Suchergebnisse

The Ghanaian political economy is in the throes of a deep and multi-faceted crisis symptomatic of institutional and economic breakdowns. Evidence of political instability is the fluidity of change of both civilian and military regimes. As a social crisis it is characterized by a profound awareness (at least by the new left iritellectuals) of the necessity for radical structural reforms.

Includes bibliographical references (leaves 480-496). ; The idea of this thesis was conceived as a result of experiences with the deprived areas of Greater cape Town. It is difficult to have regard to the social, financial and economic problems of a great many of the inhabitants of this area without giving some thought to what should be done to improve conditions and to create a better and more secure life for all the people of the area. Political and structural reform of local government may seem to some to be an incongruous starting point for the objective outlined above but yet, when the matter is considered, it will be realised that local government is a form of government which is closest to the people, and because it renders a range of services directly to people, it is in a good position to know and understand their needs. Likewise, the representative functions of councillors are important in conveying up to higher government levels, those needs which cannot be met locally. It can be said that South Africa is at a cross-roads in regard to political and structural governmental reform. The riots of 1976 and 1980 point in a direction which will be unacceptable to the majority of South Africans, irrespective of colour. If reform is to come, then a strong, vigorous and truly representative local government system will do much to make that reform successful.

Contemporary conceptions of the police and of the problems of policing in the United States have been shaped by the political upheavals and crisis of legitimacy that confronted all institutions of government in the 1960s. Recent research has focused attention on the structural aspects of discretion and peacekeeping in police work, and on the emergence of the ideology of police-community relations. Such studies have provided a critique of traditional police rationales and have demonstrated the complexity and contradictions inherent in the exercise of police power. Meanwhile, police reform in the 1970s has become an established enterprise, increasingly under the technical and administrative control of a class of professional change-makers. The present direction of technologically and legalistically determined reforms reflects an accelerated movement away from concerns of "substantive rationality" to those of "formal rationality" so that the reform process has become depoliticized and lacks policy direction. While helping to insulate the police from arbitrary political manipulation, this movement also attenuates the aims of substantive political justice, including those of police accountability, local community review, and control of police discretionary policy-making powers. Moreover, the prevailing forms of change-making in police organizations have not been substantively aimed toward creating the informed, skilled, and judicious police officer.

Contemporary conceptions of the police and of the problems of policing in the United States have been shaped by the political upheavals and crisis of legitimacy that confronted all institutions of government in the 1960s. Recent research has focused attention on the structural aspects of discretion and peacekeeping in police work, and on the emergence of the ideology of police-community relations. Such studies have provided a critique of traditional police rationales and have demonstrated the complexity and contradictions inherent in the exercise of police power. Meanwhile, police reform in the 1970s has become an established enterprise, increasingly under the technical and administrative control of a class of professional change-makers. The present direction of technologically and legalistically determined reforms reflects an accelerated movement away from concerns of "substantive rationality" to those of "formal rationality" so that the reform process has become depoliticized and lacks policy direction. While helping to insulate the police from arbitrary political manipulation, this movement also attenuates the aims of substantive political justice, including those of police accountability, local community review, and control of police discretionary policy-making powers. Moreover, the prevailing forms of change-making in police organizations have not been substantively aimed toward creating the informed, skilled, and judicious police officer.

International audience ; After a brief review of the Agriculture programme for 1980, the author considera the part which forestry would take in the reform proposed to the six E E C States. Then are examined two ways of using the area which would be left vacant by agriculture : for recreation and public health (green places, national parks and natural reserves) or for afforestation. Finally the author considera the conditions of the new european forest policy involved by theses changes : encouragement through the help and benefits given to structural change and through subsidies, integration of forest and industry, and regional objectives. ; Après une rapide présentation du programme Agriculture 1980, est examiné le rôle qu'aurait le forestier dans la réforme ainsi proposée aux 6 Etats de la C.E.E. Après examen des deux utilisations possibles des terres libérées par l'agriculture : pour la détente et la santé publique (espaces verts, parcs régionaux, parcs nationaux et réserves naturelles) et boisement ; les conditions d'une nouvelle politique forestière européenne qui serait ainsi rendue nécessaire : incitation par la prime d'apport structural et les aides, intégration forêt-industrie, objectifs régionaux, sont envisagées.

Après une rapide présentation du programme Agriculture 1980, est examiné le rôle qu'aurait le forestier dans la réforme ainsi proposée aux 6 Etats de la C.E.E. Après examen des deux utilisations possibles des terres libérées par l'agriculture : pour la détente et la santé publique (espaces verts, parcs régionaux, parcs nationaux et réserves naturelles) et boisement ; les conditions d'une nouvelle politique forestière européenne qui serait ainsi rendue nécessaire : incitation par la prime d'apport structural et les aides, intégration forêt-industrie, objectifs régionaux, sont envisagées. ; After a brief review of the Agriculture programme for 1980, the author considera the part which forestry would take in the reform proposed to the six E E C States. Then are examined two ways of using the area which would be left vacant by agriculture : for recreation and public health (green places, national parks and natural reserves) or for afforestation. Finally the author considera the conditions of the new european forest policy involved by theses changes : encouragement through the help and benefits given to structural change and through subsidies, integration of forest and industry, and regional objectives.

State workers' compensation laws have been subjected to criticism since their inception; pressure to change them is now increasing. Most of the current challenge arise from dissatisfaction with the level of benefits available to disabled workers or their survivors, and, to a lesser degree, with the extent of program coverage. In response to this challenge, changes will occur that my range from reform-simply raising benefit levels and extending coverage-to program redesign, implying major structural revisions or abolishment of the system. For several reasons, including public apathy, the role of interest groups, and experience with other social insurance programs, it seems likely that basic structural shifts will not occur in the near future. While the criticism of these state laws is widespread, the problems can be dealt with in the existing framework. One area, however, could conceivably arouse sufficient public and legislative interest to upset this forecast. If it develops that the system is excluding large numbers of individuals disabled or killed by occupational diseases, workers' compensation laws could be placed in jeopardy. While evidence on this is scarce, it is clear that the current system compensates only a small number of serious cases of disability arising from occupational diseases.

This research theme for the agrarian question in independent Algeria, structural transformation processes of production and class relations in the agrarian sector of the Algerian social formation with these highlights as are the two agrarian reforms since the independence. The analysis of the agrarian question here contributes essential way inform the evolution of the social formation.Thus, in this research we will aim mainly to capture two particular items that the analysis can be to some extent autonomized: class relations in rural society (in the area agrarian social training); the state intervention in the agrarian question, that is, the line and the agrarian program of political power, the method and means of implementing this program, the constraints encountered and the effects obtained.The unity of approach will result from the fact that analyze the relationship between agrarian classes in view to clarify the terms of the agrarian question which political power is confronted. It will be necessary to expand the scope of investigation to the political context (political and ideological) which raises the agrarian question. We will do this primarily by analyzing the one hand the characteristics of the nationalist movement, on the other hand the general guidelines of the policy of the regime of President Boumedienne. ; Cette recherche a pour thème la question agraire dans l'Algérie indépendante, le processus de transformation des structures de la production et des rapports de classes dans le secteur agraire de la formation sociale algérienne avec ces temps forts que constituent les deux réformes agraires réalisées depuis l'indépendance. L'analyse de la question agraire contribue ici de manière essentielle éclairer l'évolution de la formation sociale. Ainsi, dans cette recherche nous viserons principalement à saisir deux objets particuliers dont l'analyse peut être jusqu'à un certain point autonomisée: les rapports de classes dans la société rurale (dans le secteur agraire de la formation sociale) ; les ...

Since their establishment in 1977, Community Councils, like their predecessors, have been severely criticised by urban blacks for their powerlessness. Councillors themselves are disappointed with their inability to improve the living and working conditions of their constituents, and are aware of the rejection of councils as a meaningful political forum by many sectors of black society. In 1978 the Urban Councils Association of South Africa (UCASA) was formed to tie together the ineffective Councils into a more forceful power bloc, which would provide Councils with greater legitimacy and political credibility in the community. By doing so, UCASA acts as a counter to the Administration Boards manned predominantly by whites; UCASA is therefore in the difficult position of operating within government- created structures, while challenging the very structure on which itself is based. This report will outline UCASA's structure and activities within the context of the controversial position of local black urban authorities. It will also be necessary to describe UCASA's political standpoints, both on issues relating to Community Councils and broader South African problems. Three dominant themes constantly recur: structural deficiencies within UCASA itself; tension between UCASA and white officials within Administration Boards and the Department of Co-operation and Development; and UCASA's reaction to left-wing critics who adhere to the non-collaborationist approach with regard to government-created institutions. These divergent attitudes to UCASA will be discussed in more detail towards the end of the paper; finally, an evaluation of UCASA's success in establishing itself as a focal point of pressure for reform from within the ranks of Community Councils will be presented. ; Digitised by Rhodes University Library on behalf of the Institute of Social and Economic Research (ISER)

