Suchergebnisse

Issue 52.4 of the Review for Religious, July/August 1993. ; for r elig ious Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JULY-AUGUST 1993 ¯VOLUME 52 ¯ 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 mailing 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. ©1993 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 J~an Read Mary Ann Foppe Joann Wolski Conn PhD Mary Margaret Johanning SSND Iris Ann Ledden SSND Edmundo Rodriguez SJ Se~in Sammon FMS Suzanne Zuercher OSB Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JULY-AUGUST 1993 ¯ VOLUME 52 ¯ NUMBER4 contents 486 feature The Most Adventurous of Nuns: Ursulines and the Future Mary.Jo Weaver gives contemporary meaning to the legacy of Angela Merici and the Ursulines. prayer 503 Hermitage, a Metaphor of Life Eileen P. O'Hea CSJ shares the struggle of a desert-day experience. 507 Christian Zen-cum-Ignatian Meditation Robert McCown SJ explains how Christian Zen, or centering prayer, as an ancillary to the Spiritual Exercises offers spiritual repose. 519 God's Human Face Revealed: A Retreat in Wales Mary Corona FMDM shares her experience of God's working in a thirty-day retreat. 532 541 548 spiritual life What Trouble Is Tad Dunne ponders how coping with trouble allows us to find energies that produce growth. Prayer, Memories, and God Theresa Mancuso suggests a fascinating relationship between recalling joyful and painful memories and praying to God. Adding Up 75 Years Vera Gallagher RGS adds up the balance sheet of God's love in her own life history. 482 Review for Religious 553 566 574 apostolate Prayer and Work, Mostly in South Africa Timothy Stanton CR believes that intercession is the main respon-sibility of the church in the painful process of bringing a new South Africa to birth. Religious Life in West Africa 1966-1990 Martin O'Reilly CFC offers an outline of the development of reli-gious life from foreign-born to local-born in West Africa. The Sanctification of Their Neighbor Thaddeus J. Kazanecki CO examines some characteristics of the Italian confraternal life within which St. Philip Neri founded the Congregation of the Oratory. 584 596 6O2 610 religious life Culture and Contemplative Community Marie Beha OSC reflects on how living the Franciscan charism in the United States can be ddngerous both for U.S. Poor Clares and U.S. culture. Canonical Room for Charisms William F. Hogan CSC emphasizes the uniqueness to be fostered by each particular religious institute for the good of the church's mission. Journal of a Novice Director Melannie Svoboda SND explores the mind and heart of a novice director through excerpts that could be found in a journal. A Family Business: Management in Religious Congregations Dennis Newton SVD spells out some practical directives for deal-ing with complications arising from interaction between religious-congregation members and nonmembers in the workplace. departments 484 Prisms 616 Canonical Counsel: The Synod on Consecrated Life 622 Book Reviews 37-uly-Aug~st 1993 483 prisms A seminarian recently told me, in a certain exasperated way, of his frustration about political label-ing in the church. Informally representing others of sim-ilar age, he pointed out that he has known no other church than the post-Vatican II church. An English-language liturgy, a catechetical training distinguished more by ques-tions than by answers, parish organizations still in devel-oping stages, a school faculty composed mostly of lay teachers, along with a few religious women and men not appearing all that different in dress or in lifestyle from their lay counterparts--these are the only memories of church that he has. He has no more nostalgia for the prac-tices of the church of earlier years than he has for the cel-ebrated golden age of radio before the advent of television. His complaint is that any expressed desires for con-nectives to a pre-Vatican II church immediately raise the likelihood of himself and other people his age being called "neoconservatives." These thirtysomething people and younger want rather to explore more fully their heritages of Catholic .faith and practice. They have no battles to fight over the rigidities and meaninglessness that were part of some Catholic devotions and regulations of the recent, past. They are gra,teful for the freedom and respon-sibility which "older" church members have not always felt comfortable with. They appreciate the maturing fits-and- starts of an American hierarchy in providing leader-ship in their letters on peace and justice and on economics and even in the failed .attempt to address the role of women in society and the church. They see as well-mean-ing but fearful the attempts at control and centralization made by what they might want to label as a "conserva- 484 Review for Religious tive" Vatican bureaucracy. But they are nevertheless looking, sometimes toward the past, for something more in their church than they have at present. They would want, in Jesus' imagery, to be like the "head of a household who can bring from his store-room both the new and the old" (Mt 13:52). If I have rather faithfully understood and presented a major concern of significant numbers of younger members in the church, I believe that their complaint is legitimate. The necessity for an in-depth contact with and study of our rich heritages has never been more apparent. We are all-too-aware of the old truism that unless we know our past we are condemned to keep repeating it. We in the church are also well aware that the danger of being prisoners of the past is all-too-real, with the embarrassing irrel-evance of various "churchy" issues in the face of modern world problems and technology. So for us to know our heritages is to have the strength of consistency with our past but also the stim-ulus to move into a creative future where our faith is a light for appropriate decision and action. Our feature article, "The Most Adventurous of Nuns: Ursulines and the Future" by Mary Jo Weaver, is one attempt to make contact with a heritage in this kind of significant way. I hope that this article will serve as a model for people to study and write engagingly about other heritages, with implications for the present and future opportunities of those very heritages. The women and men who lived our heritages before they were heritages make vivid the values necessary for today's Christian living and the courage it takes to live these values in the face of difficulties, including at times the opposition of good people. This journal has a privileged role to play in bringing people into greater contact with the good-ness within so many spiritual families that live together in our church. In coming to know more fully the relevance of our spiri-tual heritages, we dan expect that our liturgical and prayer practices will be more life-giving, our ministries inspired by gospel beati-tudes will be more clearly focused, and our lives supported in Christian community will be more vigorous. Vatican II and the subsequent years have given the church the occasion for straightening out the gospel storeroom. Now we, the church members, need to enrich our faith lives by com-ing to know and use its treasures, both new and old. David L. Fleming SJ yuly-A1lgust 1993 485 feature MARY JO WEAVER The Most Adventurous of Nuns: Ursulines and the Future I found the title of my talk in the first sentence of Agnes Repplier's biography of M~re Marie: "Of course," she says, "the Ursulines were the most adventurous of nuns." As I skimmed the book, I found phrases like "the most adven-turous of patronesses," the "robust intelligence and fear-less imagination" of the founder, and the "constitutional fearlessness and valorous spirit" of the first missionary to North America. The women most often mentioned in Ursuline history--St. Ursula, Angela Merici, and Mhre Marie--were all formidable figures, and as I read about them I was wafted back into a romantic past when pio-neering women were intrepid and when everything worked out all right in the end. Although the women associated with Ursuline history were not feminists in any modern sense of the word, I wondered what it would mean to attempt a feminist reading of their lives. I was drawn most powerfully into Angela's life, but not before the other two made me stop and take notice. The medieval legend of Ursula as a graceful, beauti-ful, wise, cultured scholar whose learning amazed the doc- Mary Jo Weaver is professor of religious studies and women's studies at Indiana University in Bloomington. Author of Springs of Water in a Dry Land: Catholic I, Vomen and Spiritual Survival (Beacon Press, 1993) and other works, she spent ten years explor-ing feminist issues in the American Catholic Church and has recently begun a long-term research project on traditionalist Catholics in the United States. Her address is 1030 S. Mitchell; Bloomington, Indiana 47401. 486 Review for Religiot~s tors of the church explains why she inspired so many paintings and poems. The bare outlines of her mythical life--martyred along with eleven .thousand virgins with whom she was wandering around barbarian Europe--are fanciful, to say the least, but I do not think it troublesome that the historical facts about her are rather dim. True or false, her legends shaped part of the Catholic tradition and tell us something about the roles women were able to play in the medieval imagination. That she was a virgin, the patron of innocent girls, and a charismatic figure and leader even though she was single--neither married nor in a convent--was obviously attractive to Angela. When I moved to the stories surrounding M~re Marie, leader of the first Ursuline mission in North America, I found genuine historical material used by her biographer in a skilled portrait. Repplier's biography can be summarized in this sentence: "She had escaped every groove in which she had been imprisoned by circumstances." It is a marvelous summary of the life of an ordi-nary woman responding to extraordinary demands, and that seems to be an Ursuline theme, at least in the North American context, where Ursulines were on the scene early and seemed to thrive in the most desperate of situations. Male historians, who typically pay little attention to women, unite in praise for the teaching charism of the Ursulines and their civilizing power on the frontier. There is more, of course, but the bottom line from the his-torians is a witness to dedicated purpose: "The development most distinctively American was the role in educating the young assumed so largely by a myriad of women's communities, begin-ning with the Ursulines in New Orleans in 1727." These same historians do not make much of the fact that the founder of the Ursulines was an independent and rather remarkable woman sur-rounded by strong, inventive women. Those attributes attracted me, however, and it became clear to me that the best way to think about Ursulines was to get to know their founder. Besides, there seemed to be excellent sources of information: well-researched critical biographies, spiritual reflections, historical notes, and modern symposium notes say something about the kind of energy Angela Merici has inspired in her followers. About Angela Merici, there seems to be solid historical ground for an interpretation, but as with the stories of other founders and other times, the pious imagination has sometimes filtered the facts. For example, Angela is remembered ih connection with the July-Aug'ust 1993 487 Weaver ¯ The Most Adventurous of Nuns education of girls and is sometimes pictured as energetically open-ing schools; but she neither spent her time founding academies, nor was she drawn primarily to an apostolate of education. Her pioneering spirit was directed towards the moral support of young girls and the regeneration of society as it could be accomplished through a formation program within family settings. Still, because she established a company of independent women at a time when things were astonishingly bad for women, Angela is an example of the "theoretical feminism" that some critics believe has always existed even though it was seldom successful. Theoretical femi-nism means the dedication of women to the abolition of hie(ar-chics, especially those that put women under the direction of men. That description appears to fit Angela's context, and the fact that she tried her experiment during the Renaissance makes her case even stronger. One of the salient points made by feminist historians for the last twenty-five years has to do with periodization. The ways we mark historical periods have been set by men and often mark the realities of women's lives. The late Joan Kelly ~nade this argu-ment with specific reference to Renaissance Italy, Angela's time and place. According to Kelly,.there were no gains for women during the Renaissance. In fact, the age was marked by a restric-tion of the scope of women's powers. Female sexuality, women's economic and political roles, their cultural power in shaping the outlook of their societies, and the ideology about women all underwent profound changes, mostly to the diminishment of women. Yet Angela acted as if the subordination of women was not an issue for her. The "new subordination of women to the inter-ests of husbands and male-dominated groups" that went hand in hand with Renaissance "progress" did not seem to touch her per-sonally though it may account for the rather quick enclosure of the women Angela hoped could live a more autonomous existence. Like fascinating women everywhere, Angela regularly over-turns predictable assmnptions about her. The woman who gath-ered the company later valorized as "the most adventurous of nuns" seems to have been the most reluctant of founders. The founder who has gone into history as one of the world's great pioneers of education seems not to have been that at all, and the visionary who heard a voice from heaven in her teens finally got around to acting on it when she was an old woman. Angela's life fits no .pattern that I can find unless it might be 488 Review for Religious that of Dorothy Day, who summarized her own life's work by say-ing that she never planned to do very much at all. "Opportunities presented themselves and we responded," she used to say, refus-ing to be relegated to the musty shelves of sainthood, out of ordi-nary reach. Dorothy Day is not a perfect parallel figure for understanding Angela, but can help us to perceive the more or less prosaic ways in which ordinary people can be propelled into extraordinary activity. Almost everything we know about Angela Merici happened in Brescia, a small but very volatile city. In 1401 it had been dubbed "the little Rome" because it had 70 churches and 50 monasteries for a population of 16,000, yet sixty years later the apocalyptic reformer Savanarola preached sermons there evoking visions of hellfire and damnation to inspire a change of heart in a morally bankrupt population. Perhaps Brescia was simply unlucky in terms of episcopal leadership. Paulo Zane, absentee bishop there for fifty years (1481-1531), seemed to be in a contest with corrupt popes, cardinals, and priests to see who could lead the most lav-ish and egocentric life. Perhaps Brescia was simply unlucky in terms of its geographical location; it was used, stomped on, and overrun by various armies during the complex territorial wars that dominated the region in the late 15th and early 16th cen-turies. When the French sacked the city in 1512, four years before Angela arrived, the torture and killing of local citizens was so ferocious that all of Europe was shocked by it. If we think of mod-ern- day Somalia, or parts of Latin America or the Middle East, we would not be far off in our analogy. The context for Angela's life, therefore, was collapse and tran-sition. The medieval models for politics and religion were not working, but nothing better was yet in place--a time, in other words, not entirely unlike our own. It was also a time of rampant corruption and moral gridlock, in which those "in charge" appeared uninterested in the daily spiritual li;¢es of ordinary peo-ple. Outside of the 10th century, it is hard to imagine a worse set of popes, one after another, than those who occupied the Holy See then; nearly half of the men who~e stories make up Chamberlain's The Bad Popes ruled during Angela's lifetime. Religious life, although abundantly present, was scandalous rather than edifying, creating a kind of spiritual vacuum for a scream of protest to fill. And, of course, someone did produce such a scream. A young Augustinian monk teaching Scripture at Wittenberg protested .~uly-Aug'ust 1993 4.89 Weaver ¯ The Most Adventurous of Nuns Charlotte Lichtblau vehemently, but that is a different story. It is not clear how sharply the Lutheran remonstrances touched Angela herself. Many of the reformers of the 16th century--Teresa of Avila, for example-- were so taken up with their own missions that they appear to belong to a climate of religious reform that has very little to do with the great Protestant revolt that began a year after Angela arrived in her new home. Still, ten years later, in 1527, a major anti-Catholic demonstration in Brescia signified, among other things, that people there were in a state of spiritual uproar. 490 Review for Religious To understand Angela's context, therefore, we have to imag-ine a situation that felt generally hopeless and beyond control. The northern Italian borders were not secure, and towns like Brescia were a kind of permanent war zone, not always the scene of bloodshed, but sufficiently precarious to raise the disease rate, encourage prostitution, destabilize families, and generally scuttle normal life. Religious leaders were nowhere to be seen unless one happened to be in Rome attending the theater. The streets of Brescia in 1532 probably resembled Times Square in 1993. They were full of con men sensing opportunities, young women selling themselves for their next meal, old men with diseases or old war wounds and no place to go, and ragged children darting from one bad situation to the next. Acting courageously in this little scene were some dedicated young men operating hospitals for "incur-ables" and a steadfast group of young women whose desire to help young girls led them to imagine themselves working together in a new way. What did these young idealists have in common besides a lively conscience and a desire for spirituality in action? They were all friends of or drawn to Angela Merici, an efficient, maternal woman who, by all accounts, had a magnetic personal-ity shaped by personal sanctity. She had even, so it was said, once had some kind of "vision." As I noted earlier, whatever the facts of her life, Angela Merici is not typical in any way. The outline of her visionary experience-- adolescent orphan girl sees something and claims to be instructed by it--is a standard story; but what Angela did with it is not. Her modesty in claiming very little for herself because of her experi-ence reminds me of Dame Julian of Norwich, who after a series of remarkable visions went on with a modest, reclusive life, recounting them to a scribe only much later. As an adolescent, Angela apparently had a profound religious experience--a dream or a vision--which she believed gave shape and direction to her life; but she did not immediately run to a bishop to disclose its contents, nor did she speculate about the concrete terms into which it might eventually be cast. She simply went about her life as a third-order Franciscan, te.aching catechism in her own village and willing to go wherever she was needed--to Brescia, as it turns out, when she was in her forties. Unless we count a pious life as extraordinary, she did not do anything out of the ordinary there. Perhaps the very routineness of her life calmed people: At the same time, the little things she .~uly-August 1993 491 Weaver ¯ The Most Adventurous of Nuns Like any normal prophet, she was reluctant to believe that God was directly calling her. did made an impressibn on those around her. She lived a selfless life in the company of rich people and brought the attractive wis-dom of common sense to a besieged.situation. She apparently felt secure enough to pursue her lifestyle choice of virginity in the home of a wealthy young merchant, living in his house for more than a dozen years. She was an ascetic who was surrounded by friends, many of them men. She was a good organizer and pitched in to do what needed to be done--nursing, counseling, pro-tecting children, consoling the bereaved--but also apparently felt free enough to go galli-vanting off to Jerusalem, to Rome, and to Varolla, a kind of Holy Land theme park in the Alps. How it became clear to her that it was time to act upon her early vision and gather "a company of consecrated virgins" around her is not Clear to me, especially since I see her vari-ous trips as flights from that call. Every time someone called a meeting, she disappeared! In 1522, when she was in her early fifties, Angela went on a pilgrimage to Mantua, to the tomb of Blessed Osanna Andreasi, a third-order Dominican. Why? Did she simply want to honor this holy woman, or was she begin-ning to suspect that she herself was gifted beyond what she had up to now felt to be ordinary abilities? Did she hope by honoring Osanna, a new and popular cult figure, that she could elude her own fate, like Moses telling God that, in comparison with the articulate Aaron, he was simply not the man for the job? It seems reasonable to assume that she experienced some kind of inner turmoil and was seeking refuge from it. In that way--like any normal prophet, with the exception of Isaiah--she was reluctant to believe that God was directly calling bet. Whether at Mantua she was seeking refuge or confirmation, however, she did not quit running away. Her next pilgrimage, in 1524 to Jerusalem, is what we might expect from such a woman in those times, and having an on-site episode of hysterical illness was not untypical. People in the highly charged atmosphere of a major place of pilgrimage often have unex-pected or frightening physical experiences, but let us examine this moment more closely. She did not, like Margery Kempe, faint or have visions of herself assisting at the birth of Jesus; she did not, like 492 Review for Religious Felix Fabri, feel as if her whole life had been turned upside down. She went blind and so could not see some of the holy places. When I read that story, I wonder what she did not want to see. On her way back from Jerusalem, she stopped awhile in Venice, where city officials begged her to stay and administer a hospital for incurables there, an honor and a challenge to which she responded by fleeing quickly and returning to Brescia. Running away from this opportunity would have made sense if she returned to Brescia to take on similar responsibilities there, but she did not. She was scarcely unpacked when she booked pas-sage on another pilgrimage, this time to Rome and the celebration of the jubilee year (1525). I read this activity as a voyage of internal discovery. Those attuned to their inner voices know that "you can run, but you can-not hide," something An\gela was trying to do in ever more press- xng ways. Whatever her reasons for going to Rome, once there she managed to get an audience with Pope Clement VII. It is hard to imagine this event without the kind of bribery required by most Renaissance popes, so if she managed to see the pope without such machinations, I daresay he already knew about her and saw how she might be useful to him. In any case, if she wanted the solace of a papal blessing, she received another scare instead: he begged her to stay in Rome and administer a hospital there. Here the story gets even more dramatic because, in the face of a papal request, Angela fled lest she be compelled by obedience. Other popes might have pursued her, but Clement was not a man of swift decision. His nickname--"I will and I won't"--was given to him because be was a notorious temporizer, agonizingly slow to make any decision. His disadvantage was her victory. She got herself back to Brescia and away from Rome. Perhaps she imagined she was now safe and sound. ¯ What can one make of all this flight? I see a woman who probably knew she had led a useful life, who was self-assured and willing to help out where she was needed, but not eager to fit into a role she could not yet imagine for herself. The idea that she might be more than a reasonably pious and useful woman and the fact that young people involved in arduous and creative cor-poral works of mercy gathered around her as if around a mother hen may have strained her .self-understanding. Maybe she was just tired--she was in her late fifties--maybe she was just stub-born. I find her self-possessed, unwilling to act until she herself j~uly-August 1993 493 Weaver ¯ The Most Adventurous of Nuns was clear about what she might do and how she might act to con-trol her own future. In "running away" she found the time and space to begin to come to terms with it. It is fascinating to see this middle-aged woman struggle with the logical implications of her own life. She had been in Brescia for nearly fifteen years, living a prayerful life and doing good works. People thought her so wise and caring that they called her madre (a tide reserved for holy women and nuns), and from morn-ing to night she was called on by people seeking her advice or drawn to her sensible simplicity, A group of courageous young people who had their own ideas about how to live the gospel in a forlorn world were drawn to her spiritual power. And an increas-ingly clear apostolate, dedicated to the care and protection of young women, had been staring beseechingly at her since Elizabeth Prato, a friend young enough and devoted enough to be her daughter, started working with lost girls in 1522. Vv'hy, then, the reluctance? And why do I find it comforting? Without intending to be cryptic, I think it is middle age, Angela's and my own. Had she been in her twenties, perhaps she would have dived right into the creative community she founded, as many of today's middle-aged sisters, in their youth, were drawn into the irresistible energy of religious life with its sacrifices and promises. But, like many of us today, she was in her fifties, not so quick to act, distracted by alternatives and the cautions that come with age. Maybe she just wanted to live out her days in the mod-est way she had been doing. After all, it is reasonable at this age to be tending the gardens of one's own soul and unreasonable to be launching a major life project. Maybe the call which had come with such clarity many years earlier now seemed distant or unreal, impractical in the present situation. VVhen we are young, the idea that God wants us for something specific seems only natural. All the scary choices--marriage, motherhood, convent life, profes-sional training--are made with the blessed ignorance of youth. But when we are older, the same idea can make us wonder if we are imagining things; we see all the reasons not to believe what we are hearing. In such cases the mysterious ways that God is famous for often manifest themselves in some dramatic way. For Angela, not unlike many of the saints, illness was a factor. Fleeing again in 1529 to Cremona in order to get away from political intrigue and an active war zone, she became gravely ill. And here, I think, she 494 Review for Religio~ts encountered an interesting temptation that may have looked like the answer to her problems. Illness and death beckoned as an option, the last flight, the final escape. She apparently thought that she might really die there and--whether with drama or res-ignation I cannot say--took to her deathbed. Yet, when one of her young supporters composed her epi-taph and read it to her, she bounced back, not as ready to go to heaven as she imagined. Again, I think, she shows the wisdom of age, for it is only when we are very young that we find a "longing for death" something to nurture in our-selves. Angela, hearing her epitaph, dis-covered new energy in herself. She still may not have been ready to lead a new movement, but neither was she ready to be led into eternity to the strains of In Paradisum. Whatever happened to her during those days in Cremona, she was resolved, at the end of this exile, to put down her traveling staff and follow the spirit she had been running from. She made one more short trip to Varolla that winter, to renew her memories of the Holy Land-- a symbol for her sense of purpose--then returned to Brescia and moved into a small room in Elizabeth Prato's house near the church of St. Afra. Now nearly sixty, Angela tucked into this new stage of her life with determination. She lived even more austerely, spent more time in prayer, and began to instruct her spiritual daughters. It is probably only a geographical coincidence that Prato's house was near the church of St. Afra, a 4th-century prostitute who achieved sainthood through martyrdom; but it is interesting that the early work of Angela's group was partly directed at.opening possibili-ties for "penitent women," a euphemism .for prostitutes. By 1532 Angela had gathered a small group around her and developed a rather extraordinary and yet quite simple idea: all the women would engage in an exterior apostolate and lead vir-ginal and virtuous lives, but would take no vows. In its broad out-lines this plan is reminiscent of the Beguines, religious associations of women begun in the 12th century in Belgium and the All the scary choices-- marriage, motherhood, convent life, professional training-- are made with the blessed ignorance of youth. July-Augt~t 1993 495 Weaver ¯ The Most Adventurous of Nuns Netherlands. Their success in the 14th century did not impress itself upon the clerical mind so much as the fact that they took no vows and were not subject to the rules of any order. Did Angela know about them? Was she attracted by their relative autonomy? Did she think their exp+riment was worth another try? Her idea was so simple and so revolutionary that it boggled the minds of the authorities: women would commit themselves to an apostolate--the care, protection, and education of girls--and they would promise lifelong fidelity to consecrated virginity. We may consider how her plan might have threatened men. Pious men would see women able to lead useful virtuous lives without their advice, and "men of the world," accustomed to pursuing an occasional dalliance, might now have to sneak into the house late at night, only to be met with the soulful glances of an at-home daughter vowed to virginity. Angela's notion of governance was also disturbing. However much she said about obedience to authorities, the Holy Spirit was her real teacher, and so she stipulated for her daughters. Her desire to trust the activity of the Holy Spirit in the individual heart, however, did not appeal to male authorities. On the con-trary, it frightened them profoundly. Charles Borromeo--still in diapers when Angela died--found the idea of an unmediated Holy Spirit speaking directly to the heart and conscience of individual women wildly dangerous. The changes made by this young arch-bishop of Milan in Angela's Rule are not surprising to anyone with even a minimalist feminist consciousness. Borromeo was a man of his times; Angela was a woman ahead of hers. I find it fascinating that, unlike some other reformers and founders such as Teresa of Avila, Angela did not invoke the com-mands of Christ to carry out her purpose or to solidify her sense of authority. She was sure that what she was doing was made pos-sible by and would be sustained by God, but she exhibited no need to couch her ideas in the language of mystical certainty. Perhaps because she was single and surrounded by eager disci-ples she had no need to talk about divine directives. Perhaps she did not have any. Her ideas about community seem to follow directly from her own experience, an extension of her practical holiness. The memory of her vision--by now no more than a vague request to a bereaved girl--and a st.eady relationship with God were enough for her. The practicality and ordinariness of her plans made her an 496 Review for Religious inspired leader with amazing insight into the needs of women. The frescoes she commissioned for her oratory--the meeting space and prayer room for her young group--constitute a kind of "womanspace" in which her young followers could imagine new possibilities for themselves. Angela's frescoes gave her fol-lowers examples of spiritual heroism. Looking around in that room, young women saw Angela's models. Ursula, Elizabeth, Paula, Eustochium, and, by some accounts, Catherine of Alexandria make exquisite sense and testify to the power of Angela's self-concept. She did not choose prepubescent martyrs or women noted for fasting and silence; she selected strong, bright, self-confident women. It is worth lingering on this point. Although the Catholic tra-dition has a long list of impressive women saints, women whose sanctity rests on suffering, self-effacement, and masochistic penances often predominate. That Angela did not choose such models for her girls speaks eloquently, not only to Angela's time, but also to our own. The women in her murals are all.mature, educated, learned, single, undaunted by male threats or violence, and autonomous in their fashion. Like Angela herself, these women exhibit an inner certainty and independence, making no great claims for themselves, but creating atmospheres of respect by their clearheaded, fearless lives. Even if we look at the under-side of their stories--Elizabeth's sick relationship with her spiri-tual director, for example--the last line of the story is one of strength rather than brokenness. All these women are virgins-- some belatedly, some, like Ursula, spectacularly--and all com-bine devotion to learning with lives of Christlike action. Within two years of the setting up of the oratory, Angela and twenty-eight of the young women who regularly visited that col-orful space signed a book promising to serve faithfully as members of the company of St. Ursula. Within five years that number more than quintupled, and Angela died, leaving behind a growing group, three small documents, and a legacy of self-reliance. How does one survive in a world where, in Yeats's descrip-tion, "the centre cannot hold"? Angela's writings suggest that she endured by reliance on the Holy Spirit, self-confidence, adapt-ability, and kindness. She assumed that her daughters would sur-vive and that God would somehow take care of them, but I see no evidence that she had much stake in gathering a group that would last forever. She does not appear to have been much of a worrier, 3%dy-~lugust 1993 497 Weaver ¯ The Most Adventurous of Nuns perhaps because she thought of herself as a mother and had such a fearless concept of motherhood. Angela's model of mothering was dominated neither by the medieval bias that considered women to be morally and intellec-tually inferior nor by Renaissance romanticizing. In her reckon-ing, a mother is loving, but also demanding; tough as well as flexible; able to embody both divine mercy and divine judgment. As CarolynWalker Bynum has shown, these qualities are partic-ularly important in contrast to concepts of divine motherhood that we find in the writings of medieval monks. For them, moth-ers are eternally nurturing, never critical, always available, in other words, stereotypical in the worst ways. Angela's concept of motherhood is the best indicator of her independent spirit. Like the great female mystics of Helfta-- Gertrude the Great, Mechtild--she was able to look into the mir-ror and see herself and her daughters as powerful even as they committed themselves to lives of service. She managed for much of her life to be what many of us hope eventually to become, self-accepting, aware of life's bleak realities without being defeated by them, and so quietly self-confident that it seems not to have occurred to her that she would not be able to do what needed to be done. In managing to live without marrying or entering a convent, and seeing no reason why other women could not do the same, she may have failed to recognize the extraordinary qualities of her own personality, but in that, too, I see modest ambitions con-cealing a powerful sense of purpose. If I can do this, she seems to say, so can you. Little Wonder that young women were attracted to her. She looks out from the past, not with directives, but with encouragement. "Take heart," she says, "I have confidence in you." The word that dominates her writings is kindness, the notion that people can teach more effectively, pray more openly, and act in the world more compellingly insofar as they remember to be tender, encouraging, loving. The ability of hers to enable her fol-lowers by encouraging them to trust themselves is no small thing to emulate in these times of confusion and anxiety about the future of religious life. Because I find Angela's life a statement about women's oppor-tunities, I think she is something of a feminist hero. Among other things, feminism is a countercultural movement related to the ways women are taught to act and to imagine themselves. As 498 Review for Religiozts someone deeply committed to women in an age that was deter-mined to keep women in lives of subservience, Angela was coun-tercultural. Her relationships, attitudes, and actions did not fit the norm for Renaissance women, nor did they fit into the accepted molds for "pious" laywomen. She did not take up residence with a man in order to have an overseer, for example, nor did she count it a danger to faith to be living outside the control of a husband or a bishop. When she says, in Counsel number 7, to follow the old Law but lead a new Life, she makes a countercultural statement. In the ways she used her own expe-rience to make her life and the lives of other women better, she did then what feminists urge women to do now. Like women in most times, she knew that she could not operate as men do, by domi-nating a situation, and so learned to lead by other means. She was a madre, a mother and leader whose "gov-ernance" was more by example than by decree. At the same time, she was not afraid of provocative images of power, urging her fol-lowers to be "like Judith," the Israelite woman who saved her peo-ple by beheading the enemy leader, Holofernes. In her Counsels Angela suggests that her followers serve oth-ers; practice gentleness; not be anxious if they do their best; build community anywhere; teach by example; find refuge in Jesus; nur-ture those entrusted to them; honor authority in the community; and live in harmony. People can, of course, read those bits of guidance in profoundly conservative ways to suggest that Ursuline women simply comply with rightful authority and define them-selves in terms of old-fashioned virtues of maternal charity. Compassion, prayer, solidarity, and a creative imagination, they might say, have been the tools women have used for centuries to shape life toward their purposes, find they work well in traditional models. But I think it is also possible to read them as directions from a self-possessed, powerful woman to those she expected to follow her lead. The bottom line is Angela herself: she trusted her friends and counted on them to be able to make use of their own experience as she had done. As I see her legacy, she was more Because I find Angela's life a statement about women's opportunities, I think she is something of a feminist hero. Weaver ¯ The Most Adventurous of Nuns interested in encouraging women to trust themselves than she was in providing them with a set of rules and regulations. However one interprets her life, the things Angela did can still be done. Women today--laywomen and religious women--have moved beyond passivity and found new ways to make innovations and to ameliorate social ills, as she did. She knew how to read and respond to the sigris of the times in creative ways and assumed that her followers would, too. She was able to read the gospel in prag-matic terms, as a demand to respond to the human demands of everyday life, and left that as part of her legacy. She looked for a new form of religiou~ life within her own experience and com-bined it with the tried-and-true formulae of work and prayer and fasting to come up with something so ahead of its time that it scared the men in charge of things. That can still be done, too. Whatever happens to "religious life" over the next few years-- and there is no end of controversy about it--I believe that at least three things need to be combined with your own reading of Angela's life. These general recommendations apply to all of us. First, we need to know the Catholic tradition: to be literate about revelation, creation, redemption, Christology, grace, and the rest, not in order to hold on in an obdurate or triumphal way, but to have a solid appreciation of what Catholicism is and is not. With Angela as a model, be assured that I am not talking about the truncated tradition handed on by men, the one that excluded women. I am talking about the full, richly embodied, woman-rich tradition of Roman Catholicism. Those who teach young people know that we now stand in a stream of Catholic tradition that very few people really know or understand. Those whose lives are focused on education might be both scandalized and galva-nized by that fact. Second, we need to have a firm grasp of the sacramentality of Catholicism since it both strengthens the spirit and informs the imagination. If we understand that the things of the world are sacred, that God is often present in the most unlikely of places, then we might see new possibilities in the universe. We need, in other words, as Angela did, to cultivate our religious sensibili-ties: to paint frescoes, create new holy cards, celebrate life. Finally, I think we should read Scripture and its commentaries and make that a part of our prayer. Angela may have done good works and taught her "daughters". all afternoon, but only, I think, because she spent the mornings in St. Afra's in front of the altar, sometimes 500 Review for Religious deeply connected, sometimes wildly distracted, but always, rou-tinely, there. I was attracted to Angela Merici originally because she was a powerful woman and, in my reading, a reluctant founder. As I read and thought more about her, I was drawn to her sense of adventure, her willingness' to risk what may have looked like an idiotic experiment at a time when she may have been mostly tempted to retire. So how can Ursulines combine their founding charism--tied to Angela Merici--with tradition, sacramentality, and Scripture? The hard part of that question for me has to do with the Ursuline charism. What is it? Education? Virginity? Working with young women? The possible answers sometimes seem as multivalent as the life of the founder and perhaps, like all life forms, reflect some facet of divinity back to God in their par-ticularities. Ursulines together embody the varieties of Ursuline life in a way that highlights the many aspects of Angela that are worth emulating. The bottom line for me is confident innovation. I do not know if that constitutes a "charism," but it seems to me that it could. Seeing what needs to be done and doing it with an embracing charity, while refusing to capitulate to fears about the future, is a rather astounding legacy, as useful today as it was then. Bibliographical Notes Many of the ideas for a feminist reading come from the work I have done over the last decade on women in the Catholic Church. My New Catholic Women: A Contemporary Challenge to Traditional Religious Authority (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1985) is the best state-ment of that interest (see especially chapters 1 and 3). Joan Kelly's Women, History and Theory (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1984) is still the best place to start when considering the problems raised by feminist historiography. Because Kelly's work is often set within the context of Renaissance history, her essays were particu-larly useful in interpreting the context for Angela. Also, Carolyn Walker Bynum's books, especially Jesus as Mother: Studies in the Spirituality of the High Middle Ages (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1982) are outstanding resources for thinking about the ways late medieval women actually thought and acted in the face of various religious and social changes. To learn about Ursulines, I began with Agnes Repplier's Mbre Marie of the Ursulines: A Study in Adventure (New York: Grosset and Dunlap, 1932), which gave me some amusing and provocative insights into Angela and Ursula along with the f~scinating story of M~re Marie herself. I am most indebted, however, to Teresa. Led6chowska's marvelous two- .l~uly-Augus* 1993 501 Weaver ¯ The Most Adventurous of Nuns volume critical biography, Angela Merici and the Company of St. Ursula: According to the Historical Documents (translated from the French by Teresa Nylan and published in Rome: Ancora, 1969). I used this amaz-ing resource to reconstruct the events of Angela's life. The interpre-tation of Angela as "fleeing" from the voice of God and as a "reluctant" founder are my own. I was also instructed by various works of Ursuline historian Irene Mahoney, whose Portraits of Angela (privately printed, 1985) and St. Angela Merici: Foundress of the Ursulines (privately printed, 1985) are excellent books, full of detail and insight. Martha Bucer's Also in Your Midst: Reflections on the Spirituality of St. Angela Merici (Green Bay, Wisconsin: Alt Publishing Co., 1990) was also helpful. Friends provided me with various notes from Ursuline conferences, especially with a very large set of materials from an international conference in Rome in 1991. I read them with great appreciation and have bor-rowed from them here. Other books cited or alluded to in this paper include E.R. Chamberlain, The Bad Popes (New York: New American Library, 1969); Louise Collins, Memoirs of a Medieval Woman: The Life and Times of Margery Kempe (New York: Thomas Crowell, 1964); Dorothy Day, Loaves and Fishes (New York: Curtis Books, 1963); James Hennesey, American Catholicism: A Histo~bv of the Catholic Community in the United States (New York: Oxford University Press, 1981); H.EM. Prescott, Friar Felix at Large: A 15th-Century Pilgrimage to the Holy Land (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1950); William Butler Yeats, "The Second Coming," in The Collected Poems of W.B~ Yeats (New York: Macmillan, 1959); and the Penguin Dictionary of the Saints (London: Penguin Books, 1965). Progeny Imagination gives birth to a new offspring with its own world of wonder. From a procreator's seed comes a poem or a painting, a sonata Or a cathedral. each pulsing with th~ heartbeat of Progenitor-God, Giver of beauty to beauty's ministers anointed with the rite of co-creation. Anna Marie Mack SSJ 502 Review for Religious EILEEN P. O'HEA Hermitage, a Metaphor of Life I am in a hermitage. It is, again, not what I expected. The brochure made it seem inviting, a way to satisfy the desire of my heart. I wanted a place to be--to just be, be an empty vessel in God's presence. I wanted to symbolize my response to God at this point in my life and to make sure I am open, attentive to any desire or whisper of the Divine. This hermitage looks out on woods that are covered with ten inches of pure white snow. As one walks, there is no sound but the crunch of rubber boots on a would-be path and the rusde of some frozen leaves that still hang on to bare branches like icicles. To be empty before the Beloved is my desire. And so I sit cross-legged on my saffron pillow before a large wooden cross, flanked by two small icons, and a vigil light. At last, I think, desire meets fulfillment in this quiet, undistracted place. But I am distracted; I am cold. I push the thermostat knob on the small gas heater behind me to its highest set-ring. The heater begins to ci'ackle and bang continuously and make little explosive noises every six minutes or so. It robs me of silence. As darkness absorbs the light of day, I get colder and colder. I have already layered myself in all the clothes I brought with me, and I have squeezed my Eileen P. O'Hea CSJ is a psychotherapist and spiritual director. Her address is 2311 Woodbridge Street; Suite 210; St. Paul, Minnesota 55113. prayer 1993 503 O'Hea ¯ Hermitage, a Metaphor of Life I want God's truth to be straightforward-- no glitches. ice-cold feet with their two pair of socks into my new "Thinsulate" mittens. As my feet flop around on the cold wood floor, I remind myself of Emmett Kelly, the circus clown. It is not quite funny, however. I force myself to persevere for one half hour of quiet prayer, but the clanging radiator, my clanging mind, and my freez-ing body do not lead me to a place of rest. I decide it is time for the bread and cheese, the orange, and the cup of tea that are to be my supper. I watch the night as I eat. Each piece of food, each sip of tea, carries its own taste when one is so concentrated. The orange is succulent and sweet, the cheese substantial and rich, the bread mealy and nourishing, the tea satisfying. I am grateful for each. Fortified, I read the Scripture that lies open as if ready for me. I read Psalm 139 out loud and slowly, wondering as I do so if this is the place God will choose to cast some direct light and move my spirit to new understanding. I want to be awake. If I am supposed to be getting a message, if that is why I am here, I do not want to miss it. Toward the end of the psalm my spirit is thwarted by the words: "Do I not hate those who hate you, O Lord?" I cannot say these words; I check my own revised version of the text. It is the same. I close the book, wanting to feel glad that God knit me in my mother's womb, but put off by the dualistic image. This glitch prevents me from totally giving myself to this experience. I want God's truth to be straightforward--no glitches. After wrestling around a litde, I decide to again attempt some contemplative sitting. I drape the blanket around my head, shoul-ders, and feet. I set the timer for thirty minutes and wonder if I should. Perhaps this will be the time when I will just want to linger in God's presence unrestricted. So often when I experi-ence this desire some duty calls me away. This is partly why I am here in this hermitage--so I can linger in the sweet and loving presence of God or be carried beyond my own self-consciousness to a very deep and still place. I do not set the timer. I do not rest. I am very cold. I stay in this prayer position, waiting for the time to be over. I want to be comfortable. I am not. After twenty minutes I give up. I think of going to bed. I am tired and everything has taken too much 504 Review for Religious energy. The outhouse is the least of inconveniences, I think, as I stare blankly toward a small wooden washstand. Eight plastic gal-lon containers of water, icy cold, flank it. They are for washing, cleaning, and drinking. I do not like them. I decide it is too early to go to bed. It is only 6:45. I sit in the rocker, my glasses and I peeking out through the draped blan-kets, and begin to read about "unity." The cynical part of me wonders if Ruusbroec (or Ruysbroeck) could have written or known these things if he were as cold as I am. Another level of me intuits the abiding truth he is trying to articulate. I want to sip his words like fine wine and, like the effect of wine, feel them in all the cells of my body. But the resistance of my body and psyche to the frigid Minnesota weather that is penetrating this north-woods hermitage will not forsake its stance. Although I have only one page left to end the chapter, I do not continue. My heart is moved again by Ruusbroec's words when he writes about Christ's prayer for unity (Jn 17:21-23) and says it is the most loving prayer which Christ ever prayed for our salva-tion. I am touched that Christ was praying, that Christ too was filled with desire. Stay with this, I think; do not read further. I close the book. I go to bed. I am warmer. My mind goes back to Ruusbroec's words. I wonder: Is this the truth I am meant to penetrate? It has not quite caught hold of me deeply enough, I ruminate, but perhaps during the night my enlightenment will come. My mind casts about as my body begins to settle into the comfort of warmth. Perhaps Sharon, the woman running this retreat house, is a mystic who can read my soul and tell me things that God wants me to know. I fall asleep. I dream of Sharon. Morning comes. I hesitate to get up, to begin the ordeal of being cold again. I pray, eat breakfast (I do not have to dress because I am already wearing all my clothes), and go for a walk. The atmo-sphere is frigid; the sky is gray" and overcast. Ithink of leaving early. I do not need bodily hardship, I muse; things have been phys-ically hard enough this past year. I need solace and nurturing. However, I counter this thought by reminding myself that I am old enough in hermitage experiences to know one must let them be what they are, not impose oneself or one's desires on them. Let God be God, I remind myself, and you be an open space. As I reenter the hermitage, I realize I dreamt of Sharon, but can only remember her saying it is about change. I wonder if this 3~uly-A~t 1993 505 O'Hea ¯ Hermitage, a Metaphor of Life My time here has taught me how hard it is to contemplate when one is reduced to survival. is significant and a message from God or if it is a matter of my own projections and happenstance. Rather than get caught in this distraction, I reassert the pact I have secretly made with Divine Love and say: "You know my great love for you, you know I desire only you and your will; then, if you want me to move in a certain direction or to know something about you or me, you must let me know it in a way that is not obscure and leaves me free of doubt. I am open to you, but you must remove the obstacles that prevent me from knowing or seeing your will clearly. I am totally dependent on you for this and feel it is not too much to ask of one who is in a relationship of mutual love. In a word, do your stuff and I'll do mine." Inside I sit in the rocker that I have moved as close to the gas heater as possible. I pick up my pen and yellow pad and begin to write: My time here has taught me how hard it is to con-template when one is reduced to survival. Survival sets one's consciousness at the level of basic and immediate, human needs and so occupies it with food, clothing, and shelter that it gives no attention to deeper lev-els of reality. Consequently, these deeper levels of consciousness-- places where intimacy with Divine Being is realized and expressed--are, practically speaking, obliterated. The heinousness of human sin, its death-dealing power, is many-leveled. Starving peoples in Africa and war-torn countries come to mind. I put my pen down and pray: Kyrie eleison, Christe eleison, Kyrie eleison. It is afternoon.I am still cold. In a few hours my time here will be over. I do not want to leave. As I begin to gather my things I think: This hermitage time was neither "lights on" or "lights off," as Ruth Burrows describes moments of the spiritual journey. I console myself with the thought that I came to be an empty ves-sel before God. Before leaving I sit one last time on my saffron pillow to pray. As I do so, I see outside my window a brown oak leaf surrender to a current of air, then glide gently down to the waiting snow. It is sitting there now, very still, ready in due season to become one with the earth. I sit too, quietly waiting, attentive, attuned to Love. ~06 Review for Religious ROBERT MCCOWN Christian Zen-cum-Ignatian Meditation Or What You Always Wanted to Know About Being a Mystic But Were Afraid to Ask pmeople of the ancient world strove in many ways to com-unicate with whoever they believed to be out there, with whoeveg made the world and somehow controlled their lives and destinies. They offered in sacrifice choice things: grain or wine poured out, sheep or oxen slaughtered then immolated with fire. The smoke, they thought, would rise before the gods with a pleas-ing odor. Th.ey played flutes, used prayer wheels, painted their bodies, stamped their feet, and babbled. They hoped to get the gods' attention, to bring down favors from them. Human nature has not changed with the New Dispensation, nor have the ways men and women try to pray, except these are now purified and made gentle by revelation. Christ invited us to intimacy with his Father, and we respond by lifting our hearts to him: in the Eucharist (above ~11, the true and ultimate sacrifice), in vocal prayer (such as the Rosary), and in private prayer. We address God with words often chosen from the Psalms or given us by Christ himself or by his saints. These same words, as we use them, enrich our hearts and minds with wisdom. Robert McCown SJ has traveled widely in Japan, Thailand, India, and China. He has for the past two years been teaching literature in the University of Hangzhou, on China's eastern coast. His current address is: The Shrine of the Holy Cross; EO. Box 1497; Daphne, Alabama 36526. aTuly-dugust 1993 507 McCown ¯ Christian Zen-cum-Ignatian Meditation Zen has been used for decades by Christian contemplatives who came under the influence of ascetics of the East. But there are problems with using words in prayer--even God's words. Over time we tend to multiply them and to load onto them our own intellectual and emotional baggage, allowing our selfishness to co-opt their meaning. So in some prayers we might even want to dispense with words, to use body language only, which can sometimes be for us clearer, deeper, more pow-erful than spoken words. This, I think, is the prayer Christ meant when he said, "When you pray, go into your room and shut the door and pray to your Father who is in secret." In such private and largely nonvocal prayer we offer God ourselves in our silent presence, and God responds to us, creatively, in our lives. This kind of prayer goes under a variety of descriptive names: meditation, contem-plation, and mental prayer. There is a long history of it in the church, going back to her earliest years, but it flourished especially in Europe in the fourteenth through the six-teenth centuries with a succession of great spiritual directors. St. Ignatius Loyola taught his followers in his Spiritual Exercises to meditate upon structured concepts and upon chiseled images--both anchored in powerful words--to explore the destructiveness of their sins, to accept forgiveness for them, and then, centering their lives in Christ, to redirect them to God in service of the church. But he reserved a choice place at the end of these Exercises for his largely wordless, though still rich in imagery, Contemplation for Obtaining Divine Love. Others led their fol-lowers to shun in their meditations activities of both the intelli-gence and the imagination and, instead, to go beneath these, down to the marrow of the soul, to encounter the Father in that secret "room" they felt Jesus was speaking of. Zen as practiced by Christians is, in many ways, like this lat-ter form of prayer. It is not new, for it has been used for decades by Christian contemplatives who came under the influence of ascetics of the East. Although in recent years Zen has experienced in the West a growth in popularity, many devout people, unfor-tunately, have misconceptions of it, bringing mistrust. 508 Review for Religious Zen masters themselves often give little help in understand-ing their elusive discipline. When one puts questions to them about it, they often smile and remain silent. I believe this is because they see Zen not as a doctrine but as an activity--and thus an experience--so simple and immediate that, when one attempts to conceptualize it, he only obscures it, as when one tries to define the experience of love or of life. But I feel once people see what Zen is not--certainly not a rival to Christian spirituality--they may wish to try to do Zen themselves and thus to experience the extraordinary benefits claimed to derive from it. Let us consider first--lacking a better term--traditional Zen. Rather than enter the question of the historical origins of it, let it suffice to say it has been practiced for more than 1400 years. Concerning the question of its place of origin--whether India, Tibet, China, or Japan--let us concede simply that it developed in the East, probably in a pantheistic culture. But this should not influence Zen's practical value to us as a mode of meditation any more than the lack of faith of a philosopher should keep us from benefiting from his thinking. After all, a key foundation of scholas-tic philosophy and theology is a series of clear concepts St. Thomas found in the writings of the pagan Aristotle that first came to Europe through the works of Islamic thinkers. Of grea~er importance for our purpose are the reasons Zen developed into the form it ultimately took. These we hope we can intuit as we consider the practice of Zen itself; from these, perhaps, we can gain an insight into why Zen has been found by Christian con-templatives of former times and today to be useful in their prayer life. To do Zen one follows a series of seven conventions. So that our efforts remain not an exercise in looking only but translate into a creative experience, let the gentle reader observe successively these conven-tions as we set them forth: 1. Having chosen carefully the place for our meditation--as free as possible from distrac-tions, harsh lights, sounds, and drafts--we assume the Zen position, as shown in the illus-tration on this page. In this position we join our hands and bow from the waist in the tra-ditional oriental gesture of courtesy which here means, "Now I begin my meditation." A July-Aug~wt 1993 509 McCown ¯ Christian Zen-cum-Ignatian Meditation similar bow at the end will mean, "Now I end my meditation." If we must stand to attend to something--best disconnect the tele-phone beforehand--or we have an itch or a cramp we simply can-not ignore, we bow as we break off meditating, then again as we resume it. This puts parentheses around each session of our med-itation, separating it from interruptions coming from us and from our world around us. 2. We try to keep our backs as erect as comfortably possible: the base of the spine is the key. We do not worry if at first it tires quickly. After a couple of weeks of daily meditation, it will surprise us by its new toughness, even during longer sessions of Zen. 3. Our legs should be crossed as well as possible, but com-fortably, making allowances for bad knees and general decrepi-tude. We strive to keep faithful to the time we agree with ourselves to meditate daily. Twenty-minute sessions are good to begin with. As we go longer, circulato .ry pain in our legs can force us to take a break. For this, we bow, stand, join hands before us, pace the room for two minutes; then, taking again the Zen position, we bow, and resume meditating. 4. Our hands and wrists should rest comfortably on the insides of our thighs--left four fingers on top of right four fingers, the fingers underneath press up dynamically against those above, while the tips of the thumbs touch together ever so lighdy and del-icately. Here we aim to combine a relaxed and stable dynamism of our fingers with an alert delicacy in the touch of our thumbs. 5. Our head should be erect, tilted slightly forwar.d comfort-ably, and with chin in. Our tongue should rest relaxed in the base of our mouth, and we avoid all nervous movement of tongue and jaw. Lips should be relaxed and slighdy parted to permit exhaling through the mouth. 6. Our eyes should remain half closed and out of focus. If we close our eyes, we will go to sleep;, if we focus them on anything, that thing will become a distraction. 7. Our breathing should be not from the chest but from the diaphragm. We loosen our belts, allowing our lower abdomen full freedom to expand and contract. We inhale, knowing the air we take in through our nostrils will heal and give peace, and the air we exhale through our mouth will carry out those things that rob us of peace. This breathing is indeed the key to both tradi-tional and Christian Zen because, once we are in observance of these conventions, the conscious listening to the sound of our 510 Review for Religious breathing becomes the central continuous deliberate activity dur-ing the entire time we are meditating. W.e strive to make this breathing more and more regular, more deeply from the diaphragm. We seek to become increasingly absorbed in repose-fully listening to and centering ourselves in its sound. As we descend deeper into this centering, the thoughts, desires, and images that our mind naturally gener-ates will diminish to nil. If some persist, we do not fight against them, but, by continuously renewing this reposeful centering, we ignore them. If they con-tinue aggressively, it is probably because we are not observing certain of the conventions above. Perhaps our hands have slipped away from the position of dynamism and delicacy, or we are permitting nervous activity in our mouth. But most often the reason will be found in our breathing being not from the diaphragm, or our not centering ourselves in its sound. Striving meticulously to maintain these conventions, in spite of the turmoil our daily lives may be subjected to at the time, and striving, as well, to pass the whole period with a mini-mum of surrenders to needs to scratch or to shift our body's mem-bers, make for steady progress over the months, over the years. Indeed this striving for perfection in every detail--in posture and in centering in our breathing--becomes the daily bread and but-ter of Zen meditation. Even the pain we will feel in our legs after thirty or so min-utes of continuous meditation can be turned to our advantage. As this pain grows, we seek to enter it, to center within it, and, as it were, to find in it a certain rest. Thus our concentration upon our breathing will become more complete and more central, and foreign thoughts will be more completely excluded. The above conventions are, curiously, the essentials of Zen as it has developed over the past millefinium. Being in essence non-verbal, nonconceptual, and nonimaginative, Zen does not lend itself to being systematized. To those practicing Zen, it is the experience that matters, whereas the conflicting ways one tries to describe or analyze this experience are to them secondary at best. But for us Westerners, who look for reasons to be persuaded, let us ask what we are doing when we do Zen, and why. Simply stated, following these conventions meticulously permits us a Zen does not lend itself to being systematized. j~ldy-August 1993 511 McCown ¯ Christian Zen-cum-Ignatian Meditation maximum control of both our physical and mental activities, and from this we are able to suspend them partially. Thus, during meditation, the Zen position encompasses and brings under con-trol in appropriate ways every member and organ of our body-- even our heart--which, we will find, will beat slower as we descend deeper into the centering. While consciously listening to the sound of our breathing itself, we can make it more regular, more from the diaphragm, and it will further become the key to controlling and emptying the activities of our mind: memory, intelligence, will, and imagination, including especially emotions. Thus, in doing Zen we strive to make each session of medi-tation both as dynamic and as empty as possible. As far as I know there is no better way than this to disengage our physical and mental powers over an extended period of time while still con-tinuing awake and alert. Anyone attempting to observe self-imposed silence and recollection during a conventional retreat knows how recalcitrant our bodies and our minds are to this kind of discipline. Not even in sleep itself, which we now know is filled with both physical and mental .activity, is there such a diminish-ment of these as there is in Zen meditation. This partial suspension of our bodily and mental activities for a set period of time daily is the objective of Zen, and from this derive its singular benefits. As we strive for this disengage-ment, and achieve it in a growing degree, we are actually induc-ing our physical and mental powers into a daily, deep repose. Not only are each member of our bodies, but also the thoughts of our hearts, put to rest during our meditation: our conflicting values competing for dominance; our desires, inordinate or not; our ambitions and passionate longings; and our memories, both joy-ful and painful, with ruminations of past grievances. Thus we turn over, to our own mysterious powers of healing within us, our bodies, minds, and hearts; and from this daily repose and renewing of the whole person, a peace is given. We speak, of course, of daily meditation-Z-not over weeks, but over months, over years. If we do Zen faithfully, we will become aware of certain gifts that mysteriously enter our lives. We are surprised by new insights that fall out of nowhere into our minds, perhaps not during the time of meditation, but at other times dur-ing the day or night. We acquire a deeper understanding of our own best values, of how to bring to bear our nobler motivations. We acquire a deeper understanding of our own weaknesses, and we 512 Review for Religious see ways which perhaps we did not see before to put to rest inor-dinate desires. We become less afflicted by painful images of griefs or disappointments; and we are less obsessed by regrets, by per-sonal defeats and shames. Even memories of hurts from deep in our childhood, of which we are perhaps only barely aware but which still send poisonous tentacles up into our present relationships, can be uncovered and healed. We are mystified by how our own recuperative powers can now work within us. Just as, for exam-ple, when one morning we awake and realize happily that at last we are he~iled of a drawn-out bout with the flu, so in practicing Zen we might one day realize that now--but not before--we are able to turn with sincere affection toward a friend who has deeply hurt us. In short, what we experience in ourselves is a self-rehabilitat-ing human being, perhaps with long-immobilized personal gifts now renewed. From this, then, our own creative energies can emerge unencumbered, with a new freedom. This healing will often spread to others around us in our family, in our community and work place, even when they are not aware we meditate. As described thus far, traditional Zen is not intrinsically a religious action; it is, thus, neither theistic nor atheistic. Hence the curious smiles coming from Zen masters when one asks if, as practitioners of Zen, they believe in God. Somewhere further on in this direction lies the experience of enlightenment. Zen masters describe enlightenment as a percep-tion totally beyond reason, beyond imagining; intuitive, yet at the core of our life itself. All of Zen teaching, they add, is but an effort to take the disciple beyond concepts and images that stand for reality, and put him or her in intimate contact with that real-ity itself. It is in vain, they maintain, to pursue intellectually this stage, since all ratiocination on this point is useless, futile, and confusing. Thomas Merton calls this "the Zen fact" and com, pares it to an alarm clock. When it goes off, the sleeper 1) does not hear and just keeps on sleeping; or 2) making a misguided response, in effect turns the alarm off, permitting him to go back to sleep; or 3) he jumps out of bed with a shout of astonishment that it is so late. Zen is the alarm clock, it merely enables us to wake up and become aware. It teaches nothing. It points. Merton continues: "But we in the West, in ego-centered practicality and ¯ . . manipulation of everything, always pass from one thing to another, from cause to effect, from the first to the next to the last and then back to the first. Everything always points to something 3~dy-August 1993 513 McCown ¯ Christian Zen-cum-Ignatian Meditation else and hence we never stop anywhere because we cannot; as soon as we pause, the escalator reaches the end of the ride and we have to get off and find another one. Nothing is allowed just to be and to mean itself; everything has to signify something else. Zen is designed to frustrate the mind thinking in such terms. 'The Zen fact,' whatever it may be, always lands across our road like a fallen tree beyond which we cannot pass. Nor are such 'facts' lacking in Christianity--the Cross for example . . . which gives Christians a radically new consciousness." The way some Zen masters describe enlightenment, as an experience of the unity of all being, reflects the monistic, cos-motheistic, philosophical climate of Zen's origins; and it can be disconcerting to a Christian. Yet, if one takes seriously one of the central teachings of Zen itself~namely, that it is the experience and not the concept of it that matters--then one may judge pan-theistic doctrine as the above to be not central to Zen. Indeed such might be for us the "misguidance" that prompts us to turn off the alarm clock, to go back to sleep and miss the experience. The "fact" of Zen is simply the experience that puts us in touch with this ultimate personal reality itself, and that, I believe, must at last come down to be our own individual living soul--the con-crete reality, not a concept of it. We cannot think our way to our soul's living presence, or analyze or visualize it; but in doing Zen we are brought to the experience .of the soul's availing itself of space to renew itself, and then of its mysterious healing powers in renewing our body, mind, and heart. Being in Zen an apprentice of only some twenty-five years, a full-blown experience of enlightenment, with 'its sudden flash of intuition, is still unknown to me. Nor do I seek it as such; as Christian, I try to keep my heart open to whatever grace the Lord sends and to whatever form he wants it to take. But before we dismiss Zen and turn off the alarm clock, I suggest we take seriously stated opinions of respected specialists, not only of such as Thomas Merton or Dom Aelred Graham, but also of Dr. John C. H, Wu, an eminent jurist and diplomat, a Chinese convert to Catholicism, and a scholar, who is able to write of Zen not from hearsay or study alone, but from within. He is not afraid to write that he brought Zen and Confucianism with him into Christianity. Looking further back, I have been assured by Carmelites who are specialists in both their tradition of con-templation and in Christian Zen that these two traditions are 514 Review for Religious essentially the same: what Teresa of Avila, in her own inimitable way, and what John of the Cross--and what Meister Eckhart 200 years before them--practiced, perhaps unknown to them, was essentially Christian Zen. But what is Christian Zen, which we will now call centering prayer, and how is it prayer if traditional Zen is not? Will an attempt to use Zen in prayer, contrary to what Zen masters main-rain-- that one cannot accommodate true Zen to any ulterior pur-pose- render it ineffectual? To answer, let me offer an analogy. Consider a ballet apprentice who works daily on her technique. She may give little thought to what ballet grammar--the body language she is learning--might be saying or to whom; she metic-ulously strives only to perfect every move, every step of it. For the present, the immediate benefits of her efforts--pride in pleasing a respected teacher, satisfaction in mastering an art--are suffi-cient reasons for striving for self-discipline; and she grows daily in poise and beauty. But one day a certain impresario discovers her and offers her a part in a new production. Now she has two things she lacked before: a role, a dramatispersona to live within, and an envisioned audience. These give form and finality to her efforts. Just as this ballerina can adapt her previously acquired skills to this new orientation, so also, as many Christian contemplatives have found, the skills and the strengths of traditional Zen, with little change in its dynamics, can be fitted into the larger synthesis of Christian prayer. Neither our ballerina above, nor a person doing Zen medi-tations daily, acts without a certain basic desire, or even a pas-sion, which drives their actions, enabling them to keep a daily commitment. One must first wish to do what is necessary to become, to be--whether in ballet, in Zen, or in Christian prayer. Satisfaction found therein will, in turn, sustain and nourish the motivation. When the prophet Samuel was a small boy sleeping in the temple, he was awakened repeatedly by a voice calling, "Samuel, Samuel!" Each time he got up and went to his master, the elderly priest Eli, and asked what he wanted. Each time Eli replied, "I didn't call, my son; go and lie down again." Again Samuel heard the voice calling, and again he went to the old priest. But this time Eli, perceiving it was thd Lord calling, instructed him, "The next time he calls, you must respond, 'Speak, Lord, for your ser-vant is listening.'" Whether that night Samuel really heard the 3~uly-August 1993 515 McCown ¯ Christian Zen-cum-Ignatian Meditation voice of God, or whether he heard only, as he had many times before, the wind blowing through the porticos of the temple, his listening and then giving response is the same. It is the reality from which the call came that makes the difference between an obedient child and the prophet-to-be. We must listen continu-ously to the voice of the Lord who speaks to us when and how he chooses. If we find traditional Zen apt for putting us in contact with the healing and peace-giving powers of our human spirit within, how much more will we find centering prayer apt for opening our beings to the Spirit of God within us, to surrendering ourselves to this Healer, this Comforter? It will be this Spirit's voice we listen for within the sound of our breathing, as she leads us into that silence within, where, using utterances beyond human words, with ineffable groaning, she cries, "Abba, Father!" Far from taking from Zen its dignity, thi~ carries it to its fulfillment. What a grace it is that Christian contemplatives discovered Zen and were able to enrich Christian asdeticism with it. The Christ-centered dynamics of the Ignatian Spiritual Exercises, especially when renewed yearly, give peace and build motivations to service, but they were not meant to be used daily over a long period of time when they can become exhausting. Centering prayer, on the other hand, not in contrast to the Exercises but ancillary to them, offers spiritual repose. Many of Ignatius's instructions can be applied with profit to Zen.medita-tion: making preparation before meditation by spiritual reading and acts of self-denial; cultivating honesty and sincerity in eval-uating our efforts at praying; making from time to time reviews of moments of joy or of sadness; and, with the retreat master's help, using carefully Ignatius's instructions on the discernment of spirits. In sessions of centering prayer, unlike in other forms of med-itation, one does not pray the words of any pious text, nor even of Holy Scripture. Words, whether we want them to or not, will bloom into images, and images invite concepts which multiply, and thus we are on the way to taking our bodies and minds out of that total surrender to the Spirit, the true mode of centering prayer. Rather, we should see each session of this prayer as that time when the Bridegroom is present before us, looking into our eyes, speaking into our hearts, so we put aside during this qual-ity time his love-letters from times past, no matter how treasured 516 Review for Religious they are. With no more than a bow of adoration and a word to greet him by name, such as, "Jesus, have mercy on me, a sinner," we surrender ourselves with total passivity to his Spirit within us, who will shape our minds and hearts according to his holy will. In this action of the Spirit, one is reminded of a great, silent, mov-ing body of water, imperceptibly and with ease, carrying all obstacles before it. We will look forward to this daily prayer as the best moment of our day, and find in it an anchor for the rest of our lives. Let me mention now one special blessing I have received through centering prayer. When I was a very small child, I once heard my older brothers, one six, the other seven years old, talking about how hell is "for ever and ever--for eternity, which never, ever ends." My mind became beset with fearful images of this eternity, like "the void of infin-ity" that so terrified Pascal. These were most acute when I was ill, which I often was, with high fever, and with accompanying nightmares. During these I often dreamed I was looking up and saw the ceiling above me (and all reality with it) recede up and up and up, for ever and ever. My sight was forced to go with it, on and on, and I could never, ever make it stop; and that was eternity. And I felt desperately alone and forsaken. I could not turn off the nightmare, until my screams brought my father or mother who would awake me and comfort me. This terror remained with me even into later life. When I discovered Zen meditation, which then became for me centering prayer, I took up the custom, after meditating and during the brief prickly feeling as my legs recovered circulation, of lying back on the rug and looking straight up at the ceiling, never forgetting that this was the way I had so fearfully felt I was look-ing into the face of eternity. But over the years, gradually, imper-ceptibly, the terror departed. In its place has grown a trust in God's mercy and, even, flashes--ever so brief and fleeting--of joy in looking forward to my death, which now is approaching apace. These graces I consider among the most precious of my life. Remembering how the ancients strove to get the gods' atten-tion, we know we have already the Father's attention in his son, Jesus, who taught us to pray to his father by offering, not per- We must listen continuously to the voice of the Lord who speaks to us when and how he chooses. 3~ly-Aug'ust 1993 517 McCown ¯ Christian Zen-cum-Ignatian Meditation ishable gifts of animals slaughtered or wine or grain poured out, but one infinitely more desirable: our total selves. This same Jesus promised, moreover, "whatever you ask the Father in my name, he will give it to you." Jesus must have meant precisely that, unless we ask for something that is not good for us, then he will give us something else--something far better for us. Centering prayer, as an ancilla to the Spiritual Exercises, more than any other prayer method I know, enables us to put ourselves into this total trust-ing frame of mind, not stating what we think we want, or need, or when, but silently taking Jesus at his word and waiting. The Father, who knows our needs far better than we do, will respond; and why wouldn't he, since Jesus said he would? Night Prayer The saints have left for the day, their stained-glass coves Are dark. The night, that deep iconoclast, Obscures the panes with his breath, as a prayer revolves Inside me, calling to the blackened east. I close my eyes and linger there, in the glow Of a bleak and fallen image of the outcast world, And wander through remembered brambles that grow Where squandered immortalities should. When young I crossed an ocean. Nearing land Candescent seeds arose from the water's rim As if sown in the sky by a hopeful, graceful hand To mingle with a tide of stars, to bloom unseen. From the altar candles' final gasp of light Two tendrils of smoke vanish into night. Kevin McCaffrey OP 518 Revie~v for Religious MARY CORONA God's Human Face Revealed: A Retreat in Wales Iyhad been living and working in Amman, Jordan, for eight ears when in 1989 I began reading The Journeying Self, by Diarmuid McGann. Becoming deeply involved with it, I came across these words: "The journey of faith begins at the Lord's invitation. He finds us in our places of marginal existence, where we hunger for liberation." I did not go further than that for sev-eral months, but those lines I read over and over again. I could wrest no personal meaning from them, and yet somehow they riveted me. At the same time I was picking my way through a book by Karl Rahner. Being no scholar, "picking" is how I cope with Rahner, and yet I am hugely attracted by him. Of the many sentences I jotted down knowing that I would return to them, here are a few: In contemplation the pray-er is intent on hearing an utter-ance of God never given before . We need the courage to believe that God will say some-thing permanent. It will happen when God is ready. God places me in complete freedom. He deals with me leaving intact my autonomy and self-direction. God is Love and in the face of that--I decide. There were many more, and while I went about my life in community and my teaching duties, these thoughts floated in and out of my mind whenever my interior screen was empty, setting up such a longing that I knew I would need to respond sooner or later. Mary Corona FMDM lives at 6, St. Anthony's Road; Forest Gate; London E7 9QA; England. .~uly-Auguxt 1993 519 Corona ¯ God's Human Face Revealed Remote PreparationmI Go to Anjara The time to plan my annual retreat came round. I thought of Jerusalem, where I had made retreats before, but I had little heart for going there because of the heavy military presence at the time. Though Jordan itself has no retreat facilities, I knew that Father Joseph Na'maat, a diocesan priest in the north of Jordan, had spare rooms in a separate building which anyone was welcome to use on a self-catering basis. He said if I came during July I would have the entire building to myself. With typical Jordanian courtesy he also told me that his house and his table would be mine anytime I felt lonely. Josephine, his housekeeper, would, he assured me, keep an eye on things and make sure I was all right. The fee was so small it was a joke. So eight days on my own loomed. How would I work it out? I went along the shelves of our library and found Rahner's Eight Day Retreat and a paperback copy of the Ignatian Exercises. From my room I picked up my Bible and missal and that was all. I think the journey of faith McGann discusses began for me that day. I felt quite naked going off with what seemed so little in the way of resources. Anjara is a village in the northern Jordanian countryside. Feeling at home in the Arab world and having enough Arabic to do my own shopping, talk with people, and get by generally, I had no fears along those lines. On my arrival I was given a warm welcome by Father Joseph and the redoubtable Josephine. Then, after being shown "my" building and handed the keys, I heard the oft-repeated words "If it gets too lonely, you know where we are!" That first evening I worked out a program for the eight days, allotting time for the breviary, rosary, and Scripture reading. I then marked out three separate hours daily for prayer, leaving time for rest and recreation which, during the eight days, would take the form of walks, sitting on the roof in the sun absorbing the view, and wandering in my host's extensive orchard followed by his floppy old dog. Knowing nothing previously about the Exercises, I soon aban-doned the paperback because it made no sense to me.I stuck to the Bible and the missal and continued to read over the sentences from McGann and Rahner which had so affected me. For the full eight days I spoke to no one, except the dog. I waved to Father Joseph each morning after Mass and that was the excitement over 520 Review for Religious for the day. Through the grace of God, I remained faithful to all to which I had committed myself. On my final evening Josephine came to bring me over to sup-per and, like the hedgerow and byways folk of the gospel, I was compelled to attend. If you have never experienced an Arab sup-per or indeed Arab hospitality, you have missed one of life's love-lier moments. We sat on the verandah eating, talking, and--I must admit--drinking slightly too much of Father Joseph's homemade wine. The sun slowly sank behind the brown hills. Lamps were lit, creating a soft pool of light in the velvet darkness, and the night insects began their con-cert. We sat on. Eventually, however, and with real reluctance I rose, to a duet from Father Joseph and Josephine of "So soon?" I went to bed that night heavy with good food and wine and quite drunk--no, not from wine, but from the heady smell of honeysuckle and jasmine coupled with the heart-swell that comes from having spent a long summer evening with friends. The following day I returned to Amman knowing that I must do the long retreat. This is where the invitation mentioned by McGann and previously so dimly perceived was pointing. What a Franciscan was doing being so convinced that a Jesuit approach to life and prayer was the right one, I cannot say. But convinced I was. I waved to Father Joseph each morning after Mass and that was the excitement over for the day. To Wales I set about obtaining permissions for the following year and began to look for a place. Almost everyone I spoke to suggested looking for a Jesuit-run center, saying this w6uld be right for what I had in mind. But I prefer retreat houses run by women: they are cozier, and I like my creature comforts. After a few blanks I got a positive answer from a small guest-cum-retreat house, Coleg y Groes, in North Wales. Yes, they could take me. Yes, one of them could direct me. Yes, they were in the heart of the coun-try, and to all my other questions yes . . . yes . . . yes. I booked, hesitant to share with some of my more conservative friends that all was not as they might expect. I would be alone without the support of a group; I would be directed by a deacon, not a priest; 3~uly-Aug~tst 199.t 521 Corona ¯ God's Human Face Revealed worse still, an Anglican deacon; worse again, a woman Anglican deacon! What would Ignatius have said? In August 1990 I returned to England, and in July 1991 I traveled to Wales. Arriving in time for supper, I found the small 18th-century house nestled behind the Anglican parish church in the village of Corwen. My room was very nice, with the promise of quiet. My quick eye noticed the electric kettle, tea bags, and coffee. It all augured well. I began to get the sinking feeling that comes from having made a big decision and then eeing the signs going wrong. I Meet My Directress Margaret, who was to direct me, suggested I join the other guests for supper that first evening; after that I would dine alone. Supper was served in a delightful low-beamed room with a huge fireplace cut from Welsh stone. Flowers were in the deeply set window alcoves, and the whole place exuded security and good living. I began, however, to get the sinking feeling that comes from having made a big decision and then seeing the signs going wrong. To my Roman mind the conversation became so Anglican, cen-tered on the ordination of women. Most of the women present, and indeed Margaret her-self, were ordained deacons. It was the last thing I wanted to get involved in. Intermingled with that were fairly long dis-sertations on the three resident cats. I drained my coffee cup as I tried to quell the rising panic within me. Relief came when Margaret suggested we go to my room for a first talk. In five minutes my fears evaporated. I knew instinctively that in her I was on to a winner. That night I slept well, waking totally refreshed. I made coffee, and one glance at the Welsh weather put me into warm trousers and a thick sweater. In the still sleeping village I found the small Catholic church. Inside, in a back pew, was a very still figure. I knelt down near the door, ready to escape if this man were not the sort I ought to seek out for company. After some minutes he looked up and said "Welcome." This was Father Joseph (I seemed destined to be mixed up with Josephs and 522 Revie'w for Religious Josephines). In answer to my question he said that so seldom did anyone come for daily Mass that we could arrange it any time suited to the two of us. Father became a true friend to me during my thirty days. He watched over me with such care and was always available for counsel or confession. That first morning he arranged for me to have a key to the church so that I could come and go at will. He knew Margaret and felt I was safe in her hands. The Thirty Days Begin And so the routine for the thirty days began. Margaret sug-gested that for the first three days I just browse over my own favorite passages of Scripture, go for walks, and take on an atmo-sphere of quiet. That first morning I took my Bible and went out. I sat overlooking a sweeping green valley and read slowly through some of my favorites: "Widen the spaces of your tent." (Is 55:2); "Behold the Bridegroom is coming." (Mt 25:7); "May He give you the power., to grow strong . " (Ep 3:16-21). And through it all I wondered just what I was doing, alone in Wales, on the threshold of this experience. Those first three days went in very gently. Sleep, walks, quiet reading, and three one-hour prayer periods a day. The kettle, tea, and coffee played their part. On the fourth day we started in earnest into the pattern of the retreat. We moved into four one hour periods of prayer a day. Each "day" would begin at 5 p.m. The four "weeks" were to be flexible as regards length. Margaret spent considerable time giving me the background to the Exercises. As she spoke, words from Robert Gleeson's intro-duction to Anthony Mottola's translation of the Exercises came back to me: "Ignatius intended to stay in Manresa for a few days. These days stretched into ten months with results that are still reverberating around the world." Yes, I thought, even to Corwen. Something of Margaret's own love for Ignatius overflowed into me. Here was no mere competent guide, but rather one who was imbued with the spirit of Ignatius. I felt very secure, but real-ized Margaret was no soft touch as she explained the conditions: no reading, other than that prescribed; no music, news, corre-spondence, conversation, and so forth. She spoke of the neces-sity of being utterly faithful to the full one-hour prayer periods, and she warned me off interior conversation which could easily become the little foxes destroying the vineyard. When she had July-Auffust 1993 523 Corona ¯ God's Human Face Revealed finished, my snug feeling of security had drastically slipped, to he replaced by a sense of vulnerable nakedness. Thus stripped I entered the first "week" of the retreat. The First Week (Seven Days) Sin, in its hideousness, was the focus of this first week. Powerful meditations on words previously heard but never fully absorbed came back to influence my prayer. The First Principle and Foundation offered at the beginning of this week presented such a challenge thai it almost unseated me. Could I, in complete sincerity, make such a prayer? Part of my background reading said, "This law which I enjoin on you this day is not beyond your strength" (Dr 30:11-14). These words stood, like a kind mother, beside the demands of the First Principle and Foundation, urging me to compliance. Yet I hesitated. I moved on into the sin of Adam and Eve; the Angels; the Prodigal Son--all meditated on against a background of Philippians 2:1-11, Baruch 1:13-22 and 63, and Ephesians 1:13- 14 and all deepening in me an appreciation of the heinousness of sin. Karl Rahner says (I quote from memory), "I need to see sin, not so much as an offence against God, but rather as a rebuff against Jesus personally," and "I see him wasting there on the cross--for us--and ~eeing him in such plight, I make my deci-sion." It is difficult to take a detached view of sin with words like that running round one's mind. As the first week was coming to a close, the next commit-ment point was drawing near, the Kingdom meditation with its inbuilt self-offering; and yet I had still not made the First Principle and Foundation my own. I felt discouraged. If I could not per-sonalize the sentiments of the First Principle and Foundation, was there any point in going on? I told Margaret of my difficulty. She suggested rewriting it in language I would feel at home with. And that proved to be the answer. It was the stiff, masculine lan-guage that was getting in the way. After rewriting it in my own words, I could accept what Deuteronomy had been trying to tell me. On the seventh evening Margaret said that tomorrow would be a repose day. She explained what this meant: one prayer period this evening, a good night's sleep, then, after morning Mass, out for the day; on my return in the evening, one more prayer period 524 Review for Religious before she came to see me. She gave me a few ideas as to where I could go. I chose Llangollen: it seemed a place where I could continue to be quiet while doing something different. The Kingdom Meditation-- and Some Sort of Disturbance The meditation given me for the eve of the repose day was the Kingdom, so after supper, and with my inner eye on my day out, I settled down to this period of reflective prayer--and it all went wrong. The whole hour tumbled around in a confusion of despon-dency and misery. I saw myself as a hypocrite and a fool and felt sick with disappointment and embar-rassment. I was not being called as Rahner sug-gested; this was all totally beyond me regardless of Deuteronomy; there was nothing here for me. Some of us are destined for mediocrity; I was obviously one such. Illusion would get me nowhere, and get-ting nowhere was costing a lot of money and time. Leaving my room, I went out into the garden. The moon was riding high, swiftly brushing aside the small clouds which, busy about their own affairs, were trotting along in the opposite direc-tion. Shadows flitted about the garden, and some-where nearby an owl hooted. Further away a dog was barking, but it soon trailed off into a lazy yawn--his heart just was not in it. And here, under the canopy of deep sky, my thought slowly came together and clarified; I began to see what was going on. I returned to my room and found my crucifix and holding it firmly commanded, in the name and power of the crucified and resur-rected Christ, everything not of God to depart. I repeated the command twice. The result: "The storm abated and there was a great calm" (Mk 4:39). Without further ado I made my Kingdom offering as given by Ignatius, went to bed, and slept. Some of US are destined for mediocrity; I was obviously one such. The First Repose Day A glorious day of sunshine and Welsh mountains. A ride on the Railway Enthusiasts' railway from Llangollen along the moun-tainside to Deeside Halt; a leisurely walk by the canal where later I sat and ate my sandwiches while watching boys--up to the age ~uly-Aug'ust 1993 525 Corona ¯ God's Human Face Revealed of forty plus--playing with their boats. Full of fresh air and peace, I returned to Corwen on an early evening bus. Each turn in the road presented a different scene to delight the heart, and I found myself silently singing the word of St. Francis's Canticle of the Sun: "All praise be yours, my Lord, through all that you have made., and first for Brother Sun. how beautiful he is! How radiant!., and Brothers Wind and Air. and all the weathers' moods . " It seemed so appropriate. (Something I discovered during these thirty days was that Francis and Ignatius have much in common.) After supper Margaret came, and I told her of the previous night's upset. She said it was to be expected and then referred me to the description of discernment of spirits in the Exercises, where it was all clearly set out. The important thing, she said, was that I had made the Kingdom offering. Much was gained and nothing at all lost. The Second Week (Eleven Days) And so into the second week. I traveled far in that week. Journeying with Jesus through his life in the given meditations, I became aware of another journey I was making, toward a deeper commitment--and yet my previous fear of.fidl commitment reared up again and again. The demand was too clear, too total, too final. There was no space for maneuver. I stalled badly and frequently during that week. Margaret advised me to use the First Principle and Foundation offering and also the Kingdom offering as ways into the given meditations. She also gave me some salutary advice: "Don't try to give today what properly belongs to tomorrow." "The grace for the future is not yet being offered." I remembered similar advice given me in the past. As a young sister I had made a group retreat under a Carmelite friar. In one of his talks he said that many people fail to advance because they quail before what they fear may be asked of them if they say an unreserved yes. They forget that God is totally to be trusted and would never take unfair advantage of a generous yes. A superior, at a later date, took up the same theme with me (it seems I have had this lack-of-trust problem forever!) and said: "The Lord is total courtesy. He doesn't grab. He looks at what you have and asks 'May I take this?' If you refuse, he will not insist--for the time being any-way." Urn--for the time being. 526 Review for Religious The Two Standards and the Three Classes of Men These meditations caused the same problem that the First Principle and Foundation and the Kingdom had caused; as I saw it, all called for total and irrevocable commitment. Again I had to remind myself of what Margaret had said and what the Carmelite friar and my own superior had said when I was just knee high in my religious life. I spent long hours beg-ging the grace of trust. I tried to reset my focus and not waste precious time looking at abstract problems and missing the grace of reality. I turned to St. Francis at this stage and found his presence a great comfort. On the twentieth day, after lots of struggle but also tremendous peaks of joy and achievement, Margaret suggested I spend one day drawing the experience of the entire two weeks together and then summarize it in a truth-ful prayer of offering. As I set about doing this, I found it amaz-ing how I could look back along the road I had traveled and see so clearly the efforts, frustrations, joys, hopes, gains, losses, and desires and the loneliness and--running in and out of it all like a flame in dry grass--the'fear. And yet ~omehow it all came together with a marvelous coherence: everything fitted. I could see, with a rare clarity, that God was with me. I had moved. I had definitely moved. I had moved light years from where I had been two weeks previously. For better or for worse, I had moved. The agonizing lack of trust, the fears, the anxieties were all part of this pattern of walking. The Lord had supplied where I had been weak. Together we had made it through these two weeks. He had blessed me beyond all imagining and had accepted my desire as though it were something of substance. I was content. On the twenty-second day, a repose day, I went to Ruthin and presume I had a relaxed day, but I have no memory of it. Without the brief note in my journal saying I had been there, I would not know I had. What that says about me I have no idea. I could see, with a rare clarity, that God was with me. I had moved. The Third Week (Five Days) Margaret moved me into the last earthly days of Jesus. Over the next days, spread over five one-hour meditation periods, which j~¢O-dugust1993 527 Corona ¯ God's Human Face Revealed included a midnight hour, I contemplated the Lord at the Last Supper, Gethsemane, and Calvary and right through to the postresurrecfion period. Having visited the Holy Land many times while living in the Middle East, I found it very easy to situate these meditations, but somehow the depths eluded me. On the twenty-fourth day Margaret suggested that I spend four of my five one-hour prayer periods reading through the four different accounts of the Passion. Anyone who has done this in one day will know it does not come easy. Physically it is draining to read something of that nature and length with concentration. By the evening it had quite taken me over, and after supper I went for a long walk, but somehow I could not shake off (was I even meant to?) the felt heaviness of trudging the Calvary road four times. Another Disturbance It is not easy to stay with someone in agony while knowing you are part responsible. During the night I woke in the grip of a strange tension, feel-ing physically cold and frightened. I have never been especially brave, but I am not given to irrational fear, and this sense of men-ace was wholly irrational; yet it made me feel that, if I did not give up this retreat, it would break me. For several minutes I did nothing beyond switching on the light and allowing the fear to swamp me. Fear of what? I could put no name to it. Then I remembered Margaret's words, based on those of Ignatius: "It is common for the evil spirit to cause sad-ness, fear, discouragement, and acute anxiety and to place all sorts of obstacles in the way of right reason. The good spirit gives courage, strength, inspiration, light, and peace so that right reason will prevail. Learn to distin-guish." Once again I reached for my crucifix and holy water and followed my previous routine. All returned to normal, but it took some time. The twenty-sixth day I spent quietly looking back over the entire Passion. It proved to be a very hard day. It is not easy to stay with someone in agony while knowing you are part responsible. On the twenty-seventh day, another repose day, I went to Lake Bala. It was a beautiful day, but too hot. Tourists and pic-nickers were all over the place--not helpful. I found the Catholic 528 Review for Religious church, a small converted stable. It was very peaceful, and I stayed quietly there for some time before boarding the bus for the ride home through heart-lifting scenery. The Fourth Week--Coming to the End I was now coming to the end of this whole experience, and Margaret suggested moving back from five to four periods of prayer, 6mitring the night one. She also brought me a tape recorder and some classical-music tapes. Winning some grand prize could not have brought me more joy. I was ecstatic. On the twenty-eighth day I meditated on John 20:11-18, Mary Magdalen's encounter with Jesus in the garden, with Isaiah 30:18- 26 and 35:1-10 as background. I also used Luke 24:13-35, the Emmaus story, with Psalm 62 as background. I became quite filled with the quiet. Jesus' sufferings were over. His pain was finished. I was able to walk calmly in the garden with Mary Magdalen--you see, I knew the answer to her question. The Emmaus road also was peaceful. Again I had the advantage: I knew who he was. All this was leading me quite naturally into the Contemplation to Attain Divine Love. From the twenty-ninth day onward I used this con-templation for one period each day, the other three periods cov-ering postresurrection Scripture. I continued my daily walks in the serene countryside, which for me became Galilee, where Jesus said he wo~ld meet his friends again and where I myself have walked many times. A Final Disturbance One meditation, on the thirtieth day, was given over to the events that include Jesus cooking breakfast for his hungry disci-ples. As I moved further into the scene, it all changed and became blasphemous; but I did not recognize it as such. My discerning powers were, it seemed, in suspension. During Mass the follow-ing morning I became aware that something had been very wrong with that meditation. I looked back at it and saw immediately the gross irreverence of the scenes which had been presented to my view. I was aghast and marveled that I had not realized at the time what was going on. I went hotfoot to Father Joseph after Mass and poured out my sorry story. He took it all very calmly--as con-fessors are apt to do--and explained how the devil will use every July-August 1993 529 Corona ¯ God's Human Face Revealed possible means to stop a person pursuing a course that has as its aim a closer union with God. Margaret, of course, said the same thing. The experience left me with a profound disgust of the one who works such evil things. The Final Days The thirty-first and final day arrived. I drew together the ele-ments of the four key meditations--the Kingdom, the Two Standards, the Three Classes of Men, the Three Modes of Humility. I then moved them into a prayer of offering that I tried to make utterly truthful and realistic for me. Later that day I had a final few words with Father Joseph and returned the keys of the church. Back at the house I had a last talk with Margaret and my retreat was over. The following day I left Corwen and--via Wrexham, Chester, Crewe, Euston, and Plaistow, changing train or bus at each one--I arrived home in London. Eighteen Months Later Days have built on days, and a year and a half has passed since my long retreat. By now it should have gone the way of all the others. It has not done so. Father Joseph's words during our final talk, "You will never be the same again, this experience has changed you," have stayed with me; I know them to be true. That retreat has changed many things. It has set sin in its right context, one which makes scant distinction between small and big offenses. It has cleared away any number of secondary purposes and under-lined the one purpose for which I was born. It has filled my store-rooms with kindling, that I may not perish when my winter fires burn low. It has increased my recovery rate, so that sin and repen-tance are almost simultaneous. It has brought a staying power I never thought to possess; a strength to stay with prayer even when, apparently, there is nothing in it to stay for. It has brought an acceptance that I am as I am and, as far as performance goes, the future will not be much different; progress will still be wob-bly, with backward steps, with fears and sin. But this acceptance of my situation has brought a new dependence; I know I will make it through to the end if I cling like a limpet to Christ. There is, quite simply, no other way. 530 ' Re~ie~ for Religious The Human Face of God But overriding and underpinning all this is the greatest change of all. I am aware that, through all the contemplations of that month, even those during which I was distracted, irritated, fidgety, or just plain bored, God was working. He was working as one whose work it is to take an old manuscript, mosaic, or fresco and restore it to its original beauty; he was etching and bringing into relief, for me personally, the lines of his own human face. I can no longer think of God without, at the same time, seeing Christ; I see him, in some small measure, as Francis of Assisi saw him in great, in the people, however seemingly insignificant, and in the events, however trivial, that form th~ fabric of my everyday life. This new vision is the greatest grace to accompany me into these, the afterdays. The word "Wales" will never again mean for me just a geo-graphical place, hut rather will set a pause for remembering: remembering that revelation did not end with the Apocalypse; remembering how God revealed his face to me in Wales; remem-bering how something of beauty was planted within me and has, in spite of me, continued to grow. My life has become perma-nently divided into "before Wales" and "after Wales." And it all started way back in Jordan, where I "hungered for liberation" and knew myself "intent on hearing an utterance of God never given before" (in the words of McGann and Rahner) and felt strongly impelled, Franciscan and all that I am, to take up the invitation to an Ignatian experience. That, and so much more, is what my long retreat was all about. Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distri-bution, advertising, or institutional promotion or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will be consid-ered only on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. July-August 1993 531 TAD DUNNE What Trouble Is spiritual life Most of us, at some lull in the cacophony of life, think to ourselves, "I really should be a person who . " And we take some stand on avoiding trouble. Of course, trouble wears many hats. There is the regular trouble of having to learn through our mistakes. There is our unwitting igno-rance of the times when our behavior makes others roll their eyes. Or maybe the trouble is our own doing, like the lies we lay on others and the follow-up work we lay on ourselves just to keep our stories straight. Or like the legacy of emotional trouble callous parents bequeath to their children that continues long after they have died and the children have grown up. The stand we take to avoid trouble is usually rather elemental. We hope a simple strategy can meet every kind of trouble coming our way. Not that we succeed. Indeed, the reason we do not succeed may well be that the way we defined our troubles was a big mistake. This is why, for many of us, our images of God are shaped less by our experience of divine help or by the Scriptures and more by how we conceptualized our getting into trouble in the first place. When people describe their spiritual journeys to me, they usually divide the chapters according to this or that difficulty from which God delivered them, but the difficulties were defined very often by simple earthly sym-bols, not by any measures drawn from revelation. Tad Dunne writes on contemporary spirituality. His address is 2923 Woodslee; Royal Oak, Michigan 48073. 532 Review for Religious We get most of the symbols of our troubles from the drama of everyday life--a vacillating boss, a domineering spouse, hard work with no reward, bad weather, and so on. But where people draw the line on what is unacceptable to them will vary nation to nation, old to young, woman to man, race to race. So, before we assume that our view of trouble is totally objective, we need to look instead at the experiences of trouble common to everyone. Then we can look at what the gospel says about trouble and make comparisons about what we have observed. Our universally common experiences of trouble lie not in the dramatic but in the practical patterns in our experiences--expe-riences like carrying burdens, feeling slowed down, running into roadblocks, taking chances and missing, setting schedules and failing to meet them, planting seeds that produce puny fruit, arranging our surroundings carefully and finding that the sur-roundings have trapped us. Everyone, in any culture, grows up with these practical troubles and looks for ways to overcome them. The Example of Physics For the sake of talking about these analogs of our miseries, it will help to classify them. One simple way follows the example of physics. In physics we expect events to occur either in a natural relationship to other events or just coincidentally. While physicists talk about the naturally related events by using terms like elec-tromagnetism, gravity, or inertia, children simply notice that when A happens, then B usually happens. Behind the merely coinci-dental events lie no laws at all, so physicists talk about probabil-ities and norms while ordinary people talk about taking chances and seizing once-in-a-lifetime opportunities. Each of these two kinds of expectations, of regularity and of chance, gets frustrated in its own way. Regularity is frustrated when a routine is broken or a law is not followed. Chance is frus-trated when overcontrol eliminates the lucky chance or when exceptions to the rule are somehow ruled out of court. But each kind excludes the other, and so, pressured as we ar.e by this intrin-sic antinomy to Choose only one as our fundamental code for translating experience into meaning, some of us worship a God of Law and others a God of Freedom. The Broken Routine. The God of Law is incarnated in our ear- 3~uly-August 1993 533 Dunne ¯ What Trouble Is God brings salvation by giving laws to maintain order and by raising up saints to serve as our examples. liest teacher of regularity: the sun. It gives us as children a sym-bol of what it means to be faithful, kindly, and dependable. We learn at an early age what our race took eons to formulate in a principle: that bodies in motion keep going and bodies at rest stay where they are. If only people could be that orderly! So we experience the trouble of broken routine. Things are going smoothly and something interrupts. Interruptions and contradictions are our enemies, though we can never fully avoid them. Better calm down and do what God expects and all shall be well. Pity those who live in chaos, who seem never to settle down, who spend their lives searching for they know not what. They could well learn a lesson from nature that life lies in regu-larity and dependability. This elemental experience of day alter-nating with night has a remarkable influence on the loftiest and most religious levels of our psyches. We imagine the kingdom of God as a smooth meshing of generation upon generation of peo-ple, as if the oiling of divine grace was meant to eliminate all fric-tion between people. God is an implacable and consistent Trinity, a perfect community, an example which every human family and nation is called to imitate as far as possible. God brings salvation by giving laws to maintain order and by raising up saints to serve as our examples. Life is essentially a struggle of law and order over anarchy and extreme independence. OvercontroL The second kind of trouble is practically the oppo-site of the first. As the first kind loves controls, the second hates them. At some time in our growing up, when we discover that we have taken too many of our parents' controls to heart, we start to wriggle free of them. We take a chance. When governments lay such heavy controls on people that hardly anything is left to chance, we condemn them. The worst kind of control, of course, is self-imposed--when I make more resolutions than I could pos-sibly keep or when I forbid myself to ever try anything daring or maturing. Trouble is anything that impedes probabilities. These elemental experiences tell us that God is a God of free-dom, calling us to a radical trust in all we do. The voice is per- 534 Review for Religious vasive: Let go of trying to control everything and everyone; you are ruining yourself in the process and will never succeed in any case. God will never lay a load on your back without also giving you a strohg back with which to carry it. "Look at the birds of the air . " Human planning is largely a waste of time. The goals of our endeavors so seldom match their outcomes that it is a won-der we keep on setting goals. God will intervene at the oppor-tune moment; divinity cannot be pinned down to laws and predictability. And so on. The Example of Biology Notice how these first two kinds of order and trouble are dis-tinguished by whether or not individual events are either part of some repeating cycle or the result of mere chance. We can also look at sequences of events or stages in something undergoing development. Again, to keep this simple, we can distinguish two fundamental kinds of development, those driven by a single law or principle and those driven by forces only coincidentally related to each other. The single-law kind can be illustrated by seeds. Tulip bulbs develop tulips, not dandelions, and, within quite narrow ranges of development, tulips everywhere look alike. Multiple-principle development can be represented by human relation-ships. People's values differ from each other across the face of the earth far more than tulips do. The reason is that the genetic coding in the fertilized egg that each of us once was does not confine the range of our potential development anywhere near as tightly as the tulip's coding does. Growing up, we continually "recode" ourselves by our choices. By interacting with others we develop in dialectical fashion, making something unrepeatable of both ourselves and our surroundings. If both the genetic (single-law) and the dialectical (multiple-principle) kinds of development are elemental,-then we can expect them to precondition what we mean by trouble and, by exten-sion, what we mean by God's saving grace. Again, the dichotomy between these two kinds of development tends to force a reli-gious choice between a God of Success and what I shall call a God of Exchange. The Weeds among the Wheat. One kind of trouble is caused by bad beginnings. It concerns anyone anxious to make continual July-August 1993 535 Dunne ¯ 14/-bat Trouble Is growth and progress, anyone who worships the God of Success. Long before people study genetics in biology, they experience built-in potentials and patterns of growth everywhere, in flow-ers, birds, and house pets. But some elements interfere with nat-ural fulfillment and choke the natural process of growth. These elements may be people, who themselves have been affected by their own upbringing. The notion here is that people are basi-cally good and that, given rich soil and hearty fertilizer, every person and every project will turn out a success. The worst form of this kind of trouble shows when a person feels predestined to fail because of some original and irreparable personality flaw. If we develop sheerly by genetic laws, then it would follow that God calls us to be creators, to overcome obstacles, and to keep a positive spirit. There is no doubt that the kingdom will come; the inner workings of grace in history guarantee it, sure as an acorn will become an oak. Our job is simply to help it come more quickly. It will be a kingdom of exciting new discoveries, increasing cooperation among all people, and continual improve-ment in people's health and happiness. The Good News is simply the announcement that Jesus loves you and that you have the germ of grace within you. Sin is ignorance, not malice. Evangelization is chiefly education; moral reform will follow auto-matically. In the meantime, we are called to grow in holiness, to grow closer and closer to God like a blossoming flower. Hoarding Energy. This fourth kind of trouble is also about growth, but the pattern of development is determined by a series of events related to each other only by chance. We notice how living things are determined not only by origins or seeds but through a continual exchange with their environments. Here biol-ogy studies how living things give and take within their ,sur-roundings. Flowers give honey to bees while the bees ensure progeny for the flowers. While genetic coding strictly limits any one bee's behavior, the location of beehives and the proliferation of flowers are interdependent. Should a storm wipe out one, the other soon disappears. So nature's contentious personality gives us a symbol of a God of give-and-take, a historical God, an engaged God. Farmers plow their fields and their fields return corn. The better the plowing the better the corn and the better the farmer. The quality of the exchange has a dialectical effect on both sides. 536 Revieva for Religious The same goes for the growth and decay of our friendships. Eventually the friendship is either good for both of us or good for neither one. Trouble comes when things cost more than they return. If a boy exasperates his friends by compulsive chatter, he does not feel energized. He wears everyone out, including himself. Then there is the trouble we cause when we take more from the phys-ical environment than we contribute to it, as is evident in oil spills, acid rains, and fluorocarbon-charged spray cans. Whatever the case, there is trouble eithe

