Suchergebnisse

Issue 66.1 of the Review for Religious, 2007. ; ' Spiritu:alilty Perspectives Community Tod:ay~s Saint QUARTERLY 66.1 2007 Review for Religious fosters dialogue with God, dialogue with ourselves, and dialogue with one another about the" holiness we try to live according to charisms of Catholic religious life. As Pope Paul 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 review@slu.edu ¯ Web site: ~w.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious - 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ° Pontifical College Josephinum 7625 North High Street ¯ Columbus, Ohio 43235 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ RO. 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. ©2007 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. eview for religious Editor Associate Editor Canonical Counsel Scripture Scope Editorial Staff l~ebmaster Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer sJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Eugene Hensell 0SB Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp Clare Boehmer ASC Martin Erspamer OSB Kathleen Hughes RSCJ Louis and Angela Menard Bishop Terry Steib SVD Miriam D. Ukeritis CSJ QUARTERLY 66.1 2007 contents prisms 4 Prisms 19 spirituality Aging and Christian Spirituality: Joy and Resignation Matthias Neuman OSB explores two challenges of aging, namel.v, the ability to enjoy and the need of resignation. Dreams in Prayer and Discernment Jennifer Constantine Jackson examines the human experience of dreams as one resource from the Lord that can assist us on ¯ the road to spiritual maturity. Reflection/Discussion Questions 3O perspectives Confessions of a Franciscan Ethicist Rende Mirkes O~'S shows how being Franciscan can and does affect the way she does ethics. Review for Religious 40 58 Reclaiming Hope, Recovering Dialogue Colleen Mary Mallon OP explores dialogical communion, from the writings of the French Dominican Yves Congar, and reflects upon specific practices of discipleship that promise to deepen communal conversion while offering prophetic witness to a global world. Personal Reflection/Group Discussion community Rose Hoover RC says that being together on the inward journey is a subtly rigorous togetherness not to be missed. 64 An Experience of Jesus and His Brothers Robert Schieler FSC describes his congregation's Holy Week retreat in which three provinces saw a happily workable way to be energetically together as one. 74 today's saint Mother's Quest and Bequest: Theodore Guerin's Sainthood Mary Roger Madden SP provides a historical vignette of her congregation's recently canonized American foundress to show the greatness of her spiritual bequest. departments 90 Scripture Scope: The Bible and the Church 95 Canonical Counsel: Bona Ecclesiastica 101 Book Reviews 66.1 2007 prisms Do I want to be holy? When we ask our-selves the question, the answer would seem to be obvious. Since we believe in God and we want to enjoy life forever with God, we are trying to be holy. Probably many of us would find it a bit pretentious to say that right now we are making the effort to be holy. Why is it so off-putting for us to admit simply that we want to be holy? Trying to be holy sounds, well, sanctimonious. We judge that we are priding ourselves on some-thing we are not. We don't want to be people setting ourselves down at the head of the table in Jesus' parable, only to be told to take a lower place. All too often we think that to be holy includes all the things that we are not: unfail-ingly pious, always prayerful, never offensive, and ever patient and long-suffering. Perhaps images like the eyes-rolled-up to heaven, the hands folded, and the pallid face featured in many portraits of our saints hold us off from identifying with holiness. We likely need a reevaluation of what it means to be holy. God is the holy One. If God is by nature holy, then we are not naturally holy. But God calls us to be holy and empowers us to "be holy as I am holy." In the sacramental life, we identify these key empowerments in baptism, confirmation, and eucharist. God the Father, in the identifying of us with his Son and in the gift-ing of their Spirit, has truly made us sons and daughters. Being part of God's family--the ones adopted in Jesus' name--we merit being called holy ones, the saints as St. Paul frequently refers to his fellow Christians in the various churches to whom he writes his letters. Review for Religqous We might believe that we are called to be holy, in fact, that we are children of God. But what we are and how we act might be two different things. What does it mean for us to act like holy persons? Jesus is our way that we come to understand and live a divine holiness. Holiness, above all, is rooted in our love relationship with our triune God in Jesus. By watching Jesus in action, we discover how we are to live and act holily. Let's take some examples that we ordinarily do not associate with holiness. Jesus lives his holiness in his presence and in his participation in parties such as the Cana wedding feast and in banquets of all kinds, sometimes held in houses of those consid-ered public sinners such as Matthew and Zacchaeus and at other times in the homes of his pious "betters"--like Simon the Pharisee. Holiness, we see, is made real and strengthened in enjoying life, like parties and banquets. In all kinds of circumstances, Jesus expresses holiness in breaking the rules--usually surrounding Sabbath obser-vances- because of his compassion and love. Jesus, we see, teaches us that holiness is not to be identified just with "keeping the rules." Priests and Levites--good peo-ple- kept the rules of not contaminating themselves by helping a wounded traveler, but it was the foreigner, a false-believing Samaritan, who acted holily. Jesus says that we must act as one who loves neighbor as oneself. Jesus shows us that holiness grows in the conversations and interactions with all different classes of people, sometimes with people who think quite differently from him--the ways of Jesus' ministering in the gospels. Jesus shows us that dealing with others who think differently from us is a part of our being holy. Simply said, to live holily, as Jesus shows us, is to live an everyday kind of life, graced always by the love of God and love of neighbor. David L. Fleming SJ 66.1 2007 MATTHIAS NEUMAN Aging and Christian Spirituality: Joy and Resignation spirituality Aging, that universal human experience, is one of life's great mysteries. Why the various stages in the human life cycle: infancy, childhood, ado-lescence, adulthood, and old age? Why should human life be like that? Why do we grow up and then slowly break down, piece by piece, until death comes for us? Our creative God could have arranged matters differently. But the real-ity remains that human life, unless tragically cut short, ends with old age, dissolution, and death-- years that people often find extremely troubling. Old age is where aging really hits home. Aging, especially the last phase, "old age," has become a major social issue for many Western countries. The graying of populations looms in many of them as a social and economic issue. The recent report of the President's Council on Bioethics, Taking Care: Ethical Caregiving in our Aging Society, puts it pointedly: Matthias Neuman OSB has written for us often. His pres-ent address is Our Lady of Grace Monastery; 1414 Southern Avenue; Beech Grove, Indiana 46107. Review for Religious There is no question that we are on the threshold of a "mass geriatric society.," a society of more long-lived individuals than ever before in human history. For this great gift of longer and healthier life for ourselves and our loved ones we are, and should be, enormously grateful . At the same time, however, there are good reasons to be concerned about the human and moral shape that a mass geriatric society will take, especially if the "price" many people pay for the added years of healthier life is a period of protracted debility, demen-tia, and dependence stacked up at the end before they eventually die. Such a reshaping of the life cycle will create enormous challenges for nearly every family and for the entire society.! The Catholic ethicist Daniel Callahan pinpoints some of those troubling issues. By 2030 almost 20 percent of the American population will be over 65; the combined costs of Medicare and Medicaid will double; close to half of those over 85 will suffer from some form of dementia. He says: "The projected long-term institutional costs alone, quite apart from medical expenses, will be astronomical.''2 Aging also appears as an increasing pastoral care issue for the church. The 1999 document of the Pontifical Council for the Laity, "The Dignity of Older People and Their Mission in the Church and in the World," says that the increasing number of aging people in the developed coun-tries of the world will cause some significant shifts in the style and opportunities for pastoral care: The ecclesial community, for its part, is called to respond to the great participation which older people would like to have ih the church by turning to account the "gift" they represent as witnesses of the tradition of fai.th, teachers of the wisdom of life, and workers of charity. [The Church] must therefore reexamine its apostolate on behalf of older people, and open it up to their participation and collaboration.3 66.1 2007 Neuman ¯ Aging and Christian Spirituality Aging doqs not need o be a series of losses th'a can only be eiid ¢ed::i In this article I explore two challenges that aging pres-ents for Christian spirituality. These challenges touch individuals, families, parishes, and the church as a whole. Aging does not need to be a series of losses that can only be endured. Indeed, it offers genuine possibilities for spiritual growth. I came to be interested in this topic for several rea-sons. Seven years ago my father fell on some ice and broke his hip. He never really recovered from that, and spent his last two years in a nursing home. In those two years my parents, my sisters, and I talked much about the reality of nursing-home life, about how many things aging compels the elderly and their families to give up. A year after my father died, my mother fell inside her house and broke her hip. She recovered much better than he did. She had observed the nursing home firsthand and had no desire to go there: "The smells and the food would kill me for sure." Her great effort to do her therapy and avoid the nursing home enabled her (at age 86) to finish the rehabilitation program three weeks early. She was able to return home, but my sisters and I felt she needed a watchful presence around her more than a duplex could-provide. So she moved into a home for the elderly, and Ibecame chaplain for the Benedictine sisters who run the home. My mother and I walk together frequently, our conversations returning now and then to the trials and opportunities of aging. At ninety-two she feels them acutely. I must face my own aging too. At sixty-four, I have had to accept it for some time now. In the last twenty years, I have given up physically competitive sports; my Review for Religious football, baseball, and basketball gear were given away long ago. I still have golf and the treadmill, but the clock is ticking there too. For the last three years, back prob-lems have cut short my summer golf. What encouraged me more than anything else to do some spiritual reflection on aging was a little pam-phlet titled The Grace of Old Age by Father Vincent M. O'Flaherty SJ. He.wrote a series of reflections while a patient in a nursing home himself. His view of aging is special, and he provides some excellent thoughts on the spirituality of aging. Here is one: "When I look at my tensions from the point of view of detachment, I see that each tension is a fear of losing the power to enjoy one of the goods of this life. As a grace, aging is a slow death of the power of enjoying this world.''4 That last cuts deep. But, as Father O'Flaherty adds, it also makes more spiritual growth possible. But wherein does that spiritual growth consist? Throughout Christian history, old age has not stimulated a lot of sustained reli-gious thinking.5 In developed Western countries, that is due in part to the fact that, until the latter part of the 20th century, most people did not live to old age as we know it. In 1790 the U.S. population over age 65 comprised only two percent. By 1980 that was eleven percent, and in 2004 it was approaching fifteen. The President's Council on Bioethics says that the fastest-growing age group in the U.S. is "the oldest of the old (people age 85 or over).''6 In the last quarter century, the increasing percentage of older people has created much investigation into all aspects of growing older. But there is a counterbalance to this increasingly aging population. As the number of older persons in the U.S. increases, the inherent value of any one of them decreases. Previously the elderly's very "scarcity" was a value. A household with an elderly per-son, with someone who could tell the family's history, was 66.1 2007 Neuman ¯ Aging and Christian Spirituality considered honored and blessed. In our own day people are more likely to worry about how many older people there are and how they are going to be cared for. Both the joys and resignations, " of old agk can be seen~ hs ways of deepenin~ g onr . relationship with~ God. Perspective People generally have two ways of considering the onset of old age. Both appear in scientific as well as common thought, and both are mentioned by the Pontifical Commission's document "The Dignity of Older People.-7 The first way is to anticipate joys, to expect that each age possesses its own blessings, its own joys and achieve-ments. The last years of life offer particular graces: the joy of grandchildren, lessening responsibility, time for relaxation, oppor-tunity to do some things you always wanted to do. The Christian tradition often encouraged this, considering old age a blessing. The Bible provides some examples: "Gray hair is a crown of glow" (Pr 16:31). "You shall rise before the aged, and defer to the old" (Lv 19:32). Older persons are presumed wise, from their great store of life experience. A second way to deal with aging is resignation. This seems the predominant way. People work at accepting the inevitability of aging, and its conclusion. Aging always involves loss. People must give up many things along the way. At each stage of life, valuable and dear things are left behind. Resignation includes a fearful looking ahead to possible situations that one would rather not face. The fear of helplessness, of being a burden to others, remains Review for Religious extremely troubling for many people. With resignation, one tries to be ready for inevitable losses without becom-ing angry about them. There is a whole body of literature on "disengagement theory.''8 As they advance in age, most people probably experience some joy about their future and some resignation regarding things they fear. All of us have to learn the proper proportions for ourselves. This is a matter of our religious response. Both the joys and resignations of old age can be seen as ways of deepening our relationship with God. Enjoying Joys As people grow older, they do not lose their right to joy in life. They can still partake of joys and pleasures, simple though they may be. The church's teaching on pleasure and joy has not always been as positive as it might have been.9 From the perspective of Vatican Council II, people are beginning to see life's legitimate joys as our ini-tial sharing in the resurrection. A nursing-home resident make this point directly: "Despite pain, I am experiencing joy. If that is so, I am experiencing God. I am delighted to wake up in the morning, to have another day to experi-ence God in joy. The simplest things--the weather, the barren trees of winter, the sports scores, reading, staying in touch with families and friends--all give me joy. In all I find a taste of God. Yes, it is tough to grow old, but I have found joy that I did not know in my youth.''1° Some of the sharper slants of disengagement theory would urge the elderly to disengage themselves from any joys that keep them attached to this world. But a Christian spirituality would encourage older persons to enjoy what they still can. Indeed, other scholars of aging would assert that older people who are not too old can develop abili-ties that they never knew they possessed. Studies suggest that the brain's left and right hemispheres become better 66.1 2007 Neuman * Aging and Christian Spirituality integrated during middle age, making way for improved creativity in one's older years. Age also seems to dampen some negative emotions, making it easier to get rid of anger.1~ My own mother in her eighties developed a bet-ter attitude toward death than she ever had previously. It happens to others as well: An editor I know at a New York publishing company provides a case in point. He was in his sixties and con-templating retirement when he realized that he had finally matured into his job. Despite a sharp intellect and a passion for excellence, this man had spent much of his career alienating people with brusque, critical comments and a lack of sensitivity. Now . . . he was finally beginning to master interpersonal communica-tion. As his emotional development caught up to his intellectual development, he morphed from a brilliant but brittle loner into a mentor and a mediator of con-flicts . His best work was still ahead of him.12 This potential to be creative and surprising is some-thing that those who work with the elderly need to be more aware of. Often they do not give aging people a chance. Sometimes the elderly do not give themselves a chance. Learning new abilities, arriving at positions we could never previously attain, constitutes a great joy of one's older years. The Vatican document "The Dignity of Older People and Their Mission in the Church and in the World" urges that the legitimate charisms of older people be recognized. These gifts can be real blessings for the entire church.~3 The charism of disinterestedness, the ability to give some-thing or to give of themselves without any thought of return, is a special gift that older people can share with younger generations. Another charism of the elderly is memory, in particular carrying the past forward and creat-ing a shared identity for a family, a parish, or some other group. Similarly the charism of interdependence, the ability Review for Religious to overcome individualism and self-seeking and enter into genuine interactions with others, becomes very specific in the lives of the elderly. In many ways elderly people have a need of being interdependent. Their deeply felt awareness can teach :., ,-,, -. - o o., :::c~umauitz~te'sloysi~ndpteasures. nity, and integrity in being old and being old in public. That witness amazed many people, and there is much we still need to learn from it.~4 Let us consider some of the joys that are specific to old age. One is reminiscence--thinking back to the happy and satisfying events of one's life. That can surely be a genuine joy. My mother has often said that the vacations my family took together give her much to remember and delight in. (For twenty years we went on a week's vacation each summer.) Another joy as a person ages is to anticipate the contributions one can make by instructing a younger generation and see them grow to maturity, surely a joy for one who looks back on a lengthy teaching career. Father O'Flaherty reminds us that certain joys, although genuine, are limited: "Part of the confusion over the question of happiness in old age comes from a rela-tive definition of fun. Thus we might ask whether living in Sun City is fun. If we look at it from the point of view of entertainment, Sun City has everything. But we should not exaggerate fun in old age; it peaks out with grandma knitting in a rocking chair. Neither a young nor a mature man would be attracted by the fun in Sun City.''s 66.1 2007 Neuman ¯ Aging and Christian Spirituality Christian spirituality invites the aging to have a deeper appreciation of human life's joys and pleasures. There are created joys appropriate to each stage of life. These should be identified and savored, even or especially by the elderly. Here Christian spirituality can take a hint from Jewish spirituality: A characteristic attitude is taken up by the Talmud towards the pleasures of life. Recognizing that what has been created by God for man's enjoyment must be essen-tially good, it not only counsels men to indulge in them but even condemns those who abstain from them. The rabbis assume the standpoint that God wants his creatures to be happy, and it must therefore be sinful deliberately to shun physical happiness and material well-being.~6 Vghile traditional Christian spirituality would allow a much more positive place for asceticism, s011 there is room in Christian spirituality for legitimate joys and pleasures at each stage of life. This means acknowledging and delighting in the pleasures (a sunny day, an exciting sporting event, a glass of wine). Then, going a step fur-ther, it means giving praise to God for these gifts of joy. Enjoyment is a part of God's providence for us. Facing Resignations Enjoying what pleasures one can in old age is part of Christian spirituality. Nonetheless, at the center of a spirituality of aging remains the reality of facing the many resignations life demands. No matter how great the joys are that elderly people may delight in, acts of resigna-tion are perhaps unavoidably greater. Giving up various pleasures of life is a never-ending part of aging: driving at night, strenuous or agile physical movement, certain well-liked foods, traveling to visit distant friends. The list goes on and on. To recall clearly something you have loved to do for Review for Religious twenty, thirty, or forty years and say "No more" both scares and humbles. So, as Christians, how do we deal with these resignations in ourselves and in others? First we admit that they are difficult and frightening. People coping with them should be patient with themselves and with others. Instant or pat answers like "Christ gave up everything, so should you" can do more harm than good. Elizabeth Kiibler-Ross showed five stages that people may experience as death comes closer: denial, anger, bargain-ing, depression, and acceptance.~7 These may be present when people have to use a walker all the time for mobility or have to enter a nursing home. We can help people to acknowledge the pain and loss they feel; denial does not help. We can be there with them, what Sheila Cassidy has called a "Stabat Mater" spirituality, a simple, silent, stand-with-them presence.~8 After each acceptance of loss, people may feel a loss of integrity. To their mind they will seem to be "less," "needier," a "bother" to others. The helping spiritual task assists them to regain a connectedness with people and things, to help them see that their life still possesses a fundamental meaning and purpose, that their own inner life will always have value in sight of God and for those who love them. We think back to Father O'Flaherty's comment: "Aging is a slow death of the power of enjoying this world." In our later years, aging is dominated by physical and mental decline and the giving up of many pleasures. There is also the fear of facing significant pain; that takes serious resignation as well. Father O'Flaherty puts it well again: "Modern medicine has increased my tensions. I am on 'their' side when they prolong my pleasures, but I classify them among nay enemies when they propose to prolong my pains . My fear is that they would lengthen my three hours on the cross to six.''~9 66.1 2007 Neuman ¯ Aging and Christian Spirituality Vatican Council II's Constitution on the Church has some fine insights about offering our lives to God as spiritual sacrifices: "For all [the laity's] works, prayers, and apostolic undertakings, family and married life, daily work, relaxation of mind and body, if they are accom-plished in the Spirit--indeed even the hardships of life if patiently borne--all these become spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ" (§34). The chal-lenge is thus to see each resignation as a spiritual sacrifice. In their later years people offer their life's troubles. Their fragile and failing bodies and minds become gifts pleasing to God. Father O'Flaherty notes: "'vVhen a man gets old and his mind gets foggy, he cannot formulate flowery prayers. At the beginning of the countdown (age 65) he should start saying the prayer of simple presentation so that he will be in the habit of using it when his faculties are not keen. Just present yourself to God . Push your wheel-chair into the chapel and show your broken hip to our Lord. This throws the burden of giving you a cross on Almighty God. It is the resigned way of praying, with full resignation to the will of God.''2° " When people are young, faith shows itself in a lot of activity, vision, building. But in old age faith turns much more around seeking the peace of God. In facing the res-ignations of aging, giving up and faith are almost indistin-guishable. Sometimes all the elderly can do is bring their broken bodies as their spiritual sacrifice; that is their way of building the kingdom of God. The Constitution on the Church notes, too, that suf-fering can be a way to holiness. "In a special way also, those who are weighted down by poverty, infirmity, sick-ness and other hardships should realize that they are united to Christ, who suffers for the salvation of the world" (§41). In old age, that suffering becomes very real Review for Religion, s and sometimes omnipresent in aches and pains, some-times very severe pain. One of the challenges that aging presents to Christian spirituality is coming to believe and assert that pain in old age becomes a genuine prayer. In dealing with the many resignations of aging, we are always working toward that confession of Christ in the garden: "Not my will, but yours be done" (Mt 26:39). From a Christian perspective, that is the result of every resignation: it becomes a holy resignation, the offering of our lives as a spiritual sacrifice. Notes ~ President's Council on Bio-Ethics, 7~;king Care Ethical Caregiving in Our Aging Society (2005), pp. xvii-xviii. 2 "Curing, Caring, and Coping," America (30 January 2006): 13. 3 Pontifical Council for the Laity, "The Dignity of Older People and their Mission in the Church and in the Vqorld," in Autumn Blessings: Living Old Age in Faith (Little Sisters of the Poor Publications Office, n.d.), p. 43. 4 Vincent M. O'Flaherty SJ, The Grace of Old Age (Franciscan Herald Press, 1976), p. 31. s An overview of this topic may be perused in K. Brynolf Lyon, Toward a Practical Theology of Aging (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1985), "Aging and the Christian Theology Tradition," pp. 31-53. 6 Taking Care, p. 7. 7 Autumn Blessings, pp. 15-16. 8 Lyon, Toward a Practical Theology, pp. 64-66. ~ Jacques-Marie Pohier, "Pleasure and Christianity.," in Franz B6ckle and Jacques-Marie Pohier (eds.), Sexuality in Contempo~w~[y Catholicism (New York: Seabury Press, 1976), pp. 103-109. m Frank Moan SJ, "Prayer and Pain," America (19-26 June 2006): 19. ~ Gene Cohen, "The Myth of the Midlife Crisis," Newsweek (17 January 2006), p. 82. 12 Cohen, p. 12. ~s Autumn Blessings, pp. 18-20. ~4 Robert Proctor, "A Farewell to Remember: \~That John Paul II's Death Taught Us," Commonweal (3 June 2005): 19-25. ~s O'Flaherty, Grace, p. 20. 66.1 2007 Neuman ¯ Aging and Christian SpMtuality 1~ A. Cohen, Eve~yman's Ta&md (New York: Schocken Books, 1975), p. 230. ~7 Elizabeth Kiibler-Ross, On Death and Dying (Touchstone, 1969, 1997). ~s Sheila Cassidy, Sharing the Darkness (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1991), p. 66. ~90'Flaherty, Grace, p. 17. :o O'Flaherty, Grace, p. 55. via dolorosa it is their sorrow I bear yet they will never know how they have been beaten like a hanging rug stripped bare they are unaware of their nakedness and this is their anguish to thirst and not know why to bleed and not see the wounds Lou Ella Hickman IWBS Review for Religious JENNIFER CONSTANTINE JACKSON Dreams in Prayer and Discernment /~lthe past forty years, writings on Christian spiritu-ity, particularly on prayer and discernment, have given renewed attention to dreams (Doran 498). This article elucidates some movements in this area of study and then invites spiritual directors and discerners to make use of them in Ignatian spirituality. Dreams represent a way of true responsiveness, especially for the laity, to the church's call to an authentic obedience, an obedience that is at all times discerning and fulfilling God's will in the world (Lumen gentium, §37). Some of the earliest contributions to this recent attention to dreams are John A. Sanford's Dreams: God's Forgotten Language (1968) and Morton Kelsey's Dreams: The Dark Speech of the Spirit (1968). The key insight that begins with these works is captured in 1978 in Kelsey's Dreams: A Way to Listen to God (p. 9) and again in 1991 in his reflections on his teaching at the University of Notre Dame: "As I listened to my dreams, I found a presence Jennifer Constantine Jackson, a teacher, is currently a student of theology and Ignatian spirituality. Her address is 333A Harvard Street, Apt. 1A; Cambridge, Massachusetts 02139. 66.1 2007 Jackson * Dreams in Prayer and Discernment wiser than I trying to guide me through my difficulties to wholeness, a wholeness that was possible only when I con-tinued to be in touch with the infinitely loving Holy One" (God, Dreams, and Revelation, p. 213). Dreams take place within one's relationship with God. They invite listening in a process that seems to be initiated and sustained not by the dreamer but by God. Kelsey says that the current ambiguous, even fearful attitude about dreams in Christian spirituality is very dif-ferent from that of the first millennium of Christianity: "The early Christian church viewed the dream as one of the most significant and most important ways in which God revealed his will to human beings . We find this view in the Old Testament, in the New Testament, and in the church fathers up to the time of Aquinas" (God, Dreams, p. 17). Kelsey and others cite many church fathers acknowledging dreams as helpful for growing in relation-ship with God. In his response to the Epicureans' denial of this possibility, Tertullian "specificallysuggested that dreams have various levels of interpretation, and finally he asked, 'Now, who is such a stranger to human experi-ence as not sometimes to have perceived some truth in dreams?'" (109). Kelsey also cites the fathers' reservations concerning dreams in the life of faith. Clement details what must be the formation of one who interprets dreams (106), Origen says that evil spirits can enter dreams (108), and Gregory emphasizes the dangers for those not aware of the illusory nature of dreams (142). It is clear from these cautionary words that there was a shared under-standing that dreams must be discerned within faith. Concerning attentiveness to the needs of Christians today, Kelsey's emphasis on "wholeness" seems to be echoed in The New Dictionary of Catholic Spirituality. In its entry on "dreams," James L. Empereur SJ cites "the sig-nificance of dream work for spirituality and personal inte- Review for Religious gration" as "based on the conviction that every dream is in the service of wholeness through the integration of the inner and outer lives" (296). At the close of Empereur's four-page entry, the reader still wonders how the "service of wholeness" intentionally involves a participation in the life of the Trinity on the part of those involved in the work of dreams. In Spirituality in Depth: Essays in Honor of Sister Irene Dugan RC, Michael Cooper SJ's reflections on "A Spirituality of Balance" provide some assistance. Cooper says: "At the end of the 'discourse of antitheses,' the Beatitudes in Matthew, Jesus sums up all he has just said by exhorting his disciples, 'You must, therefore, be perfect, just as your heavenly Abba is perfect (Mt 5:48)'" (57). Contrary to the "strict and demanding tone" that the Greek word telios has often taken on, Cooper says that "the actual Greek New Testament meaning of telios is whole, complete, balanced!" (57). Herein lies a key to actualizing "that divine balance which lies at the heart of his gospel call to relationship and discipleship" (59). Highlighting the early communities devoted to religious life in the church, Cooper shows how an attentiveness to dreams in a community's faith life could contribute to this "divine balance": The hermits--male and female--lived alone but never too far from each other, so that they could cry out and be heard in case of threat or illness. Because of the isolation and sensory deprivation, some underwent the equivalent of today's Jungian analysis as their dreams and halluci-nations brought their demons and forgotten memories to the surface. Those who survived this descent into their own netherworlds and who were deeply grounded in their own humanity and in their own Christian faith eventually gained renown as wisdom figures. Individuals would come out to the desert to seek spiritual counsel and often stayed for weeks or months as they pursued their own spiritual conversion. (59) 66.1 2007 Jackson ¯ Dreams in Prayer and Discernment For those committed to religious life in the first centuries of Christianity, the fruits of attentiveness to dreams could be pursued successfully only through grace and only if the purpose was life in Christ. As Kelsey notes, this very purpose brought St. TMr~se of Lisieux spiritual consola-tion through her own dream near the end of her short life (God, Dreams, 164). Are these matters relevant to Ignatian spiritual direc-tors and discerners today? In a 1979 series of lectures on For those committed. to religifus life in thee first centuries of Christi~nity)_ the fruits, of attent, iveness to dreams could.~be pursued, Successfully only through grace only, if the .purpose. was life in,Chris "Jungian psychology and contemporary Christian spiritual-ity," published in Review for Religious, Robert Doran SJ noted that, reserva-tions about Jungian psychology notwith-standing, "there is much that we not only can, but indeed must, learn [from Jung] in developing both a theology and an ascesis of spiri-tual transformation in the context of the contemporary world" (499). Working in the tradition of Bernard Lonergan SJ, and noting as well Karl Rahner sJ'S work in Ignatian spirituality, Doran provides an essential guide especially in the matter of dreams and discernment. Doran found himself more and more convinced that "a psychological understanding of the development and flow-ering of human affectivity., is pertinent to our spiritual self-understanding" (857). Both spirituality ("grace, the Review for Religious supernatural, self-denial, the following of Christ" [858]) and psychology are involved in the "realm of interiority," which is also the reahn of dreams and desire (500). "It is the task of spiritual theology," he says, "to mediate these two conceptual worlds [spirituality and psychology], the one with the other, by taking its stand in interior experi-ence, which is the dimension to which both sets of con-cepts refer if they are talking about anything real" (858). Doran emphasizes such a task because of what he has noticed as two severe problematic positions concerning the relation of spirituality and psychology. The first is "the reduction of spirituality to psychology" (857), and the second, "a tendency, once, perhaps, pronounced in Christian spirituality, [and] still to be found," divorces "spirituality from psychology so completely that discern-ment itself becomes impossible . Such an orientation, when put into practice, leads to a split consciousness and a compartmentalized life" (858). The tendency toward this second extreme, he thinks, is because of an ambiguity concerning, in particular, the work of Carl Jung. Here lies Doran's important contri-bution. He precisely identifies Jung's contributions to an Ignatian discernment of spirits, and he shows clearly where Jung failed to be true to his own scientific method. How Jung contributes to spirituality, he says, is rather by "helping us to recognize inordinate projections and disoriented affections, than in orienting us positively to the God of Christian faith and to Christ"; for, in this area of faith, "Jung, I find, is quite deficient, and his thought derails him from the appropriate orientation to the real-ity of God" (858). Doran emphasizes that, if it is clear where Jung's thought fails, Jung's con(ributions can be much more fruitfully employed. And so he elaborates with a special concern for how a false appropriation of Jung can seriously affect an authentic discernment of spirits: 66.1 2007 Jackson ¯ Dreams in Prayer and Discernment Jung's theological ambiguities, and the alternative inter-pretations and evaluations that are offered of his work, are symptomatic of an underlying spiritual conflict that can be mediated only in the context of the dialectic of grace and of sin, of the standards of Christ and of Satan. David Burrell has indicated correctly that one cannot fail to meet God if one goes on the inner journey to individuation. But one will also meet much that is not God and that is even opposed to God. Not only does Jung not help one to discriminate these forces as they operate in the psyche, but he also contributes to and even encourages the confusion that can be experienced in such moments that call for discernment, and thus mires one in the conflictual forces that wage an ultimate battle in the depths of one's psyche. Jung's work, if left uncriticized, leads one into a psychological cul-de-sac that can assume demonic proportions. (499) Jung sees the issue of good and evil as something to be reconciled within the self, rather than acknowledging that the problem of evil remains and is not within our capacity to resolve. The only. solution can come from redemption, and redemption can come only from God, and God's exis-tence, knowledge, ~nd goodness are offered to us to be accepted or rejected: If we accept it, [it] will involve us in a whole new area of growth and transformation, an area which we would not even know in any explicit way if God had not come to meet us. This distinct area of development is related to our cognitional and mora.1 development. It is not the product of our knowing and our choosing. It is not something that we vainly imagine, or that we produce by wishful thinking. Rather, it is offered to our knowl-edge and our freedom as a gift. (501) Our acceptance of this gift means we are in the realm of "faith, which Lonergan defines as 'the eye of love,' the eye of the love that is ours, that is the atmosphere in which we live, when we know ourselves as uncondition- Review for Religious ally loved by, and rooted in, the love that is God's alone" (501). Any true attentiveness to dreams must take place in this context, where, as Rahner knew well in the tradition of Aquinas, "even in the direct vision of God, God will remain for us an incomprehensible mystery" (858). Now more than ever in history, says Doran with Rahner and Lonergan in the tradition of Ignatius, Christians long to see God and to know that God is the mystery that engulfs them and also to know what they are knowing and feeling. This, says Doran, involves not only self-transcendence, "an accepting of God's offer of both salvation and vocation," but also self-appropriation, which "is a matter of self-knowledge, of self-discovery, of self-understanding" in this acceptance (504) and which also constitutes for the Christian a commitment to prayer and discernment. He says that some factors of modern life make this self-appropriation necessary. His reason for seeing dreams as an important component in prayer and discernment, especially the discernment of spirits, is that they involve feelings, and, applying Lonergan's thought in the tradition of Ignatius, he says: To name one's feelings is to discover the dynamic images, the symbols, that are associated with them. To have insight into one's feelings is to understand the symbolic association. To tell one's stoW is to narrate the course of one's elemental symbolizing. And where does one's elemental symbolizing occur in its purest form, untainted by the biases that, in waking life, can lead us to distort our stow? The place . . . is in our dreams. It is in the dream that we first are conscious, and it is in the dream that we find a "stow" going for-ward that we cannot distort without being aware that we are doing so. If we want to know our "story"--the story of insight, the story of judgment, the stoW of decision, and the stoW of prayer--we can find it in our dreams. There is a psychic conversion that puts us into contact with that stoW. It affects us deeply once it has 66.1 2007 Jackson ¯ Dreams in Prayer and Discernment occurred. For it enables us to judge ourselves in our waking life as authentic or inauthentic in our pursuit of understanding, in our seeking of truth, in our decisions, and in our search for God. (510) Dreams offer one way of being attentive to this mystery that is God. The dreams from the lives of the saints come to mind, and their careful, caring, detached attentiveness to them serves as a model for all Christians committed to a life of prayer and discernment. Since a way is clear for an authentic use of Jung's con-tributions concerning dreams, how such contributions can be employed in the service of prayer and discern-ment should be regularly considered and shared. Maureen Dreams offeron way of being at tentiVe . to this mystery that i God.:. Conroy RSM attends to this question and begins to answer it (by reflect-ing on anima and animus in relation to desolation) in the final pages of her book where she reflects on contemporary issues in the ministry of spiri-tual direction (236-238). First and perhaps most important in aiding "the soul to rid itself of all inordinate attach-ments" (SpEx ~5), dreams can invite people to notice whether anything other than God is at the center of their life. Dreams brought to discernment can serve as personal parables, offered intimately by the Lord for the discerner to explore. Conroy gives instances where discerners on their own initiative mentioned dreams in speaking of their prayer difficulties. In one case, the dream helped the discerner realize that she was "playing God" by try-ing to control the events of her life at the time (182-183). In another case, the dreamer felt wounded by someone he may have been trying to substitute for God, a situa- Review for Religious tion causing unrecognized angers inside him (232). Both Conroy and William Barry SJ (God and You, 52-53) note that such emotions can block prayer. The dreams, then, would be ways that the Holy Spirit invites us to bring our lives to Christ. Kelsey reminds us that dreams come as "receptions"; in the New Testament, visitations are generally received with some fear--and with the message "Don't be afraid" (173). Dreams may offer the gift of spiritual consolation. In the final chapter of his Weeds among the Wheat, Thomas Green SJ describes a woman's dream after the death of her husband, a dream that is clearly a spiritual consolation for her (163-164). In the "afterglow" of the consolation, "it seemed to her that this experience of God's love, of confident hope in bereavement, could not be merely for herself alone, and that it must be the Lord's intention that she write about it and thus provide hope and strength to others similarly bereaved" (165). As Kelsey recounts the dream of St. Thdr~se of Lisieux (God, Dreams, 164), it is clear that her dream, too, was a gift of consolation from the Lord. Dreams can beg contemporary pray-ers to be listen-ers. Attending to dreams requires making time for listen-ing, and, in a culture where people are not easily "hit over the head" with Scripture (Shannon 8), dreams can teach us how to be more receptive to God's word. "Authentic silence," Shannon says, "is pregnant with words that will be born at the right time" (3). Authentic listening is con-nected to authentic vision; both are arts we need to cul-tivate if we wish to be open to the Holy Spirit. As Jules Toner SJ says in his commentary on being open to the Holy Spirit in the Spiritual Exercises, "there is a factor in openness to the Holy Spirit which . . . is closely related to readiness to seek counsel . Sometimes, even with-out our noticing it, one or other of [our] prejudgments 66.1 2007 Jackson ¯ Dreams in Prayer and Discernment 28 can play a major role in blinding us to the evidence for the decision to which the Holy Spirit is leading us" (96). Being open to the "evidence" of our dreams, and pray-ing for this openness, are authentic ways of becoming genuine listeners and persons of vision in every aspect of our lives. Dreams also can teach us to trust in the Lord. With dreams as with other data from our lives that we bring to discernment or direction, there are times when we simply cannot see and do not have the answers. The data of a dream may simply be too confusing or unclear. At these times discerners must wait and trust in the Lord. A renewed attention to dreams in Christian prayer and discernment is a way of true responsiveness, especially for laypersons, to the church's call to an authentic obedience. Thomas Green says that "religious congregations' ideas of common life and obedience have often been distorted in such a way as to canonize the annihilation of personality" (38). In our day, prayerful exploring of dreams may be unique expressions of the life of the Spirit in the church. This can be a new way for the laity to participate more integrally in the life of the church, a wonderful oppor-t- unity for a new level of sharing gifts. At the same time, we continue to be called to greater participation in the life of Christ, who Willingly took the cross so that we might share in his resurrection. If a greater attentiveness to dreams in prayer and discernment is going to achieve anything, may it be to give greater glory to God through a radical participation in the life of him who gave himself for us. Bibliography Barry, William A., SJ. God and You: Prayer as a Personal Relationship. New York: Paulist, 1987. Conroy, Maureen, RSM. The Discer~ting Heart: Discovering a Personal God. Chicago: Loyola, 1993. Review for Religious Cooper, Michael, SJ. "A Spirituality of Balance." In Spirituality in Depth: Essays in Honor of Sister h'ene Dugan RC, ed. Avis Clendenen. New York: Chiron Publications, 2004. Doran, Robert M., SJ. "Jungian Psychology and Christian Spirituality: I, II, and III." Review for Religious 38 (1979): 497-510, 742-752, and 857-866 respectively. Empereur, James L., SJ. "Dreams." In The New Dictionary of Catholic Spirituality, ed. Michael Downey. Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1993. Green, Thomas H., SJ. Weeds among the Wheat--Disce~vm~ent: Where Prayer and Action Meet. Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1984. Kelsey, Morton T. God, Dreams, and Revelation: A Christian Interpretation of Dreams. Minneapolis: Augsburg, 1991. Shannon, William A. Seeking the Face of God. New York: Crossroad, 1988. Toner, Jules, sJ. Discerning God's Will: Ignatius of Loyola's Teaching on Christian Decision Making. St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1991. Reflection/Discussion Questions 1. What does it mean for me to listen to my dreams? 2. Have I had the experience of a dream influencing a significant change or decision in my life? What were the circumstances? 3. Can I relate to the statement "Dreams may offer the gift of spiritual consolation"? If so, let me review the experience. 66.1 2007 RENEE MIRKES Confessions of a Franciscan Ethicist perspectives Confessions are never easy. Typically, the stage is set by a .collage of eye-openers. In my case, the events that propelled me headlong into this pub-lic disclosure are interlaced with the common thread of what-it-means-to-be-a-Franciscan. First, some while ago, a new acquaintance of mine innocently asked, with clearly spoken ital-ics, "So, what's it like to be a Franciscan ethi-cist?" Second, for the last fifteen years or more I, together with all the members of my religious congregation, have been encouraged to immerse myself in, and be formed by, not only the ideals and vision of St. Francis of Assisi, but also the eponymous religious tradition fathered by him. And, third, while reading several months ear-lier Cardinal Ratzinger's 1996 address critiqu-ing moral relativism, I was revisited by an old uneasiness.~ I kept asking myself: Are you suffer- Ren6e Mirkes OFS, a Franciscan" Sister of Christian Charity, is ethics director at Paul Vl Institute; 6901 Mercy Road; Omaha, Nebraska 68106. Review for Religious ing from some kind of Franciscan schizophrenia or what? My difficulty, in a nutshell, was this. From one side, I was perfectly at peace with the fact that new pope's exposition confirmed me in the way I help my clients, students, and readers to identify the fallacies of moral subjecfivism. But, from another side, I was unsettled by realizing that my way, like the pope's, was not Franciscan in approach but Dominican and Thomistic. The first incident urges me to confess--t0 acknowl-edge- that until I was questioned I honestly never thought of making a practical connection between being an ethicist and being a Franciscan. The second experience encourages me to confess--t0 declare my si,l or failing--that I have dragged my feet when expressly recalling how Franciscan spirituality actually shapes the here-and-now manner in which I "do" ethics. The third episode prompts me to confess--t0 admit my belief--that Franciscans and Dominicans can learn a .lot from each other, specifically from the charisms of their respective traditions. For the details of this tripartite confession (and a summary critique of moral relativism to boot), I invite you to read on. I confess that I previously neglected to give seri-ous thought to whether my being a Franciscan could affect my ethics work. Learning from the lessons of life is a lot about making connections. And making con-nections is all about understanding what things mean. Before facing the question I began.with, I confess that "Franciscan" is not on.e of the adjectives I routinely used to describe my avocation. I was a Catholic ethicist; I was a Christia~? philosopher; I was an ethicist who is a vowed re/igio~ts. But I had just not taken that seemingly small step toward saying--and comprehending what it means to say--that I am a Francisca~z ethicist. In other words, before I did some careful analysis of the matter, being a 66.1 2007 Mirkes ¯ Confessions of a Franciscan Ethicist Franciscan was just a footnote of, rather than organically related to, my work as a vowed religious ethicist. So, wittingly or unwittingly, the questioner forced me to confront a real hiatus in my thinking and action. Why did I fail to connect the dots of being a Christian, an ethicist, and a Franciscan? The longer I thought about it, the more deeply convinced I became that the crux of my problem was not a rift between my avocation and vocation but my intellectual failure to link my Christian and consecrated-life vocations to my Franciscan calling. I was letting my Franciscan identity wither, and so it was not having its full effect on my life and apostolic work. Lacking attention from me, it was overshadowed by my Christian and religious vocations, becoming a dim sem-blance of what it should have been. Suddenly all those instructions I had received before and during my formation began flowing through my mind. To live as a Franciscan is to respond to Christ's call to follow him, to follow the universal call to holiness, the call I received at my baptism, the call to live and think with the church. To be a Franciscan sister is to incarnate the gospel life that inspired Francis to total discipleship through the vows: ."go and sell," "take nothing along," and "deny yourself." Hence, distinct but interrelated com-ponents simultaneously guide my following of Christ. I have dedicated myself to the evangelical call to holiness, to the long church tradition that draws on prayer and the authentic sources of Christian spirituality, on the recent instructions of the church on the vowed life, and on the particular lifestyle proposed by St. Francis of Assisi. There it was: the proper frame within which I could think anew about being Franciscan in my work as a Christian ethicist. And, for me, seeing Franciscan identity against its proper background was to understand, as if for the first time, its close relationship to my Christian and Review for Religious consecrated vocations. Within this frame, I understood why being a Franciscan is essential in my avocation, my vowed life's apostolic mission to be a Catholic ethicist. I confess that I had never given serious thought to the manner in which being Franciscan did, does, and will affect the way I do ethics. I am confessing here my past failure to explicitly recall the leaven of Franciscan values in the dough of my apostolic service. You see, I had forgotten to note their here-and-now effect, not so much on the content and method of my profes-sional activities, but on the style, manner, and spirit in which I do my work. Once I had explicitly adverted to that leaven, however, I realized I had here a virtu- '.tion on.,[rn .,iFra ci can Values ever more ous circle. Frequent meditation on my Franciscan values fostered an ever more Franciscan self. The more spirited my Franciscan heart, the greater likelihood its values-- continual conversion, poverty, humble "minority," and prayer--would be evident to those I serve.2 First, take the Franciscan charism of pove~-ty. Where every consecrated religious takes vows to live as the poor, chaste, and obedient Christ lived, followers of Francis embrace his special love for poverty. Note that, for il Poverello (the little poor one), poverty was a code word for living the gospel. As such, the vow encompassed not merely being monetarily and materially poor but also the more demanding challenge of imitating the kenosis, the radical self-emptying, of Jesus. For Franciscans, then, special esteem for the vow of poverty means asking for the grace to be formed into the image of the Servant- Lord who washed the feet of his disciples and gave up his 66.1 2007 Mirkes ¯ Confessions of a Franciscan Etbicist life out of love for sinners. For this Franciscan, then, the ethics consults that are "baked in the cake" of my every-day service afford me the precious gift of correcting and encouraging, praying with and, yes, sometimes sharing a good cry with, my clients, moving them ever more surely, moral choice by moral choice, toward their ultimate end of the Good. I frequently remind those who consult me that, because their love of the Truth and the Good is so profound, our exchange puts me in their debt. Indeed, these consultations provide me and them the double blessing of serving Christ in each other. Second, while every religious order requires its mem-bers to conform to Christ by living virtuously, Francis put humilit.y at the top of his list. Imitating Francis, I am called to give first place to the truth about myself as well as my abilities. The former lets me see that God can sing through this poor instrument as long as it is emptied of self; the latter helps me to know that all is gift. While it is true that God has blessed me with the ability to inspire people in their pursuit of the Good, I pray that my being a Franciscan shines through in the way I respond to acco-lades. After a lecture, for example, I always, but always, turn people to the real source of their inspiration: "Oh, I am so pleased you were moved by the truth of Humanae vitae! Isn't it a powerful document?" or "I see that the wisdom and holiness of Edith Stein really spoke to you. Thank God for the living witness of his saints." Third, all religious congregations encourage living in community as an explicit way to serve fellow religious and strengthen them in their service of the larger society. But Francis wanted friars and sisters to be minores, persons who lived together and claimed no special rule or domi-nation or power over anyone. Striving for that attitude as an ethics consultant, lecturer, and teacher, I provide knowledge and advice not in an imperative or domineer- Review for Religious ing way, not in a manner that makes nay moral authority felt, but in a way that appeals to the freedom and dignity of others. In doing so, I reflect and "preach" the value of "minority" by being submissive to those I serve for the sake of God. Fourth, where the church has always encouraged reli-gious to a deep conversion and self-emptying, St. Francis insisted that penance/continual conversion take primacy of place in the mindset and practice of his followers. Pursuant to a Franciscan vocation, the disposition of metanoia means letting one-self be totally cap-tured by Christ. It means unremitting movement toward the Good and avoid-ance of evil. These are the very desires I continually try to foster in those I serve. Frequently I exhort couples, "You will be tempted to give up, to cease wanting to convert to the Lord in the midst of challenging procreative issues. But resist the quick fix 'solutions' of contraception, ster-ilization, abortion, and IVF. The trade-off for expediency in these matters is an attenuated spousal relationship, a weakened family bond, and lost opportunities to lay down one's life for the other out of love." Finally, from his lived experience of the gospel, Francis understood that love must include mission. To demonstrate this he turns our attention to Mary, the per-fect disciple. Francis's way of being Marian was to emu-late the boundless love of Mary for her Son, love which flowed into the spiritual and corporal works of mer#. . Francis God ~ombats evil through holy~,-rn~n and: women, ~ ,.~.aro~gh tho~ who are dedicated 66.1 2007 Mirkes ¯ Confessions of a Franciscan Etbicist encourages every follower of his to frequently recall the scene of Mary standing beneath the cross, standing in the center of the struggle between good and evil, reminding all--but especially a female Franciscan ethicist like me-- that God combats evil through holy men and women, through those who are dedicated to instructing the ignorant by teaching morality. I confess my belief that today's moral climate requires me to morph into a hybrid ethicist: a Franciscan-Thomist. Recall that my uneasiness with the pope's response to moral relativism was largely because his position--and mine--were in the Aristotelian-Thomistic tradition rather than in the Franciscan tradition. If we had sought a Franciscan answer, it would have come from Bonaventure or his theological successors, Duns Scotus or William of Ockham. Had these men fought a heresy of relativism in their day, they would characteristically have appealed to a voluntarist solution. That is, the best way to avoid the errors of relativism comes from the Platonic way of understanding universal truth, namely, participation in innate ideas. In sum, to avoid the intellectual pride all too easily associated with philosophical speculation, these Franciscan theologians would have insisted that people do best by simply submitting their wills to the universal moral truth brokered by the church's magisterium. The Franciscan/Augustinian solution to moral relativism, then, would not have included rational arguments that yield a reason why people should submit their wills to the church's objective moral teaching.3 Against this background, I take personal solace from a central theme of the pope's theology (which is Augustinian, after all): the need to return to reason as a first step in combating moral relativism. The pope proposes, not naked reason, but reason purified by faith--or clarified by the God who is Logos, who is reason and the Word. A Review for Religious faith that opens people to the living God "liberates reason from its blind spots" so it can be "more fully itself.''4 Implicit in Benedict xvI's critique of relativists--those who contend that judgments about good or bad, right or wrong, are time-and-circumstance matters of personal opinion--is his reliance on Aquinas's philosophical vision of human nature and its transcultural basic needs.5 Since all persons unhampered by ideology, bias, or intellectual sloth can see that these natural needs/goods apply to every human being irrespective of time and culture, they should also agree that these goods ought always be pursued and honored and never denied or suppressed. With these objective human goods in mind, one can set up a series of syllogisms whose conclusions define them as objectively true and universally normative--employ-ing a first premise that has the certitude of self-evident truth and a second premise that cites an observed datum about human nature.6 The following example focuses on the human good of life. First premise: self-evidently, all human beings ought to do all those things and only those things that are really good for them. Second premise: as experience demonstrates, being alive is really good for human beings. Conclusion: every human being ought to seek life and vitality. When we apply this syllogistic argument to other human goods such as wealth, family, procreation, friends, society, play, and the higher goods of wisdom, worship, and contemplation, a set of goods emerges that is not relativist, that is, good for this or that person because of his or her desires or cultural pref-erences, but objectivist and universal, that is, good for all human beings whatever the time and circumstances. Furthermore, since all human beings have a right to this set of real goods, they also have a duty to require legisla-tures and judiciaries to enact and uphold laws forbidding their destruction or suppression. 66.1 2007 Mirkes * Confessions of a Franciscan Ethicist Pope Benedict XVI understands why a Dominican and Thomist solution to moral relativism is the way to go. It offers a discussion matrix within which to address the many fellow pilgrims of his who, by dint of being mari-nated in the skepticism and moral relativism of our day, require cogent persuasiveness for submitting to universal moral norms. And so I must be Aristotelian and Thomist in the content of my moral methods, all the while endeav-oring to have the Franciscan spirit shine through the way I do ethics.7 To conclude, then, I need only repeat my opening statement: "Confessions are never easy." But I can honestly add that this tripartite confession has con-tributed mightily to the lived mission of this Christian, religious, and F~:anciscan ethicist. Notes ~ Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger, "Relativism: The Central Problem for Faith Today," available through http://www.ewtn.com. See also The Ratzhlger Repo~7 (San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 1985); Priuciples of Christian Morality (Ignatius Press, German 1975, English 1986); Without Roots (New York: Basic Books, 2006), and Values in a Time of Upheaval (Ignatius Press, 2006). 2 For an historical analysis of Franciscan charisms, I recommend an article by Raffaele Pazzelli TOR on Franciscan spirituality at www.fran-ciscanfriarstor. com/vocations. Mso the commentary at another section of the same website: www.franciscanfriarstor.com/resources. -~In the 13th century, the Dominican Albert the Great produced vast commentaries on Aristotle. In them Albert took full account of the work of the great Aristotelian translator and commentator Averroes (Ibn Rushd), while not neglecting to cgrrect his anti-Christian errors, hnportantly, Mbert began to clarify, why Aristotle criticized Plato. The latter had a dualistic notion of the human person that made a correct theory of the human body impossible. It was, however, only with Albert's pupil Thomas Aquinas that this point was fully developed. Unfortunately, Aquinas's work got confused with Averroism in the list of propositions condemned by the archbishop of Paris in 1277. As a result the Franciscans thought it best to retain their dedication to St. Augustine and to minimize the influ-ence of philosophy on theology. This is evident in the great works of St. Bonaventure, who tended to think of philosophy as a pagan tradition and Review for Religious strove to keep theology free of the errors of that tradition. Later Blessed John Duns Scotus and V~illiam of Ockham made more use of Aristotle, hut still remained skeptical of the power of human reason. Consequently--and tragically--the Franciscan and Dominican traditions were never recon-ciled. Ockham became a Nominalist and finally schismatic, and his distrust of reason to prove the existence of God was basic to Luther's thought and the split in the church brought about in the Protestant Reformation. 4 Pope Benedict XVI, Deus Caritas Est, §29. SMortimer Adler, Adler's Philosophical Dictionary (New York: Touchstone Books, 1995), p. 13. Perhaps the most egregious example of judicial moral relativism is encapsulated in the opinion of Justice Anthony Kennedy in Planned Parenthood v. Casey: "At the heart of liberty, is the right to define one's own concept of existence, of the meaning of the universe, and of the mystery of human life." (' Mortimer Adler, Ten Philosophical Mistakes (New York: Touchstone Books, 1985), p. 126. Y The Franciscan tradition has made great theological contributions to the church: the understanding of the doctrine of Mary's Assumption, St. Bonaventure's reflection of the Trinity. in creation, remarkable advances in natural science in the 14th and 15th centuries, and influential tracts on spirituality. On the other hand, as regards the theology of the body and virtue theory in ethics, the Dominican Thomas Aquinas has been con-stantly praised as the Common Doctor of the church. Since I work princi-pally in bioethics, I use his contribution and assimilate it to my Franciscan tradition in a harmonious, and not merely eclectic way. I encourage more Franciscans to do research in this field. Franciscan humility, it seems to me, demands as much. 66.1 2007 COLLEEN MARY MALLON Reclaiming Hope, Recovering Dialogue To recent experiences frame my reflection on pe in a global world. Recently, as part of a theo-logical update program for our diocese, I spoke on the Spirit and the chui'ch, focusing on themes that emerge from Yves Congar's great work I Believe in the Holy Spirit. Following the presentations, a number of the participants told of having new sources of hope opened up to them. I, too, was struck by the longing of these faith-filled minis-ters to connect to a vital and vibrant hope, to be deeply, ecclesia@ alive in the Spirit, and to share that life with others. There were charisms in that room that, wisely nurtured and supported, could set the diocese ablaze with the Spirit. Clearly, the desert is seeded; with more water, what a riot of flowers there would be. My second experience comes from St. John's University in New York, where I teach the introductory Colleen Mary Mallon OP first presented this essay as a talk on 21 April 2006 at Molloy College's Women of Spirit symposium. She is assistant professor of theology and religious studies at St. John's University; 8000 Utopia Parkway; Jamaica, New York 11439. Review for Religious course in theology. Early in the semester the students discuss Marcus Borg's explication of religious faith. Borg speaks about faith as assensus, intellectual affirmation, fiducia, complete trust, fidelitas, loyalty, and visio, how a person perceives the world from the perspective of faith.~ In each class the difficulty is not faith as trust or loyalty; it is faith as vision. Their vision of faith is stymied by the suffering, the struggle, and the pain that they encounter in the world. At best they hold a cautious hope that God might be at work in it all, but for most of them we live in a thoroughly indifferent universe. The fundamental faith/ hope in a gracious universe is all but nonexistent. These experiences press me to reexamine my own sources and senses of hope. With what theological visio do I see the present moment? How do I bear witness to gospel hope in these times: war in Iraq, worldwide trafficking of women and children, irruption of sectar-ian violence, the ever escalating divide between the have-mores and have-nots, the continuation of white privilege. And, closer to the bone, how do I claim a gospel hope in a church beset by the scandals of abuse and neglect, by clericalism, and by the antipathies of diverse members of the Body of Christ. My search for a response to these questions brought me back into the work and thinking of the French Dominican theologian and ecclesiologist Yves Congar. His experience of intense social, political, and ecclesial upheaval tempered his own sober confidence in the church as the continuing event of Jesus Christ in the world. I believe his perspective brings gospel hope and historical reality into a fertile, albeit tensive, dynamic. He and other French Dominicans contributed in no small way to the refashioning of theology in the 20th century. Their pertinence to wise theological vision in a global world is not to be overlooked. Using a feminist methodology which asserts that 66.1 2007 Mallon ¯ Reclaiming Hope, Recovering Dialogue "God is be discovered in human experience," let us look at the hungers and obstacles that we face at this time both as individuals and as members of a diverse and complex Christian tradition.2 Seeking what the Divine Presence desires of us at this time is, I believe, the very stuff of engaged discipleship. Discerning how contradictions and struggles mark our ecclesial experiences calls for both vir-rue and skill. I propose that the virtue is hope and that the skills include practices and behaviors that witness to our hope and even expand the horizon of our own gospel faith. If we listen carefully to what lies beneath our experiences so as to attend to the Mystery--infinitely beyond and yet intimately present to our present--we may encounter, even in "the incomplete" and "the lack," a power and a grace worthy of our freedom. I want to sketch a little more thoroughly thesigns of these global times and then turn to Yves Congar for his theological vision, for how it may inspire hope in the church today. The Signs of These Global Times There is no lack of scholarly analysis of globalization and the religious questions that emerge from the unprec-edented movement of people, ideas, and commodities.3 I want to look at the challenges that living in "glocal" presents.4 The anthropologist Roland Robertson uses the term "glocal" for the juncture where the global and local meet.5 Our contemporary experience of this global-local situation is a significant historical factor in our lives today. This is where we discern signs of the times and make decisions as disciples of Jesus. The theologian David Tracy is famous for the claim that we live in an age that cannot name itself.6 Our global-human existence contains such conflicting world-views that no one way, no single story, can hold us as a human family. Moreover, the very stories that perceive Review for Religious individuals and communities in significant patterns have become mobile. Peoples once geographically distinct are now mixing, interacting, and living in patterns that may be completely foreign to their nextdoor neighbor. Sociologists and anthropologists tell us that we, as global residents, are experiencing "flows" of people, resources, and information in ways never before experienced on the planet.7 Dual factors, media and migration, cause the global experience of compression and expansion? We experience global compression whenever we become aware of the nar-rowed space between once distant geographic entities. Exotic strangers now live close to each other in global cities that have drawn peoples together for a host of different reasons: as tourists, as migrant workers, as refugees, as executive elites. Globalization is reshaping our economic, political, and cultural worlds, and this brings a variety of ways of perceiving and evaluating the production of today's tech-nologically sophisticated societies.9 The flow of the classic Enlightenment notions of "democracy," "freedom," and "sovereignty" into new global spaces stirs in them new instances of these Western ideas. What would "democ-racy" look like for women'in a predominantly Shiite Iraq? What does the "sovereignty" of a Palestinian state, led by a newly elected Hamas government, mean for the established national states of the world? In truth, there is no longer one kind of modernity; many modernities are competing around the globe.~° These observations point to the growing tension between the global and the local which Roland Robertson describes as the "contemporary manifestation of the universal-particular dilemma.''~1 We 66.1 2007 Mallon ¯ Reclaiming Hope, Recovering Dialogue live in a world where we truly grasp universals (such as freedom, peace, prosperity) only in particular instances. And there seems to be no end of particulars; we keep discovering uniqueness, singularities, and individualities. We have come to accept, in a sense, one universal: that there are limitless particularities.~2 As Christians we recognize something of this dilemma in the wide range of our ecclesial experiences: the rise of local, base communities of gospel reflection, the renewed focus on particular denominational identities (what does it mean to be a Catholic college or university or hospital?), young people's search for their Christian identity, the rise of religious fundamentalism. Even the concerns regarding the proper role of local episcopal conferences expresses this global-local tension. The question of subsidiarity and collegiality is a much different question today than it was forty years ago at Vatican II. The experience of great diversity raises new questions about the "taken-for-grantedness" of the underlying unity of humanity. Various interpretative frameworks and femi-nist, postcolonial, and postmodern sensibilities foster a new global consciousness of "the other" and "difference." Indigenous stories, newly valorized, emerge on the global scene and inspire local resistance to ideas from outside; these "new primordialisms," freshly reshaped and refash-ioned cultural identities, whet deep appetites for mean-ing and consequence that seemingly transcend, for some people, their own existence.~3 Suicide bombers testify in ways we never expected to the power of meaning in human lives. Disconnected in their storied worlds from wider significance, people become anxious, aggravated, even deadly. New claims for authoritative traditions raise all sorts of questions about identity and symbols and whether our belonging to a particular group prohibits other kinds of Review for Religious belonging. It is in these particularisms that we often expe-rience the tensions of our ecclesial life. Can I be a Catholic and a Democrat? Can I be a feminist and "pro-life"? Like the world we are inescapably a part of, our ecclesial iden-tifies feel the pressure of the global-local predicament and challenges to past certitudes. As these new horizons open, our shared understandings of the gospel cross over into disputed spaces of lived experiences. Within those spaces there appears to be diminishing tolerance among us. Our particular community niche imposes limits on both our imaginations and our practices of tolerance. Many within the church find it increasingly difficult to engage in civil conversations across the wide diversity of perspectives. As the theologian Joseph Komonchak noted in an address to the Catholic Common Ground Initiative, "to judge from a few Internet discussions., many Catholics could learn a thing or two about elementary courtesy, about how to listen and how to speak, about give and take.''14 What hope can we have for a truly "catholic" future when our practice of dialogue mirrors the enclave mentality of our global world? Yves Congar's Incarnational Approach What might a thoroughly 20th-century, white, European, friar-preacher and theologian offer in support of hope in these times? Congar's incarnational, historical approach to theology certainly contributed to the theol-ogy in his day. Early in his theological vocation, Congar understood that he was called to serve the unity of a pain-fully divided Christian community.is Within this call grew his conviction that the dominant mode of doing theology was unnecessarily abstract and all too disconnected from the lives of ordinary people.16 His approach to theology developed from his fraternal relationships with Marie Dominic Chenu and Henri Ma]'ie Feret. Living and 66.1 2007 Mallon * Reclaiming Hope, Recovetqng Dialogue teaching at the French Dominican studium Le SaulchoiT; these three Dominicans plotted the demise of what they called "baroque theology." Congar recalls a particular day when they conceived of a research project on the history of theology. One day, chatting at the entrance of the old Saulchoi,; we found ourselves in profound accord--at once intel-lectual, vital, and apostolic--on the idea of undertaking a "liquidation of baroque theology." This was a moment of intense and total spiritual union . It was not a question of producing something negative: the rejections were only the reverse of aspects that were more positive. One day the balance will be drawn up, but already the positive quality can be sensed. What would a little later be called "ressourcement" was then at the heart of our efforts. It was not a matter either of mechanically replac-ing some theses by other theses or creating a "revolu-tion" but of appealing, as P4guy says, from one tradition less profound to another more profound.~7 This historical approach, learned at Le Saulchoh" and prac-ticed throughout his life, allowed Congar to develop a theology that was more deeply rooted in revelation and at the same time open to the pressing questions of the 20th century.~s It is Congar's approach to revelation that I believe is a critical point of departure. Many theologians regard Congar as the foremost expert on the Christian tradition, and anyone engaged in a theology of tradition cannot pro-ceed without Congar. Some contemporary scholars have noted that, while Congar's view of tradition is stunningly comprehensive, it lacks a necessary attention to the way in which meaning and power are inexorably intertwined. One theologian calls Congar's approach highly idealistic.~9 I have wrestled with this critique because, in some sense, it is a legitimate one. Clearly, Congar missed the post-modern critique of power/knowledge, and his very small Review for Religious reflections on women in relation to ministry and God-language betray his incomplete grasp of feminist concerns and questions.2° I do believe, however, that Congar's intu-ition concerning revelation and history is still significant because it is a profoundly catholic intuition. By this I mean that part of Congar's genius is his confi-dence in the fertile ground found at the intersection of the gospel and the ultimate concerns of people. As I read his theological project, I believe that the starting point of the-ology for Congar is the God-human relationship. Only in and through this relation-ship is knowledge of God possible: a relationship initiated and realized in history, in specific bodies, within unique and diverse human cultures. To make the God-human relation-ship the starting point ointp theologyfor Congar is the ,;, !GOd h :r an Telationship. of theology is to refuse to dissolve the tension between transcendence and immanence; it is, in fact, to claim that tension is integral to our graced existence in this world, in these bodies, at this time in history. I believe that this is a remarkable source of hope for us today. The mind-numb-ing, spirit-quenching materialism of much of our world has laid us low. Our own mystery as beings-made-for-love-and- truth is threatened by the pervasive consumerism that warps our sense of what it means to be human and happy. Our wishes are marketed to us as needs, things we lack are represented to us as inalienable rights, our unwise choices are blindly considered joys of freedom. The God-human Relationship To make the God-human relationship the starting point of our reflection is to reclaim both history and mys- 66.1 2007 Mallon ¯ Reclaiming Hope, Recovering Dialogue tery, and to do so in a way that is not naively romantic nor overconfident either, overreaching our finitude as crea-tures. If we allow materialism to flatten our perceptions, we lose the .meanings and values that animate our worlds of sight and sound, the very worlds through which the Divine Life communicates. In the words of Congar, "the regenerative power that will finally operate is already at work in our world, transiently, precariously, fragmentarily, and generally unperceived.''2~ This power is nothing less than the life of God poured out so that all may have life in its fullness (Jn 10:10). The "good news" manifest in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus makes explicit this divine intention for all creation, overcoming every possible alienation, division, obstacle, and separation. For Congar, this is the heart of the incarnation. God's involvement with creation is utterly personal and pro-foundly existential. "God is not the 'eternal celibate of the centuries,' but love and goodness," who creates beings "animate[d] . . . with a movement and., a desire that is an echo in them of [God's] own desire . . . revealed to us as [God's] spirit.''22 48 The Gift and Task of Discipleship For Congar, we cannot speak properly of the human outside the graced relationship that has called all creation into existence for the divine purposefulness that is agapic love. To be human is to have as gift what grace alone brings to completion.23 For Christians, the deepest, truest realization of the project called "humanity" is in receiving the embrace of a Trinity-imbued life; nothing less than the Word and the Spirit continue to effect the fulfillment of "all things in God.''24 And this fulfillment is not some-thing abstract or ethereal. "The Spirit makes it possible for us to know, recognize, and experience Christ. This is not simply a doctrinal statement. It is an existential reality Review for Religious which comes from a gift and involves us in our lives.''2s Our lives, lived Godward, immerse us in the Christian mystery that is simultaneously a gift received and a task entrusted. For Congar, the gift character of Christian life lies in Jesus' mystery becoming our mystery.-'6 Our immer-sion into Christ makes us new creation, or, as Joseph Komonchak says, "Faith discloses a new world of great depth and breadth and a new self within it.''27 In a global world where the media and the Internet hawk lifescripts to eager, vulnerable consumers, we must not lose sight of the liberating gift disclosed in Jesus; we must never forget Jesus' attractiveT~ess. Through his life, death, and resurrection, we encounter the agapic love that alone is worthy of our freedom. Moreover, we touch upon what Gustavo Gutidrrez has called the first step of all theo-logical reflection: adoration.28 The gift character of our discipleship opens us to God's utterly gratuitous love for all creation. Our only adequate response is the searingly silent gratitude of the mystic heart. To be found by this love is to find ourselves in a new relationship with all of reality, and to allow it to govern our existence both individually and communally, as both mystery and history. The gift given in revelation and received in our very being discloses to us the potential within all creation. We can only know a small part of this all-surpassing gift, but the task entrusted to us, to realize the potential of our graced existence, is of utmost importance for humanity. Our global-local world teaches us that particularity counts, that only in the bodies and histories and cultures of actual, unique persons can the transformation of the whole happen. The gift inspires the task. The gift of God's agapic love points and directs us towards the places where mercy, peace, justice, and reconciliation ache to be realized. Our 66.1 2007 Mallon ¯ Reclaiming Hope, Recovering Dialogue hope does not lie in some perfect world without the great risks that our freedom in history poses. Our hope lies in our unflinching reliance on the gift of the Spirit as we humbly and confidently put our freedom at the service of in some perfect wqrld without the great risks our freedom in history po eS.- the Love that has called us into existence. We recognize today, more than any other time, just how difficult that is. Our freedoms are conditioned by diverse worlds of meaning, some of which do not easily or comfortably coexist. We acknowledge an exasperating pluralism: global technologies that isolate just as much as they bridge. What ways of being disciples might help our hope and deepen Love's grasp, of our lives? Can diverse Christian reflections on the meaning of Jesus speak to each other? Can we practice curiosity and abstain from obstinate judgments? To imagine our discipleship as gift and task in a global world demands, I believe, a new asceticism that curbs our penchant to overindulge in communities of like-mindedness, that calls us to be different from nar-rowly framed groups around us, that calls us to the hard work of dialogical communion, expressed in new practices of ecclesial hospitality. The Task of Dialogical Communion There are behaviors and skills that can show widely that "the regenerating power that will finally operate is already at work in our world." There are disciplines that, if embraced, can witness to human life as dialogical communion. The diversity of the cosmos is authored and authorized by the Source of all life, in whose Mystery Review for Religious diversity poses no threat to unity. In the divine economy, unity stimulates diversity. The gift inspires the task. Dialogical communion 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. Emerging from enclave mentalities into the liminal spaces of dialogue is, indeed, risky, business. Transgressing the boundaries of worlds of shared commitments and understandings takes great courage, and not only because of the encounter with difference. In a recent talk at St. John's University, Gerry Adams, leader of the Sein Fein party, spoke of the Irish Peace Process. The single most important element of the peace process, according to Adams, is dialogue: getting people to step out of their hard-fought divisions and to speak to each other. But Adams insists that the hardest dialogue is not with the perceived enemy; it is with your own group. Transgressing the boundaries of our habitation disturbs our communi-ties of like-mindedness. We put our identity at risk; our loyalties may be questioned; we may seem to have lost our regard for once-shared values and visions; we may be accused of undermining the very distinctiveness of our group. And we may become agents of change: midwives to the gestating life of redeemed humanity. If our diversity is no mistake, if our global-human condition confronts us, not only with challenges, but with the deep truth that our differences and particularities are the only way we have to express our essential humanity, then we will have to practice a new ldnd of countercultur-alism. When we become aware that the very diversity that delights God troubles and disturbs us, we have stepped into a moment ripe for conversion. I have the privilege of being a board member of the Parable Conference, an organization whose purpose is to make space for dialogue 66.1 2007 Mallon ¯ Reclaiming Hope, Recovering Dialogue Embracing the task Of_ dialogical commun_ion mopes us from false impressions and prejudgment~ to respect and curiosity. among all the branches of the Dominican family in the United States. No other entity for that dialogue exists in the United States. I remember the moment when I saw how mistaken my perceptions of the Dominican laity were. My prejudgment was an obstacle mercifully revealed and dispelled by new relationships with women and men whose embrace of the Dominican charism is truly inspiring. The Parable Conference struggles to keep the dia-logue alive among U.S. Dominicans; it is not an easy task. Ideology, apathy, and enmity challenge our attempts to be in authentic communion across the wide scope of the Dominican .family. Yet the very existence of this group is a good example of the order's preaching charism. Without the witness of an actual, historical community struggling to hold and engage the truths emerging from diverse God experiences, our words are empty and ~ our witness a mere shadow of what it could be. Embracing the task of dia-logical communion moves us from false impressions and prejudgments to respect and curiosity. In a contentiously divided global world, the practice of dialogical commu-nion bears witness every time we risk the hospitable effort to "make space" for each other. In his book Exc&sion and Embrace, the Lutheran theo-logian Miroslav Volf writes, "The will to give ourselves to others and 'welcome them,' to readjust our identities to make space for them, is prior to any judgment., except that of identifying them in their humanity.''29 When I attended Good Friday services last April, I observed a Review for Religious couple in the pew ahead of me struggle to "make space." It was an odd scene, because clearly there was enough space for everyone in the pew. For some reason, however, the woman-already-seated would not move all the way over; when another couple arrived, they had to practically sit on each other. I waited, thinking she would see the problem and adjust, move over just a bit more. No. She looked, made a fussy little head movement, and remained; eventually the intruding couple sat elsewhere. Then she moved over! Now there was plenty of space, and a few minutes later two others filled the pew. Why is it so hard to make space? Why is hospitality so difficult at times? I do not pretend to have a simple answer. I only know that there is a simple answer, and that this incident serves as a parable about the demands of dialogical communion. We need to secure a place where dialogue can happen. We have to cultivate the skills and disciplines that allow for the dignified existence of oth-ers. Without this space we risk the loss of real encounter and the grace it may hold for us. We lose an opportunity to witness to an authentic faith-filled visit, a gospel hope worthy of our fragile freedom. Congar reminds us that theology is not a deadly repetition of neatly worked out dogmatic statements. Disconnected from the existential reality of "someone's living thought," theology "will not bear its fruit.''3° We stand in danger, today, of losing that precious space where we respectfully, thoughtfully, and critically engage the "living thought" of someone else. Dialogical communion might be thought of as the inten-tional practice of hospitality towards those with whom we may not fully agree, or simply do not understand. People securing space for the complex and contrasting truths that emerge from deep diversities are signs of these times: "deep diversity" calls for an equally deep curiosity.3! 66.1 2007 Mallon ¯ Reclaiming Hope, Recovering Dialogue If our starting point remains the God-human rela-tionship, then we will be convinced that Mystery touches us only in history. The truth that embraces us in each encounter with the God of life is one, but its manifesta-tions are multiple. Indeed, genuine engagement of the God-human relationship continues to yield wise and chal-lenging expressions of Christian discipleship: the irrup-tion of the poor into history and the holistic vision of the reign of God as presented in theologies of libera-tion, the gospel reflection of women bringing forth new constructive theologies and the prophetic link with eco-logical consciousness and responsibility, the theologies of human rights that seek out space where diverse religions may work together for peace and the dignity of human life, and the emerging reflection on the other face of rac-ism, namely, white privilege and continuing exclusion of people of color. These truths of discipleship call us to examine anew the precious gift of our graced and historically precarious human existence. They call for a deeper asceticism and humility; they inspire a wondrous reverence for God and a curiosity about the things of God. They invite us to sus-pend our judgments so as to make space for each other and, in the very act of "maki~g space," encounter the God, who does more in us and with us than we can ask or imag-ine (Ep 3:20). "Making space" may well be the greatest and most fruitful spiritual discipline we can practice as a global church so as to be genuinely attentive to the Spirit in a world newly awakened to its divinely conceived diversity. 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? Review for Religious Notes ~ Marcus Borg, "Faith: The \a, ray of the Heart," in The Heart of Christianity: Rediscovering a Life of Faith (San Francisco: HarperCollins, 2004), pp. 25-42. 2 Mary Catherine Hilkert, "Tradition and Experience," in Freeing Theology: The Essentials of Theology in Feminist Perspective, ed. Catherine Mowry LaCugna (San Francisco: HarperCollins, 1993), p. 60. 3 For an overview of the many facets of the phenomenon of glo-balization, see The Globalization Reader; ed. Frank J. Lechner and John Boli (Maiden, Mass.: Blackwell, 2000), and Patrick O'Meara, Howard D. Mehlinger, and Matthew Krain, eds., Globalization and the Challenges of a New Centmy: A Reader (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2000). 4 See Robert J. Schreiter, The New Catholicity: Theology between the Global and the Local (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1997). s Roland Robertson, "Glocalization: Time-Space and Homogeneity- Heterogeneity," in Global Mode, v,ities, ed. Scott Lash and Roland Robertson (London: SAGE, 1995). ~ David Tracy, On Naming the Present (New York: Orbis Books, 1994), p. 3. 7 See in particular Arjun Appadarai's seminal essay "Disjuncture and Difference in the Global Cultural Economy," in Mode~vtity at Large: Cultural Dimensions of Globalization (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota, 1996), pp. 27-47. s See in particular Robert Schreiter, "Globalization and the Contexts of Theology," in his New Catboliciq, pp. 1-27. 9 See Saskia Sassen, Globalization and Its Discontents: Essays on the New Mobiliq of People and Money (New York: New Press, 1998). ~0 Mike Featherstone, Undoing Culture: Globalization, Postmode~ism, and Identity (London: SAGE Publications, 1995). ~ Roland Robertson, Globalization: Social Theory and Global Culture (London: SAGE Publications, 1992), p. 100. 1, As Roland Robertson expresses it, "there is virtually no limit to particularity, to uniqueness, to difference, to otherness." Robertson, Globalization, p. 102. ~3 See in particular Benedict Anderson, hnagined Communities: Reflections on the Origin and Spread of Nationali.~n (London: Verso, 1991). ~4 Joseph Komonchak, "Is Christ Divided? Dealing with Diversity and Disagreement," Origins 33 (9): 140-147. ~ In a number of interviews, Congar traced his lifelong devotion to the unity the Christian churches to a siugular moment of contemplation. "It was while meditating upon the seventeenth chapter of St. John's Gospel 66.1 2007 Mallon ¯ Reclaiming Hope, Recovering Dialogue that I clearly recognized my vocation to work for the unity of all who believe in Jesus Christ." Yves Congar, Dialogue between Christians: Catholic Contributions to Ecumenism, trans. Philip Loretz SJ (London: Geoffrey Chapman, 1966), p. 3. ~'~ "We are too prone to be satisfied with a dogma in itself, which has not to be worked out but is all laid down in the catechism or the theologi-cal manuals. We retail it, we are purveyors of orthodox theology, and that is all. We are in the process of finding that a dogma must be someone's dogma or someone's living thought, otherwise it will not bear its fruit." Yves Congar, Priest and Layman (London: Darton, Longman, & Todd, 1967), p. 209. ~7 Yves Congar, "The Brother I Have Known," The Thomist, 49 (4): 495-503. 1~ For an excellent essay on Congar's life as a theologian, see Etienne Fouilloux, "Friar Yves, Cardinal Congar, Dominican: History of a Theologian," U.S. Catholic Historian 17 (2). ~9 Vincent Miller, "History. of Geography? Gadamer, Foucault, and Theologies of Tradition," in Theology and the New Histories, ed. Gary. Macy (Maryknolh Orbis Books, 1999), pp. 56-85. 20 Congar, however, was not in any sense na'ive with regard to abuses of power, particularly in his ongoing concern for a dialogical church. "In polemics., or in any form of controversy devoid of dialogue, I interpose my own personal power, or rather that of a social formation whose views I am defending, such as a nation, a church, a culture, a social group or class, or a nexus of collective interests. Certain questions, such as that of colonialism in its most absolute form, might be approached from this point of view." Congar, Dialogue between Christians, p. 55. :~ Yves Congar, Lay People in the Church, trans. Donald Atwater (~'Vestminster, Maryland: Newman Press, 1957), p. 86. 22 Yves Congar, 1 Believe in the Holy Spirit, Vol. 2, He Is Lord and Giver of Life, trans. David Smith (New York: Seabury Press, 1983), p. 67. ~3 Yves Congar, This CT;urch That I Love, trans. Lucien Delafuente (Denville, New Jersey: Dimension Books, 1969). 24 Congar, I Believe, vol. 2, p. 12. 's Congar, I Believe, vol. 2, p. 37. z6 Congar, Lay People, p. 57. 27 Komonchak, "Is Christ Divided?" p. 76. :s The "adoration of God and the doing of God's will are necessary. conditions for thinking about God." Gustavo Guti~rrez, The T~vah Shall Set You Free: Conf!'ontations, trans. MatthewJ. O'Connell (Maryknolh Orbis Books, 1990), p. 55. Review for Religious 2,; Miroslav Volf, Exclusion and Emb~wce: A Theological Exploration of Identity, Otberness, and Reconciliation (Nashville: Abingdon, 1996), p. 29. 30 Congar, Priest and Layman, p. 209. 3~ See Charles Taylor's discussion of "deep diversity" in "Shared and Divergent Values," in his Reconciling the Solitudes: Essays on Canadian Federalism and Nationalism (Montreal/Kingston: McGill-Queen's University Press, 1993), pp. 155-186. Personal Reflection/Group Discussion In today's church do I find in myself a growing inability to listen and to dialogue with others about my own beliefs and values? What can I do to develop a more tolerant attitude in myself and so help others to become more tolerant? Do I understand dialogical cornmunion? What are some of the challenges ! would face with the people with whom I live and work? 66.1 2007 ROSE HOOVER Why Do We Gather? A Journey Together community We live in an age when young adults rarely consider religious life an option for themselves. Are we dinosaurs with primordial behavior pat-terns? Do we know why we come together in religious communities in this day and age--or in any day and age? There are varieties of commu-nity, but in this article I simply want to reflect on religious community's purpose, whether we are talking about community under one roof or community in a broader sense that does not nec-essarily mean living together. Why do we gather together? For example, are we brought together as religious for the pur-pose of a particular task? Do we form commu-nity for thesake of the ministry we do? Many people get together for special endeavors and enjoyments--music groups and sports teams, for example. Some groups even live together, like Rose Hoover RC last wrote for this journal in March-April 1992. Her address is Cenacle Sisters; 505 Northeast 5th Avenue; Gainesville, Florida 32601. Review for Religious the ad hoc assemblages on some reality shows. We too have tasks we desire to accomplish, tasks not only pre-cious to us but valuable for the people of God. We know that good community life can help us in our ministries. But is ministry the reason we come together? Today other people do the same ministries we do, and do them just as well, without being members of religious communi-ties. If religious community is for the purpose of carrying out ministry, and if the ministry no longer necessitates coming together in community, then is our gathering as consecrated religious also unnecessary? What about forming relationships? There was a lot of talk a few years ago about relational communities as distinct from task-ori-ented communities. A quick Internet search shows that concept to be far from dead today. As Christians we are indeed called to be in relationship both with God and with other ~ i."~ W:~t~hou~t~:i')ood "rdationships, ,- iydividuals and communities Christians. Without good relationships, individuals and communities are bound to be lifeless. And so compan-ionship, relationships, belong in consecrated life. In fact, loving presence is necessary in consecrated life. But com-panionship, even deep companionship, can be had in other ways, some of them far easier than religious community. Neither friendship nor c6mpanionship, of course, can be the main purpose of religious community. As Antoine de Saint-Exup~ry writes in l/Vind, Sm~d, and Stars, "Love does not consist in gazing at each other, but in looking together in the same direction." In Christian community, if our primary gaze is on each other rather than on Christ, we are not on the way to true communion. 66.1 2007 Hoover ¯ Why Do We Gather? Religious cOmmunity is no way to flee,the,World; the world walks right-inl Wit,h,us.o Can religious community exist for the purpose of mak-ing the practical details of life more economical or more simple? It certainly can, though it does not always do so. In our university town we see students who live together to save money and make life less burdensome, leaving more time and energy for studies. Religious communi-ties, too, can live simply and economically--and even live gospel poverty. But is this all there is to it? Communities, even small ones, can provide security. People throughout the centuries have banded together for the sake of security. Gated communities thrive today. California lays claim to at least three gated cities--in effect, walled towns: Rolling Hills, Hidden Hills, and Canyon Lake. Probably some peo-pie enter religious life to be safe from the dangers of the "world" (or other dangers they somehow perceive). We know from experi-ence that religious community is no way to flee the world, if for no other reason than that the world walks right in with us. Security, then, cannot be the purpose of coming together as religious. There has to be more to religious community than any of these reasons, more even than all of them together. Parker Palmer, a Quaker, who at the time of writing an article for Desert Call (1987) was part of an intentional community, puzzled over the historical longevity of monasticism, given the difficulties of community life. He concluded that it is because the monks "created a form of community that brings them together not for the purpose of togetherness but to support each other in the rigors of the inward journey.''~ Review for Religious To support each other on the inward journey, the spiritual journey, is indeed rigorous. It has no less a goal than transforming union with Jesus Christ. That, after all, is the Christian call. The road can be rocky, and pitfalls can lie along the path. There can be pain and discourage-ment, but also joy, peace, and love. Moments of grace can astonish, but then there may be long and numbing stretches of boredom. At times we wish to shuffle along complacently, and at other times we are strong against the enemy's wiles. We have glimmers of understanding and then clouds of miserable confusion. The journey is truly rigorous. There is no way to make it alone. Whether we thought about it this way or not, this is the reason we entered religious life. God knew the pur-pose even if we did not--the call to give ourselves wholly to God by following a path of transforming union in love. This path not only blesses us with love and forgiveness, it also demands much of us. It requires prayer. This needs to be said bluntly here because, though for some people prayer is pure joy, for others it is a demand, a rigorous one. And, as for praying together, some find it no bur-den at all, while others are being sorely tested. The need for prayer implies the need to find time for prayer, the courage to carve a quiet niche for it when society--and sometimes religious life as well--would instead reward us for constant activity. How many times have we heard someone say with a hint of pride in her voice, "I haven't had a day off in months"? Or maybe we have even made that boast ourselves. As our life goes on, we have opportunities and duties to learn compassion toward the uncompassionate and to love those who do not love us._We learn to see loveliness in those who appear unlovely, sometimes being surprised at seeing our own kind of goodness in someone we never even liked. We find ourselves acknowledging our own 66.1 2007 Hoover ¯ Why Do We Gather? sinfulness, our helplessness, our inability to understand ourselves or the God who loves us and in whose image we are made. The spiritual journey brings people to a better vision of life--but usually without visions. Along the way we more and more take on the mind of Christ, who emptied himself. We learn not to cling to anything, not to hold anything back. We take one step at a time, without know-ing where the road winds and often without being sure that the next step is the right one. The road through our interior landscape may lack clear markers; misty weather may obscure them and make us forget the presence of God. Formidable though the way may be, it is precisely here that we find our delight. The God who created the universe, who fills the cosmos, who was and is and ever shall be, this God is both our companion and our destina-tion. After beginning on this path, any other way seems dull and senseless, hardly worth the trouble of putting one foot in front of the other. To make the most of this wondrous journey and to smooth its progress, we gather together. We support one another by our words, our prayers, and our presence, and we grant one another the silence and solitude we all need. And, when we become discouraged like Elijah lying under the broom tree, we take for each other the role of the angel who said, "Get up and eat, otherwise the journey will be too much for you" (1 K 19:7, NRSV). We have to admit, though, that sometimes our sisters and brothers the~nselves can be part of the "burning of the noontide heat, and the burden of the day."-' The com-munity may be the very reason we long to crawl under the broom tree and disappear in sleep. But the burdens and the blessings of the road are intermingled and often indis-tinguishable from one another. What seems like a bur-den may in reality be a blessing, and each blessing tends Review for Religious to bring with it its own weight, imperceptible at times, greatly evident at others. In community, as we accompany each other along the way, as we support each other, we bring ourselves to the mix of people, we give ourselves as gifts. As with ordinary gifts, we do not know if we have chosen the right gift for the right person. We sincerely hope we have, and that we are not bringers of burdens or disappointments. In this we all develop subtle social gifts of giving and receiving, giving benefits shyly and having doubts beneficially, all the while sharing in mystery. What, then, is the role of our ministry? Is the value of ministry lessened if the work we are called to do is not our chief reason for coming together? Not at all. Without the inward journey, our ministry lacks integrity. A reli-gious community with a task--even a noble task--as its primary purpose risks allowing both community and task to become sterile. The apostolate is inseparable from the path of transforming union. Like cotton canvas garden-ing gloves, our ministry, hand in hand with prayerfulness, brings our patient dedication to flower in ways beyond imagining--more .and more the work of Christ. We our-selves are transformed into the compassionate and merci-ful Christ for each other and for the world. Notes ~ Parker Palmer, "The Monastic V~ay to Church Renewal," Desert Call, ¼qnter 1987: 8-9. 2 Elizabeth C. Clephane, "Beneath the Cross of Jesus," 1868. 66.1 2007 ROBERT SCHIELER An Experience of Jesus and His Brothers During Holy Week 2006 three hundred De La Salle Christian Brothers gathered in retreat to discern a future together. Under the banner "An Experience of Jesus and His Brothers," we brothers from three East Coast provinces~ and Toronto, Canada, desire to imagine more of a future than merging our provinces into one. As in other congregations, the reason for con-sidering a shared future is the diminishment and aging in our provinces. In recent years the provinces have spon-sored joint formation programs, retreats, workshops, and council meetings. This gathering helped us become even more familiar with one another and our hopes and dreams. From the beginning we wanted to explore creative approaches to consolidation. We saw the merging of provinces as perhaps an administrative necessity but no guarantee for future viability and vitality. Our goal was to Robert Schieler FSC writes from Christian Brothers Provincialate; P.O. Box 29; Adamstown, Maryland 21710. Review for Religious make our network of ministries more effective. These ways were to include a renewed passion for our life together as brothers in community and for our consecrated life in the following of Jesus. The aim of the communal retreat was to facilitate achieving these goals. In the preceding eighteen months, a planning com-mittee guided local community conversations around the Triduum. Four prayer services with reflection questions were prepared for Trinity Sunday, when communities nor-mally .plan for the year, the first Sunday in Advent, and the first Sunday in Lent. Reflection questions sought to mirror sessions that would take place during the retreat: remembering our icons and dangerous memories; discern-ing who we are today and our potential for tomorrow; and deciding on a direction for a shared future. Being pragmatic people, a good many brothers had reservations about this process and the value of the retreat itself. The retreat began on Wednesday evening with over three hundred brothers processing into our prayer space for an opening prayer service and a motivational presen-tation celebrating five brothers identified as icons from our five provinces. During our days of retreat, we would recall icons from Scripture, our Lasallian heritage, and our brothers. Icons, as windows to the interior, help us get in touch with the deeper forces operative in our lives. An icon can help us transcend the immediacy of our pres-ent life situation. By touching the core of our being, icons stir up an interior movement that allows us to go beyond our immediate landscapes. At the opening prayer service we heard read: We gather tonight to remember, to celebrate, to grieve, and to dream. This is our Lasallian heritage. It is rich, indeed! It is composed of individuals, communities, and ministries that at one time listened to the whispers of a radical spirit, a spirit that opened to us new venues and invited us to launch our boats in uncharted waters so 66.1 2007. Scbieler ¯ An Experience of Jesus and His Brothers as to serve better the children of the poor and working class. We celebrate tonight our Lasallian icons. They are stories, people, events of the original foundational journey of our community as De La Salle Brothers that become like windows breaking open the deepest mean-ing, revealing a prophetic insight, full of memory and hope, about the present. They help us to get in touch with our dangerous memories., our wildest dreams. They connect us to our institute, to our church, and to the mystery of God's kingdom here on earth. Brothers, they do not exist to reassure us. Sometimes these icons will destabilize us and challenge our current views and understandings. If we let them, they may stir up in us the deepest movements and yearnings of the Spirit! Seeing men we have lived with or heard about and recalling how they lived as brothers and what they accom-plished stirred us, prompted reflections, and encouraged conversations about our fraternal life together and the mission for which we consecrated our lives. As the open-ing evening came to a close, brothers retired to their rooms in a "wait and see" frame of mind. Dangerous Memories Under the day's theme of "Remembering where we were and refounding our hope. for the future," we met on Holy Thursday morning as provinces to recall our respec-tive dangerous memories. The theologian Johannes B. Metz saw dangerous memories as: memories in which earlier experiences break through to the center point of our lives and reveal new and dangerous insights for the present. They illuminate for a few moments and with a harsh and steady light the questionable nature of things we have apparently come to terms with, and show up the banality of our supposed "realism." They break through the canon of the prevailing structures of plausibility and have certain subversive features. Such memories are like dangerous Review for Religious and incalculable visitations from the past. They are memories that we have to take into account, memories, as it were, with a future content.: One province, in the activities leading up to the retreat, highlighted as one of its most dangerous memories a 1920s decision that resulted in a quick move from primary to secondary education. In 1926 and 1927 the province withdrew from thirteen elementary schools to staff two new diocesan high schools. While reluctant at the time to leave elementary education, the province would realize from these two schools several hundred vocations during the next four decades. This decision is part of the prov-ince lore and often recalled at fraternal gatherings. On this Holy Thursday morning, however, it was about another dangerous memory that several brothers spoke with pas-sion. This dangerous memory was still very much in the present. It was from the late 1960s and early 1970s. Like many congregations and the church in general, the province was caught up in the euphoria of the Second Vatican Council, but was also beginning to witness the fallout: departures, the drop in vocations, and polariza-tion. Between the start of summer 1969 and the end of summer 1970, the province would lose nearly a hundred brothers, including the provincial and much of the prov-ince's leadership. In the coming decade nearly thirty men would leave to enter the priesthood. The novitiate that had served the province since 1880 closed in summer of 1969. At the same time the renewal and updating of our religious life, the principle of subsidiarity, and personal responsibility versus directives from the top were going forward. So was empowerment of young over those with seniority status. While this province would struggle with fundamental issues of religious life through much of the 1970s, by the end of the decade a new formation program was bringing 66.1 2007 Schieler ¯ An Experience of yesus and His Brothers from our pas that we wanted tocar or ard fewer but excellent candidates. Commitment to its tradi-tional educational ministries remained strong while being open to new and sometimes individual ministries. The mental health of the brothers would be honestly faced and addressed. After considerable neglect, personal and communal prayer returned. The morning session was both invigorating and inspir-ing. Table conversation at lunch was animated as other brothers were proposed as icons and further dangerous memories shared. Following lunch and prompted by a presentation on passing with Jesus from death to life and by a video on our roots, we reflected on the values from our past that we wanted to cel-ebrate and carry forward into the future. These included accomplishing our educational mission as a community that can adapt and innovate, the diversity of our educational delivery sys-tems, our formation as educators with a Christocentric spirituality, and our recent establishment of national for-mation programs to share our charism with our lay col-leagues. As Thursday afternoon gave way to evening and din-ner, the brothers seemed to accept that we were on a retreat, not at an assembly. Conversations were more hope-filled, and the feeling now being expressed was "Yes, it is good to be together." This was evidenced by the number of brothers coming.before the Blessed Sacrament in prayer and silence throughout the evening. Finding a seat in chapel for adoration on Holy Thursday had not been difficult for a long time! Review for Religious Three Hundred HistoriesmOne Voice, One Spirit While on Wednesday evening and Holy Thursday we celebrated and remembered those brothers who shaped us and our provinces, on Good Friday we would behold the men we are today. How are we different from those we had honored and recognized? What had we lost? What do we take to the cross? Whom do we take down from the cross? What do we bury? To stimulate our reflection we viewed the film Romero, suffering servant in our time, and listened to a presentation on the crucifixion of Jesus, the Suffering Servant for all time. These enriched our table conversations later, but something else in that afternoon proved transformative. The image of three hundred brothers one by one ven-erating the crucified Christ on Good Friday afternoon was a powerful one. We witnessed three hundred histories that have faithfully lived their initial "yes" given to God. There was much gray, but the talent and energy in that long gray line was palpable. One brother reflecting on the experience wrote: "I found that long line of brothers inspiring. Each of us brought our stories to that moment, and I knew many of the men and their talents, the ~ailures they and I faced, the challenges they and I met, the stu-dents they and I inspired, the communities we had lifted up, and our struggles with various demons. Some were my teachers; others were my mentors in community. There were international, national, and district leaders. Other brothers were and are colleagues and confreres. Yet all our various paths pointed us in the same right direction that afternoon. All of us bowed before the same cross, individually and collectively, confessing our belief in Jesus our Savior. What richer image could we have of our vow formula than that we brothers accomplish our educational mission not as individuals but 'together and by associa-tion' with one another?''3 66.1 2007 Scbieler ¯ An Experience of Jesus and His Brothers This kind of change stimulates resistance because it challenges peopl e's habits. Holy Saturday Holy Saturday morning began with a presentation that many brothers found realistic while others found challenging and some even disturbing or out of sync with the spirit of the retreat. That presentation revealed the harsh demographic realities that nearly sixty percent of the membership is over sixty-five years of age with only twelve of the 420 brothers in the three provinces and del-egation under the age of forty. It spoke of the hope lost after the heady days of the council. It spoke of halfhearted efforts at amalgamation in the 1990s and the first cou-ple of years in this new ~ century. It spoke of the ~' difficulties and chal- !enges of what Heifetz . and Linsky call "adap-tive change" versus "technical change"; change at the core of persons or organizations as opposed to the simple rear-ranging of things.4 This kind of change stimulates resis-tance because it challenges people's habits, beliefs, and cultures. The presentation offered elements of hope and a plan for the future, but for some it stood in contrast to the good feelings generated from the storytelling and shar-ing of experiences from our various provinces. Perhaps we were experiencing the stone being placed at the entrance to the tomb. There was a period of questioning, self-doubt, and waiting. What direction would the retreat now take? We had reached a critical moment, and it took all the facilitators' skills to maintain a retreat atmosphere and not slip into a workshop or assembly one. We pre-pared the brothers to opt for the direction they preferred. Review for Religious The answer would come in the afternoon, after the "three hundred stories" had processed in once more. Five possible directions for a shared future were iden-tified, including remaining as separate provinces or unit-ing in a totally new structure. The five possibilities were posted at the front of the hall, and each brother was given a colored dot to place next to his choice. Again three hun-dred men walked up quietly and indicated their choice. At the end, it was overwhelmingly agreed: to create one province with new structures for the vitality of commu-nities and ministries of the three present provinces and delegation. The key phrase was "new structures." In a letter he sent to the brothers at the retreat, our superior general wrote: Our times demand not only that we change current structures, as if by doing only this we could revitalize ourselves. It is not about simply creating larger prov-inces that are the same as those of the past. We have to reinvent what it is we understand by the term "prov-ince," and create new structures that will allow us to be rnore visible and more effective in the way we manage and accompany Lasallian association throughout the world,s The stone in front of the tomb was being removed along with self-doubt and waiting. We embraced the possible. It is always Holy Saturday whenever people push back the creeping boundaries of the world's fear, making room for irrepressible hope; where people live the long darkness of original sin while believing in the possibil-ity of the deeper light; where people discover the touch of an invincible spring on the bare branches of their winter lives.6 Easter Vigil The Easter Vigil was a most joyous occasion. All three hundred brothers had donned their new sport shirts with one of our familiar congregation logos. In his sermon the 66.1 2007 Scbieler ¯ An Experience of Jesus and His Brothers 72 celebrant for the vigil beautifully summarized the previous several days by recounting a conversation he had earlier in the day with a young man staying at the same resort. I walked by. "Hi," I said. "'Sup. You one of Jesus' brothers?" I knew what he meant because I live in the 'hood. "Sorry?" "You one of Jesus' brothers? I saw the sign: 'Jesus and His Brothers.'" "Yeah, yeah, you are too!" Never miss a catechetical moment. "So you pastors or something?" "No, mostly teachers-Christian Brothers." "That's nice," he said. "I've been watching

Issue 58.1 of the Review for Religious, January/February 1999. ; fo r relg io iu s, Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living jANUARY-FEBRUARY 1999 ¯ VOLUME 58 ¯ NUMBER 1 Review for Religious is a forum for shared reflection on the lived experience of all who find that the church's rich heritages of spirituality support their personal and apostolic Christian lives. The articles in the journal are meant to be inforntative, practical, bistorical,'or inspirational, written from a theological or spt~itual or sometimes canonical point of view. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis Universi~, by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ° Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: foppema@slu.edu Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP P.O. Box 29260; \,Vashington, D.C. 20017 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©1999 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. Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Jean Read James and Joan Felling Kathryn Richards FSP Joel Rippinger OSB Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla SJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC .Chrfisfian Heritages and Contemporary Lfiv~ng JANUARY-FEBRUARY 199~ * VOLUME 58 ¯ NUMBER 1 contents 6 28 perspective. Apostles and Martyrs: Consecrated Life at the Bishops' Synod for Asia John Mansford Prior SVD presents the challenge of the 1998 Synod for Asia to enter into a threefold dialogue--with religions, cultures, and the marginalized. Catholic Guides in Dialogue with Buddhist Practice Paul Bernadicou SJ reviews the progress of Catholic writers in their efforts to provide a fruitful exchange between Christianity and Buddhism. 35 42 traditions Lithuanian and American Sisters: A Lively Interactive Dance Barbara Valuckas SSND describes some of the similarities and differences in the issues facing women religious in the West and in Lithuania. Serpents and Doves: The Company of St. Ursula Ann White draws our attention to the pioneering Ursuline Marie Guyart (Blessed Marie of the Incarnation) living out the vision and spirit of the foundress, St. Angela Merici, to combine the secular and sacred, the worldly and the religious. spirituality 48 The Art of Discernment: The Aesthetic Dimension Xavier Plissart MAfr explains that a basic and essential quality of disce~:nment is that it should strive to be as common as possible in its insight and process, and as universal as possible in the aim toward action. Review for Religious 61 The Still Point: Contemplation Kathy Dunne RC shares her experience and her insights into the unitive way, a way not isolated in prayer, but intimately connected with the dance between the contemplative and apostolic life. 68 82 .aging Caring for Our Own: Competent, Personal Long-term Care in a Faith Perspective Imelda Maurer CDP pictures how life in long-term care looks for some communities of women religious and the witness that is given to the human values that our faith provides. What Is My Mission in Retirement? Francis Blouin FIC clarifies the call of service especially for those who no longer serve in active ministry. 86 report Scrupulosity: Age-old Problem, Holistic Response Paul Duckro, C. Alex Pollard, and Jason Williams describe a synergistic collaboration between behavioral science and religious faith for finding an effective response to the problem of scrupulosity. departments 4 Prisms 98 Canonical Counsel: Living the Evangelical Counsels 103 Book Reviews Janualy-l.¥brllaty 1999 Many of us are familiar with the late Henri Nouwen's Return of the Prodigal Son--a book in which Nouwen reflects on the Gospel story and Rembrandt's painting of the same title displayed in the Hermitage musuem in Saint Petersburg in Russia. Some years after writing the book, Nouwen died while he was on a journey to Russia to participate in a television fea-ture dealing with the painting and his book. Nouwen's fascination with Rembrandt's painting of the famous Lucan parable makes a special appeal to us all in the year 1999. As we continue to follow the direc-tions of Pope John Paul's apostolic letter "As the Third Millennium Draws Near," we know that the year 1999 is dedicated to seeing things "in the perspective of Christ: in the perspective Of the 'Father who is in heaven'" (§49; Mt 5: 45). Just as the previous two years were dedicated respectively to Jesus Christ and to the Holy Spirit, so this final year preparatory to the new millennium is focused particul.arly upon God--the One Jesus calls Abba-Father. A dynamic is uniquely associated with this third year of preparation. It is the journey motif. We are to pay special attention to the fact that we human beings are '.'on the journey to the house of the Father." The God we come to know on our journeying is not just a good God but a God of forgiving love, a compassionate God. Following an allusion made by the pope, w.e might iden-tify the year 1999 as the year of the parable of the prodi-gal. Like the prodigal, we all are on the road leading home. Like the prodigal, we may have a mix of feelings about the life choices we have made and the values we Review for Religqous. have lived. Like the prodigal, in the midst of evaluating our life we sometimes find ourselves needing to throw ourselves on God's mercy--and ready to do so. In one way or another, then, we tend to find ourselves on the road with the prodigal, similar in our rue-ful disquiet about past failings and in our modest plans for a fresh start. Most important, though, is our coming to the ever new and deepening understanding of the reality of God's relationship with us--the One who keeps watching for us whenever our approach, the One who hastens to embrace us into the family. Demanding as the actual journeying of our life may be, our attention should be fixed primarily on the journey of our heart. The heart needs to be quiet and hear the questions: Where are we now in our journey? Is life for us Christians lived truly as a pilgrimage--a journey with a direction? How have we come to know God in our adult years? Is God the one we experience as so compassionate to us that we feel the pull to address God with Jesus' intimacy-of-love word Abba? Most commonly, pilgrimage evokes a picturing of a group mov-ing onward together. So, too, in our pilgrimage we are not alone. Our Christian community in all its various forms--family, parish, sodality, religious congregation--makes real that it is a "we" jour-neying together to the Father. The call to a new evangelization summons us, already known in Pauline times as a people of "The Way," to be welcoming to a humanity searching for the way. Pilgrims are known to tell stories as in Chaucer's Canterbury Tales, and pilgrims are known to sing songs as the psalms so often describe. As we continue our journeying in 1999, we need to tell one another our own parables of a pilgrimage home. Together we sing songs of praise to the Father "who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing'I (Ep 1:3-4). The year 1999 can be a special pilgrimage for us all. David L. Fleming sJ Januao,-Februaty 1999 JOHN MANSFORD PRIOR Apostles and Martyrs: Consecrated Life at the Bishops' Synod for Asia Nowhere else in the world is religious life flourishing-- in both its traditional and more contemporary forms-- as it seems to be in Asia. Thus, unsurprisingly, of the 252 participants at the Synod for Asia (19 April to 14 May 1998), some 90 were members of religious orders or congregations, 36 percent of the total. Among these 90 were 63 of the 188 synodal fathers (including 10 superiors general) and 27 of the 58 auditors and experts (including 8 sisters, 5 priests, and two brothers). These numbers, of course, do not represent the pro-portions of consecrated life in Asia and are not intended to. Eight sisters among 244 men reflects neither the presence nor the role of sisters--let alone other women--in the mission of the Asian churches. It was, after all, a synod of bishops, not a, meeting of religious. The ninety religious were present because religious are active in Asia today at all levels of ecclesial life. But with over a third' of the participants belonging to religious orders and congregations, religious life in Asia was not far from the surface of the synodal discussions. John Mansford.Prior SVD has worked in Indonesia since 1973 and writes from Seminari St. Paulus Ledalero; Maumere 86152, Flores-NT:r; Indonesia. During the Synod for Asia, he was liaison officer for the English-speaking press. His article is being published also in Informationes SCRIS, the in-house publicatio~a of the Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societie~ of ApoStolic Life. Review for Religious The theme of the synod--"Jesus Christ the Savior and his mission of love and service in Asia 'that they may have life and have it abundantly'"--does not refer directly to consecrated life, but it is central to religious life. Religious are active agents in Jesus' mission of love and service, and so consecrated life was referred to in the context of mission. The evangelical theme of the synod was explained at leng.th in two presynodal documents, the lineamenta (guidelines) published in September 1996 and the instrumentum laboris (working docu-ment) published on the eve of the synod itself (February 1998). I wish to glance briefly at these two documents before looking at the synodal documents themselves. Presynodal Documents While all the lineamenta are of interest to religious as mis-sioners, there are just six explicit observations on consecrated life in this document. Half of these are in chapter 2, on the history of Christianity in Asia. Regarding mission in Asia before the 12th century, we read: "Most of these early missionaries and bishops were monks; others were merchants and ordinary Christians" (§9). The important point here is that Eastern-rite churches have been in Asia since Apostolic times and are not the result of Western colonial expansion since the days of da Gama and Columbus. These churches in the Middle East (from Palestine to Iran) and 'in southern India (Kerala), founded long ago by "monks, merchants, and ordinary Christians," are Asian and are accepted as such amid the dominant local populations, whether Muslim or Hindu. This was emphasized time and again by the patriarchs and bishops of these churches. Unfortunately, the story is. different for other churches in Asia. In the 15th and 16th centuries, missionary activity went hand in hand with the colonial expansion of Portugal and Spain. Even today, five hundred years later and half a century since most Asian countries achieve~l political independence, these Latin-rite churches are still looked upon as Western imports. Although some churches were initiated by laypeople (in Indonesia, for example) or even were founded by laypeople (in Korea, for exam-pie), many of these missi6ners were religious. Thus we read in § 10: "Between 1510 and 1640, Franciscans, Jesuits, Dominicans, Augustinians, Carmelites, and Theatines all established houses in Prior * Apostles and Martyrs Asia." Despite the colonial link, the lineamenta emphasize these orders' pioneering work of inculturation. Clearly, the guidelines are rereading history with the needs of contemporary mission in mind. The small, "half-hidden tradition" of dialogue in the past is about to become the great "major tradition" for dialogue in the future. "Many 'missionary-minded' religious congregations sprang up in Europe during the 19th and 20th centuries. Several of these congregations are still at work in Asia. During t.his same period a number of Asian religious congregations of men and women estab-lished themselves in Asia, particularly in India and the Philippines. During the 19th century, for the first time women ventured out into distant lands in Asia to bear witness to Christ and his gospel and to serve the poor . They also became a very essential part of mission in Asia, especially in the preparation of catechumens and the education of children" (§12). One of the signs of renewal since Vatican Council II is the way in which education, previously domesticating, is now. more and more following a liberating model. Such postconciliar renewal is taken up in the following section on "Lessons Learned from History." Among "Significant Contributions" after Vatican II are "con-tinental structures . for the religious in Asia, such as the Asian Meeting of Religious (AMOR), [which] bring the particular churches in Asia together and help coordinate their missionary and pastoral activities" (§14). Perhaps AMOR has achieved more than any other collegial body in opening up the leaders of religious orders and congregations to the wider social realities in which they live and work. This is surely the vital role that Asia-wide bodies are filling: awareness building and ongoing formation among religious leadership. There will be no new evangelization without a shift in consciousness (one of Longeran's "conversions"). Shifts in consciousness come about when we listen to each other and discover the links between our differing situations. Ond important sign that the local churches are now becoming mission-sending churches instead of being exclusivelj~ or mostly mission-receiving churches is the emergence of new Asian mis-sion societies. In the past "the agents of mission were mostly mem-bers of religious orders, congregations, and missionary institutes. Today the local churches of Asia have a number of Asian mis-sionary institutes" (§ 15). As we shall see, this was later taken up on the floor of the synod. Review for Religious Towards the end of the lineamenta ("Agents of Evangelization," §32), the term "consecrated life" is used for the first time. This is in the context of a mission theology of religious life. "It is a very heartening thing to note that many particular churches in Asia have already established mission institutes to send missioners to other countries, even though they themselves are in need of missioners in their own countries. Asian bishops have a particular responsibility to promote mission institutes and to be generous with their personnel for mission areas. Religious orders, congregations, and mission institutes have played a very remarkable role in the evangelization of Asia from the very beginning. Consecrated life is a very privileged means of evange-lization. Persons consecrated by religious vows can dedicate themselves fully to evan-gelization work because of their radical choice of the evangelical counsels, their total availability, their capacity for origi-nality in mission methods--as the history of mission shows, their spirit of generosity and their easy mobility." In this way the lin-eamenta sum up consecrated life in Asia: its historical contribution, distinctive witness, and recent developments. Responses from Asian episcopal conferences to the lineamenta were numerous, some of which have been widely published. Those of Japan, Taiwan, Indonesia, and India appeared in the East Asian Pastoral Review (no. 1, 1998). The instrumentnm laboris, or syn-odal working document, is thus a commentary by the preparatory committee upon the lineamenta, taking into account the views of the Asian bishops. Not surprisingly, the instrumentum is very dif-ferent in both tone and accentuation from the initial document. It is closer to Asia. Religious life gets five explicit mefftions, and these are of inter-est: First, in the historical section, it is regretted that the pio-neering work of dialogue with cultures and other Asian religions was discontinued so quicklyi "Even though the missionaries' efforts met with many successes, it is felt that a proper understanding of these elements in the work of evangelization would have led to a greater acceptance of the faith by the people of Asia . The church's rediscovered appreciation of other religions and cultures should find greater expression in her missidnary approach" (§14). There will be no new evangelization without a shift in consciousness. Janumy-Feb~wa~y 1999 Religious today are being called to recapture these creative insights from the past. However, there is a price to pay. In continuing Jesus' mission of love and service through interreligious and inter-cultural dialogue, consecrated life in the Latin rite will have to leave behind its Western heritage and become radically Asian. This latter point was brought up many times on the floor 6f the synod. While no section in the lineamenta was devoted to religious life, the whole of §16 of the instrumentum is. devoted to "Consecrated Witness." Mention is made of the "steady increase in the number of vocations during the past decades," both to "tra-ditional religious congregations and institutes which are Western in origin; in recent years a number of new local religious congre-gations have sprung up in Asia." "In many cases o . . service pro-vided by missioners has led to martyrdom." "Witness in Asia has ¯ . . come from a great many of the church's religious orders and congregations who have made a major contribution to the growth of the local churches in Asia during the last five hundred years of evangelization. Tens of thousands of religious sisters and brothers, by their love and unselfish service to those who suffer from poverty in its many forms, have contributed to nourishing the faith of many in the church in Asia. Some of these have given an invalu-able service to local churches by establishing houses of formation, especially seminaries. They have been able to reveal the compas-sionate, loving, and caring face of Jesus to the peoples of Asia. Religious brothers have given an outstanding service to the cause of general education, vocational training, technical education, and developmental works. Contemplative religious have also made a unique contribution to the Christian mission in Asia by their prayers and their witness of complete dedication to a life of union with God." Missioners are contemplatives in action--this is a favorite saying of John Paul II. The evaluation of Catholic mission history in Asia (920, "Leaven in Society") highlights the work of religious in educating the laity. Not aJfew outstanding national leaders in cultural, eco-nomic, and .political affairs, even in countries where Christians are a tiny minority, are alumni of Catholic schools. Towards the end of the instrumentum are two more refer-ences to consecrated life, neither of which' is found in the initial lineamenta. In 942, "The Word of God and Mission," we read: "Some responses ask for a greater attention to the Sacred Review for Religious Scriptures, the word of God, in all areas of church life, especially by bishops, priests, deacons, those in consecrated life, catechists, and lay missioners. Preachers, especially missioners, should draw from the Bible and lead their hearers to take up the word of God for personal study and inspiration . God's word has an inherent power to touch the hearts of all peoples, both Christians and believers of other faiths." This link between the centrality of the biblical apostolate in mission and the centrality of the word in the life witness of the missioner came up later on the synodal floor. Finally, in "The Service of Dialogue," we read: "The mission of the church takes place in interaction with others of which dia-logue is an important aspect. Some bishops in Asia have placed an emphasis upon what they term a 'dialogue of life and heart.' . ¯ . Cloistered sisters, who lead lives of prayer and love in open friendship with their neighbors of other faiths, have shown them-selves to be among the most effective practitioners of the dialogue of life." This is one of the few references to contemplative life in the presynodal documents. While just two participants in the synod were from contemplative orders, a central part of the synod was the link between contemplation and action. God-experience and authentic life-witness are crucial. Proclamation in Dialogue During the first seven days, 191 interventions were made by the synodal members and auditors. A quick, thematic analysis of these interventions follows. Twenty-three interventions were on °interfaith dialogue, 18 on the local, church as a communion of communities (a participative, collegial church). Sixteen interven-tions were on inculturation, 11 on the church's option to accom-pany the poor and margin.alized, and 10 on the challenge of economic globalization. Another 10 were on Asian spirituality and God-experience, 7 on youth, and another 7 on the church in China. Six focused on the ancient Apostolic churches of the Middle East, 5 on issues concerning women, 5 concerning the laity, 4 con-cerning schools, 4 concerning ecumenism, 4 concerning indigenous peoples, 4 concerning family life, and so on. VVhat picture emerges from this rough breakdown? Seventy-six percent of the intervention~s (146) dealt with four main topics: the Asian churches in diaiogue with other faith traditions (43 inter-ventions), the church becoming Asian by dialoguing with living Janttary-Februat.'y 1999 Prior ¯ Apostles and Martyrs r ¯ ] cultures (41 interventions), the churches learning to dialogue with the poor (33 interventions), and the Asian church as a church of the laity (29 interventions). Thus, for the bishops and observers, the threefold dialogue with other religions, with cultures, and with the marginalized looks to the context, approach, and con-tent of the New Evangelization. In this threefold dialogue Christ will become all in all, "that they have life and have it abundantly." Clearly, members of religious orders and congregations are involved in this threefold dialogue, one way or another. In responding to Jesus' mission through the threefold dialogue, con-secrated life itself is evange.lized. It must be noted that only three interventions took up conse-crated life as its sole subject (§§2"5, 81, and 99), while three supe-riors general included religious life as one of their topics (§§68, 133, and 134). Others touched upon consecrated life as part of their intervention. Ten superiors general spoke of various aspects of mission. Some other interventions are of direct relevance to religious, those on Asian spirituality, for instance, and on the strug-gle of women. I here pinpoint a few major issues culled from these interventions. Women in Church and Society Keeping in mind that the great majority of religious are women and that the majority of missioners in Asia are women also, the few interventions on women are of particular impor-tance. Sister Filomena Hirota MME (Japan), one of the eight sis-ter auditors pres.ent, spoke on women's growing awareness and on women's movements which demand that the fundamental equal-ity and dignity of all women and girls be respected in thought, attitudes, and practices. After referring to statements by the FABC (Federation of Asian Bishops' Conferences) over the years, she said: "The church in Asia has a predominantly feminine face. In many countries women constitute 70-80 percent of its member-ship. The presence of women in pastoral ministry, their service to the poor and marginated, their commitment to peace and jus-tice in ecumenical and interreligious relationships, and their sol-idarity actions in promoting the dignity and equality of all women, men, and children have been significant and important." She went. on to say: "A new way of being church in Asia calls for a church in solidarity with the cry of women in a prophetic Review for Religious way." The church is called to "become a credible sign of the dig-nity and freedom of women in society and in the world" (Fourth FABC Assembly). The church has to find a concrete way to respond to the Holy Father's words expressing regret and apology for wrongs and insensitivities toward women in the church: "May this regret be transformed, on the part of the whole church, into a renewed commitment to fidelity to the gospel vision" (Letter to Women, 29 June 1995). She made five proposals: (1) "Members of Mother Church are called to be agents of communion, to create wholesome and equal relationships of compassion and care among humankind and with nature." (2) "Theology from women's perspectives and experiences should be introduced in seminaries and mission formation courses." (3) "It is important, indeed necessary, for male members of Mother Church to discover and grow in 'feminine' insights and attitudes in imita-tion of Jesus (see FABC Assembly 1990) so that their service may be fully and genuinely human and Christian in a society where the logic of domination is destroying both human beings and nature." (4) "Future priests should be formed so as to accept women as equal disciples and companions in their evangelization work." (5) "As a concrete sign of recognition of the fundamental equality of all bap-tized persons (including their dignity and rights) and the church's commitment to uphold women as equal partners, it is urgently rec-ommended: (a) that there be a minimum of 30 percent participa-tion of women in all church organizations and councils; (b) that in the church all women, including religious sisters, be justly com-pensated for their work; (c) that women be given support and opportunities which will enable them to study theology and related subjects; (d) that in each diocese a committee be formed to address injustice, especially against women and children, and to take effec-tive appropriate action in coordination with other local, national, and international organizations; (e) that all language (which sub-consciously influences our conscious attitudes) of church-related writings reflect the equality of men and women. May Mary of the Magnificat accompany us in this jourfiey as we women commit ourselves to Jesus' mission of love and service in Asia!" Appropriate here is the intervention of Pastor Agustina Lumentut, of the Central Sulawesi Christian Church of Indonesia, The church in Asia has a predominantly feminine face. Januat3,-FebruaD, 1999 Prior ¯ Apostles and Martyrs one. of the ecumenical delegates from the Christian Conference of Asia. She noted: "In Asia many countries are afflicted by a mon-etary and economic crisis. Therefore poverty and suffering increase for men, but in particular for women who will be hit most by the rising prices of their basic needs. Often the husbands and the older children of Asian women have gone away to the big cities to find a job and never return. No 'syn-odos,' no 'walking-together' any-more for many Asian women and their families. But there is a 'syn-odos,' a 'walking-together' with women from the same reli-gion, but also from other religions, women who have similar expe-riences. As Asian women theologians have stated: 'These shared experiences can become one of the primary sources for theologi-cal reflection, for rereading the Scripture, for a new interpretation, a new perspective.' As long as Asian women find the courage to tell each other their stories and share their .experiences, they have hope. Women are walking together. But is the church walking with them?" David Fleming SM, superior general of the Marianists (inter-vention no. 68), reflected on the compelling power of feminine images of the holy in Asian religions. In Hindu spirituality female images usually stand for shakti, power, creative energy. In Bengali Hinduism great attention is paid to Durga, a feminine image of the holy that is portrayed, almost like the Woman of the Apocalypse (chap. 12) as conquering the forces of evil, crushing the serpent's or dragon's head. Such feminine images, far from inducing passivity and helpless resignation, point to great social dynamism. The many feminine figures in Asia have arisen in a context of theo-logical reflection and catechesis that-is totally different from ours and surely unacceptable to us as Christians on the level of doctrine. Nevertheless, they enshrine some religious imagery that we Christians naturally find realized in Mary. She is a holy woman of contemplative sensitivity, one who experienced God rather than analyzed God. She is full of compassion and sensitivity to the poor and suffering, in dynamic solidarity with them, sharing their strug-gles as a woman of the people in an oppressed nation. In herself she lives a harmony with God, with her fellow human beings, with nature, and with society. David Fleming ended by saying: "Much of this Asian sensitivity for what we might roughly call the 'feminine' aspects of the holy is in fact integrated into the tender and almost cbnnatural devo-tion to Mary that characterizes so many Asian Christians. I am Review for Religious not talking of an integration of doctrine or of any new theologi-cal assertions about Mary. But I believe that a culture that shows so great a sensitivity to the feminine side of the holy has a great deal to contribute to our Christian experience of Mary, not only in Asia but also in the rest of the world. It helps us see the dynamism and vitality of Mary in the work of salvation and her power to motivate us to a commitment in solidarity with the poor. In this way we can give a greater Asian content to the conviction often expressed by the Holy Father that Mary is the 'Star' enlight-ening and directing the progress of the new evangelization in our era." All this is of interest to religious, both women and men. What images of God have we internalized, which images are we proclaiming by our lifestyle and in our work? God-Experience Time and again, bishops spoke out on the centrality of authen-tic experience of the human and the divine. I take up just one example, the presentation of Bishop John Osta of Patna, India (intervention no. 37). It is, "Bishop John said, "not enough to repeat doctrinal or theoretical formulas; personal witness to a personal experience is called for." Bishop John called for a new contem-plative lifestyle for all in the church. In this "rebirthing" of the church, religious have a pioneering role: live the Christian mystew in an Asian way! Integrating prayer forms from other Asian reli-gions is not syncretism, he maintained, but a demand of our times. The bishop continued by quoting FABC (Hong Kong, 1977): "The decisive new phenomenon for Christianity in Asia will be the emergence of genuine Christian communities in Asia, Asian in their way of thinking, praying, living, communicating their own Christ-experience to others . We should beware of seeing our future mission in categories that belong to the past, when the West shaped the churches' history. If the Asian churches do not dis-cover their own identity, they have no future." David Fleming made an interesting contribution on some aspects of the "dialogue of religious experience." His nine years in Nepal and India informed his presentation. He said: "To speak to the heart of Asian people and enter into a genuine dialogue of religious experience, religious and bishops should give special attention to developing the Christian contemplative life in Asia, as well as to enriching the contemplative dim.ension within all insti- P~o__r_ ¯ ~ostles and Martyrs, tutes of consecrated life, in order to create inculturated forms of living the spirituality of each institute. This is an aspiration widely shared, but not always so well realized, by religious institutes pre-sent in Asia." He continued: "Interreligious dialogue on the level of reli-gious experience involves a giving and a receiving, so that much can be learned from the deep religiosity of people and from their religions. Such dialogue shows us concretely how the Spirit of God has been at work through the centuries in the religious expe-rience of others. We often find that interchanges with seekers of holiness in other religions open up new vistas for Christian life and especially refresh our'memory of elements in our Christian spir~ itual heritage that we have tended to forget and neglect." He gave some examples: "A genuinely inculturated celebra-tion of the Eucharist. Very often, after participating in liturgies that integrated elements from the great variety of Indian cultures-- Hindu, Muslim, animist--Indian Catholics told me how richly these inculturated liturgies moved them, touching something that had perhaps been buried and a bit regretted in their souls during their years of taking part in more Western-style liturgies." A sec-ond example: "The disciplines of yoga direct us to pay greater attention to an approach to the body that disposes us to prayer. Similar teaching exists in our Christian tradition, especially in the hesychasm of Eastern medieval Christianity. But I doubt if we will easily rediscover this neglected dimension of spiritual discipline without the help of interreligious dialogue." Another example: "Attention to the rich oriental teaching .on praying with a mantra has sparked a fruitful renewal of c'ontemplative prayer among Christians in our time, often called 'centering prayer.' A similar approach was inculcated in ancient Christian monasticism, from the Egyptian desert through John Cassian, and in the oriental Christian tradition of the Jesus Prayer. The prayer of the rosary is, in its own way, within the same tradition. But today many Christians, East and West, are rediscovering this contemplative form of prayer through interreligious dialogue." Cardinal Eduardo Martfnez Somalo, prefect of the Congregationfor Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life (CICLSAL) gave the 81st intervention. The cardinal's eight points emphasized the centrality of t~tal dedication by the consecrated person. The key to mission witness is who she or he is, not what she or he does. Cardinal Martfnez Somalo linked the Revlew for Religious contemplative and mystical dimension of consecrated life to an ascetical lifestyle. This comment is particularly pertinent as Asia suffers a major monetary crisis on top of long-standing systemic poverty and injustice. In simplicity and prayerful silence, religious undergo day by day conversion to the gospel. After the primacy of religious experience, the cardinal emphasized the need for a solid theological formation, particularly necessary as we enter into dia-logue with Asian cultures and other Asian religions. He ended on a note of joy and hope at the many vocations to religious life in Asia. These key issues echoed and strengthened the contributions from Asia itself. Peter-Hans Kolvenbach, superior general of the Jesuits, con-trastedthose who work for results with those who live out of love (intervention no. 97). The high-quality institutions run by reli-gious orders do not automatically proclaim the love of God. Our apostolates proclaim love when they are run by people "through whom God's love shines." Similarly with the work of dialogue: we dialogue in love without calculation or ulterior motives. In our apostolates we do not proclaim self but Christ crucified. I was reminded of the saying of John of the Cross: "Where there is no love, put love, and you will reap love." A short comment, one of many during the synod, about the centrality of God-experience, came from Bishop Gratian Mundadan (intervention no. 124) of Bijnor of the Syro-Malabar rite, India: "A Hindu sadhu once told Abhishiktanandaswamy: If you want to touch the heart of Indians, every one of you must become a guru. A guru is one who has deep God-experience. Such a guru does not quote, does not instruct, does not formulate, does not dogmatize. The guru shares personal experience of God, It is not just a question of presenting Jesus Christ as the guru; every Christian needs to become a guru--deep in the experience of God. . Spirit-filled and Spirit-led aposdes began their mission with sur-prisingly great success . "Unfortunately the scenario changed. The communities of the Spirit became institutionalized. When possessions, power, and authority increased, the need to rely on the power of the Spirit decreased. The Holy Spirit remained the forgotten person of the Holy Trinity. The humble, poor servant Christ, who came to serve and not to be served, was forced to assume the status of a power-ful king instead of continuing to be the King of the heart. The church began to rely on competency and human efficiency, doc- Jamtao, oPYbruaO, 1999 Prior ¯ Apostles and Martyrs trinal as well as juridical. If the church's power and authority comes only from competency and human efficiency, then we are facing a crisis in our mission. For such a competency based on knowledge, ideas, administrative skills, and laws will search for its legitimacy in the rational, in the human. The power of the church is reli-gious, spiritual, power from heaven. When the leaders of the church are devoid of such a spiritual power, they'will take shelter in juridical power. "There is an urgent need to change this image. The leadership of the church has to change the style of functioning, to become more spiritual, free from institutional authoritarianism and fully at the service of the gospel and the world. Such a leadership will be able to animate people to God-experience and help them translate this experience into fraternal love. This is to be the original con-tribution of the gospel to Asia, where other religions concentrate on God-experience alone without any effort to serve the brethren. The leadership of the church will have to discern and activate the vari-ous charisms of the whole Christian community: build up commu-nities of love and fellowship as did the Apostles. Such a leadership will seek to strengthen the capacity of the people of God to become true faith communities as against the dichotomy that exists today between faith and life among Christians: make these communities powerful evangelizing communities, empower the faithful and enable them to face the challenges of the present day and of the future with interior power, power from above, and not with worldly wisdom and efficiency. ".Following the way of Christ, the church in Asia has to assume the way of kenosis, of self-emptying, of the cross, of loving and self-giving service. We have to develop a kenosis ecclesiology. We have to shed attitudes of power, domination, influence. Such a church will appeal to the Asian mind . Let the call of the synod to the church of Asia be a return to the sources, to the spirit and style of the early church, where the Spirit of God reigned." Asian Mission Societies Edward Malone (Hong Kong) is the long-serving assistant secretary general of the Federation of Asian Bishops' Conferences (FABC). The bishops of south, southeast, and east Asia have belonged to FABC since 1970; they are now to be joined by the churches of central Asia. Father Edward devoted his intervention Review for Religious (no. 99) to Asian mission societies: "Although the number of [Asian] Christians remains small in comparison with Asia's bur-geoning masses (2-3 percent of all Asian peoples), this 'little flock' (Lk 12:32) seeks to share its riches and discovery of Christ with neighboring peoples . They are aware that 85 percent of all the world's non-Christians live in Asia. "Responses to the call of mission and evangelization within Asia have taken a variety of forms. Most international institutes of women and men have a home in Asia. New groups and new forms of religious life, secular institutes, and lay orga-nizations have emerged to respond to the call of world mission. Yet I wish to highlight a unique ~ and essential form of mission response. This charism is that of the missionary society of apos-tolic life. In recent decades, six such societies of men have emerged in Asia: the Missionary Society of the Philippines, the Missionary Society of Saint Thomas the Apostle (India), the Catholic Foreign Mission Society of Korea, the Missionary Society of Thailand, the Lorenzo Ruiz Mission Society (Philippines), and the Heralds of Good News (India) . These societies of men who are pledged to lifelong commitment to foreign mission bring a unique--and essential-~- contribution to the church's missionary activity. "These mission societies of apostolic life contribute a partic-ular focus to mission. Their contribution is ad genres, ad exteros, and ad vitam. They direct their efforts to evangelization ad genres, to those who have not yet heard the liberating and salvific Good News of Jesus Christ; ad exteros, to peoples outside their own coun-try, cultural milieu, and language group; and ad vitam, through a lifelong commitment to this unique form of mission witness. There are countless local churches in Asia that owe the emergence of their faith and communities to the dedicated labors of such mis~ sion societies of apostolic life founded in other parts of the world. The 'time of the heirs' has come for all local churches of Asia to respond by establishing such mission societies . A local church is not intended to live alone; it is 'not a community in isolation from other communities of the church one and catholic. Rather it seeks communion with all of them' (FABC 1). This is a unique con-tribution that mission societies of apostolic life can bring to the local churches throughout Asia. Such societies can become 'bridges 85 percent of all the world's non-Christians live in Asia. Januaty-Febt'tlat3, 1999 Prior * Apostles and Martyrs of communion' by which the sister local churches of Asia can appreciate and exchange their unique gifts. In this way the gospel is proclaimed, communion is strengthened, the 'dream of catholic-ity' emerges and is concretized . Though not limited to Asia alone, their growth will result in Asians evangelizing Asians, the emergence of authentically missionary local churches, the strength-ening of bonds of communion among the churches of Asia . " Edward Malone then pointed out developments that foster or hinder mission ad genres. First, in an ecclesiology of communion, we need bridges of exchange and communion. Missioners ad genres foster communion among sisters churches. Second, churches that do not experience this exchange (sending/receiving) can become closed ih upon themselves. They could become vulnerable to local ideologies and a closed nati'onalism. Third, if ad genres mission is not promoted, there will remai~ many unreached peoples through-out Asia. Fourth, pastoral care even keenly felt must not be allowed to derail the local-church ad gentes mission effort (this has often happened: working abroad with nationals from the same church of origin does not fulfill the ad genres vocation). Father Malone con-cluded by mentioning two current temptations: (1) the "tempta-tion of success" (to settle down with the visible results of evangelization, hesitating to turn over the parishes, schools, and institutions to the local church and diocese and move out to new frontiers) and (2) the "temptation of pastoral care" (seeking to answer all the pastoral needs of a diocese and so losing the will to reaffirm the original charism, "to g9 and make disciples"). Ours must always be the motto of the apostle Paul: "Christus me misit non baptizare, sed evangelizare" (1 Co 1:17). Edward Malone's informative and provocative contribution drew two responses from superiors general of mission societies that originated in the West. Father Franco Cagnasso, PIME superior general (intervention no. 13 3), welcomed the Asian missioners, that is, those who remain authentically Asian. Their presence is positive for the whole church. They are less institutionalized and live close to the poor. Many have a valuable interiorized approach to the mystery of Christ. People from the other continents have redis-covered their Christian faith through reaching out to Asian spiri-tuality. Father Franco ~lso welcomed the fact that Asian churches were open to receiving cross-cultural missioners from outside Asia. The more the Asian churches become self-sufficient pastorally, the more they can move out to dialogue with others. Review for Religious This contribution was followed by that of Father Raymond Rossignol, superior general of the Missions of Paris (intervention no. 134). He emphasized that each and every church should be open to send and receive cross-cultural missioners. No church should be encapsulated. History has left the Asian churches with a problem: they are perceived by majority communities as being foreign (Western). Also, in the past, Western missioners have tended to dominate local church personnel. One reaction to this is for each church to look after itself without outside "interference." However, we need to find suitable ways to ensure that cross-cultural mis-sioners can be present in all churches--not just in those who are not yet "self-sufficient." Raymond Rossignol concluded by saying: "No church is so poor that it has nothing to offer others; no church is rich enough that it cannot receive from others." Formation of Religious One of the burdens of history is that Western-style churches were planted in Asia during the colonial era. In the words of the president of the Catholic Bishops' Conference of Sri Lanka, Bishop Oswald Thomas Colman Gomis (intervention no. 141), "the church has remained foreign in its public image and expression, in liturgy, art, architecture, mannerisms, and presentation of doc-trine, and above all in patterns of life, especially those of her reli-gious . Most of my brothers and sisters here, I believe, would agree with me that this image remains very much a block to evan-gelization today. This synod [should] find some formula to erase this scar inherited at birth by many churches in the countries of Asia." One place to start is formation. Bishop Arturo M. Bastes (intervention no. 25) gave a tour de force, finishing his presentation a split second before the micro-phone was cut off. A former SVD provincial, Bishop Arturo of Romblon, Philippines, spoke on formation for religious in the contemporary Asian context. His exposition focused on four important shifts taking place in the Asian churches: a shift from a Eurocentered church to an authentically Asian church, a shift in our understanding of history, a shift in the model of church, a shift in our understanding of spirituality. Each shift has its impact upon formation communities. ¯ According to Bishop Arturo, the church's mission in Asia has been approached from the perspective of a Eurocentered church, Prior ¯ Apostles andMartyrs deeply conditioned by the European colonialism of the times. Formation of religious was or still is monocultural, Western or European. While religious vocations are rapidly decreasing in Europe and the rest of the Western Hemisphere, there is an ever increasing number of religious vocations in Asia. A contextual-ized formation is suited to the mentality of Asians. There should be real insertion in social reality. Asian formators are developing practical methodologies in contrast to Western academic models. Academic study needs to be accompanied by practical method-ologies in the light of Asian realities. The second shift is in our understanding of history. The great world religions Hinduism and Buddhism, whose cradle is Asia, antedate Christianity by thousands of years. Christianity was born in Asia, but has been alienated from Asia by becoming Eurocentered. The Catholic Bishops' Conference of the Philippines proposed that the synod "explore exhaustively in an open and humble way the revelatory nature" of the religions of Asia and their impact on the church's proclamation of Jesus. There is much that the church can learn from other Asian religions regarding the values of God's reign. Persons beginning religious-life formation need a great feeling of respect for other religious tra-ditions which offer "salvation" even before the coming of Christ. Christian religious should not feel "superior" to people of other traditions. Asian formandi and formandae need to remain Asian even when they join international congregations. The third shift is in church models. When the church embed-ded itself in Europe, a mindset arose that considered Europe Christian and the rest of the world pagan. Unfortunately, they seem to have identified Christianity with whatever is European. Many third-world churches are striving to shift away from a tri-umphalistic model to a church identified with the social condi-tions of the people. Without a sense of the poor, there can be no genuine following of Jesus in Asia. Hence, candidates for the reli-gious life in Asia should be trained to have both an affective and effective commitment to the poor. All religious congregations today emphasize "preferential~ option for the poor." The question is: Do we really mean it? The "passing-over to the poor" is admit-tedly one of the most difficult transitions for a religious congre-gation. The fourth shift highlighted by Bishop Nrmro ~ls in our under-standing of spirituality. Traditionally we have associated spirituality Review for Religious with an institutional way of living. We need to shift our under-standing of spirituality from institutional to incarnational. More basic to each congregational charism is being rooted in the incar-nation of Christ. There is a dynamic and essential relationship between culture and spirituality in a common humanity. The three characteristics of an incarnational spirituality are self-transcen-dence, search for meaning, and the gift of self. These are at the heart of every spirituality, whether Christian or non-Christian. Globalization of the free market is attacking Asia; the prospects of the third millennium are frightening. Religious women and men of Asia should join forces to fight, con-sumerism by living a spiritual life that is accessible to their fellow Asians, whatever their creed. Bishop Arturo concluded by suggesting that religious candidates should seriously study and reflect upon the spirituality of other Asian religions besides the teachings of the Judeo-Christian Scriptures. The Spirit is present in Hinduism, Buddhism, Taoism, Islam, and even primal religion. The vocation of Asian religious today is to save Asia, by the wisdom and depth of Asian spirituality with which Asians feel at home, from the onslaught of materialism coming from global market forces. Asian spirituality is not opposed to the teachings of Christ, for it is a true manifestation of God's Spirit working in all peoples. Janet Wang, president of the Conference of Major Religious Superiors of Women of Malaysia-Singapore-Brunei, spoke of dia-logue within the church: only a church in dialogue can dialogue with cultures and other religions. She spoke of mission in the light of the church as communion. The church in Asia needs to grow in dialogue of life and heart so as to be a visible and efficacious sign of communion in the multiracial and multireligious societies in which we live. While we are challenged to intensify interreligious dialogue and dialogue with culture, we cannot ignore the need to improve our capacity to dialogue within the church at the grass-roots level--among priests who work in the same parish, as well as among priests, religious, and laypeople. One of the best forms of The great world religions Hinduism and Buddhism, whose cradle is Asia, antedate Christianity by thousands of years. Prior * Apostles and Martyrs For formation to become Asian, future l rofessors need to do their special studies in Asia rather than in Rome or elsewhere in the West. evangelization in secularized societies like ours is the witness of love and reconciliation, unity in diversity, authority as service. The Spirit is calling us to move away from the image of a cler-ical institution to the building of a participatory church where priests, religious, and laypeople have a common vision of church as communion. The church in Asia will become more alive and efficacious to the extent that the laity and religious are actively involved with their parish priests in pastoral plan-ning and decision making. Sister Janet said, "Our religious communities need to be recognized as Christ-centered basic ecclesial communities within the local church." Changes in attitude, however, do not come automatically. Persons need to be formed in a gradual, experiential way. Sister Janet concluded: "May I strongly recommend, also on behalf of the Conference of Religious Major Superiors of Malaysia, Singapore, and Brunei, (1) that seminarians be formed to a better understanding of consecrated life in the context of the ecclesiology of communion, (2) that pri'ests, religious, and laypeo-pie be formed together towards a new way of being church. With hearts open to the action of the Spirit, we need to listen to the word of God, to pray and reflect together, to search together, and in an atmosphere of dialogue to carry out pastoral planning, pastoral care, and mission outreach together as church, the family of God in Asia." Francis Adeodatus Micallef, apostolic vicar of Kuwait (inter-vention no. 43), also spoke of the spiritual formation of religious. "Spiritual formation of candidates should not suffer as a conse-quence of formation programs . Lifestyle should reflect the deep spiritual formation which these centers are imparting." The key word here is authenticity. Bishop Peter Chun Hon-Ting of Kuching, Malaysia (inter-vention no. 62), spoke on seminary formation; his comments are germane not only to clerical religious. Bishop Peter Chun empha-sized the absolute need for a sound knowledge of the religiocul-tural situation of one's country and a critical knowledge of the ReviewforReligious economic and political conditions that affect people. Many bish-ops emphasized the link between contemplation and involvement, spirituality and politics. Bishop Peter also stressed the dignity and equality of lay and clerical, the Bible as the soul of all theology, and the integration of Asian philosophies and spiritualities into the curriculum. For formation to become Asian, future professors need to do their special studies in Asia rather than in Rome or elsewhere in the West. Not far from the question of formation is that of spiritual direction. Vicente Cajilig OP, secretary to the Office of Education and Student Chaplaincy FABC (Philippines), gave the one inter-vention on spiritual direction. He said: "Spirituality in Asia, as seen by formators, is a form of journey and accompaniment. This journey follows a certain pathway that leads to interiority. The model of all models is Christ, with whom the formandi and for-mandae are configured. The directee arrives eventually at the stature of Christ." He concluded that, above all, a "spiritual pro-gramme that prepares spiritual directors themselves is important. While formation in theology gives candidates a firm foundation in the faith, the handling of the spiritual task requires added know-how on the journey of the Spirit." Schools A continent-wide synod is not the place to look at individual apostolates in any meaningful detail. Where the churches in Asia are small, even insignificant minorities, elite schools have been an important apostolate. As independent governments and majority communities have developed their own, even better, school systems (see intervention no. 125 by Bishop Leo Laba Ladjar of Jayapura, Indonesia), this traditional apostolate is being increasingly ques-tioned. The preferential love for the poor also raises fundamental questions. Alwis Sunanda FMS (Sri Lanka) put it like this: "An educational system, especially at the tertiary level, committed to the service of the values of Jesus and right relationships, orients its curriculum and research towards greater understanding of the social forces at work in exploitative societies such as exist in parts of Asia. It shines light on exploitative and liberative forces in those societies and tries to motivate students and teachers to choose a set of values different from the existing capitalistic, consumerist, wasteful, gender- and ethnically biased values. Its library and social January-February 1999 Prior ¯ Apostles and Martyrs communications would be a help to the poor and the needy, those who are marginalized, and exploited women and men." Brother Alwis, however, went on to suggest that "the social system in the context of Asia tends to ensure that Christian schools serve the interests of more affluent groups in society. How valid, in practice, is the argument that we can influence the future shape of our soci-ety by training the children of the elite in our schools? Are we not, instead, put in a position of maintaining the existing social order, to the extent that our own values and lifestyle are adjusted to continue a system of education that bolsters, if not aggravates, the inequalities? Often a glaring incongruence exists between the gospel we teach and the work we do, between our expressed mes-sage and the lives we live. We ourselves, though, might not notice this by reason of our great dedication to the cause we serve." Brother Alwis concludes, "Today we may have a better chance of being faithful to the call of the gospel by working in programs that foster nonformal education, adult education, values educa-tion, and education through peoples' movements rather than through traditional educational systems." This is just one thoughtful contribution among the many that were made about various apostolates. What is clear is that, fifty years after most Asian countries became independent, religious orders are having to look again at many of their traditional apos-tolates, successful as they superficially look. The Propositions The synod is over and the bishops are back at their posts. Some time in 1999 an apostolic exhortation will be published, based upon the 59 propositions drawn up during the final days of the synod. Two of these propositions, numbers 27 and 28, deal respectively with "consecrated life" and "mission societies of apos-tolic life and other mission societies." I did not receive a copy of the propositions, and the synodal members handed theirs back to the secretariat. From what I heard in the synodal hall, and the notes I made, I can make the following brief cominents. In Proposition 27, religious are looked upon as a reminder of the universal call to holiness who inspire a self-giving love towards everyone, especially the least of their brothers and sisters. The synod calls upon religious to undertake a renewal and revitaliza-tion of their commitment to proclaim the saving message of Jesus Review fo," Religious Christ. Formation should be Christ-centered and contextualized, faithful to the group's charisms, with emphasis upon life witness. Spirituality and lifestyle should be sensitive to the religious her-itage of the people they live with and serve. Proposition 28 acknowledges the continuing contribution made by mission institutes of apostolic life. The recent founding of mission institutes of apostolic life in Asia itself is an expression of the missionary dimension of the churches of Asia. The synod encourages the further establishment of mission societies charac-terized by their commitment to mission ad genres, ad exteros, and ad vitam. Encouraging Words Each and every woman and man dedicated to the consecrated life in Asia has received renewed encouragement from the 1998 synod to .continue the daily witness of risking oneself for Christ's sake. We have been challenged, some thirty-six years after the opening of the Second Vatican Council, to take up the language of the threefold dialogue with religions, cultures, and the marginal-ized and to flesh it out in lives of radical witness to the incarnate Word and graceful Spirit. This threefold dialogue is one integral movement of evangelization, the evangelization of the whole of life in all its myriad dimensions. As apostles of the crucified and risen Lord, we promote life in multicultural, multifaith Asia. As martyrs to the truth-giving Spirit, we endeavor to live ascetically with the marginalized. There is no reason for holding back: we have the dream, we know the strategies. We have the documents, we have the official encouragement~ The only real barrier is the narrowness of our minds and the smallness of our hearts. "Have courage, I have conquered the world!" On 16:33). "For God is greater than our hearts" (1 Jn 3:20). Janualy-Februa~y 1999 PAUL BERNADICOU Catholic Guides in Dialogue with Buddhist Practice Ion the latter 1960s Thomas Merton, prophetic here as in many ther areas with fresh religious insight, declared that, "far from being suspicious of the Oriental mystical traditions, Catholic contemplatives since the Second Vatican Council should be in a position to appreciate the wealth of experience that has accumu-lated in those traditions." His 1967 book Mystics and Zen Masters included an earlier essay expressing admiration for the 16th-cen-turyJesuit missionary effort in China, seeing that effort as a pro-logue to contemporary religious understanding. Merton was joined by a bevy of other Catholic scholars eager now to enter into dialogue rather than to proselytize in their mis-sionary outreach. In the words of the council's Declaration on Non-Christian Religions, Catholics were now asking themselves how these Asian and other ways try to pierce "that ultimate and unutterable mystery which engulfs our being, and whence we take our rise, and whither our journey leads us." The council docu-ment not only gave permission to respect the teachings of these other ways, but also invited Catholic scholars to "acknowledge, preserve, and promote the spiritual and moral goods found among them, as well as the values in their society and culture" (§§1, 2). Just before his tragic death in Bangkok at an East/West monas-tic conference, Merton wrote about his deeply moving sight of the Buddha sculptures at Polonnaruwa (Asian Journal, New Paul Bernadicou SJ chairs the University of San Francisco's theology department and is tertian instructor for the California province of the Society of Jesus. His address is 2130 Fulton Street; San Francisco, California 94117. Review for Religious Directions, 1993, pp. 233-236): "I mean, I know and have seen what I. was obscurely looking for. I do not know what else remains, but I have now seen and have pierced through the surface and got beyond the shadow and the disguise." He wrote beautifully about these huge, silent figures "questioning nothing, knowing every-thing" with their great yet serene smiles. Another Catholic monastic voice from that period was Aelred Graham's, who in Conversations: Christian and Buddhist Encounters in Japan (Harcourt, Brace, 1968, p. xiv) recounts how he sought to pass from the area of academic study to that of firsthand experi-ence of Buddhism. In his sixtieth year, after long experience as a Benedictine, he had the opportunity to speak with some for whom the Buddha was a role model no less than Jesus was for him. He describes the value of such religious encounter as "not at the peripheral level of Christian ecclesiology, which still preoccupies so many Catholic theologians, but at the basically existential level of who we are and what human life is all about." Jesuit Guides The Jesuit missionary H.M. Enomiya Lassalle, already in Japan before World War II, eventually inculturated his Christian Zen meditational practice into a Zen-style Jesuit retreat center in the countryside at a remove from bustling Tokyo. He published his personal findings regarding the helpfulness of Zen for an enhance-ment of Christian meditation. In Zen Meditation for Christians (German original, 1968; Open Court Publishers, 1974, pp. 151- ¯ 152), he illustrates this conviction with the parable of the prodi-gal son. In the typical way of Christian meditation at the time, you would reflectively think about the youth's family circum-stances, then the effrontery of his demand for his inheritance, then his degradation after wasteful spending, and finally his remorse and return to his father's house. A deeper form of medi-tation would not simply use~ the prodigal son as a symbol, but identify with him as an image of oneself. The person meditating would thus become the prodigal son. It is myself who reveled in our father's house only to estrange myself and now hanker to return in repentance and humility. "When we perform medita-tion in this manner and begin anew each time we practice, our heart is then purified and transformed directly and immediately through meditation--rather than indirectly through intellectual Janua~y-Februa~Ty 1999 Bernadicou ¯ Catholic Guides in Dialogue In Zen the method of purification involves working on koans, but in Christianity the emphasis is on meditation and the importance of Scripture. considerations of the will." This type of meditation is similar to Zen, wherein the Zen practitioner becomes one with a koan (that is, a Zen paradox designed to break through discursive con-sciousness to intuitive insight). ~ Heinrich Dumoulin, a Jesuit colleague of Lassalle at Sophia University in Tokyo, edited in the 1970s a series titled Religious Encounter: East and West which was "intended to promote an understanding of the living unity, diversity, and meeting-ground of reli-gious phenomena, Asian and Occidental." Dumoulin's own first contribution to the series, Christianity Meets Buddhism (Open Court, 1974, p. 198), emphasized that interreli-gious dialogue can contribute uniquely toward opening up a new horizon. Both Christianity and Buddhism involve a search for ulti-mate reality, and a dialogue between the two is "perhaps one of mankind's greatest hopes." A Jesuit of Japanese origin also at Sophia University, Joseph Kadowaki, whose youthful background had been Zen Buddhism and who was later baptized a Christian, came to recognize similarities between Zen monastic training and his own Jesuit novitiate training. In Zen the method of purification involves working on koans, but in Christianity the emphasis is on meditation and the imlSortance of Scripture. After he began to practice Zen, Kadowaki found that he could read the Bible in a new light. His book Zen and the Bible (Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1977) describes the method used in solving a Zen koan and shows how to appreciate the many para-doxical or obscure koan-like passages in the Bible. William Johnston, the fourth member of this quartet of Jesuit scholars of Zen at Sophia University, recently published his mag-num opus, Mystical Theology (HarperCollins, 1995, reprinted by Orbis, 1998). He has for more than twenty-five years been in the vanguard of the Christian and Zen Buddhist dialogue. He pub-lished Christian Zen: A Way of Meditation in 1971 (Harper and Row; 2nd edition, 1980); it provides explicit guidelines for a way of Christian meditation that incorporates Zen insight. Wordless Review for Religiot,s meditation, a modified lotus position, rhythmical breathing, and the use of koan are explored as Zen practices which can heighten Christian meditation. This interest in meditation led to his scientific investigation into its effects: Silent Music: The Science of Meditation (1974; reprinted, Fordham University Press, 1997). Johnston surveys what scientific research has uncovered about altered states of con-sciousness, brainwaves, and biofeedback. He investigates both Eastern and Western meditation by which one enters deeper lev-els of consciousness. The discovery of such meditation's "passive energy" and of other physiological and psychological benefits show its power to heal and comfort the distressed. And Johnston points out how the "nonattachment" and "knowledge of empa-thy" required in meditation can help people find genuine friend-ships and intimacy in their relationships. Thus he has added insights from modern science into the dialogue between Eastern and Western religious traditions. His Mystical Theology (1995) updates this message for many contemporary laypeople practicing meditation and finding them-selves drawn into mystical states of consciousness. John of the Cross wrote such a theology for the 16th century, and Johnston attempts it for our own century through his ongoing dialogue with modern science and with Buddhism. "Traditional mystical theology was written for monks and nuns . This is the age of the laity. Now married people who live a busy life in factory or classroom or office or laboratory aspire to a life of meditation and mysticism" (p. I0). They look for spiritual guidance as they grap-ple with problems of sexuality, social justice, world peace, and protection of the environment. Trappist Guides Also at the forefront of contemporary Catholic encounter with Asian practice are the adept Trappist advocates of centering prayer Basil Pennington and Thomas Keating, who have taken up where fellow Trappist Thomas Merton left off. In his 1977 Daily We Touch Him (Doubleday Image, 1979) and 1980 Centering Prayer (Doubleday Image, 1982), Pennington explored how to adapt the principles of Transcendental Meditation (TM) and Zen to Christian meditation. Daily V~e Touch Him is a simple but helpful guide to finding God's presence in one's own daily experience: "God is pre- January-February 1999 Bernadicou * Catholic Guides in Dialogue sent to us from the very first instant that he calls us into being-- and thenceforth forever he touches us at every point and level of our being. He is present to us. But are we present to him?" (pp. 14- 15). With Centering Prayer the focus is on returning to the roots of early Christian prayer, especially in the Eastern church and the patristic traditions. Centering prayer combines the best features of this Eastern Christian practice in a blend of East and West that inspires personal Christian prayer today. Thomas Keating likewise explores the Eastern Christian roots of his contemplative heritage in Open Mind, Open Heart (Continuum, 1994). The book moves beyond discursive meditation and acts of devotion to the intuiti'~e level of contemplation. Keating surveys the history of contemplative prayer in the Christian tradition, and follows with step-by-step direction in the method of centering prayer. He manifests how such an approach opens one's mind and heart to the contemplative dimension of the gospel. His recent Intimacy with God (Crossroad, 1996) builds on his earlier volumes by summarizing material from talks he has given in more recent years to people ranging from advanced prac-titioners of centering prayer to persons just starting out. He con-tinues to provide a Christian alternative to the appeal of Asian practices. His conviction is that our journey into intimacy with God leads us "powerfully outward, toward the bonding that we call the Communion of Saints: the capacity to relate to one another with the unconditional love with which Christ relates to us" (p. 160)~ Keating's prayer instruction parallels the apophatic style of much Buddhist meditation. Christian Theology and Buddhism An outstanding Catholic interlocutor with the Buddhist tra-dition on a more speculative and theological level is the Jesuit Aloysius Pieris, who was the first non-Buddhist to receive the doc-torate in Buddhist studies in his native Sri Lanka. His Love Meets Wisdom: A Christian Experience of Buddhism (Orbis, 1988) consists of a series of essays which explore the social as well as the spiritual side of Buddhism, its political and its religious visions, and issues important to the ongoing Christian-Buddhist dialogue. Pieris thinks that Christians can learn from Buddhism, integrating their own prophetic teaching .of love with the Buddhist mystical appre-ciation of wisdom. If heart-to-heart dialogue is genuinely pur- Review for Religious sued, agapeic Christianity and gnostic Buddhism will be mutually complemented and enriched in an integration of compassionate wisdom that could transform the plight of the oppressed poor and of our threatened environment. Pieris's more recent Fire and VVater: Basic Issues in Asian Buddhism and Christianity (Orbis, 1996) further expands on these liberation themes. Current Contributions Such informed exchange between Catholic and Buddhist monastics continues to proliferate in current publications. Three particularly impressed me when I recently surveyed the literature. 1. The Ground We Share: Everyday Practice, Buddhist and Christian (Shambala, 1996) is a conversation between Zen roshi Robert Aitken and Benedictine monk David Steindl-Rast, edited by Nelson Foster. Their dialogue begins with everyday practice rather than with philosophical and theological concepts. The result of their intense and lively conversations was to uncover the com-mon ground of meditational experience that gives hope for fruitful exchanges between Christianity and Buddhism into the future. 2. In The Silent Dialogue: Zen Letters to a Trappist Abbot (Continuum, 1996), David G. Hackett corresponds with sev-eral Trappist monks of St. Joseph's Abbey in Spencer, Massachusetts, dur-ing the 1970s, particularly Abbot Thomas Keating. Mter Hackett's conversion to Catholicism, he set out on a two-year stay in Japan, where he experimented with how Zen practice could deepen his Christian prayer and spirituality. Abbot Keating proved himself a knowledgeable and astute guide in his comprehension and inte-gration of Eastern ways to Christian prayer, as we might have sus-pected from his own writings. 3. The Gethsernani Encounter: A Dialogue on the Spiritual Life by Buddhist and Christian Monastics (Continuum, 1997) captures the voices of some twenty-five Buddhist and twenty-five Christian monks and nuns in a discussion of their contemplative traditions Christians can learn from Buddhism, integrating their own prophetic teaching of love with the Buddhist mystical appreciation of wisdom. Januaty-Febtwa~y 1999 Bernadicou ¯ Catholic Guides in Dialogue at an historic meeting hosted by the Abbey of Gethsemani in Kentucky. The Dalai Lama, who first suggested the conference, also recommended that it be held at Gethsemani in memory of Thomas Merton, whom he had met just before Merton's untimely death while attending a similar Buddhist and Christian monastic exchange at Bangkok. Though scholars in the field of spirituality were present, the focus of the convocation was more expressly on the everyday practice of meditation and prayer in the two tradi-tions. What steps help to progress in meditative enlightenment? What does each tradition have to contribute to our profound human yearning for an encounter with ultimate reality? What can we say and how must we respond to the compassionate wisdom with which this encounter enlightens the seeker? Prescience and Continuing Hope Just before his tragic demise in 1968, Thomas Merton stated in the Temple of Understanding meeting in Calcutta: "I think we have reached a stage of [long-overdue] religious maturity at which it may be possible for someone to remain perfectly faithful to a Christian. commitment and yet to learn in depth from, say, a Buddhist or Hindu discipline and experience." Few realized at the time how prescient this provocative comment would sound nearly thirty years later at the 1996 Gethsemani gathering. Review for Religious BARBARA VALUCKAS Lithuanian and American Sisters: A Lively Inter°active Dance Lithuania, the geographical and cultural gateway to east-ern and central Europe, was the first Soviet republic to declare independence from the Soviet Union just as the last decade of this century began. Almost immediately, American sisters of Lithuanian birth or descent, and American sisters from other ethnic backgrounds as well, went to Lithuania to knit bonds of friendship with women who had been cut off from the, world of women religious during five decades of military occupation and brutal repression of the Catholic Church. Going in response to requests from the Lithuanian congregations,. they were sponsored by the Office to Aid Eastern and Central Europe, of the National Conference of Catholic Bishops (NCCB), by the Leadership Conference of Women Religious (LCWR), by the Hilton Fund for Sisters; and by many other organizations including their own congregations. The sisters gave canonical consultation on the adap-tation of constitutions, assisted in the formation of the Lithuanian Conference of Mfijor Superiors, gave pro-grams of theological updating and ongoing formation, and conducted retreats and days of recollection for sis-ters who could barely remember what these were. In Barbara Valuckas SSND wrote "Lithuania: A Return to My Ancestral Home" for our May-June 1995 issue. Her address is Pilgrim Ministries, Inc.; 9 Academy Hill; Watertown, Connecticut 06795. Januao,-l~¥btvtary 1999 Valuckas ¯ Lithuanian and American Sisters the early days of this lively dance, the Lithuanian sisters encour-aged their American counterparts to take the lead although their United States partners learned innumerable steps from them. By 1997 the dance was well along, but the partners were begin-ning to shift places. In January 1997, while I was in Lithuania conducting a program evaluation, the president of the Conference of Major Superiors described plans for the first Congress of Lithuanian Sisters, to be held the following August. When I asked her about the main purpose of the congress, she' replied in two simple but profound words, "We exist!" To be able to affirm this after experiencing decades of efforts to exterminate religion and religious persons from Lithuania was a touching testimony to the deep faith and high courage of the Lithuanian sisters. Some months later, those of us who had worked with the sis-ters in Lithuania received invitations to attend the congress as guests. The invitations were addressed to "you, who have walked with us from the beginning." Our joyful response to this invitation brought us to Kaunas, the old capital of Lithuania, to be enthusi-astic onlookers as the Lithuanian sisters celebrated their own dance of survival and hope for the future. The theme of the congress was "the past, the present, and the future." The president of the Conference of Major Superiors, who had herself experienced years of surveillance by the KGB, recounted the sisters' sufferings during the years of occupation. One of her most startling revelations, however, was this: At the beginning of the occupation, there were seven congregations in Lithuania; at the end of the five decades of attempted annihilation, there were twenty-four! Some of this multiplication was due to the success-ful efforts of KGB infiltrators to fragment the existing congrega-tions, but much of it was due to the clandestine formation of new congregations. God provided for the future of the church through the courage of women who received their entire formation in secret. The several hundred sisters who attended the congress included older sisters who had entered established congregations before the occupation, sisters who had entered existing or new congregations secretly during the occupation, and sisters who had entered the various congregations since independence. These three groupings have had very different experiences of religious life, and yet they face together the challenge of bringing religious life in Lithuania into the future. Review for Religions This will mean facing and moving through the problems of the present. The speakers at the congress were very honest in naming these problems. They are not very different from the ones facing women religious in the West, although the historical context and hence the resolutions may be somewhat different. Some of the main issues identified by speakers at the congress were public wit-ness, community life, and just compensation. Public Witness As in the West, the sisters in Lithuania are grappling with the question of what it means to give public witness. At this point, much of this issue is being discussed in terms of the religious habit. Almost all of the sisters attending the congress wore habits even though they had not ordinarily done so. That is, as an American sis-ter of Lithuanian origin pointed out to us, most of the congregations had never worn habits because they had been formed during the occupation, when habits were forbidden. When Pope John Paul II visited Lithuania in 1993, however, the sisters were asked to come to their meeting with him in the cathedral wearing habits. So the sisters created habits on the spot and appeared before the Holy Father wearing them. They wore them again for the congress. The bishops who were present at the congress and some of the sister speakers expressed the wish that the sisters wear their religious dress at all times. It is worth noting that, unlike the sisters in the West, the women religious in occupied Lithuania were forced to give up their habits and their ministries overnight. Their change to sec-ular dress had not come about from reflection on the Vatican II documents and on the relationship of religious life to culture. By forcing the religious to put their habits away, the occupiers made the church virtually invisible overnight. Now the church hopes to regain its visibility, and wearing the habit or not is a central question. It will have to be resolved from within the lived experi-ence of the Lithuanian sisters, although they have been very inter- As in the West, the sisters in Lithuania are grappling with the question of what it means to give public witness. January-February 1999 Valuckas ¯ Lithuanian and American Sisters ested in learning from the sisters of the West how the habit issue wasrdealt with and resolved. Community Life o Along with their habits, the various congregations lost their buildings, their communal spaces, overnight. Many religious women were forced out onto the streets and lived there or in fields or barns until they were able to find work and lodging. All through the years of occupation, they lived in little flats with one Or two other sisters or with relatives and friends, wherever they could find a place. Now, although somd of the congregations have begun to get their property back from the government, many are still without a common space. Some of the sisters are afraid to form communities again because they have forgotten how to live com-munity life. Others are eager to try it, but feel the need for help in the skills of building community together. The middle group of sisters--those whose formation was clan-destine-- is numerically the smallest; this leaves the elderly sisters and the newest members trying to negotiate a common life :across the barriers of age and extremely different life experiences, Some of the speakers at the congress referred to these cross-genera-tional tensions and pleaded for patience and more effort to deal with them in the process of building community. A special difficulty faces the sisters who have not received' their property back or who never had common property to begin with. The elderly sisters in these congregations live in tiny flats scattered around the cities and villages. They are often dependent on the younger members for both financial support and physi-cal care. It is not uncommon for young sisters to finish a day's work only to begin visiting the individual elderly sisters, bathing them, shopping for them, and providing for other needs of theirs. These younger members are also expected to contribute their services to the growing ministries of a church that has emerged from the underground and seeks to make its voice heard ~in the culture once again. While these conditions are not directly com-parable to conditions in the West, assuring that younger mem-bers have time and space for their own formation and are not unduly burdened with maintenance issues is a Western concern as well. This situation is related to another issue narried by the Lithuanian sisters. ~ Review for Religious. Just Compensation Now that the church is free to operate in the open, the sisters are expected to give time and energy to parish ministries, catech-esis, and so forth. This is usually in addition to their full-time work in the secular economy, which provides the sustenance they and the elderly members in their care need. Speakers at the congress acknowledged the heavy burden placed on the sisters because, to date, their work for the church has gone largely uncompensated. Some speakers indicated that questions have been raised among church officials about why sisters need salaries or pensions. All of this would be very familiar to sisters from the West. Common Questions, Other Questions, Other Steps Given the similarity of the issues facing women religious in both East and West in spite of their cultural and historical differ-ences, one would assume that the dance that began at the begin-ning of this decade could go on for a long time, growing more unified as it moved into: the future. This, however, may not be the case because other dancers have moved into the space in an effort to change the dance into another kind of movement. Some of this change of step has come into Lithuania in the form of newspapers and magazines that portray women religious and reli-gious life in the West as quite degenerate. Some has come in the form of living persons. In informal conversations at the congress, some of the Lithuanian sisters spoke of making a retreat during the summer at which the retreat master gave considerable time to frightening descriptions of religious life in the West. The Lithuanian sisters heard, for example, that sisters in the West had no prayer life and that they had boyfriends. These insinuations had the effect of sowing doubt and suspicion even in sisters who had had very pos-itive experiences of the American sisters who had worked with them directly. Some of the bishops and sister speakers at the congress were quick to warn the Lithuanian sisters about negative influences from the West, especially about feminism and about failure to adhere to the teachings of the church. That some of these warnings came from the very leaders who had invited the American sisters to attend the congress may be a sign of the confusion and ambivalence toward the West that is Janua~y-Febtvlary 1999 Valuckas ¯ Lithuanian and American Sisters In every multicultural dance, there are tensions and always the danger of stepping on one another's cherished values. becoming more prevalent, not only in Lithuania, but in other countries of eastern and central Europe as well. One sister speaker exhorted the Lithuanian sisters to cling to the values of their own religious heritage and not to "turn jewels into stones." Although the majority of the grass-roots Lithuanian sisters begged'us to return to continue sharing experiences with them, seeds of doubt and uncertainty had been sown in their hearts by their own lead-ership. Since the years of occupation and Soviet-style education conditioned most Lithuanians not to trust anyone, these seeds may be falling on soil that is still receptive to doubt and mistrust. An example of this occurred during and after the congress. Speakers represent-ing both the bishops' confer-ence and the superiors' conference stressed the serious need for Lithuanian sisters to be trained in the skills of spir-itual guidance and spiritual formation of others. In fact, the sisters who had attended our workshops in earlier years had, in their evaluations, requested training in these skills. Yet our offer to pro-vide this very kind of assistance with highly trained sisters from the United States was met sometimes with polite silence and some-times with suspicious questions. In such circumstances, it is only natural to wonder about the future direction of the dance. In every multicultural dance, there are tensions and always the danger of stepping on one another's cherished values. It is clear that the Lithuanian sisters need to find their own way, a way that is true to who they are. They need to be able to say "We exist!" not just about their survival through a difficult past, but also about the present and the future. Part of that existence, however, is going to be in an increasingly interde-pendent world. If the "We exist!" is for the future, it may mean enlarging the phrase to "We exist together!" The fact that the Lithuanian con-gregations were able to move from relying on their own congre-gations to creating an intercongregational formation committee is a sign that, given time and trust, they have the inner resources to Review for Religious move to a larger "we." The initiation of this intercongregational committee had, in fact, been inspired by the intercongregational nature of the teams of American sisters who had come to work with them. The Lithuanian sisters quickly saw that a larger "we" was not only possible but very rich in its possibilities for a happy sharing of many various gifts. We sisters from the West, on the other hand, need to keep remembering that our "we" is not the only "we" in the world. We need to be willing to look at the fears and suspicions about us. To the extent that they are justified, we need to allow ourselves to be called to conversion of heart and life. To the extent that they are not, we need to live with integrity and truth and to search patiently and mutually for new dance steps. Perhaps it is in our conversion of heart together that the Spirit will lead us all in a new dance of interdependence. Dispossessed Who believing would not hope? the child asked herself, dismantling in one stroke a holy triad. But stay, time-taught. It always does. Faith came easy. She was born believing unseen worlds. ¯ And lo~? Without it, there'd be chaos. As for hope? That limpid bird fled, sickened with the weight of errant expectation-- until finally the woman lay down and cried and cried and cried and cried-- while faith and love held hands and waited. Maryanne Casey Hannan .Tanaa~y-Febtvtao, 1999 ANN WHITE Serpents and Doves:, The Company of St. Ursula I n Quebec City, high above the St. Lawrence River, some eligious women live behind a cedar fence in a convent, sup-posedly set apart from the world. Yet the world of New France, as it existed nearly four hundred years ago, comes to them every single day in the persons of innumerable Amerindians. Who could possibly tell where these women's religious life leaves off and worldly life begins? We divide life into the sacred and the secular, and have done so since the 16th century, when Reformers who thought and prayed under dull northern skies became 'disengaged from the ideas of Renaissance painters and explorers and princes of Europe's sunlit south. Ever since, we have distinguished the worldly--rev-elers and artists and livers of free lifestyles--from religious peo-ple who go to church, pray, do good works. This division blurs the truth about people in both categories, sacrecl and secular. Consider the Company of St. Ursula, a boldly daring 16th-century Roman Catholic women's community. In the Ursulines' lives, religion and worldly adventure mixed inseparably. But Ursulines do not appear in secular books that tell adventure sto-ries. Ursulines show up in books about religion, written in sober words that mask the daring quality of their thoughts and acts. The Ursulines first caught my attention in Quebec City, where their convent has stood in the Rue Donnacona since the 17th century. As I gazed at the convent's faqade, I wondered why Ann White has a Ph.D. in history and teaches at the Edmund Burke School in Washington. Her address is 5130 Connecticut Avenue, N.W., apt. 203; Washington, D.C. 20008. Review for Religious any woman would give up cultivated, comfortable French life for the frigid wilderness of Quebec. My guidebook said the nuns came to found a girls' school. Everyone knows the name of Samuel de Champlain, the explorer who established the first French settle-ment at Quebec City, but how many know the name of the woman who started the first girls' school in the Nev~ World? She was Marie Guyart, member of the Order of St. Ursula, who arrived in Canada from Tours, France, in 1639. Her name fails to appear in books about explorers' and pioneers' adventures because those are "secular" stories. Yet Marie Guyart was a pioneer. Starting a girls' school anywhere in the 17th century was a pioneering act, and starting a school in the New World for girls of warring Amerindian tribes required a large dollop of pioneering bravery. Not only Marie Guyart's physical bravery impressed me, but also her idea of adventuring in unknown spaces. She had never traveled outside the Touraine region of France, yet as she sat in her convent she pictured herself in what she called the "vastitudes" of New France. "My body was in our monastery, but my spirit was tied to that of Jesus and could not be enclosed," she said. What did she know about Canadian vastitudes? Practically noth-ing. She had never heard the word "Canada" until four years before she departed for its frosty landscape. But being enclosed within four walls of a convent in Tours did not prevent her from imagining herself founding "a -house for Jesus and Mary" in an unknown land across a vast ocean. Marie Guyart acquired her expansive, daring cast of mind from her Ursuline company, who inherited it from their founder, Angela Merici. As much a child of the Italian Renaissance as Christopher Columbus, Angela Merici founded the Ursulines just forty-three years after Columbus's first voyage. Columbus, says one of his biographers, combined Christian faith with an impulse toward expansion. We ignore the faith, concentrate on the expan-sion, and place him in our secular category. Angela Merici pos-sessed the same Renaissance combination of faith and expansiveness as Columbus, but we ignore her expansiveness, con-centrate on her faith, and pop her into our religious pigeonhole. Angela Merici did not found the Ursulines until she was in her sixties. A farmer's daughter from northern Italy, she spent years working with a group of lay Christians to relieve misery brought to Brescia, a city near her birthplace, by the French inva-sion of Italy. She helped to organize orphanages and refuges for January-February 1999 White ¯ Serpents and Doves prostitutes, and she worked in a hospital for incurables, the only hospital that would accept Brescia's increasing numbers of syphil-itics. By the time Angela Merici traveled to the Holy Land around age fifty, her skills at helping the sick and the poor were well known--so well known that, when she stopped in Venice on her way home from Palestine, the city fathers asked her to remain there and organize charitfible works in their city. She said no. Furthermore, she left Venice immediately, so that they could not ask the archbishop to command her to stay. Soon afterwards she went to Rome, where once, again there came a request to borrow her skills. This time the pope himself, Clement vii, who asked her to remain and organize charitable works in his city. Surely this was an offer that Angela Merici could not refuse. Any "religious" woman would say yes to the pope, would she not? Angela Merici said no. Her Renaissance mind fit no pigeon-hole. She went back to Brescia to formulate a vision as expansive in its own way as Columbus's vision. Her company of women, named after a 3rd-century patron of young scholars, would be the first Christian company dedicated to instructing young girls. They would also tend the sick. These female teacher-work(rs would live in the world. No medieval convent walls would constrain them; they would freely walk the streets of north Italian cities from Milan to Venice. This Ursuline plan ignored religious/secular categorizing. Though Angela Merici never met her contemporary Martin Luther, her mind grasped the same idea that his mind grasped, a very old Christian idea, that the church's lay people--worldly, sec~ ular people--hear God's call as clearly as the clergy, the church's religious people. Angela Merici created an institution that blended the religious and the worldly. A young woman joining the Company of St. Ursula would pledge herself to virginity, but she would not live in a convent and she would not wear a habit. She would live at home with her family as she taught girls and tended the sick. Before Angela Merici's time, young women faced a stark, secular-versus-sacred choice: they could marry or they could enter a convent. Angela Merici's Ursuline plan gave them another option: pursuing useful work in the world while maintaining a religious identity. Habits of religious pigeonholing make us see Angela Merici, with her piety and good works, as blandly "religious," while we ignore her extraordinary worldly shrewdness. Not only did she Review f!~r Religious have enough sense of her own purpose to spurn a pope's offer, not only did she single-handedly offer devout European young women a new vocational opportunity, but she also obtained a papal decree permitting members of her company to hold a dowry from their families just as securely as if they were marrying or entering a convent. Moreover, her Testament for the Ursulines' four-woman board of directors shows she understood that her young women would face changing circumstances in the future: "If, according to times and needs, new rules should be made, or any change introduced, do it prudently and with good advice." It was with such worldly sagacity that Angela Merici deployed her Christian faith in 16th-century Italy. She shows us what Jesus meant when he told his disciples they needed to be wise as serpents and innocent as doves. Angela Merici's "religious" accom-plishment is incomprehensible without an understanding of her "secular" insight. ~ As her Ursulines spread throughout northern Italy and into France over the next half century, people with a pigeonholing men-tality-- churchmen, parents of Ursulines, and Ursulines them-selves-- changed the company's organization into something more recognizably religious. When Marie Guyart became an Ursuline in 1631, less than a hundred years after the first Ursulines signed their names in a book in Brescia, she entered a convent and, she donned a habit. The Company of St. Ursula, contrary to Angela Merici's vision, by Marie Guyart's time had become a religious order like other religious orders. Yet even in a convent Marie Guyart shared Angela Merici's expansive Renaissance spirit as she thought about the danger of dying from hunger and cold or at the hands of Canadian savages. These considerations, she said, made "no change at all in the dis-position of my spirit." "Secular" explorers like Champlain were plainly not the only people in 17th-century France who dreamed great, daring dreams. In New France (whose soil she kissed upon her arrival), Marie Guyart continued to live according to the rule of enclosure. She Angela Merici's Ursuline plan gave another option: pursuing useful work in the world while maintaining a religious identity. Januaty-Febt'uaty 1999 lq/'Isite ¯ Serpents and Doves This mixing of sacred and secular in the Canadian convent yard was part of Marie Guyart's theology. and her fellow Ursulines lived in convent buildings set within a large yard on the promontory overlooking the St. Lawrence River. They stayed within the yard's cedar fence, obeying their religious rule about not going out into the "world." But this enclosure was very different from the Tours convent for Marie Guyart: In New France the woodland world came to her: Algonquins, Montagnais, and Hurons; Abenakis, Nipissings, and Attikamegues; Iroquois girls sent by their mothers to learn the elements of the Christian faith. Twenty to fifty young girls lived in a boarding school that the Ursulines established within their convent walls. Amerindian men also visited the convent, for a meal or for instruction or simply to find out what went on there. Marie Guyart wrote, "I see generous and brave captains on their knees at my feet, begging me to have them pray to God before they eat." Moreover, this mixing of sacred and sec-ular in the Canadian convent yard was part of Marie Guyart's theology. She not only wel-comed inhabitants of Canada's woodland world to her convent, but also saw her savage Christian converts as every bit as religious as those labeled religious, the Ursulines and Jesuits in New France. "A savage confesses just as well as a reli-gious," she said. The Jesuits emphasized how hard it was for Amerindian Christians to behave the way they thought Christians should behave; Marie Guyart saw in them the full capacity for Christianity. The converts' devotion, she said, reminded her of the Christians of the early church. So what do these moments of Ursuline history--the lives of Angela Mericiand Marie Guyart--show us? That enclosure in a convent is bad? That the Ursulines-were more progressive than ,other Catholic groups because at first they spurned convent life? By no means. Ursuline history shows us Christian life without religious/secular categories: Angela Merici taking advantage of Renaissance Italy's expansive spirit to create an effective vehicle .for faith; Marie Guyart joining Christ among the Amerindians while living in a convent. Jesus did not say, be a serpent or a dove, choose between the secular and the sacred. He said, achieve worldly wisdom and reli- Review for Religious gious innocence, both at the same time. The famous figures who lived five hundred years ago, at the birth of the modern age, do not fit our narrow classification scheme of religious versus secular. Emperor Charles v was as much a man of faith as he was an effi-cient 16th-century ruler. Martin Luther was as much poet as priest--so much the poet that, in the judgment of one Reformation historian, if he had lived in another age he would have produced an epic rather than a new church. Michelangelo's art fused his awe of human beauty with his awe of the greatness of God. Nonetheless, we are in the habit of relentlessly classifying these people--the "religious" writer, the "secular" politician, the "sec-ular" artist--missing the breadth of their persons and the com-plexity of their accomplishments. Not so rigidly fixed in our minds as these famous figures, Angela Merici and Marie Guyart will fly right out of their religious pigeonhole if we let them. The two Ursulines were wise enough to take advantage of Renaissance Europe's expansive spirit, faith-ful enough to take big risks for Christ. Their lives overmatch our narrow categories of secular and sacred. Each was worldly and religious, both serpent and dove at the very same time. "But you, who do you say that I am?" (Matthew 16:15) Not in wisdoms Echoed from borrowed minds, Nor in quick phrases Caught and snatched and etched On today's tongues, Not even in the warm whispers Patterned on a mother's speech, A teacher's truth, A prophet's cry. Who do you say that I am When only you are left to form the words? When only I am left to listen? Suzanne Mayer IHM JanuaL'F-FebruaO, 1999 XAVIER PLISSART The Art of Discernment: The Aesthetic Dimension In this paper I discuss what I call the aesthetic dimen-sion of the art of discernment. I want to show that dis-cernment is an attempt to enter into the original divine creative dynamism for the whole of creation. This attempt is itself a creative activity aimed at realizing creation's original harmony. Since the whole of creation shares the same source and is directed towards the same goal, discernment should ideally be a striving towards communality. Consequently, a basic and essential qual-ity of discernment is that it should strive to be as com-mon as possible in its insight and process, and as universal as possible in its aim toward action. Theological Foundation Creation The initial insight for spiritual discernment is that God is active in our world, that creation is dynamic. The original goodness that God imparted to creation is more a life than a state: divine life continues to be breathed into the whole of creation. Essentially, discernment is a matter of seeing more accurately where and how this Xavier Plissart M_Mr has done formation work and taught in various African countries. He is currently attached to the Centre de Recherche et de Documentation Africaine. His address is: Bukavu, R~p. D~m. du Congo; B.P. 333, Cyangugu; Rwanda (Africa). Review for Religious divine "inspiration" is operative. The effort to see this depends upon our having the faith conviction that God's creativity in our regard is a genuine invitation to participate in divine life, an invi-tation that recognizes the full validity of creation's "otherness." The faith insight above applies to the totality of creation. Everything created proclaims in some way the fullness of divine life. But the proclamation acquires a special significance when we turn to. humans beings, for it depends upon their receiving an invitation to proclaim God's life and their conscious responding to it. Created in the image of God (imago Dei), we in turn become creative through our free response. We have the imagination (in Hebrew, yetzer) that makes it possible for us to integrate our actions in the flow of divine creativity, or not. Consequently, it is important for us to discern and decide how we shall orient our life and direct our actions. Context and History Divine dynamism has been at work in creation from the begin-ning, and human consciousness, responding in various ways, has shaped our world until the present day. We must, therefore, be fully conscious of the past. Discernment always implies looking back (if we use visual imagery) or listening (if we use acoustic imagery). God's conversation with the world and with humankind results in what we live and experience today. At the most personal level, St. Ignatius Loyola advises retreatants of the Spiritual Exercises to examine regularly the content and flow of their spir-itual life and life of prayer. Many religious persons and commu-nities today have gained great benefit from what is called "life review" to see God at work in their own history. It is also common practice now to try to "read" the "signs of the times" to see the underlying current. Believers find God at work, but unbelievers alike may discover the dynamism of creative energy with which they want to connect. Believing that God has been and is active in the world, we see, too, that we have the creative potential to go with or against this divine activity. In the Spiritual Exercises Ignatius describes in detail how one can become aware of inner movements that are aligned with the divine plan or that militate against it. This takes place in a context of faith and in an atmosphere of prayer. His analysis of consolations and desolations has served as a guide for many. Recently, however, spiritual writers have felt the need to widen the Plissart ¯ The Art of Discernment field of application. When we become more keenly aware of all the areas in which the Spirit of God is at work, it becomes evident that we must try to widen our horizon if we want to obtain a more accu-rate idea of God's action, a wiser discernment. Consolations and Desolations Revisited Ignatius himself implicitly recognizes the need for an inter-personal attentiveness to the Spirit when he advises that discern-ment should take place with the guidance of a spiritual director. Today we would include here the validity and even necessity of discussing the matter with one's spouse (if one is married) or a uniquely close "soul friend." An uneasiness in the friend or spouse might be a sign of desolation, and both persons would do well to become aware of it in the effort to find the will of God. Ignatius speaks of taking into account the position of the church. If with Vatican ~I we see the church as the people of God, our attentiveness to God's presence becomes broader and much more varied. Tensions in a community could well be interpreted as "desolation," or gratuitous excitement as false "consolation." We could and should make use of the well-developed techniques of group dynamics and see how a discerning insight might help us to perceive more clearly whether the movements animating a par-ticular group are from God. The vision we speak of here comes from faith; it can be of advantage only to individuals and groups that genuinely want to follow the Lord. Similarly, in discernment we do well to explore critically the meaning of divisions, resentments, estrangements, and insensi-tivity within ecclesial structures and institutions to see how these "motions" speak to us of God's creative or challenging activity in our world. Can we say that controversies on, say, contraception or feminism have nothing.to tell us about the divine activity in our world and in the hearts and minds of God's own people? I believe that an unwillingness to see the significance of such "movements" would represent a dire lack of a discerning spirit. Jon Sobrino, Enrique Dussel, J.B. Libanio, and others have shown clearly how, as we find ourselves confronted with a theol-ogy of domination, we must take into account the sociopolitical reality in order to make a valid discernment. The option for the poor which theologians of liberation advocate is not just another theological position. It is the result of a careful reading of the core message of Jesus in its relationship with the social reality. Review for Religions As the Quakers tell us, the "light of God" is also present and active beyond the confines of the circle of Christian believers. Indeed, this was also recognized in the documents of Vatican II. So we will have to .learn to discern how God speaks through the political debates of our present age, through intercultural struggles, through the economic and ecological issues of our world, and through people's search for a cosmic spirituality. Would we not say that people's uneasi-ness when faced with news ¯ items depicting poverty can be a sign of "desolation" calling for conversion and a change ¯ of heart? Would we not say that people's fear of an atomic disaster can~ be understood as a sign of "desolation" in a world which gives priority to war over peace? Would we not say that the renewed interest and practice of meditation of all kinds is a sign of "consolation" in a rediscovery of the importance of the inner world? The first, step in this reflection has brought us to the conclu-sion that, if we truly believe that God's Spirit. is indeed active in the world and if our aim is to integrate our decisions and actions as perfectly as possibly into this creative dynamism, then we will have to widen considerably the scope of our attentiveness to the divine presence. Our discerning of God's ~vill seems ~to bring us much further than it used to, well beyond the realm of personal spiritual life. No more can we think of attaining holiness through a private imitation of Christ (see Castillo). What we have examined is the first aspect of discernment, the "listening" element. It corresponds to what is called in Ignatian spirituality the "discernment of spirits" and also, in the Quaker tradition, to the simple prayer meeting. The regular practice of such discernment helps people to be more aware of God's pres-ence in their life. But it should also help friends or groups to a vision of where God is leading them communally. It can give us an insight into God's guidance for the church, for society, and indeed for the whole world. Acquiring such a common insight will be of great advantage in tackling the second aspect of discernment which we examine below. Tensions in a community could well be interpreted as "desolation," or gratuitous excitement as false "consolation." January-FebtvtaD, 1999 Plissart ¯ The Art of Discernment Anthropological Foundation: How Do We Decide? The Point of Entry Insight into the divine activity is not just an academic exercise. We have already indicated above that it has a very clear purpose. We do not "listen" to the voice of God simply to admire its har-monic quality. We want to add our voice to the symphony. Peters clarifies the distinction between discernment and elec-tion, but goes too far when he says that "the method [of election] is a way of finding the will of God, and has nothing to do with dis-cerning movements" (p. 30). Our insight into God's creative activ-ity inevitably challenges us to a response. Thus we seek not only to hear God's voice, but to discern God's will. This becomes a direct call. The general inspiration which we have discerned ini-tially takes shape gradually and becomes a specific invitation. This is where we move from a "discernment of spirits" to a process of election: we are faced with alternatiyes, and we have to make a choice. What is happening is that we become aware of a krisis, a fork in the road. This requires a diakrisis: deciding which way to go. The process of decision is always situated existentially, and it is good, indeed important, to know the path that has led to it, the approach to the point of entry. Ignatian spirituality has clarified the process itself, but has not specified precisely the scope of what to consider. In the Spiritual Exercises lgnatius's guidance in the pro-cess of election seems to be directed mainly to an individual mak-ing a decision about his or her future state of life. But commentators indicate that the principles are not restricted to such instances. Since Ignatius and his companions use similar prin-ciples for many of their decisions, it would seem that the process of election is applicable to all levels of human decision. This is indeed to be expected if we are fully aware of divine invitations at all levels of human activity. So we have to widen the scope here also. The most obvious level of decision making is that of the con-scious self. It concerns an action for which .one will be directly and personally responsible. But not many decisions, if any, are totally private. So the interpersonal is nearly always present in decision making. It is then a decision that affects those who are involved in a relationship, and we would expect that the process of discernment would implicate all participants. Decisions concern-ing close friendship and marriage are good examples of this, and Review for Religious one can widen the scope to community decisions, family deci-sions, and so forth. The moment of decision, the need for discernment, may not be obvious when persons reflect and discern purely as individuals, but may become obvious on the social level and then brought down to the personal. Good examples of this would be an eco-nomic crisis or a population crisis, each with its repercussions on the life of the community, the family, and the individual. Still wider areas of decision may involve cultural changes, religious or institu-tional sclerosis, or natural disasters. These will require decision-making processes that have a wide place of entry, but do not ignore personal elements (which are never absent). In these areas Ren~ Simon's reflection on the relationship between law and discernment is helpful. The process of election will be very different, but the basic elements will be these: insight based on some interpretative belief, examination of the challenge by means of dialogue, and proiection towards the realm of action for assess-ment and choice. With regard to the charismatic role of discern-ment in relation to institutional sclerosis, Ladislaus Boros makes the following interesting remark: "The charismatic and underiv-able aspect is essential to the church, .for God has never retired, as it were, in favor of the official ecclesial administration. Nor has he abdicated in favor of the guidance of the Holy Spirit given to the higher and highest instances of.the church. God himself is the Spirit [see Jn 3:8] blowing 'where it listeth,' [blowing] alike on children and idiots, the poor and simple, and theologians of all kinds" (p. 78). Clearly we are dealing here with a widening continuum. Division into sections is arbitrary. Yet there appear to be both an inner limit to this continuum and an outer one, limits beyond which we seem to lose control. At the inner limit we enter so deeply into the self that the processes become unconscious. The creative dynamism is still active, but escapes our grasp. Eastern religions (Hinduism and Buddhism) and perhaps certain forms of Christian mysticism situate our connection to the absolute at this level. At the outer limit we grope toward the immensity of the cosmos and fail to grasp it. This time it is the far heavens that are beyond us. Within these two limits we can set the realm and scope The interpersonal is nearly always present in decision making. Januaty-Febrnaty 1999 Plissart ¯ The Art of Discernment of responsible praxis, the point of application of the process of discernment leading to action. The Question of Universality We are now becoming more aware that any discernment in a process of election has repercussions at all levels. Wherever. the stone may fall, it creates ripples over the whole surface of the lake. Decisions involve the same universal creative dynamism, and they have effects that resound through the whole realm of responsible praxis. This would seem to make the task of discernment abso-lutely daunting: What attitude, then, can we take? Many spiritual writers indicate that discernment does not lead to certainty. This is something we must accept at all stages of the process. We try to examine God's creative and dynamic presencefin our life, in the life of others', in our society and culture, in the world as a whole. But our point of view is inevitably limited. We try to take into account the flow of our own life from the moment of birth, or the flow of history in our communal, eccesial, or social context, but we cannot see the whole picture. Then when a prob-lem occurs, when the moment of decision arises, we try to situate ourselves in this picture, to ga~ther all possible data that might be relevant, but we can see only a few elements and have.,to be con-tent with that. We want to listen to as many people as possible because each one can give us a useful insight into the light of God that illurfiines our search, but there is always more light beyond, which we cannot fathom. We do not want to be biased; we want to be "indifferent" and try to avoid undue influences from our own background, from our s6cial or physical environment, and so forth, but we cannot extract ourselves from our own existence. We may try to see the consequences of a certain decision so as to make a better assessment, but we can see only that far, and no further. Clearly we cannot take everything into account. One rather unsatisfactory way in which this problem has usu-ally been solved, at least at the practical level, was to look at the process simply from its point of entry. For instance, if the issue was to decide about my own vocation, I would simply examine what my decision on this should be in the context of my life, and leave other decisions to be made by others, for example, church offi-cials, parents, civil authority, and so forth. Or, if the issue involved natural science--whether, for example, .to continue to develop nuclear technology--scientists would limit themselves to the sci- Revibw for Religious entific possibility and expediency and leave civil rulers to decide on the social consequences. In a sense there may be a vision of faith in such a position. If each person decides validly within his or her restricted level of insight, can we not trust the original cre-ative dynamism to realize the harmony that is its aim? Perhaps. But I believe that the above position has far too often been interpreted in a minimalist way. I believe that it is defeatist and dangerous. I believe that a true vision of faith will require of us that we try to achieve as wide a scope as possible. Therefore, at the close of this paper I would like to advocate a maximalist inter-pretation of the question I raised in the previous paragraph. The Criterion of Harmony Common Discernment Spiritual discernment and discernment in view of making a decision according to the divine will have always been considered an art. This is an implicit acceptance of the tentative value of the conclusions that are reached. But at the same time it points to the totality of impact of any decision within the whole creative flow. Our attentiveness to God's voice in our life and in the world cannot be restrictive. It must always tend to its widest possible scope. Only then can the full impact of divine creativity be recog-nized and accepted. The search for the divine will in any particular instance, and the attempt to discern which course of action would best coincide with that divine will, must situate the process of examination as widely as possible. I emphasize that it is" in the measure in which this is attempted and achieved that the dis-cernment will be a valid one and that global harmony will be fos-tered. Some examples will show this more in detail. A young woman aware of God's presence in her life, believes she is called to serve God in a special way. She enters a process of discernment to find out whether and how she should respond to such an invitation. Clearly, at least three groups will have to be involved in her discernment process to make it valid. First, she will have to consult with family and friends. The decision would Our attentiveness to God's voice in our life and in the world cannot be restrictive. January-February 1999 Plissart ¯ The Art of Discernment change not only her life, but also their relationship with her. Second, the new group she wants to join will have to be part of the discernment too, since the decision means that the group will or will not go through the change of integrating her into their circle. Third, the discernment will involve the church in which the com-mitment would be made, since her decision will occur in that con-text. Traditionally, each group of people would make their own dis-cernment and, if no consensus was reached, the final say would be settled through the exercise of authority. Yet it seems evident that a greater harmony could be achieved if each group would in some way participate in a common process of discernment. The young woman can dialogue with family and friends about her pos-sible vocation. She can dialogue with the new group to see how her decision would affect her and them. Members of the group can meet her family and exchange opinions on the project, church officials could speak with representatives of the group about the decision, and so forth. If each participant is genuinely searching for guidance from above, the. decision-making process itself and the outcome of it will foster harmony among these people. Such coop-eration will witness to divine creativity at work. Another example. A local religious community wants to decide whether to continue its insertion into a depressed urban area or take on another responsibility. Traditionally, they go through a process of discernment as a group while their superiors also con-sider the decision. Though the local church community might be implicated in the decision, it might not be consulted. When groups arrive at opinions separately, tension easily arises if and when sep-arately formed opinions do not coincide. Here again a common discernment process--at various levels according to possibilities-- would undoubtedly foster harmony: Let the local religious group and the local Christian community meet and exchange on the pro-ject. Let superiors come and .discuss the issue with the local reli-gious community. Let all persons in the several groups be given a chance to go through their personal discernment process in dia-logue with each other. Let the local church authorities dialogue with the group of religious and with the local Christian commu-nity, and so forth. Let the participants allow, in each of these encounters, the Spirit of God to illumine their hearts and minds through the contributions of others. Thereby they will witness to. God's creation of, respect for, and empowering of people who Review for Religious have wonderful differences among themselves. In doing so they will certainly create harmony. A final example. A number of homeless people have occupied a derelict building and are now threatened with eviction because the area must be transformed into a recreation ground. The home-less people refuse to leave. Some local pastors support them in the name of the gospel. The local politician is under pres-sure because the potential inv