Issue 25.1 of the Review for Religious, 1966. ; Religious Women and Pastoral Nork by J. M. R. Tillard. O.P. 1 Metanoia or Conversion by J6seph Fichtner, O.S.C. 18 The Church's Holine~g and Reh~ous Life by Gustave Ma'~t~lei, S.J. 32 Religious Significance of the T.rinity by Bernard Fraigneau-Julien, ~.S.S. 53 Contemplatives and Change ~by Mother M. Angelica! P.C. 68 The Crisis of Creatur~liness by Alfred de Souza, S.J; 73 Sdence and Renewal by Thomas Dubay,] S.M. 80 Freudian Gloom and Christiah Joy by William J. Ello~, S.J. 95 Freedom to IObey by Mother M. Viola, O.S.F~ 104 The Great Waste by Sister Mary Carl Ward, I~.S.M. 114 A Fresh Look at God by Patrick J. 0 Halloran,, S.J. 125 Poems 130 Survey of RomanDocumi ents 132 Views, News, Prdviews 135 Questions and Ariswers 138 Book Rdviews 142 VOLUME 25 NUMBER I January 1966 Volume 25 1966 EDITORIAL OFFICE St. Mary's College St. Marys, Kansas 66536 BUSINESS OFFICE 428 East Preston Street Baltimbre, Maryland 21202 EDITOR R. F. Smith, ASSOCIATE EDITORS Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Augustine G. Ella~d, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITORS Ralph F. Taylor, S.J. William J. Weiler, S.J. DEPARTMENTAL EDITORS Questions and Answers Joseph F. Gallen, S.J2 Woodstock College Woodstock, Maryland 22163 Book Reviews. Norman Weyand, S.J. Bellarmine School of Theology of Loyola University 230 South Lincoln Way North Aurora, Illinois 60542 Published in January, March, May, July, September, Novem-ber on the fifteenth of the month. REVIEW FOR RELI-GIOUS is indexed in the CATHOLIC PERIODICAL IN-DEX. and in BOOK REVIEW INDEX J. Mo R. TILLARD, O.P. Religious Women and Pastoral Work It is interesting to study fxom a theological viewpoint the history of the appearance in the Church of religious communities of women devoted to the active life. One basic trait clearly distinguishes them: in spite of the immense diversity of their immediate ends, all these con-gregations find their finality in the exercise of evan-gelical charity in the form of what is ordinarily referred, to as "the works of mercy." Whether it is a question of caring for the sick, of helping the poor, of educating youth, of assisting the~ aged, or of accepting and rehabili-tating certain categories of men: and women, rejected bye our society, the central activity of these communities always issues in a direct love of human beings., If one compares, for example, a missionary congregation of men such as the Holy Ghost Fathers and a missionary con-gregation of women such as the Sisters of St. Joseph of Cluny, it will be seen how, in the same human context and with the same apostolic aim, ~the activity of such religious women brings to e~clesial activity a specific note of realistic charity. The priest preaches the gospel and administers the sacraments; the 'lay brother is occupied with the material needs o[ the mission; but the mission-ary sister attempts to incarnate concretely in the here and now the message of fraternal charity which is at the heart of the good news: she nurses, she feeds, she edu-cates. It is.this area that is her ministry, and in it.she finds the certainty of serving her Lord in all fullness. While in non-clerical religious communities of men (such as teaching or hospital brothers) there often ap-pears a kind of tension arising from the fact that these religious experience a sense of frustration at not being able. to exercise a priestly ministerial function, com-munities of women ordinarily find peace in the humble, day-by-day gift of their charity. This point seems to us to be ecclesiologically and pastorally important; and we would like to study it here ÷ J. M. R. Tillard, O.P., is professor of dogmatic theology at the Dominican House, of Studies; 96 Empress Ave-nue; Ottawa 4, Can-ada. VOLUME 251 1966 ! ÷ ÷ ÷ ]. M. R. Tillard, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS from three distinct points of view: first, we shall attempt to point out the theological characteristics of the specific activity of the religious women at the heart of all ecclesial activity; then we shall try to situate that activity of religious women in its direct relationship with the ac-tivity of the hierarchy; and finally we shall discuss the concrete possibilities of enlarging their activities in ac-cord with the needs of the Church today. The Work o[ Charity o[ Religious Women Is at the Heart of the Apostolic Charity of the Church In what does the charity of God's Church for men consist? To this question an answer can be given in the simple statement: the Church seeks to be a genuine in-strumentof grace by which the love of God Himself for men can be effective in the here and now of the human situation. In other words, in her charity the Church does not seek to love merely in her own name; rather she is desirous" that through her and through the mediation of her transparency and of her profound mystery of com-munion with God there may pass the power of the agape of the Father. This is the reason why her love for men is always humble and poor and never triumphant: she of-fers her heart, her hands, her toils, and her goods to the charity of God. It is in this way--and perhaps above all in this way--that she is sacrament in the precise sense that through her and the ministry of her action the One who is defined as Love reveals Himself and acts. He is that Love which does not remain enclosed within itself but which on the contrary radiates out to touch and affect all beings and all the reality of every being. To say that the Church is servant--and this perhaps is her most fitting characteristic in the present time of the history of salvation--is to say that she has no meaning except inso-far as she serves as an intermediary between the mysteri-ous love of the Father and men as they actually exist. More profoundly, it is to say that she is a mystery o[ charity; that is, through the total availability created in her by her love [or God passes the love o[ God Himself. It does not seem to us to be an exaggeration to say that today God wishes to love the world through the heart o[ the Church. In this Iove of God for men transmediated by the Church there is without doubt an internal and essential order. The dominant wish of the Father--and the entire gospel message affirms this--is to lead men to His king-dom, to introduce them already in this life to the inti-macy of His friendship in order that eventually they may share for all eternity in the glory of His Son. Christianity is not to be confused with humanism, however great the latter may be; its aim is always that self-surpassing which we call the "life of grace," and the Church can be faithful to her mission only insofar as she leads men into the fullness of the Pasch of Jesus. This is why at the heart of her action her fundamental preoccupation is always with the Pasch and its two moments of death to sin and of resurrection to newness of life. She exists [or the Pasch; she exists to proclaim the staggering reality of this Day that inaugurates the new times, to make present and active its power in the Eucharist and the other sacra-ments, to keep men in contact with this source of the love of the Father. A Church that would cease to center its life on the Pasch would no longer be the Church of God (Ekklesia tou Theou), the sacrament and the place of agape. Nevertheless, this paschal love is a total love of man in the concrete, and it has nothing of the abstract about it. It does not merely aim at.some small, secret zone of the human person (what is equivocally called "his interior life"). Without effecting an artificial cleavage between the natural and the supernatural, the temporal and the eternal, it encounters the person as he really is in the unity of his person. On the one hand, it penetrates to the very depths of the human being whom it renews and re-creates by grace; on the other hand, its pervasive in-fluence reaches the entire extent of the human mystery. Between the mystery of the redemption and the mys-tery of creation there exists a profound unity, the link-ing bond of which is precisely the paschal event. The Father of Jesus is God the Creator; and the Son who is incarnated in Jesus is just as truly the One "through whom God created the world" (Heb 1:2). Moreover, if God sends His Son, He does so--it is the living tradition of the Church as expressed by Irenaeus--in order to save and to regain the fix'st creation that has been wounded by sin. The Resurrection is not simply a starting point, the ¯ dawning of eschatological times; it is above all the glorification of creation by the entry of a man (its King) into full participation in the Spirit of God. It is the ele-vation and exaltation of nature by the power of agape. For the Father does not give the resurrected Christ a new Body; He restores that Body of His that was born of Mary but now is flooded with divine gifts. He thereby lets us know--a point that we often forget--that His plan is a single one, that in Him there is not one plan as Creator and another plan as Redeemer with a clearcut distinction between them; there is only one plan of love that envelops all of human destiny. This, moreover, is the reason why baptism which opens the door to the world of grace is also the leavening pledge of the resur-rection of nature (Rom 6:5; 8:11; Eph 2:6). Paschal love--of which the Church is the instrument + + ÷' ÷ ÷ ~÷ J. M. R. Till~rd~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS --is, then, a love that is directed to the entire reality of the human condition and that refuses every form of selec- . tivity with regard to the makeup of the human existen-tial. In its ultimate finality it is eschatological in the sense that its overall concern is with leading man to the glory of the Parousia. Nevertheless, it is concerned with the human situation as this is realized here and now. For here and now God loves man; here and now His Father's heart wishes to give His creature the benefits of His in-finite love; here and now He wishes men to know that in spite of their misery they are loved by Him; and here and now He desires :that the world be infused with the re-creation and healing of nature provided by the Pasch of J~sus. More than this, God the Father desires that this love, immediately directed to the nature of man and seeking to heal sicknesses, to console the troubled, and to succor the poor, should be the atmosphere in which there shines forth the revelation of that other dimension of agape which opens on the joy of eternity. In other words, the eschatological aim of paschal love--the prom-ise and the hope of eternal liIe where .there will be "'no more wailing, no more crying,, no more pain" (Ap 21:4) --can be proclaimed and revealed only by the action of ecclesial charity on the miseries and .sufferings of this earthly life. Charitable action in the today and the tem-poral of the history of men is nothing less than the sacra-ment and the seal o[ paschal love. The Church can pro-claim and prepare the happiness of eternity only if she devotes herself to the .relief of the suffering of mankind. It is thereby--and theologians do not seem to have real-ized this in 'a realistic way--that'she sows in this world the first fruits of the world to come. But it should not be thought that what has just been stated is only the reasoning of a theologian. To be con-vinced of this, it is sufficient to reflect with attention on the way in which Jesus realized His messianic vocation. If He fulfilled the figure of the Suffering Servant (glimpsed in the Servant of Yahweh Songs inserted in the Book of Isaiah), he did so not only by His death of ignominy but also by His pedagogy of mercy and.of tenderness (Is 42:!-7). He preached the gospel of salva-tion by "going about doing good" as Peter said to .Cor-nelius and his friends (Acts 10:38). And this good that He did consisted of simple acts of temporal mercy: healing the sick, consoling widows, giving food to the hungry, treating the poor with kindness, welcoming strangers without any attitude of segregation. The proclamation of the gospel was done in this way, and the death on the cross receives its significance only when situated in this climate which reveals th'at its finality is one o[ love and not of.power. And there are other manifestations of this. As a sign permitting John to judge of His messianic mission, Jesus in Matthew 11:2-6 offers His acts of love for the lowly and the poor, following in this the line traced by the prophecies of Isaiah: it is these acts that are the seal authenticating His vocation. In the merciful act of themultiplication of loaves performed out of pity for the needs of the persons who followed Him, Jesus according to John (6:1-66) reveals the profound mean-ing of the sacrament bf His .lbve, the Eucharist. In that case, once again, the act of temporal mercy, far from being merely an occasion allowing Jesus to speak about His doctrine, provides the climate and the atmosphere in which the proclamation of the Bread of life can burst forth. The gift of material bread and the Eucharist are not two acts artificially bracketed together; they are rather two expressions of the same thrust of agape as Paul well understood when he reproached the Corin-thians (1 Cor 11:17-33). Similarly, the washing of the feet (Jn 13:1-20) is not just a simple illustration of the commandment of charity and of the mutual service de-manded of the disciples; it is its seed. One last indica-tion can be given, one which it seems to us has not been sufficiently recognized: the holy women were the first proclaimers of the Resurrection simply because they were concerned to go early in the morning to give the Body of Jesus the care and the veneration that Jewish custom demanded--an act of humble mercy, but by doing it they became the first witnesses of the act par excellence of the mercy of the Father. We hope, then, that the importance of the above reflec-tions is understood. We do not intend to show here what John has so strongly emphasized; namely, that the frater-nal love of Christians among themselves is the sign of their belonging to Christ and thereby a witness to the power of agape. Our intention is to enable one t.o grasp that mercy shown towards all men, whether Christians or not, is the atmosphere which envelops and normally authenticates the gospel proclamation. In other words, we wish to throw light on the fact that we can bring men the good news only if at the same time and in the name of this good news we concretely show men that we love them "not in words, but in deeds--genuinely." For in the humility of their object these acts are the sacrament in which should gradually appear their infinite originat-ing source with its promise of eternal happiness. But this is an eternal happiness that does not permit flight from the suffering of the present but that, on the contrary, involves itself with that suffering in order to sow there already the seeds of eschatological joy. Once again, it is through the experience of the visible and the tangible that God slowly leads mankind to faith in the invisible; ÷ ÷ ÷ Religious Women VOLUME 25, 1966 ÷ 4. ÷ ]. M. R. Tillard, O.P. REVIEW'FOR RELIGIOUS 6 by the visible dimension of His chitrity H~ leads them to faith in the folly of His, agape." it is when seen in this light that the apostolic actii, ity of religious women of the active life receives its evangeli-cal meaning. Properly speaking, theirs is not the task of preaching the gospel wffh authority: this. fl6ws from the hierarchical function to which they do not have access. Neither are they like militant lay people wiih a inandate to take charge of a milieu and graduMly conduct it to Christ; although these religiohs women are essentially members of the laity, they pertain to a special form 'of lay life officially recognized by the Church and deter-mined by t.h'e directi;c~s of their constitutions which fix the quality of their mandate. Here we should note the confusion that so.me pastors and even some theologians cause by more or le~s fissimilating the life of religious women to that of secular institutes, basing themselves in this. only on canonical texts. Briefly, religious women of the active life do not ordinarily form a part of.what is called the direct apostolate. Nevertheless, they play an essential role in the work of evangelization. For by their day-to-day charitable activity officially done in the name of the Church it is they who assure the gospel of the atmosphere of mercy,, the importance of which we have shown. For. this activity to bear all its fruit, it is evidently necessary that it be disinte~:ested, that motives of the financial interest and of the material prosperity of the community should not take precedence over the apostolic anguish arising from love for men. Let us admit that in this matter there is often room for considerable con-version, especially in countries where religious commu-nities conduct their institutions without any outside con-trol. But under the p.retext of real abuses, one should not make a wholesale condemnation without any distinc-tions. By her religious women the Church creates the visible dimensidn of charity ~which according to the law of the divine pedagogy is an integral part of the work of evangelization. And let us add that their vows add to the activity of sisters an element which married or non-reli-gious militants do not have. For sisters are those who have freely given up human values as fundamental as those of nuptial and motherly love, of the possession of a certain level of comfort; and they have done this in order to give themselves more completely to the universal love of men. Thanks to them if they are faithful to their vocation, poor themselves and hence totally transparent garriers of the love of the Father--the Church is able to reply .to those who question her mission: "Look around and see: the blind see, the lame Walk, lepers are healed, the deaf hear., and the good news is proclaimed to the poor" (Mt 11:4-6). Far from being an obstacle to the evangeli-zation of the world, are not these religious, on the con-trary, its advance troops? Day after day they plough the fields in which the hierarchy sows the word and where other lay people lend support to the testimony of the love of the Father. In a word, these religious ~ire the sign of the love of the Father for poor mankind slashed by suffering. The Action o[ Religious Women and Its Relation to the Action o[ the Hierarchy O~icially--and it is told him from the day of his con-secration-- the bishop is charged in a special way with the love of the poor, the suffering, and the lowly of his churches. He is not simply the functionary which man), imagined him to be before Vatican Council II; he has the vocation of a father. And this implies that his heart is anguished by the suffering of his people. But to discharge this duty (and he will have to r(nder account of it on the day of judgment), he cannot rely only on his own powers and his own initiative. Here, as everywhere in his pastoral action, he must act in com-munion with lay people. This does not mean that he seeks to utilize the energies of the latter for the profit o~ his own projects and plans (this would be clericalism). On the contrary, he labors to arouse and nourish in them a conscientious and realistic grasp of the heavy responsibility that, not as pastors but as baptized brothers of Christ, they also have with regard to the concrete exercise of the charity of God in the midst of the needs of their fellow men, especially of those who suffer. For it is the Church as such, in the living union of its leaders and its faithful, which must radiate the paschal love of the Father. No one. can dispense himself from this law of his baptismal grace. Nevertheless, all are not called to live it out in the same fashion: there are special places in the Body of Christ, and even within the laity chari-table action can diversify itsell: in a number of ways. One of these ways will retain our attention here. It will be recalled that at the beginning of this article, it was said that all active communities of women find their definitive finality in the exercise of the works of mercy. But why is this? The answer to this question will intro-duce us into the very heart of ecclesiology. Let us recall that the mystery of the Pasch takes place not over and beyond creation but in it. The former is not the destroyer of the latter; on the contrary, it saves and elevates it. This is why all created values should hormally become paschal values. Accordingly, the gifts of nature considered in the light of the Resurrection appear as graces, primary and structural graces which 4- + + Religious Wdmen VOLUME 25~ 1966 7 ÷ ÷ ]. M. R. Tillard, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 8 find their true meaning only in the Church. Everything human, then, is grace; and hence everything human as such should allow itself to be swept along by the power of paschal love. But in the human as it is concretely and existentially realized the differentiation of the sexes, plays a central role, and to ignore it would be a grave matter. Sexuality is not simply an exterior ~nd accidental wrapping cover-ing a common reality: it penetrates to the deepest mys-tery of man and woman and gives a positive determina-tion to that mystery. Each sex has a positive value that it alone is able to accomplish because sex modalizes the human along a given line. Sex, it is true, carries with it the entire essence of the human being so that nothing which defines and situates the latter will be absent from the one sex when it is in the other. Nevertheless, each human sex is under its own proper, unique, and ir-replaceable mode. In the man the human being is mas-culinity, in the woman it is femininity. And it cannot be in the man without being masculinity nor in the w~man without being femininity. Hence, the act of knowIedge, the act of joy, the act 0f love, the act of giving self are all in the man and in the woman but under a mode proper to each. The same is true of the act of pertaining to the Church of God and the act of serving the gospel. Hence the gift of self for the radiating of paschal love passes through masculinity and femininity. These represent the two positive and complementary values of the human through which the love of the Father sacramentalizes it-self. Man (the male) is above all power. He is power in the gift of physical life, he is also power in the domination of the world. In him cold reason dominates intuition. He structures, he legislates, he constructs, and he judges everything with a certain rigor. He likes to dominate, and his physical strength allows him to do.so. Accord-ingly, his proper collaboration with the agape of the Father is better exercised in an institutional ministry as leader of the community, as pastor, as legislator. But the woman is above all offering, appeal to communion, open transparency to the other. She is characterized by meraory and constantly sharpened intuition more than by logical rigor and deductive reason. She is made to receive love (as a bride) and to permit it to be fecund (by motherhood). She is heart rather than dry intelligence, tenderness and compassion rather than justice and sever-ity. She completely tends to the gift of herself in a con-stant care of little things, in the exercise of a delicacy and a kindness that sow joy. She puts flowers in the house and she sings songs. For her this is no waste, and she should not feel frustrated at not possessing what the opposite sex possesses. On the contrary, all this is her wealth; and this wealth is worth as much as that of the male. Accordingly, her proper contribution to the dif-fusion of paschal love should also quite simply assume this morphological, physical, and psychological constitu-tion which makes her what she is. She consecrates her-self especially to the dimension of temporal and spiritual mercy, of tenderness for the poor and the little--to the dimension which we mentioned above as the sign of the gospel Let us add that she alone can do this with per-fection: it is her charism. To say this is not to imply a right to the hierarchical priesthood which would thus be violated. Ther6 is no question here of such a right but of the assumption of the true quality of her being for the service of the gospel. Diversity of functions in no way signifies diversity in dignity. The charity finality of active religious women, then, appears to us to respond to the realism of the incarna-tion of grace in human nature. In our opinion it is one of the signs of the fact that the supernatural respects and saves the natural. Femininity as such with its own proper chdracteristics and its own special tendencies is thus assumed for the sake of the gospel. The motherhood of the Churcl~ cannot be better expressed. But it is necessary to go even further in our reflection. For by a special title the bishop links to himself this special charitable activity of religious women. They re-ceive from him a quasi-mandate, similar to that of the members of catholic action although it is specifically different. This gives to their commitment an official note: they face the. world as the ones officially responsible for the fidelity of the local church to the paschal com-mand of love for the lowly and the poor. It is, of course, to be clearly understood that they are not the only ones with the duty to radiate this agape just as the members of catholic action are not the only ones to give testimony to Christ in their milieu of life. Nevertheless, for reli-gious women this mission is more pressing for they re-ceive it "quasi ex officio": their entire life should be consumed so that, thanks to them, the Church may exist in an act of love and of mercy in the face of the sufferings of the world. The judgment that the world will pass on the quality of the local church on this point depends preeminently upon them. The bishop links himself to them in a notably special way in order that there might be assured the love of the poor which he is charged to maintain in a living and genuine way in his diocese. This is their ministry. And thereby it is seen how they are inserted into the pastoral work of the Church: they represent a chosen group to whom the one responsible for the ecclesial life of the diocese entrusts the ministry of + + + Religious Women VOLUME 25, 1966 9 ÷ 1. M. R. T~ltard, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 10 charity. Hence they are not situated at the fringe of apostolic action; on the contrary, though not pertaining to the hierarchy, they fulfill one of the essential func-tions of the life of the People of God, for, as we have previously pointed out, charitable action forms the at-mosphere of the proclamation of the gospel. This perspective seems to us to be able to restore the breath of the gospel to the life of many communities that are too shriveled up within themselves and that do not perceive with enough clarity the implications of their mission. Overly orientated toward the perspective of the individual perfection of their members--and this individual perfection is clearly not contradicted by what we have said---, they forget that they are supposed to create in the world an evangelical sign within which the gospel can be proclaimed in all truth. It seems to us to be a serious matter when religi6us women vowed to charity feel that "they are outside of apostolic action," that "they are restricted to an activity of secondary im-portance when the world has such a great need of apos-tles," that "they are condemned to works of filling in for others." In such cases the question must be asked whether such religious institutions do not have need of a great movement of "conversion." The Charitable Action of Religious Women and the Needs of the Church Today There is one fact that has heavy consequences for the problem to be considered in this section: most of the religious congregations vowed to works of charity were founded at a period when the State accomplished nothing or almost nothing for the relief of human misery. In this matter the Church played an evangelical role of arousal and took the lead of the movement of mercy in the name of Christ. But today (at least, in the Western world and in the large socialist countries) the State--with the im-mense means that it often has--is occupied with tasks such as the care of the sick and of the old, the education of the young, the use of leisure, the rehabilitation of certain categories of men and women; for all of this per-tains to its area of competency. In this new situation, do religious still have a place? One thing is clear. Wherever religious parallel public institutions and retain their own ~schools, hospitals, or-phanages, it is necessary that these latter, if they are to remain a sign of the gospel, be distinguished less by the size of their activity than by their quality. Between a religious establishment and other institutions there should normally be perceived a difference with regard to respect for persons and to the attention given to them and also with regard to availability, tact, and commitment. A Catholic hospital, for example, should not be distin-guished from a non-religious hospital only by the fact that it affords a certain climate of prayer, easy access to the sacraments, and the assistance of a chaplain. It is further necessary ~that the very way of treating the physical sufferings be marked with the seal of the Spirit which, as St. Paul says, is "love, joy, peace, good temper, kindliness, generosity, fidelity, gentleness, selbcontrol" (Gal 5:22). This should be so much the case that a non- Christian who is being cared for there should feel him-self enwrapped with the love of God. When an officially Christian institution is no longer capablewthe reasons may be diverse---of giving this evangelical witness, then today it no longer has any reason for existing; and its continuance in existence is a counter-witness. It is clearly evident in our day that even in the institu-tions that belong to them religious women cannot carry out all the functions required of them for the welfare of those who come to them; they have need of auxiliaries and of employees. Moreover, it is frequently the State that confides to a given community the charge of an establish-ment of which the State remains the owner and for which at times it chooses the personnel who are to assist the sisters. This is a situation that at times creates suf-ficiently bizarre conditions. But in any case it increases the apostolic responsibility of the community: the com-munity in such a case has the duty of radiating the power of agape also into the active body of workers of the establishment. This stems from the fact of having taken charge of a milieu in order to flood it with the values of the gospel. This is a genuine apostolic activity bearing fruit on three levels: the personnel to whom the true demands of charity are gradually disclosed; the repercus-sion of this conscience attitude on the action of'these men and women; and those who are its beneficiaries. There is infinite need for tact and for suppleness, for complete openness, and for the absence of all proselytism. It is equally necessary that the community should never forget its primary purpose: the manifestation of the mercy of God for the poor, for the little, for those who suffer. In the case of a group of sisters working in com-mon in an institution (this is the only case we are consid-ering here), this situation restores to the community the meaning of its apostolic vocation, imposes on it a perpetual revision of life, strengthens the bonds of fra-ternal love, and compels it to achieve a state of radical transparency with regard to the gospel. For it feels itself being constantly judged in actual situations in the. close and common work of daily labor. And in the community it is the Church that is being judged. And I would say that the Church is being judged more in such a case ÷ ÷ ÷ Religious Women VOLUME 25, 1966 11 I. M. R. Tillard, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS than it would be in cases where militants of catholic ac-tion work in the same circumstances and in the same milieu. The vows--especially that of poverty the apos: tolic value of which must some day be restudied in depth. .--indicate that the community has chosen to act exclu-sively for the kingdom of God and not at all for any earthly ~;ellbeing however limited it may be. In. the com-munity, then, men expect to find a delineation of the Church. Hence let us emphasize that far from decreasing the charitable finality of religious institutes, the situation in which religious must work with non-religious actually extends it: the community must not only work itself for the service of love but it must also lead others to act in the same way and under the same explicit motivation. Nevertheless, "today's circumstances are constantly obliging us to think more and more of another way of exercising this mihistry of mercy. In this case the com-munity as such does not take charge of a given institu-tion. Each sister in accord with her professional com-petence is employed wherever she finds-a position corresponding to the specific end of her congregation. Dur-ing the day, then, the community is dispersed, each of the .religious going to her own place of work. There, in com-munion with the militants whom she may find there, each sister in her work tries to be both an instrument of the charity,of God and an active leaven within the laity arousing them to the call of the gospel. Unlike the preced-ing case, she does not pertain to a group performing as such a given function in the establishment. She is sim-ply an employee on the same footing as the rest, and her personal competence is the only reason for her holding the position that she occupies. In accomplishing her work she is not immediately attached to a group of religious working at her side. She is alone. Often she is in an indifferent "milieu, even in one agitated by forces hostile to the Church. It is there that the. Lord asks her to live her vocation as a religious vowed to the exercise of mercy and to do so through the quality of her work and in the network of social bonds that she creates with the men and women who are around her. _ This is a difficult and complex situation. The religious must not lose sight of the primary end of her institute which is charitable work itself. Hence, her central pre-occupation must not deviate from this central point of a direct and immediate relationship with a'man or a woman or a child to be cared for, educated, or aided in some fashion. She is not primarily sent to lead a militant life after the fashion in which Christians of catholic action act. Her mandate is another one, although---and we will return to this--like all the baptized she also has the duty of becoming leaven in her milieu. Let us not forget what we have developed above at length: in the name of Christ and of the Church the bishop has en-trusted to her in a special way the responsibility of radiating charity under the form of mercy, compassion, gentleness, and tenderness in the face of the sufferings and needs of human beings. She must above all seek this: that through her actions (materially resembling those performed by her non-believing neighbor) there may pass the entirely slaecial quality that the love of Christ Himself infuses into human activity. This is not easy, we admit. But if she does not do this, then she no longer responds to what the Church specifically expects from her for the sake of the gospel. And in this case through her defect something essential is lacking to the life of the local church; an entire dimension of the mystery of Christ is veiled; men and women will not experience the sweet-ness of the God and Father of Jesus. At first sight this function may appear to be less efficacious and less direct than the fact of militant action in a milieu for the sake of sowing the gospel message; than the fact of sharing in the struggles and the anguishes of the other employees and of thereby working for their liberation. Nevertheless, her function is just as necessary from an evangelical point of view. She responds to a ministry that is essential to the Church and that completes and consummates that of the other militants. For it is a question of a different form of action of the same love, of a mandate obliging her in communion with that of the militants to make the visage of Christ appear in the small part of mankind entrusted to the bishop for salvation. Hence, in the con-crete circumstances of her action the religious must always subordinate the other forms of her apostolic activity to her charitable function. It is easy to see in this kind of situation the new im-portance taken by what is called the common life. When she returns to her community, the sister should find the spiritual and loving atmosphere that permits her to reground her forces, to nourish herself with the gospel, and to judge her activity in open dialogue with her superiors and her fellow sisters. The hours that she passes each day in the milieu charged with providing her the means to grow in her union with the Lord must not become for her a heavy load encumbered with a multi-tude of oral prayers and with confusedly arranged exer-cises. Neither must it appear in her eyes merely as a slack period offering a little leisure. What it should exactly be is difficult to say. But it is clear that the essential should be an atmosphere of true prayer, of simple and loving joy. The witness of charity is so often dissipated by fatigue and by nervous tension that there should be a strong reaction against everything (even those things ÷ ÷ ÷ Religious Women VOLUME 25, 1966 ÷ ÷ ÷ J. M. R. Tiilard, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ]4 clone under the pretext of devotions or of ancient cus-tom) which irritates the sisters. And it would be good if superiors, would re'member that to work to create in their houses an unpressured spiritual atmosphere is the first service that they themselves can give to charity. Up to this point we 'have reflected only on the exercise by religious women of their ministry of charity in the usual situation of the Church today. NOW it is necessary to ask two questions which more and more appear to us to be urgent: Should not religious women be more in-timately and immediately associated with the matter of pastoral reflection, their charisms between taken into equal count in this area? And can not their participation in the ordinary pastoral ministry be enlarged? Before answering the first question, we must frankly remark that up to now the Church has been contented to ~ttilize the charitable action of religious women and has manifested a certain suspicion with what they might be able to contribute to pastoral reflection itself. Our present day pastoral has been elaborated by r.elying almost exclusively on the qualities proper to the mascu-line sex. This can be attributed to various causes: to the fact that according to tradition access to hierarchical orders is reserved to men; to the fact that in the West the Church's ministers are celibates and thereby inclined to mistrust women; and above all to the fact that our civilization has not yet considered with sufficient serious-ness what is represented at the heart of the human mys-tery by the genius proper to ~oman. We are just begin-ning to awaken on this point; and the awakening is often accompanied by certain feel.ings of revindication and of aggression so that it can become dangerous and entirely lose its meaning. Up to now pastoral thought has had the tendency to see everything frdm the masculine View-point as 'if the masculine sex alon~ represented the human or as i~and this is still more serious--it were the human ideal to which the feminine should conform it-self in order to attain any real value. Hence, the con-stant temptation of pastors has been (and often still remains) to consider religious women on.ly as so many servants to be smiled at from the vantage point of the superiority complex of the strong sex and to,be employed at.will in any kind of work; and they have not sufficient.ly considered them as women capable of perceiving with the penetration proper to their sex precise objectives that escape masculine psychology and as capable of grasping with an original insight of their own the con-sequences of certain decisions. This points seems to us to be a very serious one. It seems necessary to us that the Church be converted in this matter. This does not mean that the Church. should admit religious women to a priestly ordination as some persons are beginning to maintain basing themselves exclusively on arguments of rights to be redressed and of sexual egalitarianism. But it means that the Church should become conscious of the irreplaceable contribn-ti0n of feminine thought and that she should associate sisters more closely with the effort of investigation, judgment, and criticism that is needed for the ordering of the pastoral activity of a diocese, How is this to be done? It would take too long to treat this in a detailed and precise manner, Nevertheless, let us remark that it cannot be a question only of a consul-tation taking the natnre, as it were, of feeling the pulse of the situation but without passing beyond the stage of the preliminary. The charism of the hierarch~ demands thatiit al~vays act in communion with the laity, men and Women. The ultimate decision is without a doubt that of the leaders, a typical act of their own proper p.astoral judgment. Nevertheless, it should be born of a delibera-tion in which the laity are involved as much as the clergy in a frank confrontation of viewpoints and in a common sharing of apostolic perceptions and of dif-ferent psychologies. There is no qnestion here either of demagogy or of feminism; it is simply a utilization of different vocations and of different charisms in an at-mosphere of authentic communion. And this seems to us to be the meaning of authority in the Church of God,. It is rare that a pastoral decision is a purely hierarchical creatior~. It is most often nothing else than an assump-tion by the hierarchy--thereby bestowing the weight of its authority and the guarantee of its charism--of a perception arising among the laity who are plunged, into the experience of the real and then thought about, reflected upon, and discussed by their pastors. Moreover, from the viewpoint of kingly power the grace of orders ~is more a grace of prudential judgment than that of intuition. Invention comes above all from the periphery, from the precise point where the Church is in contact with the realism of the human situation. In this way, then, the grace of the laity penetrates even to.the inner nature of the pastoral function. Among the laity we place in a special rank not only the militants of catholic action but also the religious women who are 9fficially devoted to the ministry of charity. At one and the same time they are women--hence they can voice the neces-sary feminine viewpoint--and they are involved in the sufferings of human beings, knowing not only the latter's complexities and temptations but also their riches. If it is true--as we have shown above--that the ministry of charity is bound up essentially with the gospel and repre-sents a fi'ont line force of ecclesial action, then it seems in-÷ + ÷ Religious Women VOLUME 25, 1966 15 -b ÷ J. M. R. Tillard, O;P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 16 conceivable to us that religious women should not be fully associated with the work of apostolic reflection that is p]'erequired for all authentic pastoral action. Moreover, why (and this is our second question) could they not receive in certain circumstances (always in dependence on the bishop, rightly understood) the entire responsibility for the organization of the entire chari-table apostolate of a diocese? In the collection of various areas which we group indistinctly under the name "pas-toral activity," is this not one of the numerous domains where women are more naturally competent than men? Why must a member of the clergy always be the head of every diocesan activity? At a time when we com-plain about the lack of priests and exhaust ourselves in imagining the outcome of this situation, it would seem logical to begin by reflecting on our theology of pastoral action and by asking whether as victims of the sin of clericalism, we have not permitted the atrophying of apostolic energies, among them those of religious women. A number of initiatives, undertaken especially in mission countries, show that urgent necessities are obliging the Church to a profound evolution on this point. The right is conceded to religious women to perform certain acts which up to now custom has linked with the person of the priest: they can distribute Communion, take charge of the liturgical assembly on Sunday, and catechize. The somewhat "sensational" cases should not rivet attention on themselves and thus prevent the Church from per-ceiving the numerous, more ordinary forms of activity which she can officially leave to the genius and the con-science of religious women. We have mentioned here the pastoral work of charity, but the same reasons would be valid for the organization of catechetical activity (on the condition that the sisters in charge be truly com-petent and not content themselves, as too often happens, with a hastily acquired and thin layer of catechetics) and for certain aspects of pastoral activity with regard to the family. A few minutes ago we mentioned the example of the women who set out at dawn to embalm the Body of the Lord and become the first witnesses of His Resurrection. Entirely like Mary, the woman who was the first witness of His Incarnation, they are the witnesses of the silent and hidden activities of God which are, nevertheless, His most fundamental ones. Is not woman even on the physi-cal level the first witness and the first receiver of human life as it comes into existence in secret? There is in this a mysterious harmony, sign of a providential vocation. This vocation is accomplished in the Christian bride whose femininity becomes grace and salvation for her husband and their children. It is accomplished in the contempla- tive nun hidden in silence and burning out her life for the Church. It is also accomplished in the religious woman of the active life who bends over human misery to bring it the most perceptible sign of the tenderness of God. The Christian woman has the marvelous and irre-placeable task of becoming the living sign of the Church as Bride and Mother. It is necessary that our pastoral awaken to this vocation of theirs and respect it for the glory of the gospel and the salvation of the world. + VOLUME 25, 1966 17 JOSEPH FICHTNER, O.S.C. Metanoia or Conversion Joseph Fichthe.r, O.S.C., teaches at Crosier House of Studies; 2620 East Wallen Road; Fort Wayne, Indiana 46805. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 18 Since we religious are living .in an age of Chuich re-newal and reform, we can ask ourselves the question: What are we contributing to this movement? Is the movement likely to succeed if we merely let ourselves passively be swept up into it? Religious orders have a precedent of active participation in the many past Church reforms. They can take their cue from a fairly long list of orders who, somehow or other, were in-strumental in either initiating renewal and reform or carrying them through. Perhaps the most famous instance of a religious order undertaking reform of its monastic life and thereby lead-ing the way to full-scale Church reform is that of the Cistercians. As Father George H. Tavard, A.A., already pointed out in a lecture to major superiors at Den-ver, July 1, 1964, the Lorraine and Cluniac monastic re-forms spearheaded the whole Gregorian reform within the Church 0050-1200). St. Bernard wrote De consider-atione, a pattern of reform for Pope Eugenius III to use upon the administration of the Roman See. In the thir-teenth century, the mendicant movement of Franciscan and Dominican Friars coincided with the reforms of the Fourth Lateran Council and of Pope Innocent III. It is a fact of Counter-Reformation history that the Jesuits with their military structure and educational purpose and the Capuchins with their simplicity and austerity of life implemented the Trentine reform. This historical precedent comes closer to home when we recall that the canons regular followed in the wake of the Gregorian reform, when, for the first time in history, the idea of reform spread to the whole Church. Charles Dereine, S. J., noted how the canons regular helped to revive eremitical life in the thirteenth century,x The eremitical life did not last long among them because it was encroached upon by lay people, especially the conversi, who looked to the eremitical 1 Les chanoines reguliers au DiocOse de LiOge avant saint Norbert (Louvain~ University of Louvain, !952). groups for spiritual guidance and help (cura ani-marum). At their beginnings, after the example of their leaders was sufficient rule, the groups fell under the influence of the Rule of St. Augustine. But the choice of the Augustinian Kule, whenever it was made, engendered a delicate problem of conscience. Should the charter members adopt the canonical customs then in use or return to the primitive ideal of austerity and poverty? This was the step of capital importance in canonical reform. Carolingian law had granted the canons the right of abandoning private property in order to lead an apostolic life. A few groups opted for the new order (ordo horus in contrast to the ordo antiquus), a way of life which was more austere especially in the matter of poverty. Their option was vitally important, if not difficult, in an age of canonical reform. They had the alternative of affiliating themselves with Cistercian communities. I mention this bit of past history because obviously it stands parallel to our own day. Religious are now in a position to maintain the status quo (which eventually will die and decay); to merge with other religious groups who have similar constitutions, customs, and spirit, or at least associate with them in apostolic works (and this is a conciliar recommendation); or to forge ahead with the Church. It is essential for religious today to recognize and evaluate their role within the context of the Christian life. To fail to do so is to become purposeless and nondescript. They can only begin to reform if they knew beforehand why and how and what and whom they are to renew and reform. One of the aims listed for the present reform, in fact the first on the list, is "to impart an ever increasing vigor to the Christian life of the faithful." s Religious must count themselves among the faithful because of their consecration to God through baptism. Over and above baptism, the profession of the evangelical vows is a super-addition to that consecration . It is indeed a special consecration which per-fects the former one, inasmuch as by it, the follower of Christ totally commits and dedicates himself to God, thereby making his entire life a service to God alone.¯ The role of the religious, then, particularly iri a time of spiritual renewal and reform, is to bear witness for the Church socially and publicly by a way of life which "radiantly shines forth" and shows that "the kingdom ¯ Constitution on the Liturgy, n. 1. ¯ Pope Paul VI, dllocution on Religious Life, May 25, 1964. 4- 4- Cor~erslon VOLUME 25~ 1966 ÷ ÷ Joseph Fi~htner, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS of Christ is not of this world." 4 They bear witness by means of the vows, the three signs "which can and ought to attract all the members of the Church to ~an effective and prompt fulfillment of the duties of their Christian vocation.''~ The Decree on Ecumenism dispels any doubt that vows constitute a mere external show; Church renewal demands a change of heart, a renewal of the inner life of our minds, self-denial and an unstinted love.e If religious are to have a leading role in renewing the Church, they must be in the vanguard of :that ',spiritual ecumenism" which amounts to a change of heart, holiness of life, and prayer. One of the characteristics of the present reform move-ment within the Church is the return to original sources, especially biblical and patristic. At the same time that the Church wants to update herself, she is taking a hard look backward at her beginnings. The very idea of reform conjures up the biblical theme of metanoia, repentance or conversion. Throughout salva-tion history, both under the Old and. New Testaments, God repeatedly issues a call to repentance. What re-newal and reform we are experiencing today fits into the biblical background ofmetanoia. The prophets of old--Amos, Hosea, Jeremiah, Ezekiel --were reformers. They called upon the people of Israel. wandering away from Yahweh to "turn back" to him, to "repent." Here we have the original Hebrew notion of reform translated by the Septuagint but especially by the New Testament into the Greek metanoia. A few examples will have to suffice. The prophet Amos enumerates the natural calamities which befall Israel for its sins; and then he quickly adds almost like a refrain: "Yet you returned not to me, says the Lord" (4:6, 8, 9, 10, 11). "In their*affliction [Hosea is speaking for Yahweh], they shall look for me: 'Come, let us return to the Lord, for it is he who has rent, but he will heal' us; he has struck us, but he will bind our wounds' " (6:1). "Perhaps," writes Jeremiah, "when the house of Judah hears all the evil I have in mind to do to them, they will turn back each from his evil way, so that I may forgive their wickedness and their sin" (36:3). Ezekiel adds the note that the Israelites must make for themselves "a new heart and a new spirit" (18:31). The general prophetical teaching was that Israel, having personally sinned against the Lord, should per-sonally repent. Return to Yahweh meant that Israel should be orientated toward Yahweh and His will be-cause He is its God. Basic to repentance .was the de- ¯ Paul VI, ~lllocution on Religious LiIe. ~ Constitution on the Church, n. 44. e Decree on Ecumenism, n. 7. mand that Israel direct its whole existence to God and unconditionally accept Him in all events. To repent was to obey His will, to trust Him absolutely and be cautious about human help (alliances with other na-tions). Repentance had both a positive and negative aspect to it. By returning to Yahweh Israel would take up a new direction but likewise turn away from evil. Real repentance must be an inner renewal, a renewal of life, which is not possible without divine assistance. When we turn to the" New Testament, we find that it retains the past teaching on metanoia but lends empha-sis here and there. There seems to be more insistence upon the positive and interior aspect, that of changing one's mentality, attitude, feeling. Metanoia supposes error in conduct, repentance for past fault, and a con-version of one's whole person to a way willed by God in order to. ready oneself for entrance into His kingdom. Baptism, faith, repentance, love, poverty of spirit, all enter into the nature of metanoia. Metanoia requires personal responsibility coupled with the gift of God. John the Baptist was the first to take up the prophetic cry: "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand" (Mt 3:2; Mk 1:4). The cry, however, is more categorical because given in view of an eschatological revelation. Conversion is for everybody; it must be authentic, a change of nature from within. Jesus too preaches con-version: "Repent and believe in the gospel"; "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand" (Mk 1:15; Mt 4:17). But he goes beyond the Baptist in realizing the eschatological kingdom in His own Person. The purpose of His mission is to bring repentance: "I have not come to call the just, but sinners, to repentance" (Lk 5:32). The. metanoia which Jesus proclaims is really the will of God, a salvific way of life. One enters into such a way of life by converting or changing into a different man (see Mt 18:3). The close tie between monastic reform and the re-form of the entire Church was never better envisioned than by the early Church fathers. In fact, it is possible to trace historically a progression of the idea of reform from what concerns the individual Christian to monastic life and to the universal Church. The idea of reform became effective as a supra-individual force at a rather early date, particularly in monasticism. Within monasti-cism itself there has been a whole series o1: reforms. Today we tend to apply reform first of all to social entities and institutions rather than to individuals. How effective such a sweeping measure can be, remains to be seen. For a broad, ecclesiastical pattern of reform, follow-ing upon the principles already laid down in the Scrip-÷ ÷ ÷ owoersion VOLUME 25, 1966 21 + ÷ ÷ Joseph Fichtner, O.S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS tures, we have to resort to patri~tic writings. It is impossible, o[ course, to go into anything like a complete survey of their writings, but one can at least gain a few insights from Gerhart B. Ladner's~ monumental work,' The Idea o[ Reform.~ I am indebted to him fo~ the following all-too:brief summary. Ladner draws this definition of reform from Scriptural and patristic sources: "the idea of [ree, intentional and ever perfectible, multiple, prolonged and evdr repeated efforts by man to reassert and augment values pre-existent in the spiritual-material compound of the world." The Greek fathers generally regarded reform as a return to paradise. Baptism begins this reform because it is a return to innocence. Because innocence is often lost and because baptism is unrep~atable, reform is mostly postbaptismal, a long process of many starts. If man is to reform himself, he has to make a conscious pursuit of ends. He starts with an intention rather than with spontaneity or urge or response. The key feature then of Greek patristic reform ideology was the return to a state of innocence through a. continual spiritual regeneration. Man has to be reconditioned into a state equivalent to his original state. Gregory of Nyssa in particular, with his mystical bent, accounted for this development of the Pauline.theme of the "new creature" and "new creation." Now the question, how is man to be renewed, brings us to a consideration of the' second salient feature of reform ideology, a feature found mostly among the writings of the Latin fathers. They proposed that man who originally was made in the image of God should be reformed according to and in the image of God (Christ). Although the early fathers felt that reform meant a withdrawal from the world rather than a penetration of it, or at least a juxtaposition of the sacred and the profane, and hence relied upon monasticism to bring about reform, the idea gradually dawned that the whole Church should undergo reform. St. John Chrysostom, St. Augustine, and St. Hilary of Poitiers were of the earlier mentality. Then under Gregory VII, the idea of reform began to envelop the Church as a whole, and finally Innocent III and Thomas Aquinas extended it to entire Christendom, to the political, socio-economic, and ~ultural milieu which the Church helped to form or in-fluence. Implicit in this idea was the re-imaging of man not only individually but socially. Reforming man to the image-likeness of God was the inspirational idea behind ~Gerhart B. Ladner, The Idea o[ Re[orm (Cambridge: Harvard, 1959). all the reform movements in early and medieval Christianity. A third renewal theme, for which St. Augustine was mainly responsible, was that of the kingdom of God. St. Augustine, ,however, had such a high opinion of the Church as the kingdom of God upon earth which was on its way to becoming the heavenly kingdom that he refused to see any need of its reform. That is why he formulated the idea of the City of God which permits into its environs both sinners .and saints until the sin-ners are weeded out at the-parousia. He and Tertullian (before his defection from the Church) struck a more positive and futuristic note by teaching a' renewal for the better. For Augqstine in particular, fourth century Pelagianism was an occasion to take stock of the ideology of reform. Pelagianism represented a reform movement based upon the belief that man can reform himself and the world on his own. Contrariwise, Augustine fought against the temptation of relaxing personal effort and simply trusting in God. His intention was to strike a balance between God's grace and man's will. Reliance upon God and personal responsibility must go together in order to attain the kingdom of God. In the Christian East and West while the Church was building up, the need was ever felt for individual and social reform. But who was to initiate it? ,Only special members and organisms within the Church's body, namely, monasticism. The East and West differed not merely in reform ideology; they differed too in their attitude toward monastic life. The Greeks leaned strongly toward contemplation, the Latins toward the active life of charity for God and man. The western-minded Augustine mapped out a program of reform for monastic and quasi-monastic life for clerics and lay-people. Such was the principal and practical way in which he wished reform to be carried into effect. The monk-priests and laymen were to join together in the City of God to bring about a renewal for the better. ¯ It is evident from thi~ patristic perspective that re-newal and reform must take into account the past and present and future. If we look back over the condition of religious life since World War II, the thought strikes us. that religious institutes have been passing through a phase of de-velopment. Consciously or unconsciously, they have been engaged in a reform movement for almost twenty years. The movement seerhs to have begun officially with the first ~eneral congress 6f religious held in Rome near the close .of the Holy Year, 1950. At this meeting, on December 8th, Pope Pius XII delivered an allocution in + + + VOLUME 25, 1966 23 ÷ ÷ ÷ Joseph Fichtner, O$.