imperative that underlie it, is crucial to successful married life. Proper disposition makes possible a full response. Here, as in most situations, ignorance is not bliss. Anwar eI-Sadat, in his autobiography In Search of Identity, reflects on a central question of life, one's vocation: Without a vocation, man's existence would be meaningless. We have been created to bear the responsibility God has entrusted us with. Though different, each man should .fulfill his specific vocation and shoulder his individual responsibility? Marriage is a vocation, one sanctified by a sacrament. God's calling is accompan-ied by the necessary help enabling an adequate response in the light of one's gifts and talents. A sense of identity enriches family life and interpersonal relationships. Without this self-awareness, the inner poverty of relationships results in destructive deprivation. Only a sense of one's vocation allows for the proper ordering of life's many demands. Marriage as a basic vocation claims centrality: work, play and social engagements all take a secondary role. A constant challenge in life is to get in touch with one's vocation and to maintain an abiding awareness of this mystery. Theme 3: Mission/Task of the Family Thesis: Christian families are called to receive and share the divine graces of life and love. Looking at it in such a way as to reach its very roots we must say that the essence and role of Familiaris Consortio / the family are in the final analysis specified by love. Hence the family has the mission to guard, reveal and communicate love, and this is a living reflection of and a real sharing in God's love for humanity and the love of Christ the Lord for the Church his bride (17). Thus. with love as its point of departure and making constant reference to it, the recent Synod emphasized four general tasks for the family: I) forming a community of persons: 2) serving life: 3) participating in the development of society; 4) sharing in the life and mission of the Church (17). Therefore love and life constitute the nucleus of the saving mission of the Christian family in the Church and for the Church (50). A movie, novel, or a walk through Disneyland often offer a moment of escape from the harsher realities of life. In the film Raiders of the Lost Ark impossible missions are pulled off one after another. Sheer enjoyment, totally unreal. After such moments we reenter the real world: the world of work, the world of interna-tional conflict, the world of the family. Missions here seem impossible as well: to bring about justice, to foster peace, to live love. Indeed, without grace and great personal effort, the task is overwhelming, if not impossible: with discipline and divine assistance the ideals of justice, peace and love become historical realities. Authors from various disciplines have constantly commented on the task and mission of the family: love and life. A father did not visit his son, nor the son his father. Charity was dead? I've always been intense about relationships. At times, my love overwhelms people. And it puzzles me. My business is to IoveP ¯. and Alyosha's heart could not endure uncertainty because his love was always of an active character. He was incapable of passive love. If he loved any one. he set to work at once to love him? Thus writes Barbara Tuchman in her excellent study A Distant Mirror; in The Belle of Amherst playwright William Luce puts words into the mouth of Emily Dickinson; Dostoevsky too ponders the movements and the mystery of love in his character Alyosha. There is a certain messiness in the mission. Oftentimes motives are mixed in trying to love. Grace faces blockage and detours at every turn. Infrequent success and daily failures can be discouraging. 'Yet the moments of concern, care, respect and love--the central vocation of the human heart--are breakthroughs of healing redemptive life. The exhortation strikes dead center in urging families to guard love from every danger, to reveal love in trust and openness, to communicate love through honest dialogue. The mission is realized by means of such activity. Four specific tasks are delineated for the family: 1) The mission of forming 3Anwar eI-Sadat, In Search of Identity (New York: Harper Colophon Books, 1977), p. 82. aBarbara Tuchman, A Distant Mirror (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, Inc., 1978), p. 97. 5William l,uce, The Belle of A~nherst (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1976), p. 30. ~'Fyodor Dostoevsky. The Brothers Karamazov (New York: International Collectors Library, 1941), p. 171. 111~6 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1982 interpersonal relationships, of building community. Such formation demands time and self-giving; it is endangered by loss of identity and ambiguity about central values. 2) The mission of serving life by protecting the procreative and unitive functions of married love. Education and ongoing training are also tasks of par-ents. 3) The mission of participating in societal and political changes of society. Reaching out to the larger community prevents a destructive individualism. 4) The mission of becoming church. Through love, Christ is made present in our homes and in our world. Theme 4: Love Thesis: The heartbeat and central principle of family life is love. God is love and in himself he lives a mystery of personal loving communion. Creating the human race in his own image and continually keeping it in being, God inscribed in the humanity of man and woman the vocation, and thus the capacity and responsibility, of love and communion. Love is therefore the fundamental and innate vocation of every human being ( I I ). The inner principle of that task (to develop an authentic community of persons), its perma-nent power and its final goal is love: without love the family is not a community of persons and, in the same way, without love the family cannot live. grow and perfect itself as a community of persons (I 8). It cannot be forgotten that the most basic element, so basic that it qualifies the educational role of parents, is parental love. which finds fulfillment in the task of education as it completes and perfects its service of life: as well as being a source, the parent's love is also the animating principle and therefore the norm inspiring and guiding all concrete educational activity, enriching it with the values of kindness, constancy, goodness, service, disinterestedness, and self-sacrifice that are the most precious fruits of love (36). Vocation is a mystery. Who can explain exactly how a call comes into our lives and what makes it possible to respond? Faith offers some reflections on this matter and the Second Vatican Council clearly states that all people are called to holiness. The present document says the same thing but in a different way: the intrinsic calling of every person is love. How this universal vocation is lived out is deter-mined by the specific path an individual chooses: single life, married life, religious life. In a sense there is both freedom and determination here. We are free to choose our unique path, we are not free not to be loving and still retain our humanity. Romano Guardini understood well the process involved in discerning one's vocation: A vocation is no label marked "chosen" which can be fixed to a hum~in existence once and forever. It is a living intention of God, efficacy of his love in the chosen one. Only through the action taken by that person can it become reality.7 The family is inextricably involved in the vocation question. The pragmatic "how" question arises in the search for love and community within the family circle. Many forces that tend to block love and concern must be dealt with. How 7Roma~ao Guardini, The Lord (Chica~o: Henry Regnery Company, 1954), p. 94. Familiaris Consortio / 4117 can we live simple and fruitful lives in a culture characterized by chaos and violence? The good news of the Gospel draws our attention to the person of Jesus in whom we find love incarnate. The basic command is not merely a verbal communication--it is a lived reality. Before preaching, Jesus so often heals, frees, forgives--only then does he explain in word what has taken place. Such self-giving is the model for the family, the domestic church. Jesus shares with that church his Spirit that enables its members to fulfill the perfect command to be loving, forgiv-ing people. And within all this is a paradox: "Jesus' authentic power is revealed in his frailty and importance.'~ The power of powerlessness lies at the heart of love, at the heart of the family. Roots determine fruits. Where authentic parental love exists as the source of family life, then the possibility of various virtues finding expression in the lives of its members is probable. The apostolic exhortation lists six: I) Kindness: that attitude and action that affirms and strengthens one another: 2) Constancy: that rich fidelity fostering trust; 3) Goodness: love incarnate in a small word, gracious deed; 4) Service: awareness of and response to the needs of others; 5) Disinterested-ness: that unique self-forgetfulness in being for and with others: 6) Self-sacrifice: that realism that all love involves a cross. The vocation to love and to be loved is fulfilled only in grace. Theme 5: Sexuality Thesis: Sexuality finds its full meaning only when seen in the context of the human person, God's plan and love. Consequently, sexuality, by means of which man and woman give themselves to one another through the acts which are proper and exclusive to spouses, is by no means something purely biological, but concerns the innermost being of the human person as such. It is realized in a truly human way only if it is an integral part of the love by which a man and a woman commit themselves totally to one another until death. The total physical self-giving would be a lie if it were not the sign and fruit of a total personal self-giving, in which the whole person, including the temporal dimension, is present: if the person were to withhold something or reserve the possibility of deciding otherwise in the future, by this very fact he or she would not be giving totally (I I). In the context of a culture which seriously distorts or entirely misinterprets the true meaning of human sexuality, because it separates it from its essential reference to the person, the Church more urgently feels how irreplaceable is her mission of presenting sexuality as a value and task of the whole person, created male and female in the image of God (32). Education in love as self-giving is also the indispensable premise for parents called to give their children a clear and delicate sex education. Faced with a culture that largely reduces human sexuality to the level of something commonplace, since it interprets and lives it in a reductive and impoverished way by linking it solely with the body and with selfish pleasure, the educational service of parents must aim firmly at a training in the area of sex that is truly and fully personal: for sexuality is an enrichment of the whole person--body, emotions and soul--and it manifests its inmost meaning in leading the person to the gift of self in love (37). ~Jon Sobrino, S.J. Christology at the Crossroads. trans, by John Drury (New York: Orbis Books. 1978), p. 281. 41111 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1982 When things are disconnected, they become distorted. The absolutizing ten-dency to identify a part for the whole is not uncommon. A recent movie/play, The Elephant Man, demonstrates what happens when a single moment of life excludes other factors. Most people were unable to move beyond the elephant man's deformity and penetrate to the rich, inner beauty of his person. Sexuality has suffered over the years from the absolutizing impulse that has fragmented this great and powerful gift. When sexuality is reduced to physicality, emotionality or pleasure, meaning is lost. Familiaris Consortio presents a different vision. Here sexuality is understood as an integral part of the personality. It has meaning only in reference to the person and authentic love. This integral vision provides mean-ing and allows for prudential decision on how the gift will be used. Vision and virtue help to order this radical power in our lives. Though complex, sexuality is not incomprehensible; though innately powerful, sexuality is not uncontrollable. Certain things in history are a matter of life and death. One of these is human sexuality. Abundant life flows when this gift of sexuality is used with proper regard for the individual and is an expression of authentic love. Physical, emotional and spiritual life are all enriched. However, when sexuality is misused and becomes a form of manipulation or exploitation, few things are as destructive. Death is the consistent effect of unprincipled use of human sexuality. Here truth is abandoned, a lie is lived. The fruits are well-known: deception, secretiveness, joylessness, angst, boredom--exit Mrs. Robinson. Thus the paradox: that which can be most life-giving is capable of causing infinite harm. Sex education is an urgent need today. This obligation is frustrated because of confusion in regard to sexual matters, breakdown in communication, sheer ne-glect. Much information regarding sexual matters is transmitted through the mass media and peer groups, often highly distorted and erroneous. Justice is at stake. The child has the right to know; the duty rests primarily on parents. Assistance is often needed and other bodies (church and schools) get involved. One point must be stressed: ¯. the Church is firmly opposed to an often widespread form of imparting sex information dissociated from moral principle (37). The key issue is clear: human sexuality must always be dealt with in context: the context of love, the human person and God's plan. Theme 6: Education Thesis: Education is a primary duty and right of parents; the full growth and development of children depend upon the exercise of this obligation, The task of giving education is rorted in the primary vocation of married couples to partici-pate in God's creative activity: by begetting in love and for love a new person who has within himself or herself the vocation to growth and development, parents by that very fact take on the task of helping that person effectively to live a fully human life (36). According to the plan of God, marriage is the foundation of the wider community of the family, since the very institution of marriage and conjugal love are ordained to the procreation and education of children, in whom they find their crowning (14). Familiaris Consonio / 489 The mission to educate demands that Christian parents should present to their children all the topics that are necessary for the gradual maturing of their personality from a Christian and ecclesial point of view. They will therefore follow the educational lines mentioned above. taking care to show their children the depths of significance to which the faith and love of Jesus Christ can lead (39). Full growth and development demand education. This process of learning is of special significance in the first decade of a person's life. Here the twig is bent, the fate of the tree deeply influenced. In the confines of the home a type of informal education is always at work. By osmosis children are assimilating the values, thoughts and life-style of their parents. There will be times of more formal educa-tion: planned discussion, structured dialogue, explicit exchange of facts and per-spectives. Whether formal or informal, the learning process nourishes the mind and heart as food does the body. Intellectual needs are as deep as bodily ones. If deprived of proper feeding, strange compensatory behavior sets in, causing serious disorder or relationships. If nourishment is well balanced, the result is a healthy home and society. Given the limitations of time, talent and skills, parents will necessarily reach out to others for help in the fulfillment of this primary obligation to educate their children. This appeal for help should not lead to abdication. Certain things can only be learned in the home: the art of sustaining relationships in close quarters, the ability to deal with moods over long periods of time, the gift of hospitality to strangers. In these and other areas, parents are always teaching, if not in word, certainly by their actions. To succeed in this duty parents must continue their own education. The formation of parents through information and transformation is necessary for the full dex~elopment of the family. In an age of rapid ~:hange and high activism, there is a special lesson that parents can teach their children, the lesson of silence: We have yet to accept and act upon the axiom that the cultivation of a habit of silence is an integral part of all true education; and that children, so far from looking upon a demand for silence as an unnatural and intolerable imposition, have an inborn aptitude for quietness.9 Such silence gives access to the voice of God and the deeper recesses of oneself. Contemplation then becomeg a possibility and this activity is essential to a full, human life. Constant activity and incessant noise destroy the conditions for true humanness: loving attention and presence to others. A quiet period in the day could well be one of the greatest blessings a child might learn from parents and the Theme 7: Society Thesis: The mutual relationship between family and society must be carefully Herman. Creative Prayer (Cincinnati. Ohio: Forward Movement Publications). p. 33. Review for Religious, July-August, 1982 nurtured and lovingly critiqued. The family has vital and organic links with society, since it is its foundation and nourishes it continually through its role of service to life: it is from the family that citizens come to birth and it is within the family that they find the first school of the social virtues that are the animating principle of the existence and development of society itself (42). The social role of families is called upon to find expression also in the form of political intervention: families should be the first to take steps to see that the laws and institutions of the State not only do not offend but support and positively defend the rights and duties of the family. Along these lines, families should grow in awareness of being "protagonists" of what is known as "family politics" and assume responsibility for transforming society: otherwise families will be the first victims of the evils that they have done no more than note with indifference. The Second Vatican Council's appeal to go beyond an individualistic ethic therefore also holds good for the family as such (44), The family and society have complementary functions in defending and fostering the good of each and every human being (45). The privatization of religion is a constant danger. This attitude compartmen-talizes one's relationship with God, separating it from economic, socio-political, cultural issues. Christians must be constantly challenged to assume their proper role in society by fostering a public outlook: A public outlook among Christians asks them to care for the good ordering of people who are not saved and may never be. It means having concern for arts and letters, the quality of life and its cultural dimensions, the institutions of education and the forms of politics--even if there is no direct payoff for the churches.~° This linkage to the larger social whole was a major concern at the Second Vatican Council: the Church is to participate in the amelioration of the world by being socially conscious and politically concerned. Again this vision is shared in Famil-iaris Consortio. Families are to participate in social happenings in dynamic and varied ways. Non-involvement will often threaten human dignity and justice since a vacuum will be created if people abdicate their duty of articulating and living Christian values. The notion of responsibility underlies the mutual relationships between family and society. This responsibility is grounded in power. The individual, the family, the society, the church and the state, all possess this ability to bring about or prevent change. When all these parties exercise responsible power in fostering the common good, then justice and peace result. The common good is served. Yet vested interest tends to direct energies and gifts meant for the growth of the community toward self-serving and self-preserving needs and wants. Injustice is effected and society and the family are greatly harmed. The exercise of power for the common good and the proper assumption of responsibility by each grouping are of vital importance to the Church and the modern world. Rugged individualism will continue to thwart the creation of a healthy society. Narrow parochialism, social myopia, crass apathy, indulgent consumerism, afro- *°Reflection of Martin E. Marty in Parker J. Palmer's The Company of Strangers, p. 13. Familiaris Consortio / 49"1 gant nationalism are cancer sores that mar and rend the human heart and human family. Society will never be rid of these illnesses but they can be minimized by fostering a social consciousness that truly sees others as one's brothers and sisters. This consciousness begins at home or it never begins at all. Parents enrich society by their involvement in societal and political issues and by encouraging their children to participate as fully as they can. Theme 8: Church Thesis: The family as the domestic church gets its true identity and sense of purpose from its ecclesial nature. Christian marriage and the Christian family build up the Church: for in the family the human person is not only brought into being and progressively introduced by means of education into the human community, but by means of the rebirth of baptism and education in the faith, the child is also introduced into God's family, which is the Church (15). Among the fundamental tasks of the Christian family is its ecclesial task: the family is placed at the service of the building up of the kingdom of God in history by participating in the life and mission of the Church (49). The Church, a prophetic, priestly and kingly people, is endowed with the mission of bringing all human beings to accept the word of God in faith, to celebrate and profess it in the sacraments and in prayer, and to give expression to it in the concrete realities of life in accordance with the girl and new commandment of love (63). There is a rich symbiotic relationship between the family and the Church. They need each other; they enrich each other. Through the family new life is raised up, potential members of God's family; through the Church, the grace of baptism gives entrance into the community of disciples. The family is as integral to the Church as cells are to the body. Both the community of the family and the Church are about the same task: acceptance and proclamation .of the Good News, worship in spirit and in truth, service to those in need out of love, the building up of the kingdom. In a special way the Church does this through sacramental, apostolic and educa-tional avenues; the family does it by living faith, hope and love in ordinary and concrete situations. Several times in this apostolic exhortation Pope John Paul 1! stresses the building of the kingdom of God in history. Our liturgy describes some aspects of that kingdom: a kingdom of truth and life, a kingdom of holiness and grace, a kingdom of justice, love and peace.~ The Church and family intersect at this junction. Both strive to promote the realities of God's saving mysteries. Both are at the service of Jesus, the Lord of heaven and earth. Both find in him truth and life; in him the oneness with the Father; in him the love that makes justice and peace reality. Christ Jesus is the "Preface for the Feast of Christ the King. 4~)2 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1982 center of the Christian home and the Church. Romano Guardini refreshes our faltering memories: "Faith" in the sense of the New Testament means not only religious trust, reverence, self-surrender, but something specific: man's relationship to Christ and to the God who speaks through him which Christ demanded.~2 Two phenomena characterize the twentieth century: confusion about identity and the subsequent loss of meaning. Who are we? What are we to do? What is our destiny? The Church has a self-understanding that embraces mystery. Yet the task is clear: be a prophetic, kingly and priestly people! With such a vision the Christian family comes to its own self-understanding: the family also is to be a community of persons and the task and mission is the same as the Church's. No small grace here. Amid all the confusion and ambig6ity a sense of direction and purpose emerges. Energies can now be directed in meaningful ways. The Christian family is deeply enriched by seeing and living this relationship with the Church. Theme 9: Values Thesis: Family life is grounded in the knowledge and expression of basic gospel values. Christian families can do this (bear witness to the kingdom and the peace of Christ) through their educational activity--that is to say by presenting to their children a model of life based on the values of truth, freedom, justice and love--both through active and responsible involvement in the authentically human growth of society and its institutions, and by support-ing in various ways the associations specifically devoted to international issues (48). The Christian family also builds up the kingdom of God in history through the everyday realities that concern and distinguish its state of life. It is thus in the love between husband and wife and between the members of the family--a love lived out in all its extraordinary richness of values and demands: totality, oneness, fidelity and fruitfulness--that the Christian family's participation in the prophetic, priestly and kingly mission of Jesus Christ and of his Church finds expression and reali:,ation (50). Many negative phenomena which are today noted with regret in family life derive from the fact that. in the new situations, young people not only lose sight of the correct hierarchy of values but, since they no longer have certain criteria of behavior, they do not know how to face and deal with the new difficulties (66). Freedom, truth, justice, love, totality, oneness, fidelity, fruitfulness! These are the pillars (values) that support the community of persons we call the family, society and church. The importance of these values can readily be seen in contrast to their opposites: enslavement, falsity, injustice, hatred, non-commitment, divi-sion, infidelity, sterility. None of these categories are ultimately abstract; they. are not esoteric philosophical constructs. Rather, they provide the attitudinal base from which life is lived. Values shape decisions which in turn terminate in concrete action. Our actions have consequences that either humanize or destroy people. In evaluating our lives we move beyond specific, individual acts to the root system-- the values from whence they flow. These values truly characterize the essence of ~2Romano Guardini. p. 436. Familiaris Consortio / 493 our personality. Choices in life! To teach in the catechetical program or spend more time with the children; to build a new room onto the house or give more money to the poor: to take in a refugee child or prod the government to promote international justice. These choices are not necessarily exclusive but a theology of limitation restricts how much we can do. The formation of conscience is based not only on values but also the ordering of these values. What is helpful here is a guiding vision: To be an effective member of the Church. one needs a guiding vision. Such a vision should serve to interpret one's experience of life with fellow-believers, to suggest priorities and values, and to indicate ways in which the Church might make itself more effectively present in today's world.13 Value-free homes and societies are dissipated homes and societies, lacking direc-tion and purpose. Values provide a sense of meaning. The constant process of value clarification is urgently needed. The social scien-ces have methods to discern when values are truly authentic and when they are merely nominal. Internalized values have the markings of free choice, strong affective force and patterned activity. Clarifying our values helps to promote civil discourse, a discourse that is essential to keep our planet partially civilized. When values are confused and misunderstood, debate turns into a diatribe. Political, social and religious issues become muddied and constructive communication ceases. Value clarification is not the solution to world problems, but without some clarity there can be no progress. What is true of larger society is also true of the home. Clear values nourish healthy family life. Theme 10: Dangers and Difficulties Thesis: Inner and outer forces present major challenges to the delicate health of family life. On the other hand, however, signs are not lacking of a disturbing degradation of some fundamental values: a mistaken theoretical and practical crncept of the independence of the spouses in relation to each other: serious misconceptions regarding the relationship of author-ity between parents and children: the concrete difficulties that the family itself experiences in the transmission of values: the growing number of divorces: the scourge of abortion: the ever more frequent recourse to sterilization: the appearance of a truly contraceptive mentality (6). Consequently. faced with a society that is running the risk of becoming more and more depersonalized and standardized and therefore inhuman and dehumanizing, with the negative results of many forms of escapism--such as alcoholism, drugs and even terrorism--the family possesses and continues still to release formidable energies capable of taking man out of his anonymity, keeping him conscious of his personal dignity, enriching him with deep humanity and actively placing him, in his uniqueness and unrepcatability, within the fabric of society (43). Among the more troubling signs of this phenomenon (obscuring of certain fundamental values), the Synod Fathers stressed the following, in particular: the spread of divorce and of recourse to a new union, even on the part of the faithful" the acceptance of purely civil ~-~Avery Dulles, "Imaging the Church for the 1980"s." Thought. vo!. 56. no. 221 (June, 1981), p. 121. 4~4 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1982 marriage in contradiction to the vocation of the baptized to "be married in the Lord": the celebration of the marriage sacrament without living faith, but for other motives; the rejection of the moral norms that guide and promote the human and Christian exercise of sexuality in marriage (7). Teilhard de Chardin's work The Divine Milieu shows the deepest reverence for the environment, human-divine-natural, that surrounds and sustains us. When that environment is affected adversely, there is a breakdown in the rich interde-pendence of all life. Family life is no exception to this universal phenomenon. Certain negative attitudes are in the air and certain ways of relating are becoming accepted that are injurious and destructive of communities of persons: divorce that rends and tears the hearts and minds of parents and children; misunderstanding and subsequent misuse of the gift and beauty of sexuality: erroneous attitudes regarding freedom; a striving for a type of independence that makes relationships impossible. The litany is long and off-key: the pain and the hurt are even more far-reaching and dissonant. Realism demands that we share the full portrait. Healthy family life does survive and is the source of much hope and joy. There are homes where children rejoice in the love and care shown by their parents; there are homes in which youth are given a sense of dignity and respect; there are homes that are sites of caring education and gracious growth. God has promised his presence to the family and with that presence comes the grace to fulfill that unique and noble vocation of every home--the sharing of love. Familiaris Consortio offers a blueprint, charting the waterways of family life. The journey of Lewis and Clark was filled with many unnecessary delays and detours because of the lack of maps. Though they do not remove the struggle of the journey, maps do help in marking the way. The papal exhortation continues the apostolic mission: revealing the mystery of God's love and forgiveness which makes possible community, the building of the kingdom in which we hear and respond with love to the voice of the Lord. From Tablet to Heart: Internalizing New Constitutions--I Patricia Spillane, M.S.C. Sister Patricia, a psychotherapist, lectures on initial and on-going formation. She resides at the convent of the Missionary Sisters of the Sacred Heart; 428 St. James Place: Chicago, IL 60614. The second part of her presentation will appear in the next issue of REWF.W FOR REI.IGIOUS. During the past few years, we religious have witnessed a ferment of activity in our congregations centering on drafting, writing and debating new constitutions. The Lord's charge to Habakkuk: Write down the vision clearly upon the tablet so that we can read it readily (Hab 2:2) is being taken seriously. Constitutional committees, feedback designs, provincial chapters have been devoted to this task. Some of us are already breathing a sigh of relief before a completed task, some of us are still laboring to clarify the vision or inscribe the tablets. But there is a hidden illusion here, that once the tablet is inscribed, the work is over! The Lord who told Habakkuk to write on the tablet also told Jeremiah that he, himself, would plant his law deep within, "writing it on their hearts" (Jr 31:33) instead of on fragments of stone or clay. So it is today. Whoever finishes "tablet-work" is at a crossroads of a more intense and crucial nature. The real task, the "heart work," is just beginning and the challenge which lies before us is far greater than the challenge we may have already surmounted. A beautiful document will remain just that and nothing more, unless it also becomes an opportunity for personal conversion, for personal adherence to its sources of inspiration: the gospel, and the charism of the individual congregation. New constitutions are indeed "a word that goes forth from my mouth" (Is 55:! i) and so may be likened to the seed in the parable of the sower (Mt 13:1-23). There the seed-word was met by a whole spectrum of attitudes that rendered it 495 4~ / Review for Religious, July-August, 1982 more or less efficacious: from the indifference and defensiveness of those of "coarse heart., dull ears., shut eyes., fear [of] being converted," to the limited disponib~lity of those who "have no roots [since] trials., persecutions., worries ¯. riches choke the word," even after an initial joyful reception. The unconditional acceptance of those who are "good soil" is not found as often as we would like to believe. Human nature has not changed since the time those attitudes were described. The "word," whether of the gospel or of a congregation, will be as effective as each of us can allow it to be, personally and corporately. Our new constitutions are indeed a "two-edged sword," but we can block its passage to our "secret emotions and thoughts"(Heb 4:12). It is indeed a seed, bursting with the potentiality of life, but the finest seed in the world needs a welcoming environment. With all of our good will, each of us may be specializing in certain obstacles that may prevent these constitutions from taking root and producing the fruits of inner conversion, may render subjectively ineffective the objective grace of the moment. These obstacles, rather than our good will, may be at the root of our attitudinal decisions before the constitutions. Whether we realize it or not, we are not just passive recipients of these new documents. Each of us makes active decisions concerning them, with or without our awareness, and often the decision may be made before we even see the document. Neither is this "decision" an isolated factor in our life; rather it springs from the same soil which has fostered every other decision we have made. What Attitudinal Decisions Do New Constitutions Evoke in Us? What are some of the myriad possibilities of responses to this word, of attitudi-nal decisions before our constitutions, that could arise? We must recognize that anything which is both new and demanding naturally represents a threat to our established way of looking at things, to our life-style, to our values. It calls for change, for letting go of the comfortable and familiar, for embarking on untried and risky roads--even if only in small and subtle ways. It is good for us to recognize and admit how easily the gospel, our charism, our documents can threaten us. Our challenge lies in how we handle the stress which this threat brings. On the one hand we can resist in an active, rebellious way, challenging the need for norms, for institutional guidelines, for adherence to the magisterium of the Church. Or we can resist in a more subtle, passive way--remaining indifferent, unaffected; quietly ignoring what rubs us the wrong way. We can comply, go along with what is outwardly expected of us, as long as the community is aware of it or because the consequences of not "going along" would be too unpleasant. Or, at another level, we can accept the constitutions because "that's what good religious do," or because the present community to which we belong values them, and so should we. While this identification does not stop when we are no longer actually being observed by members of the community, the satisfaction due to our relation-ship with others is more important to us than the value itself. Thus, this attitudinal choice still leaves something to be desired. Our motivation remains external to us. From Tablet to Heart / 497 Finally, Luke describes the last category of listeners to the word as: people with a noble and generous heart who have heard the word and take it to themselves and yield a harvest through their perseverance (Lk 8:15). This is an excellent biblical description of what is meant by internalization: a true taking-to-heart of the value for its own sake, whether it is popular or unpopu-lar, whether we are being observed by others or not observed, whether it is gratifying or painful. Internalization of his Father's will was the only way that Jesus remained faithful unto death to his redemptive mission: rewards and friends had all disappeared; there remained only faith that this was what the Father called him to do. Vulnerability of Our Attitudes So we see that the great accomplishment of approved constitutions can falter and come to nothing, unless we are disposed to respond by attitudinal decisions that lead to the increase of internalization and the decrease of either resistance or compliance. We see that our attitudinal choices are vulnerable, with the result that, unknowingly, we may be moving towards an ephemeral and passing satisfaction instead of towards the true life that Jesus intends for each of us through these documents (see Jn 10:10). But what makes our attitudinal choices so vulnerable? What can we do about it? Perhaps we can begin by attempting to understand the source of these vulner-abilities. After all, it is a very ancient problem. The Israelites d~]ring the exodus could be seen to manifest the same spectrum of attitudes towards the covenant. Moses, in the words of the writer of Deuteronomy, finally put it to them clearly: I set before you life or death, blessing or curse: choose life then. (Dr 31:19). Let us begin to look more deeply into how, from the time of the Israelites to the present day, our choices can be torn between life and death, can lead us to our highest happiness or our greatest betrayal. To that end, let us look first at the source of these decisions--our very selves--and then at various aspects of these decisions. A. The Person as Locus of Attitudinal Decisions Attitudinal choices of life or death do not spring from a vacuum. They origi-nate in and are consistent with" that complex of motivations, forces and behaviors which we call "the self." Concentrating on the self, however, is not meant to be an exercise in individu-alism. Vitz~ warns us how the exaltation of the self and concentration on self-fulfillment result in a parody of our true selves. Kernberg2 has devoted many years ~Paul C. Vitz, Psychology as Religion: the Cult of Self- Worship (.Grand Rapids, MI: Wm. Eerdmans Publishing Co., 1977). 2Otto Kernberg, Borderline Conditions and Pathological Narcissism (NY: Jason-Aronson, 1975). __, "Why Some People Can't Love," Psychology Today (June, 1978), pp. 55-59. 1191t / Review for Religious, July-August, 1982 to a study of the increasing manifestations of narcissism in American society that result in a pathology of the self. Hendin describes the culture of the Age of Sensation as: marked by a self-interest and ego-centrism that increasingly reduces all relations to the question: What am 1 getting out of it?~ Obviously such caricatures of the self are inimicable to the gospel which says "anyone who wants to save his life will lose it" (Mt 16:25). Nevertheless, it is precisely self-knowledge which can be the greatest aid to making it possible for us to lay down our lives. All the saints testify to this truth, but 1 will restrict myself throughout this article to two great woman saints: Catherine of Siena, the great laywoman and mystic of the fourteenth century, and Frances Xavier Cabrini, the zealous mission-ary of the twentieth century, who founded my own congregation, the Missionary Sisters of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. If you would come to perfect knowledge and enjoyment of me, eternal life, never leave the knowledge of yourself . oh, how delightful to the soul and pleasing to me is holy prayer made in the house of self-knowledge and knowledge of me! (Catherine of Siena, The Dia-logue, no. 4,66). And when we begin to know ourselves, it is a grace so great that we can never thank Jesus enough since it is an illumination from his divine heart. Let us gratefully run along this way. (Frances Cabrini, Letters, no. 96). We have already insisted on the capacity of the self to function as an active sub-ject-- not just to react as the passive object of environmental stimuli. Our behavior may stem in part from external influences, but these influences are internally organized into already existing psychic structures that we normally call motiva-tions. Hence the motivations are as important as the behavior, the inner structures as important as the process of emotionally experiencing the environment. Neither is the self simply an organization of the present moment. We reach back to the past (which we may have forgotten) and forward to goals we have not yet attained. The actual needs of the past and present must be balanced with the ideals of the future, a fact which psychologists are more and more integrating into their self-theory. Wylie4 considers the sub-components of the self as the actual-self and the ideal-self. Kohut, who has devoted himself to the analysis of the self,~ speaks of its developing optimally from the interaction of ambition (needs) and ideals. Rulla6 further subdivides our actual-self with its needs and ambitions into a social, behavioral and latent self, and our ideal-self into a personal self-ideal as well SHerbert Hendin, The Age of Sensation (NY: McGraw-Hill & Co. 1977), p. 13. *R. C. Wylie, "The Present Status of Self Theory" in Handbook of Personality Theory and Research, Borgatta & Lambert, ed. (Chicago: Rand McNally, 1968), pp. 734-752. ~Heinz Kohut, The Analysis of the Se/f(NY: International Universities Press, 1977). 6Luigi M. Rulla, S.J., Depth Psychology and I/ocation (Chicago: Loyola University Press, 1971), pp. 35-37. The theoretical framework of this article is derived from the writings and teachings of Rulla. From Tablet to Heart / 499 as the ideals we believe others expect of us (institutional-ideal). Rulla further distinguishes between the subjective ideals we personally hold as important to us and the extent to which these are consonant with objective ideals---especially the revealed values of the gospei and the following of Christ. Needs and Values Within Our Conscious and Unconscious Selves However, we must admit that the self often remains a mystery to us. Paul laments "I do not understand my own behavior" (Rm 7:!5). Conscious factors interact with unconscious forces within us, unknowingly influencing our decisions and our attitudes despite our good will. Because they are unknown to us (and our defenses may be strong enough to resist coming to know them), this unconscious part of the self can greatly contribute to the vulnerability of our attitudinal deci-sions. Whether we are talking about the "Known/Unknown-to-self" of the Johari Window,7 Freud's unconscious, or Rulla's latent self, we cannot ignore the fact that we unconsciously put obstacles in the way of taking the word to heart. Grace builds on nature--but we may abuse our God-given freedom by hiding from unpleasant truths which may be interfering with the action of grace. It is this unconscious aspect of the self that touches so deeply two primary attributes of the self: our human needs which are innate, universal and strive naturally for psycho-biological or psycho-social satisfaction; and our values and ideals which are developed in the course of a lifetime. We all have needs, e.g., aggressive, dependent, sexual, and so forth, but backgrounds and previous situa-tions may have made these needs so unacceptable to us that we divorce them from ourselves by a defensive barrier that relegates them to our unconscious self. Because they are buried, however, does not mean they are inactive; in fact they may be all the more influential because of our lack of awareness. At the other end of the spectrum of self-attributes are our values which natu-rally begin by being subjective and personal, but which should mature so that the objectivb values of Christ come to coincide with our personal ideals and choices (which is what internalization is all about). However there is a "tension arc" stretched between these two poles which can often result in the weaker values succumbing to stronger unconscious needs. In this case, the values never are internalized because of contradictions in the self between the actual and the ideal. Rulla has introduced the term "inconsistencies" to describe these poorly-integrated tensions between needs and values. While certain human needs may be consistent with the following of Christ, e.g., the need to achieve, to care for others (nurtur-ance), to overcome difficulties (counteraction), certain others such as inferiority (abasement), avoidance of pain (harm-avoidance), or defensiveness interfere with the following of Christ and hence may represent significant inconsistencies in individuals where they predominate. Ideally, we should be able to acknowledge and accept the presence of these inconsistencies which we all have, integrate them 7joseph Lufl. Group Processed (Palo Alto: National Press, 1961). 500 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1982 in a manner appropriate to a vowed life, and thus be freer to be attracted by and assimilate the values of Christ. However, when the block of unconscious needs cannot be acknowledged, a vicious circle begins of denying what we most need to deal with, of distorting our image of ourselves to match our ideal-self instead of dealing with what is actually present. Self As Holistic, Structural, Purposive Thus far we have seen that our attitudinal choices originate in a self that is both reactive and becoming, both conscious and unconscious, both real and ideal in our efforts to integrate values and needs in a consistent way. Another theorist, Jane Loevinger,8 describes the necessary characteristics that must be incorporated into a healthy self, or into any adequate self-theory. Thus, among other elements, she maintains that the self must be understood as holistic, structural and purposive. When we interpret this in the light of religious life, several implications concerning the self emerge: The holistic self." Self as the locus of growth in Christ and for purposes of internali-zation must be seen as the integration of all its aspects: conscious and unconscious; active and passive; the psycho-biological, psycho-social, and psycho-spiritual: the cognitive, affective and volitional; the real and the ideal. The part that each element has to play in the final ordering of a mature consistent self is not just a result of haphazard whim or fancy. Rather, true integration moves from more primitive, ego-centered positions to more advanced levels that do not exclude the earlier but incorporate them into newer, more mature patterns. The structural self." A great many theorists today stress the self as being in process; problems are envisioned in terms of blocked emotional and experiential pro-cesses. 9 They emphasize those components of ourselves that are or should be in movement, in flux, in change. While this approach contains an undeniable truth, a holistic approach includes other aspects as well. We are not only emotion, flux, becoming. Our inner selves are also organized into stable structured patterns of needs, motivations and ideals; of behavioral tendencies and patterns of relation-ships that are remarkably stable, resistant to change and indeed form the source of our emotional reactions, our manner of experiencing the world and our behavioral tendencies. Thus while our structures or psychic patterns seem to epitomize Our stable and non-changing elements, in reality we can experience no real change unless these very structures are touched and altered. A structural view of the self is sound not only from a psychological point of view but also from a theological. The late Gustave Weigel in his considerations on Theology and Freedom looks first at the self which is capable of reaching freedom. He contrasts an experiencing self in flux as: 8Jane Loevinger, ~Theories of Ego Development" in ClinieabCognitive Psychology: Models and Inte-gration, L. Breger, ed. (Englewood Cliffs, N J: Prentice-Hall, 1969), pp. 87-99. 9E.g., most of the humanistic schools--Rogers, Maslow, et al. From Tablet to Heart / 51~1 isolated, unrelated consciousness, floating without orientation or direction on the mysterious sea of existence, itself selfless with the self as presumed by Catholic theology which begins with the supposition that the self is structured and its affirmations must be related to that structure.~0 ¯ Thus a view of the self without structure and only in process cannot help us either spiritually or humanly. If a religious has unknowingly reacted all his or her life so as to comply with the sacrifices invited, by chastity, poverty and obedience and has never really internalized them, he or she has unwittingly formed a pattern and a structure of compliance that will not change only by focusing on his or her emotions and experiences. The roots of our patterns must be dealt with before lasting, significant change can occur. The purposive self." Loevinger sees the self as inherently striving for meaning, purpose, goals--echoing the ideal-self of Wylie, Rulla, Kohut, et al. Frankl speaks of the "will to meaning" as opposed to "the will to pleasure." Indeed happiness, fulfillment, identity are all side effects of the successful search for meaning: It may now have become clear that a concept such as self-actualiTation, or self-realization, is not a sufficient ground for a motivational theory. This is mainly due to the fact that self-actualization, like power and pleasure, also belongs to the class of phenomena which can only be obtained as a side effect and are thwarted precisely to the degree to which they are made a matter of direct intention. Self-actualization is a good thing: however. I maintain that man can only actualize himself to the extent to which he fulfills meaning. Then self-actualization occurs spontaneously: it is contravened when it is made an end in itself.~ Indeed the capacity to commit ourselves marks our highest capacity, our ability to transcend ourselves, to go beyond gratification and pleasure to value and meaning. To the extent that the values and meanings for which we transcend ourselves are objective and true (consistent with our self-as-it-ought-to-be), happi-ness and self-fulfillment will gradually emerge as side effects. Thus, new constitutions ought to prick and challenge us--make us uncom-fortable- not be already within our grasp. Our tendency can be, however, to "cut down to size," reduce the demand quality of something which may annoy and anger us because it disturbs our comfort. We have to be willing to forego, unlike the rich young man (Mk 10:17-22), the gratification of"but I've already been doing all that," to push forward, stretch, go beyond where we are, to transcend our own comfort in the service of values which have originated beyond us. The Subjectivization of Values Both Frankl and Rulla have been very concerned with the relativization and individualization of values which we see so often in modern society. Values which ~0Gustave Weigel, S.J., "Theology and Freedom" in Foundations./'or "a Psychology of Grace (Glen Rock. N J: Paulist Press, 1966), p. 188. ~Victor Frankl, Psychotherapy and Existentialism (NY: Clarion Bks, 1967), p. 8. 502 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1982 should be objective and clear become subjectively evaluated (for discarding or adaptation); we tend to elevate ourselves and our needs as ends in themselves, thereby actually making ourselves into an object. We become the measure of the value instead of the value calling us forth. Here our ideal-self has become absorbed into our actual-self and has become its puppet, instead of being a liberating, independent force which urges our actual-self further along the road to maturity and freedom. An adaptation of one of Frankl's diagrams can help us envision this tendency more clearly:12 Strong human needs (1) especially unconscious ones that are dissonant with the following of Christ can cause the values (2) to be unconsciously "adjusted" (subjectified) so that the person (3) becomes the norm (objectified). This may lead to temporary self-fulfillment and gratification, but not to lasting happiness because it has diluted the values that encouraged us towards self-transcendence. Frankl calls for changing this situation through re-objectifying the values and re-subjectifying the person by means of a value-oriented theory and practice (4). To the extent that we can realize this, to that same extent can we find a true self-fulfillment in Christ that comes as a result of having transcended ourselves. Unless a grain of wheat fails on the ground and dies, it remains a single grain: but if it dies. it yields a rich harvest (Jri 12:24). Thus far we have considered the self with its intricate weaving of values and needs, structure and function, elements known-to-self and unknown-to-self as the source of our attitudes ranging from acceptance to refusal of God's design. Now let us turn to examine more closely the process and result of our decision-making, so '~Ibid., p. 66. From Tablet to Heart / 503 as to better understand the interactions of nature and grace within us. To do this, we shall look at attitudinal decisions from three aspects: spiritual philosophical and psychological. B. The Spiritual Dimension of Our Attitudinal Decision We can consider the spiritual dimension of decisions and attitudes since, in a holistic and purposive view of the self, over and above the fact that our capacities are God-given in themselves, we can and ought to reach out for transcendent goods. Thus our decisions may be considered spiritual on the basis of their object, i.e., what is being chosen, and on their mode, i.e., how the "what" is being chosen, under the influence of what--grace or inconsistent human needs. God calls, and awaits our human decision. He offers us his grace that makes possible but not obligatory our decision to respond to a transcendent good. Thus our decision may be the meeting ground between nature and grace--an encounter between two liberties. But, as we have already seen, this liberty to ,respond may be conditioned by various factors, notwithstanding our good will and sincere desire to serve God. This is our subjective holiness, the extent to which we actually do respond to grace in spite of our human limits and weaknesses. However, we also have to consider objective holiness--the extent to which we could respond to God if our liberty was less impaired, i.e., if there were less unknown inconsistencies with which we had to struggle.~3 We are responsible within the bounds of subjective holiness because there we know the weaknesses against wfiich we must consciously struggle. Obviously, we are not responsible for what we do not know--our hidden faults and failings--but we are responsible to do what is in our power to become aware of them. This is what the saints tried to do constantly--to become aware of what was formerly hidden from them through reflection, prayer, examen, and so forth. And because they were not defensive, they usually succeeded. Cabrini writes: We shouldn't be surprised at our defects, for such marveling comes from pride, but let us humble ourselves and reflect that they are like windows where the light enters so we can know ourselves better. Only humility is called the beginning of all perfection; why shouldn't our defects help to know ourselves better and become more humble? (Pensieri e PropositL p. 166-167.) Discernment When we consider the object and mode of our choices, we are reminded of St. Ignatius' rules for the discernment of spirits: whether the soul is choosing a real or an apparent good; whether this soul is being drawn by grace or by "evil spirits." How can we discern between these two goods, since nothing is chosen except under the aspect of good? Or, as Lonergan would have it, how can we discern whether we are being drawn by the goods of the "ego-centered self" or the "ego-transcending self"?. It is beyond the scope of this work to comment in detail on the ~-~Luigi M. Rulla, S.J., Joyce Ridick, S.S.C., Franco Imoda, S.J., Entering and Leaving Vocation (Chicago: Loyola University Press, 1976), pp. 212-214. 504 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1982 parallels between Ignatian discernment and modern vocational depth-psychology: the reader is referred to the numerous articles that have appeared recently in this vein)4 Suffice it to say that the real goods of the kingdom are consistent with the revealed objective truths of the gospel and of Church teaching: that they are concerned with discovering and living God's will regardless of the cost, and not our plan for ourselves; and that such goods leave intact or intensify our intimacy with Christ, our acceptance of and living out of his word, even when that entails great sacrifice and hardship. In some cases it is fairly easy to discern the real from the apparent good: at other times we know what God wants even though we feel humanly repulsed by it. Many times, however, the case is not so clear; we can be convinced that God wants something when in reality it is our own inconsistent tendencies that want it. Sometimes we later see and understand our error: sometimes we never discover that truth. St. Ignatius tells us to look for "consolation without cause" following the choice of the real good--and desolation when this is not so. Unfortunately, our emotional weighing of a good to be chosen can be confused by unconscious inconsistencies rendering our emotions unreliable guides. Consolation and desolation do not necessarily identify with pleasure and pain., only when affeetivity is ordered can it in turn become the clue to the direction in which one should go within the myriad good options that surround one's life (Italics mine).~5 Grace or Gratification? We have considered "decision for what?" The issue of "how, under what influence?" is equally important. How do we discern if grace or gratification is what moves us? Certainly, grace moves us in the direction of the real good: our conversion to the will of God and the imitation of Christ. Grace enables us to go beyond our natural desires for natural goods and to take root in a transcendent love of Jesus Christ. Not only does grace make conversion possible (Lonergan's operative grace) but enables us to cooperate with it so as to effect the gradual movement towards a full and complete transformation of the whole of one's living and feeling¯ one's thoughts, words, deeds and omissions.