Issue 46.3 of the Review for Religious, May/June 1987. ; REVIEW FO, RELIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO. 63108-3393. REWEW FOg RELiGiOUS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. ©1987 by REVIEW FOg RELiGiOUS. Single copies $2.50. Subscriptions: U.S.A. $11.00 a year; $20.00 for two years. Other countries: add $4.00 per year (surface mail); airmail (Book Rate): $18.00 per year. For subscription orders or change of address, write: Rv.vlv.w FOR REI.I(;IOUS: P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Daniel F.X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read M. Anne Maskey, O.S.F. Editor Associate Editor Review Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editors May/June, 1987 Volume 46 Number 3 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REVIEW FOIl REI.I~;IOtlS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Richard A. Hill, S.J.; J.S.T.B.; 1735 LeRoy Ave., Berkeley, CA 94709. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from REVIEW fOR REI.I~:IOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. A major portion of each issue is also available on cassgtte recordings as a service for the visu-ally impaired. Write to the Xavier Society for the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY 10010. Mary and Our Reconciliation in Christ Donald Macdonald, S.M.M. Father Macdonald has written yet another thoughtful and fruitful article on Mary our Mother. His last article on Mary was "Our Lady of Wisdom" (May/June, 1986). His last article in our pages was "Invisibly Companioned" (January/February, 1987). Father Macdonald still resides at: St. Joseph's; Wellington Road; Todmorden, Lanc.: 0LI4 5HP England. It is puzzling to read from time to time that,- seemingly, the appeal of Our Lady is chiefly psychological rather than personal. So, for example, "Mary .has been a very popular image for both women and men . Men still Often seem to derive a great deal from the image of Mary, perhaps cel-ibate men. in particular, since Mary as mother provides a safe, that is, sex-ually taboo womanly image.''~ Is her appeal then in what she represents rather than who she is? Is she a popular image or a popular person? Every individual suggests more than herself, of course, but in the living of the everyday Catholic this emphasis on "the image of Mary" seems sadly unreal. There is a world of difference between admiring her icon at an exhibition and taking her into our home in faith and love. Insofar as she is seen primarily as a psychological refuge she is no longer the mother of Jesus as the Gospel reflects her. It was no image but someone authentically human who "gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in swad-dling clothes, and laid him in a manger because there was no room for them in the inn" (Lk 2:7). A male religious might be forgiven instinctive irritation as he feels him-self being patronized. More to the point, being particularly singled out as finding Our Lady a safety valve seems to contradictexperience. Is it true? The experience of an adult lifetime spent in pastoral ministry at the grass roots could more plausibly make a case for the attraction Our Lady has for the married woman or the professional man. In thinking of those with an 321 322 / Review for Religious, Ma.y--June, 1987 enviably marked and integrated devotion to Our Lady, the male celibate, while there, is by no means primary. Mary means so much to so many, far beyond the few who, it is suggested, see in her particularly a safe, sex-ually taboo womanly image. A lifetime could be spent in a Catholic com-munity without ever meeting many of that particular group, though one would certainly find genuine devotion to Our Lady. Too, contemporary novelists and journalists notwithstanding, genuine devotion to her from the male celibate has surely stronger ties than sexual security. It is a Catholic thing, not a psychological need. It is of the faith. Again, does everyday devotion to Our Lady really express itself like that? Is it mainly a popular image useful for meeting a psychological need? Whether it be the assembly line, down-market product of "repository art,'" or-the faith-aesthetic creation of a Giotto, the Christian can distinguish between the person and the product. The picture or image can focus atten, tion, and there are psychological overtones in every glimpse of Our Lady, since every individual carries more meaning than he or she knows. Mary may transform whomever and whatever she is introduced to in the context of Christian devotion. She creates her own climate in the generations con-sidering her ,blessed among women. Yet traditionally and individually within the Church, the person of Mary is known and loved beyond all that art, theory and culture might suggest. Faith and the feminine are lovely, life-enhancing qualities. To speculate about them may have some point, but cannot be compared to seeing them in a particular woman. Here lies Our Lady's appeal. Her union with her Son as the Gospel reveals this, and her oneness with us in our humanity and faith are definitive. Many talented peop!e can perhaps paint an icon, but only the specially prepared, it is said, may paint its eyes. Insight is a gift. The scientist and man of contemporary culture who considers the cathedral of Notre Dame de Paris exclusively in terms of its construction has literally not seen it. In ignoring God and her whose name it was given, he has lost the key which would unlock its meaning. This is much more than simply discarding a relative culture. The contemporary Catholic, attracted by the appeal of Our Lady, might say of her what the medieval mystic said of being gripped by the desire for contemplation: "You would run a thousand miles to talk about it with someone you know has really experienced it, and yet when you get there you can find nothing to say. ''-~ One need not be able to articulate what one knows. The common tongue of Lourdes~ Fatima, Banneux and "down-town anywhere," as far as Our Lady is concerned, is faith working through Mary and Our Reconciliation / 393 love. With the mother of the Word made flesh dwelling among us, we are in touch with someone rooted in humanity and faith. ,.- This, then, is why devotion to Our Lady in Catholic tradition is not something subjective, as a liking for sugar, but an objective reality whether we advert to it or not. It is not an arcane secret given to some esoteric group inhabiting an ethereal heaven. It cannot be when so many Christians' first real introduction to Mary is often in the world of the Christmas carol, where "earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone . " She is known by the company she keeps--like her Son, easily going to the houses of sinners to be with them. The consequent allegiance she has won in the Christian world is far from the preserve of a Gnostic group. She is real to so many. "~ray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death," is possibly the most common prayer of invocation in the Catholic world. We can, perhaps, understand something of her appeal if we consider the best which can be said of Christian life, and glimpse how genuinely she reflects it. The anonymous medieval author mentioned earlier suggests that the human spirit can safely work with God once it "has been checked by the three witnesses, Scripture, direction, and common sense.-3 We can usefully consider how Our Lady reflects authentic Christian living in the light of that rubric. A New Creation Although not to everyone's taste, our faith is incarnational and so, "God'was in Christ reconciling the world to himself" (2 Co 5: 19), says St. Paul. He goes on to explain that, as an apostle and preacher, he shares in the same office of reconciliation, since God "gave us the ministry of reconciliation . . . entrusting to us the message of reconciliation" (2 Co 5: 18-19). It follows, therefore, that "we are ambassadors for Christ, God making his appeal through us" (2 Co 5:20). Paul's mediatorial role is thus heavily emphasized in line after line. Such a mandate implies that who-ever is so commissioned as God's ambassador to help reconcile people to God must have received the enabling power of God to help him do it. He is, then, attuned to both God and man. His very person helps in binding people to God. "All this is from God" (2 Co 5:18). How is it done? It all depends on what is seen. Paul begins where the New Testament begins, with God first loving us in Christ. "For the love of Christ overwhelms us when we reflect." (2 Co 5: 14), he says, quite bowled over as he comes to an ever-wondering realization of what God has done for us in Christ. Christ, as one of us, lived, died and rose from a grave so that, in him, we might break out of our congenitally self-centered exis-tence which can even challenge the will of God, and so be able to "live 3~.4 / Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 no longer for themselves but for him [Christ] who for their sake died and was raised" (2 Co 5:15). Insofar as I am at one with the selfless Christ I can do the same. This vision of God in Christ can,provide the dynamic to draw me out of myself towards the will of God. Paul, a man among men, shackled, too, in the same self-centered world, and so wanting to be free of it, but seemingly powerless to change, now knows that this is possible in Christ. Paint the picture in the most somber colors, as bleak as can be, in a world where personal sin and selfishness can wreak havoc in epidemic proportions, and in it all Paul sees Christ. "For our sake, he [the Father] made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God" (2 Co 5:21). Whatever depths of evil can be reached individually or collectively, God in Christ is there empowering those who would accept him to break free of its infernal power: "All this is from God, who through Christ reconciled us to himself" (2 Co 5:18). This Paul sees and is part of as Christ's ambassador, engaged in reconciling his world to God. So deep is this view of reality that Paul sees it as something wholly new, not just a change or adaptation. "If anyone is in Christ he is a new creation; the old has passed away, behold the new has come" (2 Co 5:17). His center of reference now is God giving himself in Christ. The selfless Christ replaces the selfish Paul, as he breathes the invigorating air of one now free to live for God.He is still an imperfect man with partial vis~ion, but insofar as his lifeqs a response to God in Christ, he can only describe what is happening to him as a new creation. Ideally, he describes Chris-tian reality. His world has been recreated. Glorifying God If such a grasp of reality is true of Paul and the best of Christians, and true of us :all to a degree, it is, self-evidently, descriptive, too, of Our Lad~,. That vision is flawlessly realized in her. Sinless from her conception and now assumed into heaven, she is a new creation from the mind of God. So alive to God is she that she is alert to the implications of her being way beyond any experience of ours. She hungered for the will of God, so it became her food (see Lk 1:53). "Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord; let it be to me according to your Word" (Lk 1:38) is the total response of the new creation. She is blessed, the Gospel maintains, because she believed and there-fore gave herself wholly to the Word of God. She is particularly blessed "among women, and blessed is the fruit of [her] womb" (Lk 1:42) as in her God in Christ was reconciling the world to himself. Her Son Jesus "will save his people from their sins" (Mt i:21). As the Word became Mary and Our Reconciliation / 325 flesh in her womb and in her life, having been welcomed in faith and love into her heart, her maternal being from first to last becomes part of the gift of her Son: "And going into the house they saw the child with Mary his mother"; "But standing by the cross of Jesus were his mother, and his mother's sister" (Mt 2:1 I, Jn 19:25). Only a mother, perhaps, could under-stand the give and take of that exchange over a lifetime. Mary, one with her Son at so many levels as the years went by, learned so much of life as he lived in and for his Father's will, and yet "he went down with them and came to Nazareth and was obedient to them; and his mother kept all these things in her heart" (Lk 2:51). The reflective Chris-tian, too, has assimilated much of the perplexity of life in oneness with the heart of Mary. When she stood with her crucified Son as his life ended in ag6ny, "Jesus saw his mother, and the disciple whom he loved standing near" (Jn 19:26), and gave them to each other. Far from seeing this as a son tying up loose ends as best he could--his use of the word woman sug-gests more than a domestic arrangement--generations have felt the weight of those words from the Cross, and have gladly accepted the relationship, taking ourLady into their own homes. She is not then seen as just a type or evocative image of yesterday. Her appeal is of today and tomorrow, as her reconciling presence helps Christians to welcome and live the appeal of the Gospel in the Church. Admittedly these Gospel glimpses of Mary are or~ly straws in the wind, but many in the Church have loved the way the wind was blowing. The Pauline sketch of reconciliation in Second Corinthians outlined earlier, can become real in her person. This is especially true of those who could never read St. Paul, nor perhaps even pronounce the word "reconciliation." She radiates Christ, invariably generating the wonder and pleasur6 of Elizabeth's welcome as Mary hurried to her door: "And why is this granted me, that the mother of my Lord should come to me?" (Lk 1:43). "Mother of my Lord" is, in the context, a new creation in Christ, ideally and providentially there to help reconcile us to God. Her heaven, too, is being spent doing good upon earth. DirectionmWhat Do the Saintlike Advise? Given that Our Lady, because of who she is in the providence of God, mediates God in Christ to us through her feminine, reconciling presence, we can reinforce that insight by continuing to take the advice of an English mystic and seek direction. What did those with the clearest Christian insight advise? What did the saints andsaintlike do? Perhaps we can glance at Julian of Norwich who, in her fourteenth-century hermitage, has distilled 396 / Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 sufficient insight to be found today on contemporary bookshelves as a best-selling paperback. Julian tlad asked for a bodily vision of Our Lady. She was never given one, but "when Jesus said: 'Do you wish to see her?" it seemed to me that I had the greatest delight that he could have given me in this spiritual vision of her which he gave me.-4 Delight, of course, is characteristic of Julian's understanding of the Faith, and she finds Our Lady delightful. She is enthralled by this God-given insight, and clear as to its implications: "And so he [Jesus] wishes it to be known that all who take delight in him should take delight in her and in the delight that he has in her and she in him." There is no suggestion here of tension, division or embarrassment. It is all so perfectly natural. Julian's understanding of the Faith, like St. Paul's, centers on Godwin Christ reconciling the world to himself through the cross. So suffused is it by the love of God--Julian really had grasped Paul's insight--that she can only delight in what God is doing. Responding as she does to Our Lady, she believes that she is sharing in Christ's delight in his mother and in hers in him. "For after myself [Jesus] she is the greatest ~joy that I could show you, and the greatest delight and honor to me." Far from seeing any contradiction or distraction in so honoring Our Lady, Julian sees it as the express will of Christ. One might reasonably expect this, as the relationship echoes the best in human nature as well as suggesting the hundredfold of all who are at one with God. Whenever delight is experienced, the whole person is marked, together with a~wish that everyone could see it, coupled with sad-ness and incomprehension if the delight cannot be shared. Julian, a new creation in Christ, savoring with an immediacy given to few his reconciling presence, sees Mary as part of the treasure to be found in Christ. Mary, for her, is not tacked on in a moment of misguided devotion, but rather soldered on by the love and will of God, intrinsically, if subordinately, part of the reconciliation found in Christ. In Mary she sees herself and all of us, "as if he [Jesus] said, do you wish to see in her how you are loved? It is for love of you that I have made her so exalted, so noble, so honorable; and this delights me. And I wish it' to°delight you." Maryqs no shadow across the face of Christ, but a further means of shar-ing delight in what God is doing in Christ. As one in Christ we may savor this, too, and insofar as we can see just how much we are loved in her, enjoy a comforting glimpse of our present and future status. It is not without interest that in the shorter text of Julian's "Revela-tions," believed to have been written some twenty years before the longer Mary and Our Reconciliation /327 text we have been using, she adds, after seeing Christ more gloriously than she had yet realized, "In this I was taught that every contemplative soul to whom it is given to look and seek, will see Mary and pass on to God through contemplation.-5 As always, in Julian the tone is uniform and the perspective unforced, and her faith is so alive in her belief that attachment to Our Lady will inevitably bring us to its source in God. Mary herself effects the transition, reconciling to God whoever is open to h~r influence. ~ It is said that, increasingly, women find less and less in Our Lady "as women discover themselves as less passive than Mary is made to appear in the gospels.",° They therefore look for other models. Women can, of course, speak for themselves, but as regards passivity in the gospels, it is useful to remember that the biblical "divine passive" is often just a passive tense serving to emphasize the wholly present activity of God. So, for exam-ple, Paul speaks of Christ, "who for their sake, died and was raised" (2 Co 5:15). God in Christ is not molding plasticine. The death and resurrection of Christ is not the behavior of a mechanic using an inert tool, but God's response to a life actively given to his will, even to accepting death in his name. The passive tense implies an active God and willing human Cooperation, and so as Paul said of the process of reconciliation, "All this is from God" (2 Co 5:18). So, too, when Julian speaks of those "to whom it is given to look and to seek," far from indicating lack of initiative in a passive recipient, she is speaking of someone alert and alive, empowered by the driving Spirit of God:. Motherhood strikes one as possibly the least passive of all vocations, especially as glimpsed in Mary's life in the gospels. She is so attractive and influential today simply because whatever God said she did in'faith. Does anyone really believe that banner headlines in a newspaper or a pic-ture on the cover of Time magazine are the measure of lasting influence? With so much left unsaid in the gosPels, it may well be'that the feminine, creative, nourishing and responsive qualities of Mary are what God has valued in her. Without these, people wither and personal relations are bleak. The old advice is still sound: "Do not teach [God] his business. Let him be. He has enough might, skill and goodwill to do the best for you and for all who love him.''7 Julian is always concerned for her "fellow-Christians," and her delight in the Faith is tangible, though she, too, lived in a socially horrific age. Calm self-possession is her keynote, never raising her voice. There is none of the stress that takes so many women today to the bottle or drugs, the counselor or the hospital. So many are living lives of quiet desperation, while others are teetering on the edge of despair. She writes out of con- Review for Religious, ~May--June, 1987 cern, with the simplicity of wisdom reflecting what she sees in faith. Her teaching of the natural delight of mother and son, and Christ's desire that we share in it, since we see just how much we are loved by God .in her, is surely, "simple, courteous, joyful.''8 Her guidance is at one with so much that is good in the Church. Common Sense God was in Christ recon~ciiing the world to himself. Those closest to him are effective mediators of his presen.ce. Clearly, "Paul, an apostle-- not from men or through man, but through Jesus Christ and God the Father" (Ga l:l), is superbly placed, but the origin of that call is valid, too, for Our Lady: Immaculately~conceived, bringing Christ into the world, raising him, beside him as he died, praying in the Church then, and now within the Church gloriously assumed into heaven, common sense would suggest that such a woman cannot but help in reconciling us to God. "This is only what sanctified common sense would expect: that God should keep safe all who for love of him forsake themselves, indifferent to their Own welfare.-9 The safety that is now hers she wants to be ours, and almost instinctively the Catholic faithful have felt this. In view of who she ~is in the providence of God, generations have opened themselves to her influ-ence in an often very unsafe world. G.K. Chesterton emphasized this when he told of the reaction of two eminent nineteenth.century Victorians to news of the proclamation of Our Lady's Immaculate Conception. Prince Albert was the husband of the leg-endary Queen Victoria who gave her name to an era, .and W.E. Gladstone was one of the outstaffding political figures of the age. If Chesterton is to be believed, the proposed declaration by the pope of Our Lady's Immac-ulate Conception was greeted with indecent hilarity by the former and with grief by the latter, as each in his own way saw in it the sign of the immi-nent downfall of Catholic. Christianity. Both were agreed that it would be unpopular. Albert and Gladstone, who both worked conscientiously for the poor, "understood so little of what that crown and image really meant to millions of ordinary people . Yet the applewoman did not dash madly out of church; seamstresses in garrets did not dash their little images ,of Mary to the ground, on learning that she was named Immaculate."~° Chesterton then speak~ of the first appearance of Our Lady at Lourdes some four years later. While the influential and educated still puzzled, "little knots of poor peasants began to gather round a strange, starved child before a crack in the rocks from whence was to spring a strange stream and almost a new city; the rocks she had heard resound with a voice crying, 'I am the Immaculate Conception.' " Did Albert and Gladstone~ men of Mary and Our Reconciliation / 329 integrity, even remotely approach the influence for good with ordinary people that is associated with the name Bernadette Soubirous? Shrines such. as Lourdes and private revelations such as Julian's are not to be considered as though from St. Paul and the gospels. Yet as a fact of life within the Church and with the approval of the Church, such places and similar insights undeniably have helped reconcile so many from every walk of life to God. In the light of Mary's Immaculate Conception each one of us is handicapped and in need, and she has particular appeal for those who are aware of their need. Here, especially, her faith and her fem-ininity are found so attractive, as she is known to be present now in imag-inative sympathy. In the circumstances, common sense would direct us to her company. Jimmy Durante used to celebrate that he was "the guy who found the lost chord." Unhappily, in the same breath, he had to admit that he had lost it again! It is given to few to be truly original. Life, genes, language, skills, food--virtually everything of consequence that has made us what we are have been mediated to us by others. It is the human condition, and it is the supernatural condition. Even the insights of a St. Paul are, under God, largely the result of an interchange, often troubled, between himself and his people. "The fathers have eaten sour grapes and the children's teeth are set on edge," may not be valid in terms of personal guilt, but it is true in terms of personal influence. Human beings transmit life and superb medical care, as well as AIDS and drug-dependent babies. Often the fruits of the Spirit are mediated through others as are the sins of the flesh. We all have reason to thank God for some of the people we have met as well as to regret the influence of others. As mediated experience is a fact of life for good or ill, common sense; would suggest that nothing but good can come from opening ourselves to Our Lady's influence. Her selfless, perceptive being, one person in Christ with ourselves, radiates God as she delights in the Lord her Savior. What-ever life did to her, "Mary kept all these things, pondering them in her heart" (Lk 2:19). Open to her reconciling influence, we too can assimilate experience, responding to God's presence in a sacramental world. Finally, common sense would especially commend that religious, who "ought to be poor in both fact and spirit" (Perfectae Caritatis 13), con-sider Our Lady's guidance in the search to be truly reconciled to God. She sees further and more clearly than any other guide in the Church, and her encouraging presence is always here. With increasing affluence, or possi-bly insensitivity, numbers of religious travel far looking for enlightenment. It is not wrong of course, but there does seem to be an innate contradic- 330 / Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 tion in the context of poverty when, for example, the search may take a religious to an a~hram in India, the deserts of Israel or California, or to the monasteries of Japan, Whatever insight is gained may be at the cost of a threadbare vow of poverty. Our Lady once appeared so nondescript as not to merit a first glance when she came with the offering of .the poor. Yet to the one truly enlight-ened by the Holy Spirit she was seen to be carrying in her arms "a light for revelation to the Gentiles" (Lk 2:32). She still reflects that same light now wherever we are in Christ. NOTES ~ M. Furlong, "The Power of,Images," The Way, October 1986, p. 299. 2 The Epistle of Privy Counsel, Chapter II, in The Cloud of Unknowing and Other Works, Penguin Books, 1978. 3 The Epistle of Privy Counsel, Chapter 10. 4 Julian of Norwich, Showings, Chapter 215, tr. E. C011edg~ and J. Walsh, Paulist Press, New York, 1978. All quotations are from Chapter 25 of this edition. 5 Julian of Norwich, op. cit., short text, Chapter 13. 6 M o Furlong, op. cit., p. 299. 7 The Epistle of Privy Counsel, Chapter 10. 8 Julian of Norwich, op. cit., short text, Chapter 13. 9 The Epistle of Privy Counsel, Chapter 6. ~0GoK. Chesterton, The Strange Talk of Two Victorians, and The Common Man, Sheed and Ward, 1950. Each quotation is from this essay. Brothers in the Church: A Vocational Reflection William Mann, F.S.C. Brother Mann is in his eighth year as a Formation Counselor for the Brothers of the Christian Schools. He had also served as Assistant Provincial for Formation (1979- 1984) and Director of Novices up to the present. He may be, addressed at: Christian Brothers; 83 West Lake Street: Skaneateles, New York 13152. ,~ few years ago, I volunteered to work at a Soup kitchen in Rhode Island. As my first experience of working with the street poor, it was both diffi-cult and challenging. Most of the time, I was afraid; and my fear kept me washing dishes and away from the people. I was attempting to make my contribution and avoid contact at the same time. On more courageous days, I would visit the dining room to sit and talk with the guests. Occasionally, I ventured, into the lounge to socialize after a meal. On one particularly hot day, a six-year-old child walked over to me, climbed into my lap, and using a shredded and badly soiled napkin wiped the perspiration from my forehead. He kissed my cheek, hugged me, and moved my heart. So para-lyzed by my own fears that I found it difficult to offer hospitality, this poor child reached out and offered me love. The story of my encounter with this young boy in a soup kitchen high-lights four key aspects of the vocation of Brother: I) ours is primarily a ministry of example; 2) our ministry on behalf of the Gospel and on behalf of the sanctification of others r~quires our own radical transformation; 3) those to whom we minister will be the instruments of our own conversion; and 4) 9urs is, therefore, primarily a ministry of reciprocity and mutuality. At the time that this incident occurred, I was teaching English and reli-gion in a coed secondary school. "Example makes a much greater 331 339 / Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 impression on the mind and heart than words."~ If I wanted my students to take seriously the admonition of Jesus to feed the hungry and clothe the naked and visit the imprisoned, then I knew that I was going to have to put those words into action myself. In twenty-two years as a Brother of the Christian Schools, I can hon-estly say that I have attempted to put my life at the service of the Gospel. As teacher, activity moderator, dormitory supervisor, school administrator, retreat director, and now formation counselor, I have worked consistently at proclaiming the Gospel by word and by example. Often this has been a humbling experience. "We are only the earthenware jars that hold this treasure, to make it clear that such an overwhelming power comes from God and not from us" (2 Co 4:7). My entire life as a vowed religious brother is a sincere, and yet sometimes inadequate, attempt to put the Gospel into practice. Accompanying those students each Wednesday to the soup kitchen was just one concrete instance of living out this commitment. "Your zeal for the children under your guidance would be very imperfect, if you expressed it only in teaching them; it will only become perfect if you practice yourself what you are teaching them. ''~- The example of Chris-tianity lived is what "brother-ing" is all about. Although religious brothers have traditionally been identified by the work we do (teacher, health practitioner, parish assistant, or manual laborer), I contend that our particular ministry, while significant in terms of individual congregations, is not of the essence of our vocation in the Church. It is the choice to be called "brother" which has always pinpointed our key contribution. Our very existence as brothers announces the new world order ushered in by Christ. We understand ourselves to be among those chosen by God "long ago and intended to become true ima.ges of his Son, so that his Son might be the eldest of many brothers [and sisters]" (Rm 8:29). The Scriptures tirge us to "love our neighbor as ourself" (Mt 22:39). That child reached out to me in love; and I believe that, in his person, Jesus Christ reached out to me and reminded me that, since God is my Father, all of us are'brothers and sisters. That young child reminded me that I was his brother, and challenged me to accept the people around me and not to get caught up in the differences of age, class, or color. He reminded me that God intends that we should love one another and that we should let go of the prejudices, defenses, fears, and barriers that hold us back from truly being his children, brothers and sisters of one another. This very ministry in which I was engaged on behalf of others was requiring that I °Brothers in the Church / 333 change. I was being challenged to live more fully the message that I preached. I was at the soup kitchen on this particular day precisely because I was trying to educate my students to share the gifts and the blessings of their own lives with those less fortunate. However, Jesus used the opportunity to challenge me to see him among the poor. This is the second key aspect of the vocation of brother; our consecration as brothers commits us to a life of transformation. Loving Jesus always means being changed. I wanted to help my students; Jesus chose to help me be more open to receiving the blessing the poor could be in my life. I went to the soup kitchen hoping to embody the loving presence of Jesus in the world; I returned home having encountered Jesus' loving presence in another. Initially, it seemed ironic that I was challenged to live the Gospel more wholeheartedly by the very people for whom I was attempting to be its proclamation. This was, however, the very heart of the teaching of St~ John Baptist DeLaSalle on what it means to be a brother. Furthermore, this was not only DeLaSalle's teaching; it was his own experience. We minister to others, but they call us to holiness. St. John Baptist DeLaSalle founded the Brothers of-the Christian Schools in France in 1679 to give a Christian education to the children of the working class and the poor. By 1682, however, the Society of the Chris-tian Schools was threatened with collapse. DeLaSalle urged his first di~cj-. pies to trust in Providence. As with the birds of the air and the lilies of the field, God would provide (Mt 6:25-30). The brothers challenged .DeLaSalle's right to say these things. He still had great family weal~l~ and a prestigious position as Canon of the Cathedral of Reims. What did he know of trusting in Divine Providence? If the schools collapsed, he would be safe. In his attempt to minister to the brothers, DeLaSalle hims61f was called' to holiness. He attempted to announce the Gospel to them; they challenged tiimto a fuller living of the Gospel. The first biographers report that so complete was his devotion tO the brothers and to the foundation of the Christian Schools that he heard in their challerlge the invitation of Jesus to take the Gospel more seriously, resign his Canonry, and distribute his wealth among the poor.3 Christ continues to speak to the brother through his disciples. If" we open our eyes and our hearts, we will continue to hear in them the invita-tion to draw closer to God. I believe that~this is what DeLaSalle meant when he wrote: "You can be assured that if you act this way [with an ardent zeal] for their salvation, God himself will take responsibility for yours."4 He was not speaking here of some kind of mysterious and passive 334 / Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 transformation. He was articulating his own experience. In proclaiming the Gospel to others, the Gospel lays claim on our own hearts. God uses the people and the situations of our lives to evangelize us. Through them and for the sake of the Gospel, God gradually refashions us into the image of his Son. Over and over again, the people and the situations of my life have pro-vided the opportunity to draw closer to Christ. There have been many times in my life when Jesus has asked me to recognize him and to love him in another person. Sometimes that person has been someone for whom I cared deeply; at times, that person has been a complete stranger. What has so often struck me in the Gospel has been the ability of Jesus to be open to all kinds of people in so many different situations. He saw in every person he met a reflection of his Father, a new and unique and beautiful side of God that could be seen in no other person or in no other place on this earth. I believe that Jesus calls us to open our eyes and our hearts to him as he continues to show himself to us in one another. Hence, ours is a ministry marked by reciprocity and mutuality. "They are a letter which Christ dictates to you, which you write each day in their hearts, not with ink, but by the Spiri! of the living God.-5 In inviting others to holiness, our own lives are opened to holiness. Those to whom we min-ister facilitate the capturing by the Gospel of our own hearts. I more and more suspect that this is the key aspect of the vocation of brother. In our openness to the evangelical dimension of everyday life, we provide our clearest witness on behalf of the Gospel. What greater example can be given than that I allow another to become the instrument of my own con-version to a fuller living of Gospel values? Jesus Christ is the "pearl of great price" (Mt 13: 44-46), and I ardently .desire to "share Jesus with those who have been entrusted to my care. We brothers desire to share "the treasure we have found hidden in the field of our own lives. ,,6 Our world is already bombarded with empty and meaningless words. What is needed are people who not only speak of Jesus but who act as followers of Jesus. What is needed are people who follow him so wholeheartedly that they become new incarnations of God's loving presence in the world. This is what I believe the vocation of brother is all about; this is what I am trying to do with my life---do this because I.believe this is what God Wants me to do. Furthermore, I do it because I believe that there are millions of people on our planet today~some Chris-tians, some Jews and Moslems, som6 far away, but very many are young Americans who look,to see if anyone any longer takes Jesus Christ seri- Brothers" in the Church / 335 ously. What hangs in the balance is the very credibility of the Gospel itself: 7 St. Paul assures us that the wisdom of this world is not the wisdom of God (I Co 3~!9); and I do not doubt that, in the face of a modern' Amer-ican society that encourages and fosters a pursuit of pleasure, possessions, and self-interest,8 it is perceived by many as foolhardy to be willing to want God to be more important than anything else in this world, and courageous enough to take the vows of chastity, poverty, and obedience. Yet we broth-ers are bold enough to believe that our own radical, personal conversion to Gospel values really has the potential to make a difference in the lives of those around us. We believe that this is the gift which Jesus Christ intends us to be for his Church. As DeLaSalle writes: "Be convinced of what St. Paul says, that you plant and water the seed, but it is God through Jesus Christ who makes it grow, that he is the one who brings your work to fulfillment?. ~ Earnestly ask him to make his Spirit come alive in you, since he has chosen you to do his work.-9 NOTES ~ John Baptist DeLaSalle, Meditations for the Time of Retreat, trans. Augustine Loes (Winona, Minnesota: St. Mary's College Press, 1975), p. 94] 2 DeLaSalle, p. 80~ 3 John Baptist Blain, The Life. of John Baptist DeLaSalle, trans. Richard Arnandez (Winona, Minnesota: St. Mary's College Press, 1982), Vol. I, Book I, pp. 81-84; Eli Maillefer, The Life of John Baptist DeLaSalle, trans. William Quinn (Winona, Minnesota: St. Mary's College Press, 1963), pp. 27-28. 4 DeLaSalle, p. 91. 5 DeLaSalle, p. 54. 6 Jose Pablo Basterrechea, "Address of the Superior General to the Regional Convoca-tion of the Brothers of the Christian Schools" (Mgraga, California: Regional Convoca-tion, 1984). 7 James Wallis, The Call to Conversion (S~in Francisco! Harper and Row, 1981); Pedro Arrupe, "What Is the Greatest Service Which Religious Can Give Today to Human-ity and to the Church?" Donum Dei No. 24 (1978). 8 John Kavanaugh, Following Christ in a Consumer Society (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, ~981). 9 DeLaSalle, p. 56. ' Appropriate Formation Martin O'Reilly, C.F.C. Brother O'Reilly, Director:of Formation for his community in Liberia, previously wrote "Current Conceptions of Religious Formation: An Analysis"r (November/Dece,mbe.r issue, 1985). His address is: Christian Brothers; P.O. Box 297; Monrovia, Liberia; West Africa. When Captain Smith of the Titanic uttered the words, "The only ice around here, Sparks, is in my drink," he was displaying a characteristic common to most of us--skepticism. When many American and European religious hear of the great vocation boom within the develoPing churches and look at their own decreasing numbers and formation houses being turned into retreat centers and homes for the aged, they skeptically wonder: "How it is that so many young Africans and others are being attracted to living a life of community, prayer and service as religious?" When I returned to Liberia in 1982 after an absence of eight years, we still had no local brothers in our West African communities~espite erect-ing a novitiate building in 1975 and having made it clear toall and sundry that we were keen to welcome local candidates into our communities. As I write this article in 1987 we have, to date, eighteen Wes~ African mem-bers and a thriving candidacy.program. We have just missioned our first West African brothers to set up a new community to work among leprosy sufferers, and fully expect to open another community elsewhere in either Liberia or Sierra Leone during the coming year. It seems fantastic to many in our congregation that in the space of five years we have more novices and junior professed religious in West Africa than in many of our other pro-vinces combined together. When people ask me how it is, I usually tell 336 Appropridte Formation / 337 them that it is the Holy Spirit's work--and something called "Appropri-ate Formation." This article will be concerned with defining the meaning of a religious formation that is~rooted within a developing-church situation. I will be using categories and concepts normally associated with the development of appropriate technology in developing economic and social orders, and .'using them to map out a theory of religious formation that is ,appropri-ate" to this new wave of young religious that congregations throughout the developing world are beginning to welcome into their ranks. In the second part of the article I will outline some of the important issues that our own young West Africah members felt should be on the agenda for an appro-priate formation. Appropriate Formation: A Definition Appropriate formation involves the application of the principles of reli-gious life to concrete local situations. This means developing ways or "technologies" which can be defined as "replicable methods for solving community problems and developing the capacities of communities to achieve their own goals" (S.B. Fawcett, R.M. Mathews and R.K. Fletcher, "Some Promising Dimensions for Behavioral Community Tech-nology," Journal of Applied Behavior Analysis, 13, 1980). These authors propose that seven dimensions of a technology must be considered to ensure the appropriateness of the technology: - Effectiveness - Expense - Decentralization - Flexibility -Sustainability - Simplicity - Compatibility A new technology means anew way of.doing things for the people who use the technology or who are affected by its use. For any significant change in behavior or attitudes to persist and the technology to be effective, the rewards, satisfactions and achievements obtained have to clearly outweigh the efforts and difficulties involved. For this to happen in the area of religious formation, formators need to have a firm understanding of what are to be the intended outcomes, methods t6 be used, content to be consid-ered and evaluation procedures which will° make up their formation pro-gram. This will, of necessity, demand that'~i formator sit down with both professed members of the group a~d neophytes, and work out what real- 338 / Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 istic goals a formation community can set itself, what practical wfiys they can be realized, and their appropriateness evaluated at different stages of the formation program. Inexpensiveness is of'considerable importance in a context such as West Africa since cash incomes are generally low. If we expect r~ligious from such regions ,!o earn their own keep and to be credible followers of the "chaste, poor and obedient Christ" for their people, then their formation experience should~prepare them f6r this reality. The end values of religious life shouid"not be obscured by the trappings of a partiCular lifestyle that is alien to the majority of Candidates prior tO entering a religious com-munity. Decentralization means the application of technology at a local level rather than from a remote center. Local religious will need to assume full responsibility .for the living out of their commitment, and not look to over-seas generalates and provincialates for direction on every facet of their lives. They are "the people on the spot," and they need both the compe-tence and the confideqce to discern in what direction the Spirit is calling them. As far as possible, ~those in initial formation need to be shown that responsibility and accountability are intrinsic to religious life. If candidates are not willing to grow in these areas, then there is no place for them 4n a religious community. If formation technologies are not flexible there is. little chance that people will be prepared to handle the gigantic social and pastora, I devel-opments that are taking place in so many parts of the world. There has to be a clear distinction made during religious formation between the end values and the means values of religious life. The end values are not negotiable, but the means ones can be redefined in the light of new insights among the members and the needs of the Church and of society. A flex-ible dimension in religious formation will concern itself with presenting a range of options to cope with specific concerns, and will include guide-lines for Change according to the felt needs of the group in formation. A frequent concern of formation personnel is that many young reli-gious, after having passed through the novitiate, experience a painful regression to the state they were in prior to entering the community. It is as though no significant personal or spiritual development had taken place. Often the cause~of this is because the technology, or way of being a reli-gious, is not sustainable: at the local community level. They leave the novitiate with either unreal expectations of what religious life will be,, and are disillusioned with what they find to be t.he reality~ or they flounder with- 6ut ihe strong guiding hand of a r~ligious specifically missioned to help Appropriate Formation / 339 them overcome every hurdle they may encounter. A gradualist strategy is needed during formation wherein "stretch-outs" are provided so as to allow young religious to know what it means to live, pray and work in a typical community of the congregation. Here they can focus on the con-crete problems of religious life rather than on the long range goal-setting which makes up so much of the agenda of religious formation. A new technology must be simple and comprehensible enough to be understood by its potential users. Religious formators will need to acknowl-edge the "multi-path" approach when dealing with candidates coming from differing social, economic and educational and faith backgrounds. There. have to be features of a formation program that provide for acceler-ation when goals are realized and values interiorized, and a locking-in system that prevents regression from gains obtained. Finally, any new technology must fit into the community or society at large. To be compatible with the surroundings from which the candidates are comirig and in which their religious formation is taking place, the new technology must be seen to work. It must be seen to provide religious men and women whose lifestyle is clearly valued and appreciated by the immedi-ate society. If religious life is seen as wholly meaningless by those around, it is difficult to see how an individual can commit himself or herself unreservedly to such a vocation. Appropriate Formation: An Agenda I want to turn now to a consideration of what are some of the problems facing young local religious. I shall outline these issues within the frame-work of the three end values of religious life---community, prayer and ser-vice. To identify what are the problems our young religious will have to confront is the necessary first step towards devising a formation program appropriate to the people and situation in which religious life will find a new beginning. Community. ~ The issue of where a person's primary loyalties lie---either with one's extended family or with the community--is a source of tension for most local religious at one stage.or another of their lives. Appropriate formation must tackle this area sensitively but una.mbiguously: "No, a community cannot take on the responsibility of supporting and educating younger mem-bers of a local religious' family; but yes, a community will help in a crisis or an emergency as best as it can." Formal membership in a religious.con-gregation must broaden a person's "in" group to .those past and living mem-bers of the congregation around the world. If the extended family holds 340 / Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 the central loyalties of the young religious, then eventually a clash will come and he or she will be the casualty. It is hard to be a citizen of two worlds! Unless serious efforts are made to tackle the issue where a person's identity and sense of belonging lie, feelings of inauthenticity may arise within the young religious, and eventually may lead to their departure from the community. Likewise, with the question of tribal or national bonds, while encour-aging people to be proud of their heritage, those distinctions which blur the call of a person to see everyone as his or her brother or sister in Christ, must be faced up to during the period of initial formation. Tribalism, mean-ing the preference for one's own tribe over national interests, is a growing political concern in post-colonial Africa. Local religious can easily fall into a tribal mentality with disastrous consequences for community living. Going against tribalism is no easy thing and young religious need to be under no illusion that to have respect for each person's tribal identity is one of the primary signs that they can give to their people of the inclusive nature of the kingdom of God. Many of those who apply for membership in religious communities in developing countries carry with them stories of how they had to struggle against all odds to complete their schooling and perhaps to start in a career. This experience of being a "survivor," when so many of their friends gave up along the road, can lead some to evaluate any or every facet of religious life in terms of what they can get materially from the community--instead of what they can give to the community. Every formation community fairly exudes the idea that there are those already in the community (i,e., they own the house, the bedsheets and the marmalade), and those who wish to join the community. This is a classic "donor-receiver" situation. Usually it takes years for a religious to believe that the house and community pos-sessions are not "theirs" but "ours." In a developing-country situation this "donor-receiver" mentality can persist far longer when the professed religious are white and those joining the community are black. Obviously, religious life means old and young, black and white--or ~,hatever other contrasts a person cares to make between people--all attempting to live in harmony together. This is our" witness of the kingdom and the means by which we build up the Church. For that to happen, there has to be a basic leveling among the members of the community. Formators need to devise ways in which local religious can "own," not only the community goods, but the core values at the heart of the community. Prayer Appropriate Formation / 341 . Much of religious formation, in the spiritual domain, is concerned with deepening a person's,capacity for, and appreciation of, a "grace-full" rela-tionship with Jesus. This is a task for religious formators worldwide, but in my experience, .those working in countries with a strong animist tradi-tion have added challenges. The first one is helping young religious see that prayer, to be real; must be a constant part 6f a person's life. Just praying when the community decides to pray in common is not enough. When prayer is simply a duty expected of one by others, then the shallowness of a person's prayer~life will be revealed when serious vocational problems arise and a ~oung~reli-gious doesn't really believe that there is a God who is ready to love, under~ stand and forgive. In my experience of countries with a strong animist tra-dition, God is more than likely to be feared rather than loved, .and for-giveness is at a price. Coupled to the above challenge is that of helping local candidates real-ize that the form and structure of prayer are not ends in themselves. They are only aids to developing an'awareness of God in ~ne's life and in encour-aging prayerful living. The tendency in the animist tradition to overstress the ma,.gical nature of prayer can lead to a marked separation ~of the sacred and the secular, andah inability to make the "stuff Of daily living" the quarry for one's own prayer. A third challenge I believe formators can have is helping young reli-gious recognize that their own people's spiritual heritage can provide them with stepping stones to discover and value the face of God in Jesus. They will need a strong, personal faith to be able to discern authentically the pres- 6nee of God in their people's faith history, and a vision of the Church as embracing all peoples and cultures, as acknowledging and respecting the I,ocal character of each people. Service In many countries where the Church is newly rooted, much is made of a person's final profession or ordination--I suppose because local reli-gious and priests are still a rarity in many places. Sadly, perhaps, not a few young men and women leave the altar as newly professed or ordained with a very exalted view of themselves. They go on mission with a mentality, more suited to starting a career than a vocation. We need a model of the "servant" Church as never before in devel-oping countries. Otherwise the cr6"dibility and respect which the first mis-sionaries earned from the people will vanish. If there are not local men and women prepared to minister with total conviction and compassion to the marginalized of their society,, then things do not look well for the future. 349 / Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 I believe that there are people amongst those seeking to follow "the chaste, poor and obedient Christ" who have the dynamism and selflessness of those first missionaries. But they will need every encouragement and incen-tive to rise above merely identifying with the better educated and affluent members of their society. Appropriate format.ion will need to stress the distinction between a career and a vocation, and to present clearly and simpl~, the model of Jesus who had "nowhere to lay his head," who could welcome all and who was wholly caught up in doing the will of his Father. Conclusion Thi~ article has concerned itself with indicating dimensions of a for-mation program that must be appropriate to the persons it serves and to the so(iety in which such people will minister. I have pointgd out some of the priorities I feel that formators involved in develpping-church situations need to take note of and to put.on their formation agenda. To those who are skep-tical concerning the future of religious life in the. world today, let me end wiih a quote from Samuel Beckett: "He sat with me in the dark room of my doubt and lit a candle." During my five years of close involvement with religious forma_tion in West Africa, I have seen that candle glowing, and my hope is that religious throughout the world will, like me, grow in certainty by its light. From Tablet to Heart: Internalizing New Constitutions land II by Patricia Spillane, M.S.C. Price: $1.25 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. Growth Producing Tensions in Pre-Novitiate Formation Donna Marie Wilhelm, S.N.D. Since writing this article, Sister Donna Marie has been transferred to Sarasota's Cardi-nal Mooney High School where she now teaches and is local superior. She may be addressed at 4004 Fruitville Road; Sarasota, Florida 33582. Liberal, conservative; masculine, feminine; introvert, extrovert; Ignatian, Franciscan; adjectives--"labels" that describe experience, that are valu-able as long as they do not become restrictive in their attempt to'describe, as long as they do not bind rather than free us for growth and understand-ing. These labels are set up in tension as opposites, or perhaps better as complements. Their value is not so much in setting persons in opposition to one another, but in directing them to wholeness of vision. They provide for an expression of tension that can lead to healthy growth and a more com-plete outlook on life and experience. I believe that formation, too, is about tension--healthy tension--that is inherent in the process itself. Tensions exist throughout the period of initial formation with varying emphases and with differing intensities. This is particularly true in the pre-novitiate period. One of the dangers in the beginning of the formation process is that some individuals, once they begin to live in a community setting, may live out of a sense of finality that says, "I have made my decision. This is where God wants me. Just tell me what to do in order to be a good Sister of Notre Dame (or Franciscan or whatever) and I will do it." A stance like this needs to be explored gently, and then laid to rest as a false and harmful presupposi-tion. 343 344 / Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 I believe that it is more accurate to define vocation as a verb rather than a noun, as E.F. O'Doherty has suggested in The Psychology of Vocation. A vocation is not something that I "have"; it is a possibility for me to "become." Implied in this kind of definition is the reality that following a particular vocation involves a repeated act of choosing. In the initial stages it involves decision-making that then becomes the raw material for an ongoing discernment process. For the remainder of this article I want to describe three of the tensions that I think are common to those who are new to the religious process: those in pre-novitiate. Since formation does not happen in a vacuum but in the context of community, community members and attitudes among members are very important in helping the individuals in formation to negotiate these tensions successfully. Child/Adult. Jean Vanier has said, "When people come into a community they are usually in a state where you can ask anything at all of them . People coming into community have a child's grace.''1 This stateof becoming "like a child" again i~ a result of a variety of factors: the initial joy and enthusiasm of any beginner; the "rush" that comes with "finally arriv-ing"; but perhaps most importantly there is a tremendous loss of the famil-iar for the newcomer. o Ray B(adbury in his book Dandelion Wine tells a story that points to the importance of the familiar, of the everyday. It is a story of two y, oung boys and their summer discoveries through everydayness. Doug, the older boy, decides to keep a record bf the summer's adventures in a yellow nickel tablet. In explaining his plan to his brother Tom, Doug begins: I'm going to divide the su.mmer up in two parts. First part of this tablet is titled: Rites and Ceremonies. The first root beer pop of the year. The first time of the year running barefoot in the grass. First time of the year almOst drowning in the lake. First watermelon. First mosquito. First har-vest of dandelions. Those are the things we do over and over and over and never think. Now here in the back, like I said, is Discoveries and Revelations or maybe Illuminations, that's a swell word, or Intuitions, okay? 'in other words you do an o!d familiar thing, like bottling dandelion wine and" you put that under Rites and Ceremonies. And then you think about it, and what you thinkr crazy or not, you put under Discoveries and Revelatiohs. Here's wha~ I got on the wine: Every time you bottle it, yo~u got .a whole chunk of 1928 put away, safe.2 Wh~t Bradbury recounts is in many ways similar t~ the dynamic of the familiar in our lives, the movement from the experience of the world.,gs Tensions in Pre-Novitiate Formation / 345 alien, through a sense of well-being, to an awakening to "otherness." Our first experience as children, or later in life as beginners in a religious for-mation process, is one of awe, dread, an overwhelming helplessness and powerlessness. As children, this sense of, anxiety is usually answered by our parents who provide a caring atmosphere in which we can experience some security. We need this sense of security and familiarity with persons, things and event~ in order to function in this world. This movement from helplessness'and powerlessness to security and familiarity is a "child to adult" movement. Being "at home" in our world is also essential to our spirituality. We need to be grounded in the familiar and the ordinary, since it is that grounding that gi'ves us a feeling of belonging, at homeness, security. And these experiences point to a deeper ground, ou~ groundedness in God in faith, hrpe and love. Our faith in God must be incarnated in our experience, and this happens as we reflect 6n the everyday occurrences where God touches our lives. If what is familiar and "everyday" in our lives is so important to our adulthood, to our functioning and to our grounding in God, then losing our"' sense of "at homeness" in our day-to-day living is a significant loss. It is this loss that brings us back to being like a child again, a child in an alien world. What takes place at the onset of the pre-novitiate is e~actly that: the loss of the familiar. "Familiar" in this context may mean different things for different individuals but for most it includes job, apartment, car, friends and family and a certain degree of indepepdence ih action and in decision-making. Loss of the familiar is often accompanied by a feeling that "I'm out of control," a feeling of helplessness in my new environment. In many candidates this is expressed by a loss of ability to do something as simple as balancing time, and that results in lost hours of sleep, cutting down on leisure and exercise to make up, loss of efficienqy on the job, in ministry or at school. Moving into a new place with new people requires a tremendous adjust-ment. It involves~a period of trying to determine what "the rules" are in this group .with whom I have chosen to live. It is a time of grieving for many losses. And it is a time that is often ac~companied by regression, the return to patterns of behavior that helped us to cope with an alien world when we were children. One of the problems in c?mmunity is that this regressive behavior can be very disconcerting to the "old-timers" unless they are aware of what is happening. It is a crucial period when the com-munity must offer support and understanding, but must carefully guard against giving a formula for a new identity too soon. As in any loss, the loss of what is familiar can break the newcomer open to another necessary 346 / Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 element of life,- the transcendent. The pain of this experience can be an invitation to the candidate to begin the process of lived discernment, of choosing his or her vocation in day-to-day life. A further difficulty.in community can occur if the purpose of this time of formation is not well understood. The heart of the pre-novitiate is built on the call to holiness that all Christians share. That call must be explored and deepened through gradual growth in self-awareness and developing nat~ ural gifts, in dealing with past losses and hurts, in deepening prayer and in learning the dynamics of community living. "Our candidates are older women," some community members say, "women with education, with work and life experience. Why do they need to spend a year or two in a pre-noyitiate process?" It is a very common mistake to look at a person's age, work experience, social skills and make a statement like "Why can't she just begin as a novice?" It is so important not to equate age absolutely with any given level of human maturity, of experience, of spiritual or pro-fessional development. Accompanying women, especially older ones has ¯ only confirmed my belief that each individual is composed of many com-plex variables, and the time spent at the beginning of the formation pro-cess is not "lost" but is essential to provide a confirmation of gifts, an accurate assessment of needs and limitations, and then time to allow the individual to begin to build a foundation for continuing discernment for the future. This is the purpose of the pre-novitiate as it is described in Essen-tial Eletnents. It is the period "in which the genuineness of the call is iden-tified as far as possible . -3 It is a time of growth, not stagnation. Being In/Being Out Another significant area of tension for those in the pre-novitiate pro-cess is the tension that is created by not being a "real" member of the congregation, by hot even, strictly speaking, being a "religious," while living in a house of the congregation with its real members, more or less according to their manner of life. One of the major emphases in the doc-uments dealing with formation that have been published since Vatican Coun-cil II is that of the concept of gradual transition, that is, the idea that the mok, ement from the previous lifestyle to the life of religious consecration should be a gradual, not an abrupt one, and that it involve a time of transi-tion rather than of drastic or dramatic change. Congregations have made many and varied efforts in this diri~ction. They have developed vocation-awareness activities that reach into the elementary schools, retreats and overnight experiences for high school stu-dents, and live-in programs for those who hre seriously considering the option of religious life.-'Many congregations have begun nonresident affil- Tensions in Pre-Novitiate Formation 347 iate programs to give interested men or women an even closer experience of their life. These efforts are all for the sake of gradual acquaintance and transi-tion, find they are invaluable. They need to be carried into the period of pre-novitiate as well. One way to accomPlish this is to establish the pre-novitiate community as an "in-between" community as Vanier cails it in his book Community and Growth. IdeallY this community will be com-posed of the candidates, the director ahd several oth,er professed members who represent different mir~istries. I am not speaking here of simply moving the candidates and director into an established local community-- even though in fact this is what may happen. The difference is that the pri-mary purpose for the existence of the "in-between" community is to pro-vide a formative environment for the candidates. Such a community pro-vides an environment which facilitates the transition of the individual from being an independent lay man or woman to being incorporated as a com-munity member, and finally to becoming a committed member of this specific community and congregation~. It must, be an environment that encourages reflective living, where acceptance is~not based on conformity. What is of primary significance at this stage is to foster human growth and a sense of responsibility towards the life, not to provide a cozy escape from decision-making or a neat set of dos and don'ts. Such a community will provide a rhythm of life that is the "bare bones" for continued discernment; a rhythm of reflection, silence and prayer. It must give the time for candidates to participate in courses or group direction that con-tinue, to develop knowledge of the faith and of the spiritual life. Finally it will provide opportunities for some type of initial exposure to the ministries of the congregation and for some connectedness with the local Church. The individual who +omes to a pre-novitiate experience has made a definite decision and commitment, and so has the congregation ~vhich he or she has joined. Being "in-b~tween" does not water down that commit-ment or mitigate the decision. Rather it gives the space f~)r the candidate" to do two very important things: t~) learn hoW to live in community arid to adjust significant relationships to his or her new lifestyle. These issues are important ones in becoming a member of any community, not just a religious congregation. Outlining the elements in "learning" community is simple. Living them is a tremendous challenge. At the very beginning, a knowledge of the stages in the growth Of a community is essential, as is an awareness of some basic dynamics that can occur. I have found the material provided 3till / Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 by Hammet and Soefield in their book Inside Christian Community extremely helpful in these areas. Communication and dealingwith conflict are two other key issues. I believe that the most difficult of any of these is conflict management. This is true not only for the newcomer, but for most of us who have lived in religious communities for years. Each time I am involved in a workshop on this topic with our candidates I am aware of how much more I must learn. It is so iinportant to be patient, firm, and to provide supportive gui.d:~ ance in this area. Above all, experienced community members must not fall into the trap of becoming the rescuer between two candidates or a can-didate and another community member who may have taken on the roles of victim ancl persecutor in regard to each other. Being willing to sit down and role-play situations or conversations is a valuable tool here. In sum, the skills of conflict management must be practiced, our limitations and weakness shared, if growth is to occur. ~ The "in-between" climate of the pre-novitiate community also pro-vides the space necessary for the candidates to adjust significant relation-ships in their lives. This is particularly important for candidates who come with a broad base of family, friends and work-related contacts. It takes time and the freedom to move in and out of community to make the decisions necessary to maintain some relationships, to let go of others', and to invest in new ones within the community or in a ministerial setting. This is no small task because it involves community members who can allow for free-dom but also who, through modeling and guidance, can gradually intro-duce the candidates into the obligations and time commitments that com-munity life can and must of its very nature demand. Providing opportunities for the community to get to know the family and friends of the candidate can be extremely helpful and enrichi.n.g for both. Visiting, inviting family members to share in celebrations, and other casual contacts are,just a few ways to do this. Again, grow,th must be suppprted by u,nderstanding, hon-esty, openness in dialogue, and willingness to search together for the best decisions. In these areas, too, we are dealing with choosing a lifestyle, with making decisions that are more and more--or less and less-~consonant with one particular life direction rather than another. Fitting In/Impacting For Change A newcomer to any group can be expected to ask the question, "What d6,.I have to do to fit in here, to be one of you?" He or she may also say "I have talents, gifts, a vision to offer that may call for some changes in our group. Will they be acce.pted?" The tension between the desire to "fit in" and the need to influence toward change is born in these questions. Tensions in Pre-Novitiate Formation / 349 There is, I believe, a very real sense in which a candidate in any religious congregation must "fit" if not "fit in." In an attempt to be "liberated" and "open" to everything, I think we sometimes try to deny the truth of that. Our congregations do .have living traditions, a heritage that must be experienced and to some extent learned. We each have a unique identity; whether we have articulated that or not, that is our founding gift, and it is that which mediates the Gospel to the members of our institute. The for-mation process takes place according to this founding gift.4 The community at large is very important in this aspect of the process. The Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults in number four states: "The initia-tion of catechumens takes place, step by step, in the midst of the com-munity of the faithful. Together with the catechumens, the faithful reflect upon the value of the Paschal Mystery, renew their own conversion, and by their example lead the catechumens to obey the Holy Spirit more gener-ously." Since the call to religious consecration is a call to the deepening of one's baptismal consecration, an analogy can be drawn between the pre-novitiate and the catechumenate, between the involvement of the faithful and the indispensable involvement of the religious community in which the candidates seek membership. Members of religious communities see in their initiates not only a renewal of their individual covenant relationship with the Lord, but also the hopeof the continued life of the congregation. Rejoicing in and affirming new members in their call is essential. It draws the candidates into a large~',.sense of belonging, gives them a sense of his-tory and furnishes them with many more individual touchstones of unique charism, as well as an experience of charism in the corporate sense. For those who are already part of the community at large there is not only the opportunity but the responsibility to participate in "handing on" the congregation's traditions, and of being a "welcoming presence." "Welcoming presence" says, "this is how we are." At times of celebra-tion, community prayer and working together, it is a presence that says, "This is the diversity of ways in which we express our common charism. For us, Sisters of Notre Dame, our charism includes a simplicity of life and an experience of the Father's provident care in our lives that is expressed in the phrase 'How good is the good God!'. These elements of our shared vision are concretized in a special family spirit, and in our efforts to min-ister to the poor, to bring hope to them through evangelization and catechesis. You are welcome to be with us and to bring your uniqueness to our vision." 350 / Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 Once again it is absolutely necessary, though, that the "welcoming" not become a welcome that demands immediate conformity. The com-munity must understand the "in-between" nature of pre-novitiate and the primacy during this time of confirming the choice of this particular lifestyle within the basic call to holiness. "Welcoming" also includes welcoming gifts and initiative. When I enter into a relationship with hnother, I invite the possibility of being changed by that encounter. I trust that the new vision that we come to share together is good and growth producing. This is true of the new members in community. "Candidate" is not necessarily equal to "'young" and "inexperienced." We need to remind ourselves of that at times, and let our welcome include the invitation to enter into our life in a meaningful and effective way. 'Practically, this means including our candidates in tl~6 significant events of our community: meetings, renewals, ;'futuring" ses-sions, preparations for chapter and the like. It means valuing their gifts and expertise, and accepting these when they are offered in service of the com-munity and of the Church. These men and women of today can help us in our struggle to find ways to incarnate our charism into our life and ministry and to meet the needs of our times in a realistic way~ There is a very healthy discomfort that we experience when we feel pulled in two directions, a discomfort that moves us to action, to choice. The tensions experienced by newcomers to religious life are opportunities for self-awareness, for growth and for authentic discernment of a lifetime commitment. Being aware that they exist, dealing with them in realistic ways and' soliciting the understanding and support of community members in helping candidates to live and grow with them can only be an invalu-able asset to any formation process. .~ . NOTES ~ Jean Vanier, Community and Growth: Our Pilgrimage Together (New York: Paulist Press, 1979), p. 5 I. 2 Ray Bradbury, Dandelion Wine (New York: Bantam Books, 1976), p. 27. 3 Essential Elements in the Church's Teaching on Religious Ltfe, n. 48. 4 lbid, n. 44. Beyond Frontiers: The Supranational Challenge of the Gospel Gerald A. Arbuckle, S.M. Well known to our readers, Father Arbuckle is the prime mover and designer of the summer workshop, sponsored Dy R~viEw Eon R~L~¢~OUS and St. Louis University's Department of Theological Studies, entitled: "Refounding Religious Life from Within: Strategies for Leadership." His previous article, "Mythology, Revitalization and the Refounding of Religious Life," appeared in the issue of January/February, 1987. Father Arbuckle's.permanent mailing address is: East Asian Pastoral Institute; P.O. Box 1815; Manila 2800; Philippines. Supra-nationalism is the ability and the willingness of individuals or groups to strive to id.entify with cultures and needs beyond the frontiers of their own country in ways that are both critical and non-exclusive. (Multiculturalism, on the other hand, is the same ability and willingness, but directed to other cultures within the boundaries of one's own country.) This identification with cultures, be it noted, is not blind or uncritical. The weaknesses, as well as the strengths, of cultures are recognized. Moreover, this identification is not exclusive. That is, supranationalists are open to still other cultures beyond those with which they are immediately con-cerned. Christ calls his followers to a basic supranationalism, They are them-selves to be reconciled with the Father through love, and they are to express this reconciliation in their relations with other peoples and cultures. With-out, this love of the Father, a gift of the Holy Spirit, the reconciling rela-tionship with those around us cannot be sustained. Selfishness and the desire for power over others will overcome us. Ultimately we are encour-aged in this struggle to be reconciled wi(h the Father and with one another 351 352 / Review for Religious, May~June, 1987 by the hope of the "new heavens arid a new earth" in the fullness of God's kingdom yet to come, "where; accordihg t6 his promise, the justice of God will reside" (2 P 3:13). " The world is fractured by ideological conflicts, pathoio~ical forms of nationalism and intercultural tensions. It is a world "groaning in travail" (Rm 8:22), desperately in need of reconciliation across and within national frontiers. ~ Inasmuch as many religious orders are stamped with an interna-tional character, the Church rightly expects of them bold evangelical initiatives in response to today's critical need for supranationalism.2 But are religious orders responding to this challenge to provide lead-ership not just to the Church but also to the world itself?. Or have some congregations settled into a comfortable, introverted type of "ecclesiastical nationalism"? What conditions are necessary for religious congregations to express in spirit and action a much-needed supranationalism? This article is an attempt to respond to such questions. I will - show how prejudice obstructs sup.ranationalism; - explain the New Testament call to supranationalism; - reflect on how religious orders have in the past responded to the challenge of supranationalism; - construct two models which religious institutes can use to mea-sure their own response to the challenge of supranationalism; - reflect on the role of ongoing conversion as an essential require-ment for supranationalism. Excessive Nationalism: the Obstacle to Supranationalism Nationalism is a complex word to define. It expresses a form of group consciousness, that is, consciousness of membership in a nation. In this lim-ited sense, nationalism is good. It gives people a sense of meaning and iden-tity, a respect for their past, the energy to work together for the common good. When, however, people begin to believe that they are superior to other peoples and cultures, then nationalism becomes excessive. People become unable to look beyond (supra) their national borders to learn from the values and experiences of other cultures. At the heart of excessive nationalism is cultural prejudice. Prejudice is an "attitude towards a person who belongs to a group simply because he belongs to that group and is therefore presumed to have the qualities ascribed to that group." 3 In brief, prejudice involves a predisposition toward a group of people that is not derived from adequate information. There are two aspects to cultural prejudice to be noted. Firstly, there is the meaning aspect or stereotype. A stereotype is ,a preformed image or picture or judgment about people, whether favorable or unfavorable: "The Beyond Frontiers / 353 Irish are prone to excessive use of alcohol." "All Italians sing beau-tifully." The second aspect is the feeling dimension. The prejudiced person sees only what he or she wants to see, even to the point of seeing things that are not there at all. The causes of prejudice are complex and many: fear of people who are different, a desire to exploit, a need to bolster one's personal and cultural self-esteem .4 Culturally prejudiced people can show excessive nationalism in one of two major ways. Firstly, they can seek to impose on "decadent and imper-fect cultures" their own "perfect" values and customs, coming to treat subject people like children---or worse. Secondly, a particularly insidious form of cultural prejudice is cultural romanticism. The foreign culture with which the individual wishes to identify is considered "perfect," and his or her culture-of-origin is thought to be thoroughly decadent. Often the romantic will seek to freeze the new culture in time, thinking any change will undermine its "perfection." This type of romanticism is alive and well, especially among foreigners working in Third World countries. Romanticism is also apt to show itself in overidentifying with nation-alist movements in those cultures or nations. Here, would-be agenis for change sometimes lose all sense of objectivity; they fail to see the violence and tragic effects of their overinvolvement in nationalist movements. Some-times more nationalistic than the locals themselves, they become severely condemnatory of the values and customs of their own cultures-of-origin.5 It is not easy for a person to become truly supranationalist. Supranationalism can only result from the ongoing personal struggle for truth and for the desire to respond to this truth. First one must face the truth about oneself: we are all prejudiced in one way or another. Self-knowledge is always extremely difficult. It also happens to be highly inconvenient, because as a result of a better knowledge of myself and my prejudices, I may have to do something about it. Human beings are highly skilled in avoiding truths about themselves; we are accomplished fugitives from our-selves. If I have the courage to discover my cultural prejudices, I then need a strong motivation to put them aside. It is much easier and simpler to ignore my prejudices! Supranationalism and the New Testament The heart of the Christian .message is that God "has reconciled us to himself through Christ" (2 Co 5:18) and his peace, a peace that can never come from mere human action (Jn 15:27), that we struggle to share with our brothers and sisters no matter what culture or nation they belong to (Rm :354 / Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 12:18). This peace, the fruit of love in the Spirit, motivates us to respect cultural differences and the just aspirations of people; it shows itself in "patience, generosity., mildness" (Ga 5:22f). It includes an openness to learn how God has worked in the lives and cultures of other peoples. There will be no jealousy for their achievements nor will there be a boast-ing over the accomplishments of one's own nation or culture (ibid v. 26). There will be ~he courage to challenge people of different cultures to face obstacles, for example, personal and social sin, that hinder or prevent them from achieving reconciliation with God and with each other. Followers of Christ know that they can avoid excessive nationalism in its various forms only if they remain truly open to the .Transcendent, allowing it to influence their lives in each one's particular cultural situation, even as they await the fullness of justice and peace ~n the world to come. Not surprisingly, Jesus directly confronted the excessive nationalism of his day, urging his followers to be supranationalists. At the time of Christ, Jews looked on Samaritans as uncouth, stupid, heretical. And Samaritans had similar views of their Jewish neighbors. As Scripture com-mentator, J. McKenzie, points out: "There was no deeper break 6f human relations in the contemporary world than the feud of Jews and Samaritans, and the breadth and depth of J~sus' doctrine of love could demand no greater act of a Jew than to accept a Samaritan as a brother."6 Those who heard Jesus speak would have been left in no doubt about the meaning of what we now call the Good Samaritan incident. The Samaritan is manifestly a supranationalist! Jesus' listeners are stunned to heai- him say "Go, do likewise!" (Lk 10:37). In a second story, this time a personal event in Christ's life, Jesus is an "international traveler" and exemplifies his own supranationalism in his relations with the Samaritan woman at the well (Jn 4). Not only does the woman experience Christian politeness for the first time, but she is told that eternal salvation is open to her through the love of the Father. Of all the early followers of Christ, Paul stands out as the model of supranationalism in evangelization. He had been a thoroughly fanatical sup-porter of Jewish culture, a rabid nationa~list, but underwent a dramatic theological and attitudinal transformation once he began to preach the Gospel in Gentile cultures. In Paul's epistles we see depicted the attitudes that must govern the evangelizeras he or she relates to different cultures. Firstly, the evangelizer must identi.fy as far as possible with the cultures of people to be e.vangelized: "I became like a Jew to the Jews in order to win the Jews. To those bound by the law I became like one who is bound (although in Beyond Frontiers / 355 fact Iam not bound by it), that I might win those bound by the law . I have made myself all things to all men in order to save at least some of them" (1 Co 9:20, 22). Secondly, identification with the aspirations of peo-pies of different cultures should be critical (Ga 5:1-6). Thirdly, the Gospel message is to be preached in its fullness; our struggles for justice and peace in this world are but the seed and the beginning of the kingdom of God here below; it will find its completion at the end of time with the resurrection of the dead and the renewal of the whole of creation (Rm 8:1 1- 21).7 Religious Life: Internationalism and Supranationalism .~ On one occasion, while doing research in a Third World village, I over-heard villagers speaking about the "Backhome Man." Each time they used the expression there would be hoots of laughter. I discovered the man who delighted them was an evangelizer from another coun.try who began sentences with the expression "Back home . . ." so often that the people nicknamed him the "Backhome Man." The evangelizer had the gift of internationalism, that is, he was prepared to live in someone else's coun-try, b.ut apparently he was slow to learn anything from the host culture. He lacked the gift of supranationalism; he was willing to give (on his terms), but not to receive. Our "Backhome Man" sadly lived a stunted religious life as well. For the true religious dedicates himself or herself totally to God, the Supreme Love. In a new and special way the religious makes himself or herself entirely over to God, to serve and honor him in and through the Church.8 The religious should seek to be an exemplary disciple of the Lord, to be one with him in his mission to the world.,The object of his. mission is the person "whole and entire, body and soul,',9 involving what we call today integral salvation. Supranationalism (and mu!ticuituralism) opens the way to this concern, for it relates to the well-being of both body and soul of the peoples of this world in their concrete reality. For this reason, because of their radical commitment to the Lord and to his Church, religious must be in the forefront in fosteringthe virtues of human solidarity and interdependence. Two questions are~to be asked: have religious congregations in the past fostered supranationalism? How are they responding to this challenge today? I will take each question in turn. Religious Life and Supranationalism before Vatican II There is no doubt about the involvement of religious congregations in internationalism over the three hundred years prior to Vatican II. Religious, 356 / Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 very often from newly formed congregations, moved into recently discov-ered countries, frequently braving, atrocious physical conditions, in order to spread the faith.~ While many individual religious aspired to identify with the cultures of the people they were evangelizing, rarely was the work of religious congregations themselves marked by the spirit of supranationalism within those countries which we now call the Third World. At the risk of grave oversimplification I will explain briefly why it was difficult for religious to express supranationalism, in evangelization. ~0 From the fifteenth century onwards, a marked inflexibility in the Church's rela-tionship with cultures, especially beyond Europe, developed. This inflexibility affected the missionary policies of religious Congregations. Prior to this period, most especially in the early centuries,o.the Church often related to cultures in remarkably flexible ways. Pope Gregory the Great's directive to Augustine of Canterbury 'in the year 601 about not destroying the temples of the gods, and,the need to place the relics of the saints in those same temples is rather symbolic of the flexibility of the period. ~ This openness, however, was not to continue; The Church became more and more culturally "Euro-centric" in its expression of the faith. In more modern times, as European colonial expansion developed, it was this Euro-centric Church that was to accompany it. As one commentator put it: "The missionaries--true children of their times--shared the intolerant and prejudiced views of the conquistadores on the native cultures and religions.''~2 The European Ch~'ch was to be planted in the new lands with-out change. The cultures of the people being evangelized were seen as unim-portant; priority was given to the conversion and salvation of individual souls: Rarely did missionaries see the need to understand local cultures-- or even at times to learn the local languages.13 There were vigorous, but eventually unsuccessful, reactions against this arrogant ecclesiastical/colonial European nationalism. From the Con-gregation of the Propagation of the Faith in 1622 there came a very force-ful condemnation of cultural prejudice: What could be more absurd than to carry France, Spain, or lt~l~,, or any other part of Europe into China? It is not this sort of thing you are to bring but rather the Faith, which does not reject or damage any people's rites and customs provided' they are not depraved . Let customs that prove to be depraved be uprooted more by hints and by silence., gradually without jolting. 14 People like the Capuchin Father Jerom Meroila in the Congo in the sev-enteenth century ~eriously endeavored to follow this advice. ~5 Jesuits in par-ticular, notably de Nobili and Ricci, led the movement for accommoda- Beyond Frontiers / 357 tion and adaptation with a flexibility characteristic of the early Church. 16 Tragically, these efforts to revitalize supranationalism within the Church were crushed with the rejection of the work of Ricci and his companions in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. In the late nineteenth century the revival of Thomistic Aristotelianism, which encouraged people to look for what is good and of God within cul-tures, sparked off a new movement that would many decades later lead to the return of the Churcl~'s early pastoral flexibility. Euro-centric prejudice in evangelizers was condemned. 17 At the same time there developed within the Church a vigorous support for the rights of all people in regard to their culture and national identity. ~8 But it would take a long time before the pas-toral implications of these emphases would be worked out. Many evangelizers yearned to revive the apostolic approach of people like Ricci, but multiple factors made it difficult for these dreams to be realized. Thus, for instance, as long as the theQlogy of the local church remained under-developed, it would be difficult to explore fully the pastoral implications of the relationship of evangelization to culture. Terms like "accommoda-tion" or "adaptation" became common in missiology. But theologically and pastorally they connoted not an exchange between the Gospel and cul-tures, but rather a process of.choosing what local value or custom could be used to express better the meaning of the faith. The local faithful, how-ever, were not to be involved in t.his process of choice. So, while the rhetoric favored flexibility, in practice the Church remained fundamentally Euro-centric in its evangelizing aims and methods. Understandably, religious life mirrored this ongoing European empha-sis. 19 This was evident in the rigidity with which Europ.ean forms and struc-tures of religious life were uncritically exposed and planted in other cul-tures. At times local vocations were not encouraged because it was thought the people were "just not ready and mature enough" to undertake the responsibilities of religious life. Moreover, the fact that Europe and America had what was thought to be an endless supply of missionary vocations removed.a good ideal of the urgency to discover what were the practical implications of the phrase "accommodating the faith to local cul-tures~" Religious congregations continued to become dramatically international, but rarely did they become supra-national. At times the internal structuring or method of governing missionary ven~ tures further reinforced the spirit and practice of the European colonialism. For example, some congregations favored the system of attaching mission-ary endeavors directly to particular provinces in Europe and America. Invari-ably, this meant that French missionaries were isolated in one part of a Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 "mission" land, Americans in another, and so on. Hence, a "little France" or a "little America" could exist in Third World countries, with no outside challenge to such assumptions of cultural superiority. In view of all these forces, therefore, it is not surprising that indigenous forms of religious life have rarely developed in the Third World; the mode.Is remain overwhelmingly First World in design.2° Reiigious Life and Supranationalism after Vatican II With Vatican II, and with subsequent reflection, religious life has been challenged to'its very roots by a revitalized theology of evangelization and of the local church. The relationship that should e~ist between the Gospel and cultures has been clarified. Evangelization is to be a "living exchange between the Church and the diverse cultures of people:''2t The Church, which ~s itself a culture, must be prepared, to chahge and develop new insights into how the Gospel is to be preached through a process of exchange and dialogue with the people being evangelized. This exchange process is what is now called inculturation. The expressions accommodation and adaptation do not quite convey this emphasis on exchange. Rather they imply that the Church gives to cul-tures, but does not receive. As historical expressions they were found to be dated; hence, the new word inculturation was developed in order to high-light the importance of exchange.2z Evangelization is not to be directed to the soul alone, but to the person--"whole and entire, body and soul.''23 "What mhtters," declares Paul VI, "is to evangelize man's culture and cultures [not in a purely decorative way, as it were, by applying a thin veneer, but in a vital way, in depth and right to their very roots].''z4 The search for justice in this world is not something secondary to evangelization, but it is a constituent part of the mission of the Church.25 However, as was pointed out above, the Gospel, and therefore evangelization, can never be exclusively identified with this or that culture, or with the pursuit of justice in this world alone. Evangelization must include the "prophetic proclamation of a hereafter, man's profound and definitive calling, in both continuity and discontinuity with the present sit-uation: beyond time and history, beyond the transient reality of this world ¯ . . beyond man himself, whose true destiny is not restricted to his tem-poral aspect but will be revealed in the future life.''26 In brief, evangelization must call people to a life of evangelical supranationalism. These emphases have serious ramifications for the religious who is an evangelizer. The evangelizer's task is to facilitate the dialogue between cul-ture and the Gospel. The religious must prophetically call people to this dialogue first, by the witness of his or her evangelical example, and then, Beyond Frontiers / 359 by the preaching of the Word of God. The dialogue to be aimed at is not merely intellectual. Rather it must be a faith interaction in which people are invited to interior conversion. To quote Paul VI again: "The Church evangelizes when she seeks to convert, solely through ttie divine power of the Message she proclaims, both the personal and collective consciences of people, the activities in which they engage, and the lives and concrete milieus which are theirs."zv Conversion is not brought about through author-itarian dictation, nor is it achieved through various forms of cultural romanticism. The religious, who in his orher zeal for :social justice overidentifies with nationalism or the protest movements of people against oppression cannot prophetically proclaim that "man's profound and definitive calling . . . [is] beyond time and history, beyond the transient reality of this world." Such a religious falls victim to the insidious power of cultural romanticism. Especially in parts of the Third World in which there is so much oppres-sion by the rich over the poor, massive injustices and corruption, the con-cerned religious is severely tempted to fall into a form of romanticism. Paulo Freire, the brilliant South American educator., has warned people to avoid the trap of romanticism. In order to remain objective and helpful to the oppressed, those who would be change-agents must, he says, undergo a profound rebirth. They must rise above the desire to overcome oppressors through the use of the same force that they used to subjugate the poor.28 The evangelizer, too, must at all times maintain the objectivity that is necessary to proclaim the fullness of the Gospel message with its power for salvation. St. Paul reminds us: "It was for liberty that Christ freed us. So stand firm, and do not take on.yourselves the yoke of slavery a second time" (Ga. 5:1). If the temptation in the past was for evangelizers to fall into the trap of Euro-centric cultural evangelization, then today's special temptation is to become slaves for "a second time" through cultural romanticism. Both forms of slavery obstruct our prophetic freedom. Religious specially should commit themselves to fulfill St. Paul's call for Christians to be ambassadors of reconciliation (2 Co 5:20). If religious overidentify with political parties, pressure groups or nationalist move-ments in the name for social justice, they jeopardize their prophetic role as reconcilers in Christ of all peoples--the oppressed and the oppressors. The chance to witness to the transcendent love of the Father for all is in danger. For example, if I as a religious join a political party, I become inevitably cut off in various ways from other sectors of society I seek to evangelize. I cease to be free to act credibly as an ambassador of reconcil-iation between all groups within that society. This fact helps to explain 360 / Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 John Paul II's insistence that politics should normally be left to lay people. In his address to priests in San Salvador (March 6, 1983) he said: "Remem-ber, my dear brothers, that--as I said to the priests and religious in Mexico~you~are hOtsocial directors, political leaders, or officials of a tem-poral power . " Religious are rather to foster among the laity a com-mitment to witness to the Gospel in the secular world as directors, leaders and officials. Though excessive nationalism is much less a temptation to evangelizers in the First World than in the Third, nonetheless these can still easily fall into other forms of cultural romanticism. For example, religious may become so involved in maintenance work in dioceses that they forget their prophetic and innovative role. Or, in their zeal to solve social problems, religious may turn to secular methods and values alone, ignoring or downgrading the supernational importance. We come to the second question: Are religious congregations respond-ing to the challenge given them by the Church today? Only through a process of discernment and reflection can each congre-gation. respond to this question. However, in order to aid this process I will offer two extreme polar models of religious congregations. These models can help religious to measure their own behavior and that of their institutes. It would be rare indeed if any particular congregation perfectly fitte~l either of ,the models described. Models in anthropological analysis are simple, abstract representations of human~' experience and interactions which are often highly complex in real life. Models are constructed~ to he!p under-standing, and to do so they emphasize major themes or characteristics and overlook details. It is up to the reader or researcher to modify, refine-~or even reject--models in light of his or her experience. Model 1: Internationalism/Faint Supranationalism ~ Anthropologists have discovered a type of society that is organized on the basis of segmentation.29 The society is divided up into segments for a variety of reasons, but these segments are not permanently divided, since they are united at other levels to form new and more inclusive segments when certain common needs require this. Total unity is very fragile and, like all levels of unity at any stage in the society, it disintegrates once the reason for the unity disappears. In brief, there are factors within the soci-ety that encourage people to form opposing groups, but there are counterbalancing factors that draw people in these groups together at other levels. Suspicion or potential/actual conflict or feuds divide the segments Beyond Frontiers / 361 Figure 1 Model I. Internationalism/Faint Supranationalism Factors Conducive to Internationalism/Supranationalism Constitutions/Mission Statements: -rhetoric favors supranationalism Commitment to supranationalism: -Weak in congregation Factors Conducive to Provincialism/Segmentation Commitment to provincial boundaries strong: Central Government: General Chapter: -symbol of unity; -rhetoric favors supranationalism General Government: -symbol of unity/internationalism -supplies bureaucratic needs, for example, dispensation --charism research Interprovincial-Regional Cooperation: -weak: last resort Apostolates: -in Third World for vocations/sur-vival. Formation: -international/interprovincial only in extreme need -inward looking vision -prophetic figures marginalized Provincial Government: -commitment to survival of prov-ince as the priority -suspicious of outside "interference," for example, General Government Apostolates: -Identification with diocesan main-tenance works -prophetic role weak -if clerical-religious, clericalism strong -weak involvement in multiculturalism Formation: -poor screening; concern for numbers -no training for multiculturalism/ supranationalism and are put aside only when common needs demand unity for survival. A feud can be defined as relations of mutual animosity among intimate groups in which a resort to violence is anticipated on both sides.3° The violence does not have to be physical; it can be verbal. Past injustices or misunderstandings are recalled to remind all concerned that the "out- 362 / Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 group" simply cannot be trusted to work with the "in-group." There may be an official leader in such a society, but the real power rests in the various segments, the lowest segment having the most power over its members. Oft-repeated rhetoric supportive of total unity is apt to so confuse the observer that it is thought that real unity exists, when, in fact, such is far from being the case. In Model ! of religious congregations that I am proposing the empha-sis is on internationalism, with a faint acceptance of supranationalism. A congregation of this type has the characteristics of the segmentary society or culture just described. In Figure 1, the major qualities of a segmentary congregation have been summarized. The official rhetoric is often power-fully supranationalist, as in general chapter documents or mission state-ments, but the ~-eality just as strongly contradicts this rhetoric. Internationalism exists inasmuch as some members live and work in for-eign lands, such as missionaries and general administrators. There may be a growing interest in the Third World countries inspired by the congrega-tion's rhetoric about the call to be at the service of the poor, but the really operative force would be the desire for vocations to keep the provinces and the congregation alive. The emphasis of recruitment is on numbers, not on the quality of the screening methods or the formation given. The formation remains culturally Euro-centric and paternal; the local cultures and their needs are ignored. Inculturation simply does not exist. Loyalty in the congregation imagined in this model is first and fore-most to the province to which one belongs, not to the congregation or its spirit.Whoever encourages congregational supranationalism would be thought a "traitor" to the province.3~ Cooperation exists between the prov-inces and with the general administration only when it is absolutely nec-essary- and even then fo~: the advantage primarily of the province. The gen-eral administration, for example, would be able to staff congregation-wide projects only through a process of bargaining, not dialogue. A province is prepared to release difficult personnel for such work, but not talented mem-bers, for the province's first obligation is to its own survival. "Talented people simply should not be released for work outside the province" is the overriding assumption. At international meetings of the congregation, pro-vinces look first to their own rights and their interests, not to those of the congregation. Suspicion and feud-like behavior colors the province's rela. tions with the general administration and with other provinces. Stories of past interference and misunderstandings on the part of general officers are gleefully recounted in order to maintain in the province a distrust of "out. siders." Beyond Frontiers" Apostolically, provinces in this model are strong supporters of main-tenance rather than of mission within the dioceses in which they work. A province takes its bearings all too exclusively from the internal ecclesiastical and socioeconomic structure of the countries where its apostolates are situated.32 There is little or no prophetic challenging of dioceses or diocesan administrations. Consequently, there is little room for other issues such as justice or multiculturalism/supranationalism. Individ-uals wh0do show interest are thought to be "somewhat odd," or follow-ing a "hobby," or just "wasting time." On the other hand, where involve-ment in the social apostolate is encouraged, its relationship with the Transcendent may be deliberately played down "lest one's identification with the Gospel hinder one's identification with those who struggle for social justice." In this model clericalism would be a dominant force in clerical insti-tutes. (Clericalism connotes "an authoritarian style of ministerial leader-ship, a rigidly hierarchical world view, and a virtual identification of the holiness and grace of the Church with the clerical state and, thereby, with the cleric himself.''33) Consequently, within community there would be little fraternity with lay members of the congregation who would be looked down upon as inferior and as "servants of the priests." Lay involvement in apostolic works of the congregation would be poorly encouraged. On the other hand, religious who might act against clericalism would overidentify with worldly values and with the customs of the ambient cul-ture on the pretext that this will "bring us closer to the people we are evangelizing." As regards the screening and formation of candidates, the approach in such a congregation would be colored by all the above characteristics. Can-didates would be encouraged to join the province if they are seen to have the qualities that would "fit them in" to the overriding inward-looking, weakly prophetic ethos of the province. Candidates would be jealously iso-lated from contact with those from other provinces lest they develop "dan-gerous ideas," supranationalism, or the feeling of belonging to a "con-gregation wider than the province." Formators of other provinces could not be trusted to direct the formation of candidates because they might decide that the latter have "no vocation to religious life." Hence, interprovincial and international formation programs would be severely discouraged. Model 2. Internationalism/Strong Supranationalism In Figure 2, I set out emphases that are seen in congregations which approximate the second model, Internationalism/Strong Supranationalism. 364 / Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 The members of such a religious congregation commit themselves primar-ily to the mission of Christ and the Church according to the insights of the founding figure. Administrative structures such as provinces exist to facil-itate the response of the congregation itself to the mission of Christ. The spiritual and human welfare of members of the congregation is considered of paramount imporiance. The congregation's administrators are alive to the ctiallenge given them by Paul VI that they take up the "double task of inspiring and innovating in order to make structures evolve, so as to adapt them to the real needs" of mission and personnel.34'Provinces relate to one another and to the general administration on the basis of their common mission and according to subsidiar{ty, dialogue and discernment. Apostolates are selected according to definite objective criteria: the pri-ority of needs in the universal Church and local churches, the mission of the Church, the charism of the congregation and the resources available. The congregation hesitates to accept parishes unless there is scope for mis-sionary and creative pastoral action. No matter what apostolate is selected, members of~ the congregation will attitudinally be influenced in all they do by the need to call the People of God to multiculturalism/supranationalism. Given the priority of needs internationally today, congregations may strive, where possib!e, to witness to supranationalism by establishing international teams. For these teams to be effective they need to fulfill various require-ments. Firstly, those selected must be capable of living internationally according to the principles of supranationalism. Not everyone has the abil-ity to live and work on an international team; there can be heavy d6mands on the psychological and spiritual resources of individuals as they are called to face up to the requirements of constant adaptation to new cultural con-ditions. Secondly, members of teams must be given the chance for adequate preparation spiritually and humanly in order that they can fit into challeng-ing international and intercultural situations. This means not only the acquisi-tion of linguistic skills, but also an awareness of key anthropological insights into the nature and power of culture, culture change, the role of catalysts in culture change, and so forth. In their training programs mem-bers will need to have adequate periods of living in cultures very different from their own. They will need to experience the shock of being "at sea" in a culture that is unfamiliar to them; they will need to discover for them-selves the richness of being humble and dependent on other people whose culture they do not know or understand. Their own cultural biases and preju-dices must be challenged, otherwise an insidious ethnocentrism will govern their relations with other team members and the peoplethey hope to serve Beyond Frontiers / 365 Figure 2 Model 2. Internationalism/Strong Supranationalism Loyalty: primarily to the Congregation which is at the service of the mission of Christ and Church. Apostolates: based on -priority of needs in universal Church (internationalism/supranationalism) and local churches (multiculturalism). -charism of congregation -available resources Administration: -at service of mission -provinces and general administration relate on basis of common mission/subsidiarity/ dialogue-discernment Formation: Initial: On _going. -based on mission/charism -emphasis on union with Christ for cre-ative response to demands of change. -training for internationalism/ multiculturalism/supr-anationalism -revitalization of commitment to: -Christ -Congregation -creativity/adapability in change pastorally. Thirdly, in the structuring of an international team, as far as is possi-ble no one culture should predominate. If one cultural group does predom-inate, it is likely to over-influence attitudes and policies of the group.35 If a culturally balanced team is not possible, the predominant cultural group must be especially sensitive to avoid obstructing the emergence of 366 / Review for Religious, May-~June, 1987 supranationalism in the team. From history, such international teams as I have described are apt to foster vigorous creativity pastorally and in religious life. As Raymond Hostie notes: Basic to all institutions that became remarkable for their explosive expan-sion is an initial heterogeneous core. Cistercians, Norbertines, Dominicans, Carmelites, Jesuits and Piarists, all emerged from groups whose members belonged to three nationalities, or even four or five. The initial group of Franciscans, CamillianS, Brothers of the Christian Schools and the Salesians was composed of men of very disparate social rank and cultural level. Heterogeneity is a necessary condition for activating effective fermentation.36 Initial formation in Model 2 is dictated by the demands of mission and the charism of the congregation. Hence, the programs are structured to foster in candidates a spirit of adaptability to constant change.37 Spiritual formation will be aimed at uncovering within candidates their own inner poverty and their ongoing need of strength from Christ: "He who loves his life loses it, and he who hates his life in this world will keep it for eter-nal life" (Jn 12:25). The process of initial formation is a delicate one requir-ing skilled people to accompany candidates through the journey of self-discovery. Though the formation program is spread over several years and may well involve experiences in different cultural situations, there will be formators to whom candidates are clearly accountabl~. In Model 2, forma-tion is not a haphazard arrangement. As with initial formation, the ongoing formation programs are structured on the basis of the needs of mission. Religious need oppor-tunities to revitalize their commitment to Christ and to their congregational charism. They need space to reflect on whether or not their commitment to multiculturalism/supranationalism is rhetoric or reality. Over time, reli-gious may have uncritically absorbed negative values from the culture in which they work; little by little their supranationalism and pastoral creativ-ity may have been undermined. In this model it is assumed that adminis-trative structures are so flexible that superiors are able to spot quickly the individual needs of evangelizers and offer appropriate assistance. This ser-vice to evangelizers is part of a much wider task of administrations, namely, the ongoing need to foster evaluation of the apostolic relevance and effectiveness of the teams. In this model apostolates aie hot permitted~ to drift without goals and without effective evaluations. Conversion to Supranationalism In J.R. Toikien's The Hobbit: Or There and Back Again, Bilbo Beyond Frontiers / 367 Baggins initially turns down an invitation to go on a journey. He is too com-f0rtable in his way of life to be bothered with the trials of an adventure. He finally accepts the challenge and even begins to enjoy it. The cultures and the people he meets both disturb and intrigue him. But he soon tires of the constant need to adapt to new challenges, so he turns for home and retreats from the world of adventure singing:."Feet that wandering have gone, Turn at last'to home afar. Eyes . . . Look at last on meadows green.-38 Most of us can identify with Bilbo. We commit ourselves to multiculturalism/supranationalism, that is to the preaching of God's love across the frontiers of cultures. Yet we are tempted at times to weaken our efforts, to seek the security of our own cultures and our prejudices. Inevitably we will give way to these temptations, thus losing our apostolic effectiveness, if we seek to rely on merely human motivation. There is needed that inner, ongoing conversion that comes~from being a new creation in Christ (2 Co 5:17). Only in the ongo.ing response.to this new life will we have the inner resources to become "all things to all men" (1 Co 9:22). The divine love within us gives us the evangelical muscle to keep struggling to be open to other p~oples "~nd their cultures: "Love is patient; love is kind. Love is not jealous, it does not l~ut on airs, it is not snobbish . There is no limit to love's forbearance, to its trust, its hope, its power to endure" (! Co 13:4,6). St. Paul uses the analogy of a runner when he explains the process of ongoing conversion. To stop runn.ing for the Lord is to fall back into purely human insights and comforts (1 Co 9:24-27). Constant discipline 6f the whole person is required: "Athletes deny themselves all sorts of things: . . . What I do is discipline my own body and master it; for fear that after having preached to others I myself ~.hould be rejected" (ibid). The discipline of conversion also involves the Struggle .to identify one's own cultural prejudices, and the battle to remove them. It is a never-ending struggle and battle! I recall a fine evangelizer working outside his culture-of-origin commenting: '~I th6.ught for years I was not prejudiced. I believedI deeply loved these people. One day ! discovered that I was highly prejudiced and this shocked me intense]y. I could get no good ser-vice in the local shops, the car was slow to be fixed, letters were not reach-ing me fast enough, the food tasted horrible! I found myself complaining aloud about the people, and I used all the stereotypes about them that I had thought I had long rejected: 'These silly people--they are lazy, deceitful. If only I was back home where things are really done rightly!' " This evangelizer is an honest person. He courageously recognized' his prejudices as grave obstacles to his supranational work of evangelization, and courageously struggled to remove them. He understands that self- 361~ /Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 discipline must be ongoing. When Yahweh called Abraham, he summoned him to leave the warmth of his familiar surroundings to begin a life's journey: "Go forth from the land of your kinsfolk and from your father's house to a land that I will show you" (Gn 12:1). R(ligious are to live out the same kind of call in a' spirit of faith. Bilbo, when he started out on his journey, sang "The world is ahead and home behind," but finally rejoiced when he could sing "The world is behind and home ahead." For we religious, unlike Bilbo, the ~hailenges of the world ahead are always with us; we can never say that we run out6f apostoli.c challenges or adventures. And our home is also ahead of u~. We await in hope for the ne, w Jerusalerrl (Ga 4:26). We can resist making this world our substitute Jerusalem only if we have Abraham's spirit of detachment and faith. Detachment comes from discov-ering in oneself one's own chaotic powerlessness to be supranationalist with-oiat the love and power of Christ. If we recognize our own inner helplessness, then we can say with'St. Paul: "And' so I willingly boast of my weaknesses instead, that the power of Christ may rest upon me . . . for when I am powerless, it is then that I am strong" (2 Co 12:9f.). Summary With St. Paul we say: "I do not run like a man who loses sight of the finish line" (1 Co 9:26). The ultimate finish line, in which there will be perfect justice and love, is to.be found when "the new heavens and the new earth" emerge at the end of time (2 P 3: I'3). In this waiting time we strive in faith to express this justice and love towards different peoples and cultures: "There does not exist among you Jew or Greek, slave or freeman, male or female. All, are one in Christ Jesus" (Ga 3:28). Religious esl~ecially commit themselves to this vision and its realiza-tion. In their lives and preachiflg they call people to look beyond this or that pressure group, political party, cultural group, tO the needs and insights of other people and cultures.39 At the same time they challenge people to avoid an unrealistic and ~i'~ous search for ~ perfect world here below, "for the world as we know it° is passing away" (I Co 7:31). Religious,. when confronted by the enormity of evil around them will be tempted to discouragement, skepticism or even the recklessness of despair. They will bc tempted to retreat into the security of their cultural prejudices and feel-ings of superiority. Recourse to merely human power, even violence, in order to achieve human justice may look very attractive. However, the moment a religious gives way to these temptations, he or she ceases to be apostolically supranationalist --indeed, apostolically effective. Beyond Frontiers I 369 NOTES ~ See John Paul II, Redemptor Hominis, 1979, par. 8. z See On Mutual Relations between Bishops and Religious, Congregations for Religious and Bishops, Rome, 1978, par. 12. 3 G. AIIport, The Nature of Prejudice (New York: Doubleday, 1958), p. 8. 4 See also D.L. Shields, Growing Beyond Prejudices (Mystic, Conn.: Twenty-Third Publications, 1986), pp. 149-176. 5 At times anthropologists, too, are guilty of romanticism. See G.E. Marcus and M.M. Fischer, Anthropology as Cultural Critique: An Experimental Moment in the Human Sciences (Chicago: Chicago University Press, 1986), passim. 6 Dictionary of the Bible (London: Geoffrey Chapman, 1986), p. 766. 7 See Congregation for Doctrine of the Faith, "Instruction on Christian Freedom and Liberation" in L'Osservatore Romano, 14 April, 1986, p. 5, par. 58. 8 See Lumen Gentium, par. 3. 9 Gaudium et Spes, par. 3. ~0 See G.A. Arbuckle, "lnculturation and Evangelization: Realism or Romanticism" in D.L. Whiteman (ed.), Missionaries, Anthropologists and Cultural Change (Williamsburg: Studies in Third World Societies, 1985), pp. 171-207. ~ See "Gregory's Counsel to Mellitus with Regard to the Heathen Temples in England" in A.J. Mason (ed.), The Mission of St. Augustine to England (Cambridge: CUP, 1879), pp. 89ff. t2 G. Voss, "Missionary Accommodation" in Missionary Academic Study No. 2 (New York: P. Faith, 1946), p. 17. ~3 See P. Duignan, "Early Jesuit Missionaries: A Suggestion for Further Study," in American Anthropologist, Vol. 6, pp. 725ff. 14 See S. Congregation for the Propagation of the Faith, "Instructio ad Vicariorum Apostolicorum ad Regna Synarum Tonchini et Cocinnae Proficiscentium," in Collectanea Sacrae Congregationis de P. Fide (Rome, 1907), Vol. I, p. 42. ~5 See M.D. Jeffreys, "Some Rules of Directed Culture Change under Roman Catho-licism" in American Anthropologist, Vol. 58, 1956, pp. 723f. ~6 See C.W. Allan, Jesuits at the Court of Peking (Arlington: University Publications of America, 1975), passim; and P. Duignan, op. cit., pp; 726ff. t7 See Pius XII, "Princeps Pastorum" in (ed.)R. Hickey, Modern Missionary Doc-uments and Africa (Dublin: Dominican Publications, 1982), p. 143. ~8 See Pius XII, AIIocution 6 Dec. 1953, in Acta

Issue 54.5 of the Review for Religious, September/October 1995. ; Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living SEPTEMBER/OCTOBER 1995 ¯ VOLUME 54 '. NUMBER 5 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: 314o977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ° St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ¯ P.O. Box 29260 ° Washington, DC 20017. POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©1995 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. for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming sJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Jean Read Joann Wolski Conn PhD Iris Ann Ledden SSND Joel Rippinger OSB Edmundo Rodriguez SJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living SEPTEMBER-OCTOBER 1995 ¯ VOLUME 54 ¯ NUMBER 5 contents 646 symposium The Roots of Faith-and-Justice: Critical Assessment Martin R. Tripole SJ presents a case for a more careful assessment of the relationship between faith and justice in the Christian apostolic life. Responses are made by Gerald F. Finnegan SJ, Vincent J. Genovesi SJ, and Charles L. Currie SJ. 675 681 ecumenism Ecumenism a Scripture Mandate for Religious Jude D. Weisenbeck SDS explains how ecumenism is at the very heart of what it means to be a religious. Too Deep for Dogma Bernard Seif SMC describes the enriching prayer relationship that has been created between a Salesian monastery and a Hindu ashram. 685 Catholicism in the Social Order of a New Era Curt Cadoret~e MM addresses changes in the church that will occur in the next millennium as its center of gravity moves from the developed to the developing world. 696 707 finding God Fihding God in Daily Life: Ignatian Spirituality's Heart Richard J. Hauser SJ describes a practical way of staying attuned to the Spirit by focusing upon the direction of one's heart. A Hermitage Experience Perry McDonald OFMCap takes away the fear or glamor of a hermitage experience as he recounts the everyday grace of solitude. 642 Review for Religious 716 The Abbey of S~nanque: A Journey of the Heart Dennis J. Billy CSSR ponders the contemplative effect of a pilgrimage to the Cistercian Abbey of S~nanque. 723 754 prayer Jesus:Beauty::Jesus:Compassion George A. Maloney SJ enters us into an experience of Jesus as Beauty and Compassionate Love which leads us to a self-emptying service towards others. 729 Mysticism as Flight M. Pascaline Coff OSB explains how t/~e breakthrough to the mystical, to the Transcendent, is the true goal of our lives. living spiritually J 735 The Problem with Problems Hilary Ottensmeyer OSB points out ways in which a problem-solving approach to hfe has e,normous consequences for how we think and feel about ourselves, our neighbor, and our God. 744 A Case for Candlelight [ Donald Macdonald SMM illumines thrbugh the experience of Julian of Norwich how personal relationships with God and others seem to flourish best in a gentldr rather than a harsher light. Vocation as Liberation and Revel Ltion Terrance Wayne Klein describes the necessity of liberation for ministerial candidates in their pursuit of a vocation call 644 772 from God. departments Prisms Canonical Counsel: Cloister for N~uns: From the 1917 Code to the 1994 Synod 779 Book Reviews September-October 199Y 643 prisms Te editor's introduction to each issue is usually focused on a way of viewing an issue, a practice, or an event in relation to our Christian living, often refracted through religious life heritages. In this issue I designate the following content rather in the "announcement" than in the "viewpoint" category. The National Board of the Religious Formation Conference in'the United States has designated Review for Religious to be the recipient of the Religious Formation Conference's Sister Mary Emil Penet IHM Award for 1995. The award is being given in recognition of its contribution to formation ministry in this country and throughout the world during its fifty-four-year-old history. The presentation will be made at the Ninth National Religious Formation Conference in St. Louis on October 13, 1995. Sister Mary Emil Penet, a member of the Congregation of the Immaculate Heart of Mary in Monroe, Michigan, was the founder of the Sister Formation Conference (pre-cursor of the Religious Formation Conference) and a woman who recognized the needs of her time in prepar-ing women religious for their professional ministries. The Religious Formation Conference evolved over the years from the founding vision of Sister Mary Emil Penet, and as a national organization continues to respond to the needs of religious communities in the area of initial and ongoing formation. Sister Mary Emil Penet received the first award in 1989. Presented biennially, the award was given to the Institute of Religious Formation at Saint Louis University and the Institute of Formative Spirituality at Duquesne University in 1991. In 1993 the Adorers of the Blood of Christ of Ruma, Illinois, received the Mary Emil Penet IHM Award in honor of their Sisters who were martyred in Liberia, all five of whom were in some way involved in the ministry of formation. 644 Review for Religious As the fourth editor of this journal, I express my apprecia-tion for this recognition--a tribute given to our many writers who have collaborated in sharing from their various religious life heritages. Building upon the untapped resource of collaboration among religious was central to the vision of the founding editors, Augustine Ellard $3, Adam Ellis SJ, and Gerald Kelly SJ, in 1942. That vision has been realized through the articles of numerous women and men--some well-known writers and many others not so well known, but all contributing from the richness of their insight and experience. Today this kind of collaboration is central to formation and ministry--between religious congregations and between religious and laity. ' In another example of collaboration, Review for Religious is working with the Jesuit Center for Spiritual Growth in Wernersville, Pennsylvania, in its special symposium: "Religious Life 30 Years Later. Is This What Vatican II Intended?" Scheduled to celebrate the 30th anniversary of Vatican II's decree on "The Appropriate Renewal of Religious Life" (Pe~fectae caritatis), this program will investigate the present state of religious life with an eye to appro-priate future developments. Major presentations will be given by Miriam Ukeritis CSJ, Albert Dilanni SM, George Aschenbrenner SJ, and Judith Merkle SNDdeN. The speakers mean to stimulate conversation among all the participants on current trends and devel-opments, community, mission, and other aspects of contemporary religious life. The symposium is dedicated to the memory of Mary Margaret Johanning SSND, former superior general and Review board member who died in October 1994. A notice on the practi-cal details for those wishing to participate in this symposium to be held October 26-29 can be found on page 797of this issue. Finally, Review for Religious intends to publish another book in the series The Best of the Review, with the title The Church and Consecrated Life. The book will include the pope's still-to-be-published apostolic exhortation as a result of the synod on con-secrated life, a collection of Elizabeth McDonough's Canonical Counsel articles reviewing church documents on religious life, and other significant articles relating to synod considerations. This prepublication announcement is meant only to alert you, our readers. Look for the book's publication in early 1996. David L. Fleming SJ September-October 199Y 645 MARTIN R. TRIPOLE The Roots of Faith-and-Justice: Critical Assessment symposium The 34th General Congregation of the Society of Jesus (GC34) met in Rome from 5 January to 22 March 1995. Twenty-four documents were approved and, as of this writing, were awaiting final revisions and official pro-mulgation. Its decree 2, 'titled "Our Mission and Justice," renews Jesuit "commitment to the promotion of justice as an integral part of our mission, as this has been exten-sively developed in GC32 and GC33.''~ Thus GC34 reaf-firms the tradition of the promotion of justice set in place at the 32nd General Congregation in 1975. This paper examines the roots of the justice move~ ment in GC32's decree 4, "Our Mission Today: The Service of Faith and the Promotion of Justice.''2 Commonly known as Decree Four, the document was dis-cussed amid considerable opposition during GC32 and has been the subject of much joy, confusion, and consternation since, reflecting the different ways the document has been received. A decree of major importance, it became the guiding light that gave new direction and meaning to much of Jesuit spirituality and ministry thereafter. It also had a significant effect on the many other religious orders of men and women that took guidance from its words in Martin R. Tripole SJ, associate professor of theology, and the three Jesuit respondents to his paper first presented these reflec-tions on 21 January 1995 at a Jesuit community meeting at St. Joseph's University. Their address is St. Joseph's University; 5600 City Avenue; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19131. 646 Review for Religious reorienting their own spirituality and apostolic direction. It will therefore be useful to examine carefully what the doc-ument decreed about the promotion of justice, why it made this change of direction, whether it was justified in doing so, and whether there might not be a better course to follow to attain its noble goals. This presentation is divided into three parts: (1) the meaning and use of justice in decree 4, with analysis of the spe-cial importance it gives t6 the promotion of justice in the apostolic life; (2) the meaning of"the poor"; and (3) a suggestion for a bet-ter formulary to guide religious apostolic life into the coming millennium. The Meaning and Use of Justice in the Decree A careful examination makes it clear that the primary mean-ing of justice in decree 4 is social justice, a justice that is achieved through the revamping of institutional or social structures so that they May more adequately reflect and promote a just ordering of society. There are those who argue that justice in the decree is more properly understood as the human reflection of divine justice, as God's justice at work in the world. This, they assert, makes Jesuit efforts to promote justice a spiritual activity appropriate to their priestly life. While it is true that the decree does argtie, and rightly so, that our efforts to secure tlie rights of others are a reflection of the "power of God's mercy, that mercy whereby he most fully shows forth his justice," this notion is present in only one small part of.the document and in no way substantiates the assertion that justice in the decree takes its central meaning from this the-ological idea) The argument from divine justice has such an iso-lated position in the document that one guesses it is an afterthought to provide a spiritual, foundation for activity in the social order.4 Even understood thus, the argument has its prob-lems, which we shall point out later. In emphasizing social justice the decree gives importance to the establishment of right relationships among people--to render to each what is his or her due--but stresses even more the need to change the social, political, and economic structures of society so that all, especially the poor and oppressed, obtain what is due them through these structures. The decree states: "There are mil-lions of men and women in our world., who are suffering from September-October 199Y 647 Tripole ¯ The Roots of Faitb-and- ffustice poverty and hunger, from the unjust, distribution of wealth and resources and from the consequences of racial, social, and polit-ical discrimination . In a world where the power of economic, social, and political structures is now appreciated and the mech-anisms and laws governing them are now understood, service according to the gospel cannot dispense with a carefully planned effort to exert influence on those structures" (§20 and §31). So far, so good. But this leads to one of the major conclu-sions of this presentation, and perhaps the major conclusion: While it is acceptable that the promotion of justice be a work of the Society of Jesus and, indeed, of all religious life, d problem arises when the decree makes the promotion of justice the absolute stan-dard against which all apostolates must be justified, saying in effect that you cannot have an apostolate in Jesuit life which is not, in some sense, a work of justice. The point is stated emphatically at least twice in the decree: The mission of the Society of Jesus today is the service of faith, of "which the promotion of justice is an absolute requirement. (§2) The promotion of justice is not one apostolic area among others, the "social apostolate"; rather, it should be the concern of our whole life and a dimension of all our apostolic endeavors. (§47) There are at least two reasons why it is unwise to give the promotion of justice this comprehensive role: First, there is an inherent danger in seeing a work of the temporal order as neces-sary to justify a (more ultimate) spiritual work, the danger being that this penultimate requirement may become the goal itself and thus its own legitimation. In this case the promotion of justice would become the goal of apostolic endeavors, rather than being in the service of the faith. Fear of that danger was present even among some of the del-egates at GC32. According to Jean-Yves Calvez, a delegate to the congregation and a longtime close associate of Father General Arrupe, some of the members "were truly fearful that, if the two themes [the promotion of justice and the entire apostolic life] were to be united, the promotion of justice would come to occupy the whole field and appear to represent the totality of today's Jesuit apostolate.''s That Pope Patil VI sensed this danger is clear from his admonitions to the Jesuits through his secretary of state, Jean Cardinal Villot,at the end of GC32, when Paul reminded 648 Review for Religious the delegates of what he had said in his closing remarks at the 1974 Synod of Bishops: "Human development and social progress in the temporal order should not be extolled in such exaggerated terms as to obscure the essential significance which the church attributes to evangelization and the proclamation of the full gospel.6 By most accounts, this danger became a reality--at least twice. Arrupe noted in 1972 that an undue emphasis had been placed upon justice as "socioeconomic development" in the aftermath " of Vatican II, probably because of the powerful impetus given to the social-jus-tice movement b}" Gaudium et spes.7 But it is also generally accepted today that after GC32 the concept of justice again became largely identified by Jesuits with the work of the social apostolate. Calvez tells us that a group of Jesuits who met in Latin America in 1982 admitted that they had "yielded to excessively secularized views" of justice in their apostolate (Calvez, p. 65). He notes that Arrupe became con-cerned in 1980 that justice was being seen as something "sufficient in itself" and not related to charity (p. 84) and tried to cor-rect the problem in his famous talk of 6 February 1981, "Rooted and Grounded in Love." Calvez and others argue that Arrupe reaffirmed the impor- " tance of love or charity in that talk--that social justice should not be separated from love or charity--but that he did not in any way intend to correct decree 4's heavy emphasis upon justice. But a better reading of the evidence indicates that Arrupe was reducing the importance of justice in that talk. Arrupe had been affirming as early as 1966, the year after he became superior general, that all Jesuit ministries and every form of Jesuit apostolate had to be a response "to the urgent priorities which justice and social equity call for. Even an apostolate like education., must be the object of reflection in the light of the demands of the social problem.''8 Right through to GC32 he often sti'essed the role of justice in the apostolate, especially in the famous 1973 speech in Valencia to Jesuit alumni, many of whom became so upset at his assertion that they had not been adequately Justice is necessary, but it is not enough. The world needs a stronger cure, a more effective witness and more effective deeds: those of love. Septentber-October 1995 649 Tripole ¯ The Roots of Faitb-and-ffustice educated for justice that the .president of the alumni association immediately resigned'(Calvez, p. 27). But, in "Rooted and Grounded in Love" only eight years later, Arrupe speaks quite differently. He talks about "all the imperfec-tions" of decree 4, that it was an "option in the right direction" but not sufficient: "Justice is necessary, but it is not enough. The world needs a stronger cure, a more effective witness and more effective deeds: those of love .C.harity adds its transcendent, inner dimension to justice .E.very explanation in terms of jus-tice seems inadequate.''9 About two months before this talk, Pope John Paul II had published his second encyclical, Dives in misericordia (Rich in Mercy). Arrupe cites it explicitly: "The experience of the past and of our own time demonstrates that justice alone is not enough, that it can even lead to the n.egation and destruction of itself, if that deeper power, which is love, is not allowed to shape human life in its various dimensions.''~° It would seem that Arrupe had come to a new awareness that undue emphasis had been placed on the promotion of justice by the Jesuits, an emphasis that should more properly have been placed on love and charity. The second difficulty with making the promotion of justice the criterion for all Jesuit apostolates is that it risks undermining the acceptability of traditional apostolates which cannot easily be explained as extensions of the promotion of justice. The ques-tioning of the legitimacy of many traditional apostolates is exactly what~occurred after GC32 and has continued to this day, for it is difficult to find rational arguments to justify apostolates such as education, the fine arts, some forms of research and publishing, administering the sacraments, and giving spiritual counsel on matters of faith and on people's personal relationship with God when these all must be demonstrably the promotion of justice to survive. This leads to one's asking why all apostolates must be expres-sions of justice. It seems.they must only if it has been determined a priori that justice is the norm for all apostolates. But why should that be the case? What the following discussion may show is that there is no clear reason for justice to be given ~uch a far-reaching role. Although dec'ree 4 provides at leasteight arguments for the comprehensive role of justice jn all apostolic activity, we shall examine only two of the more important ones here. 650 Review for Religious Is Justice an Absolute Requirement of Faith? The major argument is based on the view that the "mission of the Society of Jesus today is the service of faith, of which the pro-motion of justice is an absolute requirement" (decree 4, §2).lj But is the promotion of justice an absolute requirement of the service of faith? No footnote is given in decree 4 for the origins of this idea, but they are found in the document:Tustice in the World from the Synod of Bishops of 1971, which Arrupe made use of in the congregation. The key text from that statement reads: "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." J2 The words constitutive dimension are crucial, for if used in their technical sense they would mean that "action on behalf of justice" is essential to the preaching of the gospel--so that you could not preach the gospel without action on behalf of justice. The statement is repeatedly cited by all who would make the promotion of justice a new essen-tial dimension of Christian liv-ing, and everyone takes these words constitutive dimension in their literal technical meaning. It would take too long to discuss this matter fully here, but Charles Murphy, the former rector of the North American College in Rome, wrote in 1983 a highly significant article on this topic, in which he shows that, whatever it may have meant by those two words, the synod did not mean that they should be taken in their technical sense.13 Among the synod's possible meanings, the most likely is that justice is an integral part of the proclamation of the gospel. According to Avery Dulles, "integral part" means "pertains to the completeness of that of which it is a part, but., not essential to the existence of the latter." ~4 The distinction is crucial, for if the promotion of justice is "integral" but not essential to the service of faith, then the promotion of justice is not an "absolute require-ment" of the service of faith, as decree 4 asserts)s If the promotion of justice is "integral" but not essential to the service of faith, then the promotion of justice is not an "absolute requirement" of the service of faith. September-October 199Y 651 Tripole ¯ The Roots of Faitb-and-ffustice No pope since 1971 has understood "constitutive dimension" from Jztstice in the V~orld to have its technical meaning. Paul VI argued that the synod had not in fact explained the exact nature of the relationship between action for justice and the procl.ama-tion of the gospel, and both he and John Paul II have repeatedly used other terms; such as "profound links," to explain the rela-tionship. John Paul II, at his opening address at the Puebla Conference of Latin American Bishops in 1979, stated that work on behalf of justice is "an indispensable part" of the church's "evangelization mission." This is clearly not to assert that it is a constitutive or essential element of evangelization, but rather, in Dulles's sense, an integral part of it. The International Theological Commission in 1977 explicitly treated the synod statement.~6 It argues that the document should not be understood in a "theoretical, scientific," or "theological" way (I, p. 307), that it should be understood as affirming "a pro-found unity that links" the proclamation of the gospel and justice (II, p. 307), and that the more accurate meaning "seems" to be "an integral part, not an essential part" (IV, p. 311). Is Justice Integral to Priesthood? A second reason for the special importance given to the pro-motion of iustice in decree 4 is based on the essential role sup-posedly given to it in the ministry of the Jesuits as a priestly order. Because this constitutes one of the more serious theological argu-ments in the documents and because it has a broader signifi~cance for all religious priestly congregations, it needs to be given seri-ous attention. The argument in question reads as follows: The mission of the Society today is the priestly service of the faith, an apostolate whose aim is to help people become more open toward God and more willing to live according to the demands of the gospel. The gospel demands a life freed from egoism and self-seeking, from all attempts to seek one's own advantage, and from every form of exploita-tion of one's neighbor. It demands a life in which the justice of the gospel shines out in a willingness not only to recog-nize and respect the rights of all, especially the poor and the powerless, but also to work actively to secure those rights. It demands an openness and generosity toward any-one in need, even a stranger or an enemy. It demands, 652 Review for Religious towards those who have injured us, pardon; toward those with whom we are at odds, a spirit of reconciliation. We do not acquire this attitude of mind by our own efforts alone. It is the fruit of the Spirit who transforms our hearts and fills them with the power of God's mercy, that mercy whereby he most fully shows forth his justice by drawing us, unjust though we are, to his friendship. It is by this that we know that the promotion of justice is an integral part of the priestly service of the faith. (decree 4, § 18) We have here an argument that conflates several theological re~ilities that, while interrelated, must be understood distinctly: divine justice and human expressions of it and also the priesthood of all the faithful and the ministerial priesthood. The document gives as parallels "the justice of the gospel" that expresses itself in the mercy by which God draws us into his friendship and into the human practice of justice by which we recognize, respect, and promote the rights of others. The decree implies a certain equa-tion between the horizontal and the vertical: Our work toward the establishing of respect for the rights of others is made possi-ble in the power of God's mercy, the same mercy which is at work when God's justice brings us into his friendship. Thus it is God's justice which is at work both in our efforts to promote justice in the world and in divine-human reconciliation. The argument is not incorrect: It is in reality God's justifying action that is at work in the world in human efforts to promote justice. But God's justice is far greater than human expressions of it. Human actions of justice may therefore be considered one form of God's justice, but only one, and perhaps not even the major form of it. Justice in the Scriptures is always understood as at work inside a covenant relationship, whether in the Old or New Testament. Justice is God's saving,,redemptive activity at work in the world, extricating humans from the power of sin and restoring them to a relationship of friendship with God. Justice is equated with that saving action, and it is present wherever that action is at work. Justice, then, is ultimately found wherever salvific union with God is established. In the Old Testament, Israel's justice is "that she repents and takes refuge in her God, that she trusts in him, that she is faith-ful." t7 In the New Testament, justice takes place in the relation-ship centered on Christ's redemptive activity in his suffering, death, and resurrection. The human being's justice, then, "consists September-October 199~ 653 Tripole * The Roots of Faitb-and-ffustice of, and depends upon, his trusting acceptance of God's saving act in Christ, whereby man accepts the restored covenant relationship with God." ~8 In the New Testament, God in Christ is the source of justice or righteousness, and the human being enters into that righ-teousness by faith in Christ. We are justified in that we are brought back into friendship with God and made his adopted children. God's Spirit leads us to a share in the new justified life as God's children, which is in fact a sharing in God's own life-- even now in this world and more fully in the next. It is in the experience of this new life in God that the com-munity of love, human dignity, and respect for one another is formed. Indeed, in the Christian dispensation the horizontal expressions of that saving justice are realized as a consequence of the justice already enacted between God and human beings, so that the horizontal experience is unintelligible without the lat-ter. To separate human expressions of justice from the salvific encounter with God in the knowledge and recognition of his sav-ing love in Christ is not only to risk distorting the Christian dis-pensation but also to risk reducing the Christian expression of justice to something purely secular. As far as Christians are concerned, the promotion of justice should not be separated from its relationship to divine justice, which is its sole ground of meaning. This means that the pro-motion of justice not only should never be separated from its relationship to the gospel, but also should never diminish pri-mary attention on the good news of God's justifying Word. Decree 4 rightly argues that "our mission today is to preach Jesus Christ and to make him kntwn in such a way that all men and women are able to recognize him" (§1 i). The danger in decree 4 is that, with its excessive emphasis upon the promotion of justice in the social order, the gospel risks being slighted. What is rightly understood as the incarnation of the gospel in the world risks being sepa-rated from its foundation in divine justice and becoming simply an action of social justice of the secular order. That what Arrupe recognized as a danger actually happened in the aftermath of the decree in the late 1970s indicates that the danger remains a real one. While Vatican II in Gaudium et spes did encourage the church to take a strong role in promoting the dignity of the human person, it nevertheless saw human actions for justice as properly pr0paedeutic to the proclamation of the saving 654 Review for Religious mysteries of Jesus Christ and never intended that human efforts for justice be separated from the justifying life of the church. Unless human efforts at justice are designed to lead to an expe-rience of justifying union with Christ in his church, such efforts risk becoming inconsonant with the Christian mission. Decree 4 gives the impression that divine justice translates directly and adequately into efforts at justice in the world. While efforts at human justice are extremely important to God's justi-fy! ng action in the world, that impor-tance should not overshadow the fact that God's saving justice is revealed in many parts of our lives in which the word justice is not used. God's saving justice is revealed in the whole life of the church, especially in the procla-mation of God's Word and the church's sacramental life. While human justice is an integral part of the service of the faith, it is not the rich-est way in which God's saving action is manifested. Therefore, if the promo-tion of justice should ever be stressed to such a point that it begins to over-shadow the primacy of the proclama-tion of the gospel and the sacramental life of the church, one risks once again separating the promgtion of justice from its solid Christian base. Besides the, potential confusion that we have been discussing in regard God's divine justice, which is his saving covenanted relationship with his people, makes a human act of justice priestly, not in the ministerial sense, but rather in the sense of the priesthood of all the faithful. to decree 4's conflation (in § 18) of ~two theologically distinct mean-ings of justice, the passage also tends to confuse the priesthood of the faithful common to a!l Christians with the ministerial priest-hood conferred by the sacrament of holy orders. God's divine jus-tice, which is his saving covenanted relationship with his people, makes a humah act of justice priestly, not in the ministerial sense, but rather in the sense of the priesthood of all the faithful, each of whom is called to show through justice towards others God's saving activity" towards all. The promqtion of justice is, of course, appropriate to the life of the ordained priest inasmuch as he is called to proclaim the SepteTnber-October 1995 655 Tripole ¯ The Roots of Faitb-and-ffu~tice gospel and be instrumental in the establishment of God's kingdom, which in some sense involves the establishment of just relation-ships among people. If at times the faithful as a whole are not exercising their commitment to justice by direct action in its ser-vice, it may fall upon the ordained ministers to try to compensate for that lacuna by direct action. Nevertheless, it is to the enhance-ment of the lay faithful's efforts for justice that the ordained priest's mission efforts should be directed, rather than to his own direct involvement. To the extent that the priest gives himself to the latter, he risks slighting the mission role of all the faithful, a mis-sion that is increasingly in need of support. Who Are the Poor? Inextricably linked to the promotion of justice is what is often called the "preferential option for the poor." Though that expres-sion is not used until the 33rd General Congregation in 1983, it is there in germ in decree 4, which makes it clear that "the justice of the gospel" calls us "to recognize and respect the rights of all, especially the poor and the powerless, but also to work actively to secure those rights" (§18). The question arises: Who are the poor? No doubt the term "the poor" is used by decree 4 to refer to the materially or economically poor and the politically oppressed. But we should look to the scriptural use of the expression, to see if this commonly accepted understanding of who the poor are is consonant with the Bible. In the earliest stages of Israel's history, the poor are indeed the economically poor and the politically oppressed or marginalized. But in the postexilic period (after the 5th century B.C.) "the poor" is often the term used for people who are simply meek and humble, but then also for the Israelite community as a whole, standing before God in need. In the New Testament the two favorite texts making refer-ence to the poor are found in the beatitudes in Matthew 5:3-12 and Luke 6:20-27 and in the Last Judgment scene in Matthew 25:31-46. In examining these three passages and the exegetical interpretations of them, we shall see that there is a broad spectrum of scholarly viewpoints on who the poor are. When Jesus says "Blessed are the poor" (Lk 6:20) and "Blessed are the poor in spirit" (Mt 5:3), there is one thing we can be cer-tain of, according to the exegetes: Jesus is not speaking about poor people as such. R.J. Karris says: "The Lucan Jesus is not 656 Review for Religious declaring a social class blessed."19 According to the exegetes, when Jesus calls the poor blessed, he is referring, not to poor people everywhere in the world, but to those among his listeners who are open to his message, open to his Father and the coming of his kingdom, and open to accepting Jesus and his teaching as his disciples. There is no blessed state, as far as Jesus is concerned, apart from being one of his disciples. In Luke, it is true, the disciples (or potential disciples) are addressed primarily in their material and political poverty. But we must not forget that in Matthew the beatitudes are addressed to the "poor in spirit." The primary emphasis here is not on the material or political state of the blessed, but on the fact that they are poor in spirit, that is, living lives of dependence upon God, trusting their lives to him completely, and finding no meaning, comfort, satisfaction, or fulfillment in the things of the world. What Matthew brings out (though it is true for Luke as well) is that the poor are blessed, not because of their material or political poverty, but because of the total orientation of their lives to God in Jesus. This leaves ¯ open the possibility that, for Jesus, being poor or poor in spirit means being a disciple of his (at least poten-tially) and not necessarily being mate-rially or politically deprived. It may be that Matthew, having in mind a later stage in the life of the Christian community, may be extending the beatitude "to all, of whatever social rank, who rec-ognized their complete dependence on God.''2° One exegete asserts that "Matthew has spiritualized and generalized the beat-itudes, making them applicable to the spiritual needs and moral endeavor of every member of his church.''2~ After all, Matthew alone among the Gospel writers tells us that Joseph of Arimathea was "a rich man" and that Jesus' body is laid "in his new tomb" (Mr 27:57 and 60). Would Matthew have considered Joseph not to be poor in spirit? It seems we must be open to a conception of the poor that includes more than the economically poor and polit-ically marginalized. What Matthew brings out is that the poor are blessed, not because of their material or political poverty, but because of the total orientation of their lives to God in Jesus. Septentber-October 1995 657 Tripole ¯ The Roots of Faith-and-ffustice Last Judgment Scene Exegesis of the Last Judgment scene (Nit 25:31-46) is equally broad. The heart of the problem is contained in Jesus' statement to "all the nations" assembled for judgment before the Son of Man when he comes in glory: "Whatever you did for one of these least brothers and sisters of mine you did for me," and "What you did not do for one of these least ones you did not do ~:or me." Exegesis centers on who these least ones are and who the people in the nations are who are judged by how they relate to the least ones. There are two quite different interpretations in contention here. The more popular interpretation is that the least ones or least brothers and sisters are the materially and politically poor of the world and that "the nations" includes anyone in the world who comes to their assistance. The point is that, if you respond to the needy, you will be saved; if you do not, you will be condemned. The number of exegetes who in recent times subscribe to this interpretation is significant, due to the emphasis given to it by liberation theologians seeking a scriptural basis for a preferential option for the materially poor and socially oppressed. But there are problems: What about the necessity of faith for salvation and Jesus' constant call for faith among his disciples? Where does that fit in? The pec~ple of the nations are not represented as hav-ing any faith. Some exegetes argue that their faith is presumed, but this is a big presumption. Also, none of the people have any awareness of Jesus' teach-ing identifying himself with these least ones. Would not the dis-ciples know this teaching? It seems better to argue that the people are nonbelievers, in which case the passage is s~howing the sav-ing value and the necessity of works of love for nonbelievers. Niore and .more Matthean scholars argue that it is the Gentiles (and possibly the nonbelieving Jews) who make up the nations and that the least ones are Jesus' disciples sent on mission to preach the gospel of the kingdom.2~ The point, then, is that the Gentiles are saved or not saved according to how they respond to Jesus' disciples in their missionary needs. This appears to be the better meaning. It is based on Jesus' use of "brothers and sisters" to refer to members of the community, especially disciples in need (Mr 10:42 and 12:49), and on the fact that Matthew gives prominence to Jesus' sending his disciples on mission (Nit 10), telling them to carry on this mission to "all nations" to the end of time (Mt 10:40). This approach explains 658 Review for Relig%us why the respondents did not know that Jesus was present in his disciples, since they, unlike the disciples, would not have been familiar with that teaching. It also satisfies more easily the prob-lem caused by the lack of any mention of the importance of faith, a major element in Jesus' teaching (Mt 10:32-33): While explic-itly nonbelieving, the nations are saved because they are in fact responding positively to Jesus present in his disciples. With this exegesis, Jesus in the Last Judgment scene would not be showing a preferential love for or solidarity with the socioe-conomically poor. The scene would have an entirely different meaning; it would show his identification with the members of his community on mission and would give to that mission theo-logical and soteriological significance of enormous proportions. The disciples would be on a mission of evangelization, entrusted to all Christians by reason of their faith and baptism. With this exegesis, the Last Judgment scene and the beati-tudes in both Matthew and Luke could have a certain common message: Jesus' preferential love, if there is to be any, is extended to all sinners who accept him and respond to his teaching. In view of the fact that Jesus came to call all "sinners" (Mr 9:13), Jesus' option or choice is not for any special group or types of people, but rather for anyone who would hear his call and accept him and his teaching. A preferential love, however, could have been directed toward a special group, though certainly not toward hyp-ocrites (Mt 23) and the self-righteous (Lk 16:15; 18:9-14). Jesus, while never excluding anyone who would respond to his call On 3:1), may have had a special love for those perhaps best described as physically unfortunate (Mt 4:23-24) and spiritually dispossessed (Mk 1:12-18 and 5:1-20). Nevertheless, when it came to who this Jesus said would be "greatest in the kingdom of heaven," it was not the poor, nor the unfortunate or dispossessed, but "whoever hum-bles himself like this child" (Mt 18:~t) and "whoever obeys and teaches these commandments" (Nit 5:19b). This would seem to argue that Jesus' preferential love was for whoever accepted him and lived a life of dependence on God, as much as it was for the poor, the unfortunate, and the dispossessed. Those who point to Matthew 5:3 as evidence that Jesus had a preferential love for the poor o~erlook the fact that that verse is immediately followed by similar blessings on.those who mourn, the meek, those who search for evidence of the kingdom on earth, as well as on the merciful, the pure of heart, the peacemakers, September-October 199Y 659 Tripole ¯ The Roots of Faith-and-Justice and those who are persecuted because of their commitment to Jesus--all of whom may be different types of persons for whom Jesus had a preferential option or who may (more likely) be the same people denoted by different dimensions of their lives, in which case the term poor is probably an all-inclusive category. Since the Gospel, by the time it was written, was being addressed to a Christian community already formed, it is also possible that these beatitudes are intended collectively to describe worthy mem-bers of the Christian community, in which case the poor of the beatitudes are all who have turned to Jesus in faith, hope, and love and are committed to serve him with their lives until the end. This more extended sense of the meaning of the poor has been confirmed by recent statements. In 1986 the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith stated: "The .special option for the poor, far from being a sign of particularism or sectarianism, man-ifests the universality of the church's being and mission. This option excludes no one"; and John Paul II, in his Christmas mes-sage of 1984, listed fourteen separate groups under the concept of the poor, two of which are those who suffer from psychological violence and families that suffer from the moral upheaval of soci-ety due to consumerism.23 A Better Formulary to Explain the Priestly Apostolate GC32's ultimate goal was not simply to promote justice in the world by altering unjust social structures. This is not enough, for it simply attempts to redress the external order. What it wanted to do ultimately was to transform inner lives, to reshape who Jesuits and others are, as a necessary foundation for reestablish-ing the dignity of the human person and right relationships in the human community. The outreach of justice is not .great enough to accomplish this. What decree 4 should have made its primary focus was not human justice but divine justice, the entire process of God's sav-ing relationship toward his people. Instead of putting its primary focus on human justice, it should have put it on the transforma-tion of the human heart so as to bring it into a saving relationship with the divine, which would then be expressed in saving rela-tionships with others. A better formular~ to clarify these goals would be "the service of the faith through the promotion of a Christian and human culture." 660 Review for Religious This formulary keeps the mission's Christian dimension clear and puts inculturation at the forefront of evangelizing efforts. The primary goal of Jesuits and, indeed, of all apostolic religious would, accordingly, be to promote their own personal faith rela-tionship with Jesus Christ through endeavors to inculturate his gospel; in doing this they would be fostering and inculcating val-ues not only consistent with the gospel but also conducive to a truly human society. Such a program would be broad enough to include the promotion of justice and all or most of the other apostolates appropriate to religious life as well. Concentrating work on the pro-motion of justice helps to change external relationships, but it does not necessarily touch hearts, the way peo-ple think and the standards they use to measure success. It does not touch who we are and how we seek fulfill-ment. It does not necessarily restruc-ture our personal relationship to God--or to God in Christ, as the Ignatian focus would put it. Let us briefly examine a.typical apostolate of religious, namely, edu-cation. If we overdo the promotion of justice among our students, there is a danger that the Christian life may come to mean only redressing unjust social structures, but not changing who the students are. Students often seek a secure identity for themselves by adopting secular society's production-and-consumption values, values that embrace greed, money, power, and prestige. There is even danger that, in religious life, the promotion of justice may become a slick way of appearing to care without having any real transformation take place inside us. The promotion ofiustice urges us to fit into our lives some time for thinking of others, but it does not necessar-ily touch our fundamental options. In spite of programs promoting justice in our schools, our students often leave with an understanding of Christianity that accepts as a given that the normal human being lives a me-cen-tered life. The promotion of justice is likely to cut away only a Concentrating work on the promotion of justice helps to change external relationships, but it does not necessarily touch hearts, the way people think and the standards they use to measure success. Septe~ber-October 199Y 661 Tripole * The Roots of Faitb-and-ffustice small part from that me-centered existence. Justice actions can easily fall into the category of works of charity seen as addenda required of those who would be Christian, but who otherwise" lead self-centered lives. This leaves the rich to continue to get richer while the poor get poorer, with the Christian willingly sharing in that search for wealth and power, feeling there is noth-ing wrong as long as life is tinged with social concern. It is little wonder, then, that when there is an open clash in society between the values of the world and Catholic values, the church loses regularly. Christianity has come to be perceived as a side issue, whose primary purpose is to help the needy, and whose legitimate requirements are satisfied by giving some time or money to social causes. In this scenario Christianity's role is to make people feel good--whether as giver or receiver--rather than to make them redefine their understanding of who they are. The church thus loses the right to ask for a redefinition of human existence that would involve a commitment of one's whole life to Christ, to the life of the beatitudes, and to Christ's church. Union with Christ and through him with the Father is pri-mary, and this is not necessarily established by the promotion of justice. People must be led to understand that a personal rela-tionship with Christ through his church is primary and that this demands a commitment so profound that it challenges one's def-inition of oneself. A fundamental change occurs when people give themselves to their baptismal identification with Christ, and the new moral life is consequent upon that change. The absolute requirement in the service of the faith--for reli-gious as for anyone--is identification with Christ: not just to be men and women for others, but to be committed and involved, through personal faith experience, with Someone who re-creates who we are, so that as other Christs we think and act with the mentality, value perceptions, attitudes, and habits that are his. This kind of faith experience is so fundamental that it revolu-tionizes one's existence; it permeates one's whole life. It is this deeper transformation that Paul VI saw operating in effective evafigelization and that he perhaps felt was not pre-sent in the call to promote justice. To promote justice is to seek to establish equitable relations among people individually and collectively. To seek to establish Christian and human culture is to seek to transform people's mind-sets, the precondition for the establishment of a just society. 662 Review fo'r Religious In the coming millennium, the purpose of our religious apos-tolate must be to redress not the lack of justice so much as the lack of fully human beings--men and women who are motivated by Christ and by the beatitudes he proclaimed. To achieve that goal is far greater and more important than simply to promote jus-tice. The church and the world are in need of religious who will work for the transformation of minds and hearts, other people's as well as their own. This can be accomplished only if we restore the person of Christ and the centrality of a life of faith in him to the center of our mission statements. In doing that, we shall also be working for the promotion of all the values he stands for, val-ues not limited to but including the promotion of justice. Notes ~ Continuity is being affirmed with the decrees of General Congregation 32 (GC32), which met in Rome from 2 December 1974 to 7 March 1975 and General Congregation 33 (GC33), which met in Rome from 2 September to 25 October 1983. References from the doc-uments of GC34 are taken from "The Interim Documents of General Congregation 34 of the Society of Jesus," National Jesuit News 24, no. 5 (April 1995), special pull-out section, pp. 1-40. Here the reference is to "Our Mission and Justice," §3, pp. 6-8 at 6. z A more complete presentation of the issues discussed in the paper may be found in the author's Faith Beyond Justice: Widening the Perspective (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1994). 3 "Our Mission Today: The Service of Faith and the Promotion of Justice," decree 4 of the 32nd General Congregation, in Documents of the 31st and 32nd General Congregations of the Society of Jesus, ed. John W. Padberg SJ (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1977), pp. 411-438, §18 (hereafter, paragraphs are noted in the text). Other documents in this volume are noted under Documents. 4 A letter dated 8 February 1995 to the author from Gerard J. Hughes SJ, chairperson of the commission that composed the decree, confirms this impression. He states that references to supernatural justice were inserted at the end to make clearer the idea that such activity was under-stood as part of the priestly ministry of Jesuits. 5 Jean-Yves Calvez sJ, Faith and Justice: The Social Dimension of Evangelization, trans. John E. Blewett SJ (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1991 [1985]), p. 35 (hereafter, Calvez, and pages are noted in the text). 6 Appendix to "Letter of the Cardinal Secretary of State to Father General," 2 May 1975, Documents, p. 547. 7 Pedro Arrupe SJ, Witnessing to Justice Vatican City: Pontifical Commission Justice and Peace, 1972), p. 41. September-October 199~ 663 Tripole * The Roots of Faitb-and-ffustice s Pedro Arrupe SJ, "To Major Superiors of Latin America on the Social Apostolate in Latin America," 12 December 1966, Acta Romana Societatis Iesu 16 (1967): 791; Calvez, p. 27. 9 "Rooted and Grounded in Love," in Pedro Arrupe SJ, One Jesuit's Spiritual Journey: Selected Letters and Addresses, vol. 5 (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1986), §67. ,0 John Paul II, Rich in Mercy (Dives in Mi~ericordia) (Washington: USCC, 1981), §12. l~ The original text reads: "la service de la foi, dont la promotion de la justice constitue une exigence absolue"; the official Latin reads: "fidei servitium, cui promotio justitiae ut exigentia absoluta pertinet" (Acta Roman Societatis Iesu 16 [1975]: 330-331). The complete French and Latin texts are found on pp. 330-375. GC34's decree "Jesuits and the Situation of Women in Church and Civil Society" reaffirms this position (~8, p. 30). 12 "Justice in the World: Synod of Bishops' Second General Assembly," 30 November 1971, §6, in Joseph Gremillion, The Gospel of Peace and Justice: Catholic Social Teaching since Pope John (Mary.knoll: Orbis Books, 1976); pp. 513-529 at 520. 13 Charles M. Murphy, "Action for Justice as Constitutive of the Preaching of the Gospel: What Did the 1971 Synod Mean?" Theological Studies 44, no. 2 (June 1983): 298-311. ,4 Avery Dulles SJ, "Faith, Justice, and the Jesuit Mission," Assembly 1989: Jesuit Ministry in Higher Education (Washington: Jesuit Conference, 1990), pp. 19-25 at 24. ,5 Decree 4 states that the promotion of justice is both an "absolute requirement" of the service of faith (§2) and "an integral part of evange-lization" (§30). The decree gives no consideration to the marked differ-ence between the two statements. The latter would allow for apostolates not directly expressive of the promotion of justice; the former would not. Note that GC34's "Our Mission and. Justice" uses only the expression "integral part" when addressing the role of the promotion of justice in the Jesuit mission, fdr example, §1 (p. 6). 16 "Human Development and Christian Salvation," Origins 7, no. 20 (3 November 1977): 305 and 307-313 (hereafter, section and page are noted in the text). ,7 E.R. Achtemeier, "Righteousness in the Old Testament," in The Interpreter's Dictionary of the Bible (New York: Abingdon, 1962), vol. 4, pp. 80-85 at 84. ,8 p.j. Achtemeier, "Righteousness in the New Testament," in The Interpreter's Dictionary of the Bible (New York: Abingdon, 1962), vol. 4, pp. 91-99 at 91. ,9 Robert J. Karris OFM, "The Gospel according to Luke," in New Jerome Biblical Commentary, 48:39. 2o The New American Bible, Saint Joseph Edition (New York: Catholic Book Publishing Co., 1986), p. 16. 664 Review for Religious 2~ John P. Meier, Matthew (Wilmington: Michael Glazier, 1980), p. 39. 2., Eugene A. LaVerdiere SSS and William G. Thompson SJ, "New Testament Communities in Transition: A Study of Matthew and Luke," Theological Studies 37, no. 4 (December 1976): 567-597 at 581. 23 Origins 15, no. 44 (17 April 1986): 723, and Origins 14, no. 30 (10 January 1985): 498. First Response A his mystical experience at the river Cardoner, Ignatius described himself as "another man." As Martin Tripole sees things, that personal, fundamental change in a person remains the mission of the Jesuits today, and it is accomplished primarily by the preaching of the gospel. Using his own experience as a teacher of theology at St. Joseph's University, he argues that his job as a Jesuit in this situ-ation is to challenge students to question the values of the soci-ety in which they live, values which are mainly selfish, the values of the "me generation" which sound very much like the values Ignatius describes in the Exercises as those of the enemy: wealth, honor, and pride. The Jesuit does this by teaching his students the beauty of a life based on the beatitudes. But Tripole's concern is that this mission has been upstaged by an emphasis on social justice in the Society of Jesus since the days of its 32nd General Congregation and the publication of its famous document "Our Mission Today: The Service of Faith and the Promotion of Justice." The unfortunate consequence of this has been a lapse of memory. Jesuits have forgotten that social jus-tice depends--at least for the Christian--on a personal conversion to Jesus' understanding and way of life. What this means con-cretely in the situation of Jesuit schools is that Jesuits do not chal-lenge the secular values which students are taught as members of American society, but are content to teach them that they are good Christians if they volunteer their time or money to some good social cause. Thus Tripole sees the present emphasis in Jesuit schools on service, learning, and volunteering as deficient. It does not get at the root of the matter. It does not challenge and change the val- September-October 199~ 665 Tripole ¯ The Roots of Faith-and-Justice ues of students, their sense of themselves. It does not pay sufficient attention to the gospel itself. He admits that it is always hard to preach the gospel authen-tically. Teachers who want to challenge the values of their stu-dents have to examine their own as well. The social-justice approach, on the other hand, is much easier. It deals with action, The present emphasis in Jesuit schools on service, learning, and volunteering does not get at the root of the matter. It does not challenge and change the values of students, their sense of themselves. not values. It is acceptable to the larger society. It does not require great soul-searching. In short, it is a work, something external, whereas the preaching of the gospel demands first of all the changing of one's heart and mind and soul. And here Tripole can call on Ignatius for support. Ignatius was convinced that any permanent and worthwhile result must begin with the interior of the person and work from there out to external action. The social-justice approach, on the other hand, does not work that way. It begins and ends with external actions and leaves hearts untouched. So Tripole is calling for a return of the Jesuits to an emphasis on the preaching of the gospel. The effort to create a just society will follow from this preaching. But it is the observance of this proper order-- faith first, then works--which he sees as having been lost by those who have made faith and justice synonymous. Unless this primary emphasis on the gospel itself is main-tained, Trii~ole fears, Jesuits will become simply social workers. Moreover, many of their traditional works, since they will not be able to justify themselves as works of social justice, will be aban-doned. Higher education, at least in some of its disciplines, say mathematics, would be on this list~ For how can the work of a Jesuit professor of math be understood and justified as a work of social justice? As he sees it, the commitment of the Jesuits to justice as the criterion for its service of faith was the result of the spirit of the times, the late 1960s and early '70s, the time when society at large and the Society of Jesus were in a crisis of self-identity, when 666 Review for Religious eight hundred Jesuits left the Society each year, many perhaps because they found the priesthood a hindrance rather than a help in their attempts to do justice. Moreover, such efforts have not produced a better world. Thus he would claim that it is now time to correct this mistake, to put justice in its place, and to get back to preaching the gospel and thereby building what those who emphasized social justice wanted to build but failed to build, a more just world. Tripole's argumentation is appealing. How could any Christian deny that he or she wants to preach the gospel and believes in the beauty and truthfulness of the life Jesus describes in the beat-itudes? But then the question emerges: Must not the preaching of the gospel be fruitful? And what kind of fruit is called for today? Ignatius was a practical man. He looked at his situation and then decided how to bring the gospel to effective expression. What then is the effective expression of the gospel demanded of Christians today? It is the building of a just society for our world. Therefore Jesuits should be involved in it. And the only difference between this effort 'today and the efforts of Ignatius and earlier Jesuits is that Jesuits today recognize that economic structures are morally charged and changeable. Thus their effort to change them is simply the modern way of preaching the gospel effec-tively. It is the concrete application of the gospel to the situation at hand. And whether this effort is labeled integral to or consti-tutive of or essential to the gospel is really secondary. But it itself is necessary. Otherwise faith stands convicted as dead. Gerald F. Finnegan sJ Assistant professor of theology St. Joseph's University Second Response InmUSt agree with Father Tripole's suggestion that we need a ew formula to express the Society's understanding of its works, goals, and overall mission. Furthermore, I support the proposition that the varied apostolic endeavors of Jesuits are most likely to be both accurately described and properly justified by September-October 199Y 667 Tripole ¯ The Roots of Faitb-and-3~ustice the formulary which calls us to "the service of faith through the promotion of a Christian and human culture." It seems to me that to leave unchallenged and unchanged GC32's statement that the mission of the Society is "the service of faith, of which the promotion of justice is an absolute require-ment" brings us face-to-face with a task which I am not sure is either valid or necessary. It seems also to be a task which smacks too much of the kind of enterprise taken up by Procrustes. For staying simply with GC32's formulary seems to suggest either that we have to cut the legs out from under certain of our apostolates or that we have to stretch mightily our understanding of what justice is all about and of what in fact it takes in order for a work of the Society to be considered as one which is promotive of that justice. If I understand GC32's formulary correctly, when it says that the promotion of justice is an absolute requirement for the service of faith, it means that unless we are promoting justice we are not serving faith. To me the truth of this idea is neither obvious nor necessary. If ultimately we Jesuits are called to work for the sal-vation of human beingsand if faith is a sine qua non for salvation, then clearly the focus of our concern and labor must be on estab-lishing and enhancing the conditions which make it possible, and even easier for individuals to respond affirmatively to the initia-tive of God's love and grace in their lives. Clearly, one way in which the atmosphere conducive to the birth and flourishing of faith is created is by seeing to it that God is not lost in the exhaustive scramble that takes place when vari-ously marginalized and oppressed people must scratch and claw their way through situations in which their basic human rights are denied and their personal dignity is violated. In light of the full richness of the meaning of redemption--namely, that human beings are saved as whole persons, as spirit and body--it makes eminent sense to say that we as Jesuits must have concern not only for the spiritual well-being of others, but also for their tem-poral or material welfare. Indeed, I seriously do.ubt that the Good News of salvation can be effectively shared without our seriously attending to somehow improving the human condition. But I must maintain ~hat there are other valid and necessary ways for Jesuits to work in the service of faith without being insen-sitive to prevalent injustices or varying forms of oppression and without in any way doing an end-around run in the face of any social or political realities which affront human dignity. There '668 Review for Religious are simply other ways to serve faith besides promoting justice, and there is absolutely no guarantee that the effect of promoting justice is the service of faith. In itself, promoting justice does not necessarily serve faith. Promoting justice may indeed be a way for us as Jesuits to work out our salvation, but promoting justice in .itself may do nothing or little to encourage and facilitate the sal-vation of others, which is pre-cisely what we Jesuits are supposed to be about. I am all for more equity and less oppression and injustice, but when people become temporally and materially better off, then what? Working to improve the material and human status of others is noble and necessary, but it is not our ultimate work and not our final norm for apos-tolic involvement. Working to ensure that people come to have more of the good things of life is fine, but the message must be loud and clear that "the more" is to be used and enjoyed "tan-tum quantum," that is, only insofar as it serves to establish and enhance union with God. In other words, the good things of life are meant simply to help us, all of us, on our return journey to God. This means that all of us have to live and prosper in the light of God's reign. And so, although there is reason to rejoice if the poor become less poor and less oppressed and less forgotten and less powerless as a result of our Society's labors, nonetheless, it seems to me that the joy for us as Jesuits might well be tempered or conditioned until we know the answer to this question: Have these same people, newly lib-erated from the chains of injustice and oppression, remained resis-tant to the strong temptations to self-complacency and self-assertion which already lead so many of us to ignore provid-ing a place for God in our lives? I am left with these two questions: (1) Would it not be more honest and reflective of the actual work of the Society to expand Promoting justice may indeed be a way for us as Jesuits to work out our salvation, but promoting justice in itself may do nothing or little to encourage and facilitate the salvation of others, which is precisely what we Jesuits are supposed to be about. September-October 199~ 669 Tripole ¯ The Roo~s of Faith-and-Justice the formula articulated by GC32? and (2)What exactly would be lost by such an expansion? Vincent J. Genovesi Professor of Christian ethics St. Joseph's University Third Response The Mission of Jesus and Our Mission Today Somewhat serendipitously, the liturgical readings for the Sunday following the weekend discussion reported in these pages were eas-ily related to the theme of the discussion. 