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS which he outlined three reasons why religious should update themselves: For the changed c~nditions of the world which the Church must~ encounter, certain points of doctrine touching upon the status and condition of moral perfection, not to mention the pressing needs of the apostolic work which you have so widely and so generously undertaken, all these have called you to devote your-selves to this systematic study and discussion. The same reasons prompted the Sacred Congregation of Religious to summon the First National Congress of Religious of the United States at the University of Notre Dame, August 9-12, 1952. Part and parcel of the whole reform movement within the religious orders were the researches into their past histories. The studies in some instances may not have been altogether conclusive, but at least they pointed out lines of development. They put religious into a position where they have to either retain or reject the essentials of their past, paralleling the present-day Church reform which will not abandon the basic struc-ture of the Church, Religious have to decide what sort of growth they want', homogeneous or heterogeneous. To be or remain a homogeneous body, the religious insti-tute, as the schema De religiosis recommends, must faithfully retain its nature, purpose, special spirit, and sound tradition--everything which constitutes the patrimony of the institute. The historian John Tracy Ellis called attention to this necessity in his address to the Paulists on the occasion of the diamond jubilee celebration of St. Paul's College, Washington, D.C., January 25, 1965. In this era of change he advised "the parallel need of holding fast to a sense of history if we are to escape the consequences, of mere change for change's sake, of what I would call--if the term be allowed---the curse of 'presentism.' " The historical researches accomplished at least one thing: they gave the orders more or less a sense of identity. Erik H. Erikson, the psychologist, defined per-sonal identity as follows: The term identity expresses such a mutual relation in that it connotes both a persistent sameness within oneself (self-same-ness) and a persistent sharing of some kind of essential charac-ter with others. Although his definition fits personal identity, it is analogically applicable to the "moral persons" which re-ligious orders are. A sense of identity is most important for normal psychological and spiritual renewal. The man who cannot identify himself is either an amnesia victim or is ignorant or leads a schizophrenic existence. If young candidates entering a religious order cannot identify themselves with it because there is nothing to identify with, the more is the pity. As Pope Paul VI stated in his address to religious referred to above, the work of general chapters is to accommodate constitutions to "the changed conditions of the times"; but it must be done in such a wa~ that "the proper nature and discipline of the institute is kept intact." No renovation of discipline is to be intro-duced excepting what accords with "its specific pur-pose." Therefore, until this accommodation of discipline is duly processed and brought into .juridic effect, let the religious mem-bers not introduce anything new 0n their own initiative, nor relax the restraints of discipline nor give way to censorious crit-icism. Let them act in such a way that they might rather help and more promptly effect this work of renewal by their fidelity and' obedience. If the desired renovation takes place in this way, then the letter will have changed, but the spirit will have remained the same, in all its integrity,s The Pope certainly did not have in mind the ,idea of implementing constitutions to the point where they are voluminous, minutely detailed, and unlivable; for such constitutions can easily cramp the style of religious liv-ing. "Multiplicity of laws is not always accompanied by progress in religious life," remarked Pope Paul "It often happens that the more rules there are, the less people pay attention to them." 0 It is particularly irksome to men, and I suppose to women too, to be ruled by many minute prescriptions. But in the meanwhile; while the constitutions are under study or revision, it will not do to adopt or maintain "the practices which are dangerous to religious life, unnecessary dispensations, and privileges not properly approved" 10 which sap the strength of religious discipline. Is there a behavioral pattern, psychological and socio-logical, which religious can follow in order to promote metanoia for the present and into the future? Govern-ment and business have had psychological and socio-logical studies made to 'guide societies and institutions toward self-renewal. They have begun to understand the processes, reasons, and conditions for the growth and decline in societies.11 Of course we cannot accept the complete structure and dynamics of reform which they use; but they have been able to outline a good, comprehensive pattern of reform. The following, then, will be some explanation of the principles of self-renewal pertinent to religious orders. Religious orders s Paul VI, Allocution on Religious Life. 9 Paul VI, Allocution on Religious Life. 10 Paul VI, Allocution on Religious Life. 11 See John W. Gardner, Self-Renewal, the Individual and Inno. vative Society (New York: Harper and Row, 1963). VOLUME 251 1966 ÷ 4- 4. ]oseph Fichtner, O.~.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS cannot grow as supernatural cells within the body of the Church unless they accept whole-heartedly the natural (that is, psychological and sociological) dy-namics of growth. 1. A society that wishes to renew and reform itself must first of all know itself. It has a sense of identity. As religious we have, more or less, a self-image. Con-fusedly at least all of us have a picture in our minds of the ideal religious, namely, one who lives a Christlike life as distinct and unique. Now self-knowledge is not a still-life picture but a moving picture of self-develop-ment, a continual search for identity. Ordinarily we find knowing ourselves difficult and inconvenient. Yet the more we have a sense of identity, which we can learn in part from our tradition, the more it helps us to plan our future--what or who we want to become. Young members may at times rebel against a tradi-tional heritage, even if it is only the starting point of their rebellion. 2. This brings us to a second principle very closely allied to the first. Self-i.dentity is largely a matter of knowing our past and having continuity with it. Our present beliefs, attitudes, feelings, values arose out of earlier personality formation, earlier learning and ex-perience, all of which is most difficult to shake off. We are more inclined to trust tradition because we experi-enced it. Historians did us the favor of recalling the past and showing how evolution already took place in it. Historians help religious groups to achieve self-knowl-edge, and in this way they serve the cause of renewal. If religious were able to sustain renewal in the past, per-haps they can feel at home with it in the future. With-out ignoring their past, they are oriented to the future and will have a hand in shaping it. The tendency of a society with a past is twofold: to persist or to change. The two tendencies are not diametrically, opposed. In fact, it is wrong to oppose change to continuity; both must be given due emphasis, Our aim should be to endlessly interweave continuity with change. "The only stability possible is stability in motion." ~ Religious do nonetheless face the danger to-day of living in an age when the rate of change has sped up almost to leaving them in the dust. They can expand or grow or change so rapidly and wildly that it will be cancerous and kill the values they want to keep. 3. True religious see and share a vision of something worth saving. This vision is made up of all the motiva-tion, conviction, commitment, and values that give meaning to their life. Only if they believe in something Gardner, SelpRenewal, p. 7. can they change something for the better. Otherwise they will experience a failure of heart and spirit. The self-renewing religious will have something about which they are thoroughly convinced and about which they care so deeply that they will do something about it. Yet each one must beware of being egocentric about it. One little thing that he really cares about deeply, one little thing that he can do with zealous con-viction, gives him extra drive and enthusiasm. That is why long-term purposes or values or goals are so important for us. They have to be relatively lasting in order to determine the direction of change. Should they be fly-by-night visions and goals, they will not enable us to absorb them or do justice to them or will endanger a distinctive character and style of living. The mature religious has a religious commitment larger than himself. He has been given a religious goal not as an accomplished fact; his has to be a seeking and striving for the goal in an ever-renewing way. He will be happy in the s.triving, not necessarily in the attaining of that goal. Small victories will instill in him some satisfaction but never the idea that he has arrived, that his life is fulfilled, or that he can sit back and no longer feel the tension of self-renewal. All of us have built into our nature the hunger for meaningful, goals. They are as vital to our being as breathing. But in a sense we must breathe together. We can live together in a .religious community o.nly if we have some measure of consensus in regard to our goals, beliefs, values. We can come to some rough agreement among the many who share the same ideals. Haggling over details there will always be. No matter how pluralistic our community may be, variety and di-versity and spontaneity should not be allowed to inter-fere with at least a middle ground of ideals, goals, and visions. We do ourselves an injustice if we allow all sorts of individual values to conflict in a careless atmos-phere of freedom and then expect something good to come from them. Such a procedure is equivalent in economics to the false theory of laissez-faire. On the other hand, change for the better is brought about when socially or communally acquired and ap-proved ideals, convictions, goals change. In this way change takes place according to psychological and socio-logical laws. It is possible to change laws, the external marks of a society, without affecting the beliefs, prac-tices, and values of the members of that society. Men commonly live as they think; hence to change their life demands a conversion of their minds and hearts. Their life is bound to change if the set of ideas, feelings, and ÷ ÷ ÷ VOLUME 25, 1966 27 ÷ ÷ O.~.C, R~:VIEW FOR RELiGiOUS attitudes which the individual shhres with the members of the society changes. 4. Any renewal or reform, therefore, ought to be aimed at the individual or person. He must find himself in a ~ort of do-it-yourself movement. He must be free and independent enough, flexible and versatile enough, to be open to change. If he isolates himself from others within his group, if he fails to cross-fertilize with them, he will not change or grow. Anthropologists point out that .much cultural change comes about through bor-rowing from others. Karl Rahner makes the pointed remark in his book, Theology for Renewal: If anyone wants to have the Church changed, he must make himself the starring-point of renewal. For the crldc himself is part .of what the Church is suffering from. For usually his own life is not much of a recommendation for Christianity.~ The same remark may be applied to the religious critic. We are more prone to criticize others than to be self-critical. Each religious has personality traits which favor either change or persistence (conservatism), and no doubt many have a mixture of the two. A characteristic of the self-renewing religious is that he 'has a mutually fruitful rapport with others. He is capable of accepting and giving love and friendship. Without such love and friendship, the person enters into rigid isolation. The loving and friendly person depends upon others and can be depended upon. He discovers common tastes, interests, is accessible, and is willing to lend assistance. He makes others feel important. In so doing he is one of the many within a vibrant society who inculcate mutual trust, affection, and identification (as opposed to carping criticism, character asshssination, and envy). They are the cross currents through which his change for better is possible~ 5. Is there enough freedom in the religious way of life to allow for change? This question has to be asked because psychologists and, sociologists maintain that only a free society is open to inquiry, experimentation, and action. A society where reasonable room is left for personal taste, self-expression, and self-criticism, will grow. Its framework or structure is not such that it throttles thought and discussion of new ideas. Authori-tarian or bureaucratic or legalist.ic societies may not throttle thought and discussion but they tend to chan-nel and control them. Freedom, however, has to be balanced with some ~Karl Rahner, Theology ]or Renewal (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1964), p. 87. determinism within a society. No individual religious should expect to be left to run rampant, to do as and what he pleases. Freedom may result in license. Or it may alienate him from the community. A religious who is left reasonably free may achieve responsibility; but if he seeks too much autonomy he may end up with self-pride, an inflated ego, and not really fulfill himself at all. Every person has limitations and has to come to terms with his membership in the community at large. The social side of his nature should make him realize values which are grea~er than his individual needs. 6. Change and improvement usually spring up in a community that has felt-needs for them. Felt-needs are the beginning of any renewal and reform. So religious must examine their felt-needs. There can be no metanoia unless the community feels needs, and the needs have to be felt widely enough for the majority to do some-thing about them. The first task of renewal and reform is the always difficult task of facing up to ourselves. What gap do we find between the ideals we profess and the realities we practice? How far apart do our constitutions lie from their fulfillment? We have to give due credit to the prophetic and visionary eyes and minds among us who see and speak out against the unreality or even hy-pocrisy of religious life, to whatever degree they may exist. Young members, especially, who still have the ideals and goals fresh before them, can help the rest to an honest self-examination. We do them a good turn too by telling them that their task is to re-create values in their own conduct and not simply look at them idealisti-cally. We should assure each generation of religious that they have to refight the battle and inject new life into lasting ideals and goals. 7. No amount of organization, law-making, socializing will help a religious society to renew and reform unless men in it have the determination to 'foster renewal and reform. It is men who make up a society, not laws or regulations or structures. It is the personal environ-ment that makes for growth, for between the individual and his environment there takes place something like osmosis. If we do not set a pace by our ideals and ex-ample for incoming members, then they will believe little is expected of them. Of whom much is expected, the chances are that he will expect much of himself. If he is educated and motivated in an atmosphere that en-courages effort, sacrifice, selflessness, it is very likely that he will be affected greatly and respond mightily. We take it for granted that the young religious is a free and responsible individual. He will become in-creasingly responsible if we set up for him a meaning- VOLUME 25, 1966 29 Joseph Fichtner, O~.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ful relationship with larger and higher goals. We help him to free himself fr6m the "prison of utter selb preoccupation" by instructing and leading him to place himself in the free and willing service of these goals and the people aiming at them. In !religious life as well as in any other, family li~e' included, deeds speak louder than words~ Authentic religious conduct preaches a better lesson than 'any homily, sermon, conference, or instruction. None o~ us learns much from principles, but we do emulate people who are high-principled and exemplary. Ordinarily we do not analyze or list the virtues we wish to develop, unless it be during meditation; but we identify our-selves with the people who have virtue. That is why all of us~ young and old, need models in our imaginative life and in our immediate environment, models of what we at our best can be. At the risk of too much repeti-tion, it should be said that what we do communicates moral and spiritual values much more than what we say~ Words are cheap. Action calls for assuming burden-some and sacrificing responsibility. It is a summons to spiritual greatness. . ¯ 8. The danger in religious life is tO think we can progress morally and spiritually without changing psychologically, socially, culturally. Change for the better---evolution and not revolution or historic acci-dent- usually is a slow, complex, unpredictable, some-what risky and painful process. It does not happen by leaps and bounds; it takes time and hard effort. When practices change, they will not be acceptable evenly .throughout a whole community. Some will wel-come them, others resist them. So many factors and their interplay go into change for the better that they make change complex. And the complexity of a changing situation .brings with it a risk. It takes prudent analysis and prognosis to decide whether the risk is reasonably calculable. Members of a society who are "on their toes" and not living "in a rutV will forestall wild and revolutionary change. Historians have shown that long-range changes came about through successive small innovations, most of them unobtrusive and anonymous. People who lived through the innovation would probably admit that they did not know it was happening; But innovators who herald a change with a flourish of trumpets should ex-pect to meet up with attack and opposition. That pain accompanies growth is inevitable; everybody wants to grow and progress but nobody wants the pain that goes with it. 9. The locus of metanoia is the minds and hearts of ~he individual members of the community, in those minds and hearts where there is the hidden potential of zeal, dedic~ition, a sense of. mission, leadership, and a willingness to sacrifice. Members who have closed minds and hearts have lost the capacity for metanoia. For the self-renewing man there is no end to the development o[ his abilities. He is not a gold mine left unti~pped or an oil well only partially drilled. Psychologists advise us of the fact that many go through life without nearly salvaging all their ta, lents.~ Nothing can be so decisive for refiewal as the use of G6~l-given talents. Conversion VOLUME 25, 1966 31 GUSTAVE MARTELET, S.J. The Church's Holiness ¯ and Religious Life + ÷ + Gustave Martelet, s.J., is professor of fundamental theol-ogy at 4, Mont~e de Fourvi~re; Lyon (V), France. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS V. RELIGIOUS L~FE AND PREFERENTIAL LOVE OF JEsus CHRIST The* eschatological character of virginity contributes spiritual depth to our understanding of religious life; we must now analyze the latter in still greater detail. Having begun by considering the holiness of the Church (I), which appeared inseparable from her mystery as Spouse (II), we saw that marriage represents sacramentally a mys-tery whose content is spiritually appropriated by virginity (III). This insight illuminated the eschatological meaning of virginity and exposed its motivating drive, a preferen-tial love of Christ (IV). This love throws the greatest light on religious life, and it is in function of that love that our first comprehensive glance at the state must be cast--the concern of the present section. We shall examine the na-ture of religious life'in iiself, its dependence on the mys-tery of the Church, and the significance which consecrated virginity retains today with regard to religious life. 1. Nature o[ Religious Life We do not pretend to supply an exhaustive treatment of this vast subject, for that would simultaneously entail a consideration of the history of the Church, of canon l~aw, * This is the second part of Raymond L. Sullivant's translation of Saintetd de l'Eglise et vie religieuse (Toulouse: Editions Pri~re et Vie, 1964). The first part of the translation appeared in the November, 1965, issue of the REvzE\v; and the rest of the translation will be printed in the March, 1966, issue. When completed, the entire trans-lation will be issued by the REvmw in a clothbound edition. Notifica-tion of the date o~ publication of the clothbound edition will be made to all those who send a request for this notification to R~vmw ro~ R~mmos; St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas 66536. The request for this notification does not constitute an order for the book and in-volves no financial obligation. of liturgy, and of dogma; but we shall present its meaning from the viewpoint which we have set for ourselves.04 When considering the importance of virginity in the thought of the fathers, we must resist the temptation to construct a strict parallel between that state and the re-ligious life and to reduce the one state to the other. The adoption o.f this excessive view is done from a de-sire to augment the grandeur proper to virginity. While we have seen why there is little danger of overestimating its value, still a careful analysis establishes that virginity founds the order of virgins and not the religious life as such. To be sure, the history of consecrated virginity as that of widowhood with whicti it has much in common05 eventually meshed with the history of religious life itself. But regardless of the progressive absorption of the order of virgins into that of nuns, a fundamental difference pre-vents the loss of their separate identities: religious life re-quires and consecrates not so much virginity as chastity. We a,re grateful to Father Mogenet for an unpublished ex-planation of the point: Since St. Paul's day, the Church has had a too sensitive awareness of the virginal dignity of Jesus and our Lady not to recognize its exemplarity. She has exalted the charism of Virginity and has honored Christ's virgins who have been mem-bers of the Christian community since the first century. Never-theless, when religious life developed as the more or less con-scious response to the three evangelical counsels, no one thought of restricting it to virgins. The deserts, as later the monasteries and the convents, received converted sinners, married men, widowers, and the chaste single as well. And al-though virginity is a privileged state in following Christ, it is not an indispensable condition. It would seem that St. Peter had been married. We can almost say that Christ's call takes no account of the past. It draws the hearer from family life, from the project of founding a home, to the sacrifice of human love. The summons commits the aspirant to a continent exist-ence which requires perfect chastity as its normal state. This condition permits religious life to become, for those outside its ranks and most notably for the married, the support and model which it should always be.~0 Conse-quently, it is clear that religious life cannot be reduced to virginity alone. For even as the value of the latter arises ~ On this point a generally recognized role is played at the present time by Father Ren~ Carpentier's book, Li]e in the City oI God (New York: Benziger, 1959); the volume has the merit of never separating evangelical perfection and the mystery of the Church. m Andr~ Rosambert, La veuve dans le droit canonique jusqu'au xiv~ si~cle (Paris: Dalloz, 1923); on the status of consecrated virgins during the fourth and fifth centuries, see, for example, Jean Gaude-met, L'Eglise dans l'Empire romain (iv"-v~ siOcles) (Paris: Sirey, 1958), pp. 206-11. ~ Bishop Huyghe, whose writings on religious life are well known, put a great emphasis on this point in his speech to the Council on re-ligious life; see D.C., v. 60 (1963), col. 1590-1. ÷ ÷ ÷ Religious Li]¢ VOLUME 2S, 1966. ÷ Oustave Marteleg, S.I. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS from the preferential love of Christ which consecrates it, love can vow true chastity to Christ even when virginity has been humanly destroyed. Recognition of the prefer-ential love of Christ is equally important for a proper un-derstanding of poverty and obedience. Christ's call can be directly traced to His command to sell all one's goods (Mt 19:21); and the example of St. Francis as well as that of Father de Foucauld emphasizes the close relationship that unites poverty to love of the Poor One par excellence, Christ Himself. The same can be said of obedience. Whether obedience is linked with the demands of common life lived in conformity with the vita apostolica,6z or whether it is explained (as was done in the Rule of the Master adopted by St, Benedict) with reference to the role of the abbot as Christ's "vicar" in ac-cord with St. Luke 10:16: "Who hears you, hears me," or whether obedience is primarily envisioned as an "imita-tion" of Christ in His dependence on His Father as ex-pressed in St. John 6:38: "I have come down from heaven not to carry out my own will but the will of him who sent me," 68 makes no difference: in every one of these view-points, obedience is an integral part of religious life even though the present canonical form of the vow of obb-dience dates only from Carolingian times.69 Nevertheless, in its case also condition and essence must not be con-fused. Obedience, as poverty and chastity, is a sine qua non condition of the religious life. But can we say that it is its very content? The answer is yes, to the degree that by its suppression religious life would be emptied of one of its specific obligations. But the answer is no, if by mak-ing obedience the content of religious life one comes to forget that religious obedience attains its goal only by as-suring the reign of the will of Christ over our own will. Hence the organized exercise o£ the three counsels truly manifests the nature of religious life but only to the exact extent that this exercise reposes directly upon the love of the Lord, aims at imitating Him, and~emanates from His mystery through the power of the Spirit. The explana-tion, previously established when defining the eschatolo-gical meaning of virginity, should help us understand the ¯ z M.-H. Vicaire, L'imitation des Apdtres. Moines, chanoines, raen. diants (iv~-xiii~ si~cles) (Paris: Cerf, 1963). ~s De Vogii6, La communautd et l'abbd, pp. 128-9. n~ Catherine Capelle, Le voeu d'obdlssance des origines jusqu'au xii~ si~cle. Etude juridique (Paris: Librairie g~n6rale de droit et jurispru-dence, 1959), pp. 153-79, dates the juridical birth o£ the vow o[ obe-dience from a Chapter of 789; but as she remarks on pp. 208-13 it is necessary to wait for Yves of Chartres in the eleventh cer~tury for a theory of the vow over and beyond the practice of obedience. On the . relationship of the three vows to religious life see the discourse of Paul VI given on May 23, 1964 in the English translation, REVIEW KELtg~OUS, V. 23 (1964), pp: 700--1. point, since the spiritual basis of virginity is the desire to belong to Christ in an absolutely exclusive fashion. A point raised by the rule of St. Benedict in its fourth chap-ter, "The Instrument of Good Works," is of utmost per-tinence in this matter: "Nihil amori Christi praeponere," says the great legislator: "Put nothing before Christ's love." The axiom comes directly from the Vita Antonii. St. Anthanasius there depicts St. Anthony "repeating to all that they should desire none of the world's goods in preference to the love of Christ." 70 One wouId search in vain to find this central idea expressed with more lapidary compactness. And who would be better authorized than St. Benedict to condense western monasticism's raison d'etre into a concise formula? The same thought appears in the seventy-second chapter of the rule to explain the ardent zeal which monks should have: "They will prefer absolutely nothing to Christ who deigns to conduct us all to eternal life." 71 And it is the eschatological note that gives such complete fullness to the formula. It is because Christ "is the beginning, the first-born from the dead (that in everything he might be preeminent)" (Col 1:18) that nothing must be put before Christ and that one should die to everything rather than die to Him who is Life itself. Hence His priority as the Lord over all things and over ourselves--"Everything is yours but you are Christ's and Christ is God's" (1 Cor 3:2)--must be trans-lated on the level of love by an exclusive preference for His Person and by an unconditional desire to follow and imitate Him alone. Accordingly, all monastic life, as all religious institutes afterwards, crystallizes around the practice, of the three evangelical counsels with a view to assuring the rigorous ascendancy of Christ's ways over those of the world. Since Christ is completely despoiled of material goods (He "has not a stone on which to rest his head" [Mt 8:20]), since His own relationship with others does not take carnal generation into account ("Who is my mother and who are my brothers?. Whoever does the will of my Father who is in heaven, he is my brother, my sister, and my mother" [Mt 12:48]), and since He does not exercise His liberty except by delivering it up to the will of His Father (Jn 6:38), religious life will accordingly be defined as a ca-nonically determined break (even if it is not always spir-itually accomplished), with the possessions of the world by poverty, with carnal generation and conjugal love by ~o P.G., v. 26, col. 865 A, a citation derived from the previously men-tioned unpublished work of Father Mogenet. On the Athanasian au-thenticity of the Vita Antonii, see Louis Bouyer, La vie du saint ~lntoine (Saint Wandrille: Editions de Fontenelle, 1950), pp. 15'-22. ~ Citations of the Rule of St. Benedict are made according to the text of Dom Philibert Schmitt. + Religious Lile VOLUME 25, 1966 Ousta~e Mar~eleg, Sd. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS chastity, with personal hegemony over self by obedience. This triple rupture defines, by way of three complemen-tary means, a unique and single preference which should e~]ectively animate the religious' entire being, And if man is, in effect, a relation to nature through possession, a re-lation to the other thr~ough love, and a relation to sell through liberty, then poverty, chastity, and obedience are the triple condition of one and the same preference: the preference for Christ over all the goods of the world', sac-rificed to Him who appears as the One Necessity, the pref-erence for Christ over carnal generation, and even more so over conjugal love, sacrificed to Him who appears as Love itself, the preference for Christ over our own indi-vidual liberty, sacrificed to Him who appears as the only Lord. Understood in this manner, religious !ire is the applica-tion of the call: "Come follow me," in which tradition has always seen the principle of life according to the coun-sels. Directed to the rich young man in Galilee (Mt 19:21), Jesus' personal summons is ceaselessly repeated by the Spirit in the ever present reign of the resurrected Christ: On the basis of a love for the Lord of glory alone, the Spirit founds the movement of grace that is religious life. As a way of life in keeping with the evangelical counsels and canonically defined within the Church, religious life is first of all the choice of an end and only secondly a sys-tem of means. It is a response which presupposes a call, a canonical institution commanded by a spiritual love.It becomes an institution only because it was first an inspira-tion; it becomes the letter of a rule only because it was first the spirit of the Gospel. And if it is true that the counsels themselves are still a letter when isolated from the Spirit from which they live,r2 it is also true that the letter of religious life takes form from the letter of the Gospel only by the charismatic mediation of the Holy Spirit Himself. Religious life assumes a bodily form only when the Spirit breathes into souls the soul of the Gospel. This soul is none other than the spiritual preference of Christ over all things in keeping with the words of St. Benedict cited above: "Put nothing before the love of Jesus,Christ." r~ By constructing this formula for his sons and for all of those who would hear the faithful echo of the Gospel through i(, St. Benedict initiated his followers into the well,founded hope of "eternal life," that is to say, of "the life lived forever with the Lord," the anticipation" 7a Dom Lafont gives strong insistence to this point in the work cited in footnote 7, pp. 170-83. ra On the centrality of Christ in the gospel message see de Grand-maison, Jesus Christ, v. 2 and v. 3, pp. 3-346; and R. Guardini, Das Wesen des Christentums (Sth ed.; W0rzburg: ~Werksbund-Verlag, 1958). of which is the proper mission of religious life in the Church. By this preferential love of Jesus Christ, religious life, far from living in isolation from the Church, enters, as does virginity, into her most profound being and shows itseff subject to her. 2. Religious Life's Dependence on the Church We are speaking here of the whole Church for the serv-ice of which religious life exists, as we shall see in the last section. But for the present we wish to consider in a gen-eral way the essential dependence of religious life on the hierarchy and on the Christian community itself. By first drawing attention to marriage and its dependence on the Church, we shall better understand the position of reli-gious life. A. The Church and the Christian Couple Many of the faithful are indignant (and some of them ventilate their dissatisfaction in the daily press) over the fact that the Church through her magisterium wishes to impose a conjugal ethic on them. Although there are sometimes unjustified clerical probings into the private lives of couples, this indiscretion is not the object of the litigation. The latter arises from the Church's right to is-sue obligatory laws in the conjugal order. Contraception is not the only sensitive area; problems of a similar na-ture cluster around the subject. We do not propose here to solve any of these problems but only to indicate the spirit with which the intervention of the Church in such matters is to be accepted. In so doing, we shall contribute to the understanding of the relations that exist between the Church and religious life. Christian marriage is the sign of the 'union of Christ and the Church. The spousal charity of Christ and the Church must consequently be reflected in marriage if it is to obtain the transparency of a sign. To avoid saying that Christ has not assumed flesh in its entirety, we must recognize that all flesh must bear the mark of Christ and exercise that paradoxical docility which the Spirit de-mands of it. Christian conjugal ethic is dominated by this end. It has no other reason for being than to assure to the human love of the partners that spiritual clarity befitting the sacramentality of their love. Christianity assumes re-sponsibility for the most authentic prescriptions of human ethics; but in making them both more urgent and more imprescriptible, it demonstrates the need for transparency which the sign should have and the latter's ability in Christ to follow Him. That is why no home can be more human or purer, more united or freer, more self-sac-rificing or happier, humbler and more transfigured, than the home in which the light of Christ shines and where 4- 4- 4- "Religious Life VOLUME 25, 1966 . Gustave Martelet, ~,. $~1. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS His flame burns. It is thu"s apparent ~hat the Church can never sacrifice the conjugal ethic since the human love of the baptized must reflect, even in the flesh, the sanctity which she represents. The objection of those Christians who maintain that the Church cannot pronounce on :subjects which Chris~t did not discuss is indeed fragile. Christ's sile,nce, while ap-parently impressive, is quite relativ6 when one reflects on the manner in which He spoke'of tl~e indissblubility of the conjugal bond (Mt 19:9) a~nd of foregoing the works of the flesh "in view of the kingdom of heaven" (Mt 19:22).' Even if Christ had~ not.spoken, one could not declare the Bride in.competent tq d~e~fine :t,he standards "of the Gyoom to those who represent the mystery itself. Christ. would have shown little respect for His Bride, in fact, He wohld have shown outright distrust for her and lack of faith in the:intuitions of which His Spirit is the .guarantee, if He had not endowed His Church with the. right and the duty "to.speak" in an area where the bridal mysyery which she lives directly orientates the spi.ritua! underst.a.ndin~ of the couple's love. Yet the Church's authority does not sup-plant Christ in His mystery. The 'former relies on the lat-ter; she thus rejoins the profound life of her children--a life which is sometimes resisted but never denied: The latter know that they will never truly communicate with Christ through their love if ~they reject the manner in which the Church forms and guides their consciences. B: The Church and P~eligious Life If she takes so much care with regard to the sacrament of marriage, the sign of her bridal mystery, the hierarchi- Cal Church watches nb less jealously over religious life: If in the free holiness of the married she wishes to see 'the bldssoming of an image of what they become in and by th~ sacrament, she cannot be disinterested in ~hose Who pretend not only to represent but to spiritually actualize the v.ery love. of the Bride as it is directed in its entirety toward the Groom. The Church's ~igilance over the sac-ramental ~ign of her nupti_als in marriage can only be re-doubledin the case of the spiritual~ fulfillment 9f thesd huptials in religious life. The lat~er trul)i exist~ in the .Chu.rch~.only when i.t is discerned; judged, a~proved, con-trolled, 'su~pb.r~ed, afid'criticized.'lS)i hier~irchical action, 1.oc.al" orsupr~me;, of which it ~an neither atiempt nor de-s~ re to be free. ¯ This essential function as judge" and. guardian is never brought t~o fulfillment not only because human weakness is forever prone to compromise :what gener'osity 'in th~ SpirivoHginal]y envisage~l and ~romised but a'l~o b~cause ~ov~'g" ingpi~a~ion Wtiic-l~ giv'e~"-'birfl~ ~0 ~eligioh~ life" ig never dulled and because from the flight to the desert to the ransom of captives, from the highest conte.mplation to the most obscure nursing service, from ancient Carm.el to. modern Nazareth, from the monastic 9rders to the secu-lar institutes, the Bride must al.ways discern the various ways" in which the Groom inspires her through her chil-dren. Let it suffice to state that religious life, charismati-cally given to the Church by Chrigt Himself, exists in the Church only as canonically submissive to her law. More-over, if this strict submission does not des.troy religious life but~ rather makes it flourish, the reason is that throUgh this submission religious life finds its own truth. Publicly "recognized" by the Church as a privileged "way of holi-ness, religious life understands itself as the flowering within the Church of the Bride's mystery of loving re-sponse to the Groom's love. Religious life's dependence on the mystery of the Church is not only hierarchical but is also connected with the entire Christian community. The evangelical coun-sels which mold religious life do not make the pi:eferen-tial love of Christ become a monopoly of the monastery. Every Christian--and, strictly speaking, every man--is called to this love; and the precepts of the Sermon on the Mount are directed to every member of die Church "as the norm for the moral conduct of the baptized." 74 While' it is true that as far as the manner of loving Chri~ alcove all things and of thereby entering into the love of God is concerned religious life represents a privileged state, still it is of absolute necessity for no one. Although pos-sessing a universal value of exemplarity, it is imposed only on some, and then by a determined vocation. Holiness is never automatically assured those who commit themselves to this way of the vows; and there is no doubt that many Christians remain more faithful to Christ in the world than certain religious do in ,their monasteries or convents. Hence, religious have no grounds for' Complacendy or for a disparaging attitude toward those who are not mem-bers of religious life. The person who becOmes a religious enters a state of life which he may be unworthy hence humility is necessary for him--but which of itself initiates him into a perfect love of Christ--hence depre-ciation by Christians of such a life is impossible. Religious life, then, does not exist in order to divide the Church b~ absUrd rivalries over the better and the less good but on!y in order .that, the sovereign love of "Christ may increase and'that the life of the vows may assume at the depths of it-self the evangelical traits of the Lord. Never regarding it-self as opposed or superior to anyone, religious life must always be at the service of all men by means of those who ~* Lafont, "$aintet~ du peuple de Dieu," p. 1~5. + + + Religious Life~ VOLUME 25, 1966 39 ÷ ÷ ÷ Gustave Martelet, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS attempt to live it out and who take care not to betray .its ideals. Such is the dependence of religious life on the Church for the service of which it is born and must perdure. It is judged by the. hierarchy with a view to benefiting the common spiritual good of the entire Church. Like con-jugal life (and because it refers to One and the same mys-tery but in a different way), religious life cannot destroy its dependence on the Church as a whole, whether it be a question of the hierarchy who judges it and supports it in its fundamental inspiration or whether it be a mat-ter of the faithful whom it should stimulate to the love of tile Lord and by whom it is itself stimulated: "God or-ganizes his holy ones for the work of the ministry in view of the building up the body of Christ, until we all attain (o the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God, to mature manhood, to the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ" (Eph 4:12-~). Hence, despite (or, more accurately, because of) its integration into the life of the Body, religious life retains an irreducible original-ity which we shall have occasion to discuss later. This originality, which integrates religious life into the Body while simultaneously differentiating it, does not suggest separation or exclusiveness. This is why its full canonical development does not prevent the possible renewal of forms which historically preceded it. C. Religious Life and Virginity or Consecrated Widowhood It is easy to understand why the order of virgins and widows was practically absorbed into that of nuns during the course of history. When reading the recommendations to virgins and consecrated widows made by St. Jerome, St. Ambrose, or St. Augustine,75 to limit our consideration to the western fathers, one receives the impression, con-firmed by history, that these women be.longed to a state of life in which equilibrium was maintained with diffi-culty. A certain kind of exterior protection was lacking to many of them, and thht "sweet odor of Christ" which initially stimnlated their resolutions sometimes evapo-rated in lamentable circumstances. By endowing Christian generosity and the desire to consecrate oneself to Christ with a defined monastic framework, religious life quite ¯ naturally almost completely absorbed the order of virgins and that of consecrated widows which were formerly overexposed to many dangers. Spiritual situations, which 75 For example, Cyprian, Liber de habitu virginum (P.L., v. 4, col. 439-62; Ambrose, De virginibus (P.L., v. 16, col. 187-232), De virgini-tare (ibid., col. 265-302); Augustine, De sancta virginitate, (P.L. v. 40, col. 412-28). On widowhood, see Ambrose, De viduis (P.L., v. 16, col. 233-62); Augustine, De bono viduitatis (P.L., v. 40, col. 4~II-50). were still unstable, thereby received a precise form. This was a good thing from one aspect, but frdm one aspect only. For a valuable diversity thus tended to disappear even though there do exist within the Church Christian individuals or groups who without becoming conventual religious consecrate their virginity or widowhood to the Lord. This non-conventual exercise of religious consecra-tion of self has regained favor in our day to an unusual degree. Many Christian women,TM desirous of living their bap-tismal regeneration in the form of absolute consecration to Christ, receive no call to abandon the world where family, children, profession, business, .and situation ex-pect and demand of them a daily, total devotedness. In the minds of these Christians the consecration of their vir-ginity or widowhood to Christ does not necessarily iden-tify itself with the practice of leading a religious life apart from the world's structures. Without criticizing those who follow a more classical road to perfection, they demand little more than the three vows of religious life to express their gift of self to the Lord. Their borrowings may also include certain organizational aspects of life and the tone of a definite spirituality, but they do not usually exceed these features. They desire to take religious life from its conventual conditions in order to implant it in the world --which that state had justifiably abandoned in the be-ginning. The reasons justifying this abandonment of the world and assuring to convent and cloister their incon-testable values (though these have not always been uncon-tested) thus permit the conception of new forms of reli-gious life. The spiritual break with the world which should always characterize religious life can operate in an entirely interior fashion without imposing a rupture that may be described as a sociological or, better still, a conventual one. On the contrary, the structures which are most typical of the world can become the condition of a highly intense though less apparent form of religious life. In all this the ideal of the secular institutes is recog-nized. The latter represent one of the most original ex-pressions of religious life in the Church today.77 Duly 76 Cardinal L~ger reminded the Council of this fact. He also in-sisted on the fact that there should not be too rapid an identification of consecrated virginity with religious life: there are persons who de-sire the first but who perhaps are incapable of the second (D.C., v. 60 [1963], col. 1593). This was doubtless the meaning also of the re-marks of Bishop Huyghe (D.C., v. 60 [1963], col. 1594). r~ For an overall view of the matter see Jean Beyer, Les instituts s~culiers (Bruges: Descl~e de Brouwer, 1954). Consult also the same author's "La vocation s~culi~re," Nouvelle revue th~ologique, v. 86 (1964), pp. 135-57, where complementary data are given On the situ-ation of secular institutes at the present time. On Father Beyer's book see the remarks of Father Carpentier, "Les instituts s~culiers," Nou- 4. 4" Religious Li]e VOLUME 25, 1966 41 encouraged by Roman authority,rs this new state is em-barking, it is our belief, upon other realizations which it virtually contains and which go back to ancient formulas whose significance is by no means exhausted. The term "secular institutes" designates greatly differ-ent kinds of groups.79 Besides such institutes as Opus Dei which has the attractiveness of large-scale dimensions, there are other groupings whose aims and methods are more modest. The members ofthese latter groups think less in terms of vast, extensive actions than in those of an unreserved gift of self to the Lord; their way of life calls to mind more the reed than the oak. Since the end pur-sued in these groupings is less the secularization of reli-gious life than the consecration of profane existence, many specifications of religious life which are and no doubt should be characteristic of secular institutes appear less necessary to these groups. Thus, in the absence of common life, the observance of obedience and poverty is difficult of realization. Furthermore, obedience and pov-erty, even when maintained for good reasons, would imply in these groups a dependence and control which are not indispensable for the spiritual ends envisaged by the members of these groupings. Accordingly, the different positio.n taken up with regard to certain modalities of the religious life formally considered does not arise from a weaker desire for Christian perfection nor from an initial lukewarmness; it is rather the result of a different inspi-ration. It is not a question of criticizing the values of re-ligious life or of protesting the help to be found in reli-gious life, whether conventual or secularized; it is rather a matter of consecrating virginity or widowhood to the Lord while allowing freedom from many determinations which this consecration has assumed within the frame-work of religious life properly so-called ~and which con-tinue to characterize--legitimately so--secular institutes. The desire to return to formulas less rigid even than those of these institutes is the desire (and it is not necessarily chimerical) to return to the ancient formulas of conse-crated virginity and widowhood. Gustave Martelet, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS velle revue thdologique, v. 77 (1955), pp. 408-12. And see the more re-cent remarks of Karl Rahner who clearly shows that members of secular institutes are, in the Church, genuinely religious even though in and for the world they are lay persons (Theology Ior Renewal [New York: Sheed and Ward, 1964], pp. 147-83). ~s The two fundamental documents are those of Pius XII: Provida Mater of February 2, 1947, and Primo [eliciter of March 12, 1948; English translations in T. Lincoln Bouscaren, S.J., and James I. O'Connor, s.J., The Canon Law Digest Ior Religious, v. 1 (Milwaukee: Bruce, 1964), pp. 143-55 and 157-61. ~ At the end of Father Beyer's book on secular institutes will be found a list of fifty-eight existing groups with a brief description of each. We have already mentioned the weaknesses shown in the past by this way of life, weaknesses.that necessitate a real sense of prudence in this matter. But the present sit-uation is not entirely the same as that of past ages. Reli-gious life has benefited from centuries of experience; it exercises a decisive influence on the effort of every Chris-tian to reach perfection. Accordingly, what in past ages religious life would have reduced to itself, it can now re-frain from absorbing, allow to grow, and even protect in its own way. In this way virginity and consecrated widow-hood could regain their own particular status outside of conventual or secularized religious life and beyond that life Of the baptized that retains all legitimate Christian rights with regard to marriage. Being canonicaIly more supple than any known form of religious life and at the same time having the spiritual seriousness of a complete giving of self to the Lord in the Spirit of the gospel, con-secrated virginity and widowhood would then represent in our world a way of pertaining to the Lord to which Christians, not well adapted for religious life, could feel themselves called in order to live an intense life centered on Christ and the gospel and based on a total consecra-tion of self which spiritually transforms one's life without modifying it socially. A similar procedure which could revive in the twen-tieth century one of the most venerable but also most threatened institutions of Christian spirituality would suppose a profound renewal of schools of spirituality gathered around the great orders, both monastic and apos-tolic. By remaining or becoming centers of a profound religious spirit aiad by renouncing any control which would in any way limit the freedom of action of the men and women who seek a support that is purely spiritual, religious orders could provide an enormous service to Christian women, to speak only of them, by offering them a permanent and profound consecration of self to Christ in the world without entering the religious life in the proper sense of the word. For the sake of concretizing the matter, is it necessary to say that the matter discussed here is that of a profound renewal of third orders and of "third congregations"? Yes, if one wishes to put it that way; but the renewalmust be a radical one permitting the spiritual training that is given to take complete account of modern conditions of life; furthermore, the spiritual heritage drawn upon must provide souls with a truly profound in-troduction both to the Lord to whom they consecrate themselves and to the world for the benfit of which Christ frees them. Although these possibilties are offered only as sugges-tions, still the preceding considerations concerning simi-larities and differences between consecrated virginity and Religious Liye VOLUME 25, 1966 43 ~ustcwe Martele~ S.I. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS religious life supply a foundation for them. Forms of con-secration to Christ are of an infinite diversity within the Church. Some of them are completely new; others reclaim ancient practices and endow them with :a new spirit. It is to the latter type ~hat adaptation of secular institute formulas for the purpose of consecrated virginity and widowhood is related. In this the approbation of the Church will be necessary; but so also will be the inspira-tion of the Holy Spirit whose preeminent role at the very base of religious life must now be explicitly considered. VI. LOVE OF CHRIST AND THE MYSTERY OF THE SPIRIT The role of the Spirit is irreplaceable in acquiring the love and knowledge of Christ: "No one can say: 'Jesus is Lord' except by the action of the Holy Spirit" (1 Cot 12:3). In order to understand the true sources of religious life in the Church, it is therefore necessary to speak first of the Spirit as the revealer of Christ. The point is an es-sential one in Scripture. After Pentecost, when St. Peter announced the identity .of Jesus for the first time in Jeru-salem, he cried: "Let all the house of Israel, therefore, know assuredly that God has made him both Lord and Christ, this Jesus whom you crucified" (Acts 2:36). But before reaching this conclusion, St. Peter had already ex-plained: "This Jesus God raised up, and of that we all are witnesses. Being therefore exalted at the right hand of God, and having received from the Father the promise o[ the Holy Spirit, he has poured out this which you see and hear" (Acts 2:32-3). It is thus the effusion of'the Spirit by Christ which reveals His own glorification and which even constitutes it in a certain way. Jesus is riot the Lord with-out being, in keeping with this title, the One who gives us the Spirit. The Son's glorification by the Father in the Resurrection and His dispatch of the Spirit from the Father are two aspects of the mystery that are rigorously correlative as the Gospel explicitly proclaims: "Neverthe-less, I tell you the truth: it is to your advantage that I go away, for if I do not go away, the Counselor will not come to you; but if I go, I will send him to you" (Jn 16:7). And similarly: "But when the Counselor comes whom I shall send you from the Father, the Spirit of truth who pro-ceeds from the Father, he will bear witness to me" (Jn 15:26). o The dissensions raised by these texts--and others to ¯ which we shall refer later--is well known. The Orthodox interpret them as a guarantee of the complete dependence of the Son and the Spirit in regard to the Father, while we see in them the acknowledgement of the equality which the Son receives from the Father with regard to the eternal procession of the Spirit. It is the Filioque quarrel on which we shall not delay,s° We have mentioned the matter, however, since it is not without pertinence, usu-ally unperceived, to our subject. For while insisting more than our Orthodox brothers on the eternal role of the Son in the procession of the Spirit, we mugt not fail to remember the complementary role of the Spirit in refer-ence to the Son. The point is as vital to the theology of the processions as it is to the economy of the missions,sl And in fact, if it is true that the spiration of the Spirit cannot be understood without relating it to the Son in eternity since the ~piration is nothing else then the act by which the Spirit owes to the Father and to the Son His eternal existence as a divine Person, it is also true that we risk overlooking the light which the existence of the Spirit sheds in its turn on that of the two other Persons. For the Father would not be the Father of such a Son, who is con-substantial, that is, equal in nature to His Father, and the Son would not be the Son of such a Father, capable of communicating His own undivided divinity to His Son, if the One and the Other were not associated "spirators" of the Spirit. It is because the trinitarian life reaches completion in the procession of the Spirit that it can also begin in and by the generation of the Son. The entire mystery of the Father and the Son is found in that of the Spirit who results from their love and who is their very love, the eternal sign of what can be called His transcend-ent possibility. The trinitarian mystery is really conceiv-able only because it is the mystery of a God "who is Spirit" (Jn 4:24). For a better understanding of the trini-tarian mystery, it is not sufficient to say that the Son re-ceives from the Father the power to spir~ite the Spirit un-less one immediately adds that the Spirit, spirated by the Father and by the Son acting in common, is also the meas-ure and the sign of the unfathomable mystery which en-velops both and to which initiation would be impossible unless the Spirit Himseff were given us. It was to arrive at this truth that we took the preceding detour through trinitarian theology, for we could not truly know the Son and through Him the Father, in the revealing economy of the Incarnation and of the Church, unless the Spirit played His irreplaceable role of revealer and witness of Christ for us. It is this central point of view which we shall now attempt to illuminate. 1. The Mystery o[ the Spirit in His Relation to Christ + ÷ A. Necessity of the Spirit in Understanding Christ The temptation to believe that Christ could be reduced to purely human dimensions is not a chimerical one. "Is See Appendix A. See Appendix B. Religious Lile VOLUME 25, 1966 ÷ Gustave Martelet, . $.1o REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS he not Jesus, son of Joseph, whose father find mother we know?" the Jews asked (Jn 6:42). And it is true that Hi~ human accessibility enters into Hisl role of Mediator. "That which we have heard,, which we have seen wi~h "our eyes, which we have looked upon and to~tched with our hands, concerning the word of life, we announce to you" (1 Jn 1:1-2). It is in this way that Jesus reveals to man "what noeye has seen nor ear heard, nor the heart of man conceived--what God hhs prepared for those who,,love him" (1 Cot 2:9 citing Is 64:3). This human accessibility o'f Christ, and through Him of the Father, is the very con-dition of revelation and is in a way identified with it. Not only did Jesus say: "No one comes to the Father except by me" (Jn 14:6); but He made the even more radical statement: ".Philip, who has seen me has seen the Father" (Jn 14:9). Hence,.it is evident that God's revelation in Christ .supposes the humanity of the Son who through that humanity takes on our own. But His humanity is precisely the humanity of the Son; accordingly, one does not enter the trinitarian mystery through it without hav-ing been introduced into it by the Father. "No one comes to me," said Jesus to the Jews, "unless the Father draws him" (Jn 6:44). And to Peter who had just recggnized and confessed Him as "the Christ, the son of the living God," Jesus declared: "Blessed are you, Simon Bar-Jona! For flesh and blood have not revealed this to you but my Father who is in heaven" (Mt 16:17). It is "not of flesh and blood" but of the Father in the gift which He makes us of the Spirit. Jesus' words concerning the Paraclete in St. John have the same meaning. It is good that Jesus departs in order that the Spirit may come making it truly possible to know Jesus: "These things I have spoken to you, while I am still with you. But the Counselor, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, he will teach you all things, and bring to your remembrance all that I have said to you" (Jn 14:25-6). And Jesus also said: "I have yet many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now. When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth; for he will not speak on his own authority, but whatever he hears he will speak, and he will declare to you the things' that are to come. He will glorify me, for he will take what is mine and declhre it to you" (Jn 16: i2-4). Without the Spirit Christ will always remain for us in the order of "the flesh" which Jesus said "avails nothing" (Jn 6:63). In his turn, St. Paul affirms: "Even though we have known Christ according to the flesh, at present we no longer know him in this way" (2 Cor 5:16) but only ac-cording to the "new creation" (2 Cor 5:17) which is the work of the Spirit. And the Apostle tells ns in the Letter to Titus: "And when the goodness and loving kin~dness of God our Savior appeared, he saved us, not because of deeds done by' us in icighteousness but in virtue of his own mercy, by the washing of regeneration and by the re-newal in the Holy Spirit which he poured out upon us through Jesus Christ our Savior so that we might be jus-tified by his grace and become heirs in hope of eternal li~e" (3:4-7). Similarly, in the Letter to the Galatian's: "BUt when the time had fully come, God sent forth his Son~. so that we might receive, adoption as sons. And because' you are sons, God has sent the Spirit of his Son into your hearts, crying 'Abbal Father!' So through God y0u"are no longer a slave but a son, and if a son then an heir" (Gal 4:4-6). It is, then, through the Spirit that the Father attracts us, beyond the ways of flesh and blood, to the very knowledge of the Son, just as one must be re-born by the power of the Spirit (Jn 3:5) if Christ is to in-troduce us into His otherwise impenetrable kingdom. Since such is the case, the truth of Christ, though at-tested by history, is not naturally accessible as a simple fact of our experience. It depends on testimony from above which does not destroy our intelligence but trans-forms it by giving it n