L'oggetto di questa tesi è la peculiare comparsa del termine imperator in un numero esiguo, ma comunque significativo di documenti provenienti dal regno di Asturia e León e dalla Britannia del X secolo. Se già di per sé questa sorta di "incongruenza storica" cattura l'attenzione, il fatto che i due fenomeni imperiali siano praticamente contemporanei e si sviluppino in due contesti molto distanti nello spazio, senza un apparente collegamento, evidenzia l'opportunità di uno studio comparativo. Ad una più attenta analisi, non si può fare a meno di notare come, in entrambi gli ambiti, il secolo immediatamente precedente sia stato caratterizzato da un momento particolarmente favorevole per la cultura – el renacimiento asturiano e the alfredian renaissance – reso possibile dall'azione attiva di due monarchi, Alfonso III di Asturia e León (866-910) e Alfred di Wessex (871-899). Nelle corti di questi sovrani vennero redatte delle cronache (le Crónicas Asturianas e la Anglo-Saxon Chronicle) nelle quali si proponeva una chiave di lettura della storia tesa a ricercare una nuova identità per i rispettivi popoli e si sottolineava il ruolo centrale delle rispettive dinastie regnanti. L'obiettivo della tesi è pertanto duplice: da una parte si desidera comprendere in quale modo e in quale senso sia stato utilizzato il termine imperator nella documentazione presa in esame, dall'altra si prova a capire quale peso ebbero le nuove identità etniche, religiose e territoriali, elaborate nelle già citate cronache, all'interno di questi fenomeni imperiali. Per una miglior resa dell'argomentazione si è deciso di dividere la tesi in due blocchi, il primo dedicato alle cronache del IX secolo e il secondo ai documenti in cui compare il titolo imperiale, risalenti al secolo successivo. A sua volta ciascun blocco si divide quindi in due capitoli, all'interno dei quali le tematiche vengono declinate nel caso ispanico e in quello anglosassone. La tesi si apre con la presentazione dei criteri impiegati nella selezione del corpus di "documenti imperiali" (Cap. 1) – nome con cui si definiscono i diplomi al cui interno compare il titolo di imperator – che ammontano ad un totale 38, di cui 20 asturiano-leonesi (privati e pubblici) e 18 anglosassoni (esclusivamente pubblici). A seguire viene fornito il contesto storico (Cap. 2) e lo status quaestionis (Cap. 3). Nel primo capitolo del primo blocco (Cap. 4) vengono trattate le tre cronache prodotte nella corte asturiano-leonese alla fine del IX secolo: conosciute anche come Crónicas Asturianas, sono intitolate rispettivamente Crónica Albeldense, Crónica Profetica e Crónica de Alfonso III. Per rendere il quadro qui esposto il più completo possibile si inizia trattando il patrimonio librario a disposizione degli autori delle cronache. A seguire si delineano i profili delle tre opere, soffermandosi in particolar modo sulla loro paternità e datazione. Si forniscono quindi indicazioni sulla tradizione manoscritta di queste cronache per poi tracciare un percorso tra le fonti. In questa parte si chiariscono concetti come quello di identità (etnica, religiosa e geografica), e si assiste alla comparsa di temi storiografici come quelli della Reconquista e del neogoticismo. Questi elementi costituiscono il punto di partenza per un ragionamento teso a far emergere il background ideologico comune a tutte e tre cronache. Nel corrispettivo capitolo inglese (Cap. 5) si delinea un profilo della produzione letteraria, in particolare storiografica, che ha caratterizzato le ultime due decadi del IX secolo anglosassone. Si inizia inquadrando gli uomini che formarono parte della cosiddetta alfredian reinassance per poi analizzare il ruolo avuto, all'interno di questo momento di rinascita culturale, dalle traduzioni in Old English delle grandi opere storiografiche. Infine, si propone una rilettura dell'unica opera storiografica scritta ex novo – l'Anglo-Saxon Chronicle – dalla quale emerge come fil rouge il concetto di overlordship. Questo è il nome che gli studiosi moderni hanno dato all'autorità che alcuni re anglosassoni poterono esercitare al di sopra degli altri regni dell'isola: si trattava di una supremazia principalmente militare che portava un re, per periodi spesso brevi, ad imporre la propria sovranità – e talvolta dei tributi – a popolazioni diverse dalla propria. Questa idea di sovranità sovrapposta era già presente in Beda e viene recuperata dai cronisti anglosassoni che la ricollegano, in maniera evidente, alla dinastia dei re del Wessex, coniando per quei re che la detennero la parola bretwalda. A conclusione del primo blocco è presente un capitolo di confronto (Cap. 6) che permette di tirare le somme della prima metà della tesi. Si ribadiscono alcuni punti in comune tra i due casi di studio qui definiti "macrocongruenze": sia la Britannia che la Spania erano parte dell'impero romano, ma non di quello carolingio e subirono un'invasione durante l'Alto Medioevo (danesi/norvegesi la prima e islamici la seconda); in entrambi i casi la produzione di cultura scritta durante il IX secolo orbitava attorno alla figura del monarca; le cronache del periodo celebrano la dinastia regnante come elemento cardine della storia "nazionale" e così facendo ne legittimano l'autorità; fra le pagine di queste cronache vengono proposte nuove identità per entrambe le popolazioni. Tuttavia, al di là di queste evidenti somiglianze, si è notato come, all'interno della cronachistica, si sia arrivati a due modi particolari di rappresentare sé stessi, il proprio regno, il proprio popolo e il proprio contesto geografico. Sono queste differenze a suscitare un particolare interesse dal momento che, come è stato chiaro sin dalla sua fase embrionale, in nessun modo lo scopo di questa ricerca è l'omologazione: non si sta cercando di uniformare la storia inglese del IX e X secolo con quella spagnola dello stesso periodo, per quanto esse abbiano sicuramente dei punti in comune. Nel capitolo di confronto si riflette quindi sulle particolari soluzioni autorappresentative soluzioni a cui sono giunti i cronisti asturiani e anglosassoni riguardo a tre punti chiave: il recupero del passato, la concezione territoriale dell'ambiente geografico e la questione identitaria. Non si può infatti trascurare il differente peso che ebbero nei relativi ambiti il ricordo del regno visigoto e quello dell'Eptarchia anglosassone e dunque, rispettivamente, le opere di Isidoro di Siviglia e Beda il Venerabile. Sarebbe inoltre sbagliato non sottolineare le differenze tra le due nuove proposte identitarie: quella inglese su base spiccatamente etnica (Angelcynn) e quella ispanica su base principalmente religiosa (regnum Xristianorum). Non poteva infine mancare un paragrafo dedicato ai differenti rapporti tra i due ambiti studiati e il mondo carolingio contemporaneo. Nel secondo blocco vengono sviscerati i fenomeni imperiali. Il capitolo dedicato all'ambito ispanico (Cap. 7) si apre con una riflessione sulle varie figure di scriptores del regno di León e sul peso avuto dai formulari visigoti nella documentazione altomedievale. Al principio del corrispettivo capitolo inglese (Cap. 8) vengono invece presentati due casi di utilizzo del termine imperiale precedenti il X secolo: quello di sant'Oswald di Northumbria (634-642) nella Vita Sancti Columbae di Adomnano di Iona e quello di Coenwulf di Mercia (796-821) nel documento S153. Seguono due paragrafi dedicati alla documentazione di Edward the Elder (899-924) e Æthelstan (924-939) che mettono in luce un sostanziale sviluppo della titolatura regia, indice di un progressivo ampliamento dell'autorità di questi monarchi. Il centro di entrambi i capitoli del secondo blocco consiste nella dettagliata analisi dei documenti imperiali e nelle riflessioni che da questa scaturiscono. Nel caso spagnolo è possibile affermare con una certa sicurezza che l'uso del titolo imperator ebbe inizio con il figlio, Ordoño II, che lo attribuì al padre per rafforzare la propria posizione di re di León. Tra la morte di Ordoño II (924) e l'ascesa al trono di Ramiro II (931) il titolo cominciò ad essere adoperato anche nella documentazione privata, senza per questo scomparire da quella regia. Non è purtroppo possibile cercare di ricondurre il fenomeno imperiale ispanico alla figura di uno scriptor in particolare – a differenza del caso inglese –; va però fatto presente che alcuni testi risalenti alla seconda metà del secolo differiscono dai documenti di Ordoño II nell'impiego del termine, poiché questo viene usato in riferimento al re vivente, anziché al padre defunto. Il titolo, almeno all'inizio del X secolo, non sembra riflettere un'autorità superiore (per l'appunto imperiale), ma richiama la sua più antica accezione, quella di "generale vittorioso" e costituisce una prerogativa dei sovrani leonesi. Per quanto riguarda il fenomeno imperiale inglese, invece, è possibile individuare un punto di inizio nei famosi alliterative charters, probabilmente redatti da Koenwald di Worcester (928/9- 957), sulla cui paternità si discute lungamente nella tesi. Sembra chiaro che imperator altro non sia che la traduzione latina di quello che gli storici hanno definito overlord. Tramite l'impiego di tale titolo i sovrani anglosassoni hanno voluto rappresentare la loro crescente egemonia sugli altri regni dell'isola, rivendicando così un'autorità più territoriale che etnica. Occorre però far presente che l'uso della terminologia imperiale forma parte di quel più ampio processo di evoluzione della titolatura regia già iniziato con Edward the Elder. Queste riflessioni vengono poi messe in relazione con quelle del primo blocco e sviluppate nelle conclusioni (Cap. 9). Esse vertono su quattro punti fondamentali: l'uso del documento e della lingua latina nei due ambiti; la Britannia e la Spania come universi a sé; il significato di imperator nei due contesti documentari; la concezione territoriale come presupposto teorico e geografico di questo utilizzo. La lettura delle fonti ci permette di affermare che entrambi i contesti rappresentavano per i rispettivi sovrani degli universi idealmente a sé stanti. I sovrani leonesi e anglosassoni ereditarono dai loro predecessori non solo una "missione" politica – di riconquista per i primi e di controllo per i secondi –, ma anche una specifica concezione – diversa per ciascun caso – dell'ambiente geografico in cui si trovavano a operare. La Britannia del re-imperatore anglosassone è la Britannia di Beda, frammentata e divisa, eppure tutto sommato unita. La Spania dei re leonesi è la Spania di Isidoro, unita, omogenea, ma drammaticamente perduta. Tuttavia, per il caso spagnolo e nel periodo qui preso in esame, al titolo non venne mai accostato un riferimento spaziale che rimandasse ad un dominio su tutta la penisola. In quello inglese, invece, tale accostamento ci fu, ma il riferimento geografico alla Britannia non fu un'esclusiva del titolo imperiale. Possiamo quindi dire che, nel caso inglese, il titolo nacque per il bisogno di tradurre in latino un'autorità indiretta ed egemonica (come quella di un rex regum), e perse poi questo significato – e quindi l'uso –, quando la situazione politica del regno si modificò; nel caso spagnolo invece, avvenne un'elaborazione quasi simmetricamente opposta. Il titolo, inizialmente usato nel suo significato più antico di "generale vittorioso" o "signore potente", venne poi reinterpretato quando nell'XI e XII secolo cambiarono gli equilibri politici della penisola. In questo periodo troviamo infatti sovrani come Alfonso VI e Alfonso VII impiegare titolature quali imperator totius Hispaniae. In entrambi i casi, l'imperator venne inteso come sinonimo di rex regum, ma in due momenti diversi: ovvero quando ve ne fu effettivamente bisogno. La tesi è provvista di mappe e della bibliografia, divisa tra fonti e studi. Inoltre si è considerato utile aggiungere in appendice i testi dei documenti imperiali. ; The subject of this thesis is the peculiar presence of the term imperator in a small, but still significant, number of 10th century documents from the reign of Asturia and León and from Britain. The fact that these two "imperial phenomena" coexisted and developed in two very distant contexts, without an apparent connection, makes a comparative study necessary. Also, in both areas the previous century was characterized by a particularly favorable moment for culture - el renacimiento asturiano and the alfredian renaissance - made possible by the action of two monarchs, Alfonso III of Asturia and León (866-910) and Alfred of Wessex (871-899). In these sovereigns' courts, chronicles were drawn up (the Crónicas Asturianas and the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle), proposing an interpretation of history which tend to seek a new identity for the respective peoples, highlighting the central role of the respective ruling dynasties. The aim of the thesis is therefore twofold: on the one hand, to understand in what way and in what sense the term imperator was used in the documentation examined; on the other hand, to estimate what weight the new ethnic, religious and territorial identities had within these imperial phenomena. For a better performance of the argument, it was decided to divide the thesis into two parts, the first dedicated to the chronicles of the 9th century and the second to the documents of the following century in which the imperial title appears. In turn, each part is divided into two chapters focused on Hispanic and Anglo-Saxon cases. The thesis opens with the presentation of the criteria used in the selection of the corpus (Ch. 1), which amounts to a total of 38 imperial documents, of which 20 Asturian-Leonese (private and public) and 18 Anglo-Saxon (exclusively public). The historical context (Ch. 2) and the status quaestionis (Ch. 3) are provided below. The first chapter of the first part (Ch. 4) deals with the three chronicles produced in the Asturian-Leonese court at the end of the 9th century. Also known as Crónicas Asturianas. they are respectively entitled Crónica Albeldense, Crónica Profetica and Crónica de Alfonso III. This chapter starts treating the Asturian library, available to the authors of the chronicles, and follows with the description of each chronicle, focusing on their paternity and dating. It then provides information about the manuscript tradition of each chronicle and it finally ends with an overall reading of the sources. Here, concepts such as identity (ethnic, religious and geographic) are clarified, and we observe the origin of historiographic themes such as those of the Reconquista and neo-Gothicism. These elements constitute the starting point for a reflection aimed at bringing out the ideological background common to all three chronicles. In the corresponding English chapter (Ch. 5) is outlined a profile of the literary production, in particular historiographic, which characterized the last two decades of the 9th century in England. We start by framing the men who formed part in the so-called alfredian reinassance and then analyze the role played in this moment of cultural rebirth by the translations in Old English of the great historiographic works. Finally, we propose a rereading of the only historiographic work written ex novo, the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, where the concept of overlordship emerges as a common thread. Overlordship is the name that modern scholars have given to the authority that some Anglo-Saxon kings were able to exercise over other kings in the island. It is a predominantly military supremacy which leads a king, for often short periods, to impose his sovereignty - and sometimes tributes - on populations other than his own. This idea of overlapped sovereignty was already present in Beda and is recovered by the Anglo-Saxon chroniclers who relate it, explicity, to the dynasty of the kings of Wessex, coining for those kings who held it the term bretwalda. At the end of the first part there is a comparison chapter (Ch. 6) that draws the conclusions of the first half of the thesis. Some points in common (here called "macrocongruenze") between the two case studies are reiterated: both Britain and Spania formed part of the Roman Empire, but not of the Carolingian Empire and both suffered an invasion during the Early Middle Ages (Danes / Norwegians and Muslims); in both cases the production of written culture, during the 9th century, orbited around the figure of the monarch; the chronicles celebrate the reigning dynasty as the centre of "national" history to legitimize its authority; among the pages of these chronicles new identities are proposed for both populations. However, beyond these obvious similarities, it has been noted that the chronicles adopted two different ways of self-representing themselves, their kingdom, their people and their geographical context. The comparison chapter therefore reflects on three key points: the recovery of the past, the territorial conception of the geographical environment and the identity issue. In fact, we cannot neglect the different importance that the memory of the Visigoth kingdom and of the Anglo-Saxon Heptarchy (and therefore, respectively, the works of Isidore of Seville and the Venerable Bede) had. It would also be wrong not to underline the differences between the two new identity proposals: the English one had a distinctly ethnic base (Angelcynn), while the Hispanic base was mainly religious base (regnum Xristianorum). The last paragraph if finally dedicated to the different relationships between the two areas studied and the contemporary Carolingian world could not be missing. In the second block imperial phenomena are examined. The chapter dedicated to the Hispanic context (Ch. 7) opens with a reflection on the various figures of scriptores of the kingdom of León and on the weight of Visigoth formulae in the early medieval documentation. At the beginning of the corresponding English chapter (Ch. 8) are presented two cases of a use of the imperial term preceding the 10th century: that of Saint Oswald of Northumbria (634-642) in the Adomnan of Hy's Vita Sancti Columbae of and that of Coenwulf of Mercia in the charter S153. These cases are followed by two paragraphs dedicated to Edward the Elder's and Æthelstan's documentation, which highlight a substantial development of the royal title, pointing out an expansion of the authority of these monarchs. The center of both the chapters of the second block consists in the detailed analysis of the imperial documents and in the reflections that arise from it. In the Spanish case, it is possible to affirm with some certainty that the use of the imperator title began with his son, Ordoño II, who attributed it to his father to strengthen his position as king of León. Between the death of Ordoño II (924) and the ascent to the throne of Ramiro II (931), the title also began to be employed into private documentation, without disappearing in the public one. Unfortunately, it is not possible, as it is in the English case, to trace the Hispanic imperial phenomenon back to a particular scriptor. However, it should be noted that some texts dating from the second half of the century differ from the charters of Ordoño II in the use of the term, adopting it in reference to the living king, rather than the deceased father. The title, at least at the beginning of the tenth century, does not seem to reflect a superior (or imperial) authority, but recalls its most ancient meaning, of "victorious general" and constitutes a prerogative of the Leonese sovereigns. As for the English imperial phenomenon, however, it is possible to identify a starting point in the famous alliterative charters, probably drawn up by Koenwald of Worcester (928/9- 957), whose authorship is largely discussed in the thesis. It seems clear that imperator is nothing but the Latin translation of what historians have called overlord. Through the use of this title, the Anglo-Saxon rulers wanted to represent their growing hegemony over the other kingdoms of the island, thus claiming a more territorial than ethnic authority. However, it should be noted that the use of imperial terminology forms part of the broader process of evolution of the royal title that started with Edward the Elder. These reflections are then related to those of the first part and developed in the conclusions (Ch. 9). They focus on four fundamental points: the use of the documentation and the Latin language in the two areas; Britain and Spania as self-contained universes; the meaning of imperator in the two documentary contexts; the territorial conception as a theoretical and geographical assumption of this use. Reading the sources allows us to affirm that both contexts represented universes ideally self-contained for their respective sovereigns. The Leonese and Anglo-Saxon rulers inherited from their predecessors not only a political "mission" - reconquering for the former and control for the latter -, but also a specific conception - different for each case - of the geographical environment in which they found themselves operate. The Britannia of the Anglo-Saxon king-emperor is Bede's Britannia, fragmented and divided, but spiritually united. The Spania of the Leonese kings is Isidoro's Spania, united, homogeneous, but dramatically lost. However, for the Spanish case in the period examined here, the imperial title was never related to a geographical reference; in the English one, the geographical reference to Britannia existed, but was not exclusive to the imperial title. We can therefore say that, in the English case, the title was born out of the need to translate into Latin an indirect and hegemonic authority (like that of a rex regum), and then lost this meaning - and therefore the use - when the political situation of the kingdom changed. In the Spanish case, conversely, an almost symmetrically opposite processing took place. The title, initially used in its oldest meaning as "victorious general" or "powerful lord", was reinterpreted in the 11th and 12th centuries, when the political balance of the peninsula changed. In this period, we find in fact rulers like Alfonso VI and Alfonso VII employing titles such as imperator totius Hispaniae. In both cases, the emperor was intended as a synonym for rex regum, but in two different moments - always when it was more needed. The thesis is equipped with maps and bibliography, divided between sources and studies. Furthermore, it was considered useful to add a final appendix with the texts of the imperial documents. ; El tema de esta tesis es la aparición peculiar del término imperator en un número pequeño, pero significativo, de documentos del siglo X procedentes de los reinos de Asturias y León y de Inglaterra. Si en sí mismo este tipo de "coincidencia histórica" capta la atención, el hecho de que los dos fenómenos imperiales sean prácticamente contemporáneos y se desarrollen en dos contextos muy distantes en el espacio, sin una conexión aparente, pone de manifiesto la necesidad de un estudio comparativo. Tras una ulterior búsqueda, no pasa desapercibido cómo, en ambas áreas, el siglo inmediatamente anterior se caracterizó por ser un momento particularmente favorable para la cultura – el renacimiento asturiano y the alfredian reinassence –, hecho posible por la acción de dos monarcas, Alfonso III de Asturias y León (866-910) y Alfred de Wessex (871-899). En los entornos de estos soberanos, se elaboraron crónicas (las Crónicas Asturianas y la Anglo-Saxon Chronicle) que proponían una lectura de la historia destinada a buscar una nueva identidad para los respectivos pueblos, subrayando el papel central de las respectivas dinastías gobernantes. El objetivo de la tesis es, por lo tanto, doble: por un lado, se quiere entender de qué manera y en qué sentido se utilizó el término imperator en la documentación examinada y, por otro lado, tratamos de comprender qué peso tenían las nuevas identidades étnicas, religiosas y territoriales, dentro de estos fenómenos imperiales. Para una mejor presentación de los argumentos, se decidió dividir la tesis en dos bloques: el primero dedicado a las crónicas del siglo IX y el segundo a los documentos del siglo siguiente en los que aparece el título imperial. A su vez, cada bloque se divide en dos capítulos donde se desarrollan las temáticas en los casos hispanos y anglosajones. La tesis comienza con la presentación de los criterios utilizados para la selección del corpus de "documentos imperiales" (Capítulo 1) – los diplomas donde aparece el título de imperator –, que asciende a un total de treinta y ocho, veinte de los cuales son asturianos-leoneses (privados y públicos) y dieciocho anglosajones (exclusivamente públicos). El contexto histórico (Capítulo 2) y el status quaestionis (Capítulo 3) se proporcionan a continuación. En el primer capítulo del primer bloque (Capítulo 4) se presentan las tres crónicas producidas en la corte asturiano-leonesa a finales del siglo IX. También conocidas como Crónicas Asturianas, estas son la Crónica Albeldense, la Crónica Profética y la Crónica de Alfonso III. Para conseguir una visión lo más completa posible, comenzamos viendo los libros que los autores de las crónicas tenían a su disposición. A continuación, se analizan las tres obras, con una particular atención a su autoría y datación. Finalmente, proporcionamos indicaciones sobre la tradición manuscrita de estas crónicas y trazamos un camino entre las fuentes. En esta parte se van perfilando cuestiones cruciales, como la identidad (étnica, religiosa y geográfica), y temas historiográficos, como la Reconquista y el neogoticismo. Estos elementos constituyen el punto de partida para un razonamiento destinado a resaltar el trasfondo ideológico común a las tres crónicas. En el capítulo sucesivo (Capítulo 5) se traza un perfil de la producción literaria, en particular historiográfica, que caracterizó las últimas dos décadas del siglo IX anglosajón. Se comienza enmarcando a los hombres que formaron parte del llamado alfredian reinassance y analizando sucesivamente el papel desempeñado por las traducciones en Old English de las grandes obras historiográficas en este momento de renacimiento cultural. Finalmente, proponemos una nueva lectura de la única obra historiográfica escrita desde cero, la Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, a partir de la cual el concepto de overlordship emerge como un hilo conductor. Este es el nombre que los eruditos modernos le han dado a la autoridad que algunos reyes anglosajones pudieron ejercer sobre los otros reyes de la isla. Es una supremacía predominantemente militar que lleva a un rey – a menudo por períodos cortos – a imponer su soberanía, y a veces tributos, a poblaciones distintas de la suya. Esta idea de soberanía superpuesta ya estaba presente en Beda y es recuperada por los cronistas anglosajones que la relacionan, evidentemente, con la dinastía de los reyes de Wessex, acuñando para aquellos reyes la palabra bretwalda. Al final del primer bloque hay un capítulo de comparación (Capítulo 6) que permite resumir las conclusiones de la primera mitad de la tesis. Se reiteran algunos puntos en común entre los dos estudios del caso: tanto Britannia como Spania formaron parte del Imperio Romano, pero no del Imperio Carolingio y sufrieron una invasión durante la Alta Edad Media (Daneses / Noruegos e islámicos); en ambos casos, la producción de cultura escrita durante el siglo IX orbitaba alrededor de la figura del monarca. Las crónicas resultantes de este período celebran la dinastía reinante como la piedra angular de la historia "nacional" y al hacerlo legitiman su autoridad; entre las páginas de estas crónicas se proponen nuevas identidades para ambas poblaciones. Sin embargo, más allá de estas similitudes obvias, se ha observado que dentro de las crónicas ha habido dos formas particulares de representación de sí mismos, de su reino, de su gente y de su contexto geográfico. Son estas diferencias las que despiertan un interés particular, ya que, como ha quedado claro desde el principio, no hay absolutamente ningún intento de homologar la historia inglesa de los siglos IX y X con la historia española del mismo período, aunque sin duda tienen puntos en común. Por lo tanto, el capítulo de comparación reflexiona sobre las particulares formas de auto-representación proporcionadas por los cronistas asturianos y anglosajones y se centra en tres puntos clave: la recuperación del pasado, la concepción territorial del entorno geográfico y la cuestión relativa a la identidad. De hecho, no podemos descuidar el peso diferente que tuvo el recuerdo del reino visigodo y el de la Heptarquía anglosajona y, por lo tanto, respectivamente, las obras de Isidoro de Sevilla y de Beda la Venerable. También sería un error no subrayar las diferencias entre las dos nuevas propuestas de identidad: la inglesa, con una base claramente étnica (Angelcynn) y la hispana, con una base principalmente religiosa (regnum Xristianorum). Finalmente, no podía faltar un párrafo dedicado a las diferentes relaciones entre las dos áreas estudiadas y el mundo carolingio contemporáneo. En el segundo bloque se examinan los fenómenos imperiales. El capítulo dedicado al contexto hispano (Capítulo 7) comienza con una reflexión sobre las diversas figuras de los scriptores del reino de León y sobre el peso de las fórmulas visigodas en la documentación altomedieval. Al comienzo del capítulo correspondiente en inglés (Capítulo 8) se presentan dos casos de uso del término imperial anterior al siglo X: el de San Oswald de Northumbria (634-642) en la Vita Sancti Columbae de Adomnano de Iona y el de Coenwulf de Mercia (796-821) en el documento S153. Siguen dos párrafos dedicados a la documentación de Edward the Elder (899-924) y Æthelstan (924-939), donde se destaca un desarrollo sustancial del título real que indica una expansión de la autoridad insular de estos monarcas. El centro de ambos capítulos del segundo bloque consiste en el análisis detallado de los documentos imperiales y en las reflexiones que surgen de esto. En el caso español se puede concluir que, aunque hay rastros de un empleo del título imperial en la documentación de Alfonso III, es posible afirmar con cierta certeza que el uso del título imperator comenzó con su hijo, Ordoño II (914-924), quien lo atribuyó a su padre para fortalecer su posición como rey de León. Entre la muerte de Ordoño II (924) y el ascenso al trono de Ramiro II (931), el título también pasó a la documentación privada, sin desaparecer de la pública. Desafortunadamente, no es posible, como en el caso inglés, tratar de rastrear el fenómeno imperial hispano hasta la figura de un escritor en particular. Sin embargo, debe tenerse en cuenta que algunos textos que datan de la segunda mitad del siglo difieren de los documentos de Ordoño II en el uso del término, ya que se emplea en referencia al rey vivo y no al padre fallecido. El título, al menos a principios del siglo X, no parece reflejar una autoridad superior (precisamente imperial), pero recuerda su significado más antiguo, el de "general victorioso" y constituye una prerrogativa de los soberanos leoneses. En cuanto al fenómeno imperial inglés, por otro lado, es posible identificar un punto de partida en los famosos alliterative charters, probablemente producidos por Koenwald de Worcester (928/9- 957), cuya autoría se discute extensamente en la tesis. Parece que imperator no es más que la traducción latina de lo que los historiadores han llamado overlord. Mediante el uso de este título, los gobernantes anglosajones querían representar su creciente hegemonía sobre los otros reinos de la isla, reclamando así una autoridad más territorial que étnica. Sin embargo, debe tenerse en cuenta que el uso de la terminología imperial forma parte de ese proceso más amplio de evolución del título real que ya comenzó con Edward the Elder. En las conclusiones (Capítulo 9) se relacionan estas reflexiones con las del primer bloque desarrollándolas. Se centran en cuatro puntos fundamentales: el papel del documento y del idioma latino en las dos áreas; Britannia y Spania como universos en sí mismos; el significado de imperator en los dos contextos documentales y, por último, la concepción territorial como una premisa teórica y geográfica de este empleo de la terminología imperial. Tras leer las fuentes podemos afirmar que ambos contextos representaban, a los ojos de sus respectivos soberanos, universos dentro del universo. Los gobernantes leoneses y anglosajones heredaron de sus predecesores no solo una "misión" política – de reconquista para los primeros y de control para los segundos – sino también una concepción específica, diferente para cada caso, del entorno geográfico en el que se encontraban. La Britannia del rey-emperador anglosajón es la Britannia de Beda, fragmentada, dividida y, sin embargo, unida. La Spania de los reyes leoneses es la Spania de Isidoro, unida, homogénea, pero dramáticamente perdida. Sin embargo, para el caso español, en el período examinado aquí, nunca se encuentra el título imperial en relación a una referencia territorial que evoque un dominio sobre toda la península. En el inglés, sin embargo, existía este uso, pero la referencia geográfica a Britannia no era exclusiva del título imperial. Por lo tanto, podemos decir que, en el caso inglés, el título nació de la necesidad de traducir al latín una autoridad indirecta y hegemónica (como la de un rex regum), y luego perdió este significado – y su uso – cuando la situación política del reino cambió. En el caso español, sin embargo, tuvo lugar un procesamiento casi simétricamente opuesto. El título, utilizado inicialmente en su significado más antiguo como "general victorioso" o "señor poderoso", fue reinterpretado más tarde cuando el equilibrio político de la península cambió en los siglos XI y XII. En este período encontramos, de hecho, gobernantes como Alfonso VI y Alfonso VII que emplean títulos como imperator totius Hispaniae. En ambos casos, imperator fue concebido como sinónimo de rex regum, pero en dos momentos diferentes; cuando realmente se necesitaba. La tesis está provista de mapas y bibliografía, dividida entre fuentes y estudios. Además, se consideró útil agregar los textos de los documentos imperiales al apéndice.

From the nostalgia of the Promised Land to the nostalgia of the exile land of the Moroccan Israelites The disappearance of the Jews in Morocco, noticed after the fact, gave rise to a great deal of questioning: were the motives behind this phenomenon mystical or Zionist in nature? Or were they the result of persecution? In the Morocco of the 1980's, the mellah showed the only remnants of the civilization, the testament of a bygone existence. Both recent and distant past in the memories of those living alongside the Jews. In pre-Protectorate Morocco, the Judeo-Arabic coexistence gave way to socio-economic organization that can ultimately be called interdependence. Economically speaking, the Jewish existence was seen as necessary for the Muslim society. It was the result of a coexistence, varying according to the era in question and the reigning symbiosis and hostility. Trades a Muslim could not or did not wish to take on were left to the Jews, from import-export trade to peddling. This division of work, perceived as both discrimination and allocation, is representative of the ambiguity of the Judeo-Arabic relation. This ambiguity disturbs the work of researchers in the field. If Jews were merely tolerated, subject to their discriminatory status, so be it, but their presence was still generally seen as necessary by the Muslim. By the same token, the Jews' political substatus in Muslim society represented a permanent strength against assimilation, and the preservation of an ancestral link with the homeland. The mellah, symbolizing exclusion, also allowed the Jewish community to be a homogenous social, political, economical and cultural group, a micro-society whose religious identity was constant and rigorous growth, through a series of rituals and practices. Tradition kept identity alive: the Jewish identity, alive in a single prayer to return to Holy Land. The fragile Judeo-Arabic equilibrium, little-known by those who dreamt of colonizing North Africa (beginning in the 19th century), was upset by the French Protectorate of Morocco (1912-1956). With its colonialist ideology, the latter imposes a policy that widened the gap between Jews and Muslims, exacerbating their religious differences and affecting their relations. The Protectorate Morocco had a rude awakening to a number of outside influences -the invasion of European capitalism, administrative reforms and modernism- causing rapid destruction of traditional values. The population grew poorer in their inability to maintain the furious pace of this revolution, while the Muslim intellectual youth, deprived of its traditional privileges, took up the struggle against the foreign stranglehold on its country. The spare of early nationalism driven by the Protectorate's so-called Berber politics, whose project was to distinguish between Berbers and Moroccans through possible conversion to Catholicism and the French language. The anticolonialist struggle found its way in a growing Islamic identity which attracted the masses and united Moroccan leaders behind the struggles of North Africa. In the Jewish community, the effect of the Protectorate is more significant. The westernization process attracts an elite aspiring to rise to the European level using the French language and culture, and wishing to legitimately free itself from the demeaning dhimma status. A long way from the parent population whose fate is the same as the Muslims, privileged individuals of the Jewish community distance themselves both from the religious tradition of the Jewish identity as well as the age-old Judeo-Arabic rituals. This distinction manifests itself in education and travel, or simply moving away. The new class of Europeanized Jews abandons the use of the vernacular for French and leaves the mellah to the poor, the uneducated, and the destitute. The tensions between Jews and Arabs in Palestine, intensified by the Balfour Declaration (1917), also feed the Muslim-Arabic identity whose followers include Muslim nationalists. This option distances the Jewish community from the political scene and thus future Moroccan perspectives. While the Muslim mass is won through this struggle, the Jewish mass continues, away from the political upheavals shaking the Arabic world, to dream of the Promised Land and nurture a sense of nostalgia. This nostalgia is fulfilled with the declaration of the State of Israel in 1948, thus launching the Moroccan 'aliya. Exile was the great memory, the mystical nostalgia, wandering and danger, uprooting and spiritual affirmation. Moroccan roots were merely of convenience despite lasting so many generations, though Moroccan Jews had buried there their forefathers, created shared ways and customs, tended to their cherished cemeteries, developed their languages. and nonetheless Morocco spiritually had only ever been a temporary home, a land of transition, a lesser evil in adversity? Once the wandering and danger over, what of this Promised Land? Did some nourishment, for the mind and body, heart and soul, rise from this new breeding ground where the long awaited and conflicted resettlement occurred? The components of the plural memory have come together in the great gathering: places, values and manners, feelings, social perceptions, exposing to all the divide, the diversity and marks of exile, showing the socio-theologico-political disparities. Disparities that Zionism, in its hope for Jewish unity, planned to standardize and smooth into unity. A project impossible without the cultural uprooting and the identity crisis of North Africans. Taken to Israel beginning in 1948, Moroccan Jews met with a Western model established by the pioneers of European socialism: the Ashkenazi. Very early, the Israeli population was divided into two groups; the Ashkenazi, founders of the country they lead, and their recently immigrated coreligionists: the North Africans, who, for the first twenty years of their lives in Israel, would be members of the proletariat. The messianic ideal motivating the Moroccan 'alya confronted the secular conception of the Israeli state. This conception involves the rejection of the Diaspora heritage and the Exile of the Jews in favour of a new "normal" nation in the image of developed Western societies. The secular State based on legitimate representation of the Jewish people, replaces religious identification with a state identification or nationalism, a status unknown to Moroccan immigrants barely removed from their secular status as traditional religious minority. To the Judaism by choice succeeds Judaism by nature and community organization becomes a complex state organization closed to new citizens. For new Moroccan immigrants, the Jewish identity should suffice for integration into the Promised Land, but once arrived, the reality of significant differences regarding religious practice, language, rituals, tradition, and economic differences caused disillusion of the sacred dream: "In Morocco, he was Jewish, Jewish through the heritage of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, Jewish tangled in the holy and sacred Law of Moses. (.) In Israel, he became -what a turn of events!- Arabic." Out of this disillusion arose nostalgia, nostalgia for the first nostalgia, nostalgia for the exile that some authors (Ami Bouganim, Erez Bitton) would continue to sing: "She sings the exile, a nostalgic tone in the voice, the exile from Jerusalem, the exile from Spain, the exile from Morocco. (.) She sings a Spanish serenade then a French song, an Arabic threnody then a hymn in Hebrew. (.) Without end, Zohra's songs recreate the fabulous scenery of her past." Recreate the scenery of one's past to struggle against the oblivion of the deads and the depersonalization of the livings. Recalling an identity lost in a process of assimilation imposing the oblivion of the Jewish Diaspora and the rebirth of Modern Hebrew. Memory finds its place once again: recreating an identity and a culture parallel to the national Israeli identity and culture. And this reconstitution is first reactivated through maternal memory, a domestic memory constituting ancestral rituals, smell of cooking, laughters, household tasks, games, festive music, superstitions and rumours, jokes in local dialect. folkloric memories. Because the mother is the character who embodies tradition, who has been the least touched by the maelstrom of the 'alya. It is in the literary expression of Moroccan Israelites that we see this nostalgia, through characters who do not feel they are part of a coherent Israeli entity. The language, the culture and the mentality exacerbate these differences, and allow their particularism take its course. Even though it is an historical fact, the creation of the Israeli society underwent the rules of immigration. More than elsewhere, the Israeli terrain is best suited for a review of immigration issues: integration, acculturation, ethnic mix, as a hypothesis of the future of societies in the growing globalization of our world. ; De la nostalgie de la terre promise à la nostalgie de la terre d'exil chez les Israéliens originaires du Maroc La disparition, constatée après coup, des Juifs du Maroc suscita bien des interrogations : les motivations de cette envolée étaient-elles de nature mystique ou sioniste ? Ou la conséquence de persécution ? Dans le Maroc des années 80, le mellah seul en montrait les vestiges et témoignait d'une existence révolue. Un passé proche et lointain gisant dans les mémoires de ceux pour qui le Juif fut du voisinage. Dans le Maroc d'avant le Protectorat, la coexistence judéo-arabe donnait lieu à une organisation socio-économique que l'on peut, malgré tout, qualifier d'interdépendance. L'existence juive en société musulmane était reconnue nécessaire au plan économique. Il en découlait une coexistence dont la nature variait selon les périodes et les règnes entre symbiose et hostilité. Les corps de métiers qu'un musulman ne pouvait ou ne voulait faire étaient laissés aux Juifs depuis l'import-export jusqu'au commerce itinérant. Ce partage de fonction qui est perçu à la fois comme une discrimination et une répartition, comporte en soi l'ambiguïté du rapport juif-arabe. Cette ambiguïté embarrasse le travail du chercheur dans ce domaine. Que le Juif ne fut que toléré, soumis au statut discriminatoire, soit, il n'en demeure pas moins que sa présence était généralement reconnue nécessaire par le Musulman. Parallèlement, le sous-statut politique du Juif dans la société musulmane lui était une force permanente contre l'assimilation et pour le maintien d'un lien ancestral avec la terre antique. Le mellah qui symbolisait l'exclusion, permettait aussi à la communauté juive d'être un groupe social, politique, économique et culturel homogène, une micro-société dont l'identité religieuse se cultivait continuellement et rigoureusement en un ensemble de rites et de pratiques. La tradition véhiculait l'identité ; celle d'être juif, animée par une seule prière celle de retrouver la Terre Sainte. Le fragile équilibre judéo-arabe, méconnu par ceux qui rêvent de coloniser l'Afrique du Nord (à partir du 19ème siècle), se déstabilise avec le Protectorat français (1912-1956) au Maroc. Par son idéologie colonialiste, ce dernier avance une politique éloignant encore plus les Juifs des Musulmans en exacerbant leurs différences religieuses et en affectant leurs rapports. Le Maroc du Protectorat s'ouvre brutalement aux influences extérieures : invasion du capitalisme européen, réformes administratives et modernisme, causent une destruction accélérée des valeurs traditionnelles. La masse populaire s'appauvrit, faute de pouvoir suivre le rythme effréné de cette révolution, tandis que la jeunesse intellectuelle musulmane, privée de ses privilèges traditionnels, élabore des formes de lutte contre la mainmise étrangère sur son pays. La flamme naissante du nationalisme est attisée par la politique dite --berbère-- du Protectorat, dont le projet est de distinguer les berbères du peuple marocain par une possible conversion française et catholique. La lutte anti-coloniale trouve alors sa voie dans une identité islamique accrue qui attire les masses et rallie les leaders marocains aux luttes d'Orient. Dans la communauté juive, l'effet du Protectorat est plus conséquent. Le processus d'occidentalisation attire une élite qui aspire à s'élever au niveau des Européens par le moyen de la langue et de la culture française, et veut légitimement s'affranchir du statut réducteur de la dhimma. Loin de la population de base qui subit le même sort que les musulmans, les privilégiés de la communauté juive s'écartent à la fois de la tradition religieuse véhiculant l'identité juive et des coutumes judéo-arabes séculaires. Cette distinction se traduit par l'instruction et l'éloignement géographique. La nouvelle classe juive européanisée abandonne l'usage de la langue vernaculaire au profit du français et laisse le mellah aux pauvres, non instruits, démunis. Les tensions entre Juifs et Arabes en Palestine, affûtées par la Déclaration de Balfour (1917), alimentent, par effet sympathique, l'identité arabo-musulmane à laquelle s'identifient et adhèrent les nationalistes musulmans. Cette option éloigne la communauté juive de la scène politique et donc des perspectives marocaines d'avenir. Tandis que la masse musulmane est gagnée au combat, la masse juive continue, à l'écart des bouleversements politiques qui secouent le monde arabe, à rêver de la terre Promise et en cultiver la nostalgie. Nostalgie qui trouve son accomplissement à la déclaration de l'Etat d'Israël en 1948 et commence alors la 'aliya marocaine. L'exil c'était la grande mémoire, la nostalgie mystique, l'errance et la précarité, le déracinement et l'affirmation du spirituel. L'ancrage marocain ne fut que de circonstance quand bien même il perdura tant et tant de générations, quand bien même les Juifs du Maroc y ont enterré la cohorte de leurs aïeux, créé des us et coutumes partagés, entretenus leurs chers cimetières, forgé leurs langues.et néanmoins le Maroc ne fut, spirituellement, qu'une terre d'attente, un lieu transitoire, un moindre mal dans l'adversité ? Errance et précarité ne sont plus, mais qu'en-est-il de cette terre promise ? Une sève nourricière pour le corps et l'esprit, l'âme et le cœur, a-t-elle monté dans ce nouveau terreau où s'est accompli le réenracinement si longtemps différé ? Dans le grand rassemblement se sont affrontées les composantes de la mémoire plurielle : lieux, mœurs, sentiments, perceptions sociétales, dénonçant au grand jour les lignes de partage, les diversités et les empreintes d'exils, faisant apparaître les disparités socio-théologico-politiques. Disparité que le sionisme, dans son aspiration à l'unité du peuple juif, projetait d'uniformiser et de dissoudre dans l'unicité. Projet qui ne parvint pas sans éviter aux Orientaux le déracinement culturel et la crise d'identité. Envolés vers Israël à partir de 1948, les Juifs marocains rencontrent un modèle occidental établi par les pionniers issus du socialisme européen : les Ashkénazes. Très tôt, la population israélienne est divisée en deux classes ; les Ashkénazes, fondateurs du pays dont ils sont l'élite dirigeante, et leurs coreligionnaires récemment immigrés : les Orientaux, qui durant les vingt premières années de leurs vie israélienne en constitueront le prolétariat. L'idéal messianique qui motivait la 'alya marocaine se heurte à la conception laïque de l'état israélien. Conception qui implique le rejet de l'héritage diasporique et du Juif de l'exil pour une nouvelle nation "normale" à l'image des sociétés occidentales évoluées. L'état, laïque, basé sur une représentation légitime du peuple juif, remplace l'identification religieuse par une identification nationale, statut inconnu des immigrants marocains à peine coupés de leur statut séculaire de minorité religieuse traditionnelle. Au judaïsme de condition succède un judaïsme d'élection et à l'organisation communautaire une organisation étatique complexe et hermétique aux nouveaux citoyens. Aux yeux des immigrés marocains, l'identité juive devait suffire à les intégrer en terre promise, mais une fois là, la mise en présence de différences notables concernant la pratique religieuse, la langue, les coutumes, la tradition, les disparités économiques, produisirent la désillusion du rêve sacré confronté à la réalité concrète : "Au Maroc, il était juif, juif de par l'héritage d'Abraham, d'Isaac et de Jacob, juif empêtré dans la sainte et sacré Loi de Moïse. (.) En Israël, il est devenu --ô farce du destin !- arabe". De cette désillusion naquit la nostalgie, nostalgie de la nostalgie première, nostalgie de l'exil que certains auteurs (Ami Bouganim, Erez Bitton) chanteront sans cesse : "Elle chante l'exil, un embrun nostalgique autour de la voix, l'exil de Jérusalem, l'exil d'Espagne, l'exil du Maroc. (.) Elle passe d'une sérénade en espagnole à une chanson en français, d'une mélopée en arabe à un cantique en hébreu. (.)Sans cesse, les chants de Zohra reconstituent les décors fabuleux de son passé." Reconstituer les décors du passé pour lutter contre l'oubli des morts et la dépersonnalisation des vivants. Retrouver une identité perdue au cours d'un processus d'assimilation qui imposait l'oubli du Juif de la diaspora et la renaissance de l'Hébreu moderne. Ainsi la mémoire retrouve son rôle ; celui de reconstituer une identité et une culture parallèle à l'identité et à la culture nationale israélienne. Et c'est par la mémoire maternelle d'abord que se réactive cette reconstitution, une mémoire domestique faite de coutumes ancestrales, d'odeur de cuisine, de rires, de petits devoirs, de jeu, de musique festives, de superstition et de rumeurs, de blagues en parler local.mémoire folklorique. Car la mère est le personnage de la tradition que le maelström de la 'alya a corrodé le moins. C'est dans l'expression littéraire d'Israéliens issus du Maroc que pointe cette nostalgie avec des personnages qui ne se sentent pas dans une entité israélienne cohérente. Le parler, la culture, la mentalité exacerbent leurs différences et laissent agir leur particularisme. Bien que ce soit une particularité historique, la formation de la société israélienne a subi les règles de l'immigration. Plus qu'ailleurs, le terrain israélien est celui qui, le mieux, se prête à l'examen des problèmes posés par l'immigration : intégration, acculturation, mélange ethnique, en tant qu'hypothèse du devenir des sociétés dans la mondialisation.

