Suchergebnisse

Contents: Confronting shoe supremo -- Exploitation -- Miners on scrap-heap -- Military wargame -- Rights lawyer arrested -- LBH's financial crisis -- Briefs -- OPM elects leader -- Election in West Papua Silence of grave -- Against plutonium -- Yamdena interests clash -- A peaceful solution -- Demo leader escapes -- Award for Araujo -- Nov. 12 anniversary -- Review: Death in Dili

In 1989, peaceful change, which a leading realist theorist had declared a very low-probability event in international politics less than a decade before, accommodated the most fundamental geopolitical shift of the postwar era and perhaps of the entire twentieth century: the collapse of the Soviet East European empire and the attendant end of the cold war. Many factors were responsible for that shift. But there seems little doubt that multilateral norms and institutions have helped stabilize their international consequences. Indeed, such norms and institutions appear to be playing a significant role in the management of a broad array of regional and global changes in the world system today.

By the late 1980s, the Middle East had become a solid base of operations for China's foreign policy in political, economic, and military terms. Put to the test of the Tiananmen massacre, the reliability of this base remained unshaken while China was trying to break through the Western-imposed isolation, paving the way for an eventual international rehabilitation. This was made possible following Iraq's violent annexation of Kuwait. China used the Persian Gulf crisis to restore its position as a great power whose cooperation is essential for settling outstanding regional problems all over the world. Consequently, China's strained relations with the West in general and the United States in particular have been gradually improving. At the same time, by insisting on a peaceful solution to the crisis, China has managed to maintain its image as the true representative of the Third World, having easy access to all parties concerned, friends and foes alike.

"The establishment of an autonomous Palestinian state in the West Bank is not in the true interest of the Palestinian people. Those who think immediate autonomy would be another step toward a new and improved world order disregard the history of almost every revolution from 1789 to 1989. The history of Israel, the West Bank, and Jordan indicates that if the Palestinians remain patient, within 20 years, they will peacefully assume control of a democratic government with an established bureaucracy, legal system, and economy. "Land for Peace" is a catchy phrase, but it is also a dangerous over-simplification which ignores political reality and historical trends. Israel's refusal to allow truly democratic elections and political freedoms has prevented Palestine from establishing a democratic tradition. Given the political oppression and violence of the last 25-year Israeli occupation, military and political withdrawal would be equivalent to the overthrow of an authoritarian or totalitarian system. Two centuries of history show that after the initial revolutionary euphoria wears off, the united revolutionary opposition (i.e. the Third Estate, Solidarity, and perhaps the PLO) splinters into conflicting groups that struggle to fill the power vacuum. Revolutionary states without democratic traditions slip into anarchy, civil war, and/or tyranny as in the cases of the late eighteenth and nineteenth century French governments. Even if the Palestinians were to establish a democratic government immediately after their autonomy was granted, the lack of a democratic tradition would make them susceptible to the same civil strife and tyranny that undermined the Weimar Republic."--from page 26