~ But how can we tell if it is really grace at work, or our own needs? There are no litmus tests for the Spirit, no computer analysis which can pin him down. But holy men and women from the dawn of the Christian era have used their spiritual ~'~Luigi M. Rulla, S.J., "The Discernment of Spirits and Christian Anthropology," Gregorianum (Vol. 59, 3: 78), pp. 537-569. Laurence Murphy¯ S.J., "Psychological Problems ~f Christian Choice." The Way, 1~75, pp. 25-28. ¯'Psychological Development," Supplement to 7he Way, n.38 (Summer. 1980), pp. 30-40. Louis Gendron¯ S.J., "The Exercises and Vocational Therapy," Supplement to The Way, n.38 (Summer, 1980), pp. 53-67. ~Michael Buckley¯ S.J., "Rules for the Discernment of Spirits," Supplement to The Way, no.20 (1973), pp. 29-35. ~rBernard J. Lonergan¯ S.J.¯ Method in Theology. 2nd ed. (NY: Herder and Herder. 1973), p. 241. From Tablet to Heart / 505 intuition, the fruits of disponibility to grace, to discern. Rahner, using the most simple and commonplace of means, discerns that only grace can be at work in the following instances: Have we ever kept quiet, even though we wanted to defend ourselves when we had been unfairly treated? Have we ever forgiven someone even though we got no thanks for it and our silent forgiveness was taken for granted? Have we ever obeyed, not because we had to and because otherwise things would have become unpleasant for us, but simply on account of that mysterious, silent incomprehensible being we call God and will?. Have we ever tried to love God when we are no longer being borne on the crest of the wave of enthusiastic feeling, when it is no longer possible to mistake our self. and its vital urges, for God?. Have we ever been good to someone who did not show the slightest sign of gratitude or comprehension and when we also were not rewarded by the feeling of having been "selfless," decent, etc.?~7 It is interesting from a psychological point of view how clearly Rahner sees that an inordinate need for self-esteem can be an obstacle to our growth in grace and holiness: when it is more important for our self-esteem to be boosted up by others' good opinion of us, our own positive evaluation of ourselves, uplifting emotional experiences, and so forth; when it is more important for us to feel good about serving God than simply to serve God for his own sake. Self-esteem is essential; abasement (a helpless sense of inferiority) is a deterrent to growth in holiness. But our self-esteem should be secure enough to withstand at times the lack of external supports and proofs of how good we are. Rahner, in commenting on the latter occasions, goes on to say: If we find such experiences, then we have experienced the spirit., when we let ourselves go in this experience of the spirit, when the tangible and assignable, the relishable element disap-pears, when everything takes on the taste of death and destruction, or when everything disappears as if in an inexpressible white, colorless and intangible beatitude--then in actual fact it is not merely the spirit but the Holy Spirit who is at work in us. Then is the hour of grace . The chalice of the Holy Spirit is identical in this life with the chalice of Christ. This chalice is drunk only by tho~ who have slowly learned in little ways to taste the fullness in emptiness, the ascent in the fall, life in death, the finding in renunciation. Anyone who learns this, experiences the spirit--the pure spirit--and in this experience he is also given the experience of the Holy Spirit of grace.~ Thus we see that evaluating our attitudinal decisions in the light of the spirit has to focus on the object of our choice (real, ego-transcending goods; apparent, ego-centered goods or the whole spectrum inbetween) and on the mode of our choosing (under the influence of grace or of gratification). Our constitutions are a real good, calling for that transcendence which leads to greater assimilation of Christ and consistent living of the gospel. "It is now no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me" (Ga 2:20). Such a transformation can only be possible with the aid of grace, but grace is "God;s action on the psychic structure of man,''~9 and those same psychic structures can also render grace ineffective. ~TKarl Rahner. S.J., "Reflections on the Experience of Grace" in Theological Investigations. Vol. Ill (NY: Seabury Press, 1974), p. 87. ~Slbid. p. 88. ~gRulla, 1971, pp. 167-8. 501~ / Review for Religious, July-August, 1982 C. The Philosophical Dimension of Our Attitudinal Decisions The intellect, memory and will have traditionally been the principal faculties of man which have concerned the great philosophical theorists of the past. Modern thinkers have elaborated on the traditional criteria and begun to determine other intervening variables which must also be considered. Their contributions can be enlightening in our search for greater understanding of our attitudinal decisions. Lonergan20 analyzes the conscious operations of man to see how conscious decisions are reached, as summarized in this chart: Level of Faculty Operation Product Consciousness Senses Registration of empirical sense data Perception Empirical cs. Intellect Understanding (inquiry) Hypothesis Intelligent cs. Judgment (critical reflection) Validated insight Rational cs. Will Will: willing; willingness Decision Responsible cs. Decisions are built upon all the preceding conscious operations. Our intellect not only takes what has been perceived (level of experience) to inquire ("What is it?") and reach a hypothesis ("! think it's X!'), but also judges ("Was that fight?") to validate the original insight ("No, it was a Y!'). Only then do we, according to Lonergan, reach the level of responsibility where we can make a decision (therefore, I'll . . .). In reality, for example, a feeling of unrest (sense data) gets tentatively tagged ("Maybe I'm angry"), then validated ("As a matter of fact, I'm furious!'), before reaching a decision ("1'11 try to get hold of this, see what's causing it and not just attack the first person in sight!'). "An admirable decision!" we might say, but it is not one that occurs automatically. Lonergan's four steps are clear, but they do not explain why the resulting decisions could be so different from person to person. We can fail to come to a correct hypothesis of the same sense data ("They're all against me!"), fail to validate it properly ("As a matter of fact, they're figuring out how to get rid of me!"), and so come tb a completely different decision ("1"11 get even--I'll outsmart them all!'). In this example, it is obvious that emotion acted as intervening factor to distort the appropriateness of our final decision even if the four operations remained the same. To help us resolve this dilemma, Lonergan distinguishes at the level of respon-sibility between will, i.e., the bare capacity to make a decision, exercised or not; willing, i.e., the act of deciding; and willingness, i.e., a readiness to decide that does not need persuasion to bring it about.2~ Obviously, there are some objective goods -'°Lonergan, Method. pp. 6-16. __, Insight: A Study of Human Understandingo(I,ondon: I_ongmans Green, 1958), pp. 271- 278; 608-616. Ibid., pp. 622-23. From Tablet to Heart / 507 that we might be more reluctant to choose than others. This reluctance of ours is our lack of '~antecedent willingness." The whole issue of freedom is concerned here--not just essential freedom which is innately given to our nature, but even more important for our discussion, our effective freedom, i.e., "the broad or narrow., operation range" which this essential freedom can exercise.22 But, according to Lonergan, one of the requirements for effective freedom is precisely that antecedent willingness of which we have been speaking. Furthermore, Loner-gan sees grace as directly affecting this antecedent willingness,23 the grace of sincere effort even without guarantees of successful outcome. Finally, antecedent willing-ness is directly affected in conversion: To religious conversion. I would ascribe as a minimum two notes: First. it is a change in one's antecedent willingness: one becomes antecedently willing to do the good that previously one was unwilling to do . 24 And yet how do we become antecedently willing to do the good? What is there that prevents our passage into that state of mind and heart? What more must be considered? Rulla makes some useful comments when he considers the interrelationship of personal dispositions, affective and effective, on Lonergan's four conscious opera-tions. As in the previous!y quoted example, emotions originating from needs may influence our perception of X, our first hypothesis concerning X, and our judg-ment concerning our first impression. Emotions and human needs can befuddle us enough when they are conscious; the situation is even more serious when our needs and the subsequent emotions are unconscious and, therefore, even more influential on how we judge a situation. Hence, affective dispositions, whether conscious or unconscious, influence effective dispositions (and especially antecedent willingness) that lead to decision-making. With antecedent willingness thus limited, our effec-tive freedom is also limited, with the result that our emotions resulting from our needs (especially when unconscious) can form the single most effective barrier to God's gift of conversion. Our resistance to cooperative grace can render the gift ineffective. D. The Psychological Dimension of Our Attitudinal Decisions We have looked at the process of decision-making from the point of view of grace on the one hand, and our will on the other. What remains is to see in what way psychology can complement and round out what we have already seen. Magda Arnoldz5 has devoted her life to a phenomenological analysis of emo- "-'-Ibid., p. 619. 23Bernard J. Lonergan. S.J. Foundations of Theology: McShane. ed. (Dublin: Gill and Macmillan¯ 1971), p. 226. ~'~Lonergan, Method, p. 241. ~Magda Arnold¯ Feelings and F~notions (NY: Academic Press, 1970). ¯ Emotion and Personality. II Vol. (NY: Columbia, 1960). 501~ / Review for Religious, July-August, 1982 tion, especially in its influence on choice, will, and action. Her work is both scientifically sound, value-oriented, and appreciative of our transcendent dimen-sion. Arnold maintains that all choice--even of the most transcendent goods-- usually involves an emotional component which normally is derived from a basic human need on the psycho-biological and/or psycho-social level. Actually, truly human decision-making is a secondary possibility that follows from a more primi-tive instinctual movement. In this earlier phase, something is perceived, and immediately appraised, in a spontaneous, involuntary manner, as "good or bad for me here and now," i.e., as appealing to a basic instinct or need. Usually a spon-taneous emotion of attraction or withdrawal is the result. Emotional Wanting Three additional factors enter into this intuitive appraisal or emotional warn-ing. The first is the physiological reaction which accompanies normal emotion, e.g., changes in cardiac and/or respiratory functions, changes in hormone and enzyme secretions, tensing/relaxing of voluntary and involuntary muscles (from which the whole gamut of psycho-physiological disease can emerge). Often, if we are insensitive to our emotional states, our bodily changes may be the first indica-tions we will have--although we may remain in the dark as to the source of our physical discomfort. The second element in intuitive appraisal has already been indirectly noted, i.e., that we may be unaware of the emotional reaction which is taking place. Two components may become involved here, either the object of the emotion (e.g., at whom I am angry) or the experience of the emotion itself (e.g., the fact that I am angry). In either case, my defenses have arisen so that part of what I am subjec-tively experiencing becomes lost to my awareness even though it continues to influence me. The further pity is that I can no longer do anything about it and will remain enslaved to an unknown factor. In this case, I can no longer exercise my capacity for conscious choice (e.g., what ! am going to do about my anger). The reason behind my lack of awareness (partial or total) of my emotional state may involve the third factor, "affective memory." Memory involves not only the who, what, when. and how of the past (modality-specific memory), but also the specific feelings which that event or person aroused in me, e.g., fear, attraction, hatred, inferiority (affective memory). It is quite possible for the modality-specific dimension to drop from awareness behind the defensive barricade while the affec-tive dimension is being aroused time and time again--explaining why, for exam-ple, I continually have the same angry reaction towards authority figures, since my affective memory is being stirred up in each case. Hence, this emotion-laden deposit may be a hidden factor which predetermines me towards/away from a particular decision/course of action. The connection between Arnold's affective memory and Lonergan's antecedent willingness should be apparent. Furthermore, when mention was made in the previous section of the affective dispositions which influence Lonergan's conscious operations, it was precisely this issue of emotional wanting and affective memory that was meant. From Tablet to Heart / 509 Rational Wanting Are we, then, to remain a slave to our emotional vagaries and to the needs from which they spring? No, for Arnold has determined that a second phase of the decisional process may follow the first. 1 say "may" because I can stop at the level of emotional wanting ("l want it/l don't want it") and mislake that for a real decision. Certainly, animals and small children have no further possibilities, but as we chronologically mature, our capacity for reflective appraisal or rational want-ing should mature also. Here, what is appraised and judged is the emotional reaction and its accompanying tendency: "OK, I feel that way! now what am 1 going to do about it?" Here, the possibility for a real decision, not just an emo-tional reaction, occurs. The emotion and its source is consciously and calmly accepted, but we remain in control to decide whether or not to follow the emo-tional tendency. Here we move beyond our spontaneous reactions to the possibil-ity of free choice: if human needs from our actual-self were the source of the initial emotional movement, we can contrast and weigh them against the values, ideals, and commitments of our ideal-self Here, Lonergan's true level of responsibility has been reached, because we can truly take hold of the movement of our lives and give it responsible shape. Either form of decisions can prevail in a given life, either the pseudo-decisions of emotional wanting, or the true decisions of reflective judgment and rational wanting. In the first case we have the child, the immature adult--the man of James' epistle who looks at himself "and then, after a quick look, goes off and immediately forgets." In the second case, we have the man who looks steadily at the perfect law of freedom and makes that his habit--not listening and then forgetting, but actively putting it into practice (Jm 1:25). This is a portrait of a consistent individual who knows and integrates both needs and values in an increasingly mature and transcendent life-style. Not only must we respond appropriately to our human affectivity, but we must also be open to feel increasingly attracted to transcendent goods as well--intimacy with Jesus and the desire to imitate him, which is the hallmark of the emotional integration and affective maturity of the saints. The understanding., is moved by affection [which] is love's hand. and this hand fills the memory with thoughts of me and of the blessings 1 have given . IT]he soul cannot live without love. She always wants to love something, because love is the stuff she is made of ICatherine of Siena, The Dialogue. 51). What Function Does This Value Have in My Life? Obviously we form habits of reaction or decision-making in both emotional wanting and rational wanting. Pervasive attitudes are being established which form a matrix of"readiness to respond" in the direction of our needs/emotions or of our values and their attractiveness. Hence the phrase "attitudinal decisions," since each decision that we make is based" on the foundation of our previous attitudes, emotional wantings and rational wantings, known and unknown. 5"10 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1982 Let us focus more closely on this all-important attitudinal factor. We have myriads of attitudes--beliefs about this or that person, the community, the super-ior, the ministry in which I am engaged, the responsibility which 1 might be asked to assume. The basic components which underlie this multitude are more limited since our attitude towards any particular object is shaped largely by our needs or by our values; hence we may speak of emotional attitudes or rational attitudes (with the obvious admixtures). Like emotions, we may be aware or unaware of a particular attitude--or at least of the source behind it. Katz26 has determined that not only is the content of an attitude important (e.g., "working for social justice is the only worthwhile apostolate for me"), but important also is why that attitude is held, i.e., the function, known or unknown, which it plays in my life. Hence Katz demonstrates that attitudes (and values as well) may fulfill, among others, the following functions: an ego-d~fensive.function: I need to work with the poor and down-trodden to lift up my own sense of inferiority and feel good about myself. a utilitarian.function: Social justice is the stated concern of our hierarchy, and identifying with that will help me get a particular appointment I desire. Obviously, few of us can be that direct and honest about our motivations (although, with help, we could come to conclusions concerning our real intentions, and then be in a position to do something about it). Sadly enough, research27 shows that the more needy and conflictual we are a) the more we will act according to one of these aforementioned functions, and b) the more we will unconsciously protect ourselves from that knowledge, leading to a vicious circle which is not easily broken. Finally, we may espouse an attitude because of its value-expressive function: in spite of the discomforts and difficulties involved, ! think Jesus Christ is calling me to work directly with the poor without self-seeking or self-righteousness. Obviously even when struggling to maintain "a pure intention," motives get mixed, The difficulty lies in the situation where we are unaware of the mixture and, therefore, unable to choose otherwise; where we are so convinced that only the value-expressive function moves us that we never honestly look at other possibilities. A Deeper Look Into Compliance, Identification, Internalization To tie up this discussion of attitudes with our earlier considerations of the self from which these attitudes proceed, we must remember that in a structured self these tendencies towards the predominance of emotional over rational wanting (or vice versa) or towards the prevalence of ego-defensive or utilitarian functions of attitudes/values all form stable structures, enduring inner patterns which lead to -'nDaniel Katz. "The Functional Approach to the Study of Attitudes" in Readings in Attitude Theory and Measurement. Fishbein. ed. (NY: Wiley, 1967), pp. 457-468. aTRulla, Ridick and Imoda. 1976, pp. 77-80. From Tablet to Heart / 511 persistent behaviors that may or may not enhance the vowed following of Christ. Another psychic structure to which we have previously referred was the tendency to adapt new attitudes]values through compliance, identification or internaliza-tion. 2s It would seem advantageous to examine these tendencies more deeply. Kelman theoretically distinguishes them as follows: compliance is the predom-inant mode when we adopt a new attitude]value leading consciously or uncon-sciously to a particular behavior in order to gain a reward or avoid punishment, i.e., a satisfying or disappointing social effect on a significant other or others. We do not behave in that way or proclaim that value unless others are there to witness it. We do not believe in the content of the value or behavior for its own sake. In identification, we do believe in the value/behavior, but only because it is relevant in the context of a satisfying relationship to a person or a group. I identify with my friend Fr. X who believes in]does Y: or, 1 am happy to be a member of Group A which believes in and practices B. "Being a friend of," or "belonging to" is my chief source of satisfaction and self-esteem, not the belief or practice in itself. When X is no longer my friend, or no longer cares about Y: when my role as member of A is no longer attractive, or when A tells me that B ispassb, then 1 have no reason to continue believing in and living that value, and it will quietly be extinguished from my life. Finally, in internalization, we accept and live the value for its own sake, apart from punishment or reward, apart from roles or relationship. We believe in it and manifest it, whether it is popular or unpopular, "welcome or unwelcome" (2 Tm 4:1). I will serve God with all the faithfulness of which I am capable--not for the reward promised nor for the sake of the threats against those who are unfaithful--but for the pure love of him (Frances Cabrini, Pensieri e Propositi, p. 170). How clearly Cabrini rejected any lesser motivation than internalization, acting only for the pure love of God! We are called to do the same. In Katz's terms, the attitude/value is lived in a value-expressive way, and not in a utilitarian or ego-defensive fashion, as would be the case for compliance and identification. Rulta has made some important distinctions and additions to Kelman's theo-retical foundation. First of all, identification is really an ambivalent force, since it may lead us in time to an appreciation of the value in itself, apart from the relationship or role. Most of us began religious life identifying with the group or a particular person: only in time can it be seen if our initial identification leads forward to internalization of values, or remains bound up in non-internalizing identification. Secondly, external social influences are not the only factors at work in these three processes. There are also internal personal factors, especially those hidden in our latent selves, which dispose us to react to the environment in certain structured ways. Thirdly, true internalization for Rulla is not just a matter of any -'SHerbert Kelman. "Processes of Opinion Change," Public Opinion Quarterly (.Vol. 25, 1961). pp. 57-78. 512 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1982 value, no matter how fervently espoused, but of values which are objective and true. To achieve this, therefore, there must be a double consistency, my actual-self with my ideal-self, and my personal values with the objective values of Christ and the Church. In other words, 1 must have come sufficiently to know and accept my real self, so that I can then be attracted to, and be converted in reality to the values of Christ. Thus does affective maturity in Christ become possible: "knowing and accepting one's objective and free self-ideal and living it."~9 So far, we have proposed a number of problems and pitfalls that can occur when subjective attitudinal decisions meet the objective truth of our new constitu-tions. What can be done about this? In what direction must our attitudes change to effect the true internalization that we all seek? As it can be suspected, whatever tentative answers do exist are neither altogether new, nor will they provide an easy panacea. However. in the second part of this article 1 will try to provide a frame-work that may be useful in clarifying such a task. -"~Rulla, 1971, p. 182. The" Activ e-Co nte m pl a tiv e' 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 Poverty and Incarnation John J. O'Donnell, S.J. Father O'Donnell is a Lecturer in Christian Doctrine at Heythrop College: 11-13 Cavendish Square: London WIM 0AN. A Jesuit friend once confessed that he could honestly say that he wanted to be chaste and obedient, but he could not honestly desire to be poor. This attitude probably reflects the attitude of many Christians. After the Second Vatican Coun-cil with its affirmation of secular values and its admission that building this world contributes to the growth of God's kingdom, many Christians desired to turn away from an other-worldly spirituality, symbolized dramatically by external practices of asceticism and poverty. Interestingly enough, however, even the few intervening years since Vatican II have revealed that the gospel does not allow such an easy settlement with the issue of poverty. From the opening descriptions of Jesus' humble origins in a tiny, utterly insignificant corner of the Roman empire, to his final moments on the cross, abandoned by his people, his disciples and even the God whom he called Abba, Jesus is indeed poor. No doubt some elements of the gospel story, such as the stable at Bethlehem, have been sentimentalized. But even a non-believer such as Ernst Bloch acknowledges that we cannot demythologize the poverty of the historical Jesus. He writes, "The stable, the carpenter's son, the fanatic among the humble people, the.gallows at the end, all this is the stuff of history, not the gold of fable." Furthermore, if the life of Jesus manifests such a restlessness for the kingdom that he is the man who has nowhere to lay his head, his preaching as well points to the poor man as the one who is in the right situation to grasp the message of God's kingdom. At the heart of the New Testament is the beatitude whose original form according to Scripture scholars is closer to the Lucan version: "Blessed are you poor." It is the literal poor who are in a position to grasp what Jesus is about. The 513 5"1~1 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1982 woes of Jesus upon the rich are full of pathos. Tragically the wealthy are in the wrong life-situation to grasp the good news of Jesus. The only hope for such people is to sell all that they have and give it to the poor. As St. Luke puts it, "Sell your possessions and give alms; provide yourselves with purses that do not grow old, with a treasure in the heavens that does not fail, where no thief approaches and no moth destroys. For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also" (Lk 12:33-34). In pointing to the heart, St. Luke touches upon the ultimate danger of riches. The man who piles up material things becomes a slave to the mentality of having so that he is no longer free to be himself. He so identifies himself with what he has that he is no longer free to be open to receive God's gift. God can only give his kingdom to the man who is poor enough to want to receive. Therefore, St. Luke's attitude to material things is to get rid of them as encumbrances to that openness necessary for accepting the good news. The gospel attitude to poverty operates on two levels. There is no escaping the fact that Jesus recommends real poverty but real poverty is for the sake of spiritual poverty. The latter is the ultimate goal but we deceive ourselves if we think we can achieve the one without the other. Bonhoeffer, in meditating upon the story of the rich young man in the gospels, suggests the kind of rationalization which we are all prone to make: "Jesus may have said: 'Sell thy goods', but he meant 'Do not let it be a matter of consequence to you that you have outward prosperity: rather keep your goods quietly, having them as if you had them not. Let not your heart be in your goods.'" Bonhoeffer rightly comments that such rationalizations prevent us from submitting to that single-mip, ded obedience to the word of the Lord which he demands. If Jesus demands both real and spiritual poverty from his followers, he has himself first embodied both these dimensions of poverty in his own life. The actual poverty of the man who began life in the stable and ended it on the gallows points to the spiritual poverty of the man for others, the one who loses his life to find it, who loves his own to the end. The actual poverty of Jesus thus points to the deeper poverty of his entire being. As Son of the Father he has nothing of his own. It is literally his nature to receive his entire being from his heavenly Father. And all that he receives he passes on in turn to his disciples. "All that 1 have heard from my Father I have made known to you" (Jn 15:15). The deepest poverty of Jesus then is the poverty which he has at the heart of the Trinity, a poverty which reveals itself in the incarnation. Grasping and possess-ing are so alien to his being that even his equality with God is not something to be clung to. Rather, as Paul says, Jesus emptied himself taking the form of a servant. He divests himself even of the form of his divinity. Paul sees that there is a logic which binds incarnation and poverty together. For what the incarnation means is precisely this: "He who was rich, for our sake became poor" (2 Co 8:9). And as the apostle further perceived, the sharing of our humanity contains already within it the risk of our rejection and the shadow of the cross. What then does this poverty of Christ mean for us, men and women of the Poverty and Incarnation / 515 twentieth century, who desire to be his disciples? Fundamentally it would seem that we are required, as Paul says, to put on the mind of Christ. The heart of his mentality is, as the incarnation attests, the self-emptying love of the servant of others. Matthew no doubt grasped this .point accurately when he modified the first beatitude to read: "Blessed are the poor in spirit." But poverty of spirit without actual poverty would be a rationalization and compromise of the gospel. For there is no way around the stumbling block that the God of Jesus is a God who is a partisan of the poor, the defender of the widow and the orphan, the champion of the oppressed, the seeker of the lost. God has identified himself with the outcast and those on the margins of respectability. The irrevocable event of this identification is the cross of the Jesus who died con-demned as a blasphemer and a rebel. In this event it becomes transparently clear that power-seeking is utterly alien to the being of God. This is the stumbling block which shatters the illusion that we can create an identity by grasping and self-assertion. The gospel proclaims that the weakness of God is stronger than men. If a man is truly grasped by this gospel, he cannot do otherwise than divest himself of possessions, not because he despises material things but because he is as restless as Jesus for the kingdom. And knowing who God is he wants to identify himself where God has identified himself, with the poor and the oppressed. It is not just a question of helping others. It is a question of identification. The man who believes the gospel of Jesus about the kingdom, who believes the gospel about the cross literally finds God hidden under His contrary in the ongoing suffering of the world. And here is perhaps the greatest challenge facing the contemporary disciple. There was a time when the gospel could be preached and understood in more individualistic categories. The neighbor with whom Christ identified was the man next door, the poor and needy of the village, other members of my family. But today it is impossible to identify with my neighbor unless I think in global terms. Our planet has become so small and the network of relationships so intertwined that one inevitably bears a responsibility for the suffering of men and women everywhere in the world. In 1980 the Brandt commission reported such statistics as the following: the northern hemisphere including Eastern Europe has a quarter of the world's population and four-fifths of its income: the southern hemisphere including China has three billion people, three quarters of the world's population but living on one-fifth of the world's income. Eight hundred million people are estimated to be destitute in the Third World today. It is estimated that hundreds of millions die from lack of food or will have their physical development impaired. The consumption of energy per head in industrialized countries compared to middle-income or low-income countries is in proportion of 100:10:1. Total military expenditures are approaching $450 billion a year, of which over half is spent by the Soviet Union and the United States, while annual spending on official develop-ment aid is only $20 billion. One could argue that such statistics reveal an injustice of tragic proportions according to the norms of any humanistic ethics. But for a Christian it is more 516 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1982 than a question of justice. It is the logic of God's love which impels him. If God's being is self-emptying love, if his preferential love is for the poor and powerless, then the disciple who accepts this transvaluation of all ~?alues cannot help but be in deep pain as he is assaulted by the suffering cries of the millions of the poor of the earth. He cannot help but want to identify with them and their plight, for he sees God's face in them. The more deeply one penetrates the mystery of the God of Christian faith, the more one sees the intrinsic connection of the incarnation and the cross. For incarnation is God's identification with creatureliness, finitude, powerlessness. And the ultimate consequence of this identification is the powerlessness of God in the cross of Jesus. To accept Jesus and his Father implies our taking this same powerlessness upon ourselves and our identification with the powerless of the earth. Paradoxically the more one loves this world, the more one is led in love to divest oneself of this world's goods in order to identify more completely with the dispossessed. In our own time it would seem that an authentic Christian spiritual-ity will call not for less poverty but for more. Meditating upon the massive proportions of human suffering, we cannot help but feel compelled to pray not only for the spiritual poverty of self-emptying love but for the grace to identify with the fate of the actually poor as well. The Contemporary Spirituality Of the Monastic Lectio .by Matthias Neurnan, O.S.B. Price: $.50 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review for Religious Room 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 Parables and Paradigms: Jesus' Journey and the Search for God Anthony Wieczorek, O.Praem. Brother Wieczorek, a seminarian, has taught courses on prayer and mysticism in the Continuing Education Department at Cardinal Stritch College (Milwaukee) and the Ministry and Life Center at his abbey: he lectures at St. Norbert College (De Pete). He resides in St. Norbert Abbey: De Pere. WI 54115. Scripture is the saga of a long and mutual search. God encourages and empow-ers all people to "seek God, in the hope that they might feel after him and find him. Yet he is not far from each one of us, for 'in him we live and move and have our being.'" (Ac 18:27-28: all Scripture verses are from the RSV). At the same time as we search for God, he searches for us. So much the searcher is God, so great is his longing for us, that "though he was in the form of God, he did not deem equality with God a thing to be grasped, rather he emptied himself, taking the form of a servant" (Ph 2:6). God gives us an example of how to find him and be found by him in the life of the God-man, Jesus. Nowhere is the search in all its varied hues of meaning, or the spiritual life in all its mysterious rhythms, more clearly seen than in the life of Jesus, the Proto- Searcher. The life of Jesus is itself a parable and paradigm which describes the ebb and flow of the search for God in true fullness and balance. Some insight into the movements of the spiritual life can be gleaned from the following section of Mark's gospel. In those days Jesu~ came from Nazareth in Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan. And when hc came up out of the water, immediately he saw the heavens opencd and the Spirit dcsccnding upon him like a dove: and a voice came from heaven: "'You are my beloved son: with you I am well pleased." The Spirit immediately drove him out into the wilderness. And he was in the wilderness forty days. tempted by Satan: and he was with the wild beasts: and the angels ministered to him. 517 5"11~ / Review for Religious, July-August, 1982 Now after John was arrested, Jesus came into Galilee. preaching the gospel of God. and saying: "'The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand: repent and believe in the gospel." That evening at sundown, they brought to him all who were sick or possessed with demons. And the whole city was gathered together about the door. And he healed many who were sick with various diseases, and cast out many demons: and he would not allow the demons to speak, because they knew him. And in the morning, a great while before day, he rose and went out to ~ lonely place, and there he prayed. And Simon and those who were with him pursued him, and they found him and said to him: ~'E\'ery one is searching for you." And he said to them: "l,et us go on to the next town. that I may preach there also: for that is why I came out"(Mk 1:9-15, 32-38). At least three movements with regard to the spiritual life are visible from this text: the journey of the Father to the Son (Jesus' baptism): the journey of the Son to the Father (Jesus" flight into the wilderness): and the journey of the Father with the Son (Jesus' return to Galilee). The Journey of the Father to the Son In Jesus' baptism the Father reached out to touch his Son. It is always God who initiates the search. Our search is a response to a search on the part of God. We seek and find because we have first been sought and found. What drew Jesus on to the Jordan'? May it not be the same as what draws us on to search for God? For a few, the spiritual life begins with an overwhelming experience of God's presence, an experience powerful enough to sustain them for years of diligent and serious searching. St. Paul's experience of the Risen Christ may be one such example. Many of us, though, are like Augustine. We search out of a want, a need, a hunger for something we do not possess or perhaps even know. God oftentimes initiates the spiritual life with a gift of hunger and longing, with emptiness rather than fullness. We are led on by the reality of our own emptiness. We may not know what we want but we know what we don't have. God some-times initiates the search with an itch. There is a wisdom in this that is often overlooked. The emptiness in which we find ourselves contributes to a condition of desperateness. No one is more ripe or willing to attempt an unheard-of cure or course of action than one who is truly desperate. Only one who has been readied by emptiness, hunger, and longing can respond to the impossible call of following God. Sometimes that hunger can build for years. Or, it may suddenly poke into consciousness even in lives which, in the eyes of the world, should be quite content and satisfied. For example, more and more people feel drawn to religious life during their middle-years, or at least at an age later than had been the norm. Whether their decision to pursue a religious life was a sudden thing or the result of many years of discernment, their choice to abandon one way of life and follow another is a response to a summons that is as persistent as it is intangible. Perhaps it is no accident that Jesus was well into adulthood when he was Parables and Paradigms / 5"19 .baptized. Maybe Jesus had tried to put off his call? Maybe Jesus was drawn to the Jordan by a hunger he had always had but which the Scribes and Pharisees could not satisfy? Jesus' baptism was itself the result of a search: it was the culmination of a decision to believe. Jesus' baptism was a surrender to the Father which involved the acceptance of a call and the attempt at a response. Therefore, Jesus' baptism was the beginning of another search to understand what the Father wanted of him. For Jesus, as for us, the completion of one search--the decision to believe--led to the commencement of another: what form of response is our belief to take? The Journey of the Son into the Father How strongly it is put in Mark's gospel, "The Spirit immediately drove him into the wilderness." Yet, it is not hard to imagine being so overwhelmed by an experience. There have been times in each of our lives when we felt swept away by the devotion of a friend, by an act of love, by a singular twist of fate. Overwhelm-ing experiences often leave us puzzled or speechless as well as joyous and grateful. Afterwards, we feel the need to wander off for a bit, to be alone to consider what really happened and ponder the reasons and implications for our lives. Jesus was overwhelmed at his baptism. The Spirit that drove him into the wilderness was bestowed through the power of God's presence, a presence that possessed him and forced him to try to understand more fully what had happened. The flight of Jesus into the desert can be seen as his search to understand the experience of his baptism. Our response to any situation is mediated by our understanding of what took place. To understand something, though, is not primarily to know about it objec-tively. To understand means to enter into another reality. Understanding does not refer to the ability to master the secret of some mystery. Rather, to truly under-stand someone or something, it is necessary to surrender oneself to it. to pass into it, to participate in it from the inside. When Jesus went into the wilderness he sought the time and space to under-stand the reality of what had happened at the Jordan, to enter into it, to submit himself to it. By leaving his former life behind and going out into the wilderness, Jesus was saying "yes" (2 Co I: 19) to the possibility of entering into a new life. His quest for understanding involved his submission to faith, his entrance into faith, and his participation in the presence and activity .of the Father. The understanding Jesus attained was the understandiffg available only to those who know through loving. Through the bond of love people can know not only what others are thinking but also what is in their hearts. It is by loving that we enter into the life of another, that we can acquire "inside" understanding. Such understanding cannot be earned or purchased: it is the free gift of one person's self-revelation to another. The knowing that comes from loving comes from open-ing up and sharing the heart of another. At Jesus' baptism, the Father opened up his heart to the Son. Jesus' wilderness journey was a searching through the Father's heart. Such a journey can only be made if the giving and revealing are mutual. Therefore, Jesus had to open his heart to the Father. However, by doing 520 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1982 so he opened it to himself as well. We cannot know God and participate in his life if we remain strangers to ourselves. Understanding comes by loving, and loving is a mutual and freely given gift. If we want to know God and search through his heart we must be willing for the same thing to be done to us. But God will not enter where he is not welcomed. We must guide God through our own hearts, even though they are foreign and frightening. In making a commitment to know God, we make a commitment to know ourselves. The search for God will bring us face to face with reality, with the truth about ourselves. When he shows us himself, God also discloses the truth about ourselves. We cannot hide from one without hiding from the other. We cannot know the one without knowing the other. The wild beasts among whom Jesus lived (Mk 1:13) were not all external creatures. Jesus would have also lived with all the urgings and desires of himself. Luke's gospel brings out some of this in his temptation account (4: I- 13). Jesus had to accept even the beasts within him and we are called to do the same. To spend time alone with God means spending time alone with ourselves in the haunts and wilds of our own hearts. There can be no conversion if we do not first know the truth about ourselves, both our strengths and weaknesses. The Journey of the Father with the Son In the third movement of his spiritual life, the tide which drew Jesus into the wilderness now leads him back. It .is important to see Jesus' return to the people of Galilee not as a separate mission but as a continuation of the one search that led him into the wilderness. The spiritual life as lived by Jesus is not an individual venture, not merely a way of achieving personal self-fulfillment. It is, rather, a way of responsible involve-ment in the lives of others, a life of compassion and service. The temptation we face is to view the spiritual life as a "me and Jesus"enterprise which lifts us beyond the troubles of life. To live as Jesus lived, however, is to live in the service of the whole human family. We characterize the spiritual life as one of serene detachment, blissful tran-scendence from the everyday world. This is not Jesus" spirituality. He did not leave the wilderness to complete his search in even greater isolation. He returned to Galilee because only there could he fully live the search. Only by participating in the life of the world could he enter fully into the life of God. Jesus' search drew him into deeper participation in the love of the Father. God is not a God who remains untroubled by the plight of his people. He is not an indifferent God. Throughout the Old Testament, God continually acts within the realm of history to redeem Israel by empowering people to meet the challenges of the times. The God of Jesus is the God who raised up Moses to lead his people out of slavery. God took Moses out of the solitary life of shepherding and thrust him into the very heart of the social and political arena of his day--even though Moses claimed he Parables and Paradigms / 521 was not equal to the task. The same was true for the Judges who led the people out of the threat of military conquest. God also empowered the prophets to speak on his behalf, taking, in the case of Amos, a vine dresser and making of him a missioner who confronted the social and religious injustice of the northern kingdom. We misunderstand the spiritual life if we sit back and wait until our spiritual lives are all in order before we enter the world of human needs. God takes the weak and makes them strong (I Co 1:27). He begins our transformation in the crucible of solitude but, for most of us, completes it in the arena of apostolic involvement. It was after John had been arrested that Jesus returned to Galilee. To be sure, Jesus considered John a prophet. Did Jesus feel called to "take up the torch" carried by John'? The search of Jesus led him into the responsibility of loving, as the Father loves. The return of Jesus to Galilee was response of love, not only toward the Father, but to all those whom the Father loved. Notice that Jesus came to Galilee, to the home of the outcast and oppressed, to empower the little people, to assure them they had not been forgotten by the Father. Jesus preached with both word and deed. He spoke and acted out of the Father's love. He proclaimed the fullness of time, the passing of the old age, the coming of the kingdom. He taught the necessity of conversion, of turning our lives around to face God (Jr 7:24). He proclaimed a kingdom where faith replaces distrust, love replaces the equity of finance, and understanding replaces judgment. To follow in Jesus' way, we are meant to be heralds and healers, echoing the Word with the quality of our lives. The healing Jesus brought answered a need that went much deeper than bodily illness. The town that gathered about his door (Mk 1:33) sought someone to heal them of doubt; he gave them someone to believe in. They needed to be healed of confusion: he gave them understanding. They needed to be healed from prejudice: he gave them love. They needed to be healed of their aimlessness: he gave them a way to follow. He healed them and so made them ready to undertake his own search. He restored their sight that they might see the way. He gave strength to their limbs to ready them for the march. He expelled the demons which bound them in fear to an age out of which they were afraid to pass. It must have been quite a switch from the solitude of the wilderness for Jesus to have found himself surrounded by demanding people. Yet, despite that switch, Jesus' ministry was a continuation of his interior search to follow the Father. He had .journeyed far down the road of faith during that day of preaching and healing. It is no surprise that Mark describes Jesus going out to a lonely place and praying (Mk 1:35). He had come a long way in a short time: from carpenter to hermit to preacher and healer. What went on within his heart? Had Jesus left the wilderness expecting to be a local prophet like John'? Had the need of the crowd spoken to Jesus of a new sense of ministry? God acted upon Jesus no less in his ministry than in the solitude. The scene may have changed but the voice still called. But what did it say? How had the new 522 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1982 forum altered the message? One step leads to another but where does the path lead? Where does the journey end? What is the price we must pay for following a whisper? Did these questions plague Jesus as they do those who follow him? For whatever reason, Jesus sought out the wilderness to again comprehend what had happened. He needed time to pray and reflect and understand where the Spirit had taken him and where he was to go. Blazing a trail is a much different matter than simply following one. We too need to withdraw from time to time to ponder the advents of the Lord in our lives. How has he spoken? What did he say? The voice is rarely so clear as to leave us certain. God speaks through daily events, but what does he say? Moreover, the hectic pace of life can cloud our sense of vision and distort our perception of the call. Living leaves us tired and numb. So many other issues seem more pressing than our private prayer. Amid the myriad tragedies of life, the pointless suffering and rampant injustices, how can we continue to thank and praise God? Life points more to the absence of God than to his presence. All this points to the necessity of continuing the search in the solitude of our hearts. The spiritual life is a relationship and no relationship is maintenance free. We need time for prayer and reflection if our spiritual life is to continue growing. It is no secret what happens in a marriage when the lines of communication falter and break down. Yet the time for prayer and solitude with the Lord is not simply a time to be "recharged," as though the Spirit were but a battery which served as a power source for our personal ministry. Our time alone is more than a time to be recharged; it is a time to grow in relationship with God, to share with him person to person. We withdraw for solitude out of the longing of lover for beloved. Jesus' solitude was interrupted by Simon's statement: "Everyone is searching for you." This was a time of decision for Jesus. He could stay where he was and let the people flock to him. Yet, this was not enough, he could not wait for them to find him. "Let us go out into the next town, that I may preach there also: for that is why ! came out" (Mk 1:38). A moment of insight, perhaps, when Jesus understood why he had left the serenity of his solitude with the Father and undertaken to come out and serve the people? He had left the wilderness not only to be found but to seek out and find a people who had become lost and scattered. Jesus, the Searcher- God, saw his mission as a search for the very people who sought him. He would not remain in one place as though he were the end of the search--he was the Way, the proto-type of searching. Those who followed him would be led by his light and come into the truth. He would tell them the way to go and show them the way to follow. The Son would become the shepherd, leading the Father's flocks back into their own pasture