Issue 58.1 of the Review for Religious, January/February 1999. ; fo r relg io iu s, Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living jANUARY-FEBRUARY 1999 ¯ VOLUME 58 ¯ NUMBER 1 Review for Religious is a forum for shared reflection on the lived experience of all who find that the church's rich heritages of spirituality support their personal and apostolic Christian lives. The articles in the journal are meant to be inforntative, practical, bistorical,'or inspirational, written from a theological or spt~itual or sometimes canonical point of view. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis Universi~, by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ° Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: foppema@slu.edu Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP P.O. Box 29260; \,Vashington, D.C. 20017 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©1999 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library, clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Jean Read James and Joan Felling Kathryn Richards FSP Joel Rippinger OSB Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla SJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC .Chrfisfian Heritages and Contemporary Lfiv~ng JANUARY-FEBRUARY 199~ * VOLUME 58 ¯ NUMBER 1 contents 6 28 perspective. Apostles and Martyrs: Consecrated Life at the Bishops' Synod for Asia John Mansford Prior SVD presents the challenge of the 1998 Synod for Asia to enter into a threefold dialogue--with religions, cultures, and the marginalized. Catholic Guides in Dialogue with Buddhist Practice Paul Bernadicou SJ reviews the progress of Catholic writers in their efforts to provide a fruitful exchange between Christianity and Buddhism. 35 42 traditions Lithuanian and American Sisters: A Lively Interactive Dance Barbara Valuckas SSND describes some of the similarities and differences in the issues facing women religious in the West and in Lithuania. Serpents and Doves: The Company of St. Ursula Ann White draws our attention to the pioneering Ursuline Marie Guyart (Blessed Marie of the Incarnation) living out the vision and spirit of the foundress, St. Angela Merici, to combine the secular and sacred, the worldly and the religious. spirituality 48 The Art of Discernment: The Aesthetic Dimension Xavier Plissart MAfr explains that a basic and essential quality of disce~:nment is that it should strive to be as common as possible in its insight and process, and as universal as possible in the aim toward action. Review for Religious 61 The Still Point: Contemplation Kathy Dunne RC shares her experience and her insights into the unitive way, a way not isolated in prayer, but intimately connected with the dance between the contemplative and apostolic life. 68 82 .aging Caring for Our Own: Competent, Personal Long-term Care in a Faith Perspective Imelda Maurer CDP pictures how life in long-term care looks for some communities of women religious and the witness that is given to the human values that our faith provides. What Is My Mission in Retirement? Francis Blouin FIC clarifies the call of service especially for those who no longer serve in active ministry. 86 report Scrupulosity: Age-old Problem, Holistic Response Paul Duckro, C. Alex Pollard, and Jason Williams describe a synergistic collaboration between behavioral science and religious faith for finding an effective response to the problem of scrupulosity. departments 4 Prisms 98 Canonical Counsel: Living the Evangelical Counsels 103 Book Reviews Janualy-l.¥brllaty 1999 Many of us are familiar with the late Henri Nouwen's Return of the Prodigal Son--a book in which Nouwen reflects on the Gospel story and Rembrandt's painting of the same title displayed in the Hermitage musuem in Saint Petersburg in Russia. Some years after writing the book, Nouwen died while he was on a journey to Russia to participate in a television fea-ture dealing with the painting and his book. Nouwen's fascination with Rembrandt's painting of the famous Lucan parable makes a special appeal to us all in the year 1999. As we continue to follow the direc-tions of Pope John Paul's apostolic letter "As the Third Millennium Draws Near," we know that the year 1999 is dedicated to seeing things "in the perspective of Christ: in the perspective Of the 'Father who is in heaven'" (§49; Mt 5: 45). Just as the previous two years were dedicated respectively to Jesus Christ and to the Holy Spirit, so this final year preparatory to the new millennium is focused particul.arly upon God--the One Jesus calls Abba-Father. A dynamic is uniquely associated with this third year of preparation. It is the journey motif. We are to pay special attention to the fact that we human beings are '.'on the journey to the house of the Father." The God we come to know on our journeying is not just a good God but a God of forgiving love, a compassionate God. Following an allusion made by the pope, w.e might iden-tify the year 1999 as the year of the parable of the prodi-gal. Like the prodigal, we all are on the road leading home. Like the prodigal, we may have a mix of feelings about the life choices we have made and the values we Review for Religqous. have lived. Like the prodigal, in the midst of evaluating our life we sometimes find ourselves needing to throw ourselves on God's mercy--and ready to do so. In one way or another, then, we tend to find ourselves on the road with the prodigal, similar in our rue-ful disquiet about past failings and in our modest plans for a fresh start. Most important, though, is our coming to the ever new and deepening understanding of the reality of God's relationship with us--the One who keeps watching for us whenever our approach, the One who hastens to embrace us into the family. Demanding as the actual journeying of our life may be, our attention should be fixed primarily on the journey of our heart. The heart needs to be quiet and hear the questions: Where are we now in our journey? Is life for us Christians lived truly as a pilgrimage--a journey with a direction? How have we come to know God in our adult years? Is God the one we experience as so compassionate to us that we feel the pull to address God with Jesus' intimacy-of-love word Abba? Most commonly, pilgrimage evokes a picturing of a group mov-ing onward together. So, too, in our pilgrimage we are not alone. Our Christian community in all its various forms--family, parish, sodality, religious congregation--makes real that it is a "we" jour-neying together to the Father. The call to a new evangelization summons us, already known in Pauline times as a people of "The Way," to be welcoming to a humanity searching for the way. Pilgrims are known to tell stories as in Chaucer's Canterbury Tales, and pilgrims are known to sing songs as the psalms so often describe. As we continue our journeying in 1999, we need to tell one another our own parables of a pilgrimage home. Together we sing songs of praise to the Father "who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing'I (Ep 1:3-4). The year 1999 can be a special pilgrimage for us all. David L. Fleming sJ Januao,-Februaty 1999 JOHN MANSFORD PRIOR Apostles and Martyrs: Consecrated Life at the Bishops' Synod for Asia Nowhere else in the world is religious life flourishing-- in both its traditional and more contemporary forms-- as it seems to be in Asia. Thus, unsurprisingly, of the 252 participants at the Synod for Asia (19 April to 14 May 1998), some 90 were members of religious orders or congregations, 36 percent of the total. Among these 90 were 63 of the 188 synodal fathers (including 10 superiors general) and 27 of the 58 auditors and experts (including 8 sisters, 5 priests, and two brothers). These numbers, of course, do not represent the pro-portions of consecrated life in Asia and are not intended to. Eight sisters among 244 men reflects neither the presence nor the role of sisters--let alone other women--in the mission of the Asian churches. It was, after all, a synod of bishops, not a, meeting of religious. The ninety religious were present because religious are active in Asia today at all levels of ecclesial life. But with over a third' of the participants belonging to religious orders and congregations, religious life in Asia was not far from the surface of the synodal discussions. John Mansford.Prior SVD has worked in Indonesia since 1973 and writes from Seminari St. Paulus Ledalero; Maumere 86152, Flores-NT:r; Indonesia. During the Synod for Asia, he was liaison officer for the English-speaking press. His article is being published also in Informationes SCRIS, the in-house publicatio~a of the Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societie~ of ApoStolic Life. Review for Religious The theme of the synod--"Jesus Christ the Savior and his mission of love and service in Asia 'that they may have life and have it abundantly'"--does not refer directly to consecrated life, but it is central to religious life. Religious are active agents in Jesus' mission of love and service, and so consecrated life was referred to in the context of mission. The evangelical theme of the synod was explained at leng.th in two presynodal documents, the lineamenta (guidelines) published in September 1996 and the instrumentum laboris (working docu-ment) published on the eve of the synod itself (February 1998). I wish to glance briefly at these two documents before looking at the synodal documents themselves. Presynodal Documents While all the lineamenta are of interest to religious as mis-sioners, there are just six explicit observations on consecrated life in this document. Half of these are in chapter 2, on the history of Christianity in Asia. Regarding mission in Asia before the 12th century, we read: "Most of these early missionaries and bishops were monks; others were merchants and ordinary Christians" (§9). The important point here is that Eastern-rite churches have been in Asia since Apostolic times and are not the result of Western colonial expansion since the days of da Gama and Columbus. These churches in the Middle East (from Palestine to Iran) and 'in southern India (Kerala), founded long ago by "monks, merchants, and ordinary Christians," are Asian and are accepted as such amid the dominant local populations, whether Muslim or Hindu. This was emphasized time and again by the patriarchs and bishops of these churches. Unfortunately, the story is. different for other churches in Asia. In the 15th and 16th centuries, missionary activity went hand in hand with the colonial expansion of Portugal and Spain. Even today, five hundred years later and half a century since most Asian countries achieve~l political independence, these Latin-rite churches are still looked upon as Western imports. Although some churches were initiated by laypeople (in Indonesia, for example) or even were founded by laypeople (in Korea, for exam-pie), many of these missi6ners were religious. Thus we read in § 10: "Between 1510 and 1640, Franciscans, Jesuits, Dominicans, Augustinians, Carmelites, and Theatines all established houses in Prior * Apostles and Martyrs Asia." Despite the colonial link, the lineamenta emphasize these orders' pioneering work of inculturation. Clearly, the guidelines are rereading history with the needs of contemporary mission in mind. The small, "half-hidden tradition" of dialogue in the past is about to become the great "major tradition" for dialogue in the future. "Many 'missionary-minded' religious congregations sprang up in Europe during the 19th and 20th centuries. Several of these congregations are still at work in Asia. During t.his same period a number of Asian religious congregations of men and women estab-lished themselves in Asia, particularly in India and the Philippines. During the 19th century, for the first time women ventured out into distant lands in Asia to bear witness to Christ and his gospel and to serve the poor . They also became a very essential part of mission in Asia, especially in the preparation of catechumens and the education of children" (§12). One of the signs of renewal since Vatican Council II is the way in which education, previously domesticating, is now. more and more following a liberating model. Such postconciliar renewal is taken up in the following section on "Lessons Learned from History." Among "Significant Contributions" after Vatican II are "con-tinental structures . for the religious in Asia, such as the Asian Meeting of Religious (AMOR), [which] bring the particular churches in Asia together and help coordinate their missionary and pastoral activities" (§14). Perhaps AMOR has achieved more than any other collegial body in opening up the leaders of religious orders and congregations to the wider social realities in which they live and work. This is surely the vital role that Asia-wide bodies are filling: awareness building and ongoing formation among religious leadership. There will be no new evangelization without a shift in consciousness (one of Longeran's "conversions"). Shifts in consciousness come about when we listen to each other and discover the links between our differing situations. Ond important sign that the local churches are now becoming mission-sending churches instead of being exclusivelj~ or mostly mission-receiving churches is the emergence of new Asian mis-sion societies. In the past "the agents of mission were mostly mem-bers of religious orders, congregations, and missionary institutes. Today the local churches of Asia have a number of Asian mis-sionary institutes" (§ 15). As we shall see, this was later taken up on the floor of the synod. Review for Religious Towards the end of the lineamenta ("Agents of Evangelization," §32), the term "consecrated life" is used for the first time. This is in the context of a mission theology of religious life. "It is a very heartening thing to note that many particular churches in Asia have already established mission institutes to send missioners to other countries, even though they themselves are in need of missioners in their own countries. Asian bishops have a particular responsibility to promote mission institutes and to be generous with their personnel for mission areas. Religious orders, congregations, and mission institutes have played a very remarkable role in the evangelization of Asia from the very beginning. Consecrated life is a very privileged means of evange-lization. Persons consecrated by religious vows can dedicate themselves fully to evan-gelization work because of their radical choice of the evangelical counsels, their total availability, their capacity for origi-nality in mission methods--as the history of mission shows, their spirit of generosity and their easy mobility." In this way the lin-eamenta sum up consecrated life in Asia: its historical contribution, distinctive witness, and recent developments. Responses from Asian episcopal conferences to the lineamenta were numerous, some of which have been widely published. Those of Japan, Taiwan, Indonesia, and India appeared in the East Asian Pastoral Review (no. 1, 1998). The instrumentnm laboris, or syn-odal working document, is thus a commentary by the preparatory committee upon the lineamenta, taking into account the views of the Asian bishops. Not surprisingly, the instrumentum is very dif-ferent in both tone and accentuation from the initial document. It is closer to Asia. Religious life gets five explicit mefftions, and these are of inter-est: First, in the historical section, it is regretted that the pio-neering work of dialogue with cultures and other Asian religions was discontinued so quicklyi "Even though the missionaries' efforts met with many successes, it is felt that a proper understanding of these elements in the work of evangelization would have led to a greater acceptance of the faith by the people of Asia . The church's rediscovered appreciation of other religions and cultures should find greater expression in her missidnary approach" (§14). There will be no new evangelization without a shift in consciousness. Janumy-Feb~wa~y 1999 Religious today are being called to recapture these creative insights from the past. However, there is a price to pay. In continuing Jesus' mission of love and service through interreligious and inter-cultural dialogue, consecrated life in the Latin rite will have to leave behind its Western heritage and become radically Asian. This latter point was brought up many times on the floor 6f the synod. While no section in the lineamenta was devoted to religious life, the whole of §16 of the instrumentum is. devoted to "Consecrated Witness." Mention is made of the "steady increase in the number of vocations during the past decades," both to "tra-ditional religious congregations and institutes which are Western in origin; in recent years a number of new local religious congre-gations have sprung up in Asia." "In many cases o . . service pro-vided by missioners has led to martyrdom." "Witness in Asia has ¯ . . come from a great many of the church's religious orders and congregations who have made a major contribution to the growth of the local churches in Asia during the last five hundred years of evangelization. Tens of thousands of religious sisters and brothers, by their love and unselfish service to those who suffer from poverty in its many forms, have contributed to nourishing the faith of many in the church in Asia. Some of these have given an invalu-able service to local churches by establishing houses of formation, especially seminaries. They have been able to reveal the compas-sionate, loving, and caring face of Jesus to the peoples of Asia. Religious brothers have given an outstanding service to the cause of general education, vocational training, technical education, and developmental works. Contemplative religious have also made a unique contribution to the Christian mission in Asia by their prayers and their witness of complete dedication to a life of union with God." Missioners are contemplatives in action--this is a favorite saying of John Paul II. The evaluation of Catholic mission history in Asia (920, "Leaven in Society") highlights the work of religious in educating the laity. Not aJfew outstanding national leaders in cultural, eco-nomic, and .political affairs, even in countries where Christians are a tiny minority, are alumni of Catholic schools. Towards the end of the instrumentum are two more refer-ences to consecrated life, neither of which' is found in the initial lineamenta. In 942, "The Word of God and Mission," we read: "Some responses ask for a greater attention to the Sacred Review for Religious Scriptures, the word of God, in all areas of church life, especially by bishops, priests, deacons, those in consecrated life, catechists, and lay missioners. Preachers, especially missioners, should draw from the Bible and lead their hearers to take up the word of God for personal study and inspiration . God's word has an inherent power to touch the hearts of all peoples, both Christians and believers of other faiths." This link between the centrality of the biblical apostolate in mission and the centrality of the word in the life witness of the missioner came up later on the synodal floor. Finally, in "The Service of Dialogue," we read: "The mission of the church takes place in interaction with others of which dia-logue is an important aspect. Some bishops in Asia have placed an emphasis upon what they term a 'dialogue of life and heart.' . ¯ . Cloistered sisters, who lead lives of prayer and love in open friendship with their neighbors of other faiths, have shown them-selves to be among the most effective practitioners of the dialogue of life." This is one of the few references to contemplative life in the presynodal documents. While just two participants in the synod were from contemplative orders, a central part of the synod was the link between contemplation and action. God-experience and authentic life-witness are crucial. Proclamation in Dialogue During the first seven days, 191 interventions were made by the synodal members and auditors. A quick, thematic analysis of these interventions follows. Twenty-three interventions were on °interfaith dialogue, 18 on the local, church as a communion of communities (a participative, collegial church). Sixteen interven-tions were on inculturation, 11 on the church's option to accom-pany the poor and margin.alized, and 10 on the challenge of economic globalization. Another 10 were on Asian spirituality and God-experience, 7 on youth, and another 7 on the church in China. Six focused on the ancient Apostolic churches of the Middle East, 5 on issues concerning women, 5 concerning the laity, 4 con-cerning schools, 4 concerning ecumenism, 4 concerning indigenous peoples, 4 concerning family life, and so on. VVhat picture emerges from this rough breakdown? Seventy-six percent of the intervention~s (146) dealt with four main topics: the Asian churches in diaiogue with other faith traditions (43 inter-ventions), the church becoming Asian by dialoguing with living Janttary-Februat.'y 1999 Prior ¯ Apostles and Martyrs r ¯ ] cultures (41 interventions), the churches learning to dialogue with the poor (33 interventions), and the Asian church as a church of the laity (29 interventions). Thus, for the bishops and observers, the threefold dialogue with other religions, with cultures, and with the marginalized looks to the context, approach, and con-tent of the New Evangelization. In this threefold dialogue Christ will become all in all, "that they have life and have it abundantly." Clearly, members of religious orders and congregations are involved in this threefold dialogue, one way or another. In responding to Jesus' mission through the threefold dialogue, con-secrated life itself is evange.lized. It must be noted that only three interventions took up conse-crated life as its sole subject (§§2"5, 81, and 99), while three supe-riors general included religious life as one of their topics (§§68, 133, and 134). Others touched upon consecrated life as part of their intervention. Ten superiors general spoke of various aspects of mission. Some other interventions are of direct relevance to religious, those on Asian spirituality, for instance, and on the strug-gle of women. I here pinpoint a few major issues culled from these interventions. Women in Church and Society Keeping in mind that the great majority of religious are women and that the majority of missioners in Asia are women also, the few interventions on women are of particular impor-tance. Sister Filomena Hirota MME (Japan), one of the eight sis-ter auditors pres.ent, spoke on women's growing awareness and on women's movements which demand that the fundamental equal-ity and dignity of all women and girls be respected in thought, attitudes, and practices. After referring to statements by the FABC (Federation of Asian Bishops' Conferences) over the years, she said: "The church in Asia has a predominantly feminine face. In many countries women constitute 70-80 percent of its member-ship. The presence of women in pastoral ministry, their service to the poor and marginated, their commitment to peace and jus-tice in ecumenical and interreligious relationships, and their sol-idarity actions in promoting the dignity and equality of all women, men, and children have been significant and important." She went. on to say: "A new way of being church in Asia calls for a church in solidarity with the cry of women in a prophetic Review for Religious way." The church is called to "become a credible sign of the dig-nity and freedom of women in society and in the world" (Fourth FABC Assembly). The church has to find a concrete way to respond to the Holy Father's words expressing regret and apology for wrongs and insensitivities toward women in the church: "May this regret be transformed, on the part of the whole church, into a renewed commitment to fidelity to the gospel vision" (Letter to Women, 29 June 1995). She made five proposals: (1) "Members of Mother Church are called to be agents of communion, to create wholesome and equal relationships of compassion and care among humankind and with nature." (2) "Theology from women's perspectives and experiences should be introduced in seminaries and mission formation courses." (3) "It is important, indeed necessary, for male members of Mother Church to discover and grow in 'feminine' insights and attitudes in imita-tion of Jesus (see FABC Assembly 1990) so that their service may be fully and genuinely human and Christian in a society where the logic of domination is destroying both human beings and nature." (4) "Future priests should be formed so as to accept women as equal disciples and companions in their evangelization work." (5) "As a concrete sign of recognition of the fundamental equality of all bap-tized persons (including their dignity and rights) and the church's commitment to uphold women as equal partners, it is urgently rec-ommended: (a) that there be a minimum of 30 percent participa-tion of women in all church organizations and councils; (b) that in the church all women, including religious sisters, be justly com-pensated for their work; (c) that women be given support and opportunities which will enable them to study theology and related subjects; (d) that in each diocese a committee be formed to address injustice, especially against women and children, and to take effec-tive appropriate action in coordination with other local, national, and international organizations; (e) that all language (which sub-consciously influences our conscious attitudes) of church-related writings reflect the equality of men and women. May Mary of the Magnificat accompany us in this jourfiey as we women commit ourselves to Jesus' mission of love and service in Asia!" Appropriate here is the intervention of Pastor Agustina Lumentut, of the Central Sulawesi Christian Church of Indonesia, The church in Asia has a predominantly feminine face. Januat3,-FebruaD, 1999 Prior ¯ Apostles and Martyrs one. of the ecumenical delegates from the Christian Conference of Asia. She noted: "In Asia many countries are afflicted by a mon-etary and economic crisis. Therefore poverty and suffering increase for men, but in particular for women who will be hit most by the rising prices of their basic needs. Often the husbands and the older children of Asian women have gone away to the big cities to find a job and never return. No 'syn-odos,' no 'walking-together' any-more for many Asian women and their families. But there is a 'syn-odos,' a 'walking-together' with women from the same reli-gion, but also from other religions, women who have similar expe-riences. As Asian women theologians have stated: 'These shared experiences can become one of the primary sources for theologi-cal reflection, for rereading the Scripture, for a new interpretation, a new perspective.' As long as Asian women find the courage to tell each other their stories and share their .experiences, they have hope. Women are walking together. But is the church walking with them?" David Fleming SM, superior general of the Marianists (inter-vention no. 68), reflected on the compelling power of feminine images of the holy in Asian religions. In Hindu spirituality female images usually stand for shakti, power, creative energy. In Bengali Hinduism great attention is paid to Durga, a feminine image of the holy that is portrayed, almost like the Woman of the Apocalypse (chap. 12) as conquering the forces of evil, crushing the serpent's or dragon's head. Such feminine images, far from inducing passivity and helpless resignation, point to great social dynamism. The many feminine figures in Asia have arisen in a context of theo-logical reflection and catechesis that-is totally different from ours and surely unacceptable to us as Christians on the level of doctrine. Nevertheless, they enshrine some religious imagery that we Christians naturally find realized in Mary. She is a holy woman of contemplative sensitivity, one who experienced God rather than analyzed God. She is full of compassion and sensitivity to the poor and suffering, in dynamic solidarity with them, sharing their strug-gles as a woman of the people in an oppressed nation. In herself she lives a harmony with God, with her fellow human beings, with nature, and with society. David Fleming ended by saying: "Much of this Asian sensitivity for what we might roughly call the 'feminine' aspects of the holy is in fact integrated into the tender and almost cbnnatural devo-tion to Mary that characterizes so many Asian Christians. I am Review for Religious not talking of an integration of doctrine or of any new theologi-cal assertions about Mary. But I believe that a culture that shows so great a sensitivity to the feminine side of the holy has a great deal to contribute to our Christian experience of Mary, not only in Asia but also in the rest of the world. It helps us see the dynamism and vitality of Mary in the work of salvation and her power to motivate us to a commitment in solidarity with the poor. In this way we can give a greater Asian content to the conviction often expressed by the Holy Father that Mary is the 'Star' enlight-ening and directing the progress of the new evangelization in our era." All this is of interest to religious, both women and men. What images of God have we internalized, which images are we proclaiming by our lifestyle and in our work? God-Experience Time and again, bishops spoke out on the centrality of authen-tic experience of the human and the divine. I take up just one example, the presentation of Bishop John Osta of Patna, India (intervention no. 37). It is, "Bishop John said, "not enough to repeat doctrinal or theoretical formulas; personal witness to a personal experience is called for." Bishop John called for a new contem-plative lifestyle for all in the church. In this "rebirthing" of the church, religious have a pioneering role: live the Christian mystew in an Asian way! Integrating prayer forms from other Asian reli-gions is not syncretism, he maintained, but a demand of our times. The bishop continued by quoting FABC (Hong Kong, 1977): "The decisive new phenomenon for Christianity in Asia will be the emergence of genuine Christian communities in Asia, Asian in their way of thinking, praying, living, communicating their own Christ-experience to others . We should beware of seeing our future mission in categories that belong to the past, when the West shaped the churches' history. If the Asian churches do not dis-cover their own identity, they have no future." David Fleming made an interesting contribution on some aspects of the "dialogue of religious experience." His nine years in Nepal and India informed his presentation. He said: "To speak to the heart of Asian people and enter into a genuine dialogue of religious experience, religious and bishops should give special attention to developing the Christian contemplative life in Asia, as well as to enriching the contemplative dim.ension within all insti- P~o__r_ ¯ ~ostles and Martyrs, tutes of consecrated life, in order to create inculturated forms of living the spirituality of each institute. This is an aspiration widely shared, but not always so well realized, by religious institutes pre-sent in Asia." He continued: "Interreligious dialogue on the level of reli-gious experience involves a giving and a receiving, so that much can be learned from the deep religiosity of people and from their religions. Such dialogue shows us concretely how the Spirit of God has been at work through the centuries in the religious expe-rience of others. We often find that interchanges with seekers of holiness in other religions open up new vistas for Christian life and especially refresh our'memory of elements in our Christian spir~ itual heritage that we have tended to forget and neglect." He gave some examples: "A genuinely inculturated celebra-tion of the Eucharist. Very often, after participating in liturgies that integrated elements from the great variety of Indian cultures-- Hindu, Muslim, animist--Indian Catholics told me how richly these inculturated liturgies moved them, touching something that had perhaps been buried and a bit regretted in their souls during their years of taking part in more Western-style liturgies." A sec-ond example: "The disciplines of yoga direct us to pay greater attention to an approach to the body that disposes us to prayer. Similar teaching exists in our Christian tradition, especially in the hesychasm of Eastern medieval Christianity. But I doubt if we will easily rediscover this neglected dimension of spiritual discipline without the help of interreligious dialogue." Another example: "Attention to the rich oriental teaching .on praying with a mantra has sparked a fruitful renewal of c'ontemplative prayer among Christians in our time, often called 'centering prayer.' A similar approach was inculcated in ancient Christian monasticism, from the Egyptian desert through John Cassian, and in the oriental Christian tradition of the Jesus Prayer. The prayer of the rosary is, in its own way, within the same tradition. But today many Christians, East and West, are rediscovering this contemplative form of prayer through interreligious dialogue." Cardinal Eduardo Martfnez Somalo, prefect of the Congregationfor Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life (CICLSAL) gave the 81st intervention. The cardinal's eight points emphasized the centrality of t~tal dedication by the consecrated person. The key to mission witness is who she or he is, not what she or he does. Cardinal Martfnez Somalo linked the Revlew for Religious contemplative and mystical dimension of consecrated life to an ascetical lifestyle. This comment is particularly pertinent as Asia suffers a major monetary crisis on top of long-standing systemic poverty and injustice. In simplicity and prayerful silence, religious undergo day by day conversion to the gospel. After the primacy of religious experience, the cardinal emphasized the need for a solid theological formation, particularly necessary as we enter into dia-logue with Asian cultures and other Asian religions. He ended on a note of joy and hope at the many vocations to religious life in Asia. These key issues echoed and strengthened the contributions from Asia itself. Peter-Hans Kolvenbach, superior general of the Jesuits, con-trastedthose who work for results with those who live out of love (intervention no. 97). The high-quality institutions run by reli-gious orders do not automatically proclaim the love of God. Our apostolates proclaim love when they are run by people "through whom God's love shines." Similarly with the work of dialogue: we dialogue in love without calculation or ulterior motives. In our apostolates we do not proclaim self but Christ crucified. I was reminded of the saying of John of the Cross: "Where there is no love, put love, and you will reap love." A short comment, one of many during the synod, about the centrality of God-experience, came from Bishop Gratian Mundadan (intervention no. 124) of Bijnor of the Syro-Malabar rite, India: "A Hindu sadhu once told Abhishiktanandaswamy: If you want to touch the heart of Indians, every one of you must become a guru. A guru is one who has deep God-experience. Such a guru does not quote, does not instruct, does not formulate, does not dogmatize. The guru shares personal experience of God, It is not just a question of presenting Jesus Christ as the guru; every Christian needs to become a guru--deep in the experience of God. . Spirit-filled and Spirit-led aposdes began their mission with sur-prisingly great success . "Unfortunately the scenario changed. The communities of the Spirit became institutionalized. When possessions, power, and authority increased, the need to rely on the power of the Spirit decreased. The Holy Spirit remained the forgotten person of the Holy Trinity. The humble, poor servant Christ, who came to serve and not to be served, was forced to assume the status of a power-ful king instead of continuing to be the King of the heart. The church began to rely on competency and human efficiency, doc- Jamtao, oPYbruaO, 1999 Prior ¯ Apostles and Martyrs trinal as well as juridical. If the church's power and authority comes only from competency and human efficiency, then we are facing a crisis in our mission. For such a competency based on knowledge, ideas, administrative skills, and laws will search for its legitimacy in the rational, in the human. The power of the church is reli-gious, spiritual, power from heaven. When the leaders of the church are devoid of such a spiritual power, they'will take shelter in juridical power. "There is an urgent need to change this image. The leadership of the church has to change the style of functioning, to become more spiritual, free from institutional authoritarianism and fully at the service of the gospel and the world. Such a leadership will be able to animate people to God-experience and help them translate this experience into fraternal love. This is to be the original con-tribution of the gospel to Asia, where other religions concentrate on God-experience alone without any effort to serve the brethren. The leadership of the church will have to discern and activate the vari-ous charisms of the whole Christian community: build up commu-nities of love and fellowship as did the Apostles. Such a leadership will seek to strengthen the capacity of the people of God to become true faith communities as against the dichotomy that exists today between faith and life among Christians: make these communities powerful evangelizing communities, empower the faithful and enable them to face the challenges of the present day and of the future with interior power, power from above, and not with worldly wisdom and efficiency. ".Following the way of Christ, the church in Asia has to assume the way of kenosis, of self-emptying, of the cross, of loving and self-giving service. We have to develop a kenosis ecclesiology. We have to shed attitudes of power, domination, influence. Such a church will appeal to the Asian mind . Let the call of the synod to the church of Asia be a return to the sources, to the spirit and style of the early church, where the Spirit of God reigned." Asian Mission Societies Edward Malone (Hong Kong) is the long-serving assistant secretary general of the Federation of Asian Bishops' Conferences (FABC). The bishops of south, southeast, and east Asia have belonged to FABC since 1970; they are now to be joined by the churches of central Asia. Father Edward devoted his intervention Review for Religious (no. 99) to Asian mission societies: "Although the number of [Asian] Christians remains small in comparison with Asia's bur-geoning masses (2-3 percent of all Asian peoples), this 'little flock' (Lk 12:32) seeks to share its riches and discovery of Christ with neighboring peoples . They are aware that 85 percent of all the world's non-Christians live in Asia. "Responses to the call of mission and evangelization within Asia have taken a variety of forms. Most international institutes of women and men have a home in Asia. New groups and new forms of religious life, secular institutes, and lay orga-nizations have emerged to respond to the call of world mission. Yet I wish to highlight a unique ~ and essential form of mission response. This charism is that of the missionary society of apos-tolic life. In recent decades, six such societies of men have emerged in Asia: the Missionary Society of the Philippines, the Missionary Society of Saint Thomas the Apostle (India), the Catholic Foreign Mission Society of Korea, the Missionary Society of Thailand, the Lorenzo Ruiz Mission Society (Philippines), and the Heralds of Good News (India) . These societies of men who are pledged to lifelong commitment to foreign mission bring a unique--and essential-~- contribution to the church's missionary activity. "These mission societies of apostolic life contribute a partic-ular focus to mission. Their contribution is ad genres, ad exteros, and ad vitam. They direct their efforts to evangelization ad genres, to those who have not yet heard the liberating and salvific Good News of Jesus Christ; ad exteros, to peoples outside their own coun-try, cultural milieu, and language group; and ad vitam, through a lifelong commitment to this unique form of mission witness. There are countless local churches in Asia that owe the emergence of their faith and communities to the dedicated labors of such mis~ sion societies of apostolic life founded in other parts of the world. The 'time of the heirs' has come for all local churches of Asia to respond by establishing such mission societies . A local church is not intended to live alone; it is 'not a community in isolation from other communities of the church one and catholic. Rather it seeks communion with all of them' (FABC 1). This is a unique con-tribution that mission societies of apostolic life can bring to the local churches throughout Asia. Such societies can become 'bridges 85 percent of all the world's non-Christians live in Asia. Januaty-Febt'tlat3, 1999 Prior * Apostles and Martyrs of communion' by which the sister local churches of Asia can appreciate and exchange their unique gifts. In this way the gospel is proclaimed, communion is strengthened, the 'dream of catholic-ity' emerges and is concretized . Though not limited to Asia alone, their growth will result in Asians evangelizing Asians, the emergence of authentically missionary local churches, the strength-ening of bonds of communion among the churches of Asia . " Edward Malone then pointed out developments that foster or hinder mission ad genres. First, in an ecclesiology of communion, we need bridges of exchange and communion. Missioners ad genres foster communion among sisters churches. Second, churches that do not experience this exchange (sending/receiving) can become closed ih upon themselves. They could become vulnerable to local ideologies and a closed nati'onalism. Third, if ad genres mission is not promoted, there will remai~ many unreached peoples through-out Asia. Fourth, pastoral care even keenly felt must not be allowed to derail the local-church ad gentes mission effort (this has often happened: working abroad with nationals from the same church of origin does not fulfill the ad genres vocation). Father Malone con-cluded by mentioning two current temptations: (1) the "tempta-tion of success" (to settle down with the visible results of evangelization, hesitating to turn over the parishes, schools, and institutions to the local church and diocese and move out to new frontiers) and (2) the "temptation of pastoral care" (seeking to answer all the pastoral needs of a diocese and so losing the will to reaffirm the original charism, "to g9 and make disciples"). Ours must always be the motto of the apostle Paul: "Christus me misit non baptizare, sed evangelizare" (1 Co 1:17). Edward Malone's informative and provocative contribution drew two responses from superiors general of mission societies that originated in the West. Father Franco Cagnasso, PIME superior general (intervention no. 13 3), welcomed the Asian missioners, that is, those who remain authentically Asian. Their presence is positive for the whole church. They are less institutionalized and live close to the poor. Many have a valuable interiorized approach to the mystery of Christ. People from the other continents have redis-covered their Christian faith through reaching out to Asian spiri-tuality. Father Franco ~lso welcomed the fact that Asian churches were open to receiving cross-cultural missioners from outside Asia. The more the Asian churches become self-sufficient pastorally, the more they can move out to dialogue with others. Review for Religious This contribution was followed by that of Father Raymond Rossignol, superior general of the Missions of Paris (intervention no. 134). He emphasized that each and every church should be open to send and receive cross-cultural missioners. No church should be encapsulated. History has left the Asian churches with a problem: they are perceived by majority communities as being foreign (Western). Also, in the past, Western missioners have tended to dominate local church personnel. One reaction to this is for each church to look after itself without outside "interference." However, we need to find suitable ways to ensure that cross-cultural mis-sioners can be present in all churches--not just in those who are not yet "self-sufficient." Raymond Rossignol concluded by saying: "No church is so poor that it has nothing to offer others; no church is rich enough that it cannot receive from others." Formation of Religious One of the burdens of history is that Western-style churches were planted in Asia during the colonial era. In the words of the president of the Catholic Bishops' Conference of Sri Lanka, Bishop Oswald Thomas Colman Gomis (intervention no. 141), "the church has remained foreign in its public image and expression, in liturgy, art, architecture, mannerisms, and presentation of doc-trine, and above all in patterns of life, especially those of her reli-gious . Most of my brothers and sisters here, I believe, would agree with me that this image remains very much a block to evan-gelization today. This synod [should] find some formula to erase this scar inherited at birth by many churches in the countries of Asia." One place to start is formation. Bishop Arturo M. Bastes (intervention no. 25) gave a tour de force, finishing his presentation a split second before the micro-phone was cut off. A former SVD provincial, Bishop Arturo of Romblon, Philippines, spoke on formation for religious in the contemporary Asian context. His exposition focused on four important shifts taking place in the Asian churches: a shift from a Eurocentered church to an authentically Asian church, a shift in our understanding of history, a shift in the model of church, a shift in our understanding of spirituality. Each shift has its impact upon formation communities. ¯ According to Bishop Arturo, the church's mission in Asia has been approached from the perspective of a Eurocentered church, Prior ¯ Apostles andMartyrs deeply conditioned by the European colonialism of the times. Formation of religious was or still is monocultural, Western or European. While religious vocations are rapidly decreasing in Europe and the rest of the Western Hemisphere, there is an ever increasing number of religious vocations in Asia. A contextual-ized formation is suited to the mentality of Asians. There should be real insertion in social reality. Asian formators are developing practical methodologies in contrast to Western academic models. Academic study needs to be accompanied by practical method-ologies in the light of Asian realities. The second shift is in our understanding of history. The great world religions Hinduism and Buddhism, whose cradle is Asia, antedate Christianity by thousands of years. Christianity was born in Asia, but has been alienated from Asia by becoming Eurocentered. The Catholic Bishops' Conference of the Philippines proposed that the synod "explore exhaustively in an open and humble way the revelatory nature" of the religions of Asia and their impact on the church's proclamation of Jesus. There is much that the church can learn from other Asian religions regarding the values of God's reign. Persons beginning religious-life formation need a great feeling of respect for other religious tra-ditions which offer "salvation" even before the coming of Christ. Christian religious should not feel "superior" to people of other traditions. Asian formandi and formandae need to remain Asian even when they join international congregations. The third shift is in church models. When the church embed-ded itself in Europe, a mindset arose that considered Europe Christian and the rest of the world pagan. Unfortunately, they seem to have identified Christianity with whatever is European. Many third-world churches are striving to shift away from a tri-umphalistic model to a church identified with the social condi-tions of the people. Without a sense of the poor, there can be no genuine following of Jesus in Asia. Hence, candidates for the reli-gious life in Asia should be trained to have both an affective and effective commitment to the poor. All religious congregations today emphasize "preferential~ option for the poor." The question is: Do we really mean it? The "passing-over to the poor" is admit-tedly one of the most difficult transitions for a religious congre-gation. The fourth shift highlighted by Bishop Nrmro ~ls in our under-standing of spirituality. Traditionally we have associated spirituality Review for Religious with an institutional way of living. We need to shift our under-standing of spirituality from institutional to incarnational. More basic to each congregational charism is being rooted in the incar-nation of Christ. There is a dynamic and essential relationship between culture and spirituality in a common humanity. The three characteristics of an incarnational spirituality are self-transcen-dence, search for meaning, and the gift of self. These are at the heart of every spirituality, whether Christian or non-Christian. Globalization of the free market is attacking Asia; the prospects of the third millennium are frightening. Religious women and men of Asia should join forces to fight, con-sumerism by living a spiritual life that is accessible to their fellow Asians, whatever their creed. Bishop Arturo concluded by suggesting that religious candidates should seriously study and reflect upon the spirituality of other Asian religions besides the teachings of the Judeo-Christian Scriptures. The Spirit is present in Hinduism, Buddhism, Taoism, Islam, and even primal religion. The vocation of Asian religious today is to save Asia, by the wisdom and depth of Asian spirituality with which Asians feel at home, from the onslaught of materialism coming from global market forces. Asian spirituality is not opposed to the teachings of Christ, for it is a true manifestation of God's Spirit working in all peoples. Janet Wang, president of the Conference of Major Religious Superiors of Women of Malaysia-Singapore-Brunei, spoke of dia-logue within the church: only a church in dialogue can dialogue with cultures and other religions. She spoke of mission in the light of the church as communion. The church in Asia needs to grow in dialogue of life and heart so as to be a visible and efficacious sign of communion in the multiracial and multireligious societies in which we live. While we are challenged to intensify interreligious dialogue and dialogue with culture, we cannot ignore the need to improve our capacity to dialogue within the church at the grass-roots level--among priests who work in the same parish, as well as among priests, religious, and laypeople. One of the best forms of The great world religions Hinduism and Buddhism, whose cradle is Asia, antedate Christianity by thousands of years. Prior * Apostles and Martyrs For formation to become Asian, future l rofessors need to do their special studies in Asia rather than in Rome or elsewhere in the West. evangelization in secularized societies like ours is the witness of love and reconciliation, unity in diversity, authority as service. The Spirit is calling us to move away from the image of a cler-ical institution to the building of a participatory church where priests, religious, and laypeople have a common vision of church as communion. The church in Asia will become more alive and efficacious to the extent that the laity and religious are actively involved with their parish priests in pastoral plan-ning and decision making. Sister Janet said, "Our religious communities need to be recognized as Christ-centered basic ecclesial communities within the local church." Changes in attitude, however, do not come automatically. Persons need to be formed in a gradual, experiential way. Sister Janet concluded: "May I strongly recommend, also on behalf of the Conference of Religious Major Superiors of Malaysia, Singapore, and Brunei, (1) that seminarians be formed to a better understanding of consecrated life in the context of the ecclesiology of communion, (2) that pri'ests, religious, and laypeo-pie be formed together towards a new way of being church. With hearts open to the action of the Spirit, we need to listen to the word of God, to pray and reflect together, to search together, and in an atmosphere of dialogue to carry out pastoral planning, pastoral care, and mission outreach together as church, the family of God in Asia." Francis Adeodatus Micallef, apostolic vicar of Kuwait (inter-vention no. 43), also spoke of the spiritual formation of religious. "Spiritual formation of candidates should not suffer as a conse-quence of formation programs . Lifestyle should reflect the deep spiritual formation which these centers are imparting." The key word here is authenticity. Bishop Peter Chun Hon-Ting of Kuching, Malaysia (inter-vention no. 62), spoke on seminary formation; his comments are germane not only to clerical religious. Bishop Peter Chun empha-sized the absolute need for a sound knowledge of the religiocul-tural situation of one's country and a critical knowledge of the ReviewforReligious economic and political conditions that affect people. Many bish-ops emphasized the link between contemplation and involvement, spirituality and politics. Bishop Peter also stressed the dignity and equality of lay and clerical, the Bible as the soul of all theology, and the integration of Asian philosophies and spiritualities into the curriculum. For formation to become Asian, future professors need to do their special studies in Asia rather than in Rome or elsewhere in the West. Not far from the question of formation is that of spiritual direction. Vicente Cajilig OP, secretary to the Office of Education and Student Chaplaincy FABC (Philippines), gave the one inter-vention on spiritual direction. He said: "Spirituality in Asia, as seen by formators, is a form of journey and accompaniment. This journey follows a certain pathway that leads to interiority. The model of all models is Christ, with whom the formandi and for-mandae are configured. The directee arrives eventually at the stature of Christ." He concluded that, above all, a "spiritual pro-gramme that prepares spiritual directors themselves is important. While formation in theology gives candidates a firm foundation in the faith, the handling of the spiritual task requires added know-how on the journey of the Spirit." Schools A continent-wide synod is not the place to look at individual apostolates in any meaningful detail. Where the churches in Asia are small, even insignificant minorities, elite schools have been an important apostolate. As independent governments and majority communities have developed their own, even better, school systems (see intervention no. 125 by Bishop Leo Laba Ladjar of Jayapura, Indonesia), this traditional apostolate is being increasingly ques-tioned. The preferential love for the poor also raises fundamental questions. Alwis Sunanda FMS (Sri Lanka) put it like this: "An educational system, especially at the tertiary level, committed to the service of the values of Jesus and right relationships, orients its curriculum and research towards greater understanding of the social forces at work in exploitative societies such as exist in parts of Asia. It shines light on exploitative and liberative forces in those societies and tries to motivate students and teachers to choose a set of values different from the existing capitalistic, consumerist, wasteful, gender- and ethnically biased values. Its library and social January-February 1999 Prior ¯ Apostles and Martyrs communications would be a help to the poor and the needy, those who are marginalized, and exploited women and men." Brother Alwis, however, went on to suggest that "the social system in the context of Asia tends to ensure that Christian schools serve the interests of more affluent groups in society. How valid, in practice, is the argument that we can influence the future shape of our soci-ety by training the children of the elite in our schools? Are we not, instead, put in a position of maintaining the existing social order, to the extent that our own values and lifestyle are adjusted to continue a system of education that bolsters, if not aggravates, the inequalities? Often a glaring incongruence exists between the gospel we teach and the work we do, between our expressed mes-sage and the lives we live. We ourselves, though, might not notice this by reason of our great dedication to the cause we serve." Brother Alwis concludes, "Today we may have a better chance of being faithful to the call of the gospel by working in programs that foster nonformal education, adult education, values educa-tion, and education through peoples' movements rather than through traditional educational systems." This is just one thoughtful contribution among the many that were made about various apostolates. What is clear is that, fifty years after most Asian countries became independent, religious orders are having to look again at many of their traditional apos-tolates, successful as they superficially look. The Propositions The synod is over and the bishops are back at their posts. Some time in 1999 an apostolic exhortation will be published, based upon the 59 propositions drawn up during the final days of the synod. Two of these propositions, numbers 27 and 28, deal respectively with "consecrated life" and "mission societies of apos-tolic life and other mission societies." I did not receive a copy of the propositions, and the synodal members handed theirs back to the secretariat. From what I heard in the synodal hall, and the notes I made, I can make the following brief cominents. In Proposition 27, religious are looked upon as a reminder of the universal call to holiness who inspire a self-giving love towards everyone, especially the least of their brothers and sisters. The synod calls upon religious to undertake a renewal and revitaliza-tion of their commitment to proclaim the saving message of Jesus Review fo," Religious Christ. Formation should be Christ-centered and contextualized, faithful to the group's charisms, with emphasis upon life witness. Spirituality and lifestyle should be sensitive to the religious her-itage of the people they live with and serve. Proposition 28 acknowledges the continuing contribution made by mission institutes of apostolic life. The recent founding of mission institutes of apostolic life in Asia itself is an expression of the missionary dimension of the churches of Asia. The synod encourages the further establishment of mission societies charac-terized by their commitment to mission ad genres, ad exteros, and ad vitam. Encouraging Words Each and every woman and man dedicated to the consecrated life in Asia has received renewed encouragement from the 1998 synod to .continue the daily witness of risking oneself for Christ's sake. We have been challenged, some thirty-six years after the opening of the Second Vatican Council, to take up the language of the threefold dialogue with religions, cultures, and the marginal-ized and to flesh it out in lives of radical witness to the incarnate Word and graceful Spirit. This threefold dialogue is one integral movement of evangelization, the evangelization of the whole of life in all its myriad dimensions. As apostles of the crucified and risen Lord, we promote life in multicultural, multifaith Asia. As martyrs to the truth-giving Spirit, we endeavor to live ascetically with the marginalized. There is no reason for holding back: we have the dream, we know the strategies. We have the documents, we have the official encouragement~ The only real barrier is the narrowness of our minds and the smallness of our hearts. "Have courage, I have conquered the world!" On 16:33). "For God is greater than our hearts" (1 Jn 3:20). Janualy-Februa~y 1999 PAUL BERNADICOU Catholic Guides in Dialogue with Buddhist Practice Ion the latter 1960s Thomas Merton, prophetic here as in many ther areas with fresh religious insight, declared that, "far from being suspicious of the Oriental mystical traditions, Catholic contemplatives since the Second Vatican Council should be in a position to appreciate the wealth of experience that has accumu-lated in those traditions." His 1967 book Mystics and Zen Masters included an earlier essay expressing admiration for the 16th-cen-turyJesuit missionary effort in China, seeing that effort as a pro-logue to contemporary religious understanding. Merton was joined by a bevy of other Catholic scholars eager now to enter into dialogue rather than to proselytize in their mis-sionary outreach. In the words of the council's Declaration on Non-Christian Religions, Catholics were now asking themselves how these Asian and other ways try to pierce "that ultimate and unutterable mystery which engulfs our being, and whence we take our rise, and whither our journey leads us." The council docu-ment not only gave permission to respect the teachings of these other ways, but also invited Catholic scholars to "acknowledge, preserve, and promote the spiritual and moral goods found among them, as well as the values in their society and culture" (§§1, 2). Just before his tragic death in Bangkok at an East/West monas-tic conference, Merton wrote about his deeply moving sight of the Buddha sculptures at Polonnaruwa (Asian Journal, New Paul Bernadicou SJ chairs the University of San Francisco's theology department and is tertian instructor for the California province of the Society of Jesus. His address is 2130 Fulton Street; San Francisco, California 94117. Review for Religious Directions, 1993, pp. 233-236): "I mean, I know and have seen what I. was obscurely looking for. I do not know what else remains, but I have now seen and have pierced through the surface and got beyond the shadow and the disguise." He wrote beautifully about these huge, silent figures "questioning nothing, knowing every-thing" with their great yet serene smiles. Another Catholic monastic voice from that period was Aelred Graham's, who in Conversations: Christian and Buddhist Encounters in Japan (Harcourt, Brace, 1968, p. xiv) recounts how he sought to pass from the area of academic study to that of firsthand experi-ence of Buddhism. In his sixtieth year, after long experience as a Benedictine, he had the opportunity to speak with some for whom the Buddha was a role model no less than Jesus was for him. He describes the value of such religious encounter as "not at the peripheral level of Christian ecclesiology, which still preoccupies so many Catholic theologians, but at the basically existential level of who we are and what human life is all about." Jesuit Guides The Jesuit missionary H.M. Enomiya Lassalle, already in Japan before World War II, eventually inculturated his Christian Zen meditational practice into a Zen-style Jesuit retreat center in the countryside at a remove from bustling Tokyo. He published his personal findings regarding the helpfulness of Zen for an enhance-ment of Christian meditation. In Zen Meditation for Christians (German original, 1968; Open Court Publishers, 1974, pp. 151- ¯ 152), he illustrates this conviction with the parable of the prodi-gal son. In the typical way of Christian meditation at the time, you would reflectively think about the youth's family circum-stances, then the effrontery of his demand for his inheritance, then his degradation after wasteful spending, and finally his remorse and return to his father's house. A deeper form of medi-tation would not simply use~ the prodigal son as a symbol, but identify with him as an image of oneself. The person meditating would thus become the prodigal son. It is myself who reveled in our father's house only to estrange myself and now hanker to return in repentance and humility. "When we perform medita-tion in this manner and begin anew each time we practice, our heart is then purified and transformed directly and immediately through meditation--rather than indirectly through intellectual Janua~y-Februa~Ty 1999 Bernadicou ¯ Catholic Guides in Dialogue In Zen the method of purification involves working on koans, but in Christianity the emphasis is on meditation and the importance of Scripture. considerations of the will." This type of meditation is similar to Zen, wherein the Zen practitioner becomes one with a koan (that is, a Zen paradox designed to break through discursive con-sciousness to intuitive insight). ~ Heinrich Dumoulin, a Jesuit colleague of Lassalle at Sophia University in Tokyo, edited in the 1970s a series titled Religious Encounter: East and West which was "intended to promote an understanding of the living unity, diversity, and meeting-ground of reli-gious phenomena, Asian and Occidental." Dumoulin's own first contribution to the series, Christianity Meets Buddhism (Open Court, 1974, p. 198), emphasized that interreli-gious dialogue can contribute uniquely toward opening up a new horizon. Both Christianity and Buddhism involve a search for ulti-mate reality, and a dialogue between the two is "perhaps one of mankind's greatest hopes." A Jesuit of Japanese origin also at Sophia University, Joseph Kadowaki, whose youthful background had been Zen Buddhism and who was later baptized a Christian, came to recognize similarities between Zen monastic training and his own Jesuit novitiate training. In Zen the method of purification involves working on koans, but in Christianity the emphasis is on meditation and the imlSortance of Scripture. After he began to practice Zen, Kadowaki found that he could read the Bible in a new light. His book Zen and the Bible (Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1977) describes the method used in solving a Zen koan and shows how to appreciate the many para-doxical or obscure koan-like passages in the Bible. William Johnston, the fourth member of this quartet of Jesuit scholars of Zen at Sophia University, recently published his mag-num opus, Mystical Theology (HarperCollins, 1995, reprinted by Orbis, 1998). He has for more than twenty-five years been in the vanguard of the Christian and Zen Buddhist dialogue. He pub-lished Christian Zen: A Way of Meditation in 1971 (Harper and Row; 2nd edition, 1980); it provides explicit guidelines for a way of Christian meditation that incorporates Zen insight. Wordless Review for Religiot,s meditation, a modified lotus position, rhythmical breathing, and the use of koan are explored as Zen practices which can heighten Christian meditation. This interest in meditation led to his scientific investigation into its effects: Silent Music: The Science of Meditation (1974; reprinted, Fordham University Press, 1997). Johnston surveys what scientific research has uncovered about altered states of con-sciousness, brainwaves, and biofeedback. He investigates both Eastern and Western meditation by which one enters deeper lev-els of consciousness. The discovery of such meditation's "passive energy" and of other physiological and psychological benefits show its power to heal and comfort the distressed. And Johnston points out how the "nonattachment" and "knowledge of empa-thy" required in meditation can help people find genuine friend-ships and intimacy in their relationships. Thus he has added insights from modern science into the dialogue between Eastern and Western religious traditions. His Mystical Theology (1995) updates this message for many contemporary laypeople practicing meditation and finding them-selves drawn into mystical states of consciousness. John of the Cross wrote such a theology for the 16th century, and Johnston attempts it for our own century through his ongoing dialogue with modern science and with Buddhism. "Traditional mystical theology was written for monks and nuns . This is the age of the laity. Now married people who live a busy life in factory or classroom or office or laboratory aspire to a life of meditation and mysticism" (p. I0). They look for spiritual guidance as they grap-ple with problems of sexuality, social justice, world peace, and protection of the environment. Trappist Guides Also at the forefront of contemporary Catholic encounter with Asian practice are the adept Trappist advocates of centering prayer Basil Pennington and Thomas Keating, who have taken up where fellow Trappist Thomas Merton left off. In his 1977 Daily We Touch Him (Doubleday Image, 1979) and 1980 Centering Prayer (Doubleday Image, 1982), Pennington explored how to adapt the principles of Transcendental Meditation (TM) and Zen to Christian meditation. Daily V~e Touch Him is a simple but helpful guide to finding God's presence in one's own daily experience: "God is pre- January-February 1999 Bernadicou * Catholic Guides in Dialogue sent to us from the very first instant that he calls us into being-- and thenceforth forever he touches us at every point and level of our being. He is present to us. But are we present to him?" (pp. 14- 15). With Centering Prayer the focus is on returning to the roots of early Christian prayer, especially in the Eastern church and the patristic traditions. Centering prayer combines the best features of this Eastern Christian practice in a blend of East and West that inspires personal Christian prayer today. Thomas Keating likewise explores the Eastern Christian roots of his contemplative heritage in Open Mind, Open Heart (Continuum, 1994). The book moves beyond discursive meditation and acts of devotion to the intuiti'~e level of contemplation. Keating surveys the history of contemplative prayer in the Christian tradition, and follows with step-by-step direction in the method of centering prayer. He manifests how such an approach opens one's mind and heart to the contemplative dimension of the gospel. His recent Intimacy with God (Crossroad, 1996) builds on his earlier volumes by summarizing material from talks he has given in more recent years to people ranging from advanced prac-titioners of centering prayer to persons just starting out. He con-tinues to provide a Christian alternative to the appeal of Asian practices. His conviction is that our journey into intimacy with God leads us "powerfully outward, toward the bonding that we call the Communion of Saints: the capacity to relate to one another with the unconditional love with which Christ relates to us" (p. 160)~ Keating's prayer instruction parallels the apophatic style of much Buddhist meditation. Christian Theology and Buddhism An outstanding Catholic interlocutor with the Buddhist tra-dition on a more speculative and theological level is the Jesuit Aloysius Pieris, who was the first non-Buddhist to receive the doc-torate in Buddhist studies in his native Sri Lanka. His Love Meets Wisdom: A Christian Experience of Buddhism (Orbis, 1988) consists of a series of essays which explore the social as well as the spiritual side of Buddhism, its political and its religious visions, and issues important to the ongoing Christian-Buddhist dialogue. Pieris thinks that Christians can learn from Buddhism, integrating their own prophetic teaching .of love with the Buddhist mystical appre-ciation of wisdom. If heart-to-heart dialogue is genuinely pur- Review for Religious sued, agapeic Christianity and gnostic Buddhism will be mutually complemented and enriched in an integration of compassionate wisdom that could transform the plight of the oppressed poor and of our threatened environment. Pieris's more recent Fire and VVater: Basic Issues in Asian Buddhism and Christianity (Orbis, 1996) further expands on these liberation themes. Current Contributions Such informed exchange between Catholic and Buddhist monastics continues to proliferate in current publications. Three particularly impressed me when I recently surveyed the literature. 1. The Ground We Share: Everyday Practice, Buddhist and Christian (Shambala, 1996) is a conversation between Zen roshi Robert Aitken and Benedictine monk David Steindl-Rast, edited by Nelson Foster. Their dialogue begins with everyday practice rather than with philosophical and theological concepts. The result of their intense and lively conversations was to uncover the com-mon ground of meditational experience that gives hope for fruitful exchanges between Christianity and Buddhism into the future. 2. In The Silent Dialogue: Zen Letters to a Trappist Abbot (Continuum, 1996), David G. Hackett corresponds with sev-eral Trappist monks of St. Joseph's Abbey in Spencer, Massachusetts, dur-ing the 1970s, particularly Abbot Thomas Keating. Mter Hackett's conversion to Catholicism, he set out on a two-year stay in Japan, where he experimented with how Zen practice could deepen his Christian prayer and spirituality. Abbot Keating proved himself a knowledgeable and astute guide in his comprehension and inte-gration of Eastern ways to Christian prayer, as we might have sus-pected from his own writings. 3. The Gethsernani Encounter: A Dialogue on the Spiritual Life by Buddhist and Christian Monastics (Continuum, 1997) captures the voices of some twenty-five Buddhist and twenty-five Christian monks and nuns in a discussion of their contemplative traditions Christians can learn from Buddhism, integrating their own prophetic teaching of love with the Buddhist mystical appreciation of wisdom. Januaty-Febtwa~y 1999 Bernadicou ¯ Catholic Guides in Dialogue at an historic meeting hosted by the Abbey of Gethsemani in Kentucky. The Dalai Lama, who first suggested the conference, also recommended that it be held at Gethsemani in memory of Thomas Merton, whom he had met just before Merton's untimely death while attending a similar Buddhist and Christian monastic exchange at Bangkok. Though scholars in the field of spirituality were present, the focus of the convocation was more expressly on the everyday practice of meditation and prayer in the two tradi-tions. What steps help to progress in meditative enlightenment? What does each tradition have to contribute to our profound human yearning for an encounter with ultimate reality? What can we say and how must we respond to the compassionate wisdom with which this encounter enlightens the seeker? Prescience and Continuing Hope Just before his tragic demise in 1968, Thomas Merton stated in the Temple of Understanding meeting in Calcutta: "I think we have reached a stage of [long-overdue] religious maturity at which it may be possible for someone to remain perfectly faithful to a Christian. commitment and yet to learn in depth from, say, a Buddhist or Hindu discipline and experience." Few realized at the time how prescient this provocative comment would sound nearly thirty years later at the 1996 Gethsemani gathering. Review for Religious BARBARA VALUCKAS Lithuanian and American Sisters: A Lively Inter°active Dance Lithuania, the geographical and cultural gateway to east-ern and central Europe, was the first Soviet republic to declare independence from the Soviet Union just as the last decade of this century began. Almost immediately, American sisters of Lithuanian birth or descent, and American sisters from other ethnic backgrounds as well, went to Lithuania to knit bonds of friendship with women who had been cut off from the, world of women religious during five decades of military occupation and brutal repression of the Catholic Church. Going in response to requests from the Lithuanian congregations,. they were sponsored by the Office to Aid Eastern and Central Europe, of the National Conference of Catholic Bishops (NCCB), by the Leadership Conference of Women Religious (LCWR), by the Hilton Fund for Sisters; and by many other organizations including their own congregations. The sisters gave canonical consultation on the adap-tation of constitutions, assisted in the formation of the Lithuanian Conference of Mfijor Superiors, gave pro-grams of theological updating and ongoing formation, and conducted retreats and days of recollection for sis-ters who could barely remember what these were. In Barbara Valuckas SSND wrote "Lithuania: A Return to My Ancestral Home" for our May-June 1995 issue. Her address is Pilgrim Ministries, Inc.; 9 Academy Hill; Watertown, Connecticut 06795. Januao,-l~¥btvtary 1999 Valuckas ¯ Lithuanian and American Sisters the early days of this lively dance, the Lithuanian sisters encour-aged their American counterparts to take the lead although their United States partners learned innumerable steps from them. By 1997 the dance was well along, but the partners were begin-ning to shift places. In January 1997, while I was in Lithuania conducting a program evaluation, the president of the Conference of Major Superiors described plans for the first Congress of Lithuanian Sisters, to be held the following August. When I asked her about the main purpose of the congress, she' replied in two simple but profound words, "We exist!" To be able to affirm this after experiencing decades of efforts to exterminate religion and religious persons from Lithuania was a touching testimony to the deep faith and high courage of the Lithuanian sisters. Some months later, those of us who had worked with the sis-ters in Lithuania received invitations to attend the congress as guests. The invitations were addressed to "you, who have walked with us from the beginning." Our joyful response to this invitation brought us to Kaunas, the old capital of Lithuania, to be enthusi-astic onlookers as the Lithuanian sisters celebrated their own dance of survival and hope for the future. The theme of the congress was "the past, the present, and the future." The president of the Conference of Major Superiors, who had herself experienced years of surveillance by the KGB, recounted the sisters' sufferings during the years of occupation. One of her most startling revelations, however, was this: At the beginning of the occupation, there were seven congregations in Lithuania; at the end of the five decades of attempted annihilation, there were twenty-four! Some of this multiplication was due to the success-ful efforts of KGB infiltrators to fragment the existing congrega-tions, but much of it was due to the clandestine formation of new congregations. God provided for the future of the church through the courage of women who received their entire formation in secret. The several hundred sisters who attended the congress included older sisters who had entered established congregations before the occupation, sisters who had entered existing or new congregations secretly during the occupation, and sisters who had entered the various congregations since independence. These three groupings have had very different experiences of religious life, and yet they face together the challenge of bringing religious life in Lithuania into the future. Review for Religions This will mean facing and moving through the problems of the present. The speakers at the congress were very honest in naming these problems. They are not very different from the ones facing women religious in the West, although the historical context and hence the resolutions may be somewhat different. Some of the main issues identified by speakers at the congress were public wit-ness, community life, and just compensation. Public Witness As in the West, the sisters in Lithuania are grappling with the question of what it means to give public witness. At this point, much of this issue is being discussed in terms of the religious habit. Almost all of the sisters attending the congress wore habits even though they had not ordinarily done so. That is, as an American sis-ter of Lithuanian origin pointed out to us, most of the congregations had never worn habits because they had been formed during the occupation, when habits were forbidden. When Pope John Paul II visited Lithuania in 1993, however, the sisters were asked to come to their meeting with him in the cathedral wearing habits. So the sisters created habits on the spot and appeared before the Holy Father wearing them. They wore them again for the congress. The bishops who were present at the congress and some of the sister speakers expressed the wish that the sisters wear their religious dress at all times. It is worth noting that, unlike the sisters in the West, the women religious in occupied Lithuania were forced to give up their habits and their ministries overnight. Their change to sec-ular dress had not come about from reflection on the Vatican II documents and on the relationship of religious life to culture. By forcing the religious to put their habits away, the occupiers made the church virtually invisible overnight. Now the church hopes to regain its visibility, and wearing the habit or not is a central question. It will have to be resolved from within the lived experi-ence of the Lithuanian sisters, although they have been very inter- As in the West, the sisters in Lithuania are grappling with the question of what it means to give public witness. January-February 1999 Valuckas ¯ Lithuanian and American Sisters ested in learning from the sisters of the West how the habit issue wasrdealt with and resolved. Community Life o Along with their habits, the various congregations lost their buildings, their communal spaces, overnight. Many religious women were forced out onto the streets and lived there or in fields or barns until they were able to find work and lodging. All through the years of occupation, they lived in little flats with one Or two other sisters or with relatives and friends, wherever they could find a place. Now, although somd of the congregations have begun to get their property back from the government, many are still without a common space. Some of the sisters are afraid to form communities again because they have forgotten how to live com-munity life. Others are eager to try it, but feel the need for help in the skills of building community together. The middle group of sisters--those whose formation was clan-destine-- is numerically the smallest; this leaves the elderly sisters and the newest members trying to negotiate a common life :across the barriers of age and extremely different life experiences, Some of the speakers at the congress referred to these cross-genera-tional tensions and pleaded for patience and more effort to deal with them in the process of building community. A special difficulty faces the sisters who have not received' their property back or who never had common property to begin with. The elderly sisters in these congregations live in tiny flats scattered around the cities and villages. They are often dependent on the younger members for both financial support and physi-cal care. It is not uncommon for young sisters to finish a day's work only to begin visiting the individual elderly sisters, bathing them, shopping for them, and providing for other needs of theirs. These younger members are also expected to contribute their services to the growing ministries of a church that has emerged from the underground and seeks to make its voice heard ~in the culture once again. While these conditions are not directly com-parable to conditions in the West, assuring that younger mem-bers have time and space for their own formation and are not unduly burdened with maintenance issues is a Western concern as well. This situation is related to another issue narried by the Lithuanian sisters. ~ Review for Religious. Just Compensation Now that the church is free to operate in the open, the sisters are expected to give time and energy to parish ministries, catech-esis, and so forth. This is usually in addition to their full-time work in the secular economy, which provides the sustenance they and the elderly members in their care need. Speakers at the congress acknowledged the heavy burden placed on the sisters because, to date, their work for the church has gone largely uncompensated. Some speakers indicated that questions have been raised among church officials about why sisters need salaries or pensions. All of this would be very familiar to sisters from the West. Common Questions, Other Questions, Other Steps Given the similarity of the issues facing women religious in both East and West in spite of their cultural and historical differ-ences, one would assume that the dance that began at the begin-ning of this decade could go on for a long time, growing more unified as it moved into: the future. This, however, may not be the case because other dancers have moved into the space in an effort to change the dance into another kind of movement. Some of this change of step has come into Lithuania in the form of newspapers and magazines that portray women religious and reli-gious life in the West as quite degenerate. Some has come in the form of living persons. In informal conversations at the congress, some of the Lithuanian sisters spoke of making a retreat during the summer at which the retreat master gave considerable time to frightening descriptions of religious life in the West. The Lithuanian sisters heard, for example, that sisters in the West had no prayer life and that they had boyfriends. These insinuations had the effect of sowing doubt and suspicion even in sisters who had had very pos-itive experiences of the American sisters who had worked with them directly. Some of the bishops and sister speakers at the congress were quick to warn the Lithuanian sisters about negative influences from the West, especially about feminism and about failure to adhere to the teachings of the church. That some of these warnings came from the very leaders who had invited the American sisters to attend the congress may be a sign of the confusion and ambivalence toward the West that is Janua~y-Febtvlary 1999 Valuckas ¯ Lithuanian and American Sisters In every multicultural dance, there are tensions and always the danger of stepping on one another's cherished values. becoming more prevalent, not only in Lithuania, but in other countries of eastern and central Europe as well. One sister speaker exhorted the Lithuanian sisters to cling to the values of their own religious heritage and not to "turn jewels into stones." Although the majority of the grass-roots Lithuanian sisters begged'us to return to continue sharing experiences with them, seeds of doubt and uncertainty had been sown in their hearts by their own lead-ership. Since the years of occupation and Soviet-style education conditioned most Lithuanians not to trust anyone, these seeds may be falling on soil that is still receptive to doubt and mistrust. An example of this occurred during and after the congress. Speakers represent-ing both the bishops' confer-ence and the superiors' conference stressed the serious need for Lithuanian sisters to be trained in the skills of spir-itual guidance and spiritual formation of others. In fact, the sisters who had attended our workshops in earlier years had, in their evaluations, requested training in these skills. Yet our offer to pro-vide this very kind of assistance with highly trained sisters from the United States was met sometimes with polite silence and some-times with suspicious questions. In such circumstances, it is only natural to wonder about the future direction of the dance. In every multicultural dance, there are tensions and always the danger of stepping on one another's cherished values. It is clear that the Lithuanian sisters need to find their own way, a way that is true to who they are. They need to be able to say "We exist!" not just about their survival through a difficult past, but also about the present and the future. Part of that existence, however, is going to be in an increasingly interde-pendent world. If the "We exist!" is for the future, it may mean enlarging the phrase to "We exist together!" The fact that the Lithuanian con-gregations were able to move from relying on their own congre-gations to creating an intercongregational formation committee is a sign that, given time and trust, they have the inner resources to Review for Religious move to a larger "we." The initiation of this intercongregational committee had, in fact, been inspired by the intercongregational nature of the teams of American sisters who had come to work with them. The Lithuanian sisters quickly saw that a larger "we" was not only possible but very rich in its possibilities for a happy sharing of many various gifts. We sisters from the West, on the other hand, need to keep remembering that our "we" is not the only "we" in the world. We need to be willing to look at the fears and suspicions about us. To the extent that they are justified, we need to allow ourselves to be called to conversion of heart and life. To the extent that they are not, we need to live with integrity and truth and to search patiently and mutually for new dance steps. Perhaps it is in our conversion of heart together that the Spirit will lead us all in a new dance of interdependence. Dispossessed Who believing would not hope? the child asked herself, dismantling in one stroke a holy triad. But stay, time-taught. It always does. Faith came easy. She was born believing unseen worlds. ¯ And lo~? Without it, there'd be chaos. As for hope? That limpid bird fled, sickened with the weight of errant expectation-- until finally the woman lay down and cried and cried and cried and cried-- while faith and love held hands and waited. Maryanne Casey Hannan .Tanaa~y-Febtvtao, 1999 ANN WHITE Serpents and Doves:, The Company of St. Ursula I n Quebec City, high above the St. Lawrence River, some eligious women live behind a cedar fence in a convent, sup-posedly set apart from the world. Yet the world of New France, as it existed nearly four hundred years ago, comes to them every single day in the persons of innumerable Amerindians. Who could possibly tell where these women's religious life leaves off and worldly life begins? We divide life into the sacred and the secular, and have done so since the 16th century, when Reformers who thought and prayed under dull northern skies became 'disengaged from the ideas of Renaissance painters and explorers and princes of Europe's sunlit south. Ever since, we have distinguished the worldly--rev-elers and artists and livers of free lifestyles--from religious peo-ple who go to church, pray, do good works. This division blurs the truth about people in both categories, sacrecl and secular. Consider the Company of St. Ursula, a boldly daring 16th-century Roman Catholic women's community. In the Ursulines' lives, religion and worldly adventure mixed inseparably. But Ursulines do not appear in secular books that tell adventure sto-ries. Ursulines show up in books about religion, written in sober words that mask the daring quality of their thoughts and acts. The Ursulines first caught my attention in Quebec City, where their convent has stood in the Rue Donnacona since the 17th century. As I gazed at the convent's faqade, I wondered why Ann White has a Ph.D. in history and teaches at the Edmund Burke School in Washington. Her address is 5130 Connecticut Avenue, N.W., apt. 203; Washington, D.C. 20008. Review for Religious any woman would give up cultivated, comfortable French life for the frigid wilderness of Quebec. My guidebook said the nuns came to found a girls' school. Everyone knows the name of Samuel de Champlain, the explorer who established the first French settle-ment at Quebec City, but how many know the name of the woman who started the first girls' school in the Nev~ World? She was Marie Guyart, member of the Order of St. Ursula, who arrived in Canada from Tours, France, in 1639. Her name fails to appear in books about explorers' and pioneers' adventures because those are "secular" stories. Yet Marie Guyart was a pioneer. Starting a girls' school anywhere in the 17th century was a pioneering act, and starting a school in the New World for girls of warring Amerindian tribes required a large dollop of pioneering bravery. Not only Marie Guyart's physical bravery impressed me, but also her idea of adventuring in unknown spaces. She had never traveled outside the Touraine region of France, yet as she sat in her convent she pictured herself in what she called the "vastitudes" of New France. "My body was in our monastery, but my spirit was tied to that of Jesus and could not be enclosed," she said. What did she know about Canadian vastitudes? Practically noth-ing. She had never heard the word "Canada" until four years before she departed for its frosty landscape. But being enclosed within four walls of a convent in Tours did not prevent her from imagining herself founding "a -house for Jesus and Mary" in an unknown land across a vast ocean. Marie Guyart acquired her expansive, daring cast of mind from her Ursuline company, who inherited it from their founder, Angela Merici. As much a child of the Italian Renaissance as Christopher Columbus, Angela Merici founded the Ursulines just forty-three years after Columbus's first voyage. Columbus, says one of his biographers, combined Christian faith with an impulse toward expansion. We ignore the faith, concentrate on the expan-sion, and place him in our secular category. Angela Merici pos-sessed the same Renaissance combination of faith and expansiveness as Columbus, but we ignore her expansiveness, con-centrate on her faith, and pop her into our religious pigeonhole. Angela Merici did not found the Ursulines until she was in her sixties. A farmer's daughter from northern Italy, she spent years working with a group of lay Christians to relieve misery brought to Brescia, a city near her birthplace, by the French inva-sion of Italy. She helped to organize orphanages and refuges for January-February 1999 White ¯ Serpents and Doves prostitutes, and she worked in a hospital for incurables, the only hospital that would accept Brescia's increasing numbers of syphil-itics. By the time Angela Merici traveled to the Holy Land around age fifty, her skills at helping the sick and the poor were well known--so well known that, when she stopped in Venice on her way home from Palestine, the city fathers asked her to remain there and organize charitfible works in their city. She said no. Furthermore, she left Venice immediately, so that they could not ask the archbishop to command her to stay. Soon afterwards she went to Rome, where once, again there came a request to borrow her skills. This time the pope himself, Clement vii, who asked her to remain and organize charitable works in his city. Surely this was an offer that Angela Merici could not refuse. Any "religious" woman would say yes to the pope, would she not? Angela Merici said no. Her Renaissance mind fit no pigeon-hole. She went back to Brescia to formulate a vision as expansive in its own way as Columbus's vision. Her company of women, named after a 3rd-century patron of young scholars, would be the first Christian company dedicated to instructing young girls. They would also tend the sick. These female teacher-work(rs would live in the world. No medieval convent walls would constrain them; they would freely walk the streets of north Italian cities from Milan to Venice. This Ursuline plan ignored religious/secular categorizing. Though Angela Merici never met her contemporary Martin Luther, her mind grasped the same idea that his mind grasped, a very old Christian idea, that the church's lay people--worldly, sec~ ular people--hear God's call as clearly as the clergy, the church's religious people. Angela Merici created an institution that blended the religious and the worldly. A young woman joining the Company of St. Ursula would pledge herself to virginity, but she would not live in a convent and she would not wear a habit. She would live at home with her family as she taught girls and tended the sick. Before Angela Merici's time, young women faced a stark, secular-versus-sacred choice: they could marry or they could enter a convent. Angela Merici's Ursuline plan gave them another option: pursuing useful work in the world while maintaining a religious identity. Habits of religious pigeonholing make us see Angela Merici, with her piety and good works, as blandly "religious," while we ignore her extraordinary worldly shrewdness. Not only did she Review f!~r Religious have enough sense of her own purpose to spurn a pope's offer, not only did she single-handedly offer devout European young women a new vocational opportunity, but she also obtained a papal decree permitting members of her company to hold a dowry from their families just as securely as if they were marrying or entering a convent. Moreover, her Testament for the Ursulines' four-woman board of directors shows she understood that her young women would face changing circumstances in the future: "If, according to times and needs, new rules should be made, or any change introduced, do it prudently and with good advice." It was with such worldly sagacity that Angela Merici deployed her Christian faith in 16th-century Italy. She shows us what Jesus meant when he told his disciples they needed to be wise as serpents and innocent as doves. Angela Merici's "religious" accom-plishment is incomprehensible without an understanding of her "secular" insight. ~ As her Ursulines spread throughout northern Italy and into France over the next half century, people with a pigeonholing men-tality-- churchmen, parents of Ursulines, and Ursulines them-selves-- changed the company's organization into something more recognizably religious. When Marie Guyart became an Ursuline in 1631, less than a hundred years after the first Ursulines signed their names in a book in Brescia, she entered a convent and, she donned a habit. The Company of St. Ursula, contrary to Angela Merici's vision, by Marie Guyart's time had become a religious order like other religious orders. Yet even in a convent Marie Guyart shared Angela Merici's expansive Renaissance spirit as she thought about the danger of dying from hunger and cold or at the hands of Canadian savages. These considerations, she said, made "no change at all in the dis-position of my spirit." "Secular" explorers like Champlain were plainly not the only people in 17th-century France who dreamed great, daring dreams. In New France (whose soil she kissed upon her arrival), Marie Guyart continued to live according to the rule of enclosure. She Angela Merici's Ursuline plan gave another option: pursuing useful work in the world while maintaining a religious identity. Januaty-Febt'uaty 1999 lq/'Isite ¯ Serpents and Doves This mixing of sacred and secular in the Canadian convent yard was part of Marie Guyart's theology. and her fellow Ursulines lived in convent buildings set within a large yard on the promontory overlooking the St. Lawrence River. They stayed within the yard's cedar fence, obeying their religious rule about not going out into the "world." But this enclosure was very different from the Tours convent for Marie Guyart: In New France the woodland world came to her: Algonquins, Montagnais, and Hurons; Abenakis, Nipissings, and Attikamegues; Iroquois girls sent by their mothers to learn the elements of the Christian faith. Twenty to fifty young girls lived in a boarding school that the Ursulines established within their convent walls. Amerindian men also visited the convent, for a meal or for instruction or simply to find out what went on there. Marie Guyart wrote, "I see generous and brave captains on their knees at my feet, begging me to have them pray to God before they eat." Moreover, this mixing of sacred and sec-ular in the Canadian convent yard was part of Marie Guyart's theology. She not only wel-comed inhabitants of Canada's woodland world to her convent, but also saw her savage Christian converts as every bit as religious as those labeled religious, the Ursulines and Jesuits in New France. "A savage confesses just as well as a reli-gious," she said. The Jesuits emphasized how hard it was for Amerindian Christians to behave the way they thought Christians should behave; Marie Guyart saw in them the full capacity for Christianity. The converts' devotion, she said, reminded her of the Christians of the early church. So what do these moments of Ursuline history--the lives of Angela Mericiand Marie Guyart--show us? That enclosure in a convent is bad? That the Ursulines-were more progressive than ,other Catholic groups because at first they spurned convent life? By no means. Ursuline history shows us Christian life without religious/secular categories: Angela Merici taking advantage of Renaissance Italy's expansive spirit to create an effective vehicle .for faith; Marie Guyart joining Christ among the Amerindians while living in a convent. Jesus did not say, be a serpent or a dove, choose between the secular and the sacred. He said, achieve worldly wisdom and reli- Review for Religious gious innocence, both at the same time. The famous figures who lived five hundred years ago, at the birth of the modern age, do not fit our narrow classification scheme of religious versus secular. Emperor Charles v was as much a man of faith as he was an effi-cient 16th-century ruler. Martin Luther was as much poet as priest--so much the poet that, in the judgment of one Reformation historian, if he had lived in another age he would have produced an epic rather than a new church. Michelangelo's art fused his awe of human beauty with his awe of the greatness of God. Nonetheless, we are in the habit of relentlessly classifying these people--the "religious" writer, the "secular" politician, the "sec-ular" artist--missing the breadth of their persons and the com-plexity of their accomplishments. Not so rigidly fixed in our minds as these famous figures, Angela Merici and Marie Guyart will fly right out of their religious pigeonhole if we let them. The two Ursulines were wise enough to take advantage of Renaissance Europe's expansive spirit, faith-ful enough to take big risks for Christ. Their lives overmatch our narrow categories of secular and sacred. Each was worldly and religious, both serpent and dove at the very same time. "But you, who do you say that I am?" (Matthew 16:15) Not in wisdoms Echoed from borrowed minds, Nor in quick phrases Caught and snatched and etched On today's tongues, Not even in the warm whispers Patterned on a mother's speech, A teacher's truth, A prophet's cry. Who do you say that I am When only you are left to form the words? When only I am left to listen? Suzanne Mayer IHM JanuaL'F-FebruaO, 1999 XAVIER PLISSART The Art of Discernment: The Aesthetic Dimension In this paper I discuss what I call the aesthetic dimen-sion of the art of discernment. I want to show that dis-cernment is an attempt to enter into the original divine creative dynamism for the whole of creation. This attempt is itself a creative activity aimed at realizing creation's original harmony. Since the whole of creation shares the same source and is directed towards the same goal, discernment should ideally be a striving towards communality. Consequently, a basic and essential qual-ity of discernment is that it should strive to be as com-mon as possible in its insight and process, and as universal as possible in its aim toward action. Theological Foundation Creation The initial insight for spiritual discernment is that God is active in our world, that creation is dynamic. The original goodness that God imparted to creation is more a life than a state: divine life continues to be breathed into the whole of creation. Essentially, discernment is a matter of seeing more accurately where and how this Xavier Plissart M_Mr has done formation work and taught in various African countries. He is currently attached to the Centre de Recherche et de Documentation Africaine. His address is: Bukavu, R~p. D~m. du Congo; B.P. 333, Cyangugu; Rwanda (Africa). Review for Religious divine "inspiration" is operative. The effort to see this depends upon our having the faith conviction that God's creativity in our regard is a genuine invitation to participate in divine life, an invi-tation that recognizes the full validity of creation's "otherness." The faith insight above applies to the totality of creation. Everything created proclaims in some way the fullness of divine life. But the proclamation acquires a special significance when we turn to. humans beings, for it depends upon their receiving an invitation to proclaim God's life and their conscious responding to it. Created in the image of God (imago Dei), we in turn become creative through our free response. We have the imagination (in Hebrew, yetzer) that makes it possible for us to integrate our actions in the flow of divine creativity, or not. Consequently, it is important for us to discern and decide how we shall orient our life and direct our actions. Context and History Divine dynamism has been at work in creation from the begin-ning, and human consciousness, responding in various ways, has shaped our world until the present day. We must, therefore, be fully conscious of the past. Discernment always implies looking back (if we use visual imagery) or listening (if we use acoustic imagery). God's conversation with the world and with humankind results in what we live and experience today. At the most personal level, St. Ignatius Loyola advises retreatants of the Spiritual Exercises to examine regularly the content and flow of their spir-itual life and life of prayer. Many religious persons and commu-nities today have gained great benefit from what is called "life review" to see God at work in their own history. It is also common practice now to try to "read" the "signs of the times" to see the underlying current. Believers find God at work, but unbelievers alike may discover the dynamism of creative energy with which they want to connect. Believing that God has been and is active in the world, we see, too, that we have the creative potential to go with or against this divine activity. In the Spiritual Exercises Ignatius describes in detail how one can become aware of inner movements that are aligned with the divine plan or that militate against it. This takes place in a context of faith and in an atmosphere of prayer. His analysis of consolations and desolations has served as a guide for many. Recently, however, spiritual writers have felt the need to widen the Plissart ¯ The Art of Discernment field of application. When we become more keenly aware of all the areas in which the Spirit of God is at work, it becomes evident that we must try to widen our horizon if we want to obtain a more accu-rate idea of God's action, a wiser discernment. Consolations and Desolations Revisited Ignatius himself implicitly recognizes the need for an inter-personal attentiveness to the Spirit when he advises that discern-ment should take place with the guidance of a spiritual director. Today we would include here the validity and even necessity of discussing the matter with one's spouse (if one is married) or a uniquely close "soul friend." An uneasiness in the friend or spouse might be a sign of desolation, and both persons would do well to become aware of it in the effort to find the will of God. Ignatius speaks of taking into account the position of the church. If with Vatican ~I we see the church as the people of God, our attentiveness to God's presence becomes broader and much more varied. Tensions in a community could well be interpreted as "desolation," or gratuitous excitement as false "consolation." We could and should make use of the well-developed techniques of group dynamics and see how a discerning insight might help us to perceive more clearly whether the movements animating a par-ticular group are from God. The vision we speak of here comes from faith; it can be of advantage only to individuals and groups that genuinely want to follow the Lord. Similarly, in discernment we do well to explore critically the meaning of divisions, resentments, estrangements, and insensi-tivity within ecclesial structures and institutions to see how these "motions" speak to us of God's creative or challenging activity in our world. Can we say that controversies on, say, contraception or feminism have nothing.to tell us about the divine activity in our world and in the hearts and minds of God's own people? I believe that an unwillingness to see the significance of such "movements" would represent a dire lack of a discerning spirit. Jon Sobrino, Enrique Dussel, J.B. Libanio, and others have shown clearly how, as we find ourselves confronted with a theol-ogy of domination, we must take into account the sociopolitical reality in order to make a valid discernment. The option for the poor which theologians of liberation advocate is not just another theological position. It is the result of a careful reading of the core message of Jesus in its relationship with the social reality. Review for Religions As the Quakers tell us, the "light of God" is also present and active beyond the confines of the circle of Christian believers. Indeed, this was also recognized in the documents of Vatican II. So we will have to .learn to discern how God speaks through the political debates of our present age, through intercultural struggles, through the economic and ecological issues of our world, and through people's search for a cosmic spirituality. Would we not say that people's uneasi-ness when faced with news ¯ items depicting poverty can be a sign of "desolation" calling for conversion and a change ¯ of heart? Would we not say that people's fear of an atomic disaster can~ be understood as a sign of "desolation" in a world which gives priority to war over peace? Would we not say that the renewed interest and practice of meditation of all kinds is a sign of "consolation" in a rediscovery of the importance of the inner world? The first, step in this reflection has brought us to the conclu-sion that, if we truly believe that God's Spirit. is indeed active in the world and if our aim is to integrate our decisions and actions as perfectly as possibly into this creative dynamism, then we will have to widen considerably the scope of our attentiveness to the divine presence. Our discerning of God's ~vill seems ~to bring us much further than it used to, well beyond the realm of personal spiritual life. No more can we think of attaining holiness through a private imitation of Christ (see Castillo). What we have examined is the first aspect of discernment, the "listening" element. It corresponds to what is called in Ignatian spirituality the "discernment of spirits" and also, in the Quaker tradition, to the simple prayer meeting. The regular practice of such discernment helps people to be more aware of God's pres-ence in their life. But it should also help friends or groups to a vision of where God is leading them communally. It can give us an insight into God's guidance for the church, for society, and indeed for the whole world. Acquiring such a common insight will be of great advantage in tackling the second aspect of discernment which we examine below. Tensions in a community could well be interpreted as "desolation," or gratuitous excitement as false "consolation." January-FebtvtaD, 1999 Plissart ¯ The Art of Discernment Anthropological Foundation: How Do We Decide? The Point of Entry Insight into the divine activity is not just an academic exercise. We have already indicated above that it has a very clear purpose. We do not "listen" to the voice of God simply to admire its har-monic quality. We want to add our voice to the symphony. Peters clarifies the distinction between discernment and elec-tion, but goes too far when he says that "the method [of election] is a way of finding the will of God, and has nothing to do with dis-cerning movements" (p. 30). Our insight into God's creative activ-ity inevitably challenges us to a response. Thus we seek not only to hear God's voice, but to discern God's will. This becomes a direct call. The general inspiration which we have discerned ini-tially takes shape gradually and becomes a specific invitation. This is where we move from a "discernment of spirits" to a process of election: we are faced with alternatiyes, and we have to make a choice. What is happening is that we become aware of a krisis, a fork in the road. This requires a diakrisis: deciding which way to go. The process of decision is always situated existentially, and it is good, indeed important, to know the path that has led to it, the approach to the point of entry. Ignatian spirituality has clarified the process itself, but has not specified precisely the scope of what to consider. In the Spiritual Exercises lgnatius's guidance in the pro-cess of election seems to be directed mainly to an individual mak-ing a decision about his or her future state of life. But commentators indicate that the principles are not restricted to such instances. Since Ignatius and his companions use similar prin-ciples for many of their decisions, it would seem that the process of election is applicable to all levels of human decision. This is indeed to be expected if we are fully aware of divine invitations at all levels of human activity. So we have to widen the scope here also. The most obvious level of decision making is that of the con-scious self. It concerns an action for which .one will be directly and personally responsible. But not many decisions, if any, are totally private. So the interpersonal is nearly always present in decision making. It is then a decision that affects those who are involved in a relationship, and we would expect that the process of discernment would implicate all participants. Decisions concern-ing close friendship and marriage are good examples of this, and Review for Religious one can widen the scope to community decisions, family deci-sions, and so forth. The moment of decision, the need for discernment, may not be obvious when persons reflect and discern purely as individuals, but may become obvious on the social level and then brought down to the personal. Good examples of this would be an eco-nomic crisis or a population crisis, each with its repercussions on the life of the community, the family, and the individual. Still wider areas of decision may involve cultural changes, religious or institu-tional sclerosis, or natural disasters. These will require decision-making processes that have a wide place of entry, but do not ignore personal elements (which are never absent). In these areas Ren~ Simon's reflection on the relationship between law and discernment is helpful. The process of election will be very different, but the basic elements will be these: insight based on some interpretative belief, examination of the challenge by means of dialogue, and proiection towards the realm of action for assess-ment and choice. With regard to the charismatic role of discern-ment in relation to institutional sclerosis, Ladislaus Boros makes the following interesting remark: "The charismatic and underiv-able aspect is essential to the church, .for God has never retired, as it were, in favor of the official ecclesial administration. Nor has he abdicated in favor of the guidance of the Holy Spirit given to the higher and highest instances of.the church. God himself is the Spirit [see Jn 3:8] blowing 'where it listeth,' [blowing] alike on children and idiots, the poor and simple, and theologians of all kinds" (p. 78). Clearly we are dealing here with a widening continuum. Division into sections is arbitrary. Yet there appear to be both an inner limit to this continuum and an outer one, limits beyond which we seem to lose control. At the inner limit we enter so deeply into the self that the processes become unconscious. The creative dynamism is still active, but escapes our grasp. Eastern religions (Hinduism and Buddhism) and perhaps certain forms of Christian mysticism situate our connection to the absolute at this level. At the outer limit we grope toward the immensity of the cosmos and fail to grasp it. This time it is the far heavens that are beyond us. Within these two limits we can set the realm and scope The interpersonal is nearly always present in decision making. Januaty-Febrnaty 1999 Plissart ¯ The Art of Discernment of responsible praxis, the point of application of the process of discernment leading to action. The Question of Universality We are now becoming more aware that any discernment in a process of election has repercussions at all levels. Wherever. the stone may fall, it creates ripples over the whole surface of the lake. Decisions involve the same universal creative dynamism, and they have effects that resound through the whole realm of responsible praxis. This would seem to make the task of discernment abso-lutely daunting: What attitude, then, can we take? Many spiritual writers indicate that discernment does not lead to certainty. This is something we must accept at all stages of the process. We try to examine God's creative and dynamic presencefin our life, in the life of others', in our society and culture, in the world as a whole. But our point of view is inevitably limited. We try to take into account the flow of our own life from the moment of birth, or the flow of history in our communal, eccesial, or social context, but we cannot see the whole picture. Then when a prob-lem occurs, when the moment of decision arises, we try to situate ourselves in this picture, to ga~ther all possible data that might be relevant, but we can see only a few elements and have.,to be con-tent with that. We want to listen to as many people as possible because each one can give us a useful insight into the light of God that illurfiines our search, but there is always more light beyond, which we cannot fathom. We do not want to be biased; we want to be "indifferent" and try to avoid undue influences from our own background, from our s6cial or physical environment, and so forth, but we cannot extract ourselves from our own existence. We may try to see the consequences of a certain decision so as to make a better assessment, but we can see only that far, and no further. Clearly we cannot take everything into account. One rather unsatisfactory way in which this problem has usu-ally been solved, at least at the practical level, was to look at the process simply from its point of entry. For instance, if the issue was to decide about my own vocation, I would simply examine what my decision on this should be in the context of my life, and leave other decisions to be made by others, for example, church offi-cials, parents, civil authority, and so forth. Or, if the issue involved natural science--whether, for example, .to continue to develop nuclear technology--scientists would limit themselves to the sci- Revibw for Religious entific possibility and expediency and leave civil rulers to decide on the social consequences. In a sense there may be a vision of faith in such a position. If each person decides validly within his or her restricted level of insight, can we not trust the original cre-ative dynamism to realize the harmony that is its aim? Perhaps. But I believe that the above position has far too often been interpreted in a minimalist way. I believe that it is defeatist and dangerous. I believe that a true vision of faith will require of us that we try to achieve as wide a scope as possible. Therefore, at the close of this paper I would like to advocate a maximalist inter-pretation of the question I raised in the previous paragraph. The Criterion of Harmony Common Discernment Spiritual discernment and discernment in view of making a decision according to the divine will have always been considered an art. This is an implicit acceptance of the tentative value of the conclusions that are reached. But at the same time it points to the totality of impact of any decision within the whole creative flow. Our attentiveness to God's voice in our life and in the world cannot be restrictive. It must always tend to its widest possible scope. Only then can the full impact of divine creativity be recog-nized and accepted. The search for the divine will in any particular instance, and the attempt to discern which course of action would best coincide with that divine will, must situate the process of examination as widely as possible. I emphasize that it is" in the measure in which this is attempted and achieved that the dis-cernment will be a valid one and that global harmony will be fos-tered. Some examples will show this more in detail. A young woman aware of God's presence in her life, believes she is called to serve God in a special way. She enters a process of discernment to find out whether and how she should respond to such an invitation. Clearly, at least three groups will have to be involved in her discernment process to make it valid. First, she will have to consult with family and friends. The decision would Our attentiveness to God's voice in our life and in the world cannot be restrictive. January-February 1999 Plissart ¯ The Art of Discernment change not only her life, but also their relationship with her. Second, the new group she wants to join will have to be part of the discernment too, since the decision means that the group will or will not go through the change of integrating her into their circle. Third, the discernment will involve the church in which the com-mitment would be made, since her decision will occur in that con-text. Traditionally, each group of people would make their own dis-cernment and, if no consensus was reached, the final say would be settled through the exercise of authority. Yet it seems evident that a greater harmony could be achieved if each group would in some way participate in a common process of discernment. The young woman can dialogue with family and friends about her pos-sible vocation. She can dialogue with the new group to see how her decision would affect her and them. Members of the group can meet her family and exchange opinions on the project, church officials could speak with representatives of the group about the decision, and so forth. If each participant is genuinely searching for guidance from above, the. decision-making process itself and the outcome of it will foster harmony among these people. Such coop-eration will witness to divine creativity at work. Another example. A local religious community wants to decide whether to continue its insertion into a depressed urban area or take on another responsibility. Traditionally, they go through a process of discernment as a group while their superiors also con-sider the decision. Though the local church community might be implicated in the decision, it might not be consulted. When groups arrive at opinions separately, tension easily arises if and when sep-arately formed opinions do not coincide. Here again a common discernment process--at various levels according to possibilities-- would undoubtedly foster harmony: Let the local religious group and the local Christian community meet and exchange on the pro-ject. Let superiors come and .discuss the issue with the local reli-gious community. Let all persons in the several groups be given a chance to go through their personal discernment process in dia-logue with each other. Let the local church authorities dialogue with the group of religious and with the local Christian commu-nity, and so forth. Let the participants allow, in each of these encounters, the Spirit of God to illumine their hearts and minds through the contributions of others. Thereby they will witness to. God's creation of, respect for, and empowering of people who Review for Religious have wonderful differences among themselves. In doing so they will certainly create harmony. A final example. A number of homeless people have occupied a derelict building and are now threatened with eviction because the area must be transformed into a recreation ground. The home-less people refuse to leave. Some local pastors support them in the name of the gospel. The local politician is under pres-sure because the potential inv

Flora Ogan, August 7, 2013 ; Business at the Crossroads - Ogden City is a project to collect oral histories related to changes in the Ogden business district since World War II. From the 1870s to World War II, Ogden was a major railroad town, with nine rail systems. With both east-west and north-south rail lines, business and commercial houses flourished as Ogden became a shipping and commerce hub. ; The following is an oral history interview with Flora Ogan. The interview was conducted on August 7, 2013, by Avery Pince. Flora discusses her experiences with 25th Street. ; 26p.; 29cm.; 2 bound transcripts; 4 file folders. 1 videodisc: digital; 4 3/4 in. ; Oral History Program Flora Ogan Interviewed by Avery Pince 7 August 2013 Oral History Program Weber State University Stewart Library Ogden, Utah Flora Ogan Interviewed by Avery Pince 7 August 2013 Copyright © 2014 by Weber State University, Stewart Library Mission Statement The Oral History Program of the Stewart Library was created to preserve the institutional history of Weber State University and the Davis, Ogden and Weber County communities. By conducting carefully researched, recorded, and transcribed interviews, the Oral History Program creates archival oral histories intended for the widest possible use. Interviews are conducted with the goal of eliciting from each participant a full and accurate account of events. The interviews are transcribed, edited for accuracy and clarity, and reviewed by the interviewees (as available), who are encouraged to augment or correct their spoken words. The reviewed and corrected transcripts are indexed, printed, and bound with photographs and illustrative materials as available. Archival copies are placed in Special Collections. The Stewart Library also houses the original recording so researchers can gain a sense of the interviewee's voice and intonations. Project Description Business at the Crossroads - Ogden City is a project to collect oral histories related to changes in the Ogden business district since World War II. From the 1870s to World War II, Ogden was a major railroad town, with nine rail systems. With both east-west and north-south rail lines, business and commercial houses flourished as Ogden became a shipping and commerce hub. After World War II, the railroad business declined. Some government agencies and businesses related to the defense industry continued to gravitate to Ogden after the war—including the Internal Revenue Regional Center, the Marquardt Corporation, Boeing Corporation, Volvo-White Truck Corporation, Morton-Thiokol, and several other smaller operations. However, the economy became more service oriented, with small businesses developing that appealed to changing demographics, including the growing Hispanic population. ____________________________________ Oral history is a method of collecting historical information through recorded interviews between a narrator with firsthand knowledge of historically significant events and a well-informed interviewer, with the goal of preserving substantive additions to the historical record. Because it is primary material, oral history is not intended to present the final, verified, or complete narrative of events. It is a spoken account. It reflects personal opinion offered by the interviewee in response to questioning, and as such it is partisan, deeply involved, and irreplaceable. ____________________________________ Rights Management Special Collections All literary rights in the manuscript, including the right to publish, are reserved to the Stewart Library of Weber State University. No part of the manuscript may be published without the written permission of the University Librarian. Requests for permission to publish should be addressed to the Administration Office, Stewart Library, Weber State University, Ogden, Utah, 84408. The request should include identification of the specific item and identification of the user. It is recommended that this oral history be cited as follows: Ogan, Flora, an oral history by Avery Pince, 7 August 2013 , WSU Stewart Library Oral History Program, Special Collections, Stewart Library, Weber State University, Ogden, UT. iii Flora Ogan August 7, 2013 Abstract: The following is an oral history interview with Flora Ogan. The interview was conducted on August 7, 2013, by Avery Pince. Flora discusses her experiences with 25th Street. AP: We are here today with Flora Ogan in her home. I'm Avery Pince and here with me is Woody Johnson. Flora, we are going to just ask you a few questions. We talked to you before about your experiences on 25th Street and I was hoping that you could elaborate on some of your stories. You worked at The Standard in the main building for 30 years, is that right? FO: I had a total of 40 years in and 36 years full-time and the other four years I was a freelance writer for them. AP: Are there any particular stories that stand out to you from when you worked at The Standard, particularly pertaining to 25th Street? FO: The only 25th Street story I recall writing was when they bid out the buildings for the new federal building. The police had one last tour of the opium dens and they called over to The Standard and invited a reporter to go along and I was brand new on the staff and nobody else wanted to go, so I went. We went into what was a barbershop on Kiesel just north of 25th Street that had a gold rail on it. We went down these stairs and into a barber shop and all of a sudden we opened the doors and we started going down through walls that were not cement, but packed dirt. We probably walked to the middle part between Grant and Lincoln. They would open the doors and say, "This is such and such a place," and you 1 would look and there were little offices where they used to keep track of whatever they were doing. The one place I remember was the Senate Café, but that was the only story I ever did about 25th Street. I was very familiar with 25th Street and we had a lot of things happen down there. When I was city editor, I remember the big fire in the Reed Hotel and we lost lives on that. There was the Windsor Hotel that was always a problem and it's still a problem for them. I don't think it's filled with anything it's just sitting down there. At the Marion Hotel there was a lot of drug action and that's where when I used to drive to work I would see the young women prostitutes that would stand on the corner and they had a way of putting one leg up over the bumper of the car and you knew that's who they were. I remember the stories coming in about the Kier Company taking over the Marion Hotel and rehabilitated it and they made rooms for these people that were homeless on the street. That sort of started the clean-up process. AP: You had mentioned that somebody didn't like that you kept talking about the opium dens. FO: Yes. That was about ten years ago. Jim Stravakatis arranged for channel seven to come up and interview a lot of us and talk about Ogden in the 1950's. One of the questions came up about 25th Street and the opium dens and I said, "Yes, I was very familiar with them. A police officer named Lee Howe took me personally down through them." Afterward, I received word that Spencer Eccles from the prominent Eccles family thought it wasn't good to have Ogden advertised as having an opium den down on 25th Street, so they tried to dispute it. Every time 2 Charlie Trentelman would write a story saying there really wasn't any opium dens down there I would call him and say, "Charlie, there was. I was in them." If you go down to the Athenian, right by the front door there's a trap door you can go down in still. AP: If they were so embarrassed by the opium dens, why would they invite a Standard reporter down into them? FO: The police weren't embarrassed, it was Spencer Eccles was. He didn't want the opinion of Ogden to be nothing more than the notorious 25th Street. It really did have a reputation across the country. During the war, the soldiers would all get off at the trains there and go up 25th Street to the bars. It had a bad reputation and the leaders of the community, like Spencer, who doesn't even live here now, didn't want Ogden to be downgraded with the notorious 25th Street and having an opium den just wasn't what he thought the city ought to have out in front. Jim Budge, who ran the Ben Lomond Hotel for several years, was in town last week for Stravakatis' funeral and I said to him, "You once told me there was a door in the Ben Lomond basement that went into the dens on 25th Street." He said, "Yeah, it's still there." AP: That's incredible. Do you remember spending a lot of time on 25th Street as a kid? You grew up in Ogden, right? FO: I grew up in Ogden and 25th Street was off limits to me by my parents. When I was a little girl, if I was good we would get in the car on Saturday night and go watch the drunks on 25th Street and I remember it was just packed with people. Then, I'd get an ice cream cone. 3 AP: So you were allowed to go to 25th Street as long as you were with your parents? FO: Yes, but in a car. I had a girlfriend whose dad had a barbershop just west of Washington and when we were junior high kids, we'd go downtown and she would go to her dad's to get money and I had to wait up on the corner because my folks told me never to go down 25th. AP: Just the one street, huh? You were okay on 24th? FO: Yes. It just had a reputation and this is what Spencer Eccles didn't like was the reputation that had built up over the years about 25th Street. If you'll notice, in the stories run now it's, "the once notorious 25th Street," it's just there. AP: It's part of the history. FO: Yes. When the war was over, the Italian prisoners of war were turned loose and they hung out on 25th Street. They would pack right in front of the corner of 25th and Washington and whistle at girls. AP: Did you ever interact with them? FO: No, I was young. That's when I was a teenager. I remember seeing them though. AP: A lot of them stayed here. FO: A lot of them did. Riggo had a restaurant on 28th and Washington and he married an Ogden girl and Miconi Tile, he married an Ogden girl and stayed here. I think they had to go home and then come back, but they did. They'd watch the Germans very closely so they weren't downtown at all. AP: They stayed away from 25th Street I guess, if they stayed at all. 4 FO: They were always hooked up to cuffs on their legs and handcuffs and stuff. They just turned the Italian prisoners loose. AP: When they were still prisoners? FO: Italy surrendered much earlier and that's when they turned them loose. A lot of them went to work out at the Arsenal out of Hill Air Force Base to finish up the war. AP: That's good. Do you remember The Standard ever having a hard time with 25th Street as far as getting stories or interacting with people about it? FO: I don't. I'm sure that there were a lot of stories written about it. By the time I became active in the Standard, it had pretty much died down, you know, the notoriety. I parked my car just off of 25th Street in a parking lot and I remember if I had to work after dark I was scared and run really fast or have somebody walk me to my car. AP: Where was The Standard located? FO: It was at 24th and Kiesel in the Kiesel building which is still there. They moved shortly after I started working there to the old armory on 23rd and Adams. It's gone now but it was nice new offices when they moved up there, because they rehabbed the whole thing and that's where I worked the whole time. AP: You said that your family worked in Ogden or your family owned a business here? FO: My father worked on 24th And Kiesel in Read Brothers where the horse was on the building. Then, in 1950 he opened his own store in Roy and that's when the 5 family all moved out here. I grew up on 30th and Jefferson. I went to Washington Elementary School and Junior High and Ogden High School. AP: You mentioned the fire in the Reed Hotel. FO: I just remember going up 25th Street and going to work that morning and the fire trucks were everywhere. I think there were a couple of fatalities in it. It was where some of the people that patronized the state lived. It was never really a high class hotel down 25th Street. At one time, there was the Healy Hotel right on the corner across from union station and I remember it, it had a beautiful staircase and I think it was a pretty popular hotel, but the others on 25th were just flop houses mostly. AP: So the Healy was the higher class one and the others were just for people coming and going. FO: It would be your homeless people that would go in for a night and flop. I don't know where they found them. The most active place down there for people to stay was the Porters and Waiters Club. They had a reputation of being for the African Americans, but everybody went there. AP: Did you ever go there? FO: No. the only time I went down there was when we had an editor who would go on a drunk for several days and when he wanted to sober up he'd go over there and Annabelle Weekly would take care of him. One time he was ready to come back and I drove down and got him and that's the only time I was in there. AP: What was your perception when you were in there? 6 FO: Fine. I got to be pretty good friends with Annabelle because she would come down and give us stories. There were a lot of features done on Annabelle and her husband. AP: So she would come to you, you wouldn't go to her? FO: We would converse on the phone. Another notorious couple on 25th Street that we did a lot of stories on was the Rose Room. I can't remember their names now but she was famous for driving around in a purple convertible. WJ: Rosie and Bill Davies. FO: Yes. I just remember seeing her in her purple Cadillac. That was very famous. That was during the era of Mayor Peery when he opened up 25th Street. That was before I was writing so I really wasn't involved in the stories, but they were still in operation when I worked at The Standard. AP: The Davies were? FO: Yes. The purple Cadillac was still around for a long time. AP: So you weren't such a big fan of the politics? FO: Oh I love politics. AP: Mayor Peery's shaping up of 25th Street? FO: I don't think that there was all that much political activity about 25th Street. Harm Peery took over and he sort of opened up the city to a lot of vices. He did a lot of good, but he wasn't one to make the law this or that. He wanted action and he got it. 7 AP: What kind of action? FO: Like Pioneer Days and he used to have a carnival down by the old Municipal Building and he was riding around town on a horse. It was his family that built the Egyptian Theater and the Ogden Theater, so they were very good humanitarians and philanthropists too. He really had a lot of action when he was mayor. That's when I was just sort of in between college and going to work. I was raising babies. AP: But you were still sort of aware of what was going on? FO: Oh sure, I've always been aware. AP: Did you ever go to any of the shops on 25th Street? FO: I haven't. There's one little shop down there I'd like to see now. I go down there now all the time to Karen's and we go to the Athenian and I go to Rooster's and it's just amazing what's happened down there. AP: You didn't go there beforehand? FO: No. AP: Was it because you were never down there or because of the reputation? FO: Well, I was never down there and I was always told to stay away from there, so I did. AP: Even as an adult? FO: Even when I was an adult. When I became an adult it was when it was in shambles. It came up from where it was during the war and it had this period of 8 just falling apart. All of a sudden, the city decided to do something with it and I think I told you about Scott Parkinson, who was the planner for the city. They started it and there was a fellow that had a little shop of kitchen goods. I can't think of his name now, he was from Riverdale. He worked with Scott and they started building it up down there. The first time I went down there to eat was when the building where the Athenian is was a little coffee shop that was run by Dr. Reis' wife. I remember going there and I was so excited to think that there was a nice place like that on 25th Street to go to. Then Rooster's came in, and there have been several people that had shops down there. I can't think of her name now, but there was a woman who had her gift shop down there and was in charge of the Christmas Village. She was very instrumental in getting 25th Street going. She was married to Scott Buehler, but used her maiden name down there. I do take pride in 25th Street and I think it's wonderful that we've got it, to watch the transition was something. About a year ago the Salt Lake Tribune did a feature story on Ogden and what it has to offer. The reporter was somebody that I knew from the system and he just barely covered what was going on in Ogden. I sat down and wrote him a letter and I told him all about 25th Street and that he could get on the Front Runner and get off and walk up there. I told him about Dinosaur Park and the Aerospace Museum and, bless his heart, he came and brought his wife and stayed overnight and went everywhere and then wrote a beautiful story about the renaissance of 25th Street and all that Ogden had to offer. 25th Street is a real attractive place for tourists now and I think we're 9 marketing it, I know we're trying, but people still see it as this notorious street where all the drunks hung out and that isn't it anymore, it's a beautiful place. AP: You told me last time that you wrote the lead story on Marshall White. FO: I wrote the original story on his shooting. It was about three years after I started full-time at the Standard. The paper was out, but not on press yet and all the other editors had gone to lunch and told me to listen for the phones. On the police phone they were saying, "Michael Jones has escaped, he's going over on Fowler Avenue." I was sitting there listening to all this and finally they said, "Doc White has got him cornered in a house on the 100 block of Fowler." Pretty soon it said, "Doc White's been shot, get an ambulance." I'm thinking, "I'm alone. What do I do? We've got a policeman shot and a deadline." I listen to it and they said, "We've got him out of the house, we've captured the kid and we're going to St. Benedicts." I wrote a note to the city editor and said, "I've gone to St. Benedicts Hospital, Marshall White has been shot, I will call you." I went up there and I got there just as they pulled in and watched what was going on with him. I knew he was a goner, so I called in the story about him getting shot. I used what I heard on the police radio and had a page one story. AP: He spent a lot of time on 25th Street and did a lot of Civil Rights demonstrations and things. FO: I don't remember a lot of demonstrations. I don't think anybody really cared all that much. Did you talk to Velma Saunders? She had a home down there and she used to campaign all the time about how they were being treated down there. She got a stop light on 26th and Wall so that people could get across 10 there. There was a rendering plant just west of the Union Depot and the odor was just atrocious. It would waif over the town and she kept going to the city council complaining about that rendering plant and they ended up closing it. That was part of the start of the renaissance of 25th Street. AP: Cleaning up the area around it? FO: Yes. There was a tunnel that went down to the trains from the west side of the depot and I remember they filled that in because the homeless people were sleeping down in that tunnel. AP: Did you ever go down into that tunnel before they closed it? FO: I remember being down in it once and I think I went on a train somewhere when I was a little kid and I remember going down there. AP: Did you go to the train depot often as a kid even though you didn't spend a lot of time on 25th Street? FO: Had I been to the train depot a lot? AP: Were you down there as a kid? FO: When I was in high school they had a beanery which is a restaurant. They called them beaneries in train stations. After dates we used to go down there and eat at the beanery. I remember there was a little gift shop and I would look in there, but I didn't hang out down there. I didn't' see trains at all hardly. There was a laundry. The laundry building is still standing down there on the southwest corner. The beanery was torn down and it used to be on the south end of the depot about where those trains are on display. It was a very nice restaurant to eat in. 11 AP: You went to Weber State, right? FO: Yes. I went to Weber State when it was downtown. AP: What was that like? FO: I can't compare it to anything. I had a good education there for a couple of years. I had always wanted to be a writer and I was on the school paper at Ogden High School and I had a little scholarship and I went over to Weber State when it was in the Moench Building. I'm not sure I remember the name of the teacher, I can see him, he had a lot of gray hair, but not long. Some of the people I went to school with were Dean Hurst and Lawrence Burton, they were all up there. I remember seeing them at dances over in the old Weber gym building. I was working for the telephone company part-time and going to school and they needed an operator out on the Wendover Air Force Base and they asked me to go out there for the summer. I met my husband out there and got married, so I didn't go back to Weber State until after my third child was born and then I started going back. I went in the buildings by the Stewart Tower which are kind of like a barracks and I took some classes up there. Right after that I went full-time at the paper. AP: Even being so close to the notorious two-bit street going to Weber and working at the main building, you still somehow managed to avoid 25th Street? FO: 25th Street was never an issue with me actually. I just knew it existed and that I was supposed to stay away. When I went to the paper I drove it and I would see what was going on down there, but I didn't hang out there. 12 AP: That's interesting. Did any of your family go down there? Did your dad spend any time down there? FO: No. My dad was very religious. AP: So the street made him nervous. FO: Well, he was at church. He did take me down there on Saturday night to watch the drunks. The interesting thing I said to Bob Hunter, who runs the United Way and has been a commissioner, I said, "Have you been contacted?" I told him you were doing 25th Street and he said, "Well, I was just a kid then. The only thing I remember about it is my dad used to take me down there to watch the drunks." I thought, "I guess that was every family's entertainment on Saturday night." You'd have to line up to get a parking place. AP: Really? FO: Oh yes. AP: I've heard that from a few people. FO: They'd say, "If you're a good girl today we'll go down and watch the drunks." AP: It sort of sets your idea of how 25th Street is pretty early. FO: Yes, exactly. AP: Where would you go get ice cream? FO: At the barrel on 27th and Washington. It's gone. They took the barrel and made it into the trock and then the trock moved down on Kiesel, but there was a big barrel and it served ice cream. 13 WJ: You were talking about the hotels on 25th Street and only the Healy was the classier one. What kind of stories do you remember from the others? FO: Probably the fact that maybe they were taking it down was the only story I remember coming out about it. The only time we would do stories down there is if we had a murder or something like that. We didn't really patronize it as a source for news all that much. The Rosie thing was pretty much in the news a lot with the Helena Hotel, I think that was her place. If it wasn't its right next door. As far as a lot of coverage down there, I don't have any recollection of doing coverage down there other than the normal crime stories. The crime stories and the whole story about that were just these poor people wandering around down there with no place to go and annoying other people and that was the story. It wasn't that there was a lot of crime going on. There was a murder down there. Linda Odas' father got murdered down there. There were a lot of businesses down there like the Cutrubus business was a place with candy distributors and cigarette distributors and they had a lot of people worked out of that store. Homer says he remembers being a little tiny kid working down there. Doug Black's father had a store down there and Linda Odas' father had a store down there. There were a lot of good little stores down there. AP: Linda was your friend from college, right? FO: Yes. I thought she might still be teaching up there, but she could be retired. She's about my age. AP: Did you know her when her father was killed? 14 FO: I did not know her other than her affiliation with Weber State and talking to her a little bit. When she was up at Weber she was quite prominent up there. I can't remember what she taught, but she was a very active teacher. AP: So, Rose Davies was in the news fairly regularly? FO: Quite often. They knew how to cultivate a news story if they needed it. AP: Milk it a little bit. FO: Yes. A lot of people do that. AP: Do you think that most of what was printed about her is true? FO: I'm sure some of it had to be true. She had a big fur and she'd ride around in that Cadillac. She was colorful. AP: Quite the character. FO: I think she was a friend of Harm Peery too, the mayor. I hope you got a lot on him because he had a lot to do with 25th Street. AP: We've heard quite a bit about him. Do you think they were friends with each other? FO: I don't know how much they were friends, but I'm sure they associated in some way. AP: You never met her? FO: No, I don't think I did. I've tried to think if I ever did, but all I did was see her. She was very prominent driving around in that Cadillac. AP: You were the editor by that point, right? 15 FO: I was the city editor in 1969 and then I was editorial editor in 1981, so I was only a reporter for ten years. AP: Do you remember any sort of big or notorious events? You said there were a couple of murders down there, but was there anything else? FO: I remember that one specifically, but those homeless people would kill one another once in a while. AP: Would you run a story on that? FO: Oh sure. We had a police reporter that followed whatever was going on. WJ: You were around when 25th Street was frequented by the trains and you were around when the trains no longer came and 25th crumbled and you've been around on the rebuilding of 25th Street. Do you find that it is an effective rebuild? Do you think that documenting the history to preserve it, but having the modern 25th Street incorporate some of that history is effective? FO: My feeling is that they have done an exceptional job of restoring 25th Street because everybody that's down there seems to want to claim part of the history, but they want to show that we're now a new modern city. I'm amazed. My son moved away and when I brought him home for a visit he couldn't believe this had happened to Ogden. It was such a wonderful transition to see from when he was a little boy to adulthood. I think they've done a marvelous job and I think that the Browning people are still helping down at the Union Station and they're committed to make that place a tourist attraction, yet comfortable for the locals. I think they've accomplished it. It's beyond any expectation I ever had. 16 AP: They're still pulling a little bit from the history. If you drive around you can see some of the signs that remind. FO: Oh sure. They've done a wonderful job of promoting. They always end up with all these little programs like car shows and we used to have a street festival uptown and now it's down 25th. They've done a marvelous job. AP: Do you think that people on 25th Street are proud of the history? FO: They've got to be proud because they've done a wonderful job. AP: Well, do you think they're proud of the history? FO: The earlier history? I don't know how much. Karen worked for my dad's store at one time and that's where I met her. She had this dream that she wanted a restaurant so she started on the north side facing the south up somewhere around the Athenian; it was so popular that she moved down to this new building. People that are down there, a lot of them probably remember some of the historic families. AP: Do you have any other special stories you want to tell us before we conclude the interview? FO: We talked about it at coffee about some of the characters that used to walk the streets. There was a little old, I don't know if he was a Catholic Priest, but his name was Dominguez or something like that and he had a little shop up 25th Street. He used to walk around town with this tree limb as a cane and when the girls would walk by he'd flip their skirts up. The police were after him all the time. We talked about him at coffee. There was also an older woman that wore a black 17 hat like a witch and a black outfit and she had a baby carriage and pushed a doll around town all the time. We were talking about how we don't have those characters anymore. WJ: Do you remember a drunk that went by "Airplane?" I've heard a lot of stories about Airplane and it would have been during the 1970's. He was a man that was always on 25th Street and drunk and pretending to be an airplane. FO: I haven't heard about that one. WJ: With your stories of the characters and also seeing the drunks when you were a kid, what type of characters do you remember that were drunk when you went down with your family and watched them? FO: I just remember a lot of people staggering around down there. A lot of them were soldiers during the war. They'd get off the train and come up the street. When I was just viewing 25th Street, there was no one in particular that I remember. Of course, I knew about Rosie and the Porters and Waiters and there was the Pappas family down there. I went to school with Tom Pappas and I remember him telling me that he could go down to his dad's store, but he couldn't go out on the street. That was in high school. That was The Club, down on the lower end. AP: Do you still talk to the Pappas'? FO: They're all gone. AP: There is a couple left. FO: The last one I remember was Leah and she used to come in my office all the time and visit with me, but Tom died early. I think there's a George that's still 18 around, but I don't know George. Tom was very popular in high school and his father ran the club. AP: You didn't go to the club downtown, you just knew about it? FO: I've never been to the club. The only ones I've been in are the Athenian, Roosters, and Karen's. I remember eating in the Senate before it was torn down. I don't remember a lot, but it was run by a Chinaman. AP: The Senate? FO: Yes. There was a place called Ross and Jacks and it was very popular down there and I remember walking over to Ross and Jacks when I worked at The Standard, but right after that it go torn down. When they tore down the Broom Hotel, they tore down Ross and Jacks. AP: Did they share a wall or were they close together? FO: They just tore out that whole face of 25th Street and built the new bank. Right on the corner of Kiesel and 25th on the northeast, there was a Greek man that had a pool hall. I remember that got torn out with it too. AP: Thank you, Flora, for your time. We really appreciate it. Your stories are very interesting. FO: I can hardly wait to hear the final results. 19

Nicholas Onuf on the Evolution of Social Constructivsm, Turns
in IR, and a Discipline of Our Making






Can we really go on speaking about International Relations
as a 'discipline'? Even if social constructivism is often presented as a robust
theoretical cornerstone of the discipline, one of the thinkers that established
this theoretical position challenges the existence of IR. Surely, Nicholas Onuf
argues, we have a disciplinary machinery—institutions, journals, conferences
and so forth—but these form an apparatus built around a substantive void—in his
words, 'a discipline without an 'about''. In this Talk, Nicholas Onuf—among others—weaves an appraisal of
disciplinary boundaries through a discussion of social constructivism's birth
and growth, tells the material turn to get serious and provides a bleak
assessment of IR's subservient relation to political order.





