Suchergebnisse

Issue 39.4 of the Review for Religious, July 1980. ; REVIEW FOR REt.t(;tOt~S (ISSN 0034-639X), published bi-monthly (every two months), is edited in collabo~:ation with faculty members of the Department of Theology of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located tit Room 428:3601 Lindell Blvd.: St. Louis, MO 63108. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri, © 1980. By REVIEW FOR RELI(;IOUS. Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid tit St. Louis. Missouri. Single copies: $2.00. Subscription U.S.A.: $8.00 a year: $15.00 for two years. Other countries: $9.(10 a yeur, $17.(111 for two years. For subscription orders or change of address, write REv~-:w ~:OR REL~;~OUS: P.O. Box 6070: I)uluth, 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 July, 1980 Volume 39 Number 4 Correspondence with the editor and the associate editors, manuscripts and books for review should be sent to REW~:W ~'OR R~:tAc~otJs; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; Jesuit Community; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19131. "Out of print" issues and articles not re-issued as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 North Zeeb Road; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. Journey into Christ James M. Deschene, O.S.B. Brother James' last article, "On Monastic Sexuality," appeared in the issue of November, 1979. He has recently been transferred to Christ of the Hills Monastery; P. O. Box 32849; Nimitz Station; San Antonio, TX 78216. A monk is a man of mystery. He is a mystery partly, though least importantly, because in our day and age he is little seen, little understood. He seems to be a romantic anachronism living out some medieval dream. To the outsider, monasteries are mysterious places and the monks within are always curiosities. Those who visit the monastery expect to find, in the words of Saint Athanasius written centuries ago, "an altogether different country, cut off from the rest of the world, and the inhabitants of that country have no thought than to live in love and justice." There is, however, a larger sense in which the monk is a man of mystery. For it is the monk, more than other men, who plunges his whole life into the very depths of the human adventure, into depths where the human adventure is discovered to be a response to a mysterious divine call. In that secret place, in the very heart of our being, a Voice, full of quiet power, speaks: 1 love you. Before the world was made, before the firsl tick of time, I loved you. I have made you for myself because I love you. And wh.en the universe lies cold and lifeless, I will love you still. Come, my beloved one. Walk with me. Give me your heart. To hear those words uttered in the stillness of our hearts is to know real ter-ror. For, like any human love, they demand of us a commitment of our very being. Yet unlike human love, their demand on us is an infinite one. We are asked to surrender ourselves utterly into those divine hands, to withhold nothing. We are afraid of such a love: 481 482 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/4 For, though I knew His Love Who followed, Yet was I sore adread Lest, having Him, I must have naught beside. (Francis Thompson, The Hound of Heaven) In the face of this demand it is easy to see why we flee from God into busy-ness, noise, distraction. Who of us can bear to be so loved? Or to offer such a love in return? Yet this love and this demand are at the very heart of our religion. God is love. And as hard as that is to believe, many find it even harder to believe that this God, this Love, loves them--infinitely (for God can do no less). This is a love that asks us to die to everything but itself, to be willing to abandon every possession, every security, every earthly thing and to leap into the dark from which God calls to us. From this darkness, from this call, from this unspeakably demanding love, we try to escape and flee. The monk does not. And insofar as man's final rest and fulfillment lie solely in God, the monk stands before us as a challenge and a sign of what we truly are and of where our lives will truly find their ending: in utter abandon-ment to the love of God. Both the Christian monk and the ordinary Christian are called to the same high and mysterious destiny. When Christ orders us to follow the narrow path, he addresses himself to all men. The monk and the lay person must attain the same heights. (St. John Chrysostom, In Epist. ad Haebraos) The monk is different in that he commits himself to this goal single-heartedly and in deadly earnest, surrendering all that might hinder the search. He who hears the voice of God must recognize that he is called to an' adventure whose ending he cannot foresee because it is in the hands of God. That is the risk and the challenge of the monastic calling: we surrender our lives into the hands of God and never take them back. (Thomas Merton, Cistercian Life) The monk is willing to suffer the loss of all things, if only Christ be gained (Ph 3:8). All the details of his life are simplified, streamlined, so that he lives with a clarity and single-mindedness often missing from the lives of other men and women. The monk is called to be the unified, integrated man whose life is centered on one thing only-- the love and service of God. And yet, for all this, we must not see the monk as special or basically different from others. Rather, he is a sign, a kind of sacrament or incarnation, of every person's specialness and vocation--to seek the God in whom alone the human heart finds rest, life and joy. You have made us for yourself, Lord. And our hearts will find no rest until they rest in you. (Saint Augustine, Confessions) The monk is also a man of despair. By being utterly honest with himself, he has come to admit the hopelessness of what the world calls good--the illu-sions, the emp.ty materialism--and knows in his heart that these values can bring no one to God, but often aid a man in hiding from the demands of the Journey into Christ infinite Lover. Yet this despair for the monk is a salutary despair, for it enables him to discard these conventional and false values and to put in their place the only true values--love, mercy, justice, peace, joy. So the monk withdraws from the city into the desert, the wilderness. He becomes an outlaw, a stranger. Yet his apartness and withdrawal are, paradoxically, signs of his deep loyalty to the family of man. In refusing to live by the values that demean human beings, the monk affirms in himself and for his brothers and sisters the true value of men and women in God's sight. Out of love for his brothers and sisters, the monk will not consent toa life that enslaves in falseness and futility. Here too the monk enters upona~mystery. For he enters a way he does not know, a journey without maps, a, land untraveled by most men and women, an uncharted wilderness. Like the Chosen People of old, he is called and led by God deeper and deeper into this unknown country. Gone are all the familiar contours of the human landscape and social life. Gone are the secur-ity and assurance of old and comfortablehabits of life. There remains in that dry desert air only the single Voice that calls one onward: "Come, my beloved one. Walk with me. Give me your heart." . Abandoning all to follow that call, the monk advances on his journey without maps. He is a fool to do so,'but he is a fool for Christ's sake; and like his Master, he confounds the wisdom of theworld by living out the wisdom of God. Seeing the monk's foolishness,- men ask: "What is the use of all this?" And the monk can give no answer. His way is not essentially a way of profit or usefulness or productivity. His life is, in the eyes of the world, a pointless one. The world never ceases to be amazed at this, and so it asks again: "What is the point of all this?" Again the monk is silent. Silence is his message. The question has been asked; that is point enough. The monk has proclaimed by his very presence the absurdity of a world apart from Ctirist. So long asa single monk lives,men will have a reason to question the ways and values of their world. Wars, revolutions, social, political ahd economic upheavals are~the tools the world uses to bring about change, Against all these the monk proclaims by his life the one-power that can healand change the world--transfiguration through love and grace. And this always happens in secret, in silence, in the d.epths where man meets God inqove. Then and there is the wounded human heart filled with healing, joy and peace, which are the monk's final gifts to suffering humanity. By surrendering himself, he has been healed, and through him flow into the world the gifts the world has ever sought but rarely found. Healing, joy, peacemthe gifts of Christ. They may be had only by a sur-render to Christ's love, by a death to all things that would separate one from his love. The monk reminds us of this. If the monk is to "reestablish all things in Christ," he must be ready to disestablish all 41~4 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/4 things in himself. Like Christ, he must empty himself, becoming obedient unto death. (Hubert van Zeller, The Holy Rule) Obedience. Death. Harsh and fearful realities for modern man. The monk, like Christ, is a man of obedience unto death. He seeks to be admitted, in love, to the heart of the mystery of the suffering Christ and to become one with that sacrifice whereby the whole world is made a new creation. He goes through death with Christ to rise in the dewy morning of a world recreated in the risen Lord. Only through obedience and death can the gifts of the new creation--joy, healing, peace--be brought to man. Our own baptism showed us this, as we were plunged into the mystery of Christ's death so we might rise with him in his new life. The monk is a living sign of baptism. In his own transfiguration through grace, having become a wholly new creature, the monk brings back into our struggling world the freshness and innocence of Eden. The monk is also a sign ol~ the end, of the coming kingdom. "Thy kingdom come," we pray, dreading that our prayer might be answered. For the kingdom (we know) will mean the end of all our petty security, our dishonesties, our comfortable habits. In the monk we see a sign of this coming kingdom. Yet in him we see too that the end, though it will be an utter catastrophe for our old ways, will finally be a deep and gracious blessing, fill~ ing our lifelong emptiness with the gifts of healing, joy and love. In the monk God gives us a living sign of this hope, a sign that Christ has already overcome the world: Easter has happened, the power of death has been vanquished, and all our fears are groundless. All that thy child's mistake Fancies as lost, I have stored for thee at home; Rise, clasp my hand, and come! (The Hound of Heaven) We see too in the monastery itself--in this community of brothers gathered in love and mutual service, and centered and grounded in Christ--a sign of the coming kingdom. In the sonship of the monks and the fatherhood of the abbot, all gathered in loving fellowship, we catch glimmerings of the m'ystery of the Trinity of Father, Son and Spirit. In the monastic Church, microcosm of the universal Church, with the monks gathered in Eucharist about the altar, we have a living sign of the Body of Christ, And in the fidelity of the monks to liturgical and contemplative prayer, we can discover anew that the worship and praise of God is the final destiny of man. For worship--"With my body I thee worship"--is but another word for love. The monk is indeed a man of mystery and of mysteries--mysteries of ¯ vocation, of surrender, of suffering; of obedience, of death, of resurrection; of the kingdom and of the Trinity. Perhaps most simply, though, he is a sign of the mystery of love which is the deep mystery of God. In our days, as always, rfien and women need signs of the mystery of God at work in their hearts. We need to hear the message of the monks among us: Journey into Christ / 485 as unknown yet well known, as ever at death's door, yet, wonder of wonders, we con-tinue to live; as chastened but not killed, as sorrowful yet always rejoicing, as beggars yet enriching many, as having nothing yet possessing everything. (2 Co 6:9-10) In silence, in hiddenness, the monk's life radiates its message of peace and hope into the nighttime of our world, assuring us that the light of Christ shines in the darkness of our lives. The end draws near, but it will be the end of darkness and death, not of life. And in that dawn, made bright with the risen Christ, our hearts will know the joy that never ends and the perfect love that casts out every fear. You changed my mourning into dancing; you took off my sackcloth and clothed me with gladness, that my soul might sing praise to you without ceasing; O Lord, my God, forever will I give you thanks. (Ps 29) That is the song the monk sings secretly in his heart. lit is the song of every Christian who has surrendered himself to Love. Come, my beloved one. Walk with me. Give me your heart. The 'Desert Is Blooming The desert is blooming again, but it blooms in the clefts of the rock and the wide-reaching spaces. It blooms in the night and it spills its perfumes over desolate sands in unreachable places. A stream has burst forth in the wilds but it springs from the face of a rock and its source is unseen. It leaps crystal-clear from the wound in the rock and around it the gold of the desert grows green. The desert is blooming again, but to see where the beauty is sprung and the flaming bush stands, means rising by night, walking through measureless days, with no paths and no rest over hot burning sands. But the blossoms are live bursts of flam!! and the fragrance speaks Presence that gives the heart wings. And high in the rock where the waters leap forth in the cleft is a nest where a brown sparrow sings. Sister Mary Clare of Jesus, P.C.C. Monastery of Poor Clares 215 E. Los Olivos St., Santa Barbara, CA 93105 Untirl Christ Be Formed in You Marie Beha, O.S.C. Sister Marie is a frequent contributor to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. She is a member of the Monastery of St. Clare; 1916 N. Pleasantburg Drive; Greenville, SC 29609. At the heart of the universe there is a zone at once profound and simple . in which whatever is done to us, it is Christ who does it; whatever we do, it is to Christ we do it. (P. de Chardin, The Prayer of the University, Harper and Row, NY, 1965, p. 26.) How have we been formed, helped to grow, to become the persons we are called to be? What influences have been most formative in our lives? The answers to these questions are multiple, as well as uniquely individual. Yet a common thread runs through them all: other persons are what form us and they are most formative when they themselves are growing, healthy, that is, when they are in the formative process themselves. To be formative of others, then, one must be "in formation" oneself. Such is the simple truth: none of us is "formed," complete, totally mature; we are all on the way, in process. We all need the help of others, if we are to continue to grow. From whom can we receive the most help? It would seem that the person or persons who are most able to assist us are those who are willing to enter into a formative relationship with us, that is, who are willing to grow with us, to be "in formation" with us. The teacher, for example, who continues to learn, teaches not only subject matter but also gives us a taste for being educated. And the spiritual director whose understanding reveals that (s)he knows our struggles from having been there and from trying to move beyond, inspires us with the possibility of such growth for ourselves. Formation ministry then seems to begin with the premise that we are most formative of others when we ourselves are healthy, maturing persons, caught up in the growth process ourselves. From this it would seem to follow that this ministry should also offer, in itself, .opportunities for such growth. 486 Until Christ Be Formed in You / 487 Forming and Being in Formalion To be in a formative relationship with others, one must be "in formation" oneself. This is the basic assumption of all that follows, an assum ptio n whose meaning will be clarified as this article proceeds. But first to rule out a few misconceptions about "forming" and "being in formative relationships." Since growth comes from within, no one can assume responsibility for another's growth; no one can be made responsible. All any one can do, or fail to do, is to provide suitable environment, a climate that inspires others to mature, that makes such maturation more possible. What these persons give to others is the stimulus of experience, encouragement, and finally, example. They say with their lives: growth is worth the effort. The price may be pain but the purchase is life. This is how you are formed. Reach, stretch, mature. Be in formation with me. Another objection might be phrased: aren't those who grow the most the young and inexperienced? At first glance this might seem to be true, but only if the focus is kept on externals. Growth comes from inside out; it is qualitative, not quantitative. In terms of adding inches or amassing facts, the beginner holds the edge. But in terms Of breakthroughs, it is the skilled athlete who shaves seconds off the record; it is the experienced researcher who adds significant insights to the pile of his predecessor's conclusions. In other words, growth is most formative, not at the beginning but at the cutting edge, the tip, the climax of the process. Put in terms of model theory, a director of formation is not called to be a doctor who heals the wounds of others; only God really heals us. Nor is (s)he to be a lecturer, outlining facts and presenting them with logical clarity--there are books enough for that; nor a therapist working through the past~, helping another to discover more appropriate responses. Rather the model of an older brother or sister seems most revelatory. Like an olde~:)l brother or sister, the formation director walks alongside, shares experiences/i~ both past and present. Past experience allows him or her to have a sense of the~ way, a sureness in walking on it. Present ministry provides an opportunity to.~) walk alongside. The activity of the director of formation can only be in support both of this working of the Spirit and of human growth. The first, work of the Spirit is the Incarnation; "she conceived by the Holy Spirit" (Mr 1:20). So too the~first work of the formation minister will be to incarnate Jesus in his/her own life, to help another discover the Jesus he or she is called tobe. 'And all of this in the service of human freedom. How are we freed? By being redeemed, bought back from the slavery that is sin in us and helped to grow into full human responsibility. Such freedom cannot be taught; it can onlybe caught. It is con-tagious. In short,(~ve are formed into freedom by being with free persons, i.e., with those whom the Spirit of truth has already begun to make free. To be such an "Inspirited" person is the vocation of the director of formation, It is his ministry of being formed and so becoming formative of others. 1188 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/4 The Vocation of Formation Ministry How we see ourselves, regard our work, will be reflected in the way that others see us, see what we do. If an individual sees formation ministry as duty, he will be dutiful and those to whom he ministers may come to see themselves as burden, as obligation, as sacrifice. At best, they will respond by being dutiful themselves; at worst, they may become resentful and noncooperative. Others may see this ministry as an advancement and honor, an office, a promotion of sorts. In which case the service of fellow pilgrim will be lost both for the director and for those (s)he is called to serve. But both of these will probably find out quickly enough that its "duty" will call far beyond the limitations of being "dutiful"; that it is an "honor" hardly worth the cost. Yet even these extremes can be seeded with some truth. A ministry that sup-ports another's grbwth into Christ does impose the duty of living as we hope to see others live; and it is an honor to be called into such service. Formation ministry, then, is primarily service. But it is a service to which we are called, rather than a task which we choose for ourselves. It is voca-tional: a call coming from our Father and incarnated in community, a direc-tion continuous with our past, shaping our present and pointing the arrow toward future growth. And finally it is a call that will change our lives, prod us into conversion, gift us with new life in the Lord. In summary, the vocation of formation ministry will form us on that most personal level of our own call/response to the Lord. Like every vocation, the ministry of formation is primarily response, rather than self-initiated project. And a. gospel "woe" may well be pro-nounced on anyone who would be so rash as to undertake this ministry without a special call. The initiative for such an undertaking must come from the Father, be a deepening of his creative mystery at work in an individual life. How does this divine initiative become "verbalized"? In terms of such offices as superior or director of novices, it is the community which calls through election or through appointment. In regard to other expressions, for example those of spiritual direction or the formative influence of closeTriend-ship, the call still must be "spoken" by another. Spiritual direction ministry can be undertaken with greatest sureness when it is a response.to the expressed desire of others and not just a matter of embarking on a new apostolate. Similarly, the bonding of close friendship can never be a self-determined pro-ject; it is also a matter of call/response. Another way in which the vocation to formation ministry is actualized is through the reality of talent and gift. Are we able to be of service? Does past experience and training hold promise that our ministry will be fruitful for ourselves as well as for others? Even past difficulties which have allowed us to experience His power at work in our weakness may be real indicators of call and capacity for response. But all of these are only "hints." Election or appointment is the fallible work of very human instruments. Talents point to potential; but every Until Christ Be Formed in You / 489 possibility is not meant to be realized. A still clearer indication of divine initiative is found in our present response to the challenges of such a ministry. Do its painful challenges work redemption in us? Are we raised up by its self-emptying demands? Does the dailiness of this service help us to incarnate our most personal response to the Lord? If so, then we may be still more certain of our call and go on to give to it a life's commitment. For like every call, this ministry, if it is to be truly vocational, must make a lifelong difference. At first this may seem an unwarranted development. Aren't we talking about something limited in time, an office to be held for a few years and so to be taken merely as a present opportunity which will occupy us for a time and from which we will go on to other ministries? Though limita-tions of time and form are surely real enough, what seems even more true is the life-difference that such ministries do make. To enter into a formative relationship with another cannot be limited to a term of office; it is,ongoing. What is formed--or de-formed--in the other makes a critical and lifelong difference for both individuals "in formation." Obviously, the directee will need to respond "for life" to his/her formation, either by accepting its in-fluence and living out of it or :by transcending it; most often, he will need to do some of both. Likewise the director will be equally formed, but only if he com-mits himself to the formative process. More of this in the following section. But first a word on commitment. Like every call, coming from the Father, enunciated in the human accents of election/appointment and in the realized potential of the one called, a vocation to be a director of formation awaits per-sonal response. This answer begins with an acceptive, "I am willing," ".1 am ready to try." And goes on in the everyday of repeated response in the face of difficulty and challenge, as well as the joy of growth and significant dif-ference. Such renewed commitment becomes increasingly formative of still deeper commitments until an initial choice grows into a life-direction, giving its own meaning to everything else that is one's life. When this occurs, as this occurs, a director of formation grows in capacity to be formative of others just because (s)he is more formed himself. Formation in Christ The formation of every Christian is call/response to grow into "full stature': in Christ. There is no other direction for such a life in Christ than that of coming from the Father and returning to him, with the consequent becom- !ng ever more of a "son in the Son." So a vocation to be a minister of forma-tion will be lived out in deepening identification with the life of Jesus, an allowing of his life to be lived in us now. For each person so called this will mean a new enfleshing of His .mysteries of: incarnation realization, paschal transcendence, and eucharistic self-gift. Such will be the living out of a voca-tion to formation ministry. As a consequence, this ministry will become not only a call to serve others 490 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/4 ~but also an invitation to divine intimacy. Itis unfortunate that service and union have come to be seen as almost antithetical, or, at best, in a kind of ten-sion. The gospel parable of the talents hints at something quite different. There each wise investor of his talents is doubly rewarded:., with still more talents but also with an invitation to "enter into the joy of the Lord" (Mt ~" 25:21,23). So an individual who is called to the formation ministry will find that his talents will grow even as they are given away. New capabilities will be discovered in response to the needs of others. Even personal poverties will be transformed into experiences that allow one to enter more perceptively into the struggles of another. Such may be some of the ways in which talents in-vested in service of the Master are doubled in his return. But the greatest gift of all is that invitation to deepening intimacy which is extended to every faithful servant. The amount of original talents differs and so the amount of "doubling," but an opportunity for growth in personal relationship is offered each in an invitation to "enter into the joy of the Lord." Formation Ministry and ,Living Incarnation "Putting on the Lord Jesus" (Ga 3:27) could serve as the goal of all Chris-tian formation. What concerns us here is how the minister of formation is called to do this, is helped to do it, by his very service to others. The mystery of the'incarnation centers around such truths as "God so loved the world" (Jn 3:16). the virgin's acceptive, "Be it done unto me" (Lk 1:38) and climaxes in "the word became flesh and dwelt among us" (Jn 1:14). It is these same mysteries of creative love, acceptance and enfleshment of the divine, that will be realized as the formation director becomes Christ in and through service of others. "God so loved the world" (Jn 3:16). Motivation for formation ministry Imust be "rooted in love, grow in love" (Ep 3:18). As has already been sug-gested, it is not so much a task for which one volunteers as a call to which one responds out of love. "I come to do your will" (Ps 40). But this can be no grim conformity undertaken out of duty and it is surely one of the graces of this ministry that any such lack of love will be unmasked by diminished response from others. For individuals know intuitively whether they are being met by ~love or not and they respond accordingly. They also know whether they are loved only when they appear loveable or whether they are loved for themselves, as they are, in all their incompleteness. To be loved even when the sinfulness thatis still a real part of ourselves is most apparent is that merciful love that creates us anew. Such love, complete and "for-giving," is.beyond' the stretches of human capacity; it can only be a gift of sharing in the power of God's love. Yet itis just such a love that is asked of the formation director.for himself, and for those (s)he is called to minister to. This love of the Father for us "even when we are still sinners'~' (Rm 5:8) needs enfleshment this day, in unique circumstances, for particular individ- Until Christ Be Formed in You / 491 uals. But first the Father waits for human response to his promise, "! am with you" (Mr 28:20), "filling you with grace" (Lk 1:28). So a director of for-mation will find that his ministr3i calls for deepening, renewed commitment that will allow divine love to begin its transforming work. Such commitment must come in all the darkness of an acceptive trust that knows only "It is the Lord" (Jn 21:7) and yet responds, "he it done unto me." It goes on to call for a repeated giving body to this initial assent in all the life circumstances which call forth continuing, growing trust. Such trust will be renewed in the face of all those mysterious, slow and "dark" aspects of human growth, during all those times wheia any development at all is more a matter of faith than of vision. Faith grows through believing, and surely someone involved in formation ministry will be called to trust more in the Lord than in any response made out of careful planning or skilled technique, to let go of one's preconceptions and move with the Spirit, to trust one's intuitions even when they cannot be justified with reasons, to believe in the face of discouragement and apparent defeat. Often enough it is only the courageous faith of the director that will allow another to begin to believe in himself or herself. Such faith is rooted in the word of the Lord, not in human promise. Other-wise it will falter when individuals resist and all seems lost, when human mistakes are made despite the best of effort. To assist the Spirit at work in the formation of Christ in another requires an assent, made in faith's unknowing, to all that will be, even to the "end" of apparent defeat and the destruction of all that one has helped to form. For this possibility must also be accepted in a trusting "Be it done." Only, in such faith will the word that has been heard begin to be "made flesh" (Jn l : 14). First of all this must be the incarnation of Jesus, being lived out by the director himself, herself. To be so formed into Jesus is to.grow into that perfect man who is fully responsive to the Father and to others. For anyone called to formation ministry this response will be embodied both in prayer and in service. The prayer of a formation minister will be that of Jesus the mediator who stands before the Father, not in olace oLothers, but alongside of them. It will be the prayer of a life that teaches others to pray by praying. It will know seasons of necessary withdrawal and of .equally neces,sary involvement. It will include a being led by the Spirit into the desert and up upon the mountain top, as well as a responsiveness that remains always open to the immediate needs of others. Such prayer is essential, if the formation minister is to be revelatory of Jesus and of the Father. And this is the central service of any Christian ministry. The director of formation is to so incarnate the God-man that it can be said that anyone who sees hin), her, sees Jesu_.~Ajyjag~to_d_day. And if that weren't challenge enough, the director of formation is also called to reveal the Jesus that is in the other. For we are not meant, it seems, to 492 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/4 see, perhaps even to attempt to look at, the Jesus that is growing in ourselves. It takes the faithful love of another to mirror him to us. We need another to reveal that our needs as well as our gifts, our as yet unrealized potential as well as our present loveliness, are all beginnings of new life in Christ, a new incar-nation. Formation Ministry and Paschal Transcendence Letting Jesus live his life in us calls for an incarnational assent to the potential that is offered us in baptism; this initial commitment grows with each renewal that allows his life to become still more enfleshed in our being. Such responsiveness on the part of a director of formation will inevitably involve a "Journey up to Jerusalem" (Lk 19:28), a sharing in the dying and rising of Jesus in one's own life'and in the lives of others. Such suffering, no matter how it appears at the time, is never defeat; it is lpromise of paschal victory. But first the cross. The suffering we speak of here is not primarily a matter,of pain but rather the sum of all that must be borne 'until Christ be formed ' (Ga 4:19) in ourselves and in others. For to be in formative relationship with another means a being open that implies vulner-abilitY,; it risks letting other~ come close enough to us so that they may be touched, so that we may touch them. Such "touching" is apt symbol for the 'healing that isthe paschal victory of all redemption. But redemption is a costly process and consequently the director of formation is inevitably committed to renewed sharing in the sufferings of Christ "for the sake of his body" (Col 1:24). The sufferings of formation work include not only the expenditure of time and energy that are part of the price of any worthwhile undertakingobut they go on to ificlude the deeper sufferirigs of respons'iveness to others in the critical struggles of their being redeemed, and they culminate in the self-gift that is in-evitable in any process oftransformation. In this work of redemption' ~vith ~11 its suffering the director will find his or her own life being changed into greater identification which will, in its turn, be most formative of other~. So transfor-mation into Christ crucified will not only be a goal Of fo~rmation; it will also be part of the process for all who are "in formation." From the beginning, the'labor of formation will require a sacrifice of time, not only providing a certain allotment of time but even more radically ihe generosity to let one's time be taken by others. To let others take time mbans to give them time: to grow at their own pace, to express themselves in their own way, to claim as their own the time they need. It is not to allow ourselves or others to waste time in self-indulgent claims for attention, in endless repeti-ti6ns, in hesitancy that becomes fixed in cowardice. To give time is rather to offer it so that it may be consecrated to the work of redemption. Such an of-fertory is easily made in words; it is consummated in d~ily responsiveness: to an inconvenient request for "just a minute," to a halting expression of another's journey toward truth, to the setting aside bf a cherished project for Until Christ Be Formed in You / 49~! the sake of another's critical need. What is really given now "belongs" to others; the director can no longer lay claim to ownership, not even the hidden justification of self-pity and complaint. Free time cannot be hoarded; work time, for a dedicated director of formation, must always give priority to per-sons. So schedules bend and plans must be sometimes set aside. All of this "costs," yet, since it is not beyond the agreed upon price of this service, there is no honest cause for complaint. Self-pity is not only useless, it is unjustified and becomes, when this is admitted, singularly unsatisfying. However, such a gift of time, if it is to be a consecration of reality, cannot be without limits. A formation director who attempts to give away every minute attempts to be more than human and so inevitably fails. Everyone's time is limited; and to learn to live within limits is part of the formation pro-cess. To say "no" to what one cannot do, can be a dark ~nd mysterious "yes" to what one really is. For example, refusing a request may be a necessary part of giving priority to prayer. Such a choice is formative for life not only for the director but also for the one (s)he directs. Similarly giving oneself time and leisure to live is part of accepted human-ness. It sounds so easy, so right, but it requires discipline and so becomes another aspect of the cross formed by our temporal limits. When days are full already the temptation to overload must be resisted even when the tempter speaks in beguiling accents of real need or personal opportunity. A director of formation will grow personally and in service to others, as (s)he accepts per-sonal limits, learns to live within them, never failing to take time for prayer, giving unstintingly in service even at the price of personal inconvenience, but also resisting the temptation to become a messiah who needs to save all. As (s)he,grows thus in recognition of "the hour," a director of formation enters ever more deeply into the paschal mystery. This identification with the dying-rising of Jesus goes on in all the close, personal interchange, the "touching" and allowing oneself to "be touched" that is at the heart of the healing power of formation ministry. A director of formation will come to experience, for example, what it means to stand firm against the gravitational pull of sin, bad habits, patterns of self-indulgence. (S)he will have to respond honestly to such in others; but to do so, (s)he will also need to acknowledge and resist the powers of evil in himself. At times, the persons one is called to serve will try to defend themselves by lashing out at the director's faults. They may even be painfully accurate with their barbs and this will hurt; it can also heal, if accepted. Such is the mutuality of the process that valid criticisms, even when spoken in anger, can form humility--in director and. directee. When the criticism is more vindictive than valid, it can still be formative if the director stands firm and continues to love the other. In ministering to others in their "dying" one can expect some denial, anger, depression. To expect it, however, is not to take it all into oneself; this would only be to die oneself without any promise of hope in new life. Denial 494 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/4 must first be understood for what it is, a kind of first line of defense; but it cannot be condoned. Similarly, anger will require both honest admission and acceptance. If it is to become purifying, its energy must be channeled into con-structive ways lest it turn into self-destruction and the final defeat of closed-minded bitterness. So too, depression will need adequate expression as well as ! understanding compassion; but it too must be passed beyond. What the direc-tor willdo in allof these cases is to give immediate, concrete expression to Christ's understanding, acceptance and compassion, and this will be for him/her a renewed experience of "putting on the mind of Christ Jesus" (PhB2~)~t the same time, (s)he will resist the powers of darkness that could allow moods to mushroom into clouds of negative feelings, infect others with a critical spirit and damage the peace with projections that wound the truth. A director of formation may know in very personal ways the price of battling with such divisive spirits. But this too can become a sharing in the passion of Jesus, who both began and ended his public life in combat with Satan. In thus resisting the powers of evil, the director of formation will also experience those aspects of the passion in which Jesus "emptied himself" (Ph 2:7) taking on our weakness. To be called like Jesus to express the Father's desire that each individual come into freedom is not to experience that one is.a savior. On the contrary, the truth is that we do not save; only the Father does in and through Jesus. And in and through the life that Jesus lives in us today. Just as the power to save was costly for Jesus, cost him his life, so too it will cost life for a committed director. Though at times this may take on dramatic proportions, such crises cannot be anticipated. They can only be prepared for in the everyday, in the selfless bearing of others' burdens, in con- ~stant care, in lived through loneliness, in faced failures. To bear others' burdens without making them feel that they, themselves, have be6ome a burden takes a love that seeks to give rather than to receive. To care for others enough to let that become our heart's response, that is to experience the love that heals. Paul speaks of his "constant care for all the churches" (2 Co 11:28) as one of his most pressing apostolic sufferings; a director who cares will ¯ probably experience something of the same "weight of glory" (2 Co 4:17). Loneliness seems to be something of an occupational hazard for all direc-tors, surrounded though they are by others and yet called into a uniquely selfless kind of relationship with them. Like Jesus, the director must be there for others, not for himself/herself. What (s)he may wish to spe~k about, his/her concerns, feelings, fears or hopes, these are not the focus of the direc-tional relationship. Consequently, the director will probably know end-of-day times, holidays and even "holy days" when personal needs go without much human comfort, or understanding. These can be special opportunities for growth in relationship to the Father, who calls and who promises a corre-sponding grace of new intimacy to all who share the life of sonship. Finally, the director of formation will face failure; not only the burden of Until Christ Be Formed in You / 495 his own inadequacies but the tragedy, on occasion, of human resistance ~to grace, the weakness of repeated denial, reluctance to face truth, the darkness of a mind that cannot go beyond prejudice, and sometimes, even, outright denial for the sake of more immediate satisfaction. These are failures. Not only personal failures, but losses in the cosmic struggle for final redemption. They will not be ultimately defeative, however, if faith on the part of the direc-tor can transform them into claims on the power of God. And it is the power of the Father at work in the world, particularly the world, of "beloved sons" (Mt 3:17), that promises and makes possible, final triumph. This is the "secret" of the director's ability to empower others. (S)he trusts so completely in the Father's redemptive love that others are enabled to respond more fully, more freely. This is resurrection. And it is surely one of the paschal joys of formation ministry to see individuals begin to trust enough that they are willing to risk the darkness of buried fears, mixed motivations, strong conflicts. Only when these are faced and gone through can risen life begin to be realized. It is in such "passing through" that the director knows most fully the mystery that death gives way to glory. The promise of such Easter rising will be realized every time love is victorious over limitation, temptation, and human weakness, and new life comes.into the mystical Body of Jesus. Formation Ministry and Eucharistic Presence The formative process of "putting on Christ Jesus" (Gal 3:27) begins with an incarnational enfleshing of spirit; it continues in a passing through death into new trust and hope and joy; it culminates in an abiding presence that transforms the bread of our work and the wine of our pain into Eucharist. To live a eucharistic life, a director of formation will need to be really present in faith, to be offered in a daily sacrifice ~of praise, and, ultimately, to be transformed in the very body of Jesus. Eucharist realizes the abiding presence of Jesus, his remainingwith us even after he has passed through death into the full glory of his Father. It is one of a formation director's continuing joys to be allowed to. be_a.co-presence of Chris_____t in the lives of so many others. But such presence, if it is to be truly eucharistic, has to remain constant no matter what the times or seasons, places or persons. To be present in the present is, then, one of the ways in which the forma-tion director is challenged to live eucharistically. Surrendering the past into the mercy of God, letting go of hurts, transcending emotions'whose reality is chiefly out of former experiences, forgiving with enough love to forget as well: these are some of the ways in which what has been must be transcended to let the present break through. For it is only in the sacredness of present reality that God's gift can be received and given again. Such presence will also demand that a formation director set aside per-~ sonal concerns, to gift another with loving attention in the present moment. 496 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/4 (S)he will also need to transcend felt preference for this individual or that one, in order to be more given to each person who comes. Like the bread of life that can be received by all, the love of someone called to formation ministry will have to be present for and to many, many different persons. Rarely does a formation director have anything to say about which individuals (s)he will serve; rather (s)he learns to simply be there strongly and quietly, always pres-ent but as a sign to be passed beyond. Here again the director is formed into a eucharistic life through the grow-ing realization of what it means to live as sign of;the Lord's abiding love. First of all such a ministry demands a constant fidelity, if it is to speak of "everlasting love" (Jr 31:3). To be with others even when they are barely there themselves, to remain during the critical hours of choice, as well as the long days when not much seems to happen. To suffer with others in their pain and be companions of every small joy: all this calls for growing unselfishness. But such fidelity speaks significantly of a God who is always with us. And it is this kind of witness that makes a formation director into a sign of Real Presence. But only a sign meant to point beyond itself. Just as eucharistic bread abides as food, but only for this present journey, so too, a director of forma-tion will need to be constant in presence, .but only for the sake of another's going beyond. No sign is meant to call attention to itself but only to the greater reality which it signifies. So too, formation ministry will realize its goals when individuals transcend initial needs and grow more secure in self-direction. But none of us is meant to be so independent that we no longer need formation; our goal is to grow together in mutual formative responsibility. For such growth to occur, the directee will need to let go of "attachment" to direction and the director, to point beyond self toward greater freedom. To live a eucharistic life, a director of formation will also be asked to become an "unending sacrifice of praise" (Heb 13:15). Such a spirit of thanksgiving opens the heart of oneself and others to the Father's goodness, present in all created things. To enjoy one's daily bread requires an asceticism that goes beyond the mood swings which tend to dominate our interior world, as well as the changeable circumstances of everyday life. Such joy transcends immediate perceptions and rests secure in a faith which believes that everything that comes into our lives can be transformed. So the ordinary holds promise of gift and even the painful possesses possibility. It is within our per-sonal power to pronounce consecrating words every time we are acceptive of reality, saying "this is my body," my life, my world, a gift of His love. Such an asceticism of constant joy requires a eucharistic spirit of "giving thanks always" (Ep 5:20). For what are we grateful? Unless our pains as well as our pleasures are included, we have yet to discover the redeeming presence of Jesus offering praise to the Father through the sacrifice of his life. Such a vision of reality sees beyond appearances; it will require the eyes of faith, if we are to accept everything that comes to us as gift. Such living faith can best be caught from others who help us see that even o,._____ur most personal poverties pr.~o- Until Christ Be Formed in You / 497 vide opportunity for God's power to break through. Like wheat and grapes they matter for transformation. Such a spirit of praise for the ordinary and thanksgiving even for the pain-ful can only be celebrated in community. We cannot be grateful unless we are in relation with others; we cannot see with redemptive vision unless others open our eyes to the "glory dwelling in our land" (Ps 85:9). To see the beauty in the ordinary of others' lives will be one of the formation director's causes of celebration. Sharing the vision of someone who is discovering a certain truth for the first time will call forth hymns of praise. Even the cross will be celebrated, not for itself, but for the new life that it promises. A formation director will have ample opportunity t'o know the slow~ ordinary ways of human growth, to believe in the possibility of tra~sforming~ persons into a new body of Christ. His/her faith will be challenged in.the face~ of another's incredulity, "l'll never be any better." "I can't do it." "It's to much for me." In the face of such too human protests, the director can say, not only with words, but far 'm~re powerfully with a whole life's attitude, "Nothing is impossible for God" (Lk 1:37), if.you let his word and work transforni you. In hope, sometimes in a beginning vision of what is being accomplished, a director of formation will finally come to "see" something of eschatological promise. New life is coming; Jesus is being revealed. To help another discover the Jesus that he or she is called to become is surely one of the joys of forma-tion ministry. It is a work of love, for only love is creative enou_gh to let the ordinary become revelatory. So a director of formation becomes Eucharist in a ministry that requires abiding presence, joy-filled offering, and a faith that is open to transforma-tion. But the sacrifice that prepares for such a consecration is effected most really in the everyday of "bread that is broken" and "blood that is poured out" (Mr 26:26-27). For this ministry will, at times, require the kind of giving of one's body and blood beyond what can be asked, much less required. Only love can dare to make such demands. And it is out of love that a formation director will respond with a laying down of one's life for others. How is such sacrifice "ac(omplished"? In a giving whose only self-determination is to give everything, even self, away. The "accidents" of such an offering will be the gifts of time and energy, patience and persistence, shared pain and continuing struggles to respond; these will be the appearances that remain. They signify the constant ordinariness of this sacrificial ministry; they are the human externals giving form and expression to th~ desire that one's life be given to nourish the growth of others into fuller union in Christ. Underneath these and other external accidents of this ministry of forma-tion, an essential change takes place. That life which is "laid down for others" (Jn 15:13) will gradually be transformed into the life of Jesus who "gave himself as a ransom for many" (Mt'20:28). And it is in the giving that the transformation will be effected. Just as Jesus became savior in the living out 4911 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/4 of his mission, so too a director of formation will grow into greater identifica-tion with Jesus, by living out his saving mission, even to accepting the repeated small deaths that it entails. In this way transformation will be effected: "I live now, not I, but Christ lives in me" (Ga 2:20). Such interior change from living one's own life to allowing Christ to live his life, his mysteries, in us can transform the ordinary bread of human effort into a new sacramental reality. What is given becomes more significative, and so more effective. What is signified, what is really effected, is the love of God poured out in the Spirit of Jesus. Life becomes___a~from the Father, an acceptance of what is offered a .nd a_._~more.and_.more total return. This is the life of sonship. It is what all are called to live, what Jesus desires to live in us, if we allow him. For a, director of formation who is willing to give, who is willing to give with a whole life's body and blood, such self-donation promises a communion that grows into ever closer identification. And this, not only for oneself, but also for those to whom one ministers. In this way the mysteries of Christ will not simply be remembered; they will be celebrated anew in the lives of all who are involved in the formative process. Each individual will be called to live again the realism of the incarnation, the transformation of dying-rising, and the self-gift of eucharistic presence. And this very living will be transforming, until each of us and all of us together finally come to "form that one body which is Christ Jesus come to full stature" (Ep 4:13). A nnuncialion Stirring summer air salutes her cheek, Then tomorrows whirl inside her Kaleidoscope of thunderstorm and sunrise. She cups a question--"How?"--around the message To know its shape, And strikes white-hot divinity. "Let it be done!" Storm and sun explode In searing glory That contracts into a spark Within her womb. Sister Mary Cabrini Durkin, O.S.U. 1339 East McMill~n Street Cincinnati, OH 45206 Ecumenical Commitment and the Contemplative Dimension Robert Hale, O.S.B., Camald. Father Hale is the Roman Cfftholic Prior of Incarnation Priory, an ecumenical monastic com-munity sponsored jointly by the Camaldolese Order and the (Anglican) Order of the H61y Cross. His address is Incarnation Priory; 2451 Ridge Road; Berkeley, CA 94709. What relation can exist between ecumenism and the contemplative orders? Or indeed (and more importantly) between ecumenism and the more con-templative dimension in every religious, in every Christian life? ls there something about ecumenism that can reach down to that level and profoundly engage it? Or does ecumenism simply mean attending conferences and crack-ing technical theological books? If such were the case, it would probably run the risk of becoming just another cultural activity for churchy people, and fade sooner or later, with the emergence of a new fad. There are in fact some telling indications that ecumenism can reach down to the contemplative dimension, nourish it and challenge its full commitment. One thinks of a Taizi:, for instance, or of Chevetogne; one remembers a Thomas Merton, so profoundly ecumenical throughout his entire spiritual journey. The list of communities and individuals that witness to this con-templative dimension of ecumenism could certainly be extended at length. But what is it about ecumenism that does reach into the contemplative level? And indeed what is it about contemplation which (perhaps) really requires an ecumenical opening out? This article will seek to probe some of the ways these two areas overlap and interact. Ecumenism and Prayer of Petition Of course one of the most obvious ways t'hat the two are brought together is the moment of petitionary prayer. And it is precisely the contemplative who 499 500 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/4 is not ashamed to ask for things from the Father, for the more we advance in prayer, the more experientially we know that all is grace. So the more childlike our prayer can become, insistently asking. Cassian, for instance, proposes to very advanced contemplatives the constant repetition of the verse from the Psalms: "O God make speed to save me: O Lord make haste to help me.'" This contemplative form is an "important stage''2 towards the emergence of the Prayer of Jesus in Sinite and Athonite Hesychasm.3 "Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me" is not the only formula used, but the prayer almost always has the.character of a petition.4 In the western tradition, the author of the Cloud suggests that when contemplatives pray in words, "their words are few. A short prayer pierces the heavens.''5 This also because "the contemplative must hold himself continually poised and alert at the highest and most sovereign point of the spirit,"6 and at that level one isn't loquacious. And what should this briefest of prayers be? Let me try to illustrate what I mean with an example from real life. A man or woman ter-rified by sudden disaster is forced by the circumstances to the limits of his personal resources, and marshals all his energy into one great cry for help. In extreme situations like this, a person is not given to many Words nor even to long ones. Instead, summoning all his strength, he expresses his desperate need in one loud cry: "Help!'" One could multiply the citations from contemplative authors,8 but the point probably doesn't need belaboring: the contemplative, like the insistent widow in Christ's parable (Lk 18:1-8), is not afraid to lose a little dignity and time in beating urgently on the door. The Fathers speak of the contemplative also as a Jacob who must frequently wrestle with God. George Herbert's striking poem entitled "Prayer" re-evokes this more urgent and dramatic function of prayer: Engine against th'AImightie, sinners towre, Reversed thunder, Christ-side-piercing spear.~ ' John Cassian, Conferences, X. 10; 2. Sources Chr~tiennes (Paris: Les l~ditions du Cerf, 1958) LIV, p. 88. 20. Chadwick, John Cassian (Cambridge: University Press, 1968), p. 106. ~ See for example A Monk of the Eastern Church, The Prayer o f Jesus (New York: Desclee, 1967), pp. 29-58. ~ Ibid., pp. 65f. ' The Cloud of Unknowing and The Book of Privy Counseling (New York: Image Books, 1973), pp. 95-96. 6 Ibid., p. 95. ' Ibid., p. 95-96; see also W. Johnston, The Mysticism of the Cloud of Unknowing (St. Meinrad: Abbey Press, 1975), pp. 168-172. ~ See for instance Ludovicus BIosius on "Aspirations" in A Book of Spiritual Instruction (Maryland: Newman Press, 1955), pp. 30-37; see also A. Baker, Holy Wisdom: Directions for the Praye~ of Contemplation (London: Burns Oates & Washbourne, 1950), pp. 509-518, etc. * George Herbert, The English Poems (London: Dent, 1977), p. 70. For an Orthodox analysis of the mystical theology in Herbert's poetry see Sister Thekla, George Herbert: Idea and Image (Buckinghamshire: Greek Orthodox Monastery, 1974). Ecumenical Commitment and the Contemplative Dimension / 501 We perhaps need a little of this violent urgency when praying about reunion. We have gotten our Christian collective selves in quite a mess. Anglicans have been praying for centuries that God might "give us the grace seriously to lay to heart the great dangers we are in by our unhappy divisions.'''° More recently, Vatican lI has endeavored also to stir up Catholics to "remorse over Christian divisions and a longing for unity.'"' But ecumenical theologians are unanimous in insisting that we're not going to be able to get out of this one trusting merely in our own skills. Authentic reunion in diversity will be primarily a gift. But we, like the lame and blind in the Gospels, must beg for the miracle. Christ isn't going to force it down our throats. Shifting Cassian's (and the Psalmist's) prayer into the plural, we must beg: "O Lord, make speed to help us!" Or maybe we'll just cry out with the author of the Cloud." "Help!" Ecumenism and Contemplative Renewal Thomas Merton, in an important article published the year of his death, and which well merits rereading, argues the intrinsic connection between ecumenism and contemplative renewal.'2 With the Counter-Reformation, contemplative life tended to assume an "inflexible" form, adopt a "stern em-phasis on 'regularity,' not to say legalism" which was "justified by a casuistical and sometimes arbitrary theology" and marked by "touching, though bizarre, manifestations of mystical stamp.'"3 One of the occupational hazards of the post-Tridentine contemplative ~ndeavor is that in its rigidity and tension it must sustain "an illusion of Special election and of incorruptible truth." ,4 The "contemplatives" caught up in this self-conscious nervousness can "do so much to save their souls that they lose them., they concentrate on such particular, limited aspects of good that they become perverse and singular.'"~ Anyone who has some acquaintance with contemplative monasteries and convents, and with "contemplative souls," is quite aware that Merton is on to something; the danger he is talking about is still inside our prayer life. What might serve as a protection and antidote? Merton proposes a good swig of ecumenism. He is talking specifically about monasteries, but the argument clearly has a wider relevance: The monastic life must preserve or acquire an ecumenical relevance, in the form of an ,o The Book of Common Prayer(New York: Oxford University Press, 1952), p. 37; this prayer has fortunately been conserved in the new Book of Common Prayer (New York: Seabury Press, 1977), p. 818. " Decree on Ecumenism, Introduction, n. I, in Abbot, p. 342. ': :T. Merton, "Ecumenism and Monastic Renewal," Journal of Ecumenical Studies (1968), reprinted in Contemplation in a World of Action (New York: Doubleday, 1971); citations here will be from the book. ,5 Ibid., p. 185. " Ibid., '~ Ibid., pp. 185-186. 502 / Review for Religious, l/olume 39, 1980/4 openness which is not only ready and able to discuss credal or sectarian differences w~tla polite detachment, but which is able to share on the deepest level the risks and agonies of Christian crisis, i6 If the problem isnervous rigidity and narrowness, clearly the opening out that ecumenical consciousness requires can constitute a needed healing force. Thus Merton is delighted that "monasteries are promising to become centers not only of ecumenical discussion but of deeply lived and participated ecumenical experience. ' ' ' 7 The author of the Cloud speaks of the "arduous toil" of the "con-templative work.'"8 For such a taxing activity, we need the solid nourishment of the Word, of the Eucharist, of the Fathers. Our own extremely rich Catholic heritage has often been rather diluted by post-Tridentine devo-tionalism, by anti-quietism squeamishness regarding contemplative prayer. The Reform insistence on the centrality of the Word, the Anglican and Orthodox awareness of the Patristic heritage, contemplative traditions that have flourished in other Churches--all these can nourish and broaden our own contemplative prayer. Merton himself is an evident example of a Catholic contemplative growing constantly from an openness to so many other heritages. If contemplation consists in so growing in union with God that our deepest consciousness expands to the dimensions of his love, certainly that love is limitless, and his salvific will embraces all men. If Christ has come to batter down men's walls and grant us his koinonia and reconciliation, surely he is the chief and principal ecumenist. And as we grow in union with him through con-templative prayer, then we shall become ecumenists at this deepest level of our Christ life. Contemplation and Ecumenical Renewal But if ecumenism can revitalize our contemplative life, it is also true that contemplation can contribute decisively to the growth of true ecumenism. Jean Tillard has noted: The reunion of two separated churches is not a mechanical process. And it cannot be the result only of theological discussions and official authoritative decisions. It is primarily a spiritual matter.Our reconciliation will be a true one and our unity a full one only if they are spiritually prepared and spiritually received. In other words, reunion has a mystical dimension." ~ Ibid., pp. 186-187. " Ibid., p. 196; see concrete proposals in R. Hale, "The Benedictine Spirit in Anglicanism," American Benedictine Review (Sept. 1979), pp. 245-248. '~ Cloud, op. cit., p. 83. '~ J. Tillard, Sermon preached at Mass of Reconciliation, Holy Cross Monastery, West Park N.Y., Sept. 18, 1976. OLcourse theDecree on Ecumenism insists that "spiritual ecumenism"-- conversion of heart, prayer and holiness of life--constitutes the "soul of the whole ecumenical movement." Ch. 11, nn. 7-8, in Abbot, pp. 351-352. Ecumenical Commitment and the Contemplative Dimension /503 If there is one aspect that has been wanting, the expert ecumenist continues, it is precisely this contemplative dimension: During the last years, we probably did not care sufficiently about this profound dimen-sion. We had a theological, doctrinal official ecumenism. Did we have a real spiritual one?2o The need of this contemplative dimension to fortify the ecumenical movement is probably more urgent than ever. Cardinal Hume has recently noted that ecumenism seems to be entering "a phase which is characteristic in the spiritual life--the dark night of the soul.''2' The analogy is most telling, because the dark night "follows on an initial period of fervor and enthusiasm and, when it happens, the soul runs the risk of giving way to frustration and impatience. It can sometimes have the impression of having been abandoned by God.''2~ Anyone acquainted with the current ecumenical situation will recognize the aptness of the Cardinal's reference. But the only way to get through the dark nights, according to St. John of the Cross, is through a most profound faith that is nourished from within by a contemplative experience of God's loving faithfulness. Things ecumenical do seem rather blocked at this point, and flashy joint liturgies and improvised lowest-common-denominator accords are not going to get us through. It may be that only the tenacious stay-ing power of contemplative experience will do it. Towards the beginning of this article, the importance of contemplative petitionary prayer was noted; but perhaps even more basically than that, ecumenism needs contemplative faith. Two Visions The ecumenical hope proposes a vision of a "coming great Church" in which each ecclesial community will .~be able to maintain its own unique spiritual and theological heritage, but all will be bound up in one sacramental and doctrinal communion, and rooted in the one Christ.~ The contemplative badly needs this beautiful ecclesial vision. It is a kind of giant mandala that reveals the Center, and also the circumference of his prayer. It is also a macrocosm of what his own spiritual life should be: the harmonious intercom- 20 j. Tillard, op. cit. 2' B. Cardinal Hume, cited in Catholic Herald (July 6, 1978), p. 3. 22 Ibid. 2~ Pope Paul VI, in treating of the reunion of the Anglican Communion and the Roman Catholic Church, sketched in broad outline one aspect of this vision: "There will be no seeking to lessen the legitimate prestige and the worthy patrimony of piety and usage proper to the Anglican Church when the Roman Catholic Church--this humble Servant of the Servants of God--is able to embrace her ever beloved Sister in the one authentic communion of the family of Christ: a com-munion of origin and of faith, a communion of priesthood and of rule, a communion of the Saints in the freedom and love of the Spirit of Jesus." Pope Paul VI, Homily for the Canonization of the Forty Martyrs of England and Wales, L 'Osservatore Romano (26-27 October 1970), p. 2. See also Acta Apostolicae Sedis, 62 (1970), p: 753. See also R. Hale, "La comunione anglicana: chiesa ponte, chiesa sorella," Vita Monastica l October 1978), pp. 3-11. 504 / Review for Religious, l/olume 39, 1980/4 munion of the several distinct dimensions of his being (for instance: body, mind, spirit) centered in Christ. It is also a model of what every community ideally would be--the unique personality of each safeguarded in the one pro-found intercommunion in Christ. The contemplative certainly needs the ecumenical vision. But the contemplative also has a vision: his glimpse of that communion which binds the Son to the Father in the one Spirit. And that one primordial communion is the source and measure of the ecclesial communion we seek; the prayer is often enough cited, but it deserves continual remeditation, for it sums up the contemplative and the ecumenical hope: "Father, that they may all be one, as you are in me and I in you, so also may they be in us" (Jn 17:21). REPRINTS FROM TIlE REVIEW "A Method for Eliminating Method in Prayer," H. F. Smith, S.J . 30 "An Apostolic Spirituality for the Ministry of Social Justice," M. Ollva, S.J . 50 "Celibate Genitality," W. F. Kraft . 50 "Colloquy of God with a Soul that Truly Seeks Him" . . 30 "Consciousness Examen," G. A. Aschenbrenner, S.J . 50 "Hidden in Jesus Before the Father," G. A. Aschenbrenner, S.J . 50 "Prayer of Personal Reminiscence," D. J. Hassel, S.J . 60 "Profile of the Spirit: A Theology of Discernment of Spirits," J. R. Sheets, S.J . 50 "The 'Active-Contemplative' Problem," D. M. Knight .75 "The Contemporary Spirituality of the Monastic Lectio," ¯ M. Neuman, O.S.B . 50 "The Four Moments of Prayer," J. R. Sheets, S.J . 50 "The Healing of Memories," F. Martin . 35 "The Nature and Value of a Directed Retreat," H. F. Smith, S.J . 35 Orders for the above should be sent to: Review for Religious Room 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, MO 63108 Please include 75¢ postage and handling charge with pre-paid orders. An Apostolic Spirituality for the Ministry of Social Justice I1: Community, Prayer and Eucharist Max Oliva, S.J. Father Oliva recently completed seven years as Director of Social Ministries for the California Province of the Society of Jesus. He is now Coordinator-Facilitator of Companions for Justice, a summer program of insertion with the poor for Jesuit priests and brothers. This summer he will be conduciing workshops on faith' and justice for laity, religious, students, seminarians, educators and people who work in social ministry. He continues to reside at the Jesuit School of Theology at Berkeley; 1735 LeRoy Ave.; Berkeley, CA 94709. Introduction' The author pointed out in Part I of this article2 that we are called to the ministry of social justice by Jesus Christ, who works with us and whose Spirit is the source of our courage, wisdom, power and hope. It is God who must be the center of our lives, the focal point of our iden-tity: God's personal love for us is the basis of our worth. One writer expresses it this way: Christianity is such a radical and sweeping counter-stance to accepted standards and ways of action that the couiage it requires can only come from the security that is founded in being loved as sons and daughters of God. Only if we are firmly founded in dependence on God's love can we be willing to take the risks and suffer the pain involved ' The author is indebted to Father Bill Spohn, S.J., Assistant Professor of Theological Ethics at the Jesuit School of Theology at Berkeley, for his helpful comments in the preparation of this article. 2 Part I of "An Apostolic Spirituality for the Ministry of Social Justice" appeared in the September, 1977, issue of Review for Religious. 505 506 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/4 in really living out our Christian call to love others as compassionately and completely as Jesus does? . If God is the center of our lives, we can be people of unconditional trust, trust that transcends our fears of getting involved in justice issues, trust that looks beyond our uncertainties and insecurities, our skepticism and lack of belief, even what is reasonable or logical. It is unconditional trust in the loving power of God. Abraham had this trust: "I will make you a great nation and I will bless you and your descendants." Abraham went as the Lord directed him." (Gn 12:2,4) Mary also had this unconditional trust: "The angel said, 'You have found favor with God. You shall conceive a son and give him the name Jesus.' . Mary responded: 'I am the servant of the Lord. Let it be done to me as you say.' " (Lk 1:30,31,38) Each believed that nothing is im-possible with God. Each entrusted even though they had no idea what the future would bring. So it is unconditional trust that God's promise will be fulfilled through us, that God does not call us to do more than we are capable of, and that he is with us as we follow his call whether it be to enter into the lives of the materially poor or to encounter unjust social structures and those who manage them. Community In our faith commitment to justice, we depend on other people for challenge and support. Community may mean the members of one's family, selected friends, or a religious congregation. Our community may consist of those we live with as well as our "extended community," that is, people out-side one's immediate living situation, men and women, who more explicitly share a similar commitment to justice with us. Whatever the shape community takes for us, other people are indispensable if we are to be continually re-freshed and empowered to act for justice. In regards to the ministry of social justice, the author has found certain values in community to be important for an effective ongoing commitment'. In some ways, one can say that charity, or justice, begins at home, where we learn to value people above issues, where we learn to respect and trust dif-ferent ways of responding to the injustices of our world. However, it can also be said that the change~ that happen in us when we enter into another culture (be it ethnic or the culture of poverty)-- losing our fears, working through our insecurities and feelings of repugnance in a new environment, being freed from our prejudices--enable us to be more loving to the "difficult" people we live with, the sick, the aged, the lonely, the alcoholic, thehard to get along with. We go out to,the poor .where we are enriched by them and return to com-munity where we are better able to enrich others and invite them to become more involved in the struggle for justice. ~ St. Mary Seraphim, P.C~P.A., review of A Transformed Mind and Heart--Becoming Vulnerable and Compassionate, by Joseph Breaull, in Spiritual Life, Fall 1979, p.183. A Spirituality for the Ministry of Social Justice: H / 507' In order to effectively call one another to a faith justice commitment demands that our relationships be reciprocal: mutual trust and respect, open-ness to be challenged as well as to challenge, presuming goodwill on the part of the other, and inviting one another to go beyond the comfort of one's present degree or manner of commitment. One needs realistic expectations in looking to another's progress, an ability to rejoice in.small victories and enough self-insight to realize from one's own heart how intricate and demanding the pro-cess of conversion is even in regards to seemingly "little" things. Some people are more aggressive than others in promoting justice in their community. The one whose posture it is to confront others needs to be com-passionate in his br her attitude and behavior towards the other. Like Jesus, he or she will not "break a bruised reed or quench a smoldering wick" (Mt 12:22). On the other hand, other people are more low-key in their approach, one might even say timid at times. They may need to push themselves to speak out for the materially poor or for issuesof peace. Each approach needs to find its balance that the Lord may more clearly be known and the kingdom be furthered. It sometimes happens that the more aggressive approach opens up the door for the more gentle person to enter the scene. As one whose own style is low-key, it is the author's experience that he is often invited to present ideas on social justice in situations where a more confrontative approach has proved fruitless. This is especially the case when the person or group is at the begin-ning stage of a commitment to justice. It frequently happens in community that a "pioneer~type person"--the first one into a new field or apostolic endeavor--is tempted to bitterness and withdrawal because of a perceived lack of support from his or her own col-leagues. This is certainly true in the area of actions for peace and justice. What is actually often occurring is a fear and defensiveness on the part of those not similarly involved, that what they do and standfor is somehow under attack or being devalued. Take, for example, the case of a woman religious who belongs to a congregation which has traditionally taught in schools. She asks fora different kind of ministry, to work in a low-income area as a parish sister or to become a lawyer and work.with the materially poor. She may appear a threat to the other sisters without even being conscious of it much less deliberately trying to achieve' it. She needs to be aware of the possible effects of her seemingly "radical" move, not to discourage her from following her call, but to prevent her from becoming marginal with her congregation. The pioneer needs to transcend his or her own uncomfortable feelings toward the community and reach out to the others in an ~honest request for support. Such an attitude and stance is likely not to polarize, but to touch hearts in compas-sion and reconciliation. Mutual support and education are much more likely to result. Community can be an excellent vehicle for calling forth the best that is in us and helping us to realize and own our gifts. One value of having different 508 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/4 approaches to the ministry of social justice in a community is that others help us to clarify our own way of responding. It is the author's experience that a real help to enhancing the contribution of community is some form of group process. Group meetings can take the form of discussions of sensitive issues, such as, communal and personal life-style, or how to support a community member who out of conscience has decided to perform an act of civil disobedience and risks jail. Community gatherings can be used for the purpose of sharing one's faith and the motiva-tion one has in acting for justice. A meeting may be the kind of forum necessary for a member of the community to share his or her fears of acting for justice or the vulnerability one is experiencing in acting for justice. It is helpful in such a process not to be anxious over the seeming lack of "measured results," but to learn to.be at peace with the process, even the pain that others may be experiencing or the struggle that the group is undergoing. Some groups may find it helpful to bring in non-community people as resources, such as those who are materially poor or those who are involved in actions for justice. Whatever the actions of the individuals in community or the community itself, reflection on these efforts in the light of faith protects us from either harsh actions in the name of "justice" or misguided sentimentality in the name of religion. The Eucharist To gather together in worship is the most profound way we express ourselves communally. Liturgy, whether eucharistic or not, unites us to one another and to our God and to the poor and oppressed in the world in a unique way. Let us take a few moments to consider the Eucharist. We believe that Jesus Christ is really present in the Eucharist. In the Eucharist we are united with Christ in a special way and with the Father through Christ. In our commitment to justice we are called to image Jesus in his own commitment. He identified himself with the poor and the marginated of his day and challenged those who had much to share themselves with those who had little. We receive in the Eucharist the same Christ who received the mission to "bring good news to the poor, to proclaim'liberty to the captives, recovery of sight to the blind, and freedom for the oppressed" (Lk 4:18). God is the source of our compassion and our commitment to justice. We are to be "perfect as our heavenly Father is perfect" (Mr 5:48): loving, merciful, just. We come to the eucharistic table aware that we are not self-sufficient, that we need courage and commitment beyond our own ability and desire to be so. We are empowered to be Christ in our world through the nourishment that is the Eucharist. The Eucharist, however, is not simply a private devotion or only a per-sonal experience of the presence of God. It is personally strengthening, to be sure, if approached with openness and faith, but it is also outer-directed to the community gathered at each Eucharist and to the whole world. The Eucharist A Spirituality for the Ministry of Social Justice: H / 509 is global vision, for it is the Redemptive Act for the whole of humanity. It is not only at the center of our lives as Christians but also at the center of the world. The Eucharist is at the center of our commitment to social justice. It calls us out of ourselves to be like Jesus who gave himself in love and in total self-surrender to his friends. The Eucharist is self-gift, an open-ended gift of ourselves, for the many. The eucharistic table becomes the starting point of a great revolution, and the victims of this revolution are those who share the Eucharist. It is a call for a change of hearts, not a revolution in which the blood of others is shed, but one's own.4 Although it is undeniable that eucharistic celebrations build community among those who participate in them, Eucharist also calls us out to the suffer-ing people in our world, oppressed and oppressor alike. We are invited to be the Body of Christ, to be his memory in the world, to be his Body given for the many and his Blood poured out for the many.s Gospel values and realities relevant to the faith that does justice are abun-dantly present in the Eucharist. We begin our act of worship by acknowledg-ing to one another and to our brothers and sisters everywhere our complicity in the injustices of our time, both our personal sin and our lack of concern and commitment to changing indifferent and unjust social structures. We face our fears and timidity, our temptations to doubt and discouragement, our tenden-cies to try to do good without God, our temptations to build our identity in our works for justice, and we ask that the liberating power of God free us from whatever enslaves and paralyzes us. We ask too for reconciliation with our oppressed brothers and sisters whose hope in a more just world is to some degree dependent on our efforts to achieve justice. The Old and New Testaments challer~ge and invite us to participate in the liberating efforts of our time, to do justice, to bring good news to the poor, to proclaim liberty to captives, to give to the blind new sight, and to set the downtrodden free. The Scriptures motivate us and support us in our efforts to transcend our own interest and to follow the call of God to universal compas-sion and solidarity, a call that influences how we act and how we live. The Eucharist helps us to a more fundamental identification with the materially poor and powerless as we cohtemplate Jesus identifying himself with the poor and the hungry. "In the Eucharist we receive Christ hungering in the world. He comes to us, not alone, but with the poor, the oppressed, the starving of the earth. Through him, they are looking to us for help, for justice, for love expressed in action. Therefore we cannot properly receive the Bread of Life unless at the same time we give bread for life to those in need wherever and whoever they may be.''6 ' Samuel Rayan, S.J., "Feeding of the Five-thousand: A Meditation," Religion and Society, Volo XX, No. 1, March 1973, pp. 5-7. ~ Ibid. ~ Pedro Arrupe, S.J~, "The Hunger for Bread and Evangelization," Address to the 41st Inter-national Eucharistic Congress, 1976, p. 1. 