Issue 37.1 of the Review for Religious, 1978. ; pies of Discernment According Jesus of N~zareth Culti~atingthe Cegtering Pr yer REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is edited in collaboration with faculty members of the Department of Theology of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. © 1978 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $2.00. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $8.00 a year; $15.00 for two .years. Other countries: $9.00 a year, $17.00 for two years. For subscription orders or change of address, write REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Robert Williams, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor January, 1978 Volume 37 .Number 1 Correspondence with the editor and the associate editors, manuscripts and books for review should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gai/en, S.J.; Jesuit Community; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19131. "Out of print" issues and articles not re-issued as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 North Zeeb Road; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. Review for Religious Volume 37, 1978 Editorial Offices 539 North Grand Boulevard Saint Louis, Missouri 63103 Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Robert Williams, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Miss Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor Review ]or Religious is published in January, March, May, July, September, and November on the fifteenth of the month. It is indexed in the Catholic Periodical and Literature Index and in Book Review Index. A microfilm edi-tion of Review ]or Religious is available from University Microfilms Inter-national; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. Copyright (~) 1978 by Review ]or Religious. Principles for Discernment According to Jesus of Nazareth Br. Jonathan of God and Br. Carith of the Incarnation Brothers Jonathan and Carith reside in the Elias Desert House of the Zion Carmelite Com-munity; R.R. ~1; Garnet, KS 66032. Our age is one of sincere sign seekers unlike the Pharisees and Sadducees rebuffed by Jesus in Matthew 16:1-4. The Pharisees and Sadducees came along, and as a test asked him to show them some sign in the sky. He gave them this reply: "In the evening you say, red sky at night the day will be fight, but in the morning red sky and gloomy, the day will be stormy. If you know how to interpret the look of the sky, can you not read the signs of the times? An evil, faithless age is eager for a sign, but no sign will be given it except the sign of Jonah." With that [the evangelist editorializes rather graphically] he left them abruptly.~ We long, with a deep interior lohging, to know God and to live in his truth. We are the generation that has spawned the Jesus Movement. We have responded, more openly than any previous generation, to the teachings of the Religious East. Titles like Swami, Guru, and Yogi as well as Eastern spiritual practices like Mantra and chanting are becoming well-known in the West. Messianic personalities .have appeared on nearly everyone's spiritual horizon. These wise men from the East speak with persuasion and attract many faithful devotees. All claim to speak the truth and present themselves as ambassadors of God. Religious communities in this climate of sincere aThe New American Bible, (New York: Thomas Nelson, Inc., 1970), p. 1089. 3 4 / Review for Religioas, Volume 37, 1978/I spiritual search have many men and women who feel called to a deeper life of prayer. For superiors this current direction has become an administrative problem by having to replace "good workers'" in now-vacated positions. For the religious seeker it has become a time of painful self-examination. Whether we are attempting to discern the words and actions of a particular spiritual teacher or determine if we have in our religious community a prophet or pious pm'anoid, we will do well to look carefully at the principles for discernment given to us by Jesus himself. Jesus gave ten very clear principles for the discernment of a person's spiritual claims. The principles are found in John's Gospel, chapter 5, verses 27-44.~ The verses are easily divided into two categories: 1) Prin-ciples for judging the person discerning: the subjective element that does come to play in every discerning situation. 2) Principles for discetvdng the person in question: the object of discernment. Since discernment of a religious phenomenon is of ultimate and not relative importance, Jesus was not satisfied with presenting a few static principles applicable by the spiritual and technical man alike. Just as a judge may know the law but lack wisdoml a person seeking to discern a spiritual matter needs more than a set of criteria, even if the norms used are the legacy of a great saint. Jesus insists that the "discerner" begin by scrupulous self-examination. The first set of principles, five in number, are for the purpose of self-discernment. Once the judge can assure himself that he does have the "gift" of discernment, he may turn his attention to the religious question to be reviewed. In testing the spirit of the person being considered, the discerner may use Jesus' second set of criteria, also num-bering five. Principles for Self-reflection The Father who sent me has himself borne witness to me. You have been deaf to his voice, blind to the vision of him, and his word is not continually present in your hearts; that is why you will not trast one whom he has sent (Jn 5:37). FIRST PRINCIPLE Men can recognize that one is sent by God if they are attuned to God and. his voice and vision, and if they continually have his word in their hearts. Commentary A group of teenagers from a street gang are not asked to review a new ballet about to open at the civic auditorium. Promoters of rock music do not solicit opinions from senior citizens. ~The Holy Bible, Trans., Ronald Knox. (New York: Sheed and Ward, inc. 1956), pp. 91-92. New Testament section. Principles fi)r Discernment According to Jesus of Nazareth / 5 With no reflection on teenage gangs or the aged, the pollsters are honestly judging the inability of these groups to evaluate the situations validly. According to this principle of Jesus a person must know God in more than an intellectual manner. He must know God and not only know about God. To put it in thi~ eloquent phraseology of the Carmelite hermit, William McNamara, "He must know the God of theology, not just the theology of God." You pour over the scriptures, thinking to find eternal life in them (indeed it is of these I speak as bearing witness to me) but you will not come to me to find life (5:39). SECOND PRINCIPLE Men fail to trust one as coming from God when they interpret scripture in a static way. Or when they subject gcripture to their own mind's inter-pretation. Commentary This is the problem of fundamentalism. Fundamentalism had tripped up many in the time of Jesus: "'The pharisees and scribes approached Jesus with the question: why do your disciples act contrary to the tradition of our ancestors?" Fundamentalism is the problem that has subdivided Chris-tianity. It is a problem we in the Catholic-Christian tradition, flatter our-selves in having overcome. We have become erudite in scriptural exegesis and are long removed, from the narrowness of the Inquisition. But who among'us can say that we look at reality without our limited personal perspective? Who among us is so egoless as to welcome in an unbiased manner God's messengers? I do not mean that I look for honor from men, but that I can see you have no love of God in your, hearts (5:41). THIRD PRINCIPLE Men fail to trust one as coming from God when they have no genuine love of God in their hearts. Commentary Just as "loving" our offspring by insisting that they become doctors may be a subtle form of self-glorification, so a .person's sincere love for the organization or institution can be a real bloc to God's plan of salvation. If the "temples" of our work are to be destroyed by a genuine loving response to a messenger of God, then we must have faith that better structures will be raised up in "three days." The demons that darken our vision in this area are the ones that Jesus suggests can be expelled only by copious prayer and fasting. 6 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/1 I have come in my Father's name and you give me no welcome, although you will welcome some other if he comes in his own name (5:43). FOURTH PRINCIPLE We welcome men with credentials from other men and fail to recognize a man who comes from God. Commentary When Saint Peter of Alcantra went to the bishop of Avila to seek his approve! for Theresa of Jesus to open a convent with no "fiked income" he. was rebuked and turned away because he was speaking poor economics. Francis of Assisi needed an introductory letter from ,Bishop Guido to see the pope and the intercession of a cardinal to keep him from being dismissed summarily. We are all beginning to realize that an academic degree does not tell us the degree of real knowledge, wisdom, a person has. The amount of technical information to which an individual has been exposed is indicated by a degree. True knowledge cannot be earned or discerned by degrees. How should you learn to believe, you who are content to receive honors from one another, and are not ambitious for the honor which comes from him, who alone is God (5:44). FIFTH PRINCIPLE Men fail to recognize a man from God when they look for honor from men only instead of being anxious for God's honor alone. Commentary This needs little comment. We are all wounded deeply in this area. Human respect is a serious problem. We all relate with the sentiment of Cardinal Wolsey: "IfI had but served my God as faithfully as I have my king, I now would not be naked to my enemies." Principles to Discern the Man from God As the Father has within him the gift of life, so he has granted to the Son that he too should have with him the gift of life (5:26). FIRST PRINCIPLE The man of God gives life like God gives life. Commentary The holy men of the East state it in this way: A flower filled with honey need not wear a sign to attract bees. The type of life referred to here is the kind Principles for Discernment According to Jesus of Nazareth / 7 we have the privilege of witnessing in the life and work of Mother Theresa of Calcutta. We stand in awe of the miracle of her activity but we are believers like Thomas. We have seen so much evidence of God's work in her life. Blessed are they who first commissioned her to respond to her "call within a call" and go live as the poorest of the poor. Many of us might have looked upon her proposal as a bit too idealistic. I cannot do anything on my own authority. I decide as I am bidden to decide and my decision is never unjust because I am consulting the will of him who sent me not my own will (5:30). SECOND PRINCIPLE A man from God does nothing on his own authority, only on God's, thus he is never unjust. Commentary The men and women who refused to cooperate with the "justice" of the Third Reich because of higher laws are the kinds of individuals seen operating under this principle. Acts done as an obedience to God, by interior realization or e.xternai vision, may contradict man's law but not the Law of God. Although Theresa of Avila seemed disobedient to her local superiors the day she opened her first convent of the then incipient Carmelite Reform, she had acquired permission from the pope and local ordinary. Theresa, also, had the support of her ardent admirer, the General of the Order, Fr. Rossi.3 The father., has also granted him the power to execute judgment (5:27). THIRD PRINCIPLE A man from God judges wisely. C6mmentary Wisdom is a gift that transcends technical thinking. Solomon's wisdom befuddled the two women seeking the custody of the child but the intuitive conclusion to which Solomon came did lead to justice. The words of the wise will often confuse those of us lost in our heads. All of life is mystery yet we want to "understand it." The wise person does understand by transcendir~g his thinking, limited and ego-filled, and begins to see reality through the eyes of God. 3The history of the Carmelite Reform of St. Theresa is immensely complex. For further reading see: Journey to Carith, Peter-Thomas Rohrbach, O. C. D. (Garden City, New York: Dou-bleday and Company, Inc., 1966), Chapter V., and The Carmelites, Joachim Smet, O. Carm. (Darien, Illinois: Carmelite Spiritual Center, 1976), Vol. II., Chapter If. I~ / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/1 lfl t'estify on my own behalf, that testimony of mine is worth nothing; there is another.who testifies to me, and I know well that the testi-mony he bears me is worthy of trust. You yourselves sent a message to John, and he testified to the truth (not that I depend on any human testimony; it is for your own welfare that I say this) (5:31). FOURTH PRINCIPLE A man from God gets testimony from holy men and from God, not from any human testimony. Commentary When it comes to discerning a spiritual person the otherwise hackneyed expression takes on a certain profundity, "it takes one to know one." The example of Peter of Alcantra's witness to the worthiness of Theresa of Avila as described under the commentary of section four of the first, set of principles is applic~.ble here. But the testimony ! have is greater than John's; the actions which my Father has enabled me to achieve, those very actions which I per-form bear me witness that it is the Father who has sent me (5:36). F~F'rn PRINCIPLE A man from God performs actions that are greater than a man can do on his own. Commentary Use Mother Theresa of Calcutta as a present day example of this principle in operation. The growth of her community is precisely the phenomenon that it is because it occurs in an age of vocational depression. Her efforts to sustain the efforts of thousands of Missionaries of Charity from alms alone, refusing any fixed 'income, is an economic miracle. Of simple peasant stock, Mother Theresa has been received as royalty by pontiff, prelates and presidents. Her resources she claims come to her on her knees. Rejecting the benefices of men who wish to tangle her work in red tape, Mother Theresa clings with childlike confidence to the only Benefactor she really trusts. The crowds were divided over the issue of Jesus. Some maintained "he is a good man" and others felt he was misleading the people: They were unable to comprehend how his knowledge surpassed his slight formal religious education. Some went so far as to voice the question: "When the Messiah does come, can he be expected to perform any greater signs than this man?" (Jn 7:31). We believe Jesus did come from God but many of his, and our, contemporarie's did or do not. It is grace that makes us free enough of our own perception of reality to believe that God, who is infinite, Principles for Discernment According to Jesus of Nazareth / 9 manifested himself in toto, in the finite son of Mary. Many of life's givens have been challenged, some taken away. Less of us are certain that those who cry, "the end is near" are mad. Living in a time of technological chaos and intense spiritual confusion, with salvation being offered us in monasteries and marketplace, how do we know who spi~aks with God's authentic voice? A sincere use of the principles given us by the Master will assure u~ of knowing whom he has chosen to represent him and to whom he has entrusted the words of etei'nal life. "Give beauty Retreat's End back., back to God" (G. M. Hopkins) I give you back this pure, full mountain morning, all leaping, blue as robins' eggsr here at Isaac Jogues where giving feeds, feeds the air. I give you back but keep the love, this gentlest affirmation of my need. Each moment as a specially-cared- for now, a nest of robins' eggs that could be eagles-- each one I give you back, but heart-wise I go down this mountain slowly, though light with love, renewed fidelities. I do not look back; the heart has eyes that memorize such mornings. Mary Enda Hughes, S.S.N.D. College of Saint Joseph the Provider Clement Road Rutland, Vermont 05701 Cultivating the Centering Prayer Thomas Keating, O.C.S.O. Abbot Keating's article is based on talks given at "Advanced Centering Prayer Workshops" given at his abbey, St. Joseph's, Spencer, MA 01562. A practical method of contemplative prayer based on the Cloud of Un-knowing, developed by Father William Meninger and called "Centering Prayer," has been made available by means of tapes, workshops sponsored by the Religious Life Committee of the Conference of Major Superiors of Men, and the increasing number of retreats in different parts of the country designed to communicate this method. An introduction to the Centering Prayer by Father Basil Pennington appeared in the REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS in September, 1976. His book on the same subject, Daily We Touch Him, was published by Doubleday in March, 1977. In any form of prayer, listening, waiting, attending to God have an important place. This article deals with the kinds of thoughts that occur in the silence of listening and gives some indication of how to deal with them. How we cope with unwanted thoughts is of crucial importance since it affects the quality of prayer, its refreshment, and the presence or absence of tension. Considerations proposed in this article in reference to the prac-tice of Centering Prayer, therefore, may be applied, in a manner adapted to it, to one's own preferred form of prayer. Centering Prayer Centering Prayer is a renewal of the traditional prayer of the Church leading to contemplation. It is an attempt to present it in an up-to-date format and to put a certain order and method into it. This prayer is not meant to replace all other kinds of prayer. But it puts all the other kinds into 10 Cultivating the Centering Prayer / 11 a new perspective. It centers one's attention on God's presence within and moves on to discover his presence everywhere else. Thus it is not an end in itself, but a beginning. It is not to be done for the sake of an experience, but for the sake of its fruits in one's life. Here is a parable that points to what is happening in this prayer. There was a little fish who swam up to his mother one day'and said: "Mummy, what is this ocean I hear so much about?" She said to him, "You stupid little fis!! It's all around you and in you. Just swim up onto the be~ch and lie there for a while and you'll find out." Another time, there was a little bear who walked up to his mother one day and said: "Mummy, what is this air I hear so much about?" She said to him, "You stupid, little bear! It's all around you and in you. Just stick your head in a pail of water for a while, and you'll find out." Finally, there was a certfiin beginner in the spiritual life who was having a hard time. One day he went up to his spiritual director and said: "What is this God I hear so much about?" , The spiritual director should not, of course, say to him, "You stupid little novice! He's all around you and in you." But he is supposed to be able to tell him what to do to discover and experience this reality. Centering prayer is one way of doing this. By turning off the ordinary flow of thoughts, which reinforces one's habitual, way of looking at the world, one'.s world begins to change. It is like turning a radio from long wave to short wave. You may be used to a long wave set and the stations it picks up, but if you want to hear stations from far away, you have to turn to the other wave length.' In similar fashion, if you turn off your ordinary thought patterns, you enter into a new world of reality. To do this systematically, take up a position that will enable you to sit still Close your eyes. Half of the world disappears, because we think most of what we see. Then slow down the normal flow of thoughts by thinking just one thought. Choose a sacred word of one or two syllables with which you feel comfortable. It will be the sign of your intention to open yourself interiorly, to the mystery of God's enveloping presence. Keep thinking this sacred word. When you become aware that you are off on some other thought, gently return to this word. As you go to a deeper level of reality, you begin to pick up vibrations that were there all the time but not per-ceived. This broadened perspective gives you a chance to know both your-self and God in a new way. ' Method Our ordinary thoughts are like boats sitting on a river, so closely packed together that we cannot see the river that is holding them up. We are normally aware of one object after another passing across the inner screen 12 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/1 of consciousness: thoughts, m~mories, feelings, external objects.¯ By slow-ing down that flow for a little while, space begins to appear between the boats. Up comes the reality on which they are floating. The prayer of Centering is a method of directing our attention from the boats to the river on which they are resting, from the particular to the general, from the concrete to the formless. At first you are preoccupied by the boats that are going by. You become interested to see what is on them. You must train yourself to let them all go by. If you catch yourself becoming interested in them, return to the sacred ¯ word you have chosen, which expresses the movement of your whole being toward God who is present within y.ou. A familiar gesture of devotion consists in placing the palms of the hands together with fingers pointing upward. It is meant to express the movement of our body and soul toward God. All our faculties are gathered together and pointed toward God by this gesture. That is what the sacred word is trying to say. It is a pointer. The wofd itself can become vague or disappear. It can be only an impulse of the will. But it points one's whole being to God. Quieting the Mind Various kinds of thoughts may come down the stream of consciousness when one starts to quiet one's mind. The appropriate response is a little different for each. The most obvious are the superficial thoughts that the imagination grinds out because of its natural propensity for perpetual mo-tion. These should be treated like the weather which you just have to accept. The important thing is not to pay any attention to them. They are like the noise in the street which floats through the window of an apartment where two people are carrying on a conversation. Their attention is firmly directed to each other, but they cannot avoid hearing the noise. Sometimes they reach a point where they don't notice it at all. At other times the honking of horns may distract them momentarily. It would be useless to get in the elevator and g6 downstairs and tell the people on the street to shut up. You would have to discontinue the conversation, and you might not be able to take it up again where you left off. The only reasonable attitude is to put up with the noise and pay as little attention to it as possible. In this way you give as much of your undivided attention as circumstances allow to the person with whom you are conversing. The second kind of thought occurs when you get interested in something that is happening in the street. A brawl breaks out and attracts your curiosity. This i~ the kind of thought that calls for some reaction. Here is where returning gently to the sacred word is a means of getting back to the general loving attention you are offering to God. It is important not to be annoyed with yourself if you get involved with these interesting thoughts. That would be a great mistake, because any annoyance or any curiosity that you give in to is another thought, and that takes you farther away from the Cultivating the Centering Prayer interior silence which is the proximate goal of this prayer. Interior silence is always going to be relative. It is important not to reflect on what is happening while doing Centering Prayer. You can do that later. While in this prayer, dedicate the time to interior silence. Silence As we sink into deep peace and then silence, a third kind of thought may arise. Something in our nature--or maybe it is the devil--starts fishing. Brilliant intellectual or theological insights or what seem to be marvelous psychological breakthroughs, like tasty bait, are dangled in front of our minds and we think, "If only I can remember this fantastic insight!" But acquiescence to some beautiful or illuminating thought long enough to remember it afterwards will bring you out of the deep waters of silence. Any thought will bring you out. A very delicate but intimate kind of self-denial is necessary in this prayer. It is not just an experience of rest and refreshment--a sort of spiritual cocktail hour. It involves the denial of what we are most attached to, namely, our own thoughts and feelings---our very selves. This kind of asceticism goes to the very roots of our attachment to our superficial egocentric selves and teaches us to let go. It is the most thorough kind of self-denial, but also a delightful kind. Self-denial does not have to be afflictive to be effective. It is a question of choosing the best kind of self-denial and working at it. This is not the time to think about praying for yourself or somebody else. You can do that at another time. The basic principle for handling thoughts in this prayer is this: whatever thought, feeling or experience attracts your attention, always return to the sacred word. A thought can be anything you notice--inwardly or out-wardly. Even if you should have an overwhelming experience of God, this is not the time to think about it. As you quiet down and go deeper, you may come to a place that is outside time. Time is the measure of motion. With few or no successive thoughts, you may experience the time of prayer passing like the snap of your fingers. "It certainly did not seem like half an hour." As you settle down to deep peace and inner freedom from all thoughts, a great desire to reflect on what is happening may arise. You may think, "At last I am getting some place?' Or, "This feeling of peace is just great." Or, "If only I could make a mental note of how I got here so that I can get back to it whenever I want!" These are good examples of the fourth kind of thought. In deep tranquillity you are offered a choice between reflecting on what 14 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/1 is going on or letting go in faith. If you let go, you go to deeper silence. If you reflect, you come out and have to start over. There will be a lot of starting over. The presence of God is like the atmosphere we breathe. You can have all you want of it as long as you do not try to take possession of it and hang on to it. Nothing is more delightful than the divine presence. For that very reason we want to carve out a piece of it and hide it in the closet for safe-kee. ping. But that is like trying to grasp a handful of air. As soon as your fingers close over it, it is gone. The presence of God does not respond to greed. It has a different dynamism. It is totally available, but on condition that we freely accept it and do not try to possess it. This prayer is communion with the Spirit of God who is charity, pure gift. The possessive instinct in us wants to hang on to what is good for dear life and the tranquillity is so good and brings such a deep sense of security that the temptation to hang on is very great. But let it go. Accept each period of Centering Prayer as it comes, without asking for anything, having no expectations. In that way its fruits will grow faster. We always want to possess. That is why it is so hard to let go, why we want to reflect on moments of deep peace or union in order to remember how we got there and thus how to get back. But charity is non-possessive. It gives all back to God as fast as it comes. It keeps nothing for itself. The tendency to reflect is one of the hardest things to handle in deep prayer. We want to savor the moment of pure joy, pure experience, pure awareness. But if you can gradually train yourself to let the temptation to reflect go by,just like any thought, you will pass to a new level of freedom, a more refined joy. We are accustomed to think we do not experience something until we express it in a thought. It is difficult to be childlike, to enjoy what is happening and.forget it when it has passed--to savor the immediacy of reality. Reflection is one step back from experience. It is a photograph of reality. As soon as you start to reflect, the experience is over. Reflection on joy is an attempt to possess it. Then it is lost. This method of prayer is a t~-aining in self-surrender. It teaches us by our own experience and mistakes not to be possessive, but to let go. If in this prayer you can get over the inveterate habit of reflecting on what is going onnhave peace and not think about having peace--then you will have learned how to do it. Interior Purification There is a fifth kind of thought which arises in Centering Prayer. Any form of meditation or prayer that transcends thinking sets off the dynamic of interior purification. This dynamic is a kind of divine psycho-therapy. The experience facilitates the coming to consciousness of one's motivation Cultivating the Centering Prayer and evil tendencies, and sometimes enables the organism to release deep rooted tension in the form of thoughts. Generally, thoughts Which are the result of this process arise in the mind when one is most at peace, without one's knowing where they come from or why. They may introduce them-selves wih a certain force or even with an emotional charge. Once again, the best way to handle them is to return to the sacred word. If you can once grasp the fact that thoughts are not only inevitable, but necessary as part of a process of healing and growth initiated by.divine grace, you will be able to take a positive view of them. Instead of looking upon them with negative feelings as distractions, you see them in a broader perspective that includes both silence and thoughts--thoughts that you do not want or accept, but which, for the purpose of inward purification, are just as valuable as moments of profound tranquillity. Conclusion Take everything that happens during the periods of Centering Prayer peacefully and gratefully, without putting a judgment on anything, and just let the thoughts go by. It does not matter where they come from, as long as you let them go by. Don't worry about them. Don't fret about them. Don't judge the prayer on the basis of how many thoughts come. Simply follow the fundamental directive. When you are interested in a thought, either positively or negatively, return to the sacred word--and keep returning to it. This is fulfilling the Gospel precept to watch and pray. It is a waiting game to the nth degree. All through the Prayer of Centering your mind will be in and out of deep silencemlike a balloon floating in the air on a calm day. Just when it seems to be sinking and about to touch the earth, along comes a little zephyr from nowhere and up goes' the balloon. So it is with our consciousness. You should pick up the sacred word at whatever level you find it--a simple impulse of your will may be sufficient. Then you can go back into silence without delay. If you get angry--"O, I wish my mind would keep still!"--then you get thrown out farther. You must be non-judgmental about particular experiences of this prayer. The only way to judge it is by its long-range fruits: whether in daily life you enjoy greater awareness of the presence of God, greater peace, humility, and charity. Having come to deep silence, you see more clearly your capacity to relate to others at the deepest level, to pass beyond superficial appearances like social status, race, nationality, and personal characteristics. To know God in this way is to perceive a new dimension to all reality. The ripe fruit of this prayer !s to bring back into the humdrum routine of ordinary life, not just the thought of God, but the constant awareness of his presence beyond any concept. He Who is--the infinite, incomprehensible, ineffable Onemis the God of faith. In this prayer we are asking, "Who are you?"--and waiting for the answer. We Are No Longer Strangers. Ecumenism, the call of all Christians, is especially the apostolate of the Atonement Fathers who annually prepare special materials for the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity. along with their many other works. We present here two of the articles thus prepared which we deem of. special interest to religious. Contact: Rev. James J. Gardiner. S.A.; Graymoor Commu-nications: Graymoor/Garrison, NY 10524. Ecumenism- Source of Confusion or Renewal? Kenneth G. Stofft, S.A.* In 1889 a Southern Baptist pastor and editor proposed that "'representative men and competent scholars" from the churches come together to "con-sider the: differences of belief from the Bible standpoint." Thomas Tread-well Eaton was convinced that, even though scholars could not agree on all points, they could at least establish some agreement and clear the field of "much useless and cumbersome rubbish" impeding Christian reunion. This piea was taken up the following year by the Southern Baptist Convi~ntion in Fort Worth, Texas. Approvingly, the convention suggested that othe~ denominations appoint representatives to study together the biblical teaching on those points of doctrine and ecclesial government over which the churches were divided. At least, said the convention delegates, this concerted study could help achieve "a better understanding of the issues involved." In addition to the joint study, it was proposed that the *Father Stofft is Staff Officer in'ihe Office for Ecumenical and Interreligious Affairs of the Roman Catholic Archdiocese of Oklahoma City, Oklahoma. 16 We Are No Longer Strangers results of such deliberations "'be Widely published in all denominational papers, so that the Christian public may be thoroughly informed" and that "progress may be made toward true Christian union" (see Proceedings of the SBC, 1890, Atlanta, GA: Franklin Printing House, 1890, page 22). Even though the pleas of Eaton and the Southern Baptist Convention of 1890 were generally ignored by the churches and communities, the prin-ciples espoused were continually taken up by lone voices who attempted to keep the evangelical call for Christian unity before the ecclesiastical public--no matter how small that public became. The cali for '~a better understanding of the issues involved" in Christian divisions was reiterated by a small group of missionaries who ushered in the ecumenical movement at the turn of the century. The suggestion by Eaton that "competent scholars, . . consider the differences of belief from the Bible standpoint" Was recognized and officially affirmed by the Roman Catholic Church dur-ing the early part of the Second Vatican Council in 1963. The need to keep the Christian public "thoroughly informed., that progress may be made toward true Christian union" has been one of the major aims of the annual Week of Prayer for Christian Unity (January 18-25), as well as of the national and international dialogues between the churches and Christian communions. Because of the pioneering vision of men and women like Thomas Treadwell Eaton and the Southern Baptist Convention of 1890, the biblical call for "conversion" through Christian unity is gradually being realized before our eyes in the present decade of human and ecclesial history. But has this perennial call become the source of unwarranted confusion among the churches or a true renewal of mind and heart for the sake of mission? As each Church tradition has reluctantly or enthusiastically entered various stages of renewal (liturgical, scriptural, ministerial), Christians have also entered a period when confusion, rath+r than a clean perception of renewed life and ministry in .the Spirit, seems to have grasped them. It is sometimes difficult to distinguish between what is an historical accident or custom of Church life, and what is primary and essential to Christian belief and life. The ecumenical movement began with a di~dication to the scriptural mandate to witness to all nations concerning the saving work of God in Jesus Christ. However, the movement has grown in strength and credibility because, of its critical, historical eye toward the past and present, having firmly placed its precarious future within the will of the Father through prayer, patient study and continued shared ministry for the sake of the Gospel. The 1978 Week of Prayer for. Christian Unity (January 18-25) has for its theme: "We are strangers no longer" (Ep 2:12-22). In this passage from St. Paul's Letter to the Church at Ephesus, the apostle from Tarsus stresses the need for the Church to ground its faith in Christ Jesus, its foundation. Review,for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/1 Within the Church we are no longer strangers, because we form together the household of God, are saintly citizens, and rise up as the building whose foundation is the Risen One. Since we are no longer strangers to one another, nor to the Lord, we are presumably fellow saints who understand the issues having to do with our household. If this simple fact is not reflective of reality, or even close to our daily lives, then perhaps we are treading on dangerous ground and following the way leading to confusion, rather than renewal. Scholars of our various traditions and communities have attempted to examine both the truths we hold in common as followers of the Lord and the numerous differences in understanding these truths which characterize us as distinct "churches." These same scholars have passed on their research and findings to church officials for examination and dissemination to the wider community of the Church. We are requested to examine the results of these national and international dialogues and ask ourselves: Do these agreed statements re-flect our living faith? The first step toward Christian familiarity has been taken: to consider our differences in light of Scripture. The second step has been attempted: to publicize the progress of these dialogues through denominational media. The third step along the path to an intelligent process of education and renewal has not adequately been taken: to ask, is this our faith? The third step, however, presumes a great deal about church people and churches. It presumes we are familiar with the unique heritage we possess as part of the Church universal, with the inherited gifts we have as churches. Each church or Christian community has its own history but it also shares a common, history with others. Are we familiar-with the development of the Church and churches? Do we appreciate our differences as factors of his-tori~ al development? What binds the Southern Baptist churches to the Roman Catholic Church, for example? What has been the history of our development under the guidance of the Spirit and the pressures of world society? What separates and unites us as part of the household of God, fellow citizens of the saints? An examinatirn of such questions may help to reduce prejudice and confusion and may well achieve in the power of God a renewal, conversion of mind and heart for the sake of mission. A thorough renewal in the light of Scripture and history may aid the people of God in becoming more visibly the Church, in attaining "true Christian union" in close relationship with our. Savior and Lord, who is also our brother and the Son of Man. The historical period we are entering today is critical because it chal-lenges all of us to identify ourselves as "church" in relationship to one another and the Lord. Without educated lay people, religious educators and pastors, the challenge will be a major source of chaos. We must be familiar with our ecclesial history as both the source of our divisions and the oc-casion for our "reunion" in the Spirit for the sake of the Church's identity We Are No Longer Strangers I 19 and mission in the world. Who are we? Why are we who we are? Ecu-menically, we may be able to clear the field of "much useless and cum-bersome rubbish" impeding our "access to the Father" as "fellow citizens of the saints, and members of the household of God." Oo Ecumenical Worship: What Do We Say to the Father? Charles Faul, S.A.* ~n those first "spring-time" days of ecumenical dialogue that followed soon after the Second Vatican Council, I became involved with an interfaith discussion group in my hometown. We knew little about each other and the tone of our discussions, while friendly, was also a good deal defensive. Most of us, in the beginning, felt the need to defend the rituals and doctrines of our particular segment of Christianity. This was natural enough, since we had been raised to believe that our way came closest to what Christ had ordered for his Church. Due no doubt to the breath of God's Spirit;-we gradually came to understand each other better and moved toward the vision of the faith we held in common. Certainly,. some favored a Church centered on sacra-mental life and hierarchical order~ while others favored the primacy of Word and less structure,, but we also learned that words like "Father," "Lord," "Spirit," "Baptism" and "Gospel" had much the same meaning for all of us. Most important, we came to this understanding as we learned to pray with one another. When our lips spoke the words of faith that sprang from our hearts, the commonality of our beliefs became apparent to us all. Ten years or so have passed since that time, and the historians, liturgists and theologians of Western Christianity have Confirmed in their speeches and writings what we discovered in our grass-roots dialogue ~uring the 1960's: the faith that we share as Christians, whatever our denomination, *Brother Faul is a theological student atAtonement Seminary, Washington, DC. 20 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/1 is monumental. ,Our common bonds reach back to the faith of the Fathers of the early Church and to the New Testament. Our traditions vary, of course, but our willingness to rethink our positions has led to some remarkable convergences. The Roman Catholic Church, forexample, has centered much 6f its renewal on the need to rediscover the importance of the Word for liturgical and doctrinal formulations, while, at the same time, the more evangelical churches have developed an ever-increasing awareness of the importance of sacramental life and, in particular, the centrality of the Lord's Supper in the expression of Christian life and witness. Dialogue between the theo-logians of major church bodies has produced statements affirming one another's ministry and express.ing a common view of eucharist and church order. Truly it has been a remarkable decade, but what does all of this mean for the personal and congregational level? We live', work and celebrate not with theologians or liturgists, but with each other. Each of us is that most enigmatic of figures, "the average Christian." The average Christian, how-ever, is the Church of Christ in miniature. The summation of our faith is the faith of the Church, and our worship, its prayer. How then in our joint worship can we express this valuable new insight? The theme selected for this year's Week of Prayer for Christian Unity is~'No Longer Strangers" (Ep 2: 19). It describes the feeling, mentioned at the beginning, that is experienced by those who have come to know that Christians outside one's own tradition are not competitors, but rather brothers and sisters in the journey of God's Pilgrim People. The question, then, is how might our prayer reflect this point of view? First of all, we must understand that all Christian prayer is ecumenical, since we pray to the one Father, in the name of the Lord Jesus, through his Spirit. This is the basis of prayer for all Christians. Thus, whether we pray privately or in a body, with our own congregation or in an ecumenical - setting, we are praying with and for the Church of Christ. We, in fact. come to a deeper sense of the universality of Christ's Church. Second, at those times when we engage in specifically ecumenical wor-ship, that is, when Christians of various traditions come together to pray, we need to recognize the bonds which join us together. We all suffer fiom brokenness and division, not only as a Church, but also as individuals and communities. However, our hope is found in the redemption won for us by Christ, won for all of us, and in the grace of his Spirit poured out freely on each of us. This is the source of any healing that might stem from our common worship. We share the belief that the dying and rising of the Lord is the model of Christian life for each of us. We must die each day to sin, in order to rise, though the grace of God, to a new life. Realizing we need each other's prayer and support in order that God's action in our lives might be fruitful, we come to a deeper sense of the unity of Christ's Church. Ecumenical Worship: What Do We Say to the Father? Finally, when we examine the liturgical heritage of the Christian faith, we can find the practical elements of ecumenical worship. Christians can pray together, not only for eight days in January, but on any and every.day, using the sources common to Christian believers in every age, namely: I) the words of Scripture and the early church writers; 2) prayers of praise, thanksgiving and intercession; 3) the church creeds, especially those com-monly known as Apostle's and Nicene; and finally and most important, 4) The Lord's Prayer which is the model for all Christian prayer. None of these elements is the possession of any one denomination. They are the liturgical inheritance of all Christians. In their usage we come to a deeper Sense of the holiness and apostolic foundations of Christ's Church. In coming together to pray for Christian unity, one group might want to follow the formats suggested for Morning Prayer (Lauds) or Evening Prayer (Vespers) in the revised Roman, Anglican or Lutheran Prayer Books. Another group might wish to use a more flexible structure, such as has developed in the many prayer communities which have sprung up recently. It is not the format that matters, but rather the act of Christians praying together. We must remember that Christ did not organize a discussion group. Heprayed "that all may be one" (Jn 17:21). Mutual dialogue is vital to the future of ecumenism. We must discern, however, that the most important, fruitful dialogue is the exchange between God and the com-munity of believers in Christ Jesus. If we are able to worship together in "Spirit and in Truth" (Jn 4:24), we will have advanced the cause of Chris-tian unity, for we will have come not to lament our divisions, but rather to realize our need for one another as sisters and brothers, "no longer strangers." Integration and the Sacrament of Reconciliation Robert F. Morneau Father Morneau is a frequent contributor to these pages. He resides and teaches at Silver Lake College of the Holy Family; Manitowoc, WI 54220~ Integration is concerned with "putting it all together." This admirable quality is sometimes ascribed to actresses who excel in their art, to pro-fessional athletes who have reached the peak of performance, to persons who live healthy, balanced lives. How common or rare these people are is a matter of dispute. Perhaps most of us could identify, not so much with the integrated universal man of the Renaissance, but rather with the plight of poor Humpty-Dumpty. Like him, all the king's horses and all the king's men cannot quite get us put back together again. The fragmented life of Humpty-Dumpty is a universal image in that all people of every age have had to contend with the realities of division, alienation and anomie. These forces are strangers to no one, though the intensity and longevity of each varies from person to person. Lest we despair in the face of this disinte-grative factor of reality, we must also come to recognize that the process of healing is a significant power in life. The healing process mends and restores persons, relationships and the world. A realistic view of life de-mands that the dialectical nature of division and healing, sin and grace, sickness and health all be fully appreciated for what they are. Despite the fact of disintegration, the Christian vocation has as its goal both individual and communal wholeness: integration in love is God's call to mankind. Our trust and hope is grounded in the Spirit of love who unifies and heals all of life. This love, God's gift of himself to his people, draws us into an intimacy with him that is the core of Christian living. Like a fish in Integration and the Sacrament.of Reconciliation / 2~i water or like a bird in the air, the very existence of the Christian demands the presence of God's love. St. Paul's message to the Ephesians summa-rizes this so well: "To live through love in his Presence." God's love is the source of all integration; living outside that love results in the darkness and estrangement flowing from separation from the source of light and peace. Those who have traveled before us have expressed well the central role of God in human life: the psalmist prayed, "You are my God. My happiness lies in you alone" (Ps 16). Augustine also summarized the nature of true peace: "For thou hast made us for thyself and our hearts are restless till they rest in thee." The succinct call to integration comes from scripture: This is what Yahweh asks of you: only this, to act justly, to love tenderly and to walk humbly with your God (Mi 6:8). Though we smile at the slight understatement ("only this"), the prophet presents a vision of life that is radically simple. The complexity of intricate theologies, the score of duties and obligations, the multiplicity of laws all seem less threatening when we can summarize God's will in terms of being and becoming a just, loving and faithful person and people. These qualities reveal the interiority of integration. Justice leads to peace and oneness, whereas injustice, by withholding from others their proper due, causes division. Love unifies through affirmation and support, thus providing hope to the weary and discouraged, whereas apathy and indifference isolate and separate person from person. Faith, the intimacy of a personal relationship with Christ, is an integrative power shedding light and warmth on the spirit of man, while faithlessness terminates in the despair of meaninglessness. Justice, love and faith are seen as the ingredients of an integrated existence. . The sacrament of reconciliation aims at fostering the vocation common to all of us: to-be-one with God, with others, with the world and with ourselves. As with all the other sacraments, the sacrament of reconciliation makes present God's love and forgiveness in a special way. Through the encounter with Christ, the penitent is offered the grace of healing which helps to put back together again all the spiritual.humpty-dumpties of his-tory, and we are in that number. God's gracious love hurries to friend the deep split within the person which Paul Tillich describes so well: It is important to remember that we are not merely separated from each other. For we are also separated from ourselves. Man Against Himself is not merely the title of a book, but rather also indicates the rediscovery of an age-old insight. Man is split within himself. But the depth of our s.eparation lies in just the fact that we are not capable of a great and merciful divine love towards ourselves.1 1Paul Tillich, The Shaking of the Foundations (New York: Charles Scdbner's Sons, 1948), p. 158. ~4 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/1 It is in Jesus that this divine and merciful love touches our lives to mak~ us whole once again. Integration: Personal and Communal--The HHH Principle The historical pendulum swings violently fl'om one extreme to the other. One period will stress the uniqueness of the individual withoutgiving prop-er attention to the social nature of the person. The rugged individualism of American history is a case in point. Then the pendulum, having reached its one extreme, swings its reactionary way to the other pole. Collectivism and totalitarian ideologies arise to stress the social whole to, the exclusion of individual rights. The twentieth century's political and social theories of fascism and communism are examples of this one-sided mentality. The truth of the maiter lies in the middle: both the individual and the social facets of human existence must be recognized, protected and fostered. Their interdependence and interrelatedness are principles of in-tegral living. Oneness involves both the individual person and the com-munity. The new rites for celebrating the sacrament of reconciliation carefully protect both dimensions. This fact must be kept in mind through-out the following description of.integration. The themes and principles of ¯ integration applicable to the individual are also, by way of analogy, nec-essary for an understanding of communal integration. On the personal level, there are three major elements seeking integra-tion. Anatomically, each of us has a head, a heart, and hands (HHH). Symbolically, these parts of the human body represent the capacity to ¯ know, to feel and to act. In the field of education, the concern for growth of the whole person is spoken of in terms of developing the cognitive, affective and behavioral domains. On a community level, these elements might be described as common beliefs, common sentiments and a common life-style. In~ofar as there i~ harmony (congruence) among these various . components, there is a sense of integration and peace; when these elements contradict each other or are unrelated, the result will be one of varying degrees of conflict and tension. Looking more ~losely at the personal level, we can discover the inter-relationships among the various elements seeking integration. Through cognitive powers we search out the truth, often at a high cost: ¯. who has given up much that he loved and prized and could have retained, but that he loved honesty better than name, and Truth better than dear friends,2 The consequence of living in the truth, as St. John's gospel points out, is that it leads to freedom: the truth makes us free while ignorance en,slaves and issues in fears. We were born to see reality in its deepest dimensions 2John Henry Cardinal Newman, Apologia Pro Vita Sua (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1956), p. 1 I. Integration and the Sacrament of Reconciliation / 25 and to act on the knowledge discovered there. Carl Jung in his autobiog-raphy shares a universal principle that deals with the relationship between knowledge and action: It is equally a grave mistake to think that it is enough to gain the understanding of the images and that kn.owledge can here mak.e a halt. Insight into them must be converted ifito an ethical obligation.3 It is through the cognit.ive capacities of reason and intuition that insights emerge, concepts and principles are formulated, conclusions are drawn and life is lived. Our creeds, constitutions, journals and discoi~rses attempt to i-ecord our mental travels. Though our perceptions are always limited and our articulations fail to capture the fullness of the reality, yet the extent of our knowledge is amazingly vast. The affective domain, symbolized by the heart, takes us into a rich though complex area of life. Feelings, emotions,, urges, tendencies, and drives are terms attempting to describe some of the powrrful and ambig-uous movements of our affectivity. Here it is that joy and sorrow, panic and calm, anxiety and peace .are experienced in degrees which only our unique person can narrate. Because literature claims for her own the mat-ters of the heart, it has universal appeal. So often the literary genius speaks of the affective level: When your own heart's been broken it will be time for you to think of talking.4 "1 do not know at all," said Martin. "'i should have to be in your heart to know.''3 The relationship between the cognitive and affective domain is complex. During certain periods of life a dichotomy exists between the two. (One calculation measured the distance from head to heart to be two light years!) How many Christians. know intellectually that God loves them and is al-ways present to them and yet do not experience this truth in their hearts? Possession of an accurate and sound theology does not guarantee an ex-perience of the heart. With integration between intellectual Conviction and personal affectivity, the distance seems to vanish and there is a mutual support and affirmation. Emerson's insight is profound:. "Our intellectual ¯ and active powers increase with our affection.''~ Truth experienced af-fectively and affections experienced in truth enrich life.7 ~C. G. Jung, Memories, Dreams, Reflections. Recorded and edited by Aniela Jaffe. Translated from the German by Richard and Clara Winston (New York: Vintage Book, 1963), pp. 192-193. 4C. S. Lewis, The Great Divorce (New York: Macmillan Publishing Co., Inc., 1946), p. 97. 5The Best Known Works of Voltaire (New York: The Book Leagu~e, 1940), p. 142. 6"Friendship," Essays of Ralph Waldo Emerson (New York: The Book League of America, 1941), p. 65. 7Two comments might be made at this point. Newman's well-known distinction between real and notional knowledge explains the dichotomy in more academic terms. Secondly, in light of the importance of affectivity in human and spiritual living~ our educational institutions must more systematically attempt to educate the affective area of life as well as the intellectual. 26 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/1 The old line, "Do as I say, not as I do!" draws attention to the third ingredient in personal and communal life, behavior. The question arises: do the words that I speak and the actions I perform truly express what is in my mind and heart? Do I live out my beliefs and values? Disintegration is experienced when a discrepancy exists between what I know to be true intellectually and a life-style that contradicts this truth, or when a dis-crepancy arises between that life-style and what I am feeling at the gut level. Every day life provides examples of such discrepancies: to know that a certain substance (alcohol) is dangerous in certain quantities and yet con-tinue to drink; to prize physical fitness as an important value and yet never take tim~ to exercise; to yearn for intimacyowith a loving God and never take time for prayer. Integration is realized when we channel into behavior our limited time and energy in such a way that this behavior parallels our thinking and feeling. A single stream is formed, a stream that contains truth, beauty and goodness. Integration and the Sacrament of Reconciliation The new rite of the sacrament of reconciliation delineates four basic and essential components: contrition, confession, satisfaction and absolution. These four elements directly foster both personal and communal integra-tion. The sacrament is the means by which the Lord Jesus makes us whole, healing the division within each person and the communal fragmentation resulting from injustice and apathy. The new rite speaks to the head, the heart and the hands, to the whole person. ~ In the new ritual, contrition is described as "a profound change of the whole person by which one begins to consider, judge and arrange his life according to the holiness and love of God" (Ritual, ~6). This is a call to integration, to put our lives together with God's help and to continue to grow in his gracious love. This process of growth implies an openness to God's word which transforms and molds us. It means that, as a pilgrim people, our lives are always in process and stand in need of conversion. Minimal self-knowledge exposes the dark areas of our life where selfishness flourishes and superficial change predominates. The new rite speaks of contrition as something that goes down to the very depth of our person, radically touching our ideas, attitudes and conduct. Integration is only possible at this level. Though conversion is a gradual process involving grace, time and en-ergy, it is not meant to be piecemeal. God calls the whole, person, not just one aspect of life. This realization helps to protect the unity of the person and implies that what affects one area of life will affect, if not immediately at least eventually, every other area. The ritual spells out the process of conversion as it touches upon three components of integration explained earlier: 1) Consideration. We are challenged to use our cognitive abilities to consider how our personal and communal lives measure up to the holiness Integration and the Sacrament of Reconciliation / 27 and love of God. 2) Judgment. After deliberation, we draw conclusions about how to improve our response to God and his will, employing the richness of our affectivity to sustain and give dynamism to that response. 3) Arranging life. Authentic contrition means that our life-style, what we say~and how we say it, the kinds and quality of our relationships, the reaching out to others, must at certain points be adjusted and modified. This broad, panoramic view of contrition challenges both the inner and outer man. The sacrament of reconciliation calls the whole person to turn to the living and true God in hope and fidelity. Confession, the second main component in the new rite, "comes from true knowledge of self before God and from contrition for those sins" (Ritual, ~6). Our sacramental system, concerned as it is with the covenant relationship between God and man, is obviously person-centered. It in-volves our worship of the person of our gracious Father, a deep partic-ipation in the paschal mystery of our Lord Jesus, the giftedness of peace and joy flowing from the Spirit. The trinitarian God is the core of all the sacraments. The challenge is to come to an even deeper knowledge of the living God, and from this perspective, to achieve our true identity. The crucial role of the scriptures becomes obvious in this framework. In God's word we find the revelation of his love and forgiveness; we enter into the rich world of faith. Cognitively we discover the reality of God's love which is the truth that creates freedom. Experiential knowledge of this most central fact necessarily touches the deepest affections of the heart. We are stirred interiorly to respond with our whole lives to this gaze of love. The canticle of Mary is a confession of being loved: My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord, my spirit rejoices in God my savior for he has looked with favor on his lowly servant,a True affective knowledge works its way into the behavioral domain. Our life becomes different; our words and deeds originate from the wellspring of God's mercy and goodness. The confessing of sins will thus involve the whole person: what we know, what we feel, what we have done and will do. Confessing both expresses and promotes integration. Satisfaction or the act of penance is the third important element in the new rite. In a special way satisfaction reaches beyond the notion of per-sonal integration to embrace the larger community. In doing the truth, in correcting injustices, in serving more deepiy, we implicitly call others to witness and experience the newly gained integration of our own lives. The Roman Ritual states: "true conversion is completed by acts of penance or satisfaction for the sins committed, by amendment of conduct, by repara-tion of injury., to restore order"'(Ritual, #6c). Integration implies and aLuke 1:46. 