14/-hat follows is an adap-tation of the homily given in the St. Joseph 's University Chapel for the third Sunday of year C. Local references have been elim-inated. A few words have been added from the 34th General Congregation, which was in session at the time. Wlive in a time when everyone seems to be writing mis- V V sion statements--schools, parishes, religious orders and communities, organizations of all sorts. At their best, these state-ments address, in a fresh and updated way, who we are and what we are about. One such effort has been the recent 34th General Congregation of the. Society of Jesus, a gathering of about 230 Jesuits from around the world, attempting to say what it means to be a Jesuit in 1995. Another recent effort had members of Congress proclaiminga "Contract with America" on the same front steps of the Capitol where presidents deliver their inaugu-ral addresses. In today's readings from Scripture, we have two similar expe-riences. Nehemiah (8:2ff) and Luke (4:14-21) probably would not know what we mean by mission statement, but in fact Ezra and Nehemiah are proElaiming a mission statement for the Jews who have returned from exile in Babylonia, and Luke has Jesus at the beginning of his publiF life proclaiming his mission statement, his statement of who he is and what he was about. As we listen, we are obviously challenged to ask who we are and what are we about. About 350 B.C. the Jews had returned from Babylon to reestablish themselve~s in Jerusalem, but they were confused, much 670 Review for Religious like today's resettled and repatriated refugees, and they needed leaders to help them to find themselves. Ezra the priest is trying to renew them spiritually, and Nehemiah is trying to renew them politically and socially. Ezra and Nehemiah together remind them of their roots as the people of God by reading the Law, the compilation of God's revelation to them and their traditions as the Jewish people. They redis-cover themselves in their roots and come together as community. From a murmuring, discouraged gro.up of individuals, they become a believing, worshiping community. In the Gospel, Luke is introducing Jesus at the beginnifig of his ministry. He too reaches back to roots, Jesus' roots in the Suffering Servant of Isaiah, to describe who Jesus is and what he is about. He is to bring glad tidings to the poor, to proclaim lib-erty to captives, sight to the blind--probably not wha~ his hear-ers expected to hear. Various scripture scholars point out that Luke's Jesus inher-ited the social realism of the Israel into which he was born. He would have seen his people surrounded by various degrees of bondage, oppression, and poverty, and he would have seen the alleviation of this situation as an intrinsic part of their salvation and, therefore, of his mission. He would go about transforming social systems in a distinc-tive way. For disciples he chooses not the socially influential, .but the powerless and, in Matthew's case the despised. He reveals a predilection for little pe6ple, the least favored. He uses power riot to dominate, but to free and to serve. He follows, in fact goes far beyond, the model of the Suffering Servant, who gave his life so that his people might live. As we listen to Nehemiah and to Luke, we are being chal-lenged to spell out our mission statement as Christian commu-nity in 1995. Will it sound more like Jesus in the synagogue or more like the Contract for America on the steps of the Capitol? We live at a time when men and women all around us-- Democrats, Republicans, Perotians, and whatever--are ti~rning their backs on the poor, on immigrants (legal and illegal), and even on victims of violence and abuse. Lest we blame this on politicians, remember that all too often they are simply telling us what polls sugge.st we want to hear. Much of this mean-spirited agenda is supposedly what white mid-dle- class males and the "Christian Coalition" want. We hear that Septentber-October 199~ 671 Tripole ¯ The Roots of Faitb-and-3~ce we have done enough for those on welfare, the poor, and "for-eigners." Now we must look out for ourselves, get ours first, save America first. We h~ve done enough for "them." Let "them" now help themselves. What would Jesus say to us if he were beginning his public mission here in this chapel today? Are there any fewer poor than in his day? Of course not. The number is now in the billions. In this country, the richest in the world, one of every five children is poor arid faces a lifetime of poverty. Imagine what this means in wasted humanity. Are there any fewer captives? Of course not. There are over 45 million refugees and displaced persons in the world, 80 percent of them women and children, trapped in violence, oppression, meaning-lessness. Are there fewer blind? Of course not. We see millions suffering from physical, spiritual, and intellectual blindness of every kind. The big difference between 2000 years ago and today is that we, not Jesus, are challenged to open up the scroll and make Isaiah's words ours. Thirty years ago Vatican II situated the church, not on the m~untaintop above all of the turmoil of the human condition, but down in the trenches with women and men struggling to live in the midst of that turmoil: "The joys and the hopes, the griefs and the anxieties of the men of this age, especially those who are poor or in any way afflicted, these too are the joys and hopes, the griefs and anxieties of the followers of Christ" (Gaudium et spes, §1). Twenty years ago the Society of Jesus spoke of its mission as the "service of faith, of which the promotion of justice is an absolute requirement"; since then, Jesuits and their colleagues have been trying to spell out what that means. It is sometimes said that the church's (and the Society of Jesus') interest in justice questions and in the poor is a remnant of the '60s and '70s and that it is a third-world issue not necessarily relevant to us today. We are told that we need to broaden our agenda and move on to other issues. But we have to be blind not to see that injustice, poverty, and oppression are as prevalent today as in the '60s and '70s, if not more so, and that we in the "first" world, with our own problems of violence, abuse, and neglect, are not that much more devel-oped than the "third" world. Thus it is that the recent Jesuit general congregation did not weaken, but rather strongly reaffirmed, the 1975 commitment to 672 Review for Religious a "radical life of faith that finds expression in the promotion of jus-tice for all." The international and cultural context for this com-mitment is spelled out in much greater detail, and the fundamental importance of faith is emphasized, in these words of the 34th General Congregation: "The aim of our mission., is the service of faith. The integrating principle of our mission is the inseparable link between faith and the promo-tion of the justice of the kingdom" (Interim Documents, p. 5). Work on behalf of justice is linked to the work of evangeliza-tion, inculturation, and interreli-gious dialogue. The agenda is broadened to include human rights, the sanctity of human life, the global interdependence of peoples and the environment. Within such a perspective, this is hardly the time to retreat from the mission of Jesus, "to bring glad tidings to the poor, to proclaim liberty to the captive, to give sight to the blind." Rather, it is a time to stay the course in the face of an ever more expansive agenda before us. Paul's letter to the Corinthians gives us an important insight for the ongoing task. In the Body of Christ, each of us has a different contribution to make, so that the It is sometimes said that the church's interest in justice questions and in the poor is a remnant of the '60s and '70s and that it is a third-world issue not necessarily relevant to us today. But we have to be blind not to see that injustice, poverty, and oppression are as prevalent today as in the '60s and '70s, if not more 20. total, collective effort may be successful. None of us can be involved in every cause for justice which comes to our attention, but a reading of the Gospels, the documents of Vatican II, and our most recent Jesuit congregational documents would argue that v~e need to be involved in at least one. We can pursue justice in various ways. Some of us will be more the activist, some more reflective. Many strengths are needed to solve the problems we face: the persistent work of the activist, the careful analysis of the scholar, the concerned prayer of the contemplative. September-October 199Y 673 Tripole ¯ The Roots of Faitb-and-3~stice Perhaps in the .past we have been too sweeping and too sim-plistic in our emphasis on justice; It is interesting to note one very moving exchange on the floor of the Jesuit congregation betweeri Latin Americans and those from formerly Communist countries. Both groups acknowledged how they had misread each other's motives in the past. There is no doubt that work for justice needs to be combined with strong faith if it is to be most fruitful for the kingdom and if we are to have the strength we need for the long haul. Work for justice needs to be combined with caring love if it is not to become harsh and vindictive. It needs to be part of an effort to transform culture, inculturate gospel values, if it is to have lasting, widespread significance. It must be linked to a total effort at evan-gelization for the same reason. Each of us will be able to bring one or more of these strengths to the table, each plays a different role within a complex agenda. The endless agenda left to us by Jesus, and made more explicit in the church in recent years, leaves more than enough for each of us to do in integrating faith and justice in our lives. Charles L. Currie SJ Adjunct professor of theology St. Joseph's University Many foreign missionaries depend upon people like you who donate subscriptions for them to Review for Religious. To start a subscription for a deserving missionary, please send $24 to: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Blvd. ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108 To pay by credit card, phone: 314-977-7363. 674 Review for Religious JUDE D. WEISENBECK Ecumenism a Scripture Mandate for Religious Our theme's images of "weaving" and "fabric" are indeed captivating as they relate to our present purpose. The theme affirms that the ecumenical vision, far from being an optional and ancillary dimension of religious life (or, holding to the image, a hem or a fringe), is so integral to our vocation that removing it would run the risk of caus-ing the entire garment to unravel. I hope here to focus reflection. To accomplish this, I believe we need to move away from the natural tendency to ask, "In what ways can religious communities contribute to the goals of the ecumenical movement?" and toward that self-understanding whereby we recognize ecumenism as being at the very heart of what it means to be a reli-gious. Promoting Christian unity is not merely something that is appropriate for religious to be engaged in; it is so integral to our way of life that religious life without an ecumenical thrust would be like religious life without a love for the poor or without concern for peace and justice issues. Undoubtedly an immediate reaction on the part of some might very well be: "Spoken like a true ecumaniac! Jude D. Weisenbeck SDS presented the following (here slightly revised) as the keynote address at the national consultation (Albuquerque, New Mexico; 28-30 April 1995) of men and women religious engaged in ecumenism. He is the director of the Office of Ecumenism for the Archdiocese of Louisville. He may be addressed at Flaget Center; 1935 Lewiston Drive; Louisville, Kentucky 40216. ecumenism September-October 1995 675 Weisenbeck ¯ Ecumenism a Scripture Mandate for Religious Sharing life to the fullest is what I mean by wholeness. In turn I think of the ecumenical movement as promoting the sharing of life. Turn them loose and they will try to make ecumaniacs out of all of us." Please do not respond in that way without first hearing me out. The perspective embraced here rests upon three simple but firmly held convictions: (1) The Scriptures call Christians to wholeness in all of its marvelous dimensions. (2) Religious life is about responding to this call to wholeness in an especially com-mitted way. (3) The ecumenical movement is fundamentally about restoring wholeness to the entire family of God's people. I agree with Michael Kinnamon who, in various recent talks, tenders his conviction that unity is at the very heart of the Good News. It is not one among many themes, nor is it peripheral; it is central to all that the gospel stands for. In the plan of God, shared life is the norm, and it is division that needs explanation. Sharing life to the fullest is what I mean by wholeness. In turn I think of the ecumenical move-ment as promoting the sharing of life. This is a positive idea and an ideal toward which the Scriptures constantly call us. As per-vasive as brokenness may be in our experience, it is still a depar-ture from the norm. Brokenness is something to be deplored, not something to be taken for granted, much less accepted. For reflec-tive sages of centuries past, it was very disconcerting to find our world full of conflict, pain, and suffering. This needed an expla-nation. They concluded that it could not have come from God and is not part of God's original plan. Broken bodies lack wholeness. Divided families lack whole-ness. Communities split apart by dissension and conflict lack wholeness. The church, fragmented into thousands of denomi-nations, lacks wholeness. All of these are in some ways similar to the pieces of a puzzle still in the box. Everything that is needed to complete the picture is there, but until they are put together in their proper relationships, the puzzle just is not a complete pic-ture. It lacks wholeness. I would like to explore this scriptural call to wholeness in somewhat greater detail. The first image I offer for considera- 676 Review for Religious tion is one from the Book of Genesis. What do we find there? We find the creation story, a story about bringing harmony out of chaos. Consider the elements in this image: ¯ the earth was without form and void; ¯ darkness was over the face of the abyss; ° a mighty wind swept over the surface of the waters. We have an image of darkness, formlessness, emptiness, tur-bulence. Enter God bearing gifts: ° light in regulated rotation for night and day; ¯ the ordered relationship of water and dry land; ¯ fertility, resulting in fresh growth, seeds, fruit, young animals, and children; ¯ water, teeming with countless creatures and moistening the dry earth; ¯ an enormous diversity of plants and animals sharing life in harmony: fish for the seas, birds for the air, animals for the land; ° the human species, man and woman, sharing their life in their own wonderful diversity; ¯ the harmonious ordering of all things, each in its own designed relationship to all other creatures. A primary image of the entire story is that of shared life in all its goodness. God shares the divine life through creation; all crea-tures share the divine gifts with each other. Shared life is the norm. Conversely, death, confusion, shame enter when life is no longer shared. Adam and Eve decide to take what is not theirs, and the rest is history. The Hebrew Bible and Jewish tradition to this very day are rich in their contributions to this theme, as is evidenced by that remarkable document entitled "Guidelines for the Catechetical Presentation of Jews and Judaism in the New Testament" issued in 1986 by the United States Catholic Conference. A few pas-sages will suffice to illustrate the point: The Jewish understanding of God's reign is of universal harmony and wholeness (shalom), in which all the peoples of the earth will gather to worship God. This understanding of the End toward which all human history is oriented pro-vides a constant and present challenge to Christians and Jews (for example, Is 2:11 and Is 25; Mi 4:4). (Dr. Eugene September-October 199Y 677 Weisenbeck * Ecumenism a So4pture Mandate for Religious J. Fisher and Rabbi Leon Klenicki, In Our Time, p. 64) This sense of wholeness and unity is intended to mark both the hearing of God's word in the synagogue and the festive Sabbath meal in the home (p. 65). The great Jewish festivals underscore in different ways this constant journeying toward wholeness (p. 65). Elizabeth Johnson echoes these sentiments when she com-ments on both the Hebrew tradition and the New Testament: At the heart of [Jesus'] preaching was the symbol of the reign of God. Taken from the Hebrew tradition, this sym-bol signifies what the state of affairs will be when God is recognized as the One on whom everyone sets their hearts, when God finally reigns . The reign of God is the situ-ation that results when God's will is really done. VV-hat is God's will? As revealed in Jesus, God's will is our well-being. God wants the wholeness, the healing, and the salvation of every creature and of all of us taken together. The reign of God, then, involves justice and peace among everyone, heal-ing and wholeness everywhere, fullness of life enjoyed by all. It is what the Scriptures call the situation of shalom, peace experienced not only as the absence of war but peace as the fullness of life. (Consider Jesus, pp. 51-52) When an ecumenist quotes Scripture, especially the New Testament, one normally expects that John 17:20-23 (Christ's famous prayer for unity) will be cited. It is, of course, a beautiful and appropriate prayer. However, it is not the only New Testament passage with ecumenical significance. I would like to suggest that John 10:10 is also very much to the point. Christ says, "I have come that humankind may have life, and may have it in all its fullness." This statement is set in sharp contrast to the work of the thief who comes to steal, kill, and destroy. It is within this context--that we may have life in all its full-ness- that Jesus' preoccupation with healing must be understood. One of the most pervasive images of the gospel is that of Christ engaged in healing. This includes not only physical healing, but also the healing of minds and hearts and souls. The stories of the woman at the well, of Nicodemus, of the forgiveness of sins, and of the resurrection itself are all instances of the healing of minds, hearts, and souls. Living life and sharing life to the fullest are the norm; it is brokenness ~nd division that are the exceptions and departures from the norm. 678 Review for Religious This naturally brings us to my second firm conviction, namely, that religious life is about seeking wholeness. For religious life is about living the Gospels in the most perfect way possible. We call it responding to the evangelical counsels. We take this so seriously that we make public vows to God to do so. We respond to the call to bring wholeness into our own personal lives and to bring wholeness to a very broken world. During the past couple of years I have been involved with a project at the Cathedral of the Assumption in Louisville, Kentucky, called Caring for the Soul of the Community. This ecumenical project explores spirituality from a wide range of per-spectives, and it leads me to conclude that, for almost all people, spirituality is an attempt to get in touch with ultimate goodness. It is a desire to possess life in all its fullness, the life which Jesus promises us. It is that yearning for wholeness. Is that not what religious life also is about? And what stands in the way of possessing life in all its fullness is the same today as in the Garden of Eden--the refusal to share life. It is the incli-nation to take for ourselves what does not entirely belong to us or to keep for ourselves what is designed to be shared. We live out our lives in community, not only the immediate community of our religious sisters and brothers, but the larger communities making up our church and ultimately the entire fam-ily of God. Consequently, our concern for wholeness must extend beyond ourselves to the various circles of larger communities of which we are a part. Individually we can never be fully whole unless the entire community is whole. Our call, then, is to seek wholeness for the entire community. This brings us to my third basic conviction, that the ecu-menical movement is a response to the call to seek wholeness for the entire Christian community we call the church. The church is broken, fragmented, divided. Healing this brokenness, this frag-mentation, this dividedness and bringing wholeness to the church are what the ecumenical movement is all about. This has to be a matter of grave concern to those who take the gospel seriously. Members of religious communities may not take the broken-ness and the dividedness of the church for granted any more than we may take poverty and injustice for granted. The entire church suffers, and the people for whom the church is a sacrament of Christ's love suffer, when doctrinal differences and other dis-agreements divide members of the church one from another. Septe~tber-October 199Y 679 Weisenbeck ¯ Ecumenism a Scripture Mandate for Religious A divided church is both a scandal and a handicap. It is a scan-dal because persons professing the kind of conversion required by baptism prefer to go their separate ways rather than to continue in dialogue and prayer until irreconcilable church-dividing con-troversies are settled. It is a handicap because the life of the church and the life-giving powers of the church are not fully and mutu-ally shared both by its members among themselves and with those who need the church that they may live life to the fullest. Is not a failure to reach out in love to those separated from us in some sense a failure to live our vow of poverty to the fullest? We keep for ourselves what should be shared with others. Is not our failure to attempt to enter into relationship with other Christians who are not in communion with us a kind of disre-gard for our vow of chastity? Instead of observing celibate chastity for the sake of freeing ourselves to cultivate the numerous other relationships required for a healthy Body of'Christ, we retreat into a celibacy of aloneness in which shared life is seriously inhib-ited. And our vow of obedience: here is where the prayer of Christ for unity is disregarded if we fail to take seriously the mandate to work for unity both within and among the Christian communities. If a divided church is both a scandal and a handicap, then also a religious not concerned for the unity of the Body of Christ is an anomaly. Life cannot he lived to the fullest without sharing life. Promoting unity among Christians is both a mandate of the Sacred Scriptures and an integral part of the very fabric of reli-gious life. Kansas Sunflower bright and bold nodding in the breeze splash of color; smile of God sunshine for the road. Mary E. Penrose OSB 680 Review for Religiou~ BERNARD SEIF Too Deep for Dogma ~otnieS y oenalry bfeivfoe rme itlhees afowuanyd ainndg foofu onudre do wasn r elictetlnet lmy oasn a1s9t8e6ry, .j uAst bit of divine synchronicity, I often wondered--now I know it was much more than just a bit, it was a gloriously large dose. The juxtaposition of the two communities has led to great joy and new life for many people, clear signs of the intervention and presence of our Creator. I always knew the ashram, which is what I will call Arsha Vidya Gurukulam for purposes of simplicity, was nearby, Ashram is a generic term for a spiritual community in the Hindu tradition, much like a monastery in the Christian tradition. A gurukulam, more specifically, is a very special Hindu community where one or more gurus (also called swamis) live and teach, passing on the wisdom of revelation, holy scripture, the practice of meditation, and so forth. Not only did I know that the ashram was nearby, but I knew that it resonated with what seemed to be an ageless long-ing within me for a deeper experien.ce of Eastern traditions. Thomas Merton's love of the East had long nourished a similar love within me. Dom l~ede Griffiths' many years of living and guiding Shantivanam Ashram in south India, wherein Christian and Hindu traditions meet without loss to either tradition, but rather enrichment, long fascinated me. My own energies in more recent years have been spent largely in the foundation and running of the Salesian Monastery. I had, Bernard Seif SMC wrote for our July-August 1992 issue. He continues living .his monastic life and sharing it with others through the practice of clinical psychology and spiritual direction, with part-time ministry at the Jesuit Center for Spiritual Growth. He may b.e addressed at the Salesian Monastery; HC 1, Box 455, Frantz Road; Brodheadsville, Pennsylvania 18322-9630. Septentber-October 199Y 681 Seif ¯ Too Deep for Dogma however, wandered onto the property of the ashram a few times during those years, but did not get too far. Most of that was due to my own timidity. On one reconnoitering I spoke with a teenage boy who had stopped on his bike for some reason along one of the paths. We felt a warm and lively connection. We chatted for five or ten minutes and then both of us left, happy for the encounter. The only prob-lem was that the boy was speaking Hindi and I was speaking English. Neither of us understood, on a surface level, a word of what the other was saying. Deep in our hearts, however, we knew that there was a connection. Such is the kind of connection or dia-logue which I would like to present and encourage in this all too brief. Once when one of my sisters, who is a Sister of St. Joseph of Chestnut Hill, Philadelphia, was visiting our monastery with a mutual friend, another Sister of St. Joseph, we traveled over to the flea market situated on the grounds of a drive-in theater across from the ashram. My hidden agenda was to get the three of us over to the ashram and explore it a bit. After purchasing some discount cereal and dented cans of decaffeinated coffee, we walked across the road and onto the property. This time I caught a glimpse of the top of the temple on our way and was able to fol-low the paths which lid to it. Peering in the windows we could see a few hundred people sitting peacefully on the floor. I was hooked. I needed to be in there. As we went to an entrance, a smiling man with an Indian accent welcomed us and encouraged us to go into the temple. Before I knew it we all had our shoes off, had left our recently purchased items out in the hall, and were sitting on the floor before a man dressed in orange robes who spoke in English and every once in a while sang something in Sanskrit which the community repeated. I was mesmerized. My sister, on the other hand, was mesmerized by the hole in my white running sock. The gathering began to break up for lunch; I wanted to stay but knew I had my visitors to attend to, and so we left to con-tinue o.ur journey even though we were assured of a welcome at lunch with the ashram community. Tha.t night as I sat quietly reviewing the day, thinking and praying about its events, I picked up some of the literature I had taken from the ashram. There was a sheet of paper announcing some classes being given by Swami Tadatamananda with a little picture of him printed on it. Mthough I had never met him, did not even know if he spoke English, I 682 Review for Religious knew at some very deep level that we would become good friends, and so it has come to be. After a weekend students' class, which the Sunday morning lectures are called, I introduced myself to "Swami T," as people affectionately call him. There was an immediate smile of recog-nition when I mentioned who I was. He had read about our monastery in the newspaper a year or two before and had saved the article to look us up one day. Knowing how precious the gift of time is, I am always cautious about taking up the time of another and thought of keeping our encounter brief. The swami, however, made me feel so wel-come that we sat down and had coffee and talked for a long time. The upshot of that meeting is that our community is graced with his presence on a regular basis, coming to us several times a week for Evening Prayer (and sometimes Eucharist), dinner, chapter, and some private time together. During this time I tutor the swami a bit in counsel-ing (I am a clinical psychologist), and he teaches me Vedic chant-ing. We have shared our spiritual journeys with one another and experience an ease and honesty which brings joy to our hearts. Both of our communities are supportive of our relationship. The other monastics and our associate members enjoy the swami's presence, and the sharing of our spiritual heritages (which often is experienced as one heritage) is mutually enriching. In fact, Swami T has now become an associate member of the monastery. More recently Swami Dayananda, founder of the ashram and a venerated teacher throughout the world, asked me to come and speak at a Christmas gathering in their community about Christ and Christmas. What a thrill it was to offer the Good News in an atmosphere of mutual dialogue and respect. No one was or is trying to convert the other. We are simply shar- Before I knew it we all had our shoes off, had left our recently purchased items out in the hall, and were sitting on the floor before a man dressed in orange robes who spoke in English and every once in a while sang something in Sanskrit which the community repeated. September-October 1995 683 Seif ¯ Too Deep for Dogma ing our experience of the sacred and finding a profound unity therein. Such is the experience of a group that has long been dia-loguing on this deeper level of prayer, rather than on dogma, called the Monastic Interreligious Dialogue.~ This group is made up primarily of Hindu, Buddhist, and Catholic monastics from throughout the world. My friends and my spiritual director tell me that they see my excitement as I talk about this part of my spiritual journey. They see the life that it brings to me and others. I sometimes expect them to say something like "What next?" yet they encourage me to continue on in the way that the Lord is leading me these days. With a grateful heart I must admit that I too wonder "What next?" Yet what does it matter? My recent spiritual experiences have helped me to live, better than ever, in the spirit of our Salesian charism peacefully in the present moment. The day that manifested the reality of East-West dialogue which is carried on at a level deeper than dogma occurred shortly before Christmas when the Salesian Monastery and the ashram held a joint puja (Hindu worship service) at the monastery. The form was totally Hindu and the content totally Christian. The service enacts the welcoming of an honored guest. Oil lamps blazed in the oratory as incense and flowers were offered. We chanted the doxology in Sanskrit. Hindu and Christian alike touched foreheads to the ground before the Blessed Sacrament. Even the newspaper reporter eventually took off his shoes, respecting the holy ground on which we stood. The presence of God was palpable in the oratory, and I saw tears glisten in the eyes of my friend at one point. There was absolutely no division among us. We were all experiencing the same God. In conclusion, I encourage fidelity to one's faith tradition as well as all forms of dialogue, but I believe that we cannot wait to hammer out agreements on paper. Praying and meditating together is a form of dialogue which bonds us without any need to leave the tradition one comes from. Nor does it create a hybrid religion. When one is properly grounded, there is no threat of these things happening. Rather, it takes us deeper into the won-der of who we truly are to the Source from which we all come. Note ~ A bulletin is available; write Bulletin of Monastic Interreligious Dialogue; Abbey of Gethsemani; 3642 Monks Road; Trappist, Kentucky 40051. 684 Re~v~ iew for Religious CURT CADORETTE Catholicism in the Social Order of a New Era On I0 April 1995 Newsweek, a weather vane of American middle-class sensibilities, displayed a close-up picture of Pope John Paul II on its cover. The pre-Holy Week edition fea-tured an analysis of the pope's recent encyclical, Evangelium vitae, a lengthy and important document that calls into question the ethical assumption of the developed world or, from John Paul's vantage point, the lack thereof. Calling for the creation of "a cul-ture of life" rather than "a culture of death," the pope criticizes the materialism of the developed world, birth control, abortion, euthanasia, and capital punishment. The encyclical is unprece-dented in its intensity and cohesion. Social analysis, characteris-tic of his early encyclicals such as Laborem exercens, is linked with reflection on personal and social ethics, a theme in his more recent writings. In the pope's estimation, we stand on the brink of catas-trophe, tempted by nihilism and violence that already claim mil-lions of victims every year and may destroy us all if left unchecked. In Evangelium vitae John Paul is a social analyst and social ethi-cist. He calls on individuals and societies to reflect deeply on their behav, ior and the contemporary social order, affirming what is good and rectifying what is deficient in the light of humankind's innate dignity and transcendence. His plea is that we see and treat each other as God-given gifts rather than as opponents or objects and thus counteract the destructive violence that afflicts us. Curt Cadorette NIM holds the John Henry Newman chair in Roman Catholic Studies at the University of Rochester. His address is 430 Rush Rhees Library; University of Rochester; Rochester, New York 14627. September-October 199Y 685 Cadorette ¯ Catbolicis~n in the Social Order The common wisdom that Roman Catholicism is nothing more than its hierarchy, or even the dominant Christian church in the Western world, is wrong, both theologically and demographically. The reactions to the encyclical were equally predictable, from "challenging" to "monstrous." Some critics pointed to the pope's nai'vet4 about free-market economics and the inevitability of casu-alties in a rough-and-tumble world. Some members of the pro-choice movement characterized the encyclical as another exercise in Catholic misogyny. Since the encyclical's critics had to read and analyze 198 pages of heavy prose in just a few days, we can assume that their analyses require further refinement. In any event, Newsweek proves that the title of this article is germane. Catholicism is a national and international part of the social order. Some rejoice, some lament, but none can deny that a religious insti-tution with nearly a billion peo-ple is a significant force in the contemporary world. However one assesses the current papacy, (and prudent analysts are advised to wait several decades before deciding its historical fate) there can be no doubt that John Paul II has helped make the Catholic Church a more significant interlocutor in social dis-course. Beyond the shallow categorizations of John Paul's ideas lie a great deal of thought, analysi;, and passionate concern about the modern world. Of course, many people, including loyal Catholics, disagree with some of his ideas. H+ speaks from a Eurocentric vantage point and understands the institutional church in a profoundly hierarchical way. Like all of us, he has his contradictions. He feels others' pains but refuses to deal with aspects of the institutional church that sometimes cause pain. Although he is a student of modernity, he is essentially a medieval man. The memory of Christendom seems to control his imagi-nation and make him deeply wary of post-Enlightenment plural-ism. He questiofis a civilization predicated on materialism, convinced that a return to Christian values can somehow rem-edy our global ills. Although many people resonate with his crit- 686 Review for Religious icism of modernity, many also question his vision of Christendom, in large part because of the historical record of the church itself. Institutional Catholicism suffers from a credibility problem. Fortunately, the question of credibility is being addressed by ordi-nary Catholics who are remaking the church to which they belong. We need to focus on these people as much as on the papal persona to understand what contemporary Catholicism is really all about and how it affects the social order. "Real" Catholicism Media images of Catholicism, of course, are only marginally accurate. In today's world, news has been commercialized. It is sold in package form to consumers who pick and choose accord-ing to their tastes. More troubling, however, is the erroneous assertion that what the media calls Catholicism is Catholicism. Impression to the contrary, popes, bishops, and priests, as well as the church in the United States, are only a tin.y part of what is now one of the most culturally, linguistically, and politically diverse rgligious institutions in the world today. The common wisdom that Roman Catholicism is nothing more than its hier-archy, or even the dominant Christian church in the Western wo~ld, is wrong, both theologically and demographically. Such assumptions have been incorrect since the 1960s when the center of gravity in Catholicism moved from the developed to the devel-oping world. The bishop of Rome now presides over a religious community that is more African, Asian, and Latin American than American and European. Catholicism is undergoing profound internal change as millions of non-Western people, most of whom are economically poor and politically marginalized, enter its ranks as full members. In effect, Catholicism is becoming more catholic with all the growing pains and confusion such expansion entails. The "in" words these days among Catholic theologians are con-textualization and inculturation, that is, how to take the basic insights of the Catholic tradition, translate and then transplaht them in the different soil of the developing, non-Western world. Contextualization and inculturation are well under way. New vari-eties of Catholicism are emerging that are making the Catholic community, locally and globally, a stronger, more credible force. To understand correctly the role Catholicism plays and will play in the social order it is imPerative to look beyond its leaders September-October 1995 687 Cadorette ¯ Catholicism in the Social Order and institutional structures. The heart and soul of Catholicism has been and always will be the people who make up the Catholic community. Today that means hundreds of millions of people in the developing world whose culture, economic values, and polit-ical traditions are vastly different from people in the developed world. In 1979 Karl Rahner, the great Jesuit theologian, tried to assess the significance of Vatican II, a council he helped shape more directly than any other theologian. Rahner recognized that Vatican II, great achievement that it was, really marked the end of the "second age" of the church. In his mind, one of the greatest achievements of the council was the fact that it gave license to non-Western peoples to create new forms of Catholic thought and life consonant with their diverse histories, cultures, and approaches to the sacred. Rahner was convinced that Catholics in the developing world would be able to do new things with their faith that would reen-ergize Catholics in the developed world. Indeed, by the year 2000 almost 70 percent of the world's Catholics will live in the south-ern hemisphere. (In the United States 50 percent of American Catholics will come from so-called minority groups, largely Hispanic and Asian.) This means that Catholicism is about to enter a new "third phase" marked by an unprecedented internal diversity. The globalization of Catholicism is now a fact whose consequences have already altered its internal and external life. New ways of understanding and explaining the Catholic vision have emerged, forever altering theological discourse. Institutional structures, more and more the responsibility of lay women and men, are being recreated. The way the Catholic community responds to its social environment has changed dramatically. In a church made up largely of poor and oppressed people, prophetic challenges to injustice and its corollary, martyrdom, have become commonplace. I want to focus the rest of this article on these changes and what they mean on a deeper level for Catholicism, both internally and as a institution that is part of a global social order. As a postscript we will focus on the American Catholic church and its place in the global scheme of things. Modes of Theologi, cal Discourse Theology was understood in early Christianity as reflective living rather than verbal or written discourse about faith. By the 688 Review for Religiolts third century, however, Christian thinkers were busy devising a sophisticated mode of theological discourse that relied on Hebrew and Christian Scripture as well as classical philosophical language. Isaiah and Jesus, as it were, met Plato and Aristotle. Augustine and Aquinas systematized Christian thought in impressive ways and had a profound impact on Western history. Their theology is structured, logical, deductive, and dualistic. This type of theo-logical discourse has legitimacy, but it also has limitations. Few people can fol-low it other than trained intellectuals and, like all professional languages, it often becomes an end in itself. The problem of Western theological language becomes more acute when non-Western people are involved. Because their cultures and histories are different, Western theology rarely meets their needs. Their faith is strong, but their patience with imported theological discourse is limited. They recognize the difference between the medium and the message and insist on their right to cre-ate theologies that reflect who they are culturally and historically. Perhaps one of the most significant decisions of Vatican II was the. decision to encour-age non-Western Catholics to use their own language and expe-rience to explain their beliefs. This may seem like an innocuous and abstract shift, but it really is quite revolutionary, theologi-cally and politically. Abstract theological language is being replaced by context-specific discourse about faith done by people who confront grinding poverty, injustice, and violence. Suddenly~, theology has become the voice of the voiceless, something it has not been for centuries. It is intellectually and existentially provoca-tive, as well as socially engaged. Since the council grass-roots theological discourse in the developing world has burgeoned. It is now impossible to keep up with the vast amount of theological literature coming out of Latin America, Africa, and Asia. Just as intellectually sophisticated as European and North American material, third world theology nonetheless displays special characteristics, most notably rooted- Perhaps one of the most significant decisions of Vatican II was the decision to encourage non- Western Catholics to use their own language and experience to explain their beliefs. September-October 1995; 689 Cadorette ¯ Catholici~n in the Social Order ness and passion. It draws on many provocative sources--the Hebrew prophets, the Beatitudes, Catholic social teaching, and the day-to-day experience of ordinary people. It is contextualized intense reflection on how faith can help transform society. This new theology, often called liberation theology, is no threat to the integrity of Catholicism. To the contrary, it is a vital component in its survival. It enriches an ancient tradition with a new vocab-ulary and point of reference. As Gustavo Gutidrrez has put it, liberation theology is dis-course on Christian faith done from "the underside of history," a part of the world inhabited by most Catholics, past and present,l Indigenous Catholics in the Andes are beginning to create a the-ology that speaks of their great reverence for the earth, the Pachamaraa, a symbol which speaks of the feminine side of God and the sacredness of the earth as the common womb of life. Korean Christians have incorporated concepts like ban, or trauma-induced anger, and minjung, a word that connotes the spirit and genius of the poor and oppressed, into their theological writing and liturgical life.2 These are signs of energy that instill hope. Western theology will not disappear, but in the third millennium it will be seen as part of a larger whole, one vocabulary and set of images among many. More important is the fact that Catholic theology now reflects the experience of people heretofore over-looked and victimized. Their history and hope are thus kept alive in a social order that often disregards and even kills them. Ecclesial Evolution and Political Society Not only will theological discourse be different in third-mil-lennium Catholicism, community structures and leadership will be too. As peoples create their own varieties of Catholicism they will construct new types of community. For centuries, most Catholics have thought of Catholicism as something that flowed from the top down--from pope, to bishop, to pastor, to parishioner. This model, however, is beginning to change. For more and more peo-ple in both the developing and developed world, Catholic iden-tity is not something conferred by infant baptism, but rather something a person acquires as an adult who enters a believing community, assimilates the tradition, and begins to see him- or herself as part of a larger Catholic whole. Today base communi-ties and even large parishes are made up of people whose self- 690 Review for Religious understanding as Catholic is more intense and articulate. Engagement within the community and the community's rela-tionship to the larger social whole are therefore more focused and consequential. Catholic identity, defying the laws of history and hierarchy, increasingly flows from the bottom up, changing the self-under-standing of the church and its social role. In many parts of the developing world, the Christian community is a real political force. Committed to an incarnational spirituality which insists that God is present in history and nature, members of base com-munities struggle for justice and social transformation in soci-eties scarred by violence and oppression. The Christian churches in South Africa were at the front of the struggle against apartheid struggle. In Haiti base communities provided refuge for the per-secuted and food for the hungry despite military repression. Precisely for this reason, of course, prophetic individuals and committed communities have faced the wrath of the mighty who often brand them as subversive. The label, in fact, is correct since Christianity lived well is subversive. What is really remarkable, however, is the depth and commitment of many Catholic Christians who are willing to risk their lives for their faith and the world they live in. Saints and martyrs abound in contemporary Catholicism. Most of these saints and martyrs are ordinary, name-less people, and that frequently overlooked fact may be the most important political datum in the history of contemporary Catholicism. Their sanctity was gained in Catholic communities intent on doing justice and transforming history. Spirituality As a central part of a person's identity rather than a religio-cultural label, Catholicism serves as a vision or spirituality that helps people achieve a more integral and respectful understand-ing of their own selves as well as a more engaged and positive relationship with the larger world. The incarnation, as central Christian symbol, speaks of God's love and commitment to all human beings, women and men with particular languages and cultures. This symbol validates their specificity. In a world marked by a violent preiudice against the other as inferior by dint of race, class, gender, and culture, the incarnation is both an indictment of such violence and a call for transformation in the institutional Septentber-October 1995 691 Cadorette ¯ Catholicism in the Social Order church and in society. Despite the fact that millions of human beings are deemed nonpersons by oppressive economic and polit-ical systems, a truly Catholic spirituality insists that each of them is a gift because of the incarnate God it believes in. It denounces injustice and makes justice real by accepting these people in all their specificity. Liberating spirituality is not developed abstractly but rather in a living community that is dialectically engaged with the larger world. Base communities address people's brokenness and chal-lenge their members to transform those economic and political forces that oppress them. Much of liberation spirituality revolves around the central symbol in Jesus' life and mission, the reign of God. As contemporary scripture scholars have pointed out, Jesus understood God's reign concretely. It was not a future event or abstraction for him, but something he saw happening in first-century Palestine. Even today, when a broken person is healed, when a community celebrates Eucharist in the midst of oppres-sion, or when a believing community helps bring about even mod-est social change, we see signs of God's reign transforming history. Spirituality is really a synonym for visionary political holiness.3 As the poor and oppressed begin to understand themselves as graced, an insight that oppressive social systems try to deny them, they have a powerful impact on their social environment. Great tech-nical skill is required to transform society. Social technology alone, however, is mute and unappealing. It requires a human voice and poetic imagination. A spirituality aimed at integral justice must also include stories, song, and dance--lessons people in the devel-oping world teach eloquently through their spirituality. Beauty is as much an antidote to iniustice as economic and political plan-ning. It is an unequivocal no to deforming violence. Given its multicultural makeup, contemporary Catholicism can play a vital role in forging a liberating spirituality. By affirming the beauty of many people it can be a living embodiment of political holiness. A U.S. Catholic Postscript The history of Catholicism in the United States is a fasci-nating story of disenfranchised immigrants coming to life, By hanging on to and affirming their religious identity, Irish, German, Polish, and Hispanic immigrants managed to gain a foothold in a largely Protestant society and eventually make a significant con- 692 Review for Religious tribution to the United States. Their success would not have been possible without parochial schools and neighborhood parishes. By the 1960s American Catholics were part of the mainstream, and the United States was the better for it. As full members of the middle class, however, United States Catholics run the risk of forgetting that they were once the "other" and forgetting the "other" in their midst. Luckily, the American Catholic church is not static. New Hispanic, African, and Asian Catholics are mak-ing the American church more diverse than ever before. Many of these groups are poor and politically powerless. Their experi-ence of oppression cannot be overlooked. If Catholics cannot understand and defend their fellow Catholics, then what good is American Catholicism? Middle-class Catholics cannot hide in suburban parishes and satisfy themselves with a type of "Catholicized" civil religion. In a country separated by racial and class divisions, they are called to exemplify inclusion and real justice, virtues that are central to Catholicism and a democratic political system. Given their place in the world, American Catholics also have to remind themselves that they have "made it" in an empire and that this empire unfortu-nately is responsible for a great deal of suffering in the world. They need to keep in mind that their tax dollars have trained third-world dictators in the School of the Americas, some of whom have murdered committed Catholics and non-Catholics in the developing world, and even American missionaries. They need to tell themselves that as people with voice and vote they can do something about their country's foreign and domestic policy. American Catholics have to raise hard, responsible questions about national policy and the way we wield our enormous might. That is a right and obligation American Catholics have towards their fellow Catholics and their country. Real patriotism requires responsible th6ught about our national and international policy--something Dorothy Day, Thomas Merton, and more recently the American bishops have said with eloquence. Many political analysts have pointed out that Middle-class Catholics cannot hide in suburban parishes and satisfy themselves with a type of "Catholicized" civil religion. September-October 199~ 693' Cadorette ¯ Catbolicis~t in the Social Order we are in the midst of a deep national crisis. We need people of vision, men and women with a deep spirituality and commitment to the public realm, to find our way out of the cul-de-sac we find" ourselves in. Squabbles between liberals and conservatives have become meaningless. We need people with vision and integrity who defy political categories. American Catholics can make a sig-nificant contribution in political discussion as representatives of an American Christian denomination that embraces more social classes and races than any other and a religious community of global proportions. The pluralism of American Catholicism is its greatest asset. It has much to contribute to the debate about who we are as a nation and our role in the international arena. The Catholic community does not have all the answers nor does it pretend to, but it is hardly shy on experience, wisdom, or com-mitted people. If it can live up to its own vision and be truly inclu-sive, just, and joyful it will have made an enormous contribution to the body politic. Of course, inclusion, justice, and joy do not rain down from the heavens. They require work which heaven asks of American Catholics. There are those, of course, who do not welcome a Catholic voice or presence in the social order. Often, they are working with an erroneous understanding of what Catholicism is, rooted in a misunderstanding of what Catholicism was. As new types of Catholicism come to the fore, this prejudice hopefully will decrease. There are more astute and hostile people, however, who oppose Catholicism not for what it was, but for what it is. They recognize the subversive potential of a religious tradition based on the incarnation and universality of grace. The Catholic vision, lived deeply, threaten~ their economic and political interests. Ironically, some of Catholicism's most implacable foes call them-selves Catholics, as recent events in Latin American tragically demonstrate. One can only hope that the example of people like Oscar Romero, Dorothy Day, Ita Ford and Maura Clark will call these people to conversibn, for their own sake, that of the Catholic community, and the world at large. We must keep telling our-selves that there is ground for hope, that our religious traditions, the liberties made real by the Enlightenment, responsible sci-ence, and homespun genius can lead us out of our current quandary. The social order can and must be transformed. The question we must ask ourselves is what role we will play in its transformation. Can we and will we respond to that powerful 694 Review for Religious spirit of liberation at play in our world or will we resist it? The answer to that question is enormously consequential for each of us as individuals and for the world we all inhabit. Notes ~ Gustavo Gutierrez, The Power of the Poor in History, trans. Robert R. Barr (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1983). 2 Chung Hyun Kyung, Struggle to Be the Sun Again: Introducing Asian Women's Theology (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1990), pp. 53-73. 3 Pedro Casaldfiliga and Jos~ Maria Vigil, Political Holiness: A Spirituality of Liberation, trans, paul Burns and Francis McDonough (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1994). Listen! Listen to your life. Listen and be still. Listen to the endless fall of endless silence. Listen with the ears of the sentinel alert to the sounds of the night. Listen to the years cresting over forgotten days, soundless, breaking infinitely slow. Do not speak. Gather together your life, and let time well slowly up from your depths and collect it as you might spring water in a cool dipper. Thomas More Page CFX September-October 1995 695 RICHARD J. HAUSER Finding God in Daily Life: Ignatian Spirituality's Heart The Jesuit poet Gerard Manley Hopkins calls attention to a fact of all created being in his "kingfishers" sonnet: Each mortal thing does one thing and the same: Deals out that being indoors each one dwells; Selves--goes itself; myself it speaks and spells, Crying I, Vhdt I dd is me:for that I came. Every created being is endowed by God with an inner nature and ac.ts accordingly--"selves"; in this it glorifies its Creator. And so with us human beings. We are endowed by God with a specific nature, indeed with the very image and likeness of God. Further we have been given God's own Spirit to assist us in expressing our inner being--the same Spirit that guided Jesus. But, unlike our fellow crea-tures, we humans need not always act according to our deepest selves. We alone of all creatures are given the choice of whether or not to follow the laws of our inner being. And so in his Spiritual Exercises Ignatius of Loyola gives us guidelines for recognizing God's movements within our hearts. He calls them Rules for the Discernment of Spirits. For Ignatius discernment is sim-ply the art of listening to our inner selves and learning to recognize (discern) movements that arise from the Holy Richard J. Hauser SJ is director of the graduate programs in theology, ministry, and spirituality at Creighton University. A comprehensive treatment of his thought on discernment can be found in his book Moving in the Spirit: Becoming a Contemplative in Action (Paulist Press, 1986). His address is Creighton University; 2500 California Street; Omaha, Nebraska 68178. 696 Review for Religious Spirit (our true selves) from those which do not. Traditionally the skill is called discernment of spi

Issue 37.4 of the Review for Religious, 1978. ; 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 Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. 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. Gailen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor July, 1978 Volume 37 Number 4 Correspondence with the editor and the associate editors, manuscripts and books for review should be sent to REVIEW VOa RELIGtOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; Jesuit Community; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19131. "Out of print" issues and articles not re-issued as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 North Zeeb Road; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. The Prayer of Darkness Carol Jean Vale, S.S.J. Sister Carol Jean is on the staff of St. Joseph Academy; Main Street; McSherrystown, PA 17344. An earlier contribution of Sister Carol Jean was "God, Community and the Religious Person" (September, 1976). The prayer of darkness shadows the human spirit after a moment of unparalleled, penetrating, haunting luminescence. For a moment God's life blazes in the center of the heart with an energy and vitality never previously perceived. So intensely does he reveal himself that it seems as though we are for the first time entering into life. Present existence appears dulled and unreal in the advent of so dynamic a presence. Dt~ring this experience we f~el so free that we could willingly surrender all to him and enter forever into this extraordinary existence so strangely, familiar and familiarly strange. The whole of our person ignites into a Conflagration of burning love and flaming longing for the living God. With false certainty, our intellect assures us that, finally, we have arrived at the. point of union with the transcendent Being] A radiating peace suffuseg our person and joy explodes in the rhythm of our hearts. " Such an experience may occur only once with tremendous power and potency, or it may recur over a relatively brief period of time for a few minutes dispersed through the c~3urse of several days or weeks. In the latter case, a loving Father gentles us along' slipping in and out of presence. Then--all goes black. Night descends. What remains of the experience is a living memory so real, so vivid that it charges the absence with an almost physical anguish of longing. This memory sustains us .through the darkness as it reminds us of the presence we seek and cannot now perceive. The keen remembrance of his presence is God's gift--it is spiritual food for the desert 481 482 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 of purification, for the night of daikness. The intense experience of God imprints on our spirit a knowledge of the destination to which we afe journeying. Indelibly inscribed in our hearts is the memory 0fthe presence of the God towards whom we are on pilgrimage. As the light within us to darkness dims, the flicker of the flame of his presence fires our minds with the knowledge that even in the darkness his Unseen presence shines. The memory of the light gives a vision of the journey's end though the way is charged with dark uncertainty. The value of this prayer of darkness is that it stretches us to the very limits of our being. It calls forth the essence of the energy of life even as it empties us of the essence of the power of death. Darkness breeds out the selfish desires, the egotistical goals, the hidden plottings of the covered and unknown subconscious. This prayer reveals us to ourselves as we are in God's sight and it empowers us to surrender to his transforming vision. While the sensible presence of God evades our questing, his unper-ceived presence burns our spirit to new depths of holiness. To view this process would be to die from too much revelation, so the darkness conceals the blinding fires of God's blazing furnace. The prayer of darkness is de-signed to lead us to a faith that slowly reveals the Fa~her--a gentle light glowing in the core of our inmost being. This light fires itself into the "living flame of love" only at the price of total surrender, absolute denial, con-summate purification. It seems strange that what is supposed to be so good pains us so terribly. The healing touch of God, like the knife of the diligent surgeon, stabs pain into the firm skin of our insidious sinfulness. Each moment of intense touching leaves the recipient reeling in a vacuum of tenebrity and agony. This darkness, which grows seemingly more and more impenetrable, slowly tempers us to withstand a light eqiaal in luminosity to the density of its opaque blaCkness. Phototropic like the seedling, we grow lightwards only at the cost of piercing the dark earth, dirt grain by dirt grain. The process of ascent proceeds slowly, and demands a careful scrutiny of each grain of sin and imperfection before that minute piece of earth moves aside and allows us to pass on to the next invariably different grain. The darkness of this night uncovers the darkness lurking within our own hearts. We behold ourselves as sinners even as we behold God's holiness as it floods the shores of our minds with the incredible truth of its potency. Such knowledge leads us deeper into the night where we know instinctively that we will be bared to the dark rays of a light powerful enough to eradicate the effects of sin~s tenacious grasp. It becomes clear to us that each at-tachment or need must be displaced. All that is not God must be relin-quished. EvEn our most secret loves must be released. Those attachments to which we cling unaware must be cauterized by a dark and unrelenting fire which flames secretly within us. Aware only of the darkness, we often fail to see the new light that slowly emerges as even those sins we knbw not become purified by the heat of the furnace of God. Such darkness is the price of vision. The Prayer of Darkness / 483 Early in formation we learned that the absence of God's consolation in prayer is an experience that everyone undergoes to a greater or lesser intensity. Yet, no matter how much we have read, heard, or pondered, when the night descends panic and question envelop us as well. We knew it would be painful, but never did we expect this degree of agony. We knew it would touch our lives with trials, but not that it would pierce into every corner of our lives demanding conversion. We knew that we needed purification, but not that we required the intensity of an inferno to burn away our ingrained loves. We knew that it would last a long time, but not that it might stretch out over years of molding, remolding, and molding yet again. For some reason, we do not actually believe that we are as sinful as the degree of purification would indicate. We fail to understand that he wants all, really all, and that he will stop at nothing to strip us of the affections that hold us back from the vision of his face. Perhaps the cross tests a dimension of man never explored by joy. Suffering and joy meet only in the moment of God. Joy draws us to the heights while suffering carves in us new caverns of depth. It is analogous to the. reflection of a high mountain in a limpid blue, crystal-mirroring lake. If the mountain's height could be perfectly scaled into the waters of the luminous lake it would, accurately represent the effect that suffering has on joy. The deeper the suffering the higher the'joy, reaching into the altitude of God. The cross tries the ability to endure, to expand in consciousness, to sail the seas of unknown mystery and to chart the oceans of unexplored inner space. Suffering is the vehicle that alone lets us enter and safely travel in the atmosphere of joy that.transfuses the divine milieu. It is the quality of our dying that determines the quality of our living. To the degree that we have been stripped and emptied will we be inner-directed and unshackled. The more deeply God has penetrated the uncircumcised regions of our hearts, the more freely will we be able to enter into the current of life unencumbered by our own dreams of success and hopes for self-glorification. The existential moment holds untold opportunities for life-choices birthed out~ of our death to callousness, indifference, and egoism. The death of the prayer of darkness draws Us out of ourselves. To survive the struggle it becomes imperative to forget self. If pain turns inward we become small, selfish, bitter, and self-pitying. Only an outward movement insures growth and new depths of holiness. Pain drives us be-yond the confines of the narrow world of "I" to consider, embrace, and compassionate with others. The' night of darkness bestows a new sense, of oneness with all other people for it puts us deeply in touch with the ground of their being. As we come to understand who we are, and who God is we learn to understand who others are and who God is in them. Our outward orientation toward God in pr.ayer seeps over into our everyday lives, be-coming an outward orientation toward others. ,. Trials which tear at every area of our lives characterize this dark 4~14 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 prayer--rejection by, or difficulties in community, lack of understanding on the part of friends, dissatisfaction with our apostolate, family difficulties or deaths, poor health, self-doubt, scrupulosity, lack of fulfillment even in those areas where we once met fulfillment. No created thing seems to be sufficient. There is a gnawing emptiness with the temporal and transient, even the eternal God rests silently in the dark impenetrable stillness of our being. This is but another way that the Lord strips us and shows us the emptiness of an existence apart from him. It is his way to mold our value system. In this state of dark uncertainty, he shapes us to image the design of his heart as each aspect of life reduces or enlarges to its proper pro-portion. Gradually the heart comes to cent(r solely on Jesus as Lord rec-ognizing him as the focal point of all living. The deeper we journey into the night the more we become absorbed in God. Indeed, we continually search for him in the midst of the darkness. At every turn, in every corner of ourselves we quest for some glimpse of the presence that more and more preoccupies our waking and even sleeping moments. The more elusive this lover the more ardently we seek him. Fear that we are not serving him stalks the inner caverns of our minds and we strive more totally to be faithful in the smallest details of our daily living. We are driven to perform voluntary acts of love knowing that such acts will draw us more deeply into the fire and more totally into him. Willing, joyful choices of self-death insure willing, joyful life-choices. Fasting, penance, self-giving constitute forms of self-immolation that seed new life in the fertile soil of the human spirit. The desire to fast from food is a form of death that disciplines the will to choose to fast from death-dealing words and actions. Penance forges in the deepest person a new desire to go beyond the narrow confines of self in an effort to direct our energies in service to others. Each time we transcend ourselves to serve the other we die a little more to that spirit of selfishness that holds us back from God and from those he loves. These active forms of voluntary self-death cannot even begin to approximate the depths of new found freedom wrought by the power of God's purification, but they are our contribution to the night of fire. Blessed is he or she who can call the darkness holy, who can desire its purification, who can rest in the question of its presence. This person will grow rapidly because the process of purification is facilitated by generosity. The more we submit to the fire of tempering the sooner we will find the inferno subsiding. If such generosity does not characterize our attitude, we can ponder the authenti(ity of the prayer itself. The night should birth in us greater service, increased prayer, deeper love of others, As the darkness washes the spirit with new life that life should begin to emerge and become visible to those whom we meet. It is a fire whose by-products are the fruits of the Holy Spirit. All the gifts with which we were endowed at baptism and confirmation become activated as the night of fire frees them from their The Prayer of Darkness / 41t5 resting place in the well of our person. New energy is released and life pours forth to the surface of our lives. The inward darkness more and more manifests itself as outward light. It is a pain that stimulates active concern for others as it burns away the self-concern that is an integral part of our sinful condition. The prayer of darkness is, then, a consuming, non-consuming fire. Our sinful and secret affinities are incinerated and purified while our spirit is filled with a new energy and power for creative living. At the night's be-ginning, we see the fire of God in a moment of intense, indwelling presence. Throughout the night itself the fire's action is so volatile that the flames are hidden from the eyes. The living God ravishes the heart and turns it toward himself. As the night ends we again behold the fire within--the fire that is the God of light dwelling in the ground of our being. This prayer teaches that the vision of God is given only to those who have endured the night of the cross. The prayer of darkness delivers ou~: bodies to the instrument of puri-fication. On this wood we are scourged, immolated, and ultimately con-secrated. To be crucified one must stretch out the whole length of his body. Such a body defies the power of death. It cannot be held. The tension toward life is too great. The body has been stretched beyond the point of death's power. Powerless, defenseless, and weak, the crucified body re-linquishes itself in an act of total faith. "In weakness, my power reaches perfection." This body enters the state of total surrender and in that stance the Lord of life invadeS the human spirit and fills it with the power and strength and light of the life of God. This action constitutes the purpose Of the prayer of darkness. It crucifies the human spirit and purifies it so that once faith becomes the habitual attitude of personal presence to God and others, the Trinity may reveal its dwelling.place in the now light-filled inner space of the heart's secret chamber. God himself has carved out his kingdom in our hearts. Suffused with an atmosphere of faith, irradiated with the light of Jesus Christ, powered by the energy of the Holy Spirit, sacralized by the presence of the Father, this secret room pulses with divine presence. To this dwelling place of God comes the person readied for betrothal. The night of darkness ended, the human spirit basks in the light of God gently flaming in the secret chamber of his fire-tendered heart. The night of darkness is the furnace of God, the birth-bed of life, the dark forger of light. Endured in all of its terrible intensity it creates new space for living. Once ended the night heralds the dawn of the day of forever, the momentless moment of visionless vision. Two Models of Christian Spirituality Val J. Peter Father Peter, a priest of the Archdiocese o.f Omaha, is currently associate professor of theol, ogy at Creighton University; 2500 California St.; Omaha, NE 68178. A I. Case Studies in Confusion young religious complains of problems of vacillation in his prayer life, his relations with others, and his self-concept. These three are generally good when he is performing well. But he has discovered since leaving the novitiate that virtue is not virtue unless there is a realistic alternative. So when his performance inevitably falters, so does his ability to pray. And because his self-concept is also diminished, he really cannot relate "to anyone on a deeper level. At times he is so gripped with a sense of un-worthiness and shame that he is not open to people around him. Because of this he feels intense loneliness and really feels ashamed to express his difficulties to anyone. Often he is paralyzed by an intense introspective-ness, constantly questioning his motives for every'thing. A retired religious finds herself becoming increasingly angry and bitter at her religious order. She was told in the novitiate to strive for perfection, "never be happy with yourself,." andalways try to please. During her long teaching career she was what many considered a model of obedience, piety, and hard work. Now she is old and sick and shunted off into a corner of a retirement home. Since she has outlived her usefulness, she findsJ herself shorn of any self-worth. Her source of securit~ is shattered. She is bitter and angry at the way she was trained, the way she lived, and the way she is now treated. A religious in her thirties has been in counseling for some months. She complains of being increasingly unable to deal with the guilt she feels as a Two Models of Christian Spirituality / 4117 result o fan intense romantic affair of short duration some years previously. She blames a book she read on sex and celibacy for the trouble she got herself into. In her mind God simply will not forgive her so she cannot forget. A former religious talks cynically of his experience in the order as alienating, unhealthy, and destructive. He says he became alienated from himself in that despair and self-hate were the result of his poor perform-ance. He says he became alienated from others beause his daily decision making was inevitably based on trying to conform the world to his need for security. He says it alienated him from God, in that God was seen as master and man as slave, no matter how much official rhetoric denied it. Because of this threefold alienation he has rejected his former order as well as its religion completely. These cases illustrate a central problem of Christian spirituality today. What in truth is God's relationship to his creatures and how does man's behavior fit into this relationship? The gospels tell us of the depths of God's love but they are also filled with urgent moral demands. There are even dire threats and apocalyptic promises. How does all of this fit together? Many of us first faced this issue as children in the context of totalitarian religious control and puritanical restraints. Some still do not see the need to grow beyond it. For the many others who have already freed themselves from this rigid control of behavior by threats and promises, the real issue is no longer how to achieve freedom from such control but rather what this freedom is for. Where do we go from here? Is the on!y option an irre-sponsible permissiveness that sentimentalizes God's love and reduces sin to a series of petty misdemeanors? The answer to these questions may seem ob, vious to some, But they are not so obvious to the anguished people in the cases citedabove. In an age of anxiety and uncertainty it is the obvious that is most in need of exegesis. To illustrate the problem and answer these questions, let us contrast the results flowing from two models of Christian spirituality. We are not seek-ing proof but rather understanding. The evidence brought forth by modern scholars, not to mention the great spiritual masters, is simply too massive to be overlooked: in Christianity ethics is secondary to the central religious affirmation of God's gift of self to ]as in Christ Jesus, So our purpose is to~ understand the relationshiP between divine and human initiative and re-spon. se ~by spelling out the consequences that result from rightly and wrongly understanding ttiis relationship between God and man. Model A: Human Initiative and Divine Response This first model is familiar to all who can relate to the cases cited above. It makes Christianity first and foremost into an ethic. Here the primary source of our security as God's creatures is our performance which God awaits before deciding what attitude to take toward ~us. To rest our security 41111 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 before God on our performance is an easy mistake for us to make. After all, we judge others on the basis of their performance; our attitude toward our fellowman reflects our reaction to his performance. And we expect the same from others. In addition, the mistake is congenial to our American culture with its heavy stress on results and on efficiency. So if a person desires that God love him very much, then he will have to perform very well indeed. ~ What If Your Performance Is Poor? If such is the case, anyone serious about his spiritual life will feel an urgent need to change his behavior, to move from insecurity to security before God, to avoid the wrath that is sure to come, and to advance along the path to perfection. Go to the spirituality section of your library and see how many tomes have the word, perfectio.n, in their titles. Acting on the desire to perform better, one of four things is likely to happen: i. You could change the criteria for good performance, now declaring that the behavior which you had thought was morally evil is in reality very good. ii. You could change the criteria for good performance, now declaring that this troublesome behavior is in reality neither good nor evil but rather of no moral consequence, insignificant and irrelevant to the Christian moral life. iii. You can try to change the poor performance, and fail in the effort. In other words, convinced that your criteria are correct, you embark on a program of moral renewal and fail miserably. You simply cannot change. iv. Or you can try to change your poor performance, and succeed in that effort. Examples of the~e four possibilities come quickly to mind. i. You should be proud of it, not sad. In this approach one changes the moral evaluation of acts to diminish the burdens of guilt. The religious who complains of being unable to deal with the guilt she feels as a result of a brief but intense romantic affair is a prime candidate for this approach. She has performed poorly--by her own evaluation. But feeling the weight of this poor performance and the resulting negative attitude of her God, she may decide (in fact she may be mistakenly encouraged in this decision) upon further reading and reflection that her criterion has reversed itself: God would surely be very displeased if this affair were morally evil; but what if it is not? Was not her loving this man a most important awakening of her humanity as a woman, a maturing of her love psychologically and spirit-ually? Did it not relieve her loneliness, support her faltering ego, moderate her frustrations, and bring a refreshing experience of closeness? Is not God proud of her? Should she not also rejoice and be proud? With this change in criteria comes relief from the agonizing burden of guilt and a new attitude on the part of God. The main point here is that Model A sharply reduces the odds of making sound judgments about criteria for morality. Why? Because the central concern of this religious and others operating under Model A is not to discover the truth of the affair but rather to come to grips effectively with Two Models of Christian Spirituality / 41t9 the guilt and insecurity built into this situation by the model itself. What she is really doing is searching not for truth and genuine value but for a way to eliminate guilt and achieve good performance. The heart of Model A is manifest: "All is well because I perform well." She mistakenly assumes that the divine and human initiative and response are best understood by way of this model. Thus if there are authority figures who assertx andy are worthwhile~ this religious may be persuaded to accept what they say, not because it really is so, but because the security of good performance results from her acceptance of their words. It takes a certain degree of skill and desire for truth to sort out the opinions of various theologians on any topic. If you rummage through their opinions to find one that eliminates guilt, then you.may think you have found a bargain. But like most bargains you only get what you pay for. ii. You're worrying about the wrong things. In this second way of handling poor performance, one simply ceases to worry about a heretofore troublesome area of :morality. The young religious who complains about vacillation in his prayer life, his self-concept, and his relations with others is a prime candidate for this second approach. His problems are impatience, anger, jealousy, and revenge. Feeling the weight of his poor performance, and thus God's displeasure, he is strongly motivated by an urgent need to. stem his reversals and resume his advance along the path to perfection. Here too he can; after study and reflection, come to the conclusion that morality is not so much concerned with "keeping oneself unspotted by the world",as it is with "caring for widows and orphans." He can conclude that impatience and petty jealousy--and .even casual anger and a little re-venge- are pretty much morally indifferent especially in an age when there is so much social injustice in the world: racial prejudice, nuclear blackmail, grinding poverty, overpopulation, and pollution. This certainly makes him feel a lot better about himself. It improves his prayer life and his relationships with others. This is a tremendous benefit in anybody's book. But the point again is that Model A severely limits the chances for making correct moral judgments because its central focus is the intensely felt need to get rid of insecurity and unhappiness. Changing cri-teria can be sound and balanced, but it is seldom so if strongly motivated by the felt insecurity of poor performance in following Model A. For in this model, changing moral criteria can be basically a technique for dealing with guilt rather than the result of a successful search for truth. One of the "benefits" of living in a time when there is both an "old morality" and a "new morality" is that these first two ways of dealing with poor per-formance are more readily available and much more attractive. It's like a gigantic theological "sale." You can find a bargain or two without ever coming tO grips with why you are at the bargain counter in the first place. iii. The darkness of despair. The third way of dealing with poor per-formance is to try to change our behavior and fail miserably in that effort. 490 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 The cynical former religious who considers his experience in his order as alienating and destructive is but one tragic example. He simply could not change his behavior. So he then found himself facing an even more dis-pleased God than before. He was literally in a "hell of a mess." This route is a well-traveled one, worn smooth with the tears of depression, the fa-miliar terrors of the night, and the deep-seated angers of countless an-guished pilgrims. For many, sin-sickness now sets in, not infrequently leading some to the local psychiatrist. A more moderh version of sin-sickness is manifest in the ever increasing need for some to employ various forms of sensitivity training and make them into a way of life. The other option, chosen by the alienated former religious, is to reject altogether the religion of such a Tormentor-God in order to preserve one's mental health. If these are the only choicesmmental breakdown or rejection of religion--it is understandable why the latter would seem attractive. In these circum-stances, who would be so insensitive and cruel as to threaten such a person with the biblical consequences of an atheism he now embraces as a last resort? One certainly gains an insight into the problems of Model A by analyzing the despair one is led to under these circumstances. One cannot .turn to God. One is rather driven away from God who has become not the source of all security and all care but the very opposite. , iv. I have fought the good fight and won the race. The fourth way of dealing with poor performance is to try to change our behavior and succeed in that effort. What are the problems that loom large for such a person as he strives to live the Christian life? What If Your Performance Is Good? If such is the case a Model A person is sure to feel secure in the knowledge that God is pleased with him, loves him a great deal, and has a commensurate reward waiting for him in the life to come. Three problems, however, plague the success of a Model A Christian, problems built into the model itself: i. problems of self-righteousness and self-Sufficiency ii. problems of self-deception iii. problems with ongoing conversion. Examples come quickly to mind. i. Lord, I thank you that I am not like the rest of men. A man who has achieved considerable success in his priestly life may feel his consistently good performance to be a source of great security and happiness. But since his security is in his performance and not in God as a result of using this model, he ~pays a high price for it. He feels self-righteously superior to others; he looks down on them; he tends not to listen very much to their ideas (after all if they were so smart, why aren't they more successful?). This priest seldom, if ever, seeks spiritual advice and does not need a Two Models of Christian Spirituality / 491 spiritual director. He is self-sufficient. He is his own counselor--and con- ¯ sequently has a fool for a client. This priest sees no problems in living out his permanent commitment since he is particularly strong-willed and has highly developed coping techniques. He is convinced that all those who break their permanent commitments are simply weak-kneed and callow, lacking willpower. ii. Using the publican's words while praying the pharisee's prayer. Take the case of a highly successful religious who believes that his good performance really and trulyis due to God's grace. He does not merely ask God foi" good fortune while attaining virtue on his own. No, he says, it is God's grace~that makes him both want to perform well and actually do so. But, he says, God has given his grace indifferently and impartially to all, only to be fair, to give everyone a fighting chance. Life is for him much like a race in which God, as 'referee and judge, to be fair and impartial, gives everyone a fighting chance. So this religious could not have been successful without God's help, just as a football team cannot win the game if the referees are not fair. Yet now he has won so God owes him the promised reward. He is deceived by his success--not only about permanent com-mitment but also about success and failure, his own and others'. And h~ peddles his products to a ready-made market where they are in great de-mand. So by using the publican's words as packaging, he deceives himself and his customers into thinking they are buying something other than the pharisee's problems. ~ iii. If today you hear his voice, do not harden your heart. Take the case of a dynamic, n0-nonsense sister who has achieved considerable success as principal in an affluent parochial school. She has always been a winner ever since the novitiate days when she was singled' out as a future leader. She does.not tolerate--and neither does God--failure~in her own life nor in the teachers under her. On this tight ship they either produce or walk the plank. Success has long secured for her the status and acclaim that God and her public have in store for winners. She's got the world on the end of a string. Mother Teresa is scheduled to talk in town, and this principal out of curiosity makes a special effort to go and see for herself what this "living saint" has to offer. But she gets more than she bargained for. In a:totally unexpected flash of. insight she sees Mother Teresa surrounded by success yet seemingly oblivious to, and immune from, what are now clearly seen as its seductive effects. By comparison she suddenly experiences just for a moment the spiritual shabbiness of her own small love for God and his people. How was she to know? What must God think of her now? Thus does her long established but~tenuous security vanish in the intensity of the moment. What is she to do? Either she puts these thoughts out of her mind by explaining them away (something not too hard to do) or she will be thrown back into the insecurity before God which she has seen so often in others 492 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 and which, she thought, her complete success had vanquished. The former is clearly a much more attractive option. In other words the security of good performance is a very tenuous security indeed. It lasts only as long as good performance lasts. It finds immense difficulties in acknowledging the need for an ever deepening change of heart, an ever deepening realization of our sinfulness and our inability to love God more--the ongoing need for a Savior and Redeemer. Let us conclude with a brief look at the case of the retired religious who, having outlived her usefulness, noff finds herself increasingly isolated in lonely bitterness and resentment. She is suffering from an ailment prevalent in.Model A, a pathology which Rollo May once called "the divine right to be taken care of." When she wasstill young in the religious life she entered into a contract with God which read as follows: "I, Sister Alice, the party of the first part, agree that I shall always and forever permanently give up the following activities for my entire lifetime: worshipping other gods, taking the Lord's name in vain, dishonoring parents, killing, committing sexual sins, stealing, cheating, lying, and coveting. I further agree to relinquish my right to make moral judgments to God, the party of the second part, and his lawful representatives. And I, God, the party of the second part, in return for the faithful obedience of the party of the first part, do hereby grant Sister Alice the right to my special care; and I, God, do further promise that if she keeps her promise, I will reward the party of the first part with success and happiness." Well, Sister Alice, retired and shunted off to a corner of a rest home, is not as happy now as she thinks she should be. So, she feels, God has not kept his part of the contract. He has not honored her "divine right to be taken care of." What happens? Confusion, anger, and resentment take hold and spiritual collapse is near. "I was promised that I would always be taken care of if I were obedient. Look how obedient I have been all my life. So why am I not being taken care of?." Notice how different this is from the genuine Christian response: "Lord, I love you no matter what." Notice too thatthis kind of contract is also popular in the postconciliar Church. Only minor modifications are necessary. First, substitute the char-acteristics of love listed in 1 Co 13 for the Ten Commandments. Secondly, substitute the duty always to follow one's conscience for the duty always to obey religious superiors. The rest of the contract is the same, as aie the results. ~ For many people accustomed to living by Model A there is an under-standable reluctance to leave it behind. Although their behavior is rigidly controlled by threats and promises, they suspect that the only alternative is a model which whitewashes all activity no matter how morally atrocious by saying: it doesn't matter what you do because God loves you no matter what. They see Model A as at least remaining faithful to the radical de- Two Models of Christian Spirituality / 493 mands of the gospel. And they suspect that the only alternative is to abandon these radical demands in favor of a watered down gospel of sen-timental love. They rightly see a gospel of sentimental love as doubly defective, unfaithful as it is to both the radical love of God and to his demands as well. Where do we go from here? Is the only option an irre-sponsible permissiveness that reduces sin to a series of petty misde-meanors? That is the question which.we shall directly address in the second part of this study. II. Case Studies in Confidence We have been looking at the gospels. They tell us of the depths of God's love for us but they are also filled with urgent moral demands. We even find their pages filled with dire threats and apocalyptic promises. How does all of this fit together? Many of us faced thi~ issue as children in the context of authoritarian religious control and puritanical restraints. Many still do not know how to grow beyond this context. For others who have already freed themselves from this rigid control of behavior by the threats and promises inherent in Model A (described graphically in Part I), the real issue is no longer how to achieve freedom from that totalitarian control but rather, what is this freedom for? What is this freedom grounded in and oriented towards? Where do we go from here? Is the only option an irre-spon, sible permissiveness that sentimentalizes God's love and reduces sin to inconsequential misdemeanors? Model B: Divine Initiative and Human Response So we will look at another model of moral performance. This one does not ground our security in our performance but rather in the Good News of God's self gift. A word of caution is in order here. As mentioned at the conclusion of Part I, for many people accustomed to living by Model A there is an understandable .reluctance to leave it behind. Although their behavior is rigidly controlled by threats and promises, they suspect that the only al-ternative is a model which whitewashes all activity, no matter how morally atrocious, by saying: it doesn't matter what you do because God loves you no matter what. They see Model A as at least remaining faithful to the radical demands of the gospel. And they suspect that the only alternative is to abandon these radical demands in favor of a watered down gospel of sentimental love. They rightly see such a gospel as doubly defective. It is unfaithful not only to the radical moral demands of the gospel but also to the radical nature of God's love as well. Unfortunately so many examples of people abandoning the radical demands of the gospel for a watered down version of the love ethic can be cited that these seem to be the only two options available---one even more defective than the other. Model B, as we shall call it, goes beyond these two options. It is a higher 494 / Review for Religious, Volume 37,~ 1978/4 viewpoint arrived at by way of a deeper understanding of the relationship between God and man. In this model one tries to be faithful to the truth of both the immediacy of God's care (his radicallove no matter what), and the immediacy of God's demands which flow from this divine love. Unlike Model A, this model does not make Christianity into just an ethic. It rather understands that Christianity is first and foremost an effec-tive affirmation of God's relationship with his creation: it is the revelation in Christ Jesus of God's own gift of se!f, his love--sacrificial love--no matter what. Unlike the sentimental love posture, this model takes God's love so seriously that there is an urgent, radical call to respond. It is out of this incredibly serious gift of God's own self that the radical demands of the gospel arise. These ethical demands are not radical because of threats and promises; they are. radical because God's gift of self is at the root of divine and human existence. Whatever threats and promises there are in this model, they are not controlling. They are not the kind of threats and promises found in a dictator-slave relationship as in Model A. They are rather the very special kinds of threats and promises that inevitably accompany any genuine movement toward self-absorption and toward self donation. These kinds of threats and promises are inherent in the kind of.relationship we call agapeic love. And the more intense the love, the more it penetrates to the depths of our being, the more it is both promising and threatening at the same time. This dizzying balance of joy and dread, fulfillment and anxiety has much to do with the fact that love is so exciting. The stirrings of this kind of love are the first stirrings of hope. So in Model B, a person listens to the Word of God and is moved genuinely to wonder what is so unheard of that it is proclaimed in such a startling style. One hears that God's attitude toward us is not grounded in our performance in such a way that God simply reacts to that performance. One wonders how that can be so, since we so often find it not so in our dealings with men. In fact a person comes to anticipate that others will treat him in a way that is a manifest reaction to how he treats them. If it is so that God's ways are not man's ways, then that would be good news indeed. He hears further that God initiates and does not simply react. God so cared about men that he sent his Son; his Son so cared about them that he gave his life for them. And having given his life he still so cared about them that he sent the Spirit who would flood their hearts with so deep a care that it would flow over into the lives of others. That man Jesus, who knewGod as "my father," loved his father "no matter what." And he knew that his father loved him "no matter what," simply because he was his son. The immediacy of his father's care that daily dawned on him in, ever different ways in the face of daily different experiences was an immense wellspring of security. It was not the security that is grounded in performance: "All is well because I perform well." Indeed he performed well and his father Two Models of Christian Spirituality / 495 rejoiced in that. No, it was a security grounded in the fact that he was simply his beloved son. It was not a security stemming from a senile,~ grandfather-like care toward an immature child who can do what he feels like doing without fear, without demands made on him. No, he understood that out of that care flowed the most urgent need to do the will of his father. It was not a security that Would immunize him from loneliness and terror. He found in the desert the courage to stand alone and not throw himself down ("God will bear you up!"). He had no contract resulting in "the divine right to be taken care of." What he had was the assurance of his father's care no matter what befell him. What he had was not the as-surance that there would be only success and acclaim--no numbness of defeat, no sorrow, no pain, no indifference, no enmity, no fears, no be-trayals, no rejection, no death. But rather the assurance that even in all of the~e there was at work his father's care which was strong enough, effective enough, loyal enough to be trusted. It was a security born of love--with all that this entails. So, too, you and I hear that our Father is radically in love with us; that he is our Father as well, one who loves his sons and daughters no matter what, simply because he has set his heart on us and spoken our names. He calls us to a human life so deep that it is somehow divine. A man wonders ¯ how this can be so. But he begins to realize how when it begins to dawn on him that he is himself falling radically in love with God. He will now have to throw away all old contracts with God and learn to get along without such. In Model B the source of security for the Christian is then in the first instance the immediacy of God's care~ Because this care is not plastic, there flows from i~ the immediacy of God's demands. It is all the more intense because our very being thirsts for the living God. "Our souls were made for thee, O God, and they will not rest until they rest in thee." Thus mankind, bent on denying its own meaning while it cries out for it, encounters its sole source and destiny in this divine sel(donation. Operating under this model the possibilities are twofold, as in Model A: either my performance is poor, by whatever standards, or it is good. Here too we shall examine each of the alternatives. What If Your Performance Is Poor? If such is the case, anyone' serious about his spiritual life will be moved to change his,behavior. But the motive will not be the conviction that I am not keeping my part of the contract. Nor again will the motive be the need to escape the loneliness and terror that poor performance brings in Model A. In Model B the proper formation of conscience begins with worship; the will of God is best seen in the work of God, our redemption. It is his will that we accept wholeheartedly 'his gift of sell his fidelity and love no matter what. Am I doing God's will? This is the first place where the question must 496 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 be answered. Am I accepting his redemptive .love, his steadfast and loyal love? Note here that even in Model B there is insecurity in poor performance. The insecurity even functions at the same primordial level as the security flowing from God's steadfast love. It functions within the controlling horizon of God's saving fidelity. So the insecurity found in Model B is of a different type than in Model A. It is not founded on the false premise that God values me only for my utility. It is not the insecurity flowing from the supposed conditional nature of God's self gift. So the realization in faith that God is faithful "no matter what" eliminates the root problem central to morality in Model A. In this redemptive relationship, poor performance is simply that, poor. Surely I am sorry; I have not cared enough. And the inability by myself to care enough turns me back to the source of all care. But the poor per-formance remains. What shall I do about it? Four possible choices come to mind: i. You could change the criteria for good performance, declaring that the behavior which you thought was morally evil is in reality very good. ii. You could change the criteria for good performance, declaring that this troublesome behavior is in reality neither good nor evil but rather of no moral consequence, irrelevant to the Christian moral life. iii. You can try to change the poor performance, and fail in that effort. iv. You can try to change your poor performance, and succeed. i) and ii) The search for the truth. Let us take some examples. A mid-dle- aged religious finds herself haunted by the specter of world famine. She feels so troubled by the miseries of mankind that she cannot even enjoy a fine steak-dinner. In fact she just returned from a home visit and could hardly sit through the family Christmas dinner where the table groaned under the sheer weight of the sumptuous repast. She felt guilty for having participated in such. In fact she feels guilty about being born in such a family and in such a country where the wealth is simply "loot stolen by an imperialist, racist society." She half believes that she is stealing food from the nomads in Sahel when she drives her car. She half believes that by eating steak (which costs twenty times as much protein to produce as we get from it) instead of soybeans she is directly taking food out of the hands of Bangladesh children. The main concern and principal need of this religious is to discover the truth of the matter and that is no small undertaking. But it is surely a different undertaking than the illusive search for security for a way to appease an angry God, so characteristic of Model A. Her search is for truth and genuine value rather than simply seeking a way to eliminate guilt. To do God's will, to love effectively is a movement toward what is truly good, and not just apparently such. So one searches for what is really true and truly worthwhile because one simply, and really, wants to know, no matter Two Models of Christian Spirituality / 497 what the other consequences. There is a terrible need to find out. Such a need for truth does not guarantee results. But it does improve the odds of making better judgments about what is right and wrong. This need for the truth provides an openness which is the beginning of a self-corrective process. There are many areas of our lives where our criteria for right and wrong need ongoing revision, and sometimes even radical reversal. There are many areas of our lives where, due to misunderstanding, values are de-valued and disvalues are valued. The misunderstanding is not merely due to lack of information or education but also due to lack of love. Sexuality comes quickly to mind as an area little understood. But it is not the only, nor even the principal arena for ongoing autobiographical revision of cri-teria for right or wrong. Self donation and self-absorption, authority, and autonomy, justice and charity are much more critical. Now moved by a deep hunger for the truth, one can still make mistakes in judgment, but the felt need to be open to the truth in whatever arena (lying, stealing, world hunger, sexual behavior, and so forth) tends to countercheck our biases which predetermine the results of our investigation. iii. Lord, to whom shall we go? The third way of dealing with poor performance is to try to change our behavior, and to fail miserably in that effort. Take the case of a priest who struggles with ambition for status and higher office, with an insatiable thirst for public honors and recognition--a problem common to conservative and liberal alike. He now sees that he has lived too much of his life bartering half-truths for favors, service for ac-colades, compromise for advancement. He gave too many people lies when they asked for truth and he half convinced himself that he was helping the Church by populating her with' scoundrels and liars. But of late he has been deeply troubled by questions such as those St. Thomas More put to Sir Richard Rich, a man who bartered perjury for the post of Attorney General of Wales: "For Wales? Why, Richard, it profits a man nothing to give his soul for the whole world . But for Wales!" Like Israel as seen through the eyes of the prophet Osee, this priest had through the years pursued the desires of his own heart. His life, like the history of Israel, was a sordid and shameful story of the betrayal of Yahweh's hesed, his steadfast love. And now, try as he might, he finds himself caught in the coils of a sinful history from which he cannot extricate himself. Is there any light in the midst of his terrible darkness? Is there any radical source of hope to vanquish despair, that frightful footsoldier quar-tered in his house? "Lord, to whom shall I go?" The answer is to turn to the Lord as the source of all care, all strength, all healing. So here failure can be acknowledged for what it is yet it is not conducive to despair. With Augustine we can still say: "Late have I loved thee, O Beauty, so ancient and so new!" Perhaps most people do not experience such a massive case of failure 491~ / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 as this priest. But there is no doubt whatsoever that most people do ex-perience pernicious and persistent failure in at least one or two special areas of their lives: pride and prejudice, lying and cheating, sexual infidelity and inordinate self-seeking. In all these cases failure does not force one to turn away from an angry God but rather toward God as the radical source of all healing and care. Failure does not make you search out magic rituals of the latest psychological variety nor of the more traditional kind. (Wouldn't that be a relief and wouldn't it allow us a better chance of judging and applying the techniques of modern psychology in a more appropriate and refreshing way?) Here one realizes that God really cares no matter what; that he seeks to break the chains of our bondage and to emancipate us for a new life; that he sets out to win our hearts: "Therefore, behold, I will allure her, and bring her into the wilderness, and speak tenderly to her. And there I will give her her vineyards, and make the valley of Achor a door of hope. And there she shall answer as in the days of her youth, as at the time when she came out of the land of Egypt" (Os 2:14-15). "Lord, you can do all things; you can make me whole." This is God's purifying love. Yet it is apparently far easier for many people to believe in a god who dislikes us than in one who loves us no matter what, who seeks to bring his creation and redemption to fruition within us. The latter is far harder to believe than the mystery of the Holy Trir~ity itself. For not a few people really dislike themselves, and so they shape God to their own image. Or at best they imagine God pounding his gavel and saying at the Last Judgment: "You people on the left, there, are going to hell. You people on the right, there, are going to heaven. And I am going out to lunch because I am sick and tired of the whole business."' God, the indifferent Judge, more ~nterested in lunch than in us! The New Testament .is good news indeed, most surprising to us in the midst of our failures. If it is lived, then there need be no convulsive efforts to achieve, efforts which first direct us back to the source and font of all care. iv. I have fought the good fight and won the race. The fourth way of ' dealing with our ~erformance is to try to change our behavior and succeed in that effort. How does such success function for a person who, calling God "Father," strives to live the Christian life? What If Your Performance Is Good? Now God rejoices in man's good performance. But the Christian's se-curity does not rest in any infallible guarantee of its c6ntinuance. In this situation there is a quiet joy and a considerable desire to share one's inner peace. But there is also fearand sometimes even trembling.Yet the fear is not a neurotic anxiety of a mere performance-relationship. Rather it is a healthy respect for the inconstancy ofourhearts, not God's. One is not sure of one's continued good performance, but only sure of G0d's healing care. Two Models of Christian Spirituality / 499 The problems that plague the success of a Christian operating out of Model A (problems built into the model) are transposed by the remedies inherent to Model B: i. problems of self-righteousness ii. problems of permanent commitment iii. problems of ongoing conversion Examples come quickly to mind. i. Lord, be merciful to me, a sinner. It is not for naught that the greatest saints proclaimed themselves very great sinners. Because the source of security and strength is God's care, there is less opportunity for self-righteousness, self-sufficiency and pharisaism to enter the picture. This is because the more one loves, the more one realizes the need of the beloved. The priest who has achieved considerable success in preaching and hearing confessions realizes that God uses the weak to heal the strong, the little ones of this world to confound the proud. He tends to listen to others because God speaks in strange ways and in unexpected places. He realizes that his greatest strength lies in his very weakness. He needs a spiritual director because self-deception is an old friend. As he goes through life he realizes that every stage of age. and wisdom and grace is accompanied by new and different temptations, all of them new and none of them quite expected, thus presenting ever fresh insights into our complete and radical dependence on God. The wisest man of all is one who at the end relies only on the mercy of God and in all honesty declares himself an unprofitable servant. ii) All I know of tomorrow is that Providence will rise before the sun. For those who mistakenly ground the feasibility of permanent commitment in man's fidelity and not God's, there are only two alternatives, both equally unenlightened and unattractive. Either permanent commitment be-comes no problem at all for me because I am particularly "strong willed" and have highly developed coping techniques. In this case I tend to view all those who do not keep their commitments to be, without ex~geption, weak-kneed and callow, somehow lacking willpower. Or permanent commitment becomes an agonizing problem to be resolved best by denying even the desirability of that kind of commitment since I could only commit myself if I were sure of my future performance. But given not only my track record but also everyone's potential for change, growth and development, then permanent commitment is risky at best and ludicrously dishonest at worst. In this case those who look down on lives of broken commitments are simple souls at best or rigid elitists at worst. For those however who ground permanent commitment in God's fidel-ity, these tortuous alternatives are unnecessary. A higher viewpoint opens up. I can commit myself permanently not because I am sure of my per-formance but because I am sure that, "with God, all things are possible." 5111~ / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 This changes my whole set of expectations about the future. I expect growth and development as well as my own failures to radically affect my life--to bring unheard of dilemmas and opportunities. I'm not sure how I will react to these but I do know this about tomorrow, that Providence will rise before the sun. iii. Lord, the sea is so wide and my boat is so small. A person's good performance arising out of response to God's steadfast love often makes him experience again and anew how poor this good performance has been. This experience may make him realize his inability to love God more. Thus the need for ongoing conversion. Here again one is turned to the source and font of that care. If the source of security for the Christian is God's own self gift, then the dawning awareness of being a sinner can really be accepted without neu-rotic anxiety on one hand and without a "who-gives-a-damn" or even despair attitude on the other hand; without withdrawal from an evil world and yet with appreciation for moments of withdrawal; without convulsive efforts to achieve and yet with the most wholehearted efforts to achieve, efforts which first direct us back to the source and font of care. Then one might,find the courage to accept his shortcomings for what they are and, in the healthiest sense, strive mightily to move forward. The Christian has no need to become overly anxious about his d~epest instinctual drives which rise to the surface of his life in the forms of desires for self-aggrandizement or self-destruction. Instinctive impulses are not taboo. There is no need to live in Hesnard's I'univers morbide de lafaute. If it is true that God cares "no matter what," then the individual can recognize his instincts as both a possibility and an opportunity to be laid hold of. He can accept himself as he is--the beginning of inner freedom. He can deal with his anxieties as they arise because he is sure of God's care. And he is sure that this care is creative. Thus good performance becomes not the singular source of security but the fruit of security and a cause for rejoicing and gratitude. Perhaps he does not understand very well what performance is asked or required or called for. But he will begin where he is and do what he can, confident that some answers, however partial or tentative, will be forthcoming. So he listens, is attentive, is alert to them, is open. Once we are aware of the graciousness of God's concern, we become aware too that we will grow in further recognition of values. The choice between Model A and Model B is a clear one. Model B takes its stand with the New Testament. Where do you take yours? Community Living: Some Options Barbara Hazzard, S.N.J.M. Sister Barbara is the principa, l of Holy Spirit Elementary School in Fremont. She offers spiritual guidance and, for the past five years, has been directing retreats and has been on the summer staff of the Jesuit Retreat House, Los Altos. She resides at 3930 Parish Avenue; Fremont, CA 94536. " During the past few years, my concern about community life has become acute. Being a spiritual director and retreat guide for sisters of many dif-ferent communities has made me very aware of the problems which exist in community life today. The greatest problem seems to be the indifference or fear which members of a group have with regard to helping one another lead a deeply Christian life. There are all .kinds of things which can and do serve as anesthetics against this problem: overwork, socializing, formal religious exercises, meetings, professional commitments, family commit-ments, television--and time passes on, and the frustration grows. The following remarks are one person's perception of a need, and one way of dealing with that need. They arise out bf my faith in and hope for the future of religious life--in gratitude to the religious who have shared a similar faith and hope with me. An active, in opposition to contemplative, religious congregation is founded primarily to fulfill a need of the times; i.e., caring for the poor, caring for the sick, instructing the ignorant, and so forth. A religious con-gregation is a group of people who come together to live out the gospel with a certain emphasis on a particular facet of the gospel message. The under-lying purpose of coming together is twofold: to support and encourage one another in living a faith life, and to work together to proclaim the gospel to others. The first part, the support and encouragement of one another in 501 51~2 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 living a faith life, remains constant. It should become deeper and richer as the group grows in faith. The second part, the particular work of the group, is subject to change as the needs of the times shift. The concern here regards the first part of our purpose. Our pragmatic, materialistic culture has not left religious communities untouched. Most active congregations in the United States live on the level of the upper middle class. They do not want materially for much. This is not a reflection on individuals, but rather a reflection on the life-style and image which organized religious groups live and project in today's world--and on the need to look at that life-style and image. Does the nourishment of our faith-life in fact vivify our witness of the gospel, or are we a group of educated, efficient people running institutions with only a "flavor" of Christianity? Are the demands of the gospel too risky? Do we hide behind "prudence" and "practicality" as an excuse for not living our beliefs more radically? The values of Jesus seem contradictory to the values of some of his followers. He led a poor life, dependent on his Father and those around him. He was not identified with aspecific "cause" of his time, yet dealt with the problems at hand. Much of his ~problem" concerned organized religion and its ministers, those who were more concerned with the letter than with the spirit, who said one thing and did another. If Jesus were to walk this earth today, he would most likely have a similar experience. Jesus' only desire was to do whatever it was his Father wanted of him. He often sought time for prayer, alone and with his disciples, in order to know his Father's will. How often do .members of religious orders come together today in prayer specifically to know the Father's will for them, being open and ready to accept whatever that may be? There is always time for chapters, com-mittee meetings, renewal meetings, and more. Where is the time for cor-porate prayer? And how many would come if the time were provided? Is there a fear of the changes that might reveal "the Father's will"? The words uttered by so many religious today are phrases like: "I'm not surewhat we are about any more." "'I'm so tired most of.the time I can't pray.' . I feel as though I live in a boarding house. What kind of~:ommunity life do we have?" There are no simple answers. But such statements must be heard as symptoms of a condition which needs to be treated. What is necessary in order to begin the process? The primary condition is a willingness to change on the part of the individual religious, a will-ingness to say, "I am willing to try a different life-style or to adjust my life-style-- and to risk failure in trying--in order to improve the quality of my life." Time is needed, which means curtailing other commitments, to pray, to talk, to listen, to plan, not in the context of a chapter, but by coming together in small groups, for those who are willing. A clarification of val.ues is necessary. For some, the priority is the apostolate which feeds their Community Living: Some Options prayer, and their community life. For others, the priority is prayer which nourishes both community and apostolate. For still others, community life nurtures prayer and the apostolate. Certainly prayer, community life, and the apostolate are not separate entities. All three should flow together, but the emphasis will vary according to the movement of the Spirit within the ¯ person. Which emphasis? This is where, in honesty, individuals must recognize a need in them-selves and choose one of these emphases. This does not mean that only people who think alike should form local communities, but that those who live together should have a common value-base on which community life may build. The types of support needed by individuals vary. It does not have to be the same in every living situation, but it has to exist in some form in each local community if community life is going to be something more than a glorified sorority or fraternity. Pluralism seems to be the angle from which life in active communities is being re-thought. The above suggestion is a form of pluralism in life-style. Yes, this will create tension. But does not tension already exist in the living of religious life--a tension which is not always growth producing? Religious cannot use the excuse of "obedience" as a reason for what does or does not happen in a religious congregation. Each one is responsible for the quality of life within the community, and cannot let others bear the burden of that responsibility without himself becoming involved. This is a danger, especially in large, congregation.s. There are many discontented religious, discontented in the sense of looking for something more in religious life, a challenge, a way of life that is more meaningful. Just being identified with a large institution is not meaningful or necessarily religious in the sense of living and/or proclaiming the gospel message effectively. This is not to suggest a way of life that is inbred, but rather a means of nurturing the spiritual life in a way that will help to make the apostolate more joyful and perhaps more fruitful. It is a way of giving a support, encouragement, and real Christian freedom cen-tered on the gospel and a communal experience of helping each other to grow into the fullness which is Christ. 504 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 To initiate this process, two or three people who feel comfortable with one another might come together and, after some time taken for reflection, answer the following questions: 1) Why (have I come) am I still in religious life? 2) In which area have I channeled my energy (or let it be channeled) over the last 3, 5, 10, 15 years (prayer, community, apostolate)? 3) What experiences in religious life have freed me to be who God wants me to be--before him, with my confreres, in my apostolate? 4) What has impeded my ability to respond to what I feel the Spirit has asked of me? 5) If I am really honest, what ~teps do I need to take in order to align my life more closely with gospel values? Sharing one's thoughts and feelings about these questions, or others in a similar vein, will begin to help the individual to see the direction God is leading him or her in a communal effort to deepen one's living out of religious life. This paper has only made a small dent in the problem; but, hopefully, some who read it will be creative in finding other ways to begin to act. I would be grateful to have some practical suggestions, ways of im-plementing what. has been suggested in these pages. Perhaps there could follow an article incorporating these practical suggestions at a later date. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS HAS MOVED! As of June 19, the editorial office of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS has relocated from its Grand Boulevard location to its new address: Review for Religious Room 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, MO 63108 Monastic Spirituality in Anglicanism Bede Thomas Mudge, O.H.C. Father Mudge is novice master for his Anglican community, the Order of the Holy Cross. He resides in Holy Cross Monastery; West Park, NY 12493. The Protestant Reformers of the sixteenth century embarked on what they considered to be a radical "renewal" process on behalf of the Church, a process which is not without some parallels to the renewal of contemporary Christianity. Before their energy had spent itself, the Reformers called into qupstion nearly every important institution of European Christianity, and demanded searching, justification, and often, change or abolition. Any institution or custom that was judged to be valueless or hurtful from the point of view of reformed theology was thoroughly rooted out. Among the casualties of this rooting-out were the religious commu-nities. The reasons for their abolition were usually stated in theological or social categories, the most frequently quoted being an abhorrence of cel-ibacy as "unnatural," and a dislike of any lifelong vow other than that of marriage. But there were other, not quite so noble reasons, as well. Many of the religious communitieg were conservative and anything but welcom-ing to the "New Theology," and so served as centers of resistance to the Reformation. In addition, the great wealth of some of them was a scandal to the Reformers, and a temptation to the keepers of government coffers. In every territory where the Reformers' theology gained ascendancy, an intense campaign was launched against the monasteries and conventg, in which the State usually lent its coercive power to the Reformers' fervor. In a remarkably short time, the communities were disbanded, their members 505 506 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 dispersed, and monasticism as an institution ceased to exist in the Re-formed churches) But, alone of the Reformation bodies, Anglicanism never rested easy with the absence of religious orders in its structure. Almost from the time when the Reformation struggle began to quiet, there were voices raised in defense of the reestablishment of religious communities in England, and various public and private proposals were made and discussed. In the seventeenth century an extraordinary community experiment was actually begun by Nicholas Ferrar at LittleGidding, which has exercised a great fascination for Anglicans ever since. Nicholas, together with his extended family, established a quasi-monastic community in which a form of Office was observed that involved the recitation of the entire Psalter twice each day, and a vigorous social apostolate was maintained in the neighborhood. The community did not survive Nicholas' death, however, and suspicion, and anti-Roman prejudice, made it necessary for the reestablishment of traditional monastic com.munities in Anglicanism to wait until the mid-nineteenth century. Even then, religious communities were not established easily or without trials. Persecution, slander and occasional imprisonment rewarded those who dared to import "Romish" doctrines.or institutions into the Church of England, and many of the early experiments in com-munity life had quietness and obscurity forced on them as the price of their survival. But some of the founders did persevere, and eventually their communities grew, and even prospered. In the century and a quarter that have.passed since the reestablishment of religious comriiunities in Anglicanism, these communities have spread and become an accepted part of the Anglican Church scene. Though not numerous nor particularly large by Roman Catholic standards, the Anglican communities have nevertheless been influential, particularly in matters re-lating to the ~piritual life and to social concern. Though it is still not unusual to find people, both outside and inside the Anglican Church, who are only vaguely aware that "there are Episcopal nuns," the communities have gradually gained~ the trust and affection of their Church at large, and are now welcomed and encouraged, whereas at their inception, rejection and persecution were more normal reactions.2 The Spirituality of Anglicanism Any discussion of spirituality in Anglican .religious communities must necessarily take place in the context of the general spirituality of Angli-tThe sixteenth century was, to be sure, a period of low ebb in community life. Very few of the dispersed religious chose to flee to a Catholic territory where they could continue their life. They appear mostly to have settled down quietly, often supported by a government pension, and often they marred. The Carthusian martyrs of London were as remarkable for the rarity of their example, as for their fervor. 2An excellent historical summary of this'period, and histories of the foundations of the various communities can be found in Peter Anson, The Call of the Cloister, SPCK, 1956. Monastic Spirituality in Anglicanism / 507 canism. But, in turn, it would not be possible to speak of Anglican spir-ituality without speaking of monasticism, because Anglican piety, depends heavily on the pre-Reformation monastic influence in England, and par-ticularly that of the Benedictine communities. It has been said that Ben-edictinism influenced English society to a greater extent than was true anywhere else in Europe. England was converted, in large part, by Ben-edictine monks. Its principal schools were operated byBenedictines, its cathedrals and principal churches were largely Benedictine foundations, and Benedictines were widely influential in the government. The Cistercian reform of Benedictinism was also influential in England, and its monasteries large and popular) The influence of the Benedictine tradition was part of the air that every medieval English person breathed. From one's earliest years, through education and into whatever station in life a person be-longed, the influence of the Abbey or Priory was never far away. And this influence was nowhere more pervasive than in the piety of the English people.4 The monastic offices and masses were commonly attended by the public; monastic spirituality was respected; and abbot and monk were part of the common scene, and likely to be respected or even beloved. Though definite Augustinian and Franciscan strains can be discerned in historic Anglican devotion, the example and influence of the Benedictine mon-astery, with its rhythm of divine office and eucharist, the tradition of learn-ing and the lectio divina, and the family relationship among abbot and community were determinative for much English life, and for the pattern of English devotion. This devotional pattern persevered through the spiritual and theological upheavals of the Reformation. The Book of Common Prayer, which was composed during the course of the Reformation, and has been the primary spiritual source-book for Anglicans ever since, continued the basic mo-nastic pattern of the eucharist and the divine office as the principal public forms of worship, and Anglicanism has been unique in this respect. Con-tinental Catholicism developed a devotional pattern centered around the eucharist, with extra-liturgical devotions such as the rosary and benediction filling the needs of most laymen. The office was, in most places, considered the business of the clergy and religious, and since, in its full canonical form, it could only be recited in Latin, it tended to disappear from popular use, except in some of the forms of a "Little Office." Protestantism developed, in most places, a worship pattern that included .very infrequent celebrations of the eucharist, as it was a Reformation principal that the eucharist should. not be celebrated unless the congregation received communion, and most aCudously enough, the purely English communities, such as the Gilbertines, while they did exist, never attained anything like the popularity of the communities which observed the Benedictine Rule. 4This influence of monastic spirituality on Anglican devotion is fully discussed in Martin Thornton, English Spirituality, SPCK, 1963. 5011 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 laymen of the time could not be persuaded to receive frequently. The worship pattern that developed was either a truncated form of the mass, as in Lutheranism, or a more informal worship service, retaining some ele-ments of the office, and supplemented by meetings for free prayer. In England alone it was the divine office that came to occupy a central de-votional position. This development was a direct carry-over from the days in which many people had attended celebrations of the office at the local abbey or priory, particularly Lauds and Vespers. But it owed much of its success to the liturgical genius of Thomas Cranmer, who in his compilation of the offices of Morning Prayer and Evensong produced what Louis Bouyer has referred to as "one of the purest forms of Christian common prayer to be found anywhere in the world."5 The devotion of Anglicans to the office has continued up to the present time. In some parish churches, though admittedly not all by any means, the office is recitedmorning and evening each day, as the Book of Common Prayer has traditionally re-quired. In some places, it is still the principal service of worship on Sun-days, and when groups of Anglicans gather, whether clergy or lay, whether for worship, business or social purposes, it is not unusual to begin the gathering with the recitation of Morning or Evening Prayer.6 The framework supplied by eucharist and office was supplemented, in Anglicanism, by an informal sort of lectio divina, characterized by a de-votion to the reading and pondering of the scriptures and other dex, otional material. When English editions of the Bible first began appearing in parish churches it was often necessary to chain them to the wall or lectern, to prevent people from stealing them for their own use. Later, when the spread of the printing press made the scriptures more available, there was also an extraordinary development of spiritual writing by men such as Jeremy Taylor and William Law, characterized by biblical and patristic inspiration and warm human feeling, and these works were widely circu-lated and read. There is also a deep current of devotion to the writings of the Church Fathers in Anglicanism.It is an Anglican maxim that Anglicans refer to the Fathers in the same way that Roman Catholics refer to the Pope, and Protestants to the Bible. A large proportion of English editions of patristic writings has historically been the work of Anglican editors. There has also been found in traditional Anglican piety, a distinct strain of "homeliness," as it is sometidaes called. A warm, tolerant, human de-votion based on loving persuasion, rather than fiery oratory is part of the Anglican temper. Historically, the Anglican clergy, being family men them-selves, have been very much part of the domestic scene in the villages and 5Louis Bouyer, Liturgical Piety, Notre Dame, 1955, p. 47. 6This is somewhat less common at the present, as under the influence of liturgical r~form, more frequent celebrations of the eucharist are being held, and often supplant the office. But it is worth noting that many Anglicans, including those most eager to center worship around the eucharist, are still uneasy at the loss of the office as a popular form of devotion. Monastic Spirituality in Anglicanism / 51)9 parishes where they served, and have often been loved as well as revered. The Anglican liturgical calendar has more commemorations of faithful pas-tors, such as George Herbert, than of fiery missionaries, and even Anglican martyrs have commonly been of gentle disposition. Anglicanism has always been more attracted by the image of the Church as family, rather than militia, and the similarity evoked to a community of monks, living as a family, under an abbot who leads them as a father, is far from accidental. There is little extravagance in the English temper, and Anglican de-votion is usually characterized by a basic simplicity and directness that shun~ much of the emotionalism and the devotional frills of post-Refor-mation continental piety. In this, the English temper ~naturaily joins hands with the emphasis on biblical centrality that was a chief Reformation prin-ciple~ There is devotion to the Blessed Sacrament and to the saints in Anglicanism, but it is most often drawn from a scriptural and patristic outlook, with an emphasis on simplicity and emotional understatement, and later devotions have had small appeal for Anglicans. Thus, the pattern of Anglican devotion which developed was a modified form of monastic piety; the celebration of the eucharist (though sometimes quite infrequently),7 the regular recitation of the Psalter and proclamation of the scriptures in the office, fleshed out by private pondering of the Bible, the Fathers and other devotional writings, usually of a sober and gentle style. The Restoration of Monasticism The founding of specifically monastic communities in the Church of England began in the middle of the nineteenth century, shortly after the commencement of the "Oxford Movement," whose proponents wished to restore elements of Catholic belief and worship to the Anglican Church. Several communities for women were founded in the 1850's and 1860's, after some faltering starts, and the first lasting community for men followed shortly thereafter. The first communities lived under the suspicious eyes of a public still steeped in anti:papalism, and so the beginnings were cautious and semi,private. Little publicity attended the foundings of the commu-nities, and the public stir raised by even a little publicity was considerable. Against this background, it is not surprising that the first communities went out of their way to justify their existence by a great devotion to works of charity. Social work with the poor, the operation of "penitentiaries" for wayward women, and nursing were favorite occupations, and among the nursing sisters that Florence Nightingale took with her in her famous mis-sion to the Crimea were several sisters of the newly-founded (Anglican) 71n the eighteenth century faith and devotion fell to a very low ebb, and it is related that there was no eucharist on Easter Day in St. Paul's Cathedral in London one year, because the Prayer Book requires that at least two or three members of the congregation receive communion, if there is to be a celebration, and that many communicants could not be found. 510 / Review for Religious,,Volume 37, 1978/4 Society of the Holy Trinity. The often heroic work accomplished by the first members of the communities in slums and with people in desperate con-ditions did much to allay suspicion, and to create an atmosphere of tol-erance for their existence, if not of actual devotion to them. But while the works of the early communities were important and needed, it was the spiritual and communal life which drew applicants, and in this atmosphere the basically monastic pattern of Anglican spirituality, which had survived three centuries after the Reformation, had its inevitable effect. No matter how active the apostolate of the community, thecor-porate recitation of a full form of the office was present in all of the com-munities from the very start,8as was the cultivation of a personal devotional life which was more characteristic of cloistered communities in Roman Catholicism. It is an unusual Anglican community which has not had as part of its tradition the singing of the office to the plainsong melodies, a good deal of corporate silence, and a tradition of the cultivation of an intense devotional life, based on scriptural and patristic sources. The traditional emphasis on monastic learning and writing also appeared, even in very active communities, and a sizeable number of works on prayer and spiritual direction have been produced, which is all the more remarkable considering the relatively small number of Anglican. religious. Nor is it unusual for Anglican laymen to expect that any member of any community will be able to speak about prayer and give spiritual direction. It should also be noted that, with no experience of monasticism closer than three hundred years, and with the traditional freedom of Anglicanism, some of the early experiments in the monastic life were distinctly unfor-tunate. Some were merely bizarre, such as in the excesses of Fr. Ignatius' Benedictines of Llanthony in Wales, .or the Benedictines of Caldey Island, who attempted to recreate a wildly romanticized version of a medieval abbey, but some were unwise in other ways. The combination of heavy and demanding work, coupled with the expectation of full participation in choir and in long hours of prayer with a sometimes rigorous asceticism taught several communities the lesson of moderation the hard way. But such mistakes were largely unavoidable. Few bishops would have anything to do with the developing communities, for fear of being labeled "Romanist," and the ecumenical movement was far in the future, so the only advice to be gained from Roman Catholic religious was: "convert!" Experienced guidance was simply unavailable. The lessons of the Desert Fathers and of medieval monasticism had to be learned again, by experiment, in nine-teenth century England. But in spite of mistakes and misjudgments, the monastic experiment in Anglicanism took root, prospered and spread. There are now a large num-ber of communities in England, and others in former English colonies, as SUsually an English translation of the Roman Breviary. Monastic Spirituality in Anglicanism well oaS indigenous communities in Africa, the Far East and the South Pacific. !n the American Episcopal Church there are approximately twenty communities, about two-thirds of them for women. With time came not only numerical growth, but also a gradual acceptance by the mainstream of the Church, and with this acceptance a freedom to adopt usages and customs to taste. But whereas it might have been expected that this freedom would lead to a divergence of types of religious life, the pattern has, in fact, remained surprisingly consistent and true to traditional mo-nastic roots. Anglicanism has not, to this time at least, developed "active" com-munities, and the expressions of the religious life that presently attract the largest numbers in the Roman Catholic Church are completely absent from the Anglican scene. There arena few cloistered orders for men and for women, but the majority of the communities are classified as "mixed" in the traditional terminology. All have a tradition of a corporate Office, often an English translation of the Benedictine breviary, and the office is com-monly sung to plainsong where the numbers permit it.9 All have a deep commitment to the life of prayer, and have developed timetables and physical surroundings that enabled them to foster this prayer. A family style of government usually prevails, with a superior who is elected by all of the professed members, and a chapter that usually consists of all of the mem-bers of the community. This has been possible because of the small size of most of the communities. Anglican communities have never grown in num-bers beYond about four to five hundred, and the vast majority have had less than fifty professed at any one time. The family ethos has been carried over into the apostolate of the community, which has nearly always been carried out in a community context, and rarely by individuals outside the com-munity. But a wide latitude has usually been available inside the family context, with individuals often encouraged to develop their own talents and abilities. It may be objected that the absence of the figure of the abbot or abbess would make it difficult to classify a community as "Benedictine." Most Anglican communities do, in fact, have a regularly elected "superior," with a limited term of office, and not much of the mystique of abb, atial dignity. The Anglican. communities would, admittedly, need to be classified as a hybrid form of Benedictinism on this a~count. But it is also true that ~he size ¯ of most Anglican communities, together~ with their traditional family ethos, have conspired to make the superior much more of a "mother" or "father" than an executive. We can also note that a limited term of office is more and more characteristic even of abbots in the Roman Catholic communities 9It is sometimes surprising to Roman Catholics how few may be "required." If they have good voices (and sometimes if they don't) a house composed of three or four Anglican religious will sombtimes maintain a full sung office. 512 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 these days. The title of Anglican superiors has usually not been "abbot," but the reality is often not far removed from the traditional abba. The pattern of community life that has been described has had one development that came as a surprise to many of the early religious, and runs counter to the .historical development of western monasticism. The first religious in the west were contemplatives, with active communities de-veloping only later. In Anglicanism, the first communities were forced to be active in order to justify themselves, but always maintained as much touch with the monastic tradition as circumstances allowed. With such an im-petus, some of the religious quickly developed contemplative vocations, and the communities eventually responded by making room in their struc-ture for living ,such ,vocations, after suitable testing. More than this, several entire omr~nities have gradually been called to an exclusively contem-plative vo.cation after° a very active beginning. The Society of the Holy Trinity, ".the Sisters of the Precious Blood, and the Community of the Holy Cross, all .English women'.s communities, had very active beginnings, with demanding social apostolates, and all have given up most of their external works and become .contemplative communities. Side by side with this de-velopment, there have been several attempts through the yeffrs to establish traditionally "Benedictine" ,communities, properly so-called, and several of these attempts have been successful. There are, of course, exceptions to the pattern outlined, as for instance, the sizeable Society of St. Francis, and the Community of the Glorious Ascens!on, which is based on a model roughly similar to the Little Brothers of Jesus. But these are more recent developments, and have necessarily .bee6 ch~ aracterized by a certain self-.consciousness about their ethos, which has, served as a battlement against the tides that have swept most Anglican religious communities into a remark.ably similar pattern and style. Cow,temporary Renewal It is obvious from this analysis that the history of religious life in the ~.n.glican Church has several marked differences to that in the Roman C,a.tholic communion. Anglican com~.unities are of relatively recent date, .and many of them have older members who are within memory, or at least within one gbneration, of their foundin, g. Having often begun on an active pattern, the communities have grad~a,!!y developed a more traditionally monastic life, and this has been done as .the result of a consensus of the members 9f the community. The offiC.~'~ habit, times of silence and such, have been deliberately chosen, often against a background of some per- .secution. This necessarily means that'ii~e pattern of renewal in Anglican communities has been quite different from most Roman Catholic com-munities. Since Anglican communities are reasonab.ly close, historically, to the decisions that formed the pattern of their. !ife, and since these decisions Monastic Spirituality in Anglicanism / 513 have usually been made by consensus of the community, there has been little reason to view the details of their lives as imposed by an outside authority. In addition, the religious orders have never been seen as a pri-mary source of personnel for social or missionary work. Anyone whose real calling is to a social ministry or a missionary vocation has always had many other options in the Anglican framework, and few people have entered the communities without some leaning, at least, toward monastic observances. This has caused the outward forms of .the recent renewal to appear con-servative by Roman Catholic standards. Though members of the men's communities have, on occasion, worn secular clothing for some years, all of them retain their habit at least for corporate worship and for formal occasions. Among the women's communities habits have usually been modified only slightly, if at all, and the number of women religious who regularly wear secular dress is very small. The office continues to be said by all communities, and if four offices a day rather than seven o~' eight is becoming a common pattern, they are often quite traditional in form, and continue to be sung to plainsong. A wider variety of work or ministry is often now available, but many of the traditional works continue, and some of the communities are moving, if anything, in a more contemplative di-rection. Anglican religious have, for the most part, deliberately chosen the observances of traditional monasticism, and are not eager to be rid of them. But it would be a mistake to assume, since renewal has not changed Anglican communities much externally, that their reform has been shallow. In many communities there has been a deep and searching process of change in the spirit that lay behind the observances. This has occurred, not surprisingly, in a direction dictated by the tradition that lies behind most Anglican communities. The. urge towards deeper and more authentic prayer has already been alluded to. There has also been a movement toward the deepening of the "family" ethos which has always been the ideal. Various structures of behavior, largely from the Victorian era (when many of our communities were founded) have been laid aside, and an emphasis on human relationships, the possibility of deep friendships, and an increasing emphasis on government by consensus have been common. Above all, there has been a struggle to advance the priority of the human element over legalistic requirement. In addition, Anglican communities have often been the centers of creative change in the liturgical field as well, and, while their experiments may seem somewhat conservative in comparison to similar situations in Roman Catholic communities, they have not infrequently been quite advanced by the standards of an ordinary Anglican or Episcopal parish. There has been at least one additional change in the past decades that is more difficult to chart or document, but it is of great importance to Anglican religious. A growing sense of'confidence in their own identity has gradually made itself felt. Born without parents, so to speak, Anglican 514 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 communities had to develop with little outside advice and no Anglican tradition to guide them, and all of this in an era when "doing it right" was very important. Anglican~ engaged in the founding of religious communities were surrounded by fellow Anglicans, on the one side, screaming "heresy," and by Roman Catholics, on the other, accusing them of being inauthentic imitations of no consequence; and the accusations were some-times, at least, half believed. This caused the adoption of many curious and sometimes inauthentic customs because "the Romans are doing it." But a century and a quarter of maturing, and the recent currents of change have brought relief from the concept that there was only one way to be correctly religious. A feeling of solidity and authenticity is beginning to pervade Anglican communities, where before there was some glancing over the shoulder to see if we were still doing it correctly. The history of religious communities in Anglicanism has been different from Roman Catholic com-munities; their problems have been different, and so the course of their renewal has been different, as will be their future form. Anglican com-munities have been called by God to serve a Church which is characterized by conservative liturgies, a deep sense of the awe and mystery of worship, and great freedom in doctrinal and social matters. The communities reflect this pattern, as they must, if they are to be authentic servants in the An-glican communion. "You're Benedictine, of course" Not infrequently these days, Anglican religious are invited to meetings of Roman Catholic religious, and often asked to describe their community. Normally the reply is that there is no exact counterpart to our life in the Roman Catholic Church, but that we have found our own expression of the religious life. But when asked to describe that expression in detail, it is interesting to note how often the reply is: "Oh, you're Benedictine, of course." Though only a few of our communities have sought to identify themselves as Benedictines or even tried consciously to imitate a Bene-dictine pattern, this reaction can hardly be a surprise. From their inception, Anglican communities have operated under the influence of a devotional pattern that took its'inspiration from Benedictine and Cistercian ab-beysmthe pattern of a family, deeply united by prayer and the liturgy, pondering the scriptures and other writings, and overflowing from its de-votional life in a gentle, caring ministry to those around them. It is a pattern that has been inherited fi:om a nation whose monks, scholars, teachers, historians, rulers, missionaries and martyrs were often either Benedictines themselves or under direct Benedictine influence, and the pattern has proved surprisingly stable, through the changes and reforms of several generations:' The pattern which Pope Gregory the Great hoped to plant in England when, in the seventh century, he sent. Augustine to Canterbury to convert the English people still perseveres, not only in England, but in large Monastic Spirituality in Anglicanism / 515 parts of the world. And this pattern, to which the name "Benedictine" is often given, has proved sturdy enough that it served as the model and guide for religious life when it was revived after three hundred years of absence in Anglicanism. Reeds The wind is voiceless until it finds an instrument: the long-drawn sough and sigh of conifers the maples" glee the oaks" deep diapason untutored symphony. I stood apart to hear them all together: acaccia sprinkled bells upon the air and chaliced elms' glad notes all spilling exultant as the skylark's trilling The beech clapped drily cadence keeping Only my song was still. The Spirit came in wind, then, (I had long known .the fire fed by the oils of my anointing) I listened there upon the hillside: "'Peace," said the wind upon me Peace unto all whom I meet "Peace," and the winds grew quiet "Peace! I am with you-- Know my peace." Mary R. Quinn 1201 Canton Ave. Baltimore, MD 21227 Compassion: A Spirituality for Today M. Corita Clarke, R.D.C. Sister Corita, a Sister of the Divine Compassion, is Chairperson of the Religious Studies Department of Preston High School. She resides at the school; 2780 Schurz Ave.; Bronx, NY ! 0465. ~nterest, concern, even fascination for the quest for a viable personal spirituality is as old as the history of primitive religions and as contem-porary as today's newspaper. To some persons the renewed interest in spirituality in this decade of the twentieth century seems an anachronism or a fad. Yet even a cursory study of the experience of people today, whether viewed through the eyes of the historian, the psychologist or the theologian, indicates that the phenomenon of such a renewal is a very natural devel-opment. Both an older generation which has survived the effects of worldwide wars, nuclear holocausts, genocide attempts and concentration camp realities, and a younger generation which has grown up in the more affluent yet tension-ridden, de-personalized milieu of the computerized world of technopolis, are responding to their deepest human yearnings in their search for a spiritual dimension to their lives. Centuries ago St. Augustine shared the insight that "God is always more." I think that the conviction born of human experience and the Judaeo-Christian revelation is that "so is man, always more," called to become, to grow, to move beyond wherever he is, to realize his human potential--also for intimacy with the divine! Spirituality is concerned with this search for the transcendent dimension to life both beyond and within the person, and with the mode of living which flows from its apprehension. We have the capacity ~to live a "spiritual" life because as human persons we possess an inner spirit which is the principle of our conscious life and 516 Compassion: A Spirituality for Today / 517 the source of our integration as persons. Through this spirit we are capable of an intuition of the transcendent, of a reflective awareness of ourselves and of a depth dimension within ourselves, and are conscious of our ability for self-transcendence. In our Christian experience spirituality flows from an awareness of the Spirit of God within us, and our spiritual life is a lived response to this Spirit within, in an attempt to facilitate or mediate the further presence of that Spirit of God in the world. It is my conviction that the basis for a relevant Christian spirituality for today is to be found in a clear understanding of the quality of compassion. It will be within the scope of this paper to look at compassion from various angles in order to see the richness contained in this human virtue and to realize more clearly its relation to our experience of transcendence and our challenge to live our spirituality as compassionate persons. The Experience of Transcendence Any attempt to elaborate a contemporary spirituality comes up against the enduring tension between transcendence and immanence, between that which calls us beyond and that which cries out for recognition in the here and now. I would like first to strive for a greater clarity in our understanding of the category of the transcendent, and then proceed to an analysis of compassion as providing the key to reconciling these seeming antinomies. James Fowler has defined faith as "the knowing or construing by which persons apprehend themselves as related to the Transcendent.''~ For Fowler, the Transcendent is the ultimate condition of existence, the Being we have in religious faith called God, and a person's relationship to the Transcendent involves power, limitations, and the sources of value and meaning of existence. In the Judaeo-Christian religious tradition this has involved a personal relationship to a God whose presence has been ex-perienced by individuals and by the community. In addition to this specific religious terminology, the adjective transcendent and the noun transcen-dence have wide usage in a more secular sense. Abraham Maslow has given thirty five definitions or explanations of transcendence which can be sum-marized in his statement that transcendence."refers to the very highest and most inclusive or holistic levels of human consciousness, behaving and relating, as ends rather than as means, to oneself, to significant others, to human beings in general, to other species, to nature, and to the cosmos.''z And even here, in those who can experience such full humanness, those whom Maslow calls "transcenders," there is the "ability to perceive the ~James W. Fowler III, "Toward A Developmental Perspective on Faith," Religious Ed-ucation, LXIX (March-April, 1974), p. 207. ZAbraham Maslow, The Farther Reaches of Human Nature (New York, Viking Press, 1971), p. 275. 511~ / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 sacred within the secular, or the sacredness in all things at the same time, ,,3 Within this notion of transcendence are all those movements, experiences or realities which beckon persons on, which disturb complacency and call us beyond, which alert us to the "more" in human life and our own personal existence, which sociologist Peter Berger has called "hints" or "signals" of the Transcendent,4 and which are the source of~Augustine's "restless-ness" of heart. When the noun transcendence becomes converted to a verb, we have also the notion of self-transcendence, that movement of a person beyond self-interest or concern because of a focus on another~person, an ideal or a goal. In its richest manifestations, self-transcendence is an act of love, the highest form of human activity. Viktor Frankl has written that "Human existence is essentially self-transcendence not self-actualization,''s and contemporary psychology b~ars witness to this capacity for self-sacrifice as an essential norm of full human maturity. We will return to this aspect of self-transcendence in our treatment of compassion. When a person becomes aware of the transcendent dimension of life, and especially when that awareness leads to the Transcendent God, the result is, in the words of Abraham Heschel, awe. Awe is a sense for the transcendence, for the reference everywhere to mystery beyond all things. It enables us to perceive in the world intimations of the divine, to sense in small things the beginning of infiniti~ significance, to sense the ultimate in the common and the simple; to feel in the rush of the passing the stillness of the eternal.6 For Heschel, faith is, as it is for Fowler, an attachment to the Trans-cendent, to the attractiveness of a God Who hides himself in mystery. Yet ¯ the biblical revelation tells us that beyond all mystery is meaning. "God is neither plain meaning nor just mystery. God is meaning that transcends mystery . meaning that speaks through mystery.''7 When the God who is, by the very nature of his being, Transcendent, attempts to speak through mystery and reaches out into the realm of human experience, we speak of tiis becoming immanent to us, to his creation. How does this mystery express itself?. Heschel says it is the destiny of human persons "to articulate what is concealed. The divine seeks to be disclosed in the human."s In our discussion of spirituality we have stated that our spirituality flows aIbid., p. 283. 4Peter L. Berger, A Rumor of Angels (New York, Doubleday, 1969). ~Viktor Frankl, Man's Search for Meaning (New York, Washington Square Press, 1963), p. 175. 6Abraham J. Heschel, Who Is Man? (Stanford, California, Stanford University Press, 1969), p. 89. 71bid., p. 77. 6Ibid., p. 77. Compassion: A Spirituality for Today / 519 from our apprehension of the divine, of the Spirit within and 'without, and is our mode of living which attempts to incarnate the presence of God. It is precisely in this understanding of God which we discern from the biblical revelation, and in the consequent imperatives for our Christian life, that I believe an understanding of compassion plays such a central role. It is my conviction that the divine (the Transcendent) has revealed itself as com-passion, and that therefore the human discloses the divine through a spirituality that is founded on compassion. While subsequently I will de-lineate our experience and exercise of compassion as an expression of spirituality, I would like first to examine compassion as formative of our spirituality through an analysis of the divine compassion. Human com-passion and divine compassion are not dichotomies nor polarities, they are rather reciprocal concepts. There is only one real source of compassion and that is God's compassion. As Henri Nouwen has reminded us, "Our com-passion is nothing more or less than a participation in and a reflection of this divine compassion,''9 The Divine Compassion: The Bridge In his penetrating study, The Prophets,1° Abraham Heschel analyzes with depth and clarity the Old Testament revelation of the divine pathos, which he sees as the bridge between the transcendence and mystery of God and Israel's grasp of his love. For the Israelite, pathos is the expression of the attitude of attentive care and concern of God for his people. When Moses asked Yahweh his name, he received the reply, 'Yahweh, Yahweh, a God of tenderness and compassion" (Ex 34:5-6). In a recent issue of Spiritual Life, Kevin O'Shea suggests "that the divine nature is Com-passion, that God is to be defined by the heart of tenderness he has opened out tb us."11 This portrayal of Israel's God as a God of Pathos (the opposite - of apathy) is in sharp contrast to the gods of other nations of their t!me, who were distant (like the god of the philosophers), or impersonal, or presented as having human limitations such as jealousy and vindictiveness. The ex-pression of Yahweh's compassion was not mere feeling or emotion on the part of God, but was displayed in his active reaching out toward Israel--a God "in search of man.''~ The initial experience of Yahweh's concern was the covenant, which not only manifested God's mercy and great love, but also challenged Israel to grow as God's people through her response to his love. When Israel faltered or failed in her fidelity, the divine pathos re-vealed itself in anger and correction. In Heschel's words, God's "pathos is 9Henri Nouwen, "Compassion: The Core of Spiritual Leadership," Worship Jubilee (January, 1977), p. 21. 10Abraham Heschel, The Prophets (Vol. II) (New York, Harper & Row, 1975). nKevin O'Shea, C.SS.R., "Enigma and Tenderness," Spiritual Life, 21 (Spring, 1975), p. 18. 590 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 both a disclosure of his concern and a concealment of his power."12 The mission of the prophet in Israel was to articulate the nature and extent of the divine pathos, and to call the people to live the reality of their election. It was through his privileged insight into the experience of the pathos of God that the prophet developed his sympathy.(sym-pathos) for the concern of God. Seized by the power of this revelation, he was com-pelled to speak Yahweh's wrrd. Though his sympathy had as its source and focus the divine pathos, it was like that of Yahweh's, directed towards the people, the object of Yahweh's love. As Yahweh had identified himself with Israel (e.g., "My people," what was done to Israel was done to "Us"), so the prophet identified himself with the people, and each, from Moses to the last prophet, lived his vocation within the limitations and struggles of his time and history. God's involvement with Israel can be found on every page of the prophetic works. As with Jeremiah they experienced his word as a burning fire within, ~ind usually endured great personal suffering to deliver what was often an unpopular message. The hardheartedness of Israel is in sharp contrast to the loving relationship God was offering them: You whom I have taken from the ends of the earth and summoned from its far-off places, You whom I have called my servant whom I have chosen and will not cast off-- Fear not, I am with you; be not dismayed; I am your God. I will strengthen you, and help you, and uphold you with my right hand of justice (Is 41:9-10). In return, Yahweh asked a response of love; a love which when directed toward him would be fidelity and when shared with one another would flow out injustice. Micah encapsuled the covenant call in the beautiful text from 6:8: This is what Yahweh asks of you: to act justly to love tenderly and to walk humbly with your God, The psalmist who sang over and over that Yahweh's compassion and mercy endure forever, the prophet who spoke for Yahweh, "with ever-lasting love I will have compassion on you, says the Lord, your Redeemer" (Is 54:8), and Abraham Heschel who insists that the biblical message is not an abstraction but the "certainty that the Creator is the Redeemer"~3--all point to a reality which can only be understood in its fullness by one who has come to know Jesus. The pathos of God gave its utmost expression of love and concern in the incarnation and redemption of Jesus. Jesus comes as compassion incarnate, ~2Heschel, The Prophets, Vol. II, p. 12. ~albid., p. 47. Compassion: A Spirituality for Today / 52"1 as the prophet who not only fully apprehended the divine pathos, but is himself its visible embodiment. "God in search of man" becomes man himself and bridges .the gulf between transcendent mystery and human experience. Jesus, like the prophetic types before him, embraces the reality and consequences of being truly human. As Paul records in the early Chris-tian hymn: He emptied himself and took the form of a slave being born in the likeness of men. He was known to be of human estate, and it was thus that he humbled himself, obediently accepting even death, death on a cross! (Ph 2:7-8). Against the background of old Testament prophecy, Jesus is presented in the New Testament as the Prophet, one caught up in the message he has received from the Father, as he reiterates frequently in the Johannine tradition. His life is a lived experience of the reality of his perception of the Father's love. God's concern and love are his own, and he lives the im-plications of his message to their ultimate consequences. Jesus expresses his mission in the vision of the Isaian prophecy: He has come for the poor, the captives,, the blind and the.downtrodden, to proclaim the good news of the Father's love'(Lk 4:18; Is 61:1-2). He teaches his followers how to love one another (Jn 14:34-5), to be compassionate as their Father is compassionate (Lk 6:36-38), and gives concrete examples in his parables: the forgiving father of the prodigal son (Lk 15:11-32), and the compassionate Samaritan (Lk 10:25-37). He chal-lenges them to the self-transcendence involved in taking up one's cross daily (Lk 9:23-25), and gives them the witness of his own loving response to all whom he encounters along the way. He eats with sinners, embraces little children, weeps over Jerusalem, and identifies with the feelings and needs of the sick, the bereaved, the hungry, the repentant. His ministry is one of healing, forgiving, challenging, and total self-giving, and he suffers and dies for the truth of his message. In the life-giving power of his death and resurrection, the compassion of God has its supreme expression. In contrast to Rudolph Bultmann, who sees the Cross of Jesus as a stumbling block of Christianity, a contemporary Anglican writer, Alistar Kee, sees it as the most meaningful challenge to the Church today in its role to embody the life of Jesus in our time. Kee opts for a reinterpretation of Christian theology which would focus on J~sus as "the way of trans-cendence, in contrast to the way of immanence which characterizes the lives of individuals.''14 He believes that Jesus' total self-transcendence in his acceptance of the cross provides persons today with a powerful example ~4Alistar Kee, The Way of Transcendence (England, Penguin, 1971), p. 159. 522 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 which is "a consistent option" for human life, and which in reality is the only road to fulfillment. A Theology of Compassion Among the New Testament writers, perhaps none has presented this centrality of the cross to the Christian message more clearly than St. Paul, who saw his vocation to "preach Christ crucified" (1 Co 1:23). The cross for Paul was the. basic paradox of Christianity, and I think his compre-hension of its meaning both in the life of Jesus and in his own life formed the foundation for his theology of compassion. Paul personally experienced the compassion of God in his call from Judaism to preach the gospel of Jesus. "I am the least of the apostles; in fact, because I persecuted the Church of God, I do not even deserve the name. But by God's favor I am what I am. This favor of his to me has not proved fruitless" (1 Co 15:9-10). In his missionary work and sufferings, he was aware of the Lord's constant support and love. His mission and his letters to the Corinthian church are among the clearest loci for elucidating his theology. It would take many pages to elaborate on Paul's experiences and his teaching, but perhaps a brief outline will be sufficient. Like the prophets before him, Paul was captured' by the Word of the Lord. He became aware of God's mercy and love for him, and desired to share this love and this message with others to whom he was sent. Preach-ing the gospel was often surrounded With sufferings of all kinds, yet Paul could testify: He comforts us in all our afflictions and thus enables us to comfort those who are in trouble with the same con-solation we have received from hiha. As we have shared much in the suffering of Christ, so through Christ do we share abundantly in his consolation (2 Co 1:4-5). Paul, like Jesus and the prophets before him, identified with the people to whom he ministered, and this identification was chiefly in their weakness and sinfulness, where the presence and power of God was most clearly evident. For Paul, this power of God was revealed uniquely in the death and resurrection of Jesus (1 Co 1:18~25). For the Ch.ristian, the death of Jesus has become the source of life--weakness has triumphed in God. Christ ". was crucified out of weakness, but he lives by the power of God. We too are weak in him, but we live with him by God's power in us" (2 Co 13:4). This conviction that it is in the experience of weakness that he meets the compassionate Lord, is also expressed by Paul in one of the rare glimpses he gives us into his personal prayer. After three times begging the Lord to remove a source of temptation, he received the response, "My Compassion: A Spirituality for Today / 593 grace is enough for you, for in weakness, power reaches perfection." Paul concluded, "And so I willingly boast of my weakness instead, that the power of Christ may rest upon me" (2 Co 12:9), ". for when I am .powerless it is then that I am strong" (12:10). The outgrowth of Paul's experience of God's love and grace is a powerful sense of gratitude. "We seem to have nothing, yet everything is ours" (2 Co 6:10). This sense of being gifted by God is the foundation not only of thankfulness to God, but also the basis for the kind of love for one another that Paul believed should characterize the Chris.tian community. Among all the Lord's gifts, none is as important as love, which is a gift of divine power. In Paul's famous description of Christian love in 1 Corinthians 13 we have the supreme challenge to respond to God's love. This agape which involves such geotleness, forbearance and selflessness can only come from one who has come to terms with his own weakness and his strengthening through God's love for him. It is the bond uniting the ¯ community and it results in a shared compassion: "If one member suffers, all the members suffer with it; if one member is honored, all the members share its joy" (1 Co 12:26). Compassion for Paul seems to involve first a participation in the death dimension of Jesus' life by experiencing his own finitude and limitation. Then through faith in Jesus and baptism 'into his death, Paul shares in the life-giving power of God, acting in him as it did in the resurrection of Jesus. To the Christians of Rome Paul sent the powerful reminder: Are you not aware that we who were baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? Through baptism into his death~ we were buried with him, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might live a new life (Rm 6:3-4). Speaking of his ministry Paul writes to the Corinthians: This treasure we possess in earthen vessels to make it clear that its sur-passing power comes from God and not from us. We are afflicted in every way possible, but we are not crushed; full of doubts, we never despair. We are persecuted but never abandoned; we are struck down but never destro.y. Con-tinually we carry about in our bodies the dying of Jesus, so that in our bodies the life of Jesus may be revealed. While we live we are constantly being delivered to death for Jesus" sake, so that the life of Jesus may be revealed in our mortal flesh (2 Co 4:7-11). 594 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 This experience of the divine compassion is in turn the source of Paul's love and understanding of others in their weakness, and of his urging them to share their love with one another. This mutual living in love is the strength of the community which fulfills Paul's exhortation to compas-sionate living: "Rejoice with those who rejoice; weep with those who weep" (Rm 12:15). With the background of this brief survey of the pathos of God, the divine compassion revealed in Jesus, and Paul's experience and teaching of the centrality of the Paschal Mystery in Christian life, we possess a foundation for the thesis that Christian theology is essentially a theglogy of compas-sion. If the biblical revelation which underlies our Christian faith is of a Transcendent God who bridges the infinite gulf between himself and us by the reality of his divine pathos, then our challenge in contemporary Chris-tianity is to discover ourselves not only as recipients of his compassionate love, but also as called to incarnate that love in our world through living a spirituality of compassion. A Description of Compassion Before discussing some implications for spirituality based on compas-sion, I would like to refine our understanding of the attitude of compassion and consider some valuable insights from a variety of sources and disci-plines. The richness contained in this concept, and its essential role in human relationships can only be touched on in a paper such as this, but hopefully, it will open up further areas for reflection and development. In its Latin derivation compassion literally means "to suffer with" (compatior). We have seen in the scriptural usage that it always implies some form of identification with human suffering. When speaking of God's compassion, the term often used was "mercy," from the Latin, miseri-cordia. Mercy denotes tenderness of heart, felt and expressed toward an-other, but at times its usage implies an attitude of condescension expressed toward an offender or one suffering disfavor or misfortune. In this sense it is closer to pity. When mercy flows from a loving heart which recognizes and identifies with the feeling and experience of the other, and promotes an appropriate response, it is closer to compassion. For Thomas Aquinas, God's mercy was known by its effects, and flowed from his goodness and love: To sorrow over the misery of others belongs not to God; but it does most properly belong to him to dispel that misery, whatever be the defect we call by that name. Now defects are not removed except by the perfection of some kind of goodness: and the primary source of goodness is God.~ ~Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologica, Vol. I (New York, Benziger, 1947), q. 21, a. 3. Compassion: A Spirituality for Today / 525 God's mercy, which has been called his supreme attribute, is never mere feeling, but always manifests itself in action. The New Testament abounds with examples of how Jesus, when moved with compassion, healed (the blind, the leper, the sick who approached him), forgave (the paralytic, the woman at Simon's house, the soldiers at the foot of the cross), or restored life (the widow's son, the brother of Martha and Mary). In an analogous way, human mercy is not measured by feeling but by concrete proofs, and when this expression of mercy flows from a sense of solidarity with the one who suffers, it is what we call compassion. As Rahner has written, "He who shows mercy receives more than he gives--the clear vision of his own emptiness which alone prevents him from losing the fullness he has re-ceived.''~ 6 Such an attitude preserves mercy from the taint of condescen-sion, and is a recognition of the Pauline theme that it is only in our aware-ness of our own weakness that we can experience God's power and be empowered to be a source of strength for others. The universality of this call to compassion can be seen by an awareness of its importance in many religious traditions in addition to the Judaeo- Christian revelation. A prime example of this is found in Buddhism where compassion is regarded as the highest virtue and is complementary to.the gift of wisdom. The Buddha had discovered the cosmic norm of truth through his attainment of wisdom (Pann6), and it was his primary desire to share this wisdom with those still enmeshed in the world of suffering. This compassion (Karuni~) was an outgrowth of his own contemplation, and hence, Buddha is designated a contemplative in action~ne whose self-enlightenment resulted in good for others. His compassion prevented his wisdom from being mere detached speculation, and his wisdom kept com-passion from being mere sentiment. Buddhism today (e.g., Mahay~tna Bud-dhism) continues this emphasis on the need to effect a liberation for men and women of our time. Because of our common destiny, compassion is viewed as the greatest reality. It is not achieved without great personal detachment, and thus involves the same renouncement and other-center-edness we have spoken of in connection with Jesus and the Christian's participation in the Paschal Myster

Issue 35.3 of the Review for Religious, 1976. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is edited by faculty members of St. Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boule-yard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. Published bimonthly and copyright (~ 1976 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Composed, printed, and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $2.00. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $7.00 a year; $13.00 for two years; other countries, $8.00 a year, $15.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order payable to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Robert Williams, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Book Editor Assistant Editor May 1976 Volume 35 Number 3 Renewals, new subscriptions, and changes of address should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELICIOUS; P.O. BOX 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Correspondence with the editor and the associate editor together with manuscripts and books for review should be sent to REVIEW FOrt RELIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boule-vard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsyl-vania 19131. Obedience to MiSsion Sister Barbara Hendricks, M.M. Sister Barbara :Hendricks .,is a Maryknoll Sister who was missioned to Peru from 1953 until 1970. Sinc_e. then, she has been President of. the Congr.e, gation. She resides at /;he Sisters ~enter; Maryknoll, NY 10545, when not vi~siting her sisters missioned throughout t,he world. Th~s arhcle is from a talk that was given "at a Renewal. 'Week-end held ~t the,Provincial House 0f the Notre Dame. de Namur Sisters in Maryland on Janti~ary 24~26~ 1976. Introduction ~ - We live~ at°a momerit when the Church is appr6achin~g a fuller interpreta-tion of ~ts mission. We are_ beginning to understand that the Good News of Salvation in Jesus is neither dee~lless worff nor woi'dless deed; it is rather an ini~gral r(spo~se to th.e many critnic naele hdsu Imt ias s a l.v a"t iio!n " w oh i"ch can 'iServade and heal the phys, i~al, ps~cliological and spiritual wounds Of the world.We are conwnced that salvation begins now and that somehow we hav6 to have an experience of it in b~urlives ~is persons an~ as com-munities. Salvation is not ~omething ihat will only~ happen in eternity, but there must be a beglnmng of the~Klngdom here on earth. If this is true, then, holiness is not only,. ,apersonal transformation but it is meant to flow ~ut~vard infb human relationshipsi~both inte.r,-personal anal S~ructural.~ In the early sixties 'in South America we began to hear .the word "evan~gelizati~n,' beiqg used to 'dbscribe ihe essential task oof the Church. It was not a new w~d for those bf us who used to call ourselves "foreign mi~siona~ries.'' It was s~rt of our ;~thi~g." It meant going out there beyond the Church community to. preach the 'Gospel and plant the Church¯ Our articulated theology of mission put heavy emphasis on our "spiritual mis-sion" but in actual fact, we spent a good deal of our time engaged in the 322 / Review /or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/3 corporal works of mercy. A lot of debate started then" about what this Mission of Evangelization really means. It has been hot and heavy. The 1974 Synod on Evangelization and the latest Apostolic Exhortation, Evangelii Nuntiandi, are signs that the Church is indeed deeply concerned with Mission. For some Christians "evangelization" has meant recruiting new mem-bers, religious instruction of converts, teaching catechism, cultivating an inner spirituality or preaching missions in parishes and dioceses. For others, especially in the 1960's, it began to mean serious social action: promoting civil rights and concern for human dignity, witnessing to justice and peace or liberation from all forms of economic and political oppression. In more recent years, for certain groups in the Church it has come to mean a closely-knit, mutually supportive inter-personal community of shared wit-ness and prayer, highly alert to the presence of the Spirit, healing and reconciling. Our choice of definition depended a great deal on our own personal history, and the needs we experienced in ourselves ~and in the milieu around us. I think that the Holy Spirit has something to do with the recognition of 6ach of these dimensions of the evangelizing mission of the Church, and although we engaged in heated debates during these last ten years as we struggled to live out and espress an authentic con-temporary theology of mission, most of us knew that somehow we had to bring it all together, that our mission had to reflect the mission of Jesus in its entirety. The era of debate is subsiding as we move into the latter.half, of the 1970's. We Christians are beginning to listen to each other and tq the Word of God spoken and still speaking in our midst. We are now more concerned with the message itself, realizing that method is only the sec-ondary problem. Mission is .both message and method; btit with6ut a clear understanding of the.message, the method b6comes a lifeless, mean-ingless exercise of communication skills. So our main concern, then," is what is the "Message of Salvation" and how are we as religious, as apostolic people,~ to proclairh it in life, in work and in~word. More than. ten years ago, at the close of Vatican II, we were left with three docu-ments on the natui"e of the Church and its mission in the world; Lumen Gentium, Gaudium et Spes and Ad G~ntes. I have a feeling iha~°today we should put them together in a coordinated and harmonious integration. It was typical of the 1960'siha~ three distinct documents were needed to describe the same subject--t.he Church. It will be typical of these next ten years that theology of mission will c6nstruci a ~ynthesis of the many aspe~cts of evangelization to be lived and articulated. The Obedience o[ ~lesus In Saint Matthew's Gospel (3:13-17), we read: "As soon as Jesus was baptized, he came up from the water, and suddenly the heavens Obedience to Mission / 323 opened and he saw.,the Spirit of God descending like a dove and coming down on him. And a voice spoke from heaven,' 'This is my Son, the Be-loved.; my favor rests on him.'" Jesus' missior~ comes,~from the Father, who, confirms~ in i~im Lh)s missibn of salvation for hum'anity. All. mission is initiat6~ by the Father~ who consecrates and sends. This is the beginning of Jesus" public ministry ' "he is 'sent by the Father." ~ 'Immediately after his 'ba~p,t!sm, Jesus is led by the Spirit into the wilder-ness, where he is confronted by the demonic power. He is° tempted three times and in his responses we have presented to. us wh~t I would call "guidelines for our mission." We can apply them to ourselves personally, to our rehg~ous °communities and to the broader Church. They have to do with the means we take.~t~pro~iaim the Good N~ws: -First. Jesus is tempted to turn stones into l~read. He responds, "man does n~'t qive on bread alone but on every word that ~omes from the mouth of G0'd." To satisfy physica~ hunger 'without at the same time" providing the Word of God, the Bread of Life, is. to otier°a partial salvation. Mission conceived of as promoung matei'i]~l well-being' without the dialogue of faith arid th~' sharing of the W6rd i~ not authentic Christian mission. ° " "Second. Jesus is tempted to display his power grid at{ract by the forc~ bf ~livine intervention.'H replies; "You must not put the Lord, your God to the test." Jesus' mission is not to perform prodigies and thus draw to him-self thos+o~vho admire power and prestige, but rather it is to transform hearts 'and relationships, i His miracles are reserved for those who are disposed to ~effr his Word'and'humbly ask his h'ealing. Third. Jesus is te.mpted to bow down before Satan~to lift up idols in place"of~'the true GOd. He ,is told that worldl~ kingdoms will be thus at ,his disigosal ~'He reslb6n~s, "You must worship the Lord your God and serve him alone." chfisti~anm :i"s s"i"on can never set up alliances with earthly po~vers or make arrangements for sycurity'at the cost of serving false g6ds. To accept the~ statu~ quo and not to struggle for th~ realization of the Kingdom of justice and holiness is to bow down before false gods. These are. the three temptations which persons, communities and the Church itself must confront and overcome both. internally and in the world: --seeking material well-being to the~detriment of the spiritual di-mension of life; using p6wer by secret, allianizes, manipulation and oppression; --setting up idols before the true God. ~ The disciple of Jesus consecrated for his mission fis continually involved in an interior struggle ,against private demons while at the same time con-testing the very same manifestations of evil in the 'institutional structures. .Jesus comes out of the wilderness and begins his mission with these words: '~Rep~nt, the kingdom of heaven is close at hand." His message is a two-edged sword; it names the evi!, inviting'closed hearts to open to love 324 / Review tor Religious, Volume 35, 1976/3 :and it points~to the signs of hope that salvation has penetrated the human reality: He went aroundthe ~vhole ~f Galilee teachinff in their Synagogues proclaim-ing the Good' News of the Kingdom and curing all kinds of diseases and sickness °among the people. His fam~ spread, throughout Syria;~, an.d those who were suffering from. dise~ises and painful complaint.s of on6 kind or another, the possessed, epilept.ics, the pa~ralyzed~. ,-were~all broughLto~h, im and he cured thi~m. Large crowds followed him . . IMt 4:23-25). Jesus Sends Hi~ Disciples ~ ¯ Jesus immediately calls ~and gathers disciples into t~h~.fi.r~t~c°m~aunity¯ ¯ of apostolic followers. Hi~ re~orded words are, brief but they cohtain the essenaal relationship of "call" to "mi,ssion~'~:,"Follow me and I wdl make you fishers.6f m~en." They are called to be sent. He gathers them in his com-pany so that they in turn will gather others~ i'n tl~e comp~ny of mission. As he has been ~erlt by the Father, Jesus w'ill send ~hem. His mission is to ,;all human hearis and huma~ communiti,es_to, .repentance of sin and to give them an experi_ence of~the nearness of the Kingdom ~f.God. Th'~y leav~ their concerns their .nets and follow him. This is. the first-recorded re-spoose of disciples in obedience to ~,the ~,ord JesuS' call~ to mission ,(Mt 4:12-17). _ Having~gather~d his t ~welve disciples, he sends them:in his name to,the House of Israel: "And as you go, proclaim that ih~ ~ngdo~i of l~eaven is close at hand, cure the sick, raise th~ de.a.~l, clean.s~e the lepers, .ca~st°~out devils." (Mt 10:7-8). And after his de~ath and resurrec~tion, his la'stwords to'his disciples are ~iearly the Universal-mandate to mission: "Go, Ihe, refore, :,mal~ disciples 6f all ~.natibns; baptize them in the name~of the, Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teach them to, observe all?ibe comm~.nds' I ~gave you. And know that l-am with you al~vays, yes, toi.[.h.e~ .end of t'ime (Mt ~28i 19- 20) . Repentance for the forgiveness of sins should be preached to all nations (Lk 24.:47). Go out to the whole world: proclaim the Good News to all creation (Mk 16:16). As the 15~ther sent me, so am I s~r~ding you (Jn 20:3). What, then, do we perceive t~ be Jesus" obedience to mission?, ". ~He-is sent by the Father and he is obedient t6.the mission given . him, even unto death. --~As he begins his public ministry, he confronts the demonic power of evil . - 7--He calls people to repentance,~-and announces~ the nearness of the.,,Kingd0m of God. He explains God's plan for~,.creation; the',, central figure Of his concern is the human person for~whom God Obedience to Mission / 325 Wills. the,perfection of love. With his teachin~g, he completes the sacred history of the.people. --He gathers those:.who_ believe in him, calling each by name, and -~ sends them as he, himself, has been sent by the Father: He travels thrbugh the" land, proclaiming the Good News of Salvation for all. His powerful word is heard and seen and felt because it is enfleshed in deeds of love and healing. --He forms a community of faith, of service and of love in .which he will continue his presence and prolong his mission ~until the time when he will return. The mission of Jesus is both physical healing and spiritual reconcilia-tion, liberation and fulfillment; the Lord's favor rests on the poor, the oppressed, and the alienated. We have an image set before us.of Jesus whose mission i~ lived out in absolute fidelity, to his Father and in faithfulness to human persons and ~their critical needs. There seems to be no conflict-of interest between building the earthly city and praising and glorifying God~ This 6oncern for 'the whole person--physical, and spiritual dimensions-- is the ~ mission . mandate, and it is also the criteria on which we will be judged at the end:."I was hungry and you gave ~me,to eat, thirsty and you gave me to drink . " The Evangelizing Mission in the Acts o[ the Apostles In the book of Acts there is a 'recurrent sequence of events which illustrate the ~continuous movement of Christian mission in the,~ early Chu'i'ch: We~ recognize there, the essential elements of apostolic life. There is a constant ~flow of gathering and sending, healing and proclaiming, con-fronting and suffering, .reflecting and celebrating. The first few chapters concerned with the primitive Christian com-munity in Jerusalem provide us with an outline of integral-evangelization: 'Gathering and,sending." the disciples of Jesus having encountered~the risen Lord° and experienced his healing and saving love, come together to build a faith cbmmunion of love and sharing nourished by the Spirit. The community is bound ~tbgether by prayer, by mutual service, by ,shared possessions, by the instructions of the apostles, and'by the celebration of the eucharistic meal. The Spirit urges them to go outside the faith com-munity and boldly preach the Good News of Salvation, challenging-men and women to repent and to be~converted. Healing and proclaiming: the evangelizing mission thrusts outward be-yond the community'with a deed of mercy. "When Peter and John were going up to the.temple for the prayers at the ninth hour, it~happen~d that there was a man being carrie.d past. He was a cripple from birth and they used ,,to put .him.down every day near the temple entrance called the Beautiful Gate so, he could beg from the people going in" (Acts 3:1-3). The evangelizers are led by the Spirit into the market place, outside the 326 / Review for Religious,. Volume 35, 1976/3 temple gate, and the Word, not yet~slSoken, is revealed by an act of mercy which responds to wor!dly agony and bodily need. In the name of Jesus, the man walks. In the midst of the deed, Peter"speaks the~ Word: ."Why are you so surprised at ~'th~is? . . . it is the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, the God of our ancestors, who has glorified' his servant, Jesus . " He pre~iches the .salvation of Jesus, incarnated, despised, suffering, re-jected, yet resurrected and triumphant, active in the midst of the world. Humans need to hear the Word of God spoken in faith and hope and addressed to their personal center, as well'as see and feel the impact of the healing act of love. Christian mission never isolates'the ministry of service from the ~ministry of the spoken Word. The evangelizing act is seen, felt and h~ard. , " Con]ronting and suffering: there is the inevitable confrontation with the principalities and powers (Acts 4:3). The priests and the officers of the ,.temple apprehend Peter and John. They are interrogated and harassed, told to ,be quiet, not to speak of Jesus and his message. The moment of :confrontation with all the suffe.ring it involves, provides the occasion for kerygma. Peter again proclaims the Ggod News even when it means resisting oppression.~_."You, yourselves, judge what is right in God's sight, to obey you or to obey God" (Acts 4: 19). Reflecting and celebrating: the d, isciples return to the community recounting their ex'~eriences, the healing act, the su~ering°-'they endured and ~there is rejoicing of all the members. They praise God, reflect together on Scripture; trying, to interpret the events in order to discover God's plan and purpose in them. "As they prayed . . . they,were filled With the Holy Spirit and began to pro.claim the Word of God boldly" (Acts,.4:3~L). The community of faith sharing and discerning together grows in creativity and valor. ~ A reflective reading of Acts steers us out of ourselves away from a one,dimensional acting out of Christian lif~ and mission. The continuous movement of evangelization in the Book of Acts links diakonia, kerygma and koihomla-~deed, word and community are not three distinct ways of carrying on the mission of Jesus; they are three dimensions of one Christie process in which we are all called to participate. Cohsecration tor Mission in Religious Community The invitation to follow the Lord Jesus is addressed" to the personal center of the one who, in some mysterious way, has been chosen to announce the Good News of Salvation. The person thus "called" perceives th6 Wbrd of God as an 'internal light or truth or warmth which presents an i~perative to stop what one is presently concerned~ about, to .turn to something new, to attend to a persistent urging and pursue a new direction. The person who listens and responds to the invitation to follow this new inner direction finds herself (himself) caught up in a new relation- Obedience to Mission / 327 ship ~with God--a relationship which requires a commitment to his plan for the transformation of human hearts and human relationships. It is 'ba, sically.the 'sanie .invitation addressed to the first disciples and many others in the history, of the Christian Church: "Follow me' and I will make you fishers of men.".The call is for mission. In the instance of a person called to apostolic religious life, there is an experience of deep significance, of the total engagement of one's being. It involves both a feeling of truth about oneself in relation to~ other~human persons and a sense of well-being even when the, commitment will require a difficult decision. A deep conviction arises'from within the person that -God is t:alling her (.him) to a celibate life in community. What is impor, tant to note here is that th~ person called has indeed~been "touched'? .by the Gospel and is motivated by that ,power from within. It .should not b~ simply a matter of having hem;d about the power of the Gospel and ~being deeply impressed by what it has done for~others. It has to be one's own experience of God beckoning. ~' Each of us at one point in our lives, be.fore we entered our particular community, had a dream or a vision. This dream was the way in which we were able to express to ourselves the significance of our inner experi. ence ~oL call. It was about what we wanted to be and what we wanted to do with our lives. ~I believe that "call" and ,mission" (the being and doing) are not two separate realities, but different aspects of the divine.~outward thrust .of love; God breaking through to us and inviting us to participate in his mission, the mission of~his Son, Jesus. God's desire to lib'erate and reconcile ,and, ultimately,, transform all that he. has;created manifests itself in a .special form of outreach to some chosen persons. He gathers these persons into commtiniiies '.for his' special pUrposes :in the historic process with its dire needs. None of us knows why his choice falls where it does, but we expe.rience it and therefore, we believe it. No_one is "called''~ to be simply for herself (or himself) alone. We are invited by God to take part in a transfoi'ming-mission which is the~:sharing of the Good News of Salvation in'4esus. We. are called to proclaim the Word to our brothers and sisters who have not heard nor experienced God's powerful healing and reconciling Word'. ' Obedience: Listening to (~od's Word and ReSponding with "Yes" Obedience is openness t~ God's deSigns and plans for the world. We do not have a blue print of his will and, therefore, obedience canhot ~imply be freedom to conform to what is already decided. It is not'a passive ac-ceptance of the way things are, but an enthusiastic search to discover the direction of the Spirit at .work in hearts, in relatiOnships and 'in institu-tional structures. Obedience, then, means openness and attentiveness to the Word of God spoken and speaking in our midst. It means listening, consultation, 328~/ Review ]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/3 study, . dialogue and reflective prayer. Above all.it, means listening to one another in the local community, in our larger congregation, and to the different levels of Church in which we participate,° especially our local Church, but also our universal Church, as-~t struggles to articulate its experience, its insights and its consensus. It means trying to ,read the signs of our times; listening and discerning° the needs and aspirations of the society in which we are inserted, our neighborhood, our city, our nation and the .new global world in which we live today. As we listen, we need to analyze, consult and experience, the pain and violence of our times, as well as its joys and ~aspirations. We need to~name evil without despair and to point to the signs of hope with realism and ho.nesty but with Christian faith in the resurrection and promiseoof the Lord. The Spirit is working in the events of history both within the hearts of all of us, within our communities and in the world itself. In the light of the Gospel message our task is to discover the purpose and plan of God taking place in our times and to discern Our particular way of par-ticipating in the mission of Jesus. We have to listen to the Word of God in Scripture and in our own hearts in prayer and reflection. We have to listen to his Word in our own local,:communities and articulate to each other .the fruit of our reflection and prayer, so: that spontaneously together we can share :his Word and grow as a community of faith. The main problem seems to be that we lack very often, the right struc-tures and processes within our local communities and broade~ congrega-tions .which would enable a rhore enlightened obedience, to mission today. Both personally and as communities we need an asceticism of consistent, well organized"and faith-oriented "~omingtogether" for dialogue, discern-ment and. decision-making regarding our apostolic activities as well as for evaluation and growth in being communities of reflective faith-sharing. Our coming together should be characterized by, th~ same belongingness which was typical of the early Church communities. They came,,back to-gether. ,after healing and preaching, confronting.and suffering, and they shared their sufferings and joys, they reflected together to understand better God's plan for them, they offered common prayer-, and Eucharist. And, thus, they went out again with an even bolder enthusiasm to preach God's Word. Obedience, then, consists in listening to God's Woi-d, and growing in our abili.ty to understand its deepest meaning for our life and our mission: 1, Growth in taking respons.ibility for community'.s life and direc-tion, ~ 2. Growth in d~veloping meaningful ministries which tr,y ~to meet the critical needs of today's world. 3. Growth in .sharing the Word among ourselves and in the market-pla~ e. Obedience to Mission / 329 It seems to me that what we have tradition.ally called the "Vow of Obedience" is precisely the way in which each community agrees to li~,e and work and share its faith together. It is the covenant we make with God and with each other in order to grow and deepen our consecration to the mission of Jesus. Conclusion It is imperative for our apostolic religious communities to intensify and deepen our humanization commitments of the 1960's and at the same time, to pursue our hungering spiritual quests of the 1-970's. The Christian in mission to the contemporary, world is called to struggle for both personal and social transformation in Jesus Christ. The realization of the kingdom which Jesus proclaimed is, in fact, the building of an ever widening net-work of relationships of justice, peace and friendship. The personal trans-formation each of us longs for is the holiness of the Gospel, and the social transformation which our world cries out for is our challenge'to partici-pate in the mission of~the Gospel. The cries of our contemporary global society are many-~--for bread, for freedom and jusffce, ~or truth and understanding, for peace and reconcilia-tion, for independence and inter-dependence, for acceptance and friendship and for ultimate transcendent meaning. Somehow, some way, the apostolic relig~ious community must lift. up a ~lear sign for all 1o see that the kingdom of h~)liness and justic~e which Jesus preached is pos's~ible in our world today and at the very same time we must effectively minister, to the most (ritical social wounds in our milieu. ' Our problem today iia the Church and in our communities is not so much one of how to communicate the Good News of Salvation" in Jesu~s bu,,t ,prima~i'ily how to live it. Penance and Brotherly Love Michel Rondet, S.J. Readers of our pages will be familiar with Father Rondet~from his article publisrhed last July: '~Choices of Religious.Life in a SeCularized World." The present article was translated by Sister Mary Dempsey,CDP, an AmeriCan sister presently stationed in France. ~ . The"., sacrament of penance is certainly one of the Christian gestures least appreciated'in our time2 Father Maranache says that we have made of it "~the~ d~poshory .for our obsession~s or the sim~ple door-mat for the ~Eucharist . "~ It is a' gesture ihat is less and less understood today. That is something that should wo0y us, for it could be telling us that we are no longer a sin[id people.or that we no longer think: of ourselves as a sinful people. But. in that case we are necessarily going to be either a guilty peo~ ple or a pharisaical people. Guilty, that is, shut up in our guilt, in a .sense of failure, and therefore living in resentment, isolation hopelessfiess, with our fault; or else we are pharisees closed in on a feeling of our own righteousness. There are many ways of being pharisaical; it can be in the style of the pharisee in the gospel, but it can also be in more modern styles; for example, when a person thinks he is thee .only Christian, or the only type of Christian, who is committed, conscientiou.s;-adult, responsible, as opposed to the others who are only sociological Christians, vestiges the past. In both cases we are'up against a people without hope, who will not bring hope to mankind, for we are concerned with people who are travel-ing a different road friam the God who came for the sake of sinners and to 1A. Manaranche: Un chemin de liberti (Ed. du Scull), p. 91. 330 Penance and~'Brotherly Love / 331 save sinners. Historians of religions have bi~en able to show thht, in most non-Christian religions, it is the,'sinners who go to God to be pardoned. But~ in the Gospel it is always Christ who goes toward the sinners, it is God who goes to them. If we wish to be a holy pe'ople ~we must become again a sinful people, for the holiness to which we are called is not a holiness of perfection; it is a holiness of conversion. The holy people of God'are not a people of perfect beings; they are a race ,of sinners who'have been converted. ~, ~. But let us be careful! Sin is ~ religious reality. It is an attitude that has no meaning except in the context of the Covenant and in face of the love of God. Outside the Covenant there is no Sin, there are faults; there are no sinners, there are the guilty. Sin is a discovery that is made'in the context of the love of God and face" to face with that love. It is the faithful love of-. God that reveals to Israel its infidelity (cL, Ho'll). It is through the love of God that Israel is made aware'that.it is a spouse; unfaithful and at the same time loved over and above all infidelity. There isin th~ Gospel of Saint Luke a.passage that is very significant from this point of view. At the time of: the first miraculous draught of fishes and the call of the first disciples, Simon Peter says: "Leave me, Lord. 1 am a sinful man." At first sight ,this attitude is surprising: Peter did nothing reprehensible that day; on the contrary. It is not, then, the awareness of a fault that lets him~ know he, is a sinner, but the revelation of the fullness of the gift of God through what has just been accomplished before his eyes. Only in the light of the love of God is sin discovered as a religious reality. ~ If, instead of. oscillating between guilt~ and pharisaism, we would be a people made up .of sinners, we would accept-ourselves as such, we could be a hope for the world, because we would be sinners*saved and pardoned in Jesu~ Christ. And so we could make this sign of ,reconciliation which is the sacrament of penance come alive in the world. "-Guilt attd sin: The experiencing of our limitations, of our misery,of our defeat, of our infidelity, can develop in us a feeling of kuilt (~whi~h is found at that time in the°consciousness of the sinner), but there is a great difference between: -:-feeling guilty before a law, an ideal fabricated by others or that we ourselves conjure, up . The only thing to do then is to reproach ourselves or be discour-aged by our mediocrity, and the higher the ideal the more the .guilt-feeling risks being stronger and paralyzin~g., --and feeling unfaithful, guilty in the face of a person by whom we know we are loved and pardoned, abok, e all if that pardon has the absolute quality of divine love. The repentance that can then rise up in us is a strong and vigorous sentiment of gratitude, thanksgiving, hope. He who knows that much has been forgiven him becomes capable of loving much (Lk 10, 47, and 15~ 32). ~ The sense of sin in Scripture is this second attitude, and it is in this interpretation that we make the distinction here, pointing out the opposition between these often-confused ideas, a guilt,feeling and a sense of sin. 332 / Review [or Religious, Volume'35, 1976/3 The Sacrament of Reconciliation What is this sign that we are called :to live out in the Church? 1 ) It is a Memorial of the. Paschal Mystery. The sacrament.of penance is the memorial of Jesus inhis Passion forgiving his executioners and those who are responsible for his death: the leaders of his people, Pilate, the silent majority who have said nothing during the, trial of Jesus and who let himbe condemned. It is to .all those that the pardon of God is addressed in Jesus. The sacrament of penance is above all the memorial of this aspect of the Paschall Mystery, "Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing." ~, It is a memorial of the revelation of' God as the one who forgiv(s; that is, he whose love welcomes us and creates us anew. To forgive is not tO forget,, but ~o refuse to identify the person with his fault, to shut him: up in his, past or his guilty present. Pardon' iS the attitude of hope that we continue to have toward a person, beyond what he has. been or wha't he is. To forgive is to say to someone: "To me you are not eternally, definitively, wholly, the one who has done .this or .that. I expect something else.of you." That is what Jesus did with Peter. It is in this sense that pardon is creative, re-creating hope. In the attitude of someone I can discover that I am other than what I am in this fault and in this sin. We are all sinners, but we are also hll saints in the eyes of God. .2) The'sacrament of penance, is ~the transfiguration of our sinful being into a being saved by Christ. It is the .passover from the table of sinn6rs to the table of sons through the forgiveness of God. We find a very beau-tiful representation of this in the window of the Prodigal Son in the Cathedral of Bourges. The prodigal in exile wears the short tunic'of slaves; welcomed by his father, he wears the long robe of the sons. The eider son, who had ,the long robe in the beginning, is wearing the short tuni+ in the last scene. He has the mentality of a slave. 