510 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/4 In a world that spawns alienation and various forms of dehumanization, the community that gathers around the table of the Lord speaks eloquently of other realities: true sisterhood and brotherhood, that the glory of God is people fully alive, human dignity, and the positive value of human develop-ment--. both materially and spiritually. The Eucharist calls us to accountability and responsibility for our world in a commitment that is rooted in the solitude of our hearts. Prayer The importance of prayer in a life dedicated to the faith lhat does justice cannot be overemphasized. There are so many forces and attractions that endeavor to steer one away from a consistent commitment to justice. Beyond one's occasional fears and hesitations to become involved, there are the anguish of those who are oppressed which can promote our :compassion but also tempt us to despair .and the obdurateness of social structures and the self-interest of those who manage them which can overwhelm and paralyze us. There are. also temptations to think that one is the Messiah and feelings of being rejected by one's community and friends when their commitment is dif-ferent from our own, which can result in bitterness and alienation. There are the temptations to permanent withdrawal from the struggle for justice or the tendency to opt for the values and life-style that one has spent a good deal of time.and effort opposing--the "good life." Prayer is essential if God is to re-main: the center of our commitment to justice. It is in the quiet moments .of prayer that we discover who our center is, our loving God or the idols that threaten to divert our attention and our commitment. Prayer--God's presence to us and our presence to God--is a key means~of deepening our relationship with the One who calls us to the ministry of faith and justice and of coming to know ourselves with true self-knowledge. However, just as the Eucharist has both a vertical and a horizontal dimen-sion so must our life of prayer: Our union with God leads us to loving service of the b.rothers,and sisters, and nourishes that commitment. Thomas Cullinan writes about it in this way: One df the great classical portrayals of the Buddh~ shows him sitting in the normal lotus position with his left hand upturned, holding a begging bowl, and his right hand resting on the other knee with one finger pointing down to earth. The left hand, the begging bowl, represents the need for enlightenment. The other hand, resting, poihting down to earth, represents the need for us to be embedded and realistic in the human condition in which we find ourselves. We cannot live anywhere other than where God has asked us to live. Any man of faith can tell one that the tension set up between these two hands, the tension between the need for enlightenment arid serious appreciation of the world we are in, is bound to cause great suffering, great loneliness. We can escape from this tension of living faith by taking the right hand of involvement, or the left hand of enlightenment, to the exclusion of the other. With the right hand; for instance, we can seek to be so relevant to our world that we finish up as humanists with a A Spirituality for ?he Ministry of Social Justice." mere Christian overlay. On the other left hand we can escape the tension-of living faith by constructing for ourselves an alternative society, a special world of Christians who have set UP something alternative to the world in which God has placed them., missing perhaps t~he central point of incarnafi.on.' We can escape the tension of living faith by making of our prayer a private experience of enthusiastic pietism that has no relevance to the political reality in which we live. 'True prayer leads us out of ourselves to be Christ in our world and discover him in others. The same can be said of mysticism as William Johnston writes: Authentic mystical experience necessarily brings with it a great love for all mankind. It can lead to remarkably deep friendship and intimacy in those who share the same ex-perience; it also leads to a great compassion for the poor, the sick, the oppressed, the downtrodden, the imprisoned, the underprivileged . This union or solidarity with the poor and the oppressed is of the very essence of Chrisiian mysticism.8 Prayer is essential for an effective ministry of faith and justice and for the ongoing integration process that is involved. We need, as Bryan Hehir points out, a sense of history as we go about our ministry of justice, a Christian sense of history that has in it the following dimensions: Ultimate success is the eschaton, every work done for justice is redemptive, the Cross marks every great work in the Church, and the risen life governs our perspective.9 Our times of reflection and solitude give us the opportunity to keep this sense and vision of history alive in our hearts. There are many forms of prayer and it is not the intent of this article to ex-plore in any depth the differ6nt ways one can pray. Obviously, shared prayer can be a very enriching experience, a chance to be strengthened in our mutual commitment and an opportunity to recogiaize and value our different insights and ways of responding to injustice. The author has found an annual retreat especially helpful in keeping one centered on the call of God and aware of one's tendencies to enslavement. Some form of ongoing spiritual direction, whether one does this primarily by means of a journal;and occasional sharing with a friend or by means of regular contact with a spiritual director, is a necessary component to one's prayer life, keeping a sense of objectivity and realism alive. We have already touched on the Eucharist which is a profound way of praying. - Not only is an unexamined life not worth living, it is dangerous. The forces of evil as they are embodied in unjust structures and the sinfulness of men and women are more powerful than us, even with our sophisticated tools of social ' Thomas Cullinan, O.S.B., lfthe Eye Be Sound (London, England: St. Paul Publications, 1975), pp. 56-58. * William Johnston, S.J., The Inner Eye of Love (New York: Harper and Row, 1978), p. 132. ' Ft. Bryan Hehir, "The Ministry for Justice," Network Quarterly, Vo. II, No. 3, Summer 1974, p. 4. 512 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/4 analysis. We need these tools, but even more basically we need union with God in prayer. God's love for us and our world and our growing realization of this personal concern of God gives us the hope and joy that we need to persevere with integrity in the struggle for a more just and human world. Conclusion Community-- Eucharist-- Prayer, each is necessary if we are to live on the level of meaning and not simply on the level of measured productivity or documented results. It is easy in the ministry of faith and justice to get so caught up in the latest issue or in the myriad of justice issues so as to lose the vision of why we are involved, a response to God's call to help build the kingdom. We need the support and challenge of friends. We depend on the nourishment that comes to us in the Eucharist. We rely on the guidance of the Holy Spirit whom we come into contact with in our prayer. God is the center of our commitment to social justice; it is God who calls us out of ourselves to be loving servants of others. Now Available As Reprint An Apostolic Spirituality for the Ministry of Social Justice by Max Oliva, S.J. Price: $.50 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 Understanding the Biblical Symbols for Life Peter J. Kearney Father Kearney teaches Sacred Scripture. His address is The Catholic University of America; School of Religious Studies; Department of Theology; Washington, D.C. 20064. For those who seek to explore how the Bible relates the inner life to active ministry, reflection on the biblical symbols for life can provide rich discoveries. Symbols touch the deeper levels of the human person, the well-springs for both contemplation and action. It is frequently through symbols that the Scriptures speak, unfolding them and interrelating them to draw us into greater awareness of the life speaking within ourselves and to fruitful sharing of this word in ministry. The very first chapter of the Bible describes the origins of life and employs a paradox which sets the tone for many of the reflections that here follow: to live isto be active, but to live fully is simultaneously to be at rest. In creating, God first sets the stage for the appearance of living things. When the "living creatures" come on the fifth and sixth days, the earth is marked by activity and motion. On the seventh day, God is at rest, but with his work completed he is now most fully active, sustaining in creation all that he has made, for creation is a process that is ever continuing, ever renewed (see Ps 104, esp. vss. 27-30), He sustains his creation and remains always at rest, for he never grows weary (Is 40:21-28). He wills that his human creation share his repose, which is really a fullness of life (Ex 31:16-17; Is 40:29-31). Life and Kingship The above-mentioned texts from Genesis, Exodus and Isaiah all come from a relatively late period in Israel's history (the Babylonian Exile in the 513 514 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/4 sixth century B.C.), but they express ancient ideas on life which had earlier been associated with the royal dynasty of David. The one who most expressed the fullness of life on this earth was the king. For he had asked God for life and God "gave him length of days forever and ever" (Ps 21:5). The poetry of the psalms could attribute divine qualities to the king because he mediated God's blessings to the people and his rule, when properly carried out, expressed God's harmonious ordering of the universe (see Ps 72). Here Israel borrowed from a much more elaborate royal theology in Egypt, where the pharaoh was divinized to a far greater degree. In Egypt, the pharaoh could be regarded as a source of life in his kingdom because a di,vine spirit had been breathed into him by a god and this spirit became the power by which the pharaoh ruled.' This spirit issued in royal pronounce'rnents by which the life of Egypt was sustained. Likewise in Israel, in ideal conditions, the land could be at rest as though it were paradise itself, because the spirit of the Lord "rested" upon the king and enabled him to pronounce decrees which brought justice to the weak but death to the wicked (Is 11:1-9; see also 2 S 23:1-4). Such thinking clarifies the background of Genesis 2 and 3, where the creation and fall of man, while describing human nature in general, is actually a theology of Israelite kingship.2 The coronation of a king was his "being raised up from the dust" (1 K 16:2), just as Adam was formed from the dust of the earth (Gn 2:7).3 Like a king, Adam received the spirit or "breath of life" (Gn 2:7) and then could share in the divine rule, symbolized by his naming the animals (Gn 2:19-20). But unlike the pharaohs or other ancient kings who im-itated them, the Israelite king could make no claims to divinity and thus he was not to eat from the tree of the knowledge of all things, a property of God alone.' The narrative of Adam's failure to obey and his consequent expulsion from paradise is probably a polemic against the abuses of kingship perpetrated by Solomon, who patterned his absolute authority too closely on the Egyptian model. The story also opposes the pagan concept that a superior kind of knowledge (Gn 3:6) was available to those who sought communion with divine powers through the sexual practices of the Canaanite nature wor-ship. Thus the earth yields its fruits only to man's toil (Gn 3:17-19) and not because of the magical rites of the Canaanites. For the king, as for humans in general, the true wisdom is in knowing oneself as a creature of God and rejoic-ing in this condition. ' See W. Wifall, "The Breath and His Nostrils; Gn 2:7b," Catholic Biblical Quarterly 36 (1974), pp. 237-240~ 2 See W. Brueggemann, "David and His Theologian," Catholic Biblical Quarterly 30 (1968), pp. 156-181. ~ See W. Bruggemann, "From Dust to Kingship," Zeitschrift far die Alttestamentliche Wissenscttaft 84 (1972), pp. 1-18. ' See I. Engnell, " 'Knowledge' and 'Life' in the Creation Story" in M. Noth and D. Thomas (eds.), Wi~sdom in Israel and in the Ancient Near East (Supplements to Vetus Testamentum, 3; Leiden: Brill, 1969), pp. 103-119~ Understanding the Biblical Symbols for Life The results of Adam's failu~ ~ire expressedas a life of wearisome toil upon an earth which resists man's efforts (Gn 3:17-19), a life of exile (Gn 3:23:24). Similarly, weariness, the disturbance of proper order and ultimately exile from the land could be readily associated with the failure of kingship. The prophet Isaiah,could accuse King Achaz of "wearying" both God and man through his failure to trust (Is 7:13). David may have had himself once crowned like a god (2 S 12:30), but his failure to maintain peace within his own family would lead to his own exile from Jerusalem in a procession of almost paralyzed weariness (2 S 15:14-16:14)5 which symbolized the disturbed order of the kingdom. But when the kingship functioned properly, it was as though the land itself had become paradise, and rest was restored. Such a state was symbolized through the figure of Noah (whose name sounds like the Hebrew word for "rest").~ The peaceful rule of the king was expressed figuratively through his holding the waters of chaos in check (Pss 72:8 and 89:26). In the story of Noah, the waters of chaos subside and creation is begun anew (Gn 9:7). God's eternal covenant with Noah (Gn 9:16) symbolizes the Davidic covenant (2 S 23:5), part of God's order in creation (Ps 89:35-38). Light and Truth A further significant borrowing from Egyptian thought was expressed in the Israelite use of sun imagery. In Egypt, the sun was worshipped as the source and sustainer of life. In paintings and carvings, the sun disc was pic-tured with wings, as though it were a huge bird making.its daily flight across the sky, There are traces of such imagery in Israelite poetry.7 When the Israelites were making their way through the desert after the Exodus, God was said to have "spread his wings to receive them," carrying them triumphantly forward (Dt 32:11). Here the symbol of eagle wings is applied to God because the extremely high flight of theeagle made it the most likely bird to provide the symbolism for the wings of the sun. Such metaphor was intended to express the desert period of Israel as a life-giving experience, through the use of the natural symbol for the source of life, the sun. Much later, during the period of the Babylonian Exile, similar imagery could be used to mark the end of exile and therefore of weariness: just as the eagle's long life was imaginatively thought to be due to his high flight near the rays of the sun, similarly "they that hope in the Lord will renew their strength, they will soar as with eagles' wings; they will run and not grow weary, walk and not grow faint" (Is 40:31). The symbol of the wings of God becomes particularly rich in a number of ' R. Whybray, The Succession Narrative: A Study of !i S 9-20 and 1 K I and 2 (Studies in Biblical Theology, Second Series, 9; Naperville: Allenson, 1968), p. 46. 6 See W. Brueggemann, "Weariness, Exile and Chaos (A Motif in Royal Theology)," Catholic Biblical Quarterly 34 (1972), pp. 19-38. ' See J. Murtagh, "Under the Shadow ofthy Wings," TheBible Today, no. 32, November 1967, pp. 2229-2232. 516 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/4 the psalms. Even though during the religious reform of King Josiah, sun sym-bols were removed from the Jerusalem temple (2 K 23:11), some managed to survive in the hymns which were sung in that temple. For example, Psalm 61 presents the king at prayer (see vs. 7), asking that God give him "rest" and place him "high upon a rock" (the royal throne, see vs. 8); he expresses his longing to take refuge in the shadow of God's wings, thus poetically attributing the life-giving rays of the sun to God, and presenting himself as the one filled with life from God, much as was the pharaoh who transmitted the life-giving rays of the sun to the people by means of his wise and effective rule.8 Elsewhere the pilgrim psalmist rejoices to see the sparrows and swallows sheltering their young in nests built on the temple (Ps 84:4). No doubt this sight specially touched him because it paralleled.his own relationship to God, whom he calls in this same psalm "a sun and a shield" (vs. 12). Such a background clarifies Jesus' complaint against Jerusalem "How often 1 wanted to gather your children together as a mother bird collects her young under her wings, and you refused me" (Lk 1,3:34). Jesus in effect was calling the people to recognize that the life-giving Presence of God which they had associated with the Temple was actually found in him. Because they did not recognize this, their temple would be abandoned (vs. 35). Luke here approaches the theology of John, whose prophecy about the destruction of the Temple contained an allusion to the raising up of the real Temple, the body of Jesus (Jn 2:19-21). Just as the sun is a natural symbol for life, so its brilliance aptly suggests the clarity of knowledge and truth. Thus light can signify the experience of revelation, a sensing of God's personal presence in the temple. In Psalm 36, the author praises God's goodness in having "the children of men take refuge in the shadow of your wings" and exclaims "in your light we see light," that is, the people draw their life from the living God in his temple (vss. 8, 10). In Psalm 27, the king calls God "my light" upon whose loveliness he wishes to gaze in the temple, in an experience of revelation so intimate that it can be described as face-to-face encounter (vss. 4, 8, 9) with One whose tenderness lasts even though that of father and mother might fail (vs. 10). The light of knowledge can also reveal God more indirectly through the maxims of human wisdom and the revealed word of God expressed in Israel's laws and religious traditions. In the case of wisdom thought, Egypt once more supplied a mythological theme, the person of Maat, daughter of the sun god Ra and goddess of justice, order and harmony. She is probably the source for the feminine personification of wisdom in Proverbs 8 and 9, where she invites the youthful-Israelite to come learn of her wisdom contained throughout the book of Proverbs.9 Her pagan origins from the sun express the theme of light s For the role of pharaoh, see, for example, "The Hymn to the Aton" in J. Pritchard (ed.), An-cient Near Eastern Texts Relating to the Old Testament (Princeton University, 1955), pp. 369-37 I. ° See N. Habel, "The Symbolism of Wisdom in Pr I-9" Interpretation 26 (1972), pp. 131-157. Understanding the Biblical Symbols for Life / 517 as the knowledge and wisdoha ~hrough wtiicli mhn can integrate himself into ¯ the universe, which the brilliance of the sun seems to unite in a harmonious whole. This wisdom in the book of Proverbs sometimes appears to be merely practical advice about how to get along in life (e.g., Pr 23), but it is in fact the expression of a deeply moral sense.'° The light of life penetrates deep within man: "A lamp from the Lord is the breath of man: it searches through all his inmost being" (Pr 20:27). Similarly, the light of God's knowledge touches the recesses of man's moral life, penetrating deep in his heart: "The nether world and the abyss lie open before the Lord; how much more the hearts of men" (Pr 16:11). In this saying, the scribe profits from the symbol of the sun apparently going into the world of darkness each evening and uses it to present an image of God seeing deep into the heart of each one. In Psalm 139, the king marvels at this intimate knowledge of him which God possesses (vss. 1-6) and then applies solar attributes to God," praising his brilliance and his omnipresence (vss. 7-12). God's knowledge awakens in the king a strong sense of moral obligation to which he professes his conscience has remained faithful (vss. 23-24). This joining of divine solar imagery and the human response of virtuous practice can be found also in Psalm 112, reen forc-ing the understanding that life has an intrinsically moral dimension. Such thought is echoed in Jesus' words about light as a symbol for personal morali-ty: "The eye is the body's lamp. If your eyes are good, your body will be filled with light; if your eyes are bad, your body will be in darkness. And if your light is darkness, how deep will the darkness be!" (Lk 6:22-23). The Old Testament association between wisdom, morality and light is also distantly echoed in the Epistle of James, which calls God "the Father of~the heavenly luminaries" (Jm 1:17), who gives a "wisdom from above" (3:17), expressed in the moral counsels which pervade the epistle. Israelite thought also applied such language not merely to a general theory of human life, but also to the wisdom which it possessed in its own peculiar religious traditions, grouped under the general heading "law." With regard to specifically legal traditions, just as the Babylonian king, Hammurabi, presented his lawcode as written in obedience to the sun god,'2 so the Israelite king could regard the laws by which he ruled as expressing the wisdom and life-giving power symbolized.by the sun. In Psalm 19, the king describes the harmonious unity of the world, in particular the path of the sun across the sky (vss. 2-7) and then praises the divine precepts as filled with the qualities of the sun: "refreshing the soul., giving wisdom., rejoicing the heart., enlighten-ing the eye., enduring forever" (vss. 8-10). To move beyond the merely legal ,o R. Murphy, "Introduction to Wisdom Literature," Jerome Biblical Commentary (Englewood Cliffs: Prentice-Hall, 1968), 28:8. ~'J. Holman, "Analysis of the Text of Ps 139" (Biblische Zeitschrift 14 (1970), p. 225. ,2 See "The Code of Hammurabi" in Pritchard (ed.) Ancient Near Eastern Texts, p. 163. 518 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/4 traditions, the prophet Ezekiel was no doubt alluding to this same psalm when he said the word of God was "as sweet as honey" (compare Ps 19:11 and Ezk 3:3).' Even though it was a word of doom (Ezk 2:10), upon itdepended the life of both sinner andjust and even Ezekiel himself (3:18-21). Similarly, the legal and historical Israelite traditions in the Book of Deuteronomyhave life-giving properties.Since Deuteronomy represents the religious reform of Josiah and his attempt to purify Israelite religion of its pagan associations, sun sym-bolism is muted here. Moses warns specifically against worship of the sun or any of the celestial bodies (Dt 4:19), but the ancient symbolic association between sunlight and truth is still discernible in his words. Moses' rhetorical challenge to seek through the days of old sii~ce creation and "from one end of the sky to the other" alludes to the eternal path of the sun through the heavens (Dr 4:32); in this same chapter, he has the nations themselves profess that the traditions in Deuteronomy are a sign both of God's intimate relationship with his people and of their great wisdom, two themes traditionally associated with sun symbolism (Dr 4:6-7). Such language prepares for Moses telling the Israelites that there is no need to seek God's command up in "the sky or across the sea; it is rather in their own mouths and hearts (Dt 30: l 1-14). In effect, there is no need to follow the path of the sun, as symbolic source of wisdom. The laws of Deuteronomy, which the people will have thoroughly learned, embody the wisdom they need. Thus Moses can exhort them to "choose life" (30:19), that is, to assimilate the life-giving property which the traditions of Deuteronomy contain. Against this remote background of solar imagery, several aspects of John's gospel are clarified. The entire work conveys a sense of repose, of li.fe in its fullness, possessed by Jesus and communicated to his disciples, Jesus is in the Father and the Father is in him (10:38) and Jesus promises that they will both dwell within the one who is faithful to Jesus' word (14:23). His fullness of life is paradoxically expressed through Jesus' word (14:23). His fullness of life is paradoxically expressed through Jesus' complete control of the cir-cumstances, which surround his death. Gone from this gospel is the agony in the garden. Jesus tranquilly goes to face his captors (18:4-9) and'ultimately bows his head after a solemn proclamation that his work was finished (19:30). John allows the s6tting of Jesus' death to be permeated with an atmosphere of life, thus' giving dramatic expression to his theology that the raising up of Jesus on the cross was simultaneously a raising up to glory (8:27; 12:32), that his death is a source of life(l 2:24). In addition, the protective presence of God which had been revealed to Israelites in the temple is now revealed in Jesus. This presence had been announced during liturgy in Old Testament times by formulas such as "l, the Lord, am your God" (Ex 20:2) and "I am the first and I am the last" (Is 44:6); throughout John's gospel Jesus echoes such expressions, identifying himself, for example, as the Vine, the Good Shepherd, the Resurrection and Life and thus conveys that the life-giving presence of God in the temple is now to be found in Jesus' own person. Seeing Understanding the Biblical Symbols for Life God in the temple now happens in a new way, for one can look upon Jesus and see the Father (14:9). Of course, the themes of light and life repeatedly inter-twine throughout John's gospel. As in the Old Testament, this light is closely related to knowledge, revelation and truth; also, this truth has a strong moral dimension, for the light which Jesus brings is expressed in what the Father has commanded (12:46-50) and those who are loved by the Father obey the com-mandments Jesus gives (14:21), all summarized in the commandment of love 05:9-17). Just as the Israelite king ruled with justice (Ps 72), so Jesus associates his own kingship with the truth which is a life-filled communion with God: ". I am a king., the reason why I came into the world is to testify to the truth" (Jn 18:37). The.moral dimension of truth is further expressed by speaking of the light as showing the way one should walk (l 1:9-10; 12:35-36). It receives its fullest formulation when Jesus proclaims that he is the Way, the Truth and the Life (14:6), thus indicating that union with God reaches its fullness through union with the person of the risen Jesus. Implied in this union is a sharing in the "sabbath rest" of God himself, a life-filled, activity-filled rest which belongs unceasingly to Jesus, who revealed on a sabbath day that "My Father is at work until now, and I am at work as well" (5:17). Several other New Testament Passages express a similar theology of life, among them Jesus' praise of his Father and invitation to his disciples in Mt 11:25-30. Jesus proclaims the mutual knowledge between Father and Son, suggesting the intimacy frequently found in the gospel of John. As in this lat-ter gospel, the Son can reveal the Father to those whom he wishes (Mt 11:27). He then offers to the weary a promise of refreshment and rest, which is actually a fullness of life. Speaking after the manner of ancient kings, Jesus proclaims his gentleness in ruling, and by means of the symbol of a yoke, invites his followers to obey his commandments, much as he does more explicitly in the gospel of John. In Matthew, the teaching of Jesus is likened to a "yoke," a symbol which stands for the discipline needed to achieve wisdom (Si 51:26) and which reenforces the association between Jesus' commands and the truth. Also in the gospel of Mark, Jesus holds out an invitation to his disciples to come with him and rest (6:31). One might think that the crowds who then followed Jesus were disturbing this rest, but they rather come and share in it. Here Mark subtly alludes to Psalm 23, in which the king, shepherd of his people, proclaims that the Lord is his own shepherd who gives him rest in green pastures, saving him from the darkness which is the threat of enemy powers and showing him the right paths by which he may govern the kingdom in justice. The king celebrates this intimate relationship with God in the tem-ple, where a festive banquet is spread before him. In Mark 6:30-44, these themes are echoed as Jesus looks with pity on the crowds who are like sheep without a shepherd. He teaches them at great length; we are to understand that his words are a source of life to them, parallel to the wise proclamation of 520 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/4 the ancient kings. The meal of bread and fish is distributed as the people are seated on the green grass. Here there is no temple, but the passage retains a liturgical atmosphere, for the meal clearly symbolizes the Eucharist. The peo-ple eat their fill and give symbolic expression to the life-giving property of this sacrament, given, as Jesus elsewhere says, so that the people may not grow weary along the way (Mk 8:3). This scene in Mark 6 can lead in turn back to the gospel of John, for it shows why the theme of the Good Shepherd (Jn 10) is apropos in a gospel concerned with the theme of life in its fullness: "I came that they might have life and have it to the full" (10:10). Food and Water The multiplication of the loaves in Mk'6 also illustrates the association between the word of God spoken by Jesus and food. They can be related inasmuch as they both sustain life. Such a connection can be found in the traditions about Elijah, who announces a drought that will last until he says otherwise (1 K 17:1). However, for the poor widow whom he visits, his word provides a supply of food that will continue through the drought. This story contains the same central theme as that expressed in the subsequent episode, when the prayer of Elijah causes the widow's son to come back to life, namely, the life-giving power of God's word spoken through his servant Elijah. As in Genesis 2-3, there is strong polemic here against the claims of the Canaanite religion to impart life through nature worship.'3 This opposition reaches its greatest intensity when the command given by Elijah spells death for the four hundred Canaanite prophets (1 K 18:40). A similar theology of God's word is probably contained in Exodus 16, where the manna is given in sufficient supply for all, provided the people follow exactly God's instructions for gathering it (vss. 4, 18).'4 The mention of the manna tasting like honey (vs. 31) probably alludes to the sweet taste of God's law proclaimed in Ps 19:11. In Dt 8:3, the link between God's word and the manna is made quite clearly: the Israelites' nourishment with manna was a sign that "not by bread alone does man live, but by every word that comes forth from the mouth of the Lord." Jesus' use of these words during his temptation in the desert (Mt 4:4) shows that his fasting is a symbolic dying, a depriving himself of one means of sus-taining life, so that he might be filled with another, God's word.'~ Such im-agery is also well established in several prophets. Amos likened the absence of God's word to a famine (Am 8:11-12) and Jeremiah spoke of "devouring" the words of God (Jn 15:16); Ezekiel elaborated on Jeremiah's imagery by an '~ See F. Eakin, "Yahwism and Baalism before the Exile," Journal of Biblical Literature 84 0965), pp. 407-414. " For additional material on the symbolic character of Ex 16, see C~ Carmichael, "Deuteronomic Laws, Wisdom, and Historical Traditions," Journal of Semitic Studies 12 (1967), pp. 198-206. '~ On fasting as "dying," see T. Gaster, Thespis: Ritual, Myth and Drama in the Ancient Near East (Anchor Books; Garden City: Doubleday, 1961), pp. 26-34. Understanding the Biblical Symbols for Life / 52"1 allusion to Ps 19 in describing his eating the scroll of God's word and finding it sweet as honey (Ezk 3:3). In John's gospel, Jesus speaks of having food to eat of which his disciples do not know, namely, the doing of his Father's will (Jn 4:32-34). Later, after giving bread and fish to his disciples at the lake shore, he commands Peter to "feed my sheep" (Jn 21:17), a charge which in the context of John's gospel undoubtedly means allowing the sheep to hear the "voice" of the Good Shepherd 00:3-5, 16), much as they heard his teaching in Mark's gospel, when they ate bread and fish supplied by Jesus (Mk 6:34). Such passages establish the close bond between word and sacrament in Christian eucharistic theology, as most clearly expressed when the disciples on the road to Emmaus recog-nized Jesus in the breaking of the bread, but only after having their hearts prepared through Jesus' explanation of the Scriptures (Lk 24:31-32). Israel expressed its reflections on life also through the natural symbol of water. In the creation account of Genesis 2, the stream which waters all the surface of the earth provides the clay from which man is made (vss. 6-7) and a river in Eden is the source of fertility in the garden (vs. 10). This river should be understood as a further specification of the stream in vs. 6, for it divides into four branches (vs. 10), symbolizing the four directions of the earth and thus marking out Eden as the source of life for all the earth. Such symbolism had a concrete application to the Jerusalem temple, which was regarded as a representation of the garden of Eden and thus through poetic imagination was provided with "a stream whose runlets gladden the city of God, the holy dwelling of the Most High" (Ps 46:5). Once again, as with the imagery of the eagle wings, the temple stands as a source of life for the people. The most dramatic elaboration of such symbolisn~ can be found in Ezekiel's vision of the stream which flowed from the temple (Ezk 47) and grew to a mighty river changing the Dead Sea into fresh water filled with fish. The trees along its banks, with their copious fruit and medicinal leaves are an adaptation of'the tree of life from which Adam and Eve were permitted to eat. This association between the temple and healing helps to understand why Israelite liturgy, as a source of life, implied forgiveness of sin in its very performance, a belief against which various prophets struggled when such healing was understood as occurring automatically (e,g., Am 5:21-25; I~ 66:3). Since sunlight and water were both perceived as natural symbols for life, there are several other ways in which water symbolism coincides with that of light, most notably in the role assigned to the king and also to the command-ments of God. In 2 S 23, the images of sun and water coalesce when it is proclaimed that the king "is like the morning light at sunrise on a cloudless morning, making the greensward sparkle after rain" (vs. 4). The state of "rest," a synonym for "life," is associated with water as the king thanks God for leading him "beside restful waters" (Ps 23:2). The state of war is a threat to this rest and so when the king faces enemies, he speaks of himself as af-flicted with a thirst which symbolizes his nearness to death: "My throat is 522 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/4 dried up like baked clay, my tongue cleaves to my jaws; to the dust of death you have brought me down" (Ps 22:16). The natural experience of thirst in battle (see Jg 5:15-19) allows the king to express his desire for victory as a long-ing for water: "As the hind longs for the running waters, so my soul longs for you, O God (Ps 42:2). Do me justice, O God, and fight my fight against a faithless people" (Ps 43: l ; Psalms 42 and 43 were originally a single psalm). ,6 When the victory comes, it can be symbolically expressed through the slaking of the king's thirst: "From the brook by the wayside he will drink; therefore will he lift up his head" (Ps 110:7). The life which he has absorbed, he then transmits to his kingdom through the just exercise of his power: "He shall be like rain coming down on the meadow, like showers watering the earth. Justice shall flower in his days." (Ps 72:6). A just rule is carried out within the framework of just laws, enacted in con-formity with God's will. Thus water symbolism can be readily applied to laws insofar as they are life-giving, particula~'ly so because water is life-giv.ing when it is transformed from a chaotic force into channeled streams and into rainfall that comes in the proper, well-ordered time. Thus in Genesis 1, life can begin upon the earth once the chaotic waters have been assigned their proper place (Gn 1:6-11). In similar fashion, several psalms contrast the tumultuous primeval waters with the life-giving streams and rains which result from the divine ordering of the seas (Pss 46:3-6; 65:8-14; 104:5-18). Thus the decrees of God, ordering the life of man, can be compared to life-giving water. When Moses changed the bitter waters into fresh because he followed the directions of God, his action could be joined to the notice that the Lord there gave the Israelites laws which would let them.experience his life-giving healing power (Ex 15:22-26). Later on, an episode in the area of Horeb, the place for receiv-ing commandments from God, seems to have been transformed by an editor into a scene at the Jerusalem temple (Ex 17:1-16). The water from the rock at Horeb symbolizes both the commands of God and the water associated with the mountain of the Lord in Jerusalem (see Ps 46:5). MoseS seated high on a rock with his arms outstretched and growing weary resembles the king in the psalms, enthroned on a high rock and stretching forth his arms in prayer as he grows weary against his enemies (Pss 61:3; 62:5; 143:6-7). Just as in these psalms the king places his hope in a faithful following of God's will, so the people receive their strength from faithfulness to God's commands, symbol-ized by the water from Horeb. Such theology is quite close to that of the prophet Isaiah, who combined in his own fashion the themes of water, rest, and trustful adherence to the com-mands of God. For Isaiah, the gently flowing waters of Shiloah, which sup-plied Jerusalem with water and perhaps also suggested to him the motif of the See note on Psalm 42-43 in the New American Bible {Paterson: St. Anthony Guild, 1970). Understanding the Biblical Symbols for Life / 523 "stream flowing from the Temple," symbolized the quiet trust of faith which was a source of life for Israel; because the people rejected this gentle stream, the waters of the Euphrates River, that is the destructive power of Assyria, would engulf them with its chaotic force (8:6-8). Jerusalem was meant to be a place of rest for the weary, that is, a center of life for the people (28:12), but the king of Judah rejected faith and thus brought weariness (7:13). This rest could be achieved if only the king would cease seeking aid from foreign powers (30:2, 15, ] 6; 31 : l) and provide for just rule within his own kingdom,'7 giving a share of life to the poor and defenseless among his own people (1 : 17, 5:22-23; 10:1-4). Far from being an expression of inactivity, the theme of rest and quiet in Isaiah is a call to reform to a just distribution of wealth according to God's will, so that Jerusalem could again be a center of life, a city of rejoic-ing: "Justice will bring about peace; right will produce calm and security. My people.will live in peaceful country, in secure dwellings and quiet resting places. Look to Zion, the city of our festivals; let your eyes see Jerusalem as a quiet abode" (32:17-18; 33:20). The waters of life is a theme of special richness in the Gospel of John 18. '~ In the story of the wedding feast at Cana (Jn 2:1-12), the jars of water are pro-vided according to the rules for ceremonial washings and thus the water can aptly symbolize the Jewish law. The wine is a familiar symbol for messianic fulfillment ,(e.g., Ho 14:8) and here expresses the centrality of Jesus who replaces the Law as God's 'primary means of revelation. The episode of the Samaritan woman (Jn 4:1-42) employs a clearer allusion to the imagery of revelation in the symbol of "living water," that is, water which both flows and symbolizes life; here the source of this "living water" is Jesus rather than the biblical traditions symbolized by the well of Jacob. This "replacement" theme continues in John 7 and 8 in connection with the Feast of Booths. This ancient autumn harvest,festival, at which the Israelites joyfully thanked God for his blessings and prayed for a fruitful harvest in the months ahead, com-bined the symbols of sunlight and water, both naturally associated with the fertility of the fields. Probably Psalm 84, a pilgrimage song which calls God a '°'sun" (vs. 12) and sings of the "early rain" of autumn (vs. 7), was part of this festival. The temple was the scene of illumination and water libation during this feast, but now the new center of life is the person of Jesus, God's new tem-ple (Jn 2:21), as he proclaims during the festival that he is "the light of the world" (8:12) and the source from which living waters shall flow to give life to those who believe (7:37-38). These waters finally do flow from the body of Jesus on the cross, when the soldier pierces him with a lance (19:34-35). In ac- ~7 For the idea that "being still" in Isaiah refers to a gradual reform from within the nation, I am indebted to Rev. Henri Cazelles. ,8 For most of what follows on the theme of water in John, see R. Brown, The Gospel According to John (The Anchor Bible, 29 and 29a; Garden City: Doubleday, 1966 and 1970). 524 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/4 cord with John's theology th

Issue 38.1 of the Review for Religious, 1979. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X) is edited in collaboration with faculty members of the Department of Theology of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. © 1979 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.: $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, 1979 Volume 38 Number 1 Correspondence with the editor and the associate editors, manuscripts and books for review should be sent to REVIEW Fort R~LICIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gailen, 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 38, 1979 Editorial Offices 3601 Lindell Boulevard, Room 428 Saint Louis, Missouri 63108" Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Robert Williams, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Joseph F. Gallen, SJ. Miss Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is published in January, March, May, July, Sep-tember, 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 edition of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is available from University Microfilms International; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. Copyright © 1979 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Stewardship, Justice and the Religious Purpose in Education William J. Byron, S.J. Father Byron is President'of Scranton Univergity; Scranton, PA 18510. ere are three ideas°ar'ound which I would like toor, ganize this essay. The first two., stewardship and justice, will be relat~ ely brief. The tfiird notion concerns ou~" religious purpose in edu'cation. I holSe to develop it'in~ a way that will make a case for the educ~itional apostolate as'an +xercise of stewardship arid an instrument of justice. Stewardship It has been interesting to obser~ve in the 15as! several°years a renewed' interest in the notion of s~eWardshil5°in the Catholic 'community. We are discove'ring (or rediscoverifig) that"riOt ~0nly is stewardship a simple term, it is also an uncbmplicated~solutioh to significant portions "of some major s~ciai prolSlems. In practice, stewardship is an instrument of social justice. Reflo~ztiOn°ofi'ste~a~dghil~ might begin with the first verse of the Twdfity-fourth Ps~l~a: '"The earth is the Lord's iind"the fulhess thereof." All of material 6reation, as Well as all wealth flowing from it, b~longs to God. Wealth possessed ~r~produced by human persons is owne~ by' God. We own nothing abs0iut~ly; all We have we hold in trust. Thi~ is the ffiith foundation of th6 stewardship perspective. As composites c~f body and soul, we include our intellectual and spiritual resources as part, of the basic endowment which belongs ~to the Lord: Our use of both ~nateri~l and immaterial r~sources is intended to be an exercise of ste,.wafdshio.~ , .~ 4 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 All we have we hold in trust for other~for those who inhabit this planet with us.now, and for those who will live here in the future. Stewardship has inescapable societal obligations. Why do I say all we have is held in trust for others? Why not owned by God and held by me for my personal use? Why the social dimension? Possession of a particular share of created resources may be private, but that private share cannot be used without regard for others. There are two considerations here: one of equity, the other of responsibility. On the equity side I have to ask, "Is my share a fair one relative to the needs and claims of others?" Put another way, does my share represent an unfair gain taken at the expense of others?" The equity issue quite obvi-ously relates more immediately to the possession and use of material re-sources rather than to those that are spiritual and intellectual. It is not necessary for someone to .know less mathematics so that I might know more. My food supply, however, may be held at the expense of someone less fortunate than I. Broadening the equity consideration from the individhal person to a larger group (as, for instance, one's race or nation) one can ask the equity question this way: does my group's share represent an unfair gain taken at the expense of other groups-? The responsibility consideration looks to the future. Are resources being used now in a way that will provide for future generations a secure basis for their existence? Again, this is easier to see with respect to material re-sources. If we depli~e our oil supplies, will they have an alternative source of-energy? If we pollute our lakes and streams, will they have ffater to drink? If we fail to sustain our soil, will they have bread to sustain their lives? What we refer to as "our" resources are also theirs, for they, like us, are sons and daughters of the sole owner, the Lord, who has entrusted his creation to our care and for our use. We are stewards. We own nothing absolutely. All we have we hold in trust. As inhabitants of this earth at this time, we religious educators, like our feilow~ on this planet, have stewardship responsibilities. As members of a religious community, moreover, we possess a tradition, a history, a style, some physical assets and an impressive array of spiritual and intellectual resources. We own none of these absolutely; all of these we hold in trust. We are stewards of this collective religious-community endowment. We face, therefore, considerations of equity and responsibility as we manage our collective endowment. The equity donsideration relates directly to justice and will be discussed in the next part of this article when we have to ask ourselves whether our share of these resources represents an unfair gain taken ai the expense of others. The responsibility consideration looks, as I suggested earlier, to the future. Are we using our resources, particularly our intellec.tual and spir-itual resources, in a way that is likely to enrich the lives of future inhabitants Stewardship, Justice and Purpose in Education of this planet?°The steward is in charge ofla household he does not.own. Is that ho, usehold being maintained by us in a state of apostolic readiness for effective service now and in the future? The story in ,Luke 16:1-8 of the "unjust steward" or "dishonest manager" serqi~s as a reminder that we can miSlase or misapply our heri-tage; we can indeed violate the trust that is ours. Failure to meet our responsibilities as stewards would mean failure to preserve a heritage that the Lord, the dominus, the owner of the householdmay well intend to have available for the service of future generations. To take my own Jesuit household as an example, I would include in my list of the central elements of the heritage that is now ours tb use and to preserve for the future these four: (1) The Spiritual Exercises, (2) development of the intellect, (3) service to the Holy See, and (4) apostolic flexibility. These four elements suggest that the Society of Jesus intends to foster in itself an embodiment of(1) holiness, (2)learning, (3) service to the Church, and (4)availability for necessary service ~an. ywhere in the world. ,~ Further specification of these elements rais'es four disturbing questions and one simple observation. The questions are these: 1. Does the prefer-ence .for poverty which characterizes The Spiritual Exercises also charac-terize the holiness of the Society today? 2. Does the emphasis on learning, present at the origins of the Society, remain an active emphasis in thisstage of the Society's growth and in all stages of the individual Jesuit's growth? 3. Does service to the Church of Christ and to the Vicar of Christ charac-terize our labors now as in the days of our origins? 4. Are we individually and collectively free to move our heritage and our resources in the direction of the greatest need, wherever that may be? The one observation I ~ould want to make in connection with the stewardship of the Jesuit heritage is this: formal education through the operation of schools, although part of the Jesuit tradition, is neither essen-tial to the heritage nor identifiable as an element that characterizes, the origins of the Society of Jesus. Similar reflection~, questions and observations can be directed toward the heritage and "household management" of any other religious commu-nity. " .~ o,~ 7 Justice Justice is symbolized by trays in balance on a scale. We speak of the "scale~ of justice." ~Vhen one tray yields weight to the other and imbalance occurs, the weights have to be adjusted to restore the balance. Imbalance symbolizes injustice; compen.sation makes adjustment (ad-just-ment), '~the achievement of justice, possible. Three years ago it was my privilege to address the New Orleans (Jesu'it) Province Assembly on th~ justice dimension of our apostolates~ In that paper I asked, "is ~our corporate apostolic service compensatory; are we 6 /ReviewforReligious; Volum~e 38, 197911. throwing our weight ~onto .the side of the oppressed?" I went on to say Symbolidally, justice is ~+l~resented by trays in balance on a scale.- The unbaladce of social injustice, where one group's advantage (th 'down tray) is taken at the expense .of another group (the up tray) calls for compensatory action.As a social group, we Jesuits should sh~ft our weight over to the weak stde. We see gaps between r, ch and poor, powerful and powerless, advantaged and disadvantaged. In exercising our min- " istry of justice, by whatever apostolic instruments, we sl~duld, it seems to me. trans- "' late the ideal of the Third Mode of humility into practice by choosing to be with Christ and as Christ---on the short side of all those gaps. Where do we throw our weight? Where do we throw our wealth, our income, our apostolic energy? One of the delegat6s to that assembly was the talented young lawyer-activist Alfred C. Kammer, S.J. In the question peribd following my talk, he expressed his personal view that the Society, as a group, occupier solidly and squarely the down tray in most" of the gap-comparisons that come to mind. In his recent contribution to Studies in the' Spirituality of Jesuitst Fr. Kammer~returns to my question, "Where d6 we throw our weight? Where do we throw our wealth, our income; our apostolic ener-gy?" and addresses it in these words: Th~ activist answers Father Byi'on's question by saying that the Society largely casts ' its weight with the "haves.'"with those who at best "don't care" and at worst are'the oppressors. He sees the institutional and personal weight of the Society lined up with the "haves" in such popular dichotomies as .these: white vs. black white vs. brown male vs. female U.S. vs. Third;World powerful vs. , powerless rich vs. poor . suburban vs. urban well-educated vs. poorly educated And, Fr. Kammer continues, "the,activist concludes that no matter how much Jesuits 'tinker' with their present .institutional commitments to facilitate the entry of some minority composed of the poor or disadvan, taged, th~e,.Society's weight is stii! .cgs.t overwhelmingly on the side of the well-off" (p~p. 10-11). I think Fred Kammer locates us Jesuits correctly. Weigh'ted do~v~ with the advantages of education, nutrition, health care, secure housing and all the other physical things necessary for our work, as well as those things less necessary but useful and convenient, we are on the down. tray, on the side of the well-off. Now_this raises many quegtions. What is the relatedness or relati0nship-between us and those who are less well off, those on the up tray, the disadvantaged. Are we Wher~we are because they are where they are? Has our gain been taken at their expense? With whom do we side when the issue ~" 'Burn-out' Contemporary Dilemma for the Jesuit Social Activist." Vol. X. No. 1, January 1978. Stewardship~ Justice and Purpos~e in Education is ,raised of redressing the balance? Without attempting to answer these difficult questions, I raise another that resurrects the,notion of stewardship. What are we do~ing ._with what we have? Do we manage it responsibly, share its, apply it,to the i,mprovement of life for others now and in the future? The Religious, CommUnity's Purpose in Education Many if,not most of us religious in America are stewarding our resources in an institutional educational environment. Will our stewardship-have anything .significant to contribute to .the promotion of justice? It may well be true that ~tinkering with our institutional arrangements will not shift our weight completely and existentially to the side of the poor and powerless. One need not conclude, however, that we must abandon our advantages. Nor does it follow that the down tray is necessarily the wrong place for' many religious to be. If we de=institutionalized our works, if wee gave away every physical asset we igossess ~nd went to live with the poor, poverty wo(dd be fieither relieved nor ~r~duced. We ar~ ~lo~t,lbcked 'into an adversary rel~ti6h~hip on the side ofth( rich againstth6 po6÷, 0n the side of whites against the blacks, on the side of a@ dominantgroup agaii~st any oppressed minoi'ity. We are in a position to'convert the "versus" linkages into hyphens find to forge connecting links of ~:econciliation between rich and poor, black and white, and other- di~,ided ~roups. A~dmittedly, many if not :most of us, a?e on the down tray. Admittedly, all occupants of the down tray will have to give somethingup if some semblance of balance is to b~.realized, and'most are unwilling to give up anything. And admittedly, the effort tO~'fi'chieve a balance between the trays is uphill and long range. But that is ttie.hatu're of the work we are called to do. Are we'free enough to do l~h~at i,v~b{k well? Central to an~ educational ~ork isthe develop~ment 0f"tiun~a~] potential. Human potential stretches into eternity;~the positive~side toward union with the Creatoi"bf that human p0t.e0[i-hl; the negative side points to the possibil: ity of eterh~i! alienation. , Formai education's inte{ests are coextensive with the entire range of positi~,e p~ssibiliti~s for human development. Recognition of this fact came early in Jesuit historY,. For more th~n four centuries now, we have been choosing formal education as an extr~brdinarily v~luable instrument for our work in the development of hum~.n potential. Many other religious in-sii'tutes have made'the same decision. ,:~ ,,~ ¯ At.this moment in our history, we Jesuits of the United States are faced with a.decline in numbers,'a fairly widespread loss.of nerve, some uneasi-ness ,about the appropriateness of our life-style and our ability, to live harmoniously and work effectively in companionship, and we are also faced with nagging doubts about.the apostolic value of what we are doing in,our schools. Our experience is.not uriique. In addition, we Jesuits have~lSeen challenged to redefifi~ ourselves~.and our mission.in terms of the service of 8 /Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 faith and the promotion of justice: Can this redefinition and concommitant rededication happen without abandonment:of our commitment.to formal educatiori? I think it can. Our Jesuit purpose in education is a logical extension of our stewardship and justice responsibilities.~And the same is true for many other religious. Formal education's interests are coextensive with the entire range of positive possibilities for human development. That is why religious communities choose formal education for their members, and choose to offer formal education to others. Higher education touches that ra.nge" of positive possibilities in a priv-ileged way. Wisdom is areal possibility at the stage of human development associated with higher education. At this level it is the privilege of educa-tors to group themselves into communities of inquiry which may become or beget wisdom communities,. The religious purpose in higher education is to move the minds and hearts of developing persons. The direction of this movement is Godward. The norm is truth. The outcome, it is to be hoped, is wisdom. And wisdom, we would all agree, is a gift from God. As the religious is a faith-committed person, so religious education is intended to be faith-commjttedactivity. If, as faith directs, everything depends on God, then wisdom would suggest that every'thing must be entrusted to God. If such wisdom is present with us at the beginning of religiously sponsored education, it may well be expected to reside with our students at the end of the edpcati0nal experi-ence. Any religious experience involves a search for God's will. This search, in the vocabulary of spirituality, goes b.y the name of discernment. And discernment, as we all know, is a wisdom characteristic. As any Jesuit knows, the Igna.tian way of discernment cannot be learned, from books. It can only be exp,grienced under the direction of a sensitive gpide. Hence, a special task, a privileged opportunity for Jesuits in higher education is to offer the e,xperience' of The Spiritual Exercises to those in .the learning community who want to grow spiritually. In the context o'f the Exercises, as in the classroom, learning should be directed by a motivator-organizer and assimilated by an active participant in the process. As a classroom educator or spiritual guide, the Jesuit, as an instrument of God's grace, is expected to assist the Spirit in moving the minds and hearts of those who want to grow. -' In the domain of higher education, there are many with the potential for wisdom. That is why Jesuits gather there to work. Their task is not only to teach and search for truth in all its forms, but also to share their founder's special grace with those who want to grow the Ignatian way. The Ignatian way toward wisdom is part of the heritage, the endowment over which every Jesuit exercises a stew~irdship responsibility. His antecedent respon-sibility; of course, is to have internalized the Ignatian way. His educational methods :will; not surprisingly, reflect it. Normally, his desire will be to live and work in companionship with others who are familiar with the Ignatian Stewardship, Justice and Purpose in Education way. And the Jesuit's hope, wherever he works, will be to share this way Or see it shared with others. That is responsible stewardship. It is also part of the Jesuit purpose in education. Parallel purposes, hopes and apostolic approaches characterize the work of other religious who are educators. There is much of a practical nature that (ould be said of education-for-justice efforts now underway in Catholic educational institutions. A lot of experience is accumulating. Rather than listing courses, projects and field experiences of demonstrated value, I would prefer to mention only one program that is designed to assist all educators in addressing the world hunger issue. Atthe 1974 World Food Conference in Rome, Secretary of State Henry Kissinger pledged the cooperation of the United States to work with other nations so that "within a decade no child will go to bed hungry" anywhere in the world. In hopes of facilitating contributions from educational institu-tions toward this goal, Bread for the World Educational Fund launched in 1976 a Decade of Commitment on World Hunger (DCWH). The program is designed for institutions of higher education. It provides conference oppor-tunities for administrators, faculty, campus ministers, career guidance counselors and students to share ways of placing and keeping hunger on the academic agenda. Emphasis is placed on four areas within which colleges ~:an deal with the hunger issue: curriculum, research, campus ministry and career choices made by students ("In the face of the world hunger problem, what are.you going to do with your life?").?~ Som~ of.the best work in justice-education is happening in secondary schools. Again I refrain from listing the specifics. I would, however, like to say a word about the person of the secondary educator. To put it more pr.ecisely, I would like to repeat a great theologian's reflections on the value of the person and importance of the work of the religious who is a high school_teacher. The Jesuit secondary educator is the man John Courtney Murray, de-scribed with admiration and affection as "The Schoolmaster." He spoke of the schoolmaster as the grammarian, the person who is knowledgeable in the elements of his subject, whose knowledge is, in this sense, elementary but certainly not superficial. The schoolmaster is devoted to the communi-cation of these elements as a lifetime work. Being a schoolmaster, said Fr. Murray to a Jesuit audience at Woodstock in 1961, is '~being on the growing edge of things, beca.use the growing edge is youth." "We are supposed to be Jesuit ministers of growth," he added, "'ad profectum animarum." "We are supposed to be men of tomorrow. One of "~The Educational Fund, which can also provide worship aids and high school course-materials on hunger, is a separate corporation closely related to the Christian citi~.ens lobby known simply as Bread for the World (207 East 16th Street, New York City 10003). Membership in Bread for the World (annual dues $10) will keep one informed, by means of a monthly newsletter and background papers, about the hunger issue. "10 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 our earliest undertakings was to become schoolmasters, schoolmen. Doc-trina exacta et solida is first the tradition of the Church; it is also the tradition of reason. We are committed to an intellectual apostolate--a min-istry of and io intelligence." The schoolmaster imparts the skills and guides the maturation process. The more fully the religious schoolmaster or schoolmistress has assimilated the basic elements of his or her religious, heritage, the more valuable is he or she as a role model in the 'midst of the young. The classroom teacher's task is largely one of method and motivation; the object is to move both minds and hearts. Inevitably, the response the teacher stimulates will be a response to himself or herself. This is a privileged relationship. If the sct~oolmaster (or the scholar, for that matter) is a person of justice, a sense of justice will be communicated to the students. If the institution-alized set of arrangements known as a school embodies in its procedures relationships of justice, then those who teach and learn there will, in vary-ing degrees, embody in themselves the principles of justice. The religious schoolmaster has, of course, a life outside the classroom. There are pastoral opportunities and citizenship responsibilities. The apostolic base, the school, can and should.be a place from which the religious reaches out to the Christian and civic communities for the service of faith and promotion.of justice. That outreach will, it might be expected, involve both witness and advocacy roles in 'the cause of justice as an expression of faith. Education for justice is a challenge we religious are capable of meeting. We should have no doubt about that. Whether we will. meet it or not is another matter. But we can, if we choose. The educational outcomes, the results of our efforts to educate for justice, depend on powers beyond our own. There is no reason to believe that the Lord will not raise up men and women of justice in our midst and in our times. I recognize that there is no bne method known now to be the most effective in educating for justice. The argument over method goes back to the Aristotelian notion that the one who does justice will come to under-stand justice; and back as well to Plato's view that the one who first understands justice will then act justly. In this important matter of educat-ing for justice, we Catholic educators have a laboratory system in our American schools and colleges. We can try different methods in different situations and compare results. The findings of our experiments in educa-tion for justice can be shared with other educators in other systems. We can make a difference here. As we do it our way, in the intellectual-educational mode, unjust, ex-pioitative, discriminatory and oppressive situations will remain in our world. But in direct proportion to our success in educating fqr justice, future world situations will have a reduced share of injustice. It is a Chris-tian characteristic not to give up on the future. Stewardship, Justice and Purpose in Education / 11 Father BenWren, a New Orleans Province Jesuit whose scholarly inter-ests include Eastern mysticism, tells me that there is a Chinese saying to0the effect that one who is concerned with planning for a year should plant rice; the person interested in planning for a decade should plant trees. But one who wants to plan for a century will surely want to educate people. There.is a religious purpose in education. That purpose is consistent, for example, with our contemporary Jesuit focus on the service of faith and the specification of that service in the promotion ofjustice. The activist impulse suggested by the word promotion is quite congenial with our purpose and style of education. Through education; we can touch both trays on the scalEs of justice. When we work with the advantaged, we should have the disadvantaged in mind. We can challenge ourselves and all others who occupy the down tray to dedicate ourselves in conscience to making life livable for the poorest of the poor. When we work directly with the e~onom-ically disadvantaged, we can assist them in developing the competencies that can help them move toward a better life. The earliest Jesuit schools were free. But never, so far as I can deter-mine, were Jesuit schools exclusively for the poor or exclusively for the rich. Today, we are with the rich,much more than we are with the poor in our educational work. Who can say that we cannot somehow, somewhere in the decades ahead bring our educational energies into more direct contact with the poor? Who can say that we will not, in the meantime, find new and effective ways of bringing the "haves" with wtiom we work to an accept~ ance of their obligations injustice toward the "have nots"? And who woul~l want to take responsibility for disengaging ourselves from the apostolate that makes either option possible? That last question, in my view, highlights the importance of personal and community life-style for those who work in the educational apostolate. We religious in America are perfectly capable of going soft. We can indeed insulate and isolate ourselves from the condition of the disadvantaged masses. We are capable of-violating our stewardship. If that should happen, justice will not be served and the religious purpose in education will have lost its salt. In The American Mind (Yale, 1950), Henry Steele Commager remarks that for Willa Cather, the past was significant for its moral qualities. Her long literary life was, according to Commager, an elaborate remembrance of things past--the past of the pioneers who had built the West, of the immigrants who had carried with them into the New World their sense of beauty and art, of those earlier spiritual pathfinders, the Franciscans and Jesuits, who had served their fellowmen and their God so selflessly. And all her novels and stories., were animated by a single great theme as they w.ere graced by a single felicitous style, the theme was that of the supremacy of moral and spiritual over material values, the ever recurrent but inexhaustible theme of gaining the whole world and losing one's soul (p. 150). Dealing, as she did, with the frontier as the setting for many of her 12 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 stories, Miss Cather apparently found inspiration in the frontier idea and saw it as a setting for clarification, and dramatization of moral issues. Hence, as Commager points out, the passing of the pioneer generation meant, to Miss Cather, the passing of all the old virtues, "and she was incapable of believing that there could be different virtues in a civilization whose standards were those of the countinghouse, whose habits were predatory, and whose rewards were social and ostentatious rather than spiritual and private" (p. 154). Commager cites a tribute to Nebraska writ-ten by Willa Cather in the early 1920's: We must face the fact that the splendid story of the pioneers is finished and that no new story worthy to take its place has yet begun . The generation now in the driver's seat hates to make anything, wants to live and die in an automobile, scudding past those acres where the old man used to follow the corn rows up and down. They want to buy everything ready-made: clothes, food., education, music, pleasure; Will the third generation--the full-blooded joyous ones just coming over the hill--be fooled? Will it believe that to live easily is to live happily.'? (p. 154). Two generations have passed since those words were written. Religious at work in Nebraska and elsewhere in America are prepared to admit that many of us in many different driver's seats have been fooled. Regrettably, some of us, by witness and word, have foolishly encouraged others to believe that to live easily is to live happily. The "new story" thatoWilla Cather was looking for in Nebraska,can be written anywhere in America by contemporary religious educators, if they choose to. I suspect that "the full-blooded joyous ones just coming over the hill" are not now being fooled; they recognize that if we want to live happily, we will want to do what we can to make life livable for the poorest of the poor. Schools alone cannot do it and they certainly cannot do it right away. But without the schools, it will not be done at all:. Discipleship and Loneliness: A Marcan Meditation Michael T. Winstanley, S.D.B. Father Winstanley lectures in New Testament Studies at Ushaw College, the Senior Seminary for the Northern Dioceses of Eng_l, and. He lives in the Salesian community attached to Ushaw College; Durham DH7 9RH; England. His last article, "'Jesus, Poverty and the Kingdom," appeared in the July, 1977 issue. Your vow to remain unmarried for the sake of God's kingdom will draw you into the loneliness of the cross of Jesus and reveal the basic loneliness of every man.1 In his,book The Calvary Christ Gerald O'Collins writes: "Too often a cloud of stale words covers Calvary. Theologians and exegetes can use a language remote from anything we feel. Conventional-religious art asks for our conventional reaction. Tendencies .towards evasion in all of us allow this art to continue and the dull language to grind on. We accept the old fo.rmulas, the familiar crucifixes and the ponderous pronouncements of scholars with a mixture of loyalty and mystification. We need to find and fashi6n ways of reflecting on the crucifixion which can let it speak to us again with. new power.'' How far this statement mirrors our feelings and experience, each indi-viduai must judge. I should like to suggest that one way of reflecting on the crucifixion which can indeed let it speak to us again with new power is to tRulefor a New Brother (London; Darton, Longman & Todd, 1973), p. 16. 2G. O'Collins, The Calvary Christ (London, SCM, 1977), p. ix. 13 14 / Review for Religious, Volume 38,~ 1979/1 take one evangelist's presentation of the passion of Jesus, to meditate on it, and to allow its impact to challenge our lives. For each of the evangelists narrates the story in his own way, with his own particular emphases, highlighting different aspects of the drama, f~cusing different facets of the person of Jesus,.communicating his own theological vision and understand-ing of the significance of the event. Unfortunately, the originality of each approach is often blurred, and the sharpness blunted by the comfortably generalized picture which most of us have. In this article I shall concentrate on one of the motifs which dominates the passion according to Mark, namely the loneliness of Jesus.3 It is this which constitutes his greatest suffering, far more than any physical pain. In fact, Mark, as indeed the other three evangelists, evinces little interest in the physical torments of the Master, laying little stress upon them. Mark's Gospel has been called a passion narrative with a long introduction. This reminds us to view the passion within the framework of the whole Gospel; consequently, in our consideration of some of the elements of the narrative, it will be necessary to refer back to earlier sections of the Gospel. The earliest passion narratives probably began with the arrest scene. "Suddenly, while he was still speaking, Judas, one of the twelve, appeared, and with him was a crowd armed with swords and ~cudgels; sent by the chief priests, lawyers and elders." The man responsi.ble .for the success of the arrest is not one of those whose constant opposition had dogged Jesus' tracks, but "one of the twelve," one of his friends. Our minds flash back to an earlier scene in which Jesus "then went up into the hill country and called the men he wanted: and they went and joined him. He appointed twelve to be with him, to be sent out to proclaim the gospel, with a commis-sion to drive out devils. So he appointed the twelve .