21~ / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/1 necessitates order. Wholeness exists when things are in place just as frag-mentation is experienced in chaos. In a sense, sin is being "out of place." In Gibson's play The Miracle Worker, Annie Sullivan, the teacher of Helen Keller, speaks to herself in a mirror: '~Don't worry. They'll find you, you're not lost. Only out of place." The "hound of heaven" pursues us when we lose our way in the darkness of sin; in being captured by mercy and love, the Lord relocates us in the plan of the Father. For true satisfaction we must be aware and understand that the proper order of things has been broken (cognitive element); we must interiorly feel and be concerned about the anguish and restlessness caused by sin in our lives and the lives of those we touch (affective element); with God's. grace we must reconstruct the harmony shattered by our infidelity (behavorial element). This whole process of reconciliation is no abstract, nebulous role playing; it touches the core of our lives. It is based on fact and experience. Though somewhat overstated, Carl Jung's reflection that "in religious mat-ters only experience counted" does express the seriousness surrounding the sacrament of reconciliation. Satisfaction, the acting out of heartfelt sorrow in°experience, is a vital integrative force restoring that order that leads to justice and peace. Absolution is the fourth main element in the celebration of God's mercy. The new formula of absolution contains a wealth of theology, deserving in its own right a detailed explication. The minister, representing the Risen Lord and the Church, prays: God, the Father of mercies. through the death and resurrection of his Son,. has reconciled the world to himself and sent the Holy Spirit among us for the forgiveness of sins; through the ministry of the Church may God give you pardon and peace. And ! absolve you from your sins in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. The wholb person is drawn to respond to this majestic oration. The mind is nourished with the experience of a merciful God, with the marvel of the paschal mystery, with the fact of the instrumentality of the Church, with the knowledge that pardon and peace are gifts from God, with the under-standing that all three persons of the Trinity heal the sickness of the person. These insights liberate us from false fears and narrow slaveries, enlighten the darkness of our minds and enrich our faith, foster wisdom, allowing us to see what is truly essential and worthwhile. Our affectivity is also nour-ished by this prayer of absolution. Our heart is touched by the revelation of God's love and graciousness, by the joy of reconciliation, by the dis-pelling of anxiety and guilt, by the calmness of peace and pardon. The sacrament intends to soften the hardness of heart and to foster the gen-tleness that alone brings life. Full, active and conscious participation in Integration and the Sacrament of Reconciliation / 29 this encounter with the Risen Lord abets a richer, affective life. Integration proves itself in action and the prayer of absolution necessarily includes Christian living; it touches the transformation of our truths and feelings into words and deeds. The absolution formula provides an example of what forgiveness is, thus challenging us to forgive each other as God forgives us. We are called to participate in the death-resurrection of Christ in our daily lives, dying to our selfishness in being for others. Through the gift of the Spirit, we are empowered to enrich the world by sharing the Spirit's love, joy and peace. Our lives are different when we recognize experientially the price of our sins: the cross. The shadow of the cross calls us to repent and to believe. The prayer of absolution is a prayer leading us to authenticity. It provides the vision that harmonizes our visible life of daily conduct with the new mind and heart we have put on in Christ. Integration and the Holy Spirit The possibility of Christian integration is based on the gift of Spirit. The Risen Lord in union with the Father sends their Spirit into the world to complete the work of redemption. Through the sacrament of reconciliation this work of restoration takes on visibility and becomes efficacious in the lives of those who believe. The Spirit directs us in .our struggle toward oneness within ourselves and among all people. Within the framework of the HHH Principle, we can examine the role of the Spirit in the process of integration. The tradition of the Church points out that there are four gifts of the Spirit that aid the intellectual and faith growth of God's people: wisdom, knowledge, counsel and understanding. Through these "cognitive" gifts we contend with the ever-present forces of folly, ignorance, rashness and dullness of mind. God, coming to the aid of our finite minds, supplements our ability to grasp truth through the personal Light of his presence. The heart, often bruised and broken, also stands in need of special gifts. Through the Pentecost event, fortitude, piety and fear of the Lord are offered as powerfui nutrients enriching our affectivity. Thus we are enabled to stand firm in the face of fear, to struggle valiantly against hardness of heart and acedia, to deal honestly with the arrogance of pride seeking to remove God from the center of life. In the sacrament of reconciliation, these gifts are available with the coming of the Spirit. But discernment is a difficult task ih life. How do we know whether or not we are growing in the Lord? Are we really allowing the mind and heart of Christ to influence our lives? What are the signs of health and illness in our Christian lives? Through the writings of St. Paul, God has given us an evaluation system to aid us in testing the quality of Christian growth. In his letter to the Galatians, Paul spells out the evidence indicating the spirit of evil and the Spirit of God. If the signs of God's Spirit are present, we have some assurance that we are doing the will of the Father and that the gifts 30 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/1 of the Spirit are truly effective in our words and deeds. If the opposite signs are present, we are provided with some hard evidence that we are failing in our Christian responsibilities. Paul writes: But when you follow your own wrong inclinations your lives will produce these evil results: impure thoughts, eagerness for lustful pleasure, idolatry, hatred and fighting, jealousy and anger, constant effort to get the best for yourself, complaints and crit-icisms, the feeling that everyone else is wrong except those in your own little group~ and there will be wrong doctrine, envy, murder, drunkenness, wild parties, and all that sort of thing . But when the Holy Spirit controls our lives he will produce this kind of fruit in us: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gen-tleness and self-control? Conclusion The revision of the sacrament of reconciliation provides the contem-porary Church with a process and vision to bring about the oneness we all desire. Unity is something intrinsic to our lives. William Lynch beautifully expresses this need in every.person: What I want first to propose, as a sort of working point of discussion, is that the very deepest need the pe6ple have is the need for closenenss to, union with, things and persons and God. This principle underlies every need of man. It is not a luxury or a gimmick. It is fundamental, primitive; eternal and universal . Everybody knows, when it is put in his language, that real solitude is hell and that unity is peace)° The sacrament of reconciliation deals directly with that aspect of our life which obstructs and prohibits unity: the reality of sin. The great marvel is that God's love and mercy have conquered sin and death and through the sacrament of reconciliation bring us in touch with this victory of God. A schematic summary of this article might appear as follows: A. God's initiative: the call to justice love (lived out fully in the person of Jesus) faith B. Mankind's response: so much injustice / apathy / faithlessness (mystery of sin) C. Jesus came to reconcile all creation to the Father---continues to come in their Spirit to heal the whole person--to bring about integration Truth overcomes falsity Beauty overcomes ugliness Goodness overcomes evil Head Heart Hand Gifts of wisdom, knowledge, counsel understanding Gifts of piety, fortitude, fear of the Lord Signs: love, joy, peace, patience, kind-ness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control. D. Result: Oneness with the Father through Christ in the Spirit. Wholeness, union, sanctity,' integration. gGalatians 5:19-23. ~°William F. Lynch, S.J. The Integrating Mind (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1962), pp. 134-135. Integration and the Sacrament of Reconciliation / 31 A growing appreciation of the depth and breadth of the sacrament of reconciliation is important if we are to fully enter into this great gift. The revised rite provides us with many advantages: the stress and variety of scripture, the personal touch with the face-to-face option, the emphasis on the communal nature of sin, the demand for authentic conversion, the joyful tone of celebrating God's mercy and love and not getting caught up in oneself. Our challenge is to understand as fully as possible the meaning of the sacrament and to experience its tremendous force in our personal and communal lives. .0 Now Available As A Reprint The "Active-Contemplative" Problem in Religious Life by David M. Knight Price: $.75 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review for Religious 612 Humboldt Building 539 North Grand St. Louis, Missouri 63103 To Make Good Again: A Selected Bibliography on Reconciliation Mary Colurnba Offerman, P,B.V.M. Sister Mary Columba, a librarian, has contributed other bibliographies to these pages. She resides at 2360 Carter Rd.: Dubuque, IA 52001. The word reconciliation evokes many meanings. Its primary meaning is "to make good again" or "to restore." The need of reconciliation pre-supposes that some harmony has been violated or disrupted. Many times man has broken his bond with G~d. Man must choose to be reconciled completely. God's plan for the return to complete harmony involves God himself, man, his neighbor and his community. When God created the universe everything was good. The psalmist tells us that every-thing existed in harmony, peace. Man misused his power to be steward over God's creation. The way to restore peace and unity with God, our neighbor and our world is through repentance, conversion and reconciliation. There are various levels of reconciliation. There is a reconciliation with God and a reconciliation with one's fellowman. Reconciliation for the Catholic Church entails the relationships of the Church with other churches. Reconciliation Within society is required when we have differ-ences due to race, nation, class, degrees of economic and social devel-opment. Every person's life is filled with numerous calls to reconciliation. Oppor-tunities arise daily when we can reconcile with .brothers, neighbors and those around us. Reconciliation begins at home. By turning towards God, our Father, we can become aware of how little we are without him, we can 32 To Make Good Aga. in: A Selected Bibliography on Reconciliation realize the worth of each individual and our own personal worth in his eyes and create situations that promote cooperation and sharing. We can ob-serve God's goodness in all the events of life. The recent Holy Year of 1975 offers opportunities for reflection on those things and happenings that direct us toward Christ and the eternal reward of heaven. We had many occasions to be more concerned with our interior or spiritual life, rather than with the exterior and materialistic things of life. That year of reconciliation called us to promote works of charity, to do penance and to perform works of piety. The Holy Year theme of renewa[ and reconciliation has been an in-vitation to respond to interior renewal in order to become better instru-ments of reconciliation with God, neighbor and the world. By developing a true spirit of joy, compassion and kindness and by using our creative instincts, our love for life and for our fellowmen will contribute to holier years to come. The Church expects much of the religious man and woman. Religious have been urged to reflect on their way of life as this was asked of them by Vatican Council II. We are reminded to persevere in faithfulness to prayer, becoming more perfect followers of Christ and a radiation of joy in carrying the crosses that cannot be separated from our state in life. On each religious community rests its future destiny. The living out of the vows from day to day frees us to be a sign of reconciliation. The ministries of the religious woman have taken many forms. Some are in education, others turn to .nursing and still others perform one of the ministries of service which has emerged recently. The ministry which is chosen will become a healing ministry if the religious is a person of rec-onciliation, deeply rooted in Christ and proclaims him as her Lord and Master. How do we make our ministry h service of reconciliation? By being a peacemaker among the students, parents' and those with whom we work, by being more prayerful, reflecting on the gospels and on spiritual' reading, by showing enthusiasm, uniting our sufferings to those of Christ, by consoling, developing ,a spirit of forgiveness, "to come away from each new grief without bitterness in continuing service, to see no one as an enemy and everyone as worthy of my service. Such are the realities of reconciliation. And they are reflected in thequiet dignity ofa fai.th-filled valiant woman.''1 In an article on teaching children about reconciliation, Rod Brownfield says, "If they come to appreciate more their own worth as friends of God, loved individually for their own lovable selves, if they come to see all the material world as gifts for their use and for their sharing, if they come to appreciate other human beings, as images of God loved by God; if they learn the spirit of awe and reverence for a generous Father; if they come to qennings, Sister Vivien, O.P., The Valiant Woman (New York: Alba House. 1974), p. 33. 34 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/1 want to mend what is broken and right what is wrong; if they can pray as they experience the good gifts about them; if they promote peace among themselves, their religion is a reality, reconciliation is going on and the kingdom of God is nearer.''z This could be our goal and we wou~d be striving to "make good again." Our relationship with God would be renewed or strengthened and all would be right with the world and our conscience. The following selected bibliography has been compiled to provide spiritual reading on the topic of "reconciliation." Methods, ideas, exhor-tations, reflections and worthwhile knowledge on "reconciliation" can be acquired from reading these books and periodicals. Thus Pope Paul's ad-monition "to make good again," to reconcile, to renew, will keep the religious woman in touch with her God, in touch with her Church, in touch with her world, her feliowmen and in touch with herself. BIBLIOGRAPHY Books Abbott, Walter, S.J., ed., The Documents of Vatican 11. New York: Herder and Herder, 1966. Bailey. J. Martin, From Wrecks to Reconciliation. New York: Friendship Press, 1969. Paper. Banks, Robert, ed,, Reconciliation and Hope. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1974. Barry, David W., Ministry of Reconciliation. New York: Alba House, 1975, Paper. Basset, Bernard, S.J., Guilty. 0 Lord, Yes. 1 Still Go to Confession. Garden City, New York: Doubleday, 1975. Burghardt, Walter, J., S.J., Towards Reconci6ation. Washington, D.C.: United States Bishops Conference. 1974. Paper. Elliott, Ralph H., Reconciliation and the New Age. Valley Forge: Judson Press, 1973. Paper. Farrell, Edward, The Father Is Veo' Fond of Me. Denville, New Jersey: Dimension Books, 1975. Chapter 3. Surprised In the Spirit. Denville, New Jersey: Dimension Books, 1973. Chapter 2. Foley, Leonard, O.F.M., Your Confession: Using the New Rite. Cincinnati: St. Anthony Press, 1975. Paper. Guzie, Tad, What the Modern Catholic Believes About Confession. Chicago: The Thomas More Press, 1974. Paper. Hanson, Michael. O.M.I., and John Maronic'. O.M.I., The Pilgrim's Prayerbook (Holy Year Edition). Belleville, Illinois: Shrine of Our Lady of the Snows, 1974. Pages 25-32; 211-217; 237-287. Haring, Bernard, C.S.S.R., Prayer: The Integration of Faith and Life. Notre Dame, Indiana: Fides Publishers, 1975. Chapter 14. Harkness, Georgia, The Ministry of Reconciliation. New York: Abingdon Press, 1971. Paper. ZBrownfield, Rod. "'The Holy Year That Wasn't,'" The Catechist. IX, No. 3 (November, 1975). 9. To Make Good Again." A Selected Bibliography on Reconciliation / 35 Hellwig, Monika, The Meaning of the Sacraments. Dayton: Pflaum-Standard, 1972. Paper. Hessel, Dieter T., Reconciliation and Conflict: Church Controversy Over Social Involvement. Philadelphia: Westminster, 1969. Paper. Hinnebusch, Paul, O.P,.Friendship In the Lord. Notre Dame, Indiana: Ave Maria Press, 1974. Chapter 6. Praise God! Denville, New Jersey: Dimension Books, Inc., 1972. Chapter 6; Chapter 23. Hunter, Gordon. When the Walls Come Tumblin' Down. Waco, Texas: Word Books, 1974. Jennings, Sister Vivien, O.P., The Valiant Woman. New York: Alba House, 1974. Chapter I; Chapter 4; Chapter 7. Nelson, John, Dare to Reconcile: Seven Settings For Creating Community. New York: Friendship Press, 1969. Paper. Nouwen. Henri, With Open Hands. Notre Dame, Indiana: Ave Maria Press, 1972. O'Reilly, James, Reconciliation and Renewal. Chicago: Franciscan Herald Press, 1974. Powell, John, S.J. He Touched Me. Chicago: Argus Communications, 1974. Paper. Rabalais, Sister Maria, Come Be Reconciled; Youth Penance Resources. Paramus, New Jersey: Paulist Press, 1975. Schillebeeckx, Rev. Edward. O.P. Sacramental Reconciliation. (Concilium Series, Volume 6), New York: Seabury Press, 1971. Sisters of the Presentation, Witness to Love. Dubuque, iowa: Mount Loretto. 1977. Page 24. Stuhlmueller, Rev. Carroll, C.P., Reconciliation: A Biblical Call. Chicago: Franciscan Herald Press, 1975. Paper. Tibbetts, Orlando L., Reconciling Community. Valley Forge: Judson Press, 1969. Torrance, T., Theology In Reconciliation. Westminster, Maryland: Christian Classics, 1975. Van Kaam, Adrian, C.S.Sp., Spirituality and the Gentle Life. Denville, New Jersey: Di-mension Books, 1973. Periodicals Abeyasingha, N., "'Penance and the Holy Spirit." REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, May, 1974, 565-573. America, "'1975: Holy Year of Reconciliation," America, January 11, 1975, 2-6. Baumer, Fred, "'An Hour of Reconciliation," Liturgy. August/September, 1975, 227-231. Bernas, Rev. Casmir, O.C.S.O., "' Reconciliation In Paul,'" The Bible Today. December, 1973, 1395-1400. Brungs, Robert A., S.J., "'Reconciliation: Man-the-Maker and Man-the-Made," Theology Digest. Winter, 1974. 324-333. Bryce, Sister Mary Charles, O.S.B., "'Reconciliation Means Change," Modern Liturgy, February, 1977.8-10. Callahan, William R., "'Reconciliation," National Catholic Reporter, May 16, 1975. 7-8. Cranny, Rev. Titus, "'Renewal, Reconciliation and Christian Unity," Onr Sunday Visitor. January 12, 1975. I. Deutsch, Sister B., "Operation Fervor," Today's Catholic Teacher. February, 1975. 40. Du Charme, Jerome and Gall, "Introducing Young Children to the Experience of Recon-ciliation." Modern Liturgy. February, 1977, 12-13. Every, Robert L., O.P., "'Theology of Reconciliation." Emmanuel. October. 1974, 404-41 I. Fitzgerald, Frances, "'Vietnam Reconciliation," The Atlantic.June. 1974, 14-28. Galluzzi, Alessandro. "Reconciliation Is Main Motive For Holy Year," L'Osservatore Romano, June 28, 1973, 2. Hatton, Sister Vianny, "'The Communal Rite of Reconciliation," Folk Mass and Modern Liturgy, January, 1975, 12-14. Jolliffe. P,, "'Prayer and Christ's Reconciliation," The Way, January, 1975, 66-76. Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/1 Joyce, Sister F., "'Reconciliation and the Teacher," Today's Catholic Teacher. February, 1977, 14, Krol, J. Cardinal, "'Human Rights and Reconciliation," Dimension. Winter, 1974, 148-151. Lynch, J. A. "'Meditation On Reconciliation," Sisters Today, January, 1975, 273-280. Maly, Rev. Eugene H., "'Haggadah,'" The Bible Today. October, 1975, 484-489. Miffletori, Rev. Jack, "'Rites and Lefts of Reconciliation," Folk Mass and Modern Liturgy. January, ~975, 23-26. Mossi, Rev. John P. S.J. "'A Reconciliation Service," Folk Mass and Modern Liturgy, January, 1975, 28-29. "Reconciliation Sevices For Children," Folk Mass and Modern Liturgy. August?September, 1975.25-26, North, Robert, S.J., "Yore Kippur and the Jubilee Year of Reconciliation," Theology Digest, Winter, 1974, 346-59. Notebaart, Rev. James, "'Symbols of Reconciliation." Folk Mass and Modern Liturgy, Janu-ary, 1975, 6-8. Paul VI, "'The Duty of Reconciliation," L'Osservatore Romano. April 18, 1974, I I. __, "Essential Characters of the Holy Year, Central Theme Is Reconciliation." L'Os-servatore Romano. May 17, 1973, 3. __. "'Human Rights and Reconciliation: Statement of Pope Paul VI and the Fathers of the 1974 Synod of Bishops," The Pope Speaks. Winter, 1974, 216-220. __, "'Peace Depends On You, Too," The Pope Speaks. Winter, 1974, 352-354. __, "'Reconciliation With God," L'Osservatore Romano. November 8, 1973, I. __. "'Renewal and Reconciliation," L'Osservatore Romano. June 14, 1973, I. Purdy. William, "'Holy Year and Reconciliation." L'Osservatore Romano. July 26, 1973, 10. Russell, John F., O.Carm., "'Reconciliation a Reflective Expression," Spiritual Lift,. Summer, 1977, 67-72. Saulnier, Rev. William P., "'Reconciliation: Let It Begin With Me," Modern Litargy. February. 1977, 8-10. Schaeffler, Sister Janet, "'Reconciliation Is Growth." The Catechist. November, 1975, 10-11. Schall, James, V., S.J., "'On the Mosl Dangerous Virtue." REVIEW FOR REI,I~OUS, November, 1974, 1301-1308. Seelaus, Vilma, "'Contemplation/Reconciliation/Inner Freedom," Spiritual Life, Summer, 1974.99-105. Senior, Donald, C.P., "'Resurrection and Reconciliation," The Catechist. Winter, 1974, 346-360. Seromik, Gary, "'The Holy Year: Renewal and Reconciliation." The New Covenant, January, 1975, 6-7. Stuhlmueller, Rev. Carroll, C.P., "'Reconciliation With the Old Testament," The Bible Today, October, 1975, 473-484. Wenz, Jack. O.F.M., "'The Cost of Reconciliation: An Interview With Anthony Padovano," St. Anthony Messenger, December, 1974, 14-19. Winiarski, M. "'Reconciliation Assailed, Upheld," National Catholic Reporter, May 13, 1977, 12. Bird With a Broken Wing: Christian Mysticism and Ministry Mar~ Ellen Dougherty, S.S.N.D. Sister Mary Ellen is director of novices for the eastern province of her community, in an interprovincial novitiate in Hinsdale. For this purpose, she is on temporary leave of absence from Notre Dame College in Baltimore where she is associate professor of English. Her present address: 427 S. Clay St.; Hinsdale, IL 60521. In his book A Third Testament, Malcolm Muggeridge says of the con-troversial personality William Blake that he was "sane to the point of sublimity." Blake, considered by some of his contemporaries to be mad and by others to be a mystic, was an early Romhntic English poet and visual artist who reported ea~;y dialogues with the spirits of Socrates, Milton, and Voltaire. At the same time he had the simplicity to urge his readers: To see the Word in a Grain of Sand ¯ And Heaven in a Wild Flower Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand And Etei:nity in an hour. Indicating Blake's creativity and originality, Muggeridge narrates the following incident: On another occasion, he told a visitor he had a great rarity to show him. This turned out to be "a naked figure with a strong body and a short neck--with burning eyes which long for moisture, and a face worthy of a murderer, holding a bloody cup in its clawed, hands, out of which it ~seems ea~ger to drink." "But what is it?" his visitor asked. "It is a ghost, sir," Blake replied. "The ghost of a flea~a spiritualization the thing!" Whether Blake was mystical or mad (o.r both), debates about him do suggest some of the standard tensions about mysticism. In current society, 37 31~ / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/1 sanity is one thing, sublimity another. Fleas do not have ghosts. As a result of lived history and the statements of Vatican II to religious, monastic traditions in most apostolic orders have diminished. There has been, concommitantly, an increasing emphasis on service. Many religious orders, at one time known for a single apostolic commitment, now embrace multiple commitments. Dress, daily orders, life-styles are frequently and often wisely subordinated to apostolates. There is a fresh and creative view of the needs of the Church. Ministry is a command. Any simple analysis of apostolic theology would indeed be simplistic. The practical effects are complex, and their reverberations are not totally without irony. For example, while contemplatives sometimes struggle to justify their existence to themselves, members of apostolic orders con-sistently apply for transfer to the cloister. Contemplative groups experi-ment with appropriate ways to expand a ministerial dimension, while apos-tolic religious seek credible ways to circumscribe activity with prayer. In this, there is more than just an intimation of the traditional contempla-tion- action dilemma. There are implicit questions about the authenticity of mysticism in this apostolic age. We return again to fleas and ghosts. Recently in the Chicago Tribune a cartoon entitled "The Now Society" featured a young man and woman seated casually at a cafe table. She is saying to him, "Oh sure, I've felt funny a couple of times, but I can't honestly say I've had a mystical experience." In popular concept, mysti-cism is often characterized by a withdrawal from reality. It is connected with everything from marijuana to sunsets. Even among serious thinkers, it is somewhat suspect as a way of prayer for a Christian, especially for apostolic religious. I have met more than one competent spiritual director who will not encourage directees of apostolic orders to contemplative prayer, even when they are so inclined, on the grounds that it is generally incompatible with their responsibilities. This, it seems to me, is a mis-understanding of contemplative prayer. In his book The Still Point William Johnston, S.J., speaks of Christian mysticism. He says: ¯ . . in the long process which precedes the canonization of a Christian saint, the Church never asks about the profundity of his enlightenment or the depths of his mysticism, but only about his practice of heroic charity; traditionally, mysticism is valued only as a means to something more imporlant--namely, the charity which is the center of the gospel message. When this charity expresses itself in mystical experience (that is, when the love of God becomes so violent that it drives the soul down into its very center in mystical darkness and existential abandonment of thought), then it is inestimably precious. On the other hand, he says, "Granted this . everyone must recognize that deep contemplative prayer is indeed a way (and perhaps the best way) to Christian charity . " The purpose of this article is not to describe the contemplative ex-perience that Father Johnston speaks of. There are numerous experts, Bird With a Broken Wing including Father Johnston, who do this well, namely Thomas Merton, and Evelyn Underhill, as well as more traditional writers like Tanqueray and Poulain, and, of course, saints like Theresa of Avila and John of the Cross. The purpose here is to suggest some of the practical effects of Christian mystical prayer, whether it is occurring in the life of a contemplative or an apostolic religious, to show that it is a way to the active "charity which is the center of the gospel message," to indicate that sanity and sublimity can coexist. Here, then, references to mysticism are meant to apply to the Christian tradition, not to other forms of mystical prayer. Mystical prayer as a way to ministry is verified if we look at the lives of those whose mysticism is judged by history and the Church to be authentic. If we focus not so much on their experiences in prayer as on the fruits of their experiences (their practices of heroic charity), we will see that they are concerned not with looking or sounding like mystics, or even with being mystics, but with acting out of their experiences, in accord with some call to service. St. Theresa of Avila, for example, steadily confirms this. As she grew in mystical graces, she grew in active service to the Church, and to her Order. One has only to read the works of St. Theresa to see that she is an assertive, energetic woman. Throughout her writings she integrates steadily emotional response with idea and daily experience. Unlike her companion mystic, St~ John of the Cross, whose prose is as austere as his message, and whose poetry is charged quietly with passion (and who, in his own life, apparently integrated the two), Theresa is never a writer of academic prose, or a poet. She is a narrator of the spiritual life whose warmth and intelli-gence fuse into an explication of mystical experience that is as loosely personal as it is loosely objective. She says in her autobiography ". sometimes love makes me foolish." In her prose we read of the pain, the joy, the humor of this foolish lover. We read, too, the history of mystical prayer as Theresa knew it, as well as the history of an active woman who believes firmly, as she tells us in the Interior Castle, that "what the Lord desires is works." Theresa's mission was to reform. And so she did. Theresa took the Carmelite habit at the Convent of the Incarnation in Avila at the age of twenty-one. It was approximately twenty years later that she experienced her first visions and locutions (after, as she tells us, going for the first fourteen years as a religious unable to pray without a book). In her early forties, then, she experiences mystical graces with some regu-larity. It is interesting to note that it is at this same time that she first engages in discussion about the reform of her order. It is at the age of forty-seven that she establishes the daring (and some might say devious) foundation of the convent of St. Joseph in Avila, a beginning that was to launch significant reform in religious life in the Church. At the age of fifty she completes the final version of her autobiography (written, as most of her works were, under obedience), and she begins The Way of Perfection. Both of these 40 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/1 works, especially the second, reflect a woman of deep contemplative prayer, and the recipient of significant, mystical graces. 'They lack, how-ever, the clarity and totality about the mystical life that is evidenced in The Interior Castle. It would seem fair to assume that between the composition of The Way of'Perfection and The Interior Castle Theresa's own experi-ences in prayer matured and expanded, so that clarity and totality were possible. The latter work is a portrait of a mystic Who has experiential knowledge ofeverything from the prayer of quiet to. the spiritual marriage, and who is thus able to order her observations in readable fashion. It is in this~work that she tells us, quite practically, that."perfection consists not in consolations but in the increase of love," and that "love exists not in the extent~of our .happiness but in the firmness of our determination to try to please God." It is here thb.t she. reminds us that "God's will is that no bounds should be set to his works." Theresa, herself, during these years, set no bounds. It was at this time, the interim betwee.n, these written works, that the bulk Of her endeavors for. reform occurs. In The Interior Castle Theresa says, '.'When I think of myself, ! feel like a bird with a broken wing . " Nevertheless, before her death at the age of sixty seven, this bird with the broken wing was responsible for the foundation of more than a dozen Reform convents; she served several terms .as prioress; she acted unofficially as spiritual director for many priests and sisters (for women in those days the role had to be unofficial); she was the author of several solid volumes on the spiritual life. And she was a mystic. One could do a similar, profile of St. John of the Cross, to the same effect. He died at the age of forty-nine, after a full life as a 6ontemplative. A prolific and profound writer, he is better known as mystic than he is as theologian, reformer, spiritual director and confessor, administrator. And yet it was these tasks that consumed his energies, that accounted for his imprisonment, poor health, and untimely death. An"accomplished poet ,whose lyrics reveal the mysterious rhythm of his spirit, he was also a writer 6f practical pros~e. He was capable of mystical poetry that was ap-propriately elusive and at the same time concrete: When the breeze blew from the turret Parting his hair He wounded my neck, With his gentle hand . He was also the author of stark precepts: "Endeavor to be inclined always not to the easiest, but to the most difficult; not to the most .delightful, but to the harshest; not to the most gratifying, but to the less pleasan,t; . desire to enter into complete nudity, emptiness, and poverty" . .I.n poetry and precept, he, too, knew that what the Lord desires is works. ¯ St. Ignatius of Loyola, another man of action~ demonstrated, too, the compatibility between mysticism and ministry. Unlike the Carmelites Bird With a Broken Wing / 111 Theresa and John whose actions seemed to flow from their mysticism, Ignatius' mystical experience, it seems to me, emerged from his action. In all three of these saints, there was, nevertheless, a mutuality between prayer and service. On a more contemporary scene we have Thomas Mer-ton who~e last years, and last books, suggest, too, a proportionate growth between contemplation and outward reach. The point seems evident. An authentic mystical experience does not begin and end in itself, nor does it begin and end in self and God. While a genuine encounter of this sort will, as St. Theresa tells us in the sixth mansion of The Interior Castle, create an ambivalence (on the one hand, the soul seeks much solitude; on the other "it would like to plunge right into the heart of the world . ") the final option is usually for service. In the seventh mansion, the ultimate of the mystical life, St. Theresa says of mystics, '~They have now ari unusually strong desire to serve Him . So what they desire.now is not merely not to die [the "delectable pain" of the sixth mansion was accompanied by a desire for death, and thus union] but to live for a great many years and to suffer the severest trials, if by so doing they can become the means whereby the Lord is praised." To "become the means" is perhaps what Christian mysticism is all about. Itis what prayer is all about. Whatever methods God chooses to use in cultivating us as his ~means is not the issue. Whether our prayer is like the songs of Blake on his deathbed ("They're not mine, you know. They're not-mine,''~ he said, implying, again, a current of mystical grace), or whether our prayer is the solid, structured meditation of prelude and point does not matter. Whether we are contemplatives seeking to clarify our service, or apostolic religious trying t.o deepen our action by prayer, perhaps does ri'ot matter either. It seems as erroneoog to say that all mysticism is an evasion of reality as.it is to say that we are all c~alled to be. mystics. Service is no more a contradiction in the life of a Christian mystic than mysticism is in ¯ the life Of an apo.stolic religious. History defies such.myths. It seems clear that while Christian mysticism ~s alw_ays characterized by service, Christian service need not be rooted in mysticism. It seems, clear, too, then, that the most practical of us in. the Church today have nothing to fear from an increase of Christian mysticism. That would mean, in effect, a fear of an ¯ increase of charity. In the contemporary drama "The Belle 6f Amherst," Julie Harris re-cords sensitively the insight of another poet, Emily Dickinson (no less eccentric than Blake)as she listens intently to a.warbler on a bush. Emily asks, "Why are y~ou singing, when there is no one here to listen?" The. warbler replies, "I was born to sing." With this, Ern, ily is affirmed as a poet. Watching the bird in flight, she says, "I, too, was born to sing.'" And so it is with each of us, whether we sing (or pray) as warbler or poet. Ministry in the Church and a Structural Concern for Justice Francis X. Meehan Father Meehan is Associate Professor of Moral Theology at St. Charles Borromeo Seminary; Overbrook; Philadelphia, PA 19151. Much has been written recently about theologies of social concern. This article is not an effort to review those theologies. Rather it aims simply to point out some very mainstream considerations on social justice as it per-tains to the Church. Its original context was an ecumenical gathering of Church leaders, and this revision attempts to keep a focus on those social insights that are by now practically consensus teaching. In any consideration of the Church and social justice one must start by citing both the clear problem and the challenge. The problem surely is that we have not been as outstanding as we should have been. Barbara Ward in a booklet written for the Vatican Commission Justice and Peace speaks of guests who are invited to the banquet but have other things to do. She then touches upon the key problem for Christians in developed societies; namely, the problem of not being exposed in any concrete way to massive poverty and of therefore not developing a prophetic voice. She says: In this general climate of indifference, the Christian does not yet stand out as prophet or catalyst. All too many of us aresimply relatively fortunate citizens who., are not exposed to the massive, growing miseries at the base of the world society. We are proving, if proof were needed, that it is very difficult for wealthy societies, like families or individuals, to get through the eye of the needle (The Angry Seventies, p. 61). 42 Ministry in the Church and a Structural Concern for Justice The Challenge Barbara Ward as an economist devoted to human life has given an example of single-mindedness. Throughout her wril~ing she remains hope-ful. She knows well the challenge yet she sees no reason why the Christian community cannot be a worldwide "catalyst of energy, devotion and re-form." She articulates the challenge in a way that sets the focus of this paper: ¯ . . if, then, with courage and persistence and the energy of true hope, Christian citizens are ready in season and out of season, to lobby legislators, rally voters, instruct fellow citizens, worry the indifferent, encourage the active and create a new kind of justice and world responsibility in the Church and in the nations, the world may be saved from the evident wrath to come (pp. 62-63). Notice she asks for a new kind of justice and world responsibility in the Church. Thus she speaks not merely of giving food to a hungry man, but of "lobbying legislators" and "rallying voters." If we take a look at official Church teachings over a long range, we can see in this past one hundred .years one broad and obvious evolution. It is a movement that is very well summarized in that key article of the Pastoral Constitution: The Church in the Modern World, that underscored social concern: Profound and rapid changes make it l~articularly urgent that no one, ignoring the trend of events or drugged by laziness, content himself with a merely individualistic mo-rality. It grows increasingly true that the obligations of justice and love are fulfilled only if each person . . . promotes and assists the public and private institutions dedicated to bettering the conditions of human life (n. 30). It is fitting that such words should be in a document concerned with the Church's relation with the world. For here, too, there is an evolution of awareness. The Church's moral concern gradually becomes, in the social documents of the last century, not only a concern over individual salvation, but also over the collec.tive future. She recognizes that certain structures of history are man-made and that Christians therefore must have a respon-sibility not only for individual men, but also for structures of history. The Church must not be worldly, but she is in the world and has a responsibility for the world. Perhaps such an evolution could be understood by pointing to one man's autobiography as a metaphor. I think the life of Thomas Merton capsulizes a whole movement of the Church. This journey of the Church is symbolized so very aptly by Merton's monastic journey. It has often struck me that his own evolution as a monk said something to us about a model of holiness in the Church of our day. A recent thesis by Sister Elena Maltis makes this point more systematically.~ She cites Merton writing, in his early work, Waters of Siloe: ~"Thomas Merton: Symbol and Synthesis of Contemporary Catholicism." Critic, Spring, 1977, pp. 26 ff. 44 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/1 It [monastic life] takes a man above the terrors and sorrows of modern life as well as above its passing satisfactions. It elevates life to a superhuman level to the peace of the spiritual stratosphere where the storms of human existence become a distant echo and do not disturb the center of the soul--no matter how much they may rage in the senses and the feelings (p. 28). Then she cites the later MertOn who, in his workFaith and Violence, writes with different images of the monastic life: My :own peculiar task in my Church and in my world has been that of the solitary explorer who [instead of jumping on all the latest bandwagons.at once] is bound to search the existential depths of faith in its silences, its ambiguities, and in those certainties which lie deeper than the bottom of anxiety. It is a. kind of submarine life in which faith sometimes mysteriously takes on the aspect of doubt.when, in fact, one has to doubt and reject conventional and superstitious surrogates that have taken the place of faith. (p. 30). Notice holy Mertonno longer conceives of himself as above and beyond the world. He is not in a stratosphere above the terrors and sorrows of modern life, but now, at the bottom of things where the phrase "submarine life" becomes a dominant image. His very spirituality of the 1940's does not cease, but in the 1960's it is a spirituality that takes integrally within itself the role of social criticism. He sums up who we are in the Church today when he says~: That I should have been born in 1915, that I should be the contemporary of Auschwitz; Hiroshima, Viet Nam and the Watts riots, are things about which 1 was not first consulted. Yet they are also events in which, whether I like it or not; I am deeply and personally involved (Contemplation in the World of Action, p. 145). What is central here is not only that a man's spiritual journey should lead him to the welfare of our fellow humans. Indeed this is true of all the saints. But what is central is that now such a spiritual journey leads also to a structural concern for others. Merton is implicated in the world's move-ment. He is, and we are, and the Church is, not only helping others socially in the world as a static theatre, but taking responsibility for the very move-ment of the world itself, for the very milieu of humankind. And the point of this article is that such an hwareness is now flowering in the Church and we ought not to miss it or take it for granted. Perhaps a concrete example will help us see more clearly. In 1830 a French pastor of good will may have courageously preached to factory owners that they must give their wo~kers a living wage. But what he could little understand was what Peter Berger and Thomas Luckman called the "social construc-tion of reality." In other wqrds, reali.ty had been constructed by humans themselves in such a way that ifa converted factory owner did pay a living wage, he would go out of business because of the competition. What was needed was--as we know today--a new construction of reality, namely some empowerment of the workingman through unionization. NotKze that such a new reality had to be created not only to allow workers to achieve . Ministry in the Church and a Structural Concern for Justice / 45 just wages, but also to allow an employer to pay a just wage while remaining competitive. Such an element of structural justice was recognized by Leo XIII when he said in Rerum Novarum that even though someone made an agreement, such an agreement (contract) could be invalid because of the unequal bar-gaining positions. In Leo's teaching we see the beginnings of an awareness in the Church of the meaning of a structural reality in morality. Justice is denied not only by the individually greedy man, but through the inheritance of circumstances embedded in social systems. Application to Ministry In the last eighty years such an insight has developed richly in Church teaching. John XXIII in Mater et Magistra and Paul VI in Populorum Progressio applied the teachings to inequalities inherent in relations with the Third World. There have even been some high points of pastoral ap-plication in the Church. For example it remains the glory of the American Church that she (unlike some of her European sister-Churches) did by and large keep faith with the immigrant workers in her midst. Yet while the insight is old enough to trace to even before Leo, it nevertheless remains a new insight in need of fresh application in many areas of social concern. Most of all it calls for fresh application in the Church's ministry. Ministry must concern itself not only over individual conversion, not only over healing hearts, but also over healing structures. Otherwise the healed heart will be unable to inscribe its fruit of justice on the world itself. In Reinhold Niebuhr's classic terms, "moral man" ~will remain powerless and ineffectual in an "immoral society." The word structure is not always an easy term to understand, It has many meanings in many contexts. A helpful articulation of a meaning sufficient for our purposes here is one given in the statement of the Appa-lachian Bishops. They speak of how the forces of corporate giants become perverted, and destructive growth patterns develop.The principle of ~'max-imization of profit" becomes an idolatrous power. Then they give a clear understanding of what an evil structure does: This power overwhelms the good intentions of noble people, it forces them to com-pete brutally with one another. It pushes people into "conspicuous consumption" and planned obsolescence. It delivers up control to a tiny minority whose values then shape our social structures. Then they point out how difficult it is for good individuals to change things when structures militate against change. We know that there are many sincere business people, zealous reporters, truthful teachers, honest law enforcement officers, dedicated public officials, hard working lawyers and legislators, who try to do a good job. But we know too that, the Way things are set up, it's hard for good people to do a good job. Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/1 Such an insight by the bishops into structural evil corresponds to con-temporary insights into scriptural understandings of the powers of evil. The simple phrase, ~'. the way things are set up, it's hard for good people to do a good job," is a perfect way to describe what theologians today mean by "'the situation of sin." So the power of evil becomes autonomous and embeds itself into structures. These structures entrap us. They tend not to draw good from us but to draw out our worst--sometimes despite good will to the contrary. We have what some see here as one perspective on the original-sin tradition in the Church. Obviously, then, the work of redemp-tion, in which Jesus has given his Body the Church a certain share, must include a healing of this history of sin. Thus the very baptismal function of induction into a saving community implies a ministerial work to heal struc-tures. The Domain of Gospel Ministry and Arthur Simon's Parable The foregoing ushers into focus a problem, namely, how can work for structures remain a gospel work and not merely become a social-secular work. Arthur Simon, the founder and leader of Bread for the World, a Christian Citizens Movement for world food resources, tells a parable that helps us understand this problem of placing work for structures into min-istry. The parable is basically this: Once there was a farming town that could be reached by a narrow road with a bad curve in it. There were frequent accidents on the road especially at the curve, and the preacher would preach to the people of the town to make sure they were Good Samaritans. And so they were, as they would pick the people up on the road, for this was a religious work. One day someone, suggested they buy an ambulance to get the accident victims to the town hospital more quickly. The preacher preached and the people gave, for this was a religious work. Then one day a councilman suggested that the town authorize building a wider road and taking out the dangerous curve. Now it happened that the mayor had a farm market right at the curve on the ~oad and he was quite against taking out the curve. Someone asked the preacher to say a word to the mayor and the congregation next Sunday about it. But the preacher and most of the people figured they had better stay out of politics; so next Sunday the preacher preached on the Good Samaritan Gospel and en-couraged the people to continue their fine work of picking up the accident victims. The parable illustrates what Paul Ricoeur says about man's new aware-ness, namely an awareness of being in relationship with others in structured ways, i.e. not merely as "neighbor" but as socius. Father Chenu, the French Dominican, calls it the.new way of charity. He says that man has always been social, but he adds: Today, not accidentally but structurally the collective event lends scope and intensity to the social dimension--human love treads these lasting paths, these organizations Ministry in the Church and a Structural Concern for Justice / 47 of distributive justice, and these administrative systems (in G. Cottier et al., eds., Eglise et pauvret~, 1965, p. 174). The problem then is very real. When is ministry for life religious and gospel, and when does it become secular? What work for life is natural and what is supernatural? What is gospel and what is humanism? The questions are age-old. And without presuming that the Church today has completely solved the problem, I do think a good part of the answer is already within the Church's official grasp and official teaching. In official meetings and synods, papal and episcopal teachings have addressed the problem and have given us enough of a theological answer to go on. Let us just cite chosen, illustrative texts from the Catholic context. First, the Constitution on the Church in the Modern World has many comments on the subject. But one celebrated sentence is as follows: While we are warned that it profits a man nothing if he gain the whole world and lose himself, the expectation of a new ean.h must not weaken but rather stimulate our concern for cultivating this one . Earthly progress must be carefully distinguished from the growth of Christ's kingdom. Nevertheless, to the extent that the former can contribute to the better ordering of human society, it is of vital concern to the kingdom of God (n. 39). The World Synod of Bishops of 1971 and 1974 both dealt with the problem. The famous statement of 1971 said this: Action on behalf of justice and participation in the transformation of the world fully appear to us as a constitutive dimension of the preaching of the gospel, or, in other words, of the Church's mission for the redemption of the human race and its liberation from every oppressive situation. And in 1974 Pope Paul after citing the danger of losing the religious di-mension of our mission says this: There is no opposition or separation, therefore, but a complementary relationship between evangelization and human progress. While distinct and subordinate one to the other, each calls for the other by reason of their convergence towards the same end: the salvation of man. The continuity of the two Synods is sharply manifested in the Human Rights document of the '74 Synod. There the Bishops used a theology of the Divine Image and taught that the "integral development of persons" makes clearer in man the divine image. Then they say: Hence, she [the Church] believes firmly that the promotion of human rights is required by the gospel and is central to her ministry. Summarizing this brief set of quotes we can say that healing structures of irreverence for life and of injustice is part of the ministry of the Church because such healing is "of vital concern to the kingdom of God" (Gaudium et Spas), "a constitutive dimension of preaching the Gospel" (Synod '71), "required by the gospel arid central to the Church's ministry" (Synod '74). 41~ / Re~iew for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/1 Why take time to cite these examples of official documentation? First, awareness that such insights are now mainstream official teachings will keep us from being intimidated by those who would accuse us of humanism or of becoming social agencies. ' But more than that: it is to underscore that the concern for structural justice and the concern to place the struggle for structural justice within the mission of the Church is not merely a concern of a Daniel Berrigan, of a Helder Camara, or of a Latin American theologi~an, but rather it is official and central teaching within the Church. Most of all it is a matter of rejoicing that such an insight is found not only in official teaching, but is making its way into the popular religious psyche of our.people. At the Eucharistic Congress, when people struggled to touch Mother Theresa, they were struggling to touch, in this case, not someone known for mystic gifts such as Padre Pio, but someone known for simply picking men up offthe sti'eets of Calcutta. But more than that, the people also welcomed Dom Helder Camara. And those who knew his history, knew that his life has been a different struggle from that of Mother Theresa. Dom Helder symbolizes .not just an enormous interpersonal love for the weak, but also the struggle for justice against systems of dependence and exploitation. Dom Helder in the midst of his talk at the Philadelphia Civic Center walked over, picked up and embraced Mother Theresa. I like to think this embrace was more than a kinship of courageous people. Rather I see a symbol of two forms of ministries-in-the-Church meeting and embracing. And in a way, Dom Hel~ler's emphasis is a struggle that poses the most important challenge to Church leaders. His work is less clear, more risky, more apt to provoke misunderstanding even among one's own people, and yet all the more urgent today. The Problem of .Ambiguiiy Yet this ministry .that attempts to heal structures has a special problem connected with it. I would term it the problem of ambiguity. Many Church leaders can agree that gospel includes work for human life and human rights--even structural work. But they rightly fear choosing certain con-crete options that commit the Church to one economic or political view that may riot be the only valid Christian view. The point of Paul Ramsey'.s work Who Speaks for the Church? was to purify us of easy assumptions that the charism of leadership will lead us to right decisions in the complex area of socio-economic and political affairs. So there is a special need for a humility and tentativeness that, in the words of Paul VI, "will rid action of all inflexibility and sectarianism" (Coming Eightidth n. 48). We do not wish to preach our own ideology, but Christ crucified. So we seek to avoid easy partnership. This is a common caution perhaps needed today. But I would like to accent another side to the issue that sometimes Ministry in the Church and a Structural Concern for Justice goes unaccented. Namely, that not always what appears to be neutral ground is really neutral. And sometimes when the Church refi'ains from taking sides in an issue, for fear of partisanship, she sometimes, willy-nilly, by not taking a side has taken a side. Another way of saying it is simply that sometimes our silence speaks loudly. This may not be an everyday occa-sion, but it does happen that situations become radicalized to the point where there just is not ample neutral ground in which a large institution can find room. Historical examples may be easiest here. In the Germany of th~ 1930's was there a political neutral ground? Can we not at least in hindsight recognize that what looked like neutral ground was not so neutral? There was a personal heroism of many priests, ministers and bishops, yet in the episcopal statements of the German hierarchy (in the words of Gordon Zahn) there was "not even a hint of any question, of whether or not the Hitler war effort met the conditions set for a 'just war' " (cited in Paul Hanley Furfey, The Morality Gap, p. 13). Another example. In the bombings of Hamburg of July-August, 1943, the dead numbered 30,000. The raids on Dresden of February, 1945 killed some 135,000. On March 9 and 10 the raids over a four mile residential district of Tokyo are estimated to have killed 84,000. On August 6 and 9 the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki killed an estimated 68,000 and 38,000 respectively. My point here is that the killing of noncombatants was even at that time, clearly recognized as evil. Yet one can find no significant corporate criticism of these actions. Moreover, despite Pius XlI's pleas to statesmen for a negotiated peace, no official Catholic spokesmen gave sustained'protest against the allied policy of unconditional surrender--an omission John Courtney Murray called a "classic example" of a failure to apply moral principles. ¯ A third example concerns racism and segregation in this country. It could be summed up in a symbol. The symbol is contained in the words of Leander Perez, political boss of Plaquemines Parish in New Orleans. He was, you may remember, the man excommunicated for his opposition to the integration of the parochial schools (a courageous act .ot~ Archbishop Rum-mel). But Perez' comment was "How come we could have slaves, separate schools and churches for these Negroes for ages and ages and now all of a sudden it's a sin?" (see Paul Hanley Furfey, The Morality Gap). The point in all of these questions is not historical Monday morning quarterbacking. Indeed even at the time of these incidents there were clear teachings already in the mainstream of Catholic thought--teachings that were not applied. The point is that the Church took stances that at the time m. ay have seemed to be stances of moderation or may have seemed to be prudent neutral ground. But now we know they were not, Rather they appear to have been examples of an immigrant Church so anxious to be " established that it became absorbed in the zeitgeist of the times, and so lost its prophetic voice. 50 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/1 The main point is this: we may be right in our anxiety that the Church not be pulled into partisan blocs, in our anxiety not to provoke undue division in the Church by too quickly identifying one social option as the gospel option. But we must be careful not to allow this anxiety to bring us to a silence that really is an unwitting speaking in behalf of the status quo. There is a corollary to this problem. It concerns the matter of com-petefice. Often times it is stated that the Church or a churchman cannot speak on an issue because it is so complex and specialized. Surely we must be careful of easy and abrupt position-taking in the complex areas of so-ciooeconomics and international politics. But the deeper question must always be asked. Namely why is it that at times we choose certain areas in which to be competent, to research care-fully and to locate manpower and resources and other areas in which we do not? We must always ask ourselves what might be our cultural and theo-logical biases that predispose us to give certain questions a priority. Too many good Germans said they could not protest because, after all, they really did not know enough. Dualisms That Lead to Neglect Sometimes a certain idea about ministry can lead a man of good will to neglect a certain gospel reverence for life. For example, I am sure that the chaplains of institutions in which recent press releases have exposed cruel treatment would be men of good will. But if they observed some of the same things newspaper reporters saw, and if they did not complain in any effec-tive way, we must ask how did they conceive their ministry? What kind of dualisms between soul and body, between spiritual and physical, between creation and redemption must have been going on in their understanding of ministry? Has speaking in behalf of ill-treated mental patients, ill-treated children, ill-treated elderly in profit:making nursing homes, ill-treated pris-oners, ill-treated h