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

Issue 51.5 of the Review for Religious, September/October 1992. ; fo,r relig i ous Christian Heritages and ContemP0ra~ Living SEPTEMBER-O~OBER 1992 ~ t VOLUME 51 ¯ NUMBER Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-535-3048 ¯ FAX: 314-535-0601 ,÷ Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: .Elizabeth McDonough OP ¯ 5001 Eastern Avenue ¯ P.O. Box 29260 Washington, D.C. 20017. POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ° P.O. Box 6070 ° Duluth, MN 55806. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional offices. SUBSCRIPTION RATES Single copy $5 includes surface mailing costs. One-year subscription $15 plus mailing costs. Two-year subscription $28 plus mailing costs. See inside back cover for more subscription information and mailing costs. ©1992 Review for Religious for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Assistant Editors Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Michael G. Harter SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Mary Margaret Johanning SSND Iris Ann Ledden SSND Edmundo Rodriguez sJ Sefin Sammon FMS Wendy Wright PhD Suzanne Zuercher OSB Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living SEPTEMBER-OCTOBER 1992 ¯ VOLUME 51 ¯ NUMBER 5 contents spiritual growth 646 Spirituality, Spiritual Development, and Holiness William G. Thompson SJ explores by means of three personal examples the relationship between being holy and being devel-oped spiritually. 659 Listening as the Foundation for Spirituality Robert P. Malohey CM proposes that listening becomes a basic Christian stance for a healthy and practical spirituality. 675 Two Key Transitions in Spiritual Growth John Wickham SJ mixes traditional language and new approaches to explain the major movements from the discerning and affirmation of the self to ultimate union with the Lord. religious life 691 Seeking a Sense of Direction in a Time of Transition David F. O'Connor ST reviews the history of how traumatic changes in religious life have preceded new forms of dedication and vitality. 707 Religious Life in the Puebla Document Juan Ram6n Moreno SJ emphasizes the directions of religious life in Latin America given official support in the Puebla docu-ment. 716 721 A Collaborative Retirement Convent Kathleen Steinkamp RSM details the process by which two reli-gious communities established a residential care facility for their retired members. living spiritually Reinventing the Sabbath Dennis Hamm SJ presents a refreshing review of the meaning of 642 R~view for Religious 733 736 sabbath rest and its importance for the survival of our faith. Priesthood, Listening, and the Music Bishop Paul A. Zipfel instructs Dominican ordinands to reverence the gift of orders they will be receiving. A Diligent Compassion Theresa Mancuso relives both the pain of grief on the occasion of her mother's death and the long process of being reconciled with that loss. 743 754 praying Becoming Contemplative Here or There Marie Beha OSC traces out four strands of monastic contemplative discipline to give outsiders a close look at some fibers that go into a contemplative life. An Imaginative Look at Mary Jeffrey B. Symynkywicz focuses his imagined prayer or his prayer-ful imagination on how he sees Mary fitting into today's world. life directions 762 A Journey of Transformation Together Lorelle E. Elcock OP describes the steps of the process of trans-forming three Dominican congregations of women into a new unity. 770 Celibacy as Possibility Marie McCarthy SP explores a celibacy that is concerned about possibilities for life, for generativity, and for transformation. 644 782 789 departments Prisms Canonical Counsel: Communicating an Indult of Departure Book Reviews September-October 1992 643 prisms ~hat does a laywoman in Brooklyn have in common with a professor in Central America gunned down for his beliefs, with an auxiliary bishop in St. Louis known for his pastoral-liturgical style, and with a member of a religious community facing the prospect of no new members? In addition to being people who have struggled to live authentic Christian lives, each of these men and women has articles in this issue of Review for Religious. They join their voices with a treasurer of a reli-gious community, with a cloistered contemplative sister, and with spiritual directors, theologians, and administra-tors from Canada, Rome, and the United States to exam-ine a whole spectrum of issues of interest to the contemporary church. These women and men--and, over the years, many others like them--have written about their religious expe-riences in these pages. As they share their personal insights and practical observations about living their faith, our readers around the world benefit from their reflections. Review for Religious has been a valuable resource because of the rich diversity of topics it treats and because of the wide range of perspectives it presents. Have you ever wondered how such articles come to be published? One of the best-kept secrets about this pub-lication is that the editors seldom solicit articles for a par-titular: issue. Over the years a steady flow of unsolicited manuscripts has provided a substantial backlog of articles. The editors simply select, edit, and group the articles. We are constantly amazed at what comes across our desks. Each year the editors consider 250 to 300 articles. From these we select between 90 and 100 for publication. 644 Review for Religious After the editors have chosen the articles they wish to publish, their time is consumed by the process of careful copy editing, proofreading, and preparing the articles for press. The continued vitality of this journal depends on the contri-butions from our readers. Articles that appear in Review are writ-ten, for the most part, by nonprofessional writers--people just like you. That's right. People just like the one who is reading these words at this moment. But this should not come as a surprise. Some two thousand years ago a tax collector and a tent maker did not look on themselves as writers, but today we still draw inspi-ration from the words they penned. Moses and Jeremiah found words worth recording even though one stuttered and the other felt inexperienced. Many of us feel equally inhibited. Few people consider themselves writers. None of the members of the Review staff, if truth be known, prepared themselves for careers in writing or publishing. Yet each of us discovers that, at some point in our lives, we have something to say. We may, how-ever, have difficulties convincing ourselves of that fact. But consider the words found in the Book of Deuteronomy: "The word is very near to you, it is in your mouth and in your heart." The words we discover within our hearts often merit a wider audience. Have you come to a fresh understanding of prayer during a recent retreat or as you talk with other people who pray? Review for Religious would like to invite you to share your experiences and insights. Has the community or parish you live in developed a program or a new method of interacting that others could profit from hearing about? Review could make that possible. If some-thing strikes you as original or valuable, chances are someone else will benefit from hearing that idea. May we invite you to consider becoming a writer? Should you feel that you have the materials for an article that meets the mission statement printed on the back cover of this issue, con-sider putting it on paper. Review will be delighted to send you a set of writers' guidelines. These guidelines clearly describe how to prepare and submit an article for publication in this journal. Review and its many readers want to hear your ideas. And we will be grateful to you for the courage and hard work you will invest in expressing them. Michael Harter SJ September-October 1992 645 WILLIAM G. THOMPSON spiritual growth Spirituality, Spiritual Development, and Holiness For several years I have been articulating for myself and my classes a working model of the inner world represented by the terms spirituality, spiritual development, and holi-ness. In this article I offer some insights I have had as I wondered about how these terms are related. How is spir-ituality related to the human sciences, especially devel-opmental psychology? Is spiritual development the same as what psychologists call human development? How is holiness related to psychological wholeness? I will begin with three examples, move to a more technical exploration of the terms, and return to reflect on the examples in the light of that exploration. Rachel, an adolescent with cerebral palsy, is so severely delayed in her human development that she cannot attend the regular religious-education classes or the liturgies in her parish. Every two weeks she gathers with five other similarly retarded adolescents and six adult sponsors for sessions in special religious education, symbolic catech-esis for the mentally retarded. Joan, who has been her sponsor and friend in this gathering for five years, is con-vinced that despite her developmental retardation Rachel is a very holy young woman. William G. Thompson sJ specializes in the New Testament for adult spirituality and pastoral ministry. He has a doctorate in Scripture from the Pontifical Biblical Institute and serves as asso-ciate professor in Loyola University's Institute of Pastoral Studies, Chicago. His most recent book is Matthew's Story: Good News for Uncertain Times (Paulist, 1989). His address is Ignatius House; 1331 W. Albion Avenue; Chicago, Illinois 60626. 646 Review for Religious Katie Klein was born in Germany but came to the United States at the end of World War I. When I was a child, she came to our home two days a week to do laundry and clean our house, as she did for two other families. I came to know and love Katie. She lived a simple, structured, apparently rigid and unimaginative, but also very meaningful life. She went to Mass every morning before work, and she spent at least an hour after work reciting traditional prayers at home. I believe that Katie was a very holy woman even though she seemed never to outgrow the simple piety that had given meaning to her younger years. Before her death in 1950, no personal crisis or public event occurred to chal-lenge her way of living a life that appeared to be pleasing to God. During Vatican Council II, I was pursuing doctoral studies at the Biblical Institute in Rome. Day by day I interiorized the drama of the council as I received reports about its progress from a fellow Jesuit who attended the sessions. I soon sensed that the vision of the church in the modern world that was being shaped in the council's debates was tearing down the world of meaning I had put together for myself over the fifteen years of my Jesuit formation and education. I somehow knew that a long and subtle search for a new world of meaning was beginning. Had the Vatican Council not called us Roman Catholics to let our paradigms shift and leap to a different horizon of meaning, I might still be wear-ing the traditional Jesuit cassock and living the style of priest-hood for which I was so well trained. Spirituality Before Vatican II, spirituality as it refers to lived experience was an almost exclusively Roman Catholic term. But it has taken on a much broader meaning with the council's invitation to a new awareness of, dialogue with, and appreciation of other Christian denominations and of non-Christian religions. In recent years we have been speaking of spirituality as found in various Protestant traditions and in the various traditions of Judaism, as well as in Hinduism, Islam, and Buddhism. Vatican II also called us to a new dialogue with the human sciences, especially with the fields of psychology, sociology, and anthropology, in which spirituality refers to the human spirit apart from religion. Some even speak about the spirituality of antireligious movements such as secular feminism and atheistic Marxism. September-October 1992 647 Thompson ¯ Spirituality and Holiness Spirituality has become a broad, inclusive term that is no longer confined to or defined by religion. It seems now to name a human reality which is difficult to define but whose patterns can be verified in quite different religions and movements. It is no longer limited to the so-called "interior life" of those (mostly priests and religious) who "strive for perfection" through a life of prayer and virtue beyond that of the "ordinary" believer. Spirituality now focuses on the human spirit of believers and non-believers, on their lives as a whole, that is, on the physical and emotional, the intellectual and social, the political and cultural, the secular and religious dimensions of their lives.1 In recent years academic courses and publications in spiritu-ality have multiplied in response to the broad and deep interest among professionals in ministry and among academics in semi-naries and universities. How then are we to define spirituality? Sandra Schneiders provides the best definition that I have found: "Spirituality is the experience of consciously striving to integrate one's life in terms not of isolation and self-absorption but of self-transcendence toward the ultimate value one perceives.''2 According to this definition, (1) spirituality names our progressive, consciously pursued movement toward personal integration; (2) such integration happens when we transcend ourselves rather than center on ourselves and our own self-actualization; and (3) such self-transcendence takes place within the horizon of how we imag-ine, think, and feel about what is ultimate in human life and moves us toward it. For Christians our ultimate concern is God revealed in Jesus Christ and experienced through the gift of the Holy Spirit and within the life of the church. But a spirituality may or may not include God or Jesus Christ, may or may not be explicitly reli-gious. Clear boundaries between the secular and the sacred, between believers and nonbelievers, are notoriously difficult to determine. But twelve-step spirituality has taught us that for reli-gious persons reliance on their "Higher Power" may mean reliance on God, while for nonreligious persons it may mean reliance on their support groups. However, our definition of spirituality does not extend to those persons who organize, orient, and orches-trate their lives in dysfunctional or narcissistic ways according to addictive patterns such as alcoholism or self-centered eroticism. Self-transcendence moves us out of compulsive, addictive, obses-sive patterns of behavior toward more healthy relationships with 648 Review for Religious other persons, with ourselves, and with a transcendent Other, however we imagine and name that Other. At the heart of spirituality, then, lies self-transcendence? The philosophical meaning of spirituality is that capacity for self-tran-scendence through knowledge and love which characterizes humans as persons. We human beings actual-ize this philosophical spirituality within the net-works and patterns of our relationships with others. We seek meaning and are found by meaning as we interact with each other indi-vidually and in communities; and we seek truth and are found by truth in these interactions. A religious spirituality affirms that the proper and highest realization of our human capacity for self-transcendence is to be found in our personal relationship with God. Spirituality in this religious sense has as its ultimate concern our individual and communal believing in, hoping for, and loving God. Religious traditions that imagine and understand God as a person who relates reciprocally with individuals and communi-ties on earth have a religious spirituality. The religions of Islam and Hinduism, of Judaism and Christianity, all see our human spirit as responding to, dependent upon, related to, and account-able to a transcendent Other named God. These religions include images, symbols, metaphors, stories, laws, and rituals through which people encounter God and are encountered by God. In Christian spirituality God's Spirit within but other than our human spirit, within but other than the community of believ-ers, actualizes our capacity for self-transcendence by relating us in and through Jesus Christ to others, to our world, and to God. Our spirituality is at work when we implicitly or explicitly imag-ine- think and feel about, make choices and decisions about-- our everyday lives within the ultimate horizon of our relationship to a personal God in and through Jesus Christ and as empow-ered by God's Spirit. We Christians seek to interpret our indi-vidual and collective human experience as centered in Jesus Christ, guided by the Holy Spirit, and oriented to God. Our spirituality is incarnational and trinitarian. God initiates the personal relationship in and through Christ by the power of the Spirit; our spirituality, individual and collec-tive, reflects how we respond to God's initiative as we face the At the heart of spirituality lies self-transcendence. Septentber- October 1992 649 T~_~pson . Spirituality and Holiness, challenges of everyday life within our specific historical and cul-rural environment. Our spirituality is the sum of our responses to what we perceive as the inner call of God. It has to do with our vocation, that is, with the activities by which we find God and are found by God, by which we find a purpose for life that is part of the purposes that God has for our lives in the world. It has to do with the activities by which we are being created by God and create with God, by which we are governed by God and govern our world with God, by which we are being redeemed by God and participate in God's work of redemption in our concrete his-torical situation. At its core, Christian spirituality concerns how we live in part-nership with the action of God in our lives, whatever its pattern. It focuses on how God actively guides our evolving universe, including God's personal interactions with individuals and com-munities. It acknowledges that our human lives are created by God and destined to return to God. It is concerned with how we are aware of and respond to God and how we transcend ourselves to relate more deeply with others and with our world. As we shall see, this call to self-transcendence may also, but need not, include development, that is, movement in the direction of more devel-oped patterns for finding truth and meaning in our lives.4 Returning to our examples: Rachel, although developmentally retarded, transcends herself by responding to Joan's invitation to friendship, the human experience that most closely resembles faith. She is instinctively present to the other adolescents in the praying group, and she senses that the adult sponsors truly want to be totally present to her. Responding more often with smiles and gestures than with words, Rachel lives close to her feelings and does not hide them from others. She has no problem loving the others and wanting to be loved, even though her movement toward personal integration is slow and retarded. Katie Klein transcended herself by serving our family and other families as laundress and cleaning lady and by being devoted to God at daily Eucharist and in her nightly prayers at home. Her faithful devotion to God and her dedicated service of others dis-closed her ultimate concern; she lived cheerfully and peacefully within the horizon of that concern. Her movement toward per-son] l integration seemed not to include changing how she found meaning in her life. I was called to transcend myself by engaging the events of 650 Review for Religious Vatican II, letting them interact with and begin to tear down the world of meaning constructed over the long years of my Jesuit formation and education. From 1963 to 1968, I was invited to let all that the council meant slowly change how I understood myself as a Jesuit priest, as well as let its vision shape in me images of what my life and work would be as a biblical scholar in the post- Vatican II Roman Catholic Church. I experienced this process as an invitation not simply to move but to leap to a new and broader world of meaning and as a challenge to come to a different under-standing of myself in that world. Spiritual Development Human development is the lifelong process of growing, of changing in many different ways. We humans sometimes change to survive or at least to find meaning in our lives. Sometimes we choose new ways to realize our dreams and attain our goals. At other times we learn better skills and gain more expertise while remaining in the same relationships to others and to our work that give meaning to our lives. We are invited to grow and develop, however, when events so shatter the ways in which we have found meaning and been found by meaning that we inust move