-." (3,13-16). Discipleship is primarily a personal call to the intimacy of friendship, a being "singled out" in order to "be with." It is one of these chosen ones who had shared his fellowship who is the traitor; and the sign of his treach, ery is the normal sign of respect and friendship: "When he reached the spot, he stepped forward at once and said to Jesus, 'Rabbi,' and kissed him. Then they seized him and held him fast." The verb Mark uses here means a particularly ~iffectionate kiss, a firm embrace. After a futile act of token resist~ince which served only to emphasize Jesus' defenselessness, "they deserted him and fled, every one of them," including the~youthful follower who narrowly evaded capture. , Mark recounts this Scene with a laconic matter-of-factness that is chill-ingly disconcerting. Earlier that evening, as they walked together from the supper room to the garden, Jesus had predicted their flight: "You will all fall from .your faith; for it stands written: 'I will strike the shepherd down and the sheep will be scattered.'" And Peter, not untypically, had insisted that he would die even, rather than disown Jesus. "And they all said the same" 3cf. Hendrickx, The Passian Narratives (Manila, East Asian Pastoral Institute, 1977). Discipleship and Loneliness: A Marcan Meditation / 15 (14, 26-31). Yet they were not Slow to seek their own safety and leave Jesus to face his fate alone. This flight and abandonment, the memory of which haunted the early Christians, was in fact the culmination of that failure on the part of the disciples both to understand and to accept the messiahship of Jesus which Mark traces throughout this Gospel, especially after Caesarea Philippi in Chapter Eight. On that occasion, in answer to Jesus' questioning concerning people's opinions about him~ and his further probing as to the views of the disciples, Peter, as their spokesman, professed Jesus' messiahship. Jesus responded by speaking openly about his passion for the first time, which provoked a bewildered attempt to dissuade him. At this time Jesus rebuked Peter in ~strong terms for his thinking as men think rather than as God thinks, and proceeded to outline the nature of discipleship: "~nyone who wishes to be a follower of mine must leave self behind, he must take up his cross and come with me" (8,34). A little later in the narrative, as they journeyed through Galilee, Jesus again spoke of his passion, "but they did not understand what he said and were afraid to ask" (9,32). And on their way they argued about seniority and importance and greatness. Jesus predicted his passion for the third, time on the road going up to Jerusalem in terms which were unmistakably clear. The failure of the disciples to understand is illustrated by the next incident, in which the two sons of Zebedee made a bid for the top jobs in the Kingdom. The rest were naturally indignant about this, a row broke, out, and Jesus, in patient frustra-tion, attempted to open their minds to the nature of his messiahship and of his kingdom, and to the real meaning of discipleship in terms of service (10,44-45). It is this inability or unwillingness to grasp and to accept what messiah-ship meant for Jesus when this proved to be different from what the twelve were expecting and hopiag for; this inability or unwillingness to embrace in vision and in lifestyle the kind of discipleship such a messiah demanded, which expressed itself so decisively in their garden choice not to be "with him," to care for their own safety (8,35), to forsake him and flee. The next scene in the passion drama, comprises Jesus' trial before the Sanhedrin and the denials of Peter; the~e two incidents are closely inter-locked in Mark's account. '~Then they led Jesus away to the High Priest's. house, where the chief priests, elders and doctors of the law were all assembling." Already Mark has clearly designated the Jewish leaders as the ones responsible for Jesus' arrest (14,43), and he indicates each section that made up the San.hedrin, the supreme religious and legislative body. For Mark, these are his real enemies. From the early stages of the public ¯ ministry they have consistently opposed him. In Chapter Two, when the paralytic is brought to Jesus, the doctors of the law consider his talk about 16 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 forgiving sins quite blasphemous, and Jesus vainly attempts to open their eyes as he cures the poor man. A little while la.ter, after the call of Levi, when Jesus is at table with tax-gatherers and sinners, the Pharisees com-plain~ to his disciples about the types he"mixes with; Jesus, on hearing this, retorts, not without a touch of irony: "It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick; I did not come to invite virtuous people, but sinners" (2,17). Mark now records the Pharisees' criticism of the disciples for plucking corn on the Sabbath, a complaint which stung Jesus to challenge their basic tenets in enunciating the principle that people mattered more than sabbath regulations. This incident is followed by an episode which underlines the mounting hostility, the failure of Jesus to win acceptance of the religious ~lite. It is a sabbath and Jesus goes to the synagogue, where there is a man with a withered arm. "And they were watching to see whether Jesus would cure him on the sabbath, so that they could bring a charge against him." Aware of their malicious intentions, Jesus tries to draw them, to make them aware of the perversion of religion, the distortion of the image of God, that adherence to legalistic casuistry entailed. He encountered an obstinate and ominous silence, saddening and frustrating. "But the Pharisees, on leaving the synagogue, began plotting against him with the partisans of Herod to see how they could make away with hirh." Thereafter Jesus is obliged to live and to work under the shadow of this threat. The rift widens as the ministry continues, and eventually, as the conflict approaches its climax, Jesus takes the game into their own court, openly challenging them by expelling the money-lenders and merchants from the temple .precincts. On hearing of this, the chief priests and doctors of the Law "sought some means of making away with him, for they were afraid of him, because the whole crowd was spellbound by his teaching" (11,18). Not long afterwards Jesus spoke that indictment-parable of the wicked husbandmen. The inevitable result was that -they began to look for a way to arrest him, for they saw that the parable was aimed at them; but they were afraid of the people, so they left him alone and went away" (12,12). As that fateful final week progresses we hear of the attempts by the Phari-sees and Herod's party to entrap him in regard to the Caesar tribute (12,13), and by the Sadducees in regard to the resurrection (12,18-27); and we hear Jesus word-lash the doctors of the Law (12,38-40). And so, finally, as the Passover feast approaches, "the chief priests and doctors of the Law were trying to devise some cunning plan to seize him and put him to death" (14,1). Now these men have Jesus in their power at last. From the commence-ment of the so-called trial or enquiry, their intentions are firm and limpid; with cynical singlemindedness "they sought testimony against Jesus to put .him to death" (14,.56). Mark paints the scene in a few, bold, vivid strokes: the balking incompetence of the false witnesses; the silent, dignified, isolated figure of Jesus; his foes bent unanimously on his destruction. Discipleship and Loneliness: A Marcan Meditation Swiftly the evangelist brings the matter to a head, as the high priest asks Jesus whether he is in fact the Christ. At Jesus' open affirmation, the high priest, with an elaborate dlsplay of passionate horror, accuses him of blas-phemy; and the gathering ends as planned: "they all condemned him as deserving death' '--again Mark emphasizes the unanimity of the opposition, and the utter aloneness of Jesus. Whilst, in an atmosphe.re of frenzied hate and delighted success, Jesus is beaten and mockbd and humiliated, Mark shifts our attention to the courtyard where Peter stands by the fire warming himself in the chill night air. We are familiar with the painful description of Peter's triple denial of the Master. Mark skiifully orders them in a crescendo pattern so that the third denial is the most intense, accompanied by curses and a solemn oath. Some scholars suggest that Peter, still under fire in spite of his first two denials, resorts to the strongest possible manner of dissociating himself from Jesus by actually cursing him; this is the force to be given to that staggering disavowal: "I do not know this man you speak of"--an even more emphatic restatement of his earlier rejection of Jesus' messianic way at Caesarea Philippi. Peter, singled out to be with him, decisively opts in public not to be with him. Mark heightens the effect of this by juxtaposing the incident with the trial .scene: Jesus, true to himself and his mission, affirms what he cannot deny, his messiahship; and he is rejected by the religious leaders of his own people and by his closest follower. Alone and in chains, he is led away and handed over to pagan power (15,1). The rejection and isolation of Jesus is further accentuated in the subse-quent scene when the ordinary people shout for his death. The fickleness of crowds, the fragility of public opinion, is a commonly recognized phe-nomenon. From the statements of the Pharisees cited earlier, it would seem that Jesus continued to enjoy a considerable amount of popularity with the masses. Yet their acclaim was always suspect. Quite early in the Gospel, Mark describes the wave of enthusiasm and excitement sparked by Jesus' miracles and teaching; the people flocked to him with their sick, and hung on his words. But their response went little deeper. For the most part, they misunderstood the nature of his kingdom, the,genre of his peculiar messia-nism. They were not won to faith; they were prone to disappointment and disillusionment, with the resentful antagonism that this engenders. Now, when Pilate in a desperate effort to release him, offered the mob the option of choosing "Jesus Barabbas," as he was probably called, a freedom fighter convicted of murder, or Jesus of Nazareth, the crowd, incited by the chief priests, clamored for the insurrectionist, and screamed for Jesus to be committed to the hideous torture-death of crucifixion. We should not allow our familiarity with the story to dull our sensitivity to the poignant pain of that scene, the dreadful irony as the nation whose whole history pointed to this moment, the nation chosen out of all peoples on the face of the earth to be God's own people (Dt 7,6ff.), disowned their 11~ / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 Emmanuel. Jesus stands there in the open, alone, the impassioned cries of the people that was his people ringing in his ears, as they chant his rejection. His bitter desolation is intensified by a sense of injustice. Even Pilate was convinced of his innocence: "Why, what harm has he done?" Thus he is abandoned tothe Roman soldiery. In his economic description of the crucifixion and death of Jesus, Mark emphasizes the solitude of Jesus by mentioning details which, because of our acquaintance with the versions of Luke and John, we are apt to over-look. After the passers-by had hurled abuse at him and mocked him in his helpless anguish, and the lawyers had jested and gibed, "even those who were crucified with him taunted him" (15,32). At the end the robbers, too, renounce his companionship; Jesus does not belong even with his fellow-sufferers. Similarly, it is only after the death of Jesus that mention is made of the women who had followed him from Galilee, and who "were watching from a distance" (15,40). At the foot of the cross there is no mother, no beloved disciple; Jesus died utterly alone. The searing anguish of his pain and loneliness arid failure is focused and captured in the loud cry from the cross: "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" But he died "without a word or a wink from God to reassure him that, whatever the gawking crowd might think, he knew that Jesus was not only innocent, but valid where it mattered.''4 Jesus' sense of total rejection by men is compounded and intensified by his feeling abandoned by the Father,.by his experience of estrangement and alienation that be-longs to our sinfulness. The psalm that Jesus is citing is a psalm of uncon-ditional trust in God's love and ultimate vindication. The last words of Jesus are a radical expresSion of his loneliness, and a "radical expression of a devotion to God which endures in every adverse experience--a devotion which continues to claim God as 'my' God and will not let him go although he can be experienced only as the absent One who has'forsaken the peti-tioner.''~ It is this surrender in love and trust that is our window into the mystery of his personality, for it is the human expression of what.we have come to call divine sonship; it is this surrender in the brokenness of death which, like the buried grain, is the source of our life.6 It is, I believe, true that Mark's way of presenting the passion of Jesus can allow it to "speak to us again with new power," speak to us with hope and with challenge in the center of our experience. All of us know at first hand the meaning of loneliness. I still vividly remember my feelings of desolate helplessness on the occasion of my first day at school as mother walked out of the playground beyond the iron fence. Or years later, when, having spent three years in enclosed quasi-monastic surroundings, I went to sit my finals in London, sporting a large 4L. E. Keck, A Future for the Historical Jesus (London, SCM, 1972), p. 229. ~E. Schweizer, The Good News according to Mark (London, SPCK, 1971), p. 353. ncf. my article "Trust--the Life-Attitude of Jesus" in Doctrine and Life, Nov. "76, pp. 803 ft. Discipleship and Loneliness: A Marcan Meditation Roman collar at twenty-one; everything and everyone seemed to be telling me that I did not belong~°I recall also the numbing sense'of lostness that came over me as' the train hissed noisily to a halt in Wigan station the evening 'my father died. Loneliness has many forms: the jarring sadness of bereavement, the corrosive listlessness of loss and separation, the anguished alienation and shame.of guilt and sin, thedisappointment of failure, the isolation of intense physigal suffering or imprisonment; the d(structive discouragement and paralysis of non-acceptance and rejection, the pain of misunderstanding and estrangement, the gnawing emptiness of unfulfilled longing for intimacy and genuine cbmpanionship, the absence of~God. Loneliness is thic.kly woven into the fabric of our lives, it.is a facet of our human poverty, our poverty of being. But Mark assures us that it is an aspect of being human that Jesus-fully shared throughout his ministry and especially in hi~ final hours. Most of us are anxious to avoid pain, physical pain; our medical and pharmaceutical experts have mercifully developed many varieties of anal-gesic. Most of us, likewise, sedulously attempt to avoid the pain of loneli-ness; and our society has developed a wide range of would-be anaesthetics--from discos to little dog~--to soften the abrasive harshness of our experience. I, for one, am very grateful for the refuge and comfort afforded by the telephone! And yet I wonder whether Mark is challenging us as disciples of Jesus to Cope with our loneliness m. ore creatively. Whilst recognizing with thanks the extent to which he made the experience of loneliness his own, perhaps we are reluctant to recognize that he did what most of us, most of the time, seek to .shun. In spite of gripping fear and instinctive repugnance, he did not run away from it; and his steadfastness transformed it into a life-giving element of redemption. Perhaps it is here that Mark is speaking to us again with new power; perhaps the challenge for disciples of Jesus consists in transforming the pain of loneliness into a source of personal growth and of life for others. It is very important that instead of taking one of the numerous escape roads open to us, we learn to come to terms with our loneliness and listen to our own feelings and struggles, our aspirations and questions, and live themacceptingly. It is here in the unique my.stery'of our personal selfhood, in the depths of our being, that we must have the courage to allow God to find us. It is here that his call is to be heard: "Do not be afraid, for I am with you . " So often God seems absent for the simple reason that we are fearfully evading his loving presence. Loneliness is paradoxically a poten-tial source of enrichment, for it can teach us the meaning of poverty of spirit, which opens us to the gift of God's kingly rule through the Spirit poured into our hearts, that surrender in loving and trusting obedience which is the hallmark of the Master.7 rI'his is developed by Henri J. M. Nouwen, Reaching Out (London, Collins, 1976), pp. 25-101. 90 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 In learning to come to terms with our loneliness, we may learn like Jesus, to love more genuinely, more compassionately. Our going out to others will be legs oriented to answering our own needs for companionship and fulfillment, and will become an expression of authentic service which can liberate and heal and enliven. At Caesarea Philippi, Jesus asked Peter and the other eleven: ~' And you, who do you say I am?" He reiterates this question to each Christian daily. Peter was able to acknowledge J~esus as Messiah, but his response was inadequate, it did not involve a willingness to follow in his way; he jibbed at the implications of discipleship. Loneliness, failure, misunderstanding, rejection are always painful, very painful, and are a constant in our human experience; a constant, however, shot through with hope because of the paschal mystery of Christ. Our answer as disciples to the challenging ques-tion of Jesus must be expressed in our willingness to take up this cross and go "with him." A Lamb Looks Through the Fence (Where the grass appears to be greener) The grass is greener on the other side: At least, it seems that way. Shepherd, give me a heart content To praise, to server to stay. This is the pasture of Your choice, And lessons here await: Calm the longings of my heart And bid the storms abate. For fences also keep us safe, Hedged in with loving care, Provided for and protected from The lion and the bear. Teach me to trust--this humble prayer Removes the restless yen: Some day we'll see from a higher view How green our side has been. Vi~la Jacobson Berg 5 Roosevelt Ave. Malverne, NY 11565 Reflections of a Bishop on Religious Communities Leonard J. Crowley Leonard J. Crowley, Titular Bishop of Mons in Numedia, is Auxiliary Bishop of Montreal. He is Director Of the Office for English Language Affairs in the archdiocese; 2000 Sherbrooke St. West; Montreal, Que. H3H IG4; Canada. n the very fitting context of the Feast of Pentecost last year, two Roman Congregations (The Congregation for Bishops and the Congregation for Religious and for Secular Institutes) promulgated a very significant docu-ment on Directives for the Mutual Relations Between Bishops and Reli-gious in the Church. The statement is significant, for its very existence admits that there is room for growth in understanding between the episcopal office and religious communities. For far too long within the Church's often turbulent history there has been too little fruitful communication between the overseers of the faith and those specialists who have a particular and time-honored gift to share with the faithful. Th~ warning of John Cassian to his monks in the fourth century seems, even today, to express a deep-seated mistrust: "The two groups you must avoid at all times are women and the bishops." The Diocesan/Religious Rivalry This basic antipathy often shows itself as well in the ranks of those from whom the residential bishop is normally chosen in North America--the diocesan clergy. What some may naively call a healthy rivalry between religious and diocesan groups is often~ at root, a basic distrust of one another's real motives and abilities in the exercise of the apostolate. 21 22 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 This recent document addresses itself directly to this sorry condition where it exhorts that "efforts should be made to renew the bonds of fratero nity and cooperation between the diocesan clergy and communities of religious." It even suggests the context of "simple and informal" gather-ings "which serve to increase mutual trust, apostolic solidarity, and fra-ternal harmony" (37). The duty for seeing to it that such fraternal gattierings take place and grow in significance and depth is placed squarely, as it should be, on the shoulders of the bishop. Furthermore, it is the duty of the bishop to so blend the services of diocesan and religious groups that each recognize members of outstanding talent and together support their promotion to positions of service commensurate with their capabilities; for "the bishop should . . . exhort the diocesan priests to recognize gratefully the fruitful contribution made by religious to their Church and to approve willingly their nomination to positions of greater responsibility which are consbnant with their vocation and competency" (55). In basic fact, if we truly are to witness to the mystery of the Lord Jesus in our midst, then there should be no rivalry but only harmony in the service we render. The bishop and his diocesan assistants should rejoice in the presence of specialists who bring a particular talent to minister ina certain area to the People of God. In such a context, "bishops, along with their clergy, should be convinced advo-cates of the consecrated life, defenders of religious communities, promoters of vocations, firm guardians of the specific character of each religious family both in the spiritual and in ihe apostolic field" (28). As a matter of fact, it is the bishop's "specific office to defend consecrated life, to foster and animate the fidelity and authenticity of religious and .~o, help them become part of the communion and of the evangelizing action of his church, acc.ording to their distinctive nature" (52). ~ Difficulties of Identification But herein lies the crux of the problem. Many a bishop would be hard pressed to identify the "distinctive nature" of the religious groups en-trusted to his watchful overseeing. In many instances there seems to have ¯ been a loss of clear identity on the part of religious communities. The bishop i~ fully aware, in most instances, that "the very nature of apostolic action requires that [he] give precedence to interior recollection and to the life of prayer;" but he is also frustrated by the realization that some religious apparently have not taken to heart the realization that they must, "in conformity with their distinctive nature, renew themselves in depth and be assiduous in prayer" (23a). What a bishop must be seeking from religious who reside in or enter his diocese is a specific dedication and consecration to a form of spirituality and to an apostolic witness that is as clear and as vital as it was when the Ruleo that embodies that life was first written. The bishop must be concerned with the future of his flock; but he wants that future founded solidly in the values that have come out of the past. Therefore he must be in search of"religious Reflections of a Bishop on Religious Communities [who], even while showing a particular spirit of enterprise and foresight for the future, [are] intensely loyal to the intention and spirit of their insti-tute." (34). However, the simple fact appears to be that many religious groups have maintained a loyalty to their institute but have lost sight of both its intention and its spirit. The Second, Vatican Council has urged. The Adaptation and Renewal of Religious Life to begin with a sincere return to the spirit and the mind of the Founder and from that unique font to build anew a personal and communal zeal for the spread of the Gospel, in all its richness. It is obvious that many, if not all, religious communities have adapted themselves, their customs, their habits, to the contemporary condition--not without a great deal of soul-searching, painful compromise, and interminable meetings. But adaptation was the easier half of the challenge and directive laid down by Perfectae Caritatis. How many communities have gone on to embrace a radical renewal of their original spirit? For it is in the light of that question that one can honestly ask about the future relevance of religious life. Ignorance of Specific Spirit In many instances, individual religious find it all but impossible to dis-tinguish the uniqueness of their charism from that of other religious commu-nities. Beyond a loyal chauvinism for their own institute, many admit that their vision, their mission, their methodology is essentially the same as evi~ryone else's. The historical reasons that called: the original foundation into existence often are gone now, the needs alleviated, the witness fulfi!led, the expectations satisfied. The more specific the historical reason for the foundation, the more difficult becomes the task of pinpointing its relevance now in the latter part of the twentieth century. This quandary has caused much frustration on the part of dedicated and deeply concerned men and women who recognize the values of their traditions, see a need for apostolic zeal within the mission of the Church, but find it difficult to wed the two into an effective and realistic union within the contemporary con-text. What has happened in the minds of many young religious is to say, "Forget the past. Deal with the present and prepare for the future." But such an outlook definitely isolates one frbmthe ~rich traditions that give reason for the continuing existence of the particular institute. It truly ap-pears that too many religious today are ignorant of the spirit that enkindled the foundation of their community. They may know its historical back-ground; but they have done little to identify with .the charismatic zeal that gives them a uniqueness and an individuality so necessary in building up the full experience that is Church. For there appears today to be little difference between one religious community and another except in terms of an accident of history or geography. Beyond the clear distinctions offered by the stric~tly contemplative and monastic communities, religious orders and societies seem to have Ihid aside those distinctions that called them into 24 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 existence. Many individuals apparently responded to a vocational urging as personified in a particular individual: a teacher, a pastor, a chaplain, a family friend. The specific community to which that individual belonged meant little, except that it was the obvious context within which the indi-vidual was to pursue his vocation if he intended to follow the lead of his childhood hero. Thus many young men have gone in pursuit of the priest-hood, not as a diocesan priest or as a member of a religious community, but as a priest like Father Racine, or Father Joe, or Father O'Brien. Many young ladies simply continued their religious quest in the same context as the academy or the convent school to which they were sent by parents desirous of the best education possible for their offspring and knowing that the "good sisters" would provide just that. Symbol of Identity Of course, as the individual comes to identify with the community to which he has gone, to learn of its traditions and history during his years of postulancy and novitiate, he doubtless grows in love for and identification with the order or the congregation. That identity used to be symbolized .very powerfully in the reception of the religious habit. More than anything else, the habit had been the external symbol of an internal commitment. For many communities of religious women, the bishop was called upon to participate in this very important step in identification with the spirit of the Founder and the vision of the order. But, for many communities today, the habit stands as a symbol of the past. And the search for a clear, contempo-rary sign of identification whereby new members might feel a sense of oneness with the community has been a very frustrating one. Yet, in the beginning, it was not the habit that gave identity; it was the spirit and zeal of the Founder, as these drives inspired the community, giving a clear sense of purpose and single-mindedness to all who embraced the Holy Rule. It is that spirit which must be renewed in religious communities today if the symbols of religious life are to have any role to fulfill within the Church. The Problem of Stability Because many religious communities have been established for the ministry of the Universal Church and not for the local church alone, many within a diocese, often the bishop himself, tend to resent the fluidity of a religious community's commitment to a particular apostolic endeavor. For such persons, whose commitment to the local church is total, there is a very deep-seated hesitancy to entrust the fulfillment of a ministry to a group whose commitment often seems to be as long as its superior's vision is far-reaching. Such an anxiety seems natural and even fortified by the gospel parable about the hireling and the good shepherd. However, what many, whose commitment to the local church is so intense, fail to recognize or to acknowledge is that the purpose of religious exemption is "so that institutes Reflections of a Bishop on Religious Communities carl express their identity more adequately and devote themselves~to ,the common good with special generosity and on a wider scale" (22). If all who work together within the diocesan community have a proper appreciation of the exempt status as "a certain expression of that pastoral concern which unites them intimately with the Roman Pontiff for the universal care of all people," such an awareness "will promote greatly increased apostolic' ini-tiative and missionary zeal in every particular church" (22). ' Of course, every religious community that comes to ~erve the local church, even if it does beloia~ to an institute of pontifical right, "should feel themselves truly a part of the diocesan family" (18b). Therefore their com-mitment should be as deep find their solicitude as pervasive as every other apostolic witness within thediocese. However, in those situations where an institution finds itself "unable to carry on a given undertaking, its superiors should, in good time andwith~confidence; make known the factors hinder-ing its continuance at least in its actual form, especially if this lack is due to personnel. For~his part, ti~e local ordinary should consider sympatheti-cally the re~luest to withdraw from the undertaking and in common accord with the superiors seek a suitable solu'tion" (47). in other words, every local Church must always see itself as a vital organ of the universal People of God under the guidance of the Holy F~ther. None of us can afford to allow our apostolic vision to become so myopic as to blind us to the needs beyond our own backyard. Bishops~ especially, must realize that the zealous service of religious in his pastoral domain is always carried on'with a sense-of ministry to the Universal Church. Such a presence, then, is a blessing as it broadens the horizons of our apostolic perspective and helps us to appreciate more deeply the total concern of the Father for all his children. Thus as religious come and go within a diocese, neither the ordinary nor his diocesan assistants should resent their fluidity but shoiald see, in their willingriess to move as the Spirit calls them, a vivid reminder that we all are a pilgrim people on the move to the home that we can ohly begin to build toward in this world. The Church is larger and more loving than any of us. We must always st.rive to be of humble service to her needs and to free those who feel the ardent call to another vineyard, to another manifestation of the Spirit's solicitude in the midst of the people of God. Future Expectations Religious ~ommunities are ~:alled today to "devote themselves with full awareness and zeal to the task 0f incarnating and manife.sting in the diocese the specific witness and the genuine mission of their institute" (22). This is the value and the service that the bishops, are going to be searching for in the future, all the more so ,as they realize quite clearly that they "are entrusted with the duty of caring for religious charisms . [For] in this way;" by fostering religious life and protecting it in conformity with its own Review for Religious, Volume 38,~!~979/1 definite characteristics, bishops fulfill a real. pastoral duty" (9c). Thus the bi~hopJs going to be in search of and solicitous for those communities that. are responding in the modem day to the needs of the Church after the spirit and .with the zeal of their founders. Quite obviously, then, "religious supe-i- iors have a grave duty, their foremost responsibility in fact, to assure'the fidelity of the members to the charism of the Founder, by fostering :the renewal prescribed by the Council and required by the.times" (14c). The future of religious life will lie in the oab!ljty that each religious community has to move away from the mentali~ty of being an embattled camp; of~asse~ting, by quality of performanceoand depth of, solicitude, the recognition that "every institute exists.for the Church and must enrich her with its.~distinctive characteristics, according~to a particular spirit,and a specific mission" (14b). Eacho!n,stitute-is a shepherd, not a hireling-~.,~but only, ifoit speaks with the voice of its Founder who echoes the voice of the Good Shepherd. "The very charism of the founders appears a_s "an experi-ence of the Spirit' transmitted to their ,disciples to be lived, safeguarded, deepened and constantly developed by them, in harm~gny with the Body of Christ, continually in the process oLgrowth" (11). o. The future of the religious life de, pends, then, on a renewal that will be as much new as it will be re-. Besides a deep appreciation of the~historical origin and vision of one's community, each one,must se, ek innovative and creative ways w~ith which to bringthe wisdom an~t°~technology of contempo-rary society to bear upon the timeless values articulated, by the Lord Jesus and specifi.cally~ pursued within a particular religious context. The more clearly and more wholesomely we can make those value~"'li.~,e in our own day, the more relevant and essential becohaes the role we intend to.fulfillS' That is one reason why the renewal of the religio~us life remains ~such a crucial issue. However, that renewal is feasible only if each in~stitiate ,and every member is clearly aware that"it is necessary to preserve the identity of each institute so securely, that the danger of an ill-defined situation be avoide.d, le§t0religi,ous, failing to give .due consideration to the .particular mode of action proper to their character, become part of the ]if~"of the Ch.urch.in~a vague and ambiguous way" (11). ~_ Personal Reflection' As a bishop, I have been renewed by this document from the two ¯ Congregations, with a sense of the very serious responsibility that I have for the religious communities who minister to the people .I w.atgh o.ver.~I have always hoped that the religious who come into our midst would bring their special gifts and talents to' bea~- however or wherever thei.r apostolic pre~s-ence took them. Now I realize more clearlyothat, together wit.h my brother bishops, !' have a duty to help.directly and distinctly the religious commu~ nities in our midst to remain true to their founders' ideals and to fulfill ~their, specific mission in th.e w_ay that they alone °can do. In other words, 9s bishop, it is my duty to see to it that the apostolic commitment of each ~ ~ ~ ., ~ Refie~ctions.-bf a Bishop on Religigus Communities / 27 community is in keeping with and true to the spirit of their Rule. I must be available to help each religious entrusted to my pastoral care--and that includes every one in the diocese where I ministeruto be true to the specific charism of his or her community. It is my deep hope and confident prayer that religious, for their part, will serve each diocese in which they labor, not as general practitioners of gospel values (nor will: they accept ministries which would expect such an approach), but rather will share the fruits of their own foundations with the whole people of God in the particular and unique way that they are able. Admittedly such an approach demands a restructuring on the part of young and old alike. But that revamping is essential to the future flowering of the religious life and the future fulfillment of the Church. Unity Through Diversity In conclusion, the renewal of every religious community is eventually going to bring each congregation to the realization that we are all struggling toward the day when Jesus will be "'all in all," where there will be no distinct communities because the vision of every founder will finally be focused together in~ the one reality of the Lord Jesus. And there will be'no more religious communities because there will be only one religious Com-munity in the City of Goti; there will be, in the-~0rds of St.'Aug~astine, "one Christ loving himself." Yet, as we move toward that day of fulfillment, we musl move in the paradoxical fashion of human naturemfor~we move toward unity through .diversity. It is that great diversity of religious ingight and,~xp~erience which must be shared.with the Christian Community'in order that its unity might be achieved mor~ effectively and all-inclusively. In order to accomplish that objective; y,oung religious must take gr~at pride in the"tradition to which they ~ commit themselves, a pride that will make them zealous sharers, with all'God's people, of:the girls entrusted by the Spirit to their care. For ,those girls shall be, preserved only if they are generously commu-nicated to and'for the Church. And religious must learn to see in the bishop ,a source of support and solicitude, no longer the "'enemy,''-~but a loving brother, deeply concerned for their well-being and their growth. For the bishop clearly should understand that the future of religiousfife is the future life of the Church. - ~0 As the~Spirit shared the great diversity of his charisms on. that first Pentecost, magi the message that Mother Church has given to her ministers on this past Pentecost Sunday fill all of us ~4ith deep respect and concern for the building up of the girls entrusted to each of us for the life of the Church. Th, en.the grace of the Ho!y ,Spirit will fio~d fulfillment in us all as we bec~me truly one in Christ to the glory of God "the Father. From.""Ministry'' tO"Church Work" The.Fate of Tired Souls Paul Marceau, C.S.C.' " Father Marceau is a doctoral candidate in spirituality at the Graduate Theological Union, .Berkeley, CA. Presently he is on the staff of Moreau Seminary; Notre Dame, IN 46556. n the aftermath of the recen~ papal election a news commentator referred to one of Pope John Paul's distant predecessors who, after assuming the office, said that he spent so much time tending to the needs of others that he was in danger of becoming a stranger to himself. The problem of the threat of'being consumed by the demands of ministry is not a new one. Jesus himself seemed to recognize this danger and from time to,time would draw the disciples aside to rest (Mt 14:13f.). In this articl6 I~will sketch what 1 believe ~to be a particular form which that problem' takes 'in apostolic religious life today: the phenomenon of the over-burdened, under-cared-for religious who is being consumed by apostolic and community work and who, in the process, may be dying a slow and painful death as a human being, a minister, and a religious. As the life of such a person gets frag-mented by the constant demands of apostolic ministry there is a danger of losing one's personal center, and one's relationship with God becomes threatened in the process. Whenthat happens in the life of any minister in the Church I would suggest'that the apostolic activity of such an individual ceases to be "ministry" °and becomes only "church work." Most reiigious in apostolic communities have found (and continue to find) the early years of ministry an intoxicating experience. The apostolic life which they enter after their years in formation is challenging and de-manding. There seems to be so much to be done, so many needs to be 28 From ,"Ministry" to '~Church Work" attended. Within a short time the religious begins to feel needed and ap-preciated in ways that were unknown and perhaps impossible in the years of formation? There. develops a greater sense of self-worth as the person begins to do what he or she could only reflect upon or do only in a controlled and well-regulated way in the years of formation. There is a sense that one is finally fully immersed in ministry and with that comes the sense that one isat last doing something with his or her life, and not simply preparing to do so. A.new dimension of the personality develops and becomes more cen-tral: that of the hainister and apostle. The focus shifts from what ~was, in the years of fOrmation, substantially pr.eparatory, receptive, and to a large degre,e inner-directed and reflective to the active, the outward, the full immersion in ministry. The apostplate in these early years after formation makes heavy de-mands on self and time but most individuals are excited by this and would not want it to be otherwise. With the constant need and cpnstant demand of the apo.stolate, however, there come problems with the m.anagement of one's time and, ,indeed, of one's life. There is less and less time (and perhaps even desire) for leisure, for one's own concerns, for reflection upon one's life. Given the choice between the needs of others and one's "free time"0 (and there doe~ not alw.ays seem to be a choice), the religious often sacrific~es w.tlat .is the e~siest to sacrifice: personal time and space. Prior to the Changes in religious iife'which took place following Vatican I1, time for prayer and reflection was protected, at least in theory,2 by being built into~ the schedule. Such tim(for private ~'ea.ding, prayer, and refl+ction, how-ever, isnow no longer "given"; it has to be found and it seems ~ncreasingly difficult.to find it. Personal prayer and reflection gradually have come to be nudged out of the lives of many by the hectic ~nd busy pace of their apostolic.life. Indeed, there was a time in the past decade when such times aside f(om'ministry were rl.o.t only considered luxuries but were Iobked upon as 'selfish luxuries, as time stolen from the service of others in need. Perso'n~l prayer beco~n"e~, problematic, even for those with the best of intentions. Few, if any.~,fiaiike a conscious decision to give UP personal prayer; it gimply gets~ pushed out by the "more important" and more immediate concerns of Io~,e and service to others. It is a gradual process by which people's lives simply become so overwhelmed by the 9postolic and. qn the past. of course, apostolic involvement during the years of formation w~s minimal. Young religious were protected from such "outside" distractions. As a result, for people trained in such a context, immersion into full-time ministry,provided a shocking change from . their years of formation, The change is less abrupt today since significant apostolic involve-ment is seen as a critical part of formation. Nevertheless, the "full-time" ministry has a dynamic of its own which can really be experienced only in the doing of it, no matter how well one is prepared for it. zWhile time for meditation, spiritual ~'eading, examination of conscience, and so forth, may have been provided in previous schedules, there is certainly enough evidence to wonder to what extent such schedules were ac~tually honored--other than by those in formation. 30 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 community demands that there is simply no time "left over" for oneself., Finding time for' personal prayer becomes a terrible.struggle, the wagingof, ahopeless, losing war. For some, the loss of,,that dimension of their re-ligious life is easily justified by their appeal .to the demands of ministry; for others Such loss is--the Source of much shame and guilt.~ Foi" many, prayer has bedome a time squeezed into'fi hectic and already' cluttered day. It is ~so~ething to be fitted in between Walter Crorikite ahd'~ an evenin~g meeting, or between a dis~tressing hous~ meeting arid the celebration of the Eticharist.:These patterns of prayer-time tend to reflect their livegt prayer time itselfis'9 hectic and bdsy,°'often cluttered, time. Even when the time is fotindfor it, prayer is'filled with the concerns of 0ne's~ day. It is a time full of distractions, a very busy and unfocused time, filled~ with the hundreds of stimuli that the individual brings off ~he street with him: The time which one struggles to have alone'with God becomes a time to do a lot Of religious "business," a trine for pra~,ing for the concerns ministry, .for commending to ~he Lord all the. wounded who ha~d tbuched one's life that day. The time "aside" is really no time aside at'fill but simply a 'diffei-erit'fOi'um for doing what"one had been doing all'day long. " " For"others, the dynamic of personal prayer shiftg from "time aside" to prayer-on-the-i'un, a kind of "are you running ~vith me~, 'Jesus" format. There is sirrligly no 'time to tend to the'personal reli~gidoiums e"n °s i~o'n~ "o:f ~ o' n~e* :s~ ' life, and God is put on "hofoldr "~ n'"creas"~ °ngly lon"g ~er. "p~e ,r i.~ods of time. Not infrequently i'eligious m~ke little bargains with God, prom'ising to return to him at a latCr date when there is more time available: "I'm g?ing tO be very busy this s~'ineste~ and I reall3i won't have mucl~time for prayer ' but I'll get back t'~3ibu at Chris~tmasvacation or during the~summer when things let up a liitle." But Chrqst~n°~s o~:summer vacation corhes along, and when there ts finally t~me for prayer, such individuals find that they can no longer pray as they once d~d because they have fallen out of the habit of personal prayer. The closeness and the ~nt~macy ~s no longer there; God seems to be further away. The more personal, direct and intimat~'relationship~vith God that one might have known in quieter and mor~ peaceful ti~e~ is gone. There is a dis-ea'se about one's relationship to God, and the times alone with him are f0un'd~{o be somewhat strained and uncomfortable. The struggle to fi'nd some t~me aside does not, aftei- all, seem to' be quite worth it because thOre does not seem to be much pbint to it. " ~ Iwshort, given the difficulty of finding times for prayer,~ and the busy and hectic pace we experience,e.ven when they fire found, prayer time becomes~ more and more minimalT"and what there is becomes increasingly lesg satisfying. As a.result,, m~ore and more weight for the spiritual life comes to be put on community, or on "apostolic prayer." Liturgy and'common prayer become the focus and substance of the prayer life .of many to the exclusion of~all other forms. But with that, .there is often felt an, uncom-fortable dissonance between what one says in his~ministry and'what one' From "Ministry" ,to "Church Work" d0es.-,Thus~, although he may preach eloquently; celebrate reverently, discuss the gospel enthusiastically and be complimented and affirmed by his parishioners, students, and fellow community members as being a good priest andreligious, the spiritual dimension of apostolic and community I.ife seems to have no echO;in his ownolife: He believes the message and is sincere when he tblls others about it, but at times it seems very far frorfi what he himselffis experiencing. Neverthe!ess, sharing sacraments,and common prayer~with others is at least a lifeline for many. When there is a dis-ease and a discomfort about being too alone with oneself and with°G0d, one can often find solace in participating in the more formal, more .struc-ttired ,forms of prayer, such as the sacraments and Office, since slach f/arms allow 'one to approach God without being too alone before him. Just as p~ople must build up habits of pr.aYer with time and practice, so it is that they fall out of the habits of personal prayer. Thps, ~hen a pe,rson's life become~ overwhelmed and fragmented by a busy and hectic apostolic ministry, personal prayer becomes difficult not only because of time con-siderations but because the doing of it becomes an uns~itigfying thing. For one who has fallen out of the practice .of personal prayer, moments o~f aloneness can become very frightening, and so instead of struggling tofind such times of alonene'gs and of the oppo~:tunity to foc~us within, the religio0,s may eventually fipd h~mself strugghng to avotd focusing w~th~n for fear of seeing too deeply, with to6"~uch clarity, ~hat may be happening to his fraghaehted life. When tli~it' h~ppens, the 'i~dividual spends an enor~mous amount of time and psychic energy fleeing such moments, protecting him: self from God. P~rsons sensing this dis-ease a, bout the'Jr relationship with God may read about God, talk al~out God, may do'the works of the Church and~ma~ even°hpproach G~d. in the company of othersobut they are often unable to bear facing God' in their aloneness, to be ~ilent before him. If such.is.the fate of n.ot a few apostolic religious in the past decade (and I believe it has b, een), then the task for them, again, becomes one of the struggle t9 av.oid, such moments. The apostolate, itself a contributory cause to this state of affairs, becomes a welcome and easily legitimized.distraction from facing oneself. Religious can throw themselves into their_work and give themselves over to be consumed by the apostqlic need which, as a matter of fact, is always ~,aiting there to be cared for. But this is not the zeal of those early y~ears of their ministry; it is, in fact, just the oppqsite. The work, what one does, is now.no longer ,a way of sharing what is inside, but a way of avoiding it. Instead of zeal andenthusiasm driving one from within to sha~e what.~e .has pers.onally experienced and discovered about'life and about God,,there is flightto the work for its own sake, a flight away from the i,nterior self. ~with diminishing personal energies and resources.tq ~driye and sustain himself, he becomes willingly carried along by the demands of the apostolat~e, .and~ lifebecomes one busy apostolic distraction. When ihat .happen,s, when,a person becomes emptied inside and can live .only on'the 32 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 outside, then he is:no longer engaged in the doing of ministry but.is simply busy about doing what I would call simply "church work." The irony of all this is that a person may be, and very frequently is at this same time in life, just h!tting his professional stride, doing the kinds of things that he always wanted to do in ministry,~with all the requisite pro-fessional training, and receiving very reassuring feedback from others about his ministry--and yet the.re seems to be something terribly missing, and he cannot understand why~ He may be doing very good work, pro-fessionally satisfying, assisting others in. living their lives and yet feel that he.is not doing a very good job of living his own. He might say to himself: "I should be happy but I am not. What is the matter with me?" As one person expressed it to me: "I am good and successful at what I am doing. ! enjPy it and find satisfaction in it--but why do I feel like I am dying?" The constant concerns and needs of others (and the constaht need to be focusing outside oneself), the very things .which used to energize and sus-tain the person in the early years of ministry, now only drain energies and makes the indiviidpal feel th~it his whole life', by choice"or by abdication, is being consumed by the apostolate. The apostolate has become for him a thousand-tentacled monster, constantly making demands, never letting up, constantly draining him of diminished or even exhausted personal energies. For the weary church worker the apostolate becomes a.two-edged sword: it is a welcome distraction protectin.g him from looking too closely within and, at the same time, a drain upon his personal energies even to the point of exhaustion. There is a variation to the above theme ~f the one who allows his life to become c~onsumed by the apostolate~ in order to avoid what may be dying inside, and this variation is marked by the opposite of involvement: with-drawal. For this person the apostolate becomes an eight-hour-a-day (or less)job and he is quite capable of walking away from it in order, as he sees it, to preserve his own necessary personal time and space; Having created sixteen hours of personal time and space of the twenty-four, however, the task he faces then becomes One Of filling up his space and time so that he will dot be left alone with it. In order to defend himself from se6ing the void within, the individual will do anything to fill up that time, to be distracted. He will read novels and magazines for hours (this may be his'version of "'being alone"). He may spend evening after evening watching television without really knowing or caring what is on the screen. He may arrange a heavy social schedule.'He will do anything rather than face the emptiness and discomfort that is within him. The weary church worker's life has become overwhelmed and frag-mented by the consuming demands of today's apostolate. He may be a victim of the work but. in the end; he knows that b,~ ,.'s a willing victim. He m'ay even see himself in the role of a martyr, giving his all that the world rr]ay be saved (or at least a little'more saved). But underneath the hectic and clu~ttered life of today's church worker, there is the danger of building up F¢om "Ministry" to "Church Work" /,33 increasing levels of resentment against those whom he serves. The de-mands never let up and nobody will leave hi~n alone. He may be tired. There may be a lot of suppressed anger and resentment. But worse than either of these, as long as he seems-to be good and successful in his work, is the fact that nobody seems to care about what is dying inside him and how he feels about himself and his ministry. The problem, in fact, is that no one can see what is dying inside him. All the outward signs appear to be good. The iridividual is busy, involved, committed to the apostolate, and actually doing good work there. He is sociable and affable in community, relating well there. No one can see what is happening inside him because no one is allowed to see it. The individual may have a difficult time even bringing himself tO see it and there may be too much shame and guilt to allow anyone else to see it. All the while the person may be saying: "they (superiors, fellow religious, fellow ministers) are themselves too busy ministering to others and I cannot burden them with my problems; I know what I~feel like when one more problem comes my way and I don't want to be just one more problem for' them." There is a final, cruel irony in the situation of the apostolic religious who, by the process described above, has been turned into a busy church WorkeL There is a rehewed interest and concern for spirituality and praye~ in the Church today--and that is w~lcomed. Religious are once more con-cerned about their relationship with God. But, as often a~ not, that concern is a source of guilt rather'than a source of strength. Concern for spirituality and prayer--whether the concern is assumed or imposed~--isjust one more ~lemhnd placed upon the life oLthe already tired religious. Instead of one's i'elationship with God being the source of personal energy and an impetus to ministry, it can become just one more thing to worry about along with.all the others~ one more thing with which the religious has neither the timenor the energy to contend. Instead of being the place of rest where he no longer has to be doing and Working, his prayer becomeg just one more thing to do and to work at. Instead of his relationship with God being the source and center of life, it is thrown in with all the other things which clamor for attention in a life which has lost its center. Apostolic religious communities in America today are running the risk of producing amongtheir members merely weary church workers suffering from battle fatigue. In the long run, however, there will be a price to pay in human suffering and tragedy, as suppressed anger and resentment can be suppressed no longer and begin to surface, Often in indirect but destructive ways. Religious will retire too Soon from the battle, burnt out men and women who will no longer be driven or taken advantage of. They will unclutter their lives of hectic apostolic activity and then turn and fill them up with other more relaxing distractions; but whether busy with apostolate or busy with relaxing distractions, many will be leading lives of quiet desperation because their lives no longer have any focus or center to hold them together. Review for Religious, Volunie°38, 1979/1 There are alternatives, I think, to the way we live apostolic religious life and the way we do ministrytoday. Just ~as~we do no good for a.materialistic society if we ourselves get caught up in its materialistic ethos, likewise we do little good for a society that runs at an insane pace, fragmenting the lives of its people when we ourselves run at; that.~same pace, becoming quite as fragmented in our own lives. A different style and pace of apostolic religious life need not mean that apostolic ministry be less involx;ed, less concerned, or less whole-hearted than it is now. .~ . ~.," Finding the meaning of one's life in one's relationship to God and sustaining that relationship personally through reflection and prayermmany indeed "take time away from others" but it may also allow us to offer them something more than what had been our busy, overburdened lives. G~'ound-ing our personal lives outside of the work we do may both'free us from the apostolate and, at the same time. free us for it. We will be freed from the apostolate not in the sense that we will lose the apostOlic dimension of our life in favor of the comtemplative life but rather in'!the sense that the meaning of our lives, as individuals and as communities, would no longer be tied to this specific apostolate and this particular work. "We would be freed from the works of our own hands to pursue and minister to the needs of people wherever and whatever they may.be, On .the other hand, it may well be that we would be doing the same kinds of. things ,that we are ,doing now,. but the person doing them will be different: still busy, but less frantic, and bringing to those situations a life which is a little calmer, a little more rootedand peaceful. Our apostolic ministry might be less cluttered but, at the same time, more deeply involved; we might be less frenzied, but also more zealous about the things we do. Finding the focus and center of one's life in God and taking time to tend to that dimension of life will give impetus and focus to our ministry. It will take :nothing away from it but will, instead, make ministry all the more importantmand all the more possible. "Promises to Keep"' A Homily for Final Vows J.Peter Schineller, S.J. Father Schineller, ~ member of the faculty of the Jesuit School of Theology in Chicago (JSTC), shared with those who witnessed his final vows in the Society of Jesus the't~houghts and movements that were his then. He resides at 5554 s. Woodlawn Ave.; Chicago, IL 60637. While'I was visiting "my brother and sister-in-law over the Christmas hblidays, as oftenhappens with a new toy, an argument arose betweeh their two children. The younger boy was unwilling to let his big sister play with his new eiectriC helicopter. The conversation went something like this: "It's my t6rn! You'have to let me play ffith~it."" "I don't want to and 1 don't have to." "You have to, and you know you have to." "I don't ~have to,' and I ~on't." "You have to, because you promised!" "Well, OK." My five year old nephew was trapped. He was caught by his promise, and he kne~ it. He knew in his child's wisdom that a prom~ise is something special, something sacred, and not just any old word. Promises make a difference.' "The child in me made promises more than 18 years ago, not about toys, but about how to spend my whole life*; promises not to ariother pers6n, but promises to God, tlie Father of all persons. And here I am this ~evening, to *The Jesuit's "first vows," taken at the end of the novitiate, include the perpetual vows of poverty, chastity and obedience. (Editor)' 35 36 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 renew and to finalize those promises in my profession of "final vows," and to renew the promises with joy and enthusiasm. And so in these last few moments in which I am still a Jesuit scholastic, I would :like to share a few thoughts on 1) how I see these promises, 2) where the inspiration to make the promises comes from, and 3) how it is possible for anyone to make a profession of vows. First of all, what am I promising and vowing this evening? In one sense, it is nothing new, nothing beyond what I promised eighteen years ago, a life of poverty, chastity and obedience in the Society of Jesus. It is not a new turn, a grandiose new option, but rather a public statement of my choice tO continue on the road begun. Yet in another sense, it is a new choosing, because with eyes far more open than 18 years ago, I am saying, "This is the path for me, and I promise to take this path as long as I live." The promises I make tonight are promises that I can only make tonight, and could not have haade five, ten--or eighteen years ago. Much has been written about the meaning of the vowed life. i donit intend'to present a new theory, but let me say briefly how.I see what I am promising. In the vow of obedience, I am saying that I will not try to build ~a career for myself. Rather my life is a responding life in the Society of Jesus, a response to the call of God as seen in the needs of others. In chastity I am foregoing the joys, pleasures and anxieties of building a home and family and thus establishing family roots. My basic community will be the Jesuits I live, work, and move with. In this way I hope to be available for loving service, wherever the good news of God's love is called for. In poverty I am saying that I will look upon my time, talents, education as always God's gift to me, not for myself, but to be shared in the service of others. Finally, I promise to do all of this as a member of the Society of Jesus. That is much easier to grasp and to explain. For it means living, growing, working, enjoying life, and dying with many of the persons you see here. And it is quite a group: young and old, tall and short, from all over the United States, and even from around the world. What do w,e have in common? All of us are engaged in the serious convers.~ition and ctiallenges of Christian life and ministry, in the~.tradition of Ignatius and the many .great Jesuits of the past and present. We are trying-in many different ways to let the good news of the love of God break into this world. ~ Secondly, where do I get the urge or inspiration to make these vows and promises? If it comes simply from my own imagination, then I could make and break these promises without further ado. But years ago, in quiet and diverse ways, the idea crept into my head to be a Jestlit and a priest. The idea came fr.om reading books, from conversation; from the example of my family, parish priests, and from Jesuits who taught me, And so I responded. "Promises to Keep," A,Homily for Final Vows But it was a long time ago that the journey began. Today where do I get the inspiration to make this profession of final 'vows? It seems to me that the process is quite similar. You, so many here, and so many who couldn't be here, in your own ways, have kept ~the vision and ideal of being a Jesuit priest before my eyes. YOU have been sending me signals, challenging, pushing, leading m.e, ~and so I respond. You have been sending me signals,' as I read them, that indicate that what I am about is good, and is from God. Signals have come from the parish at Harvey, Where I help on Sundays, to friends and teachers at the University of Chicago; from Jesuits in New York to students I teach and learn with here at the Jesu.itSchool of Theology; from fellow faculty members, friends of Hyde Park, to those I live with at Jesuit House. And I have to rely on :these signals, signals which have given me hope, courage, and confidence .,that 1 am on the right path. There is one conviction that has grown over the years, that while the vows are finally from God and made to God, it is according to his plan and purpose that the desire and courage to take and renew the promises of vows always comes mediated through.human lives. I sensed today a new insight into, or application of the parable of the last judgment in Matthew 25. If I might dare paraphrase it, I would say, "what I prpmise or vow to you, the least ofGod's brothers and sisters, I am vowing to God himself." But thirdly, how it is ppssible to make and live such promises? Many would say that this way of life is inhuman, psychologically unhealthy, or even un-Christian. How can i be sure that this is truly the will of God for me? How can I avoid the danger of the vows, the danger of being un-loving, irresponsible, the danger of pride in thinking that I have chosen a "better w~y" than n0n-vowed life? How can I'choose or control the future, and say where I wish to be ten or thirty years from now? Am I not fighting against Christian freedom, the freedom of the Spirit? Finally, and most trouble-some, how can I promise to God what he alone can give true obedience, holy poverty, and perfect chastity? These virtues are his gifts, and so how dare I promise or vow them'before God? The answer to these difficulties and°dangers must be an answer in faith, hope, and loving trust. Let me explain: I used to think I could figure it out--and had figured it out. I had what I thought was an adequate view of God, a solid enough view.of myself and the meaning and possibiliti~es of human life. I thought that on the basis of this perspective I could pronounce and keep my vows. They made a lot of sense. Now I see it is ndt so easy. For I see that vowed life, in common with all life, is, to use Karl Rahner's phrase, "a surrender to the mystery and incomprehensibility of God." I can't give a complete and adequate rational account or grounding for vowed life, for myself or anyone else. But on the basis of expei'ience and prayerful reflection, I dare to say that this life is not only.possible, but it is God's will and graced way for me. Living the vows as I have been about and encoun- 311 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/'1 tering the mystery of God in and through them is. their only final justification. Th.ey have been, are, and I say tonight, will continue to be my way to meet God, to be myself, and to respond to the needs .of God's people., Just as the Jesuit-.style of life has shaped my daily existence, so, in a.mysteriou.s way, the vowed life has shaped and formed my faith-filled idea of God himself. The God, revealed to me through the vows is a God I can and must stand before in trust. He is the one. who gives joy, peace, fulfillment, and a sense of purpose and mission far deeper tha~ any that I could create or grasp on my own. Moving to the center of the mystery of the possibility of the vows, I dare to say in and through these vows that God, the incomprehensible one, is not distant, far-off, uninvolved, but rather he is somehow present and working as the one who makes possible these promises in the first place. I find I am almost forced to say that he, in his Holy Spirit, is making the vbws and promises in and through me. And go only on this basis.do I dare to promise what God alone can give as gift. For I am convinced that it is a response to his impulse and urge that pushes me to make this commitment. I began these reflections with the story of a child:s pr~mise at Christ-mastime. Let me conclude with a poet's words on promises. In the midst ofa busy Week in a snow filled winter in Chicago, a pocida of Robert'Frost is perhaps most appropriate, "Stopping by Woods on a Siaowy Evening." It is good that we are here together, pausing; ~stopping not by woo~is, but in the city i~f Chicago in Augustana Lutheran Church.Tlie poet, stopping with his horse and carriage explains, "The woods are lovely, d~rk and deelS." And ~peaking formyself, Isay, yes,the woods I have journeyed through over ,the past eighteen years have been lovely, dark and deep. The woods a~re lovely--exciting, encouraging, adventuresome and challenging years, with beautiful moments of joy and peace, so lovely that~ I gla.dly, freely continue down this path. The woods are dark--filled with the .unexpected, from a pre-Vatican II Church onward towards Vatican III, with the graced paradox of a Jesuit pronouncing his final vows in a Lutheran church. Final-ly, the woods are deep if nottiing else the years of th~ journey have been deep, far too deep for me to understand and explain all that led me here tonight,, and all that is involved in this celebration, far tro deep for me to adequa.tely thank all who have supported and e, ncouraged me. Yes, the woods have been deep--filled with the mysterious presence of God in one humari life. The,,woods I,have journeyed through have been lovely, dark and deep, and I am saying in effect tonight that I would not trade a~0ay this way of, life through the woods for any other way. I say this joyfully, and as strongly as I can. But we can't stop here and pause here too long in-snow filled Chicago. For as the poet reminds us,'and as his poem concludes: "Promises to Keep," A Homily for Final Vows / 39 The woods are lovely, dark and deep. But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep. May God who is Father, Son and Spirit continue to strengthen and guide each one of us on our journeys in the miles ahead. REPRINTS FROM THE REVIEW "A Method for Eliminating Method in Prayer," H. F. Smith, S.J . 30 "An Apostolic Spirituality for the Ministry of Social Justice," M. Oliva, S.J . 50 "CelibateGerhtality," W. F. Kraft . 50 "Celibacy and Contemplatio~n,'~ D. Dennehy, S.J . 30 "Colloquy of God with a Soul that Truly Seeks Him" . 3.0. "Consciousness Exhmen," G: A. Aschenbrenner, S.J. . ~.50 "Hidden in Jesus Before the Father," G. A. Asch~ffbrenner, S.J . 50 "Institutional Business Administration & Religious," Flanagan and O'Connor . 30 "Instruction on the Renewal of Religious Formation;' S.C. for Rel!gious . ~ . .~. . 35 "Prayer-of Personal Reminiscence," D. J,' Hassel, S.J .6.0. '~Profile of the Spirit: A Theology of .Disdernment of Spirits," J. R. Sheets, S.J. ' . 50 "Psychosexual Maturity in CelibateDevelopment," P. Cristatitiello . . . ~ . 60 "Retirement or Vigil," B. Ashley, O,P. .~.3.0 "The 'Active-Contemplative' Problem," D. M. Knight .7.5. "The Contemporary Spirituality of ihe Monastic Lectio," M, Neuman, O.S.B: . ~. . 50 "The Four Momeiats of Prayer," J. R. Sheets, S.J .5.0. "The Healing of Memories," F. Martin . . . 35 "The Nature and Value of a Directed Retreat," H. F. Smith,oS.J . :.° . .35 Orders for the' above should be sent to: Review for Religious Room 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St~ Louis, MO 63108 Destructive Passivity Spiritual Direction in Judith Roemer Sister Judith is a member of the staff of the Jesuit Center for Spiritual Growth; Church Road; Wernersville, PA 19565. ecently, I have become aware of the work of Aar.on a.nd Jacqui Schiff on psychological aspects of passivity (T. A. Journal, 1:1, January, 1971). As I read some of their findings, I began to see applications to the situation of spiritual direction. I began to realize how important it is for directors to be more alert in detecting patterns of destructive passivity in their directees. I came to recognize how important it is not to foster such patterns. It.seems to me, then, that noting and examining the categories of these psychologists regarding negative passivity can be highly productive in improving the process of spiritual direction. ~ "Passivity" has long been esteemed in the spiritual life. For that reason, it seems necessary to distinguish clearly from the start precisely what is the subject of this paper. There definitely is a time for activity, and a time for passivity. What seems essential is that passivity, as a way of responding, be carefully chosen. When, after looking at a situation and being in touch with my faith, my intelligence, and my affectivity, I decide to do nothing, I have made good use of passivity. This paper is not about those freely-chosen, well-thought-'out, peacefully and joyfully chosen situations. On the con-trary, this paper is concerned .with a form of passivity which inhibits adult responsibility and substitutes an unproductive way of acting for a decision. Previously I had thought of passivity in terms of "'dging nothing," However, the unproductive types of passivity wear many masks. Along 40 Destructive Passivity in Spirit.ual Direction / lll with "doing. nothing," passivity can take the form of "over-adaptation," "agitation," "incapacitation," and "violence." Each form in turn has many other forms as the category is expanded. In writing about the situation of spiritual~direction, my assumption is that, for the most part, I am dealing with normal, productive adults. Hen~e~ without pushing Schiffs' original categories of abnormal behavior beyond their intent, I suggest that the destructive areas of passive behavior noted by them do have potential tendencies that are also to be~found ~n the situation of directing healthy adults. Both director and directee carl profit by being aware of them. Secondly, I want to show that the Spiritual Exer-cises of St. Ignatius contain some useful tactics for cou.nteracting destruc-. tive passivity. Using these tactics can be the occasion for providing quality decisions for the furtherance of the Kingdom. Doing Nothing In religious circles we often smile knowingly at the self-made martyr; we chide one another with the standard phrase, "Offer it up." We are indignant at the priest and levite who preceded the Good Samaritan and passed by the wounded stranger because it wasn't their business. We scoff at Cain as iii~ asks about being his brother's keeper. All of these are simply good exam-ples of the first category of destructive passivity, of doing nothing. Not quite so obvious is the example of a person who gathers data ad infinitum; waiting endlessly for the perfect insight, the perfect moment, before con-cretizing his dream in decision. Close to him is the example of the person who is caught in speculation to the point of paralysis. His personal intui-tions convolute beyond time and talent, becoming a threatening burden rather than a beaconing light. Substituting one a~tivity for another, washing the car instead of writing the checks, is yet another form of "doing nothing." A quite obvious form is plain indecisiveness. Not quite so easy to detect would be falling into a certain disproportionate balance of activity and passivity in prayer. One of the greatest struggles in prayer is knowing when to let go of activity in order to be quiet. As a person moves from a meditative stance to a contemplative stance, he is faced with the decision to choose or to resist passivity. Instinctively he would tend to resist whatever would challenge his depen-dence on word, fantasy, clarity or concept. In prayer, though, a person at some time is faced with the necessity of choosing the darkness of faith in place of his familiar dependency on thoughts and feelings. In the Exercises of St. Ignatius, the First Principle and Foundation (23) gives a clear direction against ~'doiflg nothingi': "The other things., are created for man to help him . Hence he ought to make use of them insofar as they help., and to rid himself of them insofar as they prove a hindrance." Later, in the Kingdom (91-98) the id quod volo (grace desired) is indicat- 49 /Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 ed in the petition to be "prompt and diligent., not to be deaf." Further on, the Three Classes of Men (149-155) portray sets of persons in the midst of decisions. At one extreme is the destructively passive man, who, filled with hopes, dreams, doubts, and attachments, comes to the end of~ his life uncommitted, not having "made use of any means." At the other end is the man of the ThirdClass who has developed a sense of freedom, a willingness to work with many options "to be better able to serve God our Lord." Many,, times people are unaware that there is any way out of their unproductive passivity, and thus see "doing nothing" as a way of survival. But this neednot be the case. A director who insists on careful discernment encourages his directee to find and develop many alternatives, thus lessen-ing the need for anyone to be locked into a single unproductive mode of ¯ acting. Over-adaptation A second, kind of passivity is over-adaptation; taking another's goal as one's own. Unlike the former category of "doing nothing," this one of over-adaptation appears to be busy and productive. Yet the exaggerated dependency role continues to operate and the results are destructive. Fear and "peace at any price" are common manifestations of over-adaptation in religious life. Yet it is often close to ordinary adaptation, which is a necessary~part of human existence. Hence over:gdaptation is difficult~to spot externally. However, careful listening to a directee can give a director many hints of how the directee is going to excessive pains not to cause trouble, to be nice, to be cooperative. Unfortunately it is not uncommon to hear of difficult or even impossible situations in which a person chooses to "sit" on his thoughts and feelings, to "adapt" rather than confront another person or a structure. The pain is often "offered up," and the unhealthy situation persists lest the individual be considered unmortified, or narrow-minded. Fear, too, can be used to mask over-adaptation. Especially among reli-gious women, being timid sometimes has an air of virtue about it. The timid woman wants to be rescued, preferably by a male spiritual director who will protect, reassure, and comfort her without suggesting that she move out of her unproductivity :and decide, with his help, what she is to do about it. Rather insidiously, this kind ofpassivity can be a mask for a deeper kind of aggression. It is difficult to challenge someone who is "trying so hard" to cooperate. Consciously or unconsciously, it doesn't take too long for the over-adapter to learn how much control can be gained in such a situation. Unfortunately, this kind of over-adaptation is often canonized as "docility." ,. Ironically, gaining control through over-adaptation often proves frus-trating. In the effort to mold, regulate and maintain the climate of safety created by over-adaptation, the directee often cannot hear the voice of the Destructive Passivity in Spiritua[ Direction Spirit. This kind of person has set up an atmosphere in which he does not have to give up his security. In clinging to safety he has substantially cut himself off from the world of inspiration and challenge. Directors often see this in directees who cannot believe that God could possibly be leading them beyond their self-made rules, beyond their self-made security and safety. Directees see this in directors who speak only of asceticism, never of mysticism, who prefer devotions and practices instead of fidelity to the Spirit. In some way those who claim they have no time for prayer as well as those who claim they cannot be involved with their neighbors both have fallen heir to passivity,in the form of over-adaptation. The former have let the rat race rather than their own head, heart and faith decide their destiny. The latter have refused to be molded by the poverty, particularity, and concreteness of the Incarnation.' Lastly, in our day, we often fail victim to concern for public relations. Our assumptions about what the bishop will think, what the lay teachers will think, what our community will think, what the Protestants Will think, what the children will think, and so on, endlessly, often decide the course of important events ?Further, they are used as a justification and motivation for over-adapting, for decisions which are unworthy of our faith experi-ence. Over-adaptation is an excellent example of how the "angel of darkness" comes disguised as an "angel of light" (Ex 332). We are all familiar with the monsters that have arisen in the guise of virtue under such "headings as availability, community, poverty, or blind obedience. Burning the candle at both ends, :navel gazing, stinginess, and the ill-use of human talents are all destructive~and.unworthy of the Kingdom. Those who have suffered these delusions might well look less to over-adaptation and more to considered responsiveness in their future decision-making. The Exercises are intended to be a celebration of one's gift of spiritual freedom. Key to that~disposition is ~ spirit of indifference. 1 can use things when I need them and put them aside when they hinder'rme. I canchoose the one or the other, not being unduly influenced by position, location or advancement. Such a stance demands a sense of presence: pres~ence to myself ag I accept the wonder and agony of who I am; and presence'to God as I accept the reality of Someone beyond'me who loves me, At the peak~ of the Ignatian ,experience, the exercitant becomes a cor~templative-in-action. Again and again, each one of the exercises faces him with the question: "What do I want?" He is asked to identify his desire and pray for what he needs. He is asked to face the reality of what he can do, what he needs to ask for, what he plans to do about it all. As though this were not enough, he is asked to order his de~i~es, prioritize his Iongings, lest he assume the posture of the man of the Secon~l Class (Ex 154), thus leaving himself open 44 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 to compromise and mediocrity, It is comforting to note that over-adaptation is often the easiest of the unproductive passivities to remedy. Most people who are negatively pas-sive have done a lot 0fthinking :to arrive at such a position. They are equally capable of assimilating new. information, though. For this reason, it would be a good thing for a director to confront such negative passivity directly. Thinking seriously about developing more positive options, a director and directee can develop new alternatives that lead to more creative results. Agitation The third category of unproductive passivity is agitation, the repetition of actions that have no meaning in terms of what the individual is seeking. In prayer this often shows itself in the kind of spiritual gluttony that ex-cludes the invitation to the darkness of faith. Most of us who pray consistently catch ourselves at times trying too hard, attempting to "program" a religious experience by learning the new-est techniques, and then clinging to the resultant experience as though it were God. Once an individual has fallen into this, it ultimately comes to him asa surprise to find that faith is~dark. His experience with this darkness then arouses anger, possessiveness, the demand that God come to him on his terms. His first experience with this reality often brings about more agita-tion in the form of worry, fretting, the gloomy exaggeration of his situation out of all proportion to its reality. Many persons tend to drop prayer at this point; "Nothing is happening," they say. Or they become over, involved in new techniques, in more interesting works, or in other people, rather than take the effort to learn to live comfortably with dark faith. Since religious people tend to be idealistic, they tend to strive for goals so high that the gap between the real self and the ideal self creates depres-sion rather than energy. Here is where good direction offers an opportunity for balance. Directors should be on the alert for extremes. Wild imaginings in time of prayer, quickly changing moods of sadness, exuberance, fear, or zeal need testing. It seems unlikely that experiences of being "bugged by God" about small ~hings or "being made to suffer" by God hold up in the pro.cess of good discernment. It is more likely that persons have allowed themselves the "luxury" of agitation as a replacement for the decision to accept fully the implication's of their call. Such a decision, lived, is sobering. Life with God becomes quiet, gentle, strong, and often hidden. One must be willing to give up the excitement of flurry, th.e pride of being a "martyr to the cause," the prestigiousness of extraordinary phenomena. The con-crete decision i.s amazingly simple, poor, and hidden, just as it was when the Word was made Flesh. St. Ignatius has many suggestions for coun~teracting agitation. In the Rules for Discernment for the First W~eek (313-327) he describes the behav-ior that is characteristic of those facing their own sinfulness. He warns Destructive Passivity in Spiritual Direction against secrecy, sadness, false reasoning, restiessness, frames of mind that lead to lack of faith, hope, and love. In the Second Week's Rules for Discernment (328-336) he describes the experience of agitation as "'violent, noisy, and disturbing." These, he counsels, are from the evil one. Again, [the course of thoughts suggested to us] may end in what weakens the soul, or disquiets it; or by destroying the peace, tranquility, and quiet which it had before, it may cause disturbance to the soul. These things are a clear sign that the thoughts are proceeding from the evil spirit, the enemy of our progress and eternal salvation ~333). Unfortunately, many enjoy their agitation. Not only does it substitute for their having to make a decision, but they can often find convincing reasons to suggest why it is actually accomplishing something. However, this would be a dangerous area to cultivate.Little that is long-lasting for the K~ngdom is accomplished through such agitation. Further, the'anxiety that I am arousing can move me into the more destructive aspects of passivity: incapacitation or violence. For the director, little or nothing is accom-plished by cooperating with the agitation ofhis directee. In fact, trying to dialog logically with a person in this state often brings the directee more deeply into a dependency role, delaying a good decision. In these cases an effort should be made by both director and directee to calm the agitation, moving it back to an over-adaptive situation where, temporarily at least, the director can give calm instructions that will provide a better atmosphere for the directee to think of alternatives and decide on more productive options. Incapacitation A more entrenched kind of passivity is the fourth type: incapacitation. 'One of the most common manifestations of freezing or incapacitation tn spirituality is stubbornness, an unwillingness to move one step further until I fully understand where I am going. This kind of stubbornness commonly occurs during the transition from meditation to contemplation. "I don't know what is going to happen, and I will not let go until I do," The result is that I stay where I am, often giving up mental prayer as a result. Hand-maid to stubbornness is scruple, a fear of doing something good lest I be wrong or at least somewhat ill-motivated, Much good can be left undone while a person worries about whether or not he is proud, vain, or ambitious, The Exercises answer this frame of mind. lfl such cases one should raise his mind to his Creator and Lord, and if he sees what fie is about to do is in keeping with God's service~, or at least not opposed to it, he should act directly against the temptation. According to St. Bernard, we must answer the tempter, "" I did not undertake this because of you, and I a.m not going to relinquish it~because of you" (351). Refusing to let go of an emotion, pleasant or agonizing, is another form of incapacitation. "'I can only pray provided it is a high experience." ""Io have grown comfortable with my anger (resentment, low self-image) and 46 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 the atmosphere I create helps me feel secure. I control my environment." Unfortunately, the situation backfires and shields the individual from life, i~ssenin'g the likelihood of his loving or suffering, rejoicing or crying with the rhythms of the real world. Having entrenched himself in his low self-image, he begins to project distorting 'images on God. God becomes the Great Controller, the Life-Taker, the Divine Exactor, rather than the Evoker of Freedom and the Loving Father. Lastly, incapacitation demon-strates itself as an unwillingness, an inability to look at one's blind spots. Fear of losing the security of his images often prevents the individual from being called beyond his own devices to the darkness of faith by the whispers of the Spirit. The Ex~rcises face incapacitation firmly by asking the individual to seek for the gift of knowing that he is deeply loved and ~knowing that he is at the same time sinful. Coupled with that grace is his growing realization of who he i~the wonder and the agonywthat leads him to grow comfortable and free with his own reality. In the protection of this new freedom the person does not.have to struggle for survival. He has experienced love. He knows that he is "precious in his sight" (Is 43:4). The Exercises would stir him out of his inactivity, bidding him to look at his secret stubbornnesses as a "false lover" who readily leaves as soon as he is discovered (326). In #325, I am admonished to face the temptation boldly so that it can be put to flight. My willingness to renounce my incapacitation reaches a high .moment when I honest|y put myse|f before Christ on the Cross "as one friend speaks to another" and hear myself own the answers to the triple question, " What have I done for Christ? What am I doing for Christ? What ought I to do for Christ?" (53). Paradoxically, the most extreme kind of passivity is violence. In it I give up my responsibility for thinking and loving to vent my energy on destruc-tion. Among religious people the violence is often inward: psychosomatic illness, masturbation, guilt, tortured imaginings. These are a poor substitute for the ecstacy to which I am called. The individual prefers the certainty of destruction to the uncertainty of wonder. Even worse, ,he can cloak the mess he has created in a false rationalization of the Third Degree of Humil-ity (Ex 167),thinking that these passivities are his way of bearing poverty, humiliation, and scorn with Christ. Eventually the fruits of distress and frustration, both in himself and in those who have to live with him, will hopefully bring him to his senses. The fruits of true Christian suffering and a true participation in Christ's life always bring forth peace and joy in the depths of the spirit. Violence can also be outwardly directed. We religious may not throw a chair through a window, but we do impose verbal burdens