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

Issue 33.5 of the Review for Religious, 1974. ; Review lot Religious is edited by faculty members of the School of Divinity of St. Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. Published bimonthly and copy-right ~) 1974 by Review ]or Religious. Composed, printed, and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $1.75. Sub-scription 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. 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 address. R. F. Smith, S.J. Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor September 1974 Volume 33 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, books for review, and materials for "Subject Bibliography for Religious" 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, SJ.; St. Joseph's Church; 321 Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19106. Papal Bull Holy Year Proclaiming the Paul VI Given below is the English translation of Paul VI's Bull proclaiming the Holy Year that will begin on Christmas Eve, 1974. The translation is that which appeared in the English edition of Osservatore romano. Paul, servant of the servants of God, to all the faithful: Health and apostolic blessing. As the universal jubilee to be celebrated in Rome approaches, the memorials of the Apostles shine forth more brightly for the faithful as the goal of pilgrimage--the holy places of Rome where the tombs of the Apostles Peter and Paul are worthily preserved and religiously venerated, those "holy fathers" through whom the ~ity became not only the "diSciple of truth" but also the teacher of truth1 and the center of Catholic unity. Down the centuries, these memorials have always impelled the Chris-tian people to be fervent in their faith and to testify to ecclesial communion. This is so because the Church recognizes her identity and the cause of her unity in the foundation laid .by Jesus Christ, namely, the Apostles." From as early as the second century the faithful came to Rome to see and venerate the "trQphies" of the Apostles Peter and Paul in those very places where they are preserved,:' and they. made pilgrimages to the church of Rome to contemplate her "regal dignity."4 In the fourth century the pilgrimage to 1See St. Leo the Great, Sermon 82, 1 : PL 54, 422. ZSee Rev 21 : 14. 3See the testimony of Gaius, an ecclegiastic of the time of Pope Zephrynus, as given in Eusebius, Historia ecclesiastica, II,25,7. 4See the inscription of Abercius, bishop of Hierapolis in Phrygia at the end of the second century; the text and translation is given in M. Guarducci, "L'iscrizione di Abercio," Ancient Society, v. 2 (1971), pp. 176-7. 993 994 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/5 Rome became in the West the principal form of that kind of religious journey. It was similar to, and had the same religious purpose as, the pil-grimage which was made in the East to Jerusalem where the Lord's sepulchre is found? In the early Middle Ages, those who were "linked to the Chair of Peter,'''~ and those who wished to make a profession of their orthodox faith at the tombs of the Apostles,; especially monks, came off pilgrimage to Rome from various parts of Europe and even from the East. The idea of a pilgrimage increased further from the 12th to the 13th century, becoming all the more common by reason of a renewal of spirituality and popular piety which spread throughout Europe at that time. This renewal served to enrich the ancient notion which the Church received from tradition and which was equally 1~o be found in other religions, namely, the concept of a "pilgrimage undertaken for the love ot~ God.''s The jubilee year originated in this way; it was as it were the result of a maturing process in the doctrinal; Biblical and theological fields.:' It emerged plainly for the first time in the year 1220 when our predecessor Honorius III proclaimed a jubilee.year for pilgrimage to the tomb of St. Thomas ~ Becket.1° Later, as is well known, pilgrims came to Rome to the basilicas of St. Peter and St. Paul, in the great popular and penitential movement of the year 1300, a movement confirmed by our predecessor Boniface VIII.11 This was marked by a longing to obtain pardon from God and peace among men. The move-ment was directed to this very lofty motive: "the glory of God and the exaltation of the faith.''1~ The Roman Jubilee of 1300 was the beginning and the pattern for those which have followed (every 25 years from the, 15th century onwards, except when the series was interrupted by extraneous circumstances). This is an indication of the continuity and vitality v~hich have always confirmed the relevance of this venerable institution for every age. It is correct to say that the jubilees celebrated in recent times have pre- ~See St. Maximus of Turin, Homily 72: PL 57, 405b. GThe expression is found in a letter of St. Columban to Pope Boniface IV in 613: Sancti Columbani opera ed. G. S. M. Walder (Dublin, 1957), p. 48. rConcerning this custom see F. M. Mignanti, lstoria della sacrosanta Basilica Vaticana (Rome/Turin, 1867), p. 180. 8See in general B. Kotting, Peregrinatio religiosa: Wall]ahrten in der Antike und das Pilgerwesen in der Alten Kirche (Regensburg, 1950). ~R. Foreville, "L'id6e de jubil6 chez les th6ologiens et les canonistes (XII-XIII s.) avant l'institution du Jubil6 Romain (1300)," Revue d'histoire eccl~siastique, v. 56 (1961), pp. 401-23. 10p. Pressuti, Regesta Honorii 1H (Rome, 1888-95), p. 1840; the text is given in R. Foreville, "Le Jubil6 de saint Thomas b. Becket du XIII au XV sii~cle (1220-1470)," Etudes et documents (Paris, 1958), pp. 163-4. alBull, Antiquorum habet fida relatio, dated February 22, 1300: Extravagantes Comm. V,IX, I. ~zSee the gloss of Cardinal Giovanni Monaco on the same bull. Papal Bull Proclaiming the Holy Year / 995 served this outstanding value whereby the unity and renewal of the Church aCe affirmed in a special way and allmen are encouraged to recognize one another as brothers and to walk in the path of peace. Such a desire was manifested at the beginning of this century when our predecessor Leo XIII proclaimed' the jubilee year in 1900. The human family was~ filled with the same hopes and expectations when, a,quarter of a century later, afflicted by grave ,dangers and contention, 'it awaited the Holy Year of 1925. These were proposed for the special Holy Year of 1933 on the occasion of the 19th centenary of the redemption. The same noble aspirations for justice and peaceful coexistence among men were put forward by Pius" XII for the last jubilee, in the year 1950. I It seems to us that in the'present Holy Year all the principal and im-portant motives of the previous jubilees are present and expressed in sum-mary form in the .themes that we ourself laid down in our discourse of May 9, 1973 when we first announced ,the Holy Year: renewal and reconcilia-tion. a:~ We have offered these themes for the reflection of pastors and faithful, particularly during the anticipated celebration of the jubilee in local churches, and we have.added to them our exhortations and our catechesis. But the aspirations that the two themes enunciate and the lofty ideals that they express ~vill find a more complete realization in Rome, where pilgrims to the tombs of the Apostles Peter and Paul and to the memorials of the other martyrs will come into more ready contact with the ancient sources of the Church's faith.and life, in order to be converted by repentance, strengthened in charity, hnd united more closely with their brethren by the grace of God. Thi~ renewal and reconciliation pertain in the first place to the interior life, above all because the root of all good and, unfortunately of all evil, is found in the depths of the heart. It is in the depths of the heart therefore that conversions of metanoia must take place, that is, a change of direction, of attitude, of option, of one's way of life. But also for the Church as a whole, ten years after the end of the Second Vatican Council we view the Holy Year as the ending of a period of reflection and reform arid the beginning of a new phase of building up in the theological, spiritual, and pastoral spheres, to be developed on the foundations laboriously laid down and consolidated during the past years; in accordance with the principles of new life in Christ and of the communion of all men in Him who reconciled us to the Father by His blood,a~ For the whole w~arld this call to renewal and reconciliation is in harmony a3See Paul VI, "Allocution Announcing the Plans for a 1975 Holy Year," May 9, 1973: AAS, v. 65 (1973), pp. 322-5. 14See 2 Cor 5:18-20; Rm 5:10. 996 / Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/5 with the most sincere aspirations for freedom, justice, unity, and peace that we see wherever men become aware of their most serious problems and suffer from the mishaps produced by divisions and fratricidal wars. With the message of the Holy Year, therefore, the Church wishes to indicate to all men of good will- the vertical dimension of life that ensures reference of all aspirations and experiences to an absolute and truly universal value, without which it is vain to hope that mankind will once more find a point of unification and a guarantee of true freedom. Even though it is charac-teristic of many sectors of modern society to assume secuIar forms, the Church, without interfering in matters which do not come within her competence, nevertheless wishes to impress on men the need to be con-verted to God who alone is necessary,a5 and to imbue all their actions with fear and love of Him. For faith in God is the most powerful safeguard of the human conscience and is the solid foundation of those relationships of justice and brotherhood the world yearns for. The pilgrimage to Rome by representatives of all the local churches, both pastors and people, will therefore be a sign of a new process of conversion and brotherly reconciliation. As the minister of the word and of the grace of reconciliation, we respond to this sign of the interior dispositions of the pilgrims and of the renewed resolve of the Christian people whom they represent, by imparting the gift of the jubilee indulgence, insofar as we are able, to all the pilgrims who come to Rome and to all those who, though prevented from making the journey, accompany them in spirit. II It is well known from the Church's very ancient custom that the indul-gence attached to many penitential practices was granted in a special way as a gift on the occasion of pilgrimages to the places sanctified by the life, passion, and resurrection of our Savior Jesus Christ and by the confession of the Apostles. Today, too, we associate ourself with that venerable tradition, according to the principles and norms that we have ourself laid down in the apostolic constitution Indulgentiarum doctrina~'; and which we wish to recall briefly at this point. Since Christ is our "justice" and, as has been fittingly said, our "indul-gence," we, as the humble minister of Christ the Redeemer, .willingly extend a share in the gift of the indulgence~in accordance with the Church's tradi-tion- to all the faithful who, through a profound conversion of heart to God, through works of penance, piety, and brotherly solidarity, sincerely and fervently attest their desire to remain united in charity with God and l~See Lk 10:42; Mt 6:33. ~6Apostolic Constitution, lndulgentiarum doctrina: AAS v. 59 (1967), pp. 5-24. Papal Bull Proclaiming the Holy Year / 997 their brethren and to make progress in that charity.~: In fact, this sharing comes from the fullness of the treasury of salvation which is primarily found in Christ the Redeemer Himself, "in whom the satisfactions and merits of His redemption subsist in all their value.''xs In this'fullness in Christ, which we have all received,x" there shines forth "the most ancient dogma of the communion of saints, whereby, in Christ and through Christ, the lives of the individual sons of God are linked with the lives of all the other Christian brethren by a marvelous bond in the supernatural unity of the Mystical Body of Christ, as in one mystical person.''~° For, "by the hidden and benevolent mystery of the divine will, men are linked together in a supernatural relationship, whereby just as the sin of one also harms the others, so also the holiness of one is beneficial to the others.'''-'~ By means of the indulgence, the Church, making use of her power as minis-ter of the redemption of Christ the Lord, communicates to the faithful a sharing in this fullness of Christ in the communion of saints,'-"-' providing them with the ample means of salvation. Thus the Church, aiding and embracing them like a mother, sustains her weak and infirm children, who.find a firm support in the Mystical Body of Christ, which in its entirety works for their conversion through charity, example, and prayer. Thus penitents find in this singular form of ecclesial charity a powerful aid to help them put off the old man and put on the new. Conversion and renewal consist precisely in this.'-':' In fact, the Church's aim in granting indulgences is not only that of helping the faithful expiate the punishment they have deserved but also that of stimulating them to carry out works of piety, penance, and charity, and in particular works that serve to favor the growth of faith and the common good.~' III For this reason, interpreting.as it were the Church's maternal sentiments, we impart the gift of the plenary indulgence to all the faithful who are prop-erly disposed, and who, after confessing their sins and receiving Holy Communion, pray for the intentions of the supreme pontiff and the college of bishops: 1:See Paul V1, Letter to Cardinal de Fiirstenburg Officially Announcing the Beginning o! the 1975 Holy Year, dated May 31, 1973: AAS, v. 65 (1973), pp. 357-60. ~SApostolic Constitution, lhdulgentiarum doctrina, 5: AAS, v. 59 (1967), p. 11. ~gSee Jn 1:16. -~0Apostolic Constitution, lndulgentiarum doctrina, 5: AAS, v. 59 (1967), pp. 10-1; and see St. Thomas Aquinas, Summa theologiae, III,q.48,a.2 adl; and q.49,a.l. ZlApostolic constitution, lndulgentiarum doctrina, 4: AAS, v. 59 (1967), p. 9. '-'Zlbid., 8: AAS, v. 59 (1967), p. 16. '-':~See Paul VI, Letter to Father 'Constantine Koser on the 750th Anniversary o] the Portiuncula Indulgence, dated July 14, 1966: AAS, v. 58 (1966), pp. 631-4. z4See the Apostolic Constitution, lndulgentiarum doctrina, 8: AAS, v. 59 (1967), p. 17. 998 / Review Jor Religious, Volume 33, 1974/5 (1) If they undertake a sacred pilgrimage to one of the patriarchal basilicas (the basilica of St. Peter's in the Vatican,,St. Paul's Outside-the- Walls, ttie Lateran Archbasilica of the Most Holy Savior, or St. Mary Major), or to some other church or place of the city of Rome designated by the competent authority, and devoutly take part in a liturgical celebration there, especially the Sacrifice of the Mass, or some exercise of piety (e.g., the way bf the cross, the rosary); (2) If they visit, in a group or individually, one of the four patri-archal basilicas and spend some time there in devout recollection concluding with the Our Father, the profession of faith in. any approved form, and a prayer to the Blessed Virgin Mary; (3) If, being prevented by illness or some other grave reason from going on a pilgrimage to Rome, they unite themselves spiritually with this pilgrim-age and offer their prayers and sufferings to God; (4) If, being prevented while in Rome. by illness or some other grave reason from taking part in a liturgical celebration or exercise of piety or visit made by their group (ecclesial family or social, as mentioned in 1 and 2 above), they unite themselves spiritually with the group and offer their prayers and suffering to God. During the Holy Year, moreover, the other concessions of indulgences remain in force, with the proviso as before that a plenary indulgence can be gained only once a day;~'' however, all indulgences can always be applied tb the dead in modo suffragii."-''~ For the same reasons, namely, in order that the faithful be provided with ¯ every possible aid to salvation, and to help priests, especially confessors, we proclaim that confessors taking part "in the jubilee pilgrimage may use the faculties they have been given in their own dioceses by the legitimate au-thority,~ so that both on the journey and in Rome they may hear the con-fessions of the faithful accompanying them on the pilgrimage, and also the confessions ot~ others who, together with the members of their own group, may approach them. The right of the penitentiaries of the patriarchal basilicas regarding the confessionals reserved to them is maintained,'-'~ and special faculties will be granted by the Sacred Apostolic Penitentiary to the penitentiaries. IV We stated above that the following two principal purposes have been established for the Holy Year: spiritual renewal in Christ and reconciliation with God, and we have said that these aims concern not only the interior '-',~See Enchiridion indulgentiarum, norma 24, para. 1. ~Ibid. norma 4. ~zSee Paul VI's motu proprio, Pastorale munus, I, 14: AAS, v. 56 (1964), p. 8. "-SSee First Synod o] Rome, 1960, art. 63. Papal Bull Proclaiming the Holy Year / 999 life of each individual but the whole Church, and also, .in a certain sense, the whole of human society. For this reason we earnestly exhort all con-cerned to consider these proposals, to undertake initiativ,es and to coordinate programs so that during the Holy Year real progress may be made in the renewal of the Church and also in the pursuit of certain goals very dear to us, in accordance with the farsighted spirit of the Second Vatican Ecu-menical Council. Repentance, the purification of the heart, and conversion to God must consequently bring about an increase in the apostolic activities of the Church. During the Holy Year, therefore, generous efforts must be made to further evangelization, which is certainly the first of all the activities to be promoted. For the pilgrim Church "has been divinely sent to all nations that she might be 'the universal sacrament of salvation' "'-'~' and she "is by her very nature mis.sionary,' . and in the course of her history is renewed to the extent that she shows herself ready to accept and to deepen through faith the gospel of Jesus Christ the Son of God, and to proclaim His saving message to men by word and the witness of her life. The coming assembly of the Synod of Bishops does not have a merely extrinsic and fortuitous connection with the Holy Year.-On the contrary, as we have already stated, "a zealous effort must be made to coordinate and closely link both these ecclesial events.'':~ In this regard the Synod will pro-pose directives and suggestions for the reflection of pastors gathered about the supreme pontiff, so that they may carefully consider in the light of faith "the evangelization of the modern world," taking into account, in the light of the charity of Christ, the wishes of the whole Church and the more urgent needs of our time. Therefore devout attention to the word of God together with catechetical instruction given to the faithful of every state and of all ages must lead Christians to purify their way of life and to a higher knowledge of faith; it must dispel doubts and stimulate the negligent to joyfully activate in their lives the gospel message; it must impel everyone towards a conscious and fruitful sharing in the sacraments; it must encourage communities and indi-viduals to give witness to the faith by the uprightness and strength .of their lives, so that the world may see the reason for the hope that is in us.:"-' Now ten years after the SecQnd Vatican Council began, the great and salutary work of renewal in the fields of the pastoral ministry, the practice of penance, and the sacred liturgy, we consider it altogether fitting that this z~Vatican Council II, Ad gentes divinitus (Decree on the Missionary Activity o] the Church), I: AAS, v. 58 (1966), p. 947. :"qbid., 2: AAS, v. 58 (1966), p. 948. :;~"Discourse to the General Secretariat of the Synod of Bishops," Osservatore romano, April 6, 1974, p. 4. :~See 1 Pt 3:15. 1000 / Review jor Religious, Volume 33, 1974/5 work should be reviewed and furthered. If what the Church has clearly approved is kept in mind, it will be possible to recognize the valid and legitimate elements to be found in the many and varied experiments that have been carried out everywhere. Similarly, these same elements can, by a more earnest effort, be put into practice in accordance with the norms and principles suggested by pastoral prudence and a sense of true piety. The presence of large numbers of pilgrims, both pastors and people, from Christian communities throughout the world, brought together in Rome by a fraternal desire to gain the true benefits of the grace and love of Christ, will undoubtedly afford excellent opportunities for putting forward, comparing, and evaluating studies and viewpoints of various kinds. This will most cer-tainly bc the case if congresscs and meetings are held at different levels in the ecclesial community and by varied groups of experts, and provided that prayer and a ready willingness to carry out the apostolate are joined together. At this point we wish to draw particular attention to the need to find a just and proper balance between the differing demands of the pastoral min-istry today, a balance similar to that which has been admirably achieved in the sacrcd liturgy. We refer to the balance between tradition and renewal, b~twccn the necegsarily religious nature of the Christian apostolate and its effectivencss as a force in all fields of social living, between free and spon-taneous activity--which some are accustomed to call charismatic--in this a.postolate and fidelity to laws based on the commands of Christ and of the pastors of the Church. For these laws, laid down by the Church and con-tinually brought up to date, make allowance for individual experiments within the Christian community, in such a way that they are a help in build-ing up the body of Christ, which is the Church, and not a hindranceY:' We wish likewise to draw attention to the ever increasing need to pro-mote the kind of apostolate which, without damaging the Church's necessary and traditional institutions, namely dioceses and parishes, takes special account of particular local circumstances and categories of people. Such an apostolate must ensure that the leaven of the gospel permeates those forms of modern social living which often differ from traditional forms of ecclesial life and seem foreign to the communities "in which the faithful gather to-gether and are linked" in prayer, faith, and charity. The forms we are thinking of are principally those of workers, members of the academic world, and young people. It will also be necessary to examine carefully the methods of teaching religion and of preaching the sacred word of God, to insure that they meet the needs of our time. This mt~st be done with the aim of finding effective methods. Special care must be taken to insure that the media of social com-munications promote the human and Christian progress both of individuals and of communities. :~.aSee Rm 15:2; 1 Cor. 14:3; Eph. 4:12. Papal Bull Proclaiming the Holy Year / 1001 These are questions of the greatest seriousness and importance. We must face up to them and with humble prayer seek the grace of the Holy Year in order to solve them. V As is well known, i~ recent years one of the Church's most pressing con-cerns has been to disseminate everywhere a message of charity, of social awareness, and of peace, and to promote, as far as she can, works of justice and solidarity among all men, whether individuals, social groups, or peoples. We earnestly desire, therefore, that the Holy Year, through the works of charity which it suggests to the faithful and which it asks of them, should be an opportune time for strengthening and supporting the moral conscious-ness of all the faithful and of that wider community of all men which the message of the Church can reach if an earnest effort is made. The ancient origins of the jubilee as seen in the laws and institutions of Israel clearly show that this social dimension is part of its very nature. In fact, as we read in the Book of Leviticus,:" the jubilee year, precisely be-cause it was dedicated in a special way to God, involved a new ordering of all things that were recognized as belonging to God: the .land, which was al-lowed to lie fallow and was given back to its former owners; economic goods, insofar as debts were remitted; and, above all, man, whose dignity and free-dom were reaffirmed in a special way by the emancipation of slaves. The year of God, then, was also the year of man, the year of the earth, the year of the poor, and upon this view of the whole of human reality there shone a new light which emanated from the clear recognition of the supreme dominion of God over the whole of creation. In today's world also the problems which most disturb and torment mankind--economic and social questions, the question of ecology and sources of energy, and above all that of the liberation of the oppressed and the uplifting of all men to a new dignity of life-~can have light cast on them by the message of the Holy Year. We wish, however, to invite all the sons and daughters of the Church, and especially the pilgrims coming to Rome, to undertake certain definite tasks which, as successor of Peter and head of that church "which presides over the universal gathering of charity,'':~' we now publicly propose and com-mend to all. We refer to the carrying out of works of faith and charity for the benefit of our needy brethren in Rome and in other chu'rches of the world. These works will not necessarily be grandiose ones, although such are.in no way to be excluded. In many cases what are today called "micro-realizations" will be sufficient, corresponding as they do to the gospel spirit of charity. In this field the Church, in view of the modest resources at her :~"Lv 25: 8ff. :~r'See St. Ignatius of Antioch, Epistle to the Romans, salutation: Funk, v. 1, p. 252. 1002 / Review jot Religious, Volume .33, 1974/5 disposal, will perhaps have to limit herself more and more to giving men nothing more than the widow's mite.:"~ But she knows and teaches that the good which counts most is that which, in humble and very often unknown ways, manages to provide help where there is a small need and to heal small wounds--things which often find no place in large projects of social reform. Nevertheless, the Church feels that it is necessary to give encourage-ment also to these larger programs for promoting justice and the progress of peoples. She renews her call to all those who have the power and the duty to build up in the world a more perfect order of social and human relations, urging them not to give up because of the difficulties of the present times and not to be won over by selfish interests. Once more we make a particularly strong appeal on behalf of developing countries and of people still afflicted by hunger and by war. Let special attention be given to the many needs which oppress man today, to the finding of employment by which men can provide for the needs of life, to housing which so many lack, to schools which need much assistance, to social and medical aid, and to the develop-ment and safeguarding of decent public moral standards. We should like also to express the humble and sincere desire that in this present Holy Year, too, in accordance with the tradition of previous jubilees, the proper authorities of the different nations should consider the possibility of wisely granting an amnesty to prisoners, as a witness of clemency and equity, especially to those who have given sufficient proof of moral and civic rehabilitation, or who may have been caught up in political and social upheavals too immense for them to be held fully responsible. We express in anticipation our gratitude ~ind invoke the Lord's abundant blessings on all those who will strive to insure that this message of charity, of social awareness, and of freedom, which the Church addresses to all men in the lively hope that she may be understood and listened to, is ac-cepted and translated into reality in the political and social order. In express-ing this hope we are conscious of following a wonderful tradition which began with the law of Israel and found its fullest expression in our Lord Jesus Christ who, from the very beginning Of His ministry, presented Him-self as the fulfillment of the ancient promises and figures connected with the jubilee year: "The spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to free those who are oppressed, to proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord.'':~: Vl If there is one spiritual advantage which we especially desire from the :";See Lk 21:2; Mk 12:42. ZrLk 4:18-9. Papal Bull Proclabning the Holy Year / 1003 celebration of the Holy Year, .it is an increase in the number of those who devote their lives to serving the Church, especially priests and religious. For in order that the paths of grace and the means of salvation which the Holy Year indicates and offers to all the faithful may be properly explained and made available, there will always be a need for those sacred ministers and witnesses of Christ's gospel who by completely following the Lord show their fellowmen, namely the men of this and subsequent ages, the way of penance and of holiness. Thus, the voice of God must be listened to diligently. He never ceases to stir up and invite chosen individuals to dedicate themselves generously to the .service of the Church and the whole human race by the exercise of the priestly ministry and by the faithful witness of the religious life. Some will be called by God to offer themselves to Him through obedience and sacred celibacy and as priests of Christ to teach and sanctify and lead the faithful wherever they may be. Others, men and women of various ages and conditions, will be attracted to the religious life, so that by fulfilling their baptismal promises through a higher way of life they may fully live in the spirit and truly benefit the Church and society. We desire strongly that the multitude of these especially dear members of the Church may increase and flourish more and more, so that through their priesthood and t~e~activity of their religious life they may bear the joyful message of Christ to the ends of the earth and all give glory to the heavenly Father. VII Finally, we wish to proclaim and preach that the reconciliation of Chris-tians is one of the principal aims of the Holy Year. For, before all men can be brought together and restored to the grace of God our Father, com-munion must be reestablished between those who by faith have acknowl-edged and accepted Jesus Christ as the Lord of Mercy who sets men i~ree and unites them in the spirit of love and truth. For this reason the jubilee year, which the Catholic Church has accepted as part of her own custom and tradition, can serve as a most opportune period for spiritual renewal and for the promotion of Christian unity. We would, moreover, point out that the Second Vatican Council has taught that every effort and undertaking directed toward the reconciliation of Christians and all true ecumenism must necessarily start from an inner conversion of the heart, since the desire for Christian communion springs and grows from spiritual renewal, self-denial, the full exercise of charity, and fidelity to revealed truth?~ It is here that there is to be found the full and proper realization of the whole ecumenical movement to which the Catholic Church adheres as far as she is able, and through which Churches and communities not yet fully .~sSee Unitatis redintegratio (Decree on Ecumenism), 7: AAS, v. 57 (1965), p. 97. 1004 / Review [or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/5 in communion with the Apostolic See seek and desire the perfect unity willed by Christ. It is in fact the task and duty of the whole Church to reestablish this unity in full ecclesial communion.:'~' The year of grace, in this sense, provides an opportunity for doing special penance for the divisions which exist among Christians; it offers an occasion for renewal in the sense of a heightened experience of holiness of life in Christ; it allows progi'ess toward that hoped for reconciliation by intensified dialogue and concrete Christian collaboration in the salvation of the world: "that they also may be one in us, so that the world may believe.'''~ We have expressed once more our intentions and our desires concerning the celebration of the Holy Year in this city of Rome. Now we invite our brothers in the episcopate and all the pastors and faithful of the churches throughout .the world, of those churches also which are not in full communion with the Roman Church, and indeed all who believe in God, to participate at least spiritually in this feast of grace and redemption, in which Christ offers Himself as the teacher of life. Together with the pastors and faithful on pilgrimage to the tombs of the Apostles and the early martyrs, we desire to profess faith in God the almighty and merciful Father and in Jesus Christ our Redeemer. For our part we would hope that all who come to Rome to see Peter'1 may through us experience in the Holy Year the truth of the words of St. Leo the Great: "For in the whole church Peter repeats each day, 'You are Christ the Son of the living God,' and every tongue which confesses the Lord is inspired by the teaching of this voice.'"': We would wish also that through our ministry and that of our brother priests a huge multitude of faithful may come to the sources of salvation.":' May the holy door which we shall open on the night of Christmas Eve be a sure sign of this new approach to Christ who alone is the way"" and the door.4'~ It will be a sure sign too of the paternal affection with which, filled with love and desiring peace, we open our heart to all. We implore the Blessed Virgin Mary, the holy Mother of the Redeemer and of the Church, Mother of grace and of mercy, collaborator of reconcili-ation and shining example of the new life, to ask her Son to grant to all our brethren and sons and daughters the grace of this Holy Year, to renew and preserve them. To her hands and to her maternal heart we commend the beginning, the development, and the conclusion of this most important matter. 3Olbid., 5: AAS, v. 57 (1965), p. 96. 4°Jn 17:21. 41See Gal 1 : 18. 4"-Sermon 3: PL 54, 146. ¯ ~:~See Is 12:3. ¯ ~4See Jn 14:6. t~See Jn 10:7,9. Papal Bull Proclaiming the Holy Year / 1005 We wish this our letter to take full and immediate effect in such a manner that. whatsoever has been laid down and decreed in it be religiously ob-served by all concerned and come into force, all things to the contrary not-withstanding. If anyone knowingly or unknowingly shall act other than in accordance with what we have laid down, we order that such action be con-sidered altogether null and void. Given in Rome, at St. Peter's, on the 23rd day of May, the solemnity of the Ascension of the Lord, in the year 1974, the 1 lth of our pontificate. 1, Paul, Bishop of the Catholic Church The American Religious, Evangelizer at Home Peter J. Henriot, S.J. The following is the text of the address that Father Henriot delivered to the 17th Annual Assembly of the Conference of Major Superiors of Men held in Chicago June 16-20, 1974. Father Henriot is a staff associate of the Center of Concern; 3700 13th Street, N.E.; Washington, D. C. 20017. In a recent article in America magazine, Father Hubert Horan, a White Father who spent several years as a missionary in Tanzania, questioned whether the topic of the upcoming Synod, "evangelization," was a "cop-out," a retreat from more potentially controversial questions. Given his own mis-sionary understanding of "evangelization," he felt that it certainly was not an insignificant topic, but one which would be rich and fruitful in increasing our understandings and actions as Church in the world today. But Father Horan did admit that the term is a "slippery one," open to ever wider and wider interpretations. In a sense, we might say that evangelization, like charity, "covers a multitude of sins." Thus in countless discussions preceed-ing, during, and after the Synod this fall, discussions such as we are in-volved in these days here in Chicago, this topic will be explored, broadened and narrowed, and, hopefully, appropriated in our own individual lives and in the lives of our communities. This morning, in addressing the topic, "The American Religious, Evan-gelizers at Home," I will not be offering you any neat and compact new definition of evangelization. I know that you all recognize the difficulty-- the folly---of attempting that, since we are all grappling with what this term means. I do not apologize, therefore, for using the meaning which the official pre-Synod document has adopted for the sake of clarity, namely, "the activity whereby the Church proclaims the gospel so that the faith may be aroused, may unfold, and may grow." The American Religious, Evangelizer at Home / 1007 Evangelization and Action for Justice How the A~erican religious is called upon today, to take part in this task of evangelization is a question critical to our vocation of service in the Church. I would like to narrow our focus of attention during this day to one aspect or dimension of the task of evangelization, an aspect which was defined and delineated at the last Synod in 1971. This aspect ,is found in a sentence which I must adroit I have probably overused by quoting it inces-santly, "in season and out of season." The sentence is from the Synod's statement, Justice in the World: Action on behalf of justice and participation in the transformation of the world fully appear to us as a constitutive dimension of the preaching of the Gospel, or, in other words, of the Church's mission for the redemption of the human race and its liberation from every oppressive situation. The preaching of the gospel--the task of evangelization--includes as a "con-stitutive dimension" the task of "action for justice," the commitment to trans-form a world where increasingly we hear, again in the words of the Synod, "the cry of those who suffer violence and are oppressed by unjust systems and structures." I want to share with you this morning my own understanding of why [l~is "action for justice" is constitutive to the task of evangelization, and why it is worth reflecti~ng on, praying over, and resolvihg about in our focus on the "American Religious, Evangelizer at Home." But let me firs[ make one thing perfectly clear, to borrow a phrase. My emphasis here is not upon "social action," the "social apostolate," or similar segmental aspects of religious life. My emphasis is upon a characteristic, a modality, of religious life which must--if religious life is to be evangelical--be c6nstitutive of its existence and practice~ in our Church and our world today. The Global Scene Our discussion has to be placed in context, and not carried on in a vacuum. "]'he context is our modern world, where, again citing the words of the 1971 Synod, "social structures place obiective obstacles in the way of conversion of hearts, or even of the realization of the ideal of charity." Less than two weeks ago I participated in a conference of over one hundred major religious leaders from Protestant, Catholic, and Jewish groups in the United States, called to discuss and plan the response of churches and synagogues to the current crisis in .global justice. During three days we heard factual analyses of the world situation from diverse figures such as Robert McNamara, President of the World Bank, and Neville Kanakaratne, Ambassador to the United States from Sri Lanka (Ceylon) and a leading Third World spokesperson. We heard theological analyses of'Why religious people should respond, from people such as Archbishop Marcos McGrath of Panama, and Rabbi Marc Tannenbaum, of the American Jewish Com- 1008 / Review [or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/5 mittee--who both spoke of liberation from oppression as being central to the message of God's dealing with His people. And the participants planned and committed themselves to strategies for change: through the political system, in lifestyle, in education, in investment policies, and so forth. Finally, the conference received a ringing "statement of conscience," which spoke of the need for a profound conversion, in values, interests, and loyal-ties, in policies, institutions, and patterns of behavior, if any effective steps were.to be taken toward meeting the crisis of global justice. I would like to read one of the opening paragraphs of that statement to you, because I believe that it puts a context to some of the things we will be discussing~ The conference said: As Americans we have come to realize how many of our national policies, of our institutional structures of production, marketing and defense, and of our current personal patterns of conduct and consumption, are all inextricably linked to the ongoing av, d explosive global catastrophe of famine, hunger and malnutritior~; which continues to claim millions of lives every year in various parts of the world. Things are not getting better. The rich are getting richer, the poor poorer. Many millions will die this year from starvation. Hundreds of millions of children will be so undernourished that, if they survive at all, their physical and mental development will be seriously retarded. This is our world. The conference was able to say those things because it had put before it a description of a world marked by the twin horrors of hunger and repression. With the price of grain tripled in the past few months and the present world food reserves down to 27 days, the lowest since World War Two, the spectre of famine is a daily reality to millions of people in Africa and the Indian sub-continent. World-wide inflation, heightened through the quadrupling of the price of oil in the past year, means that the increasingly scarce resources of our finite world are getting even scarcer. And the world's population, now approaching 4 billion, will double in the next 35 years--except for the intervention of war and/or famine. Such deadly intervention is, of course, a real possibility. In a globe increasingly small, increasingly finite, and increasingly in-terdependent, two-thirds of the people of the world live in conditions of des-titution and degradation, while one-third enjoy the rich blessings created for all humankind. It is a literal re-enactment of the Dives and Lazarus story. Justice Needs at Home But in setting the context here, even so cursory a reference to the global scene should not distract us from the problems of social justice here at home. Those of you who live and work in major urban areas know that our cities, though outwardly quiet in the past few years, continue to see unrest, amidst conditions of unemployment, poor housing, and poor educa-tional systems. Our political system--as we approach the celebration in song and dance of our Bicentennial--seems paralyzed, locally as well as The American Religious, Evangelizer at Home / 1009 nationally, to deal with issues such as prison reform, tax reform, medical care, and so forth. One out of six Americans lives below a poverty line of what is required for basic health and well-being; the unemployment rate rose again last month to around 51/2%, with the rate of non-whites twice as high; inflation con-tinues to eat away the savings of the elderly and those on fixed incomes; while' life expectancy for the'average American is now around 71 years, for the non-white it is ten years less; and the U.S. infant mortality rate is one of the highest of any major industrialized nation in the world. Ten million Americans go to bed hungry every night in our land of diet cola and weight-reducing programs. Structural and Systemic Approaches This picture of social injustice--globally and nationally--is nothing new to you, I am sure. What might be new to you is the emphasis I want to give to the structural, systemic nature of the problems. We are not talking about isolated instances of poverty and injustice, but of the socio-economic-polit-ical structures, institutions~ and processes which create and perpetuate these problems. We need to move, as Gustavo Gutierrez suggests, from an "anec-doctal" approach to social problems to an "analytical" approach. Not stories about cases of injustice, but systemic analysis of why the injustices exist: only this will help us to experien~:e that call to profound conversion I spoke of earlier. This structural approach to injustice is central to the understanding of evangelization we are addressing here. It is central to the q971 Synod's discussion of "the systematic barriers and vicious circles" which hinder true justice. It is central to an appreciation of the strongest statement made by the Synod, when the Bishops described the present-day situation of the world as "marked by the grave sin of injustice." For the structural social injustice in our world and our nation is nothing less than sin, social sin. Social Sin and Evangelization Herein 'lies the reason why "action for justice" and transformation of the structures of injustice is constitutive to the preaching of the Gospel, to the task of evangelization. It is a continuation of the saving work of Jesus, who frees us from the bondage of sin: "For Gods~ loved the world that he gave his only son, so that everyone who believes in him may not be lost, but may have eternal life. For God sent his son into the world not to condemn the world but so that through him the world might be saved" (Jn 3:16-8). We Christians talk about sin only because we can talk of redemption, of grace. St. Paul tells us: "Where sin abounded, grace has abounded all the more" (Rm 5:20). And so as we speak of social sin, we also speak of social grace, God's revealing goodness and love in the social structures, institutions, and processes which we have created down through history. 1010 / Review /or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/5 It is precisely to fight against social sin, and to cooperate with social grace, that we Christians engage in "action for justice," that is, commit our-seives to the cause of social justice. Such action is not peripheral to the task of evangelization but is integral, constitutive. The 1971 Synod summarized this by saying: The mission of the preaching of the Gospel dictates at the present time that we should dedicate ourselves to the liberation of man even in his present ex-istence in ~this world. For unless the Christian message of love and justice shows its effectiveness through action in the cause of justice in the world, it will only with difficulty gain credibility with the men of our times. Thus the American religious evangelizer is, in a very true and genuine sense, the socially just religious, the socially just community. Note again that I am not speaking of social justice as an "apostolate" or as "work" or "projects." Social justice is a way o[ li[e which is integral to the.religious re-sponse to the call of the gospel. As integral to the gospel, it is something which cuts across all aspects of the evangelical life which we profess. It is living out of values which are counter to the values embodied in oppressive structures; it is a simplicity which says no to the conspicuous consumption which wastes the world's finite resources; it is a sharing which says no to the hoarding of the affluent in a world of so much poverty; it is a reaching out which says no to the dominance of entrenched power over the weak; it is a hope which says yes, there is a possibility of social change for a more just world. Action for social justice, then, is evangelization, a preaching of the good news to the poor, because our fundamental religious option is on the side of the poor, the powerless, the oppressed. We can do no less, reminded as we are by Mary's Magnificat of the fundamental option of God who has "pulled down princes from their thrones and exalted th.e lowly; the hungry he has filled with good things, and the rich sent away empty" (Lk 1:53-4). Concrete Implications Against this background of an understanding of the American religious evangelizer as the just religious, the just community, I would like to discuss some concrete implications which I see coming from this structural approach. I believe that they are only further extensions of what Father Paul Boyle wrote in his letter in the spring of 1972, urging CMSM members to be "witnessing and educating to social justice," and of what your own 1972 CMSM Assembly affirmed in the several resolutions you passed on the topic of social justice. For the sake of our exploration here this morning, I will speak in terms of the traditional aspects of evangelization, word, witness, and work. The word refers to the vision we religious have and relates particularly to the topic of formation; witness refers to our credibility, and relates to our life The American Religious, Evangelizer at Home / 1011 style; and work refers to the corporate thrust of the 9ommunity, and relates here specifically to the question of leadership. 1. Formation It has become increasingly accepted--theologically, philosophically, sociologically--that it is only possible to speak of the reality of a human person today by taking into full account the three dimensions of human existence: the individual, the interpersonal, and the public. These are not three separate and distinct dimensions so much as three moments in our perception of a single reality. The individual dimension is the realm of the private, the intimate. The person is an individual in as much as he/she is unique. The interpersonal dimension, on the other hand, is constituted in those relationships by which one individual deals with another in either, the limited sense of an 1-Thou encounter or in an extended sense of ordinary" societal dealings, The public dimension, however, includes the projections of individual and interpersonal existence into the institutions, structures, and processes of society. The person is organically one with these projec-tions. The identity of a human person is inadequately situated outside this triadic framework, this consideration of all three dimensions simultaneously. For this reason, the formation process of the American religious evangelizer must take account of the public dimension, the area of a person's involve-ment in and interaction with social structures, processes, and institutions. This formation--and I include the preparation of the novice, the training appropriate to brothers or. priests, the on-going "continuing education" programs for everyone in the community--should take account of the peculiar situation of the religious in the United States and the Roman Catholic Church of this last quarter of the twentieth century. Let me briefly suggest three points to be taken note of in this formation. "Spiritual Renewal and Social Justice Action First, there is great need today for an integration ,of the so-called "spiri-tual renewal" movement with the movement for greater social justice. We are experiencing in the Church today th6 movement of the Holy Spirit, renewing us through a heightened attention to prayer and faith, a growing acceptance of shared prayer, directed 'retreats, discernment workshops, spiritual direction, and the increasing activity, of charismatic, Pentecostal groups. Last year's annual CMSM Assembly was especially devoted to "building the faith community?' But I think that we are all aware that a danger lies in the possibility of a "turning inward," a false "spiritualism." Thus there is the potential case of someone becoming involved in these spiritual activities, spi,ritual ministries, as an escape from involvement with the evangelical task of changing unjust social structures. This might be understandabl~, given some of the flurry of "social action" during the 1960's, 1012 / Review [or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/5 and also the intensity of challenge in the authentic struggle for social reform. But we religious would surely fail in our responsibility to our Church and our world if we did not make every effort to integrate the two great dy-namisms moving around us today, the call for more active°social justice and the drive for more deeply renewed interiority. Social Determinisms Second, we have to attend in formation to the power of the "social determinisms" which affect all of us American religious. These determinisms are part of our culture and infringe upon the full exercise of our freedom. They provide the context, the milieu, within which choices are made. I will mention three of them which my colleagues at the Center of Concern have in recent months been analyzing--the implications of which I believe you ¯ °will all realize. (a) "Cultural addictions"--those patterns, habits, styles of life which we become acculturated, socialized, to from birth. Though frequently lived out inadvertently, these cultural addictions have a powerful influence over our choices, for example, in the matter of life style in this affluent, consumption-oriented nation. (b) "'Mindsets"--those perceptual frameworks, paradigms, which guide our thinking, our viewing of reality. For example, we Americans tend to be highly mechanical, pragmatic, problem-solving, "can-do,'" in perception. (c) "Class bias"--those socio-economic-political expectations and ideologies which influence our patterns of speech, behavior, judgment. Since the majority of religious come from the middle-class and few, I suspect (though I am open to correction on this), from the working class, we have a class orientation which provides us with specific sets of norms, values, and attitudes. These social determinisms operate in us all. Think for a moment of examples in different members of your community, and in yourself. They must be recognized and critically examined if we American religious are. ever to raise questions, for instance, about the global social justice implica-tions of the American way of life, of being Number One, of the spirit of competition, and so forth. Need for Sociological and Theological Analysis Finally, we need to foster in all stages of formation, for young and old alike, a deepening insight into both the sociological analysis of the struc-tures of injustice and the theological analysis of the imperatives of justice. How knowledgeable are the members of our community, for example, about the facts of world population; about the institutions of global trade such as tariffs, multi-national corporations, and monetary arrangements; about the relationship of the current food crisis to the energy crisis through the link of the fertilizer shortage? How aware are we religious about the structures of injustice in our own country--inequitable tax systems, the policy of "red- The American Religious, Evangelizer at Home / 1013 lining" on housing mortgages, zoning policies, cost of medical care for the elderly, the farm worker problem? And how conversant are we about the Church's social consciousness as articulated through the great documents of "~Rerum novarum, Quadragesimo anno, the Christmas messages of Pius XI1, Mater et Magistra, Pacem in terris, Gaudium et spes, Octagesima adveniens, Justice in the World? What do we know of the theology of liberation, and other expressions of social theology? My several questions, of course, may simply be unfair. I am not saying that all religious need to be social scientists or social theologians. But the questions do point to the continual need to update ourselves in the reality of the world we live in--a need which can be met only through organized efforts in formation. And our updating must include not only study but also experience, the real praxis of which Paulo Freire speaks. Only then can we religious hope to be about the task of evangelization. 2. Life Style In one of several disturbing passages in the 1971 Synod's statement Justice in the World, the bishops addressed the issue of the credibility of the Church regarding its message of social justice. Its credibility, the document said, was affected by its own mode of acting, and in the possessions and life style found in the church. Two passages are particularly relevant. In speak-ing of temporal possessions, the Synod argued that the evangelical witness the Church is obliged to give should never become ambiguous because of privilege, power, and wealth--the gospel must be proclaimed to the poor. "If instead the Church appears to be among the rich and the powerful of this world, its credibility is diminished." Again, the Synod suggests an examina-tion of conscience regarding life style, wherein we ask ourselves "whether our life style exemplifies that sparingness in regard to consumption which we preach to others as necessary in order that so many millions of hungry people throughout the world may be fed." Now I know that we religious have all been engaged at great length in discussions about the meaning of our vow of poverty today. I.know that we all cringe when we hear remarks like that of Bishop Sheen--and I usually don't quote Bishop Sheen in my talks--to the effect that "There are millions of people who would be only tOO glad to take a vow of poverty." Yes, would that the poor of the world had such a luxury to embrace religious poverty! Changes in Religious Poverty But I really think that the terms of the discussion and debate over religious poverty have changed in recent years. While still recognizing the ascetical and spiritual value of the vow of poverty--linking it to the kenosis of the Lord Jesus--we are beginning to appreciate its social value, I might 1014 / Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/5 even says its political value. This appreciation is contained in the 1971 Synod's on "sparing and sharing" as a way to meet the challenge of global justice. It is found in the 1972 resolutions adopted by the annual CMSM Assembly, in which you yourselves pledged a program of action to promote within your communities greater simplicity of life style "to express our solidarity with the poor of the world and our respect for the needs of future generations." It is found in the 1973 Lenten pastoral letter of the Dutch Bishops, who discussed "Prosperity, Responsibility, Frugality," and spoke of the obligation of all Christians who live in an affluent nation to practice a socially-oriented sparingness as a no to even greater and greater con-su~ ption. And it is found recently, to speak of somethi~ng I know personally, in a communication of Father Pedro Arrupe, Superior General of the Society of Jesus, on "Simplicity of Life," in which he urges Jesuits to experi-ence an inner conversion to the poverty of Christ so that we can regain true apostolic credibility--especially with the poor. This would be shown in a simpler and hence freer life style. This communication is part of a con-tinual insistence on the part of Father Arrupe that unless Jesuits come to grips with the problem of their poverty, they have no future. In the socially unjust contemporary world, they deserve no future. This new dimension to an understanding and practice of religious poverty is linked to the realization that poverty and affluence, underdevelopment and oTerdevelopment, are correlatives. In a small, finite, and interdepen-d~ int globe, the extra serving of grain-fed beef on Dives' table means a smaller crumb of bread for Lazarus; the eight-cylinder automobile which guzzles petroleum products in the United States means a higher price for gasoline used to run the little irrigation pump on a small farmer's plot in India. The course of the Green Revolution--production of miracle grains to stave off famine in the developing countries--has in recent months come to a shattering halt because of the global shortage of fertilizer. But heavily-fertilized private lawns, golf courses, and cemeteries in the United States will not turn brown this summer. Freeing Ourselves [rom Affluence How can we American religious witness to an evangelization which really is a preaching of the Good News to the poor? We need to free our-selves from the subtle--and not so subtle--attachments to the affluent ways of our American life style. Today our simplicity of life is menaced, as Father Arrupe says, "not by a single but by a double danger. It is menaced not only by our built-in egoism, but by the consumer society in which we are plunged: a society that provides with such facility almost everything our egoism craves." We really do need freedom. But how free are we? (And I ask myself this question just as hard as I ask you.) Without making an effort to reduce our corporate resources and simplify our life styles, we American religious The American Religious, Evangelizer at Home / 1015 will continue to experience great unfreedom and our ability to be evan-gelizers will be hindered. Again I quote Father Arrupe: If, in a society of economic progress, abundance, and consumerism, we lack the spirit of poverty and the detachment derived from it, we run the risk, more than at any other time in the past, of becoming slaves. Slaves in many different ways: slaves of propaganda, of that high-pressure salesmanship which is the distinguishing mark of a consumer society; slaves of acquisiliveness, the drive to accumulate possessions which begin as luxuries and end up as neces-sities; slaves of snobbery, which limits our apostolic 9.ctivity, whether openly or tacitly, to a privileged social class. Poverty and simplicity of life, on the other hand, by reducing our needs to a minimum, sets us free--free to respond to any and every challenge of the apostolate. Three Points for Consideration Much could be said about promoting a response to that challenge of the apostolate, about promoting a life style which witnesses to the social dimension of evangelization I have been speaking of here. I mention only three brief points. First, because changes toward a simple life style run so counter to prevailing American values of consumption and affluence, there is need for religious communities to institute a positive, community-based and community-supported plan to reduce corporate resources and simplify individual and community life styles. The process does not come through pious wishes but through pragmatic plans. Second, continual community reinforcement and critique is required, to assure that efforts at simpler life styles are undertaken with a maximum of common sense, a minimum of self-righteousness, and a modiciam of good humor. Thirdly, we need a spirit of experiment, of risk, of adventure, in this task. A new citizen's lobby for affecting policy to meet the world hunger crisis, Bread for the World, has recently encouraged Americans to experi-ment with three meatless days a week, in order to curtail our dispropor-tionate consumption of~ meat--the most inefficient source of protein in a protein-short world. If religious communities in the United States were not risky enough to have offered this suggestion earlier, surely we could hope to be risky enough to try out the suggestion now that everyone is talking about it. 3. Leadership In developing the social dimension of the task of evangelization, I have spoken at considerable length of the word aspect of formation, and the witness aspect of life style. I will speak only briefly of the third and last aspect, the work aspect of leadership. Whereas I have had experience with formation programs (my own and others') and have analyzed and experi-mented with simpler life styles, I stand this morning before this august body of religious leaders with considerable hesitancy to speak about leadership. You have the experience--for better or worse!