toward shaping new patterns that will be more adequate to our changed inner and outer environment. Our journey through life may sometimes take us to new vis-tas of knowing, to deeper realms of trusting, to ever widen.ing circles of belonging, to more creative and effective acting. As we develop, we are enabled to embrace a wider world, to acknowledge a more adequate truth, to live in a more inclusive community, and to enter more deeply into the mystery of human existence. A relatively young discipline, the psychology of human devel-opment was born in response to our modern culture, in which, expecting to live longer lives, we become fascinated by what the extended journey entails. We also sense that, as we near the end of the twentieth century, the global village we call our world is dramatically changing. We need and want to know how we indi-viduals and our families and communities are to navigate such hazardous times. Erik Erikson and Jean Piaget are considered the fathers of developmental psychology. For Erikson, the father of psychoso-cial theories, development is h series of tasks based both on bio- Septe,nber- October 1992 651 Thompson ¯ Spirituality and Holiness logical development and on how we interact consciously and unconsciously with other persons, with secular and religious insti-tutions, and with all that makes up our culture. Erikson names a sequence of eight tasks: trust vs. mistrust, autonomy vs. shame and doubt, initiative vs. guilt, industry vs. inferiority, identity vs. role confusion, intimacy vs. isolation, generativity vs. stagnation, integrity vs. despair. We never complete any of these lifelong tasks, but, as we move through our lives, one task more than the others may call for special energy and attention. For example, the elderly continue to work at the tasks of trust vs. mistrust and generativity vs. stagnation even as they are called to the final task, integrity vs. despair,s Jean Piaget, the father of structural-developmental theories, focused on the structures of human thought and reasoning. He recognized that infants, children, and adolescents come to know reality differently. He developed an understanding, of cognitive development in which a stage is an integrated pattern of opera-tional structures that at a given time constitute the person's thought processes. Piaget called his stages preoperational, concretely oper-ational, early formal operational, and formal operational. Development from one stage to another involves the transforma-tion of these cognitive structures in the direction of greater inter-nal differentiation, complexity, flexibility, and stability.6 Erikson's tasks, with their focus on what meaning we find in our lives, are related to the seasons of our lives, to our youth and adolescence and to our early, middle, and late adulthood. Piaget's structural stages, with their concern for bow we find and are found by meaning, are not so related to chronological age or social envi-ronment. As children we may have begun to develop formal oper-ational structures in which our experience of others is concrete, literal, and immediate. We may have created strong stereotypes of others, shown little empathy for those with whom we are not familiar, and developed a strong but simple sense of right and wrong based on regulations, law and order, and reward and pun-ishment. Since this structure is not age related, we may live all the seasons of our lives and address all the psychosocial tasks without moving toward the next structural stage of human development. We may continue to use existing structures as long as they work, that is, until our inner and outer worlds become so much more complex that we can no longer find and be found by meaning within those structures and patterns. 652 Review for Religious When we experience life as more complex than we have known it, we may be invited to move toward the next stage of human development, toward the next task (Erikson) or toward the next structure for finding meaning (Piaget). Crises, marker events, unfulfilled hopes, changes in significant relationships can create an inner climate of confusion, doubt, and conflict that invites us into transition. Rome during Vatican II was such an inner and outer environment. If we choose to respond to the invi-tation, we begin to separate from the images that have given mean-ing to our lives and then to float in between the old and the new so that we may gradually reintegrate our lives around more ade-quate images of how we are to know, feel, value, love, and act. As we change, we may feel weak, vulnerable, and out of control because we have begun to experience our lives as more chaotic than orderly. Nevertheless, we are drawn to risk moving or being moved toward more developed patterns so that we may live and act more effectively in our increasingly complex world. Transitions in human development are those more or less extended periods in which we gradually develop more internal complexity, more sub-tle differentiation, greater flexibility, and stronger inner stability. This is the place to ask how human development with its stages and transitions relates to spiritual development. We have seen that spirituality has as its concern how over time we integrate our lives in the direction not of isolation and self-absorption but of greater self-transcendence toward the ultimate value as we per-ceive it. According to Daniel Helminiak, spiritual development is the same as human development but with four characteristics that make it spiritual: (1) an intrinsic principle of authentic self-transcendence, (2) the openness of the person to such self-tran-scendence, (3) the integrity or wholeness of the person in question, and (4) an adult capacity for self-criticism and responsibility for oneself.7 Spiritual development, like spirituality, is a general human phenomenon that may or may not be religious. It is more prop-erly studied in the human sciences than in theology, particularly in developmental psychologies with a philosophical perspective. Spiritual development can be called religious when in our search for meaning we acknowledge a personal God to whom we are related and with whom we can realize our deepest capacity for self-transcendence. Christian spiritual development understands that relationship as the gift of God's Spirit actualizing our capac- Septentber-October 1992 653 Thompson ¯ Spirituality and Holiness ity for self-transcendence and relating us to God in Jesus Christ within the Christian community of believers. We Christians believe that God is present and active in the events that change our inner climate, that Jesus Christ invites us into transition and enables us to respond to the invitation, and that God's Spirit com-panions us as we separate from outworn images and learn to float in between, waiting patiently for new, more life-giving images to emerge. Spiritual development can also be described as our moving into deeper and more comprehensive love. Love is Jesus' only command and the standard of perfection in the Christian tradi-tion. 8 Developmental psychology considers this same movement from self-centeredness to self-transcendence its criterion for human development. Although Christians understand spiritual growth as involving more than psychological development, both the Christian tradition and developmental psychology have the same vision of human maturity, that is, movement toward greater autonomy for the sake of more authentically mutual and intimate relationships. Insights from developmental psychology can enrich our understanding of and help us grow into more mature rela-tionships with others, with ourselves, with the cosmos, and with God. Holiness With this understanding of spirituality and spiritual devel-opment, we now ask what it means to be holy and whether holi-ness is the same as wholeness. I agree with Daniel Helminiak that holiness has to do with the quality of one's relationship to God, while spiritual development has to do with the pattern of that relationship? A person can be holy at any stage of spiritual devel-opment; a neurotic person can be holy; a developmentally dis-abled or retarded person can be holy. Holiness has nothing to do with psychological wholeness, but everything to do with the qual-ity of our relationships to God and others, to ourselves and our world, whatever the pattern of those relationships. Holiness has to do with generosity, surrender, intensity, openness, and depth according to our capacity to possess and exercise these qualities. Holiness concerns our authenticity before God, others, ourselves, and our world, how we walk in these relationships, how we do God's will, how we remain close to God and others, how we live 654 Review for Religious in harmony with God, others, and ourselves, how we cooperate with the call and grace of God in our lives. Holiness concerns how well we respond to God's call to self-transcendence and enter into meaningful relationships with oth-ers and with all that makes up our environment. God's call may or may not include an invitation to move toward the next stage of human development, that is, toward more complex patterns for finding and being found by meaning. What counts is how open we are to God, how well we listen for God, and how well we respond to God in and through the relationships that make up our everyday lives. God calls us to holiness within our concrete histori-cal and cultural situation, whether we are developmentally retarded, as is Rachel; or we live with simple patterns for finding meaning, as did Katie; or we are invited to " move to the next stage of spiritual devel-opment, as I was invited. Our vocation--that is, the activities by which we find God and are found by God, by which we find a purpose for our life that is part of the purposes that God has for our life in the world--may include an invitation to develop new, more complex patterns for making meaning, but it may not. Holiness cannot be identified with psychological wholeness or correlated with spiritual development. A less developed person may be holy, while a more developed person may not. As we pass through the stages of spiritual development, we may become more psychologically mature, but whether or not we also grow in holi-ness depends on the quality of our response to the call of God in our lives. Holiness has to do with the quality of one's relationship to God, while spiritual development has to do with the pattern of that relationship. Conclusion Now we return to our cases. Rachel cannot manage in the usual parish groups of adolescents because she moves at a much slower pace than normal in her spiritual development. She has moved through the stages of grasping reality by exploring every-thing in sight (sensory-motor thinking), of imagining the outside Septentber-October 1992 655 Thompson ¯ Spirituali~ and Holiness " world to fit her inside world (symbolic thinking), and of identi-fying with what she learns (intuitive thinking). But her retardation makes her as yet incapable of thinking beyond what actually is to what is possible (formal operational thinking). Her adult friend Joan and the other adult sponsors are convinced that Rachel is holy and growing in holiness even though developmentally retarded. Rachel receives her vocation from God through Joan and the other adolescents and adults at their biweekly sessions in symbolic catechesis. She responds to those around her and to God with the capacity she has to symbolize and imagine, to know and be known, to love and be loved. Joan senses that almost imperceptibly Rachel is growing more open, more generous, and more authentic in responding to this call of God. Her holiness depends on the quality of her response to others and to God, not on the stage of her spiritual development,l° Katie Klein lived a regular, structured, apparently unimagi-native, but meaningful life. Her experience of others and of God was concrete, literal, and immediate. And she had a 'strong but simple sense of right and wrong. She moved through the tasks of adult life (Erikson) with early formal operational structures of thought (Piaget). Although capable of further development, Katie found those patterns adequate for finding and being found by meaning in her inner and outer world. Generously serving others and being faithful to daily Mass and devotional prayers, Katie became a very holy woman even though her life situation, God in her life, never invited her to move beyond an uncomplicated pat-tern of spiritual development. Within that pattern Katie responded more and more generously to God and walked more and more faithfully with God to become as holy a person as anyone I have known. In how well she loved and served our family, in how deeply she trusted God as she approached death, we knew that Katie's was a rich, solid, strong partnership with God. During my doctoral studies, the events of Vatican II invited me to develop spiritually by letting conventional patterns for find-ing meaning in my Jesuit life be shattered so that more adequate, more individuated, more autonomous structures might be shaped. As I interacted with the environment of the council, God called me to an experience of brokenness so that I might become more whole psychologically, more mature spiritually. Reality became chaotic compared with what I had known in my years of Jesuit formation. Challenged to change, feeling vulnerable, I risked 656 Review for Religious moving toward more complex patterns for making meaning in my life. God called me into this transition so that I might more effectively live and work in the world envisioned by the council. As I struggled through this developmental transition, whether or not I was also becoming holy depended not on the transition but on how well I was listening to and how generously I was responding to the call of God in that experience. Rachel was developmentally retarded, but l~oly; Katie was never called into transition, and she was holy. God invited me to move from the conventional world of meaning I had constructed in my Jesuit formation toward a more individual stage of spiritual develop-ment. Does that mean I was also becoming more holy? Not nec-essarily! We cannot measure holiness, neither our own nor other people's; only God knows the quality of that response to God. We can remember, however, and we must, that holiness concerns how well we live in partnership with God, not how far we have advanced through the stages of spiritual development. Notes ~ Sandra M. Schneiders, "Spirituality in the Academy," Theological Studies 50 (1989): 681-683; Joann Wolski Conn, Spirituality and Personal Maturity (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1989), pp. 13-29. 2 Schneiders, "Spirituality," p. 684. 3 Sandra M. Schneiders, "Theology and Spirituality: Strangers, Rivals, or Partners," Horizons 13 (1986): 266; Wolski Conn, Spirituality, pp. 29- 30. 4 For further discussion see Katherine Marie Dyckman and L. Patrick Carroll, Inviting the Mystic, Supporting the Prophet (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1981), p. 79; Benedict J. Groeschel, Spiritual Passages (New York: Crossroad, 1988), p. 4; James W. Fowler, Becoming Adult, Becoming Christian (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1984), pp. 71-76; James W. Fowler, Weaving the New Creation (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1991), p. 31. s For another approach to psychosocial development, see Daniel J. Levinson, The Seasons of a Man's Life (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1978); Anita Spencer, Seasons (New York: Paulist, 1982). 6 For a description of contemporary structuralists (Lawrence Kohlberg, Carol Gilligan, James Fowler, Robert Kegan), see James W. Fowler, Stages of Faith: The Psychology of Human Development and the Quest for Meaning (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1981), pp. 37-116; Fowler, Becoming Adult, pp. 37-47. 7 Daniel A. Helminiak, Spiritual Development (Chicago: Loyola University Press, 1987), pp. 29-42. September-October 1992 657 8 Joann Wolski Corm and Walter E. Corm, "Christian Spiritual Growth and Developmental Psychology," The Way Supplement 69 (1990): 3-13. 9 Helminiak, Spiritual Development, pp. 143-158. ~0 For an excellent treatment of the mentally retarded, see Mary Therese Harrington, A Place for All: Mental Retardation, Catechesis, and Liturgy (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1992). The Chess Game It seems you never give up needling away at my defenses. You come to me ready to play a game of chess where you are the seasoned player, and L the fumbling novice. Sometimes you move all at once your strategically placed artillery, leaving me helpless soon after the confrontation has begun. On other occasions you will move, with well-&ought-out expertise, your black knight too near the weakest part of my citadel. You know from past maneuvers I tend to abandon the safety of my ramparts in my hasty efforts to capture him. In the process I give you the liberty to rush into my undefended heart, capturing, as a victory prize, any false god who resides there. When you play, you are never content with a pawn or queen of mine. You want them all! Richard Heatley FSC 658 Review for Religious ROBERT E MALONEY Listening as the Foundation for Spirituality Each morning he wakes me to hear, to listen like a disciple. The Lord Yahweh has opened my ear. Isaiah YO:4-Y manuals on the spiritual life, and even in the classics? One searches in vain for a chapter on listening in the writings of St. Benedict or St. Ignatius or even in the writings of very practical, concretely oriented saints like Francis de Sales and Vincent de Paul. One comes up empty too in Luis de Granada and Rodriguez and in later widely used treatises on spirituality like Tanquerey. Listening, of course, enters these writings implicitly under many headings. But if one considers listening the foundation for spirituality, one might have expected it to stand out in greater relief. This article proposes some reflections on listening as the foundation of spirituality. It will examine, in a preliminary way: (1) listening in the New Testament; (2) listening as the foundation for all spirituality; (3) some echoes of the theme in the history of spirituality; (4) the contrast between an implicit and an explicit theme; (5) some ramifications today. Christian listening begins, of course, with the Old Testament, R6bert P. Maloney CM writes from Rome, where he serves as a mem-ber of the general administration of the Vincentian Fathers and Brothers. His address is Congregazione della Missione; Via dei Capasso, 30; 00164 Roma, Italy. September-October 1992 659 Maloney ¯ Listening where listening plays a vital role, especially in the Deuteronomic and prophetic traditions. Yahweh often complains that, when he speaks, his people "do not listen." Conversely, the prophets are preeminent listeners; they hear what Yahweh has to say and then speak in his name. "Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening," says the boy Samuel as he begins his prophetic career. Listening recurs again and again in the New Testament, where a study of Johannine literature, for instance, would reveal listening as the key to eter-nal life. "Whoever is of God listens to every word God speaks. The reason you do not hear is that you are not of God . If someone is true to my word he shall never see death" On 8:47, 51). Listening in Luke's Gospel In Luke's Gospel the listening theme is quite explicit. For Luke, as for the entire New Testament, God takes the initiative through his word, which breaks into the world as good news call-ing for human attention and response. Mary the model listener. As with almost all the important themes in Lukan theology, the listening theme is introduced in the infancy narratives. These narratives provide a summary of the theology that Luke will weave through his Gospel. The listening theme is among the most prominent Lukan motifs (parenthetically, one might add that in Luke's Gospel another theme is at work in many of the listening stories; contrary to the expected cultural patterns of the writer's time, a woman is the model listener presented to the reader). Mary is evangelized in Luke's first two chapters. She is the first to hear the good news. She is the ideal disciple, the model for all believers. Mary listens reflectively to Gabriel, who announces the good news of God's presence and tells her of the extraordinary child whom she is to bear; to Elizabeth, who proclaims her blessed among women because she has believed that the word of the Lord would be fulfilled in he~; to shepherds, who tell her and others the message which has been revealed to them about the child, the good news that a Savior is born; to Simeon, who proclaims a song of praise for the salvation that has come to all nations and a prophecy that ominously forebodes the cross; to Anna, who praises God in Mary's presence and keeps speaking to all who are ready to hear; to Jesus himself, who tells her about his relationship with his heavenly Father, which must take precedence over everything. 