Issue 52.4 of the Review for Religious, July/August 1993. ; for r elig ious Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JULY-AUGUST 1993 ¯VOLUME 52 ¯ NUMBER 4 Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-535-3048 ¯ FAX: 314-535-0601 Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ° 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ° 5001 Eastern Avenue ° P.O. Box 29260 Washington, D.C. 20017. POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. SUBSCRIPTION RATES Single copy $5 includes surface mailing costs. One-year subscription $15 plus mailing costs. Two-year subscription $28 plus mailing costs. See inside back cover for more subscription information and mailing costs. ©1993 Review for Religious for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Assistant Editors Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Michael G. Harter SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP J~an Read Mary Ann Foppe Joann Wolski Conn PhD Mary Margaret Johanning SSND Iris Ann Ledden SSND Edmundo Rodriguez SJ Se~in Sammon FMS Suzanne Zuercher OSB Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JULY-AUGUST 1993 ¯ VOLUME 52 ¯ NUMBER4 contents 486 feature The Most Adventurous of Nuns: Ursulines and the Future Mary.Jo Weaver gives contemporary meaning to the legacy of Angela Merici and the Ursulines. prayer 503 Hermitage, a Metaphor of Life Eileen P. O'Hea CSJ shares the struggle of a desert-day experience. 507 Christian Zen-cum-Ignatian Meditation Robert McCown SJ explains how Christian Zen, or centering prayer, as an ancillary to the Spiritual Exercises offers spiritual repose. 519 God's Human Face Revealed: A Retreat in Wales Mary Corona FMDM shares her experience of God's working in a thirty-day retreat. 532 541 548 spiritual life What Trouble Is Tad Dunne ponders how coping with trouble allows us to find energies that produce growth. Prayer, Memories, and God Theresa Mancuso suggests a fascinating relationship between recalling joyful and painful memories and praying to God. Adding Up 75 Years Vera Gallagher RGS adds up the balance sheet of God's love in her own life history. 482 Review for Religious 553 566 574 apostolate Prayer and Work, Mostly in South Africa Timothy Stanton CR believes that intercession is the main respon-sibility of the church in the painful process of bringing a new South Africa to birth. Religious Life in West Africa 1966-1990 Martin O'Reilly CFC offers an outline of the development of reli-gious life from foreign-born to local-born in West Africa. The Sanctification of Their Neighbor Thaddeus J. Kazanecki CO examines some characteristics of the Italian confraternal life within which St. Philip Neri founded the Congregation of the Oratory. 584 596 6O2 610 religious life Culture and Contemplative Community Marie Beha OSC reflects on how living the Franciscan charism in the United States can be ddngerous both for U.S. Poor Clares and U.S. culture. Canonical Room for Charisms William F. Hogan CSC emphasizes the uniqueness to be fostered by each particular religious institute for the good of the church's mission. Journal of a Novice Director Melannie Svoboda SND explores the mind and heart of a novice director through excerpts that could be found in a journal. A Family Business: Management in Religious Congregations Dennis Newton SVD spells out some practical directives for deal-ing with complications arising from interaction between religious-congregation members and nonmembers in the workplace. departments 484 Prisms 616 Canonical Counsel: The Synod on Consecrated Life 622 Book Reviews 37-uly-Aug~st 1993 483 prisms A seminarian recently told me, in a certain exasperated way, of his frustration about political label-ing in the church. Informally representing others of sim-ilar age, he pointed out that he has known no other church than the post-Vatican II church. An English-language liturgy, a catechetical training distinguished more by ques-tions than by answers, parish organizations still in devel-oping stages, a school faculty composed mostly of lay teachers, along with a few religious women and men not appearing all that different in dress or in lifestyle from their lay counterparts--these are the only memories of church that he has. He has no more nostalgia for the prac-tices of the church of earlier years than he has for the cel-ebrated golden age of radio before the advent of television. His complaint is that any expressed desires for con-nectives to a pre-Vatican II church immediately raise the likelihood of himself and other people his age being called "neoconservatives." These thirtysomething people and younger want rather to explore more fully their heritages of Catholic .faith and practice. They have no battles to fight over the rigidities and meaninglessness that were part of some Catholic devotions and regulations of the recent, past. They are gra,teful for the freedom and respon-sibility which "older" church members have not always felt comfortable with. They appreciate the maturing fits-and- starts of an American hierarchy in providing leader-ship in their letters on peace and justice and on economics and even in the failed .attempt to address the role of women in society and the church. They see as well-mean-ing but fearful the attempts at control and centralization made by what they might want to label as a "conserva- 484 Review for Religious tive" Vatican bureaucracy. But they are nevertheless looking, sometimes toward the past, for something more in their church than they have at present. They would want, in Jesus' imagery, to be like the "head of a household who can bring from his store-room both the new and the old" (Mt 13:52). If I have rather faithfully understood and presented a major concern of significant numbers of younger members in the church, I believe that their complaint is legitimate. The necessity for an in-depth contact with and study of our rich heritages has never been more apparent. We are all-too-aware of the old truism that unless we know our past we are condemned to keep repeating it. We in the church are also well aware that the danger of being prisoners of the past is all-too-real, with the embarrassing irrel-evance of various "churchy" issues in the face of modern world problems and technology. So for us to know our heritages is to have the strength of consistency with our past but also the stim-ulus to move into a creative future where our faith is a light for appropriate decision and action. Our feature article, "The Most Adventurous of Nuns: Ursulines and the Future" by Mary Jo Weaver, is one attempt to make contact with a heritage in this kind of significant way. I hope that this article will serve as a model for people to study and write engagingly about other heritages, with implications for the present and future opportunities of those very heritages. The women and men who lived our heritages before they were heritages make vivid the values necessary for today's Christian living and the courage it takes to live these values in the face of difficulties, including at times the opposition of good people. This journal has a privileged role to play in bringing people into greater contact with the good-ness within so many spiritual families that live together in our church. In coming to know more fully the relevance of our spiri-tual heritages, we dan expect that our liturgical and prayer practices will be more life-giving, our ministries inspired by gospel beati-tudes will be more clearly focused, and our lives supported in Christian community will be more vigorous. Vatican II and the subsequent years have given the church the occasion for straightening out the gospel storeroom. Now we, the church members, need to enrich our faith lives by com-ing to know and use its treasures, both new and old. David L. Fleming SJ yuly-A1lgust 1993 485 feature MARY JO WEAVER The Most Adventurous of Nuns: Ursulines and the Future I found the title of my talk in the first sentence of Agnes Repplier's biography of M~re Marie: "Of course," she says, "the Ursulines were the most adventurous of nuns." As I skimmed the book, I found phrases like "the most adven-turous of patronesses," the "robust intelligence and fear-less imagination" of the founder, and the "constitutional fearlessness and valorous spirit" of the first missionary to North America. The women most often mentioned in Ursuline history--St. Ursula, Angela Merici, and Mhre Marie--were all formidable figures, and as I read about them I was wafted back into a romantic past when pio-neering women were intrepid and when everything worked out all right in the end. Although the women associated with Ursuline history were not feminists in any modern sense of the word, I wondered what it would mean to attempt a feminist reading of their lives. I was drawn most powerfully into Angela's life, but not before the other two made me stop and take notice. The medieval legend of Ursula as a graceful, beauti-ful, wise, cultured scholar whose learning amazed the doc- Mary Jo Weaver is professor of religious studies and women's studies at Indiana University in Bloomington. Author of Springs of Water in a Dry Land: Catholic I, Vomen and Spiritual Survival (Beacon Press, 1993) and other works, she spent ten years explor-ing feminist issues in the American Catholic Church and has recently begun a long-term research project on traditionalist Catholics in the United States. Her address is 1030 S. Mitchell; Bloomington, Indiana 47401. 486 Review for Religiot~s tors of the church explains why she inspired so many paintings and poems. The bare outlines of her mythical life--martyred along with eleven .thousand virgins with whom she was wandering around barbarian Europe--are fanciful, to say the least, but I do not think it troublesome that the historical facts about her are rather dim. True or false, her legends shaped part of the Catholic tradition and tell us something about the roles women were able to play in the medieval imagination. That she was a virgin, the patron of innocent girls, and a charismatic figure and leader even though she was single--neither married nor in a convent--was obviously attractive to Angela. When I moved to the stories surrounding M~re Marie, leader of the first Ursuline mission in North America, I found genuine historical material used by her biographer in a skilled portrait. Repplier's biography can be summarized in this sentence: "She had escaped every groove in which she had been imprisoned by circumstances." It is a marvelous summary of the life of an ordi-nary woman responding to extraordinary demands, and that seems to be an Ursuline theme, at least in the North American context, where Ursulines were on the scene early and seemed to thrive in the most desperate of situations. Male historians, who typically pay little attention to women, unite in praise for the teaching charism of the Ursulines and their civilizing power on the frontier. There is more, of course, but the bottom line from the his-torians is a witness to dedicated purpose: "The development most distinctively American was the role in educating the young assumed so largely by a myriad of women's communities, begin-ning with the Ursulines in New Orleans in 1727." These same historians do not make much of the fact that the founder of the Ursulines was an independent and rather remarkable woman sur-rounded by strong, inventive women. Those attributes attracted me, however, and it became clear to me that the best way to think about Ursulines was to get to know their founder. Besides, there seemed to be excellent sources of information: well-researched critical biographies, spiritual reflections, historical notes, and modern symposium notes say something about the kind of energy Angela Merici has inspired in her followers. About Angela Merici, there seems to be solid historical ground for an interpretation, but as with the stories of other founders and other times, the pious imagination has sometimes filtered the facts. For example, Angela is remembered ih connection with the July-Aug'ust 1993 487 Weaver ¯ The Most Adventurous of Nuns education of girls and is sometimes pictured as energetically open-ing schools; but she neither spent her time founding academies, nor was she drawn primarily to an apostolate of education. Her pioneering spirit was directed towards the moral support of young girls and the regeneration of society as it could be accomplished through a formation program within family settings. Still, because she established a company of independent women at a time when things were astonishingly bad for women, Angela is an example of the "theoretical feminism" that some critics believe has always existed even though it was seldom successful. Theoretical femi-nism means the dedication of women to the abolition of hie(ar-chics, especially those that put women under the direction of men. That description appears to fit Angela's context, and the fact that she tried her experiment during the Renaissance makes her case even stronger. One of the salient points made by feminist historians for the last twenty-five years has to do with periodization. The ways we mark historical periods have been set by men and often mark the realities of women's lives. The late Joan Kelly ~nade this argu-ment with specific reference to Renaissance Italy, Angela's time and place. According to Kelly,.there were no gains for women during the Renaissance. In fact, the age was marked by a restric-tion of the scope of women's powers. Female sexuality, women's economic and political roles, their cultural power in shaping the outlook of their societies, and the ideology about women all underwent profound changes, mostly to the diminishment of women. Yet Angela acted as if the subordination of women was not an issue for her. The "new subordination of women to the inter-ests of husbands and male-dominated groups" that went hand in hand with Renaissance "progress" did not seem to touch her per-sonally though it may account for the rather quick enclosure of the women Angela hoped could live a more autonomous existence. Like fascinating women everywhere, Angela regularly over-turns predictable assmnptions about her. The woman who gath-ered the company later valorized as "the most adventurous of nuns" seems to have been the most reluctant of founders. The founder who has gone into history as one of the world's great pioneers of education seems not to have been that at all, and the visionary who heard a voice from heaven in her teens finally got around to acting on it when she was an old woman. Angela's life fits no .pattern that I can find unless it might be 488 Review for Religious that of Dorothy Day, who summarized her own life's work by say-ing that she never planned to do very much at all. "Opportunities presented themselves and we responded," she used to say, refus-ing to be relegated to the musty shelves of sainthood, out of ordi-nary reach. Dorothy Day is not a perfect parallel figure for understanding Angela, but can help us to perceive the more or less prosaic ways in which ordinary people can be propelled into extraordinary activity. Almost everything we know about Angela Merici happened in Brescia, a small but very volatile city. In 1401 it had been dubbed "the little Rome" because it had 70 churches and 50 monasteries for a population of 16,000, yet sixty years later the apocalyptic reformer Savanarola preached sermons there evoking visions of hellfire and damnation to inspire a change of heart in a morally bankrupt population. Perhaps Brescia was simply unlucky in terms of episcopal leadership. Paulo Zane, absentee bishop there for fifty years (1481-1531), seemed to be in a contest with corrupt popes, cardinals, and priests to see who could lead the most lav-ish and egocentric life. Perhaps Brescia was simply unlucky in terms of its geographical location; it was used, stomped on, and overrun by various armies during the complex territorial wars that dominated the region in the late 15th and early 16th cen-turies. When the French sacked the city in 1512, four years before Angela arrived, the torture and killing of local citizens was so ferocious that all of Europe was shocked by it. If we think of mod-ern- day Somalia, or parts of Latin America or the Middle East, we would not be far off in our analogy. The context for Angela's life, therefore, was collapse and tran-sition. The medieval models for politics and religion were not working, but nothing better was yet in place--a time, in other words, not entirely unlike our own. It was also a time of rampant corruption and moral gridlock, in which those "in charge" appeared uninterested in the daily spiritual li;¢es of ordinary peo-ple. Outside of the 10th century, it is hard to imagine a worse set of popes, one after another, than those who occupied the Holy See then; nearly half of the men who~e stories make up Chamberlain's The Bad Popes ruled during Angela's lifetime. Religious life, although abundantly present, was scandalous rather than edifying, creating a kind of spiritual vacuum for a scream of protest to fill. And, of course, someone did produce such a scream. A young Augustinian monk teaching Scripture at Wittenberg protested .~uly-Aug'ust 1993 4.89 Weaver ¯ The Most Adventurous of Nuns Charlotte Lichtblau vehemently, but that is a different story. It is not clear how sharply the Lutheran remonstrances touched Angela herself. Many of the reformers of the 16th century--Teresa of Avila, for example-- were so taken up with their own missions that they appear to belong to a climate of religious reform that has very little to do with the great Protestant revolt that began a year after Angela arrived in her new home. Still, ten years later, in 1527, a major anti-Catholic demonstration in Brescia signified, among other things, that people there were in a state of spiritual uproar. 490 Review for Religious To understand Angela's context, therefore, we have to imag-ine a situation that felt generally hopeless and beyond control. The northern Italian borders were not secure, and towns like Brescia were a kind of permanent war zone, not always the scene of bloodshed, but sufficiently precarious to raise the disease rate, encourage prostitution, destabilize families, and generally scuttle normal life. Religious leaders were nowhere to be seen unless one happened to be in Rome attending the theater. The streets of Brescia in 1532 probably resembled Times Square in 1993. They were full of con men sensing opportunities, young women selling themselves for their next meal, old men with diseases or old war wounds and no place to go, and ragged children darting from one bad situation to the next. Acting courageously in this little scene were some dedicated young men operating hospitals for "incur-ables" and a steadfast group of young women whose desire to help young girls led them to imagine themselves working together in a new way. What did these young idealists have in common besides a lively conscience and a desire for spirituality in action? They were all friends of or drawn to Angela Merici, an efficient, maternal woman who, by all accounts, had a magnetic personal-ity shaped by personal sanctity. She had even, so it was said, once had some kind of "vision." As I noted earlier, whatever the facts of her life, Angela Merici is not typical in any way. The outline of her visionary experience-- adolescent orphan girl sees something and claims to be instructed by it--is a standard story; but what Angela did with it is not. Her modesty in claiming very little for herself because of her experi-ence reminds me of Dame Julian of Norwich, who after a series of remarkable visions went on with a modest, reclusive life, recounting them to a scribe only much later. As an adolescent, Angela apparently had a profound religious experience--a dream or a vision--which she believed gave shape and direction to her life; but she did not immediately run to a bishop to disclose its contents, nor did she speculate about the concrete terms into which it might eventually be cast. She simply went about her life as a third-order Franciscan, te.aching catechism in her own village and willing to go wherever she was needed--to Brescia, as it turns out, when she was in her forties. Unless we count a pious life as extraordinary, she did not do anything out of the ordinary there. Perhaps the very routineness of her life calmed people: At the same time, the little things she .~uly-August 1993 491 Weaver ¯ The Most Adventurous of Nuns Like any normal prophet, she was reluctant to believe that God was directly calling her. did made an impressibn on those around her. She lived a selfless life in the company of rich people and brought the attractive wis-dom of common sense to a besieged.situation. She apparently felt secure enough to pursue her lifestyle choice of virginity in the home of a wealthy young merchant, living in his house for more than a dozen years. She was an ascetic who was surrounded by friends, many of them men. She was a good organizer and pitched in to do what needed to be done--nursing, counseling, pro-tecting children, consoling the bereaved--but also apparently felt free enough to go galli-vanting off to Jerusalem, to Rome, and to Varolla, a kind of Holy Land theme park in the Alps. How it became clear to her that it was time to act upon her early vision and gather "a company of consecrated virgins" around her is not Clear to me, especially since I see her vari-ous trips as flights from that call. Every time someone called a meeting, she disappeared! In 1522, when she was in her early fifties, Angela went on a pilgrimage to Mantua, to the tomb of Blessed Osanna Andreasi, a third-order Dominican. Why? Did she simply want to honor this holy woman, or was she begin-ning to suspect that she herself was gifted beyond what she had up to now felt to be ordinary abilities? Did she hope by honoring Osanna, a new and popular cult figure, that she could elude her own fate, like Moses telling God that, in comparison with the articulate Aaron, he was simply not the man for the job? It seems reasonable to assume that she experienced some kind of inner turmoil and was seeking refuge from it. In that way--like any normal prophet, with the exception of Isaiah--she was reluctant to believe that God was directly calling bet. Whether at Mantua she was seeking refuge or confirmation, however, she did not quit running away. Her next pilgrimage, in 1524 to Jerusalem, is what we might expect from such a woman in those times, and having an on-site episode of hysterical illness was not untypical. People in the highly charged atmosphere of a major place of pilgrimage often have unex-pected or frightening physical experiences, but let us examine this moment more closely. She did not, like Margery Kempe, faint or have visions of herself assisting at the birth of Jesus; she did not, like 492 Review for Religious Felix Fabri, feel as if her whole life had been turned upside down. She went blind and so could not see some of the holy places. When I read that story, I wonder what she did not want to see. On her way back from Jerusalem, she stopped awhile in Venice, where city officials begged her to stay and administer a hospital for incurables there, an honor and a challenge to which she responded by fleeing quickly and returning to Brescia. Running away from this opportunity would have made sense if she returned to Brescia to take on similar responsibilities there, but she did not. She was scarcely unpacked when she booked pas-sage on another pilgrimage, this time to Rome and the celebration of the jubilee year (1525). I read this activity as a voyage of internal discovery. Those attuned to their inner voices know that "you can run, but you can-not hide," something An\gela was trying to do in ever more press- xng ways. Whatever her reasons for going to Rome, once there she managed to get an audience with Pope Clement VII. It is hard to imagine this event without the kind of bribery required by most Renaissance popes, so if she managed to see the pope without such machinations, I daresay he already knew about her and saw how she might be useful to him. In any case, if she wanted the solace of a papal blessing, she received another scare instead: he begged her to stay in Rome and administer a hospital there. Here the story gets even more dramatic because, in the face of a papal request, Angela fled lest she be compelled by obedience. Other popes might have pursued her, but Clement was not a man of swift decision. His nickname--"I will and I won't"--was given to him because be was a notorious temporizer, agonizingly slow to make any decision. His disadvantage was her victory. She got herself back to Brescia and away from Rome. Perhaps she imagined she was now safe and sound. ¯ What can one make of all this flight? I see a woman who probably knew she had led a useful life, who was self-assured and willing to help out where she was needed, but not eager to fit into a role she could not yet imagine for herself. The idea that she might be more than a reasonably pious and useful woman and the fact that young people involved in arduous and creative cor-poral works of mercy gathered around her as if around a mother hen may have strained her .self-understanding. Maybe she was just tired--she was in her late fifties--maybe she was just stub-born. I find her self-possessed, unwilling to act until she herself j~uly-August 1993 493 Weaver ¯ The Most Adventurous of Nuns was clear about what she might do and how she might act to con-trol her own future. In "running away" she found the time and space to begin to come to terms with it. It is fascinating to see this middle-aged woman struggle with the logical implications of her own life. She had been in Brescia for nearly fifteen years, living a prayerful life and doing good works. People thought her so wise and caring that they called her madre (a tide reserved for holy women and nuns), and from morn-ing to night she was called on by people seeking her advice or drawn to her sensible simplicity, A group of courageous young people who had their own ideas about how to live the gospel in a forlorn world were drawn to her spiritual power. And an increas-ingly clear apostolate, dedicated to the care and protection of young women, had been staring beseechingly at her since Elizabeth Prato, a friend young enough and devoted enough to be her daughter, started working with lost girls in 1522. Vv'hy, then, the reluctance? And why do I find it comforting? Without intending to be cryptic, I think it is middle age, Angela's and my own. Had she been in her twenties, perhaps she would have dived right into the creative community she founded, as many of today's middle-aged sisters, in their youth, were drawn into the irresistible energy of religious life with its sacrifices and promises. But, like many of us today, she was in her fifties, not so quick to act, distracted by alternatives and the cautions that come with age. Maybe she just wanted to live out her days in the mod-est way she had been doing. After all, it is reasonable at this age to be tending the gardens of one's own soul and unreasonable to be launching a major life project. Maybe the call which had come with such clarity many years earlier now seemed distant or unreal, impractical in the present situation. VVhen we are young, the idea that God wants us for something specific seems only natural. All the scary choices--marriage, motherhood, convent life, profes-sional training--are made with the blessed ignorance of youth. But when we are older, the same idea can make us wonder if we are imagining things; we see all the reasons not to believe what we are hearing. In such cases the mysterious ways that God is famous for often manifest themselves in some dramatic way. For Angela, not unlike many of the saints, illness was a factor. Fleeing again in 1529 to Cremona in order to get away from political intrigue and an active war zone, she became gravely ill. And here, I think, she 494 Review for Religio~ts encountered an interesting temptation that may have looked like the answer to her problems. Illness and death beckoned as an option, the last flight, the final escape. She apparently thought that she might really die there and--whether with drama or res-ignation I cannot say--took to her deathbed. Yet, when one of her young supporters composed her epi-taph and read it to her, she bounced back, not as ready to go to heaven as she imagined. Again, I think, she shows the wisdom of age, for it is only when we are very young that we find a "longing for death" something to nurture in our-selves. Angela, hearing her epitaph, dis-covered new energy in herself. She still may not have been ready to lead a new movement, but neither was she ready to be led into eternity to the strains of In Paradisum. Whatever happened to her during those days in Cremona, she was resolved, at the end of this exile, to put down her traveling staff and follow the spirit she had been running from. She made one more short trip to Varolla that winter, to renew her memories of the Holy Land-- a symbol for her sense of purpose--then returned to Brescia and moved into a small room in Elizabeth Prato's house near the church of St. Afra. Now nearly sixty, Angela tucked into this new stage of her life with determination. She lived even more austerely, spent more time in prayer, and began to instruct her spiritual daughters. It is probably only a geographical coincidence that Prato's house was near the church of St. Afra, a 4th-century prostitute who achieved sainthood through martyrdom; but it is interesting that the early work of Angela's group was partly directed at.opening possibili-ties for "penitent women," a euphemism .for prostitutes. By 1532 Angela had gathered a small group around her and developed a rather extraordinary and yet quite simple idea: all the women would engage in an exterior apostolate and lead vir-ginal and virtuous lives, but would take no vows. In its broad out-lines this plan is reminiscent of the Beguines, religious associations of women begun in the 12th century in Belgium and the All the scary choices-- marriage, motherhood, convent life, professional training-- are made with the blessed ignorance of youth. July-Augt~t 1993 495 Weaver ¯ The Most Adventurous of Nuns Netherlands. Their success in the 14th century did not impress itself upon the clerical mind so much as the fact that they took no vows and were not subject to the rules of any order. Did Angela know about them? Was she attracted by their relative autonomy? Did she think their exp+riment was worth another try? Her idea was so simple and so revolutionary that it boggled the minds of the authorities: women would commit themselves to an apostolate--the care, protection, and education of girls--and they would promise lifelong fidelity to consecrated virginity. We may consider how her plan might have threatened men. Pious men would see women able to lead useful virtuous lives without their advice, and "men of the world," accustomed to pursuing an occasional dalliance, might now have to sneak into the house late at night, only to be met with the soulful glances of an at-home daughter vowed to virginity. Angela's notion of governance was also disturbing. However much she said about obedience to authorities, the Holy Spirit was her real teacher, and so she stipulated for her daughters. Her desire to trust the activity of the Holy Spirit in the individual heart, however, did not appeal to male authorities. On the con-trary, it frightened them profoundly. Charles Borromeo--still in diapers when Angela died--found the idea of an unmediated Holy Spirit speaking directly to the heart and conscience of individual women wildly dangerous. The changes made by this young arch-bishop of Milan in Angela's Rule are not surprising to anyone with even a minimalist feminist consciousness. Borromeo was a man of his times; Angela was a woman ahead of hers. I find it fascinating that, unlike some other reformers and founders such as Teresa of Avila, Angela did not invoke the com-mands of Christ to carry out her purpose or to solidify her sense of authority. She was sure that what she was doing was made pos-sible by and would be sustained by God, but she exhibited no need to couch her ideas in the language of mystical certainty. Perhaps because she was single and surrounded by eager disci-ples she had no need to talk about divine directives. Perhaps she did not have any. Her ideas about community seem to follow directly from her own experience, an extension of her practical holiness. The memory of her vision--by now no more than a vague request to a bereaved girl--and a st.eady relationship with God were enough for her. The practicality and ordinariness of her plans made her an 496 Review for Religious inspired leader with amazing insight into the needs of women. The frescoes she commissioned for her oratory--the meeting space and prayer room for her young group--constitute a kind of "womanspace" in which her young followers could imagine new possibilities for themselves. Angela's frescoes gave her fol-lowers examples of spiritual heroism. Looking around in that room, young women saw Angela's models. Ursula, Elizabeth, Paula, Eustochium, and, by some accounts, Catherine of Alexandria make exquisite sense and testify to the power of Angela's self-concept. She did not choose prepubescent martyrs or women noted for fasting and silence; she selected strong, bright, self-confident women. It is worth lingering on this point. Although the Catholic tra-dition has a long list of impressive women saints, women whose sanctity rests on suffering, self-effacement, and masochistic penances often predominate. That Angela did not choose such models for her girls speaks eloquently, not only to Angela's time, but also to our own. The women in her murals are all.mature, educated, learned, single, undaunted by male threats or violence, and autonomous in their fashion. Like Angela herself, these women exhibit an inner certainty and independence, making no great claims for themselves, but creating atmospheres of respect by their clearheaded, fearless lives. Even if we look at the under-side of their stories--Elizabeth's sick relationship with her spiri-tual director, for example--the last line of the story is one of strength rather than brokenness. All these women are virgins-- some belatedly, some, like Ursula, spectacularly--and all com-bine devotion to learning with lives of Christlike action. Within two years of the setting up of the oratory, Angela and twenty-eight of the young women who regularly visited that col-orful space signed a book promising to serve faithfully as members of the company of St. Ursula. Within five years that number more than quintupled, and Angela died, leaving behind a growing group, three small documents, and a legacy of self-reliance. How does one survive in a world where, in Yeats's descrip-tion, "the centre cannot hold"? Angela's writings suggest that she endured by reliance on the Holy Spirit, self-confidence, adapt-ability, and kindness. She assumed that her daughters would sur-vive and that God would somehow take care of them, but I see no evidence that she had much stake in gathering a group that would last forever. She does not appear to have been much of a worrier, 3%dy-~lugust 1993 497 Weaver ¯ The Most Adventurous of Nuns perhaps because she thought of herself as a mother and had such a fearless concept of motherhood. Angela's model of mothering was dominated neither by the medieval bias that considered women to be morally and intellec-tually inferior nor by Renaissance romanticizing. In her reckon-ing, a mother is loving, but also demanding; tough as well as flexible; able to embody both divine mercy and divine judgment. As CarolynWalker Bynum has shown, these qualities are partic-ularly important in contrast to concepts of divine motherhood that we find in the writings of medieval monks. For them, moth-ers are eternally nurturing, never critical, always available, in other words, stereotypical in the worst ways. Angela's concept of motherhood is the best indicator of her independent spirit. Like the great female mystics of Helfta-- Gertrude the Great, Mechtild--she was able to look into the mir-ror and see herself and her daughters as powerful even as they committed themselves to lives of service. She managed for much of her life to be what many of us hope eventually to become, self-accepting, aware of life's bleak realities without being defeated by them, and so quietly self-confident that it seems not to have occurred to her that she would not be able to do what needed to be done. In managing to live without marrying or entering a convent, and seeing no reason why other women could not do the same, she may have failed to recognize the extraordinary qualities of her own personality, but in that, too, I see modest ambitions con-cealing a powerful sense of purpose. If I can do this, she seems to say, so can you. Little Wonder that young women were attracted to her. She looks out from the past, not with directives, but with encouragement. "Take heart," she says, "I have confidence in you." The word that dominates her writings is kindness, the notion that people can teach more effectively, pray more openly, and act in the world more compellingly insofar as they remember to be tender, encouraging, loving. The ability of hers to enable her fol-lowers by encouraging them to trust themselves is no small thing to emulate in these times of confusion and anxiety about the future of religious life. Because I find Angela's life a statement about women's oppor-tunities, I think she is something of a feminist hero. Among other things, feminism is a countercultural movement related to the ways women are taught to act and to imagine themselves. As 498 Review for Religiozts someone deeply committed to women in an age that was deter-mined to keep women in lives of subservience, Angela was coun-tercultural. Her relationships, attitudes, and actions did not fit the norm for Renaissance women, nor did they fit into the accepted molds for "pious" laywomen. She did not take up residence with a man in order to have an overseer, for example, nor did she count it a danger to faith to be living outside the control of a husband or a bishop. When she says, in Counsel number 7, to follow the old Law but lead a new Life, she makes a countercultural statement. In the ways she used her own expe-rience to make her life and the lives of other women better, she did then what feminists urge women to do now. Like women in most times, she knew that she could not operate as men do, by domi-nating a situation, and so learned to lead by other means. She was a madre, a mother and leader whose "gov-ernance" was more by example than by decree. At the same time, she was not afraid of provocative images of power, urging her fol-lowers to be "like Judith," the Israelite woman who saved her peo-ple by beheading the enemy leader, Holofernes. In her Counsels Angela suggests that her followers serve oth-ers; practice gentleness; not be anxious if they do their best; build community anywhere; teach by example; find refuge in Jesus; nur-ture those entrusted to them; honor authority in the community; and live in harmony. People can, of course, read those bits of guidance in profoundly conservative ways to suggest that Ursuline women simply comply with rightful authority and define them-selves in terms of old-fashioned virtues of maternal charity. Compassion, prayer, solidarity, and a creative imagination, they might say, have been the tools women have used for centuries to shape life toward their purposes, find they work well in traditional models. But I think it is also possible to read them as directions from a self-possessed, powerful woman to those she expected to follow her lead. The bottom line is Angela herself: she trusted her friends and counted on them to be able to make use of their own experience as she had done. As I see her legacy, she was more Because I find Angela's life a statement about women's opportunities, I think she is something of a feminist hero. Weaver ¯ The Most Adventurous of Nuns interested in encouraging women to trust themselves than she was in providing them with a set of rules and regulations. However one interprets her life, the things Angela did can still be done. Women today--laywomen and religious women--have moved beyond passivity and found new ways to make innovations and to ameliorate social ills, as she did. She knew how to read and respond to the sigris of the times in creative ways and assumed that her followers would, too. She was able to read the gospel in prag-matic terms, as a demand to respond to the human demands of everyday life, and left that as part of her legacy. She looked for a new form of religiou~ life within her own experience and com-bined it with the tried-and-true formulae of work and prayer and fasting to come up with something so ahead of its time that it scared the men in charge of things. That can still be done, too. Whatever happens to "religious life" over the next few years-- and there is no end of controversy about it--I believe that at least three things need to be combined with your own reading of Angela's life. These general recommendations apply to all of us. First, we need to know the Catholic tradition: to be literate about revelation, creation, redemption, Christology, grace, and the rest, not in order to hold on in an obdurate or triumphal way, but to have a solid appreciation of what Catholicism is and is not. With Angela as a model, be assured that I am not talking about the truncated tradition handed on by men, the one that excluded women. I am talking about the full, richly embodied, woman-rich tradition of Roman Catholicism. Those who teach young people know that we now stand in a stream of Catholic tradition that very few people really know or understand. Those whose lives are focused on education might be both scandalized and galva-nized by that fact. Second, we need to have a firm grasp of the sacramentality of Catholicism since it both strengthens the spirit and informs the imagination. If we understand that the things of the world are sacred, that God is often present in the most unlikely of places, then we might see new possibilities in the universe. We need, in other words, as Angela did, to cultivate our religious sensibili-ties: to paint frescoes, create new holy cards, celebrate life. Finally, I think we should read Scripture and its commentaries and make that a part of our prayer. Angela may have done good works and taught her "daughters". all afternoon, but only, I think, because she spent the mornings in St. Afra's in front of the altar, sometimes 500 Review for Religious deeply connected, sometimes wildly distracted, but always, rou-tinely, there. I was attracted to Angela Merici originally because she was a powerful woman and, in my reading, a reluctant founder. As I read and thought more about her, I was drawn to her sense of adventure, her willingness' to risk what may have looked like an idiotic experiment at a time when she may have been mostly tempted to retire. So how can Ursulines combine their founding charism--tied to Angela Merici--with tradition, sacramentality, and Scripture? The hard part of that question for me has to do with the Ursuline charism. What is it? Education? Virginity? Working with young women? The possible answers sometimes seem as multivalent as the life of the founder and perhaps, like all life forms, reflect some facet of divinity back to God in their par-ticularities. Ursulines together embody the varieties of Ursuline life in a way that highlights the many aspects of Angela that are worth emulating. The bottom line for me is confident innovation. I do not know if that constitutes a "charism," but it seems to me that it could. Seeing what needs to be done and doing it with an embracing charity, while refusing to capitulate to fears about the future, is a rather astounding legacy, as useful today as it was then. Bibliographical Notes Many of the ideas for a feminist reading come from the work I have done over the last decade on women in the Catholic Church. My New Catholic Women: A Contemporary Challenge to Traditional Religious Authority (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1985) is the best state-ment of that interest (see especially chapters 1 and 3). Joan Kelly's Women, History and Theory (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1984) is still the best place to start when considering the problems raised by feminist historiography. Because Kelly's work is often set within the context of Renaissance history, her essays were particu-larly useful in interpreting the context for Angela. Also, Carolyn Walker Bynum's books, especially Jesus as Mother: Studies in the Spirituality of the High Middle Ages (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1982) are outstanding resources for thinking about the ways late medieval women actually thought and acted in the face of various religious and social changes. To learn about Ursulines, I began with Agnes Repplier's Mbre Marie of the Ursulines: A Study in Adventure (New York: Grosset and Dunlap, 1932), which gave me some amusing and provocative insights into Angela and Ursula along with the f~scinating story of M~re Marie herself. I am most indebted, however, to Teresa. Led6chowska's marvelous two- .l~uly-Augus* 1993 501 Weaver ¯ The Most Adventurous of Nuns volume critical biography, Angela Merici and the Company of St. Ursula: According to the Historical Documents (translated from the French by Teresa Nylan and published in Rome: Ancora, 1969). I used this amaz-ing resource to reconstruct the events of Angela's life. The interpre-tation of Angela as "fleeing" from the voice of God and as a "reluctant" founder are my own. I was also instructed by various works of Ursuline historian Irene Mahoney, whose Portraits of Angela (privately printed, 1985) and St. Angela Merici: Foundress of the Ursulines (privately printed, 1985) are excellent books, full of detail and insight. Martha Bucer's Also in Your Midst: Reflections on the Spirituality of St. Angela Merici (Green Bay, Wisconsin: Alt Publishing Co., 1990) was also helpful. Friends provided me with various notes from Ursuline conferences, especially with a very large set of materials from an international conference in Rome in 1991. I read them with great appreciation and have bor-rowed from them here. Other books cited or alluded to in this paper include E.R. Chamberlain, The Bad Popes (New York: New American Library, 1969); Louise Collins, Memoirs of a Medieval Woman: The Life and Times of Margery Kempe (New York: Thomas Crowell, 1964); Dorothy Day, Loaves and Fishes (New York: Curtis Books, 1963); James Hennesey, American Catholicism: A Histo~bv of the Catholic Community in the United States (New York: Oxford University Press, 1981); H.EM. Prescott, Friar Felix at Large: A 15th-Century Pilgrimage to the Holy Land (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1950); William Butler Yeats, "The Second Coming," in The Collected Poems of W.B~ Yeats (New York: Macmillan, 1959); and the Penguin Dictionary of the Saints (London: Penguin Books, 1965). Progeny Imagination gives birth to a new offspring with its own world of wonder. From a procreator's seed comes a poem or a painting, a sonata Or a cathedral. each pulsing with th~ heartbeat of Progenitor-God, Giver of beauty to beauty's ministers anointed with the rite of co-creation. Anna Marie Mack SSJ 502 Review for Religious EILEEN P. O'HEA Hermitage, a Metaphor of Life I am in a hermitage. It is, again, not what I expected. The brochure made it seem inviting, a way to satisfy the desire of my heart. I wanted a place to be--to just be, be an empty vessel in God's presence. I wanted to symbolize my response to God at this point in my life and to make sure I am open, attentive to any desire or whisper of the Divine. This hermitage looks out on woods that are covered with ten inches of pure white snow. As one walks, there is no sound but the crunch of rubber boots on a would-be path and the rusde of some frozen leaves that still hang on to bare branches like icicles. To be empty before the Beloved is my desire. And so I sit cross-legged on my saffron pillow before a large wooden cross, flanked by two small icons, and a vigil light. At last, I think, desire meets fulfillment in this quiet, undistracted place. But I am distracted; I am cold. I push the thermostat knob on the small gas heater behind me to its highest set-ring. The heater begins to ci'ackle and bang continuously and make little explosive noises every six minutes or so. It robs me of silence. As darkness absorbs the light of day, I get colder and colder. I have already layered myself in all the clothes I brought with me, and I have squeezed my Eileen P. O'Hea CSJ is a psychotherapist and spiritual director. Her address is 2311 Woodbridge Street; Suite 210; St. Paul, Minnesota 55113. prayer 1993 503 O'Hea ¯ Hermitage, a Metaphor of Life I want God's truth to be straightforward-- no glitches. ice-cold feet with their two pair of socks into my new "Thinsulate" mittens. As my feet flop around on the cold wood floor, I remind myself of Emmett Kelly, the circus clown. It is not quite funny, however. I force myself to persevere for one half hour of quiet prayer, but the clanging radiator, my clanging mind, and my freez-ing body do not lead me to a place of rest. I decide it is time for the bread and cheese, the orange, and the cup of tea that are to be my supper. I watch the night as I eat. Each piece of food, each sip of tea, carries its own taste when one is so concentrated. The orange is succulent and sweet, the cheese substantial and rich, the bread mealy and nourishing, the tea satisfying. I am grateful for each. Fortified, I read the Scripture that lies open as if ready for me. I read Psalm 139 out loud and slowly, wondering as I do so if this is the place God will choose to cast some direct light and move my spirit to new understanding. I want to be awake. If I am supposed to be getting a message, if that is why I am here, I do not want to miss it. Toward the end of the psalm my spirit is thwarted by the words: "Do I not hate those who hate you, O Lord?" I cannot say these words; I check my own revised version of the text. It is the same. I close the book, wanting to feel glad that God knit me in my mother's womb, but put off by the dualistic image. This glitch prevents me from totally giving myself to this experience. I want God's truth to be straightforward--no glitches. After wrestling around a litde, I decide to again attempt some contemplative sitting. I drape the blanket around my head, shoul-ders, and feet. I set the timer for thirty minutes and wonder if I should. Perhaps this will be the time when I will just want to linger in God's presence unrestricted. So often when I experi-ence this desire some duty calls me away. This is partly why I am here in this hermitage--so I can linger in the sweet and loving presence of God or be carried beyond my own self-consciousness to a very deep and still place. I do not set the timer. I do not rest. I am very cold. I stay in this prayer position, waiting for the time to be over. I want to be comfortable. I am not. After twenty minutes I give up. I think of going to bed. I am tired and everything has taken too much 504 Review for Religious energy. The outhouse is the least of inconveniences, I think, as I stare blankly toward a small wooden washstand. Eight plastic gal-lon containers of water, icy cold, flank it. They are for washing, cleaning, and drinking. I do not like them. I decide it is too early to go to bed. It is only 6:45. I sit in the rocker, my glasses and I peeking out through the draped blan-kets, and begin to read about "unity." The cynical part of me wonders if Ruusbroec (or Ruysbroeck) could have written or known these things if he were as cold as I am. Another level of me intuits the abiding truth he is trying to articulate. I want to sip his words like fine wine and, like the effect of wine, feel them in all the cells of my body. But the resistance of my body and psyche to the frigid Minnesota weather that is penetrating this north-woods hermitage will not forsake its stance. Although I have only one page left to end the chapter, I do not continue. My heart is moved again by Ruusbroec's words when he writes about Christ's prayer for unity (Jn 17:21-23) and says it is the most loving prayer which Christ ever prayed for our salva-tion. I am touched that Christ was praying, that Christ too was filled with desire. Stay with this, I think; do not read further. I close the book. I go to bed. I am warmer. My mind goes back to Ruusbroec's words. I wonder: Is this the truth I am meant to penetrate? It has not quite caught hold of me deeply enough, I ruminate, but perhaps during the night my enlightenment will come. My mind casts about as my body begins to settle into the comfort of warmth. Perhaps Sharon, the woman running this retreat house, is a mystic who can read my soul and tell me things that God wants me to know. I fall asleep. I dream of Sharon. Morning comes. I hesitate to get up, to begin the ordeal of being cold again. I pray, eat breakfast (I do not have to dress because I am already wearing all my clothes), and go for a walk. The atmo-sphere is frigid; the sky is gray" and overcast. Ithink of leaving early. I do not need bodily hardship, I muse; things have been phys-ically hard enough this past year. I need solace and nurturing. However, I counter this thought by reminding myself that I am old enough in hermitage experiences to know one must let them be what they are, not impose oneself or one's desires on them. Let God be God, I remind myself, and you be an open space. As I reenter the hermitage, I realize I dreamt of Sharon, but can only remember her saying it is about change. I wonder if this 3~uly-A~t 1993 505 O'Hea ¯ Hermitage, a Metaphor of Life My time here has taught me how hard it is to contemplate when one is reduced to survival. is significant and a message from God or if it is a matter of my own projections and happenstance. Rather than get caught in this distraction, I reassert the pact I have secretly made with Divine Love and say: "You know my great love for you, you know I desire only you and your will; then, if you want me to move in a certain direction or to know something about you or me, you must let me know it in a way that is not obscure and leaves me free of doubt. I am open to you, but you must remove the obstacles that prevent me from knowing or seeing your will clearly. I am totally dependent on you for this and feel it is not too much to ask of one who is in a relationship of mutual love. In a word, do your stuff and I'll do mine." Inside I sit in the rocker that I have moved as close to the gas heater as possible. I pick up my pen and yellow pad and begin to write: My time here has taught me how hard it is to con-template when one is reduced to survival. Survival sets one's consciousness at the level of basic and immediate, human needs and so occupies it with food, clothing, and shelter that it gives no attention to deeper lev-els of reality. Consequently, these deeper levels of consciousness-- places where intimacy with Divine Being is realized and expressed--are, practically speaking, obliterated. The heinousness of human sin, its death-dealing power, is many-leveled. Starving peoples in Africa and war-torn countries come to mind. I put my pen down and pray: Kyrie eleison, Christe eleison, Kyrie eleison. It is afternoon.I am still cold. In a few hours my time here will be over. I do not want to leave. As I begin to gather my things I think: This hermitage time was neither "lights on" or "lights off," as Ruth Burrows describes moments of the spiritual journey. I console myself with the thought that I came to be an empty ves-sel before God. Before leaving I sit one last time on my saffron pillow to pray. As I do so, I see outside my window a brown oak leaf surrender to a current of air, then glide gently down to the waiting snow. It is sitting there now, very still, ready in due season to become one with the earth. I sit too, quietly waiting, attentive, attuned to Love. ~06 Review for Religious ROBERT MCCOWN Christian Zen-cum-Ignatian Meditation Or What You Always Wanted to Know About Being a Mystic But Were Afraid to Ask pmeople of the ancient world strove in many ways to com-unicate with whoever they believed to be out there, with whoeveg made the world and somehow controlled their lives and destinies. They offered in sacrifice choice things: grain or wine poured out, sheep or oxen slaughtered then immolated with fire. The smoke, they thought, would rise before the gods with a pleas-ing odor. Th.ey played flutes, used prayer wheels, painted their bodies, stamped their feet, and babbled. They hoped to get the gods' attention, to bring down favors from them. Human nature has not changed with the New Dispensation, nor have the ways men and women try to pray, except these are now purified and made gentle by revelation. Christ invited us to intimacy with his Father, and we respond by lifting our hearts to him: in the Eucharist (above ~11, the true and ultimate sacrifice), in vocal prayer (such as the Rosary), and in private prayer. We address God with words often chosen from the Psalms or given us by Christ himself or by his saints. These same words, as we use them, enrich our hearts and minds with wisdom. Robert McCown SJ has traveled widely in Japan, Thailand, India, and China. He has for the past two years been teaching literature in the University of Hangzhou, on China's eastern coast. His current address is: The Shrine of the Holy Cross; EO. Box 1497; Daphne, Alabama 36526. aTuly-dugust 1993 507 McCown ¯ Christian Zen-cum-Ignatian Meditation Zen has been used for decades by Christian contemplatives who came under the influence of ascetics of the East. But there are problems with using words in prayer--even God's words. Over time we tend to multiply them and to load onto them our own intellectual and emotional baggage, allowing our selfishness to co-opt their meaning. So in some prayers we might even want to dispense with words, to use body language only, which can sometimes be for us clearer, deeper, more pow-erful than spoken words. This, I think, is the prayer Christ meant when he said, "When you pray, go into your room and shut the door and pray to your Father who is in secret." In such private and largely nonvocal prayer we offer God ourselves in our silent presence, and God responds to us, creatively, in our lives. This kind of prayer goes under a variety of descriptive names: meditation, contem-plation, and mental prayer. There is a long history of it in the church, going back to her earliest years, but it flourished especially in Europe in the fourteenth through the six-teenth centuries with a succession of great spiritual directors. St. Ignatius Loyola taught his followers in his Spiritual Exercises to meditate upon structured concepts and upon chiseled images--both anchored in powerful words--to explore the destructiveness of their sins, to accept forgiveness for them, and then, centering their lives in Christ, to redirect them to God in service of the church. But he reserved a choice place at the end of these Exercises for his largely wordless, though still rich in imagery, Contemplation for Obtaining Divine Love. Others led their fol-lowers to shun in their meditations activities of both the intelli-gence and the imagination and, instead, to go beneath these, down to the marrow of the soul, to encounter the Father in that secret "room" they felt Jesus was speaking of. Zen as practiced by Christians is, in many ways, like this lat-ter form of prayer. It is not new, for it has been used for decades by Christian contemplatives who came under the influence of ascetics of the East. Although in recent years Zen has experienced in the West a growth in popularity, many devout people, unfor-tunately, have misconceptions of it, bringing mistrust. 508 Review for Religious Zen masters themselves often give little help in understand-ing their elusive discipline. When one puts questions to them about it, they often smile and remain silent. I believe this is because they see Zen not as a doctrine but as an activity--and thus an experience--so simple and immediate that, when one attempts to conceptualize it, he only obscures it, as when one tries to define the experience of love or of life. But I feel once people see what Zen is not--certainly not a rival to Christian spirituality--they may wish to try to do Zen themselves and thus to experience the extraordinary benefits claimed to derive from it. Let us consider first--lacking a better term--traditional Zen. Rather than enter the question of the historical origins of it, let it suffice to say it has been practiced for more than 1400 years. Concerning the question of its place of origin--whether India, Tibet, China, or Japan--let us concede simply that it developed in the East, probably in a pantheistic culture. But this should not influence Zen's practical value to us as a mode of meditation any more than the lack of faith of a philosopher should keep us from benefiting from his thinking. After all, a key foundation of scholas-tic philosophy and theology is a series of clear concepts St. Thomas found in the writings of the pagan Aristotle that first came to Europe through the works of Islamic thinkers. Of grea~er importance for our purpose are the reasons Zen developed into the form it ultimately took. These we hope we can intuit as we consider the practice of Zen itself; from these, perhaps, we can gain an insight into why Zen has been found by Christian con-templatives of former times and today to be useful in their prayer life. To do Zen one follows a series of seven conventions. So that our efforts remain not an exercise in looking only but translate into a creative experience, let the gentle reader observe successively these conven-tions as we set them forth: 1. Having chosen carefully the place for our meditation--as free as possible from distrac-tions, harsh lights, sounds, and drafts--we assume the Zen position, as shown in the illus-tration on this page. In this position we join our hands and bow from the waist in the tra-ditional oriental gesture of courtesy which here means, "Now I begin my meditation." A July-Aug~wt 1993 509 McCown ¯ Christian Zen-cum-Ignatian Meditation similar bow at the end will mean, "Now I end my meditation." If we must stand to attend to something--best disconnect the tele-phone beforehand--or we have an itch or a cramp we simply can-not ignore, we bow as we break off meditating, then again as we resume it. This puts parentheses around each session of our med-itation, separating it from interruptions coming from us and from our world around us. 2. We try to keep our backs as erect as comfortably possible: the base of the spine is the key. We do not worry if at first it tires quickly. After a couple of weeks of daily meditation, it will surprise us by its new toughness, even during longer sessions of Zen. 3. Our legs should be crossed as well as possible, but com-fortably, making allowances for bad knees and general decrepi-tude. We strive to keep faithful to the time we agree with ourselves to meditate daily. Twenty-minute sessions are good to begin with. As we go longer, circulato .ry pain in our legs can force us to take a break. For this, we bow, stand, join hands before us, pace the room for two minutes; then, taking again the Zen position, we bow, and resume meditating. 4. Our hands and wrists should rest comfortably on the insides of our thighs--left four fingers on top of right four fingers, the fingers underneath press up dynamically against those above, while the tips of the thumbs touch together ever so lighdy and del-icately. Here we aim to combine a relaxed and stable dynamism of our fingers with an alert delicacy in the touch of our thumbs. 5. Our head should be erect, tilted slightly forwar.d comfort-ably, and with chin in. Our tongue should rest relaxed in the base of our mouth, and we avoid all nervous movement of tongue and jaw. Lips should be relaxed and slighdy parted to permit exhaling through the mouth. 6. Our eyes should remain half closed and out of focus. If we close our eyes, we will go to sleep;, if we focus them on anything, that thing will become a distraction. 7. Our breathing should be not from the chest but from the diaphragm. We loosen our belts, allowing our lower abdomen full freedom to expand and contract. We inhale, knowing the air we take in through our nostrils will heal and give peace, and the air we exhale through our mouth will carry out those things that rob us of peace. This breathing is indeed the key to both tradi-tional and Christian Zen because, once we are in observance of these conventions, the conscious listening to the sound of our 510 Review for Religious breathing becomes the central continuous deliberate activity dur-ing the entire time we are meditating. W.e strive to make this breathing more and more regular, more deeply from the diaphragm. We seek to become increasingly absorbed in repose-fully listening to and centering ourselves in its sound. As we descend deeper into this centering, the thoughts, desires, and images that our mind naturally gener-ates will diminish to nil. If some persist, we do not fight against them, but, by continuously renewing this reposeful centering, we ignore them. If they con-tinue aggressively, it is probably because we are not observing certain of the conventions above. Perhaps our hands have slipped away from the position of dynamism and delicacy, or we are permitting nervous activity in our mouth. But most often the reason will be found in our breathing being not from the diaphragm, or our not centering ourselves in its sound. Striving meticulously to maintain these conventions, in spite of the turmoil our daily lives may be subjected to at the time, and striving, as well, to pass the whole period with a mini-mum of surrenders to needs to scratch or to shift our body's mem-bers, make for steady progress over the months, over the years. Indeed this striving for perfection in every detail--in posture and in centering in our breathing--becomes the daily bread and but-ter of Zen meditation. Even the pain we will feel in our legs after thirty or so min-utes of continuous meditation can be turned to our advantage. As this pain grows, we seek to enter it, to center within it, and, as it were, to find in it a certain rest. Thus our concentration upon our breathing will become more complete and more central, and foreign thoughts will be more completely excluded. The above conventions are, curiously, the essentials of Zen as it has developed over the past millefinium. Being in essence non-verbal, nonconceptual, and nonimaginative, Zen does not lend itself to being systematized. To those practicing Zen, it is the experience that matters, whereas the conflicting ways one tries to describe or analyze this experience are to them secondary at best. But for us Westerners, who look for reasons to be persuaded, let us ask what we are doing when we do Zen, and why. Simply stated, following these conventions meticulously permits us a Zen does not lend itself to being systematized. j~ldy-August 1993 511 McCown ¯ Christian Zen-cum-Ignatian Meditation maximum control of both our physical and mental activities, and from this we are able to suspend them partially. Thus, during meditation, the Zen position encompasses and brings under con-trol in appropriate ways every member and organ of our body-- even our heart--which, we will find, will beat slower as we descend deeper into the centering. While consciously listening to the sound of our breathing itself, we can make it more regular, more from the diaphragm, and it will further become the key to controlling and emptying the activities of our mind: memory, intelligence, will, and imagination, including especially emotions. Thus, in doing Zen we strive to make each session of medi-tation both as dynamic and as empty as possible. As far as I know there is no better way than this to disengage our physical and mental powers over an extended period of time while still con-tinuing awake and alert. Anyone attempting to observe self-imposed silence and recollection during a conventional retreat knows how recalcitrant our bodies and our minds are to this kind of discipline. Not even in sleep itself, which we now know is filled with both physical and mental .activity, is there such a diminish-ment of these as there is in Zen meditation. This partial suspension of our bodily and mental activities for a set period of time daily is the objective of Zen, and from this derive its singular benefits. As we strive for this disengage-ment, and achieve it in a growing degree, we are actually induc-ing our physical and mental powers into a daily, deep repose. Not only are each member of our bodies, but also the thoughts of our hearts, put to rest during our meditation: our conflicting values competing for dominance; our desires, inordinate or not; our ambitions and passionate longings; and our memories, both joy-ful and painful, with ruminations of past grievances. Thus we turn over, to our own mysterious powers of healing within us, our bodies, minds, and hearts; and from this daily repose and renewing of the whole person, a peace is given. We speak, of course, of daily meditation-Z-not over weeks, but over months, over years. If we do Zen faithfully, we will become aware of certain gifts that mysteriously enter our lives. We are surprised by new insights that fall out of nowhere into our minds, perhaps not during the time of meditation, but at other times dur-ing the day or night. We acquire a deeper understanding of our own best values, of how to bring to bear our nobler motivations. We acquire a deeper understanding of our own weaknesses, and we 512 Review for Religious see ways which perhaps we did not see before to put to rest inor-dinate desires. We become less afflicted by painful images of griefs or disappointments; and we are less obsessed by regrets, by per-sonal defeats and shames. Even memories of hurts from deep in our childhood, of which we are perhaps only barely aware but which still send poisonous tentacles up into our present relationships, can be uncovered and healed. We are mystified by how our own recuperative powers can now work within us. Just as, for exam-ple, when one morning we awake and realize happily that at last we are he~iled of a drawn-out bout with the flu, so in practicing Zen we might one day realize that now--but not before--we are able to turn with sincere affection toward a friend who has deeply hurt us. In short, what we experience in ourselves is a self-rehabilitat-ing human being, perhaps with long-immobilized personal gifts now renewed. From this, then, our own creative energies can emerge unencumbered, with a new freedom. This healing will often spread to others around us in our family, in our community and work place, even when they are not aware we meditate. As described thus far, traditional Zen is not intrinsically a religious action; it is, thus, neither theistic nor atheistic. Hence the curious smiles coming from Zen masters when one asks if, as practitioners of Zen, they believe in God. Somewhere further on in this direction lies the experience of enlightenment. Zen masters describe enlightenment as a percep-tion totally beyond reason, beyond imagining; intuitive, yet at the core of our life itself. All of Zen teaching, they add, is but an effort to take the disciple beyond concepts and images that stand for reality, and put him or her in intimate contact with that real-ity itself. It is in vain, they maintain, to pursue intellectually this stage, since all ratiocination on this point is useless, futile, and confusing. Thomas Merton calls this "the Zen fact" and com, pares it to an alarm clock. When it goes off, the sleeper 1) does not hear and just keeps on sleeping; or 2) making a misguided response, in effect turns the alarm off, permitting him to go back to sleep; or 3) he jumps out of bed with a shout of astonishment that it is so late. Zen is the alarm clock, it merely enables us to wake up and become aware. It teaches nothing. It points. Merton continues: "But we in the West, in ego-centered practicality and ¯ . . manipulation of everything, always pass from one thing to another, from cause to effect, from the first to the next to the last and then back to the first. Everything always points to something 3~dy-August 1993 513 McCown ¯ Christian Zen-cum-Ignatian Meditation else and hence we never stop anywhere because we cannot; as soon as we pause, the escalator reaches the end of the ride and we have to get off and find another one. Nothing is allowed just to be and to mean itself; everything has to signify something else. Zen is designed to frustrate the mind thinking in such terms. 