Issue 41.1 of the Review for Religious, January/February 1982. ; 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. © 1982 by REVIEW FOR REI.~G~OOS. 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 FOR REt,IGIOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55802. 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 Jan./ Feb., 1982 Volume 41 Number 1 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REVIEW I"OR RE~.IGIOUS; 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 541h St.; Philadelphia, PA 19131. Back issues and reprints shoul.d be ordered from Rt:v,Ew Vo8 RE~oIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindetl Blvd.; St. L~uis, 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. Review for Religious Volume 41, 1982 Editorial Offices 3601 Lindell Boulevard, Room 428 Saint Louis, Missouri 63108 Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Daniel T. Costello, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Miss Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Book Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is published in January, March, May, July, Sep-tember, and November on the fifteenth of the month. It is indexed in the Catholic Periodical and Literature Index and in Book Review Index. A microfilm edition of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is available from University Microfilms International; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. Copyright © 1982 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. The Art of Wasting Time: Thoughts on the Expropriation of Leisure James W. Heisig Father Heisig, of the Society of the Divine Word, is a Permanent Fellow of the Nanzan Institute for Religion and Culture, General editor of its book series on East-West thought and Associate Professor of Humanities at the Nan:an University. His address: Nan:an Institute for Religion and Culture: 18, Yamazato-cho. Showa-ku: Nagoya, Japan'. In modern industrialized nations, time is thought of as an investment commodity with a fluid market value. The power of time to cure all ills that the ancient Greek proverb celebrated has been drained from it to reduce time to disposable mer-chandise within our control. Some people's time is now worth more than other people's time because they know how to use time .profitably, that is, to achieve maximum production with minimum consumption. The ideal management of time is measured by cost-benefit analysis. As a consumer commodity, time is also unevenly distributed: some people now possess more time than others, which they are free to invest wisely or foolishly. It does not take much reflection to appreciate how the metaphor of "annual income,"the most Oniversal measure of the relative value of time, has crept its way into the modern imagination and laden words once rich in personal meanings with the double entendre of economic connotations. And that is as true in the world of business as it is in the world of religious or humanitarian devotion to an ideal. We hear it said that the fund~.mental shock occasioned by the increased pace of modei'n living is that shorter and shorter periods of time enable us to achieve the same things that former civilizations took much longer to achieve, which in turn produces the need for constant novelty. In fact, we do notachieve the same things at all. By submitting time and human needs to new s.tandards, the quality of life 3 4 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 itself has been altered and important spiritual values siphoned off as waste. The trip across the Sinai that took the ancient Israelites forty years to complete would hardly take forty minu~tes today from t~ikeoff to landing. But whereas their voyage was a.journey that transformed a band of refugees into a people of God, ours is reduced to a mere change of location that takes place too quickly to effect any but the most superficial of insights. For us, time wasted in travel, in the use of outmoded tools, and in the inefficient use of resources and personnel is money flushed down the drain. On the one hand, time well spent promises the reward of time to spare; but on the other, the time that we have saved is only of value if it, too, is well spent. The result is that leisure has become a luxury item, with less to be found among workers today than there was among the slaves of ancient Greece and Rome. In such circUmstances, it has become easy to market time-measuring devices for popular use that approximate the precision of scientific equipment. A wrist-watch that takes time to wind and has to be reset once a week is an anachronism to the modern mind. The practical advantages of such accuracy are fictitious, but the ideological advantage is very real. We are so firmly locked into the modern myth of time that the thought of unclocking oneself, even for the purposes of relaxation, has become the moral equivalent of undressing in public. The idea of time that has colonized the habits of thought that gird the institu-tions of modem society--school, church, business, entertainment, travel, health care, politics, social action--has wrought a spiritual impoverishment on our native sensibilities. The reverence for free time Freizeit and leave from labor (leisure) has not disappeared, but its motivations have shifted. The important wisdom that time belongs among the "best thing~ of life" that cannot be bought and sold, that belong to all of us as our common human right, and that are their own reward, is in peril. The expropriation of leisure by the consumer ethos is one of the most harmful ideas that pollute modern consciousness and obstruct the construction of an equitable and sustainable global community. Instead of having time for oneself, time for the earth, and time for the human race, we have become content with having time to consume the goods and services manufactured in other sectors of society. We have come to think of time as a nonrenewable resource, and lost the art of wasting it lavishly for our spiritual well-being. Deliverance from this state of affairs begins with learning to make transparent the myth of time that we inhabit unawares. And onestep in that direction, it seems to me, is to have a look at some of the things we no longer seem to have much time for. Time for Oneself The story is told of a certain clergyman who went to see the famous psycholo-gist, C. G. Jung, complaining of an impending nervous breakdown. His story was a familiar one. Working fourteen hours a day to fill up his life of service with meaning, he found only a spiritual tiollowness to his work. The harder he worked, the more tasks he took on, the more his nerves stood on end, threatening at any moment to shatter through the fragile mask of the busy pastor and expose his The Art of Wasting Time hypocrisy. 3ung's advice was simplicity itself; he was to work a mere eight-hour day, go home and spent his evenings quietly in his study alone. Unconvinced of the wisdom of .lung's counsel, but sufficiently agonized to have no other recourse, the man made up his mind to follow the prescription to the letter. He worked his eight hours, returned to the parish house for supper, then retired behind the closed doors of his study for the rest of the evening. Some time later he returned to see .lung, reporting that, alas, the remedy had been a complete failure. Spiritually he was worse off than before, and the parish had fallen into disarray for want of attention. He had done everything just as he had been told, but to no avail. "What did you do in your study?" Jung asked. "Well, let's see, the first night I finished a Herman Hesse novel and listened to some Chopin l~tu~les. After that I read some Thomas Mann and listened to a Mozart sonata. Next I . . ." "But you didn't understand," .lung broke in. "I didn't want you to spend your time reading novels and listening to music. I wanted you to be alone with yourself.""Oh, but 1 couldn't stand it. i make such bad company," the pastor replied. "Aha! Now we see the problem," said .lung. "That very self that you can't stand for even a short period is the same self you have been inflicting on others for fourteen hours a day.~ The pastor's problem and the way he set out trying to cure it both belong to a level of cultural development that can only be called elite. The freedom to opt for a fourteen:l~our work day and drive oneself to psychological tatters, and then to reduce one's time of labor by 40% for the sake of spiritual hygiene; the possibility of consulting a professional therapist and paying for the service; the ability to read classic literature and appreciate classical music--all of these things belong to a style of life unthinkable to the great masses of humanity, who do not work for ends supererogatory to survival that can be dispensed with when body or soul collapses, but work to keep alive, and great numbers of them successfully. I do not mean to imply that the man's problem was not a real one, or that it should be classified, along with cosmetic surgery and Caribbean cruises, as needs bred of boredom or surfeit. I mean only that, like all spiritual problems, its roots reach over into problematic social structures as well, whose repair requires more attention to one's own soul. Of this, more shall be said later. What 'lung showed the pastor about himself, and what many of those who share his general cultural field can readily identify with, is that people will often go to extraordinary lengths to avoid having to look at themselves without a role to play. The crises of meaninglessness.that had attacked his work spread over into his leisure because of a common fundamental bias that value can only be generated by keeping busy at a socially acceptable task. In each case, he fled what he feared would do him more harm than anything else: his deep dislike of himself. In his work, the pretense of altruism threw up a thick smoke screen, almost as if deliber-ately to cloud the problem; and in his leisure the pretense of polishing up his education protected and reinforced the hollow ideals he could never quite recog-nize as his own. "Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself." Before one embraces those words as a commanded task, they need first to be accepted as a statement of fact: like it or not, one cannot love another if one does not first love oneself. And 6 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 there is no way to love oneself if one does everything possible to avoid spending time with oneself. The pastor's abuse of leisure meant that leisure was not a freeing time but an enslaving time. Instead of serving as a re-creational balance to the creativity of his work, it bound him more firmly to the estrangement he felt between his own innermost beliefs and his outward devotedness. The proper use of leisure, on the other hand, demands the capacity to turn solitariness into solitude, not to dread it as a mere isolation from things that have value. If there are human values that daily life and work sterilize conscience against, and if those values are truly the eradicable imprint of the divine on the soul of each individual, then the deliverance of the human from the inhumanity of which it is capable begins with a transforma-tion in perspective metanoia towards oneself. And that takes time, leisure time. To be denied that time to waste on oneself, or to deny it to oneself, is to forsake redemption from the common habits of evil that we all participate in unawares. Time for the Earth A second dimension on which our~modern myth of time has expropriated the functions of leisure is that of our relationship to nature. In order to get to the core of this problem, 1 should like to cite a story from the Inner Chapters bf Chuang- Tzu, the Chinese mystic and Taoist philosopher of the fourth century before the Christian era. It is a story about a certain master carpenter named Stone and his apprentice, and how they happened one day to encounter the truth about worth-less trees. It seems that on one of their voyages the two chanced to pass by a gigantic oak tree standing by a local village shrine. The young apprentice stopped short and stood aghast with awe at the towering majesty of the tree, whose trunk he thought must measure a hundred spans in girth, and whose branches were so immense that at least ten of them he reckoned could surely be carved into boats. But the master Stone just stalked off ahead without so much as giving the tree a second glance. Catching him up, the apprentice inquired of him why a carpenter should pass up such timber, more splendid than any he had seen since taking up his axe. "Stop!" the master rebuked him. "The tree is useless. A boat made from it would sink, a coffin would soon rot, a tool would split, a door would ooze sap, and a beam would have termites. It is worthless timber and is of no use. That is why it has reached such a ripe old age." That night the oak,tree appeared to the carpenter Stone in a dream and complained of being compared with useful trees that are stripped and pruned and robbed of their fruits or cut down in their prime because they attract the attentions of the common world. "As for me, I have been trying for a long time to be useless. I was almost destroyed several times, Finally I am useless, and this is very useful to me. if I had been useful, could 1 have.ever grown so large? Besides, you and I are both things. How can one thing judge another thing? What does a dying and worthless man like you know about a worthless tree?" The next day, when the °The Art of Wasting Time apprentice heard of the dream, he was puzzled. "If it had so great a desire to be useless, why does it serve as a shrine?" This time the master took up. the cause of the tree. "It is just pretending to be one so that it will not be hurt by those who do not know that it is useless. If it had not been a sacred tree, it would probably have been cut down. It protects itself in a different way from ordinary things. We will miss the point if we judge it in the ordinary way." Let us say the carpenter Stone, with his "ordinary way" of looking at things, is a type of technological men and women whose tools have so eclipsed their direct contact with nature that they can no longer revere the world except as something "useful" for their equipment. As the tree reminds the carpenter in his dream, however, there are values that go beyond the useful, beyond the values that civilizations assign to things when they judge them to be worth our "while." These values reach deep beneath the differences that separate the human from the rest of the earth, to the point of geocentric unity that was broken with the anthropocent-ric revolt against being merely a thing among other things. They reach beyond the divisions of means and ends into which people classify everything about them. Insight into such values begins with learning t9 listen to the earth, something whose importance we are only now rediscovering after a century of industrial progress. Even so, we have the greatest of difficulty in unplugging ourselves from the apparatus we have built to mediate our way to nature. The world is still viewed by and large as raw material for human civilization. We struggle to keep our environment free of pollution because we fear the spread of disease among people and the poisoning of our food. We lobby against the mindless pillage of forests because we fear the effects of soil erosion on our buildings and landscaping. We protect the wilderness because we need somewhere to "get away from it all." These are reasons that make sense to a civilized mind, but do not satisfy it quite yet. We still want more sense than that. Increasing numbers (especially those for whom there is no economic danger involved) are finding it therapeutic to sympathize with the plight of species endangered by hunting or the destruction of natural habitats. Others are relearning to use the tools that scientific advance had thought to render into museum pieces. Something like a spirituality of the earth is coming to birth, but its douleurs d'enfantement are spasmodic and uncomfortable in the extreme. Perhaps the major reason that the developed industrial nations of the world do not yet have time for the earth is that their livelihood depends on a world frag-mented according to its utility for tools, and on a work force of specialists who literally feed off of one or the other fragment. The kit of tools that provides us with our ordinary way of looking at the earth functions not only because it represents a considerable extension of the power of the human body--legs into automobiles, voices into radio waves, eyes into telescopes, arms into cranes, and so forth, in the great caricature that humanity has made of its own image--but also because it succeeds in devaluing any other way of looking at life and work. While this has made impressive leaps in scientific and technical progress possi-ble, it has also taken its toll on the human spirit in the form of a massive addiction I~ / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 to packaged, processed experiences of the earth. We seek respite from the drudgery of working at our own specialized task only to find ourselves consuming the product of someone else's specialization. The woman who sits from morning to night on an assembly line at a canning factory learns to put up with the boredom and servility of her labor by concentrating on the privileges it will give her through the money she earns. Come vacation time, she happily skips into a great steel can sealed in Los Angeles and opened in Hawaii, clutching her five-nights-six-days-cut- rate-holiday plan around which she has organized her hopesof regaining some of the dignity she had to forfeit in order to afford the trip in the first place. She may well spend her whole life without noticing 'that she is being sold on the earth in entertainment-packages by an industry that depends on people not being able to experience the beauties and pleasures of nature without their help. Such contact with nature, far from helping one to recover the basic human demand for creativity and meaning in work, only reinforces the same feelings of impotence, ignorance, and strangeness in the face of the complex machinery and bureaucracy that has come between people and the earth. From the point of view of those who have forgotten that demand, such time may be considered very well spent, very useful, and very recreational. But it is not the freeing time of leisure because it does not so much as waste a moment on trying to step outside the ordinary way of looking at the earth, to see nature once again from the inside as it were, as something valuable in itself. Time for the Human Race In addition to the estrangement from oneself and estrangement from the earth, there is a third dimension on which our myth of time has expropriated the dower of wasted time, namely estrangement from our own race. We who compose essays on electric typewriters and subscribe to journals on the spiritual life tend to forget that the technology we take for granted is still experienced as an oppression by the vast majority of human beings. Consciously it is felt as the oppression of neglect at the hands of those who dwell in the economic penthouses of the global commun-ity. Unconsciously it is felt as the oppression of envy for the equipment and the life style of affluence and the accompanying disgust with their own primitive enjoy-ments. For all the commonsense wisdom contained in the counsel that money cannot buy happiness, and that more often than not it only multiplies the possibili-ties for unhappiness, both the rich of the earth and the poor are agreed that it is a misery they would prefer risking. The consumer ethos that pervades and sustains a high level of technology at the top of the human pyramid also pervades and sustains the grotesque want under which most of our kind are forced to live. - By far the greatest part of the human community has no opportunity for employing the technological tools that are now transforming the fac~ of the planet, and in many cases do not even know that they exist. Those who use jet transporta-tion are an absolute aristocracy; for every one of them there are several thousands who have never ridden a bicycle. The number of illiterates in the world still far The Art of Wasting 7~me / 9 outnumbers the number of those who even own radios; and the number of people who own television sets is far lower than the number of those whose annual income does not reach the cost of a television. The rest of humanity, for which individuals in the developed world have no time, have fallen into conditions made more difficult to escape by the surfeit that one small portion of the world enjoys. At the base of the human pyramid there are ~hundreds of millions living on the borderlands of vegetation and death, which in turn belongs to a group of nearly one billion people whom we have now come to speak of as the fourth world. Above them is the third world, over half of which lives in a poverty they have no hope of remedying, yet a poverty tortured by the knowledge that some of the race spend their lives struggling to acquire still greater surpluses of luxury, and to glut themselves with still more of the already maldis-tributed fruits of the earth. Those who are born and bred in life at the top of the pyramid have little practical feeling for the current inhumanity that is ravaging most of the race. They find it easier to imagine science-fictional futures than to imagine the present reality, let alone to image their own complicity in the way things are. They may watch documentaries about starvation in Africa or floods in Asia, but fail to make any connection when they book passage the next day for a tour in the Yucatfin. Or perhaps better, they have allowed their.questions to be silenced by the whole tangle of government and economic organizations that constantly complain of how com-plicated everything is. They may know that the budget of New York State, with its twelve million people, exceeds that of India with its six hundred million, and perhaps even permit themselves a sigh of pity; but they entrust the sorting out of injustices to the experts who have been trained to worry about such things. All the privileged of the earth know for sure is. that they have no objection to others sharing in their style of life, provided it does not make any demands on theirown appetities. Clearly, this is not enough. Within a generation we shall have six billion people on the earth, with five billion of them living in poverty. The tactic of indifference, which amounts to a war of the few against the many, kills and dehumanizes more effectively than any weapon we have yet dared to use. But it is running out of time. As the poor arm themselves with the surplus of our .stockpiles, sold off cheaply to make way for more advanced weaponry, we cannot suppose that they will forever remain content with waging war among themselves. The smaller and more concen-trated the centers of wealth become throughout the world, the more vulnerable they become to the masses of those who have been trained to be jealous of what others are free to consume. The urgency of the situation, however, is not of itself enough to guarantee the quality of any and every attempt to alleviate it. Just as time for the self and time for the earth tend to get absorbed without remainder into time for the consumption of luxuries advertised as refreshment from working time, so time for the human race all too readily gets twisted into the donation of services that perpetuate the spirit-ual impoverishment of the technological world by camouflaging it behind an 10 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 idiom of charity. Those who are touched with a sense of pity for the maldistribu-tion of wealth and feel the pressure to help, all too frequefitly lack the requisite insight into their own patterns of thought to realize how their aid can amount to the substitution of one form of dehumanization for another. In providing hospi-tals, schools, factories, and modern transport for the underprivileged (that is, for those denied the right to consume culture as we consume it), the donor organiza-tions narrow their responsibilities down tc~ the unilaterial sharing of goods and values. The possibility that alternate social systems, now' rendered obsolete, unproductive, and unsustainable by the current management of the world's resources, may have something to, teach the human community about liberation from the consumer ethos is pushed to one side in the rush to make amends for gluttony overcome with guilt in the face of deprivation. I1: the price of providing bread for the world is further investment in the current means of producing and distributing bread, then bread for the world there will never be. The economics of this are fairly intricate, but the direct ratio th~it obtains between the number of people who are starving to death and the increased number of organizations and agencies aimed at distributive justice is plain enough to see. A leisure that is freeing for the human race is not simply time given free of cost by the haves to the have-nots, but a time for withdrawal from the ruling myth of time. It must, in the first pla~e, be a waste of tilne altogether free of investments economic or ideological, time wasted on the whole of the race, ourselves included. Of all the forms of leisure, this is the one that has become most radically enslaved to the biases of working time, despite the way in which improved means of communication have enabled an altogether new image of the universal h~]man family. There may be no greater constriction of.the imagination in the history of human thought about world order than that of the present day face-off in devel-oped industrial nations between the philanthropic illusion of the rich nations of the world opening their storehouses to share with the poor on the one hand, and the financial illusion of increasing productivity to the point of being able to sell more goods more cheaply without monetary loss on the other. And this, too, is a mark of grave spiritual immaturity. The Reappropriation of Leisure If I have left a good deal in the previous pages to innuendo and only hints of an explanation of how leisure time has become victimized by the spread of consumer metaphors, it was not only to condense a manifold problem into a few words, but also to prepare for what 1 wish to propose by way of conclusion. Simply put, it comes to this: that only the personal awakening of increasing numbers of individ-uals to the considerable loss sustained by civilization in its forward march into technology can provide the footings for a modern spirituality, and that only the redemption of leisure time from its servility to current structures of thought can provide the conditions for such awakening. The reappropriation of the need for leisure--an unadvertised, unprofitable, and withal revolutionary need--begins with the individual or it does not begin at all. No one can stand l~roxy for another's The Art of Wasting Time spiritual conversion. No expertise can service a society with personal insight, judgment, and decision. For it is not so much concession to the logic of particular conclusions that is the point, but the recovery of the process of working one's own way out of familiar biases. This process hinges on the art of wasting time. In the first place, leisure time should nurture a spirit of resistance to the humors of resignation that poison the bloodstream of industrial society. It should increase one's resistance to the workaday bias that the submission and trust due divine providence, for having cast us into a world with hopes in our hearts too big for our abilities, should be extended into a submission and trust in social provi-dence, for having spun a web of institutions so tightly about us that we are powerless to do much more than lay a hand across our inquisitive mouths and adjust as best we can. From the point of view of the world of time where work gets done, free time that results in raising basic questions about that world is not only wasted time, it is counterproductive. No doubt a life in which leisure means nothing but filling up with comforts and entertainments the hollow gouged out of the soul by resignation to the complexities of modern life is an ideal few, if any, would Openly champion. But the fact is, the bare physical need for periodic reinvigoration always has a spiritual dimension to it as well, and in industrial society that spiritual dimension tends to vacillate between the reinforcement of patterns of passive consumption of relaxation and spare-time thoughts about better pay, shorter hours, or increased benefits. In either case, it remains subser-vient to the structures of work and effectively concedes defeat to their power. It lacks re-creativity. This is the idolatry, of epidemic proportions, that afflicts the spirituality of technological society. Second, in order to offer this sort of recreational resistance to the spirit of resignation, time wasted in leisure should be an abandon to the spirit of playful-ness. I use that word in a broader sense than either the games of children or the athletics of adults to cover not only the labor of alternative activities but also the enjoyments of repose; and in a narrower sense than sleep or intoxication on the one hand, moonlighting or profit-making hobbies on the other. The playfulness of leisure has three facets. The first of these is the imagination of possible futures in which we might be free of the oppressions of the present. If such futures are truly' possible, that is, if they are able to emerge out of the existing world by a rearrange-ment of its priorities, then their entertainment in imagination is capable of being sustained and deepened from one period of leisure to the next. This in contrast to the scattered daydreams of wishful thinking that come and go for all of us without effort or lasting impression. That is, such images can accumulate sufficient form in time to lead to the commitment to some preferable future from among the possi-bilities~ To experience such a reorganization of hope in playfulness is to experience the genesis of an ideal within oneself. Not to experience it is to keep leisure locked up in itself. And finally, there is the transition from the possible and the preferable to the enjoyment of the future in the present. This is where most people are best at wasting time, even though they may not know what they are doing. It consists in the construction of a temporary utopia about oneself where the things one values 12 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 most can be savored. It is a timefor tasting ideals of companionship without strife, pleasure without labor, crafmanship without pressure, play without punishment. The reigning fear among those who wish to protect their leisure time from being absorbed by spiritual or intellectual recollection is that too much reflection inhibits enjoyment. And to be sure, there are those whose twisted sense of asceticism drives them from one cause to the other, volunteering their services and neglecting the wisdom that comes from having a good, wasted time. At the other extreme, enjoyment cut off from reflection about the future altogether quickly shrivels up into a mere pampering of a self exhausted by labor, with the result that it becomes less and less enjoyable and more and more like the pure passivity of sleep. Some-where between the two lies the art of celebrating a world that is not but might be for a while, a world filled up with the spirit of playfulness. Third, leisure should help foster a spirit of survival in the midst of this by no means best of all possible worlds. Just as the struggle for physical survival requires ingenuity in using available resources and at the same time remaining alert to the opportunities for deliverance if and when they present themselves, so too with the struggle for spiritual survival. It requires anger against avoidable evils, sensitivity to appropriate solutions in which one's anger may be expressed, and the capacity to wait without exploding from within or being sapped of one's energies from without. One may have to buy chemically treated food because fresh produce has been priced beyond one's budget; one may have to drive an automobile to work because public transport systems have become an economic deficit to the com-munity; one may have to put up with menial labor because one's skills are not in demand; one may have to swallow large doses of injustice, stupidity, and callous-ness. But one does not have to pretend to like it or allow it to embitter enjoyment. Survival means wedding a resistance to resignation with a love of playfulness so as to forfeit neither the gusts nor the disgusts of life. Fourthly, leisure needs to infuse a spirit of the sacred into the time that we waste. When the ritual, beliefs, and holy writ of a religious tradition become fettered to the myth of consumer time, they forsake their sacredness. When they cease to cut like a. two-edged sword that denounces sinfulness and announces goodness, they dull and profane their capactiy of re-creation. At the same time, when they provide mere divertissement from the trials of working life or serve only as platforms for supporting the flood of causes that wash through the mass media with the regularity of spring and autumn fashions, they betray their meaning. Sacred time is not an investment measured in loss and profit to the current problems of a civilization. It is a necessity--the necessity to hallow the self, the earth, and the human race as a single great gift beyond all desert. It insures that, whatever of practical use may come out of time wasted in leisure, it is the wasting that is holiest. Sacred time unplugs us from our own time and opens up a horizon of all time, against which the greatest sin appears as the desire for absolute control and the greatest goodness as the grace of being absolutely loved. All of us, every soul of us on earth, breathe the myths of our civilization as inevitably as we breathe the air .that surrounds us. They are transparent, taken for The Art of Wasting l~me / 13 granted, but essential for human .life. Leisure time is like a flute that transforms.the silent secrets in the air into music. It shows us the harmonies and the cacophanies, the purity and the pollution of our myths. Without leisure, we have no way to know the air about us, no way to love back the One who made us the,mythmaking animals we are. View From Behind Tapestries look like battlefields from the back. Threads like soldiers in hand to hand combat-- who is most resilient? Arms locked, elbows out, clenched fists of knot scattered like small skirmishes across the expanse. Who is most flexible? Stitches quarrel in overbearing voice, rush to trenches, maintain positions. Colors invade each other's territory, singing violent victories of light. All clamor, all struggle, It faces the wall of faith while the weaver and the watcher . work from the front. St. Anne Higgins, D.C. 123 Franklin St., Petersburg, VA 23803 Celibacy in Africa Matungulu Otene, S.J. Zaire's Father Otene, ordained in 1977, is presently working in St. Peter and Paul parish: B.P. 1125: Lubumbashi: Zaire. This article is excerpted from the booklet. "C~libat Consacr~ pour une Afrique assoiff~: de F~:conditi:," published by Editions Saint-Paul Afrique, P.O. Box 8505; Kinshasa, which was translated into English by Louis C. Plamondon. S.J.: Manresa; Box 47154; Nairobi; Kenya. In English, it is no. 65 of the Spearhead series, "Celibacy and the African Value of Fecundity," published by Gaba Publications: P.O. Box 908: Eldoret: Kenya, which graciously granted permission for our use. ~f the reason for Christian celibacy is unique, that is, for Jesus Christ and his kingdom, every Christian called to this type of life is also called to live out this experience in the context of his own culture and personal history. An African celibate today is not celibate in exactly the same way as an Indian of today, even if both are celibate for the sake of Jesus Christ and his kingdom. There is a whole world of emotions and affectivity which permeates our celibacy very deeply. This is so true that the world we live in affects the objective and subjective content of our celibacy. Both what we hear being said about celibacy and what we experience in our flesh by living out what is said, are rooted emotions. Without this emotive element, there would be no human celibacy in the full sense of the term; conse-quently, there would be no Christian celibacy since the latter is deeply rooted in human nature and since celibacy itself has also to be incarnated. The affective life of a South American--his way of feeling and living celibacy--differs from that of an African from Zaire or Senegal. Among Africans there are a certain number of differences in affectivity. However, even if it must be admitted that within the same people there are different ways of feeling things, this, nevertheless, does not mean that African peoples do not have a greater affinity with one another than with peoples from the West or the East. After all, their cultural heritage is common. This seems evident even if there are shades of meaning or subtle nuances which are hard to express in these few short pages, which do not pretend to be a psycho-so-cial study of human societies. 14 Celibacy in Africa The cultural milieu in which the young African lives has a very great impact on his response to the Lord's call. Celibacy is surely an area in which sensibility is a very important factor, if not the most important. In fact, coming as he does from a family where marriage is viewed in a very special light, the young African will carry in the depths of his being, perhaps through his whole life, the impact of this way of thinking. It will take only a circumstance or an event to awaken in him a whole world of memories accumulated throughout his short life. The fact that his grand-father was polygamous, that his own father had more than one wife, and that his own mother was not the first wife of his father, nor the one preferred, cannot but have significance in his life of celibacy. The mere fact of knowing that in his extended family there is somewhere a cousin with five children, each with a different father, cannot be without significance. Those are his half brothers, but this entails that this good cousin of his.is a husbandless woman with children entirely dependent upon her. To know that his aunt is a prostitute with children, cannot' but have some impact on him. It is no small thing to have a deep sense of all these situations and still, despite all this, to dedicate his life to God in conse-crated celibacy. This world which I have just described briefly cannot be found as such in Europe nor in North or South America, but this is the world that has shaped the young African of whatever black African country he may be. One cannot ignore these realities and pretend that they do not have any influence whatsoever on people. For Africans the child is a reality to be treasured; and each human being does all in his power to leave behind him :some offspring, whether he be married or not married, living the life of a prostitute or of enforced celibacy. All Africans desire to have children, sometimes by any means. The young man who hears the Lord's call is living in this very world and not in any other. His' reflections and ways of thinking are rooted in the environment from which he comes, in the psycho-social milieu which surrounds him. This does not frighten the Lord just as no human milieu frightens him, because it is in such complex situations that he manages to find celibates for his kingdom. Growth in the Life of Celibacy To be sure, other cultures also have their own difficult problems in this area. I am merely showing that our way of experiencing the world has an influence on celibacy and that the cultural traditions are to be taken seriously, but without exaggeration. The young African called to a life of celibacy or religious life will have to integrate progressively within his affective life the realities which surround him without seeking to escape from them. He will do so by looking at them frankly, without panic, in prayer, in his personal relationship with Christ in the Eucharist. God's grace is always there, and this is what gives us confidence in the face of the strong temptations in this life. This young human being will have to understand that since the Incarnation, God gives his grace through weak human beings. Accordingly, to see clearly within his own being, he will have to be open with another person who has the experience of Jesus Christ. The one the Lord will "16 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 put in his path will show him the road to follow and will give him courage in the moment of trial when temptations are strongest. Celibacy requires a lot of disci-pline. He will have to learn to exercise great control over his senses and sometimes to give up things which are innocuous, and to focus on the unique reality which is necessary, Jesus Christ. For certain types of people, chastity can be gained only after a hard fight lasting many years; and this can cause a lot of anxiety when it happens to people who are scrupulous by nature, yet desirous of achieving holiness. What I have just written is not rhetoric. It sometimes happens that young people are torn apart inwardly because they want to dedicate themselves entirely to the Lord but yet cannot completely control certain evil habits or certain attitudes which they find difficult to evangelize. I insist that it is a difficult fight--a fight to death--a fight which moulds a man gradually as he learns bit by bit not to depend upon his own strength but on that of the Lord who has set him apart from his mother's womb to preach his Gospel to men of good will There are less sensitive types of people who do not encounter very many types of problems in their development, but irrespective of their sensitivity, all will undergo moments when they are forced to make a decision for the Lord. The chastity that is required by a life of celibacy is not a case of spontaneous generation--it is a garden that must be tended lest weeds grow in it. When one has gone astray, one finds it difficult, sometimes even impossible, to go back; thus, it is not surprising that some young, generous people have gone astray. Vigilance is necessary in these matters, but the kind of vigilance characteristic of those who are sure of victory; for if Christ is with us, who can be against? Sooner or later Christ will defeat this devil of our middle age who likes to attack our flesh, born in the human condition, born incomplete. The young celibate, therefore, will learn not to abuse God's grace. He will be prudent; he will not take chances with his celibacy. He will have the simplicity of a dove but the prudence of a serpent. The married man who is a dedicated Christian will not flirt with other women lest his marriage, be threatened and, accordingly, his real happiness and that of his home. The same holds true for religious. They also cannot take chances with their passions and put themselves in the position of violating the gift they have made of themselves in the simplicity of their heart. Nothing escapes lay people when it comes to observing the behavior of reli-gious. They notice even the smallest detail when they want to criticize their priests or religious men and women. Some even take pleasure in judging them, in scrutin-izing their behavior to find the smallest reprehensible thing. In this way, they purify their religious, even without wanting to. Lay people are surely not gullible, even though they sometimes misinterpret the way African religious live out their celibacy. They can often distinguish between the religious who is loyal and faithful to his consecration to the Lord from the religious who is beginning to compromise and. to give in. Assuredly, their judgments are not gospel truth, and often one would do well to minimize themremembering that even the great saints were often Slandered by malicious tongues. Celibacy in Africa Certain Difficulties or Certain Illusions It is sad to 'note that many young, generous and seemingly solid religious have lost the grace of celibacy because of supposedly spiritual relationships with women religious and with young girls. There is nothing more dangerous than these suspect relationships between men and women religious, nothing more scandalous for African Christians than to see their priests, their men and women religious become involved in expressions of human love under the pretext of love in Christ.Many men and women religious believe rather too easily that they have been made immune to the weakness of their flesh. They are a little too quick to believe that they have attained the required maturity in celibacy. They sincerely think that henceforth sex has no hold over them since they have become spiritual. Yet, it is a very sad and illusory spirituality which makes man believe that he is now immune to sin. A really spiritual person, on the contrary, depends entirely on the grace of God without giving up healthy vigilance. I believe that the closer one gets to the Lord, the more one realizes that what seemed innocent until then now takes on the appearance of something that is not entirely pure. However, far from being threatened or discouraged by this increasing desire for purity, one has more and more confidence in the Lord and greater humility when one thinks 6f how little one is virtuous. In true love there is no fear. This is so, it seems to me, in the case of one who wants to respond wholeheartedly, day after day, to the call of him who has made us pass from darkness to his wonderful light. In my humble opinion, it often takes many years of solitude to be able to experience a true spiritual friendship in Christ with members of the other sex. The danger is to believe too quickly that the right moment has come. That is often when one goes astray. As for any genuinely Christian life, celibacy cannot go without suffering. There is no real celibacy without the mystery of the cross written, as it were, in the flesh of baptized people. A celibacy without renunciation, without a sacrifice that is willingly accepted, a celibacy which refuses to die like the grain of wheat fallen in the soil is a celibacy locked up in solitude and bearing no lasting fruit. There are people who are undoubtedly privileged because of circum-stances and especially because of the Lord, but let us not be too quick to classify ourselves among those people and risk spoiling the splendid grace the Lord has given to us--the grace of living the celibacy of simple people without any special favors from God, I mean without any extraordinary grace. This simple gift, in fact, honors the Lord just as much as the extraordinary gift that some of us humans might receive from God. I don't mean to say that it is absolutely impossible for men or women religious to experience a healthy spiritual friendship with members of the other sex, but I believe that some of us think that we have attained that stage when we really haven't. Often, because of a lack of restraint or a lack of real self-knowledge, one strikes up a friendship which will tomorrrow become sinful, therefore, bad for oneself and for theirs. A friendship to which we are too attached, a friendship which prevents us from fulfilling our duties is a friendship to be "18 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 purified or, better still to be abandoned while there is time; that is, as soon as we become aware off where it is. leading, the relationship must be severed politely and without human respect. This is for the greater good of the person whom we love in Christ; finally, it is for the greater glory of the one who has called us to holiness, Jesus Christ. In the same way, a friendship which would render a member of a religious order incapable of being available to do what his superiors want 9f him is simply not good. It is for the Lord that we have joined religious life, not for the purpose of surrounding ourselves with protective partnerships which go against true charity. In,his infinite goodness, the Lord may put on our path a person of the other sex for a certain period of time. This, person will enrich us through, friendship, and this enrichment can be mutual. But, here again, this gracemust be lived in all simplicity and with the necessary prudence since we are all weak, sinful human beings. Hope for Africa ~ , Certain missionaries have led young Africans to believe that celibacy is more difficult for them than !t is for young people from the West. This opinion is based on ignorance or it is a lie. The fundamental problem, in fact, is the same for all human beings; the conditions that are found in any culture are not qualitatively different. In the final analysis, it is the same fundamental problem for different people in different cultures; there are accidental but no essential differences. I have sometimes been shocked to hear this type of broad statement according to which it would be practically impossible for Africans to live a life of celibacy. For me, celibacy is rooted in faith in the living Christ. It is something which permeates the faith of the one who feels called, and faith is something which is given by the Lord without any distinction of culture or race. There are differences, but they are not so essential that they make a life of celibacy impossible in AfriCa. There are enough African religious to show th~.t this is true. Among these meia and women of Africa, often living in some isolated areas, there are men and women religious who live their cbnsecration to the Lord even in heroic fashion. Their silent example is enough to prove that celibacy is possible for Africans, at least for those who feel themselves called to it and who respond generously. Not too long ago, 1 was telling a group of young Africans the following: either we are Christians or we are not; either we believe in Jesus Christ or we don't believe in him at all. In this area there are no half measures. It's all or nothing. This is why faith in Jesus Christ requries a complete transformation of our life-style and of our outlook. One of the aspects of our outlook on life which must change because it is absolutely against Christianity is this requirement of a fruitfulness that is exclusively biological. A man without children among us in black Africa is one who does not bear fruit, who is useless and even an outcast. If there is an obstacle to the awakening and living out of vocations (and I am talking here about voca-tions to the priesthood or religious life), it is our too limited way of looking at fruitfulness. Many Africans believe that a man cannot be completely fulfilled in or outside of marriage unless he has many children. Among us, celibate people and Celibacy in Africa married couples without children are not seen in a good light because they seem useless to our society. It may be understandable that some non-Christians think this way. But for Christians this is disastrous. Haven't we ever meditated on the life of Christ? Can we ignore that he was himself celibate? Or do we believe that Jesus was not a man like us except for sin? Yet our creed is very clear on this. Jesus was truly God and he was truly man. If such is the case, why wouldn't we allow those among us who wish to live like Christ to doso? If it be true that the face of being celibate did not diminish the God made man, why wouldn't we accept that a certain number among us are not diminished by celibacy for Jesus Christ and his kingdom? Has the world ever known a being as fully developed as Jesus of Nazareth, our Love? Yet, he was celibate. Isn't this Jesus who lived without a wife and children still, even today, a source of all life for us? One doesn't lose anything by responding to his call, by becoming celibate for him and for his kingdom where we shall all have only one Father, his own, and where all of us will truly be brothers and sisters in the Spirit who makes us one. The young African is thus called to live a life of faith in Christ. He must not think that celibacy is more difficult for him than for young people in other continents. This is simply not true. Let us take the example of the West where today may be found pornographic films, sex shops, nightclubs. To live in such a world is not always easy. It requires a certain self-discipline. In order to live a life of celibacy in such an atmosphere, it is necessary to cling to Jesus Christ, to have a deep life of prayer and to receive the Eucharist regularly. The young African man or woman called to religious life will always remember that we live in a world of male and female; consequently, it is clear that we have to live our celibacy in the midst of men and women of our times and of our culture. There is nothing wrong with that; on the contrary, it is a grace that the Lord gives us by inviting us to live out his gospel in the midst of the world and not in some isolated corner. At the crossroads the Lord may put on our path certain persons of the other sex. We will welcome them as brothers and sisters in the Lord. The gospel is full of examples that show us how Jesus respected persons of the other sex. He doesn't send away the sinful woman who comes to the house of Simon, the Pharisee to have her sins forgiven. On this occasion, Jesus could have been afraid of shocking people by receiving such a woman with open arms. But the Lord was not afraid of what people would say or think because in true love there is no fear. Neither does Jesus judge the woman caught in adultery like the Pharisees who bring her to him. On the contrary, he defends her against the "unmarked tombs" who have grown old in sin and yet want to preach to others. Jesus is close friends with Martha and Mary as well as with their brother, Lazarus. Jesus has pity on the widow from Naim who has lost her son. The Lord admires the Canaanite woman's faith, and he is exceedingly affectionate toward his mother Mary, the Immaculate Virgin. In his Gospel, the Lord shows us how his celibacy did not exclude anybody. He Was completely open; he welcomed others. In solitude he prayed and he was a 20 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 source of joy and peace for the people that God, his Father, had placed in his path. If religious life is to flourish in our African continent,it is necessary that there be more and more religious who witness by their life of celibacy. A celibacy based on Jesus Christ cannot but be fruitful. Black Africa, which has such a high regard for fruitfulness, will see a new type of love which outstrips in fruitfulness the love of the children of this world. We, the sons and daughters of Mother Africa, have believed in the word of him who said, "there are some who are eunuchs because they have made themselves so for the kingdom of heaven. Let him who can understand, understand" (Mt 19:!2). If there is a word which has become the life of our life, that is the one. Spiritual Fruitfulness If there is a fruitfulness that is biological, there is another one which is spiritual. Any parent worth his salt knows that it is' not enough to procreate children. In responsible parenthood, it is also necessary to help the child that we have brought to life to grow untilhe has reached a stage where he will truly be an adult. To educate, to instruct are part and parcel of his awakening to human life. It takes only one instant for a couple to initiate the process of procreation. It takes only a little time to call someone into existence, but it requries many years for a child to become an adult. Whether it be as parents, as educators, or in any other capacity, all those who are engaged in human formation are doing a type of work that is spiritually generative. Any man who helps another one grow and become more human is a man who is gpiritually generative. This spiritual generation exists at various levels; yet, the spiritual fruitfulness of a Christian is not that of a non-Christian. From a Christian point of view, any Christian man or woman who awakens another human being to the life of God in Jesus Christ is spiritually fruitful. The object of spiritual fruitfulness for a Christian is Jesus Christ and his message. It is the person of Christ which distinguishes any typically Christian fruitfulness from any other. All Christians are called to be fruitful but in different ways and in accordance with their state in life. The form of life of one who wakens to the life of God in Jesus Christ is not something that is accidental. There are some who believe that the way of life--whether it be of married Christians or of "eunuchs for the king-dom of God"---has no importance in the process of awakening to life. But when one awakens somebody else to life, one does it with all one's being. If our way of life is not something external to us but a part of our being and, therefore, a part of our relationship to God, to others, and to the world, we can readily understand that this life-style is not without importance in matters of spiritual fruitfulness. In his life Jesus preferred celibacy to marriage, and this choice is not something accidental. The Jesus of the gospels presents himself to us as celibate and not otherwise, and this is part of the mystery of incarnation. In the same way Jesus was not at the same time a man and a woman. He was not both married and non-mar-ried. He was a celibate, and tfiis fact has some relevance in the transmission of his Celibacy in Africa message. He wanted to be born of a virgin, Mary, and this also is not something purely accidental or accessory in the mystery of salvation. Thus one who chooses celib~acy for the kingdom of God is fruitful differently from married people. This difference is rooted in the order of being and not of having. It is an ontological reality and, therefore, it is a dimension surrounded with mystery. The spiritual fecundity of those who live in celibacy resembles closely that of Christ. In other words, the way that Christ was spiritually fruitful resembles the way in which a man is fruitful through a celibacy chosen for Christ. Obviously "to resemble" or "to be close to" is not the same thing as "to be identical to." Wherever a true local Church is to be found, there will be found also Christians who are married and Christians who are eunuchs for the kingdom. Each of these forms of life has a great importance in the aspect of fecundity which is essential for the life of the Church. The uniqueness of the spiritual fruitfulness of a celibate for the kingdom of heaven shares something of the mystery of God made man, of God who wanted to be among us without woman or child while being eternally generative. Death Song of a Grain of Wheat Born above the earth, Beloved of the sun, Sky-held. Rain-touched. Wind-taught to dance, I know I sang of joy. Borne beneath the ground, Forsaken by the sun, Sky-denied, Rain-forgot, I feel no more the winds, And know a slower song. Yet reach I for the sun-set fires And C~rr the hidden waters. Stretched, song-heavy with the wait ' Of days too long to measure, I learn to trust the darkness That consumes me: That sends my myriad children to be Born above the earth. Sister Linda Karas. RSM Mercy Consultation Center P.O. Box 370 Dallas, PA 18612 The Sparrow Has Found Its Home At Last: A Personal Account of Transfer Anonymous The author is a sister who transferred from an active to a contemplative community some several years ago. She explains in the article why she prefers to remain anonymous. The sharing which follows comes as the result of a suggestion made to me that I write about my experience of transfer from an active community to a contempla-tive order. My first response was a hasty and hearty "No." Then the possibility of helping any individual or community involved in a similar experience crept into my prayer and thinking. The good which might be achieved seemed to outweigh my natural reticence and my disinclinatio.n to discuss the subject. I have not taken any polls, nor have I statistics. I personally know exactly six solemnly professed nuns and a few people in formation who transferred from active to contemplative life. However, one would'have to have lived on a remote Pacific atoll for the last several years not to know that transfers are on the increase. What follows is not a scholarly analysis of the phenomenon of transfer. It is just my own experience and an endeavor to share what ! have learned. The reason for my choosing anonymity is that I might feel freer in what I write and also guard the identity of my former and present communities. There is another reason: the story is more God's than my own. The transfer, or more correctly, my contempla-tive vocation, is his work, his call, his idea. My part has only been a response to his initiative and to his love. Early History The idea of transfer did not come as a sudden inspiration. My first desire to be a nun came when ! was twelve and I was certain then that I was called to be a contemplative: I even knew to which order and monastery I was attracted. Some-thing, though, interfered with following this vocation: My father adamantly opposed the idea of his daughter being immured in a cloister. The whole topic was 22 A Personal Account of Transfer forbidden, and gradually I forgot the idea. In the meantime, I became acquainted wi~h the sisters working in our parish. I won my father's consent to join this :community which 1 genuinely loved and admired. I received a good fo, rmation and an excellent education. I was very happy and contented. One thing consistenly moved and drew me: prayer. Right from the beginning I had some difficulty with meditation books and their outline of points, colloquies and resolutions. It all seemed too ready-made. Also, the time given to this prayer (one-half hour) never seemed to satisfy my longing for greater intimacy and depth. My difficulty was remedied by the fact that God simply transcended the books and led me along his chosen path for me in prayer. Another remedy came by way of hiding alone in solitary places on the novitiate property. There God had free rein in my heart. The one thing I most wanted was to love him and see him known and loved. Of course I did try to speak of this desire to superiors. They seemed mbre concerned that I live the common life, practice virtue, and eliminate my faults. All this was quite understandable but not terribly encouraging. Matters came to a head when I became a junior sister. My desires for loving God alone and in hiddenness, and for a life which would embrace withdrawal and penance became a steady fire within me. Neither studies nor work could distract me from it. After some months of inner turmoil I finally had the courage to broach the subject of a contemplative vocation to the community confessor, a, retreat maste.r, and my immediate superior. None of these persons told me the whole thing was a temptation against my vocation, but since 1 was happy and well adjusted, they each felt that I had enough opportunity for the things I was seeking within the scope of the religious life as it was then being lived in the congregation. Again, this was essentially what I had been told in the novitiate. My disappoint-ment was as strong as the attraction I had experienced but l was able to set aside my yearning. The work in which I was engaged kept me busy. I enjoyed it and gave myself to it wholeheartedly. A few years later, an unforgettable retreat, coupled with God teaching me to pray with Scripture some months after retreat, gave direction and support to me in my relationship with him. He was so near, and daily he spoke to me in his word. This did not rekindle the desire for contemplative life~ but it did establish me firmly in the way of contemplative prayer. This brief history serves, I think, to underscore a fact in my life and in the lives of those women whose stories of transfer I know well: the vocation was felt very early and not taken too seriously by those in a position to advise and assist. Had they done so, a good deal of the suffering, struggle and turmoil of coming to a decision to transfer,after many years in an apostolic congregation might have been mitigated. . Coming to a Decision In the years following Vatican Council II my community undertook its renew-al and adaptation. I welcomed all the initial changes as healthy and hopeful. As time went on, however, I became unhappy with my own and the community's level 24 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 of secularization. My modest wardrobe and collection of trifling possessions troubled my conscience. I wanted and expected to receive annual assignments, but the new approach of applying for both position and residence, with the full expectation that one's preferences would be honored, contradi6ted my understand-ing of Gospel obedience. T.V., mixed drinks, popular novels, dating, and all the inevitable departures from religious life were matters of grave concern to me. It seemed to me that the true life of the community was ebbing away, that God and the love of God were no longer the focus of life. We still did a first-class job in our work, but there appeared to me~ little difference between ourselves and dedicated lay persons. Without going into more detail, I felt it necessary to include the foregoing inasmuch as it formed some of the background for my transfer. However, I do not feel that discontent and disapproval, even if justified, are good reasons for transfer. They would form a very shaky foundation for any new beginning and would surely raise questions in the community accepting a transfer sister. Flight from trouble could well indicate that the same pattern would be followed in the new community. It could also mean that the heart of the problem might be within the sister herself, and her response to difficult circumstances. Fleeing trouble was never part of my motivation. Had this been the case, I would have done it much sooner because I lived in painful community situations for several years before making a transfer. Furthermore, 1 was always very open and honest in communicating my thinking to my superiors. One cannot simply leave. There must be integrity in the decision and it should be made in peace and, as far as possible, in harmony with one's higher superiors. There should be no bitterness, resentment or anger. The vocation is followed as God's call and is a result of his initiative. This fact, if kept central in the minds of all concerned, makes for peace; and it is in this way that God's presence manifests itself to all involved. God uses all our experiences to our good and brings about his purposes. While not my motivation, discontent and disapproval were part of my personal expe-rience and did serve to keep me from what I saw as wrong, In a more positive vein, they ,kept me praying for God's light, strength and help. Certain tragic events in my own family also form a part of this picture and had their effect. Instead of completely discouraging me or leading me to despair or exodus from religious life altogether, everything brought me to the God of all peace and consolation. He alone became myRock of Refuge and Teacher. The alienation I experienced from my community and its value increased my love for him and my trust in him. Thus it was that my attraction for simply being with God in love grew stronger. A mere "concidence" (in quotation marks because the providence of the God who numbers the hairs of our fieads extends to every circumstance and happen-ing) occasioned my writing to the superior of a monastery. In time we became correspondents. When I first visited her and met her community in the grilled and bare parlor of the monastery I was deeply moved. This surprised me. I had not thought of contemplative life as my vocation for years, yet here 1 was, feeling completely at home with relative strangers and very strongly drawn to their sim- A Personal Account of Transfer / 25 plicity, humility, joy, peace and poverty. In the months that followed 1 was haunted by the experience. I found out more about their life and read of their origin. Could it be? Might 1 become one of them? Or was this merely a desire for escape from present suffering ("the grass is always greener.") or a dream too good to be true? Then, too, there was the possibility to be faced that God was calling me to deeper contemplative prayer rather than actual contemplative life. And might I be doing more good in the world outside a cloister rather than in it? I went through this inner and secret turmoil for several months. All the while 1 begged for light and some discernible, positive direction from God. 1 kept waiting and hoping for some outside confirmation of God's will. God was, in fact, giving me all the "signs" I needed, but I distrusted the most significant of them: the profound attraction the life held for me over the years and especially at that moment, the fact that it fulfilled the most unselfish aspirations of my heart, and the fact that I seemed to have the requisite "talents." How is it we so readily distrust our own intuition and heart? Yet here at the deepest level of our being is where God works. Again, I have heard the same experience related by others who transferred to contemplative life. 1 went through no particular "process" of dis-cernment. There was just myself and, I trust, the Holy Spirit, plenty of tears, prayer, and searing, soul-searching honesty. One thing 1 knew: my life had one purpose and that was to love God with all my heart and soul, mind and being and to tend solely to him. Nothing else mattered. I did not see it then as clearly as I do now, but that, too, was evidence of a contemplative vocation, and had been the most important reality in my whole religious life. In his own time, God spoke, and he completely calmed the storm. I came to a "peace surpassing understanding." All my doubts vanished. My questions came to an end. I knew. In light of that peace I first asked the superior of the monastery (of the same order as that to which I was first attracted at the age of twelve) if there were any possibility of her accepting me. At the time I made my request I know now I was too little aware of the risk a small enclosed community takes in accepting a transfer. 