3) The sacrament of penance is also the germ o[ a definitive and uni-versal reconciliation. Created anew through the pardon .of Christ, we be-come capable of pardoning, of looking upon one another with hope. Henceforth a new world is possible, for only love ge~erates"love. To ac-cept others, to forgive then~, the.person himself must be able to depend on the love and the forgiveness of him who is greater than our heart. And so the sacrament of penance is the gesture that creates the Church as a people of reconciliation; the Christian gesture that '-makes us "peace-makers," men who are capable of being in the world a~rtisans of peace and of reconciliation because we ourselves are reconciled through the for-giveness of God. , How Celebrate This Reconciliation? ' For the Church, the sacrhment of penance is the gesture of Christ that re-creates us. it is also the gesture by which we accept and celebrate this Penance and,Brotherly Love / 333 reconciliation. This is another way¯ of saying ,tha!, qike all the sacraments, Penance~is a Paschal celebration, penitential but joyous. In an old Bene-dictine text of the Middle Ages, this is what,is said about Ash Wednesday: "The monks Cntered with joyful hope into the sacred penance of Lent." The"stages of this celebration: ',, 1) Let the Word of God lead us to the table of.sinners, for. it is only there that we will meet Christ. The saints had a ~reat and profound insight into this truth. We must let the Word of God denounce our false righteousz ness. The table,0f sinners is not a sad table, because it is the table of en-counters. with God. What is sad is the table of the pharisees who trust in their own righteousness. Christ~will never come and sit down-at-that table. I have not said thht the first step is to examine our conscience because it ,is~ not for ,us to discdver our false justice.and injustice. This would be an illusion; it would turn us back on ourselves to excuse or justify ourselves or to be discouraged. It is necessary to let the Word of God denounce our sin ~ind bring it to light. ' ¯ There should be a celebration of the Word. You could prepare for your~ confessions by opening the gospel. ~That would be perhaps the best way to enter into the sacrament: .~ ' '2) Publicly to "confess° our s'infulness and salvation throug.h Jesus Christ, to confess through"a gesture that Christ 'alone is the Savior. It is true that contrition is a requirement for salvation in Jesus Christ. But that is '.not because contrition° saves- us," but because for us that ~contrition is a way'of uniting us to Christ the Savior. Confession is the gesture by which. we publicly repudiate,~the illusion that persists in ms, that it is our re- ,pentance, our good will,othat saves us. No, it is Christ and he alone that saves us. It is'in this sense, to, signify this, that the sacramental action is necessary. In any other perspective it is not justified~ or ii is only. the exterior sign of what our repentance :brings about. Alas, there are a'. certain number of Christians who still have this idea. They, therefore see very little impor-tance in the~sacramei~t, since all the weight of the gesture is centered on their repentance instead of being centered on the Christ who saves: .From this point of view, the monotony bf our ~accusations can be very good., I am. always~th~e same sinner, I.have not changed fundamentally,¯ but JeSus Christ saves me. The accusation is a oprofession of faith before it is an accusation. I proclaim that,Jesus Christ is Savior by confessing my sins. That is the sense that St. Augustine gives to his work Con[essions." the confession that he is~ weak and a.sinner and the profession of faith in God the Savior. 3) With .the Christ of the Passion, we must live our Christian priest-hood. This is perhaps one 6f the most profound opportunities we have to live it. Today, when we honor the priesthood of all the baptized, le't us not at the same time relegate to the shade one of the gestures by which this ,priesthood is. expressed ,with. perhaps the greatest intensity. In the 334 / Review forReli~ious~ Volume 35, 1976/3 sacrament of penance, with the Christ of the Passion, we are the Church which offers to;the Father the sinful world of which we are acknowledged . members. We present ourselves before theFather, selfish, proud, harsh, with the same selfishness, the same harshness, the same self-sufficiency as those who appear everywhere in the world and who sometimes produce bitter fruits of death and of suffering. If selfishness and pride have not pro-duced the same fruits in tis, it is because the circumstances have not been favorable. We are also the Church which accepts the pardon of the Father in the nameoof all and for,~all. It is not our own little pardon that we come to receive as a privilege that is going to set us apart fro~ others-apd justify us in our own eyes; it is the pardon of the Fathei" who welcomes .us in the name of the,sinful world of which, by the grace of God, we are conscious representatives. This is a priestly attitude." Since we are united through baptism to the pries(hood of Christ, we can, in this penitential gesture, live this priest-hood inooffering the sinful world and accepting in its name the forgiveness in 'the Father. 4) To witness through pardon "to our reconciliation in. Jesus Christ." Having tasted the love of God, proved his ur~failing°fidelity, we become capable, in our turn, of forgiveness. There is the true contrition, the true firm purpose: to enter into .,pardon, to enter into the Passover of Christ so as to become in him the people of reconciliation, example and witness of reconciliation in the world. The sacrament, then, opens us out to a -creative attitude that is very important in our time. In the world of conflict in which we.live~ where every society tends to become a closed society, pardon is a creative attitude. It cuts off the inexorable unfolding of our sin-ful history, it introduces an element of radical novelty, introduces an un-looked- for idea that causes hope to flower where it seemed impossible. That is the happy ending to which the sacrament leads us: to be, in the midst of the conflicts of this world, the artisans and the witnesses of a possible recon-ciliation. To let Christ lead us to the table of sinners, t6,profess our faith in Jesus Christ the Savior by the confession of our sins, to'live our baptis~mal~ priesthood by offering the sinful world and accepting the forgiveness of the Father, to enter in our turn into the love which,, forgives because it has been created anew'by the Father this is what it means to live and cele-brate the sacrament of penance. It is quite a different thing from ihat gloomy examination of conscience in which we look at ourselves and our failures, developing vexation and discouragement in ourselves before we pass to a nondescript legalistic action by which we make things right with~ God: To live the sacrament of penance is to celebrate an egsential and hope-filled dimension of' the Christian life. See Luke, regarding the pardoned Penance and Brotherly Love / 335 sinker: he who thinks he has been forgiven little or thinks he does not need forgiveness loves little ~gnd displays little love; but the one who has been forgiven much and' who knows he needs forgiveness can show much love; It is an essential dimension of every Christian lile. We must go beyond a calculated~_concept of the sacrament. It is expressed in 'a gesture and in a sign, but it ought not to be an isolated moment, cut off from life; if it were it would become a gesture of magic purification. Penance can be a_Sacra-ment, a sign which expresses our self and transforms us, only if faith causes us to live continually as, pardoned sinners. The sacramental gesture makes sense only if it permeates.a whole existence and a total attitude which shines forth in our prayer, our,~life, our relations with others. The sacramental gesture is the high point.of a whole life of a pardoned sinner, and that i's what gives its meaning, tO this penitential dimension of the Christian life. This summit cannot be separated from the rest without losing its signifi-cance. The sacrament of penance is, then, a gesture which sums up our whole life, from the acts of contrition that we make, the penitential rite of the Eucharist, rites of. reconciliation, the recitation of the Our Father, times of penan.ce (-Lent, Advent . ), the revisions of life that we make to-ge. ther. It is,all these_ moments that we live the sacrament of penance. All this is part of the sign and~ all ihis finds its true, fully-lived meaning at the time of the reception of ~the sacrament. Also, far from making the sacra-ment useless, all that we have just mentioned calls for it and gives it mean-ing. It is certainly necessary for tile Church of our time to rediscover-forms of celebration of the sacrament of penance which best express the signifi-cance of. this gesture. The Church has known ~any forms in the course of history (public penance in the 0rst centuries, individual confession since the end of the Middle Ages). It is precisely for this reason that the new rite of the sacrament is so important for us today. Penance and Brotherly Love 1 ) In its beginnings; religious life in the Church did not appear as an association of perfect Christians, better than others, like a little "Church of, the Just" in the midst of the larger, heterogeneous Church; but the first communities presented themselves as communities ojf repentant sinners, Christians who proclaimed their need of conversion. We are assembled ,sinners,. communities of sinners who try to love much because much has been forgiven us. This is a constant "of the spiritual tradition of the rel.igious life: a state of conversion, of penzance. 2) A religious community is not a group without tensions and prob-lems, but it is a community that endeavors to make,pardon ever possible, where this pardon can always be asked because each one knows that it will always be given. It is a community where-each one lives amid proffered 336 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/3 forgiveness, where each can be himself without grudgessor complexe~,,~a ,dommunity where hope is possible because the others look upon,you with hope and forg(veness. A person can become a new,creature in the forgive-ness of others. Par~on always possible makes .hope al~,ays present. 3) "In this sense a religious community can ,be a "vision of. peace,~' as the Church ought tO be and tries to be, not because it is an .idyllic,witness to 'understanding and friendship, but because it is a place of~ pardon ,and of reconciliation. ~ '~ . ~ , Reconciled with my fellowmen, living in theoview, of my brothers and sisters who pardon me in the strength of thd.,pardgn o1' Christ, I can, in my turn he,in the world an artisan of peace, a witness to'reyonciliation. This is .an essential dimension of our life of profound charity, ,not easy to live day by day. Let us'try to live it, and many difficulties will .recede to the background and it will be possible to shoulder them in' hope: Celebrating Reconciliation in. Brotherly Love o ~ I ) We mugt r'ediscover in our lives gestures that celebrate hnd express the penitential dimensioh of our lives. Formerly thei'e~were in the congre-gations traditions of penance on certain days and for certain feasts. They had become formalistic and have'~been suppressed. P¢0bably°it was neces-sary to do this and t6 pas~ .throuffh thig healing step~of purification. But now we must rediscover and re-create something else; otherwise, it~i~; a dimension of life that will not be celebrated. 2) We must rediscover times and intervals of mutual forgiveness. We mu~t find thefia again at the heart of a liturgical act. You have certainly had the experience already: there is sharing that c'an take place only in a liturgical set~ing~ for at that moment we are entirely centered on the Lord. There are things that can be said then arid will be accepted as they would not be in another context, because there wo'uld'not be the 'same climate, the same charity, the same grace, the same presence of Christ; There are times and places of pardon to be rediscovered, during the eucharistic cele-bration, liturgies of the Word, Compline . 3) We must also integrate into the sacrament more'consciously atti-tudes which in. fact already form a part of. it. For example,, certain revi-sions of life,./~ certain search ['or spiritual discernment'made in community in which we are helped t~ become aware of'our deficiencies, our infidelities. . . . We.could make the connection and end a revision of.life, ['or instance, by an aci.of contrition, an imploring of God's' pardon that would 'recall the sacrament bf penance and woiald be ['or each one a preparation for it. In this presentation, 1 have not stressed much the role of the priestly minister in the Celebration of penance. This role is precisely to signify, the 'necessary bond with Christ and this. necessary presence of Christ without which no Passover is realized and actualized. In the sacrament of penance Penance and Brother~ly Love'/,. ,337 the priest; who acts in the name of the Church, is the necessary witness of what reconciliation, forgiveness, salvation, are given to us.in ]esus Christ and through him. We cannot attain to it of ourselves. On the other hand, a celebration always presupposes a people. It is important that the community, whether small or' large, recognize itself always, when celebrating the sacrament of penance, as the Church of Christ. Faith and Justice Francisco Ivern, S.J. Father Ivern, until the Jesuits' recent congregation, had been Father Arrupe's special advisor on the social apostolate and the chairman of his special commission for the same: Since the congregation, he has been named General Counselor as well. A Spaniard by birth, he studied in the United States and worked for some years in Bombay. His present addi'ess: Borgo S. Spirito, 5; C.P. 9048; 00100 Roma, Italy. Introduction In one of its decrees, the 32nd General Congregation of the Society of Jesus (Dec. 2, 1974--March 7, 1975) has defined the,mission of Jesuits in the world of today as the service of faith and the promotion of justice. It was the most import,ant and specific contribution of that congregation for the future of the Society of Jesus as an apostolic order at the service of the universal Church. Some might argue that, as far as priorities are con~cerned, the decree on "The Union of Minds and Hearts" issued by that same congregation,1 deals with an aspect even more basic for the survival and maintenance of the Society of Jesus: i.e. the spiritual and commianity life of its members. Others might stress the importance of the decree on poverty and the radical changes it introduces into the practice of that vow by communities and apostolic works.~ Finall3}, others might rightly emphasize that the future of the Society will depend on the religious and apostolic formation of its members, and hence the decree treating that topic deserves top priority) All this is in a way true. But the decrees on spiritual and community life, 1This decree will be the subject of a future article in this series. -~See REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, March, 1976, pp. 191, ft. :*This decree will not be treated in this series as being of too narrowly Jesuit interest. 338 Faith and ,Justice / .339 on formation and even_on pov.erty represent the natural and expected evo-lution of a process already on the way since the 31st General Congrega-tion ~(1965). To a great extent; they simply develop and complement what was already expressed in that congregation. On the. other har~d, the decree on "Our Mission Today: the Service of Faith and ~he Promotion of Justice" marks a relatively new development and poses~.a new.challenge. Its influence is felt in all the,bther major documents of the~32nd~General Congregation; it gives them their apostolic motivation and orientation and thus conditions their fruitful interiorization and effective implementation. ~The decree on faith and justice, how6ver, has also becon]e-6ne of~ the most controversial pronouncements Of the last Jesuit congregation find it will ~,probably be one of the most difficult to implement. On the,one side, it is true that, in spite of its long ,and laborious genesis and° its obvious defects of form, the~decree was finally approved by an overwhelming majority. It can also be said, one year after its promulgation; that the decree has been gen.erally well accepted by most Jesuits. On the other side, how.ever, it~:is also true that not a few have received it with mixed fe~lings and reservations. Some ffonder about the scope and universal applicability of" the.decree for the ,Jesuit apostolate. Doubts have.also arisen about the precise meaning of justice ,an~l of the inter-relationship b~tween faith and justice in the ,context of the decree: Others feel that, the "specific contribu-tion of priests and religious to the promotion of justice should be further clarified. _ It is also a ~fact that the longest and most "substantial" remarks of the Holy, See concerning the congregation's documents, were aimed at this decree in particular.-A few have'even said that the Holy See's observa-tions have greatly.~ weakened the decree's thrust, if not crippled it al-together. . . It is myoview that, in spit6 of all these difficulties, the d6cree keeps all its basic strength and importance. It presents today for the Society of Jesus a big challenge and a unique apostolic opportunity. Perhaps like none Other, the decree on "Our Missiofi Today" can help Jesuits td'rediscover again, in:a new light,,what it means to be an apostle, a religious and a priest ifi the, modern world: It can help infuse~ new" vitality and dynamism into an aging and shrinking international organism. It can strengthen the union of all-Jesuits around a common apostolic ideal whbse"relevance and actuality appe.ar today with renewed clarity~ ° The criticism, reservations 'and evefi fears that the decree has aroused can be explained partly becau~se of its all embracing nature, partly because of some obscurities and difficulties of interpretation to which the text some-times lends itself. In this context, the remarks'made by the Holy See, though perhaps not absolutely ~necessary, can ~ greatly h61p to dispel some of~these fea'rs, and reservations. They can help i-eveal better ttie basis on which the potential of the decree for a profound religious and apostolic re-newal~ ultimately rests. However, we have also to admit that a decree that 340 / Review .]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/3 demands from every individual Jesuit and from every Jesuit community and apos.tolic work .a reassessm(nt in depth of their own, basic orientation in the light of the service of faith .and the ,promo.tion of justice~ was bound,to cause some uneasiness, set in motion defense mechanisms and even pro-voke negative reactions. The earlier 31st General Congregation recognized that, in order totface ,new needs and-conditions, the entire,.Jesuit,~tpost01ate had to be thoroughly :rethought and r~vised:~But while some channels and structures were prd-posed for. that revision, there was no clear ~ttempt at providing the overall criteria ands.objectives that should inspireoand guide it. ,A general sociological survey of the Society of Jesus that was launched by Fr. Arrupe towards the end of.1965, shortly after the 31st General°Con-gregation, provided.some apostolic guidelines and objectives and also con-tributed to develop some mechanisms of response to new needs. But itS; out-come was very, uneven and its best achievements-remained at the level of some provinces or regtons. There was no serious attempt, therefore, to ap-ply its conclusions, in terms.of some general policy guidelines¢.to the whole Society. This explains why, except for those .provinces or regions in which a considerable effort owas made to" determine general ~ind corporate apos-tolic objectives in the light of the survey findings,'the ov~erall pattern~"of apostolic worl(s and ministries in the Society of Jesus underwent relatively few changes from 1965 to. 1975. - o During;the.se years, however, under the ,leadership of Fr. Arrupe, .a good deal was done to give some new direction and contents to,the J~suit apostolate and to,emphasize some of the dimensions that~ should distinguish it as a whole, independently from the particular works or meahs through which it was to be carried out. This was specially true of the comriiitment to bring about a more human and just society,,which'was more"and .more presented not so much as a separate sector of activity, but rather as a dir~eri~ sion that should mark all Jesuit life and apostolic work. This led to a more interdisciplinary, "intersectorial" and integrated apostolic approach. It also contributed to give to the Jesuit apostolate a new sensb,oof direction, an '~identity" that had been somewhat, obscured and weakened~'during a period of rapid change. It also prepared the ground for the decree of the 32nd General Congregation on."Our Mission Today." ~ Unlike previous congregations, the 32nd did not issue b~ief and separate decrees restating the importance of the major~apostolates;,old or new, in which Jesuit.s are or should be engaged: missionary activity,.education, ecu-menism, pastoral action, scientific apostolate, artistic endeavors, social in-volvement, mass. media, and so forth. The brief references in the decree on "'Our Mission Today" to theological reflection, "conscientization" according to the Gospel, education and modern media of social communication, were to emphasize the level at which Jesuits should work, their main role as "educators" and the instruments that they should use in their apostolate iri Faith and Justice / 341 order to have thewidest possible, influence, rather than to single out spe-cific works, institutions or sectors of activity in'which they should engage: The main apostolic concern of the last Jesuit congregation was to define what should be the.~corporate mission of Jesuits today, whether they work in Jesuit controlled institutions or not, alone or in collaboration with others. Not only should whatever Jesuits are already doing contribute, more~or less directly or explicitly, to reconcile men with God and with each other, to serve the faith and to promote justice; but today Jesuits should preferably do what is more conducive to th~ attainment of,,those objectives. The Service:' of' Faith" " The mission we are called to share is the mission of the Church herself: to make known.to men the love of God our Father, to bring to our fellow-~ men the omessage of-salvation, to work that they may have life, and have it to the full.~ The decree does not hesitate to reaffirm, with different words and. expressions, the basic religious and supernatural nature of the Society's mission: the service of faith, the task of evangelization.'~ It is because we are commit~ted to the service of faith, that we are also called, always, but par-ticularly today, to promote love and justice among men, as one of. faith's main and more basic requirements: "The mission 'of the Society of Jesus today is the service of, faith,, of which the promotion of iustice is an abso-lute requirement. This is so because the reconciliation of men among them-selves, which their reconciliation with God demands, must be based on ius-tice."~, For many,- however, the specific contributioh of the decree on "Our Mission Today" still remains in having officially proposed the promotion of justice as the main apostolic objective for the Society of Jesus today3 though, it is true, side by side with the service ~of. faith and inseparably connected with it. The service, of faith would be affirmed simply as a pre-condition for that promotion. The fact that the very text of the decreetalks more 6ften of justice than of faith and that,what is said of faith is rather incomplete and far from being an exhaustiv~ presentation of all the demands of faith for religious life and apostolate, would seem to confirm this view. This explains why .in some regions and for some Jesuits the decree has become known as "the decree on the promotion of justice" or simply "the justice document." Its title has gradually undergone small but important modifica-tions. The mission of the Society of Jesus today would be defined no longer as "the service of faith and the,' promotion of justice," but ~rather as "the service of faith in or through the promotion of justice," or "the service of faith ]or the promotion of justice." It should be recalled that the promotion of justice was not the top prior- 4"Our Mission Today," n. 13. ~lbid., nn. I1, 13, 14, 18, 24-26, 51, 52, 55. 61bid., n. 2. 342 / Review for Religious, Volume 35, 1976/3 ity chosen by the General Congregation for its work and that the document was ttie~outcome of the combined effort of three different commissions, only one of which dealt with the justice question. The others were con-cerned with the apostolic mission of the Society in general and with the criteria that should guide Jesuits in their apostolate: questions to which the congregation had assigned a higher priority than to that of the promotion of justice. The call of the 32nd General.Congregation to the serx~ice of faith is not Simply a reminder of the primary and fundamental Jesuit.apostolic mission, nor the mere statement of a premise from which to draw later the concl~u-sion that the promotion of justice is a necessary dimension of the Jesuit apostolate 'today. The congregation wants to emphasize that in the light of today's conditions, of the needs and aspirations of the men of our time, the service of faith not only keeps its primary importance~ but that its .absolute need is today even more strongly felt. The diagnosis that "the congregation makes of the apostolic needs of the contemporary world is not formulated only ,or primarily in terms of justice: The fact that today "more than two billion human beings have no knowledge of God the Father and JeSus Christ whom He has sent''T and that "many of our contemporaries, dazzled and even dominated .by the achieve-ments of the~human mind, have either forgotten or rejected the mystery of man's ultimate meaning, and thus have lost the sense of God''s constitute for the' congregation, new challenges to the Society's apostolic mission. These challenges not only condition our efforts for more human and just relations amo.ng men,~' but have for us a value of~their own, 'because "people today are, somehow aware ~that their problems are not just social and technological~ but personal and spiritual. They have a feeling that what is at stake here~is the very meaning of man,: his destiny and future. Men are hungry: but hungry not.just for bread, ~but'for the word of God~TM The fact that today the.~service of faith has to face new demands, new situations, new cultural contexts, which will put to the test not only our religious dedication, but all our resources and creativity11 does not diminish in any way the need for that service, but ,on the contrary emphasizes it: ". the goSpel,.should be preached with a fresh yigour, for it is in a posi-tion once again ,to make itself heard. At first sight, God seems to have no place,today ih public life, nor even in private awareness. Yet everywhere, if we only knew.how to look at it, we can see that menare searching for an experienCe of Christ and of his kingdom of justice, love and peace.''~-~ rlbid., n. 4. Slbid., n. 5. °lbid., n. 27. aOlbid., n. 21. lalbid., nn. 24-26. r'lbid., n. 21. Faith and Justice / 343 The realization that today there is a L"new need" for the service of faith, by itself and also because of the ethical and religious roots of many of today's problems, is expressed in the decree with,an insistence, which some might° find even. exaggerated, on the need to "evangelize," to lead.men gradually to the acceptance of God and:of his salvation in C.hrist, wherever° we may be and through whatever apostolates, or ministries we might-be, called to exercise_, including social ministries and the promotion of justice itself.13 ¯ It is evident that the conviction about the need for a renewed service of the faith in contemporary society; if it has to inspire and guide effectively all our apostolic efforts, cannot be the o.utcome of a mere sociological sur-vey or scientific analysis of today's needs and aspirations. It has to grow out of a personal and-lived experience of the enriching and liberating role that faith plays in our own lives, in the lives of the groups and communities in which we !iv.e. To think that we can commit~ourselves to the service-of faith, without first realizing that we ourselves stand in need of being evan-gelized and of knowing how to meet Christ as he works in the world through the power of His Spirit,'" is an illusion. The Promotion of Justice Those acquainted with the text of the Synod of Bishops of 1971, "Jus-tice in the World," w0u_ld ,recognize some of the arguments that led the Jesuit General Congregation to propose the promotion of justice as one of the primary apostolic objectives for the Society of Jesus today. In some re-spects, however, the treatment of, jus._tice in the decree is less qomplete than that found in4he synodal text. The decree attempted to bring together into one single document the two basic dimensions of the Society's.mission to-day, while trying at the same time .to draw some conclusions and provide some directives for. Jesuit religious life and apostolic activities. The far reaching implications and consequences, both for the service of faith and the promotion of justice, of integrating into a unified and coherent whole dimensions that often had developed too much along parallel lines, are evident. The synthesis, however, reflects the vicissitudes of its long elabora-tion and is still far from being perfect and complete. It is in the light of the gospel, of the Church's magisterium, and 6f the Ignatian charism and vocation, thatthe General Congregation, faced with a ' world marked by deep and widespyead inequalities and injustices, at the na-tional and international level, commits the Society of Jesus to the promotion of justice. . This commitment, as previously statdd, flows from the very nature of the Society's apostolic mission, of a service of a faith that works through lalbid., nn. 11, 27, 33, 50-55. 141bid., n. 23. 344,/ Review [or, Religious, Volume 35, 1976/3 love: a'love that cannot become reality without justice.,~ "The injustice that racks our World in so many forms is, in fact, a denial of God in practice, for it denies the ttignity of man" man, the image of God; man the brother of Christ.''''; The establishment of God's kingdom kingdom of love, justice and peace--begins already now, ~in this world. Christian hope and,salva-lion are a gratuitous gift from God, but also an invitation to work effec-tively for the transformation of the world, to make it more human and just.~r It is the wish to be faithful to the essential Jesuit mission, "as expressed in the Formula of the Institute, approved by.Paul Ili' and Julius II!, that prompted the congregation to propose the promotion of .justice as one of the prtmary a~ms of the Jesmt apostolate.'" For Ignatius~the service of faith had to be exercised both through the preaching of the Word and by works of charity andof reconcili~ition, by the assistance to those in greater need, like "those qvho are found in prisons and hospitals." Ignatius himself vited-Jesuits to interpret this in the. light of "what will seem expedient for the glory of God and the common good." This the decree has done and, following the lead of Paul VI in his inaugural address to the 32rid General Congregation, has seen in the sick and in the prisoners of Ignatius' time, tho. se living "on the margins of society" today: the poor and the de- ~ prtved, the victims of injustice and oppression. To the many encyclical letters and other documents of the magisterium Which support the congregation's stand on~ the question of justice anti with which the' readers of these pages are. undoubtedly Well acquainted--we should add the recent apostolic exhortation, Evangelii Nuntiandi, in which Paul VI repeatedly reasserts the intimate relationship between e'vangeliza-tion and the promotion of justice. In one passage of 'this most important document, the Holy Father gives us, in a remarkable synthesis, qhe main reasons which link together these two dimensions of our apostolic mission: Between evangelization and human advancem~nt--d~ve!opme~t .and libera-tion- there are in fact profound links. These include lihks of an finthro-po~ ogical order, because the man who is to be evangelize'd is ndt an abstract being but,is subject to social and economic questions. They also include links to the theological order, since one cannot dissociate the pla6 of creation from the plan of Redemption. The latter plan touches the very concrete situations of injustice to be combated and of justice to be restored. They.in-clude links of the eminently evangelical order, which is that of charity: how in fact can one proclaim the new commandment without promoting in justice and in peace the true~ authentic advancement of man? We our, selves have taken care to point this out, by recalling that it is impossible to accept "that in evangelization one could, or should ignore the importance of the problems ~r'lbid., nn. 2, 18, 2.7, 2,8. ~C'Ibid., n. 29. arlbid., nn. 30, 31, 40, 41. ~Slbid., n. 17. Faith and Justice ~/ 345 so much discussed today, concerning justice, liberation, development and peace in this world. This would be to forget the lesson which comes to us from the gospel concerning love of our neighbor who is suffering and in need."r~ Confronted with all these arguments of an evangelical, theological and doctrinal order, it is.hard to understand the difficulties some have expressed regarding the relationships between faith .and justice and the .very notion of justice as found in thedecree. There is need, as we shall see, for placing the promotion of justice in the proper theological and pastoral context and for defining clearly what is the specific contribution of priests and religious to that promotion. But that in the world of today the promotion of justice constitutes a primary apostolic c~bjective and conditions greatly the ~redibil-ity and apostolic effectiveness of the Church's mission, seems a fact beyond all question. Some have remarked that, justice, which is so often mentioned, is never clearly defined in the text. What does the decree mean by justice, they ask? This question sounds a bit like the "quid est veritas" of the gospel." Lik'd the Synod of 1971, the Jesuit General Congregation did not want to enter into a scholastic definition of justice, with all its divisions and subdivisions. But to concltide from ,~this that the General Congregation, or for that matter the Synod of Bishops. and so many other documents of .the magisterium, dd not know what they are talking about when they propose the promotion of justice as a necessary requirement of our apostolic mis-sion, would border on cynicism. ~ This being said, we have to admit that the document sometimes gives the,!mpression of talking mainly~ about inequalities and injustices of a socio, economic order, as though justice were merely a problem of a more equal distribution of the world's material., wealth and resources. On the other. hand, .it is hard to ignore the fact that the very unequal distribution not onlyof material goods, but als~ of~the power a.nd responsibility for ad-ministering them, constitutes today one of the major felt injustices of our s~ciety and deeply affects the lives the,freedom and dignity---of a large majority of mankind. But the congregation speaks also of other injustices: racial, social, political. Religious oppression, however, does not seem to-evoke any, clear echo in the document. The presence in the congregation of Jesuits working in regions where religious rights are openly violated and the fear of possible retaliatory measures, might explain this silence and reserve, which, 9therwise, would be difficult to understand. Rather than defining justice, the decree describes it. It also enumerates the gospel demands in the justice field: "The gospel demands a life free from egoism and self-Seeking and from all attempt to exploit one's fellow-men. It demands a life in which the justice of the gospel shines out in a willing-laEvangelii Nuntiandi, n. 31. 346 / Review [or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/3 hess not only to recognize and respect the rights of all, especially the poor and the powerless, but also to work aciively to secure those rights. It de-mands an openness and generosity to one's neighbor v~henever he is in need, even if he is alienated or hostile, in a spirit of forgiveness that over-comes all enmity.'''-'° Since th6 concept of-justice in the decree is more evangelical than legal or philosophical, one can understand why justice and poverty appear so closely inter-related in the text and why, also in the name Of justice, the poor and the deprived should become the main objects of our attention, the privileged beneficiaries of our apostolic efforts. Independently from any law or human contract, the poor have a right to a fair share of God's gifts, of' the world's riches, and to have a say in all decisions concerning their individual and'collective existence. Those individuals and structures that ignore their plight and keep them in their situation of poverty and depriva-tion are simply unjust. This is very much in the gospel and patristic tradi-tion: charity is,,the source of justice, its necessary complement and fulfill-ment; the goods of the earth belong to all, particularl3~ to the poor, and those'who happen to possess them are merely their'administrators. It is in this context that we have to interpret Augu'stine's definition of justice: "Iustitia est in subveniendis miseris." To give to the poor, to be with them in their difficulties, may be an act of charity, but it is also an act of justice, the payment of a debt. Faith and Sustice - "There can be nb promotion of justice in the full and Christian sense unless we also preach~ Jesus Christ and the mystery of reconciliation he brings. For us, it is Christ who, in the last analysis, opens the way to the complete and definitive liberation of men.'''-'1 Similarly, there is no true preaching of Christ, no effective proclama-tion of his gospel, unless a firm decision is taken to promote love of neigh-bor and justice, which are the necessary consequences of a true love of God, of a faith that works through the love of men.2-° The decree not only points to a complementarity between the service of faith and the promotion of justice, but also to the fact tl~at ~many of the root-causes of contemporary unbelief and atheism are the same as those of tc~day,'s widespread injustice. The barriers, the "idols," that block man's access to God greed, ambition, selfishness and pride are also those that "close" him to the needs and to the rights of his fellow-m.en. The liberating message of Christ--which, for those who want to excel in his service, is described by'St. Ignatius in his m6ditation 6f "The Two Standards"--attacks 20"Our Mission Today," n. 18. 211bid., n. 27. 221bid., nn. 27-28. Faith and Justice / 347 at its deepest roots not only atheism, but also injustice in all its manifesta-tions: it opens,man's heart to God and' also t.o others. ~ In the ligh~ of this decree, the mission to combat the many forms of con-" temporary unbelief and atheism--a mission entrusted to the Society of Jesus by the Holy Father.on the occasion of the 31st General Congregation appears in all its individual and collective, religious and social ,dimensions, and presents itself, under the aspects of the service of faith and the promo-tion of justice, as an eminently positive and liberating task that can give unity and coherence to the Society's apostolate.::~;, However--and the decree acknowledges it faith implies much more than human justice alone and the deep causes and consequence.s of unbe-lief cannot always be reduced to the social level. ,The liberation that,faith brings "cannot be contained in the simple and restricted dimension of eco~ nomics, politics, social and cultural life; it must envtsage the whole man . . . right up to and including openness to the absolute, even the divine Abso-lute; itjs therefore attached to a certain concept of man, to a view of man which it. can never sacrifice to the needs of any strategy, ~practice or short-term efficiency.'"-'" Not all service of faith should always arid necessarily lead to.,the pro-motion- of justice as its explicit and immediate objective. But it shohld at least remain open to that social dimension. It should be exercised in such a .way and in such a context that justice is in no way compromised. If it does not contribute directly to the promotion of brotherly love and of jus-tice, it should .at least prepare the ground for it. From the point of view of justice and taking into account the concrete context ofoone's own ~life and apostolate; there are very few activities that can be. called "neutral" today. In its observations about the decree "Our Mission Today," the Holy See had this to say: "The promotion of justice is unquestionably ,connected with evangel!zation, but as the Holy Father said in his closing remarks to the last Synod 9f Bishops in October of 1974--~'Human development'and social progress in~.the temporal ., order should not be extolled qn such ex-aggerated terms as to obscure the essential significance which the Church attributes to evangelization and the proclamation of the full gospel.'"~n Though, in our opinion, the decree clearly avoids this danger, granted some of the interpretations given to it, it is nol superfluous to emphasize that faith can never,be reduced to ~the promotion of justice alone. Christian liberation is incomplete if it neglects to proclaim salvation in,Jesus Christ.~'~ Does human liberation or the promotion of justice, in the economic, so-cial, political and cultural fields, constitute always a service of faith? The "albid., n. 19." °-4Evangelii Nuntiandi, n. 33; cf. also "Our Miss~ion Today," nn. 27-28. ":'Letter of Card. Villot to Fr. Arrupe of May 2, 1975. See REviEw FOa REL~OtrS. 35 [1976] pp. 33-45. "-'~Evangelii Nuntiandi, n. 34. 348 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/3" decree is not so clear and explicit about this, because when it refers to liber-ation and justice, it is usually o"in' the full'and Christian sense" of these ¯ terms. But by placing .the promotion of justice in a ]aith context, the Gen-era[ Congregation ~of the Society of, Jesus has reminded Jesuits that for a Christian the promotion of justice is a much more demanding task than for an atheist or for a non-Christian. It is evident that "not every notion of' liberation is necessarily consistent and compatible with an evangelical vision of man, of things and of events.''-'~ If the promotion of justice is to be ,a service of faith, it should.fulfill cer-tain~ conditions regarding the motives and the inspiration that impel us to seek that.promotion, regarding the way in which the promotion is carried out, and also regarding the objectives that we want to achieve: these should never exclude, and should always remain open to,,the transcendent dimen-sion that faith implies: ". the Church has the firm conviction that all temporal liberation, all political liberation-~even if it endeavors to find its justification in such or such page of the Old or New Testament, even if it claims for itsideological postulates and its norms of action theological data and conclusions, even if it pretends to be today's theology--carries within itself the germ of its own negation and fails to reach the ideal that it proposes for itself, when-ever its profound motives are not those of justice in charity, whenever its zeal lacks a truly spiritual dimension and whenever its final goal is not salvation and happiness in.God.''~s In various passages of the decree it is emphasized that'even ,if we fight for the.rights of men in the name of justice, love should always be our driv-ing andosustaining force. Besides: ". if the promotion of justice is to obtain its ultimate end, it should be carried out in such'a way as to bring man to desire and welcome the eschatological freedom and salvation' offered to us by God ,in Christ. The methods we employ, the actigities we under-take, should express, the spirit of the Beatitudes, and bring man to areal reconciliation. In this way the promotion of justice will show forth the Spirit and. the power of God. It will respond to man's deepest heeds: not just for bread, not just for freedom, but for God who is love, and who loves all men as sons.'''-'~' In the decree, to promote justice, to proclaim, the faith and to lead men to a personal encounter with Christ, these'are not three separate realities to which correspond three .separate apostolates, but rather three dimensions that should characterize the entire apostolic effort of the Society of Jesus today.:"' We should add that, in order to promote justice in a context of faith, it is not enough that faith and justice should be well integrated at the "-'Zlbid., n. 35. z:~"Our Mission Today," n. 33. , .~Olbid., n. 51. Faith and Justice / 349 theological and pastoral levbl, but also and mainly in the lives of those who [gromote it. " ° The Role. of Religious - What has been-shid so far provides a basis for what should be the spe-cific, Christian'contribution to the promotion of justice. Most of the prin-" ci[~les that~ have been enunciated apply not only to priests and to religious, but to all Christians. They represent the ethos that should~'inspire man's efforts towards a more'0human and just society, but they'do not tell" us what~those efforts should~ be. From that ethos to the °just communities, in.- stitutions and structures .that make up a just society; there is a long way to go. Christian inspired principl.es and values have to be incarnated into '~'a way of life," at~the individual and at the collective level. They have to b~ translhted into overall policies and concreteprogralns of action. Thisqs a task for which, besides Christiaia dedication, direct involvement in the eco-nomic, social, political~anff cultural fi61ds, technical knowledge and exper: tise are absolutely required. It is the primary, and specific task of lay peo-ple' whd~e particular v.ocation: places them in the midst of~the;world~and calls them to.renew, in faith and iffjustice, the temporal order ~The role o~f- the Church is rriainly one of inspiring, forming, supporting and ~guid~ng men~qn their struggle to build a ~world at,,once more human arid divine2: Th~ Holy See reminds Jesuits that this is even more true in their casi~, since,~they belong to '~ano institute "which is religious, not secular, and "' ~Besides th~ proclamation of the gospel message of justice, and the proph~etic'deffunciation of injustices tasks which°religious, like other Chris-tihns, hre~also, called to exercise there are functions that re~ligi6us seem to be"~ particularly equipped to carry out. The General Congregation of. the Society of Jesus mentions some of these: e.g., t~heologic.al reflection, "con-s¢ ientization" and education for justice, and the service of,the poor and e, Theological and doctrinal reflection on the main, problems of our day is~ a necessary prerequisite for any effectiqe-and" lasting pastoral action in the justice field¯'This reflection, conducted in the light of faith and "in a context ~which is both interdisciplinary and genUinely integrated with 'the culture iia" which it is done," ,will help to give greater' meaning and depth to whi~t we say or do in.favor Of justice; it will" also guide men in their search 'for, just'sol6tions to the vast and difficult problem~ that. confront them today. Thanks to this 'reflection we shall be able to exercise a critical and. liberating function regarding, the all-embracing ideologies and political systems which often tend to divide and enslave our contemporary world¯ :~Letter of Card. Viliot to Father Arrupe. :~""Our Mission TQday," n. 60. 350 / Review Jor Religious, Volume 35, 1976/3 ~o This reflection should also inspire all our efforts to educate men in faith and for justice: "men for others. , . persons whose lively faith impels them to seek and find Christ in the service of their fellow-men." Besides, in a world where the power of economic, social and p61itical structures and their vfist and deep impact on,the life of individuals and groups is recognized by all, "greater emphasis should be placed in our apQstolate on the con-scientization according to the gospel of those~,who have the power to bring about social chan~e?''~:' ','A commitment to the men and women who live.~,a life of hardship and who are the victims of oppression cannot be that of a few Jesuits only. It should be a characteristic of the life of all of us as individuals, and a char-acteristic of.our communiti'es and institutions as.well,v:'' Though not all re-ligious can share closely tlie lot of the poor and~of the oppressed,-the num-ber of ,those that experience more directly what it means to be poor, should certainly increase. Even if the poor are not always the immediate benefici-aries of our apostolic efforts, it should be clear to everybody~ that they con-stitute one of'our primary concerns. ~But "above all the gospel must.be proclaimed by witness.'':'~ "The first means of evangelization is the witness of an authentically Christian life. . It .is . . . primarily by her conduct.and, by her life that the Church will evangelize the world, in other words, by her living witness of fidelity to the Lord Jesus--the witness of poverty and detachment, of freedom in the_ face of the powers of this world, in short, the witness of san.ctity.":" If this is true of the whole Church, how much more of religious. Their most spe? cific contribution still remains that of bearing witness to faith'and to justic~ through the example of their,own lives.~They should embo~dy the radical demand~ of the~Beatitudes. They should be a sign, for the,world and for,the Church, of the total openness and. availability to God and to men that faith and justice demandY. It is through their tireless apostolic dediqation, but also by their faith-" fulness to the demands of their religious vows and consecrated life that this is mainly achieved. In a world in which the attachment to wealth and ma-terial comforts, man's selfishness and ambition appear as the'main roots of unbelief andfinjustice, the meaning and liberating pgwer of the religiou~ life appears in a. new light. The women and the men who, have chosen to, fol-low Christ i,n~his,great, renunciations, perpetuate his redeeming and liberat-ing work through the ages by preaching the gospel not by words alone; but by the witness :of their own lives: "It is in this.olight, that we.are asked to renew our dedication to the properly apostolic dimension, of.our .religious :~Zlbid.; n. 60. .~41bid., n. 48. "~Evangelii Nuntiandi, n. 21. at'Ibid., n. 41. Z7lbid., n. 69. Eaith and Justice~/ life. Ou~ consecration t6 God is really a rejection of those idols which the world is always tempted to adore: wealth, pleasure, prestige, power. Our chastity, poverty and obedience must bear witness to this visibly, Despite the inadequacy of our attempts to anticipate the kingdom which is to come, our vows ought to show how it is possible in practice, through the gospel and by God's grace, to have a community of men which is based on sharing rather than greed; on a willing openness to all men rather than a seeking after the privileges of caste or class or race; on service rather than domina-tion and exploitation. The men and women of our time fleed a hope which is eschatological; but they also need to have the beginnings of its realization presented to them here and now in a way that is meaningful to {hem.'':~s 3s"Our .Mission Today," n. 16. Faith and Justice: Reflection C~trl F. ~tarkloff, 'S.J. A Socio-Pastoral Father Starkloff's studies concentrated in the areas of missi~logy and pastoral theology (Ph.D., S.T.D., Ottawa), while his interest has focused on the American Indian. After six years of teaching theology at Rockhurst College, Fr. Starkloff, author of People o] the Center (Seabury, 1974) and of various articles on American Indian .religion and religious anthropology, is presently director of St. Stephens Indian Mission; P.O. Box 294; St. Stephens, WY 82524. The most pronounced thrust of Christian theology in the seventies has been a Ioiag overdue attempt to respond tO the Marxist thesis that, while the philosophers are trying to explain the world, the real task is to change it. In this famous dictum are stated the two poles that bound the work of theological reflection--theoria and praxis. From the highly speculative and' cloistered theology of the middle ages to the nineteenth century social gos-pelt theologians have tended to gravitate to the two poles separately rather than to embrace them together. It is to the great credit of the various "hope," "political" and "liberation" theologies that they are making this attempt at synthesis. When the recent Thirty-Second General Congregation of the Society of Jesus cast its mission statement in the mold of "the service of faith and the promotion of justice," this was not merely a re-focusing of the Jesuit voca-tion upon a unified spiritual world view touching both intellectual and prac-tical issues. More important, the statement sent Jesuits the world over into varying states of agony as they seriously set about confronting such very real and threatening documents. As may be expected, along with the con-frontation came many kinds of affective and speculative responses,-from 352 Faith and Justice." A Socio.Pastoral¯ Re[tection / 353 angry rejection to a perhaps naive embracing of the letter of the new law: The most~spirited discussion has taken place, at least in North America, in the academic milieu, while many of the mission apostolates--for example those branching out from the United States into Central and South Amer-ica are already caught ,up in efforts to live the gospel within the social and political struggles of the people. The academic debate (radical, activists to the contrary notwithst~anding) is essential to, prevent our ministry of justice from being a mindless lashing out at "evil in general." But the debate alone will remain barren ~--even for the academic .world. , What liberation theologians remind us is that there must be a social-pastoral "doing" in a context of thebretical inquir.y, .if theology is to be reflection on the lived faith of the community. In the academic community 4 found that the confrontation with the "single focus" approach to faith and justice led to a great deal of con-fusion, ranging Yrom highly theoretical arguments about definitions to de-bates about the morality of multi-national corporations. All of us must ob-viously share 'this confusion in wrestling with the problems of faith and justice, but it seems evident that we must transcend.the academic world if we are to advance the study creatively, because theology° is now finding it-self face to face with radically practical demands. What. we see here. is per-haps a new version of the old reminder,to theol.ogians to spend, less time at the desk (theory) and more time at the prie-dieu o(practice), only now with the contemplation of social evils being integral toJ our meditations. -Since returning to the radically pastoral ministry to. Native Americans, have realized how intense must be the struggle to synthesize our reflection., our prayer and our pastoral activity. It is out of this experience that I offer the following brief reflections, touching upon the need to understand "faith" as it is culturally expressed, and "justice" (a stumbling block to philosophers, legists and Scripture scholars alike) as the great longing of'~the deprived. In this article I shall offer one example of how the pastoral scene chal-lengers its workers to enrich the world of theology through their closeness .to the problems that.cry for solution. In taking this rather pragmatic ap-p. roach, I shah simply bypass much of the termino!ogica[ argum'6nt and sqt~tle provisionally for rather simple definitions of faith-evangelization and of iustice. By "faith" and ~'evangelization" let us understand'the real assent to being grasped and freed by Jesus Christ and proclaiming this event to our fellows.' By "justice" 1,intend the building of a more humane existence for men and women as we await the Kingdom of God. That Christ,~has come is shown in the Church's givi0g of social signs of the messianic presence. That he has not come definitively is painfully evident from the dismaying ex-perience of injustice all around us. Failh In our ministry among the Arapaho and Shoshone Indians, we have 354 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/3 found ourselves a testing-ground for our commitment to faith and justice. The constantly pressing demands force us to Work with. "inadequate" con-cepts as ,models, as we move toward the definition of mission goals and objectives. The narrative of our efforts may' perhaps serve others as a model, not of solutions, which are far distant for us, but of the kinds of analysis and activity that must be part of a socio-pastoral situation~ It should be added that, in Native American societies, as in all groups still close to their primal origins, the social-and the pastoral, religion and society, faith and culture are so intimately interwoven that in many cases the struggle for justice is an essential part of the upbuilding of faith, and the nourishing of authentic religious expression is one of the basic problems of justice. In order not to give way to frustration, the worker in many an Indian harvest field must admit that his labor of evangelization is still in its child-hood and that the signs of faith are ,going to be fragmentary. Much of this is due to the centuries of evangelization without inculturation practiced throughout North America. Much of it may also be attributed to the terrible social shocks of the conquest of the frontier, to the perfidy of whites in their dealings °with Indians, and to the frequent ridicule heaped upon the many authentic sign~ of God's presence in Native American culture, even by missionaries. A case in point might be the example of many of the Aymara people of Peru, whose religious life has been described by a de-voted and sympathetic missionary as retaining many elements that work counter to the basic gospel message, even though they have adopted Catholic rites and symbols quite extensively over the four-hundred-year period of the conquest.' If Monast's claims are true (and there are no doubt other missionaries who will disagree with him), they would be a case in point for painstaking examination, of both the cultural presupposi-tions of church ~vorkers among Indian peoples, and for the effectiveness of the means of communicating the gospel. The failure of early missionaries to communicate with the local culture, coupled with forced conversion, created this resigned acceptance by Indians of foreign signs and rituals, without rendering these signs effective symbols of the merciful and loving God. To varying degrees, on most Indian reservations in North America, one can find less extreme examples of' the Aymara experience, alongside many beautiful manifestations of Christian and Native American devotion. It is evident how complicated the problem of Christianity and culture really is, especially in cultures that must be described as living o{~ the mar-gin between' the ancient and the modern. Among Native Americans, the process calls for careful reflection and careful praxis; To be avoided at all costs is any naive movement to "adapt" Christian rites to' Indian culture, where the result would be a shallow syncretism whose components~ would 1See J. E. Monast; O.M.I., On les croyait chretiennes, Paris~ Editions du Cerf, 1969. Faith and Justice." A Socio-Pastoral Reflection / 355, be understood as' neither truly Indian nor truly Christian. Indian people sustained devastating culture shocks .as their religious expression underwent suppression by church and government leaders. An almost equally profound shock has come to many devout Christian Indians as missionaries sud-denly show themselves receptive to long-interdicted rites like the Sun Dance, Sweat Lodge, Peyote Tipi, Medicine Lodges, Harvest Festivals, and the like. The rapid about-face of so many church leaders vis-a-vis Indian religion, ~is well as of educators in relation to Indian language, is a source of some-what grim amusement to the old Indians who remember their boarding school days. Clearly, what is needed is a contemporary Indian Christianity. A return to the past is impossible, and yet the many beautiful traditions of the past are still available to nourish a genuine Indian faith life. Reflection and pastoral practice will have to concentrate both on the negative an~ positive aspects of Christian proclamation, as well as on the signs and countersigns present in Indian tradition. On the side of white missionaries there must be discernment of their preaching: where is it truly of Christ and his Church, and where is it merely of their European-American 6ul-tural impedimenta? A glib statement, this, because by this time the cultures have become so intermingled that clear separation is out of the question. I have .experienced a number of pastoral situations in which what I have tried to convince a Catholic.Indian is merely the "white American cultural symbol" is now truly part and parcel'of his or her worship. In our liturgies and homilies too, we find it necessary to use caution in "adaptation." For example, a facile attempt to pray with the Sacred Pipe or one of its derivatives, or to pray in the name of the Four Sacred Direc-tions, or too readily to equate "power" with "grace," will lead not only to a misuse of Indian rites and language, and thus to'contempt, but may also distort the Christian message by a too easy comparison. New chapters in the phenomenology and history of religion, added to the great work of scholars like Eliade and van der Leeuw, will have to'be written to enable pastors to employ with confidence the many native symbols that may seem fitted to Christian liturgy and catechesis. Such development (zalls for long and patient listening to the old i'eligious leaders, to whom imparting in-formation to outsiders does not come easily. In our desire to "inculturate" the gospel, further, we must also realize that contemporary0Indian culture, as mentioned.earlier, is a "wounded" culture more wounded even than many of the cultures with which the Church's pastoral ministry must deal. Even more than in its primal form, Indian life now needs the healing power of the gospel. For example, while many native 'rituals are truly profound signs of faith, they often seem to have no more permanent effect on life than do many of our Christian rituals. In the~missionary-social ministry, the word "interiorization" o[ the Good, News is as important as "inculturation." 356,/ Re.view for Religious, Volume 35, 1976/3 Thus we come to the most basic requirement of a pastoral ministry the spiritual life of the apostolic community. Into the damaged culture of the Indian people the Christian .ministers have chosen to insert their own wounded lives, and here it is that we cross over into the matter of justice as the necessary component of faith and proclamation, of the sign of a living community of teaching, fellowship and service. We find that we must live with these people the struggles of material and psychological uncer-tainty, an.d experience the pain involved in bringing a people into~com-munity. This insecurity is intensified as we find t.hat f_or so many Indians, especially youth, there is little intense concern for religion--Indian or Christianwor'for moral rudders to guide by. But we likewise feel that it is the vocation of the Church to aid in restoring the vital~ elements of Indian religion to their rightful place, if not within Christian liturgical settings,, then in events occurring alongside tra-ditional Christian practices, confidently, experienced by Indians who are also. Christians. With~ the grad.ual opening up of the tribal holy men so long driven into a nearly underground .religious activity, we find that we can be6ome instructed by attendance.at Indian rites and by judicious participa-tion in.them. Thus the pastor may find it possible to aid an Indian in religious and moral growth by encouraging him or her to more devout involvement ,.in traditional native rituals, often intermingled with sound Christian teaching, or paralleling it. Employment of Indian music, language and religious leaders at Christian sacramental events, especially funerals, has enriched the exp.erienc~s of Indians and pastors and educators. Homi-letic usage of Indian mythology often renders a basic Christian truth more comprehensible for an Indian congregation not to say for whites present as well. In considering an authentic form of Indian Christian ministry, we have begun to question,., the advisability of an Indian diaconate for Arapaho Catholics. We are discovering in the loosely defined but immensely impor-tant role of tribal elder a possible indigenous mimstry of instruction and sacramental worship that might more effectively speak to the culture with-out creating rthe tensions involved in calling Indians to become leaders under an imported rubric. A recent example of this was a, day of recollec-tion given to confirmands by two respected elders using much Arapaho language a.nd prayer forms. Another case in,point is the moving eulogy given by the elder at a funeral, touching the people in a manner that sup-plements if not supercedes the homily of the priest. Alo~ng the way, mistakes have.beenomade and will occur again. But I would submit that this careful mode of pastoral praxis will be the "labora-tory" out of which new theological understanding will grow. And in turn the critical work of theology will enrich and confirm and challenge pastoral practice. The demands placed on both pastoral and speculativ~e ministries are intimidating, but they are also an exciting call to creativity. Faith and JuStice: A Socio-Pastoral Reflection / 357 Justice The pastoral worker is in a position to avoid many theoretical traps in the struggle to come to terms with the meaning of justice, as well as to show that the great, stress given to it is not misplaced. While admittedly there is the danger of a simplistic approach to social problems, a discern-ing study of the milieu of pastoral work soon"reveals many of the immedi-ate and long-range problems of creating a more humane existence.' In studying the problems of Wind River Indian people, andin listening to the people themselves, we have been able to assemble a list of social problems ttiat as missionaries we are in a position to confront, or which we must consider for our future apostolate. In the larger picture, there is the already much-discussed problem of our materialistic American society, its wastefulness, its exploitiveness, its, political corruption. This has of course been the object of attack by militant organizations, and receives the bulk of attention given by, Catholic jour-nals. But, as wise Indian leaders assert, only so much can be obtained by protest against these evils. What is more urgent is the status of Indian peo-ple now, the positive growth by which they learn to confront, under their own power, the evils of a larger social environment. Impeding this growth, we have found, ~ire several outstanding inhumane situations, conditions of injustice intruding themselves into our meditations. The worst form of slavery :for Indian people today is ignorance, an ignorance that can be overthrown only by massive cariapaigns of quality education. This education must eventually be conducted and administered by their own people, if young Indians .are to become "conscientized~' to their own condition 'and rendered capable of changing it. Only a self-governed process of education is likely to capture the imaginations of Indian ctiildren and youth,~whose indifference to learning is lai'gely due to the fact that it is presented to them asia foreign import and thus another form of bondage., to white America: Thus, many mission schools, whether forced'~to it by lack of funds, or on the initiative of far-seeing administra-tors,"~ are now sharing the Indian political struggle to obt'ain government support for contracts under which Indian school boards will run schools and dictate policies. In the last year of our own efforts to support such a drive for Indian self-determination, in cooperation with Indian leaders, we have already observed a new sense of confidence in people tasting the hope of control of their own destiny. The pain in such growth to self-determina-tion will be considerable, but the Church should see here an opportunity to enter into a non-violent struggle for political liberation and the changing of oppressive structures. A problem closely connected to this move toward self-determination is the sudden unleashing by the United States government of vast sums of money upon people long accustomed to destitution and often not prepared to handle such funds. The worl( of Christian missionaries here is at least Review ]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/3 twofold. Firstly, we must assist the people to acquire financial and admin-istrative skills. Secondly, in the face of the all-too-human temptation to graft and pocket-lining, the Christian must be an example of detachment from self-interest aud proclaim by his deeds that he is here to serve. Tra-ditionally, Indian people have valued communal endeavor, and have of necessity been concerned with frugality. But greed and a type of self-serving individualism, whether stemming from tribal origins or from the white society, threaten to .mar the whole process of financial self-deter-mination with the ugliest scars of personal or factional opportunism. The gospel message here is clear, and it is up to the Christian to exemplify it. Thirdly, Indian tribes, partly because of the social disorders brought on by invasion and partly by natural tribal jealousies, are subject to family feuds and long-standing animosities. Tribal pressure can be the most en-slaving form of manipulation experienced anywhere. Merely preaching against this is ineffectual, but the Church has the opportunity to build re-sistance to such pressure through its practice of Christian reconciliation. First of all, we must attend to our own house: if Catholic and Protestant churches do not begin to show forth reconciliation, the preaching of unity and cohesion is countersigned by actual fact. Second, by various liturgical and social events, the Church is in a position to be a reconciler of families long at enmity, and within families themselves. The sponsoring of groups in which married couples can learn to communicate (the old forms of con-trol and relationship having been lost), is a high priority in mission plan-ning. Along with this, the providing and encouragement of simple good times is of vital necessity in the often gloomy life of a reservation. Finally, the most devastating plague visited by the invading culture upon Indian society is alcohol. Causes for Native American addiction have been argued ever since the importation of fermented liquor into North America. There are theories about Indian alcoholics that argue both physi-ological and social causes. But whatever the basic problem, the one fact cited by Indian leaders ever since the seventeenth century is that this foreign introduction is not for Indians. Once again, it is a problem of in: justice that in theory seems to defy every solution that has been offered. The churches have always struggled with the problem, most commonly through total abstinence pledges, which are weak but at least partially effective ammunition against the scourge. But again mission ~planning is called directly to the point of pastoral praxis rather than to theory. It is now, taking means to combat spiritual problems as idle and meaningless existence, loss of identity due to cultural vacuum, and inability to handle and articulate frustration, again due to loss of cultural expression. Here too missionaries have come to realize how closely related are the solution to these-problems and a strong praying community that can provide spiritual and emotional strength; the spiritual order and the social order are brought together in the prayer-life of the community. It has fallen to Faith and Justice: A Socior~astorbl Reflection / 359 the churches to nourish that kind of communal life of worship once in-spired by the great Indian prophets who arose in times of suffering and persecution. The above are examples of how a given pastoral ministry finds itself challenged by the demands of faith and justice. I present this brief essay with the hope that other ministries will continue to provide input into the discussion about faith and justice in our ministry of the Gospel. There is no doubt both need for and profit in challenging the cosmic problems of world hunger, exploitive corporations, military-industrial complexes and .the like. But there are also grave situations of unbelief and injustice right. on our present ministerial doorsteps. "Doing theology" around these prob-lems may enable us to develop a better theology and spirituality of min-istry that draws not only from exegesis and systematics, but from culture and from society as well. As this article is being written, the liturgical readings for weekdays include the Letter of James. With its roots in the rabbinic wisdom tradi-tion and inspired by that "faith in our Lord Jesus Christ" with which no "personal prejudice is to be involved" (Jm 2.'1), th~s epistle proclaims with great power thai "faith by itself without works is dead" (2:18). When the author asserts that "one is justified by works and not by. faith alone" (2:24), he is not attacking the cardinal Pauline teaching that works of the la~w cannot justify man before God. From context it is clear that James is eulogizi,ng~ a faith-filled Abraham whose obedience inspired him to .ful-fill all justice as he saw it. ' There is in the Letter of ~l~mes a spiritualit3i~that contemplates the faith-life as a life permeated by the wisdom given by God to all who stand firm, and intuits in that life ihe duties of a justified Christian. Chapter two of the epistle sets before us what is perhaps the New~Testament's most un-equivocal statement about the inseparability of faith and justice. St, Paul' is the great apostle of ,spiritual freedom based on~ the humble acceptance of our utter dependence on God'and ,On the belief that~ "ou.r" justice is God's justice, granted us 0nly as believers. But what James' message .tells us-- 6choing with greater severity thee teaching of Romans cc. 12-15, is what Alfri~d Delp Wrote to the people of.Nazi Qermany in 1945--that the most pious praye¢ becomes a blasptiemy on the lips 9f one who tolerates condi-tions fatal to mankind. As I once heard a Native American tribal leader tell an hssembly of sociologists and social workers, "Wi/h~us Indians there is no separation of Church and State!" This was no defense of an established church, but simply a statement of the Indian belief, phrased in white man's jargon, professing that wha~ is truly religious bfiilds the human community, and that what is truly just partakes of the wholeness of spiritual reality. The missionary must draw upon the spiritual-social wisdom of James and upon"the contemplative Indian integration of religion, and justice, if his theology of faith and justice is to progr.ess beyond the abstract. Biblical Guidelines to Marian Devotion J. Massyngberde Ford o Professor Ford is on the faculty of the Department of Theology at Notre Dame University. Well known for her scriptural studies and her other wri.tings, she is also involved 'in the women's movement within the Church and with the charismatic movement. Her mailing address: Department of Theology; University of Notre Dame; Notre Dame, IN 46556. 'In this essay I wish' to endeavor, as far as it is possible, t.o place l~Ia{~,, the Mother of Jesus, within her own milieu, against the historical, ~conomic.al, social and religious background of her tirde. I should like to dethrone her from any pedestal upon which we have placed her and see her as a vital historical figui'e in the vivid dram]a of heilsgeschichte as we find it in first century A.D. Palestine. The World into which Mary was Born Hengel remarks that by the time of'Jesus Palestine had been under Hellenistic rule and its resultant cultural influence and political unrest for some 360 years? Mai'y was born into a war-torn country. Her people had been under the foreign domination of the Romans since 63 B.C. when Pompey, the Roman general, not only conquered Palestine but audaciously entered the H01Y of Holies (Josephus B.J. l :152). In the eyes of Mary's co-religionists this was a sacrilege crying to heaven for vengeance. Under the Romans King Herod was permitted to rule Palestine but he was hated by the vast majority of his people. He was of despicable birth, an Idu-maean, and therefore only half Jewish: Jesus called his successor "that fox" 1Martin Hengel, Judaism and Hellenism, Fortress Press, Philadelphia, E. T. John 'Bowden, 2nd revised edition, 1973, vol. I, p. 1. 360 Biblical Guidelines to Marian Devotion (.Lk 13:32). Herod indulged extravagantly in Hellenistic customs, large building programs, games, shrines to the Caesars, and he had ten wives. He burdened the.people with heavy taxation and was unscrupulous and cruel in exactihg it. Economically the country was in poor condition especially because of the large lati[undia (large country estates) often owned by absentee landlords, many of whom were non-Jewish (cf. the Parable of the Wicked Tenants Mk 12:1-12 and par.). However, more intensified domestic or political resistance arose from the time of the death of Herod the Great in 4 B.C. It is from this period that scholars would date the rise or organization of the Jewish national-ists, the Zealots. They were a prophetic movement.~ They espoused only one master, namely, God; they refused to pay the Roman taxes and, while showing incredible witness in the face of suffering and even death, they were fanatical and violent in their opposition to Rome or those who sided with her, even their kinsfolk. They would neither look at a coin with an image inscribed on it or walk beneath the shadow of an idol. Their leaders, Judah the Galilean, his two sons and other~relatives formed a kind of dynasty which added solidity to the movement. Galilee was a hotbed of the Zealots and, indeed, sometimes the designa~tion "Galil~ans" seems to have been used for them.:' The city of Sepphoris in Galilee became one of the five Sanhedrins during the Roman rule and at one point was captured by the Jewish nationalists. The rebellion was quelled by Varus who burned it and sent its inhabitants into slavery (Josephus Ant. 17:286-298, B.J. 2:66-71). Herod Antipas rebuilt the city. Sepphoris was northwest of Nazareth. This party of the Zealots attracted both the educated and the poorer rural people and also some of the more violent school of Pharisees, the Shammaites. This is but a brief reference to the political and economic status of Mary's country but it is of immense importance for understanding both the psycholog3( and spirituality of Mary (and Joseph) and their peculiar circumstances. It is hardly credible that they should remain untouched by tile stirring events which occurred during their life-time and especially within their own district. When we ~turn to the religious scene again we witness "fightings out-side and fears within (cf 2 Co 7:5). The Sadducees were largely fromthe aristocracy, wealthy, priestly figures who took a fundamentalist interpreta-tion of the Scripture, e.g. they upheld the lex talionis, an eye for an eye and tooth for a tooth. They repudiated the afterlife, especially the resurrection of the dead, providence, and angels. They held the majority of seats on the '-'For material on the Zealots see S. G~ F. Brandon, Jesus and the Zealots, Manchester University Press, Manchester, 1967; W. R. Farmer. Maccabees, Zealots attd Josephus, Columbia University Press, New York, 1957; Martin Hengel, Die Zeloten~ E. J. Brill, . Leiden, 1961. :~Brandon op. cit. pp. 54 cf. 78, 226 note 4 and 339 note 4. 36:2 / Review for Religious, Volume 35, 1976/3 Sanhedrin, the Jewish council. Then there were~the two Pharisaic. parties. The school of Hillel, the gentle, humble Hillel who strove to mitigate the Jewish law to help the poor and who was nearly lynched by some of~ the other Pharisees when he went to offer sacrifice in the Temple. His teach-ing was close to Jesus'. Consider, for example: My homiliation is my exaltation: My exaltation is my humiliation. Do not appear naked (among the dressed) neither dressed (among the naked): do not appear standing (among those who sit) neither sitting (among those who stand) do not appear laughing (among those who weep) neither weeping (among those who laugh). The rule is: Do not deviate from the usage of men? However, opposed to the school of Hillel stood the school of Shammai. They were ultrastrict observers of the law, perhaps allies with the Zealots, and once placed a sword in their academY to symbolize suffering and death for those who dissented from their views. In the forties A.D. they passed the eighteen Halakolh (precepts) which were designed to minimi~ze contact between Jew, Samaritan and Gentile? Five of the precepts in'volved the dietary laws (contrast Jesus' attitude towards the latter Mk 7:14-23). Further one must glance at the status of the priesthood at the time of Jesus. Priesthood was, of course, hereditary but Herod and the Roman procurator had enormous influence upon the choice of the high priest. In fact the Romans even kept the high priestly vestments in custody and only allowed the Jews to use them on the greater liturgical feasts (Josephus Ant. 18:90-95 cf 15:403-5; 20:6-15). J. Jeremias'; estimates that there were about 7,200 priests, and, if one adds the Levites, 18,000 clergy in Jerusalem. However, there was a serious rift between the country priests, such is th~ father bf John the Baptist, and the permanent Jerusalem priests. The former were usually of moderate means, sometimes poor. The latter carried on brisk trade especially with animals and qther items needed for the sacrifices. Man3~ of the priests had large incomes5 Some indulged in simony. Some had good relations with the Roman governors. Many of the priests also plied a trade such as car.pentry and stone masonry. Prodi-gious wealth was found among the priests." Finally, one must take into consideration the community which lived 'ICited from Nahum Glatzer, Hillel the Elder,, Schocken Books, New Yoi'k, 1956, p. 38. .- ~'Hengel, Die Zeloten op, tit. pp. 204~208. ~,Joachim Jeremias, !erusalem in the Time o[ Jesus, E.T.F. H. and C. H. Cave, 3rd ed. S.C.M. Press, l_ondon, 1969, p.200. Zlbid., p. 105f. '~lbid., p. 96f. ' Biblical Guidelines to Marian Devotion / 363 near the Dead Sea, the Qumran covenanters. They became~eventually like a sect, withdrawn into the desert, keeping the law ~Vith a strictness not even found among the Pharisees and living in expectation of two Messiahs, one political and one priestly. They believed in the Holy War. I have taken some time. in briefly reviewing the state of Palestine for it is only"hgainst this background that we can~gauge the enormous appre-hensioh, perhaps even fear, which would seize a mother's heart when she realized that her son 'would find himself unacceptable 'to most. of these parties because of his teaching and practice. The History of Mary We may turn now to the history of Mary herself. She may have come from priestly stock as her kinsfolk were Zachary and Elizabeth (Lk 1:36). The Proto-evangelium of James (written not before 150 A~D:) describes Mary's parents and their anxiety for a child. It tells how an angel came to Anna and said "Anna, Anna, the Lord htis heard your prayer. You shall c6nceive and bear, and your offspring shall be spoken of in the whole world." And Anna said: "As the Lord my Gd~l lives, if I bear a child, whether male or female, I will bring it a~ a gilt to the Lord my' God, and it shall serve him all the days o[ its lije" (4:1 ). In this gospel Mary is offered to the Temple at the age of three. When she was twelve the council of priests decided that she would marry "that she may not pollute the temple of the Lord" (6:2). It is also reported that she helped to make a veil for the~ temple of~ the ~.L.,ord (10:1).~' It is commonly supposed that this wor.k is pious fiction.'H0wever, it is not neces~ sary, either to accept or reject every detail in an apocryphal gospel: 'The Gospel of Thomas is a good example of this. Indeed some features of the Proto-evangdlium ~of James have' close affinity to Luke?° ,Concerning Mary's residence in the Temple and her making curtains it is~worth remarking that Jereoias" reports that the Temple ct~'rtains were a constant occupation. Shek, 5:1 describes Eleazar who took care of these and was obliged to find "skilled weavers and knitters to produce annually two of the Temple curtains, 20 cubits wide and 40 cubits long: these were hung in 13 places in the Temple" (Yoma 54a; Ket. 106a). Each curtain had to be woven in ~six colors on 72 strands, each with 24 threads (Shek. 8:5; Yom. 7lb. Tos. Shek. 13, 178). According to Shek. 8:5 (the variant readings differ: of. Ket. 106a; Jer Shek. viii.4, 51b. 13). Eighty-two maidens had tq produce two curtains each year. The curtains were made of blue, scarlet and purple stuffs, and byssus (fine white linen). 9E. Hennecke, New Testament Apocrypha, E.T.R. Mcl. Wilson, Lutterworth Press, London, vQI. 1, pp. 370-388. ~°lbid., pp. 380, 381-2386. X~Jeremias op. cit. p. 25. 364 /~Review ]or Religious, Volume 35, 1:976/3 I tentatively suggest.that it is possible-that Mary was given ~,to the Temple until she was 12 ~years old. In the Proto-evangelium of James the curtains which Mary helps to weave are made of gold, amianthus, linen, silk, hyacinth-blue, scarlet and purple.1~ The colors are similar to those mentioned in the Mishnaic and Talmudic texts. Children associated with the Temple were also required for the ~eremony of the red heifer:but the text does not intimate the gender of the children (Parah 3:2-4). But im-portantly, if Mary were in the Temple for some time, she must have been apprised of matters both good and bad which revolved round the Temple. She might realize, for example, the greed and wealth of many of the high priests and the money involved inthe sacrificial victims trade. Thus she would understand,fully when Jesus cleansed the Temple but she would be apprehensive, for the Temple had special police among its personnel. Mary was betrothed and espoused to Joseph. He was probably a land owner as he was obliged to register his property during the Roman census. "Josephus mentions property explicitly when he refers to the census under Quirinius, if this is the one to which Lk 2:1-3 refers (Ant. 18:1). We might also add the possibility of Joseph's property being confiscated either by the Romans or by Herod or the tax collectors during the family's sojourn as political refugees in Egypt. Ownerless property could be con-fiscatedY~ This author should concur with Buchanan who, commenting on 2 Co 8: 9, writes: The likelihood'thatJesus was originally from a wealthy family and that he gave up his wealth for the movement he led seems greater ~hen his rela-tionship to wealthy tax collectors "and rulers is considered. Most of his parables and teachings seem to have bee~ directed to an upper class of people who had money to lend, give, and use for hiring servants. His willingness to surrender this for the Kingdom of God would have given him more authority to ask others to give up all they had than he would have had if he had been reared in poverty. It would have been difficult in the Near East for a poor man to gain a hearing with the rich as Jesus evidently did.14 She also agrees with David Flusser1~ who states: Viewing Jesus' sayings against the background of contemporary Jewish learn-ing, . . . it is easy to observe that Jesus was far from uneducated. He was 12In an article published by the Marian Library, Dayton, Ohio, I hive tentatively put forward the thesis, that Mary was responsible for the Hebrew original of the Epistle to the Hebrews. Mary had known her son much longer than any of the~ disciples and would be an extremely prolific source of knowledge. l:~j. Duncan M. Derrett, Law in the New Testament, Darton, Longman and Todd, London, 1970, pp. 300-306. ~aGeorge W. Buchanan, To the Hebrews. the Anchor Bible, Doubleday, New York, 1972. pp. 208-209. ~David Flusser, Jesus, E.T. Ronald Walls, Herder and Herder, New York, 1969, p. 18. Biblical Guidelines to Marian Devotion / 365 perfectly at home both in Holy Scripture, and in oral tradition, and knew how to app!y.this scholarly heritage. Jesus' Jewish education ~.was incompa-rably superior to that of St. Paul. In the light of the tenets of these two scholars one is persuaded to see~the Holy Family,° not as poor, uneducated, politically uninformed peasants, but people who were fully conscious of the important .factors of the state of Palestine, people who were politically, economically, socially and religiously alert. Neither do they appear to have been bystanders to the situation. Mt 2:21ff seems to ,suggest that Joseph intended to reside permanently in Bethlehem after the, flight to Egypt but returned to Mary's village of Nazareth because of the political situation. Mary was probably betrothed at the age of twelve rand a half.TM David Daubelr has found an affinity between the book of Ruth and the Annunci-ation pericope. He gives special attention to the word "overshadow" (epischiazO) and its Semitic equivalents salalo(Hebrew) and tallel (Ara-" maic).~ These are frequently used of the overshadowing of the divine pre~sence. All three words can refer to the descent of.the Spirit of, God and also,to the spirit of prophecy; both meani'ngs are applicable in the case of Mary. However, a further usage is available. Associated with tallel is the noun tallith which designates "the cloak of a pious or scholarly man." This was distinguished by '.'wings." The rabbis used the expression "to spread the tallith (or wi, ng) over a woman" to denote marital relations. Thus Ruth can say "I am Ruth thine ha, ndmaid; spread therefore thy wing over thine handmaid, for thou art a redeemer'''~' (cf Rt 3:9). A similar phrase, in a spiritual sense, occurs in Ezk 16:8 where God says to Jeru-salem, "Thy time was the time of love, and I spread my wing over thee." Moreover, the rabbis had another.euphemism for "cohabitation," namely, ','to lay one's power (reshuth) over a woman." In the Lucan narrative of the Annunciation the a.ngel uses both the words "power" (-reshuth) and "overshadow" (-tqllel) and Luke clear!y, indicates that God will be the agent~.who im~plements this. Mary gives her consent inswords very similar to those of Ruth:: "Behold I am the handmaid of the Lord; let it be to me according.to your word" (Lk 1:38). The.us the narrative of the annunciation is presented in terms of a be-trothal or marriage.yontract or .marital consummation, the proposal by God and the acceptance express.ed by ~Mary:. The event had been fore-shadowed in the Book of Ruth. In pondering the words of the angel, perhaps lreported by,~ Mary to him, Joseph might well say "God has laid his power over her" and "He has spread his wing over her." Tl~en, if l~;Jeremias op. cit. ~ . lZDavid Daube, The New Testament attd Rabbinic Judaist~t, Athlone Press, Londoh, 1956, pp. 27-51. ~Slbid., p. 33. ~ X'qlbid., p. 33. ~' " : 366 / Review [or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/3 used the principie of rabbinic biblical interpretation known as kal wa homer (inference frofa the minor premise to the major), he would argue that, if a woman were forbidden to her husband because she had been impreg-nated by another man, how much more would Mary be forbidden to her husband if God had laid his power over her. Thus Joseph might conclude that through her voluntary consent Mary had become the property of God for all time. She ffould be "forbidden to: the whole world" for God had chosen her like a consecrated vessel--or the ark in the sanctuary. This was an analogy used by Jews contemporary with Jesus, namely, a woman is set apart for one man as a vessel is for the Temple (Kid 2b). Joseph might also have felt that Is 54:4 was fully realized:: For your mak

Issue 28.6 of the Review for Religious, 1969. ; EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITORS Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Augustine G. Ellard. S.J. ASSISTANT EDITOR John L. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Correspondence with the editor, the associate editors, and the assistant editor,.as well as books for review, should be sent to I~VIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 631o3. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's Church; 32~ Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ecclesiastical approval by faculty members of the School of Dt, imty of Saint Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building, .539 North Grand Boulevard, Saint Lores, Missouri 63103. Owned by the Missouri Province Edu-cational Institute. Published bimonthly and copyright (~) 1969by REVIEW FOg REmnlous at 428 East Preston Street; Baltimore, Mary-land 21202. Printed in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at Baltimore, Maryland and at additional mailing offices. Single copies: $1.00. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $5.00 a year, $9.00 for two years; other countries: $.5.50 a year, $10.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order paya-ble to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Renewals and new subscriptions, where accom-panied by a remittance, should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; P. O. BOX 671; Baltimore, Maryland 21203. Changes of address, business correspondence, and orders not accompanied by a remittance should be sent to REVIEW RELIGIOUS ; 428 East Preston Street; Baltimore, Maryland 21202. Manuscripts, editorial cor-respondence, and books for review should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to the address of the Questions and Answers editor. NOVEMBER 1969 VOLUME 28 NUMBER 6 BROTHERS THOMAS MORE, C.F.X:, AND LEO RYAN, C.S.V. Development: A New Challenge to Religious In a majority of the articles written these days in religious journals, the emphasis has been largely on areas which are of great concern for those seeking ways to achieve renewal and adaptation in the religious life. As a result, new and valuable insights have been gained in such areas as government, the evangelical counsels, prayer, community, personal responsibility, the aposto-late, secularization, and formation. There is, however, one significant movement which has yet to be fully treated in journals written for re-ligious. And because this movement could elicit from the religious families in the Church a response corre-sponding to that which characterized the great move-ments in the past, we want to draw the attention of religious to this phenomenon so that it" can become a + growing part of the literature on renewal and adapta- + tion. This movement can best be described as development. Because development is still more or less in its infancy stage, only gradually emerging into a full-blown move-ment in society and in the Church, it is not our in-tention to give here a definition of the term. Instead, we want to describe a number of events and programs which will illustrate not only the potential dynamism of de-velopment but also the implications which it has for religious institutes. On January 6, 1967, Paul VI issued the motu proprio Catholicam Christi Ecclesiam setting up the Pontifical Justice and Peace Commission. The objective of this Commission would be "to arouse the people of God to 869 Thomas More, C.F.X., is superior general of the Xa-verian Brother~; Antonio Bosio 5; 00161 Rome, Italy. Leo Ryan, C.$.V., is general councilor of the Viatorian Fath-ers and Brothers; Via Sierra Nevada 60; 00144 Rome, Italy. VOLUME 2B, 1969 + 4. 4. Brothers More and Ryan REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS full awareness of its mission at the present time, in order on the one hand, to promote the progress of poor nations and encourage international social justice, and on the other, to help underdeveloped nations to work for their own development." 1 Shortly after establishing this new curial organ, Paul VI issued his famous encyclical, Populorum progressio, which is the charter of the Pontifical Commission and its basic text. The call of the encyclical is to all the Church, which is to be educated, stimulated, and in-spired to action by it. Cardinal Maurice Gilroy of Quebec, president of the Pontifical Commission, and Monsignor Joseph Gremil-lion, its secretary, set about the arduous task of travel-ing throughout the world to create national commis-sions for justice and peace witkin bishops' corr[erences. After this work had been completed, the commission turned to the Union of Superiors General in Rome to solicit its support. Monsignor Joseph Gremillion per-sonally addressed the Union, urging it to establish con-tact with the Commission and to take an active role in the promotion of the aims of development within all the religious families of the Church. in May, 1968, the Union unanimously approved the writers of this article as its official liaison with the Pontifical Commis-sion. Now that the liaison committee has been in existence for one year, it is in a position to discern a number of trends which indicate the response religious institutes will make to development in the immediate future. The remainder of this paper will be devoted to an elabora-tion of these trends and a brief description of the more important programs from which these trends have is-sued. At the present time we see four trends in development which have significant implications for religious insti-tutes. It is very dear now that development has an ecumenical character. Second, because of the nature of development, religious institutes will be looking for- 1Father. Arthur McCormack makes the following clarification: "The name Justice and Peace must be understood in the following way: Justice means social justice within and between nations so that every human being should have conditions of life in keeping with his human dignity, which will enable him to progress towards a fully human development--to the fullness of a more abundant life~ and enable him also to make his contribution to building a new and better world. Peace is to be understood, not in the sense of main-raining peace or working for peace in the political or diplomatic sense, but in the sense of building peace--the new name for peace is development--producing the conditions that are fundamental for peace, a more just, humane, better world in accordance with para. 76 of the Encyclical, Populorum Progressio" ("The Pontifical Com-mission Justice and Peace," World Justice, v. 8 (1967), pp. 435-55). ward to training specialists in planning, sociology, tech-nology, and social justice. Towards this end, some re-ligious institutes are establishing within their general administration a secretariat for development, Third, there is a growing spirit of collaboration within re-ligious institutes, since it is evident that no religious family can tackle the problems with its own resources. Finally, there is a search for a new theology of develop-ment. 1. Ecumenical Character oI Development In the spring of 1968, the Pontifical Commission of Justice and Peace, the Catholic .Rural Life Society, under the direction of Monsignor Luigi Liguitti, SEDOS, FERES, and ISS2 sponsored a two-day seminar on the Church in developing countries at the theologate of the Oblates of Mary, Rome. This seminar was arranged specifically for superiors general and their curias to acquaint them with development. However, interest in the meeting was so great that it turned out to be a cross-section of some of the most important European bodies having a Third World orientation. At the meet-ing were representatives from several Roman Congrega-tions, the German mission-sponsoring agencies Adveniat and Misereor, Caritas Internationalis, Protestant ~6b-servers, sociologists, and a number of developing organi-zations from Italy, France, Germany, Belgium, and Hol-land. The Catholic-Protestant team under the direction of Canon Houtart (FERES) and Professor Egbert de Vries (ISS) gave the audience a report of their three-year Ford-funded study of the Churches' work in the four developing countries of India, Brazil, Indonesia, and the Cameroons, in the areas of education, medicine, and social work.3 But of far greater importance than any of the socio-logical findings of the three-year study of FERES-ISS was the ecumenical character of the study and the seminar. The meeting was tangible evidence of the growing spirit of collaboration between the Catholic Church and the World Council of Churches, especially in an area which was once the most sensitive one in ~SEDOS (Servizio di Documentazione e Studi) is a cooperative documentation and research venture on the part of about thirty superiors general in Rome. FERES (Federation Internationale des Instituts Catholiques de Recherches Socio-religieuses) is the inter-nationally well-known research center in Brussels. ISS (Institute for Social Studies) is the Protestant counterpart of FERES and is lo-cated at The Hague. 8 A report of this seminar has been published by SEDOS under the title, The Church in Developing Countries;.Via dei Verbiti, 1; Rome, Italy. ÷ ÷ Development VOLUME 28, 1969 871 4" 4" Brothers More and Ryan REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS the past--the developing countries. It is not surprising, then, that one of the most important conclusions ac-cepted by the superiors general was that cooperation between the different denominations be extended. Moving quickly from theory to action, the superiors general of several congregations devoted to medicine shortly after the seminar entered into discussions with the Christian Medical Commission, a semi-auton-omous organism related to the World Council of Churches. As a result of a number of meetings between Mr. J. McGilvray of the Executive Committee of the CMC, Geneva, and these religious congregations, the CMC Executive Committee reached the important con-sensus this past March that five Roman Catholic con-sultants would be appointed to the Commission after nomination by the Secretariat for the Promotion of Christian Unity. These consultants were present at the Commission's general assembly in August of this year. A third example of ecumenical cooperation in de-velopment is of far greater significance, since it was mounted on a larger international stage. In 1967 the World Council of Churches and the Pontifical Commission of Justice and Peace formed the E~ploratory Committee on Society, Development and Peace (SODEPAX) as an experimental instrument for ecumenical collaboration. Father George H. Dunne, S.J., formerly of Georgetown University, was appointed by Dr. Eugene Carson Blake and Cardinal Maurice Roy as joint secretary of this committee. SODEPAX held a conference in April, 1968 on world cooperation for development in Beirut, Lebanon, to which it invited sixty specialists from all over the world. The participants were Protestants, Orthodox, Catholics, observer-consultants from intergovernmen-tal bodies, and two participants from the Muslim com-munity of Lebanon.4 The conference was the first attempt on the part of the World Council of Churches and the Roman Catholic Church to jointly study and plan the involve-ment of the Christian bodies for the betterment of society. It is a concrete example of the way churches will unite their moral forces towards achieving human dig-nity and world peace. One of the conclusions of the meeting states this objective in terms which make an appeal to all religious: This Report has suggested many ways in which the Churches, acting together, can foster development programs both in ¯ A report of this conference has been published under the title, World Development, the Challenge to the Churches; Publications Department; The Ecumenical Center; 150 Route de Ferney; Geneva, Switzerland. the advanced and developing countries. Joint action for de-velopment will serve basic Christian aims. To work for devel-opment is to express in particular measures the aspiration for brotherhood and human dignity for every individual. And it can also be a significant contribution toward a more orderly and peaceful world. Development can gradually reduce the gross imbalances which promote instability; working together can encourage a wider sense of community among mankind; and the strengthening of international agencies will create structures for common effort and order. These three examples of ecumenical collaboration in the field of development are growing evidences of the need for all religious institutes to work together with other Christian bodies to concert their actions for play-ing their part in the long task of building a more stable international order of well-being and peace for the whole human family. This ecumenical spirit should be built into the thinking and planning of general and provincial chapters, constitutions, formation programs, and the apostolic work of religious families. It should also be the concern of national conferences of re-ligious institutes. The work is of too vast proportions to be left to the interest of those few religious who have up until now been involved in development. 2. Specialists and International Vocation The second trend in development in religious com-munities is the deployment of personnel to act as specialists in the Third World, along with the estab-lishment within general curias of a secretariat for de-velopment. Shortly after the seminar on the Church in develop-ing countries, Misereor approached the superiors general with an offer to provide funds for the training of some specialists who would assist bishops' conferences in de-veloping countries in setting up offices of trained experts in planning. The offer came as a result of the dis-cussions at the seminar concerning the lack of the skills of planning for the proper deployment of dwin-dling personnel, the retooling of personnel for meeting the new needs of the day, and the necessity for co-operating with governments in national planning. The time had come, it was agreed, for religious com-munities to become deeply involved in this modern approach and to train experts who would have com-petency as well as apostolic zeal. After many months of discussions with the superiors general, Misereor agreed early this year to provide funds for the training of highly qualified development experts for the countries of Indonesia, East Africa, and the Congo. Other countries would be added as the pool of experts becomes larger. As the agreement was finally 4, 4, Development VOLUME 28, 1969 873 Brothers More ¯ and Ryan REVIEW FOR ~ELIGIOUS worked out, the funds are in the form of a scholarship for 'the trairiing of experts in the fields of social ac-tion, science, communication, cooperatives, trade unions, medicine, agriculture, and technology. These experts would be seconded to central advisory and coordinat-ing bodies in the selected countries and would devote themselves specifically to the analysis of the problems, the planning of a strategy, and the coordination of pro-grams with national planning. This new type of service would be rendered by the religious ~ommunities only at the invitation of interested bishops' conferences of one of the three countries. This proposal clearly indicates that as the religious communities become more involved in social action, they will need more experts in this field. It also be-comes increasingly clear that religious congregations will now turn their efforts towards promoting and edu-cating a corps of highly qualified men and women who will act not for their individual communities alone but in teams for ihe good o[ society. This task force con-cept of highly competent religious from different in-stitutes could be the most dramatic response of religious congregations to the challenges provided in the Third World. From what we have just said, it is evident that re-ligious will have to respond more promptly and in-telligently to what we would call the apostolate of internationalism. To act as specialists in the Third World, to become globally involved in development, re-llgious will be entering more actively into what Barbara Ward calls our planetary community, a community which. cuts across all the lines and barriers of nations and races. In such a community, religious ought to feel very much at home, especially since the vision of all founders of religious communities extended beyond the hori-zons of a particular country or culture. That spirit which inspired founders to send their men and women to meet the needs of mankind in all parts of the world must now impel their followers to send trained and competent personnel to participate in international bodies which are working to achieve the humaniza-tion' of mankind. This apostolic thrust could be as dramatic and far-reaching as the missionary journey of Francis Xavier to the Indies. There are a number of religious currently engaged in this international apostblate. Those we have met or know of are: Father John Schutte, S.V.D., who was recently appointed by Pope Paul as assistant to Mon-signor Joseph Gremillion, Secretary of the Pontifical Commission of Justice and Peace; Father Arthur Mc- Cormack, M.H.M., special consultant to the same Com-mission; Father Philip Land, S.J., Gregorian University, Rome; Father George H. Dunne, s.J., SODEPAX Joint Secretary, Geneva; Father Thomas F. Stransky, C.S.P., Secretariat for Promotion of Christian Unity; Mother Jane Gates, Superior General of the Medical Missionary Sisters, who is working with the World Council of Churches in the field of medicine; and Father Theodore M. Hesburgh, C.S.C. The first indication we have of a religious institute becoming serious about development and the promo-tion of the international apostolate is the derision of Father Pedro Arrupe, superior general of the Jesuits, to establish a secretariat for development within the curia of his general administration. Father Francis Ivern has been appointed by Father Arrupe to head this secretariat. Similar offices could be set up in many of the larger congregations of men and women. In the case of smaller units, it is quite possible that interested and competent religious could be, as a matter of policy, trained to take their place in general curias. Others could be as-signed to work on task forces, national bishops' con-ferences, international or national research centers, na-tional conferences of religious, and the pontifical or the national conferences of justice and peace. 3. Spirit of Collaboration It is quite evident from what has been said above that there is growing within religious congregations and institutes a greater spirit of collaboration to make the response called for by Populorum progressio and the objectives of the Pontifical Commission of Justice and Peace. Since the work of development is of such gigantic proportions, no one rellgious institute can unilaterally plan its involvement in it. No one individual religious, or even a cadre of them, can shoulder the heavy re-sponsibility of this new apostolate. It must be the work of all religious, or the efforts for the humanization of mankind will be considerably weakened. One model of collaboration already exists in Rome. It is an organization to which we have already re-ferred many times, namely, SEDOS. This voluntary organization of a number of superiors general, formed only six years ago on the initiative of a few missionary congregations, has in a short time given proof of the results that can flow ~om the spirit of collaboration. Within a span of just one year, for imtance, SEDOS has held a seminar on development, a symposium on the theology of development and mission, and a con-÷ ÷ ÷ Developme~ VOLUME 28, 1969 875 Brotmheurl s. RM~oarne REVIEW FOR.RELIGIOUS terence on intermediate technology. As noted already, it has worked out an agreement with Misereor to finance the education of a number of specialists for developing countries. It is also actively engaged in es-tablishing guidelines for a mutual exchange of ideas between the World Council of Churches and medical missionary congregations in the field of medicine. SEDOS is unique in a number of ways. Its member-ship consists of both men and women religious. Its ex-ecutive secretary is Father Benjamin Tonna, a secular priest from Malta, who is a professional sociologist. The director is Miss Joan Overboss, a multilingual expert from Holland. But its uniqueness lies principally in its spirit of co-operation among the superiors general in facing the new problems evolving from the Third World. Since there was no structure among religious institutes or in any Roman curial congregation to help religious fami-lies prepare themselves for their involvement in the work of development, superiors general united their forces to establish a documentation and research center which would enable them to convert from a family business to a modern and efficient concern. Thus, for the first time in the Church's history, religious congre-gations have banded together at the highest level to make their contribution in an area in which the Church in recent years has focused its principal at-tention. This same spirit of collaboration is evident in such countries as the Congo and Indonesia, where religious are working together with bishops' conferences in es-tablishing planning secretariats. Quite recently we read an appeal by the East African conference of religious to its membership to turn itself to the question of de-velopment and to form a task force that would assist the bishops' conferences in establishing a secretariat for development. If religious congregations are to involve themselves in this apostolate, this spirit of cooperation must con-tinue to grow. Many religious want to see their in-stitutes take decisive measures to execute the social objectives of Populorum progressio and to work actively to achieve the goals of the Pontifical Commission of Justice and Peace. The younger generation of religious also want to become actively engaged in working to create conditions within and between nations that are in keeping with the human dignity of man. But they need some concrete programs to give them direction. As a step towards establishing some programs, con-ferences of religious and individual institutes could give attention to the following suggestions made by the Pontifical Commission of Justice and Peace at the end of its first plenary meeting of March, 1967: 1. That Bishops' Conferences, teaching orders and all those concerned with education should be encouraged to include the teaching of international social justice in the curricula of schools, seminaries, universities and all institutions of learn-ing. 2. That retreats, sermons and specifically religious instruc-tion should emphasize the discussion of world justice, ~. That such curricula should be, where possible and suit-able, worked out on an ecumenical basis. 4. That competent study groups, again when suitable on an ecumenical basis, should continue the work of elaborating a doctrine of world-wide development and justice. 5. That lay groups of all kinds be invited to include world justice in their programs of adult education and, when com-petent to do so, assist the Commission in suggesting programs for the mass media. 4. A New Theology ot Development A concern very often expressed at the seminar on de-velopment alluded to above was that what was needed was an honest exchange of views on the theological foundation of development. In fact, one of the prin-cipal resolutions of the seminar asked the Congregation for Evangelization to put the theology of development on its agenda for its next meeting and for eventual presentation to the Holy Father as agenda for the next Synod of Bishops. Another resolution requested a sym-p. osium on mission and development. These two actions reveal that a theology of develop-ment has become a matter of urgency for religious. So long as the effort of missionaries was expended 'within the limits of a parish or a diocese, no special problem presented itself. But today the organization of develop-ment has become a much more complex affair; it has assumed the dimensions of whole nations, of entire continents, of the planetary community itself. While such a task calls for specialists, the ordinary missionaries run the danger of no longer seeing and understanding the role they are called on to play in the task of de-velopment. They stand, then, in perplexity when faced with the contradictory opinions of theologians. If some theolo-gians insist on the irreplaceable character of the proc-lamation of God's word and of the sacramental ministry, missionaries taken up with the tasks of development be-cause of the demands of the situations in which they find themselves and the concrete needs they daily encounter are troubled by an uneasy conscience. If other theologians stress the primary role of development, then those mis-sionaries whose tasks are those which belong to the more + + + Developmem VOLUME 28, Z969 8?7 traditional patterns of the apostolate begin to question the value of what they are doing. It was in response to this perplexity that the superiors general of SEDOS held a mission theology symposium in Rome this past April. Theologians from Europe and other parts of the world were invited to tackle this prob-lem first among themselves, and second in open discus-sions with the generals and their staffs.~ This symposium's importance lies in the fact that it has brought before religious congregations the theologi-cal dimensions of development, while adding to the growing literature on tlfis subject. This hard confronta-tion with the realities of development is a hopeful sign of growth within the Church and religious institutes. And instead of standing before the reality with perplex-ity and bewilderment, religious institutes, with their sense of global dedication, ought to be in the vanguard of working out a new theology of development. This mission theology symposium should set the pace for all religious families of the church. It has been our intention in this paper to draw the attention of religious to the phenomenon of develop-ment so that it can become a growing part of the litera-ture on renewal and adaptation. As a contribution to this literature on renewal, we have pointed out four major trends we have noted over the past year in the field of development as they affect religious institutes. The contribution religious can make to development, we are convinced, is enormous. The single attempts being made here and there must spring into a massive effort that will engage religious in a venture that has taken the center stage of the Church. If development is the new word for peace, it is a new challenge to religious. ~ Preparations are being made for the publication of the pro-ceedings of this symposium in various languages. The English edi-tion will be published by Maryknoll Publications. Brothers More and R~an REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS JAMES A. CLARK Placing U. S. Personnel in Latin America Once a bishop or provincial decides to give manpower assistance to Latin America, he quickly discovers the dif-ficulties of attempting to find the wisest way to assign priests, brothers, or nuns to projects in Latin America. Since few authorities can agree on proper priorities for such placements, a superior is wise to recognize im-mediately that optimum, effective assignment of per-sonnel throughout Latin America represents an unat-tainable goal. In the past, assignment of American religious in the southern half of the hemisphere resulted from acciden-tal factors. The high ratio of Americans in Peru derived from the efforts of a zealous nuncio who welcomed them warmly. The large numbers of Americans in Guatemala result from a statistic that indicated that Guatemala had the worst proportion of priests to peo.ple of any Latin American country. Bewildered superiors anxious to respond to appeals of the Vatican to send missionaries to Latin America seized on this fact as a reason to send their subjects to Guatemala. Localized concentrations of Americans usually can be traced to a friendship begun at the Vatican Council between North and Latin Ameri-can Church leaders or through the bonds of a religious community existing in both halves of the hemisphere. The complexity of properly placing people in Latin America appears as a new problem because previously the allocating of workers to missionary lands did not require any accommodation with a structured Church in the foreign situation as is the case now in Latin America. One locale appeared as needy and worthwhile as another for apostolic laborers. The presence of a viable and strong Church in Latin America demands :extreme delicacy in interposing foreigners to serve that Church. Yet the need is so general and widespread in Latin America that from a spiritual point of view it has be- 4- ÷ James A. Clark is a staff member of the apostolic delegation at The Manor House in Rockcliffe Park; Oto tawa 2, Canada. VOLUME 28, 1969 879 come impossible for even the indigenous Church to ar-rive at a generally satisfactory set of realistic and valid preferences. Priorities which have aided in the distribution of financial grants are applicable in part to the appoint-ment of people even. though this latter commodity, people, raises mnch more profound questions since it is so much more precious and scarce in Latin America. This dilemma especially concerns diocesan priests be-cause the international 'religious communities already have a functioning system for distribution of their mem-bers. This arrangement, made under the auspices of the Holy See, has served for generations and enables provincials to provide staff for missionary areas without an agonizing analysis in each case. Those communities without Latin American branches and bishops entering the field for the first time find the subject distressingly difficult. The. Most Reverend Marcos McGrath, Second Vice- .President of the Bishops' Council for Latin America (GELAM), has encouraged even the religious communi-ties to refuse to cling to traditional apostolates and to become open to new forms of ministry: Priorities of needs in the churches of Latin America can be determined most effectively when undertaken by a national episcopal conference. Deciding who comes first is a difficult exercise in the spirit of collegiality because each bishop would like to see his diocese at the top of the list. But it is a necessary exercise and is of great assistance to those from abroad who want to know what the bishops as a whole think about the needs of their country. A listing of priorities may indeed be prepared, by a special committee named by the local bishops. Such an arrangement has been requested in some instances by various organizations of assistance. CELAM's continental sec-retariat of the Latin American bishops may indicate some gen-eral priorities of needs through its specialized departments. ÷ ÷ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Several complex plans have been proposed to resolve the problem of placement. The secretariat of the U.S. Bishops' Committee for Latin America once devised a coordinating committee of ten expert advisers to counsel bishops on the proper method of allocating personnel for Latin America. However since the ten could not agree among themselves on how to achieve best results the committee never met and the plan died. The secretariat received requests from most of the ecclesiastical jurisdictions in Latin America (more than 600) and circulated these to bishops and superiors of religious houses. However, no attempt to provide criteria for selecting one petition over another ever appeared. Standard policy urged superiors to.visit potential recipi- ¯ ent areas personally, a rather unrealistic suggestion for harried superiors already overstocked with requests for their manpower. Naturally, bishops prefer to retain jurisdiction over their priests. For this reason the concept of a military ordinariate type structure to recruit, train, and appoint personnel in Latin America failed to receive widespread acceptance, since experience .with military chaplains alerted bishops to the fear of losing control of their sub-jects for the major portion of their ministerial lives. Several prominent churchmen, support attempts to permit diocesan priests to serve in a religious community on the missions through a temporary connection with a religious order. Only diocesan priests who have lived for any length of time in the house of a religious society can foresee the difficulties of this plan. In spite of abundant good will on the part of all involved there is no escaping the feeling on the part of the secular priest that he is a "junior" or "non-incorporated" subject, without status and without the possibility of participation in decision making sessions. Likewise, this association causes the priest to lose identity both at home and abroad as a diocesan priest serving temporarily on the missions. The entry of diocesan priests with previous parish ex-perience into missionary areas revealed the value of these men over those who went directly to the missions upon ordination without any experience in a normal parish situation to use as a barometer for their missionary en-deavors. A diocese-to-diocese setup is not workable because one diocese in the States cannot properly provide for train-ing, support, leave time, illness, vacations, and so forth of overseas staff. Yet a method must be found which preserves the interest of the home diocese which usually provides the financial wherewithal enabling the Latin American mission to function. Other proposals include appointing men for a time to a national conference of bishaps in a given country, in-cardinating priests temporarily into a Latin American diocese, or assigning them to the U.S. Bishops' Com-mittee for Latin America, which, in conjunction with the U.S. and Latin American bishops involved, could arrange for training and distribution of priests. Two countries have established national offices to deal with this issue, and bishops assigning men to either Chile or Brazil need only refer to the national offices for ad-vice. Several methods of providing diocesan priests to Latin America have sprung up among the 76 dioceses involved in this effort. 24 dioceses merely permitted priests to go to Latin America. 17 assumed responsibility to support the volunteer priests during their term of Latin Ameri- 4- 4- 4- Latin America can service but they make no provisions for the assign-ment of these priests. 34 accept the task of supporting a parish or several parishes in Latin America. In Boston, Richard Cardinal Cushing founded in 1958 a society to bring these diocesan priests together. Currently this St. James (the Cardinal's middle name) Society counts slightly more than 100 members from 30 dioceses in the U.S. and several European countries. This corps pro-vides pastoral services to a half million people spread across Peru, Ecuador, and Bolivia. It represents the best vehicle currently available for sending diocesan priests to Latin America. A similar organization for pooling nuns going to Latin America received attention at an inter-American meeting of Bishops at Georgetown University in 1959 but has failed to be implemented. In attempting to establish priorities, the national conferences of Bishops in Latin America have proved to be a boon although usually the primatial archbishop in a country tends to see his own needs first and with good reason for he usually presides over the largest metropoli-tan portion of that country. But rural bishops complain about the criteria when they witness most foreign ar-rivals remaining in the capital city. Both CELAM and the Pontifical Commission for Latin America have sought to provide a solution in this sensitive area but without success, as most attempts at coordination cause disputes over the choice of one diocese over another as beneficiary of American clerics. Originally the Pontifical Commission offered the facili-ties of the nunciatures throughout Latin America as clearing houses, but a.fear of Roman control of the en-tire movement impelled both donor and petitioner dioceses to bypass quietly any Commission services. As a former nuncio in Panama, the late Archbishop Paul Bernier commented on this question during his tenure on the Canadian Bishops' Commission for Latin America: lames A. Clark REVIEW FOR'RELIGIOUS I think there is a strong feeling against forming a society of any kind. Most of the bishops, if I understand well, insist on having and keeping an effort of the secular clergy as such with no affiliation, neither to the diocese ad quam nor to any particular religious or semi-religious society but to keep all of them [the priests] incardinated in the diocese a qua. If they don't want to stay there for more than five years, or if for any other reason they cannot remain, they come back to their own diocese just as if they were never out of it. I think that in Canada at least the impression of the bishops would be rather contrary to affiliating or incorporating our diocesan ~nd secular priests to any particular society. Most bishops would be willing, however, to send according to their abilities one or two, five or ten priests, to some form of, not a society, but a responsible organization which in the last analysis would be in the hands of the Episcopal Committee for that. Whoever accepts responsibility for such appointments will have need of some priorities or guidelines since the priestly requirements of Latin America could not be fulfilled if every priest in. the United States went to Latin America. Some principles to follow in this area would include the following points. The i~rst choice to be made is a selection of a category of work for a religious volunteey, that is, shall I send my priest (or brother or sister) to work as a catechist, teacher, parish worker, or what? The departments of CELAM indicate the critical apostolates which normally will have first call on foreign services: education, medi-cine, social service, relief, charity, seminary/vocational work, catechetics, student/university apostolates, and service to laborers. Next the superior must choose a geographical classifi-cation, that is, shall I send him (her) to serve on the con-tinental level with CELAM, or on the regional or na-tional level with the conferences of bishops, or to the diocesan and local level. Foreigners often function best in posts removed from the intimate personal relation-ship of priest-to-parishioner which reqmres sensitive cul-tural perception. Usually their North American organi-zational talents achieve widest impact on a broader scale at the continental, regional, or diocesan levels. Also a decision must be made as to whether to send personnel to the rural or urban locations. Many Mary-knollers in Latin America have regretted the decision made many years ago to spread Society members across the mountain ranges. The impact of an individual is broader in the cities. On the other hand Cardinal Cush-ing says that the revolution in Latin America will be born in the mountains and the Church ought to be there. At one time it was thought preferable to assign North Americans to dioceses with North American bishops at the helm. This principle has been subsequently disre-garded since it leads to a danger of creating a church within a church, one foreign and one native. The monster parishes which have arisen in Latin America as a resuh of abundant American material and personnel aid have become a source of distress for Latin Americans and embarrassment for North Americans. Parish A flooded with American assistance can only re-flect poorly on parish B which is struggling along with local resources only. OccasionaIIy a choice arises between placing people in projects underwritten by private industry or govern-÷ ÷ ÷ Latin America VOLUM~ 28~ 1969 883 4- 4- REVIEW FOR,RELIGIOUS 884 ments, for example, a company hospital or a state nor-mal school. These opportunities sometimes permit the assure, ption of responsibilities which would otherwise be financially prohibitive; on the other hand, alliance with a government or industrial concern can be severely det-rimental to the Church image and impact. .One essential requirement demands that the project given help be integrated into the local church structure. For this reason each local request must be approved by the national conference of bishops to insure that it co-ordinates with the national pastoral plan. From the viewpoint of the candidate to be sent to Latin America, if he or she speaks one of the languages of Latin America or has studied or served in a particular country naturally it is logical to assign the person to that place. All attempts to satisfy reasonable personal preferences will reduce the inevitable cultural shock suffered by v, olunteers. A first principle of sending people into Latin America is that they be sent as members of a team effort and never individually. The ability of the subject offering his services will sometimes be the final determinant of assignment; a seminary professor will not serve best in a slum parish nor will a Trappist normally function well in a mass communications program. Due to the profound social division in Latin America there is a need to predetermine whether personnel are to be placed in projects serving the wealthy or the im-poverished. In the latter case a realistic plan for external financing will normally be required. Projects which provide some hope of eventual self-sufficiency in regard to their staffing needs should be selected rather than those which will require permanent foreign workers. Realistic approaches to provide new solutions to basic religious problems of Latin America deserve special con-sideration. For examples, the novel approach to slum parish work of Father Andres Godin, a Canadian Oblate, in Lima, Peru; or that of American Oblate Edmund Leising who has developed a remarkable program in Brazil for promoting parish self-support through Ameri-can fund raising procedures; or the renowned apostolate of Father Leo Mahon in San Miguelito parish in Pan-ama who has discovered an entirely new process for parish effectiveness. These offer novel and successful approaches to stubborn problems. Similar examples of projects managed by Latin American priests themselves could be cited. Most superiors have the background to recognize that adequate and detailed financial arrangements must be agreed upon in advance by both sides to prevent animos-ity from developing on obscure financial responsibilities. The overall plan an agency presents ought to be ex-amined carefully to learn if it is realistically conceived. Experience in Latin America reveals that ill.constructed, idealistic proposals soon collapse. Those of us familiar with the problem of positioning personnel in Latin America are aware of the difficulties superiors face in this field. Hopefully some of the above remarks will assist the ongoing dialogue in this area and be of some assistance to those who seek to serve the Church by releasing people for work on the only Catholic continent of the globe. + + ÷ Latin America VOLUME 28, 1969 885 JOSEPH F. GALLEN, S.J. Comments on tl e Instruction on Formation Joseph F. Gallen, S.J., writes from St. Joseph's Church; $21 Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Penn-sylvania 19106. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Prepostulancy Nothing is said in the Instruction on a prepostulancy period. Number 4 states that it would be worthwhile to consider whether the practice of going directly to the novitiate from such places as aspirancies, apostolic schools, or minor seminaries should be continued or whether an interval of probation should be had to develop the human and emotional maturity of the candidate. In the case of those obliged to a postulancy by canon 539, § 1, this development can be taken care of during the postulancy, which can last up to two years and also be made while residing outside any house of the in-stitute (n. 12). There is nothing in the Instruction for or against such places as aspirancies but, as is clear from what was said above, number 4 presumes that they will continue to exist. Postulancy (nn. 4; 10-2; 33) Importance. "Hence it follows that all institutes, even those that do not prescribe the postulancy, must at-tach great importance to this preparation for the novice-ship" (n. 4). Purpose. This is to judge the suitability and aptitude of the candidate; to give a preparation that will enable the noviceship to be made more fruitfully; to provide a gradual transition from secular to religious life; and to verify and complete, if necessary, the religious knowledge of the candidate (nn. 11-2). "Tentative" in number 11 of the Vatican English translation is not in the Latin text and "to formulate a. judgment" is to form a judgment. Power of general chapter. In institutes in which the postulancy is of obligation by common law (in insti-tutes of perpetual vows: all women but in those of men only lay brothers) or by the constitutions, the gen-eral chapter may keep in mind, for a better adaptation of the postulancy~ the following norms (n. 12): Duration. In institutes in which the postulancy is not obligatory by common or constitutional law, the general chapter may determine its nature and duration, which can vary for different candidates but should not be too brief nor ordinarily longer than two years. In institutes in which the postulancy is obligatory from common law, it must last at least six full months (c. 589, § I), and this minimum time is more probably retained in the Instruction; but the general chapters of these institutes may also follow the two-year limit, the principle that the time may vary for different candi-dates, and probably that the minimum time may be less than six months (n. 12). 1 do not think the right of canon 539, § 2, to prolong the postulancy for six months extends to a postulancy of two years. A postu-lancy longer than two years would not be very rea-sonable, especially since it can be varied within that time for the individual. Place. Preferably not in the novitiate house, and it can be profitable for it to be made wholly or in part outside a house of the institute (n. 12). The postulancy may therefore be so organized that the postulants con-tinue to reside in their homes or in such another place as a college. See also numbers 4 and 11. The latter speaks of a "gradual transition from lay life to that proper to the noviceship." Director. The postulants, wherever the postulancy is made, are to be under the direction of qualified re-ligious, between whom and the master of novices there is to be sedulous cooperation (n. 12). Dross. The determination of the dress of the postu-lants appertains to the general chapter (n. 33). How-ever, canon 540, § 2, had required simply that the dress of the postulants be modest and different from that of the novices. It could therefore have been secular but modest; special and uniform, but this was not neces-sary; religious, but different from that of the novices. Noviceship (nn. 4-5; 13-33) Maturity requisite Ior beginning noviceship (n. 4). The noviceship should begin when the candidate is aware of God's call and has reached that degree of human and spiritual maturity which will allow him to decide to respond to this call with sufficient and proper knowledge and responsibility: "Most of the difficulties encountered today in the formation of novices are usually due to the fact that when they were admitted they did not have the required maturity., it must ÷ ÷ ÷ Formation VOLUME 28, 1969 887 ÷ ÷ ÷ $. F. Gallen, S.l. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 888 be affirmed that the age required for admission to the noviceship should be higher than heretofore" (n. 4). Place. The noviceship for validity must be made in a house legitimately designated for this purpose (n. 15) by the superior general with the consent of his council and according to the constitutions (n. 16). The superior general with the consent of his council and after consultation with the interested provincial may in a case of necessity permit also many novitiates in the same province (n. 17). When the small number of novices is not sufficient to promote community life, the superior general should, if possible, establish the novitiate in a community of the institute capable of aiding the formation of such a small group of novices (n. 18). To better meet some demands of their formation, the superior general may authorize that the group of novices be transferred during certain periods to another house of the institute designated by himself (n. 16). In particular and exceptional cases, the superior gen-eral with the consent of his council may permit that a candidate validly make his noviceship in a house of the institute other than the novitiate house, under the direction of a qualified religious acting as a master of novices (n. 19). Duration. For validity the noviceship must last for twelve months (n. 21). A continuous or interrupted absence from the noviti-ate group and house that exceeds three months ren-ders the noviceship invalid (ft. 22). In lesser absences the higher superior, after consulting the novice master and considering the reason for the absence, may in individual cases command an extension of the noviceship and determine its length, and this matter may also be determined by the constitutions (n. 22). Formative activity periods outside the novitiate house must be added to the required twelve months, nor may they be begun before a novice has spent three months in the novitiate (if the contrary is done, the noviceship be-gins only on the completion of the formative activity period) and must be so arranged that the novice spends a minimum of six continuous months in the novitiate, re-turns there at least a month before the first vows or other temporary commitment, and the time of the whole novice-ship extended in this manner may not exceed two years (n. 24). The noviceship amplified by such formative activity periods may not exceed two years, but this does not abrogate the right given to higher superiors in canon 571, § 2, to prolong the noviceship up to six months in a doubt about the suitability of a candidate. Such a prolongation is permitted in a noviceship of two years without formative activity periods. A higher superior for a just cause may permit first profession or commitment to be anticipated but not beyond fifteen days (n. 26). Formative activity periods. The general chapter by at least a two-thirds vote may experimentally enact, in keeping with the nature of the institute, one or more periods of formative activity outside the novitiate house, the number to be determined in practice accord-ing to the judgment of the master of novices with the consent of the higher superior, for the formation of the novices or, in some cases, for a better judgment of their aptitude for the life of the institute. Such periods may be used for one, several, or the entire group of novices. If possible a novice should not be assigned alone to these periods. In these periods the novices are under the direction of the master of novices (nn. 23, 25). "It must be emphasized that this formative activ-ity, which complements novitiate teaching, is not in-tended to provide the novices with the technical or professional training required for certain apostolic ac-tivities, training which will be afforded to them later on, but rather to help them, in the very midst of these activities, to better discover the exigencies of their vocation as religious and how to remain.faithful to them" (n. 5; see also n. 25). Separation of novices. There must be some separation between the novices and the professed religious, with whom, however, and with other communities, the novices may have contact according to the judgment of the master of novices. It appertains to the general chapter to decide, according to the nature of the institute and particular circumstances, what contacts may be had between the novices and the professed of the institute (n. 28). The use of the term "professed re-ligious" in the second sentence makes it sufficiently clear that there is no prohibition of contact between the novices and the postulants, as might be feared from the word "members" in the other two sentences of number 28. Studies during the noviceship. The general chapter may permit or command certain studies during the nov-iceship for the better formation of the novices, but doctri-nal studies should be directed to the knowledge and love of God and to the development of a more profound life of faith. From the twelve months of noviceship of number 21 all studies, even theological and philosophi-cal, made for obtaining diplomas or for acquiring a formation directed to preparation for fulfilling future Formation VOLUME 28, 1969 889 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 890 duties are forbidden (n. 29). Provided doctrinal studies are directed to the spiritual life, as prescribed in the first sentence, it is probably not forbidden to receive credits for such studies when these can be had but the studies are not to be directed to the attaining of credits. There is no doubt that the prescription on doctrinal studies in this first sentence also applies only to the twelve months of noviceship of number 21, as is also true of the canonical legislation in canon 565, § 3, on this point, "even though the Latin text says "during the time of the noviceship," not "during the regular novitiate year," as in the English translation. The latter also has "all formal study programs" in the second paragraph whereas the Latin reads "all studies." Dress o] the novices. It appertains to the general chapter to determine the dress of the novices (n. 33). Number 33 speaks of the "habit of the novices and of other candidates for the religious life." It certainly had not been the practice nor is there any tendency to give a religious habit to postulants, and the meaning here of "habit" is "dress." No limitation is placed on the power of the general chapter to determine the dress of the novices and postulants. Canon 557 commands the wear-ing of the habit during the whole time of the noviceship, but it has also been maintained that the noviceship is an uncertain time and that the habit, to retain all its significance, should not be given to the novices. Noviceship lot another class. Unless the constitutions determine otherwise, a noviceship made for one class is valid for another (n. 27). The constitutions may de-termine the conditions regulating a transfer from one class to another (n. 27), Novice master. The novices are under the direction of the novice master who may seek the aid of other skilled helpers (n. 30). This is to be kept in mind with regard to a formation team. See also numbers 5, 12, 15, 23, 31, 32. Temporary Bond (nn. 2, 6-9; 34-8) A different temporary bond may be established and ]or all. Number 34 gives a faculty, not a precept, but in general language: "The General Chapter, by a two-thirds majority, may decide to replace temporary vows with some other kind of commitment as, for example, a promise made to the institute." The same general lan-guage is found in numbers 2, 6, 10, 24,' 37-8. The pos-sibility of the extension to all in the probation after the noviceship is not certainly excluded by other num-bers of the Instruction. A dil~erent bond should be introduced only a]ter most careful thought. The reasons are (1) number 34 demands a two-thirds vote of the general chapter to in-troduce a different bond and (2) number 7 explidtly re-quires such careful thought: "No institute should de-cide to use the faculty granted by this Instruction to replace temporary vows by some other form of commit-ment without having clearly perceived and weighed the reasons for and the nature of this change." A different bond in fairness, prudence, and proper regard [or sound spirituality should be introduced only [or those in whom the special immaturity exists. The reasons are (1) by vows a special consecration is had according to number 2: "Thus it is that religious pro-fession is an act of religion ~nd a special consecration whereby a person dedicates himself to God." (2) Be-cause according to number 7 temporary vows are com-pletely in harmony with the greater response to God so important at the beginning of the religious life and also enable the candidate to make the consecration proper to the religious state: "For him who has heeded the call of Jesus to leave everything to follow Him there can be no question of how important it is to respond generously and wholeheartedly to this call £rom the very outset of his religious life; the making of temporary vows is completely in harmony with this requirement. For, while still retaining its probationary character by the fact that it is temporary, the profession of first vows makes the young religious share in the consecration proper to the religious state." (3) Because immaturity is the sole reason given (n. 7) for substituting another temporary commitment: "In fact, more fre-quently now than in the past, a certain number [quidam] of young candidates come to the end of their novitiate without having acquired the religious ma-turity sufficient to bind themselves immediately by re-ligious vows, although no prudent doubt can be raised regarding their generosity or their authentic vocation to the religious state. This hesitancy in pronbuncing vows is frequently accompanied by a great awareness of the exigencies and the importance of the perpetual religious profession to which they aspire and wish to prepare themselves." (4) Possibly also because the desire for the different commitment was true only of some institutes (n. 7): "Thus it has seemed desirable in a certain num-ber o[ institutes that at the end of their noviceship the novices should be able to bind themselves by a temporary commitment different from vows, yet answering their twofold desire to give themselves to God and the institute and to pledge themselves to a fuller preparation for perpetual profession." Since the Instruction describes temporary vows as a consecration that is special, proper to the religious state, and in harmony with the greater ÷ ÷ ÷ VOLUME 28. 1969 89! + ÷ .~. Fo Gallen, $J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 89~> response to God, it at least seems unfair, imprudent, and without regard for sound spirituality to deprive a novice of temporary vows when he has all the quali-ties requisite for making them, that is, when he is not affected by the special immaturity described in number 7. ¯ Some observations on this immaturity. Is this im-maturity proper to the young or is it the emotionalism that is today found in many older religious, and which the young often manifest only after continuous contact with such older religious? Isn't there a movement at this moment in the United States to give the vote to those who are eighteen years of age because the young are now more politically mature? In more than thirty states it has been the law that a girl of eighteen may marry without the consent of her parents. Is there any widespread tendency at present to change this very general law because of the immaturity of the ~young? Don't some hold that the greater physical development of modern youth argues to a greater psychological de-velopment? Does one frequently and without indoctri-nation encounter a novice who is judged to have a certain religious vocation (see also c. 571, § 2) but is too immature to take temporary vows? What factual and ob-jective investigations were made in the United States to prove the existence of such immaturity? Isn't it true that such immaturity would occur with regard to the temporary vow of chastity, not of poverty or obedience? Prescinding now from the obligation of the different commitment, don't the commandments of God still bind such a candidate and under serious sin in a violation of chastity? The simplest and most appropriate different com-mitment would be a promise to the institute to observe poverty, chastity, and obedience because (1) neither the form nor the object of the different commitment is determined in the Instruction (see n. 34) but (2) in numbers 7 and 35 the Instruction at least says it is fitting that the dit~erent commitment should in some way refer to the exercise of the three evangelical counsels, for example in number 7: "Whatever form such a temporary commitment may take, it is in keeping, with fidelity to a genuine religious vocation that it should in some way be based on the requirements of the three evangelical counsels." and (3) more directly and even categorically in number 13 the Instruction apparently says that the novice is to make profession of the evangeli-cal counsels at the end of the noviceship by temporary vows or other temporary commitment: ".that a novice.may implement the evangelical counsels of chastity, poverty, and obedience, the profession of which 'either by vows or by other sacred bonds that are like vows in their purpose' he will later make." This number of the Instruction is talking of a novice and therefore o[ the first consecration, which can be either vows or another temporary commitment. There is no alternative for the profession of perpetual vows. Other forms and objects of commitment are possible. The form and object of members in the strict sense of secular institutes is: "By making profession before God of celibacy and perfect chastity, which shall be confirmed by vow, oath, or consecration binding in conscience, according to the constitutions; by a vow or promise of obedience.by a vow or promise of poverty." (Provida Mater Ecclesia, February 2, 1947, Art. III). Some of the different forms of commitments in societies of common life without public vows are annual private vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience and the service of the poor; private perpetual vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience; promise of fidelity to the observance of the rule and constitutions; perpetual promise of observ-ance of common life and poverty; perpetual agreement to obey the rule of the institute; perpetual oath of perseverance and obedience; and perpetual oath and promise of perseverance and obedience,x The societies of common life more £requently encountered are the Daughters of Charity of St. Vincent de Paul, Eudists, Josephites, Maryknoll Missionaries, Oratorians, Pallot-tine Fathers, Paulists, Precigus Blood Fathers, Sulpicians, Vincentians, and White Fathers. Is one who makes a di1~erent temporary commitment in a state of perfection, in the religious state, a re-ligious, and a member of his institute? This is at least a very basic question and with wide implications. The negative arguments are that the Instruction nowhere says that one who makes a different temporary commit-ment is a religious and that canon 488, 7°, demands public vows to constitute a religious. On the other hand (1) vows are required only by canon law, not by divine law or the nature of the matter,2 to constitute a re-ligious, and the Instruction derogates from this canon law, as will be seen from the following arguments: (2) number 36 states absolutely that the subject is united with his institute and absolutely that he is obliged to observe its law; (3) the Instruction throughout does not differentiate between such a commitment and temporary vows (see nn. 2, 6, 10, 24, 34, 37-8); (4) num-ber 10 states explicitly that the temporary commitment is not the noviceship. If an entirely new state were being 1 See also Beste, lntroductio in Codicem, 497; Guti~rrez, Gora-mentarium pro religiosis, 38 (1959), 312-3. =See Goyeneche, De religiosis, 10-11; Guti~rrez, op.cit., 29 (1050), 72-3. ÷ ÷ ÷ VOU, JME 25, 89~ REV;EW FOR RELIGIOUS introduced distinct from that of the noviceship and temporary vows, this should have been dearly stated in the Instruction. (5) The probationary periods can last for thirteen years. This seems in itself to be un-reasonable if the subject does not become a member of the institute until the end of such time. The professed of temporary vows are members by first profession. The present canon law does not permit a duration of tempo-rary vows longer than six years, and canon 642, § 2, likens a professed of six years of temporary vows to one of perpetual vows. (6) During this prolonged time the institute would not be held in the case of such a subject to the norms of dismissal for professed but could dismiss him almost in the manner of a novice, whereas the pro-fessed of temporary vows would have also a right of sus-pensive recourse against his dismissal. Nor would canon 643, § 2, on the charitable subsidy apply, nor canon 646 on an automatic dismissal. (7) There would be an evident distinction in the rights and obligations of these subjects and the professed of temporary vows even though both would be in the same factual state of proba-tion. It is true, as number 7 states, tl~at "the profesz sion of first vows., makes the candidate share in the consecration proper to the religious state." Such a consecration, however, is required only by canon or human law, which can therefore enact that other suitable forms of commitment would also constitute a candidate in the religious state and make him a re-ligious, as also because such a candidate is always des-tined for this proper consecration in perpetual profes-sion. Religious women are nuns and their institutes are religious orders even though no one in fact has solemn vows provided at least some are destined for solemn vows from the particular law of the institute. Public vows would also remain proper to the religious state and to religious institutes since they are not had either in societies of common life nor in secular institutes. I therefore believe that the subject in a different temporary commitment is in a state of perfection, in the religious state, is a religious, and a member of his institute, but the question should be authoritatively serried by the Holy See. In the contrary opinion, those in a different temporary commitment are in a state that is neither noviceship nor profession, one also for which we have no parallel, and consequently a state of deep obscurity at least juridically. Determination o~ details b) the general chapter (n. 36). In virtue of canon 543 only a higher superior is competent to admit to the noviceship and to any re-ligious profession. The same canon demands a vote of the council or chapter for admission to the novice- ship, first temporary, and perpetual professions. The gen-eral chapter should require the deliberative vote for admission to the first temporary commitment and pre-scribe for renewals and prolongation of. such a com-mitment the same vote as is enacted in the constitutions for these acts with regard to temporary profession. The same policy should be observed concerning the superior competent for permitting an anticipated renewal of the temporary commitment, for exclusion from renewal or from the profession of perpetual vows (c. 637), and for the vote of the council in this case. The superior general with at least the advice of his council should be given the faculty of consenting to the dissolution of the com-mitment by the subject, to so consent to the request of the subject at any time during a commitment, who can then be immediately admitted to temporary vows, and with the consent of his council from the institute. Reception of ment is not necessary because it (c. 1308, § 1), and the consent of to dismiss a subject the different commit-is not a public vow the institute was suf-ficiently given and expressed in the admission to the commitment or its renewal. The general chapter could prescribe reception since such a repeated consent of the institute is not contrary to common law. The formula of the vows will have to be changed for a different commitment, for example, a promise will be to the institute, not to God as is a vow. Even if the new com-mitment does not have obedience as its express object and is therefore not productive of another obligation of obedience, superiors, as the head of the institute or of its parts, possess at least the same authority that they have over a novice and, if the Holy See decides that a different commitment is on the same juridical level as temporary vows, they possess the same authority as over a professed but without the added title to exact obedi-ence from the vow (c. 501, § 1; 502). Ganons whose application is obscure. The applica-tion of the following canons to those in a different temporary commitment should also be decided by the Holy See: responsibility for debts, 536, §§ 2-3; canonical examination, 552; dowry, 547-51; making of cession and disposition regarding personal patrimony and a civilly valid will, 569; retreat before first profession, 571, § 3; profession of a novice in danger of death. Requisites for a valid profession, exclusive of recep-tion, the necessity of three years of temporary vows, and understanding the derogations regarding a valid novice-ship in the Instruction, 572; age for profession, 573; deliberative vote for first profession, 575, § 2; written declaration of profession, 576, § 2; no intervals between renewals or perpetual profession, 577, § 1; 575, § 1; ÷ ÷ Formation VOLUME 28, 1969 895 ~. F. Gallen, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 896 enjoyment of the same indulgences, privileges, spiritual favors, and suffrages, obligation of observing rules and constitutions, active and passive voice and computation of time for obtaining either, 578; illiceity and invalidity of acts contrary to the vows, 579. Acquisition of property by a professed of simple vows, change of cession and disposition, 580; renuncia-tion of personal patrimony, 581; 583, 1°; change of will, 583; 2°. Common obligations of clerics in canons 124-42, 592; obligation of common life, 594; obligation of wear-ing habit, 596; cloister, 597 ft.; religious duties, 595; right of exempt correspondence, 611; enjoyment of privileges of first order by nuns, 613, § 2; enjoyment of clerical privileges of canons 119-23, 614. Transfer to another religious institute or monastery, 632-5; 544, § 5; right of professed of temporary vows to leave at the end of a temporary profession, 637; ex-claustration, 638-9; effects of secularization, 640-3; compensation may not be sought for services given to the institute, 643, § 1; charitable subsidy, 643, § 2; laws on fugitives, 644, § 3; 645; 2386; automatic dismissal, 646; dismissal of a professed of temporary vows, 647-8; provisional return to secular life, 653. Six professed constitute a formal house, 488, 5°; precedence from first profession breaking a tie in elec-tions, 101, § 1, 1°; first profession as date of computing eligibility for office, 504; 559, §§ 1-2; prohibition of being members of third orders secular, 704; prohibi-tion of being a sponsor in baptism and confirmation, 766, 4°; 796, 3°; special jurisdiction necegsary for the confessions of religious women, 876; funerals of religious, 1221; 1124, 2°; permission for writings, 1386, § 1; punish-able for violations of common life, 2389. Obligation o[ observing the evangelical counsels. If the Holy See decides that a different temporary com-mitment is on the same juridical level as the profession of temporary vows, the evangelical counsels must be observed at least with the same obligation as the con-stitutions, no matter what be the object of the different temporary commitment because (1) not only does num-ber 36 impose after the new commitment "the obliga-tion of observing the Rule, constitutions and other regulations of the institute" and therefore a fortiori also the obligation of observing the evangelical coun-sels as more essential and important for a state of complete Christian perfection but also and more pro-foundly because (2) the observance of the evangelical counsels is necessary from the nature of a state of per-fection, as can be seen from the following direct and clear statements of only three Popes and Vatican II: "The religious orders, as everyone knows, have their origin and raison d'etre in those sublime evangelical counsels, of which our divine Redeemer spoke, for the course of all time, to those who desire to attain Christian perfection" (Leo XIII, December 23, 1900). "When the only-begotten Son of God came into the world to re-deem the human race, he gave the precepts of spiritual life by which all men were to be directed to their appointed end; in addition, he taught that all those who wished to follow more closely in His footsteps should embrace and follow the evangelical counsels" (Pius XI, March 19, 1924). "It is true that by the apostolic constitution Provida Mater Ecclesia we declared that the form of life, which is followed by secular institutes, is also to be accepted as a state of perfection publicly recognized, because the members are bound in some way to the observance of the evangelical counsels" (Pius XII, July 13, 1952).3 Vatican II affirmed: "Thus, although the religious state constituted by the profession of the evangelical counsels does not belong to the hierarchical structure of the Church, nevertheless it belongs in-separably to her life and holiness." 4 Moral obligation of a new temporary commitment. It might seem that a general chapter could also completely determine this (see n. 36), but number 34 gives a promise to the institute as an example of such a com-mitment. We are to presume words in such a document are being used in their proper sense, and in such a sense a promise produces a moral obligation. In a merely private promise to God or man, the one making the promise can oblige himself only to a light obliga-tion in light matter but in serious matter he can assume either a light or a grave obligation. May a general chapter, therefore, define the moral obligation of the new temporary commitment, for example, a promise to the institute, as only light? It could do so if it is decided by the Holy See that such a commitment is not on the same juridical level as temporary vows. Could it do so if the level is the same? Such a definition is not excluded by the nature of a commitment or promise purely in itself nor by the explicit wording of the Instruction. The light obligation can also be urged from the reason for permitting a different commitment, that is, the immaturity of a candidate. It would not 8Courtois, The States of Perfection, Dublin: 1961, M. H. Gill and Son, nn. 33, 130, 403, 474; see also Schaefer, De religiosis, n. 125; Beste, op.cit., 328; Padri Claretdani, II diritto dei religiosi, n. 3; Fanfani, II diritto delle religiose, n. 2; Bastien, Directoire canonique, nn. 9, 14; Creusen, Religious Men and Women in Church Law, nn. 4-5; Guti~rrez, ibid., 63-4, 67. ' Abbott-Gallagher, The Document~ of Vatican II, 75. 4" 4" 4" Formation VOLUME 28, 1969 89~ ]. F. Gallen, $.$. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS seem very practical to enact that such a candidate does not have to take the added serious obligation of a re-ligious vow if he must assume the added serious obli-gation of another form of commitment. On the opposite side it can be well maintained from the nature of the matter that it would be incongruous for the funda-mental obligations of a permanent state of life to be only light. Above all there is a reply given by the Sacred Congregation of Religious, May 19, 1949, in an entirely parallel case and in general language to the effect that the bonds assumed by the members of secular insti-tutes cannot be light in their general nature.~ The pur-pose and nature of secular institutes are given as the reason for this doctrine. A secular institute is an apos-tolic state of complete Christian perfection, and the reasoning of the Sacred Congregation appears to me to apply, at least equally, if not afortiori, to religious in-stitutes. In effect this would mean, in the promise we have advocated to the institute to observe poverty, chastity, and obedience, the same light or serious obliga-tion that is had in the religious vows. The document reads: 1. The obligations which are contracted by members in the strict sense (Art. III, §§ £ and 3) for the full pursuit of the juridical state of perfection in secular institutes (Art. III, § 2), if they are to correspond to the purpose and nature of the institute, cannot be light in their general nature and under every respect (ex genere suo atque ex omni parte). 2. On the other hand, the bonds on which this state of perfection rests, are considered so to oblige in conscience that the obligations thus produced must be called grave in their general nature (ex genere suo). 3. In individual cases, an obligation must be considered grave only when its matter must be considered as certainly grave according to the constitutions and the common teaching regarding equal or similar bonds. Moreov,er, according to the well-known rule of law (Reg. 30 in VI°), 'In obscure matters, one is obliged to Iollow only the least obligation," it cannot be affirmed in a doubtful case that an obligation is grave or more grave, for example, on the ground that an obligation arises from or is reinforced by the formal virtue of religion. 4. Just what is the nature of the bonds assumed in individual institutes and what is the precise mode of obligation---e.g., in addition to justice and fidelity, is there also and, if so, to what degree, an obligation from the virtue of religion--must be learned from the constitutions, which should give an accurate presentation of the matter, and from the formula of consecra-tion or incorporation in which the bonds are expressed. 5. Even when it is certain that there is a formal obligation arising from the virtue of religion, since there is question of vows or bonds which, although they are not fully private, nevertheless, in law, cannot be called public in the strict and specific sense and do not effect a public consecration of the' "Bouscaren-O'Connor, Canon Law Digest /or Religious, 167-8; see also Commentarium pro religiosis, 28 (1949): Larraona, 199-200; Fuertes, 292-8. person, the malice of sacrilege must not be attributed to their violation. Duration oI probation after the noviceship. The gen-eral chapter is to determine this but it is to be no less than three nor longer than nine years (n. 37). I find it difficult to see why a period longer than five years should be generally prescribed (n. 6). The total possible probationary period, that is, 2 years of postulancy, 2 of noviceship, and 9 of temporary commitment, can thus be 13 years. This would ordinarily mean perpetual profes-sion at the youngest only at the age of 30 or 31 years. Would we advise marriage only at 30 or 317 The gen-eral chapter may permit a prolongation in individual cases of a prescribed time, e.g., five years, up to the full nine years or may limit the power of prolonging, e.g., to only one year (n. 37). Precise length of dil~erent commitment. This may be made in the one act for the full length of the interval before perpetual profession, for example, five years; or for a briefer period, for example, three years, to be re-newed for two years on its expiration or to be followed by temporary vows (n. 34). The provision of canon 577, § 2, of permitting a renewal of temporary vows to be an-ticipated but not by more than a month may be also applied to the renewal of a different form of temporary commitment. Such an anticipation is permissible £rom the nature of a commitment and is not excluded by the Instruction. Must also a di~erent temporary commitment be ac-companied by the intention of renewing and of admit-ting to a renewal on its expiration? If the decision of the Holy See is that the juridical level of temporary vows and other temporary commitments is the same, the answer is in the affirmative. The explanation of the necessity of this intention in temporary vows has been the following. The religious life has ever and now de-mands stability or permanence. From its concept it is a state of life in the same way as the clerical or married state. A state of life is something that contains the note of stability or permanence. The exact permanence re-quired is defined by the Church as follows: solemn vows or simple perpetual vows are sufficient but not neces-sary; the minimum requisite is simple temporary vows. Therefore, an institute in which all the members make only annual professions of poverty, chastity, and obedi-ence fulfills this requisite. The Church further requires that temporary vows be renewed on their expiration (c. 488, 1°). This implies an intention on the part of both the religious making temporary profession and the superior admitting to this profession that, iI no obstacle ÷ ÷ ÷ Formation VOLUME 28, 1969 899 ]. F. Gallery, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 900 occurs in the meantime, the vows will be renewed on their expiration. It is evident that the same necessity of this intention and its explanation apply to a different temporary commitment since the necessity of the inten-tion is required not from vows as such but from the fact that the religious state is 'a state of life and demands stability.6 Lastly, such an intention is required in secular institutes, in which the bond can be vow, oath, consecra-tion, or promise: "The bond by which the secular insti-tute and its members in the strict sense are to be united must be: 1o Stable, according to the constitutions, either perpetual or temporary but to be renewed at its expira-tion (c. 488, 1°) . ,, 7 ConIusion on temporary vows. Tkis is the appropriate place to mention the extensive confusion that has existed on temporary vows in this whole matter of a different commitment. Many talked as if a temporary vow were a most unusual and even a contradictory thing. Evidently they did not know that temporary vows were mentioned in canon law (c. 131.1) as also in practically any manual of moral theology and in canonical works that included the treatment of the vows. It was also frequently stated that the intention of renewing and of admitting to renewal on their expiration was a contra-diction of the temporary duration of such vows. This again was ignorance. The intention was not and could not have been absolute, which would have been clearly contrary to the probationary nature of the period of temporary vows. It was a conditional intention to renew the vows i[ no obstacle intervened in the meantime, S and this obstacle, if not always, would practically always have been the discovery by the institute or the subject that he or she had no vocation. There was almost an equal number of statements that a temporary profession was invalid if at the time a religious had the intention of not renewing or a superior of not admitting to a renewal on the expiration of a temporary profession. Canon 572 does not list such an intention among the requisites for a valid religious profession. Canon 488, 1°, does not append an invalidating clause to the necessity of this intention as required by canon 11. A requirement for liceity only will also sufficiently fulfill the required stability. An invalidating law according to canon 15 does not exist in a doubt of law, and there is certainly a doubt o See Larraona, op. cit., 2 (1921), 137, 209; 28 (1949), 205; Schaefer, op.ciL, n. 128; Jone, Commentarium in Codicem iuris canonici, I, 387; Padri Clarettiani, op.cit., nn. 3, 6; Vermeersch-Creusen, Epitome iuris canonici, I, n. 580; Goyeneche, op.cit., 9-10; De Carlo, Jus religiosorum, n. 2. ~ Provida Mater Ecclesia, Bouscaren-O'Connor, op.cit., 151. aSee Larraona, op.cit.o 2 (1921), 209 and note 81; 28 (1949)~ 205; Guti~rrez, ibid., 90. of law in the present caseP There was also a great deal of talk merely about promises, as if a vow were not a promise. Nor was there too much knowledge of sanctity of life and of the relation of the evangelical counsels and of vows to this sanctity. Sacred orders may not be conferred belore perpetual profession (n. 37; c. 964, 4°). For a just reason a higher superior may permit that a first profession be made outside the novitiate house (n. 20). The Instruction does not mention the commitment presumably because it is held that the prescription on place of canon 574, §1 applies only to vows. Readmission of one who legitimately left either after completing temporary vows or other commitment or a[ter being [reed from either. He may be readmitted by the superior general with the consent of his council, who is not obliged to prescribe another noviceship, nor an-other postulancy (c. 640, § 2), but is obliged to enjoin a previous period of probation and also a period of tem-porary vows or other commitment not less than a year nor less than the time that remained to be spent in this temporary probation before perpetual profession when the subject left. The superior general may prescribe a longer period of temporary vows or other commitment (n. 38). Immediate preparation for perpetual proIession and similar periods during tbmporary vows or other commit-ment. It is desirable that perpetual profession should be preceded by a sufficiently long immediate preparation something in the manner of a second noviceship. The duration and other aspects are to be determined by the general chapter (nn. 9, 35). It is also desirable that periods of withdrawing to prayer, meditation, and study be established during the time of temporary vows or other commitment (n. 25). Section IlL Application of the special norms. The par-ticular provisions axe called norms because they have been enacted for experimentation (VII). They are in effect from January 6, 1969 (VII). The norms and direc-tives of the Instruction appertain only to religious in-stitutes; other institutes of common life may but are not obliged to follow them (n. 3). Common law (canon law, laws enacted after the Code of Canon Law, laws of Vatican II, and postconciliar laws) remains in effect un-less derogated by this Instruction (I). The faculties granted by this Instruction may in no way be delegated g See Schaefer, op.cit., n. 128; Jone, op.cit., 387; Guti~rrez, ibid., note 65; Vermeersch, Periodica, 31 (1932), 122 ft.; Goyeneche, Corn. mentarium tyro religiosis, 16 (1935), 315-6; Vidal, De religiosis, n. 9, holds for invalidity. 4- 4- ÷ VOLUME 901 ~. F. Gallen, $.]. 902 to another (II), but they may be used by those who legiti-mately take the place of the superior general when there is no superior general or he is legitimately prevented from acting (IV). The same principle is true of the vicars of other higher superiors since they are actually exercising the office of the higher superior when accord-ing to the constitutions they take the place of a higher superior, such as a provincial, in the vacancy of the office, in his absence, or when he is otherwise impeded from fulfilling the duties of his office. There is nothing of such importance in the faculties granted in the Instruc-tion to higher superiors that would merit the exclusion of vicars from the exercise of such faculties. An abbot at the head of a monastic congregation is also to be understood under the name of superior general in this Instruction (III). In the case of nuns dedicated exclu-sively to the contemplative life, special norms shall be inserted into the constitutions and submitted for ap-proval, but the norms in numbers 22, 26-7 may be ap-plied to them (V). I[ the special general chapter has already been held, the superior general and his council acting collegially,x° after a careful study of all circumstances, are to decide whether a general chapter should be convoked to deliber-ate on the faculties granted to it or whether it would be preferable to await the next general chapter (VI). If they decide against the above convocation but also that the use of the faculties granted to the general chapter is urgent for the good of the institute, they, again acting collegially, have the power of putting all or some of the same faculties in use until the next gen-eral chapter provided they have previously consulted all other higher superiors and their councils and have ob-tained their two-thirds affirmative vote. These other higher superiors should have it at heart to consult previ-ously the professed of perpetual vows. In institutes with no provinces, the superior general must consult the l~rofessed of perpetual vows and obtain the affirmative vote of two-thirds OgI). The following appertain to the general chapter: with a two-thirds vote: to introduce periods of formative ac-tivity in the noviceship (n. 23) and a different tempo-rary commitment (n. 34); with the vote prescribed by the constitutions: to make determinations for the pos-tulancy (n. 12); to decide on the permissible contacts of the novices (n. 28); to permit or command studies during the noviceship (n. 29); to determine the dress of the novices and other candidates (n. 33); to determine the duration of the probation between the noviceship See REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, 19 (1960), 131-2. and perpetual profession and other aspects of the same probation (nn. 35-6-7); and experimentally to enact other matters that imply a change in the constitutions, for example, in numbers 16, 22, and 27. The following appertain to the superior general: with the consent of his council: the institution of a novitiate (n. 16) and of many novitiates in the same province, having consulted the interested provincial (n. 17); the making of the noviceship in a house that is not a noviti-ate house (n. 19); the readmission of one who legiti-mately left either after completing temporary vows or other commitment or after being freed from either (n. 38); alone: to permit the group of novices to reside for a time in another house designated by him (n. 16); to per-mit a small group of novices to make their noviceship in a house more suitable for community life (n. 18); with the council acting collegially: to decide on the calling of a general chapter to implement the Instruction or to permit, without a general chapter, the use of the facul-ties granted in the Instruction, after consulting all other higher superiors and their councils and having obtained the affirmative vote of two-thirds of them or of the pro-fessed of perpetual vows when the institute does not have provinces (VI). The following appertain to higher superiors: alone: to permit first profession outside the novitiate house (n: 20); to permit that first profession be anticipated but not beyond fifteen days (n. 26); after consulting the master of novices: to decide on a supplying of absence of a novice of less than three months (n. 22); and it is rec-ommended that higher superiors below the superior general previously consult the professed of perpetual vows on the use of faculties of the Instruction without having a general chapter (VI). Spiritual principles of the Instruction. In the intro-duction to the Instruction, the Sacred Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes stated that the reason Vatican II gave no small measure of attention to reli-gious was that the Church might have a greater abun-dance of spiritual strength and be better prepared to proclaim the message of salvation to the men of our age; quoted Lumen gentium, numbers 44-5, to the effect that the state of the evangelical counsels appertains to the sanctity of the Church and that the practice of these counsels is uniquely effective for the perfection of the love of God and of the neighbor; spoke of the duty of religious institutes to renew their spiritual, evangelical, and apostolic lives; recalled that no loss was to be per-mitted in the basic values of the religious life; and de-clared the necessity of defining again the principal as-pects of this life. Formation VO'LUME 28, 1969 9O3 I. F. Ga//en,~$.l. REVIEW FOR REI.~G~OU$ 90; In the first section, which treats of principles and criteria, the Sacred Congregation reaffirmed that pro-fession of the evangelical counsels is a total consecration of one's person to God; that both from the teaching of the Church and the nature of this consecration the vow of obedience appertains to the essence of religious pro-fession; that by this consecration the religious exercises the perfection of apostolic charity, even though the apostolate is not the primary purpose of religious pro-fession; and that it may not be said that the nature of religious profession is to be changed or its proper de-mands lessened. The Sacred Congregation stated that the noviceship retains its irreplaceable role in formation; that novices are to be taught the cohesive unity that should link contemplation and apostolic activity; and that this unity is one of the fundamental and primary values of apostolic institutes. The achievement of this unity requires a~proper un-derstanding of the realities of the supernatural life and of the paths leading to a deepening of union with God in the unity of the one supernatural love for God and for man, finding expression at times in the solitude of inti-mate communing with the Lord and at others in the generous giving of self to apostolic activity. Young reli-gious must be taught that this unity, so eagerly sought and toward which all life tends in order to find its full development, cannot be attained on the level of activity alone, or even be psychologically experienced, for it resides in that divine love which is the bond of perfec-tion and which surpasses all understanding. The attainment of this unity, which cannot be achieved without long exercise of self-denial or without persevering efforts toward purity of intention in action, demands in those institutes faithful compliance with the law inherent in the spiritual life itself, which con-sists in arranging a proper balance of periods set aside for solitude with God and others devoted to various activities and to the human contacts which these in-volve (n. 5). The Sacred Congregation maintained that suitable maturity was required that the religious state be a means of perfection and not a burden too heavy to carry, as also the desirability that the perpetual con-secration to God of perpetual vows be preceded by a sufficiently long immediate preparation spent in recol-lection and prayer that could be like a second novice-ship. The second section of the Instruction is on special or particular norms and contains the following spiritual ideas and principles. The novices are to develop that union with Christ which is to be the source of all their apostolic activity; conformably to the teaching of our Lord in the gospel, the formation of the noviceship con-sists especially in initiating the novices gradually into detachment from everything not connected with the kingdom of God; that they learn to practice humility, obedience, poverty, to be instant in prayer, to maintain union with God, along with a soul receptive to the inspirations of the Holy Spirit, and to be mutually and spiritually helpful to one another in a sincere and un-feigned charity; they are to study and meditate on Holy Scripture; to be formed in the spiritual doctrine and practice required for the development of a supernatural life, union with God, and the understanding of the re-ligious state; they are to be initiated into the liturgical life and the spiritual discipline proper to their own in-stitute; they are to be given the occasions for striving to preserve faithful union with God in the active life; for the novices there is to be a balancing of periods of ac-tivity and of those given to recollection in prayer, medi-tation, and study to stimulate them to remain faithful to it throughout life, and a similar balancing is desirable during the years of formation before perpetual profes-sion. The Instruction reaffirmed the principle of the spiritual life and of Perfectae caritatis, number 8, that apostolic activity must have its source in intimate union with Christ and that therefore all the members should seek God only and above all, and unite contemplation by which they adhere to Him in mind and heart with apostolic love, in which they are associated with the work of redemption and strive to spread the kingdom of God; that novices are likewise to be formed in purity of intention and love for God and man; to learn to use this world as if they did not use it; realize that devotion to God and man demands a humble control of self; culti-vate the necessary human and spiritual balancing of the times given to the apostolate and the service of men and of the properly prolonged periods, in solitude or in com-munity, dedicated to prayer and to the meditative read-ing of the Sacred Scriptures. By fidelity to this most necessary and important program in all such institutes, the novices will gradually develop a peaceful union with God, which comes from conformity to the will of God. They must learn to discern the divine inspirations in the duties of their state, especially those of justice and charity. A mutual confidence, docility, and openness are to be fostered between superiors, the master of novices, and the novices that the master may be able to direct the generosity of the novices to a complete gift of themselves to God and lead them gradually to discern in the mys-tery of Christ crucified the demands of true religious + + + Formation VOLUME 28, 1969 905 obedience, and in this manner inspire them to an active and responsible obedience. The Instruction affirms with sufficient emphasis that the religious s~ate is different from secular institutes and from the state of the laity. ~. F. Gall~, $.1. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS SISTER MARY PATRICIA NORTON A New Form Community oJ Religious Government The custom that has been traditionally followed in women's religious communities of focusing all authority, responsibility, and decision-making in one person at the local, regional, and generalate level has, we believe, been a custom that grew up as a result of historical circumstances. When some of the original women's re-ligious communities were founded, there was a com-paratively small number of the members that were well educated. There has, of course, always been a local, regional, and general council to assist and advise the superior; but in actual practice the superior has gen-erally led an overburdened existence, weighed down by the responsibility of major decisions. Since the founding of the early communities, the pic-ture has changed dramatically. The rank and file sisters are no longer uneducated followers. Vatican Council II has told us that the Holy Spirit breathes up ~rom below, that is, He speaks and points out the way through the person of each and every member of the community. In the summer of 1967, the 48 Maryknoll Sisters working in Korea, considering the problems of the past, the directions of the future, and the urgings of Vatican Council II (that "all members of the community have a share in the welfare of the whole community and a responsibility for it"--~om the Decree on Ap-propriate Renewal o[ Religious Life, n. 14), began to draw up a new plan for regional government. This plan was to provide for sharing more broadly the burdens of responsibility, participation of every member in the decision-making and planning of community affairs, and to foster in each member a mature spirit of initiative and involvement. The experiment is at present under way with three elected members now jointly sharing the responsibilities that had previously belonged to the regional superior. 4, 4, Siste~ Patricia Norton is missioned at the Maryknoll Hospital; P.O. Box 77; Pusan, Korea. VOLUME 28, 1969 907 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOU$ (Note: The work of the Maryknoll Sisters in Korea is designated as a regional unit.) No one of these is superior to the others in authority or responsibility. Each one is responsible in the area that has been allotted to her: Personnel, Administration-finance, and Planning-research respectively. These three sisters are known as the Regional Team. Although each one has her area of responsibility, she does not bear this burden alone. Each of these team members has a corresponding committee of 4 regular members and one alternate member. Each committee meets once a month and the results of these meetings constitute the agenda for the meeting of the Regional Team (the three team leaders). The Regional Team also aims at meeting monthly as high priority has been placed on the value of close and frequent communications. It is felt that real participation of each and every mem-ber of the region is dependent on the thoroughness of these communications. In addition to the monthly meetings of both team and committees, good communications are fostered by availa-bility of the minutes of the Regional Team, of each of the three committees, and the publication of the agenda before each meeting. With the publishing of the agenda, each sister is invited to respond with her ideas, sugges-tions, objections, and so forth to any item on the agenda. This is one technique to insure participation by every individual. Furthermore, all those sisters who are neither mem-bers of the team nor of one of the committees become members of an interest area. The latter means that the sister has indicated her interest in one of the areas, follows the activities of that committee in par-ticular, and is ready at any time to fully participate. The Maryknoll Sisters are divided among six houses in Korea. In the event that one of these houses does not have a particular committee member, one of the in-terest area members acts as contact person for that house. Planning for this experiment began in early Fall of 1967. It was formally inaugurated at a regionwide work-shop in October of that year. Since that time it has undergone several evaluations resulting in both minor and major changes. What so far have been the advantages and disad-vantages in regard to this experiment? Some of the disadvantages: ---outsiders who have contacts with the Maryknoll Sisters do not understand it; --it is expensive (train travel and postage) and time consuming; ---it deprives the other sisters of that leisure they used to have while the superior did all the work. Some of the advantages: --it takes the heavy, burden from the shoulders of one person and spreads it" out over the shoulders of all; --it provides for the utilization of the ideas, inspira-tions, and talents of each person rather than just two or three; --it provides for decisions to be made at the level at which they are carried out; --it helps to uncover and develop leadership qualities in a wider spectrum O[ persons; ---it allows for a more truly Christian li[e [or each sister as a completely participating person, con-scious of her own role of responsibility for the success or failure of Maryknoll works in Korea; ---it cuts down dissatisfaction and provides a channel for rectifying any dissatis[actions that may occur. The comment was made by one observer: "It deprives the religious of that necessary sacrifice involved in obedience to a superior." Those who have been living ¯ this experiment would strongly differ. Obedience is not a vanished thing. It is merely the focus that has changed. Decisions are made through group-to-group or individ-ual- to-group dialogue and the individual remains open and ready to obey the results of this dialogue. It is now two years since the initial idea for this type of government was discussed. Since that time there have been many pros and cons, many wrinkles to be ironed out. It has been said by informed sources that such an arrangement Without ultimate responsibility resting in one person can never be a success. The Maryknoll Sisters are willing to concede that this may be true. But they are not willing to concede without an earnest trial. ÷ ÷ ÷ VOLUME 28, 1969 9O9 WILLIAM A. HINNEBUSCH, O.P. Origins and Development oJ Religious Orders William A. Hin-nebusch, O.P., teaches ecclesiastical history at the Do-minican House of Studies; 487 Michi-gan Avenue, Waahington, D.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 910 An# attentive study of the origins and history of reli-gious orders reveals that there are two primary currents in religious life--contemplative and apostolic. Vatican II gave clear expression to this fact when it called on the members of every community to "combine contem-plation with apostolic love." It went on to say: "By the former they adhere to God in mind and heart; by the latter they strive to associate themselves with the work of redemption and to spread the Kingdom of God" (PC, 5). The orders1 founded before the 16th century, with the possible exception of the military orders, recognized clearly the contemplative element in their lives. Many of them, however, gave minimum recognition to the apos-tolic element, if we use the word "apostolic" in its pres-ent- day meaning, but not if we understand it as they did. In their thinking, the religious life was the Apos-tolic life. It reproduced and perpetuated the way of living learned by the Apostles from Christ and taught by them to the primitive Church of Jerusalem. Since it was lived by the "Twelve," the Apostolic life included preaching and the other works of the ministry. The pas-sage describing the choice of the seven deacons in the Acts of the Apostles clearly delineates the double ele-ment in the Apostolic life and underlines the contem-plative spirit of the Apostles. The deacons were to wait on tables; the Apostles were to be free to devote them-selves "to prayer and the ministry of the word" (Acts 6:~4~). ¯ This is the text of an address given to the annual meeting of United States major superiors of men religious held in June, 1968, at Mundelein, Illinois. x I use the words, "order," "monasticism," and their derivatives in a wide sense to include all forms of the religious life. In its strict sense "monasticism" applies only to the monks and does not extend to the friars and the clerks regular. There were, however, exceptions to the general rule that monks did not engage in the ministry. An Eastern current of monasticism, influenced by John Chrysostom, viewed missionary work as a legitimate activity of the monk; and, as we shall see, many Western monks shared this conviction. Nevertheless, missionary activity did not become an integral part of monasticism. Even after most monks became priests, they considered their vocation to lie within the monastery where they could contemplate and dedicate themselves to the service of God. Since the clergy did not embrace the religious life, with the ex-ception of those of Eusebius of Vercelli and Augustine of Hippo, the ministerial element remained generally absent from the religious life until the development of the canons regular. In itself the life of the monks was exclusively contemplative. "Tradition assigns no other end to the life of a monk than to 'seek God' or 'to live for God alone,' an ideal that can be attained only by life of penance and .prayer. The first and fundamental manifestation of such a vocation is a real separation from the world." Yet in the thinking of the monks and of the friars, who integrated apostolic activity into the religious life, their prayer, contemplation, and example were mighty forces working for the upbuilding of the Body of Christ. Foundation o[ Monasticism Though other Scriptural elements contributed to the origin of monasticism, the concept of the Apostolic life was the decisive force. This truth has been demon-strated by historians who have been studying this point for over half a century; it has recently been dis-cussed scripturally by Heinz Schiirmann, professor of New Testament exegesis at Erfurt. The historians show how the life of the Apostles and the primitive Christians influenced the origins and growth of monasticism; Schiirmann makes clear that the constitutive elements of the religious life were taught to and demanded of the Apostles by Christ. Religious life is rooted in the key Biblical texts that record the calling and formation of the Apostles. These passages determine the character of the Apostolic office and the relationship of the Apostles to Jesus. They are to be with Him, listen to Him, and follow Him. His call is rigorous and imperious. He demands commitment without reserve. Negatively, this requires a complete break with one's previous life: family, wife, home, and oc-cupation; positively, it establishes the Apostles in a state of total availability. Abandoning their possessions, their means of livelihood and, like the lily and raven, trusting completely in divine providence, they follow Christ, + ÷ ÷ Religious Orders VOLUME 28, 1969 9]] W. A. Hinnebusch, 0~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 912 putting themselves in a student-teacher, servant-master relationship to Him. All .the features of their new life with Him are already conveyed in brief in Mark's ac-count of their call: And going up a mountain, he called to him men of his own choosing, and they came to him. And he appointed twelve that they might be with him and that he might send them forth to preach (3:13-5). In this text, too, we find the first s~atement of the contemplative and apostolic elements that reappear in the religious life. They are "to be with him." Here is the contemplative element. They are "with him," devoting themselves to the "one thing necessary"--listening to His word. Yet in hearing and learning .they are made ready so "that he might send them forth to preach." As Schiirmann summarizes it: First they hear and learn, then they teach and act: "Preaching isonly one part of their life and its follows from the other." The Apostles enter irrevocably into a community of life with Jesus. They share His life and destiny: eat with Him, walk the dusty roads with Him, serve the people with Him, undergo His trials, conflicts, persecu-tions. They must be ready to hate and even to lose their lives for His sake. He wants total obedience, one based on their "faith in Him who calls and proposes the word of God in an entirely unique fashion. Their following of Christ becomes understandable only as a permanent state of profession of faith., fit] opens up a new pos-sibility of existence, a new manner of being-in-the-world, a new 'state' of life." Though the Apostles take no vows, their life is that of the three counsels. Christ imposes no greater moral de-mands on them than on all the other believers, but they alone live this close community life with Him. Not all who declare for Christ are chosen by Him to follow Him in this intimate, permanent way. Obviously Mary, Martha, and Lazarus do not. Others asked to be ad-mitted into the group of disciples but were not accepted. Mark (5:18-19) describes one case: As Jesus was getting into the boat, the man who had been afflicted by the devil began to entreat him that he might re-main with him. And he did not allow him, but said to him, "Go home to thy relatives, and tell them all that the Lord has done for thee, and how he has had mercy on thee." (See also Mt 11:28, Mk 3:35, Lk 12:8-9, 10:38-42, 9:61-2.) Being with Christ constantly, hearing His word, com-pletely obedient to His wishes, separated from family, home, and occupation, the Apostles enter a new form of existence that signifies. The prime purpose of their spe-cialized following is to declare themselves openly for Him, so that all might come to believe in Him. In a strikingly visible way their intimate following pro-claims to the Jewish world that the one thing necessary is to hear the word of Christ and to keep it. Their visi-ble, stable following becomes a sign to the world. Only after they have made this permanent commitment are they sent out to preach and to act. At every step in monastic history, whether in its ori-gins, renewals, or creation of new forms, the Apostolic life taught by Christ to the Twelve, and by them to the primitive Christian community of Jerusalem, was the leading and most powerful influence. The Gospel texts and those in the Acts of the Apostles that describe the primitive community were decisive in creating the con-cept of monasticism and in fashioning its life and usages. In the Jerusalem community we find fraternal unanim-ity, common ownership of possessions, fidelity to the teachings of Christ, common public prayer, intense pri-vate prayer. The following passages embody all these features: Now the multitude of the believers were of one heart and soul, and not one of them said anything he possessed was his own, but they had all things in common (Acts 4:32). And they continued steadfastly in the teaching of the apostles, and in the communion of the breaking of bread and in the prayers. And all who believed were together and held all things in common. And continuing daily with one accord in the temple, and breaking bread in. their houses, they took their food with gladness and simplicity of heart, praising God and being in favor with all people (Acts 2:42-7; see also 1:14, 3:1, 6:4,34; Mt 10:gff). The ministry of the word, evangelical preaching of salvation, was c~irried out by the Apostles (Mk 6:6-13; Acts 6:4), a mission that entailed indefatigable journey-ing (Mt 10:7if; Mk 6:6-13; Acts 6:4). Only the pre-dominately lay character of early monasticism delayed the full realization of the ministerial mendicant orders. For centuries monks examined and lovingly scruti-nized the texts. The power that they exercised over monastic founders is illustrated by the passage where Athanasius describes the origin of Antony's vocation in his Life of Antony: As he was walking along on his way to Church, he col-lected his thoughts and reflected how the Apostles left every-thing and followed the Savior; also how the people in Acts sold what they had and laid it at the feet of the Apostles for distribution among the needy; and what great hope is laid up in Heaven for such as these. With these thoughts in his mind he entered the church. And it so happened that the Gospel was being read at that moment and he heard the passage in which the Lord says to the rich man: "If thou wilt be perfect, ¯ go sell all that thou hast, and give it to the poor; and come, follow me and thou shalt have treasures in heaven," 4- 4- Religious Orders VOLUME 28~ 1969 W. A. Hinnebusch, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS As though God had been speaking directly to him, An-tony left the church, sold what he had, gave it to the poor, and went into the desert. During subsequent centuries the Scriptures lost none of their influence over monasticism. The Apostolic texts led to much more than the abandonment of riches and fleeing the world; they provided a complete program of life in community. Explaining the origins of monasti-cism about 1122 A.D., Abbot William of Saint-Thierry shows how the meditation of hundreds of years had sys-tematized the Scriptural influence: We come to this spiritual sbciety of which the Apostle Paul spoke to the Philippians (2:1-5; 3:17) in praise of the regular discipline and of the sublime joy of brothers living together in unanimity. To do justice to this discipline it is necessary to return to its beginning in the time of the Apostles, since it was the Apostles themselves who instituted it as their own way of life, according to the teaching of the Lord. Unless it was the grace of the Holy Spirit which gave them power from above to live together in such a way that all would have but one heart and one soul, so that everything would be held in common, and all would be continually in the temple in a spirit of harmony. Animated by a great !ove for this form of life instituted by the Apostles, certain men wished no longer to have any other house or any other lodging than the hbuse of God, the house of prayer. All that they did they did according to a common program, under a common rule. In the name of the Lord they lived together, possessing nothing of their own, not even their bodily strength, nor were they even masters of their own will. They lay down to sleep at the same time, they rose up together, they prayed, they sang Psalms, they studied together. They showed the fixed and changeless will of being obedient to their superiors and of being entirely submissive to them. They kept their needs to a minimum and lived with very little; they had poor clothes, a mean diet, and limited everything according to a very precise rule. Influence o[ Cassian Soon after Antony went into the desert, the influence of the Scriptures on monastic origins was enhanced by a misconception of Eusebius and Jerome, who mistakenly believed that the Apostolic life of the primitive Jerusa-lem community was followed in Alexandria, Rome, and other centers. Writing a century later, Cassian developed this misconception and found in it th~ explanation of the rise of monasticism: The conversion of the Gentiles forced an abandonment of the Apostolic way by the ma-jority of Christians, even by the clergy. More zealous souls refused to give it up and founded communities to perpetuate it. This theory was very fruitful in its effects when it was coupled with the example of Antony and Pachomius, the founder of the cenobitic life, who were inspired by the Scriptures alone. This fusion constituted a powerful op- erative force in the development of monasticism for many centuries. Scarcely any monastic 'author was read so continuously as Cassian. As late as the thirteenth cen-tury, St. Dominic was reading his Conferences. Con-stantly read and reread, Cassian's books [ashioned the medieval--and our ownnmonastic life. The Holy Spirit at Work in the Church The truth underlying Cassian's error is the almost simultaneous appearance of the religious life everywhere that the Church took root. The origin of the monastic life was a spontaneous manifestation of the Holy Spirit impelling Christians to live the life of the counsels taught by Jesus. Antony was merely the first to emerge, thanks to Athanasius, from the anonymity that conceals the virgins, celibates, and ascetics who preceded him. The impetus of the Spirit is seen particularly in the early acceptance of the virginal life by both men and women as a prime means of following the Master. From the end of the first century there are references to ascetics who lived continently "in honor of the flesh of Christ." After the third century virgins were looked upon as "the most illustrious portion of the flock of Christ" and were considered the spouses of Christ. Perfect continence, to-gether with voluntary poverty and austerity of life, was a constitutive element of the ascetical life that began to develop in the second century. Though these ascetics lived in their homes, sometimes holy women, widows, and virgins formed small communities that were marked by considerable personal freedom. The general reverence of the Church for chastity when Antony became a hermit about 300 A.D. accounts in large measure for the immediate wide diffusion of the eremitic and cenobitic forms of monasticism throughout the Christian world. The dynamic power of the Holy Spirit has been con-stantly operative during the history of the religious life. Here again there is a link with the early community of Jerusalem. These Christians, as we find their record in Acts, were very conscious of the action of the Spirit in their lives and apostolic works. Theirs was a life lived in the ~lan of the Spirit, as Vicaire remarks. ImmediateIy after describing the primitive community, the Acts of the Apostles goes on to say: "And great grace was upon them all" (4:33). This grace made itself visible even by miracles: "And many wonders and signs were done through the apostles" (2:43). When William of Saint-Thierry, whom I quoted a few pages back, described monastic origins, he manifested the awareness the monks had that the charismatic power of the Spirit was at work among them. In William's think-ing it was the "grace of the Holy Spirit which gave [the ÷ ÷ 4. Religious Orders VOLUME 28, 1969 W. A o Hinnebusch~ O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Apostles] power from above to live together in such a way that all would have but one heart and one soul, so that everything would be held in common . '~ Cen-turies before, Gregory the Great, writing his Dialogues within fifty years of the death of Benedict, described the great patriarch of Western monasticism as the ideal "man of God," the spiritual father who was entirely under the guidance of the Holy Spirit. The attention paid to the miracles worked by the founders and great figtires of monastic history is not merely a thoughtless emphasis on the secondary but was motivated by. the belief that the true monk, living in community, possesses an extraordinary grace for radiat-ing sanctity and contributing to the upbuilding of the B6dy of Christ. He can even receive from the Spirit the power of working miracles. The present-day interest in the charismatic character of the religious life and the charismatic founders is a legitimate, more explicit, recognition of the power of the Spirit working through all the years of monastic history. His role in the religious life deserves more attention and should awaken in us a great hope in the future of the religious life. Antony the Hermit Monasticism entered the pages of history close to the year 300 A.D. when Antony, the great hermit, gave away his possessions and retired to the Egyptian desert. The holiness and ordered discipline of his life, characterized by solitary contemplation and a severe but lofty and well-balanced asceticism soon brought other hermits to him for direction. Great colonies of solitaries arose under Antony's direction, especially at Pispir, where he lived, and at Nitria and Scete. These disciples lived alone like their master. Antony found so many imitators because of his moral greatness at a time of growing wickedness in the contemporary world. When Constantine ended the per-secutions and began to favor Christianity, the consequent lowering of the moral level of Christian life stimulated the development of a powerful ascetical movement, in-spired by the Gospels, on the ~ringes of the populated world. Antony became the model of the movement, especially after the appearance of his Life, written by Athanasius in 357 A.D., a year after Antony died. Gre-gory of Nazianzen called it "a rule of monastic life in the form of a narrative." Athanasius, who had known Antony personally and had seen him often, considered "the life of Antony an ideal pattern of the ascetical life." He intended to hold up Antony as the exemplar of the consecrated life and induce his readers to imitate what they saw. The work enjoyed a~tonishing success and was shortly translated into various languages. Antony, earnestly desiring to die the death of a martyr, went to Alexandria in 311 A.D., when the persecution of Maximin Daja broke out, to minister to the confessors in the mines and prisons, not thinking it justified to turn himself over to the authorities. When his hopes were dis-appointed, Antony returned to his desert cell where "he was a daily martyr to his conscience, ever fighting the battles of the faith. For he practiced a zealous and more intense ascetic life." With this short passage Athanasius enriched monasticism at its very birth with a positive view of asceticism and the renunciations involved in the life of the counsels. Antony's life in the desert was a substitute martyrdom and the monk the successor to the . martyr, a concept that remains alive to this day. Pachomius the Cenobite The weakness of the ei:emitical life lay in the minimal opportunity for practicing charity. Pachomius remedied this defect when he formed a genuine fellowship based on the communal charity inherent in Christianity. He composed the first monastic Rule, in it establishing the economic and spiritual bases for the common life and providing for community government. A younger con-temporary of Antony, Pachomius first served an appren-ticeship under the hermit Palaemon. Then about the year 320 A.D. he established a monastery at Tabennisi on the right bank of the Nile. Other monasteries soon followed, so that when he died, nine for men and two for women were under his guidance. These foundations were large settlements of monks who were organized into smaller groups according to the kind of agricultural work they did or the crafts they practiced. They lived a disciplined life, practiced individual poverty and de-tachment in essential matters, supported themselves by remunerative work, gathered for prayers morning and evening, and observed the three counsels, though they took no vows. Numerous biographies testify to the esteem in which Pachomius was held and the extent of his in- ~uence. Basil the Great The eremitical and cenobitic types of monasticism spread quickly both in East and West. Basil the Great, who benefited from the experience of the previous half century bf monastic experience, became the lawgiver of Eastern monasticism when he wrote his Longer R