'The Zen fact,' whatever it may be, always lands across our road like a fallen tree beyond which we cannot pass. Nor are such 'facts' lacking in Christianity--the Cross for example . . . which gives Christians a radically new consciousness." The way some Zen masters describe enlightenment, as an experience of the unity of all being, reflects the monistic, cos-motheistic, philosophical climate of Zen's origins; and it can be disconcerting to a Christian. Yet, if one takes seriously one of the central teachings of Zen itself~namely, that it is the experience and not the concept of it that matters--then one may judge pan-theistic doctrine as the above to be not central to Zen. Indeed such might be for us the "misguidance" that prompts us to turn off the alarm clock, to go back to sleep and miss the experience. The "fact" of Zen is simply the experience that puts us in touch with this ultimate personal reality itself, and that, I believe, must at last come down to be our own individual living soul--the con-crete reality, not a concept of it. We cannot think our way to our soul's living presence, or analyze or visualize it; but in doing Zen we are brought to the experience .of the soul's availing itself of space to renew itself, and then of its mysterious healing powers in renewing our body, mind, and heart. Being in Zen an apprentice of only some twenty-five years, a full-blown experience of enlightenment, with 'its sudden flash of intuition, is still unknown to me. Nor do I seek it as such; as Christian, I try to keep my heart open to whatever grace the Lord sends and to whatever form he wants it to take. But before we dismiss Zen and turn off the alarm clock, I suggest we take seriously stated opinions of respected specialists, not only of such as Thomas Merton or Dom Aelred Graham, but also of Dr. John C. H, Wu, an eminent jurist and diplomat, a Chinese convert to Catholicism, and a scholar, who is able to write of Zen not from hearsay or study alone, but from within. He is not afraid to write that he brought Zen and Confucianism with him into Christianity. Looking further back, I have been assured by Carmelites who are specialists in both their tradition of con-templation and in Christian Zen that these two traditions are 514 Review for Religious essentially the same: what Teresa of Avila, in her own inimitable way, and what John of the Cross--and what Meister Eckhart 200 years before them--practiced, perhaps unknown to them, was essentially Christian Zen. But what is Christian Zen, which we will now call centering prayer, and how is it prayer if traditional Zen is not? Will an attempt to use Zen in prayer, contrary to what Zen masters main-rain-- that one cannot accommodate true Zen to any ulterior pur-pose- render it ineffectual? To answer, let me offer an analogy. Consider a ballet apprentice who works daily on her technique. She may give little thought to what ballet grammar--the body language she is learning--might be saying or to whom; she metic-ulously strives only to perfect every move, every step of it. For the present, the immediate benefits of her efforts--pride in pleasing a respected teacher, satisfaction in mastering an art--are suffi-cient reasons for striving for self-discipline; and she grows daily in poise and beauty. But one day a certain impresario discovers her and offers her a part in a new production. Now she has two things she lacked before: a role, a dramatispersona to live within, and an envisioned audience. These give form and finality to her efforts. Just as this ballerina can adapt her previously acquired skills to this new orientation, so also, as many Christian contemplatives have found, the skills and the strengths of traditional Zen, with little change in its dynamics, can be fitted into the larger synthesis of Christian prayer. Neither our ballerina above, nor a person doing Zen medi-tations daily, acts without a certain basic desire, or even a pas-sion, which drives their actions, enabling them to keep a daily commitment. One must first wish to do what is necessary to become, to be--whether in ballet, in Zen, or in Christian prayer. Satisfaction found therein will, in turn, sustain and nourish the motivation. When the prophet Samuel was a small boy sleeping in the temple, he was awakened repeatedly by a voice calling, "Samuel, Samuel!" Each time he got up and went to his master, the elderly priest Eli, and asked what he wanted. Each time Eli replied, "I didn't call, my son; go and lie down again." Again Samuel heard the voice calling, and again he went to the old priest. But this time Eli, perceiving it was thd Lord calling, instructed him, "The next time he calls, you must respond, 'Speak, Lord, for your ser-vant is listening.'" Whether that night Samuel really heard the 3~uly-August 1993 515 McCown ¯ Christian Zen-cum-Ignatian Meditation voice of God, or whether he heard only, as he had many times before, the wind blowing through the porticos of the temple, his listening and then giving response is the same. It is the reality from which the call came that makes the difference between an obedient child and the prophet-to-be. We must listen continu-ously to the voice of the Lord who speaks to us when and how he chooses. If we find traditional Zen apt for putting us in contact with the healing and peace-giving powers of our human spirit within, how much more will we find centering prayer apt for opening our beings to the Spirit of God within us, to surrendering ourselves to this Healer, this Comforter? It will be this Spirit's voice we listen for within the sound of our breathing, as she leads us into that silence within, where, using utterances beyond human words, with ineffable groaning, she cries, "Abba, Father!" Far from taking from Zen its dignity, thi~ carries it to its fulfillment. What a grace it is that Christian contemplatives discovered Zen and were able to enrich Christian asdeticism with it. The Christ-centered dynamics of the Ignatian Spiritual Exercises, especially when renewed yearly, give peace and build motivations to service, but they were not meant to be used daily over a long period of time when they can become exhausting. Centering prayer, on the other hand, not in contrast to the Exercises but ancillary to them, offers spiritual repose. Many of Ignatius's instructions can be applied with profit to Zen.medita-tion: making preparation before meditation by spiritual reading and acts of self-denial; cultivating honesty and sincerity in eval-uating our efforts at praying; making from time to time reviews of moments of joy or of sadness; and, with the retreat master's help, using carefully Ignatius's instructions on the discernment of spirits. In sessions of centering prayer, unlike in other forms of med-itation, one does not pray the words of any pious text, nor even of Holy Scripture. Words, whether we want them to or not, will bloom into images, and images invite concepts which multiply, and thus we are on the way to taking our bodies and minds out of that total surrender to the Spirit, the true mode of centering prayer. Rather, we should see each session of this prayer as that time when the Bridegroom is present before us, looking into our eyes, speaking into our hearts, so we put aside during this qual-ity time his love-letters from times past, no matter how treasured 516 Review for Religious they are. With no more than a bow of adoration and a word to greet him by name, such as, "Jesus, have mercy on me, a sinner," we surrender ourselves with total passivity to his Spirit within us, who will shape our minds and hearts according to his holy will. In this action of the Spirit, one is reminded of a great, silent, mov-ing body of water, imperceptibly and with ease, carrying all obstacles before it. We will look forward to this daily prayer as the best moment of our day, and find in it an anchor for the rest of our lives. Let me mention now one special blessing I have received through centering prayer. When I was a very small child, I once heard my older brothers, one six, the other seven years old, talking about how hell is "for ever and ever--for eternity, which never, ever ends." My mind became beset with fearful images of this eternity, like "the void of infin-ity" that so terrified Pascal. These were most acute when I was ill, which I often was, with high fever, and with accompanying nightmares. During these I often dreamed I was looking up and saw the ceiling above me (and all reality with it) recede up and up and up, for ever and ever. My sight was forced to go with it, on and on, and I could never, ever make it stop; and that was eternity. And I felt desperately alone and forsaken. I could not turn off the nightmare, until my screams brought my father or mother who would awake me and comfort me. This terror remained with me even into later life. When I discovered Zen meditation, which then became for me centering prayer, I took up the custom, after meditating and during the brief prickly feeling as my legs recovered circulation, of lying back on the rug and looking straight up at the ceiling, never forgetting that this was the way I had so fearfully felt I was look-ing into the face of eternity. But over the years, gradually, imper-ceptibly, the terror departed. In its place has grown a trust in God's mercy and, even, flashes--ever so brief and fleeting--of joy in looking forward to my death, which now is approaching apace. These graces I consider among the most precious of my life. Remembering how the ancients strove to get the gods' atten-tion, we know we have already the Father's attention in his son, Jesus, who taught us to pray to his father by offering, not per- We must listen continuously to the voice of the Lord who speaks to us when and how he chooses. 3~ly-Aug'ust 1993 517 McCown ¯ Christian Zen-cum-Ignatian Meditation ishable gifts of animals slaughtered or wine or grain poured out, but one infinitely more desirable: our total selves. This same Jesus promised, moreover, "whatever you ask the Father in my name, he will give it to you." Jesus must have meant precisely that, unless we ask for something that is not good for us, then he will give us something else--something far better for us. Centering prayer, as an ancilla to the Spiritual Exercises, more than any other prayer method I know, enables us to put ourselves into this total trust-ing frame of mind, not stating what we think we want, or need, or when, but silently taking Jesus at his word and waiting. The Father, who knows our needs far better than we do, will respond; and why wouldn't he, since Jesus said he would? Night Prayer The saints have left for the day, their stained-glass coves Are dark. The night, that deep iconoclast, Obscures the panes with his breath, as a prayer revolves Inside me, calling to the blackened east. I close my eyes and linger there, in the glow Of a bleak and fallen image of the outcast world, And wander through remembered brambles that grow Where squandered immortalities should. When young I crossed an ocean. Nearing land Candescent seeds arose from the water's rim As if sown in the sky by a hopeful, graceful hand To mingle with a tide of stars, to bloom unseen. From the altar candles' final gasp of light Two tendrils of smoke vanish into night. Kevin McCaffrey OP 518 Revie~v for Religious MARY CORONA God's Human Face Revealed: A Retreat in Wales Iyhad been living and working in Amman, Jordan, for eight ears when in 1989 I began reading The Journeying Self, by Diarmuid McGann. Becoming deeply involved with it, I came across these words: "The journey of faith begins at the Lord's invitation. He finds us in our places of marginal existence, where we hunger for liberation." I did not go further than that for sev-eral months, but those lines I read over and over again. I could wrest no personal meaning from them, and yet somehow they riveted me. At the same time I was picking my way through a book by Karl Rahner. Being no scholar, "picking" is how I cope with Rahner, and yet I am hugely attracted by him. Of the many sentences I jotted down knowing that I would return to them, here are a few: In contemplation the pray-er is intent on hearing an utter-ance of God never given before . We need the courage to believe that God will say some-thing permanent. It will happen when God is ready. God places me in complete freedom. He deals with me leaving intact my autonomy and self-direction. God is Love and in the face of that--I decide. There were many more, and while I went about my life in community and my teaching duties, these thoughts floated in and out of my mind whenever my interior screen was empty, setting up such a longing that I knew I would need to respond sooner or later. Mary Corona FMDM lives at 6, St. Anthony's Road; Forest Gate; London E7 9QA; England. .~uly-Auguxt 1993 519 Corona ¯ God's Human Face Revealed Remote PreparationmI Go to Anjara The time to plan my annual retreat came round. I thought of Jerusalem, where I had made retreats before, but I had little heart for going there because of the heavy military presence at the time. Though Jordan itself has no retreat facilities, I knew that Father Joseph Na'maat, a diocesan priest in the north of Jordan, had spare rooms in a separate building which anyone was welcome to use on a self-catering basis. He said if I came during July I would have the entire building to myself. With typical Jordanian courtesy he also told me that his house and his table would be mine anytime I felt lonely. Josephine, his housekeeper, would, he assured me, keep an eye on things and make sure I was all right. The fee was so small it was a joke. So eight days on my own loomed. How would I work it out? I went along the shelves of our library and found Rahner's Eight Day Retreat and a paperback copy of the Ignatian Exercises. From my room I picked up my Bible and missal and that was all. I think the journey of faith McGann discusses began for me that day. I felt quite naked going off with what seemed so little in the way of resources. Anjara is a village in the northern Jordanian countryside. Feeling at home in the Arab world and having enough Arabic to do my own shopping, talk with people, and get by generally, I had no fears along those lines. On my arrival I was given a warm welcome by Father Joseph and the redoubtable Josephine. Then, after being shown "my" building and handed the keys, I heard the oft-repeated words "If it gets too lonely, you know where we are!" That first evening I worked out a program for the eight days, allotting time for the breviary, rosary, and Scripture reading. I then marked out three separate hours daily for prayer, leaving time for rest and recreation which, during the eight days, would take the form of walks, sitting on the roof in the sun absorbing the view, and wandering in my host's extensive orchard followed by his floppy old dog. Knowing nothing previously about the Exercises, I soon aban-doned the paperback because it made no sense to me.I stuck to the Bible and the missal and continued to read over the sentences from McGann and Rahner which had so affected me. For the full eight days I spoke to no one, except the dog. I waved to Father Joseph each morning after Mass and that was the excitement over 520 Review for Religious for the day. Through the grace of God, I remained faithful to all to which I had committed myself. On my final evening Josephine came to bring me over to sup-per and, like the hedgerow and byways folk of the gospel, I was compelled to attend. If you have never experienced an Arab sup-per or indeed Arab hospitality, you have missed one of life's love-lier moments. We sat on the verandah eating, talking, and--I must admit--drinking slightly too much of Father Joseph's homemade wine. The sun slowly sank behind the brown hills. Lamps were lit, creating a soft pool of light in the velvet darkness, and the night insects began their con-cert. We sat on. Eventually, however, and with real reluctance I rose, to a duet from Father Joseph and Josephine of "So soon?" I went to bed that night heavy with good food and wine and quite drunk--no, not from wine, but from the heady smell of honeysuckle and jasmine coupled with the heart-swell that comes from having spent a long summer evening with friends. The following day I returned to Amman knowing that I must do the long retreat. This is where the invitation mentioned by McGann and previously so dimly perceived was pointing. What a Franciscan was doing being so convinced that a Jesuit approach to life and prayer was the right one, I cannot say. But convinced I was. I waved to Father Joseph each morning after Mass and that was the excitement over for the day. To Wales I set about obtaining permissions for the following year and began to look for a place. Almost everyone I spoke to suggested looking for a Jesuit-run center, saying this w6uld be right for what I had in mind. But I prefer retreat houses run by women: they are cozier, and I like my creature comforts. After a few blanks I got a positive answer from a small guest-cum-retreat house, Coleg y Groes, in North Wales. Yes, they could take me. Yes, one of them could direct me. Yes, they were in the heart of the coun-try, and to all my other questions yes . . . yes . . . yes. I booked, hesitant to share with some of my more conservative friends that all was not as they might expect. I would be alone without the support of a group; I would be directed by a deacon, not a priest; 3~uly-Aug~tst 199.t 521 Corona ¯ God's Human Face Revealed worse still, an Anglican deacon; worse again, a woman Anglican deacon! What would Ignatius have said? In August 1990 I returned to England, and in July 1991 I traveled to Wales. Arriving in time for supper, I found the small 18th-century house nestled behind the Anglican parish church in the village of Corwen. My room was very nice, with the promise of quiet. My quick eye noticed the electric kettle, tea bags, and coffee. It all augured well. I began to get the sinking feeling that comes from having made a big decision and then eeing the signs going wrong. I Meet My Directress Margaret, who was to direct me, suggested I join the other guests for supper that first evening; after that I would dine alone. Supper was served in a delightful low-beamed room with a huge fireplace cut from Welsh stone. Flowers were in the deeply set window alcoves, and the whole place exuded security and good living. I began, however, to get the sinking feeling that comes from having made a big decision and then seeing the signs going wrong. To my Roman mind the conversation became so Anglican, cen-tered on the ordination of women. Most of the women present, and indeed Margaret her-self, were ordained deacons. It was the last thing I wanted to get involved in. Intermingled with that were fairly long dis-sertations on the three resident cats. I drained my coffee cup as I tried to quell the rising panic within me. Relief came when Margaret suggested we go to my room for a first talk. In five minutes my fears evaporated. I knew instinctively that in her I was on to a winner. That night I slept well, waking totally refreshed. I made coffee, and one glance at the Welsh weather put me into warm trousers and a thick sweater. In the still sleeping village I found the small Catholic church. Inside, in a back pew, was a very still figure. I knelt down near the door, ready to escape if this man were not the sort I ought to seek out for company. After some minutes he looked up and said "Welcome." This was Father Joseph (I seemed destined to be mixed up with Josephs and 522 Revie'w for Religious Josephines). In answer to my question he said that so seldom did anyone come for daily Mass that we could arrange it any time suited to the two of us. Father became a true friend to me during my thirty days. He watched over me with such care and was always available for counsel or confession. That first morning he arranged for me to have a key to the church so that I could come and go at will. He knew Margaret and felt I was safe in her hands. The Thirty Days Begin And so the routine for the thirty days began. Margaret sug-gested that for the first three days I just browse over my own favorite passages of Scripture, go for walks, and take on an atmo-sphere of quiet. That first morning I took my Bible and went out. I sat overlooking a sweeping green valley and read slowly through some of my favorites: "Widen the spaces of your tent." (Is 55:2); "Behold the Bridegroom is coming." (Mt 25:7); "May He give you the power., to grow strong . " (Ep 3:16-21). And through it all I wondered just what I was doing, alone in Wales, on the threshold of this experience. Those first three days went in very gently. Sleep, walks, quiet reading, and three one-hour prayer periods a day. The kettle, tea, and coffee played their part. On the fourth day we started in earnest into the pattern of the retreat. We moved into four one hour periods of prayer a day. Each "day" would begin at 5 p.m. The four "weeks" were to be flexible as regards length. Margaret spent considerable time giving me the background to the Exercises. As she spoke, words from Robert Gleeson's intro-duction to Anthony Mottola's translation of the Exercises came back to me: "Ignatius intended to stay in Manresa for a few days. These days stretched into ten months with results that are still reverberating around the world." Yes, I thought, even to Corwen. Something of Margaret's own love for Ignatius overflowed into me. Here was no mere competent guide, but rather one who was imbued with the spirit of Ignatius. I felt very secure, but real-ized Margaret was no soft touch as she explained the conditions: no reading, other than that prescribed; no music, news, corre-spondence, conversation, and so forth. She spoke of the neces-sity of being utterly faithful to the full one-hour prayer periods, and she warned me off interior conversation which could easily become the little foxes destroying the vineyard. When she had July-Auffust 1993 523 Corona ¯ God's Human Face Revealed finished, my snug feeling of security had drastically slipped, to he replaced by a sense of vulnerable nakedness. Thus stripped I entered the first "week" of the retreat. The First Week (Seven Days) Sin, in its hideousness, was the focus of this first week. Powerful meditations on words previously heard but never fully absorbed came back to influence my prayer. The First Principle and Foundation offered at the beginning of this week presented such a challenge thai it almost unseated me. Could I, in complete sincerity, make such a prayer? Part of my background reading said, "This law which I enjoin on you this day is not beyond your strength" (Dr 30:11-14). These words stood, like a kind mother, beside the demands of the First Principle and Foundation, urging me to compliance. Yet I hesitated. I moved on into the sin of Adam and Eve; the Angels; the Prodigal Son--all meditated on against a background of Philippians 2:1-11, Baruch 1:13-22 and 63, and Ephesians 1:13- 14 and all deepening in me an appreciation of the heinousness of sin. Karl Rahner says (I quote from memory), "I need to see sin, not so much as an offence against God, but rather as a rebuff against Jesus personally," and "I see him wasting there on the cross--for us--and ~eeing him in such plight, I make my deci-sion." It is difficult to take a detached view of sin with words like that running round one's mind. As the first week was coming to a close, the next commit-ment point was drawing near, the Kingdom meditation with its inbuilt self-offering; and yet I had still not made the First Principle and Foundation my own. I felt discouraged. If I could not per-sonalize the sentiments of the First Principle and Foundation, was there any point in going on? I told Margaret of my difficulty. She suggested rewriting it in language I would feel at home with. And that proved to be the answer. It was the stiff, masculine lan-guage that was getting in the way. After rewriting it in my own words, I could accept what Deuteronomy had been trying to tell me. On the seventh evening Margaret said that tomorrow would be a repose day. She explained what this meant: one prayer period this evening, a good night's sleep, then, after morning Mass, out for the day; on my return in the evening, one more prayer period 524 Review for Religious before she came to see me. She gave me a few ideas as to where I could go. I chose Llangollen: it seemed a place where I could continue to be quiet while doing something different. The Kingdom Meditation-- and Some Sort of Disturbance The meditation given me for the eve of the repose day was the Kingdom, so after supper, and with my inner eye on my day out, I settled down to this period of reflective prayer--and it all went wrong. The whole hour tumbled around in a confusion of despon-dency and misery. I saw myself as a hypocrite and a fool and felt sick with disappointment and embar-rassment. I was not being called as Rahner sug-gested; this was all totally beyond me regardless of Deuteronomy; there was nothing here for me. Some of us are destined for mediocrity; I was obviously one such. Illusion would get me nowhere, and get-ting nowhere was costing a lot of money and time. Leaving my room, I went out into the garden. The moon was riding high, swiftly brushing aside the small clouds which, busy about their own affairs, were trotting along in the opposite direc-tion. Shadows flitted about the garden, and some-where nearby an owl hooted. Further away a dog was barking, but it soon trailed off into a lazy yawn--his heart just was not in it. And here, under the canopy of deep sky, my thought slowly came together and clarified; I began to see what was going on. I returned to my room and found my crucifix and holding it firmly commanded, in the name and power of the crucified and resur-rected Christ, everything not of God to depart. I repeated the command twice. The result: "The storm abated and there was a great calm" (Mk 4:39). Without further ado I made my Kingdom offering as given by Ignatius, went to bed, and slept. Some of US are destined for mediocrity; I was obviously one such. The First Repose Day A glorious day of sunshine and Welsh mountains. A ride on the Railway Enthusiasts' railway from Llangollen along the moun-tainside to Deeside Halt; a leisurely walk by the canal where later I sat and ate my sandwiches while watching boys--up to the age ~uly-Aug'ust 1993 525 Corona ¯ God's Human Face Revealed of forty plus--playing with their boats. Full of fresh air and peace, I returned to Corwen on an early evening bus. Each turn in the road presented a different scene to delight the heart, and I found myself silently singing the word of St. Francis's Canticle of the Sun: "All praise be yours, my Lord, through all that you have made., and first for Brother Sun. how beautiful he is! How radiant!., and Brothers Wind and Air. and all the weathers' moods . " It seemed so appropriate. (Something I discovered during these thirty days was that Francis and Ignatius have much in common.) After supper Margaret came, and I told her of the previous night's upset. She said it was to be expected and then referred me to the description of discernment of spirits in the Exercises, where it was all clearly set out. The important thing, she said, was that I had made the Kingdom offering. Much was gained and nothing at all lost. The Second Week (Eleven Days) And so into the second week. I traveled far in that week. Journeying with Jesus through his life in the given meditations, I became aware of another journey I was making, toward a deeper commitment--and yet my previous fear of.fidl commitment reared up again and again. The demand was too clear, too total, too final. There was no space for maneuver. I stalled badly and frequently during that week. Margaret advised me to use the First Principle and Foundation offering and also the Kingdom offering as ways into the given meditations. She also gave me some salutary advice: "Don't try to give today what properly belongs to tomorrow." "The grace for the future is not yet being offered." I remembered similar advice given me in the past. As a young sister I had made a group retreat under a Carmelite friar. In one of his talks he said that many people fail to advance because they quail before what they fear may be asked of them if they say an unreserved yes. They forget that God is totally to be trusted and would never take unfair advantage of a generous yes. A superior, at a later date, took up the same theme with me (it seems I have had this lack-of-trust problem forever!) and said: "The Lord is total courtesy. He doesn't grab. He looks at what you have and asks 'May I take this?' If you refuse, he will not insist--for the time being any-way." Urn--for the time being. 526 Review for Religious The Two Standards and the Three Classes of Men These meditations caused the same problem that the First Principle and Foundation and the Kingdom had caused; as I saw it, all called for total and irrevocable commitment. Again I had to remind myself of what Margaret had said and what the Carmelite friar and my own superior had said when I was just knee high in my religious life. I spent long hours beg-ging the grace of trust. I tried to reset my focus and not waste precious time looking at abstract problems and missing the grace of reality. I turned to St. Francis at this stage and found his presence a great comfort. On the twentieth day, after lots of struggle but also tremendous peaks of joy and achievement, Margaret suggested I spend one day drawing the experience of the entire two weeks together and then summarize it in a truth-ful prayer of offering. As I set about doing this, I found it amaz-ing how I could look back along the road I had traveled and see so clearly the efforts, frustrations, joys, hopes, gains, losses, and desires and the loneliness and--running in and out of it all like a flame in dry grass--the'fear. And yet ~omehow it all came together with a marvelous coherence: everything fitted. I could see, with a rare clarity, that God was with me. I had moved. I had definitely moved. I had moved light years from where I had been two weeks previously. For better or for worse, I had moved. The agonizing lack of trust, the fears, the anxieties were all part of this pattern of walking. The Lord had supplied where I had been weak. Together we had made it through these two weeks. He had blessed me beyond all imagining and had accepted my desire as though it were something of substance. I was content. On the twenty-second day, a repose day, I went to Ruthin and presume I had a relaxed day, but I have no memory of it. Without the brief note in my journal saying I had been there, I would not know I had. What that says about me I have no idea. I could see, with a rare clarity, that God was with me. I had moved. The Third Week (Five Days) Margaret moved me into the last earthly days of Jesus. Over the next days, spread over five one-hour meditation periods, which j~¢O-dugust1993 527 Corona ¯ God's Human Face Revealed included a midnight hour, I contemplated the Lord at the Last Supper, Gethsemane, and Calvary and right through to the postresurrecfion period. Having visited the Holy Land many times while living in the Middle East, I found it very easy to situate these meditations, but somehow the depths eluded me. On the twenty-fourth day Margaret suggested that I spend four of my five one-hour prayer periods reading through the four different accounts of the Passion. Anyone who has done this in one day will know it does not come easy. Physically it is draining to read something of that nature and length with concentration. By the evening it had quite taken me over, and after supper I went for a long walk, but somehow I could not shake off (was I even meant to?) the felt heaviness of trudging the Calvary road four times. Another Disturbance It is not easy to stay with someone in agony while knowing you are part responsible. During the night I woke in the grip of a strange tension, feel-ing physically cold and frightened. I have never been especially brave, but I am not given to irrational fear, and this sense of men-ace was wholly irrational; yet it made me feel that, if I did not give up this retreat, it would break me. For several minutes I did nothing beyond switching on the light and allowing the fear to swamp me. Fear of what? I could put no name to it. Then I remembered Margaret's words, based on those of Ignatius: "It is common for the evil spirit to cause sad-ness, fear, discouragement, and acute anxiety and to place all sorts of obstacles in the way of right reason. The good spirit gives courage, strength, inspiration, light, and peace so that right reason will prevail. Learn to distin-guish." Once again I reached for my crucifix and holy water and followed my previous routine. All returned to normal, but it took some time. The twenty-sixth day I spent quietly looking back over the entire Passion. It proved to be a very hard day. It is not easy to stay with someone in agony while knowing you are part responsible. On the twenty-seventh day, another repose day, I went to Lake Bala. It was a beautiful day, but too hot. Tourists and pic-nickers were all over the place--not helpful. I found the Catholic 528 Review for Religious church, a small converted stable. It was very peaceful, and I stayed quietly there for some time before boarding the bus for the ride home through heart-lifting scenery. The Fourth Week--Coming to the End I was now coming to the end of this whole experience, and Margaret suggested moving back from five to four periods of prayer, 6mitring the night one. She also brought me a tape recorder and some classical-music tapes. Winning some grand prize could not have brought me more joy. I was ecstatic. On the twenty-eighth day I meditated on John 20:11-18, Mary Magdalen's encounter with Jesus in the garden, with Isaiah 30:18- 26 and 35:1-10 as background. I also used Luke 24:13-35, the Emmaus story, with Psalm 62 as background. I became quite filled with the quiet. Jesus' sufferings were over. His pain was finished. I was able to walk calmly in the garden with Mary Magdalen--you see, I knew the answer to her question. The Emmaus road also was peaceful. Again I had the advantage: I knew who he was. All this was leading me quite naturally into the Contemplation to Attain Divine Love. From the twenty-ninth day onward I used this con-templation for one period each day, the other three periods cov-ering postresurrection Scripture. I continued my daily walks in the serene countryside, which for me became Galilee, where Jesus said he wo~ld meet his friends again and where I myself have walked many times. A Final Disturbance One meditation, on the thirtieth day, was given over to the events that include Jesus cooking breakfast for his hungry disci-ples. As I moved further into the scene, it all changed and became blasphemous; but I did not recognize it as such. My discerning powers were, it seemed, in suspension. During Mass the follow-ing morning I became aware that something had been very wrong with that meditation. I looked back at it and saw immediately the gross irreverence of the scenes which had been presented to my view. I was aghast and marveled that I had not realized at the time what was going on. I went hotfoot to Father Joseph after Mass and poured out my sorry story. He took it all very calmly--as con-fessors are apt to do--and explained how the devil will use every July-August 1993 529 Corona ¯ God's Human Face Revealed possible means to stop a person pursuing a course that has as its aim a closer union with God. Margaret, of course, said the same thing. The experience left me with a profound disgust of the one who works such evil things. The Final Days The thirty-first and final day arrived. I drew together the ele-ments of the four key meditations--the Kingdom, the Two Standards, the Three Classes of Men, the Three Modes of Humility. I then moved them into a prayer of offering that I tried to make utterly truthful and realistic for me. Later that day I had a final few words with Father Joseph and returned the keys of the church. Back at the house I had a last talk with Margaret and my retreat was over. The following day I left Corwen and--via Wrexham, Chester, Crewe, Euston, and Plaistow, changing train or bus at each one--I arrived home in London. Eighteen Months Later Days have built on days, and a year and a half has passed since my long retreat. By now it should have gone the way of all the others. It has not done so. Father Joseph's words during our final talk, "You will never be the same again, this experience has changed you," have stayed with me; I know them to be true. That retreat has changed many things. It has set sin in its right context, one which makes scant distinction between small and big offenses. It has cleared away any number of secondary purposes and under-lined the one purpose for which I was born. It has filled my store-rooms with kindling, that I may not perish when my winter fires burn low. It has increased my recovery rate, so that sin and repen-tance are almost simultaneous. It has brought a staying power I never thought to possess; a strength to stay with prayer even when, apparently, there is nothing in it to stay for. It has brought an acceptance that I am as I am and, as far as performance goes, the future will not be much different; progress will still be wob-bly, with backward steps, with fears and sin. But this acceptance of my situation has brought a new dependence; I know I will make it through to the end if I cling like a limpet to Christ. There is, quite simply, no other way. 530 ' Re~ie~ for Religious The Human Face of God But overriding and underpinning all this is the greatest change of all. I am aware that, through all the contemplations of that month, even those during which I was distracted, irritated, fidgety, or just plain bored, God was working. He was working as one whose work it is to take an old manuscript, mosaic, or fresco and restore it to its original beauty; he was etching and bringing into relief, for me personally, the lines of his own human face. I can no longer think of God without, at the same time, seeing Christ; I see him, in some small measure, as Francis of Assisi saw him in great, in the people, however seemingly insignificant, and in the events, however trivial, that form th~ fabric of my everyday life. This new vision is the greatest grace to accompany me into these, the afterdays. The word "Wales" will never again mean for me just a geo-graphical place, hut rather will set a pause for remembering: remembering that revelation did not end with the Apocalypse; remembering how God revealed his face to me in Wales; remem-bering how something of beauty was planted within me and has, in spite of me, continued to grow. My life has become perma-nently divided into "before Wales" and "after Wales." And it all started way back in Jordan, where I "hungered for liberation" and knew myself "intent on hearing an utterance of God never given before" (in the words of McGann and Rahner) and felt strongly impelled, Franciscan and all that I am, to take up the invitation to an Ignatian experience. That, and so much more, is what my long retreat was all about. Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distri-bution, advertising, or institutional promotion or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will be consid-ered only on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. July-August 1993 531 TAD DUNNE What Trouble Is spiritual life Most of us, at some lull in the cacophony of life, think to ourselves, "I really should be a person who . " And we take some stand on avoiding trouble. Of course, trouble wears many hats. There is the regular trouble of having to learn through our mistakes. There is our unwitting igno-rance of the times when our behavior makes others roll their eyes. Or maybe the trouble is our own doing, like the lies we lay on others and the follow-up work we lay on ourselves just to keep our stories straight. Or like the legacy of emotional trouble callous parents bequeath to their children that continues long after they have died and the children have grown up. The stand we take to avoid trouble is usually rather elemental. We hope a simple strategy can meet every kind of trouble coming our way. Not that we succeed. Indeed, the reason we do not succeed may well be that the way we defined our troubles was a big mistake. This is why, for many of us, our images of God are shaped less by our experience of divine help or by the Scriptures and more by how we conceptualized our getting into trouble in the first place. When people describe their spiritual journeys to me, they usually divide the chapters according to this or that difficulty from which God delivered them, but the difficulties were defined very often by simple earthly sym-bols, not by any measures drawn from revelation. Tad Dunne writes on contemporary spirituality. His address is 2923 Woodslee; Royal Oak, Michigan 48073. 532 Review for Religious We get most of the symbols of our troubles from the drama of everyday life--a vacillating boss, a domineering spouse, hard work with no reward, bad weather, and so on. But where people draw the line on what is unacceptable to them will vary nation to nation, old to young, woman to man, race to race. So, before we assume that our view of trouble is totally objective, we need to look instead at the experiences of trouble common to everyone. Then we can look at what the gospel says about trouble and make comparisons about what we have observed. Our universally common experiences of trouble lie not in the dramatic but in the practical patterns in our experiences--expe-riences like carrying burdens, feeling slowed down, running into roadblocks, taking chances and missing, setting schedules and failing to meet them, planting seeds that produce puny fruit, arranging our surroundings carefully and finding that the sur-roundings have trapped us. Everyone, in any culture, grows up with these practical troubles and looks for ways to overcome them. The Example of Physics For the sake of talking about these analogs of our miseries, it will help to classify them. One simple way follows the example of physics. In physics we expect events to occur either in a natural relationship to other events or just coincidentally. While physicists talk about the naturally related events by using terms like elec-tromagnetism, gravity, or inertia, children simply notice that when A happens, then B usually happens. Behind the merely coinci-dental events lie no laws at all, so physicists talk about probabil-ities and norms while ordinary people talk about taking chances and seizing once-in-a-lifetime opportunities. Each of these two kinds of expectations, of regularity and of chance, gets frustrated in its own way. Regularity is frustrated when a routine is broken or a law is not followed. Chance is frus-trated when overcontrol eliminates the lucky chance or when exceptions to the rule are somehow ruled out of court. But each kind excludes the other, and so, pressured as we ar.e by this intrin-sic antinomy to Choose only one as our fundamental code for translating experience into meaning, some of us worship a God of Law and others a God of Freedom. The Broken Routine. The God of Law is incarnated in our ear- 3~uly-August 1993 533 Dunne ¯ What Trouble Is God brings salvation by giving laws to maintain order and by raising up saints to serve as our examples. liest teacher of regularity: the sun. It gives us as children a sym-bol of what it means to be faithful, kindly, and dependable. We learn at an early age what our race took eons to formulate in a principle: that bodies in motion keep going and bodies at rest stay where they are. If only people could be that orderly! So we experience the trouble of broken routine. Things are going smoothly and something interrupts. Interruptions and contradictions are our enemies, though we can never fully avoid them. Better calm down and do what God expects and all shall be well. Pity those who live in chaos, who seem never to settle down, who spend their lives searching for they know not what. They could well learn a lesson from nature that life lies in regu-larity and dependability. This elemental experience of day alter-nating with night has a remarkable influence on the loftiest and most religious levels of our psyches. We imagine the kingdom of God as a smooth meshing of generation upon generation of peo-ple, as if the oiling of divine grace was meant to eliminate all fric-tion between people. God is an implacable and consistent Trinity, a perfect community, an example which every human family and nation is called to imitate as far as possible. God brings salvation by giving laws to maintain order and by raising up saints to serve as our examples. Life is essentially a struggle of law and order over anarchy and extreme independence. OvercontroL The second kind of trouble is practically the oppo-site of the first. As the first kind loves controls, the second hates them. At some time in our growing up, when we discover that we have taken too many of our parents' controls to heart, we start to wriggle free of them. We take a chance. When governments lay such heavy controls on people that hardly anything is left to chance, we condemn them. The worst kind of control, of course, is self-imposed--when I make more resolutions than I could pos-sibly keep or when I forbid myself to ever try anything daring or maturing. Trouble is anything that impedes probabilities. These elemental experiences tell us that God is a God of free-dom, calling us to a radical trust in all we do. The voice is per- 534 Review for Religious vasive: Let go of trying to control everything and everyone; you are ruining yourself in the process and will never succeed in any case. God will never lay a load on your back without also giving you a strohg back with which to carry it. "Look at the birds of the air . " Human planning is largely a waste of time. The goals of our endeavors so seldom match their outcomes that it is a won-der we keep on setting goals. God will intervene at the oppor-tune moment; divinity cannot be pinned down to laws and predictability. And so on. The Example of Biology Notice how these first two kinds of order and trouble are dis-tinguished by whether or not individual events are either part of some repeating cycle or the result of mere chance. We can also look at sequences of events or stages in something undergoing development. Again, to keep this simple, we can distinguish two fundamental kinds of development, those driven by a single law or principle and those driven by forces only coincidentally related to each other. The single-law kind can be illustrated by seeds. Tulip bulbs develop tulips, not dandelions, and, within quite narrow ranges of development, tulips everywhere look alike. Multiple-principle development can be represented by human relation-ships. People's values differ from each other across the face of the earth far more than tulips do. The reason is that the genetic coding in the fertilized egg that each of us once was does not confine the range of our potential development anywhere near as tightly as the tulip's coding does. Growing up, we continually "recode" ourselves by our choices. By interacting with others we develop in dialectical fashion, making something unrepeatable of both ourselves and our surroundings. If both the genetic (single-law) and the dialectical (multiple-principle) kinds of development are elemental,-then we can expect them to precondition what we mean by trouble and, by exten-sion, what we mean by God's saving grace. Again, the dichotomy between these two kinds of development tends to force a reli-gious choice between a God of Success and what I shall call a God of Exchange. The Weeds among the Wheat. One kind of trouble is caused by bad beginnings. It concerns anyone anxious to make continual July-August 1993 535 Dunne ¯ 14/-bat Trouble Is growth and progress, anyone who worships the God of Success. Long before people study genetics in biology, they experience built-in potentials and patterns of growth everywhere, in flow-ers, birds, and house pets. But some elements interfere with nat-ural fulfillment and choke the natural process of growth. These elements may be people, who themselves have been affected by their own upbringing. The notion here is that people are basi-cally good and that, given rich soil and hearty fertilizer, every person and every project will turn out a success. The worst form of this kind of trouble shows when a person feels predestined to fail because of some original and irreparable personality flaw. If we develop sheerly by genetic laws, then it would follow that God calls us to be creators, to overcome obstacles, and to keep a positive spirit. There is no doubt that the kingdom will come; the inner workings of grace in history guarantee it, sure as an acorn will become an oak. Our job is simply to help it come more quickly. It will be a kingdom of exciting new discoveries, increasing cooperation among all people, and continual improve-ment in people's health and happiness. The Good News is simply the announcement that Jesus loves you and that you have the germ of grace within you. Sin is ignorance, not malice. Evangelization is chiefly education; moral reform will follow auto-matically. In the meantime, we are called to grow in holiness, to grow closer and closer to God like a blossoming flower. Hoarding Energy. This fourth kind of trouble is also about growth, but the pattern of development is determined by a series of events related to each other only by chance. We notice how living things are determined not only by origins or seeds but through a continual exchange with their environments. Here biol-ogy studies how living things give and take within their ,sur-roundings. Flowers give honey to bees while the bees ensure progeny for the flowers. While genetic coding strictly limits any one bee's behavior, the location of beehives and the proliferation of flowers are interdependent. Should a storm wipe out one, the other soon disappears. So nature's contentious personality gives us a symbol of a God of give-and-take, a historical God, an engaged God. Farmers plow their fields and their fields return corn. The better the plowing the better the corn and the better the farmer. The quality of the exchange has a dialectical effect on both sides. 536 Revieva for Religious The same goes for the growth and decay of our friendships. Eventually the friendship is either good for both of us or good for neither one. Trouble comes when things cost more than they return. If a boy exasperates his friends by compulsive chatter, he does not feel energized. He wears everyone out, including himself. Then there is the trouble we cause when we take more from the phys-ical environment than we contribute to it, as is evident in oil spills, acid rains, and fluorocarbon-charged spray cans. Whatever the case, there is trouble eithe

Issue 40.3 of the Review for Religious, May/June 1981. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. © 1981 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. 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: $10.00 a year; $19.00 for two years. For subscriplion orders or change of address, write: REVIFW I:OU RELIGIOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55802. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Jeremiah L. Alberg, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Book Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor May/June, 1981 Volume 40 Number 3 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REVIEW RELtGIOUS; 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 REVII-:w for RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. The Feel of Apostolic Contemplation-in- Action David J. Hassel, S.J. Father Hassel's earlier article, "The Fourth Level of Prayer: Mystery," appeared in the November, 1980 issue. The present article is also a chapter from his projected book on prayer. Father's address is: Jesuit Community; Loyola University; 6525 N. Sheridan Rd.; Chicago, IL 60626. To contemplate is to see a thing or an event or a person as a whole. It is to grasp the totality of a situation and then to let wonder rise, deep fears and hopes surface, the fire of ambition be kindled, and the still-point of one's being touched. Thus contemplation not only views wholeness but also begins to instill it in the contemplator, an experience much needed in our fragmenting times. Persons lacking commitment to focus their energies, families lacking the love to heal their wounds, and nations lacking noble purpose to render them united--all need contemplation as much as the thirsty and starving need drink and food.' Now the power of contemplation appears in theaction which it structures and directs. Thus contemplation-in-action not only carries appreciation for the whole of a situation and thus renders the contemplator more wholesome but also enters into the very situation contemplated to make it more wholesome. For this reason, the more active a person is and the more deeply he or she interacts with others, the more important becomes contemplation for this person's every action. Indeed, the more explicitly tThis thirst and hunger for the meaning and wholeness of life is eloquently and poignantly record-ed in Studs Terkel's interviews with people from all walks of life. His contemplative book, Work-ing (Avon, New York, 1975, pp. xiii-xv) discovers "the happy few who find a savor in their daily job," and the many whose discontent is hardly concealed: 321 322 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 aware we become of contemplation-in-action within our experience, the better we can promote it in ourselves and in others for the healing of our wounded world. But, as always, difficulties arise which keep us from recognizing contem-plation- in-action and from living it more deeply within our experience. First of all, one can observe with envy the high intensity of secular contemplation in the action of artist or business person and can then expect this same intensity to occur within one's own religious contemplation-in-action. False expecta-tions always result in discouragement. Secondly, because monastic people do much of the writing about contemplation, one can mistake monastic contemplation for the apostolic type more characteristic of lay people, diocesan clergy, and active religious orders. Again, confusion here can dissipate religious energies. A third problem connected with recognizing contemplation-in-action is that the latter is an awareness permeating all one's activities. Therefore, it cannot be exposed by merely lifting off one or other layer of experience, nor be isolated by tracing its roots in one particular activity. Consequently--and this is the fourth difficulty--contemplation-in-action will express itself in a great variety of modes as it appears at diverse levels of experience and in different activities, even though it may be a single pervasive attitude. As a result, a person may be lamenting his or her failure at contemplation-in-action while unknowingly practicing it with some success. Perhaps the following exploration2 of these four problems may yield some inkling of what contemplation-in-action is and some recognition of how the contemplative-in-action feels. This, in turn, could be the source of new satisfaction in one's life, perhaps even the beginning of a certain settled happiness. Religious Contemplation-in-Action Out of the Secular The first problem facing us is the confusion of secular with religious contemplation-in-action--an understandable mistake since the first naturally leads into the second. Like all forms of contemplation-in-action, the secular variety discovers and promotes remarkable wholeness in the contemplator and in the object contemplated. For example, the portrait-artist, while center-ing her consciousness intensely upon the child to be painted, tends to fall in love with the latter as feeling and insight blend gradually into the beautiful whole of the portrait and of the person portrayed. The craftsman, too, is fascinated as the pitcher, shaping under his hands at the potter's wheel, is lifted out of the clay in a blend of graceful shape with smooth pouring. The 2I am greatly indebted to Vincent Towers, S.J., James Maguire, S.J. and Donald Abel, S.J. for their detailed comments on the rough drafts of this article, to Mrs. Mary Ellen Hayes for advice and technical assistance, to Dr. Julia Lane for expert encouragement, to the Warrenville (!11.) Cenacle community for their helpful.suggestions. Contemplation-in-Action / ~2~ novelist also shares in this disciplined joy of secular contemplation-in-action. Saul Bellow could not have given us Herzog, nor J. D. Salinger presented us with Holden Caulfield of The Catcher in the Rye, unless each had gone through a period of 'possessed aloofness' while in his imagination he watched and chronicled the full-bodied development of Herzog or Holden out of a vast variety of detailed activities. In the artist or craftsman or novelist, then, one witnesses the power of secular contemplation-in-action for producing that beautiful whole which delights the artist's own heart and the hearts of all beholders. But such contemplation-in-action is not limited to the sphere of the arts. Watch parents playing with their firstborn child and note their total concen-tration on eliciting new responses from it. As the child slowly unfolds before their eyes during its first twenty-four months, they become ever more dedicated to educating it to beautiful soundness of body, mind, and emotions. If this is not contemplation-in-action, what is? In a similar way, the neurosurgeon, carefully and even exultantly applying his previous week's study of X rays, medical research, and techniques to a brain operation, also experiences this contemplation-in-action as he restores wholesome life to his patient. So, too, the lawyer contemplates-in-action when she manages to see her way through the myriad details of a personal injury suit towards those underlying legal principles which will structure for her a forceful, tight case on behalf of her client, Nor is the business person without contemplation-in-action when intense ambition is painting a new vision and directing precise lines of energy to effect this vision. The resultant business organization is a daring orchestration of people and processes brought to total life for the wholesome delight of the business person's mind and heart and for the good of the community. Evidently, then, secular contemplation-in-action operates within any work, artistic or scientific, speculative or practical, to produce wholesomeness in both the contemplator and the action-situation. Explicitly, each of us has, in some way, experienced these types of secular contemplation-in-action and implicitly we compare their qualities with those of our own religious contemplation-in-action--to the depreciation of the lat-ter. Each of us asks in guilt: "Where in my religious contemplation-in-action is the intense centering, the fascinated.vision, the possessed aloofness, the total concentration and dedication, the exultant application to life, the deep satisfaction in wholeness, and the intense ambition of secular contemplatives-in- action?" Why should not the religious contemplative-in-action be \ discouraged--especially if he equates secular and religious contemplation-in-action and does not know that they are meant to nourish each other reciprocally and precisely out of their difference. To understand their respec-tive differences, let us consider how they cooperate. Religious contemplation-in-action completes the secular. For the wholes of self and of object discovered by secular contemplation-in-action take on fuller meaning and larger value witfiinthe more comprehensive wholes of the 324 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 everyday world and of God as these are found by religious contemplation-in-action. A dynamic reciprocity operates here between the two types of contemplation-in-action. As the secular contemplative-in-action (artist, business person, parent, neurosurgeon, or lawyer) enters more deeply into the object to find its wholeness, he becomes more aware of his personal wholeness since the intense concentration on the object demands full awareness of his powers. But such total awareness of object and of self eventually leads into fuller awareness of the everyday world since the secular contemplative must fit himself and the object contemplated into the larger world of, e.g., serving a client, supporting a family, relaxing socially with friends; wondering about the worth of the object produced by the secular contemplation-in-action. Eventually every secular contemplative-in-action has to ask those terrible questions: "How do I and my work fit into the ongoing world? Why should I continue to ply my art, trade, profession, parenthood? Where am I, my family, and my work heading finally?" Such questioning usually leads to the more religious questions: "Is there anything more than this total world? Is there someone or something permeating this world and leading it to a higher destiny, a fuller life? Can I contact this mysterious one or am I already doing so?" When such questions finally lead into the experience of a meaningful world and of a transcendent God, then religious contemplation-in-action has evolved out of the secular and now redounds to the enrichment of the latter. To see how this is possible, note what happens when a family friend at-tempts to heal a family quarrel. He listens intently as the various family members describe the events leading up to the quarrel. The friend tries to piece together (to do a secular contemplation of) this setting and the quarrel. Once he feels that he knows the whole scene, he endeavors to help each family member see this whole so that each can experience some healing-into-wholeness as each admits his or her own faults, the good points of other fami-ly members, the need to forgive each other, and the necessity of planning together for a better family future. This secular contemplation starts to become contemplation-in-action when each family member begins to act out of this vision. Such secular contemplation-in-action begins to move into its religious counterpart when each family member finds a reason to act beyond himself or herself for unified family action, e.g., the preservation of the fami-ly tradition or the hope for future family members. Later, this religious contemplation-in-action attains fullness when individually the family members think of themselves and act as Christians carrying Christ's presence within the family, and when socially this same family as a group does healing actions which image the future Great Community of the Great Tomorrow beyond the grave. But factually, this neat cooperation between secular and religious contemplation-in-action often breaks down. There is a tendency in each human to abort secular contemplation-in-action before it can rise into the religious. St. Augustine describes vividly how this happens when a person at- Contemplation-in-Action / 325 tempts .to control the world, his fellow human beings and himself apart from or in conflict with God's law and providence. In this case the secular con-templative so concentrates on another person or a business project or a grand scheme as to lose sight of the more comprehensive wholes of community-justice and of God's people. Here secular contemplation becomes divorced from religious. The result is that the secular contemplative becomes hypnotiz-ed by the object of contemplation (nothing else is of equal value), then abject-ly slavish to the latter (the object becomes the only hope), then frantically con-servative of this object (e.g., a beloved, a job, an ambition or fond hope, a favorite pastime like gambling or fishing, a power over others). Because all the person's efforts are so fiercely focused on saving his project, he tends to dissipate mind, heart, and imagination. Thus, in an ironic way, the con-templating person literally fragments himself in efforts to mold his private world into a lasting wholesomeness which fits his own self-image and peculiar needs, but which fails to fit the true wholeness of the world and the Transcen-dent One. As a result, even a person's secular contemplation-in-action tends to disintegrate when its religious completion is aborted. To put this positively, religious contemplation-in-action is a contempla-tion whose resultant activities aim to render man more wholesome within the wholing of the world as the latter develops within the dynamic whole of the Transcendent God. The vision of Teilhard de Chardin which sees the universe converging towards the transcendent Omega Point is one illustration of religious contemplation-in-action. The exuberance of such religious contemplation-in-action once achieved can then redound upon its secular counterpart to render the latter passionate for truth and eager for beautiful action within its peculiar sphere of influence. F~'om all this it should be clear that secular and religious contemplation-in- action are distinct and mutually modifying phases in the contemplative person's wholesome life.3 To confuse one with the other is, then, to neglect one for the other and even to risk diminishing both since they are so naturally interdependent. But even within.religious contemplation-in-action, there is a further clarification to be made. Its monastic variety is different from the apostolic, even though, again, both types are needed to stimulate and to enrich the life of God's people. Here, too, confusion of one with the other debilitates life. Within Religious Contemplation-in-Action, the Monastic and the Apostolic Differ Discouragement is just as apt to arise from confusing the apostolic and the 3Karl Rahner shows the intimate connection between secular and religious contemplation when he demonstrates that supernaturally elevated transcendentality (i.e., God's self-communication in grace) is mediated by any and every categorical reality, (i.e., by the world). For the Christian, there is no separate sacral realm where alone God is to be found (Foundations of Christian Faith, translated by William V. Dych, Seabury Press, New. York, 1978, pp. 151-152). 326 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 monastic within religious c0ntemplation-in-action as it is from equating secular and religious contemplation-in-action. For, to seek continually the qualities of one in the other is to be permanently misled and disappointed. Although all forms of secular contemplation seek for wholesomeness in con-templator and in object contemplated, nevertheless as many types of secular contemplation occur as there are types of contemplators, e.g., artist, lawyer, neurosurgeon, philosopher, business person, parent, novelist and so on. It should be no great surprise, then, that the monastic religious contemplation-in- action of the Poor Clare or the Carthusian will be different from its apostolic counterpart in the life of lay person or diocesan priest or apostolic religious. In monastic contemplation the monk or nun searches deeply, within the roots of his or her innermost being, for personal wholeness and for the mysterious wholesomeness of God's life within this being. Now such a demand-ing search becomes possible only if the person withdraws from the more active concerns of life in the everyday world of the apostle. In his Contemplative Prayer, Thomas Merton makes it clear that the monk must devote himself in a special way to renunciation, repentance, and prayer if he is to sound the depths of his being for God.' In monastic religious contemplation-in-action, the quiet sinking into self to find God requires a strict control of attention as one undergoes the rigors of hard manual labor, very close community living, sometimes deafening silence, and occasionally piercing loneliness. Thus the relief from cultural pressures which enables monastic religious contemplation-in-action to occur is hardly an escape from suffering the harsh demands of love and of the daily labor for survival. But it is a religious contemplation-in-action diverse from that of the apostle in the world of art, business, medicine, education, and family. Unfortunately, much less is writteri about apostolic religious contemplation-in-action than about the monastic varietywespecially from the view of the layperson.~ Because the apostolic contemplative is ordinarily working in a professional position or a ,trade or a skill-job (secretary, housewife, telephone linesman, and so on) and is frequently involved in team-work, he or she must give much attention to the daily concerns of the world--the very concerns from which the monastic contemplative explicitly withdraws. Ttfis apostolic religious contemplation-in-action is more depend-ent on secular contemplation-in-action for its dynamism because apostolic contemplatives are intently pursuing professional jobs, trades, and skills through eight to ten hours per day. As a result, the apostolic contemplative is more concerned with outer wholeness of self and world, whereas the monastic 'Thomas Merton, Contemplative Prayer (Doubleday-Image, Garden City, N.Y., 1971 pp. 19-20). ~Thomas Vernor Moore's Life of Man with God, (Harcourt Brace~ New York, 1956), though quaint, contains case histories of ordinary people enjoying strong contemplation in action. Contemplation-in-Action / 397 contemplative concentrates more on the inner wholeness. Evidently both types of concern are needed by the civic and ecclesial communities since they complement each other. The outer beauty of technological, scientific, and cultural wholeness must be appreciated and promoted if the inner beauty of man's ultimate meaning and destiny is to exist and to be known in depth. On the other hand, the inner beauty of such wholeness makes possible all the outer beauty since the loss of ultimate meaning and destiny in human activities renders technology, science and culture vacuous: if not vicious. Nor is the withdrawal of the mohastic contemplative to be considered unique to this type of contemplation. The apostolic contemplative must prac-tice a somewhat similar asceticism if he or she is to be a first-rank artist, lawyer, neurosurgeon, teacher, sports star, philosopher, business person, or parent. In order to focus intensely upon the contemplated object, such contemplators must withdraw steadily from distractions, occasionally from family life, often from comforts, not rarely from the spotlight of flattering attention. Though the person dedicated to apostolic religious contemplation-in-action may be immersed in the concerns of the world, still he or she must learn to live hidden within the teamwork of the institution and to withdraw from disruptive self-seeking of fame, fortune, and fun. Such withdrawal is essential if the contemplator is to discover better the wholeness of object, self, world, and God. For the aim of every contemplative is to become more whole in order better to see, in all their wholesomeness, other people, the tasks at hand, professional teamwork, family health, national purpose, ecclesial community and God himself. For this reason, the withdrawal should make one more attentive and appreciative of other people, of one's business, of art and music, of wholesome sanctity (a redundant phrase), of professional skill, of science and technology, and of oneself. Such wholesomeness, when appreciated, gives deep intellectual joy and is the fullest reward for disciplined suffering. Consequently, the various types of contemplation-in-action must be carefully distinguished so that each can be pursued with finesse. But since contemplation-in-action has so many ways of expressing itself according to each one's peculiar gifts, situations, aims, and tradition, it is no easy task to discover one's own way of contemplating-in-action. Since each type of con-templation aims at wholeness of object contemplated and of person con-templating, a major error here could fragment the contemplator's personality and induce shoddy activity within his or her specialized secular contemplation-in-action. With this caution in mind, one delves hesitantly within his experience for the feel of apostolic contemplation-in-action, especially since this experience runs so deeply and so uniquely. Towards the Feel of Apostolic Contemplation-in-Action Because apostolic contemplation-in-action is present deep within many actions of the secular contemplative, it can be approached only gradually 328 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 through four steps. The first step consists in answering a series of questions constructed to bring into better focus the secret unity of one's everyday ex-perience. Later, in a second step, reflection on the various levels of this every-day experience helps us to recognize at what level apostolic contemplation-in-action originates. The third step is to work out an explicit definition of such contemplation according to these levels. Here, in a fourth step, one can finally note the feel of contemplation-in-action as it happens within various levels and modes of experience. But let us now take the first of these four steps by leisurely answering for ourselves the following questions: I. Why do I usually get up on time in the morning and not let people wait? 2. Why do I bother to cook breakfast for others and not just for myself? 3. Why do I share my car with others and, on occasional rainy mornings, leave early to get them to work on time? 4. Why, at the job, do I help out on someone else's project when mine is not finished yet? 5. Why should I avoid the second beer at lunch because it makes me loggy at work? Who really cares about my efficiency? 6. Why scrimp and save for others--esp~ecially if they are likely to squander the savings? 7. Why take work and worries home from the~ job? Why bother studying at night to complete degree work or to be more competent in my next day's work? 8. Why keep up correspondence with friends or answer the third telephone call when I'm so tired at night? 9. Why be the one who usually corrects the children and who gets their resentment? 10. Why sometimes spend money meant for entertainment on the needs of others? 