1 next confided in my old and saintly grandmother who gave me her blessing, encouragement and wisdom--along with a warning that there was "still plenty of the world" in me and that I'd have far to go. She was absolutely correct. With my grandmother's prayers to back me, I approached my major superior. She was wonderful and accepting. The depth of my peace and conviction were evident to her. She fully realized and agreed.that this was a genuine vocation and not a result of any differences of values or opinions. We communicated in a real spirit of love. Not knowing much about contemplative life, her concern was that my personality might be stifled or my gifts ignored and unused. 1 had tentatively broached the subject to a priest friend in a letter some weeks before. Visiting him, 1 told him the whole story and said that I really thought it was God's will for me to transfer. He informed me that it came as no surprise to him, that he had seen it coming but had not wanted in any way to interfere with God's guidance of me. Among my family and friends, the least suprised was my mother. Her intuition had led her to realize that a great change was in the offing. 96 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 The responses of all the above mentioned persons further confirmed my expe-rience. I cannot say that my decision was accepted or understood by all my friends and religious family. It caused some painful estrangements and there were those who could only accept it as my "thing" and therefore all right for me. The actual process of transfer was thus initiated after what had felt like an interminable period of waiting and praying. Perhaps God wanted me to realize that it was first necessary that I be utterly surrendered to his desires and that the only way he could achieve this was to let me struggle on "alone" during that time. It was a kind of game of love. He so deeply drew me but never let me fully reach him. Left to myself 1 could not believe in my own heart. It was not until he gave me that unmistakable sign and gift of peace that 1 was sure that what I had been experiencing in my own heart was indeed his will for me, that the two were not two, but one. Legal Process of Transfer Because 1 am rather sure questions about procedure will arise, it may be helpful here to tell what 1 know about getting the document known as a "Rescript of Transfer" from the Sacred Congregation for Religious. In my own case this was done in the last months of my postulancy immediately prior to my receiving the habit and commencing my canonical year. For the validity of novitiate, one must have this document. Ordinarily the Vicar for Religious of the diocese in which the monastery is located handles the paperwork. He directed that three letters be written: the first by the superior of the community ! was leaving expressing her approval and her willingness to receive me back at any time before solemn vows should I leave the monastery; the second by the superior receiving me stating her willingness to receive me and including pertinent data regarding my status in religion (name, age, years professed, community of origin); the third by myself. handwritten and addressed to the Pope, stating my request and my reasons for it. These letters are sent to the Vicar who forwards them to.Rome through his office. In approximately six weeks, upon receipt of the rescript, he sends copies to the superiors. This is, as ! understand it, the general procedure, although I have heard of it being done through the Vicar of the diocese which the transferring sister was leaving. I have also heard of cases handled by a major superior independently of the Vicar for Religious. The superior dealt directly with the Sacred Congregation for Religious. In any case, this rescript is the only permission one needs to begin the canonical year and proceed through formation to vows. New Beginning I entered upon my new life with certain expectations. Some were realistic and some not so realistic. It was realistic to expect some sense of dbjb vu. This was in many ways a return to customs and practices l had lived in my first several years of religious life. With these things I was at home. I had also rightly anticipated a warm community life. Of course 1 allowed for a period of adjustment, but I did not A Personal Account of Transfer expect it to last more than six to eight weeks, in fact, it took much longer than that. The reason was not that I was too old to learn or change or that 1 lacked a willing docility. It was more subtle than this. Without realizing it, I expected to enter upon a period of rest, a sort of honeymoon in a safe harbor after years of struggle and sorrow. This was not to be. For one thing, the monastic community I entered was going through its own renewal pains. And much worse, for me, was that when I came in the front door of the monastery it seemed that God left by the back door. Here 1 was at last, and where was he? The work tired me. The hard bed took some getting used to. Often it was impossible to get back to sleep once it had been broken by the Office or night adoration of the Blessed Sacrament. Sometimes the closeness of my neighbors irritated me beyond measure. There were no days off from routine. I expected to master everything easily but it turned out that I was the one to be mastered. After many years in religious life it amazed me to learn how deluded I was about myself. Without the distractions of apostolic work and all that goes with it, without useless conversation, reading and entertainment, God's light began to clarify my vision. The very starkness of the life, its purity, makes for this experience. I was face to face with myself, my weakness, my poverty. Anything is possible if God is tangibly supporting us. It is when he is appar-ently nowhere to be found that things get out of hand and we are unable to cope with the simplest and most normal inconveniences and trials of daily life. But ought not a contemplative be able always to find refuge in prayer? Self-made prayer is most unsatisfactory. What a contemplative learns by being unable to pray, by being reduced to utter poverty at every level of existence (and this was my experience) is just to cling in naked faith to Jesus Crucified. Paradoxical as it may sound, there is no greater happiness. Having come to this reality through suffering, both in my life before 1 entered the monastery and in the years 1 have been here, I know something of what it means to say with Paul that I have been crucified with Christ, that my life is not my own and Christ lives in me (Ga 2:19-20). The way to the deepest joy I have ever known is just as the Son of God has taught us and that way is by losing my life and denying my very self. The total experience of knowing myself as nothing, of having nothing, has opened my eyes in faith to the All within me, the Being who in unfathomable love calls non-being into union with himself. My love for God, my hunger for him, unites me at the Heart of Reality with all my brothers and sisters in this world. I do not live for myself, nor suffer for myself, nor weep for myself. My vocati6n embraces every person on earth. In their names 1 pray and work. In their names, I, too, am in misery and pain. I am a whole world calling to God in need, in love, in trust. 1 have entered eternity in time and within me there is infinite scope for love. I came because of love and I have stayed because of love. Surely it is "a narrow gate and a hard road" (Mt 7:13-14), but it "leads to life," life opening more and more into the mystery of God as love. The Needs of Contemplatives in Direction Barbara Armstrong, O.SS.R. This article had its origin in a presentation made to a group of retreat masters by Sister Barbara, a cloistered nun residing in the Redemptoristine Monastery; Liguori. MO 63057. Somewhere in her writings, the great St. Teresa compares the contemplative with the standard-bearer in battle. She says that, because he is the standard-bearer, he is exposed to great danger. He can't defend himself because he carries the standard, of which he must not let go--even if he is to be cut to pieces. "Contemplatives," she says, "have to bear aloft the sign of humility, the Cross. And they must suffer all the blows aimed at them without striking back. Their duty is to suffer as Jesus did." "Let them watch what they are doing," she says again, "for if they let the standard fall, the battle is lost." It isn't the standard-bearer who is important. It is the standard itself which is all important, for it is imprinted with the sign of our salvation: the Cross. Perhaps this is why there are so few contemplatives. Perhaps, too, this is why contempla-tives need all the help they can get just to respond fully to the call of their vocation, to persevere and become fruitful in the Church of today. You Have No Eyes to See The message sent to the Church in Laodicea, in the Book of Revelation, is also a message meant for contemplatives--and for those who guide them. Right after the familiar passage about lukewarmness, we hear the Lord say: "You have no eyes to see that you are wretched, pitiable, poverty-stricken, blind and naked. My advice to you is to buy from me that gold which is purified in the furnace, so that you may be rich, and white garments to wear so that you may hide the shame of your nakedness, and salve to put on your eyes to make you see." That phrase, "You have no eyes to see," is significant for us because ignorance The Needs of Contemplatives in Direction is one of the reasons why relatively few contemplatives ever attain the end for which they were called: union with God. Mystical graces, we are told, are always available. God's goodness and generosity are never lacking. But very few actually arrive at a state of contemplation. Why is this? To answer this question, I would like to tell you a story. Actually, it is a parable which is told in the book of a Carmelite nun, Sister Ruth Burrows. Here is her parable. A Love Story Hidden away in a valley surrounded by high mountains there lived a very primitive tribe. The people of this tribe knew very little of the world outside their valley. Occasionally, they would get a glimpse of a jet streaking across the sky far over their heads, and this, they thought, was one of the gods throwing spears at another. One day a man appeared in the valley, a young anthropologist. He had come to study the tribe at close quarters--if they would have him. But they were a gentle tribe, so they welcomed him. The young man was lodged in the chief's hut and lived there for some years. Eventually he fell in love with the chief's daughter and married her. Hitherto, the girl had thought herself wealthy. Was not her father the most powerful of their people? But the closer she grew to her beloved, the more she saw that her riches--the family cattle, some cooking pots and animal skins--were as nothing compared to the possessions that were her husband's. He had materials, leathers and machines, knives and matches to make fire--riches unimaginable. But the girl saw, too, that her husband's greatest delight was to share his riches with her. Her lack merely aroused his bounty, so she knew her poverty itself primarily as a richness, giving them both pleasure. There came a time when the anthropologist had to leave and, taking his wife with him, he returned to his own civilization. The native girl found this new environment terribly alien. She discovered, to her horror, that her husband's enemies laughed at him behind his back because of his primitive wife. Even his friends pitied him. She didn't know what to do with this bitter knowledge. Some-how she had brought disgrace on her loved one. The girl always knew that her husband loved her. She knew that he longed to share his heart with her, take her completely into his life. But when he tried to speak of so many things closest to him, she would notice his voice falter, for she could not follow even the meaning of his words, let alone the scope of his thoughts and concepts. She was shut off from him by her own limitation and ignorance. That caused her distress almost beyond bearing. The more she realized what her poverty cost her beloved, the more absolute became her will to escape from it for his sake. Equally the more clearly did she see that, of herself, there was no escape. But all was not lost because she also realized that in her husband she had come not only to understand her poverty, but to find an effective and everpresent escape from it. From him she could receive all that his Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 love had prepared for her. So she opened her heart to everything he had to offer her. She found in him the most loving of teachers. Soon she became the echo of his thought. There passed between them intimate glances of complete understanding. She had an intuitive knowledge of how his mind worked, so closely did she grow to him. Yet she bad lost nothing of that natural woman he had first loved. On the contrary, she only now realized her own innate capacity. Her enrichment had brought all that was already there to bloom. But now, more than ever, she knew, too, that this was all his doing. Every perception, every growth, had come from his love and his teaching. Genuine Contemplatives This story, lengthy though it be, brings out so many important points about the contemplative vocation. Years ago, maybe it's different now, one of the phrases we often heard was that "we should strive for perfection." This tended to make us think that we could do it all ourselves. The main idea seemed to be that we were in control of our lives. The success of things depended on our own efforts. And so, many of us thought we could become contemplatives by the things we did. Like the primitive tribe of our story living in their valley, though, our horizons were very limited. We were content with our regulated existence, our own personal riches and the consolations sent us from time to time by a loving God. Much confid~nce was attached to the good things of our little enclosed world. We had no eyes to see beyond our then present peaceful life. But since we are meant to be genuine contemplatives, Jesus began to break through our ignorance and complacency. He asked us to leave our valley of poverty. He invited us to a rich interior world, one we had never dreamed of. These invitations continue to be offered to us in many ways. Perhaps they come in a retreat, in a sermon, in our reading, or through the words of a friend. But the voice is the voice of Jesus, and he invites us over and over again. If the primitive tribe in our story had turned away the young anthropologist when he came among them, he would never have married the chief's daughter. She would never have learned about the larger world; she would have stayed in her ignorance. Think of all the beauty, rich, ness and love of which she would have been deprived. The great St: Teresa was satisfied for a long time with her routine religious exercises, even though in her heart she knew better. We read that she continued to live just over twenty ,years with her heart divided between two extremes: the pleasures, satisfactions and pastimes of her fashionable world, and the spiritual life of a contemplative. How can this happen? How can we contemplatives continue to fool ourselves ---even though we are continually prodded, continually touched by grace? One of the ways we contemplatives have of staying in our valley of poverty is by our attachment to .the Law. We can" fall prey to a sort of fanatical legalism. The Needs of Contemplatives in Direction Most often, it seems, it is the most pious of persons who become rigid and unbending formalists. "Here at last," we say, "is something solid to hang on to." In our own eyes we are in the right. "We are doers of the Law." Any ,doer of the law, however, will also be tempted to live by the law, whereas the true lover of Jesus lives by the spirit. We contemplatives tend to make the Law, and it alone, our security. We never even dream that it is possible to seek a perfection in anything whatever with an intensity of zeal that is in itself imperfect. For instance, often in the past, the cross, austerity, suffering was unthinkingly perverted by us in our zeal. Wehad the idea that, since we were only pleasing God when we were suffering, the more suffering the better. Fearing and hating our bodies, we thought, would make us spiritual people. This, together with the notion that we were redeemed by suffering since Jesus died for us, we pushed .to its logical conclusion, thinking that we could never have too much suffering. It wasn't suffer-ing that redeemed us. It was love.t We contemplatives can develop attachments to just about anything: to prayer and fasting for their own sake; to a pious practice or devotion; to a custom or system of spirituality; to a method of meditation, even to contemplation itself (or to what we think is contemplation.) We can become attached to virtues, to things that, in themselves, are marks of heroism and high sanctity. We religious men and women, called to be saints, can allow ourselves to be blinded by an inordinate love for such things and can remain just as much in darkness and error as those who seem far less perfect than we. Some of us can become gluttons for prayer and for silence and solitude. Silence can become an ultimate. When there is noise we become angry and rebel-lious. If we are required to set aside our solitude for the sake of charity, we fill the air with our complaints. This kind of solitude and silence is false, of course, a refuge for the individualist. Perhaps the deepest attachment of all, the one which keeps us in our valley of poverty the longest, is attachment to ourselves. On this we must keep a fingerhold; we just cannot let go. Self-respect, self-fulfillment, self-satisfaction--we have to look good in our own eyes and in the eyes of others. We worry.about failure because somehow we are not living up to the expectations we have set for our-selves. Only secondly do we consider the expectations of God. In our story the chief's daughter found that her lack aroused her husband's bounty. She knew her poverty primarily as a sweet thing. But covetous as we are, we contemplatives want our hands full. We must have something of our own which we can bestow on God; or at least hold out to him, thinking to win him over with our generosity. When Jesus Touches Us Sooner or later we begin to realize that this way of living does not work; we begin to see that relying on ourselves alone is doomed to failure. When Jesus touches us with his mystical graces, what happens? Our eyes are opened and we are Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 dissatisfied with everything. This overwhelming feeling of dissatisfaction could very well be Jesus' most precious gift of all. But it does not seem so to us~ We look within and discover the same faults and vices we have always been burdened with. Prayer has become almost unbearable. Spiritual things in general lose their familiarity and joy. Panic deepens. Life seems turned upside down and inside out. Above all this, the knowl-edge that we have failed the Lord, that we have dropped the standard, that the battle is being lost--this is our deepest sorrow. But although all seems lost, what we experience in reality is the finding of our true life in Jesus. Like our primitivegirl, we, too, begin to realize, at last, that only in Jesus will we find our ever present redemption from our dreaded poverty. Retreat masters, spiritual directors and confessors will do us the greatest favor if they direct their efforts toward instilling in us an abiding trust in the all-loving Providence of God and in the saving life of Jesus. They should help us to mistrust ourselves and to surrender ourselves into His hands. They should teach us to cling to him no matter how dark things seem to be, teach us to have faith in his love and in his forgiveness no matter what we think we have done; no matter how we think we have failed. Signs of Progress What are the signs by which spiritual directors may gauge for certain real progress in contemplatives? Some of the outward manifestations of an inward mystical encounter or of infused contemplation might be the following: We contemplatives might describe to directors an experience of a deep and painful knowledge of ourselves, for we begin to see ourselves as we truly are. We may say that all our illusions are b~ing shattered, especially our illusions of self-importance. We may tell them that all our cherished ambitions are unmasked for the first time, or that we feel our dignity has been overthrown. We will, perhaps, tell them that we are lost; that we are not sure any more if we are leading dedicated lives at all. We exper!ence a growing sense of insecurity. At the same time, strange as it may seem, we experience at~ acceptance of this state. As our native girl found when she op~ned her heart to everything her husband had to offer her, so we contemplatives begin to see everything in a different light. Our lives of austerity, our efforts at mortification will acquire a deeper significance. We understand that as God is our life, we must let nothing take the edge off our need for him. This is a new way of living out our hunger and thirst, our refusing to be satisfied. We are consenting to have no security and no other satisfaction but God; a God who is unseen and unfelt. So near is he and so awesome, that unless we say "Yes" to him all the time, and accept life as he gives it, we must return to our valley of poverty. The temptation to turn back can be overwhelming. But it is also true that we are given a powerful strength at this time, enabling us to persevere. All this, of course, is an effect of Jesus' lox;e for us. We remember, indeed we cannot for a The Needs of Contemplatives in Direction moment forget, that any enrichment in us is all his doing. Still, this is a time of great struggle and temptation. Perhaps the greatest temptation will be to abandon prayer or at least to try to escape, in some way, the grievous suffering of a deep emptiness and poverty within. This empty prayer, however, has tremendous importance. If we consent to wait humbly for the Lord, we will, all unknowingly, find that it is precisely in this arid waste that Jesus is touching us. At this juncture, the contemplative might tell the director of an experience of being literally undone and remade, for there are no half measures any longer. What is really happening is that our faith is being deepened all the time. A sure sign that we contemplatives have not made progress will be precisely the certainty that we have! Alternatively another certain sign of growth might be the gradual disappearance of a tendency to criticize and find fault. There appears instead, a more gentle outlook; a kinder and more compassionate approach, thanks be to God. Love: Human and Divine Love has been our theme all the way through. But now I would like to be a li'ttle more specific about love, I mean the place of both human and divine love in the contemplative life. I think we will all agree that human affection is probably the most sweeping emotion in us. So, from the outset, we need to keep these two loves, the human and the divine, in order, lest the human sweep us off the foundation of the divine. To feel attraction for another, of course, is not wrong. Yet, for some of us, it can and does become a .dangerous thing. We fear to admit our feelings and to accept them, for the very difficulty in doing so can pose a thousand problems for us. At the same time, we know that this is the only healthy approach. It means we are accepting our sexuality and womanliness. I wonder if any of us ever fully grasps what a block to God's transforming action lies in the refusal to face up to and integrate our sexuality, and live it out continently for the glory of God? The Carmelite, Sr. Ruth Burrows states: "Being sexual means basically that 1 am a half and. not a whole. I am incomplete as I am and I tend, unconsciously, always to seek my other half, even though consciously, ! have renounced my right to marry and have children and be made whole by another. But grace does not work fully in a half person, so I struggle to love purely though it be through a great deal of suffering, because Jesus has promised to fill my emptiness with himself and so take away the ache of loneliness. If I am to become whole it will be in him and I must live in the hope of becoming whole in him and in him alone." The greatest danger is that we will try to get rid of the pain. We will even deny that these desires and attractions exist because they do not fit our stereotypic image of "the holy nun for whom God is enough." When we deny these feelings, the temptation will be to seek compensation for what we have given up. Frustrated longing comes to the surface sooner or later. It shows itself in outward behavior 3tl / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 such as domination of others, maternalism (or paternalism), or a passive or child-ish dependence. Who hasn't encountered these types in religious life? There are the old maids or bachelors. They will avoid personal involvements of every kind. In the name of holy recollection, they "keep their hearts for God alone." They are afraid to make friends and so they play it safe. Then there are the frustrated wives and mothers--and we might add, frus-trated fathers. These have never faced up to the truth of their feelings and desires. So they live on compensations instead of on God. They use their friends selfishly, looking for gratification from them. They dominate.and control other lives for their own ends, thinking all the while that this is "holy freedom" and "human fulfillment." To get back to us women: a woman, by nature, is meant to be selfless, receptive, wholly intent on giving and loving, that others 'might become them-selves. But when we see so many religious women leave their institutes these days, giving up their vocation and going back to secular life, we're not judging them when we ask, "Could it be that they did not get the help they needed in this problem of love?" Perhaps they found no one to understand their problem. Was there anyone to whom they could have gone for guidance amid these conflicting feelings, desires and attractions? I think we all need to know that it's alright to feel attraction and affection for others, especially for those of the opposite sex. I think we need to hear again and again that the feeling of attraction is only one side of love; that it may lead to love but that it is not itself real love but only a feeling. And like any feeling, it will not last thus forever. In the meantime, the tension in which we are caught, between our desires for exclusive love and our commitment to universal love, needs some level-headed self-control. We need someone to encourage us tO effort, watchful-ness and patience, humility and trust in divine grace. The struggle will teach us to rely on a spiritual power higher than our own nature. There is no doubt that we will grow from this struggle, which with God's help will become creative. We will learn to grow up, to take total responsibility for our own lives, their choices and decisions. And we will allow no one and nothing to turn us away from the principles by which we wish to live. The ultimate answer is found only when Jesus is re'peatedly placed before us as the object of our whole desire, and when, by repeated redirection, we are gradually transformed into him. Viva Memoria Finally, there comes a time when the interior rending apart, the anxiety, the sense of terrible absence are no more. The mysteries of Jesus, previously seen as the imitation of Christ giving the external principles by'which we were guided, now become our own mysteries, and we live progressively the life of Jesus; we become literally living memories. All that happens to the "personal me" begins to give joyful insight into the knowledge of Jesus himself. ~ Our venerable foundress, Mother Mary Celeste, has something to tell us about The Needs of Contemplatives in Direction this mystical state of contemplation. In her prayer our Lord speaks to her in these words which she passes on to us: "My spouse, abandon your own free will, your willing and your not willing, and leave all to my Divine Providence and my disposal. Make yourself an echo of my Willing. And if I say to you in my good pleasure: 'A cross,' then in your willing, will the cross. And if I say: 'Humiliation and contempt,' then be my echo and say, 'contempt.' And if I say: 'Kiss me with the kiss of sweet union,' then give me the most sweet echo of love and kiss me. It is in this way that you have no other desire or will than the absolute movement of my Will. Thus while you live, I, too, live as if I alone were alive in your very being, a.nd not you yourself." As with the happy couple in our love story, so it is with us: There begins the passing of those intimate glances of complete spiritual understanding. We might say that our whole occupation is love, or that prayer is our life. Either statement would be equally true. Then there is an awareness of deep contentment. That doesn't mean that growth isn't possible. In fact, it has to happen. The surrender becomes deeper and deeper, letting God do everything, totally sure that he will do so. And so ours becomes a life of deeper and deeper trust. We might end this as we began by saying, once again in the words of Sister Ruth Burrows, "Holiness in the contemplative is not a greatness but a total acceptance of human lowliness and total surrender of it to God in trust." Desert--After Fire Twisted; tortured, Bare black This land. Seared, scarred, What remnants remain. Evening whispers, "All is lost." Night mantles dark Deeper than ever touched This fire-scorched earth before. This land will heal. Soft spring rain Will sift tl~rough ashes. Bring new life to seed Concealed beneath the crusted earth. The cross is fire too And bare its wood Which must be aflame Before the Paschal morning dawns To heal and renew. Sister Miriam John, R.G.S. Patterdell 1820 W. Northern Ave. Phoenix, AZ 85021 Indwelling Prayer: Centering in God, Self, Others David J. Hassel, S.J. This article~ is a chapter from a book, Radical Prayer, which Father Hassel hopes soon to publish. An earlier article, "The Feel of Apostolic Contemplation-in-Action," appeared in the issue of May, 198 I. Father continues to reside at Loyola University of Chicago; 6525 North Sheridan Rd.; Chicago, IL 60626. The most radical of all types of prayer may well be indwelling prayer, for its quiet power pulses the movements of all other types of prayer. Indeed, the praying person, carried along by the seeming passivity of indwelling prayer, drifts closer and closer to the inmost self where the~ majestic God waits to welcome him or her warmly. In the attempt to delineate this deepest prayer, the reader's familiarity with various forms of more active prayer will be used as contrasting background for recognizing and appreciating more passive prayer. Some of these more active types of prayer would be: 1) problematic prayer wherein one reviews personal problems with the Lord while expressing various needs arising from them (e.g., peace in a troubled mar-riage, a job sought in the midst of a depressed economy, success in collegiate studies, mental health for a troubled daughter, good weather for the tourist season); 2) insight prayer (meditation): seeing the spiritual meaning of, e.g., a gospel event, a striking sentence in a saint's biography, a friend's casual but penetrating remark, a shocking event witnessed by chance; 3) spaced vocalprayer in which one spaces out the words of a favorite vocal tThe comments of James F. Maguire, S.J., of Edmund Fortman, S.J., and of Mary Ann Hoope, B.V.M., were especially incisive in revising this article for publication. 36 Indwelling Prayer / 37 prayer like the Our Father in order to discover and to reflect upon the fuller meaning of each phrase; 4) gospel contemplative prayer: seeing, hearing, feeling the gospel event as it unfolds in one's imagination; introducing oneself imaginatively into the scene as a friend of the apostles, as a servant girl, as a sick shepherd; 5) petitionary prayer: asking for God's help, e.g., to bring this person back to church, to relieve this person's mental agony, to be able to handle this court case well; 6) liturgicalprayer: the community finding God together in the sacred event of Eucharist, baptism, marriage, anointing of sick, reconciliation of sinners, and so on; 7) affective prayer: wherein feelings of hope, love, fear, anger, and desire (for God, for various virtues for saving situations, for the saints and for friends) operate. These are, of course, not ~all the forms of more active prayer, but they serve to illustrate the meaning of the term more active prayer for our purposes here. Familiarity with these types of more active prayer will later enable one to recognize, by experiential contrast, more passive prayer, and, hence, indwelling ;prayer, the probable source of all types of more passive prayer. Consequently, our first task is not to define abstractly more active prayer against more passive prayer, but instead, to get the "feel" of each by contrasting their diverse types of presence to God, self, and the world. This demands that, in ~/second step, we explore the experience of "presence" and ~ote the paradoxes arising in the presence constitut-ing more passive prayer. Thirdly, we will investigate whether more active and more passive prayer cancel out or nourish each other. In a fourth step, we note how those entering into more passive types of prayer, often undergo the discouraging feeling of prayerlessness, a purifying experience which paradoxically leads into awareness of the indwelling prayer underlying the more passive forms of prayer. At this point, we are finally ready to enter the life-rhythms of indwelling prayer and to search out the ways of doing this trinitarian prayer at the center of our being. Here, too, it should become clear why trinitarian prayer could be the presence underlying all types of prayer. For it reveals death and resurrection at new depths in our being. But for the present let us begin to deal with the diverse presences of more active and more passive prayer. The Diverse Presences of More Active and More Passive Prayer To distinguish more active prayer from more passive prayer is not to abandon one for the other, not to put a premium on one over the other, nor to deny their need of each other. But it is to see how they promote each other and to note how more passive types of prayer are rooted in indwelling prayer. Here definitions can mean nothing if they do not touch our prayer experience, or if they are ambiguous enough to bag together all types of prayer indiscriminately. Therefore we must distinguish these different types of prayer by describing the diverse experiences in which they occur. Let us begin such a process by first trying to discover the root of 311 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 more active prayer. Seven types (among many) of more active prayer were mentioned earlier. Actually all types of more active prayer seem to burgeon out of a single root, a "stretching out to the Lord." What is this stretch? It may well be an attitude towards others which the average good person has. To illustrate this, answer the following questions, and notice what you discover within yourself: i) Why not sleep later than usual today?--Suppose you do inconvenience some people like those in the car pool, like the spouse waiting at the breakfast table, like the other workers in the ,office or at the assembly line, like the students in the classroom? 2) Why pay attention at breakfast to the kids'chatter and the spouse's com-plaints about the leaking roof when the morning paper would be so much more interesting? 3) Why get to work a little bit early in order to get the jump on things so that the day goes better for everyone? 'Why not let others worry about the day? 4) Why help out at this or that emergency when you've got your own job to get done, too? Why not tell them to do the best they can without you since you're busy? 5) Why break off a lively lunch conversation to answer a telephone call or to listen to Henry's usual request for a loan to tide him over the weekend? 6) Why use your midafternoon break for correcting Jenny's letter to the man-ager protesting his failure to put her in charge of the secretary pool? 7) Why correct the kids at the dinner table when it's so much eas'ier to let things go and pretend you didn't see or hear it? 8) When you're dead tired and comfortably waiting for the T.V. news to come on or when you are just starting to relax with a little hi-fi music, why agree to hear the spelling lesson or arbitrate the latest argument betw, een the ten year old and the eleven year oM? 9) Why end and start your day with prayer at the tioes you're most tired? And why go to early Mass on your golf or hairdresser's day and also on Sunday, the only times you can sleep in? In other words, why keep stretching, stretching, stretching through the day unless there is a person waiting at the end of the stretching~ unless there is the Christ or the Father or the Spirit? This refusal to protect yourself from others and from God is a mysterious attitude.'Could it pbssibly be the lure of your vocation, the strength of your friendship with Christ (and therefore with his people, your people)? Could this attitude even be the taproot of 'all the types of more active prayer in your life? Could it even be the basic source of your contentment with life underneath all its irritations, failures, missed opportunities, and dashed hopes? Of course, this "stretch" attitude underlying more active prayer is. buried within one's consciousness and so it can be discovered only through the type of question-ing just completed. Yet is there riot some single directing lure running like'a golden thread through the "stretch" of the day to gi~,e direction and meaning to one's life? Indwelling Prayer And does this thread not lead eventually to the attractive Christ who alone makes fitting sense out of one's life? How can a person stretch out to all the needy unless first God is stretching out to him or her? .Here active prayer is seen as presence to the world and its needs--a presence inspired by Christ's appealing call. It would seem, then, that we may have tapped the root of more active prayer and are now ready to find the source of more passive prayer. More. passive prayer is often defined as a resting in God or a quiet'alertness to God and to others. Thomas Green describes it as "floating freely in th~ sea of God," as allowing God to direct oneself wherever he wills.2 In common with more active prayer, it is a refusal to protect oneself, it is an availability to God and to others. This common element,,hints at a deeper experience underlying both more active and more passive prayer and uniting them. And yet these two types of. prayers are quite different .since more passive prayer is often like a sinking into one's inner depths to find God; while more active prayer is a stretching out to others and to God in others. Even when more passive prayer is awareness of a God-vibrancy in clouds, trees, animals, and people's faces, voices, gestures, it nevertheless is more a stirring in the depths of one's being than a reaching out to touch. Even when one becomes aware of God somehow speaking and acting through the other person, passive prayer is more an alertness within one's own being than the message in the other's'action. Indeed, more passive prayer is, for the most part, careful listening, long waiting, occasionally a soundless crying out to God in his seeming absence. At other times, it is. allowing the Spirit to pray in me to the Father without my having any control; it is letting Jesus invade me totally,in my powerlessness and then .experiencing the resultant clash of fear and gladness within me. , ~ As more passive prayer progresses in the person, it can distill into a simple presenting of the self to the Lord. It is merely a "wanting to be with God" which is often intensified by Eucharistic presence. It is a wordless, thoughtless, imageless facing to .God. It is almost pure presence at the deepest level of experience; while in the upper levels of experience one can be .simultaneously aware of pain in one's posture, of distracting thoughts and images, of feelings of fatigue or elation. But the latter appear negligible compared to the facing of God. Here the praying person is facir~g not only God but also the mystery of presence itself. Perhaps the feeling and meaning of presence hold the key to understanding more passive prayer~ The Experience of Presence: Its Paradoxes in More Passive Prayer What is the "feel" of presence for us? It can be the invigorating experience of knowing that one's father and mother are listening proudly during one's piano 2Thomas H. Green, S.J., When the Well Runs Dr), (Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1978), p. 150. Just as this book is ekcellent for its descriptions of more passive prayer, so his Opening to God (Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1977) describes well more active prayer and delineates simply and directly the basic principles of beginners' prayer. tll~ / Review for Relig!ous, Jan.-Feb., 1982 recital~ or watching eagerly from the basketball grandstands for one's next basket. It can also be the sense of depletion, of sinking heart, when one sees the "enemy" coming into the room, hostile and even malevolent, to observe one's expected failure. Presence can be a sustaining strength in the hospital room. No need for words or for the busy alleviating of pain, just the steady touch of being there. Presence is an enriching moment when the vast anonymity of the great airport terminal'is shattered by a familiar voice calling one's name. Sometimes "absence" can sharpen one's awareness of what presence is. One observes two people talking to each other but neither listening, each waiting impatiently for his or her turn to speak. Absence can be the "freeze" where two people working side-by-side in a bakery or in an office, condemn each other heartily and render the eight-hour day coldly miserable for each other. The politi-cal handshake can be an insult when the state's leader has shaken three hands while still talking to the first hand. Here absence hardly makes the heart grow fonder. Presence, at times, seems to grow without any effort on one's part. Old friends go to the concert together. As soon as the music begins, they~are rapt and seem-ingly totally oblivious to the other. But neither would consider for a moment going to the concert alone. Underneath the silent raptness, their friendship continues to grow quietly--a conclusion proven by a new depth of sharing as they return home amid slow, mulling conversation. Not rarely three friends hike the mountain trails for six to eight hours with only an occasional word and: an almost silent midday lunch. Yet the enjoyment of each other is intense and, underneath the quiet calm, intimacy grows. It would seem that the beauty of music and nature mysteriously sensitizes each person to the other instead of distracting each from the other. This sense of the other's person deepens over the years; familiarity does not always breed co.ntempt. The tight-knit family may have more than its share of private squabbles, but its members have a true sixth sense when one of them is in jeopardy or in deep joy and they quickly arrive to rescue or to rejoice. Such a family, over the years, develops a secret language of grimace, wink, smile and code-words which sum up a lifetime of shared sorrows and laughs; the person of each is uniquely appreciated. The lover of many years still feels a _leap of heart when the beloved comes into the room or when the lover hears the beloved's laugh from the far side of the party chatter. The lover's heart affirms the beloved's "simply being there"---apart from what he or she is saying or doing;just as the two concert-goers and the three hikers are doing more than enjoying music and nature. They find in the being of music and mountains a new way in which to resonate to each other's being, i.e., to grow in the intimacy of friendship. For what is intimacy if not this acquired ability to live deeply with each other, to resonate in each other's very being, in such a way that friends can, on occasion, say to each other: "It doesn't really matter much where we go or what we do so long as we are together." Such intimacy, expressed through quick knowing glance, light caress, exuberant play, and the clasp of hand, perdures and grows at the being-level in emergency rooms, during sweaty decision-times about job and fam- Indwelling Prayer ily, on the beach, at the "graduation ceremonies" of the retarded child, at the birthday parties, within the many hasty breakfasts and more leisurely suppers. From all this, could one say that "presence" is intimacy or mutual resonance at the level of being? If so, then this could reveal much about the dynamics between more active and more passive types of prayer. If presence would be deep awareness of the other's very being, then "the prayer of simple presence" to God could be the praying person's affirming of God's being and God's affirming of the praying person's being. In more passive prayer of simple presence, one becomes aware of Christ and of his interests because one now allows him to enter oneself and one's work at the level of one's very being or personhood? In more passive prayer, God becomes more real for the praying person because the latter lets God be more real, i.e., lets God be Being Itself. The praying person does this by refusing to box up God within her or his own ideas, theories, and expectations. Rather, this person allows God to act in him or her: by remaining passive, he or she gives God time to become more present to the self. Paradoxically, then, more passive prayer renders a person more fully present to God and to self than does more active prayer. Through more passive prayer, the person becomes literally a being-for-God. Indeed, the divine name, Yahweh, comes to mean not merely "I am who am" but also "I am the One who will be for you." Is it possible that at this juncture we have reached that basic attitude of prayer which underlies all other attitudes of prayer? Is this the most radical of all prayers? For this basic attitude is the very being of a person as a "being-for-God." At this point, a second paradox comes into view. In more passive prayer, because the praying person is more present to self and to God at the level of being, he or she can now meet others at their being-level, not just humans but also animals, plants, and even non-vital things like mountains, rivers, fire, and stars. For with the experience of God's tender regard for oneself as unique and undying comes the ability to appreciate others as having unique worth and destiny. It is no wonder, then, that through more passive prayer, the praying person paradoxically becomes more actively present to the whole wide world. Even distant horizons are expanded by the intimate depth at which beings resonate with each other. For this reason more passive prayer renders the praying person more active in works for the family, the neighborhood, the Church--and also more hopeful because more trusting of the Holy Spirit's activity in the self and in others. More passive prayer, in making the perso.n less trusting of his or her own activity apart from God, has enabled the person to become more bold for the Church by 3Karl Rahner speaks of this passivity when describing the conditions of transcendence. "[Transcen-dence] may not be understood as an active mastering of the knowledge of God by one's own power, and hence also as a mastery of God himself. By its very nature subjectivity is always a transcendence which listens, which does not control, which is overwhelmed by mystery and opened up by mystery . Transcendence exists only by opening itself beyond itself, and, to put it in biblical languag,e, it is in its origin and from the very beginning the experience of being known by God himself" (Foundations of Christian Faith [New York: Seabury, 1978], p. 58). 42 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 allowing God to enter the self and to power the latter's actions. This is where personal vanity becomes reduced and the confidence in self-sacrifice gets increased. Evidently, the more passively praying person is more consciously a "being-for- God" and more clearly sees God as "I am the One who will be for you." The Differences Challenge and Nourish Each Other At this point having described more active and more passive prayer for them-selves, we are now in position to etch out their differences and to discover why these two types of prayer are called "more active" and "more passive" rather than simply active and passive prayer. It would appear that more active prayer is more conceptual than its counterpart, that is, more concerned with ideas and insight. It is also more creatively imaginative as it deals with plans of action, options for decisions, visions for the future, ambitions for the present. Again, more active prayer is more consciously integrative around a central idea or insight: "As 1 see it, the one great value in life is . "or "The central theme in my prayer is . " It is more apt to try to control: "We could set up this system of priorities, then get that done immediately; then . " It is more energetic, that is, more work oriented, more prone to gathering achievements. Finally, it is more bodily, because action in the world is incarnated through the body. On the other hand, more passive prayer is more affective than conceptual, more conscious of feelings for the other and in the other; therefore; it is more value oriented than vision enthralled. It is also more receptive than creative in its use of the imagination; thus, art and nature speak out more clearly and enter more movingly into the person praying more passively. It is more integrative by person or spirit than by idea: "This person loves me and so 1 can take the hard knocks ahead," or "1 don't quite understand her plan, but I trust her and will do what she says," Indeed, more 'passive prayer is, strangely, more spontaneous than con-trolled; it is more disturbing, more surprising, more dangerous to a person's careful selfishness. One says more often: "This happening in prayer wa~ a rather unex-pected revelation for me; I'm not sure 1 like this turn of events." Again, in more passive prayer there is more waiting, more expectancy, more sharp listening: "Nothing seems to be happening for days, and then boom ."Finally, it is more soulful in its reflective sinking into the self to find God. It should be clearer now that one must name these two types of prayer more active and more passive lest we split the personality of prayer. For both types are active and both are passive but with different emphases. For example, both use concepts, imagination, and feelings; but more active prayer is more conceptual than affective and the reverse is true of passive prayer. More active prayer deals more often with the creative imagination and more passive prayer works more often with the receptive imagination; but both types of prayer, working' in one and the same imagination, use not only the creative but also the receptive function of the imagination. All this would seem to point to their radical unity, especially since in both types the praying person has the intent not to prote,ct and to comfort the self but rather Indwelling Prayer / 43 to be available to God and to his people. Indeed, it would appear that either type of prayer would go slack and die without the appropriate challenge of the other type: Without the "stretch" of more active prayer, more passive prayer could wallow deep in the self and even forget God, much more his people. Without the "reflective sinking into being" of more passive prayer, more active prayer can end up in such a welter of action that the "stretch" could one day shred into a thousand loose strands of frenetic, superficial activities having no center of being, no rever-ence for others, no undying future. But actually, both types of prayer can challenge and nourish the other. More active prayer is concerned with "putting it all together," with having the world make final sense, so that the world is somehow under control. More active prayer works that the praying person may "have it all together," may be totally integrated as a wholesome person, not fragmented or tormented, so that the praying person may control her or his destiny. On the other hand, more passive prayer forces the praying person to face the fact that he or she is a being totally dependent on God whom he or she must trust in the midst of personal fragmentation and of a world gone awry~ More active prayer wants the resurrection now and the beatific vision now just as they are promised in every love song; in all ~great poetry and drama, and in the apocalyptic literature of the Bible. In contrast, more passive prayer demands that the praying person wait and listen, become excruciatingly aware of shortcomings and sins within one's being or personhood, know his or her absolute powerlessness to do anything worthwhile apart from God, be content for now with much less than immediate resurrection and beatific vision. Neither prayer denies the truth of the other's intent; neither claims to have all the truth, but each challenges the other to greater realism about self, God, and the world. Each depends on the challenge of the other as more active prayer aims at total wholesomeness of self and world in God and as more passive prayer aims at enduring the fragmentation of self and dislocation of world until God heals them both~ There is, however, more than challenge between the two types of prayer. Each nourishesand promotes the other. The more active forms of prayer (e.g., the seven mentioned earlier) lead into the more passive forms of prayer, which in turn.root more deeply the ensuing more active forms of prayer. For example, meditative or mental prayer focuses the praying person's powers on particular objects such asan event of Christ's life, Mary's motherhood of the Church, the mystery of the Eucharist, God's plan for the individual or gr