Print version of this Talk (pdf)





What is (or should be), according to you, the biggest challenge /
principal debate in current International Relations? What is your position or
answer to this challenge / in this debate?



In my view, the
biggest challenge for IR is making good on claims (I'd say pretensions) that IR
is a discipline in its own right.  Such
claims presume that IR has a reasonably well-bounded subject matter and a body
of theory uniquely suited to that subject matter.  For 25 years I have been saying that IR fails
miserably in meeting this challenge. 
Much less do we acknowledge the challenge—there is no debate.  As it is, we have institutionalized a
so-called discipline (journals, conferences, workshops, PhD programs) that
reaches far beyond (lower case) international relations.  In short:  a discipline without an 'about.'  Were we to acknowledge the challenge, we
might be content to say:  Forget disciplines,
it's all about 'the social' and social theory belongs to us—too.  Or we might say, it's all about 'the
political,' and legal, political and
social theory also belong to us.  I'm not
sure there's much difference.  I am sure
that it's not enough to say our 'about' is 'the international.'  And I have said as much publicly, though
intemperate terms that I instantly regretted.



Given such a
negative assessment of IR, you might wonder why I stuck with it all these
years.  Why didn't I just call myself a
social theorist and (try to) publish in the few journals in which theorists
gets a hearing?  Actually, I did try a
few times, to no avail (just as I put 'social theory' in the subtitle of World of Our Making (1989) to no
discernible effect).  I think there's a
status issue lurking here.  Once
identified with IR, it's hard to get acknowledged outside IR.  Nobody reads
or cites us; we 'don't get no respect'; status ordering condemns us to be
consumers rather than producers of big ideas.  If (just perhaps) the era
of big ideas is over, then the next generation in IR may feel a little
braver than I was about jumping ship.  Not that I'm betting on it,
especially since publishing in a host relatively new, expressly interdisciplinary
journals, such as Global
Constitutionalism, International
Political Sociology and International
Political Theory, offer a safer alternative.





How did you arrive at where you currently are in your thinking about International
Relations?



I have to say
that events have never inspired me.  In
my callow youth, Hans Morgenthau's Politics
among Nations (1948) inspired me to think about spending a lifetime doing
IR, as did my teachers Robert Tucker and George Liska—both realists with a taste respectively for
international law and international institutions.  Working as Tucker's assistant in revising Hans Kelsen's Principles of International Law (1952) prompted
a longstanding interest in legal theory. 
As a doctoral student, I got hooked on systems theory à la Hoffmann, Kaplan, Rosecrance; the
special issue of World Politics (vol.
14, no. 1) on the international system left an indelible mark, as did Waltz's Man, the State and War (1959).  Working with Richard Falk a few
years later affected me a great deal—he remains one of my very few heroes.  So did Fritz Kratochwil,
briefly a student of mine and friend ever since.



In the 1980s
I got to know a number of mavericks: 
Hayward Alker, Rick Ashley, Dick Mansbach, John Ruggie and Rob Walker
are by no means the only ones on this list. 
More important, I think, were my feminist doctoral students, who changed
my life in a great many ways and were largely responsible for my turn to social
theory.  It was in that context that I
took the so-called linguistic turn to Wittgenstein, J. L. Austin et al. 
World of Our Making is pretty
clear about its many sources of inspiration. 
The big trick was fitting everything together.  Since then (and to keep the story manageable),
working with my brother Peter is responsible for my interest in Aristotle and in the making of the modern world; republican
theory links these two concerns.  I
cannot blame Peter for my ongoing fascination with Foucault.  





What would a student need to become a specialist in IR or understand the
world in a global way?



For me at least, this is a tricky question.  As I said earlier, I am not very much
interested in events—either as theoretical fodder or as a matter of what's
happening in the world at any given moment. 
Most of my friends and colleagues are fascinated by current events—how
often I find them glued to one news source or another.  Students are too, and it seems pretty obvious
they should be.  Most people in the field
engage in the skillful assembly of events, whether in 'cases' or as
statistically manipulated patterns. 
Learning the appropriate skills takes a great deal of time and
training.  At the same time, students
also need an exposure to theory—big picture thinking—and, in my view, the
philosophical issues that lurk behind any big picture.



Theory is a seductive.  I was seduced at the age of 19 and never
gotten over it.  Shifting metaphors, I always
told my doctoral students not to succumb to the theory bug, at least to the
exclusion of what I just called 'the skillful assembly of events.'  In other words, don't do it my way—I was lucky
to get away with it.  Disposition is a different
matter.  Students must love to work hard
for extended intervals with little immediate gratification.  Machiavelli said that warriors must be
disciplined and ardent.  I used to tell
my doctoral students, you have to be 'warrior nerds.'  If you don't fit this profile, find another
vocation.





You were immensely influential in
constructing the theoretical pillar of social constructivism in IR, starting
over 25 years ago. Looking back, has social constructivism delivered on the
promise you etched out in World of Our
Making?



No way, and for all kinds of
reasons.  This was all too clear within a
decade, as I intimated in a review of Peter Katzenstein's
The Culture of National Security (1996,
read introduction here)
and spelled out in Don Puchala's Visions of International Relations (2003).
To simplify unduly and perhaps unjustly, the constructivists who came to
prominence in the 1990s made three mistakes. First, they took for granted that a
norm (as in 'the norm') is normative without asking whether, to what degree, or
how this might be so.  I'm pretty sure this
mistake came from a mindless appropriation of functional sociology and utter
indifference to legal and political theory. Second, they substituted identity
('who am I?' questions) for agency ('who acts for what or whom?' questions) in
guessing at the implications of the end of the Cold War.  In doing so, they compounded the felony by
leaping from personal identity to collective identity and unreflectively
imputing agency to imagined collectivities. Third, they treated culture as an
aggregate residual and then assigned it enormous causal significance. Had any
of them taken the linguistic turn seriously, they might have extricated those
elements of 'culture' that (one might guess) are most consequential for social
construction.



More generally, I
came to see the constructivist surge of the 90s as a liberal-institutionalist
renaissance.  Standing in for legal
rules, formal institutions and corporate personality, norms and identity look
like a conceptual breakthrough to a generation of scholars who had been taught
to dismiss old-time liberal IR.  In the
2000s, a shifting panorama of events (genocide etc.) prompted a straight-on
liberal institutionalist revival with lots of help from lawyers.  Meanwhile, a much more diverse range of
scholarship has come to be styled constructivist for lack a better label.  Finally, there has emerged a gang of 'third
generation' constructivists who now actively repudiate their predecessors from
the 90s.  They speak my language, but
I'll let them speak for themselves.





How, do you think, do 'turns' in IR
relate to the broader context of real-world historical events? If the origins
of social constructivism have been located in the end of the Cold War, is there
some kind of dialectic whereby social constructivism then impacts on the course
of history? For instance, social constructivism is by now so established that a
big part of newer generations of practitioners in IR are probably social
constructivists. How does that influence international politics? In other
words, does social constructivism as an illocutionary theoretical approach hold
perlocutionary effect on its object of study?



I have some reservations
about the metaphor 'turn.'  Do we imagine
IR as a colossal ship that turns, however slowly, all of a piece?  I've already used the ship metaphor, but in
this context it's not appropriate—we're not that put together, and, besides, no
one is steering (not even those legendary gate-keepers).  Or a herd of wildebeests, in which all the members
of the herd turn together by keying off each other once one senses danger and
turns?  I don't think so, even if we do
sometimes see signs of a herd mentality. 




Back in the late 60s, Karl
Deutsch suggested that the field had even then experienced a succession of
waves.  I like this metaphor better
because it captures both the messiness of what's going on and a sense that
perhaps not much is changing in deeper water. 
You yourself switch metaphors on me when you mention a new generation of
constructivists.  As it happens, I like
this metaphor a lot (and have a piece entitled 'Five Generations of International
Relations Theory' forthcoming in a new edition of International Relations Theory Today, which Ken Booth and Toni
Erskine are editing).  It suggests a
dynamic internal to any field of study rather than one prompted by external
events.  Inasmuch as constructivism got
its start before the Cold War ended but afterwards changed its profile
significantly tells us the story is actually rather complicated.



The more interesting question
is whether constructivism will, as you say, impact the course of history.  The quick and dirty answer is, yes, but in
ways too subtle to document.  We already
know how difficult it is to establish any impact from IR as a scholarly pursuit
on world affairs.  That is, any impact
beyond realism and raison d'état.  As we become more specialized in what we do
and so does everyone else, it seems ever less likely that we'll be able to pin down
extended causal chains.  But I suspect
that you have something more like 'mood' in mind.  Once liberal institutionalists adopted a
slick kind of constructivism, they were pretty much in sync with the Zeitgeist, at least for a decade or
so.  So, yes, as a not very helpful
generalization, we can surmise that some degree of co-constitution was then at
work.  Always is.



One last point.  I don't have even the slightest sense that my
own scholarly work has had anything have much to do with large-scale world-making,
or that it will in any near-term.  I
don't have to be told that my work is too austere and forbidding to reach very
many people—though I am told this often enough. 
Years from now, who knows?  Yet my
teaching career convinces me that there's more co-constitution going on in the
classroom than anywhere else we're likely to find ourselves.  Interacting with hundreds of MA and PhD
students in Washington DC over 28 years—during which I noodled through what
would become World of Our Making—affected
me and them in ways beyond measure.  Some
of those students became scholars, but many more have spent their lives in
public service.





What has been, to you, the biggest
surprise or exciting move in IR since social constructivism saw the light?



The biggest and most
surprising 'move' has been the move offshore. 
I speak of course as someone raised, trained and employed in the US when
IR was 'AnAmerican Social Science.'  For the
last twenty years, IR has not so much left the US as gained strength everywhere
else.  Better to say, its center of
gravity has moved.  In the process, IR
has transformed, both as a claimant discipline and as a theory-driven
enterprise.  As a participant-observer, I
see IR as an institutional beneficiary of globalization and, to a lesser
degree, those of us in IR as agents in this hugely complicated process. 



Globalization has meant,
among much else, the extraordinary growth of higher education and its
institutional apparatus.  The
proliferation of universities is an acknowledgment of cosmopolitan imperatives and an accommodation of national needs, exemplified
in programs for the grooming of managerial elites.  For IR, this large process has been colored
by an ostensible rejection of American hegemony.  One expression of this anti-hegemonial
sentiment is the fashion for post-positivist scholarship and the sort of constructivism
that is now conventionally ascribed to Fritz Kratochwil and me.  For me personally, it's just wonderful to be
taken seriously everywhere but my own country.





You recently have turned attention
towards cognitive and evolutionary psychology. This is a pretty
underrepresented field, in terms of its being mined in IR. What challenge has
this literature to pose, in your view, to dominant IR?



Long ago, I ventured into cognitive
studies as a consequence of casting a broad net in social theory.  Since then, several disciplines have
converged in making cognitive studies just about the most exciting game in
town.  I cannot imagine anyone not being
fascinated (but then I am also fascinated by advances in cosmology, however
little I understand the technical stuff).  In recent years, I have developed a more
specific interest in what cognitive and evolutionary psychology might tell
about my mind, any mind, in relation to a world that my mind cannot access
directly, the world of appearances.  As
you can see, I'm a philosophical idealist—with many qualifications, a Kantian
idealist.  Most people in IR are
philosophical realists, for whom such issues are less compelling.  



Let me comment briefly on any
challenge the cognitive revolution might pose for IR in the philosophical
realist mode.  IR's substantive concerns
are so far removed from the stuff of cognitive science (neurons and such) that I doubt scholars in IR will ever feel
obliged take the latter into account. 
Nor should they.  Positivist
science is reductive—it always pushes down levels of analysis to explain what's
going on at higher levels.  But anyone
pushing down risks losing touch with what seems to be substantively distinctive
about one's starting point, and IR and its event-manifold are a long way up
from the synchronized firing of neurons. 
I would qualify this bald statement somewhat to account for the recent interest
of emotions in IR.  At least some of the
psychological literature on emotions taps into a deep pool of research where
the age-old cognition-emotion binary has finally been put to rest.





You have a broad experience in IR.
How do you see the evolution of the field? Is it a tragedy of unfolding
rationalization and increasing division of labor, or is something else going
on?



As I intimated earlier, IR has
failed as a disciplinary project.  I'm
almost inclined to say, there's no hope for IR 'as we know it.'  Better to say, IR has lost its self-told coherence.  A hundred flowers bloom, but just barely, and
there are a lot of weeds.  I don't see
this as a bad thing (your weeds may well be my flowers), although other
disciplines, such as sociology and a resuscitated geography, cast shadows on
our scraggly garden.  I do think larger
societal processes—modern rationalization and modernist functional
differentiation—have conjoined to impose a coherence we don't see.  Crudely, we are servants to other servants,
all of us ultimately minions to run-away capital and victims of its
techno-material seductions.  I guess you
could call this phenomenon a tragedy, though its very impersonality undercuts
the sense of the term.  I have no doubt,
however, that it will eventuate in a catastrophe from we moderns will never
recover.  I have been saying this ever
since the 1970s, when the debate over The Limits to Growth
persuaded me that we would never turn the ship around.





A new 'turn' seems to be developing
in the social sciences, possibly a swing of the ontological pendulum back to
materialism—this time with a more postpositivist undertone. How do you relate
to such a turn?



I am skeptical.  It looks like a fad to me—people casting
about for something new and interesting to say. 
Moreover, the vitalist, Bergsonian tenor of so
much of the new materialism turns me off—I cannot see the case for ascribing
agency (and thus purpose) to things when the language of cause suffices.  (And I am not among those constructivists who
will not speak of cause for fear of positivist contamination.)  But there's another issue that troubles
me:  the continued power of the
materialist-idealist binary.  In IR, we
call realists materialists and liberal institutionalists/soft constructivists
idealists when it should be obvious that whatever separates them (in my view,
not as much as they think) has nothing to do with idealism and materialism as
philosophical stances.  Security dilemmas,
arms races and terrorist plots are not ideationally informed?  Norm diffusion, identity crises and human
rights are not materially expressed?  Get
serious.



 I argued in World of Our Making that the material and the social are bound
inextricably bound together.  Rules do
the job.  They turn the stuff of the
world into resources that we, as social beings, put to use.  I think I got it right then.  Needless to say, I also think students afflicted
with mindlessly linked binaries can only benefit from reading that book.





Nicholas Greenwood Onuf is renowned
as one of the founders of constructivism in International Relations. He is also
known for his important contributions to International Legal Theory,
International History, and Social Theory. Onuf's most famous
work is arguably World of Our Making: Rules and Rule in Social
Theory and International Relations (published in 1989), which
should be on every IR student's must-read list. His recent publications
include Nations, Markets, and War: Modern History and the American
Civil War (2006, co-authored with his brother Peter Onuf) and International
Legal Theory: Essays and Engagements, 1966-2006 (2008). Onuf is
currently Professor Emeritus of International Relations at Florida
International University and is on the editorial boards of International
Political Sociology, Cooperation and Conflict, and Contexto
Internacional. Professor Onuf received his PhD in International Studies at
John Hopkins University, and has also taught at Georgetown University, American
University, Princeton, Columbia, University of Southern California, Pontifícia
Universidade Católica do Rio de Janeiro, and Kyung Hee University in Korea.





Related
links


FacultyProfile at the Florida International University 
Read Onuf's Rule and Rules in International Relations
(2014 conference paper) here (pdf) 
Read Onuf's Fitting Metaphors: the Case of the European
Union (New Perspectives, 2010) here (pdf) 
Read Onuf's Institutions, intentions and international
relations (Review of International Studies, 2002) here (pdf) 
Read Onuf's Levels (European Journal of
International Relations 1995) here (pdf) 












Print version of this Talk (pdf)

Giordano Bruno an agitator of libertarian consciences By: Manuelita Sánchez Ortiz and Wilson Sánchez Jiménez Giordano Bruno was born four years after the death of Camillo, in 1548. He entered the Dominican order in 1563. Educated in the Dominican convent of Naples, his education must have included an intense concentration on the art of memory, as congested, mergers and complications that in that tradition had grown to the lee of the ad herenianos precepts, as we found them in the treaties of Romberch and Rosellius, they entered in troel in the brunianos books on the memory. According to the words that, taking them from Bruno's own lips, noted the librarian of the abbey of Saint Victor de Paris, Bruno was already known as an expert in memory before leaving the Dominican Order (Yates, 2005). The philosopher Giordano Bruno, ruminated in the monasterial silence of the stone abbeys, all the fundamental texts of the classical period of the luminous Greece; During years of rigorous reading and spiritual retreats, he devoted himself to studying in depth, all the broad ethical, physical and logical theory of the ancient tradition, thereby achieving shake the theological postulates of the establishment of the church institution (the Catholic Church). The expulsion of Giordano Bruno from the Dominica order, indicated as a heretic; his persecution and subsequent condemnation of the fire, by the high hierarchies of the church, leaves in evidence the dogmatism and the violent exercise of this institution on those who affirmed at that time a different conception of the world. Bruno's death, to this day, continues to demonstrate to the whole world that hegemonic discourses abrogate the power to make people live and die, to impose the notion of truth about minorities on majorities, and this remains a constant in the relations of power that the powerful have imposed in blood and fire on peoples throughout the planet. The death of Giordano Bruno shows the censorship carried out by the Catholic Church in the sixteenth century against those philosophers, scientists, scholars and others, who went against the hegemonic pretensions of the Church and who questioned the value judgments issued by this institution allied with the ruling powers as we can see in the book Giordano Bruno: The art of memory, cited above. Angel J. Cappelletti in the prologue to the book "On the infinite universe and the worlds" shows some features of Giordano Bruno's personality: "Bruno praises, undoubtedly, in Copernicus the heliocentric conception, but reproaches him for not having extracted all the consequences cosmological that, according to its own interpretation, must be extracted from it. Consequently, with a certain very Renaissance impudence, which shelters itself only in poetic quotations and rhetorical considerations, it then makes an unconditional praise of itself, and of philosophy itself: "Behold he who has embraced the air, penetrated the sky , traveled the stars, crossed the limits of the world, made disappear the fantastic walls of the first, octaves, novenas, tenths and other spheres that could have been added, according to the opinions of vain mathematicians and the blind vision of vulgar philosophers ". He opened the cloisters of truth, undressed the hidden nature, gave sight to the blind, let go of the mute, made the lame of the spirit walk. For him we know that if we lived on the Moon or in the stars we would not inhabit a better world but perhaps worse than this one. Thanks to him we know the existence of thousands of stars axis that contemplate the universal, eternal and infinite efficient; our reason is not already imprisoned by the crickets of fantastic mobiles and motors; we know that there is only one immense heaven, in which the stars move and participate in perpetual life. We discover, with him, the infinite effect of the infinite cause and we learn not to seek far from us the divinity, which is within us and closer to us than ourselves. (Bruno, 1584) The teacher Angel J. Cappelletti is surprised of some passages of Bruno, in relation to the idea of the same universe that the philosopher maintained, that is to say, a series of bold but logical consequences, reflected in the following lines in you of Cappelletti: The universe, insofar as it is formed by a single soul, it constitutes a whole or, to put it better, an animated whole. The universe is, then, a great and sacred animal: animal, because endowed with self-movement and life; great, because it includes all beings in itself and fills all possible spaces; sacred, because his soul, that is, the being of his being, is God. Moreover, all the things that make up the universe are endowed with soul and life, since in all of them there is a form that is the beginning of its own movement. "Everything is full of gods," Bruno might have exclaimed, as, it is said, Thales exclaimed. "There are also gods here", he could have responded to the objections of his adversaries, as Heraclitus exclaimed, inviting his visitors to approach the fire. "Anything, however small and minimal," Bruno says, "has in itself a part of spiritual substance, which, if it finds the subject disposed, develops in plant or animal and receives the members of a body that, for what is common is called animate: because spirit is found in all things and there is no minimum corpuscle that does not contain in itself a part that animates it " (Bruno, 1584) The cosmological postulates of Bruno, beyond being a scientific objectivity that questioned the whole theoretical structure of the Church, were received by the ecclesiastical power, as negative reasons for the instituted power of the Catholic Church, because they allowed to glimpse that, being this institution so important at the time, different approaches could be generated to the ecclesiastics. The list of charges against Bruno by the unilateral ecclesiastical courts of the time can be summarized as follows: 1. He had different opinions to Catholic faith, to speak against her and her ministers2. To have different opinions to the catholic faith on the trinity the divinity of christ and the reincarnation did not understand that the holy spirit was a third person3. I believed that God's life is not eternal4. There are multiple worlds5. Original sin denied the presence of Christ in the Eucharist In conclusionIn the current times, Giordano Bruno leaves history to become effective in the current political situation of Colombia, because as everyone knows, the hegemonic discourse of the violent powers that govern the planet today and in particular Colombia, have established a type of unanimous truth that pretends not to be questioned, not introverted, not denounced, not disclosed. Even the church and the State continue to identify the autonomous and autonomous thinking of society, of communities as a dangerous element that must be conjured by coercive power. Knowledge is power, education, ideas free men and women represent a danger to this kind of factual powers that despise life and worship things. The voices of the oppressed, clamor for justice, clamor for truth and reparation, cry for stable and lasting peace, clamor for a world among humans, human too human. Giordano Bruno is a true agitator of the consciences of all times and will be evoked by his libertarian thought before the truths sealed by the hegemonic discourses. ; Giordano Bruno, un agitador de las conciencias libertarias Por Manuelita Sánchez Ortiz y Wilson Sánchez Jiménez Giordano Bruno nació cuatro años después de la muerte de Camillo, en 1548. Entró en orden Dominicana en 1563. Educado en el convento dominico de Nápoles, su educación debió de incluir una intensa concentración en el arte de la memoria, pues los congestorios, fusiones y complicaciones que en esa tradición habían crecido al socaire de los preceptos ad herenianos, tal como los encontramos en los tratados de Romberch y Rosellius, entraron en tropel en los libros brunianos sobre la memoria. Según las palabras que, tomándolas de los propios labios de Bruno, anotó el bibliotecario de la abadía de Saint Víctor de Paris, a Bruno ya se le conocía como experto en la memoria antes de que dejarse la Orden Dominica (Yates, 2005). El filósofo Giordano Bruno, rumió en el silencio monasterial de las pétreas Abadías, todos los textos fundamentales de la época clásica de la luminosa Grecia; durante años de lectura rigurosa y retiros espirituales, se dedicó a estudiar con detenimiento, toda la amplia teoría ética, física y lógica de la tradición antigua, con ello logro hacer temblar los postulados teológicos del establecimiento de la iglesia institución (la iglesia católica). La expulsión de Giordano Bruno de la orden Dominica, señalado de hereje; su persecución y posterior condena a la hoguera, por los altos jerarcas de la iglesia, deja en evidencia el dogmatismo y el ejercicio violento de esta institución sobre quienes afirmaban en aquella época una concepción distinta del mundo. La muerte de Bruno, hasta el día de hoy, aún sigue demostrándole al mundo entero que, los discursos hegemónicos se abrogan del poder de hacer vivir y hacer morir, de imponer la noción de verdad de unas minorías sobre las mayorías, y esto sigue siendo una constante en las relaciones de poder que los poderosos han impuesto a sangre y fuego sobre los pueblos en todo el planeta. La muerte de Giordano Bruno muestra la censura llevada a cabo por la Iglesia católica del siglo XVI en contra de aquellos filósofos, científicos, sabios y demás, que iban en contra de las pretensiones hegemónicas de la Iglesia y que ponían en duda los juicios de valor emitidos por esta institución aliada con los poderes reinantes tal como lo podemos ver en el libro Giordano Bruno: El arte de la memoria, citado líneas arriba. Ángel J. Cappelletti en el prólogo al libro "Sobre el infinito universo y los mundos" muestra algunos rasgos de la personalidad de Giordano Bruno: "Alaba Bruno, sin duda, en Copérnico la concepción heliocéntrica, pero le reprocha el no haber extraído todas las consecuencias cosmológicas que, según su propia interpretación, deben extraerse de ella. En consecuencia, con una cierta impudicia muy renacentista, que se escuda apenas en citas poéticas y consideraciones retóricas, hace luego un incondicionado elogio de sí mismo, y de la propia filosofía: "He aquí a aquel que ha abarcado el aire, penetrado el cielo, recorrido las estrellas, traspasado los límites del mundo, hecho desaparecer las fantásticas murallas de las primeras, octavas, novenas, décimas y otras esferas que se habrían, podido añadir, según las opiniones de vanos matemáticos y la ciega visión de vulgares filósofos". El abrió los claustros de la verdad, desnudó la oculta naturaleza, dio vista a los ciegos, soltó la lengua a los mudos, hizo andar a los cojos del espíritu. Por él sabemos que si viviéramos en la Luna o en las estrellas no habitaríamos un mundo mejor sino quizás peor que éste. Gracias a él conocemos la existencia de millares eje astros que contemplan al universal, eterno e infinito eficiente; nuestra razón no está ya aprisionada por los grillos de fantásticos móviles y motores; sabemos que no hay más que un solo cielo inmenso, en el cual los astros se mueven y participan de la vida perpetua. Descubrimos, con él, el efecto infinito de la infinita causa y aprendemos a no buscar lejos de nosotros a la divinidad, que está dentro de nosotros y más próxima a nosotros que nosotros mismos". (Bruno, 1584) El maestro Ángel J. Cappelletti se sorprende de algunos pasajes de Bruno, en relación a la idea del universo mismo que el filósofo sostenía, es decir, una serie de osadas pero lógicas consecuencias, reflejadas en las siguientes líneas en vos de Cappelletti: El universo, en cuanto está formado por un alma única, constituye un conjunto o, por mejor decir, un todo animado. El universo es, pues, un grande y sagrado animal: animal, porque dotado de auto-movimiento y de vida; grande, porque incluye en sí todos los seres y llena todos los espacios posibles; sagrado, porque su alma, esto es, el ser de su ser, es Dios. Más aún, todas las cosas que integran el universo están dotadas de alma y de vida, ya que en todas ellas está presente una forma que es principio de su propio movimiento. "Todo está lleno de dioses", podría haber exclamado Bruno, como, según se dice, exclamó Tales. "También aquí hay dioses", podría haber respondido ante las objeciones de sus adversarios, como Heráclito exclamó, invitando a sus visitantes a que se acercaran al fuego. "Cualquier cosa, por pequeña y mínima que sea –dice Bruno–, tiene en sí una parte de substancia espiritual, la cual, si encuentra dispuesto al sujeto, se desarrolla en planta o en animal y recibe los miembros de un cuerpo que, por lo común, se llama animado: porque espíritu se encuentra en todas las cosas y no existe un mínimo corpúsculo que no contenga en sí una parte que lo anime." (Bruno, 1584) Los postulados cosmológicos de Bruno, más allá de ser una objetividad científica que puso en tela de juicio toda la estructura teórica de la Iglesia, fueron recibidos por el poder eclesiástico, como razones negativas para el poder instituida de la Iglesia católica, pues permitieron vislumbrar que, siendo esta institución tan importante en la época, se podían generar planteamientos distintos a los eclesiásticos. La lista de cargos en contra de bruno por los unilaterales tribunales eclesiásticos de la época se puede resumir en las siguientes: Tenía opiniones distintas a fe católica, hablar contra ella y sus ministros Tener opiniones distintas a la fe católica sobre la trinidad la divinidad de cristo y la reencarnación no entendía que el espíritu santo fuera una tercera persona Creía que la vida de dios no es eterna Existen múltiples mundos Negaba el pecado original la presencia de cristo en la eucaristía A manera de conclusión En los tiempos actuales, Giordano Bruno sale de la historia para hacerse vigente en la actual coyuntura política de Colombia, pues como todos los saben, el discurso hegemónico de los violentos poderes que hoy gobiernan el planeta y en particular Colombia, han instaurado un tipo de verdad unánime que pretende ser no cuestionada, no introvertida, no denunciada, no develada. Aún la iglesia y el Estado siguen identificando al pensamiento propio y autónomo de la sociedad, de las comunidades como un elemento de peligroso que debe ser conjurado por el poder coercitivo. El conocimiento es poder, la educación, las ideas los hombres y mujeres libres representan un peligro para este tipo de poderes fácticos que desprecian la vida y adoran las cosas. Las voces de los oprimidos, claman por justicia, claman por verdad y reparación, claman por la paz estable y duradera, claman por un mundo entre los humanos, humano demasiado humano. Giordano Bruno es un auténtico agitador de las conciencias de todos los tiempos y será evocado por su pensamiento libertario ante las verdades selladas por los discursos hegemónicos. ; Giordano Bruno, um agitador das consciências libertáriasPor Manuelita Sánchez Ortiz e Wilson Sánchez Jiménez Giordano Bruno nasceu quatro anos depois da morte de Camillo, em 1548. Entrou na ordem dominicana em 1563. Educado no convento dominicano de Nápoles, sua educação deve ter incluído uma intensa concentração na arte da memória, como congestionado, fusões. e complicações que nessa tradição tinham crescido ao sotavento dos preceitos ad herenianos, como os encontramos nos tratados de Romberch e Rosellius, entraram em tropel nos livros brunianos sobre a memória. Segundo as palavras que, tomando-as dos próprios lábios de Bruno, observou o bibliotecário da abadia de São Victor de Paris, Bruno já era conhecido como um especialista em memória antes de deixar a Ordem Dominicana (Yates, 2005). O filósofo Giordano Bruno, ruminado no silêncio monumental das abadias de pedra, todos os textos fundamentais do período clássico da Grécia luminosa; durante anos de leitura rigorosa e retiros espirituais, dedicou-se a estudar em profundidade toda a teoria ética, física e lógica da tradição antiga, com isso consegui sacudir os postulados teológicos do estabelecimento da instituição eclesial (a igreja católica). A expulsão de Giordano Bruno da ordem Dominica, indicada como herege; sua perseguição e subseqüente condenação do fogo, pelas altas hierarquias da igreja, deixa em evidência o dogmatismo e o violento exercício dessa instituição sobre aqueles que afirmavam naquela época uma concepção diferente do mundo. A morte de Bruno, até hoje, continua a demonstrar ao mundo inteiro que os discursos hegemônicos anulam o poder de fazer as pessoas viverem e morrerem, impor a noção de verdade sobre as minorias às maiorias, e isso permanece uma constante nas relações de poder que os poderosos impuseram em sangue e fogo aos povos de todo o planeta. A morte de Giordano Bruno mostra a censura levada a cabo pela Igreja Católica no século XVI contra aqueles filósofos, cientistas, estudiosos e outros que se opuseram às pretensões hegemónicas da Igreja e questionaram os juízos de valor. emitida por esta instituição aliada aos poderes dominantes, como podemos ver no livro Giordano Bruno: A arte da memória, citada acima. Angel J. Cappelletti no prólogo do livro "Sobre o universo infinito e os mundos" mostra algumas características da personalidade de Guordano Bruno: "Bruno elogia, indubitavelmente, em Copérnico a concepção heliocêntrica, mas o repreende por não ter extraído todas as consequências cosmológico que, de acordo com sua própria interpretação, deve ser extraído dele. Conseqüentemente, com uma certa impudência muito renascentista, que se abriga apenas em citações poéticas e considerações retóricas, ele então faz um elogio incondicional de si mesmo e da própria filosofia: "Aqui está aquele que abraçou o ar, penetrou o céu, viajou as estrelas, cruzou os limites do mundo, fez desaparecer as paredes fantásticas do primeiro, oitavas, novenas, décimos e outras esferas, que poderiam ter sido adicionadas, de acordo com as opiniões da vaidade matemática e a visão cega dos filósofos vulgares ". Ele abriu os claustros da verdade, despiu a natureza oculta, deu vista aos cegos, soltou o mudo, fez o coxo do espírito andar. Para ele, sabemos que, se vivêssemos na Lua ou nas estrelas, não habitaríamos um mundo melhor, mas talvez pior do que esse. Graças a ele, sabemos da existência de milhares de eixos estelares que contemplam o universal, eterno e infinito eficiente; nossa razão já não está aprisionada pelos grilos de celulares e motores fantásticos; sabemos que existe apenas um imenso céu, no qual as estrelas se movem e participam da vida perpétua. Descobrimos, com ele, o efeito infinito da causa infinita e aprendemos a não procurar longe de nós a divindade, que está dentro de nós e mais perto de nós do que nós mesmos. (Bruno, 1584) O professor Ángel J. Cappelletti surpreende-se de algumas passagens de Bruno, em relação à ideia do mesmo universo que o filósofo sustentou, isto é, uma série de negrito mas consequências lógicas, refletidas nas seguintes linhas em você de Cappelletti: O universo, na medida em que é formado por uma única alma, constitui um todo ou, para melhor, um todo animado. O universo é, então, um animal grande e sagrado: animal, porque dotado de auto-movimento e vida; grande, porque inclui todos os seres em si e preenche todos os espaços possíveis; sagrado, porque a sua alma, isto é, o ser do seu ser, é Deus. Além disso, todas as coisas que compõem o universo são dotadas de alma e vida, pois em todas elas existe uma forma que é o começo de seu próprio movimento. "Tudo está cheio de deuses", exclamou Bruno, como se diz, exclamou Thales. "Há também deuses aqui", ele poderia ter respondido às objeções de seus adversários, como Heráclito exclamou, convidando seus visitantes a se aproximarem do fogo. "Qualquer coisa, por pequena e mínima que seja", diz Bruno, "tem em si uma parte da substância espiritual que, se encontrar o sujeito disposto, se desenvolve em planta ou animal e recebe os membros de um corpo que, por o que é comum é chamado de animado: porque o espírito é encontrado em todas as coisas e não há um corpúsculo mínimo que não contém em si uma parte que o anima. "(Bruno, 1584) Os postulados cosmológicos de Bruno, além de ser uma objetividade científica que questionava toda a estrutura teórica da Igreja, foram recebidos pelo poder eclesiástico, como razões negativas para o poder instituído da Igreja Católica, pois permitiram vislumbrar que Sendo esta instituição tão importante na época, diferentes abordagens poderiam ser geradas para os eclesiásticos. A lista de acusações contra Bruno pelas cortes eclesiásticas unilaterais da época pode ser resumida da seguinte forma: Ele tinha opiniões diferentes da fé católica, para falar contra ela e seus ministros Para ter opiniões diferentes sobre a fé católica na trindade, a divindade de cristo e a reencarnação não entenderam que o espírito santo era uma terceira pessoa. Eu acreditava que a vida de Deus não é eterna Existem vários mundos O pecado original negou a presença de Cristo na Eucaristia A caminho da conclusão Nos tempos atuais, Giordano Bruno deixa a história para se tornar efetiva na atual situação política da Colômbia, porque, como todos sabem, o discurso hegemônico dos poderes violentos que governam o planeta hoje e em particular a Colômbia, estabeleceram um tipo de verdade unânime que finge não ser questionada, não introvertida, não denunciada, não revelada. Mesmo a Igreja e o Estado continuam a identificar o pensamento autônomo e autônomo da sociedade, das comunidades como um elemento perigoso que deve ser invocado pelo poder coercitivo. Conhecimento é poder, educação, idéias homens e mulheres livres representam um perigo para esse tipo de poder factual que despreza a vida e cultiva as coisas. As vozes dos oprimidos, clamam por justiça, clamam por verdade e reparação, clamam por paz estável e duradoura, clamam por um mundo entre humanos, humanos demais humanos. Giordano Bruno é um verdadeiro agitador das consciências de todos os tempos e será evocado por seu pensamento libertário diante das verdades seladas pelos discursos hegemônicos. Bibliografia

Giordano Bruno an agitator of libertarian consciences By: Manuelita Sánchez Ortiz and Wilson Sánchez Jiménez Giordano Bruno was born four years after the death of Camillo, in 1548. He entered the Dominican order in 1563. Educated in the Dominican convent of Naples, his education must have included an intense concentration on the art of memory, as congested, mergers and complications that in that tradition had grown to the lee of the ad herenianos precepts, as we found them in the treaties of Romberch and Rosellius, they entered in troel in the brunianos books on the memory. According to the words that, taking them from Bruno's own lips, noted the librarian of the abbey of Saint Victor de Paris, Bruno was already known as an expert in memory before leaving the Dominican Order (Yates, 2005). The philosopher Giordano Bruno, ruminated in the monasterial silence of the stone abbeys, all the fundamental texts of the classical period of the luminous Greece; During years of rigorous reading and spiritual retreats, he devoted himself to studying in depth, all the broad ethical, physical and logical theory of the ancient tradition, thereby achieving shake the theological postulates of the establishment of the church institution (the Catholic Church). The expulsion of Giordano Bruno from the Dominica order, indicated as a heretic; his persecution and subsequent condemnation of the fire, by the high hierarchies of the church, leaves in evidence the dogmatism and the violent exercise of this institution on those who affirmed at that time a different conception of the world. Bruno's death, to this day, continues to demonstrate to the whole world that hegemonic discourses abrogate the power to make people live and die, to impose the notion of truth about minorities on majorities, and this remains a constant in the relations of power that the powerful have imposed in blood and fire on peoples throughout the planet. The death of Giordano Bruno shows the censorship carried out by the Catholic Church in the sixteenth century against those philosophers, scientists, scholars and others, who went against the hegemonic pretensions of the Church and who questioned the value judgments issued by this institution allied with the ruling powers as we can see in the book Giordano Bruno: The art of memory, cited above. Angel J. Cappelletti in the prologue to the book "On the infinite universe and the worlds" shows some features of Giordano Bruno's personality: "Bruno praises, undoubtedly, in Copernicus the heliocentric conception, but reproaches him for not having extracted all the consequences cosmological that, according to its own interpretation, must be extracted from it. Consequently, with a certain very Renaissance impudence, which shelters itself only in poetic quotations and rhetorical considerations, it then makes an unconditional praise of itself, and of philosophy itself: "Behold he who has embraced the air, penetrated the sky , traveled the stars, crossed the limits of the world, made disappear the fantastic walls of the first, octaves, novenas, tenths and other spheres that could have been added, according to the opinions of vain mathematicians and the blind vision of vulgar philosophers ". He opened the cloisters of truth, undressed the hidden nature, gave sight to the blind, let go of the mute, made the lame of the spirit walk. For him we know that if we lived on the Moon or in the stars we would not inhabit a better world but perhaps worse than this one. Thanks to him we know the existence of thousands of stars axis that contemplate the universal, eternal and infinite efficient; our reason is not already imprisoned by the crickets of fantastic mobiles and motors; we know that there is only one immense heaven, in which the stars move and participate in perpetual life. We discover, with him, the infinite effect of the infinite cause and we learn not to seek far from us the divinity, which is within us and closer to us than ourselves. (Bruno, 1584) The teacher Angel J. Cappelletti is surprised of some passages of Bruno, in relation to the idea of the same universe that the philosopher maintained, that is to say, a series of bold but logical consequences, reflected in the following lines in you of Cappelletti: The universe, insofar as it is formed by a single soul, it constitutes a whole or, to put it better, an animated whole. The universe is, then, a great and sacred animal: animal, because endowed with self-movement and life; great, because it includes all beings in itself and fills all possible spaces; sacred, because his soul, that is, the being of his being, is God. Moreover, all the things that make up the universe are endowed with soul and life, since in all of them there is a form that is the beginning of its own movement. "Everything is full of gods," Bruno might have exclaimed, as, it is said, Thales exclaimed. "There are also gods here", he could have responded to the objections of his adversaries, as Heraclitus exclaimed, inviting his visitors to approach the fire. "Anything, however small and minimal," Bruno says, "has in itself a part of spiritual substance, which, if it finds the subject disposed, develops in plant or animal and receives the members of a body that, for what is common is called animate: because spirit is found in all things and there is no minimum corpuscle that does not contain in itself a part that animates it " (Bruno, 1584) The cosmological postulates of Bruno, beyond being a scientific objectivity that questioned the whole theoretical structure of the Church, were received by the ecclesiastical power, as negative reasons for the instituted power of the Catholic Church, because they allowed to glimpse that, being this institution so important at the time, different approaches could be generated to the ecclesiastics. The list of charges against Bruno by the unilateral ecclesiastical courts of the time can be summarized as follows: 1. He had different opinions to Catholic faith, to speak against her and her ministers2. To have different opinions to the catholic faith on the trinity the divinity of christ and the reincarnation did not understand that the holy spirit was a third person3. I believed that God's life is not eternal4. There are multiple worlds5. Original sin denied the presence of Christ in the Eucharist In conclusionIn the current times, Giordano Bruno leaves history to become effective in the current political situation of Colombia, because as everyone knows, the hegemonic discourse of the violent powers that govern the planet today and in particular Colombia, have established a type of unanimous truth that pretends not to be questioned, not introverted, not denounced, not disclosed. Even the church and the State continue to identify the autonomous and autonomous thinking of society, of communities as a dangerous element that must be conjured by coercive power. Knowledge is power, education, ideas free men and women represent a danger to this kind of factual powers that despise life and worship things. The voices of the oppressed, clamor for justice, clamor for truth and reparation, cry for stable and lasting peace, clamor for a world among humans, human too human. Giordano Bruno is a true agitator of the consciences of all times and will be evoked by his libertarian thought before the truths sealed by the hegemonic discourses. ; Giordano Bruno, un agitador de las conciencias libertarias Por Manuelita Sánchez Ortiz y Wilson Sánchez Jiménez Giordano Bruno nació cuatro años después de la muerte de Camillo, en 1548. Entró en orden Dominicana en 1563. Educado en el convento dominico de Nápoles, su educación debió de incluir una intensa concentración en el arte de la memoria, pues los congestorios, fusiones y complicaciones que en esa tradición habían crecido al socaire de los preceptos ad herenianos, tal como los encontramos en los tratados de Romberch y Rosellius, entraron en tropel en los libros brunianos sobre la memoria. Según las palabras que, tomándolas de los propios labios de Bruno, anotó el bibliotecario de la abadía de Saint Víctor de Paris, a Bruno ya se le conocía como experto en la memoria antes de que dejarse la Orden Dominica (Yates, 2005). El filósofo Giordano Bruno, rumió en el silencio monasterial de las pétreas Abadías, todos los textos fundamentales de la época clásica de la luminosa Grecia; durante años de lectura rigurosa y retiros espirituales, se dedicó a estudiar con detenimiento, toda la amplia teoría ética, física y lógica de la tradición antigua, con ello logro hacer temblar los postulados teológicos del establecimiento de la iglesia institución (la iglesia católica). La expulsión de Giordano Bruno de la orden Dominica, señalado de hereje; su persecución y posterior condena a la hoguera, por los altos jerarcas de la iglesia, deja en evidencia el dogmatismo y el ejercicio violento de esta institución sobre quienes afirmaban en aquella época una concepción distinta del mundo. La muerte de Bruno, hasta el día de hoy, aún sigue demostrándole al mundo entero que, los discursos hegemónicos se abrogan del poder de hacer vivir y hacer morir, de imponer la noción de verdad de unas minorías sobre las mayorías, y esto sigue siendo una constante en las relaciones de poder que los poderosos han impuesto a sangre y fuego sobre los pueblos en todo el planeta. La muerte de Giordano Bruno muestra la censura llevada a cabo por la Iglesia católica del siglo XVI en contra de aquellos filósofos, científicos, sabios y demás, que iban en contra de las pretensiones hegemónicas de la Iglesia y que ponían en duda los juicios de valor emitidos por esta institución aliada con los poderes reinantes tal como lo podemos ver en el libro Giordano Bruno: El arte de la memoria, citado líneas arriba. Ángel J. Cappelletti en el prólogo al libro "Sobre el infinito universo y los mundos" muestra algunos rasgos de la personalidad de Giordano Bruno: "Alaba Bruno, sin duda, en Copérnico la concepción heliocéntrica, pero le reprocha el no haber extraído todas las consecuencias cosmológicas que, según su propia interpretación, deben extraerse de ella. En consecuencia, con una cierta impudicia muy renacentista, que se escuda apenas en citas poéticas y consideraciones retóricas, hace luego un incondicionado elogio de sí mismo, y de la propia filosofía: "He aquí a aquel que ha abarcado el aire, penetrado el cielo, recorrido las estrellas, traspasado los límites del mundo, hecho desaparecer las fantásticas murallas de las primeras, octavas, novenas, décimas y otras esferas que se habrían, podido añadir, según las opiniones de vanos matemáticos y la ciega visión de vulgares filósofos". El abrió los claustros de la verdad, desnudó la oculta naturaleza, dio vista a los ciegos, soltó la lengua a los mudos, hizo andar a los cojos del espíritu. Por él sabemos que si viviéramos en la Luna o en las estrellas no habitaríamos un mundo mejor sino quizás peor que éste. Gracias a él conocemos la existencia de millares eje astros que contemplan al universal, eterno e infinito eficiente; nuestra razón no está ya aprisionada por los grillos de fantásticos móviles y motores; sabemos que no hay más que un solo cielo inmenso, en el cual los astros se mueven y participan de la vida perpetua. Descubrimos, con él, el efecto infinito de la infinita causa y aprendemos a no buscar lejos de nosotros a la divinidad, que está dentro de nosotros y más próxima a nosotros que nosotros mismos". (Bruno, 1584) El maestro Ángel J. Cappelletti se sorprende de algunos pasajes de Bruno, en relación a la idea del universo mismo que el filósofo sostenía, es decir, una serie de osadas pero lógicas consecuencias, reflejadas en las siguientes líneas en vos de Cappelletti: El universo, en cuanto está formado por un alma única, constituye un conjunto o, por mejor decir, un todo animado. El universo es, pues, un grande y sagrado animal: animal, porque dotado de auto-movimiento y de vida; grande, porque incluye en sí todos los seres y llena todos los espacios posibles; sagrado, porque su alma, esto es, el ser de su ser, es Dios. Más aún, todas las cosas que integran el universo están dotadas de alma y de vida, ya que en todas ellas está presente una forma que es principio de su propio movimiento. "Todo está lleno de dioses", podría haber exclamado Bruno, como, según se dice, exclamó Tales. "También aquí hay dioses", podría haber respondido ante las objeciones de sus adversarios, como Heráclito exclamó, invitando a sus visitantes a que se acercaran al fuego. "Cualquier cosa, por pequeña y mínima que sea –dice Bruno–, tiene en sí una parte de substancia espiritual, la cual, si encuentra dispuesto al sujeto, se desarrolla en planta o en animal y recibe los miembros de un cuerpo que, por lo común, se llama animado: porque espíritu se encuentra en todas las cosas y no existe un mínimo corpúsculo que no contenga en sí una parte que lo anime." (Bruno, 1584) Los postulados cosmológicos de Bruno, más allá de ser una objetividad científica que puso en tela de juicio toda la estructura teórica de la Iglesia, fueron recibidos por el poder eclesiástico, como razones negativas para el poder instituida de la Iglesia católica, pues permitieron vislumbrar que, siendo esta institución tan importante en la época, se podían generar planteamientos distintos a los eclesiásticos. La lista de cargos en contra de bruno por los unilaterales tribunales eclesiásticos de la época se puede resumir en las siguientes: Tenía opiniones distintas a fe católica, hablar contra ella y sus ministros Tener opiniones distintas a la fe católica sobre la trinidad la divinidad de cristo y la reencarnación no entendía que el espíritu santo fuera una tercera persona Creía que la vida de dios no es eterna Existen múltiples mundos Negaba el pecado original la presencia de cristo en la eucaristía A manera de conclusión En los tiempos actuales, Giordano Bruno sale de la historia para hacerse vigente en la actual coyuntura política de Colombia, pues como todos los saben, el discurso hegemónico de los violentos poderes que hoy gobiernan el planeta y en particular Colombia, han instaurado un tipo de verdad unánime que pretende ser no cuestionada, no introvertida, no denunciada, no develada. Aún la iglesia y el Estado siguen identificando al pensamiento propio y autónomo de la sociedad, de las comunidades como un elemento de peligroso que debe ser conjurado por el poder coercitivo. El conocimiento es poder, la educación, las ideas los hombres y mujeres libres representan un peligro para este tipo de poderes fácticos que desprecian la vida y adoran las cosas. Las voces de los oprimidos, claman por justicia, claman por verdad y reparación, claman por la paz estable y duradera, claman por un mundo entre los humanos, humano demasiado humano. Giordano Bruno es un auténtico agitador de las conciencias de todos los tiempos y será evocado por su pensamiento libertario ante las verdades selladas por los discursos hegemónicos. ; Giordano Bruno, um agitador das consciências libertáriasPor Manuelita Sánchez Ortiz e Wilson Sánchez Jiménez Giordano Bruno nasceu quatro anos depois da morte de Camillo, em 1548. Entrou na ordem dominicana em 1563. Educado no convento dominicano de Nápoles, sua educação deve ter incluído uma intensa concentração na arte da memória, como congestionado, fusões. e complicações que nessa tradição tinham crescido ao sotavento dos preceitos ad herenianos, como os encontramos nos tratados de Romberch e Rosellius, entraram em tropel nos livros brunianos sobre a memória. Segundo as palavras que, tomando-as dos próprios lábios de Bruno, observou o bibliotecário da abadia de São Victor de Paris, Bruno já era conhecido como um especialista em memória antes de deixar a Ordem Dominicana (Yates, 2005). O filósofo Giordano Bruno, ruminado no silêncio monumental das abadias de pedra, todos os textos fundamentais do período clássico da Grécia luminosa; durante anos de leitura rigorosa e retiros espirituais, dedicou-se a estudar em profundidade toda a teoria ética, física e lógica da tradição antiga, com isso consegui sacudir os postulados teológicos do estabelecimento da instituição eclesial (a igreja católica). A expulsão de Giordano Bruno da ordem Dominica, indicada como herege; sua perseguição e subseqüente condenação do fogo, pelas altas hierarquias da igreja, deixa em evidência o dogmatismo e o violento exercício dessa instituição sobre aqueles que afirmavam naquela época uma concepção diferente do mundo. A morte de Bruno, até hoje, continua a demonstrar ao mundo inteiro que os discursos hegemônicos anulam o poder de fazer as pessoas viverem e morrerem, impor a noção de verdade sobre as minorias às maiorias, e isso permanece uma constante nas relações de poder que os poderosos impuseram em sangue e fogo aos povos de todo o planeta. A morte de Giordano Bruno mostra a censura levada a cabo pela Igreja Católica no século XVI contra aqueles filósofos, cientistas, estudiosos e outros que se opuseram às pretensões hegemónicas da Igreja e questionaram os juízos de valor. emitida por esta instituição aliada aos poderes dominantes, como podemos ver no livro Giordano Bruno: A arte da memória, citada acima. Angel J. Cappelletti no prólogo do livro "Sobre o universo infinito e os mundos" mostra algumas características da personalidade de Guordano Bruno: "Bruno elogia, indubitavelmente, em Copérnico a concepção heliocêntrica, mas o repreende por não ter extraído todas as consequências cosmológico que, de acordo com sua própria interpretação, deve ser extraído dele. Conseqüentemente, com uma certa impudência muito renascentista, que se abriga apenas em citações poéticas e considerações retóricas, ele então faz um elogio incondicional de si mesmo e da própria filosofia: "Aqui está aquele que abraçou o ar, penetrou o céu, viajou as estrelas, cruzou os limites do mundo, fez desaparecer as paredes fantásticas do primeiro, oitavas, novenas, décimos e outras esferas, que poderiam ter sido adicionadas, de acordo com as opiniões da vaidade matemática e a visão cega dos filósofos vulgares ". Ele abriu os claustros da verdade, despiu a natureza oculta, deu vista aos cegos, soltou o mudo, fez o coxo do espírito andar. Para ele, sabemos que, se vivêssemos na Lua ou nas estrelas, não habitaríamos um mundo melhor, mas talvez pior do que esse. Graças a ele, sabemos da existência de milhares de eixos estelares que contemplam o universal, eterno e infinito eficiente; nossa razão já não está aprisionada pelos grilos de celulares e motores fantásticos; sabemos que existe apenas um imenso céu, no qual as estrelas se movem e participam da vida perpétua. Descobrimos, com ele, o efeito infinito da causa infinita e aprendemos a não procurar longe de nós a divindade, que está dentro de nós e mais perto de nós do que nós mesmos. (Bruno, 1584) O professor Ángel J. Cappelletti surpreende-se de algumas passagens de Bruno, em relação à ideia do mesmo universo que o filósofo sustentou, isto é, uma série de negrito mas consequências lógicas, refletidas nas seguintes linhas em você de Cappelletti: O universo, na medida em que é formado por uma única alma, constitui um todo ou, para melhor, um todo animado. O universo é, então, um animal grande e sagrado: animal, porque dotado de auto-movimento e vida; grande, porque inclui todos os seres em si e preenche todos os espaços possíveis; sagrado, porque a sua alma, isto é, o ser do seu ser, é Deus. Além disso, todas as coisas que compõem o universo são dotadas de alma e vida, pois em todas elas existe uma forma que é o começo de seu próprio movimento. "Tudo está cheio de deuses", exclamou Bruno, como se diz, exclamou Thales. "Há também deuses aqui", ele poderia ter respondido às objeções de seus adversários, como Heráclito exclamou, convidando seus visitantes a se aproximarem do fogo. "Qualquer coisa, por pequena e mínima que seja", diz Bruno, "tem em si uma parte da substância espiritual que, se encontrar o sujeito disposto, se desenvolve em planta ou animal e recebe os membros de um corpo que, por o que é comum é chamado de animado: porque o espírito é encontrado em todas as coisas e não há um corpúsculo mínimo que não contém em si uma parte que o anima. "(Bruno, 1584) Os postulados cosmológicos de Bruno, além de ser uma objetividade científica que questionava toda a estrutura teórica da Igreja, foram recebidos pelo poder eclesiástico, como razões negativas para o poder instituído da Igreja Católica, pois permitiram vislumbrar que Sendo esta instituição tão importante na época, diferentes abordagens poderiam ser geradas para os eclesiásticos. A lista de acusações contra Bruno pelas cortes eclesiásticas unilaterais da época pode ser resumida da seguinte forma: Ele tinha opiniões diferentes da fé católica, para falar contra ela e seus ministros Para ter opiniões diferentes sobre a fé católica na trindade, a divindade de cristo e a reencarnação não entenderam que o espírito santo era uma terceira pessoa. Eu acreditava que a vida de Deus não é eterna Existem vários mundos O pecado original negou a presença de Cristo na Eucaristia A caminho da conclusão Nos tempos atuais, Giordano Bruno deixa a história para se tornar efetiva na atual situação política da Colômbia, porque, como todos sabem, o discurso hegemônico dos poderes violentos que governam o planeta hoje e em particular a Colômbia, estabeleceram um tipo de verdade unânime que finge não ser questionada, não introvertida, não denunciada, não revelada. Mesmo a Igreja e o Estado continuam a identificar o pensamento autônomo e autônomo da sociedade, das comunidades como um elemento perigoso que deve ser invocado pelo poder coercitivo. Conhecimento é poder, educação, idéias homens e mulheres livres representam um perigo para esse tipo de poder factual que despreza a vida e cultiva as coisas. As vozes dos oprimidos, clamam por justiça, clamam por verdade e reparação, clamam por paz estável e duradoura, clamam por um mundo entre humanos, humanos demais humanos. Giordano Bruno é um verdadeiro agitador das consciências de todos os tempos e será evocado por seu pensamento libertário diante das verdades seladas pelos discursos hegemônicos. Bibliografia