11. Why squeeze into the already packed day the Eucharist and another fifteen or more minutes of prayer? In other words, all these why's add up to a single last question: Why do we stretch ourselves out for others hour after hour, day after day, month after month, year after year? Could the answer be that, amid all our sneaky ways, our clever vanities, our downright sins, and our cute manipulation of others to our own desires, we nevertheless do have a strong practical concern for peo-ple, for their welfare and happiness? Could it even be that, deep within, we each feel God quietly encouraging us to stretch our lives out to others? Could it be that, deep within, we want to delight the heart of God? If so, then this is what is called "the stretch," the almost constant doing.of the more difficult out of respect for others and for God. It is, in other words, the willingness to bleed slowly for loved ones and even, at times, for mere acquaintances. This "stretch," then, turns out to be a dynamic unity running through all the day's events to give them meaning and direction. Could it be that this is our seeking Contemplation-in-Action / 329 for God, our God-hunger? Is this our restlessness with anything less than God--a restlessness which renders us mystified at the self-serving actions of the trifler, the super-ambitious, and the bun vivant? Indeed, is this "stretch" or God-hunger the apostolic contemplation-in-action for which we are searching? It would seem not. For such contemplation lies underneath "the stretch" to make it happen. We must yet distinguish various levels of experience and then move underneath each to find the deepest level from where apostolic contemplation-in-action originates. And we find that there are four levels of experience to distinguish. The first or sur-face level is where minor irritations, like the sound of loud rock-and-roll music or the itch of eczema or the sudden hiccup occurs and where minor joys like a satisfying meal or a long sleep or a relaxed laugh, happen. Underneath this surface level, lies the second or physical level where the pains of ulcers or neuralgia lurk and the joys of exuberant good health or of strong sexual pleasure energize one. Underneath these two levels is the third or psychological level where one trembles with fear of failure in one's work or shrinks at seeing the beloved suffer, and where one also is Warmed with the security of being .loved deeply and faithfully by an admired person, or experiences the deep satisfaction of witnessing one's children growing up well. Underneath these three explicitly conscious levels which we all can recognize lies a more hidden fourth level known only implicitly, i.e., by con-trast with the top three levels. Thus a person can feel great joy and serenity at this fourth level, while at the upper three levels he feels terrible suffering and apparent fragmentation. Or the reverse may be the case. "Everything is going my way in health, job-~atisfaction, family life; I've got everything--except that I feel uneasy and deeply restless underneath all of this." In both in-stances, the person feels almost schizophrenic--so clear is the distinction be-tween the top three levels and the deepest fourth level of experience, so direct-ly reverse is the flow of events between the top-three and the fourth levels. Puzzling as this experience is, it is also a revelation of the fourth level where the root of contemplation-in-action lies and it will eventually lead us to the "feel" of apostolic contemplation-in action.6 Apostolic Contemplation-in-Action Is a Heart-Awareness of God and His People To state matters bluntly, apostolic contemplation-in-action is not "the stretch," the disciplined reaching out to others and to God from the third level of experience. It is not the constant calling to mind of God's presence, nor 61 have given a fuller description of these four levels of experience in "The Fourth Level of Prayer: Mystery," (REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, VOI. 39, 1980/6. pp. 808-810, 817-819). Confer also "Phenomenology, Psychiatry, and Ignatian Discernment" (The Way, Supplement #6, May, 1968, pp. 27-34) by Felix Letemendia and George Croft for a similar description of four levels of experience. 330 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 constant explicit aspirations, not the "Jesus prayer," nor one's favorite scrip-tural mantra on the second level of experience. It is not constant conversation with God on the second and first levels.7 Apostolic contemplation-in-action may cause these behaviors, but it is not any one or all of them. Rather, it is more like a heart-awareness of God, an affectionate and deep alertness to God in all events, a strong and warm conviction of God's loving presence at the fourth level underlying and yet permeating all life's experiences and hap-penings. 8 This heart-awareness seems to be always operative, like the buoyancy of a cork under water, always unobtrusive, like quiet background music in office or dining room, always implicit, like a mother's awareness of noisy children in the backyard while she is concentrating on a new cake recipe; always pulsing, like the tennis player's awareness of the beloved watching his match from the grandstands; always underlying, like the companionship between two friends whose attention is riveted on an engrossing motion picture; always growing osmotically, like the friendship between two people sitting in the front seat of a car and silently viewing the. countryside during a long trip. This heart-awareness appears not in the least to interfere with conversation or with algebra-solving or with. business-planning or with party-laughing or with landscape-painting or with surgical operating. Indeed, it can be said that this heart-awareness is actually a person's awareness of God's awareness of him while he works through the events of the day--much as when the lover tennis-star is implicitly aware of his beloved's awareness of him as she sits in the grandstand watching his play.9 This heart-awareness is like the alertness of the saints to God's providence in small happenings. God, like the air, is embracing the saints, enabling them to breathe, acting as the medium for all the surrounding events. In such an at-mosphere, nothing is insignificant. There is a second way in which this heart-awareness of God, called apostolic contemplation-in-action, can be described. It seems to be also a per- 'In reading Henri J. M. Nouwen's books and articles on spirituality, I have rarely felt anything but strong agreement--except for one article: "Unceasing Prayer" (America, Vol. 139/3, July 29--August 5, 1978, pp. 46-51), where Nouwen declares: "We convert our unceasing thinking in-to unceasing prayer when we move from a self-centered monologue to a God-centered di;~logue (p. 48)." Though he characterizes this prayer as contemplation, as attentive looking at God, and as presence to God, still the heavy emphasis on thinking and imagining in the article could lead the reader to a false mentalistic perception of praying always. 8In Love Alone (Herder and Herder, New York, 1969, p. 89), Hans Urs Von Balthasar compares the unceasing prayer of heart-awareness to the "the way a man is always and everywhere influenc-ed by the image of the woman he loves." 9 John S. Dunne (The Reasons of the Heart, Macmillan, New York, 1978, pp. 46-54) gives an acute description of this heart-awareness of God wherein one feels known and loved deeply by God. He puts it in Meister Eckhart's terms: this is a laughing between God and man which images the Trinitarian life of mutual joy between and in the three persons. Contemplation-in-Action / 331 son's awareness of God present within him and working out through him into the lives of others. It would explain somewhat Paul the Apostle's remark: "I live now, not I, but Christ lives in me." In this implicit heart-awareness there is even a sense of acting beyond one's capacities, or of being borne along to meet events for which one feels strangely prepared beforehand. This does not imply that such experience is without suffering. On the contrary, the heart-awareness has the tendency to make one more sensitive to the suffering of others and of one's self and even more ready to assume sorrow. For, remarkably, this heart-awareness opens one up not only to God but also simultaneously to God's people and his world. It would seem to contain a readiness for friendship, and for the obligations consequent upon friendship. It is not a state achieved by spiritual gymnastics, by much reading on the meaning of life, by the use of diaries, by experimental prayer-sessions, by con-stant aspirations, and God-conversation, or by psychological dynamics. Rather, it seems to arise within the disciplined service of others out of love. In other words, "the stretch" seems to set up the conditions in which this heart-awareness, this apostolic contemplation-in-action, occurs. The latter would seem, then, to he a natural development in a healthy life of service to God and his people. It appears to be an availability to others which is adaptive~to their needs, hopes, joys and sorrows and which consequently takes on emotional coloring and religious content by way of this adaptation. For this reason, it would seem that apostolic contemplation-in-action is not an esoteric gift but one which is given to many good people by a God eager to promote such heart-awareness of himself and of his people. After all, such awareness would seem to include a penchant for fulfilling the two Great Com-mandments under a vast array of different circumstances and, therefore, under many diverse modes of action. It is time, then, that we considered some of these modes. In this way we can experientially both test the understanding and get the feel of apostolic contemplation-in-action. Various Modes in Which Apostolic Contemplation-in-Action Is Felt Apostolic religious contemplation-in-action as heart-awareness of God is, then, a deep good will towards God, a warm desire for God, a loving remembering of him in his people and his universe. This single basic convic-tion naturally expresses itself in a thousand different ways according to the thousand diverse activities of the apostolic contemplative. Among these thou-sand ways are the following eleven (if you can recognize them in your ex-perience, then you have, I would ~hink, the "feel" of apostolic contempla-tion- in-action): 1. Hope: a pervading sense of the worthwhileness of one's present life and work for the future; a certain fearlessness in facing radical changes within one's community amid the sudden turnings of history. "Why is everyone so depressed?" 2. Patience: St. Paul's hypornone, the strength to stand underneath and to 339 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 hold everything together when all seems to be coming apart and others are deserting the supposedly sinking enterprise; a kind of dilapidated, yet dedicated, serenity amid much suffering and uncertainty. An ~'old-shoe" type says: "What's the big ~panic about?" 3. Need to be Hidden in teamwork: a wanting to contribute one's best quiet-ly; and yet, in times of stress, a boldness to take on the tough job of leadership. "Tell me what you want done--and if you can't tell me, I'll tell you." 4. Passive Alertness to Others: a willingness to wait, to listen, to hear out a person or a situation; a deep respect for the individuality of others; a refusal to domineer in conversation-work-dispute; no demand for a return on love given--because of trust in the other and in God. "I've got time to listen. Relax." 5. A Senseof Being Companioned through the day (at the fourth level): never being alone because at the centei" of one's heart and of the whole world'is the beloved: a turning to God, and frequently finding him there waiting. "Why worry about anything so long as the Lord is with me?" 6. Sense of an Intimate Providence in one's life, of being cared for with remarkable delicacy: events that at first put everything in jeopardy and turmoil eventually turn out to be fortunate; chancehappenings are later seen to fit together with precision; surprises'are taken as God's special attention to a person rather than as senseless interruptions to his or her life. "Someone loves me and is guiding me to himself over this rough road and dangerous terrain." 7. Sense of Belonging to God, to the Church (his people), to the mother of God, to one's community (parish, family, neighborhood, religious order, charismatic prayer-group): a sense of finally being at home--no matter where I travel; a deep content with God, world, oneself in the midst of contradiction. "Yes, my God owns the world--now what's the problem?" (". the world, life and death, the present and the future, are all your ser-vants; but you belong to Christ and Christ belongs to God" I Co 3:22-23.) 8. Firm Conviction of Doing Exactly What God Wants at the Moment and of not wanting to do anything else or to be anywhere else: a sense of rightness (without righteousness) about one's present action; a determined sense of vocation which is nevertheless ready for change; riding hard, yet sitting easy, in the saddle. "For the moment this is where it all is." 9. Constant Hunger to Serve Others: to give them joy, to help them expand their personalities in happiness-knowledge-commitment--even though the servant (e.g., teacher, counselor) will be soon forgotten and very likely will have little'to show for his or her services. "How can I be of help without getting in your way?" 10. A Steady Sense of Gratefulness to God: for the fullness of one's life--for each person, event, knock-at-the-door; a wonder at how much God has entrusted to oneself; gratitude, the mark of maturity and full humaneness. Contemplation-in-Action "How could you be so good to me, Lord?" 11. Finding God in Others: seeing by faith that this person is beloved by God; not projecting some Christ-image on the person so that the latter is not seen for himself and is therefore depreciated, but rather discovering this new value in the person, and therefore serving him more carefully, listening to him more attentively, finding his core-goodness. "He is my brother and Christ's brother.'" 0 These eleven modes (they could be a thousand) have an inner unity amid their diversity." First of all, each is concerned with the wholeness of both the contemplative and the object contemplated. For example, hope sums up the whole past and present to send the totality into the future without a constrict-ing fear; patience serenely holds the present fragmenting situation together; hidden teamwork binds the group together and offers leadership when fragmentation or misdirection threatens; passive alertness to others offers time and support for the healing process; the sense of being companioned at the center of one's being leads into a sense of providence intimately and delicately converging all events towards a full future goodness; the sense of belonging to God-community-worm produces a wholesome contentedness which paradox-ically can issue into fierce efforts to build a better community and world with the firm conviction of doing exactly What God wants at the moment; the con-stant selfless hunger to serve others naturally builds wholesome community; and the steady sence of gratefulness to God means gratefulness to other which, in turn, produces the close unity of friendship.'2 Clearly, then, this heart awareness of God, this apostolic religious contemplation-in-action, fulfills well the definition of contemplation as the perceiving and the building of wholesomeness in the comtemplative and in the object contemplated. There is a second inner unity among these eleven modes of contemplation-in- action. Evidently, each mode is itself an attitude (an habitually lived value) which inspires and molds the.activity flowing out of it. In other words, the mode of contemplation controls the actibn of apostolic religious contemplation-in-action. But each of the eleven attitudes embodies, in its own way, a single attitude common to them all: a total accepting of all reality (God, t°Yves Raguin, S.J. (Paths to Contemplation, translated by Paul Barrett, O.F.M. Cap., Abbey Press, St. Meinrad, Ind., 1974, p. 82), stresses that "the love of God teaches us to love others for themselves., just as they are, with all their defects and with all their hopes." Here he finds common ground between Eastern and Western schools of contemplation, but also great differences (pp. 4-11). "In How to Pray Always without Always Praying (Fides/Claretian, Notre Dame, Ind., 1978) Silvio Fittipaldi, O.S;A., speaks of prayerfulness as a basic life-orientation under!ying all one's activities (p. vii). He then deftly shows how deep questioning of everyday events (pp. 11-27) and a constant wondering-longing about life (pp. 29-40) can be a praying always. These are two more modes to add to the eleven already noted. '21n his Letter to the Colossians, St. Paul, when listing the signs of Christian growth (1:9-12), ap-pears to mention five or six of these modes of contemplation in action. 334 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 world, self, people) and a sense of being, in turn, accepted by all reality.' ~ This attitude is a deep welcoming of all the people and events of life--an attitude symbolized when one's arms are extended wide in service and one's face bears a confident smile of trust." Now among the eleven modes, one may rise in prominence to succeed a second which then recedes to be called upon at a later time for a different situation. Though a person~may temporarily feel, for example, less hope or less sense of intimate providence, nevertheless these attitudes remain even though submerged under the new succeeding mode of, e.g., passive alertness to others. Meanwhile, the single deepest attitude of simple acceptance or welcome is being expressed in one of the eleven (or one thousand) modes. The modes, of course, vary according to the needs of the situation, the type of work being done, or the growth-phase of the contemplative-in-action. But always the single basic attitude of welcoming acceptance knits them together with expectant trust in God and his world. Could it be that this unify-ing attitude is what enables the apostolic contemplative "to pray always"? Could it be, then, that this basic acceptance of God and of his world is the ac-tive embodiment of a man's fundamental option?" The negative side of this acceptance is dramatized in the death-bed rejection of family, God, and world, when the dying person implies: "God, you'v.e cheated me consistently with this harassing world of yours and with this demanding family of mine. Now stay out of my life forever." Such basic cynicism, bubbling corrosively in each of us, can eat away the roots of apostolic religious contemplation-in-action. To face our cynicism may be to see more clearly the radical source of such ~c.ontemplation. Human Cynicism Versus the Divine Indwelling Over our contemporary culture a vast cloud of cynicism rolls, paralyzing the self-sacrificing attitude which empowers apostolic religious contempla- "Hans Urs Von Balthasar, in his article "On Unceasing Prayer" (Theology Digest Vol. 25/1, pp. 35-37), takes this basic attitude to be a readiness to hear God's word at all times in all things, events and persons. "To pray always, therefore, means to make real what is--in turning to God and to the world." For Von Balthasar, such constant prayer is kept alive by articulated or formal prayer in which it is remembered. "The books of George Maloney, S.J., sketch this weldoming attitude in various ways. Inward Stillness (Dimension Books, Denville, N.J., 1976), sees it as a loving surrender in all things to God's loving guidance (pp. 91-92) and as a heart-prayer of constant thankfulness (p. 99). Nesting in the Rock (Dimension Books, 1978, pp. 86 ff.), develops this theme. The Breath of the Mystic (Dimension Books, 1974, pp. 181-183), speaks of contemplation-in-action as a "contuition," a simultaneous awareness of the creature and of the dynamic presence of God within the creature as its ground of being; it is, then, a lov, ing affinity for all with all b~ings. ~qn his How to Pray Today (Abbey Press, St. Meinrad, Ind., 1975, translated by John Beevers, pp. 40-41), Yves Raguin, S.J., finds that the basic disposition for prayer is acceptance of the human condition. Such acceptance first acknowledges that every good act is under the influence of the Holy Spirit and then enjoys this fact amid all the ups and downs of secular activity. Contemplation-in-Action / 335 tion-in-action. In the face of mammoth social problems, contemporary man is oftencounseled: "Always watch out first for Number One, otherwise you'll be suffocated by other people's needs." The human mind and heart then con-cludes: "Apostolic contemplation-in-action is impossible." And the Lord replies within the heart of each person precisely as he responded to Peter's similar complaint in the episode involving the rich young man: "Yes; it is im-possible- without God." This complaint often takes the form of an objection: "How can I who am so aware of my own fragmentation and partialness be expected to help others to wholesomeness? Who am I to attempt apostolic contemplation-in-action?" The very formulation of this objection is a humiliating experience, yet the humiliation happens to be the first step in doing such contemplation-in- action. Tho married couple raising three young children has known from the days of the first birth that the one spouse's partiainess will, paradoxically and often humiliatingly, be the source of the other's wholesomeness. Hus-band and wife need each other's partialness to become whole, just as they need their own growing wholesomeness to lure their children to wholesome living and just as they need their children's needs tO call them to greater wholesomeness of action. Christ, knowing thoroughly the agony of bringing fragmentation to wholeness, is there to help with Cana's sacrament of matrimony. Thus, apostolic contemplation-in-action, through this sacra-ment, can be intimate to the daily routines of married life; while at the same time the seeming impossibility of marital contemplation-in-action reveals to the cynical that the heart-awareness of God and his people is pure gift. Not rarely the most cyn. ical person of all concerning apostolic contemplation-in-action is the priest ministering the sacrament of reconcilia-tion, that efficacious sign of ultimate wholeness. In the confessional, his fragmented, partial self laments: "I should be confessing to this good pe{son, not he to me. His wholesomeness comes through the more deeply he sorrows over his failures to be of help to his wife and children, his friends and co-workers." Yet as the Lord permeates the priest's absolution to heal the peni-tent, he simultaneously heals the priest precisely through the iatter's humilia-tion at his own fragmentation. The gift of reconciliation for the penitent can often contain the gift of apostolic contemplation-in-action for the priest. Somehow, in allowing God to work through him, the priest has acted beyond his own capacities as a human being and has simultaneously increased the wholeness of the penitent and of himself. But this example is not meant to imply that apostolic religious contemplation-in-action is easily acquired and done. For this basic attitude of welcoming acceptance of God and world, this heart-awareness of God and his people, animates and directs "the stretch," that continuous, disciplined action of serving, healing and challenging others beyond one's own capacities. For the gift of heart-awareness of God and his people demands that the apostolic contemplative constantly and painfully grow in generous action for 336 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 others. To operate beyond one's capacities in this way means to take risks con-tinually and to undergo humiliations inevitably. There must, then, be some unique source of illumination and strength within the being of the apostolic contemplative-in-action. Otherwise, he or she would fragment under the pressures and demands of such a life. It would appear that the divine indwelling of the Trinity is this ultimate source for apostolic religious contemplation-in-action. In Christ's prayer for his disciples (Jn 17:18-23), a prayer of "wholing" action, he speaks of "send-ing" the disciples, and all his believers, just as the Father had sent him so that "All may be one as you, Father, are in me and I in you; I pray that they may be [one] in us, that the world ma.), believe that you sent me." Apostolic contem-plation- in-action becomes, then, the manifesting of the Son, Jesus Christ, to the world in the apostolic actions of the contemplative. But the very action promoted by Jesus within the contemplative has also contained Jesus' mani-festation of the Father to this contemplative. As a result the contemplative's action in the world reveals both the Father and the Son. In this way, the apostolic contemplative becomes Their living glory expressed for all to see in the contemplative's maturing manhood or womanhood. Such action enables Father and Son to be present incarnately to the world. At the same time, the Spirit, indwelling in the people of God and in the contemplative, inflames the contemplative's actions so that they become more truly and fully acts of love (caritas) which simultaneously cause wholeness in others and in the con-templative. Here apostolic religious contemplation-in-action is seen to go far beyond the human capacities of the contemplative as it heals the world into wholesomeness through "the stretch." At this point, the problem of apostolic contemplation-in-action becomes more evident. Misunderstanding of it makes one feel falsely guilty for not hav-ing mystical graces of extraordinary mental vision and will-strength, for not being able physically to see Christ in the other, for not keeping the morning's solitary prayer in unbroken continuity through the day, for not enjoying fre-quent upsurges of strong consolation during work. But rather, it would seem that apostolic contemplation-in-action is the gradual and painful explicita- ~tion of the divine indwelling operative in all the contemplative's actions. It is the slow bringing-to-consciousness of the Trinity's workings within the con-templative's actions, within "the stretch." Now this gradual awareness is, concretely and basically, the apostolic con-templative's developing attitude of welcoming acceptance towards God, his people, and his world. By operating unobtrusively behind and within all the contemplative's actions in the world, this attitude leaves the contemplative's senses, mind, emotions, decision-power, and imagination free to concentrate on the particular work and the persons at hand. As a result, the contemplative is not less, but more, present to the work and the people; not less, but more, alert to their needs; not less, but more, hopeful of their expanding wholesomeness. Such total dedication, made possible by apostolic religious Contemplation-in-Action / 337 contemplation-in-action, becomes that magnificent self-forgetfulness which Karl Rahner sees as "praying always" and as beautiful surrender to God." Consequently, this deep heart-awareness of God and his people which constitutes apostolic contemplation-in-action can be a gradual expansion of the indwelling Trinity's effective presence within the contemplative's "stretch." This presence rises slowlythrough the contemplatives's whole be-ing so that his arms can go out in self-forgetting welcome to God and his world. Thus, the contemplative's subsequent actions carry ever more passion, strength, intelligence, compassion and wholesome beauty. Such con-templative action can then manifest strong love without crushing the beloved and competent service without condescension to the beneficiary. For it will in-clude the fuller action of the indwelling Trinity seeking to make all humans one as the Father, Son and Spirit are one in their own eternal wholeness of the divine family. ~6Karl Rahner, The Religious Life Today (Seabury, New York, 1976), p. 49. The" Active-Contemplative" Problem in Religious Life by David M. Knight Price: $.75 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 The White Robed Citadins of Paris M. Grace Swift, O.S.U. Sister Grace teaches at Loyola University of the South. Her mailing address is: Box 192; Loyola University; New Orleans, LA 70118. Ancient bells begin their clamorous count-down of eleven hours. A hooded nun, enshrouded in yards of creamy white wool, rises from her place on the matted rug-covered nave floor of St. Gervais et Protais Church, Paris. She mounts the steps, bows deeply before the icon enshrined on the massive altar, and with her Easter taper, lights the seven-branched menorah standing in back of the Eucharistic table. The Sunday liturgy begins as the celebrant and choir proclaim the central theme: "All you who have been baptized in Christ have put on Christ, Alleluia." During the next hour and a half people from all corners of Paris, indeed from all corners of the world, will find themselves involved in a liturgy that is uniquely prayerful, reverent, dramatic, and stunningly beautiful. For this is why this community came to be--to provide for harried urbanites a setting where they could find an oasis of prayer, where a celebration of the sacred mysteries could unfold with the leisurely, spellbinding grandeur of a true monastic milieu. The people of Paris have voted with their feet for the effort. Before the liturgy begins, the monks (roughly about a dozen) enter individually and kneel on the left side of the wide nave, their prayer area en-cased on two sides by choir stalls. An equal number of nuns, wearing the same deep-sleeved white habit enter, with only one apparent difference in their clothing: the nuns wear the capuche on their heads, while the monks allow it to hang down the back. In back of the kneeling monastic communities, the nave is filled with worshippers whokneel, like them (and very close to them), on the reed rug. Others sit on benches or chairs at the sides and in front of the altar area. In France, one may look in vain in many churches for young people at- 338 Citadins of Paris / 339 tending mass, but here, they are conspicuously evident. One willowy lad sits cross legged on the floor, proclaiming by his rigidly straight back and tucked in chin that he has dabbled in Zen. At times, many of the youths uninhihitedly imitate the profound, fetal-positioned bows of the worshipping monks and nuns. Some wear the special metal cross that identifies them as youths who have spent a week at Taiz6. A turbaned black girl peals forth the French lyrics with the sobbing overtones her tribal ancestors once used to summon dark Senegalese spirits. No guitars, no cheap gimmicks draw them there, for this liturgy is designed to meet the tastes of some of the most cultured urbanites of the world. Along with the youths, a solid strata of bourgeois Parisians also compose the congregation. Everywhere one spots nuns of various congrega-tions, as well as many men who by their nondescript blue and gray suits reveal to a trained eye that they are French priests. They, too, need the nourishment of St. Gervais. As mass progresses, a drunk ambles down the side aisle and dazedly turns 360°. With a blank stare at the congregation and a gesture of appeal with his hands he mutters, "Mes fr~res." He provides no lasting distraction, for all attention is riveted on the liturgical drama. Its magnetism lies not only in its splendid integration of prayer and majestic Byzantine-style music, but also in the witness of the monks and nuns themselves. The communities in charge of this liturgy are now called Les Fraternit~s Monastiques de Jerusalem. The monks started life under the leadership of Pierre Marie Delfieux on November 1, 1975, with the invitation and blessing of FranCois Cardinal Marty of Paris. On December 8, 1976 a company of women formed in a neighboring area near the Church of Notre Dame des Blancs Manteaux. The Rule specifically states that there never was or would be any intention of having a mixed community; each group has its own separate establishment and administration, though they do celebrate the liturgy together and share the same spirit and aims--to be monks and nuns in the city, or citadins.~ They have no pastoral, sacramental, teaching, or organized charitable commitment. Signs notify the public that for weddings and sick calls, they can contact the neighboring churches. The members of these groups aim chiefly: 1) to be present in the city and 2) to celebrate the liturgy and divine office in company with the townspeople. The liturgy being a prime concern of their existence, they take time to plan and execute it with all the artistry their con-siderable, combined talents can effect. In choosing a style of.music for their services, the leaders concluded that much of the contemporary church music was shallow, both musically and theologically. Wanting a dominant style that would manifest a global unity, 'Two articles in French give some information al~out these communities: Jean Leclerq, O.S.B., "Tendances Monastiques Actuelles," Nouvelle Revue Theologique, 10e Ann6e, No. i (January- February, 1978), pp. 90-102 and "Naissance d'une Fraternit~ Monastique ~t Paris," Carmel (April, 1976), pp. 56-66. 340 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 they chose Byzantine modes to accompany their Roman liturgy. With lyrics based upon psalmic and patristic sources, translated effectively into French, the simple, strong, rolling harmonies are easily mastered. The result is almost total participation by the congregation. St. Gervais boasts one of the oldest and finest organs in Paris. It is used selectively and effectively at the end of the liturgy and during special times of meditative prayer. The sisters, with beautiful, clear voices, take an active role in leading the singing, in reading, and in gathering together the offertory procession, which always includes lay people and children. An abundant use of incense in the liturgy adds even more of an aura of Byzantine mystery to the ceremony. The Fraternit6 includes several priests. For the Sunday liturgy, the con-celebrants sing, in three harmonic parts, the canon of the mass. Some other parts of the mass, sung alone by the chief celebrant, are accompanied by a background of soft, harmonic melody, hummed by the monks and nuns. At communion time, the frdres and soeurs draw together to form a half-circle about the altar, completed sometimes by lay. members of the congregation. The priests chant in harmony: "Receive the body of Christ," to which the congregation responds in the same harmonic parts: "We receive the body of Christ." A huge host, the size of an American dinner plate, is broken and dist~'ibuted to the encircled brothers and sisters. The same sung ritual accom-panies the chalice. The result is a moving evocation of a truly shared banquet. The total impression given by all the reverent and graceful movements of the mass is that this is the most important event in the lives of the celebrating com-munity- which is just as it should be. The Monastic Fraternit6s The vocation of citadin was revealed to the founder of the F.raternit6s after profound searching in prayer. The rules for community life have been developed in stages, after actual experience in communal living. The guidelines (for communal use only) are now contained in two mimeographed volumes: l) Au Coeur des Villes, au Coeur de Dieu (At the Heart of the Cities, At the Heart of God) and 2) Le Livre de Vie(The Book of Life). Abundant scriptural references in the latter remind the reader that Mary lived, Jesus taught, the apostles evangelized, and prophets and priests of old sacrificed, in the city. Christ fought the devil and conquered him in a city; the fire of the Holy Spirit descended in a city. The beloved of the Canticle sought her Lover while running about the city, and one day He will make the city his beautiful spouse. Indeed, Heaven itself is a City. "It is there that we must remain," the Rule affirms, since God himself dwells there, and thousands of his brothers work, love, weep, sweat, sing, search, struggle and pray there. The Church of St. Gervais is surrounded by all the civic bustle entailed in commerce and governmental administration. It is near the Quais du Seine where lovers stroll l and tourists buy postcards. Its metro stop is H6tel de Ville, the seat of many offices of Parisian city government. Walking in another direction, a visitor Citadins of Paris / 341 soon meets Rue Rivoli, a thriving center of cheap stores and sidewalk vendors selling anything from ice cream to wool stockings. The picturesque Tie Saint Louis, an ancient area called the Marais, and le Forum des Halles are also located in its orbit. The Rule does not lightly gloss over the difficulties of trying to live a monastic life amidst the allurements of one of the world's most beguiling cities. But, the Livre de Vie asks, "Being torn in two directions, is this not the cross?" To be able to live in the city without succumbing to its worldliness, rules of life are spelled out in the Le Livre de Vie which provide for the monks and nuns an armor of fraternal charity, interior and exterior silence, and liberating poverty. Concrete community guidelines focus upon five related points: 1) Fraternal Life 2) Prayer 3) Work 4) Silence and 5) Welcome and Sharing. Fraternal Charity The Rule never ceases to demand love, both of humanity in general and, harder still, of each other. "Only a very great love can offer the world a legitimate and fair defiance," the Livre de Vie explains. "Our vocation is to be a theophany of the love of God, a living icon of the Trinity. There is no more beautiful liturgy, no more eloquent witness, than that of fraternal love. We must live in the heart of the city the mystery of that love." Along with such a sublimely beautiful articulation of theory, the rule gives some concrete sug-gestions for achieving it: "Ask each day that God pour into your heart love for your brothers, and also to place love for you in their hearts. God can refuse nothing to a community who prays this way., ask the trinitarian God to reveal to you the secret of his unity in plurality . In order to succeed in loving, become transparent. Let yourself be known and seek to know. Knowledge opens the way necessarily to love . Do not be content to be a brother of all; be also a friend of each . Pray that the monastic fraternity be entirely translucent to the Presence of the Word, as a foyer of Light . " Prayer Designedly, the community life of prayer has both very public and very private features. Compline is said in their own oratories, but for the monks, the other hours are sung in St. Gervais, with public participation. The p~riod of evening pra~;er begins around 5 p.m. At that time, monks, nuns and townspeople begin to gather for meditative prayer, followed by the evening office. The office flows into the liturgy about 6 p.m., which finally finishes about 7:15. On Thursday night, the monks keep a prayer vigil from 8 p.m. to 7 a.m. "Pray in the night in the center of the miseries and joys of the city, where ~God has placed you, as a watchman awaits the dawn," the Livre de Vie exhorts. The founders realized that the execution of such a horarium and liturgy each day could be draining; for that reason the communities have a poustinia (desert) time during Sunday afternoon and the full day of Monday, 342 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 which is spent in the country outside Paris. They join Parisians in the national custom of taking a grand vacance during the month of August. Work To support themselves, the members of the Fraternit~s must take jobs in the city. Guidelines demand that their work must be truly useful, prayerful, well executed, and bear witness to their professed poverty. In line with their vow of obedience, their job is chosen in consultation with the prior and council of the community. No job may be taken which could alienate or destroy their religious equilibrium. By a deliberate option to work only part time, they hope not only to free themselves for liturgical participation, but also to manifest to an acquisitive society their own disinterest in amassing wealth. Though they take menial jobs, there is no political aim or thrust to this option. "Ni Marx, ni Keynes, ni Mao. mais Jesus," declares the Livre de Vie. They are to have no role whatsoever in political life, since in that arena, divisions, confronta-tions and compromises are the rule of life. Instead, they are to manifest the Gospel of Peace in the polis by their lives of justice and truth. This alone is their "political" role. However, in an elocution to the community, Cardinal Marty urged them to be "revolutionary"-- but revolutionary in fidelity to their monastic commitment only. Silence To combat the noisy assaults of city streets, with their roaring, swirling masses of buses, autos, motorcycles and scurrying citizens, the monks and nuns are urged by rule to drink deeply of the wellsprings of prayerful silence: "At work, in the street, in your comings and goings, in the public transport, in the midst of the brouhaha of the city, carry interior silence with you. Take, each day, large expanses of silence, and when the evening comes, meditate on your couch in peace and silence. God lives in you; listen to him." Welcome and Sharing One purpose of the Fraternit~s is' to provide an enclave of such silence and peace for other Parisians. Guests are welcomed to full participation at the silent dinner served at their flower-bedecked wooden tables. In contrast to ~normal French custom, no wine, and little meat are to appear at the table. Round loaves of thick crusted, substantial bread form an important part of their diet: Though visitors are welcome, there are definite limits placed upon thepenetration of Paris (and the world in general) into the horarium of the monastic community. Afternoons are for lectio divina. The Livre de Vie tells the entering candidate to leave aside his address book, and to give up once and ~f for all shows and cinemas. Television has no part in their life, but a summary of the day's news is read at breakfast from the newspaper. Citadins of Paris / 343 Life-Style Guidelines for the community actually allow for a diversity of life-styles and a diversity of relationships to the community, within limits. However, only those who agree to follow the Livre de Vie may make final profession. Presently (1980) the Fraternit~s have the status of a pious union. After a postulancy of three months and a novitiate of two years, a candidate makes temporary profession "entre les mains" (between the hands) of the prior. After a period suitably long to discern a true vocation to the life, the bishop of the local church receives the perpetual profession of vows of the candidate in the local church, for the universal church. The coule blanche, the liturgical habit, has many sacred significances. It reminds the wearer of his white bap-tismal garment when he dons it. Its radiant whiteness recalls as well the Transfiguration and the angel on Easter morn, who wore a garment white as snow. The Ancient One in Daniel's vision had snow bright clothing, and a man in dazzling robes appeared to Cornelius in Acts. At home, the monks wear a short, blue hooded smock, topped by a wooden cross suspended from the neck. The latter is also worn with their street clothes. The sisters, like many other groups, have types of non-liturgical dress that vary with their jobs and mode of life. Several wear floor-length blue habits, veils and capes in the streets. Others wear the simple clothing of working women. Spiritual Wellsprings The founder acknowledges his debt to many traditions in developing the spirituality of the Fraternit6s: to Benedict, Dominic, Augustine, Theresa of Avila, the Early Eastern Fathers, Charles de Foucauld, and above all, to the first Christian community described in Acts, as well as the fraternity immediately surrounding Jesus Christ himself. The Livre de Vie and Au Coeur des Villes are liberally enriched with quotes from sources as widespread in time as St. John Cassian and Catherine de Hueck. Believing that communal self-sufficiency in spiritual matters is ossifying, members are urged to nourish themselves on outside resources. The candidate is encouraged to spend a week at a school of prayer at Troussures, France, and make a retreat at a monastery such as St. Benoit sur Loire. Finally, a month-long desert experience at a place like Assekrem, Morocco, is encouraged. Future Plans It is quite evident that this group has tried to proceed every step of the way attuned to the promptings of the Spirit. The Fraternit6s have been invited to bring their type of monasticism to various cities. So far, they have accepted one invitation: under the priorship of Bishop Michel Marie Darmencieo, a member of the Fraternit6, they now are situated at St. Victor's Church at Marseilles, the scene of a monastery established by St. John Cassian. By rule, the community is forbidden to own property or t6 build anything. Wherever they go, they must rent their dwelling place. Into whatever city they do go, ~i44 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 ~they will enter with the purpose expressed in the explanatory sheet distributed in St. Gervais; to "experien.ce the difficulties, alienations, struggles, work, constraints, fatigue, noise, pollution, pains and joys, the sin and the holiness" of the city. Wherever they go, they likewise bear with them the spirit expressed in the Livre de Vie: "Do not forget that the community where you live is the privileged part of the universe where you are to situate yourself. May your monastery be first of all a part of the world where there is life, where love is shared, where joy, work, fervor, praise and peace are to be found. As at home, so also in the world. Reveal and find God in the heart of the world; remember its first beauty and anticipate its happiness to come. In the desert of the urban world may your monastery be an oasis of peace, prayer and joy; an epiphany of Love." On the final page of the Livre de Vie, Psalm 136 is transcribed: . If l forget you Jerusalem, Maymy right hand wither. One does not easily forget a liturgy at St. Gervais in communion with Les Fraternit~s Monastiques de Jerusalem. End of Drought 1 half awoke last night And wondered if I'd heard Soft whisperings outside my window. 1 was about to go back and continue my dream Then 1 stopped--and listened again. Yes, it was true A gentle rain Soft falling on my lawn. The bone cracked earth and croaking grackles Could drink again. It was a stealthy rain Loathe to intrude on the silent sleepers. Then in the morning it blew full blast And blessed the farmers and the flowers. Sr. Mary Margaret O'Grady Holy Ghost Convent 301 Yucca Street San Antonio, Texas 78203 Transfer to a Contemplative Community Marie Beha, O.S.C. Sister Marie's last article in these pages, "The Discernment of the Contemplative Vocation," appeared in the January 1981 issue. Her address remains: 1916 N. Pleasantburg Dr.; Greenville, SC 29609. These very days of your transition are perhaps the time when everything in you is working at him. Rainer Maria Rilke Though the changes in religious life consequent upon Vatican 1I are still too recent for adequate evaluation, they are beginning, at least, to come into the focus of observable patterns. One of these is the phenomenon of transfers from one religious congregation to another. A small but significant number of religious have opted to remain in religious life, but to live out their vowed commitment in another community. Perhaps this .emerging pattern will have something important to say about the future of religious life itself, and about the kinds of communities that have a future. However, any such speculation seems very premature at this point. What is immediate is the process itself, and what it means for individuals and for their communities. A few workshops have been devoted to this process of transferring, and several articles have appeared describing some of its pains and joys. But, for the most part, what has been presented is the movement from one apostolic congregation to another. The present article wishes to focus on transfers from an apostolic community to a contemplative one, a process that relates not only to the transfer phenomenon but also to that growing concern for prayer, and 345 346 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 especially for contemplative prayer, which has been one of the most hearten-ing aspects of the contemporary renewal of religious life. Transferring from one apostolic congregation to another has its own dynamics, quite distinct from what is involved in making the transition into contemplative community life. Failure to appreciate this difference makes it more difficult for communities and for individuals to cooperate with the promise and to evaluate the phenomenon. At the same time there are elements common to any such transferring--questions, for example, of the danger in-herent in the change, the discernment of motivation, as well as the paschal grace of such uprooting and coming into new life. It is the purpose of this paper to present some of these aspects as they are experienced in unique ways by the "contemplative transfer." Dangers and Difficulties To begin with a warning is only appropriate when there is real danger and when the danger may not be immediately evident. Such seems to be the case in regard to transferring. The process of transfer can be dangerous and the danger remain somewhat hidden, since the holiness of the objective may obscure a faulty theology undergirding the process, some confusion about growth in prayer, along with some elements of escapism and/or mixed motivations. The consequences of transfer can be as serious as the loss of religious vocation for the individual and the disruption of peace for both communities involved. Faulty theology may present the contemplative, monastic community as a more "perfect" form of religious life, even downplaying the importance of apostolic involvement as "too worldly." Since any vocational choice can only be evaluated in terms of the person choosing, speaking of an objective "state of perfection" seems to miss the point. Just as religious life itself can be termed a more perfect state (even in the Vatican II terminology ofPerfectae Caritatis) without implying that it would be so for any particular individual, so too, could some such judgment be made about contemplative life. But what is "~ important for the individual to consider is what is better for himself, not what is "more perfect" in the abstract and the general. Moreover, a spiritual theology which rests on the assumption that "one must always do the more perfect" is doomed to run into danger on the rocks of human limitation. Such perfectionism threatens strain and excessive preoccupation with self, neither of which fosters a contemplative spirit. Even for those who are immune from such a false theology, there remains a possible confusion about development in prayer. Sometimes a call to contemplative prayer is translated into a call to monastic life--with conse-quent loss.for the whole Christian community. The transition from a form of prayer that is more active to one that is more passive is a difficult time for anyone. Thomas Dubay has called this the "crack" period in religious development, and it may be compared with the difficulties and crises that are Transfer to a Contemplative Community part of any of the transitions from one life-stage to another. Such critical times do not provide the stability that makes possible good life-choices. Growth into a more contemplative form of prayer is actually part of the development that can be considered "normal" for most persons who are serious about prayer. It says more about the munificence of God's gifts and his desire to be one with us, than about any need to change communities. The latter is a very different kind of call and consequently, one that needs to be discerned separately. Transferring to a contemplative monastery during a crisis time in prayer might mask a reluctance to face the difficulties of persevering in prayer during times of dryness. Individuals may imagine that once they are enclosed, distractions will disappear and consolations will return--in abundance. They will be quickly disabused of such hopes in the everyday of monastic living. Even the prospect of having ample time provided for prayer will prove to hold its own challenge. For "more time" can also mean "more demands": more awareness of distractions, more painful dryness. Add to this all the unsettle-ments that are bound to be part of such a radical adjustment as transferring and prayer may well prove to be even more difficult than before. Similarly, any secret desire to escape the challenges of renewal or to insulate oneself from painful community relationships will be tested in the closeness of contemplative community. Unfortunately, some religious seem to equate monastic religious life with the kind of structured life in community that prevailed before Vatican II. So the desire to transfer can spring from a search for a more compatible expression of apostolic religious life, rather than ~t'~a genuine contemplative vocation. In reality contemplative communities have been just as much affected by Vatican II renewal as have apostolic congrega-tions. Changes, for example, in the living out of enclosure have caused just as many painful tensions as have adaptations in apostolic involvement. Struc-tures have developed in both forms of religious life and will continue to do so. Renewal requires participation, not escape, no matter where one is called to live. Nor does a transfer necessarily ease the tensions of community relation-ships. On the contrary, living in the close, everyday proximity of enclosed community may only heighten such tensions. Spending all one's days with the very same people, in a restricted area and with a limited sphere of activity can never provide escape from the interpersonal. "Contempla(ive community" actually requires a well-developed capacity for sharing life with others, including a delicate balance between intimacy and a respect for solitude which enables one to live with others in a silence that communicates life. In a similar way, an authentic call to transfer is anything but an escape from apostolic involvement. On the contrary, what will be needed is a vibrant desire to be given to and for the sake of others, joined with a faith that is strong enough to translate this call into an everyday service that is not sustained by any immediately tangible results. So if a person is dissatisfied with the :348 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 results of his apostolic work, it would be foolish to try and escape into the even less satisfying life of faith that is the "labor" of the contemplative. And if anyone hopes to find a variety of stimulating options within the everyday tasks of contemplative community, he will be rapidly disillusioned. Even the more plausible motivation of resolving a conflict between prayer and activity can speak more of escapism than of genuine call. Vocation is not discerned negatively, but only through such positive signs as a genuine desire for a life of prayer (not just more time for prayer) and a belief that this self-gift will bear fruit in and for the Church. Such positive criteria for discern-ment will be presented in more detail in the following section of this paper. These, then, are a few of the hidden dangers rising from faulty theology, a confusion about growth in prayer, and tendencies to eseapism, which could prompt an individual to transfer for the wrong reasons. Still to be considered are some of the real dangers involved in the process itself both in terms of the individual and of the communities involved. When a person professes vows, the commitment is made to God, but it is made within the context of a particular community, and this communitarian aspect is not to be changed lightly. Though made by man and so changeable in itself, life in community embodies a call that is divine and eternal. In all its particularity, community gives a specific form to vocation. While not of the essence, still this form may be a very important, even necessary, condition for vocation to grow and flourish. Consequently, changing from one community to another risks undermining the stability of the individual's commitment. If the new community does not provide the hoped-for environment, return to the former one may prove to be impossible and so a vocation may be lost. Other risks inherent in transferring center around the extent of adjustment which will certainly be profound. "Culture shock" is almost inevitable. Even though the "natives" of the adopted community speak "English," still new values, different associations will make it difficult to discover the meaning of words and actions, of response, and of nonverbal communication. The result will be a feeling of lostness and confusion that cannot be met by something as simple as asking questions. For there are no words in which to phrase the ques-tions, no answers that make sense. There may even be an unnerving lack of awareness that something has been "misunderstood" until confusion has deepened into a cloud as indefinite and suffusing as fog: Similarly homesickness for one's community of origin can be even more profound than the feeling that accompanied one's first leaving home for the convent. For the home that is now being left has claimed more of one's adult life and so has called for a freer choice, a more committed response. To leave ~one's family for .the sake of forming new life-bonds is part of the naturalpro-cess of growth and development. But leaving the community of one's first choice for another is not so natural, and the consequences are often profound and disturbing. In the process a certain spirit of criticism can develop. This may even bea necessary part of discernment as one reevaluates call and response, one's own Transfer to a Contemplative Community / ~149 vocation and that of both communities involved. But such critical reflection can become a pattern of thinking that keeps one on the periphery, "watching" and judging way beyond the period when this stance is necessary. This spirit of uninvolved criticism chips away at commitment and makes participation in community impossible. Such are a few of the real dangers involved for individuals who are con-sidering transfer'ring. What are the risks for the communities? Loss of membership in the original community is one obvious area of concern--not just the obvious matter of a person leaving this community to join another. What may be far more painful is the kind of vocational questioning that can arise among other members of the parent community. Such reevaluation may be wholesome, if it leads to renewed discernment of and commitment to one's own vocational choice. But it can also be weakening if it simply adds to diminished morale, feelings of hopelessness and that sense of disillusionment that plagues so many during times of transition. Similarly, the community receiving the transfer can have its peace dis-turbed if the new member, already a formed religious, brings along an incom-patible spirituality together with an undocile mind and heart. Within the closeness of contemplative community, such lack of harmony can be pro-foundly disturbing to all, with consequent loss of service to the whole Church. Such are the dangers in~,olved, both for individuals and for communities. The difficulties are real; the cost is certainly not minimal. The basic question is, then: Is transferring worth theprice? Are the real risks offset by still greater advantages? Are there compensations for the dangers? Yes, if transferring ac-tualizes a more personalized call-response, leading to still deeper commit-ment. When such is the case, not only will the individual find fuller life in the Lord, but both communities involved will also be enriched; such is the unity of all members in the one Body of Christ. The whole question of transferring, then, seems to hinge on the validity of this new call-within-a-call. Theologically such development is possible since the only absolute fidelity in this special covenant relationship is found in a God "whose love is everlasting." The response of any individual can only par-ticipate in this love through an ongoing "creative fidelity" aimed at fashion-ing all life's choices in the light of an original baptismal commitment. The direction for such responsiveness will always be toward greater specificity, a more personal love. Though this ongoing response will be shaped within the context of a particular community, this form, while remaining important, is still only conditional. It may be changed, if this will serve to realize more closely one's first commitment t6 the Lord. Particularly, then, for our present purposes the issue revolves around discernment of an authentic call to transfer from apostolic to contemplative life. Discernment an Authentic Call to Transfer What might be some of the signs that one is being called to deepen one's ~i50 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 baptismal commitment by transferring religious profession from an apostolic congregation to a contemplative community? Here we shall suggest a few of the practical ways in which the traditional vocational criteria of desire, right motivation, and ability to live the life, are evidenced in the case of a proposed ttransfer. \ A long-term desire for contemplative life seems one of the clearest signs that someone should undertake the risks of making a transfer. In many cases, this desire was already present at the time the individual entered religious life but, for a variety of reasons, it was never actualized. Circumstances may simply have made it impossible; ignorance or poor advice may also have con-tributed. So the desire was put aside, perhaps completely forgotten. Profes-sion was made, and that commitment lived out wholeheartedly and with joy. But years later the desire for contemplative life reappears. Sometimes it is recognized as a familiar part of one's past; sometimes it comes as a new and surprising idea with recognition only following later. In either case, such con-tinuity with the past provides a sense of direction in the unfolding of one's per-sonal salvational history. Even when.the desire for contemplative life is not remembered or recogniz-ed as part of one's past, at some point in the present the emergence of this desire becomes so strong that it can no longer be ignored. When first en-countered consciously, the desire is more often a matter of wanting to live out contemplative values rather than a careful comparison/choice of active-i verSus-comtemplative community. A whole life devoted to prayer, supported and challenged by a community of other "pray-ers," by solitude and silence, combined with a very simple, even austere style of life: these are some of the values that become increasingly important. As desire for them grows, so, too, does the longing for a way of living them out more fully and completely. At first this may be met by providing more time for prayer, arranging to live in a prayer-centered local community or one which is experimenting with a simpler way of living. For some, such restructuring of life-style is the answer; for others this is not enough, and the desire continues to grow. A period in a House of Prayer may be another option and, once again, this may provide the right balance of prayer and active apostolate for certain individuals. For others, the quest must continue simply because the desire for a purely con-templative life continues, increases, and must ultimately be met in life. This longing for a way to live out contemplative values may lead one final-ly to a moment of realization and choice. Apostolic religious life can no longer ~provide the support, stimulation, structure for the kind of contemplative life to which the religious feels called. And at this point, transferring becomes a matter of vocational decision. Such recognition is eminently paschal, filled as it is with the painful realization that one must leave behind his "homeland" and "pass over" a desert of unknowns. Yet there is also joy, an anticipation that what lies ahead promises more life, deeper peace. Even the pain of leaving the congregation of one's first profession is somewhat tempered by the realization that unless he Transfer to a Contemplative Community had given of himself there, had truly identified, there would be no loss now. Nor would there be much hope of future success. This experience of having been fully part of one's original congregation, of having found peace and joy in community there, is almost a presupposition of any authentic call to transfer. Someone who has not been happy originally probably will not find any more satisfaction in contemplative life. On the other hand, an individual who has known what it means to give himself to community and in community may come to realize that another successful identification is possible, even though it will be made with some pain. This returns us to the whole complex question of motivation. Why should an individual who has already made profession consider transferring his com-mitment to a contemplative community? In the preceding section we examined a whole series of false motivations, including poorly founded theological prin-ciples, escapism, and an inadequate understanding of contemplative life. These need to be confronted, not in the safety of abstraction, but in the reality of one's own life-experience, and with the realistic help of others who know the individual and both forms of religious life. Of even greater importance is the discerning of positive motivation, since a mere lack of obstacles does not give clear indication that a person ought to go ahead in a certain new life direc-tion. Vocation is positive call, not just an absence of negative criteria. To ask the "why" of one's motivation is important and fruitful but only so long as one keeps in mind that the "answer" cannot be found by adding up worttiy reasons, for, in the last analysis, human motivation remains mystery. It can never be known in its totality, with certainty. The reasons we give are, at best, approximations, and the final answer to the "why" is found only in the living out of the decision. Having recognized that a list of reasons never adds up to certitude, still it can be an indicator that an individual should risk the time and energy of a fur-ther discernment in actual life. Very often the "why" of a transfer can only be phrased in an unsatisfying "because, somehow, I can do nothing else." Such an experience of almost necessity, of inability to do anything else with one's life until this pressing question has been answered, may be an uncomfortable, but true indicator of basic motivation. Such necessity, though, is not a matter of compulsiveness, but rather of a freedom that grows, once the internal logic of choice has been admitted and acted upon. A person may come to discover that his whole movement of life has been in the direction of contemplative vocation, though the surface geography of his activities has been quite different. These very differences may even have been unconscious protest. Such, for example, is the case of an individual who has been a strong advocate of apostolic spirituality, of social involvement, of variety in ministries. All the while, what the person has been seeking on the deepest level, is a way of giving himself completely to the Lord. All the above are real ways; all have been tried. But all still leave something "wanting." "How can I be more giving?" becomes less of a question to be considered. Now it demands an answer that must be made in life. ~52 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 Traditionally, someone entering the monastery is asked, "What do you seek?" If the first answer, not just in liturgy, but in life is "The Lord," then there is good hope that what is being sought will be found. This is not to say that the person considering transfer has not already "found the Lord." But, like the good Christian who considers religious life just because of his previous discovery of the Lord, so too the individual who seriously considers transfer should only be desirous of greater union, a kind of intimacy that, for this par-ticular individual, seems more realizable in contemplative community. Put in still more concrete terms, someone who is already a religious may apply for a transfer because he experiences a desire to give prayer an absolute priority of time, energy, life-focus. In apostolic religious life, consideration of the needs of others, and of one's response to these needs, must always be cen-tral to discernment; this seems to be the meaning of apostolic spirituality. In monastic life, however, the central concern is the totality of life of prayer, and it is this dedication to prayer which becomes one's service to others. Consequently, the desire to give oneself to others through total dedication in prayer is central to any discernment of contemplative vocation, and this becomes even more critical when there is a question of transfer. This is because the person desirous of transfer has already internalized a spirituality of active, direct service, and his transition to a quite different orientation may not come easily or quickly, But unless an individual can come to see silence, solitude, simple manual work, austerity of life-style as contributing to a life of abiding prayer, and further, believe that personal prayer, lectio and liturgy are one's own call to building up the Body of Christ, then contemplative, monastic life will seem empty and fruitless. Moreover, such belief cannot re-main an intellectual assent, nor even an abstract faith-value; it must become personal conviction and motivation for life. Ultimately, then, desire and motivation are just the beginnings of discern-tment for a contemplative vocation. Only by living the life can the presence or absence of God's enabling grace be discovered. So let us conclude by sug-gesting some of the areas which will be particularly relevant in the life-testing of a call to transfer from apostolic to contemplative religious life. Will the potential transfer-person be able to go beyond the initial obstacles of radical adjustment with all its attendant anxiety, of separation from the original community which has provided so much of his identity and emotional support? Put in more positive terms, will the person, first of all, "survive" the transfer? For some, the culture shock, already alluded to, is so severe that there is consequent loss of health or debilitating emotional disturbance. And this, not just in the first crisis of adjustment, where it might well be expected, but increasingly as time goes on. When this happens, life experience leads to a negative discernment. On the contrary, when the Spirit is truly inspiring a person to make the transfer, then, despite the pain, growth will occur. Radical adjustment, separation anxiety, culture shock will all be in the service of conversion. The Transfer to a Contemplative Community / 353 individual will grow and grow in contemplative ways. A new identity will begin to emerge when the more familiar response of teacher, nurse, "member of." are no longer applicable. There will be a new appreciation for one's unique giftedness as person, simply because one is and one exists as a special expression of the Father's creative love. Growth will also occur through positive identification with the new com-munity. Ac.ceptance takes time but gradually new relationships will be formed, an individual will fit in, and his suitability for the life will be confirmed by the response of the community. What begins in strangeness will end in familiarity. For example, enclosure will no longer be a matter of adjustment, perhaps of difficulty, but will evolve into a simple means of ensuring the kind of solitude necessary for prayer. Prayer, in its turn, will grow and deepen. The regular praying of the Liturgy of the Hours in choir will no longer be unfamiliar ritual, nor frequent "interruption," but regular nourishment and opportunity for praise. The simplicity of the life, far from being monotonous, will lead to peace, making possible a "richness" of response that can only be sustained within a somewhat austere life-style. All of this, however, takes time. It requires effort on the part of the one who transfers; it requires also acceptance and assistance on the part of the community. Above all, it requires the empowering grace of God's call. When all of these are present, and when the passing of months and even years has allowed for a new identity to be formed, then the transferred person will final-ly come to recognize himself as a contemplative, a member of his new com-munity. The past will merge into this new present and integration will occur. For example, former skills and talents will find new expressions or will be sacrificed, "counted as nothing," in view of something still more worthwhile. Painful parts of the past will be healed; grateful remembering will allow all that has been to be incorporated into the present and open the way to the future. In short, adjustment will make way for gradual growth, and this growth will be in the direction of incorporation into the new community. When this occurs, the transfer will have been accomplished, and a new identification will have been made. The individual, as well as both communities, will be enriched, because, whenever life is lived more fully, the w.hole Body of Christ is vitalized. Let me conclude with a comparison. Among the old Irish monks, the grace of martyrdom was described in three ways: the "red" martyrdom of shedding one's blood, the "white" martyrdom of desire to give One's life for the sake of the gospel, and finally, the "green" martyrdom of exile, of pilgrimage and ac-cepted separation for the sake of new life in Christ. The transferred person may well find the grace of this unique vocation expressed in the hope-filled "green" of separation from what is familiar, good, loved, for the sake of greater union-- in contemplative community. The Right to Solitude Roman Ginn, O.C.S.O. Father Ginn, a monk of Gethsemani Monastery in Kentucky, has been living as a hermit in Latin America for the past fourteen years. His last article, "The Ladder of Prayer," appeared in the January, 1980 issue. Father Ginn's marling address is: Apartado 44; Huajuapan de Leon; Oaxaca, Mexico. The renewed interest in hermitical life during the last three decades should not be viewed with alarm but as a rediscovery of one of the first and most traditional forms of contemplative life. This rediscovery is taking place at a time when men are becoming more aware of their essential needs and rights. Speaking in the Music Council assembled by UNESCO, the violinist, Yehudi Menuhin, declared some twenty years ago that silence is one of man's princi-pal needs and concluded: "I hope that the right to silence will be recognized as being as important as the right to pure water and air." But the same claim should be extended to solitude. For if man is a social being who cannot develop as a person in perpetual solitude, in a very true sense he is also an un-social being who experiences the impersonality and artificiality unavoidable in relations with others (excepting perhaps with those who form his intimate cir-cle) as a kind of violence. The person's relation with society is problematic and neither his need for communication nor for solitude can be left unsatisfied without damage. But how can solitude be called aoneed and a right? Neither primitive peoples nor children feel any such need. But this is because they do not see it as a positive value but as isolation. Even the ea,rly Hebrews missed its positive side. They regarded solitude as an evil, a co~nsequence of sin, and promised God's special protection to those .moist exposed to it: the poor, widows, strangers and orphans. The Greeks however attained a positNe view of it. The hero of the Greek tragedies lives in a solitude that is both a condemnation and 354 ~ The Right to Solitude / :355 a privilege. Sophocles, for example, presents Oepidus as passing from a period of painful isolation into a new form of solitude that has something divine about it. But even if the Hebrews never escaped from a negative concept of solitude, they discovered the key to its understanding as a positive reality. For they gradually realized that each must 'learn to separate from the collectivity and face God and his will as an individual as well'as a member of society. They also saw that God could call some individuals to positions of confrontation with society which would force them to live in isolation. But they never managed to transform this isolation into a privileged situation and a means of closer union with God. So, without grasping the value of their discovery, they passed on the secret that man's development as a person is somehow connected with his ability to temporally break his ties to society in order to take possession of himself as a unique reality, an individual and responsible I. They present Jeremiah, for example, living through an isolation he deplores without know-ing how it is slowly transforming him from a timid, village youth into God's iron, ~ The oriental religions appreciated solitude as something positive long before the coming of Christ. Early Buddhist texts are full of its praise as a means of spiritual development. Even though Buddha himself later prescribed communal life for his followers, he never lost his esteem for solitude. In a statement preserved by the Itivattka, for example, he says: "O monks, have your dwelling and delights in solitude. Rejoice in solitude, dedicated to mental calmness in the depths of your selves, without forgetting to meditate, penetrated .with intuition; seek your dwelling in desert spots." The Udana records the story of the monk Bhaddiya who lived in a mango forest. Passersby had often heard him repeating over and over: "What happiness!" When they told Buddha about him, he called the monk and asked for an ex-planation. Bhaddiya replied: ¯ Sir, before, when i was a layman and enjoyed royal power as the father of a family, I had guards distributed both inside and outside my palace . And in spite of the fact that I was protected and safeguarded in such a way, I lived tormented by fear, restless, suspicious, frightened. Now, sir, wherever I find myself in the woods, under a tree or in a solitary spot, even though I am alone, I live without fear, tranquil, trustful, without trepidation, unworried, in peace, with whatever others give me, with my mind as free as a forest animal. This is why I repeat: "What happiness, what happiness." The poetic sections of the Buddhist canon love to use images of forest animals to describe the advantages of the solitary life. "Like a lion that over-comes everything, that wanders victorious as king of the forest, visiting its most distant corners and unfrightened by rumors." The solitary individual is likewise compared to the elephant and rhinoceros. The localities chosen by the first followers of Buddha as most apt for the pursuit of their end are another indication of the positive value they saw in solitude: mountains, forests, caves and cemeteries. 356 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 When Christian monasticism appeared in the mid-third century, it manifested a similar love for solitude, inspired of course by Jesus' example (See Mr. 4). Like their Oriental brothers, the Christian monks regarded it as the mother of the spiritual life. Cassian felt that normally the more solitude a monk had, the greater was his perfection.He put his third conference on the lips of Abbot Paphnutius, who lived in such inaccessible places that even other hermits "only with great difficulty caught a glimpse of him every now and then." Such a man was fittingly surnamed the Buffalo. But the fact that most of the praises of solitude in the early Church originated with monks (or ex-monks like St. John Chrysostom) does not mean it was something that concerned them alone. If they exploited it more than others, it was only because in general they took Christian life more seriously, and experienced the positive role of solitude in its development. Their appraisal has been confirmed by modern philosophers. Kierkegaard among Christian, and Nietzsche among non-Christian thinkers strongly stress the importance of solitude for personal development, If they exaggerate, this is only a perhaps necessary reaction to modern society's fear and devaluation of solitude. Nietzsche makes it the supreme value, one indispensable for the growth of all others. For a Christian it can only be a means, even though one - greatly neglected today. As the Greeks saw and the Hebrews sensed without clearly understanding, solitude reveals man's deepest self to him making it possible for him to become aware of his interior resources and discover meaning in his life. Because of its value in helping the individual pass from the suggestion of the collectivity to the liberty of maturity, it is a basic human right that must be carefully p~eserved. For the Christian it is also the entrance into that most sacred and secret .region of the person--his interiority--where union with God takes place. As St. Augustine loves to repeat, God is in the most intimate part of us. He is more truly within us than we are. Even after one has experienced enough solitude to develop into a mature person, periods of it will continue to be necessary, during which one's self-possession may be renewed. Otherwise a gradual self-alienation can set in that will prevent the individual from entering into deep and lasting communion with others and will allow him or her to sink into the negative solitude of isola-tion. Positive and voluntary solitude is a good way to prevent negative solitude. Such periods of solitude should not be used to sleep or simply rest in, but to feel out one's roots actively and become more one's true self before God. Only by doing this will the individual again become fit for fruitful rela-tions with others. There is al~;ays a danger however that we will turn solitude into an ab-solute, and be tempted to stay there. This would not be right, for God calls very few to follow in Abbot Paphnutius' footsteps. Too many buffalos would upset the Church's spiritual ecology. The ideal in most Christian lives will always be a happy balance betw~ei~ solitude and s6ciety, as Jesus himself lived The Right to Solitude / 357' it. To stay longer in solitude than God wills can lead to spiritual sterility. But after all the danger of overstaying one's time in solitude is not great. For, as many who have attempted hermitical life during the last thirty years have discovered, if the solitude is real, it will become unbearable for someone who does not belong there. As one of the Desert Fathers remarked: "The desert vomits out those whom God has not called into it." Covenanl The Father knocks at my door seeking a home for his son: Rent is cheap, 1 say. I don't want to rent. I want to buy, says God. I'm not sure 1 want to sell, but you might come in to look around. 