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 40.6 of the Review for Religious, November/December 1981. ; Volume 40 Number 6 Nov./Dec., 198;I REvtEw I:OR REto~(;~OUS (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 Rt.'t.lcaous is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. © 1981 by REvtEw ~:OR REI.IGIOUS. 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. I:or subscription orders or change of address, wrile: REVIEW I-'OR REt.~(;~OUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55802. 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 Nov./Dec., 1981 Vo/ume 40 Number 6 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence wilh the editor should be sent to REVIEW FOR Rt:t.tG~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 Avenue at 54th St.; Philadelphia, PA 19131. Back issues and reprinls should be ordered from RI-:VIEW I-'OR RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. "Out of print" issues and articles n;~t published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. Development of a Constitution Mary Kevin Hollow, S.C.L. Sister Mary Kevin, Community Director of the Sisters of Charity of Leavenworth, details here the process of their community's work of revision of their Constitution, which was submitted to the Sacred Congregation for Religious in May, 1981. Sister resides in the motherhouse: Sisters of Charity of Leavenworth; Leavenworth; KS 66048. The Sisters of Charity of Leavenworth, a pontifical institute, originated in the Diocese of Nashville in 1851. The religious community was formed by a group of Sisters Of Charity of Nazareth at the request of Bishop Richard Pius Miles. In God's Providence, many of these same sisters, with the encourage-menLof Reverend Pierre-Jean DeSmet, S.J., accepted the invitation of Right Reverend Bishop Miege, S.J., to come to Leavenworth (Kansas) in the Indian Territory. When asked by the bishop what the requirements of the community would be, Mother Xavier Ross, the foundress, asked that the sisters be .allowed to carry out "to the letter the Rules and Constitutions of St. Vincent de Paul.''~ On November I I., 1858, five,professed sisters, two postulants and one orphan girl reached Leavenworth by steamer late in the evening. In that frontier city, the sisters soon opened an academy (1860), an orphanage (I 863) and a hospital (1864).Christian education of youth, care of the sick, the poor and,orphaned continue to be the "works" of the sisters to this day. As new members joined the original small band, the Sisters of Charity of Leaven-worth set out from the Mother House for dioceses in California, Colorado, "Illinois, Missouri, Montana, Nebraska, New Mexico, Oklahoma, Wyoming and 'to Peru and Bolivia. Some 1700 women have joined the community since 1858; the community now numbers over 600. Rule From the beginning, the sisters intended to pattern their lives after the manner and ,thought of the Apostle of Charity, St. Vincent de Paul. An 111~2 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1981 undated note in Mother Xavier's handwriting says that she petitioned Pope Plus IX "to approve and sanction our practicing the Rules and Constitutions of St. Vincent de Paul (for the Daughters of Charity in France under the title of 'Sisters of Charity').''2 After the usual procedures, the congregation received definitive papal appr.obation in 1922. In 1958 and 1963, some modifi-cations of the Constitution, approved by Chapter Enactments, were submitted to Rome, but the Constitution.remained substantially the same. After Vatican II The Church summoned religious throughout the world to "renew and adapt." Communities were given permission, by way of experimentation, to alter temporarily certain prescriptions of their constitutions, provided that the nature, purpose and character of the institutes were safeguarded. Religious began the study of the documents of Vatican II, especially the decree Perfectae caritatis and the constitution Li~men gentium (chapters 5 and 6 especially), the motu proprio Ecclesiae sanctae and, later, the exhortation Evangelica testificatio. The Sisters of Charity of Leavenworth, women of the Church, cooperated with the new direction set by the Church. The Mother General and her council involved all the sisters in a community develo.pment of a set of schemata devoted to the major facets of the religious life as this pertains to our congregation,s Research of primary sources in the community archives and other centers draws attention to the importance of understanding our original spirit.4 Sis-ters were asked to articulate responses to the question, "Who are we as Sisters ~ Histoo' of the Sisters of Charity of Leavenworth. Kansas. 1898. p. 45. 2Addenda Regarding the Code of Life for Religious. Special Commission on the Constitution and Customs, SCL Community Studies. 1967-68. JSisters of Charity of Leavenworth, Community Study 1967-1968: "The Sisters in the Church," "Life of the Counsels," "The Apostolate." "The Person in Community," "Government." "Spiritu-ality," and "Community." 4Our Vincentian Heritage: a study based on archival materials immediately connected with Mother Xavier Ross and on an analysis of the Letters of St. Vincent de Paul. Study of the Spirit of the Community. as shown in circular letters of the major superiors prior to 1950. The Spirituality of Mother Mao' Berchmans Carman, S. C. L. by Sister Rose Dominic Gabisch, S.C.L. Instructions to the Sisters of Charity of Leavenworth, given at the Mother House by Mother Xavier Ross. Archival material at the Mother House: several notebooks, written in Mother Xavier Ross's almost illegible handwriting, and a typed copy of the contents by Mother Leo Frances Ryan. S.C.L. and Sister Rose Dominic Gabisch. S.C.L. Comparative Study of the Constitutions, from the "Old Rule" through the Constitutions of 1915. 1922. 1958 and 1963. Parallels, a study of scriptural and theological foundations for the religious life following our present 1963 Constitutions. Development of a Constitution / 1103 of Charity of Leavenworth in the Church in the world?''s Special Chapter The Special General Chapter (1968-69) was the community's direct and formal response to Pope Paul Vl's mandate in Ecclesiae sanctae to implement the conciliar decrees. This Special Chapter, like Vatican Council I1, had for its program of action aggiornamento: "a stimulias to preserve the perennial vital-ity of the Church, its continual awareness and ability of studying the signs of the times, and its constantly youthful agility in 'thinking before an~,thing is done and holding on to what is good.'''6 The resultant interim documents, A Life of Charity and Living in Charity,7 represent "the results of the serious attempts of the community to respond to the challenge of th~ times and to the current needs of the Church.''8 The first book embodied the key themes and principles enunciated by the Special Chapter. The second .book showed how these principles and themes were to be carried out. Its revised edition9 was derived from the directives of the Eleventh General Chapter of the congregation (1973-74). 1974-19110 Elected in July, 1974, the Community Director and her Community Council, as the congregation's major superior and council are now known, were aware that the Fathers of the Second Vatican Council had said that the "prudent experiments" begun during the Special Renewal Chapters could be continued until the next ordinary general chapter. That ordinary chapter would be empowered to grant a further prolongation of prudent experimenta-tion, but not beyond the date of the subsequent chapter. The Community Director and Community Council knew that religious communities were expected to be working toward the text of their revised constitution for pres-entation for approval to the Sacred Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes. This meant, for the Sisters of Charity of Leavenworth, that the Twelfth Community Chapter of 1980 would be the second ordinary chapter beyond its "Renewal Chapter" of 1968-69. The Community Director and ~he Community Council, during their 5Statements on Nature and Purpos~ of the Sisters of Charit'y of Leavenworth by Members of the Community, "Resource for Schema on the Code of Life for Religious, a Self-Study." 6Ecclesiam Suam, n. 50. 7See A Life of Charity and Living in Charity, Directives of the Special Chapter of the Sisters of Charity of Leavenworth. 1968-69. 8Mother Leo Frances Ryan, S.C.L., ~'Circular Letter to the Community," Feast of the Resurrec-tion, 1970. 9See Living in Charity, Revised Edition. Directives of the Eleventh General Chapter of the Sisters of Charity of Leavenworth, 1973-74. I~Ol~ / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1981 annual planning days, came to key decisions: the community needed a clear statement of its mission in the Church in today's world, an "'agreed upon" articulation of its charism, and a definite expression of the community's manner of observing the three evangelical counsels of poverty, chastity and obedience. The director and council thought it time to mind Mother Xavier Ross's words: "It is wisdom to pause, to look back and see by what straight or twisting ways we have arrived at the place we find ourselves." Serious ques-tions needed probing. How deep is our spiritual renewal? Which of the "pru-dent experiments" produced the "good fruit"?. The sisters of the congregation needed to reflect prayerfully about these questions and to share their thoughts about their renewal experience with each other. The council sought a comprehensive plan that would involve all of the sisters, as well as each of the "standing committees" of the community--the Sisters' Forum, the Personnel Board, and the Spirituality Commission. The goal of this community involvement was to move soundly toward a written description of our basic identity and mission. If a set of obligations and responsibilities commensurate with that identity and mission could then be enunciated, a new Constitution would finally be developed. Strategy for Community Participation That comprehensive plan and its implementation are detailed in the fol-lowing pages covering the period 1978-1980. Special liturgical celebrations initiated all of the community occasions from the opening SCL Community Reflection on Ministry/Mission at the Sisters'Forum (March, 1978) to the concluding session of the Twelfth General Chapter (November, 1980). Too, the Spirituality Commission called all the sisters to a Year of Prayer and Penance for the 1980 chapter in June, 1979. Constitution Consultors The Constitution Consultors were a key group of sisters in the activities related to the development of the Constitution. These sisters, selected by the Community Director with the consent of the Community Council, were to be a resource group designed to facilitate the work of the community and, at the appropriate time, the work of the Community Chapter in its proper role of determining the final text of the Constitution. Each consultor was selected because of her special familiarity with the history of the community and its charism, her background in theology and Scripture, her ability to listen/facilitate, her ability to write clear English, her knowledge about psychological/human development or her experiential background in current social, trends~ All were Sisters of Charity of Leaven-worth for at least ten years. They were responsible to engage in a study aimed at acquiring expertise in the development of "the new law and the new consti-tutions," and then provide further service to the community for assimilating Development of a Constitution / 1105 "the new law and the new constitutions" for our times. A videotaped presenta-tion was succes.sfully, used in our communities throughout the country and in South America. The assistance of the Constitution Consultors proved invalu-able as the community moved through the various phases of developing the constitution. Reflection on Ministry/Mission The Community Director' presented the first formal introduction for what was to be a Reflection on Mission to the members of the Sisters' Forum on February ! i, 1978. Sister then set forth the time frame for the various activi-ties. The essential mission/ministry questions were addressed, and a bibliog-raphy distributed. Regional, local and area reflections were next in order. Personnel Board representatives scheduled meetings for sisters involved in each of the major "works" of the community. A common paper entitled "Mission and Ministry in John's Gospel and in Religious Life" was delivered at each such apostolate session. The Constitution Consultors circulated their tentative draft of the mission statement that incorporated, input from all these events. The sisters were invited to send responses and suggestions to the consuitors who revised their statement in light of these replies. They presented this revised Statement of the SCL Mission to the delegates of the chapter, and to its Commission on Mission/Ministry in particular. The commission further revised the state-ment, and the chapter approved this final form of the mission statement. It is in the new Constitution. This entire sequence of events surrounding the articulation of the mission statement was very valuable to the community and to the cohesiveness of the chapter in its work of development. Reflection on SCL Charism A workshop in the summer of 1979 prepared designated sisters to be group leaders for the charism reflection that was to take place throughout the com-munity. Sister Dominique Long, S.C.L., assisted by Sister Janice Futrell, O.S.B., from the Ministry Training Service in Denver, met with these sisters for an intense prep~aratiori. The sisters then successfully conducted "charism sessions" throughout the community. Again, the Constitution Consultors wrote a letter to the community explaining that they had reviewed the statements that resulted from these local meetings and extracted the key concepts common to most of the statements. They asked the sisters for a further response as the next step in the charism study. The conclusion was that the charism of the Sisters of Charity of Leaven-worth was already adequately expressed in the interim documents, and that the community seemed to favor threading the expression of our charism through those documents rather than attempting to formulate a specific 111)6 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1981 statement of charism. This information was made available to the chapter delegates. Study of the Vows In a circular letter reviewing community participation in the various phases of the Chapter Preparation, the Community Director next announced workshops on the vows at various regional centers. The Spirituality Commis-sion wrote all the sisters outlining the various materials available for the study of the vows. They enclosed a booklet, Focus on Vows, an annotated bibliog-raphy on the vows, and an article, "How to Live the Vows Today," by J.M.R. Tillard, O.P., together with some suggestions for a special celebration of the feast of Vincent de Paul. Ma'terial from the area reflections were sent by the Spirituality Commission to the Constitution Consultors for analysis. The material in summary form was then given to the Commission on Formation/ Spirituality of the Twelfth Community Chapter. Study of Interim Documents Next, the Constitution Consultors guided the community through an in-depth study of the interim documents, Life of Charity and Living in Charity. They offered a formal procedure by which each sister would prayerfully con-sider her personal experience of renewal in light of the interim documents" expression of the Gospel, the spirit of Mother Xavier "Ross, and the commun-ity response to the signs of the times. Several hours were required to finish the study (many sisters using more than one session of two hours). For example, they examined each page, section or norm in the document to evaluate its degree of importance in their lives. The over-all response was heartening. The vast majority of sisters returned a completed survey. The Constitution Con-sultors' analyses of the various sections of these responses were of invaluable assistance to the chapter delegates and to each commission of the chapter. The exercise not only renewed an appreciation of the community documents, it proved helpful to the writers of the Constitution as well. Proximate Preparation for Chapter The election of chapter delegates was scheduled early enough for all dele-gates to be available for a chapter-preparation workshop in December, 1979. The delegates established commissions (Spirituality]Formation, Mission/ Ministry, Community/Government and expressed their preference for joining one or the other. A panel of Constitution Consultors briefed the delegates on the work of the consultation, and distributed materials to each commission. At the preliminary meetings each commission explored what was to be the scope of its work, the manner of drafting proposals, and the function of the Chapter Central Committee. David Fleming, S.M., and Sister Mary Kevin Ford, C.S.J., spoke to the delegates on the chapter as an ecclesial/community event. The Personnel Board, a group of sisters representing each of the commu- Development of a Constitution nity's apostolates and ministries, drafted a pre-chapter questionnaire. The questionnaire surveyed each sister's thinking about community living, govern-ment, spirituality, formation, the vows, and apostolic service. Some questions required the sister to assess the entire decade of renewal. This survey, com-pleted by about 550 of the community's 630 sisters, enabled the respondent to .express her thoughts anonymously. Each sister sent the completed question-naire directly to Liguori Publications, a Missouri Religious Life Service Department, where the responses were tabulated by computer and the ques-tionnaires destroyed. Printouts in the categories of chronological age, time since first vows, and apostola.te were sent to each community. Data revealing the sisters' assessment of the renewal years came from answers to questions such as: "Which best expresses your opinion on the changes in our religious life? . When I reflect on my own personal experience of the decade of renew-al, 1 think that of all the areas of my life, the most positively affected aspect was: community living, ministry/apostolate, spirituality (prayer, liturgy, etc.), way of governance, observation of the vows." These computerized evaluation reports were sent to the chapter delegates. In February, 1979, the sisters received copies of the format for submitting proposals for the 1980 chapter with a "flow chart" that depicted the route of the proposal from the sender to the chapter delegates. A second and third mailing drew attention again to the procedure by which any sister or group of sisters could make a proposal for the delegates to consider in chapter. By the deadline (May !, 1980), 113 proposals had been forwardi:d to the respective commission chairperson. The Community/Government Commission received 45 proposals, the Spirituality/Formation, 35, and Mission/Ministry, 33. The Chapter Analysis of the Period of Renewal The Church, as early as 1950, encouraged religious to adapt themselves to the changing times, and to join the new and old in harmonious union. Our community response to that mandate touched every aspect of our religious life--our way of living, praying, working and governance. The varying ways of measuring the impact on our community of over a decade of intensive renewal and adaptation had been alluded to in, several of the previous sec-tions. It remained for each commission to bring together all of the informa-tion from the various community chapter-preparation activities, to sift it all carefully, and to present the commission's own assessment to the chapter. This was done early in the chapter sessions. Development of Proposals Six months after the delegates' pre-chapter workshop, all chapter commis-sions had to have the first draft of their proposals in the hands of all the delegates (May, 1980). All proposal's [rom the various community groups and individual sisters had, of course, been received earlier. At this time, the chair- III)11 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1981 persons of the three commissions, who themselves formed part of the Central Committee, estimated the number of proposals their respective commission would actually present to the assembly. From this information, the Central Committee drafted a tentative agenda which the delegates approved for the assembly sessions. The work of the chapter now entered a crucial phase, as the proposals were being honed for chapter action. In all, thirty of the proposals of the Spiritu-ality/ Formation Commission were enacted by the chapter, about half of these relating to vows and spirituality, the other half to formation. The Mission/ Ministry Commission's ten proposals were favorably acted upon by the dele-gates. And the chapter delegates passed twenty-nine proposals of the Com-mission on Community]Government, all but seven of them relating to governance. The chapter then recessed so that the Writing Committee, selected from among the Constitution Consultors, could commence its work. First Draft This committee set about the task of writing a draft of the Constitution which was to be presented to the chapter delegates for approval. The content of the draft was, of course, the material already approved by the Community Chapter. At the same time, the Writing Committee attempted to preserve the literary form of the interim documents. In general, they followed the principle that doctrinal, theological, inspirational and juridical.elements should be blended throughout the Constitution. The writers asked that each delegate and each sister read the circulated first draft, using for their criteria in reading clarity, simplicity, accuracy, brevity of language, and the conformity of the text with the enactments of the Community Chapter and the general law of the Church. The writers also had sent the draft to Father Thomas Clarke, S.J., and Father~ Francis Morrisey, O.M.I., for a critical reading of the text from a theological and canonical perspective respectively. Revised Draft After considering the recommendations of the chapter delegates, the other sisters in the community, and those of Father David O'Connor, a canonist (Father Morrisey had not returned from Rome in time to read the material), the Writing Committee prepared a revised draft of the Constitution. A copy of this revised draft was then sent to each local house. Each delegate also received a copy to study prior to the chapter meeting. In a covering letter, the writers explained that they had eliminated or revised some articles. In some instances, an article was removed because it merely repeated a canon that need not be repeated. In other instances, the writers acted on the advice to state only the substance of the chapter action in the Constitution, putting the other details into a book of chapter enactments. They explained that this would not change the nature of the chapter action, Development of a Constitution / 809 nor diminish the importance of its implementation. In any event, the letter stated, the delegates would meet to review and approve or not approve these decisions of the committee. Final Draft The Twelfth Community Chapter of the Sisters of Charity of Leavenworth met for its final session to receive the report of the Constitution Consultors. The Constitution Consultors reported the changes incorporated by the writers by reason of the critique of the first draft made by the delegates themselves, as well as by the other sisters and experts consulted. Book I of the first draft, for example, had bee~n re-written in the first person. Sisters who had reviewed the earlier draft of the book, written in the second person, objected to this change. Delegates were asked to make additional editorial changes, reflecting the latest revisions, to conform with style and content suggestions. The president of the Chapter asked the delegates to consider both Book I and Book I1, section by section. Following this, the chairperson of the Consti-tution Consult'ors, herself a delegate to the Chapter, moved the acceptance of the Constitution as circulatetl, presented, discussed and amended by the Twelfth Community Chapter. The motion passed unanimously. The last action of the Chapter was to mandate that the Community Director and the Chairperson of the Constitution Consultors personally take the Constitution to Rome for presentation. And there the matter rests, a task completed and a future begun. 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 Let All God's Glory Through Donald Macdonald, S.M.M. Father Macdonald, whose last article, "To Experience God," appeared in the issue of March, 1981. has returned to England for a period of study. His present address is: Montfort Mission-aries: 18 Donaldson Rd.; London NW6 6N6; England. ~ remember once chatting with a young couple engaged to be married. When it was suggested that we have a cup of tea, the girl got up to put on the kettle. Seconds after she moved, the young man stood up, vaulted the settee on which he had been sitting, crossed the floor of the room and held the door open for the girl. Because possibly few religious have ever felt that way about anyone, or have ever received such attention in their adult lives, many find it hard to believe that this is the way God feels about them: "the Son of God. loved me and gave himself for me" (Ga 2:20) or, as a later age put it, "we are his [Jesus'] bliss, in us he delights without end."l Lacking such experience, our faith finds it hard to "take off." Nowhere, I think, is this more evident than in our attitude to our Lady. Many of us religious find it hard to credit that she is so loved by God, and, therefore, such a marvelously attractive person in her own right. We then tend to subject her to the slow death of a thousand qualifications. We are ill at ease with her, not because of anything she has done to us, but because we never' quite know how to "place" her. Our first introduction to her was, for many of us, in the company of our parents when we were children. They saw to it that we met someone they knew well on good days and bad. We entered religious congregations, only to find that our founders, too, shared a common devotion to her. The present Ho!y Father is evidently devoted to her, and this is seen by. more than the letter M on his coat-of-arms? Our Lady is part of the wider air ~Julian of Norwich. Revelations of Divine Love. Ch. 23, N.Y. 1977. 810 Let All God's Glory Through / 811 we breathe as Catholics. But, when we try to be more specific, we are uneasy. Have her anywhere near the center, and she seems to usurp the role of the Holy Spirit. This, of course, could never be acceptable--not least at the present time. Yet is she on the periphery of our relationship with God? It might be worthwhile looking again at Mary in the light of the Church and the Gospel. The Church has reminded us of the "various attitudes that bind her to Mary.: profound veneration., burning love., trusting invocation. loving service., zealous imitation., profound wonder., attentive study.''3 Clearly these are sparks from a fire, not a catalogue from a library. What of the person who so attracts, and who .forges such links? For the Church to speak of anyone like that could only be because the Chu.rch is in love with her. We are the Church. Do these words speak for us? Is that how we see her? Mary is part of the Church. To what extent is she part of us? Full of Grace St. Luke's two-volume work, Gospel and Acts, is particularly strong on personality and persons, including some of the most loved in the Christian world. Our Lady is among them. The account of the birth of Christ in which she first appears is written in a deliberately "old-world" style, in part, that is characteristic of the Old Testament. Yet it is light and beautiful and inspiring. As literature it is superb. What if its content is true? God is coming on earth. No wonder the account is alive with puzzlement, astonishment and joy. Who could find words to convey adequately such a message? Yet Luke, in pausing to introduce his gospel, leaves us in no doubt that "having followed all things closely for some time past" he has been careful to check "that you may know the truth" (Lk 1:3-4). His head is not being ruled by his heart. The old order, he writes, is changing. A son is to be born to an old man Zachary and his wife Elizabeth. This is "good news., joy and gladness. many will rejoice at his birth . . . to make ready for the Lord a people prepared"(Lk l: 13, 14, 17, 19). Expectancy, possibility and fulfillment almost beyond imagining is the good news from God--and this only in regard to the birth of the future John the Baptist. It is against this background that we first meet our Lady. She is greeted in a way familiar from the Old Testament: "Hail O favored one, the Lord is with you"(Lk i:28). As Luke uses these words they imply that Mary has been loved and graced by God for a long time. Now, ~is it were, God's love reaches such a 2"'If 1 may be permitted to speak here of my own experience, I will say., that in writing to you I am referring especially to my own personal experience . [A]t the beginning of my ministry I entrust all of you to the Mother of Christ. entrust., your priesthood to her in a special way. Allow me to do it myself, entrusting to the Mother of Christ each one of you" (John Paul Letter to Priests, 419179). 3Paul VI, Marialis Cultus, n. 22 (CTS. 1974). 1112 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1981 pitch that it comes cascading into her life. God wants her to do something for him as an expression of his love for her and for all people. Here is "good news of a great joy which will come to all the people" (Lk 2:!0). Clearly, if God wishes Mary to do something for him, he must give her the means to do it. This is why she is addressed as "Hail, O favored one, the Lord is with you." In the light of the Old T~stament, the greeting recalls the time when Gideon, the farmer's son, was approached by God with the greeting: ."the Lord is with you, valiant warrior!" (Jg 6:12). Understandably he protests that there must be some mistake. He is a farmer not a fighter, and could not possibly undertake the role of freedom-fighter, leader of the people. But God promises to be with him. Gideon therefore has a new identity: "valiant war-rior." He was a farmer. He is a fighter. The power of God will see to this. So when Mary is addressed "Hail, O favored one, the Lord is with you," she, too, is given an identity and a role. This is not empty compliment. It is a statement of who she is as she allows God's love full scope in her life. Her personality becomes fully alive as an expression of God's will. As love from a friend can deepen and enrich life so too with God and our Lady. Such is the love given and received that Mary is to give birth to a son, and "the child to be born will be called holy, the son of God"(Lk 1:35). The word holy attempts to say who God is. Holiness is the "is-ness" of God: "Whatever it is you are wanting to say about God you will find it all summed up and contained in this little word is. Mention every one of [the attributes of God] and you have said nothing extra; say nothing at all and you do not diminish him.TM Who God is, as the Old Testament understands it, is summed up in the word holy. God is then holy, essentially other, quite beyond our categories of understandii~g. To come into contact with God in any way one has to become holy, become like God as far as this can be: "Come no nearer, ~take off your shoes. This is holy ground" (Ex 3:5). God's presence on Sinai and later in the Jerusalem Temple made these places charged with the holiness of God himself (See Ex 19:12; Is 6:1-7). Invitation, purification, awe and worship are required before anyone dare venture near the presence of God. To understand, then, what St. Luke is saying of our Lady, one needs some such feeling for the word holy. So intimately present is God to her that the child to'be born of her "will be called holy, the Son of God." Only then can we see the genesis of the "profound veneration . . . profound wonder" in the Church's contemplation of our Lady. Open to the Spirit Like Gideon and Zachary, Mary, too, is greatly troubled: "How can this be since I know not man?" (Lk 1:34). The answer is so familiar: "The Holy 4"The Epistle of Privy Counsel," Ch. 4, in the Cloud of Unknowing and Other l~orks (Penguin Books, 1978). Let All God's Glory Through / 1113 Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you" (Lk 1:35). Again a wonderful world opens up, illuminating further the person and role of Mary. To describe the Spirit coming upon her, Luke uses the same verb he will later use to describe the Spirit of God coming upon and calling into life the early Church at Pentecost (see Acts !:8). Her receptivity to God's loving creative spirit, allowing his will free rein in her regard, opens up again the possibility that the face of the earth will be renewed. The wider background is perhaps not without echoes of the opening of Genesis. There, the Spirit of God hovered like a bird over .the formless void. The presence of God's creative spirit produced a universe of pattern, purpose and mystery. "The darkness over the deep" (Gen: 1:2) was no more. With the coming of the Spirit upon our Lady so powerfully and joyfully, there, too, issues a new creation (see 2 Co 5:17). Mankind will never be the same again in its intimacy with God. The universe is now to be illumined by a new divine light (see Lk 2:32). While the main emphasis is self-ex;idently on the child to be born, inevitably this reflects on the person of our Lady. It seems scarcely credible that God could use her merely as a passive, if willing, tool. The birth of a child to a woman is an aberration if it is not wholly personal. God's loving, creative Spirit is not programming a computer. Genuine love heightens personality. Light Wherewith to See "How beautiful on the mountains are the feet of one who brings good news, who heralds peace, proclaims salvation, brings happiness" (ls 52:7). If this is true of the message and the messenger, what of its transforming effect on the0one for whom it is meant? "My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior" (Lk 1:46-47). The overshadowing of Mary'by the Spirit of God, invited to love .her without any reserve--"l :am the handmaid of the Lord, let it be to me according to ~,our word" (Lk 1:38)--is not the offering of something but, insofar as a creature can receive, rather the loving, personal gift of God's presence. God's love has been poured into her heart through the Holy Spirit which has been given her (see Rm 5:5). Here, above a:ll, we see "Give and it will be given to you; good measure, pressed .down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap" (Lk 6:38). "For the spirit reaches the depths of everything, even the depths of God" ('! Co 2:i0). The core of the sun or the accumulated energy of the greatest stars is but created-- though unimaginably great to us. How begin to plumb the depths of God-- the uncreated one? We do not have the capacity. Yet, such is our faith, that through the giftof God "now we have received., the Spirit .that comes from God, to teach us to understand the gifts that he has given us" ( ! Co 2:12).5 Cot ad cot loquitur. If this is true of Paul, of his people, and of us, what of our Lady? The depths of her being were touched by the depths of God. As Augus-tine said of the spoken word, it can go from his heart and be possessed by his 1114 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1981 hearers, yet never leave him. So when the Spirit overshadows our Lady she becomes God's temple, and God's Spirit is particularly with her (see I Co 3:16). God is ever with her. She is always with God. She thus glorifies God in her body (! Co 6:20). The result of such experience must be illumination, albeit lived in faith. For the God who said "let light shine out of darkness" has shone in her heart to radiate the light of the knowledge of God's glory, the glory on the face of Christ (see 2 Co 4:6). The Spirit's gift to her of a son--and such a son--is as the creation of light in the life of Mary. Her whole personality, body and spirit, would reflect her son. Thus, in time, she would be turned into the image of Christ which she reflected. She is the Mother of God. This, of course, is the work of the Lord who is Spirit (see 2 Co 3:17-18). Her eyesight would not see, but her insight (faith) would assimilate life lived in the light of her son. The effect on others of her spirit-filled personality taught her much (see Lk 1:42-43, 45; 2:19). So power-ful a presence has she with her child in her arms that she ~would enter the Temple with him and the place would never be the same again. In her son she brings "a light of revelation to the Gentiles and . . . glory to . . . Israel" (Lk 2:32). So said an old man, Simeon, "and the Holy Spirit was upon him" (Lk 2:25). So he too could "see." "Inspired by the Spirit he came into the temple'" (Lk 2:27) and with our Lady's child in his arms, could say from his heart that now he could die in peace "for my eyes have seen., salvation., a light. glory . . ." (Lk 2:29-32). This is the work of the Spirit. She visits her cousin Elizabeth, and again, such is the effect of her presence that at the very sound of her voice greeting her cousin "the babe leaped in her womb, and Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit" (Lk 1:42). She radiates the Spirit from a personality at one with the will of God. Her being was attuned to the will of God as no creature's has ever been. She is a reflective person who "kept all these things in her heart" (Lk 2:51)--a heart ever open to the illuminating Spirit of God. In a sacramental world, she above all would see God in Christ. It is the "pure of heart" who see God (see Mt 5:8). Open to Her Spirit This realization of the presence of the Spirit in our Lady can help us see why the Church is so attracted to her. One would like to think that today few would confuse insight and perception with formal education. They are not ~"His [the Holy Spirit's] approach is. to enlighten the mind, first of the man who receives him, then, through him, the minds of others also . As a man previously in darkness suddenly seeing the sun receives his sight and sees clearly what he did not see before, so the man deemed worthy of the Holy Spirit is enlighteng,d in soul and sees beyond the power of human sight what he did not know before" (Cyril of Jerusalem: To Catechumens, 16. See Office of Readings: Eastertide, Week 7, Monday). Let All God's Glory Through necessarily linked. Some things in life are never understood until they are loved. The biblical tradition and centuries of the Church would seem to corroborate this as far as understanding anything of God is concerned. "He may well be loved but not thought. By love he can be caught and held, but by thinking never.''6 This is not a fundamentalist anti-intellectual polemic. Faith, love and worship alone know who God is. Kathleen Raine's illuminating comment in another context can perhaps summarize this: "To those who rule out life, an acorn is a poor kind of pebble. The difference is not of degree but of kind.''7 To view any Christian, especially our Lady, without at the same time allowing for the mysteriously lavish action of the Holy Spirit, is indeed to view the acorn as a poor kind of pebble. Religious, therefore, wishing to live wholly for her son in the Spirit would do well to open themselves to whatever love and influence our Lady can bring to bear on them. Time in the company of our Lady is time in the presence of God. Our faith is incarnational, and she is one of the loveliest expressions of the love of God. There are no steps to the guru here. She is so approachable, so uncomplicated. Moses' contact with the holiness of God was such that tradition says his face had to be veiled, as people feared the light reflected there. Not so our Lady. Nondescript shepherds can approach her child and wonder. An old man can take her child from her arms. Her cousin Elizabeth saw her come to her own home, and how pleased she was to see her. Our Lady centers the delight and welcome where they properly belong: "He who is mighty has done great things for me"(Lk 1:49). It remains true that our Lady is blessed among women, and blessed, too, is the fruit of her womb. She is the mother of our Lord, blessed because she believed. "He (Jesus) wills that it be known that all those who delight in him should delight in her, and in the delight he takes in her and she in him.''s Generations in the Church have known and done just that. ~The Cloud of Unknowing, Ch. 6 (Penguin Books, 1975). 7Defending Ancient Springs (Oxford University Press, 1967). 8Julian of Norwich. Revelations of Divine Love, Ch. 25, N.Y. 1977. The Rite of Religious Profession and the Ignatian Tradition Gerald K O'Connor, S.J. Father O'Connor teaches at St. Joseph's Preparatory School and resides at the Ferdinand Farmer Residence; 4520 Chester Ave.; Philadelphia. PA 19143. Many religious communities, especially those following the tradition of the Society of Jesus, have traditionally pronounced their vows before the Sacra-ment at the communion of the Mass of Profession. The new Rite of Religious Profession (RRP), in #15 of its Praenotandao advises that this tradition of professio super hostiam be dropped in favor of profession following the hom-ily of the Mass as a response to the Word of God. A.number of communities have already elected to follow the Roman directive, substituting the ceremony in RRPfor their original lgnatian practice. I believe, though, that it is possible to abide by the directives of RRP while still retaining the core of the Ignatian tradition. In an article which appeared in the Archivum Historicum Sbcietatis lesu in 1940,t I.A. Zeiger discussed the possible origins of profession before the Sacrament in the Society of Jesus. Zeiger's conclusion was that the early Jesuits had borrowed a long-standing medieval tradition of solemnizing an oath through, a ritual "ordeal." The person swearing the oath or vow placed his hand on some sacred object to show the seriousness of his oath and to invoke God as a witness to the truth and honesty of what he was swearing. The "ordeal" of such a ritual obviously lay in the understanding of all parties that a false oath or vow would be punished by the deity represented by the ~I.A. Zeiger. "Pr0fessio Super Hostiam: Ursprung und Sinngehalt der Professform in der Gesell-schaft- Jesu." Archivum Historicum Societatis lesu, vol. 9. pp. 172-188. 816 Rite of Religious Profession and Ignatian Tradition / 1117 sacred object. The Blessed Sacrament was the most sacred thing upon which an oath could possibly be sworn, and Zeiger cites a number of instances of oaths taken with the hand on the Sacrament. When it became unacceptable for non-priests to touch the Sacrament, the ceremony was adapted so that the oath was sworn while the priest held the Host aloft. The reception of communion after the oath was the final seal on the swearer's act. This ceremony fits perfectly into the description of the vows taken by Ignatius and his first companions at Montmartre and later in Rome. Father William Bangert describes the simple ceremony which Ignatius and his first companions celebrated at Montmartre in 1534.2 Pierre Favre, the only priest in the group, celebrated Mass. At communion he turned to face his companions while holding up the Host. One by one, they vowed poverty, chastity, and a journey to the Holy Land. If it were not possible to travel to Jerusalem within the following year, they would place themselves at the ser-vice of the pope. These first vows were not the vows of religion strictly speaking since there was as yet no superior, no real Society established. Still, the ceremony at Montmartre must have been an important step for Ignatius, for years later he prescribed the same ceremony for pronouncing vows in the newly approved Society of Jesus.3 With the acceptance of the Constitutions by the Holy See, this essentially private ceremony of vows before the Blessed Sacrament became a formal ceremony of religious profession. It is the ceremony of profession as described in the Constitutions that was later borrowed by many religious communities and incorporated into their rituals as the professio super hostiam. Now the heart of the ceremony, as we have seen, is the ritual touching of some sacred object while reciting the vow formula or oath. The question can therefore be asked whether or not this central action can be adapted in some way that would accord with the proposed outline of religious profession in RRP. I believe it can be adapted. The elevated Host is sacred precisely as an outward sign or sacramentum of God's presence in the midst of the community. However, the Host is not the only such sign present in the celebration of the liturgy. The Decree on the Sacred Liturgy of the Second Vatican Council teaches us that the Lord is also present in His Word and in the people.4 It is the presence of the Lord in his Word that has become the center of attention in RRP. 1 suggest that it would be in keeping with the core of the lgnatian tradition for those pronouncing vows to do so while holding or touching the Book of 2William Bangert, A History of the Society of Jesus (Institute of Jesuit Sources, St. Louis, 1972), p. 16. Hgnatius of Loyola, Constitutions of the Society of Jesus, (Institute of Jesuit Sources, St. Louis, 1970), George E. Ganss (trans.), n. 525. 4See no. 7. 11111 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1981 the Gospels. The central ritual action would remain the same: the ordeal of swearing on some sacred object which signifies the presence of God in our midst. What would be changed is the particular symbol chosen to r~present the presence of the Lord. Numbers 12 and 14 of the Praenotanda to RRP require that the ceremonies outlined in the rite be adapted to the spirituality and traditions of each religious family. The adapation I have proposed is just such an adaptation to the traditions of Ignatius and the Society of Jesus. There is nothing in RRP which would prohibit the one pronouncing vows from touching or holding some sacred object during the reading of the vow formula. There are also some positive reasons in favor of the ceremony l have suggested, As we have seen the emphasis in RRP is on the vows as a response to the Word of God. Pronouncing the vows while touching the Book of the Gospels from which God's Word has just been proclaimed in the assembly would further emphasize the intrinsic connection between God's call and the response of the one making vows. Since Vatican II Catholics have begun to recapture the primitive symbol-ism of God's presence in his Word. While an older generation of Catholics was raised on various devotions to the Blessed Sacrament, the younger generation is more likely to have been raised on Scripture services and Bible vigils. The Word of God is as important and vital a symbol of the Lord's presence in the Church today as was the lamp before the tabernacle in the recent past. Neither symbol is complete in itself, neither is better than its complement, but either symbol may speak more clearlyoto a particular generation. RRP has called on all religious communities to adapt their profession ceremonies in light of the new ritual. But the emphasis is on adaptation, not on simple adoption of the new rite. It is possible for those communities which have inherited their traditions of religious profession from Ignatius Loyola to accept the insights of the new rite, while remaining true to the essential core of the lgnatian tradition. In preparing for the adaptations invited by RRP we must enter more deeply into the essential elements of our profession rites. Both individually and as communities we have the opportunity to grow in our understanding of our traditions as we work to adapt them to the new rite. The suggestion made here is one attempt to seize such opportunities. Ongoing Conversion and Religious Life Miriam Louise Gramlich, L H.M. A frequent contributor to these pages, Sister Miriam Louise continues to live and work at St. Mary Convent: 610 WestElm Ave.: Monroe. MI 48161. At a time when a number of religious congregations are preparing to update their constitutions for canonical approval, many communities are engaged once again in a new study of their documents. Although the work of revision is generally entrusted to a special Documents Committee, individual members are often encouraged to take an active part in such a study by submitting their insights and recommendations to the committee. In such preparation, many individuals engage in study groups or small-group discussions on the essence of religious life, earnestly considering such questions as: "At this point in time, how do we see ourselves? What do we believe are the most important elements of religious life? What identifies us as religious?" and the like. Such study and discussion furnished a springboard for this writer to research and reflect on ongoing conversion as one essential component of any truly spiritual life. It was exciting to discover that many reputable contemporary theologians also hold this view. Bernard Lonergan maintains that conversion is fundamental to religious living. He says it is not a topic studied in traditional theology since it is too dynamic to remain with the abstract or the static. It occurs in the lives of individuals not merely as a change, or even a development, but more often as a "radical transformation," a complete about-face in one's relations to others and to God. He further believes that reflection on the ongoing process of conversion may uncover the real foundation of theological renewal, its aggiornamento. * Many religious regard their response to their vocation, their religious profession, as a deep conversion experience. They may question whether a 819 1~20 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1981 radical, new conversion is possible after one has sincerely committed one's whole life to God. Yet most of us can remember occasions in our lives--times of crisis or quiet times of retreat--when we did experience a deepening and intensifying of our original consecration to Christ. After the initial surrender, our lives are meant to express an ever deeper self-realization, a continual act of self-giving and abandonment to God, a continual conversion. This has to be done throughout our lives. More growth in our surrender is always pos-sible. Depending upon each new situation, we are capable of further growth and maturity in love. Scripture gives us a good example in St. Peter, who although he had faithfully responded to his vocation of following Christ, found further conversions in his life necessary. Before Peter's denial at the time of the Passion, Jesus foretells his apostle's conversion: "I have prayed for you, Simon, that your faith may not fail, and once you have been converted, you in turn must strengthen your brothers" (Lk 22:31). Conversion, then, is necessarily ongoing,, for religious life calls for con-tinual growth and development. On earth all of us remain pilgrims on the way, and although we may be just, at the same time we realize that we are sinful and in need of overcoming sin through grace and love. Nature of Conversion The word conversion signifies a "turning around" in an opposite direction, making a countermovement. A person has turned in a wrong direction and must retrace his way. For the psychologist William James, conversion is the process, gradual or sudden, in which the divided self becomes unified (p. 123). It means a change in what he calls "the habitual center of personal energy"-- the group of ideas and values to which a person devotes himself. "To say that a man is 'converted' means that religious ideas previously peripheral., now take a central place, and that religious aims form the habitual center of his energy" (p. 125). The converted person now finds new values and meanings in his life; he thinks differently and relates differently. In short, for him life is transformed. In religious conversion, God takes the initiative in calling back the one who has strayed from him. No human being is self-sufficient; no one is able to return to the Father through his own resources. Conversion is possible only through God's grace. Through his merciful love, the Father has sent Jesus Christ, his beloved Son, to live and die for us. Jesus dwelt on earth to reveal the merciful and forgiving love of his Father and to show us the way back to him. His sufferings and death have won for us the grace that is the sole source of all conversion. *Bernard Lonergan. "Theology In Its New Context" from Conversion. Ed. by Walter E. Corm, Ph.D. New York: Alba House, 1978, pp. 12-20. References to other theologians and writers are taken from this book and the pages are indicated in the body of the article. Ongoing Conversion and Religious Life Dom Marc-Fran~;ois Lacan defines religious conversion as "a grace of light which reveals both the ingratitude of man in sinning and the goodness and mercy of God toward him." This grace is received when there is humble admission of sin, an opening up with confidence to the goodness and love of God who desires to forgive. It involves a change of heart in which "the converted one acknowledges his need, humbly accepts God's pardon, opens himself to the grace which renews his heart, and asks confidently for the grace of his transformation." Furthermore, Dom Lacan holds that it is through a necessary and ongoing conversion and renewal that man succeeds in respond-ing to God's call, to his vocation and mission (pp. 75, 79). For Karl Barth, conversion means waking up, ,rising from the sleep of death," or more correctly, a "being awakened," since awakening and rising are possible only "in the power of the mystery and miracle of God" (p. 35). Karl Rahner sees conversion as "fundamental decision"--a basic choice intended to turn a person's entire life to God; likewise, it is response to a call from God made possible through grace. "This call of God is both Jesus Christ himself as the presence of the kingdom of God in person., and his Spirit as the. presence which as God's self-communication, offers freedom and forgive-ness to overcome the narrow limitations and sinfulness of man" (p. 204). Rahner explains that insofar as conversion is concrete concern and obedience to God's call, it is faith; as a turning from the past and abandoning one's own securities, "trusting oneself to the uncharted way into the open and incalcu-lable future in which God comes," conversion is hope; and insofar as it con-sists in unselfish love of God, neighbor and self, conversion is charity (p. 206). Bernard Haring also regards conversion as "radical decision," a humble, grateful and joyous acceptance of the kingdom of God in Christ (p. 216). For Charles Curran, conversion is believing in the "Good News" and turning to the Father. It is heeding the message of Jesus: "The time has come ¯ . . and the reign of God is at hand. Be converted and believe in the Good News" (Mk 1:15). He emphasizes its joyful aspect: "Conversion is a joyfu.l proclamation of God's love, calling for a change of heart." The prodigal son's return to his father was a joyful experience (p. 225). Perhaps Bernard Lonergan's description of conversion best sums up the foregoing ideas: "Religious conversion., is other-worldly falling in love. It is a total and permanent self-surrender without conditions, qualifications or reservations . For Christians, it is God's love flooding our hearts through the Holy Spirit given to us. It is the gift of grace . . ." (p. 18). From all these definitions, it is clear that conversion involves both initiative on the part of God and response on the part of man. In this return to the Father through the Son in the grace of the Spirit, the self is both objective and subjective, both active and passive. Patterns and Dimensions of Conversion Although every conversion, like every person, is unique, certain patterns 1t22 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1981 and dimensions can be discerned. As already mentioned, some conversions are sudden while others are gradual. Even in those that appear sudden, such as St. Paul's and St. Augustine's, there could well have been a longer time of preparation than we know. Some psychologists and counselors call attention to the frequency of con-versions at the time of adolescence, yet they frankly admit that these can often be the result of suggestion rather than of real growth or maturity in the person's spiritual life, and tend to be transitory. A large number of great religious personalities, such as Paul, Augustine, and Teresa of Avila, experi-enced deep conversion later in life. The one unanimous opinion of theologians and psychologists is in favor of ongoing conversion. Not only in adolescence is a person brought into a new life of maturity and personal insight, but conversion or renewal takes place all through life. Since we live from moment to moment, day to day, year to year, we can never accomplish total spiritual maturity in this life. We can only move toward it. Ongoing conversion in religious life may well be a movement from a merely external and conventional practice of "regular observance," of rules and regulations, to one in which a true interior commitment and surrender to the will of God is paramount. Sometimes external observances, even external worship, can be obstacles to conversion when they become the sole criteria of dove and justice. The hypocrisy of the Pharisees consisted basically in reducing the interior worship of God to mere externals. Although a sound formation is an important element in religious life, if it is over-emphasized it could hinder conversion and the transformation that is the result of conversion. Rosemary Haughton, who considers the importance of both formation and transformation, feels that a good formation is neces-sary for a person to form correct judgments and make right decisions, but it may become a hindrance to true renewal and transformation. She writes: This is the dilemma. A good formation, according to a sound customary and moral law, is necessary if a person is to be able to respond to the demand for the decision to love. Yet if this formation is really good and really thorough, it may. just because it is good, prevent the person from being aware of the need for repentance and decision. No need for repentance will appear, therefore no change of heart, no transformation, will be possible (p. 26). Some religious may find their days characterized by hyperactivity, clut-tered with needless trivia. Often sincere, devout religious become dissatisfied and yearn for something more than their present religious life is giving them. They may feel the need of more time for prayer and reflection. Always it is necessary to stay spiritually awake, to be aware of new calls from God, lest we become like the foolish virgins who let their lamps go out, like the apostles who slept in Gethsemane during Christ's agony. And when these calls come, we must answer them promptly. There is an insistent quality about them. If we do not respond at once, the same opportunity may not come again. The time Ongoing Conversion and Religious Life is always now. "Now is the acceptable time." Now is the time to wake up from sleep and seek the Lord, as Isaiah reminds us: Seek Yahweh while he is to be found. call him while he is still near (55:6). Finally, it is necessary to note that a deep, sincere conversion has always had not only a personal, individual dimension but a communal, social one as well. However, the latter dimension has been given more importance in our time. The emphasis in years past may have been more on striving for God's glory through individual perfection and salvation. Today it manifests itself in seeking God's glory through greater cosmic love and compassion, a conver-sion which leads to more determination to spread Christ's kingdom through selfless service of the world's poor and suffering. In fact, for anyone aiming at wholeness and self-fulfillment, conversion cannot be purely a private matter, an individual concern. As Karl Barth puts it: "The man who wants to be converted only for his own sake and for himself rather than to God the Lord and to entry into the service of His cause on earth and as His witness in the cosmos, is not the whole man" (p. 39). Since by becoming incarnate, Jesus took this world and everything human so seriously, the converted person, in imitation of his model, takes a positive view of the "here and now." He sees his relationship to all his neighbors as immensely important, because he perceives Christ in each one of them: "1 was hungry and you gave me food" (Mt 25:35). He will be involved, in the first place, with his own immediate religious community, viewing it as his spiritual family, and realizing that those have first claim on his love and concern who have opted to live and labor intimately with him for the spread of the kingdom. At the same time, the truly converted religious, open to the Spirit, will be aware of the social sin present in so many institutions and structures of our society today, and will earnestly pray and work to eradicate the social injustices that oppress and exploit so many people. These unjust structures can be changed only through a deliberate commitment on the part of many correctly informed persons to participate coni:retely and realistically in the day-to-day struggle to liberate the poor and oppressed. Through new minis-tries and new means of involvement, today's converted religious is becoming more effective in this mission of liberation. We are in a better position now to recognize'the lineaments and to draw ¯ the portrait of the converted person, the man or woman wholly turned towards God, completely "for God." Although a new creature in Christ, such a person realizes that the rem-nants of the old self still cling to him. He cannot always do the good he wants to do and must constantly struggle against a downward pull, an inveterate tendency towards selfishness and self-will. St. Paul describes this inward con-flict so well. He writes: "The Law is spiritual but 1 am unspiritual . I cannot 1~211 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1981 understand my own behavior. 1 fail to carry out the things I want to do and I find myself doing the very things 1 hate., though the will to do what is good is in me, the performance is not," and he concludes: "What a wretched man 1 am! Who will rescue me from this body doomed to death?" His answer is that this can come only "through Jesus Christ our Lord!" (Rm 7:14-25). It is in Christ then that the converted person comes to recognize and accept what he is in himself, but also to realize the self as God's gift. Through grace, he sees himself as a lovable person because he is loved by God and others in spite of everything he knows about his own weaknesses, failures and even sinfulness. Through constant, ongoing conversion, Love has gradually become his raison d'etre. With each new surrender to God's will and provi-dence, his life is becoming transformed. He is the same person and yet the change is producing a "new person." As St. Paul expresses it: "If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has passed away; behold the new has come" (2 Co 5:!7). Conversion gives birth to a new life, hidden in Christ, which produces in the person childlike humility and a deep sense of joy, as well as increased freedom and maturity. In the awareness of his own salvation--the great things the Lord has done for him--the converted one is ready to become a witness to the reign of Christ's kingdom and to help others experience the peace and joy he has found in converting his whole heart to God. He echoes David's words: "I will teach transgressors your ways, and sinners will return to you" (Ps 50:13). Thus ongoing conversion becomes the way in which the kingdom of God is estab-lished anew and the Spirit renews the face of the earth. It is wise to remember that even though there may be exceptions, the renewed spiritual life described in this portrait of the converted person takes a lifetime to become fully developed, even as a seed that is planted in the soil takes time to push up from the ground and develop into the full flower and fruit. Father Bernard Haring says: "Usually only the final yes to the loving will of God in death brings final maturity" (p. 219). Every human experience in life can be a new call of God's love, and every grateful response on the part of a religious can be an intensifying of the divine life within. Each successive conversion is only a new beginning, meant to be ongoing and to deepen the union with the soul's loving Bridegroom. In considering the essentials of religious life, would it not be wise, then, to include "ongoing conversion" as an important element of religious living? Does not the very fact that we must be constantly evaluating our lives and periodically updating and renewing the principles and constitutions we live by prove that such dynamic conversion and renewal are indeed of the essence of our vocation? Communal Discernment George. Schemel, S.J., and Sister Judith Roemer Father Schemel and Sister Judith are on the staff of the Jesuit Center for Spiritual Growth; Church Road; Wernersville, PA 19565. With today's new awareness of group process, it is not surprising that there has been a renewed interest in communal discernment. Although for a long time historians and theologians have talked about communal discernment, it is ohly recently that groups have returned to a more formal use of this prac-tice. We have personally witnessed and facilitated several of these sessions each year for the past nine years. Although communal discernment is ancient in the church, the historical precedent for the articulated form to which we refer in this writing is the experience of St. Ignatius Loyola and his first companions in their delibera-tions about the founding of the Jesuit order. As a group they worked through questions of community, the need for a vow of obedience, the procedures for sending each other into apostolic works. Out of that experience, written ina little paper known as the Deliberation of the First Fathers, has come a procedure for communal discernment, along with some characteristics that distinguish it from other forms of decision-making. Perhaps most characteristic of this procedure is the insistence on separating the pro and con sides of a qu.estion at issue, requiring that each person prayerfully consider and speak to both. There is, however, more to communal discernment than this. Actually, communal discernment might have many forms. Once some important- elements are acknowledged and considered, many varieties of procedures become possible. Essentially, there are seven elements in com-munal discernment. In the paragraphs that follow, we are going to talk about each one. The seven essential elements of communal discernment are: 825 1126 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1981 1) An explicit attitude and atmosphere of faith 2) Prayer: before, during, after; for light, for purification 3) Interior freedom: poised spiritual liberty 4) Information: disseminated, assimilated 5) Separation into con and pro reasons 6) Attempt at consensus 7) Confirmation (congruence) a) Internal: joy and peace in the Holy Spirit b) How does the decision work out over a period of time? How is the decision accepted by legitimate authority? The first three elements should be habitual modes of mind and heart. They ought to be part of the group's life rather than something it quickly does on the morning of a decision. The next three elements belong to the more formal part of the discernment process. The last element, confirmation and congru-ence, is monitored in the group over weeks, months, a year, as the new decision is worked out and tested. 