Sommer, Sonne, Strand - Zypern ist eine Ferieninsel geworden, auf der viele Touristen Urlaub machen. In Nikosia können Tourist*innen in hippen Läden shoppen gehen, die schöne Altstadt genießen und lecker Essen gehen. Aber aufgepasst! Mitten in der Hauptstadt stehen Friedenstruppen der Vereinten Nationen und überwachen die grüne Linie. Der schöne Schein trügt und erinnert an die vergangenen blutigen Ereignisse zwischen den beiden Volkstruppen. Eine Reise nach Nikosia ist nicht nur mit Urlaub verbunden, sondern auch eine lebendige Geschichtsstunde, denn die Insel ist bis heute geteilt. Dennoch ist die Lage entspannter geworden, die Grenzen sind geöffnet und EU-Bürger*innen können mit ihrem Personalausweis problemlos den Südteil hin zum Nordteil überqueren. Der folgende Beitrag beschäftigt sich mit der Friedenssicherung durch die Vereinten Nationen. Die Friedenssicherung hat sich zu einem zentralen Auftrag der Vereinten Nationen entwickelt und soll am Fallbeispiel Zypern erläutert werden. Dabei gliedert sich die Arbeit in fünf Teile. Zu Beginn wird auf den Kontext der UN-Friedenssicherung im allgemeinen eingegangen. Anschließend wird Bezug auf die Charta der Vereinten Nationen genommen und der Prozess und die Verantwortlichkeit der Friedensmissionen geklärt. Im Folgenden werden die ersten Friedensmissionen beleuchtet und reflektiert. Dabei wird der Zypernkonflikt historisch eingeordnet. Ob die Vereinten Nationen im Fall Zypern richtig gehandelt oder den Konflikt nur auf Eis gelegt haben, ist eine Kontroverse. Um diese zu verstehen, müssen die Hintergründe des Konfliktes beleuchtet werden, welches im nächsten Kapitel geschieht. Weiter wird auf die Mitwirkung der UNO an einer Lösung des Konfliktes eingegangen. Hier sollen die Schwierigkeiten und Erfolge beleuchtet werden. Zum Schluss wird anhand von ausgewählten Praxisbeispielen der UNFICYP gezeigt, wie die Friedensmission vor Ort ablief. Die Probleme und Erfolge der Friedenstruppen werden betrachtet, ebenso werden die Konzepte der Vereinten Nationen, die in die Praxis umgesetzt wurden, auf ihre Standhaftigkeit überprüft.  Friedenssicherung durch die Vereinten NationenIm folgenden Abschnitt wird das Konzept der Friedenssicherung vorgestellt und in seinen einzelnen Stufen dargestellt. Die Friedenssicherung ist, zusammen mit der Durchsetzung der Menschenrechte, ein zentraler Auftrag der Vereinten Nationen. Diese Ziele hängen direkt miteinander zusammen (vgl. Mathis, 2013). Es gibt festgeschriebene Grundsätze, die von den Mitgliedern beachten werden sollten; die folgenden stehen in unmittelbarem Zusammenhang der Friedenssicherung der Vereinten Nationen: Die Pflicht zur friedlichen Streitbeilegung, das allgemeine Verbot der Androhung und Anwendung von Gewalt und das Interventionsverbot. Ausnahme beim Gewaltverbot ist die Selbstverteidigung und die vom Sicherheitsrat erlassenen militärischen Zwangsmaßnahmen. Der UN-Sicherheitsrat nimmt hier das Gewaltmonopol ein. Durch das Interventionsverbot dürfen souveräne Staaten sich nicht in innere Angelegenheiten einmischen. Der UN-Sicherheitsrat kann deshalb nicht in innerstaatliche Konflikte und Menschenrechtsverletzungen eingreifen (Ebbing 2012, vgl. S. 3f). Dabei trägt der UN-Sicherheitsrat die Verantwortung für die internationale Sicherheit und den Weltfrieden; dieser kann bindende Entscheidungen für Mitgliedsstaaten treffen (vgl. Deutsche Gesellschaft für die Vereinten Nationen e.V.). Alle UNO-Missionen zur Friedenssicherung und die Entsendung von UN-Soldaten gingen auf die Entscheidung des Sicherheitsrates zurück. Zu betrachten ist, dass durch Menschenrechtsverletzungen Konflikte gestärkt werden und diese in bewaffneten Konflikten und Kriegen enden können. Außerdem kommt es in Kriegen zu Menschenrechtsverletzungen wie z.B. durch Folter, Ermordung von Zivilisten oder sogar Verbrechen gegen die Menschlichkeit, wie Völkermord (vgl. Mathis, 2013). Ein zentrales Gremium für das UN- Konfliktmanagement, welches anhand der UN-Charta entscheidet, ob es sich um einen Friedensbruch oder um einen Bruch der internationalen Sicherheit handelt, ist etabliert. Hier werden Maßnahmen beschlossen, um die internationale Sicherheit und den Weltfrieden wieder herzustellen (vgl. Deutsche Gesellschaft für die Vereinten Nationen e.V.). Mathis zeigt auf, dass die Friedenssicherung eine signifikante Anzahl an Aspekten aufweist und durch das Grundprinzip nicht direkt in bewaffnete Konflikte eingegriffen wird. Zu aller erst gibt es die Prävention, wirtschaftliche Hilfe, Sicherung von Menschenrechten, Verhandlung in Konflikten, Sanktionen gegen Staaten, die völkerrechtswidrig handeln oder völkerrechtliche Vereinbarungen nicht einhalten, wie die Ablehnung von ABC-Waffen. Der Sicherheitsrat kann hierbei Empfehlungen zur friedlichen Streitbeilegung nach Kapitel VI der Charta aussprechen. Darüber hinaus kann es zu Zwangsmaßnahmen nach Kapitel VII kommen. Dabei kann es sich um nicht-militärische, aber auch um militärische Maßnahmen handeln (Deutsche Gesellschaft für die Vereinten Nationen e.V.). Hinzu kommt, dass der UN-Sicherheitsrat einen Krieg völkerrechtlich legitimieren kann (vgl. Mathis, 2013). Während eines Krieges werden Verhandlungen für einen Waffenstillstand geführt, es wird humanitäre Hilfe geleistet, und die Zivilbevölkerung wird durch UN-Soldaten zu schützen versucht. Selbst nach einem Krieg sorgen die UN-Soldaten für die Sicherung des Waffenstillstandes und die Einhaltung von Friedensvereinbarungen. Dabei steht der Schutz der Zivilbevölkerung permanent im Vordergrund. Ein Wiederaufbau, eine Entwaffnung und Abrüstung wird gefördert und schwere Kriegsverbrechen werden geahndet (vgl. ebd.). In einer Resolution wird vom Sicherheitsrat über die Größe und das Mandat einer Friedensmission entschieden, und anhand regelmäßiger Berichte durch den Generalsekretär kann das Mandat verlängert oder geändert werden (vgl. ebd.). Nun soll geklärt werden, wie genau eine Friedensmission abläuft und wer die Verantwortung trägt. Für die Friedensmissionen ist das Department of Peacekeeping Operations (DPKO) zuständig; dieses plant die Mission und führt diese durch. Dabei werden sie vom Department of Political Affairs (DPA) unterstützt, dieses beteiligt sich vor allem bei diplomatischen Bemühungen. Eine Einsatzleitung (Force Commander) vor Ort wird vom Generalsekretär bestimmt. Dieser verfügt ebenso auch über die ausführende Leitung der Friedensmission (vgl. Deutsche Gesellschaft für die Vereinten Nationen e.V). Aus Kapitel VII der Charta geht eine starke Anteilnahme der Mitgliedstaaten hervor. Diese Staaten sollen auf Grundlage von Sonderabkommen Streitkräfte zu Verfügung stellen. Dabei sollte erwähnt werden, dass noch kein Sonderabkommen zustande gekommen ist. Festzustellen ist, dass die Anforderungen von den Vereinten Nationen zu hoch und den praktischen Möglichkeiten voraus sind (Gareis/Varwick 2014, vgl. S.117). Gareis analysiert, dass das kollektive Interesse der VN-Mitgliedstaaten oft zu gering ist, um ihre Streitkräfte aus der Hand zu geben und das Leben der Soldaten zu riskieren (vgl. ebd.). Daraus folgt, dass die Vereinten Nationen kein schnelles und effektives Sicherheitssystem besitzt. Die Vereinten Nationen sind "eine unvollkommene, reformbedürftige, aber doch in vielen Bereichen eminent wichtige internationale Organisation" (ebd. S. 356). Voraussetzung für den Erfolg der Vereinten Nationen ist, dass die Staaten multilaterale Strategien zur Problemlösung bevorzugen. Nur dann können die Vereinten Nationen eine Rolle in der internationalen Politik spielen. Die Mitgliedstaaten sind in der Praxis selten bereit, ihre Außenpolitik in die Hände der Vereinten Nationen zu legen. Die großen und mächtigen Staaten neigen dazu, unilateral vorzugehen. Staaten wollen alleine und, wenn notwendig, gegen andere Staaten handeln, um ihre eigenen Interessen zu verfolgen und zu maximieren. Auch wenn nur im Einzelfall unilateral gehandelt wird, entsteht dadurch trotzdem ein Bruch und gegenseitiges Vertrauen wird schwierig (vgl. ebd.). Aufgrund dessen haben sich alternative Formen der Friedenssicherung entwickelt. Diese müssen einerseits dem veränderten Kriegs- und Konfliktgeschehen standhalten und den Souveränitätsansprüchen der Mitgliedsstaaten. Eine eigene UN-Friedenssicherung sind beispielsweise die Blauhelme, welche durch Auslegung von Kapitel VII der Charta vom Sicherheitsrat seit den 1950er Jahren entsendet werden. Dabei bestehen die Blauhelme in der Regel aus unbewaffneten bis leicht bewaffneten Truppen und Beobachtern. Zu ihren Aufgaben gehört unter anderem die Überwachung der Einhaltung von Waffenstillständen oder dem Friedensvertrag. Die Neutralität steht dabei an oberster Stelle (vgl. Gareis 2015). Die ersten Friedensmissionen der Vereinten Nationen Im Mittelpunkt dieses Abschnittes stehen die Anfänge der Friedenssicherung. Dabei wird die Entwicklung beleuchtet und reflektiert. Weiterhin findet eine Einordnung der Friedenssicherung auf Zypern statt. Die Überwachung des Waffenstillstandes nach dem ersten arabisch-israelischen Krieg 1948 war der erste große Einsatz in der Entstehungsphase der Friedenssicherungen. Die nächste größere Mission bestand aus der Überprüfung des Waffenstillstandes zwischen Indien und Pakistan. Gareis stellt fest, dass es sich ebenfalls um eine zwischenstaatliche Auseinandersetzung handelte. Diese Mission wurde vom VN-Haushalt bezahlt und dauert bis heute an.  Daraus entwickelte sich eine zweite Phase der Friedenssicherung, die Behauptungsphase von 1956-1967 mit neun Einsätzen (Gareis/Varwick 2014, vgl. S.127f). In die Behauptungsphase zählte der Einsatz der Friedenstruppen in Zypern, auf den im späteren Abschnitt des Blogbeitrages eingegangen wird. "Erstmals übernahmen die UN zeitweilige Autorität über ein Territorium auf dem Weg zur Unabhängigkeit, ergänzte zivile Polizei zu einer Friedensoperation, wurde in einen Bürgerkrieg verwickelt, führte einen Einsatz im größeren Ausmaß durch und erlaubte den Blauhelmen das Tragen von Waffen." (Jett 2000, S.23f), neue Aufgaben wurden erkannt. Die Vereinten Nationen bekamen zudem immer mehr Macht, aber hatten damals schon mit ersten Problemen zu kämpfen. Das klassische peacekeeping entstand durch die erste Notstandsgruppe der Vereinten Nationen, der United Nations Emergency Force (UNEFI) beim Einsatz in Ägypten. Hier kam es zu Schwierigkeiten, es konnte im Sicherheitsrat keine einstimme Verurteilung der israelischen Aggression und der ägyptischen Verstaatlichung erreicht werden. Durch das Veto von Großbritannien und Frankreich wurde der Sicherheitsrat lahmgelegt. Die Uniting for Peace-Resolution schaltete die Generalversammlung ein, welche auf den Einsatz von Friedenstruppen drängte. Eigentlich wäre laut Kapitel VII Artikel 24 Abs. 1 der UN-Charta der Sicherheitsrat zuständig gewesen, jedoch waren die Konfliktpartien freiwillig mit einem Einsatz einverstanden. Neben Frankreich und der UdSSR verweigerten einige Staaten die finanzielle Unterstützung. Dieses Problem vertiefte sich nochmal beim Einsatz im Kongo; hier wurde die Verantwortung für die Friedenserhaltung beim Sicherheitsrat gesehen. Folglich wurde der Internationale Gerichtshof eingeschaltet, welcher sowohl dem Sicherheitsrat als auch der Generalversammlung eine Zuständigkeit zusprach (vgl. Sucharipa-Behrmann 1999). Die Autoren stellten fest, dass sich aus der Kongo-Krise ein "akzeptiertes Miteinander dieser beiden Organe" (Gareis/Varwick 2014, S.129) entwickelte, wobei "der Sicherheitsrat die Initiative und Entscheidungsbefugnis stärker an sich gezogen hatte"(Gareis/Varwick 2014, S.129). Zu erkennen war außerdem eine zunehmende Bedeutung des Generalsekretärs, welcher über mehr Spielraum verfügte. Die UNEF-Mission ging durch wichtige Grundprinzipen der Notstandsgruppe durch den Generalsekretär in die Geschichte der internationalen Friedenssicherung ein. Hinzu kam der Konsens der Konfliktparteien, welcher beschlossen wurde und besagt, dass klassische Blauhelm-Soldaten nicht gegen den Willen eines Staates eingesetzt werden dürfen. Dadurch wurde eine Toleranz der Truppen gefördert und eine Bereitschaft für eine Zurverfügungstellung der Truppen, durch die Mitgliedstaaten, geschaffen. Dies waren die Grundlagen für das Modell des klassischen peacekeeping vom Generalsekretär Hammarskjöld (vgl. ebd.). Zu diesem Zeitpunkt wurde zudem die Verantwortlichkeit durch die Leitung des Generalsekretärs beschlossen. Aufgrund dessen entstand die DPKO im VN-Sekretariat. Außerdem wurde ein Budget für jede Friedensmission festgelegt, welches durch die Mitgliedstaaten gefüllt wird. Besonders wichtig ist die Unparteilichkeit der eingesetzten Truppen, welche mit dem Konsensprinzip einhergeht. Aus diesem Grund sollten die Truppen eine ausgewogene regionale Zusammenstellung haben (vgl. Auswärtiges Amt). Darüberhinaus wurde der Einsatz von Waffen zur Selbstverteidigung und zur Durchsetzung der Mission erlaubt. Hier besteht eine Problematik, die am folgenden Beispiel gezeigt werden soll: Bei der Kongo-Operation (1960-1964) sollte für den Rückzug belgischer Truppen aus der Republik Kongo gesorgt werden. Es kam zu einer Ausweitung des Mandats, wodurch ein Bürgerkrieg verhindert und die Regierung beim Aufbau ihres Amtes unterstützt werden sollte. Dafür gab es zum ersten Mal die Legitimation der Waffengewalt im Bezug auf das auszuführende Mandat (Gareis/Varwick 2014, vgl. S.131). Das führte dazu, dass die UNEF dadurch selbst zu Konfliktpartei wurde und sich in die innerstaatlichen Konflikte verwickelte. Der Einsatz wurde im Sommer 1964 beendet, aufgrund dessen, dass die Regierung Kongos einer Mandatsverlängerung nicht zustimmte. Dabei sollte man nicht außer Acht lassen, dass die Vereinten Nationen aus diesem Einsatz ihre Konsequenzen zogen. Zum einen wurden keine großen und komplexen Missionen die nächsten drei Jahrzehnte durchgeführt (vgl. ebd.). Zum anderen waren die Ziele der Friedenssicherung fortan bescheidener. Zudem kehrte man zu den Prinzipien von Hammarskjöld zurück und sicherte sich die Zustimmung der Konfliktparteien vor einem Einsatz. Zusätzlich wurden die Friedensmissionen vom Sicherheitsrat nun beobachtet (vgl. ebd.). An dieser Stelle wird nur kurz auf den Zypern-Einsatz eingegangen, um ihn in die Geschichte der Friedenssicherung der Vereinten Nationen einzuordnen. Der Zypern Einsatz gilt als klassisches peacekeeping und hält bis heute an. Nach Bellamy und Williams versteht sich unter klassischem peacekeeping die Phase zwischen einem Waffenstillstand und dem Abschluss einer politischen Konfliktlösung. Hier gibt es eine Unterstützung der zwischenstaatlichen Friedenssicherung (vgl. ebd. S. 127). Durch eine Resolution des Sicherheitsrats wurde im März 1964 die UNFICYP-Mission eingerichtet. Eine Kampfhandlung zwischen der griechisch-zypriotischen und der türkisch-zypriotischen Volksgruppe sollte verhindert werden. Trotz der Friedensmission kam es zur Teilung der Insel, es gab einen Waffenstillstand und zahlreiche Bemühungen zur Vermittlung durch den Generalsekretär. Seit 1974 wird die Pufferzone von der UNFICYP überwacht und das Mandat ab 1964 jedes halbe Jahr verlängert. Kritik an dem Einsatz gibt es durch die permanente Anwesenheit der Soldaten, wodurch der Eindruck erweckt wird, dass es keine Notwendigkeit einer Friedenslösung gibt.Durch den Einsatz der Bewachung des Waffenstillstandes zwischen dem Irak und Iran (UNIIMOG) und dem Abzug der UdSSR Truppen aus Afghanistan (UNGOMAP), wurde "eine Renaissance des peacekeeping eingeleitet" (vgl. ebd. S.132). Gareis verweist darauf, dass diese "Gute-Dienst-Missionen" vom Sicherheitsrat nur gebilligt und nicht mandatiert wurden. Alles in allem zeigt sich ein durchwachsenes Bild der Friedensmissionen in den ersten vier Jahrzehnten. Festzuhalten ist, dass jede Mission ein Einzelfall ist und separat betrachtet werden sollte. Hinzu kommen die Vorstellungen der UN-Charta, welche in der Realität nahezu utopisch umzusetzen sind. Die Blauhelme wurden zum innovativen Instrument. Ihre Aufgabe ist die Konfliktberuhigung und nicht die Konfliktlösung. Diese Aufgabe konnte in vielen Missionen erreicht werden. Bedenklich ist, dass diese häufig nur mit einer dauerpräsenten Lösung, wie in Zypern erreicht wurden (vgl. Mathis). Durch den Brahimi- Bericht von 2000 gab es neue Perspektiven in der Friedenssicherung der Vereinten Nationen. Diese beinhalten die folgenden drei Kategorien: die Konfliktvermeidung, Konfliktmanagement und die Konfliktnachsorge. Dabei gibt es erstens eine Neuorientierung für die politischen und strategischen Rahmenbedingungen. Zweitens muss das DPKO für eine personelle und strukturelle Voraussetzung der Friedensmission sorgen. Zudem gibt es für die Mitgliedstaaten konkrete geforderte Leistungen (vgl. Gareis/Varwick 2014, vgl. S.146).  Hintergründe des ZypernkonfliktsUm den Zypernkonflikt verständlicher zu gestalten, werden zunächst die politischen Hintergründe beleuchtet. Der Zypernkonflikt ist die Folge der britischen Kolonialpolitik, denn bis 1960 war Zypern eine britische Kolonie (vgl. Gürbey 2014). Der Wunsch nach "Enosis", die Vereinigung mit Griechenland, wuchs unter den griechischen Zyprioten seit dem 19. Jahrhundert. Auf Grundlage der Tatsache, dass Großbritannien die Ionischen Inseln an Griechenland zurückgab, hofften die griechischen Zyprioten auf einen ähnlichen Ausgang. Dieser Wunsch wurde jedoch nicht erfüllt und deshalb gab es schon seit 1931 größere Unruhen, welche die diktatorische Führung unterdrückte (vgl. ebd.). Großbritannien nutzte Zypern geostrategisch. Zypern wurde zum Royal-Air-Force-Stützpunkt für Atombomber und Ansatzpunkt für Spionageflüge im Kalten Krieg (vgl. ebd.). Auf Grund dieser Entwicklung war Zypern für Großbritannien unverzichtbar. Deshalb begann der Unabhängigkeitskampf, bei dem die orthodoxe Kirche eine bedeutende Rolle einnahm. Der Erzbischof Makarios III. nötigte die griechische Regierung, den Zypern-Fall vor die UNO zu bringen (Gorgé 1986, vgl. S. 130). Der britische Premierminister Eden versuchte "die griechische Ambition [...] durch türkische zu neutralisieren" (Richter 2010), also die Türkei miteinzubeziehen und damit beide Länder gegeneinander auszuspielen (vgl. Gürbey 2014). Die türkische Position war glasklar; falls sich beim Status Zypern etwas ändern würde, wäre der Friedensvertrag von Lausanne ungültig und Zypern würde wieder der Türkei gehören. 1922 wurde Frieden mit den Briten geschlossen und sie erhielten die formelle Anerkennung ihrer Herrschaft über Zypern (vgl. Gründer). Richter beschrieb, dass das taktische Manöver Londons aufging und ein neuer griechisch-türkischer Konflikt ausgelöst wurde. Es kam dazu, dass die "divide et impera" Politik Großbritanniens auf die Volksgruppe ausgeweitet wurde. Daraus folge 1956 der griechisch-türkische Minoritäten Konflikt, wobei die Opfer die Istanbuler Griechen waren. Gleichzeitig misslang das Suez-Abenteuer der Briten und Zypern verlor für sie an strategischem Wert. Des Weiteren kam Druck aus den USA, welche die NATO durch die griechisch-türkischen Streitereien gefährdet sahen. Folglich einigten sich Griechenland und die Türkei 1959 zu einer "Scheinlösung" in Zürich. Gleichzeitig wurde der Konflikt nur zwischen den NATO-Verbündeten beigelegt. Wie schon erwähnt, gelang Zypern 1960 die Unabhängigkeit; der innerzypriotische Konflikt blieb jedoch bestehen und verschärfte sich in den nächsten Jahren noch mehr (vgl. Richter 2009). Im Folgenden wird die Position der Bevölkerung verdeutlicht. Die griechischen Zyprioten fordern "Enosis" und die türkischen Zyprioten "Taksim", die Teilung der Insel. Mit der Unabhängigkeit der Insel begann der griechische und türkische Nationalismus auf Zypern (vgl. ebd.). Problematisch waren die Mütterländer, welche den Zypern-Konflikt als nationale Frage ansahen und deshalb enormen Einfluss hatten. Dieser Einfluss wurde durch den Schutz der eigenen Volksgruppe legitimiert (Gorgé 1986, vgl. S. 130f). Zum einen gab es die Strategie von Griechenland; diese war eine Internationalisierung des Konfliktes, um den Druck gegen die Türkei aufzubauen. Dem gegenüber wollte die Türkei den Teilungsprozess forcieren und in seinem Bestand sichern. Ab 1963 gab es blutige Unruhen, weil die griechisch-zypriotische Führung die Verfassungsrechte der türkischen Zyprioten einschränken ließ. An diesem Punkt griffen die USA und die Vereinten Nationen ein und verhinderten eine Eskalation (vgl. Gürbey 2014). Mitwirkung der Vereinten Nationen an einer Lösung des KonfliktesAb 1964 gab es ein Friedensmandat der Vereinten Nationen, durch das eine Sicherung des Burgfriedens gewährleistet werden sollte. Das Wiederaufflammen von Kämpfen sollte verhindert werden, um die Kommunikation der beiden Volksgruppen zu ermöglichen. Die Friedenstruppe UNFICYP wurde vom Sicherheitsrat gesendet und sollte "nach besten Kräften eine Wiederaufnahme von Kämpfen zu verhindern und, soweit notwendig, zur Erhaltung und Wiederherstellung von Recht und Ordnung und zur Rückkehr normaler Lebensbedingungen [in Zypern] beizutragen" (Menning 1974, S.172). Dabei wurde für die Friedenstruppen die zypriotische Nationalgarde und die reguläre türkische Armee zum Konfliktpartner, nicht die bewaffneten Volksgruppen. Außerdem musste die UNFICYP aufpassen, dass lokale Befreiungsversuche nicht als Einmischungsversuche oder Provokation aufgefasst wurden.Festzuhalten ist, dass von 1964 bis Juni 1974 die UNFICYP ein erfolgreicher Vermittler der beiden Volksgruppen war, sodass 1973 eine Kürzung des Mandats stattfand. Auch weil Griechenland und die Türkei einwilligten, dass sie schlichtend auf ihre Volksgruppe einwirken (Menning 1974, vgl. S.172). Der Konflikt spitze sich jedoch wieder zu, im Halbjahresbericht von 1974 erklärte der Generalsekretär, dass weiterhin Misstrauen und Kampfbereitschaft herrscht. Ein Klima von trügerischer Sicherheit war entstanden, die Friedenstruppen wurden als Friedensersatz wahrgenommen, obwohl das Problem ungelöst blieb (Menning 1974, vgl. S.173). Dabei hatte Waldheim in seinem Jahresbericht 1973/74 darauf hingewiesen, dass Friedenseinsätze nicht als Selbstzweck der Vereinten Nationen dienen sollten und "daß eine Friedenssicherungsaktion nicht zu einem Nachlassen der Bemühungen, eine Lösung zu finden, führen dürfe, denn wenn die Konfliktursachen nicht beseitigt werden, könnten sie schließlich das Fundament, auf dem sich die Friedenssicherung aufbaue, zerstören." (Menning 1974, S.173). So kam es 1974 zu einem Putschversuch der Griechen, um die Insel an Griechenland anzubinden. Dieser wurde von dem griechischen Militär ausgelöst und richtete sich gegen die Regierung unter Präsident Makarios. Es gab Differenzen zwischen ihm und der Militärjunta, weil Makarios linksgerichtet war und einen individuellen Kurs mit Zypern vorhatte. Dabei reagierte die Türkei mit einer Invasion. Die Situation eskalierte und die Türkei eroberte fast 40 Prozent der Insel. Die UNFICYP konnte die Angriffe der türkischen Truppen nicht abwehren. Dennoch konnten einige lokale Angriffe auf die Bevölkerung verhindert werden. Außerdem blieb die "Green Line" bestehen und die Kontrolle der Hauptstadt aufrechterhalten. Zudem wurde auf die Forderung von Waldheim eingegangen, welcher in seinem halbjährlichen Bericht Verstärkung angefordert hatte. Im Jahr 1974 stockte die UNFICYP die Zahl der Soldaten von 2.188 auf 4.400 auf. Die Minimierung seit 1971 bis Mitte 1974 war im Nachhinein ein sicherheitspolitischer Fehler der Vereinten Nationen. Nach dem Krieg legte die UNFICYP zwei separate Waffenstillstandslinien fest. Eine UN-Pufferzone wurde von Morphou bis nach Famagusta eingerichtet (vgl. Lugert 2018). Aufgrund dieser Tatsachen war eine Konsolidierung einer Teilung der Inseln der einzige Ausweg. Von nun an gab es einen griechisch-zypriotischen Süden und einen türkisch-zypriotischen Norden. Die Türkei rief 1983 die Unabhängigkeit Nordzyperns aus, dieser Teil wird immer noch nur von der Türkei als Staat anerkannt und wirtschaftlich und politisch gefördert. Der UN-Sicherheitsrat erklärte die Unabhängigkeitserklärung für ungültig und rief andere Staaten dazu auf, dasselbe zu tun (vgl. Gürbey 2014). Faustmann brachte zum Ausdruck, dass Zypern der Ruf als "Friedhof der Diplomatie" (vgl. Faustmann 2009) zusteht. Wie er zu dieser Aussage kam, wird im Weiteren erklärt. Schon im November 1974 forderte die Vereinten Nationen eine Resolution, welche zunächst einen Rückzug der auswärtigen Truppen und die Rückkehr von Flüchtlingen beinhaltete. Darüber hinaus forderten beide Volksgruppen eine Verhandlung unter dem Schutz der Vereinten Nationen. Faustmann wies darauf hin, dass eine Rückkehr zur Verfassungsordnung von 1960 unmöglich für beide Parteien war (vgl. ebd.). Beide Parteien hatten klare Vorstellungen, so forderten die türkischen Zyprioten eine politische Gleichheit als Grundprinzip, allerdings wollte die griechische Seite auch eine Berücksichtigung ihrer prozentualen Bevölkerungsmehrheit von 82% Prozent (vgl. ebd.). In drei Verhandlungsrunden trafen sich die Konfliktparteien unter der Schutzherrschaft der Vereinten Nationen in New York. Nach zähen Verhandlungen kam es 1977 zu einem Abkommen und 1979 zur Erweiterung des Dokuments (vgl. Gürbey 2014). Das Abkommen umfasst die Grundprinzipien einer Wiedervereinigung, die High Level Agreements. Darin wird postuliert, das Zypern als bizonale, bikommunale Föderation wiedervereinigt und entmilitarisiert werden sollte. Außerdem wurden Grundfreiheiten, wie Bewegungs- und Niederlassungsfreiheit und ein Recht auf Eigentum bestimmt. Das Abkommen gestand den türkischen Zyprioten dabei ein einheitliches Territorium zu, wobei die Größe strittig blieb (vgl. Faustmann 2009). Die Ergebnisse der Abkommen zusammengefasst, wird deutlich, dass eine Vereinigung mit Griechenland und eine Teilung ausgeschlossen wurde. Trotz der Unterzeichnung des High Level Agreements kam es zum Stillstand der Verhandlungen. Erst durch die Bemühungen der Vereinten Nationen fanden erneute Verhandlungen statt.Der griechisch-zypriotische Präsident Kyprianoú setzte auf die eigene Internationalisierungskampagne und die Vereinten Nationen. Denktaş forderte die Unabhängigkeit Nordzyperns, sein Streben wurde bestärkt, als eine Resolution der Vereinten Nationen zugunsten der griechischen Seite entschied (vgl. ebd.). Erkennbar wird, wie schwer es für die Vereinten Nationen ist, neutral zu bleiben und beiden Seiten gerecht zu werden. Denktaş führte die türkische Lira als Währung ein und errichtete eine Zentralbank, weiterhin blieb er bei seiner Forderung von einer Unabhängigkeit Nordzyperns. Es kam dazu, dass er am 15. November 1983 die Türkische Republik Nordzypern ausrief. Erst als sich die Beziehung zwischen Griechenland und der Türkei verbesserte, konnten 1988 neue Verhandlungen auf Basis der High Level Agreements beginnen (vgl. ebd.). Man erkannte die wichtige Rolle der beiden Mutterländer, die enormen Einfluss auf die Verhandlungen und die Situation nahmen. Außerdem ließ man eine zu große Einmischung der Vereinten Nationen auch nicht zu, mit den "Set of Ideas" von Generalsekretär Boutros Boutros-Ghali war Denktaş nicht einverstanden. Er forderte Verhandlungen ohne die Vereinten Nationen, weil diese kein Recht für solch umfassende Lösungsvorschläge hätten. Jedoch kam es nie zu Verhandlungen ohne die Vereinten Nationen. Erneute Gespräche endeten 1990, weil die Republik Zypern der EU betreten wollte. Denktaş und die Türkei glaubten, dass die EU keine Konfrontation mit Ankara wollte und der Beitrittsantrag kein Erfolg haben würde, dennoch drohten sie mit einer Annexion des Nordens. Als klar war, die EU würde Zypern auch ohne Lösung des Konflikts aufnehmen, fanden 2002 erneute Verhandlungen unter der Schirmherrschaft der Vereinten Nationen statt. Zugunsten kam diesen die neue AKP-Regierung unter dem linken Oppositionspolitiker Mehmet Ali Talat, welche von der status-quo-Politik abwich und auch Denktaş und seine Nachfolger verschwanden mehr und mehr. Auf türkischer-zypriotischer Seite entstand erstmalig eine moderate Politik. Die griechische Seite wählte mit Tassos Papadopoulos einen Hardliner zum Präsidenten (vgl. ebd.). Dennoch wurden erstmals umfassende Kernpunkte eines politischen Lösungsplans erarbeitet, welcher Anfang 2004 freigestellt wurden, der sogenannte Annan-Plan. Dieser beinhaltete folgendes: "Vom Parlament gewählte Regierung, bestehend aus vier griechischen und zwei türkischen Zyprioten; kollektive Führung mit Vetorechten für beide Volksgruppen; Zwei-Kammern-Parlament nach 1978er Modell; 27 Prozent des Territorium für den Norden; Ambivalenz: Gründung eines neuen Staates durch zwei gleichberechtigte Staaten (wie von der türkischen Seite gefordert, von der griechischen Seite aber als möglichen Ausgangspunkt für eine spätere Abspaltung abgelehnt) oder Umwandlung der bestehenden Republik Zypern in einen neuen Staat (wie von der griechischen Seite gefordert); Ambivalenz: Föderation oder Konföderation; Rückkehr von mehr als der Hälfte der Flüchtlinge unter griechisch-zypriotischer Verwaltung und Umsiedelung von mehreren zehntausend türkischen Zyprioten; Staatsangehörigkeit für mehr als 45 000 türkische Einwanderer, erhebliche und dauerhafte Beschränkungen bei der Rückkehr der griechischen Flüchtlinge und der Niederlassungsfreiheit im Norden; Dauerhafte griechische und türkische Militärpräsenz; Griechenland und die Türkei bleiben zusammen mit Großbritannien Garantiemächte mit Interventionsrecht." (ebd.). Im April 2004 stimmten beide Volksgruppen über den Wiedervereinigungsplan ab. Diese Gelegenheit wurde verpasst, denn 76 Prozent der griechischen Zyprioten stimmten dagegen, weil einige von ihnen hofften, durch den Beitritt in die EU ein besseres Abkommen zu erhalten (vgl. Gürbey 2014). Demgegenüber stand allerdings das türkisch zypriotische Ergebnis des Referendums, welches mit 65 Prozent für eine Wiedervereinigung stimmte. Die Vereinigung Zyperns scheiterte und damit auch der Annan-Plan. Trotzdem trat am 1.Mai 2004 der griechisch Zypriotische Teil der EU bei. Allerdings stellt völkerrechtlich gesehen ganz Zypern EU-Territorium dar, wobei der nördliche Teil ausgegrenzt ist (vgl. ebd.). Seitdem werden immer noch Verhandlungsprozesse unter Aufsicht der Vereinten Nationen geführt. Espen Barth Eide ist seit 2014 der Sonderbeauftragten für den Zypernkonflikt,. Durch ihn gab es eine Einigung, dass eine dritte entscheidende Verhandlungsphase geführt werden soll. Dennoch ging die letzte Verhandlungsrunde für eine Lösung des Zypernkonflikts am 07.07.2017 ohne Ergebnis zu Ende. Hier waren auch die Repräsentanten der sogenannten Garantiemächte Griechenland, Großbritanniens und der Türkei mit dabei. Nun sollen auf Empfehlung von VN-Generalskretär Guterres erstmals eigene Vorstellungen betreffend einer Fortführung des Verhandlungsprozesses gebildet werden (vgl. Auswärtiges Amt 2018).  UNFICYP- Praxisbeispiel für die Leistungen und Probleme der Friedenssicherung Zypern wird durch eine 180 Kilometer lange grüne Line geteilt, welche auch durch die Hauptstadt Nikosia verläuft. Diese Pufferzone wird von den Friedenstruppen der UNFICYP überwacht. Die Waffenstillstandslinie wurde hart umkämpft, sodass sie vor allem in Nikosia nicht gerade verläuft, sondern vor- und zurückspringt. Dadurch ist die Überwachung des Status quo für die UN-Soldaten noch mehr erschwert (Ehrenberg 1991, vgl. S. 1). Seit dem Bürgerkrieg von 1963/64 gab es auf Zypern lange keinen dauerhaften Frieden. Wie schon beschrieben, haben die Sonderbeauftragten des UN-Generalsekretärs schon seit 1964 viele Verhandlungen gestartet, aber immer noch keinen dauerhaften Frieden erreicht. Dabei kam immer wieder der Vorwurf auf, die Vereinten Nationen würden den Kern des Problems nur auf Eis legen und damit könne kein Frieden entstehen (vgl. Gürbey 2014). Unter diesen Umständen versuchen die Friedenstruppen, der Bevölkerung so viel Normalität wie möglich zu gewährleisten. Die Hoffnung, dass durch einen Generationenwechsel sich das Problem von selbst lösen würde, trat nicht ein. Das zeigte sich gerade auf der griechisch-zypriotischen Seite; hier waren die Jugendlichen ernüchtert, weil sich der politische Stillstand nicht überwinden ließ (Ehrenberg 1991, vgl. S.1f). Ein Beispiel hierfür war die Versammlung von 3000 Schülern im November 1988 an der Pufferzone. Sie wollten gegen die türkischen Truppen demonstrieren. Dabei durchbrachen einige von ihnen die grüne Linie, konnten dann aber von UN-Truppen gestoppt werden, bevor sie die türkisch-zypriotischen Truppen erreichten (vgl. ebd. S. 2). Die Jugendlichen bewarfen die UN-Soldaten dabei mit Steinen, Flaschen, Holzstücken und Dachziegeln. Die griechisch-zypriotische Polizei griff erst nach Kommando der UNFICYP-Oberkommandanten ein und räumte mit den UN-Truppen den Platz. Hier ist kritisch anzumerken, dass in der Presse nicht die UN-Soldaten die Helden waren, sondern die Schüler, welche ihr Land zurückerobern wollten. Dabei sollte nicht außer Acht gelassen werden, dass auch die türkisch-zypriotische Seite der UNFICYP die Schuld gab; diese hätten nicht rechtzeitig reagiert (vgl. ebd. S. 2). Demonstrationen wie diese waren kein Einzelfall zu dieser Zeit, ein halbes Jahr später kam es zu einer Frauendemonstration, bei der die UNFICYP noch machtloser war. Auch hier verhielt sich die griechisch-zypriotische Polizei sehr passiv. Die UN-Soldaten wurden von Männern, die am Rand standen, angegriffen. Zudem hatten sich griechisch-orthodoxe Kirchenmänner unter die Frauen gemischt (vgl. ebd. S. 2). Insgesamt zeigt sich, wie schwierig es die Friedenstruppen hatten. Sie mussten sowohl Blutvergießen verhindern und die Konfliktparteien auseinander halten als auch ihre eigene Akzeptanz aufrechterhalten. An diesem Beispiel wird auch deutlich, dass die Friedenstruppen ungerechtfertigte Kritik einstecken mussten. Im folgenden Beispiel wird auf den Waffengebrauch eingegangen. Wie kritisch dieser ist, zeigte sich anhand der Todesschüsse in Athienou Ende Mai 1988. Die Waffen dürfen nur zur Selbstverteidigung gebraucht werden, zum Schutz für das Leben anderer UN-Angehöriger oder Personen, die zu verteidigen sind. Dafür ist immer die Zustimmung des ranghöchsten Soldaten vor Ort nötig (Gareis/Varwick 2014, vgl. S. 117). Athienou gehörte zur griechisch-zypriotischen Seite, war zur damaligen Zeit aber ein umstrittenes Gebiet. Ein türkischer Soldat nahm eine Familie in ihrem Haus als Geiseln. Bevor die UN-Soldaten überhaupt eintrafen, bewegten sich zwei Nationalgardisten auf das Haus zu. Der Geiselnehmer schoss auf die beiden, sodass einer schwer verletzt liegen blieb. Die Nationalgardisten forderten Verstärkung an, ohne Rücksprache mit der UNFICYP. Währenddessen bargen die UN-Soldaten den Verletzten. Die türkischen Streitkräfte wurden nicht über die Geiselnahme informiert. Die UN-Soldaten räumten das Feld, als die griechisch-zypriotische Anti-Terror-Einheit eintraf. Diese stürmte das Haus und tötete den türkischen Soldaten gezielt, obwohl die Geiseln zu diesem Zeitpunkt schon geflohen und in Sicherheit waren (Ehrenberg 1991, vgl. S.3). Ehrenberg erklärte, die UNFICYP hätte eingreifen können. Ob es so klug gewesen wäre, die griechischen Zyprioten mit Androhung von Waffengewalt an der Verletzung der Pufferzone zu hindern, stellt er in Frage. Hieraus ergab sich die Konsequenz, dass die Erwartungen an die UNFICYP viel zu hoch waren, nur aufgrund der Tatsache, dass sie bewaffnet waren. Hier stellt sich die Frage, ob der Waffengebrauch die Sicherheit erhöht und dadurch die Funktion der UN-Soldaten entlastet. Außerdem konnte man beobachten, dass die UN-Friedenstruppen oftmals mindestens einer Konfliktpartei unterlegen waren. Dabei sollte kritisch hinterfragt werden, inwiefern militärische Überlegenheit die politischen und diplomatischen Absichten von Friedenstruppen fördern würde. Dies scheint fraglich, denn würde militärische Übermacht diese nicht eher zerstören (vgl. ebd. S.3ff)?  FazitFestzuhalten bleibt, dass die Friedenssicherung als zentraler Auftrag der Vereinten Nationen gesehen werden kann. In direktem Zusammenhang mit der Durchsetzung der Menschenrechte, weil diese Ziele untrennbar sind und einander beeinflussen. Durch das Interventionsverbot wird eine Einmischung in innere Konflikte durch die Charta ausgeschlossen. Der Sicherheitsrat kann deshalb nicht in innerstaatliche Konflikte und Menschenrechtsverletzungen eingreifen. Daraus folgt, dass es zu aller erst zu Präventionsmaßnahmen kommt; daneben kann der Sicherheitsrat Empfehlungen zur friedlichen Streitbeilegung nach Kapitel VI der Charta geben. Es kann aber auch zu Zwangsmaßnahmen nach Kapitel VII kommen. Dementsprechend steht der Schutz der Zivilbevölkerung permanent im Vordergrund. Allgemein und in Bezug auf die Friedenssicherung gilt für die Vereinte Nationen, dass das Verhalten der Mitgliedstaaten entscheidend ist. Die Vereinten Nationen bieten zwar einen Rahmen, bei dem sich Staaten und ihre Interessen annähern können, aber die Staaten müssen diesen nutzen, um durch Lernprozesse Fortschritte zu machen. Darüber hinaus dürfen die Vereinten Nationen nicht zu viel versprechen; dies gilt gerade im Punkt der Friedenssicherung. Ihre Ankündigung ist oftmals höher als die Möglichkeiten und Aspiration der Mitgliedsstaaten. Andersherum dürfen die Erwartungen an die Vereinten Nationen nicht abwegig sein, sie sind keine Weltregierung. Dennoch bilden sie einen Rahmen für gemeinsame Lösungsansätze. Ziel der vorliegenden Arbeit war es ebenfalls zu erklären, wer für die Friedenssicherung zuständig ist. Dabei wurde festgestellt, dies geschieht durch das Department of Peacekeeping Operations (DPKO), welches die Missionen plant und durchführt. Unterstützt werden sie vom Department of Political Affairs (DPA), welches sich vor allem um diplomatische Bemühungen kümmert. Durch eine Einsatzleitung (Force Commander) vor Ort gibt es noch eine ausführende Leitung der Friedensmission. Deutlich wird die Problematik, dass die Vereinten Nationen keine eigenen Streitkräfte haben. Es kam noch nie zu einem Sonderabkommen in Bezug auf die Streitkräfte. Hier wird deutlich, dass die Anforderungen der Vereinten Nationen an ihre Mitgliedsstaaten zu hoch und den praktischen Möglichkeiten voraus sind. Dafür entwickelten die Vereinten Nationen alternative Formen, wie z.B. die Blauhelme. Zusammenfassend lässt sich sagen, dass es eine Entwicklung bei der Friedenssicherung der Vereinten Nationen gab. Eine Zuständigkeit für die Friedenserhaltung wurde durch den Internationalen Gerichtshof dem Sicherheitsrat und der Generalversammlung zugesprochen. Durch die vergangenen Einsätze wurde außerdem beschlossen, dass die Friedensmissionen vom Sicherheitsrat beobachtet werden. Und die Bedeutung und Verantwortung des Generalsekretärs nahm immer mehr zu. Durch Generalsekretär Hammarskjöld sind wichtige Grundprinzipen der Notstandsgruppe in die Friedenssicherung eingegangen. Daraus folgt der Konsens der Konfliktparteien, wodurch klassische Blauhelm-Soldaten nicht gegen den Willen eines Staates eingesetzt werden dürfen. Dieser Konsens führt dazu, dass die Mitgliedstaaten ihre Truppen eher bereitstellen und die Toleranz der Blauhelme gestärkt wird. Festgestellt wurde außerdem die Wichtigkeit von einer ausgewogenen regionalen Zusammenstellung der Truppen, damit die Unparteilichkeit gewahrt werden kann. Zielsetzung der vorliegenden Arbeit war es, die Friedenssicherung anhand vom Zypern-Konflikt zu schildern, dafür wurden die die politischen Hintergründe beleuchtet. Hier kann man festhalten, es gab unheimlich viele beteiligte Parteien. Zum einen Großbritannien, weil Zypern bis 1960 eine britische Kolonie war und geostrategisch genutzt wurde. Dann Griechenland, die Türkei und die griechischen und türkischen Zyprioten. Es ist zu erkennen, dass Großbritannien die beiden Mütterländer gegeneinander ausspielte. Sie sahen den Zypern-Konflikt als nationale Frage und übten deshalb enormen Einfluss aus, dieser wurde durch den Schutz der eigenen Volksgruppe legitimiert. Durch die Unabhängigkeit Zyperns ab 1960 wurde der innerzypriotische Konflikt nicht gelöst, sondern noch mehr verschärft; dieser endete in blutigen Unruhen. Seit 1964 gibt es ein Friedensmandat der Vereinten Nationen, wodurch das Wiederaufflammen von Kämpfen verhindert werden soll. Wie dieser Blogbeitrag gezeigt hat, musste die UNFICYP darauf achten, dass lokale Befreiungsversuche nicht als Einmischungsversuche oder Provokation aufgefasst wurden. Von 1964 bis Juni 1974 war die UNFICYP ein erfolgreicher Vermittler der beiden Volksgruppen, sodass es 1973 eine Kürzung des Mandats gab. Diese Kürzung erzeugte aber ein Klima von trügerischer Sicherheit, wobei die Friedenstruppen als Friedensersatz wahrgenommen wurden, obwohl das Problem ungelöst blieb. Hier wirft man den Vereinten Nationen vor, dass es zu einem Nachlass der Friedensbemühungen kam und die Friedenseinsätze als Selbstzweck genutzt wurden. Deshalb kam es für viele überraschend, als die Griechen 1974 durch einen Putschversuch die Insel an Griechenland anbinden wollten. Man stellte fest, dass die Minimierung der Blauhelme seit 1971 bis Mitte 1974 als sicherheitspolitischer Fehler der Vereinten Nationen gesehen werden kann. Offen bleibt die Frage, ob die Vereinten Nationen den Krieg 1974 hätten verhindern können. Nach dem Krieg war eine Konsolidierung, eine Teilung der Insel der einzige Ausweg.Von Faustmann bekommt Zypern den Titel "Friedhof der Diplomatie". Festhalten lässt sich, dass es etliche Verhandlungen durch die Vereinten Nationen gab und der Konflikt bis heute nicht gelöst wurde. Auch ein Grund dafür sind die klaren Vorstellungen der beiden Parteien, so forderten die türkischen Zyprioten eine politische Gleichheit als Grundprinzip und die griechische Seite eine Berücksichtigung ihrer prozentualen Bevölkerungsmehrheit. Ein Abkommen konnte im Jahre 1977 erreicht werden und eine Erweiterung 1979, hier wurden die Grundprinzipien einer Wiedervereinigung, die High Level Agreements festgehalten. Es kam immer wieder zum Stillstand der Verhandlungen, welcher meistens erst durch die Bemühungen der Vereinten Nationen unterbrochen wurde. Die Regierungen der beiden Volksgruppen trugen auch dazu bei, dass sich die Verhandlungen so schwierig gestalteten. Erkennbar wird, wie schwer es für die Vereinten Nationen war, neutral zu bleiben und beiden Seiten gerecht zu werden. Erneute Gespräche brachen 1990 ab, weil die Republik Zypern der EU beitreten wollte. Als klar war, die EU würde Zypern auch ohne Lösung des Konflikts aufnehmen, fanden 2002 erneute Verhandlung unter der Schirmherrschaft der Vereinten Nationen statt. Es gab einen Erfolg, denn es wurden erstmals umfassende Kernpunkte eines politischen Lösungsplans erarbeitet, welcher Anfang 2004 fertiggestellt wurde, der sogenannte Annan-Plan. Im April 2004 wurde in den beiden Volksgruppen über den Wiedervereinigungsplan abgestimmt. Diese Gelegenheit verpasste man, weil die griechischen Zyprioten dagegen stimmten. Die Vereinigung Zyperns scheiterte und damit auch der Annan-Plan. Die stille Hoffnung, dass durch ein Generationenwechsel sich das Problem von selbst lösen würde, trat nicht ein. Festzuhalten ist, dass die Friedenstruppen den Zivilisten soviel Normalität wie möglich gewährleisten wollen. Die UN-Soldaten mussten in der Vergangenheit viel einstecken, sie wurden z.B. bei Demonstrationen attackiert oder in der Presse schlecht dargestellt. Insgesamt zeigt sich, wie schwierig es die Friedenstruppen haben. Sie müssen sowohl Blutvergießen verhindern als auch die Konfliktparteien auseinander halten und zum anderen ihre eigene Akzeptanz aufrechterhalten. Ebenso im Zypern-Konflikt wurde die Erlaubnis zum Gebrauch von Waffen zur Selbstverteidigung kontrovers diskutiert. Dadurch waren die Erwartungen an die UNFICYP teilweise zu hoch. Umstritten bleibt, ob der Waffengebrauch die Sicherheit erhöht und dadurch die Funktion der UN-Soldaten entlastet. Hinzu kam die Tatsache, dass die UN-Friedenstruppen oftmals mindestens einer Konfliktpartei unterlegen waren. Dabei stellt sich die Frage, inwiefern militärische Überlegenheit die politischen und diplomatischen Absichten von Friedenstruppen fördert. Die Vereinten Nationen geben den Konflikt nicht auf und führen immer noch Gespräche, nun auch mit der Beteiligung von den sogenannten Garantiemächten Griechenland, Großbritannien und der Türkei. Wünschenswert wäre eine Lösung des Konfliktes, hierfür reicht nicht allein das Engagement der Vereinten Nationen, sondern der Wille und ein Einsatz auf beiden Seiten ist notwendig. Dennoch gibt es eine Freizügigkeit trotz der Trennung. Die Trennungslinie ist keine Außengrenze, sondern hier wird die Freizügigkeit der Bürger*innen gewährleistet. Dadurch können EU-Bürger*innen und somit auch griechische und türkische Zyprioten*innen diese Linie an sieben Übergängen mit dem Personalausweis passieren. Literaturverzeichnis:Textquellen:Auswärtiges Amt: ABC der Vereinten Nationen. Edition Diplomatie, hg. Von Günther Unser, 7. Auflage, Berlin 2011, S. 57.Ehrenberg, Eckhart (1991): Die UNFICYP: Praxisbeispiel für Leistungen und Probleme der Eriedenssicherung vor Ort, In: Vereinte Nationen 1/1991, vgl. S.1-6.Gareis, Sven Bernhard/ Warwick, Johannes (2014): Die Vereinten Nationen, hg. Verlag Barbara Budrich Opladen & Toronto, 5.Auflage, vgl. S.111-148.Gorge, Remy (1986): Zypern und die Mutterländer, In: Vereinte Nationen 4/86, vgl. S.130-134.Jett, Dennis C. (2000): Why Peacekeeping Fails, In: New York, vol. S.23f.Menning, Gerhard (1974): Zypern-Mitwirkung der UNO an einer Lösung des Konflikts, In: Vereinte Nationen 6/74, vgl. S.172-176.Sucharipa-Behrmann, Lilly (1999): Die friedenserhaltende Operation der Vereinten Nationen, In: Cede/Sucharipa-Behrmann 1999, vgl. S. 232-239.Internetquellen:Auswärtiges Amt (2018): Aktuelle Lage im Zypernkonflikt, unter: https://www.auswaertiges-amt.de/de/aussenpolitik/laender/zypern-node/-/210292 (eingesehen am 26.09.2020).Auswärtiges Amt (2020): UN-Friedensmissionen und deutsches Engagement, unter: https://www.auswaertiges-amt.de/de/aussenpolitik/internationale-organisationen/uno/04-friedensmissionen-un/205586 (eingesehen am 26.09.2020).Deutsche Gesellschaft für die Vereinte Nationen: Organe der UN-Friedenssicherung, unter: https://frieden-sichern.dgvn.de/friedenssicherung/organe/ (eingesehen am 26.09.2020).Faustmann, Hubert (2009): Die Verhandlungen zur Wiedervereinigung Zyperns: 1974 - 2008, unter: https://www.bpb.de/apuz/32118/die-verhandlungen-zur-wiedervereinigung-zyperns-1974-2008 (eingesehen am 26.09.2020).Gareis, Sven Bernhard (2015): UNO – Stärken und Schwächen einer Weltorganisation, unter: https://www.bpb.de/izpb/209686/uno-staerken-und-schwaechen-einer-weltorganisation?p=1 (eingesehen am 26.09.2020).Gürbey, Dr. Gülistan (2014): Der Zypernkonflikt, unter: https://www.bpb.de/internationales/europa/tuerkei/185876/der-zypernkonflikt (eingesehen am 26.09.2020).Lugert, Alfred (2018): Der Fall Zypern - Teil 3, unter: https://www.truppendienst.com/themen/beitraege/artikel/der-fall-zypern-teil-3/#page-1 (eingesehen am 26.09.2020).Mathis, Edeltraud: Friedenssicherung als zentraler UN Auftrag, unter: https://www.brgdomath.com/politik-wirtschaft/gerechtfertigter-krieg-tk19/uno-und-un-weltsicherheitsrat/ ( eingesehen am 26.09.2020).Mehr zu den Wiedervereinigungs-Verhandlungen (2010), unter: http://friedensbildung.de/inhalt-der-ausstellung/zypern/verhandlungen/ (eingesehen am 26.09.2020).Richter, Heinz (2009): Historische Hintergründe des Zypernkonflikts, unter: https://www.bpb.de/apuz/32116/historische-hintergruende-des-zypernkonflikts?p=all (eingesehen am 26.09.2020).