Issue 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 64.1 of the Review for Religious, 2005. ; Biblical Helps Maki ng Co nne c tion s QUART~:RLY 64.1: 2005 Review for Religious fosters dialogue with God, dialogue with ourselves, and dialogue with one another about the holiness we try to live according to cbarisms of Catholic religious life, As Pope Paul VI 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: 314-977-7363 ° Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: review@slu.edu ¯ YVeb 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. ©2005 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy an}, 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. ~gournalof Catholic ~piri~uali~y eview for religious Editor Associate Editor Canonical Counsel Scripture Scope Editorial Staff Webmaster Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Eugene Hensell OSB Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp Clare Boehmer ASC Steve Erspamer S~I Kathleen Hughes RSCJ Ernest E. Larkin OCarm Louis and Angela Menard . Bishop Terry Steib SVD Miriam D. Ukeritis csJ QUARTERLY 64.1 2005 contents prisms 4 Prisms religious life refocusea Religious Life: Naturally Sacred vs. Graced Sacred? Nihal Abeyasingha CSSR proposes a sacramental perspective as a corrective for religious institutes to employ in bringing a harmony between the apostolic service inspired by the graced sacred of their chrisms and that same service adapted to the naturally sacred of human invention. 22 Mixed Communities' Gift to the Church: Analogical Considerations Edward Foley OFMCap suggests that, when we look at lay-and-clerical religious communities through the lenses of biculturality and double religious belonging, we will find an untapped resource for the church and the world to which we minister. 37 bib icaO he ps Reclaiming the Prayer of Lament Colleen Vogt offers a pastoral solution for reclaiming the lament tradition, using lectio divina as a model to show how one might inhabit one of the p~alms of lament. Prayer / Reflection Review for Religious 51 The Role of Scripture on the Spiritual Journey Matthias Newman OSB reviews the gradual increase of Bible reading in the everyday spirituality of Catholics and gives some guidelines for a person's spiritual journey. Prayer 65 making connections ~ Aquinas, Pascal, Lonergan, and the Spiritual Exercises Frederick E. Crowe SJ describes two ways of our human growth--the way from above downwards (belief) and the way from below upwards (personal acquisition)--and applies these ways to the Ignatian Exercises. 76 Ignatian Colloquies: Their Surpassing Value A. Paul Dominic SJ reflects on the ease and power of the prayer time known as the Ignatian colloquies. Reflection and Discussion 89 94 99 departments Scripture Scope: Death and Resurrection: Patterns of Loss and Hope Canonical Counsel: Salus Anirnarurn Book Reviews 64.1 200~ What you are now holding in your hand is the first issue of a carefully revised Review for Religious. Our new subtitle, as you see, is A Journal of Catholic Spirituality, a description that has always been true of our journal without being expressed explicitly. One is slow to modify an esteemed sixty-three-year- old journal, either in its title or in its format. A number Of factors have led me as editor, with the consultation and approval of my advisory board and my editorial staff, to introduce this subtitle and a slightly different format, adapted from our experi-mental issues called Spirituality Review. From its beginnings Review for Religious had as its primary audience the many men and women reli-gious- priests, brothers, and sisters--now more accurately called members of the consecrated life-form in the church. At the same time Review for Religious had readers who were diocesan priests and seminarians and men and women belonging to "third Orders" or secular associations of traditional religious orders such as the Benedictines and Franciscans. But the very title of the journal referred only to "sisters" and "brothels" and some priests. Today, in view of the women and men who are now formally associated with the spirituality and min- Review for Religious istries of various religious congregations and the many others who are coworkers in the mission, it seems appropriate to make our name more inclusive. Our journal desires to share the charisms of consecrated life with all who hope thereby to enhance their Christian lives. Review for Religious has always been a journal for mem-bers of all religious congregations, without focusing on just one of them. Now this journal continues along this path with renewed mindfulness of how laypersons can benefit from the richness of the church's various spiritual traditions. Review for Religious will continue to publish articles that are theological, pastoral, spiritual, historical, and sometimes canonical. As in our Spirituality Review supplement, we will have some articles that invite interaction, both through per-sonal reflection and through conversation with others. At the same time, we will continue to publish articles that demand more attentive reading and slow personal assimilation. We will have the more interactive articles in full on our website () along with synopses of other articles from the current issue. They will be easily acces-sible via the "icons" that grace particular sections of each issue. We ask you, our readers, to spread the good news about Review for Religious. David L. Fleming SJ 64.1 2005 NIHAL ABEYASINGHA Religious Life: Naturally Sacred vs. Graced Sacred? religious life refocused The World Bank has initiated a dialogue with faiths and cultures. One of its aims is to maximize the effectiveness of its projects.' Underlying the dialogue is this institution's supposition that it needs to look carefully at the beneficiaries of its projects. Their perceptions and viewpoints could be more relevant and practical than those of its own administrative personnel. The question is twofold. Are the World Bank's assumptions a hindrance or a support to the projects it sponsors, and can there be a mutually beneficial dialogue (teaching and learning hand in hand, "evangelizing and being evangelized") between the financing partner (World Bank) and the beneficiary (the nation and its people)? In the present article I pose and try to answer those two questions in the .context of religious life. Nihal Abeyasingha CSSR has degrees in law, philosophy, Buddhism, and Catholic and evangelical theology; has recently retired from university teaching in Sri Lanka; and is spending time away from his country. He can be contacted c/o L.N. de S. Wijeyerame; 25, 2nd Lane; Ratmalana, Sri Lanka. Email: nabeyasingha@yahoo.com. Review for Religious If a religious institute can be considered the repository (the bank) of its charism and the "marginalized" the beneficiaries of its charism, the issues are, first, whether the methods of the institute are a help or hindrance to what it seeks to accomplish and, second, what mutual benefits of dialogue and interaction might we be talking about (evangelizing and being evangelized). I preface these reflections with a brief reference to Vatican Council II. When the decree Perfectae caritatis was being finalized, the forces in the council that were in tune with its renewed thinking had lost their theological battle to incorporate the vision of Lumen gentium (Constitution on the Church) into Perfectae caritatis (Decree on Religious Life). So they decided on a strategy. They outlined a method of reform and adaptation of religious life and left the actual adaptation to the religious institutes themselves. Perhaps no other council document (except Optatam totius in §16) describes a method so explicitly. The hope was that religious institutes would bring to their adaptation the vision of Lumen gentium. The method included two steps and five principles. The steps were for religious life to return to the sources of all Christian life and to adapt community living to meet the conditions of today. The five principles are (1) that the purpose of religious life is to follow Christ more closely, to live his story as it is told in the Gospels; (2) that the unique contribution of a religious institute to the church comes from the spirit and customs of its founders; (3) that all religious communities contribute to the church by taking up needs of the apostolate; (4) that communities' keen awareness of the human condition in today's world will help them serve more adequately; and (5) that all the external changes in the world mean nothing without a renewal of heart that never forgets that the goal of religious life is closeness to Christ through the vows. 64.1 2005 Abeyasingha * Religious Life The charism of the institute is a graced gift of the Spirit that~ is not available to all. A Challenging Counterfeit Probably all religious institutes have adapted their constitutions and statutes in accordance with these two steps and five principles, but problems arise amid this very renewal. In addressing them I offer this first hypothesis, namely, that sometimes what makes for the personal fulfillment of the members of a religious institute may hinder the effective functioning of the charism. The paradox of human existence is that we are spiritual and bodily at the same time. The paschal mystery touches the very depths of our being (see Rm 6). But the problem is: Can we ever fully know what our full potential as humans beings is and what depends on the gift of the Holy Spirit? Almost every spiritual gift has what has been called "a challenging counterfeit"-- spiritual healing-psychic healing, prophecy-psychic knowing, divine ecstasy-self-induced trance, and so forth) The one comes from the Spirit, the other from human nature. No one denies that what comes from human nature is good. But the problem comes when the natural is identified as not merely from "above," but as a gift of the spirit beyond questioning by mere mortals, including those entrusted with the task of "discerning spirits" within the religious institute. Natural gifts are good, even sacred, because they ultimately derive from the Spirit. But religious life bears witness to the following of Christ according to the charism of the founder. Following Christ is a call to all people without exception; the charism of the institute is a graced gift of the Spirit that is not available to all. Review for Religious The charism is different from the naturally sacred. Rudolf Otto wrote of the numinous. Jung discovered a religious component in mental health. The charism, on the other hand, is what can be called the "graced sacred." This graced sacred brings us to a greater awareness of our difference from God, seen in our particular personhood and historicity, and leads us to communion with God and with our fellow human beings. This is the point of Lumen gentium, the constitution on the church, describing the church as a sacrament, a sign and instrument of intimate union with God and the unity of the whole human race. Harmonizing the Naturally Sacred and the Graced Sacred What I suggest in this article is that the harmony comes about from the meaning of sacrament. The sacramentality of the church is expressed preeminently in seven different aspects (the sacraments) and many other practices (sacramentals). One sacrament cannot be substituted for another; the fruit of each is specific. That specific fruit is symbolized by specific natural elements and the orientation given to those elements by specific words. Similarly, I suggest, religious life and its institutes may not be in a position to use all of the naturally sacred (all of the multiplicity of good gifts) along with the graced sacred of their specific charisms, but must keep a sacramental perspective: the bread and wine of Eucharistic celebrations are no substitute for the water of baptism. To think and do otherwise is like something described by Eric Gill (1882-1940): "The clergy seem to regard it as their job to support a social order which as far as possible forces us to commit all the sins they denounce. ¯ . . A man can be a very good Catholic in a factory, our parish priest used to be fond of saying. And he was very annoyed and called us bolshevists when we retorted: Yes, 64.1 2005 Abeyusingba ¯ Religious Life but it requires heroic virtue and you have no right to demand heroic virtue from anyone and certainly not from men and women in thousands and millions." A Specific "Grace" for a Specific "Need" of a Specific "People" Here is an example from the secular world. Why do business corporations exist? To make a profit for shareholders by serving their clientele. Coca-Cola marketed a soft drink with a particular flavor for nearly a hundred years. Many felt it was time to change. A new flavor was developed. For four years there were market surveys and discussions about whether the new flavor would be accepted. Experts thought it would. But, when the new flavor was introduced, sales began falling, Coca- Cola dealers began complaining, speculators were buying up the old brand and reselling it at a premium. Once the facts were established, the management was quick to do a flip-flop. As always in the marketplace, even the cleverest ideas surrender unconditionally to reality. To express this in the language of sacraments, Coca- Cola is the church. The drink it produces and advertises (the external sign) is intended to get specific results: popular refreshment and financial profit. When adaptations are made for greater effectiveness and that effectiveness is not forthcoming, the company goes back to its original specific success. (The analogies here are, of course, rather loose.) Both business effectiveness and sacramental effectiveness may have something that religious institutes could well learn from. Another analogy would be: As any fisherman knows, the bait has to be attractive to the fish, not to the fisherman. A group of teaching brothers came from Europe to a mission country many years ago and established a small school primarily for Catholics in the town, but others were Review for Religious admitted if there was room. The brothers received no salary; their founding province supported them. Because of their sheer dedication, the school prospered. Years passed. Graduates of the school did very Well and soon held many of the better jobs. More and more students applied for admission. The school expanded. Fees were raised. The result? The poorer Catholic children for whom the school was originally intended could no longer afford the school, and, with the shortage of vocations in Europe, the brothers could no longer staff the school and so they pulled out. The diocese now runs the school. The question is whether the school and its activity and reputation are still effective signs producing the particular good result it was established to produce. Less than ten percent of its students are from poor Catholic families. I raise another question. A religious who was a popular teacher and preacher (let us call him Jack) asked and received permission to study for a doctorate in his own country. During his studies he wanted to continue with some teaching and preaching, his institute's main work; that, too, was approved. When he asked for a computer, however, he was told, "We cannot afford to give you a computer, but if someone gives you one you may keep it." At that same time his institute was spending a great deal of money on other things, including computers for others studying elsewhere. What sense does this make? What is the "sign value" of this refusal, especially when it is the institute's policy to provide members with what they need for their mission and apostolate? Priority of Insight over Orders: Problems of Transition An institution is always in danger of taking care of itself first and finding reasons for continuing to do what it has begun doing. Before Vatican II one hardly thought of the 64.1 2005 Abeyasingba ¯ Religious Life church and religious life as sacramental. They were institutions and functioned like clockwork on orders given from above rather than by options freely made by the members. The only option members had was to join the institute or leave it. Leaving An institution was not really an option, for is always in danger of it was considered putting oneself in danger of dam-taking care of itself first nation. But with Vatican II the idea came to the fore and finding reasons for-o that God's revelation is not continuing to~do so much the communication ~ of his will by commands, but what it has begun doing:., rather the manifestation of ___ I his call in Christ. Options took priority over orders--not that orders did not have a place. Life always has to function with some insights and orders from above. In the period of transition, option often came to mean a choice for oneself and for one's own pleasure and convenience. The result was some new terminology and some misunderstandings. Many religious who had worked tirelessly in the mission field were convinced of their mission's importance, but their success (judged especially by the love of the people) began to be criticized from the perspective of social-justice issues. Critics said it was more important to root out the causes of evil than to treat the victims of it. (When a drunken driver is knocking people down, one stops the driver first and then takes care of the injured.) 12 With democratic elections of superiors, numbers counted. Lobbying for candidates became a virtue supposedly for the good of the insftute. Advertisements in Catholic publications, and much more the talks of vocation promoters to prospective candidates, pointed Review for Religious out the benefits of joining this or that institute. One such promoter of vocations says, "If you join, you will get a good education, two degrees, never be without food, shelter, and clothing, take trips abroad" and so forth. The Ironic Priority of the Naturally Sacred over the Graced Sacred Twenty or thirty years ago a certain pastoral initiative was to be voted on. Some thought it was going astray. An insightful religious defended the initiative and argued that negative votes would probably be motivated by envy more than prudence. My interest now, though, is in the conclusion of what he said at the time, a short section titled "Tips to Younger Members." Today it seems to make a great deal of sense. I present an edited version of what he said, so that the individuals and the institute involved may not be identified. Those who have followed the recent efforts to block the pastoral initiative will surely have picked up some guidelines for their future. Some of these could be: 1. Concentrate on becoming popular. This is more important today, when decisions depend a great deal on the community, than when the superior was all-powerful. If you are accepted by the confreres, whatever you do will be accepted. If you are unpopular, you could be a hundred percent right, but people will find flaws. 2. Develop your apostolate outside the congregation, rather than do something that will redound to its name. 3. Spend more time on creating public opinion than on the actual work. Opportunities for this are many in the work you do and in community gatherings. Every vote you win can help. An 64.1 2005 Abeyasingba ¯ Religious Life excellent way of becoming popular is to caricature someone else, preferably someone who is out of favor at the time. 4. Note that some institutes operate like prima donnas and cannot tolerate another getting the limelight and tend to undermine those that succeed. 5. Note that, beneath all the spiritual talk, we use the same tactics that politics does; for example, we eliminate those who threaten our position. 6. Note that some confreres are skillful in getting people transferred, projects closed, and houses rethought. Enlist their help if you find that your present house or a particular confrere does not suit your taste. 7. Remember that, if you muster a sufficient quantity of emotion, it can carry more weight than rational arguments. 8. If you have a foreign degree and good contacts abroad, use arguments camouflaged by spirituality to prevent others from acquiring similar advantages: 9. Do not forget to choose scapegoats. They provide safety outlets for group frustration. If possible, pick on the more talented ones, for that will give you a head start in the race. It is easy to see that this man's irony points out the danger of the naturally sacred taking priority over the graced sacred and, worse still, acquiring institutional approval. Where to focus? My Contention is that the sacramental perspective, as outlined earlier, could function as a corrective. In this regard I recall two axioms that were used in sacramental theology: "Sacraments are for people" and "Sacraments are to be celebrated in a Revie~ for Religious human way." The corrective is people, learning from them even as one teaches and serves them and letting the normal dynamic of human interactions operate. Introducing a Corrective Based as they are on people's memories and often on their catering to their own selves, mentalities cannot be changed by decree. It is possible, however, to improve one's memories by expanding one's horizons. It is possible to lessen one's selfishness by increasing it, by including others within the ambit of self-love and self-fulfillment and thereby making pleasures of longer duration available to them and oneself, by loving your neighbor as yourself. In our day the horizons of memory are constantly being expanded. There is the effort to draw from Christian and pre-Christian thinkers principles that could be used in management. There is fascination in the variety of cultural patterns, even though unfortunately the principle of "might is right" sometimes operates. Other problems arise when people do what they consider good for others without paying enough attention to cultural patterns. Technology has expanded, and now there is the marvel of the global village. People cannot survive in this "village" by excluding others and looking out only for themselves. But that does not mean following others blindly. It is by contributing one's particular insight that one benefits from the global environment. How the Corrective Could Function The principle is that all people have specific contributions to make in the service of others. That is the reason for the very existence of religious institutes. In the global village the interconnections among people can help in the sharing .of benefits, but, if people simply remain members of the crowd and do not offer something 64.1 200Y Abeyasingba * Religious Life specific, the benefits to be shared are nothing special and what each person receives is even less. How the religious charism functions is not much different. Those who bear the charism today have to be fully aware of both providing and receiving benefits, benefits that are not necessarily measurable in money or any other numerical way. The benefits are in the life of the community of believers and in the life of the religious institute. In the history of Christianity, when many believers, sometimes the majority, deviated from gospel values, almost always it was a religious institute that initiated the reform. Eric Gill said that the "social order" which his parish priest supported (namely, values which well-meaning people usually support) often forces people to commit all the sins they denounce. This was the point made in the satiric novel The Ugly American, which showed how unintended negative results often come out of well-intentioned and generous works of U.S. foreign policy.3 One can perhaps draw from it some ideas for religious to take into account today. 1. If you manipulate people or achieve results using unethical means, the people at some point use these same means against you. Because unethical means often yield quick results, it is easy, when human rights are violated, to focus on some beneficial result being achieved at the moment. The words of a British politician are relevant: "We have no perpetual friends, no perpetual enemies; we have only perpetual interests." Western religious orders with dwindling numbers are tempted to take in members from wherever they can in order to continue the works they have set up. But have they ever asked themselves whether what they are doing caters to the self-interest of the recruits. Are the new members interested in religious life and the ministry of the institute? Or do they consider it a way of getting access to the more affluent world? By Review for Religious getting new members accustomed to levels of creature comforts well above those of the upper-middle class in their own countries, are religious institutes providing the means for a more effective ministry or are they creating a self-serving inward-looking membership? When higher superiors support blindly the actions of lower superiors, regardless of whether such actions are ethical or not, what message are they conveying to observers who have offered criticism and to others who see or hear about what is going on? The ironic "Tips to Younger Members" mentioned above are all-too-accurate a list of what religious institutes, sometimes knowingly, sometimes with naive good intentions, actually do. They seem not to ask themselves pointedly whether tolerating (or even approving) such conditions Wh nstarting lO al m-o ement, local resources. and arrangements almost inevitably causes amoral and even immoral practices to increase in the general membership. 2. When starting a local movement, use local resources. First discern the spirit of the locals that one chooses as collaborators. Then let the locals decide clearly and exactly what it is they want. When the project takes a life of its own, know that it is time to bid goodbye and let the locals manage.it. In The Ugly American a priest who wanted to do something for the locals has been so successful that the U.S. ambassador in the country writes about him, "If the report is accurate, this man is an agitator of the most extreme skill, and combines with this the typical Jesuitical command of dialectics. The priest is rumored to speak Burmese, eats native food, and is obviously engaged in some sort of papist plot. I need not remind you of Lenin's warnings about the skill of the 64.1 2005 Abeyasingba ¯ Religious Life papacy when its interests are threatened. I should appreciate receiving whatever dossier material you might have on this man.''4 If any project initiated by an outsider is to endure and not be considered a foreign imposition, it must take on a life of its own in the new soil. When people have forgotten who started a given project, that is a good sign. It means it has become part of themselves. In Bombay, India, the vigil Mass for Sundays was started relatively recently. But in Sri Lanka it has been functioning for over thirty years. The same is true of the paschal vigil celebrated after nightfall and not at midnight. If asked who initiated the changes in these places, people would probably have no idea. The fact is that they were introduced by one priest after he found that some people had difficulty coming to Sunday Mass and the Easier Vigil celebrated at midnight. Many of his fellow priests, however, were very negative about his initiative. If a project is to take a life of its own and continue beyond the lifetime of those who set it in place, it must operate according to local norms, use local resources, and harness local technology. The general temptation is often to go high tech, but in the less-developed world high tech often flounders. How many computers have been damaged when the electricity fails without warning or when voltage fluctuates? How much equipment lies unused in hospitals, either because the technician who was trained to operate the instrument has retired or because the materials required to operate it are not easily available? When high-tech equipment needs repair, who is at hand to repair it or who has the money to replace it? How few are those who think ahead and avoid such problems! How many projects fail to take account of the real needs of the people here and now and the present state of development! Are they projects that the people Review for Religious can contribute to and participate in? 3. If one can move with the "native" majority-- haltingly at first and with more confidence later--and come to share their way of life, one comes to understand their hopes and fears and expectations. That is an excellent basis for an apostolate that the majority will feel part of. With all their limitations and biases, they will bring also their native wisdom. On the other hand, if one begins with a minority elite that shares one's own cultural background and lifestyle, the apostolate is likely to move in an elitist direction and result in efforts "owned" mostly by the few and largely for their own benefit. 4. One can learn even from those who oppose one's efforts. In The Ugly American the exchange between two characters--both of them in the armed forces--is interesting. One is French and the other American. They are both involved in fighting the communists in Vietnam. The Frenchman believes that beyond the classical authors there is little to learn. But the war is going badly for those who are following classical methods. The American comes along. He proposes that some of the principles of Mao Tse-tung be included in their war effort, and he proposes fighting a battle on those principles. The Frenchman is surprised and even pleased at their success. The lesson is clear. One can learn tactics and strategy even from the "enemy"--those espousing false doctrine, unconscionable goals, and so forth. The Reassertion of the Graced Sacred Early in this article I pointed out the relation and the difference between the naturally sacred and the graced sacred. The interplay between them comes to the fore in Advent, when one reflects on the significance of Jesus' incarnation. It occurs in the prayers after communion on the four Sundays of Advent: "May our communion teach 64.1 2005 Abeyasingba ¯ Religious Life us to love heaven. May its promise and hope guide our way on earth"; "teach us to judge wisely the things of earth and to love the things of heaven"; "may this Eucharist free us from our sins and prepare us for the birthday of our Savior"i "in this sacrament we receive the promise of salvation; as Christmas draws near, make us grow in faith and love." It is not that the things of this world are evil. The statement "Indeed, nothing genuinely human fails to raise an echo in [Christians'] hearts" (GS §1) sums up the spirit of Vatican II. The point is the balance. While we appreciate and enjoy the things of this world, how do we express our faith in Christ? We seek a balance between the things of earth and those of heaven. The prayer in Proverbs 30:7-9 is relevant to ordinary human affairs and to the charism of a religious institute: "O God, two things I beg of you; do not deny me them before I die. Keep lying and falsehood far away from me; give me neither poverty nor riches; give me just as much food as I need lest, satisfied, I deny you and say, 'Who is Yahweh?' Or else, being in want, I steal and profane the name of my God." It is easy to begin well and end up doing all-too-well for ourselves. If, however, we live with and work for the majority and, more particularly, the lower end of that majority, then there is a good reality check on whether we are incarnating the charism to address today's needs or manipulating the charism for ourselves. An Italian missionary in Sri Lanka was known for his love for the laborers in his parishes. Eventually he became bishop and was known as the "coolie bishop." He traveled by public transport and, when asked why, said he liked to meet the ordinary people. Beggars walked in and out of his office. When celebrating Mass for the laborers, he went to them in full episcopal attire because, he said, he wanted to Review for Religious honor them. When I was a young priest, he was already retired. When I visited him soon after my ordination, he told me, "Look after the poor. If you do that, the rich will automatically come to you." Notes ~ See www.worldbank.org. 2 See Robert T. Sears, "A Christian Approach to Discerning Spiritualities," Journal of Christian Healing 21, no. 1 (spring 1999): 17-18. 3 William J. Lederer and Eugene Burdick, The Ugly American (London, 1958). By 1961 it had gone into thirteen printings. 4 Lederer and Burdick, Ugly American, p. 41. Be Still Be still, very still, and know that I am God. Listen to the steady breathing of a baby fern just before dawn. Listen to the high blue air calling to a distant cloud. (Do not try to woo me with your words. My heart already aches for yours - oh, if you but knew!) Listen to a cornstalk's shadow singing to the sun. Listen to ants chuckling, scratching their ears, to seeds throbbing with life. Listen long with your whole being. My voice is a whisper. My voice is silence. Be very, very still. Louise Finn CND 64.1 2005 EDWARD FOLEY Mixed Communities' Gift to the Church: Analogical Considerations An intriguing outcome of the 1994 Synod on Consecrated Life was the definition of a new genre of religious life, '~mixed communities." In Vita con-secrata Pope John Paul II has described "mixed" com-munities as institutes that originally "were envisioned as a brotherhood in which all members, priests and those who were not priests, were considered equal among themselves" but "have acquired a different form with the passage of time" (§61). Two distinct yet 0ppositional fac-tors in this picture are the clericalization that had occurred in many men's religious communities before Vatican Council II and the call of the council's Perfectae caritatis (§2) for communities to return to the original inspiration of their founders.1 Edward Foley OFMCap presented a x;ersion of this article in Assisi in March 2004. He is professor of liturgy and music at Chicago Theological Union, where his address is 5401 South Cornell Avenue; Chicago, Illinois 60615. Review for Religious When my Capuchin Franciscan order addressed these two factors, it became clear that brotherhood and fra-ternity, rather than ordination, are the "specific kernel of the gospel form of life revealed by the Most High to Francis." Capuchins have declined to introduce "clerical institute" language into our constitutions, appealing this matter directly to Pope John Paul II in 1987. The pope's 1996 message to our minister general, in which he stressed the link between our identity as brothers and the nature of "mixed institutes," seems to affirm the non-clerical nature of our order.2 Despite such official clarifications, however, there continue to be tensions among Capuchins regarding the appropriate relationship between ordination and reli-gious profession. Such tensions manifest themselves gov-ernmentally around the questions of electing lay brothers as provincials and of the proper role of concelebration in Capuchin life. Initial formation also is a point of con-tention: formators struggle with balance between for-mation for Capuchin life and formation for ordained ministry. Such tensions are not limited to Capuchins or Franciscans; many "mixed communities" struggle with them. More broadly, the Roman Catholic Church itself could be considered a "mixed community" comprising lay and ordained persons, persons of equal dignity in dif-ferent ecclesial states of life. And so I offer this study of "Capuchin priesthood" not only as a way to rethink the nature of ordained priesthood within institutes of consecrated life, but also as a way to reenvision the relationship of ordination and baptism, of the clergy and the laity. If a community of equal members can consider the juxtaposition of its Franciscan "minority" and its sacerdotality less as a prob-lem to be solved than a grace to be lived, maybe its think-ing can help other religious communities and the church 64.1 200~ Foley ¯ Mixed Communities' Gift to the Church 24 itself to think about appropriate complementarities among the mix of lay and ordained members. I propose this reenvisioning through two unexpected analogues to the relationship of priesthood and member-ship in an institute of consecrated life. These two ana-logues are biculturality and double religious belonging. Biculturality One of the characteristics of 2 lst-century society is a heightened multiculturalism. Cultural commentators and especially cross-cultural psychologists have begun to explore the phenomenon of biculturality. Sometimes it is defined as "the ability of people in a minority culture to understand and work within the dominant culture in order to improve their economic and/or physical well-being .[while retaining] the knowledge and behaviors of their own indigenous culture." 3 Some contend that bicul-turalism is only a transitory phase.4 Others believe that biculturality is by definition the marginal experience of not being in either culture, but trying to understand and change that situation,s Recently, however, some researchers have argued that biculturality is not necessarily a matter of marginalizafion or dislocation nor an uncomfortable step toward assim-ilation. Rather, it is a healthy and even ideal stage in which one's original cultural worldview remains while one acquires other cultural views.6 According to these researchers, then, biculturality can be the integrated life stance of belonging to two cultures at the same time.7 This view of biculturality suggests that living what some have called "a hyphenated existence" successfully does not mean achieving a perfect equilibrium between cultures, but engaging in a continuous negotiation between them. Researchers have found that bicultural persons do not embrace elements from both cultures to Review for Religious the same degree at the same time. Instead, as their self-identities adjust to various social situations, they seek various cultural balances.8 They seem to achieve an advanced degree of acculturation, becom-ing adept at drawing upon varied aspects of their cultural identities as needed. I think that this more positive and dynamic understanding of biculturality pro-vides a useful analogy for thinking about religaous profession vis-a-vis the priesthood. In particular, I think it makes three distinc-tive contributions to thinking about this relationship. First of all, biculturality suggests that being an ordained religious does not force one to choose either the religious life or the priesthood as primary or foundational. Unfortunately, this choice is often made: men describe themselves as "first a Capuchin, and only then a priest." Such words imply that one vocation is not as important or as privileged a voice in the identity as the other. Chronologically, of course, formation as a Capuchin ordi-narily comes first and then formation for presbyteral min-istry, but this does not prevent a friar from living an integrated life, with religious profession and ordination as equal dialogue partners in the lived "culture" of his vocation. If one were to find theological meaning in this chronology, a meaning that would supersede "cultural" considerations, that could introduce a kind of colonial-ism by suggesting, for example, that Capuchin priesthood must somehow be tamed by Capuchin life--or vice versa. Biculturality, however, suggests another way. Individual Capuchins and Capuchin communities that 64.1 2005 Foley ¯ Mixed Communities' Gi~ to the Church welcome both profession and ordination can model-- because of that lived reality--a mutual "inculturation" (not an "acculturation,''9 but a constructive bicultural-ity), an integration without denigration. This would be a turn to what some theologians call "complementary dualism," a kind of East Asian yin-yang symbolic think-ing-- a "both/and" form of thinking distinct from the "conflicting dualism" and "either/or" thinking that mark so much of Western thought.1° Biculturality reveals that, in the hyphenated reality of the friar-priest and in the reality of ordained and nonordained members in mixed communities, there is actually grace: for the individual, the community, the church, and the world. Biculturality suggests that there is here a gift to be accepted, not a problem to be solved.~ There is, as Jung Young Lee asserts, an invitation to be not only "both/and," not only "in-between," but also "in-beyond," transcending the present and finding a new identity, a new understand-ing, a new relationality epitomized as a "harmony of dif-ference." 12 A second contribution of biculturality to our under-standing of ordained religious and of communities that comprise both the lay and ordained vocations is aware-ness of the dynamism present there. As previously noted, various studies have shown that bicultural persons make various adaptations according to various social situa-tions. 13 This insight is useful for mixed communities and for their individual friar-priests. Just as a bicultural African American woman knows when to adapt to one or other circumstance or keep a balance between them, so can individual Capuchin priests and Capuchin communities acquire sufficient integra-tion to know what to do when. An example would be concelebration. When they concelebrate, ordained friars emphasize the presbyteral facet of their ecclesial identity. Review for Religious Sometimes this is most appropriate, as at the Chrism Mass on Holy Thursday, when priests celebrate receiv-ing their priesthood from Christ in union with their bishop. At a Mass of first profession, however, concele-bration is inappropriate, for it would emphasize the priesthood of some of the friars at a ritual moment when our Capuchin identity is the focus. Concelebration is not an absolute right; it needs to be regulated in accord with various sensible considerations.14 Note that the goal of people's inculturation is alertness to relevant consid-erations and wisdom in weighing them in various cir-cumstances. One-size-fits-all responses (such as "No concelebration, ever" or "I always concelebrate") are not adequate. The goal is not to ignore or suppress prefer-ences and other considerations, but to find the appro-priate dynamic balance in various circumstances. A third contribution of bicultural understandings is that they can put us in solidarity with the many sisters and brothers around the world for whom biculturality is not an option, but a fact of their everyday life. The last thirty years have brought a 230-percent increase in the number of people who live outside their countries of birth--an estimated 185 million people,is Growing numbers of today's people are of mixed race. As V]rgilio Elizondo has aptly noted, "the future is mestizo." 16 Of course, biculturality and mixed race are not nec-essarily synonymous terms, especially if one thinks of biculturality as an advanced state of acculturation. Unfortunately, many immigrants and people of mixed race live in circumstances of marginalization and forced itinerancy, not integration. Such pilgrims long to move in from the margins, finding a society that allows them to live their own lives--woven of disparate social and cultural strands--in integrated and peaceful ways. If we are to be on mission to these displaced and dis- 64.1 2005 Foley ¯ Mixed Communities' Gift to the Cburcb traught people, we must acknowledge that our first step in evangelization is "the example of our lives.''~7 The ecclesially "mixed" ~8 nature of international communities such as the Capuchins is an untapped resource for our mission to those caught between countries, languages, We are a hybrid community, a conjunction of lay and ordained, disparate str~ands woven together into a single, yet not homogenized identity: ? and cultures, for we embody an ecclesias-tical biculturality and are a religious paral-lel to what some post-modern scholars call "hybridity." We are a hybrid community, a conjunction of lay and ordained, dis-parate strands woven together into a single yet not homogenized identity. We are living examples-- or at least potential examples--of ecclesiastical incul-turation, of the integration of clerical and lay cultures into better relationship. Double Religious Belonging Another contemporary form of hybridity is double religious belonging.19 This, too, may help lay religious and ordained religious reimage their togetherness. Double religious belonging--that is, being an adherent of one religion while incorporating the teachings or prac-tices of another religion--may be attributable to increas-ing globalization. In the West and in a church such as ours, this appears to be the case.2° In countries like Japan, however, double religious belonging is not only widespread but also a traditional, preglobalization real-ity. Recent government statistics indicate that, in a coun-try of 126 million, 100 million Japanese identify Review for Religious themselves as Shinto adherents, and 95 million identify themselves as Buddhists. The only conclusion one can draw is that a majority of Japanese consider themselves both Shintoists and Buddhists.2~ Not only is double religious belonging the rule in China, Japan, Korea, Vietnam, India, Nepal, and Sri Lanka;22 it is also at the root of Christian origins. Claude Geffr~ writes: "At first the Jews who had become disci-ples of the path of Jesus found it completely normal to continue to visit the synagogue, to be circumcised, and not to eat certain forms of impure meats. Thus they believed in the possibility of remaining Jewish while becoming Christian.''23 Despite this history, however, double religious belonging has emerged as a theological problem "in reli-gions that demand an absolute and exclusive commit-ment on the part of their adherents to their founders and/or faiths." Peter Phan numbers among such reli-gions Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. He notes that "these three religions consider themselves not only mutu-ally incompatible but also irreconcilable with any other religion whatsoever, so that 'conversion' to any one of them is often celebrated with an external ritual signaling a total abjuration of all previous religious allegiances." Despite such official stances, some Roman Catholic and other Christian scholars believe that double belonging-- being a Hindu Christian or a Christian Buddhist--is increasing and may even be desirable.24 1 will leave that debate to theologians concerned with religious plural-ism, but I want to examine two contributions that dou-ble religious belonging brings to our rethinking of the "mixed communities" of priests and lay religious. First, double religious belonging is a catalyst for a particular and promising type of dialogue across notori-ously difficult terrain. Vv'hen individuals and communi- 64.1 200Y. Foley ¯ Mixed Communities' Gi3~ to the Church ties simultaneously identify themselves with two distinct religious traditions, they enable dialogue marked by unusual openness and absence of acrimony. In describing effective interreligious dialogue, Jacques Dupuis says that, "in order to be true, interreligious dialogue between persons of different faiths requires that both partners make a positive effort to enter into each other's religious experience and overall vision insofar as is possible.''2s Such empathy is a particular gift of those individuals and communities who live not between but within two dif-ferent religious experiences. Their dialogue is actually a dialogue with themselves, and it has a ready capacity for honesty and authenticity in a complementary rather than exclusionary manner. It is, in effect, a public self-exam-ination requiring a particular humility and honesty. Such dialogue is not only a technique for survival but a powerful form of witness and evangelization.26 It reveals Christianity in its most hospitable mode, allowing for "mutual complementarity" that enriches all partners in the dialogue.27 It is a rejection of colonial forms of mis-sionary activity where the goal is to impose one's reli-gious beliefs on another community, and an exquisite example of a new kind of missiological dialogue--a "mis-sion in reverse"--in which a true mutuality between mis-sionary and community develops,z8 Analogously, 2 lst-century Capuchins--like other mixed communities--embody a kind of double religious belonging, both within individual friars and within our communities. The graced invitation here is to a public dialogue of the self, a new response to our constitutions' call to "mutual dialogue" in a spirit of fraternal under-standing and sincere esteem,29 a call to a continual self-examination marked by empathy, honesty, and hospitality. If we can sustain such humble dialogue, not so much for resolving some perceived problem in our Capuchin iden- Review for Religious tity as for continual self-reflection, Capuchin life will freshly give gospel witness to people outside the Roman Catholic community. Simultaneously, such Capuchin Franciscan dialogue will become a poignant form of "new evangelization," not only (in Pope John Paul's words) as "reawakening traditionally Christian countries to the urgency of the gospel," but also as struggling with the alienation that faithful Catholics often feel as a result of clericalism in the face of yearnings for new models for the ordained ministry. A second contribution of double religious belonging to our rethinking of Capuchin priesthood is its invita-tion to reconciliation. Few forms of violence are more heinous than those perpetrated in the name of religion. Holy wars, a disturb-ing human reality, are a particularly unset-tling legacy among Jews, Christians, and Muslims.3° In his clas-sic work Violence and the Sacred, Ren4 Girard ,i A secon~ d. contribution of idouble religious belonging ' :o~o to o.urreth~i~tking ~ ,,~"~ ~i~of Capuch~n priesthood ::~ ,:is i~s invitation to r~coffciliation, has demonstrated how religion and violence are wed together in ancient religions.31 As recent events in Bosnia, Northern Ireland, Israel, Afghanistan, and other places demonstrate, however, the inseparability of religion and violence has not been relegated to some ancient past. Sadly, many today embrace violence as a "sacred duty." 32 As Christians we are called to confess the horrors we have perpetrated under the banner of Christ. As John Cobb summarizes, "our history is replete with persecu-tion of Jews and heretics. We have sanctioned and sanc- 64.1 2005 Foley ¯ Mixed Communities' Gi3~ to the Church dried conquest and slavery. We have undergirded patri-archy in extreme and horrific forms. We have ignored the consequences of our actions for the well-being of the natural world, thus threatening the human future on this planet. We have used political and economic power to force our beliefs on others." 33 Few have modeled our need to confess such sins of commission and omission as much as our H01y Father, who throughout his pon-tificate has confessed the wrongs that the church has perpetrated against Jews, the Orthodox, minorities, and others.34 This is an essential move towards reconcilia-tion. Yet forgiveness is not a power that belongs to the perpetrators, but a gift that belongs to victims, and it is a gift they can give only when they are no longer demo-nized, colonialized, trivialized, or in some other way dis-missed as the "other.''3s Those who experience the grace of double religious belonging can show us the way. They have embraced the other to themselve~ and become living icons of interre-ligious dialogue. As dynamic models of integration, they clarify that reconciliation is not an act once and for all achieved, but an abiding prophetic stance.36 Individuals and, even more so, communities of double religious belonging are symbolic antidotes for the poisons of reli-gious ignorance and hostility, and show the way to "shalom." A minorite community of lay and ordained members can be similarly iconic. Individual ordained fri-ars and, even moire so, communities of lay and ordained brothers also manifest, in a sense, double religious belonging. They show clearly that there are no aliens or strangers in our midst, that otherness is to be welcomed. What a potent witness to a church in which there is considerable feeling of alienation. Many feel that prob-lems of a clerical culture significantly contributed to the sexual abuse that has rocked the church in my own coun- Review for Religious try and others. The clergy and the laity feel some alien-ation from each other. In a recent study of newly ordained Roman Catholic priests in the United States, the respected sociologist Dean Hoge reports that sev-enty- five percent of diocesan priests in the United States ordained between 1995 and 1999 believe that ordination confers on priests a new status which makes him essen-tially different from the laity; sixty-nine percent believe that a priest must see himself as a "man set apart" by God; and thirty-six percent think the laity need to be "better educated to respect the authority of the priest's word.''37 This suggests that considerable numbers of Roman Catholic priests and laypersons may view each other as different, unreconciled strangers, even aliens. Like all those who embrace otherness even in them-selves, we Capuchins too must be agents of reconcilia-tion, in the church and for the church and the world. In the image of the Crucified, we are called to break the circle of violence, to model a new way of being church, a new way of being priest, no.t predicated upon separa-tion and sacralization, but rather in solidarity with oth-ers and in humble service. A Gift to the Church Often communities like my own consider the issue of lay friars and friar-priests an internal one. I would contend that mixed communities are not an intra nos "problem," but a gift to the church and the world. The meaning, the reality, of that gift is well illustrated by its analogy with the contemporary phenomena of biculturality and double reli-gious belonging. Such reenvisioning is useful not only for mixed religious communities, but also for a the contem-porary "mixed" church. In a world and church wounded by violence and oppression and abuse, it is only through collaboration, mutuality, and an openness to understand- 64.1 2005 Foley * Mixed Communities' Gift to the Church ing and abiding with each other that we can prevent vio-lence and become true collaborators in God's reign. Notes t For help on this article, I am grateful especially to Professors Stephen Bevans SVD and Robert Schreiter CPPS of Catholic Theological Union and to my Capuchin brother Patrick McSherry. 2 Analecta OFM Cap (2002): 338-342. 3 Jerome Hanley, "Beyond the Tip of the Iceberg," Reaching Today's Youth 3, no. 2 (1999): 10. 4 See M.M. Gordon, Assimilation in American life (New York: Oxford University Press, 1964). s Visweswaran Kamala, Fictions of Feminist Ethnography (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1994), p. 127, as cited in Ravneet Tiwana, "Hyphenated Identities and the Space 'In- Between': Construction of the Sikh-American Identity." http://depart-ments. oxy.edu/anthropology(31.xii.03). 6 J.M. Bennett, "Multiculturalism and International Education: Domestic and International Differences," in Learning across Cultures, ed. Gary Althen (Washington D.C.: National Association of International Educators, 1994), pp. 157-158. 7 See Jean Phinney, "Ethnic Identity in Adolescents and Adults: Review of Research," Psychological Bulletin 108, no. 3 (1990): 501- 502. s See K.A. Noels, G. Pon, and R. Clement, "Language, Identity, and Adjustment: The Role of Linguistic Self-Confidence in the Acculturation Process," Journal of Language and Social Psychology 15, no. 3 (1996): 246-264. 9 This is an intentional move from the term "acculturation," used by social scientists, to "inculturation," used by theologians. ~0 Jung Young Lee, The Trinity in Asian Perspective (Nashville: Abingdon, 1996), pp. 33-34. ** See the stories of "hyphenation" as 'an exploration of grace in Peter Phan and Jung Young Lee, eds., Journeys at the Margin: Toward an Autobiographical Theology in Asian-American Perspective (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1999). ,2 See Jung Young Lee, Marginality: The Key to Multicultural Theology (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1995). ,3 See Inga Jasinskaja-Lahti, "On a Way toward Integration: Russian-Speaking Immigrant Adolescents in Finland." http:// www.utu.fi(15.xii.03). Review for Religious 14 See John Huels, "Concelebration," in Disputed Questions in the Liturgy Today (Chicago: Liturgy Training Publications, 1988), pp. 39-45. ,5 This is a conservative estimate (9.i.04). ~6 Virgilio Elizondo, The Future Is Mestizo (Oak Park: Meyer-Stone Books, 1988). ~7 Third Plenary Council of the Capuchin Order (Mattli, 1978), The Path of Renewal: The Documents of the Five Plenary Councils and the First Assembly of the Order of Capuchin Friars Minor, ed. Regis Armstrong, p. 44. ,8 Letter of John Paul II to John Corriveau (18 September 1996) as cited in Analecta OFM Cap 112, nos. 3-4 (1996): 566. ~9 Though some speak of "multiple religious belonging," we opt for "double religious belonging." As Claude Geffr~ explains, multiple religious belonging is a postmodern form of syncretism in which con-sumers consider the living religions as supermarkets from which they choose. It is "believing without belonging," with little attention to "the credibility of this or that belief, its necessary connection to this or that religious system, and its incompatibility with other beliefs. The only criterion is the enhancement of my being and most inti-mate potentialities." See "Double Belonging and the Originality of Christianity as a Religion," in Many Mansions? Multiple Religious Belonging and Christianity, ed. Catherine Cornille (Maryknolh Orbis Books, 2002), p. 94. 20 See Catherine Cornille, "The Dynamics of Multiple Belonging," in Many Mansions? p. 1. 2~ Jan Van Bragt, "Multiple Religious Belonging of the Japanese People," in Many Mansions? p. 8. 22 Peter Phan, "Multiple Religious Belonging," Theological Studies 64 (2003): 498. 23 Geffr~, "Double Belonging," p. 102. 24 Phan, "Multiple," pp. 498 and 504. 2s Jacques Dupuis, "Christianity and Religions: Complementarity and Convergence," in Many Mansions? p. 64. 26 Sung-Hae Kim, "An East Asian Understanding of Mission," in Mission in the Third Millennium, ed. Robert Schreiter (Maryknolh Orbis Books, 2001), pp. 16-17. 27 Dupuis, "Christianity," p. 65. 28 See Claude Marie Barbour, "Seeking J~astice and Shalom in the City," International Review of Mission 73 (1984): 305. The Third Plenary Council of the Order (Mattli, 1978) affirmed this notion of "reverse mission" in Path of Renewal, p. 61. 64.1 2005 Foley ¯ Mixed Communities' Gift to the Church 29 Capuchin Constitutions 84:2; see 145:3,157:4, 162:1,175:2,175:4. 30 See Leo Lefebure, "Sacred Violence and Interreligious conflict: The Background of a Tragedy," Chicago Studies 41, no. 1 (2002): 8- 25. 31 Ren~ Gerard, Violence and the Sacred, trans. Patrick Gregory (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1977). 32 R. Scott Appleby, The Ambivalence of the Sacred: Religion, Violence, and Reconciliation (Lanham: Rowman and Littlefield, 2000), pp. 81- 120. 33 John Cobb, "Multiple Religious Belonging and Reconciliation," in Many Mansions? p. 25. 34 Many of these are chronicled in Luigi Accattoli, When a Pope Asks Forgiveness: The Mea Culpas of John Paul II, trans. Jordan Aumann (Boston: Pauline Books and Media, 1998). The book could not include more recent papal gestures such as the 12 March 2000 ceremony in Rome calling for forgiveness for the sins committed by members of the church, and the May 2001 trip to Athens, where the pope asked for forgiveness for sins against Orthodox Christians. 3s Robert Schreiter, Reconciliation: Mission and Miniswy in a Changing Social Order (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1992), pp. 45-46 and 52-53. 36 While John Cobb does not think that "multiple belongers" can lead the reconciliation process, I think he overlooks the iconic role of such believers in that process. See Cobb, "Multiple," pp. 26-27. 37 Dean R. Hoge, The First Five Years of the Priesthood: A Study of Newly Ordained Catholic Priests (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 2002), p. 28. cloister space curves softly into silence here a solitude like trees becomes the smooth line of bench or table even the edge of longing breathes a blessing curving back into flesh and bone Lou Ella Hickman IWBS Review for Religious COLLEEN VOGT Reclaiming the Prayer of Lament Prayer has been described as "an exercise in dialogue with a deity that holds simultaneously great hope and immeasurable risks.''1 Christians, at least popularly, are taught to ask for what we need and to praise God for what we are given, bearing pain and pleasure just the same, as God's will. While there is, of course, value to prayer in a "Thy will be done" stance, we lose much if we cannot hold God accountable for our suffering as our Israelite ancestors did. Walter Brueggemann articulates well this "costly loss of lament." 2 This paper addresses a loss of lament and suggests that lectio divina can show how one might "inhabit the psalms of lament,''3 in particular Psalm 69, and thus enter into dialogue with God while feeling pain and anger. Costly Loss of Lament Much in today's world calls for lament: violence and war, our complicity in social sin, Colleen Vogt has a graduate degree in divinity and is in ini-tial formation at Mount St. Benedict Monastery; 6101 East Lake Road; Erie, Pennsylvania 1651 I. biblical helps 64.1 2005 Vogt ¯ Reclaiming the Prayer of Lament slander of one another, and even petty disagreements. We need to be able to bring such laments to prayer not only in petition and confession to be rid of them, but also from the very midst of our feelings of anger and anguish. Without lament in our prayer and worship, we live an impoverished relationship with God. We lose an element of authenticity in our prayer if we do not honestly face our faith's bewilderment at evil that still exists when God is all good and all powerful. Prophets offer us examples. Jeremiah speaks of being overpowered by God (Jr 20:7). If he does not take up this concern of his with God, he cannot grow in his relationship. Brueggemann suggests object-relations theory about mothers and their children as a parallel, but any human relationship can show this human concern for authenticity. When people feel trampled upon, they must speak up or risk not being a full person in relation to the other. As Brueggemann says, "the absence of lament makes a religion of coercive obedience the only possibility.''4 A pattern of coerced obedience is likely to think "If I am suffering, it must be God's will, and 'his will be done'" without us liking it, and in fact smothering some truth. At this point we need not become violent or abusively assertive, but we can ask for respect. Lament leads to asking questions of theodicy. By lamenting we express that all is not well with the world, that this state of affairs is changeable, and that it seems to be God's responsibility to change the situation. Just to form this thought has a benefit all by itself. Brueggemann points out that Jeremiah seems happy simply in the hope of having his say, without expecting anything to change: "You will be in the right, O Lord, when I lay charges against you, but let me put my case to you" (Jr 12:1, NRSV throughout). Jonah, however, clearly expects God to respond. He asserts that God has "cast [him] into the Review for Religious deep" and declares as an accomplished fact that God brought him back up from the pit (2:3-6). God is the one responsible for his downfall and the one who can restore him. "Deliverance belongs to the Lord" (Ion 3:9). The ancients reasoned that in a world without an evil God, and ruled over by an all-powerful God, if something is wrong it must be because of God. Speaking to God about this, or "holding God against God," is risky, but it allows one to continue.5 Otherwise, without admitting one's true feelings of lament, one could not truly express praise as a free person: "praise can retain its authenticity and naturalness only in polarity with lamentation." 6 If we admit this need for lament, how do we go about restoring it? There are a number of ways in our tradition. I suggest lectio divina as a help to inhabiting a lament psalm prayerfully. Lectio Divina Several recent books introduce lectio divina in an accessible manner. They provide slighdy different ways of prayerfully reading the Bible (or some other text). The following is an amalgamation of these sources and my own experience. Lectio: reading. What does the text say? What do the words actually say? Also, what is its literary or historical setting? One may read several translations or glance at the accompanying notes. Cross-references may provide insight into the text at hand. For those familiar with Scripture, connections may occur of their own accord. Lectio divina is not the time for more extensive research. Meditatio: meditation. One explores the text further, making room for it in our hearts. What word or phrase stands out? By focusing on short sections, we have time to mull things over. We may learn small parts by heart, to help our heart to become more involved.7 We reflect 64.1 200Y Vogt ¯ Reclaiming the Prayer of Lament prayerfully, drawing personal meaning from the text.8 We trust in the grace of God to lead us. These first two .steps are closely tied to each other and are similar to what I learned about exegesis as a theology What happens in us we trust in the gra ce of God to lead us? student. Lectio, however, is private prayer, and exegesis seeks more universal and communal insights. It is best not to double up and intermingle these two practices.9 Oratio: prayer. Once we have become familiar with the text, we are ready to relate it to our life. Perhaps the words invoke our deepest desire; they may help us find meaning in suffering. They may have reminded us of others who need our compassion. Other words, too, may come to mind at this moment in a prayerful way. Contemplatio: contemplation. Here, more or less beyond words, one sits in the presence of God. During prayer these stages are not always clearly delineated, but they have a general movement toward contemplatio. Often one reads slowly and mindfully until a word or phrase catches one's attention or tugs at one's heart. Then one pauses for a shorter or longer time. Vv'hen attention wanes, one returns to the same text or moves on.|° Lectio and a Psalm of Lament Let us now apply this to a psalm. I chose a psalm because, as a postulant in a Benedictine community, I look to know them more deeply and because the "psalms invite us to be honest." ~ They give us scriptural language to express and transform deep and dark emotions such as anger, self-righteou.sness, and sorrow. And I have come to appreciate the special relationship between the psalms Review for Religious and lectio. Bernard of Monte Cassino says, "In psalmody we speak to God, in lectio God speaks to us through the Scriptures. In the first we ask him about things, and in the second we understand the answer." 12 Lectio/Meditatio I put these two steps together to bring some exegesis to the prayerful reading, for it can provide enrichment. When one has great familiarity with Scripture, a kind of exegesis arises spontaneously in prayer, but beginners can use help in making connections and understanding the psalms' literary style. In Psalm 69 there are many graphic images: "waters have come up to my neck," more enemies "than the hairs of my head," poison and vinegar for food and drink, and enemies "blotted out of the book of the living." These give readers pause and invite them to react. The images of distress may stir compassion for the psalmist or a memory of having felt like that. One may think of examples of unjust sufferers: prophets of the gospel, persons falsely accused of crimes, the church itself, or Jesus, the ultimate innocent suffering servant. The strong curses may evoke immediate resistance because Christians should "love your enemies"--or perhaps agreement with the vindictive sentiment as personal enemies come to mind. But any of these reactions may signal that God is trying to say something to our heart. The reactions may be invitations from God to go deeper. They may suggest that we pause and ponder. What is God saying through this text? Alternate translations may help. The words quoted above from the New Revised Standard Version are almost the same as those in the New American Bible, except that "poison" becomes "gall." Are there cross-references provided for this text? This is, in fact, the psalm most quoted in the ~4.1 2005 Vogt ¯ Reclaiming the Prayer of Lament Cursing enemies is a difficult_.th ei one with which many modern ,Christians are uncomfortabie. What is my res ponse? New Testament.13 "Gall and vinegar" appears in the Gospel accounts and in Romans 15:3 and Hebrews 11:26. Verse 25 about a camp made desolate is used in Acts 1:20 to refer to Judas. Revelation 3:5 mentions "the book of life" of verse 28 (and elsewhere in the Hebrew Scriptures). Seeing the psalmist's words reinterpreted on Jesus' lips in the Gospels or used in explaining theological concepts in Paul's letters brings new levels of meaning. Christological interpretation of the psalms is very much a part of the patristic tradition. Biblical notes and commentaries offer background information on several phrases and themes. The "deep waters" of verse 2 suggest the chaos engulfing the earth itself along with this innocent person. In the praise at the end, even the sea, which was a threat in the beginning, offers its praise to God. The water reference could also refer to a river ordeal, a trial by water to test the innocence of a person.14 This ancient practice was revisited in European medieval and American colonial witch trials. Praise as a sacrifice or offering to God is another theme in this psalm. This usage helps scholars to date this psalm. Because verses 30-31 say that a song of praise is worth more than an animal (or grain) sacrifice, the psalm is probably exilic or postexilic; there is no temple in which to offer sacrifices.~5 Prophets and psalmists determine that God does not want animals ("Do I eat the flesh of bulls or drink the blood of goats?" Ps 50:13), but prefers people's obedience and songs of praise instead. Cursing enemies is a difficult theme, one with which many modern Christians are uncomfortable. The strong Review for Reli~ous words are frequendy omitted from the lectionary cycles even when the rest of the psalm appears. They are sometimes excised from communal prayer. But it is important to understand this literary device in its context. Hebrew is a particularly metaphoric and graphic language. Though desires for punishment are certainly expressed, the words are not all meant literally,16 nor are the psalmist's words a decree of punishment--this is no vigilante justice seeker. In the Israelite understanding, the curse was only to be effective upon God's judgment that the person was indeed guilty. This was helpful to Israel as a people without a modern justice system as we know it. This is the reasoning behind trials by ordeal. If God finds guilt in someone, he or she will die. This practice is not in accord with modern thought and sensibilities, but, in many cases, allowing God to do the punishing is an idea needed as much today as ever. Many a lawsuit or personal vendetta might be prevented if those involved brought their laments to God and left the case in the hands of divine justice. Another relevant aspect of cursing is that there is indeed evil in the world that needs to be exorcized. Though the Israelite understanding did not easily distinguish between the sin and the sinner or between the individual and the community, we can take a cue from the psalmist and curse the sin, asking God to purify this blot in our community. We can curse an evil on behalf of those who cannot, namely, the victims who have been so dehumanized that they can no longer pray themselves.17 Claus Westermann has noted the following elements in biblical laments: address or introductory petition, lament, turning toward God (confession of trust), petition, and vow of praise.~8 We see them to some extent in this psalm. "Save me, O God" invokes God in verse 1. Then there is a long lament to God over the psalmist's 64.1 200Y Vogt ¯ Reclaiming the Prayer of Lament 44 situation: false accusations, desertion by friends and family, ridicule for religious practice (vv. 2-12). There is a confident petition to God for help (vv. 13-18). "Answer me, rescue me, let me be delivered," verse 13 cries out. After more lamenting about his sorry situation (vv. 19- 21), the psalmist expresses a desire for God to punish his enemies (vv. 22-28). This cursing is especially graphic and invites us to admit our own inner violence. A final petition for salvation in verse 29 makes way for a song of praise that calls all the earth to praise God (vv. 30-36). This praise ends the mood of sadness and vindictiveness and moves the psalmist to trust that God will make salvation known by vindicating him in the here and now. Westermann offers another helpful observation. Three subjects or characters have a part in many of the lament psalms: God, the psalmist, and the enemies. Westermann traces the history of the lament psalms by noting the balance between the three subjects. Accusations against God become more and more subtle, perhaps representing a trend like the one we know today of being hesitant to accuse God. As this is. a later psalm, the small accusation against God in verse 17 is couched in restrained terms: "Do not hide your face from your servant"--words that hint that God be not silent or absent.~9 This close and prayerful reading of the psalm helps us see how others prayed this psalm in the past. We understand the situation and the words and phrases better, sharing in the tradition. But we do this in order to communicate with God better, and so we turn now to oratio and contemplati0. Oratio Looking again at the text, we pray it with new eyes and a new heart. Perhaps, by God's grace, we are inhabiting the psalm, or perhaps the word dwells in us. Review for Religious God spoke to us as we came to understand the psalm more deeply. Now we speak to God as we understand our own relation to the psalm. We pray as the innocent sufferer, declaring anger at God (a little) and at enemies and problems (a lot). We trust in God to restore our fortunes, sure that it will happen. We may repeat our prayer, perhaps going deeper. More understanding may come, or more earnest petition. At some point this dialogue is finished, and we are left without words, or "we read under the eye of God until the heart is touched and leaps to flame.''2° Contemplatio We may image contemplation as gazing at God or just being in God's presence.21 No deep searching of our own into the text can force this. Our reflection on the text is mere preparation, tilling the soil and watering the seeds. It is God who brings forth the fruit of the land and the fruits of contemplation. We move forward, changed by this encounter with God through the word of God. We ha~e followed the traditional lectio model for expressing and transforming deep emotions. By inhabiting the words and the world of the psalmist, we are brought into relationship with our tradition and with God. We go forward by witnessing to the Word as committed Christians, in a stage one writer calls operatio.22 Notes ~ Samuel E. Balentine, Prayer in the Hebrew Bible: The Drama of Divine-Human Dialogue (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1993), p. 168. 2 Walter Brueggemann, "The Costly Loss of Lament," in his The Psalms and the Life of Faith (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1995). 3 Michael JinkJns, In the House of the Lord: Inhabiting the Psalms of Lament (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1998). 4 Brueggemann, "Costly Loss," p. 104. 64.1 200Y Vogt ¯ Reclaiming the Prayer of Lament s Balentine, Prayer, p. 146. 6 Claus Westermann, Praise and Lament in the Psalms, trans. Keith R. Crim and Richard N. Soulen (Atlanta:John Knox Press, 1981), p. 267. 7 Mariano Magrassi, Praying the Bible: An Introduction to Lectio Divina, trans. Edward Hagman (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1998), p. 109. 8 Thelma Hall, 7bo Deep for Words: Rediscovering Lectio Divina (New York: Paulist Press, 1988), p. 9. 9 Michael Casey, Sacred Reading: The Ancient Art of Lectio Divina (Liguori, Mo.: Triumph Books, 1996), p. 80. 10 Charles Cummings, Monastic Practices (Kalamazoo: Cistercian Publications, 1986), p. 8. 11 Elizabeth Canham, Praying the Bible (Cincinnati: Forward Movement Publications, 2001), p. 33. 12 Quoted in Columba Stewart, Prayer and Community: The Benedictine Tradition, Traditions of Christian Spirituality, ed. Philip Sheldrake (Maryknolh Orbis Books, 1998), p. 34. 13 Carroll Stuhhnueller CP, "Psalms," in HarperCollins Bible Commentary (rev. ed.), ed. James Mayes (HarperSanFrancisco, 2000), p. 420. 14 John Kselman and Michael Barrd, "Psalms," in New Jerome Biblical Commentmy (Englewood Cliffs: Prentice Hall, 1990), p. 537. 15 Kselman and Barrd, "Psalms," p. 537. 16 Stuhlmueller, "Psalms," p. 420. 17 Stuhlmueller, "Psalms," p. 420. is Westermann, Praise, p. 170. 19 Westermann, Praise, pp. 169, 170, and 181. 20 Dom Marmion, cited in Hall, 7b0 Deep for Words, p. 44. 21 Hall, 7bo Deep for Words, p. 9. 22 Mario Masini, Lectio Divina: An Ancient Prayer That Is Ever New, trans. Edmund C. Lane (New York: Alba House, 1998), p. ix. Prayer / Reflection Let us use the fourfold traditional approach of reading, meditation, prayer, and contemplation as we enter into Psalm 69. Review for Religious In the Spirit of Psalm 69 Come and save me, O God, for the floodwaters rise, and my body has sunk in the depths of the mire; There is no footing left in this bottomless pit, which keeps dragging me under to make me expire. I am wearied from weeping and crying aloud, and my throat has dried up like a desert of clay, And my eyes swollen shut are consumed by my tears, while I wait for the Lord and continue to pray. They are numerous, more than the hairs of my head, they who hate me, unjustly, insisting I die; They are many and mighty, who force me to pay what I never did steal, which they claim, but they lie. O my God, you have known all my follies and sins, for my guilt I have never concealed from your sight; I admitted my faults and confessed them to you, and for these you have punished me, that is but right. But that they who have trusted in you, O Lord God, should be shamed, and through me, how could that ever be? How could they who have sought only you be disgraced? God of Israel, never permit it, through me! It was only for you that I suffered reproach, every insult and shame they could throw in my face, Like a stranger to brothers, an exile from home, by the sons of my mother cast out in disgrace. For the zeal of your house had consumed me with fire; these reproaches I bore were intended for you; When I wept for my sins and I fasted for days, those reproaches were mine, and the insults were true. I repented my ways, put on sackcloth for clothes, 64.1 2005 Vogt ¯ Reclaiming the Prayer of Lament and became like a fool for my sins which I grieved; How the mouths in the marketplace laughed me to scorn, and the drunkards reviled me with songs they con-ceived. But for my part, I sought only you, O Lord God! Come and favor mb now, come and answer my prayer! O my God, in your greatness, be tender and kind! Come and show me you love, show me how much you care! Let your faithfulness come to my aid even now, lest I sink ever deeper and deeper in mire; Let my enemy fail, as you rescue my life from the bottomless waters before I expire. Let the waters abate and not sweep me away; let the ocean not cover and choke me to death; Let the depths not rise up and then swallow me down, nor the grave close around me and smother my breath. Hear and answer me, Lord, in your bountiful love, all the mercy and goodness befitting your grace; Turn your face to me, gently, with deepest concern; take me into your arms with your fondest embrace. Turn your face not away from your servant in need, but have pity and answer me quickly instead; Draw me closer and closer to you, O my God, as you ransom me back from the fate of the dead. You have known all my shame, my abuse, my disgrace, the reproaches which crushed me and wasted my soul; This disease has consumed me and broken my l~eart, and my spirit, now helpless, has lost all control. When I looked for somebody to comfort my pain, there was no one With mercy or pity around; Wh6n I looked for consolers to share in my grief, Review for Religiou~ there was no one who cared, there was none to be ¯ found. But they poisoned my food and they sickened my thirst, when they gave me the dregs of their wineskins to drink; May their tables be turned into deathtraps for them, their companions, the pits which they fall in and sink. May their eyes grow too dim and distorted to see, and their thighs never cease from convulsing with fear; May you pour out your just indignation on them, and in fury destroy all the things they hold dear. May their camps be deserted like desolate wastes, no inhabitants left who could live in their tents, For the one you have wounded, they wounded the more, with their slanderous stories of sins he repents. Take account of the crime upon crime they commit, lest they enter your meadow, the pasture you tend; May their names be erased from the record of life, with the just be not listed in life without end. As for me, in my pain and affliction, 0 God, be my help and my bulwark of strength from on high; Only let me sing praise to the Name of the Lord and give thanks for His glory extolled to the sky. For what pleases the Lord, more than oxen or bulls, with their horns and their hoofs, is. the praise of His Name! So, take courage, you faithful ones who are oppressed, and your heart will rejoice in the God you proclaim! For the Lord in His love hears the cry of the poor, and He never forsakes those who cry out in need; They are bound unto Him who created their lives, who has bound Himself to them, His creatures, to feed. 64.1 200~ Vogt ¯ Reclaiming the Prayer of Lament Let the heavens declare it, their God is the Lord! Let the earth sing His praise for its life that He gives! Let the sea that is full of the creatures He feeds praise the Name of the Lord, their Creator, who lives! Know that God will save Zion and bring exiles home! They shall dwell in the cities of Judah restored! Know the seed of His servants inherit the land, all who love Him and trust in the Name of the Lord! Joseph E. Brown SJ, Jesus Sings the Psalms in Your Heart (1980) YO Review for Religious MATTHIAS NEUMAN The Role of Scripture on the Spiritual Journey Tena lB sipbilreit huaasl lpilvaeyse odf a C vaatrhieotlyic o Cf hrorilsetsi ainn st hthe rpoeurg-h the centuries. In the immediate pre-Vatican II church, the Bible had little impact on ordinary Catholic spiritu-ality; Mary, the saints, and popular devotions held the dominant places. The Bible was certainly revered as a source of religious truth, and many good Catholic homes had a family Bible, but not many Catholics read it reg-ularly for their own spiritual nourishment and their rela-tionship with God. Students in my theology classes over the past twenty years--who have been mostly of the post-Vatican II generation--are amazed to learn that the Bible seldom played a direct role in the religious forma-tion of their parents and grandparents. Since the coun-cil the Bible enjoys a larger role in everyday spirituality, but usages still vary widely among Catholics. Matthias Neuman OSB last wrote for us in 1997. His address is 1414 Southern Avenue; Beech Grove, Indiana 46107. 64.1 200Y Neuman * The Role, of Scripture on the Spiritual Journey In a course called "The Documents of the Second Vatican Council," one assignment I give is to conduct a number of personal interviews, some with Catholics who lived through the years of the council and can remember the pre-Vatican II days and some with persons born after the council. A key question of the interviews concerns the role of the Bible in the personal spiritual life of the respondents. Their answers range widely, but three groups typically appear. One comprises those Catholics who still have little.awareness of the Bible, who do not read it even occasionally or consider it a guide for their own spiritual lives. (Many of these same people can make little sense of the lectionary readings at Mass.) A second group reads the Bible in a fundamentalist way. It func-tions in their lives about the same as it does in the lives of Protestant fundamentalists--as the literal source of all religious truth. Their interpretation of many passages tends to be simplistic. A third group consists of Catholics who have developed a significant and balanced practice of Bible reading. Scripture functions in their lives as a source of spiritual direction and nourishment. Other variations could be identified, but these three suffice to show what a complex situation exists among the Catholic faithful with regard to the Bible and its role in their lives. In this article I want to explore the connections between a prayerful reading of Scripture and the appli-cation of that reading to a person's spiritual life journey. My intent is to get at a number of ways in which the "meanings" in the Bible help people set and seek their spiritual goals and make practical decisions. Beginning with a historical overview of the Bible's role in Catholic spirituality through the ages, I move to the church's cur-rent teaching on Bible reading as a personal spiritual practice. In a final section I suggest some specific ways the Bible can guide a person's spiritual journey. Review for Religious The Bible in Catholic Spiritual Life through the Centuries Private Bible reading was not much encouraged throughout much of Catholic Christian history. Vatican II stands as a refreshing new beginning in this regard. Make no mistake--the Bible has always been crucial to the Catholic Christian tradition, all the way back to the 2nd century, when the various books of the New Testament began to be collected. But the Bible was usu-ally seen as the source of authentic religious truth for the church as a whole, rather than as reading material for individuals. In the liturgy the "meaning" of the Scriptures that were read or sun'g was usually "given" through the spoken word of the preacher. Personal read-ing for meaning and application seldom occurred. There were, of course, exceptions. In the 3rd and 4th centuries, the Egyptian desert monks used the Book of Psalms as a "manual of conversion." The individual monks wanted their reading to effect a gradual conver-sion of their raging emotions, a principal goal of theirs. The practice of lectio divina that developed later, in cenobitic life, continued and broadened this application of the Bible to the monks' personal lives, but the prac-tice was not widespread in the church.1 A second excep-tion was the use of Scripture in the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius Loyola. Scenes from the Bible served as start-ing points for many of his exercises. But here again the practice was confined to limited numbers of directors and retreatants. Over the centuries, of course, personal reading of the Bible was encouraged by particular spir-itual directors. In the late 6th century, St. Gregory the Great, in his letters, often recommended the reading of Sacred Scripture to his correspondents? But these peo-ple were generally wealthy persons who could afford manuscript copies of a book or books of the Bible. This 64.1 2005 Neuman * The Role of Scripture on the Spiritual Journey luxury precluded its use by the general populace until the invention of printing in the 15th century. Before then, not many individuals or families possessed a Bible. The cost was prohibitive. An entire parish con-gregation might have only one copy of the Sacred Scriptures (usually locked up, except for services, or chained to the lectern). When the printing press began to make books more affordable in the early 16th century, the strong connection seen between printed books and the "private interpretation" of the Protestant Reformation made Catholic leaders try to limit Bible reading while Protestant leaders--with numerous Bibles printed in the vernacular languages--encouraged the reading of the Bible by everyone. The famous Catechism of the Council of Trent or Roman Catechism (1564) made no mention at all of reading the Bible as a spiritual practice for Catholics.3 In short, good Protestants read the Bible; good Catholics did not, for it could lead to doctrinal or moral error. Another change had been gradually happening in post-Reformation Catholic circles that also moved atten-tion further away from the Bible. As Catholic leaders became increasingly concerned with "correct doctrine and teaching," catechisms became the primary ways to teach people the true faith. Moreover, since some of those Catholic teachings (on the priesthood, the seven sacraments, and the Roman primacy, for example) were not clearly apparent in the Bible itself, catechisms became the immediate basis of instruction, without, of course, claiming to replace the Bible. In the long period between the close of the Council of Trent (1563) and the opening of the Second Vatican Council (1962), Catholics were sometimes counseled against reading the Bible personally. A New Perspective The Dogmatic Constitution on Divine Revelation Review for Reli~ous (Dei Verbum) of Vatican II stands, therefore, as a strikingly new statement of the Catholic Church. It encourages ordinary believers to read the Bible regularly for their spiritual nourishment. Chapter 6, "Sacred Scripture in the Life of the Church" (§§21-26), forged a new direc-tion for Catholic spirituality. How that chapter came to be is an amazing story.4 The preliminary schema of the constitution contained warnings about laypersons read-ing the Bible. They were reminded to approach the sacred text with the church's teaching in mind and with careful preparation. They were to be ready to accept willingly any definite assertions of meaning the magis-terium made about individual passages.5 There was no mention of personal.spiritual nourishment. Two factors seem to have brought about the radical shift that occurred in the writing of this chapter of the document. The first was the comments and testimony of several Protestant observers about their own personal and communal church experiences of Bible reading and the many spiritual benefits it brought to people/The second factor was a principle from the patristic era, one that had slipped out of modern Catholic awareness, the strong parallelism between Sacred Scripture and the Eucharist. Several Catholic theologians had persuasively brought this idea to the committee's attention. In the end the drafting committee included a strong encour-agement of Scripture reading for believers' personal spir-itual benefit. This decision ranks as one of the major achievements of the council. Let us review this pivotal chapter, "Sacred Scripture in the Life of the Church."7 It begins by noting that Scripture along with Tradition is the supreme rule of the church's faith (§21). But then the text goes on to assert that the word of God also serves as "strength for faith, food for the soul, and a pure and lasting fount of 64.1 200~ Neuman ¯ The Role of Scripture on the Spiritual Journey spiritual life" (§21). This reading is for all believers. "Access to Sacred Scripture ought to be wide open to the Christian faithful" (§22). There are no restrictions. This practice is not limited to the clergy and to scholars, but is for everyone. Church leaders are to see that ade-quate translations in vernaculhr languages are available for the faithful (§22). Preachers, patristics schol-ars, exegetes, hnd catechists are to help people under-stand God's word (§23). The ordinary faithful them-selves are encouraged to pick up the Bible and read: "Let them go gladly to the sacred text itself, whether in the sacred liturgy, which is full of the divine words, or in devout reading, or in suitable programs and various other helps" (§2 5). Here the council fathers begin claim-ing Scripture reading as a spiritual practice for the Catholic Church. This section of Dei Verbum ranks among the more important of the council's pastoral decisions, because it led to many changes in the practical spiritual life of the church. Soon after the council, dioceses and publishing houses began to develop "biblical study programs" for groups and parishes. Interest in these programs ran high and gave many lay Catholics their first real familiarity with the sacred texts. Renew, the Little Rock Bible Study, the Paulist Press Bible program, and other endeavors began to make the Catholic faithful better acquainted with the Old and New Testaments as a resource for liv-ing their faith. Small neighborhood groups started meet-ing regularly to read and discuss the Bible. The spiritual How do We experience, preachers, patristics scholars, exegeteS, and catechists helping people under tand God's word? Review for Religious lives of innumerable Catholics were deeply affected by these developments. Almost thirty years after the council, the Pontifical Biblical Commission issued a document to assist such developments. Although this document, The Interpretation of the Bible in the Church, is intended primarily for schol-ars, it has several pages that are relevant to us.8 Its sec-tion IV, "The Interpretation of the Bible in the Life of the Church," advances beyond Dei Verbum. First, it iden-tifies a specific purpose of reading the Scriptures spiri-tually, a purpose it calls "actualization." Actualization means putting the meaning of the Bible into action as a value or norm of behavior. It is not sufficient to read the Bible and merely understand its meanings; those mean-ings must begin to make a difference in how the reader perceives, judges, and acts as a believing Christian. Second, actualization presupposes a correct exegesis (explanation) of the text, part of which is the determin-ing of the literal sense--what the historical writers intended to communicate in their time, place, and cul-ture. Rejected here is any literary theory or assumption that the only real meaning is what the text immediately means to each reader. There is, however, a recognition that every text contains more meanings than the literal one; the richness of a written text is not limited by the lit-eral sense alone.9 This richness is part of the spiritual guidance of Sacred Scripture. The document recom-mends especially the Scriptural texts used in the liturgy as excellent for both personal and communal reflection. Finally, the document promotes the ancient monas-tic practice of lectio divina (divine reading), which is "a reading, on an individual or communal level, of a more or less lengthy passage of Scripture, received as the word of God and leading, at the prompting of the Spirit, to meditation, prayer, and contemplation.''~° We have come 64.1 200Y Neuman * The Role of Scripture on tbe Spiritual Journey a long way from the wariness of pre-Vatican II days, with its warnings about the dangers of false interpretation. Applying the Bible's Meanings to Personal Life We can now proceed to three specific ways of read-ing Sacred Scripture as nourishment or companion on our personal spiritual journeys. The first way is to exam-ine and apply the large patterns and themes which the books of the Bible offer. This knowledge can guide or challenge us into new areas of faithful Christian living. Sometimes these patterns will be quite obvious, for exam-ple, Job's struggle with God's justice. Sometimes a sec-ondary book can help us get off to a good start on one or another biblical theme. Andrew Ryder's Follo~ving Christ: Models of Discipleship in the New Testament can help us discover the various ways in which the following of Christ is depicted .in the New Testament and might be pursued today.~ Afterwards we will be ready to read and understand various suggested passages of Scripture more carefully. I have used this book in spiritual-direction ses-sions; it has helped people find a pattern of discipleship that fits their own life circumstances. In Matthew's Gospel, discipleship is expressed in community building; a beginning parish minister found in that Gospel a sense of direction for his spiritual jour-ney. Luke's Gospel sees discipleship more as an individ-ual stance in a large society; a young adult new to a large city reflected and prayed over that Gospel as a welcome way of maintaining strong faith in an unfamiliar setting. Another example of large Scriptural patterns guiding people's faith would be the contrasting Christologies of the Gospels of Mark and John. For those with too "divine" an image of Jesus, reading Mark slowly and meditating on its descriptions of Jesus' weaknesses and struggles can help towards appreciating the full down-to- Review for Religious earth humanness of Jesus (3:20-30; 6:1-6; 7:14-23; 8:16- 21; 11:12-21). On the other hand, John's Gospel will definitely strengthen people's view of the divine nature of Jesus and his mission (1:1-18; 5:1-47; 6:35-58). Various attitudes toward "law" are reflected in the writings of Paul and Matthew. For people struggling to overcome a paralyzing sense of law, Paul's letter to the Galatians high-lights Christian freedom, especially 5:13-26. That passage was of great importance in my own spiritual maturation as I began theology studies. On the other hand, peo-ple who need a deeper appreciation of the place of law in Christian life can benefit from sustained reflec-tion on the Gospel of Matthew (5:17-20; 12:1-13; 15:1-14; 19:16-24). Sometimes struggles dealing with anger, espe-cially towards God, are a problem. Reading the sections of Jeremiah called "Jeremiah's confessions" (11:18-12:6; 15:10-21; 17:14-18; 18:18-23; 20:7-13; 20:15-18) assist people to see how anger can change into improved prayer. One advantage of large Scriptural patterns and var-ious contrasts is that they can help Christians to be more sensitive to the differences in people's spiritual lives. Today many legitimate spiritualities exist in the church, many ways of actualizing the gospel in one's life. Instead of acting like competitors, all can benefit from a healthy exchange of ideas and practices. To acknowledge and cel-ebrate these differences and similarities remains an ongo-ing challenge for everyone in our variously pluralistic church. 64.1 2005 Neuman * The Role of Scripture on the Spiritual Journey A second method of reading the Bible personally uses individual passages as answers to personal questions or as directives for daily living. Christian history provides many examples of this. In late-3rd-century Egypt the young man Anthony, hearing in church the words "If you would be perfect, go sell what you possess and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven" (Mt 19:21), took them as addressed directly to himself. Thereupon he sold his many belongings and took up the life of an ascetic. Over a century later another famous African, Augustine of Hippo, torn by internal turmoil, picked up Paul's Letter to the Romans and read: ". not in riots and drunken parties, not in eroticism and indecencies, not in strife and rivalry, but put on the Lord Jesus Christ and make no provision for the flesh in its lusts" (13:13-14). He describes its effect on him: "At once, with the last words of this sentence, it was as if a light of relief from all anxiety flooded into my heart. All the shadows of doubt were dispelled." 12 This method is often used in modern Catholic retreat practice. Individuals or groups are assigned a passage for them to reflect on and pray over, listening for how it "speaks" to them. The contemporary spirituality movement Focolare makes a monthly practice of reflection on a specified Bible passage. Some potential problems with this method need to be addressed. People may take the ideas that come from these passages as special divine messages, divine answers to some difficulty of theirs. Such interpretations need to be balanced with other factors: discussion with a spir-itual director, prayerful reflection, practical "testing," and so forth. People need to be cautious of "absolute" interpretations, taking them as God's direct inspiration. Some of Benedict Groeschel's guidelines for evaluating "private revelations" would apply: (1) Keep all claims of Review for Religious revelations in perspective; (2) no private revelation comes directly from God and therefore none can be assumed to be inerrantly true; (3) a private revelation by definition is personal and therefore must be carefully applied and must never be considered an infallible guide in any sit-uation.~ 3 Still, this use of Scripture can be beneficial. Biblical quotations often grace calendars, diaries, and notebooks. Using them as thoughts for the day or week or month can be a helpful spiritual practice. A third method of using the Bible for personal spir-itual nourishment is lectio divina. For years lectio divina was seen as a uniquely monastic spiritual practice. In recent decades it has come to be used widely in the church. The document mentioned earlier, The Interpre-tation of the Bible in the Church, encourages all Catholics to consider lectio divina as a way of reading the Sacred Scriptures.~4 The lectio divina of the monastic tradition differs from "spiritual reading," as a practice of the 16th and 17th centuries came to be known. Spiritual reading has meant a "set time" for reading a variety of religious books. Its primary purpose is religious information. Lectio divina means an in-depth reading of the Scriptures that challenges readers to personal conversion. The text is read slowly, more than once, and its meanings are mulled over in an effort to see their application to one's life. Lectio divina demands unbiased and receptive read-ing. It demands prayer and concentration. Focused atten-tion demands discipline of body and mind, and one prays for honesty, openness, and insight and for the grace to bring them into one's daily practice. The Bible has always been the favored material for everyone's lectio divina, but that does not mean it is an impersonal generic record. The books of the Bible are the word of God, but also are the faith accounts of real men and women, and so lectio divina is a unique form of 64.1 2005 Neuman ¯ The Role of Scripture on the Spiritual :yourney listening. The reader continually asks: What do these particular words coming down to me from these partic-ular people say to me? Those spiritual experiences are allowed to challenge my own. My faith is confronted with the faith of another, and in that encounter I may glimpse my own need for conversion. As I read St. Paul's words to the Philippians, "I thank my God every time I remember you, constantly praying in every one of my prayers for all of you" (1:3), I am led to explore thank-fulness in my own life. How often do I thank God, even for my best friends? How often do I pray for them? At this point we have arrived at the heart of lectio divina. By these questions in this context, the Christian feels hap-pily invited once again to conversion; God's grace to change for the better is there. A succession of such moments becomes a conversa-tion between the Christian and the Lord, a loving inter-change between ourselves and the Mystery of God, mediated by the faith-filled words of the Bible. Many use the daily lectionary passages for their lectio. In any case this conversation with God should be continued day by day. In it we will find ourselves noticing our motives, the effects our attitudes and actions are having on our-selves and others, and the shape our hopes and dreams are taking. The Second Vatican Council blazed a fine trail for Catholic spirituality by encouraging more reading of the Bible. Many have been following it with enthusiasm, but much remains to be done. The Bible and its many stories and poems of faith have the potential to guide people's faith life amid today's formidable challenges to it. Many need to become more aware of how much they need this treasure trove of Christian tradition for their own peace and happiness. The council says it well: "Such is the force and power of the word of God that it can serve the church Review for Religious as her support and vigor, and the children of the church as strength for their faith, food for their soul, and a pure and lasting fount of their spiritual life" (DV §21). Notes ' Michael Casey, Sacred Reading: The Ancient Art ofLectio Divina (Liguori, 1995); Matthias Neuman OSB, "The Contemporary Spirituality of the Monastic Lectio," Review for Religious 36, no. 1 (January 1977): 97-110. 2 Peter Brown, The Rise of Western Christendom (Cambridge, Mass.: Blackwell Publishers, 1996), p. 137. 3 [Addressed to pastors of parishes, the Roman Catechism (1566) does, however, cite explicitly about a thousand short Scripture pas-sages throughout--somewhat like the references made on pp. 59-60 above--and quietly weaves another thousand biblical allusions into the discourse. There are some twenty-five pages explicidy devoted to prayer and eighty-five more pages on the Our Father, all of them laced with Scripture. Ed.] The ten-year-old Catechism of the Catholic Church devotes eight pages specifically to the importance, place, meaning, and use of Scripture in the church (CCC §§101-141) and seventy-five pages to prayer (§§2558-2865), with considerable Scripture weaving in and out and the Our Father given pride of place as in the Roman Catechism. 4 Stanislas Lyonnet SJ, "A Word on Chapters IV and VI of Dei Verbum: The Amazing Journey Involved in the Process of Drafting the Conciliar Text," in Vatican 11: Assessments and Perspectives, ed. Ren~ Latourelle, Vol. 1 (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1988), p. 187. s Lyonnet, "Word," pp. 198-199. 6 Lyonnet, "Word," pp. 178-179. 7 Texts of Dei Verbum are taken from Vatican Council 1I: The Conciliar and Post-Conciliar Documents, Vol. 1, ed. Austin Flannery OP, rev. ed. (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1992). s Pontifical Biblical Commission, The Interpretation of the Bible in the Church (Washington: USCCB, 1994; also in Origins 23, no. 29 [6 January 1994]). 9 This issue is dealt with in detail by Sandra M. Schneiders IHM, The Revelatory Text, 2nd ed. (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, Michael Glazier, 1999). See especially pp. xxx-xxxiv. ,o Interpretation of the Bible in the Church, p. 38 (IV.B.2). II Andrew Ryder, Following Christ: Models of Discipleship in the New Testament (Franklin, Wisconsin: Sheed and Ward, 1999). 64.1 200Y Neuman ¯ The Role of Scripture on the Spiritual Journey ~z Augustine, Confessions, trans. Henry Chadwick (New York: Oxford University Press, 1992), p. 153 (Book 8, no. 29). ~3 Benedict Groeschel CFR, ,'I Still Small Vo#e: /1 Practical Guide on Reported Revelations (San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 1993). ~4 The Interpretation of the Bible in the Church, p. 38 (IV.B.2). Prayer Litany to the Holy Spirit Come, Spirit of wisdom, and teach us to value the highest gift. ---Come, Holy Spirit. Come, Spirit of understanding, and show us all things in the light of eternity. --Come, Holy Spirit. Come, Spirit of counsel, and guide us along the straight and narrow path to our heavenly home. --Come, Holy Spirit. Come, Spirit of might, and strengthen us against every evil spirit and interest which would separate us from you. --Come, Holy Spirit. Come, Spirit of knowledge, and teach us the shortness of life and the length of eternity. --Come, Holy Spirit. Come, Spirit of godliness, and stir up our minds and hearts to love and serve the Lord our God all our days. ~Come, Holy Spirit. Come, Spirit of the fear of the Lord, and make us tremble with awe and reverence before your divine majesty. --Come, Holy Spirit. -Viterbo University-Book of Prayers Review for Religious FREDERICK E. CROWE Aquinas, Pascal, Lonergan, and the Spiritual Exercises In the Second Week of the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius, the grace I ask for in the third prelude of the first contemplation (on the incarnation) is an intimate knowledge of the Lord that I may love him more and follow him better (§104).1 That establishes a pattern. In the next exercise (on the nativity) I make the same petition in the same form (§113). And so throughout the Second Week the grace I ask for is always the same, and is asked for in the same form.2 The aim is to know Christ and so to love him. This is in full harmony with the point that the actions of Christ we have been contemplating were performed for me; the Lord's nativity and all of his sufferings leading to his death on the cross were undergoneJbr me (§116). Love follows on knowledge: to know such self-sacrificing love calls for a return of love. Frederick E. Crowe SJ, a contributor to our pages in 1994, 1999, and 2004, is editor of The Collected Works of Bernard Lonergan. His address is Lonergan Research Institute; 10 St. Mary Street, Suite 500; Toronto, Ontario M4Y 1P9; Canada. making connections 64.1 2005 Crowe * Aquinas, Pascal, Lonergan, and the Spiritual Exercises The order from knowledge to love not only stands to rea-son and appeals to our common sense; it is also thoroughly Thomist, possibly reflecting what Ignatius learned at the University of Paris. At any rate, he could easily find this doc-trine in St. Thomas and make it his own. The will, Thomas holds, is a faculty that follows the direction of intellect. Few doctrines of his seem better established than that.3 Its position in Thomist thought is further solidified by its role in Trinitarian theology: as will follows intellect, as decision fol-lows understanding, so the Holy Spirit proceeds from the divine Word.4 No doubt the doctrine is true, central, and important, but it is not the whole truth, nor does Thomism exclude other ways of thinking on this question. One other way, especially, is nowadays coming to the fore. In current literature we repeatedly find a quotation attributed to Pascal: "The heart has reasons that reason does not know," and there has been a growing movement to explore those reasons of the heart that are not reasons in a strictly cognitional sense, and do not depend on prior knowledge. There even is a kindred doctrine in Thomas: what he calls knowledge by connaturality. The context for Thomas was the question whether wisdom resides in the intellect. In response he says that wisdom implies a rectitude of judgment, and that this rectitude can be had in either of two ways: either through the full use of reason.or through a certain connaturality with the matter under judgment. Thomas gives an example. In regard to chastity one person may have right judgment through moral science, but another person who has the habit of chastity may have right judgment through a certain con-naturality with the matter to be judged,s If we turn to Lonergan, we find him remarkably reticent on knowledge by connaturality, at least on knowledge so termed: it is missing from the indices of most of his major works. There is, however, a mention in a late lecture, where Review for Religious he says, "God's gift of his love is the cause of our knowledge of God by connaturality," and adds a reference to Aquinas.6 There is also his interview, again late in life, with Pierre Robert, where Robert brings up for discussion "knowledge of God by connaturality" and Lonergan responds: "[The knowl-edge of God by connaturality] comes about through charity. No created being provides a solid analogy (St. Thomas). There is an order: a wisdom that is sapita (savory) introduces an enlightened goodwill, which yields good practical or theoret-ical judgments.''7 But let us, like good Thomists, avoid slavery to words. Under another heading Lonergan has a full doctrine of his own that achieves the same purpose as knowledge by connaturality, that in fact includes in other terms both knowledge by connaturality and the usual Thomist order. And, because the unity of this twofold pattern could become such an important theme in the science of our spiritual life, and possibly in our practice of the Spiritual Exercises, I will try to Lonergan sees two patterns ff advance in human development, describe it in more detail and in simpler language. The thought of Bernard Lonergan may not be the simplest, but I am familiar with it, and it has the advantage of being a real fac-tor in his spirituality and his theology. The Two Ways of Human Development Lonergan sees two patterns of advance in human devel-opment. 8 I propose to see them first in their unity and con-trast, and then take each by itself. There is a movement from below upwards: from experience through understanding and judgment to decision and the commitment of love, and this is the order of the Ignatian Second Week. But there is also a process from above downwards: from love through commit- 64.1 2005 Crowe * Aquinas, Pascal, Lonergan, and the Spiritual Exercises 68 ment and judgment to understanding and enriched experi-ence. This second process gives us knowledge resulting from love, knowledge by connaturality, and it is the more funda-mental and the chronologically prior process. I believe that these two ways of development have much to contribute to a science of Christian spirituality. Do they relate also to the Spiritual Exercises? That is an intriguing question, and the pursuit of an answer is the main task of this essay. We must therefore take a closer look at Lonergan's doc-trine on each of these two ways. The Way from Below Upwards First, the order from below upwards: from experience through understanding and judgment to decision and the com-mitment of love. One simple way to see this "ordinary" way, in its elements and in their coherence, is to think of the "lev-els" of activity in a court case. There are witnesses who bring their experience to the case: what they saw, what they heard, and any relevant experience they had. There are attorneys, at least two of them, with their two different explanations of what the witnesses described; they represent the level of understanding. But understanding is a fickle instrument in the search for truth, and so, third, there are the members of the jury, who have to decide on the truth of the matter: Which attorney is right? Is the accused guilty or innocent? Finally, there is the judge, who not only presides over the whole oper-ation, but must take action, imposing an appropriate sentence or declaring the accused flee. This pattern of four steps, so sharply outlined in a court case, can often be observed in the give-and-take of family life, though there it is obscured by the chaotic flux of conversation. Somewhat more systematic than conversation and less sys-tematic than legal proceedings, this is the pattern we follow in the Second Week. We interrogate the witnesses in the way Ignatius describes: What are they saying? What are they Review for Religious doing? and so on (§107). In this way we come to understand and know our Lord better and, in response, to choose to love him and take appropriate action. In the words of the First Week, anticipating the response of the Second, what have I done for Christ? what ought I do for him? (§53). The Way from Above Downwards The way from below upwards is only half the picture. As time went on and the tableau of the two ways of development became a regular reference in Lonergan, the way from above downwards emerged more and more clearly as the way most of us live our lives. Its beginning is found in children, maybe even more than in adults. It coheres with the role of love in religion and theology. It descends from the gift of God's love through religious conversion to moral conversion, and per-haps-- though this step is more academic than spiritual-- through moral to intellectual conversion. The process from above downwards, thus briefly indi-cated, is not spelled out as fully as the way from below upwards, and so for an integral picture I have to piece together remarks from various places. My procedure is similar to what I believe prospectors for gold do: panning for nuggets and discarding the sand (though the "sand" may in this case have its own value). Lonergan starts as always with the gift of God's love. On our side there is the transformation of falling in love. One no longer is one's own. A life has begun in which the heart has reasons which reason does not know. A new world has opened up. In some kind of analogy, perhaps a rather distant one, this applies also to the Lord Jesus. We have to think of him "as developing from below as other human beings and from above on the analogy of religious development.''9 Here is a sweeping view of the process. Children are born into a cradling environment of love. The process begins in the affectivity of the infant, the child, the son or daughter, 64.1 200y Crowe ¯ Aquinas, Pascal, Lonergan, and ttse Spiritual Exercises ¯ 7o the pupil, the follower. On this affectivity rests the child's apprehension of values; as educators know, values are caught, n6t taught. On these apprehended values, belief rests. On belief follows the growth in understanding of one who has found a genuine teacher and has been initiated into the study of the masters of the past. Then, to confirm one's growth in understanding, comes experience made mature and percep-tive by one's developed understanding. One can recognize these terms as fitting into one or another o~: the four levels of human activity, but note that the experience at the end of the way down is not identical with the experience at the start of the way up. The experience at the start is rather raw material, but at the end of the circle it is experience "made mature and perceptive by one's developed understanding." Implications are many. One is the role of community. It is all-important in this process that we are born into and develop and live out our lives in a community, that our insertion into community and history includes an invitation to accept the natural process of development. In that process one belongs to a hierarchy of groups and so owes allegiance to one's home, to one's country, to one's religion. Through the traditions of the group, one is "socialized," finding that one's home is an exist-ing society. One is "acculturated," learning and accepting the values of one's group. One is "educated" to become in time a fully inserted member of the tribe or clan, and eventually a participant in the modernity that each generation must create for itself and for its posterity. (The trio of words in q~otation marks recurs over and over in Lonergan.) There are further implications. Of special impo~tfince is the healing factor. The transformation of falling in" love (domestic love, human love, divine love) is a healing',force. Where hatred sees only evil, love reveals values. In one sweep it commands commitment and joyfully carries it out. Where hatred reinforces bias, love dissolves it. We see this in our Review for Religious Catholic history. Christianity possessed the spiritual power to heal what was unsound in the imperial domain of Rome. But it was unaccompanied by its natural complement of creating, for a single development has two vectors: one from below upwards, creating; the other from above downwards, healing. Of similar importance is the factor, already mentioned, of tradition. The community receives and adds to what it has received and hands on the tradition. In this transmission, belief plays a key role. Through belief personal experience is filled out.by reports from others, one's insights are complemented by insights of others, and one's own judgments--what one has been believing from childhood or in school or in college or in university or in the press--are formed within the context of the judgments of others. These two sources of growth (personal acquisition and belief) are not in separate compartments; the two are inter-dependent, there is a symbiosis. Both begin from infahcy. But only through the second does the first take one b~yond the earliest prehistoric stages of human development. Only through the first:is there any real assimilation and appropri-ation of the second. From the cradling environment of the infant to the professor consulting the encyclopedia, our lives are filled with trust and eventually belief. Applying the Way from Above. to the Spiritual Exercises I began my .sssay with the Ti~omist pattern, from below upwards, as seen.iri the Second Week of the Ignatian Spiritual Exercises. It is a familiar pattern,, arid I need not go through it again. The application of the opposite order to the Spiritual Exercises, the process from above downwards, is, however, not so simple. 'A useful preliminary is to note a parallel between the secular and the religious, between day-to-day liv-ing and the world of revelation and faith. Here is Lonergan's position on this point. "What holds in general for self-under- 64.1 200Y Crowe ¯ Aquinas, Pascal, Lonergan, and the Spiritual Exercises Where the Second Week focuses on knowing and, therefore loving, the Third and Fourth Weel~s focus on communicqtion between persons already in lovei , standing in our world mediated by meaning and motivated by values holds also when that world is transfigured by God's self-revelation in Christ Jesus. The one revelation was made to many and thereby brought about a new type of commu-nity. For that community Christ prayed to his Father that 'they all be one.' It remains that a community is one not only by God's grace, but also by a consequent union of minds and hearts. Again, it remains that that consequent union can be troubled, disturbed, undergo an identity crisis; and the solu-tion to that crisis will be a common confession of faith."1° The present task, therefore, is to apply the process I have described to the Spiritual Exercises and to our Catholic spir-ituality. There are particular applica-tions, as when the rules for thinking with the church (§§352 -370) suppose the role of tradition. But what we seek here are applications within the heart of the Exercises, appli-cations built into their structure. We ask whether this contrasting position on knowledge and love is found there, either in the form given it by Pascal or in the Thomist knowledge by connaturality or in Lonergan's two ways of development. How do these ideas enter, if they do, into the Spiritual Exercises? My tentative answer is that they do enter the Exercises and in a way that considerably enhances our understanding of the Exercises. The Third and Fourth Weeks illustrate this most clearly. Where the Second Week focuses on knowing and therefore loving, the Third and Fourth Weeks focus on Review for Religious communication between persons already in love. That is, they presuppose love, love expressed in being with Christ, being with him in his suffering and being with him in his glorifica-tion. It is "being with" that matters. Whether we are with the Lord in his suffering or in his glory is secondary. What is pri-mary is that we are with him. Thus, although point six of the exercise on the Last Supper (§197) does not mention love, it is integral to love, a love that is grateful, a love that is a return of love. We are to ponder the way Christ suffers all these things on account of my sins (§ 197). The story is told of a mother who, on finishing her kitchen chores, went out to her child in its cradle on the verandah. She closed her eyes and sat there. There were loud voices next door, but she did not open her eyes t

Issue 56.3 of the Review for Religious, May/June 1997. ; for Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living MAY-JUNE 1997 ¯ VOLUME56 . NUMBER3 Review for Religious is a forum for shared reflection on the lived experience of all who find that. the church's rich heritages of spirituality support their personal and apostolic Christian lives. The articles in the journal are meant to be informative, practica~L or inspirational written from a theological or spiritual or sometimes canonical point of view. Review for Religious (I~SN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University. by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Linde]l Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314--977-7363 ° Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: FOPPEMA@SLU.EDU Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP 1150 Cedar Cove Road ¯ Henderson, NC 27536 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. ©1997 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to cop), 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. Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Jean Read James and Joan Felling Iris Ann Ledden SSND Joel Rippinger OSB Edmundo Rodriguez SJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC Christian Her]rages and Contemporary Living MAY-JUNE 1997 ¯ VOLUME56 ¯ NUMBER3 contents 230 feature The Examen of Particulars Joseph A. Tetlow SJ proposes.an understanding of the examen of conscience which supplies to ordinary people a means and a method for ongoing conversion and growth. 251 268 perspectives Justice-and-Peace Ministry: Three Decades Plus Kenneth R. Himes OFM presents a perspective on the centrality ofj.ustice-and-peace ministry to the mission of the church today. Milestones in Interreligious Dialogue James H. Krbeger MM presents a synopsis of recent thought within the Roman Catholic tradition on interreligious dialogue and its relationship to evangelization. 277~ charism Providence: Charism and Contemporary Spirituality Suzanne Mayer IHM explores how providence figures in the life of Theresa Maxis and in thelives of us all at the threshold of a new millennium. Review for Religious 285 295 Cross-cultural Formation from a Pacific Perspective Kevin Dobbyn FMS presents his own experience, research, and reflection about the inculturation of a congregation's charism. Associate Relationship: An Emerging Sense of Identity Roberta Archibald SSJ, Joanne Bauer SBS, and Jean Ustasiewski OSF share the fruits of an intercongregational gathering of associates and vowed members whose focfls Was the issue of associate and religious identity in the context of the associate relationship. 3O2 311 insights Seventy and Counting Marie Beha OSC reflects on the interior and exterior changes involved in growing old and in relating to others and to God. APerspective on poverty Donald Macdonald SMM identifies the Sermon on the Mount as the classic source for p~oviding personal motivation in living a life of evangelical poverty. departments 228 Prisms 320 Canonical Counsel: Lay Religious as Pastoral Ministers in Parishes- 325 Book Reviews May-3~une 1997 22-7--- prisr s ~e know well the account of the first Pentecost in the Acts of the Apostles. The rush of wind all through the house and the tongues as of fire lighting on each one present recall the thunder and lightning and the fire and clouds as God's presence was made manifest to Moses and the Israelite people at the time of the Sinai covenant. Now the covenant fulfilled in the passion, death, and resurreEtion of Jesus is confirmed by this new out-pouring of God's Spirit. In the perspective of this year 1997 dedicated to Jesus Christ in our millennium preparations, we find that famil-iar stories can take on fresh meaning. For example, "tongues as of fire" traditionally signify the presence of the Holy Spirit and the gift of preaching the good news, perhaps miraculously even in the many different languages of the crowds addressed on that Pentecost day. Might we also understand by the symbolism of. tongue the word of God that each one of us becomes through the gifting of the Spirit? Jesus as the Word made flesh now joining us together in his risen self brings a new reality to all the baptized as "wo~'ds of God." Every Christian is a precious and unre-peatable expression of the presence of Christ. All the rich-ness of the Hebrew word dabar, translated as both word and deed, underlies the great hymn which forms the Prologue of the Gospel of St. John. The Word both being God and being in the presence of God, the Word through whom all things came to be and the Word that is the source of life for whatever is, the Word that is a light shin-ing on in the darkness (a darkness that can never over-come the Word)--this Word became flesh "and made his dwelling among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory of an only Son coming from the Father, filled with endur-ing love" On 1:14). Jesus as risen Word of God is uniquely the embodied expression of God, acting with all the power and dynamism Revie~v for Religious and love of God. Yet all of us Christians in our own way are not only to be seen as contemporary expressions (presences) of Jesus, but we as word (dabar) are also to be active and dynamic (doing deeds)--"love following upon love." The Pentecost tongues as of fire symbolize the action of God speaking us out as images of his son Jesus. As the pope focuses us upon the person of Jesus in 1997, we Christians are called to realize anew our responsibility of being expressions of Christ and actions of Christ enfleshed for our world. But the symbol of the (plural) tongues as of fire also suggests the kind of speaking we des~cribe as dialogue. This meaning of the symbol needs strong emphasis in our actions as Christians prepar-ing for the new millennium. Dialogue as conversation does not come easy. In our own day broken marriages, fractured commu-nities, worldwide ethnic and religious violence all attest to the fact. We note from the Pentecost experience that our under- . standing of dialogue requires a special gifting of the Holy Spirit. Dialogue as a true and necessary, element of Christian evange-lization requires more than human technique, expertise, and patience. From Paul VI's first encyclical, Ecclesiam suam, written in 1964, we become aware of some of the Spirit-filled conditions of dialogue: An esteem for the position of the other side is present, something good in the positions of everyone is preserved, and the possibility not only to enrich others but to be enriched our-selves is retained. That is the Christian attitude undergirding our evangelizing dialogue. Dialogue needs to be a part of our Christian action if we are to be word expressions of Christ. Dialogue starts in our families often torn over values and religious practices; dialogue begins in our religious community, where divisions of traditional and pro-gressive seem to serve two Christs. Dialogue also belongs to an ecumenical-movement effort in our daily dealings with friends and coworkers who worship differently from us or perhaps wor-ship not at all. We find the kind of dialogue symbolized by the Pentecost tongues only if we are people who are fired by love. The dialogue of evangelization must be modeled after the example ~ofJesus, the Word of God, the primary Evangelizer. The joy of the risen Jesus as he continues to share his Spirit with his followers needs to make its presence felt in our own desire to dialogue. Then truly tongues as of flame are upon us. David L. Fleming sJ Mlay-J~me 1997 JOSEPH A. TETLOW feature The Examen of Particulars The examen of conscience belongs to many traditions. It has been a cherished exercise of desert fathers and moth-ers, Stoic philosophers, Zen masters, and mys.tic and monastic ascetics. Over the centuries Jesuits have kept recalling, as a dictum of St. Ignatius, that even if one is too sick to meditate one does not omit the daily examen of conscience. The early Jesuits expected, and so wrote in the Official Directory.of the Spiritual Exercises in 1599, that all who made the Exercises would continue making the examen.of conscience for the rest of their lives. Down through the ages the examen has been prac-ticed in many different ways, from the meticulously methodical to special kinds of self-awareness. It has been practiced for various purposes, too, from self-.regarding to self-emptying and from sin-centered to a focus on self-transcendence. In the Ignatian tradition it has been thought of as the five-point General Examen proposed in the Spii'itual Exercises (§43). That precise exercise shaped .the prayer of Jesuits and others who have followed Ignatian spirituality over the years an'd right on into the 20th century. But, by the middle of this century, the five-point examen had, taken on the aspect of behaviorism or voluntarism, and one writer after another complained that it no longer helped prayer. Joseph A. Tedow SJ is director of the Secretariat for Ignatian Spirituality in Rome. His address is Curia Generalizia, Compagnia di Ges6; C.P. 6139; 00195 Roma PRATI; Italy. Review for Religious During the past few decades, the practice of the examen has become more current~ It became the "examination of conscious-ness" when George Aschenbrenner, in his landmark 1972 article, introduced insights from depth psychology into the exercise and indicated 'how tightly the Ignatian examen related to the move-ment of spirits. Aschenbrenner acted on a principle enunciated by Dominic Maruca. The five-point examen given in the Spiritual Exercises is meant for beginners, that is, for those going through the ejercicios leves, the brief simple exercises of Annotation 18. The examen of those who are more practiced, Aschenbrenner proposed, reached into the discernment of spirits. After that devel-opment the examen as an exercise continued to expand: Anthony DeMello designed some Gestalt practices to help self-examination. John English, in the "awareness examen," accommodated the exa-men to the way people currently perceive the self. Recent Developments Two developments during the past twenty-five years encour-age continued attention to the examen.and have motivated this article. The first is the swift spread of the individually directed Spiritual Exercises. In both eight-day retreats and retreats in daily life (also called 19th-annotation retreats), the Exercises are now offered to people who have no intention of making an election or even a serious decision, but who want only deeper peace and better order in their lives .and who look for it in deeper relation-ship with God in prayer. Historically, such exercises are what Ifiigo called ejercicios leves, simpler exercises, He described them in the first part of Annotation 18 and in the lengthy material on the General and Particular Examen. Ifiigo used these simpler exercises to help souls to a method (five points) of self-examination and a system (approach for gen-eral and particular examen) for doing it continually~ But, as far as my information goes, few directors of the Exercises today-really urge the importance of the examen of conscience. Some do, indeed, promote some similar practices such as journaling, one of the favorite ways of self-examination (or, better, of self-appre-ciation) in the New Age. And yet those who direct the Exercises in daily life and those who pyeach the Exercises to m'en and women are giving help to Christians in much the same spiritual condition as those Ifiigo helped. In Oregon, Dublin, Seoul, St. May-3~une 1997 Tetlo~ ¯ The Examen of Particulars Louis, and Naples, Jesuits and their colleagues are helping peo-ple who have no great decision to make, but who want a deeper interiorized faith-life, to have a more vibrant relationship with God and find more meaning in their lives. People like this once found everything they needed in Divine Providence and the church's vibrant practices of sacrament and sacramental. They no longer find there what. they need, and their loss must be carefully appraised by spiritual, directors. For the loss and the consequent spiritual search does not mean that they have been invited by the Holy Spirit to the kind of interior life practiced by privileged religious and the theologically educated. They remain ordinary faithful in the core of the church. For every four women who go to Central America and face martyrdom, four hundred thousand stay home. For every man given by God the privilege of an hour of quiet every single day, there are a hun-dred thousand who have to fight to find ten minutes of quiet in an ordinary day. We know that these women are politically invis-ible; are they, perhaps, also invisible spiritually? And what about their husbands? As we have moved the Spiritual Exercises fur-ther into feeling and concreteness, have we left the males without masculine formats? These people form the vast majority of Catholic Christians. They are not called to centering prayer or contemplation in any particular form, or to make retreats annually. Rather, they relate to God our Lord mainly by meeting obligation and keeping the commandments (one way Ifiigo described them). When they pray, they usually seek to know the law that the Spirit has written on their own hearts. But they need adult catechesis, b~i which I mean instruction in the interior life. We teach children the faith; we teach adults how they do interiorize or might interiorize the faith they know. For most Christians, religion--creed, code, cult--is their way of experiencing God, and directors are mistaken to take it upon themselves to force them away from that into the direct experience of God called spirituality. For them God is not dead and never has been. They still do pray for rain (unless the more advanced have taught them not to) and for help in rearing their children and sanctifying their marriages. They will never suffer a Dark Night except in the most tenuous analogous sense, and that framework will not help them to deeper meaning and relationship with God. They need other kinds of frameworks and other kinds of direction. Review for Religious These are the people Cardinal Bernardin was referring to when he said that millions do not want to be drawn into a hostile stance toward their church. They do not and cannot live on any brink, and they are not able to join joyfully in prophesying structural change in priesthood o~ marriage or medical care or social secu-rity. For :them, directors exercise the ministry of reconciliation. These are the people that Ifiigo and his first companions, and a great number of the founders of other congregations, reached out to when they helped souls. Vatican Council II, it is important to recall at this juncture, called them to ongoing metanoia. They are not the church semper reformanda--a mandate to papacy, episcopacy, and parish priests. They are the church semper renovanda. Hence, for them the exa-men of conscience ought to supply ~ means and a method for ongoing metanoia, that is, of continually growing in their graced self-awareness and steadily purifying their sinfulness. This article addresses the issue of how they might do that. This brings me to the second reason to attend to the examen at this time: developments in psychology that offer help in self-examination. I refer here particularly to recent focuses on the positive development of the ego and of the self. In particular I draw from the cognitive behavioral theories and practices of authorities such as Dr. Aaron Beck and Dr. David Burns. These psychological processes allow one to connect bne's actual every- . day thoughts, feelings, desires, and behaviors with deep character traits and conscious commitments. Obviously, these theories and practices promise to be helpful in spiritual self-examination. I am sure that the cognitive behavioral materials can be applied in more than one way. I have been using them for some time, and I will propose one possible way that,has proven helpful to exerci-rants and directees. Before turning to what might be called an "examen of par-ticulars," we need to explore three of the things entailed by the examen in the Ignatian tradition. First of all, this examen shares several important characteristics with all prayer in the Ignatian tra-dition, even with such set frames of prayer as the Contemplation We teach children the faith; we teach adults how they do interiorize or might interiorize the faith they know. May-Jm~e 1997 Tetlow ¯ The Examen of Particulars for Love. Second, since the examen deals directly with sin and sinfulness, the Ignatian examen implies a characteristic Ignatian understanding of sin that includes shame as well as guilt and focuses on sin as failure. However, third, Ignatius connects sin with ingratitude in various ways throughout the Spiritual Exercises. He once stated explicitly that all sin is at root ingrati-tude, the failure or refusal to give thanks to God for his gifts. Hence, the Ignatian examen shares with all Ignatian prayer an emphasis on the concrete existential gifts and graces of God. Each of these points about the Ignatian examen of con-science-- characteristics of Ignatian prayer, sin as failure, and an emphasis on divine gifts--calls for careful reflection. So I will take the three in turn. Taken together, these three points of reflec-tion suggest why a particular variation on the five points given in the Spiritual Exercises is proving useful at the dawn of the 21st century. I might usefully point out here that the connection between the Particular Examen and the General Examen is not clear in the Spiritual Exercises. Does one make them both together? ls the more general examen to prepare for the sacrament of reconcilia-tion, and the particular exam to help in daily life? Not even later Jesuit legislation by general congregations clarified that. I tend to believe that people practiced in the interior life ordinarily use a general examen for the sacrament of reconciliation and that the form suggested at the end might serve them for the particular examen. I can testify that it has been serving some of us very well. Some Characteristics of Ignatian Prayer To begin with, Ignatian prayer grows from and flourishes in story, a point not irrelevant to the examen. After explaining in the first annotation all the things he means by "spiritual exer-cises," Ignatius promptly points out in the second that all prayer on Scripture must be rooted in the unadorned narrative of the Gospels. Additionally he directs that retreatants begin each con-templation by locating each mystery in the course~ of Jesus' life. When Ignatius suggests materials not found in Scripture, he reg-ularly suggests history or life-story material: regarding sin he tells not only about the angels and Adam and Eve, but also about one person who committed one sin and Went to hell for it. He tells the surprisingly successful story of Three Couples which helps reflec- Review for Religious tion on genuine indifference. He introduces the incarnation with a story about the Holy Trinity hovering over the whole globe; the Two Standards, with the scene-painting narrative of Jesus gathering people around him on the sweet green fields of the promised land; and so on. Some story is commonly a presuppo-sition to entry into Ignatian prayer. You could make a successful case, I think, that those of us who were trying to practice it year after year found the five-point examen problematic precisely here. After thanksgiving and a prayer for light, we moved through a quick survey of the story of the last few hours. We found that helpful as long as we felt that the deed done was vastly more important than how we felt about it or what motivated it. But, once we grew keenly aware of the layers of motive, desire, emotion, perspective,, and habit that interweave in any single experiences, we could no longer find much good in skimming along over the deeds done in the last hours. As a consequence of this and of other changes, only a very few of us now find this quick survey helpful. Yet in the Ignatian tradition we still feel the need for story, for moving along in a narrative. Without intending in the least to denigrate the practice, I find nothing in the Ignatian tradition about sitting still for a while and letting Jesus call .attention to the day's graces and fail-ures. Ignatian practice has been a litde more active, and it focuses on story. Story here means incident (like a screeching near-accident in a car) or experience (like a. diffused feeling of anxiety in traffic). The conjunction of all of these developments drew the more mature and practiced in the interior life prompdy to adopt George Aschenbrenner's consciousness examen, which called our attention to the story of the spirits moving us during the day. All of these developments affect the beginner as well, and also those whom God calls to a life according to the commandments. In my limited experience, these also need a way of connecting their stories with their human gifts, qualities, and achievements.,The method which will suit them is unlikely to require serious discernment of spir-its and probably ought to give them a little more focus and explic-itness than the consciousness examen offers. .A second pertinent characteristic of prayer in the Ignatian tradition is this: Prayer is not an end in itself, nor even a kind of end-means, in the sense that this is where we go to find God and finding God in this prayer is what we intend. Prayer is, indeed, a kind of end in itself in some other contemplative traditions: it is May-ffune 1997 Tetlow ¯ The Examen o~Particular~ that to which everything else in the day and in life is ordered. Not in Ignatian spirituality. The first intention here is to find out what God hopes in me and in my lifeworld, what Ignatius called "God's will," and everything in the day is ordered to that discov-ery and enactment. The whole intention in Ignatian prayer, including the examination of conscience, is to find what God is hoping for and wishes and wants at this time and this place. This is one way to explain the expression "contemplative in action." Hence, in the Ignatian tradition, to find devotion does not mean to find sweetness in prayer. Richard Rolle wrote, "From my study of Scripture, I have found that to love Christ Jesus above all else will require three things: warmth, and song, and sweet-ness." Ignatius could not have written that. For him, to love Christ Jesus above all else will require these different things: to reach some sureness about what God hopes~and wants in this time in my self and in my world, to be prompt to do what I discover is God's will, and to find God in the enactment of it. I have just stated a thirdcharacteristic of Ignatian prayer in all its modes. Ignatian prayer grows along with an understanding of God's action in the world: God always creating my gifts and self, the Spirit raising my desires out of the divine love, God giving the gift of enactment. Hence, in all its modes Ignatian prayer hovers between the felt sense that God has hopes in me and the enact-ment of my own authentic desires. This dynamic tension appears in the very first colloquy in the Spiritual Exercises. At the end of the contemplation on the Triple Sin, as I stand next to Jesus fixed to his cross, I ask myself: "What have I done for Christ? What am I doing for Christ? What might I do for Christ?" I am asked, in the presence of the Crucified--who symbolizes all of God's pas-sionate, loving hopes for me and for all humankind--to elicit my own authentic desires to collaborate with Christ in his enterprise. The full meaning of this colloquy surely reveals a good deal about the examen of conscience. How I am to imitate Christ hanging on a cross? What is this imitation about? Perhaps others remember struggling with the question: Am I supposed to want crucifixion? If not, then what? In other great spiritual traditions, the person doing the imitat-ing concentrates wholeheartedly on Jesus of Nazareth, who became the Christ. In the initial tradition it is this: Christ is there on his cross, offering all of his human gifts to the Father in praise and obedience because of his love for each single human; I stand Review for Religious next to him, full of gifts from the Father, wondering what I am to do. The metaphysics of the love Ignatius describes pithily in the Contemplation for Attaining Love must illuminate this scene if we are to comprehend the examen. Love, the little prenote states (§230), is done, not talked about. And love is the mutual sharing of gifts, the lover and the beloved giving and receiving, both doing both. This is the imitation of Christ in the Ignatian tradition. Notably, it demands of us an awareness of our specific gifts at this moment so that we may share them in building the reign of God. This surely is going to make a differ-ence in the kind of self-examination called for here. Among those who have been serving God longer, this imitation requires discernment because human love as we experience it reaches not only our thoughts and feelings and behav-iors, but most emphatically also our desiring. But the church has always known, and postmodern Christians most emphatically know, that even beginners in the interior life have to examine their desiring. It is useful to recall, therefore, that discreta caritas marks any well-made examen, so that mature Christians living the life of the commandments will live good lives without Ignatian discernment. Directors who urge it on those who do not need it or cannot use it are doing them no favor; they may be projecting onto the interior lives of ordinary. Christians a need that only the more advanced feel. To do so is to break a good general principle in working with ordinary Christians (and with annotation 18). Few of us managed to explore our desires when we were using the five-point examen (except perhaps that we harped on fleshy desires we considered reprehensible). Yet examining our desires is important for several reasons: the other "standard," to begin with-- advertising, conformity, consumerism. And, to continue, at the end of this century desiring is the dynamic heart of what our post-modern culture calls "freedom": "I gotta be me; I gotta do my own thing; you asked for it, you got it." Such desiring needs care-ful assessment. But desire was of consummate importance in Ignatian prayer before this century even began. The most com-mon phrase in the Spiritual Exercises is "what I want." The whole purpose of the thirty-day retreat is to discover What I want (§1). Desiring is the dynamic heart of what our postmodern culture calls "freedom." Ma),-a~une 1997 Tetlow ¯ The Examen of Particulars Behind this is the church's conviction that God our Creator and Lord shapes our freedom by shaping our desiring. Were we all to exact our most authentic desiring--that desiring in us that rises pure and clear from the passionate creative love of God at the core of our selves--we would in an instant inaugurate the reign of God. More modestly, if each of us kept a steady, well-ordered connection between our authentic desiring and our examen, we would have no problem with the church's leading--say, in the matter of the faith that does justice, If God our Creator and Lord wants faith and justice, then God is raising desires in each of us for faith and justice, including the middle class of the U.S.A. The problem is that we have not learned a method for listening to our authentic desires. In the Ignatian tradition that is sin; so now we talk about sin. The Focus on Sin as Failure Far from being limited to the estimation of sin apparent in the General and Particular Examens in the Spiritual Exercises, which are meant for people just beginning an interior life, the Ignatian realization of sin develops in several complex ways. From the con-sideration of the triple sin, through the noble response to the call of the King, to the "Take, Lord, receive" prayer in the Contemplation for Love--I believe it can be argued--sin unfolds both as guilt and as shame. As this unfolding occurs within Ignatian prayer, there arises, at least in people today, an under-standing of sin as failure. In the church's immediate past, we were vaguely convinced that we thwarted God, kept God from doing what God intended. With our postmodern sensibilities we now come up against more than one serious confusion in that way of thinking about sin: How can a ,puny,: limited creature contravene the divine will of God, all-powerful, all-wise, and eternal? And about this puny creature: After absorbing depth-psychological insights, we tend to feel that by our sin we thwart ourselves rather than God. Again, aware of our utter brokenness, we hold that God is forgiving us--poor creatures that we are--even as we sin. The upshot of all this is that we now tend to feel that we are letting God down, disappointing God, holding back from God what Father, Son, and Spirt. gra-ciously hope for in us and our lifeworld. This is to think of sin not so much in terms of contradicting God's will, but rather--and Review for Religious more fruitfully--in terms of failure. In my own mind (and in the hearts of many others when they speak of their grave failures) an extraordinarily powerful metaphor for sin is a fetus failing and withering in a woman's womb, bitterly disappointing the mother. We are such a failure in God when we sin. Why failure? Well, Christian iconography, for one thing: the prophet telling'David, "You are that man"; the Magdalen's seven devils; the seated figure in Michelangelo's "Last Judgment," staring stark through dirty fingers. Failure as a metaphor for sin is not new; the church has always thought that going against our consciences, the com-mandments, legitimate laws, is moral failure. Ascetics and mystics have gone further, seeing themselves as fail-ing by not reaching ideals they had set for ourselves, though all too often they name ideals of moral behavior ("I will not judge others harshly, I will not tell fibs, I will not., and so on"). At the end of this century, however, failure covers a much broader area than morality: physical, aesthetic, political, and economic failures, career failures, medical, grammatical, mechanical, even computer failures. Many prophets about the green earth.make .lists of these failures: the air we breathe brings death from Chernobyl; the pleasures of love carry AIDS, cars suffer mechanical failure, magazines suffer cir-culation failure, and (may God avert the evil) computers are sub-ject to hard-disk failure. Every human person knows failure: a friendship fades, a position does not materialize, a debt does not get paid, siblings or children misbehave gravely. We overeat, escape into drugs, grow addicted to harmful substances like tobacco or harmful activities like gambling. We suffer physical failures like diabetes, psychic failures like acrophobia, aesthetic failures like ugliness or awkward manners. And, of course, in the end we fail to live forever as we would like, but die instead. Humankind is intimately, incessantly, incurably acquainted with failure. Some matters regarding these failures have a crucial bearing on the examen of conscience and deserve our notice. At times the failures are not willful, but are sin handed down to us from our forebears. At other times we seem to fail by error or through tiredness, but on closer examination we find the failure hiding some habit or quality or personality trait that needs our atten- Humankind is intimately, incessantly, incurably acquainted with failure. IWlay-~tnne 1997 Tetlow ¯ The Examen of Particulars tion. And at other times, of course, we suffer one or another of myriad failures because of our own sin. Humankind even tends to believe that certain specific failures are accounted for by sin: lep-rosy and blindness among the Jews of Jesus' day, AIDS among the Christians of our day. "Who sinned, this man or his parents, that he is blind?" We are not likely to shake that belief because it is partially true. But how is it true? We have to face that question if we take failure as the metaphor for sin. We have not had to answer that question as long as we have taken sickness as the basic metaphor. And the matter is impor-tant because we have not been connecting all kinds of evils with sin. Think of a serial killer. Instinctively, postmodern humankind feel that a serial killer is very sick, inhumanly driven by uncon-scious motives to madness. "Oh, that's sick.t" cuts off any further inquiry into the morality of the murders and really implies that they are not sin. But, when we take failure as a metaphor for sin, we have to inquire further. Finally we get to the heart of the matter of sin: the original sin. We all know the larger theological truth, of course, that we are deeply affected by the original sin. But, as long as we consider sin as a sickness, we who work in theology immediately cede the explanation to the psychologists. We never get to the spiritual significance of the original sin in our own actual lives, and its truth means little more to us than the truth about Pluto's orbit. This is a crux matter in the lives of many ordinary Catholics. In the American tradition believing a truth means accepting its consequences in real life. Well, are the consequences of the orig-inal sin in my life the ones I suspect--negative self-image, neu-roticisms, childhood abuses of all kinds, compulsions, addictions, ¯ schizophrenia? How can I accept any of these, harsh as they are and even harmful? How do I put together self-acceptance and my own acceptance of God's acceptance of me with the fact that I am from a dysfunctional family, work in a dysfunctional job, am surrounded by neurotics, with whom I fit perfectly? None of us will continue the examen of conscience for long or go any deeper than, yes or no, I did or did not sin unless and until we find a way ~o give an account to ourselves of these live urgent issues. And ordinary Christians living the law written in their hearts-- much vexed with compulsions, prejudices, inveterate habits, reflex responses to advertising--inevitably face these issues. In sum, these issues are their "dark night of the soulT' and ordinary Review for Religious Christians need serious adult catechesis about handling these inte-rior faith issues (and hope issues), and they need a way of self-examination that allows them to apply it. The examen must be able to help me make this distinction: Is an experience my sin, a sin, or sin in me? The question begs for long study in a church plagued by narcissistic individualism. Perhaps, even more, it begs for some method of prayer that will allow each of us to probe the Christian self, a method available to the merest beginners as well as to someone who falls in love with God again on every starry night. In the Ignatian context, we sin when we fail to enact powers and virtues and holy desires that God is creating in us, when we are carelessly unaware of them or enact them neglectfully or refuse to be aware of them for lack of love. Considering sin as failure offers the great advantage of emphasizing simultaneously the interior and the external, an impor-tant consideration when we come to the examen of conscience. When a spring fails to bring out sweet water, the spring must be clogged or fouled in itself and the fields around it are deprived of water. When the fig tree fails to bring forth good fruit, the tree is suffering some internal disease or defect and the world around it is deprived of figs. When we sin-- it.;is extraordinarily useful to notice at this juncture in Christian history--we simultaneously suffer some internal fault or defect and our lifeworld suffers some lack or positive injury. Were I to make a false claim against a neighbor in a grave matter, I would suffer internal falseness and dishonor and my neighbor would suffer some concrete injury. That case is obvious; some cases are less so. For instance, when I do not pray according to the spe-cific gifts God is giving to me (time, desire, opportunity for min-istry), I fail to enact many of my gifts and my lifeworld is deprived in some way. When spouses fail to nourish regard for each other and starve their married love, their children suffer in ways we can now name. Clearly, ordinary people living ordinary lives need ways to connect their interior failings with their relationships and their lifeworld. Ordinary people living ordinary lives need ways to connect their interior failings with their relationships and their lifeworld. 1997 Tetlow ¯ The Examen of Particulars The Recovery of Shame Another great advantage of thinking of sin in terms of failure is the recovery of shame. A hundred years ago Freud concluded that shame is subsumed into guilt, and depth psychology has not had much to say.about shame ever since. More recently, popu-larizers have urged that all shame is "toxic" and insisted that we should s~pew it out as we would a gulp of hemlock. Both of these stances seem extreme and seem to be connected with modern and postmodern individualism. For guilt can be entirely secret and internal, but shame always reaches both individuals and society. .'The Oxford English Dictionary finds that for centuries shame has meant "a painful emotion arising from the consciousness of something dishonoring, ridiculous, or indecorous in one's own conduct or situation"; the "fear of .offense against propriety or decency"; and the threat of "disgrace, 'ignominy, loss of esteem or reputation." (Notice that this language brings forcibly to mind the language of the Kingdom and the Contemplation.) In all of these senses, shame hovers between individuals' self-appreciation and what their society considers honorable, proper, decent, and gracious. Shame has been repudiated as an outmoded burden of a "shame culture," in which what we pejoratively called "confor-mity" is maintained through the fear of being shamed. But we are mistaken to repudiate shame, for it is that repudiation (along with much else) that has given scope in our culture to narcissis-tic individualism. Guilt is connected with transgression, with breaking law or violating conscience; shame is connected with failure, with falling short of an ideal. That ideal is a ~:eality which transcends the indi-vidual self and which individuals have chosen to make their own. Hence, shame belongs in the Ignatian examen of conscience. For the examen, like all prayer in the Ignatian tradition, is connected with the magis, and the magis refers to an ideal. Even if I am exam-ining whether I broke a commandment, in the Ignatian tradition I am holding up a higher ideal than mere conformity--some kind of magis that calls me, considering the gifts I am given, at least to keep the commandments all the more perfectly. Hence, failure in the Ignatian tradition commonly means falling short of an ideal. The result of that is not guilt; it is shame, which connects me to those in my life and to my lifeworld. Understanding sin as failure, then, supports the examen of conscience in the Ignatian tradition. It does so for one final tea- Review for Religious son: I cannot know my failures unless and until I have known my gifts. This is surely why Ignatius begins the five-point examen with an act of thanks to God. I cannot know specifically and con-cretely how I failed unless and until I know my gifts in all their specificity and concreteness. In the Ignatian context, a failure of any kind (fiscal, physical, aesthetic) transmutes into sin when we have failed at what we have all the gifts to succeed at because we either refuse to use those gifts or actually reject them. Failure transmutes into sin when we fail to use gifts that we have when and as our experience and our lifeworld call on us to use them. We sin when we fail to enact powers and virtues and holy desires that God is creating in us, gifts we are aware of and yet neglect or gifts we refuse to be aware of for lack of love. This brings me to the third thing that the Ignatian examen entails. I can cover it briefly. The Stress on Gift and Giftedness I have suggested that the Ignatian examen, like all the prayer in that tradition, is an ongoing search of our life story for what God hopes in us. It entails knowing our authentic desires. It results in a felt sense that a given act or experience is holy or sin-ful and, if sinful, whether the sense is of guilt or shame or the sorrowful playing out of sin in ourselves. Above all, this examen grows from a graced union with an active God. Nowhere in the Ignatian tradition is God so transparently active as in the Contemplation for Love. There the focus on what God wishes me to do, and on how God's wishes come to be expressed in my self ontologically, emerges in an almost fiery con-centration on the gifts that God continually shares with us in the created world. The one praying recounts the gifts, then God's presence in the gifts, and then God's present action in them and finally embraces the gifts and their enactments as a share in God's Self. The prayer verges into being a quasi-ontological invitation to enact the gift I am aware of in order to collaborate with God in creating not only my own self but also my lifeworld. "Moral action" transmutes into a particular in the divine action--utterly holy in itself. After such a prayer, particularly if this way of pray-ing should become habitual (as it surely does among Ignatian practitioners), an authentically Ignatian kind of examen of con-science will focus on giftedness and the enactment of gifts. ~Vlay-June 1997 Tetlow ¯ The Examen of Particulars [ I The. Ignatian examen, in fact, presupposes a sense of collab-orating with God in bringing myself and my lifeworld into exis-tence and giving them definition. This sense results from the Principle and Foundation properly explained and adequately grasped. Though this spiritual sense is not unrelated to Ifiigo's profoundly mystical illumination at the Cardoner, many ordinary Catholics are able to appreciate it. We can surely come to this understanding: God has hopes and desires for me regarding my life and my lifeworld overall and even in the smallest details. Within that awareness is the faith conviction that God my Creator and Lord is creating me moment by moment. Of course, the col-laboration of creature with Creator God is totally asymmetrical, the finite with the infinite, the failed sinner with the Holy One. But it is truly a collaboration. How does God conduct this col-laboration if not by creating in each one gifts to enact, the free-dom to choose among those gifts, and the very enactment of those gifts ? The precise failure of modernity, from which we all still suf-fer, has been people's dim or even nonexistent awareness that every concrete existential reality in my life and lifeworld is God's giving at that and this very moment. Within this modernity the church has seemed commonly to believe in the rationalists' "watchmaker" God, infinitely transcendent, the first cause in a vast long line of secondary causes ending in each one of us. That belief had permeated so many. people that the First Vatican Council felt impelled to define as a doctrine of the faith that God directly, personally, as First Cause, created each human soul. The definition left problems behind it, the first of which was, What about the body? The reasons for the failure of modern Christians to keep mindful that God is always Creator are dense and many, but we ought to note several of the more obvious because they are per-tinent to the examen of conscience. We have become aware, to begin with, how human behavior is defined by genetic precondi-tioning, childhood neglect, and various abuses. We wonder--to visit this same issue in another place---how compulsions and addic-tions can be gifts. We have grown so used to noting our uncon-scious motivations that we use them as excuses. Who has not heard such remarks as ".I can't help it, I'm an ENTJ" and "Well, I'm a two on the enneagram"? More positively, we think of the self as the product of our own choices; we feel responsible for mak- Review for Religious ing ourselves. We know that we must be authentic and express our true self. Well, in what sense are the me and my own se/fgifts if I achieve them? If these grounds for our failure to walk humbly as creatures before our Creator and Lord are even partially true, we well need an examen of conscience that facilitates the connection of our gifts with our actions both graced and failed. I do not mean "in a general way"; I mean a method of connecting our concrete gifts with concrete enactments. How does my gift of intelligence connect with my failure to get a job I applied for? What responsibility have I, son of alcoholic parents, for yet another enactment of dependency? What was the Spirit of Jesus Christ trying to tell me in a con-solation I suddenly received and dis-trusted during a conversation with someone I do not like? We have so much knowledge about the inner workings of the human psy-che that we are being irresponsible not to ask, What is going on here? We once demanded of ourselves the motivation behind our behaviors: What made me say no? What am I doing graduate studies for? Why did I not tell the whole truth? We must now recognize that in every so-called motive there converge contexts, perspectives, perceptions, val-ues, desires, prior decisions, and habits. We cannot give an account of this complexity by asking ourselves, even very earnestly, What was my motive? To know failure for what it is requires that one know one's skills, gifts, capacities, abilities, habits, and so on.After all, what fails? Hence, the most helpful examen of conscience will require that I examine in detail my gifts. Not in general, not unconnected to my current experience, as though I were makinga catalogue of all my gifts and all my achievements. Rather, the exercise will demand that I inquire, with precision and thoroughness, which of my gifts, skills, achievements, habits, and so on are involved in what I am examining, for this is the way God draws me into coop-eration in creating my own self and my lifeworld. And this is how we can reach for fervent ongoing conversion that really addresses ourselves and our situations. In the Christian We need an examen of conscience that facilitates the connection of our gifts with our actions both graced and failed. Tetlow ¯ The Examen of Particulars tradition the examen has been integral to ongoing conversion; in fact, it could almost be called the expression of ongoing conver-sion. It is integral as well to growing deeper in holiness by accept-ing more and more into every part of myself my redemption in Christ. For conversion, contrary to popular image, does not mean an action done once and forever. Conversion is perhaps best thought of as accepting responsibility for my self---my thoughts, feelings, behaviors, and even my desiring--at this time and in some particular realm of human experience. Thus, a recovering alcoholic accepts responsibility in the realm of moral experience by acknowledging his own drives and needs and responding to them in Christian freedom, All of us have to accept responsibil-ity for ourselves in the realms of intellectual development, moral judgment and action, affective and emotional functioning, appre-ciation of beauty and development of taste, and active civil engage-ment for the sake of good order and justice. Obviously, we each go through many, many experiences in every one of these realms, and at each step we all are called on to take greater and greater responsibility for ourselves. That is what conversion means, and obviously it is an ongoing process. In the Ignatian tradition, conversion does not deal with the minimum. As I have said before, we who follow this tradition feel that the Spirit of Christ calls steadily to the magis. This magis, however, will never be an abstraction; the Spirt of Christ does not invite us to "holiness" or to "heroism." Rather, the Spirit calls in concrete matters one after another, which grow out of and actualize a fundamental option to follow, and perhaps even to imitate, Jesus Christ. The magis will continually involve further insight into my own thoughts, feelings, behaviors, and desiring and into how these are or are not realizing God's hopes in me. That is the point of the incarnation. The Examen of Particulars Let me recall what gives Ignatian shape to an examen of con- . science. First, any method of self-examination in the Ignatian tra-dition, like all prayer in that tradition, stays close to story. It~is about finding God's wishes in me and in my lifeworld. Or to put that another way, it is about finding my most authentic desiring, which is God's way of shaping both my self and my lifeworld. Then, insofar as it deals with sin, this examen works well when the Review for Relig4ous metaphor for sin is failure. The original sin is the failure of my humanness, bred into me by dysfunctional family, friends, society, and schools, not to mention air, food, and technologies. The fail-ure is both in me and in my lifeworld, so that when I feel it with any clarity I feel shamed as much as guilty, or even more. The typical Ignatian image is of the knight who has failed his Lord or the handmaid who has failed her mistress. Now, what kind of examen of conscience might respond to these three points about Ignatian prayer and spirituality at the beginning of the 21st century? This examen will proceed in an intimate relationship with God creating me moment by moment. It will help find what God is hoping for me to do. It will focus on experiences as totalities (their contexts, perspectives, perceptions, values, desires, decisions, habits), on things done and undergone both in their externals and in my own thoughts, feelings, and inner behaviors. It will connect external and internal events with actual gifts being created in me by God. The ~xamen will keep me mindful of what I have chosen to do for Christ, or what I believe I might do for Christ. Rather than retail a series of events, this examen will help me unpack both my successes and my failures, bringing me to feel accurately and generously any guilt I have incurred and to assess shame, the failure to reach my own ideals. Throughout, the examen will work on the basis of gratitude to God for gifts, hours, life, everything. This means that, though I may feel sharp shame because in some concrete way I have failed, I still will not allow the tempting thought to seize me that I am a failure. Here is what might prove to be a useful scheme: Always begin by recalling that God is creating you moment by moment. Each time you decide something that shapes you a~ a person, God, too, is deciding to shape you. Each time you relate to another or oth-ers, the Spirit of Christ is relating you to your entire lifeworld and creating it in you and through you. And, while you .are look-ing at the past, over which you have no further control, God is always acting in the now, the Master of history to whom past and future are present. Be mindful that you are now in God and that God loves who you are--not who you might be or could be or even should be. Let the Father's gaze rest on you in all of its com-plaisance. The examen of particulars has five moments. First, recall an incident or an experience. Second, remember your response. May-)~tne 1997 Tetlow ¯ The Examen of Particulars Third, recall which of your gifts were or mighthave been involved in this concrete experience. Fourth, examine the particulars: What was really going on? And, fifth, ponder in Christ, What comes " next? 1. Recalling an incident or an experience. What happened? Recall some incident or experience during your day. For a moment, just remember what happened. Recall an incident (an encounter, for instance, or a friendly gesture): what was done and said, by whom, where, and when? Or recall an experience (an achievement, for instance, or a feeling of fear): what happened? You can finish this in just a minute even if you jot down a bit of description. This moment is parallel to entering an Ignatian contempla-tion: you notice who was there, what was done, and what was said. At first you might take any experience that' stands out, whether holy, harsh, or hollow (by which I mean ambiguous). Often enough some incident or some habitual or characteristic action stands out as holy or unholy. You might, however, ask about how Christ is redeeming you, or what the experience of a conso-lation signifies, or what a failure signifies. After a while you may well find yourself concentrating on one kind of incident or expe-rience: on getting angry rather often, on almost always being late or not finishing things, on feeling restless or touchily anxious, on handling a new kind of success. When you note that, be aware that the Ignatian tradition has valued the examen of a particular virtue or failing as a signpost of how the Spirit of Christ is invit- ¯ ing you to spiritual growth. ~ 2. Remembering your response. How did you, yourself, act and react? Remember your thoughts and feelings and behaviors, what you did and said. Remember also what you wanted to ~do and say, and then how you felt about what happened. Take enough time to recall these interior phenomena. If you are like the rest of us, you too often let thoughts, feelings, and desires go unnoted. Yet they are important connectors to your lifeworld and to your God, and you would do well to write down what you find. After finishing these two phases, let the incident or experience, itself, rest while you turn to your own self. 3. Recall your gi)%. In every single action and reaction, you act as a whole person, interrelated in concrete ways to other.per-sons. Yet you are complex, with five senses and certain physical qualities; with gifts of intelligence, education, and rearing; and endowed with a certain limited number of abilities and talents. Review for Religious You are graced with certain qualities and characteristics, and you have realized certain achievements and developed certain skills. God your Creator and Lord has been and continues creating all of these complexities in you--or, rather, creating you in all these complexities--and they are all gifts, even your skills and achieve-ments. In any given action or reaction, certain of your gifts con-tribute or are called on. As you listen to a friend, your empathy, skill in discernment, availability, freedom to spend the time as you choose, and fidelity as a friend all come into play. Your accom-plishment with a guitar, while remaining present, probably would not come actively into play, nor your computer proficiency either. But, if you are looking into an incident of getting angry at a com-puter, that proficiency would be relevant, and your gift of empa-thy perhaps less so. In one way or another, though, you do bring every one of your gifts into every incident or experience. If you have gifts of intelligence and articulateness, you may, at the moment of noticing a fellow worker's error, consciously keep your mouth shut so as not to offend. That is to say, in any experience you will have acted out some of your gifts and not others. In the incident or experience that comes to the fore during your examen, which of your gifts were involved or could have been involved? Among your gifts, note abilities, talents, charac-teristics, qualities, skills, achievements, strengths. Take plenty of time to do this part of the exercise, and insist with yourself that you be complete in cataloguing the gifts. You may well find this part of the examen somewhat difficult; many do. Part of the rea-son is that through and in those gifts God connects you to the peop!e in your life and lifeworld and raises in you those desires which, enacted, will bring justice, peace, and love to you and your lifeworld. A plea to the Spirit of Jesus Christ for light will help. 4. Examining particulars. What was really going on? Having looked into your concrete gifts and characteristics and achieve-ments, you are in a position to see more fully (and perhaps more accurately) what was going on in your whole self. Go back over the first and the second points and examine them in all their partic-ulars. Take your time doing ~his, especially if you started it while you were listing your gifts. For what seemed a mere burst of tem-per may prove to be sinful self-reliance and lack of trust in God. What appeared a simple consolation may, on closer examination, signalize a major invitation by the Spirit to growth. You thought ~/lay-June 1997 Tetlow ¯ The Examen of Particulars at first that you were being humble, and you turn out to have been cowardly. You feared that you had failed in courage, and turn out to have exercised a maturer and deeper prudence than you had been exercising before. An action that you justified may in truth have been a failure; you acted tough when your gifts and the circumstances called on you to show greater compassion. All depends on the particulars. Realize that you are asking: What is God telling me in this incident or experience? What is God hoping in these gifts that I enacted or failed to enact? Where is the Holy Spirit leading me? How was I interacting in it with Jesus Christ, my redeemer? Done correctly, this exercise is the opposite of narcissistic self-regard. 5. What comes next? As you discover more clearly what was going on in the incident, you will come to see clearly what you might do next. So you may have to repent and have sorrow and beg God's forgiveness, or you may need to rejoice and give God praise and thanks. You may be called on to do something or to wait upon the Lord. No matter what you discover in truth, God is hoping in you, for love of you and of your lifeworld. This examen puts me into contact with my real thoughts, feelings, desires, and behaviors, allowing me to decide whether I consider them Christhke or not. Better: this is a wonderful way to open to the Spirit of Christ. The Holy Spirit can teach anxious people to trust God the Father much more readily if they have become aware of their anxiety and of how it permeates all their feelings, thoughts, behaviors, and desiring and begs for healing. The Spirit can more readily teach slothful people who have not spoken out against injustice if now they are growing aware of their gifts of clear thinking and articulateness and also aware that they are not using those gifts. These are spiritual tasks that ordinary Christians feel attracted to and can keep at. This form is surely only one of many possible ones, and imperfect at that. Perhaps it will move forward the quest of finding God in all things, even in self-examination. Review for Religious KENNETH R. HIMES Justice-and-Peace Ministry: Three Decades Plus Few developments in religious life since Vatican Council II have been more hopeful than the dramatic rise in jus-tice- and-peace activity, a commitment to the social mission of the church. Today this ministry is more diverse in style, more widespread in locale,, and more intimately connected to the ideals of religious life than would have been pre-dicted thirty years ago. Without doubt it is a movement of grace, committed people responding to the prompting of the Holy Spirit. In this article I will review the recent past, discuss the centrality of justice-and-peace ministry to the mission of the church today, and look toward the future of religious in this ministry. Regarding the response, during the past thirty years, of United States religious (particularly'men, for I know more about them) to the church's urgent calls to social ministry, I offer not a care-ful chronological reconstruction of issues and develop-ments, but rather a personal reflection that is intended to provoke further reflection and also discussion. Kenneth R. Himes OFM, professor of moral theology at the Washington Theological Union, has held, as visiting professor during this school year, the McKeever Chair of Moral Theology at St. John's University in Jamaica, New York. Originally the keynote speech at CMSM's justice-and-peace conference in August 1996, this article--here modified and shortened--appeared in the fall 1996 issue of CMSM Forum. The author may be addressed at 6896.Laurel Street; Washington, D.C. 20012. " perspectives May-3~une 1997 Himes ¯ Justice-and-Peace Ministry Foreign Missions and the Social Mission of the Church The foreign missionary work of religious underwent great rethinking as a result of the theologies of revelation, grace, and church that scholars produced in the 1950s and 1960s. After Vatican Council II there was a need to rearticulate the nature and purpose of foreign missionary activity. Not everyone was able to do that as adequately as had been hoped, and the result was that younger religious felt a diminishing interest in the missions. Moreover, many foreign missionaries returned to the States, some-times with a sense of what came to be called "reverse mission," that is, the intent of communicating to people in the United States how Latin Americans, Asians, and Africans saw us. I think that those who took up the task of "reverse mission" were mostly religious who had worked in Central and South America. This was partly because the United States has great influence there and partly because the Latin American church was quicker to develop and give voice to a local theology that did not merely adopt the basic themes of Vatican II, but adapted the conciliar vision to the Latin American reality. Thus missionaries returning from Latin America came back to the United States with a perspective and orientation that was self-consciously dif-ferent from the North American outlook. Throughout the 1960s and 1970s, some of the most prominent religious dedicated to justice-and-peace activities in the States had previously spent time abroad in the missions. Frequently they were more critical of the United States than their fellow religious and were quicker to devote themselves to the social mission of the churcli. Their influence has been enormous and has brought both strengths and weaknesses to the development of justice-and-peace work in the U.S. church. The "reverse mission" people were prophetic, able to distance themselves from the conventional wis-dom of U.S. society, and they were able to expose the dark side of a Catholicism that had become comfortably suburban and middle-class. The judgments made about the United States sometimes seemed harsh, even radical, but they were an important counter-weight in a church that was less and les~' a blue-collar, urban, eth-nic population and more and more a white-collar, assimilated, suburban middle class. A major benefit provided by foreign missionaries to religious communities in particular and the U.S. church in general was an Review fim Religious awareness of the international nature of Catholic justice-and-peace~ activity. Questions of economic development in poor nations, economic colonialism, the behavior of multinational cor-porations, Central American politics, apartheid, the plight of refugees--these and many other issues came into the rec-room and dining-room conversations of religious communities because of foreign missionaries' experience of a world much larger than the local parish, retreat house, school campus, or shrine church. A more ambiguous aspect of the global awareness of foreign missionaries was their inclination to adopt the philosophical and theological categories of liberation theology. By helping to intro-duce this vitally important theological and pastoral movement to the U.S. church, the returning missionaries expanded the theo-logical conversation within our nation. In the 1960s and 1970s, many North American Catholic theologians were still far more engaged with the European theologies of Rahner, Congar, Schillebeeckx, K~ing, Fransen, Fuchs, and others than with the voices of Guti~rrez, Segundo, Boff, Sobrino, and their colleagues. Bringing back not only knowledge of new authors but sensitivity to the life situation of the Latin American church was a wonder-ful service provided by those who performed "reverse mission." At the same time an unfortunate aspect of this influence was that many in the justice-and-peace community simply adopted liberation theology without sufficient reflection upon how the Latin American experience should be integrated with North American realities. As a result, justice-and-peace ministry employed a vocabulary, a rhetorical style, and a social analysis which could not speak adequately to the U.S. Catholic experi-ence of democracy, free markets, and liberal culture that had shaped an outlook very different from the reality presumed by liberation theologians. Of course, the ministry of justice and peace in this country must be shaped by a wide-ranging conversation with the church throughout the world, but the conversation must also be rooted in an understanding of life in the United States-- our traditions, our institutions, our virtues and vices. Another aspect of the influence of foreign missionaries on justice-and-peace ministry is its prophetic edge. In many ways Catholic social action throughout this country's history has tended toward reform liberalism. Now and then during the 19th cen-tury, the immigrant communities, particularly the non-English-speaking immigrants, took~a more separatist attitude toward Ma),-Jttne 1997 Himes ¯ .~ustice-and-Peace Ministry For many Catholics, American society, with all its problems, was not simply lacking in structures of grace. United States culture, but Catholics in this country usually worked for incremental reform from within the dominant ethos of the nation. (The most significant exception to this has been the 20th-century Catholic Worker movement.) Assimilation, not with-drawal, was the goal for most immigrant Catholics, and the church promoted such an ambition, Much was accomplished as a result. Catholic intellectuals and church leaders, although often critical, also found much that was worthy of accep-tance in the way of life found in the United States. One need only think of John Carroll, John Ireland, Isaac Hecker, James Gibbons, Peter Dietz, John Ryan, and John Courtney Murray to remember that the trend in Catholic social activism was to see the possibility of putting the two words American and Catholic together, rather than stressing some incompatibility. Returning missionaries, however, looked at their homeland somewhat from the perspective of outsiders. Influenced by their foreign mission experience and by the theology of liberation, such missionaries offered a harsher and more radical analysis than many U.S. Catholics had previously considered. Aligning themselves with the voices of Dorothy Day, Thomas Merton, and others who had become alienated by the Vietnam War, an important segment of the justice-and-peace communRT strongly opposed the United States policy. But most American Catholics never embraced the more radical critics of society such as James Groppi, Dan and Phil Berrigan, and Merton. This was so, I believe, not because of shallow faith or lack of virtue on the part of the majority, but because of its different experience. For many Catholics, American society, with all its problems, was not simply lacking in structures of grace. Justice-and-peace ministries that assumed an emphasis on countercultural strategies did not capture the full experience of those Catholics, who found in this society elements of God's gracious presence as well as human sinfulness. The upshot, though not intended, was a certain elitism in justice-and-peace ministry, a belittling of middle-class Catholics and their alleged vices of consumerism, racism, nationalism, and parochialism. No doubt the prophetic or countercultural element of jus-tice- and-peace ministry did shake the taken-for-granted world of Review for Religious many Catholics in this country. Although they had not been indif-ferent to the situation of other nations or peoples, U.S. Catholics were challenged by those in reverse mission and by other harsh critics of our society to consider the ways in which the United States was complicitous in the suffering felt by many on our planet. The call to conscience provoked some anger, but also much salutary soul-searching among faithful people, and helped prevent American Catholics from becoming too uncritical in their assimilation. In addition, many missionaries returning from poor coun-tries came home with a renewed appreciation for simple living. Living in countries where material conditions were harsher than in the United States gave foreign missionaries the opportunity to rethink the distinction between being and having, between what is necessary and what is luxury. Their example of simple liv-ing inspired many fellow religious and many lay people to link lifestyle issues with political commitments and to rediscover the social implications of asceticism so as to connect self-discipline with social solidarity. Spirituality and Justice-and-Peace Ministry Not only in asceticism but in the entire range of spirituality topics, an important connection has been made between justice-and- peace ministry and spirituality. One of the early problems in social ministry was the frustration that accompanied the work: small victories and large setbacks, the complexity of the existing problems along with the appearance of new ones, time passing and social conditions worsening. Many religious discovered that justice-and-peace ministry brought high risk of fatigue, anger, alienation, and marginalization. Classmates might rejoice in being made pastors of successful parishes, others in the community were achieving success in teaching or administering schools, preachers and counselors were drawing loyal followers among the Catholic laity, but often the religious working in justice-and-peace min-istry were on the margins of a congregation's ministerial life. Out of necessity as much as desire, those religious engaged in the social mission of the church began a search for a spirituality that would support their ministry. This has led to marvelous advances in the spiritual journeys of countless religious, but it has not been easy to move from a spirituality that stressed renun- ~¥lay-~une 1997 Himes ¯ ~stice-and-Peace Ministry ciation of the world to a spirituality that is more at home in the world. Some were-not able to make the transition, and justice-and- peace ministry has had its share of religious who were unable to persevere in that taxing and unrewarding ministry or were unable to continue in their vows. Given the tumultuousness of these last thirty years, a socially conscious spirituality was cru-cial for maintaining the faith, hope, and charity that support jus-tice- and-peace ministry. Developing such a spirituality, however, often required moving beyond established paradigms of the spir-itual life and rediscovering the richness of the biblical tradition. Today more and more of our confreres have found the God revealed in the Bible to be more passionate, more engaged in human history, than the God of the philosophers, whose omni-science and omnipotence do not readily suggest lovableness. Coming to understand how the covenant with Yahweh and the reign of God proclaimed by Jesus were inextricably tied to .build-ing communities of justice, mercy, peace, and love has fostered a biblical spirituality that is vastly different from that which many religious received in their novitiates during the 1940s and 1950s. From John XXIII's optimism about the world and from the docu-ments of the council, an outline of a spirituality emerged which was more incarnational and more personal. No'longer was the image of the holy religious one who fled the world and strove to be angelic, for now holiness was to be found in the world: the spiri-tualities we embraced encouraged us to be more human, not less so. In many communities it seems that those engaged in social ministry are also the ones who have taken the call to holiness most seriously. Frequently the social activists in the congrega-tion are keenly interested in living in intentional communities with regular times of communal prayer. Retreats, directed and preached, have in recent years concentrated on topics like faith and justice, a spirituality of peacemaking, living the gospel in an affluent culture, and seeking God in everyday activities. More and more religious are interested in preaching on justice and peace. Since the late 1980s, interest in the environment has iadded another rich strain to spirituality: appreciation of the beauty of creation becomes a revelation of God, and reverence for creation a way of showing reverence for God. Over the last thirty years, relating the social mission of the church to one's personal search for God has occasioned significant writing, and any number of books and articles take as an axiom that the journey inward and outward Review for Religious are not at cross purposes, but are thoroughly intertwined. Religious today are much better able to integrate their desire for God with their quest for a more just, peaceful, and sustainable world. The Role of Religious and the Role of the Laity When religious took up the challenge of renewal following Vatican II, there was an energy and an air of excitement. People began to see the possibilities of new ministries and new ways of serving in old ministries. The call to read the signs ofthe times led religious to seek out new forms of social work, political activism, and community organizing. Encouraged by documents like the 1971 Synod's statement Justice in the World and Paul VI's Call to Action, religious involved in justice-and-peace ministry saw themselves as being faithful to the council's vision of the rela-tionship of church and world. Among the positive consequences of such a development was the public witness of many religious to the church's commitment to building a more just and peaceful world. As vowed religious gave themselves generously to the social mission of the Catholic community, they constituted a living rebuttal to those who looked upon religion as a retreat from the world and a shirking of the responsibility caring for the political, economic, and cultural dimensions of human existence. The presence of religious in many roles previously viewed as "worldly" occasioned a reevaluation of ways of distinguishing between sacred and secular and elicited new appreciation for the religious depth of activity that heretofore had been seen as simply secular. In addition, a great benefit of this outward thrust in mission beyond the institutional boundaries of the church to the wider society was that it led relig!ous into much greater collaboration with the laity. The pre-Vatican II church, of course, also con-sisted of clergy, religious, and laity working together. Even in the heyday of vocations to consecrated life, the large Catholic network of social-welfare programs, schools, and hospitals involved, work-ing partnerships between religious and the laity. Yet it is true that, during the last three decades, there has been increased contact between religious and lay people, more egalitarian styles of shared ministry, and a sharpening of skills f~r collaborative ministry. At the same time, however, religious have been subtly tempted to assume leadership in places where lay people might be expected May-June 1997 Himes ¯ .~tice-and-Peace Ministry to come to the fore, as encouraged by the council document Apostolicam actuositatem, with its desire that lay people carry the gospel into public life. By reason of their large numbers and var-ied experience, lay people are best suited to be the leaven in busi-ness, politics, the arts, education, social service, and other such endeavors. But in recent years it is still religious communities that have sponsored many justice-and-peace centers, newsletters, programs, and activities through which the church strives to engage the wider world, That many religious took the lead in such activity reflects well upon their dedication and creativity, but perhaps it was time to leave ways open for many more lay. people to do such creating and leading. The high profile of religious in the church's justice-and-peace work is related to the more radical and elitist aspects of the min-istry that I pointed out above. As outsiders to much of the work-ings of secular society and as people expected to have less concern about career and salary, religious could afford to be. more harsh in their judgments about secular institutions. Lay people, in con-trast, were generally more attuned to the ambiguity of the busi-ness world and less prone to make broad prophetic denunciations of the profit motive, economic competition, and material success; There is surely truth in the claim that, during the last thirty years, religious in justice-and-peace ministry were considerably more critical of United States society than their parents, siblings, nephews, and nieces among the Catholic laity. Thus the formu-lations of problems and the suggested solutions did not engage lay people the way they did religious. As justice-and-peace ministry draws more upon the talent and experience of lay people, we may witness in it a different tone and style. Parochial Ministry and the Charism of Religious Perhaps no development in contemporary.religious life has been more important than the response to the council's affirma, tion that "institutes have their own proper characters and func-tions. Therefore the spirit and aims of each founder should be faithfully accepted and retained" in the renewal efforts of reli-gious (Perfectae caritatis, §2). The past thirty years have seen an onslaught of historical research, publication, and discussion by and for religious trying to ascertain their charism as manifested in their founders' lives and writings. Revlew for Religious Is there any religious institute today that does not work more self-consciously than a few decades ago at understanding and pass-ing on its charism? Less and less is it valid to talk about religious generically, for the distinctive charisms of monastic, mendicant, and ~apostolic communities (to name just three ways of describing religious) cannot be lumped together. And diversity is the case even within these categories~ as Carmelites, Dominicans and Franciscans--mendicants all--would attest. The rediscovery of the various communities' specific charisms occasioned a rethinking of the religious priesthood. The Jesuit historian John W. O'Malley has suggested that the theology of priesthood widely held after the council was inadequate to the complexity of the tradition of religious life within the church (Tradition and Transition, chap. 6). Many commentators on Vatican II have noted that it talked about Christ in the classical threefold schema of priest, prophet, and king. These last two images expand priestly identity beyond a narrow cultic understanding, retrieving the ministry of the word and pastoral leadership as elements of the ordained minister's identity. So far so good, but, as O'Malley sug-gests, this is still too narrow a view. The teaching of Vatican II rests on an assumption about the unity of the priesthood that is not historically accurate. In speak-ing of priestly ministry, Presbyterorum ordinis images (1) a stable community of faith and practice, (2) a parish setting, and (3) a specific hierarchical union with the local bishop. In other words, the document presents the diocesan priesthood as the norm or the theme, and other modes of priestly ministry as variations on it. Inasmuch as, at the time of the council, one-third of all the ordained ministers in the church were religious, this was a large assumption. One of its consequences is that Perfectae caritatis treats religious profession as an issue of lifestyle--discussing spiritual-ity, vows, and discipline, but ignoring ministry. Religious men have experienced lately a growing disen-chantment with the relegation of their religious vocation to a lifestyle question. They have begun discussing what formative influence their particular charism has on ministry. It has become apparent that the Vatican II approach is insufficient to account for the experience of thousands of ordained religious. The founders of religious communities were charismatic fellows whose ministry flowed, not from their official position, but from their reading of'the pastoral need and a sense of personal inspiration. Himes ¯ ffustice-and-Peace Ministot Pi'iestly ministry for religious is broad; it takes forms of pastoral care that are devised to meet the spiritual needs of people. Often such ministry was exempt from direct episcopal super-vision and beyond diocesan structures and boundaries. For exam-ple, in many religious institutes it was the various ministries of the word--preaching, teaching, lecturing, spiritual direction, direct-ing retreats, publishing books, and ministering to non-Cfitholics as well as to the faithful--that were the normal ministries for reli-gious priests. In many cases, this took ordained religious beyond the walls of the church and even of Christian soci-ety. Priestly ministry for religious is broad; it takes forms of pastoral care that are devised to meet the spiritual needs of people, needs that can appear marginal to the ordinary pastoral tasks in a parochial community. For that very reason, a variety of religious communi-ties have never seen caring for parishes as central to their work. Many ordained religious carry out their ministry, not in a parochial setting, but in a classroom, a retreat house, or an out~each center in some domestic or foreign mission area. In short, the model is not that of preaching to a largely stable community of believers, but of spreading the gospel by means of occupations and tasks that make contact with people in ways that are beyond the ordinary parochial structures of a diocese. Although we all know that there is a shortage of ordained min-isters for parishes throughout the nation, this does not mean that religious should become stopgaps. They should continue to offer their own pastoral assessment of how to serve the people of God consistent with their charism. This may require less, not more, parochial involvement. The social mission of the church may be the most important ministry to which religious ,should attend--and one which may receive less and less attention from the secular clergy as they find themselves stretched thin to meet the needs of American Catholicism's extensive parochial structures. As religious have sought to clarify their identity ,during these last thirty years, they have gradually realized that the charisms of religious life may lead them in directions quite different from those of the local diocesan presbyterate. Am I a religious first or a priest first? is a bad question. The proper question is how rain- Review for Religious istry and religious life permeate and shape one another. How does a man's religious vocation color or inflect his ministry as an ordained person, and vice versa? If what has been said is true for ordained religious, it should clearly be the case for lay religious. Reconsidering institutional commitments has often been painful and even divisive. Just as ordained religious have at times taken their cue more from the local diodese than from their community's tradition and charism, so too have lay religious. In some instances, the staffing of dioce-san schools has been analogous to the staffing of diocesan parishes. The issues of a community's corporate institutional commitments vis-a-vis its charism can seem to be a minefield, and the movement of religious out of other ministries into justice~and-peace endeaw ors has often been the occasion for a minor explosion. Yet the process of renewal continues, and the interest that religious have taken in the church's social mission has been strengthened by renewed appreciation of the charisms of various religious com-munities. The Centrali~ of the Social Mission A striking feature of the history of the church's social mis-sion is that it was seen as the generosity of its heart, but not always as a requirement of its nature. The theological reflection in Vatican II's Gaudium et spes and in later documents such as Justitia in mundo and Evangelii nuntiandi have shown how justice-and-peace ministry and the religious mission of the church are con-nected. This essential religious mission has been expressed in our time as evangelization: "Evangelizing is in fact the grace and voca-tion proper to the church, her deepest identity" (Evangelii nun-tiandi, §14). As Paul VI explains, evangelization is a process, a vital part of which is entrance into the community. People cannot simply be preached at or lectured to on Catholic doctrine; they must be brought into a community of faith. Such a community has a distinct pattern of behavior, a way of life. In its earliest years Christianity was known as "The Way" because it was seen to be about living a certain way of life, becom-ing part of a particular community. The gospel must be a word that transforms. As evangelizers, we must bring people into an active Christian community. In other words, faith entails not only attitudes and ideas but also commitments. The community that is May-J~ne 1997 Himes ¯ Justice-and-Peace Ministry Christian must be a community of witnesses. Without witnesses, evangelization fails. We are to witness to the very thing that Jesus was committed to: the reign of God. The Lord's proclamation of the reign of God was the good news. However, it is not enough simply to know and speak the gospel message. Ministry cannot be a matter of "Here's your answer and, by the way, what was your question?" If the community of witnesses, namely the church, is to minister effectively, we must attend to people's immediate concerns and show how faith in Jesus speaks to those concerns. Years ago the old Critic magazine had a pertinent cartoon. A handsome, sharply dressed cleric is speaking to a woman in her liv-ing room. Standing there in a tattered housedress, hair curlers tumbling over her forehead and ears, she is ob'~iously pregnant. Two little children tug at the hem of her dress; her husband in a T-shirt lies belly-up on the sofa, surrounded by beer cans. Laundry is piled in the corner, and in the background pots boil over on the stove. The dog is chasing the cat. The smiling priest looks down at her weary face and says, "Now remember, Agnes, the Christian is an Alleluia from head to toe!" None of us will deny that faith is a reason for genuine joy. But Father's way of conveying the good news is, well, not good. We laugh or smile at the incongruities. But we realize that the reality of it hurts, that the perennial danger of religious language is using it cheaply, without having our human heart in it. Gustavo Guti6rrez puts the challenge graphically: "How are we to preach the gospel with any credibility to that two-thirds of humanity which goes to bed each night hungry, ill-housed, chron~ ically ill, and without hope for the political and material improve-ment of their lives? What can the phrases 'God is love' or 'redemption from the yoke of sin' possibly mean to them?" It is not enough to tell the good news while people are enveloped in conditions that deny the very dignity we tell them is theirs. We know that there is a here-and-now dimension to the reign of God--for present-day Christians, just as there was for the One who went about doing good in Galilee and Judea. Yet we also know that the reign of God is not here in. all its fullness. Woody Allen once said: "The lion may lie down with the lamb, but the lamb isn't going to get much sleep!" We find ourselves in a state of tension; we live in the between times. The reign of God is here ¯ . . not yet. If God's reign is here as well as not yet, then it is Review for Religious linked to history. Like Jesus himself, the reign must be incarnated and enter into the human drama. Moreover, Jesus invites us to have the same relationship with God that he has--to be sons and daughters of the Father. This implies being brothers and sisters to one. another, not only in our interior attitudes, but also in our conduct--or else it is a pious nonreality. In order to be faithful to Christ, the church must witness to both the here-and-now and the not-yet dimensions of the reign of God, but my concern in these remarks is the here and .now. For the church to be like its Lord, the community of Christians must be the agent on earth of the reign of God, incarnating in his-tory a state of life characterized by relationships of justice, peace, forgiveness, love. In a word, the task of the church is to bring about liberation. Liberation, as properly understood in Catholic the-ology, is similar to the classical word salvation, but has a less otherworldly connotation. It under-scores the here-and-now aspect of God's reign. It calls attention to the present processes whereby people begin to be extricated from sin and its effects: oppression, violence, sexism, marginalization, racism. Liberation does not presume an uncritical commitment to a spe-cific economic or political option. What it implies is the work of overcoming obstacles to human well-being. It recalls the free-dom Christ has won for all. But this freedom, this liberation, must not be thought of as simply a spiritual event. As embodied spirits we need to understand it as belonging also to temporal life. Liberation-v-or salvation, if you prefer--must mean some-thing for our lives here and now, If the church is to proclaim the ~reign of God, if we religious are ~to invite people into a relationship with God, we should help foster a way of life in which people get some foretaste, some here-and- now experience, of the fruits of God's reign. We should as a church be able to point to how their relationship with God can-- and does--transform their life. Otherwise we are reduced to promising a reign of God that is only "not yet," without any "here and now." As the 1971 Synod said, "Unless the Christian mes-sage of love and justice shows its effectiveness through action in the cause of justice in the world, it will only with great difficulty gain credibility" (chap. 2). If we are committed to the great reli- We are to witness to the very thing that Jesus was committed to: the reign of God. May-Jt~ne 1997 Himes ¯ Justice-and-Peace Ministry gious mission of the church, to evangelizing our world by procla-mation of the good news of Jesus Christ, then we must also wit-ness by our actions that this good news touches people's actual experience of economic, political, and social realities. During these past thirty years, the social mission of the church has moved from the periphery of church life to the .center. In most religious communities it is no longer necessary to make the intel-lectual case that justice-and-peace ministry is valid and important. No longer do religious who are social activists regularly encounter opposition or skepticism from within their community. In fact, they are now esteemed for their ministry. But the number of reli-gious who wish to follow in the steps of earlier justice,and-peace ministers is small. Within congregations, even though the mood has shifted from disagreement to approval, the percentage of reli-gious who work full-time in social ministries remains small. As David Nygren and Miriam Ukeritis report in their study of American religious life, many religious do not find themselves personally engaged in., or particularly interested in doing, justice-and- peace ministry ("Future of Religious Orders in the United States," Origins 22, no. 15 [24 September 1992]: 264; also Review for Religious 52, no. 1 [January-February 1993]: 23). The great need, then, is to provide opportunities to acquire social-ministry information and skills. Religious generally see the point of contact between faith and justice, but not their own point of entry: Where and how to start? How to organize direct-service programs and move from there to advocacy? How to integrate global issues of poverty, refugees, war, and ethnic strife into a local ministry? How to do a social analysis of one's ministry and use it in pastoral planning? What strategies to adopt in trying to reshape major institutions of a society? How to exercise leadership in a pluralistic and secular society? There are no neat and clear answers. For successful social ministry, much knowledge, and many skills" remain to be acquired, and continuing education in this area is very much needed. Looking to the Future I propose for the sake of discussion a way to think about our situation as American male religious concerned for the ongoing vitality of the church's social mission in our times. This time in which we live--we seem unable to name it, People call it post- Review for Religious modernity, which of course is only to say that, with the passing of one era called "modernity," another is taking its place. In politi-cal life we see something similar: a post-Cold War world that includes postcommunist nations in central and eastern Europe. We in the United States appear headed for a postwelfare state with a postindustrial economy. With so many merely chronolog-ical names around, it should not surprise us that we religious lack certain clarities aboht the future of our postconciliar church. .We need to remind ourselves that the Spirit of God does not work by our clock or even our cal-endar. Other generations, too, have been confused and have had to stumble around in history before finding a pathway. Recall the Jewish people after the Exodus or during the Exile. Consider the early Jewish Christians trying to get used to Gentiles as equal partners. We can only imagine the turmoil of the fall of Rome or the rise of Islam in North Africa, once vigorous Christian regions. Compared with these things, the uncertainties of religious life in the 1990s appear less than overwhelming. In times of turmoil there is always a temptation to rush to a solution, to find some quick answer. But--of this I am convinced-- in the future few things will be more necessary for the church's social mission than the quiet determination and perseverance of religious who keep working for justice, peace, and a better envi-ronment even if no grand vision or strategy is readily forthcoming. Others may reap the benefit of the seeds planted during this time. In Robert Bolt's A Man for All Seasons, the ambitious Richard Rich is disappointed that Sir Thomas More has suggested that he be a teacher. Rich somewhat bitterly asks, "And if I was, who would know it?" More replies, "You, your pupils, your friends, God. Not a .bad public, that." Precisely such a viewpoint is what religious today need as they work for justice and peace. To my mind one of the great problems today is that people forget the importance of caring for what is near at hand, those local and people-sized institutions that provide the wider society No longer do religious who are social activists regularly encounter opposition or skepticism from within their community. 1997 Himes ¯ ~s~ice-and-Peace Ministry with its sense of community. The fate of these--families, neigh-borhoodS, labor unions, small businesses, religious comunities, and innumerable other voluntary associations--will determine the future of American life. Government can reinforce and strengthen these smaller elements of society,, but cannot substitute for them. According to Catholic social teaching, society needs a healthy, robust civic sector, a public space where smaller human communities can flourish. Today the ecology of our social envi-ronment is as threatened as our natural environment; people's sense of community is strained. But is it not true that religious, with their wealth of experience, knowledge, and skill in building and sustaining community life, have something to offer the wider society in this regard? Cannot religious men and women be among those who help repair the frayed fabric of our families, our neigh-borhoods, our civic groups, our voluntary associations? Such an approach may be dismissed as sentimental by the national elites, for it cin seem small-time. But that is one more aspect of the problem. The worlds of big business and national politics have de-legitimated local life. The world of voluntary asso-ciations and community organiz~ttions seems peripheral to the market and the government, where the talk is of billions of dollars and millions of people and, moreover, comes into people's homes via television. The megastructures of politics and business are no substitute for the spiritual, the social, and the cultural at the local level. Not that people should ignore the world of national gov-ernment and business; but, rather, they should take care that these realms support the local scene and not undermine it. Nothing that goes on at the national levels of politics and economics will improve our social life if at the local level people continue to withdraw from public space, avoid contact with neigh-bors, and refuse to participate in the social groupings that con-stitute civil society. Is it unrealistic to ask of ourselves as religious that we counter such distancing and participate in local group activities and join local community organizations? Can we not model for others the fact that life together is much richer than a life lived apart? Is not the witness of our community commit-ment a needed corrective to the present state of American life? As vowed religious we need resist a tendency to look inward and look after ourselves first as we age, shrink in numbers, and experience worries about our collective future; Precisely because such a tendency is natural, what we require is a clear outward Review for Religious thrust in our ministry. During the last three decades, many issues have prompted us to look beyond ourselves: the Vietnam War, civil rights for African Americans, troubles in Central America, nuclear disarmament, environmental consciousness, economic inequality in our nation and our world, the call for a consistent life-ethic, and the plight of children amid poverty and broken family structures. The recalling of such justice-and-peace causes of the past and present may help us religious avoid the pitfall of letting our world become too small, of letting the intraecclesial problems of renewal be the only thing that defines us. The movement for justice and peace among religious these past thirty years has kept before our eyes a sense of the gospel, a yearning for the reign of God, a not always gentle reminder that a wide world awaits whatever humble service we can render it. The social mission of the church helps religious men to be cred-ible when we proclaim, in the words of Gaudium et spes (~1), that "the joys and the hopes, the griefs and the anxieties of the people of this age, especially those who are poor or in any way afflicted, these are the joys and hopes, the griefs and anxieties of the fol-lowers of Christ." Mother (Matthew 23:9-11, 37-39) Call no one on earth your mother. You have only one mother, the Christ: a mother hen longing to shelter all who come running in under the outstretched rainproof feather-roof of his warm and welcoming wing. Bernadette McCarrick RSM May-June 1997 JAMES H. KROEGER Milestones in Interreligious Dialogue Pcaope John XXIII in his call for aggiornamento and his convo-tion of the Second Vatican Council envisioned a wide and encompassing renewal of the whole church. Today, after three decades of experience since the council's close in 1965, a keen observer can now evaluate those areas in church life where authen-tic renewal has been received, taken root, effected growth and change, and borne fruit. How has interreligious dialogue fared within the panorama of an entire church renewed for its task of mission and evangelization? Modest progress has been achieved both in mutual under-standing and in the-ongoing dialogue that is a central element of the church's evangelizing mission. Bold and creative initiatives have been taken; yet, for both church leadership and ordinary Christians, dialogue remains on the periphery of Christian life and ministry. A twelve-stop journey on the church's dialogue road will reveal milestones where growth and understanding have been achieved. At each stopping place in this essay, there is a brief description of a document or event, of the progress which it took note of or contributed to, and of the paths it pointed out for future dia- James H. Kroeger MM worked for more than two decades as a field missionary in the Philippines and Bangladesh. He holds a doctorate in missiology from the Gregorian University, and his most recent book is Living Mission (Orbis Books). This article of his appeared in Omnis Terra, March 1997. Currently serving as the Asia-Pacific area assistant on the Maryknoll general council, he may be addressed at P.O. Box 303; Maryknoll, New York 10545. Review for ReligiouJ logue. On the one hand, the church's signposts have been clear and encouraging; on the other hand, however, much of church mem-bership has been a pilgrim walking the dialogue road reluctantly. The present overview of significant milestones is intended to encourage church members to make more room for interreligious dialogue in the church's mission and ministry. Secretariat for Non-Christians On Pentecost (17 May) 1964, in the climate of the Second Vatican Council, Pope Paul VI instituted the Secretariat for Non- Christians as an entity distinct from the Sacred Congregation for the Evangelization of Peoples. Renamed the Pontifical Council for Interreligious Dialogue in 1988, it was to serve as a sign and struc-ture of the church's desire to meet and relate to the followers of other religious traditions of the world. Its task, as noted by Pope Paul, was "to search for methods and ways of opening a suitable dialogue with non-Christians . . . in 'order that non-Christians come to be known honestly and esteemed justly by Christians, and that in their turn non-Christians can adequately know and esteem Christian doctrine and life." Encyclical Ecclesiam Suam Pope Paul published his programmatic encyclical letter Ecclesiam suam on 6 August 1964 (between the second and third sessions of Vatican II). This magna carta for dialogue is the first time that the term "dialogue" is found in an encyclical, and more than half of the document is devoted to a discussion of the need, sources, characteristics, modes, partners, challenges, and goals of dialogue: "The church should enter into dialogue with the world in which it lives and labors" (§65). "The dialogueof salvation was opened spontaneously on the initiative of God: he loved us first" (§72). We "need to wait for the hour when God may make our dialogue effective" (§79). "Dialogue is, then, a method of accomplishing the apostolic ¯ mission" (§81). "The church is not unaware of the formidable dimensions of such a mission" (§95). It is also directed towards "the followers of the great Afro-Asiatic religions" (§110). We "recognize and respect the moral and spiritual values of various non'Christian religions, and we desire to join with them in pro- May-June 1997 Kroeger * Milestones in Interreligious Dialogue moting and defending common ideals of religious liberty, human brotherhood, good culture, social welfare, and civil order" (§108). Second 'Vatican Council Five documents of Vatican II contain important elements for understanding the church's role vis-?a-vis world religions (Nostra aerate, Lumen gentium, Ad genres, Gaudium et spes, and Dignitatis humanae). Some general themes are: the need to recognize within religions "elements of truth and grace" (AG §9), "treasures which the bountiful God has distributed among the nations of the earth" (AG §11), "a ray of that Truth which enlightens all men" (NA §2), recognition of the work ofthe Holy Spirit (GS §11, AG §4), the presence of treasures of the ascetical and contemplative life (AG §§15, 18), and the presence of"seeds ofthe Word" (AG §11, LG §17). The council promotes an attitude of profound respect toward all world religions (AG § 10), specifically primitive and traditional religions, Hinduism, and Buddhism (NA §2); Islam (NA §3, LG §16); and Judaism (NA §4, LG §16). It encourages dialogue and collaboration (NA §2); it is through dialogue that Christians can "receive the inspirations of the Spirit faithfully and measure up to them energetically" (GS §92). The council challenges all' Christians: "We must hold that the Holy Spirit offers to all the possibility of being made partners, in a way known to God, in the paschal mystery" (GS §22). j FABC First Plenary Assembly The Federation of Asian Bishops' Conferences (FABC) met in Taipei, Taiwan, from 22 to 27 April 1974 to prepare for the Synod on Evangelization. Their landmark document Evangelization in Modern Day Asia spoke of "the integral preaching of the gospel" (§23), "the building up of a truly local church" (§9), and the triple dialogue with people, cultures, and religions (§12). The church in Asia especially needs to engage in "a dialogue with the great reli-gious traditions of our peoples" (§ 13), which are "significant and positive elements in the economy of God's design of salvation" (§ 14); "they.have been the treasury of the religious experience of our ancestors" (§14); ?and how can we not acknowledge that God has ,drawn our peoples to himself through them?" (§15). FABC Review for Religious recommended the need to "evolve a working concept of evange-lization that embraces, as integral to that concept, genuine dia-logue with the great living religions of Asia" (§3a). Synod on Evangelization of the Modern World The short declaration at the end of the 1974 synod pro-claimed: "Confident in the action of the Holy Spirit which over-flows the bounds of the Christian community, we wish to foster dialogue with non-Christian religions, so that we may reach a better understanding of the gospel's newness and of the fullness of revelation, and thus may be in a better position to show to others how the salvific truth of God's love is fulfilled in Christ" (§11). Apostolfiz Exhortation Evangelii Nuntiandi One year after the synod Pope Paul VI published Evangelii nuntiandi (8 December 1975). Evangelization is seen as the "voca-tion proper to the church, her deepest identity. She exists in order to evangelize" (§ 14). The understanding of evangelization in EN is a broad one: "Evangelizing means bringing the good news into all the strata of humanity" (§18). "No . . defective and incomplete definition can be accepted for that complex, rich, and dynamic reality which is called evangelization without the risk of weakening or even distorting its real meaning: It cannot be fully understood unless all the necessary elements are taken into account" (§ 17). EN speaks of the church's esteem and respect for non- Christian religions because "they are the living expression of the soul of vast groups of people . They have taught generations of people how to pray. They are all inipregnated with innu-merable 'seeds of the Word' and can constitute a true 'preparation for the gospelTM (§53). The church needs "to offer to the mis-sionaries of today and of tomorrow new horizons in their con-tacts with non-Christian religions" (§53). Dialogue and Mission On Pentecost (10 June) 1984, the twentieth anniversary of the creation of the Secretariat for Non-Christians, the church published "The Attitude of the Church towards the Followers of May-June 1997 Kroeger ¯ Milestones in Interreligious Dialogue Other Religions: Reflections and Orientations on Dialogue and Mission." Approved by the pope, the document expressly places interreligious dialogue within the purview of the church's evan-gelizing mission: "Dialogue finds its place within the church's salvific mission; for this reason it is a dialogue of salvation" (John Paul II, Introduction, §5; see Ecdesiam suam §74). The document gives interreligious dialogue a broad defini-tion: "It means not only discussion, but also includes all positive and constructive interreligious relations with individuals and com-munities of other faiths which are directed at mutual under-standing and enrichment" (§3). Its main concern is "the relationship which exists between dialogue and mission" (§5). The document presents the five dimensions of integral mission and evangelization and notes how they are understood "in the consciousness of the church as a single but complex and articulated reality" (§ 13). Both local churches and missionaries are "respon-sible for the totality of mission" (§14) because "Christian mis-sion embraces all these elements" (§13). Four forms of dialogue are presented in detail (§§25-35). World D~y of Prayer for Peace at Assisi On 27 October 1986, in the context of the International Year of Peace, Pope John Paul invited representatives of other Christian churches and ecclesial communities and of the major world reli-gions to come on pilgrimage to Assisi to pray and fast for world peace. Explaining the event, John Paul noted: "The event of Assisi can be considered as a visible illustration, a concrete example, a catechesis, intelligible to all, of what is presupposed .and signi7 fied .by the commitment to ecumenism and to interreligious dia-logue which was recommended and promoted by the Second Vatican Council" (§7). He added: "Either we learn to walk together in peace and harmony, or we drift apart and ruin our-selves and others" (§5). Seven FABC Theses on Interreligious Dialogue In April 1987, after two years of study and consultation by the Federation of Asian Bishops' Conferences (FABC) Theological Advisory Commission, the document Theses on Interreligious Dialogue: An Essay in Pastoral Theological Reflection was released, Review for Religious The aim of the document was to "facilitate a new insight into the identity of the church in a religiously pluralistic world and a renewal of its mission" (§0.9). The document presents a com-prehensive vision of interfaith dialogue in seven closely reasoned theses with extensive commentary. They address important the-ological. missiological questions, consistently asserting that dia-logue "is an integral dimension of the mission of the church, which is the sacrament of the kingdom of God proclaimed by Jesus" (Thesis 2). Encyclical Redemptoris Missio John Paul's mission encyclical, dated 7 December 1990, addresses the "permanent validity of the church's missionary man-date." In chapter 5, "The Paths of Mission," a specific section addresses "Dialogue with Our Brothers and Sisters of Other Religions" (§§55-57). It is an exceedingly rich section: "Interreligious dialogue is a part of the church's evangelizing mis-sion . Dialogue is not in opposition to mission ad gentes; indeed, .it has special links with that mission and is one of its expressions. . The church sees no conflict,between proclaiming Christ and engaging in interreligious dialogue" (§55). "Each member of the faithful and all Christian communities are called to practice dia-logue . I [Pope John Paul] am well aware that many mission-aries and Christian communities find in the difficult and often misunderstood path of dialogue their only way of bearing sincere witness to Christ and offering generous service to others. I wish to encourage.them ." (§57). Dialogue a~d Proclamation On Pentecost (19 May) 1991, the Pontifical Council for Interreligious Dialogue and the Congregation for the Evangelization of Peoples jointly issued "Dialogue and Proclamation: Reflections and Orientations on Interreligious Dialogue and the Proclamation of the Gospel of Jesus Christ." The document explicitly affirms the holistic and integral nature of the evangelization process and mentions the five principal ele-ments of mission (§2). Discussing "the relationship between dia-logue and proclamation" (§4), the document quotes John Paul II: "Just as interreligious dialogue is one element in the mission of the May-3~tne 1997 Kroeger * Milestones in Interrelig~ous Dialogue church, the proclamation of God's saving work in our Lord Jesus Christ is another . There can be no question of choosing one and ignoring or rejecting the other" (§6). "Both are legitimate and necessary" (§77). There are many "signs of the times" (social, cultural, reli-gious, and political) and a religious sensitivity and attentiveness are important for hearing "the Spirit of God. speaking, teach-ing, and guiding" (§78). "All Christians are called to be person-ally involved in these two ways of carrying out the one mission of the church, namely, proclamation and dialogue" (§82). "Yet, more than tasks to be accomplished, .dialogue and proclamation are graces to be sought in prayer" (§89). Continental Synods As the Jubilee Year 2000 approaches, Pope John Paul has made known his intention to convoke and complete a series of continental synods. In those areas of the world where a variety of religious traditions are integral to people's indigenous culture and faith,.~interreligious dialogue will necessarily be important for the.church's presence and ministry. Onthe Feas~ of the Triumph of the Holy Cross (14 September) in 1995, John Paul released the postsynodal apostolic exhortation Ecclesia in Africa. In reference to dialogue (§§65-67), the document notesi "Commitment to dialogue must also embrace all Muslims of goodwill" (§66). "With regard to African tradi-tional religion, a serene and prudent dialogue will be able., to foster the assimilation of positive values . They can be seen as a preparation for the gospel . The adherents of African tradi-tional religion should therefore be treated with great respect and esteem, and all inaccurate and disrespectful language should be avoided" (§67). This is a task given to the church in Africa in ful-fillment of "her evangelizing mission towards the year 2000" (§8). The church in Asia (home to more than 85 percent of the world's non-Christians) will necessarily devote attention to inter-faith relations and dialogue as it prepares for its continental synod. The Preparatory Document (Lineamenta) notes: "God's offer of salvation to humankind is always a question of dialogue . The entire mission of Jesus was constant dialogue with humanity. The whole mission of the church is, therefore, one of dialogue. Dialogue is a part of the work of evangelization . In the Asian Review for Religious context, dialogue is of primary importance for the future of Christian mission . The church in Asia, therefore, must enter into ever deeper dialogue with the great religions." (§33). John Paul II The pope has given much emphasis in person to the role of dialogue within the evangelizing mission of the church; in his missionary journeys he constantly seeks opportunities to interact respectfully with the followers of various religions and faith tra-ditions. From his voluminous state-ments on interreligious themes, some short representative quotations are pre-sented here: "Christians will, moreover, join hands with all men and women of good will [and] work together in order to bring about a more just and peaceful society in which the poor will be the first to be served" (Manila, 21 February 1981). "Christians and Muslims, in gen-eral, have badly understood each other, and sometimes in the past we have opposed and even exhausted each other in polemics and in wars. I believe that today God invites us to change our old practices, We must respect ~each other, and also we must stimulate each other in good works on the. path of God" (Casablanca, 19 August 1985). "By dialogue we let God be present in our midst, for as we open ourselves to one another, we open ourselves to God" (Madras, 5 February 1986). Interreligious dialogue is "a Christian work desired by God" and "one element in the mission of the church"; "the commitment of the Catholic Church to dialogue with the followers of other religions remains firm and unchanged" (Rome, 28 April 1987). "Throughout my pontificate it has been my constant concern to fulfill the apostolic and pastoral task of both dialogue and proclamation. On my last visit to Africa, I met leaders of African traditional religions and witnessed their awareness of God's near-ness and their appreciation of the ethical values of a godly person" (Rome, 28 April 1987). "By dialogue we let God be present in our midst, for as we open ourselves to one another, we open ourselves to God." May-~ote 1997 Kroeger ¯ Milestone~ in Interreh~ious Dialogue "Respectful dialogue with others also enables us to be enriched by their insights, challenged by their questions, and impelled to deepen our knowledge of the truth. Far from stifling dialogue or rendering it superfluous, a commitment to the truth of one's reli-gious tradition by its very nature makes dialogue with others both necessary andfrui~Cul'' (Jakarta, 10 October 1989). "Interreligious dialogue at its deepest level is always a dia-logue of salvation, because it seeks to discover, clarify, and under-stand better the signs of the age-long dialogue which God maintains with humanity" (Vatican City, 13 November 1992). Summary ~ This essay has presented a synopsis of recent thought within the Roman Catholic tradition on interreligious dialogue. It has been purposely succinct, highlighting only twelve moments within the Vatican II era, supplemented with some pertinent citations from Pope John Paul II. The material available in this presenta-tion clearly indicates the church's current thought and direction vis-h-vis dialogue and evangelization. At the heart of recent Catholic literature on dialogue is an operative vision of evangelization that is broad, comprehensive, and holistic; it is often termed "integral evangelization." Several elements--including dialogue--are seen as constitutive~dimen-sions of it. The church ~consistently affirms her commitment to "integral evangelization," realizing that evangelization culminates in the proclamation of the Good News of Jesus Christ--whenever, wherever, and however this is practically and respectfully possible. Again, in fulfilling her mission of evangelization, the church engages the followers of various faith traditions, because it believes that in this encounter all dialogue partners will experience a mutual evangelization under the influence of the Holy Spirit. Dialogue remains an important bridge for the church to cross into the third millennium of Christianity. Review for Religious SUZANNE MAYER Providence: Charism and Contemporary Spirituality Several years ago, one sister within a group of Sisters, Servants ,of the Immaculate Heart of Mary, making a retreat together asked a Redemptorist theologian about the source of our IHM reliance on Divine Providence, something we considepa core spiritual charism of our congregation. We had,been looking at 'slides on our shared heritage featuring~ along with other treasures, the Marian paintings that hung in various places of St. Alphonsus Liguori's early life. These canvases portrayed Mary as Mother of Perpetual Help, the well-known Redemptorist devotion and the source of many shrines and many parish tides. The slides evoked Sister's curiosity about the deriva-tion of Mary as Mother of Providence and about the reliance on Divine Providence fostered by the Sisters for more than a hundr4d fifty years. These words are part of the answer she received from the theologian: "Your tra-dition of reliance on Divine Providence does not trace its origin to St. Alphonsus or anything in the devotional his-tory of the Redemptorists. You need to credit the feminine~ side of your founding and trace it to Mother Theresa Maxis and her total dependence on God throughout her life." For the celebration of the sesquicentennial of the Sisters, Servants of the Immaculate Heart of Mary, the sisters gathered during August 1995 in Monroe, Michigan, Suzann~ Mayer IHM writes to us from the IHM Spirituality Center; King Road/P.O. Box 200; Immaculata, Pennsylvania 19345. charism May-~me 1997 Mayer * Providence the place of foundation. It was natural to explore here this charism of Providence and its place in the evolution of this group of almost two thousand women religious. In an informal preconvention sur-vey conducted among some members of all three branches of the sisters assembling there, various nuances seemed to have emerged between and among them with regard to the meaning and rele-vanc~ of Providence; but, since the questionnaire was far from scientific and its sampling far from representative, litde was done except to remark on. the subtle variations. Some speakers from the three assembled branches, however, developed the topic of Divine Providence," and some conversations took place on the subject. Both the retreat director's response and the ideas raised at the meeting in Monroe stirred some curiosity in me. As a mem-ber of a congregation that traces its origin a century and a half back to the "banks of the Raisin River in Michigan" during the time of westward expansion and the coming of many immigrants to this nation, I considered trust in God's providence and benef-icent care of each person to be a logical spiritual necessity. But I wondered: How did this reliance on Divine Providence figure in the life of our founder, and, even more, how does it speak to us now, women religious standing at the threshold of a new mil-lennium? ~ To understand the meaning of Providence, I turned to the Catechism of the Catholic Church (§§302-314). My reading reminded me of questions I hear frequently when I sit in my counselor's chair and share the struggles of good people trying to make mean-ing of evil, darkness, pain, and loss in their lives. The Catechism states that in God's .providential plan. the universe exists in statu viae, "in a state of journeying toward an ultimate perfection yet to be attained," a sort of immaturity or incompleteness here and now. In this state of journeying, human experience ranges from loss to gain, chaos to order, exile to homecoming, terrifying evil to great goodness. What I heard in the scholarly words and philo-sophical phrases were echoes of my own experience and that of other journeyers. God does not create or will evil, pain, or loss, but, in honoring the integrity of human freedom, walks with peo-ple as they move through the world as it is, good and evil. Scripture shows us shekinah, cloud by day, fire by nigh~ (see Ex 40:34-38), and gives us the farewell promise of Christ to be ."with you always" (Mt 28:20). Review for. Religious The heart of holiness is the heart of maturing in Christ, the Pauline meaning of perfection (1 Co 13:11 and 14:20; Heb 5:11- 14). The spiritual child needs and wants the plan, finds security in order, yearns for control, but the spirit of providence enables the adult man and woman to understand becoming whole in bro-kenness and perceiving the plan threading its way even through chaos. Such a providence calls for abandonment, not as some test of human endurance, but as a falling into the arms of a loving, caring presence. Again the scholarship translates for me into.a remembered experience. Having worked with young adults in retreats and workshops, I recall an icebreaker that was designed to instill or test trust. In the acti;city the young people would have to fall backwards into, hopefully, the arms of their waiting friends. Providence viewed from this per-spective allows today's believer to expe-rience divine care in both the positive and the negative. What if the arms are not in place to catch the falling body? What if their strength proves inadequate? The trusting soul lands on the floor. Does this - mean that the friends have failed the test? Perhaps. Or maybe it is a result of mistiming, an unpreventable distraction, misjudg-ment on. the part of the faller whatever. A providence spiritual-ity demands inclusion of negatives as well as positives. Otherwise, the believer would be living in a Pollyanna world where God gives only home runs, top grades, and sunshine days in answer to prayers. What happens in such a world when the inevitable strikeouts, ,failures, or clouds come? Where does providence spirituality fitinto the life of Theresa Maxis, the "feminine side" of the founding of the Sisters, Servants of the Immaculate Heart of Mary? And, more relevantly, where does it fit into the life of IHM