--which I lack. 1016 / Review [or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/5 But voices from below have never been lacking, so I would like to share with you at least two points. These relate to the promotion of the just community which I have called here the American religious evangelizer at home. The first point deals with models of support given by religious superiors for social change for justice, and the second deals with the issues of polarization and reconciliation. Superiors as Models of Support First, in relating to your communities in matters of social justice--in life style, education, spirituality, apostolate, corporate practices, and so forth--you obviously have several avenues of approach open to you. And here I am simply articulating out loud your own experience. You can exhort the group as a whole, calling them to a closer attention to the oppor-tunities and demands of "action for justice." This can be done by letter or conference or personal address to select groups. Or you can single out par-ticular persons and/or communities for a strong world of affirmation and encouragement. These persons or communities may be the "Abrahamic minorities" in your midst (to use the phrase Dom Helder Camara used last year in speaking to the LCWR) who struggle for justice in a tentative, prob-ing way on the fringes of community; or they may simply be those quiet, long-suffering members who hunger and thirst after justice in less noticeable ways. The approach of affirming these religious not only strengthens them in their work but also educates others in your community. Or again, decisions you take which have social justice impact, and ex-planations for these decisions which you share with your community and with the wider public, can be effective works of evangelization. I think of several instances in recent years where superiors have announced the opening of some new apostolate or the closing of some traditional apostolate, and explained their reasons in ways which significantly advanced the cause of social justice. Finally, there is the symbolic action of the superior who publicly speaks out on an issue of social justice, or personally involves him-self in some particular justice struggle. Last year's statement on universal and unconditional amnesty endorsed by many CMSM members, and the pa,rticipation of CMSM members on the picket lines of the Coachella Valley in support of the farmworkers, are two instances which come to mind. A statement this year by the CMSM in support of the Equal Rights Amend-ment would be a powerful contribution to the social justice issue of women's rights in our society. The point I wish to make in citing these various models of leadership action by religious superiors is simply to indicate explicitly the many ways which are open to you. Superiors, Polarization, and Reconciliation My second point touches on something which sometimes follows when The American Religious, Evangelizer at Home / 1017 this leadership in social justice has been exercised, or when the community really does get involved in "action for justice." This is the issue of polariza-tion in religious communities and the task of the religious superior to be a reconciler. The coming celebration of the Holy Year will emphasize the theme of reconciliation; several months ago, Father Paul Boyle wrote to the CMSM membership a letter discussing this topic. In the context of our focus here on the social dimension of evangelization, I have frequently heard it said that issues ofsocial justice sometimes divide religious communities. We American religious are clearly not all Democrats or,Republicans, con-servatives or liberals, capitalists or socialists. While we may agree in the abstract on many social pr.inciples (but then sometimes we do not even do that!), we usually do not find general agreement or consensus on specific, concrete problems and/or their proposed solutions. What is the religious superior to do when faced with division or po-tentially serious polarization. Let me caution against reconciliation. I say that because I am wary of an,effort to reconcile, smooth over, create consen-sus, where serious issues of social justice are at stake. Usually such recon-ciliation results in the more progressive point--which is frequently, but not always, the point of social justice--being 10st in compromise. At least let me suggest that sometimes reconciliation does not mean that two points of view are reconciled to each other, but that one point of view is reconciled to the point of view of the gospel. The superior who "reconciles" members ° of his community to social justice is truly about the work of evangelization. By Way of Conclusion Let me conclude these reflections of the word, witness, and work aspects of the task of evangelization by referring back to a point which Father Walter Farrell made last year in his summary remarks on the closing day of your CMSM Assembly, which had as its theme "The Role of the Major Superior in Fostering the Faith Community." Some of you may recall that Father Farrell commented that when you asa group talked about prayer, even about God's direct action in prayer, you were quite at ease. But the moment that social issues and the social dimensions of Christianity were raised, you became nervous. Now I was not there to notice your nervous-ness, so I will leave the point to your own memory and reflection. What I do hope and pray for this year is that any nervousness we feel will npt keep us from exploring openly and with feeling the topics I have sketched here this morning, the social structural dimension of evangelization, and its impli-cations for formation, life style, and leadership. Rather I would hope our nervousness would only be that of the Apostle Paul, who on one occasion was led to say: "Woe is me if I do not preach the Gospel!" Just as I began my presentation this morning with that Synod statement which I have overused by quoting again and again, I would like to end by quoting a Scripture passage which I have also much overused. But it is a 1011~ / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/5 passage which is worth using again and again, especially in the context of the social task of evangelization we are discerning about today. It is from the fourth chapter of Luke: He came to Nazareth, where he had been brought up, and went into the synagogue on the sabbath day as he usually did. He stood up to read, and they handed him the scroll of the prophet Isaiah. Unrolling the scroll he found the place where it is written: The spirit of the Lord has been given to me, for he h~s annointed me. He has sent me to bring the good news to the poor, to proclaim liberty to captives and to the blind new sight, to set the downtrodden free, to proclaim the Lord's year of favor. He then rolled up the scroll, gave it back to the assistant and sat down. And all eyes in the synagogue were fixed on him. Then he began to speak to them, This text is being fulfilled today even as you listen. "This text is being fulfilled today even.as you listen." Really, that is the challenge of the "American Religious, Evangelizer at Home"--to strive mightly to assure that this text of good news for the poor, liberty for the captives, new sight for the blind, freedom for the oppressed, this text is indeed being fulfilled, yes, even today as we listen. A Christian Is a Poor Man Kevin O'Shea, C.Ss.R. Father Kevin O'Shea teaches theology at the Redemptorist College; Pennant Hills; Sydney, Australia. Poverty is the most difficult dimension of religious life at present. It is the point at which the tension is greatest between spirit and institution. Institu-tional poverty is reasonable, moderate, and tolerable; in fact, it is argued if it should rightly be called poverty. Charismatic poverty is anything but reasonable, is beyond moderation, and is nearly intolerable; it takes its spirit from a new reading of the Scriptures and calls poverty by its real name. In this sense, poverty is in all likelihood the greatest ferment in religious life at present. What a renewal of chastity and of obedience have not achieved, may well be done, in alarming proportion, by this renewal of poverty. Para-doxically, it is not among religious alone that the renewal is coming. It is coming from men of the Spirit who are taking the gospel to mean what it says. The position of the Gospels on poverty is strikingly clear. Christ's fol-lowers must leave all, and give it to the poor; they must leave the worl~l, and become poor. It is all or nothing. It is not measured and calculated action. It is a form of divine madness. It is the foolishness Of love. The New Testament suggests three main motivations for such poverty. Povert-y is a Messianic mystery; it is a kenotic reality; and it is an ecclesial communion. Poverty a Messianic Mystery A long Hebrew tradition pictured the Messiah (the Christ) as anointed by God to go among the poor, to be a man of the poor, to join the ranks of the poor, and to bring help and life to the poor. Jesus lived in the strength of this image; He shared the misery of the poor and did all He could to 1019 1020 / Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/5 lessen it, and He waited there in it with the poor for God to come, in His own day, and remove it. The poor were the people who had no resources of their own to assure them of a future and a hope. They were the dispossessed, the disappropriated, the displaced people of this world. They were literally the no-hopers, the have-nots, the forgotten people, the little people without a land. And it was to them that the Messiah came, and it was among them that he became one of them. Not because their misery was a good thing, but be-cause it was a good thing to be among them and to share it, remove it, wait in it patiently till God would take away all tears from their eyes. To His disciples who followed Him, the Messiah asked a Messianic life style: the mystery of their incorporation in the ranks of the poor. A Christian, like the Christ, is a poor man. Poverty a Kenotic Reality The New Testament speaks of a disease of the Christian heart called dipsychia. It is a split psychology, a sort of spiritual schizophrenia. The Christian wants to give himself totally to God, yet he feels an attraction to the things that are easy and immediately in front of him. He is torn two ways. He lacks unity and integration as a single person. There is only one cure for this trouble in the New Testament: it is kenosis, the self-emptying of the person to the very roots of his human existence of which Christ gave him the supreme example of His life and death on the cross. It is only in that utter nothingness of kenosis that integrity is possible. There is no other "fulfillment." But this kenosis is not an attitude, a spirit, and a mentality of mortification, as the Greeks might have thought. It is tangible and real: a man leaves all he has, and becomes poor, nothing, empty, dead in the things he has prized. He knows the nakedness of the poor man. It is not poverty of spirit. It is poverty. Poverty and Ecclesial Communion There is a principle in the New Testament that what one gives up to become poor is given over to the poor, so that they are enriched by it. Christ was rich in laying a rightful claim to Sonship of God. Rich though He was in this respect., He became poor for us and did not cling tenaciously to this right for Himself. Thus, through His poverty, we became rich in His very Sonship. In the Jerusalem community, the model and norm of radical following of Christ in the Church, no one kept his own things (ta idia)-- shall we say that no one "did his own thing"---but each one's own things became thereby the things of all (ta koinonia). It is poverty, then, in its genuine realism and in the self-emptying it implies, that constitutes com-munion and community. The Church is a community because it is a Church. of the poor. Its common life is not a sharing of advantages each retains so that one complements the other; it is a giving of one's all to all and for all, so that in the emptiness of all there can be a truly communed life. Christian Is a Poor Man / 1021 Emphases in New Testament Poverty In these three New Testament motiv.es of pove.rty, there is a strong emphasis on a// --- all is given, so that a poor man can be nothing and have nothing. There is no limit to the poverty that. might be embraced. There is no poor man excluded from the reach of the gospel. There is no poor man that the Christian will not help, no poor man that he will not join. Anawim (the poor) is a plural word; and it has no limits of poverty. There is an instinct for the most needy, the most abandoned, the poorest of all. In these motives, too, there is a new kind of consciousness inculcated in the Christian disciple. What he does, effectively, by external action, for the poor, is limited and, in the last count, not very effective; that does not matter: What matters is what happens to him, and to the poor, when he gets among them and joins them. It gives him a compassion, a self-forget-fulness, a tenderness, an ability to care that transfo~:ms him and communi-cates itself to the poor to whom he now belongs. In poverty, he has become an embodiment of love. He has begun to sense the reality of an incarnation. He has begun to learn to live as a "dropout" from the existence he might have clung to. He has gone to the castoffs from society, who will love him even if they know that he was not always one of them and is not so deeply rooted in misery as they ai-e. He has gone away from the comfortable and complacent, who have struck him of[ from their lists. He knows the lone-liness of the missionary among the anawim. In these motives, again, there is an undreamt of realism and a stark simplicity. This poverty is not a philosophical theory; one does not muse that every creature is poor, or that man is a conscious beggar for his given existence from God. Nor is this poverty simply the acceptance of whatever limitations (or "poverty") are in fact in one's life, which for the moment cannot be removed. Nor is it the poverty of someone who equips himself to help others, and then looks around for needy people to help, and has to be content with less than ideal types to begin. In this poverty, one does not work out first the a priori conditions of poverty and then see how to imple-' ment them. There are really poor people before our eyes, and it is their poverty we must share, with them that we must become one in a self-for-getting and serving compassion. The poor are always with us. They are there, and we respond to them in an instinct of love, not in a calculation of reason. The Gospel Poor Man The life style of the gospel poor man is then that of a worker among the battlers for existence, a struggler among the not-yet-assured, a sharer among the insufficiently endowed, humanly as well as spiritually. It is a simple life, frugal, hard-earned, frustrating, substandard, where one is not sure how one is to survive, where one lives with the poor on their terms, and on his own, where one lives well below the ordinary normal comfort one might have as the result of one's talents and energy. The gospel poor man 1022 / Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/5 gives his time and his self to the poor, and finds 'his place among them. He can say, "We poor." The inspiration for this way of life is Biblical. We could sum it up in slogan words that resonate anew today in the heart of the Church: words like Messiah, anawim, shalom, shaliah, diakonia, evangelion, eucharistia, the mercy of God. Messianism, Anawim, .Covenant, and Peace There is a real resurgence of Messianism in the Church today, Christians are realizing that they are not Christians unless they fall in love with Jesus as Messiah and adopt his Messianic life style. This means that they must fall in love with the poor of their own time, and adopt their life style, for love of Jesus and the gospel of.the poor. A resurrection theology, over two decades, has divested us of an exaggerated spiritualism' in.our spirituality. A poverty theology, stemming from a new Messiah theology, will divest us of a remain-ing complacency in which we would persuade ourselves, if not others, that we share in the sufferings of the Lord without sharing the lot of His little ones. The anawim are His little ones. Because they are the poor, they are the poor of God. God cannot help it--He must fill emptiness with Himself. He cannot make a covenant except with the poor. It is to those who have neither a future nor a hope that He comes to make flow upon them a river of peace, and to bind Himself to be in person their future and their hope. God laughs at those who would offer Him their goods and their love~ and, as it were, enter a two-way relationship with Him: He loves one way, giving His all to those who have nothing and are nothing. After all, He must have His own way of, as it were, joining the poor, too, musn't He? For, to them, He gives His all. This is wh~t the covenant means, and this is the shalom it brings. Shalom does not mean peace, at least, if peace means a comfortable inner feelin.g of security, and no hostilities without. When God loves the anawim, and sends His Christ to them, He does not--immediately, at least--take away their poverty. They are still the poor, these poor of God. His shalom is not an anaesthetic so that they do not feel it. But it is shalom, and it is a trust and a faith and a certainty that He has not chosen the thi.ngs that are, but the things that are not. It is a willingness to smile, even at death. For resurrec-tion is assured, since the eschaton belongs to the anawim. The simplicity of washing the feet of the poor and of serving them in their deepest human needs is itself a total life style, and those who have heard the Messianic call have no option but to live it. It is not easy to wash a poor man's feet. They are dirty, they smell, and he will probably not thank you, but kick you in the face.You probably won't succeed, but you will know that there is a kind of happiness words can never explain in keeping on .doing it. This is the diakonia of the gospel. A Chr~t~n Is a Poor Man / 1023 o Gospel means good news. To proclaim the gospel means to speak, but much more to be good news to men. Some of my American friends have an unkind expression about a difficult and unattractive, character: They say, "He's bad news." They also say of a genuine and real person, "He's good news." Jesus Himself was this kind of good news to the little ones, to the poor. When He began.His Galilean ministry, he read from the ,scroll of Deutero-Isaiah: "He has, sent me to be good news tothe anawim." When we work in his name, in our apostolate, are we, ourselves, good news to men, to poor men? And do we realize that there is no such thing as a direct apostolate to the rich and the well-established, there is only a mission of Jesus and His disciples to the poor? The others get in to the extent that they, too, leave all and become members of the anawim! , Eucharistia and Mercy Eucharistia--the giving of thanks, the celebrating of life, and saying now in Christ, for the past thanks, for the future yes~ Shall we ever know, the truth of that thanks for the past until we can bless the Providence that has made-us poor men? Shall we ever say a total yes to the future until we can face it without any resources as the pure gift of our Covenanted Resource, the God of the poor? It is only then that we shall know Him in the breaking of the bread of pilgrims, at the table of the poor, and discover in surprise that the Eueharist is the liturgy of the little ones. It is true. God has no love that is not mercy. Mercy is His response, in His heart, to misery. To be among the first clients of His mercy, we must be his anawim. A vocation" to His love is a vocation to our brother, the poor man. Recently, a student of mine at Fordham wrote these words as the conclusion of an assignment on the meaning of the apostolate: Are the people of the Word something sp~'cial, or is it only their words? Will their lives speak to us? The eye and ear ~vorld is all sewn up by the talented admen of Madison Avenue. What is left to us? The heart world. The world where flesh,, speaks to flesh, heart to heart. Do not speak religious themes to me. Speak the Word that is in your heart, your experience of life, enriched, made more than human, by the saving power in it that is believable because you believe it. I do want to be told, not by hearing you but by knowing you. Or is that an issue? I ask you if you understand, and your answer is your life. The Recovery of Messianic Man This poverty of Messianic man we are beginning to see again in our time. It is the challenge of our conscience, this cry of the poor. We can no longer vaguely know that half the world is starving for food, and more than half of it for love, and write off .the situation as bad luck, or permitted by providence, and promise to pray for it and count our own blessings. That is not the Christian life; indeed, it is not human life. The new global village is one parish. Every man is my neighbor, and it is a sin to regard a man as a 1024 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/5 stranger. The Church is beginning to challenge the reasonable moderation and balanced calculation of its stance, before the secular reality of poverty in the world. Some would even speak of the end of a "Constantinian era" and the beginning of a new Mcssianic epoch where the Spirit shall anoint us and send us to the poor. If this is true, it is but a beginning. We have yet a long way to go. When we try to relatc this thinking with the established or recently adopted norms of institutional poverty among religious, the lines do not even meet. Juridic poverty had a place in the history of religious life," but it is not the same as evangelical poverty. Many, of course, in the name of realism, will remind us 'that just as we once spoke of "tending to perfection," an ideal we never reached, so here we must feel obliged only to tend to this perfection of poverty and Messianic life, not to reach it immediately. Yes, but the acid test of the new Christian conscience is that it cannot use this theological formula as an excuse from real and significantly new action. Formulated obligation cannot measure up to a charismatic spirit. Our conscience is telling us that we are suffering from compassion fatigue, that we have enjoyed the protection of our callousness, that we must now .make a new option to be compassionate rather than honorable. Our skin must stretch around the globe, so that if any man hurts, we hurt with him, and do some-thing about it. The Cry of the Poor Pope Paul has taken up this point in his apostolic exhortation to religious (ll tempio massimo, July 2, 1971). "Our contemporaries," he says, "question you with particular insistence about poverty." "You hear rising up, more pressing than ever, the cry of the poor." "Was .it not to respond to their appeal as God's privileged ones that Christ came, even going as far as to identify Himself with them?" It is a "pressing call for a conver-sion of minds and attitudes, especially for you who follow Christ more closely in this earthly condition of self-emptying." It calls for "a conversion of hearts, it is a call to love." What, in practice, will the cry of the poor demand of religious? First, "It must bar you from any compromise with any form of social injustice." Secondly, "It obliges you to awaken consciences to the drama of human misery." Thirdly, "It leads some of you to join the poor in their situation." Fourthly, "It calls many institutes to rededicate some of their works to the poor." Fifthly, "It enjoins on you a use of goods limited to the requirements of your work." Sixthly, "It is necessary that in your daily lives you give external proof of poverty." A Christian is a Poor Man / 1025 Seventhly, "It is not normal to allow yourself everything offered to you." Eighthly, "Earn your own living and help the poor by your work." Ninthly, "You cannot purely and simply conform to your surroundings." Tenthly, "Do not be excessively preoccupied with appearing to be poor." All this is said in conformity with the patterns of obedience and specific apostolate in a given institute. It is a call from the needs of the times and the demands of the gospel. It is a vocation to discover Christ as a poor man. Renewal and Poverly Much energy has gone into the renewal of religious community. Some-times one gets the impression that they are trying to be beautiful resident communities of loving relationships which might then, as an overflow, have something to contribute to the poor. This is heresy. The Church has no mandate to be a resident, domesticated Church. It is essentially missionary, a pilgrim, servant Church of the poor. It is only by living its vocation to poverty among the poor that it can discover the kind of community life Christ intended for it. Likewise, much work has gone into the renewal of authority and obedience in religious life. It will not fully succeed until authority becomes an initiation of new life among the poor, and obedience is a heeding of the cry of the poor. Again, much has been done to make religious life more human, more relational, more interpersonal, more affec-tive. But the tenderness and the gentleness and the caring concern that we so desire, we must learn from our involvement with the poor. It is but an-other work for the meekness of the anawim. Of the poor, it has been said, "Only he who sees the invisible accom-plishes the impossible."~Of the gospel poor man who goes to the poor, we might likewise say, "Only he who loves the unlovable is good news to the little ones." A Penance Service Bonaventure Hinwood, O.F.M. Father Bonaventure Hinwood is a faculty member of The Seminary; 191 Main Street; Waterkloof; Pretoria, South Africa. His penance service given below was originally composed for teaching sisters to be used during Lent 1974. mo 4. 5. B. 6. 7. 1026 Introduction HYMN OPENING PRAYER P(riest): Heavenly Father, who does not wish the death of a sinner but rather that he should turn from his wickedness and live, we beg You to turn the light of Your truth upon our lives and bring us to true repentance in this time of mercy. Make your Holy Spirit active within us this evening to lead us to see our lives as they are in Your sight, and to sensitize our hearts so that we may give a true response of love and sorrow to Your call. This we ask through Jesus Christ, our Mediator with You and the cause of our joy. C(ongregation): Amen. SCRIPTURE READING: John 3:16-21. SERMON HYMN First Sel]-con]rontation SCRIPTURE READING: Matthew 16:24-7. P. My sisters, the most precious thing in the whole world for most of us is ourselves. This is demonstrated by the fact that we will frequently use or abandon almost every other person or thing in order to realiz,e our own image of our self-fulfillment, to achieve our own plans and A Penance Service / 1027 projects, to satisfy our needs and desires. Jesus, however, has come to free us from our self-centeredness. He has come to give us a share in His own capacity to devote and to give oneself wholeheartedly to bringing about God's kingdom, and to love Him and those for whom He died. This can only be done by an unstinting gift of ourselves to Him. Do we really desire to make this gift, and are we really intent upon trying to make this self-offering more complete? A(ssistan0 1: Jesus' great commandment tells us that we should love the Lord our God with our whole heart, our whole soul, our whole mind, and our whole strength, and our fellow men as ourselves. This is a fulltime job. Yet a lot of our valuable time and energy gets wasted irt useless tension, frustration, and self-pity. Why is this? Am I really prepared to let go of my own will, or am I too attached to my own wants, my own plans, my own projects, my own way of doing things, my own rhythm of life? A. 2: Am I truly open to viewpoints other than my own, or is my own way of looking at things always my supreme criterion in life? Do I really try to understand the contrary opinions of others, or am I too busy thinking of ways to defend my own viewpoint even to listen to what others are saying? Am I too confident in my own judg-ment to consult with others or seek their advice? Have I failed to respect other people's greater learning or experience? How often have these attitudes of mine been the cause of misunderstanding with others or tensions in the community? A. 1: Do I try to lighten the burden of those charged with regulating the affairs of the Church, the community, and the school by ready cooperation and obedience, or am I destructively critical and stub-born? Do I accept that they are honestly trying to do theirbest for the common good and for me, or am I suspicious and negative in my attitude towards them? Do I seek first the kingdom of God and the common good, o.r is my own convenience primary? SILENCE FOR REFLECTION PI~AYER FOR FORGIVENESS P. Jesus who instructed us that "If anyone wants to be a follower of mine, let him renounce himself and take up his cross and follow me" (Mt 16:24): . Have mercy on me a sinner. P. Jesus who calls us to "Shoulder my yoke and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble of heart, and you will find rest for your souls (Mt 11:29-30): 12. Have mercy on me a sinner. 1028 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/5 11. 12. P. Jesus who warned that "Anyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and anyone who humbles himself will be exalted" (Mt 23: 12): 12. Have mercy on me a sinner. P. Jesus who said by the well of Jacob, "My food is to do the will of the one who sent Me and to complete his work" (Jn 4:34): C. Have mercy on me a sinner. P. Jesus who prayed in Gethsemani, "My Father, if this cup cannot pass by without my drinking it, your will be done" (Mt 26:42) : ¯ . Have mercy on me a sinner. P. Jesus who, although You were the Son of God, "learnt to obey through suffering" (Heb 5:8) : 12. Have mercy on me a sinner. P. Jesus who, having been made perfect, has become for all who obey You the source of eternal salvation (Heb 5:9): C. Have mercy on me a sinner. P. Jesus who has taught us that a man can have no greater love than to lay down his life for his friends (Jn 15:13): 12. Have mercy on me a sinner. Second Self-con]rontation SCRIPTURE READING: John 15:5, 8-12. P. My sisters, the tone of our own lives gives a tone to the environ-ment in which we live, the mental and emotional atmosphere which we create in our own personalities affects the social atmosphere in which those around us have to live. If we, therefore, are negative, cynical, disgruntled, and grumpy people we pollute the atmosphere of those around us with unpleasantness, tension, gloom, and sadness. If, however, we are positive, creative, contented, and cheerful, then we provide for others an atmosphere of brightness and warmth, of enthusiasm, lightness, harmony, and joy. Does our love for others extend as far as building up Christ's joy in ourselves for their sake? -A. 2: It is only in freedom that we can be truly joyful, and Christ has come to set us free from the inordinate and selfish attachment to people, places, activities, and things, which is the cause of much of our sadness. Do I cherish that freedom which a positive and profound living out of my religious vows brings, or are they for me merely nega-tive restraints which produce frustration and discontent? Am I a ful-filled and joyful person because I love in the freedom of my religious vocation, or have I become selfish and finicky? A. 1: In the theme song for the film Brother Son and Sister Moon, Francis complains that he seldom sees and hears the wonders of God's A Penance Service / 1029 13. creatures because he is too "preoccupied with selfish miseries." Am I so busy with my own emotions, particularly negative reactions of suspicion, wounded pride, self-defense, and criticalness that I am un-able to see the beauty, goodness, and virtue of the people and things around me? Am I so busy manipulating and condemning God's creatures, that I do not have time to thank Him and rejoice in them? A. 2: St. Francis said once to a mournful looking brother that the only reason for being sad was because one was in mortal sin, and the only cure for that was to go to confession. Do I really appreciate what an ecstatic thing it is to have been saved by Jesus Christ, to have been made in Him a child of the Father and an heir of God's Kingdom? Am I so busy rejoicing with Mary at the great things God has done for me, that I do not have time to get downhearted and miserable about the other things that may not go the way I want them to? SILENCE FOR REFLECTION PRAYER FOR FORGIVENESS P. Jesus Christ who has told us the good news we read in the passage from St. John so that You may share your joy with us to the full (Jn 17:13): 12. Forgive me my preoccupation with selfish miseries and my lack of joy. P. Jesus, when the wise men heard the prophecy of your birth in Bethlehem and saw the guiding star they rejoiced exceedingly with great joy (Mt 2:10): 12. Forgive me my preoccupation with selfish miseries and my lack of joy. P. Jesus, when You told Zacchaeus that You would stay in his house that day, Zacchaeus welcomed You with joy (Lk 19:6): 12. Forgive me my preoccupation with selfish miseries and my lack of joy. P. At the angel's message about your resurrection, Lord, the women with great joy ran to tell the disciples (Mt 28:8): 12. Forgive me my preoccupation with selfish miseries and my lack of joy. P. Lord who told us that the person who finds the treasure of the kingdom of heaven, in his joy goes and sells all he has to buy it (Mt 13:44): . Forgive me my preoccupation with selfish ~miseries and my lack of joy. Time for Personal Examination and Confession Conclusion 1030 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/5 15. 16. 17. PENANCES (one penance to be chosen by each penitent) a. Make the Stations of the Cross, meditating on the obedience, meek-ness, and humility of Jesus. b. Spend ten minutes thinking of the good points of a superior, fellow religious, or pupil of whom you are often negatively critical, and praying for her. c. Walk around or sit in the garden for ten minutes listening to the birds and insects, and looking at the trees and flowers, clouds or stars, and thank God for His goodness and rejoice in the wonder of His creation. OUR FATHER (recited by all together) P. May almighty God have mercy on you, forgive you your sins, and bring you to everlasting life. C. Amen: P. May the almighty and merciful Lord grant you pardon, absolution, and forgiveness of your sins. 12. Amen. DISMISSAL P. May the. Lord renew you with His energy and joy. May He ac-company you on your way with His presence and make all your works fruitful. May He strengthen you against all that is evil and give you the courage to serve those nearest to you and all men wherever they may be. And may the blessing of God almighty, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit be with you and remain with you always. 12. Amen. 18. HYMN The Formation of Contemplatives in Action Ladislas Orsy, S.J. Ladislas Orsy, S.J., who has written often on the theology of religious life, is a mem-ber of the Department of Canon Law; The Catholic University of America; Washing-ton, D. C. 20017. Contemplatives in action are the salt of the earth; as a gracious gift from God, they have a tang, and they are able to bring some goodness into every-thing they touch. Quite a good description of religious life! No wonder many communities intent on the ideal of being the salt of the earth raise the question: How do we form contemplatives in action? We take their query, but, to make it more manageable, we break it up into three questions. First, who is a contemplative in action? Second, how does one develop into such a person? Third, what structured program can help the development? That is, our reflections revolve around three topics: the person, the process, and the program. While the focus of our attention is on the person, the resulting description will exhibit a somewhat static picture. It cannot be in any other way. But the movement that gives us con-templatives in action must he somehow caught; therefore, the pilgrim's progress must be delineated, as it were,'in its natural state. Then comes the problem of the environment, how external structures contribute to a process that is so deeply internal and personal. Since everybody knows how far-reaching these three questions are and how difficult it is to find any final answer, we are in the happy position of having to respond to only limited expectations. The reflections of a man may be no more than a drop into the ocean, but, for that man, it is certainly pleasant to contemplate the vast dimensions of the ocean even if he cannot add much to it. 1031 1032 / Review for Religious. l/olume 33, .1974/5 The dimensions of the question of the formation of contemplatives in action are indeed vast, and the real answer will not be given by any writer, but existentially by communities who do something about it. After all, for-mation is a practical issue. PART I: TIlE PERSON The beginning of any search should be an inquiry. We have already broken up the big fundamental issue into three more particular ones, and now we focus on the first: Who is a contemplative in action? Two qualities must be present in the person: the capacity to contemplate and the ability to act. Moreover, the two should be blended together; this is what the issue implies. Hence, to put our search on the right paths, there should be an even more particularized sequence of questions. Let us ask therefore: Who is a contemplative person? Who is a person of action? And finally, to see how the two blend together, let us see who is an integrated person. Who Is a Contemplative Person? The term "contemplative" can be used in different senses. At times, it means a hermit, a recluse, or a religious with strict enclosure: then it focuses on the external situation in which a person is found, such as solitude and separation from the world. At times, the term means a person bent on in-tellectual reflection: then it focuses on the internal disposition of a writer, of an artist, of anyone who is of reflective type. The Christian Contemplative In Christian tradition, the word includes a sacred dimension: a con-templative person is the one who experiences in his innermost being a tran-scendent and sacred power that draws him to Christ. All the words in this general description° connote a mystery. To be contemplative, then, is to experience in the depths of our being the intrusion of a power that moves us to a direction that is beyond our horizons. This experience does not enter-tain the senses; they can remain thirsty and hungry. Nor does it satisfy the intelligence; it can remain frustrated and empty. But the experience brings a meaning to our humanity even if not every part of it can appreciate its values. The content of the experience is hard to describe; it is not concep-tual; it is the perception of an internal movement that does not necessarily bring new knowledge nor leave a specific impression on our being. Rather, we become aware of an energy that is given to us from a source that is more powerful than ourselves. It comes from a world that is beyond our ordinary capacity to see or to reach. It comes from a transcendental source. This power that wells up in our being is apprehended as sacred. It is concerned with our ultimate destination. It comes from God; it carries us to God. The discovery of this energy may remind us of the precious pearl of a great value; the merchant who finds it sells all to buy it (see Matt 13:45-6). The Formation o] Contemplatives in Action / 1033 The analogy is partially right. The gift is more precious than any pearl, and to sell all to have it makes good sense. Yet the same gift is not an object to be stored and exposed for admiration; rather we become aware of a current that takes hold of us, of a movement that reaches us at the depth of our being. Other Descriptions oI a Contemplative This description leads to another formulation of the definition of a con-templative person. He is the one who is ordinarily aware of the presence and power of the Lord in him and who follows the direction of the move-ment imprinted in him. This definition is more personal; it names the source of the power--it is the Lord. All is put into the context of a person-to-person relationship. The energy is transcendental and sacred because it originates in the one who moves all living things. The experience of the power is an obscure aware-ness of the Lord reminiscent somewhat of the experience of the Apostles fishing on the Sea of Tiberias at the breaking of the dawn and noticing a stranger on the shore. Attracted by His unusual presence, surprised by the power of His voice, gradually they became aware that it was the Lord. The intrusion of the Lord in our life is a gift that does not create a state of romantic happiness; rather, it helps us to realize the complexity of our nature. We can be happy at some depths and yet suffer acutely from thirst and hunger. We can be resigned at one level and yet mourn the loss of a loved person at another level. We can be anchored through hope and yet tossed around by the uncertainties of this world that may amount even to persecution. The gift of contemplation and the discovery of it could be described in many other ways. All would be analogical and incomplete. We could speak about a small light that attracts from a great distance but does not alleviate the darkness and the loneliness of the night. We could speak about a rising inner security that holds a person firm while he is subject to present and future shocks from a world that changes around him. The term "contemplative" may not be the best to describe a person so blessed, since traditionally it implies an intellectual vision and does not con-vey the idea of participation in a movement. The distinction between the two--vision and movement--may be flimsy especially at greater depths. Nonetheless, the term has been sanctioned by tradition; hence it would be difficult to break away from it. Besides, there is no adequate term to cover the reality we described. Through this awareness of God's presence and power, a person trans-cends himself, is carried beyond himself. He enters a new universe that is marked by God's immensity and His infinity. The old conceptual horizons with their precise circumscriptions disappear, and new desires get hold of the heart. The actions of such a person will spring from a new source. 1034 / Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/5 Becoming a Contemplative Person We attempted an answer to the question: Who is a contemplative per.- son? To understand him further, let us raise the question: How does some-one become a contemplative person? Clearly, there is no other way of becoming a contemplative person than by discovering internally the Lord's power. The gift is independent of us, but the process of discovery is somewhat within our capacity. This search for the elusive gift that is present enough to attract us and absent enough to require a long journey has been frequently described in Christian tradition as a descent into greater depths or as an ascent to greater heights or as a steady progress into ever more intimate dwellings of God in our being. All these allegories are meaningful; all converge into saying that there is a process that ought to be a progress toward a closer relation-ship with the Lord. Usually we speak of the pilgrim's progress, of man's journey to God; correct speech would require us to speak of God's progress in overwhelming man with His grace and power. The initiative is really His at every stage. Yet we can resist His approaches or subtly divert our attention from them. Hence, pragmatically, it serves a purpose to speak of our own journey to God. Perhaps to reconcile the exigencies of the primacy of grace and of our own need to be alert to God, we can use a modern alle-gory and speak about a process of liberation that man must go through to be transformed into an image of God. The principal agent in this process is the Lord, but we are real, active agents as well, if not to the extent of giving freedom to ourselves, at least to the point of removing obstacles before the helping hand of God. Need for Progression in Depth We take up the traditional allegory in a different way: to become a con-templative person means to enter into life with increasing intensity. There is a need for progress in depth. Man indeed is a complex being endowed with an awareness of life at different levels: on the level of what his senses can perceive and communicate, on the level of what his mind can penetrate and understand, and on the level that has no limitations because it opens up into the infinite universe discovered through faith. We all live and move on all these levels; in the awareness of our being, they intermingle, they form a unity. Nonetheless, a person's development can be arrested on the level of a world communicated to him through his senses, without much understanding, without the light of faith. A person can find satisfaction on the level of hu-man intelligence, a worthy and dignified life it would be, yet without the hope that springs from faith. Finally, a person can reach the depths that faith brings and let all his life be invaded by the light and strength that origi-nates in the Lord who revealed Himself through the contingencies of human history. The Formation o] Contemplatives in Action / 1035 Libration from the Communications of the Senses The life of a person can revolve around the content of those communi-cations that he receives from his senses, and the expansion of his personality into the fascinating world of creative intelligence or into the limitless world of faith can be impeded. Such a person is underdeveloped. Without know-ing it, he is a captive of those steady impacts that he receives from the out-side world; his being relishes them, or at least is attached to them, at times to the point that any desire to go deeper is weakened to the point of ex-tinction. Our particular culture favors such an attitude. Much of the press, radio, television, cinema thrives on the passive receptivity of the public; the media rarely stimulate creative activity; still less do they send their readers, lis-teners, o~ viewers into an advefiture of faith. When someone is immersed in that world, the impression clouds his mind and cancels out the natural dynamism of a desire for better things. If this is so, there is a need for an internal war of liberation. To begin with, the person must become conscious of his mutilated state; he must admit that his growth has been arrested, and that he is deprived of a fully human and Christian life. Obviously enough, we are speaking more of a principal trend than of an absolute univocal state. There will always be some intelligent activity in every person, some movements of faith in every Christian, but the question is which of these many trends prevails. '°~AI great deal of our traditional asceticism was meant to liberate the pers.o~ from the captivity that communications from the senses can induce. Thus far it was good; it went wrong when it assumed that mortification alone can achieve liberation. It is also necessary to show the person broader vistas of intelligence and' faith that attract. No one will ever exchange some-thing for nothing, but show him a better value that pulls his being and-he will be ready to sacrifice many things. Many novitiates failed in the past because they taught asceticism without opening up new horizons. As soon as the novitiate was over, the imposed practices collapsed, and there was no realization of new frontiers that opened up into a new world. Liberation from the overbearing communications that come through our senses is necessary, but it can be achieved only by the steady pull of higher values consistently present in our consciousness. Liberation from the Limitations of Intelligence A person's life can focus mainly on the fascinating world of his creative intelligence. This is progress in depth; it means more humanity, it means greater likeness to God's image. Yet it has limitations: it does not know the immense world opened up by faith, or, when that world is presented, it can impede the person from entering into the dizzy unknown that he cannot measure or explain. The world of human intelligence can offer much human satisfaction. We feel at home there, the problems are of our own size, and 1036 / Review Sot Religious, Volume 33, 1974/5 the objects of our desires are attainable. It is all a comfortable and also a comforting world, but, because there is a longing in man for the infinite, a reassuringly human world can become a prison; man can enclose himself in a universe proportionate to his mind. A process of liberation may be necessary precisely to enter a new universe opened up by faith, perhaps by the experience of the presence and power of the Lord in our innermost being. Much of the traditional literature that spoke about the mortification of judgment intended to speak about the freeing of the mind for the impact of faith, about opening up our being for God's own horizons. It was right as far as it did not suggest an empty exercise but rather showed .the greatness of God and the harm6ny of His plan which makes worthwhile an exchange that leads to the loss of our thoughts and desires. The New World o] Faith To live on the level of faith is to live in a new universe with God in its center, known as He revealed Himself through Jesus Christ. In Him, all things and events receive a meaning--our own life included. The limitations of our humanity imposed by the senses and by our intelligence are broken up; there is an infinite openness in every direction. The transition into the world of faith is a radical ch.ange. Once again, it brings out the complexity of our natui'e. While the deepest and the best in us relishes the expansion of our horizons into infinity, while'~we experience a new security in our Maker, our mind misses the clarit.y, of human equations, and our senses long for the security of a more familiar world. Paradoxically the universe of God that brings peace to our restless he~-t unsettles our intelligence and our senses. For those who live by faith, the awareness of a deep security is compatible with the experience of insecurity in their human-ity. To comprehend this seemingly contradictory situation is the clue to the acceptance of it. Many recoil from entering the universe of faith because they cannot handle this complex situation in themselves, and they do not realize that the resulting tension is the ordinary lot of a pilgrim who is entering into an unknown land. No writer has ever better described this paradoxical state than St. John of the Cross: To enjoy all enjoy nothing; To possess all, possess nothing; To be all; be nothing; To know all, know nothing. To reach what you do not enjoy go where there is no enjoyment; The Formation oj Contemplatives in Action / 1037 To learn what you do not know, tread the path of ignorance; To obtain what you do not possess, walk without possessions; To be what you are not, leave behind all that you are. (The Ascent o] Mount Carmel, Book 1, Chapter 13) Our translation is not literal. Its intent is more to bring out the stark simplicity of the Spanish text than to render exactly each word. Once we understand the complexity of our nature, those sharp contrasts painted by the saint become meaningful. At one level our being can embrace all and be satisfied, while on another level it is thoroughly frustrated and empty. In the depths of our heart we can know of the presence of a mystery and accept its demands, while our mind and senses cry out for some nourishment more proportionate to their desires. The Paradoxes of a Li[e in Faith No one should be surprised if a person entering the universe of faith and experiencing its dimensions and demands on his being becomes upset and appears disoriented. He has a fine balancing job to do, and it cannot be learned in one day. Moreover, he may discover new depths every day, and like all humans he may become dizzy and scared. He must reconcile securi-ty with insecurity, satisfaction with hunger, a most intense personal relation-ship with a human loneliness. He experiences courage and fear, the ex-pansion of his own personality and the loss of friends who do not under-stand. But as the balancing work progresses, he begins to be himself in a fuller sense of the word than he has known before. Almost certainly, he be-comes both a witness who attracts and a sign that is contradicted. He finds his journey both lonely and exhilarating. Strangely enough, as he progresses into the unknown land of faith, his humanity opens up and his intelligence becomes more creative than ever and his senses partake somehow in celebrating new discoveries. Such a person is anything but dull; he is the salt of the earth--with a tang. Summing It Up To sum it all up: a human perso.n can live on different levels. His life may revolve around the impacts that his senses communicate, or his life be an expression of the creativity of human intelligence, or his life may be the sharing of God's life and of His universe in faith. To speak about levels, of course, is to use a metaphor to express somehow the complexity of our nature, about which there can be no doubt. These levels blend into each other, and a thoughtful person graced by God should progress from the more external to the more .internal, from human desires to divine in-vitations. There is a dynamism in our being that attempts to bring it con-tinuously to greater depths. 1038 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/5 The right question about the formation of contemplatives can be formu-lated now; it is: How can a person be helped to progress into the universe of faith; how can his attention be directed to the unknown land that God's revelation opens up, and how can he be attracted into desiring an adven-ture? In particular, the question should be put: How can a person be helped during the specific crisis of transition from the world of human measures into the unmeasurable universe of God? To this question, we shall return when we speak of the process and pro-gram of formation. Before doing so, we must reflect on action that springs from contemplation. Who Is a Person of Action? A contemplative person is the one who experiences the Lord's presence and power in his innermost being, a close interpersonal relationship. Is it a closed relationship as well? Or, is it open so as to" inspire action? At any rate, who is a person of action? Two Misconceptions To clear our mind for a fruitful inquiry, let us exorcise it from two mis-conceptions. One conceives human action as something added to a person from the outside in much the same way as an external object can be pegged onto a tree. Such an aberration, of course, does not make any sense. Human action proceeds from the depths of a person, as the fruit is produced from the inner potentials of a tree. As there is an organic, sequential unity between the tree and the fruit, so there is a dynamic and harmonious unity between the inner riches of a man and his actions. They cannot be considered separately, even if mentally we draw a distinction between cause and effect. Another mistake is to think that actions to be significant ought to be s.pectacular. °They must initiate a new movement, or they must make a dra-matic impact on thousands. Not so! Significant action can evolve around humbler objects, as the actions of a Christian mother who takes care of her family, or the actions of a monk who with sudden inspiration or enduring patience creates a new melody to praise the Lord. By action, we mean all kinds of creative activity that somehow enriches this universe. Action Is an Enrichment o[ the Universe Now that these understandings are out of the way, we can return to our question: Who is a person of action? He is the one who brings fruit that can be seen by his fellow men and enriches them. The quality of the action depends on the potentials of the person who produces it; and the state of his mind, of his heart will be projected into his actions. An action is first born when our intelligence discovers a possibility for enriching this universe. It ought to be a real possibility in the sense that The Formation o] Contemplatives in Action / 1039 the action once taken will blend into a broader plan that is already un-folding outside us. Therefore, no one can be sensibly active unless he can direct his attention to all relevant facts around him, unless he can grasp an intelligent pattern behind them; moreover, he must have strength and energy to transform a possibility into reality. Action is indeed an act of creation. Through it, man somehow tran-scends himself, produces something new, similar to his internal x;ision and desire. When active, man becomes more like God, his creator; after all, he was made to the image of God. Not only is there nothing wrong with action; there would be something missing in a man who is not active--the image of God our creator would not be complete. It follows also that due to the complexity of our nature our actions may originate at different levels; the quality of action will reflect the quality of its source. Levels o] Action An action may originate in what is communicated through the senses without the benefit of intelligent reflection and judgment and without the enlightening influence of faith. It can be a mere emotional response, or it can be a way of doing what the others are doing; in such a case, a man operates in a poor way. What is best in his humanity does not participate in the action. The external act is. marked by its shallow origin; it does not create "a new harmony in the world, it merely add's to the universal noise. At best, the.person beats the drum with the others. An action may proceed from intelligent insight and reasonable judg-ment. Such action is certainly worthy of man, although it may not reflect the wisdom of God that is scandal to the Jews and sheer stupidity to the pagans. Some fields of human activity requir~ this type of action, such as going back and forth in space. After all, the laws of space are proportionate to our intelligence, and consequently, a proper field for reasonable opera-tions. But such action is not enough to build the reign of Christ. The deepest source of action in a Christian is in his contemplation, in his awareness of the Lord's presence and power. When action comes from such depths, it must pass through the screening of critical intelligence; it must also reflect the humanity of our senses: nonetheless, it is born from grace. It comes from God, it builds the kingdom. The Liberation o[ Action As in the case of contemplation, there is a problem of transition into the universe of faith to which Christian actions ultimately must ~be adjusted. Since it does not provoke an immediate reaction on the level of the senses, since it does not prompt ~n immediate intelligent response, our action itself can appear as a journey into the vast immensity of the unknown; all the problems of the paradox we described for contemplation are manifest in 1040 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/5 this field too. Also, the process of liberation must take place in a similar way. Our action must proceed from an increasingly deeper source. A Christian person of action, then, is the one who received God's grace in his whole being and in whom grace brought fruit for the enrichment of the world around him. There is integrity in such a person because his beliefs are followed by good deeds, and those deeds do not spring from an emotional reaction, not even from mere human reasoning, but from a depth which is scrutinized by the Spirit of God. Such a person has a unity in his being; he is whole, he is made of one piece; in his acts of creative action, he mani-fests the image of the Creator. All the elements are together now to answer the question: Who is an integrated person? Who Is an Integrated Person? An integrated Christian person is the one who has developed his poten-tials fully, and thus he became whole. He lives his life with all the intensity his resources allow. He experiences God's presence and power in his inner-most being, and he builds the kingdom of God through external action. In a small scale, he revives something of the mystery of the Incarnation. He is in this world, and he is attentive to all that happens around him. He brings his intelligence to bear on all facts and events. Through his in-sights, he penetrates deeper than the apparent truth. He is liberated enough to see new possibilities, and, once he has decided on a course of action, he is