660 Review for Religious Luke pictures Mary as listening to the Angel Gabriel with wonderment, questioning what it might mean, deciding to act on it, and afterwards meditating on the mystery of God's ways, reflecting on them in her heart. The theme of listening later in Luke's Gospel. Luke uses three brief stories to illustrate this theme of listening discipleship, namely, that those who listen to the word of God and act on it are the true followers of Jesus. (1) His mother and brothers came to be with him, but they could not reach him because of the crowd. He was told, "Your mother and your brothers are standing outside and they wish to see you." He told them in reply, "My mother and my brothers are those who listen to the word of God and act upon it" (8:19-21). In this story Luke changes the Markan emphasis (cf. Mk 3:31- 35) radically. While Mark depreciates the role of Jesus' mother and relatives, Luke extols it, echoing his first two chapters and show-ing that Mary is the ideal disciple, who listens to God's word and acts on it. (2) On their journey Jesus entered a village where a woman named Martha welcomed him to her home. She had a sis-ter named Mary, who seated herself atthe Lord's feet and listened to his words. Martha, who was busy with all the details of hospitality, came to him and said, "Lord are you not concerned that my sister has left me to do the household tasks all alone? Tell her to help me." The Lord in reply said to her: "Martha, Martha, you are anxious and upset about many things; one thing only is required. Mary has chosen the better portion and she shall not be deprived of it" (10:38-42). Even though Jesus' statement about the one thing necessary has been subject to innumerable interpretations, there is little doubt about the point of this story in the context of Luke's Gospel. Mary has chosen the better part because she is sitting at Jesus's feet and listening to his words, just as any true disciple does. While there are many other themes in the story (such as the role of women and the role of the home-church in early Christianity, which is reinforced here through a Lukan addition), Luke empha-sizes the basis of discipleship: listening to the word of God. That is the better part (see Lk 8:4-21). (3) While he was saying this a woman from the crowd called out "Blessed is the womb that bore you and the breasts that September- October 1992 661 Maloney ¯ Listening nursed you! . Rather," he replied, "blest are they who lis-ten to the word of God and keep it." This passage interrupts, rather puzzlingly, a series of contro-versies that Jesus is involved in during the journey to Jerusalem. But Luke inserts it to clarify the meaning of discipleship once more: real happiness does not lie in physical closeness to Jesus, nor in blood relationship with him, but in listening to the word of God and acting on it. Listening as the Basis for Spirituality All spirituality revolves around self-transcendence. As a work-ing definition for spirituality, we might use one proposed by Sandra Schneiders: "The experience of consciously striving to integrate one's life in terms not of isolation and self-absorption but of self-transcendence toward the ultimate value one per-ceives." l For Christians spirituality involves "putting on the Lord Jesus Christ" (Rm 13:14), "giving away one's life rather than saving it up" (Mk 8:35, Mt 16:25, Lk 9:24, Jn 12:25), and other phrases that imply self-transcendence. The self is not obliterated through self-transcendence; rather, it becomes fully actualized.2 That is the Christian paradox: in giving oneself, one finds one's true self. In that sense authentic love of God, of the neighbor, and of self come together. Authors put this in different ways. For Bernard Lonergan self-transcendence occurs in the radical drive of the human spirit, which yearns for meaning, truth, value, and love. Authenticity, then, "results from long-sustained exercise of attentiveness, intel-ligence, reasonableness, responsibility.''3 For Karl Rahner the human person is the event of the absolute self-communication of God. In his foundational works Rahner describes the human per-son as essentially a listener, one who is always awaiting a possible word of revelation. Only in Jesus, the self-communication of God, is the human person ultimately fulfilled. At the core of the his-torical human person is a gnawing hunger for the other, for abso-lute Value. A particular spirituality is a way in which this longing for the absolute is expressed.4 But this inner yearning for truth and love, this "reaching out," as Henri Nouwen expresses it, can only be satisfied by a word from without--spoken or enfleshed--that reveals what true 662 Review for Religious humanity really is. In the human person the fundamental dispo-sition for receiving that word or Word is listening. It is worth notirig here that Genesis, the wisdom books, and the Johannine tradition all seize on the concept of the Word as the way in which God initiates and breaks into human history. The creating word bears within it its own immediate response: "Let there be light, and there was light." But the word spoken to the human person, who in God's image and likeness rules with free-dom over all creation, must be listened to and responded to freely. Of course, listening here is used in the broadest sense. It includes seeing, hearing, sensing, feeling, perceiving. "Attentiveness" might serve as the term for the various ways in which the human person is ready to grasp what comes from with-out. Listening in this sense is the indispensable precondition for self-transcendence. Without it the word that comes from without goes unheard, the truth that draws the human mind to a vision beyond itself goes unperceived, the love that seeks to capture the heart goes unrequited. Is this why the saints have so stressed the importance of lis-tening in prayer? ls this why obedience has played such an influ-ential role in the tradition of religious communities? Is this why the seeking of counsel has always been regarded as one of the signs of true wisdom? Is this why the Word made flesh and the word of God in the Scriptures are at the center of all Christian spiritual-ity? Is this why the reading of the Scriptures in the liturgy and communion with the Word himself in his self-giving, sacrificial love are "the source and summit" of genuine Christian living? Listening in Vincent de Paul One can find echoes of the listening theme in many tradi-tions. Ignatian discernment, which has exerted such a forceful influence on the countless people who have made the Spiritual Exercises since the sixteenth century, is a means of listening atten-tively to what God is saying and allowing God's word to work conversion within us. Francis de Sales, whose Introduction to the Devout Life has been read by millions since its first publication in 1609, spoke of the need to "be devoted to the word of God whether you hear it in familiar conversation with spiritual friends or in sermons." He urged his readers, "Always listen to it with attention."5 September-October 1992 663 Maloney ¯ Listening Here, however, I will focus briefly on another seventeenth-century figure, Vincent de Paul, whose writings are less well known, but whose charism has influenced enormous numbers of men and women, not only in the two communities he founded (the Vincentians and the Daughters of Charity), but in other com-munities that have sprung up under his inspiration, and also in the hundreds of thousands of Ladies of Charity and St. Vincent de Paul Society members throughout the world. The central place of listening in spirituality is not explicit in the conferences and writings of St. Vincent. But the spirituality he proposes includes several key themes in which the importance of listening is evident. Humility the Foundation of Evangelical Perfection Vincent calls humility "the foundation of all evangelical per-fection and the core of the spiritual life.''6 For him truly humble people see everything as gift. The humble recognize that God is seeking to enter their lives again and again so that he may speak to them. They are alert, they listen for God's word, they are eager to receive God's saving love. The humble know that the truth which sets them free comes from without: through God's word, through the cries of the poor, through the church, through the community in which they live. There is probably no theme that St. Vincent emphasized more. He described humility as the origin of all the good that we do.7 He told the Daughters of Charity: "If you establish your-selves in it, what will happen? You will make this company a par-adise, and people will rightly say that it is a group of the happiest people on earth . ,,8 Humility and listening are closely allied in that listening is the basic attitude of those who know that fullness of life, salvation, wisdom, truth, and love come from without. Brother Robineau, Vincent's secretary, whose reflections about the saint have just been published, notes that this attitude was especially evident in Vincent's conversations with the poor, with whom he would sit and converse with great friendliness and humility.9 St. Vincent loved to call the poor the real "lords and mas-ters" ,0 in the church. It is they especially who must be listened to and obeyed. In the reign of God, the world of faith, they are the kings and queens; we are the servants. Recognizing the special 664 Review for Religious place of the poor in the new order established by Jesus, Vincent was eager not only that his followers would serve and evangelize the poor, but also that they would hear God speaking in those they served or, as we would put it today, that they would allow themselves to be evangelized.1~ Reading Sacred Scripture St. Vincent was convinced that the word of God never fails. It is like "a house built upon rock.''~2 He therefore begins each chapter of his rule and many individual paragraphs with a citation from Scripture. He asks the members of the Congregation of the Mission to read a chapter of the New Testament every day. He wants them to listen to the word of God and to make it the foun-dation of all they do: "Let each of us accept the truth of the fol-lowing statement and try to make it our most fundamental principle: Christ's teaching will never let us down, while worldly wisdom always will." ~3 Abelly, Vincent's first biographer, notes, in a colorful passage, how devoted the saint was to listening to the word of God: "He seemed to suck meaning from passages of the Scriptures as a baby sucks milk from its mother, and he extracted the core and sub-stance from the Scriptures so as to be strengthened and have his soul nourished by them--and he did this in such a way that in all his words and actions he appeared to be filled with Jesus Christ.''~4 "Obeying" Everyone The word "obedience" (ob + audire = to listen thoroughly) is related etymologically to the word "listen" (audire). For St. Vincent the role of obedience in community was clearly very important. But he also extended obedience beyond its usual mean-ing, that all are to obey the legitimate commands of superiors. Using a broadened notion of obedience, he encouraged his fol-lowers to listen to and obey everyone, so that they might hear more fully what God is saying and act on it: Our obedience ought not limit itself only to those who have the right to command us, but ought to strive to move beyond that . Let us therefore consider everyone as our superior and so place ourselves beneath them and, even more, beneath the least of them, outdoing them in defer-ence, agreeableness, and service.Is September-October 1992 665 Maloney ¯ Listening~ Obedience moreover, is not the duty of subjects alone, but of superiors too. In fact, superiors should be the first to obey, by listening to the members well and by seeking counsel: "There would be nothing more beautiful in the world, my daughter, than the Company of the Daughters of Charity if. obedience flour-ished everywhere, with the sister servant the first to obey, to seek counsel, and to submit herself." 16 An Implicit Theme vs. an Explicit One It is clear that listening plays a significant, even if unaccented, role in each of the themes described above. The importance of lis-tening is not, therefore, a "forgotten truth" (to use Karl Rahner's phrase) in the writings of Ignatius Loyola, or Francis de Sales, or Vincent de Paul, or in the overall spiritual tradition; neither, however, is it a central one. Therein lie two dangers. First, truths that remain secondary or merely implicit run the risk of being underemphasized or distorted. For example, reading a chapter of the word of God daily can degenerate into fulfilling an obligation or studying a text unless listening attentively retains its preeminent place. Likewise, the practice of humility, when distorted, can result in subservience to the voices without and deafness to the voices within, where God also speaks. In such a cir-cumstance, "humility" might mask lack of courage in speaking up, deficient self-confidence, or a negative self-image. A distorted emphasis on obedience can cause subjects to listen exclusively to superiors, no matter what other voices might say, even voices that conscience demands that we listen to. Conversely, it could cause a superior to insist loudly that he only has to "listen" to the advice of others, .not follow it (whereas in such instances he may usu-ally listen to almost no one but himself). But when listening retains a place at the center, the danger of distortion is lessened. Reading the word of God, practicing humility, and obeying are seen as means for hearing what God is saying. The accent remains on attentiveness. Second, when the importance of listening is underempha-sized, there is a subtle tendency to focus on particular practices to the detriment of others or to be attentive to certain voices while disregarding others. For instance, a member of a community might pray mightily, seeking to discern what God is saying, but pay little attention to what a superior or spiritual director who 666 Review for Religious knows the person well is trying to say. He or she may listen "tran-scendentally" or "vertically," so to speak, but show little concern for listening "horizontally." Along similar lines, a superior might be very confident that, because of the grace of his office, God lets him know what his will is, while other persons, by the grace of their office, are desperately trying to signify to the same supe-rior that God is saying something quite different. The simple truth is that we must listen to many voices since God speaks to us in many ways. Some of these ways are obviously privileged, but none has an exclusive hold on the truth. Some Ramifications In his wonderful book on community, Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote: The first service that one owes to others in the community consists in listening to them. Just as love of God begins by listening to his Word, so the beginning of love for the brethren is learning to listen to them. It is because of God's love for us that he not only gives us his Word but also lends us his ear. So it is his work that we do for our brother when we learn to listen to him. Christians, especially ministers, so often think they must always contribute something when they are in the company of others, that this is the one ser-vice they have to render. They forget that listening can be a greater service than speaking. Many people are looking for an ear that will listen. They do not find it among Christians, because these Christians are talking where they should be listening. But he who can no longer listen to his brother will soon be no longer listening to God either, he will be doing nothing but prattle in the presence of God too. This is the beginning of the death of the spiritual life. 17 If listening is so crucial to healthy spirituality, then how might members of communities grow in it, both as individuals and in common? Listening as Individuals From reflection on the church's long spiritual tradition, one might glean a number of qualities that characterize good listen-ers. Here I will touch briefly on four, which seem to me crucial for better listening. The first indispensable quality for good listening is humiliW. September- October 1992 667 It is "the foundation of all evangelical perfection, the core of the spiritual life," as Vincent de Paul put it.is Humble people sense their incompleteness, their need for God and other human per-sons. So they listen. Humility acknowledges that everything is gift; it sees clearly that all good things come from God. St. Vincent writes to a priest of the Mission: "Because we recognize that this abundant grace comes from God, a.grace which he keeps on giving only to the humble who realize that all the good done through them comes from God, I beg him with all my heart to give you more and more the spirit of humility." t9 But consciousness of one's incompleteness has a further dimension. It is not only "vertical," so to speak, but "horizontal"; we depend not only on God direcdy, but on God's creation around us. Truth, then, comes from listening not only to God himself, but to other human persons, through whom God's presence and words are mediated to us. The hunger for truth and love that lie at the heart of the mystery of the human person is satisfied only from without. We are inherently social, living within a complex network of relationships with individuals and with society. It is only when what is heard is pondered that its full mean-ing is revealed. The second quality necessary for better listening, then, is prayerful reflectiveness. While at times one can hear God speak even in a noisy crowd, it is often only in silence that one hears the deepest voices, that one plumbs the depth of meaning. The Psalmist urges us: "Be still and know that I am God" (Ps 46:10). The Gospels, particularly Luke's, attest that Jesus turns to his Father again and again in prayer to listen to him and to seek his will. Prayer is then surely one of the privileged ways of lis-tening. But it must always be validated by life. One who listens to "what God is telling me" in prayer, but who pays little heed to what others are saying in daily life, is surely suspect. Prayer must be in continual contact with people and events, since God speaks not only in the silence of our hearts, but also (and often first of all) in the people around us. Because prayer is a meeting with God himself, what we say in prayer is much less important than what God says to us. When there is too much emphasis on what we say or do during prayer, it can easily become a "good work," an "achievement," a "speech," rather than a "grace," a "gift," a "gratuitous word" from God. 668 Review for Religious Naturally, prayer, like all human activities, involves structures, personal discipline, persevering effort. But the emphasis must always be on the presence of the personal God, to whose word we must listen attentively as he speaks to us the good news of his love for us and for others. In an era when there is much noise, where the media, if we so choose, speak to us all day long, one must surely ask: Are we able to distinguish the voice of God among the many voices that are speaking? Is God's word able to say "new things" to us? Are we still capable of wonder? As may be evident to the reader, the word wonder has an etymological kinship, through German, with wound. Is the word of God able to wound us, to pen-etrate the membrane that seals us off, that encloses us within ourselves? Can it break into our consciousness and change us? The third necessary quality is respect for the words of human persons. It is here perhaps that the tradition was weakest. It did emphasize humility. It Prayer must be in continual contact with people and events, since God speaks not only in the silence of our hearts, but also in the people around us. did accent the need to hear what God is saying and to discern his will. But it rarely focused explicitly, in the context of spirituality, on the central place of listening to other people. Many contemporary documents put great emphasis on the dignity of human persons and on the importance of hearing the cries that come from their hearts. Vatican II's Gaudium et Spes and the encyclical Redemptor Hominis see the human person as the center of creation,z° Centesimus Annus puts it strikingly: "Today the church's social doctrine focuses especially on man . ,,2~ Respect for human persons acknowledges that God lives in them and that he reveals himself in and through