Issue 46.2 of the Review for Religious, March/April 1987. ; Modern Media and Comn~unity Vocation Directors and Sexuality Trends in Spirituality--1986 An Experience of Group Direction Volume 46 Number 2 March/April, 1987 Rl~v~l~w VOR RIz~,~c;~ous (ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration with faculty members of St. Louis University's Department of Theological Studies. The editorial offices are located at 3601 Lindell Blvd., Room 428: St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. REvw.w RF~l_~c,~otJs is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO © 1987 by REv~.w ~:OR RV, t,~G~OtJS. Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription: U.S.A. $11.00 a year: $20.00 for two years¯ Other countries: add $4.00 per year (surface mail)¯ Airmail (Book Rate): $18.00 per year. For subscription orders or change of address, write: R~:viFzw vor~ R~:~Acaot~s: P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Daniel F.X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Review Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editor March/April, 1987 Volume 46 Number 2 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the edilor should be sent to REVIEW I.'OR R~:~.~taotls: Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd., St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Richard A. Hill, S.J.; J.S.T.B.; 1735 LeRoy Ave., Berkeley, CA 94709. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from R~:v~:w ~'ou RE~,W.~o~s: Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393, "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. A major portion of each issue is also available on cassette recordings as a service for the visually impaired. Write to the Xavier Society for the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY 10010. The Fi st Stage tO"Union: The Active Night Of the .Senses Susan A. Muto Doctor Muto is Director of Duquesne's Institute of Formative Spirituality (Duquesne University; Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania 15282). St. John of the Cross' teaching in the first book of the Ascent of Mount Carmel presupposes that the sojourner has reached that stage in the spiritual life where he or she Js ready to advance beyond the beginnings of prayer and awaken to the deeper regions of divine intimacy. Thus he writes here for (advanced) beginners and persons already proficient in such virtues as detachment, humility and charity. The aim of Book One is threefold: to help an already well,formed self, one who has tasted certain pleasures and satisfactions, to unburden itself of worldly, inordinate attachments; to share the knowledge the saint has gathered through his own reading, experience, and direction as to how souls are to avoid spiritual obstacles; and to describe in concrete detail the way in which one can live in the freedom of spirit necessary, for divine union. It is wise at this point to read the poem, "One Dark Night," and return to it, for its moving images teach--more than abstract concepts can--how happy the soul is to pass through the nights of sense and spirit to union with its Beloved. In the Prologue to Book One the master says that his guides on this journey will be, above all, the desire for God, along with the background wisdom provided by Sacred Scripture and the doctrine of the Church. He immediately identifies two main obstacles to advancement, these being, in a phrase, inadequate direction and inadequate appraisal. Spiritual directors, 161 Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 lacking both sufficient knowledge and experience.of what is happening to the pilgrim soul may unwittingly encourage persons to continue in their old ways. Then, too, the person himself or herself may neither know how to nor want to advance. Even if the Lord comes, they are not willing to adapt themselves to his work. They resist the flow of grace or refuse to cooperate. Thus: God gives many souls the talent and grace for advancing, and should they desire to make the effort they would arrive at this high state. And so it is sad to see them continue in their lowly method of communion with God because they do not want or know how to advance, or because they receive no direction on breaking away from the methods of beginners (AMC, I, Prologue, 3/70).* Failing to understand that God is the author of this enlightenment, ill-prepared directors may urge persons, instead of advancing, to return to former ways of prayer or to make many general confessions. They do not realize that now is not the time for such activity: Indeed it is a period for leaving these persons alone in the pu~'gation God is working in them, a time to give comfort and encouragement that they may desire to endure this suffering as long as God wills, for until then, no remedy--whatever the soul does, or the confessor says--is adequate (AMC, I, Prologue, 5/71). Having said this, St. John begins in Chapters One and Two to explain the imagery of'the "night" that will guide both him and the soul. Early evening or twilight marks the point of departure, the time of purgation, for the soul will experience deprivations of its appetites for worldly pleasure, possessiohs; powers. As one mortifies these, one is led deeper into the night--to the midnight hour of dense darkness where the only means of progress is faith, where intellect is deprived of its normal modes of knowing so that one may be made ready for the secret and intimate self-communications of God. The night eventually gives way to daybreak, to the dawn, which symbolizes the point of God's arrival, the time of love's illumination transformed into perfect union with the Lover: Thus these phases of the night encompass the threefold path of purgation, illumination, and union, not as something accomplished once and for all in linear fashion, but as an ongoing cycle of deprivation, restoration, and transformation. One discovers through the nights of sense and spirit that, as St. Teresa of Avila says, on this walk through life God alone suffices. No object of sense, no concept, image, or idea, can fulfill our infinite desire. The point of Chapter Three is to identify the first cause of this night as the "privation"~or deprivation of perverted desires or appetites. Perhaps The First Stage to Union this is St. John's way of explaining, as a necessary condition for.spiritual deepening, control of the pleasure principle. This control actually effects a rechanneling of vital energies so that they flow from and return to their transcendent source. We must go through this "night" in order to restore the equilibrium thrown off by excessive attachment to the gratifications afforded by our relations, sensually speaking, to persons, things and events. It is clear from the context of this chapter that St. John believes that all creation is good; nothing is evil in itself. Ideally we ought to proceed from the manifestations of God to God himself. In reality, due to the spiritual blindness imposed by our fallen condition, we cling frantically to these vital gratifications. By refusing to let them go, we disavow them. as pointers to their Creator. We tend to make them ultimate sources of pleasure or posses-sion. They become idols or ends in themselves. The result of not entering the night of sense deprivation is, therefore, an increase of formation igno-rance or forgetfulness of our true transcendent" nature--the dynamic that marks our most distinctive human quality. Hence, we need the "night" to reawaken our capacity to remember the Creator in our sense perception of creatures. That is to say, we must see through the visible to the invisible Reality. We are not to remain only on the surface of things but to behold in faith the depth dimension. By darkening the senses of hearing, seeing, smelling, tasting and touching, one is paradoxically free and empty of all things, even though one possesses them. In short: "Since the things of the world cannot enter the soul, they are not in themselves an encumbrance or harm to it; rather, it is the will and appetite dwelling within it that causes the damage" (AMC, 1, 3, 5/77). St. John now goes on, in effect, in Chapters Four and Five to suggest three steps to follow on this phase of the journey through the dark night to God. They are, in a word, remembrance, comparison and renunciation., In the first place, to be freed from this idle/idol illusion, one must strive to remember the right relation between creation and the Creator. Curiously enough, this re-membering has to do with dismembering, that is, of divesting ourselves of inordinate attachments to things as they are in themselves, as if they could be separated f~om their Creator. To dismember a thing as ultimate is to re-member it as dependent on God.Such detachment, while painful, helps one to appreciate things much more as manifestations of the goodness of God. By contrast, one who is clothed in these affections (versus dis-membered) will be "incapable of the enlightenment and dominating full-ness of God's pure and simple light, unless he rejects them" (AMC, I, 4, 1/77-78). Harsh as it may sound, St. John holds firm to his conviction that the light of divine union cannot be established in the soul until these (inordi-nate) affections are eradicated. A more positive way of making the point 164 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 might be to ~ay t~at when our idolizing ~lesire to take pleasure in and to possess things as such is mortified, we can appreciate them as they are in their pristine origin and beauty. We move in this way from a posture of violence and control to one of love and letting be, from an attitude of manipulation and calculation to one of compassion. A second helpful step at this stage of the journey is to set up a comparison between the finite, limited nature of things as distinct from the "how much more" of the infinite. For example, the Sea of Galilee compared to the sea of God's love is like a drop of water compared to the Pacific Ocean. Simi-larly, creatures, however beautiful, elegant and abundant they may be, com-pared to their Creator are as darkness compared to light, are as coarseness compared to grace, or ignorance compared to ability. Through this exercise in comparison, St. John introduces us to the Reality Principle, namely, he wants us to see things as they really are in their limited value and as pointers to the limitlessness of thei'r Lord. Via this comparison, we will be better able to break the tendency to make any "little beyond" into the "True Be~,ond"' and hence _to. r_is_k !nitiating a pseud.o-spirituality that invests in something finit~ the richness of the Infinite. Understanding this point of comparison enables us to read Chapter Four as a litany of praise to our Creator God: ¯ . . all the being of creatures compared with the infinite being of God is nothing . All the beauty of creatures compared with the infinite Beauty of God is supreme ugliness . All the grace and elegance of creatures compared with God's grace is utter coarseness and crudity. (AMC, l, 4, 4/79). Here St. John would agree fully with St. Paul that the wisdom of the world is mere foolishness in God's sight (1 Co 3:19). Clearly, the meaning of these statements does not intend for us to reject creaturely being, beauty, grace and ability as bad, but to place these attributes in their proper rela-tion to God. They will all pass away, but not his word. Creaturely qualities, no matter how rich, are ultimately poor in comparison to the Being, Beauty, Elegance and Wisdom of God. Our hope resides not in this or that momen-tary pleasure or possession but in God alone. If the first step out of illusion is to remember our nothingness without God, then the second step is to compare his eternal truth with whatever is temporal. The promise he makes to us is more trustworthy than any stopping place on the path of formation. Thus it is up to us to keep running the race to the end, which means not resting ultimately in anything but God, for, as St. Augustine has said so beautifully, our hearts are restless until they rest in him. Or, to again quote St. John: The First Stage to Union All the sovereignty and freedom of the world compared with the f~eedom and sovereignty of the Spirit of God is utter slavery, anguish, and cap-tivit3; . All the delights and satisfactions of the will in the things of the world in contrast to all the delight that is God is intense suffering, tor-ment and bitterness . All the wealth and, glory of creation compared with the wealth that is God is utter poverty and misery in the Lord's sight (AMC, I, 4, 6, 7/80). The third step, as suggested in Chapter Five, is the most radical, for St. John says that total renunciation is the condition par excellence for pure transformation. Here paradox prevails, Just as knowing is only possible in unknowing, so freedom of spirit or liberation is the result of detachment or renunciation. One must empty the appetite of all the natural and super-natural things which can be a hindrance to the journey to God. This kenotic experience does not happen once and for all but demands habitual effort in cooperation with the graces God is bestowing. The language here allows for no compromise: , The road and ascent to God, then, necessarily, demands a habitualeffort to renounce ~nd mortify the appetites; the sooner this mortification is achieved~ the sooner the soul re~ches the top. But until the appetiteff are eliminated, a person will not arrive, no matter how much virtue he practices. For he will fail to acquire perfect virtue, which lies in keeping the soul empty, naked and purified of every appetite (AMC, I, 5, 6/83). If we desire to climb the summit of the mount "in order to become an altar for the offering of a sacrifice of pure love and praise," we must strive to accomplish three.tasks, described through the following metaphors: first, we must "cast out strange gods," meaning that we have to let go of any affections and attachments that tend to alienate us from God; secondly, we must purify ourselves of their residue through habitual denial (saying no for the sake of a greater yes) and--for as often as we fail to do so-- through habitual, confident repentance (trusting that God's mercy responds with motherly tenderness to our misery); and, thirdly, we must take on a "change of garments," meaning that we must be clothed in a "new under-standing of God [through the removal of the understanding of the old man], and in a new love of God in God . " In this way, we move from igno-rance of who we really are toward acceptance of our being made in the form and likeness of God, of our being, as St. John puts it, "his worthy dwelling." The saint is one who says with every fiber of his or her being: "My God and my all!" One accepts this truth without flinching: "The only appetite God permits and wants in his dwelling place is the desire for the perfect fulfillment of his law and the carrying of his cross" (AMC, I, 5, 8/84). Having reflected on the meaning and demands of total renunciation and "166 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 the liberation it brings, St. John moves on in the next five chapters (Six through Ten) to analyze the harms the appetites engender in the soul. There are two main areas of harm, the one privative, the other positive. In general, unruly appetites deprive us of God's spirit. By our attachment to a created thing weoare less capable of soaring free to God. St. John relies for his reason-ing on the philosophical fact that two contraries cannot coexist in the same person. Therefore, "Since love of God and attachment to creatures are con-traries, they cannot coexist in the same will" (AMC, I, 6, 2/85). In biblical terms, rather than accept our privilege as children of God to eat at his table, we act like dogs who must eat the crumbs that fall to the floor. We refuse to rise from the "crumbs" of creatures to the uncreated Spirit of the Father. It stands to reason that "this uncreated fullness cannot find entry to a soul until this other hunger caused by the desires is expelled" (AMC, I, 6, 3/85). As to the second harm, which is positive, we must realize that numerous. impediments are wrought in the soul by inordinate appetites, the most obvious of these being that they weary, torment, darken, defile and weaken the true seeker. Our spiritual life suffers in the first place because these appe-tites weary and tire us to death. He compares them to restless, discontented children, who wear their mothers out trying to please them. Satisfied at one moment, they demand more satisfaction the next. The more one quiets their cravings, the more demanding they become. One feels increasingly agitated, disturbed, fatigued. Like the pulsion governing physical hunger or sexual need, so appetites in general are stirred to satisfy themselves endlessly. St. John makes this analogy: Just as a lover is wearied and depressed when on a longed-for day his oppor-tunity is frustrated, so is a man wearied and tired by all his appetites and their fulfillment, because the fulfillment only causes more hunger and empti-ness. An appetite, as they say, is like a fire that blazes up when wood is thrown on it, but necessarily dies out when the wood is consumed (AMC, I, 6, 6/87). Such desires make it impossible for us to live in the longing for God alone, for instead of him, weexpect them to satisfy us. It is as if we keep looking for heaven on earth. Thus we become ready victims of illusory promises of fulfillment. We give in to the pressures of consumerism. In both cases the sad reward is discontent, for we have turned unwittingly from God who alone can satisfy us. These inordinate appetites not only wear us-out, they also torment us. They gnaw at us mercilessly, as if we were bound by tight cords or tortured on a rack. The torment would be comparable to that which a person suffers who lies naked on thorns and nails; who is in pain; who knows no peace; who is always thirsty. In contrast to what happens to us when the cord of The First Stage to Union / 167 desires tightens around us, when the possessions we cling to desperately possess us, think of the liberation of the children of God. Consider the refreshing peace that is ours when we surrender our will to his. Instead of wasting our efforts, why don't we delight in the abundance of God? We should learn to see that this movement to~vard abundance is a departure from the pleasures of crea-tures, because the creature torments, while the Spirit of God refreshes'.' -Accordingly, God calls us through St. Matthew. as though he were to say: All you going about tormented, afflicted, and weighed down by your cares and appetites, depart from them, come to me and I will refresh you; and you will find the rest for your souls that the desires take away from you (Mt 11:28-29) (AMC, 1, 7, 4/88-89). Thirdly, these self-centered desires blind us. It is as if we are living behind a cloudy pane of glass that blocks out the bright sunshine. We see only a hazy image of things--not things as they really are. Due to this blindness, it is impossible for us to think clearly. It is as if the powers of our transcen-dent mind are dulled by the excessive demands of the vital or functional spheres. Both natural reason and supernatural wisdom are darkened. And when the intellect is obscured, the will becomes weak and the memory dis-ordered. The desire for const'an~ pleasure or sensual stimulation makes reflec-tive living a virtual impossibility. Things go from bad to worse because the intellect is incapable of receiving the illumination of God's wisdom; ttie will cannot embrace the pure love of God; and the memory lessens its capacity for the impression of the serenity of God's image upon it. Unless these blinding desires are mortified, one will not advance on the way of union. It stands to reason that if the~e unruly appetites lead a person, he or sh~ is bound to be blind to the'mind's appraisal powers. One reacts on impulse, without the help of a quiet attunement to the Christ form in the core of one's being. All that is released is the counterfeit form of con-cupiscence and pride. No amount of penance can overcome this darkness if one does not root out the source of the trouble, namelyl the blinding blockage of inordinate desires. They are like a ~ataract on the eye or specks of dust in°it. Until they are removed, they obstruct vision. One way or another, in this life or in the next, these appetites have to be chastised and corrected. They have to underg6 purgation before any steady progress in the spiritual life can take place. St. John laments this condition of forma-tion ignorance in language reminiscent of the prophets: Oh, if men but knew what a treasure of divine light this blindness caused by their affections and appetites deprives them of, and the number of mis-fortunes and evils these appetites occasion each day when left unmorti-fle!! . At every step we mistake evil for good and good for evil. 16~i / Review for Religious., March-April, 1987 This is peculiar to our nature. But what will happen if appetite is added to our natural darkness? . We have felt our way along the way as though blind, we have groped as if without eye,s, and our blindness has reached the point that we stumble along in broad daylight as though walk-ing in the dark (AMC, I, 8, 6, 7/91). Using even stronger language, St. John assures us that such blind desires stain ,and defile the soul, bringing it into bondage under the rule of the autarchic-pride form, and blackening the beauty of the christ form we are called to release. We are like someone who is stained by pitch or blacker than coal--and yet we are meant to be whiter than snow or milk. This is so because even the disordered soul remains in substantial union with God. It "possesses in its natural being the perfection that God bestowed when creating .it," even though in its rational being it is full of the defilement described here. We cannot grow in Christ-likeness until this defilement, is checked by formative detachment. The tragedy is that these inclinations keep us away from the peace God is drawing us toward in the life of union. incredible as it may sound: One inordinate appetite alone., suffices to make a soul so captive, dirty, and unsightly that,until the appetite is purified the soul is incapable of con-formity with God in union. This is true even though there may be no matter for mortal sin in the appetite. What thenwill b~.the ugliness of a soul entirely disordered in its passions and surrendered to its appetites? How far it will be from God and his purity (AMC, I, 9, 3/92-93). It follows that all three faculties of the soul are affected by this kind of attachment. Just as one bad spot spoils an entire garment, so intellect, memory, and will are defiled by disordered desires. . The end result is that such desires render us lukewarm, spiritually speaking. Appetites that go unmortified eventually sap the soul of the strength it needs to persevere in the practice of virtue. In this weakened state, ours is an on-again, off-again spirituality. We are usually overdependent on consolations and only sporadically attracted to steady discipline. Appetites, as it were, divide and conquer us, whereas asceticism unites our inner faculties and makes us stronger. Lacking this discipline, we feel scattered. Our faith is easily challenged. We may.be open targets for exalted schemes that promise salvation through a wide door, not a narrow gate. We would like to master God rather than allow him to master us. What matters most is not his will but our own interpretation of the easy way. Without purgation and ongoing appraisal of the direction of our spiritual life, self-gratification, not God, becomes our center. As far as St. John is concerned, this would be hell on earth. Instead of copcentrating on strength-ening our practice of virtue, all we care about is satisfying our desii~es, Little The First Stage to Union / 169 wonder, then, that they rob us of what we already have. Unmortified appe-tites result in killing our relationship with God. Because we did not put them gently but firmly to death first, they live on to kill us. For what difference does it make if we win the whole world and lose our soul? Having spelled out in vivid detail the privative and positive harms appe-tites can cause in the soul, St. John explains again in Chapters Eleven and Twelve what kinds of appetites are detrimental to the soul. To do so he distinguishes three kinds of appetites, moving from the least to the most detrimental, these being the natural ones, the "semivoluntary and the voluiatary. Natural movements, as, for example, an ear for and an attraction to good music, are of little or no hindrance to the attainment of union, provided we do not make them the center of our attention nor pass beyond the first stage of spontaneous affinity in which the rational will plays no part. Because we are a body-mind-spirit unity, because we are born with certain givens in the realm of temperament, disposition and talent, it is impossible to eradi-cate natural appetites in this life, and, were we to do so, it would most likely be deformative. TheSe movements go hand in hand with our creatureliness. One can be experiencing them in the sensitive part of one's being, as, for instance, a hunger pang, and yet be free of the desire for food at this moment, as, for instance, during a liturgy, in the rational part of one's being. These movements can even be stirring in a person who is experiencing an intense union of will in the prayer of quiet. These appetites may actually dwell in the sensory part of the soul, yet the superior part pays no attention to them, just as there can be foam on the ocean's surface and deep calm underneath the sea. One. may even feel certain sexual stirrings without in the least detract-ing from one's absorption in God in the center of one's being. As long as one pays no attention to them--rletting them buzz in and out like flies but not stopping to swat them--one need not be concerned about them. Such is not the case with the other appetites--~whether the less grave, which involve venial sin, or the most serious, which involve mortal sin. The trouble with natural movements, which are the least of them all, is that one can consent to them and be forthwith ~aught up in imperfections that are contrary to God's will. If one is to reach (he perfection of union with God through one's will and love, it is obvious that one must be freed from every appetite, howe~,er slight. One must have the strength and freedom to be able--in the face of temptation--to refuse consent. There is a difference between "ad~,ertence" Or "knowingly" falling into imperfections, and "inad-vertence" or falling without much knowledge or control of the matter. These are the semivoluntary sins because of which it is said that the just man will fall seven times a day and rise up again. Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 The real problem resides with the voluntary appetites. Anyone of these, even the most trifling, is sufficient to impede union. Especially problematic are the "habitual appetites," because scattered acts rooted in diverse desires are not such a hindrance. They are not a determine~l habit--yet ultimately the soul must be liberated of these too since they both proceed from and may lead to habitual imperfection. Habitual, voluntary imperfections that are not completely mortified not only stand in the way of divine union but also hinder spiritual prog~ress as such. St. John gives some examples of what he means by habitual imperfections (those deformed dispositions that prevent us from responding fully and freely to the call to love). ¯ . . the common habit of loquacity; a small attachment one never really desires to conquer, for example, to a person, to clothing, to a book or a cell, or to .the way food is prepared, and to other trifling conversa-tions . Any of these habitual imperfections, and attachment to them, causes as much harm to an individual as ,would the daily commission of many other imperfections (AMC, I, 11, 4/97). Harsh as it may sound, St. John will not compromise his conviction that such an attachment, however trifling it ma~, seem, will make it impossible in the long run for one to progress in perfection. Something as simple as insisting on the same place in a church pew, and compelling others to crawl over one, can hinder the spiritual flight the saint is talking about. The point is: It makes little difference whether a bird is tied by a thin thread or by a cord. For even if tied by thread, the bird will be prevented from taking off just as surely as if it were tied by cold--that is, it ~vill be impeded from flight as long as it does not break the thread . This is the lot of a man who is attached to something: no matter how much virtue he has he will not reach the freedom of divine union (AMC, I, 11, 4/97). In one text after another, St. John comes back to this issue. How regret-table that a soul laded like a rich vessel with the wealth of good deeds, spiritual exercisesand virtues never leaves port because one lacks the courage to break the rope of a little satisfaction, attachment or affection. God gives them the power to sever other stronger cords while they cling to some childish act or thing God ask~ them to overcome for love of him. Not only do they fail to advance; they even turn back for so ,mething that amounts to no more than a thread or a hair. And, "Everyone knows that not to go forward on this road is to turn back, and not to gain ground is to lose." The goal of union demands that we do not stop on the road, but that we continually mortify our appetites rather than indulge them. For how can a log of wood be transformed into the fire if a single degree of heat is lacking to its prepa- The First Stage to Union ration? Similarly, itis St. John's contention that the soul "will not be trans-formed in God even if it has only one imperfection." This is so because a person has only one will, and if this is encumbered or occupied by any-thing, it will not possess the freedom, solitude and purity requisite for divine transformation. Complementing these clarifications from Chapter Eleven are a few of his Sayings of Light and Love, for example, Saying 23--"He who does not allow his appetites to carry him.away will soar in his spirit as swiftly as the bird that lacks no feathers" (668). Returning to the topic of the kinds of harm the appetites can cause in the soul, St. John explains, in regard to privative evil or the loss of grace, that only the voluntary appetites whose object may involve mortal sin can do this~completely--that is, deprive the soul of grace in this life, and glory, the possession of God, in the next. The positive evils (weariness, torment, blindness, defilement, weakness) correspond in general to a turning toward creatures, just as the privative involve an aversion from God. Naturally, the degree of harm depends on whether the appetite leads to mortal or venial sin, whether it is voluntary or semivoluntary. The harm. caused by each appe-tite can be direct or indirect. For example, vainglory positively harms the soul in all the ways mentioned, but it most principally darkens and blinds it. The point to keep in mind is that all these evils together oppose the acts of virtue, which generate the contrary and corrective effect. For example, a virtuous act produces in one mildness, peace, comfort, light, purity, and strength; an inordinate appetite brings with it torment, fatigue, and so on. In short: "Through the practice of one virtue all the virtues grow, and similarly, through an increase in one vice, all the vices and their effects grow" (AMC, I, 12, 5/100). Don't we all know from experience (think of that overstuffed feeling after a too rich meal) that "the appetite when satisfied seems .sweet and, pleasant, but eventually the sour effect is felt." We cannot avoid this basic truth that if and when we allow ourselves to be carried away by our appetites, the bitter effect of losing our-selves in vitalistic feelings or functionalistic preoccupations is inevitable. Such is not the case with the natural, involuntary appetites. Though disturbances in this realm may seem to defile one, the actual resistance of them has the opposite effect. In this struggle one wins strength, purity and many other blessings, for as our Lord told St. Paul: "Virtue is made perfect in weakness" (2 Co 12:9). Since, in conclusion, it is the voluntary appetites that bring on all these evils--and even more--the chief concern of spiritual directors with their directees ought to be the "immediate mortification of every appe-tite." Nothing less than this emptiness-will liberate them. We come now to the famous Chapter Thirteen of Book One of the Ascent in which St. John delineates some counsels pertaining to the active night 179 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 of the senses or how one can conquer and overcome voluntary appetites. Though one is doing what one can, this very action is dependent on the "already-thereness" of God's grace, prompting one to enter this night and thereby come "quickly" to the passive way in which God accomplishes this work in us. What is this "abridged method" that leads us from~nothing to everything, from emptiness to fullness, from renunciation to liberation, from being bound to soaring free? It proceeds in a series of steps, which we shall summarize here. 'First and foremost comes the habitual desire to imitate Christ in all of one's deeds. Nothing is more important on the way of perfection than bring-ing our lives into conformity with his. This being with the Christ form implies the ongoing reading (lectio continua) of the Scriptures together with their more concentrated study (lectio divina). Knowing him through his words and actions, we can better emulate his attitudes in our own situation, thus drawing our entire existence more and more into union and communion with his. It follows that to succeed in this imitation, we need to calm down and by and large renounce sensory satisfactions severed from that which gives honor and glory to God. We cannot do this on basis of willpower alone; our motivation must emerge not from fear but from our love of the Lord who came to show us how we are to go through him to the Father. His one desire in life was to fulfill the Father's will, which "he called his meat and food" (Jn 4:34). What does this decision mean concretely? The key resides in the phrase "do not desire," and it means do not desire to hear, . look upon, act, take pleasure in anything that is unrelated to the service and glory of God. St. John would never be against enjoying good music, if we have an ear for it, of appreciating the beauty of art or nature, or in delivering or hearing a moving sermon. What bothers him is our tendency to stop at this literal level instead of going through and beyond it to the transliteral, sacred mystery. One cannot help but experience satisfaction in these sensory goods. The important directive is not to desire the gratifica-tion as such but to desire the God who gratifies. By this method, we leave the senses, as it were, in darkness and, from the spiritual point of view, "gain a great deal in a short time." Such vigilance, perhaps understood as purity or singleness of heart, leads to the tranquilizing or harmonizing of the natural passions of joy, hope, fear, and sorrow--four emotions that constitute the basis of the active purga-tion of the will by love in Book III, Chapter Sixteen ff, of the Ascent. Here it is sufficient to present a few maxims that represent a first formula for pacifying these passions while practicing many virtues. Note here as well that what we are pacifying is the passion for (inordinate attachment to) satis- The First Stage to Union / 17'3 factions that are self-centered; expectations that are willful; anxieties rooted in our search for security; and depressions due to lack of control, and not having things go our way. Only if we understand this can we understand and accept as wise these well-known maxims: 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 pleasant; not to what means rest for you, but to hard work; not to the consoling, but to the unconsoling; not to the most, but to the least; not to the highest and most precious, but to the lowest and most despised; not to wanting something, but to wanting nothing; do not go about looking for the best of temporal things, but for the worst, and desire to enter into complete nudity, emptiness and poverty in everything in the world (AMC, 'I, 13, 6/102-103). This passage may seem life-denying, slightly masochistic, to say noth-ing of the impossibility of reaching or doing, if we overlook the crucial phrase at the beginning, which says "Endeavor to be inclined always . " This is the same as saying "Strive," "Try," "Foster the inclination" to develop that "sixth sense" that guides our call to be a true follower of Christ, which implies inevitably to deny ourselves and to take up our cross for his sake. As witnesses to the Gospel, we ought to be ever more proficient in detecting what in us operates on basis of the pride form and what in us gives assent to the Christ form. For did he not choose the "narrow way" that was, by human standards, most diffic.u~lt, harshest, less pleasant? Did he not work so hard to accomplish our salvation that he had nowhere on which to rest his head? Was his agony not unconsoling? Was he not numbered among the least of men? Among the most despised? What did he want except to fulfill the will of the Father? If this is true, and if we want to walk with him, then we too must practice the poverty of spirit by which he emptied himself and became like a slave for our sake. Thus in these counsels, St. John is indicating concretely how we are to accomplish the imitation of Christ. With his help, we can learn to embrace them earnestly and overcome the aversion we may feel toward them. By entering into nothingness, we enter into nothing-butness--for nothing but God will satisfy the heart that loves him. Such a life practiced with order and discretion (for these mortifications are means toward union, not union itself), enable us to live in faithfulness to our unique call to discipleship. What is easiest and what is most difficult depends, of course, on who we "174 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 are. It may be easiest for a research scientist not to spend tedious hours in his laboratory looking for formulas that will benefit human health when he would rather be on the golf course. Hence, what is difficult and done for Christ is to maintain his place in the lab, putting his God-given gifts to work. For another, the most difficult.may be to overcome his shyness and meet colleagues on the golf course, thus tempering his workaholic ten-dency and relaxing so he may be a better servant for the Lord. These decisions are dependent on the appraisal powers of our transcendent mind and will, but behind this appraisal stands the basic counsel, "Endeavor to be inclined always" to imitate Christ and to be ready to do what is most consonant with our call to radical discipleship. This commitment will inevitably lead us through the narrow way of the night of the senses, for we will have to die to the old, unredeemed, fleshy pride form, the "pride of life," as St. John calls it, for this "concupiscence" reigns in the world, as separated from God, and gives rise to all the appe-tites. Toward this pride form, we are to try to act with contempt, speak with contempt, and think with contempt. Nothing short of this radical rejec-tion of pride will ready us for radical discipleship. This contemptuous no is for the sake of a greater yes. We are saying no to formation ignorance, to its remote cause which is the pride form, and to its proximate causes, such as the immersion in vitalism, the escape in functionalism, the evasion of interformative responsibility. In saying no to the pride form, we are taking the first necessary step to combating demonic seduction (the deception that we are in charge of our destiny) and growing strong in Christ for the greater struggle to come in the dark night, where our only guide is faith. These counsels are thus an essential preliminary for formation freedom. For only if we desire nothing can we allow God to give us all. In summary, to mortify "the concupiscence of the flesh" means to ceas~ allowing the vital dimension of the life form to be a substitute for the tran-scendent. It means the end of downward transcendence. To mortify "the concupiscence of the eyes" means to cease allowing the functional dimension to dominate our existence with its penchant for envious competition and ego control. It means the end of horizontal transcendence. And, ultimately, to mortify "the pride of life" means to root out the source of our trouble and to pursue upward transcendence, in which the vital and functional spheres become servants of the ascent to God. Such are St. John's basic instructions for climbing to the summit, "the high state of union." Now perhaps we can understand and absorb with relief his concluding counsels., for if we read them properly, they will tell us to desire nothing in order to allow God to give everything. Thus: The First Stage to Union / 175 To reach satisfaction in all desir~e its possession in nothing. To come to possess all desire the possession of nothing. To arrive at being all desire to be nothing. To come to the knowledge of all desire the knowledge of nothing. To come to the pleasure you have not you must go by a way in which you enjoy not. To come to the knowledge you have not you must go by a way in which you know not. To come to the possession you have not you must go by a way in which you possess not. To come to be what you are not you must go by a way in which you are not. When you turn toward something you cease to cast yourself upon the All. For to go from all to the All you must deny yourself of all in all. And when you come to the possession of the all you must possess it without wanting anything. Because if you desire to have something in all your treasure in God is not purely your all. In this nakedness the spirit finds its quietude and rest. For in coveting nothing nothing raises it up and nothing weighs it down, because it is in the center of its humiliiy. When it covets something in this very desire it is wearied. What St. John is saying in these remarkable verses is that one will reach satisfaction in all, possession of~all, being all one desires, only if one desires nothing but God. One will know much in the knowledge and remembrance that one is no-thing. One is a child of God, emerging from him and returning to him--not an object of one's own pleasure or satisfaction, but his child, with all the dignity that one is afforded thereby. Thus if we want a pleasure higher than any vital stimulation, if we want an understanding greater than any reason can conclude, if we want to possess more than any collection of material or spiritual goods can yield, if we want to be who we most deeply are, then we must follow this narrow way of 176 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 enjoying what we don't know, of understanding One who is incomprehen-sible, of possessing what we can never fully own--for the divine mystery will ~ilways escape our urge to master it. Indeed, to be who we are we must go by this way in which our pride form is not, in which we are increasingly naughted, in which it is noI longer we who live but Christ who lives in us. Every time we turn toward some thing, person, or event as ultimate or absolute, we turn away from the Lord of all. We cease to cast ourselves upon his mercy, forgiveness, love. To go from the all (God's gifts every-where) to the All (God himself), we must deny ourselves of the All (God), that is, the illusion that the All can be found in or contained in all. God is beyond every little idol we try to create. And even when we possess him, we must do so in a letting-be attitude, without wanting anything but him as he reveals himself. Because if we desire to have something, for example, more consolations or signs of his love, then our treasure in God is not purely or wholly in him as our all, but only in his consolations. The more we reflect on this message, the more we discover that only in this nakedness, this emptiness of spirit, can the soul find its rest. In coveting, in desiring, nothing but God's will, one experiences real tranquil-lity. Whether in adversity or prosperity, whether in consolation or desola-tion, nothing raises one up and nothing weighs one down. It is a blessed state to live in the center of one's humility, to walk graciously in the truth of who one is. Coveting something produces the opposite effect: weariness and torment. For nothing can bring to rest our restless soul save union with God--and it is toward this union that St. John fires our love with urgent longings. Book One closes with two short chapters, which really provide a transi-tion to Book Two. The.phrase St. John comments upon points to the main effect of the active night of sense, namely, "Fired w.ith love's urgent long-ings." The result of this initial purgation of the appetites is a more intense enkindling of another love: a better love, the love of God above all else. The motivation for giving up these attachments must be neither fear of punishment nor the presumption of merit but the freedom, based on faith and love, tb choose a higher good. "By finding his satisfaction and strength in this love, a man will have the courage and constancy to deny readily all other appetites" (AMC, I, 14, 2/105). Such love is not static, but dynamic; it is a longing love. Since the sensory appetites are always in a state of "craving," spiritual desires must be fired with other more "urgent longings." Lacking this transcendence,dynamic, the soul will not be able to overcome the yoke of absolutized vital impulses and functional ambi-tions (what St. John calls the "yoke of nature"); nor will one be able to enter the first night of sense, and certainly one will not have the courage The First Stage to Union / 17"/ to live in the darkness of all things--not by rejecting them as such but by denying the desire for them as if they could provide the fulfillment God alone can offer. St. John will deal with these matters more fully in upcoming Books on the active night of the spirit (which will discuss the purification of our spiritual faculties, intellect, memory and will by, respectively, faith, hope, and love). At least to have passed through the night of the mortification of the senses, the night in which the house of self-will is stilled, is itself a "sheer grace." God's grace, his always active love, has released us already from this prison. But because of our fallenness, "flesh" is still subject to the passions and unruly appetites. To be liberated from this bondage in a way that is unimpeded by its enemies (world, flesh and devil) is for the soul an unspeakably wonderful grace. To achieve this liberation to the full, one must, so to speak, leave the Egypt of sensory satisfaction and cross the desert of spiritual deprivation. When the house of willful appe-tites is quieted through the mortification of sensuality, then the soul is free to walk in genuine freedom, enjoying union with the Beloved. It is to this next phase of renunciation for the sake of greater liberation that one must now turn, keeping in mind this saying of St. John's: "If you purify your soul of attachment to and desire for things, you will understand them spiritually. If you deny your appetite for them, you will enjoy their truth, understanding what is certain in them" (Sayings o fLight andLove, 46/671). *All quotations can be found in references by paragraph and page number. Collected ~'orks of St. John of the Cross, translated by Kieran Kavanaugh, O.C.D. and Otilio Rodriguez, O.C.D., ICS Publications, Institute of Carmelite Studies, Washington, D.C. The Eucharist: Heart of Religious Community Susan Wood, S.C.L. Sister Susan Wood teaches theology at Saint Mary College (Leavenworth, Kansas 66048). This article is the fruit of her reflection in anticipation of her community's General Chapter last summer. As she writes, "Paradoxically, what may be most specific sometimes touches what is true universally." The daily celebration of the Eucharist is a focal point of our lives a source of our charity a fount of inspiration in our mission a sign and means of unity and nourishment. Constitution, #23 Today many sisters are asking whether we can continue to say that the Eucharist is a focal point of our lives. Quite simply, some say, for many of us our daily schedules prohibit a daily eucharistic celebration. Others question how the Eucharist can be expressive of unity in a situation where the worshipping community does not know one another. Still others wonder whether we should celebrate Eucharist at all if we find ourselves divided and still in need of reconciliation with one another. They remind us that Jesus said to leave our gift at the altar and be reconciled with our sister and brother before offering our gift. If we inquire further, we discover yet more serious roots of the current questioning of the place of the Eucharist in our religious lives. The Eucharist may appear to be a devotional practice which, while important, is somehow peripheral to other concerns which claim our energies. The real task that 178 The Eucharist: Heart of Community / 179 the question of the place of the Eucharist in our lives sets before us is the identification of what constitutes the center of our common life. Is our service of the poor our focal point? Is our common life? Does the inspiration for our religious adaptation and reform repose in fundamentally non-sacramental realities such as community, authority, Chapter enactments, the Constitution, our apostolates, our charism? Or can we say that our sacramental life is our center, and that all these important, but non-sacramental, aspects of our life are means rather than ends in themselves. That is, they are the means of extending and making concrete and specific the sacramental reality which first defines our life together. These pages cannot solve the problems of conflicting schedules; nor do they pretend to offer a complete theology of the Eucharist. They do propose, however, to examine some connections between the Eucharist and religious community. It is only after we grasp this connection that we will be equipped to address the more concrete questions concerning our daily eucharistic celebration. Religious Life: An Ecclesial Life The basis for the connection between the Eucharist and religious com-munity is, first, the relationship between religious life and the Church and, second, the close association between the sacraments of baptism and Eucharist. The first presupposition is that religious life is fundamentally ecclesial. More than simply a manner of living within the Church, religious life is directly oriented to the Church. This is evident within our own tradition when we recall St. Vincent de Paul's description of the Daughters of Charity as "daughters of the Church." The ecclesial character of religious consecra-tion is further evident in its sacramental foundation, baptism. In baptism we are incorporated into the body of Christ and his Church and our religious life is an attempt to live out the implications of our baptism, and thus this incorporation, in a radical way. As a radical living out of the baptismal commitment, religious life is equally a living out of our identity as ecclesial women. This theology appears in our Constitution where we state: As Christians united personally by baptism to Jesus Christ and to his body, the Church, the Sisters of Charity of Leavenworth . . . are women who view baptism as the most significant event in our lives and who have responded freely to the Divine call to express this consecration more fully by profession of the evangelical counsels of poverty, chastity and obedience lived in apostolic and communal love (Constitution, n. 3). The decree of the Second Vatican Council, Perfectae Caritatis, refers Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 to this ecclesial~orientation when it urges religious to "more and more live and think with the Church," and "dedicate themselves wholeheartedly to its mission (n. 6).'.' If our unity as a Church is the unity in the Spirit of the body of Christ, and if our identity as religious women is inseparable from 0u¢ identity as ecclesial women, then it follows that the source of our unity is radically identical with that of the Church. In other words, our unity is baptismal and eucharistic. From this close association between religious and ecclesial life, it follows that the relationship between the Eucharist and religious community will be analogous to that between the Eucharist and the Church. The Unity of Baptism and Eucharist The second theological presupposition is that baptism and Eucharist are intrinsically related. Consequently, if religious life is a radical living of the baptismal commitment, it is no less a eucharistically centered life. The Eucharist is not simply that which we receive when we come together as the Church. Nor is it primarily a celebration of who we are as a believing community. The Church does not exist prior to the Eucharist, but is formed and created by it. This may appear at first as paradoxical, for in a sense a minister and community are necessary for the celebration of the sacrament. One may also object that the Christian community is formed by baptism rather than the Eucharist. This, however, ~eparates the sacraments of initia-tion when they should instead be seen as a unity. Baptism is indeed incorpora-tion into the Church, but the culmination or fulfillment of the sacraments of initiation, and thus baptism, is the Eucharist. Initiation into the Church is incomplete without the reception of the Eucharist which is incorporation into the historical body of Christ sacramentally present in our world. This is evident in the rite of initiation in the Eastern Church where baptism, confir-mation and Eucharist are conferred within the same ceremony. Baptism and the Eucharist.are closely associated, first, because both are intrinsically related to Christ's Paschal Mystery. In the Eucharist we proclaim the death of the Lord until he comes (1 Co 11: 26). In the eucharistic sacrifice the victory and triumph of Christ are again made present (Sacrosanctum Concilium, I. 6). In baptism we are plunged into the Paschal Mystery of Christ, die with him to sin, are buried with him, and rise with him to a new life in Christ (Rm 6:4; Ep 2:6; Col 3:1; 2 Tm 2:11). Second, both baptism and the Eucharist are means of incorporation into the body of Christ. The text of 1 Co 12:12-13 makes this clear regarding baptism: Just as a human body, tho.ugh it is made up of many parts, is a single unit because all these parts, though many, make one body, so it is with Christ. The Eucharist: Heart of Community In the one Spirit we were all baptized, Jews as well as Greeks, slaves as well as citizens, and one Spirit was given to us all to drink. It is precisely as members of Christ's body that we share in his death and resurrection through baptism (Rm 6: 3-4). The Eucharist is a further means of participation in the body of Christ as is evident in 1 Co 10: 16-17: The cup of blessing which we bless, is it not a participation in the blood of Christ? The bread which we break, is it not a participation in the body of Christ? Because there is one bread, we who are many are one body, for we all partake of the one bread. In the final analysis, therefore, we are incorporated in Christ by both baptism and the Eucharist, the principal reason why they are both considered sacraments of initiation. Initiation into the Church differs from initiation into human societies precisely because it is sacramental. This means not only that through the sign of the sacrament we are initiated into membership in the body of Christ, but that this union with Christ is really achieved now, and is itself a sign of the final eschatological union that all the blessed will share with Christ and with one another. The Eucharist is causative of the Church because the unity of the Church is not that of an aggregate of individuals, a collectivity which exists prior to or independently of Christ, but the unity of a body. In the Eucharist we are nourished by the body and blood of Jesus Christ, and, being vivified by that body, we become one. Consequently, the unity of the Church does not exist metaphysically prior to or apart from its union with and incorporation in Christ. To grasp this profound interconnection between the Church and the Eucharist requires that we think sacramentally rather than according to the categories of human societies and organizations. The temptation throughout history has been to pattern the Church according to the models of society current at the time--in our day the democratic model. The Mystery in which we are invited to participate transcends merely human structures. An example of the shift required in our perception is that while that which we eat is normally transformed into our own flesh and blood, in the sacrament we. are assimilated to Christ, not he to us. The unity of the Church is not a moral unit~, sustained by the good will and cooperation of those consenting to be united, but rather is the unity created on the initiative of Christ who offers us the New Covenant. The Ecclesial Dimension of the Eucharist We believe that sacraments are efficacious signs of God's grace. Therefore we believe that what is signed by the sacrament achieves its effect in us both Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 individually and communally. The sign of the Eucharist is our partaking of Christ's body, efficaciously signified by the bread and wine. Sacramental realism assures us that that which is both signed and effected is our union with Christ, and, as 1 Co 10 indicates~ our union with one another. In tradi-tional eucharistic theology this effect of the Eucharist has been- called the res tantum, and is none other than the unity of the ecclesial body, the Church. This unity is the union of the members with their head, Christ. Since the middle of the twelfth century, largely in response to the eucharistic controversy involving Berengarius, eucharistic theology has fre-quently concentrated on eucharistic realism. Great care has been exerted to emphasize the fact that Christ is really and truly present in the Eucharist. While this truth is of incomparabl~ worth within eucharistic theology, the care to correct a heretical eucharistic theology led to the neglect of the ecciesial dimension of the sacrament. A eucharistic piety that focuses too narrowly and exclusively on the real presence often misses the ecclesial signification of the sacrament, as well as its context within salvation history. The Eucharist in addition to and precisely because it is the sacramental presence of Christ within history is anamesis (remembrance) as well as antici-pation. As remembrance it is the representation of the sacrifice of Christ as well as the fulfillment of the typological prefigurations of Christ's sacrifice in the Old Testament. As anticipation it looks ahead to the final eschato-logical union of all the blessed with Christ at the end time. The final union of the members of Christ with their head is what St. Augustine called the "whole Christ." Thus the Eucharist is an instance of what theologians call "realized eschatology." That is, that which will be complete at the end time eschatologically is already present in a real, but incomplete form. We are really united with Christ now in the present time, but this union prefigures a complete union for which we work, pray, and wait. In a similar manner, we are really sacramentally united with one another, but our unity is still imperfect. Concrete Consequences of a Eucharistic Ecclesiology Once this is seen, certain corollaries become evident. First, the referent of the sacrament, that is, that which it signs, is both the Christ who died, rose and ascended to the Father as well as the eschatological union of all the blessed with Christ. Thus the sacrament effects this union in the present, but its ultimate referent transcends the present as it anticipates this final union. This means that the primary referent of the Eucharist is not the immanent worshipping community or exclusively the presence of the Christ within the community. The Eucharist is not a celebration of unity achieved apart from our union with Christ and prior.to the Eucharist, but effects The Eucharist: Heart of Community / 183 and anticipates that for which we hope as Christians--final, irrevocable union in Christ. This means that we do not wait until we experience perfect union before we approach the Eucharist. If a community stands in need of reconcilia-tion, it should indeed work so that it is in fact what it proclaims itself to be in word, namely, Christian community. However, just as we do not save ourselves but ask for salvific grace, so our reconciliation is not entirely our work but something worked within us by the grace of God with our cooper-ation. The Eucharist is not only a sign of unity, but effects unity and recon-ciliation; Secondly, the community which gathers for eucharistic worship is not required to be an intimate, homogeneous group. The universality of the kingdom of God, the body of Christ, indicates that those ecclesial communities which most accurately reflect the universal vocation to union with God may be the most diverse of groups, often anonymous, where faith in our common vocation transcends the diversity of races, nations and walks of life. This does not me.an that we should not work for a more ideal realization of como munity but rather that such an ideal should not become a prior condition of eucharistic worship. Third, although in the Eucharist we receive the sacramental presence of Christ, the primary focus of the sacrament is communal rather than indi-vidual. We approach the Eucharist as a Christian community who celebrates the great things the Lord has done for us in his life, death and rising. The Eucharist as anamesis, that is, remembrance, sacramental presence and pledge of our. future hope, reminds us that we are a people in the midst of the history of God's salvific plan for us. This communal and historical focus of the sacrament is the primary reason why communion services can never be an adequate substitute for the celebration of the Eucharist. These services, even under the best of circumstances, emphasize the individual's reception of the sacramental presence of Christ rather than the community's immersion in salvation history with its celebration of a past event sacramentally present, itself a sign of a future reality. The Eucharist is properly word and sacra, ment, the sacrament representing more than the presence of Christ's body and blood. It is also the presence of that sacrifice which renders that body and blood efficacious for our salvation. Objective vs. Subjective Meaning of the Eucharist One of the problems today is that we may~be confusing "meaning" with "meaningfulness." The first is an objective category while the second is s~ubjective. When we experience the liturgy as dull and lifeless, apparently divorced from the rest of our lives, we are tempted to say that it has "lost Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 meaning" for us. In this instance what we really mean is that it has ceased to be meaningful. The Eucharist obviously has not lost its objective meaning as the sacramental presence of Christ within human history, as the Christian community's remembrance and representation of Christ's salvific death and rising, as an efficacious sign of our future union in Christ. Our experience, therefore, is more of a statement about ourselves than about the objective meaning of what takes place at our eucharistic liturgy. It is a statement 6f our inability to consciously live and celebrate what we believe, of the incongruity between our life as a Christian community and what the Eucharist calls us to be as a community. Indeed, we may experience fragmentation, boredom and disunion but this experience is a call to recon-ciliation, a call to approach the altar once again so that that which we cele-brate liturgically may be integral with the whole of our life, a call to pray for a more lively faith. It is likewise a call to contribute our best efforts so that our liturgical prayer, through sign and symbol, awakens, fortifies and expresses our faith. Even though it is a mistake to confuse meaning with meaningfulness, we are not excused from the efforts necessary for good liturgical celebration, including personal prayer and reading of Scripture as well as the more proxi-mate preparations of celebrants, musicians and artists. Sacraments are signs, and signs are of their nature human, subject to expressing more or less adequately what they signify. The liturgical renewal enjoined by Vatican II calls for a more active participation on the part of the faithful so that the liturgy can be the "outstanding means by which the faithful can express ~n their love, and manifest to others, the mystery of Christ and the real nature of the true Church" (Sacrosanctum Concilium, n. 2). Within eucharistic theology there exists an objective and subjective di-mension of the sacrament. Traditionally this has been referred to as the opus operatum, the work effected by Christ, and the opus operantis. This latter term originally referred to the disposition of the celebrant. The dis-tinction between the two terms explained how a Mass celebrated by a priest in a state of serious sin was still valid although not spiritually fruitful for him. Recent writers have extended the meaning of opus operantis to refer to the cooperation with and active reception of grace by the believer. In the opus operatum, the objective element of the sacrament, we are assured that Christ is really present. In the second, the subjective element, we receive grace, and the sacrament is "fruitful" with our growth in faith, hope and charity. The question of meaning vs. meaningfulness can, in part, be expressed as the relation between the objective reality of the sacrament, the opus oper-atum, and the subjective disposition of the recipient, the opus operantisl The Eucharist: Heart of Community Our sacramental celebrations may appear arid when the ecclesial reality of the sacrament does not find expression in a renewed commitment to Christ and his Church. Some writers, including Karl Rahner, discuss the frequency of eucharistic celebration with reference to the opus operantis, saying that this frequency should be governed by the conditions which make it possible for us to receive the sacrament fruitfully, with conscious faith and the psychic energy necessary to enter subjectively into that which we celebrate objectively. Two extremes are to be avoided. First, within the context of the communal character of the Eucharist, it is obvious that it is not question of increasing grace by multiplying the number of eucharistic celebr.ations one attends. This not only emphasizes the individual rather than the com-munal nature of the Eucharist, but it also quantifies grace, distorting its primarily relational character. However, it is equally a mistake to expect each 0"f our eucharistic celebrations to be a peak religious experience. An excessive emphasis on our preparation and readiness for the Eucharist makes it our work rather than God's gift and action on. us. In the Eucharist we are invited once again to enter into the New Covenant. Within the vicissitudes of our life we need to be invited to this oft~en, perhaps even daily. The Lord's Prayer provides,us with the model for the dailiness of our eucharistic celebration for when we ask for our daily bread, this is no less than the Bread of Life. However, this emphasis on the ideal of a daily celebration need be neither slavish nor mechanistic. The essential is to realize that the Eucharist is truly the sacramental focal point of our reli-gious life together. Once this is realized and lived, the frequency of our eucharistic celebration will not be so much a question of legislation as that which is truly possible within our individual circumstances and the expression of who we are as ecclesial women. The relationship between Eucharist and religious community is parallel to the relationship between the Church and the Eucharist. Within ecclesiology today there are many theologies competing with a eucharistic ecclesiology. The search for relevance and liberation has prompted dialogue on what con-stitutes salvatio.n, whether it represents liberation from oppressive societal structures and/or whether it is more properly a release from the bondage of sin. Much of what is good within this discussion represents a healthy correction of the excessive individualism which has plagued us since the Enlightenment. An excessive emphasis on intra-worldly goals of this liberation is now being cort~ected within a broader vision of the drama of sin and grace in the world. That these same tensions are reflected in religious life is no accident since religious life is fundamentally ecclesial. In many ways a religious commu-nity is a microcosm of the larger Church. Within this perspective it is not "186 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 sufficient that we pray together, serve the poor and live a common life, We can do all these things without being a religious community. Although our charism is to serve the poor, our primary identity is not that of the social worker. Furthermore, there are times when the non-sacramental aspects of our life lead us away from our true identity as a religious community. For instance, we may become excessively work-orierited. While work for the kingdom is praiseworthy, a certain attitude distorts our work so that it becomes something which we undertake, initiate. Our events replace the Christ event. Communal efforts become our action rather than God's action on us, and the Eucharist becbmes a devotional practice rather than the most fundamental expression of the reality of our lives. The Eucharist is the heart of religious community because it is the histor-ical presence of the New Covenant which unites that community with its Lord. Our primary identity is to be a eucharistic community in union with Christ. Our service of others then flows as a consequence of what the Eucharist means--as a response of thankfulness for what the Lord has done for us, as the service modeled by. Christ at the Last Supper, as a means of facilitating the union of all in Christ. It is then that we can truly say that the Eucharist is the focal point of our lives. Good Friday, April 1, 1983 Gently running, delicate raindrops--spring rain as tears from the windows of my soul. The clear-paned pain allows me to glimpse the promise of life within the dry earth, within myself. Suffering and tears stir tender blossoms deep inside. They struggle to break through the crusty-hard shell, to lift themselves to the long-promised warmth of the loving Son. Sister Mary Therese Macys, S.S.C. 2601 W. Marquette Road Chicago, Illinois 60629 Learning from the Worldly Leo D. Davis, S.J. Father Davis, a member of the Jesuits' Oregon Province, presently resides in Italy, where he may be addressed: Via Spaventa, 4; 50129 Firenze,: Italy. "For the worldly are more astute than the other worldly in dealing with their own kind" (Lk 16:8). Desperate for American reading material while in a foreign country, ] dipped recently into one of the national best sellers of a few years .back, Peters and Waterman's In Search of Excellence: Lessons from America's Best-Run Companies (New York: Warner °Books, 1982). Though not ordi-narily a reader of business literature, I found the book absorbing, not as a study of American business success, but as an indication of why many religious institutes, including my own, fail specifically as organizations to reach their goals. Of course, we religious are not primarily in business: auxiliary to our main purposes we do run businesses. These auxiliary enter-prises, however, are not my concern in this article. Rather, I'm interested in how we organize and conduct ~urselves in spreading the Word of God and serving our neighbor. Can we learn from successful business con-cerns how to do this better? I I~ave it to the readers themselves to judge after considering Peters and Waterman's findings. The two studied sixty-two corporations in the fields of high tech-nology, consumer goods, services, industrial supplies, management and resources. They wanted to discover just what makes these firms leaders in their fields. They found that all agree on an eight point philosophy in doing business. Contr'~ry to what one might expect from business men out to make a 187 11~8 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 buck, the authors argue that hardheaded rationality is not enough to suc-ceed. International Telephone and Telegraph, for example, was managed in a rigidly national fashion, and failed. The war in Vietnam was largely run from the Pentagon by Robert McNamara's Ford Company technical "whiz kids," and we all know the outcome. Mere technique however sophisticated, won't do the trick. Planning, long and short range, is needed, but planning can often become an end in itself. Of three hundred twenty-five planning task forces studied, none had yet finished its task after three years of work. Task forces, the authors suggest, should be small, limited in time, volun-tary, and contain some senior staff. Their work should call for no addi-tional staff and produce a minimum of documentation. Follow-up on their recommendations should be swift. Paper shuffling among executives and back and forth between executives and managers can stifle all action. Analysis can lead to . paralysis. Gamesmanship and contention in committees replace action. As one executive commented, it is easier to develop a negative argument f~r doing nothing than to advance a constructive one which issues in action. The authors argue that major concerns should be dealt with one at a time. More than two objectives for a task force mean no objectives at all. There should be constant communication, constant keeping in touch with the realities and persons involved in decisions. Communications should be short and clear; the authors cite the famous practice of Procter and Gamble in restricting all memoranda to a single page. Chaotic action is preferable to no action at all. Experimentation and testing ideas in prac-tice is better than just talking about problems. Get people acting and they solve their problems, and come to believe in what they're doing. Close to the Customer As religious, we're not, as such, selling goods to customers, but we are dealing with people. What are the needs, tastes, preferences of those with whom we deal? Are we willing to put ourselves out for others? The successful companies know their clientele and go to great lengths to serve them. Thomas Watson of International Business Machines had a simple philosophy: We want to give the best customer service of any company in the world. He guaranteed answering any customer complaint in twenty-four hours. Caterpillar Tractors guarantees forty-eight hour service to any country of the world. Frito-Lay aims at a 99.5 percent rate of service in peddling their products; they will spend several hundred dollars to restock a remote store with thirty dollars worth of potato chips. But their reputa-tion for reliability in the end outweighs the short term costs. I'm reminded Learning from the Worldly of an old priest colleague of mine who was preaching to the coffee room audience on service; when a telephone call interrupted him, he told the caller to see him during office hours--and continued his harangue with no sense of incongruity. The Disney people realize what service means; sixteen-year old ticket takers at Disneyland are put through four eight-hour days of training just so they can take tickets with the Disney elan. McDonald's scores of billions of hamburgers are sold by insistence on cleanliness, efficient ser-vice, uniform quality and reliability. Burgers not sold ten minutes after cooking are thrown out; french fries, after seven minutes; and their cashiers are taught to have eye contact with the customers. The authors give an example of the extraordinary lengths to which some companies will go. When a woman complained about a foul-up with a discount air ticket, she wrote to the president of Delta Airlines. The president of the corporation himself met her at the airport and per-sonally presented her with a new ticket. All these companies stress quality. McDonald's, with seven thousand restaurants doing 2.5 billion dollars worth of business annually, tell their stockholders: Quality is the first word in McDonald's motto. Digital Com-puter's philosophy states: "Growth is not our principal goal. Our goal is to be a quality organization and'do a quality job, which means that we will be proud of our work and products for years to come. As we achieve quality, growth will come as a result." There's food for thought here for religious experiencing a decline in vocations. The lonely Maytag serviceman of the TV ads is a symbol of the company's guarantee of ten years' trouble-free operation of any machine. Hewlett-Packard is obsessed with quality; ask them about personnel, they talk quality; ask about sales, they talk quality; ask about management, they talk quality. The president of Heineken Beer says bluntly, "I consider a bad bottle of Heineken a personal insult to me." Until recently, the eighty-two-year-old founder of Marriott Hotels read every complaint card personally. Productivity Through People All members of an organization should be made aware that their best efforts are essential to success and that they will share in that success. Here again we religious in the ranks are not mere employees in the ministries of our institutes. In fact, many times we might be better off in some of America's best companies than at the hands of some religious superiors. One executive complained to the authors: People issues take up all my time. To them he was really saying that his business would be easy to run if it weren't for people. But corporations, like religious institutes, 190 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 are people. Those who work in them should be treated as adults and as partners, with dignity and respect. This doesn't mean that they be mollycoddled; they should be given reasonable and clear expectations, and practical autonomy to get the job done. In a study of school teachers, the authors point out it was found that when they held high expectations of their students, that alone was enough to cause an increase of twenty-five points in the students' IQ scores. Workers should understand what is being done and why. Peters and Waterman quote Admiral Zumwalt's method of reorganizing Navy prac-tices: What I tried hardest to do was ensure that every officer and sailor on the ship not only knew what we were about, not only why we were doing each tactical operation, however onerous, but also managed to understand enough about how it all fitted together so that they began to experience some of the fun and challenge that those of us in the top slot were having. 1 knew from experience the impact of treating sailors like the mature adults they were. Dedicated religious women and men deserve no less. Communication between superiors and ranks cannot be mere lip ser-vice, mere gimmicks, but must be a sincere effort to make all really part of the team. Sam Walton has built a company from eighteen to three hun-dred thirty stores, with sales rising from forty-five million dollars, to 1.6 billion dollars and the process made his family the richest in the United States. He always calls his employees "associates." "The key is to get out and hear what the associates have to say," he states. "It's terribly important for everyone to get involved." For him this is not lip service: one sleepless night he went down to the loading dock with four dozen donuts and talked to his "associates." He learned that they needed two more shower stalls in the wash room--and they got them. This is a sur-prising degree of concern in an executive running a 1.6 billion dollar com-pany. Again, when Thomas Watson first took over IBM, he was not out to shake up the company by wholesale transfers and firings, but to buff and polish those already in place so their performance would improve; his bone-deep belief, says his son, was respect for the individual. Peters and Waterman suggest some simple rules iia the treatment of workers: all important communication should be face to face; there should be opportunity for career education; there should be security in their posi-tions. Superiors should be accessible to all, their doors always open. Finally, there should be incentives. "A man wouldn't sell his life to Learning from the Worldly you, but he would give it to you for a piece of colored ribbon," says a war correspondent about soldiers in World War lI. The best corporations go to extraordinary lengths to reward good performance, creating oppor-tunities for showering pens, badges, buttons and medals on their people. At Mars Candy everyone on time for work during the week gets a ten percent bonus; IBM has a "gold circle" for top salespersons; Tupperware senior management spend thirty days a year at "jubilees" for outstanding performers; one company even puts gold stars on a public bulletin board after the names of those who don't miss work. Religious might well feel out of place in an atmosphere like this. Indeed, our vocation is not to look for rewards but to dedicate ourselves to the selfless service of God and neighbor. But superiors, on their side, should be aware of the value of incentives; nothing is more powerful than positive reinforcement. This, the authors advise, should be specific, tan-gible and frequent. They point to a model of motivation in a Procter and Gamble executive who, red in the face and vehement, told a Stanford University seminar: "Just because the product is toilet paper doesn't mean that Procter and Gamble doesn't make it a damn sight better than anyone else." The executive, he continues, is called to help fulfill the individ-ual's search to transcend himself or herself, to avoid isolation and the fear of helplessness, to give people a sense of being, in control of their des-tiny. High performance is based on intrinsic motivations: people must believe that a task is inherently worthwhile if they are to be committed to it. All this to sell toilet paper! Hands On, Value Driven Management The authors insist that the successful executive keeps in close touch not only with personnel but with the firm's essential business. Again Thomas Watson of IBM: "I believe the real difference between success and failure in a corporation can very often be traced to the question of how well the organization brings out the great energies and talents of its people . I firmly believe that any organization, in order to survive and achieve success, must have a sound set of beliefs on which it premises all its policies and actions. Next, I believe that the most important single factor in corporate success is faithful adherence to those beliefs. And, finally, I believe if an organization is to meet the challenge of a changing world, it must be prepared to change everything about itself except those beliefs . " The institutional leader is primarily an expert in the promotion and protection of values. The basic values: a belief in being the best; in the "" "109 / Review for Reiigious, March-April, 1987 importance of the details of execution; in the importance of people as indi-viduals; in superior quality and service; in supporting innovation and tolerating failure. The effective leader must be a master of two ends of the spectrum--ideas at the highest level and actions at the most mundane levels of detail. The top performers create a broad, uplifting, shared: cul-ture, a coherent framework within which charged up people search for appropriate adaptations. The real leader does' not force others to submit and follow him by the sheer overwhelming magic of his personality. He is influential in inspiring and strengthening them; he arouses confidence. Success in instilling values appears to have little to do with charismatic personality. Rather it derives from obvious, sincere, sustained personal commitment to the values the leader seeks to implant, coupled with extraordinary persistence in reinforcing these values. Hewlett- Packard advises its executives to wander around, being approachable, accessible, listening, keeping people informed. Others advise: don't summon people to your office; go see them. Kill grimness with laughter; maintain an atmosphere of informality; encourage exuberance. Without such hands on management, it seems nothing much happens. Stick to the Knitting By this Peters and Waterman mean, "Remain with the business you know best." Organizations that do branch out but stick close to their orig-inal purpose outperform others. Successful companies enter only those businesses that build on, draw strength from, and enlarge some central area of competence. ITT began as an international telephone company, but the tools that it took to run a phone company in Chile didn't help much in the management of newly acquired Continental Baking and Sheraton Hotels. The result was that ITT had to sell off thirty-three busi-nesses. The lesson is never acquire a business you don't know how to run. Minnesota Mining and Manufacturing, makers of Scotch tape, make fifty thousand other products and introduce one hundred new ones each year, but all is built around its central coating-and~bonding technology. Procter and Gamble is good at soap, but Pringles' potato chips, machined to uniform size in a neat box, is an apparent failure from the standpoint of consumer taste. Simple.Form, Lean Staff The authors are passionate advocates of clear, simple structural organization so that everyone knows to which boss to report. Some staff gain power by keeping everything vague and unclear. Outlaws can use the lack of clarity to their own advantage and to the detriment of the whole. Learning from the Worldly / 193 With simple organization, fewer staff are needed at headquarters to make things work. Emerson Electric, with fifty-four thousand personnel, has one hundred in corporate headquarters; Dava Industries, with thirty-five thousand, has one hundred; Schlumberger, an oil service company with six billion dollars worth of business annually, has ninety cprporate staff. The Society of Jesus in its headquarters in Rome has ninety-five on the corporate staff for only 25,500 personnel. The story goes around Jesuit circles that at one time our largest province had more departmental provincials than first year novices. "Less is more" in corporate manage-hment, say Peters and Waterman. Simultaneous Loose-Tight Properties By this the authors mean fostering a climate in which there is dedica-tion to the central values of the company combined with tolerance for all employees who accept these values. The central values must be carefully fostered and protected, yet autonomy, entrepreneurship and innovation should flourish among the rank and file. The discipline of shared values provides the framework for all the rest. It gives people confidence to exper-iment stemming from stable expectations of what really counts. Too much overbearing discipline kills autonomy but the discipline of shared values encourages innovation. Rules should reinforce positive traits and not just discourage negative ones. The company should offer meaning, provide guiding belief, create a sense of excitement, a sense of being part of the best, a sense of producing something of quality that is valued. Basic .values should be set in concrete, and executed by attention to mundane, nitty-gritty details. Every hour, everyday is an opportunity to act in sup-port of overarching themes. A lively sense of realism enforces tight disci-pline; the attention to the desires and needs of the clientele is the most stringent means of self-discipline. Autonomy and Entrepreneurship Tight discipline and preservation of basic values should not interfere with a stress on innovation, and a tolerance of failure for those who fail in the pursuit of innovation. Some companies support "skunk works" where the talented mavericks of the business brainstorm and experiment. All of this must be coupled with constant communication and the dogged persistence of innovators to put their ideas across. Interestingly enough, physical proximity is vital in this communica-tion. The authors point out that people working thirty feet apart meet each other only eight to nine percent of the time, while those working only fif-teen feet apart meet twenty-five percent of the time. They maintain that 194 / Roview for Religious, March-April, 1987 the best companies do their work in large, self-contained, campus-like headquarters outside the city. What does all this add up to? What I've tried to say in a modern idiom and detail drawn from actual studies is only what St. Paul told his Corinthians: "You know (do you not?) that at sports all the runners run the race, though only one wins the prize. Like them, run to win! But every athlete goes into strict training. They do it to win a fading wreath; we, a wreath that never fades" (1 Co 9:24-25). The "Active-Contemplative" Problem in Religious Life by David M. Knight Price: $.75 per copy, plus postage. Add ress: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 Modern Media and the Religious Sense of Community Matthias Neuman, O.S.B. Father Neuman is well known to our readers. His last article in these pages was entitled "Personality and Religious Adjustments in Older Candidates" (May/June, 1986). Father Neuman continues to teach at St. Meinrad Seminary; St.Meinrad, Indiana 47577. Back in the sixth century St. Benedict, in his Rule, included a short chap-ter on "The Proper Amount of Drink." To modem ears some of its sug-gestions may seem mildly humorous, yet in context a radical practicality pervades the .thought of this monastic genius. We read that monks should not drink wine at all, but since the monks of our day cannot be convinced of this, let us at least agree to drink mod-erately and not to the point of excess, for wine makes even the ffise to go astray.' Were this same St. Benedict composing a rule for a religious order of the late twentieth century it is quite likely he would feel the need to insert a chapter on "The Proper Amount of Watching Television" with similar suggestions and pleas .for moderation. For few would be the reli-gious men and women today who would agree that they should avoid all television. This article treats some of the background issues which would lead to that hypothetical modern chapter on the proper amount of television. Actually the topic goes far beyond television to include all manner of modem electronic media: radio, stereo systems, cassette players, tele-phones, VCRs and, most recently, computers (can spiritual video games be far behind'?). What religious house is there that has not felt the inva- 195 Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 sion of this technology? What communities today do not admit into for-mation programs young people shaped by a high-intensity media culture? The electronic media have, for better or worse, become part of the ethos of life in twentieth-century America. My basic premise suggests that the presence of these media has influ-enced the communal shape of religious community life far more drastically than we may initially surmise. Surely the use of such media affect common schedules (viewing a late "Special" on some current event) and budgets ("Our office must have a computer!"). Beyond these surface impacts the involvement with media slowly but surely has shifted our very sense of what community means and how we associate as social persons. To media theorists one of the major human effects of all cultural media, and particularly electronic media, is to create a very specific and delimited realization of "being together," a style of how people gather and interact.'- For example, television gathers people physically, but focuses their communal attention outwardly and away from the people around them. Relentlessly sustained participation in such media experi-ences will alter slowly the way one interacts and responds in all situa-tions. Television creates an instant community which passively watches. As an interesting sidelight, when television first began to be widely commercial in the 1950s the leading American theorist on communica-tions flatly predicted that it would never be a success because "people would have to sit in a dark room and ignore each other." One might wonder how far that attitude has affected our religious sense of com-munity? Other entertainment media besides television reinforce this psy-chological separation or distancing from one's immediate surroundings and relationships. Cassettes and stereos supply individual, isolated encoun-ters with music and detached thoughts. Now with portable stereo and ear-phones we can eat, recreate, shop or work, and clearly advertise that we wish no personal contact with anyone immediately around us. The tele-phone brings instant contact over worldwide distances; we start to belong to a global network embracing an incredibly wide range of personal connections. Without our being that aware, these daily immersions into media experience adjust our expectations of personal relationships. In par-ticular they change the way we are involved with the people immediately around us. The previous issue is a critical one for vowed religious who have a spiritual stake in the meaning and practice of community life. According to the Church's law, participation in community is essential for one to be considered a religious by the Church;3 in contemporary theology the for- Modern Media and Community mation of authentic community is praised as a preeminent goal of Chris-tian life and ministry; and in many modern forms of spirituality the very notion of community inclines toward the realizing of the Trinitarian mys-tery of God.4 But with the arrival of the electronic community we had better stop and take a careful look at what precise actions are implied in the linguistic usage of "community jargon." Under the surface we may find a clash of world views taking place, a clash that undermines real com-munity, an undermining that gnaws away in the midst of people busily doing their daily work, living their lives, and talking incessantly about community as an important aspect of their lives. A brief comparison of these contrasting world views of community might focus our reflections. The ancient notion of "religious" com-munity, as traditionally used of the Church as a whole or of particular vowed communities, rested on a conviction of human solidarity borrowed from the goals, structures and attitudes of a close-knit, agrarian, craft-based or familial society. Community here meant the composite of ways that people lived, worked, prayed and played together. The goal of such sustained daily interaction was communal solidarity, mutual commitment, the sharing of hopes and values in a communality of life. The structures which embedded those goals aimed at a slow, patient, day-by-day, elbow-by- elbow building up of emotional bonds and support systems. Just as one learned to love in familially-arranged marriages, so one learned to be a member of a vowed community by the shaping of common intentions formed through daily work and prayer. These community goals and struc-tures depended on social routines of living that stressed the physical prox-imity and sharing of participants over the long haul of life. This religious vision of community was a prize to be won through sustained work and prayer. The concluding words of the Prologue to the Rule of St. Benedict exemplify perfectly this ancient vision: Therefore we intend to establish a school for the Lord's service. In draw-ing up its regu!ations, we hope to set down nothing harsh, nothing bur-densome. The good of all concerned, however, may prompt us to a little strictness in order to amend faults and to s~ifeguard love. Do not be daunted immed!.ately by fear and run away from the road that leads to salvation. It is bound to be narrow at the outset. But as we progress in this way of life and in faith, we shall run on the path of God's commandments, our hearts overflowing with the inexpressible delight of love. Never swerving from his instructions, then, but faithfully observ-ing his teaching in the monastery until death, we shall through patience share in the sufferings of Christ that we may deserve also to share in his kingdom.5 1911 Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 How divergent appears the community of the electronic mindset! It presents instantaneous intentions drawn from anywhere in the world, and on any topic, from far bey6nd the gathered viewers, and its heightened visual intensity etches those intentions into the awareness of participants. Electronic media joins the viewers automatically to a national and world community. The communal intentions that bind us here are all given by what the media chooses to focus on and present. The solidarity of the elec-tronic community does not flow from a patient and lengthy building up of common intentions, but,from the impulsive response to instantaneously given themes. It is a fragile solidarity indeed. Its communality depends on intensity to maintain interest. (So it must deal with a topic ever more heatedly-~or find a new topic.) And media are powerfully effective! By themselves the media constitute a very real and engaging psychological support system. Any individual can retire to the privacy of his or. her room and by means of TV, radio or stereo be in touch with any particular psychological input (to soothe, to excite, to reinforce love, to wal,low in nostalgia). It is a support system that dispenses with flesh and blood people. It is instant electronic community, and is radically different from the older notion of religious community founded on agrarian, craft and familial social patterns. This latter style has been the traditional founda-tion of vowed religious community life in the Church, but it is being increasingly challenged by the newer media style. The critical point I wish to raise is this: if religi6us communities of today believe they can continue to stress and intend the older form of com-munity while allowing the ever-spreading presence and use of electronic media, they are sadly deceiving themselves. Houses in which many indi-viduals hold active ministerial positions in the Church and society must face the challenge more acutely; these people need bolstering in stronger doses. Their increased emotional drain begs for a multitude of psy-chological supports. Make no mistake! Electronic media constitute a pow-erful psychological support system, and by themselves they can under-mine the traditional ethos of familial religious community. The inherent reason that electronic media form such a strong psy-chological buttress lies in their ability to alter the fundamental shape of our sense perceiving. Lengthy exposure to media causes differences in the balancing of sight, hearing, touch and balance. Marshall McLuhan, the great pioneer of media theory, noted that electronic media create an instant sensorium, synthesizing sight, sound and touch simultaneously.~ The music video (MTV) is a perfect example of instantaneous multiple sensual involvement. Through this complex sensory input the perceiver's emotions "heat up" quickly; they can attain an intense level of inner Modern Media and Community involvement, and even psychologically remove the perceiver from the pressures of the present. If I happen to be dealing with some specific vexing problem and my feelings are.tired or conflictive, how smoothly a change comes from flipping on the TV or putting a favorite record on the stereo. These media generate an instant, sensual response and become a psychological support system in themselves. Many aspects of the traditional style of community life have already been affected by the intrusion of media into the daily life of religious houses. The structure and frequency of common recreation has altered sig-nificantly. I've heard many individuals either lament or factually describe the practical disappearance of large community-recreation sessions, the evening walks of many people, the diminishment of common reading rooms. In their place have appeared public television rooms, usually more than one to accommodate smokers and non-smokers (for men's houses) or Dan Rather or Tom Brokaw fans (for women's houses). In some communities the time of the evening news program has influenced the daily schedule of meals arid prayer, although the more recent advent of the video cassette has eliminated this temporary problem. The electronic media have subtly altered what people look for in rec-reation itself, that is, what we expect from and put into a period of recre-ation. In the older familial style, recreation was in part a kind of work, an effort to get to know the individuals of the community and to construct these common intentions that make a group into a true communitas. Russell Baker in his delightful autobiography, Growing Up, reminisced about his childhood evenings when the whole family would sit around the kitchen table for three hours or more, each working at some game, hobby or menial task and conversing about different aspects of their day and inter-ests. Such a scenario would be practically impossible for someone raised in today's media world; it would be the ultimate "bore." Although it is so much easier to watch television, maybe recreation for both families and religious communities needs to recapture some aspects of work and effort. Perhaps it's a modern area of life that demands a practi~:al asceticism. Maybe we should go back to ~the basics and see recreation not just as a time of personal leisure but also as a special moment for build-ing the common intentions with real people that will bond us to a particu-lar group. In the last several decades electronic media have frequently become an intrinsic part of the way some religious communities care for their elderly. Mothers with small children often refer to the television set as the "essential babysitter." The TV also gets used as companion an~ diversion for the infirm and bedridden. Has anyone ever wondered what 200 Review for~Religious, March-April, 1987 kind of psychological impact or shift in fantasy those old priests and sis-ters experience through their continual exposure (subjection) to game shows, soap operas and nighttime police stories? It's a thought worth pondering. In some cases those various media have even generated a new com-munity "official," like the custodian of the TV set or the curator of video movies. Their responsibilities are varied: get the TV guide from the Sunday paper before it disappears, tape the evening news for later rerun, moderate disputes about which programs will be watched, and so on. One final way that the media impinge on religious community life today may be in their subtle escalation of psychological depression. More than a few observers have suggested that depression is merging on becom-ing a national epidemic, the prototypical American social disease that eve-ryone seems to suffer from at one time or another. Depression results from a mixture of physical, psychological and social causes: weariness and exhaustion combine with discouragement that we have not met our expected goals within a social context that regularly fails to provide sus-taining or creative human relationships. All of these causes can be com-monly present in work-oriented, overly-structured and perfection-motivated religious houses. When someone senses the weariness and dis-couragement that keys the onset of depression, the easiest response is to plop in front of the TV set and watch "anything." It takes no effort at all. Paradoxically the unintended result may intensify those precise psy-chological and social roots of depression, the unreal expectations and the distance from people. Some psychologists have postulated a sharp link-age between TV addiction and habitual depression; the two feed each other in a vicious circle.7 Even though modern media present many difficulties, we could also point to effects which play a positive role: accurate information of world-wide import, entertainment of the highest artistic quality, and new, essen-tial ways of proclaiming the Christian message, as well as a very valid recreational dimension. St. Benedict probably would make the same kinds of concessions that he did about drinking wine. Certainly we ought to borrow his insights about moderation, as well as recognize that the media are probably here to stay in our contemporary houses. In the long run the challenge will be to discover a sense of com-munity living that binds together the older familial style of community with the newer style of spontaneous and heightened psychological interchange. Both possess strong values: the former, a powerful-sense of ptiysical togetherness in work and prayer, a set of common goals built up through repeated sharing, and the virtue of perseverance; the latter, an Modern Media and Community / 201 emphasis on the value of emotional support and a true recreational element in community. The merging of these two styles will affect all types of societal living today: the family, the social organization, the local parish, as well as the monastery. Unfortunately we have usually tended to oppose the different views in an either/or perspective. Without doubt the quality of community living has changed drastically in religious houses since those first telephones, radios and tele-vision sets were brought in. The wisdom of Benedict suggests that it's doubtful if the monks and sisters of our time can be convinced that these instruments are not good for them. So, at least, let us use them not to addiction, but to moderation. That's an incredible word of practical wisdom that resounds through the centuries! NOTES ' RB 1980: The Rule of Benedict. Edited by Timothy Fry, O.S.B., (Collegeville, MN: The Liturgical Press, 1981), p. 241. The quotation is from chapter 40, vv. 6-7. ' Margaret Miles, Image as Insight (Boston: Beacon Press, 1985), pp. 128-132, 148. 3 Canons 573, 602. Code of Canon Law (Washington, DC: Canon Law Society of America, 1983), pp. 219, 227. 4 Evelyn Eaton Whitehead and James Whitehead, Community of Faith: Models and S~t rRaBte 1gi9e8s0 f:o rT Dhee vReulolep ionfg S Ct.h Briesntieadni cCto, mppm. u1n6i5ti-e1s6 (7N.6e Mw aYrsohrakl:l SMecaLbuurhya nP,r Uesns,d 1e9r8s2ta).nd-ing Media: The Extensions of Man (New York: New American Library, 1964), pp. 57-67. See developments of these ideas by John Culkin, S.J., in McLuhan: Hot and Cool, edited by Gerald Emanuel Stem (New York: New American Library, 1967), pp. 49-57. -, 7 Jerry Mander, Four Arguments for the Elimination of Television (New York: Morr6w Quill, 1978). Also Marie Winn, The Plug-In Drug. (New York: Viking, 1977). Vocation Directors and Healthy Sexuality Sheila Murphy Dr. Murphy is a professor of psychology at Walsh College (2020 Easton St. N.W.; Canton, Ohio 44720) and is also Director of the Rogativa Center, an educational/ research facility, located on the campus, which serves the needs of women and men religious internationally. An earlier article, "Maximizing Human Potential," appeared in the issue of January/February, 1979. A vital concern to vocation directors is the healthy sexuality of the can-, didates they interview. Numerous workshops, articles, and lectures develop interviewing techniques, questions to ask, and areas to cover to facilitate directors' attempts to discover, during initial interviewing, the quality of candidates' sexuality integration. While these are all necessary and important, they represent only half of the story; the other half is the vocation director's own healthy sexuality and sexual integration. All persons are challenged to healthy sexual integration, and vocation directors, especially, must respond to this challenge because of the qual-ity and nature of their ministry. As initial gatekeepers of religious insti-tutions, their perceptions, judgments, and reactions regarding applicants determine whether of not, in many cases, candidates progress beyond expressing initial interest in a congregation or diocese. In this vital role, vocation directors need to be very clear about which interview issues are their own and which belong to the candidates. This is particularly essen-tial in the area of healthy sexuality. Healthy Sexuality--A Definition Healthy sexuality reflects the integration of the total person. Not a "separate" area of human development, sexuality is the total expression 202 Vocation Directors and Healthy Sexuality / 203 of an individual's social, intellectual, physical, and emotional develop-ment. In addition, the combination of these is also the individual's spirituality--the person's complete expression of who she or he is in rela-tionship to self, to others, and to God. Everything people do is sexual. Embodied as women or men, people express their femaleness or maleness in all aspects of their beings. As a ¯ female, for example, everything I do is sexual because I do everything as a woman; I do not function as an it, nor can I be a man. This simple yet relatively new concept was not part of the pre-Vatican theology or sociology in which most people were raised. On the contrary, most grew up in a time when sexuality was associated with genital behaviors, the epit-ome of which was heterosexual intercourse, and divorced from all other areas of human functioning. Within that limited perspective, the full gamut of interpersonal interaction, like self-disclosure, affection, and play-ful touching, were either dismissed as trivial or judged to be suspect behaviors employed as a prelude to the "real thing," i.e., genital inter-course. Also in ~this perception, people's social, emotional, and intellec-tual development were believed to be unrelated to their sexual integration. Such beliefs led to personality fragmentation, suggesting to people that they could compartmentalize their beings and their lives as if they were machines rather than vibrant, dynamic individuals. Because people are constantly emerging as persons, so, too, is their sexuality. Understandings of themselves that answered yesterday's questions may no longer be viable for today's. This all implies that a per-sonal understanding of sexuality is nbt a "one shot" insight to be devel-oped in adolescence (another myth perpetrated by the pre-Vatican II the-ology and sociology), but an ongoing struggle for authenticity. Vocation directors, like other religious, have been struggling for years to incorporate these newer understandings of self, sexuality, and spirituality into their religious lives and their ministries. A formidable task, this requires a rethinking and readapting of many teachings and beliefs that were entrenched in childhood and young-adult education. Fur-thermore, not all are in agreement regarding this concept; theologians, priests and religious continue to argue the place of sexuality in human development. As a personal and corporate enterprise, developing healthy sexuality is no easy task! Sexuality as a holistic concept suggests that the overall quality of people's lives is reflected in their interactions. If they are having difficul- .ties with their feelings, then these people will have difficulties with their sexuality. If intellectually confused or agitated, then they will be sexually and spirituhlly impeded. Feeling unaccepted by or alienated from their pri- 204 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 mary support congregation or diocese, these people will suffer other rela-tional and spiritual problems as well. Hazards of Vocation Ministry Vocatipn ministry is uniquely demanding, and recent reports and research on vocation directors indicate the importance of personal and sexual integration. Perhaps one of the most telling findings is th~ fact that the attrition rate from the ministry on the part of vocation directors exceeds sixty percent. They leave the ministry altogether either while still functioning as directors or shortly after terminating their positions. This certainly underscores the intensity and problems indigenous to this ministry. Another finding is the high rate of burnout reported by vocation directors. It is not uncommon for a vocation director to wear a variety of ministerial hats simultaneously. Many hold two or more jobs, each of which is reputed to be part-time but which, in fact, requires full-time involvement and energy. In addition to their vocation .ministry, many administrate diocesan offices (e.g., deaconate programs), function as parish pastors, or hold full-time teaching positions. They do many differ-ent things during the day, yet retire at night feeling exhausted and unfulfilled, both of which lead to apathy, resentment, and indifference-- all classic symptoms of burnout, the result of unmet personal needs. Some vocation directors report increased cynicism and hostility ~oward the people they serve. What they initially entered into with enthu-siasm and optimism has become fraught with boredom and drudgery. Another manifestation of burnout, this frequently translates into intropunitive aggression whereby some vocation directors gain an average of ten to thirty pounds a year; others convert their cynicism into increased alcohol and drug consumption. A frequent complaint of vocation directors is the pain of alienation they experience from the very groups they represent. Erratic s~hedules, travel, and workshop demands can preclude regular contact with their base group for prayers, meals, and recreation. Praying and eating alone can be lonely experiences, so vocation directoi's may seek support else-where. Sometimes they request a transfer to another community or diocese; sometimes they look outside their congregations for their primary support networks. In either case, they become increasingly disenchanted with their communities and .their work, all of which contributes to the high attrition rate reported above. Another source of alienation from base congregation and diocesan groups is the updated education most vocation directors receive. As fre- Vocation Directors and Healthy Sexuality / 205 quent participants in workshops, conferences, and regional meetings, voca-tion directors are exposed to the most recent theorizing and research in issues pertinent to religious life. They hear the latest on theological and psychological implications for richer ministerial actualization, and they are eager to implement these insights in their own communities. The base groups, not having been similarly exposed, are often confused over these "newfangled ideas" which seem to come as a shot in the dark. "After all," they reason, "this person is seldom with us. She or he is out and about, breezes in for a day or two, and expects us to change overnight without being an active member in the change process." Mutual recrimina-tions ensue; vocation directors perceive their base groups as closed to new ideas while base group members perceive vocation directors as free-wheeling individuals with their own cars, budgets, and schedules, and who enjoy the luxury of travel and trouble shooting. These conflicts play themselves out as a painful push-pull between the directors' pleas for inno-vation and the group members' refusal to budge. Vocation directors may then conclude that they can no longer, in honesty, represent their com-munities, which they have come to view as narrow-minded and static. Another source of personal frustration and community alienation for vocation directors is the intangibility of results in vocation ministry. Many congregations and seminaries stress the importance of quality candidates, yet when yearly evaluations roll around, actual "body count" seems to loom larger than quality control. Vocation directors have been known to invest enormous amounts of time and energy in candidates who, through such intense interaction, learn that ministry is not their authentic vocation. These individuals do not show up on "body count" charts, and vocation directors again find themselves trying to justify themselves as "really doing their jobs." Candidates who opt out of niinisterial pursuits have truly been ministered to. Yet how to account for such ministry is a dilemma faced by all vocation directors. ,~ Another problem reported by vocation directors is the feeling of "going crazy." Not unique to vocation directors, this symptom is fre-quently accompanied by the fragmentation experienced during normal, predictable, adult-development transitions. A person going through midlife transition while engaging in vocation ministry may feel that life has become too much to bear. Unable to differentiate ministerial issues from developmental issues, vocation directors can come to the premature and often erroneous conclusion that their work is the sole source of all their problems. Further compounding the situation is their perceived alien-ation from community, which leads vocation directors to believe that they cannot honestly voice their concerns to their brothers and sisters. 206 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 Taken together, these hazards can leave vocation directors feeling lonely and alone. Feeling alienafed, angry, and perhaps personally inade-quate, vocation directors are ripe for relational and sexual problems. Warning Signs There are many signs indicating that vocation directors are in rela-iional or sexual jeopardy. The following represent a compilation of several voiced by religious and diocesan vocation directors over the past few years. "Using relationships" can suggest poor sexual integration. This means viewing people as means to an end rather than ends in themselves. This occurs when directors approach others for what they can offer or do for them." Referring to others by title ratherthan by name--"my secre-tary," "my candidate," "my brother priest," "my sisters in community"--all are examples; they imply either ownership and/or dis-tance. The personal element is missing, suggesting that others' functions and/or commodities are more important than their persons. Some directors are plagued by pervasive anger, another signal of distorted sexual integration. They find everyone and everything upsetting, behaving as seething cauldrons of discontent. Their inability to enjoy life, to derive pleasure from people or activities, points directly to a lack of personal integration, which leads to impoverished sexual and spiritual expression. The challenge for these individuals is to identify the sources of their anger and to do what they can to rectify the situation rather than to target others inappropriately. Any increase in indulgence signals danger. Most people probably think of alcohol, drugs, or food in this regard, ,but they would be simplistic to end their list with these. Any compulsive indulgence is a warn-ing: compulsive exercise, compulsive visiting, compulsive TV viewing, and compulsive reading are a few examples. These behaviors represent a struggle to impose external controls which, individuals hope, will com-pensate for internal chaos. It is the internal fragmentation that threatens healthy integration, not the lack of food, exercise, or reading in their lives when people carry these activities to extremes. Another warning sign is preoccupation with others' relationships. These people seem to be perpetually immersed in somebody else's sexual/ relational lives. Most often the targets of their concern are family mem-bers~ and friends outside of the primary community or diocesan base group. Living vicariously through others will never substitute for living authentically through personal relationships, yet these people would prefer relationship-atka-distance to 15ersonal risk. They seem to be inter- Vocation Directors and Healthy Sexuality / 207 ested in relationship, yet they live divorced from relationship. Further-more, by attending to those outside of the base community or group, these women and men are avoiding their obligations of presence to and relationship within their primary commitment arena. Curiosity focused almost exclusively on others' sexual behaviors is a clear indication of unresolved personal sexual issues. Vocation directors must be especially vigilant in this by observing and monitoring the kinds of topics and questions that seem to demand their greatest energies. Does the conversation always seem to turn to sex? Are dates reviewed in minute detail? Are sexual histories more detailed than educational or family histories? Affirmative responses to any of these suggest that the vocation directors, more than the candidates, may have sexual problems. It is possible that directors are projecting their own needs and fantasies onto the candidates. A very obvious warning sign is a preoccupation with overtly sexual material. Increased viewing of x-rated films, compulsive reading and/or collecting of pornographic literature, and frequenting of strip bars may reveal unresolved sexual and relational tensions. Here, the problem is not so much one of the preoccupation itself as what it signifies. Marked changes in affectional displays, either noticeable reductions or increases, can be symptomatic of sexual disintegration. Normally affectionate people who become stand-offish, or normally distant people who suddenly need to touch whomever they are talking with,'are sending out pleas for help. In effect, they are demonstrating current discomfort with themselves and are revealing this through their behavior. .In all of these, people have failed to integrate or are struggling to rede-fine their sexual identities. As happens when individuals are agitated, they tend to look to others and the environment first as the possible source of or solution to their difficulties. Until the inner source or solution is dis-covered, these individuals are doomed to look for answers in all the wrong places, frus~trating themselves and others in the process. Healthy sexuality is a personal responsibility and privilege. Developing Healthy Sexuality The fii'st step toward h.ealthy sexual integration is education. People need to learn the basics of biology and human sexual response so they can make informed decisions about their personal sexuality. People in our society too often grew up in a culture where sexual myths outweighed facts, generating fear and inco .mplete information. Many women and men continue to function out of adolescent fears and fantasies developed when they learned half the sexual stor3) from friends who had, at best, about 201~ / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 one-tenth of the total plot. The sad tragedy is that many women and men religious do not know how to read their own body responses when in intense or angering or sexual situations. Simple, straightforward informa-tion is an available corrective. A sad reality is that men, more than women, are reluiztant to seek solid sexual education. Current research sug-gests that this is because men in our culture have been raised to believe that they must be sexually knowledgeable, and to seek information wo(ild be to violate their masculine image. Credible vocation directors, like all religious and priests, cannot afford to perpetuate that stereotype. Personal sexual evaluation is the next step toward healthy sexual integration. Armed with valid biological and sexual data, women and men must then assess their personal sexual identities. They must ask them-selves, "How comfortable am I with my own sexuality? What does it mean to be a woman? What does it mean to be a man? Do I know when I am sexually aroused, and what can I do about it within the bounds of my public celibate stance? What is my definition of relationship, and where does affection and/or sexual expression apply?" The answers to these and related questions must come from within. Opinions and text-books can guide reflection, but personal response is essential. Along with personal sexual evaluation is the challenge to develop s6me understanding of personal sexual orientations, whether they be ambisexual, homosexual/lesbian, or heterosexual. Since sexuality is con-stantly in process, so also will be individuals' assessment of their identities, but this does not preclude the need to think about and accept where they find themselves at this time in their process. Developing and evaluating personal philosophies of celibacy, sexuality, and intimacy are prerequisites to healthy sexual integration. People must hold themselves accountable to some code of sexual moral-ity. Too many people employ too much energy reacting to and refuting others' definitions of sexual

Issue 51.2 of the Review for Religious, March/April 1992. ; 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. 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 ~,¥ashington, D.C. 20017. I}OSTMASTER 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 $5.00 includes surface mailing costs. One-year subscription $15.00 plus mailing costs. Two-year subscription $28.00 plus mailing costs. See inside back cover for 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 David J. Hassel SJ Mary Margaret Johanning SSND Iris Ann Ledden SSND Se;in Sammon FMS Wendy Wright PhD Suzanne Zuercher OSB Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living MARCH / APRIL1992 ¯ VOLUMES1 ¯ NUMBER2 contents 166 182 191 2O6 217 229 236 ministry and ministries The Spiritual Exercises as a Foundation for Educational Ministry Walter J. Burghardt SJ reflects on the vision and values given to educational ministry when it is permeated by the spirituality of Ignatius Loyola's Spiritual Exercises. Going the Distance, Sustaining the Gift Melannie Svoboda SND suggests some concrete ways that people can joyfully exercise their ministry over the long haul. Newman's Living the Oratory Charism Halbert G. Weidner CO explains the Oratory foundation of Philip Neri in order to highlight values significant to John Henry Newman's life. theology and spirituality The Resurrection Kernel Dennis Billy CSSR outlines the basic principle of the doctrine of the resurrection in order to show its influence in our way of living. The Fragile Connection between Prayer and Suffering Matthias Neuman OSB speaks from his own experience of how human suffering affects our prayer. To Choose Jesus for My Heaven Donald Macdonald SMM finds Julian of Norwich's insights into the maternal love of Jesus expressed in the Blessed Sacrament. religious life and renewal Seeing in the Dark Janet Ruffing RSM finds light in John of the Cross's description of the Dark Night for understanding the current turmoil in reli-gious life. 162 Review for Religious 249 260 267 Memories of the Future Thomas McKenna CM shows how eschatology as a style of thinking provides understanding for the renewal efforts in reli-gious life. Integrating Postmodernity and Tradition Reid Perkins OP encourages the greater use of narratives in reli-gious life to connect us to the tradition and at the same time to help us overcome the obliviousness of postmodern life. Religious-Life Issues in a Time of Transition John A. Grindel CM and Sean Peters CSJ summarize the results of various studies of U.S. religious life funded by the Lilly Endowment and point to issues still to be dealt with. living religiously 276 Cultivating Uselessness Rose Hoover RC proposes that in the very experience of useless-ness and foolishness lies the gift of religious life to a pragmatic society. 282 Therapy for Religious: The Troublesome Triangle Joyce Harris OSC offers some suggestions for a collaborative rela-tionship among therapist, the individual religious, and the com-munity and its representative. 289 294 Prenovitiate: Theory and Practice Anthony Steel SSG believes a prenovitiate program can help meet the challenges of contemporary cultural attitudes toward religious life and outlines the plan for his community. report U.S. Hispanic Catholics: Trends and Works 1991 Kenneth Davis OFM Conv reviews the various events and writ-ings in the Catholic Hispanic experience. departments 164 Prisms 303 Canonical Counseh Hermits and Virgins 309 Book Reviews March-April 1992 163 prisms Teilhard de Chardin in The Divine Milieu observes that the larger half of our lives is made up of what happens to us. His observation comes home to us each year as we celebrate the great high holy days of Christianity-- Holy Thursday, Good Friday, Holy Saturday, and Easter Sunday. Paradoxically Jesus accomplishes the work of redemption, his life's purpose, in what happens to him in his suffering, death, and resurrection. We enter into this paradox by our celebration of these days. We cannot change history, we cannot undo what has happened. Our celebration allows us in our own time to enter into what happened to Jesus and to be with him, to stand alongside, to feel com-passion- as helplessly as we listen to someone tell of being tortured by a totalitarian regime or as we sit at the bedside of a dying loved one. No activity of ours changes the event; compassionate presence is the difficult but precious gift we can give. Of course it is also our privilege to share in some-one's joy and happiness, as we do when we celebrate the res-urrection victory of Jesus. Despite the fact that so many of us are spectator-sports people, whether in the stadium or in front of the TV set, we are not comfortable being spectators of an evil we can-not eliminate and sometimes even of a happiness which lit-tle touches our lives. We may find other people's parties empty of fun for ourselves, and we may dread visiting a neighbor in the hospital.We would rather not drive through derelict inner-city neighborhoods, we would brush past the homeless person sleeping over heating grates in our down-towns, or we would switch TV channels if the images of starving Sudanese children with distended stomachs are too graphic. The problems seem too large for our efforts to make a difference. Our activity and our emotions seem 164 Review for Religious frozen. Even though we are members of the Body of Christ, we often choose not to see and not to hear. When hostages return exuberantly to waiting families, when a comatose girl revives to the joy of her parents, when government agencies extend unemployment benefits for those hurting in a reces-sion economy, how often do we feel a thrill and utter a prayer of thanks to God? Too often we keep ourselves emotionally distant even from the joys of others around us, probably because they just "happen" and leave us personally unaffected. St. Paul could state, by analogy with our human bodies, that if one member suffers all the members suffer with it; if one member is honored, all the members share its joy. The Easter events challenge us always in what we do and in what happens to us. If God is truly the God of our life, then we find the opportunity of meeting God both in what we set out to do and in what happens to us. Jesus' crucifixion confronts the activist in each of us to question our judgment about our most valued "work." All of our dyings become not the entropy of exhaustive waste, but graced moments of freedom to embrace another givenness of life from our God of life. When St. Paul challenged death--"Where is your sting?"--he did not close his eyes to the evils and losses which all the forms of dying represent. He trumpeted the Easter message that the Christ-redemption event changes not only our attitude but also our ability to value the whole of our life--its successes and accomplishments, its apparent waste matter of sin and failure. As Gospel models, Mary Magdalene (who may have confused sex and love) and Peter (who has grabbed for success and lied for survival) are the first among the evangelizers of this new creation event. Pope John Paul's appeal for a new evangelization takes form in us by our renewed attempt to integrate the active and passive aspects of our daily life. By living faith-lives as "other Christs" we make a dif-ference in what we do and in what we suffer. The call to a new evan-gelization invites us to explore further the struggles of justice and poverty and human living both at our doorstep and in our larger world. Making a difference often seems like planting seeds and hav-ing to wait for things to happen. Easter faith stirs us up in hope, moves us out in action, and integrates us in a compassionate patience. This Easter may the risen Lord embrace us anew with the grace of his passion for life. David L. Fleming sJ March-April 1992 165 WALTER J. BURGHARDT The Spiritual Exercises as a Foundation for Educational Ministry ministry and ministries To speak of basing an educational ministry on the Spiritual Exercises is something of a paradox, an apparent contra-diction. Two things simply do not seem to fit. Are not the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius Loyola an experience of the spirit, a thirty-day or eight-day retreat centered on the movement of the Christian soul to heaven, conducted in solitude, far from hustle and bustle, and preferably in silence? And is not a university or college a citadel of the intellect, where the stress is on knowledge, on books, where minds meet in constant conflict, where ideas clash, where noise is in the air, where silence is reserved for a corner of the library? I am not saying that the Spiritual Exercises and the groves of academe are interchangeable terms, that a col-lege or university is a retreat experience, that the class-room is a chapel, that learning is worship. My thesis is that the Spiritual Exercises can be, indeed should be, an exciting foundation for education Jesuit-style. More specif-ically, I see the Spiritual Exercises as a process of conver-sion which in an educational institution aims at altering in students, faculty, and staff (1) their world of learning, the Walter J. Burghardt SJ is director of the Woodstock Theo-logical Center Project Preaching the ffust Word. This article retains the flavor of its original oral presentation made at Creighton University in Omaha, Nebraska, in April 1991. Father Burghardt's address is Manresa-on-Severn; P.O. Box 9; Annapolis, Maryland 21404. 166 Review for Religious life of the mind; (2) their world of loving, their human and reli-gious imagination and affection; (3) their world of living, the life of social realities. Let me explain what I mean in each of these three cases. First, the Spiritual Exercises should alter your world of learn-ing, that is, the life of your mind. You see, basic to the life of the mind, at the root of a university's existence, is a momentous mono-syllable: Why? Why study art and the arts, physical science or political science, law or business or medicine? Now Ignatius does not ask that question in those terms. But "spiritual exercises" he defines as "every way of preparing and disposing" ourselves to remove "all disordered attachments and, after their removal, of seeking and finding God's will in the way we direct our lives.''1 And there definitely are disordered approaches to the life of the mind, strange reasons why some go to college or university or professional school. I am not thinking of the more superficial reasons--college as a four-year Hammer dance2 interrupted by class. I am thinking of an approach to business education guided by a powerful principle: what makes the world go round is economics, and what makes the economy work is greed, the almighty dollar. I am thinking of gifted music and drama students whose aim is fame, the lust for applause, even the TV laugh machine. I am thinking of political-science students whose primary purpose is political power, the thrill in manipulating other men and women. A heart-rending example in this area is Lee Atwater, the manager of George Bush's 1988 presidential campaign who almost single-handedly turned the tide against Dukakis. Not long before his death at forty from a brain tumor on 29 March, this gifted man~ with an incredible instinct for the jugular made this poignant confession: The '80s were about acquiring--acquiring wealth, power, prestige. I know, I acquired more wealth, power and pres-tige than most. But you can acquire all you want and still feel empty. It took a deadly illness to put me eye to eye with that truth, but it is a truth that the country, caught up in its ruthless ambitions and moral decay, can learn on my dime.3 Not that money, fame, power are immoral in themselves; they are not. Without money a university would have little to offer to anyone. Fame makes it easier for the deprived to know you, to beg for the crumbs that fall from your table. Political power makes March-April 1992 167 Burghardt ¯ The Exercises for Educational Ministry possible not only a Persian Gulf war but legislated housing for the poor. Ignatius forces on the retreatant that insistent mono-syllable: Why? Even more radically, the Spiritual Exercises can keep you from segregating learning into a pigeonhole of its own, divorced from the thrust of the spirit towards God. I do not mean that all of learning becomes a religious enterprise. Vatican II made that quite clear. With Vatican I, it distinguished "'two orders of knowl-edge' which are distinct," declared that "the Church does not indeed forbid that 'when the human arts and sciences are practiced they use their own principles and their proper method, each in its own domain.'" In consequence, the council "affirms the legiti-mate autonomy of human culture and especially of the sciences.''4 My point is, the life of the mind is perilously impoverished if knowledge does not lead to wonder. Not sheer questioning: I wonder if Israel should continue populating the West Bank. In the grasp of wonder I marvel: I am surprised, amazed, delighted, enraptured. It is MaW pregnant by God's Spirit: "My spirit finds delight in God my Savior" (Lk 1:47). It is Magdalen about to touch her risen Jesus: "Master!" (Jn 20:16). It is doubting Thomas discovering his God in the wounds of Jesus. It is Michelangelo striking his sculptured Moses: "Speak!" It is Alexander Fleming fascinated by the very first antibiotic, America thrilling to the first footsteps on the moon. It is Mother Teresa cradling a naked retarded child in the rubble of West Beirut, a crippled old man in the excrement of Calcutta. It is the wonder of a first kiss. Such, sooner or later, should be your reaction to the life of learning, such the wonder that should permeate the life of your mind. Not a new methodology for biology or psychology; simply awe in the presence of a fascinating four-letter reality: life. The multifaceted, myriad miracle of life. Amazement at what breadths and depths there are to being alive--from the architectural artistry of the ant and the grace of a loping panther, through the blind-ing speed of a white marlin and the majestic flight of the bald eagle, to the beating heart of a unique fetus, the inspired imagery of Shakespeare, the fantastic forty-eight measures of Tchaikovsky's "Nutcracker," the transforming insight of Einstein. With such wonder you may hope to touch the pinnacle of knowledge. For, as philosopher Jacques Maritain discovered, the height of human knowing is not conceptual; it is experiential. Man or woman feels God. Yes, feels" God. 168 Review for Religious Am I ignoring Ignatius? Have I been distracted from his Spiritual Exercises? Quite the contrary. The Spiritual Exercises are an adventure in experience, in wonder. With all the power of your mental faculties, you enter the kingdom of contemplation--what contemplative William McNamara called % long loving look at the real." The real: all there is--the things of God, the people of God, God's very self. And the high purpose of all this? To be struck, surprised, stunned by the wonder of it all--from the ecstasy of Eden unspoiled, through sin's rape of the earth and earth's dwellers, to the unique love of God-in-our-flesh pinned to a cross, and our rebirth in his rising from the rock. The net effect? Ignatius's final contemplation, the acme of the Exercises: Learning to Love Like God. Here you touch the heart of Ignatius, his awareness of the ceaseless presence of Christ to our earth--now. "Consider," he counsels, "how [Christ] labors for me in all creatures.''s Not a vague, ultrapious generality. Christ behaves like a worker, a laborer, in each and every creature of his creation. How is it that the Rockies still rise in breathtaking splendor, Venus shines brighter than any star, and oil gushes from the fields of Nebraska? Because a risen Christ gives them being. Not once for all; continuously, day after day. How is it that forsythia can herald the approach of spring, corn turn into hot buttered popcorn for your theater, giant red-woods stalk the California sky? Because an imaginative Christ gives them life. How is it that your Irish setter can smell the game beyond your ken, gulls scavenge your ocean, the shad ascend the waters? Because a sensitive Christ gives them senses. How is it that you, this wondrous wedding of molecules and spirit, can shape an idea or send a skyscraper soaring, unveil mystery in a microscope or telescope, join with another--man or woman or God--in deathless oneness? Because Christ labors in you to give you intelligence and love--intelligence that mimics the mind of God, love that stems from a cross on the outskirts of Jerusalem. A thing of beauty and a joy for ever, this life of the mind. But only if the arts and sciences, if professions like law and medicine and business, that legitimately engross you open you to the still richer reality that surrounds you, invades you, transcends you, gives fresh life to the mind you treasure so rightly, the mind you The life of the mind is perilously impoverished if knowledge does not lead to wonder. March-April 1992 169 Burghardt ¯ The Exercises for Educational Ministry accept so lightly. Ignatius's Spiritual Exercises are not the only "way to go." But for openers in two senses--a beginning and an opening--as a basis, a foundation, for the life of the mind, the Spiritual Exercises are an experience difficult to exceed. Second, the Spiritual Exercises should alter your world of loving, that is, your human and religious imagination and affec-tion. Basic to this affirmation is a realization: The life of the human spirit is not circumscribed by reason, by your ability to grasp ideas, to draw conclusions from facts and premises. If your intellectual existence is simply a model of Cartesian clarity, you are limping along on one leg. What is the lamentable lacuna? Imagination. What is this strange creature we call imagination?6 To begin with, what is imagination not? It is not the same thing as fantasy. Fantasy has come to mean the grotesque, the bizarre. That is fan-tastic which is unreal, irrational, wild, unrestrained. We speak of "pure fantasy": It has no connection with reality. It is imagination run wild, on the loose, unbridled, uncontained.7 What is it, then? Imagination is the capacity we have "to make the material an image of the immaterial or spiritual.''8 It is a cre-ative power. You find it in Rembrandt's self-portraits, in Beethoven's Fifth Symphony, in the odor of a new rose or the flavor of an old wine. You find it in dramatists like Aeschylus and Shakespeare, in poets from Sappho to Gerard Manley Hopkins, in storytellers like C.S. Lewis and Stephen King. Now, when I say "capacity," I do not mean a "faculty" like intellect or will. I mean rather a posture of my whole person towards my experience.9 It is a way of seeing. It is, as with Castaneda, looking for the holes in the world or listening to the space between sounds. It is a breaking through the obvious, the surface, the superficial, to the reality beneath and beyond. It is the world of wonder and intuition, of amazement and delight, of fes-tivity and play. How does imagination come to expression? Let me focus on specifically religious imagination. I sketch five ways. 1. A vision. I mean "the emergence either in dreams, trance, or ecstasy, of a pattern of images, words, or dreamlike dramas which are experienced then, and upon later reflection, as having revelatory significance." 10 Examples? Isaiah's vision of the Lord in the temple (Is 6); Moses and Elijah appearing to Jesus and the disciples on the Mount of Transfiguration (Mt 17:1-9); Joan of Arc's "voices"; St. Margaret Mary's vision of the Sacred Heart. 170 Review for Religious 2. Ritual. The form of ritual is action--public, dramatic, pat-terned. A group enacts the presence of the sacred and partici-pates in that presence, usually through some combination of dance, chant, sacrifice, or sacrament.11 3. Story. I mean a narrative, a constellation of images, that recounts incidents or events. As Sallie TeSelle put it, "We all love a good story because of the basic nar-rative quality of human experience: in a sense any story is about ourselves, and a good story is good precisely because somehow it rings true to human life . We recognize our pilgrimage from here to there in a good story.''12 For the religious imagina-tion, three types of stories are particularly impor-tant: parable, allegory, and myth; the parables of Jesus, Lewis's "Chronicles of Narnia," and the Creation myth.13 4. The fine arts. I mean painting and poetry, sculpture and architecture, music, dancing, and dra-matic art. I mean da Vinci and John Donne, the "PietY" and Chartres, Beethoven's "Missa Solemnis," David whirling and skipping before the Ark of the Covenant, the mystery dramas of the Middle Ages. I mean films. 5. Symbol. What symbol means is not easy to say, for even within theology it does not have a univocal sense. Let me define it, with Avery Dulles, as "an externally perceived sign that works mysteriously on the human consciousness so as to suggest more than it can clearly describe or define." 14 Not every sign is a sym-bol. A mere indicator ("This way to the art museum") is not a symbol. "The symbol is a sign pregnant with a depth of meaning which is evoked rather than explicitly stated.''is It might be an artifact, a person, an event, words, a story--parable, allegory, myth. The importance of symbols, of imagination, in a university? I make three points. First, imagination is not at odds with knowl-edge; imagination is a form of cognition. In Whitehead's words, "Imagination is not to be divorced from the facts; it is a way of illuminating the facts.''16 True, it is not a process of reasoning; it is not abstract thought, conceptual analysis, rational demonstra-tion, syllogistic proof. Notre Dame of Paris is not a thesis in the-ology; Lewis's famous trilogy does not demonstrate the origin of evil; Hopkins is not analyzing God's image in us when he sings Imagination is not at odds with knowledge; imagination is a form of cognition. Marcb-April 1992 171 Burghardt ¯ The Exercises for Educational Ministry that "Christ plays in ten thousand places, / Lovely in limbs, and lovely in eyes not his / To the Father through the features of men's faces.''17 And still, imaging and imagining is a work of our intellectual nature; through it our spirit reaches the true, the beautiful, and the good. Second, imagination does not so much teach as evoke; it calls something forth from you. And so it is often ambiguous; the image can be understood in different ways. Do you remember the reporters who asked Martha Graham, "Miss Graham, what does your dance mean?" She replied: "Darlings, if I could tell you, I would not have danced it!" Something is lost when we move from imagining to thinking, from art to conceptual clarity. Not that imagination is arbitrary, that "Swan Lake" or the Infancy Narrative or "Hamlet" or the Transfiguration is whatever anyone wants to make of it, my gut feeling. Hostile to a valid imagina-tion is "the cult of imagination for itself alone; vision, phantasy, ecstasy for their own sakes; creativity, spontaneity on their own, without roots, without tradition, without discipline.''1~ Amos Wilder was right: "Inebriation is no substitute for paideia.''19 And still it is true, the image is more open-ended than the con-cept, less confining, less imprisoning. The image evokes our own imagining. Third, religion itself is a system of symbols. As sociologist Andrew Greeley saw, "religion was symbol and story long before it became theology and philosophy and., the poetry of religion was not inferior to its prose but rather anterior to it and, in terms of the whole human person, in some ways superior to it.''2° Biblical revelation is highly symbolic. Skim the Hebrew Scriptures: a burning bush, the miracles of the Exodus, the theo-phanies of Sinai, the "still small voice" heard by Elijah, the visions of the prophets and seers. Scan the New Testament: the circum-stances surrounding Jesus' conception and birth, the descent of the Spirit in the form of a dove, the transfiguration, Calvary, the res-urrection. Take key themes like the kingdom of God, its expres-sion in Jesus' proverbial sayings, in the Lord's Prayer, in the Gospel parables. The kingdom is not a clear concept with a uni-vocal significance. It is a symbol that "can represent or evoke a whole range or series of conceptions or ideas.''21 Turn from Scripture to the Catholic-Protestant problematic. Greeley's research persuades him that "the fundamental differ-ences between Catholicism and Protestantism are not doctrinal or 172 Review for Religious ethical" but "differing sets of symbols.''22 Take the central symbol: God.23 The classical literature of the Catholic tradition assumes a God who is present in the world, disclosing Himself in and through creation. The world and all its events, objects, and people tend to be somewhat like God. The Protestant classics, on the other hand, assume a God who is radically absent from the world and who discloses Herself only on rare occasions (especially in Jesus Christ and Him cruci-fied). The world and all its events, objects, and people tend to be radically different from God.24 Even more concretely, Greeley insists, their different images of God account for different religious behavior between Catholics and Protestants. In the Protestant imagination God is perceived as distant (father, judge, king, master); in the Catholic imagination God is perceived as present (mother, lover, friend, spouse).2s Another crucial example: two approaches to human society shaped by different imaginative pictures. The Catholic tends to see society as a "sacrament" of God, a set of ordered relationships, governed by both justice and love, that reveal, however imperfectly, the presence of God. Society is "natural" and "good," therefore, for humans and their natural response to God is social. The Protestant, on the other hand, tends to see human society as "God-for-saken" and therefore unnatural and oppressive. The indi-vidual stands over against society and not integrated into it. The human becomes fully human only when he is able to break away from social oppression and relate to the absent God as a completely free individual.26 A final example from Greeley's sociological research: The image that most sharply distinguishes the Catholic tradition from other Christian traditions is Mary the mother of Jesus. No one else has Madonna statues in church. MaW is essen-tial to Catholicism, not perhaps on the level of doctrine but surely on the level of imagination, because she more than any other image blatantly confirms the sacramental instinct: the whole of creation and all its processes, especially its lifegiving and life-nurturing processes, reveal the lurking and passionate love of God.27 Once again, have I been distracted from Ignatius and his Spiritual Exercises? Not really. The Exercises, for all their appeal to the Christian intelligence, are not a head trip. They are first and foremost an experience. An experience of Catholic symbols: Adam and Eve and Eden, angels and Satan, hellfire, a virgin and a crib, March-April 1992 173 Burghardt ¯ The Exercises for Educational Ministry The events of Jesus" earthly existence must be seen as a 'today." Egypt and Jerusalem, the transfiguration, bread and wine, blood and water from the side of Christ, nail marks in risen hands, an ascension into heaven. But the experience is not cold reason. Take the experience of sin's devastating impact on angels and humans, sin's ravishing of God's good earth. When you go through the Spiritual Exercises, you do not simply define sin, recall a traditional definition: any thought, word, or action against God's law. Your senses get into the act: you smell sin's stench. Even more importantly, you see sin's cost, image it, weep over it; for sin's cost is a cross, the pierced hands of a God-man. The God-man. The Exercises are a constant contemplation--contemplation of Christ. Never abstract theology, though theology informs it all. In Bethlehem's cave you are a servant; you not only listen to Mary and Joseph, you "smell the infinite flagrance and taste the infinite sweetness of the divinity.''28 You flee with that unique family into Egypt, feel what it means to be a refugee in the Middle East. In a decisive meditation you not only contrast "two standards," two scenarios for orienting your life. The standards take flesh in two persons: in a Satan who inspires "horror and terror," who makes you lust for riches, for honor, for pride; and in a living Christ who attracts you to poverty, insults, and humil-ity.: 9 It is not only Jesus who is tempted in the wilderness; you wrestle with your personal devils, sweat through the temptations that jolted Jesus: Use your powers, your gifts, your possessions just for your own fantastic self, for the sweet smell of success. Like the sinful woman, you wash our Lord's feet with your tears, feel your sins forgiven because you too have "loved much" (Lk 7:47). And so into Christ's passion, which you no longer study with scholarly detachment, comparing different traditions, reconcil-ing inconsistencies. Ignatius wants you to feel: grief and shame indeed, "because the Lord is going to his suffering for [your] sins,''3° but even, if possible, the kiss that betrayed him, the nails that held him fast. And finally, joy in the risen Christ. Not sim-ply a sense of relief; rather your whole being bursting with new life, his life, as you share his rising with his Mother, try to touch him with Magdalen, munch seafood with him and the Eleven. This is not simply your own picture show, on a level with 174 Review for Religious Kevin Costner "Dancing with !/Volves.''31 Ignatius playing with your capacity to imagine is attempting something terribly signif-icant psychologically and spiritually. This "application of the senses" goes back to a medieval tradition that reached Ignatius through a book he read while convalescing from cannon wounds back at Loyola.32 The unknown Franciscan author had written: If you wish to draw profit from these meditations., make everything that the Lord Jesus said and did present to your-self, just as though you were hearing it with your ears and seeing it with your eyes . And even when it is related in the past tense you should contemplate it all as though pres-ent today. VChy is this highly significant for an intelligent spirituality? Because you are no longer looking at the life of Christ sheerly as history, something that took place in the past. The events of Jesus' earthly existence must be seen as a "today," the historical hap-penings drawn into your own world here and now. That is how you achieve not abstract knowledge but what the medievals called "familiarity with Christ," an understanding that takes hold not only of discursive reasoning but of the whole person. Imagination leads to love--a direct experience of love. Ignatius films in living color what Aquinas phrased in attractive abstraction: There are two ways of desiring knowledge. One way is to desire it as a perfection of one's self; and that is the way philosophers desire it. The other way is to desire it not [merely] as a perfection of one's self but because through this knowledge the one we love becomes present to us; and that is the way saints desire it.34 Third, the Spiritual Exercises should alter your world of liv-ing, that is, the life of social realities. Here three facets call for clarification: social realities, the Exercises, and you. What do I mean by social realities? I mean the life of a soci-ety, the life that moves beyond the individual in isolation to com-munity, people interacting, impacting one on another, human persons depending on one another. How do the Spiritual Exercises touch social realities? After all, did not Ignatius himself describe the Exercises as "every way of preparing and disposing" ourselves to remove "all disordered attachments and, after their removal, of seeking and finding God's will in the way we direct our lives"?3s This sounds rather indi-vidualistic, does it not? Or, at best, quite vague. March-April 1992 175 Burghardt ¯ The Exercises for Educational Ministry I am aware that in 1975 the 32nd General Congregation of Jesuits declared, "The mission of the Society of Jesus today is the service of faith, of which the promotion of justice is an absolute requirement.''36 And it went on to assert a bit later: Every sector of our educational works should be subjected to constant review, so that they will not only continue to form young people and adults able and willing to build a more just social order, but do so ever more effectively. Especially should we help form our Christian students as "men [and women]-for-others" in a mature faith and in per-sonal attachment to Jesus Christ, persons whose lively faith impels them to seek and find Christ in the service of their fellow men [and women]. Thus we shall contribute to form-ing persons who will themselves multiply the work of world-wide education.-~7 But our specific question remains: Granted that our colleges should prepare women and men to construct a more just social order, how do the Spiritual Exercises lay a foundation for the social-justice component of Jesuit education? Almost a half century ago, a young Jesuit who had not yet taken his final vows in the Society was asked by his provincial to direct the annual eight-day retreat for the Jesuit theology stu-dents at Alma in California. In the course of the retreat, director Father George H. Dunne reflected on a number of social issues. Dealing with the Sermon on the Mount, for example, and the two great commandments, he "talked about poverty, peace, war, not in the abstract but in the concrete." He "talked about anti- Semitism, Hitler's holocaust, racial segregation, the rat-infested tenements in New York, the exploitation of migrant farm work-ers, the Spanish Civil War, the anguish of the world's poor . -38 Not long after, he received a letter from the representative of the Jesuit superior general for the American provinces during World War II. Father Zacheus J. Maher charged Father Dunne with substituting for the Spiritual Exercises a series of "brilliant talks on social subjects." "Such subjects," he declared, "have no place in the Spiritual Exercises.''> Let us make an admission: Our neighbor, the wider society, is not explicit in the text of the Exercises.4° Not surprising; for the Exercises "are addressed to individuals, and they seek to enable a person to have the interior freedom to serve God . -41 But if you delve more deeply, you discover how profoundly social, societal, the Exercises are. 176 Review for Religious You see, the Ignatian meditations point you ceaselessly to Christ, to the Christ of the Gospels, in that way to absorb the mind of Christ. And so you focus on the programmatic scene in Nazareth's synagogue, where Jesus makes his own the announce-ment in Isaiah: "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, for he has anointed me. He has sent me to preach good news to the poor, to proclaim release for pris-oners and sight for the blind, to set at liberty those who are oppressed, and to proclaim the Lord's year of favor" (Lk 4:1 8-1 9).42 Through the Exercises that program ceases to be pecu-liarly Jesus'; it becomes your own. What Second Isaiah announced to the people of his day Jesus announces to the poor and impris-oned, the blind and deprived of his day. And this is what Christians in the mold of Ignatius announce to the downtrodden of their day. With Ignatius in the final Contemplation for Learning to Love Like God, you ponder profoundly how Christ "labors for [you] in all creatures on the face of the earth, that is, he behaves like one who labors. In the heav-ens, the elements, the plants, the fruits, the cattle, [man and woman], he gives being, conserves them in existence, confers life and sensation, and so on.''43 And you ask to labor with Christ as he ceaselessly creates, recreates, redeems a fallen world. Last Easter a Catholic professor of history ended his regular column in a diocesan newspaper with two puzzling sentences: "When Jesus rose from the dead, he did not go about lecturing on the social problems of his day. Instead he manifested himself in glory to his disciples in a manner that empowered them to go forth as his courageous emissaries.''44 But neither did the risen Jesus go about celebrating the Eucharist and fingering his rosary. And what did he empower them to go forth to do? To baptize indeed; to preach what he preached. But did he not preach loving your sisters and brothers as Jesus loved you? Does such loving have nothing to do with war on the womb or war in the Middle East? Nothing to do with inhuman poverty or child abuse? Nothing to do with racism or the rape of the earth? What you should experience through the Exercises is that by God's design and initiative human existence is fundamentally social, societal:4s we are "we" before we are "I" and "thou." This By God's design and initiative human existence is fundamentally social, societal. March-April 1992 177 Burghardt ¯ The Exercises for Educational Ministry is central in Christian revelation and of primary importance for our contemporary culture of individualism, where we think first of self and then how we can join with others in community--as though community did not precede the individual genetically, psychically, socially, and spiritually.46 Even Catholic social teach-ing frequently fails to position this fact front and center, because it lays down as primary in its social ethics the "dignity of the human person, who is made to the image of God." From there the teaching argues to the God-invested rights of the individual which other individuals and institutions must respect. This misses the point of the Genesis story (on which it is often based) that the "Adam" who is given such dignity is not an individual but "the hmnan," our whole race in personification.47 How does all this touch us? Very simply, a university or col-lege ought to be not only the seedbed of learning and imagination; it should be the boot camp of our societal existence. The Jesuit educational ideal is not the intellectual mole who lives almost entirely underground, surfaces occasionally for fresh air and a Big Mac, burrows back down to the earthworms before people can distract him. No. A college is where young men and women who may one day profoundly influence America's way of life touch, some for the first time, the ruptures that sever us from our earth, from our sisters and brothers, from our very selves. Not simply in an antiseptic classroom, for all its high importance for under-standing. Even more importantly, experience of rupture: experi-ence not only of ecology but of an earth irreparably ravaged, not only abstract poverty but the stomach-bloated poor, not only the words "child abuse" but the vacant stare of the child abused, not only a book on racism but the hopelessness or hatred in human hearts. To yearn for such experience, I know no better introduc-tion than experiencing the Christ of the Spiritual Exercises, the conversion consequent on seeing Christ more clearly, loving him more dearly. Can you get a 4.0, be learned, a scholar, without such a con-version? Undoubtedly. Can you make megabucks in business or law, in medicine or government without such a conversion? Undoubtedly. Can you marry well, raise two and a half children, treat them to an Ivy school education without such a conversion? Undoubtedly. Can you be deliriously happy without such a con-version? Undoubtedly. Can you live an integrated human and Christian existence without such a conversion? I doubt it. 178 Review for Religious Notes i Spiritual Exercises 1; translation partially mine. 2 Reference to a type of dancing currently in high favor with the young and involving amazing hyperactivity. 3 Thomas B. Edsall, "GOP Battler Lee Atwater Dies at 40," Washington Post, 30 March 1991, 1 and 7. 4 Second Vatican Council, Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World, no. 59. s Spiritual Exercises 236. For Christ as the "creator and Lord" of this contemplation, see Hugo Rahner SJ, Ignatius the Theologian (New York: Herder and Herder, 1968 / San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 1991), p. 134. 6 Here I am drawing largely, but not entirely, on material in nay book Preaching: The Art and the Craft (New York/Mahwah: Paulist, 1987), pp. 19-25. 7 I am aware that fantasy does not have to mean the bizarre; I am speaking of a com~non current usage. The development was concisely expressed in l/Vebster's New International Dictionary of the English Language (2nd ed. unabridged; Springfield, Mass.: Merriam, 1958), p. 918: "From the conception of fantasy as the faculty of mentally reproducing sensible objects, the meaning appears to have developed into: first, false or delu-sive mental creation; and second, any senselike representation in the mind, equivalent to the less strict use of imagination and fancy. Later fan-tasy acquired, also, a somewhat distinctive usage, taking over the sense of whimsical, grotesque, or bizarre image making. This latter sense, however, did not attach itself to the variant phantasy, which is used for visionary or phantasmic imagination." See also Urban T. Hohnes III, Ministry and Imagination (New York: Seabury, 1976), pp. 100-103. ~ Holmes, ibid, pp. 97-98. Here Holmes is a&nittedly borrowing from Owen Barfield, Saving the Appearances: A Study in Idolatry (New York: Harcourt, Brace & World, n.d.). 9 See Holmes, ibid, p. 88. 10 Theodore W. Jennings Jr., Introduction to Theology: An Invitation to Reflection upon the Christian Mythos (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1976), p. 49. 1~ See ibid, p. 52. 12 Sallie M. TeSelle, cited by Holmes, Ministry and Imagination, p. 166, from the Journal of the American Academy of Religion 42 (1974): 635. ~3 Lest the reader be unduly disturbed, myth is not opposed to fact or to fancy. Its raw material tnay he fact or it may be fancy; in either case it intends "to narrate the fundamental structure of human being in the world. By the concreteness of its imagery, the universality of its intention, its narrative or stoW form, the myth evokes the identification and par-ticipation of those for whom it functions as revelatory" (Jennings, Introduction to Theology, pp. 51-52). ~4 Avery Dulles SJ, "The Symbolic Structure of Revelation," March-April 1992 179 Burghardt ¯ The Exercises for Educational Ministry Theological Studies 41 (1980): 55-56. Dulles studies the five dominant approaches to revelation: the propositional, historical, mystical, dialecti-cal, and symbolic--with greatest stress on the symbolic. He asks how in each theory revelation is mediated and what kind of truth it has. He con-cludes that in Christ the five aspects coalesce in a kind of unity, but insists that the first four are reconciled and held in unity through the symbolic facet. ~s Ibid, p. 56. 16 A. N. Whitehead, The Aims of Education and Other Essays (New York: Macmillan, 1929), p. 139. 17 Gerard Manley Hopkins, "As kingfishers catch fire. ," Poem 57 in W. H. Gardner and N.H. Mackenzie, eds., The Poems of Gerard Manley Hopkins (London: Oxford University, 1970), p. 90. ~ Amos Niven Wilder, Theopoetic: Theology and the Religious Imagination (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1976), p. 57. ~') Ibid, p. 67. ~,0 Andrew M. Greeley, The Catholic Myth: The Behavior and Beliefs of American Catholics (New York: Scribner's, 1990), p. 37. 21 Norman Perrin, Jesus and the Language of the Kingdom (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1976), p. 33. ~2 Greeley, The Catholic ~Vlyth, p. 44. 23 Here Greeley (p. 45) admits his dependence on David Tracy's The Analogical Imagination (New York: Crossroad, 1981). 24 Greeley, The C)ttholic Myth, p. 45. ~5 See ibid, p. 55. 26 Ibid, p. 45. Hcre, too, Greeley is indebted to David Tracy. Note Greeley's warning to his readers that the word "tend" is "used advisedly. Zero-sum relationships do not exist in the world of the preconscious" (ibid). -,7 Ibid, p. 253. See p. 254: "I argue., that the obvious functional role of Mary the mother of Jesus in the Catholic tradition is to reflect the mother love of God." For detailed presentation of the origins and func-tion of the Mary symbol, see Greeley's The Mary Myth (New York: Seabury, 1977). 2~ Spiritual Exercises 124; text from Louis J. Puhl sJ, The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius (Chicago: Loyola University, 195 I), p. 55. 29 Spiritual Exercises 140, 146 (Puhl, pp. 60, 62). 30 Spiritual Exercises 193 (Puhl, p. 81). 31 A current fihn that made off with a number of Academy awards. 3~ The book was Meditationes vitae Christi, long attributed to St. Bonaventure but actually composed by an unknown Franciscan of the fourteenth century; see Rahner, Ignatius the Theologian (n. 5 above), pp. 192-193. Quoted from Rahner, ibid, p. 193. 180 Review for Religious 34 1 have not been able as yet to document this text. 3s Spiritual Exercises 1 ; translation partially mine. 36 Documents of the Thirty-second General Congregatio,z of the Society of Jesus, 2 December 1974--7 March 1975 I, 4 (Washington, D.C.: Jesuit Conference, [1975]), p. 17. 37 Ibid, I, 4, pp. 35-36. 38 King's Pawn: The Memoirs of George H. Dunue, s.J. (Chicago: Loyola University, 1990), p. 70. 39 Ibid, pp. 69, 70. q0 See useful material in Dean Brackley SJ, "Downward Mobility: Social Implications of St. Ignatius's Two Standards," Studies in the Spirituality of Jesuits 20, no. 4 (January 1988): 53; also in Thomas E. Clark SJ, "Ignatian Spirituality and Societal Consciousness," ibid, 7, no. 4 (September 1975): 127-150. 4~ Brackley, "Downward Mobility," p. 12. 42 On this episode see Joseph A. Fitzmyer SJ, The Gospel according to Luke (I-IX) (Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1981), p. 529: "Luke had deliberately put this story [4:16-30] at the beginning of the public min-istry to encapsulate the entire ministry of Jesus and the reaction to it." 43 Spiritual Exercises 236; translation partially mine. 44james Hitchcock in St. Louis Review, 29 March 1991, p. 11. 4s See Clarke (n. 40 above), pp. 128-129, for the advantages of the adjective "societal" over "social" in reference to apostolate and ministry. "Social" efforts "seek immediately and personally to alleviate the misery of those individuals who are deprived." "Societal" activity "concerns itself immediately with the healing and transformation of those human struc-tures, institutions, processes, and environments which draw persons into misery or make it difficult for them to emerge from it." 46 See Matthew Lamb, "The Social and Political Dimensions of Lonergan's Theology," in Vernon Gregson, ed., The Desires of the Human Heart (New York/Mahwah: Paulist, 1988), p. 270. 471 owe this paragraph to notes of James L. Connor sJ, director of the Woodstock Theological Center, Washington, D.C., prepared for the inau-gural retreat of my project Preaching the Just Word, an effort to move the preaching of social-justice issues more effectively into the Catholic pul-pits of the United States. March-April 1992 181 MELANNIE SVOBODA Going the Distance, Sustaining the Gift an one of her newspaper columns, Ellen Goodman describes pheno~nenon called "compassion fatigue." This occurs when people who are normally sensitive and generous get "tired of caring." Most Americans, Goodman maintains, are very caring in emergencies. She writes: "We are great at performing the one-night stands for causes. Christmas dinner for the poor, collec-tions for victims of fire or flood or famine." But if the emergency situation becomes chronic, many of us find it difficult to sustain our initial level of concern. When compassion fatigue sets in, says Goodman, "A gift can begin to feel like an obligation, generosity can turn into resentment, and sympathy can turn hard." I think Goodman's article has definite implications for those of us involved in ministry in the church. Let us face it: most of us are in ministry not for a one-night stand. We are in it for years, maybe even for life. The problems we deal with every day--igno-rance, poverty, injustice, sickness, violence--will not go away overnight--or even in a matter of a few years. So the question we have to ask ourselves is: How do we keep our compassion alive over the long haul? How do we fan the flame of enthusiasm for a lifetime of service in the church? Before I suggest some ways of doing this, I would like to say a few words about why. For everything I say is based on the premise Melannie Svoboda SND, with whom our readers are well acquainted, resides at Notre Dame Academy; Route One, Box 197; Middleburg, Virginia 22117. 182 Review for Religious that coinpassion and enthusiasm are essential for ministry in the church. Without them, ministry is at best a mere show and at worst a perversion of the very Gospel we claim to proclaim. To illustrate this fact, I tried to come up with an image of ministry as compassionate, generous, and enthusiastic--and not something performed out of a sense of obligation and even with resentment. The image I came up with may appear an unlikely one: feeding chickens! But let me explain. Feeding Chickens I was born and raised on a small goose farm in Willoughby Hills, Ohio. That rural "initial formation" continues to influence my outlook on life. On our farm we had hundreds of white Emden geese. It was my father and brothers who had the job of feeding them. But we also had a couple dozen chickens, and the task of feeding them usually fell to my mother, my sister, or me. Now what is the connection between feeding chickens and ministering in today's church? Simple. The way I see it, there are three essential elements to proper chicken feeding (and, I might add, to proper church ministry). First, there is the feed itself--the corn, the mash, whatever. The feed is the gift we bring to the chickens. More than that, it is their source of nourishment, of life itself. Without too much of a stretch of the imagination, we can say that the chicken feed is the "good news" we bring each day to our chickens. The second element of chicken feeding involves calling the chickens. We have to get their attention, alert them to the feed we have for them. But a good chicken feeder goes beyond merely calling the chickens. He or she establishes a relationship with them. The feeder talks to the chickens, even thanking them for the fine eggs they have been laying. For a good chicken feeder (like a good church minister) is always aware of being a receiver as well as a giver. The third element of chicken feeding (and of ministry) is the actual broadcasting of the feed. How does an experienced chicken feeder broadcast the feed? Eagerly, generously, unsparingly. Now that is an image of ministry at its best, ministry with compassion and enthusiasm. Ministry at its worst would be the person who sets out to feed the chickens grumbling and mum-bling the whole way to the chicken coop. "I have got to feed those March-April 1992 183 Svoboda ¯ Going the Distance stupid chickens--again. I just fed them yesterday. They're never satisfied. All they do is eat, eat, eat. What good are they, any-way?" Such a feeder might not even call the chickens, thinking: "If I don't call them, maybe they won't come, and then I won't have to feed them." But, of course, the chickens do come, called or uncalled. And how does this kind of feeder broadcast the feed? Perhaps sparingly: "A kernel for you, a kernel for you . " Or angrily, throwing handfuls of feed down on the ground in dis-gust. Or hastily, dumping the whole pail of feed in one spot, just to get the job over with. That is an image of ministry when compassion fatigue has set in. I maintain that ministering in such a way is a contradiction of the Gospel. For we are called to proclaim the good news, not the "ho-hum" news, not the "halfway decent" news. We are called to love the people to whom we minister, not "put up with" them or view them as a nuisance. If we can no longer minister with gen-uine compassion or with vibrant enthusiasm, then maybe we should not be ministering. Years ago I had a Scripture teacher who made this point very clear. He said that on a given day we might wake up crabby, dis-couraged, depressed, mad at the whole world and every human being in it. On such a morning, maybe we should call the office, the school, or the parish and say in all honesty and humility, "I won't be in. I cannot in conscience represent the Gospel today." The suggestion, though perhaps a little extreme, does make a salient point: an anti-sign to the Gospel is probably worse than no sign at all. In other words, if our words, attitude, and whole bear-ing contradict the Good News we represent, then maybe we should not be representing it. Compassion and enthusiasm are requisites for effective min-istry. What, then, are some ways we can "go the distance" and "sustain our gift" of ministering? There are, no doubt, many ways. Here, I suggest four. Retaining the Big Picture The first way is to retain the big picture. Sometimes we lose enthusiasm for our ministry because our perspective becomes too narrow, our vision myopic. We lose sight of the big picture and get enmeshed in the near at hand, the petty, the nitty-gritty. In his book The Art of Choosing, Carlos ~Galles SJ reminds us how impor- 184 Review for Reli~4ous rant it is in life to have a sense of direction. He describes "a lovely little habit" that Ignatius had of stopping himself physically in the middle of a hall and asking himself, "Where am I going? And what for?" That habit was one way Ignatius had of connecting a seemingly insignificant action--going to the dining room to eat, heading for chapel to pray, or walking down the hall to a meet-ing-- with the bigger picture of ministering to God's people. The practice is a good one: regularly and consciously to make ourselves see our daily small actions as part of a greater whole. Recently I watched an artist painting a large mural of a sunrise. I noticed how frequently she stepped back from her work to gain a broader perspective. Then she would step forward, add a few more strokes with the paint roller, and step back again for another look. We must do the same thing in our ministry. Sometimes God seems to provide us with opportunities to do this: after a suc-cessful activity, after an apparent failure, at the time of a transfer or change in ministry, or during a serious illness. But we can also do this more regularly: during an annual retreat or a monthly day of recollection, in the morning before we begin our day, or in the evening before we crawl (or fall) into bed. The habit of ask-ing "Where am I going (or where have I been today) and what for?" will put us in touch with the real zvhat and v:hatfor of our ministry, thus enabling us to catch at least a glimpse of how our "daily chores" fit into the big picture of God's grand design. Seeing Babies A second way of retaining our compassion and enthusiasm I call: seeing babies and not diapers. A priest told me once that a young mother came to him very discouraged and worn out. "I'm sick and tired of changing diapers," she cried. The priest thought for a moment and then gently suggested, "Next time don't change the diaper. Change the baby." He was not being "celibately sar-castic." He was pointing out to her a lesson in perspective. We have to see the tasks we do in relation to the individual human beings for whom we do them. During a retreat another priest told this true stoW. A teenage boy was seriously injured in a car accident. When the parish priest was notified, he immediately went to the hospital to see the boy. When the priest walked in, the boy said, "Father, if you've come here for God's sake, then for God's sake, get out! But if you have March-April 1992 185 Svoboda ¯ Going the Distance come here because you think I am worth it, then please stay." The priest stayed. Maybe for too long we overemphasized "All for the greater honor and glory of God." That phrase certainly encapsulates a marvelous truth, but, like most truths, even that one needs another truth to balance it. In our ministry we do not bypass the human beings we serve. We do not overlook them. We do not use them to win God's favor. We must remember, we minister not to parishes, schools, hospitals, or dioceses. We minister to individ-ual human beings--to Vera, Frank, Carlos, Heather--and each of them is worth it. Getting Support A third way we sustain our gift of ministry is: We get sup-port. The venerable tradition of rugged individualism that helped found this great nation will not "cut it" in ministry. The truth is, we cannot "go it alone." Fortunately, our contemporary times, with its emphasis on support groups, reminds us of this truth. I came to appreciate the importance of support groups when I became a flee-lance writer. Before that I had been a full-time high school teacher for many years. As a teacher I had a built-in support group: the other teachers on the faculty. But when I seri-ously began to write as part of my ministry, I suddenly felt terri-bly isolated and alone. It became difficult for me to sit in front of my typewriter (and later tny computer) for two or three hours a day and write, for I would recall working for hours on a piece only to have it fizzle into nothingness. Or I would send out arti-cles and stories enthusiastically only to have them lost, mutilated, or rejected. Finally I knew I needed support in my ministry--and more than the occasional acceptance letter offers. So I attended some writers' conferences and hooked up with a few other people who write for publication. I rely on these friends for the under-standing and encouragement that only a fellow writer can give. In his book The Four Loves, C.S. Lewis writes beautifully about the origin of a friendship. He says a friendship originates when two people, often engaged in a common task, disclose some-thing of their inner selves to each other. They turn to each other in amazement and say, "You, too?" We in church ministry need to experience that "you-too?-ness" with others who are engaged in the same or similar ministry. 186 Review for Religious Being More than a Minister A fourth way we can go the distance in our ministry is to be more than a minister. We probably all agree that we are more than we do, and that we are far more valuable than what we pro-duce. But an effective minister does more than give intellectual assent to that truth. He or she makes decisions based on it. He or she takes time to be more than a minister, knowing how pathetic it is if a minister's identity is restricted to a particular job or title. There is always a danger of turning even church work into an end in itself. Workaholism is alive and well in most business organizations and (we have to admit with sadness) also in our church. The problem is, workaholism, though a real addiction, looks a lot like dedication. If a minister in the church is addicted to alcohol or gambling or food or sex, chances are someone (or someones) sooner or later will intervene to help that person. But if a minister is addicted to work~staying up all hours of the night, never taking time for a break or vacation, never socializing with people in a nonwork setting--we sometimes let him or her go on. Or even worse, we praise that person, thus encouraging the addiction. In this regard, we should recall that the primary biblical image of heaven is not an office, not a school, not a parish. It is a party, a banquet. If all we do our whole life is work, work, work, chances are we are going to feel extremely out of place in heaven. We will not know what to do, how to let go, how to have fun. No, we ministers should learn how to be party people while we are still here on earth--even as we minister. We work hard, yes, knowing full well that our ministry cannot always be restricted to certain office hours. But we also know how to get away, how to enjoy people and have fun. The Cross, the Cost So far we have looked at four ways to help prevent compas-sion fatigue in our ministry. But there is one more word I wish to say about compassion fatigue: sometimes it is the cross we bear, the cost we pay. Our fatigue is not always a sign that we are doing something wrong. Sometimes it is a sign that we are doing some-thing right. Our periodic fatigue and occasional discouragement put us in touch with our limits. And experiencing our limits is vital to effective ministry. Otherwise we run the risk of living in March-April 1992 187 Svoboda ¯ Going the Distance illusion, of beginning to think that we are responsible for the good we do or that we are the "good news" we proclaim--and not Jesus. Our ministry, in order to be authentic, must cost us some-thing-- in time, in energy, in love. I am reminded of that seem-ingly insignificant incident in the story of David at the end of the second book of Samuel. David, nearing the end of his life, goes to a man named Araunah and asks to buy his threshing place in order to build an altar there for the Lord. Araunah tells David, "Take it, Your Majesty." And he offers to give several oxen, too, all free of charge. But David refuses to accept Araunah's gifts. He insists on paying for everything, saying, "I will not offer the Lord my God sacrifices that have cost me nothing." At times we all get weary in our ministry. Our fatigue, loneliness, or discouragement are part of the cost of our love and service of others, part of the sacrifice we make regularly to God for the privilege of serving in the church. The Ministry of Jesus How does all of this relate to the person of Jesus? How did he remain loving and alive throughout his ministry? First of all, Jesus had the big picture. He possessed an amazingly expansive view of reality. He looked at a crude fisherman and saw a great leader. He observed the birds in the air and comprehended God's provident care. He beheld a sinful woman and recognized her as a woman who loved much. Jesus was always ready to adjust his perspective, to align it ever more closely with that of the Father. Nowhere is that more clearly seen than in Gethsemane. Jesus' initial reaction to his impending crucifixion was "Please let this pass!" But by let-ting go of his limited perspective, he could say, "Your will be done"; in other words, "I embrace your point of view." Jesus saw babies and not diapers. That is, he focused on indi-vidual people and not on the immense task he had to perform. The Gospels show Jesus speaking to large crowds, of course, but more often they show him relating to individuals: the twelve apos-tles, the man with a withered hand, a centurion, a demoniac, Simon's mother-in-law, a particular deaf man, a grieving widow, an epileptic, Jairus, Nicodemus, Mary and Martha, and so forth. The clear impression is that Jesus ministered to individuals. Even more important, individuals were his legacy. Jesus did not leave 188 Review for Relig4ous behind a spiral notebook on how to run a church. He did not write a curriculum nor even one encyclical. Instead, he left behind people--individuals--whose lives he touched and radically altered. Maybe we have to ask ourselves: How do we measure the effectiveness of our ministry? By the number of reports we fill out? By the neatness of our office? By the thick-ness of our files? Or by the individuals we have ministered to and with--and those we have allowed to minister to us? Jesus liked support groups. In fact, he even started one: the apostles. He also went outside that group for the kind of support that those dozen men could not give him. He seemed to need and appreciate the feminine encouragement of a Mary and a Martha, the unique devotion of a Mary Magdalene. The Gospels show Jesus enioying people. He was not always preaching or teaching or giving workshops. He was relaxing in the company of his friends and colleagues. Even in his darkest hour in Gethsemane, he did not "go it alone." He took part of his support group with him: Peter, James, and John. They disappointed him, yes, as people sometimes disappoint us, too. But Jesus understood their weakness and forgave them, knowing his ultimate support group was the Father and the Spirit. Lastly, Jesus was more than a minister, much more. Van Gogh supposedly said, "If you want to know God, love many things." One reason Jesus was so close to God was because he loved so many things, so many varied aspects of life. Jesus was perhaps a carpenter. What can we deduce from that simple fact? He had a "good eye," a highly developed aesthetic sense. He had a steady hand and knew and appreciated wood. Jesus was a storyteller, too, and a fine one. His "Good Samaritan" and "Prodigal Son" are masterpieces. 