ROHRBACH - BERG Rohrbach - Berg ( - ) Einband ( - ) Titelseite (III) Impressum (IV) Inhalt (V) Zur Geschichte der Besiedlung und Entwicklung von Rohrbach - Berg von den Anfängen bis in die Neuzeit ([1]*) Überblick (2*) Allgemeine Voraussetzungen (3*) Naturräumliche Gegebenheiten (3*) [Karte]: (4*) Die Verkehrslage (5*) Das mittelalterliche Gesellschaftssystem (6*) Das alltägliche Leben (11*) [Abb.]: Burgplatz im Nöstelbacherhölzl. (14*) [Abb.]: Größte Einfachheit ist typisch für den Burgenbau vor 1200, Holz ist das wichtigste Baumaterial (15*) Die Herkunft der ersten Siedler (16*) Folgende Dorfnamen von Rohrbach-Berg weisen deutliche Anklänge an Ortsnamen unserer benachbarten Gegenden auf: (17*) Rohrbach - Berg im Lauf der Geschichte (20*) Vorgeschichte und Römerzeit (20*) Die Zeit vor Christi Geburt (20*) Die Römerzeit (21*) Rohrbach-Berg im Mittelalter (500-1500) (22*) Im "Land der Abtei" (1010-1161) (22*) Rohrbach-Berg im Hochstift Passau (1161- ca. 1400) (25*) a) Burgenkette und Rodungsgeschlechter (26*) Die Berger (Perger, de monte) (28*) [3 Abb.]: (1)Perger am Perg. (2)Falkenstein II. (3)Haichenbach I. (28*) Die Falkensteiner und Haichenbacher (29*) Stammtafel. (30*) Die Sprinzensteiner (32*) Die Hautzenberger (33*) Die Herleinsberger (34*) [2 Abb.]: (1)Hautzenberger (2)Herleinsperger (34*) Die Ruestorfer (35*) [Abb.]: Ruestorf. (35*) b) Die Einzelhöfe (37*) c) Die Dörfer (42*) d) Der Markt Rohrbach (43*) Überlegungen zur Baugeschichte von Rohrbach (47*) Die Gründung des Marktes Rohrbach (47*) [Karte]: Nach den derzeitigen Unterlagen kann man die erste Bauperiode von Rohrbach und damit den Burgfried nach folgender Skizze rekonstruieren: (48*) Zu dieser Kartenskizze (49*) Zum quadratischen Marktplatz: (50*) Änderungen im 14. Jahrhundert (51*) [Abb.]: Rohrbachs gotische Reste. Die vorkragenden Steine sind Zeugen gotischer Bausubstanz, die sich im Erdgeschoß mancher Häuser erhalten haben. Abgebildetes Haus: Rohrbach 17 (Marktplatz 30). Entstanden zwischen 1450 und 1600 (52*) Nach 1427/1446 (53*) [Karte]:Versuch der Rekonstruktion, wie der Bau einer Befestigungsmauer möglich gewesen wäre: ([54]*) Mauer und Graben? (55*) [Karte]: Rohrbach um 1450 Versuch der Rekonstruktion des Rohrbacher Baubestandes nach dem Wiederaufbau nach der Zerstörung durch die Hussiten (1427/1446) ([56]*) (Fortsetzung von S. 53*) (57*) [Abb.]: Markverleihungsurkunde 1459 (58*) Der Markt und die Märkte (59*) [Abb.]:Der Viehmarkt in Rohrbach. Ansicht des Rohrbacher Marktplatzes als Viehmarkt aus der Zeit um 1900 (60*) Im Mühl- und Machlandviertel (= oberes und unteres Mühlviertel) waren die Wochenmärkte in folgender Weise organisiert: (61*) [Abb.]: Rohrbacher Viehmarkt. Zeitungsdruck aus der Zeit um 1895 (62*) Rohrbach im 16. und 17. Jahrhundert (65*) Das Urbar 1570 (66*) Behauste Güter im Markt Rohrbach (66*) [Karte]: Rohrbach um 1570. Versuch der Rekonstruktion des Baubestandes von Rohrbach zur Zeit der Anlage des ersten Urbars 1570 (67*) Bemerkungen zu den Eintragungen: (69*) Rohrbach-Berg im Bauernkrieg von 1595 bis 1598 (70*) Rohrbach-Berg im Bauernkrieg 1626 (77*) Eine Marktordnung vom Jahr 1667 (81*) [2 Abb.]: Werke der Steinmetzkunst geben Zeugnis vom Fleiß und auch vom sicheren Formbewußtsein dieser Kunsthandwerker (1)Oben: Brunnen vom Jahr 1795 (Rohrbach 4, Marktplatz 17) (2)Unten: Steintisch um 1800 (Rohrbach 41, Marktplatz 37) (83*) Die Grundherrschaft (86*) Die Menschen von Rohrbach-Berg gehörten zu 14 Grundherrschaften; diese ergeben, nach der größe des Herrschaftsgebietes geordnet, folgende Reihung der Herrschaften: (86*) [Abb.]: Die Freyung von Rohrbach. Das Richtschwert über dem Marktwappen (drei Schilfkolben auf moorigem grund) ist Symbol der (niedrigen) Gerichtsbarkeit des Magistrates über seine Untertanen (88*) Die Marktrichter von Rohrbach [1307 1849] (89*) [2 Abb]: (1)Rechts: Handwerksschild vom Jahr 1764 (Rohrbach 41, Marktplatz 37) (2)Links: Die Barockfassade eines höchst selbstbewußten Bürgerhauses (Rohrbach 41, Marktplatz 37) ([91]*) [Abb.]: Rohrbach um 1830. Ansicht des Marktplatzes von Rohrbach. Aquarell aus der Zeit um 1830. Original Privatbesitz in Rohrbach (92*) Gemeindevorsteher nach dem neuen Gesetz. Die Bürgermeister von Rohrbach [1849 - 1983] (93*) [2 Abb.]: (1)Rohrbach 1879. Bleistiftzeichnung im Skizzenbuch von Carl Radler (2)Rohrbach - Bahnhofsstraße. Ansichtskarte aus der Zeit um 1910 ([94]*) Die Bürgermeister der Gemeinde Berg [1865 - 1979] (95*) [Abb.]: Rohrbach 1885. Bleistiftzeichnung von Peter Krenn aus dem Jahr 1885 (96*) Geschichte der Pfarre Rohrbach (98*) Zum Ausklang. (97*) Geschichte der Pfarre Rohrbach (98*) [Abb.]: Rohrbach Rathaus u. Kirche (98*) Erster Teil Bau- und Kunstgeschichte ([99]*) [2 Abb.]: Zwei Ansichten Rohrbachs mit dem früheren Kirchturm ([100]*) Der Bau der barocken Pfarrkirche (1697 - 1700) (101*) Die zehn ältesten Gedenksteine (106*) 1. Grabstein 1562 (oder 1582) (106*) [Abb.]: I. Grabstein Sebastian Aigner 1562 ( oder 1582) (107*) 2. Porträt-Grabstein 1583 (108*) 3. Familiengrabstein Oedt 1583 (108*) [Abb.]: 2. Porträtgrabstein Sebastian von Oedt 1583 (109*) [Plan]: Plan der Pfarrkirche Rohrbach 1696 (110 - 111*) [Abb.]: 3. Familiengrabstein Oedt 1583 ([112]*) 4. Grabstein Weinberger 1641 5. Grabstein Stöger 1688 (113*) [Abb.]: 4. Grabstein Michael weinberger 1641 (114*) [Abb.]: 5. Grabstein Stöger 1688 ([115]*) 6. Wappenschild 1699 (116*) [Abb.]: 6. Wappenschild 1699 (117*) 7. Grabstein Gruber 1706. 8. Grabstein Oedt 1719 (118*) [Abb.]: 7. Grabstein Zacharias Gruber 1706 (119*) [Abb.]: 8. Grabstein Erasmus Anton von Oedt 1719 (120*) 9. Gedenkstein 1720. 10. Wappenstein der Familie Rödern 1743 (121*) [2 Abb.]: (1)Das Portal der Pfarrkirche Rohrbach mit dem Wappenschild des Abtes Michael Felder von dem Jahr der Fertigstellung des Gooteshauses. (2)Das Taufbecken der Pfarrkirche Rohrbach, bald nach 1700 entstanden, Tischlerarbeiten von H. g. Stempl (?), Figuren der Taufe Jesu geschnitzt vom Bildhauer G. W. Wagner (?) ([122]*) Kunstgeschichtliche Führung durch die Pfarrkirche Rohrbach (123*) [Abb.]: Pfarrkirche - Langhaus (124*) [Abb.]: Pfarrkirche - Hochaltar (126*) [Abb.]: Blick zur Anna-Kapelle, Rödern-Wappen (128*) [Abb.]: Pfarrkirche - Kanzel ([130]*) [Abb.]: Die sieben Zufluchten. Andachtsbild um 1800. (132*) [Abb.]: Pfarrkirche - Marienaltar (136*) [Abb.]: Pfarrkirche, Orgel (138*) [2 Abb.]: (1)Rathaus Rohrbach. Die Fleischlauben mit stuckierten Wappenschildern aus der Zeit des Barock um 1750 (2)Rathaus Rohrbach. Der Kern des Gebäudes enthält noch gotische Bausubstanz aus der Zeit um 1450 in sich (142*) [Tabelle]: Die Glocken, die am 4. Dezember 1949 von Abt Cajetan Lang die kirchliche Segnung erhielten, sind folgende: (143*) Sonstige Sehenswürdigkeiten (143*) [Abb.]: Die Dreifaltigkeitssäule (1743). Ansichtskarte vom Jahr 1910 (144*) [Abb.]: Dreifaltigkeitssäule (146*) Wallfahrtskirche Maria - Trost am Berg bei R. (150*) Bau- und Kunstgeschichte der Wallfahrtskirche Maria Trost am Berg bei Rohrbach (150*) [Abb.]: Maria-Trost-Kirche (150*) [2 Abb.]: (1)Rechts: Hochaltar der Wallfahrtskirche Maria Trost (2)Links: Kapelle mit zwei Engeln (152*) [Abb.]: St. Sebastian - Altar (154*) Kapellen und Denkmäler rund um die Berger Kirche (157*) Das Benefizium mit Kirche und Benefiziatenhaus wurde am 14. November 1912 vom Stift Schlägl angekauft, und von diesem Zeitpunkt an versehen Schlägler Chorherren das Benefizium und damit die Seelsorge an der Wallfahrtskirche Maria Trost: (157*) [2 Abb.]: (1)Oben Buchet - Kapelle, (2)Unten Hl. Grab (158*) Kapellen am Wallfahrtsweg von Haslach zum Berg (159*) [Karte]: (160*) Die Maria-Hilf-Kapelle (162*) [Abb.]: Deckenfresko der Maria Hilf-Kapelle (1764). (162*) [Abb.]: Der Schickanus. Statue des hl. Ivo von Helori 1720/30 (164*) Kapellen am Wallfahrtsweg von Rohrbach zum Berg (165*) [2 Abb.]: (1)Links: Die Statue der hl. Mutter Anna der Maria-Hilf-Kapelle kann als Werk des Bildhauers Johann Worath (1609 - 1680) angesprochen werden. (2)Rechts: Die Maria-Schnee-Kapelle befindet sich am Wallfahrtsweg, der von Haslach zum Berg führt ([166]*) Die Michaels-Kapelle bei Krien (168*) [Abb.]: St. Michaels - Kapelle bei Krien (168*) Geschichte der Pfarre Rohrbach Zweiter Teil Kirchen- und Pfarrgeschichte von Isfried H. Pichler (171*) [Abb.]: der Apostel Jakobus als Pilger und Prediger im Siegel des Pfarramtes Rohrbach (172*) Kirchen- und Pfarrgeschichte (173*) Patrozinium St. Jakob (173*) Der Umfang der Pfarre Rohrbach im Mittelalter kann nicht ganz genau, aber doch im wesentlichen angegeben werden: (175*) Inkorporation an das Stift Schlägl (176*) Die Pfarrer des 14. Jahrhunderts (179*) Das Herleinsperger-Benefizium St. Georg (1413) (182*) Die Pfarrer des 15. Jahrhunderts (184*) St. Wolfgang am Stein (185*) Filialkirche Oepping (193*) [2 Abb.]: (1)Oben: Votivkirche mit Darstellung des ehemaligen Bürgerspitals (Rohrbach 33) an der Bahnhofstraße (2)Rechts: Der Hahn auf dem Rathaus zu Rohrbach ([196]*) Rohrbach im Jahrhundert der Reformationswirren (1526 - 1626) (197*) Pfarrer Johannes Pigler (1526 - 1533) (197*) Pfarrer Georg Nadler (1533 - 1544) Pfarrer Christoph Kreuss (-1561-) (198*) Pfarrer Andreas Schueschitz (1568 - 1570) Pfarrer Michael Träxel (1570 - 1583) (199*) Pfarrer Kaspar Diethmayr (1583 - 1587) (200*) Pfarrer David Gebhardt (1588 - 1595 und 1599 - 1623) (200*) Martin Huber. Wolfgang Mayeröberl. Hieronymus Kammerstock (1597 - 1599) Pfarrer David Gebhardt (201*) Pfarrer Michael Pögl (1623 - 1625) Pfarrer Wilhelm Georg Göhl (1625 - 1626) (202*) Rohrbach im 17. Jahrhundert (1626 - 1695) (203*) Pfarrer David Goll (1627 - 1629) (203*) Pfarrer Johannes Rehbock (1629 - 1645) (203*) [Abb.]: Widmung der "Exempla tragica" von Theodorich von Rödern an den Rohrbacher Pfarrer Domink Wirth. Dieses Büchlein kam 1670 in die Stiftsbibliothek Schlägl ([204]*) Pfarrer Matthäus Ill (1646 - 1651) (205*) Pfarrer Dominik Wirth (1651 - 1674) (205*) Pfarrer Benedikt Fischer (1674 - 1695) (206*) Die Pfarrer des 18. Jahrhunderts (207*) Pfarrer Wilhelm Kammerruck (1695 - 1705) (207*) Pfarrer Dr. Adalbert Landgraf (1705 - 1727) (207*) [Abb.]: Glorreicher Röderischer Schutz- und Trost-Berg Mariae. (208*) Pfarrer Dr. Franz Posch (1727 - 1731) (209*) Pfarrer Dominik kammerruck (1731 - 1749) (210*) Pfarrer Mathias Wöss (1749 - 1775) (211*) Pfarrer Michael Schmidinger (1775 - 1782) (211*) [Abb.]: Rohrbach 1933 Zeitungsdruck des Viehmarktes vom jahr 1933. Interessant die steilen, schindelgedeckten Dächer (212*) Pfarrer Augustin Bachmann (1782 - 1797) (213*) [Abb.]: Pfarrer Bruno Spalt ist als erster Rohrbacher Pfarrer im Bildnis überliefert. Porträt von Franz Wenger 1802 (214*) Pfarrer Bruno Spalt (1797 - 1805) (215*) Die Pfarrer des 19. Jahrhunderts (216*) Pfarrer Franz Xaver Popp (1805 - 1813) (216*) Pfarrer Norbert Ruezinger (1813 - 1830) (216*) Pfarrer Friedrich Bayer (1830 - 1840) (217*) Pfarrer Dr. Ferdinand Ramet (1840 - 1866) (218*) Pfarrer Konrad Weinbauer (1866 - 1878) (218*) Pfarrer Ludwig Freyinger (1878 - 1887) (219*) Pfarrprovisor Hermann Voraberger (1887/88) (220*) Pfarrer Raphael Cambefort (1888 - 1898) (221*) Die Pfarrer des 20. Jahrhunderts (222*) Pfarrer Ferdinand Laad (1898 - 1917) (222*) Pfarrer Norbert Wipplinger (1917 - 1928) (222*) Pfarrer Pius Feldler (1928 - 1931) (223*) [Abb.]:Hugo H. Haimann (18. 7. 1880 - 12. 2. 1961) (224*) Pfarrer Hugo Haimann (1931 - 1946) (225*) [Abb.]: Jakob L. Pichler (2. 11. 1892 - 26. 5. 1961) ([226]*) Pfarrer Jakob Pichler (1946 - 1961) (227*) Pfarrer Johannes Felhofer (1961 - 1963) (228*) Pfarrer Otto Karasek (1963 - 1967) (228*) Pfarrprovisor Bruno Grünberger (1967) (229*) Pfarrer Albert Dorninger (seit (1967) (229*) [Abb.]: Rohrbacher Pfarrblatt ([230]*) Literaturverzeichnis (232*) [Abb.]: Das Hirtenhäusl (Rohrbach 34, an der Bahnhofstraße) hat die alte Bauweise der einfachen Häuser des Böhmerwaldgebietes dokumentarisch bewahrt, bis es 1939 abgetragen worden ist. Typisch ist das gemauerte Sockelgeschoß, auf dem der Aufbau in Holzbauweise errichtet worden ist. Ebenso typisch ist das flache Dach, dessen Legeschindeln mit Steinen beschwert wurden. (240*) Anhang. Register der Personen- und Ortsnamen und der wichtigsten Sachbegriffe ([241]*) A, B (242*) C - E (243*) F (243*) G (244*) H (244*) I = J (245*) K (245*) L (246*) M (246*) N, O (247*) P (247*) R (248*) S (249*) SCH (249*) St, T (250*) U (250*) V - Z (251*) Häuserchronik Rohrbach - Berg ([1]) I. Teil Straßenverzeichnis Rohrbach - Berg ([1]) Einleitung (2) Akademiestrasse (Ro 1). Am Binderhügel (Ro 2) (5) Am Schlosserhügel (6) Angerweg (Bg 7) (6) Bahnhofstrasse (Ro 3, Bg 8) (7) [Karte]: Gemeinde Berg bei Rohrbach Strassenkarte (9) [Karte]: Strassenkarte Rohrbach (10 - [11]) Illustrationen (12) Bergfeld (Bg 20) (13) Berggasse (Ro 4, Bg 11) (14) Bergweg (Bg 17) (15) Birkenweg (Ro 5) (16) Böhmerwaldstrasse (Ro 6) (17) Brucknerstrasse (Ro 7) (17) [Abb.]: Anton Bruckner (1824 - 1896) (18) Ehrenreiterweg (Ro 8). Erlengrund (Bg 9) (19) Fadingerstrasse (Ro 9) (20) Feldweg (Ro 43) (20) Friedhofweg (Ro 10). Fürlingerberg (Bg 1) (21) Gartenstrasse (Ro 11) Götzendorfer Steig (Ro 12) (22) Grabenstrasse (Ro 13) (23) [Abb.]: Franz Grillparzer (1791 - 1872) (24) Grillparzerstrasse (Ro 14). Hafnerweg (Bg 21) (25) Hanriederstrasse (Ro 15) (25) [Abb.]: Norbert hanrieder (1842 - 1913) ([27]) Harrauerstrasse (Ro 17) (28) Haslacherstrasse (Ro 18) (29) Hofmark (Bg 10) (30) Höhenweg (Bg 14) Hopfengasse (Ro 19) (31) Im Tal (Bg 6) Krankenhausstrasse (Ro 20) (32) Lerchenweg (Ro 22) (33) Linzer Strasse (Ro 23) (33) [Abb.]: Maria-Trost bei Rohrbach. ([34]) Maria Trost (Bg 15) (35) Marktplatz (Stadtplatz (Ro 24) (35) Mayrhoffeld (Ro 26) (37) Mitterfeld (Ro 27) (38) Mitterweg (Bg 18) (38) Molkereistrasse (Bg 2) (39) Muldenweg (Ro 28) Parkweg (Ro 29) (40) Pfaffenberg (Bg 13) Pfarrgasse (Ro 30) (41) Poeschlgasse (Ro 31) Rödernweg (Bg 16) (42) Schnopfhagenstrasse (Ro 32) (42) [Abb.]: Hans Schnopfhagen (1845 - 1908) ([43]) Schulstrasse (Ro 34) (44) Schulweg (Bg 12) (45) Siedlungsstrasse (Ro 35) (45) Spielplatzgasse (Bg 5) (46) Spitalfeld (Ro 36) (46) Sportplatzgasse (Ro 37) Stadtplatz: Siehe Marktplatz Steinland (Ro 38) (47) [Abb.]: Franz Stelzhamer (1802 - 1874) (48) Stelzhamerstrasse (Ro 39) (49) Stifterstrasse (Ro 40, Bg 19) (49) [Abb.]: Adalbert Stifter (50) Stift - Schlägler - Siedlung (Bg 4) (52) Wagner von der Mühl-Strasse (53) Wandschamlweg (Ro 41) (54) Wimholzsiedlung (Bg 3) (54) Wirtschaftszeile (Ro) (55) [Abb.]: Wagner von der Mühl: Seine Eltern erwarben 1890 Rohrbach 66 (Marktplatz 9) (56) Epilog (56a) Brände in Rohrbach: (56a) [Zeitunsartikel]: Rohrbach. Der Umbau des alten Baderhauses (56b) Rohrbach 41 (Marktplatz 37): (56c) 2. Teil Häuserchronik Rohrbach - Berg ([57]) Einleitung (58) Wie ist die Häuserchronik aufgebaut und wie ist sie zu lesen? (59) Verzeichnis der erhaltenen und für die Häuserchronik Rohrbach - Berg bearbeiteten Bände des "alten" Grundbuches, die im oberösterreichischen Landesarchiv (4020 Linz, Anzengruberstraße 19) aufbewahrt werden. (63) Häuserchronik Rohrbach (67) Rohrbach 1: Linzer Straße 10 (67) Rohrbach 2: Linzer Straße 8 (67) Rohrbach 3: Marktplatz 16 (68) Rohrbach 4: Marktplatz 17 (69) Rohrbach 5: Marktplatz 18 (70) Rohrbach 6: Marktplatz 19 (70) Rohrbach 7: Marktplatz 20 (71) Rohrbach 8: Marktplatz 21 (72) Rohrbach 9: Marktplatz 22 (73) Rohrbach 10: Marktplatz 23 (73) Rohrbach 11: Marktplatz 24 (74) Rohrbach 11a: Marktplatz 24 Rohrbach 12: Marktplatz 25 (75) Rohrbach 13: Marktplatz 26 (76) Rohrbach 14: Marktplatz 27 (76) Rohrbach 15: Marktplatz 28 (77) Rohrbach 16: Marktplatz 29 (78) Rohrbach 17: Marktplatz 30 (79) Rohrbach 18: Hanriederstraße 3 (79) Rohrbach 19: Hanriederstraße 18 (80) Rohrbach 20: Hanriederstraße 8 (80) Rohrbach 21: Hanriederstraße 6 (81) Rohrbach 22: Hanriederstraße 4 (82) Rohrbach 23: Hanriederstraße 2 (82) Rohrbach 24: Marktplatz 31 (83) Rohrbach 25: Marktplatz 32 (84) Rohrbach 26: Marktplatz 33 (85) Rohrbach 27: Marktplatz 34 (85) Rohrbach 28: Marktplatz 35 (86) Rohrbach 29: Bahnhofstraße 3 (87) Rohrbach 30: Bahnhofstraße 9 Rohrbach 31: Harrauerstraße 1 (88) Rohrbach 32: (Bahnhofstraße) Rohrbach 33: (Bahnhofstraße) Rohrbach 34: (Bahnhofstraße) (89) Rohrbach 35: Bahnhofstraße 16 (90) Rohrbach 36: Bahnhofstraße 14 (90) Rohrbach 37: Bahnhofstraße 12 (91) Rohrbach 38: Bahnhofstraße 10 (92) Rohrbach 39: Bahnhofstraße 4 (92) Rohrbach 40: Marktplatz 36 (93) Rohrbach 41: Marktplatz 37 (93) Rohrbach 42: Poeschlgasse 3 (94) Rohrbach 43: Poeschlgasse 5 (95) Rohrbach 44 und 81: Berggasse 1 und Poschlgasse 7 (96) Rohrbach 45: Berggasse 5 (97) Rohrbach 46: Berggasse 2 (97) Rohrbach 47: Pfarrgasse 8 (98) Rohrbach 48: Pfarrgasse 6 (98) Rohrbach 49: Pfarrgasse 4 (99) Rohrbach 50: Poeschlgasse 2 (100) Rohrbach 51: Marktplatz 38 (101) Rohrbach 52: Marktplatz 39 (101) Rohrbach 53: Marktplatz 40 (102) Rohrbach 54: Marktplatz 41 (103) Rohrbach 55: Marktplatz 42 (103) Rohrbach 56: Marktplatz 43 (104) Rohrbach 57: Marktplatz 44 (105) Rohrbach 58: Marktplatz 1 (105) Rohrbach 59: Marktplatz 2 (106) Rohrbach 60: Marktplatz 3 (107) Rohrbach 61: Marktplatz 4 (108) Rohrbach 62: Marktplatz 5 (109) Rohrbach 63: Marktplatz 6 (109) Rohrbach 64: Marktplatz 7 (110) Rohrbach 65: Marktplatz 8 (111) Rohrbach 66: Marktplatz 9 (111) Rohrbach 67: Marktplatz 10 (112) Rohrbach 68: Marktplatz 11 (113) Rohrbach 69: Marktplatz 12 (113) Rohrbach 70: Marktplatz 13 (114) Rohrbach 71: Marktplatz 14 (115) Rohrbach 72: Linzer Straße 1 (115) Rohrbach 73: Linzer Straße 5 (116) Rohrbach 74: Linzer Straße 7 Rohrbach 75: Linzer Straße 11 (117) Rohrbach 76: Stifterstraße 1 (118) Rohrbach 77: Stifterstraße 7 (118) Rohrbach 78, 79 siehe: Mayrhof Rohrbach 80: Bahnhofstraße 6 (119) Rohrbach 81 Rohrbach 82: Linzer Straße 3 Rohrbach 83: Linzer Straße 9 (120) Rohrbach 84: Linzer Straße 2 Rohrbach 85: Marktplatz 15 Rohrbach 86: Bahnhofstraße 8 (121) Rohrbach 87: Hanriederstraße 15 Rohrbach 88: Linzer Straße 4 (122) Rohrbach 89: Linzer Straße 6 (122) Rohrbach 90: Hanriederstraße 16 Rohrbach 91 und 100: Linzer Straße 12 und 14 Rohrbach 92: Bahnhofstraße 7 - 9 - 11 (123) Rohrbach 93: Hanriederstraße 5 Rohrbach 94: Hanriederstraße 9 Rohrbach 95: Hanriederstraße 7 Rohrbach 96: Harrauerstraße 4 (124) Rohrbach 97 und 98: Poeschlgasse 4 und 6 Rohrbach 99: Hanriederstraße 20 Rohrbach 100: Linzer Straße 14 Rohrbach 101: Hanriederstraße 14 (125) Rohrbach 102: Hanriederstraße 2a Rohrbach 103 und 104: Stifterstraße 9 und 11 Rohrbach 105: Stifterstraße 8 Rohrbach 106: Hopfengasse 3 (126) Rohrbach 107: Bahnhofstraße 15 Rohrbach 108: Bahnhofstraße 13 Rohrbach 109: Grabenstraße 1 (127) Rohrbach 110: Stfiterstraße 23 (127) Rohrbach 111: Stfiterstraße 15 Rohrbach 112: Bahnhofstraße 5 Rohrbach 113: Stfiterstraße 17 (128) Rohrbach 114: Bahnhofstraße 28 (128) Rohrbach 115: Hanriederstraße 22 Rohrbach 116: Siedlungsstraße 23 Rohrbach 117: Siedlungsstraße 21 (129) Rohrbach 118: Siedlungsstraße 19 Rohrbach 119: Siedlungsstraße 17 Rohrbach 120: Siedlungsstraße 15 Rohrbach 121: Siedlungsstraße 20 (130) Rohrbach 122: Siedlungsstraße 22 Rohrbach 123: Siedlungsstraße 24 Rohrbach 124: Siedlungsstraße 26 Rohrbach 125: Siedlungsstraße 28 (131) Rohrbach 126: Siedlungsstraße 30 Rohrbach 127: Siedlungsstraße 32 Rohrbach 128: Stifterstraße 19 Rohrbach 129: Stifterstraße 21 (132) Rohrbach 130: Hanriederstraße 26 Rohrbach 131, 132, 133: Harrauerstraße 9, 11, 13 Rohrbach 134: Friedhofweg 2 Rohrbach 135: Harrauerstraße 6, 8 (133) Rohrbach 136: Harrauerstraße 18 (133) Rohrbach 137: Harrauerstraße 20 Rohrbach 138: Harrauerstraße 22 Rohrbach 139: Harrauerstraße 24 (134) Rohrbach 140: Harrauerstraße 26 Rohrbach 141: Harrauerstraße 28 Rohrbach 142: Harrauerstraße 23 Rohrbach 143: Harrauerstraße 21 (135) Rohrbach 144: Siedlungsstraße 2 (135) Rohrbach 145: Siedlungsstraße 4 Rohrbach 146: Siedlungsstraße 6 Rohrbach 147: Siedlungsstraße 8 (136) Rohrbach 148: Siedlungsstraße 10 Rohrbach 149: Siedlungsstraße 12 Rohrbach 150: Siedlungsstraße 14 Rohrbach 151: Siedlungsstraße 16 (137) Rohrbach 152: Siedlungsstraße 18 (137) Rohrbach 153: Siedlungsstraße 13 Rohrbach 154: Siedlungsstraße 11 Rohrbach 155: Siedlungsstraße 9 Rohrbach 156: Siedlungsstraße 7 (138) Rohrbach 157: Siedlungsstraße 5 Rohrbach 158: Siedlungsstraße 3 Rohrbach 159: Siedlungsstraße 1 Rohrbach 160: Harrauerstraße 27 (139) Rohrbach 161: Akademiestraße 6 (139) Rohrbach 162: Bahnhofstraße 11 Rohrbach 163: Harrauerstraße 5 Rohrbach 164: siehe Mayrhof 1 Rohrbach 165: Harrauerstraße 38 Rohrbach 166: Stifterstraße 24 (140) Rohrbach 167: Ehrenreiterweg 5 Rohrbach 168: Hanriederstraße 40 Rohrbach 169: Birkenweg 4 Rohrbach 170 : Schulstraße 5 Rohrbach 171 : Schulstraße 3 (141) Rohrbach 172 : Stifterstraße 5 Rohrbach 173 : Stifterstraße 13 Rohrbach 174 : Stifterstraße 14 Rohrbach 175 : Linzer Straße 16 Rohrbach 176 : Stifterstraße 10 (142) Rohrbach 177: Haslacher Straße 3 Rohrbach 178: Stifterstraße 6 Rohrbach 179: Linzer Straße 13 Rohrbach 180: Schulstraße 8 (143) Rohrbach 1181: Harrauerstraße 31 (143) Rohrbach 182: Harrauerstraße 25 Rohrbach 183: Grabenstraße 29 Rohrbach 184: Grabenstraße 27 Rohrbach 185: Grabenstraße 25 (144) Rohrbach 186: Grabenstraße 23 Rohrbach 187: Gartenstraße 1 Rohrbach 188: Gartenstraße 3 Rohrbach 189: Gartenstraße 5 Rohrbach 190: Gartenstraße 7 (145) Rohrbach 191: Gartenstraße 9 Rohrbach 192: Schulstraße 10 Rohrbach 193: Hanriederstraße 27 Rohrbach 194: Berggasse 1 Rohrbach 195: Hanriederstraße 9a (146) Rohrbach 197: Berggasse 8 Rohrbach 197: Gewerbeallee 3 (Feldweg 3) Rohrbach 198: Spitalfeld 32 Rohrbach 199: Hanriederstraße 32 (147) Rohrbach 200: Bahnhofstraße 23 Rohrbach 201: Hopfengasse 5 Rohrbach 202: Stifterstraße 27 Rohrbach 203: Hanriederstraße 28 Rohrbach 204: Haslacher Straße 11 (148) Rohrbach 205: Stifterstraße 20 Rohrbach 206: Haslacher Straße 9 Rohrbach 207: Grabenstraße 6 Rohrbach 208: Sportplatzgasse 8 Rohrbach 209: Sportplatzgasse 6 (149) Rohrbach 210: Sportplatzgasse 2 Rohrbach 211: Sportplatzgasse 4 Rohrbach 212: Gartenstraße 11 Rohrbach 213: Bahnhofstra 15 Rohrbach 214 und 218: Ehrenreiterweg 9 und 11 (150) Rohrbach 215: Ehrenreiterweg 8 Rohrbach 216: Schulstraße 6 Rohrbach 217: Mayrhoffeld 3 Rohrbach 218: siehe Rohrbach 214 Rohrbach 219: Harrauer Straße 30 (151) Rohrbach 220: Grabenstraße 21 Rohrbach 221: Bahnhofstraße 20 Rohrbach 222: Bahnhofstraße 27 Rohrbach 223: Grabenstraße 35 Rohrbach 224: Stifterstraße 29 (152) Rohrbach 225: Bahnhofstraße 21 Rohrbach 226: Pfarrgasse 8a Rohrbach 227: Poeschlgasse 1 Rohrbach 228: Mayrhoffeld 7 Rohrbach 229: Grabenstraße 37 (153) Rohrbach 230: Harrauer Straße 382 Rohrbach 231: Hanriederstraße 30 Rohrbach 232: Steinland 12 Rohrbach 233: Stifterstraße 16 (154) Rohrbach 234: Birkenweg 6 Rohrbach 235: Birkenweg 8 Rohrbach 236: Gartenstraße 8 Rohrbach 237: Gartenstraße 3 Rohrbach 238 und 239: Haslacher Straße 7 und 7a (155) Rohrbach 240: Mayrhoffeld 5 Rohrbach 241: Grabenstraße 10 Rohrbach 242: Birkenweg 1 Rohrbach 243: Harrauer Straße 40 Rohrbach 244: Grabenstraße 4 (156) Rohrbach 245: Hopfengasse 18 Rohrbach 246: Bahnhofstraße 24 Rohrbach 247: Grabenstraße 17 Rohrbach 248: Harrauer Straße 32 Rohrbach 249: Haslacher Straße 13 (157) Rohrbach 250: Haslacher Straße 15 Rohrbach 251: Gartenstraße 4 Rohrbach 252: Gartenstraße 6 Rohrbach 253 und 254: Gartenstraße 8 und 10 Rohrbach 255: Linzer Straße 17 (158) Rohrbach 256: Spitalfeld 18 Rohrbach 257: Grabenstraße 5 Rohrbach 259: Bahnhofstraße 26a Rohrbach 260: Böhmerwaldstraße 3 Rohrbach 261: Hanriederstraße 38 (159) Rohrbach 262: Steinland 6 Rohrbach 263: Gartenstraße 2 Rohrbach 264: Hanriederstraße 20a Rohrbach 265: Akademiestraße 8 Rohrbach 266: Spitalfeld 34 (160) Rohrbach 267: Harrauer Straße 14 Rohrbach 268: Stifterstraße 6 Rohrbach 269: Schulstraße 12 Rohrbach 270: Haslacher Straße 23 Rohrbach 271: Ehrenreiterweg 14 (161) Rohrbach 272: Schulstraße 7 Rohrbach 273: Bahnhofstraße 22 Rohrbach 274: Pfarrgasse 10 Rohrbach 275: Steinland 4 Rohrbach 276: Ehrenreiterweg 18 (162) Rohrbach 277: Hopfengasse 13 und 15 Rohrbach 278: Schnopfhagenstraße 3 Rohrbach 279: Hanriederstraße 23 Rohrbach 280 Rohrbach 281: Schulstraße 4 (163) Rohrbach 282: Schnopfhagenstraße 8 Rohrbach 283: Schnopfhagenstraße 5 Rohrbach 284: Schnopfhagenstraße 10 Rohrbach 285: Grabenstraße 16 Rohrbach 286: Stelzhamerstraße 6 (164) Rohrbach 287: Stifterstraße 25 Rohrbach 288: Wagner von der Mühl - Straße 4 Rohrbach 289: Siedlungsstraße 10a Rohrbach 290: Böhmerwaldstraße 5 Rohrbach 291: Akademiestraße 15 Rohrbach 292: Grabenstraße 9 (165) Rohrbach 293: Grabenstraße 31 Rohrbach 294: Stelzhamerstraße 5 Rohrbach 295: Mitterfeld 4 Rohrbach 296: Ehrenreiterweg 20 Rohrbach 297: Krankenhausstraße 22 (166) Rohrbach 298: Lanzersdorf 27 Rohrbach 299: Ehrenreiterweg 23 Rohrbach 300: Grabenstraße 16 Rohrbach 301: Mitterfeld 14 Rohrbach 302: Ehrenreiterweg 10 Rohrbach 303: Mayrhoffeld 9 (167) Rohrbach 304: Mitterfeld 11 Rohrbach 305: Mayrhoffeld 13 Rohrbach 306: Gewerbeallee Rohrbach 307: Haslacher Straße 2 Rohrbach 308: Steinland 14 Rohrbach 309: Mayrhoffeld 11 (168) Rohrbach 310, 311, 312, 313: Fadingerstraße 12 und 13, Lerchenweg 11 und 13 Rohrbach 314 und 315: Lerchenweg 8 Rohrbach 316: Harrau 12 Rohrbach 317: Brucknerstraße 9 Rohrbach 318: Brucknerstraße 11 (169) Rohrbach 319: Fadingerstraße 9 Rohrbach 320: Wandschamlweg 6 Rohrbach 321: Brucknerstraße 5 Rohrbach 322: Fadingerstraße 8 Rohrbach 323: Akademiestraße 12 Rohrbach 324: Lerchenweg 1 (170) Rohrbach 325: Fadingerstraße 1 Rohrbach 326: Harrauer Straße 34 Rohrbach 327: Brucknerstraße 1 Rohrbach 328: Brucknerstraße 7 Rohrbach 329: Fadingerstraße 11 (171) Rohrbach 330: Harrauer Straße 42 Rohrbach 331: Steinland 7 Rohrbach 332: Grillparzerstraße 3 Rohrbach 333: Mitterfeld 6 Rohrbach 334: Ehrenreiterweg 29 Rohrbach 335: Siedlungsstraße 20 (172) Rohrbach 336: Hanriederstraße 2b Rohrbach 337: Ehrenreiterweg 27 Rohrbach 338: Ehrenreiterweg 31 Rohrbach 339: Fadingerstraße 6 Rohrbach 340: Krankenhausstraße 1 (173) Rohrbach 341: Götzendorfer Steig 9 Rohrbach 342: Brucknerstraße 3 Rohrbach 343: Mitterfeld 13a, b, c; 15a, b; 16a, b, c, d Rohrbach 344: Haslacher Straße 4 Rohrbach 345: Grabenstraße 39 (174) Rohrbach 346: Fadingerstraße 7 Rohrbach 347: Muldenweg 8 Rohrbach 348: Parkweg 3 Rohrbach 349: Grabenstraße 45 Rohrbach 350: Akademiestraße21 Rohrbach 351: Ehrenreiterweg 25 (175) Rohrbach 352: Brucknerstraße 8 Rohrbach 353: Fadingerstraße 10 Rohrbach 354: Linzerstraße 18 Rohrbach 355: Fadingerstraße 5 Rohrbach 356: Lerchenweg 18 (176) Rohrbach 357: Parkweg 7 (176) Rohrbach 358: Böhmerwaldstraße 7 Rohrbach 359: Grabenstraße 33 Rohrbach 360: Am Binderhügel 2 Rohrbach 361: Krankenhausstraße 28 (177) Rohrbach 362: Gewerbeallee (Feldweg) Rohrbach 363: Krankenhausstraße 4 Rohrbach 364: Stifterstraße 12 Rohrbach 365: Harrauer Straße 39 Rohrbach 366: Götzendorfer Steig 15a (178) Rohrbach 367: Grabenstraße 36 (178) Rohrbach 368: Mitterfeld 12 Rohrbach 370: Muldenweg 6 Rohrbach 370: Muldenweg 10 (179) Rohrbach 372: Muldenweg 11 Rohrbach 373: Schnopfenhagenstraße 12 Rohrbach 374: Wandschamlweg 4 Rohrbach 375: Wandschamlweg 5 Rohrbach 376a: Hopfengasse 20 (180) Rohrbach 376b: Hopfengasse 22 Rohrbach 377: Muldenweg 3 Rohrbach 378: Muldenweg 4 Rohrbach 379: Muldenweg 2 Rohrbach 380: Harrauer Straße 45 Rohrbach 381: Harrauer Straße 44 Rohrbach 382: Muldenweg 5 (181) Rohrbach 383: Grabenstraße 19 Rohrbach 384: Stifterstraße 26 Rohrbach 385: Harrauer Straße 29 Rohrbach 386: Am Schlosserhügel Rohrbach 387: Wirtschaftszeile 2 Rohrbach 388: Wirtschaftszeile 1 Rohrbach 389: Hopfengasse (182) Rohrbach 390: Am Schlosserhügel 5 Rohrbach 391: Gewerbeallee Rohrbach 392: Grabenstraße Rohrbach 393: Rohrbach 394: Am Schlosserhügel 15 Rohrbach 395: Am Schlosserhügel 11 Rohrbach 396: Am Schlosserhügel 7 (183) Rohrbach 397: Am Schlosserhügel 17 Rohrbach 398: Am Schlosserhügel 13 Rohrbach 399: Am Schlosserhügel 9 Rohrbach 400: Am Schlosserhügel 18 Rohrbach 401: Am Schlosserhügel 6 Rohrbach 402: Am Schlosserhügel 10 Rohrbach 403: Am Schlosserhügel 14 (184) Rohrbach 404: Mayrhof 7 Rohrbach 405: Grabenstraße 12 Rohrbach 406: Haslacher Straße 17 Rohrbach 407: Harrauer Straße Rohrbach 408: Spitalfeld Rohrbach 409: Gewerbeallee Rohrbach 410: Sportplatzgasse 1 (184a) Rohrbach 411: Sportplatzgasse 3 Rohrbach 412: Sportplatzgasse 5 Rohrbach 413: Sportplatzgasse 7 Rohrbach 414: Haslacher Straße 6 (184b) Berg bei Rohrbach ([185]) [Karte]: Berg bei Rohrbach ([185]) Zur Geschichte von Berg ([186]) Die Perger. Die Ruestorfer ([186]) Die Grafen von Rödern (187) Verschiedene Besitzer von Berg (189a) Schloß Berg. Das Schloß Berg wurde nach 1912 zerstückelt und existiert jetzt in folgenden Realitäten: Brände in Berg (189b) [Abb.]: Schloß Berg (190) Häuserchronik Berg (191) Berg 1: Berggasse 10 - Schulweg 1, 3 (191) Berg 2: Berggasse 12 (192) Berg 3: Berggasse 14 (192) Berg 4: Berggasse 13 (193) Berg 5: Berggasse 23 (194) Berg 6: Hofmark 1 (194) Berg 7: Hofmark 3 und Hofmark 23 (195) Berg 8 und ehem. 30 zu Berg: Hofmark 4 (196) Berg 9: Hofmark 6 (197) Berg 10: Hofmark 15 (197) Berg 11: Hofmark 16 (198) Berg 12: Hofmark 17 (199) Berg 13: Pfaffenberg 4 (200) Berg 14: Bergweg 9 Berg 14: (alt) (201) Berg 15: Bergweg 15 (202) Berg 16: Bergweg 16 (Berggasse 43) (202) Berg 17: Stifterstraße 69 (203) Berg 18: Stifterstraße 70 (204) Berg 19 und 20: Maria Trost 3 und 4 (205) Berg 21: Maria Trost 2 (205) [Abb.]: Benefiziatenhaus Berg 20 (Maria Trost 3) Das in den Jahren 1708/1709 erbaute Benefiziatenhaus sicherte die Seelsorge an der Maria-Trost-Wallfahrtskirche. Das Benefizium wurde 1706 von Gräfin Maria Theresia von Rödern g. Freifrau von Oedt auf Götzendorf gestiftet. Dieses Haus, im Volksmund "Pfarrhof" genannt, ist im Jahr 1973 renoviert und modernisiert worden. ([206]) Berg 22: Bahnhofstraße 55 (Wimmhof) (207) Berg 23: Berggasse (207) [Abb.]: Renaissance-Portal. Einfahrt in das Schloß Berg; bereits zu sehen am Stich von G. M. Vischer 1679; der Löwe gibt Kunde vom Selbstbewußtsein der Herrschaften des 17./18. Jahrhunderts. Ausgeführt wurde dieses Portal wohl von der gerade zu berühmten "Firma" Getzinger aus Haslach an der Mühl. ([208]) Berg 23: Berggasse 20, 21 (209) Berg 24: Berggasse 28 (210) [Abb.]: Rundell-Häusl Berg 24 (Berggasse 28) Rest der gartengebäude des Schlosses Berg; als Rundturm im Kupferstich von G. M. Vischer 1679 bereits zu sehen (211) [Abb.]: Marien-Kapelle. Diese Kapelle bei Berg 25 (Maria Trost 1) am Wallfahrtsweg von Rohrbach nach Maria Trost hat mehrere Namen. Um 1780 wird sie "Urlaub Capellen" genannt (der Wallfahrer nimmt "Urlaub", Abschied, vom Heiligtum). Dann taucht der Name Teufelskapelle (in sich selbst ein Widerspruch!) auf, wohl wegen der Sage vom Teufelstanz, die man hier lokalisierte. Die Umgestaltung als Marien-Kapelle, die Sicherung durch ein Schmiedeeiserenes Gitter und der gepflegte Blumenschmuck sind lobend hervorzuheben! ([212]) Berg 25: Maria Trost 1 (213) Berg 26: Bergweg 2 (Berggasse 36) (213) Berg 27: Hofmark 2 (214) Berg 28: Bergweg 14 (Berggasse 42) (214) Berg 29: Hofmark 2a (215) Berg 30 (8): Hofmark Berg 30: Bahnhofstraße 57 (216) [Abb.]: Kreuzsäule im Hof des ehemaligen Schlosses Berg (217) Berg 31: Bahnhofstraße 58 Berg 32: Bergweg 3 (Berggasse 37) Berg 33: Berggasse 15 Berg 34: Berggasse 16 (218) Berg 35: Berggasse 34 (Teil des Schlosses Berg) Berg 36: Berggasse 35 (Teil des Schlosses Berg) Berg 37: Berggasse 32 (Teil des Schlosses Berg) Berg 38: Bahnhofstraße 46 Berg 39: Hofmark 7 (219) Berg 40: Bahnhofstraße 45 Berg 41: Berggasse 25 Berg 42: Berggasse 26 Berg 43: Berggasse 31 Berg 41 und 42 (220) Berg 44: Berggasse 24 (Teil des Schlosses Berg) Berg 45: Bahnhofstraße 4 Berg 46: Bahnhofstraße 64 Berg 47: Berggasse 18 (221) Berg 48: Hofmark 5 Berg 49: Stifterstraße 67 Berg 50: Stifterstraße 31 Berg 51: Hofmark 9 (222) Berg 52: Berggasse 17 Berg 53 (alt): Baufläche 1956 gelöscht Berg 53 (neu): Berggasse 33 (Teil des Schlosses Berg) Berg 54: Bahnhofstraße 31 Berg 55: Bahnhofstraße 33 (223) Berg 56: Bahnhofstraße 35 Berg 57: Bahnhofstraße 37 Berg 58: Bahnhofstraße 39 Berg 59: Bahnhofstraße 41 Berg 60: Bahnhofstraße 65 (224) Berg 61: Bahnhofstraße 67 Berg 62: Wimholzsiedlung 1 Berg 63: Wimholzsiedlung 2 Berg 64: Wimholzsiedlung 3 Berg 65: Wimholzsiedlung 4 (225) Berg 66: Wimholzsiedlung 5 Berg 67: Wimholzsiedlung 6 Berg 68: Wimholzsiedlung 7 Berg 69: Wimholzsiedlung 8 (226) Berg 70: Wimholzsiedlung 9 Berg 71: Wimholzsiedlung 10 Berg 72: Wimholzsiedlung 11 Berg 73: Wimholzsiedlung 12 (227) Berg 74: Wimholzsiedlung 13 (227) Berg 75: Wimholzsiedlung 17 Berg 76: Wimholzsiedlung 15 Berg 77: Wimholzsiedlung 16 (228) Berg 78: Wimholzsiedlung 14 (228) Berg 79: Bahnhofstraße 54 Berg 80: Bahnhofstraße 53 Berg 81: Hofmark 8 Berg 82: Mitterweg 15 (229) Berg 83: Bergweg 20 (Berggasse 45) Berg 84: Bergweg 6 (Berggasse 38) Berg 85: Hofmark 11 Berg 86: Angerweg 2 Berg 87: Bahnhofstraße 59 (230) Berg 88: Stifterstraße 68 Berg 89: Hofmark 14 Berg 90: Bahnhofstraße 38 Berg 91: Bahnhofstraße 42 Berg 92: Bahnhofstraße 40 (231) Berg 93: Stift-Schlägler-Siedlung 3 Berg 94: Stifterstraße 33 Berg 95: Stift-Schlägler-Siedlung 10 Berg 96: Stift-Schlägler-Siedlung 5 Berg 97: Berggasse 30 Berg 98: Stift-Schlägler-Siedlung 7 (232) Berg 99: Hofmmark 13 Berg 100: Stift-Schlägler-Siedlung 4 Berg 102: Bergweg 13 Berg 103: Bahnhofstraße 62 (233) Berg 104: Bahnhofstraße 56 Berg 105: Stift-Schlägler-Siedlung 2 Berg 106: Stifterstraße 32 Berg 107: Stift-Schlägler-Siedlung 9 Berg 108: Bahnhofstraße 44 (234) [Abb.]: Bildstock beim Haus Berg 106 (Stifterstraße 32); der kielförmige Bogen erinnert an ein spätgotisches Vorbild. (235) Berg 109: Pfaffenberg 1 (Berggasse 27) Berg 110: Berggasse 22 Berg 111: Stift-Schlägler-Siedlung 11 Berg 112: Stift-Schlägler-Siedlung 15 Berg 113: Stift-Schlägler-Siedlung 6 (236) Berg 114: Stift-Schlägler-Siedlung 1 Berg 115: Stift-Schlägler-Siedlung 8 Berg 116: Bahnhofstraße 42a Berg 117: Stift-Schlägler-Siedlung 16 Berg 118: Mitterweg 16 (237) Berg 119: Spielplatzgasse 3 (237) Berg 120: Mokereistraße 1 Berg 121: Mokereistraße 2 Berg 122: Hofmark 10 Berg 123: Bahnhofstraße 36 (238) Berg 124: Bahnhofstraße 70 Berg 125: Bahnhofstraße 69 Berg 126: Mitterweg 5 Berg 127: Mitterweg 6 Berg 128: Mitterweg 7 Berg 129: Hofmark 12 (239) Berg 130: Wimholzsiedlung 18 Berg 131: Stifterstraße 43 (früher 38) Berg 132: Stifterstraße 435 (früher 39) Berg 133: Stifterstraße 47 (früher 40) Berg 134: Stifterstraße 49 (früher 41) Berg 135: Stifterstraße 31 (früher 42) (240) Berg 136: Stifterstraße 53 (früher 43) Berg 137: Stifterstraße 50 (früher 55) Berg 138: Stifterstraße 41 (früher 37) Berg 139: Hofmark 24 Berg 140: Bahnhofstraße 71 (241) Berg 141: Bahnhofstraße 51 (241) Berg 142: Bahnhofstraße 56 Berg 143: Stift-Schlägler-Siedlung 14 Berg 144: Mitterweg 17 Berg 145: Bergfeld 9 Berg 146: Stifterstraße 37 (früher 35) (242) Berg 147: Bergfeld 7 Berg 148: Bahnhofstraße 72 Berg 149: Wimholzsiedlung 24 Berg 150: Angerweg 1 (Bahnhofstraße 76) Berg 151: Bergfeld 5 Berg 152: Stifterstraße 34 (243) Berg 153: Stifterstraße 55 (früher 44) Berg 154: Molkereistraße 3 Berg 155: Molkereistraße 4 Berg 156: Stifterstraße 52 Berg 157: Bergfeld 4 (244) Berg 158: Höhenweg 5 (Berggasse 46) Berg 159: Molkereistraße 6 Berg 160: Stifterstraße 57 (früher 45) Berg 161: Bahnhofstraße 63 Berg 162: Bergfeld 1 Berg 163: Bahnhofstraße 34 (245) Berg 164: Wimholzsiedlung 20 Berg 165: Stift-Schägler-Siedlung 17 Berg 166: Stift-Schägler-Siedlung 18 Berg 167: Berggasse 47 Berg 168: Berggasse 48 (246) Berg 169: Bergfeld 6 (246) Berg 170: Angerweg 4 Berg 171: Angerweg 5 Berg 172: Bahnhofstraße 60 Berg 173: Mitterweg 13 (247) Berg 174: Angerweg 6 Berg 175: Bahnhofstraße 43 Berg 176: Bahnhofstraße 48 Berg 177 und 178: Bahnhofstraße 78 und 77 Berg 179: Bergfeld 2 Berg 180: Bergfeld 3 (248) Berg 181: Berggasse 29 Berg 182: Berggasse 39, 49 Berg 183: Berggasse 40 Berg 184: Berggasse 44 Berg 185 und 186: Bergweg 14a Berg 188: Bergweg 17 (249) Berg 189: Bergweg 18 und 18a Berg 190: Bergweg 24 Berg 191: Fürlingerberg 1 Berg 192: Fürlingerberg 4 Berg 193: Fürlingerberg 6 (250) Berg 194: Fürlingerberg 8 (250) Berg 195: Fürlingerberg 10 Berg 196: Höhenweg 1 Berg 197: Höhenweg 2 Berg 198: Hofmark 23 (251) [Abb.]: Maria Trost bei Rohrbach. ([252]) Berg 199: Berg 200: Maria Trost 5 Berg 201: Mitterweg 4 Berg 202: Pfaffenberg 6 Berg 203: Schulweg 5 Berg 204: Bergfeld 13 Berg 205: Stifterstraße 30 Berg 206: Stifterstraße 35 (253) [Abb.]: Kreuzsäule am Pfaffenberg auf der Kuppe des Zwischenmühlrückens gelegen, markiert einen Punkt von ganz besonders weitreichender Fernsicht (254) Berg 207: Stifterstraße 58 Berg 208: Stifterstraße 60 Berg 209: Stifterstraße 64 Berg 210: Stift-Schlägler-Siedlung 6a Berg 211: Stift-Schlägler-Siedlung 6b Berg 212: Stift-Schlägler-Siedlung 19 Berg 213: Wimholzsiedlung 22 Berg 214: Wimholzsiedlung 23 (255) Berg 215: Im Tal 4 Berg 216: Wimholzsiedlung 25 Berg 217: Wimholzsiedlung 26 Berg 218: Bahnhofstraße 50 Berg 219: Höhenweg 3 Berg 220: Rödernweg 4 Berg 221: Molkereistraße 13 Berg 222: Bahnhofstraße 49 (256) Berg 223: Höhenweg 9 Berg 224: Bergweg 10 Berg 225: Hafnerweg 1 Berg 226: Hafnerweg 2 Berg 227: Bergweg 8 Berg 228: Fürlingerweg 12 Berg 229: Stifterstraße 48 Berg 230: Berggasse 9 (257) Berg 231: Im Tal 15 Berg 232: Im Tal 22 Berg 233: Im Tal 23 Berg 234: Im Tal 25 Berg 235: Im Tal 26 Berg 236: Im Tal 30 Berg 237: Pfaffenberg 9 Berg 238: Bahnhofstraße 52 Berg 239: Mitterweg 9 Berg 240: Mitterweg 14 Berg 241: Molkereistraße 12 (258) [Abb.]: Grabstein des Franz Anton Graf von Rödern (gestorben am 20. März 1718) Der Stein befindet sich an der Straße vor der Garage des Hauses Berggasse 32 (Berg 37). (259) Anhang zu Berg: Literaturauswahl (260) Götzendorf ([261]) [Abb.]: Götzendorf ([261]) [Karte]: ([262]) Geschichtliche Entwicklung (263) Die Herren von Götzendorf 1180 -1422 (263) Herren von Oedt auf Götzendorf 1453 - 1756 (264) [Abb.]: Der Meierhof nach einer alten Aufnahme. Max Holzer, Verwalter Stöckl. ([265]) Fürsten von Lamberg 1758 - 1912 (267) Benefizium Götzendorf 1719 (267a) Nachträge zu Götzendorf (267b) [Abb.]: Wappenstein Wolf von Oedt ([268]) Häuserchronik Götzendorf (269) Götzendorf 1 (269) Götzendorf 2 (270) Literatur zu Götzendorf (270) Götzendorf 3 (270) [Abb.]: Gezendorf. Kupferstich des Schlosses Götzendorf aus dem Jahre 1674 (271) Götzendorf 4 (272) Götzendorf 5 (272) Götzendorf 6 (273) Götzendorf 7 (273) Götzendorf 8 (274) Götzendorf 9 (275) Götzendorf 10 (276) Götzendorf 11 (277) Götzendorf 12 (alt) (277) Götzendorf 12 (neu) (278) Götzendorf 13 (279) Götzendorf 14 (279) Götzendorf 15 (280) Götzendorf 16 (281) Götzendorf 17 (282) Götzendorf 18 (283) Götzendorf 19 (283) Götzendorf 20 (284) [Abb.]: Hammerschmiede Götzendorf 20. Die Zuleitung des Fischbaches zum Betreiben des schweren Schmiede-Hammers ist noch zu erkennen, die Schmiede jedoch längst nicht mehr in Betrieb. Derzeit bietet eine Gaststätte für Ausflügler und Wanderer willkommene Rast. Im Hintergrund das Nebenhaus, das Obergeschoß von einem geschnitzten Geländer umgeben. (285) Götzendorf 21 (286) Götzendorf 22 (287) Götzendorf 23 (alt) (287) Götzendorf 23 (neu) (288) Götzendorf 24 (288) [Abb.]: Christophorustafel. Spätgotisches Tafelbild, wohl bald nach 1500 entstanden, befand sich ursprünglich in der Schloßkapelle als Heiligenbild beim Hochaltar und wurde zu Beginn des 20. Jh. der Galerie des Stiftes Schlägl überschrieben. Möglicherweisee wurde sie anläßlich der Taufe des hanns Christoph von Oedt (um 1550) angeschafft. ([289]) Götzendorf 25 Götzendorf 26 (290) Götzendorf 27 Götzendorf 28 Götzendorf 29 (291) Götzendorf 30 Götzendorf 31 Götzendorf 32 Götzendorf 33 Götzendorf 34 Götzendorf 36 Götzendorf 37 (292) Götzendorf 39 Götzendorf 40 Götzendorf 41 Götzendorf 42 Götzendorf 43 Götzendorf 45 Götzendorf 50 Götzendorf 52 (293) [Abb.]: Johannes - Nepomuk - Statue. Dies wurde 1719 von Hanns Christoph von Oedt anläßlich seiner Übernahme von Schloß und Herrschaft Götzendorf und als Denkmal für seine 1719 verstorbene Ehefrau Charlotte von Geyersperg (Heirat 1707) errichtet. ([294]) [Abb.]: Dorfkapelle. Sie steht an der Straße zur Hammerschmiede und ist vielleicht identisch mit der Kapelle, über die Benedikt Pillwein 1830 geschrieben hat: 430 Schritte von der Schloßkapelle befindet sich eine dem Einsturz nahe Kapelle. Möglicherweise befand sich hier die Götzendorfer Madonna, bevor sie zum Schutz vor der Witterung und anderen Unbilden in ein Privathaus gebracht worden ist. ([296]) Götzendorf 56 Götzendorf 58 Götzendorf 59 (296a) [Abb.]: Die Götzendorfer Madonna kann stilistisch der Spätgotik zugerechnet werden und ist wohl kurz nach 1500 entstanden. Sie befand sich ursprünglich in der Schloßkapelle und ist derzeit in einem Privathaus (296b) Altenhofen. ([297]) [Abb.]: ([297]) [Karte]: Altenhofen ([298]) Häuserchronik Altenhofen (299) Altenhofen 1 (299) Altenhofen 2 (300) Altenhofen 3 (300) Altenhofen 4 (301) [2 Abb.]: Koblbauer. Der Stattliche Hof des Koblbauer (Altenhofen 5) mit dem restaurierten Türgericht vom Jahr 1810 ([302]) Altenhofen 5 (303) [2 Abb.]: Dorfkapelle gehört zum Haus Altenhofen 2 und ist bemerkenswert wegen ihrer zweiachsigen Anlage und der relativ qualitätsvollen Einrichtung: (1)Christus am Kreuz, in Holz geschnitzt, wohl 19. Jahrh., darunter ein Kästchen mit einem gewickelten Jesuskind, nach Art eines Reliquiars gestaltet. Früher befand sich bei der Kapelle noch ein Vorbau aus Holz mit Sitzbänken. (304) Arbesberg ([306]) [Karte]: Arbesberg ([306]) [Abb.]: Abb. Arbesberg 3 (307) Häuserchronik Arbesberg (308) Arbesberg 1 (308) Arbesberg 2 (309) [Abb.]: Dorfkapelle. Sie gehört zum Haus Nr. 3, dem Sonnleitner-Erbhof. Die Kapelle ist überdurchschnittlich gut gepflegt, mit frischen Blumen und grünen Sträuchern grschmückt, und enthält als große Seltenheit eine Madonna mit dem Jesuskind, beide mit Gewändern bekleidet, nach dem Vorbild des Hochaltares der Maria-Trost-Kirche am Berg bei Rohrbach. ([310]) Arbesberg 3 (311) Arbesberg 4 (312) Arbesberg 5 (312) Arbesberg 6 (313) Arbesberg 7 (314) Arbesberg 8 Arbesberg 9 Arbesberg 10 Arbesberg 11 Arbesberg 12 (315) Arbesberg 13 Arbesberg 14 Arbesberg 16 (316) Autengrub ([317]) [Abb.]: Autengrub wird urkundlich erstmals 1312 genannt: ([317]) [Karte]: Autengrub ([318]) Häuserchronik Autengrub (319) Autengrub 1 Doppelbauerngut (319) [3 Abb.]: (1)Oben rechts: Die frühere Dorfkapelle (2)Oben links: Die 1987 erbaute neue Dorfkapelle (3)Unten: Der Altar der neuen Kapelle ([320]) Autengrub 2 (321) Autengrub 3 Mitterbauerngut (322) Autengrub 4 (323) Autengrub 5 (324) Autengrub 6 (324) Autengrub 7.8 (325) Dobretshofen ([327]) [Abb.]: ([327]) [Karte]: ([328]) Häuserchronik Dobretshofen (329) Dobretshofen 1 (329) Dobretshofen 2 (329) Dobretshofen 3 (330) Dobretshofen 4 (331) Dobretshofen 5 (332) Dobretshofen 6 (333) [5 Abb.]: (1)Oben Dobtresthofen 5 wurde 1802 mit einer bemerkenswerten Stuckfassade versehen; Lorenz Windsteiger schmückte das Haus mit einem Fries, das Namen und Entstehungsjahr angibt; die Fenster des Obergeschoßes zierte er mit klassizistischen Elementen, dazwischen setzte er die Monogramme Jesu und Maria (ein absolut denkmalwürdiges Monument ländlicher Baukunst) Rechte Seite die Kapelle von Dobretshofen (2)Oben links: Kapelle beim Ruggerhof, mit einem schmucken modernen schmiedeeisernen Gitter versehen (3)oben rechts: Kreuzstein an der Landstraße, gußeiserner Kruzifixus mit versilbertem Schutzengel, auf Steinsockel montiert, datiert 1877 (4)unten links: Das Innere der Kapelle in Dobretshofen zeigt eine bäuerliche Malerei der Dreifaltigkeit, in den letzten Jahren aufgefrischt worden (5)unten rechts: Kapelle beim Grüblhof, 1971 neu erbaut anstelle einer baufälligen, die verkehrsmäßig ungünstig gelegen war ([334 - 335]) Dobretshofen 7 (336) Dobretshofen 8 (336) Dobretshofen 9.10 (337) Dobretshofen 11 (338) Dobretshofen 12 (339) Dobretshofen 13 (340) [Abb.]: Die Neumühle (Dobretshofen 12) an der kleinen Mühl, nach dem Türgericht 1829 von Jakob Koblmiller erbaut (340) Fraundorf ([341]) [Abb.]: ([341]) [Karte]: Fraundorf ([342]) Häuserchronik Fraundorf (343) Fraundorf 1 (343) Fraundorf 2 (344) Fraundorf 3 (344) Fraundorf 4 (345) Fraundorf 5 (346) Fraundorf 6 (347) Fraundorf 7 (347) Fraundorf 8 (348) Fraundorf 9 (349) Fraundorf 10 (350) [Abb.]: Kapelle des Hauses Fraundorf 1 erbaut 1856 von Johann Gahleitner renoviert circa 1980 (350) Frindorf ([351]) [Abb.]: ([351]) Die Gemeinde Frindorf (352) Die Bürgermeister von Frindorf [1854 - 1945] (353) [Karte]: Frindorf ([354]) Häuserchronik Frindorf (355) Frindorf 1 (355) Frindorf 2 (355) Frindorf 3 (356) Frindorf 4 (357) Frindorf 5 (358) [Abb.]: Kapelle. Anstelle der freistehenden Kapelle des Hauses Frindorf 5 wurde um 1980 eine Nische an der Außenmauer des Hauses gestaltet. Die Statue Maria mit dem Jesuskind stammt vom Bildhauer Ägidius Gamsjäger, Raffelding bei Eferding. Das Schmiedeeiserne Gitter machte Heinrich Grill, Kunstschmied in Rohrbach. (359) Frindorf 6 (360) Frindorf 7 (361) Frindorf 8 (361) Frindorf 9 (362) Frindorf 10 (363) Frindorf 11 (364) Frindorf 12 (364) Frindorf 13 (365) Frindorf 14 (366) Frindorf 15 (367) Frindorf 16.17 (367) [2 Abb.]: (1)Oben: Die Teufelsbruckmühle (Frindorf 16.17) (2)Rechts: Bildstock bei Frindorf vom Jahr 1670 ([368]) Frindorf 18 (369) Frindorf 19 Frindorf 20 (370) Fürling ([371]) [Abb.]: ([371]) [Karte]: Fürling ([372]) Häuserchronik Fürling (373) Fürling 1 (373) Fürling 2.19 (374) Fürling 3 (375) Fürling 4 (375) Fürling 5 Fürling 6 (377) Fürling 7 Fürling 8 (378) Fürling 9 (378) Fürling 10 Fürling 11 (alt) Fürling 11 (neu) (379) Fürling 12 Fürling 13 Fürling 14 Fürling 15 Fürling 16 (380) [2 Abb.]: (1)Breitpfeiler im Fürlingerholz an der Straße von Fürling nach Aigen-Schlägl datiert 1850 (2)Bildstock (sog. Hexensäule) an der Straße zwischen Berg (Molkerei) und Fürling (381) Fürling 17 Fürling 18 Fürling 19 Fürling 20 Fürling 21 Fürling 22 Fürling 23 Fürling 24 (382) Fürling 27 Fürling 28 Fürling 32 Fürling 33 Fürling 34 Fürling 35 Fürling 38 (383) [Abb.]: Kruzifix. Kreuzigungsdarstellung mit einem Blechschnitt-Christus beim Haus Fürling 1 (384) Gattergaßling ([385]) [Abb.]: ([385]) [Karte]: Gattergaßling ([386]) Häuserchronik Gattergaßling (387) Gattergaßling 1 (387) Gattergaßling 2 (388) Gattergaßling 3 Gattergaßling 4 (389) Gattergaßling 5 (389) [2 Abb.]: (1)Pfefferhof ist eines der traditionsreichsten Güter der Pfarre Rohrbach (Gattergaßling Nr. 5) (2)Grand des Pfefferhofes aus dem Jahr 1829; er war ursprünglich beim Asanger in Fraundorf 1 ([390]) [2 Abb.]: (1)Bildstock bei Gattergaßling aus dem Jahr 1717 (2)Stuck in der Stube des Pfefferhofes (Gattergaßling 5 ) aus dem Jahr 1807 mit Christus- und Marien-Monogramm (391) Gattergaßling 6 Gattergaßling 7 (393) Gattergaßling 8 (393) Gattergaßling 9 (394) Gattergaßling 10 Gattergaßling 11 (395) [Abb.]: Kapelle beim Dorf Gattergaßling am Türgericht mit 1889 datiert doch vermutlich wesentlich älter (396) Gierling (397) [Abb.]: Gierling 2/3 ([398]) Häuserchronik Gierling (399) Gierling 1.2 (399) Gierling 3 (400) Gierling 4 (401) Gierling 5 (401) Gintersberg (403) [Karte]: Gintersberg ([404]) Gintersberg 1 (405) [Abb.]: Kapelle von Gintersberg (406) Gintersberg 2 ([407]) Gintersberg 3 ([407]) Gintersberg 4 (408) Gintersberg 5.6 (409) Gollner ([411]) [Abb.]: ([411]) [Karte]: ([412]) Häuserchronik Gollner (413) Gollner 1 (413) Gollner 2 (414) Gollner 3 (415) Gollner 4 (415) Gollner 5 (416) [2 Abb.]: Tür und Tor. Besonders gelungen gestaltetes Hoftor (durch geschmiedete Nägel das Sonnenrad angedeutet) und hübsche Haustüre (mit klassizistischen Elementen geschmückt) des Hauses Gollner 5 ([417]) [2 Abb.]: Abb. S. 418: (1)Links oben: Der stattliche Hof Gollner 5 (2)Links unten: Bäuerliche Pietà mit dem hl. Johannes Nep. und einem Pilger (Jakobus,? Felix?), Hauskapelle Gollner 7. ([418]) Gollner 6 (419) Gollner 7 (420) Gollner 8 (421) Gollner 9 (und 15) (422) Gollner 10 (423) Gollner 11.12 (424) Gollner 13 (425) Gollner 14 (426) Gollner 15 (426) Gollner 16 (427) Gollner 17 (428) Gollner 18 (428) Gollner 19 (429) Gollner 20 (429) Gollner 21 Gollner 22 (430 - [431]) [4 Abb.]: Zu den Abbildungen 431: (1)Oben links: Kapelle von Gollner mit Maria-Hilf-Bild, mit schmiedeeisernem Gitter versehen. (2)Oben rechts: Bildstock bei Gollner 5 aus dem Jahr 1690 (3)Unten links: Passionskreuz am Haus Gollner 18 (4)Unten rechts: Breitpfeiler bei Gollner 6 von 1852. Dieser Breitpfeiler wurde 1852 an der Straße zwischen Rohrbach und Gollner gesetzt zum Gedächtnis an den hier am 3. 1. 1852 am Schlagfluß verstorbenen Jakob Mandl aus Hintring; als an dieser Stelle ein Haus (Haslacherstr. 15) erbaut wurde, versetzte man den Bildstock zum Haus Gollner 6, weil hier eine Verwandte des Verstorbenen eingeheiratet hat (430 - [431]) Gollner 23 Gollner 24 Gollner 25 Gollner 26 Gollner 27 Gollner 28 Gollner 29 (432) Grub ([433]) [Karte]: Hauzenberg, Grub ([434]) Häuserchronik Grub (435) Grub 1 (435) Grub 2 (436) Grub 3 (437) Grub 4 Grub 5 Grub 6 (438) [Abb.]: Kapelle zwischen der Ortschaft Grub und dem Haus Grub Nr. 5 (439) Grub 7 Grub 8 Grub 9 (440) [Abb.]: Dreifaltigkeitsbild in der Kapelle zwischen Grub und dem Haus Grub 5. (441) Harau ([442]) [Karte]: Harrau ([442]) Häuserchronik von Harau (444) Harau 1.6 (444) Harau 2 (444) [Abb.]: Bildstock in Form einer Laterne mit Madonnenstatue, zur Erinnerung an Frau Maria Schauer, die ihren Hof (Harau 2) der Pfarrkirche Rohrbach vermacht hat, errichtet an der Stelle, wo die Kapelle ihres Hauses stand. Diesen Bildstock ließ die Pfarre Rohrbach vom Steinmetzmeister Karl Grünzweil, Helfenberg-Waldhäuser im Jahr 1976 anfertigen und aufstellen. ([445]) Harau 3.13 (446) Harau 4.5 (Inhäusel) (447) Harau 7 (448) Harau 8 Harau 9 Harau 10 Harau 11 (449) Harau 12 (Rohrbach 316) Harau 14 (450) Hauzenberg (451) Häuserchronik Hauzenberg (452) Hauzenberg 1 (452) Hauzenberg 2 (452) [2 Abb.]: (1)Kapelle des Hauses Hauzenberg 2 (2)Hauzenberg Blick auf Straße und Dorfanger (453) Hauzenberg3.6 (454) Hauzenberg 4 (455) [Abb.]: Kapelle an der Straßengabelung Hauzenberg/Grub, im Volksmund Wildin- (Witwen-) Kapelle bei Hauzenberg genannt; 1985 renoviert. (456) Hauzenberg 5 Hauzenberg 6 (457) Hauzenberg 7 (458) Hehenberg (459) [Karte]: Hehenberg (460) Häuserchronik Hehenberg (461) Hehenberg 1 (461) Hehenberg 2 (461) Hehenberg 3 (462) Hehenberg 4 (463) [2 Abb.]: Kreuzsäule an der Rohrbacher Bundesstraße vom Jahr 1663 gehört zum Rimpflergut (Hehenberg 5) (464) [Abb.]: Hehenberg. Blick auf die Streusiedlung, im Hintergrund der namenlose hohe Berg, von Kimerting aus ([465]) Schutzengel ([465]) Hehenberg 5 (466) Hehenberg 6 Hehenberg 7 (über Arbesberg) (467) Hehenberg 8 (über Arbesberg) (467) Hehenberg 9 (468) Hehenberg 10 (über Arbesberg) (468) Hehenberg 11 Hehenberg 12 (469) Hehenberg 13 Hehenberg 14 Hehenberg später Fürling 10 (470) Notiz zum Schutzengel von Hehenberg (470) Hintring (471) [Abb.]: Hintring 2 ([472]) [Karte]: Hintring ([472]) Häuserchronik Hintring (473) Hintring 1 (473) Hintring 2.3 (473) Hintring 4 (474) Hintring 5 (475) Hintring 6 (476) Hintring 7 (477) Hintring 8 (477) Hintring 9 Hintring 11 (478) Hundbrenning (479) Häuserchronik Hundbrenning (481) Hundbrenning 1 (481) [Karte]: Hundbrenning (482 - [483]) [4 Abb.]: Zu den Abbildungen der nächsten Seite: (1)Oben links: Bildstock bei Hundbrenning 18 neugotische, sorgfältige Formgebung (2)Oben rechts: Kreuzsäule zwischen Felberau und Hundbrenning (3)Unten links: Kapelle im Dorf Hundbrenning, von benachbarten Bäumen stark bedrängt (4)Unten rechts: Kapelle bei Hundbrenning 13 (Almesmühl, Krennschmiede) (482 - [483]) Hundbrenning 2.3 (484) Hundbrenning 4 (484) [2 Abb.]: (1)Hundbrenning, Dorfmitte (2) Hundbrenning 13 ([485]) Hundbrenning 5 (486) Hundbrenning 6 (alt) Hundbrenning 6 (neu) (487) Hundbrenning 7 Hofer (487) Hundbrenning 8 (488) Hundbrenning 9 (489) Hundbrenning 10 (490) Hundbrenning 11 (490) Hundbrenning 12 (491) Hundbrenning 13 (491) Hundbrenning 14 (492) Hundbrenning 15 (493) Hundbrenning 16 (alt) Hundbrenning 16 (neu) (494) Hundbrenning 17 (alt) Hundbrenning 17 (neu) Hundbrenning 18 (alt) Hundbrenning 18 (neu) Hundbrenning 19 (495) Hundbrenning 20 (495) Hundbrenning 21 Hundbrenning 22 Hundbrenning 23 (alt) Hundbrenning 23 (neu) (496) Katzing (497) [Karte]: Katzing (498) Häuserchronik von Katzing (499) Katzing 1 (499) Katzing 2.3 Katzing 3 (500) Katzing 4.5 (501) Katzing 6 (501) Katzing 7 (502) Katzing 8 (503) [Abb.]: Katzing ([504]) [2 Abb.]: (1)Kapelle im Dorf Katzing (2)Kapelle bei Katzing 4/5 Schwalsed, Neumühl (505) Katzing 9 (506) Katzing 10 (506) Katzing 11 Katzing 12 Katzing 13 (507) Katzing 14 Katzing 15 Katzing 16 Katzing 17 Katzing 18 Katzing 19 (508) Keppling (509) [Karte]: Keppling (510) Häuserchronik Keppling (511) Keppling 1 (511) Keppling 2 (511) [2 Abb.]: (1)Kapelle im Dorfe Keppling (2)Unten: Inneres der Kapelle. Bäuerliche Malerei (512) Keppling 3.7 (513) Keppling 4 Ringsenberg (514) [2 Abb.]: (1)Keppling Ansicht von der Dorfstraße (2)Bildstock bei Ringsenberg ([515]) Keppling 5 (516) Keppling 6 (516) Keppling 9 Keppling 10 (517) Keppling 11 Keppling 12 Keppling 13 Keppling 15 Keppling 17 Keppling 18 Keppling 19 Keppling 20 (518) Krien (519) [Karte]: Krien (520) Häuserchronik Krien (521) Krien 1 (521) Krien 2 (521) Krien 3 (522) [2 Abb.]: (1)Krien Blick ins Dorf (2)Kapelle beim Haus Krien 5 ca. 1983 neu erbaut von der F. Feuerwehr ([523]) Krien 4 (524) Krien 5 (525) Krien 6 (525) Krien 7 (526) Krien 8 Krien 9 (527) Krien 10 Krien 11 Krien 13 (528) Lanzerstorf (529) Lanzerstorf (529) Häuserchronik Lanzerstorf (530) Lanzerstorf 1 (530) Lanzerstorf 2 (531) [Karte]: Lanzerstorf ( - ) Lanzerstorf 3 (532) Lanzerstorf 4 (533) [Abb.]: Lanzerstorf. Blick von Westen in die bäuerliche Siedlung (links Nr. 3 und 2, rechts Nr. 4 zu sehen) ( - ) Lanzerstorf 5 (534) Lanzerstorf 6 (535) Lanzerstorf 7 (alt) Lanzerstorf 7 (neu) (537) Lanzerstorf 8.9 (537) Lanzerstorf 10 (538) [Abb.]: Wolketsberg. Blick auf eines der modernisierten Häuser dieses Weilers ( - ) Lanzerstorf 11 (539) [Abb.]: Passionskreuz bei Wolketsberg, geschnitzt von Heinrich Vierlinger, Lanzerstorf 12, um das Jahr 1950 ([540]) Lanzerstorf 12.13 (541) Lanzerstorf 13 Lanzerstorf 14 (542) Lanzerstorf 15 Lanzerstorf 16 Lanzerstorf 17 Lanzerstorf 18 (543) Lanzerstorf 19 Lanzerstorf 20.29 Lanzerstorf 21 Lanzerstorf 22 Lanzerstorf 23 (544) Lanzerstorf 24 Lanzerstorf 25 Lanzerstorf 26 Lanzerstorf 27 Lanzerstorf 28 Lanzerstorf 29 (545) Lanzerstorf 30 Lanzerstorf 31 (546) Liebetsberg (547) [Abb.]: ([548]) [Karte]: Liebetsberg ([548]) Liebetsberg 1 (549) Liebetsberg 2 (549) Liebetsberg 3.9 (550) [Abb.]: Kapelle in Liebetsberg (551) Liebetsberg 4 (552) Liebetsberg 5 (552) Liebetsberg 6 (553) Liebetsberg 7 (553) Liebetsberg 8 (554) Märzing (555) [2 Karten]: (1)Obermärzing (2)Untermärzing (556) Märzing 1 (557) Märzing 2 (alt) (557) Märzing 2 (neu) (558) Märzing 3 (558) Märzing 4 (559) Märzing 5 (alt) Märzing 5 (neu) (560) Märzing 6 (561) Märzing 7 (561) [2 Abb.]: (1)Oben: Märzing 6 (2)Unten: Märzing 7 ([562]) Märzing 8.9 (563) Märzing 10 (564) Märzing 11 (= Hundbrenning 18) (565) [6 Abb.]: (1)Oben links: Breitpfeiler bei Untermärzing (2)Oben rechts: Passionskreuz am Haus Obermärzing 7 Abbildungen der rechten Seite: (3)Breitpfeiler in Obermärzing, eingemeißelter Text siehe Märzing 8.9 (4)Oben links: Madonna mit Jesuskind Rückseite des Breitpfeilers (5)Unten links: Kapelle in Untermärzing (Märzing 6). Wegen des Straßenbaues hierher versetzt (6)Unten rechts: madonna mit dem Jesuskind in moderner ansprechender Formgebung im Inneren der Kapelle von Märzing 6 (566 - 567) Märzing 12 (= Spielleiten 4) Märzing 13 Märzing 14 Märzing 15 (568) Mayrhof (569) [Abb.]: Troadkasten bei Mayhof (abgetragen) ([570]) [Karte]: Mayrhof ([570]) Mayrhof 1 (früher: Rohrbach 164) Mayrhof 3 (früher: Rohrbach 76 und 78) (571) Mayrhof 5 (früher Rohrbach 79) (572) Neundling (573) [Karte]: Neundling ([574]) Neundling 1 (575) Neundling 2 (575) Neundling 3 (576) Neundling 4 (577) Neundling 5 (577) Neundling 6.10 (578) Neundling 7 (579) Neundling 8 (580) Neundling 9 (580) Neundling 11 (581) Neundling 12 (582) Neundling 13 (beim "Kaiser) (583) Neundling 14 (583) Neundling 15 (584) Neundling 16 Neundling 17 Neundling 18 (585) Neundling 19 Neundling 20 Neundling 21 Neundling 22 Neundling 23 Neundling 24 Neundling 25 (586) Nößlbach (587) [Abb.]: ([588]) [Karte]: Nößlbach ([588]) Nößlbach 1.2 (589) Nößlbach 3 (590) Nößlbach 4.5 (591) Nößlbach 6.14 (592) Nößlbach 7 (592) Nößlbach 8 (593) [2 Abb.]: (1)Tannzepfenmühle (Nößlbach 9) (2)Holzhäusl bei der Tannzepfmühle (Nößlb. 10) Interessant hier die Holzbauweise auf einem gemauerten Sockel ([594]) Nößlbach 9 (595) Nößlbach 10 (596) Nößlbach 11.17 (596) [2 Abb.]: (1)Bildstock bei Nößlbach Kruzifix aus Gußeisen mit Maria, Johannes und Maria Magdalena (knieend Granitsockel mit Christusmonogramm IHS und Jahreszahl 1895 (2)Unten: Die Magerlmühle (Nößlbach 11) (597) Nößlbach 12 (alt) (598) Nößlbach 12 (neu) Nößlbach 13 Nößlbach 14 Nößlbach 15 (599) Nößlbach 16 Nößlbach 17 (von Nr. 11 abgetrennt 1986) Nößlbach Nößlbach 18 (600) Nößlbach 19 Nößlbach 20 Nößlbach 21 Nößlbach 22 Nößlbach 23 (601) Nößlbach 24 Nößlbach 25 Nößlbach 26 Nößlbach 27 Nößlbach 28 (602) Nößlbach 29 Nößlbach 30 Nößlbach 31 Nößlbach 32 Nößlbach 33 (603) Nößlbach 35 Nößlbach 36 Nößlbach 37 Nößlbach 38 (604) Oberfischbach (605) [Karte]: Oberfischbach (606) Oberfischbach 1 (607) Oberfischbach 2 (607) Oberfischbach 3 (alt) Oberfischbach 3 (neu) (608) Oberfischbach 4 (609) Oberfischbach 5 (609) [5 Abb.]: (1)Abbildung links: Schmiedeeisernes Kreuz zum Andenken an den 1885 zwischen Kimmerting und Oberfischbach im 19. Lebensjahr verunglückten Johannes Jell (Oberfischbach 7) (2)Abb. links unten: Ehrwürdiges Bauernhaus mit alten metallenen Fensterläden Abbildungen der rechten Seite (3)Obere Hälfte: Kapelle in Oberfischbach in den letzten Jahren sorgfältig renoviert (4),(5)Madonna mit dem Jesuskind, im Hintergrund 2 Engel mit den Symbolen des Leidens Christi, in der Kapelle in Oberfischbach. (610 - 611) Oberfischbach 6 (612) Oberfischbach 7 Oberfischbach 8 Oberfischbach 9 Oberfischbach 10 (613) Obergahleiten (614) [Abb.]: Hötzeneck (Obergahleiten 7) (614) [Karte]: Obergahleiten (616) Obergahleiten 1 (617) Obergahleiten 2 Gumpenberg (618) Obergahleiten 3 Ruetzhof (618) [2 Abb.]: (1)Abb. links: Kapelle beim Haus Obergahleiten 4 (2)Abb. unten: Obergahleiten Blick zur Dorfmitte (619) Obergahleiten 4 (620) Obergahleiten 5 (621) Obergahleiten 6 (622) Obergahleiten 7 Hötzeneck (622) [2 Abb.]: (1)Abb. links: Kapelle bei Pecketsberg (2)Abb. unten Pecketsberg (Obergahleiten 8) (623) Obergahleiten 8 Pecktesberg (624) Obergahleiten 9 (625) Obergahleiten 10 (626) Obergahleiten 11 (627) Obergahleiten 12 (627) Obergahleiten 13 (628) Obergahleiten 14 (629) Obergahleiten 15 Obergahleiten 16 Obergahleiten 17 Obergahleiten 19 (630) Peherstorf (631) [Karte]: Peherstorf (632) Peherstorf 1 (633) Peherstorf 2 (633) Peherstorf 3 (634) [2 Abb.]: (1)Peherstorf Nr. 1 (2)Oberöhlingerhof, Peherstorf 5 (635) Peherstorf 4 (636) Peherstorf 5 (637) Peherstorf 6 (638) Peherstorf 7 (639) Peherstorf 8 Peherstorf 9 (640) Perwolfing (641) [3 Karten]: (1)Rothberg (2)Perwolfing (3)Andexling (642) Perwolfing 1 (643) Perwolfing 2.8 (643) [2 Abb.]: Perwolfing (644) Perwolfing 3 (645) Perwolfing 4.16 (646) [2 Abb.]: (1)Abb. links: bei Perwolfing aus dem Jahr 1710 (2)Abb. rechts: Breitpfeiler beim Haus Perwolfing 3 (647) Perwolfing 5 Andexling (648) Perwolfing 6 (648) Perwolfing 7 (650) Perwolfing 8 (650) Perwolfing 9 Perwolfing 10 (651) Perwolfing 11.12 (651) Perwolfing 13 Perwolfing 14 Perwolfing 15 (652) Perwolfing 16 Perwolfing 17 Perwolfing 18 Perwolfing 19 Perwolfing 20 (653) Perwolfing 21 Perwolfing 22 Perwolfing 23 Perwolfing 24 (654) Pitretsberg (655) [Karte]: Pitretsberg (656) Pitretsberg 1 (657) Pitretsberg 2 (658) [2 Abb.]: (1)Abb. links: Kapelle beim Dorf Pitretsberg (2)Abb. unten Blick auf das Dorf Pitretsberg (659) Pitretsberg 3 (660) Pitretsberg 4.7 (660) Pitretsberg 5 (661) Pitretsberg 6 (662) Pitretsberg 7 Pitretsberg 8 (663) Pitretsberg 9 Pitretsberg 10 Pitretsberg 11 Pitretsberg 12 Pitretsberg 13 (664) Reith (665) [Karte]: Reith (666) Reith 1 (667) Reith 2.3 (667) Reith 3 (668) [Abb.]: Kapelle bei Reith bemerkenswert das aus Steinen gemauerte Dach (669) Reith 4 (670) Reith 5 (670) Reith 6 (671) Reith 7 Reith 8 (673) Reith 9 Reith 10 Reith 11 (674) [2 Abb.]: (1)Bildstock bei Kollonödt (Reith 13) (2)Detail dieses Bildstockes mit der Jahreszahl 1713. Die Initialen MFN sind derzeit nicht auflösbar (675) Reith 12 Grundbuch KG Steineck 57 Reith 13 Grundbuch KG Steineck 72 Reith 14 Grundbuch KG Steineck 58 (676) Reith 15 Grundbuch KG Steineck 59 Reith 16 Grundbuch KG Steineck 73 Reith 17 Grundbuch KG Steineck 162 Reith 18 Grundbuch KG Steineck 164 (677) Reith 19 Grundbuch KG Steineck 217 (678) [Abb.]: Grenzstein der Katastralgemeinde Steineck an der Straße bei Reith vom Jahr 1787 (678) Rumerstorf (679) [Karte]: Rumerstorf (680) Rumerstorf 1 (680) [2 Abb.]: (1)Links: Troadkasten in Rumerstorf (2)Unten: Blick auf Rumerstorf von der Kapelle zur Dorfmitte (682) Rumerstorf 2 Rumerstorf 3 (683) Rumerstorf 4 (684) Rumerstorf 5.9 (684) Rumerstorf 6 (685) Rumerstorf 7 (686) [2 Abb.]: (1)Links: Kapelle von Rumerstorf 8, erbaut im Jahr 1978 (2)Rechts: Bildstock bei Rumerstorf 8. Stand als Pestsäule ursprünglich im nahen Buchetwald, soll dort ein Pestgrab angezeigt haben; wurde im Jahr 1964/65 ins Dorf versetzt und 1985 renoviert, nachdem sie von einem Lastkraftwagen umgefahren worden war (687) Rumerstorf 8 Rumerstorf 9 Rumerstorf 10 (688) Rumerstorf 11 (früher 3) Rumerstorf 12 Rumerstorf 13 (689) [Abb.]: Eingangstür zum Troadkasten von Rumerstorf, das dargestellte Muster meint die Sonnenscheibe und gibt Zeugnis vom sicheren Formgefühl der ländlichen Zimmerer (690) Scheiblberg (691) [Karte]: Scheiblberg (692) Scheiblberg 1 (693) [2 Abb.]: Scheiblberg 1 (694) Scheiblberg 2 (695) Scheiblberg 3 (696) Scheiblberg 4 (696) [2 Abb.]: (1)Scheiblhof (Scheiblberg 4) (2)Ehrenreiter (Scheiblberg 7.8) (697) Die Herleinsberger. (699) Scheiblberg 5.6 (701) [2 Abb.]: Herleinsperg (Scheiblberg 5) (1)Links: Die "Oberntür", gestaltet in Renaissanceformen, vor 1600 entstanden (1973 abgetragen) (2)Unten: Der Grand des Johann Berger vom Jahr 1829 (702) Scheiblberg 6 (703) Scheiblberg 7.8 (703) Scheiblberg 7 (neu) (704) Scheiblberg 9 (704) Scheiblberg 10 (705) Scheiblberg 11 (705) Scheiblberg 12 Scheiblberg 13 Scheiblberg 14 Scheiblberg 15 (706) Scheiblberg 16 Scheiblberg 17 Scheiblberg 18 Scheiblberg 19 Scheiblberg 20 Scheiblberg 21 (707) Scheiblberg 22 Scheiblberg 23 Scheiblberg 25 Scheiblberg 26 (708 - 709) [4 Abb.]: (1)Oben links: Kreuzsäule beim Bruckhäusl, Scheiblberg 9 hier datiert mit dem Jahr 1850 (2)Oben rechts: Die Brücke über den Froschbach in einfacher, gefälliger Formgebung; am Gewölbe datiert 1857 (3)Unten links: Kapelle unterhalb des Scheiblhofs (4)Unten rechts: Kapelle oberhalb des Scheiblhofs, ursprünglich eine Christophoruskapelle (708 - 709) Scheiblberg 27 Scheiblberg 28 Scheiblberg 30 Scheiblberg 31 Scheiblberg 34 Scheiblberg 35 (710) Schönberg (711) [Karte]: Schönberg (712) Schönberg 1 (713) Schönberg 2 (713) Schönberg 3 (714) Schönberg 4 (715) Schönberg 5 (716) Schönberg 6 (717) Schönberg 7.8 (717) Schönberg 9 (718) Schönberg 10.11 (719) Schönberg 11 (neu) (720) [Abb.]: Schönberg 4, Kapelle (720) Sexling (721) [Karte]: Sexling ([722]) Sexling 1.10 (723) Sexling 2.3 (723) [2 Abb.]: Sexling (1)Links: Bildstock bei Sexling, Inschrift GK 1832 (GK kann Georg Kobler oder Georg Kitzmüller bedeuten, Nr. 1 od. 7.8) (2)Unten Blick ins Dorf Sexling (724) Sexling 2 (neu) (725) Sexling 4 (725) Sexling 5.6 (726) Sexling 7.8 (727) Sexling 8 (neu) (728) Sexling 9 (728) Sexling 10 (Eigentümer siehe Sexling 1) (729) Sexling 11.12 (729) [2 Abb.] Zizelbauer (sexling 11.12) (1)Links: Kapelle beim Zizelhof (2)Unten: Blick auf den Zizelhof von Maria Trost aus (730) Sexling 13 (731) Sexling 14 (731) Sexling 15 Grundbuch KG Berg 119 (732) Sexling 16 (732) Sexling 17 (alt) Klingreithhäusel Herrschaft Berg 3/843 Grundbuch KG Berg 121 (733) Sexling 17 (neu) Sexling 18 herrschaft Pürnstein 161/681 Grundbuch KG Berg 122 (734) Sexling 19 Grundbuch KG Berg 153 (734) Sexling 20 Von Nr. 7.8 abgeschieben Sexling 21 Grundbuch KG Berg 270 Sexling 22 Grundbuch KG Berg 388 Sexling 23 Grundbuch KG Berg 410 (735) Sexling 24 Grundbuch KG Berg 462 Sexling 25 Grundbuch KG Berg 487 Sexling 26 Grundbuch KG Berg 489 Sexling 27 Grundbuch KG Berg 514 Sexling 28 Grundbuch KG berg 529 Sexling 29 Grundbuch KG Berg 536 (736) Sexling 30 Grundbuch KG Berg 626 Sexling 32 Grundbuch KG Berg 661 Sexling 33 Grundbuch KG Berg 660 Sexling 35 Grundbuch KG Berg 669 Sexling 36 Grundbuch KG Berg 663 Sexling 40 Grundbuch KG Berg 637 (737) Sexling 44 Grundbuch KG Berg 662 Sexling 47 Grundbuch Haus Nr. 7 in Sexling: KG Berg 220 Sexling 34 Sexling 37 Sexling 42 Sexling 43 Sexling 48 Sexling 51 (738) Spielleiten (739) [Karte]: Spielleiten (740) Spielleiten 1 (741) [Abb.]: Spielleiten 1 (742) Spielleiten 2 Spielleiten 3 (743) Spielleiten 4 (alt) Spielleiten 4 (neu) (744) Sprinzenstein (745) Eigentümer des Schlosses und der herrschaft Sprinzenstein [1253 - 1972] (746) Sprinzenstein als politische Gemeinde (1850 - 1945) (747) [Karte]: Sprinzenstein ([748]) Sprinzenstein 1 (749) Sprinzenstein 2.13 (749) [5 Abb.]: (1)Kupferstich des Schlosses Sprinzenstein aus dem Jahr 1674 von Georg Matthäus Vischer in der Topographia Austriae Superioris Modernae, Blatt 171. (2)Oben links: Felix-Kapelle beim Dorf Sprinzenstein mit der Inschrift: Gestiftet zu Ehren des heiligen Felix im Jahre nach Christi Geburt MDCCLX (1760). (3)Oben rechts: Statue des hl. Felix, wahrscheinlich aus dem Jahr 1760 (4)Unten rechts: Johannes Nepomuk-Kapelle zwischen Sprinzenstein und Altenhofen an der Landstraße, von mächtigen Bäumen stark eingeengt (5)Unten links: Statue Johannes Nepomuk aus dieser Kapelle. (750 - 751) Sprinzenstein 3 Sprinzenstein 4 (752) Sprinzenstein 5 (752) [2 Abb.]: Sprinzenstein (1)Kreuzsäule beim Schloß Sprinzenstein aus dem Jahr 1598 (2)Das Schloß am Abhang zur Kleinen Mühl in natürlich geschützter Lage (753) Sprinzenstein 6 (alt) (754) Sprinzenstein 6 (neu) Sprinzenstein 7 (755) [2 Abb.]: Sprinzenstein (1)Das Wappen des Schlosses Sprinzenstein in einer Renaissance-Kartusche: Oben rechts gekrönter schwarzer Greif (vogel), unten links ein Sprinz auf Steinen (redendes Wappen); oben links und unten rechts fünf schräg geteilte Felder; im Herzschild wachsender silberner Auerochs (2)Die Taverne des Schlosses mit der Bauinschrift 1574, eines der ältesten gemauerten Häuser der Gegend (756) Sprinzenstein 8 Sprinzenstein 9 (757) Sprinzenstein 10 Sprinzenstein 11.14 (758) Sprinzenstein 12 (alt) (758) [2 Abb.]: Sprinzenstein (1)Das Schloß, am Abhang zur Kleinen Mühl, von gewaltigen Fundamentmauern getragen (2)Die Sprinzelmühle (Sprinzenstein 11.14) in der Nähe des Schlosses an der Kleinen Mühl war lange Zeit Mühle und Säge (759) Sprinzenstein 12 (neu) Sprinzenstein 13 (760) Sprinzenstein 14 Sprinzenstein 15 Sprinzenstein 17 (761) Literatur zur Geschichte Sprinzensteins (762) Steineck (763) [Karte]: Steineck (764) Steineck 1 (765) Steineck 2 (765) [2 Abb.]: Steineck Voitenhof (Steineck 9.10) (766) Steineck 3 (alt) (767) Steineck 3 (neu) (768) Steineck 4 (768) Steineck 5 (769) Steineck 6 (770) Steineck 7 Pfeffermühle (770) [2 Abb.]: Pfeffermühle (Steineck 7) (1)Blick auf die angestaute Große Mühl mit der Zuleitung zur Mühle (2)Blick auf die Pfeffermühle in Richtung Nordwesten (771) Steineck 8 (772) [2 Abb.]: Pfeffermühl-Kapelle (1)Links: Ansicht der Kapelle, die in den letzten Jahren renoviert worden ist. (2)Rechts: Bild mit folgender Inschrift: Erinnerung an Jakob Stegmüler, welcher den 10. Juli 1881 verunglückte. Es wird gebeten um einen Vater Unser. Die Darstellung (bäuerliche Malerei) zeigt den Kanal mit unterschlächtigen Wasserrädern, darüber ein Maria-Hilf-Bild nach Vorbild des Passauer Cranach-Bildes. (773) Steineck 9.10 (774) Steineck10 (774) Steineck 11 Steineck 12 (775) Steineck 13 (775) Steineck 14 Steineck 17 Steineck 18 Steineck 15 Steineck 16 (776) Unterfischbach (777) [Karte]: Unterfischbach ([778]) Unterfischbach 1 (779) Unterfischbach 2 (779) Unterfischbach 3 (780) Unterfischbach 4 (781) [2 Abb.]: Unterfischbach (1)Freiluftmalerei (Fresko?) am Haus Unterfischbach 3 mit dem Sinnspruch: Segle ruhig weiter, Gott ist dein Begleiter, Auch wenn der Mast bricht, Gott verläßt dich nicht. Signiert mit "List" und dattiert 19. 6. 1987. (2)Blick auf das Dorf Unterfischbach mit seinen teilweise modernisierten Häusern. (782) Unterfischbach 5 (783) Unterfischbach 6.7 (783) Unterfischbach 8 (784) [2 Abb.]: Kapellen von Unterfischbach (1)Links: Kapelle bei Unterfischbach 2, erbaut im Jahr 1949, signiert mit den Initialen L A Ar (Ludwig und Anna Anreiter) und der Inschrift "Gelobt sei Jesus Christus" mit Schablonenbuchstaben (2)rechts: Kapelle beim Ruetzhof (Unterfischbach 6.7), in den letzten Jahren vorbildlich renoviert worden; im Inneren Gedächtnisinschriften an die verstorbenen der Eigentümerfamilie (785) Wandschamel (787) [Karte]: Wandschaml (788) Wandschamel 1.3 (789) Wandschamel 2.7 (789) [Abb.]: Wandschamel - Dorfmitte (790) Wandschamel 4 (791) [2 Abb.]: Kapellen von Wandschamel (1)Links: Hötzendorferkapelle an der Rohrbacher Bundesstraße zwischen der Wimholzsiedlung und der Bahnüberquerung (2)Rechts: Wegerhof-Kapelle (Wandschamel 5.6) (792) Wandschamel 5.6 (793) [Abb.]: Wegerhof-Kapelle. Die Dreifaltigkeit als Gnadenthron, bäuerliche Malerei aus dem Jahr 1744, renoviert 1856 von HHHH, und 1967 von Hans Küblböck (794) Wandschamel 8 (Das Kellerhäusl) (795) Wandschamel 9 Wandschamel 10 Wandschamel 11 Wandschamel 12 Wandschamel 13 (796) Anhang Register der Personen- und Ortsnamen Photonachweis ([797]) Register der Personen- und Ortsnamen zusammengestellt von Isfried H. Pichler (798) A (799) B = P (800) C siehe K (805) D = T (805) E (807) F = V (808) G (811) H (814) I = J (819) K = C (819) L (823) M (826) N (828) O (829) P siehe B (830) R (830) S (833) SCH (833) SEB (836) SP (836) ST (837) U (839) W (839) Z (842) Photonachweis (843) Einband ( - ) Einband ( - )

Bertrand Badie on the Trump Moment, the Science
of Suffering, and IR between Power and Weakness



Lire en français




IR retains a traditional focus on the
game of power between states as its defining characteristic. But what, so asks Bertrand
Badie, if this means that our discipline is based on a negation of our humanity?
A giant in Francophone IR, Badie has labored to instead place human suffering
at the center of analysis of the international, by letting loose sociological
insights on a truly global empirical reality. In this Talk, Badie—amongst others—challenges the centrality of the idea of
state power, which makes little sense in a world where most of the IR agenda is
defined by issues emanating from state weakness; argues for the centrality of
suffering to a more apt IR; and uses this to contextualize the Trump Moment.




Print version (pdf) of this Talk



What is (or should be), according to
you, the biggest challenge / principal debate in current International
Relations? What is your position or answer to this challenge / in this debate?



Unquestionably, it would be the matter of change. It is time to conceptualize,
and further than that, to theorize the change that is happening in the field of
International Relations (IR). Humans have always had the feeling that they are
living in a period of upheaval, but contemporary IR is really characterized by several
landmarks that illustrate the drastic extent of change. I see at least three of
them.



The first one concerns the inclusive nature of the international system.
For the first time in the history of mankind, the international system covers
nearly the whole humanity, while the Westphalian system was an exclusively European
dynamic in which the United States of America entered to turn it into a system,
that I would call, Euro-North-American.



The second element, around which publications abound (see notably Mary
Kaldor's work, Theory Talk #30), is the deep mutation of the nature of conflict. War used to be, in
the Westphalian model, a matter of competition between powers. Today we have
the feeling that weakness is replacing power, in that power cannot any longer
function as central explanatory term of conflictual situations, which are
rather manifestations of state weakness. Think of 'failing' or 'collapsing'
states, which refers to the coming apart of nations that have been built badly
as well as the deliquescence of social ties. This new form of conflictuality
completely turns the international environment upside down and constitutes a
second indicator of transformation.



The third aspect concerns mobility. Our international system used to be
fully based on the idea of territory and boundaries, on the idea that fixity
establishes the competences of States in a very precise way. In this
perspective, the state refers to territory—as the definition given by Max Weber
states very clearly—but today this territorial notion of politics is challenged
by a full range of mobilities, composed of international flows that can be
either material, informational, or human.



These are three indicators illustrating a deep transformation of the
inner nature of IR that encourage me to speak about 'intersocial relations'
rather than 'interstate relations'. The notion of interstate relations no
longer captures the entirety of the global game. Our whole theory of IR was
based on the Westphalian model as it came out of the peace of Westphalia, as it
was confirmed by the accomplishment of the nation-state construction process
and as it dominated the historical flow of international events until the fall
of the Berlin wall.



Until the fall of the wall, all that was not related to Europe or to the
United States of America, or more precisely North-America, was simply called 'periphery',
which says enough. Today, by contrast, the periphery is central at least
regarding conflictuality. We should therefore drop our Westphalian prism and
build up new analytical tools for IR that would take these mutations as their
point of departure. Doing away with our Westphalian approach to IR would mean
questioning both our classical IR theories and questioning the practical models
of action in international politics, which means the uses of diplomacy and
warfare.





How did you arrive at where you
currently are in your thinking about International Relations?



You know when we write, when we work, we are first of all influenced by
our dissatisfaction. The classical Westphalian approach to IR, as I said
earlier, did not satisfy me as I had the feeling that it was focusing on events
that no longer had the importance that we kept giving them—for instance the arms
race, great power politics, or the traditional diplomatic negotiations—while I
was seeing, maybe this was the trigger, that the greatest part of suffering in
the world was coming from places that IR theory was not really covering.



I have always told my students that IR is the science of human suffering.
This suffering exists of course where we are—in Europe, in North America, they
exist everywhere in the world—but the greatest part is outside of the
Westphalian area, so the classical approach to IR gives a marginal and
distorted image. Africa and the Middle East seen through the Westphalian prism are
a dull image, strongly different from the extraordinary wealth, both for good and
bad, that these areas of the world have. I've also always held that in a world
where 6 to 9 million people starve to death each year, the main foci of traditional
IR were derisory. Even terrorism, to which we collectively attribute so much
importance, hardly comes near how important a challenge food security is.



My three latest books take a stand against traditional IR theories. In Diplomacy of
Connivance (2012) I tried to
show that the great power game is really a game way that is much more
integrated than we usually say and that this game plays out in all multilateral
fora. There is indeed a club, and that is precisely what I wanted to describe,
a club of powers—one which results to the detriment of less powerful members in
the international system.



In Le Temps des humiliés ('the
era of the humiliated', 2014), I tried to crystallize what the classical theory
could not express, which is domination seen through the lens of the dominated,
humiliation as felt by the humiliated, violence as experienced by the
desperate. For instance, even if we look at powers as accomplished as China
today—sharing the first place with the USA in terms of GDP—we have to admit
that their historical experience of humiliation constitutes a huge source of inspiration
when it comes to the elaboration of its foreign policy.



And then, in my last book Nous ne
sommes plus seuls au monde ('we are no longer alone in the world', 2016), this
critique was even more explicit. We are writing an IR that encompasses only about
one billion of human beings, while forgetting all the others. Today it is
simply no longer true that these old powers are setting the international
agenda. Global politics today is written by the little, the weak, the dominated;
often with recourse to extreme forms of violence, but this needs to be analyzed
and understood, which would mean to totally change the IR theory.



We should not forget that in large part, IR theory was a given as the USA
triumphed in 1945. The well-known 'great power politics' that dominates
traditional IR theory, inaugurated by Morgenthau and supported by so many others,
described what was true at that time: the ability of American power to set us
free from the Nazi monster. Today the challenge is strongly different, and it
is by the way meaningful that two of the greatest American internationalist
political scientists, Robert Keohane (TheoryTalk #9) and Ned Lebow (Theory Talk #53),
have both written books that elude to the end of this global order
(respectively After Hegemony and Goodbye Hegemony). Well what interests
me is exactly to dig into what comes after hegemony.





What would a student
need to become a specialist in International Relations or understand the world
in a global way?



First of all, I would advise them to rename their science, as I said
earlier, and to call it intersocial relations. The future of what we call IR
comes down to the ability to understand the extremely rich, multiple and
diversified interactions that are happening among and across the world's
societies. It does not mean that we have to completely abandon the state-centric
perspective, but rather dethrone states from the middle of this multiplicity of
actors in order to realize how very often these states are powerless when faced
with these different actors. That would be my first advice.



My second advice would be to look
ahead and not back. Do not let yourself be dominated by the Westphalian model,
and to try to build up what we need—since almost nothing has been done yet
today to construct this post-Westphalian, meta-Westphalian model. Beyond power,
there are things that we still misidentify or overlook while they are the driving
forces of today's and tomorrow's IR. From this point of view, sociology could
prove particularly useful. I consider, for instance, that Émile Durkheim is a very important inspiration to understand the
world today. Here is an author to study and to apply to IR.



The third advice that I would give them would be to not forget that IR
or intersocial relations are indeed the sciences of human suffering. We should
be able to place suffering at the core of the thinking. We've lost far too much
time staring at power, now it is time to move on to place human suffering at
the center. Why? First of all because it is ethically better; maybe will we be
able to learn from it? But also because in today's actual international
politics suffering is more proactive than power, which is not necessarily
optimistic but if recognized, would allow us a better questioning of new forms
of conflictuality. Perhaps unfortunately, the international agenda is no longer
fixed with canons, but with tears. Maybe this is the key point on which we
should concentrate our reflection.



Your insistence on placing suffering at the center of
IR scholarship seems to place you firmly alongside those who recognize "grievance" ratherthan "greed" as a central logic of international politics. What do you make of this parallel?



You are right: the idea of grievance, of recrimination, is a structuring
logic of the international game today. We did not see it coming for two
reasons. First of all because our traditional analysis of international
politics presupposed a unity of time, as if the African time, the Chinese time,
the Indian time and the European time where all identical. Yet this is
completely wrong because we, in our European culture, have not understood that
before Westphalia there were
political models, political histories, that profoundly marked the people that would
then shape contemporary politics. Remember that China is 4000 years of empire,
remember that precolonial Africa was composed of kingdoms, empires,
civilizations, philosophies, arts... Remember that India also is multi-millenary.
The Westphalian time came to totally deny and crush this temporality, this
historicity, almost in a negationist way, which means that, in the spirit of
those who were defending the Westphalian model, only this model was associated
to the Renaissance; and that the age of enlightenment and reason with a big R
had a calling to reformat the world as if it were a hard drive. This was a
senseless bet, a bet for which our European ancestors who led it had excuses
because at that time we did not know all these histories, at that time we did
not have all the knowledge we today have of the other and thus we simply
resolved it, through the negation of alterity. Yet, IR ought on the contrary aspire
to the accomplishment of alterity. Inevitably, all those who saw themselves
denied their historicity, over several centuries and even several millenaries,
accumulated a feeling of recrimination, of particularly deep grievances.



The second element is that all of this happened in a context of
disequilibrium of power resources, linked to different factors that reflected
indeed the fact that at a given moment of time western powers were both
literally and figuratively better armed than other societies. Abovementioned negation
of alterity was mapped onto, and amplified, by the forceful imposition of a
multilateral system that turned into the worst situation, into a proclaimed
hierarchy of cultures; as a result and there were, as Jules Ferry put it in the France
of the 19th century, 'races'; as in, 'We have the obligation to
educate inferior races'. It is not the beginning of history, but it is the
beginning of a history of humiliation. And through subsequent waves of globalization,
this humiliation has turned into a central nerve running through international
life. A nerve that has been used by both the powerful, who made a tool out of
humiliating the others to better dominate them (think here of the opium wars, colonization)
and simultaneously a nerve that fed the reaction of mobilization in the extra-Westphalian
world by those that had to stand up against those who were humiliating them. So
you see how it truly lies at the basis of IR. In my mind, it became a forceful paradigm,
it explains everything, even though others factors continue to weigh in on
actual dynamics.



In order to appreciate all this, we need a sociological approach, which
has for me two aspects. Both these aspects must be considered together for the
approach to be well understood. The first one is a timeless aspect, which is to
consider that everywhere and in all eras politics is a social product. Politics
cannot be understood as somehow outside society. This I would say contradicts the
majority of IR scholars, who believe excessively in the autonomy of politics
and of the state—even if only for analytical purposes. The second element of
this sociological approach is the historical or temporal component. That is
what I was talking about earlier: with globalization the social fabric strongly
progressed compared to the political fabric, and considering that intersocial
relations grew, we need a sociological approach to understand them.





Do you think that the Trump period constitutes a
fundamental break with the conduct of IR?



Trump himself maybe not, but what he represents certainly. If we look at
the USA today we see, since the new millennium, three models succeeding each
other. After 11-09 there was a time of neo-conservatism where globalization was
considered by American leaders as a means or maybe a chance to universalize the
American model, willingly or not. By force, as was the case in Iraq in 2003.
This model failed.



This lead to a second model which I would describe as a liberal model,
neo-liberal, incarnated by Obama who learnt from the lessons of the failure of neo-conservatism,
and had the courage to question the hypothesis hitherto considered as indisputable
of American leadership in the world, and who considered that the USA could win
only through soft power or smart power or free-trade. That is the reason why
Obama was just a little bit interventionist and was counting a lot on the TTIP
and on all these transregional agreements.



With Trump we arrive at a third model, one that I would call
neo-nationalist, that looks at globalization in a different way. In his perspective,
globalization constitutes a chance to satisfy the national American interests. The
idea of the national comes back after a long interlude of a globalizing vision.
It does not mean that we are not interventionist anymore. What happened in
Syria proves it. It means that we will intervene not according to the needs of
globalization but rather to American interests. It is about sharing a strong
and powerful image of the USA on the one hand and on the other serving the
concrete interests of the American people and nation.



This neo-nationalist model is not defended only by Trump, that is the
reason why I was saying that we should not consider Trump individually. We find
it exactly the same way with Putin. We find it by many other world leaders,
such as Erdogan or Duterte or Victor Orbán—really different figures—or Marshal
Sissi in Egypt.



We find it as well in attitudes, for instance Brexit in Great Britain, in
right-wing neo-populism in Europe: Ms. Le Pen, Mr. Wilders...  or in a certain left-wing neo-populism as
Mélenchon in France. It is in the air, seeming almost a passing fad. But it
constitutes perhaps a double rupture within IR. First of all because since the
emergence of globalization, let's say around the 70's, the national interest as
a thought category was bit by bit replaced with approaches in terms of collective
goods. Today by contrast we witness the abandonment of this image of collective
goods for a return to the national interest. This is very clear in Trump's renouncing
of the COP21 of Paris. At the same time, second, this constitutes some form of the
rehabilitation of the idea of power, which again seeps into the language of IR.




You know the IR scholar is not a neutral person, we have to use our science
towards positive action and for the definition of sound public policies. Going
against the idea of collective goods, casting doubt on the ideas of human
security, environmental security, food security, and sanitary security is
extremely dangerous because the composition of national interests and egoism
will never converge to a globally coherent policy. It is the weak that will
suffer first.



And the same time that power is reinstated as a driving principle of IR
praxis, the paradox is that great powers are becoming more and more powerless. If
we look only since 1989, and ask, when did state power ever triumph in IR?
Where did the strongest ever find a battleship enabling him to resolve a
problem to his benefit and according to his goals? Never. Not in Somalia, not
in Afghanistan, not in Iraq, not in Syria, not in Palestine. Nowhere. Not in
Sahel, not in the Democratic Republic of the Congo. Nowhere. So I am a little
worried, indeed, about this naive and old-fashioned rehabilitation of state
power.





Can we say that globalization, or rather the ambition of
integration at either the European or global scale, has failed? Can today be
considered a good moment to bury of the idea of integration?



I do not like burials, it is not an expression that I would use, but
your question is very pertinent. For around twenty years I have been saying and
teaching that regional integration constituted an intermediary and realistic
level of adaptation between the era of the nation state and that of globalization,
which means that I believed for a long time that regional integration was the
final step towards a global governance of the world.



I thought for a long time that what was not possible at the global
scale, a global government, was possible at the regional level and this would already
strongly simplify the world map and thus go in the way of this adhesion to the
collective dimension required by globalization. Nevertheless, not only Europe
suffers a setback, but all the regional constructions in the world are in a
similar situation. Mr. Trump openly shoves the NAFTA agreement, MERCOSUR is
down as every State that is composing it has recriminations against it, and we
could extend the list… All the forms of integration that have been set by
Chavez around his Bolivian ideal have ceased to exist; Africa progresses very
slowly in terms of regional integration; the Arab Maghreb Union, which is an
essential device, totally failed. Thus indeed the situation does not look good.



In the case of Europe there is a double phenomenon: on the one hand,
there is this really grave failure due to the secession of Great Britain from
Europe, and then there is a general malaise of the European model. Brexit is
really rare, if you look at the contemporary history of IR it is simply
unprecedented that a state shuts the door on a regional or global organization.
As far as I remember, it only happened a few times before, with Indonesia in
the UN in 1964, which lasted only 19 months. It happened with Morocco with the
African Union and Morocco is currently reintegrating in it. This British
situation came as a thunderbolt, worsened by the fact that paradoxically it is
not so much because of regional integration that the British voted against the
European Union. It was more from an anti-migration, xenophobic and nationalist
(in reference to that nationalism trend that I was earlier talking about)
perspective and what is dramatic is that we can clearly see that the
nationalist sentiment is really attacking the inner principles of regional
integration.



I was saying that in the European case there are internal problems which
run even deeper than the British defection, and I will underline at least two
of them. First of all there is a democratic deficit of Europe, meaning that
Europe was not able to match electoral spaces with the ones where decisions get
made; people still vote at the national level while the decisions are taken in
Brussels. In consequence, democratic control over these decisions is extremely
weak. How to resolve this equation? And here the breakdown is total since very
few people are coming up with suggestions. The other factor of this crisis is,
according to me, the fact that Europe has been built with success after World
War II in a progressive way around association and indeed, Durkheim proved it,
the integrative logic makes sense. Unity makes strength and it did make
strength once in Europe to prevent war, a third World War, and secondly to
encourage the reconstruction of European countries where economy was totally
collapsed. This time is now over and it is the fault of Europe to not have
known how to recontextualize itself, to react to the new contexts.



Paying one more time tribute to Durkheim who guessed it right, Durkheim
said that there are two ways of constructing social ties: around association
and around solidarity. I think that the time of association is now over, we
should enter in the time of solidarity, which does not consist in saying 'We
Germans are associated with Greece', but rather 'We Germans are joined together
with Greece because we know that if Greece collapses, in a long term
perspective, we will suffer the consequences'. Thus this idea of fundamental
unity is an idea that has been a little bit overlooked, abandoned by the
Europeans and now they find themselves in a complete paralysis.





Is the decolonization period still having an impact on
contemporary IR?



Oh totally, totally. I would first say because it is a major event in
the field of IR, which made the World switch from 51 sovereign States of the UN
in 1945 to 193 today but above all, a very aggravating circumstance, is that
this decolonization has been a complete failure and this failure weighs
enormously on international politics.



It has been a failure because decolonization assumed the format of copying
the western state model in countries that were accessing independence, while
this model was not necessarily adapted, which provoked a proliferation of
failed states, and these collapsed states had a terrible effect on IR.



Secondly because decolonization should have led to the enrichment and to
the substantial modification of multilateralism, by creating new institutions
able to take charge of new challenges resulting from decolonization. Yet,
except the creation of UNCTAD in 1964 and of
UNDP in 1965, there have been very little innovations in terms of global governance.
Thus global governance remains dominated by what I earlier called 'the club',
which means the great powers from the north, and this is very dysfunctional for
the management of contemporary crises. Then also because the ancient colonial
powers happen to find new forms of domination that did somehow complicate the
international game. Thus in fact decolonization is a daily aspect of the crisis
that the international system faces today.





In conclusion, which question should we have asked? In
other terms, which question have we forgot?



I found your questions very pertinent as it allowed the discussion of themes
that I consider essentials. Now, the big problem that makes me worry is the
great gap between the analysts and the actors in IR. I am not saying that the
analysts understood everything, far from it, but I think that IR theorists are
very conscious of some of these transformations I have mentioned. If you look
at some great authors such as James Rosenau, Ned Lebow or Robert Keohane, to
name just a few—there are way more—they all contributed to the reconstruction
of IR.



What truly strikes me is the autism of political actors, they think that
they are still at the time of the Congress of Vienna and that is an
extraordinary source of tension. Thus as long as this spirit of change does not
reach political actors, maybe Barack Obama was the first one to enter this game
and then the parenthesis was closed, as long as there will not be this move
towards the discovery of a new world, maybe as well through the inclusion in
our reflection about the international fabric such partners as China, it is not
normal that this very powerful China does not have any choice but to share the
paradigm and the model of action proper to occidental diplomacy, as long as we
would not have done this precise effort, well, we will remain in the negation
of the human, and that is the essential problem today, we are unable to
understand that at the end there is just one unity, which is the human being.



I had the chance to visit 105 countries and everywhere I met the same
men and the same women, with their pain, with their happiness, their hardship,
their joy, their sorrow, their needs that were everywhere identical. As long as
we will not understand that, well, we will be living in a world that is in total
contradiction with what it is truly and essentially. We will live in a world of
artifice and thus a world of violence.



Related links  



Read Badie's
The Arab Spring: A starting point (SER
Études 2011) here
(pdf)



Print version (pdf) of this Talk

Bertrand Badie sur le moment Trump, la science de la souffrance, et les RI
entre puissance et faiblesse

read in English






La discipline de RI se focalise traditionnellement sur l'enjeu de pouvoir
entre états. Mais, s'interroge Bertrand Badie, est-ce que cela veut dire que
notre discipline est basée sur la négation de notre humanité ? Un géant
dans les RI françaises, Badie a œuvré pour remplacer le pouvoir et pour mettre
la souffrance au cœur de l'analyse de l'international, en appliquant des idées
sociologiques sur une réalité véritablement globale. Dans ce Talk, Badie, entre autres, défie la
centralité de l'idée de pouvoir, qui a peu de sens dans un monde où la plupart
de l'agenda international est défini par des défis qu'émanent de la faiblesse ;
défend la centralité de la souffrance pour une discipline de RI plus adaptée ;
et utilise ces idées de base pour contextualiser le Moment Trump.




Quel est selon vous actuellement le plus grand défi ou débat dans le
domaine des Relations Internationales ? Quelle est votre position vis-à-vis de
cet ou ces enjeu(x) ?



Incontestablement, c'est la question du
changement. C'est à dire que le moment est venu de conceptualiser, et au-delà
même, de théoriser le changement qui s'effectue dans les Relations
Internationales (RI). On a toujours le sentiment qu'on vit une période de
changement, mais concernant les RI nous avons plusieurs repères qui montrent
l'effectivité du changement. J'en vois au moins trois.



Le premier, c'est la nature inclusive
du système international. Pour la première fois dans l'Histoire de l'humanité
le système international couvre la quasi-totalité de l'humanité, alors que le
système Westphalien était un système Européen dans lequel les Etats-Unis sont
entrés pour en faire un système, je dirais, euro-nord-américain.



Deuxième élément, et plusieurs ouvrages
déjà ont permis de le montrer, il y a une mutation profonde de la nature du
conflit. La guerre était autrefois, dans le modèle Westphalien, une affaire de
compétition de puissance. Aujourd'hui on a le sentiment que la faiblesse
remplace la puissance, c'est à dire la puissance n'est plus explicative des
situations belligènes, que l'on doit trouver davantage dans les manifestations
de faiblesse : que ce soit les « collapsing states », c'est à dire le
déchirement des Nations souvent mal ou hâtivement construites ou encore la
déliquescence des liens sociaux. Cette nouvelle conflictualité vient
complètement bouleverser la donne internationale et constitue un deuxième
marqueur de transformation.



Le troisième axe, c'est ce que
j'appellerais la mobilité. Tout notre système international reposait sur l'idée
de territoire et de frontière, sur l'idée de fixité marquant de manière très
précise les compétences des Etats. L'Etat renvoie au territoire, comme la
définition donnée par Max Weber l'indique très clairement, alors qu'aujourd'hui
le territoire est défié par toute une série de mobilités, c'est à dire de flux transnationaux
: qu'il s'agisse de flux commerciaux, de flux d'informations ou de flux humains
à travers notamment toutes les diverses formes de migrations.



Donc voilà au moins trois indicateurs
objectifs d'une transformation profonde de la nature même des RI qui m'incitent
d'abord à parler plus volontiers désormais de « relations intersociales »
plus que de « relations interétatiques ». Les relations entre Etats
ne saturent plus le jeu mondial et ça amène à considérer que toute notre
théorie des RI reposait sur le modèle Westphalien tel qu'il est issu de la paix
de Westphalie, tel qu'il a été confirmé par l'accomplissement du travail de
construction des Etats-Nations et tel qu'il a dominé l'actualité internationale
jusqu'à la chute du Mur. Jusqu'à la chute du Mur, ce qui ne relevait pas de l'Europe
et des Etats-Unis, et de l'Amérique du Nord disons plus exactement, était nommé
périphérique, ce qui en dit long. Aujourd'hui la périphérie est centrale au
moins du point de vue de la conflictualité, donc il faut abandonner notre
grammaire Westphalienne et construire un nouveau guide d'analyse des RI qui
tienne compte de ces mutations. Supprimer notre grammaire Westphalienne des RI,
c'est remettre en cause notre théorie classique des RI et c'est remettre en
cause aussi les modèles pratiques d'action en politique internationale, c'est à
dire l'ordinaire de la diplomatie.





Comment est-ce que vous êtes arrivé dans votre pensée autour les Relations
Internationales ?



Vous savez souvent quand on écrit,
quand on travaille, on est d'abord influencé par son insatisfaction. C'est à
dire que la théorie classique Westphalienne des RI, comme je l'ai dit tout à
l'heure, ne me satisfaisait pas parce que j'avais l'impression qu'elle
focalisait sur des évènements qui n'avaient plus l'importance qu'on continuait
à leur prêter, par exemple la course aux armement, les relations entre
puissances ou les négociations diplomatiques traditionnelles alors que je
voyais, peut-être est-ce là l'élément déclenchant, que l'essentiel des
souffrances dans le monde venait d'espaces que ne couvrait pas réellement la
théorie des RI.



J'ai toujours dit à mes étudiants que
les RI c'était la science des souffrances humaines. Ces souffrances bien sûr
elles existent chez nous, elles existent en Europe, elles existent en Amérique
du Nord, elles existent partout dans le monde mais l'essentiel des souffrances
se situe hors champ westphalien et du coup l'analyse classique des RI en
donnait une image tout d'abord marginale et déformée. L'Afrique ou le Moyen
Orient vus au prisme du système Westphalien avaient une allure aplatie qui ne
correspondait en rien à l'extraordinaire richesse, en bien et en mal, de ces
régions du monde. Je considérais aussi que dans un monde où 6 à 9 millions
d'individus meurent de faim chaque année, les grands agendas des RI classiques
étaient dérisoires. Même le terrorisme, auquel on donne tant d'importance, a
des scores dérisoires par rapport à ceux de l'insécurité alimentaire.



Mes trois derniers livres sont trois
cris de révolte contre la théorie classique des RI. La diplomatie de
connivence est un livre dans lequel j'ai essayé de montrer qu'en réalité le
jeu des puissances était un jeu beaucoup plus intégré qu'on ne le dit et
renvoyant souvent à de fausses conflictualités. Il y a bien un club, et c'est
ça que j'essayais de décrire, un club de puissants.



Le Temps des humiliés était là
pour mettre en scène justement ce que la théorie classique ne savait pas
exprimer, c'est à dire la domination vue du côté des dominés, l'humiliation vue
du côté des humiliés, la violence vue du côté des désespérés. Même si on
regarde des puissances aussi accomplies que la Chine aujourd'hui, première ex
aequo avec les Etats-Unis en PIB, il faut bien admettre que la mémoire de
l'humiliation constitue pour la Chine une source énorme d'inspiration et
d'élaboration de son actuelle politique étrangère.



Et puis, dans mon dernier livre Nous
ne sommes plus seuls au monde, là le cri était encore plus direct, c'est à
dire nous sommes en train d'écrire les RI qui concernent un gros milliard
d'êtres humains en oubliant tous les autres et aujourd'hui ce ne sont pas ces
vieilles puissances qui font l'agenda international. Il est écrit à
l'initiative du petit, du faible, du dominé, avec bien entendu des recours à
des formes de violences extrêmes, mais qu'il faut essayer d'analyser et de
comprendre, donc totalement renverser la théorie des RI.



Il ne faut pas oublier que l'essentiel
de la théorie des RI nous a été livré par les Etats-Unis triomphants en 1945.
Le fameux « power politics » qui domine la théorie classique des RI,
inaugurée par Morgenthau et porté par tellement d'autres, mettait en scène ce
qui était vrai à l'époque, c'est à dire la capacité de la puissance américaine
de nous délivrer du monstre nazi. Aujourd'hui l'enjeu il est tout autre, et
c'est d'ailleurs significatif que deux des plus grands politistes
internationalistes américains, Robert Keohane (Theory Talk #9) et Ned Lebow (TheoryTalk #53), aient écrit
le premier un livre qui s'appelle After hegemony et le second Goodbye
hegemony. Et bien justement, moi ce qui m'intéresse c'est de voir ce qu'il
y a après l'hégémonie.





Une question maintenant pour les étudiants qui aspireraient à se
spécialiser dans le domaine des RI : quels conseils ?



D'abord je leur conseillerais de
débaptiser leur science, comme je le disais tout à l'heure, et de l'appeler
relations intersociales, c'est à dire que l'avenir de ce que nous nous appelons
les Relations Internationales se trouve dans la capacité de comprendre les
interactions extrêmement riches, multiples et diversifiées qui s'opèrent entre
les sociétés du monde. Ce qui ne veut pas dire de complètement abandonner la
piste des Etats, mais replacer les Etats au milieu de cette multiplicité
d'acteurs pour constater souvent l'impuissance de ces États face à ces acteurs
nouveaux. Ce serait mon premier conseil.



Mon deuxième conseil c'est regarder
devant eux et non derrière eux, c'est à dire ne pas se laisser dominer par le
modèle westphalien et essayer de bâtir ce dont nous avons besoin parce que
presque rien n'a été fait encore aujourd'hui pour bâtir ce modèle
post-westphalien, méta-westphalien. Au-delà de la puissance il y a des choses
que l'on identifie encore mal et qui sont le moteur des RI. De ce point de vue-là,
l'aide de la sociologie est particulièrement précieuse car si nous sommes dans
des relations intersociales, évidemment, la sociologie a un rôle très important
à jouer. J'ai considéré, dans ma contribution au The return of the theorists que Durkheim est une source très importante d'inspiration
pour comprendre le monde aujourd'hui. Voilà un auteur à étudier et à appliquer
aux RI.