them. It acknowl-edges that words of life come from the lowly as well as the pow-erful. In fact, St. Vincent became gradually convinced that "the poor have the true religion" and that we must be evangelized by them.22 Many of the recently published texts of Brother Louis Robineau, which relate his pe,rsonal experience of Vincent de Paul, attest to the saint's deep, respect for persons of all types. September-October 1992 669 Maloney ¯ Listening Attentiveness is an indispensable means for creating authentic communities. Robineau notes how well Vincent listened to them: poor and rich, lay and clerical, peasant and royal.23 In this context, the process of questioning persons that is involved in the quest for truth takes on a new light. When there is deep respect for all human persons, questioning involves a genuine search for enlightenment, rather than being, in some hidden way, refutation or accusation. Questioning is a tool for delving deeper, for unpeeling layers of meaning, for knowing the other person bet-ter, for digging toward the core of the truth. As we attempt to develop increasing respect for human persons, surely we must ask some challenging questions. Are we really able to hear the cries of the poor, of the most oppressed: the women and chil-dren, who are often the poorest members of society; those discriminated against because of race, color, nationality, religion; the AIDS victims, who are often shunned by their families and by the physically healthy; those on the "edges of life," the helpless infants and the helpless aged, who are unable to speak for themselves? Are we able to hear the counsel given to us by others: by spiritual directors, by members of our own com-munities, by the documents of the church and our own religious congregations? Are we sensitive to the contributions that come from other sources of human wisdom (like economics, sociology, the audiovisual media, the massive data now available in com-puterized form) that often speak concretely about the needs of the poor, that can help us find and combat the causes of poverty or that can assist us in the new evangelization called for by the church? Are we alert, "listening," to the "signs of the times": the increasing gap between the rich and the poor and the repeated call for justice made by the church; the movement toward unity within global society, which is now accompanied by an opposite movement toward separatism and nationalism; the growth of the church in the southern hemisphere, which contrasts with its diminishment in many places in the northern hemisphere. The fourth quality needed is attentiveness, one of the most important signs of respect for the human person. It is the first step in all evangelization, the prerequisite for serving Christ in the poor. It is only when the servant is attentive to the needs of the master (in this case, the poor person) that he really knows what to 670 Review for Religious bring him. It is only when the evangelizer is alert to the needs of the listener that she is able to communicate genuinely good news. Attentiveness is an indispensable means for creating authen-tic communities. If community members do not pay close atten-tion to the opinions and needs of those they live with, each person becomes isolated even if still physically present to others. Those living in community must therefore continually seek renewed ways of listening to each other and of sharing their prayer, their apostolic experience, their struggles in community, their successes and failures, their joys and sorrows. Attentiveness is also of the greatest importance as one seeks counsel. Robineau relates how often St. Vincent asked others their' opinion about matters at hand, "even the least in the house." He often heard him say that "four eyes are better than two, and six better than four.''24 Robineau relates an interesting incident in this regard: One day he did me the honor of telling me that it was nec-essary to make it our practice, when consulting someone about some matter, always to recount everything that would be to the advantage of the opposing party without omitting anything, just as if it were the opposing party itself that was there to give its reasons and defend itself, and that it was thus that consultations should be carried out.zs Listening in Community Meetings, along with consultations and questionnaires of var-ious sorts, are among the primary means of listening in commu-nity. Like most realities, meetings are "for better or for worse." Almost all of us have experienced some that we find very fruitful and others that we would be happy to forget about. To put it in another way, meetings can be a time of grace or a time when sin threatens grace. Communities, like individuals, can become caught up in them-selves. A healthy self-concern can gradually slip into an unhealthy self-preoccupation. Outgoing zeal can be replaced by self-cen-tered security seeking. Communities can be rescued from this state, in a way analogous to that of individuals, only through cor-porate humility,26 a communal effort to listen to God and com-munal attentiveness to the words of others. September-October 1992 671 Maloney ¯ Listening Meetings can be a time when sin threatens grace. When there is no listening, they create strife and division. They disrupt rather than unify. They deepen the darkness rather than focus the light. Among the signs that sin is at work in meetings is fighting. When participants do not listen, there is inevitable strife, bad feelings, disillusionment, bitterness. Such meetings result in fleeing. The group backs away from major decisions, especially those that demand some conversion; it refuses to listen to the prophets; it seeks refuge in the status quo. A further consequence is fractur-ing. When participants do not listen, badly divided splinter groups form; the "important" conversations take place in the corridors rather than in the meeting hall; politics, in the worst sense, takes the place of discernment. Meetings can be an opportunity for grace. They provide us with a wonderful opportunity for listening and discernment. They enable communities to work toward decisions together, as a com-munity. In order for this to happen, those who meet must be com-mitted to sharing their common heritage, creating a climate of freedom for discussion, and planning courageously for the future. In meetings where God is at work, we recall our heritage in order to renew it. We listen to and retell "our story." We recount and rehear the deeds of the Lord in our history. We celebrate our gratitude in the Eucharist and let thanksgiving fill our hearts, for we have heard the wonderful works of the Lord. We share com-munal prayer and reflection because the faith of others strength-ens us. The atmosphere will be grace-filled if all are eager to listen to each other. If all arrive without hardened positions and preju-dices, convinced that the group must seek the truth together, then the groundwork for the emergence of truth has already been laid. The content, no matter how concrete or seemingly pedes-trian, will be grace-filled if all hear the word of God together, listen to each other's reflections on that word, and make deci-sions on that basis. The decisions of a listening community will flow from its heritage while developing the heritage in the light of contemporary circumstances.27 Meetings play an important role within God's providence. God provides for the growth of communities through wise deci-sions that govern their future, especially the training of the young, the ongoing formation of all members, and care for the aging. But such decisions can be made only if the members of the com- 672 Review for Religious munity are willing to listen to the data that describes its present situation and projects its future needs. Communal decision mak-ing, based on realistic projections, is one of the ways in which providence operates in community life. Failure to listen to the data--difficult though it may sometimes be to "hear" it honestly-- results in calamitous "blindness" and "deafness." The listening individual and the listening community will surely grow, for listening is the foundation of all spirituality. To the listener come truth, wisdom, the assurance of being loved. To those who fail to listen comes increasing isolation. Jesus, like the prophets, knew that listening made demands and consequently was often lacking. He lamented its absence: "Sluggish indeed is this people's heart. They have scarcely heard with their ears, they have firmly closed their eyes; otherwise they might see with their eyes, and hear with their ears, and under-stand with their hearts, and turn back to me, and I should heal them" (Mt 13:15). He also rejoiced in its presence: "But . . . blessed are your ears because they hear" (Mt 13:16). In recent years many congregations have attempted to assist individuals, local communities, and assemblies to listen better, In workshops much effort has been put into fostering practical lis-tening skills. But are there ways in which communities, particu-larly during initial formation, can better communicate the importance of listening as foundational for growth? If listening is the foundation of all spirituality, as this article has tried to show, then it is crucial for personal growth and for the vitality of all communities. Notes ~ Sandra Schneiders, "Spirituality in the Academy," Theological Studies 50 (1989): 684. 2 See Ga 2:19-21: "I have been crucified with Christ, and the life I live now is not my own: Christ is living in me. Of course, I still live my human life, but it is a life of faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me." The Greek text identifies Jesus as the self-giving one. It also makes it clear that self-transcendence does not wipe out true human-ity, but fulfills it. 3 Bernard Lonergan, A Third Collection, ed. Frederick Crowe (New York: Paulist, 1985), p. 9. 4 See K. Rahner, Grundkurs des Glaubens (Freiburg: Herder, 1984), pp. 35f, 42f. Septewtber-October 1992 673 Maloney ¯ Listening s Francis de Sales, Introduction to the Devout Life, trans. John K. Ryan (New York: Doubleday, 1972), pp. 107 and 108. 6 Common Rules H, 7. 7 SV IX, 674; see Common Rules H, 7. 8 SV X, 439. 9 Andrd Dodin, ed., Monsieur Vincent racontdpar son secrdtaire (Paris: O.E.I.L., 1991), §46 and §54. 10 See SVIX, 119; X, 332. 1~ See Evangelii Nuntiandi, §15. 12 Common Rules H, 1. ,3 Ibid. 14 Abelly, Book III, 72-73. ~s SV XI, 69. ~6SV IX, 526. ~7 D. Bonhoeffer, Life Together (London: SCM Press, 1954), p. 75. ~Common Rules H, 7. 19 SV I, 182. 20 Gaudium et Spes, §§9, 12, and 22; Redemptor Hominis, passim. 21 Centesimus Annus, ~54. 22 SV XII, 171. 23 Andrd Dodin, ed., Monsieur Vincent racont? par son secrdtaire (Paris: O.E.LL., 1991), especially §§71-83. 24 Ibid, §52. 25 Ibid, §118. 26 Vincent de Paul repeatedly emphasized the need for corporate humility if the congregations he founded were to grow. See SV II, 233: "I think the spirit of the Mission must be to seek its greatness in lowli-ness and its reputation in the love of its abjection." 27 In his essays on spirituality, Karl Rahner distinguishes between "material" and "formal" imitation of Christ. In material imitation, one seeks to do the concrete things that Jesus did, ignoring the extent to which everything he did was influenced by his social context. In formal imitation, one seeks to find the core meaning of what Jesus said or did and apply it within the changed social context. 674 Review for Religious JOHN WICKHAM Two Key Transitions in Spiritual Growth Both in coming to understand our own spiritual develop-ment and (should we be engaged in spiritual direction) in reflecting on where a directee of ours may presently be moving, a sense of the various kinds of transition that often occur can be a great help. I assume here that spiritual growth (changes, new data) are to be expected, are even to be sought. Quite a number of transitions are possible. One can move, for example, from a life of mortal sin to a life of sanctifying grace, from a rather legalistic reliance on external rules to a life of per-sonal choices; or, at the other end of the spectrum, one can move from a devout life to a life of advanced mystical prayer. But two other transitions deserve, I think, special attention today. The two developments I have in mind are often at issue in the Spiritual Exercises ofSt. Ignatiushone of them in the First and Second Weeks taken as a whole, and the other in the unit formed by the Third and Fourth Weeks. In his active spirituality St. Ignatius may be said to have reshaped the "Three Ways" (purgative, illuminative, unitive) into two spiritual transitions, each of which reveals both a negative and a positive side. This essay will attempt to describe and study these two major movements that occur in many dedicated lives. After each of them has been clarified, their relationship and especially their differ-ences will require comment. John Wickham sJ is director of the Ignatian Centre of Spirituality, which prepares and accredits directors. His address is 4567 West Broadway; Montreal, Quebec H4B 2A7; Canada. Septentber-October 1992 675 The First Transition Assuming, as St. Ignatius does at the start of his First Week Rules for Discernment, that we are in touch with persons living a good Christian life, striving to get free of sinful ways and to grow into closer union with God, then this first important tran-sition may be seen to move from relying mainly on getting emo-tional satisfaction to discerning spiritual consolations received from the Lord and felt in the heart. This formulation makes a contrast between emotions and feelings (or felt knowing). Emotions in this usage refer to per-sonal responses to objects in the external world around us (through our five senses) and to interpersonal events in our social setting. There is nothing wrong, of course, with emotional expe-riences. Emotions are often the main stuff of human life. In their endless varieties they fill most of our daily hours. We wake up in one mood and at night perhaps we drift off to sleep in the grip of another. Between times we may be surprised by shifts and changes of emotion or brood over a lingering mystery of emotional confusion. Persons without emotional reactions are hard to bear. We might wonder if they suffer from some disorder. But perhaps their emotions are not warm and pleasant but of the cold, off-putting kind. Whatever their nature, we can be sure that our emotional responses provide the real texture of human life. In themselves they are part and parcel of God's creation. And like other creatures they may be put to good use or they may get us into trouble. Returning to the formula given above, what needs emphasis at this point is the habit of relying too much on emotional satisfac-tions. When we habitually demand to be satisfied emotionally, we become blocked against further spiritual growth. We can become stuck right there. Without realizing the fact, we may be expect-ing God to deliver emotional satisfaction to us and we get angry when God fails to do so. We pray, in effect, a self-centered prayer, "my will be done on earth--not Thine!" While nothing is wrong with emotions in themselves, we can put too much stock in them. Let us be honest, many of us do so a good part of the time. We come to rely almost entirely on our own emotional states. If they are satisfying, "God is good!" If not, "God has rejected me!"--or we imagine things are going wrong. 676 Revie'w for Religious One of the major troubles of social life is to have others inflict their moods on us--because they tend to interpret the nature of reality in terms of current emotions. "The emotion that grips me now tells me who I am and what the world is doing to me." Even if we can avoid inflicting our emo-tional state on others, we still often experience the world in accord with our emotional state at the moment. As the poet Pope tells us, "All looks yellow to the jaundiced eye"--and the world looks rosy through rose-colored glasses. Our emotions easily become a lens that colors our world--for the time they last. This is often how we are as we begin our spiritual journey. There is nothing very surprising about it. And so a well-known stage of purification consists in getting free of emotional demands. First comes the step of noticing our emotional reactions, of naming them as they occur, and of refusing to identify our being with their con-tinuance. In order to become liberated from their insistent claim upon us, we learn to do small penances. In the past there has often been a danger of coming to despise our own emotions--an undesirable side-effect when struggling to gain freedom by willpower alone from these emotional claims. ~Without further treatment of that point, I merely note here the need to avoid puritanical efforts in this transition. We are dealing with spiritual growth, which is always initiated and brought about by divine grace. We do, of course, need to cooperate with such graces, and small penitential acts are forms of cooperation. But our highly emotive personal responses are right and true in themselves. Even if emotional self-denial is necessary for a cer-tain time, we will need to return to our emotions just as soon as we can get free of their tyranny. Then they may become, not only right and true, but beautiful and even holy. Emotional self-denial is only a temporary ploy within a larger movement of growth, not the main aim of the spiritual life. An egotistical tendency (if it is present) to invest our sense of self mainly in our emotional satisfactions needs to be purified during the First Week exercises. That is, of course, a rather sub-jective way of approaching the areas of sinfulness that call for purification, but it seems appropriate here because I am focus- When we habitually demand to be satisfied emotionally, we become blocked against further spiritual growth. September-October 1992 677 ,Wick~ ham ¯ Key Transitions,, ing on interior transitions. The Rules for Discernment them-selves lay heavy stress on the desolations to be expected in a per-son striving to move forward, and on the need to persevere in that intention despite the losses of emotional satisfaction that may be experienced. Spiritual Feeling In the more positive phases of the continuing transition, spir-itual consolations arising from moments of union with Jesus the Lord may make their presence felt as one enters the Second Week of the Exercises. It is assumed at this point that exercitants have already heard the call of Christ to follow him and have responded (with varying degrees of enthusiasm) to that summons. And dur-ing the contemplations of the public life that follow, each one must learn how to discern true from false consolations. An elementary principle to be noted here is that consolations of the Lord are not to be identified as "feeling good" and deso-lations as "feeling bad." Many today use the term "feeling" in a general sense that includes (or mainly denotes) what I have described above as emotions. That is a defensible usage, but in this essay I wish to separate the term "feelings" from the term "emo-tions" as already defined. I want to cast light on the rather dif-ferent movements we may experience at a deeper, more interior level of our being. In other words, I wish to define feeling (an enduring state) and feelings (momentary events or "touches") as personal responses that occur at our spiritual center in the core of our being, and not primarily in our social world. Humans may be said to enjoy a double-leveled awareness, one with outer and inner dimensions. In this discussion I am using emotions to refer to responses at the outer level, and feeling to refer to responses at the inner level. Quite correctly, it should be insisted that outer and inner lev-els are continually interacting together. Whena sudden event moves us wholly, it is often true that emotions and feelings are impossible to distinguish. Tears start from our eyes, our heart is fully engaged, we cry out with joy or sorrow, we even experience sensations in our body (waves of heat or cold, tingling of the spine, pressures in hands or feet, a burning forehead, and so on). Similar points may be made about calmer experiences as well. 678 Review for Religious In fact, it is normal for human beings to "sense" a two-way intercourse between outer and inner events, between what occurs in the social world and simultaneously in the interior feeling. Our reflective capacity, which is not merely mental but also passion-ate, is precisely what makes our awareness human. Our con-sciousness is multidimensional. While we know and feel, we also know we are knowing and feeling. And when we respond emo-tionally, we are aware at the same time of various intuitions under-lying our most emphatic emotions. Even when we "forget our self" in some activity or other, that welcome effect is considered unusual--an exception to the rule, and never total. Besides, an egotistical self-awareness is not the only kind of selfhood we may experience. We may be full of self-doubt, for example, or eagerness, or mistrust, or calm happiness, and so on. The Inner Self All the same, what is transpiring in this first transition is pre-cisely a development of interior selfhood. As certain modes of dominance by the outer self are overcome, we receive a new growth of inner self---a very important transition in anyone's life. Today we may take it for granted that the "self" we are talk-ing about, no matter how much trouble it may get us into, is a positive value in its own right, not to be identified with mere self-ishness or false egotism. Only fairly recently did this new assump-tion gain acceptance. For example, in The Imitation of Christ the term "self" was rarely used except in a pejorative sense, and it followed that one's main goal was to get free of it as much as possible. That view continued to be the dominant one until only a few decades ago. The shift that has taken place so recently has brought with it a new sense of the human subject, of selfhood as a valuable reality-- however much it may need to be discovered, owned, purified, and developed. A much stronger awareness of the "inner-self"--at least as a potential reality--has arisen among many members of our secu-lar culture today. Often we know it first for negative reasons: we are hurt, we feel misunderstood, we are unable to communicate our special desires or intentions, we are judged wrongly or become unsure of what we really meant. It causes a great deal of confusion, September-October 1992 679 anger, resentment, and so on. But at some point or other it may dawn on us that, despite the urgent need we may be feeling for much more growth and clarity, our inner self is a reality, valu-able in and for its own simple being. We may begin to experi-ence our own goodness as a fact. It need not, and cannot, be earned or proven. It is just "given." Through faith I may know that my personal existence is received from God who does not choose to make me without lov-ing me. My selfhood is real and my unique being is loved--even holy. That realization is such a remarkable event in anyone's life that it calls for prolonged attention and care during the earlier stages of spiritual growth. Since I assume that the above reality is widely recognized and appreciated today, I wish to focus now upon the kind of transition involved in its realization. An individual coming through that key transition begins to experience things in a personal way that may be called heartfelt. They are spiritual feelings and illuminations in the inner self. These consolations (or desolations) differ noticeably in qual-ity from emotions experienced in the outer, social world. And the transition from relying mainly on emotions to rel~ing mainly upon spiritual consolations (feeling) is a very significant "moment" in one's development. Not a False but a True Self This transition has been the main aim of novitiate programs ii~ recent centuries, although in most cases the novitiate was directed toward the positive adoption of each congregation's way of life. In other words, a single spiritual "style" or mode of oper-ation was proposed for every novice to imitate and put into prac-tice, and what needed to be sacrificed in order to obtain this goal was the ordinary tendency to demand emotional satisfactions for oneself. The self in question was taken to be wholly "selfish" and needed to be "offered up." Today a single spiritual lifestyle imposed on everyone alike has been replaced by "the charism of the founder/foundress" in a way that leaves room for the unique selfhood of each member to receive recognition and approval. As a result, the sense of self in question had to be clarified. The false self, which needs to be purified, is one that demands 680 Revievo for Religious emotional satisfactions and is upset when these are not forth-coming. But the true self, to be realized through penance and pa.tient striving against desolations, is received as a gift from God and recognized in consolations consisting of spiritual feeling and preconceptual knowing (experiences of sentir). A special way of following Christ, modeled in each congre-gation by the founder/foundress, will enable new members to undergo a radical purification of their conscious (or outer) self in the process of identifying their center of being in their heart's core. Members of vowed congregations who were trained in the older system have likely gone through an adjustment of this sort during recent decades. Each one will need to say how he or she has made the required adaptation, if indeed it has taken place, and what precisely was involved. But in general it may be said with some confidence that this first transition, which is of primary importance in spiritual growth, has been clarified as the emergence of an inner self united with the Lord in discipleship. What prevents its growth is usually the habit of expecting or relying upon emotional satisfactions, a habit which must be changed if the desired transition is to take place. Once it has been changed, and soon after the new inner self has grown accustomed to spiritual consolations, a reintegration of the'whole person with her or his emotional responses should then commence. This process will involve the formation of new social habits on the basis of the inner self so recently received from the Lord as a true actuation of one's potential being. The Second Transition An expectation of further growth should not disappear from our purview for too long after the first transition has been com-pleted. True enough, a directee who begins to enjoy true spiritual consolations does require considerable time (perhaps several years) to integrate them and create a new way of life on the basis of the inner self they bring alive. But the moment will inevitably come when remembering past graces will no longer suffice. As soon as signs of this new need begin to appear, the director (if not the directee) ought to recognize them. Such signs may point to the onset of a second, rather different transition. What might signs of this new sort be like? In general, con-solations of "the Second Week type" curiously do not seem to Septentber-October 1992 681 Wickbam ¯ Key Transitions operate "as well as" ones of an earlier stage. In different contexts, we should notice, St. Ignatius employs the same word, "consola-tion," in somewhat different senses. In the First Week, for exam-ple, which deals with persons who seek to be more and more purified from their sins, the ferm simply means experiences lead-ing to closer union with God. But in the Second Week it means experiences of persons bound in close discipleship to the Lord; because these apparent consolations may come from God or from the enemy, they need to be examined much more carefully. It is my contention here that the term is further varied in the Third and Fourth Weeks: if it gains in nuance by moving from the purgative to the illuminative way, we should not be surprised that it varies again in moving to the unitive way. It is usually rather puzzling to find that "what used to make me happy no longer does so." Naturally enough, we normally expect things to continue as they were. But the fact of the matter is that we may change so significantly (because of Our authentic spiritual growth) that what used to console us does not console us any more. Former ways, including ways of praying, that we had first discovered with some difficulty and later came to enjoy with a sense of real progress now seem to leave us cold. They no longer satisfy our hearts, but instead cause a certain malaise or uneasiness. It can be quite disconcerting. What can have gone wrong? At first we may fasten on various explanations: we are not trying hard enough; we have grown com-placent and lack humility; we should return to our former graces with renewed enthusiasm, and so on. But try as we will, the loss of taste, the lack of any real sense of meaning and .value in our usual way of life, continues to bother us. Of course, many different factors may be relevant in the case of each person. But I want to introduce the possibility of a new kind of transition as an important consideration in many cases. If indeed the divine Spirit is moving us to a new stage of growth, then we are obliged to give it some attention. Unitive Experiences Since what I will be describing his to do with the unitive way, let me begin by insisting that this traditional stage of spiritual development is not exceptional, not meant for only a very few persons, and not regularly accompanied by unusual mystical phe- 682 Review for Religious nomena. Unitive graces are an ordinary occurrence in most devout lives, just as are those of the illuminative and purgative ways. (Besides, concretely speaking, even after one has discerned unitive experiences, he or she is not usually separated for very long from renewed moments of purification and illumination. Perhaps one should stress the fact that occasional unitive graces do not mean one is "firmly established" in the unitive way--what-ever that may mean.) It is my conviction that the Third and Fourth Weeks of the Spiritual Exercises cannot be reduced to a "confirmation of Second Week graces." That may be legitimate in many cases, but the limitation ought to be spelled out rather than turned into a general rule. Let me be explicit: a limitation of Third and Fourth Week graces occurs quite legitimately when the individual person has for the first time received graces belonging to the first transition or when a notable deepening of that transition has been granted. In other words, the person's "inner self" has been realized or deep-ened in graces of union with Christ--and this is quite new for this individual. In that case (and it is a very important develop-ment) the Third and Fourth Weeks are likely to consist mainly of graces that confirm the key event that has so recently transformed the person involved. The Passion of Jesus may be shared in many different ways-- even by the same people at different times. I may cling to the cross in a sort of desperation if I am in serious danger of falling into mortal sin. Or during a crisis of decision making or of self-doubt I may dwell in the Garden of Gethsemane. Alternatively, I might find my personal illness or injuries transformed by a new way of sharing in the sufferings of Christ. Or I could accept obsta-cles thrown across my path, get free of resentments that have long bothered me, or deal more creatively with insults and humil-iations that come my way by prayerfully participating in what the Lord endured in his Passion out of love for me. This list could be much extended, but I simply wish to illus-trate here the wide variety of possible experiences we may find. At least a mention may be made of special graces of union with the Passion, such as we may read about in St. Juliana or other spiri-tual writers. Some of these may be clarified in what follows, but my main concern is to speak about Third Week (and Fourth Week) graces in a way that might enable ordinary Christians seek- September-October 1992 683 ~ickham ¯ Key Transitions ing a closer union with the Lord to recognize the possible mean-ing of unitive experiences that may also have been given to them. When the Passion of Christ "confirms" the first transition in the experience of a given directee, then that person's union with the Lord (so recently received or deepened) may be clarified and strengthened through worldly rejections and insults, even when these are taken in prayer to the limit situations of betrayal, impris-onment, violence, condemnation, and death. In other words, one's interior meaning and value as a person created and saved by the Lord and called to his service will become much more surely "known" in consolations received when contemplating the Passion. The Resurrection contemplations, in similar fashion, may confirm the previous grace more positively through experiences of a new way of life operating out of spiritual feelings received in the depths of the inner self. Those "Second Week" consolations may become clarified and strengthened through experiences of union with the risen Lord. Such graces received during the Fourth Week are to be discerned, unless I am mistaken, as confirming the Second Week graces already obtained by the directee. Limiting the Last Two Weeks In short, in these cases (only), confirmation of the Election in the Passion and Resurrection contemplations may be taken as appropriate during the Third and Fourth Weeks. This means that the central grace of the Spiritual Exercises is seen to be one of inti-mate personal union with Jesus (most fully revealed in the Election). What I have called the "first transition" may be rec-ognized as the main event for the individual person one is direct-ing-- even during the last two Weeks. So frequently is this the case today that many directors tend to consider it the only true goal of the Third and Fourth Weeks. But if that is so, then their notion of the unitive way has become dangerously foreshortened. For all practical purposes, it has been subordinated to the purgative and illuminative ways. But if the unitive way is truly a normal dimension in the growth of every devout Christian (as I believe it to be), then its omission from the Spiritual Exercises would be a limitation that raises serious questions. And to restrict unitive graces to a few exceptional persons would, in my opinion, be equally damaging. There is secular evidence to give us pause today. When 684 Review fbr Religious Maslow began to publish his findings on "peak experiences," he was under the impression that only a small number of persons had undergone this type of interior opening. But further research by himself and others produced widespread testimonies to simi-lar events. Eventually he reached the conviction that peak expe-riences of one kind or another are universal, although ignored or repressed by a hardy few. While his concept of "peak experiences" is ambiguous and may refer to quite a wide range of phenomena, his evidence cannot be restricted to what I have named the first transition. What I would like to call the second transition, then, would always assume the previous acquisition of first-transition graces. For example, if we suppose that a directee before making the Spiritual Exercises has already received profound graces of the Second Week type, what would likely occur during the first two Weeks? Usually one would expect the directee to receive confir-matory graces during those meditations and contemplations. But I would add that such prayer experiences might also be prepara-tory to more advanced graces possibly to be offered during Weeks Three and Four. If a director is not open to this possibility, then the fore-shortening of the Exercises, already mentioned, becomes all too likely. And if the more advanced graces of the second transition are actually given, such a director would not know what to make of them. The directee's experiences might easily be misunder-stood and the director could fall into false discernments. I believe that this has in fact occurred far too often. Challenges to a Good Way of Life The reality of spiritual growth reveals how frequendy believ-ers find that God disallows their apparently excellent form of commitment to the divine service. "The rug is pulled out from under their feet," we could say. Let us assume, for the sake of argument here, that the way of life of a given directee is truly unselfish and generous. It has been discerned carefully under direction, and has in fact become fruitful in its apostolic outreach. Is it possible that God might call the individual to surrender, or move away from, this entirely good way of life? Not only is it possible, it ftequendy takes place. A car accident, a heart attack, a financial loss, or social changes intervene to make September-October 1992 685 IVickbam ¯ Key Transitions our chosen course no longer viable. From many (limited) points of view, this makes no sense at all. But the point of view that mat-ters is the divine one--where we are called to believe and trust without knowing why, without making our own merely "common sense views" the final criterion in our discernment. This is what must have challenged Mary, the Mother of Jesus, on that first Holy Saturday. To her way of thinking, what could have been better than the life and teaching of Jesus? And yet its rejection in Israel was permitted by the divine mystery. Mary had to accept that baffling course of events, painful as it was in the extreme, without any "human" understanding of its value. We might say that God asked her to endure a spiritual death in her own heart corresponding exactly with the actual death of her Son. If this line of thought is pushed a little further, of course, we may perceive that the Passion and Death of Jesus was itself most acutely a spiritual death for our Lord himself. Had he not set his heart upon the conversion of Israel whom he desired to gather under his wings as a hen gathers her chicks? But they would not have it so. Instead, he was compelled to accept the rejection of his teachings, and of himself with them, at the hands of those in Israel who were in positions of wealth, prestige, and power. Only a few remained his followers. Jesus embraced this destiny out of love for all his people (including the very ones who were bent on his destruction). Not only did he accept the loss of what he had hoped to gain, but he did so with generosity of spirit. And so the Father raised him to a new role in the course of our history, a role that brought him into direct relation with every nation on earth. That spiritual death, which he so fully accepted, led to a new form of spiritual life for every people--even for ourselves. This, of course, is the pattern set for all of us by our Lord in his paschal mystery. But it should be obvious that we do not reach the fuller modes of participation all at once. Only gradually over many years do the devout followers of Jesus find the path to a more complete union with the Lord in the mystery of divine pur-pose. This does not mean that what we presently do will certainly be taken away during our course of active life (that remains a mystery of the future). It means only that, if we do move forward in union with the Lord, our basic attitude toward what we do and who we are will likely be tested in a more radical way. Even so, 686 Re~ie~ for Religious those who know us externally may not even notice the changes occurring deep within us. But somehow, through threats of illness, accidents, or altered situations that touch each one of us deeply, experiences like those that came upon our Lady and the other disciples of our Lord-- experiences, that is, of a spiritual death corresponding to the actual death embraced by Jesus out of love--will need to be encountered. And if we are graced by the divine love, we may pass through that "radicalization of the paschal mystery" so as to enter into a new kind of life in God--or at least into momentary tastes of it. This is what I mean by unitive graces. The Root of the Matter The term "radicalization" refers to the removal of more deeply rooted barriers to union with the Lord. Negative events similar to the ones mentioned above may occur in our lives, of course, without becoming the occasion of unitive graces. What is assumed here is that advanced graces of purification from sin have already been received, and that graces of intimate discipleship have also been conferred which have enabled well-discerned com-mitments to service of the Lord's kingdom in this world. It is only some years after a first transition has been made that certain neg-ative events may trigger an experience of lost selfhood or lost capacity for going on--even though outwardly one still goes throughthe motions that resemble a normal life. But why is it necessary to "die" to our good interior self in order to "live" in the heights of the spirit? Whatever answers we attempt will necessarily dwell within the mystery of divine union. Does our chosen way of life in its underpinnings somehow tend to place a barrier between ourselves and God? If so, why should that be? Does our most intimate sense of true selfhood always to some degree (because it remains unfinished) hinder us in our encoun-ters with God? Does our entry into utter transcendence always call for a further surrender--and yet never actually deny the validity of our individual and communal being? (These are far from being new questions--they belong to a well-worn tradition.) Sometimes our experiences of union seem to emphasize a oneness that obliterates awareness of distinct selfhood or to bring about a newness of love-identity in the Other that makes us eas- September-October 1992 687 ily forget our usual human longing for recognition as individuals. True. But these passing tastes and their remembered glories refer to unitive graces which at first can stun us with their breakthrough "difference." By this I mean that the experiential qualities tend to capture too much attention at first--they are new to us, very fulfilling, and so ~ometimes a bit extravagant. Nonetheless, the substantial reality of a grace, once given, is never taken away by the Lord even though the experiential aspects are temporary. We remember the experiences, but we are still inwardly changed and even "put together" differently by the substantial character of those gifts. The Way of the Cross In the specific case of unitive graces, however, a prior expe-rience of spiritual death points to another factor. There is no way to Easter, as we know, that does not pass through Calvary. In the terms already used above, this means that radical experiences of union with the risen Lord in the "heights of the spirit" are not possible for us until we have undergone a spiritual death "in the depths of the soul." P~erhaps this factor can be clarified by saying that we are not ready for unitive graces (of the Fourth Week type of consolation) until we have experienced the loss of interior consolations previ-ously given us (Second Week spiritual feelings and illuminations). In terms of selfhood, we might say that we must die (not to any false self, but) to the good "inner self" given to us in the first transition. Only the loss of that very g~od gift can prepare us to receive a "higher self," spiritually communicated to us by the risen Christ in this second transition. In consequence, the two transitions I have been describing are related in the Spiritual Exercises--and beyond them. The "spiritual death" that essentially prepares for the second transition is the experiential loss precisely of the grace already received in the first transition. There can be no second transition, then, if the first has not previously occurred. We should note that the "second kind of humility" is cer-tainly meant for use in the Election. The "third kind of humility," on the other hand, is intended to enable directees--should they actually receive that grace--to move forward into the second tran-sition after their full acceptance of the first. 