0nly a person in touch with the core of life could have spun such magnificent yarns. Jesus was well acquainted with other components of life: bread baking, barbecuing, wine making, and farming, to name but a few. He was keenly aware of the political situation of his times. He was in touch with the prejudices of his day as well as the hopes and dreams of his people. He was something of a naturalist, too, sen-sitive to the changing seasons and to the flora and fauna of his Our ministry, in order to be authentic, must cost us something.- in time, in energy, in love. March-April 1992 189 Svoboda ¯ Going the Distance immediate environment. Little wonder Jesus was so effective as a minister--for he was so much more than one. He was a person fascinated by life, and thus he became a source of fascination--and salvation--for others. Yes, Van Gogh said it: "If you want to know God, love many things." But Jesus lived it, leaving an example for all of us who would follow in his footsteps: "If you want to minister, love many things!" The Long-Distance Runner When I taught high school in Raleigh, North Carolina, in the late 70s, I had a senior girl who was a top-ranking long-dis-tance runner. Julie taught me that there is a world of difference between the sprinter and the long-distance runner. The training and techinques are vastly different. The sprinter's goal is near, often clearly visible. He or she relies on a quick burst of energy to reach that goal within a matter of seconds. Because the dis-tance is so short, the sprinter runs side by side, neck and neck, with other runners who provide an impetus for the sprinter to run hard and fast. Not so with the long-distance runner. This runner's goal is miles away, not even visible. He or she must take steps all along the way to conserve energy for the long haul. Pacing becoInes critical. Although the runners in a marathon start out together, toward the end of the race they often find themselves running alone and forced to rely on deep inner resources and not the near-ness of fellow runners to keep them going to the end. The image of the long-distance runner is an appropriate one for those of us engaged in ministry. For most of us are in ministry for the long haul. We do not want our loving service to deterio-rate into a stoic sense of duty, but to remain a joyful gift. We do not want resentment to contaminate our pool of selfless giving. Instead we want our generosity to be alive and well, our com-passion tender and strong. And we wish to carry our enthusiasm for the Good News all the way to the finish line. Thank God, we do not run alone: God, our God, goes with us--the whole distance. 190 Review for Religious HALBERT WEIDNER Newman's Living the Oratory Charism As the biographical approach to writers and thinkers pro-liferates, so does the controversy over its historical worth. I am taking a biographical approach to John Henry Newman with some trepidation because of the length of his life, his great contributions to thought, and the complexities of the issues. Still I am encouraged in the enterprise by Newman him-self, who insisted on the validity of personal influence in the pur-suit of truth) I intend in this essay first to introduce readers to the Oratory of St. Philip Neri, which Newman brought to England, and then to discuss the Oratory as important for understanding certain values in Newman's life. Newman arrived at these values and maintained them at some personal cost. That cost represents for this author, another Oratorian, the personal drama of grace and conversion of a founding father among English-speaking Oratories. The Nature of an Oratory of St. Philip Neri The first thing that should be said about an Oratory is what it is not. It is not a religious order. There are no vows, no oaths, no promises of any kind public or private. There is no Rule. You will see a Rule mentioned in the time of Newman, but actually what you have are constitutions representing the practice of the Roman house in the latter part of the sixteenth century.2 Philip Neri was a reluctant founder who refused to write a Rule or con-stitutions. Halbert Weidner CO sends these reflections from the Spiritual Life Center; 2717 Pamoa Road; Honolulu, Hawaii 96822. March-April 1992 191 This irregular founder lived from 1515 until 1595, coming to Rome as a young Florentine in 1533. He was not ordained until he was thirty-six years old. He had been a student, a hermit and mystic, and a member of a reforming confraternity which served sick pilgrims, that is, the poor who became ill while visit-ing Rome. He lived in a set of apartments with other priests as part of a complex named San Girolamo della Carit~. It was in a prayer room at this church that the crowd who could no longer fit into Philip's rooms began to gather daily at the siesta hour for prayer. It was this afternoon gathering of laity which was the first Oratory.3 Perhaps the best description of St. Philip's intent is given by Newman himself in The Idea of a University: He [Philip Neri] was raised up to do a work ahnost peculiar in the church--not to be a Jerome Savonarola, though Philip had a true devotion towards him and a tender mem-ory of his Florentine house; not to be a St. Charles, though in his beaming countenance Philip had recognized the aure-ole of a saint; not to be a St. Ignatius, wrestling with the foe, though Philip was termed the Society~ bell of call, so many subjects did he send to it; not to be a St. Francis Xavier, though Philip had longed to shed his blood for Christ in India with him; not to be a St. Caietan, or hunter of souls, for Philip preferred, as he expressed it, tranquilly to cast in his net to gain them; he preferred to yield to the stream, and direct the current, which he could not stop, of science, literature, art, and fashion, and to sweeten and to sanctify what God had made very good and man had spoilt.4 Those who gathered around Philip found a mystic, a reformer, and a humanist, but they did not find him in a cloister or in any religious order. They found him in his rooms with the doors wide open to the public and surrounded by laity. This is why the Oratory is first and foremost secular. It was this laity that formed the original gathering for prayer in a place of prayer (that is, an oratory) and these same laypersons who preached, led prayers, sang in the vernacular, and studied together each afternoon under Philip's guidance. The Congregation of the Oratory is a secondary group of secular priests and laity which gathered around Philip as the Oratory became less of a movement and more of an institu-tion. But before this, Philip carried on the ministry of prayer and reflection from 1551 until 1575, more or less activating the laity as the leaders. It was in 1575 that a secondary group of priests and brothers had gathered sufficiently to be formally organized 192 Review for Religious with papal approval. But this Congregation was without any con-stitutions and was still primarily organized for the initial group of laity,s Constitutions for the Congregation were not finished until 1612, seventeen years after Philip's death. Later the institution of the congregation became more clericalized as not only the pri-mary group of laity disappeared, but even the brothers were no longer accepted, leaving a congregation of secular priests who lived together in community. While the Oratory is unique within Roman Catholicism, its values represent a mind-set present among many reformers of the early sixteenth century. This reforming spirit is symbolized by the values St. Jerome came to represent within a church loaded down with religious orders heavy on structure and low in spirit. Erasmus had noted that, in the days of St. Jerome, "the profession of a monk consisted in no more than the practice of the original, free, purely Christian life.''6 The summary of Erasmus's thinking about the ideal religious given us in Eugene Rice's St. Jerome in the Renaissance could also be a description of the spirit animating the early Oratory of St. Philip: Monks then were men who wished only to live with willing friends in liberty of spirit close to the teachings of the Gospel. Their lives were sweetly leisured. No ceremonies or man-made regulations fettered them. No single dress was prescribed. No deference was paid to total abstinence. They studied, they fasted, and sang psalms as the spirit moved them. They took no vows.7 This being said, we can note some positive elements in the Congregation of the Oratory: A. It is a center of prayer by nature. The classical form that this prayer takes dates back to the more intimate group that gath-ered in the evening around Philip. This amounts to about a half hour of silent prayer or meditation concluded with vocal prayers. The two-hour prayer sessions led by and for the laity at the time of St. Philip have been the casualty of time. Likewise the primary group of laity called the Oratory has also passed away except for a remnant often called "the Little Oratory." This name is quite ironic since what has become "little" was in fact the biggest and the first of the founder's works, not to say the very reason behind it all. Except for a directive to somehow maintain the secular or "Little Oratory," the ministry of the Congregation is otherwise unspecified and unspecialized. Each house tends to the work at 21/larch-April992 193 The life of an Oratory is said to be built on a deep regard for "well-known faces.' hand, and assignments tend to reflect the talents of the members. Philip Neri was against centralization and so put on its own every house that wished to follow on his general pattern. He believed that duplication was impossible and that each situation called for its own approach. B. Face-to-face association is essential to the Oratory. In a phrase going back to the community's origins, the life of an Oratory is said to be built on a deep regard for "well-known faces.''8 There were no fears to be engendered in an Oratory over friendships, and such a pol-icy militated against large sizes and the anomaly of "communities" of religious who have to resort to books with mem-bers' pictures for help in identification. C. Relative permanence is an ideal even though there are no vows or any-thing else holding a person to an Oratory. Perseverance is a fundamental aspect of the house spirituality and is often prayed for aloud at community prayer. Note that members cannot be transferred from one house to another and that, if they leave a house to go voluntarily to another that has freely accepted them, they must usually transfer membership as well. This means that problems with and among members must be worked out within the house since, obviously, transference cannot be the solution. Dismissal from a house is a rare and difficult pro-cedure. D. Small numbers, then, are the consequence of Oratorian living. The Constitutions of the Congregation go so far as to say that the power of an Oratory resides in such a small membership. Large numbers would weaken a house, which is supposed to be built on interpersonal relationships. When Newman wrote The Present Position of Catholics in England, he was addressing the men of the secular or Little Oratory. Towards the end, he applies this Oratorian principle of strength despite small numbers when he tells them: Your strength lies in your God and your conscience; there-fore it lies not in your number. It lies not in your number any more than in intrigue, or combination, or worldly wisdom. God saves whether by many or by few; you are to aim at 194 Review for Religious showing forth His light, at diffusing "the sweet odor of His knowledge in every place": numbers would not secure this. On the contrary, the more you grew, the more you might be thrown back into yourselves, by the increased animosity and jealousy of your enemies. You are enabled in some mea-sure to mix with them while you are few; you might be thrown back upon yourselves, when you became many? The Oratory, then, exists to embody the ideal of koinonia, liv-ing together as a fruit of the Holy Spirit and a sign of God's rule. The Oratory is very conscious that only the Spirit can keep it together faithful to the charism and that a life of prayer and open-ness is the only way to persevere with any kind of fruitfulness. Community in this context is not a utility, but an end, the pres-ence of each person's final destiny in the communion of saints somehow present now. E. The Oratory is collegial to a unique degree. All major pol-icy decisions are made by the entire congregation of members who have finished six years. Personnel and financial decisions on a smaller scale are decided by a deputed congregation elected by the membership. The provost is the title of the "superior" who holds the office as first among equals. He is chiefly an adminis-trator and his authority rests in moral persuasion. His only clear power is that of proposal since neither the general congregation nor the smaller deputed congregation can discuss or vote on any-thing without this proposal. Since the provost serves only three years, any provost resisting the majority can only hold out for a certain time. E The Congregation of the Oratory is also juridically pon-tifical. Today each house is now part of a very loose confederation, but each is still a complete pontifical congregation. Each superior is a major superior. In Newman's time there was no confederation at all, and so each house was directly involved with the Roman Curia. This gives each small house a double relationship. They are rooted in their diocese and have a special relationship to the local church and the bishop on one hand, and yet on the other look to the Holy See for the preservation of the charism. We shall see how each of the elements of the Oratory Congregation played a role in the life of Newman. Newman and the Oratory I have chosen five aspects of Newman's life where I believe the March-April 1992 195 Oratorian charism was arrived at and purchased at some cost to him. These are: (1) the elasticity of the Oratory and Newman which was tested in his assumption of the rectorship of the Irish Catholic University, (2) the choice he had between a university apostolate and the Oratory during the Irish Catholic University founding, (3) the promotion of the laity in fields rightly theirs that had been co-opted by clericalism, (4) the resistance to foreign cultural aspects of Roman Catholicism in favor of an indigenous English religious life, (5) fidelity to community life in one place and one people. 1. The Elasticity of the Charism I have said that each Oratory has a great deal of elasticity to it as the congregation has no specific work to which its members are bound. This elasticity is from time to time tested within an individual Oratory, and Newman's assumption of the rectorship of a yet-to-be-founded university in Dublin was a very grave exper-iment in just how flexible an Oratory can be. But the flexibility had a true Oratorian origin. First, it was the result of consultation with both Birmingham and the not-yet-independent London house. Father Faber's letter indicates that the London community thought it good for the congregation that Newman assume the rectorship rather than anything less demand-ing, but less powerful.~° Secondly, it took a papal brief confirm-ing the arrangement before the attempt was made to do the impossible, that is, allow Newman to bilocate as provost in Birmingham and rector in Dublin.11 Thirdly, it was specifically for the purpose of starting a Dublin Oratory, and Newman's build-ing plans indicate he gave priority to the Oratory in that the uni-versity church built there was for the sake of a potential foundation.12 But Newman knew how precarious it was for an Oratorian to be away from his house. In a letter to Ambrose St. John he says, "I trust we shall have an Oratory in Dublin--which is the only thing I can bribe St. Philip with for coming here.''13 That it was a disaster emotionally for Newman and a serious drain on the Birmingham Oratory does not make it any less Oratorian for all that. Because of its lack of structure, it is typical of an Oratory to try to do too much rather than too little. It is easy enough to document other Oratories trying to stretch too thin. Thus we have the Oratory of Goa, India, sending Joseph Vaz to Sri Lanka at a time of persecution and in the clothing of a Hindu 196 Review for Religious holy man. There he labors with other Oratorians scattered around the countryside more like clerks regular than sons of St. Philip.14 My own Oratory in South Carolina had members scattered throughout the state during half of its history and only recently and with great difficulty has been able to return all of the mem-bers to a community life.Is During the time of St. Philip, the Oratory took on dependent missions for a while until St. Philip and the community abruptly called a halt to this development.Is So it is Oratorian to push the Oratory to the extreme and perhaps beyond. It is also Oratorian to eventually return to saner limits and the grace of a life closer to the original charism. 2. The Preference for Obscurity If Newman's acceptance of the rectorship pushed the Oratorian charism beyond limits, his fidelity to an Oratorian voca-tion is demonstrated by his resistance to a classic temptation against the life to which he believed God called him. The asceti-cism of the Oratory is a rigorous egalitarianism. Each member has one vote and all are equal and most aspects of the life are governed by the majority when not regulated by the constitu-tions. It was not uncommon among the best and brightest of St. Philip's followers to leave the Oratory, usually under papal "obe-dience," for higher positions in the church. That St. Philip him-self managed to escape or refuse such offers does not seem to be a grace extended to many of his followers. One of St. Philip's aphorisms was "love to be unknown,''17 but it is a hard saying. And it was a grace extended to Newman. Simply put, when presented with a full-time rectorship of the Irish university, Newman chose the small, obscure Oratory of Birmingham, England.I8 He was consistently resistant to any compromise on this point even though the choice seemed impenetrably obscure to both friends and foes. This disregard for the existence, rights, and potential of the Birmingham Oratory was one of Newman's great crosses. Newman complained, "Me they wish to use--me they wish to detach in every way from my own Fathers.''19 Separating an Oratorian from his community has not always been difficult, and there is evidence to indicate that some of these peo-ple thought they were doing Newman a favor by trying to detach him from the Oratory. Another fear of Newman's was the bad effect an absent provost would have on attracting new members to the Birmingham Oratory. This made the arrangement with the March-April 1992 197 university and Archbishop Cullen finally untenable.2° From inside the Oratory, the sacrifice of an outside position seems to be the heart of a vocation that embraces the asceticism of simply being one among many. 3. Maintaining the Preference for Laity The University episode also exemplifies another Oratorian principle, the importance of laicity to church and Oratory. As I have said, in the nineteenth century much of the lay character of the Oratory was atrophied. Only the little Oratory existed in some places and in some forms. Within some of the Congregations there were lay members or "brothers," for want of a better word, but as in most societies defined as congregations of priests, these brothers had no vote and seniority depended on holy orders first and seminary status second; only third came the brothers, who followed the youngest seminarians. But at a time when brothers in clerical communities of priests were treated as second-class members and even much like servants, Newman wrote to the act-ing superior of Birmingham the following directive: I am somewhat pained, my dear Edward, to hear you speak of us as 'Gentlemen--' We are not Gentlemen in con-tradistinction to the Brothers--they are Gentlemen too, by which 1 mean, not only a Catholic, but a polished refined Catholic. The Brothers are our equals . The Father is above the Brothers sacerdotally--but in the Oratory they are equal2~ This is indeed the spirit of St. Philip, whose esteem for the lay members of the congregation as well as of the religious orders was well known. But making this point about equality is still a struggle today within the congregations. In my opinion, if you ask many Oratorians what the Oratory is, they will simply say that it is a community of priests, without communicating at all the possibility of full lay membership and, since the Second Vatican Council, full voting rights. Newman's second contribution as an Oratorian to laicity was his emphasis on the secular Oratory or the Oratory as a lay move-ment. The revival of the secular or Little Oratory was "more important than anything else," at least in his own eyes. He real-ized that this was not a burning isst.e among the other Oratories, but he himself believed that, if the secular Oratory was not estab-lished, then the Congregation of the Oratory should be consid- 198 Review for Religious ered a faih~re.22 It was, as I said, for the secular Oratory that Newman wrote the lectures now called The Present Position of Catholics, and it is this volume I would call Newman's literary con-tribution to laicity. Perhaps Newman would agree with me, as he believed it in his old age to be his "best written book.''23 It is at any rate, in the opinion of Ian Ker, a popular, even Dickens-like piece of wit and rhetoric introducing the grander themes later developed in his explorations of the nature of a university.24 And, finally, it must be noted that for Newman laity meant men and women. Women had not been his-torically part of the secular Oratory, and so he petitioned Rome for a secular Oratory for women. Even though it did not develop, the rescript obtained estab-lished a new precedent.2s It was this regard for laity as essential to the religious enterprise of the Oratory that informs Newman's Idea of a University, where laicity is central to the educational enterprise. In my reckoning, this is his third contribution to laicity, but probably the best-known outside the Oratory. Newman believed that it was his struggle to appoint a lay vice-rector, to define the university as the province of the laity, and to develop self-moti-vated students with a minimum of authority which led to the ruin of the project.26 It was such "dreadful jealousy of the laity," Newman also believed, which led to the rejection of another planned Oratory at another university, this time no less than Oxford itself.27 Secularity and laicity, principles at the heart of the Oratory of St. Philip Neri, made it impossible for Newman to spread the congregation when both such principles were feared and rejected by church officials who felt the church to be under siege. That the ability to act and to be respectful of church author-ity were compatible seems to be exemplified in the life of the very independent personality Philip Neri. But, when Newman wished to prove the principle by anecdote, he very cleverly chose the most authoritarian of religious societies, the Jesuits, to make his point: "Nothing great or living can be done except when men are self governed and independent: this is quite consistent with a full maintenance of ecclesiastical supremacy. St. Francis Xavier wrote Regard for the laity as essential to the religious enterprise of the Oratory informs Newman's Idea of a University. March-April 1992 199 to St. Ignatius on his knees; but who will say that St. Francis was not a real center of action?''-'s 4. Preference for the Local Culture Around an Oratory Besides preserving laicity, Newman desired also to preserve English culture within the Roman Catholic Church. St. Philip Neri's emphasis on autonomous houses or congregations was rooted in his belief that each locale had its own culture and that the needs of the place had to be met through this culture. There could be nothing more contrary to the spirit of the Oratory than for any of the congregations to see themselves as the importers of foreign customs. The Italian devotionalism of such an Oratorian figure as the famous Father Frederick Faber of London was really a misguided attempt to re-create not only another culture but also another time. Ironically, the culture and time chosen by Faber was the Baroque era--when the Oratory was spreading through Europe, but a century later than Philip's own time and work. The extravagances of Faber and some other members of the London Oratory would not have been as effective as they were without the backing of the Dublin Review (seen to be the voice of London's Archbishop Manning)29 and W.G. Ward. When Newman had a chance to defend Roman Catholicism against some charges of his old Anglican friend E.B. Pusey, there was also the possibility of distancing that same Catholicism from the foreign enthusiasm of converts like Manning, Ward, and Faber. Newman could declare: "I prefer English habits of belief and devotion to foreign, from the same causes, and by the same right, which jus-tifies foreigners in preferring their own. In following those of my people, I show less singularity, and create less disturbance than if I made a flourish with what is novel and exotic.''3° "What is novel and exotic" to many English Catholics was for the London Oratory the true renewal of Catholicism and of the Congregation of the Oratory at the same time. Father Bernard Dalgairns left the Birmingham Oratory for the London house with a condemnation of Newman and his fellow members who had adopted a position paper which has been called an "Apologia pro vita sua--Oratoriana." 3~ Newman had insisted earlier that an Oratory is "the representative of no distant or foreign interest, but lives a~nong and is contented with its own people.''~-~ The con-troversy with Dalgairns assisted the Birmingham house in defin-ing itself against the London clai~n to be normative)3 200 Review for Religious Birmingham did not issue a counterclaim as the true measure of Oratorian life, but it did insist that its own very English adap-tation to education and culture in its own time and place was cer-tainly an authentic version of Oratorian life. The Idea of a University, with its marvelous panegyric of St. Philip Neri, is the public version of these private Oratory position papers which were worked on at the same time. In short, the Birmingham com-munity saw the idea of the Oratory and the idea of the university as complementary and consistent with each other. That authority within another Oratory, authority in the English Catholic hier-archy, and authority in Rome saw this as dangerous eventually prevented Newman from a university ministry and the founding of two Oratories, the one in Dublin, the other in Oxford. If he had not been thwarted--we can ask not only what effect this would have had on the Catholic Church's presence in higher education, but also what kind of model the Oratory would have become for that presence. ~. Fidelity to One Place and Community If Newman's devotion to the Oratory as a humanistic Christian community making the best of its own time and place cost him considerable loss of influence, it also explains why Newman was always hoisted between the limitations of the local hierarchy and Roman authority. As small as an Oratory usually is, it is nevertheless a community of pontifical right. But, because the members never move out of this small community, it is inti-mately involved in the local church and becomes specially related to the bishop. This arrangement was meant to allow the Oratory to serve both worlds best, but it also means that the Oratory is vulnerable to the worst of both. And it was the worst that Newman often had to suffer. Suffering at the hands of both local officials and Curial bureaucrats was the fate of the Oratory's founder, St. Philip Neri, but it took Newman some time to realize that such was his own unavoidable fate.34 In 1856 he could be sanguine about Roman love of an English house of St. Philip ("Be sure," he wrote, "that, if we are really doing work, Rome will never be hard on us, even if we are informal, imprudent, or arbitrary").35 By the 1860s he had suffered enough to be afraid of Rome calling him to the Curia for trial of his opinions and judgments. He was so afraid that he considered such a prospect as the threat of death.36 The March-April 1992 201 bishop of Birmingham was of no help in the face of Roman threats. Newinan wrote privately in 1867 that Ullathorne "wishes to be kind to me, but to stand well with people at Rome super-sedes in his mind every other wish. So he is a coward.''37 We can be considerably grateful that the insight into the abuses of church power led him to write in 1877 the great preface to the ¼"a Media in which he developed a theology of abuses in the church. He asks us to contemplate the implications of Matthew 13 and to choose the complexities and shortcomings of a world church rather than the narrow confines and perfection of a sect. That is, for the sake of Catholicity, we must realize that sanctity will not always be an equally prominent mark of the church.3s Conclusion The burden of this short paper has been to indicate some areas where Newman cannot be completely understood without a direct reference to the Oratory of St. Philip Neri. I would say several areas have been directly touched on. First, there is the mystery Why Birmingham? Why would such a talented person remain faithful to this city when he had been born in London and had adopted Oxford and its university? If living in Birmingham is of any consequence in understanding the mystery of Newman, then only the Oratory suffices for an explanation. Newman consciously rejected the London option because his absence from Birmingham would have been the death of a community wishing to live around him.39 And it is within the mystery of a providence that settled the Oratory in Birmingham that we have the mystery of Newman's fidelity to St. Philip, a fidelity which certainly shaped the field of Newman's activities which we have now inherited. Secondly, knowing the Oratory helps us understand how Newman was able to function as pastor and theologian. He had no official standing in a seminary or a university, and his membership in the Oratory cut him off from preferments in the diocese. Yet, despite the fragility of the Oratory and Newman's vulnerability to his enemies with real power bases, he was able to accomplish much. As a pastor he was perpetually available to a local people, and as a teacher he could, in the Congregation, exercise his tal-ents and find reinforcement of his values. Thirdly, the prophetic stands which he brought to the Roman 202 Review for Religious Catholic Church found a congenial place within the tradition of Philip Neri and the Oratory. Laicity, education, and culture were not feared in the Oratory, but promoted. Certainly the Oratory could accommodate the interests of such a person as Newman, and this I think says a lot for the Oratory. Finally, the Oratory provided an emotional complementarity for Newman. Newman had written that he had "never liked a large Oratory. Twelve working priests has been the limit of my ambition. One cannot love many at one time; one cannot really have many friends.''4° The rather intimate expression of this is found in the well-known conclusion to the Apologia, but I would beg an indulgence to cite a lesser-known example found in Meriol Trevor's Life. Late in life some parishioners brought Newman a portrait of himself as a gift to the Birmingham Oratory. Newman replied to them in these words: You ask for my blessing and I bless you with all my heart, as I desire to be blessed myself. Each one of us has his own individuality, his separate history, his antecedents and his future, his duties, his responsibilities, his solemn trial, and his eternity. May God's grace, His love, His peace rest on all of you, united as you are in the Oratory of St. Philip, on old and young, on confessors and penitents, on teachers and taught, on living and dead. Apart from that grace, that love, that peace, nothing is stable, all things have an end; but the earth will last its time, and while the earth lasts, Holy Church will last, and while the Church lasts, may the Oratory of Birmingham last also, amid the fortunes of many generations one and the same, faithful to St Philip, strong in the protection of our Lady and all Saints, not losing as time goes on its sympathy with its first fathers, whatever may be the burden and interests of its own day, as we in turn now stretch forth our hands with love and awe towards those, our unborn successors, whom on earth we shall never kFIow.41 From the Oratory of Birmingham, England, Newman gives a blessing because he believed his life as an Oratorian was itself a blessing. For this reason the Oratory might merit a considera-tion when we think of Newman and what it cost him to be a Catholic and what it was like for him to rejoice as an old man after a long time not only in the Catholic Church but in the Oratory of St. Philip Neri. March-April 1992 203 Notes ~ NewInan's classical exposition of this is found in University Sermons, vol. 5, pp. 75-98, and elucidated very well by Stephen Dessain in The Spirituality offfobn Henry Newman (Minneapolis, 1977), pp. 31-55. But see this theme repeated in an Oratorian context in Newman's Oratory Paper No. 6 in Placid Murray, Newman the Oratorian (Leominster, England, 1968), pp. 215-216. -' For the documentation of the constitutional development of the Congregation, see Antonius Cistellini CO, Collectanea Vetustorum ac Fundamentalium Documentorum Congregationis Oratorii Sancti Philippi Nerii (Brescia, 1982). ~ The more detailed history of this development can be found in Louis Ponnelle and Louis Border, St. Philip Neri and the Roman Society of His Times (London, 1932), pp. 166-173. 4 Idea, Discourse 9, no. 9. ~ Ponnelle and Bordet, pp. 287-381. 6 Erasmus, Ep. 164, in Opus epistolarum Des. Erasmii Roterodami, ed. P. S. Allen, H.M. Allen, and H.W. Garrod (Oxford, 1906-08), quoted in Eugene Rice Jr., Saint Jerome in the Renaissance (Baltimore, 1985), p. 133. 7 Rice, p. 133. 8 The 1969 Constitutions of the Congregation read in no. 15: "The Congregation follows the primitive Christian community that its char-acteristic power consists not in the multitude of its members, but rather in mutual knowledge--so that there may be a regard for the well-known faces--and in the true bond of love, by which those of the same family may be bound together through the practice of daily customs." See Newman the Oratorian, p. 329, for Newman's familiarity with the con-cept of well-known faces or countenances. ~ Prepos., p. 388. ~o Autobiographical Vt~ritings (AI/V), p. 281. 11AW, p. 286. ~2 Ian Ker, John Henry Newman (Oxford, 1988), p. 433. 13 Letters and Diaries (LD), vol. 14, p. 377. ~4 See S.G. Perera SJ, Life of the Venerable Father Joseph Uaz, Apostle of Ceylon (Galle, 1953). Newman indicates a long-standing knowledge of this special case in a letter written in 1867. ~s There is no history written of this first of the Oratories in the United States, and the archives of the house are very sketchy. There is no written rationale of the house for the scattering of the members, but some effort was made to rotate them back to Rock Hill if they were some distance away. There is an article describing the Rock Hill house written by Edward YVahl, one of the earlier members, in Oratorium, Ann. III, S.I-N. 1, Ian-Iun. 1972, pp. 23-32. ~' Ponnelle and Bordet, pp. 471-474. 204 Review for Religious 17 E A. Agnelli, The Excellencies of the Congregation of the Oratory of St. Philip Neri (Venice, 1825), translated and abridged by F.A. Antrobus, London 1881, chapter 1, section V. is LD, vol. 18, pp. 478,483. 19 LD, vol. 17, p. 447. '-OLD, vol. 18, pp. 114-115. z1 LD, vol. 16, p. 267. 22 LD, vol. 14, p. 274. ,~3 LD, vol. 26, p. 115. 24 Ker, pp. 365-372. 25 LD, vol. 17, p. 137. See Newman the Oratorian, p. 311, for his appre-ciation of the Oratory and women. 26 A~17~ p. 327. 27 LD, vol. 21, p. 327. 28LD, vol. 21, p. 331. ~'9 Ker, p. 579. 3o DiffT, ii, pp. 20-21. 31 Placid Murphy calls these papers another apologia (Newman the Oratoria~l, p. 299). -~'~ Newman the Oratorian, p. 196. 33 Newman the Oratorian, p. 358. 34 The 1848 paper in Newman the Oratorian lists the persecutions Philip suffered (see p. 163). In 1862 he can compare his troubles to the founder's (see AW, pp. 256-257). 35 LD, vol. 17, p. 151. 36 LD, vol. 20, pp. 445-448. ~7 LD, vol. 23, p. 296. 38 See R. Bergeron, LesAbus de L'~glise d'apr& Newman (Paris, 1971), and the annotated edition of Newman's ~a Media (Oxford, 1990), ed. H.D. Weidner. 39 LD, vol. 13, pp. 51-52. 40 Newman the Oratorian. p. 387. 4~ Meriol Trevor, Newman, Light in I:Vinter (New York, 1962), p. 582. March-April 1992 205 DENNIS J. BILLY The Resurrection Kernel theology and spirituality Is there a fundamental principle of the resurrection? The answer to this question depends on the way in which one understands the relationship of history to the reality of the risen Christ. This relationship, in turn, depends on the stance one takes towards the possibility of a transhistorical event and the type of impact it would have on the continuities and discontinuities of historical change. However understood, the impact itself would have vast ramifications for the whole of theology. Resurrection: Distinguishing Idea from Reality At the outset, it may be helpful to distinguish between resurrection (1) as a particular item in the history of ideas and (2) as the reality experienced among the earliest fol-lowers of Christ. The former may be separated from the viewpoint of faith, compared with other ideas about the nature of the afterlife, and evaluated on a rational basis for its various strengths and weaknesses as a viable expla-nation of the nature of life after death. As a transhistori-cal event with historical consequences, the latter is intricately bound to the faith of the primitive Christian community and cannot be studied in such a detached, ana- Dennis J. Billy CSSR continues his reflections on various cen-tral tenets of our faith and their relationship to the vowed life of religious. His address is Accademia Alfonsiana; Via Merulana, 31; C.P. 2458; 00100 Rome, Italy. 206 Review for Religious lyrical manner. Any effort to formulate a fundamental principle of the resurrection must be careful to take both sides of this dis-tinction into account. The Idea of Resurrection. A well-grounded discussion of an idea should begin with an attempt to identify its most distinctive char-acteristics. With respect to its general mean-ing, one could accurately describe the term "resurrection" as a belief common among Christians that, at some point after death, an individual is transformed by the power of the Divinity on every level of his or her anthro-pological makeup--the corporeal, the psy-chological, the spiritual, and the social--and thus raised to a higher level of human exis-tence in a way that always remains in funda-mental continuity with his or her historical, earthly life. The most distinctive marks in this short yet exact account of the idea of resurrection include: (1) personal life after death, (2) in a The idea of resurrection alone safeguards the inviolate dignity of each human being on every level of existence. transformed state, (3) embracing all the anthropological factors of human existence, and (4) in a way continuous with an individual's concrete, earthly life. Each of these elements is essential to the idea of resurrection as it is used in this essay and as it exists in the major Christian traditions. These characteristics also set the idea of resurrection apart from the related idea of bodily resuscitation (for example, the raising of Lazarus, Jn 11:44), as well as from the other major philosophical and religious explanations of the nature of life in the hereafter (for example, the immortality of the soul, reincar-nation, nirvana). When these are compared, the idea of resur-rection distinguishes itselfi (1) from bodily resuscitation, in its emphasis on a transformed existence in life after death; (2) from the immortality of the soul, in its inclusion of all of humanity's anthropological factors in the nature of that existence; (3) from reincarnation, in its rupture of the cycle of time and its insistence on the fundamental continuity of life in the hereafter with a per-son's earthly existence; and (4) from nirvana, in its avowal that final beatitude does not involve the extinction of individual con-sciousness. The greatest strength of the idea of resurrection is March-April 1992 207 that, of all of the ideas about the nature of life after death, it alone safeguards the inviolate dignity of each human being on every level of his or her existence. That is to say that it alone keeps human nature eternally intact while, at the same time, saving the individual from ultimate personal extinction. Its greatest weak-ness is that, in representing the fulfillment of one of the deepest and most profound hopes of the human heart, it seems almost too good to be true, an attractive but highly unlikely possibility. For this reason, of all the ideas of life in the hereafter, resurrec-tion is the one most difficult to accept on the simple basis of faith. The Reality of the Resurrection. Rooted in the hopes of Jewish apoc-alypticism during the centuries just prior to the appearance of Christ, and promulgated during Jesus' own lifetime by the reli-gious elite known as the Pharisees, the idea of resurrection devel-oped to its present form as a result of theological reflection on the nature of the Christ event, most especially in the primitive Christian community's interpretation of the meaning of the apos-tolic experience of the risen Lord. This reflection is intimately tied to the trust that community placed in the validity of the apos-tolic witness and to the experience of faith upon which it rested. It is also the context within which one may speak of the resur-rection not as an idea, but as a reality and a hope. \Vhat precisely happened on the first Easter morning remains shrouded by the subjective awareness of the earliest followers of Jesus. That awareness probably ran the gamut of several emo-tional states--from depression and fear, to suspicion and isola-tion, to incipient faith and the lingering yearning for the retrieval of lost expectations--and most likely varied in each of the persons involved. That is not to say that the event had no basis outside the experience of Jesus' followers, but only that there is no way to determine what it is with any accuracy. It is for this reason that, down through the centuries, the Easter event remains primarily an experience of faith in the lives of Jesus' followers. A distinction must still be made, however, between the faith of those who witnessed the Easter event personally and those whose faith relies on the testimony of the apostles. The procla-mation of the church rests upon the eyewitness accounts of the apostles, that is, on those who made the startling claim to have experienced for themselves the reality of the risen Lord. Their experience of faith remains qualitatively different from that of 208 Review for Religious the believer in the pew, for they claim to have experienced a real-ity outside of themselves, rooted in the objective order, distinct from their own subjectivity, and identified with the person of their Master, Jesus of Nazareth. Without the unprecedented bold-ness and resiliency of these claims, the Christian project would have nothing distinctive in its message and probably would never have gotten off the ground. These apostolic claims emerge from one of two possibilities: the experience of the risen Christ was with or without a basis in the person of Jesus in the external order. That is to say that the experience of the apostles corresponds to a reality outside of themselves or remains entirely subjective in all respects. If the former is true, then the further question must be asked regarding the nature of this basis in the external order. If the latter be true, then the only conclusion to be drawn is that the apostles suffered from self-delusion, that their testimony is false, as is the religion to which it gave rise. The fact that neither of these possibilities can be proven highlights the underlying quality of faith inherent in the conclusions of both the believer and non-believer alike. Still more can be said about the position of the believer. If the apostolic experience of the risen Christ does have an external basis in the person of Jesus, then this affirmation, when combined with the idea of resurrection developed earlier in this essay, nec-essarily points to an event of singular historical significance. Indeed, this event could be measured by the instruments of his-torical observation only by its effects (for example, a missing body) and, for this reason, must be placed in a category unique to itself and understood as a transhistorical event with historical conse-quences. This is so precisely because the risen Christ, existing in a transformed state but in a way continuous with his earthly life, does not lead "a historical existence" in the way in which the phrase is commonly used. That is to say that space and time no longer set the limits for his physical existence. In his resurrected state, Christ is the Alpha and the Omega, a singular dimension unique unto himself, who recapitulates, both now and forever, all The Easter event remains primarily an experience of faith in the lives of lesus" followers. March-April 1992 209 of creation within himself, into the love of the Father and the joy of their Spirit. The Resurrection Kernel From all that has been said, a sound formulation of the fun-damental principle of the resurrection (the resurrection kernel) would consist in the affirmation of faith that the idea of resur-rection has become a reality in the risen Christ. This reality is rooted in the transhistorical nature of the Christ event, whose historical consequences linger even to this day in the ongoing proclamation of the church. Based on the testimony of its apos-tolic forebears, the church has, in its ministry down through the centuries, kept alive for humanity the fervent hope that the deep-est yearnings of the human heart will one day be fully realized. That is to say that the transformation wrought by God in Christ promises to extend itself to all who are incorporated into his body, the church. In this respect, a sharing in the life of the risen Lord may be looked upon as the ultimate destiny of all of humankind and will be impeded only by a stubborn individual or corporate persistence in the life of sin. Given the above formulation, a number of important obser-vations arise: (1) To affirm that an idea has become a reality is to utilize the well-known philosophical distinction between the internal (that is, subjective) and external (that is, objective) orders. The limitations of this distinction are well known, and care must be taken not to stretch the analogy beyond its avowed usefulness. Indeed, special care must be taken not to project the concerns of the so-called critical problem back to a time before its signifi-cance was entirely known. (2) God the Father is the primary agent in bringing about this realization in Christ. Since idea and reality are intimately connected in the Divinity's vision of itself, the resurrection of Christ may be viewed as a providential movement on the part of the Father to bring the plan of redemption in accord with the working of the Divine Mind, that is, the Logos. In this respect, Christ's resurrection is that event which, touching upon history but transcending time, initiates the ultimate return of all created things back to God. (3) This view of Christ's resurrection also sheds light upon 210 Review for Religious the development in the early church of the doctrine of the incar-nation. If it is true that, in Christ's resurrection, flesh has been divinized and lifted up into the reality of the Word, it follows that, at some point prior to this momentous occasion, the Word itself had descended into the reality of human flesh and had become a human person. Putting aside for the moment the vari-ous intricacies involved in discussing the Christological contro-versies in the early centuries of the church, it seems quite appropriate to say that the doctrines of Christ's incarnation and resurrection form two aspects of a single salvific event which, if one were to borrow the Neoplatonic exitus/reditus structure adopted by Aquinas, represents the recreatio,z of all things going out of (exitus) and going back (reditus) to God. It is in this sense that all things are recapitulated in Christ, the New Adam. (4) As described above, the resurrection is not merely the state of Christ's postmortem existence, but an intricate part of the whole process of redemption. If Christ's exitu} from the Father reaches its furthest extension in his passion and death on the cross (described in the Creed as his descent into hell), his reditus is ush-ered in by the events of Easter morning, and his Spirit is the prin-ciple by which all things continue to be gathered into his body and thus into the presence of the Father. (5) As a transhistorical event with historical consequences, the resurrection of Christ exists outside of but in relation to the realm of historical inquiry. In this regard, it lies beyond the realm of scientific investigation and can be affirmed only through faith in the testimony of those claiming to have actually experienced Jesus after his death. That is not to say that the apostles did not experience outside of themselves in the exter-nal order, but only that the basis for their experience cannot be verified. (6) Indeed, probably the only historical consequence of mea-surable scientific value would have been the disappearance of Jesus' body at the actual moment of his resurrection. Since the precise whereabouts of the body was a point of contention even in the initial aftermath of the Easter proclamation (Mt 28:13), one must conclude that, although its disappearance could have been verified, if not scientifically, then at least through pagan eyewitness accounts, it obviously was not. (7) On all other points, the detached observer would not be able to separate the subjective experience of the apostles from March-April 1992 211 the reality of the risen Christ. There would, in other words, have been no way of determining whether or not they were actually experiencing anything beyond their own intensified inner aware-ness. The singularity of this experience would be expected if a transhistorical event were to occur and be experienced in its his-torical consequences. (8) To the extent that it is not based on direct experience but on the testimony of others, the faith of the church is qualitatively different from the faith of the apostles. Not only does it point to the conviction of those who claimed to have experienced the risen Lord, but, in one respect, it is even a purer experience of faith: "Happy are those who have not seen and yet believe" (Jn 20:29). (9) Belief in the risen Christ keeps alive in people the hope that, after death, their lives will not end, but merely change. Because of Christ's resurrection, they look forward to a trans-formed existence in the hereafter, one in continuity with their own lives on earth. Sustained by a believer's prayerful response to the contetnporary challenges of Christian discipleship, this hope forms the basis upon which life in the resurrection is anticipated even in the present. (10) Through their participation in the ministry and life of the church, people receive a foretaste of this transformed exis-tence, especially when they partake of the sacraments around the table of the Lord. It was at the Eucharist where Jesus' disciples recognized him in the breaking of the bread (Lk 24:30). It is there where Christians, even to this day, gather to do the same. This is especially true for those who dedicate their lives to Christ through the following of the evangelical counsels. Religious and the Resurrection In their vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience, religious strive to center their lives upon the reality of the risen Christ. They seek to do so by virtue of their firtn conviction that they are called to share in the life of the resurrection by making the idea of the vows a lived reality in their day-to-day existence. Christ, who exhibited both before and after his resurrection a life dedicated to the Father through the eschatological signs of the evangelical counsels, asks religious to do the same. The strength to do so comes from Christ and is mediated by his Spirit through his church and its ministry of the sacraments. While such dedi- 212 Review for Religious cation is never fully realized in the present, religious are called to imitate Christ throughout their entire lives. It is for this reason that, at the end of their earthly lives, they hope to share in the full-ness of his transformed existence. In their vowed life in common, religious pledge to give them-selves over entirely to the life of the risen Lord. In their vow of poverty, they seek both physical and spiritual detachment from material goods, doing so not out of a suspicion about the fundamental good-ness of creation, but from the convic-tion that it too will undergo a transformation in the fullness of Christ's kingdom. In their vow of chastity, they promise to forgo the goods of marriage, children, and sexual pleasure, thereby accepting Christ's Gospel declaration that there will be neither husband nor wife in the life to come (Lk 20:35) and that, even in the realm of relationships, all who abide in him will live a trans-formed existence. In their vow of obe-dience, they promise to accept the will of their superiors as a manifestation of God's plan for their lives, thus hoping to estab-lish within themselves a continual movement of accord between their own wills and that of the their risen Lord. Finally, in their communal existence, they hold each other accountable for the way of life they have chosen and seek to reflect in their mutual relations that dignity and care appropriate to those who are called to be members of Christ's body. By means of their individual and communal dedication to the evangelical counsels, it is clear that religious seek, even in this present life, a deeper share in the life of the resurrection. Through their vowed life in community, religious thus provide a faithful witness for themselves, the rest of the church, and the entire world that the idea of resurrection has not only been made a reality in Christ but that it is striving, at this very moment, to be realized in the lives of those who believe. In this respect, their witness affirms the movement of Christ's Spirit in the life of the church and provides a foretaste of the life to come. That is not to say that religious embody this charismatic dimension of the church better or more faithfully than any of the other vocations within the Belief in the risen Christ keeps alive in people the hope that, after death, their lives will not end, but merely change. March-April 1992 213 church (for example: single, married, priestly states), but only that their way of life is especially suited to it. Of its very nature, the religious life forIns a part of the charismatic dimension of the church. Indeed, to the extent that religious communities do not manifest to both others and themselves the gentle yet challenging presence of the Spirit, they fall short of the explicit nature of their call to center their lives entirely around the reality of the risen Christ. He it was who first imparted the Holy Spirit to his body, the church. He it is who continues to do so even to the present day. Through their faithfulness to the vows, lived in community and in the Spirit, religious seek mainly to nourish their relation-ship with the risen Christ. This personal relationship to the Lord motivates all of their activity for the establishment of God's king-dom; it is also what draws others to follow their particular way of life. Indeed, the care with which they tend this relationship is itself a sign that the reality of Christ's resurrection is meant for all to share and experience in all its fullness. In this respect, reli-gious must be ever conscious that their vowed life in common has little meaning if it is separated from life in the Spirit of the risen Christ and seen as an end in itself. To be sure, there is noth-ing sadder in the life of the church than to see individual reli-gious and, at times, entire communities lose sight of the meaning of their vocation. When people of such great promise and poten-tial compromise themselves and begin to believe that the Spirit is no longer active in their lives and that things will never change for the better, when men and women, who are called to be signs of hope, begin to believe in the voices of hopelessness, then the time is ripe for a prophet to arise within their midst to challenge them to come back to the Lord and to live the life to which they have been called. At the same time, there is nothing more joyful in the life of the church than to see men and women who, out of love for their Lord, renounce the very things for which they most actually strive during their sojourn on earth. To live in poverty, without children or spouse, and without full personal liberty provides oth-ers with the constantly needed reminder that the fullness of riches, family life, and freedom is ultimately found only in one's rela-tionship to him whom the apostles acclaimed to be truly risen. 214 Review for Religious Conclusion This essay has sought to outline the basic, underlying principle of the Christian doctrine of the resurrection. It has done so, on the one hand, by describing in as precise detail as possible the mean-ing of the idea of resurrection as under-stood in the church's teaching and, on the other hand, by looking into some of the fundamental presuppositions regarding the resurrection of Christ as experienced by his earliest followers. Bringing these two currents of inquiry together, the funda-mental principle of the resurrection (the resurrection kernel) was described as the affirmation of faith that the idea of resur-rection has become a reality in the risen Christ. Seen as a transhistorical event with historical consequences, the acclaimed res-urrection of Jesus of Nazareth lies, for all practical purposes, beyond the scope of scientific verification and remains inti- Through their faithfulness to the vows, lived in community and in the Spirit, religious seek mainly to nourish their relationship with the risen Christ. mately tied to the internal, subjective event of faith to which it gave life. That is not to say that Jesus' resurrection has no ground in the external order, but only that it ultimately lies beyond the scope of controlled observation. In this respect, the faith experi-ence of those who experienced the risen Lord is qualitatively dif-ferent from that of those whose faith rests upon their testimony. Blessed precisely because they believe without seeing, today's believers share in the hope of their own transformed existence which, through their experience of the Spirit in the church com-munity of the faithful, may be experienced even now in the quiet anticipation of the fullness of a reality yet to come. They bring their hearts' deepest yearning for the fullest presence of the risen Christ to the table of the Lord, where they are blessed with a glimpse of

Issue 19.1 of the Review for Religious, 1960. ; Review For Religious Volume 19 1960 Editorial O[[ice ST. h~ARY'S COLLEGE St. Marys, Kansas Publisher TIlE QUEEN'S WORK St. Louis, Missouri EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITORS Augustine G. Ellard, S.J. Henry Willmering, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITORS John E. Becker, S.J. Robert F. Weiss, S.J. DEPARTMENTAL EDITORS Questions and Answen Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Woodstock College Woodstock, Maryland Book Reviews Earl A. Weis, S.J. West Baden College West Baden Springs, Indiana Published in January, March, May, July, September, November on Ihe fifleenlh of Ihe monlh. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is Indexed in Ihe CATHOLIC PERIODICAL INDEX. Act of "Dedication of the Human Race to Christ the King Sacred Apostolic Penitentiary IOn July 18, 1959 (Acta Apostolicae Sedis, 51 11959~, 595-96), the Sacred Apostolic Penitentiary issued a new text of the act of dedication of the human race to the Heart of Christ the King. The text has been revised according to the directives of John XXIII who has also accorded a number of indulgences to the revised prayer. The following is a translation of the new text of the prayer together with the indulgences granted for its recital.I SWEET JESUS, Redeemer of the human race, look do~vn upon us humbly kneeling before Your altar.~ We are Yours and Yours we wish to be; but in order to be still more firmly united to You, today each one of us freely dedicates himself to Your most Sacred Heart. There are many indeed who have never known You; many others have rejected Your commandments and have repudiated You. Be merciful to all of them, 0 kind Jesus, and draw them all to Your holy Heart. Be king, 0 Lord, not only of the faithful who have never abandoned You, but also of the prodigal children who have left You; bring them back quickly to their Father's house lest they die of misery and hunger. Be king of those who have been deceived by erroneous ideas or have been separated by discord; bring them back to the harbor of truth and to the unity of faith so that soon there may be a single fold and a single shepherd. Bestow upon Your Church, 0 Lord, security, liberty, and safety; give to all nations the tranquillity of order; and grant that from one pole of the earth to the other there may ring out the cry: Praise to the divine Heart which brought forth our salvation; to It be glory and honor forever. Amen. July 18, 1959 His Holiness, John XXIII, after abrogating the prayer as given in the Enchiridion Indulgentiarum [Manual of Indulgences], 1952, n. 271, graciously granted the following indulgences: 1) A partial indulgence of five years to the faithful who devoutly recite the above act of dedication with contrite heart. 2) A plenary in- 1When the prayer is recited outside a church or oratory, "in Your presence" should be said instead of "before Your altar." ACT OF DEDICATION dulgence once a month, if they have recited the prayer devoutly every day for a whole month, provided they go to confession, receive Communion, and make a visit to a church or a public oratory. 3) The faithful may gain a partial indulgence of seven years if on the Feast of Christ the King they are present in any church or oratory, even a semi-public one (in the case of those legitimately attending it), when the act of dedication tn the Sacred Heart of Jesus according to the formula given above and the Litanies of the Sacred Heart are recited before the Blessed Sacrament solemnly exposed; moreover, they may gain a plenary indulgence if, besides fulfilling the above conditions, they have gone to confession and Communion. All contrary provisions not withstanding. N. Card. CANALI, Major Penitentiary L. ~I, S. I. Rossi, Secretary Living /aters Frederick Power, $. J. pius XII in his encyclical Haurietis aquas on devotion to the Sacred Heart urges us to"-study diligently the teachings of Scripture, the fathers, and the theologians--the solid founda-tions on which devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus rests." For the Holy Father is "firmly convinced that we can rightly and fully appreciate the incomparable excellence and inexhaustible store of heavenly gifts of this devotion only when we study its nature in the light of divinely revealed truth." The encyclical itself begins with a text from Isaiah: "You shall draw waters with joy out of the Saviour's fountains" (Is 12:3). A few lines further on the Holy Father returns to the idea of the "Saviour's fountains" when he refers to the scene in the Temple at Jerusalem on the Feast of Tabernacles as recorded in John's Gospel, Chapter 7:37-39. The words of our Lord on this occasion are numbered among the principal te~ts which establish the biblical foundation of the devotion. A closer study of this text will be most rewarding and will reveal the appropriateness of the text as the general theme of the encyclical. When the Feast of Tabernacles was at hand, our Lord had declined to go to Jerusalem with His relatives but afterwards went up by Himself "not publicly but as it were privately." The Feast of Tabernacles was held towards the end of Sepo tember after the grain harvest and the vintage and the gathering of the autumn fruit crop. Originally an agricultural festival in-stituted to give thanks to God for the fruitfulness of the soil, it later included the commemoration of the forty years spent by the Hebrews in the desert. In memory of the latter event all Jews of free status except the sick, women, and children lived for the week in huts made from the leafy branches of trees. These huts reminded them of the tents or tabernacles pitched in the wilder-ness of Sinai, a period kept ever fresh in their minds as one in which God gave them the great gifts of the manna and of the water from the rock. The desert ever afterwards remained in Jewish tradition as the place of God's protective presence. Two elaborate ceremonies added to the gaiety of the feast: the procession to the fountain of Siloe and the torch-light illumi-nation of the Women's Court. It is the first of these ceremonies that is of interest for the present article. FREDERICK POWER Review for Religious Each morning the multitude organized into a procession. The people lined the route leading to thepool of Siloe and crowded into the Temple and the surrounding courtyards and porches. Then a procession of priests and Levites descended the valley as far as the pool of Si|oe. Those assisting at the ceremony held a citron fruit in the left hand and in the right a palm branch twined with shoots of myrtle and green willow. The Levites chanted the group of festive psalms called the great Hallel; and the multitude, keep-ing time with the refrain, vigorously waved the fruit and palm branch in token of joyfulness and triumph. The officiating priest carried a golden ewer, and at the pool of Siloe he filled it with water to carry back to the altar of holo-causts. This liturgical act was both a commemorative symbol and a dramatized hope. It recalled the miraculous water that gushed forth from the rock of Horeb beneath the rod of Moses, and it was a figure of the outpouring of graces proper to Messianic times. As the celebrant drew the water of Siloe, the choir repeated the verse of Isaiah: "You shall draw water with joy out of the Saviour's fountains" [12:3), a verse which refers to the blessings promised for the days of the Messiah. This symbol of a spring bursting forth and of water flowing from a fountain was well known to those present, for it is one of the most frequent in the Bible; and in a land afflicted by drought and water scarcity, it was a readily understood symbol of divine blessings. Accordingly, the miraculous event in the desert, when Moses struck the rock with his rod and water gushed forth, was remembered with gratitude in the people's liturgical ceremonies. Moses himself had prayed before the Ark of the Covenant: "O Lord God, hear the cry of this people and open to them thy treasures, a fountain of living water, that being satisfied they may cease to murmur" (Num 20:6). In this text and elsewhere in Scripture "living water" is water flowing from a spring as opposed to the stagnant water of cisterns. It was this symbol of living waters that the prophets used to signify divine blessings. Jeremiah even calls God the fountain of living waters: "For my people have done two evils. They have forsaken me, the fountain of living waters, and have digged to themselves cisterns, broken cisterns that can hold no water" (Jer 2:13). In the last part of the book of Ezekiel, the prophet describes the vision of the holy waters issuing from all sides of the Temple. The desert through which they flow becomes extremely fertile; the trees on their banks have healing power and bear fresh fruit January, 1960 LIVING WATERS monthly. Such is the virtue and dynamism of Yahweh's holy presence in the Temple that it radiates0grace and blessings over the land. Zechariah, too., in speakingof the time of the Messiah, remarks: "In that day there shall be a fountain open to the house of David and to the inhabitants of Jerusalem" (Zech 13:1). The prophets, then, looked on water poured out upon parched land as an image of the new spirit that was to be characteristic of the time of salvation. In .the words of Isaiah: "I will pour out waters upon the thirsty ground, and streams upon the dry land; I will pour out my spirit upon thy seed, and blessing upon thy stock" (Is 44:3). In these texts we see some examples of how the blessings of God and the future blessings of the Messianic era are portrayed under the symbol of living waters, and the passages provide some introduction to the scene in Jerusalem on the last day of the Feast of Tabernacles. After the drawing of the water the procession wended its way up the slope from the pool of Siloe, the officiating priest carry-ing the golden pitcher of water, the Levites chanting psalms, and the crowd singing the refrain. As the procession approached the temple, the people became more enthusiastic, shouting out their response of Hallelu-Yah--Praise Yahweh--with ever greater vehe-mence. It wasin this way that they manifested their deep-felt conviction that Yahweh was their own God who had brought them out of the land of Egypt and had led them safely through the desert. The procession went up to the altar of holocausts just at the moment when the parts of the victim immolated that day were being placed upon it. The priest was greeted by the sacred trumpets and was met at the altar by another priest carrying the wine for the libations. While the people continued their enthusiastic shout-ing, the two pitchers were emptied into conduits that led to the foot of the altar. By this libation it was intended to thank God for the two occasions when He made water flow from a rock to satisfy the thirst of His people in the wilderness. By the same rite the attention of the people was directed to the Messianic promise of living waters and also to the expectation of the fulfillment of the promise which was symbolically signified. For the people were expecting a Messiah who would bring salvation and who was to be another Moses. When the liturgical rite was finished and the singing ended, a silence descended over the throng. Our Lord, who had been 7 FREDERICK POWER Rewew for Rehgmus present among the crowd, now took advantage of this opportunity to reveal His true mission. Mounting a step he cried out to the Jewish people: "If anyone thirst, let him come to me and drink; he who believes in me, as the Scripture says, 'From his heart there shall flow rivers of living water.' " By these words He revealed Himself as the one in whom all the abundant graces of the Messianic period are to be found, the object of the Messianic expectation, the Messiah himself. He is the rock from which the water of life flows; indeed, He is the fountain itself. He is the spring from which anyone who thirsts may quench his thirst. The effect of faith in Him would be the reception and communication of living water. This text requires the explanation of two important points. First, the text as a whole has been interpreted in two ways: that the fountain of living water flows from the one who believes in Christ, or that the fountain flows from Christ, the one in whom we believe. The Holy Father understands the text in the second way in his encyclical; this use, without doubt, holds the richest and profoundest sense, one more in agreement with the Old Testament prophecies given above. It is also more in agreement with the theology of St. John. Secondly, an explanation must be given for the use of the word heart in the text. The Latin edition of the encyclical follows the Vulgate version of the text, the literal translation of which would be: "Out of his belly shall flow rivers of living water." The Latin phrase used is de ventre eius, which literally means "out of his belly." This translation would also be a literal trans-lation of the Greek and Aramaic versions of the text. The trans-lation, however, would not be a correct interpretation of the idea intended. Those who are experts in the Aramaic language agree that for the Hebrews the viscera or the belly was regarded as the seat of the emotions in the same way as we regard the heart. Accordingly a proper translation of the phrase used by our Lord would be "from his heart." Such a translation, though not a literal one, is the proper way to express the idea in terms we understand today. It is what our Lord meant, though He expressed it in the idiom of His own day. It is with this understanding that authorities place this text among the fundamental texts of Scrip-ture regarding devotion to the Sacred Heart. On this occasion of our Lord's revelation of His Sacred Heart, He appeals to Scripture as being fulfilled in His person. He does not refer to one particular text but rather to that whole class of January, 1960 LIVING WATER~ texts from the Old Testament which we considered earlier. The people who heard these ~o.~s could take only one meaning: The man before them was definitely claiming the fulfillment of these prophecies in Himself; He was claiming it and at the same time promising untold blessings to those who would recognize this claim. Certainly St. John is impressed by the words, for he pauses to comment upon them. He tells us that they were prophetic and that they were fulfilled in the final glory of our Lord whicb, for ~John, is our Lord's passion, death, and subsequent transfiguration: "He said this, however, of the Spirit whom they who believed in~ Him were to receive; for the Spirit had not yet been given, seeing that Jesus had not yet been glorified" (Jn 7:39). The Spirit here means the Holy Spirit and includes the abundance of Mes-sianic goods and the gifts of redemption which the Holy Spirit brings to those who believe in Christ. But before the living water would flow, Christ had to be glorified; this was a condition that had yet to be fulfilled. That our Lord's glory was concerned with His passion is seen in His priestly prayer after the Last Supper: "Father, the hour has come! Glorify thy Son, that thy Son may glorify thee, even as thou has given him power over all flesh, in order that to all ,that thou hast given him he may give everlasting life" (Jn 17:2). By sacrificing Himself the Redeemer would cause the Spirit to flow and to open up the "fountain of living water." And this would happen when at the death of the Messiah His Heart would be pierced ~with a lance. The life-giving power of the living waters would find its source in the Blood of Christ as it gushed forth from the wounded Heart of Christ. It is, however, necessary to make here some distinctions between the piercing of Christ's side and the pouring forth of the Holy Spirit. The piercing is not of the same nature as the visible mission of the Holy Spirit on Pentecost. Nevertheless there is an ancient tradition, attested to among others by St. Augustine, that the Church was born from the pierced side of Christ. As Eve was taken from the side of the sleeping Adam, so also the Spouse of Christ, the Church, sprang from the pierced side of the dead Christ, the new Adam in His sleep of death being the source of the new Eve, the Church. And this Church is the Mystical Body of Christ whose soul is the Holy Spirit. FREDERICK POWER Review for Religious That the living waters promised to those who believe in Christ spring from the pierced side of the dead Saviour is also attested to by the common interpretation that for John the water and blood are signs of the sacraments of Baptism and the Holy Eucharist. In his encyclical Plus XII puts it this way: "From this wounded Heart the grace of the sacraments, from which the children of the Church draw supernatural life, flowed most pro-fusely . " And the Holy Spirit is included in the sacrament of Baptism, for the new birth to be effected by Baptism is brought about by "water and the Spirit" as our Lord told Nic~demus. So it is that the prediction of John in Chapter 7 concerning the flowing rivers to come after Christ's glorification was fulfilled when on the cross a soldier "opened his side with a lance, and immediately there came out blood and water" (Jn 19:34). The streams of blood and water are certain signs that now have been fulfilled the Scriptural prophecies of Messianic grace. Now the living water has begun to flow; now the Spirit is given, but only in blood; grace is given but only from the pierced Heart on the cross. Unless the spiritual rock that is Christ had been struck, the waters would nol~ have ~ome forth. And John in his Gospel insists that this incident of the soldier declining to break our Lord's legs and instead opening His side was a momentous event. He emphasizes his own role as an eye-witness of the event: "And he who saw it has borne witness, and his witness is true: and he knows that he tells the truth, that you also may believe" (Jn 19:35). And he puts further emphasis on the event by telling us that by it two prophecies were fulfilled: "Not a bone of him shall you break," and "They shall look upon. him whom they have pierced." The first of these prophecies speaks of the paschal lamb. Now in the concluding events of the passion of Christ it is fully revealed that Christ is the true Lamb of God; accordingly none of His bones were broken. This symbol of the Lamb recalls the mag-nificent theology of the Apocalypse concerning the "Lamb who was slain" (Apoc 5:12). In the Lamb we see the Old Testament prophecies of the Messiah who suffers 'and is glorified in His sufferings: "The Lamb . . . is the Lord of Lords and the King of Kings" (Apoc 17:14). The redeemed are the "bride, the spouse of the Lamb" (Apoc 21:9). In the blood of this Lamb the faithful are able to be cleansed--to be filled with the living waters of the Spirit. And from the fact that the rivers flow forth from the 10 January, 1960 LIVING WATERS wounded Heart of the Lamb, we are led to those passages in the Apocalypse which depict the fulfillment of the prophecies of Isaiah and Ezekiel: "For the Lamb who is in the midst of the throne will shepherd them, and will guide them to the fountains of the waters of life, and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes" (Apoc 7:17); ". he showed me a river of the water of life, clear as crystal, coming forth from the throne of God and of the Lamb" (Apoc 22:1). Thus the act of redemption is enshrined, as it were, in a celestial garden and the redeemed are forever made joyous at the Saviour's fountains. The second prophecy, which is concerned with the piercing of our Lord's side, is from Zechariah: "And I will pour out upon the house of David and upon Jerusalem the spirit of grace and of prayers: and they shall look upon me whom they have pierced and they shall mourn for him as one mourneth for an only son" (Zech 12:10). In this passage God speaks about Himself. As man, He will be the first-born, one for whom they mourn and weep and at whom they gaze although they have pierced Him. God Himself in His human nature brings about the redemption and is the one who gives the living water of the Spirit. He pours forth the Spirit at the moment when the lance opens His Heart. At that moment the Spirit begins to flow and the Messianic work will be prolonged to the end of time when Jesus will come again in glory. In the words of the Apocalypse: "Behold, he comes with the clouds, and every eye shall see him, and they also who pierced him" (Apoc 1:7). Our Lord, then, standing above the throng gathered for the Feast of the Tabernacles, revealed Himself as the long awaited Messiah, the rock of salvation, the fountainhead of all the bless-ings of the Messianic times. For the most part, He was not ac-cepted. A few believed in Him, so John tells us, but only a few. For He is the "stone which the builders rejected." But He is also the rock which will be struck anew for the salvation of the newly chosen people. He will give of His sub-stance to give birth to the new people that He will acquire for Himself. From His pierced side will spring the fountain of eternal life, the rivers of living waters, the Spirit of love, the Church, the new Jerusalem, Baptism and the other sacraments, all the graces of the "last days." The Litany of the Sacred Heart sums it all up in the invocation: "Heart of Jesus, fountain of life and holiness." 11 A Catechism on Obedience of Judgment Paul W. O'Brien, S. J. QWhat are the necessary presuppositions for every act of obedience? A. That the superior has authority and that what he commands is not certainly sinful. Q. Could the superior sin while commanding something not sinful? A. Yes, through sinful motives, for example, envy, injustice, or serious imprudence. Q. What is the formal motive of obedience? A. Authority. Q. Is obedience an act of the will or intellect? A. Obedience of the will is an act of the will; obedience of judgment is formally an act of the intellect, but like faith, is commanded by the will. Q. What is obedience of judgment? A. The conforming of my judgment to the judgment of the superior-because he has authority. Q. To what judgment do I conform? A. Not necessarily to his theoretical (speculative)judgment, that is, something to believe, but to his practical judgment, that is, something to do. The Abbot John did not have to believe that the dry stick would grow into a tree; he had only to believe that God wanted him to water it (for His own mysterious reasons). Q. How would you express this practical judgment? A. Given the order of the superior, I must judge that this is what God wants done (that is, God sanctions with His authority the perhaps mistaken decision of my superior) and that it is best according to the ultimate mysterious plan of God (not necessarily best for the immediate purpose intended by the superior). Q. When I cannot agree with the speculative judgment of the superior and must carry out his practical judgment, how should I obey? A. Not just materially, by merely executing the order (and in such a way as to sabotage the project, emphasizing and dis- 12 O[~EDIENCE OF JUDGMENT playing the weakness of the order, proving the superior wrong); but loyally entering into his, views (without blinding myself to his error), covering up its weaknesses before the public, trying my best to make it succeed. Q. Should I judge the order of the superior to be the will of God because of the reasons of the superior? A. No, but only because he has authority. Q. Then obedience of judgment does not imply that I agree with the reasons of the superior? A. No, it does not imply this. Q. Is it possible to have perfect obedience of judgment and the firm assurance that the superior's order is the will of God for me, while still hesitating over the reasons of the superior? A. Yes. Obedience is specified by authority, not by reasons. Q. Will my obedience of judgment be more perfect in propor-tion as I bring myself into agreement with the reasons of the superior? A. No, though the desire to agree will indicate a more perfect disposition. Q. Then why try to make my reasons agree with the reasons of the superior? A. It helps remove the psychological obstacles to obedience of judgment and chiefly of execution. It is easier to act if humanly speaking I agree with the policy. It is the proper disposition in the face of God's representative. Q. Do I suspend my act of perfect obedience of judgment while I am trying to bring myself to agree with the reasons of the superior? A. No, no more than you suspend your act of faith while you study your catechism or theology. Q. When I have brought myself to agree with all the reasons of the superior, do I have more assurance of doing God's will? A. No. The security that comes from authority (in the line of faith) will always be sufficient and greater than that which comes from the weight of human reasons. (Actually both the superior and I may be agreeing in wrong reasons.) Q. What is "blind obedience"? A. Supposing the two presuppositions of all obedience, I blind myself to the qualities and reasons of my superior, that is, I exclude the consideration of these reasons and motivate my obedi-ence by authority alone. Q. What is the difference between obedience of judgment and 13 PAUL W. O'BRIEN blind obedience? A. There is no difference in the act of obedience. But while obedience of judgment merely states the fact, blind obedience connotes the approach: the exclusion of the consideration of the reasons. Q. Is blind obedience a help to obedience of judgment? A. Yes. It makes obedience of judgment easier and safer for though I could have perfect obedience of judgment while consider-ing, and even while rejecting the reasons, still it is much easier to by-pass these reasons and look simply to authority. Q. Is blind obedience always better? A. No. Even though easier and safer, it is often good and sometimes necessary to consider the reasons of the superior (even while excluding them from the motivation of obedience), for they may: (a) help me to profit by the experience of my elders, (b) enlighten me on the spirit of my community, (c) be necessary to relieve psychological blocks to action, (d) be necessary for the understanding of the mind of the superior in view of carrying out his order more intelligently. Q. What should be my attitude toward the reasons of the superior? A. I should be well-disposed towards them. They are given to help me. I should use them as far as they help. If they trouble me, I should prescind from them and practice blind obedience, But even while using them, I should keep them in second place and unite myself to God through authority. 14 The Theology of Religious Women Yves M.-J. Congar, 0. P. This article was a conference given July 10, 1958, to a convention of French priests charged with the care of religious women. It will ~ppear as a chapter in a book to be entitled Le r61e de la religieuse dans l'Eglise (Paris: Cerf, 1960), a volume in the series Probl~mes de la religieuse d'aujourdhui. The article was first printed in Suppldment de la Vie Spirituelle (1959), 316:42. The present translation is by John E. Becker, S.J. Basic Notions: The Church and the World THE WORLD was set on,its way reality by the creative act. Its story is humanity s quest atos, ,ba e fruitful and multiply; fill the earth and subdue it" (Gen 1:28). For all practical pur-poses, the world, the temporal, history, the drive to civilize are equivalent ideas; the reality they have in common is the effort of man to perfect himself by subjecting, for his advantage, the re-sources inherent in himself and in material creation. And this effort has a direction, a direction which is completely dependent on the facts of Adam's existence: he was at one and the same time both image of God and sinner. As Tennyson said very well, it is only at the end of this great adventure that one can say that man is complete. The Church is something other than this inherent movement of the world or of history even if, as is the case, she envelops it and Ultimately guarantees it. For she does not emerge out of the resources deposited within the first creation. She is placed in the realm of reality by a new initiative of God, properly supernatural, that is to say, an initiative in which God commits and gives Himself (this is the meaning of grace). She is an order of sanctity and sanctification positively instituted from above, a creation of the divine positive law issuing from the priestly, prophetic, and redemptive kingship of Christ. Still she has her existence and, as it were, her proper stability within human societies. Divine insti-tution that she is, she herself creates and shapes according to her needs and her spirit institutional forms proper to herself. On the other hand, the Church is not made to be an end in herself. She is made for God and for the world -- even for the world, to save it by the grace which God has given her to dispense: 15 YvEs M -J CONGAR Rewew for Rehgmus "In it [the faith of the Church] is contained union with Christ.''1 The Church is a new creation of God, and a supernatural one; but she has a mission in and for the world. This mission consists in two things: first, to convert men by making them disciples, that is to say by bringing them into herself, giving them in this way the regeneration of a second birth; and then to sanctify them by communicating to them the grace of the Lord, by forgiving their sins, and by teaching them to conform their lives to the holy and sanctifying will of God;2 second, to operate within temporal life itself in order that in accordance with God's plan it may be directed and oriented towards God to the fullest possible extent. The Church here reveals especially the healing power of grace which, by giv-ing back to nature her primitive orientation, conforms her to the will and to the image of God while at the same time restoring her t'o herself. The Church seeks, by all sorts of initiatives and under-takings, to remold the world according to the plan of God, which is neither the pursuit of self nor the pursuit of power nor egoistic hardness of heart, but on the contrary, service, brotherhood, justice, peace, communion, sharing, helping the poorest, combating all the degrading miseries of body and soul. This is why, from one end to the other of her history and growth, the Church has created ministries inspired by charity. Some of them, more involved with the work of the world and its battles, such as the fight for social justice, are more the role of the laymen within her whom she forms and inspires for this work. Others, more strictly pertinent to her spiritual nature and to her primary office of sanctification, can remain more properly eccle-siastical ministries; such is the case in particular with the corporal works of mercy or the spiritual works such as teaching. "As long as you did it for one of these, the least of my brethren, you did it for me" (Mt 25:40). Basic Notions: The Church in Herself One can consider the Church as the great sacrament of salva-tion and distinguish in her two aspects. She is both the reality of grace or sanctity and she is the means of grace or sanctification: reality and sacrament. Images for comparison are not lacking. However, as with every .image, they are very inadequate, and risk losing through excessive schematization what they gain in clarity. 1St. Ir~naeus, Adversus Haereses, III, 24, 1. ~Mt 28:19-20; Mk 16:15 ft.; Jn 3:3 ft.; 20:21 ff.; Col 1:13; etc. 16 January, 1960 THEOLOGY OF RELIGIOUS WOMEN For example, the Church as a holy reality may be considered to be. a tower or a temple; as a means of. sanctification, to have the instrumental power of a pick, a mining car, a windlass, a scaffold, and all of those things which are necessary ~to bring the rough stone from the mines to the finished building where each has its place and its proper finish (see the hymn for the dedication of a church). Does not St. Augustine distinguish the "society of the sacraments" and the "society of the saints," the former being ordered to the latter? Does he not also write: "The architect builds a permanent edifice with temporary machinery"?'~ To see in the Church the holiness already rooted in souls is not only to consider the depths of her life, it is to see in her that which will always be. "Charity never passes away" (1 Cor 13:8). To live through charity the life of holiness is really to live as a citizen of the eternal and heavenly City of God. In heaven, one might say, there will be nothing else but that. That city knows no hierarchy other than that of holiness or of love. The Virgin Mary is at its pinnacle. In the Church of this world she had neither a function nor a hierarchical dignity. It could readily be said of her that she was a member, the first member, of the laity if there were not the danger of belying by this way of speaking her per-fection as a consecrated member of the faithful. Mgr. Journet says well, following St. Thomas, that the Virgin Mary has per-fectly achieved the highest holiness, not the highest hierarchical dignity.~ She is-the type, or better, the perfect personification of the Church, but of the Church as final end, not as means. Mary is the "eschatological eikon of the Church.''~ That which in the Church is "sacrament" in the wide sense of the word -- instrument or means of grace -- is as such related to her as a wayfarer. This is true in the first place of her sacraments properly speaking, but also of her dogmatic formulas, of her organizations, and of her ecclesiastical hierarchy which has the care of all these matters. If it were necessary to point out a type or a personification of the Church here, it would not be the Virgin Mary but rather the Apostle Peter. But this would be to consider 3Sermo 362, 7 (Patrologia Latina, 39, 1615). 4St. Thomas, In I Sent., d. 16, q. 1, a. 2, ad 4; Summa Theologiae, 3, 27, 5, ad 3; Albert the Great, In IV Sent., d. 19, a. 7; Charles Journet, L'Eglise du Verbe incarnd, 2 (Paris, 1951), 422; 441; 456, note 2. ~This striking expression is from L. Bouyer, Le culte de la M~re de Dieu (Chevetogne, 1950), 33; Le trSne de la sagesse (Paris, 1957), 188. See also O. Semmelroth, Die Kirche als Ursakrament (Frankfort, 1951), 176-85. A beautifu] and rich meditation on the theme of Mary as perfect spiritual type of the Church is to be found in H. Rahner, Marie et ~'Eglise (Paris, 1955). 17 YvEs M.-J. CONGAR Review [or Religious only one part of the reality, to reduce the power of the Church as means of grace or of sanctification to "institutions" alone. But as a matter of fact the whole life of the Church in time is a means of grace tending to produce that interior fruit of holiness which will always remain. Still, if the distinction which we have proposed is valid -- it is a classical one -- it is very necessary to guard against pushing it to the point of separation or disjunction. The Church in the concrete, the existential Church on earth is at the same time both means of sanctification and sanctity. In terms of the image used above, we should say that she is at the same time the building and the construction works by which she is built; or, using another image, she is the ear of wheat, full of the grain of which the host will be made, and at the same time the root and stem necessary to bear and nourish the wheat until the harvest time. This is why in the Church holiness and means of sanctification interpenetrate. The sacraments are holy; but also the reality of the interior holiness of the members is a powerful means of leading other members and the whole body either to conversion or to greater holiness. There is a spiritual mothering of holiness, or, if holiness seems too broad, of the life of faith, of prayer, and of charity; and perhaps this mothering is too little studied, theoretically undervalued in the Church, even though it is extremely real, a factor of everyday life. We shall return to this point later. It would also be inexact to make a complete separation be-tween holiness and visibility. Holiness manifests itself. It is even a "note" of the Church, that is to say a mark which "notifies" and permits the true Church to be recognized. As instigator and end of all the visible works of the Church, terminus and interior direction of all the instrumentality of grace, intimate soul of all the historical life of the Church, holiness gathers all of these func-tions together to constitute that sign of the Kingdom of God which the Church must be for the world. During His earthly life, Jesus made men sensible of the approach of the Kingdom of God and unveiled something of its proper mystery by "signs" just as He opened up the ways of the Good News in parables. After the Ascension of the Lord, it is the Church which by the grace of Pentecost is the sign for the world. But the different manifesta-tions of her historical life are signs of the Kingdom of God, signs of the charity of Christ, only because they incorporate and radiate holiness. Otherwise they might be signs of power, of legal right, even of greatness; they would not be signs of the Kingdom of God 18 January, 1960 THEOLOGY OF RELIGIOUS WOMEN and of the charity of Christ. They would not draw the world to the faith. Basic Notions: Religious Life The Church is a body which is organic, organized, and.there-fore composed of different elements. She embraces the infinity of individual differences which are the foundation of the gifts, altogether interior ~and spiritual or exterior and public, of each one: what a variety among men, what a variety in the world of the saints! All this is the rainbow of grace. But there are also larger differences in the Church, delimited categories, groups charac-terized by a particular social structure, even constituted as such by law. These are those major differences of condition which affect Christian life in that profound and permanent as well as public and manifest way by reason of which one may speak of them as states. Christian antiquity and the Middle Ages used the expression orders for any group, and the encyc.lical Mystici corporis of June 29, 1943, reintroduced this idea into its broad theology of the Church as the Body of Christ. Once more it speaks, for example, of the "order of the laity.''~ The fathers spoke of the order of preachers or of prelates, the order of clerics, of monks, of virgins, of the continent, of widows, of deaconesses, of married people. If we consider only the most general divisions of states in the Church, we find ourselves faced with a double distinction, that between clerics and the laity, and another between seculars and regulars or religious (see below, note 50). If we recall what was said above about the Church, we will be able to relate the first distinction more to that ~aspect according to which the Church is means of sanctification, since this difference is between the simple members of the people of God and those members who are destined to exercise some sacred function and are endowed with powers appropriate to the prac.tical application of the means of grace. The second distinction pertains more to the aspect of the Church according to which she is a mystery of holiness; for the "state of perfection," even though it is a means of sanctification, is nor-mally an approach towards a more perfect life in Christ. In both cases, the state ~or particular ecclesiastical position of the cleric and of the regular is a deprivation of the greater liberty legiti-mately given those in the world in view of their conditio.n of life and .activity in the world; the purpose of this deprivation is the better service of God, whether this be more on the plane of per- SActa Apostolicae Sedis, 35 [1943), 200-01. 19 YVES M.-J. CONGAR Review for Religious sonal spiritual life (religious life) or more on the plane of admin-istering the Church's means of sanctification (clerical, priestly state). It would be superfluous to spend time here defining religious life. Let us recall merely the simple and vigorous manner in which St. Thomas Aquinas characterized it in relation to the Christian life of the simple faithful.7 Each member of the faithful is com-mitted by his baptism, to renounce sin as well as Satan and his temptations. By religious profession, a Christian man or woman commits himself to renounce the world as the context of his life in order to belong more entirely, more definitively to God and to His work; for the world is an ambiguous milieu to live in; it is full of occasions of evil; it is engrossing, distracting, and filled with demands which hinder one from belonging to God completely and of temptations which turn one away from Him. This is why it is essential to the religious life, not only to detach oneself from the earthly and to consecrate oneself to God by vows, but through the rule to separate oneself from the conditions of life in the world. A point of view less individual and more ecclesiological might present the same realities in the following way.s The difference between religious and the simple faithful need not be viewed as a difference between the consecrated and the non-consecrated. This opposition exists, of course; but it should be located between the Church and the world, between the people of God and those who are not, between Christians and non-Christians (see 1 Pet 2:10). In the people of God as such, in the Body of Christ, all is sacred. The faithful are consecrated; their whole life as Christians, in so far as it is Christian, is sacred, not profane. All that religious can ambition is to be more consistently, more integrally Christian, and to embrace more perfect means toward this end." Laymen, or the ordinary faithful, live in the world. It is their precise charac-teristic to serve God in the way that is determined by their natural mission into the world.~° But the world is something other than 7Contra impugnantes religionem, c. 1. 8We employ here a suggestion of R. Carpentier, S.J. in his Life in the City o[ God: An Introduction to the Religious Life (New York, 1959). Compare the same author's "Les instituts s~culiers," Nouvelle Revue Thdologique, 77 (1955), 408-12, in particular, 409, 411. ~Since Dom G. Morin's L'iddal monastique et la vie chrdtienne des premiers jours (Maredsous, 1912), it is better known that religious life is merely the Christian life more fully expressed. 1°There is more and more agreement on this positive and theological definition of the lay state: Y. M.-J. Congar, "Qu'est-ce qu'un laic?" Suppld-ment de la Vie Spirituelle, 1950, 363-92; this article is the first chapter in the same author's Lay People in the Church Westminster, 1957). See also K. 2O January, 1960 THEOLOGY OF RELIGIOUS WOMEN the Church. If the Church has its inner consistency and its proper demands, the world has too, Even prescinding from the ambiguity inherent in the enterprises of men and in the tendency toward sin which adheres to the tissue of the world, it is still necessary to render to Caesar the things that are Caesar's. For this reason even those laymen who seek only to love and serve God, whose personal lives are surrendered to God, and whose hearts are wholly intent upon Him find it difficult to exert themselves and to carve out their way in that world, a world which is not surrendered to God. "And he is divided" (1 Cor 7:33-34). The life of the Christian in the world is, unhappily, a divided one. The religious is the Christian who, in the desire to belong totally and irrevocably to God,~ leaves the world and enters a life built up and organized for the service of God, something which the world is not. The religious life in so far as it is a social frame-work for living is actually a creation of the Church for the pur-poses of the Church -- the service of God, Throughout the len.gth of her history.the Church has striven to achieve through religious life that which she tried to do as soon as she entered the world" by the grace of Pentecost; it was something that had been tried' be-fore her, for example in the monasticism of the Essenes on the shores of the Dead Sea. Her aim has been to constitute a way of life which responds perfectly, even as a social or juridical structure, to the communal and fraternal demands of the Gospel and which allows one to be at the exclusive service of God. In fact, through-out the whole history of the religious life one finds references back to the tentative attempt at communal living in the primitive Church at Jerusalem.~- Moreover, it is by expressl.y referring to Rahner, "L'apostolat des la~cs" in Nouvelle Revue Thdologique, 78 (1956), 3-32; a digest of this article may be found in Theology Digest, 5 (1957-58), 73-79. ~St. Thomas: "So that he may not turn back" (Summa Theologiae, 2-2, 186, 6, ad 1; see also Contra Gentiles, 3, 131). l~See Acts 2:44 and 4:32. Some references on this point are: F~r St. Pach-omius see L.Th. Lefort, Les vies coptes de saint Pach6me et de ses premiers successeurs [Louvain, 1943), 3, 30, and 65, 25; for St. Basil, see his Regulae brevius tractatae, int. 148, 187 (Patrologia Graeca, 31, 1180 and 1208) as well as his Regulae [usius tractatae, int. 7 (Patrologia Graeca, 31, 933); for St. Augustine see his En~arrationes in Psalmos, 132, 2 (Patrologia Latina, 37, 1729 ff.), his Sermo 355 and 356 De vita et moribus clericorurn suorum ( Patrologia Latina, 39, 1568 ff.), his De opere monachorum (C.S.E.L., 41, 529 ft.), his Regula (see below, note 21), and A. Zumkeller's Das M6nchtum des hl. Augus-tinus (Wiirzburg, 1950), 129 ft.; for St. Ambrose Autpert, see his In Cant. (Bibl. Max. Patrum, 13, 442); for St. Odo of Cluny, see his Occupatio 6 (Patrologia Latina, 133, 572) and J. Leclercq's "L'id~al monastique de saint Odon d'apr~s ses oeuvres," in A Cluny. Congrbs scientifique, 1949, 227 ff.; for St. Peter Damian, see his Opusculum 24, Contra clericos regulares proprietarios (Patrologia Latina, 145, 482-90). From the time of the reform 21 YvEs M.-J. CONGAR Review [or Religious this historical archetype that all reforms, all renewals of the religious life have been carried out. The "type" of Jerusalem, the City of Peace, the city "where all together make one body" (Ps 122:3), the place of God's habitation, has always been, for the various institutes of religious life, a kind of ideal, or "myth" in $orel's sense of the word. The religious life is a kind of earthly anticipation of the City of God. The chief forms of the religious life derive, even in those things which differentiate them, from the following principle com-mon to all: The religious life is a total consecration which is carridd out on the social level and publicly approved by the Church and which aims at the pursuit of the perfection of charity on the basis of a renouncement of that which hinders this totality, and this renouncement is made in such a way as to close to oneself the possibility of turning back. Within the bounds of this essential principle common to all, religious institutes differ from one another according to that pre-. eminent work of charity to which each one specifically devotes itself. A first overall distinction arises, for this reason, between institutes vowed to the service of the love of God alone, in Him-self, and immediately -- the contemplative life, monasticism, the eremetical life -- and institutes vowed to the service of the love of God in the exterior exercise of love and of service to the neigh-bor -- institutes specifically vowed to the works of mercy, corporal (hospitals), or spiritual (teaching), or the two together (the greater part of the missionary congregations).13 Contemplatives or monks also contribute to the salvation of the world, but only from above and in the context of the mystery of the Communion of Saints, from which comes in its secret forms that spiritual maternity which we have already mentioned and to which we shall return. From the point of view of effective activity they seem to leave the world to its damnation.Nevertheless, this is a historical fact: it is the monks who have made Christianity; of the llth and 12th centuries the references 'to Acts increase; see the studies of Ch. Dereine and others. See also J. Leclercq, La vie parfaite (Turnhout, 1948), 82-108. M.-D. Chenu, La thdologie au xii'~ si~cle (Paris, 1957), 227 ff. 13As is well known there exists a third category, that of the apostolic life, which is sometimes given the strange and little justified name of the "mixed life." In this life the superexcellent work of charity is identical with that of that agape which implies service, self-giving, apostolate, mission. It implies living in the light of faith and love to the extent of communicating them to others by means of the apostolate. But this apostolic life is almost exclusively reserved to men; and in its fullness it demands the priesthood of the Gospels. 22 January, 1960 THEOLOGY OF RELIGIOUS WOMEN monasticism has been --it is still, it will continue to be in the future -- preeminently the educator who teaches men not only what it is to be a Christian, but also what it is.to be human. In this way it has been the creator of much that is beautiful. It is impossible to accept grace without its showing its healing power, impossible to seek first the Kingdom of God without all these other things being added on besides (Mt 6:33; Lk 12:31). Religious devoted to the works of mercy enter into the torrent of the world to perform the work of rescue. They participate more strictly than the monks in that which in the Church is not only repose in God but also anxiety for and with men; they participate in the Church not only as a harbor of grace and the inn of the good Samaritan, but as an effective rescue service with the difficult commitment to heal the wounded on a road infested with robbers. In the duality of the Church and of the world, the monks represent essentially the distinction or opposition of the two. The Church is not of the world; and in her monks she says to it: "Do not touch me!" But the duality of the Church and of the world is not only distinction and opposition, it is also a kind of coupling; it implies a dialectical and dramatic point of contact. Not only do the Church and the world coexist in the time between Eden and the Kingdom, they exist in a certain way one with the other and one for the other. The world is, for the Church, not only~ the quarry from which she gets her stones, but also a necessary partner in a dialogue, or better, a sort of separated partner, who opposes and tests her, but with whom she must remain joined in order to try to save it. The Church is different from the world, she is grace and salvation. But in the interim between Easter and the second coming, which is her time of wayfaring and of labor, she is joined to the world as the good Samaritan was to his wounded stranger while he lifted him up and carried him, or as a lifeguard is joined to the drowning person whom he attempts to bring to the shore.~ Basic Notions: The Role of Woman in the Church One can scarcely speak of the laws of God's work, for he would thus risk giving the meaning that rules are imposed upon God extrinsically and as necessities. But one may speak of con-stants which the work itself reveals to us. And one of these constants seems to be procedure by pairs or complementary polarities. The study of tradition throughout Scripture, the fathers, and ancient ~On this point read G. Bernanos, La libertd, pourquoi faire? (Paris, 1953), 267-69; and see H. Urs yon Balthasar, Le chr~tien Bernanos (Paris, 1956), 217. 23 YVES M~-J. CONGAR Review for Religious texts and records, has convinced us more and more that this idea has played a very great role in Christian thought and institutions.~5 Among these unified dualities or complementary polarities, the first is without doubt the division of humanity into man and woman. It reappears in the Church, with the reservation that will be noted later. It is the reason that today's relatively numerous studies of "the second sex" have their counterparts, frequently stimulating ones, in Christian publications which attempt to de-termine the particular role and assets of women and hence of religious women in the Church.~ This role and these assets are connected with these larger values: a) Woman stands for receiving, welcoming, consenting; she is the "spiritual vessel." To speak of passivity would be not quite exact; receptivity is vital and active. Recall the "fiat" of the Virgin Mary, the prototype of acceptance and of the faithfulness of the Church before the God who comes, calls, asks. b) It is also said of the Virgin that "she kept all things in her heart." Man has the initiative in producing life. Woman creates for it a milieu that is intimate and warm, a home. In the home she embodies that humble faithfulness which conserves, waits, wel-comes. Man is devoted to the risks of conflict on the outside; he is the victim of its aggression; he suffers change. But thanks to his wife he has a home where he can recover intact his better self, his inner self: the freshness and poetry of love, the faithfulness to memory and to conscience, the delicacy of attention and of care.'7 Man is specialized by work and by action. Woman is nearer 15The following examples have been chosen at random and hurriedly; nevertheless the meaning and the relationships of this theme of "pairs" were a matter of profound experience in the consciousness and texts of the ancients; they will be understood better if one keeps in mind the duality in unity which is at the basis of all the examples: Man and woman, soul and body, the two sides of the body (two eyes, two hands, etc.), sky and earth, sun and moon (the "two luminaries"), the two powers, pope and emperor, the two witnesses Peter and Paul, Moses and Elias, law and grace, the Church of the Jews and the Church of the Gentiles, head and body, Scripture and tradition, baptism and confirmation [Christ and the Holy ~pirit), com-munion under two species, the two columns of the temple of Jerusalem, the two cherubim of the Ark, etc. ~6For studies by Catholics see Gertrud von Lefort, Die ewige Frau ~Munich, 1935); Maura BSckeler, Das grosse Zeichen. Die Frau als Symbol g6ttlicher Wirklichkeit (Salzburg, 1941); D'Eve tt Marie, ou le destin de la Femme in L'Anneau d'or, 1954; F.J.J. Buytendijk, La femme, ses modes d'etre, de paratt)'e et d'exister (Paris, 1957). A Protestant study is Ch. von Kirschbaum's Die wirkliche Frau (Zurich, 1949). A Greek Orthodox study is: Paul Evdo-kimov, La femme et le salut du monde. Etude d'anthropologie chrdtient~e sur les charismes de la [emme (Paris, 1958). ~TThis role of woman is well illustrated in novels such as the following: Sigrid Undset, Kristin Lavransdatter: Elizabeth Goudge, Green Dolphin Street; A. J. Cronin, Th~ Citadel. See also Alice Oll~-Laprune, Liens immortels. 24 January, 1960 THEOLOGY OF RELIGIOUS WOMEN to the sources of life and of elementary realities, more humbly given over to daily occupations. She has also an instinctive sensi-bility which allows her to grasp things in a more concrete, simpler, more comprehensive fashion, to see things as wholes. She gives herself more simply, and perhaps more irrevocably, in committing herself more thoroughly and totally to these things. In this total commitment of woman there is a value attested to by experience which is expressed remarkably well in the con-secration of religious women. This consecration, for the faithful and even for the priesthood, stands as a kind of oasis, a reserve storehouse of the simple life, of total, unsophisticated faith; it stands for homesteads of inviolate faithfulness softened by a gentle delicacy. There are here, along with a beehive's thrifty efficiency, treasure houses of devotedness and all the strength of an abnegation that is without ambition or defense. We will not delay on this longer because we are not sure that this precisely feminine element is so very important in the religious life. The religious life would represent in the Church rather that condition in which woman becomes most active,, closest to assum-ing initiatives and activities comparable to those of men. So she proclaims in a special way a superiority over the differences of sex and over the other conditions which divide man in his "life in Christ.''~8 If femininity exists at this level, it is that of the whole Church who is, according to patristic tradition and its develop-ment of the indications of Scripture, the New Eve beside the New Adam, Christ. That which, in the Church, represents Christ as Master, Spouse, and Father, is not the male religious institute; it is the episcopacy and the priesthood. It is easy to relate these facts to that which was said above about the two aspects of the Church: that of goal or of holiness, alongside which religious life has its special place, and that of means, alongside which the dis-tinction between priests and simple faithful has its place. The Role of Religious Woman in the Church The religious life is, in the Church, the highest approximation of the City of God. It is, in the sphere of collective realities, that portion which is nearest to being the fruit of lasting holiness (reality), that which most closely pertains to the Church as "Com-reunion of Saints" and eschatological reality. This is what we shall consider first in itself and then in its inherent value as a sign. ~sSee Gal 3:28; Col 3:11. 25 YVES M.-J. CONGAR Review for Religious Religious life is first of all for God. It exists in the Church first of all as an area reserved for God. It represents the first fruits and their special worth as tokens of homage and as free gifts. Sometimes, in a corner of the countryside withdrawn from the traffic of men one finds a religious house which, humanly speaking, vegetates. But when one has become a regular visitor to such a community, one discovers that it is accomplishing an onerous duty of praise or of intercession, far from the notice or even the knowl-edge of men. "To what purpose is this waste?" ~Mt 26:8; Mk 14:4) It is the song of the bride meant only for her spouse; it is that part of the Church seen and known to God alone, to the Father "who sees in secret" (Mt 6:4; 6:18). Above and beyond all its external usefulness and all i~s ordination to extrinsic things, religious life remains a realization of the mystery of the Church or of the mystical body. It is im-possible to'emphasize this too much: before one can cooperate in the building up of the outside of the Church which is for others, it is necessary that it be built up within. A religious community is a cell of the Church; better, it is a Church in miniature.'9 It gives flesh to the mystery of the Church. The Rule of St. Augustine begins with these words, whose fulness of meaning and even whose technical validity arise out of the great Augustinian synthesis on the sacrifice of the "City redeemed as one":2° "A primary purpose for which you are gathered together in one community is that you live in the monastery with unanimity, having but one mind and one heart in the service of God.''~' Members join together in re-ligious life first of all to live the life of charity, to give reality to fraternal union according to the spirit of the Gospel. We cannot meditate too much on this truth, without which our communities will be nothing but a lie and a scandal.'-'~ The great lawgivers of ~On this theme see the valuable study of Dom Emmanuel yon Severus, "Das MSnchtum als Kirche," in Enkainia, ed. by H. Emonds (Dusseldorf, 1956), 230-48; also A. deVogu~, "Le monast~re, Eglise du Christ," in Studia Anselmiana, 42 (Rome, 1957), 25-46. ~'See De Civitate Dei, X, cc. 5 and 6. ~Patrologia Latina, 32, 1738. ~To stimulate reflection on this matter, I permit myself to cite here the two following texts which are hateful and terrible, but important: "Monks are people who bunch together without knowing each other, live together without loving each other, and die without regretting each other." ~Voltaire, L'homme aux quarante ~cus, VIII, Oeuvres completes, xxxiv, Paris, 1829, 60). "The love of God serves them as an excuse to love no one; they do not even love one another. Has anyone ever observed rea] friendship among the devout? But the more they detach themselves from men, the more they demand of men; and one could say that they do not raise themselves to God except to exercise his authority on the earth." (J.-J. Rousseau, Nouve~le Hdloise 6th Part, Letter 8). 26 January, 1960 THEOLOGY OF RELIGIOUS WOMEN the cenobitic life, St. Pachomius and St. Basil, expressly defended the primacy of this life over the anchoritic life on the basis of the fraternal charity and mutual edification (one of the great values in the Gospels) for which it gives the opportunity.~'~ One of the essential articles of the religious life is the achievement of a true fraternal relationship, the condition, complement, and fruit of a true relationship with God. If the Christian is an eschatological man because he is a fellow citizen with the saints, a member of the house of God (Eph 2:19), the monk is all the more truly a Christian. "But our citizenship is in heaven.''24 This is :said and it is true of all the people of God, for they are a people in exile journeying towards their fatherland. We have already received the pledge of the Spirit, the first fruits of our inheritance,2'' but only the pledge and the first fruits. We still live here below subject to the slavery of the flesh and the oppression of the devil, whom our Savior ~calls "the .Prince of this world"; all creation, subject to vanity, groans in the labor of its childbirth hoping for the glorious liberty of the children of God (Rm 8:19-23). The citizens of the heavenly city are, in this life, in the situa-tion of a people occupied by an enemy power. There are those who adjust themselves to it, there are even those who compromise and "collaborate." There are many who do not accept the enemy power, and in the midst of external conditions of servitude, they assert as far as they can their loyalty to their homeland. But some go farther and resist. They escape to the outskirts. There at least they advance With great labor the hour of liberation, they live already a life of liberty and they prepare for everyone the coming of the liberator. If the Church is like the outskirts of the world,'-'~ religious life is so in a more decided way. Religious have left their homes, their parents, their fields, the comforts of normal life, to be unburdened, free to serve the King of the Heavens. They are, by a more meaningful title, the first fruits of the new creation.~7 ~:~See H. Leclercq, "C~nobitisme," in Dictionnaire d'archdologie chrdtienne, II, 2, 3047-3248; 3093 is concerned with Saint Pachomius and 3149-50 with Saint Basil. See also Vie de Pach6me, cc. 3 and 4 in R. Draguet's Les P~res du ddsert (Paris, 1949), 90 ff., and Saint Basil, Regulae fusius tractatae, cc. 7 and 25-31 (Patrologia Graeca, 31,928 and 984 ft'.) and his Letter 295 (Patro-logia Graeca, 32, 1037). See also 0. Rousseau, Monachisme et vie religieuse d'apr~s l'ancienne tradition de l'Eglise (Chevetogne, 1957), 80 ff. 24Phil 3:20; Heb 11:13-16. ~SSee 2 Cor 1:12; Rom 8:1-30; Eph 1:14o ~See Yves M. J. Congar, Lay People in the Church (Westminster, 1957), 101. ~TSee Apoc 14:4, "the first fruits for God and for the Lamb." This idea of 27 YVES M.-J. COUGAR Review for Religious Each religious profession is like a guerilla victory by which the power of the occupying forces is checked; and without doubt Christ contemplates it with the sentiments which he expressed when the seventy-two disciples returned from their mission full of joy that the demons had given way before them: "I was watching Satan fall as lightning from heaven" (Lk 10:18). This idea of the religious life as an eschatological life~8 is fre-quently expressed in monastic tradition by the theme of the angelic life.2~ It is a perfectly valid theme. Whether one actually looks at the religious life under the aspect of virginity or under that of the spiritual marriage, which is fundamentally the same thing, or under the aspect of the perpetual praise of God (see in particular E: Peterson), or under that of the anticipation as far as possible of heavenly life, life in the presence of God, and even if one looks at this life in the details of asceticism such as vigils or fasting -- under all these aspects of religious life the theme of the angelic life is authentic, and we wish in no way to exclude it. We are convinced,, nevertheless, that certain expressions can be very dangerous and ought to be criticized in the name of biblical and Christian truth2° Historically these expressions have been somewhat distorted by influences coming from two areas: first, the assumption, without~ a critical attitude sufficiently inspired by the biblical point of view, of certain Platonic and Pythagorean ideas, in particular the idea that man consists of a soul, that the body is a tomb (a~/~a-~l/~a) from which one should free himself as much as possible with the result that perfection is made to consist in the contemplation (Oe¢op;~) of eternal, transcendent truths; second, the development of a wholly speculative theory concerning Adam and the state of paradise. We know how St. Gregory of Nyssa, for example, transposed, the final liberation from the oppo-the first fruits is especially emphasized by Dom Emmanuel von Severus, "Zu den bibiischen Grundlagen des MSnchtums," in Geist und Leben, 26 (1953), 113-22'; see also the same periodical, 27 (1954), 414 ff. -°SThis idea is developed in D. Thalhammer, S.J., Jenseitige Menschen. Eine Deutung des Ordensstandes, 2nd ed. (Freiburg, 1952); in J. Leclercq, La vie parfaite (Turnhout, 1948); in L. Bouyer, The Meaning of the Monastic Life (New York, 1955); and in O. Rousseau, op. cir. (footnote 23). ~Wexts on this are innumerable. The principal ones can be found in the works listed in the preceding note, to which the following may be added: E. Peterson, Le livre des anges (Paris, 1954); A. Lamy, "Bios angelikos," in Dieu vivant, n. 7 (1946), 59-77; J. C. Didier, " 'Angdlisme' ou perspectives eschatologiques?" in M~langes de science retigieuse, 11 (1954), 31-48; U. Ranke-Heinemann, "Zum Ideal der vita angelica im fr~ihen MSnchtum," in Geist und Leben, 29 (1956), 347-57; Emmanuel yon Severus, "Bios aggetikos," in Die Engel in der Welt yon heute, 1957, 56-70. 3°I hope to treat this problem later and on a larger scale with the needed precisions and justifications. 28 January, 1960 THEOLOGY OF RELIGIOUS WOMEN sition of the sexes (above, note 18) into the creative intention and held that sex had been a ~stranger to the nature of man as God had, or would have conceived of him, if He had not known ia advance that man would sin.'~ The result of this double influence, with which other factors certainly have concurred, has been not so much perhaps to give an orientation toward the recovery of a lost state of perfection, which is an eschatological expectation present in the New Testament; it has been rather to superimpose on (and perhaps to substitute for) the duality between this world and the other which is to come as the fruit of Christ's Passover, a duality between this earthly, bodily world and a celestial, in-corporeal world which is to be imitated as closely as. possible. But is the Christian ideal to be found in the condescension of God who for love entered human history as a suffering servant? Or is it instead an angelic perfection, situated in an ideal world of the spirit toward which the soul must elevate itself by certain degrees of ascension and sublimation thereby withdrawing itself progres-sively from the sensible world? We may well fear lest spirituality seek its place between heaven and earth and turn away from the history of the world and the commitment to be a savior to men's miseries, meanwhile adjusting itself to a theocracy in which the idea of subordination of body to soul ambiguously expresses itself as a basically political program of subjection of the "temporal" to the "spiritual." We find something of this, it seems, in the history of Citeaux at the height of its prosperity. At that very time the "They will be like the angels" (Lk 20:36; Mt 22:30) is transposed from eschatology to the condition of monks on the earth, something which had been completely avoided, for example, by St. Augustine2: But, on the other hand, for St. Bernard, the mysticism of that angelic life which can bear such doubtful fruits as we have just mentioned is balanced by an ardent mysticism of Christ in his humanity and of the imitation of Christ. What is important is to see, as St. Therese of Lisieux very brilliantly saw it and acted on it,'~'~ that the perfection of love con- 3*See De opificio hominis, cc. 16-17 (Patrologia Graeca, 46, 181 and 188-92). On the very subtle thought of Gregory see the Introduction of P. J. Laplace to La crdation de l'homme [Paris, 1943). St. Thomas criticizes this position in Summa Theologiae, 1, 98, 2. 3~See "Eglise et Cit~ de Dieu chez quelques auteurs cisterciens h l'~poque des Croisades," in Mdlanges Etienne Gilson [Paris, 1959) and "Henri de Marcy, abb~ de Clairvaux, cardinal-dv~que d'Albano et l~gat pontifical," in Analecta Monastica, 5 (Rome, 1958). 33See the studies of A. Combes [for example, his Saint Therese and Her Mission INew York, 1955]) and Ft. Heer, "Die Heilige des Atomzeitalters," in Sprechen wir yon der Wirklichkeit (Nuremberg, 1955), 177 ft. From the 29 YVES M.-J. CONGAR Review for Religious sists essentially not in the ascending movements of an increasing spiritualization, but in a descent by the paths and the steps of humble service to the point of emptying oneselfi34 One must come to the cross where the salvation of the world is worked out and where, by losing ourselves, we work out our own salvation also. This is scriptural and it is Christian, more .scriptural and more Christian than the theme of the angelic life, traditional and valid though it may be under the conditions which have just been detailed. This angelic theme is a monastic theme. Many modern con-gregations, as they are called, have little or no contact with the great sources of monastic spirituality. They are not, for all that, safe from missteps analogous to those which the theme of the angelic life risks causing. The spirituality proposed in these con-gregations, in so far as it is legitimate to reduce it to a common denominator, is largely inspired by Jesuit authors (Rodriguez) and by the spirituality of the French school, the great French moralists and preachers of the "Great Century." But these sources, valuable certainly and even powerful as inspirers of the true Christian life, seem to bear the mark of the two following influences: first, a certain stoic influence, of which Guillaume du Vair would be a particularly representative example35 (we do not mention him for any other reason and certainly not as one of the sources). This stoic influence, diffuse as it may be, is not negligible. Many mod-ern spiritual programs depend rather largely on Christian stoicism. Second: even the great spiritual men of the French school betray the orientation of the moralist, an insistence on those themes which aim to make man conscious of his baseness and his malice, an insistence on the theme of original sin and its consequences, on the wickedness of the world and of all its aims2~ It seems that this is far from the theme of the angelic life; but the two rejoin in certain eventual consequences. There are fruitful considerations in literary viewpoint see von Balthasar, Le chr~tien Bernanos, pp. 156, 160-61, 264 ff., 457-77, 484. '~4Phil 2:7. ~See F. Strowski, Histoire du sentiment religieux en France au xvii" si~cle, I (Paris, 1910), 18-125; and P. Mesnard, "Du Vair et le N6o-stoicisme," in Revue d'histoire de la philosophie, April, 1928, 142-66. Du Vair begins from original sin and the feelings of penance to arrive at a "life in God" by passing through the practice of the cardinal virtues. ~"Some remarks concerning the influence of this spirituality on the con-gregations of teaching religious may be found in J. G. Lawler, The Christian Imagination: Studies in Religious Thought (Westminster, 1955), 38 ft. It is also necessary here to refer to the Imitation of Christ with its moralistic and individualistic perspective of the opposition between the movements of grace and the movements of nature. 3O January, 1960 THEOLOGY OF RELIGIOUS WOMEN all these areas, but scriptural monotheism implies another set of values, more thoroughly oriented toward life, toward history, toward the cosmic theme of salvation. The religious life, and more especially the religious life of women, realizes with a particular intensity and purity the voca-tion of the Church to be the Virgin Spouse of the Lord and thus to become spiritually a mother. The application to the Church of these three inseparable themes: virgin, spouse, mother, whose biblical sources are not only abundant, but situated at the heart of the economy of salvation, is frequent in Christian tradition27 To wish to compare them with themes more or less verbally analogous which have been gathered from the history of religions would be to close one's mind to this. Pagan religions are nature religions which transfer to so-called transcendent persons the relationships and needs of men. They sexualise the divinity. The God of biblical revelation is in no way sexualised; He is the living God who unites men to Himself by faith. The whole relationship of alliance and of union which He establishes with man consists in the spiritual relation of faith, and faith includes a total gift, and therefore is not fully realized except by love: "I will espouse thee to me for-ever: and I will espouse thee to me in justice and judgment and in mercy and in commiserations. And I will espouse thee to me in faith" (Hos 2:19-20). That which creates between God and our-selves, between the Church and God, a marital relation is nothing other than this completely spiritual communication in faith. But this communication supposes in us the sole response of a total giving, of receptivity to the coming of God: "Behold the handmaid of the Lord, be it done to me according to thy word." So faith is the point of contact for an exchange of fidelity. "I will be your God and you will be my people." And therefore it is a point at which a relation of alliance is achieved, a marital union which is at the same time altogether virginal. It is altogether virginal be-cause the union is spiritual. It consists in nothing else than fidelity itself and is preserved by maintaining this fidelity, that is to say, by its very chastity. It is altogether virginal also because in this relationship of faith nothing which comes from the outside or from ~TThe bibliography is abundant; we will cite only the following: S. Tromp, "Ecclesia Sponsa, Virgo, Mater," in Gregorianum, 18 (1937), 3-29; O. Casel, "Die Kirche als Braut Christi nach Schrift, V~itern, und Liturgie," in The-ologie der Zeit, 1936, 91-111; CI. Chavasse, The Bride o] Christ: An Enquiry into the Nuptial Element in Early Christianity (London, 1940); J. C. Plumpe, Mater Ecclesia: An Inquiry into the Concept of the Church as Mother in Early Christianity (Washington, 1943); AI. Mfiller, Ecclesia-Maria: Die Einheit Marias und der Kirche (Fribourg, 1951); H. Rahner as cited above, n. 5. 31 YVES M.-J. CONGAR Review for Religious that which is lower enters in, nothing which breaks or mars its integrity. There is nothing of earthly eros here. Motherhood or fruitfulness comes to this virginal and marital union as its fulfillment. The fathers say and repeat that the Church (or the soul) becomes a virgin spouse by faith, and that she also becomes a mother by faith: virgin spouse by believing, mother by communicating the faith, by engendering men in faith. Again, the relationship is altogether spiritual. It consists in faith and this is why it is superior to every kind of carnal kinship2s Precisely because of this, the vocation of the Church to be both virginal spouse and virginal mother is achieved in all the members in proportion to their fervor. For, according to a theme equally familiar to the fathers and to spiritual authors, every soul is the Church. Nevertheless in so far as God is not fully "all in all" (1 Cor 15:28), the difference between man and woman exists not only as a reality of the world, but projects itself and intervenes in a certain manner in the body of Christ which is the Church. So there exist certain differences in the manner in which men and women exercise the spiritual motherhood of the Church. The priesthood, since it is a position of external authority, is reserved to the man. But this relates to the Church under her aspect as means of grace, and therefore does not touch the religious life. as such. In its external activity a religious institute can just as well exercise apostolic functions which also relate to the Church as means of grace and represent an explicit cooperation with the action of the hierarchy where the motherhood of the Church is achieved. But the religious life as such, the religious life purely and simply, belongs rather to the Church as eschatological realiza-tion of holiness. This devotes it to being the locus of a very pure and altogether spiritual realization of the twofold relationship of virginal marriage and of motherhood. All this is particularly true in the life of women religious be-cause woman is more a being of receptivity and of self-giving: because when she gives herself, and above all whe~ she gives her-self in the integrity of her heart and of her body, she gives herself in a more intense way, a more complete and irrevocable way than man; because having fewer exterior activities and acting less out of duty and more from her heart, she makes good with her fervor that which would have been lost to her in action. For all these ~Read in this sense Mt 12:48-50 (=Mk 3:33-35; Lk 8:21); Lk 11:28. In .the same way St. Paul calls those his brothers of whom he says that he has engendered them and is their father. See above, n. 18. 32 January, 1960 THEOLOGY OF RELIGIOUS WOMEN reasons religious women, consecrated virgins, play a choice role in the mystery of the Church as virgin spouse of the Lord. They play also their wonderful part in the Church's spiritual motherhood. It is extremely remarkable that this doctrine was recalled to us in a very striking way precisely in a religious woman, Therese of the Child Jesus, who having entered Carmel at the age of sixteen, having died at twenty-four, and having remained unknown by the world during her life, has become not only officially but really the patroness of all Catholic missions2'~ She became all this and remains all this solely in the order of the Communion of Saints. According to St. Augustine, it is pre-cisely the Church as a union of love and a communion of saints which exercises spiritual motherhood.4° And so without exterior activity we can in our prayer and in our laborious efforts at con-version (our penances) include intentions for other men and for all the world's miserable; and we can bear them in the womb of love which is the Church's heart of prayer and charity. It is a part of tradition also that in the Church the strong support the weak (there is no question at all here of any other strength than that which comes from God in faith). This spiritual motherhood is a very profound characteristic of the Church: we believe in the Com-munion of Saints. But experience comes frequently to the aid of our weakness of faith. Who has not appealed to this strength? Who would not be able to bear witness to its reality? The Role of the Religious Woman in the Church as a Sign St. Paul says, "We have been made a spectacle to the world, and to angels, and to men" (1 Cor 4:9). The Church gives a visible body to spiritual gifts. So, for example, the gift of unity in Christ which has been given her becomes the "note" of unity; and that of sanctification by the Holy Spirit, the "note" of holiness. Of all these notes that of holiness is the most insistent; it is'the most efficacious also as a witness to men that the Kingdom of God draws near and calls them. It is also the most directly meaningful note because from the fact of holiness to the presence of God the inference is direct and within the grasp of all. And in this mani- 3~See above, n. 33. Pius XII said that contemplative institutes are "fully and completely apostolic," Sponsa Christi, November 21, 1950 (Acta Apos-tolicae Sedis, 43 [1951], 14). See also the letter to Cardinal Piazza of June 29, 1955, (Acta Apostoltcae Sedis, 47 [~9551, 543). 4°See for example De sancta virginitate, cc. 3 and 5 (Patrologia Latina, 40, 398-99); Sermo Denis, 25, 7 (edition by G. Morin, 162-63); Sermo 215, 4 (Patrologia Latina, 38, 1074). 33 YVES M.-J. CONGAR Review for Religious festation of holiness which the Church constitutes throughout the course of history, the various expressions of religious life occupy a choice place.4~ Religious communities are living parables for men of the Kingdom of God. If we begin our consideration of this by treating what is more external in religious life, its institutions appear to us first of all as the freest and most genuine expressions of the spirit of the Church on the plane of her social manifestations. We know that the Church is an original institution put into the world by God; she proceeds from spiritual energies which come from above (Mr 16:17-18). But as this divine institution is made up of men and has a historical, terrestrial existence, she projects herself and expresses herself in creations equally historical in which, nevertheless, she injects the inspiration and the mark of her own proper genius. It would not be difficult and it would be extremely interesting to show how this special genius has from the beginning inspired institutions which are essentially communal, and at the same time respectful of the person and of his liberty, and marked with the character of service. There is truly a special Christian genius at the level of social creations.~- The religious life is perhaps the most pure and most represen-tative creation of the spirit of the Church in this area of social realities. It is not in vain that she has always loved to compare herself with the model of the first community of Jerusalem. It is marvelous to see how on the collective and judicial plane religious rules and canon law have known how to translate into institutions and laws thecommands and the inspirations of the Gospel. As a result, the institutions of religious life, just as in a certain degree the canonical life of the Church herself, become a kind of preach-ing of and witnessing to the Gospel. It is no mere coincidence that it is always the same men who fail to recognize the existence of divine positive law in the world, who deny to the Church the quality of being an institution of divine law, and who misjudge, attack, and seek to thwart or sup-press religious life. One thinks of Josephinism, of Jacobinism, of our own French laicism in its virulent form. So the religious life is not only a sign of the heavenly kingdom; it is also, along with the 4XSee Cardinal Dechamps, Entretiens, in Oeuvres, I, 467 ft.; Dora Gr~a, De l'Eglise et de sa divine constitution, II (Paris, 1907), 152. Vernon Johnson was converted by the fact of Therese of Lisieux. 42Chateaubriand and even Montalembert are dated. But there are more recent and more technical studies: E. Chenon, Le rSle social de l'Eglise and the six volumes of the Carlyle brothers, A History of Mediaeval Political Theory in the West. 34 January, 1960 THEOLOGY OF RELIGIOUS WOMEN sacraments and the hierarchy, a sign of the Church as a separated order, a social and public reality placed ,in the world in virtue of the right God has to affirm and to establish his reign.43 In a world which wishes to be completely autonomous, religious life, situated at the heart of the Church's garden, presents the example of a life totally "theonomous." But it is common, it is normal, that signs should be, according to the dispositions of those to whom they are shown, a call to conversion or a sign of contradiction, a sign of opposition. They can also be, even for well-disposed men, signs which scandalize if they become sign~ that lie, or signs that are simply inadequate for their mission and their aims. There is also, in the religious life, and we think particularly of the religious life of women, a human element -- sometimes too human, sometimes not human enough! Pettiness, legalism, authoritarianism, pharisaism, the spirit of ownership, hardness of heart, lack of fraternal com-munion and failure to share human misery, taste for power, a judaic spirit in the way of considering observances, especially the least important ones, precisely those from which the Gospel has liberated us. Among the causes which brought on the death of Christianity, the betrayal of their true spirit in the last centuries of the Middle Ages by a number of monastic and religious insti-tutions has justly been noted.4~ When it is authentic, the religious life is a sign that the spiritual exists. Heaven exists, and that takes the value out of the the goods and the joys of earth. Not that they are not truly goods, truly joys, but they are so relative! For "this world as we see it is passing away" (1 Cor 7:31). The religious life proposes, without the noise of words, the message of death which the Church addresses to the world, not a sorrowful message -- who is more joyful than the religious man, if not the religious woman? -- but a serious and an important one. Again, the religious life verifies in a singular manner the essence of all Christian life, which is an Easter life, a mystery of life and of death, comprehended within the message of 4'~In this connection I recall the beautiful text of A. Lamy, "Bios angelikos," in Dieu vivant, n. 7, 76: "The function of monachism in the Church seems to be to affirm the citizenship of the Christian in the city of the angels arid to affirm his rights there by the exercise of them." Religious life is one ele-ment of the eschatological right which the Church affirms and translates into the world. On this basis it could be said that religious life is of divine right, not in its various historical forms, but in its essential principle. It flows from the transcendence of the Church with respect to the world and from the right possessed by every Christian to leave the world and to thus affirm his eschatological and spiritual royalty. ~See Fr. Heer, "L'h~ritage Europe," in Dieu vivant, n. 27 (1954), 43. 35 Yvzs M.-J. CO~AR Review for Religious Ash Wednesday, "Remember that you are dust and that you will return to dust" and that of Easter Day, "Remember that you are spirit and that you will return to the Spirit." The religious life, by its mere existence, is a witness to the world that God exists; it calls the world to the obedience of faith. On either side of the chancel which closes in the choir at the abbey of Maria Laach one may read these words of St. Paul:" "I, therefore, the prisoner in the Lord, exhort you to walk in a worthy manner" (Eph 4:1). The religious life, therefore, has its part in the great kerygmatic function of the Church, that is, in its .lifelong exercise of the mis-sion of announcing the Good News of the Kingdom. It is like a lasting sermon against the spirit of the world. Against its freedom-worshipping and anarchical taste for liberty, religious life affirms that one can bind himself to God, that one can, in the Holy Spirit, make a spiritual thing out of that which is corporeal, and make something stable out of that which changes. Against the world's obsessive defeatism before the evil which it inflicts on itself, the religious life affirms that one can conquer the flesh and push back the empire of the devil. Finally if it is true that the very word ecclesia means con-vocation, a gathering of men in response to a call, the cal! of the Kingdom of God, the religious life situates itself at the very source of the mystery of the Church. For the religious life is, both in its substance as well as in the first act which draws one to enter into it, a total listening to God. It is a reality in the image of Mary, Mary herself being, we know, the type, and even better than the type: the perfect personification of the Church as holiness. It is possible to think that in the wide sense everything is a vocation, because everything is a response to the will of God. But there are vocations in the strict sense, and it is correct to speak of "religious vocation." In the Church, as we have seen, the strong support the weakest; docility in the following of that which is strictly a voca-tion is like a compelling example, a sign and a support for the difficult fidelity to vocations in their larger acceptation. The abso-luteness of the response of religious women to their call supports the response of all others. It is necessary that religious women know that they contribute in this way to the continuation of the whole Church, somewhat as each star in the firmament is necessary for the balance of the whole. Spiritually we all have family respon-sibilities. A last remark of some importance ecclesiologically on the subject of the religious life as a response to a special call. In the 36 January, 1960 THEOLOGY OF RELIGIOUS WOMEN beginnings of Christianity, baptism ratified a personal choice, an eventually dangerous one, of the faith. It was the term of a con-version. It was truly a second birth, not only in the dogmatic sense which is always true, but in the moral sense and on the psycho-logical plane. Psychologists distinguish, since Francis W. New-man, 4~ the "once born" and the "twice born": those who are simply what they were at their entrance into the world plus the results of their being" formed by it; and those who have known a revela-tion, had a decisive ~xperience, heard a call, and are truly, per-sonally, born a second time. A man baptised at the termination of a personal conversion is, psychologically and morally, a "twice born." But, in the general practice, almost universal and one might even say automatic practice of baptism of the newly born, the Church is no longer made up of the twice born except by way of exception. But it is necessary that their moral race always be represented in her midst. She is "twice born" individually by the more or less large number of faithful who are truly born of a second birth. She is "twice born" institutionally especially because of the religious life. Moreover, historically the fact has often been brought out46 that the monastic life developed at the moment when, with the end of persecution and danger and the beginning of the favor of the powerful, large masses of people entered the Church, en-dangering the strength of her leaven. The vocation to asceticism has after a fashion taken the place of the vocation to martyrdom; monks have in a way taken over the status of the martyrs as signs of an absolute response given to an absolute call. The Church's religious life always has this mission of signifying that the Christian life is a second birth whose principle is a call. We will not treat here -- we have already done it briefly elsewhere47 -- an interesting problem, but more theoretical than practical, which was posed by the researches of M. Weber and E. Troeltsch. According to these Protestant authors, religious orders answer within the Church to the needs and the religious tempera-ment which outside the Church produces sects. These would be, sociologically speaking, of the "sect" type, not of the "church" type in so far as they are groupings, first, of volunteers, men who 4~The Soul. Its Sorrows and Its Aspirations. 3rd ed., 1852, 89 ft. 4GFor example, see M. Viller, "Martyre et perfection," in Revue d'ascd-tique et mystique, 6 (1925), 4-25; L. Bouyer, op. cit. n. 28, 89 ft. and his Vie de saint Antoine (Fontenelle, 1950); J. Winandy, Ambroise Autpert, moine et thdologien (Paris, 1953), 56; Ed. E. Malone, The Monk and the Martyr: The Monk as the Successor of the Martyr (Washington, 1950). 47Vraie et [ausse r~/orme dans l'Eglise (Paris, 1950), 288-92 (includes bibli-ography). 37 YVES M.-J. CONGAR Review for Religious come together in a group on the basis of a personal decision and who thus do not presuppose the existence of the group but con-stitute it; second, men who have achieved a break with the world and prefer the Gospel's opposition to terrestrial life to its universal-ism which necessarily involves compromise. Troeltsch sees in religious orders an ecclesiastical naturalization of tendencies which outside the Church result in sects. There is much truth in the analysis of Troeltsch, but only on its own psycho-sociological plane. Both above and below this level it errs. Without prejudice to other of his well made points, we be-lieve we have shown from the inside, that is to say from the view-point of the Church herself, that it is the mystery of the Church which is found to be the essential element in the life of religious orders and of each of their members. By way of conclusion, we would like to answer a question which it is impossible not to put in the context of what we have been considering. Is the religious life or is it not of the essence of the Church, and if it is, by what title? Papal teaching furnishes an answer and it will suffice merely to present it and explain it. Faced with "Americanism," Leo XIII already affirmed that religious orders are of great importance to the mission of the Church.48 But it was necessary to connect their existence with the end of the Church. The Church would not fully fulfill her mission if the institutions of religious life were lacking. If the end of the "missions," in the strict canonical sense of the word, is to "plant the Church" in such a way that she has in a given country or among a given people all her essential institutions, all the means of existence and of action, one understands why Pius XI demanded that on the missions as many religious orders and congregations as possible should be instituted, and that they should be made up of indigenous elements created in new and better forms, where the need for such arose29 His Holiness Pius XII made the matter still clearer in the constitution Provida mater of February 2, 1947, the charter of secular instutes. The two states of cleric and layman, he said, exist by divine right and are necessary to the Church in so far as she is a society constituted and structured hierarchically; they pertain to the essential structure (to the building) of the Kingdom of God 4sSee his letter Testern benevolentiae to Cardinal Gibbons, January 22, 1899, in Actes de Ldon XIII (Paris: Bonne Presse), V, 322-25; also the letter of December 23, 1900 to Cardinal Richard, ibid., VI, 188-89. ~gSee the encylical Rerurn Ecclesiae of February, 1926, in Acta Apostolicae Sedis, 18 (1926), 74. 38 January, 1960 THEOLOGY OF RELIGIOUS WOMEN on earth.5° The Church recognizes a third state, the religious state, which is common to the two preceding states, since it includes members of the faithful who, canonically, belong to the clerical or to the lay state; this religious state is bound by a strict and peculiar relationship to the end of the Church, sanctification.5~ One can say, then, that the religious state is not essential to the Church considered in her formal elements or in her static constitutives. A bishop and faithful suffice for a Church. From this comes the well-known definition of St. Cyprian, "A people one with its priest and a flock adhering to its shepherd, these are the Church.''~ Nevertheless, as soon as the Church lives she exercises the activities for which she was put into the world. These are the activities of the sanctification of men, that is to say, of their sub-mission to the Kingdom of God and, by that fact, of their entry into her communion. Here it is that the religious life steps in as the social form of existence most strictly conformed to the needs and the conditions of the Kingdom of God. And the religious life was first seen historically under the form of the institution of con° secrated virgins. Evidently, looked at in one or other of its par-ticular forms, religious life is a creation of the Church and stands out in her history. But, looked upon in principle, that is to say as the call to live only for God and for His kingdom, it holds a place at the very heart of the Church. In her quality as bride of Christ, it is included in the obligations and the laws of holiness which this Church pursues as her proper end. ~°Acta Apostolicae Sedis, 39 (1947), 116. In his al]ocution Annus sacer, the Holy Father, citing canon 107, said that "on earth the structure of the Kingdom of God consists of a double element" (Acta Apostolicae Sedis, 43 [1951], 27). ~See Provida Mater Ecclesiae and also Annus sacer, Acta Apostolicae Sedis, 43 (1951), 28: "[The religious state] exists and is important, because it is closely connected to the proper end of the Church which is to lead men to the attainment of sanctity." ~2Epistula 66, 8 (Hartel's edition, p. 732; Patrologia Latina, 4, 406 where it is listed, however, as Epistle 69). 39 Survey of Roman Documents R. F. Smith, S. J. THIS ARTICLE will provide a summary of the documents which appeared in Acta Apostolicae Sedis (AAS) during August and Sep-tember, 1959. Throughout the article all page references will be to the 1959 AAS (v. 51). Encyclical on the Priesthood On August 1, 1959 (AAS, pp. 545479), Pope John XXIII issued the second encyclical of his pontificate. The encyclical was entitled Sacerdotii Nostri primordia (The First Days of Our Priesthood); oc-casioned by the Pontiff's desire to honor the hundredth anniversary of the death of St. John Vianney, Cur~ of Ars, the document is devoted to a consideration of the priesthood as exemplified in the life of the saint. The introductory paragraphs recall the temporal links between the official glorification of St. John and the Pontiff's own priesthood: the future saint was beatified shortly after the Pope's own ordination to the priesthood; the first bishop the Pope served, Bishop Radini- Tadeschi, was consecrated on the day of the beatification; and the Pope received the fullness of the priesthood in the year (1925) when the Cur~ of Ars was declared a saint. The Holy Father then lists the great papal documents on the priesthood that have appeared during the present century: Pius X's Haerent animo (Acta Pii X, 4, 237-64); Plus XI's Ad catholici sacerdotii fastigium (AAS, 28 ~19361, 5-53); Pius XII's Menti Nostrae (AAS, 42 [1950], 657-702); and the same Pontiff's three allocutions on the priesthood inspired by the canonization of Plus X (AAS, 46 119541, 313-17; 666-77). To these documents the Pope has now added his own in the hope that it may aid priests to preserve and increase that divine friendship which is at once the joy and strength of the priestly life. In expressing the purpose of the encyclical the Vicar of Christ remarked that he intended to retrace the chief traits of the holiness of the Cur~ of Ars, since these emphasize those aspects of the priestly life which, while always essential, are today so vital that the Pontiff has deemed it his apostolic duty to call attention to them. Priestly Asceticism and Mortification In the first of the three parts of the main body of the encyclical the Pope considered the priestly asceticism and mortification of the Cur~. To speak of the saint, he began, is to evoke the figure of an 4O ROMAN DOCUMENTS exceptionally mortified priest who for the love of God deprived himself of nourishment and sleep, practiced severe, penances, and exercised a heroic self-renouncement. His example, the Holy Father said, should recall to all the important place of the virtue of penance in the perfec-tion proper to the priesthood. While it is true that priests as such are not bound by divine law to the evangelical counsels, still this does not mean that the priest is less bound than religious to strive for evangelical perfection of life. Rather the accomplishment of the priestly functions "requires a greater interior sanctity than even the religious state does" (St. Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologiae, 2-2, 184, 8, c). And if the evangelical counsels are not imposed on the priest by virtue of his clerical state, nevertheless they are offered to him, as to all Christians, as the safest road to the longed for goal of Christian perfection. The Cur~ of Ars, continued the Pope, is a model of evangelical poverty; he lived totally detached from the things of this world. Freed in this way from the bonds of material things, he could thereby be entirely open to all those who suffered and who flocked to him for solace. His disinterestedness made him especially attentive to the poor whom he treated with tenderness and respect, convinced that to con-temn the poor is to contemn God Himself. Priests, then, if they possess material things, should not cleave to them with cupidity; rather should they recall the directives of canon law (c. 1473) according to which what is left over from ecclesiastical benefices should be used in favor of the poor and of pious causes. The Pontiff, however, made it clear in the closing part of this section that he does not approve the abject poverty to which many priests in small towns and in the country are reduced, and he urged the faithful to cooperate with the bishops to see that the sacred ministers be not lacking in what is necessary for their daily sustenance. Turning to the second of the evangelical counsels, the Vicar of Christ then pointed out that all through his life the Cur~ was mortified in his body and that this was achieved by his constant and careful observance of chastity. His example, the Pope pointed out, is most necessary today; for in many places priests must live in an atmosphere of excessive license and pleasure. And at times they must live in such an atmosphere unsupported by the sympathetic understanding of the faithful they serve. In spite of these difficulties John XXIII called upon priests to show forth in their entire lives the splendor of the virtue of chastity, that noblest ornament of their sacred order, as Pius X called it. The chastity of the priest, he added, will not enclose him in a sterile egoism; for as the Cur~ of Ars himself once said: "The soul that is adorned with the virtue of chastity can not but love others; for such a person has found the source and origin of all love---God." The next component of the Cur~'s asceticism to be considered by the Holy Father was his obedience. The Pontiff emphasized that the 41 l~ F. SMtT~ Rewew for Rehgmus "I promise" of the Cur$'s ordination ceremony was the occasion of a permanent self-renouncement that lasted throughout forty years. From early youth the ardent desire of the Cur~ had been for solitude, and his pastoral responsibilities were a heavy burden preventing him from the fulfillment of this desire; many times he tried to be freed from his pastoral work but always remained obedient to the will of his bishop, convinced as he was of the Gospel phrase: "Whoever hears you, hears me" (Lk 10:16). The Vicar of Christ then expressed the hope that the priests of today would see in the Curg the grandeur of obedience and would recall the words of Pius XII: "Individual holiness as well as the efficacy of all apostolic work finds its solid foundation in constant obedience to the hierarchy." Accordingly priests should endeavor to develop in themselves the sense of the filial relationship by which they are united to Mother Church. Prayer and Devotion to the Eucharist In the second principal division of the document, John XXIII reflected on St. John as a model of prayer and of devotion to the Eu-charist. Prayer, he said, was as important in the saint's life as was penance and mortification. His love for prayer was shown in his long nightly vigils of adoration before the Blessed Sacrament; the tabernacle of his parish church became for him the center from which he drew the strength necessary for his own personal life and for the effectiveness of his apostolic endeavors. This example of the Cur6, the Vicar of Christ pointed out, is sorely needed by the priests of today; for they are keenly sensible of the effectiveness of action and hence easily tempted to a dangerous activism. The Cur~ of Ars should convince priests everywhere that they must be men of prayer and that they can be such, no matter how heavy the press of apostolic labors may at times become. The prayer of the Cur~, he continued, was especially a Eucharistic prayer; for nothing in the life of a priest can replace silent and prolonged prayer before the altar. Nor should it be forgotten that Eucharistic prayer in the fullest sense of the word is to be found in the sacrifice of the Mass. The celebration of the Mass is an essential part of the priestly life, for in what does the apostolate of the priest consist if not in the gathering together of the people of God around the altar? It is through the Mass that in one generation after another the mystical body of Christ that is the Church is built up. Moreover the entire sanctifica-tion of the priest must be modeled on the sacrifice he offers; the priest must make his own life a fitting sacrifice, a participation in the expiatory life of the Redeemer. It was for this reason that the Cur~ used to ob-serve that if priests lose the first fervor of their ordination it is because they do not celebrate piously and attentively. 42 January, 1960 ROMAN DOCUMENTS Pastoral Zeal In the third part of the encyclical the Vicar of Christ delineates the pastoral zeal of St. John Vianney. The Curg's life of asceticism, he observed, together with his life of prayer was the source from which flowed the effectiveness of his ministry; in him is verified once more the statement of Christ: "Without me you can do nothing" (Jn 15:5). As a result, the Curg was a model shepherd of souls who knew his flock, protected it from danger, and led it with authority and wisdom. His example, the Pope continued, included three points of utmost import-ance. The first of these was his keen appreciation of his pastoral re-sponsibilities. From the beginning he conceived of his pastoral work in heroic fashion and expressed his attitude in one of his early prayers: "Grant, O God, that~ the people entrusted to me may be converted. For this I am prepared to suffer all the days of my life whatever You may wish." Following the example of apostles of all ages he saw in the cross the one great effective means of saving souls; so it was that he could advise a fellow priest who was disappointed in the results of his apostolic endeavors that prayer, supplications, sighs, and groans were insufficient unless there was added to them fastings, vigils, and bodily chastisement. Besides his general sense of his pastoral responsibilities the Curg manifested his pastoral zeal by his interest and care for preaching and catechizing. Up to the time of his death St. John never ceased to preach, to instruct, to denounce evil, and to lead souls towards God. This should remind today's priests, the Pope said, that everywhere and at all times they must be faithful to their duty of preaching; for, as Pius X insisted, no task of the priest is more important than this. And in their reflections upon their duty to teach, priests should remember that they preach more by their lives than by their words. The third element in the pastoral zeal of the Cur~ of Ars was, according to the encyclical, his work as confessor. It was this form of his ministry that became the real martyrdom of his life. His fifteen hours a day in the confessional would have been difficult in any case; but these were spent by a man already exhausted by fasting, penances, and infirmities. It can be said, the Pope continued, that the Cur~ lived for sinners; their conversion and sanctification was the aim of all his thoughts and of all his activities. Like the Cur~ priests must devote themselves to the work of the confessional, for it is there that the mercy of God meets and overcomes the malice of men. And they must set their people a good example in this matter by their own regular and fervent use of the sacrament of penance. In the conclusion to the encyclical the Pontiff expressed the desire that the centenary of the Curg may arouse in all priests a desire to accomplish their ministry and especially their own perfection as gen-erously as possible. No problem facing the Church today, he added, 43 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious can be solved without priests. As Plus X said: "To promote the King-dom of Christ throughout the world, nothing is more necessary than a holy clergy." Similarly St. John himself pointed out to his bishop: "If you wish to convert your diocese, you must make saints of all your priests." The Pontiff went on to urge the bishops of the world to make the care of their priests their first solicitude; he exhorted the faithful to pray for priests and to contribute to their sanctification; and he pleaded with Christian youth to reflect that "the harvest is great, but the harvesters are few" (Mt 9:37) and that entire peoples are today enduring a spiritual starvation far greater than any hunger of the body. Allocutions, Addresses, Messages On July 29, 1959 (AAS, pp. 586-89), the Holy Father addressed a congress of the blind and those interested in assisting the blind of the world. Pointing out to his audience that in Jesus' ministry of healing the first place was reserved for the blind, the Pontiff went on to deliver a message of hope to the blind of the world. They must remember, he began, that they have a suffering to offer up to God. In spite of all efforts to ease the lot of the blind, they will always be subject to dis-couragement, loneliness, and the weight of sorrow that blindness carries with it. Yet they must recall that according to the Apostle (Col 1:24) men must fill up what is lacking to Christ's passion and that in the redemptive plan the Lord has need of the daily offering of suffering on the part of the blind. The Vicar of Christ also pointed out that the blind have a definite mission to perform in this world, the mission of silent example that only one thing matters in this world: the love with which the will of God is accomplished. And he added that nothing on tbis earth is loss, as long as conformity with God's will is present. In the concluding part of his address the Pope recalled to his listeners that their goal is that of eternal life and that their journey thither is supported by the words of Christ: "Whoever follows me walks not in darkness, but has the light of life" (Jn 8:12). Blindness, he ended, can prepare those afflicted with it for the shining luminosity which will come in the next life from the glorified Christ. On August 20, 1959 (AAS, 639-41), the Pontiff radioed a message to the Second World Sodality Congress held at Newark, New Jersey. He told the sodalists that they were in the first ranks of the Church's army and stressed in their lives the role of their consecration to the Blessed Virgin, a consecration which of its nature includes the proposal to keep it throughout life. From this consecration, he continued, arises the desire to wish for nothing except what is pleasing to God and the resolution to strive by prayer, action, and example to serve the Church and to work for the eternal salvation of souls. On July 21, 1959 (AAS, pp. 584-85), the Holy Father delivered an allocution to the Prime Minister of Japan on the occasion of that 44 January, 1960 ROMAN DOCUMENTS dignitary's official visit to the Holy See. On August 16, 1959 (AAS, pp. 638o39), he delivered a radio message to the people of.Honduras on the occasion of the official consecration of their nation to the Sacred Heart of Jesus and the Immaculate Heart of Mary, telling them to strive to live in the grace of God, to preserve the sanctity of the family, and to maintain union and concord among themselves. On June 30, 1959 (AAS, p. 589), the Holy Father sent a written message to the Tenth World Boy Scout Jamboree held in the Philippine Islands. In the message he pointed out that the boy scout movement can produce admirable fruits in accordance with the ideals of Christian charity and universal brotherhood. Miscellaneous Documents By the apostolic letter, "Caritatis unitas," of May 4, 1959 (AAS, pp. 630-33), the Vicar of Christ approved the confederation of the various congregations of the Order of Canons Regular of St. Augustine. At the same time he also approved the general principles which are to govern the confederation and directed the members of the confedera-tion to draw up specific statutes for the confederation which should then be submitted to the Holy See for approval. A later apostolic letter, Salutiferos cruciatus Christi, dated July 1, 1959 (AAS, pp. 634-36), was directed to the Passionists. In the letter the Pontiff approved the revised form of the Passionists' constitutions and rules. He noted that the revision was undertaken in an effort to adapt the institute to the needs of the times and observed that in the revision the primary and fundamental characteristics of the institute had been reasserted, strengthened, and made more effective. On July 8, 1959 (AAS, pp. 592-93), the Sacred Congregation of Rites issued a decree approving the Office and Mass of St. Lawrence of Brindisi, confessor and doctor. The text of the Office, of the Oration of the Mass, and of the notices to be inserted into the martyrology is given in AAS, pp. 593-94. Another decree of the same Congregation was dated February 13, 1959 (AAS, pp. 590-92); this decree approved the introduction of the causes of the Servant of God Salvatore Lilli (1853-1895), professed priest of the Order of Friars Minor, and his companions, all of Whom were put to death in hatred of the faith. In the period under survey three documents of the Sacred Apostolic Penitentiary appeared. Under the date of July 18, 1959 (AAS, pp. 595-96), the Penitentiary published the revised text of the act of dedi-cation to Christ the King as well as its attached indulgences. This document is given in full on pages 3 and 4 of the present issue of RE-VIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. On August 13, 1959 (AAS, pp. 655-56), the Penitentiary published the text of a prayer composed by the Sacred Congregation of Seminaries and Universities to be recited by semi-narians for their parents. Seminarians who devoutly and contritely recite the prayer for their parents may gain an indulgence of fifty 45 VIEWS, NEWS, PREVIEWS Review for Religious days; and once a month they may gain a plenary indulgence under the usual conditions provided they have recited the prayer for a whole month. On the same date (AAS, p. 656), the Penitentiary announced that the faithful who in a church, a public oratory, or (in the case of those legitimately using it) a semi-public oratory privately perform the pious exercise commonly called the holy hour in memory of the passion, death, and ardent love of our Lord Jesus Christ may gain a plenary indulgence, if they have gone to confession, received Com-munion, and prayed for the intentions of the Holy Father. This new concession of an indulgence for this practice is not intended to abrogate the partial indulgence of ten years mentioned in the Enchiridion in-dulgentiarum (Manual of Indulgences), 1952 edition, n. 168. On May 18, 1959 (AAS, p. 647), the Sacred Consistorial Congrega-tion appointed Archbishop Concha of Bogot~ military vicar of Columbia. Views, News, Previews IN A PREVIOUS issue (Review for Religious, 18 [1959], 237), the beginning of a new quarterly, Jesus Caritas, was noted. Response to the new magazine, which is devoted to the spirituality of P~re de Foucauld, has been sufficient to warrant the continuation of its publi-cation. The latest issue has been that of September, 1959. The yearly subscription price has been set at $1.00; in Canada and the United States subscription orders should be sent to: Jesus Caritas 700 Irving Street, N.E. Washington 17, D. C. The first congress of the Confederation of Benedictine Congrega-tions to be held since the promulgation of the confederation's laws by Pius XII in 1952 took place during the latter part of September, 1959. At the congress Dom Benno Gut, Abbot of Einsiedeln in Switzerland, was elected Abbot Primate of the Confederation. The new primate was born on April 1, 1897, was professed in 1918, and ordained in 1921. After studies and a teaching career at Sant'Anselmo in Rome, he was elected abbot of Einsiedeln in 1947. The Cassinese Benedictine Congregation, largest of the fifteen included in the Benedictine Confederation, in a general chapter at Subiaco during October, 1959, elected Dom Celestino Gusi, Abbot of Manila, as the eleventh Abbot General of the congregation. The Graduate Department of Religious Education, Immaculate Heart College, 2021 North Western Avenue, Los Angeles 27, Cali- 46 January, 1960 VIEWS, NEWS, PREVIEWS fornia, announces a two-week course in canon law for religious superiors, which will grant two units of graduate credit. The course, conducted by the Reverend Joseph F. Gallen, S.J., professor of canon law at Woodstock College, Maryland, will be open to major and local su-periors of all communities of sisters. It is scheduled for the afternoons of June 28 to July 9, 1960. The tuition is $32. The fourth course in the new program in ascetical theology, which is offered in the Graduate Department of Religious Education, Im-maculate Heart College, will be given by the Reverend Eugene Burke, C.S.P., professor of dogmatic theology at Catholic University of America, from July 11-15, 1960. The course is entitled "The Life of Grace and Growth of Virtue" and grants one unit of graduate credit. Sisters who did not apply for admission to the M.A. program when it began in October, 1959, may apply for admission now. Residence ac-commodations are available for the five-day course at Holy Spirit Retreat House in Los Angeles. All reservations must be made before June 1, 1960, and be accompanied by a ten-dollar deposit. Room and board is $20; tuition is $17.50. Inquiries should be directed to Sister Mary Thecla, I.H.M., Dean of the Graduate School, Immaculate Heart College. A new publication that should prove both interesting and important is the Seminary Newsletter, the first issue of which appeared in October, 1959: The Newsletter is issued by the Seminary Department of the National Catholic Educational Association and "is meant to be a clearinghouse of information about seminaries and seminary training, especially from the academic point of vigw; a clearinghouse of ideas, projects, and results of research." Included in the first issue of the Newsletter is an informative statistical report on Catholic seminaries in the United States. According to the report, during the academic year 1958-1959 there were 381 major and minor seminaries in the United States; of these 99 were diocesan institutions, the other 282 belonging to religious orders and congregations. The report notes "that 131 of the 381 seminaries in the United States have been founded since 1945; 108 since 1950. This means that 34% of the total number have been founded since World War II, 28% of them since 1950. It represents a 53 % increase in the number of seminaries since 1945 and a 40% increase since 1950." The report gives 38,503 as the total num-ber of young men studying for the priesthood in the United States. This number includes besides minor and major seminarians 2082 novices as well as 920 scholastics who have interrupted their seminary studies to teach. In REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, 18 (1959), 304-05, Father Gallen discussed the quest~ion whether more American congregations are be- 47 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Rewew for Rehgmus coming pontifical and presented some statistics on the matter covering the years 1943 to 1957. A study of L'attivit~ della Santa Sede nel 1958 (The Activity of the Holy See in 1958), published in 1959 by the Vatican Polyglot Press gives data from the year 1958 on the same matter. According to the report of the Sacred Congregation of Religious that is given in the volume, during 1958, fifteen institutes received the decree of praise; two of these were in the United States: the Missionary Servants of the Most Blessed Trinity (M.S.B.T.) of Philadelphia founded in 1916 and the Missionary Sisters of the Most Holy Trinity (M.S.SS.T.) of Washington founded in 1921. The Congregation also reported that during 1958 there were seventeen institutes which re-ceived the definitive approval of their constitutions; of these none was in the United States. The Congregation's report also contained informa-tion about secular institutes: two secular institutes were granted diocesan establishment, one received the decree of praise, and one, the decree of final approbation; none of these four was in the United States. During the same year the Sacred Congregation of the Propagation of the Faith granted the decree of praise to one institute in Ireland and gave definitive approval to the Daughters of Mary of Uganda, Africa. It is interesting to note that this last institute is the first pontifical African institute for women. ( uestions and Answers IThe following answers are given by Father Joseph F. Gallen, S. J., professor of canon law at Woodstock College, Woodstock, Maryland.] Our constitutions command the mistress to be with the novices always and, if she should be absent from the house, to learn on her return everything that happened during her absence. I do not think that any mistress has followed either injunction literally, but these two prescriptions have caused a highly exaggerated surveillance. Shouldn't the observance of both be tempered by intelligent prudence? Yes. The first injunction, that the mistress should be with the novices always, is in many constitutions, the second only in very few. The first injunction is also and unfortunately observed in many insti-tutes. This is an evidently false spiritual pedagogy. It simply does not work in any field of the development of character and it is unworthy of the religious state, which is a spontaneous, voluntary, and personal dedication of oneself to Christ. The fundamental purpose of the novice-ship is to give the novice a profound consciousness of God, not of the master or mistress. The novice is to be led to a convinced personal dedication of herself to God; her life is to be a personal committment, 48 January, 1960 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS not forced external observance; she is to be trained to think for herself, to personal decisions, and to a sense of responsibility and reliability. The noviceship should be a school that will equip the novice for the life she will actually have to live. She should be instructed and guided but allowed sufficient freedom of action; otherwise you will know what she appears to be but not what she is. She should be checked and corrected, and even more frequently than is commonly done; but this does not demand unceasing vigilance. The more a superior tries to see, the less he will learn. No superior has to try to see everything in order to learrL what he should know. I hazard the conjecture that reticence about interior matters increases in direct proportion to external observation. That the novice mistress or her assistant should be with the novices frequently is intelligent and prudent; that she should be with them always is simply destructive of the purpose intended. Only God. can see everything, and God as one's judge is not the motive of the religious life. The following quotation from a religious woman contains several thought-provoking observations. The principles for the formation of character in congregations are for the most part taken from a psychology of a distant past. This, in the case of women, only aimed at creating habits of will power, furnishing the mind with knowledge learnt by heart, and very little was done to appeal to the interest. They disregarded the education of the senses, any development of initiative and sense of responsibility and the deep needs of feelings. The new psychology seeks to develop the virtues and activities that they may adapt themselves and form personalities . Deeper problems lie in the change of the feminine way of living. In the depth of her being the woman is rather passive. In past centuries the life of a woman matched this interior disposition, but today matters have changed. Modern life forces woman to greater independent activity. She has had to take over responsible work both in private and public life. Her mode of living gets nearer to the masculine type, though at the expense of her individuality. (Sister Agnes, S.I-I.C., Religious Life Today, 162-63.) 2 Our constitutions do not mention at all the canonical requisites for a higher superior. You have already explained these partially. Will you please explain them fully? Canon 504 demands the three personal qualities listed below for the valid election or "appointment of any higher superior of men or women. Age is the only variable element among the three canonical requirements. All of these three impediments established in canon 504 are dispensable but only by the Holy See. The higher superiors in the sense of this canon are the abbot primate; abbot superior of a mon-astic congregation; the abbot .of an independent monastery, even if the monastery appertains to a monastic congregation; the mothers general and regional of federations and superioresses of monast