1 think 1 will, says God. I might let you have a room or two. 1 like it, says God. 1'11 take the two. You might decide to give me more some day. 1 can wait, says God. I'd like to give you more, but it's a bit difficult. I need some space for me. I know, says God, but I'll wait. I like what 1 see. Hm, maybe 1 can let you have another room. 1 really don't need that much. Thanks, says God. 1'11 take it. I like what 1 see. I'd like to give you the whole house but I'm not sure-- Think on it~ says' God. 1 wouldn't put you out. Your house would be mine and my son would live in it. You'd have more space than you'd ever had before. 1 don't understand at all. I know, says God, but 1 can't tell you about that. You'll have to discover it for yourself. That can only happen if you let him have the whole house. A bit risky, 1 say. Yes, says God, but try me. I'm not sure-- 1'11 let you know. I can wait, says God. 1 like what I see. Margaret Halaska, osf On Being a Superior Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Father Meenan resides in the Jesuit community of 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Though it may seem strange, .I would like to begin a treatment of the role of the superior by reflecting for a bit on the phrase we so often use, "Thy will be done." When prayed, as in the Our Father, does it make any sense at all, when you think about it? Is there, for instance, some ,super-God" to whom the prayer is addressed, asking that he take care of God so that he makes sure that God's will gets done? Or maybe God doesn't know what his will is, so we pray, "Hope you find out." Perhaps God is in a struggle, so that our prayer is equivalently, "Hope you win!" In other words, this phrase doesn't make much sense--if you just take it at its face value. But I think that the phrase does begin to make sense when ! begin to realize that, in using those words in prayer, I've taken a stand. Whether I join my will to his in prayer or not, his will is simply going to be done. What I am saying when I use those words is, "I want his will to be done. I 'want in' on the whole process. I want to be involved." And so there is a commitment of myself to the project when I say, "Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done." Then the prayer begins to make sense because it takes me from the luxury of being a bystander and puts me right in the middle of things. It begins to make me hungry that his will be done. And then, in truth, it becomes the prayer of my heart. Then it becomes a real prayer--and a fruitful starting point for a reflection on the role of being superior. The problem is that the words come too easily. The problem is that I have grown up with the words, and I lose track of them, of what they say. The problem is that I have said them too often. I fiave gotten used to them. And so they lose the force they should have: that there is a great project afoot, and I want to be involved in it. And this, basically, is what this article on the role of 358 On Being a Superior / 359 / the superior is going to be about: God's will for the person who is superior in t the exercise of the office of being superior. For purposes of this article, I don't care about the sociology of leadership. I don't care about the psychological dimensions of community. And I certainly don't care about the canonical details of implementing the office. What I do care about is the~spiritual a___.__~sp.e__~c_t 9 fob_ei_.o.ng s__~up.e~r_ior, of getting a feel for the role of being a superior. I care about the conviction that one has in exercising the office of superior. Conviction is going to involve feeling, precisely because one's whole person is involved in the truth of what he is saying when he speaks or acts from conviction. What I would hope to evoke in the course of this article is a conviction, a felt truth, that locates the person, invests the person, identifies the person in what he knows. To this end, I would invite the person who is superior to share with me, through these pages, in a meditation. I.f we are going to make a meditation together, we ought to have a "com-position of place." For this, I have chosen Peter at the lakeside, after the Resurrection, when, according to John's gospel, Christ said to Peter, "Feed my sheep'." Just before this, he had asked Peter, "Do you love me more than these?" Isn't it a shame how cheap we have made the word "love" today? What does it mean to say, "I love you more than these"? The question is important because what is at issue is the building of a life on the love of God. But how do we know if we do love God? Is our confidence in our love go-ing to come out of our feelings? Well, for most of us, God isn't "real" enough for us to have very strong feelings about--except rarely. And probably in those moments, often enough, the individual is deluded. In point of fact, most of the days of my life, I don't feel love for God. How do I know, then, if I love him enough to be able to build a life on love? t/~ I f I love, I will do the work of love. I f love is there, the fruit of love will be there. If I am concerned about the things of the Lord, about him and his kingdom and his service and his glory, then I know I love. I don't care what I feel. I know I love, because the fruits of love are there. Even here, though, the issue is not all that clear, simply because I can also fake the fruits of love. I can ape them. I can do great and good things, noble and glorious things--without love. I can do them just because I am ambitious, or because I hate to leave things untidy and have a neurotic concern for neatness, or because I want to be noticed, or because I have career preferences, or because I have a developed sense of responsibility, or because the easiest way to be invisible is to be merely and conventionally competent since, if there are no problems in my sector, nobody is going to stick his nose into it--and that is what I want t'o be, invisible. What is done for any of these reasons does, I suppose, represent the "works of love," but these works stem out of my love for myself in one fashion or another, not out of my love for God. 360 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 In determining the presence or absence of the love of God, then, it is clear that the intention is going to be very important--not the expressed intention, but the real intention. And the real intention is in the heart and soul, lying under the words I use to express it. The grace of our meditation will be the grace not to be deaf to God's call, but prompt and diligent to do his most holy will. If being superior is a chore, a task for an individual, then that individual is going to fail. If it is not a work of love, then at best he will be merely a good administrator. At best, he will make the canonists happy. But if being a superior is a response to God's call, if there is an eagerness to be prompt and diligent to do his will, then the person will not be the performer of mere tasks: he will be a superior. 'From what has just been written, it is clear that I am convinced that being ¯ superior is a very definable, concrete, explicit vocation from Almighty God to a particular individual. In terms of this call, God says to those whom he sum-mons in this fashion, "Feed my sheep," which is the core reality of the voca-tion of being a superior. You see, being a superior is a vocation, a call from God. It is much more concrete than one's'~all to enter a congregation. It is more clearly defined than one's professional competence. In the present circumstance of the Church, superiors have a definite term: a beginning, a measurable beginning, middle, and end to this concrete call that they have. Their call includes definite areas of responsibility, rather more clear than in the usual run of job descriptions. The superior has a definite flock to be fed. Being a superior, then, is easily discernible. Is it really a call? We religious have a way of using all sorts of pious vocabulary with a great deal of conviction--so long as we are talking about somebody else. We have all attended at one time or another the circumstances of somebody else's tragedy, when it's easy for us to see that tragedy so clearly in terms of God's providence for them and for the victim. But when it comes to ourselves, somehow we find that our faith is rather more brittle. Too often for us religious, it is very easy to isolate "God's providence" into some abstract awareness of God as "Lord of History" because, for example, of what .he did to Israel, what he's done to the Church, what he's doing in the history of the world at the present time. Is God, though, Lord of your life? If he is Lord of yliofue,r then how can you explain the meaning of being superior, if not in terms of his Lordship? Is God faithful and loving? Because, if he is, how are you going to explain being superior save in terms of his faithful, loving exercise of Lordship in your regard? We can see how it gets to be a bit more difficult to be quite so confident of the "providence of God" when it begins to reach closer to home. It is much easier to see him as Lord of others than as Lord of myself. Does God care for the congregation? If he doesn't care for the congrega-tion, then he couldn't care less who was superior. If he does care for the con-d gregation, then he must care very much about who is superior--though this On Being a Superior does not mean at all that he has chosen the best possible person. It doesn't mean that he has chosen the most competent person. It doesn't even mean that he has chosen an able person. It just means that he has chosen a person. He has exer-cised a definite, deliberate choice in wanting you to be a superior of his com-munity for which he cares very much, in regard to which he says toyou, "Feed my sheep." It is time now to return to the reflection with which we begari regarding our earnestness for God's will. How earnest are we for God's will? Not out there, ~not in the future, but here and now. The,fact is that either God is not God at all, or he has call~ed you to b____~e a superior. If he has called you, he has expressed his will. You can choose to ignore it if you--want, but you cannot intelligently deny this fact without denying that God is God. b\ Being a superior is a vocation to do what? To feed his sheep in all the ways that make sense. His.sheep are workers in his vineyard, and the superior's feeding of his sheep is going to include nurturing their capacity to work in his vineyard--to be apostles. His sheep are your sisters or brothers in Christ. These are not vague groups of girls or boys that walk in the front door of an institution. These are your sisters or brothers in Christ, persons who have a call to the community that you say you love. These are the sheep that he has entrusted to you to be nourished by you. If all of this is true, then the only adequate approach to exercising the i office of superior is going to be as an act of religion. The alternative is to ex-clude God from your individual salvation history, the salvation history of your congregation, and the salvation history of the Church and world today. Therefore it follows that the key which unlocks the whole mystery of being a ~ superior is going to be found in the area of acts of religion--which is the same area that includes the taking of your vows in the first place. This is the same area, too, that envelops your whole prayer life. This is in the same area as your whole living for God. If this is true, then the individual is going to want to be a superior after the mind and thought and heart of Christ. His mode of being a superior is going to be the expression of his r~ligious involvement in God's will--or it is nothing. In seeking to make this act of religion real, the superior will make use of many aids to help him. But it is the act of religion that is going to give life to the whole process. So the superior will make use of whatever he can learn from management theory, from the psychology of the human person, from the sociology of community. He will make use of all these because they are tools given into his hands, tools that make it possible for him the better to enflesh into reality the act of religion that is his response to God's call. But if this religious response is not effectively there, if the soul of the pro-cess isn'~ present, all that's left is'a corpse. And no psychologist is ever going to make a corpse come alive. If all a superior does is to oversee the production of a corpse, then he would be better off seeking a position on a middle- 369 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 management level of some large corporation and make cars for the rest of his life. At least it would be a safer way of wasting his life; and he would only be touching others merely in their jobs. We religious like to talk a great deal about zeal. If you are serious about zeal, then you have to see in this call from God to be a superior a concrete way of enfleshing your zeal. Otherwise, you are going to be lost in a dreamland, phantasying about future generations of yet unborn souls whom you will "save" some time or other, some place or other. If you were serious about zeal, then you would be very much taken with God's will. If you were serious about his will, and thought that he was calling you, then your zeal would be a hunger to respond to his call, and he has called you to be a superior. In saying to you as superior, "Feed my sheep," he wants you to take unto yourself his sheep, those very special ones whom he has called in a very special way, and who, therefore, need a very special kind of nurtur- ~inagn,d he has sayiodu, You feed themsey sthheeapt, swo hat I have sown in their hearts may come alive." What we commonly see today is a great deal of reluctance on the part of } persons who are unwilling to become superiors for a variety of reasons. ~ From the beglnmng of time, but especially ~n the present age, a man would be out of his mind to want to be a superior. In fact, to want to be a superior is usually a guarantee of failure: not necessarily administrative failure, the failur--"~f-s~perficial effectiveness, but the substantive failure of one who, though called to be of and for Christ's kingdom, may live in exterior darkness, all the while doing great things with brick and mortar--and quite possibly destroying souls for the sake of his mere brick and mortar. So there is fear in the face of taking on such an office, and it is common today. Ther_e ar~t least tw_o~.possible_sources.of_this._~fear. One of them is healthy, eminently healthy, and the other is unhealthy. The healthy fear, I think, comes out of vision. The person who has this healthy fear, for instance, would usually have a fairly clear idea of what the founder wanted in starting the congregation. He has a pretty good idea of the value of a soul, and therefore also has a pretty good idea of the preciousness of each of those special souls called by God to religious life, and whom the superior is supposed to nurture in this vocation. In terms of such a vision, the person would have a very clear and distinct notion of the goal--not of the practicalities, but of priorities and purposes. A person with this kind of vision also recognizes that the vision is of God. And a person with that kind of clarity must see himself as unworthy. So he says, "No, not I. I can't do this." Now there are two t~ings that are healthy about that fear. One is that this sense of unworthiness comes out of self-knowledge of a sort that would arise ~when a person looks at himself against the background of such a vision. With this self-knowledge, in looking at the job, at what the call is, he is aware of his very real impotence; he has a sense of his utter helplessness. The other healthy aspect of such a fear flows precisely from this On Being a Superior / 3{}3 awareness: it is that the individual has a clear and distinct sense of one's need for God in responding to such a vocation. He cannot fulfill such a call, and therefore he would need God. Beingaware of his unworthiness, he has a very healthy desire not to be a superior--until it becomes clear that this call is truly from God. Then, retaining his sense of unworthiness, knowing that God chooses weak things of this world to achieve his purpose, the individual ac-cepts God's call and, in his need, turns to God. Such an individual truly has the spirit_of.a_superior's vocation. . Th~nheal~ the, but more common fear that has become particularly fre-quent" "--~---'---"-'-'during our time in religious life stems, for whatever reason, from a loss of vision, or, alas, from the fact that the individual never had a vision in the first place. When such a person is confronted with the job-requirements, he is often faced with something that is, for him, vague, blurred, unmanageable. He often asks, "What does obedience mean now? What do any of the vows mean now? What does the apostolate mean now? What does the vision of the congregation mean now?" And on, and on, and on. His fear is as blurred as is his sense of vocation itself. Without a vision, such a prospect for the office of superior does not look out to God's vineyard, but into the interior of the community. All he sees when he looks around is conflict, antagonism, varieties of resistance, burdens and crosses--and he wants no part of that kind of crucifixion. So, for his own security and comfort, he is afraid to be a superior. And that kind of fear, if the job is thrust upon him regardless, leads to paralysis, a paralysis that can find a variety of ways of expression. He can be .the do-nothing, the absolutely do-nothing type, who keeps his hands totally off everything except the signing of checks once a month--and this only if the treasurer has succeeded in making an appointment. Or he becomes the type who is only an~administrator. He becomes only the outside contact-person working with benefactors. He becomes only the friend of t

Issue 40.2 of the Review for Religious, March 1981. ; treat Director and the Contemplative. The Problem Member in COmmunity Trends of 1980 Volume 40 Number 2 March 1981 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Departmeqt of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. © 1981 by REVIEW FOa RELIGIOUS. 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: $10.00 a year; $19.00 for two years. For subscription orders or change of address, write: REVIEW ~'Oa RE'tJ(;tOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55802. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Jeremiah L. Alberg, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Book Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor March, 1981 Volume 40 Number 2 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELtG~OUS; 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 Aven~e at 54th St.; Philadelphia, PA 19131. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from R~:vtE'W roa REtJGIOt~S; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. To Experience God Donald Macdonald, S.M.M. Father Macdonald's last article, "When Did We See You?" appeared in the issue if May, 1980. He is master of novices for his community, residing at Baria Bhavan; D.R. College P.O.; Bangalore 560029; India. T ~ . oday, many people are looking for an experience of G~d. Whether they are young people at charismatic prayer meetings, or their bored brothers and sisters, so many; searching for life, have given up on Christianity asking,. "Where can I find Jesus now?" Many an adult Christian knows what it is to have labored long and have gained nothing: "Why has baptism not taken root in any recognizable way? Why is good will seemingly not enough to experience God? Saint Anselm put this experience of so many in a nutshell: Everywhere You are entirely present, and I cannot see You. In You I have my being and l cannot come to You. You are within me and around me, and I have no experience of You.' How can I experience God? I would not presume to map out anything so particular as the contact between God and the individual. Who can know the mind of God or man? I suggest in these pages just one pattern that may en-courage the reader seeking an experience of God. There are many, many more. A key to the problem of experiencing God is to know something of what happe.ns between God and ourselves. Here, personal experience is essential, along with integrity,~ or we can find ourselves in the bogus world of what is to-day called "Karma Cola." One guide of outstanding integrity and proven record is St. Paul.2 With ' Anselm. Proslogion Chapter 16, in the Prayers and Meditations of St. Anselm (Penguin 1973). 161 162 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/2 deceptively calm matter-of-factness, he suggests a beginning: "The depths of a man can only be known by his own spirit, not by any other man" (l Co 2:1 l). We live in private, self-contained worlds. God, too, is very much apart. "In the same way the depths of God can only be known by the spirit of God" (l Co 2:11). So we have two poles, God and man. How can they meet? What happens if they do? Paul offers to help: "we have received the Spirit that comes from God to teach us to understand the gifts that he has given us" (l Co 2:12). His experience of the Spirit is such that he believes that he is now able to see into the very depths of God, "for the Spirit reaches the depths of everything, even the depths of God" (l Co 2:10). Here, as so often, Paul uses words so simply to contain concepts which almost defeat language. Yet the in-trinsic evidence of his letters, and his part in the history of Christianity, would support that claim: "in Christ, we speak as men of sincerity, as envoys of God and in God's presence" (2 Co 2:17). Experience has further taught Paul that he can only speak of these matters to those who have received the Spirit: "We teach., in the way that the Spirit teaches us . spiritual things spiritually" (l Co 2:13). Someone "who does not accept anything of the spirit of God . sees it all as nonsense . beyond his understanding because it can only be understood by means of the Spirit" (l Co 2:14). Chess and algebra may well fascinate a mathematician. On the other hand, the finest of classical music is lost on a deaf man. Today's pop musicians ~ay that if you think their music is too loud you're too old. Cot ad cor Ioquitur is. as valid there as in any field of human understanding. " ~ In view of this, if we wish to experience God we would do well to reflect on what it means to be baptized, because that was when we received the Spirit. However much. we may envy some of our charismatic friends or wish that we were "twice-born Christians," perhaps the practica'l first step would be to take ourselves as we are. God has-loved us enough to give himself in baptism. This is an objective, ontological fact. Here God has entered our lives. A New Creation What then happenedat baptism? It is hard to say. Paul speaks of the ex-perience of "a man in Christ who fourteen years ago was caught up.into paradise and heard things which must not and cannot"be put into human li~nguage" (2 Co 12:2,4). But in trying to share this experience, Paul's starting point is invariably ~he same: "The love of Christ overwhelm~ us when we reflect." (2 Co 5:14). Love is its essence. Love is itsmeaning. Christ came through a ~rave to be with Paul, so real was Paul to Christ.' Thi~ glimpse.into the depths of God by this "man in Christ" has so transformed his outlook ~ "When we fix our gaze on the life of men who have followed Christ faithfully, we have a new motive., the safest route whereby we may arrive at perfec! union with Christ. which suits each man in his condition and in his own circumstances." Lumen Genlium, 50. To Experience God / 163 that he can only speak of what has happened to him in terms 0f creation, something from nothing. "For anyone who is in Christ there is a new creation; the old creation has gone and now the new is here. It is all God's work" (2 Co 5:18). It is a radical change in life--root and branch. He has now a new center of gravity, so creative is the experience. Anyone aware of what is happening in baptism knows that he can be wholly transformed, like those who now "live no longer for themselves but for him who died and was iaised to life for them" (2 Co 5:15). "What's in it for me" then becomes a "What's in it for Christ?" It is an experience of love received in a faith that is truly creative, as I allow myself to be loved by God, Father, Son ~and Spirit. I now march to a different drum. I am in Christ. My selfish, self-centered world has been opened up to admit God. Ligh! Clearly, the reality or otherwise of this experience will depend, in part, on my understanding of what it means to be loved by God. Paul, baptized as a mature man, attempts to explain what h~ppened to him. This time he writes in terms of the creation of light. The awesome Creator-God of the opening of Genesis who had said "let there be light shining out of darkness. ~ had shone in our minds to radiate the light of the knowledge of God's glory, the glory on the face of Christ" (2 Co 4:6). This mystic, pl.ung.ed into the depths of God through the Spirit received at baptism, believes his mind to be illuminated to an unbelievable degree. The face of Christ coming to him in love holds :him en-thralled. He can now glimpse something of the glory of God. "Glory" generally means what God is like insbfar as we can be aware 6f it. This Paul sees in the face of Christ, and, gazing as he does, he can both receive and reflect the likeness of God: "our. faces reflecting like mirrors the brightness of the Lord, all grow brighter and brighter as we are turned into the image that we reflect. This is the work of the Lord who is Spirit" (2 Co 3:18). Paul, christened, and so a man in Christ, lives in Christ. His personality and world view are illumined as he allows God to love him in Christ. He becomes like what he sees, in love, in joy, in suffering, in experience, in life, realizing this is the work of the Lord who is Spirit. Paul has no need of the Turin Shroud to see the face of Christ. He needs no reproduction. "Even if we'did once know Christ~in the flesh, that is not how we know him now" (2 Co 5:16). The dominant note in his life is the creative, illuminating presence of God in every circumstance, bar none. God is, above all, loving and present to him. And as it is almost impossible not to return the warm smile of a welcoming friend, so to see in faith Christ as present, loving, smiling, courteous, has a similar effect. A sketch of what Paul saw can be found in 1 Co 13:3-7: "Love is patient; love is kind and envies no one. Love is never boastful, conceited nor rude; never selfish nor quick to take offense. Love keeps no score of wrongs; does not. gloat over other men's sins but delights in the truth. There is nothing love cannot face; there is no limit tO its 164 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/2 faith, its. hope and its endurance." Christ sat for that portrait, as has so.often been remarked. Is this the company I keep? A lady who was gradually losing her eyesight once told me that what she missed most was being no longer able to see the smile of a friend or a wave from a neighbor. Small in themselves, but only the loss of ~ight s~hows how much these things mean in fact. Now she is closed in on herself, walks with a l~esitant step. Previously when returning the smile or acknowledgment, she saw ~that she was recognized, loved, "somebody." It was lovely to receive these gestures, and they undoubtedly helped make her lovable. When we realize what happens in baptism, we recognize that the same holds true for the Christian. Temple of God Paul knows that words and concepts cannot adequately express what he has experienced. "Now we are seeing a dim reflection in a mirror." (1 Co 13:12). As the art critic, Bernard Berenson, used to say as he looked at the beauty of the world, "Where were my eyes yesterday?" But Paul never gave up trying to share what he was experiencing. A third helpful analogy of his, following upon creation and light, was the symbol.of the Temple. The God of Israel dwelt with his people. They were who they were precise-ly because God was among them. For a time the heart of the community was the Temple, the symbol of God present among his people. At the heart of the Temple itself was the "holy of holies" (naos). Here God was present as nowhere else on earth. So sacred was his presence there that only the high priest dared enter, and that, only once a year. "Take off your shoes for this is holy ground" was above all true there. "O God we ponder your love within your Temple" (Ps 47:10) is easily understood within that context. The Catholic devotion to God's presence in the tabernacle evokes similar prayers. But how would such a prayer sound on the waterfront at Corinth? Here was a seaport, with half a million in population, in a class of its own for depravity even by contemporary pagan standards. "O Lord I love the house where you dwell, the place where your glory abides" (Ps 2~:8). Within the community bf Israel as reflected in the Temple at Jerusalem, yes, this is real-- but Corinth? Paul, however could see its application. Once baptized into a Christian community, I both enter and become a temple where God is present, just as in the holy of holies of the Jerusalem Temple. The parallel is extraor-dinarily vivid. Pa~l, who could say "Hebrews are they? So am 1. Israelites? So am I. Descendants of Abraham? So am I" (2 Co 6:16), is most emphatic: "We are the temple. And to underline it still further the word "temple" (naos) could be correctly translated by the more reverent terms "holy of holies" or tabernacle. That statement from someone of Paul's background is almost in-credible in its realism. The same immensely powerful image is applied to the individual: "Your body, you know, is the temple of the Holy Spirit, who is in you since, you received him from God" (1 Co 6:19-20). The creative, il- To Experience God / 165 luminating presence of the Trinity at the center of myself offers a dynamic of love, which, glimpsed, can leave me speechless in adoration, wonder and .humility. Such love from the Trinity present to him will bring from Paul reserves and qualities he scarcely knew he had, especially in view of the heartbreak in his life. He will be stretched to the limit and beyond. He is challenged by the creative, loving presence of God, in an ever-deepening personal relationship that death itself will only intensify not break. The prospect of total fulfillment in the continuing gift of himself to God, Absolute Truth, is held out to Paul; "then we shall be seeing face to face . Then I shall know as fully as I am known" (l Co 13:12). All that he has experienced must be in terms of knowledge and love or it would never reach the heart of Paul the man. It is knowledge, and love intensified, given another dimension by God, which makes it possible for the baptized to enjoy this personal relationship with God. God could do this. God has done this. God loves us. It is literally wonderful that reality includes for me such a.perspective. My personality is respected by God. Yet at the same time he invites me to deepen all that is truest in myself to the limit of my being. An enriched personality is given a taste for knowledge and love as seen in Christ, and a lifetime and an eternity to savor and enjoy it. Personal [niegrity Once baptized, therefore, and aware of what is happening, life for me can never be the same. The heart of the mystery, not to be explained, is to wonder how I can be so loved by God and not lose my identity. Perhaps respect and reverence lies at the heart Of love. Certainly Paul is ecstatic at times. Words cannot express what he feels. Yet he is always his very individual s~lf. It is not necessarily the self he would want to be (see 2 Co 12:10), but it is Paul as he is today to whom God is present, not Paul as he might wish to be tomorrow. This is equally true of his Corinthian community. "Do you not know that you are God's temple and that God's Spirit dwells in you?" (1 Co 3:16). This is the magnificent compliment he pays them, yet he writes to people to whom he "was unable to speak., as people of the Spirit. I treated you as. infants in Christ. What I fed you with was milk, not solid food, for you were not ready for it; and indeed you are still not ready for it." (l Co 3:1-2). Paul has no illusions about human nature.But with realism like that, there are many "infants in Christ" who would be grateful for any milk that Paul could offer. For, as must be i'ecognized, there is solid food there. After all, no child ever takes his father's every word literally, especially when he is anxious and upset: "You might have thousands of guardians in Christ, but., one father and it was I who begot you in Christ'Jesus." (1 Co 5:15). Paul therefore tries to show that the baptized Christian can experience the creative, illuminating presence of God: "This is the work of the Lord who is Spirit" (2 Co 3:18). Three reasons suggest that his experience can be mine. 166 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/2 Simple, Practical, Emotional First of all Paul's approach is simple. The new creation, with a new central reference point in Christ not myself, is easy to see as it dawns on me that I am so approached and loved by the Trinity. Reflect, assimilate, adore and wonder is a first step, and in God's own time, the experience may be mine at a level beyond woi'ds and ideas. Repent, and believe the good news. ~ Looking in faith at the face of Christ attending to me in love is bound to il-lumine existence for me as I meet him all the time everywhere, and not by chance. "Indeed as the sufferings of Christ overflow to us, so through Christ, does our,. consolation overflow" (2 Co 1:5). Even suffering, so much a part of life, is seen in Christ: ','That is why I am quite content with my weaknesses and with insults, hardships, persecutions and the agonies I .go through for Christ's sake" (2 Co 12:10). The man who can cope with suffering can cope with life. For Paul it was no magic wand nor temperamental strength, but being with Christ that enabled him to take so much that was so often beyond his control. He becamelike what he saw. I, too, can live in that world. Belief in the Trinity's presence to my inmost self can evoke much in me by way of response, from adoration to sorrow, as I allow ttie nearness of God to possess me. God, dare I say it, focuses on me. 1 can, wherever I am in my or-dinary day-to-day life, develop a cast of mind centering on the Trinity, whenever not immediately held by work demanding concentration. None will know, it will disturb nobody. It provokes no strain at all, simply receiving God's constant presence with open arms. "We are only the earthenware jars that hold this treasure" (2 Co 4:7), but undeniably it is a treasure. Secondly, Paul's approach is practical. In this article I have deliberately limited myself to Paul~s Corinthian corresponde'nce. Every New Testament reference 1 used, e~plicit or implicit, is from there. I did this because if anything is true of Paul and Corinth it is that circumstances were truly lifelike and far from ideal. His association with the Corinthians may have done much for their faith but little for his nervous system. What we call 2 Corinthians was written because he could not go to them personally. They had made it very clear that he was not wanted. He had to write a letter therefore or forget them. Yet Paul never suggests that his understanding of Christ will never work in Corinth. The dockworkers (longshoremen?) of Corinth may be a challenge, but much of the attraction of St. Paul is to watch him use every resource to ap-ply what.he knows of Christ to the here and now. And underlying everything he says is the assumption that what is true of him in his experience of God can be true for them. With Paul it is invariably us, scarcely ever me and you. Paul makes no mention of the need for seminars or retreats or courses. ¯ Nothing will be said of the need to learn how to sit, to breathe, to concentrate. Biofeedback will not be suggested. Houses of prayer, hermitages, or prayer communities have no place in his counsel. This. is important because, in-valuable as all of these are and to be encouraged, they can be overdone. Too many today can be discouraged. We may spend our time reading the critics, To Experience God / 167 never the classics. The marvelously open, welcoming, rough and tumble world of the New Testament may today in the Church be reduced to little more than eclectic, gnostic groups, where the elite may go to their" ashrams to experience God. Groucho Marx once said that he would never join a~ club which would have him as a member. That is almost a prescription for membership of the Corinthian (and traditionally our Catholic) Church. Look at yourselves, says St. Paul, "how many of you were wise in the ordinary sense of the word, how many were influential people, or came from noble families? No. God chose what is foolish.weak., by human reckoning., those whom the world thinks common and contemptible are the ones God has chosen" (1 Co 1:26-28). There is no understatement there, but many of us will recognize our unbelievable luck that Paul is on the side of the majority. Finally, Paul's approach can engage our emotions. This is important because unless our feelings or emotions are committed we are not involved. Far from being the refuge of the intellectually weak, emotions are invariably active in everyone though not always recognized. Reason and logic are sometimes disguised emotion. A gut.reaction may be inarticulate but a real ex-perience. Reason will not often carry the day against feelings. So in baptism we can move out of our possibly subjective, ill-ordered world into the creative enlightening World of God's loving presence. The Gospel offered by the Church:can be an objective reference point and keep us from making religion ¯ in our own image and likeness. So our feelings and.emotions can be purified, educated and deepened as we respond to the demands of the loving presence of God. The actress, it was said, ran through the whole range of emotion from A to B. Paul is not so crippled. No human feeling is excluded as he honestly admits that once "we were so utterly and unbearably crushed that we despaired of life itself . " which is rock bottom in any language, yet "~God who raises the dead., delivered us., and he will deliver us . On him we have set our hope" (2 Co 1:8.10). The Retreat Director and the Contemplative Robert O. Brennan, S.J. Father Brennan resides in the Jesuit formation community at Murray-Weigel Hall; Fordham University; Bronx, NY 10458. Prayer is a very personal thing. General statements about prayer can border on the dangerous. What may be helpful to one person may be counterproduc-tive, or downright dangerous, for another. The great advantage of the directed retreat should be that the dialogue about prayer can be tailored to fit the retreatant's actual situation in prayer. And to make this advantage real, the retreatant must make clear to the director just how he or she prays, at least as well as this can be done. It may be that it is the contemplative who can be most helped or most badly hurt in the course of a directed retreat. And by a contemplative here, I do not mean necessarily a member of a contemplative order. Such a one is likely to be safe, either because of lack of motivation to make a directed retreat or because he is are solidly grounded in the tradition of contemplative prayer. But our area of concern here is any retreatant whose prayer has grown to, or at least grown toward, contemplative prayer. I would .suggest that such retreatants fall into three classes: a) those whose prayer is definitely contemplative, whether they know it or not; b) those on the edge of the transition to con-templative prayer; c) those who have ceased, or nearly ceased, to pray because discursive prayer has failed them and they do not know where to turn. In the following pages, I hope to be able to give some guidelines for a director who meets a retrea(ant in any of these classes. Contemplation First of all, what do we mean by contemplation here? In the history of 168 The Retreat Director and the Contemplative / 169 writing on prayer, there have been a number of definitions, classifications, subdivisions, along with a whole body of speculation as to its precise nature. To keep things under reasonable control, let us attempt some sort ofa descrip-tion rather than a definition. Let us say "Contemplation is prayer that has become exceedingly quiet so that one might call it an intuition--a loving intui-tion- without clarity but with darkness and obscurity." Perhaps .this might be best understood in its genesis in the person who prays. Let us suppose a person who has been praying in the way many have been taught today. It is very likely a case of praying over a passage from Scrip-ture-- a slow reading, reflection on the persons, words, actions, long delay if a word, a phrase, an event appears particularly striking, an attempt to place oneself in the scene, if it is a mystery of the Lord's life, applications to one's own life and circumstances, words of prayer to the Lord or others in the mystery, or to the Father. Prayer in this manner could for some persons con-tinue for a long time--perhaps a lifetime--and be of great profit. But for many persons after some time, the whole process may begin to fail, not because of tepidity or sloth; if it were tepidity, the person would not sense ¯ there was a problem. Rather, as much as one may try to continue, there is no perception that one is praying. God is simply not to be found. Such an ex-perience can be agonizing. Often this indicates a time for a change, and, usually, there is need for a guide. The model of discursive prayer has been so prevalent--in early educa-tion, in so many preached retreats, in the books on prayer that one turns to for help--one could be convinced there is no other. Without special help, grace and graced guidance, prayer could just cease. Part of this syndrome we can understand rather easily: the mind has had its day. Not only has it had all the insights it needs, but it is unable to cope: the God it is beginning to know cannot be comprehended. Part of the story is less clear. It is the work of faith, grace and love. Though the mind is inadequate to encompass God, faith and a loving will can reach out. But here there is mystery and much depends on individual history and cooperation with grace. And, as the mind, so the imagination can no longer be of help, nor the emotions and feelings which find no adequate object to attract them since the mind itself seems empty. There may be times when one has a strong sense of being in God's presence, but the preponderant feeling is that of being empty, unable to do anything. The only positive advice John of the Cross gives is "a loving and peaceful attentiveness to God. without the concern, without the desire to taste or feel him."' In another place he advises: ' St. John of the Cross, Dark Night of the Soul, Bk. 1, ch'. 10, no.4. See The Collected Works of St. John of the Cross, trans, by Kieran Kavanaugh, O.C.D. and Otilio Rodriguez, O.C.D., In-stitute of Carmelite Studies, Washington, 1979. All quotations from John of the Cross will be 170 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/2 When the spiritual person cannot meditate, he should learn to remain in God's presence with a loving attention and a tranquil intellect, even though he seems to himself to be idle . And if, as we have said, scruples about his inactivity arise, he should remember that the pacification of soul (making it calm and peaceful, inactive and desireless) is tip small accomplishment. This, indeed, is what our Lord asks of us through David: Vacate et videte quoniam ego sum Deus. 2 The Director This sketch of contemplative prayer hardly does it justice. The important thing for the director to take from it is the fact that such states of prayer do in fact exist and are good. All prayer is the work of God's grace and love. In our own minds we should not be too ready to set limits on what God may do, or to see contemplation as such a rare and extraordinary thing that it scarcely ever happens, or only to great saints, and certainly not to our retreatants. But when the appetite.has been fed somewhat, and has become in a certain fashion ac-customed to spiritual things. God begins to wean the soul, as they say, and place it in the state of contemplation. This occurs in some persons after a very short time; especially with religious, for in denying the things of the world more quickly, they accommodate their senses and appetites to God and, in their activity, pass on to the the spirit which God works in them. This happens when the soul's discursive acts and meditations cease, as well as its initial sensible satisfaction and fervor, and it is unable to practice discursive meditation as before . ~ Or, to cite a contemporary author: It could be said in a very general way that affective prayer will last as long as such shelter-ing is needed. So too with meditation: how long an individual will go on praying in that way will depend very much on mental ability, and on previous education in Christian doctrine. Someone who has had a long and thorough education in the Faith may find quite soon after taking up systematic meditation that it seems not only unattractive but impossible. A saturation point has been reached: the mind has absorbed as much as need-ed of this nourishment. As much, that is to say, as the person needed, to pray as the Spirit of God wishes.' Of course, it is possible to go overboard and expect to find contemplation everywhere. But this certainly has not been our failing in the recent past. What we need most is to try to be alert, sensitive, and open, to accept that God leads along many different paths. Although the present article is an attempt to give the director some essen-tial helps and caveats, it is fairly clear that some reading of competent authors on contemplation is to be recommended. To assist in this, I will give a short annotated bibliography at the end of the article. taken from this translation. Besides chapter and verse of St. John's particular work, we will give page references to the edition, as, for instance, here: Works, p.317. 2 St. John of the Cross, Ascent of Mt. Carmel, Bk.2, ch. 15, no.5, Works, p. 149. ~ St. John of the Cross, Living Flame of Love, Stanza 3, no. 32, Works, p. 621 f. 4 Leonard Boase, S.J., The Prayer of Faith, Our Sunday Visitor, Huntington, IN, 1975, p. 70. The Retreat Director and the Contemplative / 171 Developed Contemplatives Let us discuss those whose prayer is already contemplative as the first case. Some of these may have made the trafisition from meditation to contempla-tion with the help of a skilled director or by fortunate reading. Some may have--not without much grace--sort of muddled through. They pray but they don't understand what is happening. There are probably doubts and some lack of peace. Broadly speaking, this prayer strikes those who come to it as something rather unim-pressive. A frequent reaction is given in the phrase, "I am doing nothing." There is a general sense of untidiness. Nothing seems to be happening. There are moments of more intense consolation, but they'are few. In good times there is a sense of peace and content-ment, a satisfaction in prayer which appears difficult to explain, since there is seemingly nothing to account for the satisfaction. In the lean years prayer is distressing because it appears such a waste of time--nothing but an unavailing effort to chase a clutter of hens out of the flower-garden, thro~'ing stones with one hand, as it were, at pertinacious distractions, and with the other hand groping in the dark for something or someone.5 Inthe contemporary climate of spirituality, some also may have arrived at contemplative prayer through reading about or participating in workshops in "centering prayer.''~ They may not yet know if this is their way of prayer. Or some may have tried Eastern ways of meditation and be looking for roots in Christ. The director will want some criterion to judge whether those who are using contemplation are doing so authentically or have fallen into some illusion. The test is ancient: What matters is the result. The after effects of good prayer are more definite than the prayer itself." I mean a determination to follow God's will, and to care for nothing else, without any reason to be given for the determination.' The one real proof that you have the right kind of prayer for you, is not that it always goes easily and always succeeds, but that it really does you good and changes your life.8 If the test is passed, and the director is convinced it is a case of genuine contemplation, the whole question of how to direct this one in a retreat arises. But prior to this, I believe it would be good to discuss some norms for direc-tion that apply equally intime of retreat and outside retreat, and leave the par-ticulars of the retreat itself until later. The first duty of the director will be that of affirming the retreatant's (directee's) prayer, and this by way of instruction and encouragement. First, instruction: make sure the retreatant knows that the simplicity of his or her pra~'er is correct; that it is not now a question of using the mind, imo ~ Leonard Boase, S.J., op. cit., p. 92. 6 Centering prayer = prayer of faith = contemplation. See Pennington in the bibliography at the end of the article. 7 Dom John Chhpman, O.S.B., Spiritual Letters, Sheed ahd Ward, London, 1935, p. 62. ~ Ibid., p. 135. 172 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/2 agination, and so forth; to seem to be doing nothing but waiting is not only not bad, but the very best. The following passage from St. John of the Cross has always sounded to me as being very modern, with its reflection about wasted time and bad self-image: The attitude necessary., is to pay no attention to discursive meditation, since this is not the time for it. They should allow the soul to remain in rest and quietude, e.ven though it may seem very obvious to them that they are doing nothing and wasting time, and even though they think this disinclination to think about anything is due to their laxity.9 The director might suggest the possibility of the use of a mantra to fix at-tention: If you want to gather all your desires into one simple word that the mind can easily retain, choose a short word that the mind can easily retain, choose a short word rather that a long one. A one-syllable word such as "God" or "love" is best. But choose one that is meaningful to you. Then fix it in your mind so that it will remain there come what may. This word will be your defense in conflict and in peace. Use it to beat upon the cloud of darkness above you and to subdue all distractions, consigning them to the cloud of forgetting beneath you. Should some thought go on annoying you demanding to know what you are doing, answer with this one word alone. II~ your mind begins to intellec-tualize over the meaning and connotations of this little word, remind yourself that its value lies in its simplicity.'° Play down the role of, and the frequent worry about, distractions: o Distractions are of two kinds: (a) the ordinary distractions, such as one has in medita-tion, which take one right away: and (b) the harmless wanderings of the imagination alone, while the intellect is fixed on God. These are quite harmless.'~ Sometimes we are, so to speak, in touch with God, but are beset with distractions, and every effort to get rid of these distractions only serves to break our contact with God. This is a state, referred to by St. Teresa, in which no attempt should be made to banish distractions. It is somewhat analogous to the case of a hostes~ entertaining a visitor on the ground floor while her children are making noise upstairs. If she goes up to keep them quiet, she has to leave her visitor.'z Above I said the director should affirm the retreatant's prayer by instruc-tion and encouragement. Of course, in this material, instruction can equal en-couragement. But let us turn to matters that are more explicitly encouraging. Dom Chapman's letters are filled with passages where he brings our accep-tance of God's will to the acceptance of the state of prayer we may have: But prayer, in the sense of union with God, is the most crucifying thing there is. One must do it for God's sake; but one will not get any satisfaction out of it, in the sense of * St. John of the Cross, DarkNight, Bk. 1, ch. 10, no.4, Works, p. 317. ,o The Cloud of Unknowing, ed. William Johnston, S.J., Doubleday Image, Garden City, 1973, p. 56. ~' Chapman, op. cit., p. 290. ~2 M. Eugene Boylan, O.C.S.O., Difficulties in Mental Prayer, 2nd. ed., M. H. Gill and Son, Dublin, 1944, p. 102. The Retreat Director and the Contemplative / 173 feeling "I am good at prayer," "! have an infallible method." That would be disastrous, since what we want to learn is precisely our own weakness, powerlessness, unworthiness. Nor ought one to expect "a sense of the reality of the supernatural" of which you speak. And one should wish for no prayer, except precisely the prayer that God gives us--prob-ably very distracted and unsatisfactory in every way! '~ But if we only pray in order to give ourselves to God, then the prayer we can do, whatever it is (doubtless it is not the very best we can do, but in general it is the only kind we can do), is what God wants, though it is far from being what we want. Only we must try to want what God wants, and only that. Don't worry." A favorite maxim of Chapman's was "Pray as you can and don't try to pray as you can't." He puts this doctrine to one correspondent in the form of a question: Can you do anything else? Can you choose your path, your prayer, your method or want of method?" At least ten times in the collection of his letters, Chapman insists on the point: want only the prayer the Lord is giving you. These passages suggest the purifying effect of contemplation. It becomes so arid at times that we must be praying not for our own sake but for God's sake. The reflection on our prayer after the prayer is finished, recommended by St. Ignatius in the Spiritual Exercises~6 could also be of help to a con-templative who seems just to be stumbling along. Reflection may reveal an obscure sense of Presence that was missed during the prayer itself: ¯ . ihe experience of void, of emptiness, of no-thing and non-being; it is the condition of kenosis and poverty of spirit. The sense of absence and negation is painfully real. Yet the experience seizes the reality of God more truly, because it touches him as he is, beyond feelings, images, concepts. Living faith alone can achieve this, and the purer and less en-cumbered the faith, the more real the possession of God. By the same token, however, God, the object of faith, becomes less "visible" or empirically experienced in any human terms. ,7 The fact that writers on prayer are concerned with the states we find in ourselves is itself an encouragement: To add to our distress, the failure to enjoy the sense of God's presence, often coupled with failure to fix the mind even for two moments on any thought that might provide a contact, makes us feel that we are doing nothing, and that bur so-called prayer is nothing but a waste of time and an insult to Almighty God. It is very necessary not to be stampeded or panicked by the cry that rises in our hearts, "I am doing nothing." One simple way of proving that we are not doing nothing is to Chapman, op. cit., p. 52. Ibid., p. 54. Ibid., p. 56. Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius, no. 77. Ernest E. Larkin, O. Carm., "The Dark Night of John of the Cross," The Way, vo. 1,4, no.l (1974), p. 15. 174 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/2 stop doing it. Provided that in spite of appearances we have been endeavoring to reach awareness of God, then the cessation of the endeavor will be observed.'8 Now let us turn to specifics for the time of retreat. What we have said so far is not to be forgotten. The most difficult thing for the director is to lay aside the expectations that the retreatant will: 1) have thoughts, insights, feel-ings in time of prayer;'2) report to the director said thoughts, insights, feelings of prayer time. To have these thoughts and feelings, insights, belongs to a kind of prayer that makes use of the mind and imagination. For the con-templative, these have been set aside. John of the Cross is adamant on this: Once a person has begun to enter this simple and idle state of contemplation, which comes about when he can no longer meditate, he should not at any time or season engage in meditations or look for support in spiritual savor or satisfaction, but stand upright on his own feet, with his spirit completely detached from everything . ~9 Chapman concurs: All those who find it impossible to meditate, not from la~:iness or lukewarmness, and find they cannot fix their thought on a subject, or understand the meaning Of the words unless they cease to feel that they are praying, are meant to cease all thinking, and only make acts of the will.2° Some directors may feel that they have had experiences with contemplative ret~'eatants contrary to this prescription. I think we must be careful in making this judgment. The retreatant may have felt constrained to follow carefully the given directions and somehow come through with something to report on. It may be that he or she is actually reporting on events that occurred outside of prayer. Or it is possible that it has come from a prayer time not without ex-treme violence to the prayer: Though, at first, a// meditation seems impossible, still, as one is practiced in contempla-tion, it becomes possible to meditate feebly and contemplate feebly at one and the same time. I mean that we can retain a filmy idea of some great truth--but then the tap is only half turned on of attention to God--unless the thoughts are merely in the imagination. This is good in hearing Mass, for instance, but not in time of mental prayer?' But if this has happened, we have failed in an important way. The annual retreat may be most fruitful for many if, through it, they find how they should pray best. And this praying "with the tap half off" is not the affirmation they need. So what is left for the director to do? Two things, I believe. The first is to do what I have just indicated: what is necessary inside and outside of retreat time: affirm the retreatant's prayer. Use all the helps given above, and any others available--some readings, perhaps--to assure the retreatant that he or L. Boase, pp. cir., p. 81. John of the Cross, Living Flame, Stanza 3, no. 36, Works, p.624. Chapman, pp. cit., p. 289. Ibid., p. 122. The Retreat Director and the Contemplative / 175 she is praying as the Lord would have them pray; suggest they accept his will; let them see they really don't have much choice if they are going to pray at all. Some may have experienced the "tap half open" that Chapman speaks of: a thinking while they pray, but with the realization that their thoughts really are not their prayer. Encourage them to open the tap wide. In addition to this, the second thing: the director can still use Scripture, and the retreatant can actually move through a program--even the thirty-day Exercises. Only in this instance the Scripture is not to be the object of formal prayer. We have been constantly pointing out that for the contemplative, meditation is not prayer. But in the many periods outside of formal prayer during a retreat day, tho~ughts may come. The Scripture passages may bear their fruit. Let us refer to Chapman again: Outside the time of prayer:--(a) Meditation must never be dropped. It need not be elaborate consideration, but a mere glance at the mysteries of our Lord, especially of the Passion. Most people will find it very easy and helpful to make the Stations of the Cross in private?~ Again, the reflection on the prayer period can frequently be a source of special grace. Though there may have been no th6ught in the prayer, especial-ly helpful insights may come at this time. Chapman points out an effect of prayer that may have important meaning here: .and this act,of wish to love must go on increasing, or I should say at once the prayer is bad. But whether there is any emotional feeling outside prayer depends on the character of the person in question. But l am sure good prayer must increase tenderness (so to speak) and appreciation in a momentary look, without long consideration. And I am sure there is an "irradiation" from prayer on ordinary knowledge, making it broader and more compreh~nsive.Z~ If the retreatant's prayer is very quiet and if the circumstances of retreat reduce distractions so th~it the sense of Presence of the Lord is strong, even that Presence can be Colored by the phase of the retreat. How it may be I don't know, but I believe the modality of Presence, ol~scure as it may be, i~ different for a retreatant in the First Week of the Spiritual Exercises than it is for him in the Fourth Week. All this may sound very un-Ignatian, but I do not believe it is. There is an interesting couple of sentences on theoprayer of the Ignatian Exercises in the Dictibnary of Spirituality: But the Exercises aim to lead a soul in the way and manner of prayer which God wishes for it. Ignatius does not judge in advance what the divine work will be.2' Ibid., p. 292. Ibid., p. 78 f. Dictionnaire de SpiritualitY, Beauchesne, Paris, 1953, t2, pt.2 col. 2025: Mais les Exercises vi- 176 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/2 Is this entirely gratuitous? I think if one takes a look at Ignatius' history of prayer, one will read certain phrases in the Exercises in exactly the sense of this quotation. Although annotation no. 15 refers directly to decision making, it has other overtones: . but in the course of these spiritual exercises, it is more appropriate that., the Creator and Lord should be left to deal himself with the soul that belongs to him, receiving it into his love and the life of praise . " What is Ignatius saying in Annotation 20? The more our soul finds itself in perfect solitude, the fitter does it become to approach and reach up to its Creator and Lord; and the closer it gets to Him, the more disposed does it become to receive favors and gifts from his supreme divine goodness.26 Then there are implications in one interpretation of the Application of Senses, the final prayer of nearly every day of the Exercises. If one accepts Mar6chal,27 the Application of.Senses leads from discursive prayer toward contemplative prayer. If this is indeed Ignatius' intention, I doubt that he would mind if the retreatant turned to contemplation before the end of the day, or from the beginning of the day. Certainly not all questions are a0swered, all difficulties overcome. But I believe that if the director guides the contemplative in the way outlined here, which includes very little Scripture each day, the retreatant will grow in the Lord.z8 The director definitely needs some of the faith Ignatius had that the Lord really is very much dealing with his creature whom he loves with a love that is tender and powerful. The Transition to Contemlflation Our second case is one who is on the border line between meditation and contemplation. Such a retreatant is a very special person. It is a critical time. There is an opportunity for great growth. There is the chance that even long years lie ahead without peace in prayer, a sense of being at sea. There is also the danger that prayer will prove to be just so different that it will be complete-ly laid 'aside. Certainly the director cannot determine all--this we must face. There is only one real expert on what helps a person in prayer, and that expert is the person who is praying. The director may make suggestions, give warnings, teach. But only the one praying can tell if it works--except for the criterion of sent ~ conduire ~'6me dans la voie et le mode d' oraison que Dieu veut pour elle. Ignace ne prdjuge pas I'opdration divine (M. Olphe-Galliard). 2, Spiritual Exercises, no. 15. Corbishley's translation (Anthony Clarke, Wheathampstead, Hert-fordshire, 1973). 26 Ibid., no. 20. 27 See the article on "Application des Sens" in the Dictionnaire de SpiritualitY. ~B 1 say "little Scripture" here as the program for the retreat. If the retreatant will be helped by more extensive reading, it certainly should be considered. The Retreat Director and the Contemplative / 177 the effect the prayer is having on daily living. Is the retreatant at the point where attempts to meditate should be given up, where he should turn to contemplation? St. John of the Cross gives signs for this in two places which Chapman abbreviates as:'9 1) impossibility of meditating, no pleasure in using the imagination, delight in being alone and waiting lovingly upon God;3° and 2) dryness, without.comfort either in God or in creatures, painful anxiety as to fervor, inability to meditate.3' John of the Cross also discusses the transition at length in Stanza 3 of the Living Flame of Love, but there he seems content with the inability to meditate, and his atten-tion is very much on the director.3' John's teaching is thus summarized by Chapman: . Many persons pass long years., when they cannot meditate, and yet are afraid to contemplate; and the signs are less easy to recognize. They have tried methods, one after another, they have tried reading and pondering, and then reading again (a good way of keeping off distraction); alas, perhaps they have almost given up mental prayer in despair . They do not feel urged by a frequent thought of God, nor do they dare say that they have a disgust of creatures. On the contrary they have found the spiritual life so dry that they have felt thrown upon creatures for consolations., they have imagined themselves to be going back because they have no devotion, no "feelings"; and perhaps they are really going back, since they have not learned the right path forward. But they have the essential marks., for they cannot meditate--it is a physical im-possibility . They are able to think out a subject, to work out a sermon., but they feel such considerations are not prayer. They want to unite themselves with God, not reason about what he has done for them or what they have to do for him.~ If things are anything like what Chapman describes here, certainly ex-perimentation is in order. The retreatant should be encouraged at least to try some quiet times, times of waiting or listening. Later I will mention some reading material especially for those who may have given up prayer, which may also be useful. Chapman mentions the possibility of an interim period: There is sometimes a period when meditation is sometimes possible, sometimes not. In this case use meditation whenever possible. This state will not last long.~' If the experimentation shows some signs that tfiis is the right direction to go, the material we gave above for the developed contemplative should apply. I suppose one should mention the possibility and danger of someone out of pride claiming that the contemplative way is his or her way. It could happen. ~9 0p. cit., p.287. ~o TheAscent of Mt. Carmel, Bk. 2, ch. 13, Works, p. 140 ff. ~ The Dark Night of the Soul. Bk. I, ch. 9, Works, p. 313 ff. ~2 Works, p. 620 ff. ~ Chapman, op. ~it., p. 287 f. ~' Chapman, op. cit., p. 289. St. John of the Cross agrees with this: Ascent, Bk. 2, oh. 15, Works, 148. 178 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/2 If it does, questions of humility, obedience and charity should help to suitable discernment. But in the prayer culture of more recent times, the preponderant influence has not been to make false contemplatives but to give the impression that there is no such thing as contemplation. Resuming Prayer Again Ernest Larkin speaks of the beginning of contemplation: This initial con, templauon ~s at first so tenuous and delicate that it would go undetected without the outside assurance of a spiritual director." Often, of course, there is no spiritual director to give that assurance. And without it, many lose their way in prayer. This has a special element of tragedy about it: the opportunity for growth has become the occasion for slipping backward. If a retreatant has a sense at the beginning of the retreat that "it's not go-ing to work," he may actually be experiencing this crisis. If he reports that there has been no regular prayer for a long time lately, especially if there was once a tithe when prayer seemed to mean Presence, this may indicate that ~he invitation io contemplation has been missed. Certainly a review of the retreat-ant's history of prayer is in order. I like very much Chapman's "Pray as you can and don't try to pray as you can't." A friend has turned it around a bit: "If you are persevering in prayer, you are probably praying at least close to the way you should." A prolonged attempt ,to keep prayer up when one is not praying in the way one should will not work. What does this all add up to? Hope, I think. If a retreatant has not been praying, first try to explore and find the prayer that is best for this one now. There is a chance you have a contemplative on your hands who just needs to be aimed right. As to beginning afresh, or where you left off, I don't think you have any choice! You simply have to begin wherever you find yourself. Make any acts you want to make and feel you ought to make; but do not force yourself into feelings of any kind.J~ The exploration may include some attempts at discursive prayer--but not pushed too hard. The whole atmosphere ought to be "Lord teach us to pray";" and the expectation that the Lord will confirm the right way of prayer by his Presence, even if most obscurely. If the results seem to indicate that the way of contemplation is right for this retreatant, the material presented above should prove again useful. A retreat director who has helped a retreatant who has ceased to pray to find his way again has done an excellent Ernest E. Larkin, O. Carm., 7~he Way, 1974, p. 14. Chapman, op. cit., p. 53. One might offer some readings. See the bibliography at the end of this article. The Retreat Director and the Contemplative / 179 thing. Perhaps tied up with the syndrome of laying prayer aside is a kind of par-tial laying it down: "I can't pray for more than a half hour"; "Centering works for me for twenty minutes." Implicit in such statements seems to be a theory of prayer that says it ought to be easy or feel nice, or be successful. Many of the quotations we have given thus far show that prayer is a work of faith, and that it is purifying and often most difficult. We can add another: You are on the lookout for "consolation," merely because you still imagine that you are not serving God properly when you are in dryness. Make up your mind once for all that dryness is best, and you will find that you are frightened at having anything else! Em-brace aridities and distractions and temptations, and you will find you love to be in ~ darkness, and that there is a supersensible light that is simply extinguished by consola-tion!~ a Those, then, who claim that only short periods of prayer work need in-struction: How long to I~ray. One thinks of one full hotir daily . St. Peter of Alcantara says, "When the time is too short, it is passed in unloading the imagination and in bringing the heart under control; just at the moment when we are ready and ought to be beginning., we stop it . It would seem that the more active and distracting our daily life is, the more need there is of a full hour of "relaxing, coming to rest in God". We . need the~daily "healing of soul" and "opening to the Spirit" in quiet and silence if we lead a busy life . In view of all this, one would not advocate the practice of having two separate periods of thirty minutes each, instead of one full hour at one time.~9 But if centering prayer (rightly understood, this is just another name for the contemplation we have been talking about) is right, don't try to prolong it by discursive prayer. Rather persevere ,in silent faithful waiting. Chapman, op. cit., p. 99. James Borst, M.H.M., A Method of Contemplative Prayer, Asian Trading Corp., Bombay, 1973, p. 25. SOME REFERENCES FOR READING What I present here will not be systematic, mainly what has helped me. In some cases I will give more background, iri others less. Throughout the text of this article, I have carefully suppressed any references to "dark nights" or to "mysticism," lest anyone be scared away. Sooner or later it has to come out. It can't be avoided in these references to the literature. But maybe it won't sound so bad now. Dom John Chapman, O.S.B., Spiritual Letters, first published 1935, Sheed and Ward, London. An insert in my copy says "distributed in the United States by Christian Classics, 205 Willis Street, Westminster, Md. 21157, though I believe it may be found in many bookstores. 