Le troisième conseil que je leur
donnerais c'est de ne pas oublier qu'effectivement les « RI » ou les
relations intersociales sont les sciences de la souffrance humaine. Il faut
savoir remettre la souffrance au centre de la réflexion. On a trop perdu de
temps à analyser la puissance, il est temps maintenant de se mettre du côté de
la souffrance. Pourquoi ? D'abord parce que éthiquement c'est meilleur,
peut-être pourra-t-on en tirer alors des enseignements pratiques ? Mais aussi
pour une deuxième raison, c'est que dans les nouvelles RI la souffrance est
plus proactive que la puissance, ce qui n'est pas forcément optimiste mais qui
permet notamment de mieux s'interroger sur les formes nouvelles de
conflictualité. Hélas ce n'est plus avec des canons que l'on écrit l'agenda
international, mais c'est avec des larmes. C'est peut-être là qu'il y a un
effort important à consentir sur le plan de la réflexion.





Dans Le temps des humiliés, vous proposez une lecture durkheimienne
des RI dont l'accent est surtout mis sur le « grievance » qui
s'oppose à une autre logique : celle du « greed ». Que pensez-vous de
ce parallèle ?



« Greed » on peut le traduire
par accaparement, captation. En réalité vous avez raison, l'idée de grievance,
de récrimination, le mot est parfait aussi en français, est une idée très
structurante du jeu international. On ne l'a pas vu venir pour deux raisons.
D'abord parce que notre analyse classique des RI supposait une unité de temps,
comme si le temps africain, le temps chinois, le temps indien et le temps
européen étaient identiques. Or ceci est complètement faux parce que nous dans
notre culture européenne nous n'avons pas compris qu'avant Westphalie il y
avait des modèles politiques, des histoires qui avaient profondément marqué les
peuples qui les avaient alors façonnés. Pensez que la Chine c'est 4000 ans
d'empire, pensez que l'Afrique avant la colonisation c'était des royaumes, des
empires, des civilisations, un art, des productions artistiques. Pensez que
l'Inde aussi est multimillénaire. Le temps Westphalien est venu totalement nier
et écraser cette temporalité, cette historicité, presque sur un mode
négationniste, c'est à dire que dans l'esprit de ceux qui étaient porteurs du
modèle Westphalien seul ce modèle associé à la Renaissance et au Siècle des
Lumières et à la Raison avec un grand R avait vocation à formater le monde. Or,
c'était un pari insensé, un pari pour lequel nos ancêtres Européens qui l'ont
mené avaient des excuses parce qu'à l'époque on connaissait mal ces Histoires,
à l'époque on n'avait pas cette connaissance de l'autre et de l'altérité donc
on a réglé ça au plus simple, c'est à dire à partir de la négation de
l'altérité. Or les RI c'est au contraire l'accomplissement de l'altérité. Donc,
inévitablement tous ceux qui se sont vus nier dans leur historicité sur
plusieurs siècles et même plusieurs millénaires ont accumulé un ressentiment de
récrimination, de grievance particulièrement fort.



Le deuxième élément c'est que tout ceci
s'est opéré dans un contexte de déséquilibre des ressources de puissance, lié à
différents facteurs qui faisaient qu'effectivement à un moment donné du temps
les puissances occidentales étaient mieux armées au sens propre, au sens
figuré, que les autres sociétés. Donc cette négation de l'altérité a été
aggravée par l'imposition d'un système multilatéral de force qui s'est traduit
de la pire des façons, c'est à dire à partir d'une hiérarchie proclamée des
cultures, donc voilà il y avait comme disait Jules Ferry, en France au
XIXe siècle, les « races », « Nous avons l'obligation d'éduquer les races inférieures ».
C'est le début d'une Histoire, c'est le début de l'Histoire de l'humiliation et
comme au même moment la mondialisation venait à se faire, cette humiliation est
devenue le nerf de la vie international. Un nerf qui a été utilisé autant par
les puissants, qui en ont fait un instrument, c'est à dire où on va humilier
les autres pour mieux les dominer (guerres de l'Opium,
la colonisation) et en même temps un nerf qui a irrigué la réaction
mobilisatrice de ce monde extra-westphalien qui pour exister a eu besoin de
s'affirmer contre ceux qui les humiliaient. Donc vous voyez c'est vraiment la
trame des nouvelles RI. Dans mon
esprit c'est devenu un paradigme, ça explique tout même si d'autres facteurs
continuent à expliquer parallèlement.



Et pour apprécier cela on a besoin d'une
approche sociologique, ce que pour moi a
deux fonctions. Ces deux fonctions il faut les avoir en tête toutes les
deux pour bien comprendre ce qu'elle veut dire. La première c'est une fonction
intemporelle, c'est à dire considérer que partout et de tout temps le politique
est un produit social, donc ne peut pas être compris hors de la société, ce qui
n'était pas forcément la posture de certains et même de, je dirais, la majorité
des analystes qui croyaient de manière excessive à une autonomie du politique
et de l'Etat. La deuxième composante de cette approche sociologique est une
composante temporelle historique. Ce que je vous disais tout à l'heure : avec
la mondialisation le social a beaucoup progressé en propre par rapport au
politique et les relations intersociales, ayant grandi, on a besoin d'une
approche sociologique pour les comprendre.





Est-ce que vous pensez que « le moment Trump » constitue une
rupture fondamentale avec la conduite des RI ?



Trump en soi peut-être pas, ce qu'il
représente certainement. C'est à dire si on regarde les Etats-Unis on voit,
depuis le changement de millénaire, trois modèles se succéder. Vous avez eu au
lendemain du 11 Septembre un temps néo-conservateur où la mondialisation était
considérée par les dirigeants Américains comme un moyen ou peut-être une chance
d'universaliser le modèle américain de gré ou de force. De force comme ce fut
le cas par exemple en Irak en 2003. Ce modèle a échoué.



Cela a amené un deuxième modèle qui
est, je dirais, un modèle libéral, néo-libéral, incarné par Obama qui tirant
les leçons de l'échec du néo-conservatisme, a eu le courage de remettre en
cause l'hypothèse jugée jusque-là indiscutable d'un leadership américain et
considéré que les Etats-Unis ne pouvaient gagner aujourd'hui qu'à travers le
soft power ou le smart power ou le libre échangisme. C'est la raison pour
laquelle Obama se faisait très peu interventionniste et misait beaucoup sur le
TTIP, sur tous ces accords transrégionaux.



Avec Trump est arrivé un troisième
modèle, que j'appellerais néo-nationaliste, qui considère la mondialisation
mais de façon différente. La mondialisation est ramenée dans son esprit à une
chance donnée de satisfaire les intérêts nationaux américains, l'idée de « national
interest » rejaillit après ce long temps de vision globalisante. Ca ne
veut pas dire qu'on n'est pas interventionniste. Ce qui s'est passé en Syrie le
démontre. Ça veut dire qu'on interviendra non pas en fonction des besoins de la
mondialisation mais en fonction des intérêts des Etats-Unis. Il s'agit de
montrer l'image des Etats-Unis forts, puissants et d'autre part de servir les
intérêts concrets du peuple américain et de la nation américaine.



Ce modèle néo-nationaliste n'est pas
porté par Trump tout seul, c'est la raison pour laquelle je disais qu'il ne
faut pas prendre Trump isolément. On le retrouve exactement de la même manière
chez Poutine. On le retrouve chez quantité d'autres dirigeants du monde, comme
par exemple Erdogan ou Duterte ou Victor Orbán, donc des personnages aussi
différents, ou le Maréchal Sissi en Egypte.



On le retrouve dans des postures : le
Brexit en Grande-Bretagne, ce néo-populisme de droite en Europe : Mme Le Pen,
Mr Wilders, voire un certain néo-populisme de gauche comme Mélenchon en France.
Bref il est dans l'air du temps, c'est presque un effet de mode et il constitue
peut-être une double rupture dans les RI.



D'abord parce que depuis l'avènement de
la mondialisation, les années 70 disons en gros même si la mondialisation n'est
pas née à un jour précis, on avait un peu laissé de côté l'idée d'intérêt
national pour raisonner en termes de biens collectifs. Là c'est un abandon des
biens collectifs et un retour vers l'intérêt national. On le voit bien, l'un
des actes de Trump a été de dire que la COP21 de Paris doit être reconsidérée.
Et puis c'est une certaine forme aussi de réhabilitation de la force, qui
redevient le langage des RI.



Voilà deux bonnes raisons d'abord de
compléter notre science positive pour comprendre cette nouvelle tentation mais
aussi pour s'en inquiéter. Vous savez l'internationaliste ce n'est pas
quelqu'un de neutre, c'est aussi quelqu'un qui doit mettre sa science au
service de l'action et de la définition des politiques publiques. Aller à
l'encontre de l'idée de biens communs, c'est à dire à nouveau jeter un doute
sur l'idée de sécurité humaine, de sécurité environnementale, de sécurité
alimentaire, de sécurité sanitaire c'est extrêmement dangereux car ce n'est
jamais la composition des intérêts et des égoïsmes nationaux qui fera une
politique globalement cohérente. C'est le faible qui en pâtira le premier.



La deuxième raison c'est ce paradoxe à
un moment où l'on voit que la puissance est de plus en plus impuissante, j'ai
fait tout un livre là-dessus, de réhabiliter la force. Or regardez, ne
serait-ce que depuis 1989, où la force a-t-elle triomphé sur le plan des RI ?
Où donc le plus fort a gagné la bataille qui lui a permis de résoudre le problème
à son avantage ou conformément à ses objectifs ? Jamais. Ni en Somalie, ni en
Afghanistan, ni en Irak, ni en Syrie, ni en Palestine. Nulle part. Ni au Sahel,
ni en République Démocratique du Congo. Nulle part. Donc je suis un peu
inquiet, effectivement, de cette réhabilitation naïve et ringarde de la force.





Peut-on considérer que l'idée de la mondialisation, ou plutôt de l'ambition
intégratrice, aurait échoué ? Devrait-on enterrer l'idée d'intégration
régionale ou mondiale ?



Je n'aime pas les enterrements, ce
n'est pas un terme que j'emploierai, mais votre question est très pertinente.
Pendant près de vingt ans j'ai enseigné que l'intégration régionale c'était
l'échelon intermédiaire et réaliste entre le temps des nations et le temps de
la globalisation, c'est à dire j'ai longtemps cru que l'intégration régionale
était l'antichambre d'une gouvernance globale du monde.



J'ai longtemps cru que ce qui n'était
pas possible à l'échelle mondiale, à un gouvernement mondial, pouvait l'être
au  niveau régional et déjà simplifier de
beaucoup la carte du monde et donc de progresser vers cette adhésion au
collectif que commande la mondialisation. Or non seulement l'Europe est en
échec, vous avez raison de le dire, mais toutes les constructions régionales
dans le monde sont en échec. Alors Mr. Trump bouscule ouvertement le NAFTA
ALENA, le MERCOSUR est en panne chaque Etat qui le compose a des récriminations
à son encontre, on pourrait continuer l'énumération… Toutes les formes
d'intégration que Chavez avait mis en place autour de son idéal bolivarien
n'existent plus, l'Afrique ne progresse que très très très lentement en matière
d'intégration régionale : l'Union du Maghreb Arabe, qui est quand même un
dispositif essentiel, a totalement échoué. Donc effectivement la conjoncture
n'est pas bonne.



Pour l'Europe le phénomène est double :
d'une part il y a cet échec très grave du départ de la Grande Bretagne de
l'Europe et puis il y a un malaise général du modèle européen. Alors, le départ
de la Grande Bretagne c'est très grave parce que c'est très rare si vous
regardez l'Histoire contemporaine des RI qu'un Etat claque la porte d'une
organisation régionale ou mondiale. C'est arrivé avec l'Indonésie aux Nations
Unies en 1964, ça n'a duré que 19 mois. C'est arrivé pour le Maroc au sein de
l'Union Africaine et le Maroc est actuellement en voie de réintégration. Donc
ce fait Britannique claque comme un coup de tonnerre, aggravé par le fait que
paradoxalement ce n'est pas tant sur l'idée d'intégration régionale que les
Britanniques ont voté contre l'UE. C'est beaucoup plus dans un réflexe
anti-migratoire, xénophobe, nationaliste (correspondant à cet élan de
nationalisme que je décrivais tout à l'heure) et donc ce qui est dramatique
c'est que l'on voit bien que cet ère du temps nationaliste vient réellement
attaquer les principes même de l'intégration régionale.



Alors je disais que pour l'Europe il y
a des problèmes internes encore plus profonds que la défection Britannique,
j'en vois au moins deux.



D'abord il y a un échec démocratique de
l'Europe, c'est à dire l'Europe n'a pas su faire coïncider les espaces
d'élection et les espaces de décisions, le peuple vote au niveau national et
les décisions se prennent à Bruxelles. Du coup, le contrôle démocratique sur
les décisions est extrêmement faible. Comment résoudre cette équation ? Et là
la panne est complète car personne ne propose de solutions.



L'autre élément à mon avis composant de
cette crise, c'est que l'Europe a été construite avec succès au lendemain de la
Seconde Guerre Mondiale de manière progressive sur le maître mot d'association
et effectivement, Durkheim l'a montré, la logique d'intégration associative
fait sens. C'est à dire l'union fait la force et l'union a fait la force en son
temps en Europe pour empêcher la guerre premièrement, c'est à dire une
troisième guerre européenne au XXe siècle, et deuxièmement pour favoriser la
reconstruction de pays européens dont l'économie s'était totalement effondrée.
Ce temps-là est terminé et la faute de l'Europe c'est de ne pas avoir su se
contextualiser, c'est à dire réagir aux contextes nouveaux.



Rendant à nouveau hommage à Durkheim
qui avait vu juste, Durkheim avait dit il y a deux façons de construire le lien
social : autour de l'association et autour de la solidarité. Je pense que le
temps de l'association est terminé, on doit entrer dans le temps de la
solidarité, c'est à dire la solidarité consiste à dire non pas « Nous
Allemands nous nous associons à la Grèce » mais « Nous Allemands
sommes solidaires de la Grèce car nous savons que si la Grèce s'effondre, à
terme, nous en subirons les conséquences ». Donc cette idée d'unité
fondamentale est une idée qui a été un peu snobée, abandonnée par les Européens
et maintenant ils se trouvent dans une situation de paralysie complète.





Est-ce que la période de décolonisation laisse encore des traces au niveau
des RI contemporaines ?



Ah totalement, totalement. Je dirais
d'abord parce que c'est un événement majeur des RI, qui a quand même fait
passer le monde de 51 Etats Souverains membres des Nations Unies en 1945 à 193
aujourd'hui mais surtout, circonstance très aggravante, c'est que cette
décolonisation a été complètement ratée et que l'échec de la décolonisation
pèse énormément sur les RI.



Elle a été ratée parce que la
décolonisation a conduit à copier le modèle étatique occidental dans les pays
qui accédaient à l'indépendance, alors que ce modèle n'était pas forcément
adapté, ce qui a provoqué une prolifération de failed States, et ces collapsed
States ont eu un effet effroyable sur les RI.



Deuxièmement parce que la
décolonisation aurait dû conduire à un enrichissement et en tous les cas à une
modification substantielle du multilatéralisme en créant de nouvelles
institutions capables de prendre en charge les défis nouveaux issus de la
décolonisation. Or, à part la création de la CNUCED
en 1964 et du PNUD en 1965, il y a eu très peu d'innovations sur le plan de la
gouvernance mondiale. Donc la gouvernance mondiale reste dominée par ce que
j'appelais tout à l'heure le club, c'est à dire les puissances du Nord et ceci
est très dysfonctionnel dans la gestion des crises contemporaines. Puis enfin
parce que les anciennes puissances coloniales sont amenées à trouver des formes
nouvelles de domination qui ont en quelques sorte compliqué le jeu
international. Donc effectivement la décolonisation c'est l'ordinaire des
crises que rencontre le système international aujourd'hui.





Question finale : quel autre souci vous inquiète dans les RI
contemporaines ?



J'ai trouvé que votre questionnement
était très pertinent parce qu'il permettait de toucher aux thèmes que je tiens
pour essentiels. Maintenant, si vous voulez, le grand problème qui moi
m'inquiète c'est le formidable décalage qu'il y a entre les analystes et les
acteurs. Je ne dis pas que les analystes ont tout compris, loin de là, mais je
crois que les analystes sont très conscients de ces transformations. Si vous
prenez les grands auteurs comme James Rosenau, Ned Lebow, comme Robert Keohane,
juste quelques-uns il y en aurait beaucoup d'autres, ils ont tous apporté une
pierre à la reconstruction de l'édifice des RI.



Moi ce qui me frappe, c'est l'autisme
des acteurs politiques, c'est à dire ils se croient encore à l'époque du
Congrès de Vienne et ça c'est source de tension absolument extraordinaire. Donc
tant que ce parfum de changement n'aura pas touché les acteurs politiques,
peut-être que Barack Obama était le premier à commencer à entrer dans ce jeu et
puis la parenthèse s'est refermée, tant donc qu'il n'y aura pas ce mouvement
vers la découverte d'un nouveau monde, peut-être aussi en intégrant dans notre
réflexion sur l'international des partenaires comme la Chine, ce n'est quand
même pas normal que cette Chine si puissante n'ait d'autre choix finalement que
de se rallier au paradigme et au modèle d'action propre à la diplomatie
occidentale, tant qu'on n'aura pas fait cet effort là et bien on sera encore
dans la négation de l'humain, et c'est ça le problème essentiel aujourd'hui,
c'est que nous n'arrivons pas à comprendre qu'au bout de tout ça il y a une
seule unité qui est l'être humain.



J'ai eu la chance de visiter 105 pays
et partout j'ai rencontré les mêmes hommes et les mêmes femmes, avec leurs
souffrances, avec leurs bonheurs, leurs malheurs, leurs joies, leurs peines,
leurs besoins qui étaient partout absolument identiques. Tant qu'on n'aura pas
compris cela, et bien je crois que l'on vivra dans un monde qui est en
contradiction totale avec ce qu'il est vraiment et essentiellement. On vivra dans
un monde d'artifice et donc dans un monde de violence.



Lire plus



·       Lire Badie's Printemps Arabe : un commencement (SER
Études 2011) ici
(pdf)

·       Lire Badie's Pour une sociologie historique de la
négotiation (préface de Négociations
internationales) ici
(pdf)



Normal
0




false
false
false

DA
X-NONE
X-NONE




























































































































































































































































































































































































































-->


/* Style Definitions */
table.MsoNormalTable
{mso-style-name:"Table Normal";
mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;
mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;
mso-style-noshow:yes;
mso-style-priority:99;
mso-style-parent:"";
mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt;
mso-para-margin:0cm;
mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt;
line-height:115%;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:11.0pt;
font-family:Arial;
color:black;
mso-ansi-language:DA;
mso-fareast-language:DA;}

      

Glatfelter, Charles H.; Oral History Collection To read the transcript and access the audio/video (if available) of this interview at the same time, first download the pdf of the transcript by clicking on the link at the top of this screen. The transcript will open in a separate window. Next, select the or option to the right of the screen to access the media player. Special Collections & College Archives Musselman Library Interview with Michael Birkner Interviewer: Rebecca Duffy Interview Date: November 22, 2013 Interview with Michael Birkner Rebecca Duffy, November 22, 2013 1 Rebecca Duffy: [Today is November 22, 2013. I am Rebecca Duffy and I will be interviewing Professor Michael Birkner in Special Collections at Gettysburg College's Musselman Library.] We will start with you as a student here, so that we can get some insight. I think that's really special that we have an alumnus [that is so accessible] from the 1970s. You graduated in 1972? Michael Birkner: Yes. Duffy: Did you start here in 1968 and go straight through the four years? Birkner: Yes, I did. Duffy: You were a History major. Did you have any other majors or minors? Birkner: Actually, I was a back-ended History major. I was a Political Science major for three years and I intended to go into political journalism. That was my interest. I was always a politics junkie, so it was a natural for me to be interested in that. If you know anything about American History from 1968 to 1972, you know it was a very tumultuous time. Being interested in history as it was being made was particularly attractive to me. But by the time I was finishing my junior year as a student I looked back and thought about what I had done in Political Science and what I still had to do and I wasn't impressed by the coherence of the Political Science major. Specifically, I also had been avoiding a particular faculty member who was terrible and who taught a required course in International Affairs. I thought about it and I said [to myself], "I don't want to take this person's course just for the sake of getting a major that I'm not even convinced is worth having. So I went over to see Dr. [Charles] Glatfelter. I said to him, "I realize I am a second semester junior, but I think I would rather major in history. Is that possible?" [Pause] I don't want to make myself out to be special, but the people in the History department knew me and I had taken courses in history because I had liked history. They [Norman Forness, George Fick, and Charles Glatfelter] pitched to me that I should switch majors and become a history major. The important thing was they said, "if you just take this and this and this, you have got your major." So I did. I had probably seven or eight courses in Political Science, but I didn't [think well enough of my 2 experience to] declare it a minor. I just left and became a History major and then wound up going on to graduate school. Duffy: What were some of the courses that you took in History while you were here? Birkner: Well, I won't go into all the details because that will bog you down, but I will say that the program in History at the time was Euro-centric. If you look at the catalogue you will see that there really was very little World History. You took courses on the western historical tradition, you took courses on the European and British history, and you took courses on American history. There was no Africanist in the department, there was no Latin Americanist, and there was no Middle Eastern person. We did have a person that did Asian history, but half of that person's courses were focused on American diplomatic history which was not unusual at that time. So, essentially outside of the West we actually had half of a person to do anything else in the world. It was a provincial kind of historical learning. I did take a course in Chinese history, but I cannot say I had a good grounding in anything more than the Western traditions. The other thing I can abstract for you about my experience is that I was again unusual in that my interests were American history, but I took more non-American history than American history. My attitude- and I think it was justifiable- was that if I went to graduate school in History, I would be doing almost all American history and why should I not have the opportunity now to get a little wider range. In retrospect now there are all kinds of ways I could have broadened my education in college [with]. I was not adventurous and the college wasn't particularly adventurous in its curriculum. When you think about it, the one smart thing I did was not do all of that American history when I was going to get [plenty of] it in graduate school. Duffy: That Professor that you had for Chinese history, was that Professor Stemen? Birkner: Yes, Roger Stemen. Duffy: He was in charge of anything East Asian, sometimes even Indian history, I think I noticed? 3 Birkner: He might have done that once and that was it. He wasn't really interested in Indian history. We had a woman named Janet Gemmill [whose maiden name was Powers], so [after her divorce] she is Janet Powers. She taught Indian Civilization, but for reasons I have never really understood- this is before my time as a faculty member -I think she and the History department were not on the same wavelength, so she didn't teach it through the History department, she taught it through IDS. Mr. Stemen was the Asianist. He came in 1961 and he was the first to teach that. Duffy: I noticed that. I also noticed that the courses at that time [during the 1960's primarily] were dual courses, such as 201 and 202. Were you required to take both of them if you took one? Birkner: No, but you are right, they were sequenced. I'm guessing a lot of that was because a good percentage of undergraduates in those days went on to social studies education. They probably wanted to fill out a card of having the 201, 202 of History. That wasn't anything that affected me as a student. That wasn't a requirement. [Pauses to collect thoughts] The only requirement where we had to go through both parts of the sequence were interdisciplinary courses called "Contemporary Civilization" and "Literary Foundations of Western Civilization." Duffy: What was required by the History department [when you were a student] was passing a few three hundred level courses, the Methods course and Senior Seminar, right? Birkner: Right. Duffy: So you completed all of those? Birkner: Absolutely. Duffy: Did you have Professor Glatfelter for Methods? Birkner: Absolutely, everybody took Methods with Dr. Glatfelter. Except for the semesters when he was on sabbatical, he was it. Duffy: What was that experience like? How would you have described it when you were in the class? 4 Birkner: Maybe, it was a lot like what you experience with me. However, Dr. Glatfelter was a very different personality than I am . He was very Germanic. He had been trained originally to be a high school social studies teacher. Now he was a very smart man and wound up getting a PhD from Johns Hopkins. You don't do that unless you have some brains. He was one of these people who went by categories--one, two, three- which is not the way I do things. His approach to teaching was not very exciting to me. Just to give you an example of the way he taught Methods, one-third of the course he lectured about the historiography of Western Civilization, the writing of the history of the West from Herodotus until the Progressive Era in the early 20th century. Each day he would come in for seventy-five minutes and lecture about Herodotus or Livy or Gibbon or Voltaire- who was a historian not a very good one, but a historian [none the less]- [hand motions and voice indicating droning on], Prescott and Parkman and Bancroft. Your first big paper in the course was to read three of these historians--one from the Ancient World, one from Early Modern Europe and one from the 18th or 191h century--and write a comparative [paper]. He did that every semester. I benefited from it, though I have not read those historians since. But [in general] this was dull. The second part of the course was more "Nuts and Bolts." That's where he talked about doing footnotes and bibliographies and reference books. Of course [this was] the pre-computer age so he would bring in a cart and show you reference books. Again, it wasn't too exciting. The third part of the course was the "Philosophy of History'' in which he would talk about a range of things from why we do history to the discourses of history. It was very conservative. As I may have said in class, we read one article about Oral History and he basically said, "I made you read this because it is possible this may be interesting, but it is also possible that it may just be a fad." We didn't do anything more with that. We did the same thing with Psychohistory; maybe we read an article on it. Now Psychohistory came and went really, it is not much today talked about. But he was not an adventurous person. So why is it that he is remembered? Because Dr. Glatfelter had extremely high standards and he challenged you to be the best that you could be. He was a very demanding task-master. 5 When you handed in a paper, he read every line and corrected every line. You got away with nothing. He was a person of tremendous integrity and he wanted you to be. That's what really affected me the most, to be honest with you. The specifics of what he was teaching didn't grab me much, but his ethos, that's what really grabbed me. I don't know what students think about me, but I would guess I am considered "old school" and that's okay, because you need to authentic. Dr. Glatfelter was authentic. And I like to think I am. Some students probably think it is good and some maybe think I am too hard [and demand too much work]. Again, I don't know what the word on the street is, but you've got to be what you are as long as you're nice and fair and all those things- some [professors] can be mean and that's not a good thing [chuckles], but I don't think I am that! [In the end] I think I took away [Dr. Glatfelter's] sensibility about doing history and that has always had an impact on me- [even] forty years on. If you talk to other graduates, I bet you would get similar responses. Duffy: That he was a challenging teacher, but certainly worth it in the end for [the experiences] you get out of it? Birkner: Yeah, sure. Duffy: More than [simply] as a historian? Birkner: [Thoughtful] Yeah, absolutely. [Pauses to collect thoughts] He and I were colleagues for a year when I was back in the late seventies teaching here. When he retired [in 1989], I took his job. We became close [friends] and for the last 24 years of his life- he died in February [2013]- we did a lot of things together. For [many] years I brought him into the Methods class to talk to the students about a specific project or brought the students down to Weidensalllobby to talk with him if they had questions about a particular topic. He was wonderful. Duffy: What was that like when you first came back here having Professor Glatfelter and I can't remember exactly who was still here then who had been here when you were a student­Birkner: Everyone 6 Duffy: Everyone? Birkner: Everybody. Duffy: [So then,] what was that department dynamic like when you joined, having your old professors [as colleagues]? Birkner: . As a student was I was very close with faculty, more close than I think [most] students are today. Just to give you an example, there was no Specialty Dining in those days, there was the Bullet Hole- [though] it was in a different part of the CUB- and there was a group of about 8-10 faculty that ate there every day and talked politics- remember, it's a very interesting time- and they talked campus business as well. They invited me to eat lunch with them. So, I ate lunch in the Bullet Hole every day with the faculty. Now, you say you already know a creepy amount of information about me, but one thing [is that] I belonged to a fraternity. The fraternity I belonged to only ate dinner together in our house; we didn't eat breakfast or lunch together. We were on our own for lunch. Most of my fraternity brothers after class went back to the house and ate lunch together; probably watched Jeopardy or something and just hung out. I never did. I always went to the Bullet Hole and ate lunch with the faculty. Secondly, I was the editor of the Gettysburgian. At the time newspapers were different then they are now. They were really newspapers as opposed to mostly opinion. [Pauses to collect thoughts] The paper [during my years in college] was well respected. So, faculty members wrote for it, faculty members called me up. I had a kind of elevated sense of myself. To answer your question, it wasn't a hard transition to come back in 1978 to teach because people had always treated me collegially as opposed to say you were simply a student. Duffy: As a subordinate71 Birkner: Yeah, well [Pauses to collect thoughts] I hope I don't treat you [quite] like that. We all have different roles to play. It was an easy transition is the short of it. 1 Intended to say something which more conveyed the mentor-student relationship 7 Duffy: What about the transition that we started to talk about before- when you took over the Methods class? What was that like? Did you see that you wanted to make a lot of changes? Did you make them right away? Birkner: That's a good question. Dr. Glatfelter was not a controlling person, but on the other hand he was a very "tracked" person. As I said there wasn't a lot of change [over time] . I was hired, in some measure, because [members of the History department] felt the Methods course was an important course and they felt that I would be the person who could make it matter in the future. When I came back, Dr. Glatfelter said [something like], "You do what you want with the Methods course, but here's the way I do it." The first year I tried to teach it along the track he laid out. I used some different books, but I basically had the same structure he had. I was bored teaching it! Teaching about Medieval historians and giving students bits and pieces about historians -I could see that nothing was going to stick with them. I just said [to myself], "I can't do this!" That's when I said to myself, "this course is going to need re-tooling." That's how you have more or less greater extent what you are experiencing [this semester in Methods]. Dr. Glatfelter was the one who had the three projects and I have three projects, but he never would have assigned an Oral History! Here's the other interesting thing, he didn't assign any manuscript, original material research because we didn't have an archive for the students to work in! We really couldn't do a lot of that. Dr. Glatfelter's laboratory was the Adams County Historical Society where he was the director. He never had the students [go there]. I was surprised about this because we could have done that. We had an archive [at the college]; it just wasn't a place where you could work. He could have assigned us to have stuff to work on and under controlled conditions we could have done it. He just never did it. The part that really surprised me was that here he is the director of the Adams County Historical Society, which has tons of great [material] to work on. I've used it many times in my Methods class- just not this semester because they have had some difficulties moving out of the old Schmucker building [and into a much smaller facility]. So, one of the things I said was that 8 were going to start doing this! What I did [was encourage the creation of a facility for storing a working with archival material on Gettysburg College's campus]. I had something to do with the fact that this [special collections research room] exists because [as department chair] I was able to get a very unusual bequest which had not originally been directed to Gettysburg College. I was able to convince Homer Rosenberger's executor [Attorney William Duck of Waynesboro, PA] that Gettysburg College would be the place to house the Rosenberger Collection, with the idea we would get his estate. The money we got from that estate allowed Robin Wagner, the library director, to hypothecate into other money which enabled them to build this room- which is an enormous asset to students of history, and not just in Methods. Plus we have all of these great internships etc. which we didn't have before that. So, [to go back for a second] in 1990-1991, which was my second year here, I revamped the course really along the lines of what you are taking now. Duffy: So has it not changed so much in the past few decades? What would you say has changed? Birkner: What has changed in part is that the discourses in history have grown increasingly focused on anthropology. The opportunity for students to do more intensive work in Special Collections has probably been the biggest change. They can do much more in Special Collections than they could when I first started teaching here. The idea is always to give students opportunity to work with the stuff of history and be historians rather than just write about [secondary works]. I'm a little off sync with some of my colleagues who are so emphatic that what students need to learn is historiography and what I think is what students need to learn is to feel confident about doing history and that means doing it, instead of writing about historians doing it. I want you to do it. Now, of course the two are not mutually exclusive. You should learn that history is an evolving discipline and there is always an on-going dialogue -that's of course important. But to me, for the Methods course, what's really important- if I can put it this way- is to get your hands dirty doing it, [for example] have that one-on-one experience doing an Oral History with a senior citizen; it will stick with you for a long time. 9 Duffy: Definitely. I think I have noticed that. I feel like I live in Special Collections sometimes! Birkner: And that's a great thing because it is your laboratory! You may have friends that are Environmental Science majors, they're working in a lab. Your lab is right here. Duffy: [Pauses] [So then,] If we could just go back one moment to when you were a student and there weren't as many opportunities [to research in-depth on campus]. I know the senior seminar was molded into a course throughout the sixties Uust before and during your time here as a student]. so I was wondering about your experience in the senior seminar and how you were able to do the research you needed to do [without the facilities here]? Birkner: That's a good question; I think it was only in the late 1960s that they developed the senior seminar more or less the way we know it. Until then, students had to take comprehensive exams and they also wrote a senior thesis, [but there was no senior seminar]. The problem with that program is number one: camps terrify students. A high percentage of the students were not capable of engaging them very effectively, which depressed the faculty. [Further], the quality of the senior theses was generally pretty low, in part because there was little faculty supervision. If you have say forty seniors who are majors and you've got the faculty you have, they just weren't [able to] give the time to the students on an independent study basis to do the senior thesis. So that is when they came up with the seminar notion. As far as being able to do the research- it was unusual for you to be able to spend time doing anything original. Today, more and more of our students [are doing original research]. I was talking to Lincoln Fitch the other day, he's a senior and he is doing his senior thesis on Reconstruction and he's going down to the Library of Congress and working with the papers there and he is making some interesting finds. We wouldn't have thought of that because nobody was encouraging us to do that. I wrote my senior thesis on Christian Humanism in England in the early 16th century. I read a lot of first-hand accounts, they were printed, but they were still primary sources. I read secondary sources about the Humanist movement, which is part of the Renaissance, as it affected life in England. 10 Duffy: So you feel that students now have a better opportunity to delve in deeper? Birkner: Yeah. The other thing that should be emphasized is that our faculty are more "teacher-scholars" or "scholar-teachers" than was the case in the sixties when their primary emphasis was on teaching. Again, you can't draw with too broad a brush because Dr. Glatfelter was always doing scholarship of a kind. He was very productive, but his focus tended to be narrow--on Adams or York counties or religions of York and maybe Pennsylvania. Few people in the department were pursuing active research agendas because they didn't have the same emphasis on scholarship and mentoring students as scholars as we have today. I think having a teaching faculty that is also a scholarly faculty is going to make for better mentors at the senior level or any level. Think about someone like David Wemer, who is a senior History major and just won a prize for the best paper by an undergraduate in the United States. [The prize was sponsored by the American Historical Association.] It was published in a student scholarly journal. What a great recognition for Gettysburg College. He is an exceedingly talented person, but having someone like Dr. Bowman advising him and mentoring him made it [possible]. I mentored three students [over the past several years] who were [George C. Marshall] Scholars. Each was invited down, at my nomination, to become an undergraduate fellow in Lexington, Virginia [under the auspices of] the George C. Marshall Foundation. Each of them did outstanding work and each was recognized for that work. By coincidence, I had lunch today with one of those students. He was a History major and now works as an archivist for the CIA and wanted to come back and talk to me about graduate school. That kind of mentoring I don't think would have happened forty years ago. [However,] I have a certain reputation in the field, I know people, I know what my students are doing and I can then recommend them. The sad thing with the Marshall Program is that they blew through all their money. So, after the program existed for four or five years they ran out of money and I can't recommend students to it anymore because it doesn't exist. The two other students who I recommended for it and got accepted, 11 one is now working on his PhD in Cold War History at Ohio State and the other one is doing a PhD in Early American History at William and Mary, so clearly they moved on and did good things. Duffy: So you would say that the faculty dynamic today- [a group made up of a dozen or so] individuals each scholars and, I would say talented, teachers is creating these opportunities for students? Birkner: I think it enhances and enriches the environment for our History students; hence, it gives them an extra boost toward having a valuable college experience. Dr. Glatfelter had the right standards and the right spirit. But I think that what we have today, is not only that among most of our faculty -I wouldn't say everyone does because Dr. Glatfelter was pretty much the top of the line in that- but they are committed on both the teaching and scholarly side and that's good modeling for students. When you are a senior taking a seminar you will be asked to attend a seminar session in which you will read a faculty member's paper in advance and then go in and hear that faculty member describe how he or she got into writing that paper and then you will be able to ask questions of that member about it. We do that every semester. That's a bit of modeling. You can see what the faculty member does and say to yourself, "Maybe that's how I can do it." That didn't exist forty years ago. We do a lot more stuff you would take for granted, but didn't exist then. Such as, Career Night, Grad School Night, bringing in alumni who are successful in the field of history to talk, the Justin DeWitt Lecture. How about two student journals? The Civil War Journal and The Gettysburg Journal of History again didn't exist forty or even, fifteen years ago, but they do now. That's how David [Wemer] got this national recognition, because he published his article in the History journal. [Earlier today] I was talking to Sam Cooper-Wall today about his thesis for me and I was saying how he really had potential to publish it or expand it as his master's thesis. "Don't forget," he said, "I published it in the Gettysburg Historical Journal." That's right, he did. That's the kind of thing that gives you value added. 12 Duffy: I guess my last question is just going back, once again in a more comparative way, you said the time that you were here was a very [tumultuous] time. Did the faculty use any of those current issues as teaching moments in the classroom? Birkner: Not really. I think one faculty member who taught American Cultural History picked up on environmental issues, which was one of the pieces of the puzzle in the late sixties. Earth Day started when I was college student. He tried to connect Post- Civil War environmentalism, Darwinism, with the new environmental ethic of the late sixties- early seventies. I thought that was good, but he was the only [one]. Professor Stemen, who taught Chinese history, was teaching at the very time that Nixon made his initiative to open doors to China, and he would mention it, but it wasn't integral to the teaching. We were aware of it. I think people made a definite effort not to politicize the classroom. It's not a good idea for teachers at any level to voice their ideas about politics to students. So, that didn't happen really. People were very focused on the subject matter. Duffy: I think that is about it for the questions that I have- Birkner: I think that the one piece of this you are not getting is the student side. You don't want to assume that everything is always [better each year]. I think, today, our students are more sophisticated in many ways about history. You are much more cosmopolitan and you are much more adventurous than our generation in many respects. Just think about that fact that students take courses in fields I never took courses in because they weren't even there, but nobody is afraid to take a course in Middle Eastern history or Australian history or African history. [Today's] students are interested. That's a very good sign. On the other side ofthe coin, I wouldn't disparage students from the late Sixties who were, like me, first generation college students who had a hunger for education and were willing to work hard . . , , There were a lot of people in that circumstance. So, the students were a little bit more aggressive for their education in the late sSxties. Now I will tell you also, that when I came back in the late Seventies the students were not what I remembered them being. They were very self-focused and 13 [pauses to collect thoughts] uninterested it seems to me in the same kinds of issues I had been interested in in college, so that was a little bit of a disappointment. Duffy: I read that I think in one of the oral histories with Professor Glatfelter. He had realized a shift around the mid-Seventies. [He noticed] students were changing what they wanted out of school and how they felt about school. So, I think he saw as well, a decline in the level of learning or [rather] interest in learning. Birkner: I think this is not just a Gettysburg story. Duffy: Right. Birkner: I think it would [have been the case] at you name the place. I remember when I taught my first class at the University of Virginia. This is almost hilarious in a way because I taught a course in [19]74 at the University of Virginia as a grad student. It was a seminar and we read a book on the Sixties. The kids were all like [Raises voice, indicates excitement], "What were the sixties like? What were the sixties like?" and I was thinking [Chuckling between words], "Whoa, whoa!" [To them] It was like "what was World War One like?" It was 1974 and I thought, "Whoa, how quickly the gestalt of the times changes." So, what Glatfelter noticed is certainly what I noticed. Now, particular students, of course, were terrific. They are wonderful and friends of mine now, but the mentality [gestalt] of the campus was very different. Just as an example, the fraternity that I was in had disappeared by the time I came back to teach because it was a more alternative, non-conformist fraternity [and there was no market for that at Gettysburg after 1975]. We didn't do hazing and hell week. We invited the faculty to our parties and they came. Duffy: [Laughs] Birkner: Seriously! It was kind of an admixture of fraternalism, but not the dopey stuff. Obviously, to each his own, but I never had a use for anything [like that]. I remember Dr. Glatfelter- he was not a funny man- but I remember one of the funniest things he ever said. I once said, "Charlie, I know when 14 you were a student at Gettysburg College they still had traditions during orientation where they would punish [underclass] students [for infractions of the rules]. They would cut men's hair off, make women wear side-boards over their front and back with their hometown and phone number on it." Duffy: [Laughs] Birkner: Oh yeah, absolutely! And I said to him, "What if you had ever been brought up by the Tribunal for some infraction when you were a first year student?" Without missing a beat he said to me, "I know exactly what would have happened. I would have packed up my suitcase and gone home because I wouldn't have put up with that nonsense for one second!" That was Charlie. I can't claim that I was as individualistic as he was. For all I know I would have accepted [hazing], but it was nice to find a home [in a fraternity] where it really wasn't practiced. But by the late seventies students weren't into that. They didn't want an alternative fraternity, they wanted a gung-ho fraternity experience. Again, that's okay. I would wish that a fraternity like the one I was in would exist again today because I think there is something to be learned from living in a house with people from different backgrounds [with] different values in some cases. Learning how to live together, learning how to keep a place up [is important]. I don't regret for one minute that I did that. I also had a [fine] experience in that I was a free agent to do what I wanted. Duffy: You got to go to lunch! Birkner: Yeah, I got to go to lunch and I got to eat dinner with my fraternity brothers and party with them and make those horrible road trips down to Wilson College. You did the things that college students do, but you also did it on a slightly different track. When I came back in the late eighties the college was in transition. It had become by then a more national institution, so students were coming from a larger swath of the country, which was a good thing. [It reflected] a more cosmopolitan view. [The population] was still very white, not as diverse as it is today, but moving in the right direction, I think. I would honestly say that your generation of students on the whole is a lot more fun to teach than 15 any generation I have taught before. Just take for example class yesterday on the "Cat Massacre." You are willing to buy into reading something challenging, thinking about it and then talking about it. To me that is learning. But that wasn't really the pedagogy [in the 1960s and 1970s] and when the transition was made a lot of students just wouldn't buy into it because they were [satisfied] being more passive. Learning should be active. It seems to me we have got that buy in from our majors and more generally, too. Hopefully, what you do in my class and your other history classes carries over into Poli Sci and the other courses you are taking, because again, why should it not? [From here we continue to talk for the next few minutes about the intersections between disciplines in the case of myself and my partner Ryan, as well as the possibilities of support from the government for public history and the National Park Service]. 16