Issue 10.5 of the Review for Religious, 1951. ; A.M.D.G. . Renew for Religious SEPTEMBER 15, 1951. Christian Heroes . J. Pu~z Joy in Heaven . Richard L. Rooney ¯ PassionisHc SpirH'uallty . Fidells Rice Modesty ¯ ¯ ~ . ,~ .~ . C- A. Herbs÷ Grace o~ Our Vocation . P. De Leffer Communion for O~hers . . Clerence McAuliffe A Vocational Newspaper Questions and Answers Book Reviews ,VOLUME X i' =, NUMBER 5' RI:::VI W FOR RELIGIOUS VOLUME X SEPTEMBER, 1951 NUMBER GONTENTS CHRISTIAN HEROES-~3. Putzo S.J . 225 Heroism of Everyday Life . 225 The New Saints ¯ " . ZZ9 The New Beati . 235 JOY IN HEAVEN--Richard L. Rooney, S.3 .2.3.9 PASSIONISTIC SPIRITUALITY--Fidelis Rice, C.P .2.4.1 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . 246 MODESTY--C. A. Herbst, S.J . 247 ETUDE SUR LA PAUVRETE. RELIGIEUSE .2.5.2. THE GRACE OF OUR VOCATION---P. De Letter, S.J .2.5.3 COMMUNICATIONS--A VOCATIONAL NEWSPAPER . 260 OFFERING COMMUNION' FOR OTHERS-~Clarence McAuliffe, S.J. 261 MEDICO-MORAL PROBLEMS . 265 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 20. Alienation of Property for $100,000 . 266 21. Alienation of Sacred Objects: Relics, Images, Vessels . . . . 266 22. Extreme Unction before Major Operation .268 23. Letters of Golden Jubilarians . 268 24. Novice Master at Coun~i~ Meeting . ¯ " . 268 25. Communion to Ambulatory Sick . 269 26. Hail Mary's on Feast of Annunciation . 270 I'~EW MEDITATION BOOKS . 270 BOOK REVIEWSw Pastor's History of the Popes; The Love of God and the Cross of Jesus; The Gifts of the Holy Ghost . 273 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS . 276 BOOK NOTICES . 278 TEN YEAR INDEX OF REVIEW--MAYBE . 280 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, September. 1951. Vol. X, No. 5. Published bi-monthly: January, March, May, July, September, and November at the College Press, 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas, by St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approbation, Entered as second class matter January 15, 1942, at the Post Office, Topeka. Kansas, under the act of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Adam C. Ellis, S.J., G. Augustine Ellard, S.J., Gerald Kelly, S.J. Editorial Secretary: Jerome Breunig, S~ J. Copyright, 1951, by Adam C. Ellis, S,J. Permission is hereby granted for quota-tions of reasonable length, provided due credit be given this review and the author. Subscription price]! 3 dollars a year: 50 cents a copy. Printed in U. S. A. Befoie writing to us, please consult notice on inside back cover. Christ:ian bleroe It~UR DAYS call for heroic living. The greatness.and diffi: ~ culties of our time are su.cb that no disciple ofo "~hrist.is allowed to remain satisfied with mediocrity." This, saying of Plus XI has often been quoted. The Holy Year was" meant-to stir up Christendom to greater fervor, that it might be an:active, l'eaven for'the much-needed renovation of the world. The numerous beati-fications and canonizations of this last year put beforeus outstandi'ng Christian heroes whose example is meant to stimulate our mediocgity~ Heroism is the test applied by the Church to candidates for .beati-- fication--not a human, stoic heroism, but a heroism inspired by personal love, by charity, and sustained by the Holy Ghost dwellin~ in the soul. At the beginning the typical saint was the ma'rtyr, th.e Christian who had been a witness to Christ by. dying for Him. ,But soon it was realized that, in the absence of persecution.s, there can be an "unbloody martyrdom" by heroic fidelity in liv'ing for Christ, Thus, by the side of martyrs, the names o,~f. outstanding "confes~ors~j came to be added in the martyrology. Heroism always remained the test of genuine sanctity, and the Congregation of Rites, .When studying the cause of'a confessor, has chiefly to discuss the hiroism his virtue. Is there evidence that he possessed in a herbic degree.the theolggical virtues of faith, hope, charity and the cardinal.~ri~tues :of prudence, justice, temperance, fortitude, with the virtues connected with them'? , .' ~ :: " , But what is required for heroic virtue? It is not easy tO dete~ mine thi's notion. Benedict XIV, in his treatise on'the beatification of the servants of God, has given all the elements, but he has:not made the synthesis, and one may say that the notion remained some:~ what indeterminate. This gave rise, 'within the ,Congregatigrl of Rites, to different conceptions of heroic, virtue. This. difference' de-layed the cause of the servant of God, A. Gianelli. The same reason may explain why until this year no child or ado.lescent ever passed the test, for the classical conception insisted 'on "extraordinary,~.' manifestatidns of heroism. There was room for progress 'tow~i'r'ds greater precision and, accor~ding to a recent articl'e by.~a consultor:of 22'5 J. PU~Z Reoieto for Religious the Congregation of Rites, the well-known Carmelite, Father Gabriel of St. Mary Magdalen, a distinct progress has been made during recent years. (Cf. Etudes Carmelitaines, 1949, pp. 175-88.~ This progress has not only a juridical importance for the process of beatification; it interest~ ascetical theology as well, since all Chris-tians are called to sanctity, and the type of holiness required by the Church for canonization determines the ideal of Christian perfection after which all must strive. T.he true Christian is the saint, and the saints are the standard by which we must guide and judge ourselves. Our imitation of.them must be based on a precise notion of what sanctity-~heroic virtue--consists in. Aqcording to Father Gabriel, the work of elaboration and deter-mination took place chiefly between 1916 and 1922, under the direct inspiration of Benedict XV. It can be followed in the decrees of the Congregation of Rites published on the occasion of the declara-tion of heroic virtue especially in the decrees concerning A. M. Gianelli (AAS, 1920, pp. 170-4)'and 3. N. Neumann (AAS, 1922, pp. 23-6). As a result, we are told, the Church is now in possession of a concept of heroic virtue more synthetic, less complicated and less abstract, more definite and easier to apply. This notion was clearly expressed in 1916 by Benedict XV, when he declared that "sanctity consists merely in conformity with the divine will, expressed in the constant and exact fulfillment of the duties of one's state." Sanctity, as the decree of April 11, 1920, explains, cannot be judged by an abstract standard. The saints cannot be reduced to one type. Heroism will vary according to each one's temperament, state of life, and other circumstances. It will not always show itself by extraordinary or stupendous deeds. For, as the decree' states, "these require a suitable occasion. But such occasions are rare and do not depend on the will of man; persecutions, for instance, plagues, or earthquakes cannot be produced at will. Hence, if holi-ness consisted in such deeds, it would follow that holiness itself does not depend on the will of man--which is absurd." The heroism to which all Christians can aspire is the exact and constant fulfillment of their concrete daily duties. "Comrounia sed non communiter,'" according to the motto of St. John Berchmans, doing common things but uncommonly well. What makes the saint is not the nature of his actions, whether extraordinary or common, important or insig-nificant; what counts is the intensity of his love that rules and in-spires all his actions. 226 September, 195 ! (]HRISTIAN HEROES Such fidelity implies real heroism, for nothing is more difficult to human nature than constancy. To be moved in everything by the will of God only, without being influenced by the ever-active sensi-bility, the sudden movements of the passions, the sense of fatigue, the ups and downs of one's n~oods.---such constancy supposes that the soul is under the perfect domination of the Holy Ghost and totally oriented towards its last end. Father Gabriel wrote in the same article, "If it were not so, if it were not perfectly purified, if other motives distinct from the love of God were still active (they can all be reduced to self-love, the root of all inordinate love of creatures), .then it would inevitably act more than once under the impulse of these motives and thus deviate from the pure fulfillment of the divine~ will." In such a soul "we admire a human nature tbat has reached a singular harmony and perfection--its spiritual forces keeping the sensible fac~lties in docile submission or completely conquering their resistance, so as to realize to perfection the task prescribed to it by the Lord: the perfect fulfillment of His holy will by a total, constant, ~nd generous fidelity to the daily duty." "Such sublime conduct, kept up over a long period, and without failure, is completely above the powers of human .nature left to itself . It alone suffices for evangelical heroism, for it makes man perfect in the way the heavenly ~Father is perfect." (Quoted by Benedict XIV in his treatise on beatification, III, c. 21, n. 10.) ! "'The heroism of the ordinary life has officially received a place by the side of the classical extraordinary heroism," wrote D. Pietro Brocardo. (Cf. Satesianum, 1950, p. 197.) Benedict XV's suc-cessor, the Pope who stressed the universal call of Christians to sanc-i. ,t~ty, often expounded this conception. Sanctity, according to Plus ~KI, is not something "exceptional," it is but the Christian life lived fully and intensely according to each one's vocation. Sanctity is but ~he fullest and richest expression of Christian life. It is the divine perfection proposed to all, from the humblest believer to the gigantic ~gures of hagiography. If not all are called to the same height of ~anctity, yet all are called to sanctity. His most famous pronounce-ment on this topic is his allocution published in Osservatore Romano, ~Jan. 6, 1928, on "the terrible everyday duty," given after the reading bf the decree of the heroic virtue of Brother Benildus, a humble leacher who had spent his whole life in elementary schoo.ls: "A humble servant of God, whose whole life was all modesty hnd silence, all very commonplace and very 'everyday.' But in such 227 Reoiew for Religious an. everyday- life how much there is that is not common! This everyday, always the same, with the same occupations, the same ~;eakness~s, the same miseries, has rightly been called 'the terrible ev'e'ryda3f:' How much strength is required to stand up to this ter-rible, this crushing, this monotonous, this asphyxiating everyday! An. un'c6mmon irirtue is very necessary to perform--not with an all too'° frequent negligence and superficiality but with attention and inner fe'rvbr of spirit--that series of common actions which fill our e'4ceryday life'. 0' "Holy Church is never a more equitable judge and a wi~er teacher of bdlinesk than when she honors these humble lights, so often unnoticed even by those who had the good fortun~ tosee them shine finder their i'er~, eyes. Extraordinary things, great events, magnifi-cei~ t enterprises arouse the noblest instincts: in the commonplace, on the:contrary, that is, in the flat and obscure everyday task, there is nothing exciting or fascin.ating. Yet this is the stuff the life of most men' is made of. How often do extraordinary circumstances present therfiselves in a lifetime? They are very rare, and woe to us if sanc-tity were reserved to extraordinary circumstances! What would the greater part of'~nankind do? For it is certain that all without dis-tinction are called to sanctity." " B'roth~r B~nil~tus was beatified twenty years later, on April 4, 1948. On that occasion Plus XII, too, spoke of the heroism of the ordinary life. Benildus was neither a founder, nor a mystic, nor a miracle-worker; h~.was a,~simple schoolmaster. His only claim to the honors' of the YChurch was his fidelity to duty--to his rules and the daily grind of the school. But such constant fidelity to the details of his di~ty, his radiant charity, his serenity in difficulties could only flow. frorrl a'ddep[and vigorous interior life and habitual union with Goal. ' :. ¯ During th~ Holy Year a variety of saints have been' beatified or e~rmn~zed." Maria Goretti w~s only eleven when she died, but she Was canonized as a martyr. Yet, even this extraordinary form of htroisrd;, the Pope pointed out, presupposes the "ordinary" heroism of the'daily life. Among the new beati is the first adolescent ever t'gised to the altars, Dominic Savio. So far, the youngest confessor ~fioni~ed is S~."Stanislaus; but he was a young man of eighteen ~nd, besides bein~ a religious, his life was out of the ordina.ry, Dominic died before he was fifteen, and his life was the very ordinary s~hool-b'oy life. The criterion of heroic virtue exposed by Father Gabriel 228 September, 1951 CHRISTIAN HEROES ,seems to havi~ made it possible for children and adolescerits to pass the test required for tl~e supreme honors of the Church. The eight saints canonized during the Holy Year of 1950 brought "the total number canonized by Plus XII tO twenty-two. Saints Emily de Rodat and Maria Goretti were also beatified by the present Holy Father. Among the canonized we find seven confessors and one martyr; one bishop, one priest-founder of a religious insti-tute, three foundresses of religious congregations, and three who attained sanctity "in the world": a middle-aged woman, a young woman, and a girl. Four are Italian, two French, one Spanish, and one from Latin America. Five belong to the nineteenth century, while the fifteenth, seventeenth, and eighteenth centuries each claim one. St. Jeanne de Valois (1464-1504) Jeanne de Valois, daughter, sister, and wife of kings, seemed to be so high-placed only to be the more cruelly humiliated and cast away. Her birth was a bitter disappointment for King Louis XI who already had a daughter and wanted a son who could succeed him. Misshapen by nature, she was sent away from the court and brought up by strangers. When still a child, she was bound by a political marriage to the young Duke of Orleans who detested her and who, when twenty years later he l~ecame King Louis XII, had his marriage annulled, makin,g of the rejected queen an object of public ridicule. But the greater her disgrace in the eyes of the world, the more clearly stands out her moral nobility and spiritual greatness. The "royal Cinderella," as she has been called, showed no bitterness, no morbid self-pity; she accepted everything with sincere humility, deep love for God and for men (including her husband for whom she never ceased praying and who became one of the best-loved kings of France), and whole-hearted application to the work God had given her. The king, on sending her away, made over to her the duchy of Berry, and during the six remaining years of her life she resided at Bourges, her capital, administering the duchy with such success that she earned from her pebple the title of "the Good Duchess."A'mid 229 J. PUTZ Review [or Religious the splendor of her court she secretly practiced" the most rigorous penances. In 1500 she realized a long-cherished project, the founda-tion of an order'of the Blessed Virgin, the Annqnciade. Its members were to take as their means of sanctification the imitation, the repro-duction of M~ry, by practicing, her "Ten Virtues" as found in the Gospel. She herself, though continuing to rule the duchy, made her religious profession and wore the habit under her worldly d~ess. She completed her work by founding a Third Order, the "Order of Peace,': whpse members, living in the world, were to work for peace and reconciliation. The Order of the Annonciade flourished for centuries, but was almost destroyed by the French Revolution. At ' present it has a half dozen bouses in Belgium, France, and England. When Joan died in her fortieth year she was immediately venerated as a saint. Her cult grew, miracles multiplied, but she was not formally beatified until 1742. Pius XII solemnlY proclaimed her a saint on May 28. In his homily the Holy Father stressed the saint's work for the promotion of peace; in heaven, he said, she continues to pray for the extinction of hate and for fraternal concord, so that the nations may form one great family, striving with united for~es to ensure prosperity and peace for all. On the following day, in an address to the numer-ous French pilgrims, he described the spirituM characteristics of the saint--spirit of faith, devotion to the Mother of Jesus ("an infallible test of the true. Christian"), union with Jesus in suffering--and gave her as an example tO French Catholics, particularly to the women of France "on'whom in the present crisis devolves a mission 9f supreme importance." SI. Mary Ann of Jesus (1618-1645) Born in Quito, Ecuador, of Spanish parents, this Saint of Latin America--"the Lily of Quito"--showed a precocious attraction for the things of the spirit. She took the three vows at ten and lived the live of a solitary in a room of her sister's wealthy home,.leaving it only to go to church and to visit the poor and sick. She practiced heroic austerities and was favored with sublime prayer. In 16~}5, when Quito was visited by earthquakes and a deadly plague, she publicly offered herself as a victim for the sins of the people. The skourge abated, but she was seized with a malady-which put an end to her short but intense life. She was only twenty-six. 230 September, 1~51 CHRISTIAN HEROES She was beatified by Plus IX in 1853. In 1946 "the Parliament of Ecuador declared her a "national heroine." Her canonizatiorl, the last of the Holy Year, took place on July 9.In his homily the Holy Father stressed three aspects, of her life: (1) immaculate purity; (2) ardent charity, which she practiced towards every misery, spir-itual and material: when she was powerless to help, she tried to obtain help from God by prayer, expiation, the offering of her life; (3) extraordinary austerity, inspired by the desire to expiate the sins of men. She offered herself as a~victim for the salvation of others. This question of mortification needs special stres.sing in the mod-ern world, the Pope said. "Not all, especially nowadays, understand this kind of penance; not all esteem it as they should. Many of our contemporaries despise it or neglect it. Yet we should know that for our fallen nature penance is absolutely necessa.ry. Unless y.ou do pena.nce you will all perish. Indeed, nothing heli3s more efficaciously to conquer our passions and to subject our natural instincts to the control of reason. And when we have won a victory over ourselves it is sweet to exp'erience a divine joy which surpasses' al'l earthly pleasures." In his allocution to pilgrims the following day, the Pope re-marked that we "who. live in the full light of the deyotion of the Sacred Heart may well admire the holy intuitions of this innocent victim who, at the beginning of .the seventeenth century, was led to make of reparation the centre of her spirituality." St. Vincent Strambi (1745-1824) St. Vincent Strambi was one of the great bishops and upholders of the Church's independence in the face of totalitfirian rulers. After being ordained a priest in 1767 he was received into the Passionist Congregation by St. Paul of the Cross himself. He was a great preacher of missions and director of souls (among his penitents was the Blessed Anna Maria Taigi) and filled high offices of authority in his order. In 1801 he was, much against his will, appointed bishop of Macerata and Tolentino by Plus VII. He administered his dio-cese with the zeal of another Charles Borromeo. Preoccupied chiefly with the formation of the clergy and the diffusion of religious in-struction, he brought about a religious renewal among priests and laity. When he refused to take the oath of. allegiance to the ustirping regime established by Napoleon he was expelled from his diocese in 231 J. PUTZ Review for Religious 1808 until the fall of the Emperor in 1813. In 1823 he resigned his see and died soon after in Rome, where Pope Leo XII had made him his confidential adviser." In the midst of his intense activity and the vicissitudes "of his life he never relaxed anything in the austerity of his private life. He was beatified, in 1925 and canonized on June 11, 1950. In his homily the Holy Father made an application to the countries where the Church is being oppress, ed by the secular power: "The Church can be attacked, she cannot be conquered . If under the present difficulties--which in some countries seem graver than those referred to above--some souls are disconcerted, wavering, or anxious, they should remember the promises of Jesu~ Christ and try to imitate the invincible fortitude of this saint as well as. his other virtues." St. Anthony Claret (1807-1870) St. Anthony Claret was another great priestly figure of the nine-teenth century. Born at Salient in the north of Spain, he practiced for a tired his father's trade of cloth-weaving, but eventually was able to follow his heart's desire and join the seminary of Vicb. After his ordination in 1835 and a few years of pa.rish work, he conse-crate'd himself with extraordiriary success to ~he preaching of missions and retreats throughout Catalonia. His zeal inspired other priests, and in 1849 he founded the Congregation of MissioriarySons of the Immaculate Heart of Mary, commonly kno.wn.as the Claretians. The same year he was sent to Cuba as Archbishop of Santiago, to b~ing about there a much-needed reform: In this post of exceptional diffi-culty he achieved considerable results, though several attempts were made on his life. After seven years he was recalled to Spain to become the confessor of Queen Isabella II. In the revolution of 1868 he was banished from his country. He attended the Vatican Council where he spoke eloquently for the definition of papal infalli-bility. Soon after, .on Oct. 24, 1870, he died in France. Besides preaching some 10,000 sermons, h~ was an ardent apostle of the press. He wrote 120 books and pamphlets (144 volumes), founded religious libraries, and promoted the diffusion of good literature. He was beatified in 1934 and canonized on May 7, 1950. The work of this powerful apostle is carried on by the Cl~iretians who in 1949 celebrated their first centenary. They count at present Over 4,000 members in 24I establishments all over "the world. Their chief work is education, missions and retreats, and the aposfolate of 232 September, 1951 CHRISTIAN HEROES the press. In Rome they ~un the Poliglotta Press and edit the Corn-mentarium pro religiosis et missionariis. St. Emily de Radar (1787-1852) .' At the beginning of the nineteenth century, the French Revolu-tion and the long wars that followed it bad accumulated in France and Europe immense miseries, spiritual and material. Then Provi-dence raised up numerous saints who, impressed by the needs of their time, devoted themselves to remedy them. Rarely in the history of the Church do we find so many religious institutes springing up every-where, dedicated to the prac.tice of various v~orks of corporal and spiritual mercy. In this providential reconstruction women had a prominent share, and this explains why among the saints beatified or canonized by Pius XII there ale so many religious foundresses of this period. Emily de Radar was beatified by Plus XII in 1940 and canon-ized by the same on April 23, 1950. Born of an aristocratic family, she was brought up by pious parents but passed through a period of worldly frivolity and religious indifference. Converted during the Holy Year of 1804, she decided to consecrate'her life to the service of God. After trying several religious institutes, her visits to the poor made .her realize the great need for Catholic schools: She immedi-ately set to work: she had found her vocation. With three other young women she opened a school, and thus the Congregation of the Holy Family was started. Today it has over 200 houses in Europe and South America--schools, orphanages, hospitals. The H01y Father, in his homily, stressed the precious services rendered by reli-gious institutes of women: "When we consider the admirable enterprises of this saint, when we remember what her congregation and the other religious institutes --almost innumerable--have accomplished, we cannot but proclaim that the Church and civil society as well owe very much to all these religious women. If we did not have them, if God by His heavenly inspiration did not continually and in every century raise them up, if He did not sustain them by His help, who could fill their place? Let all, then, learn to praise them as they deserve, to help them as they can . And may the religious zealously and strenuously strive to live up to their lofty vocation." Saints Bartolomea Capltanio and Catherine Gerosa (1807-1833) (1784-1847) , Bartolomea Capitanio and Catherine Gerosa founded together 233 the Italian Sisters of Charity, after the model of St. Vincent de Paul's Sisters of Charity. Bartolomea began her apostolate at fourteen, teaching, little children. Soon her simple and strong personality drew to her, as to their mother, the young, the poor and afflicted of her little town of Lovere. Seeing the need to organize the ever-increaging work she joined forces with another saintly worker of the same town, Catherine, who was twenty years her senior and had already opened a hospital for the sick poor. Bartolomea died a few years later, at the early age of twenty-six. Her spiritual notes and instructions, as well as a considerable number of her letters, have been published. She left the young institute to the care of Catherine (who had ~dopted the name of Vincenza), an extremely bumble woman, yet an efficierit worker and able organizer. During the fourteen years she had still to live, the congregation continued to expand 'rapidly Today it counts nearly 9,000 religious in some 500 houses. Barto-lomea' was beatified in 1926; Vincenza in 1933T.hey w~re canon-ized together on May 18, 1950. St. Maria Gorettl (1890-1902) No canonization war received with greater enthusiasm than that of the humble village girl who died for the preservation of her purity The ~tory of her martyrdom is. known to all our readers. Her popu-larity and the speed of her promotion to the highest honors of the Church ha~e been equalled or surpassed in modern times only by the Little Flower of Lisieux. Her cause was introduced in 1938 and concluded in 1945. The solemn beatification took place on April 27, 1947, and she was canonized three years later, on June.-24, 1950, forty-eight years after her death. " (Teresa of Lisieux died on Sept. 30, 1897, was beatified on April 29, 1923, and canonized on May 17, 1925. Aloysius Gonzaga was beatified fourteen years after his death, bu~ another' centu.ry passed before be was canonized.) In spite of her youth, Maria was capable of heroism, and this heroism showed itself also in the pardon accorded to her miarderer on her' deathbed and in. the superhum~t'n patience during the extremely painful operation by which,the doctors tried to save her, withou~ putting her to .sleep,. D.ur!ng those tWO. long., hours Mary never complained but kept invoking the help of the" BlEssed Virgin. For .sush :heroism, the Holy F,a.ther point.e~d 6ut.in his allocution, the 23~, September, 195 I. CHRISTIAN HEROES courageous child had prepared herself by the daiIy practice of the virtues of her state: "It is true that it is above all purity that sho~e in Maria Goretti's martyrdom, but with it. and in it the other Christian virtues tri-umphed as well. In that purity there was the most evident and sig-nificant affirmation of the perfect control of the soul over matter. In that supreme heroism, which cannot be improoised, there was the tender, obedient," and active love for the parents, self-sacrifice in the hard work~of every day, poverty accepted in an evangelical spirit and sustained by trust in Providence, religion embraced tenaciously, deepened ever more, ~ssimilated as a treasure of life and nourished by the flame of prayer; the fervent desire of ~lesus in the Eucharist, and finally--the crown of charity--the heroic pardgn accorded to the murderer. All this forms a rustic garland, so dear to God, of country flowers which adorned the white veil of her First Com-munion and, shortly after, her martyrdom." The beatifications of the Holy Year, like the canonizations were eight in number. The total of those beatified by Pope Plus XII at the end of 19~0 is now'fifty-two; this includes the twenty-nine Chinese martyrs. Among those beatified during the Holy Year we find one priest, one boy, and six foundresses of religious institutes: two Spanish, two Italian, and two French. All except one belong to the nineteenth century. Blessed Vincen~ Pallo~f~ (1795-f850). Vincent Pallotti was the apostle of Rome at a difficult period of histo~-y.-After his ordination and a double doctorate at the Sapienza, he started his apostolate among students and it soon became clear that Rome possessed a holy priest. He was made confessor of Propaganda College, the English College, the Roman Seminary. On all of them his influence was deep. But his preferences were for the poor and the workers; he opened professional and agricultural schools and pro-moted t?ade unions. His zeal embraced the whole world and every" need, spiritual and material. For this "universal" object he founded the Society of the Catholic Apostolate (a society :of" priests and Brothers living in common without public vows, commonly known ,235 J. PUTZ Reoieu~ for Religious as the Pallottines) and the Sisters of the Catholic Apostolate. He took a special interest in the conversion of England and sent to that country some of his best men. He realized, more than a century ago, the immense possibilities and the necessity of the lay apostolate, and Pius XI called him a "pioneer and precursor of Catholic Action." This bold and far-sighted planner was a man of incredible humility, considering himself an obstacle to the progress of the Church and accepting without a word the most cruel humiliations. He always kept his predilection f.0r the poor, giving them even his own clothes. He died of a pleurisy contracted as a consequence of giving his mantle to a destitute man. Today 3,550 Pallottines and 2,900 Sisters of the Catholic Apos-tolate continue the saint's w.ork in many countries. Vincent's beati-fication was the first of the Holy Year; it took place on Jan. 22, exactly 100 years after hi~ death. A few days later the Pope pointed out "this great sacerdotal figure" as an example to parish priests and preachers. His sermons, he said, were always directed to the ur~uro nec.essarium; his confessional was eagerly sought after and surrounded with extraordinary effects of grace, "May his spirit be renewed in every one of you and infuse into your apostolate that .irresistible glow of love which the doubting, uncertain, and suffering men of today need so much." Blessed Marla-Soledad Torres y Acosta (1826-1887) Maria started her apostolate of charity in a squalid quarter of Madrid. With her h'elp the parish priest opened a hospital for. the ¯ poor. Eventually she had to take charge of the whole work, which she stabilized and perpetuated by founding a religious congregation, the Servants of Mary. Her institute during her lifetime spread from Spain to South America. At present it counts some 1,600 members. She was beatified on Feb. 5, 1930. Blessed Vincenta-Maria Lopez y Vicuna (1847-1890) Vincenta was born of an aristocratic Spanish family. Sent to Madrid for her higher education, she became interested there in the charitable Work of her aunt who, shocked by the difficulties and dangers of the lives of domestic servants, had opened a home for them. Vincenta refused a brilliant match arranged by her father and 236 Se'ptembe¢, 19:51 CHRISTIAN HEROES took the vow of chastity. After her father's death she used her con-siderable fortune.to develop her work of social assistance. To further extend it she founded the Daughters of Mary Immaculate for the protection of young women. At'present they number, nearly 2,000 members in various countries. Their hostels for domestic servants, working-girls or students provide for the material and spiritual wel-fare of well over 30,000 young women. She was beatified on Feb. 19, 1950. Blessed Paola-Elizabeth Cerloli. (1816-1865) Like Vinc~nta she was bor~ of a noble family in Northern Italy. But at nineteen, not feeling called to the religious life, she followed the wish of her parents and married an old widower,Count Buzecchi, forty years her senior. After the death of her husband and three children she was then tl~irty-eight--she consecrated her time and income tO assisting the poor peasants and farmhands of the sur-rounding country. In 1857 she started a religious community, the Sisters of the Holy Family of Bergamo, for the care of orphans and morally abandoned children. In 1950 this institute counted some 300 members. The saint was also instrumental in founding a simi-lar institute for men, the Priests of' the Holy Family. The brief of canonization compares her with St. Joan de Chantal, an angel in four states of life, girl, wife, widow, and religious. She was beatified on March .19, 1950. Blessed Maria ~e Mattias (1805-1866) Maria was born in the diocese of Gaeta. When she was seven-teen, she attended a mission preached by the Blessed Gaspar del Bufalo, a friend of Blessed Vincent Pallotti and founder of the Mis-sionaries of the Most,Precious Blood. The holy preacher to whom she opened'her soul recognized her great gifts and entouraged her to take up the apostolate of Christian education. She began by gath-ering the little children in her parental home, and in 1834 she founded.a convent and a school. This was the beginning of the in-stitute of the "Adoratrici" of the Most Precious Blood, which today has 215 houses in Italy and 172 in other parts of the world, with some 2,000 members. She was beatified on Oct. 15, 1950. Blessed Anne-Marie Javouhey (1779-1851) The child of a farmer of Burgundy, she grew up amid the horrors 237 J., PUTZ Reaie~a [or Religious of the French Revolution, sometimes risking her life. in order to hide and assist priests. At nineteen she vowed perpetual Chastity and re-solved to dedicate her life to the education of children and the care of the sick. As other girls joined her in the work she c~nceived the plan of her new congregation, the Sisters of St. Joseph, called "of Cluny" from the place of the mother house. Soon she made founda-tions in mission countries, Africa, Pondicherry, French Guiana, and others. A woman of remarkable energy and intrepid enterprise' (King Louis Philippe said admiringly, "Madame Javouhey, that's a great man"), she frequently visited her missions, worked for the abo-lition of slavery and for the organization of public services in the colonies. From the start she realized the necessity of forming an indigenous clergy, and in order to accelerate the work she brought to France the first Negro candidates for the priesthood. Today the Sisters of St. Joseph are found in every part 'of the world, working in schools, hospitals, leper asylums, and other institutions. She was beatified on Oct. 15, 1950. Blessed Marguerite Bourgeo~ys (1620-1700) This blessed takes us back to the seventeenth century and to the great period of ~he Canadian missions. John de Brebeuf was mar-tyred in 1649. The Ursuline missionary-contemplative Marie de l'Incarnation died in Quebec in 1672. Margaret, who had first tried the contemplative life with the Carmelites and the Poor Clares in her native France, found bet vocation when .the Governor of Montreal came to France and tried to find a teacher for the children of the French garrison of Ville-Marie. She offered her services and in 1653 reached Montreal, where she .began bet apostolate by teaching the catechism and visiting the sick in their huts. In 1658, with some companions whom she bad brought out from France the previous year, she founded the congregation of Notre Dame of Montreal, which became an important educational factor for the whole of Canada and. since 1860, for the United States (at present 5,680 members). Margaret, "schoolmistress and itinerant mis~iorlary,;' opened mission schools ff;r Indian girls, many of whom became zealous Sisters in the institute. Thus, as the Pope remarked in his address to Canadian pilgrims, she realized among the "savage" Huron girls what St. Francis de Sales had dreamt of for France, a congrega-tion of non-cloistered "secular daughters." She was beatified on November 12, 1950. 238 September, 1951 JOY IN HEAVEN Blessed Dominic Savlo (1842-1857) Blessed Dominic, beatified on March 5, is the Benjamin of the confessors raised to the altars, since he was not quite fifteen when he died, The son of a modest but deeply Christian family, he very early showed a special earnestness and resoluteness in his piety. His First Communion, which he made at seven, .definitely set his will towards the goal of sanctity. In 1854 be was received by Don Bosco into the oratorio of Turin. Here~ under the saint's direction, and fos-tered by special graces, his spiritual life developed rapidly; but after two ~,ears a sickness obliged him to return to his home, where he died a few months later. His life was written by Don Bosco him-self. The decree declaring the heroism of his virtues was published in 1933. The beatification of this youthful masterpiece of divine grace--grace to which he corresponded heroically--will no doubt encourage new studies on the nature of sanctity and .especially of children's sancti~j'. [EDITORS' NOTE: The foregoing article is reprinted with permissi'on from The Clergy Montfily, a magazine published in India.] Joy in I-le ven Richard L. Roone}', S.J. "I,"HE Archangel in charge of the recording angels had called a | meeting of the guardians of religious. They were met in his skyey office high above the battlements of heaven. "Quite frankly, Angels, my aide~ are alarmed about this whole business," he was telling them. "The number of 'kicks,' complaints, criticisms and 'crabs' that l)hey have to record for religious is prepos-terous. They're even wondering if these human creatures will be satisfied and happy and content even here in heaven! They have found one hope, however. They feel sure that Purgatory will take all the 'kick' out of these kickers. You Gufirdian Angels do a grand job keeping your charges living up to their vows and observing the larger phases of religious life. It is time, nevertheless, that you went to work on this complaining business. It may relieve their human ,239 RICHARD L. ROO~EY feelings to 'crab' 6r to criticize. It doesn't add to God's glory or to their own merit however. So please, now, to business." The guardians, your own among them, filed out of' .the office and winged earthward. They came, each of them equipped with ques-tionnaires like the following. How would you answer them if your Angel Guardian put one before you during your next examen? 1. Do you find yourself complaining quite often? 2. What (or who!) is your p, et peeve? 3. Do you "kick" about the weather, the c~ll or the room you have, the house you are'in, the food you are. served, the work you have been assigned? 4. Do you ever "crab" about superiors or their directions? 5. Have you a few kindred souls with whom you get together to talk over the way things would be done if you were in charge of them ? 6. Do you firm., and vocalize about it. that the community is a pretty dull, or annoying lot? 7. Are you heaping up a pretty severe judgment for yourself by judging others . . . and that right severely? 81 There is a lot of sense in the little poem: Two men looked through prison bars; One saw mud, the other sad2 stars. Well, what do you see in the rest of us most of the time? 9. Do you accept the ordinary pin-pricks of daily religious life without grumbling? (Remember you are an especially selected member of a thorn-crowned Head.) i0. Can you put all of ydur words and remarks, both within the community and to externs, on the paten of tomorrow's Mass and know that they will be acceptable to God? After scanning the above you may find that it will be a good thing to take your particular examen off such undisturbingly im-practical generalities as humility or charity at large and particularize it at least on keeping a strict guard over your "kicking" tongue. If so, go to it! The best of success to you! Know that you will be a delight not only tO your. fellow religious but to the saints and angels and God Himself as well! 240" Passionist:ic Spiri!:uali!:y' Fidelis Rice, C.P. IN THE INFINITE 'reaches of eternity, within the secret council of the Godhead, the Wisdom and Love of God decreed that all of creation should reflect in.a unique way the ineffable perfections of God. Because God is absolutely infinite--that is, without any limits whatever--no creature could ever exhaust the divine imitabil-ity. Since the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity, the Word, is the Exemplar of all that is, iherefore each creature is called upon in its own distinct way to teA1 us a little more. about the vastness, the goodness, and the perfection of the Word. "All things were madd by Him, and without Him was made nothing that was made." In the realm 6f souls our reflection of the divine holiness is to be accomplished by a participation in the Christ-Life. For each soul is predestined from all eternity to manifest in time the eternal Holiness which is God. There is a uniqueness, then, in the destiny of each soul. "Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, Who" has blessed us with spirftual blessings in heavenly places, in Christ. As He chose us in Him, before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and unspotted in His sight, in charity." (Ephesians, 1:3, 4.) Here the great Apostle reveals to us that our holiness is planned and designed in eternity, but according to the pattern of Christ. We are all called to mirror the holiness of the Word, but each soul in a different way. There is, then, a wondrous blending of unity and multiplicity in the pattern of holiness. Christ is one, the unique model of all holiness. But because of the limitations of our nature, because of our very creaturehood, each one of us will reflect the holiness of Our Lord in a so.mewhat different way, just as various artists in painting the same subject will use a varying contrast, a difference of light and shadow, greater or less use of chiaroscuro, until the completed can-vases, while basically the same, will manifest vast differences. ¯ So it is that in the various religious orders and societies, approved by the Church, there is a difference of pattern in the design for holi-ness, although, all are dedicated to the one supreme objective--the perfect imitation of Christ. The essential spirit of each religious order is imparted, first of 241 FIDELIS RICE Retaieto for Religious all, by the founder of the institute. Plus XI clearly states that the various founders of religious institute~ were guided in a special way by the Holy Spirit, who seeks alway,s to communicate to the Mysti-cal Body.of Christ the graces purchased by His precious death upon the cross. "For what else did these most illustrious men do in founding their institutes, but obey the inspirations of God? There-fore, let their followers show forth in themselves those characteristic traits which the Founders imprinted upon their several Institutes. Let them not fail in this." ("Unigenitus"; A.A.S., Vol. XVI, p. 133.) The key, therefore, to essential Passionistic spirituality is to ,be found in the life and work of Saint Paul of the Cross, and Passion-ists can be called "Passionists" only insofar as they adhere to his teachings and to his spirit. ° It was the unique genius of Paul of the Cross to combine in one Rule the best features of two apparently contradictory or opposing states of life. For he willed that his religious should cherish and foster the contemplative observance of choir monks, centering all in the liturgical, prayer of the Office, while at the same time fulfilling the sublime vocation of a missionary apostolate. In the mind of Paul of the Cross, missionary activity should flow spontaneously, from the life of prayer, thus verifying the teaching of St. Thomas Aquinas that the function of the apostolate is "tradere contemplata aliis"--"to'give to others the fruits of contemplation." Because the consuming passion of the life of St." Paul of the Cross was love for the sufferings of 2esus Christ, he wanted his religious to share, in a special way, in the redemptive sacrifice of Christ. That is, the Passionist vocation is in a special way a vocation to a life of reparation. The inmost spirit of the Passionist Rule is the spirit of solitude, penanee, poverty, and prayer. In unforgettable language Saint Paul of the Cross described the spirit of his institute in a cir-cular letter which he sent to his religious for the Feast of Pentecost, May 2nd., 1750. "Most beloved Sons, you are dead, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. Therefore, as dead to all that is not °God, r~main in the most perfect detachment from all created things, in true poverty of spirit, and in detachment from sensible consola-tions. Assisted by the most holy grace of ,lesus, direct all your zeal to this end--to be recollected in interior solitude; then you will become true adorers of the Sovereign Good in spirit and in truth . Never withdraw from the holy Wounds of Christ, but ever strive 242 September, 1951 PASSIONISTIC SPIRITUALITY more and more that your souls become hidden in and entirely pene-trated by them." (Letters: Vol. IV, p. 226.) Saint Paul of the Cross was one of the most privileged of mys-tical souls with which God has endowed the Church, but his very mysticism bore the unique character of his vocation. For although he received the grace of the "transforming union" or "mystical mar-riage"-- the highest grace of mystical prayer--at a very early age, yet for over fifty years thereafter he continued in the profound suf-ferings of the Dark Night of the Soul, a fact which Father Garrigou7 Lagrange, O.P., calls almost unique in the lives of the saints. Because Paul of the Cross was a master of prayer, it is not to be wondered at that he should insist upon a spirit of constant prayer. for his followers. In his Rule .he states in the very first chapter that "Prayer is one of the chief objects of our Congregation." The Passionist Rule, as it is observed in our monasteries in the United States today, prescribes, beside the Divine Office, two hours of mental prayer each day--an hour in the morning, and an hour in the eve-ning. Including the time that is devoted to the Divine Office; the Passionist, in the daily routine of his monastic day, spends close' to five hours in prgyer. One of the features of Passionistic prayer is the observance of the night office, for Passionists rise ea, ch morning at two o'clock to chant Matins and Lauds before the Blessed Sacrament. This observ-ance lasts one hour, and the religious retire again at three, to rise once more at dawn for Prime and Tierce. This nocturnal observance is one of the cherished ~xercises of the penitential spirit bequeathed by Saint Paul of the Cross to his sons. In order that the spirit of prayer might always be preserved in the Congregation, Saint Paul prescribed most riggrously that Pas-sionist monasteries be built always in places of solitude, and with every safeguard that the spirit of solitude be not violated nor intruded upon. Hence, even when built in the heart of large cities, there must always be sufficient acreage for gardens and privacy for the solitary walks prescribed by rule. Many of our 'American "monasteries are now surrounded by teeming residential sections, but when they were built they stood alone, in the midst of solitude. The cities have come to the monasteries, but because of the wise prescriptions of the Rtile the spirit of solitude is still safeguarded. However, the spirit Of the Passionist Congregation is also a spirit of apostolic activity. As the present Superior General, Most Rev- 243 FIDELIS RICE Review for Religious erend Albert Deane, C.P., wrote in a recent circular letter to the Con-gregatio, n: "On the day it would cultivate the contemplative life ex-clusively, the Congregation would cease to be what 'our Holy Founder instituted. Nor could he be said to be a good Passionist, who without legitimate cause would'omit to do what he could to attain the apostolic end of our Congregation, although under the p.retext of better caring for his own salvation. His religious profes-sion demands otherwise of him." In this ~ame document, our Most Reverend Father General has beautifully epitomized the heart of the Passionistic spirituality: "For our spirit, dearest Sons, can be likened to a'pyramid, made of the spirit of prayer, penance, and the apostolate, but held together by the fire of devotion to Christ suffering, having no other apex to which the ~exalted Passionist life converges than our configuration to Christ Crucified, whom we must preach by word and by example: 'We preach Christ and Him Crucified.' This is what the words say which we carry engraven over our hearts; this reminds us, if perhaps we sometimes forget, of our very name itself, for we are popularly called 'Passionists'.',' . The primary work of the Passionist Congregation, then, is a reflection of its inner'spirituality--the preaching of popular mis-sions, and retreats to the clergy and religious, as well as to the laity. Passionists conduct no schools, except for the education i~f their own subjects. They engage in parish work only as an exception, and for clearly defined needs in a particular locality. They are above all, preachers of the Passion of 3esus Christ. To this end they take a special vow to promote in the hearts of others, devotion to the Pas-sion of oresus Christ. They do, however, engage in foreign mission work, and they are likewise working among the colored in the South. Saint Paul of the Cross was a staunch advocate of enclosed re-treats for the laity. Cherishing, as he did, the wonderful advan-tages of holy solitude, it is not surprising that he would wish to share these advantages and blessings with the laity. And so he wrote into his Rule the prescription that in each monastery rooms should be provided for lay retreatants. In most of our American monasteries we have special retreat houses for men, and a flourishing retreat movement is an integral part of our Passionist family life. Because Paul of the Cross was consumed by the love of Jesus Christ Crucified, he burned with the desire to bring the riches of His death to the souls of men. He was profoundly aware of the 244 September, 1951~ . PASSIONISTIC SPIRITUALITY meaning of the priestly vocation, and realized fully that a p~iest must always communicate to the Mystical Body 6f Christ the life purchased by the sufferings of Ouk Lord. But he knew, too, that the most fruitful apostolate is that which is the overflow of prayer, rather than a substitute for it. Hence it was that no matter how gifted a missionary might be, no matter how eloquent on the mission-platform, and no matter how great the demand for his services, Saint Paul of the Cross rig- . orously required that each missionary spend a suitable portion of.the year in the solitude and quiet of the monastery. Although far wise to reduce this to a mathematical formula, the founder of the Passionists imposed upon superiors and missionaries alike the obli-gation to. preserve always in the Congregation this time of with-drawal each year from the exhausting round of activity. The demands for our services have grown with the years, and no fixed calend,a'r tan be drawn up which governs the exact details, but our superiors still strive faithfully and sincere!y to arrange the schedule for-each mis-sionary, so that he may spend a sufficient amount of time.withih the mona.stery each year. Saint Paul of the Cross was profoundly con-vinced that "one Religious who is a. man of prayer and lover of solitude will bring forth more spiritual fruit from the ministry than a thousand others who are not such." (Letters, Vol. III, 418.) .,. The Passlonlst family circle is made up of three groups: tl~e priests, the students or clerics, "and the lay brothers. ¯ In most of our American monasteries all three groups are found, for most of our monasteries are also houses of study, or seminaries in which young men are preparing for the priesthood. Our lay brothers, a shitable time after the profession of their perpetual vows, are admitted to }ecreation with the priests; and the recreation is common ~f(;r these two groups. The students remain always in a separate r~creation. The day's horarium.is divided bet.ween prayer and study. The day is spent in silence, except for the two brief recreation periods each day. Three days of fast and abstinence are .observed each week-- Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday. During the entire time of Ad-vent and Lent, Sundays included, abstinence from meat is the rule within the monastery. Paul 6f the Cross does not want his sons to forget that t,hey must bd men of penance. For this reason, too, san-dals are worn on the bare feet, and a ro.ugh woolen h.abit is worn the year round. The Passionistic ideal;" then, is to share as intimately as possible 245 FIDELIS RICE. o in the sublime virtues which shone, forth so re~splendently on Cal-vary. It is the vocation proclaimed so sublimely by Saint Paul the Apostle in his Epistle to the Colossians: "Who now rejoice in my sufferings foF you, and fill up those things that are wanting of the sufferings of Christ in my flesh, for His body, which is the Church." (Colossians, 1:25.) So it was that that other P~ul, Paul of the Cross, sought to instill into his followers a burning love for the Crucified, a love which would make them conform their own lives by penance, solitude, prayer, and poverty, to the ideals of Calvary, that they might go forth to preach the glories and the ignominies of the Cross of Jesus Christ. The r~assionist spirit might be summed up in one word, "Stau-rosophy," for "stauros" is the Greek word for the Cross.; ,The sons of Paul o'f the Cross must remain ever absorbed by the wisdom or the "philc~sophy" of the Cross. Wisely has the Church selected the Introit for the Mass on the Feast of St. Paul of the Cross: "Christ0 confixus sum cruci." . "With Christ I am nailed to the cross." (Ga-latians, 2:19.) No other words of Sacred Scripture could epitomize more simply the ess.dntial spirit of this great lover of the Crucified, and of the form of life which he has bequeathed to his sons, who wear that habit of mourning first shown to Paul of the Cross in vision, by the Mother of God, when she told him to founc~ an order whose members would devote their lives to mourning for the sor-rows of Her Son. OUR CONTRIBUTORS F1DELIS RICE, writer and missionary, is on the mission band at St. Joseph's Passionist Monastery, Baltimore, Maryland. J. PUTZ, the editor Of Clergg Month-lg and author of Mg Mass, and P.DE LETTER, a recent contributor to American ecclesiastical journals, teach at St. Mary's theologate, Kurseong, India¯ RICHARD L. ROONEY is on the Queen's Work staff and editor of Action Now. C.A. HERBST and CLARENCE MCAULIFFE are o£ the faculty of St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, . , : PLEASE NOTE CAREFULLY The sul~scripfion pHce of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is now: $3.00"per year for" Domestlc.end ,Canadian subscriptions; $3.35 per yeer for all for~icjn subscrip-fio'ns. For further de~'ails please see inside back cover. 246 Modesty C. A. Herbst, S.J. ~4 ~t man's looks betray him: a man of good sense will make him-self known to thee at the first meeting; the clothes he wears, . the smile on his lips, his gait~ will all make thee acquainted with a man's character" (Ecclus. 19:26, 27. Knox version). This' is the Holy Spirit's description of modesty. Following His directive, St. Thomas teIIs us that this virtue is concerned with "the movement and actions of the body; that all of them, those gone through in fun as well as the serious ones, may be decent and proper." (Summa Theologica, 2-2, q. 160, a. 2.) Dress is also included. The cardinal virtue of temperance controls pleasure coming from food, drink, and ' sex, the most difficult things. Modesty, a part of temperance, takes care of the lesser. A subordinate in the hierarchy of authority takes ~in hand the little things. Modesty is therefore not at all the s~me thing' as chastity or purity, as many quite commonly presume, though it may be more or less connected with it. Not one's interior only but one's exti~rior, too, must be con-formed to the .norm of right reason. The easy and evident way for u_s to strive to achieve this is "to imitate Christ. "We must look with the eyes of the soul on that wonderful leader 'beautiful above the sons of men' in the ordinary dress He wore at home . Erect of body and with perfect composure His gait was neither too hurried nor too slow. There was nothing soft or effeminate, not.hiog childish or lackadaisical about Him. Neither could anything gloomy or exasperating be seen in Him, nor was there any assumed gravity. He was not singular nor finicky. His Whole being breathed sweetness, joy, kindness, majesty." (Le Gaudier, De Perfectione Vitae Spirit-ualis, Pars IV, caput xviii.). "Jesus began to do and to teach," first to tellus by His exampl~ how tb act, only later by His words. Our exterior modesty should be, as His, for the glory of God. "So let your light shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father who is in heaven." It should make us more like God. "God cre~ ~ted man to his 6wn image: to the "image of God he created him." Man's likeness to God is, of course, in the soul, in his interior sanc-tity, but that interior dignity and perfection should shine forth, so 247 ¯ C. A. HERBST Reoeiw [or Religiou~ to speak, in the ,modesty of his exterior as through a beautiful and translucent garment, or as the rays of the sun make a cloud all silver and gold. That "image of God" ou.ght somehow to be mani-fested in the body. "Because man's body alone of all the animals on earth is not bowed down to the ground but so made that it can better contemplate the heavens, it can justly be said' that it is made more t6 the image and likeness of God than the bodies of other animals, as Augustine says. But this must not be understood to mean that the image of God is in man's body but that the very form of. the human body represent.s the likeness of God in the soul like a trace." (S. Th., 1, ,q. 93, a. 6.) The importance of modesty in the life of a religious can hardly be overestimated. One is forced to this conclusion from reading the masters of the spiritual life and by noting the Christian tradition through the centuries. The statement made by St. Ambrose in this matter is a classic. "Modesty must be preserved in our very move-ment, carriage, and gait. Our habit of mind is reflected in our body. "Thence the real man hidden away in the heart, the light-headed 6r careless or turbulent man or, on the contrary, the more serious or steady or more upright or more mature man can be ascertained. The motion of the body, therefore, can be called the voice of ~he soul." (De Of Kciis, I, 18.) St. Bernard says: "Modesty is the greatest of orn~ments in reli-gious, especially in the young. This is so true that if they do not cherish it there is little hope of their becoming good or virtuous . Lack of external composure in the body is a sign of an indevout mind." (Ad Quid Venisti?, xvii.) Knowing how very closely bod~r and soul are united we are not surprised to hear Hugh of St. Victor say: "As of a wandering mind are born disordered move-ments of the body, so when the body is brought under discipline the soul is made strong. Little'by little the mind within is brought to rest when under the watchful eye of dis.cipline its disorderly move- "ments are not allowed to flow to the exterior." (Delnstttuttone' " " Novitiorum, X.) So exterior modesty m.akes even a greater contri-bution to the soul than it does to the body. St. Vincent Ferrer'thought that a warrior of Christ could never free his soul from disorder if he did not first endeavor to rid his body of what was unseemly. From all of which it would seem to be clear why modesty is so much emph.asized in the beginning of the re!igious life: modesty of action and, incidentally, "modesty of words," which 248 Septernber~ 195 l MODESTY is silence. Even a beginner.can superimpose upon himself external order in the blessed hope that from it will come to him an array of spiritual goods. For it is easier to bring one's exterior under subjec-tion than one's interior. Mqdesty has a great apostolic value. St. Basil says that a virgin should "be seen by those who n~eet her to be such in habit and gait and every movement as to reflect the likeness of God. The eyes of those who behoId her should be incited to modesty and their mind instructed in virtue. They.should hold that sight in honor and, as I have said, show deference to and revere that image of God. As pictures of' satyrs make one laugh and as sad pictures fill the mind , with sorrow . so a virgin, since she is the picture--nay, the very reproduction--of purity, should even if merely seen raise the thoughts of those who behold her up to God . Avirgin, therefore, should be very careful to reproduce in herself the divine image in all t.hings." (Patrologia Graeca, 30, 714-715.) St. Francis of Assisi was most eloquent by his modesty. "It is told ofthe blessed St. Francis that he said one day to his companion, ~'Let us go to preach,' and so went out, took a turn in the city, and returned home. His companion said to him: 'BUt father, are v~e not preaching?' 'We have already preached,' he answered. That sedate-ness and modesty with which they, went through the streets was a very good sermon; it moved people to devotion and to contempt of the world, to compunction for their sins, .and to the raising of their hearts, and desires to the.things of the next world. This is a sermon in action, more effectual than one in w6rd.". (Rodriguez, Practice of Perfection and Christian Virtues, II, x, 1.) The very sight of the young Saints Aloysius, Stanislaus, John Berchmans, and Gabriel of the Sorrowful Mother raised men's hearts to God. The gr.eat in-fluence for good of the pr.ayerfuI, recollected, and modest bearing of those who love God is but another striking instance of "actions speaking louder than words." That is why St. Ignatius said: "And hence it will follow that, considering one another, they will increase in devotion and praise our Lord God, whom every one must strive to acknowledge in another as in His image." (Constit. S.d., P. III, c. i, n, 4.) .The beginner must practice modesty, and by doing so he exer- Cises himself in many virtues. But modesty is also the mark of the perfect. A well-ordered exterior shows great interior'perfectlon. The man who has achieved this has already made great'prggr.ess. One 249 C. A. HER,BST Reveiu~ for Relig:ous who habitually and gracefully has his exterior under control has gone far in the direction of self-mastery. If one has to be mortified to be decent, as our novice master used to say, what constant mortifi-cation and vigilance must be necessary .to put on the modesty of Christ. For this, persevering and almost heroic self-conquest is neces-sary. In this connection it might be well to remark that if we put ourselves through the discipline and took all the pains from a super-natural motive to put on modesty, which is the etiquette of God's ch.ildren, that the children of .the world do to don good manners in public and social life, our merit would i~deed be surpassing great and our spirit of sacrifice supreme. "And they indeed that they may receive a corruptible crown; but we an incorruibtible one" .(I Cor. 9:25). But then, "the children of this world are wiser in their generation than the children of light" (Luke 16:8). Founders of religious orders have given special directives, "rules of modesty," for regulating external deportment. As those given by St. Ignatius of Loyola even now influence many thousands of reli-gious, it might be well to give some of them here. "All must be exactly careful to guard the gates of their senses (especially their eyes, their ears, and their tongue) from all disorder, and preserve themselves in peace and true internal humility, showing it in silence when it is to be kept, and when they have to speak, in the circum-spection. and, edification of their words, in the modesty of tbelr coun-tenance, gravity of their gait and whole carriage, without any sign of impatience or prided' (Constit. S.d., P. III, c. 1, n. 4.) "In all out-ward actions there should appear modesty and humility, joined with religious gravity. The bead should not be turned this way and that way lightly, but with gravity, when need shall require; and, if there be no need, it must be held straight, with a little inclination forward, without leaning on either side. For the most part, they should keep their eyes dowfi, neither immoderately lifting them up, nor casting them now one way., now another. Wrinkles on the forehead, and still more on the nose, are to be avoided, that there may appear out-wardly a serenity which may be a token of that which is interior. The whole countenance should show cheerfulness rather than sadness or any less moderate affection. The lips must neither be too much. shut nor too much open. The pace should be moderate, without any notable has,.te, unless necessity should require it; in which case, however, a care of decorum should be had. In fine, every gesture and movement should be such as to give edification to all men." (Rule~ 250 September, .MODESTY or: Modesty.). St. Paul says in another connection: "When I was a child,. I °spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child. But, when I became a man, I put away the tlSings of a child" (I Cor. 13: 11).'A child must hear and see and taste and smell and touch every-thing. But when he grows up he is willing to put away the things of a child--nay, is eager to. We can hardly imagine a grown-up going on playing with his toys. A man loses taste for such things. So is one as he becomes spiritually mature gradually weaned away, as he attains to th~ full stature of Christ, from the surface pleasure of the senses and the allurements of sense satisfaction. This is the more true the more he grows to relish the things of God. Then the curious ears and roving eyes and anything unbecoming in the countenance. carriage, and gait of childhood give place to that maturity and serenity proper to men and women at horhe with their Father the King. The practice of modesty is not only for religious propriety, or edification, or mortification, or to foster recollection, or to make pos-sible and encourage spiritual development and high interior activity. It is also to keep, our soul from becoming sick or maimed by venial sin or perhaps even killed by mortal sin. "Death is come .up through our windows" said the prophet (Jer.°9:21). St. Bernard comment~: "Death enters our windows when, with prying eyes and itching ears. we insist upon administering to ourselves the deadly cup of distrac-tion." (Sermo 24 in Cantic.) And St. Ambrose: "Who, midst so many bodily passions, midst so many snares of this world, can go along safe and undefiled? The eye sees: the mind is perverted. The ear bears: our attention is drawn away. We sm~ll something: our thoughts are 9bstructed. The lips drink: sin enters in. We touch" something, and we are inflamed with desire." (De Fuqa Saeculi, cap. 1.) That is why Christ, so mindful of human, weakness, instituted for the very end of life a special sacrament for the removal of the re-mains of sin contracted through seiase experience. At the last anointing the priest places the~holy oil "'on the eyes because of sight, on the ears because of hearing, on the nostrils because of smell, on the mouth bedauseof taste and speech, on the hands because of touch, on the feet because of Walking" (Council of Flore~nce, Decretum pro .Arrnenis) saying: "By this holy anointing and.by His most tender mercy may the Lord forgive you whatever guilt you have con- 251 C. A. HERBST tracted." St. Thomas explains: "This sacrament was instituted to" heal us. For a bodily cure we do not take medicine that will restore the whole body but those parts in which the root of the disease lies~ So the sacramental anointings should be made only on those parts where is found the root of the spiritual sickness." (S. Th., Suppl. q. 32, a. 5.) In conclusion, let us listen.again to a few words from that great master of the spiritual Jife, St. Bernard. "With the brethren be re-served, gracious, modest, affable, gentle, and on your guard. Be .strict with yourself but not in such a way as to be a nuisance to others . Every gesture and word, your way of acting, look, gait should be characterized by modesty and reserve. Let there appear nothing con-ceited or stilted in you, no boldness or anything overbea.ring . As the fear of the Lord puts order into a man's lif~ and prepares his whole interior for blessedness, so modesty brings his exterior under subjection. You should not become so familiar with anyone as to be completely forgetful of propriety in his presence." (Ad Quid Venisti?, xvii.) After all, "we are made a spectacle to the world, and to angels, and to men'~ (I.Cor. 4:9). And His Divine Majesty is always pres-ent, too. "In him we live, and move, and are" (Acts 17:28); ETUDE SUR LA PAUVRETE RELIGIEUSI: The Sisters of Providence (Les Soetirs de la Providence) in Montreal have "trans-lated into French six articles on poverty which appeared in the REVIEW FOR RELI-GIOUS and published them in a booklet. The articles are: "M~y Religious Buy and Sell" (V, 50) and the "Gifts to Religious" series by Adam C. Ellis, S.J.; and 'The Spirit of Poverty" (VIII, 35) by" Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. The "Gifts" se-ries includes: "The Simple Vow of Poverty" (VI, 65), "Common Life and Pe-culium" (VII, 33), "Personal versus Community Property" (VII, 79, and "Some Practical Cases" (VII, 195). Copies of the booklet, called Etude sur la Pauvret3 2eliqleuse, may be obtained from P~ovidence Mother House, 2311, rue Ste-Cath-erine Est, Montreal 24, P.Q., Canada. Cost: 40 cents per single copy; 35 cents in dozen lots or more. ¯PLEASE NOTE C~AREFULLY The subscription price of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is now: $3.00 per veer for Domestic end Cenedian subscriptions: $3.35 per year for ell foreign subscrip-tions. For further deteils pleese see inside beck cover. 252 The race ot: Our Vocal:ion P. De Letter, S.J. [EDITORS' NOTE: In the March number of this year the author of "Why Do They Leave?" concluded the article with an inspiring section headed "Why Do We Stay?" In the present article Father De Letter's analysis of the grace of our voca-tion forms something of a theological counterpart and complement to the latter question. He points out the different graces included in the grace of vocation, namely, the grace of state, the grace of perseverance, the grace of progress, the grace of keeping the rules, and the grace of supererogation. He next gives the solid theological basis for trust in the grace of vocation and concludes by describing God's part, the actual graces of light" and strength, and ours, the conditions for our 'trust. "I will put great trust in the grace of my vocation," wrote St. John Berch-roans among the first of his watchwords. It is of this gr~ice of vocation that Father De Letter writes.] ~i~/JE 'OFTEN HEAR or read about the grace of our religious W" vocation. No doubt we often thank Our Lord for this most precious 6f His gifts. Wi~at exactly is it? Spiritual au-thors use the phrase in a twofold sense, first as the free divine gift by which God calls to the religious life, and secondly as the special helps of grace which enable religious, who have followed the divine call, to meet the demands of their state and to persevere in it till death. 'The second meaning, that of the special helps, of the grace of our vocation will be used. This grace is a reality of our everyday life.,If we allow it to play its part to the full, it may and does make a difference for our own pe£sonal interests and for the souls for whom we labor. For this reason it is well worth studying more closely what the grace of vocation implies and what is the basis of our trust in it. Then it' will be self-evident how we should exploit this God-sent treasure. Grace of State All religiogs, we are told, are offered and receive the grace proper to their vocation. As any other Christians, those who are called to a definite state of life with its definite purpose are offered by the Lord the graces necessary to pursue ,effectively the end of their vocation. This is true both of the general l~urpose of every religious life, which is to seek after Christian perfectioia.or holiness, and of the specific end of each particular order or congregation. Grdce of" Perseuerance in God's Friendship ¯ First'of all, religious are offered and, unless they'wilfully refuse, ~.ctual!y recei~re the actual graces needed to remain permanently on the path thatleads to perfection, "that is, to persevere in sanctifying grace. 253 P. DE LETTER Review for Religious These graces are needed. Theologians commonly teach that without the help of God's grace no one can maintain himself in His friend-ship, because fallen human nature is weak and inclined to evil. But these graces are always offered, theologians reassure us, to all who sincerely endeavour to 'please God and to preserve His love and friendship. And why? Because God's love is faithful: He does not allow to be sr~atched from His hands those who sinqerely desire to be His. If that is the case for all Christians in the state of grace, then it is more true for those whom a special divine call ~lestines for an ever growing perfection of grace. Religious, therefore, m~y count in a special way, by virtue of their very state in life, on the fidelity of the Giver of all graces. He enables them day after day and hour after hour throughout their religious life to avoid every grievous fault. Grace of Progress There is more than that. It is the fundamental duty of state for religious to advance continually in grace and perfection. That again is not possible without the help of God's grace. Our faith teaches us,. infallibly, that no good work for heaven can be performed with-out God;s gracious help. If that is so, and if religious grow in grace precisely by the works of virtue ' (and the reception of the sa.crame,nts, which grace enables them to do properly), then we must say that their Fathe~ in heaven, who is Love, cannot expect them to do thes~ works and not give them the needed help which He alone can give. That is why religious have and receive the graces necessary for the good works that are to lead them on to perfection, the goal of their vocation. ' Grace of Keeping the Rules and Obeying What are these good works? They are, naturally, commanded by the specific end of each religious institute. Concretely, they are laid down in the rules and constitutions: these outline the particular manner in which a religious vocation is to work out its ideal of Christian perfection, These laws and ways, therefore, differ for different institutes.' Hospital sisters, teaching religious, and contem-platives, are not expected to labour for perfection by exactly the same good works. Their respective rules point out to them "by which paths they are'to draw nearer to God. To follow these pathh ~nd no other, each one in the particular.office that is assigned him by the inst.itu, te and. in the community where obedience placed him, .is pnmista.kably the du.ty of state of. every re, ligious. And so all.~e.li- 254 September, 1~ 1 THE GRACE OF OUR VOCATION gious are offered each day the necessary grace to keep the rules and-fulfil their office: because fidelity to these duties is the concrete way for them to advance towards perfection and fidelity is not possible without these graces. Not every Christian, theologians teach, is at all times offered the grace needed for good works which are not of precept but are supererogatory, because, there is no clear indication that God's will demands these works from them. Only for such good works as are certainly willed by the Lord may we expect His grace to be guaran-teed. But the case of religious is a special one. Though the good ~works demanded by their rules are not, genera'lly speaking, strictly of precept (not at any rate when the religious laws do not bind under pain of sin) and are therefore in a true sense supererogatory, yet the very nature of religious rule implies that God clearly wills those works. His good pleasure and desire is expressed in the rules. By that very fact He also guarantees to ~eligious the necessary graces, ;¢¢ithout which they would be unable to comply with His good pleasure. , This conclusion applies equally to the acts of virtue which obedi-ence to superiors imposes on religious. Commands of religious supe-riors generally (exception being made for orders given in virtue of holy obedience, in whicJ~ the vows are involved) bring to their sub-jects the same kind of obligatiofi as the rules impose. As such, therefore, they do not bind under sin; yet they express to us unmis-takabl~ y the divine wishes. Religious receive the necessary actual graces for obeying the orders of their superiors as they do for keeping the rules. Though these acts of virtue, because not imposed under sin, are supererogatory in the strict sense of the word, yet they are, for religious, guaranteed as possible by the grace of their vocation. "Grace for Supererogatory Acts of Virtue There are additional virtuous actions which are not demanded of religious by rule nor by orders of superiors, but to which, they believe, a special inspiration of the Hgly Ghost invites them. Such good works, for example, extra .acts of mortification, or prayer, or humility, or kindness, are altogether free in the sense that no rule nor direction of obedience imposes them. These are not immediately covered by the grace of the religious vocation. To them will apply the teaching of theologians about supererogatory good works: not unless the invitation of God's grace be sufficiently proved genuine and ?eliablecan they count on His special help to follow up these inspira- 255 P. DE LETTER Review for Religtous tions. It should be added, however, that religious are, from their very state of. life, more opeh to these special invitations of grace. Why?" Because their fundamental duty of state is to aspire after perfection, and not all particulars that appertain to the practice of perfection are or can be determined by the rules or by obedience. Accordingly, religious need these special inspirations. Other things being equal, there is a greater probability that in the case of religious these inspirations of grace are genuine and reliable. To that extent and in that 'indirect way they also belong to the grace of the voca-tion. At this juncture the task of the spiritual director comes in to provide rehglous with sufficient guarantee that allows them safely to follow up these interior invitations. Without this sanction the danger of self-delusion would be real. That danger is excluded from all that falls within clearly known duty. Herein religious may and must depend on it that grace will not be wanting them, if only they themselves are not wanting to grace. Why is it so? Whai: is the dogmatic and theological basis of our trust in the grace of o.u.r vocation? Doctrinal Basis of Our Trust We have already hinted at the intrinsic reason why the grace of our vocation includes all the particular graces needed to fulfill our duties according to the rules and constitutions and the commands of the superiors. It is the following. God cannot command the impos-sible, because of His infinite wisdom and lo,;,e. Of religious He asks a constant strivin~g after perfection: that is the meaning of the reli-gious vocation. They find the concrete way to strive for perfection detailed in the laws of their institutes and the directions of their supe-riors. But to do all that is involved in keeping the rules and in obeying, many good works are needed which no man, religious not excepted, is able to do without the help of grace.: For two reasonsi both because these virtuous actions require a faithful effort which after original sin is not possible for long without grace; and because these acts are supernatural and of their very nature suppose the super-natural help of grace. If then God expected religious to live up to the demands of their vocation and did not at the s~me time give them ~he necessary graces, He would be demanding the impossible. Dogmatic Foundation The. ultimate foundation of this conclusive proof is nothing less than the highest possible authority on revealed truth: ,the infallible 256' ,September, 1~51 THE GRACE OF O~JR VOCATION teaching of the Church. The Council of Trent defined that it is not impossible for men to keep God's commandments; it condemned the contrary assertion of the Lutherans as heretical doctrine (DB 828). In St. Augustine's words the Council explained how men can, in spite of fallen nature's weakness, have the moral strength to do what God commands: "When He commands, He admonishes you to do what you can and to ask for help to do what you cannot, and He helps so that you can" (DB 804). Later. the Church condemned another heretical proposition of dansenistic pessimism which stated that "just men cannot keep some precepts of God even though they wish and try to do so, with the strength they now have; and the graze which would enable them to keep those commandments is also lacking" (DB I092). An infallible teaching, therefore, guarantee, s that we have the necessary graces to keep the commandments. That teaching aimed directly at those divine precepts which oblige under pain of sin, particularly of mortal sin. It may also be extended, though this conclusion is no longer infallible, to divine commands in a less strict serise of the word: to those expressions of the divine will which, though not binding under sin, .yet certainly manifest His desire ind. good pleasure. The Church's Authorit~I This latter is the case, as we well know, of the ordinary religious rules. We have a guarantee for it in the Church's approval both of religious life in general and of the particular religious institutes. The ¯ Church's sanction of the state oflife lived accordin'g to the three evangelical counsels is found in her age:old practice, which dates back td the early Cbristlan centuries, of approving and encouraging tbe monastic institute and the ascetical life. At the time of the Refor-mation it led to an infallible pronouncement, again at the Tridentine Council, by which she declared that the state of viriginity or celibacy is preferable to the state of Matrimony (DB 980). As to the appro-bation of particular institutes, theologians today are agreed in saying that in the solemn approval of religious orders the doctrinai judg-ment that the religious orders,, are apt means to reach Christian per-fection is covered by the Church's infallibility. In the less solemn .confirmation of other religious institutes, the Church's authority in-' volved is not the big.best; yet. that.approval also shares, according.to .the. degree, of the authority" that gives it, in the same fundamental guar.ant~.e:.of truth which is divine. Accordi,ngly? Catholic theology ¯' 257 P. DE LETTER Review for Religious is unanimous, in declaring that the obligation for religious to work for perfection according to the pattern designed in their respective laws is, because of the Church's approbation, the'clear expression of God's will for them. "On this doctrinal foundation rests the teaching of theologians who, like Suar~z, hold that the grace of a religious vocation includes the spe.cial supernatural aids required to live up to the ideal which is proposed to the religious by their institute. He wrote: "Since all ap-proved religious orders are deservedly regarded as founded by the special Providence of God, there is no doubt that each enjoys a'spe-cial divine assistance proportionate to its vocation, and hence greater in proportion as its institute is more exalted and difficult and organ-ized for the greater service of God and the more far-reaching good of the Church" (Rel. S.J., I, 6, 9). What holds good for reli-gious orders as a whole, also applies to the members. The graces of their vocation which effectively enable them to pursue the end of their institute are the concrete expression of the divine assistance that flows from God's special Providence over them. Religious, therefore, are building .their trust on the safe rock of Peter when they firmly believe in the grace of their vocation. More-over, does not the experience of the religioh~ life come to teach them that the Lord does not disappoint that trust? When and in the measure that they are faithful to their calling, they find out what these graces of our vocation mean in practice. Graces of Light and Strength As actual graces in general, so the graces of our vocation are of two kinds which, more often perhaps, are found together rather than isolated. First there is light for the mind, generally more affective and practical" than purely sp~e~uiative and cold (for they are meant to lead to action), by which the meaning and reality of the religious ideal, duties, privileges, favors, appear more clearly, more appealingly, and more exaltedly worthwhile. These' actual graces of light, on occa-sion standing out very markedly, at other times more dim yet really present, give a deeper and new understanding of the rules, of the ideal of poverty; chastity, obedience, of the community life and of our daily tasks of education, missionary work, medical charity, sacred "ministry so that the good works by which religious strive after sand-tity. take on their deep, often hidden, meaning. Together with that light goes a grace of strength and courage for'the will and heart, 25'8 September, 1951 THE GRACE OF OUR VOCATION tempering and steeling one"s whole moral an~ spiritual structure, actually enabling religious to live according to their light. These graces of fortitude, patience, and ability, make Jrpossible to keep up ¯ the effort for progress, and bravely and gladly to accept and take up the small and on occasion bigger crosses involved in the faithful ful-filment of their daily duties. These graces of strength, at times ex-perienced more forcibly, at other times, perhaps more commonly, perceived in humble and dim faith, smoothen the path towards per-fection which often is rough and always uphiIl. The remembrance of these graces received in the past is a precious confirmation" of Our faith and trust in the grace of our vocation. Condition of Our Trust That faith and trust is rightly ours on one condition: that we do, sincerely and hum.bly, what in us lies to answer the graces we receive. There is little need to insist on the first and foremost part in this cooperation with grace which we may take for granted, namely, that we live in the state of sanctifying grace. Progress in grace supposes the st'ate of grace. Unless the substance of the spiritual life be there, we cannot expect further grace~ for progress. These graces, according to the ordinary rule of Divine Providence, are usually given in proportion to oui" fidelity in accepting and answering them. One way of showing this desire of receiving and exploiting those graces is our faithful and insisting prayer for them. According to the hint of the Council of Trent we quoted above, our asking for graces may well be the condition for receiving them. We may even count on the abundant divine aids guaranteed by the grace of our vocation if we sincerely and generously trade for spiritual profit with those we receive. No doubt even then no one can vouch for it that he will never fail God's grace, even though grace does not fail him. We know it too well, human frailty remains in religious as well. And we need not be surprised at our daily faults of weakness which, we may confi-dently hope, involve but little guilty negligence. Provided. only we know how to exploit those very failings to deepen humility and a sense of our need of prayer and trust in the Lord, they do not seri-ously impair our fidelity to grace. Our desires and deeds continue then to express our sincere gratitude for God's great gift, our call to the religious life. Then we may and must always count on the grace of our vocation. 259' A Vocational Newspaper [Contact, a bright, four-page, two-year-old vocational newspaper from the arch-diocese of Boston, may be of interest to readers of the REVIEW who are not ac-quainted with it. The following description was written by a staff member of the publication. For further information write to: Director of Vocations, Room 622, 185 Devonshire St., Boston, M~,ss. ED.] Maintaining that "Personal contact between an interested priest or religious and a good potential candidate becomes the only real vocation program," Father Francis A. Barry, director of vocations in the Boston archdiocese, thought that a vocational newspaper might provide a natural occasion for conversation or 'even extended talks on religious vocations. The paper was given the significant name: Contact. Experience has shown the idea was a 'good one. Contact, a monthly during the school year, began publicati.o.n in October, 1949. His Excellency, the Most Reverend Richard J. Cushing, Archbishop of Boston, the founder of the special vocational program, is the adv.isory editor. The editor is Father Barry. He is assisted by eight associate, a makeup, and ten contributing editors. The latter include diocesan and religious priests, Brothers, and Sisters who write columns, features, reviews, and editorials. His Excellency financed the project during its initial year. The religious orders and congregations having houses in the archdiocese shared the major ex-pense since then. , Distributed gratis" to pupils of parochial or other Catholic schools, from the seventh grade through the senior year in school as well as to Sunday schools, rectories, and seminaries, the circulation now tops 50,000." Increased solely by ~ear-say advertising, the mailing li~t now re'aches out to thirty-one s.tates, the Philippine's, Cuba, Italy; France and Canada. The italicized, three-column, colored logotype carries the triple message: Information, Inspiration, and Action. To attract the young people's attention, each issue is printed with bright color spots, ac.cording to the season or month. Adjacent to some of the standing heads appears a small portrait of the editor of the column, showing his religio.us habit ahd giving his name and address. Feature pictures and action shots of'the apostolate of teaching or social service highlight each issue. Provocative headlines dot the pages: It Seems to Me . Horizons, Meet. some religious com- 260 September, 1951 COMMUNION FOR OTHERS ~nunity, Looking Out . thought from the seminary or the novi-tiate, Do You KnoW?, Parents" Column, and Around tile Diocese. Parochial high school reporters keep copy flowing to the desk of the editor of the last-mention~ed column. Contact reiterates the words of His Holiness, Pope Pius XII: "This vcJcation, thisloving call makes itself heard in manydifferent ways, as many as the infinite variety of accents in which the Divine Voice may speak: irresistible invitations, affectionate and repeated promptings,gentle impulses."--SISTER MARY REGINA, S.S.,J. Offering Communion t:or.Ot:hers Clarence McAuliffe, S.3. SISTER LOUISA sat placidly at her desk filling out the spiritual bouquet. It was the community's gift to Sistdr Mercedes who was to make her p~ofession next day. Sister Louisa was adding her contribution to the various specified good works-- rosaries, s{ations, visits, penances,, aspirations, Masses, Communions. It was an easy and congenial task and she contributed generously. But when she had finished, she found a question e.ngaging her mind,. a question she had never asked herself before. She had added five to the total of Commuriions to be offered for Sister Mercedes. 3ust what did it mean to offer Communion for somebody else? She ~had been doing it for many years. Her relatives and friends were always pleased when she told them that she would offer her Communion for them. Yet she had to confess now that she really did not know what she meant wh'en she told them that'she would offer her Communion for their intention. Many religious besides Sister Louisa have been puzzled by the same question. Nor is its answer easy to find. The purpose of this article is to clarify what we mean when we tell others that we are going to offer our Communion for them. It is important to remember that Communion produces certain effects that are inalienable. For instance, Communion automatically increases sanctifyin~ grace and most probably has the power,to con-fer more of this grade than any other sacrament. We do not transfer 261 - CLARENCE MCAULIFFE Ret~ieto for R'eligious any of this to others when we offer our Communion for them. Again, the increase of active love for Go~t and our neighbor which is the .special effect of the Eucharist and which depends on the fervor of our thanksgiving, is not surrendered by offering Communion for somebo~ly else. So too, the strength to resist temptations, the cooling of disordered feelings, since these are special though secondary effects of Communion and depend also on the fervor of one's thanksgiving, are incommunicable. The same is t6 be said of the additional right to a glorious bodily resurrection which is acquired by the worthy reception of Communion. Finally, the remission of venial sins which results automatically from Communion, if the recipient has sincerely revoked all wilful attachment to them, cannot be transferred to any other person. From all this it is ~lear that the principal benefits accruing from the Lord's Table remain with the communicant. In fact it might appear that no spiritual gifts remain which can lend real meaning to our promise to offer Communion for somebody else. But there are. When we ~o to Holy Communion we ordinarily do extra praying and a certain ambunt of mortification. We make a suitable prepara-tion and thanksgiving. We also fast beforehand. Now we all know that prayer and fasting are subjective acts of virtue, ~nd when made by a person in the state of grace, they have a three-fold value in the sight of God. For the sake of brevity, the theologians use tbre'e tech-nical words to express this three-fold efficacy. They say 'it is "meri-torious, satisfactbry, and impetrative." What they mean is that every act of virtue wins more sanctifying grace (meritorious efficacy), removes some temporal punishment (satisfactory), and pleads with God for spiritual and temporal favors (impetrative). In addition, therefore, to the sanctifying grace which comes spontaneously from each Communion, a person also gets more sanc-tifying grace from his acts of virtue elicited before and after receiving the sacrament. Since we can never give one iota of sanctifying grace, no matter by what means it is acquired, to another person, it is evi-dent that the grace proceeding from these acts of virtue at Commun-ion time is also retained by the communicant. However, the satisfactory and impetrative efficacy of these acts may be relinquished in favor of others when we offer Communion for them. Suppose we consider first the gift we make when we hand over the satisfactory fruits of our Communions. Ordinarily we are able to make a fitting preparation for the 262 oep*e,noer, I95 ! COMMUNION FOR OTHERS reception of Holy Communion. Not only do we fast, rise early, kneel down, but we also make acts of faith, hope, confidence, desire, humility, and perhaps acts of perfect love for God. Now each of these acts of penance and of prayer, by reason of our good subjective dispositions which accompany them, has the power to take away some temporal punishment. Moreover, since we are the ones who do the penance and say the prayers, we have the right to have our otot~ temporal punishment lessened by them. What happens, then, when we offer Communion for another? We transfer this incalculable benefit to the other party and, if he is in the state of grace, he receives it. The same is to be said of'the~ prayers we say at the moment when we receive our divine Lord and during the time that He remains pres-ent within us. We communicate the satisfactory value of all these prayers to the other person. Instead of shortening our own purga-tory we shorten the purgatory of another. We', so to speak, suffer vicariously and gratuitously for some one who has no real claim to our sacrifice. If we reflect for a moment, we shall also understand why the satisfactory efficacy of these virtuous acts preceding, accompanying, and following Holy Communion exceeds that produced by the same acts elicited at some other time. We suppose, of course, that our fer-vor (and by that we refer not to our feelings, but to our acts of will) would be equal in both instances. We shall also understand why Communion remits more temporal punishment than other prayers listed in a spiritual bouquet--for example, rosaries or visits to the chapel. We take for granted, of course, that our cooperation would be equally diligent and that the same number of acts of virtue would be made. Otherwise it could easily happen that a rosary re-cited devoutly and animated by many acts of virtue would remit more temporal punishment than a Communion prepared ~or and received listlessly and negligently. Buy other thin~s being on a par, there is an objective reason why Holy Communion should take away more temporal punishment than the rosary or other pious works. The truth of this statement rests .on the fact that ordinarily the acts of virtue we make in connection with Communion are more fer-vent (here again we do not refer to feelings of fervor) and more numerous than those evoked by other works of piety. This is pa.r-ticularly tru~ of the prayers we say during our thanksgiving' after Communion. And it should be noted that temporal punishment is 263 CLARENCE MCAULIFFE Review for Religious canceled in proportion to the fervor and number of our.tSrayers. But why should our prayers after Communion be more fervent? Because Christ is then physically present within us. As a result of His sacramental presence, both the number and the quality of the actual grac'es showered upon us are ~uperi6r to those which necessarily accompany every pious supernatural work. After Communion our Savior inserts a continuous stream of vivifying actual graces into our minds and hearts, and these graces have as their general object, not to arouse merely confidence or faith or humility, but love itself, the most noble of all the virtues. If we ponder these facts, we shall. readily see. why our prayers after Communion have a singular power to reduce the debt of punishment incurred by somebody else. So much for th~ satisfactory value of Holy Communion. We can be comparatively brief in treating of the sacrament's impetrati've fruit because it rests on the same principles we have been discussing. By offering Communion for others, v~e also mean that we trans-mit to them the petitional power of both our preparation and thanksgiving. The very same acts of virtue have not only a satis-factory, but also a pleading or intercessory value. They implore God to brant spiritual and temporal f~vors. Here again, since we are the ones who do the praying, we are the one~ who have a right to obtain the favors. But we,relinquish this right in fav~)r of other~ when we offer our Communion for them. We forget our own needs; we fore-go some benefits that would surely come to ourselves. ~re sacrifice ourselves for the other party. Of course, we must remind ourselves again that we cannot surrender those benefits that flow spontaneously from the Sacrament, such as the remission of venial sins, the growth in love for God and other people, the new title to everlasting glory and the curbing of unruly impulses. But there are many other spiritual and temporal favors that every person needs. There are .many that we ourselves need, even though we often do.not know precisely what" they are. Yet we forget our-. selves and transfer the intercessory vigor of our Communions to others when we offer Communion for them. It is like writing a let-ter of recommendation f6r som~ one else to obtain a benefit that you yourself need and have a right to; and it is a letter of recommenda-tion that you know is certain to be heeded. It is well to remember also that this impetrative efficacy of~Com-reunion is likewise of exceptional ~luality, just as the satisfactory efficacy, and for the same reason. The number and kind of actual 264 September, I~51 COMMUNION FOR OTHERS graces stirred up in the soul after. Communion exceed those accom-panying other good works. .Consequently if we co-operate with them, our acts of virtue will be correspondingly more fervent so that their pleading value is enhanced. Unfortunately, most of us probably do not pray explicitly "after Communion for the person for whom' we offer the Communion. This is, of course, not necessary since our intention made beforehand suffices to obtain for the otber~the satisfactory and impetrative fruits of the sacramefit. However, if we do remember to pray expressly for the' other person after we have received Communion, we shall un-doubtedly increase the value of our gift for him. It stands to reason that our Savior' listens to our. requests with a more willing ear when He is actually present within us with His Sacred Humanity. We recommend, therefore, the practice of praying explicitly after receiving Communion for the person to whom we relinquish the benefits. We may even ask Our Savior to grant certain spedfic favors, especially spiritual ones, to the other party. In conclusion, then, we cannot give away to anyone else the ¯ principal fruits of our Holy Communions. These we have itemized in the beginnihg. In addition to those listed, we might also add that when an indulgence is granted for the reception of Communion or for some prayer said,before or after receiving the Sacrament, we can-not offer it for another living person. Nevertheless, we do a singular favor foi others .when we offer a Communion for their intention. We sacrifice'for theirbenefit the satisfactory and impetrative fruits which are won by our acts of virtue preceding, accompanying, and follow-ing Holy Communion. MEDICO-MORAL PROBLEMS Medico-Moral Problems, Part III, by Gerald Kelly, S.J., contains complete dis-cussions of euthanasia, therapeutic abortion, organic transplantation,, and adult baptism. Also included are discussions of co-operation in illicit operations, the delivery of a. hydrocephalic infant, and lobotomy for pain relief. The booklet is published by the Catholic Hospital Association of the United States and Canada, 1438 South Grand'Blvd., St. Louis 4, Mo. 50 cents a copy; 12 for $5.25; 50 for $,20;' 100 for $37.50. Parts I and II can be obtained at the same place and at the same prices. 265 uestdons and Answers --20- An unexpected opportunity has arisen to sell a piece o{ communlt~ property {or $100,000, which is much more than we could get for it under normal circumstances. But the property must be transferred.withln ten days, otherwise the offer will be wlfhdrawn. VVhat shall we do about gefflng permission of the Holy See? Fortunately His Excellency, the Apostolic Delegate, now has faculties from the Sacred Congregation of Religious to permit the contracting of loans, sales, and alienations of property belonging to a religious institute, when the sum involved does not exceed a half million gold dollars, provided that the conditions laid down in canons 534 and 1531 be observed. We take this opportunity to inform our readers that the Sacred Congregation of Religious has also granted two other special facul-ties to the Apostolic Delegate: to dispense.religious for the reception of Holy Communion from the obligation of the Eucharistic fast so that they may take something by way of drink or m. edicin~, when their physician considers the keeping of the fast injurious to their health; also to shorten or prolong the postulancy prescribed by the Code of Canon Law (see Bouscaren, Canon Lau2 Digest, Supplement 1943-1948, p. 131, under canon 858). m2 I-- I have heard that permission of the Holy See is required {or th~ aliena-tion of notable relics and images. Is it proper ÷o infer that relics and ¯ venerated images may be bought and sold? Does his include sacred vessels? To .buy and sell is only one form of alienation. Hence it does not follow as a general rule that relics and venerated images may be bought and sold simply because the Holy See at times gives permis-sion to alienate such things. Since three distinct things are included in this question we think it advisable to treat each class separately. Relics. Canon 1289 states very plainly: "It is unlau~[ul (nefas) to sell sacred relics." To do so would be to commit a sin of simony. However, it would not be sinful to charge and pay for the metal case in which the relics are usuhlly inclosed. Canon 1281, § I tells us that "notable relics or precious images, and likewise all relics or images 266 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Which are honored in any church with great devotion on the part of the people, cannot be alier~ted validly nor transferred permanently to another church without the permission of the Holy See." What is me~tnt by notable relics? Paragraph two of canon 1281 gives us a list of notable relics: the body, head, arm, forearm, heart, tongue, hand, leg, or that part of the' body in which the martyr suffered, provided it be "entire and" not too small." Such relics may not be alienated without the permissi6n, of the Holy See. Since it is for-bidden to sell. relics, alienation here must be taken in its other meaning, that is, to give away, to lend, and the like. The permission of" the Holy See would be required also to alienate relics which °are not notable; provided that they are honored in a church with great devotion on the part of the faithful. Small relics in the possession of private persons do not come under canon 1281, but they may never be sold. Precious [maqes. Ecclesiastical goods (church property) are shid to be.precious,when they have a ~pecial value by reason of artistic, historical, or material content (canon 1497, § 2). An image is said to be precious if it was painted by a great artist, or was made of precious materials, and has a notable valu&, that'is, over 1000 gold life (about $335 in our present money). Such images, as well as others which are not precious but which may be called venerable because of the great devotion of the faithful towards them, may not be alienated without the permissiqn of the Holy See. Sacred Vessels. Things are said to be sacred when they are .destined for divine worship by reason of their consecration or con-stitutive blessing. Canon 1305 tells us that "an article of sacred equipment which is blessed or consecrated loses its blessing or conse-cration . . . if it has been put to degrading uses 6r has been exposed for public sale." On the other hand, canon 1539 states that "in the sale or exchange of sacred things no account of the consecration or blessing is to be taken in determining the price." We may say, there-fore, that sacred vessels may be sold privately by one individual to another, or by one moral person to another (a church or community to another church or community) provided no extra charge is made for the blessing or consecration. But sacred things may not be exhibited publicist for sale without losing tbeir blessing or consecra-tion. This applies principally to auction sales and to the placing of a sacred object in the window or in the show case of a store open to the public. 267 QUEST, IONS AND A .NSWERS Reuieu) for'Religious We may conclude by adding that a consecrated chalice and paten do not lose their consecration'by being regilded (canon 1305, § 2). May exfreme unction be admlnls+ered before any major opera÷ion? For the valid reception of extreme unction the subject must be in " danger of death ¯from sickness or old age. If the person who is to, undergo major surgery is already in this condition, he is capable of receiving the sacrament before the operation. It may be that this is ge~nerally the case, but it is not necessarily so. Some operations which may entail a great deal of danger are performed for removing some chronic condition which might not become dangerous, without the operation, for a long time. Such patients cannot be anointed before the operation. In practice, it is not easy to decide whether to anoint a person. before an operation or t6 hwait the outcome of the operation. ¯ There is no universally-established practice; nor could there be: Some patients are clearly not capable of receiving the sacrament before the operation; others are clearly capable; and still others are "borderline cases." Moreover, the pastor or chaplain has not merely to decide whether the patient can be validly anointed l~ut also to judge when the anointing would be most appropriate and beneficial. Our ¢ons+ffufions +el[ us +ha+ "[eff~rs fo +he S~s+ers as well as +hose senf by +hem shall pass +hrough ÷he hands of +he superior who may read +hem," In view of +hls s+a+emen+, may a eAenera[ chap+er eAranf +o 9olden jubilaHans +he prlvllecAe' of seal[n~ +belt leffers before ~ivlng ÷hem ÷o +hl superlor7 "-['he general chapter has no power to change the constitutiofis, unless the constitutions themselves give it that power, which is not likely. On the other hand, since the constitutions' do not oblige the superior 'to read all letters which pass through her hands, the general chapter could recommend that superiors refrain from reading the letters of golden jubilarians, but it could not take away the right to read them which is contained in the constitutions. The general chapter may likewise request that the constitutions be changed in this matter, if that be the wish of the majority. Such a request for a change in the constitutions would be made to the local ordinary in the case of a diocesan congregation, or to the Holy See (Co.ngrega-tion of Religious) in the case of a pontifical institute. 268 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Ret~iew /:or Religious m24-- Is the novice master to be present at the discussion of the general council which follows upon his report on the novices who are preparing for first professlon? Canon 563 reads as follows: "During the course of the year of novitiate, the master of novices, conformably to the constitutions, must present to the .chapter or the higher superior a report con-cerning the conduct of each of the novices." Strictly speaking there-fore, the master of novices makes his report to the chapter (in inde-pendent monasteries! or to the higher superior, but not directly to the gefieral council, unless the constitutions prescribe this. Hence a written report should be given the higher .superior who, in turn, will communicate it to the general council. Many constitutions have an article based on art. 300 of the Norrnae which says that "whenever in the general council the novices or the novitiate is discussed, the mistress should be called, who will make known her mind on the subject under discussion, or submit opportune information." There will be no need (and certainly no obligation) for the master of novices to remain at the council session after he has given the infor-mation prescribed by canon 563. If necessary, h~ can always be called back for further information. ~-25-- Is it permissible for sick Sisters who are not completely bedridden to ¯ receive Holy C~ommunion by the cell of a Sister who is confined perman-ently to her bed. These Sisters can manage to get around although the doctor's orders are that they rest as much as possible. Likewise the sana-torium in which they stay has' an elevator and the chapel is on the first floor. The general rule is that all should receive Holy Communion in the chapel if they can conveniently do so. If the Sisters are so sick that they are obliged to miss Holy Mass, even though they are up and about their rooms or in the corridor, they may receive Holy Com-munion on the floor on which they li~'e. As to the elevator: if the Sisters use .it to go to'another floor for their meals, then they should use it likewise to go to the chapel to receive Holy Commu'nion. In general one may say that if going to the chapel for Holy Com-munion would lengthen the time for the Eucharistic fast, or would put ar~ additional strain upon a sick Sister who is not confined to her 269 NEW MEDITATION BOOKS Review [or Reh'gious bed, she may receive Holy Communion on the floor on which she lives. --26-- Is the practice of saying I000 Hall Marys on the Feast of the Annun-ciation ÷o be considered a superstition? Everything. will depend upon the motive a person has in re-peating the Hail Mary that often on the Feast of the Annunciation. If this is done simply out of love for Our Lady, there is nothing wrong with it, since, it is a laudhble act of devotion. ~If, on the other hand, the practice were based upon a ~purious ,revelation, or a sup-posed efficacy which it does not have of its own nature (that of intercessory prayer), then it might be superstitious. New Medi!:a!:ion Books Like St. Teresa of'Avila, many religious,need a meditation book for many years to help them in their prayer. Four such books, writ-ten as helps for contact with God in prayer, have recently been pub-lished or reprinted. The authors are a German Capuchin, an Ameri-can Jesuit in India, an American Benedictine, and a Hungarian bishop. The books vary in purpose, content, and form. Direct, ~arnest, Practical One of the books is the fourth volume of MEDITATIONS by Father Bernardine Goebel, O.F.M.Cap., translated by Father Berch- 'mans Bittle, O.F.M.Cap. Adapted for the use of the Friars Minor Capuchin, the direct, earnest, and practical reflections will help any follower of the Gospel. The present volume is for the'time from Trinity Sunday to the Twelfth Sunday biter Pentecost. The meditation for Sundays is usually on the Gospel of the.day. Some of the topics developed f6r the course of a week are the Eucharist, the Mass, faith, hope, char!W, and love of .neighbor. Each meditation begins with a brief sum-mary of the meditation followed by a brief introductory paragraph, develbps two points w.ith a consid,eration and*application, and ends with a prayer. (Province of St. Joseph, 1740 Mt. Elliott Ave., Detroit 7, Michigan, 1950. Pp. 264. $2.50.) Prodac~ of Missionarg Zeal From the 'mission.field ~f Ifidia comes MEDITATIONS FOR EVERY 270 " September, 1951 NEW MEDITA'FION BOOKS DAY by Rev. P. J. Sontag; S.J. It has recently been reprinted in an attractive two volume set. The first volume containin~ I87 medi-tations covers the first half of the liturgical year from Advent to Trinity Sunday. The second volume complete~ the year bringing the total number to 369. Most of the meditations are based on the life of Christ. Meditations on the Apostles Creed, the Our Father, the sacraments, on social justice and Catholic Action are included, as ¯ ycell as meditations for the First Fridays, the lit.urgical feasts, feasts of special saints, and over twenty meditations "honoring Mary. Though the meditations'were l~repared specifically for the l~iity, priests, seminarians, and all religious will find them belpful. Each meditation fias two or three (the. additional gives the account from Scripture) preludes and three ¯points which contain ample matter for reflection. For the colloquy, the author modestly hnd wisely con-fines himself to suggesting the person, Our Lord or a saint, to ad-dress. The set belongs to the Science and Culture Series and has a preface by the general editor, Joseph Husslein, S.J. (The Bruce Publishing Company, 400 N. Broadway, Mil,waukee 1, Wisc., 1950. Pp. I, xviii q- 476; II, ix q- 466. $10.00.) Goal ol: Monasticism Volume three completes THE.SCHOOL OF THE L, ORD'S SERVICE by, Rev. Bernard A. Sause, O.S.B. (author of "Bene, dicti~e Spirit-uality," REVIEW, X, 7). The set gives a meditation based on the Rule of St. Benedict for every day of the" year. The present volume for the ninth to the twelfth month contains the text of the Rule of St. Benedict and thirty meditations on ea'cb .of the foll~)wing four subjects: spirit of detachment: good zeal': practices, interpretations. and attitudes that have grown from the Rule: and intimate union with God. There is a bibliography and a composite index for the three volumes. Each meditation contains a carefully developed consideration, an examen for the day, and a practical application. The considerations are enriched by quotations, examples, and commehts ~arnered from Benedictine tradition, The sources are given after each meditation. The author's" development of zeal is especially noteworthy. He pre-sents the virtue of zeal in a concrete, appealing'manner by singling out for each day of the month a Benedictine monk, nun, or lay Brother who exemplified some aspect of zeal in his or her life. Not all of the exam, plats are canonized saints. The book deserves and 2'71 NEW MEDITATION BOOKS rewards a careful, prayerful reading. (St. Meinrad, Indiana: The. Grail, 1951.' Vol. iII, Pp. vi q- 575. $4.00.) Devotion and Inspiration Rt. Rev. Ottokar Proh~szka, bishop of Sz~kefeh~rvfir, who died on March 28, 1927, was an outstanding and saintly prelate and a gifted, prolific writer. His MEDITATIONS ON THE GOSPELS are brief, s.wift-moving reflections on the entire life of Our Lord. He presents a text from the New Testament, gives a few short reflections, and leaves preludes, affections, and colioquies to the exercitant. The meditations should be a source of devotion and inspiration to many. The author w!;ites in the introduction to his work: '"I am come that they may have life, and may have it more abundantly.' I wish to serve this purpose of Jesus at His Incarnation, and to that end I am sending this book out into the world. It is intended to assist in the development of the life of Cbrist within our souls . Christ is God Himself in human shape, and I have to adore Him, and delight in His sublime beauty, in the depth and unique quality of His Soul, in the powerful originality of His mind, in the charm which He diffuses and in the life which flows forth from Him. My soul hangs upon His lips and hearkens to His every word. I see God reflected in Him as in a mirror; I bow my head upon His bands and surrender my heart to Him. He is God's Instrument; He will form me and harmonize thd conflicting elements within me." The present Newman edition bad three volumes fin one. The authorized translation from the Hungarian is by Margaret de Pill. Father C. C. Martindale, S.J., has written the foreword. (Wes.t-minster, Maryland: The Newman Press, 1951. Pp.: I, xiv + 229; II, ix + 322; III, viii + 282. $5.50.) SPIRITUAL BOOK ASSOCIATES (381 Fourth Ave., New York 16, N.Y.) September Selection--R. Garrigou-Lagrange, O.P. Our Saviour and His Love for Us. $6.00. October Selection--Henri Petitot, O.P. The True Story of Saint Bernadette. (Cf. REVIEW, May '51, p. 161). $3.50. 272 ¯ 8ook Reviews THE HISTORY OF THE POPES. By Ludwlcj yon Pastor. Translated by E. F. Peeler. Vol. 36: Benedict XIV (1740-1758). Pp. 513; Vol. 37: Clement XIII (1758-1769). Pp. 4S8. B. Herder Book Co., St. Louis, Missouri. $5.00 per volume. This REVIEW (September, 1950) carried a notice of Volume 35 of the English Pastor, showing Pope Benedict XIV in the opening years of his pontificate working "with a pistol at his head," 'a weapon held by Catholic sovereigns demanding that he let them run the Church as well. ' It was particularly in m'eeting their concerted attack on the Society of ,lesus that Benedict XIV fought for his papal powers. Now Volume 36, the latter part of Benedict's pontificate, and 37, that of Clement XIII, come t6 hand, and their entire content is predominantly devoted to later phases of this titanic contest. Even so they bring the st.ory only to the end of the second last Act, and tfien break off while the~ translator works on the ddr~otternent. Will the Society, in the end, be suppressed? Will this regiment, of twenty-two thousand religious, in some forty provi,ces, 600 col-leges and over 1400 churches, be sacrificed? Read the next volume to foll~w shortly. To religious of both sexes, and members of whatever type of canonical organization, this story cannot but have deep and abiding interest. That it chanced to be the Ignatian Society against which the storm broke was because it was the "Swiss Guard" of the day, and the ruler of the Swiss Guard can expend his troops in battle, or order them back to the barracks to disband. Despite the faults and human weaknesses of the papacy's de-fenders, the story leaves them with the honorable distinction of. "canonical" death in the line of duty. Certain European monarchs were persuaded that the papacy had to be cut down to reasonable size. As the Minister Tanucci put it (37, 13) : "Certainly the primacy of the Pope was incontestable; he was the supreme head and centre of the Church; he had the right to summon a General Council, and he was infallible, but only when 15e made decisions in conjunction with the Bishops. But the Papacy in the form it had assumed in his day would have to. be abolished." 273 BOOK REVIEWS "The only way to treat the Pope was to . . . kiss his feet and bind his hands'~ .(28). So, under forms of exquisite politeness and courtly'deference, a violent strtiggle was waging. If the current tyranny of atheisti~ Commu, nism were being carried, on under the appearance of Catholic Leadership, if Marshal Stalin had his official minister at the Vatican to shape Catholic policy,.we could all the easier understand the high and mighty language of "unavoidable administrative necessity" that permeates these endless pages of eighteenth century despotism: It was proved with mathematical precision again and again that the mon-archs were but acting for the Church's good in withstanding the Pope, etc. Have we not heard these tunes being aired in our own day? Will it. be different in the twenty-second century, or the twenty-fifth? Details are all irrelevant; the contest wages still: evil has not prevailed, but it availeth much--GERALD ELLARD, S.J. THE LOVE OF GOD AND THE GROSS OF JESUS. By ÷he Rev. Regl-nald Garrigou-Lagrange, O.P. Transl~÷ed by Sisfer Je~n~e Marle, O.P. Volume Two. Pp. vi q- 461. B. Herder Book C;o., Sf. Louis, 1951. $~.00. This volume carries forward and completes Father Garrigou- Lag~ange's studies on divine love and the perplexing trials that are apt to befall souls fairly far advanced in the way of that love. Briefly this is the content of it. Part one deals with "crosses of the senses." These ar4 understood to be just what St. 3ohn of the Cross describes as "the night of sense," and hence here we ,have Fr. Garrigou-Lagrange's interpretation of that portion of St. 3ohn's doctrine. Correspondingly the second part is taken up with St. dohn's !'night of the spirit." Both sections, therefore, are concerned with what one might term the dark, distressing, disconsolate, phase of the mystical life. Part three is headed, "The Life of Union through desus and Mary." Among the themes considered are the inhabita-tion of the Blessed Trinity, the unity and sublimity of the apostolic life, the priesthood of Christ, His kingship, the Blessed Virgin Mary as a model of reparation, and St. 3oseph as a model of the hidden life and first among the saints. As parts one and two would com-fort'and strengthen one who is suffering, the rigors of the night of the soul, so this third part has much that is positively very magnificent and inspiring. The Three Ages of the Interior Life is expressly offere~l to the 274 September, 1951 BOOK REVIEWS public by Ft. Garrigou-Lagrange as a synthesis of this work and Christian Perfection and Contemplation (vol. I, v). Hence it shares in the merits and demerits of that larger and later work. These were discussed at length pro and con'in this REVIEW previously (Novem-ber, 19'49, pp. 297-317; March, 1950, 78-95). ' Since The Love of God and the Cross of Jesus was subsequently incprporated in The Three Ages and presented there in the form which the author now prefers, it seems rather surprising that it should be translated and published at this time. Except for scholars who wisl~ to see both studies, one who wants Fr. Garrigou- Lagrange's ideas on these matters should preferably seek them in the later and more definitiire work--AUGUSTINE G. ELLARD, S.J. THE GIFTS OF THE HOLY GHOST~ By John of St. Thomas. Trenslated fro~ the Latin by Dornin~c Hucjhes, O.P. With e Foreword by Walter Farrell, O.P. Pp. x -f- 293. Sheed end Ward, New York, 19SI. "$3.7S. Now Fr. Hughes has done, and in beautiful form, for English readers what Madame RaissaMaritain did a number of years ago for the French, that is, he has made a translation of the celebrated

Issue 56.6 of the Review for Religious, November/December 1997. ; Living NUMBER 6 Review for Religious is a forum for shared reflection ~n the lived experiehce of all who find that the church's rich" he~'m_ges .of spirituality ~upport tbei~ personal and apostolic Christian li6es. . The articles in the journal are meant to be informative, practical, or inspirationM, written front a~ tbeoflogical or spiritual or s6metimes canonical poin~ t of view. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis Universit3, by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: FOPPEMA@SLU.EI)U Manuscripts, book~ 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 McDonot, gh OP 1150 Cedar Cove Road ¯ Henderson, NC 27536 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 o,1 subscription rates. ¢1997 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 nse, 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 [br the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Jean Read James and Joan Felling Iris Ann Ledden SSND Joel Rippinger OSB Edmundo Rodriguez SJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC Christian Heritages .and Contemporary Living NOVEMBER-DECEMBER 1997 # VOLUME56 ¯ NUMBER6 contents virtues Solidarity--More than a Polish Thing Marie Vianney Bilgrien SSND sheds light on the importance of solidarity as a virtue, especially in the preparation of the Synod for America. The Paradoxical Courage of Ananias John L. Barber draws a picture of the disciple Ananias in which the various attributes of his courage guide us in our Christian following. working together 578 587 A Quilt, a Council, and a Church Margaret Mary Knittel RSM proposes that the processes of quiltmaking and the processes of organizations call for an ever active interdependence among equal people before a loving God. Community--Healthy or Dysfunctional? Joel Giallanza CSC makes some practical observations about the choices we make for a healthy community life and describes various causes of dysfunction. 599 The Elderly among Us Eagan Hunter CSC reflects upon the importance of the elderly ~x~ among us for the vital continuity of our religious life. Revie~v for Religious 605 614 being missioned Interreligious Dialogue and the Jesuit Mission Thomas Michel SJ explains the beneficial implications of interreligious dialogue and describes the personal transformation that results. Misery Meets Mystery in Montenegro: A Survival Guide for North American Religious Annette M. Pelletier IHM pictures the "reason" for hope in the flourishing of consecrated life in North America by describing her experience of the people of the Peruvian pueblo Montenegro. perspectives 623 Itinerancy, Stability, and the Freedom of No-Where Brian J. Pierce oP examines the ascetic freedom common to apostolic itinerancy and monastic stability, the freedom both to go wherever God's Spirit moves us and to stay put wherever we have come to see that God dwells. 636 642 Grass-Roots Religious Jeanne McNulty OCV presents reflections on some new ways of living consecrated life. Jesus, Frogs, and Dancing Eileen P. O'Hea CSJ tells of the rich experience of an ever developing relationship with Jesus that deepens our love of God and love of neighbor. departments Prisms Canonical Counsel: Habit and Habitus: Current Legislation Book Reviews Indexes to Volume 56 November-December 1997 prisms Jesus Christ is the beginning and the end, the alpha and the omega, Lord of the new universe, the great hidden key to human history and the part we play in it. --Paul V-I, homily in Manila, 29 November 1970 ~esus presents us Christians with two inestimable gifts: familial intimacy with God and a share in divine vision. St. Paul speaks of God giving us wisdom to understand the mystery, "the plan he was pleased to decree in Christ, to be carried out in the fullness of time: namely, to bring all things in the heavens and on earth into one under Christ's headship" (Ep 1:9-10). Overwhelmed with the vastness of the vision, we rightly focus on the gift of intimacy. But, as we come to the end of each liturgical year, we receive reminders about the twinned vision which our relationship with Jesus entails. The many Gospel incidents of his curing blindness imply our need for Jesus to give us ever greater sight along with a deepening love relationship. One of the Gospel titles which Jesus elicits from us throughout our lives is "Teacher." As we continue to reflect on the Scriptures and receive graced insight into relationships and situations of our daily life, we become aware that Jesus remains our teacher as he was for the people during the time of his public ministry. A teacher provides information, presents new ways of seeing things, and makes connections with previous experiences, allow-ing further insights to develop. Through the gift of the Spirit, Jesus. continues giving all the richness of divine perspective. The Spirit's action gives hope to the church, whose vision is always in process of renewal. Through the focus of scripture readings during this changeover from Ordinary Time to Advent, the church faces each of us with our personal responsibility to examine whether we continue to deepen our relationship with Jesus and Review for Religious whether we allow Jesus to keep expanding our vision. The ques-tion for us: Do we seek out Jesus as our Teacher? If we enter into Matthew's final-judgment scene, how does Jesus find us "seeing" and dealing with our fellow men and women? With our aware-ness of ecological balance, how responsible are we to an envi-ronment given over to our care? Does "all things being created in him" affect our attitude of reverence in exploring Mars or some galaxy in the future? We talk about "getting stuck in our ways." We sometimes car-icature it as a special problem for the older person, but it has no age boundaries. We see children quickly get into certain ritualized ways of playing. We certainly know such patterns in our own behavior. In fact, prejudice is a fixed way of seeing or of relating. In the face of personal and historical evidence, it is a paradox to be engaged in a growing relationship with Jesus and at the same time to cling to prejudice. Does prejudice signal to us that we may be trying to focus myopically on the Jesus relationship without let-ring Jesus be Teacher for us? We may forget that faith vision is a grace always to be prayed for. Perhaps we have placed ourselves more in the position of Peter refusing to let his feet be washed, and we too need to hear Jesus' reprimand that unless we allow him to wash our feet (that is, allow our relationship with Jesus to affect our way of seeing and of acting) we will end up having no rela-tionship with him. We need to be challenged by the Pauline vision to enter into the divine pleasure of reconciling everything--both on the earth and in the heavens--in Christ. At the close of a liturgical year, as we listen to the Gospel accounts of end times and final-judgment scenes and then move on, in Advent, to the careful preparations for God's entering into our human history in Jesus, we realize anew how we are called to play our part in the cosmic vision--what St. Paul called "the mystery of Christ," the divine de, sign of salvation. Like St. Paul, we too want to make Christ known, hoping to make every human being complete in Christ, since in him--the image of the invisi-ble God--we see God's image of what it means to be human. And in our Christmas awe we continue to pray that we may have eyes to see that Mystery Incarnate, "the fullness of him who fills the universe in all its parts.'? David L. Fleming SJ The editors and staff of Review for Religious wish all our readers a most blessed Christmas and New Year! Noventber-Decevnber 1997 MARIE VIANNEY BILGRIEN SolidaritymMore than a Polish Thing virtues For too long, people have equated the concept of solidar-ity with the Solidarity Union Movement in Poland in the 1980s. On the other hand, many people have not paid any attention to solidarity because they thought of it either as a Polish thing or as just a passing event. For a few years solidarity generated written articles and symposiums after Pope John Paul II named solidarity a virtue in his 1987 encyclical Sollicitudo rei socialis. Can one birth new virtues in our religious tradition? I suspect one can, if one is pope and writing an encyclical. So maybe sol-idarity is a Polish thing! In any case, interest in the virtue soon died down. I know this because in 1994, when I was in Rome writing my dissertation tided Solidarity: d Principle, an Attitude, a Duty, or The Virtue for an Interdependent I4rorld, I seemed the only one interested in it--especially as a virtue. Yet there is a new surge of interest, due to the linea-menta prepared for the Synod of America titled Encounter with the Living.Jesus Christ: Vday to Conversion, Communion, and Solidarity. In the lineamenta, solidarity is referred to as a principle, a duty, and a virtue. Individuals and groups are urged to practice solidarity "to channel effective aid to groups and nations which suffer from poverty." Solidarity as a virtue is "a morally necessary reaction to the exis- Marie Viarmey Bilgrien SSND, director of the Hispanic ministry office in the diocese of Baker, may be addressed at P.O. Box 823; Madras, Oregon 97741 Review for Religious tence of injustice in social conditions" that affects many individ-uals and nations. Emphasizing the fact of interdependence, the lineamenta stresses that solidarity must be practiced not only by individual persons, but by entire peoples and nations, inasmuch as the world is economically, culturally, and politically more and more interconnected. What one country does regarding migra-tion, the use of natural resources, the drug trade, genetic manip-ulation, international economic relations, and so forth affects many other countries. The lineamenta stresses that solidarity is part of the church's social teaching and is to be practiced by everyone (§55); it explains as does Sollicitudo rei socialis that, if we want to undo the structures of sin so prevalent in our world, the solution lies in the moral realm. Just as sins of individuals create structures of sin that take on a hideous existence of their own, "an all-consuming desire for profit and thirst for power," so too acts of the virtue of solidarity by individuals, groups, and nations can build up structures of virtue that have a "decisive influence on economic programs and policies, on social communication, on culture, on healthcare, and so forth" not only locally but also nationally and internationally. It will be interesting to see how the idea of solidarity plays out in the meetings and documents of the Pan-America synod. Solidarity has a longer history than most people realize. It appears five times in the Latin of the Vatican II documents: twice in Apostolicam actuositatem, §8 and §14, and three times in Gaudium et spes, §§4, 32, and 57. In reading the texts one can glean that solidarity has an important spiritual dimension. It is a part of charity and has an individual and a universal dimension. It creates a responsibility to act. Jesus' incarnation shows his and God's sol-idarity with humanity. Our response to that gift is the practice of solidarity, recognizing that we are one family, that we have received gifts and talents to be used cooperatively--for the good of the whole family. Paul VI used the idea of solidarity extensively, especially in Populorumprogressio (see §§17, 43, 44, 48, 62, 64, 73, 80, and 84). It also appears in the Italian translation of Pius XII's encyclical Summipontificatus in 1939. He understood solidarity as the unity Jesus" incarnation shows his and God's solidarity with humanity. November-December 1997 Bilgrien ¯ SolidaritymMore than a Polish Thing of the human race, our.common origin from our Creator, sharing a "common habitation, this world of ours whose resources every-one has a natural right to enjoy., as they are needed for preser-vation and self-development." John Paul has been writing about solidarity since 1969. In his book The Acting Person, in describing personal development, he devotes a whole chapter to the necessity of attitudes of both oppo-sition and solidarity for the true and complete development of mature persons. In naming solidarity a virtue, he gives it greater importance. What does that mean? Solidarity as an attitude, duty, or principle only helps people to do the right thing, but as a virtue it helps them to become good. Duty implies decision and action, but virtue implies a disposition, a power, a perfection. Duty asks, What should I do? Virtue asks, How should I be? Virtue helps us do the right thing for the right reason. Solidarity is a virtue not only for individual persons, but also for groups working together and for nations in a world that is ever more interdependent. Solidarity is the virtue that can move society to the good. Solidarity is the virtue that can transform persons and society. In describing the virtue in Sollicitudo rei socialis, John Paul says that it is the response to relationships in a world that is inter-dependent; "it is a firm and persevering determination to commit oneself to the common good" (§38). He adds that the virtue is valid only when we recognize others as human persons, equal in dignity; when we feel responsible for those who are weaker--the poor (§39). In two paragraphs he lays out the components of the virtue of solidarity: interdependence, the common good, the dignity of the person, the preferential option for the poor. Solidarity recognizes that people, nations, all of creation are interconnected. What happens in one area of the world can have tremendous effects in another part. The actions of individuals, nations, and blocs of nations either increase the structures of sin (thirst for power, all-consuming desire for profit, ethnic wars, unjust wages, inhuman working conditions, patterns of violence and sexual abuse) or can build up structures of virtue (cooperative efforts to bring about a more just world and preserve the integrity of creation: the United Nations, groups concerned about ecol-ogy, peace-and-justice commissions, and so forth). Solidarity as a virtue recognizes people as equal in dignity and worthy of respect. Solidarity as a virtue sees each person as a Review for Religious member of the world family, as an image and likeness of God. Instead of looking at others as simply other, solidarity helps us to see them as neighbors, as brothers and sisters. From this flow the importance and necessity of working together to preserve the human family and the integrity of creation. Some of this can be seen in the work of the U.N. as it sends groups to work with refugees or promote peace between warring eth-nic groups. One sees the virtue in Doctors with-out Frontiers, who work in many parts of the world, and in other volunteer groups promot-ing health, education, and housing in poor coun-tries of the world. In accepting and recognizing the human dignity of each person, there must be a focus on those who are poorest. Both John Paul and Paul VI noted that their eyes were opened to the poor during their travels to Latin America and India. When one stands in a different place, one sees differently. Moving out from the Vatican palace to the streets of Calcutta and the barrios of Rio de Janeiro changes the view. Their eyes were opened; their awareness of people's suffering intensified. After those journeys, both popes talked more and more strongly about the necessity of "an option for the poor." In Sollicitudo rei socialis John Paul explains that a preferential option is not an exclusive option, but is a "firm and irrevocable option." Solidarity with its component of an option for the poor helps us to see the wider issues, the intertwining of systems and structures that oppress the poor rather than raise them up. Somewhere, in solidarity's judgment, the poor have a role. It is not true solidarity if the poor are overlooked or treated with conde-scension. In each judgment that is made, each action taken, one should ask: How will this affect the poor? The real goal of an option for the poor is to move beyond helping them and provid-ing care. The goal is for the poor to be authors of their own actions, to make their own decisions, decisions that are effective in moving them from poverty to participation in society. The goal is for them to be no longer .treated as children incapable of tak-ing care of themselves, but to participate in decision making so that the effects of solidarity are felt by all and begin to reshape the unjust structures that keep the poor poor. Only when the poor Solidarity recognizes that people, nations, all of creation are interconnected. November-December 1997 Bilgrien ¯ Solidarity--More than a Polish Thing are treated with full dignity will the virtue of solidarity begin to flourish in all its splendor. What is at stake is the common good, the good of all and the good of each individual, and solidarity is the virtue that commits everyone to the common good. Solidarity directs nations to sub-ordinate their national interests for the good of the planet, for the good of all. Solidarity directs individuals to transcend their greed and selfishness and focus on the good of the whole. Our years of selfishness, of greed for power and money, have caused havoc in the environment and have placed future genera-tions in jeopardy. No one can quash worrisome questions about the "greenhouse effect," about the dangers of the ozone level in the atmosphere, and about unknown effects of massive deforesta-tion and the continuous piling up of industrial waste. We continue to kill our planet. The widespread experimentation and manipula-tion in the biological sciences has outrun our ability to make moral decisions. Those decisions or indecisions will have for future gen-erations repercussions that we cannot predict. Solidarity is the virtue that can bring us to a greater consciousness of the importance of our moral decisions. Solidarity, by focusing the common good, reminds us that the differences of race, gender, ethnicity, culture, and economic status do not have to be divisive. Solidarity is the virtue for the third millennium. It has the capacity to inform interdependence in such a way that persons, peoples, countries, and nations will relate to each other equally, as members of the same family. Solidarity as a virtue orders actions and relationships towards the common good. It is the virtue that can transform a world of unjust structures, structures of sin, into structures of virtue, structures of justice, family structures. The general secretariat of the Synod of Bishops in its working paper has begun to answer the call of John Paul to unite all peoples of the Western Hemisphere and offers the practice of solidarity as one of the ways to solve the massive problems and inequities of the two continents. Conversion, communion, and solidarity in, with, and through Jesus Christ will be important on the journey into the third millennium. Solidarity is only the beginning. Review for Religious JOHN L. BARBER The Paradoxical Courage of Ananias anlthe pages of the sacred text, we find many courageous, but so human, people. One .such bold, authentic person was Ananias of the Book of Acts. The prelude to his encounter with Paul (then named Saul) is recorded as follows: A disciple called Ananias who lived in Damascus had a vision in which he heard the Lord say to him, "Ananias!" When he replied, "Here I am, Lord," the Lord said, "You must go to Straight Street and ask at the house of Judas for someone called Saul, who comes from Tarsus. At this moment he is praying and having a vision of a man called Ananias coming in and laying hands on him to give him back his sight." When he heard that, Ananias said, "Lord, several people have told me about this man and all the harm he has been doing to your saints in Jerusalem. He has only come here because he holds a warrant from the chief priest to arrest everybody who invokes your name." The Lord replied, "You must go all the same, because this man is my chosen instru-ment to bring my name before pagans and pagan kings and before the people of Israel. I myself will show him how much he himself must suffer for my name." Then Ananias went. (Ac 9:10-16)~ We know very little about Ananias, other than what we glean from this short account in Acts; he was "a disciple" of Jesus and lived in Damascus. Rather than being a longtime citizen of that city, our Ananias may have been a refugee from the persecution of Christians in Jerusalem. Though this is uncertain, we will John L. Barber, a lawyer, married and the father of two college-age sons, is also a lay minister at St. Paul's Episcopal Church. He writes to us from 600 Nokomis Court; Winston-Salem, North Carolina 27106. November-Decentber 1997 Barber ¯ The Paradoxical Courage of Ananias Saul is not only a real person, but also a symbol for the challenge to move from what we know, from safety, into the unknown and risk. --y-72J assume that he was indeed one who had fled from religious oppression. From Paul's address to the Jews of Jerusalem, we learn he was also "a devout follower of the Law and highly thought of by all the Jews living" in Damascus (Ac 22:12). Apparently his name was a common one, for in Acts we meet two other Ananiases. The first appears in chapter 5--Sapphira's husband, who lied to the Holy Spirit--and in chapter 23 we encounter the other, the high priest who ordered Paul struck on the mouth. In the same type of human plight in which our faith is tested, the constancy of Ananias was tried. In this sense Saul is a metaphor for those predicaments into which we must walk, involving a difficult or dangerous person or situation and presenting some risk from which we fear harm. The potential injury we face may not be as grave as the arrest and imprisonment that Ananias dreaded. Nonetheless, to us it feels and seems harmful, and we are afraid. As we journey on our Christian pilgrimage, all of us must face our own fear-provoking Sauls. Who are these Sauls for us? They are those places and people to which we would not go, were it not for God leading, moving, and stirring us and urging us to grow. They are life passages and problems we would not engage in, were it not for God inviting us or interrupting our lives. Saul may appear in life passages such as a midlife crisis or that time when the last child leaving home creates what is commonly called "the empty nest." In these interruptions we lose our bearings. Our "Saul" in them is the challenge of finding our direction again and reorienting ourselves. They might be crises like a divorce or the death of a spouse or loved one, the loss of a job or dissatisfaction with one's career. In these situations we face Saul when we are forced out of our ruts to seek new or renewed meaning for life. Saul is not only a real person, but also a symbol for the chal-lenge to move from what we know, from safety, into the unknown and risk. He is a sign for that time in life when our devotion to God demands concrete but hazardous action. We may find our Sauls in people with whom we have some Review for Religious confrontation, particularly if we are conflict avoiders. On the other hand, the Saul could be a confrontation with our own selves as we meet the challenge of seeing the truth in our own failings and weaknesses, limitations andsins, and dysfunctions and addic-tions. The dangerous Saul might be the challenge of learning healthier ways of relating and living. These types of self-con-frontation, in which we face the painful reality in our own hearts, can require even more courage than conflict with others. Typically, life's Sauls, in the guise of hard and risky challenges, involve both types of encounters: encountering self and encountering another person or some passage or crisis. For both of these, fortunately, we have a guide in the person of Ananias: he faced his own fear and Saul as well. A pattern for a bold Christian spirituality, he presents, when viewed from dif-ferent angles, a multidimensional courage. What, then, were some of the facets of his intrepidity? His Christian courage involved at least five attributes: openness before God, obedience, reluc-tance, calculated surrender, and the gift of grace. Openness before God The characters of the Bible portray many different stances or postures vis-~a-vis God. The prophet Jonah tried "to get away from Yahweh" (Jon 1:3). In Genesis, after Adam and Eve suc-cumbed to temptation, they hid from the Lord God who came to them "walking in the garden in the cool of the day." Ananias, on the other hand, was neither taking flight nor hiding. While he may have fled the persecution in Jerusalem, he did not flee from God. The Lord did not have to say to him, "Ananias, where are you?" as he did to Adam (Gn 3:8-10) or unleash "a violent wind on the sea" as he did against Jonah (Jon 1:4). Instead, Ananias had laid, himself bare before God, saying, "Here I am, Lord. Speak, your servant is listening." This "I-tere I am, Lord" stance in the presence of God is the courageous spirituality. Living "out there," in front of God, is the stalwart posture of discipleship. It is scary to live openly before God. What sins will God allow us to see? How will the glow of his love and the heat of his righteousness feel on our faces? What sufferings that our broth-ers and sisters endure will we, too, be privileged to face? What will the Lord ask us to do? For example, we pray earnestly, longing to hear God as clearly as Ananias did. Then, L.f-73 November-December 1997 Barber ¯ The Paradoxical Courage of Ananias when we do, we are hesitant to do what God has asked of us. We question God, saying, "Lord, did you really say what I thought you said?" or "God, I wanted you to speak to me, but I really don't want to do what you asked." Hiding from God among the trees of the garden is the spir-ituality of fear. Taking flight from God is the spirituality of escape. Openness before God is the spirituality of Ananias. Obedience The obedience of Ananias flowed out of his openness before God. This aspect of courage led to another, that of obedience. Courage for the Christian is different from bravery in other con-texts. For the believer, courage is connected to our obedience to God. An outgrowth of Ananias's openness was his vision in which he heard God speak, a time of intent listening for and to the voice of God. According to author Henri Nouwen, there is a com-monalty between obedience and intent listening. The word obe-dience springs from the Latin ob-audire, which signifies intent listening? Such intent listening is an act of courage in itself. For, if we begin to listen, we may come to know the sound of God's voice. And, if we come to know the sound of the voice, we may actually hear it. And, if we hear what God has to say to us, we are left in a dilemma of response and answer, as was Ananias. Reluctant Courage In our society we tend to view brave people as those who have no fear. In fact, the word "fearless" is a synonym for "courage." Yet, if we wait until we have no fright or consternation before we take a particular action, we will never act; for who among us is never afraid? This, however, is all-or-nothing thinking. Instead of being either valiant or afraid, we are simultaneously both3--valiant and afraid. Bravery, in truth, is action in spite of fear. In the face of the terror which looks us straight in the eyes, courage is a life stance or attitude which enables us to go to that dreadful place where God may be leading and we otherwise would not travel. For Ananias, bravery existed coexisted with his fear. He was obviously afraid of Saul, who journeyed to Damascus "still breath-ing threats to slaughter the Lord's disciples" (Ac 9:1). Having ReviewforReligious heard the Lord, Ananias responded by saying, "But, Lord, let me point out a few things to you. This Saul is a dangerous man. He might arrest me and put me in prison. I've already fled Jerusalem to get away from persecution, and now you want me to walk straight back into it." There is no evi-dence that Ananias ever got over being afraid of Saul. Although he was reluctant in his fear of Saul, Ananias nevertheless responded in faithfulness to the voice of God. He went to Saul in and with his fear. Following the example of Ananias, courage for the Christian exists not in overcoming our human- Courage for the Christian exists not in overcoming our humanity, but in our humanity. ity, but in our humanity. For the Christian, courage lives where there is obedience to the voice of God in spite of a very real dread. A Calculated Surrender For the Christian, courage is also an ambiguous place of ten-sion between knowing and counting the costs of our obedience, on the one hand, and, on the other, surrendering to consequences of our listening to God that are yet unknown. It is action flowing out of a paradoxical wisdom and foolishness. Whatever we might say about Ananias, he counted the cost of obeying God. He knew the risks. About our Ananias, there was a certain sophistication and wisdom. He had a firm grip on life as it really is, including the ugly part, particularly if he was a refugee from the persecution in Jerusalem. As a realistic person, his brav-ery was not a gullible one. Arrest, prison, stoning, persecution-- he knew very well what he might be getting into if he obeyed God and went to Saul. He was regardful of the reality of this man, who "entirely approved of the killing" of Stephen and "worked for the total destruction of the Church" by going "from house to house arresting both men and women and sending them to prison." (Ac 8:1 and 3). While he was well acquainted with the kind of man he was, his encounter with Saul also held a very real terror of the unknown and unfamiliar. Ananias did not know whether he would survive this ordained meeting or be stoned to death. Though we count the costs of our obedience, we still cannot know the ultimate out- Noventber-December 1997 Barber ¯ The Paradoxical Courage of Ananias come. The future cannot be envisioned. An old Jewish proverb says that "man plans but God laughs." Despite our best planning we cannot eliminate all surprises and exigencies. For the Christian, courage involves surrender into the hidden outcome of our obe-dience. In our confrontations we must know the risks we face. We are called to be wise as serpents. At the same time we cannot fore-see all the risks, and so our courage must have some element of surrender in it. In facing others we miglit lose our jobs, endure retribution, or suffer alienation in relationships. In the passages and crises of life, we might be forced from our comfortable lifestyle to one of greater risk as well as service and deeper mean-ing. In discovering ourselves as we really are, we may feel the heat of God's gaze with an intensity similar to the sun shining through a magnifying glass. Discomforting it is to see both the chaff and the wheat of the ripening crop of our own lives. Ananias's intrepidity was not naive, but one rooted in reality. Nonetheless, it involved a letting go of his life and relinquish-ment to God. If we are to be brave Christians, we must enter the place of tension between counting the cost and surrender. Gift of Grace We return to the name Ananias. For actors in the Biblical drama, a name was significant. So it was for Ananias. His name is derived from the Hebrew name Hananiah, meaning "the Lord is gracious" or "the Lord shows grace." For us to hear God's voice, the Lord must speak--which in itself is a special grace. With its limited resources, our own courage can take us only so far. Then, in order to heed the sound of God's voice, we come to the point where our humanity needs a healthy dose of grace. God's gra-ciousness is our access to Christian courage that is required of us if we are to be disciples. Grace is the window through which we step from hiding before God to the presence of God. Grace is the threshold which we cross from a fearful inaction to an obe-dience of reluctant courage. The irony of Christian courage is that it requires both a personal achievement and a gift from God. Living openly before God, Ananias of Damascus exposed him-self to hear whatever the Lord might say. Once he heard the voice of God, he responded in obedience. But his response was a human one of courage in its reluctance and hesitancy in its bravery. Review for Religious Realistic in his intrepidity, he both knew the risk and counted the cost of going to Saul. At the same time, he abandoned himself to the unknown consequences. Then he relied on God's grace so that he might be obedient to his voice. To varying degrees we are all Ananiases, whom William Barclay called "one of the forgotten heroes of the Christian Church." The mystery is that we are persons of paradox--as was Ananias; reluctantly courageous, calculated in our surrender, and obedient through grace--as was Ananias. Notes ~ Scripture quotations are from the Jerusalem Bible. 2 Seeds of Hope: A Henri Nouwen Reader, ed. Robert Durback, p. xxix. 3 I am indebted to Maurice Briggs MA for this insight about "all or nothing" or "either!or" thinking ove? and against "both/and" thinking. Rev. Briggs is a member of the faculty in the Department of Chaplaincy and Pastoral Education at North Carolina Baptist Hospital, Winston- Salem, North Cai'olina. Advent Cave Plato knew about the dark, how we prisoners face the wall in chains, only the fire b~hind us letting us see the m~oving shadows we call real. Far above, looms the door to light, reachable only by those who turn ~ away,from all they know. Wisdom, who lived in the cave at Nazareth where parents made a home and carried water to thefire, sitting at night in quiet, thoughts and the animals dozing near embers, the dying light, after a day of learning the real, calls us to turn and face the door. Evelyn Mattern November-Deconber 1997 MARGARET MARY KNITTEL | A Quilt, a Council, and a Church working together The quilt movement should be preserved as a col-lective enterprise with an ethical concern. If taken seriously as women's art, quilts cannot be perceived and enjoyed as isolated aesthetic objects divorced from the relationships of women to each other and to the rest of humankind. Quilts emin~ently pose the question of how one behaves in the asking and viewing of art. --Radka Donnell, Quilts as Women's Art Twenty years ago I took several tries at developing skills "for the home," sensing at first blush of midlife that my. more productive impulses would require something for my hands to do in my old age. Firs~t, there were the needlepoint classes, ~e.~n quilting. Quiltmaking is not for the faint of heart. As a dropout from Advanced Quilting, I can attest to the shaky feeling in the knees when faced with what appears to be an infinite number of steps. This quiltmaking episode would be instructive. As I have come to understand them, both quiltmaking and organizations involve mutuality and interdependence as essential pro-cesses within their respective collective enterprises. A Collective Enterprise In quiltmaking, the mutuality and interdependence of the women are reflected in th~ final product. Design, tex- Margaret Mary Knittei RSM works as a grants consultant for nonprofit organizations. She may be addressed at P.O. Box 634; Geneva, Illinois 60134. Review for Religious ture, color, and template come together through their hands, through their spirit shaping. "Quilts are healing because they accept the uniqueness, the positive difference, and the mortal limit of each human being."1 A quilt's design, texture, color, and template over a period of time will collect these human beings and express their individualities anew. Design, texture, color, template .become interdependent, one with the others, to bring beauty to the whole. The overall design of a quilt needs a working principle, a template, to express the color and'the texture, to specify the difference. One shape, a tri-angle for example, can be the basic design of countless quilts~ The textures of various fabrics add to color and design, with the template giving the basic shape. Color in all its bold or modest hues as textured by the various materials gets a specific shape and then is pieced'into a growing design. The mutuality and interdependence among the quiltmakers affirm them all. Positive differences go somewhere into a future, not wasting time with empty words of control; rather, they speak of vision. Limit recognizes this is a bordered piece, this quilt, and we its .shapers affirm the grace of the moment~, knowing it could be the grace of a lifetime. .Quiltmaking is a healing image, one that includes authentic conversation, meaning-filled relationships, among the people sharing the brganizational life of a parish, a religious community, a church. "Religion here is the sensation of being one with the whole, of belonging, not of subjection.''~ The virtues of quilt-making are the virtues of a healthy human organization. A Demo~cratic and Affirming Mission . Radka Donnell says in her perceptive book: "To the work of piecing quilts I was silently called, and i( took me years to sort 6ut the problems it revealed and the-difficulties it created. The early groups of contemporary quiltmakers were inspired by a sense of mission. If not expressly feminist in each case, this mission certainly was democratic and affirmative of each individual quiltmaker a'nd each quilt. (p. 6) The metaphor of quiltmaking can remind us of the Second Vatican Council's challenge to the church to accept both its divine mission and the human organization called to participate in thLa$t-7-9 November-December 1997 Knittel ¯ A Quilt, a Council, and a Church mission. Facing problems and difficulties, it is an organization capable of error, of hurt and pain, in search of truth, in sea.rch of healing and grace. During the thirty and more years since the council's call, at times its substantive energy seems depleted and diminished; but ultimately, in the hearts of people, the message will never be muffled or suffocated. The post-Vatican church as organization, as. human organi-zation, seems destined for democratic and affirming conversa-tions. That kind of, change and growth lies in the hands of all believers, as people seated as equals around a corporate quilt. If we are quiet.like the quiltmakers, we still hear, from the heart of the council, that call, that sense of being missioned, to the inclu-sive and respectful goodness of lives lived to the full in the sight of God. Our lives continue on, and as we look desperately for mileposts we acknowledge we are still on the way. Concerns for democratically and respectfully affirming connections become earnest calls for better ways of being together, whether it be in a parish, a religious community, or the church universal. Religious organizations, as human organizations, need to face their corporate humanity. A corporate way of being human is important, whether we admit or deny the fact, whether we like it or not. The foibles of people's human interaction can be acutely felt at an individual level. Often, however, corporate humanity recognizes the problems only after many have been hurt. Words like "low morale" or "uncooperative" become blame tags. The dilemma for leadership is that, when you blame, you do not lead. The nature of bureaucracies is to maintain power, no. matter what the cost. The church needs to ask itself just how bureau-cratic it wants to be. If it chooses to be increasingly pastoral, it will find that parishes, religious orders, dioceses, and the church uni-versal will raise new questions, demand new ways of~behaving. Within a bureaucratic church organization, the individual-- parishioner, ~priest, vowed religious, bishop, employee--will mat-ter less than the maintenance of power: posturing, identifying totally with power, seeking to dominate. To survive, members might feel they must be subservient in one way or another. Within a bureaucracy the common good is co-defined with the maintenance of the organization itself. More time and energy are given to protecting a bureaucratically bungled decision than to thinking through afresh what is happening. Things as we hard known them remain the same. In the face of an entrenched Review for Religious bureaucracy, the better educated, the more aware, may leave. Feeling tokenism and lack of care, they may go off, re,searching for their soul. For those who stay, the mission seems dissolved within the bureaucratic. Doing the task mindlessly and relating to self, oth-ers, and God make it all bearable. Fair Dealing Radka Donnell makes this observation about quiltmaking: To be interested in the theory and practice of quiltmaking means to look for fair dealing between women, as well as between men and women. It indicates a readiness to fight against all obstacles preventing us from creating a better world together. (p. 72) One systems view of organizations sees them as made up of four equal subsystems, mutually interdependent in their rela-tionships. These four separate and different subsystems are called the task, the structure, informal groups, and the individual. These four separate and different subsystems function optimally when all are equal to one another in importance and mutually interde-pendent in their relating. If one of these subsystems puffs up, the whole system is affected. The other subsystems get leaned upon, diminishing their contributions within the whole. If one of these subsystems withers, the functioning whole likewise suffers, gets skewed. Parishes; religious communities, and the church universal as human organizations are distinct systems. Each could be said to consist of the four subsystems of task, structure, informal groups, and the individual. The Task as Subsystem. The task in a. religious community would be its charism, the unique mission of a community as per-ceived within the Catholic tradition in its particular context. Similarly, a parish has a particular local task to accomplish. A contemplative group of religious women varies from an active one, and0an inner-city parish from a suburban one. While each participates in a still larger system, locally they are themselves separate organizations. Over time numerous activities accrete to any organization, but its central mission remains. Confusion, dif-ferences, outright hostilities occur when an important question is not acknowledged or goes unasked: "Just who does the sending, November-December 1997 Knittel ¯ A Quilt, a Council, and a Church the missioning?" Is it God, a founder or foundress, this hospital, a church, the history of a town or city? The Structure as Subsystem. The second subsystem to be looked at here is structui'e or governance. Within a community or a parish, we all know the persons making up the structure. Vv'hether community government be elected or discerned, it finds itself in Whether community government be elected or discerned, it finds itself in a quandary of expectations from membership, and from itself. a quandary of expectations from mem-bership and from itself. Likewise, a new pastor looking around for the first time feels various expectations arising. Leadership needs to lead, but, when it does, its performance may not fit pre-conceived notions. Then leadership may be tempted to resist the future; to lean back and maintain the present, and hence to end up reissuing the past. Leadership in the ideal sustains the vision of the common good, which in itself is a process both democratic and affirming. A structure ideally assumes lines and processes of accountability that are at .once just and active. Leapfrogging .and micromanaging from a0distant central office can bypass managers and commit-tees on the scene and violate the rights of the organization itself. Again, if local people .spontaneously blurt out their evaluation of an associate pastor at a parish council meeting, they bypass proper procedures and strip away the individual's right to an appropriate evaluation of job performance. The structure, we need to remem-ber, is one of four equal and interdependent, subsystems contex~ tualized within an organization. Informal Groups as Subsystem, The informal groups in an orga-nization would be various clusters of individuals espousing simi-lar norms and sanctions among themselves. They appear neutral in a well-functioning organization, manifesting as they do a nat-ural affinity of persons. Sometimes, however, an informal group skews an organization, a company, a religious community, or a parish by losing sight of the larger task, the mission, the com-mon good, and seeking its own way of goverfiing the whole. The informal group may try to impose its own values on the majority in any number of ways: by inclusion, exclusion, intimidation, and oppression, by pushing to be the most holy, the most dedicated to Review for Religious the poor, the most attentive to keeping the church intact, the most pro-life. Many masks can disguise the will for power over others, and an informal group in any organization can obscure and even obliterate the vision. The Individual as Subsystem. The fourth subsystem within this model of organization is the individual. Individuals and the moti-vations they bring to the organization impact the entire system. The recognition of the variety of motivations at play within any group can be a sobering and staggering realization. From studies on the impact of opportunity in organizations, we know that the "anointed" in organizations, those high flyers who move quickly through ~the ranks, are given life through our desire to observe them as winners. We endow their ideas and words with more credibility. We entrust them with more resources and better assignments. We have already decided that they will succeed, and so we continu-ally observe them with the expectation that they will con-firm our beliefs.3 The anointed individual in this language of organization-as-system distorts the life of the organization, overshadowing struc-ture, informal groups, task or mission, and other individuals. Other members give over their .truth, their experience, and, in thus surrendering their individual dignity, they suffocate the pos-sibility of democracy or the achievement of the common good. The anointed individual becomes a god. Within a church or reli: gious organization the confusion of gods for God needs contin-ued sorting. Self-Healing Among her comments about quilting, Radka Donnell says: The.more the system gets into high gear, the more self-he~ aling is needed. (pp. 126-127) In church organizations, isolation and wrongly constructed obediences sometimes intensifies the claim of the few to be anoint-eds. A particular organization's structure, informal groups, and task or mission could conceivably be dominated by an anointed; in this mix, religious language might be used to cover ambition, to anoint the anointed. A wonderful scene from the movie Richard 111 swipes at the capacity of religious language to cover up. Richard, pretending to be secluded and hard at prayer, emerges to be "convinced." to November-Dece~nber 1997 Knittel ¯ A Quilt, a Council, and a Church accept the English throne he has serpentinely plotted and mur-dered to acquire, Knowing that people consider him in some way the anointed one, he now considers himself a god. He becomes increasingly foreign to those around him, and later he meets defeat in battle. Have we ever looked on when a locally anointed individual (now apparently feeling godlike as well) strongly inserted irrele-vant and impertinent opinion into a community or parish com-mittee, spilling the work of months down the drain? Numbers of those very committee members, still ~motionally inclined to attribute greater knowledge and perhaps even a cosmic wisdom to the anointed one, may find themselves recoiling in disarray. Can we recall an experience in our lifetime when an individual crashed through the lines of accountability appropriate to structure, manipulated informal groups by feeding them what they want to hear, and used language of mission or church or patriotism to keep the advantage? Is this the call of the prophetic, we. wonder, as we give over our own individual power to this other individual, the anointed? "Prophetic ministry consists of offering an alternative perception of reality and in letting people see their own history in the light of God's freedom and his will for justice.''4 The test suggested is whether the anointed gives space for us to reflect courageously on our 'individual histories "in the light of God's freedom." To con-tinually strive to see one's own history in God's light will be to know our own history, our own experience, anew each time. This is not a blaming game, an unhealed existence, or a quick fix with aphorisms, but a genuine opening in my life, your life, for healing, for Jesus the Christ. Self-healing is not a plastic therapy for believers, but an engagement with a living. God. The question remains: Does the message of an. anointed one leave room for all these variables, for the lights of a freeing God? Margaret Wheadey contrasts the "anointed" individual within an organization to the "dead" individual. Others in organizations go unobserved, irrevocably invisi-ble, bundles of potential that no one bothers to look at. Or they receive summary glances, are observed to be "dead," and are thereafter locked into jobs that provide them with no opportunity to display their many pote.ntials,s A post-Vatican II church unfurled to Catholics a new way of being, and we need to revisit those challenges. Dying to self, we Review for Religious have come to increasingly realize, never meant not unbundling our own gifts, our own graces, as we become acquainted with them. Our own baptismal anointing as Christians, no longer a vague memory, becomes a constant call. But, alas, we knew that struggling to be "undead"--not be to an anointed, just to be undead--would have its own price, Declaring the king to be naked in a bureaucracy brings life-mark-ing, career-reversing implications. A question, a deviation, could bring death-dealing expulsion from the informal life of the group or from the larger organization itself. Each person having and wanting to have influence, each want-ing to "see their own history in the light of God's freedom," becomes incessantly difficult if declared or assumed to be among the "dead." The equality of persons within an organization is the paradigm for the equality of each subsystem in the model offered here. Puffing up one impinges upon all the others. Withering one depletes all. Equality equates to mutuality among members. The Incessant Pursuit The church, embracing sinners in her bosom, is at the same time holy and always in need of being purified, and inces-santly pursues the path of penance and .renewal. (Lumen gentium, §8) The processes of quiltmaking and the processes of organiza-tions call for an incessant pursuit of mutuality and interdepen-dence among women and men equal before a loving God. The Second Vatican Council invited the church of the 20th century to know both its humanity and its wonder. If parishes, orders of women and men religious, and the church universal in a post-Vatican II church accept themselves as corporate human organizations, they will steadily come to under- Stand the strengths and pitfalls that accompany such aggregate groups, The rich heritage of the church cannot afford to forget that it is an organization of human persons. Such forgetting rehearses feudal futility. There is both frailty and strength in its organizational life. At the level of shared humanity, frailties and strengths within any group will always be fa!i'ly evident. To deny this shared humanity is to set up the religious organization as exempt from the foibles and frets that indeed call on God for its life principle. Novetnber-Decentber 1997 Knittel ¯ A Quilt, a Council, and a Church "The church, or, in other words, the kingdom of Christ now pres-ent in mystery, grows visibly in the world through the power of God" (LG §3). To deny the church's humanness is to deny the power of God. As we continue to unpack that sublimely historic event we fondly call "the council," there is more to do, more to remind others about, more for ourselves to be .reminded about. The Roman Catholic Church as a religious organization, ceasing to gloss over its frail corporate humanity, will come to understand its corporateness at a more profound level. The church as a human organization will come to truly trust in the mystery of its shared life of faith in Jesus the Christ. This living quilt we call "church" calls to a people deeply conversant with a living God. Notes I Radka Donnell, Quilts as Women's Art: A Quilt Poetics (North Vancouver, Canada: GaIlerie Publications, 1990), p. 425. 2 Dorothee Soelle, Theology for Skeptics (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1995), p. 28. 3 Margaret J. Wheadey, Leadership and the New Science (San Francisco: Berrett-Koehler Publishers, 1994), p. 60. 4 Walter Brueggemann, The Prophetic Imagination (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1978), p. 110. s Wheatley, pp. 60-61. Subscriptions to Review for Religious can now be ordered or renewed by I~AX and.paid for by MasterCardor ~sa. FAX the order form inside the back cov~r~ or CALL our office with, you~r.tcgedit carol numbi~r:.? o. FAX: 314-~-7-7362 ¯ PHONE: 314297727363 Review for Religious JOEL GIALLANZA Communitym Healthy or Dysfunctional? ~or these reflections about community living in religious .~. orders and congregations, I propose what may seem a curi-ous biblical passage, the one that concludes with "Very well, pay Caesar what belongs to Caesar--and God what belongs to God" (Mr 22:21). We are more accustomed to texts on loving one another or bearing one another's burdens or remaining united and at peace among ourselves or reconciling with one another whenever necessary. All those principles and practices are very important for the life of a healthy community. From this text, however, two :practical norms can be drawn which also are impor-tant for life in community: appropriateness and balance. These two norms are tightly intertwined, like a fine weaving; in fact, both can be drawn from those same words of Jesus: "Pay Caesar what belongs to Caesar--and God what belongs to God." First, appropriateness: We do not give to Caesar what belongs to God or to God what belongs to Caesar. In community we can bring realities into~our life together which are not really appro-priate precisely because they are misplaced: for example, unfair expectations of someone or of one another as a group; unwill-ingness to share or communicate something which by our pro-fession we commit ourselves to share and communicate; personal agendas, with their accompanying attitudes and perspectives, and emotions, which may really belong in ministry or to only one of our relationships or somewhere else altogether. Joel Giallanza CSC writes for us once again from: Congregation of the Holy Cross; Via Framura, 85; 00168 Roma; Italy. November-December 1997 Giallanza ¯ Community--Healthy or Dysfunctional? Serious personal reflection and realistic self-knowledge bring with them the ability to answer this simple question: Where does what I am experiencing--this issue, this feeling, this concern-- belong? Where will it be most appropriately articulated and addressed? Inappropriate placement of issues, feelings, and con-cerns generates an inadequate response. Then all frustrations sur-rounding them will be intensified as they continue to be unaddressed. Second, balance: We give to Caesar what belongs to Caesar and to God what belongs to God at the same time. Of the two points, balance is the more challenging, even on a daily basis. Most of our time and energy as apostolic religious are invested in ministry. This is important, given who we are as religious com-mitted to continue the mission of Jesus in the spirit of our founders and foundresses. Nevertheless, we do need to remind ourselves from time to time that each of us has only one limited pool of time and energy. Too easily we can fall out of balance by expending the maxi-mum of our quality time and energy in ministry--or on some-thing else--and simply neglect community or prayer. While that might never degenerate into complete negligence; we may grad-ually adopt a very minimalist approach to community. Then, from time to time, we may feel shocked that those with whom we live every day have changed or rearranged this or that without our having been consulted. Conveniendy we might forget to ask our-selves if we were sufficiently present, available, and interested when those decisions were being formulated and then imple-mented. Community life can be joyful and it can be painful; at times it can be the greatest of blessings and at times the heaviest of burdens. But never has there been a guarantee, that it would be easy. As long as we are human, working to live closely with other people, appropriateness and balance in approaching our commu-nity life will continue to be significantchallenges. "Pay Caesar what belongs to Caesar--and God what belongs to God." We may not always make that payment perfectly, but we are responsible for making the effort 'to live community with the appropriateness and balance which can facilitate the love and unity we seek. Though other things must also be included, these are principal ingredients that determine the quality of life and health within a community. Review for Religious Quality of Community: Healthy or Dysfunctional? Very little, if anything, about community is theory.It is work to live with one another. But through our commitment it is meant to be a work of the heart. The alternative is that members care lit-tle about one another and about the space in which they live. Gradually each individual b~comes the center of a personal uni-verse which has minimal contact and communication with the other personal universes in the vicinity. Then all the theories about community and loving one another constitute little more than fine words carried on hot air. , Community life, then, can be healthy or dysfunctional. These present thoughts will focus on some characteristics of a healthy community and on some earmarks of a dysfunctional community. The following sets of contrasting characteristics represent spec-trums present in all communities. They are presented here only as a stimulant for further reflection and discussion vis-h-vis the specific experiences and contexts of actual local communities. The health or dysfunction of a community is evident from its location on the spectrum. Determining that location is not a random, arbi-trary exercise; it emerges from the members' individual and com-munal self-knowledge, hgnesty, self-examination, and willingness to adapt. Only then can the members decide what adjustments will facilitate living more effectively as a healthy community. Community or Computer? Communication, sharing and processing information, has a major influence on the health or dysfunction of a community. Healthy choices and decisions are based on sufficient and appro-priate, information and clear communication. This assumes gen-uine listening, not simply hearing. Attentive listening enables us to analyze and respond to. someone's words with understanding and love. , , The alternative is not :merely a failure to listen, though that will be part of it. Much more, the alternative strips the entire interchange--the information sharing and the personal decision making--of any affective, human quality. We may react mechan-ically to what we barely hear, quickly making preliminary and sometimes permanent judgments. As individuals and as a com-munity, we may focus,only on facts, with little regard for how all this decision or this expressed opinion will affect the people involved. Then we are no longer a community, but a computer. November-Decentber 1997 Whether the members are a "community or a computer depends upon how they share and deal with information among themselves, how they communicate with one another. A healthy community remains focused on people; it puts information at the service of people. A dysfunctional community operates much like a computer, focusing on the precision and,.processing 6f infor-mation; it tends to view people as servants of that information. A healthy community strives always to choose and decide wi.th understanding and love. By contrast, a dysfunctional community may be efficient, but is not likely to be person oriented. What needs to be done gets done, but with little regard for the vari-ables of human personality, for people's preferences and per-spect. ives, for the rich nuances that the talents and experience of the individual members could provide. Efficiency may be an important value, but it is no guarantee against dysfunction; only love can prevent that. The quality of communication among community members colors the atmosphere, the climate, the spirit, of their residence, marking it as either a home or a hohsing facility: In turn, that atmosphere affects the quality of relationships among 'the mem-bers and thus the witness,they present to'the world around them through their presence and ministry. Assessing the quality of com-munication within a community is among the mos~t effective and direct means of improving the overall health of that community. Community or Condominium? When the members actively establish and actually engage in their communal lifel the community's ;health benefits d.ireetly. Several elements are involved: first, common call and mission. The healthy commianity understands its call and articulates its mission. This becomes a source ofenergy and provides meaning and direction, with far-reaching implications for every dimension of religious life, from personal and communal lifestyles, to voca-tion promotion, to decisions concerning ministries and the use of financial resources. By contrast, a dysfunctional community drifts without a clear sense of where it is going or how it wants to present itself to the world around it. As a result, irreconcilably wide gaps develop among the lifestyles and philosophies of the various members and local communities and jeopardize the very fibers holding the com-munity together. Efforts to identify and maintain any common Revie~v for Religious call and mission are not a priority among the members of a dys-functional community. A second element of community health is mutual respect. Members have a certain maturity and respect one another's per-sons, possessions, and perspectives. This is not to imply that there will be constant and. consistent agreement; that is not realistic. Respect has more to do with recogniz-ing, accepting, and even honoring the differences among the members than with arriving at some superficial level of agreement. By contrast, a dysfunctional commu-nity has replaced respect with recipe. Its members work hard to redesign one another according to some image or stan-dard' they hold which may have nothing to .do with the ideals put before them by the life and example of the founder, or the constitutions, or the experience and capabilities of the members. Redesigning one another consumes much time and energy that should be directed elsewhere., ~ Third--this expands the preceding point--a healthy community celebrates " the 'members' giftedness. Rejoicing in one~ another's gifts is a concrete expression of respect. This assumes that we have made the effort to know one another's gifts; further, this effort involves sharing and communicating with one another. The challenge here is to go beyond knowledge toward: affirmation and even promotion of one another's gifts. This is possible only if we are secure and comfortable with ourselves, with our own individual gifts and goodness. By contrast, the members of a dysfunctional community tear down one another, not so much through specific hatred or dislike, but because of personal insecurity, being uncomfortable with one~ self. Jealousy and envy emerge from .low self-esteem and superfi-cial self-knowledge. If we feel and come to believe that Our gifts or talents are insufficient and inadequate, we may be tempted to build up ourselves by tearing down others. This may be quite subtle: a roll of the eyes, .a nod of the head, a sigh that commu-nicates "There he/she goes again!" In time the only comfort zone The quality o.f communication among community members colors the atmosphere, the climate, the spirit, of their residence, marking,it as either a home or a housing facility. Nov~nber-December 1997 Giallanza ." Communi~--Healtb~ or D~Cunctional? we may experience is when we maintain our distance from one another. We are polite, but politic: never disturbing or unsettling one another, but also never challenging and ultimately, never really knowing and loving one another. Fourth, a healthy community does, of course, provide and allow space--physical, psychological, and spiritual--for the mem-bers, as individuals and as a community, to be alone and silent, to pray, think, reflect, and relate to God. Maintaining and respect-ing such space requires a level of maturity and comfort that does not equate community with constant togetherness nor reduce it to comfortable superficiality. By contrast, a dysfunctional community sacrifices environ-ment and atmosphere to organization and structure. Though everyone has space, the community does not seem to be alive. There is no sense of an appropriate ambiance, a balance between the private and public forums of the members. Privacy tends to degenerate into secrecy, and public times together become safely and securely sociable. Shared prayer and significant interaction among the members are minimized or routinized to assure the completion of requirements without the responsibilities of com-mitment. Fifth, a certain spirit characterizes a healthy community. The atmosphere, the spirit, of a healthy community encourages the members to feel at home with one another, with the physical space, and with the rhythm of life. This spirit speaks more loudly to prospective members and occasional guests than any other aspect of the community's life. If our guests do not perceive that we .feel at home in this space and with this rhythm of life, then they are not likely to feel at home either. The questions confronting us are direct: Do we feel at home here? Is this an atmosphere which encourages~us to contribute, to be open, to trust? If not, why?- By contrast, a dysfunctional community has a climate from which members try to escape in one way or another. This is most clearly observable when the balance between presence and absence collapses. Personal activities of the demands of ministry are allowed to expand and overflow so that it becomes difficult if not impossible to be present for the community meetings, common meals and prayer, and other gatherings and celebrations as well. Away from the community, members feel more alive, and they feel a heaviness when it is time to return. They find it emotion-ally and spiritually draining to live in this community setting. Review for Religious Sixth, efforts to preserve unity indicate a healthy community. Recognizing the work and the sacrifice involved, the members enter willingly into one another's lives through appropriate self-revelation and compassionate listening. And they willingly make the time for that work and sacrifice. By contrast, a dysfunctional community no longer invests time and energy in the quality of its life. Its members may be quite civil and sociable, but they do not form significant affec-tive and spiritual bonds with one another. Their residing together is merely a coin-cidence of time and space rather than a reflection of a deeper commitment to one another. Given the importance of these six characteristics of a healthy community, when dysfunctional cl~aracteristics are dominant, we no longer have a commu-nity but a condominium. Everything appears to be in order, well organized, running smoothly, and comfortably .appointed--but the place is merely a habi-tation, not a home. Everyone is self-con-tained. People pass one another and exchange all the acceptable courtesies and If our guests do not perceive that we feel at home in this space and with this rhythm of life, then they are not likely to feel atohome either. appropriate pleasantries, but maneuver away from any deeper sharing. Obviously, a dysfunctional community can neither attract nor nurture healthy vocations. Those who desire to live in this way could easily find what they want in a well-managed and efficiendy operated condominium. Community or Cold Storage? Life in community necessitates some personal and communal qualities. Though any list is somewhat arbitrary, I would suggest that members of any healthy communit~ have some basic quali-fies that facilitate and sustain their relationships with one another. In their personal qualities, the individual members of a healthy community will have a rich diversity. These qualities, moreover, will vary from community to community. They will, however, include mutual affection and affirmation, willingness to apolo-gize and to forgive, fostering friendships, generosity, compassion, and joy. All these and others communicate a distinctively posi- Novetnber-Dece'mber 1997 Giallanza ¯ Community--Healthy or Dysfunctional? tive response to two simple questions: Am I / Are we happy in this way of life? Would others perceive that we are happy and enthusiastic as they observe our everyday life? This is not to deny the human reality of the striving of us all, with various ups and downs in community life, prayer, ministry, the vowed life, and personal relationships. Admittedly, these qualities may not always be fully evident in us, but it ig essential that we have a commitment and a willingness to make constant efforts to develop them. By contrast, a dysfunctional community seems only to exist, to survive. It does not give the impression of flourishing with all the warmth and beauty of human relationships. It appears to be merely a group of people occupying the same space together, but never encountering one another on a deeper level that calls them to life. A dysfunctional community does not and cannot commu-nicate that the members are truly happy to be living and carrying out their everyday tasks and responsibilities. Communal qualities do not differ significantly from the per-sonal qualities necessary for healthy community. In fact, they reflect the interaction of those personal qualities among the mem-bers. The health of that interaction is especially evident when community members genuinely enjoy one another's company and are generously hospitable to others. They plan for time together on a regular basis, and they safeguard that time as a priority. VChat they do during that time together is not as important as their tak-ing the time to be present and attentive to one another. That attentiveness will overflow so tha.t guests feel welcome to activi-ties of the members' common life. By contrast, the members of a dysfunctional community find time together to be a chore, and so they reduce it to a minimum, either by unchallenged design or through the deterioration of relationships. It would not be uncommon to find much loneli, ness in these situations, loneliness that is compensated for by hav-ing all or most of one's primary friendships outside the local community. In a healthy context, loneliness can teach us and chal-lenge us to deepen .our relationship with the Lord and sharpen our compassion for and sensitivity to the loneliness of others. In a dysfunctional community, however, loneliness takes a very dif-ferent direction: it tends to breed discouragement and depres-sion which lead to compensatory behaviors. Vv'hen a group gives little or no evidence of these personal and communal qualities, they have cold storage, not community. Review for Religious They live together, but only as if in suspended animation, with-out those human qualities and interactions that bring life and happiness and growth to a community. Even if the members of a local community are not aware of this and do not acknowledge it, their guests will see it, and, most certainly, so will those who are considering a vocation to their way of life. Given the realities, of society,today, many of those considering a vocation to religious life come from environments that have little human warmth, little sense of family. It is. unlikely--if they truly want to live in a healthy way--that they would commit themselves to a life of cold storage in a dysfunctional community. Community or Committee? Community is a straightforward reality. If we do not take the time and energy to create it, if we do not take responsibility for it and take initiatives for it, then it will not really exist. Community is never the result of spontaneous generation, nor does it work by automation. The mem-bers of a healthy community do not abdi-cate their right and duty to make, maintain, and monitor the quality of their common life. They accept the idea that reflection together, sharing, and bonded-ness are key elements in the health of community life. By contrast, a dysfunctional commu-nity seems to drift as the members wait for someone to do something, to take responsibility for moving the community forward. On occasion, some issue or sit-uation becomes a crisis before the members mobilize enough to respond reasonably. For instance, the demands o.f ministry may have been allowed to control the scheduling of regular times together for reflection and sharing, or some members' manipu-lative behaviors may have been left unchallenged for so long that the community now manifests a growing collective passivity. The challenge here is to decide if people's lives together will be a community or a committee. "Committe~" here means a tem-porary group formed for a particular purpose. Its members address an issue or perform a task and then they disperse. Maintaining relationships is not a committee's function; in fact, that could Community is never the result of spontaneous generation, nor does it work by automation. Noventber-Dece~nber'1997 Giallanza ¯ Community--Healthy or Dysfunctional? hinder its efficiency and effectiveness. In the case of a community, however, failure to maintain relationships compromises its capac-ity for being a prophetic presence and witness in and for our world. Community or Convenience? There is a genuine asceticism involved in building and sus-taining a healthy community life. This asceticism has some com-ponents. First, the qualities of love and unity in a community must be personal and individual before they can exist commu-nally. If as individuals we take personal responsibility to foster these qualities by helpful activity, then the group we belong to will do so too. In a dysfunctional community there is a wide gap between talk about responsibility and the reality of what is actually done. Everyone may say "we" do such-and-such, but, in reality, only a few take any initiative or action in response to the situation or issue at hand. Second, within a healthy community, care and concern are given generously and appropriately. Generously, because they are directed to each individual within the community. Appropriately, because they are adapted to the particular situations, personalities, and needs of the individual members. The sensitivity and aware-ness at work here are mutual, respectful, and inclusive. Third, individual, active participation is essential to healthy community life. If individuals do not participate in community meetings or contribute to common decisions, they get in the way of healthy community life. Really, there is not much middle ground in this regard. Silence and passivity are not automatically harmless to the quality of community life, Members of a dysfunctional community are passive partici-pants. Every dimension of their consecrated life--prayer, daily interactions, conversation at meals, attentiveness to guests-- reflects a general lack of energy and interest. The members put their energy and interest outside the community. Two means for facilitating this asceticism are personal accountability and effective conflict resolution. Calling one another to accountability is never easy to do, but it does mark the care and concern, the participation and love, of a healthy community. In a dysfunctional community, life together is lived at Review for Religious the lowest common denominator. Community members do not challenge one another, either because of fear or because no one wants to be challenged. Then the whole community will be only as strong as the weakest member; it will make progress only at the pace of the slowest one. Effective conflict resolution is indispensable. A community with absolutely no conflict is not perfect, it is dead!_How con-flict is dealt with in community can weave the members together into a magnificent tapestry of healing and love, or it can tear them into so many scattered pieces of cloth with no common threads. Often a small event or issue, left unaddressed, becomes infected over time, changing a community from health to dys-function, from bondedness to brokenness. If we are unwilling to practice the components of this asceti-cism and use the means that help us do so, we are no longer speak-ing of community, but of convenience. The dysfunctional community protects and promotes and projects a life of conve-nience. Therefore, whatever is inconvenient--whether it is related to prayer or practicalities of living together or personal relation-ships-- never reaches the level of consideration as a community priority. Convenience can assure that no one is upset, but it also guarantees that people will grow in only minimal ways. The Choice before Us The quality of our community is not a onetime choice; we must choose to live in love with one another day in, day out. If we do not make that choice daily and affirm it by our actions daily, we begin to live something else. Eventually our life together becomes ~omething else: a computer, a condominium, cold stor-age, a committee, or a convenience. We become something, but not community. We give witness to something, but not to unity and love. The choice is ours. We know well the words of Deuteronomy 30:19 calling us to "choose life." Sirach, too, .expresses bluntly the choice before us: If you choose, you can keep the commandments, and to act faithfully is a matter of your own choice. God has placed before you fire and water: stretch out your hand for whichever you choose. Before you are life and death, and whichever you choose will be given to you. (15:15-17) November-December 1997 Giallanza ¯ Community--Healthy or Dysfunctional? Three questions can assist us in reflecting on our individual and communal response to that life-or-death choice which is ever before us. First, what brings us together? VChy are we here? Is it our faith in Jesus and our desire to live that faith through this religious community and its mission? Or is this life simply a way to do a ministry--teaching or nursing or social service or pas-toral work or whatever? Admittedly, our faith in Jesus and the work we do are not mutually exclusive; but the question here con-cerns the foundation of our life's identity and meaning. Second, what keeps us together? Is it our love for one another and our efforts to support one another in living the way of love? Or is it that we have no alternatives and have become comfort-able? Or are we afraid to consider any alternatives? Having no alternatives and being unwilling to consider other options are not good indications that we have made a healthy and mature choice of what we are doing. Third, what flows from our being together? Is it the prophetic witness of our faith in Jesus and our love for one another? Or is it: our accomplishments? The compliment paid to the early Christians was "See how they love one another!" not "See how much they get done!!~ Healthy community is built and sustained by faith and love and witness. Dysfunctional community is concerned only with the work to be done, the status quo, and the results of what is done. Only a healthy community can project Christian life and human warmth and prophetic witness. These thoughts will close with the Gospel te~t which opened them: "Very well, pay Caesar what belongs to Caesar--and God what belongs to God" (Mt 22:21). Because he is referring to a Roman coin, Jesus speaks in terms of payment. His words remind us that healthy community costs something--we will have to pay. A healthy community costs each of us individually because we must constantly give of ourselves,° thus making our commitment to one another real in our attitudes and our actions. COmmunity costs us collectively because we must commit ourselves to make our life together a witness of love and peace and unity. Together we must call one another to this commitment. Dysfunctional com-munity is free of charge. Healthy community costs something. Individually and collectively, we must determine our willingness to make the necessary payment. Review for Religious EAGAN HUNTER The Elderly among Us Tue, we always have had elderly religious among us. But ~ two factors have changed the emphasis. First~ everyone is living longer, in the secular world and in the religious life as well. In 1900 only four percent of the total general population was over the age of 65--one in every twenty-five. By the year 2000 it is projected that as much as thirteen percent of the total :general population will be over 65. Life expectancy has been extended. It is projected that those arriving at age 65 today can expect to live approximately 16.3 years beyond that age. Second, the median age of religious communities is getting older, changing the dimen-sions of the concern. These two factors have made aging in reli-gious communities a more visible, more widely known concern. The problems faced by elderly religious are not necessarily a matter of increasingly poor health. Even though more vulnerable to ill health than in their earlier years, many continue to live healthy lives into very advanced years and some almost until death. Growing old is physiologically and psychologically inevitable, but these changes vary from individual to individual, with no pre-dictable'pattern emerging. Physiologically, advancing years bring problems of lessened mobility, gradual diminishment of the senses (especially sight and hearing), weakened ability to think and remember, Increasingly, heart problems and strokes occur, bones weaken, and arthritic and other impairments increase. Most older religious seem able to adjust more rapidly to various changes in their physiological world than in their psychological one. Eagan Hunter CSC is professor of education at St. Edward's University; 3001 South Congress Avenue; Austin, Texas 78704. Novonber-Deconber 1997 Hunter ¯ The Elderl~ amon~ Us Many times the decline of physical powers causes a brother or sister to remain somewhat isolated within his or her religious house, out of the "mainstream" and interacting less frequently with others. In the religious life we have been taught that one of the major facets of our existence is our contribution to the ministry and apostolate. Our religious formation tends to make us become self-sufficient. When the necessity asserts itself of cutting back on former activities once managed quite easily, older religious may experience feelings of depression, of uselessness. They may feel themselves a burden to others and no longer able to do their fair share. They seek ways and means through which to make some form of contribution to the common life and to the ministry. Sometimes there is a tendency for younger people to assume tasks which the elderly could do if provided sufficient extra time. In the interest of efficiency and effectiveness, we may become impatient and take the tasks out of their hands. Thus for the elderly the depressing feeling of 'not being able to contribute their part becomes magnified. Younger religious must seek ways to continue incorporating the elderly into the community's daily activities. The contemplation of retirement involves a psychological state, a sense of psychological withdrawal from the demands of one's ministry or occupation and the entry into a totally new ori-entation towards oneself and one's work. The taking of this step in our work-oriented society indeed is a milestone event and a very sensitive process. It marks a turning point in one's adult life, a shift from the middle years to old age. The extent to which retirement is viewed as a positive life transition depends much upon the attitudes of the individual. Some have more difficulty adjusting to retirement than others. Some are reluctant to retire, for their work seems to give their lives structure and meaning which is seen as becoming void in the future. What decisions need to be made when facing this stage of one's lifespan? What choices are available to the individual? Such a transitional adjustment incorporates a process of con-templation and evaluation of life's meaning and purpose, one's vocational call to service. It involves integrating the many expe-riences, meanings, and facts of one's life. It brings into focus one of the most incomprehensible concepts of all--one's own human. mortality. Such an adjustment involves acceptance of one's life with dignity and without too much regret for things not done, roads not followed. This reorientation phase of adjUstment should Review for Religious involve exploring new avenues and ways of being involved. The elderly who are well educated and who have enjoyed their work life will desire to continue some type of positive experiences related to that former occupation, but with lessened participa-tion and responsibilities. I had a great-aunt who was a nun. For some sixty years she was a successful teacher and administrator. With the limitations of advancing old age and the resultant physical losses, it became necessary for her to surrender one by one those things which she loved doing and did well. I can remember visiting her in their infirmary before her death. While we were talk-ing, a younger nursing nun entered the room with a tray containing a stack of small plastic cups used to give medication and a small bowl of soapy water. My aunt had insisted that she still could make a contribution, and this was her way. As we talked, she carefully and slowly washed and dried each cup. A contented smile of pleasure filled her face when the nursing nun returned an hour later to pick up the tray and complimented my great-aunt on the help she was to them. Even this litde bit meant much to my elderly aunt. She still was a con-tributing member of her religious community in her own little way. In my own religious community, we have a brother who cel-ebrated his hundredth birthday in 1996. For many years he was an active teacher, administrator, religious superior. In addition to the task assigned him through his ministry, he reached out in other ways to those around him. Before entering the religious life, he had been a member of the Souza band. It was this gift of music he shared with others over the years of his religious life through playing in various civic musical groups and symphonies. After a major stroke, one of his primary goals was to rehabilitate his muscular coordination to the degree that once again he could make joyful sounds to the Lord on his cello. Prayer, music, and his community became the center of his retirement. He continues to have many gifts to share with others, and share he does. Many of us feel the limitations that the ac6ve demands of our ministry place on our personal time. We sometimes feel there is not sufficient time to pray. But, for many of our retired religious, Younger religious must seek ways to continue incorporating the elderly into the community's daily activities. November-Decentber 1997 Hunter ¯ The Elderly among Us time is what they have most of--so we must plug into this spiri-tual "powerhouse." We must stress to the elderly religious that their contribution is to storm heaven in behalf of the concerns and problems being encountered by those in the active ministry. They can pray and are happy to assume this role of petitioner. Seen in the proper perspective, the lives of our older reli-gious need not be brooding or unhappy. We must give them our support and understanding, realizing the emotional tensions, phys-ical trauma, and disease which have become so much a part of their lives. We must remember that these are the community's elderly of today, and that the elderly of tomorrow will be us! How would we want to be treated? Younger religious must be careful not to participate in a form of age stratification within our religious communities. Such strat-ifying may be seen in the general society, with people being divided into classes and castes of various sorts. In such a society it becomes the norm administered to qualify or disqualify indi-viduals for desired roles and positions. Age is a significant variable in such social stratifications and becomes an operative factor in the qualification or disqualification process. Many of our elderly once held leadership roles in commu-nity undertakings. Through age discrimination such religious may feel that their expertise and experiences are no longer sought, that their role in community has been terminated. We must real-ize the symbolic value of their witness roles. It is their footprints that led our various religious communities to the roles we fill today. The elderly hold a vital position in the continuity of our religious life. Vatican Council II speaks, of the heritage of our various religious orders and congregations. We are asked to turn~ to the sources of Christian life, to the inspirations, conceptions, traditions, and ideals of our founders, as well as to those who fol- ¯ lowed later in our histories. We are asked to restore these to our religious life through modifications that meet contemporary reli-gious and social needs. The elderly among us are those who helped mold our particular institute into what it represents today. They,:are our living heritage, our legacy. Thus we must continue to reach out in order to -benefit from their years of knowledge and understanding of our particular mode of living the religious~ life. Their guidance and insights form a treasure which we cannot afford to ignore or'discredit. The elderly religious among us have seen their family mem- Review for Religious bers as well as their religious associates die. More and more of their generation is disappearing. Feeling the loss of these loved ones, they come face-to-face with their own mortality. The pos-sibility of one's own death becomes a factor of life. When young, we tend to believe we are indestructible--death is something asso-ciated with old age, and we are young. Time passes and the pos-sibility of one's death becomes a reality. Our religious beliefs provide us with a solid and positive creed. The Vatican Council stresses that we have been created by God and that, through the passion and death of Jesus, the terrors of bodily death have been conquered. If we live this life fully, we will be restored to whole-ness and a sharing in .the divine life which lies beyond all corruption. "Hence to every thoughtful man a solidly established faith provides the answer to his anxiety about what the future holds for him. At the same time faith gives him the power to be united in Christ with his loved ones who have already been snatched away by death. Faith arouses the hope that they have found true life with God" (Gaudium et spes, § 18). The resultant insights make it easier to develop one's own coping mechanisms for dealing with the future. Yet death remains a mystery. Our goal should be to assist the elderly to reflect upon their life's achievements done in the name of our Lord and to reflect upon the truths of Christianity related to the meaning of life and death. As Erikson points out, the last stage of the human life cycle encompasses old age and the retirement from the pro-ductive years of life. He sees this last stage as ego integrity.versus disgust and despair. The positive outcome of this last stage is an acceptance of one's self and one's life without bitterness or regret. It is a coming to terms with i:he approaching finality of one's life. It incorporates the avoidance of the negative feelings that one's life has been wasted, the avoidance of discontentment about one's limited accomplishments, the "road not taken," the task not done. Upon going blind, Milton feared that God would chide him for wasting talents and gifts that were now lying useless in him. An inner struggle went on until Milton reached the conclusion that, rather than rejecting the role given him by God, he simply needed to accept it. He phrased this acceptance exceedingly well The elderly among us are those who helped mold our particular institute into what it represents today. November-December 1997 Hunter ¯ The Elderly among Us when he said, "They also serve who only stand and wait." This quiet acceptance is difficult, for most people are action oriented. In the declining years of our lives, God is not asking anything heroic. Rather, he is asking for the quiet acceptance of one's infir-mities, one's physical disabilities and limitations, one's sufferings and pains. St. Paul expresses this acceptance when he says, "I find my joy in the suffering I endure for you. In my own flesh I fill up what is lacking in the sufferings of Christ for the sake of his body, the church" (Col 1:24). This submission and acceptance can be raised as one's gift to heaven. This is a task we all can do. These elderly religious have preceded us in the labors of our ministries. The burdens ~they carried frequendy were heavy. They did not trudge; they strode onward, for they were people of faith and hope. Approaching the end of their individual journeys, they need our support, our understanding, and our willingness to assist. This we must be willing to give them in their time of need. Simply this is all they are asking of us. To Mary, Journeying (A Visitation Song) "For all your ways~ are beautiful . " Be with us in the morning as with joyful hearts we travel tq carry Christ within us in silence and in song. Be with us as we labor on the hills and in the valleys with your care and with your mercy to all within our world. And when evening shadows lengthen, be our strength as still we journey to our God whose arms await us in the darkness of your peace. Louise Finn CND Review for Religious THOMAS MICHEL I Interreligious Dialogue and the Jesuit Mission "All good theology is autobiography" is a phrase often repeated today. If theology is a reflection on our faith and its implications, then the personal history of how God has acted and is acting in the life of each of us is the starting point for theological understanding. Moreover, as Jesuits, it has been a part of our communitarian spirituality from the beginning to "share our desires," that is, to speak with each other about the great things we want to do for the Lord. From this starting point I would like to share the spiritual desire that has dominated my relationship with God in prayer and work for the past quarter century. It is the desire for greater understanding and love between Christians and Muslims and my desire to make a contri-bution to that end. being missioned Transformation through Dialogue As a Jesuit and a priest,I am today a product of inter-religious dialogue. The way I live my Jesuit vocation is the result of twenty-five years of sharing life with Muslims, discovering the spiritual riches they possess, learning from them, being challenged by them, and at the same time Thomas Michel SJ, secretary of the Vatican Secretariat for Interreligious Dialogue, originally presented this article as a talk to young Jesuits in both Manila and Rome. He may be addressed at Curia Generalizia; Compagnia di Ges~a; C.P. 6139; 00195 Roma PRATI; Italy. ¯ November-December 1997 Micbd ¯ Interreligious Dialogue and the ~esuit Mission having occasion both to bear witness to my faith in what God has achieved for all people in the person of Jesus Christ and to explain to them my understanding of what it means to be a disciple of Christ. In more recent years my apostolate has taken me beyond encounter with Muslims and more and more into dialogue with Jews, Hindus, Buddhists, Taoists, and the followers of indigenous religions. When I reflect on what has been going on in my life, I see God forming me and transforming me by his grace, over and over, into a person different frbm what I "alas at the beginning of my interreligious journey. I am conscious that, when I teach courses on Islam or when I speak about Muslims, what I say and how I say it are different from the words of someone who has not had my experience of coming to know the Muslim community from the inside. When someone says something tha( pu~ts down or denigrates Islam unfairly, I ~nd myself reacting spontaneously and even emotionally, because they are talking about people that I know, people who have welcomed me into their lives, people whom I love and who have shown love to me. When Muslims are insulted, I feel insulted; when they are wronged, I feel wronged; when they undergo a tragedy, I suffer with them. When something good happens to them, I rejoice with them. When Muslims do wrong, to themselves or to others, I feel ashamed and beg God's forgiveness. When real dialogue occurs, no partner is left unchanged. When I see how much God has enriched my life and deepened my faith through my being in dialogue with others, it is a great source of hope and encouragement to me. For the same Holy Spirit who has been active in my own life is also at work in the lives of my friends of other faiths, using our encounters to touch them too and transform their lives. Most of the time we do not see evidence of this. We work in hope, which is, after all, trusting that God is invisibly active in this world. But God knows that we need encouragement from time to time and gives us "feedback" to keep our hopes alive. About four years ago I received such a .response from Said Khorramshahri, a pious Iranian Qur'an reciter. I had gone to Tehran to represent the Vatican at a national function and was staying about two weeks. Said, a graduate student in English, was assigned to interpret for me at the meetings and conferences that made up my schedule. Review for Religious During this time Said and I had many opportunities to talk about all sorts of things: life in Iran and in Rome, sports, politics, music, our own personal hopes and desires~ and, of course, what is deepest in our lives--our faiths. We shared deeply and hon-estly, and I could often feel the presence of the Lord when we were in conversation. When I returned to Rome, he wrote me a long letter saying that he never imagined that God would use his encounter with a Catholic priest as the instrument by which to pro-foundly change and deepen his outlook on life, faith, and his relations with others. I real-ized that I was not the only one who recog-nized that God was present and active in our encounters. This pious Muslim also saw that God was with us and that "our hearts were burning within us" from the movement of God's grace: I offer this experience merely as an exam-ple. Every Jesuit--every Christian--who has been involved in interreligious dialogue to any extent can tell comparable stories. If my experience has been mostly with Muslims, others could testify to some strikingly similar" experiences of God's activity gathered over the course of their years in dialogue with Buddhists or Hindus, Jews or Baha'is, or followers of the tradi-tional religions of Africans or Native Americans. The point is that, when we truly open ourselves to God in dialogue with another, the Holy Spirit takes over and guides the encounter. As the document "Our Mission and Interreligious Dialogue" puts it, "Open and sincere interreligious dialogue is our cooperation with God's ongoing dialogue with humanity (OMID §5). When we truly open ourselves to God in dialogue with another, the Holy Spirit takes over and guides the encounter. The Need for a Document The document of th~ 34th General Congregation "Our Mission and Interreligious Dialogue" is remarkable. For the first time in Jesuit history, the Society as a whole explored the inter-religious dimension of our Jesuit mission. Certainly, there were always some Jesuits who were involved in various forms of inter-religious dialogue. For a few it was their main apostolate, but for most it was something in which they were involved when they Novetnber-Dece~nber 1997 Michel ¯ Interreligious Dialogue and the ~esuit Mission had extra time, an apostolate they added on to their main duties. Dialogue was often considered a kind of luxury in the Society, of secondary importance to works such as schools, seminary and theological education, parishes. It frequently happened that stu-dents who were interested in carrying out studies on other reli-gions were assigned to other, "more important" fields of study like Scripture, theology, and philosophy. Most of us .involved in dialogue have had the experience of hearing a fellow Jesuit tell us we were wasting our time. "Why do you bother with Muslims?" I have been asked; "you will never convert them." Some comments have seemed to presume that interreligious dialogue and proclamation of the gospel are incom-patible activities, or that dialogue somehow undermined or com-promised the church's mission of evangelization. These questions show that the goal of dialogue was not well understood. It was confused with a type of soft sell, a way to insinuate ourselves into another religious community in order to make converts, or it was seen as a lack of commitment to bear witness to our Christian faith. Dialogue and PrOclamation One of the first issues that the general congregation had to take up was the way int.erreligious dialogue is related to the work of evangelization. It is in this context that the goal of dialogue can be understood. In the one evangelizing mission that Christ gave to his disciples, dialogue and proclamation of the gospel are two distinct aspects. Neither can replace the other. "They should not be confused, manipulated, or regarded as identical, as though they were interchangeable" (OMID, §7). Just as dialogue is not meant to replace proclamation of the gospel, so the duty to pro-claim the gospel must never preempt or negate the work of engag-ing in dialogue. The document describes dialogue as "a new way of being church," in which we discover the "deeper dimensions of our Christian faith and wide~ horizons of God's salvific presence in the world" and engage in activity that "grasps the deeper truth and meaning of the mystery of Christ in relation to the universal his-tory of God's self-revelation" (OMID, §7). What this dense the-ological statement means is that God is at work in the lives of all those who sincerely seek him and that sometimes God's grace Review for Religious produces anyplace in the world people of great holiness, gen-erosity, and love. God carries out this saving work among people of other faiths through the Holy Spirit, who makes use of the religious tradi-tions that people follow to lead them farther and farther along the path of true holiness. Sometimes a person's knowledge of God's saving work in Jesu's Christ precedes: the person is bap-tized and receives the fullness of the Holy Spirit. More often the Holy Spirit precedes people's knowledge of Christ. There is no contradiction here: it is the One God who is at work, whether in Christ'or in the Spirit. Quoting the bishops of Asia, the GC34 document says: "It is the same Spirit, who has been active in the incarnation, life, death, and resurrection of Jesus and in the church, who was active amongst all peoples before the incarnation and is active amongst the nations, religions, and peoples today." We see, then, that the deepest motivation for dialogue is to recognize the Spirit of God wherever the Spirit is at work in the world today and to praise God for the generous action of the Spirit. When we meet Muslims, Buddhists, Sikhs, and others who bear the fruits of the Holy Spirit in their lives, our reaction should be to praise and thank God. Time spent with sincere believers of other faiths is time spent in discovery of the many and varied fruitsalove, joy, peace, patience, goodness, kindness, gentleness, faithfulness, self-control--~at the Spirit continues to produce in the lives of other believers. Four Types of Dialogue and Their Goals "Interreligious dialogue," as the document points out, is not one thing, and the document outlines four basic types of dialogue. The goal of each type is not exactly the same. The dialogue of life is a dialogue on the plane of being, and the goal i~ living together in peace, mutually enriching each other by bearing witness to the values we stand for. The dialogue of action is on the plane of doing--working together to oppose whatever enslaves and degrades people, defending the weak, accompanying the poor in their struggle for justice. Its goal is to build together societies formed in accord with the will of God and in reverence for human dignity. An example of the dialogue of religious experience is what was going on during my time with Said in Iran. The goal is for those November-December 1997 Michel ¯ Interreligious Dialogue and the ~esuit Mission in such dialogue to open themselves fully .to God's movements (God's personal history in the life of each person) so that the Spirit can use them to touch and transform the persons. The dialogue of theological'exchange is to .clarify points of con-vergence and divergence, to overcome misunderstandings, half-truths, and distortions, and to come to a greater appreciation of each other's spiritual values (OMID, §4). It is not meant to arrive at a common formulation, to gloss over the differences between religions, or to find a common denominator on which we can all agree. The irreconcilable differences that we discover should nei-ther surprise nor discourage us, since we acknowledge from the start that each religion, is unique and offers its particular com-plex of doctrines and way of life. Dialogue in Patience and Hope If dialogue is about love (OMID, §6), then it is by examining the qualities of love that we learn the attitudes that must accom-pany our efforts at dialogue. In his great hymn on love in the First Letter to the Corinthians, St. Paul lists some of the qualities of love. It is. significant that the first quality on Paul's list is patience: "Love is patient, kind . oIt is important to spend time reflecting on the quality of patience, because lack of patience, in my opinion, is one of .the great causes of failure in dialogue. Patience includes more than not looking for quick results. I would rather say, "Do not look for results at all." In the Bhagavad Gita, Krishna tells Arjuna, "Do your duty conscientiously, and do not be concerned about suc-cess or failure?' We might paraphrase this advice by saying that the document "Our Mission and Interreligious Dialogue~' challenges Jesuits to "throw yourselves into this activity, without counting the cost or trying to measure the results." We engage in dialogue because it is our duty as disciples of Christ. As the OMID document puts it, dialogue is an integral element of our Jesuit mission in the world. We are people of hope, .one of the three greatest gifts that God has given us. We work in the hope that God will use our efforts in a way pleasing to God to advance the comingof God's reign in the world. Sometimes we hear people say, "What have you accomplished after all these years of dialogue? There are still religious tensions, ,conflicts, and wars." Review for Religious ~ The same could be said of other aspects of our mission. Those working for justice know that--despite years and years of tireless effort, sacrifices, even martyrdoms, despite vast amounts of time and energy spent--we are still confronted with countless forms of -injustice, oppression, and exploitation in the world. Recent years have even produced new forms. The occasional victories seem few in comparison with the rampant injustices still existing in almost every society. Does this mean that all those efforts at building more just societies have been in vain? No, we recognize ~that we have to keep on struggling in every age, culture, and nation to oppose injustice and defend the oppressed and marginalized. , It-is a similar case with interreligious dia-logue. At the same time that relations between the followers of various religions become better in one place, new conflicts and tensions break out elsewhere. Regions that have had long tra-ditions of people living together in peace sud-denly find themselves enmeshed in religious wars. On the other hand, reconciliation does occur where there has been conflict. People do learn to forgive and move beyond the past. Some peo-ples do find, often through much painful searching and with many setbacks, ways to live together with their neighbors of other faiths. We have all inherited two attitudes that make the effort at dialogue more difficult: One is the modern business ethic of quick and concrete results. In business, people feel they do not have time to wait. If they do not get the job done and done fast, a com-petitor will get an edge on them. People have graphs and tables .and prbjections to show how soon they can expect results. If they fail to achieve them in the time allotted, they go back to the draw-ing board to revise their policies. But it does not work that way with human relations. Things take time, and our efforts may be building a basis of fellowship whose benefits can be seen only in the future. The second attitude that makes dialogue difficult is an attitude of historical optimism that has dominated the philosophy of his-tory in this century. In this view, humankind, through education and technology, is continually evolving towards greater maturity, openness, and well-being. Obscurantism, ignorance, and violence are characteristics of primitive society and bound to be super- We engage in dialogue because it is ourduty as disciples of Christ. November-December 1997 Michel ¯ Interreli~ous Dialogue and the Jesuit Mission seded. In interreligious terms, many Catholics saw the period of the Second Vatican Council as a time when the old religious con-flicts would become a thing of the past. Dialogue would be the instrument of an inevitable result, putting an end to the misun-derstandings and divisions that kept us apart. Patience and Dialogue It seems to me that, if we Jesuits are going to make a contri-bution towards greater interreligious harmony, we must have a more realistic attitude. Dialogue will not solve all the religious conflicts in the world, just as our struggle for justice will never put an end to all forms of injustice and oppression. Rather, dialogue is something that must be carried on in every, society, in every age. Understanding and respect must be built anew in every gen-eration. The challenge will never come to an end, because sin is a part of who we are as humans and, where there is sin, there will be suspicion, hatred, and conflict. The need for patience is not only seen at the macro level of societies and nations. It is also the case in our personal dealings with people of other religions. We are all so full of suspicions, fears, and preconceptions. It takes much rime to get beyond these, to break down the natural resistance that we all bring to dialogue. If people seem unwilling, indifferent, or even hostile to invita-tions to dialogue, we should not be surprised. The burden of his-tory that we all bear is an obstacle that cannot be overcome quickly. We should also not be surprised if dialogue encounters seem superficial or seem to be characterized by an insincere politeness. This indicates that a level of trust at which we can relate hon-estly and deeply has not yet been built. That too takes time and much patient effort. We human beings are not willing to share what is deepest in our lives with people whom we are not yet ready to trust. Until we are convinced that the others will .treat our sharing with due respect, we tend to keep things at a nonthreat-ening, surface level. Only through the slow and laborious pro-cess of forming friendships and building trust do we arrive at the point where people can break through their latent distrust to begin to share frankly and honestly. But, if we Christians are motivated by Christ's love, we will find the determination and perseverance we need, for; as St.Paul says, "Love is always ready to excuse, to trust, to hope, and to endure whatever comes.?' Review for Religious I mention these negative factors, the effects of sin, because interreligious dialogue, although an exciting adventure of dis-covery of the manifold ways in which God lavishes his grace upon humankind, is also a path on which we encounter obstacles, set-backs, and frustrations and painful forms of self-discovery as well. When we are rebuffed, it is not easy to forgive. When we are misunderstood, it is not easy to go back again and again. When confronted with our own limitations and those of our commu-nity, we are tempted to give it all up and retreat to easier ways of life. However, as Jesuits we have a source of strength that we did not have even four years ago. We have the commitment of our whole Society--of our friends in the Lordmto engage in this aspect of our mission. We are helped to do so by our Ignatian vision that comes from our personal relationship to Jesus Christ. We are urged by the 34th General Congregation to develop a "culture 'of dialogue in our approach to believers of other reli-gions that should become a distinctive characteristic of our Society, sent into the whole world to labor for the greater glory of God and the help of human persons" (OMID, § 17), ' What a tremendous ideal to live for! What a challenge we have set for ourselves! ~Ours is the .generation, living immediately after and formed by General Congregation 34, that can make its document "Our Mission and Interreligious Dialogue" a vibrant part of our Jesuit mission in the world. Many foreign missionaries depend upon,people like you who donate subscriptions for them to Review for Religious. To start a subscription for a deserving missionary, please send $24 to: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Blvd. ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108 To pay by credit card, phone: 314-977-7363. November-December 1997 ANNETTE M. PELLETIER Misery Meets Mystery in Montenegro: A Survival Guide for North American Religious oes consecrated life possess the latent power to continue evangelizing North American culture? Current literature on the topic suggests that the "holy experiment" of founding a culture on evangelical values has turned ominously unholy. The pioneer barks that brought (he Pilgrims, Quakers, and Shakers are saidto be aimlessly adrift, having lost their orientation to the Holy. On the other hand, the heritage of integration evident in the cultures in the Southern Hemisphere, where Santa Fe (Holy Faith) was the principal colonizing feature, suggests the power of the sacred to perdure despite a history marked by gore as well as glory. Upon returning to the United States after a time of mission-ary experience in the cultures to the south, one senses how deep the ache for the Sacred is in North American culture. The pro'- gressive deconstruction of the core values and virtues that made the experiment holy suggests that our culture may have lost its. :heart.~ ',Although you express tous what is most precious to you, you do not realize how far we are from where you are," remarks Fred, Henri Nouwen's "world!y" friend for whom he composed his profound reflections, on what it means to be the beloved chil- ~ren of the Holy,G~od present in secular culture. "You speak from Annette M. Pelletier IHM c0nsid~rs this article, following upon her 'contributions to our Septembe~:-October 1993 and July-August 1994 issues, to be the conclusion of a trilogy on Mystery in relation to conse-crated life. She may be addressed at Convento Santa Rosa de Lima; E. Montenegro; Apartado 18-0703; Lima 11, Peru. Review for Religious a context and tradition that is alien to us . Many, many questions need: to be answered before we are able to be fully open to what you say about the life of the Beloved.''2 What is to be the role of us who are called, consecrated, and sent to proclaim such "belovedness" in this deconsecrated world; of us whose specific task it is to offer radical eschatological testi-mony of the coming of the kingdom? 3 Peter, a designated, author-itative witness of that kingdom (realized 'in the presence and per-son of Jesus), reminded his early Christian community "to always be ready to give a reason for their hope" (1 P 3:15). What, then, would be the reason for our hope that the consecrated life will con-tinue to exert a positive influence on a heart-less culture, one that seems no longer to have experience of the "Holy"? The "reason" for my hope. for not just the survival bat the flourishing of consecrated life in North America escapes the concrete directions suggested by the many and various scientific analyses of consecrated life that appear fis part of a search for a definitive future, The "reason" for my hope springs from what I and many oth-ers have "seen and heard" (1 Jn 1:3) of the Mystery of God made manifest in the misery of the absolute poverty in one of our sis-ter cultures in Latin America, Peru. Montenegro, a densely pop-ulated pueblojoven or asentamiento humano (shanty town) situated about forty-five minutes by bus from Lima, owes its misery to both Shining Path terrorism and the disastrous effects of "fujishock" economics on those who have fled from terrorism in the Peruvian sierra during the last decade. No sociological anal-ysis explains why the pueblo children still danced for the fiestas in their school, Fey Alegria 37, and the sisters and the teachers and families stuck together in hope despite the extreme poverty and the designation of the zone as "red" during the darkest days of the reign of terror.4 One "reason" for hope, then, can be the simple fact that this pueblo and its fragile institutions have survived, despite the unholy One "reason" for hope, then, can be the simple fact that this pueblo and its fragile institutions have survived, despite the unholy cultural influences of terrorism and hunger. November-December 1997 Pelletier ¯ Misery Meets Mystery in Montenegro cultural influences of terrorism and hunger. Here is hard:evi-dence, provided by real people who survived' to live, instead of living to merely survive. The madres solteras (single mothers) who raise children of partners who abandon them for another; the youth who are old before they have a chance to be young; the knot of little children who play on the step of the mission-house door--none of these Montenegro dnawim have access to analyt-ical research charting their survival or demise. They simply live their reality, struggling to survive, struggling to find. meaning. Without the luxury of an education, they meet Mystery in their misery on Mystery's 6wn terms. Even though most of them will never really better their lot in life according to North American standards, they seem not to have lost. the reason for their hope. Yes, large numbers may eventually resort or succumb to every vice that a culture of absolute poverty provokes. Yet there :are those who do survive with their dignity as human beings intaci:. Who are they? How are they able to survive? What do they have to say to the religious missioned to the first world, who also seek to survive, but in a culture whose very richness impoverishes the attractiveness, the beauty, the dignity, and the grace of a way of life in love with Life itself?. Could the observation ofMircea Eliade, the famed scholar of religious anthropology, be true: that the evo-lution of modern cultures has generated an atmosphere of intel-lectual elitism in which detachment from the patterns of traditional religion severs Western culture from its core values and belief systems? 5 So what recourse do persons consecrated to the Holy have if they are to survive the consequences of Western culture's demise? The Word had a special word for the religiously lettered and learned Who came by night to ask him questions about signs seen hinting the advent of a new world within the world. To the Nicodemus-like, Jesus counseled that the lettered and the elite turn and become like a child. Anyone privileged to see, hear, and touch the children who, despite the misery of their absolute poverty and the scourge of terrorism, sing and dance in the desert cannot help marveling at the mystery of their "unreasonable" rea-. son to hope. What do they, the "little ones," the ones immersed in the misery of absolute poverty, have to say about the mystery of their survival? Could it be that their link to traditional popu-lar religion provides them with the treasure which cultures to the north have lost: a reason for hope?6 , Review for Religious Who are these ragtag "children of the dust" gathered on the luxurious slab of cement gracing the mission-house front door? From early in the morning until late in the night, this mob of ragamuffins never seems to wonder about "survival," despite the dubious nature of their next meal. They do not have time to worry. They are obviously too busy creatively constructing their own livable-in-the-now reality. The ever plentiful stones and rocks are transformed in,their imagination to sports cars and trucks. Rags and bits of scrap paper adorn a gringa-faced "Barbie" in highest fashion. So actively engaged in living life to the hilt, these tawny tots are too busy having fun to be concerned about surviving. Sure, they are hungry and ill clad. By our standards they are woefully abused by family systems that claim "the more I beat you, the more I love you." But they are too resiliently cre-ative to let abuse or malnutrition get in the way of living. The ".proper7 things they deserve as fundamental rights--healthcare, education, food--hardly get a thought. One hesitates to say it, but, to almost every visitor, these kids on the step are definitely having fun. Their joy, laughter, unsuppressible desire to befriend anyone, especially foreigners visiting the mission house, betrays the secret entry of Mystery into their absolute misery. Their grasp on an unseen reason for their hope renders ridiculous the first-world worries about where God and religion and the church might fit in a deconstructed culture. "Multiphrenia" is one malaise the Montenegrinos never get. The inner' chaos caused by too much input from too many conflicting media sources promoting ever changing values is a postmodern misery they miss.7 Take, for example, ten-year-old Lorenzo, a victim of his father's abuse. Every so often Lorenzo is whacked in the face. with an iron pipe for not bringing in his share of the family keep. How could little Lorenzo, every visitor's fast friend, keep smiling, jest-ing, and joking despite the ugly scarson his ever dirty face? The Mystery of God peeks through his misery in his nonconcern for predictable "survival." That unerasable smile insists that God's Mystery is manifest even in this most undeserved misery. Just what is it that keeps that smile on his face--and so many others like his!--in this desert valley of so many, many tears? Does his smile betray a reason to hope that we cannot, yet, see? These stepkids also deal with the reality of too few resources and personnel to assure them of a viable future. Most children are without parents until late in the night, when Mom or Dad or November-December 1997 Pelletier ¯ Misery Meets Mystery in Montenegro live-in mate come