688 Review for Religious Concretely, of course, this conceptual clarity is muddied by many variations in practice: both transitions may be combined or crossmated, along with backward and forward movements, fre-quent delays and regressions, sudden spurts and more sudden withdrawals--endless "visions and revisions," as Eliot puts it. The actual circumstances do not often present ready-made examples for our mental laboratory. MI the same, our awareness of the "crucial" contrast between the second transition and the first may prove helpful. If the approach taken here is even approximately correct, then we may be assisted in discerning the special qualities of second-transition experiences, especially in their earlier phases (of the Third Week sort). And this may enable us to avoid false strictures on our own or others' responses to these movements of grace. Qualities of the New Life The first transition, then, moves an individual from relying mainly on emotional satisfactions to receiving spiritual consola-tions in the inner self. The sedond transition may be said to move one from a well-accepted habit of interior union with the Lord and a way of life based upon it to a new life received directly from the risen Christ and enabling experiences of a higher self. It remains to suggest various qualities of the higher life that is enabled by unitive graces. First of all, although one's ordinary life, of course, continues, along with it (and not only behind it but also "in among" it) there is known to be a divine presence-- ever so delicate and respectful of one's freedom. That factor may grow more powerful at certain times, but often it remains gentle, although unmistakable. Another feature is a "higher" movement of the Spirit--rather unlike the heartwarming and compelling graces of the first tran-sition (which are usually "deep" and "interior" in quality). It is the awareness of divine mystery operating everywhere, bringing about God's will despite all evidence to the contrary; it is a dis-position to wait for God to reveal the divine will, to expect this and not to be surprised when it comes. It means not to speak until words are given, not to act until one "knows" how the Lord desires to act in the community. These few features may be taken as examples of the higher life (often seen in the lives of the saints). In general, that nothing Septentber-October 1992 689 should prevent God from loving others through my life becomes the central desire of my existence, the main reason for continu-ing to live. It need not, on the other hand, mean that the interior expe-riences of the inner self do not return and are not customary in one who has received unitive graces. It is just that one can no longer identify oneself with them. They are available at times and should be exercised. But they may also be taken away, and one is ready now to let them go. All this is possible because the risen Lord has made his divine presence felt by uplifting one to the level of his own activities in the church, in each person, and in every part of the world. Burning Bush Afire burns outside my bedroom window, October-red euonymus its name. As I look down The blood-red leaves leap up Vivid as living rivulets of flame. Transfixed, ! stand, New-wakened in the early autumn dawn. Then, barefoot, kneel, Obedient, Although no voice is heard. What angel calls me - silent? "Here I am!" I almost cry, Drawn by this shock of unconsuming fire To listen, stricken as Moses, For some name, some quickening word. Therese Lynch csJ 690 Revie'w fbr Religious DAVID E O'CONNOR Seeking a Sense of Direction in a Time of Transition As we try to read the "signs of the times" and prepare for an unknown future, we should not forget the lessons of the past. We should take note of the cultural, theologi-cal, ecclesial, ideological, and generational influences that have moved our personal and collective lives as religious in certain directions. And we should be alert to the factual changes, adjustments, adaptations, and developments which seem to indicate some of the shapes and forms that religious life may be taking as we approach the third mil-lennium. religious life Recalling the Lessons of History Recent historical scholarship has opened our eyes to the uneven history of religious life--a history filled with crises and chaos, with high points and low? Interestingly, there have been relatively short periods of time when the church and religious life appeared to enjoy some institu-tional tranquillity and stability. More than once the whole concept of religious life seemed doomed to extinction by events out of control. Religious in North America, especially during the first part of the twentieth century preceding the Second Vatican David O'Connor ST teaches at the Washington Theological Union. He is the author of Witness and Service: Questions about Religious Life Today (Paulist Press, 1990). His address is 9001 New Hampshire Avenue; Silver Spring, Maryland 20903. Septetttber-October 1992 691 O'Connor ¯ Seeking a Sense of Direction Council, found themselves in one of those rare stable periods in the church. It was a time when the highest leadership in the Roman Catholic Church, beginning in the late nineteenth century and ending only in the middle of the twentieth, had chosen a defensive and protective position, effectively withdrawing from a changing and modern world which, in fact, was often hostile to it. The Catholic Church centralized itself at the Vatican to a degree unknown until then. Within this same period of time, the Catholic Church in the United States developed and flourished.2 American Catholics were, for the most part, an immigrant population that experi-enced the hostility of the WASP (white, Anglo-Saxon, Protestant) culture. While retaining a fierce loyalty to Rome, they tried to prove they were loyal Americans as well. For them the Roman Catholic Church appeared to be the model of stability and the rock of certitude. Although the worldwide Catholic Church of this period seemed intransigent, it was, in fact, still recovering from the buf-feting of social and historical changes that had rocked it at the end of the eighteenth century and into the nineteenth. Following the French Revolution, religious life and many other institutions of the church seemed to be in their death throes. Yet, by the beginning of the twentieth century, it was clear that the church and religious life had recovered their vitality and were experi-encing unprecedented growth. In the 150 years preceding Vatican II, religious life had more than recovered from previous losses. Statistically, its number of members peaked in 1965.3 The post-Vatican II period, through which we are presently living, has been one of immense social and cultural changes. The council fathers thrust the church into the modern world, and fall-out from this movement of the Spirit in the church has occa-sioned a difficult time of transition for all, especially religious in the Western world. The rnove from a church-imposed inflexibil-ity and rigidity of the pre-Vatican II period to a church-initiated reform of religious life in the post-Vatican II period brought about an upheaval that was radical and spectacular in its magni-tude and complexity.4 No one could have imagined the depth and breadth of these changes. Indeed, we are still too close to events to make a true assessment. We will have to leave that to a future generation. Presently, it is still difficult to read the signs of the times because they are so ambiguous. Yet one of the clear lessons 692 Review for Religious of history is that drastic changes in religious life in the past did precede new forms of dedication and new vitality which were appropriate for the new needs of the church in a new time and in new situations. God does speak to us through history. One of the more important lessons of history is that, while religious life appears to be perennial, individual religious insti-tutes are not. Dedication, consecra-tion, and commitment to Jesus and his people are evident in the lives of groups and individuals throughout the history of the church, but the forms these have taken and their specific expression in individual groups, communities, monasteries, and institutes does change. Institutes are like people--they are born, they grow, they live their lives, and even-tually they die.s V~hile monastic groups can sur-vive with a minimum of members, and even decrease to a handful of people in one or two monasteries, apostolic institutes cannot. Apostolic groups frequently respond to spe-cific needs at certain times and in particular places in the life of the church. Once they have achieved their purposes, they tend to fade away or find new life through adaptation and change. In any case, an apostolic group requires many members to fulfill its corpo-rate role and purpose. The institutional life of these religious, all things considered, is much shorter and more tenuous than that of monastic groups. However, some forms of religious life have had the ability to be revitalized over and over again through reform, adaptation, and new expressions. One need only consider the Rule of St. Benedict, which has been adjusted to multiple forms of monastic and quasimonastic life. While individual monasteries or groups of them fade away, new ones are established in other places and times. Each institute has its own life to live. Not a few have seemed to be dying out or even were suppressed, as was the Drastic changes in religious life in the past did precede new forms of dedication and new vitality which were appropriate for the new needs of the church in a new time and in new situations. September-October 1992 693 O'Connor ¯ Seeking a Sense of Direction Society of Jesus in 1773, only to be given new life and experi-ence spectacular growth. Nevertheless, breakdown and death are probably inevitable for every religious institute. Some may have a very short life and others may live for an unusually long time, just as individual per-sons do. Calamities and misfortunes overtake certain groups. It might be combinations of political and economic or social and religious events which occasion their breakdown and demise. Often these events have nothing to do with the interior vitality of the group. For example, .when pestilence decimated the Western world in the fourteenth century, the mendicant orders were espe-cially ravaged when many members generously ministered to the sick and dying; some orders lost half their membership.6 Time also takes its toll. The life and death of individual com-munities frequently have nothing to do with the spiritual vitality of the members. Often, in fact,'it appears that in periods of decline the membership display many virtues and signs of dedication. Their corporate life has simply come to an end. As death crowns their collective life, other dedicated people often rise up to meet the new challenges confronting the church. Contemporary Influences on Western Religious Life Cultural Factors. The church does not exist in a cultural vacuum, but in the world as it is. We are, at present, living through a period of exceptionally rapid and revolutionary cultural change in an increasingly technological society. Our Western culture has had an immense influence on the attitudes of our people toward freedom, authority, obedience, sexuality, intimacy, and affectiv-ity. Periods of rapid social change promote personal and institu-tional instability and make it extremely difficult for people, especially the young and inexperienced, to make any permanent and unconditional commitment as expected in marriage, the priesthood, or religious life. The high incidence of divorce and remarriage and the many departures from the clergy and reli-gious life coupled with a corresponding drop in vocations dur-ing the last two and a half decades manifest this unfortunate social fact. The postconciliar years also chanced to coincide with "a kind of cultural revolution which led to a break with tradition, a crisis of authority, and indifference toward questions of faith, great 69¢ Review for Religious uncertainty about moral values, and a crisis in the realm of ethics.''7 The whole world seemed caught up in a series of extraor-dinary social and cultural changes. These enormous cultural shifts and their concomitant crisis of meaning forced even the religious who did not leave their communities during these years to change their lives in such a radical way that their communities are now different from the ones they originally entered decades ago.8 The American cultural values of personalism and personal fulfillment, freedom and self-determination, pluralism, democratic self-crit-icism, and egalitarianism and an emphasis on productivity and success have frequently clashed with an older and more rigid reli-gious life.9 In the period before Vatican II, religious life became part of the Catholic ethos and was carried along by its own cogency. It was largely insulated from the broader currents of American cul-ture. This situation, however, could not continue--certainly not for many members who left it after the reforms called for by the council began to take effect,j° Moreover, Catholics are no longer social outsiders in the U.S. culture; they have joined the nation's insiders.II Because of its outsider mentality, the Catholic Church had built its own vast school system, its own hospitals, newspapers, and fraternal and professional societies parallel with everything that was found among the WASP insiders. Large numbers of Catholic men and women joined religious life. It was a natural way for many to obtain an education and take their place in the Catholic society of that time. Now that Catholics are social insid-ers, they are no longer attracted to serve only in church institu-tions, for many options are available to them in the larger society and in the church.12 Also, the present-day phenomenon of the prolongation of adolescence into the early twenties and the consequent delayed adulthood of many young people in our culture is a sociological fact.13 Large numbers of young adults remain dependent upon others and do not assume full responsibility for themselves until, perhaps, they are forced by circumstances to do so later in life. This has had a direct effect upon the vocational and formational problems facing religious communities. The perceptions of young people concerning religious life today are quite different from those of their elders.14 The younger the person, the less he or she perceives religious life as dynamic and effective, and the less attractive it is to him or her. Moreover, Septentber-October 1992 695 O'Connor ¯ Seeking a Sense of Direction because the positive perception women religious have of them-selves is not shared in the same degree by those outside religious life, it does not bode well for the replacement of present mem-bership. 15 Most significantly, because of the changed perceptions regarding the value of a celibate lifestyle on the part of so many people in our culture, the continuance of a celibate religious life, as we know it, is highly problematic with regard to the availabil-ity of potential candidates. There are very few people open to considering such a lifestyle, in the opinion of professional observers.16 Therefore, to state that religious life is countercultural in our present society is to assert an all-too-obvious fact. Theological and Ecclesial Factors. Pope John Paul II expressed his own grave concern about the drop in religious vocations when he sent a letter to the bishops of the United States on 3 April 1983. A pontifical commission was established to investigate the matter--dubbed the Quinn Commission because Archbishop John R. Quinn, of San Francisco, was appointed the pontifical dele-gate. 17 This commission made its lengthy report to the pontiff in October 1986 and a shorter one to the U.S. bishops in November 1986.18 The report did affirm many positive developments sucla as the rediscovery of the charisms of many institutes, the deepening of authentic spirituality, a new appreciation of apostolic religious life, a new awareness of the uniqueness of each individual reli-gious, the promotion of a greater participation in the decision-making processes of the institute, a new appreciation of the universality of the church's mission, a growing awareness of the feminine, the development of new constitutions, and new signs of hope through older and more mature vocations.19 It did note, however, that the universal call to holiness of all members of the church made at Vatican II in the Dogmatic Constitution on the Church (§§ 39-42) affected religious and those who were contemplating entering religious life. This affir-mation of a common vocation to live a full Christian life was inserted in the conciliar document before its treatment of reli-gious life. It effectively undercut the popular misconception that the call to holiness lay primarily in religious life and in the priest-hood, or that one needed to enter them to pursue holiness seri-ously. A clear call to holiness was being made to (and heard by) 696 Review for Religious those in the married and the single life and not just to those liv-ing the celibacy of the religious life and the priesthood. Second, religious women and men took to their hearts the council documents' emphasis on social justice, which expanded upon the social teachings of the Gospel and the popes. This emphasis was reinforced by the personal experience of religious when they encountered social evil and injustice in their efforts to live and preach the Gospel. This experience, however, seemed to some to place apostolic religious in a theological bind between two apparently contrary church expectations: that they live "apart from the world" while they live and minister with an "option for the poor" in a modern world filled with social injustice. Third, the council'g reaffirmation of the need for the lay peo-ple to serve and to minister--to evangelize--in response to their baptismal call had an effect on religious. They became aware of the apostolic call made to all the faithful. The identity of religious can become clouded in periods of theological and ecclesial change. Their sense of direction and their morale are affected. Some religious now see themselves more as lay people. They react negatively to any restriction they per-ceive