1. An Explicit Attitude and Atmosphere of Faith At the base of each communal discernment is a belief and growing aware-ness of our "name of grace," the unique way in which God calls to me indi-vidually and to us corporately. Discernment itself rests on the theological belief that God d~als personally and individually with each of us. Over the years, as this relationship has grown and been nourished, we have often become aware of those patterns and characteristics, those unique notes which characterize one's own personal relationship with God. This "first name of grace"--the unique way in which God deals with me--may seem a new idea at first; but at second glance we recognize that we have come to take it for granted in distinguishing some of our favorite saints: St. Therese of Lisieux and her "Little Way," or St. Francis of Assisi, "God's Little Poor Man," are readily distinguished from St. Robert Bellarmine, "the Church has not his like in learning," or St. Teresa of Avila, the first v~oman Doctor of the Church. in each of these persons, God was known in a unique set of circumstances. Their sanctity developed through this uniqueness. In working out their identity, vocation and mission, what was appropriate for one could not have been appropriate for another. For instance, Francis may well have begged and walked barefoot among the Umbrian hills,.forbidding his followers to ride horseback because it was a sign of nobility and ~wealth. Robert Bellarmine, on the other hand, had ser-vants, a coach and four, and a castle as a part of his being a cardinal. The choices of Francis would not have been appropriate for Robert, nor vice versa. Similarly Teresa of Avila dedicated herself to God in Carmel almost twenty years before she began "to get serious about her contemplation. Again in her case, the timings, the graces, the circumstances were simply different. Yet each was faithful to his or her inspirations. Each became a saint in his Communal Discernment own right. Just as it is important that an individual be aware of his "first name of grace," it is likewise vitally important that groups pay attention to their own unique calling as a group, their "last name of grace." Much was said after Vatican I1 about rediscovering the original grace or charism of the founder. Groups were encouraged to look at their own graces, patterns of call and apostolic works. Any group, be it family, diocese, reli-gious community, parish organization, has its own charism, its own "last name of grace." There is some common identity that focuses the energies of that group. It is much like a family with several children. For example, the distinction among Bob, Mary, Peter and Sharon is certainly observable; yet the fact that they all belong to the Parker family is also immediately apparent. This example highlights the distinction between first and last name of grace. In any communal discernment it is very important that the persons within a group be aware of their faith-reality, their first and last name of grace. The last name of grace, that special uniqueness that we share with each other as members of this particular community, is of especial importance during the iime of discernment. It is necessary that decisions which involve this group of people flow from their awareness of their own group's unique relationship with God. These awarenesses should be heightened at the time of decision so that all are in touch with this reality during the whole process of discernment. Notice, too, that we have said "in an atmosphere of faith." Communal discernment is not another group method along with Robert's rules, management by objec-tives, paternal or maternal guidance, or any other such possibilities. Discern-ment demands that we ask the further question: "What is God asking of me and my group in this concrete situation?" This is an important, feature of communal discernment because, in discernment, we are weighing and decid-ing among goods rather than choosing between good and evil. We are not asking how much money can we save, how much profit can we accumulate, where can we sacrifice now in order to get ahead later, we are asking quite simply: ."What does God want?" The word explicit is also important. There may have been a time when it was not as important as it is today to make faith explicit. "In the good, old days," when the community was close or the group came out of a well-knit parochial setting, there may have been a more common understanding of faith beliefs. In a religious community the way of dress, the customs, the order of the day all said something to everyone about what people believed. There was a time in the lives of many of us when we got out of bed at 5:20 a.m. because "the voice of God is in the sound of the bell"; we kissed the floor before saying the office because we were unworthy to proclaim God's praise; and we said our prayers in Latin so that we could be united with the universal Church. Today, though, I still will listen to God's voice; I am continually unworthy to offer his praise; and 1 am united to the universal Church. But I look different ~!211 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1981 and my life-style has changed. Unless I am more explicit about my faith values, most people will not know of the faith-drama that is going on within me. For that reason groups must voice for themselves their beliefs, and dis-tinctions they make between faith-absolutes and cultural relatives. Obviously, it is not possible to have this faith-awareness automatically no matter how knowledgeable a group might be nor how group-sensitized it has become. Granted one needs information and group-sensitivity, but the special kind of information and sensitivity needed here is brought about forcefully by the second element of communal discernment. 2. Prayer: Before, During, and After, for Light and Purification Discernment rests on the belief that the human organism is made rightly, and that God actually works perceptibly in one's affective consciousness. It also rests on the belief that evil is a reality. If the deciding body is to sort through and weigh its consolation (those things which bring about an increase of faith, hope, and love--thus urging one close to God) and its desolation (those things which foster a lack of faith, hope, and love--thus urging one away from God), it must do this searching fortified by prayer. No group is without its intimacy questions, its hostilities, its life-style inconsistencies, its power plays and territorial (physical or psychological) disputes. The group must sort out its anger, fear, resentment, ambition, stubbornness, insecurity-- all the negative sinfulness that plagues most of us twenty-four hours a day. The necessity of being in touch with God through all of this confrontation with sin and sinfulness is paramount. The authentic who-l-am--my first and last name of grace--owning its reality of sinfulness, must come before God to listen. If, for instance, on the day my two housekeepers.quit, and 1 am misunderstood by a department head, and the keys to the car are missing when I want to run away, I go before God and say, "Dear Father,,please bless your child and increase my love and devotion to you," I am more probably not being entirely authentic before God. It would likely be better for me to say, "Dear God, I amso angry. I hate my job. I hate housekeeping. It's your fault that l'm in this stupid situation. 1 know I'm being selfish and stubborn and I don't want to change. I am in great need of your help, so please will you heal me?" It is only in that attitude of dependence and honesty that 1 am ready to begin to listen. It is difficult to believe that a matter proposed for communal discernment would be so clear as not to provoke a number of positive and negative thoughts and feelings in a group. There is hardly a topic today that can be introduced for group consideration that does not evoke a host of rational and irrational, controlled and spontaneous reactions and responses. Without prayer, thee third element of discernment is also impossible. 3. Interior Freedom--Poised Spiritual Liberty In the Exercises, Ignatius spends a considerable amount of space on the topic of"indifference"---that attitude of mind which says, "Please God, I want Communal Discernment what you want. 1 will receive honor or scorn, richness or poverty, fame or hiddenness--whatever is for your honor and glory, whatever you want in my life, in whatever measure you want it." That attitude is not easy for an indi-vidual personally; much less is it easy for a group that is involved in a particu-lar work or prejudiced in a particular direction. If, for instance, 1 have just spent two years of my blood, sweat and tears establishing an individualized reading program in grades one to four, I will hardly be spontaneously indifferent or spiritually free for a discernment pro-cess aimed at deciding whether or not to close the primary grades in our school. Similarly, if I have just spent six years getting a B.A. and an M.A. in Latin, it will be very hard for me to be indifferent to a discernment process about dropping the classics from the curriculum. In any such circumstances, we have to be aware of these reluctances, prejudices and fears, prayerfully asking to be freed from their hold on us, at least during the time of discernment. As I mentioned before, these first three elements, faith-prayer-freedom, are ongoing attitudes that need to grow in individuals as well as in the group before decision-making can begin to share the qualities of authentic discern-ment. In one group, my partner and I animated a decision-making group and their husbands or wives over a four month period precisely on these first three elements. We set up a series of structured spiritual conversations in which the group participated in looking at its history together, articulating its gifts and liabilities, reinforcing its individual and qiturgical prayer commitments, and sharing all these with each other in preparation for a decision about its parish finances. At the end of that period of preparation, the group expediti.ously continued into the process and made decisions about a $ i,000,000 inheritance. Along with these habitual modes of living, such as prayer, faith and free-dom, but' before coming to the actual decision, there is a period of research and fact-finding. This leads us into our fourth element. 4. Information: Disseminated and Assimilated There are few, if any, direct pipelines from heaven; and thus there is no substitute for study, research, evaluation, and an awareness of the concrete facts about the subject up for decision. Included in such a list of facts are the feelings and values in the group which are associated with the situation. If, for example, I am on a studies committee that is trying to decide whether or not to send three persons off to get doctorates, we cannot just meet, expecting God to send us an answer. As a deciding group, we need to know the candidates' talents, their grades, their GREs, the requirements of the particular university, the attraction or repulsion each person feels for graduate studies, the finances involved, the transportation and housing available, the related job opportunities present in our system, the relevance of this type of education for our overall work, the spiritual needs of the persons involved, their mental and physical stamina and on and on. Not only must the data be 1131~ / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1981 accumulated, but all the members of the group must have studied the facts. It would be outrageous for me to arrive some place the night before a meeting and be expected to decide whether a novitiate should be moved to a new location if I am unfamiliar with the topic and have not had time to study the briefs. In that case 1 simply would have no human information to use as a reality check on my discernment. Once information has been gathered and studied, it is necessary to formu-late subject at issue in a simple statement. It is best not to try to address a multifacet6d issue all at once, or attempt to deal with a complicated formula. In other words, keep the issue simple. As a rule, the statement should be a simple, declarative sentence articulating the issue in a manner opposite to the status quo. For instance, if we are presently trying to concentrate our person-nel in a few hospitals (this is our status quo), then the statement of our issue might be, We would have g~reater apostolic effectiveness by scattering our per-sonnel in as many health services as possible. Or, in another example, if our present practice is to elect a president of the board every second year (status quo), our sentence might read, There will'be an election of the president of the board every fourth year. Our pra.ctice of writing the proposition in this way, opposite to the status quo, arose out of experience. Groups seem to be better able to look at their situation from a new perspective when the proposition is presented to them from the opposite situation. One of the big temptations in formulating a working simple sentence is to include too many issues at one time. A statement such as: Five generalate councilors should form an equal-power team in spiri-tuality, apostolate, temporalities, formation, and community life. is just too complex. That proposition contains too many items of concern: I. How many councilors are needed? 2. Should there be team government? 3. Do all the members have equal power? 4. Where does the authority reside? 5. What are the needed areas of responsibility? In such a case it would be better to work at the many issues one at a time~. Part of learning to live with communal discernment is learning to live with process. In other words, the group needs time and patience to work with its own real agenda and to be satisfied with the sometimes small, but clear truths that belong to it. In discernment it is necess~iry to work with clarities and to move as a group from one point to another without jumping ahead of the graces actually present. Once the issue is formulated in a simple, declarative statement we move on Communal Discernment to the fifth element. 5. Separation into Con and Pro Reasons The separation of the issue into the con and pro reasons is necessary so that each and all take a fair look at both sides of the question, and so that at no time-does the discernment become merely a discussion or a debate. In this procedure, where each is asked to address both sides of the issue, the timid are given an opportunity to speak; while the loquacious are challenged to be more focused. This procedure allows the many sides of the issue to be explored and articulated. When a group knows that everyone will be giving the cons and everyone will be giving the pros, there is less chance that any one person will be singled out and made to stand alone. In this way, the defensiveness of the group is reduced to a minimum. Debate is also precluded. Obviously, one does not go into a discernment knowing an answer and pressuring the other side into compliance. Rather, in communal discernment the group members are looked upon as partners in seeking the truth. In fact, should one be convinced of an answer before discernment, it would be foolish for that person to proceed through the process. The purpose of discernment: finding God's will, is already present. It doesn't make much sense to discern about something when one already knows what God wants. To go through those motions would merely mean to play games. When the group finally meets for the more formal part of the discernment, a simple procedure can be helpful. After a period of prayer, each person in a group of possibly six or eight persons is asked to state the reasons he or she sees against the proposition. At this point the person does not say that he or she is personally against the proposition, but only that he sees good reasons against it. Those reasons that he names are real reasons for him. He does not speak for anyone else, nor does he manufacture reasons. The group listens to all the reasons against, each one giving only one reason each time, until each person has given his entire list. There may be a need to go around in the circle of the group several times before this is accomplished. It is helpful for all of the members to write down the various reasons stated so that all have an accurate account of these reasons later on in the consensus effort. The group is then asked to begin a second period of prayer over the reasons for the proposition. At the end of this time, the group meets again and each is asked to state reasons for the proposition. The procedure is exactly the same as the first time. Each one gives one reason, and all stay until everyone has had a chance to give his entire list. They may have gone around the circle several times to accomplish this. Again, the reasons are written by each. For the sake of fairness, it is good to give equal time to con and pro even if this means sitting in silence together. The quiet time can be an opportunity to consider the new information learned from the group. The discipline in these first two sessions of giving con and pro is quite 1132 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1981 strict. Although one may certainly ask a question about a word that she has not heard or a phrase that was not clear, there is, on the other hand, no discussion or amplification. The assumption here is that the time for discus-sion and challenge has taken place in the weeks before communal discern-ment. At our present point .in the procedure, the emphasis is on listening and sorting out the facts and feelings without further dialogue. Sometimes people ask why.we look at the cons first. Historically~ that is what Ignatius and his friends did. Psychologically, there is n~uch evidence to support the fact that negative reasons are hard to hold in and quite naturally come to the forefront~ It seems best to lay them on the table early. I have, in fact, experimented with a group's giving pro reasons first. On one occasion two of us did a communal discernment with two hundred and fifty persons. We divided the large group into twenty-five small groups. Although all used the same issue, half the small groups worked on positive first, then negative. All groups came to the same general conclusion, but those doing positive reasons first experienced some stress in holding on to their negatives until last. At present, I consistently do the negative or con reasons at the beginning. After the group has looked carefully at con and pro reasons, there is a third period of prayer. At this time each person looks carefully at his or her own reasons and the additional reasons both against and for voiced in the group. He then comes up with his own personal decision about the matter. At a third group session all meet to state their decision and attempt to work towards consensus, the sixth element. 6. Consensus Seldom does it happen that all persons in a group are of one mind right away. It is a good idea at the beginning of this third session to make a quick poll of the group to see its initial stand. Lit us say that a group is discerning whether or not to close a retirement home. Seven say "yes" and three say "no" at the beginning of the first round. Perhaps the three who say "no" have certain legitimate fears about the closing: "Well, I can't agree unless all the residents are carefully placed in other homes." "I could agree if we find some other way of Christian witness in this same .neighborhood." "I can agree provided we wait two years until the new city home is finished next year." It may be, in listening carefully to these provided's,,:if's unless's, maybe's, that we.can seek areas of agreement. Here the dialogue with the group.is much freer. All are listening to hear what is really being said by the entire group. Sometimes, at this point, the original proposition needs to be restated or changed to include the new areas of agreement. Often there is a greater facility in reaching consensus once people are assured that their very real concern can be taken care of in some way that they did not previously imagine. One.of the biggest temptations at this point in the communal discernment is to try to "form consensus" instead of reading the one that is "actually in the group. At one time I saw a .group come to a standstill over whether three or Communal Discernment seven persons would be sent on an African project. On the surface, they thought there was no consensus, and continued to argue over "three" or "seven." However, in this case there definitely was a consensus: both sides agreed to three persons. That is clear. It's just that some wanted four more to go. On another occasion I participated in a group that was locked over the time of liturgy: 6:15 a.m. or 4:30 p.m. We went round and round giving very convincing reasons for both options. Again there appeared to be no consen-sus. Yet there was. All the group agreed the liturgy was a very important part of their life together. All wanted the liturgy at the prime time of day. The disagreement focused around what time was "prime." Once that detail was realized, and the group acknowledged its common faith convictions, the ten-sion was released and the detail compromised and brought to consensus. There are times, however, when consensus in the sense of "we all feel, think, believe together" cannot be reached. When there is no complete consen-sus, a group may have to be content with a vote or having the resident authority declare the practical steps to be followed in the group's life on this question. This is particularly true when time runs out or the urgency of the matter demands~decision. Ideally, one should take the unresolved consensus back to prayer and continue the process. However, there are times when this is just not feasible, and the group has to resort to the expediency of voting or having the consensus declared. Once the decision has been made and the consensus is reached, it is neces-sary to take that decision back to prayer and ask for confirmation. 7. Confirmation: Exterior and Interior Interiorly, when a good decision has been made, the group should expe-rience a peace and joy in the Holy Spirit. There is a rightness in its sense of being, a congruence with the first and last name of grace. This definition of discernment sums up the interior confirmation. "Discernment is an experien-tial knowledge of self in the congruence of the object of choice and one's fundamental religious orientation." If a good decision has been made, the persons within the group will experience these qualities during the following months and there will be a new graced energy to carry out the decision. Sometimes, a group experiences a "sigh of relief: that at last a decision has been made. 'Let's go home!'" That is hardly interior confirmation. Rather confirmation is a growing awareness over time about the rightness of the decision. The decision fits well with who I am personally and communally. It urges me to a greater service of God. Finally, I can return to my habitual form of prayer and find that 1 am not continuing to go around in circles or to debate about the issue, but rather 1 am growing in peace and joy before the Lord. This interior confirmation must be checked with exterior confirmation as well. Is this decision accepted by legitimate authority? Does time confirm the rightness of the decision? ~!~14 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1981 I once discerned that I should become a regular blood donor so that I could participate in some physical way in the human race. 1 appeared eagerly one morning at the bloodmobile only to be told that unfortunately no one under one hundred ten pounds was allowed to give blood. Another time 1 discerned with a group about going to a particular university. I had all the required finances, housing, and approval on my side of things, and then had the application rejected by the admittance board. In both cases 1 lacked the acceptance of legitimate authority. Sometimes it happens that a group conscientiously submits the results of a genuine discernment to legitimate authority which says, "no." The discern-ment lacks exterior confirmation. For the time being the group can be assured that it is not called to proceed in precisely the way it has decided. This does not mean the group was wrong, or the authority right. It just means they temporarily have no confirmation, and they need to plan carefully for the next step. Ideally, the legitimate authority in a given situation has been a part of the discerning group. It is also important for the group to be clear about whether the discernment it is undertaking is consultative (the group acting as advisor) or deliberative (the group actually being the deciding body). Such distinctions made before the time and energy of the group has been devoted to the process will eliminate strain and misunderstanding later on. Lastly, the practicalities of life add their own kind of confirmation by answering the question, "How does it work over a period of time?" A group may have discerned to take on extra sick calls or catechetical duties, only to find later on that their regular work is being neglected, there is less time for prayer, or they are becoming unduly tired and crabby. All these signs of disharmony suggest that they take another look at their decision. If we set up a soup kitchen, and six months later not too many come for soup, we can rightly assume that the apostolic venture needs to be reevaluated; the apos-tolic possibility we once saw doesn't seem relevant any longer. Summary In summary then, before coming to discernment, a group needs three viable attitudes: !) faith --an awareness of God's acting in my life --an awareness of my own name of grace --an awareness of the group's name of grace 2) prayer --an abiding sensitivity to the movements of.consolation and desolation --a realization of personal and corporate sinfulness --a willingness to face our hang-ups honestly 3) freedom--a willingness to be responsive to whatever God is asking --an indifference towards the options of good that are placed Communal Discernment before us --a desire to move in the fullness of our reality With these attitudes and awarenesses at one's fingertips, we then move into the more formal aspect of communal discernment. 4) Studying the issue: formulating the question in a simple manner. 5) Separating the reasons into cons and pros and being willing to look carefully at both sides of the issue. 6) Attempting consensus and seeking areas of agreement. Finally, as we come to our decision and begin to carry it out, we monitor ourselves for the next weeks, months, year. 7) Experiencing confirmation both interiorly in peace and joy in the Holy Spirit, in congruence, and appropriate indifference; and exteriorly through the reality check of time and acceptance by legitimate authority. With these seven elements it is hoped that a group can come to a decision that represents God's will for it. Certainly if the group has been faithful to the various elements, not only will its decision be well-grounded but also the lives .together of its members as part of the Christian community will have deep-ened. Within the process they will have experienced trust, faith, sinfulness and forgiveness. In a very real way they have participated in the life, death, and resurrection of the Lord by sharing the work of seeking the truth, facing their sinfulness, and participating in the forgiveness and love necessary to come to consensus. Certainly, this method of proceeding is consistent with who they are~ More importantly, they have allowed the means of their decision-making to enter into their purpose for being together. Just as we assume that the end does not justify the means, in discernment spirituality we go one step further to say that the means enters into the end. All parts of the process are important and must be consistent with the truth and love which a discerning group is called to seek. Communal discernment provides that opportunity more than other decision-making methods. There is no one way of conducting a communal discernment. As long as the seven elements are observed, the variations can be many. A group might prepare and study an issue for several months and then come together for a day, allowing forty-five minutes for each part of the prayer, cons and pros, while leaving the rest of the day for consensus. Or, if time is short, a group may look at cons during one meeting, pros at a second, and consensus at a third. Less complicated situations or smaller groups might use a shorter time. Sometimes people ask how a group knows what issues to use for discern-ment. Usually, as any group stays together, there are any number of issues that arise and need to be settled. Communal discernment is best used on those issues which touch the common vocation. Lesser issues can be handled admin-istratively. They do not need the amount of time and effort that is required of an entire group in communal discernment. 1~36 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1981 In conclusion, in our own day we have come to realize more and more that it takes the entire community to hear the infinitely rich word of God. No one person has ears big enough to do this on his own. Most of us also accept committee meetings, team efforts, total staff participation, and second opin-ions as a normal part of life. The age of the loner or even of the enlightened amateur is waning. As our awareness of life's richness and complexities increases, we are encouraged to look beyond our personal wisdom to a wider group of conscientious people who will be with us in our decision-making. No one wants the burden of closing a school, opening a new department, with-drawing a subsidy, initiating a new field of research completely alone. More and more we are relying on a gathering of friends, experts, or colleagues to decide corporately what is the best way to go. Most of us, too, have experienced a certain frustration with groups and meetings. Projections and power struggles, contracts and silences that we may have learned to handle and work with on a more individual, personal level, often become very complex in a group. Our current skills do not always seem to work. The group becomes a hindrance rather than a help for our endeavors. On the brighter side, most of us learn quite early that "none of us is as smart as all of us." In our labored ignorance in seeking for truth we welcome as much help as we can get. Theologically, we may have been alerted to the awesome interchange that takes place between God and humankind. The Lord has visited his creatures, and we are a part of that magnificent inter-change. Communal discernment offers us a way of participating in this mystery. At the close of the Deliberations, the author has the following remarks that might well be our goal as well as our prayer during communal discernment. By the feast of St. John, all our business was pleasantly concluded in the spirit of perfect harmony. But it was only by first engaging in prolonged vigils and prayers, with much expenditure of physical and mental energy that we resolved these problems and brought them to this happy conclusion. A Note on Small Beginnings in The Spiritual Exercises Nancy M. Malone, O.S.U. Sister Nancy has been enjoying a "spiritual sabbatical" after a period of service as director of a retreat center and a regional director of the National Institute for Campus Ministries (NICM). She is residing at the Ursuline Convent of St. Angela; 265 East 162nd St.: Bronx, NY 10451. Talking about one's Thirty Day Retreat can, I suppose, be like talking about one's operation, and probably for the same reasons. It is all so intensely meaningful and interesting to the person who has undergone it as to be endlessly fascinating--to her. This article is not about my retreat in the sense of recounting those profound and personal things that happened to me during it. It is about several devices embedded in the text of The Spiritual Exercises which I believe contain one of Ignatius' much-praised psychological insights. The insight is displayed in the various and canny ways that Ignatius has. us use to bring ourselves from "a distance" to "closer," or from "outside" to "inside" in respect tothe scene or person(s) we are contemplating, or, in sohae cases, from "outside" to "inside" ourselves. Underlying the devices is what might be called the "vestibule principle," the need, recognized by Ignatius, among others, that scattered and externalized human beings have to go through an "anteroom" before entering into the "Holy of Holies." Put another way; Ignatius' insight has to do with ways of our becoming "present." I came upon this insight in the course of my Thirty Day Retreat at Loyola House in Guelph, Canada. I used the text of The Exercises itself as translated by Elder Muilan, S.J. Having been warned about Ignatius' less than elegant style and less than contemporary theology and imagery, I nonetheless approached the text on the assumption that the man had chosen his words very carefully and for a purpose. This assumption of intentional precision paid off. 837 11311 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1981 Take, for instance, the "second prelude" (the composition of place) in all of the exemplary contemplations that Ignatius lays out in the Second and Third Weeks. On the Incarnation: "Here it will be to see the great capacity and circuit of the world, in which are so many and such different people; then likewise, in particular, the house and rooms of Our Lady in the city of Naza-reth, in the Province of Galilee." On the Nativity: "It will be here to see with the sight of the imagination the road from Nazareth to Bethlehem; consid-ering the length and the breadth .'.; likewise looking at the place or cave of the Nativity, how large, how small . " On the Passion: "It will be here to consider the road from Bethany to Jerusalem, whether broad, whether narrow .; likewise the place of the Supper, whether large, whether small . "And again on the Passion: "It will be here to consider the road from Mount Sion to the Valley of Josaphat, and likewise the Garden, whether wide, whether large. . . ." (Notice, by the way, that following his own advice to directors in the "second annotation," Ignatius doesn't paint the picture for us; he simply lays out categories for our imaginations to play with.) Wh'y all this attention to "circuits" and "roads"?. Much has been made in preached retreats I've attended of the difficulties that Mary and Joseph expe-rienced in the journey from Nazareth to Bethlehem. Now if such is the point of so composing that place, it doesn't apply to the other composition mentioned here. But I don't think it is the point. 1 think the point is not content but process. Ignatius knew that something happens inside us when we not only imaginatively put ourselves in a place, but actually imagine ourselves getting there. We are, somehow, more there than if we had begun simply by imagining ourselves there in the first place. In the process of coming, we become present. Ignatius follows a similar process in the three points that he gives us for the contemplations of the Second and Third Weeks: "to see the persons . " "to hear what they are talking about., . to look at what they are doing . " Most people I have asked assume that Ignatius simply wants us to see, hear and understand what is going on in every scene, that it was only the exigencies of getting this down on paper that dictated his separating the three operations into "three points." If you think about it for a minute, though, he could have found an easier way of doing this, if he wanted to. But perhaps he didn't.I Perhaps Ignatius was again bringing us "closer from a distance," this time from outer to inner space. There is a certain kind of knowledge that we acquire simply by observing people across the proverbial crowded room. It ~The separation of the three operations" is particularly marked in the contemplation on the Incarnation where one might have expected Ignatius to direct us to see, hear and look at the persons.on the face of the earth, and then the Three Divine Persons, and then our Lady. Instead, he so constructs the points that he groups the persons together under the separate operations. On the other hand, as an indication that you can't push this thesis too far. he, for some reason not clear to me, changes to the wording of the Second Point in the contemplation on the Nativity from his usual "to hear" to "look, mark and contemplate what they are saying." ¯ Small Beginnings / 839 may be that we gaze more intently when it is only through that one sense that we receive data. It may be that there is in all of us a tendency towards a certain voyeurism, the unobserved observer looking at those who reveal themselves precisely because they don't know that they are being observed. At any rate, when we move close enough also to hear what is being said, we are also moving closer to inner space. We learn something more and different about people than what we learn by merely watching them. It is not only the words that we listen to; it is the quality and tone of voice, inflection, and phrasing. And all of these things are revelatory of the self within; all of them deal "out that being indoors each one dwells," as Hopkins says. But it is in the third point that we arrive at the heart of the matter, as it were. Ignatius tells us to "look at what they are doing," and the way he explicates that in every case makes it clear that what he is after is not another act of imaginative seeing, but an understanding, an entering into the inten-tions, the affections--the hearts--of those we are contemplating: "the Divine Persons . . . working out the most Holy Incarnation . . .; Our Lady . . . humbling herself and giving thanks to the Divine Majesty . . ."; Our Lord being born, "that He may die on the Cross; and all this for me." We have been led, if we have followed the process, from sense knowledge to heart knowl-edge, from outer distance to inner closeness. Consider again Ignatius' meditation on Hell, which can and does present formidable difficulties to present-day directors and retreatants. Many think it more effective to meditate on Hell by considering interior states such as alienation, despair, loneliness and hatred, rather than "great fires, wailings, howlings, smoke, sulphur, dregs, etc." Well, in the first place, I think that lgnatius is on sounder ground, theologically and anthropologically, in not passing over the part played by our body in reaping the bitter fruits of sin that it has helped to sow. And though he doesn't psychologize our suffering too much--too soon, he does bring us inside ourselves in an astute way, and he does this through our bodies. We are directed, it is true, to see the fire, to hear the cries and blasphemies, to smell the putrid things. But when it comes to the sense of taste, we are told to taste, not rotten food or rancid drink, but ourselves: "bitter things, like tears, sadness, and the worm of conscience." In this case, we move from outer to inner through that sense which is, in a way, most inside us. Finally, there is that intriguing little device that we are counseled to use by the Third Addition. "A step or two before the place where I have to con-template or meditate, l will put myself standing for the space of an Our Father . " So often we no more plunk ourselves into our prayer chair than we plunk ourselves also into the cave at Bethlehem, or into the heart of the Trinity. No, at the very outset of prayer, Ignatius has us bring ourselves, physically and spiritually, through a tiny vestibule, no bigger than "a step or two away" or "the space of an Our Father." Now, what does all of this have to say, apart from the fact that, in my 1141~ / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1981 experience, these devices work? Having said it all, I want to emend one of my original statements. Ignatius' insight is profound, but it is not strictly and merely "psychological." The insight underlying all of these devices has to do not just with the workings of our psyches, but more precisely with the work-ings of body and soul on each other, more precisely, with the organic unity of the human person. On another level, presuming that I am right about what is going on in these instances, that Ignatius is directing us to follow a carefully constructed process, these reflections also say something about the value of using his text as it is. And they suggest that, when The Exercises are accommodated, some explicit attention ought to be given to constructing a process designed to achieve the same results. The Charism of Poverty Robert Faricy, S.J. Father Faricy also wrote "By His Wounds," which appeared in the issue of May, 1979, as well as other articles. He continues to teach at the Gregorian University; Piazza della Pilotta. 4; 00187 Roma, Italy. Poverty can be considered as a vow, as an interior psychological state, or as a gift. Religious poverty, at the most profound level, is a charism; it is a special gift from the Lord before it can be a response to the Lord's love--because it is precisely the gift, the charism, of poverty that empowers me to respond to the Lord's love by living my commitment to him and to be poor for him. Poor With Jesus Poor The gospel text about the rich young man refers to the counsel of poverty and stands as the classically cited passage concerning the vow of poverty. "Jesus said to him: 'If ~,ou would be perfect, go, sell what you possess and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me'" (Mt 19:21). This fits with Jesus~ general teaching on poverty as a Christian value: "Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust consume and where thieves break in and steal, but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven . For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also" (Mt 6:19-20). "It is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven" (Mt 19:24). "The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field which someone has found; he hides it, and goes off happy, and sells everything he owns and buys that field" (Mt ! 3:44). The most important words in Jesus' invitation to the rich young man are, "Come, follow me," and they should be understood in the context of Jesus' 841 1142 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1981 teaching on discipleship: "If anyone wants to be a follower of mine, let him renounce himself and take up his cross and follow me. For anyone who wants to save his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it" (Mr 16:24-25). The Christian virtue of poverty, then, consists of renouncing self, taking up the cross, and following Jesus. But there is, beyond the general call to a certain poverty, at least interior, and to the cross, a further call, a call to go further and to give more. This call Jesus addressed to the rich young man. Like all Jesus' invitations, it calls, and it empowers to respond. The power to answer the call to a radical poverty, to a special following of Jesus on the way of the cross, is the charism of poverty. Not all Christians are called to this kind of poverty, to this radical way of being poor with Jesus poor. But some are. And the power to live out the answer to that call is the charism of poverty. As a charism, poverty enables me to serve the Lord with a special freedom. I am free to serve him in an apostolate that earns a good salary, or a small one, or that earns nothing at all. Money and material advantages do not determine my choices in serving the Lord. And so the charism of poverty "builds up the body of Christ" i:n that it frees me more for service. And, further, it relates me in a particular way to Jesus, making me his disciple in chosen radical poverty, in the poverty of the cross. When Jesus dies on Calvary, he has nothing. Not only does he die without any material possessions at all, but he dies stripped of all honor, of all dignity, of all respect. He dies, not like a common criminal, but more shamefully, like an uncommon criminal; he dies, not just rejected by his own people, but outside the framework of civilized society, on a hill outside the gate~ outside the city, cut off from human society. Subjected to extensive and horribly severe torture, both physical and psy-chological, he finally dies without composure, without a vestige 'of human dignity, feeling utterly abandoned even by God and crying out to God, "Why have you abandoned me?" The gospel accounts of Jesus' death are strikingly laconic. The Church had no crucifixes for hundreds of years, until the shock could be assimilated; the shock of the terribleness of Jesus' death. So too, the charism of poverty takes one beyond just material poverty freely chosen, lived out voluntarily. The charism of poverty associates one intimately with Jestis in his passion and death, crucifying one to the world and the world to him (see Ga 6:14). "1 have been crucified with Christ" (Ga 2:19). It frees me from ambition for honors, for applause, for attention from others. The charism of poverty acts as an antidote for that malady thai has beset professionally religious people since the scribes and the pharisees and before: the need for na'rcissistic feedback. ~ The charism of poverty empowers me to be poor with Jesus poor, poor materially and poor interiorly, stripped of everything, for love of Jesus who calls me. Religious poverty is not, then, some kind of stoical pragmatism, a streamlining for service. It does free me for service. But beyond that, and more The Charism of Poverty / 1143 importantly, it relates me in love to Jesus who laid down his life for me. Poverty and Liberation , One of the fruitful insights of the Latin American theology of liberation is that religious poverty frees me to become one with those who live in oppres-sive poverty; it enables me to enter into solidarity with the downtrodden, the suffering, the poor, the marginal people who, with Jesus, are "outside the city," outside respectable human society. 1 can see Jesus in them, the least of his brothers and sisters. And, united intimately in love with Jesus, I enter into a fraternal solidarity with the most oppressed, the poorest, the most marginal of his brothers and sisters. I find Jesus most clearly and distinctly in the most needy--in the retarded, in prisoners, in the .very ill--whether physically or mentally or both, in the outcasts and the severely troubled and poorest of the poor. Not that entering into solidarity with those who have nothing is my motive for living poverty. The motive is love. The motive is Jesus, who calls me in love to respond to his love for me. This loving response, made in the power of his Spirit, leads me to live out religious poverty; and it leads me to a preference for the poor. The gospel preference for the poor stands at the hea'rt of Jesus' teaching; it runs through the Acts of the Apostles and Paul's letters; and it holds the thematic center of the letter of James. In his public life Jesus goes to the oppressed, eats with whores and publicans, heals the sick, raises up those who are brought low. This gospel preference for the poor is, always, an apostolic priority. To be poor with Jesus mear~s to be poor with the least of his brothers and sisters so as to participate in Jesus' mission of redemption, a mission he always understood as applying to this life as well as to the next. "He has sent me to bring the good news to the poor, to proclaim freedom to captives and recovering of sight to the blind, to set free the downtrodden . " (Lk 4:18). The charism of poverty empowers me to go to Jesus in the poor and~the needy and the oppressed, because I can give up everything for him,. because lam free to love him and' to serve him in the downtrodden, the outcasts, the marginal people. This freedom that the charism of poverty gives me is, firsi of all and above all, an interior freedom. It takes the form of a radical and thoroughgoing dependence on God, a dependence that looks to the Lord for salvation, for liberation from present difficulties both for myself and for those whom the Lord has called me to serve. The theology of liberation has not always recognized the primacy of pov-erty of spirit, of that interior freedom that has the shape of a total dependence on the Lord. God does save his people, bring them out of bondage, i'edeem them. But this deliverance and this redemption begin, on the part of the people, with crying out to the Lord, with a desperate recourse to the only one who can truly save. The Old Testament event of the Exodus dominates Israel's theology as a 8411 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1981 category of salvation. God frees his people, now and always, just as he did then. Deliverance from Egyptian bondage begins, not with political commit-ment, nor with education, nor with the solidarity of the oppressed, but with the interior poverty that cries out to the Lord. The Bible's oldest passage, directions and a prayer for the temple offering of the first fruits of the harvest, goes like this: The priest shall take the basket from your hand, and set it down before the altar of the Lord your God. And you shall make response before the Lord your God, saying, "A wandering Aramean was my father: and he went down into Egypt and sojourned the~e, few in number: and there he became a nation, great, mighty, and populous. And the Egyptians treated us harshly and afflicted us, and laid upon us harsh bondage. "Th~n we cried out to the Lord the God of our fathers, and the Lord heard our voice, and saw our afflictior~, our toil, our oppression. And the Lord brought us out of Egypt with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm, with great terror, with signs and wonders; and he brought us into this place and gave us this land, a land flowing with milk and honey. And behold, now I bring the first of the fruit of the ground which you, O Lord, have given me" (Dr 26:4-1 I). The New Testament event-category that is analogous to the Exodus, and is its fulfillment, is the death and resurrection of Jesus. Jesus' deliverance from the powers of darkness is his passage from death to risen life. This passage has its beginning in his crying out to the Father, "My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?'~ (Mt 27:46). Jesus uses the opening line of Psalm Twenty-two. as a prayer to express his feeling of being abandoned by the Father, as a prayer of lamentation, an expression of profound poverty, of radical depen-dence on the Father. As a lament, Jesus' prayer expresses not only his own feeling of being abandoned, but also--implicitly--his abandonment into the hands of the Father. Jesus' prayer of crying out to the Lord leads directly to his death--Matthew's words are carefully chosen, Jesus "yielded up his spirit" to the Father, and in Luke's account Jesus cries in a loud voice, "Father, into your hands 1 commend my spirit." This abandonment into the Father's hands is the essence of interior pov-erty. The charism of religious poverty gives me the power to surrender to God, to say "yes" to the Father with Jesus, and in and through him. Jesus' whole life finds its summation and meaning in his death on the cross, because his death, like his life, was a surrender, a "yes" to the Father. "Jesus Christ . . . was not Yes and No; in him it is always Yes. For all the promises of God find their Yes in him. That is why we say the Amen through him, to the glory of God" (2 Co i:19-20). Prayer for an Increase, of the Charism of Poverty We can pray for a new outpouring of the charism of religious poverty: Lord Jesus, I ask you for a new fullness of the charism of poverty. I ask you to reveal to me now my inordinate attachments, my holding on to things or to persons, my .~'richness" that keeps me from saying a more comp'lete Yes The Charism of Poverty to you. I surrender to you my excessive search for material comforts, and what-ever material goods I have that I do not really need to serve you. I surrender to you my excessive need for attention, for acclaim and applause, for narcissistic feedback from others; I surrender all my selfish ambitions, my search for honors, my vainglory and my pride. I surrender to you my possessiveness of those whom I love; teach me to love (mention the names of any person or persons that you tend to be attached to in a selfish or possessive way)freely, leaving others free; teach me to love with an open hand. I renounce the possessiveness in my love for others; teach me to love more and better. And l ask you now for new graces, for new power to live for you, for a new outpouring of the charism of religious poverty. Give me the interior poverty that depends on you and not on the world's acceptance. You say to me now, "lf the world hates you, know that it has hated me before it hated you; if you were of the world, the world would love its own; but because you are not of the world, but I chose you out of the world, therefore the world hates you. Remember the word that I spoke to you: a servant is not greater than his master" (Jn 15:18-20). Teach me, Lord, to enter by the narrow gate that leads to life (Mr 7:13-14). You are that gate, Lord; let me follow you, taking up my cross. For ybu alone, Lord, are my portion. I have no inheritance, for you are my inheritance; I want no possessions, for you are my possession (Ezk 44:28). Amen. The Forgiving What has been burned is burned, but ashes stir to unseen winds and whirlpool into life raised higher than the flames that birthed them to seed the clouds that grow the tender rains. Sister Linda Karas, RSM Mercy Consultation Center P.O. Box 370 Dallas, PA 18612 The Other Side of Humility: Its Clarity and Strength Frederick G. McLeod, S.J. Father McLeod is an associate professor of the Department of Theological Studies at St. Louis University. He resides at 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis. MO 63108. Christian tradition,] particula, rly in its Scriptures and spiritual writings, has set humility on a prominent pedestal. In fact, it extols humility as the foremost of all the moral virtues, even on a par with charity. It proclaims humility as the weapon with which to parry and fend off the deadly enemy of humanity-- pride. It also trumpets humility as the way that those who are on the last rung of life can mount to the top. Yet, it is a virtue whose meaning and importance are still widely misunderstood. If queried, few today, I suspect, would be able to state accurately what it is, and why it is so central to the Christian message and life. Current Views Humility is not a popular'virtue among our contemporaries. For some, it still evokes unease, if not profoundly negative feelings. In the past, when pride was targeted as the number-one enemy, writers and preachers exhorted us to take up the club of humility to beat down our pride. Unfortunately, in the process many also clubbed down healthy self-love--an experience that still rankles in some. ~This tradition is amply documented in the articles on Humility in the Dictionnaire de Spiritual-itb. Vll, 1136-87. and in The New Catholic Encyclopedia, Vll. 234-36. For a popular but some-what dated book on this subject, see Nivard Kinsella. O.C.S.O. Unprofitable Servants (Westminster: Newman Press. 1960). 846 The Other Side of Humility / 1147 Then, too, pithy statements and striking examples from the lives of such spiritual giants as Saints Paul,2 Benedict3 and Francis of Assisi4 were hailed-- often out of context--as offering the ideal attitude that ought to govern our relationships with others. We were urged to consider ourselves as the worst of all sinners and everyone else better than ourselves. To live thus--according to this advice--is to be humble! While respecting the sincerity of the saints and reluctant to question their spiritual wisdom, many today simply confess their Confusion. They do not see how one, especially a saint of the magnitude of Paul or Benedict or Francis, can truthfully claim to be the worst of all sinners. Moreover, to affirm that all others are better than ourselves in all circumstances is patent nonsense. But what is worse, some who have tried in the past to live out such humility are still,~struggling with lingering feelings of an inferiority complex, ls this the lowliness that humility seeks to instill and achieve? in the past, too, humility was the favorite virtue extolled by authority. Though Christ's remarks on humility seem to have been. directed mainly to those with power and authority, hu