Issue 34.5 of the Review for Religious, 1975. ; Revtew ]or Rehgtous ts edited by faculty members of the School of DIvlmty of St Louts University, the edttorlal ol~ces bemg located at 612 Humboldt Buddmg, 539 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. Published bimonthly and copy-right (~) 1975 by Review [or Religious. Composed, printed, and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. S!ngle copies: $1.75. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $6.00 a year; $11.00 for two years; other countries, $7.00 a year, $13.00 for two years (for airmail delivery, add $5.00 per year). Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order payable to Review ]or Religious in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming .to represent Review ]or Religious. Change of address requests should include former ad~ciress. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Joseph F. Galicn, S.J. Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor September 1975 Volume 34 Number 5 Renewals, new subscriptions, and changes of address should be sent to Review for Religious; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Correspondence with the editor and the associate editor together with manuscripts and books for review should be sent to Review for Religious; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsyl-vania 19131. / ;" ~: :°~Vith these ,words Po o ~t only for Jesmts,~but-~f6r all~rehg~ous;~ )s wh6, .in ~varyingways, ~dentff, y:.o. 671 A Survey of the Thirty-second General Congregation John R. Sheets, S.J. Fr. Sheets, chairman of the theology department of Creighton University and director of its new Masters Degree in Christian Spirituality program, was an elected delegate of his province (Wisconsin) at the 32nd General Congregation. He resides at Creighton University; 2500 Califor-nia St.; Omaha, NB 68178. The Thirty-second General Congregation of the Society of Jesus began on December 2, 1974. It finished its work on March 7, 1975. The Holy See authorized the promulgation of its decrees on May 2, 1975. In this article I will attempt to set down in an intelligible way a description of what went on during those ninety-six days, especially for (hose who are not Jesuits but who are in-terested in the congregation. Having gone over once again both the official documents and the Acta of the congregation, and having tried to recapture.my own experience over those days, I feel keenly the limitations of what follows. In the first place, it is difficult to give a survey of the vast amount of material covered by the various commissions;-secondly, it is hard to detail my own ex-perience without writing an autobiography; thirdly, it would take someone with both a sense of historical detail and a journalistic flair to present the in-terplay that took place among the various identifiable groups within the con-gregation, and also what took place between the Vatican and the congregation. In spite of these reservations, I hope that the observations that follow might provide some insight into what happened, and at the same time provide a counterweight to impressions given to the public through the general press. For me personally the congregation was the peak experience of my life. I am still trying to sort out the reasons for this. There is the obvious fact of hav-ing been part of a decision-making body whose decrees could have momentous importance for the Societ), of Jesus and for the Church at a very critical mo- A Survey of the Thirty-Second General Congregation / 673 ment in history. Again there was the experience of being "companions in the Lord" with two hundred and thirty-six other Jesuits from all over the world, united in the same Ignatian vision, sharing a common purpose, praying and working together to formulate with the help of the Holy Spirit responses to what the Church and the world ask of the Society today. The "honeymoon experience" of the first days gave way, as the weeks went on, to the .experience of fatigue, the perplexities of the search for the proper wording, the experience of working on disparate problems at the same time, without any clear point of convergence. Added to these was the experience of the interaction between the Vatican and the congregation which brought with it great anguish. However, it was also perhaps the experience that changed the congregation from a group of planners relying much on our own wisdom into something approximating an instrument of the Holy Spirit. The whole experience of the congregation in many ways paralleled what a person goes through in making the Spiritual Exercises, where one is subject to the movement of different spirits. On the one hand, it was the occasion of the greatest consolation; on the other, 1 have never in my life experienced such heaviness of heart. There were moments when one could almost feel the presence of the Holy Spirit, particularly at the concelebrated liturgies where one was drawn into the mystery of the communio jesuitarum, both the living and the dead, ~hrough our sharing in the Eucharist. Certainly the con-celebrated Mass, celebrated on the opening day of the congregatiofi in the Gesu, a church hallowed by the memories of Ignatius, Xavier and the early history of the Society, with seven hundred Jesuits participating, was one such moving experience. But if there were consolations, there were also periods of desolation, the worst desolation I have ever experienced. These came from the pall of uncer-tainty cast over the congregation from the communications of the Holy Father through Cardinal Villot in reference to the way the congregation had proceeded on a particular point concerning the Fourth Vow in the Society. This was also the occasion for the Holy Father to remark with pain that he detected from the Acta of the congregation attitudes among the delegates which were at variance with the kind of disposition a Jesuit should have toward the Pope. To be frank, however, it was not so much the interventions of the Holy Father that depressed me. In fact, as events would show, he was under the im-pression that we had received a specific communication on the subject that he had given to one of the delegates to be transmitted to us. But because of a mis-understanding the delegate did not in fact communicate it, and the congrega-tion learned about it only after we had taken a step which seemed to con-travene directly the explicit instruction of the Holy Father. To me the tone of his and Cardinal Villot's letter, while severe, was comprehensible in the light of this misunderstanding on the communication of their earlier message. What was far more upsetting was the sudden change in the mental climate of the congregation. Somewhere Kierkegaard mentions that the sudden is the 1574 / Review for, Religious, Volume 34, 1975/5 category of the demonic. In the course of only minutes, the demon of rumor, suspicion and recrimination was let loose. Suddenly it all fitted into a kind of master plot to discredit Fr. Arrupe, bring about his resignation, and bring to nothing the efforts of the congregation. No one knew who the enemies were, but some gave the impression that there was one hiding behind every column in the Vatican. Among the memories which will always be with me are the occasions when I used to walk in St. Peter's Square at night, when it was deserted, except for a police car and a few pa~sers-by. The majestic beauty of the facade of St. Peter's, bathed by the light of the moon, the beauty of the fountains flashing in the lights, the Vatican apartments with a light here and there, formed a setting of peace which seemed to overflow into me, particularly when events occurred which plunged the congregation into gloom. Looking back over those difficult periods I am certain that if it were not for the example and leadership of Fr. Arrupe we would have lost courage. He transmitted to us both by word and example a sense of the working of God's providence and the life-through-death process in which we were engaged. We were faced with the humbling and humiliating fact that we experts who were supposed to discern the signs of the times could not discern a sign that was much closer to us. In many ways the misunderstandings did not "have to be," when one looks at them from a human point of view. The reports from the press about con-frontation, maneuver and counter-maneuver were the product of journalistic imagination. The sad fact is that pain was caused by people who were trying their utmost to act with responsibility to the Holy Father and to the Society. But I have probably got ahead of myself. All I wanted to do in these in-troductory remarks was to point out that for me personally the experience of those three months led by the diverse paths of joy and anguish to a deeper ex-perience of the ways of God, that "If Yahweh does not build the house, in vain the masons toil." The Procedure Followed in the Business of the Congregation In preparation for this congregation there had been four years of highly organized participation on the level of the local communities and the provinces. The extent of this participation varied. In general, however, it had a beneficial result in creating the awareness that this congregation would grow out of the discernment that took place on the local level rather than work from the top down. Perhaps some might consider that this was a waste of time and money when we measure the results of those years of preparation, and the little impact that it had directly on the congregation. However, the minimal result of this preparation was that at least we did not come into the work of the congregation cold, but had some awareness of the problems that confront us, as there were seen by a large segment of the Society. For those who are not familiar with the structure of the Society of Jesus, a few words of explanation may be helpful. In the Society of Jesus the supreme A Survey of the Thirty-Second General Congregation / 675 authority is vested in the General Congregation. It does not meet at regular in-tervals, but only on two occasions, either to elect a new superior general, or to face a particular state of affairs which can be handled only by the highest authority of the Society. Of the thirty-two congregations that have met in the four hundred and thirty-five years of the Society's history, all except seven have been called to elect a new superior general. When, therefore, in 1970 Fr. Arrupe decided to call a General Congregation to convene after appropriate preparation, he felt that the state of the Society needed to be reviewed. It was an opportune time, since ten years would have elapsed since Vatican II and our last congregation. Delegates to a General Congregation are basically of two kinds: the provincial superiors, who attend by right of office, who make up ap-proximately one-third of the membership of a congregation and the other two-thirds who are elected. The only delegates who were unable to attend the 32nd General Congregation were a few from behind the Iron Curtain. Their unoc-cupied desks remained an ever-present symbol to the assembly of the oppres-sion of the Church in various areas. In spite of these absences, there were two hundred thirty-six delegates present. In the Society of Jesus the agenda is made up after the congregation con-venes. It is based mainly on the postulates (requests) submitted either from in-dividual Jesuits or provinces. Contrary to what one might suspect, there is probably no more democratic legislative group than is to be found in the General Congregation. Any Jesuit can send in postulates either through his province or directly, as an individual to the General Congregation. All of these are considered on their merits independently of their source. Over one thousand postulates were submitted. After a preliminary analysis, it was seen that they could be organized according to ten categories. Ten commissions were set up roughly corresponding to these ten categories. Initially the commissions had a membership of about twenty-five each, com-posed of representatives from different parts of the Society. Later, for the sake of efficiency in composing the documents emerging from the commissions, the number was reduced to four or five. The amount of work that went into the final draft of the documents was enormous. The work of the commission would be submitted to the whole assembly, receive revisions (or even be re-jected), be returned to the commission; then again be submitted to the assembly, with a repetition of the same procedm:e, until the assembly was satisfied with it. The whole assembly convened in a large hall that had been especially renovated for the congregation. Electronic equipment was installed to provide simultaneous translation. Voting was done by means of a small switch at each desk. In the front of the hall in full view of all the delegates was a large elec-tronic board, with indicator lights arranged accordihg to the seating plan in the hail. This board registered the votes with a green light if affirmative or a red, if negative. At the top of the board was a place where the total affirmative and negative vote would register immediately after the vote was taken. All ~'~' ~ ~.~. 676;~ R~i~.w for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/5 voting~'~bhe exception," was public. The exception came at the request of the congregatiori ~hen it came to vote on the question of grades in the Society. Doubtless this pr0ce.dure was intended to provide the general with the oppor-tunity to vote in a way that would not compromise him in whatever future ac-tions he would have to take.as a result of the vote. The Main Themes Seventeen documents issued from the congregation, most of them originating from the ten commissions which had been established. Other documents came from special commissions appointed as the need arose. Though the documents differ in content, some common themes run throughout. Perhaps the main theme reflected in the documents is that of mission. Related to this is a reawakened awareness of the Society as a whole, of which the local communities are part. The Society, while it exists also for the sanc-tification of its members, takes its special meaning from its apostolic orienta-tion. This apostolic orientation is specified by its relationship to the Holy See, particularly through the Fourth Vow, and in its service to the Church through the promotion and defense of the faith. A characteristic of this apostolic orienta-tion is adaptability to the needs of particular times and places. In our day this involves an overriding concern to overcome the injustices which oppress so many millions of people. However, in all of its apostolic work, the goal and the means it uses are to be consistent with the tradition of the Society as set forth in its Formula of the Institute which sets forth its fundamental pontifical law. This ties in with the identity of the Society, a theme that is both the subject of one particular document and one that runs through all of the others as well. The Society is a priestly, apostolic body, bound to the Holy See in a special way for the defense and promotion of the faith. The sense of mission involves not only working with those who are op-pressed but it also involves becoming identified with them as far as this is possible. Our poverty, therefore, which has its juridical as well as evangelical aspects, takes on a particular experiential mode in so far as, by it, we can iden-tify with the poor. The decree that has to do with union of hearts and minds is also intimately related to the nature of the Society as an apostolic body. Ignatius clearly saw that the Society's apostolate depended first of all on the union of the members with God, and then derivatively on their union with one another. One theme which is conspicuous is that of repentence. The Society acknowledges that it has failed in recent years to live up to those characteristics which were suppose to distinguish it, such as obedience, loyalty to the Holy See, fidelity tO the principles of the religious life. The State of the Society One of the commissions set up early in the order of business was the one charged to examine the state of the Society. Its purpose was to form some A Survey of the Thirty-Second General Congregation / 677 kind of an evaluation of the condition of the Jesuit order at this point in its history, assessing both its weaknesses and its strengths. To provide this com-mission with input, the delegates met in small groups over a period of several days. These small groups were of two kinds: what were called "assistancy groups" (for example, all of the American Jesuits belong to one "assistancy," the French to another, etc.), and "language groups," composed of people from different countries who had some facility in their own and other languages (German-English, French-English, Spanish-French, etc.) These groups dis-cussed the state of the Society in reference to key points such as formation of Jesuits, religious observance, the apostolate. These sessions broadened the practical knowledge each of us had of the Society and helped to create among us an awareness of community. They were also informative, first of all in bringing us to realize that many of the problems were common, with varying degrees of acuteness, while others were peculiar to a particular section of the Society. A criticism which many of us in the western world resonated with came from one of the German provincials in my group when he said that the image that the Society in Germany gives is that of B~rgerlichkeit, which in English connotes a comfortable, gentlemanly, middle-class existence. On the other hand, the situation of the Jesuits from behind the Iron Cur-tain, some of whom were also in my language group, has spared them some of the enervating effects of secularization. For one reason, their apostolate, where they are able to exercise it, is mostly pastoral work; secondly, their precarious existence serves to keep their faith at a high level of vitality. The delegates from the Third World countries brought other emphases. From the Spanish speaking countries there was a strong orientation toward social change, bringing with it problems of political involvement and the degree to which such involvement could subscribe to an ideology which often had Marxist overtones. In other regions, such as Africa, Indonesia and the Far East, one of the main problems is "inculturation," embodying the faith and the spirit of the Society in forms peculiar to their own cultures. As part of this evaluation on the state of the Society, Fr. General himself gave a picture of the way he sees the Society at the present, as a body which is very much alive, but with certain illnesses. He also gave a detailed description of his own relationship with the Holy See and the other officials in the Vatican, providing afterwards an opportunity for the delegates to question or discuss any of the points he had brought up. The document on the state of the Society which came out as a result of all this exchange is not one of the papers published to the Society. It was intended only for the delegates and their work in the congregation itself. However, the document is not in fact that useful. Its main value was in providing the oppor-tunity for the delegates to familiarize,themselves with the state of the Society through their live exchanges with one another. A document of this kind by its nature remains general, and gives little sense of the extent and import of either the positive or negative points. 671~ / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/5 The Work of the Commissions As was mentioned above, ten commissions were formed, more or less along the lines of the categories of material received in the postulates. While a few others later came into being and some of the original ones were changed, these ten commissions formed pretty much the working base of the Congrega-tion. Risking over-simplification, they could be divided into those which looked mainly inward, for example, about our "grades," the Fourth Vow, for-mation, final incorporation into the Society (final vows), central government, the constitution of provincial and general congregations; those which looked outward, namely, the mission of the Society today, inculturation, the service of the Society to the Church; and finally those which look both inward and outward, for example, on union of hearts, the Jesuit today. Some comments on a few of the documents might contribute to a better understanding of them. 1. The Mission of the Society Today The decree which took up the lion's share of the time, and which provided the platform for most of the rhetoric was the one that dealt with the mission of the Society today. The very nature of the topic explains why it took so long to come up with a satisfactory formulation. It involves an articulation that had to bring together the old and the new: fidelity to the essentials of the Society's apostolic nature, and coming to grips with the needs of today. While such a formulation has its own difficulties, the problem was exacer-bated by an initially one-sided approach and by the impression that some gave of using language more appropriate to political parties than to a religious group attempting to clarify its mission. The initial approach was largely horizontal, too much concentrated on the socio-economic aspects, with too lit-tle of the priestly. In the effort to make the congregation conscious of the urgency of these problems there was a tendency to absolutize what was in fact only one aspect of the Society's apostolate. One of the observations offered by Cardinal Villot in the letter in which he com-municated the Pope's authorization to promulgate the work of the congregation pertains to this decree. He stresses an important point, which is already present in the decree, but which deserves emphasis, namely, that the total work of evangelization has a comprehen-sion that cannot be reduced to working for social justice, and secondly that there is a priestly way of working for social justice that is distinct from the proper role of the laity. No one can judge from the final document how much work went into it. If one were tothink of a carpenter shop filled with shavings, and one tiny cabinet to show for the work, the comparison would be apt. The final decree, though somewhat diffuse, manages to relate the fundamental apostolic orientation of the Jesuit life as a priestly order to the promotion of faith which in the real-life situation is inseparable from the promotion of justice. 2. Poverty The. subject of poverty has continued to bedevil our recent congregations. A Survey of the Thirty-Second General Congregation ] 679 As everyone knows, there are two main aspects to what is called religious poverty: the juridical and the evangelicalwor the personal appropriation of the values of evangelical poverty. The decree on poverty, probably the most im-portant document to come out of the congregation, has two parts, the first be-ing more inspirational and exhortatory, while the second is juridical, setting down a basic reform in the structures of our institutional practice of poverty. It is not possible to enter into the technicalities of the juridical part of the decree since it presupposes some knowledge of the structure of the Society. Suffice it to say that the decree formulates what is, to my mind, a creative way of realizing for our own times the Ignatian ideal of poverty, taking into con-sideration the different socio-economic conditions of the twentieth and six-teenth centuries. On the personal side, frugality, the sense of being part of the kenotic mystery of Christ, dependence on the community, and identification with the poor are stressed. in his letter, Cardinal Villot makes two points concerning this decree. After commenting on the fact that the Holy Father was aware of the immense amount of work that had gone into this decree, which attempts to relate the traditional practice of poverty in the Society to the needs of our times, he says that considering the newness of the approach, it would be better to promulgate the decree ad experimentum, to be reviewed in the next General Congregation. He also cautions that the decree should not jeopardize the Society's traditional approach to gratuity of ministries. 3. Grades and the Fourth Vow No other subject discussed by the congregation received as much attention from the press as that of our "grades" and the Fourth Vow. As I remarked above, the delegates had proceeded in a spirit of obedience to the Holy Father's wishes, but in the spirit of Ignatian obedience which allows represen-tation of one's case to the superior, with full openness, however, to the final decision of the superior. But, as I mentioned above, the delegates were not aware of an important communication from the Holy Father which he had given to one of the officials manifesting his mind clearly on the topic. We were made aware of this special communication only after we had proceeded in good faith to take up the question, and to give an "indicative" votewone that is not definitive, but from which it is possible to infer the mind of the delegates. The indicative vote was overwhelmingly in favor of abolishing grades. One can imagine the consternation of the Holy Father when he read of the results of this in the Acta, a copy of which he received regularly, especially when he learned that we had not been given his specific directive on this matter which had been communicated to one of the officials of the congregation. This unfortunate series of events precipitated a strong response from the Vatican. First there was a letter from Cardinal Villot in the name of the Holy Father expressing his consternation at the proceedings. Later there was a letter from the Holy Father himself, tin which he expressed his wonderment, pain, disappointment. What the delegates found particularly difficult to understand in Cardinal Viilot's letter was the strong language used about the failure of Fr. Arrupe to exercise the proper kind of leadership that could have headed off this series of unfortunate events. I~1~0 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/5 While the delegates were still reeling from this unexpected turn of events, they learned of the directive that had been given by Cardinal Villot to one of the officials to be given to the congregation. The official explained before the whole congregation that he had not understood that he was supposed to transmit this directive to the delegates in any official way. This was a costly mistake. Yet in some ways I think it was a felix culpa because of the benefits which came out of it, as I shall comment below. At this point I should say something about the meaning of the grades and the Fourth Vow for those unfamiliar with the Society's structure and legisla-tion. When the idea of the Society was evolving in the mind and experience of Ignatius, one of the features that emerged was a conception of having membership in the Society on different levels, or "grades." For those with their final vows, there were to be three levels or grades. First of all, there are the "solemnly professed," with solemn vows of poverty, chastity, obedience, and a Fourth Vow of special obedience to the Holy Father in regard to mis-sions, that is, apostolic commissions. In the past one hundred years about 40% of Jesuit priests have belonged to this grade. In the mind of Ignatius the professed were supposed to exemplify to a special degree what he looked for in every Jesuit, proficiency in learning, a high degree of virtue, mobility, a life supported only by free-will offerings, exemplifying in their lives a similar relationship to the Vicar of Christ that the disciples showed toward Christ Himself. In addition, key positions in government were reserved to the professed, such as the office of provincial. Again, only the professed could take part in a General Congregation. In the second place, there were priests whose final vows were simple, not solemn. Without going into detail on the differences between solemn and sim-ple vows, it is sufficient to remark here that for one thing they differ accord-ing to the seriousness of the reasons needed for dispensation. This grade is that of "spiritual coadjutor." Members of this grade do not take the vow of special obedience to the Holy Father. In the third place, there are "temporal coadjutors" or brothers. Their final vows are also simple vows of poverty, chast.ity, and obedience. They have the same apostolic purpose as the priests, but have a different way of contributing to the realization of it. The grades are a feature that are peculiar to the Society. As one would sur-mise, the distinction has not been an unmixed blessing in the history of the Society. Though Ignatius never conceived of a Society which would have privileged and unprivileged castes, human nature being what it is, the results were predictable. Since human nature associates power with authority, the professed came to be considered as a kind of first-class type of Jesuit, and the non-professed as second-class. In recent years there has been much historical research on the origin of the ~grades. Also there has been considerable discussion whether the distinction of ~the grades was inextricably tied up with the vision of St. Ignatius, or whether it was something that with the change of times no longer served a purpose. The A Survey of the Thirty-Second General Congregation Thirty-first General Congregation did not face the question head-on. It con-tented itself with broadening the norms by which a person could be admitted to profession. It also transmitted the final solution of the problem to the Thirty-second General Congregation. The intervention of the Holy Father did not directly concern grades. He limited himself to the question of the Fourth Vow, which he said could not be extended to non-priests. This intimates that the Holy Father was concerned not simply about a juridical division in the Society which could be changed by another law, but about a theological question concerning the relationship between the priestly identity of those who take the Fourth Vow and the mis-sions which are the direct object of the vow. Again (I am speculating) the intervention of the Holy Father might be a healthy reminder in this age of blurring all distinctions for the sake of dubious notions of equality, that differentiation in functions does not necessarily mean division. Reserving the Fourth Vow to priests helps to keep the priestly focus of the apostolic work of the Society which has characterized it from the begin-ning. This need not create first- and second-class citizens, but it could engender an awareness that there are different gifts within the same body by which the same goal is realized. 4. The Union of Hearts A commission without a name was set up as a kind of catchall to handle four topics that on the surface had little unity: the question of union and pluralism, communal discernment, religious life, and community life. Since I was a member of this commission from beginning to end, I feel more in touch with it than with the other commissions. It was a kind of a "Benjamin" com-mission compared with those set up to handle the "important" topics like mis-sion, grades, poverty, etc. Ironically, Benjamin was suddenly given an importance late in the con-gregation. The Holy Father in his intervention had commented on the fact that he had heard a lot about mission and justice, but little about renewal of the religious life, even though we had already been at it for two months. So all of a sudden the pressure was on to come up with something significant along those lines. The final document on union of hearts is a contemporary commentary, on Chapter One of Part VIII of our Constitutions, "Aids Toward the Uniori of Hearts." Under this heading the commission found a focus which could unite the various topics given to it. Much effort was spent in an attempt to formulate a clear statement on the subject of union and pluralism. Many of the postulates asked for such a state-ment, some of them stressing the harm coming from internal divisions, others emphasizing the need for a "healthy pluralism." Eventually the commission decided that a theoretical statement would not be helpful. Instead it for-mulated, along with principles on which union of hearts is based, certain prac-tical directives on prayer, community life, sacraments, and communal discern-ment. 682 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/5 The subject of communal discernment received a lot of discussion. Some wanted to turn it into a kind of Aladdin's lamp which could call forth some kind of a jinni. Others were more skeptical over the possibility of univer-salizing the practicableness of such a process. The final statement in the docu-ment attempts to locate communal discernment within the spectrum of various kinds of spiritual exchange within a community, not exaggerating its role, but on the other hand recognizing the value that it has when the right dispositions and circumstances are present. Incidentally about midway through the congregation, an ad hoc commis-sion was also established to see whether the congregation itself could not carry on its work through a method of communal discernment. After a couple of meetings, it dissolved, because it felt that proceeding according to a formal method of communal discernment was impractical for the congregation because of the large numbers involved and the wide range of subjects on the agenda. 5. The Jesuit Today In the light of the diversity that has appeared in Jesuit life over the past ten years, it was felt necessary to have a statement which would describe the meaning of being Jesuit today. The congregation was presented with five different papers, each of which approached the subject of Jesuit identity from different points of view. They opted for the one which now appears among the official decrees. The decree relates Jesuit identity today in a very simple way to our Igna-tian tradition, to our apostolic mission, and to the source, center, and goal of Jesuit life, which is the imitation of Christ. The Holy See and the General Congregation We have already commented on the intervention of the Holy See in regard to the subject of extending the Fourth Vow to non-priests. However, this is only an application of something which is much broader. The interest of the Holy See in this congregation is unparalleled in the whole history of the Society. Perhaps this comes from the fact that Pope Paul had a keen sense of its importance for the Society and for the Church itself. I have just finished once again going over the papal documents, beginning with the letter written to Fr. Arrupe on September 15, 1973, which the Holy Father wrote after Fr. General had announced the convening of the General Congregation, and concluding with the covering letter which was added to the approbation of the decrees. There is one theme running through all of these communications: the necessity of being faithful to the distinctive nature of the Society as it is expressed in the Formula of the Institute, a distinctiveness which has proved its fruitfulness over hundreds of years of experience. Specifically, the Society is described time and time again as a priestly apostolic order, with a special bond of obedience to the Holy See. There is, to be sure, a stress on the need to adapt to the needs of our times, but such adap- A Survey of the Thirty-Second General Congregation I 683 tation must always maintain the essentials as these are to be found in the For-mula. 1 Pope Paul wrote of his concern for the Society not only as the Vicar of Christ who has responsibility for the whole Church, but in terms which, unless I am mistaken, are unprecedented in the history of this relationship between the Society and the Holy See. He speaks of himself as the one who has the chief responsibility for the preservation of the Formula of the Institute, "supremus 'Formulae Instituti' fideiussor," and the chief protector and preserver of the Formula, "Formulae Instituti supremus tutor ac custos." It would not be true to say that all of the delegates responded with un-qualified enthusiasm to the interventions of the Holy Father. Though all recognized his right in abstracto to intervene, a~nd the corresponding attitude of obedience to which we were obliged and, which all gave without contesta-tion, nevertheless when the interventions came in this particular way, with these particular words and in this particular timing, there were signs of ruffled feelings. In case anyone needed reminding, we learned in the process that the delegates as a whole, while good and responsible men, are not yet ready for canonization. However, we did see in an exemplary way the incarnation of Jesuit obedience in at least one person, Fr. Arrupe. This was not something he did just "to give good example." His whole life has been so totalized by his faith that even his perceptions pick up the reality beneath the appearance. He senses the presence of the Vicar of Christ beneath the appearance of Pope Paul. The concern of the Holy Father shown in so many ways over the past few years and in a special way through his vigilance over the activities of the con-gregation are to my way of thinking a special grace for the Society. In a way that we never planned on, the interventions of the Holy Father brought us to a level of faith we would not have reached by ourselves. It also brought us to a realization that the Society is a servant of the Church. In some small way the history of this congregation parallels the description of Peter's death, about whom our Lord said, "You will stretch out your hands, and somebody else will put a belt round you and take you where you would rather not go" (Jn 21:18). Father Arrupe I have already mentioned that if it were not for Fr. Arrupe's example and leadership the congregation would have capsized under the difficulties it ran into. He constantly called us to a vision we needed in order to see what was happening from a supernatural point of view, and in order to avoid the traps of tNot many Jesuits are aware either of the content or the importance of the Formula of the Institute. Yet, even more than the Constitutions, it is the basic rule or fundamental code of legisla-tion in the Society. It contains the results of the deliberations of Ignatius and his companions in 1539 which provided the first sketch of the Institute of the Society of Jesus. It was first approved by Paul Iil in 1540, then again by Julius 111 in 1550 in a slightly revised form. 684 / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/5 self-pity or recrimination that were only too present. Like one of th~ prophets, he reminded us to see what was happening as coming from the hand of God, and to use it for our own purification and conversion. In a talk given to the delegates on the second day of the congregation, he spoke of the answer that we had to give to the needs of our times. It should be the foolishness of the cross by which Christ redeemed the world, which is the wisdom of God. "In the absolute foolishness of the Cross, the emptying of all things, we find the key to the ultimate solution to the problems of today." In a way we did not foresee, those words were prophetic. Again, he exercised his leadership by leaving the congregation free to follow the paths where its deliberations would take it. In its authority, the General Congregation is superior to the general. Fr. Arrupe always acted with full awareness of this fact. On occasion he would let the delegates know how he felt about certain things, not to pressure them, but in order to make this part of the input of their deliberations. The congregation showed its appreciation of his leadership over the past ten year,s in many ways. There are few who have had to pilot a ship through such a stormy period. The burden has not been easy. But there is always evi-dent in him the same buoyancy and infectious joy that somehow puts him in touch with the Stillpoint that is beyond, above, beneath the storm. Yet, while realizing his outstanding qualities, the delegates did not apotheosize Fr. Arrupe. They realized that with all of his gifts there were also limitations. In fact, the decree which set up a council for the general was framed mainly to supply the kind of help which might balance out the one-sidedness of some of his gifts. Differences Between This Congregation and the Previous Ones The Thirty-second (2ongregati0n had many characteristics which made it very different from any preceding General Congregation. Some of the more important ones might be the following. As was mentioned above, there was a four-year period of preparation for this congregation which was unprecedented. Similarly a few months before the actual opening day a special preparatory commission met to organize the material. This was the first General Congregation where, from the start, traditional rules of secrecy were lifted, except for the prohibition against making public either the names of delegates who spoke on the different questions, or the tally of the votes. Five Jesuit journalists were given free access to the meetings. They published a report about every week that kept the Society informed of the progress of affairs. In this Congregation for the first time the voices of the Third World were not only heard in larger numbers, but they showed a vitality that added zest to the meetings. However, even among these voices there were different accents. All of them were keenly aware of the injustices which oppress their peoples by reason of the exploitation of the capitalistic countries. However, the Spanish- A Survey of the Thirty-Second General Congregation / 685 speaking delegates tended to stress political and social involvement; the Africans continually reminded us of the need for the sense of the transcendent, the specifically God-and-Christ-centered nature of our apostolate; and those from the Far East, while keeping these same perspectives, also stressed the need for approaches that were directed both toward personal conversion and change of the structures. No other congregation has met at a period when there has been such a crisis in vocations. Over the past ten years, the Society has diminished from about 36,000 to 30,000 members. While in some places the number of novices has begun to pick up again, the overall picture remains dim. In 1965 there were 1902 novices compared to 705 in 1974. In the United States there are about 200 novices, showing a slight increase over the past few years. In some coun-tries, however, the picture is dismal. Spain, for example, had 269 novices in 1965. In 1974 it had only 30. Germany had 114 in 1965. At present it has about 30. Similar figures could be given for France, Belgium, Holland, Italy. When one compares the number of scholastics presently in their training with the number of priests engaged in apostolic work, there is only one scholastic for every five priests. This will seriously change the scope of our apostolic work over the next fifty years. Another unique factor was the everpresent concern of the Holy See in regard to the preparation for the congregation, the things taken up, and the final results, as I have mentioned above. The theme was repeated over and over again: be faithful to yourselves, especially to your identity as it is ex-pressed in your Formula of the Institute. The only specific feature which was singled out in the expressions of this concern was fidelity to the lgnatian idea of the Fourth Vow, both positively in the fact that it should be a vital factor in the life of the Society, and negatively in that it should not be extended to non-priests. Again, the fact of asking the congregation to submit its decrees to the Holy See for its approval before they were promulgated was unprecedented. The approbation was given with, in some instances, a few qualifications. Another characteristic which distinguishes this congregation from begin-ning to end and is evident in the decrees is thee theme of repentance. There is a mea culpa, mea maxima culpa evident in the Introductory Decree, the Decree on Mission, on The Jesuit Today, as well as in others. The Society is painfully conscious of its failings over the past ten years. Particularly in contrast to the Thirty-first Congregation, with its stress on freedom, subsidiarity and conscience, this one stressed the complementary features of the limits of pluralism, the need for norms that are applicable for Jesuit life as a whole, the responsibility of superiors for a greater firmness in governing, the importance of the manifestation of conscience both for the spiritual direction of the individual, and the good of the apostolate, the value of communal discernment when the proper conditions are realized. This congregation, unlike others, had a unifying theme throughout: the mission of the Society today. This did not happen because it was planned. There was a kind of unconscious dynamic at work which imperceptibly gave 686 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/5 this orientation to the various decrees. The consciousness of mission, if fully appropriated in all of its richness, could do much to revivify the Society, over-coming in the first place a great deal of individualism and self-will, and bring-ing about a greater sense of the living presence of Christ sending through His Church, and through superiors. In the actual procedure of the congregation there were unique features arising from the sharing that took place in smaller groups. One of the most im-portant parts of our daily life was the concelebrated Mass which was celebrated according to the different language groupings. Finally this congregation is probably distinctive in the fact that a little over half of the delegates were under forty-nine years old (122 out of the 236). Strengths and Weaknesses of the Congregation Like all meetings of this kind there are both strengths and weaknesses to be found. I could not resist the temptation to say that one of the strengths was un-doubtedly sheer psychological tenacity to "keep at it" for over three months when everyone was exhausted both from the work itself and the emotional strain. But the main strength of the congregation is the sense of solidarity manifest among the delegates and throughout the Society, a solidarity coming from a vision based on faith and brought into an Ignatian focus through the Spiritual Exercises and our Jesuit tradition. However, I think that there are also some deficiences evident in the work and structure of the congregation. Some way has to be found to expedite the carrying out of business. Though it was an attempt to get the input from the whole Society, on balance, the analysis of the postulates took up too much time. And questions of order consumed interminable hours. In regard to particular questions, in retrospect, it might have been a serious mistake not to have separated in some way the question of the Fourth Vow from that of grades. While they are related, they are distinct. And the interven-tion of the Holy See was concerned with the Fourth Vow, and not directly with grades. Again the expression given to the relationship of the Society to the Holy Father is "safe," but it creates the impression of one who is driving a car with one foot on the accelerator and the other on the brake. It does not seem to ex-press the 61an of Jesuit spirituality in its fullness. One reason for this inade-quacy stems from the fact that the congregation came to the topic only in the last few days before it ended, and the members did not have the mental energy or the time to do justice to it. Another difficulty is in the formulation itself. Attempts to combine both the unreserved expression of the spirit of loyalty and the juridical aspect of limits tend to cancel one another out. For example, there were numerous attempts, all sterile, to speak of "mission" in relationship to "doctrine," wherein loyalty would be unreserved in regard to mission, but conditioned in regard to doctrine. Consequently the resulting statement is bland, not nuanced. This will probably be one of the main topics that will have to be taken up at the next General Congregation. A Survey of the Thirty-Second General Congregation Another deficiency is the fact that the congregation treated those problems which are more obvious because they have a certain shrillness--the problem, for example, of global injustice. Just as important, however, but without the volume being turned up, are questions touching man and technology, par-ticularly the genetic manipulation of man. Again, these questions will probably have to be faced by the next congregation. What to Hope For If the Society as a whole could translate what is set down in the decrees from formulation into fact, it would be renewed. In turn it would become a great force in renewing the Church and the world. What hope is there for such a renewal? The parable of the sower and the seed has its application to the Society as well as to the Church. There are those whose roots are not deep enough to withstand trials. There are others whose life of faith is choked by cares and riches. But then there are the many who do yield fruit, some, a hundredfold, some sixty, some thirty. Decrees, however excellent, are no substitute for the gospel-call to totality. To the degree that individuals open themselves to the radical call of the gospel will they also open themselves to the decrees, which after all are only a faltering attempt to express this radical call in a way that is both Ignatian and contemporary. There are many factors which will contribute to energizing this renewal. Many feel a need for a deeper life of prayer. The importance of spiritual direc-tion is expressing itself strongly. A fuller appropriation of the Spiritual Exercises ¯ through the directed retreat is a great blessing. Again, an important factor is the reinforcement and leadership given to the Society by other religious con-gregations which have already led the way in the renewal of religious life by bringing their lives more in conformity with gospel simplicity and single-mindedness. We can also hope that we will not repeat the mistakes of the past ten years. Considering the turmoil and confusion coming from "future shock," these mistakes are perhaps understandable. But no organization can exist in a state of continuous convulsion. Many of the delegates, in searching for answers to the problems which faced us "discovered" our Thirty-first Congregation, which someone described as the great congregation in the history of the Society. We found that in many cases we could not do better, in fact could hardly come up to the decrees of the Thirty-first. But we also felt like a traveler who had spent hours trying to find his way only to discover after much meandering that there was a map in his glove compartment. The documents of the Thirty-first General Congreg -tion were such a map. The logical question, then, is: why were not the decrees implemented? A still more haunting question is: will the same thing happen to the decrees of this congregation? This was a problem which preoccupied the delegates throughout the whole time. Meetings were held to discuss implementation. But as the saying goes, 61~! / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/5 there is many a slip,between the cup and the lip. How much will the Society be able to drink in from the decrees? One of the main sources of hope, in addition to those mentioned above, is a renewed sense of solidarity and confidence among the provincials, and a strong sense of support in Fr. General. In the past ten years very often inaction resulted not from a failure of courage or faith, but because of a blurring of ideas concerning the fundamentals of religious life, often enough because of contradictory views bandied by theologians. The provincials obviously have not suddenly received some formula of universal application to solve all problems, but there is a greater sense of assurance and direction. The weight of implementation turns around the local superiors with the support of the provincials. There is hope here also, because the superiors themselves have a greater sense of their solidarity and of their role as spiritual leaders of the local communities. Ultimately the problem is always the same: conversion. It is something never accomplished once and for all, but continues to repeat its call. There are the perennial obstacles to conversion: inertia, self-love, self-will, the evil spirits that affect us all as individuals. However, it especially in the way that the collectivity reenforces the inertia in individuals that we find the main obstacle today. Group-think and group-feel, in large part created through the media, produce a kind of closedness that filters down from a collective level to in-dividuals, bringing about imperceptibly a closedness in the individual. Each one, young or old, is caught in some degree on this split level of collectivity and self, and suffers from the unfreedom of the collectivity. Jesuits already engaged in the apostolate have to discern how much this group-think affects their personal lives, impeding their personal conversion and the fruitfulness of their apostolate. Jesuits who are in formation have to do the same. The responsibility of those who are in charge of training the younger Jesuits is great. The importance of the congregation comes not from the written decrees but from the support that these decrees give to creating in the Society a different kind of group-think, a "group-feel" based upon the gospel. "My name is legion." Legions can be driven out only by legions. The demonic in collectivity can only be driven out by the embodiment of holiness in collec-tivity. The Society will rise or fall to the extent that the good will of the in-dividual is supported and sustained by a corporate realization of sanctity. No individual can abdicate the responsibility for his own conversion. But in a special way superiors have a responsibility for the whole group. Newman remarked somewhere that good is never done except at the expense of those who do it, and truth is never enforced except at the sacrifice of its propounders. Reformers and prophets have never been well received. Perhaps superiors are destined to enter into that role, not, however, with a martyr complex or heaviness of heart. We have a living example in Fr. Arrupe that it is a role that is compatible with a deep joy. Aiding and facilitating the work of the superiors are the communities A Survey of the Thirty-Second General Congregation / 689 themselves which are called upon, through community meetings and prayerful discernment, to face their own response to the gospel call to simplicity, and to bridge the gap between the radical response to which we have vowed our lives and the actual way in which we live them. When I asked one of the delegates who was in great part responsible for the formulation of the decree on poverty how optimistic he was about its im-plementation, he said: "When I think of human nature, I am not very op-timistic. But when I think of the power of the Spirit, 1 am hopeful. Everything depends on the Spirit. Legislation can support; it cannot convert. Of ourselves we are weak, but with the power of the Spirit we can overcome, overcome even ourselves." POSITION OPEN The Department of Theology in the School of Religious Studies of the Catholic University of America announces the opening, beginning January, 1976, for: Assistant, Associate or Full Professor in the field of Christian Spiritual Theology. Applications should be sent to:Chairperson Department of Theology Catholic University of America Washington, DC 20064 The Catholic University of America is an equal ol~portunity employer. The Recovery =of Religious Life Bro. Raymond L. Fitz, S.M. Bro. Lawrence J. Cada, S.M. Both authors belong to the Marianist Training Network. Brother Raymond Fitz is director of the Marianist Institute of Christian Renewal and associate professor of Engineering Management and Electrical Engineering at the University of Dayton. He lives at 410 Edgar Avenue; Dayton, Ohio 45410. Brother Lawrence Cada is chairman of the Department of Science and Mathematics at Borromeo College of Ohio and lives at 315 East 149 Street; Cleveland, Ohio 44110. I. Introduction~ How long will the turmoils now besetting religious life last? Are they almost over, and has the process of returning to a more normal situation begun? Or will things stay unsettled for some time to come? This article will argue for the likelihood of the latter alternative. On the basis of the models and analyses presented, the article will try to show that religious life in America is undergo-ing a profound transition, which will take another twenty to twenty-five years to run its full course. Moreover, the study will seek to demonstrate that social disintegration (loss of membership, lack of vocations, collapse of institutions, etc.) of religious communities in the Church will probably continue for at least the next ten to fifteen years. The most significant questions facing religious life in those ten to fifteen years will center on "death and dying." Many aspects of the life as it has been known will be passing away. Only after these questions are accepted and creatively answered can religious life be expected to be revitalized and renewed within the Church. This process will demand both a recovery of that deep dynamic impulse which first gave rise to religious life in the Church and a recovery from the malaise through which it is now passing: tThis is a draft of a work in progress. Feedback on the content and style of this paper would be ap-preciated. 690 The Recovery of Religious Life hence the title "The Recovery of Religious Life." Although much of this arti-cle argues for the plausibility of these assertions and their implications for the future of religious life, there will also be provided an explanation of how the data were collected and organized, and of what was called important or unim-portant. In this sense, these assertions represent a starting bias that informs the entire article. As such, this bias merits being stated at the outset. The approach taken in this article2 is to explore the questions about the future of religious life from a historical and sociological point of view. In the first two parts of the article, two models are developed: a historical model of the evolution of religious life as a movement in the Church and a sociological model dealing with the organizational life cycle of an individual religious com-munity. Then, in the final sections of the article, these two models will be used to address questions about the present condition of religious life and its future. Every model represents a simplification of reality, and the models in this arti-cle are no exception. To arrive at the questions posed in the final sections, the article will digest and condense large amounts of material drawn from a variety of sources that are partially indicated in the notes. It is hoped that this simplification is not a serious distortion of the facts and that it will arrange the historical and other data in such a way as to provide an overview from which some tentative generalizations can be made. II. The Evolution of Religious Life: A Historical Model Religious communities in the life of the church are not fixed and static en-tities. Taken together they make up a historical process unfolding over time, and religious life can be viewed as a significant social movement in the history of Western Culture. As parts of a movement, religious communities arose in response to dramatic social change in the Church and in the larger cultural and political arena of Western Civilization. They became a dynamic force in shap-ing and cha~ging the Church and secular culture. They have been both a cause and an effect of social change: the founding of religious communities has fre-quently been a response to major developments of society, and the evolution of the Church and Western Culture has been significantly influenced by the life and work of religious communities. As in all social movements, the role of myth, the emergence of belief systems, the fashioning of institutions and social structures, and the role of personal transformation and commitment are central to the evolution of religious life. The dynamic interplay of all these elements creates, sustains and limits the histo~'ical unfolding of religious communities. ~This article grew from a variety of experiences over an extended period of time with multiple presentations at workshops and reflections from many religious. Especially helpful were Fr. Norbert Brockman, S.M., Sr. Gertrude Foley, S.C., Bro. Thomas Giardino, S.M., and Sr. Carol Lichtenberg, S.N.D. The scheme of dividing the history of religious life into the five eras presented in the second part of this article was first suggested in a lecture given by Fr. David Fleming, S.M., at the University of Dayton in December, 1971. 692 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/5 A. Organizing Concepts One way to view the unfolding of religious life within the Church is to look at how the image of religious life has evolved over time and what implications this evolution has had for the functioning of individual religious communities.3 The term dominant image of religious life is used here to name a multifaceted reality that includes how religious view their life and its functions and role within the Church and the world during a given period. The term is also meant to indicate the sense of history which permeates religious life at a given time. How do people, both the religious and the members of society at large, picture the past of this way of life? What kind of future are religious supposed to be creating? The process by which the dominant image of religious life evolves in time can be characterized by a repeated sequence of identifiable phases of change: - Growth Phase. A relatively long period of elaboration and develop-ment of the dominant image of religious life and its implications. - Decline Phase. A period of crisis in which the dominant image of religious life comes under strong question. Religious communities seem no longer suited to the aspirations of the age. Religious com-munities lose their purpose, drift into laxity, and disintegrate. Transition Phase. A comparatively short period of revitalization in which variations of the dominant image of religious life emerge and one of these is gradually selected as the new dominant image. - Growth Phase under a New Image. A period of elaboration and development under the new dominant image of religious life. The supposition that religious life has passed through a succession of such phases of growth, decline, and transition is the basis of a model that can be used to organize and interpret the data of the history of religious life.4 The remainder of this section is devoted to illustrating a way this model might be constructed. 3Some sources used to clarify the notion of dominant image were Fred Polak, The hnage of the Future, translated and abridged by Elise Boulding (San Francisco: Jassey-Bass, 1973); Changing Images of Man, Policy Research Report No. 4, Center for the Study of Social Policy, Stanford Research Institute, May, 1974; and Kenneth E. Boulding, The Image: Knowledge in Life and Society (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1961). *Some sources used to clarify the notion of social evolution were Stephen Toulmin, Human Understanding-I (Princeton: P. U. P., 1972); Anthony F. C. Wallace, "'Paradigmatic Processes in Cultural Change," American Anthropologist (Vol. 74, 1972), pp. 467-478; Donald T. Campbell, "'Variation and Selective Retention in Socio-Cultural Evolution," in H. R. Barringer, G. I. Blanksten, and R. W. Mack (¢ds.), Social Change in Developing Areas (Cambridge, Mass.: Schenkman, 1965); Edgar S. Dunn, Economic and Social Development." A Process of Social Learn-ing (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins U. P., 1971); and Thomas S. Kuhn, The Structure of Scientific Revolutions (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1962). The Recovery of Religious Life / 693 The following questions have been used in fashioning the model. First, there are questions about variation that deal with searching and experiment-ing. Under what conditions do variations appear in the dominant image of religious life? If these variations lead in certain directions, what factors in culture, the Church, or religious life itself influenced the choice of those direc-tions? Second, there are questions about selection. What determines which variations in the dominant image of religious life are selected out to serve as essential elements of a new image of religious life? How do members of religious communities distinguish well-founded and properly justified variations from those which are precipitous, not well thought out, and hasty? ¯ Finally, there are questions about retention that deal with incorporating and establishing the new. How are selected variations incorporated into religious communities? What processes are needed? What set of factors distinguishes in-novations which endure from those which disappear quickly? B. Major Eras in the Evolution of Religious Life Using the concepts described above, the history of religious life can be divided into five main periods: the eras of the Desert Fathers, Monasticism, the Mendicant Orders, the Apostolic Orders, and the Teaching Congregations) The description of these eras given in this section constitutes the historical model that will be used in the final portion of this article. 1. Era of the Desert Fathers The first period was the Era of the Desert Fathers. Following the earliest manifestations of religious life in the mode of consecrated virgins and widows within the Christian communities of the persecuted Church, ther~ emerged the image of the religious as the ascetic holy person. The description of the her-mit's life given by Athanasius in his Life of Anthony crystallized an ideal which inspired both solitary anchorites and many communities of cenobites. The desert was seen as the domain of the demons to which they had retreated after being driven out of the cities by the triumph of the recently established Church. It was to this "desert" that generous men and women withdrew to 5Factual and historical data on the history of religious life were gathered from such standard sources as The Catholic Encyclopedia (1907), The New Catholic Encyclopedia (1967), the An-nuario Pontificio, The Official Catholic Directory, and The Catholic Almanac. Some of the other sources on this topic were Raymond Hostie, S.J., Vie et mort des ordres religieux (Paris: Descl~e de Brouwer, 1972); David Knowles, O.S.B., Christian Monasticism (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1969); Humbert M. Vicaire, O.P., The Apostolic Life (Chicago: Priory Press, 1966); Derwas J. Chitty, The Desert a City (Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1964); Owen Chadwick, John Cassian, 2nd ed. (Cambridge: C. U. P., 1968); William Hinnebusch, O.P., "'How the Dominican Order Faced Its Crises," Review for Religious (Vol. 32, No. 6, November, 1973), pp. 1307-1321; William A. Hinnebusch, O.P., The History of the Dominican Order, 2 vols. (New York: Alba House, 1966, 1973); Teresa Ledochowska, O.S.U., Angela Merici and the Company of St. Ursula, 2 vols. (Rome: Ancora, 1969); William V. Bangert, S.J., A History of the Society of Jesus (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1972); and Adrien Dansette, Religious History of Modern France, 2 vols. (New York: Herder and Herder, 1961). 69t~ / Review for Religious, lZolume 34, 1975/5 carry on the Church's important work of doing battle with the devil in the wilderness as Christ had done long ago. In this way the desert came to be seen as a place of austere beauty, where the monk was trained in the ways of perfec-tion. He returned from time to time into the midst of his fellow Christians, who saw in him the power to do good--healing the sick, casting out demons, comforting the sorrowful with gentle words, reconciling the estranged, and above all urging everyone to put nothing in the world before the love of Christ. This image captured the imagination of the Christian world as news about the Desert Fathers spread from Egypt to all points of the Roman empire. Throughout the 4th century monasteries sprang up on all the shores of the Mediterranean. By the 5th century, the golden age had begun to fade. In the East, the monks had become embroiled in doctrinal controversy. In the West, TABLE 1: ERA OF THE DESERT FATHERS (200-500) Dominant Image of Religious Life. The ideal of religious life is the holy ascetic who seeks " the perfection of Christ as a solitary or in community with a group of monks. Disciples withdraw into the "desert" and place themselves under the care of a master ascetic who teaches them the ways of perfection. They live nearby as hermits or gather in cenobia or monasteries where the master is the superior. The monk prays, mortifies himself, does battle with the devil for the sake of the Church, and spends his life seeking union with Christ. 2nd and 3rd Centuries 251 Anthony horn Consecrated virgins and widows live a form of 271 Anthony withdraws into the desert RL within Christian communities of the early 292 Pachomius born Church during the persecution. 4th Century 313 Edict of Milan 325 Pachomius founds cenobium 356 Anthony ~lies 357 Athanasius writes Life of Anthony 360 Basil founds monastery in Cappadocia 363 Martin founds monastery in Gaul 376 Melania founds monastery on Mount of Olives 393 Augustine founds monastic group in Hip-po 399 Cassian, disciple of Evagrius, migrates from Egypt to West Hermits and cenobites flourish in the Egyptian desert. Various forms of solitary and com-munity RL spread around eastern rim of the Mediterranean (Palestine, Syria, Cappadocia). First monasteries are founded in the West. 5th Century 410 Alaric sacks Rome RL continues to expand in the East. Spread of 415 Cassian founds monastery in Marseille wandering monks and various kinds of 455 Vandals sack Rome monasteries in the West while the western half 459 Simon the Stylite dies of the Roman Empire crumbles. 476 End of western Roman Empire 1st TRANSITION: SPREAD OF BENEDICT'S RULE The Recovery of Religious Life / 69t~ the foundations of Roman civilization weakened under the onslaught of the barbarian tribes, and the ties between the eastern and western halves of the Empire began to break apart. The monasteries in Gaul and other parts of the moribund West became refugee cloisters, where the monks gathered the few treasures of civilization they could lay hold of. As dusk settled on the glories of imperial Rome, the stage was set for the rise of feudal Europe and with it the next period in the evolution of religious life. 2. Era of Monasticism The next period was the Era of Monasticism. In his attempt to regularize religious life as "a life with God in separation from the world," Benedict produced a new dominant image of religious life. This image was not only a correction of the abuses which had crept in during the 5th and 6th centuries, it also, and more importantly, turned out to be a successful adaptation of religious life to the feudal society of the Dark Ages and the early medieval period. Benedict's short and practical Rule furnished workable guidelines for all monastic activity and every age and class of monks. It combined an uncom-promising spirituality with physical moderation and flexibility. It emphasized the charity and harmony of a simple life in common under the guidance of a wise and holy abbot. By the 9th century, this new image had spread to virtually all the monasteries of Europe. The ideal of the Benedictine monk became the model for Christian spirituality and played a part in the stabilization and unification of society. Various modifications, such as the Cluniac, Carthusian, and Cister-cian Reforms, maintained and adapted the dominant image to the developments in European society. Cluny and the Cistercians devised methods of uniting monasteries into networks that became harbingers of the modern order. However, by the time the 'first stirrings of urbanization began at the end of the 12th century, the dominant image began to show its inadequacies and once again laxity in religious life was not uncommon. There was also a great debate between monks and canons about which form of religious life was a more authentic embodiment of the apostolic ideal. As the civilization of the high Middle Ages began to emerge, new possibilities were felt in society and with them came the opportunity for a transition in religious life. 3. Era of the Mendicant Orders When Francis and Dominic launched their communities, they ushered in the next period, the Era of the Mendicant Orders. As mendicant friaries sprang up in towns across Europe, they met with an initial hostility which could not fathom how this new style could be an authentic form of religious life. Gradually, though, the new image of religious life became acceptable, and it proved to be a much better adaptation of ~:eligious life to the needs of urban society than was possible for the monasteries in their rural settings. During the course of the 13th century, even the monastic orders established studia close 696 / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/5 to the new universities, where the mendicants were flourishing. As Christen-dom was passing through its zenith, the image of a religious life unen-cumbered with landed wealth played a key role in the cultivation of the in-tellectual life by the Church within society and in the preaching of the Gospel for the Church. TABLE 2: ERA OF MONASTICISM (500-1200) Dominant Image of RL. Life in a monastery is the ideal of the religious. The daily round of liturgical prayer, work, and meditation provides a practical setting to pursue the lofty goals of praising God and union with Christ. Within the Church and society, the monks set an example of how deep spirituality can be combined with loving ministry to one's neighbor and dutiful fidelity to the concrete tasks of daily living. 6th Century 529 Benedict founds a monastery to live ac- Spread of monasteries throughout western cording to his Rule Europe (Gaul, Spain, Ireland, etc.). Various 540 Celtic monasticism takes root in Irela'nd formats. Excesses and laxity are common--as 590 Columbanus founds monastery in Lu~r are wandering monks. euil 7th and 8th Centuries 642 Arab conquest of Egypt Gradual spread of Benedict's Rule to.more and 700 Venerable Bede more monasteries of Europe. Missionary 746 Boniface founds monastery in Germany journeys of Celtic monks to evangelize 755 Canons of Chrodegang founded northern Europe. 9th Century 816 Regula Canonicorum of Aix-la-Chapelle Observance of Canons Regular is made uni- 817 Charlemagne's son decrees that form by the spread of the Rule of Aix. Con- Benedict's Rule is to be observed in all solidation of Benedict's Rule. Virtually all monasteries. This project coordinated by monasteries are "Benedictine." Benedict of Aniane. 910 Cluniac Reform 1084 Carthusian Reform 1098 Cistercian Reform 10th and llth Centuries Various reforms breathe new life into Benedict's ideal and introduce organizational variations. 1111 Bernard joins the Cistercians 1120 Premonstratensians founded 12th Century Canons Regular unite into orders which are a variation of the monastic networks of Cluny and Citeaux. Military orders attempt a new form of RL which is temporarily successful (Knights of Malta, Templars, Teutonic Knights, etc.). 2nd TRANSITION: RISE OF THE MENDICANTS After a rapid flowering, the mendicant orders were affected by the same changes which spread across the Church and European society in the 14th and 15th centuries. As the Renaissance presaged the new humanism, the secularization of European society, and the breakup of the unity of Christen-dom, there emerged the conditions for yet a new kind of religious life. The Recovery of Religious Life / 697 TABLE 3: ERA OF THE MENDICANT ORDERS (1200-1500) Dominant Image of RL. The simple friar who begs for his keep and follows in the footsteps of the Lord is the ideal of RL. He prays as he goes, steeping himself in the love of Christ. Unencumbered by landed wealth, the mendicants are free to travel on foot to any place they are needed by the Church. They hold themselves ready to preach, cultivate learning, serve the poor, and minister to the needs of society in the name of the Church. 1211 Franciscans founded 1216 Dominicans founded 1242 Carmelites founded 1256 Augustinians founded 13th Century Mendicant friaries spring up in medieval towns across Europe. These foundations lend themsel~,es to work in the new universities and the apostolate of preaching. Rapid expansion of the mendicant orders. Monastic orders make some attempts to take up the style of the mendicants. 1325 75,000 men in mendicant orders 1344 Brigittines founded 1349 Black Death 1400 47,000 men in mendicant orders 1415 Hus burned at the stake 1450 Gutenberg 1492 Columbus 1500 90,000 men in mendicant orders 14th Century ~tabilization and slow decline of the mendicant orders. Abuses in RL are prevalent. 15th Century Various reforms restore the mendicant ideal and produce a gradual increase in membership. First stirrings of the Renaissance introduce an uneasiness into the Church and RL. 3rd TRANSITION: THE COUNTER-REFORMATION 4. Era of the Apostolic Orders The transition to the next period in religious life, the era of the Apostolic Orders, happened with the Counter-Reformation. Not long after Luther sparked the Protestant Revolt, the new image of religious life appeared with the foundation of various orders of Clerics Regular, the chief of which were the Jesuits. The verve and style of this new foundation set the pace for religious life, The mendicant orders had taken up this ideal in part by joining in the mis-sionary conquests,of the Church in the newly discovered lands. The new image also spurred religious to come to terms with the secularizing trends of the scientific revolution, modern philosophy, and the rise of nationalism in Europe. Jesuits, for example, could be found in the royal courts of almost all of Europe's Catholic kingdoms, in the laboratories of the new scientists, and teaching the youthful Descartes at La Fl~che. As the proponents of the Enlightenment testily challenged the very ex-istence of the Church, a slow decline descended upon religious life. Large and nearly empty monasteries dotted the European countryside. Jansenist and Enlightened thought undermined the.rationale for religious life from opposite directions. The Bourbon kings succeededin persuading Rome to suppress the 69~! / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/5 Jesuits in 1773. On the eve of the French Revolution, worldwide membership in all the men's religious orders stood at about 300,000; by the time the Revolution and the secularization which followed had run their course, fewer than 70,000 remained. Many orders went out of existence. As the 19th century began, there was need of a thorough-going revival of religious life, which could realistically cope with the new consciousness of Europe. TABLE 4: ERA OF THE APOSTOLIC ORDERS (1500-1800) Dominant Image of RL. Religious are an elite of dedicated and militant servants of the Church with a high level of individual holiness, a readiness to defend the Church on any front, and the zeal to win new expansion for the Church to the very ends of the earth. 1517 Luther sparks the Reformation 1535 Ursulines founded 1540 Jesuits founded 1541 Francis Xavier sails for Far East 1545 Trent starts 1562 Discalced Carmelite Reform 16th Century RE virtually wiped out in Protestant Europe. Founding and expansion of a new kind of RL in the format of the Clerics Regular. These groups work at shoring up the Church's political power in Catholic Europe, reforming the Church, and spreading the Gospel in the foreign missions. 17th Century 1610 Visitation Nuns founded 1625 Vincentians founded 1633 Daughters of Charity founded 1650 St. Joseph Sisters founded 1662 Ranc6 launches Trappist Reform 1663 Paris Foreign Mission Society founded 1681 Christian Brothers founded 1700 213,000 men in mendicant orders Flowering of spirituality, especially in French School, leads to new foundations such as the various societies of priests and clerical con-gregations. Bulk of men religious still belong to mendicant orders. 1725 Passionists founded 1735 Redemptorists founded 1770 300,000 men in RL in world 1773 Jesuits suppressed by Rome 1789 French Revolution starts 18th Century A few clerical congregations emerge, but RL as a whole seems to be in decline due to the in-roads of Enlightenment thought, Jansenism, wealth, and laxity. Weakened RL is given the coup de gr?tce by the French Revolution, which sets off a wave of political suppression and defection in France and the rest of Catholic Europe. 4th TRANSITION: FRENCH REVOLUTION 5. Era of the Teaching Congregations The revival of religious life which occurred in the next period, the Era of the Teaching Congregations, set off in a new direction. There were about 600 foundations of new communities in the 19th century. They were, for the most part, dominated by the movement of educating the masses. For the first time The Recovery of Religious Life / 699 in European history, the idea of educating everyone had the possibility of be-ing concretely realized. The new congregations joined in this movement in hopes of planting the seeds of a hardy faith in the souls of the children they taught by the thousands. This zeal for the education of children was combined with a cleansed Jansenistic spirituality to form the new image of religious life. While the activity of religious spilled over into other apostolic works such as hospitals, teaching set the pace. Even the few pre-Revolution orders which were managing a slow recovery took on many of the trappings of the typical 19th century teaching congregation. For the first time in the history of religious life, recruitment of adult vocations was almost completely displaced by the acceptance of candidates just emerging from childhood. Through the end of the 19th century and on into the 20th the religious who gave themselves to this demanding work of teaching edified the Church and produced a brand of holiness which was most appropriate for a Catholicism which sought to strengthen a papacy denuded o.f worldly power and to care for the masses of the industrialized wor.ld in need of christianization. By the mid-1960's membership in religious communities reached the highest point in the history of the Church. In the last decade, this trend was reversed for the first time in more than a century. Crises have set in which some ascribe to a loss of identity TABLE 5: ERA OF THE TEACHING CONGREGATIONS (1800-present) Dominant Image of RL. Religious dedicate their lives to the salvation of their own souls and the salvation of others. The style of life of religious men and women blends in intense pursuit of personal holiness with a highly active apostolic service. Identity with the person of Christ unites this two-fold objective into a single purpose. 19th Century 1814 French Restoration; Jesuits restored by Rome 1825 Fewer than 70,000 men in RL in world 1831 Mercy Sisters founded 1850 83,000 men in RL in world 1859 Salesians founded 1870 Papal infallibility declared Revival of RL after widespread state sup-pressions. Numerous foundations of con-gregations dedicated to a return to authentic RL blended with service, principally in schools. Old orders, such as Jesuits and Dominicans, rejuvenated in the format of the teaching con-gregations. Church gradually centralizes around the papacy and isolates itself from secular trends of the modern world 20th Century 1950 275,000 men in RL in world 1962 Vatican II starts; 1,012,000 women in RL in world 1965 335,000 men in RL in world 1966 181,500 women in RL in U.S. 1972 879,000 women in RL in world 1973 143,000 women in RL in U.S. 1974 227,500 men in RL in world Expansion and solidification. In the sixties, crises set in from within RL due to loss of iden-tity and inroads of secularizing process. Numerous defections and decreasing numbers of new members. 5th TRANSITION: (?) 700 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/5 and the inroads of secularism. It seems that another transition in the long history of religious life has begun. Further considerations will be undertaken in the remainder of this article to better analyze the present situation. 11I. The Life Cycle of a Religious Community: A Sociological Model The previous section of this paper focused on a historical model for the evolution of religious life as such within the Church; in this section attention is turned toward the life of the individual religious community or institute. To this end, a sociological model for the life cycle of individual religious com-munities which organizes the important dimensions of each period in the life of the communities is developed.6 This model allows further probing of the questions concerning the plausibility of a revitalization of religious life, since revitalization of present religious communities is one way that religious life as a whole will be renewed. A. Organizing Concepts To date, only thirteen men's religious orders in the entire his.tory of the Church have ever surpassed a membership figure of 10,000 at some point of their existence. The membership pattern of three of these orders--the Dominicans, the Minims, and the Jesuits--is graphed in Figure 1 below. Although these three examples are taken from among the largest orders of the Church, they are representative of the membership pattern in most religious communities, large or small. Typically one finds one or more cycles of growth and decline in the number of members. These membership patterns suggest a dynamic of inner vitality that goes on in a religious community. Using such analogies as the human life cycle and other cycles of growth and decline, a sociological model has been devised which divides the life cycle of an active religious community into five periods: foundation, expansion, stabilization, breakdown and transition. The model is shown schematically in Figure 2. The shape of this curve is intended to repre-sent the over-all vitality of the community as it passes from one period to the next. In the following section salient events and characteristics which typify each of these periods are described. An attempt is also made to isolate the crises which occur during each period. ~Some sources used to clarify the notion of a life cycle were Hostie, Vie et mort; Wallace, "'Paradigmatic Processes"; Gordon L. Lippitt and Warren H. Schmidt, "Crisis in a Developing Organization," Harvard Business Review (Vol. 45, No. 6, November-December, 1967), pp. 102- 112; and Lawrence E. Greiner, "Evolution and Revolution as Organizations Grow," Harvard Business Review (Vol. 50, No. 4, July-August, 1972), pp. 37-46; Thomas F. O'Dea, The Sociology of Religion (Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey: Prentice-Hall, 1966); Luther P. Gerlach and Virginia H. Hine, People. Power and Change: Movements of Social Transformation (Indianapolis: Bobbs- Merrill, 1970). The Recovery of Religious Life / 701 _z 20 LLI ~ lO 30 1200 1300 ! \/ , st 1400 1500 1600 1700 I t I t I I I II ! I ! 1800 1900 2000 Figure 1: Membership of Dominicans, Minims, and Jesuits IFOUNDATIONIEXPANSION ISTABILIZATION BREAKDOWN TRANSITION Figure 2: Life Cycle of a Religious Community B. The Periods of the Life Cycle 1. The Foundation Period The first period in the life of a religious community centers around a found-ing person and his or her vision. The founder or foundress undergoes a radically transformi,ng experience, which can usually be pinpointed to an event or series of events, and .which is perceived as an abrupt shift in the founding 702 / Review for Religious, I/olume 34, 1975/5 person's identity and a timeless moment in which a vision or dream is received. Contained in the transforming experience is a new appreciation of the message of Jesus which leads to innovative insight on how the condition of the Church or society could be dramatically improved or how a totally new kind of future could be launched. A new impetus to live the religious life in all the totality of its demands is felt, and a new theory emerges that is at once a critique of the present, an appropriation of the past, a compelling image of the future, and a basis for novel strategies. The founding person's transforming experience is followed by the initial emergence of the community. A fortuitous encounter takes place between the founder or foundress and some contemporary men or women in which the founding experience, the innovative insight, the emerging theory, and the call to holiness are shared. The group unites under the guidance of the founding person to search for and invent new arrangements for living the Gospel together and working toward the realization of the Kingdom of God. The foundation period may last ten to twenty years or longer and fre-quently coincides with the last part of the founding person's lifetime. Integra-tion and cohesion center on the founding person and still more deeply on the person of Christ. The structural identity of the community appears in seminal form, and authority in the community springs from the wisdom of the found-ing person. Founding events of religious communities have a uniqueness about them which has caused them to be especially treasured as significant moments in the Church's past. Examples of founding persons and their visions readily come to mind: Angela Merici's dream of a new kind of religious life for women that centered on an active apostolate; the hopes of Robert of Molesme to restore fervor through the primitive observance of Benedict's Rule in the wilderness of C~teaux; Don Bosco's contagious vision of loving Christ and joyfully serving the poor. The more striking cases of founding persons receiving their in-spirations have become part of the common heritage of all religious: Anthony hearing in a Sunday Gospel the words which were the key to his life's aim; Ignatius retiring to Manresa to receive his visions. For the most part the foundation period is a time of grace and charism for a new religious community. But there are also crises that must be faced. The crisis of direction forces the community to decide which undertakings are im-portant and which must be sacrificed. The crisis of leadership confronts the community with the problem of finding out how it will live beyond the time of its founding person. The crisis of legitimization engulfs the nascent community in the question of whether or not the Church will approve it as an authentic form of religious life. The Waldensians, for example, showed some signs of becoming a new religious order on the pattern of the mendicants, but they never overcame the crisis of iegitimization. Instead of becoming a religious community, they ended up as renegades who had to hide out in the woods of medieval Europe. The Recovery of Religious Life / 70a 2. The Expansion Period When the community has emerged from the foundation period, it un-dergoes a fairly long period of expansion, during which the founding charism is institutionalized in a variety of ways. A community cult and belief system solidifies, a community polity is fashioned, and community norms and customs take hold. As members of the community's second generation mature and grow older, they recount stories of the foundation, which they have heard from the pioneers or have themselves experienced in their youth. These stories enshrine decisive events which set the community's direction or establish its characteristic traits. Gradually, rituals and symbols which express and com-memorate the most treasured facets of the foundation are fused with the.iore of the older members into a sort of sacred memory and cult that begins to be passed on from generation to generation as the community's "founding myth." Attempts are made at thinking through the founding myth and expressing it in terms of contemporary thought patterns. Eventually these efforts result in theories, interpretations, and social models which coalesce into a belief system and give a rational structure to the more intuitive thrust of the founding myth. Simultaneously, procedures are devised for community decision making and communication, and bit by bit the community's polity.takes shape. Norms are set down and customs emerge which cover all aspects of the community's life, such as membership criteria, leadership standards, and apostolic priorities. The members of the young community experience an excitement about the growth and success which characterizes the expansion period. Large numbers join the community, and new works are rapidly taken on which enhance the possibility of a still broader recruitment. Major interpreters of the founding vi-sion are recognized. Patterns of spiritual practice are determined, and the community's spirituality is made concrete in manuals of direction or other written documents. With expansion come certain organizational crises. How is authority to be delegated? What means will be used to integrate and tie together the rapidly expanding network of establishments and the burgeoning membership. When Bernard joined the Cistercians thirteen years after their foundation, he led the community through this kind of organizational crisis. In the process, a new en-tity, the general chapter, was invented to cope with the situation, and this in-novation is still a standard feature.of most religious orders today. Another crisis of this period centers on maintaining the pristine vigor of the founding vision. As rival interpretations arise, which will be discarded? A classic exam-ple of this kind of crisis occurred in the great debates about poverty among the early Franciscans just after Francis died. 3. The Stabilization Period After a fairly long expansion, which may last two to three generations or "/04 / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/5 longer, there ensues a period of stabilization. Numerical increase in membership may continue, but geographical expansion usually slows down. The stabilization period may last a century or more, but it is sometimes as brief as fifty years or so. A feeling of success pervades the community during the stabilization period. Members experience a high degree of personal satisfaction from simply being in the community. The prevailing image of religious life is clear and accepted. It provides a basis for describing unambiguous social roles for religious. The community is accomplishing its purpose and this purpose is self-evident. The need to improve is not seen as a need to change things but simply to do better what is already being done. Gradually, as stabilization sets in, more and more of the community assumes that religious life has always been the way it is now and that it will always remain so in the future. There is little need to elaborate the understanding of the founding vision or penetrate into it more deeply. It is simply accepted and repeated to new members who join. No one is left in the community who knew the founding person or the first dis-ciples personally. Memory of the founding events takes on the cast of past his(ory that is separate from the present moment. Formation of new members emphasizes their conformity to standard patterns of external behavior that are seen as the best means of cultivating interior commitment. The over-all feeling of success which is so typical of the stabilization period is not illusory. There is in fact a job that is being done and done well by the many generous religious who devote themselves to its accomplishment. The kinds of crises that Crop up during the stabilization period are linked to the other characteristics of the period. The crisis of activism occurs. Members become so absorbed in work that they lose sight of its spiritual and apostolic underpinning. They allow the satisfactions of accomplishment to dis-place a centeredness in Christ. Loss of intensity is another crisis of the stabilization period. Is it possible to maintain the intensity of vision and com-mitment among members, now that the community has become so highly in-stitutionalized? They can often be simply carried along by the sheer inertia of the community's activity and held in place by the pressure of social expecta-tion placed on their role as religious from people in the Church. Another danger stems from the crisis of adaptation. In the midst of success the com-munity is seldom open to adaptation, and any changes that have to be made are fraught with difficulty. Quite often, even the most legitimate changes are rejected, and their proponents are righteously and intolerantly silenced. The failure of later Jesuit missionaries to implement the ideas of Matteo Ricci con-cerning Confucian practices among Chinese Catholics is perhaps a good ex-ample of the sort of resistance to adaptation that can be found during the stabilization period. 4. The Breakdown Period Eventually the seeming immutabilities of the stabilization period start to give, and the religious community enters the breakdown period. The The Recovery of Religious Life / 705 breakdown may be gradual and last a half a century or more, or it may be rapid and run its course in a few decades. In either case, what happens is a dis-mantling of the institutional structures and belief systems that arose in the ex-pansion period and served the community so well during the stabilization period. This collective decline gives rise, in turn, to stress and doubt in the in-dividual members. Initially .a number of persons become dissatisfied with the current state of the community. Perhaps they are simply struck by what they judge to be the silliness of some of the community's customs or procedures. Or they may come to see that the community's life and work are not equipped to handle im-portant new challenges. Unanswered questions about the function and purpose of the community begin to accumulate and start to raise doubts. Levels of in-dividual stress increase slowly at the beginning, but then rise rapidly as doubt spreads to more and more levels of the community's social structure. To handle the growing problems, standard remedies are tied. All that is needed, it seems, is to get back to doing well what has always been done and to renew commitment to the community's mission. However, the usual problem-solving techniques become increasingly ineffective. A sense of crisis grows as community authority and decision-making structures become confused. The community's belief system begins to appear archaic and bound in by the trap-pings and articulations of a bygone age. The founding experience and myth, which had been internalized by the community's early generations, is no longer felt by the members. As the community loses its sense of identity and purpose, service to the Church becomes haphazard and lacks direction. Moral norms in the com-munity are relaxed and some members perhaps distract themselves with sex and a misuse of wealth. There is a net loss of membership through increased withdrawals and decreased recruitment of new members. The crises that arise during the breakdown period center on the various phenomena of decline in the community. The crisis of polarization can become acute when those who have faith in the community as it was align themselves against those who in varying degrees reject the community as it is. The crisis of collapsing institutions sets in as the community is forced to stop doing "business as usual" and abandon long-established works. The resulting demoralization leads to the crisis of the community's impending death. What is to be done as the chilling awareness grows in the community that it is inex-orably listing into disintegration on all sides? 5. The Transition Period The breakdown is followed by a period of transition. Three outcomes are possible for religious communities during this period: extinction, minimal sur-vival, or revitalization. Extinction, the first of these outcomes, occurs when all the members of a community either withdraw or die and it simply passes out of existence. This happened, for example, to 76% of all men's religious orders founded before 706 / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/5 1500 and to 64% of those founded before 1800. From a historical perspective, then, a reasonable expectation would seem to be that most religious com-munities in the Church today will eventually become extinct. A religious community which does not die out may go into a long period of low-level or minimal survival. If the membership pattern of presently existing religious orders founded before the French Revolution is examined, one finds that most of them enter into a period lasting across several centuries in which the number of members is very low. In fact, only 5% of all men's orders founded before 1500 and only 11% of the orders founded before 1800 have a current membership which is larger than 2,000. The Minims (Figure 1) are typical of the orders which once were quite large and now have a small membership. This type of outcome should not be interpreted as a dis-appearance of vitality in every case. The Carthusians, for example, follow this membership pattern. Yet they seem to be living UP to their reputation of never having relaxed their observance--never reformed and never needing reform. To this day the order's spiritual impact appears greater than its numerical strength. There is also a small percentage of religious communities which survive the breakdown period a~d enter into a period of revitalization. At least three characteristics can be singled out in all communities which have been revitalized in this way: a transforming response to the signs of the times; a reappropriation of the founding charism; and a profound renewal of the life of prayer, faith, and centeredness in Christ. The time in history fn which revitalization occurs seems to make a difference. If the revitalization occurs during one of the shifts in the dominant image of religious life singled out in the historical model above, the com-munity takes on many of the characteristics of the emerging image, and the transforming response to the signs of the times seems central to the revitaliza-tion. If the revitalization occurs midway during one of the major eras in the history of religious life identified earlier in this article, the revitalization takes on the characteristics of a reform with the reappropriation of the founding charism playing a central role. In either case the community experiences the revitalization as a second foundation. Personal transformation or conversion is central to revitalization. With personal transformation comes innovative insight and a new centering in the person of Christ. The innovative insight allows the transformed individuals within the community to develop critical awareness of the assumptions un-derlying the traditional meaning of the community and functioning of that community within the Church and the world. This innovative insight brings with it a focusing of energies through a new positive vision of what the com-munity should be in the future. The vision allows the emergence of a new theory which gives meaning to the experiences of individuals and the shared events lived within the community and spurs the community to building and creating its future. Such a new theory guides the community in the search for The Recovery of Religious Life / 707 and the invention of new models ~of living together as a community bound by. the evangelical conditions of discipleship in the service of the Church. A more complete sketch of the human dynamics of revitalization will be given in the last section of this article. The essential components of this dynamic, namely, insight and vision, and new theory and new models, are mentioned at this point to complete the picture of the life cycle of a religious community. Some limitations of this sociological model and the historical model of the previous section are given in the next section together with some generalizations that can be drawn from the models. IV. Some Limitations and Generalizations A. Limitations of the Models Before proceeding, some concluding and cautionary remarks must be made. Evidently the rapid overview of the history of religious life given in the first portion of this article should not be taken as anything more than a demonstration of how the evolution of religious life can be interpreted so as to fit the model of the five main eras that are being postulated in the proposed historical model. The account is far too compressed and over-simplified to provide an adequate and proi~erly nuanced telling of the story of religious life. For example, little attention was given to the Canons Regular, who constituted a significant portion of men religious from the Middle Ages to the French Revolution. There was no discussion of the medieval military orders nor of Orthodox monasticism. A still more gaping lacuna is the almost complete absence of any analysis of the way women's religious life differed from or followed the same pattern as that of the men. It may be that the sources used in this study were not sensitive to the distinctive role women actually played in the evolution of religious life. On the other hand, it may be that up to the present time the trends of women's religious life have been very parallel to those in the men's orders. The models proposed for the evolution of religious life and for the life-cycle of a religious community are also both simplifications. Some might validly question, for example, whether there were just five major eras in the history of religious life and whether the transitions between the eras occurred as clearly as the historical model suggests. The description of the dominant image of religious life for each era is a simplification of what was in every case a rather complex phenomenon. Hopefully, the liberties that have been taken are justified by the intention of trying to synopsize the history of religious life in such a way as to make some tentative insights more easily accessible to someone who is not a professional historian. Similarly, the breaks between the successive periods in the life cycle of a religious community are nowhere near as clear-cut as the proposed sociological model suggests. In .history, breakdowns sometimes occur within one order in different geographical locales at different times. Revitalizations often occur in some places for an order, while it decays elsewhere. At times 708 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/5 there are orders in which the role of the founding person is rather minor and does not have the decisiveness described in the model. Some communities have been founded in rather modest historical circumstances that were not accom-panied by the profound inspiration described in the model. These and similar qualifications must be kept in mind when the sociological model is used to in-terpret the life cycle of any particular community. B. Generalizations The models presented in the previous sections suggest some generalized conclusions. These conclusions can be helpful in exploring the present crisis of religious life. The historical evidence suggests that there have been significant shifts in the dominant image of religious life across the centuries. These shifts seem to occur when there are major societal changes astir and when the Church is un-dergoing major changes. The first transition happened as the Roman Empire fell in the West and feudal Europe was beginning; at the same time the rift between western and eastern Christianity was starting. The second transition occurred as feudal Europe was giving way to medieval urbanization and as the Church was gathering all of Europe into the unity of Christendom. The third transition took place at the start of the modern period of Western Civilization as the Church underwent the shock of the Reformation. The fourth transition resulted from a direct attack of society on the Church as a whole and on religious life in particular. Admittedly each of these changes in the culture and the Church differed from one another in many respects. However, the pattern seems clear enough at least to permit one to ask whether perhaps another shift in the dominant image of religious life would happen if major changes in society and the Church should come to pass. Although religious communities have been founded in almost every cen-tury of Christian history, it seems that each major shift in the dominant image of religious life is heralded by some significantly new foundations which em-body a new image in an especially striking way. This could be said of the earliest Benedictine monasteries for the first transition, of the Franciscans and Dominicans for the second transition, of the Jesuits for the third transition, and of the plethora of 19th century foundations for the fourth transition. It also seems to be the case that many communities go out of existence at each transition. Those that survive either continue in a diminished form or somehow blend the new dominant image with the charism of their own foun-dation to get another lease on life. The mendicant orders, for example, grew numerically stronger during the Era of Apostolic Orders as they adapted their own special gifts to the new style of religious life. The culture of the high Mid-dle Ages was rapidly and irretrievably passing away, but the mendicants adapted and flourished. One might ask, then, if the Church would witness the death of many religious communities and the foundation of new and different ones if a shift in the dominant image of religious life were to occur. The remainder of this article will explore the plausibility of maintaining that The Recovery of Religious Life / 709 another major transition has in fact begun in the history of religious life. Should this hypothesis be true, it would be appropriate to pose questions about h6w religious life is dying and how a recovery and revitalization might happen. Another observation that suggests itself from this brief survey concerns the continuity that underlies the shifts of the dominant image of religious life. As the image evolves it continues to hold up the impelling ideal of a radical following of the conditions set forth by Christ for an evangelical discipleship embedded in a life of prayer and deep faith. While the contemporary religious would probably not feel called to take on the externals of the life of the Desert Fathers, he or she will surely understand and be drawn to the stark beauty of the life of radical discipleship that moved Anthony to withdraw into the desert. Similar remarks could probably be made about the ultimate aims of the first Franciscans and the first rugged band of Jesuits. Through all the twists and turns in the make up and style of religious life, there is a deep core of seeking union with Christ in a special and total way that endures century after century. A great deal of historical precedent would have to be explained away by anyone who would wish to maintain that religious life is about to disappear as a separate and distinguishable way of life in the Church. The historical pattern seems to be one of repeated recovery. The present moment is indeed a time of trouble for religious communities, but religious life as a whole will doubtlessly survive. Turning to the sociological model, some further generalizations can be made. In the evolution of a religious community the non-rational elements of transforming experience, vision, and myth play a central role. This is es-pecially true during the periods of foundation and revitalization. Although necessary for each period in the life-cycle of a community, the techniques of rationality (long-range planning, leadership training, etc.) will never be suf-ficient to found a religious community or to revitalize one. The renewed vitality that comes to some religious communities during the time of transition finds its source in plumbing the depths of.the mythic and non-rational and in-tegrating them with the more rational dimensions of human life. A central insight of the myth of original sin is that humankind is not capable of sustained development; breakdown and disintegration are ever-recurring manifestations of the human condition. Since religious men and women exist within the human condition, it should not be surprising that, from time to time, all religious communities experience an extensive period of significant breakdown and disintegration. These bleak realities should be em-braced with humble acceptance of th~ human condition and a faith-filled hope that the Lord will in time resurrect life-giving initiatives from the death-dealing processes of breakdown. V. Where Does Religious Life Stand Today? In the previous sections of this article, the history of the religious-life movement in the Church and of particular religious communities was ex-amined to determine the major factors within culture, the Church, and 710 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/5 religious communities themselves that significantly influence the evolution of this movement. Generalizations from the proposed models indicate that major. transitions are likely to occur in religious life when secular culture is in the midst of a major crisis, and when religious life has experienced a period of major breakdown. The factors can serve as a useful matrix for answering the question, "Where does religious life stand today?" As was mentioned in the in-troduction, the answer proposed in this article is that religious life is undergo-ing a pervasive transition that will last for the next twenty to twenty-five years and which will significantly change the style of life and service of religious communities. The plausibility of this assertion is developed in this section. A. Signs of Transition in Secular Culture Many writers have noted that contemporary culture is in the midst of a societal transition. Some compare the present time to the Renaissance. Others claim that the present multifaceted change is equal to if not greater in magnitude than the agricultural and industrial revolutions. Many strands of societal transition have been pointed out. Spiritual, intellectual, philosophical, psychological, political, economic, and many other crises in society have been described by writers from a wide range of disciplines. For the purposes of this article, a cluster of these difficulties, which might be broadly termed the socio-economic crisis, will be summarized below as a sample of the sort of comment on contemporary society being made today. Catastrophic events and critical trends are continually reported by the news media. These reports range from widespread famine in the Sahel and South Asia to the continued downward spiral of the national economy. Careful analysts and writers have noted that these events and trends are a manifestation of the parallel growth of a set of interrelated critical issues which they have designated as the "world problematique.''7 A list of the critical issues that make up the "world problematique" would include: Energy Problems: Runaway growth in domestic and worldwide use of energy; shortages and scarcity of energy; insufficient capital resources to develop new energy sources. Food Problems: Food supply unable to meet the demand for food; worsening of weather conditions through pollution; increasing food prices due to food scarcity and increasing cost and consumption of energy; deterioration of arable land through increased urbaniza-tion and ecological undermining; actual widespread famine; potential long term problems of hunger and famine. Pollution Problems: Rise of pollution-induced illness; exponential increhse in the pollu-tion of the air and seas; denuding of natural environment through strip mining. 7.Some sources used to examine the "world problematique" were Kenneth E. F. Watt, The Titanic Effect: Planning for the Unthinkable (Stanford, Conn.: Sinauer Associates, Inc.); Donella H. Meadows, et al., The Limits to Growth (Washington: Potomac Associates, 1972); Mihajlo Mesarovic and Eduard Pestel, Mankind at the Turning Point (New York: Reader's Digest Press, 1974); Lester R. Brown, In the Human Interest (New York: W. W. Norton, 1974); and Lester R. Brown with Eric P. Eckholm, By Bread Alone (New York: Praeger, 1974). The Recovery of Religious Life / 711 Economic Problems: Growing world inflation; market saturation (e.g. airplanes, elec-tronic equipment, automobiles); instability and manipulation of monetary system, lack of alternatives to growth economics; increasing gap between the "have's" and the "have not's." Work Problems: Increasing unemployment and underemployment; saturation of the labor market; decreased productivity; increasing alienation and dissatisfaction with work; depersonalization of work environments. Problems of Urban Areas: Deterioration of urban areas; increasing crime rates; in-creasing cost of essential urban services. Problems of International Order." Hazards of international competition and war; com-petitive economic policies. What makes the "world problematique" different from problems en-countered in previous eras is its complexity and the pervasive interrelationship of its elements. Hence, the "world problematique" is not amenable to normal methods of problem solving. Attempts to address such critical issues in a singular or joint fashion introduce fundamental dilemmas that do not appear resolvable within conventional modes of thought. Among such dilemmas which seem to be plaguing the contemporary politico-economic situation, four might be singled out: the dilemmas of growth, guidance, global justice, and social roles.8 These dilemmas are delineated more fully in Table 6. One may ask if these problems and dilemmas have not been present during most of the Industrial Era. Are not the problems of the 20's and 30's very much the same as those of the 70's and 80's? What makes the above mentioned problems and dilemmas different is that they have not been ameliorated through the use of conventional wisdom and standard problem-solving ap-proaches. In fact, one may argue that application of these approaches has led to many unanticipated and undesirable consequences. Resolution of the problems and dilemmas is dependent upon a thorough-going shift in social perceptions, involving restructuring of beliefs, images, and human aspirations at a fundamental level. B. Crisis in the Church and the Breakdown in Religious Life The Catholic Church in America has been profoundly influenced by con-temporary change. For at least fifteen years the Church has been experiencing a transition of its life. The Second Vatican Council (1962-1964) was a result of the early stages of this transition and a triggering event for its later stages. The Church began to open itself to a world which was undergoing a dramatic secularization. This opening up or aggiornamento had significant impact on all dimensions of Church life. Parish life and parochial education are no longer the only shapers of the values and beliefs of American Catholics. The once-clear norms and social roles ~vithin the Church no longer seem to serve their original purpose. For example, the Vatican's official position on birth 8The schematization presented in Table 6 is based on the work of Bill Harmon, Director of the Center for the Study of Social Policy, Stanford Research Institute. 712 / Review for Religious, I~'olume 34, 1975/5 TABLE 6: SOME DILEMMAS OF CONTEMPORARY SOCIETY Growth The fundamental "new scarcity" of fossil fuels, minerals, fresh water, arable land, habitable surface area, waste-absorbing capacity of the natural environment, fresh air, and food come from approaching the finite limits of the earth. These limits demand a radical slow down or leveling off in material.growth and energy-use curves of the past.' Yet, the present economic and political system is built around a growth hypothesis. The economic and political consequences of limiting growth appear unbearable. Guidance Dilemma Ecological considerations along with awesome power of modern technology to change any and all aspects of the human environment establish a mandate for greater guidance of technological and social innovation. Yet, the political price of such guidance is very high. Such guidance is perceived as con-trary to man's fundamental right to freedom and as an inhibition to economic growth. Global Justice Dilemma Further advances by the industrialized nations make the rich nations richer and the poor nations relatively poorer. The impressive ac-complishments of the industrial economy are largely built on a base of cleverness plus cheap energy, the latter from the world's limited stockpile of fossil fuels. Yet, the costs of not redressing these inequities may be serious political and economic world instabilities as well as widespread famine and inhuman suffering in the poorer nations. Social Roles Dilemma Present economic system is failing to provide Yet, the absence of satisfying and personally an adequate number of satisfying social roles meaningful roles for women, youth, the especially for women and minorities. The aged, and minorities along with worker employment market is saturated; there is a dissatisfaction in general results in in-need to keep youth and the aged out of the creased I~ersonal alienation and erodes labor market, the morale of the nation. control is considered unacceptableto an increasingly large number of Catholics. Difficulties are arising in the functioning of such Church structures as the priesthood and the traditional role of the laity and of such Church institutions as parishes, schoo|s, and hospitals. Their once-unquestioned role within the Church no longer seems to satisfy the needs of an increasingly large number of church members. This crisis and transition within the Church has had a dramatic effect on religious communities of women and men. Religious communities have begun to experience all of the signs of entering into the breakdown and disintegration period described earlier in this article. There has been a sharp decline in membership due to increased withdrawals and a decrease in new recruits. Re- The Recovery of Religious Life / 713 cent literature9 gives a statistical picture of this breakdown in the United States. - A recent National Opinion Research Center study indicated there is a larger relative number of resignees among those already established in church careers than in any other equivalent period of time since the French Revolution. - For the years between 1965 and 1972 66% of the yearly decrease in communities of religious women was due to dispensation or termination of vows. In communities of religious women the average annual net increase over these years was approximately 768 members, the average annual net decrease was 3841, with only one-third of that loss caused by deaths. - The total number of Sisters in 1974 had declined 17% from 1960 and 23% since their peak membership year in 1966. - The total number of religious Brothers in 1974 had decreased 12% since 1960 and 26.5% since their peak membership year in 1966. The purposes of religious communities which were once clear and widely understood have become vague and meaningless to some in the midst of the modern church crisis. The structures of authority and process of communica-tion and decision making within religious communities seem no longer to fit the needs of the individuals within the community or suit the evolving work of the communities. The processes of formation to religious community have sometimes become disorganized and seem to lack purpose. These and other signs indicate that the last fifteen to twenty years have been a time when most religious com-munities have begun to experience breakdown. This cluster of the signs of breakdown in virtually all communities seems to indicate that we are ap-proaching the end of another major era in the history of religious life. C. Restatement of the Bias This review of the transitions in secular culture as well as the current crisis of the Church allows us to use the historical and sociological models of the evolution of religious life and religious communities outlined in the previous sections to answer the question "Where does religious life stand today?" In the introduction of this article, an answer was given in what was called the fun-damental bias of the article, namely, that religious life in America is undergo-ing a profound transition, which will take another twenty or twenty-five years to run its full course. The arguments leading up to this bias can be set forth as follows: 1. The dominant image of religious life has undergone several major tran-sitions as religious life has evolved as a movement within the Church. 2. The occurrence of these major transitions is associated with a number 9Carroll W. Trageson and Pat Holden, "Existence and Analysis of the 'Vocation Crisis' in Religious Careers," (pp. 1-3) in Carroll W. Trageson, John P. Koval, and Willis E. Bartlett (eds.), Report on Study of Church Vo

(rphe bettysbttf Metcufy. OCTOBER, 1897. ©OJSfTEJSTTS: [ILTON'S "COMUS," . ->IRT, IIGHER EDUCATION IN GERMANY, DURNALISTIC EVOLUTION AT GETTYSBURG, 'A LEARNED PROLETARIAT," MEMORIAM—HARRY SMITH, EDITORS' DESK, . ATHLETICS,. . SUNSET, 15 16 19 25 27 30 32 33 GETTYSBURG: STAR AND SENTINEL PRINT. I News Depot & Subscrlptiorn Agent MAIN- ST., QETTYSBDBO, PA. : Sole Hmtficturer of Dr. Tylor's Coogh :•: SAMUEL FABER. FlBB SlGA^S -AINJD-SMOKER'S A$TK Chumbersbur;/ Si., OETTYSBVl R. H. j EM- H. BfllNNlCH, l^FlNI^NCl El^ Manufacturer, Wholesaled Retail Dei.- ^ —— *v? CONFECTIONERY AND ICE CREAM, Merchant l | not surprising then, but rather to be expected that a certain| unity of ideas become apparent in Milton's poetry. Dealing asil does with moral truth, we may naturally look for a single chiefl tendency, a permanent presence of one dominant conception ij all his poetical self utterances, epic, lyric and dramatic. Milton's inner life, of which his poetry was the expression,! was an unceasing tendency from evil to good, from base or coral mon to noble; a perpetual aspiration and struggle towards moral greatness. Mr. Dowden in the Fortnightly Review has drawn il most interesting and truthful comparison between the ideals ol Milton and Goethe. "Not less than Goethe, Milton studied self-1 culture. But while Goethe with his deliberate Hellenism ma man an end to himself, Milton, over whom the Hebrew spirt! kept jealous watch, considered man as the creature of God. 1 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. the hierarchy of human faculties, Milton assigned the place of supreme authority, as Goethe never did, to those powers which lie upon the Godward side of our humanity; to those perceptions md volitions which are concerned with moral good and evil. 1he impartiality of Goethe's self-culture was undisturbed by any vivid sense of sin. No part of his being seemed to him in ex-treme peril from spiritual foes; no part appeared to him the ob-ject of fierce assault. It was easy for him to transfer his atten-tion serenely from this side of his nature to that, while with reso-lute and calm persistence, he strove to attain completeness of self-levelopment. To Goethe the world was a Gymnasium or Acad-emy, and life a period of higher education. The peculiarity of lilton's view was that before him the world lay as a battlefield; ife was a warfare against Principalities and Powers, and the good nan was a champion of God. The sense of sin never forsook him nor that of a glorious possibility of virtue. What Milton [feared above all was disloyalty to God and to him nature in its aost significant aspect was but the scene of an impressible, un-jceasing antagonism between good and evil. In spite of his classical culture, and his renaissance sense of beauty, he not less than Bunyan saw as the prime fact of the world,—Diabolus at odds with Immanuel. He as well as Bunyan beheld a celestial ity, and a city of destruction, standing remote from one another vith hostile rulers. Milton added, as did Bunyan, that final vic-tory must be on the side of good and right, that is, he asserted eternal Providence. There is a victory which is God's, not ours; it is our part to cleave to the Eternal One; His part to achieve the triumph on our behalf. Here it is that we pass to the dominant idea which governed ae inner life of Milton, and the dominant idea around which re-volved the cycle of his poetical works, as that of his prose works revolve around the idea of liberty. In illustration of the noble idealism of Milton we have chosen jfor a brief analysis, his "Comus," the work of his young man-hood, composed when he was 26 years of age. From its first scene to its last, the drama is a representation of the trials, diffi-culties and dangers to which man's, self-restraint and purity are ex-posed in this world and of the victory of the better principle in jthe soul, gained by strenuous human endeavor aided by the grace THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. of God. The glory of virtue tried and triumphant is its motivJ and theme. That form of drama called "The Masque." to which Conrol belongs, was introduced from Italy and England early iu thJ reign of Henry VIII, and found great favor among the nobilittl and royal family. Its characters were taken by lords and ladiel The performers wore peculiar costumes and also covered theij faces with masks. Conms was first produced on the 29th of September, 1634, ill the great hall of Ludlow Castle, where then resided the Earl i Bridgewater, who was then Lord President of Wales. The masquel was intended to celebrate his entrance on his official residence! A large concourse of the neighboring nobility and gentry were! present. The younger members of the Bridgewater familvl thought that among the hospitalities of the occasion, there shoul!| be included some striking musical and poetical entertainment-masquerade in short. Milton at the request of his friend, Hennl Lawes, who taught music (at the Castle) in the family, wrote tlit| poetry, and Lawes set it to music. Of course there were nvi and shepherds and enchanters in the machinery and the plot.I The two sons, aged respectively 9 and 12 years, and Lady Alice,! the daughter of the Earl, took the principal parts in the Masquel —the incidents of which were drawn from a recent adventure oil their own. Passing through Haywood forest on their way | Ludlow Castle they were benighted, and the Lady Alice was I a short time lost. The incident related to Milton became the! foundation of the beautiful Mask he composed, in which he was true to the highest sense of his vocation as a poet, while he satis-fied all demands on his skill. The masque must include music! with a special song for Lady Alice—dances and entertainingI masquerade. It must appeal to local felling, must refer, also,I with direct compliment to the new Lord President, and must pro-1 vide fit parts for the three youngest children of the family, the! Lady Alice and her brothers, John and Thomas. Ludlow Cas-J tie had in former years been a seat of much wild revelry, adl something of this Milton may have known when he madel his masque a poet's lesson against riot and excess. The rev-1 erence due to youth, Milton maintained by causing his childI actors to appear in no stage disguise but simply as themselves.! THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. There was on the stage a mimic wood, through which the childred passed on their way to their father and mother who sat front, and to whom at the close of the mask they were pre-sented. As they traversed this wood, typical adventures rose about them, and gave rise to dialogue, in which the part given to Lady Alice made the girl still speaking in no person but her own, a type of holy innocence and purity, while the elder brother fersomfied faith, and the younger distrust and doubt. The whole framework of the poem is most skilfully designed ! meet its purpose, while the melody of the verse and the beauty ' thought, have excited the highest admiration of the most udicious critics. "Comus," says Taine, "is perhaps Milton's nasierpiece and is simply a eulogy of virtue." "In Comus,"says Shaw, "Milton has given us the most perfect and exquisite speci-nen of a masque, or rather he has given a kind of ennobled and glorified masque. The refinement, the elegance, the courtly ■ace and chivalry -all are there, but there is something in Comus better, loftier and grander than all this—something which no other masques with all their refined and scholar-like, and airy ■egance have ever approached, a high and philosophic vein of Tiorality : "Divine philosophy. Not harsh ami nigged as dull fools suppose, Bin musical as Apollo's lute." Jpacaulay says-"Comus is the noblest performance of the kind vhich exists in any language. He made his Masque what it ought to be, essentially lyric, and dramatic only in semblance. The speeches must be read as majestic soliloquies, and he who reads them will be enraptured with their eloquence, their sub-limity and their music." "I should much commend," says Sir Henry Wotten in a letter to Milton, "the tragical part, if the yncal did not ravish me with a certain Doric delicacy in your ongs and odes wherunto I must plainly confess, I have seen yet nothing parallel in our language.'' | It is high time that we let the poem speak for itself. "We are n Heaven at the first dash," says Taine. A spirit descended in « midst of the wild woods opens the drama with a prologue of great dignity. This ode : "Before the starry threshold of Jove's Court My mansion is, where those immortal shapes Of bright, aerial spirits live ensphered In regions mild of calm and serene air THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. Above the smoke and stir of this dim spot, Which men call earth ; and with low thoughted eare Confined, and pestered in this pinfold here, Strive to keep up a frail and feverish being, Unmindful of the crown that virtue gives, After this mortal change, to her true servants, Amongst the enthroned gods on sainted seats , Yet some there be that by due steps aspire To lay their just hands on the golden key That opes the palace of eternity. To such my reward is, and but for sucli I would not soil these pure, ambrosial needs With the rank vapors of this sin-worn mould." —Liim 1-lt. And thus the soliloquy of the guardian spirit of innocence in thisl dangerous neighborhood continues, until it hears "the tread ofl hateful footsteps," and then makes itself viewless. Comus enttiJ with a charming rod in his hand, his glass "of pleasing poison"! in the other. With him a rout of monsters headed like suiidnl sorts of wild beasts, but otherwise like men or women, their ap-1 parel glistening. They come in making a riotous and uiiruhj noise, with torches in their hands. The Enchanter Comus, so: of Bacchus and Circe, the sorceress is the inheritor of a two-fok vice; a personification of sensual indulgence. His haunt anil palace is in this dreary wood, and the night is the chosen seasonl for his revelries and drunken orgies. It is the hour Comus sings:[ "When the sounds and seas with all their finny tribe Now to the moon in wavering morris move And on the tawny sands and shelves Trip the oert fairies and the dapper elves." The son of Circe dances and shakes his torches amid the clamorl of men transformed into brutes. The noisy dance is interrupted] by the sound "some chaste traveller benighted in these woods. At their leader's word the attendant revellers retire from view,| and the enchanter awaits the approaching wanderer. It is a noble and beautiful lady, separated from her two broth-1 ers, who now strays "Thro' the perplexed paths of this dreary wood The nodding bower of whose shady brow Threats the forlorn and wondering passenger." (Lines 38-39.—The figures, nodding, bowet and brows give a intensity to this passage that makes it hyperbolical. It is intel-| lectual rather than imaginative. An analysis of the thought wil develop its vagueness.) She hears from afar savage cries and turbulent joy and at first til troubled by a sense of loneliness and danger. wama^m THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. "What might these be? A thousand fantasies Begin to throng into my memory Of calling shapes, and beckoning shadows dire And airy tongues that syllable men's names On sands and shores and desert wildernesses." But against her thronging fears she is doubly armed in her sense I of innocence and heavenly guardianship. "These thoughts may startle well, but not astound The virtuous mind that ever walks attended By a strong siding champion, conscience. (> welcome, pure eyed faith, white handed hope; Thou hovering angel girt with golden wings, And thou unblemished form of chastity ! I see ye visibly, and now believe That He the Supreme (food, to whom all things ill Are but 11* slavish officers of vengeance. Would send a glistering guardian, if need were. To keep my life and honor tmassailed." _ /.,■"," ;"_.,,, KThe sounds of revelry have died away, and the Lady thinks how ■best she may signal to her absent brothers aud call them to her Bide. Her voice is not strong enough by ordinary sound to pen- Kate the depth of the woods, but perhaps some soft, sweet notes ■f song may awake the echoes and reach the ears for which they are intended. The song that follows is a call to "Sweet Echo that lives within ■ier airy shell," and is a lyric gem of the finest mould : "Sweet echo, sweetest Nymph, that liv'st unseen Within thy airy shell By slow Meander's margent green And in the violet embroidered vale Where the love lorn Nightingale Nightly to thee her sad song mourneth well Canst thou not tell me of a gentle pair That likest thy Narcissus are? 0, if thou have hid them in some flowery cave Tell me but where, Sweet queen of parley, daughter of the sphere, So may'st thou be translated to the skies And give resounding grace to all Heaven's harmonies." Lines 230-21,3. (Note the melodious construction of the song. The trochaic verses 234 and 239 are very effective. There is a continuous flow of imagery.) The watching spirit afterwards describes the music of this song. "At last a soft and solemn breathing sound Rose like a steam of rich distilled perfumes Aud stole upon the air, that even silence Was took ere she was ware, and wished she might Beny her nature." -Lines B55-S60. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. Compare the first three lines of this beautiful passage with the| following opening lines from Shakespeare's "Twelfth Night:" "That strain again : it haund the Gettysburg MERCURY." The true ing ! It can be done, it should be done, it must be done. The proper development of superior literary taste among the students requires stimuli additional to those ordinarily applied in formal courses of study and creditable manifestations of literary effort need every possible practical encouragement. The successful publication of a college literary journal would assuredly present ;i ftnstant incentive—and one of the best—to careful expression of [original thought. The annual Spectrum has been taking excel-lent care of one form of college representation and the Gettysbiug-wi is admirably adapted for the dissemination of college news. Each of these publications requires considerable literary taste and ability in its successful arrangement and management, but, after all, its editors are not called upon for the manifestation of special literary attainment. The same may be said in respect to the MERCURY as it was. 1 The MERCURY certainly should be the journal above all others :o particularly encourage the production of a literature worthy of the student body and the college. "There is a feeling abroad " quoting from Prof. Klinger's call to arms, "that the failure to write is an indication either of a dearth of ideas or a want of the power of expression; perhaps of both." If this general surmise 1 to be changed to a necessary, universal acknowledgment of the fact, to which all of us can bear witness and which has recently been formally attested by such a high and impartial authority as Dr. Stuckenberg, that Gettysburg College students, "in thought power are the equals of those in any other college in the coun-try ' surely some material expression of the literary ability our students do undoubtedly possess must constantly as well as pub-licly be made. Nearly all of our sister colleges have literary journals, but Gettysburg has had none. "Why not?" may be ne query and what answer can we give? If the mistaken belief ows that we can not maintain a literary journal, that the college oes not stimulate its students to genuine literary expression, can words m necessarily half-hearted explanation of conditions at ^ettysburg satisfy those who note the continued lack of material ry eV1dences? The conclusion suggested, on which of course 24 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. "'the college must suffer from a suspicion of blame," is indeed a natural one and one we cannot allow to prevail. It points us earnestly to the fact that, if our college is to grow not only at Gettysburg but also before the world, this stumbling block in the I way of a public opinion destined to be more and more favorable to her must be entirely removed, some "medium for the expres-sion of creative thought" must be supplied, some direct incentive I to student literary endeavor must be furnished. A journal dedi-cated to the literary idea, and that idea alone, ought to succeed. deserves to succeed, and the MERCURY, we predict, will soon take a leading place on the list of Gettysburg and general college I publications, steadily growing in excellence, in usefulness and in I popularity for years to come. The Spectrum devotes itself largelyI to illustrating what may be seen among the students at Gettys-1 burg. The Gettysburgian is concerned mainly with what alumni and the students do. May the MERCURY ever be theI special medium for expression of Gettysburg student and gradu-ate thought. Each journal thus assumes a recognized sphereo its own. Each advancing proudly the most praiseworthy am lofty aims. All devoted earnestly and constantly to Gettysburg. | A noble, worthy, laudable trio—prosperity to them all. The students, in the emergency which lately has arisen, haveI acted in a way to deserve the strongest commendation. TheI greatly desired consummation of one project has not been heed-lessly enforced to the annihilation of another. Student clelibera-1 tions, in which college loyalty has been the one and the control ing spirit, have resulted in patriotic conclusions, Instead i planting thorns in the path of the Gettysburgian or, on the othi hand, of giving the swelling literary wave full sweep to thede truction of the tottering MERCURY with a substitution of "some-l thing else," the weekly receives the plaudits and the support that! all positive endeavor in Alma Matet's name deserves, whilst netl blood has been transfused into the veins of the senescent montlil)'| and its existence thus continued on indefinitely. The arrival" is nourished, greatly strengthened—rejuvene sprightly as the old. Nothing is lost, each is saved, progress" lumes and brightens both. Negative spirits, with all * "negativism" implies, have fallen to the rear, while all """I boys," grouped loyally around the banners of the Spectrum ml THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. the Gettysbmgian, are earnestly beckoning to alumui and to friends, and calling all to "Rally round the Gettysburg MER-CURY, rally round the Orange and the Blue." A happy time, in-deed for Alma Mater. All honor to the students and their grand endeavors. Improvement ! Advancement! Progress ! The gladdening in-luence is seen and felt on every side. Earnest endeavor in the name of Alma Mater has come to be the general theme of student thought and talk, and aroused, awakened, truer loyalty, the spirit of alumnus and of friend. Graduate, student, friend—be true to Gettysburg College now, be hers most constantly in all the days i come. Let's all unite in one, long, perpetual "Rally round the Orange and the Blue," each of us striving always to carry orward with all our might her every interest, her every aim, her hopes, her claims, her all. WILLIAM J. GIES, '93. New Haven, Conn., October5, i8gj. "A LEARNED PROLETARIAT." The increase in the number of colleges and of students who at- •nd them has alarmed some persons with the idea that we are bout to have a "learned proletariat," by which they mean a ass stuffed with the love of books but helpless to supply itself vith the means of life. Unquestionably there is a limit to the number of those who can am a living in the three learned professions. If these increase ' the same percentage as the growth of population, the supply will be equal to the demand; but there is large room even here for thoroughly educated men so long as these professions absorb the large proportion they do of the imperfectly trained. Every movement to require a more liberal culture of those who aim at ie ministry, the law, and medicine conduces to the security re-spectively of the church, the state and the physical welfare of society. But there is an ever-growing demand for broad-minded, well-rained men in the editorial chair, at the teacher's desk, and in tne various lines of business. Here we need an increase far be-oncl the percentage of increase in population. College graduates 26 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. as teachers in high-schools should be the rule rather than the ex* ception. Many kinds of enterprise profit by having men of lib-1 eral in addition to specific training, and especially from our larger colleges an increasing number are devoting themselves to what is loosely called "business." There is consequently a very fair prospect that an educated man will be able to use his knowledge to gain a livelihood for himself. Of course foresight will always! be needed to keep out of crowded places and professions,; great wealth or high office can by no means be promised; but toI a man of character and good sense competence is almost a cer-1 tainty. If education unfits a man to earn a living, causes him to des] the humbler grades of service and makes him a burden on hisl family or the community, then he is better without education. Better that he should be an illiterate toiler than an impracticable! dreamer, unable to take care of himself. The clearest evidence I that a man is meeting the end of his creation is his usefulness to| those about him. It by no means follows, however, that a man must use hisac| quired knowledge directly in procuring a livelihood, or that i less he does this such knowledge is of no service to him. Man's| highest function is not to gain a living but to make a noble useo life. And yet, unless he can get a living, there is nothing be yond. If his whole energy is absorbed in getting a living, there| is likewise nothing beyond. But the conditions of life arec often so hard, and the necessity of supporting it may be made in-l cideutal to the attainment of intellectual and moral excellence.! The former of these will enable him to understand the purposed his creation, the latter to adapt himself to that purpose. Tol know the meaning of life, to feel the sublimity and beauty ofmj hire, to appreciate the majesty of the human soul and its adapt! edness to the great universe is what we should make our affll Whatever will aid us in this should be pursued with all energyj Is a man to be shut out from this higher life because heis>| farmer, a mechanic, or even a more humble laborer? Are Ik subtleties of mathematics, the wonders of science, the beauties' classic literature to be the possession only of certain classes, a»i theirs only for the sake of getting an easier livelihood ? Are toes! merely the tools of certain workmen, as the saw, the plane ami THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 27 the chisel are the tools of the carpenter ? If so, let us lay aside 3ur cant about the nobility of knowledge and admit the wisdom Df the lazy student who is unwilling to carry about with him an ■muce more of learning than will serve his immediate purpose. But if there is something good and divine about knowledge, let as assume that it is an ornament to the hearer as well as to the preacher, the laymen as well as the lawyer, the patient as well as hie physician, the pupil as well as the tutor. If "fifty years of Jurope" are better "than a cycle of Cathay," they are so only to ie man who knows how to get out of the life of Europe what is there. For this let every youth strive to acquire the best training finds possible. Encourage every one who is intellectually apable to take a college course and expect happiness instead of .isaster as the consequence of such a spread of learning. H. IN MEMORIAM. "I sometimes hold it halfa sin To put in words the grief I feel; For words, like Nature, hall reveal And half conceal the soul within.1 it is impossible for one who has known Harry Smith constantly ' intimately, and has had the delightful experience of his riendship, not biased activities tlso in his short, M Seminary, to | words the high-sweetness of depth of a Df the rose's predicate certain ftt susceptible- to Wise, was Har-lad its own pe-only in the multi-of college life, but though earnest life enfold in suitable born thought of his character and personal grief. fragrance, one can qualities, but it is analysis ; so like-ry's character. It .1 • I, - \c_umliiaair iqjuuaciliiituieeas. 1I.n11 ■nis vacant chaff well meant for grain," we would epitomize the story of his life and pay our tribute to his noble nature Henry Rouser Smith was born at Thurmont, Md., March 14, 74- Ten years later his family moved to Chambersburg, Pa., ere Harry was graduated from the public schools in 1890. In 2g THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 1891 he entered the Chambersburg Academy, from which he was graduated in 1893. He entered college with the class of '97 and was graduated last June. A month ago he enrolled himself as a divinity student in our Seminary. On Saturday afternoon, Oct. 2, he died suddenly while returning from a picnic held at the Springs Grove by the Belmont Sunday School, of which he was superintendent. This summary, with a change of names and dates andacir-cumstance or two, might be all that could be written of many a life, but not so with Harry Smith. His life in its formative period was influenced and shaped into its later beauty by devoutly Christian parents, (only those who have been permitted to experience the rare spirituality of his home life know its impress on his life) and when he came to col-lege, he, too, exerted an influence for good upon those who were attracted to him by his uncommon personality. This influence has not ceased with his death, for like the tulip tints of an Octo-ber twilight that linger long after the sun has gone down and makes the earth beautiful, so it will linger in the lives of those who knew him best—only it will never fade away, but merge into a hoped-for radiance of an eternal dawn. Bright, cheerful, good, he was all these and more. During his college course, he held positions of trust in his class, Philo So-ciety, Y. M. C. A., and other college organizations. He was elected president of his class and business manager of the class annual published in their junior year. He was chairman of last year's successful Y. M. C. A. lecture committee; an enthusiastic supporter of athletics and, without disrespect to his predecessors, he was the most successful business manager THE COLLEGE MERCURY ever had and his loyalty to it never fagged. Asa student, he labored with the keen consciousness of his opportuni-ties and obligations. He was fitting himself exceptionally well for the work which he had chosen. The successful termination of his college course—-for he was a commencement platform speaker—his deep sympathy for men, his enthusiasm for the life-work he had planned, his affectionate disposition, his pure per-sonal character, his life of deep, earnest faith in Christ—these and other qualifications promised a successful service in the Masters vineyard. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 29 t While a senior in college, he became interested in country Sunday school work, and faithfully and acceptably taught a class in the Belmont school, two miles from town. He was the only college man who attended this school and often when the snow lay deep, or the cold rain fell, or the cold wind blew in gales, he would yenture a journey to his friends in the Seminary who had charge of the school, in order that he might not be absent should they make their usual journey. Sometimes too, when they wen willing to remain indoors, he, with fearless faithfulness, would urge them to perform what he considered a blessed duty. When upon returning to school, a month ago, the Sunday school was re-organized for another year's work, Harry was elected superin-tendent. As we walked to the picnic the day of his death his heait was filled with happy anticipations of the work for the year, fend his mind busy with plans for strengthening the school * Fidelity to every interest intrusted to him, he considered a acred duty, and it is inexpressibly sad that he should be called away so early in life. We may, after years of intimacy, say of ferry Smith. "He was without pride; without envy; without selfishness ; without vanity ; moved only by good will and spirit-ual amb.tions ; responsive even to the touch of God and every nobk impulse; faithful, fearless, magnanimous." W. A. K., '95. KESOUTIONS. Jng our lasting love and / iendshi? '™°W"00 made our lives happier win- 1 exceptionally ZLnlfvT^? ° b>' "" taIents^e promise of becoming vates us uy the powor IZZZSfSZZS Vmeyard; aUd Wh°- 6Ven ta WS death e" m:BT::x^^^^^owo 8ineere sympathy a,,d ** be publisn dX^^T*"* t0 th S- J- Miller, Committee. 3° THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. EDITORS' DESK. THE proposed memorial statue of Dr. S. S. Schmucker is a I worthy recognition of the services of the leading spirit among a number of enterprising citizens engaged in the founding of Penn-sylvania College. Such memorial is evidence of our pride in our | history and in the development of the life of our college, honoring Dr. Schmucker we honor our college and its work give ourselves an incentive to larger and better work. A general participation and prompt contributions willgiveal speedy success to this enterprise, which has originated with the| Gettysbwgian. It has the best wishes and support of the MER-CURY. * * * WITH this number of the MERCURY, we attempt an advance step in the history ofjournalism in Pennsylvania College. We | have had in our midst since last February, a newspaper, Tk Weekly Gettysbwgian, a bright, attractive, up-to-date publication, which has absorbed the former news function of the MERCURY, and leaves it free to enter more full}' the field of literature, science! and art. * * * THE Alumni of Penn'a College are an honorable and learnedI body. Her students, young men and women, are eager for cul-[ ture and knowledge, such knowledge as her Alumni can to a large! extent supply, knowledge of the kind of education and training I needed for life, knowledge that will aid, quicken, couusel and de-light us. * * * THE student bodies in Stevens Hall, in College, in Seminary, need some means by which they may get their literary productions | before a critical public. What brighter idea could be conceived than the publication of a magazine, purely the product of theseI several classes of men—students, faculty, alumni, all united by the common tie of love for Alma Mater. * * * THIS is the idea that impels us. We believe that our under-1 taking will supply a want. Will you do your part to meet by«l a hearty approval of the merits of the paper and a personal »J operation to remedy its shortcomings. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 31 ALUMNI, have you in the crucial times of your life discovered ■the element of your mental or moral make-up which has preserved you intact and unchanged ? Have you a thought that may sug-gest a happy solution of the political, social and economic ques-tions of to-day ? Can you add to the sum total of human knowl-edge? Have your senses been delighted, your mind ennobled, your soul sanctified by the beautiful, the true, the good, in nature, in literature, in art, in the experiences of your own inner self? Let not these things perish, but give them to each other and to 111. Student, are there not in you ideas and powers of expression latent, unknown, which by an attempt to exercise them will be nade manifest ? Is there not in you a yearning, yea a high re-solve, to acquire as far as possible mastery over your mother tongue, sufficient to express clearly, easily, and elegantly the unhackneyed thoughts of your vigorous untamed intellect in no-i) le English—the medium of the world's advanced civilization ? * * * I THE October-November issues of the MERCURY will be sent to nany alumni who have hitherto not been subscribers. We trust they will find that they cannot afford to be without it and will be-come friends and supporters. While your contributions and aid as-sist us directly, everything which advances and enlarges the in-fluence of the College, increases the value of her diploma and heightens the honor of those who hold it. Contributions earn-stly solicited. Merit is the test of publication. _ WE hope the changed form will commend itself to all. This fact and the recent change in the editorial staff account for our delay. We expect to publish hereafter soon after the first of the month. Our November issue is well under way and will be an excellent number. Watch for our announcement of contributors ! The two surviving members of the class of '39 show their loy-alty by a contribution to the first number. Rev. Harris, now past "e eightieth mile-stone, writes briefly, but promises more in the u ure. We hope to have some reminiscences of Penn'a College in its early days for publication soon. 32 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. ATHLETICS. The record of the foot-ball team up to this time has not beena good one, and yet considering the causes of such a record, we cannot find fault with the work of the team. Playing again-t teams averaging twenty to thirty pounds more in weight, having better training, and our team being without a coach, and having men injured at critical times or who could not accompany the team, are in brief the reasons why the games have not resulted in our favor. Of the three games played, the team showed up the best in the game with State. The first half, State scored twenty-six points and in the second but six points. This score shows Gettysburg's characteristic way of playing a loose game during the first half and of putting up a strong game during the second half. The game with the University of Pennsylvania at Philadelphia was a surprise to all college men. No one thought the Univer-sity would score over forty, and a number believed that the score would be about the same as the last year's score of 32 to o. The reason it was a surprise was because no one realized that the University has such an excellent team this year. From the smallness of the score which Penn'a had run up against Bucknell and Washington and Jefferson, we supposed that our score would also be small. But it is a noticeable fact about the Penn'a team] that it does not round into form until the season is well on, since our team met them when they were almost up to their usual | standard, the large score of 57 to o, resulted. On the same day Princeton defeated Rutgers by the score of 53 to o, and the fol-lowing Saturday, Oct.-g, the University beat Lehigh by the score I of 58 to o, scoring 46 points in the first half. These large scores | against other teams in our class show that we should not be dis-couraged on account of the score against our team. The Susquehanna game was the most disappointing of That we could beat Selinsgrove everyone was sure, and it was I only a question of how large a score our team would make. Con-trary to expectation Susquehanna University beat us 4 to 0. This [ touchdown was made five minutes after play had been started n the first half. The remainder of the first half the contest wasicI the middle of the field. In the second half our team would Iiave| THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 33 scored had it not been for a fumble. Our team was at a great disadvantage. Captain Dale who was injured in the University \ of Penn'a game was unable to play, and this was a serious blow to the team. Losing the captain is a more serious circumstance than losing any other player, for on the captain great responsi-bility rests, as he is supposed to know the ability of each player, the best method of advancing the ball and of resisting the oppos-ing team. We were also handicapped by the loss of Lawyer and Hagerman who had to be carried off the field after the first few minutes of play. Yet against this crippled team Susquehanna was able to score but one touchdown. Now that we have as coach Mr. Roy Thomas, who played 'quarter on the Orange Athletic Club's foot-ball team last year, we are sure that the team will develop quickly and win the majority of the games yet to play. The result of the game with the York Y. M. C. A., was dis-couraging. We thought that the team would win by one touch- . down at least, but when the score of 28-0 was heard, everyone wondered what was the cause of such a large score. It was on account of the holding of one man by the York players, when York had the ball ofwhich holding the umpire took no notice, and I also the careless and indifferent playing of our team. Captain Dale is now at Jhis old position, and Manges is now playing right guard until Hagerman is in condition to play. White will play his old position at half back. The team will be strengthened by their old players and we are sure that Saturday's lame with Maryland University will result in our favor. AT SUNSET. Above our heads the clouds are dark and gray, But in the distance, where the purple hills Rise up to meet the sky, the dying day Has left a glow that all the evening fills. The clouds are parted there; a bit of blue, A streak of crimson and a touch oi gold, A flood of sunset glory streaming thro' The cloudy curtain looping fold on fold. The wearied sun is lost in viewless rest, But all the clouds, aglow with after light, Reflect his image in the mirrored West, And flash across the hills a glad "Good night.' 34 THE GETTYSBURG MERCtTKV. What tho' above our heads the clouds be gray ? What tho' the shadows deepen into dark ? We gaze upon the sunset iar away And from the glory catch a faint, dim spark. Perhaps around thy life the shadows are, Perchance no brightness cheers thine onward way, Oh, turn thine eyes unto the West afar, The glow of sunset comes- at close of day. A. R. W., '99: Young Lady (on the grand stand—The umpire calls a foul, but I don't even see a feather. Her Escort—But you must re-member that this is a picked nine. We contemplate additional departments some of which will ap-pear in our next issue. Subscribe for the MERCURY. 3/ott u>t'// /i'nct a fu/f f/rto o/~ ZPure *Drutjs dc 3*ene ^Stationery ^People*s %)ruy Store, J. A. TAWNEY fs ready to furnish clubs and boarding houses with at short notice and reasonable rates. Cor. Washington and Middle Sts., Gettysburg, 'David TJroxetj DEALER IN.«. FINE GROCERIES AND NOTIONS. M?York Street.^) (gO TO^ ^ *M0TEL GETTYSBURG-* M«I mm. Centre Square. B. M. SEFTON. -^TIPTOK & BARBEHENN* In the Eiglo Hotel, Cor. Uais and WuMigtn Sli. MUMPER & BENDER, FURNITURE, Cabinet Making, Picture Frames, Baltimore St., - - GETTYSBIT.I;, 1'A SIMON J. €OD0fif —DEALER IN— BEEF, PORK, LIMB, VEAL, SAUSAGE. York Street, Gettysburg .^-Special rates to clubs. Subscribe for SZ> Settysburg Vhc penury. A6GUMULATED WEALTH. Laying up of riches isn't the only thing n life, for frequently a sour disposition is he result. You want to take comfort in life as you to along, one of the best ways to take com-fort is to buy well-fitting clothing. My Fall Styles are now here and the selection is large and varied. > Suits made to your order from $12 up. : Pressing and Repairing doiie at short no" Jtice. J. D. LIPPY, Merchant Tailor, . 43 Chambersburg St., - - BoHyabarg, Pa. ©.E.SF>AJYQLEF?, Successor to J. W. Eicholtl & Co. DEAI.KIt IN PIANOS, ORGANS, MUSIC, MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS, STRINGS, Etc. YORK STREET First Square, Gettysburg. iios CHESTNUT STREET, PHILADELPHIA ''right's Gngraving Jfouse £AS become the recognized leader in VPV , ■ n l'"N«RAVIXHS MV\ STATION- »r"J. i' f''11'"1 ('"'»ss-IJayInvitations,en- ?ruierl and printed from steel plates; Pro- •,ti;S; ;"""■ Weddil nutations, Announcemen>8ts,anetdc ReetcceptEioxn K'hcrc1CeS ft',Ul MyleS bef0re orderin8 OViniting Cards from New Engraved Plate $1.00. ERNEST A. WEIGHT yehestnut Street, - PHILADELPHIA. JOHN L. SHEA 1),S, NEW CIGAR STORE Next doot to W. M. Depot, Gettysburg, Pa. P- F. HENNIG, 0EHU.R \n— Bread, Rolls, Pretzels and Crackers YORK STREET, GETTYSBURG. I ^-Reasonable Rates to Clubs. L. D. N|ILLEit 19 Main St., Gettysburg, Grocer Confectioner f and Fruiterer. ICECREAM and OYSTERS IN SEASON. GETTYSBURG, I'A. Main St. '-''—■' ■ - MO4IIUj^PEF?, Pfi©t©gr©ntp© Square. The Carlisle Street Grocer, Who always has on hand a full line of fine Groceries. HOTEL * gETTYSBOK I Locate.! on Centre Square where K^J Ian Houae formerly stood, OETTYSBVSG, /'A.V.V.i RATES $2 P£TRD/|y It is the acknowledged Lea* Hotel of Gettysburg Hal throughout with S eold Baths; corni I in- : Dinin ity, aX); has excellence. Head League of American n'Mri Headquartei elers. Headquarters, itiilitan civic societies. Kn from till trains. H, 4 D. K. MILLER, PROPI E