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

Issue 34.3 of the Review for Religious, 1975. ; Review ]or Religious is edited by faculty members of the School of Divinity of St. Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building: 539 North Grand Boulevard: St. Louis, Missouri 63103. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. 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. Single copies: $1.75. Sub-scription U.S.A. and Canada: $6.00 a year; $I1.00 for two years; olher countries, $7.00 a year, $13.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order payable to Review ]or Religious in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to repre~nt Review ]or Religious. Change of address requests should include former address. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor May 1975 Volume 34 Number 3 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 Noah 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. Models of Spiritual Direction David L. Fleming, S.J. David L. Fleming, S.J., is Co-director of the Institute of Religious Formation at the School of Divinity of St. Louis University; 3634 Lindell Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63108. Religious men and women today often find themselves in deep disagreement about the role of spiritual direction in their lives. The basic problem lies often enough in the inability to distinguish the various ways of understanding spiritual direction which have been developed in the Christian tradition. A. Models of Spiritual Direction lnspi~:ed by Father Avery Dulles' book, Models of the Church, 1 would like to propose a similar approach.to be used to better our understanding of spiritual direction. Dulles carefully makes the case that church has no single comprehensive definition, but as contemporary theology views it, church is in need of many models held simultaneously to gain a more adequate under-standing. In a similar way, I believe that we will come to a far richer apprecia-tion of spiritual direction if we consider various models which haye tried to capture what it is and how it works. The advantage of models in understanding spiritual direction, just as in working with the notion of church, arises out of the necessary obscurities of religious language and the area of religious experience. Spiritual direction deals with an ultimate level of religious mystery of a God and man love-relationship. As a result, our religious language should be looked upon as forming models because it can only approximate the object which it is trying to grasp. Whenever we use a model conception, we break the illusion that we are actually holding the infinite within the finite structures of our language. Moreover, a variety of models opens up the possibility of our not getting fixed upon any particular one and taking it as an idol. At the same time, through a 35'1 352 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/3 variety of models we will more easily allow for the greater expression of the subjective element which is at the core of,all religious experience. 1 will propose, then, five models of spiritual direction that are found in our Christian heritage. Spiritual direction can come in a group setting such as faith-sharing groups, small group discussions, or review-of-life groups. But here I will propose five models that deal only with personal spiritual direction, that is, one director with one being directed. For personal direction holds a privileged place in our tradition, and group activity does not eliminate its value or its need. 1 do not pretend that five models form an exhaustive list, but I think that it covers a help.ful spectrum of ideas about spiritual direction as it has come to be understood and practiced in the Church. The five models 1 have chosen are: I) direction as institutionalized; 2) direction as interpersonal relationship; 3) direction as charismatic; 4) direction as sacramental; and 5) direction as incarnational. ! will describe briefly spiritual direction as un-derstood in each of these models, touching somewhat on both the strengths of the model and the weaknesses. In trying to identify each clearly, I face the risk of caricaturing, but that is not my intention. All models should be valued and respected. I) Direction as Institutionalized Spiritual direction is institutionalized in the functions of the novice direc-tor, the designated spiritual director of a seminary, the tertian director, and sometimes the superior, especially as understood in the original role of the ab-bot or in the lgnatian idea of a superior. Direction in this model is carried out particularly by instructing in the spiritual and religious life. Spiritual direction is considered in terms of formation; it has a molding role, and so it connotes a certain control over a person's life development. Oftentimes direction in this model exercises a judgmental role because candidates for religious life or for the priesthood must be declared fit or not fit and so accepted or rejected. Spiritual direction in this designated job-form plays an important part in the Church today, just as it has in past centuries. Among the advantages of this model, the clarity of formation is assured, because the necessary instruction about spiritual development is not left to chance. Definite goals and some set means are a part of the direction ex-change, in this model, we find a certain control over the competency of the director since the "job" of direction was assigned usually by superiors who have judged a person's fittingness for such a role. From the letters of St. Paul giving direction to communities and to individuals, through the early models of direction by the desert fathers, we find deep in Christian tradition the bases of this institutional model. But a number of weaknesses are also apparent in this model. Obviously freedom is minimal in setting up the relationship of direction since the one be-ing directed must subject himself to the person whose function it is to fulfill the assigned job as director. Direction seems to be more a matter of imposition of Models of Spiritual Direction life style and spiritual practices than an evoking of personal growth. Direction also appears to be quite limited in time-value, for it covers primarily the for-mational period or, beyond that, the possible crisis period which needs infor-mation or judgment. 2) Direction as Interpersonal Relationship In this model, spiritual direction is defined primarily in terms of a per-sonal relationship--the closer the friendship the better. Direction, then, usually has the aspect of friendly sharing and loving support. While still main-taining the interpersonal basis, this model of direction sometimes makes studied use of psychological techniques, e.g. the transactional analysis methods. Even with the possibility of a certain psychological approach being consciously employed, direction attempts to focus equally upon the interper-sonal relationship of the two friends (the one directing and the one directed) and the growth in a life-response to God. Frequently in this model, the two people involved exchange roles of director with each other so that spiritual direction becomes a mutual involvement. The strengths of this model are evident in the presence of the love, care, and concern which permeate the relationship in all its aspects. As in any friendship, the free gift of self to each other is assured. Self-disclosure with all its dreams, ideals, fears, and disappointments flows very naturally as the friendship continues to deepen. While contemporary attitudes, especially in reaction to the institutional model of direction, favor this kind of approach, historically it also rests on strong evidence from the example of various saints' friendships with each other and from the written correspondence of direction. When we consider the weaknesses, we note that such a model may overstress the humanistic and so not allow for the distance between reason and grace, which never perfectly coincide. Even though in one sense friends can speak up honestly and forthrightly to each other, in another sense their lack of distance may blind each other to the very areas which need attention. Sometimes even the best of friends find that they are frozen in speaking about one or other area because of the delicacy of the love relationship between them. Another difficulty arises when psychological techniques enter into the picture too consciously; we may find a good helping relationship, but one which takes very little notice of the presence of God or the dynamism of grace. 3) Direction as Charismatic Spiritual direction in this model finds a basis in the diakrisis or discretio of St. Paul's grace-gifts within the Body of Chrigt. Because of the stress upon the special character of this person who is truly a "spiritual discerner," spiritual direction itself is seen as a rarity. St. Teresa of Avila is often quoted in support of this viewpoint because she said that only one person in a thousand is capable of direction work. Just to make the point more clearly, St. Francis de Sales is cited for his observation that a director may number only one in ten thousand. 354 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/3 Following the biblical image of forgiveness as seventy times seven, both saints are not using modern statistics, but rather they are indicating the special gift which is demanded of the director in spiritual direction work. For spiritual direction as understood here is defined more in terms of insight or infused in-tuition from God. Direction has an aura of the marvelous about it. The emphasis seems to focus more on the arcane directions which will be given to the person directed--special divine messages which come from the "reading of a soul" by the inspired director. The strengths of such a view certainly include the great stress made upon the gift-notion of spiritual direction. Direction in this model catches up two people in the atmosphere of the divine, and the process receives its proper emphasis of being more than human technique and human response, it does point up that a "seeing deeper" with the eyes of faith highlights the relationship of direction. There is a certain basis in both the Old and New Testament, and some examples in Christian hagiography to support such a viewpoint. The weaknesses become apparent in the over-significance attributed to the power of God's grace--looking for its presence only in the spectacular or the marvelous. It seems to restrict God's gifts far too much to the extraordinary in the light of human judgment. As a result, spiritual direction itself becomes an extraordinary means in the life of the Church spiritual tradition. But the history of spirituality does not support this conclusion. 4) Direction as Sacramental Spiritual direction has long been seen in terms of a sacramental model because of the confessor-penitent relationship in the sacrament of penance. Because of the sacramental grace of priestly ordination, the priest himself was seen to be a very special instrument of God and to embody the gifts of ministry which we find in the writings of St. Paul. The words which a priest speaks, then, have greater importance than mere human opinion or advice because they are spoken by God's human representative. More particularly, within the sacrament of penance the priest-confessor often has words of advice or counsel. This context becomes the only true setting of spiritual direction because of the certain ex opere operato effect of words spoken within the sacramental encounter. Such counsel within the context of the sacrament takes in, not just the area of sinful tendencies, but all the attitudes and ways of acting which relate to the God-orientation of a person's life. The advantages of this model include the emphasis given to a more balanced sense of the sacrament of penance. Confession itself is not a mechanistic forgiveness; it has a human relationship involved between the priest-representative of the Church and the penitent. There is no doubt that God-inspired words of counsel or advice do take place in the sacramental con-text. Yet as every priest knows experientially, such words cannot be presumed automatically--one flagrant handicapping of God's action being the prepared Models of Spiritual Direction / 355 little "sermon" which each penitent, no matter what he may confess, may receive on a particular Saturday confession period. But two-human beings, so consciously aware of the special presence of God in the sacramental relationship, are both more readily open to the word of God being spoken and being received. The merit of this viewpoint rests upon a long tradition stem-ming from the penitential manuals of the Irish monks of the eighth century to the more contemporary confession manuals dating from the seventeenth cen-tury in which direction brings a fullness to and finds its proper setting in the sacrament of penance. The weaknesses of such a model are found in the restrictions which it puts upon spiritual direction itself. Because of the sacramental setting, a priest is the only qualified spiritual director. Direction, then, flows properly from the ministry of priesthood. If other men and women carry on this work, it is only as "secondary" helpers to the priest who gives over to them this function. This viewpoint seems to take for granted that priesthood ministry inclu.des all the ministries to be found within the Church, but this conception has no sound basis in scripture or tradition. Direction in this model also takes on too magical a sense in that whatever is said within the context of the sacrament becomes true spiritual counsel. 5) Direction as Incarnational This model of direction is one that is probably receiving most attention to-day in the revival of the practice of spiritual direction. The name incarnational given to describe it calls a little too ostentatiously to the Christian connotation of God-becoming-man. Spiritual direction takes it place among the many "fleshly" means which make up God's ordinary way of salvation as un-derstood in Christianity. From Jesus Christ through the Apostles down to our own contemporary Church, we know that God has a design of salvation mediated by our fellowmen. Direction, then, is seen in its ordinariness of one man helping another to clarify and objectify God's will in his life. At the same time, direction is known to be a relationship of two persons caught up in the presence and power of God in this very ordinary encounter, and so both are aware by faith of the privileged grace-time which direction makes available. Elements which are present in the incarnation of the God-man have their analogous components in the direction relationship. Human preparation, faith, and an openness to the movement of God are necessary, and then a recognition that any true fruition of the direction relationship comes from the Spirit. This model of direction is also properly identified as incarnational in that no aspect of a person's life is left apart from the direction context, since man as a whole--physically, psychologically, and spiritually--must grow in his response to God's unique call to him. The advantages of this model are especially seen in terms of the developments of our own day. It presents a conceptual notion of direction that is deeply in tune with the whole process of renewal in the Church. It builds 356 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/3 upon the richness of contemporary scriptural and theological studies, par-ticularly in the areas of Christology and Ecclesiology. It maintains a sure emphasis on the humanness of this relationship in direction, while still placing the solidity of growth as a God-empowered gift. Direction in this model is an ordinary means of spiritual growth in the embodied spirituality which is Christianity. This way of understanding direction has good foundation in both scripture and tradition since we find God acting through men in giving advice and warning (e.g. Jeremiah), in making a person aware of how to listen to God (e.g. Samuel and Saul), in clarifying and objectifying a response (e.g. David and Nathan), and in instruction (e.g. Ananias and Paul). The example con-tinues in the many volumes of spiritual writings and letters which we have as a legacy from holy men and women in our Catholic history. The weaknesses of this model arise somewhat from the novelty of its recent re-emphasis. It may too easily be seen as a good human relationship sprinkled over with pious words about God's will. Direction may look so ordinary that the only conclusion to be drawn is that everyone needs it and is capable of profiting from it and just about everyone has the ability to give direction. Then, too, taking in the whole of one's life as the subject-matter seems to leave this model of direction open to a lack of preciseness--no clear understanding of the concerns of direction or the ways of going about it. In a similar way, direction seems to lack clarity about the quality of this spiritual relationship--mixing friendship and distance or professionalism, and or-dinariness and the sense of the holy. B. A Model of Models? In review, all the models have played and do play an important part in our full understanding of spiritual direction--what it is, who does it, to whom it has value, how to go about it, and so on. What 1 hope to have shown is that we can understand spiritual direction in various ways (not just one right way), and that as a result there are various expectations on the part of the director and the one being directed, various methods of directing, and even different ways of valuing its importance for mature spiritual life. To try to reduce the various models of spiritual direction to a single one is to lose sight of the incomprehensible richness of religious experience which forms the content of direction. Neither the strengths nor the weaknesses of the various approaches or models are neatly reducible to a single model. Even after describing each model in its purity, we should be aware that a blending often happens in ~ictual praciice. What we tend to do is to make one model our pivotal model for adapting and understanding other ways of functioning in spiritual direction. But to hold one model as pivotal is quite different from maintaining that there is only one way of understanding and practicing spiritual direction. If I were to opt for a pivotal model for our own day, 1 would choose direc-tion described as incarnational. I believe that it allows for a greater understand-ing of the continuing importance of spiritual direction, especially for the men Models ojSpiritual Direction / 3!i7 and women who have recognized or who are in the process of recognizing the call to specialized ministry roles within the Church. It also more easily allows for the importance of other understandings of direction and other methodologies according to circumstances, though it maintains an adequacy for its own method as a common pattern. Far more work must still be done to gain .an appreciation of the richness which we possess in the Christian practice of spiritual direction. Presently, to be able to hold the different models of direction in tension allows us to draw a little closer to a more adequate truth and a more varied beauty which encompass the mystery of spiritual direction ministry. Creative Response To A Call Within "The Call" Sister Marie Gatza, I.H.M. Sister Marie Gatza, I.H.M., participated in the Workshop of National Vocation Directors which met at Mercy Center in Farmington, Michigan, during the summer of 1974. She is Assistant General of the Sisters Servants of the Immaculate Heart of Mary; Saint Mary Convent; Monroe, Michigan 48161. The area of "Transfer," is, I am told, fast becoming a matter of concern among Vocation Directors. In the past, there have been rare instances of transfers centered mostly on permissions given to leave an active for a con-templative congregation, a less strict order for a stricter one. However, the topic of "Transfer" is a relatively recent new-comer among religious life con-cepts within Congregations of women in the United States, and so not too much has yet made its way into current literature. Opportunities to learn more about the idea of "Transfer,'" "therefore, come best through situations like the workshop of Vocation Directors at Mercy Center in Farmington where during the Summer of 1974, I had the privilege of contributing the ideas developed in this essay. In trying to think how I could most effectively focus the concentration of workshop members on the topic of"Transfer," 1 found that four key questions readily surfaced: I. Why would a Sister desire to leave her parent Congregation? 2. What factors greatly influence the thinking of Sisters in their search for a Congregation into which they can transfer? 3. What motivation would impel a Congregation to welcome into its membership a Sister who has already finalized her commitment in another Congregati6n? 358 Creative Response to a Call Within "The Call" / 359 4. Given mutuality on the part of the Sister to enter and of the Congrega-tion to receive, what procedural steps are basic to achieving the transfer of a Sister from one Congregation to another? I would like to treat each of these questions, now, in some detail. Then in addition to these four questions, it seems well to attend, even briefly, to the beginnings of evaluation of the concept of "Transfer" as we perceive it operating today within religious Congregations. I Why do Sisters feel convinced that they must leave the Congregation in which they pronounced Perpetual Vows? Because the reasons given by each of the Sisters cited here are so in-dividual, it would not be wise--or even possible--for me to generalize in response to this question. What we can do, however, is to take some mini-glimpses into the lives of a few Sisters who saw "Transfer" as vital to the continuance of their religious commitment. From them we may learn that the motives which led Sisters to request transfer are many and varied. My first example is SISTER P who had been for almost twenty years a member.of a cloistered Congregation, which recently, as a matter of entering into renewal of Religious life, permitted coursework for its Sisters on the cam-puses of nearby Catholic colleges. Sister P was greatly enthusiastic about her opportunity for college education, and discovered that she had a gift for and a great desire to impart knowledge to others in a classroom situation. She found the world of apostolic teaching increasingly fascinating, and at the same time was aware of a persistent questioning within herself as to whether she was really fitted for, or any longer drawn to the contemplative life, despite the years she had already spent within it. She asked for a leave of absence in order to test out her vocation in a Congregation whose main apostolic thrust is education. SISTER N became a candidate in the Congregation of her choice after completing secondary school, and entered, with apparent enthusiasm, into full-scale studies toward becoming a teacher in the Congregation's apostolate of education. Toward the end of nearly twenty years of service in various schools, and maintaining only love and reverence for her own active congregation, she felt the persistent call of the Lord to continue'her religious life in a more con-templative setting. Her transfer to a contemplative community was, therefore, effected. SISTER T's story is a second testimonial to the fact that transfer is a two-way proposition: some come, others go. 360 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/3 Sister T, brilliantly endowed intellectually, chose to transfer from the original foundation Motherhouse of her congregation to one of its branches. Her choice for this action seemed to be motivated by the fact that the style and tempo of that community much more surely encompassed her thoughts on renewal in religious life than did that of her own Congregation. When SISTER S first came into contact with the congregation into which she ultimately transferred, she was in her early thirties, and had already been questioning her current situation in religious life. Sister S's diocesan Com-munity consisted of only thirty-four, mostly older members, who in Sister's es-timation had not sufficient theological background to enable them to cope with renewal. At the offset, Sister's motivation for approaching another religious con-gregation was primarily one of a desire to earn her degree. In the course of completing her studies, she came into close contact with the life-style of the faculty, Sisters who were her peers in the Juniorate, and a number of other Sisters belonging to the Congregation which staffed her college. At gradua-tion, Sister realized that the determination to transfer was still much alive within her, and took a most natural next-step: seek transfer permanently to that congregation. SISTER G, educated in elementary an'd secondary schools staffed by Sisters dedicated primarily to education, chose to enter another congregation whose apostolate included social work, for which she felt-a strong inclination. Ironically, at the time she requested entry into religious life, the congregation of her choice was in great need of teachers rather than of social workers, and so, Sister G was educated for the teaching field, a profession in which, however, she learned to find joy and satisfaction. After 19 years in community, Sister G's mother became ill and was in desperate need of her help. Sister appealed to her Provincial, requesting to live and teach with the group of Sisters in the town where her mother's home was located, a move that enabled her to be closer to her mother. Because Sister G's congregation at the time did not approve of inter- Congregational living situations, she was required to take a leave of absence in order to'care for her mother. Sister's two years of leave were painful ones for her in that she felt an absence of support from her Congregation, and grew in-creasingly concerned that her request to care for her mother in this way had displeased her former superiors. A sense of disappointment,-discouragement and alienation resulted. Meanwhile, her conviction of being at home and loved in her temporary living situation became more compelling, and Sister's thoughts focused on the advisability of asking for a transfer. Her present status 'is one of preparing to finalize her commitment to the Lord in her new Congregation. SISTER M is a promising young Ph.D., gifted as well with an unusually Creative Response to a Call Within "The ('all" / 361 strong sense of commitment to religious life, and a very real love and loyalty to her own Congregation. Sister M's reason for seeking transfer is expressed clearly in this sentence taken from one of her letters: "I am reluctant to make this transfer, but have found peace of mind with the decision, since affiliation with the community, ¯ promises greater freedom to respond to the heart of my religious vocation and to the needs of the Church as ! understand them." Interestingly, Sister M is at the present moment making one last effort to work things out with her own Congregation. I do not know whether or not her transfer will materialize. These examples, though few, indicate that reasons for thinking of transfer are much conditioned by a variety of circumstances in which Sisters find themselves. I1 What considerations greatly influence the thinking of Sisters in their search for a specific Congregation into which they would hope to transfer? I suppose that it would be next to impossible to make a comprehensive listing of the factors influencing Sisters in their search for another Congrega-tion in which they can live out the religious cohamitment already begun in the first, their parent Congregation. It is my experience that most Sisters who are interested in a possible transfer express in some way a feeling of affinity with the "new" Congrega-tion, and a supportiveness toward its thrust in Renewal. Where a House of Prayer has developed, for example, many Sisters relate very positively to the significance accorded this growing movement in the Christian life of our day, and are attracted by the centrality of importance accorded to both personal and communal prayer. Again, a basic belief in, and an inner assurance of, competency in relation to the apostolate of the new Congregation seems to enter significantly into a Sister's choice of a Community to which she might like to transfer. Sometimes, style Of living is an important consideration. A person's contact in childhood with the elected Congregation, that is, in elementary or secondary school years, or contact with members of a given Congregation in adult years may influence the Sister'.s decision to opt for one Congregation rather than another, if a transfer is sought. Occasionally, a more insightful approach is brought to the resolution of this question, i.e. "which Congregation?" ! recall, for example, a Sister who had entered religious life as an Aspirant after completing the eighth grade. Twelve years later, having pronounced perpetual vows, Sister asked to be ex-claustrated from her Congregation for the purpose of searching out whether religious life should c~ntinue to be her life-style. Her searching she did under direction, concluding that, yes, religious life was, indeed, what the Lord was :362 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/3 calling her to live; bt~t not, however, within the Congregation she had entered. After asking herself what it was within the spirit and heritage of her own Congregation that had been most helpful and inspirational to her, really at the heart of her vocation, Sister contacted better than a.dozen Congregations ask-ing for brochures. These she studied for indications of the traits that best em-bodied the spirit of the Congregation in which she had made her vows. In the end, it was the Congregation which she thought did this best that she ap-proached asking for a transfer. But whatever the method used, or whatever the degree of logic or clearness of purpose perceived by the Sister considering transfer, I believe it is fairly safe to say that the seeker is hopeful of finding in the new Congregation cir-cumstances that will be favorable for her living, in some rewarding way, a commitment which means very much to her; circumstances which for some reason or other may have been painfully absent in her life in Community up to this point. III What would be the motivation of a Congregation which welcomes as a new member o fits own a Sister who has already lived under permanent profession within another Congregation? First off, let's clarify one point beyond any confusion. There is probably small encouragement in the Church for supporting transfer at all. The nature of religious commitment, as it has been historically understood and accepted, i.e., "Community", "family", "leader-followers" concepts, argues for permanency within the parent Congregation. We have learned to speak of the "charism" of a Congregation: that unique spirit that characterizes a group of Sisters as a religious Congregation. Although it is hard to put one's fingers on exactly what it is that distinguishes one Congrega-tion from another, no one will deny that there is a certain something, a family bond or spirit which is recognizable to the members, and, to an appreciable ex-tent, able to be detected by outsiders, as well. In some effective way, it seems that the act of transferring from one Congregation to another has to take this matter of Community-charism into consideration. Granting this fact, even slight reflection leads to the conviction that transfer is not an action one opts to pursue lightly when life's more adven-turous movements taper, off into routine. No. To transfer from one's Congregation to another can result in virtually total uprooting, loss of friends, and severance from all that has been familiar for the individual. Should transfer become a more.common pr~actice, we could anticipate con-sequences for the parent Congregation, also. Loss of morale within the ranks, and diminished confidence in the Community outlook and thrust on the part of many of the members can develop exceedingly fast, as we have all learned through our own decrease in numbers sustained in recent years. Creative Response to a Call Within "'The Call" / 363 These considerations being so, a large number of transfers could hardly be thought desirable. One might ask, then, why do leaders of Congregations entertain the idea of transfer at all? Their motivation has to arise from a basic reverence for each individual call to religious life, and a desire to support a fellow Sister in her efforts to re-main faithful to her vocation, even if it means a painful re-planting. Those sup-porting transfer would have to act from a willingness and desire: a. to provide for a Sister some "time" and "space" away from her Congregation in which she can be free to sort out priorities while still being basically observant of the life style of a religious, -or-b. to provide a Sister with an opportunity to embrace the life and mission of a new Congregation for the sake of remaining faithful to her commit-ment to Christ, when it becomes apparent that she can no longer achieve this end within her own Congregation, -or much more rarely, willingness to engraft upon one's own Congregation (as was recently the case within a diocesan group in one of our Eastern States) a whole Com-munity of Sisters when a basic similarity of spirit, or charism prevails in the two Congregations in question. These thoughts indicate in some way, why a Congregation is sometimes willing to accept Sisters asking for a transfer. IV Given a Sister who believes she needs to have a new setting in which to continue living her religious vocation, and given a Congregation willing to think of her as a potential new member of its own, what must be done? The essentials are not too numerous, in my .experience. a. Willingness of the General Superiors of both Congregations to allow and welcome the fact of a transfer, is undoubtedly, of the essence. b. Some good help provided the Sister in discerning whether transfer is, in-deed, the Lord's will for her seems essential too. c. And, of course, proper transactions with Rome are required for the ob-taining of the needed "paper"--the Rescript of Transfer. Of these three, the step which admits of many specifics is the second one; the discernment process. Taking more time than not enough at this point, and being free to meet the individual needs of the Sister is a matter that must 364 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/3 receive priority at all costs. The space of a year, or more, can very profitably be employed in initially resolving the question of whether it would be mutually advantageous to bring about a transfer, and then of building a readiness for a transfer which is directed to future personal and apostolic fruitfulness for the Sister and for her new Congregation. In my Congregation, which has been open to requests of Sisters to transfer, dealing with Sisters who are thinking about this possibility is a work delegated to the Assistant of the General Superior. It is her responsibility as contact per-son to keep the General Superior and Provincials aware of the Sister's progress at stated times throughout the year. It is also understood that the contact person in some suitable way perform the following duties in re to the Sister seeking to transfer: I. The Contact person enables the Sister to find a situation in which she will live and work among her new Sisters as an actual member of her own Congregation for at least one year before any formal request is made to Rome. During this year a two-way evaluation is on-going: on the part of the Sister who is acquainting herself with the new Com-munity; and on the part of the chosen Community which tries to ask honestly: "Can our Congregation assist this Sister in her living of a healthy religious life and further our Community interests as well by welcoming her into our midst?" 2. The Contact person makes efforts to assist the Sister to become familiar with the members of the elected Community and their life-st'yle, Constitutions, prayer, Community history, and so on. 3. She arranges a realistic and practical system of contacts by means of which she herself, will keep in close contact with the possible transfer- Sister throughout the year. 4. It is her responsibility to establish, as well, during the year, some means of contacting the Sisters residing with Sister-transfer to see how they in-teract with her and she with them. 5. The Contact person may significantly assist her Superior in preparing the portfolio of materials needed to formalize the transfer at Rome, and within both Congregations of Sisters. 6. She enters into facilitating plans for the liturgical celebration marking completion of transfer. 7. She, finally, keeps files current: documents, letters, various com-munications. These suggestions form'at least a working outline of practical steps that will take on significance during the discernment period, especially. Here, then, are some thoughts on each of the four questions presented in the beginning of this essay. I have shown that transfer from one Congregation to another is possible; and while certainly not giving the last word on how it can come about, I have indicated the outline of a procedure for a starter. With Creative l~,esponse to a Call Within "The Call" / 365 all of this, ~owever, there is a yet unasked, but key question that must be sur-faced: I When all the externals and!formalities of the transfer have been com-pleted; when the document~ have been validated; when the ceremonial commemorating the event l~as become a matter of history, it still seems imperative to ask: Did a transfer really occur? Is it possible for a person to sink permanent roots in new soil twice in the space of a single, human lifetime? What sort of on-going~considerations would have to be borne in mind by the "new" community and satisfactorily dealt with by the transferred Sister so that she will not: -- be constantly lone!y? -- be often lacking in ~nderstanding because her past is so foreign in many ways fro~ the past of those with whom she now lives? -- be many times Iook~ing backward to a chapter of her life which is largely unsharable with others and now closed even to herself?, These questions--very real and, sometimes, harsh, lead one, unerringly to the ultimate question: "For h~w many can transfer really be an alternative'?" This presentation really c~uld end with the question 1 have just posed. Ho ever, as a kind of epilog~te, let me ask one further: w'what would happen were it possible for a Sister to live within another Congregation on an extended leave until such time arrived at which she could return in dignity an~ peace and joy to her own Congregation?" Might not this be an unusu~ai service of love that a Congregation could ex-tend not only to an individual ~eligious, but to its Sister-Congregation, as well? it's worth a thought! I Integrity in the Religious Life Sister Mary John Mananzan, O.S.B. Sister Mary John Mananzan is attached to St. Scholastica's College; 2560 Leon Guinto, Sr. St.; P.O. Box 3153; Manila, Philippines. There are virtues which are so all-encompassing that one can explain the other facets of religious life through them. It is not infrequent to explain religious life primarily through one of the vows--(of poverty, of chastity, and obedience) or primarily as a life of love and from there explain all its other features. One such encompassing virtue which, however, is rarely used to view religious life, is integrity. And it is not infrequent that religious people who ex-hibit m~iny external manifestations of virtue can be lacking in integrity. This lack of integrity .can be so subtle that such religious people become a real problem to honest but simple people who deal with the.m. These cannot put their .finger to a particular fault but somehow .they feel something is wrong somewhere. This article will try to analyze situations that exhibit the presence of integrity or the lack of it particularly in the religious life. Integrity is a many-faceted word. Its nuances encompass different but related levels of meaning--from honesty to wholeness of being. But all along this spectrum of meaning runs a single beam that relates them to each other, namely TRUTH. Integrity describes the many aspects of being true. That is why it is a basic virtue. Without it all other seeming virtues are a show and the lack of it makes any manifested virtue suspect. The most basic meaning of the word is "wholeness" or oneness. A religious who is a "whole" is one who has achievi~d a certain harmony in his being, which presupposes a basic self-understanding and self-acceptance. Further-more he has a certain sense of reality and a coherent system of values which form the framework for this authentic self-awareness. Most religious tend to mature intellectually before they do emotionally and morally. There is thus a Integrity in the Religious LiJ~" / certain incongruence and inconsistency in their life. They can give very good lectures, sermons, or write beautiful articles about behaviour, attitudes or vir-tues which can be sadly lacking in their lives. The catching up of one's emotion and one's will with one's insight is a progressive growth in integrity and wholeness. This tendency of the earlier maturation of the intellect may explain the expert way religious.can rationalize actions which deep in their heart they feel guilty about. Laymen can be more honest about their faults than many religious because they don't need to live up to an image. Religious on the other hand have to live up to the imperatives that rule their lives--the imperative to perfection, the imperative to excellence, the imperative to fidelity, the im-perative to unselfishness, the imperative to sacrifice, etc. There is thus a ground for varying degrees of hypocrisy in the religious life ranging from unconscious inconsistency, through semi-conscious in-congruence to alarming schizophrenic tendencies. In this connection, one can look at the crisis of celibacy today as the crisis of integrity. Celibacy can be viewed as the virtue of integrity par excellence. The fact that physical integrity is a sign of virginity is a significant symbol of the main characteristic of celibacy which is personal wholeness. Lived celibacy is not just renunciation but it is at the same time a fulfillment--namely the coming together of heart, mind, body in a singleness of purpose of serving God and being wholly there for others. Any religious who has had a crisis of celibacy must have undergone the literally heart-rending experience of being drawn to two poles--to the demand of the religious life and to the preoccupa-tion with the person with whom one is emotionally involved. Even without indulging in sexual relationships this inner splitting of one's heart threatens one's integrity as a religious. Sooner or later one will reach a critical point which can result in two ways: It can result in a greater wholeness, in a greater integrity due to a conscious re-direction of one's being to one's religious commitment or to a totally new way of life. But it can also lead to disintegration in one who refuses to heal the dichotomy of his heart. At this point all the other forms of lack of integrity will come in--justification, dis-simulation, outright deceit. The more clever the religious the more ingenious the rationalization. The whole of theology can be overhauled to justify the in-fidelity of the human heart, In those who have come to the point of indulging in sexual relationships, the element of passion comes in which blinds them to an almost unbelievable degree. It is not just a matter of moral disintegration that ensues; it can mean a disintegration of pe~sonality. Whole articles can be written about the so-called "third way." Here, only its effect on one's integrity has been discussed. Less dramatic but nevertheless harmful forms of lack of integrity can be found among religious. Where positions of power are held, there certain danger to one's integrity is present. As has already been said, the imperatives of the religious life conditions the failings of religious to be less glaring, less gross, more subtle, more refihed, and consequently more insidious. One can, 361~ / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/3 for example develop a way of manipulating facts to serve one's purposes, it is not a matter of downright deception or lie but a way of leaving out facts or choosing them or presenting just an angle of them in order to get what one wants. One cannot put a finger on any downright falsified item but the whole thing is a lie nevertheless. The manipulation of reality can be so subtle that only the most clever can see through the whole scheme and yet ordinary people have an uneasy feeling about it. A more serious form of this lack of integrity is the manipulation of people. It is bad enough to manipulate facts, it is worse to manipulate people. There are clever persons who can play on the weaknesses and strength of other people to their advantage. When one has a project all wiles will be exerted to manipulate people into it. This can lead to sickening forms of "false sweetness," to borrow from the little girl who transformed the 8th commandment into--"Thou shal( not bear false sweetness against thy neighbor." For a positive treatment of integrity, one has to go back to the basic mean-ing given earlier in the article, namely--wholeness. There is in the religious who has achieved a certain amount of integrity, a certain consistency and con-gruence which gives his personality an identifiable core. This gives him a cer-tain reliability and trustworthiness lacking in "shifty" personalities. One. knows where one stands with him. One is aware of encountering someone who remains what he essentially is in differing circumstances. He is real! This solid ¯ reality of his personality is, moreover, transparent, not made opaque by masks, pretensions, dissimulations, or defenses. He is by this very fact vulnerable, because he does not change color like a chameleon or become elusive like an eel. Therefore his weak points are apparent and open to attack. But even this vulnerability is an asset because it is what makes him at home with all men. The link that binds human beings is most often their capacity to be hurt rather than their invulnerability, their common misery rather than the superiority or achievement which set some apart from others, It is a vulnerability that survives being pierced without falling apart. The process of personality integration is an on-going one. A person who has reached a certain degree of integrity continues to make experiences which are to be integrated into his personality if they are to become meaningful to him. One's integrity when one's world is still relatively simple is qualitatively (not only in degree) different from that which one has achieved after going' through major life experiences. There are experiences that are more easily in-tegrated than others because of their familiarity and relative lack of impor-tance. Utterly new experiences, shattering or overwhelming ones are more dif-ficult to integrate. These can cause crisis situations. A person of integrity however, can undergo the most serious crisis, even one caused by his own failings and therefore incurring real guilt without suffering a personality dis-integration. He somehow arises from the ruins battered but whole. He is able to integrate even these negative experiences into his life making him richer and. even more whole because of the confirmation of the links that unite his per-sonality. Integrity in the Religious Life / 369 This is probably the reason why religious who sense an inner integrity in their being tend to take more risks and are less bound by conventions or legalistic observance of rules. They have a sure instinct for what is right, what is true, what is demanded by a situation, what is false or genuine in people they live with. Because of all these, they enjoy an inner freedom which makes them more creative and innovative in the living of their religious commitment. Reprints from the Review "The Confessions of Religious Women" by Sister M. Denis, S.O.S. (25 cents) "Institutional Business Administration and Religious" by John J. Flanagan, S.J., and James I. O'Connor, S.J. (20 cents) "Authority and Religious Life" by J. M. R. Tillard, O.P. (20 cents) "The Death of Atheism" by Rene H. Chabot, M.S. (20 cents) "The Four Moments of Prayer" by John R. Sheets, S.J. (25 cents) "Instruction on the Renewal of Religious Formation" by the Congreg~ition for Religious (35 cents) "Meditative Descriptiori of the Gospel Counsels" (20 cents) "A Method for Eliminating Method in Prayer" by Herbert Francis Smith, S.J. (25 cents) "Religious Life in the Mystery of the Church" by J. M. R. Tiilard, O.P. (30 cents) "Profile of the Spirit: A Theology of Discernment of Spirits" by John R. Sheets, S.J. (30 cents) "Consciousness Examen" by George A. Aschenbrenner, S.J. (20 cents) "Retirement or Vigil?" by Benedict Ashley, O.P. (25 cents) "Celibacy and Contemplation" by Denis Dennehy, S.J. (20 cents) "The Nature and Value of a Directed Retreat" by Herbert F. Smith, S.J. (20 cents) "The Healing of Memories" by Francis Martin (20 cents) Orders for the above should be sent to: Review for Religious 612 Humboldt Building 539 North Grand Boulevard St. Louis, Missouri 63103 Religious Government: A Reflection On Relationships Sister Doris Gottemoeller, R.S.M. Sister Doris Gottemoeller, R.S.M., whose reflections here have grown out of her experience with the nine provinces of the Sisters of Mercy as well as conversations with members of many other congregations, resides at the Generalate of the Sisters of Mercy; 10000 Kentsdale Drive: P.O.,Box 34446; West Bethesda, Maryland 20034. The renewal of religious life inaugurated by Vatican II required the adaptation of every aspect of that life, both external practices and internal attitudes. One of the most readily observable of these external areas is that of religious government, the network of structures which regulate the interrelationships of members and groups within a community. If the revitalization of communities in the light of Gospel vision and community charism was to occur, the Council saw that it had to be done in the light of the "physical and psychological con-ditions of today's religious," "the needs of the apostolate, the requirements of a given culture, (and) the social and economic conditions everywhere."' More particularly, the Council specified that the way in which communities are governed had to be re-examined in the light of these same standards.~ In order for renewal to truly involve and touch each member of a com-munity, structures had to be altered in order to create channels for each in-dividual voice. Moreover, the spirit of collegiality and subsidiarity which enlivened the Council itself implied the necessity for structures of participative decision-making within other Church groups, such as dioceses, parishes, and religious communities. Before renewal began, role definitions of officials in religious communities (e.g., major superiors, councilors, local superiors) had 'Vatican Council II, Perfectae Caritatis. no. ~. ~lbid. 370 Religious Government." A Reflection on Relationships / 37"1 ¯ provided predictable patterns of decision-making. Furthermore, little revision of rule or policy was required from year to year in an era when lack of change was valued as a sign of strength; constitutions and custom books provided guidelines for every situation, whether of great or trivial importance. With the recognition of the need for on-going adaptation, however, structures had to be altered to provide for on-going participation in the vision-building and direction-setting of a community by every member of that community. Not only was widespread grassroots participation needed for the successful carry-ing out of the special general chapters which inaugurated adaptation, but government plans had to be tailored to allow for continuing involvement in the affairs of the community. At least five years have elapsed since this work began, and some obser-vations can be offered as the fruit of a backwards glance over those years. The remarks which follow can be characterized as insights gleaned from observing the efforts of many communities to re-structure their governments into more responsive and responsible models. They are reflections on the phenomena--not evaluations from a religious or a theological point of view. This work of evaluation is certainly called for, but first we must form a good idea of what is happ.ening before we probe further. The following observations apply to representative bodies, to administrative groups, and to the methods whereby leadership is selected. Representative Bodies The ultimate authority in a religious community has always been vested in its general chapter. Accordingly the efforts to update communities had to begin here in a twofold sense: the chapter itself had to be updated as an instru-ment of leadership and then it, in turn, had the responsibility to inaugurate change in every Other aspect of community life. To this end communities modified their chapters in various ways and, in some cases, supplemented them with other representative groups described variously as assemblies, boards, and congresses. All .of these representative bodies are discussed together here, because certain observations can be made which pertain to all of them. Therefore, in the paragraphs which follow, "chapter" is used to refer to any representative body with responsibility to and for an entire religious in-stitute or a large portion thereof, e.g., a province. I. Most representative bodies have been made truly representative. Great progress has been made here, in the sense that chapters are no longer con-trolled by a preponderance of ex-officio delegates. In most cases the size of the group has been expanded and communities have been diligent in trying to bring together a genuine cross section of the congregation--diversified as to age, apostolic experience, community experience, and geographic location (in instances where a community is widespread). One thing we have learned here, however, is that this effort has its own inherent limitations, in the sense that to specify the configuration of the delegate group too particularly may arbitrarily 372 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/3 limit the freedom of the community members to have the representatives of their choice. In other words, suitable chapter delegates are not always or necessarily found in equal proportions in each geographic region or age group. 2. A distinction between the chapter and other non-legislative representative groups is not always viable in practice. This observation applies to those com-munities which have created an additional representative group to serve in the interim between chapter sessions in an advisory .capacity to the administrative group (major superior and council). The composition of this new group usually overlaps, to a large extent, the chapter membership, so a certain confusion of roles and responsibilities results. As chapter members, while the chapter is in session, the delegates have dominative authority over the affairs of the in-stitute or province. As assembly members, however, the delegates have only a consultative function. However, a crisis of confidence in the leadership of the administrative group would soon develop if they overrode or ignored the con-sidered judgment of the assembly very often. So, in practice, the assembly becomes, effectively, legislative or policy-making. Also, assembly members would soon lose interest in serving in that capacity if the matters submitted to them were not of real significance and/or if their judgments were not adopted and implemented by the administrative group. Therefore, the tendency is for such assemblies to either develop a quasi-legislative function or else to be con-sistently frustrated by the ineffectiveness of their role. The question must be asked, though, how many significant agenda items are t~ere which should receive the attention of a broad-based chapter group? It would seem that on many issues the administrative group would profit more from consultation with a more specialized committee within the community, such as the representatives of one particular area of apostolic service, than from the broad-based consultation which a chapter can provide. 3. The frequency with which the group meets is more significant than whether or not it is defined as legislative. If the group meets frequently (e.g., as often as bi-monthly, or even quarterly), there is a tendency on the part of the ad-ministrative group to submit a comparatively larger number of items to its consideration and to defer action even on relatively noncontroversial issues un-til after consultation with the chapter or assembly. Thus there is the possibility of paralyzing the activity and initiative of the administrative group, or at least of weakening their effectiveness as a leadership group. Major superiors may hesitate to make any personal creative approach to a problem or issue without submitting it to a chapter 'referendum.' In some cases this is by design: the administrative group is conceived of as the executive arm of the chapter which, in a sense, retains ordinary authority in the community. If this is patterned on the federal government's model of separation of powers, it fails to take account of the fact that the executive and legislative arms of the federal government are (ideally!) separate but equal and, furthermore, are counterbalanced by the judicial arm. If it is patterned on the model of the relationship between a board of trustees and administrators Religious Government: A Reflection on Relationships / :373 who are responsible to the board, then it should be noted that trustees or-dinarily entrust a large amount of ordinary authority to their administrators. If the administrators abuse that trust, they are replaced by the trustees, but the latter are not involved in the administration per se of the institution. One ques-tion which a community which adopts this "strong chapter/weak ad-ministrator" model must ask itself is to what extent the chapter members are willing to prepare themselves to consider and to involve themselves in a succes-sion of varied problems and issues. Too frequent meetings also may have the unfortunate effect of discourag-ing otherwise qualified community members from serving as delegates. Once this occurs the moral authority of the chapter is subtly undermined because the community senses that somehow serving as a delegate is not a priority respon-sibility and that the composition of the delegate body does not reflect the 'first choice' of the members of the community. 4. Chapter authority is weakened by confusion over its function. Formerly the understanding of what chapter delegates were to do was quite clear and recognized throughout the community. Ordinarily general chapter meetings coincided with the election of the major superior and other officials, and this task was the primary responsibility of the delegates: In addition to this elective function, the delegates knew they had legislative authority. However, in the pre-Vatican Ii era little change was expected or seemingly desired. Therefore the responsibility for this legislative function did not weigh too heavily on the delegates. Beginning with the special general chapters, however, the whole situation changed, and the legislative aspect assumed great prominence. Chapters vir-tually legislated anew on every aspect of religious life, even to the extent of abrogating their former constitutions almost in toto. Since that time com-munities have been using interim constitutions and chapter decrees in place of their former constitutions. The changes reflected in these documents, of course, could not be effected by simply promulgating them: on-going develop-ment had to take place in order to assist community members, delegates and non-delegates alike, to test out the new vis{on in terms of concrete experience and to internalize that vision in their personal value structures. Quite naturally, chapter delegates thus saw that their responsibility did not end when a chapter session adjourned. They had to communicate the chapter vision to everyone and become agents of on-going renewal. Subsequent chapter sessions then became occasions of further corporate reflection on the values embodied in earlier chapter decrees and led to appropriate modifications, refinements, a shared search for ways to implement ideals, and so forth. Thus the legislative function of chapters shaded into a new one, the renewal function. While this evolution of chapter responsibility is understandable and, from some standpoints, desirable, from another viewpoint an unfortunate blurring of distinctions may occur. That is, all of the pronouncements of the same legislative body tend to carry the same weight. As a result, chapter enactments 374 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/3 may appear to regress to the minutiae of an earlier era, and hence invite dis-regard, or they may all appear to be merely exhortatory without the benefit of stress or emphasis. If the authority of the chapter becomes weakened in the general estimate by too frequent pronouncements, there will be no authoritative voice left in a community to make a really solemn or effective point when it is called for. Perhaps this is an argument for less frequent chapter meetings, preceded by extensive reflection and development of issues within the community. The renewal function, then, would remain primarily the responsibility of the ad-ministrative group and such other community members and committees as they invite to share their responsibility, while the deliberative and legislative function--the ultimate direction setting--would remain the primary emphasis of the chapter itself. Administrative Groups The day-to-day administration of religious communities as well as or-dinary authority between chapter sessions is entrusted to a major superior and councilors and staff persons who collaborate with them. Just as with represen-tative bodies, there have been a variety of new approaches to maximizing the effective service of~.administrative groups. 1. "Teamwork" is seen as an ideal for administrative groups. Scarcely a group could be found today which would not lay claim to functioning as a "'team," but the connotations of this term are sometimes elusive. The use of it probably reflects an effort to escape from a hierarchical arrangement within the administrative group in which distinctions of rank and authority were strictly maintained, or from a rigid system of role descriptions within the council which tended to discourage creativity and initiative among the members and to stifle leadership in all but the major superior. To state what a team is not, however, is not the same as filling the concept with positive mean-ing. The chief characteristic of a team relationship is probably the high degree of communication and interaction among its members. Team organization is not incompatible with differentiation of tasks and authority among the members--after all, there is only one captain of a football team, and everyone plays a different position on it. (There are even offensive players as well as defensive ones, althgugh one would not like to push the analogy this far!) A team does imply a common goal for the members' efforts, however, and a genuinely concerted effort to reach it. There can be a distribution of authority on a team, and there certainly should be a flexibility in approach, a willingness to capitalize on one another's strengths and to compensate for one another's weaknesses, and a relative freedom to revise the "game plan" or to strategize as play progresses. A few communities have organized their administrative groups in such a way that two or more persons have co-equal responsibility. For example, there Religious Government: A Reflection on Relationships / 37~i may be three co-provincials who have different spheres of responsibility (such as religious formation, apostolic placement, finances, etc.), but seemingly equal accountability for the affairs of the total province. At least one com-munity reported that they found this to be an ineffective and inefficient arrangement because~f the lack of dynamism and leadership which resulted. Another effect of dividing the decisions to be made into approximately equal shares might be that the "co-provincials" tend to make decisions in isolation from one another without reference to the fact that these decisions ought to flow from an integrated vision of what the community is and is about. On the other hand, if "co-provincials" are all equally involved in every decision, the community's expectation will be that all will be equally knowledgeable about every area of responsibility--which would be a wasteful use of time and effort in some cases. These difficulties highlight the importance of studying the decision-making functions of the administrative group in order to provide, insofar as it can be anticipated, for participation which is proportionate to the centrality and im- 'portance of the issue. Formerly, constitutions took care of this by enumerating those matters which required a deliberative vote of the council and those for which only a consultative vote was required. The fact that administrative teams function in a more collegial and less formal style today should not obscure the insight that different matters require varying amounts of delibera-tion and ~consultation. 2. Administrative responsibility is increasingly shared with staff persons. This phenomenon results from the newly-emphasized distinction between charismatic and administrative leadership, as well as from an increasingly specialized and professional approach to traditional areas of administrative responsibility, such as finances, communications and record-keeping, per-sonnel services, and the management of apostolic institutions. Major superiors and their councils are seen primarily as 'in-spirators' and 'enablers' of religious community life--a role which is distinguished from the more management-oriented phase of their responsibility. It is further recognized that such tasks as financial management and personnel services require specialized preparation which is not always had by those whom the community wishes to elect to office. Also, these specialized tasks are often done better when a continuity of responsibility is maintained, and the tenure of such per-sons as the treasurer is not tied into an elected term of office. While in principle such distinctions can be made, there are also certain dif-ficulties which have been evidenced. First of all, the distinction between "charismatic" and "administrative" leadership cannot be exclusively main-tained: a religious leader who did not have a firm and sympathetic under-standing of the realities of the community's existence in every facet of its life would not be able to give credible inspiration to anyone. The leader's respon-sibility is to-cultivate an integrated vision of every aspect of community life in order to be able to challenge the members to further generosity in their 376 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/3 religious and apostolic life. Therefore the superior and council must collaborate closely with any staff persons in order to keep abreast of what they are learning about the community and also to help determine the priorities of the staff and to set the overall direction of their work. Another difficulty is apparent when the staff has insufficient authority to be effective. Community members must respect the expertise, community dedication, and delegated authority of the staff in order for their collaboration with the administrative group to really benefit all concerned. There are infor-mal as well as formal ways for the administrative group to i'einforce the staff's authority and responsibility in the community's eyes. For example, if a staff person has been designated to respond to a certain type of regularly-recurring request, the councilor should usually refuse to deal with such a request unless it can be shown that the staff person failed to give satisfactory service. Community members themselves sometimes create problems by requiring leaders to hold in confidence information which effects a staff member's role performance. Then the councilor is forced to intervene in the staff person's area of responsibility and to give a seemingly arbitrary direction, thus cir-cumventing the whole process. Councilors must be wary of allowing such situations to occur very often if they wish to have the assistance of a credible and effective staff. The relationship between the administrative group and the staff brings into focus the question of how large each group should be. This is probably a more relevant question than one which is more frequently'heard, "How many full-time persons are r(quired for community leadership?" In a day of declining membership and ever-pressing apostolic demands, releasing talented members for full-time community leadership often seems like a luxury which a com-munity cannot afford. But if more attention is given to a proper balance of elected leaders (full or part-time) and a supportive staff (full or part-time, lay or religious), new possibilities for maximizing leadership potential can be en-visioned. Obviously this answer varies from community to community, depend-ing on such factors as size, geographic expanse, diversity of apostolates, and the willingness and/or ability of council members to perform staff functions. Choice of Leadership No attempt will be made here to discuss varying and even inconsistent ex-pectations of leadership, although how to deal with that reality is a challenging question that applies both to representative bodies and to administrative groups. As noted above, community members expect chapter delegates~to be e.lectors, legislators, and (sometimes) renewal facilitators. They also expect major superiors and their councilors to furnish both charismatic and managerial leadership, in varying proportions. These areas of ambiguity do furnish a backdrop, however, for some remarks about the ways in which leaders have been chosen in recent years, a period in which there has been ceaseless experimentation with differing methods. In fact, most chapters spend Religious Government: A Reflection on Relationships / 377 more time determining the method by which they will choose their leaders than they do in carrying out the proce.ss itself. In general, four methods can be identified: choice by discernment, election by the chapter, election by the total community, and a nominated-appointed method. 1. Discernment. This method is difficult to define because its interpretation and application vary in different situations. In brief, though, it is a method whereby the electors reach a prayerful consensus about their choice of leadership. It is an application of the spirituality of discernment--the prayer-ful and communal effort to discover and respond to God's will for a group--to the specific matter of selection of leadership. Its proponents usually contrast it to an election which is considered to be mechanical or political or insufficiently attuned to God's will for the community. Since the effectiveness of the method is dependent on khe development of faith community within the group, its usefulness is qualified if the electors represent a very large or wide-spread community, and do not ordinarily see one another except on the occasion of a chapter meeting. In some cases the discernment process has involved not the chapter delegates, but the nominees themselves. In other words, after a process of nomination (in which the entire community has both active and passive voice), those nominees who decide, after personal discernment, that they would be open to being called to community leadership enter into a process of com-munal discernment. Great objection can be raised to this practice, however, since it arbitrarily restricts active voice in the election to only the nominees. Religious constitutions have traditionally specified very exactly who enjoys the right to elect the major superiors, namely, the chapter delegates. To create a situation in which there are no electors except the nominees themselves--some of whom may have received only a single nominating vote while others may have received hundreds--runs contrary to this whole tradition. There must be many qualified electors in a community who are not themselves potential can-didates for the office of major superior. 2. Election by the Chapter. This is the traditional method for selection of leadership, but the manner in which this process is carried out within the chapter admits of many variations. For example, communities have ex-perimented with nominating procedures which involve the entire community and/or with search committees who are charged with developing a list of nominees. Within the chapter itself great efforts are made to allow candidates to discuss their views and their vision of the future direction of the community in an open forum before the election takes place. The election of major superiors, since it is one of the gravest respon-sibilities of a chapter, should be carried out in a prayerful context (as should "all of the deliberations of a chapter). The chapter body should strive together to search out the best-qualified persons to call to leadership in the light of the religious and apostolic goals of the community. Prayers for divine guidance, for freedom from prejudice and error, and for generosity in responding to God's will should all surround the election. If this is the case, then the sup- 371~ / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/3 posed contrast between the discernment method and the election method seems to fade in significance. Furthermore, election by the chapter seems to be the only one which readily safeguards the traditional requirements of a valid election, namely, that the votes be free, secret, certain, absolute, and determinate.3 Even a total community election (to be dealt with below) risks compromising these con-ditions. Some would argue that these requirements should no longer apply and that, for example, the community would be better served if ballots were not secret. While at first glance this may seem to represent a growth in the level of mutual trust and evidence a breakthrough in communications within a com-munity, further reflection might lead to an enhanced appreciation of those traditional safeguards which the Church has provided in canon law. Any com-munity which forswears the use of "free, secret, certain, absolute, and deter-minate" ballots should understand full well what it is sacrificing and be con-vinced that a proportionate good will be achieved. 3. Election by the Total Com~munity. It is doubtful whether this method cduid be successfully applied in any but a very small community where all of the members can be present at an election or where the ballots can be collected within a short period of time. Those who advocate a direct popular election probably reflect a lack of confidence in their chapter, a serious problem which should be dealt with in itself since it affects more than the elections. If the chapter is truly representative, however, and the community has confidence in its responsible leadership, then the desire for a community-wide election would seem negligible. 4. Nomination-Appointment. In this method a higher administrative group appoints major superiors from a list of nominees prepared by the constituency. For example, a province (or provincial chapter) may submit a list of nominees to the administrator general and council who then appoint the provincial superiors. Or the provincial administrative group may appoint regional superiors from among nominees presented to them. The alleged advantage of this method is that the higher superior is able to look over the list of nominees and appoint an administrative team with complementary talents, a result which isn't always obtained in a direct election by the appropriate chapter. This method also reflects the authority and responsibility of the higher ad-ministrative group with respect to the smaller units of the community. The method is compromised, however, if the higher superior feels insuf-ficiently informed about the qualifications of the nominees, or is unable to en-dorse any of them with enthusiasm, or does not feel genuinely free to choose from among them. This last condition might apply, for example, if the list of nominees and the total number of votes each received is published to the com-munity at large. Then there is a subtle expectation that the major superior will 3Canon 169. For a discussion of these requirements, see Canon Law for Religious Women by Louis G. Fanfani, O.P., and Kevin D. O'Rourke, O.P. (Dubuque, Iowa: The Priory Press, 1961), pp. 91-93. Religious Government: A Reflection on Relationships / 379 automatically appoint the nominee ~with the highest number of votes, and the appointment becomes only the ratification of a fair accompli. Concluding Remarks Many other aspects of religious government today could be singled out for observation and study. Some of these which come to mind are the utilization of different kinds of balloting in elections (e.g., preferential ballots and weighted ballots), the respective advantages of staggered terms of office and concurrent terms, the participation of ancillary groups such as committees and commissions in the governing process, and the ways in which different units of government discharge their responsibilities (e.g., how they develop their agen-das and how they formulate and communicate policies). Moreover, in addition to the simple observation of phenomena and trends there is a need to evaluate them in the light of assumptions and principles which are acknowledged by the religious community. These espoused beliefs are of many kinds: political, sociological, philosophical, and theological, to name four important areas. This is not the place to develop a list of represen-tative assumptions and, indeed, the renewal process in communities may not have progressed far enough yet for them to be able to articulate these cor-porately. However, any in depth critique of government should deal with questions such as the nature of human persons, the role of law and structure in human life and associations, how government structures can reflect the emphasis of Vatican II on collegiality, subsidiarity,, and shared decision-making, and on the Gospel challenge to be poor, chaste, and obedient in a world which values none of these. Religious government is the point at which a religious community comes together to organize for its collective mission. Those who occupy leadership positions perform a temporary service for the others in order to facilitate that mission. Many relationships should be facilitated by a government structure: relationships of communication, of consultation, of decision-making; relationships between and among community members, community leadership, lay collaborators, Church, and world. The ideal plan of religious government is simple, clear, adapted to contemporary needs, and flexible. The government should be the point of integration of all the concerns of a com-munity, internal and external, and it exists in order to enable the community to better respond to those concerns. There is abundant evidence today that religious communities have in fact grasped the importance of adapting their government structures to these insights and that many of the changes made, and the inevitable trials-and-errors, have brought them closer to that goal. A Note on Religious Poverty J. Robert Hilbert, S.J. Father J. Robert Hilbert is presently assigned to St. Francis Mission; St. Francis, SD 57572 Introduction In many discussions of religious life, it has struck me that, of the three vows, poverty is the most difficult to come to grips with. One is tempted often enough to suspect that the fundamental problem is an unwillingness to take the direct approach of simply being poor. On the other hand, that might be a simplistic move prompted by the desire to escape the discomfort of the in-evitable tension involved in being in the world, but not of the world. There is a fundamental dilemma: poverty is either a good or it is an evil. If it is a good, if it is true that "Happy are you poor," that it really is harder for a rich man than for a poor one to enter the kingdom, then it makes sense for one to himself choose poverty and to counsel others to choose it, but it does not make sense to dedicate one's energies to the elimination of poverty. On the other hand, if poverty is evil, if it hinders man's ability to know, love and serve God, if it is destructive of the human spirit, then certainly it makes sense to work to overcome poverty, but it does not make sense to choose poverty, es-pecially to make it the object of a vow by which one expresses devotion to God. One can say that the Christian concern is not with poverty and wealth as economic or sociological realities, but is rather with poverty of spirit, a spirit which acknowledges man's basic helplessness and dependence on God, which sees man's good as a spiritual good in reference to which material possessions are either indifferent or are subservient as a means. A man who is materially wealthy may have this poverty of spirit in terms of real humility and detach-ment from his possessions, and a man materially poor may have the opposite of this spirit in terms of pride and greed. Yet one does have somehow to deal with the fact that the Gospels present Christ as saying that it is morally im-possible for a rich man to enter the kingdom, that the beatitudes, at least in 380 A Note on Religious Poverty Luke, seem to be talking about the poor and the rich in a sense that includes the material. in considering the sense of Christ's--and the Church's--call to preach the Good News to the poor, one might say of it that it is an assertion to those who are generally looked down on or who experience pain and need and helplessness that they are important to God and are loved by Him. Not that those who experience comfort, and social and mental and physical well-being are not loved, but that they are more apt to know it and so have less need of assurance than do the sufferers. Poverty in this context, one might then say, is not an economic term, but just a generi~ term for those who are needy in any way. Surely Dives is as poor and needy in a spiritual sense as Lazarus? So it is to him perhaps even more than to Lazarus that we are sent to bring the Good News. One hears arguments, too, on the point that Christ did not urge structural social change, much less work for it. Though he responded to physical needs of people on occasion, as when he fed the multitudes or healed the sick, he did not attempt the elimination of poverty or the overthrow of Roman domination any more than he attempted the elimination ~f disease or of earthquakes. Ob-viously he commanded love of neighbor and a practical expression of that love in feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, etc., but he did not preach economic or political structural reform. What manner of reflection, then, led the bishops in their 1971 Synod to say that "action on behalf of justice and participation in the transformation of the world fully appear to us as a constitutive dimension of the preaching of the Gospel, or, in other words, of the Church's mission for the redemption of the human race and its liberation from every oppressive situation?''1 (Is there a possibility that our Lord received his death sentence because his teaching and activity constituted a threat to the established social order?) This note is not an attempt to offer solutions to the difficulties and am-biguities of religious poverty, nor is it intended to touch all the elements in-volved. It is simply aimed at emphasizing a few points that seem to me to be often missed or slighted. Before taking up those, however, it might be worth recalling a few presuppositions on which these reflections are based. The Church's Poverty and Religious Poverty One is that a religious community is a community within the Church. Its way of life, its values and ideals are those of the Church. It gives particular ex-pression to certain values in a way different from the way in which other groups in the Church do, but these values are those of the whole Christian peo-ple. Religious life is to give evidence of, to point to, to make sharply visible certain aspects of what it is to be a Christian. There must, then, be continuity in the sense of poverty of religious life and the sense in which the Church speaks of its poverty. This sense, of course, comes to the Church through the ~Synod of Bishops, Justice in the World (U.S.C.C., Washington, D.C., 1972.) p. 34. 382 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/3 example and teaching of Christ. "Just as Christ carried out the work of redemption in poverty and under oppression, so the Church is called to follow the same path in communicating to men the fruits of salvation. Christ Jesus, 'though He was by nature God . . . emptied himself, taking the nature of a slave' (Phil 2:6), and 'being rich, he became poor' (2 Cor 8:9) for our sakes. Thus, although the Church needs human resources to carry out her mission, she is not set up to seek earthly glory, but to proclaim humility and self-sacrifice, even by her own example.''~ The Tradition of Religious Poverty Another assumption is that a religious community is both an inheritor of tradition and an interpreter of that tradition in terms of the present day. There is a long history of the practice of poverty in religious life. In the course of generations, we have developed a complex of values in the matter of poverty, including the following: detachment from material wealth; sparingness and simplicity in use of material things; possession of things in common; a life of labor; dependence on providence; hospitality; service of the poor. To some extent there is an'absoluteness in these values, aspects of them which are true in general for all men and all times. Even were there a time when the world had no drastic contrast between the rich and powerful and the poor and helpless, men would need reminders that the good life is not found in having things. "You have made all these things, made them very good indeed, yet You are my good, not they," It will always be true, as non-Christian cultures, too, realize, that man comes before God in nakedness and emp-tiness- not with reliance on possessions, nor on education, skills, achievements, nor even with security in good works as giving him in any way a claim on God; he comes to God with awareness of his own nothingness, and of God's infinite and personal love. Response to Particular Periods or Societies Beyond such timeless elements, howe, ver, values involved in religious poverty and modes of expression of that poverty are related to the contem-porary social situation of any given period. Modes of expression of religious poverty differ among various orders and in various times and places in part because religious poverty is an affirmation of values endangered by a particular period or society. !t is a prophetic witness directed to the needs of the time and place. Benedict, Francis and Ignatius had initially very different modes of poverty in their orders, not because they had different views of the fundamental and timeless values expressed in poverty, but because they were responding to the needs of the Church in different histo.rical periods. In considering renewal of religious poverty for our times and situation, ~Vatican 1 I, Dogmatic Constitution on the Church,//8. (Documents of Vatican 11. America Press, 1966, p. 23.) A Note on Religious Poverty / 383 then, it is not enough to accept the externals of the expression of poverty ac-cording to the traditions of a religious order; one must consider the values and attitudes involved, both the religious values affirmed and the worldly values opposed. Let us put this another way. Christ'.s life of poverty, it has been said, was "characterized by a redemptive use of things.''3 This is not simply an accept-ance of an ideal order of creation; it is also a recognition that there is sin-fulness embodied in the present concrete order, a non-redemptive use of things, which must be counteracted. The non-redemptive use, the sinful use, of God's creation is evil not only because it is an undue or distorted valuing of things (St. Paul speaks of "greed, which is idolatry"), but because it leads men to degrade, exploit and treat unjustly their fellow men. Poverty Is Apostolic Another presupposition is that the poverty of a religious order is not an end in itself. It is ordained to man's redemption, to the development of the Kingdom of God. Hence, there will be variation in the poverty of different g~roups according to the nature of their apostolate. Yet this subordination must not obscure the fact that poverty is really meant and is deliberately chosen. Religious poverty is not a mode of life that is in total equilibrium; it is not a way of life characterized by use of God's creation in what might be the way one would hold up as the ideal for all men in the ultimately just world order. Religious poverty is a deliberate move to the side of the poor and oppressed, an affirmation of intended identification with them. It is this because in Christ God has identified himself with them. Furthermore, religious poverty is a mode of apostolate. A religious may recognize that there are many ways of working for the attainment of man's red, emption. In the spirit of the Kingdom and Two Standards of the Spiritual Exercises of Ignatius, however, he chooses to work from a position of poverty and humiliations. This is not a completely rational approach to the improve-ment of the human situation. There is a mystery in God's mode of salvation in Christ--through poverty, humiliation, injustice, eventually an unjust death on the cross. Unless there is an acceptance in faith of that mystery as still operative, there can be no full acceptance of religious poverty. l have stated four points that seem to me to enter in to reflection on religious poverty: that religious poverty is to give clear evidence to the Church's sense of poverty; that it involves a sense of the tradition of poverty throughout history; that there must be a re-statement of the spirit and tradi-tion of religious poverty in light of the sociological and cultural situation of the present day; that religious poverty is apostolic, "as Christ carried out the work of redemption in poverty and under .oppression." As I consider these points and my experience of religious life, it seems to aJohn R. Sheets, S.J., Toward a Theology of the Religious Life. (Studies in the Spirituality of Jesuits, II1,8; Nov., 1971, p. 173.) 384. / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/3 me that three areas which demand much and serious reflection in efforts at renewal are: that religious poverty must be in fundamental, radical opposition to the spirit of our affluent society, and must, then, require fundamental, radical personal conversion on the part of a religious; that contemporary con-sciousness of social injustice is integral and essential to the meaning of religious poverty and its expression in our day; that being concerned for the poor and being poor are not quite the same thing. Religious Poverty in an Affluent Society In referring to our affluent culture, what I am trying to suggest is that simply having things, being relatively wealthy in comparison to the major por-tion of the world's population is not an accidental adjunct to what we are as a people. Our material affluence is rooted in and has sprung from some of the most basic attitudes and values of our culture. In turn, our affluence reinforces and influences the development of these attitudes and values. Surrendering the right to personal ownership, professing a dependence on a superior or a com-munity for material things, even choosing a standard of economic life which eliminates certain superfluities and luxuries, does not signify or produce a very deep-rooted or wide-ranging change in the attitudes and values we have ab-sorbed since birth. It seems to me that this is the fundamental reason why it is so hard for us to come to any clear and satisfactory consensus about the meaning of religious--or Christian--poverty. So long as we consider the matter on the basis of the attitudes and values which are our cultural inheritance, there is no way we can conclude that real poverty is something which can be chosen and prized, for that culture is in diametric opposition to a spirit of poverty. In a brief article such as this, there is not scope for a full discussion of the American value system. What we are as a people, though, can be learned by reflection on our history. It was not an aberration of a few twisted individtials that brought about the centuries of enslavement of millions of Africans and In-dians. The greed, violence, lust for power, unquestioning assumption of superiority that underlay the centuries of European exploration, conquest, dominance and exploitation were not just occasional faults of isolated in-dividuals. They were part of the fundamental value system of an entire culture. Though we now repudiate some of the cruder manifestations, the same values and spirit are still endemic in Western culture, and have been incar~ nated in the social structures that our culture has established. It is not acci-dent, but basic cultural drive that has developed in this, the wealthiest country in the world, an economic and political structure which "virtually guarantees poverty for millions of Americans.''4 The greed, selfishness and exploitation of the colonial period have borne fruit, through the period of the industrial revolution and the growth of the multi-national corporations, in a world 4Poverty Amid Plenty, the report of the President's commission on income maintenance programs, 1969, p. 23. A Note on Religious Poverty / 385 economy which has created an enormous and ever increasing division between rich and poor, which threatens the human race because of the destruction of the earth's environment and resources. So the world is not one. Its peoples are more divided now, and also more conscious of their divisions, than they have ever been. They are divided between those who are satiated and those who are hungry. They a~e divided between those with power and those without power. They are divided between those who dominate and those who are dominated; between those who exploit and those who are exploited. And it is the minority which is well fed, and the minority which has secured control over the world's wealth and over their fellow men. Further, in general that minority is distinguished by the colour of their skins and by their race. And the nations in which most of that minority of the world's people live have a further distinguishing characteristic--their adoption of the Christian religion.5 What is significant is not only the fact of such division, but also our general ability to ignore that fact. How is it, after 80 years of modern social teaching and two thousand years of the Gospel of love, that the Church has to admit her inability to make more impact upon the con-science of her people?. It was stressed again and again that the faithful, particularly the more wealthy and comfortable among them, simply do not see structural social in-justice as a sin, simply feel no personal responsibility for it and simply feel no obligation to do anything about it. Sunday observance, the Church's rules on sex and marriage, tend to enter the Catholic consciousness profoundly as sin. To live like Dives with Lazarus at the gate is not even perceived as sinful.6 A concern for religious poverty which attends only to the externals of per-sonal or community economy is inadequate. If we continue to fit comfortably within the systematized greed, selfishness, cruelty, love of power of our society, we have no poverty of spirit. If we are ourselves to become Christian and to bring the Christian word to our society, we must attain an empathy with the poor and powerless in our own country and in the world. We have to feel the poverty of the migrants who harvest the food that is so plentiful on our tables. We have to know our society as it is experienced by an unemployed In-dian who sees his children growing up undernourished, falsely educated, and culturally destroyed in a country where his grandfathers lived in freedom and plenty. But once again, we have to become aware of and critical of our own ac-culturation. We must ourselves engage in that continuing education described by the bishops, an education which comes "through action, participation and vital contact with the reality of injustice." We must awaken in ourselves "a critical sense, which will lead us to reflect on the society in which we live and its values," and be "ready to renounce these values when they cease to promote justice for all men.''7 This examination will include not only our 5Julius Nyerere, Speech to the Maryknoll Sisters (Maryknoll Overseas Extension Service, Maryknoll, N.Y., p. 6). 6From an account of the debate at the 1971 Bishops' Synod, quoted in Henriot, "The Concept of Social Sin," Sourcebook on Poverty, Development and Justice, Campaign for Human Develop-ment (U.S.C.C., Wash., D.C., 1973, p. 67). 7Synod, op. cit., p. 46. 386 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/3 private lives, but the values incorporated in the institutions in which we work. It is necessary, for instance, to examine the basis of our judgment of produc-tivity and efficiency, our decisions about choice of means. Do we give due ac-count to the idea that we are called to follow the path of carrying out the work of redemption "in poverty and under oppression?" Abject poverty, we are told over and over again, is destructive of the human spirit, is an evil which must be eradicated, cannot be the object of a choice, certainly not of a vow, because it is an evil. True enough. But is it possible that our sense of how evil it is is to some extent a reflection of how good we think wealth is? Does our reflection on Christ's statement that it is a moral impossibility for a rich man to enter the kingdom suggest to us that perhaps wealth, too, is destructive of the human spirit, is an evil which must be eradicated? There are many ways in which the full acceptance and real valuing of religious poverty demand not simply a spirit of occasional.self-denial, but a very radical transformation of the basic values inculcated in us from birth within our society, values involved in our attitudes towards material creation, toward the meaning of human life, toward our country's position in world relationships. Addressing Social Injustice Earlier in this article 1 said that contemporary consciousness of social in-justice seems integral to our understanding of religious poverty. To some ex-tent l have introduced this idea in discussing the matter of a critical examina-tion of our values, but let me focus more directly on this point. Poverty has always been an essential of religious life--but its motivation and expression have been modified by the needs of the times. The sinful ab-surdity of the economic situation of our times is not in the fact that there are people who are poor, but in the division described by Nyerere, in the fact that the enormous and unprecedented technological, economic and political power of our times is ordered not to alleviating the plight of the poor majority of men, but to the perpetuation and increase of the imbalance of that division. The bishops recognize this situation as a claim on the Church's expression of poverty. Although in general it is difficult to draw a line between what is needed for right use and what is demanded by prophetic witness, we must certainly keep firmly to this principle: our faith demands of us a certain sparingness in use, and the Church is obliged to ad-minister its own goods in such a way that the (~ospel is proclaimed to the poor . In societies enjoying a higher level of consumer spending, it must be asked whether our life style exemplifies that sparingness with regard to consumption which we preach to others as necessary in order that so many millions of hungry people throughout the world be fed.8 8Ibid., p. 45. A Note on Religious Poverty / 387 What is that sparingness? In general, at least, "those who are already rich are bound to accept a less material ~way of life, with less waste, in order to avoid the destruction of the heritage which they are obliged by absolute justice to share with all other members of the human race.''9 Many cautions are given in discussions of religious poverty to the effect that it should not be confused with economic poverty, that religious poverty in its expression is relative to the milieu in which the community lives and works, that religious poverty is distinct from the claims of justice. Such distinctions, however, can be overdrawn to the extent that religious poverty is moved to an abstraction that has little in common with the poverty of Christ. His Kenosis was accomplished in concrete terms of real identification with the poor and ac-tual confrontation with the powerful of his times. When he said, "Happy are you who are poor," and "Alas for you who are rich," one has the impression that he was not abstracting from the economic situation. More fundamentally, Fr. Arrupe's statement deserves serious con-sideration: But God is not only the God of the poor. He is, in a real sense, God who is poor. For the mystery of the Incarnation has established a special relationship between God and pover-ty whose meaning goes much deeper than mere compassion . God is allpowerful. God has riches beyond our ability to estimate. But he is also a God of justice, who demands that justice be done. l f, then, God, allpowerful and infinitely rich, identifies Himself with the poor, it must be because the cause of the poor is somehow identified with the cause of justice?° Sparingness, for example, is fundamental to religious poverty in part as an example to all men that possessions and use of luxuries are not all that essen-tial to the quality of human life--may, in fact, hinder a man in his real development. Today there is clearly added to this motivation in the Church's consciousness the demand of some sparingness in order that justice be served. It is clear, too, that this demand goes beyond the matter of purely personal or domestic religious life to take in as well the means used in our apostolic works. If there is a demand that our society's use of energy, for example, be reduced, that reduction is called for in all aspects of our life and work. It seems to me, in short, that a level of example and witness in this regard is integral to a realistic understanding of the contemporary value of religious poverty--a poverty that is true to the Church's sense of her call to poverty, a poverty characterized by a redemptive use of things, a use redemptive of the actual sinful use of things in our day. Identification with the Sociologically Poor The Church, following the example of Christ, recognizes a particular call to showing concern for the poor and the oppressed. This call is felt with special 91bid., p. 51. 1°Pedro Arrupe, S.J., Witnessing to Justice (Pontifical Commission, Justice and Peace, Vatican, 1972), p. 38. 3~11~ / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/3 emphasis by religious, as the history of their efforts on behalf of the poor attests. The kind of assistance that is called for will vary in different periods and with different orders. In our times, there is particularly the note of concern that the structures which perpetuate and increase the division between rich and poor be changed. Even within the wealthiest country in the world, change of structures is necessary for the alleviation of widespread poverty: The paradox of poverty in the midst of plenty causes many to ask why some people re-main poor when so many of their fellow Americans have successfully joined the ranks of the affluent . It is often argued that the I~oor are to blame for their own circumstances and should be expected to lift themselves from poverty. This commission has concluded that these assertions are incorrect. Our economic and social structures virtually guarantee poverty for millions of Americans.1~ The call to concern for the poor and for working for structural changes that will ensure justice for the poor is a call to all Christians. For us who profess religious poverty, it is not only a call to have such concern and to work for such change, but to share Christ's identification with the poor. Discer.n-ment is necessary, harmfully simplistic approaches should be avoided--yet our life and mode of work should be such that our being accounted among the poor is clear. Whatever may be said of the relative norm of poverty with reference to the milieu in which a community lives and works, it should be clear that they are poor in that relative way. If it is a question for all Christians "whether belong-ing to the Church places people on a rich island within an ambient of pover-ty,''~ 2 it is preeminently a question for religious. We should share what we have, and it seems good, sometimes, that we do have in order to share. But we should be present to the poor as willing to share what little we have, not as well-to-do philanthropists sharing their excess. There is a lesson for us, though we might not wish to carry it to that extreme, in the example of St. Francis's unwillingness even to accept alms to be dis-tributed to the poor. There is, moreover, the very practical fact that it is most unlikely that we will appreciate the meaning of being truly poor, or be able really to see our society and its structures from the standpoint of the poor, if we ourselves do not in some real way share their experience. It is evident enough in our rec-tories and convents and schools that most of us share pretty completely the values and attitudes and experience and even prejudices of the affluent, not of the poor. It seems pertinent at this point to introduce a quotation from St. Ignatius Loyola which perhaps returns to the statement of my opening paragraph: ~tPoverty Amid Plenty, loc. cir. 12Synod, op. cit., p. 45. A Note on Religious Poverty Let me just say this; whoever loves poverty should be glad to be poor; glad to go hungry, to be badly clothed, to lie on a hard bed. For if someone loves poverty but avoids penury, following poverty only from afar, is that not to be comfortably poor? Surely that is to love the reputation rather than the reality of poverty; to love poverty in word but not in deed.t3 As 1 conclude this article, my sense of futility returns. If some of the honestly poor people of my acquaintance--in the slums of Milwaukee, in Belize, on the Sioux reservation where I now live--were ever to run into the sort of discussion I have written here, 1 suspect they would not find it so much the word of Christ as the confusion of one who is far from Him. 1 think it might cause some amusement, if not amazement, that a man with so much education and so many years of meditation on the Gospel can make such a complicated business out of the relatively simple question of how he can be poor. But this is written by one who lives in material security, even affluence, for others who live similarly, and so must inevitably reflect the confusion of those bound in that mesh. May that which is impossible to men, that which our own mental gyrations and personal anguish can never bring about, be accomplished by Him who can save; may He relieve us of the burden and constriction of our wealth, pull us through the eye of the needle, and introduce us to the simplicity and freedom of His Kingdom. t3Monumenta Ignatiana, Epp. l, 577. Mortification Brother Thomas E. Ruhf, C.P. Bro. Thomas E. Ruhf is.presently engaged in studies for the priesthood at St. John's University, where he was awarded a Master's Degree in Theology last year. He is a member of the Passionist Monastery; 178th St. and Wexford Terrace; Jamaica, NY 11432. The word "mortification" is seldom if ever heard these days, and, when it is, it strikes a strange and sour note because of its seeming lack of harmony with contemporary man's view of himself and his world. In a society ruled by the lords of consumerism, progressivism and utopianism, the concept of mor-tification is most assuredly an outcast. Mortification is viewed as no less than a perversion of life, since life's goal is seen to be the pursuit of happiness and self-fulfillment, which is attained in extracting from life all its treasures of pleasure and burying as much as possible its pains and sorrows. The mul-tiplication of wonders in science and technology is heralding the dawn of a new age when there will be plenty of pleasures and possessions for all, when disease and pains will be laid to rest forever, and when even death may fall victim to the march of man. To speak of death, suffering or any human limitation is to talk of problems to be solved and not perennial conditions to be fa~ed. Such a society has no use for mortification precisely because it is a radical, concrete and complete affirmation of these realities, precisely because it af-firms them as enduring conditions to be faced and embraced for their creative potentials. The problem with mortification is a problem with suffering and death, with their proper place in a full and authentic human existence. In spite of society's claims of present and future scientific and technological conquests, death, suffering and human limitations remain ever so real. Daily the media parades before our eyes the ~pectr'e.of human suf-fering- innocent children with bellies pregnant with starvation, the disfigured and bloodied corpses of victims of senseless terrorism and calculated wars, the 390 . Mortification / 39'1 sad streams of people with lives and homes ruined by the fury of natural dis-asters. At the same time the tales of polluted water and air, of shortages of oil and energy, of inflation and recession are bursting the bubble of the great American myth of the cornucopia of unending resources and limitless produc-tion. Yet modern society continues its masquerade of denial. This denial of the hard and enduring facts of death, suffering and human limitation is not without its costs, for modern man has fallen victim to a certain sense of cultural schizophrenia. It seems that the greater the claims made for man's omniscence and omnipotence, for his control over nature and life in the face of his obvious lack of it, the greater becomes his sense of personal impotence, of being victimized and fated by the forces of nature and life. As society as a whole becomes more integrated, mechanized and systematized, he as an in-dividual becomes more isolated, alienated and categorized. Sodiety's attempt to do away with all external forms of suffering and pain only serves to intensify and foster his internal suffering and pain. A Contemporary Understanding of the Problem of Suffering and Death If any concept of mortification is to be valid today, it must seek its basis in the new heightened awareness of pain and suffering not only as external world realities but also as internal personal realities. It must find its roots in a con-temporary understanding of suffering and death. Perhaps the most meaningful concept of suffering and death for today's world is the existentialist view. In such a view man is seen primarily as a being-unto- death. His very suffering and limitation become movements in con-sciousness toward the final limit of death, which brings man face to face with the fundamental questionableness of his own being without offering him any answer to it. This ultimate questionableness of life is faced by each man alone. Death represents the ultimate loneliness. All suffering, in being mine alone to bear, is essentially an experience of loneliness foreshadowing the ultimate Ioneliriess of death. Thus suffering and death give a character of existential loneliness to all life, a realization that no other finite reality can solve the basic questionableness involved in the finitude of my existence, that no finite reality can satisfy my radical desire to transcend this ultimate limit. This spectre of existential loneliness casts a long shadow of fear and anx-iety over a man's life. He can deal with this spectre in a number of ways. One way, which is most characteristic of contemporary man, is to avoid the whole question as long as possible. There is a retreat from the limits of his loneliness and death and a search for a sense of security in an immersion into th6 daily activities of pleasure and production. Indeed in America death is a taboo. The subject must never be raised, not even with a dying person. Death is always an unfortunate accident that happens to someone else. Likewise acknowledgement of a deep sense of loneliness seems awkward and inappropriate in a society.dedicated to the pursuit of pleasure and hap- 399 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/3 piness. Loneliness, a basic reality of life, like death, is viewed as a sickness which alienates people from each other and society and hence is an unfor-tunate development in life that must be avoided and spurned. But in fact "it is not loneliness which separates persons from others, but the terror of loneliness and the constant effort to escape it.''t If a man cannot face and affirm his ex-perience of existential loneliness as a condition of existence, he will not only be alienated from others but even from his very self. As Dr. Elisabeth K~ibler- Ross has observed in her study of terminally ill persons, nothing frustrates and alienates them more than their families' and friends' refusal to talk of suffer-ing and death. As a result Dr. K~ibler-Ross makes a plea in her book, On Death and Dying, for more people to face up to the reality of death for the sake of helping the dying and for their own sake in living real and full lives.2 Modes of Acceptance of Suffering and Death Assuredly the acceptance of suffering and death is necessary for a truly authentic and full life. However there are significantly different modes of acceptance that man has and can choose as his way of responding to these realities. Karl Rahner suggests that there are basically three postures of ac-cepting death? First of all, some see death as the stark and complete termination of all that they have found pleasureable in life. Death is a door op~ning out into dark oblivion, into the ultimate futility of all life and as such is a cause for frustra-tion and despair. Suffering is a grim foreshadowing and reminder of this ul-timate emptiness. Others embrace death with the full consciousness of their being, realizing that they have no answer to the enigma of its meaning, but yet remaining open to an answer to this ultimate questionableness of life from a source outside of themselves and time. It is a response of stoic resignation to fatedness and all suffering, leaving open the possibility that death could be a door to ultimate fulfillment as well as to ultimate annihilation. The third response goes beyond resignation, radically affirming death and all "little deaths" in suffering as doors to a life of ultimate fulfillment, as the necessary frontiers to be crossed on the way to the radical transformation of man's ex-istential situation by a gift from God. This response of acceptance is permeated by a sense of faith and hope in seeing in the very finitude of life its radical nature as free gift from the One v~ho is Infinite. This last response is of course the Christian response. We acknowledge in faith the efficacy of Christ's death and resurrection for the transformation of our own death into eternal life in God. Dying to ourselves becomes the only way to the fullness of life. Existential loneliness in suffering and death is the ~Clark E. Moustakas, Loneliness (Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall Inc., 1961), p. 103. 2Elisabeth Kiibler-Ross, M.D., On Death and Dying (New York, N.Y.: Macmillian Co., 1969). p. 13. 3Karl Rahner, S.I., "The Passion and Asceticism," Theological Investigations (Baltimore, Md.: Helicon Press, 1967), v. 3, p. 92. Mortification / 393 very vehicle to authentic life since it is our only entrance into a participation in the Paschal Mystery which is the answer to the questionableness of all life. We believe that as an existential, ontological result of Christ's saving action all life can now be said to exist in a state of mortification, in a state of having already died with Christ that it may now live with him in a sharing in his resurrection. In this sense every life by way of baptism in Christ enters into a state of "ab-solute mortification."' Present Difficulty with Mortification No Christian has problems with accepting mortification as a state of life entered into in baptism, though we perhaps never consciously refer to life in Christ as mortified existence. The problem comes in the choosing of specific acts of mortification above and beyond the suffering and death inherent in the exigencies of life itself. These self-chosen acts of mortification, which have been termed "relative mortification," have for some time played a role in the tradition of Christian asceticism and been a prominent feature of religious life. But today it is a common assumption that relative mortification has no. place in authentic Christian living. In fact it has been condemned as a distortion and perversion of Christianity, and any mention of the subject evokes looks and words of scorn and disbelief. How can it be that such a long tradition of relative mortification has so suddenly been pushed aside and left to die?.llS it simply true that there is no value in practising it at all? To answer this question we must first identify and face the reasons for this rejection. There seem to be two fundamental reasons for this. First it stems from a reaction against the excessive and exclusively corporal nature of past practices of mortification. Secondly the rejection arises out of an affirmation that there is enough mortification inherent in trying to live a good Christian life of love. Certainly whenever the word "mortification" is spoken in Christian circles it immediately calls to mind a grim picture of severe corporal austerities aimed at prevention of or reparation for sin. Such practices of "attacking" the body do violence to our contemporary awareness of the sacrality of all material ex-istence. We react strongly against the Platonic dualistic view of life implicit in these practices which views the soul as imprisoned in the body and yearning for release from its evil propensities. Furthermore instead of releasing a person from his self-centeredness, these practices often enough focused concern on the self by creating an obsessive preoccupation with avoiding pleasure and con-solation in a fight to win salvation. The Christian call to turn outward from the self to Christ and his ~people in a spirit of suffering love is overshadowed by the quest for personal perfection in the conquest of temptation. Hence such prac-tices appear to have little connection with a valid Christian life. 'William J. Rewak, S.J., "Mortification," Review for Religious, May 1965, p. 374. 394 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/3 Inadequacy of Traditional Justifications for Mortification It certainly must be admitted that many past ascetical practices are quite justifiable on "worldly" terms alone apart from any connection with a Chris-tian view of life. Karl Rahner distinguishes three types of ascetical practices which developed independently of Christianity.5 The first type he terms moral asceticism, which uses corporal austerities as a means of self-discipline for the sake of attaining a balance of the various forces in man and thus enabling him to lead a life in harmony with the laws of his nature. Such asceticism seeks to conquer the "animality" in man so that his spirit may rule. This description would fit many of our past practices of mortification. Likewise "mystical asceticism," in using bodily self-denials as a preparation for an experience of religious enthusiasm and mystical insight, has nothing peculiarly Christian about it. The same can be said for "ritual asceticism" which also uses bodily austerities as a way to escape the profane sphere of life for the sake of contact with the transcendent. All these justifications for mortification deny the significance of Christ's Incarna;tion, deny the truth of the Word who is the flesh and blood revelation of God, who reveals the spiritual by means of th~ material. There is no prere-quisite of escape from material reality in order to find God. Contemporary Christianity has rejected past practices of mortification quite justifiably on the grounds that the reasons given for employing them had little to do with solid Christian belief. Indeed the decrees of dispensation of the Friday abstinence and of most of the Lenten fast and abstinence were viewed by many as a sort of"Emancipa-tion Proclamation" freeing Catholics from the slavery of past mortificational practices. In the ensuing exhiliration of freedom not only were the past prac-tices cast off but also the whole concept of relative mortification itself. In the name of freedom for a full human life, many could now repeat the words of James Carroll, "I have given up nothing but giving up for several Lents. I have denied myself self-denial.''6 In the same breath as was said "my work is my prayer," can be said "my life is my mortification." The Search for Enduring Values Yet with all this freedom from the past there seems to be a budding sense of frustration and emptiness. There is a growing awareness that in rejecting past practices we have neglected real values that were inherent in them though covered by distortions. A renewed emphasis on contemplation, solitude, and just plain "wasting time" is finding its way back into Christian literature. These concerns are arising not out of a sense of fear of the modern world and an attempt to hold onto the past but out of the faithfulness to one's own being and the call of need from others. There is a new movement beyond the 5Rahner, op. cit., pp. 60-66. 6James Carroll, "Mortification for Liberation," National Catholic Reporter. December 10, 197 I, p. 10. MortiJi'cation / 39~i smashing of past idolized practices to searching for the foundations of the en-during values and treasures of the Church. The present times demand that we be honest with ourselves. We must ad-mit that our work has not really become our prayer nor our living of life a full realization of the spirit of mortification. As Saint Paul so clearly stresses in the ninth chapter of his letter to the Corinthians, there is more to fighting the good fight and running the good race than the contests themselves. Any good athlete spends much time in preparation for the contest in rigorous discipline and training. Just because we find our exercises for the contest to be inade-quate it does not necessarily follow that all exercises are fruitless. What more appropriate time is there for re-examining and reassessing our own commit-ment to and training for the contests of life than now in this Holy Year of renewal and reconciliation with its special focus on personal, interior renewal? Necessity of Re-affirming the Value of Mortification From our discussion of the possible reactions to the experience of suffering and death, it is clear that total acceptance and creative affirmation of them in hope is not man's natural, spontaneous response. The mere acceptance of suf-fering and death as inevitable and a willingness to face it as it comes along is not enough in view of the Christian's radical call to affirm and give himself fully to these realities. If these "contests" are seen to hold out to every man the prize of the very meaning of all life, then they are not simply "contests" which we resign ourselves to entering, but "contests" to be trained and prepared for. A spontaneous response of faith and hope in the face of suffering and death springs from a person who has already radically affirmed these realities in the actions of his own life. The way a person affirms any values in his life is by means of the actions he freely chooses. It would seem that self-chosen acts of self-denial affect the depths of a person in a very special way that fate-imposed