Issue 37.1 of the Review for Religious, 1978. ; pies of Discernment According Jesus of N~zareth Culti~atingthe Cegtering Pr yer REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is edited in collaboration with faculty members of the Department of Theology of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. © 1978 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: $8.00 a year; $15.00 for two .years. Other countries: $9.00 a year, $17.00 for two years. For subscription orders or change of address, write REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Robert Williams, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor January, 1978 Volume 37 .Number 1 Correspondence with the editor and the associate editors, 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. Gai/en, S.J.; Jesuit Community; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19131. "Out of print" issues and articles not re-issued as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 North Zeeb Road; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. Review for Religious Volume 37, 1978 Editorial Offices 539 North Grand Boulevard Saint Louis, Missouri 63103 Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Robert Williams, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Miss Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor Review ]or Religious is published in January, March, May, July, September, and November on the fifteenth of the month. It is indexed in the Catholic Periodical and Literature Index and in Book Review Index. A microfilm edi-tion of Review ]or Religious is available from University Microfilms Inter-national; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. Copyright (~) 1978 by Review ]or Religious. Principles for Discernment According to Jesus of Nazareth Br. Jonathan of God and Br. Carith of the Incarnation Brothers Jonathan and Carith reside in the Elias Desert House of the Zion Carmelite Com-munity; R.R. ~1; Garnet, KS 66032. Our age is one of sincere sign seekers unlike the Pharisees and Sadducees rebuffed by Jesus in Matthew 16:1-4. The Pharisees and Sadducees came along, and as a test asked him to show them some sign in the sky. He gave them this reply: "In the evening you say, red sky at night the day will be fight, but in the morning red sky and gloomy, the day will be stormy. If you know how to interpret the look of the sky, can you not read the signs of the times? An evil, faithless age is eager for a sign, but no sign will be given it except the sign of Jonah." With that [the evangelist editorializes rather graphically] he left them abruptly.~ We long, with a deep interior lohging, to know God and to live in his truth. We are the generation that has spawned the Jesus Movement. We have responded, more openly than any previous generation, to the teachings of the Religious East. Titles like Swami, Guru, and Yogi as well as Eastern spiritual practices like Mantra and chanting are becoming well-known in the West. Messianic personalities .have appeared on nearly everyone's spiritual horizon. These wise men from the East speak with persuasion and attract many faithful devotees. All claim to speak the truth and present themselves as ambassadors of God. Religious communities in this climate of sincere aThe New American Bible, (New York: Thomas Nelson, Inc., 1970), p. 1089. 3 4 / Review for Religioas, Volume 37, 1978/I spiritual search have many men and women who feel called to a deeper life of prayer. For superiors this current direction has become an administrative problem by having to replace "good workers'" in now-vacated positions. For the religious seeker it has become a time of painful self-examination. Whether we are attempting to discern the words and actions of a particular spiritual teacher or determine if we have in our religious community a prophet or pious pm'anoid, we will do well to look carefully at the principles for discernment given to us by Jesus himself. Jesus gave ten very clear principles for the discernment of a person's spiritual claims. The principles are found in John's Gospel, chapter 5, verses 27-44.~ The verses are easily divided into two categories: 1) Prin-ciples for judging the person discerning: the subjective element that does come to play in every discerning situation. 2) Principles for discetvdng the person in question: the object of discernment. Since discernment of a religious phenomenon is of ultimate and not relative importance, Jesus was not satisfied with presenting a few static principles applicable by the spiritual and technical man alike. Just as a judge may know the law but lack wisdoml a person seeking to discern a spiritual matter needs more than a set of criteria, even if the norms used are the legacy of a great saint. Jesus insists that the "discerner" begin by scrupulous self-examination. The first set of principles, five in number, are for the purpose of self-discernment. Once the judge can assure himself that he does have the "gift" of discernment, he may turn his attention to the religious question to be reviewed. In testing the spirit of the person being considered, the discerner may use Jesus' second set of criteria, also num-bering five. Principles for Self-reflection The Father who sent me has himself borne witness to me. You have been deaf to his voice, blind to the vision of him, and his word is not continually present in your hearts; that is why you will not trast one whom he has sent (Jn 5:37). FIRST PRINCIPLE Men can recognize that one is sent by God if they are attuned to God and. his voice and vision, and if they continually have his word in their hearts. Commentary A group of teenagers from a street gang are not asked to review a new ballet about to open at the civic auditorium. Promoters of rock music do not solicit opinions from senior citizens. ~The Holy Bible, Trans., Ronald Knox. (New York: Sheed and Ward, inc. 1956), pp. 91-92. New Testament section. Principles fi)r Discernment According to Jesus of Nazareth / 5 With no reflection on teenage gangs or the aged, the pollsters are honestly judging the inability of these groups to evaluate the situations validly. According to this principle of Jesus a person must know God in more than an intellectual manner. He must know God and not only know about God. To put it in thi~ eloquent phraseology of the Carmelite hermit, William McNamara, "He must know the God of theology, not just the theology of God." You pour over the scriptures, thinking to find eternal life in them (indeed it is of these I speak as bearing witness to me) but you will not come to me to find life (5:39). SECOND PRINCIPLE Men fail to trust one as coming from God when they interpret scripture in a static way. Or when they subject gcripture to their own mind's inter-pretation. Commentary This is the problem of fundamentalism. Fundamentalism had tripped up many in the time of Jesus: "'The pharisees and scribes approached Jesus with the question: why do your disciples act contrary to the tradition of our ancestors?" Fundamentalism is the problem that has subdivided Chris-tianity. It is a problem we in the Catholic-Christian tradition, flatter our-selves in having overcome. We have become erudite in scriptural exegesis and are long removed, from the narrowness of the Inquisition. But who among'us can say that we look at reality without our limited personal perspective? Who among us is so egoless as to welcome in an unbiased manner God's messengers? I do not mean that I look for honor from men, but that I can see you have no love of God in your, hearts (5:41). THIRD PRINCIPLE Men fail to trust one as coming from God when they have no genuine love of God in their hearts. Commentary Just as "loving" our offspring by insisting that they become doctors may be a subtle form of self-glorification, so a .person's sincere love for the organization or institution can be a real bloc to God's plan of salvation. If the "temples" of our work are to be destroyed by a genuine loving response to a messenger of God, then we must have faith that better structures will be raised up in "three days." The demons that darken our vision in this area are the ones that Jesus suggests can be expelled only by copious prayer and fasting. 6 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/1 I have come in my Father's name and you give me no welcome, although you will welcome some other if he comes in his own name (5:43). FOURTH PRINCIPLE We welcome men with credentials from other men and fail to recognize a man who comes from God. Commentary When Saint Peter of Alcantra went to the bishop of Avila to seek his approve! for Theresa of Jesus to open a convent with no "fiked income" he. was rebuked and turned away because he was speaking poor economics. Francis of Assisi needed an introductory letter from ,Bishop Guido to see the pope and the intercession of a cardinal to keep him from being dismissed summarily. We are all beginning to realize that an academic degree does not tell us the degree of real knowledge, wisdom, a person has. The amount of technical information to which an individual has been exposed is indicated by a degree. True knowledge cannot be earned or discerned by degrees. How should you learn to believe, you who are content to receive honors from one another, and are not ambitious for the honor which comes from him, who alone is God (5:44). FIFTH PRINCIPLE Men fail to recognize a man from God when they look for honor from men only instead of being anxious for God's honor alone. Commentary This needs little comment. We are all wounded deeply in this area. Human respect is a serious problem. We all relate with the sentiment of Cardinal Wolsey: "IfI had but served my God as faithfully as I have my king, I now would not be naked to my enemies." Principles to Discern the Man from God As the Father has within him the gift of life, so he has granted to the Son that he too should have with him the gift of life (5:26). FIRST PRINCIPLE The man of God gives life like God gives life. Commentary The holy men of the East state it in this way: A flower filled with honey need not wear a sign to attract bees. The type of life referred to here is the kind Principles for Discernment According to Jesus of Nazareth / 7 we have the privilege of witnessing in the life and work of Mother Theresa of Calcutta. We stand in awe of the miracle of her activity but we are believers like Thomas. We have seen so much evidence of God's work in her life. Blessed are they who first commissioned her to respond to her "call within a call" and go live as the poorest of the poor. Many of us might have looked upon her proposal as a bit too idealistic. I cannot do anything on my own authority. I decide as I am bidden to decide and my decision is never unjust because I am consulting the will of him who sent me not my own will (5:30). SECOND PRINCIPLE A man from God does nothing on his own authority, only on God's, thus he is never unjust. Commentary The men and women who refused to cooperate with the "justice" of the Third Reich because of higher laws are the kinds of individuals seen operating under this principle. Acts done as an obedience to God, by interior realization or e.xternai vision, may contradict man's law but not the Law of God. Although Theresa of Avila seemed disobedient to her local superiors the day she opened her first convent of the then incipient Carmelite Reform, she had acquired permission from the pope and local ordinary. Theresa, also, had the support of her ardent admirer, the General of the Order, Fr. Rossi.3 The father., has also granted him the power to execute judgment (5:27). THIRD PRINCIPLE A man from God judges wisely. C6mmentary Wisdom is a gift that transcends technical thinking. Solomon's wisdom befuddled the two women seeking the custody of the child but the intuitive conclusion to which Solomon came did lead to justice. The words of the wise will often confuse those of us lost in our heads. All of life is mystery yet we want to "understand it." The wise person does understand by transcendir~g his thinking, limited and ego-filled, and begins to see reality through the eyes of God. 3The history of the Carmelite Reform of St. Theresa is immensely complex. For further reading see: Journey to Carith, Peter-Thomas Rohrbach, O. C. D. (Garden City, New York: Dou-bleday and Company, Inc., 1966), Chapter V., and The Carmelites, Joachim Smet, O. Carm. (Darien, Illinois: Carmelite Spiritual Center, 1976), Vol. II., Chapter If. I~ / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/1 lfl t'estify on my own behalf, that testimony of mine is worth nothing; there is another.who testifies to me, and I know well that the testi-mony he bears me is worthy of trust. You yourselves sent a message to John, and he testified to the truth (not that I depend on any human testimony; it is for your own welfare that I say this) (5:31). FOURTH PRINCIPLE A man from God gets testimony from holy men and from God, not from any human testimony. Commentary When it comes to discerning a spiritual person the otherwise hackneyed expression takes on a certain profundity, "it takes one to know one." The example of Peter of Alcantra's witness to the worthiness of Theresa of Avila as described under the commentary of section four of the first, set of principles is applic~.ble here. But the testimony ! have is greater than John's; the actions which my Father has enabled me to achieve, those very actions which I per-form bear me witness that it is the Father who has sent me (5:36). F~F'rn PRINCIPLE A man from God performs actions that are greater than a man can do on his own. Commentary Use Mother Theresa of Calcutta as a present day example of this principle in operation. The growth of her community is precisely the phenomenon that it is because it occurs in an age of vocational depression. Her efforts to sustain the efforts of thousands of Missionaries of Charity from alms alone, refusing any fixed 'income, is an economic miracle. Of simple peasant stock, Mother Theresa has been received as royalty by pontiff, prelates and presidents. Her resources she claims come to her on her knees. Rejecting the benefices of men who wish to tangle her work in red tape, Mother Theresa clings with childlike confidence to the only Benefactor she really trusts. The crowds were divided over the issue of Jesus. Some maintained "he is a good man" and others felt he was misleading the people: They were unable to comprehend how his knowledge surpassed his slight formal religious education. Some went so far as to voice the question: "When the Messiah does come, can he be expected to perform any greater signs than this man?" (Jn 7:31). We believe Jesus did come from God but many of his, and our, contemporarie's did or do not. It is grace that makes us free enough of our own perception of reality to believe that God, who is infinite, Principles for Discernment According to Jesus of Nazareth / 9 manifested himself in toto, in the finite son of Mary. Many of life's givens have been challenged, some taken away. Less of us are certain that those who cry, "the end is near" are mad. Living in a time of technological chaos and intense spiritual confusion, with salvation being offered us in monasteries and marketplace, how do we know who spi~aks with God's authentic voice? A sincere use of the principles given us by the Master will assure u~ of knowing whom he has chosen to represent him and to whom he has entrusted the words of etei'nal life. "Give beauty Retreat's End back., back to God" (G. M. Hopkins) I give you back this pure, full mountain morning, all leaping, blue as robins' eggsr here at Isaac Jogues where giving feeds, feeds the air. I give you back but keep the love, this gentlest affirmation of my need. Each moment as a specially-cared- for now, a nest of robins' eggs that could be eagles-- each one I give you back, but heart-wise I go down this mountain slowly, though light with love, renewed fidelities. I do not look back; the heart has eyes that memorize such mornings. Mary Enda Hughes, S.S.N.D. College of Saint Joseph the Provider Clement Road Rutland, Vermont 05701 Cultivating the Centering Prayer Thomas Keating, O.C.S.O. Abbot Keating's article is based on talks given at "Advanced Centering Prayer Workshops" given at his abbey, St. Joseph's, Spencer, MA 01562. A practical method of contemplative prayer based on the Cloud of Un-knowing, developed by Father William Meninger and called "Centering Prayer," has been made available by means of tapes, workshops sponsored by the Religious Life Committee of the Conference of Major Superiors of Men, and the increasing number of retreats in different parts of the country designed to communicate this method. An introduction to the Centering Prayer by Father Basil Pennington appeared in the REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS in September, 1976. His book on the same subject, Daily We Touch Him, was published by Doubleday in March, 1977. In any form of prayer, listening, waiting, attending to God have an important place. This article deals with the kinds of thoughts that occur in the silence of listening and gives some indication of how to deal with them. How we cope with unwanted thoughts is of crucial importance since it affects the quality of prayer, its refreshment, and the presence or absence of tension. Considerations proposed in this article in reference to the prac-tice of Centering Prayer, therefore, may be applied, in a manner adapted to it, to one's own preferred form of prayer. Centering Prayer Centering Prayer is a renewal of the traditional prayer of the Church leading to contemplation. It is an attempt to present it in an up-to-date format and to put a certain order and method into it. This prayer is not meant to replace all other kinds of prayer. But it puts all the other kinds into 10 Cultivating the Centering Prayer / 11 a new perspective. It centers one's attention on God's presence within and moves on to discover his presence everywhere else. Thus it is not an end in itself, but a beginning. It is not to be done for the sake of an experience, but for the sake of its fruits in one's life. Here is a parable that points to what is happening in this prayer. There was a little fish who swam up to his mother one day'and said: "Mummy, what is this ocean I hear so much about?" She said to him, "You stupid little fis!! It's all around you and in you. Just swim up onto the be~ch and lie there for a while and you'll find out." Another time, there was a little bear who walked up to his mother one day and said: "Mummy, what is this air I hear so much about?" She said to him, "You stupid, little bear! It's all around you and in you. Just stick your head in a pail of water for a while, and you'll find out." Finally, there was a certfiin beginner in the spiritual life who was having a hard time. One day he went up to his spiritual director and said: "What is this God I hear so much about?" , The spiritual director should not, of course, say to him, "You stupid little novice! He's all around you and in you." But he is supposed to be able to tell him what to do to discover and experience this reality. Centering prayer is one way of doing this. By turning off the ordinary flow of thoughts, which reinforces one's habitual, way of looking at the world, one'.s world begins to change. It is like turning a radio from long wave to short wave. You may be used to a long wave set and the stations it picks up, but if you want to hear stations from far away, you have to turn to the other wave length.' In similar fashion, if you turn off your ordinary thought patterns, you enter into a new world of reality. To do this systematically, take up a position that will enable you to sit still Close your eyes. Half of the world disappears, because we think most of what we see. Then slow down the normal flow of thoughts by thinking just one thought. Choose a sacred word of one or two syllables with which you feel comfortable. It will be the sign of your intention to open yourself interiorly, to the mystery of God's enveloping presence. Keep thinking this sacred word. When you become aware that you are off on some other thought, gently return to this word. As you go to a deeper level of reality, you begin to pick up vibrations that were there all the time but not per-ceived. This broadened perspective gives you a chance to know both your-self and God in a new way. ' Method Our ordinary thoughts are like boats sitting on a river, so closely packed together that we cannot see the river that is holding them up. We are normally aware of one object after another passing across the inner screen 12 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/1 of consciousness: thoughts, m~mories, feelings, external objects.¯ By slow-ing down that flow for a little while, space begins to appear between the boats. Up comes the reality on which they are floating. The prayer of Centering is a method of directing our attention from the boats to the river on which they are resting, from the particular to the general, from the concrete to the formless. At first you are preoccupied by the boats that are going by. You become interested to see what is on them. You must train yourself to let them all go by. If you catch yourself becoming interested in them, return to the sacred ¯ word you have chosen, which expresses the movement of your whole being toward God who is present within y.ou. A familiar gesture of devotion consists in placing the palms of the hands together with fingers pointing upward. It is meant to express the movement of our body and soul toward God. All our faculties are gathered together and pointed toward God by this gesture. That is what the sacred word is trying to say. It is a pointer. The wofd itself can become vague or disappear. It can be only an impulse of the will. But it points one's whole being to God. Quieting the Mind Various kinds of thoughts may come down the stream of consciousness when one starts to quiet one's mind. The appropriate response is a little different for each. The most obvious are the superficial thoughts that the imagination grinds out because of its natural propensity for perpetual mo-tion. These should be treated like the weather which you just have to accept. The important thing is not to pay any attention to them. They are like the noise in the street which floats through the window of an apartment where two people are carrying on a conversation. Their attention is firmly directed to each other, but they cannot avoid hearing the noise. Sometimes they reach a point where they don't notice it at all. At other times the honking of horns may distract them momentarily. It would be useless to get in the elevator and g6 downstairs and tell the people on the street to shut up. You would have to discontinue the conversation, and you might not be able to take it up again where you left off. The only reasonable attitude is to put up with the noise and pay as little attention to it as possible. In this way you give as much of your undivided attention as circumstances allow to the person with whom you are conversing. The second kind of thought occurs when you get interested in something that is happening in the street. A brawl breaks out and attracts your curiosity. This i~ the kind of thought that calls for some reaction. Here is where returning gently to the sacred word is a means of getting back to the general loving attention you are offering to God. It is important not to be annoyed with yourself if you get involved with these interesting thoughts. That would be a great mistake, because any annoyance or any curiosity that you give in to is another thought, and that takes you farther away from the Cultivating the Centering Prayer interior silence which is the proximate goal of this prayer. Interior silence is always going to be relative. It is important not to reflect on what is happening while doing Centering Prayer. You can do that later. While in this prayer, dedicate the time to interior silence. Silence As we sink into deep peace and then silence, a third kind of thought may arise. Something in our nature--or maybe it is the devil--starts fishing. Brilliant intellectual or theological insights or what seem to be marvelous psychological breakthroughs, like tasty bait, are dangled in front of our minds and we think, "If only I can remember this fantastic insight!" But acquiescence to some beautiful or illuminating thought long enough to remember it afterwards will bring you out of the deep waters of silence. Any thought will bring you out. A very delicate but intimate kind of self-denial is necessary in this prayer. It is not just an experience of rest and refreshment--a sort of spiritual cocktail hour. It involves the denial of what we are most attached to, namely, our own thoughts and feelings---our very selves. This kind of asceticism goes to the very roots of our attachment to our superficial egocentric selves and teaches us to let go. It is the most thorough kind of self-denial, but also a delightful kind. Self-denial does not have to be afflictive to be effective. It is a question of choosing the best kind of self-denial and working at it. This is not the time to think about praying for yourself or somebody else. You can do that at another time. The basic principle for handling thoughts in this prayer is this: whatever thought, feeling or experience attracts your attention, always return to the sacred word. A thought can be anything you notice--inwardly or out-wardly. Even if you should have an overwhelming experience of God, this is not the time to think about it. As you quiet down and go deeper, you may come to a place that is outside time. Time is the measure of motion. With few or no successive thoughts, you may experience the time of prayer passing like the snap of your fingers. "It certainly did not seem like half an hour." As you settle down to deep peace and inner freedom from all thoughts, a great desire to reflect on what is happening may arise. You may think, "At last I am getting some place?' Or, "This feeling of peace is just great." Or, "If only I could make a mental note of how I got here so that I can get back to it whenever I want!" These are good examples of the fourth kind of thought. In deep tranquillity you are offered a choice between reflecting on what 14 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/1 is going on or letting go in faith. If you let go, you go to deeper silence. If you reflect, you come out and have to start over. There will be a lot of starting over. The presence of God is like the atmosphere we breathe. You can have all you want of it as long as you do not try to take possession of it and hang on to it. Nothing is more delightful than the divine presence. For that very reason we want to carve out a piece of it and hide it in the closet for safe-kee. ping. But that is like trying to grasp a handful of air. As soon as your fingers close over it, it is gone. The presence of God does not respond to greed. It has a different dynamism. It is totally available, but on condition that we freely accept it and do not try to possess it. This prayer is communion with the Spirit of God who is charity, pure gift. The possessive instinct in us wants to hang on to what is good for dear life and the tranquillity is so good and brings such a deep sense of security that the temptation to hang on is very great. But let it go. Accept each period of Centering Prayer as it comes, without asking for anything, having no expectations. In that way its fruits will grow faster. We always want to possess. That is why it is so hard to let go, why we want to reflect on moments of deep peace or union in order to remember how we got there and thus how to get back. But charity is non-possessive. It gives all back to God as fast as it comes. It keeps nothing for itself. The tendency to reflect is one of the hardest things to handle in deep prayer. We want to savor the moment of pure joy, pure experience, pure awareness. But if you can gradually train yourself to let the temptation to reflect go by,just like any thought, you will pass to a new level of freedom, a more refined joy. We are accustomed to think we do not experience something until we express it in a thought. It is difficult to be childlike, to enjoy what is happening and.forget it when it has passed--to savor the immediacy of reality. Reflection is one step back from experience. It is a photograph of reality. As soon as you start to reflect, the experience is over. Reflection on joy is an attempt to possess it. Then it is lost. This method of prayer is a t~-aining in self-surrender. It teaches us by our own experience and mistakes not to be possessive, but to let go. If in this prayer you can get over the inveterate habit of reflecting on what is going onnhave peace and not think about having peace--then you will have learned how to do it. Interior Purification There is a fifth kind of thought which arises in Centering Prayer. Any form of meditation or prayer that transcends thinking sets off the dynamic of interior purification. This dynamic is a kind of divine psycho-therapy. The experience facilitates the coming to consciousness of one's motivation Cultivating the Centering Prayer and evil tendencies, and sometimes enables the organism to release deep rooted tension in the form of thoughts. Generally, thoughts Which are the result of this process arise in the mind when one is most at peace, without one's knowing where they come from or why. They may introduce them-selves wih a certain force or even with an emotional charge. Once again, the best way to handle them is to return to the sacred word. If you can once grasp the fact that thoughts are not only inevitable, but necessary as part of a process of healing and growth initiated by.divine grace, you will be able to take a positive view of them. Instead of looking upon them with negative feelings as distractions, you see them in a broader perspective that includes both silence and thoughts--thoughts that you do not want or accept, but which, for the purpose of inward purification, are just as valuable as moments of profound tranquillity. Conclusion Take everything that happens during the periods of Centering Prayer peacefully and gratefully, without putting a judgment on anything, and just let the thoughts go by. It does not matter where they come from, as long as you let them go by. Don't worry about them. Don't fret about them. Don't judge the prayer on the basis of how many thoughts come. Simply follow the fundamental directive. When you are interested in a thought, either positively or negatively, return to the sacred word--and keep returning to it. This is fulfilling the Gospel precept to watch and pray. It is a waiting game to the nth degree. All through the Prayer of Centering your mind will be in and out of deep silencemlike a balloon floating in the air on a calm day. Just when it seems to be sinking and about to touch the earth, along comes a little zephyr from nowhere and up goes' the balloon. So it is with our consciousness. You should pick up the sacred word at whatever level you find it--a simple impulse of your will may be sufficient. Then you can go back into silence without delay. If you get angry--"O, I wish my mind would keep still!"--then you get thrown out farther. You must be non-judgmental about particular experiences of this prayer. The only way to judge it is by its long-range fruits: whether in daily life you enjoy greater awareness of the presence of God, greater peace, humility, and charity. Having come to deep silence, you see more clearly your capacity to relate to others at the deepest level, to pass beyond superficial appearances like social status, race, nationality, and personal characteristics. To know God in this way is to perceive a new dimension to all reality. The ripe fruit of this prayer !s to bring back into the humdrum routine of ordinary life, not just the thought of God, but the constant awareness of his presence beyond any concept. He Who is--the infinite, incomprehensible, ineffable Onemis the God of faith. In this prayer we are asking, "Who are you?"--and waiting for the answer. We Are No Longer Strangers. Ecumenism, the call of all Christians, is especially the apostolate of the Atonement Fathers who annually prepare special materials for the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity. along with their many other works. We present here two of the articles thus prepared which we deem of. special interest to religious. Contact: Rev. James J. Gardiner. S.A.; Graymoor Commu-nications: Graymoor/Garrison, NY 10524. Ecumenism- Source of Confusion or Renewal? Kenneth G. Stofft, S.A.* In 1889 a Southern Baptist pastor and editor proposed that "'representative men and competent scholars" from the churches come together to "con-sider the: differences of belief from the Bible standpoint." Thomas Tread-well Eaton was convinced that, even though scholars could not agree on all points, they could at least establish some agreement and clear the field of "much useless and cumbersome rubbish" impeding Christian reunion. This piea was taken up the following year by the Southern Baptist Convi~ntion in Fort Worth, Texas. Approvingly, the convention suggested that othe~ denominations appoint representatives to study together the biblical teaching on those points of doctrine and ecclesial government over which the churches were divided. At least, said the convention delegates, this concerted study could help achieve "a better understanding of the issues involved." In addition to the joint study, it was proposed that the *Father Stofft is Staff Officer in'ihe Office for Ecumenical and Interreligious Affairs of the Roman Catholic Archdiocese of Oklahoma City, Oklahoma. 16 We Are No Longer Strangers results of such deliberations "'be Widely published in all denominational papers, so that the Christian public may be thoroughly informed" and that "progress may be made toward true Christian union" (see Proceedings of the SBC, 1890, Atlanta, GA: Franklin Printing House, 1890, page 22). Even though the pleas of Eaton and the Southern Baptist Convention of 1890 were generally ignored by the churches and communities, the prin-ciples espoused were continually taken up by lone voices who attempted to keep the evangelical call for Christian unity before the ecclesiastical public--no matter how small that public became. The cali for '~a better understanding of the issues involved" in Christian divisions was reiterated by a small group of missionaries who ushered in the ecumenical movement at the turn of the century. The suggestion by Eaton that "competent scholars, . . consider the differences of belief from the Bible standpoint" Was recognized and officially affirmed by the Roman Catholic Church dur-ing the early part of the Second Vatican Council in 1963. The need to keep the Christian public "thoroughly informed., that progress may be made toward true Christian union" has been one of the major aims of the annual Week of Prayer for Christian Unity (January 18-25), as well as of the national and international dialogues between the churches and Christian communions. Because of the pioneering vision of men and women like Thomas Treadwell Eaton and the Southern Baptist Convention of 1890, the biblical call for "conversion" through Christian unity is gradually being realized before our eyes in the present decade of human and ecclesial history. But has this perennial call become the source of unwarranted confusion among the churches or a true renewal of mind and heart for the sake of mission? As each Church tradition has reluctantly or enthusiastically entered various stages of renewal (liturgical, scriptural, ministerial), Christians have also entered a period when confusion, rath+r than a clean perception of renewed life and ministry in .the Spirit, seems to have grasped them. It is sometimes difficult to distinguish between what is an historical accident or custom of Church life, and what is primary and essential to Christian belief and life. The ecumenical movement began with a di~dication to the scriptural mandate to witness to all nations concerning the saving work of God in Jesus Christ. However, the movement has grown in strength and credibility because, of its critical, historical eye toward the past and present, having firmly placed its precarious future within the will of the Father through prayer, patient study and continued shared ministry for the sake of the Gospel. The 1978 Week of Prayer for. Christian Unity (January 18-25) has for its theme: "We are strangers no longer" (Ep 2:12-22). In this passage from St. Paul's Letter to the Church at Ephesus, the apostle from Tarsus stresses the need for the Church to ground its faith in Christ Jesus, its foundation. Review,for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/1 Within the Church we are no longer strangers, because we form together the household of God, are saintly citizens, and rise up as the building whose foundation is the Risen One. Since we are no longer strangers to one another, nor to the Lord, we are presumably fellow saints who understand the issues having to do with our household. If this simple fact is not reflective of reality, or even close to our daily lives, then perhaps we are treading on dangerous ground and following the way leading to confusion, rather than renewal. Scholars of our various traditions and communities have attempted to examine both the truths we hold in common as followers of the Lord and the numerous differences in understanding these truths which characterize us as distinct "churches." These same scholars have passed on their research and findings to church officials for examination and dissemination to the wider community of the Church. We are requested to examine the results of these national and international dialogues and ask ourselves: Do these agreed statements re-flect our living faith? The first step toward Christian familiarity has been taken: to consider our differences in light of Scripture. The second step has been attempted: to publicize the progress of these dialogues through denominational media. The third step along the path to an intelligent process of education and renewal has not adequately been taken: to ask, is this our faith? The third step, however, presumes a great deal about church people and churches. It presumes we are familiar with the unique heritage we possess as part of the Church universal, with the inherited gifts we have as churches. Each church or Christian community has its own history but it also shares a common, history with others. Are we familiar-with the development of the Church and churches? Do we appreciate our differences as factors of his-tori~ al development? What binds the Southern Baptist churches to the Roman Catholic Church, for example? What has been the history of our development under the guidance of the Spirit and the pressures of world society? What separates and unites us as part of the household of God, fellow citizens of the saints? An examinatirn of such questions may help to reduce prejudice and confusion and may well achieve in the power of God a renewal, conversion of mind and heart for the sake of mission. A thorough renewal in the light of Scripture and history may aid the people of God in becoming more visibly the Church, in attaining "true Christian union" in close relationship with our. Savior and Lord, who is also our brother and the Son of Man. The historical period we are entering today is critical because it chal-lenges all of us to identify ourselves as "church" in relationship to one another and the Lord. Without educated lay people, religious educators and pastors, the challenge will be a major source of chaos. We must be familiar with our ecclesial history as both the source of our divisions and the oc-casion for our "reunion" in the Spirit for the sake of the Church's identity We Are No Longer Strangers I 19 and mission in the world. Who are we? Why are we who we are? Ecu-menically, we may be able to clear the field of "much useless and cum-bersome rubbish" impeding our "access to the Father" as "fellow citizens of the saints, and members of the household of God." Oo Ecumenical Worship: What Do We Say to the Father? Charles Faul, S.A.* ~n those first "spring-time" days of ecumenical dialogue that followed soon after the Second Vatican Council, I became involved with an interfaith discussion group in my hometown. We knew little about each other and the tone of our discussions, while friendly, was also a good deal defensive. Most of us, in the beginning, felt the need to defend the rituals and doctrines of our particular segment of Christianity. This was natural enough, since we had been raised to believe that our way came closest to what Christ had ordered for his Church. Due no doubt to the breath of God's Spirit;-we gradually came to understand each other better and moved toward the vision of the faith we held in common. Certainly,. some favored a Church centered on sacra-mental life and hierarchical order~ while others favored the primacy of Word and less structure,, but we also learned that words like "Father," "Lord," "Spirit," "Baptism" and "Gospel" had much the same meaning for all of us. Most important, we came to this understanding as we learned to pray with one another. When our lips spoke the words of faith that sprang from our hearts, the commonality of our beliefs became apparent to us all. Ten years or so have passed since that time, and the historians, liturgists and theologians of Western Christianity have Confirmed in their speeches and writings what we discovered in our grass-roots dialogue ~uring the 1960's: the faith that we share as Christians, whatever our denomination, *Brother Faul is a theological student atAtonement Seminary, Washington, DC. 20 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/1 is monumental. ,Our common bonds reach back to the faith of the Fathers of the early Church and to the New Testament. Our traditions vary, of course, but our willingness to rethink our positions has led to some remarkable convergences. The Roman Catholic Church, forexample, has centered much 6f its renewal on the need to rediscover the importance of the Word for liturgical and doctrinal formulations, while, at the same time, the more evangelical churches have developed an ever-increasing awareness of the importance of sacramental life and, in particular, the centrality of the Lord's Supper in the expression of Christian life and witness. Dialogue between the theo-logians of major church bodies has produced statements affirming one another's ministry and express.ing a common view of eucharist and church order. Truly it has been a remarkable decade, but what does all of this mean for the personal and congregational level? We live', work and celebrate not with theologians or liturgists, but with each other. Each of us is that most enigmatic of figures, "the average Christian." The average Christian, how-ever, is the Church of Christ in miniature. The summation of our faith is the faith of the Church, and our worship, its prayer. How then in our joint worship can we express this valuable new insight? The theme selected for this year's Week of Prayer for Christian Unity is~'No Longer Strangers" (Ep 2: 19). It describes the feeling, mentioned at the beginning, that is experienced by those who have come to know that Christians outside one's own tradition are not competitors, but rather brothers and sisters in the journey of God's Pilgrim People. The question, then, is how might our prayer reflect this point of view? First of all, we must understand that all Christian prayer is ecumenical, since we pray to the one Father, in the name of the Lord Jesus, through his Spirit. This is the basis of prayer for all Christians. Thus, whether we pray privately or in a body, with our own congregation or in an ecumenical - setting, we are praying with and for the Church of Christ. We, in fact. come to a deeper sense of the universality of Christ's Church. Second, at those times when we engage in specifically ecumenical wor-ship, that is, when Christians of various traditions come together to pray, we need to recognize the bonds which join us together. We all suffer fiom brokenness and division, not only as a Church, but also as individuals and communities. However, our hope is found in the redemption won for us by Christ, won for all of us, and in the grace of his Spirit poured out freely on each of us. This is the source of any healing that might stem from our common worship. We share the belief that the dying and rising of the Lord is the model of Christian life for each of us. We must die each day to sin, in order to rise, though the grace of God, to a new life. Realizing we need each other's prayer and support in order that God's action in our lives might be fruitful, we come to a deeper sense of the unity of Christ's Church. Ecumenical Worship: What Do We Say to the Father? Finally, when we examine the liturgical heritage of the Christian faith, we can find the practical elements of ecumenical worship. Christians can pray together, not only for eight days in January, but on any and every.day, using the sources common to Christian believers in every age, namely: I) the words of Scripture and the early church writers; 2) prayers of praise, thanksgiving and intercession; 3) the church creeds, especially those com-monly known as Apostle's and Nicene; and finally and most important, 4) The Lord's Prayer which is the model for all Christian prayer. None of these elements is the possession of any one denomination. They are the liturgical inheritance of all Christians. In their usage we come to a deeper Sense of the holiness and apostolic foundations of Christ's Church. In coming together to pray for Christian unity, one group might want to follow the formats suggested for Morning Prayer (Lauds) or Evening Prayer (Vespers) in the revised Roman, Anglican or Lutheran Prayer Books. Another group might wish to use a more flexible structure, such as has developed in the many prayer communities which have sprung up recently. It is not the format that matters, but rather the act of Christians praying together. We must remember that Christ did not organize a discussion group. Heprayed "that all may be one" (Jn 17:21). Mutual dialogue is vital to the future of ecumenism. We must discern, however, that the most important, fruitful dialogue is the exchange between God and the com-munity of believers in Christ Jesus. If we are able to worship together in "Spirit and in Truth" (Jn 4:24), we will have advanced the cause of Chris-tian unity, for we will have come not to lament our divisions, but rather to realize our need for one another as sisters and brothers, "no longer strangers." Integration and the Sacrament of Reconciliation Robert F. Morneau Father Morneau is a frequent contributor to these pages. He resides and teaches at Silver Lake College of the Holy Family; Manitowoc, WI 54220~ Integration is concerned with "putting it all together." This admirable quality is sometimes ascribed to actresses who excel in their art, to pro-fessional athletes who have reached the peak of performance, to persons who live healthy, balanced lives. How common or rare these people are is a matter of dispute. Perhaps most of us could identify, not so much with the integrated universal man of the Renaissance, but rather with the plight of poor Humpty-Dumpty. Like him, all the king's horses and all the king's men cannot quite get us put back together again. The fragmented life of Humpty-Dumpty is a universal image in that all people of every age have had to contend with the realities of division, alienation and anomie. These forces are strangers to no one, though the intensity and longevity of each varies from person to person. Lest we despair in the face of this disinte-grative factor of reality, we must also come to recognize that the process of healing is a significant power in life. The healing process mends and restores persons, relationships and the world. A realistic view of life de-mands that the dialectical nature of division and healing, sin and grace, sickness and health all be fully appreciated for what they are. Despite the fact of disintegration, the Christian vocation has as its goal both individual and communal wholeness: integration in love is God's call to mankind. Our trust and hope is grounded in the Spirit of love who unifies and heals all of life. This love, God's gift of himself to his people, draws us into an intimacy with him that is the core of Christian living. Like a fish in Integration and the Sacrament.of Reconciliation / 2~i water or like a bird in the air, the very existence of the Christian demands the presence of God's love. St. Paul's message to the Ephesians summa-rizes this so well: "To live through love in his Presence." God's love is the source of all integration; living outside that love results in the darkness and estrangement flowing from separation from the source of light and peace. Those who have traveled before us have expressed well the central role of God in human life: the psalmist prayed, "You are my God. My happiness lies in you alone" (Ps 16). Augustine also summarized the nature of true peace: "For thou hast made us for thyself and our hearts are restless till they rest in thee." The succinct call to integration comes from scripture: This is what Yahweh asks of you: only this, to act justly, to love tenderly and to walk humbly with your God (Mi 6:8). Though we smile at the slight understatement ("only this"), the prophet presents a vision of life that is radically simple. The complexity of intricate theologies, the score of duties and obligations, the multiplicity of laws all seem less threatening when we can summarize God's will in terms of being and becoming a just, loving and faithful person and people. These qualities reveal the interiority of integration. Justice leads to peace and oneness, whereas injustice, by withholding from others their proper due, causes division. Love unifies through affirmation and support, thus providing hope to the weary and discouraged, whereas apathy and indifference isolate and separate person from person. Faith, the intimacy of a personal relationship with Christ, is an integrative power shedding light and warmth on the spirit of man, while faithlessness terminates in the despair of meaninglessness. Justice, love and faith are seen as the ingredients of an integrated existence. . The sacrament of reconciliation aims at fostering the vocation common to all of us: to-be-one with God, with others, with the world and with ourselves. As with all the other sacraments, the sacrament of reconciliation makes present God's love and forgiveness in a special way. Through the encounter with Christ, the penitent is offered the grace of healing which helps to put back together again all the spiritual.humpty-dumpties of his-tory, and we are in that number. God's gracious love hurries to friend the deep split within the person which Paul Tillich describes so well: It is important to remember that we are not merely separated from each other. For we are also separated from ourselves. Man Against Himself is not merely the title of a book, but rather also indicates the rediscovery of an age-old insight. Man is split within himself. But the depth of our s.eparation lies in just the fact that we are not capable of a great and merciful divine love towards ourselves.1 1Paul Tillich, The Shaking of the Foundations (New York: Charles Scdbner's Sons, 1948), p. 158. ~4 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/1 It is in Jesus that this divine and merciful love touches our lives to mak~ us whole once again. Integration: Personal and Communal--The HHH Principle The historical pendulum swings violently fl'om one extreme to the other. One period will stress the uniqueness of the individual withoutgiving prop-er attention to the social nature of the person. The rugged individualism of American history is a case in point. Then the pendulum, having reached its one extreme, swings its reactionary way to the other pole. Collectivism and totalitarian ideologies arise to stress the social whole to, the exclusion of individual rights. The twentieth century's political and social theories of fascism and communism are examples of this one-sided mentality. The truth of the maiter lies in the middle: both the individual and the social facets of human existence must be recognized, protected and fostered. Their interdependence and interrelatedness are principles of in-tegral living. Oneness involves both the individual person and the com-munity. The new rites for celebrating the sacrament of reconciliation carefully protect both dimensions. This fact must be kept in mind through-out the following description of.integration. The themes and principles of ¯ integration applicable to the individual are also, by way of analogy, nec-essary for an understanding of communal integration. On the personal level, there are three major elements seeking integra-tion. Anatomically, each of us has a head, a heart, and hands (HHH). Symbolically, these parts of the human body represent the capacity to ¯ know, to feel and to act. In the field of education, the concern for growth of the whole person is spoken of in terms of developing the cognitive, affective and behavioral domains. On a community level, these elements might be described as common beliefs, common sentiments and a common life-style. In~ofar as there i~ harmony (congruence) among these various . components, there is a sense of integration and peace; when these elements contradict each other or are unrelated, the result will be one of varying degrees of conflict and tension. Looking more ~losely at the personal level, we can discover the inter-relationships among the various elements seeking integration. Through cognitive powers we search out the truth, often at a high cost: ¯. who has given up much that he loved and prized and could have retained, but that he loved honesty better than name, and Truth better than dear friends,2 The consequence of living in the truth, as St. John's gospel points out, is that it leads to freedom: the truth makes us free while ignorance en,slaves and issues in fears. We were born to see reality in its deepest dimensions 2John Henry Cardinal Newman, Apologia Pro Vita Sua (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1956), p. 1 I. Integration and the Sacrament of Reconciliation / 25 and to act on the knowledge discovered there. Carl Jung in his autobiog-raphy shares a universal principle that deals with the relationship between knowledge and action: It is equally a grave mistake to think that it is enough to gain the understanding of the images and that kn.owledge can here mak.e a halt. Insight into them must be converted ifito an ethical obligation.3 It is through the cognit.ive capacities of reason and intuition that insights emerge, concepts and principles are formulated, conclusions are drawn and life is lived. Our creeds, constitutions, journals and discoi~rses attempt to i-ecord our mental travels. Though our perceptions are always limited and our articulations fail to capture the fullness of the reality, yet the extent of our knowledge is amazingly vast. The affective domain, symbolized by the heart, takes us into a rich though complex area of life. Feelings, emotions,, urges, tendencies, and drives are terms attempting to describe some of the powrrful and ambig-uous movements of our affectivity. Here it is that joy and sorrow, panic and calm, anxiety and peace .are experienced in degrees which only our unique person can narrate. Because literature claims for her own the mat-ters of the heart, it has universal appeal. So often the literary genius speaks of the affective level: When your own heart's been broken it will be time for you to think of talking.4 "1 do not know at all," said Martin. "'i should have to be in your heart to know.''3 The relationship between the cognitive and affective domain is complex. During certain periods of life a dichotomy exists between the two. (One calculation measured the distance from head to heart to be two light years!) How many Christians. know intellectually that God loves them and is al-ways present to them and yet do not experience this truth in their hearts? Possession of an accurate and sound theology does not guarantee an ex-perience of the heart. With integration between intellectual Conviction and personal affectivity, the distance seems to vanish and there is a mutual support and affirmation. Emerson's insight is profound:. "Our intellectual ¯ and active powers increase with our affection.''~ Truth experienced af-fectively and affections experienced in truth enrich life.7 ~C. G. Jung, Memories, Dreams, Reflections. Recorded and edited by Aniela Jaffe. Translated from the German by Richard and Clara Winston (New York: Vintage Book, 1963), pp. 192-193. 4C. S. Lewis, The Great Divorce (New York: Macmillan Publishing Co., Inc., 1946), p. 97. 5The Best Known Works of Voltaire (New York: The Book Leagu~e, 1940), p. 142. 6"Friendship," Essays of Ralph Waldo Emerson (New York: The Book League of America, 1941), p. 65. 7Two comments might be made at this point. Newman's well-known distinction between real and notional knowledge explains the dichotomy in more academic terms. Secondly, in light of the importance of affectivity in human and spiritual living~ our educational institutions must more systematically attempt to educate the affective area of life as well as the intellectual. 26 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/1 The old line, "Do as I say, not as I do!" draws attention to the third ingredient in personal and communal life, behavior. The question arises: do the words that I speak and the actions I perform truly express what is in my mind and heart? Do I live out my beliefs and values? Disintegration is experienced when a discrepancy exists between what I know to be true intellectually and a life-style that contradicts this truth, or when a dis-crepancy arises between that life-style and what I am feeling at the gut level. Every day life provides examples of such discrepancies: to know that a certain substance (alcohol) is dangerous in certain quantities and yet con-tinue to drink; to prize physical fitness as an important value and yet never take tim~ to exercise; to yearn for intimacyowith a loving God and never take time for prayer. Integration is realized when we channel into behavior our limited time and energy in such a way that this behavior parallels our thinking and feeling. A single stream is formed, a stream that contains truth, beauty and goodness. Integration and the Sacrament of Reconciliation The new rite of the sacrament of reconciliation delineates four basic and essential components: contrition, confession, satisfaction and absolution. These four elements directly foster both personal and communal integra-tion. The sacrament is the means by which the Lord Jesus makes us whole, healing the division within each person and the communal fragmentation resulting from injustice and apathy. The new rite speaks to the head, the heart and the hands, to the whole person. ~ In the new ritual, contrition is described as "a profound change of the whole person by which one begins to consider, judge and arrange his life according to the holiness and love of God" (Ritual, ~6). This is a call to integration, to put our lives together with God's help and to continue to grow in his gracious love. This process of growth implies an openness to God's word which transforms and molds us. It means that, as a pilgrim people, our lives are always in process and stand in need of conversion. Minimal self-knowledge exposes the dark areas of our life where selfishness flourishes and superficial change predominates. The new rite speaks of contrition as something that goes down to the very depth of our person, radically touching our ideas, attitudes and conduct. Integration is only possible at this level. Though conversion is a gradual process involving grace, time and en-ergy, it is not meant to be piecemeal. God calls the whole, person, not just one aspect of life. This realization helps to protect the unity of the person and implies that what affects one area of life will affect, if not immediately at least eventually, every other area. The ritual spells out the process of conversion as it touches upon three components of integration explained earlier: 1) Consideration. We are challenged to use our cognitive abilities to consider how our personal and communal lives measure up to the holiness Integration and the Sacrament of Reconciliation / 27 and love of God. 2) Judgment. After deliberation, we draw conclusions about how to improve our response to God and his will, employing the richness of our affectivity to sustain and give dynamism to that response. 3) Arranging life. Authentic contrition means that our life-style, what we say~and how we say it, the kinds and quality of our relationships, the reaching out to others, must at certain points be adjusted and modified. This broad, panoramic view of contrition challenges both the inner and outer man. The sacrament of reconciliation calls the whole person to turn to the living and true God in hope and fidelity. Confession, the second main component in the new rite, "comes from true knowledge of self before God and from contrition for those sins" (Ritual, ~6). Our sacramental system, concerned as it is with the covenant relationship between God and man, is obviously person-centered. It in-volves our worship of the person of our gracious Father, a deep partic-ipation in the paschal mystery of our Lord Jesus, the giftedness of peace and joy flowing from the Spirit. The trinitarian God is the core of all the sacraments. The challenge is to come to an even deeper knowledge of the living God, and from this perspective, to achieve our true identity. The crucial role of the scriptures becomes obvious in this framework. In God's word we find the revelation of his love and forgiveness; we enter into the rich world of faith. Cognitively we discover the reality of God's love which is the truth that creates freedom. Experiential knowledge of this most central fact necessarily touches the deepest affections of the heart. We are stirred interiorly to respond with our whole lives to this gaze of love. The canticle of Mary is a confession of being loved: My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord, my spirit rejoices in God my savior for he has looked with favor on his lowly servant,a True affective knowledge works its way into the behavioral domain. Our life becomes different; our words and deeds originate from the wellspring of God's mercy and goodness. The confessing of sins will thus involve the whole person: what we know, what we feel, what we have done and will do. Confessing both expresses and promotes integration. Satisfaction or the act of penance is the third important element in the new rite. In a special way satisfaction reaches beyond the notion of per-sonal integration to embrace the larger community. In doing the truth, in correcting injustices, in serving more deepiy, we implicitly call others to witness and experience the newly gained integration of our own lives. The Roman Ritual states: "true conversion is completed by acts of penance or satisfaction for the sins committed, by amendment of conduct, by repara-tion of injury., to restore order"'(Ritual, #6c). Integration implies and aLuke 1:46. 