Suchergebnisse

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

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

Issue 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