Focuses on the regular and peacekeeping budgets since 1945; suggestions for solution and structural reform of the UN as an institution. Contends that UN members do not fully pay their dues and that the US accounts for much of the shortfall.

Some ideas are developed about the meaning of a newly emerging European society for the social sciences, organized in four sections: (1) trends toward one European society; (2) the global context of the European process & some of its economic, political, social, & intellectual implications; (3) German unification as a blueprint for European integration; & (4) the role & potential contribution of the social sciences in helping to shape European integration for a more peaceful, just, & sustainable society. 4 Photographs. Modified AA

According to the author, the world now seems more peaceful than one could ever have expected only a few years ago due to collapse of communism in Eastern Europe and the Soviet Union, and the end of the Cold War. The policy of nuclear deterrence, adopted by both East and West after World War II, was seen by both sides as an effective way of preventing war. He (the author) examines the role that nuclear deterrance played during the Cold War era. (DÜI-Sen)

Collection of six brief reports and articles on the attitudes of the Australian government on violation of human rights and separatist movements in Indonesia, policies of Commonwealth government and the state governments in respect of the aboriginal people, new Defence White Paper to be published by the Australian government, the Australian contingent in the United Nations Mission for the referendum in Western Sahara and Australian defence force personnel in the United Nations peacekeeping force in Cambodia. (DÜI-Sen)

Nine brief articles on reductions in the US and former Soviet navies and their presence in the Western Pacific, North Korea's nuclear policy and its signing of the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty, political situation in Burma, UN troops in Cambodia and their peacekeeping operations, the issue of a Quebec army, political relationship between New Zealand and Australia, China's claim of sovereignty on Senkaku Islands, also claimed by Japan, and Spratley and Paracel Islands. Tokyo's dispute with Moscow on the issue of Kurile Island and the Indonesian goverment's harder line regarding East Timor. (DÜI-Sen)

On 28 February 1992, four months after 19 countries and the 4 warring Cambodian factions met in Paris and adopted the agreement on a comprehensive political settlement of the Cambodia conflict, the United Nations Security Council approved the biggest, most expensive and most ambitious peacekeeping operation in U.N. history. The author outlines and highlights the UN's role in Cambodian peace efforts, different dimensions of the Cambodian problem and the benefits of the U.N. peace plan for this country. (DÜI-Sen)

Since the collapse of communism in Eastern Europe and the disintegration of the USSR, the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) regime in mainland China has felt seriously threatened. It is deeply afraid that the USA will step up its efforts to effect "peaceful evolution" in mainland China. For this reason, Peking is eager for stability at home and is working harder than ever to achieve friendly ties with foreign countries. The author examines Peking's foreign relations in the new international situation. (DÜI-Sen)

The process that led to Germany's unification, on 3rd October 1990, is often said to apply to China and Korea as it was both peaceful and approved by the two Germanies' citizens. However, many observers argue that the German model cannot apply to the other two divided nations because of their totally different circumstances. The author explores the factors contributing to German unification and discusses their feasibility in the context of Chinese and Korean unification. (DÜI-Sen)

Sino-Soviet rapprochement and a reevaluation of India's China policy by Rajiv Gandhi in 1987 have produced the most cordial Sino-Indian relations in over thirty years. Both Beijing and New Delhi desire still further improvements in bilateral relations but have been stymied by a paucity of parallel interests and by continuing fundamental conflicts over the territorial issue and China's role in South Asia. Zhou Enlai's 1960 proposal that China accept Indian claims in the eastern Himalayas while India accept China's claims in the region southeast of the Karakoram Pass no longer stands. Beijing now calls for Indian concessions in the east in exchange for Chinese concessions in the west. China also views military relations between itself and South Asian countries as legitimate relations well within the purview of the Five Principles of Peaceful Coexistence. To New Delhi, they constitute unacceptable threats to Indian security. Because of these continuing fundamental tensions and rivalries, China's entente cordiale with Pakistan remains important to Beijing.