21~ / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/1 necessitates order. Wholeness exists when things are in place just as frag-mentation is experienced in chaos. In a sense, sin is being "out of place." In Gibson's play The Miracle Worker, Annie Sullivan, the teacher of Helen Keller, speaks to herself in a mirror: '~Don't worry. They'll find you, you're not lost. Only out of place." The "hound of heaven" pursues us when we lose our way in the darkness of sin; in being captured by mercy and love, the Lord relocates us in the plan of the Father. For true satisfaction we must be aware and understand that the proper order of things has been broken (cognitive element); we must interiorly feel and be concerned about the anguish and restlessness caused by sin in our lives and the lives of those we touch (affective element); with God's. grace we must reconstruct the harmony shattered by our infidelity (behavorial element). This whole process of reconciliation is no abstract, nebulous role playing; it touches the core of our lives. It is based on fact and experience. Though somewhat overstated, Carl Jung's reflection that "in religious mat-ters only experience counted" does express the seriousness surrounding the sacrament of reconciliation. Satisfaction, the acting out of heartfelt sorrow in°experience, is a vital integrative force restoring that order that leads to justice and peace. Absolution is the fourth main element in the celebration of God's mercy. The new formula of absolution contains a wealth of theology, deserving in its own right a detailed explication. The minister, representing the Risen Lord and the Church, prays: God, the Father of mercies. through the death and resurrection of his Son,. has reconciled the world to himself and sent the Holy Spirit among us for the forgiveness of sins; through the ministry of the Church may God give you pardon and peace. And ! absolve you from your sins in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. The wholb person is drawn to respond to this majestic oration. The mind is nourished with the experience of a merciful God, with the marvel of the paschal mystery, with the fact of the instrumentality of the Church, with the knowledge that pardon and peace are gifts from God, with the under-standing that all three persons of the Trinity heal the sickness of the person. These insights liberate us from false fears and narrow slaveries, enlighten the darkness of our minds and enrich our faith, foster wisdom, allowing us to see what is truly essential and worthwhile. Our affectivity is also nour-ished by this prayer of absolution. Our heart is touched by the revelation of God's love and graciousness, by the joy of reconciliation, by the dis-pelling of anxiety and guilt, by the calmness of peace and pardon. The sacrament intends to soften the hardness of heart and to foster the gen-tleness that alone brings life. Full, active and conscious participation in Integration and the Sacrament of Reconciliation / 29 this encounter with the Risen Lord abets a richer, affective life. Integration proves itself in action and the prayer of absolution necessarily includes Christian living; it touches the transformation of our truths and feelings into words and deeds. The absolution formula provides an example of what forgiveness is, thus challenging us to forgive each other as God forgives us. We are called to participate in the death-resurrection of Christ in our daily lives, dying to our selfishness in being for others. Through the gift of the Spirit, we are empowered to enrich the world by sharing the Spirit's love, joy and peace. Our lives are different when we recognize experientially the price of our sins: the cross. The shadow of the cross calls us to repent and to believe. The prayer of absolution is a prayer leading us to authenticity. It provides the vision that harmonizes our visible life of daily conduct with the new mind and heart we have put on in Christ. Integration and the Holy Spirit The possibility of Christian integration is based on the gift of Spirit. The Risen Lord in union with the Father sends their Spirit into the world to complete the work of redemption. Through the sacrament of reconciliation this work of restoration takes on visibility and becomes efficacious in the lives of those who believe. The Spirit directs us in .our struggle toward oneness within ourselves and among all people. Within the framework of the HHH Principle, we can examine the role of the Spirit in the process of integration. The tradition of the Church points out that there are four gifts of the Spirit that aid the intellectual and faith growth of God's people: wisdom, knowledge, counsel and understanding. Through these "cognitive" gifts we contend with the ever-present forces of folly, ignorance, rashness and dullness of mind. God, coming to the aid of our finite minds, supplements our ability to grasp truth through the personal Light of his presence. The heart, often bruised and broken, also stands in need of special gifts. Through the Pentecost event, fortitude, piety and fear of the Lord are offered as powerfui nutrients enriching our affectivity. Thus we are enabled to stand firm in the face of fear, to struggle valiantly against hardness of heart and acedia, to deal honestly with the arrogance of pride seeking to remove God from the center of life. In the sacrament of reconciliation, these gifts are available with the coming of the Spirit. But discernment is a difficult task ih life. How do we know whether or not we are growing in the Lord? Are we really allowing the mind and heart of Christ to influence our lives? What are the signs of health and illness in our Christian lives? Through the writings of St. Paul, God has given us an evaluation system to aid us in testing the quality of Christian growth. In his letter to the Galatians, Paul spells out the evidence indicating the spirit of evil and the Spirit of God. If the signs of God's Spirit are present, we have some assurance that we are doing the will of the Father and that the gifts 30 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/1 of the Spirit are truly effective in our words and deeds. If the opposite signs are present, we are provided with some hard evidence that we are failing in our Christian responsibilities. Paul writes: But when you follow your own wrong inclinations your lives will produce these evil results: impure thoughts, eagerness for lustful pleasure, idolatry, hatred and fighting, jealousy and anger, constant effort to get the best for yourself, complaints and crit-icisms, the feeling that everyone else is wrong except those in your own little group~ and there will be wrong doctrine, envy, murder, drunkenness, wild parties, and all that sort of thing . But when the Holy Spirit controls our lives he will produce this kind of fruit in us: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gen-tleness and self-control? Conclusion The revision of the sacrament of reconciliation provides the contem-porary Church with a process and vision to bring about the oneness we all desire. Unity is something intrinsic to our lives. William Lynch beautifully expresses this need in every.person: What I want first to propose, as a sort of working point of discussion, is that the very deepest need the pe6ple have is the need for closenenss to, union with, things and persons and God. This principle underlies every need of man. It is not a luxury or a gimmick. It is fundamental, primitive; eternal and universal . Everybody knows, when it is put in his language, that real solitude is hell and that unity is peace)° The sacrament of reconciliation deals directly with that aspect of our life which obstructs and prohibits unity: the reality of sin. The great marvel is that God's love and mercy have conquered sin and death and through the sacrament of reconciliation bring us in touch with this victory of God. A schematic summary of this article might appear as follows: A. God's initiative: the call to justice love (lived out fully in the person of Jesus) faith B. Mankind's response: so much injustice / apathy / faithlessness (mystery of sin) C. Jesus came to reconcile all creation to the Father---continues to come in their Spirit to heal the whole person--to bring about integration Truth overcomes falsity Beauty overcomes ugliness Goodness overcomes evil Head Heart Hand Gifts of wisdom, knowledge, counsel understanding Gifts of piety, fortitude, fear of the Lord Signs: love, joy, peace, patience, kind-ness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control. D. Result: Oneness with the Father through Christ in the Spirit. Wholeness, union, sanctity,' integration. gGalatians 5:19-23. ~°William F. Lynch, S.J. The Integrating Mind (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1962), pp. 134-135. Integration and the Sacrament of Reconciliation / 31 A growing appreciation of the depth and breadth of the sacrament of reconciliation is important if we are to fully enter into this great gift. The revised rite provides us with many advantages: the stress and variety of scripture, the personal touch with the face-to-face option, the emphasis on the communal nature of sin, the demand for authentic conversion, the joyful tone of celebrating God's mercy and love and not getting caught up in oneself. Our challenge is to understand as fully as possible the meaning of the sacrament and to experience its tremendous force in our personal and communal lives. .0 Now Available As A Reprint The "Active-Contemplative" Problem in Religious Life by David M. Knight Price: $.75 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review for Religious 612 Humboldt Building 539 North Grand St. Louis, Missouri 63103 To Make Good Again: A Selected Bibliography on Reconciliation Mary Colurnba Offerman, P,B.V.M. Sister Mary Columba, a librarian, has contributed other bibliographies to these pages. She resides at 2360 Carter Rd.: Dubuque, IA 52001. The word reconciliation evokes many meanings. Its primary meaning is "to make good again" or "to restore." The need of reconciliation pre-supposes that some harmony has been violated or disrupted. Many times man has broken his bond with G~d. Man must choose to be reconciled completely. God's plan for the return to complete harmony involves God himself, man, his neighbor and his community. When God created the universe everything was good. The psalmist tells us that every-thing existed in harmony, peace. Man misused his power to be steward over God's creation. The way to restore peace and unity with God, our neighbor and our world is through repentance, conversion and reconciliation. There are various levels of reconciliation. There is a reconciliation with God and a reconciliation with one's fellowman. Reconciliation for the Catholic Church entails the relationships of the Church with other churches. Reconciliation Within society is required when we have differ-ences due to race, nation, class, degrees of economic and social devel-opment. Every person's life is filled with numerous calls to reconciliation. Oppor-tunities arise daily when we can reconcile with .brothers, neighbors and those around us. Reconciliation begins at home. By turning towards God, our Father, we can become aware of how little we are without him, we can 32 To Make Good Aga. in: A Selected Bibliography on Reconciliation realize the worth of each individual and our own personal worth in his eyes and create situations that promote cooperation and sharing. We can ob-serve God's goodness in all the events of life. The recent Holy Year of 1975 offers opportunities for reflection on those things and happenings that direct us toward Christ and the eternal reward of heaven. We had many occasions to be more concerned with our interior or spiritual life, rather than with the exterior and materialistic things of life. That year of reconciliation called us to promote works of charity, to do penance and to perform works of piety. The Holy Year theme of renewa[ and reconciliation has been an in-vitation to respond to interior renewal in order to become better instru-ments of reconciliation with God, neighbor and the world. By developing a true spirit of joy, compassion and kindness and by using our creative instincts, our love for life and for our fellowmen will contribute to holier years to come. The Church expects much of the religious man and woman. Religious have been urged to reflect on their way of life as this was asked of them by Vatican Council II. We are reminded to persevere in faithfulness to prayer, becoming more perfect followers of Christ and a radiation of joy in carrying the crosses that cannot be separated from our state in life. On each religious community rests its future destiny. The living out of the vows from day to day frees us to be a sign of reconciliation. The ministries of the religious woman have taken many forms. Some are in education, others turn to .nursing and still others perform one of the ministries of service which has emerged recently. The ministry which is chosen will become a healing ministry if the religious is a person of rec-onciliation, deeply rooted in Christ and proclaims him as her Lord and Master. How do we make our ministry h service of reconciliation? By being a peacemaker among the students, parents' and those with whom we work, by being more prayerful, reflecting on the gospels and on spiritual' reading, by showing enthusiasm, uniting our sufferings to those of Christ, by consoling, developing ,a spirit of forgiveness, "to come away from each new grief without bitterness in continuing service, to see no one as an enemy and everyone as worthy of my service. Such are the realities of reconciliation. And they are reflected in thequiet dignity ofa fai.th-filled valiant woman.''1 In an article on teaching children about reconciliation, Rod Brownfield says, "If they come to appreciate more their own worth as friends of God, loved individually for their own lovable selves, if they come to see all the material world as gifts for their use and for their sharing, if they come to appreciate other human beings, as images of God loved by God; if they learn the spirit of awe and reverence for a generous Father; if they come to qennings, Sister Vivien, O.P., The Valiant Woman (New York: Alba House. 1974), p. 33. 34 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/1 want to mend what is broken and right what is wrong; if they can pray as they experience the good gifts about them; if they promote peace among themselves, their religion is a reality, reconciliation is going on and the kingdom of God is nearer.''z This could be our goal and we wou~d be striving to "make good again." Our relationship with God would be renewed or strengthened and all would be right with the world and our conscience. The following selected bibliography has been compiled to provide spiritual reading on the topic of "reconciliation." Methods, ideas, exhor-tations, reflections and worthwhile knowledge on "reconciliation" can be acquired from reading these books and periodicals. Thus Pope Paul's ad-monition "to make good again," to reconcile, to renew, will keep the religious woman in touch with her God, in touch with her Church, in touch with her world, her feliowmen and in touch with herself. BIBLIOGRAPHY Books Abbott, Walter, S.J., ed., The Documents of Vatican 11. New York: Herder and Herder, 1966. Bailey. J. Martin, From Wrecks to Reconciliation. New York: Friendship Press, 1969. Paper. Banks, Robert, ed,, Reconciliation and Hope. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1974. Barry, David W., Ministry of Reconciliation. New York: Alba House, 1975, Paper. Basset, Bernard, S.J., Guilty. 0 Lord, Yes. 1 Still Go to Confession. Garden City, New York: Doubleday, 1975. Burghardt, Walter, J., S.J., Towards Reconci6ation. Washington, D.C.: United States Bishops Conference. 1974. Paper. Elliott, Ralph H., Reconciliation and the New Age. Valley Forge: Judson Press, 1973. Paper. Farrell, Edward, The Father Is Veo' Fond of Me. Denville, New Jersey: Dimension Books, 1975. Chapter 3. Surprised In the Spirit. Denville, New Jersey: Dimension Books, 1973. Chapter 2. Foley, Leonard, O.F.M., Your Confession: Using the New Rite. Cincinnati: St. Anthony Press, 1975. Paper. Guzie, Tad, What the Modern Catholic Believes About Confession. Chicago: The Thomas More Press, 1974. Paper. Hanson, Michael. O.M.I., and John Maronic'. O.M.I., The Pilgrim's Prayerbook (Holy Year Edition). Belleville, Illinois: Shrine of Our Lady of the Snows, 1974. Pages 25-32; 211-217; 237-287. Haring, Bernard, C.S.S.R., Prayer: The Integration of Faith and Life. Notre Dame, Indiana: Fides Publishers, 1975. Chapter 14. Harkness, Georgia, The Ministry of Reconciliation. New York: Abingdon Press, 1971. Paper. ZBrownfield, Rod. "'The Holy Year That Wasn't,'" The Catechist. IX, No. 3 (November, 1975). 9. To Make Good Again." A Selected Bibliography on Reconciliation / 35 Hellwig, Monika, The Meaning of the Sacraments. Dayton: Pflaum-Standard, 1972. Paper. Hessel, Dieter T., Reconciliation and Conflict: Church Controversy Over Social Involvement. Philadelphia: Westminster, 1969. Paper. Hinnebusch, Paul, O.P,.Friendship In the Lord. Notre Dame, Indiana: Ave Maria Press, 1974. Chapter 6. Praise God! Denville, New Jersey: Dimension Books, Inc., 1972. Chapter 6; Chapter 23. Hunter, Gordon. When the Walls Come Tumblin' Down. Waco, Texas: Word Books, 1974. Jennings, Sister Vivien, O.P., The Valiant Woman. New York: Alba House, 1974. Chapter I; Chapter 4; Chapter 7. Nelson, John, Dare to Reconcile: Seven Settings For Creating Community. New York: Friendship Press, 1969. Paper. Nouwen. Henri, With Open Hands. Notre Dame, Indiana: Ave Maria Press, 1972. O'Reilly, James, Reconciliation and Renewal. Chicago: Franciscan Herald Press, 1974. Powell, John, S.J. He Touched Me. Chicago: Argus Communications, 1974. Paper. Rabalais, Sister Maria, Come Be Reconciled; Youth Penance Resources. Paramus, New Jersey: Paulist Press, 1975. Schillebeeckx, Rev. Edward. O.P. Sacramental Reconciliation. (Concilium Series, Volume 6), New York: Seabury Press, 1971. Sisters of the Presentation, Witness to Love. Dubuque, iowa: Mount Loretto. 1977. Page 24. Stuhlmueller, Rev. Carroll, C.P., Reconciliation: A Biblical Call. Chicago: Franciscan Herald Press, 1975. Paper. Tibbetts, Orlando L., Reconciling Community. Valley Forge: Judson Press, 1969. Torrance, T., Theology In Reconciliation. Westminster, Maryland: Christian Classics, 1975. Van Kaam, Adrian, C.S.Sp., Spirituality and the Gentle Life. Denville, New Jersey: Di-mension Books, 1973. Periodicals Abeyasingha, N., "'Penance and the Holy Spirit." REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, May, 1974, 565-573. America, "'1975: Holy Year of Reconciliation," America, January 11, 1975, 2-6. Baumer, Fred, "'An Hour of Reconciliation," Liturgy. August/September, 1975, 227-231. Bernas, Rev. Casmir, O.C.S.O., "' Reconciliation In Paul,'" The Bible Today. December, 1973, 1395-1400. Brungs, Robert A., S.J., "'Reconciliation: Man-the-Maker and Man-the-Made," Theology Digest. Winter, 1974. 324-333. Bryce, Sister Mary Charles, O.S.B., "'Reconciliation Means Change," Modern Liturgy, February, 1977.8-10. Callahan, William R., "'Reconciliation," National Catholic Reporter, May 16, 1975. 7-8. Cranny, Rev. Titus, "'Renewal, Reconciliation and Christian Unity," Onr Sunday Visitor. January 12, 1975. I. Deutsch, Sister B., "Operation Fervor," Today's Catholic Teacher. February, 1975. 40. Du Charme, Jerome and Gall, "Introducing Young Children to the Experience of Recon-ciliation." Modern Liturgy. February, 1977, 12-13. Every, Robert L., O.P., "'Theology of Reconciliation." Emmanuel. October. 1974, 404-41 I. Fitzgerald, Frances, "'Vietnam Reconciliation," The Atlantic.June. 1974, 14-28. Galluzzi, Alessandro. "Reconciliation Is Main Motive For Holy Year," L'Osservatore Romano, June 28, 1973, 2. Hatton, Sister Vianny, "'The Communal Rite of Reconciliation," Folk Mass and Modern Liturgy, January, 1975, 12-14. Jolliffe. P,, "'Prayer and Christ's Reconciliation," The Way, January, 1975, 66-76. Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/1 Joyce, Sister F., "'Reconciliation and the Teacher," Today's Catholic Teacher. February, 1977, 14, Krol, J. Cardinal, "'Human Rights and Reconciliation," Dimension. Winter, 1974, 148-151. Lynch, J. A. "'Meditation On Reconciliation," Sisters Today, January, 1975, 273-280. Maly, Rev. Eugene H., "'Haggadah,'" The Bible Today. October, 1975, 484-489. Miffletori, Rev. Jack, "'Rites and Lefts of Reconciliation," Folk Mass and Modern Liturgy. January, ~975, 23-26. Mossi, Rev. John P. S.J. "'A Reconciliation Service," Folk Mass and Modern Liturgy, January, 1975, 28-29. "Reconciliation Sevices For Children," Folk Mass and Modern Liturgy. August?September, 1975.25-26, North, Robert, S.J., "Yore Kippur and the Jubilee Year of Reconciliation," Theology Digest, Winter, 1974, 346-59. Notebaart, Rev. James, "'Symbols of Reconciliation." Folk Mass and Modern Liturgy, Janu-ary, 1975, 6-8. Paul VI, "'The Duty of Reconciliation," L'Osservatore Romano. April 18, 1974, I I. __, "Essential Characters of the Holy Year, Central Theme Is Reconciliation." L'Os-servatore Romano. May 17, 1973, 3. __. "'Human Rights and Reconciliation: Statement of Pope Paul VI and the Fathers of the 1974 Synod of Bishops," The Pope Speaks. Winter, 1974, 216-220. __, "'Peace Depends On You, Too," The Pope Speaks. Winter, 1974, 352-354. __, "'Reconciliation With God," L'Osservatore Romano. November 8, 1973, I. __. "'Renewal and Reconciliation," L'Osservatore Romano. June 14, 1973, I. Purdy. William, "'Holy Year and Reconciliation." L'Osservatore Romano. July 26, 1973, 10. Russell, John F., O.Carm., "'Reconciliation a Reflective Expression," Spiritual Lift,. Summer, 1977, 67-72. Saulnier, Rev. William P., "'Reconciliation: Let It Begin With Me," Modern Litargy. February. 1977, 8-10. Schaeffler, Sister Janet, "'Reconciliation Is Growth." The Catechist. November, 1975, 10-11. Schall, James, V., S.J., "'On the Mosl Dangerous Virtue." REVIEW FOR REI,I~OUS, November, 1974, 1301-1308. Seelaus, Vilma, "'Contemplation/Reconciliation/Inner Freedom," Spiritual Life, Summer, 1974.99-105. Senior, Donald, C.P., "'Resurrection and Reconciliation," The Catechist. Winter, 1974, 346-360. Seromik, Gary, "'The Holy Year: Renewal and Reconciliation." The New Covenant, January, 1975, 6-7. Stuhlmueller, Rev. Carroll, C.P., "'Reconciliation With the Old Testament," The Bible Today, October, 1975, 473-484. Wenz, Jack. O.F.M., "'The Cost of Reconciliation: An Interview With Anthony Padovano," St. Anthony Messenger, December, 1974, 14-19. Winiarski, M. "'Reconciliation Assailed, Upheld," National Catholic Reporter, May 13, 1977, 12. Bird With a Broken Wing: Christian Mysticism and Ministry Mar~ Ellen Dougherty, S.S.N.D. Sister Mary Ellen is director of novices for the eastern province of her community, in an interprovincial novitiate in Hinsdale. For this purpose, she is on temporary leave of absence from Notre Dame College in Baltimore where she is associate professor of English. Her present address: 427 S. Clay St.; Hinsdale, IL 60521. In his book A Third Testament, Malcolm Muggeridge says of the con-troversial personality William Blake that he was "sane to the point of sublimity." Blake, considered by some of his contemporaries to be mad and by others to be a mystic, was an early Romhntic English poet and visual artist who reported ea~;y dialogues with the spirits of Socrates, Milton, and Voltaire. At the same time he had the simplicity to urge his readers: To see the Word in a Grain of Sand ¯ And Heaven in a Wild Flower Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand And Etei:nity in an hour. Indicating Blake's creativity and originality, Muggeridge narrates the following incident: On another occasion, he told a visitor he had a great rarity to show him. This turned out to be "a naked figure with a strong body and a short neck--with burning eyes which long for moisture, and a face worthy of a murderer, holding a bloody cup in its clawed, hands, out of which it ~seems ea~ger to drink." "But what is it?" his visitor asked. "It is a ghost, sir," Blake replied. "The ghost of a flea~a spiritualization the thing!" Whether Blake was mystical or mad (o.r both), debates about him do suggest some of the standard tensions about mysticism. In current society, 37 31~ / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/1 sanity is one thing, sublimity another. Fleas do not have ghosts. As a result of lived history and the statements of Vatican II to religious, monastic traditions in most apostolic orders have diminished. There has been, concommitantly, an increasing emphasis on service. Many religious orders, at one time known for a single apostolic commitment, now embrace multiple commitments. Dress, daily orders, life-styles are frequently and often wisely subordinated to apostolates. There is a fresh and creative view of the needs of the Church. Ministry is a command. Any simple analysis of apostolic theology would indeed be simplistic. The practical effects are complex, and their reverberations are not totally without irony. For example, while contemplatives sometimes struggle to justify their existence to themselves, members of apostolic orders con-sistently apply for transfer to the cloister. Contemplative groups experi-ment with appropriate ways to expand a ministerial dimension, while apos-tolic religious seek credible ways to circumscribe activity with prayer. In this, there is more than just an intimation of the traditional contempla-tion- action dilemma. There are implicit questions about the authenticity of mysticism in this apostolic age. We return again to fleas and ghosts. Recently in the Chicago Tribune a cartoon entitled "The Now Society" featured a young man and woman seated casually at a cafe table. She is saying to him, "Oh sure, I've felt funny a couple of times, but I can't honestly say I've had a mystical experience." In popular concept, mysti-cism is often characterized by a withdrawal from reality. It is connected with everything from marijuana to sunsets. Even among serious thinkers, it is somewhat suspect as a way of prayer for a Christian, especially for apostolic religious. I have met more than one competent spiritual director who will not encourage directees of apostolic orders to contemplative prayer, even when they are so inclined, on the grounds that it is generally incompatible with their responsibilities. This, it seems to me, is a mis-understanding of contemplative prayer. In his book The Still Point William Johnston, S.J., speaks of Christian mysticism. He says: ¯ . . in the long process which precedes the canonization of a Christian saint, the Church never asks about the profundity of his enlightenment or the depths of his mysticism, but only about his practice of heroic charity; traditionally, mysticism is valued only as a means to something more imporlant--namely, the charity which is the center of the gospel message. When this charity expresses itself in mystical experience (that is, when the love of God becomes so violent that it drives the soul down into its very center in mystical darkness and existential abandonment of thought), then it is inestimably precious. On the other hand, he says, "Granted this . everyone must recognize that deep contemplative prayer is indeed a way (and perhaps the best way) to Christian charity . " The purpose of this article is not to describe the contemplative ex-perience that Father Johnston speaks of. There are numerous experts, Bird With a Broken Wing including Father Johnston, who do this well, namely Thomas Merton, and Evelyn Underhill, as well as more traditional writers like Tanqueray and Poulain, and, of course, saints like Theresa of Avila and John of the Cross. The purpose here is to suggest some of the practical effects of Christian mystical prayer, whether it is occurring in the life of a contemplative or an apostolic religious, to show that it is a way to the active "charity which is the center of the gospel message," to indicate that sanity and sublimity can coexist. Here, then, references to mysticism are meant to apply to the Christian tradition, not to other forms of mystical prayer. Mystical prayer as a way to ministry is verified if we look at the lives of those whose mysticism is judged by history and the Church to be authentic. If we focus not so much on their experiences in prayer as on the fruits of their experiences (their practices of heroic charity), we will see that they are concerned not with looking or sounding like mystics, or even with being mystics, but with acting out of their experiences, in accord with some call to service. St. Theresa of Avila, for example, steadily confirms this. As she grew in mystical graces, she grew in active service to the Church, and to her Order. One has only to read the works of St. Theresa to see that she is an assertive, energetic woman. Throughout her writings she integrates steadily emotional response with idea and daily experience. Unlike her companion mystic, St~ John of the Cross, whose prose is as austere as his message, and whose poetry is charged quietly with passion (and who, in his own life, apparently integrated the two), Theresa is never a writer of academic prose, or a poet. She is a narrator of the spiritual life whose warmth and intelli-gence fuse into an explication of mystical experience that is as loosely personal as it is loosely objective. She says in her autobiography ". sometimes love makes me foolish." In her prose we read of the pain, the joy, the humor of this foolish lover. We read, too, the history of mystical prayer as Theresa knew it, as well as the history of an active woman who believes firmly, as she tells us in the Interior Castle, that "what the Lord desires is works." Theresa's mission was to reform. And so she did. Theresa took the Carmelite habit at the Convent of the Incarnation in Avila at the age of twenty-one. It was approximately twenty years later that she experienced her first visions and locutions (after, as she tells us, going for the first fourteen years as a religious unable to pray without a book). In her early forties, then, she experiences mystical graces with some regu-larity. It is interesting to note that it is at this same time that she first engages in discussion about the reform of her order. It is at the age of forty-seven that she establishes the daring (and some might say devious) foundation of the convent of St. Joseph in Avila, a beginning that was to launch significant reform in religious life in the Church. At the age of fifty she completes the final version of her autobiography (written, as most of her works were, under obedience), and she begins The Way of Perfection. Both of these 40 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/1 works, especially the second, reflect a woman of deep contemplative prayer, and the recipient of significant, mystical graces. 'They lack, how-ever, the clarity and totality about the mystical life that is evidenced in The Interior Castle. It would seem fair to assume that between the composition of The Way of'Perfection and The Interior Castle Theresa's own experi-ences in prayer matured and expanded, so that clarity and totality were possible. The latter work is a portrait of a mystic Who has experiential knowledge ofeverything from the prayer of quiet to. the spiritual marriage, and who is thus able to order her observations in readable fashion. It is in this~work that she tells us, quite practically, that."perfection consists not in consolations but in the increase of love," and that "love exists not in the extent~of our .happiness but in the firmness of our determination to try to please God." It is here thb.t she. reminds us that "God's will is that no bounds should be set to his works." Theresa, herself, during these years, set no bounds. It was at this time, the interim betwee.n, these written works, that the bulk Of her endeavors for. reform occurs. In The Interior Castle Theresa says, '.'When I think of myself, ! feel like a bird with a broken wing . " Nevertheless, before her death at the age of sixty seven, this bird with the broken wing was responsible for the foundation of more than a dozen Reform convents; she served several terms .as prioress; she acted unofficially as spiritual director for many priests and sisters (for women in those days the role had to be unofficial); she was the author of several solid volumes on the spiritual life. And she was a mystic. One could do a similar, profile of St. John of the Cross, to the same effect. He died at the age of forty-nine, after a full life as a 6ontemplative. A prolific and profound writer, he is better known as mystic than he is as theologian, reformer, spiritual director and confessor, administrator. And yet it was these tasks that consumed his energies, that accounted for his imprisonment, poor health, and untimely death. An"accomplished poet ,whose lyrics reveal the mysterious rhythm of his spirit, he was also a writer 6f practical pros~e. He was capable of mystical poetry that was ap-propriately elusive and at the same time concrete: When the breeze blew from the turret Parting his hair He wounded my neck, With his gentle hand . He was also the author of stark precepts: "Endeavor to be inclined always not to the easiest, but to the most difficult; not to the most .delightful, but to the harshest; not to the most gratifying, but to the less pleasan,t; . desire to enter into complete nudity, emptiness, and poverty" . .I.n poetry and precept, he, too, knew that what the Lord desires is works. ¯ St. Ignatius of Loyola, another man of action~ demonstrated, too, the compatibility between mysticism and ministry. Unlike the Carmelites Bird With a Broken Wing / 111 Theresa and John whose actions seemed to flow from their mysticism, Ignatius' mystical experience, it seems to me, emerged from his action. In all three of these saints, there was, nevertheless, a mutuality between prayer and service. On a more contemporary scene we have Thomas Mer-ton who~e last years, and last books, suggest, too, a proportionate growth between contemplation and outward reach. The point seems evident. An authentic mystical experience does not begin and end in itself, nor does it begin and end in self and God. While a genuine encounter of this sort will, as St. Theresa tells us in the sixth mansion of The Interior Castle, create an ambivalence (on the one hand, the soul seeks much solitude; on the other "it would like to plunge right into the heart of the world . ") the final option is usually for service. In the seventh mansion, the ultimate of the mystical life, St. Theresa says of mystics, '~They have now ari unusually strong desire to serve Him . So what they desire.now is not merely not to die [the "delectable pain" of the sixth mansion was accompanied by a desire for death, and thus union] but to live for a great many years and to suffer the severest trials, if by so doing they can become the means whereby the Lord is praised." To "become the means" is perhaps what Christian mysticism is all about. Itis what prayer is all about. Whatever methods God chooses to use in cultivating us as his ~means is not the issue. Whether our prayer is like the songs of Blake on his deathbed ("They're not mine, you know. They're not-mine,''~ he said, implying, again, a current of mystical grace), or whether our prayer is the solid, structured meditation of prelude and point does not matter. Whether we are contemplatives seeking to clarify our service, or apostolic religious trying t.o deepen our action by prayer, perhaps does ri'ot matter either. It seems as erroneoog to say that all mysticism is an evasion of reality as.it is to say that we are all c~alled to be. mystics. Service is no more a contradiction in the life of a Christian mystic than mysticism is in ¯ the life Of an apo.stolic religious. History defies such.myths. It seems clear that while Christian mysticism ~s alw_ays characterized by service, Christian service need not be rooted in mysticism. It seems, clear, too, then, that the most practical of us in. the Church today have nothing to fear from an increase of Christian mysticism. That would mean, in effect, a fear of an ¯ increase of charity. In the contemporary drama "The Belle 6f Amherst," Julie Harris re-cords sensitively the insight of another poet, Emily Dickinson (no less eccentric than Blake)as she listens intently to a.warbler on a bush. Emily asks, "Why are y~ou singing, when there is no one here to listen?" The. warbler replies, "I was born to sing." With this, Ern, ily is affirmed as a poet. Watching the bird in flight, she says, "I, too, was born to sing.'" And so it is with each of us, whether we sing (or pray) as warbler or poet. Ministry in the Church and a Structural Concern for Justice Francis X. Meehan Father Meehan is Associate Professor of Moral Theology at St. Charles Borromeo Seminary; Overbrook; Philadelphia, PA 19151. Much has been written recently about theologies of social concern. This article is not an effort to review those theologies. Rather it aims simply to point out some very mainstream considerations on social justice as it per-tains to the Church. Its original context was an ecumenical gathering of Church leaders, and this revision attempts to keep a focus on those social insights that are by now practically consensus teaching. In any consideration of the Church and social justice one must start by citing both the clear problem and the challenge. The problem surely is that we have not been as outstanding as we should have been. Barbara Ward in a booklet written for the Vatican Commission Justice and Peace speaks of guests who are invited to the banquet but have other things to do. She then touches upon the key problem for Christians in developed societies; namely, the problem of not being exposed in any concrete way to massive poverty and of therefore not developing a prophetic voice. She says: In this general climate of indifference, the Christian does not yet stand out as prophet or catalyst. All too many of us aresimply relatively fortunate citizens who., are not exposed to the massive, growing miseries at the base of the world society. We are proving, if proof were needed, that it is very difficult for wealthy societies, like families or individuals, to get through the eye of the needle (The Angry Seventies, p. 61). 42 Ministry in the Church and a Structural Concern for Justice The Challenge Barbara Ward as an economist devoted to human life has given an example of single-mindedness. Throughout her wril~ing she remains hope-ful. She knows well the challenge yet she sees no reason why the Christian community cannot be a worldwide "catalyst of energy, devotion and re-form." She articulates the challenge in a way that sets the focus of this paper: ¯ . . if, then, with courage and persistence and the energy of true hope, Christian citizens are ready in season and out of season, to lobby legislators, rally voters, instruct fellow citizens, worry the indifferent, encourage the active and create a new kind of justice and world responsibility in the Church and in the nations, the world may be saved from the evident wrath to come (pp. 62-63). Notice she asks for a new kind of justice and world responsibility in the Church. Thus she speaks not merely of giving food to a hungry man, but of "lobbying legislators" and "rallying voters." If we take a look at official Church teachings over a long range, we can see in this past one hundred .years one broad and obvious evolution. It is a movement that is very well summarized in that key article of the Pastoral Constitution: The Church in the Modern World, that underscored social concern: Profound and rapid changes make it l~articularly urgent that no one, ignoring the trend of events or drugged by laziness, content himself with a merely individualistic mo-rality. It grows increasingly true that the obligations of justice and love are fulfilled only if each person . . . promotes and assists the public and private institutions dedicated to bettering the conditions of human life (n. 30). It is fitting that such words should be in a document concerned with the Church's relation with the world. For here, too, there is an evolution of awareness. The Church's moral concern gradually becomes, in the social documents of the last century, not only a concern over individual salvation, but also over the collec.tive future. She recognizes that certain structures of history are man-made and that Christians therefore must have a respon-sibility not only for individual men, but also for structures of history. The Church must not be worldly, but she is in the world and has a responsibility for the world. Perhaps such an evolution could be understood by pointing to one man's autobiography as a metaphor. I think the life of Thomas Merton capsulizes a whole movement of the Church. This journey of the Church is symbolized so very aptly by Merton's monastic journey. It has often struck me that his own evolution as a monk said something to us about a model of holiness in the Church of our day. A recent thesis by Sister Elena Maltis makes this point more systematically.~ She cites Merton writing, in his early work, Waters of Siloe: ~"Thomas Merton: Symbol and Synthesis of Contemporary Catholicism." Critic, Spring, 1977, pp. 26 ff. 44 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/1 It [monastic life] takes a man above the terrors and sorrows of modern life as well as above its passing satisfactions. It elevates life to a superhuman level to the peace of the spiritual stratosphere where the storms of human existence become a distant echo and do not disturb the center of the soul--no matter how much they may rage in the senses and the feelings (p. 28). Then she cites the later MertOn who, in his workFaith and Violence, writes with different images of the monastic life: My :own peculiar task in my Church and in my world has been that of the solitary explorer who [instead of jumping on all the latest bandwagons.at once] is bound to search the existential depths of faith in its silences, its ambiguities, and in those certainties which lie deeper than the bottom of anxiety. It is a. kind of submarine life in which faith sometimes mysteriously takes on the aspect of doubt.when, in fact, one has to doubt and reject conventional and superstitious surrogates that have taken the place of faith. (p. 30). Notice holy Mertonno longer conceives of himself as above and beyond the world. He is not in a stratosphere above the terrors and sorrows of modern life, but now, at the bottom of things where the phrase "submarine life" becomes a dominant image. His very spirituality of the 1940's does not cease, but in the 1960's it is a spirituality that takes integrally within itself the role of social criticism. He sums up who we are in the Church today when he says~: That I should have been born in 1915, that I should be the contemporary of Auschwitz; Hiroshima, Viet Nam and the Watts riots, are things about which 1 was not first consulted. Yet they are also events in which, whether I like it or not; I am deeply and personally involved (Contemplation in the World of Action, p. 145). What is central here is not only that a man's spiritual journey should lead him to the welfare of our fellow humans. Indeed this is true of all the saints. But what is central is that now such a spiritual journey leads also to a structural concern for others. Merton is implicated in the world's move-ment. He is, and we are, and the Church is, not only helping others socially in the world as a static theatre, but taking responsibility for the very move-ment of the world itself, for the very milieu of humankind. And the point of this article is that such an hwareness is now flowering in the Church and we ought not to miss it or take it for granted. Perhaps a concrete example will help us see more clearly. In 1830 a French pastor of good will may have courageously preached to factory owners that they must give their wo~kers a living wage. But what he could little understand was what Peter Berger and Thomas Luckman called the "social construc-tion of reality." In other wqrds, reali.ty had been constructed by humans themselves in such a way that ifa converted factory owner did pay a living wage, he would go out of business because of the competition. What was needed was--as we know today--a new construction of reality, namely some empowerment of the workingman through unionization. NotKze that such a new reality had to be created not only to allow workers to achieve . Ministry in the Church and a Structural Concern for Justice / 45 just wages, but also to allow an employer to pay a just wage while remaining competitive. Such an element of structural justice was recognized by Leo XIII when he said in Rerum Novarum that even though someone made an agreement, such an agreement (contract) could be invalid because of the unequal bar-gaining positions. In Leo's teaching we see the beginnings of an awareness in the Church of the meaning of a structural reality in morality. Justice is denied not only by the individually greedy man, but through the inheritance of circumstances embedded in social systems. Application to Ministry In the last eighty years such an insight has developed richly in Church teaching. John XXIII in Mater et Magistra and Paul VI in Populorum Progressio applied the teachings to inequalities inherent in relations with the Third World. There have even been some high points of pastoral ap-plication in the Church. For example it remains the glory of the American Church that she (unlike some of her European sister-Churches) did by and large keep faith with the immigrant workers in her midst. Yet while the insight is old enough to trace to even before Leo, it nevertheless remains a new insight in need of fresh application in many areas of social concern. Most of all it calls for fresh application in the Church's ministry. Ministry must concern itself not only over individual conversion, not only over healing hearts, but also over healing structures. Otherwise the healed heart will be unable to inscribe its fruit of justice on the world itself. In Reinhold Niebuhr's classic terms, "moral man" ~will remain powerless and ineffectual in an "immoral society." The word structure is not always an easy term to understand, It has many meanings in many contexts. A helpful articulation of a meaning sufficient for our purposes here is one given in the statement of the Appa-lachian Bishops. They speak of how the forces of corporate giants become perverted, and destructive growth patterns develop.The principle of ~'max-imization of profit" becomes an idolatrous power. Then they give a clear understanding of what an evil structure does: This power overwhelms the good intentions of noble people, it forces them to com-pete brutally with one another. It pushes people into "conspicuous consumption" and planned obsolescence. It delivers up control to a tiny minority whose values then shape our social structures. Then they point out how difficult it is for good individuals to change things when structures militate against change. We know that there are many sincere business people, zealous reporters, truthful teachers, honest law enforcement officers, dedicated public officials, hard working lawyers and legislators, who try to do a good job. But we know too that, the Way things are set up, it's hard for good people to do a good job. Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/1 Such an insight by the bishops into structural evil corresponds to con-temporary insights into scriptural understandings of the powers of evil. The simple phrase, ~'. the way things are set up, it's hard for good people to do a good job," is a perfect way to describe what theologians today mean by "'the situation of sin." So the power of evil becomes autonomous and embeds itself into structures. These structures entrap us. They tend not to draw good from us but to draw out our worst--sometimes despite good will to the contrary. We have what some see here as one perspective on the original-sin tradition in the Church. Obviously, then, the work of redemp-tion, in which Jesus has given his Body the Church a certain share, must include a healing of this history of sin. Thus the very baptismal function of induction into a saving community implies a ministerial work to heal struc-tures. The Domain of Gospel Ministry and Arthur Simon's Parable The foregoing ushers into focus a problem, namely, how can work for structures remain a gospel work and not merely become a social-secular work. Arthur Simon, the founder and leader of Bread for the World, a Christian Citizens Movement for world food resources, tells a parable that helps us understand this problem of placing work for structures into min-istry. The parable is basically this: Once there was a farming town that could be reached by a narrow road with a bad curve in it. There were frequent accidents on the road especially at the curve, and the preacher would preach to the people of the town to make sure they were Good Samaritans. And so they were, as they would pick the people up on the road, for this was a religious work. One day someone, suggested they buy an ambulance to get the accident victims to the town hospital more quickly. The preacher preached and the people gave, for this was a religious work. Then one day a councilman suggested that the town authorize building a wider road and taking out the dangerous curve. Now it happened that the mayor had a farm market right at the curve on the ~oad and he was quite against taking out the curve. Someone asked the preacher to say a word to the mayor and the congregation next Sunday about it. But the preacher and most of the people figured they had better stay out of politics; so next Sunday the preacher preached on the Good Samaritan Gospel and en-couraged the people to continue their fine work of picking up the accident victims. The parable illustrates what Paul Ricoeur says about man's new aware-ness, namely an awareness of being in relationship with others in structured ways, i.e. not merely as "neighbor" but as socius. Father Chenu, the French Dominican, calls it the.new way of charity. He says that man has always been social, but he adds: Today, not accidentally but structurally the collective event lends scope and intensity to the social dimension--human love treads these lasting paths, these organizations Ministry in the Church and a Structural Concern for Justice / 47 of distributive justice, and these administrative systems (in G. Cottier et al., eds., Eglise et pauvret~, 1965, p. 174). The problem then is very real. When is ministry for life religious and gospel, and when does it become secular? What work for life is natural and what is supernatural? What is gospel and what is humanism? The questions are age-old. And without presuming that the Church today has completely solved the problem, I do think a good part of the answer is already within the Church's official grasp and official teaching. In official meetings and synods, papal and episcopal teachings have addressed the problem and have given us enough of a theological answer to go on. Let us just cite chosen, illustrative texts from the Catholic context. First, the Constitution on the Church in the Modern World has many comments on the subject. But one celebrated sentence is as follows: While we are warned that it profits a man nothing if he gain the whole world and lose himself, the expectation of a new ean.h must not weaken but rather stimulate our concern for cultivating this one . Earthly progress must be carefully distinguished from the growth of Christ's kingdom. Nevertheless, to the extent that the former can contribute to the better ordering of human society, it is of vital concern to the kingdom of God (n. 39). The World Synod of Bishops of 1971 and 1974 both dealt with the problem. The famous statement of 1971 said this: Action on behalf of justice and participation in the transformation of the world fully appear to us as a constitutive dimension of the preaching of the gospel, or, in other words, of the Church's mission for the redemption of the human race and its liberation from every oppressive situation. And in 1974 Pope Paul after citing the danger of losing the religious di-mension of our mission says this: There is no opposition or separation, therefore, but a complementary relationship between evangelization and human progress. While distinct and subordinate one to the other, each calls for the other by reason of their convergence towards the same end: the salvation of man. The continuity of the two Synods is sharply manifested in the Human Rights document of the '74 Synod. There the Bishops used a theology of the Divine Image and taught that the "integral development of persons" makes clearer in man the divine image. Then they say: Hence, she [the Church] believes firmly that the promotion of human rights is required by the gospel and is central to her ministry. Summarizing this brief set of quotes we can say that healing structures of irreverence for life and of injustice is part of the ministry of the Church because such healing is "of vital concern to the kingdom of God" (Gaudium et Spas), "a constitutive dimension of preaching the Gospel" (Synod '71), "required by the gospel arid central to the Church's ministry" (Synod '74). 41~ / Re~iew for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/1 Why take time to cite these examples of official documentation? First, awareness that such insights are now mainstream official teachings will keep us from being intimidated by those who would accuse us of humanism or of becoming social agencies. ' But more than that: it is to underscore that the concern for structural justice and the concern to place the struggle for structural justice within the mission of the Church is not merely a concern of a Daniel Berrigan, of a Helder Camara, or of a Latin American theologi~an, but rather it is official and central teaching within the Church. Most of all it is a matter of rejoicing that such an insight is found not only in official teaching, but is making its way into the popular religious psyche of our.people. At the Eucharistic Congress, when people struggled to touch Mother Theresa, they were struggling to touch, in this case, not someone known for mystic gifts such as Padre Pio, but someone known for simply picking men up offthe sti'eets of Calcutta. But more than that, the people also welcomed Dom Helder Camara. And those who knew his history, knew that his life has been a different struggle from that of Mother Theresa. Dom Helder symbolizes .not just an enormous interpersonal love for the weak, but also the struggle for justice against systems of dependence and exploitation. Dom Helder in the midst of his talk at the Philadelphia Civic Center walked over, picked up and embraced Mother Theresa. I like to think this embrace was more than a kinship of courageous people. Rather I see a symbol of two forms of ministries-in-the-Church meeting and embracing. And in a way, Dom Hel~ler's emphasis is a struggle that poses the most important challenge to Church leaders. His work is less clear, more risky, more apt to provoke misunderstanding even among one's own people, and yet all the more urgent today. The Problem of .Ambiguiiy Yet this ministry .that attempts to heal structures has a special problem connected with it. I would term it the problem of ambiguity. Many Church leaders can agree that gospel includes work for human life and human rights--even structural work. But they rightly fear choosing certain con-crete options that commit the Church to one economic or political view that may riot be the only valid Christian view. The point of Paul Ramsey'.s work Who Speaks for the Church? was to purify us of easy assumptions that the charism of leadership will lead us to right decisions in the complex area of socio-economic and political affairs. So there is a special need for a humility and tentativeness that, in the words of Paul VI, "will rid action of all inflexibility and sectarianism" (Coming Eightidth n. 48). We do not wish to preach our own ideology, but Christ crucified. So we seek to avoid easy partnership. This is a common caution perhaps needed today. But I would like to accent another side to the issue that sometimes Ministry in the Church and a Structural Concern for Justice goes unaccented. Namely, that not always what appears to be neutral ground is really neutral. And sometimes when the Church refi'ains from taking sides in an issue, for fear of partisanship, she sometimes, willy-nilly, by not taking a side has taken a side. Another way of saying it is simply that sometimes our silence speaks loudly. This may not be an everyday occa-sion, but it does happen that situations become radicalized to the point where there just is not ample neutral ground in which a large institution can find room. Historical examples may be easiest here. In the Germany of th~ 1930's was there a political neutral ground? Can we not at least in hindsight recognize that what looked like neutral ground was not so neutral? There was a personal heroism of many priests, ministers and bishops, yet in the episcopal statements of the German hierarchy (in the words of Gordon Zahn) there was "not even a hint of any question, of whether or not the Hitler war effort met the conditions set for a 'just war' " (cited in Paul Hanley Furfey, The Morality Gap, p. 13). Another example. In the bombings of Hamburg of July-August, 1943, the dead numbered 30,000. The raids on Dresden of February, 1945 killed some 135,000. On March 9 and 10 the raids over a four mile residential district of Tokyo are estimated to have killed 84,000. On August 6 and 9 the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki killed an estimated 68,000 and 38,000 respectively. My point here is that the killing of noncombatants was even at that time, clearly recognized as evil. Yet one can find no significant corporate criticism of these actions. Moreover, despite Pius XlI's pleas to statesmen for a negotiated peace, no official Catholic spokesmen gave sustained'protest against the allied policy of unconditional surrender--an omission John Courtney Murray called a "classic example" of a failure to apply moral principles. ¯ A third example concerns racism and segregation in this country. It could be summed up in a symbol. The symbol is contained in the words of Leander Perez, political boss of Plaquemines Parish in New Orleans. He was, you may remember, the man excommunicated for his opposition to the integration of the parochial schools (a courageous act .ot~ Archbishop Rum-mel). But Perez' comment was "How come we could have slaves, separate schools and churches for these Negroes for ages and ages and now all of a sudden it's a sin?" (see Paul Hanley Furfey, The Morality Gap). The point in all of these questions is not historical Monday morning quarterbacking. Indeed even at the time of these incidents there were clear teachings already in the mainstream of Catholic thought--teachings that were not applied. The point is that the Church took stances that at the time m. ay have seemed to be stances of moderation or may have seemed to be prudent neutral ground. But now we know they were not, Rather they appear to have been examples of an immigrant Church so anxious to be " established that it became absorbed in the zeitgeist of the times, and so lost its prophetic voice. 50 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/1 The main point is this: we may be right in our anxiety that the Church not be pulled into partisan blocs, in our anxiety not to provoke undue division in the Church by too quickly identifying one social option as the gospel option. But we must be careful not to allow this anxiety to bring us to a silence that really is an unwitting speaking in behalf of the status quo. There is a corollary to this problem. It concerns the matter of com-petefice. Often times it is stated that the Church or a churchman cannot speak on an issue because it is so complex and specialized. Surely we must be careful of easy and abrupt position-taking in the complex areas of so-ciooeconomics and international politics. But the deeper question must always be asked. Namely why is it that at times we choose certain areas in which to be competent, to research care-fully and to locate manpower and resources and other areas in which we do not? We must always ask ourselves what might be our cultural and theo-logical biases that predispose us to give certain questions a priority. Too many good Germans said they could not protest because, after all, they really did not know enough. Dualisms That Lead to Neglect Sometimes a certain idea about ministry can lead a man of good will to neglect a certain gospel reverence for life. For example, I am sure that the chaplains of institutions in which recent press releases have exposed cruel treatment would be men of good will. But if they observed some of the same things newspaper reporters saw, and if they did not complain in any effec-tive way, we must ask how did they conceive their ministry? What kind of dualisms between soul and body, between spiritual and physical, between creation and redemption must have been going on in their understanding of ministry? Has speaking in behalf of ill-treated mental patients, ill-treated children, ill-treated elderly in profit:making nursing homes, ill-treated pris-oners, ill-treated h