180 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/2 This is obviously one of my favorites. Chapman, a convert, died in 1932. His letters are almost exclusively to those whose prayer seems to be contemplative and his advice is very much down to earth, In appendices there are two special essays: "Contemplative Prayer, a Few Simple Rules" and "What is Mysiicism?" St. John of the Cross, Collected Works, translated by Kieran Kavanaugh, O.C.D., and Otilio Rodriguez, O.C.D., Institute of Carmelite Studies, Washington, D.C., 1979. Many have felt that John of the Cross would be too difficult. He is actually writing for beginners and is much con-cerned with the transition from discursive prayer to contemplation. This transition, the failure of mind and imagination to be prayer, is what he calls the Dark Night of the Senses. It seems unfor-tunate that the term "dark night" is used so casually to mean any difficulty in prayer or the spiritual life and at the same time so little attention is given to its real meaning for St. John. The most useful sections of his writings in connection with the problems we have been discuss-ing are in the Ascent of Mr. Carmel. Ch. 13, 14, 15 of Book II (Works, p. 140 ff.); in The Dark Night of the.Soul, Book I, Ch. 8 to about 13 (Works, p. 311 ff.); in The Living Flame ~fLove, Stanza 3, 27 ff. (Works, p. 620 ff.). In this last section he has some unkind words about spiritual directors he has known. Leonard Boase, S.J., The Prayer of Faith, Our Sunday Visitor, Huntington, IN, 1975. This is the second revision of a gem that first appeared in 1950, published then by the London Apostleship of Prayer. It is surprising in how many libraries you may find it--a testimony of how its worth was recognized. This book is aimed at someone who is having difficulty in prayer precisely bgcause discursive prayer is failing. It is beautifully written. M. Eugene Boylan, D(fficulties in Mental Prayer; M.H. Gill and Son, Ltd.,Dublin, 1944. This used.to scare me. The title's reference to mental prayer suggested "more techniques for medita-tion." Actually, in purpose it is much like Boase. One chapter toward the end is "The Prayer of Faith." Jean Pierre de Caussade, S.J., On Prayer, trans, by Algar Thorold, Benziger, New York, NY, 1931. The introduction is by Abbot Chapman. In this work, de Caussade reduces to a kind of catechism Bossuet's work on Quietism. The first part of the book is on th6 errors of Quietism, and if it exaggerates the actual intent of the Quietists, at least it shows what was condemned in the name of Quietism. I found it useful. Sometimes it seems that a fear of Quietism may be operative in keeping prayer very active. The second part of the book (sometimes printed by itself) helps one grow toward simplicity in prayer--still in the form of question and answer. James Borst, M.H.M., A Method of Contemplative Prayer, Asian Trading Corporation, Bom-bay, India, 1973. The sixth edition is the one I have. The preface to the fifth edition is dated 1975. The foreword is by Abhiskiktananda, known to many by his own book on prayer. Despite the remoteness of the publisher, I believe this is quite available in good .religious book stores. It is hardly more than a pamphlet, 62 pages. Fr. Borst is a member of the charismatic movement in In-dia, but the book is all on contemplation. It is an excellent "how to do" introduction. The Cloud of Unknowing, anonymous 14th century English writer, Doubleday Image, Garden City, N.Y., 1973. A classic on the subject of contemplation. The editor is William Johnston, S.J. The Book of Privy Counseling by the same unknown author is included in the Image edition, as well as cross references to the works of St. John of the Cross. M. Basil Pennington, O.C.S.O., Daily We Touch Him, Practical Religious Experienc(s, Double-day and Company, Inc. Garden City, NY, 1977; and Abbot Thomas Keating, O.C.S.O., M. Basil Pennington, O.C.S.O., and Thomas E. Clarke, S.J., Finding Grace at the Center, St. Bede Publications, Still Run, MA, 1978. Both these books are introductions to "centering prayer"--the title taken from Merton and the technique from the Cloud of Unknowing. There is considerable overlap between the two books, Pennington's contribution to the second matching much of what he says in the first. As I read it, those proposing centering prayer seem to take it as a The Retreat Director and the Contemplative / 181 method anyone might use any time, while John of the Cross says there is a time and there are signs when to begin and that you then never lay it aside. Of course, many today may be prepared for contemplation who simply have not known it and these books could help them. Anthony de Mello, S.J., Sadhana: A Way to God, The Institute of Jesuit Sources, St. Louis, MO, 1978. The book bears a subtitle: Christian Exercises in Eastern Form. Ft. De Mello is an Indian Jesuit in whom east and west might meet. Exercises in awareness open one to a quiet that makes contemplation possible. Later sections take up prayer and fantasy, devotion. In a certain way, the book's structure seems backward in the light of John of the Cross' teaching. William Johnston, S.J., Silent Music, The Science of Meditation, Harper and Row, New York, 1974; The Inner Eye of Love, Mysticism and Religion, Harper and Row, New York, NY, 1978. The first of these surveys meditation (taken in its widest sense, as one says "Zen meditation") east and west. Ft. Johnston, with a degree in mystical theology and years of residence in Japan, is singularly qualified. Silent Music among other things, gives some reports on scientific ex-periments in the altered states of consciousness associated with meditation. Later sections deal with questions of healing and intimacy and their relation to meditation. The Inner Eye is an essay in the contemporary theology of mysticism, not limited to Christian mysticism. Thomas H. Green, S.J., When the Well Runs Dry, Prayer Beyond t.he Beginnings, Ave Maria Press, Notre Dame, IN, 1979. This recent book I met only after finishing this article. Ft. Green draws much from St. Theresa as well as John of the Cross. It should be very helpful for many. Invitation Come, Master Harper, Play my life, Gliding fingers down the dream strings Dancing 'long undreamed of paths Not bound by frame of wood or thought. Blend the patters and the pitches with the peace of new creation And the death of all I know, 'Til new sounds, unsounded still, reverberate through all ! am and i am played unto the end. Then touch my strings to stop them, And when the echoes fade, In this last silence Let the infinite variations of Your own theme begin. Sister Linda Karas, RSM Religious Consultation Center Dallas, PA 18612 When You Can't Pray: Removing Obstacles to Prayer Mary C. Coelho Mary Coelho is coordinator of the program in spiritual direction at the Center for Christian Spirituality; General Theological Seminary. She resides at 800 Riverside Drive, Apt. 7C; New York, NY 10032. For Christians, prayer is the route to the inner way, the treasure in the field. Yet many Christians find they can't pray. Feelings of anger, inadequacy, impatience--and perhaps abandonment--arise from our frustration in prayer. We cannot understand our frustration in the light of the promise that we are continually sought by God. If God seeks us and we try to seek God, what happens to frustrate a meeting? If the soul is naturally Christian, shouldn't the desire of our heart for communion with God issue naturally in the fulfill-ment of that desire? What goes awry? We know the path is arduous and the gate is narrow, but we doubt if we are even on the path. Merely delineating some of the obstacles to prayer can help us find our way on the early stages of the path. When we do this, we become less discouraged simply because identifying and recognizing the obstacles means we are aware bf the cause of our difficulties with prayer. We no longer project our frustration and failure into anger and disbelief while we remain immobile and unchanging. We can take responsibility for the obstacles and cooperate in their removal. Thus a process of identification of internal obstacles to prayer can be a source of help toward growth in prayer. Prayer is our response when we have found ourselves possessed and sought by God on some occasion in our life. Our beginning to seek God is difficult and tortured, yet it is one which we are irresistibly drawn to make. William Blake's words, "We are put on earth for a little space that we may learn to 182 When You Can't Pray / 183 bear the beams of love" strikingly state this fundamental invitation to human beings to respond to God. But we find it hard to be open to these beams of love. Part of the response of prayer is concerned with the changes necessary in order for us to become less resistant to and less afraid of the "beams of love." This quiet openness to change is related to the Christian tradition of the "prayer of the heart." Thomas Merton describes it as "a way of keeping oneself in the presence of God and of reality, rooted in one's inner truth.'" Merton's insistence on being rooted in one's inner truth shows that learning to bear the "beams of love" involves a deep form of self-knowledge. We have to be willing to face the negative as well as the positive elements which we find in our inner selves. The obstacles to prayer we are going to identify and describe here primarily revolve around failure in self-knowledge and the fear and resistance we often produce to obscure our inner depths. The beams of love which bear witness to the priority and initiative of God encourage us to face our resistance and frustration with hope. God is working in us at depths beyond our comprehension. We begin then with the trust that God's love is greater than our failure, however deep that may be. Paradoxically, it is the very activity of God's love in us which uncovers our resistances and invites us to acknowledge them. When we do that, the resistances begin to lose their power, Indeed the whole process is one of recognition of the obstacle, repentance, and purgation. The only justification for this apparently negative activity, which we so resist, is that we may more and more be available to the energies of love working in us. St. Augustine wrote, "We come to God by love and not by navigation." Isn't our intention to describe obstacles to prayer an attempt at navigation? Augustine gives priority to the love which is always drawing us rather than to the techniques of ndvigation which we wish to employ to bring us to our destination. We:may suspect that our struggles with the obstacles to prayer are only an attempt at Pelagian navigation and an attempt to control the whole adventure of prayer. But navigation can be of a cooperative nature and not the fixing of a forced course to a predetermined destination. What may look like navigation on our part is in reality dependent i)n the love of Goal already working in us. It is this very love which encourages us .to enter the struggle to be free to bear the beams of love. It is this very love which enables and en-courages us to be navigators in relation to the internal obstacles to prayer. The journey inward is not primarily accomplished by our own efforts: it is rather a double search. In prayer we seek God as our response to knowing that God seeks and loves us. We are invited to collaborate with the creative God who calls'us to b~ecome pilgrims in the land of our interior depths. We are ready now to look at some obstacles to prayer in some detail. These obstacles include our woundedness, our fear of darkness in ourselves, our Thomas Mert0n, Contemplative Prayer (New York, Herder and Herder, 1969), p. 24. 184 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/2 need to achieve, our lack of patience, our lack of gratitude, and our failure to trust our inner longing for God. Our Woundedness One reason for frustration in prayer, for our failure to collaborate with the love of God, is our woundedness. We feel rejected, unwanted, unloved. We believe that we have not been loved sufficiently in the past. This has been so painful an experience that we dare not risk accepting the vulnerability which love demands. As one Christian has written, "And because our need to be loved and to give love is so deep and central, to be denied this makes us angry beyond the conscious knowing, and an angry person consciously or un-consciously is tempted to destroy, to kill and often does. Most people in the world are deeply angry.''2 Our often unconscious devices for protecting us from further wounds tend to cut us off from God in spite of an avowed con-scious desire to be open to his love and a belief in his graciousness. Likewise anger, often deep and unconscious, can generate an energy which pervades our whole being and thus deflects our attention away f~om God's healing presence. A wounded person may find it actually impossible to allow himself or herself to be open and vulnerable. What are we to do in the face of such an impasse? Surely it is impossible to make ourselves suddenly open and vulner-able so that love can work more effectively in us and through us. Are there any ways of navigating in the face of our woundedness? Although we feel unloved and rejected, we will discover thereare some people who care about us, enjoy us and even love us. If we begin, however tentative-ly, to risk trusting this care and love, we will find the pressure to run away-- either physically, or in the myriad of small ways by which we shut off personal involvement--greatly diminished. When we begin consciously to admit our desire and need to be with certain people, we will also accept this desire and need and act on them. We do this in the face of knowing that the care and love offered by others will also be wounded and imperfect, and that we will un-doubtedly be hurt again. Reaching out to others in spite of our woundedness will often mean finding new friends or deepening our trust and availability to a spouse, an old friend, a priest, a teacher, or a spiritual director. Opening ourselves to the love of others is comparable, on a psychological level, to opening ourselves to God, who reveals himself as One who knows what it is to be wounded. Not only do we need to allow others to love us and care for us as we are, we also need to to do the same for ourselves, especially our wounded parts. As an area of woundedness within us is made conscious, we need to accept it, acknowledge it and let it be part of us. This involves a deep self-acceptance. Gordon Cosby, "The Invisible World," Faith at Work, March, 1976, p. 6. When You Can't Pray / 185 Sister Rachel Hosmer describes3 praying in a chapel where she felt secure, separated from noise and distraction in the building and separated from her own unhappiness and loneliness in a community. But she realized she did not want this separate, safe place. She writes, "From then on I began to realize that I had to go down to the roots of my own life, where lives a small, rebellious, treacherous, wounded, tear-stained child. I had to encounter her gently, lovingly, take her in my arms, comfort her, listen to her, share with her." Such recognition and gentle acceptance of our woundedness allows us to drop the barriers that protected our woundedness. These are the same pro-tective barriers that prevent our vulnerability in prayer. Accepting our woundedness means we can move closer to rootedness in our inner truth and that we can better live in the presence of God and reality. Fear of Darkness in Ourselves Another reason for disappointment in prayer related to Our woundedness is our fear of the darkness in ourselves. On encountering darkness in ourselves, we may have tried to deny its existence or distract ourselves from looking at it further. If we choose to avoid our own darkness we are also choosing to withdraw from any deep involvement with prayer. True prayer will not allow us either to deny our darknesses nor be seduced by distraction. We have no choice but to come back to the darkness if we are to learn to pray. And u~ually our darknesses are thrown into consciousness in such a way that we can't possibly avoid them anyway. By coming upon darkness in ourselves, I mean meeting deep anger, empti-ness, loneliness, guilt, fear, excessive pride, a sense of failure to live up to ideals, a recognition of helplessness before some desire or habit, a recognition of not truly living, or the sense of living a lie--to name a few! Closing off en-counter with these aspects of our personality will not be replaced by light, but by a gray world in which God is distant and detached.' Encounter with darkness in ourselves is an essential element of true prayer. It is part of the movement towards true light. Meeting darkness in ourselves is not a reason for failure in prayer. It is an early stage of prayer. It becomes an obstacle if we fail to acknowledge it or attempt to hide from it. Once an aspect of personal darkness has been seen and acknowledged, how can we navigate in relationship to it? We need to trust that through it and beyond it, new life will emerge inus. This trust is based on the faith that God is already working in us, calling us to wholeness. We need to trust that the darkness will lose its Power and that we will be sustained in our struggle with ~ Sr. Rachel Hosmer, New Principles for Christian Spirituality (Center for Christian Spirituality, General Theological Seminary, 175 Ninth Avenue, New York 10011), 13. 23. ' William J. Connolly, S.J. "Experiences of Darkness in Directed Retreats," REviEw RELIGIOUS VOI. 33 1974, p. 611. 186 / Review.for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/2 it. Nor dare we give the excuse that it is inappropriate to concentrate on gloomy things. Conscious work with darkness in ourselves may necessitate the finding of professional help because the obstacle to prayer may have deep roots in our character. A basic confidence in facing darkness is found in the paschal rhythm of the Christian life, the passage from death to life in Christ and our entry into that drama places all our struggles in a wider and healing context. Conscious encounter with darkness can be the beginning of the dissolution of the power of ~hat darkness, although it is hard to believe that could be true on first encounter with it. We realize it has been a dominant, determining force in our lives and we feel caught, defeated, and totally determined .by it. But the initial step of consciousness of the darkness is of critical importance. We were previously unaware of the darkness and it held sway in our lives free-ly and unbeknownst to us. By acknowledging and facing the guilt, the fear or the loneliness, the darkness no longer has an unchallenged freedom to operate in our lives. And as we face the darkness, we find that ,the king has no clothes." There is a gradual shift in our self understanding which involves the growth and emergence of new life and wholeness. However painful and slow this may be, the facing of our darkness is an essential task. To avoid darkness is to do so at the price of living in shallowness and unreality. Willingness to face and deal with darkness, instead of denying it and hiding it, is one of the clearest indications that our own reali-ty, rather than an idealized concept of ourselves, has entered into the dialogue to which God is always calling us. Usually the busy round of normal daily demands prevents buried parts of ourselves from becoming conscious. In fact we often consciously and ~uncon-sciously pattern our lives precisely to hide from the truth about ourselves and to maintain a false, idealized image that we have carefully constructed. Often a weekend retreat or a longer period of silence is the occasion of a sudden breaking of this image, when an aspect of darkness is allowed to come to the surface. For this reason, retreats and other ways of breaking tlie daily patt.ern of demands, are essential if we are to move beyond disappointment in prayer. Need to Achieve Many of us have a high need to achieve. A person with a high need to achieve as a wiry of earning identity and self-esteem will try to make prayer an achievement. But he will inevitably be disappointed when trying to turn prayer into a performance. This is because a great deal of achievement in our culture depends on a willful manipulation of life by our conscious ~elves whereas prayer involves an open availability to life and a desire not to do our ego-will but the will of God. The failure of attempts to pray by sheer effort is.a crucial event for the would-be "achiever" which must be recognized and faced honestly. We approach prayer with the same attitudes with which we approach the Whbn You Can "t Pray /A 87 rest of life.~ We aren't different people when we pray, although we would like to think otherwise. Many of the carefully acquired manipulative skills we have learned to earn a place in life, to be "successful," in reality impede our open-ness to the totality of life as it is. The methods of consulting experts, strenuously learning the latest or oldest method of meditation or prayer, reading all the books, while not unimportant, will not "work" if the informa-tion is applied in a willful, controlling, achievement-oriented way. How does the achiever who has failed at praying continue from the point of his failure? God's hiddenness to him could drive him to ask hard questions and then to abandon his achieving ways, since they don't work anyway! Our own aggressiveness and desire to control and manipulate are systematically humiliated as we begin to face the realization that what matters most in life is not at the service of our achieving devices. The very frustration and fail~re are teaching us to learn and try other modes of being and to undermine our view of life as being validated only by achievement. What aspects of the human being are more receptive to God's love? Learn-ing to listen, to hear, to be passive and receptive, to wait and be patient, to trust intuition, these are qualities most often associated with the feminine side of our life. It takes a !ong time for both male and female achievers to learn and to trusi these qualities of our being. Yet it is through the receptive, feminine side of life that we can learn to pray and know God. Unfortunately it often seems to take an occasion of helplessness to recognize the importance of the so-called feminine side of our personality. This occasion may be serious ill-ness, admission Of alcoholism, death of a beloved person, loss of work or the dissolution of an important intimate relationship. . The feminine aspects of personality, however, can be slowly nourished by a va.riety of means. For example by meditative listening to scripture we learn to let scripture address us personally. This depends on a receptive openness find a capacity to listen. Listening to dreams, which come to us from another world beyond our control, can be of essential importance in a growing con-sciousness of the restrictedness and narrowness of the confines of the con-scious, achieving personality. In the give and take of friendship or in marriage we slowly learn to let go of our willful ordering of the other person's life and gradually accept the unique-nes~ and otherness of the friend or spouse with their mixture of strengths and weaknesses, beauty.and ugliness. Participation in a small group, as a "house church," prayer group, therapy group or group for spiritual direction, gradually instructs us in the capacity to relate to life in nonachieving ways. A group has a life of its own, so that living and sharing in its life invites us to participate in a larger life outside ~ William J. Connolly S.J. "Disappointment in Prayer: Prelude to Growth?" REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Vol. 32, 1973, p. 557. "188 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/2 our narrowly limited consciouness. Some typesof movement and dance, painting, walks in nature are means for some people to learn to drop their aggressive and manipulative ways. All of these may lead us to a humility before life which calls us to live more prayer-fully in it. Lack of Personal Freedom We have just described the "need to achieve" as a pattern of behavior that may cause disappointment in prayer. This is a specific example of a larger problem that blocks our prayer. We are disappointed in prayer because we obstinately cling to false or narrow and unexamined conscious goals, opin-ions, atntudes and feelings. We all do this to some degree and we need to learn to detect the ways in which we unconsciously narrow our lives. William Con-nolly writes: "The person who is controlled by fear, by anger, by a fixed idea of his or her futur.e, finds himself or herself incapable of more than superficial prayer. When a person begins to be freed of that control, he becomes capable of deeper prayer.''6 The detection and unearth.ing of our narrow and unexamined conscious goals and opinions, attitudes and feelings is a slow and difficult process. We are so wedded to them and convinced of their correctness, or so take them for granted, that they are not even a subject of our consideration. How then can we detect them? Often the truth we most need to ponder is initially unattrac-tive. We resist it. It bothers us and even repels us. This is a clue to'look again. The more there is at stake emotionally in some idea, proposal or change of the way of doing things, the more we can be sure it deserves our careful attention to detect the causes of our alarm. Or we may observe that we strongly dislike someone who never did us any harm. We should suspect they have qualities and patterns of being that we also have, but have rejected in ourselves, losing conscious awareness of them. But we can gradually become aware of some of the constrictions in our personality and our ways of being so that we are more available to the divine freedom. As we consciously acknowledge these con-strictions we are freer to act out of love and caring. God does not force our behavior, but a personality that is more self-accepting and freer is more available to act out of God's love. A person with a raw, unguarded immediacy to God and to life is moving towards freedom to live and love. Lack of Patience Another reason for disappointment in prayer may be an unwillingness to be patient with ourselves and with the process of learning to pray. Advice to "be patient" sounds like something you sa.y in the absence of any more specific help. It is especially difficult for Americans who believe, although William J. Connolly S.J. "Freedom and Prayer in Directed Retreats," REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, Vol. 32, 1973, p. 1359. When You Can't Pray with diminishing confidence, that, with some effort, discipline and extra work, we can get what we want. I hate to write it, American that I am, and I have learned it the hard way, but I believe that an unwillingness to wait and to be patient is a reason for disappointment in prayer. It is honest, sound advice. The necessity to be patient and wait does not mean that we become passive and listless. Nor does it mean that we are to be patient about all aspects of life. If the landlord doesn't give you heat, you should not be patient about that. But in relation to prayer, advice to be patient is an honest recognition that the transformation of our person by grace toward wholeness is a slow process. The education and training. (ascesis) of our person to be available to God's love is slow. Even the sudden gifts of moments of grace do not preclude the slow, gradual process of sanctification. Time, clocktime, is notof the essence. There are no shortcuts or tricks in the life of prayer. When Friedrich yon Hugel was eighteen, he was advised by the Dominican priest, Raymond Hocking "You want to grow in virtue, to serve God, to love Christ? Well you will grow in and attain these things if you will make them a slow and sure, and utterly real, mountainstep plod and ascent, willing to have to camp for week.s in spiritual desolation, darkness and emptiness at different ~tages in your march and growth. All demand for constant light, all attempt at eliminating or minimizing the cross and trial, is so much folly or puerile trifling.''7 Lack of Gratitude At times our feeling of disappointment in prayer may resultfrom a failure to celebrate and be grateful for the grace and gifts and strength we do,receive in our daily lives and in prayer. Unfortunately it seems easier to focus on our struggles and to suffer than ~to celebrate and enjoy changes in the quality.of our life or that of our neighor. Small changes of heart, a sense of being reconverted, and simple acts of love seem fragile and transient in the face of major human dislocations. We need to sing more, if we sing, or dance more, if we dance, in order to sustain our celebration of life. We need the ability to be carefree, to disregard appearances, to relax and laugh at the world and ourselves. These are all ~ways of being grateful and saying "yes" to life. Douglas Steere often says in his retreats t.hat he doesn't know. of a better way to enter prayer than through gratitude. Lack of Obedience in Small Things We proudly look for some major insight or a profound illumination or a clear call to an exciting, life-transforming project. However much to be treasured; such desires are often more a need of the ego than a readiness to Bernard Hollard, ed., Selected Letters ofFriedrich von Hugel (London, Dent, 1927), p. 266. 190 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/2 allow such experiences to transform and shape our lives. It' is "the slow mountainstep plod" that does transform us. Failure to carry out small acts of love and caring and to integrate in our lives insights we have received, are what can effectively block us. "It is clearly absurd to be pining for some grand revelation of God's will while we are refusing to attend to this or that small beginning of a revelation that is already unmistakably before us. It may only be 'something telling us' as we say, that I am not using my money as I thought--not holding it in steward-ship. It may be a recurrent doubt about the strict honesty of some habitual practice. It may be an uncomfortable feeling about a certain indulgence I have been allowing myself.''8 We can learn to celebrate and savor small acts of devotion and to do them with joy. Unwillingness to Be a Beginner Another obstacle may be the unwillingness to be a beginner in prayer and meditation. We need to be perfectly content to be a beginner, to experience ourselves as one who has little or no capacity to pray and has a desperate need to learn the bare rudiments. This may be in spite of long involvement in the Church, and in spite of highly developed capacities and talents in other areas. Those who think they know from the beginning will never in fact come to know anything. In a way we will never be anythng else but beginners all of our life. Our ego consciousness is always a beginner in relation to God because itis not out of its ways of relating to life that we know God. o Failure to Trust Our Inner Longing for God Learning to pray depends on an inner knowledge that it is worthwhile. Otherwise our attempts to pray will be experienced as too laborious and dif-ficult. The inner knowledge of our need to pray may be within us, but we are listening to other voices, particularly the voices of a secular culture. Clamor-ing voices within and without drown out our desire to know God and we organize our lives around the other demands. By comparison to the seeming importance of the other demands our desire to pray seems too tenuous, un-proven- simply not worth it. So we need to learn to trust and live out of our deepest inner desire. Sometimes to avoid trusting experiences of the heart, we demand a rational, causal explanation by some authority in society. This serves to make the claim of these experiences more manageable, in our control. But Pascal wrote that the heart may have reasons that the mind knows not of. A rational explanation serves to deny the uniqueness of our spiritual life and allows us to shed that uniqueness along with our particular personal history, our gifts and our responsibilities. Complete rational knowledge is possible only of things, John Baillie, The Idea of Revelation in Recent Thought (New York, Columbia University Press, 1956). When You Can't Pray / 191 not persons.9 We must allow ourselves the fact of not totally understanding our experiences and to live and love and affirm life in the midst of our not-understanding. We are called to fall in love with life, not just to try to under-stand it. Brother Roger, founder of the Taize community, speaks to the problem of our demand to understand. He writes "A set, juridical mentality was a feature of ancient Rome, and it was handed down to all of Western Christianity. It left us ill-prepared for contemplation, the culmination of the inner life. In contrast, Eastern Christianity is still today rich in lives centered on just this reality. When the mind is less concerned with defining how we know God and what we know of him, there is more room available in which to adore him.'''° A friend once described in careful and loving detail the experiences and events of a week-long retreat. The week had been profoundly important to him and included a number of unexpected, new experiences. It involved feel-ing called and directed to seek out specific individuals particularly needing love and attention. After the retreat he said he spent two years trying to ex-plain or discredit the experiences and to find descriptions of comparable events in the Bible or elsewhere in religious literature. "Experiences had to be manageable and understandable." But finally by telling the story of the retreat, sparing no detail, he was letting the experie.nces speak for themselves, not finally understood but accepted and celebrated for their life-transforming quality. He came to trust his own inner knowledge of the peculiar importance of the retreat experiences. It is common for people to have a'sense of restlessness and an awareness from past experiences of God or from knowledge of scripture, that their pres-ent way of living narrows life unhecessarily. The ego must give consent to this inner knowledge if the soul is to grow and bloom by God's grace. Conclusion A number of the Obstacles to prayer circle around our proclivity to see our-selves as a static, firmly established, already, attained ego-self that needs only to be perfected. Facing a number of the, obstacles just described involves recognizing, as Thomas Merton writes," that we are a "nothing," a "possibility'i in which the gift of creative freedom can realize itself by its response to the free gift of love and grace. We are invited to accept our "potentiality," Merton continues, as a gift and a commission, as a trust to be used--as a "talent" in the language of the parables. It is through prayer and the profound transformation of personality that it involves that our "possibility" may become a living reality. " Erich Fromm, "Man ls Not a Thing," Saturday Review of Literature, March 16, 1957, p. 10. ,o Br. Roger Schutz, Living Today for God (Mowbrays, Oxford, England), "Life in Ourselves," p. 18. " Thomas Merton, "The Spiritual Father in the Desert Tradition," Cistercian Studies Ill, 4, 1968, pp. 13, 14. Suffering with the Humble Christ in Religious Life Martin R. Tripole, S.J. Father Tripole is Assistant Professor of Theology at St. Joseph's University, and iives in the Jesuit Community there, City Ave. at 54th St.; Philadelphia, PA,19131. Is there a place for suffering in religious life? Are people who vow themselves to poverty, chastity, and obedience really supposed to suffer as part of their religious commitment.? Before that question can be answered, it would first be necessary to investi-gate the place for suffering in Christian living as a whole; for religious life is a specification within the larger context. Suffering in Christian Living There was a time when it was commonly thought that Christians were sup-posed to suffer. One recalls the stereotyped remark supposedly made to the poor and underprivileged during the Industrial and post-Industrial Era: God wants you to be poor, he meets you in your suffering; accept your lot as an expression of love and place your sights on the kingdom of heaven. We all know Marx for his assessmefit of religion as the drug that pacifies the lot of the miserable. '~ In pre-Vatican II days, much of this kind Of thinking seemed still to be around. We were supposed to suffer because Jesus suffered; we were supposed to have it hard because Jesus had it hard. Aptly associated with that theology of suffering was the "work ethic" that made hard work a value just because it was hard. If we suffered from working hard, that was good because a good American was supposed to suffer from working hard. The post-Vatican II era seemed different--most notably among the 192 Suffering With the Humble Christ / 193 young. I can still recall fellow Jesuit scholastics in the late '60's discerning what we considered to be a new awareness of the implications of Jesus' resur-rection: had he not been raised from the dead, and should we not therefore share in his glory and the joy of his resurrection? The Church had dwelt too long on the suffering of Christ, we concluded. The emphasis should rather be placed on the resurrected Christ'. We had been redeemed, had we not? Why, then, should we dwell upon. suffering? It was time to show forth the new redemptive life won for us by the risen Christ. Along with this type of thinking went what seemed to be its logical conse-quence: the cult of the individual, the affirmation of the"I." It was Iwho had been redeemed. Jesus died so that I might be free and find fulfillment in my life. Things were of value insofar as they brought me personal fulfillment; they were a disvalue if they cramped my style. The concept of obedience needed to be changed: to be obedient now meant, first of all, to be true to myself and to my natural drive for fulfillment. That meant I had a primary obligation to realize my human potential. To deny myself was to frustrate my personal, human growth and to that extent was actually sinful. Superiors could no longer deny my basic human rights without violating the natural law. Since to destroy oneself is never permissible, so was it deemed unacceptable for a superior ever to ask me to go against my need to be fulfilled. Obedience, therefore, had to mean primarily obedience to myself and my natural drive for personal fulfillment, and only secondarily response to the wishes of anotherwand this only when his wishes were compatible with my goals. Since the resurrection of Christ meant birth to a new life, a life of personal fulfillment in God, God was now to be found in my drive to be fulfilled. Under these circumstances, suffering becomes an evil because it thwarts that drive. It is therefore not .'.6.nly to be avoided, but also to be u~rooted from life. Thus, to inflict suffering or to ask someone to do something that caused suf-fering became a basically unchristian act. The role of su.'ffering had been suitably removed from Christian piety. It had been replaced by the right to fulfillment in life. Such was a common theology not a few, years ago. The fact is, however, that the whole matter of the relationship of suffering to Christian living and the place of suffering in religious life must be reexamined and more carefully analyzed. Because I am a Jesuit, and my experience and training allow me to speak of religious life only as a Jesuit, I shall confin~ my examination of the .character of religious living to a discussio~ of the spirituality of St. Ignatius. However, since the basic principles of religious living seem common to most forms of religious life, and sinc+ Ignatian spirituality has had wide influence in religious thought beyond the lives of Jesuits, such an approach will be of in-terest to many religious today. I shall, therefore, first briefly examine the more fundamental question of the nature of Christian living in general, and then see religious life as understood by St. Ignatius as a specification within that larger area. 194 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/2 Role of Suffering in Jesus' Teaching We can posit the existence of at least two levels of pr?clamation in the New Testament: that of Jesus and that of the first generation of Christians. Though' exegetes tell us there is never a time when the message of Christ is not filtered to us through the eyes of the early Church, this does not rule out the possibility of discerning the original proclamation of Jesus. Indeed, a fuller study of the whole matter reveals the early Church always understood its func-tion to develop, at the same time as it remained faithful to the original procla-mation of the message of Jesus. The Church also related the message of Jesus to its own problems and needs, much as the Church continues to do today. The upshot of all this is that we are able to discern a theology of suffering in the Scriptures that is not only expanded upon by the early Church but is actually based on the teaching of Jesus himself. One of the clearest places where Jesus' theology of suffering is presented is in his three predictions of his passion and death found in each of the Synop-tics. There Jesus makes it clear that his role as messiah, in contradistinction to what the Jews had expected, was to suffer and die and rise from the dead. Jesus tells his disciples he has to suffer (Mk 8:31). The character of this suffer-ing is carefully delineated: it involves not only sheer physical (Mk 10:34), but also psychological suffering (Mk 8:31; see 14:34-36); moreover, it is manifested in a special way in his confrontation with leading spokesmen of his community, "the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes" (Mk 8:31) over the law of God, God's will for his people, the dispensation of his revelation to mankind, the road to salvation, the character of true discipleship of the Lord. In the long run, the more significant form of suffering in Christ's life was not simply endurance of physical paine but of political and theological oppositiofl to the revelation of God's will. The attacks of the Jewish leaders were not only attempts to thwart God's will, but also to stymie the freedom which would find its highest form in man's acceptance of Jesus' good news. Ultimately, therefore, it was in the area of the freedom of God's will toward man and the freedom of man to respond to God that the Jews were at odds with Jesus. His pain was that the Jewish leaders were not open to being free, but actually preferred to be enslaved--to themselves, to their own limited standards and values, to their desires to dominate and control their li~,es and the lives of the other members of the Jewish community. The teaching of the Beatitudes, a highpoint in Jesus' proclamation delineating the kind of lives his disciples will lead and the experiences they will undergo as his disciples, encapsulates the heart of Jesus' teaching on suffer-ing. There he states that the dis.ciple will surely suffer for dedicating himself to the principles for which Jesus stands (Mt 5:10). Most important for our later discussion is the fact that Jesus indicates that hisdisciples should be happy when being insulted and persecuted for following him (v. 11), forit is then that God takes his place at the side of the disciple (v. 9) and fhe disciple finds his place in God's kingdom (v. 10). Here again, Jesus makes it clear that anyone Suffering With the Humble Christ / 195 who makes the commitment to him and his teaching will find himself in oppo-sition to the world and its standards. In Jesus' disciples, the historical reenact-men~ of the suffering and death of Christ must take place before they can share in God's glory (vv. 9, 12). Suffering as Seen in the Early Church Paul's conception of a theology of suffering is rooted in that of Jesus. It is because Jesus suffered and died that Christians, as imitators of Christ, must also suffer and die. The Christian chooses to suffer with Christ so as to be attached and closely identified with Jesus. The basis for this is love for Jesus as the Son of God and Lord, but closely identified with this basis is the fact that Jesus suffered and died so that we might be free from the power of siffand death. Thus, the soteriological is never separated from the ontological for Paul. The importance of suffering with Christ also follows from the fact that only then can we share in his resurrection--not only after biological death, but even during our lives within history. For Paul, it is necessary to enter into the historical process contained within Jesus' own life, death, and resurrection: to suffer and die for the sake of others, so that they might have life. This translates into a life of service of others, even to the point of renouncing one's life totally for the sake of others. The concrete social and political implications of this insight were obvious to Paul: life is one of service through the ministry of spreading the good news, promoting reconciliation between man and God, opposing correctives or compromises to God's teaching, and responding to the temporal needs of others, such as caring for thee poor. One who proclaimed and lived by the teaching of Christ must expect, according to Paul, to come into conflict with worldly structures and be persecuted by them (2 Tm 3:12). It is by enduring in the midst of that conflict that one wins the right to inherit eternal glory (2 Co 4:17). To follow Christ means to have renounced the world and all that it stands for in opposition to Christ's teachings (Ga 5:24). That opposition means "constantly" to be "delivered to death for Jesus' sake, so that the life of Jesus may be revealed in our mortal flesh" (2 Co 4:11). Paul delivered himself to that death and life with joy (Col 1:24). It is in the context of his ministry of the gospel that Paul occasionally tells us of the physical, psychological and social forms of suffering he had to undergo: We are fools on Christ's account. Ah, but in Christ you are wise: We are the weak ones, you the strong! They honor you, while they sneer at us: Up to this very hour we go hungry and thirsty, poorly clad, roughly treated, wandering about homeless. We work hard at manual labor. When we are insulted we respond with a blessing. Persecution comes our way; we bear it patiently. We are slandered, and we try conciliation. We have become the world's refuse, the scum of all; that is the present state of affairs (l Co 4:10-13). On the contrary, in all that we do we strive to present ourselves as ministers of God, acting with patient endurance amid trials, difficulties, distresses, beatings, ira- 196 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/2 prisonments, and riots; as men familiar with hard work, sleepless nights, and fastings; conducting themselves with innocence, knowledge, and patience, in the Holy Spirit, in sincere love; as men with the message of truth and the power of God; wielding the weapons of righteousness with the right hand and left, whether honored or dishonored, spoken of well or ill. We are called imposters, yet we are truthful; nobodies who in fact are well-known; dead; sorrowful, though we are always rejoicing; poor, yet we enrich many. We seem to have nothing, yet every/thing is ours (2 Co 6:4-10). The writings of Peter and John also emphasize the importance of our suf-fering. with Christ. For Peter, suffering with Christ is cause for rejoicing. We are "happy" to be "insulted for the sake of Christ, for then God's Spirit in its glory has come to rest" on us (1 P 4:13-14). For John, Christian living in-volves the willingness to "lay down our lives for our brothers" in imitation of Christ who "laid down his life for us" (1 Jn 3:16). One who is a follower of Christ will experience his discipleship in his confrontation with the values of the world. He will "suffer in the world" (Jn 16:33) and be hated and rejected by the world (15:18-19), but he will find "courage" in that Christ has "over-come the world" (16:33). Suffering in the Spirituality of St. Ignatius The spirituality of St. Ignatius is remarkably biblical. Central to his thought is a theology of.suffering rooted in that of Jesus and the spirituality of the early Church, especially that of St. Paul. According to Ignatius, there was only one purpose in life: to dispose oneself completely to the praise and service of God: "Man is created to praise, reverence, and serve God our Lord, and by this means to save his soul.'" What that immediately implied for Ignatius was the uproi~ting and outlawing from one's life of any affection which would interfere with that praise and ser-vice. To be so disposed means applying to oneself what is commonly known as Ignatius' principle of indifference, whereby one prefers nothing in life except insofar as it contributes to the theocentric orientation of one's total being. Consequently as far as we are concerned, we should not prefer health to sickness, riches to poverty, honor to dishonor, a long life to a short life. [but only] what is more conducive to the end for which we were created (SE 23). That indifference in the service of God our Lord becomes more concretely defined by the beginning of the Second Week of the Exercises as acceding to the call of Christ to serve the Father in the establishment of his kingdom: "It is my will to conquer the whole world and all my enemies, and then to enter into the glory of my Father" (SE 95). Since the exercitant has by now uprooted any affection that would interfere with the proper disposition of his life, he is able to perceive the value of this goal, and is ready to respond. The response is the acceptance of t~e call to serve. But how precisely is the ' First Principle and Foundation in The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius, tr. Louis J. Puhl, S.J. (Westminster, MD: Newman, 1951), n. 23. Hereafter SE and paragraph number. Suffering With the Humble Christ / 197 exercitant to serve? Ignatius provides no preconceived or metaphysical prin-ciples to determine the modus agendi. The sole norm is the imitation of Christ by sharing in the root experiences undergone by Christ in his public ministry. Imitation of Christ thus meanS, as it did for St. Paul, an identification with the person of Christ in his sufferings and death, so as eventually to share in his glory. The identification is never really with the glorified Christ except as the one who attains his glory through suffering. Christ tells the exercitant that "whoever wishes to join me in this enterprise must be willing to labor with me, that by following me in suffering, he may follow me in glory" (SE 95; italics added). The precise character of that suffering is two-fold: negatively, it means overcoming "sensuality and carnal and worldly love" in one's affective life; positively, it means "'bearing all wrongs and all abuses'and all poverty, both actual andspiritual"--provided there is no jeopardy to one's spirit of in-difference, i.e., only if the "Eternal Lord" desires this because it will con-tribute to his "greater service and praise" (SE 98). Ignatius is relentless in his attempts to drive home the idea that once the individual has become indifferent, service of Christ, though it remains the rubric under which all action is undertaken for the praise and glory of God~ at-tains its special character in the identification with Christ in suffering the blows of the human condition. With Christ as his standard-bearer, the exerci-tant is sent on a mission "throughout the whole world to spread His sacred doctrine." But this is made possible only by desiring "insults and contempt" (SE. 146) and by "bearing insults and wrongs" because one is thereby able to "imitate him [Christ] better" (SE 147). Indifference, once it becomes perfect, no longer means to be absolutely indifferent, but rather to be one with the suf-fering Christ. The highest class of men, according to Ignatius, "seek only to will and not will as God our Lord inspires them" (SE 155). They are urged to accept the highest form of spirituality, which for Ignatius means the "third kind of humility,." the humility which is most distinctive of his spirituality and gives it its noblest quality: This is the most perfect kind of humility. It consists in this. If we suppose the first and second kind attained, then whenever the praise and glory of God would be equally served, I desire and choose poverty with Christ poor, rather than riches, in order to im-itate and be in reality more like Christ our Lord; I choose insults with Christ loaded with them, rather than honors," I desire to be accounted as worthless and a fool for Christ, rather than to be esteemed as wise and prudent in this world. So Christ was treated before me (SE 167; italics added). The exercitant is instructed to beg our Lord to deign to choose him for this third kind of humility, which is higher and better, that he may the more imitate andserve him, provided equal praise and service be given to the Divine Majesty (SE 168; italics added). Not all exercitants would be expected to be able to cope with this third kind of humility, and so it is up to the retreat director to discern how far to go with the retreatant. But the Jesuit novice was normally to undergo a thirty-day 198 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/2 experience of the Spiritual Exercises with this third kind of humility as the in-tended summit of his new spiritual life. Ideally he is to accept this humility as his own, though if he be not yet able to do so, it becomes at least the end-goal and guiding principle of his life as a Jesuit. Obstacles to this goal are to be fought and overcome, it being pointedly noted that the exercitant's progress in the spiritual life will be in direct "proportion to his surrender of self-love and of his own will and interests" (SE 189). These same principles recur in the General Examen and its Declarations regarding standards for admission to the Society of Jesus. When the candidate embarks on religious life as a Jesuit, he is 1~o acquire a "deliberate determina-tion to live and die in the Lord with and in this Society of Jesus," and is to be "determined to abandon the world and to follow the counsels,of Christ our Lord.''2 This means to abandon "whatever he had in the world" dear to him out of "merely natural affection," and to replace it with a life based a new principle: "He who does not hate his father and mother and even his own life, cannot be my disciple" (Lk 14:26). Consequently, he is to live "as one who is dead to the world and to self-love/arkd who lives only for~ Christ our Lord" (GE 61). One of his probationary experiences is to be involved in "tests of humility and abnegation of oneself through the performance of lowly and humble tasks, such as working in the kitchen, cleaning the house, and all the rest of these services." (GE 83). Another is that he should go begging from door .to door for three days so that, "contrary to common human opinion, they [scholastics] may be able in God's service and praise to humiliate themselves more and more and make greater spiritual progress, giving glory to his Divine Majesty" (GE 82). The candidate must also be "willing to have all his errors and defects.r~anifested to his superiors." (GE 63). Ignatius urges the scholastic constantly to accept exercises for obtaining humility: toward the cook (GE 85), subordinate officials (GE 87), spiritual superiors as well as physicians and infirmarians (GE 89), in the performance of penances for his "errors and negligences" (GE 90, 98), in the complete manifestation of his conscience to the superior (GE 93). In a section of the General Examen where he approaches most completely the lofty ideals contained in this third kind of humility and a th'eology of suf-fering strongly reminiscent of that of Jesus and of St. Paul, Ignatius insists that it be made clear to the candidate for the Society of Jesus that he strive "to abhor in its totality and not in part whatever the world loves and embraces, and to accept and desire with all possible energy whatever Christ our Lord has loved and embraced." This desire to be one with Christ is to lead candidates to the desire to "clothe themselves with the same clothing and uniform of their Lord." This means that if it would better serve God, and not be an occasion of 2 "The General Examen and Its Declarations" (50-51), in St. Ignatius of Loyola, The Constitu-tions of the Society of Jesus, tr. with commentary by George E. Ganss, S.J. (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1970). Hereafter GE and paragraph number. Suffering With the Humble Christ / 199 sin to anyone, "they would wish to suffer injuries, false accusations, affronts, and to be held and esteemed as fools. -3 Here above all they come to "resem-ble and imitate" Christ and "follow him" as "the way which leads men to life" (GE 101). Should the candidate be naturally repelled by such thoughts, Ignatius urges that he be questioned as to whether or not he is determined and ready to accept and suffer with patience., any such injuries, mockeries, and affronts entailed by the wearing of this uniform of Christ our Lord, and any other affronts offered him, whether by someone inside the house or the Society (where he desires to obey, be humiliated, and gain eternal life) or outside it by any persons what-soever on earth, while returning them not evil for evil but good for evil (GE 102; italics added): Ignatius again argues that this kind of humility will be better attained if the examinee should "seek in our Lord his greater abnegation and continual mortification in all things possible" (GE 103). According to Joseph de Guibert, S.J., these, last citations contain the "characteristic stamp of Ignatius' personality," the "true key to the conduct" of Ignatius toward his followers, and the "interior meaning of all that follows in the Constitutions" of the Society of Jesus." Moreover, these passages bring 'to focus one of the central features of Ignatius' spirituality: his emphasis upon "the poverty and humiliations of the Savior" (deG 136). T.hese passages rein-force the core elements of Ignatius' SpiritualExercises where, according to de Guibert, one finds the "counterpart" of the same kind of emphasis upon "abnegations" which Ignatius fostered "in the training of his followers" because of his "profound conviction that in this abnegation is found the decisive point, the central position which is to be held absolutely in the field of battle for souls and for conquering the summits of sanctity" (deG 137). Suffering in Religious Life Today Religious life, at least as understood by Ignatius, is therefore steeped in a theology of suffering in the pursuit of humility, based, not on any speculative principles that would justify this pursuit (few, indeed, can be found), but on the "principle of union and companionship with the suffering Christ. The union is achieved most of all, according to Ignatius, by imitating Christ in ac-cepting humiliations so as to become one with Christ in his humility. The beloved wishes to be as closely as possible identified with the lover. Since Jesus js he who suffered out of love for us, we wish to return that love by suffering with him out of love for him. As we have seen, theological if not mystical j'ustification for this spirituality can be found in the Gospel as well as in Paul's J See Mt 5:11; 1 Co 4:1~-13 and 2 Co 6:4-10, cited above. ¯ Joseph de Guibert, S.J., The Jesuits: Their Spiritual Doctrine and Practice, tr. William J. Young, S.J. (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1972), p. 142. Hereafter deG and page numbers. 200 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/2 insight thai it is only if we share in Christ's suffering that we shall share in his resurrection. It seems to me, therefore, that if we would retain the true spirit of religious life as this is given expression under the inspiration of Ignatius and others like him, and reinforce the basic insights of the scriptures, we must revitalize our Christian perspective on suffering with the humiliated and humble Chrisi in our contemporary experience of religious life. Permit me to reminisce a bit. As I recall, the above theology of suffering was very strongly advocated when I was in the novitiate (1958-1960), but with some shortcomings in its exercise. A constant danger in religious life is that we preach one theology and practice another. I was able to discern, even as a novice, the gap between our theology and practice. Our theology of suffering encouraged, as the high point of Jesuit living, that we find meaning and hap-piness in sharing in the insults and humiliations of Christ; yet whenever we received these humiliations, we took offense. Early on, the novice begins to conclude'that this gap is acceptable as built into religious life, that the theology of suffering is meantto be a rhetorical, formalistic kind of spirituali-ty, accepted as an ideology not actually to be implemented. A community that thinks and lives this way is bound to have a profound effect upon the developing religious life of the individual, for, to some extent, the individual is always necessarily a reflection of his environment. If the indi-vidual religious dwells in an environment which lives by the theology of suffer-ing with the humble Christ, the individual is induced to find meaning in that theology also; if the environment does not implement this theology of suffer-ing, it is extremely difficult, even for the most well-intentioned individual, to make that theology an integral part of his religious life. Or again: if every religious takes to heart Ignatius' words to accept !nsults and humiliations as the call of Christ to share in his program of spiritual renewal; the individual religious, when these are cast at him (as they surely will be), sees Christ calling him in them, and is able to rise above a natural human response to them, and adopt a truly Christ-centered form of spirituality in relation to them. But when the general form of response is to feel vilified whenever one's personal worth or honor has been attacked, the power of any one individual truly to im-itate the humble Christ is extremely limited. The end result is that religious life seriously runs the risk of self-deception and/or hypocrisy. The grace of voca-tion that comes to the individual through the community will simply not be, there, and we are left to mouth empty words of piety. So often it occurs in religious life that we inadvertently offend others. We unintentionally fail to give our fellow religious the attention they deserve. How often we find that they have taken offense and respond in a coarse and unfriendly way. What does it all mean? Where does this fit into a theology of suffering with the humble Christ? How can this reflect the application of Ignatius' spirituality of identification with Christ? So often it seems that the application is beyond our capacity. And yet that would not so often be the Suffering With the Humble Christ / 201 case if we worked at this matter together with dedication and with the awareness that it is only in this way that we justify our existence as members of a Jesuit religious community. ' One of the best ways of correcting this spirituality-practice gap would be achieved by making a decisive effort to return to Ignatius' theology of suffer-ing with the humble Christ and to the inculcation of his teachings in early Jesuit living. One wonders, however, if this is feasible today when so much emphasis is placed upon the importance of other goals. Are we not in danger of emphasizing praxis when we have not yet instilled theoria? Can, for instance, a life of social apostolic activity seriously be imbued with the prin-ciples of Ignatius when so much of the novice's life is devoted to social action? I do not mean to undercut the importance of social action, nor am I unaware of the fact that Ignatius wished the novice to be tested by experience in apostolic activity. But St. Paul recognized the fact that apostolic activity, unless it be imbued with the spirit of the humble Christ, is of little conse-quence. And Ignatius just as surely recognized that.primacy must be given to exposing and educating the novices to the spirit of the humble Christ, instilling in them the desire to follow that spirit in their lives, if their apostolic action is to be anything more than pious humanism. In the long run, is it not really more important that the novice, in his two years in the novitiate, be imbued with the spirit of suffering with the suffering and resurrected Christ? For if he does not capture there the spirit and the importance it has in renovating his life as a Christian and as a religious, he is in danger of never discerning its meaning or importance later. He risks joining the ranks of ambitious, over-zealous and secular-minded religious, whose spirit is widespread in religious life today and who have never realized that grandeur is attained in Christianity through suf-fering with and for the humble Christ. Let me not be misunderstood. The theology of suffering with the humble and humiliated Christ has nothing in common with laissez-faire social think-ing. Neither is it simplistically identifiable with pacifism, or with passive acquiescence in all things as coming from above as pronouncements of the will of God. Evil is to be opposed, and this especially when it involves injustice, insensitivity, immoral decision-making that obfuscates the will of God or denigrates the dignity of the human person. One need only read Jesus' savage attack on the Pharisees in Mk 7 to see that this is so. Theology of suffering with the humble Christ recognizes in the conflicts of Christ a suffering for God and man so that the word of God not be defecated, so that the human per-son not be destroyed. The theology of suffering with the humble Christ cepts the theology of the Sermon on the Mount, a suffering "for holiness' sake," of being "persecuted" for one's convictions, of refusing to accom-modate the message of Christ to worldly standards and values wherever they are manifested. But a response of loving acceptance of personal hurt, of defeat is the response of the theology of suffering with the humble Christ. This is in imita- 202 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/2 tion of Christ who remained silent in the face ~of his own persecution by legitima.te but unscrupulous authorities. He humbly accepted the will of God where it clearly manifested itself to him. But if one unjustly treats a fellow human being, opposition must be voiced: the dignity of the human person is being assaulted. Sometimes an insult to my person may fall under the same rubric and should not be tolerated. A prudential judgment is necessary. If only we religious would exemplify to the Church at large the importance of this theology of suffering with the humble Christ, it might catch on as a way of lifeappropriate to Christian living. What a reformation that would make in the world: What a transformation in our society, and what a proclamation of the message of Christ and of the theology of the New Testament, which have made it so clear that it is only insofar as we die with Christ that we have a right to hope in being raised with him. The Cradle Home! Blessed be the Lord God of Israel who had brought them, like their forebears, safely back from Egypt. The door yi.elded to a strong arm, creaked open, sagging on its leather hinges. They entered, the Three, and stood training thei,r eyes to the darkness. A shaft of sunlight, slipping in behind them, picked out a cradle; its smooth wood gleamed golden. In three strides the man reached it, caressed it slowly with a strong brown hand. Quickly, on sturdy little legs, the Child stood beside him, curly dark head sharing the sunlight. Still near the door the Mother, intent, watching. "You never used it, Son." The man's voice held the faintest hint of sorrow. The Child put one dimpled hand on the cradle, the other caught at the man's fingers. Eyes deeper than the starred midnight sky lifted to the earnest face. "it is so smooth, Father," stroking a cross bar. "I saved it for all my poor little brothers and sisters. For me, a rougher wood." Sister Mary Luke, C.S.J. 14505 Madison Avenue Lakewood, Ohio 44107 The Problem Member in Community Desmond O'Donnell, O.M.I. Father O'Donnell, an Australian clinical psychologist, was recently appointed a general councilor in his congregation. His present address is General House OMl; C.P;9061 ; 00100 Roma-Aurelia, Italy. When scaffolding or supportive structures are removed from a build.ing, its fibre is tested and any weaknesses in it become obvious. Wisely or unwisely, many of the structures which surrounde~d religious life have been removed in recent years and we should not be surprised if its fibre is tested and its weaknesses become more obvious. But first let us not underestimate the fact that the building is still standing, even if it is showing the strain. And in some ways religious life as expressed in apostolic community is beginning to show signs of renewal and strengthening as it reaches out in concern for mission in many new ways. However, it is with one of the weaknesses that I am concern-ed in this a~.ticle. In my professional work and in my, everyday experience of men and women in the apostolic communities--especially tho,se in the middle years--I have noticed that there is a growing restlessness, not always due to problems within themselves, but due'to their inability to find reasonable harmony within community. It is not difficult to distinguish between those who are restless anyway both in their apostolic area and in their commufiity, from those who are happy and productive in their work but who ca

Issue 38.3 of the Review for Religious, 1979. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published bl-monthly (every two months), is edited in collaboration with faculty members of the Department of Theology of St Louis Umverslty The editorial offices are located at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. © 1979 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.: $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 May, 1979 Volume 38 Number 3 Correspondence with the editor and the associate editors, manuscripts and books for review should be sent to REVIEW FOtZ REL~C~OUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; Jesuit Community; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19131. "Out of print" issues and articles not re-issued as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 North Zeeb Road; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. Principles of Prayer Robert F. Morneau On February 22, 1979, Bishop Morneau was consecrated to serve as auxiliary bishop of the Green Bay Diocese, His latest article for our pages, "Spiritual Staying Power," appeared beginning p. 664 of the September, 1979 issue. He wrote: "'As of December 19th my writing career has been threatened." On that date he was appointed bishop-designate. Growth in all forms of relationships, be they with God or with one another, calls for an ongoing communication process. Prayer is one such process involving dialogue between God and the human person. In order to be meaningful that process must be grounded on certain principles de-scriptive of universal conditions, consequences and causes of meaningful prayer. This paper culls out several principles of prayer as articulated by various spiritual authors. These authors, experiencing prayer at different levels according to the uniqueness of their personality structures, share in written form some truths that provide an explication of prayer experiences in general. These truths when understood in context may well enlighten our own experiences or at least cause us to desire them as we journey to the Father. In so doing we can grow in our dialogical relationship with God. A three-step method will be used: 1) a statement of a principle of prayer; 2) a series of quotations from which the principle was drawn, or of quo-tations used to demonstrate the validity of the principle; and 3) a com-mentary developing some implications buried within the principle and/or quotations. Though principles are significant and advantageous in providing a perspective and pointing out a direction, experience itself is the central concern. Hopefully, as the reader journeys beyond the principle into the 321 322 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 197913 experience which it ~luciidates, he will find deeper meaning in it and be able to come into contact with the principal Reality underlying all real princi-ples. Ten Principles of Prayer 1. Prayer is Essentially Loving Attention1 Thus the individual also should proceed only with a loving attention to God, without making specific acts. He should conduct himself passively, as we have said, without efforts of his own, but with the simple, loving awareness, as a person who opens his eyes with loving attention,z Attention animated by desire is the whole foundation of religious practices? shall not dwell upon this because I want to say something about the way in which think those of us who practice prayer may profit, though everything is profitable to soul that loves the Lord with fervent desire, since it instills into it courage and wonder.4 Two essential elements of authentic prayer are contained in the defini-tion of prayer as loving attention: awareness of the presence of the Other and a h.eartfelt, concerned response. Distraction within consciousness and indifference of the heart are obstacles to meaningful communication with God. If, on our part, we are called to love with attention, this is consequent upon God's loving attention toward us. God made us; he is attentive to the smallest detail of our lives; he loves us completely. An affirmative answer must be given to Blake's deeply religious question: ~'Did he smile his work to see?" The Father's loving attention has been revealed in Jesus, the Word incarnate. A coming-to-visit verifies God's love and awareness. Further verification is found in the sending of the Spirit into our lives, the Spirit of love and knowledge. Because of this personal Grace we are enabled to truly pray. The Spirit too comes to help us in our weakness. For when we cannot choose words in order to pray properly, the Spirit himself expresses our plea in a way that could never be put into words, and God who knows everything in our hearts knows per-fectly well what he means, and that the pleas of the saints expressed by the Spirit are according to the mind of God.? Defining prayer in terms of loving attention is simple but not simplistic. Its simplicity lies in its directness and succinctness; it is not reductionistic ~SeeJo 17;Ro 11:33-36. ~The Collected Works of St. John of the Cross, (Tr., Kavanaugh, and Rodriguez, Washington, D.C.: ICS Publications, Institute of Carmelite Studies, 1973), p. 622. 3Simone Weil, Waiting for God, introduction by Leslie Fiedler (New York: Harper Colophon Books, 1951), p. 197. 4The Complete Works of St. Teresa of Jesus, translated and edited by E. Allison Peers (London: Sheed and Ward, 1944), Vol. I!, p. 363. ~Ro 8:26-27. Principles of Prayer / 323 because neither love nor attentiveness is easily attained. Prayer, like all great acts, defies full analysis because it contains too much mystery. Only knowledge of prayer from the inside, i.e., through experience, allows for even surface knowledge of such a powerful event. 2. Prayer is Proportionate to the Qualit~ of One's Love6 Farewell, farewell! but this I tell To thee, thou Wedding Guest! He prayeth well, who loveth well Both man and bird and beast. He prayeth best, who Ioveth best All things both great and small; For the dear God who Ioveth us, He made and Ioveth all.7 He knew that without prayer true love was impossible, and he learned from living that without love prayer became self-centered and barren.8 I repeat that if you have this in view you must not build upon foundations of prayer and contemplation alone, for, unless you strive after the virtures and practice them, you will never grow to be more than dwarfs. God grant that nothing worse than this may happer~for, as you know, anyone who fails to go forward begins to go back, and love, I believe, can never be content to stay for long where it is.8 The spiritual life demands balance. How one relates to God in prayer is intimately related to how one encounters his neighl~or. Scripture is trans-parent on this point: he who says that he loves God and at the same time shows hatred to his neighboris a liar:1° The person who spends an hour in prayer while fi~glecting the obvious needs of people close at hand must seriously examine the authenticity of such prayer. Indeed, the reality check for one's prayer life is fraternal charity.~1 Prayer and love are ~ymbiotic. Since our God is Love, we must be in close contact with him if we are to share that gift with others to its fullest. The reverse is also true: unless we share the love given in prayer, the gift dries up or simply engenders pride. As in all provinces of life, the principle of interdependence applies directly to the spiritual life, too. Integration of prayer and' love, contemplation and virture, liturgy and the apostolate are called for. Isolation and fragmentation here create a false spirituality visible to everyone except their possessor. A vision of integrated spirituality and a discipline of courageous action is true imitation of Christ. 81Jo 2:9-11; Lk 4:42-44. 7Samuel Taylor Coleridge, "The Rime of the Ancient Mariner.'" SMurray Bodo, Francis: The Journe~ and the Dream (Cincinnati: St, Anthony Messenger Press, 1972), p. 64. 8St. Teresa, II, p. 347. ~°1 Jo 2. ~Spiritual Renewal of the American Priesthood (Washington, D.C.: Publication Office United States Catholic Conference, 1973), p. 48. 324 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/3 3. Genuine Prayer Demands Some Self-Control of Body and Spiritt2 ¯. we shall not fail to observe the fasts, disciplines and periods of silence which the order commands: for, as you know, if prayer is to be genuine it must be reinforced with these things--prayer cannot be accompanied by self-indulgence?'~ Oh, who can tell how impossible it is for a man with appetites to judge the things of God as they are.j4 We shall have overcome a considerable obstacle when prayer and penance condition each other, for their unity will be able to become the guarantee of their orientation. If it is necessary to deprive oneself of food and sleep, it is not to establish a perform-ance or glorify oneself over an exploit, but to allow the spirit to give itself freely to prayer, since, if it is less strongly captivated by the things of earth, it will be able to give attention to what is above it.15 When the body or the spirit is not free but addicted to various sub-stances or objects, the process of prayer is threatened. A body satiated with food and drink becomes listless and weary; a mind constantly filled with the flood of stimuli is so preoccupied as not to be receptive to other realities. Prayer is premised upon the ability to say '~no" to one level of reality so as to be able to say "yes" to the workings of the Spirit. Asceticism is a condition which creates space and time for dialogue with God. Certain exercises, such as fasting, periods of extended silence, volun-tary mortification, are means by which that space and time become real. The "if-then" principle applies to spirituality as it does to all of life: if the farmer wants the fall harvest, then he must willingly do the spring plowing and planting; ira person wants to listen and respond to the Lord, then time and space must be created for the encounter to happen. Strong and deter-min~: d desire lies at the root of such discipline. Self-control extends one step beyond asceticism. Once the emptiness has been created through exercises done out of love, then the soul must wait on the Lord who will come in his time and in his manner. Waiting for God is at the heart of prayer and is already a deep form of prayer; self-control makes that waiting possible and grace makes it sacred. Although not speaking of prayer, C. S. Lewis describes well this aspect of what is, after all, part of the human condition: "Then came the worst part, the waiting." ~ 4. In Prayer, 1 Must Bring This Me to the Living and True God~7 I enter into the presence of God with all my load of misery and troubles. And he takes me just as I am and makes me to be alone with him?~ ~ZGa 5:16-26: Mt 4:1-17. ~3St. Teresa, I1, p. 16. ~4St. John of the Cross, p. 364. ~Fran~ois Roustang, S.J., Growth in the Spirit, (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1966), p¯ 232. ~nC. S. Lewis, The Last Battle (New York: Collier Books, 1956). p. 13. ~rjg 6:13: Ro 7:14-25. This principle of prayer was presented in a gu.ided retreat by Fr. William A. M. Peters, S.J. ~SRaissa's Journal, presented by Jacques Maritain (Albany, N.Y.: Magi Books, 1974), p. 225. Principles of Prayer / 325 If you're approaching him not as the goal but as a road, not as the end but as a means, you're not really approaching him at all?9 I can testify that this is one of the most grievous kinds of life which I think can be imagined, for I had neither any joy in God nor any pleasure in the world. When i was in the midst of worldly pleasures, I was distressed by the remembrance of what I owed to God; when I was with God, I grew restless because of worldly ~iffections.z° Any genuine conversation requires that each participant have an ade-quate level of self-knowledge and is familiar with the content under discus-sion. Where either is wanting, communication breaks down. Prayer, which is essentially a form of communication, contains the same requirements: we must know our real self and have some notion of who God is as well as understand the experience that is being ~;hared. Because of a drive to come off 'qooking well," it is difficult to bring the true, real self to God without a kind of editing. Because God can be conceived in ways that are distor-tions of his true nature, it can easily happen that we attempt to pray to gods that do not exist. One of the greatest causes for sterility in prayer stems precisely from a misconception of God and a failure to be in touch with our true identity. Psychologists are helpful in depicting for us a variety of selves with which we must deal: Each of us seems to have three self-concepts. The personal self-image is how the individual pictures his most inner self ("how 1 really am"). The social self is how he thinks others see him, and the pattern of responses he learns in order to be a social being. The Meal self is made up of the goals set by parents, the culture, and other sources ("how I should be"). Often, these three conflict, creating problems for the individual trying to satisfy them all.z~ Each person must examine which of these selves is operative not only in the interactions of one's daily life but also as one comes before God. To play a role or function in the presence of the Lord prohibits encounter with our deepest self. To demand that the ideal self be actualized before its due season (perfectionism) leads only to a guilt trip every time we must turn to prayer. God says to us, "Come as you are"--no need for formal dress here. C. S. Lewis knew that God cannot be captured by our finite reason: "My idea of God is not a divine idea. It has .to be shattered time after time.''z2 Yet we can come to some knowledge of the living and true God. As Christians we attain to this through faith and the knowledge of Jesus Christ. In Jesus our God is made visible. Gifted with the Spirit, we make our journey to the Father in and through Jesus. His life, death and resurrec-tion is a summary statement of the Father's love and forgiveness. Thus all ~9C. S. Lewis, Surprised by Joy (New York: Harcourt, Brace & World. 1955), p. 21. 2°St. Teresa, I, p. 48. 2~John H. Brennecke and Robert G. Amick; Psychology: Understanding Yourself(California: Benziger Bruce & Glencoe, 1975), p. 43. "~C. S. Lewis, A Grief Observed (New York: The Seabury Press, 1961), p. 52. 326 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 197913 of our prayer passes through and is enriched by the Lord as we speak to and listen to the Father. .Authentic prayer demands authentic, real persons. Our real self must be continually ferreted out; our real God must be longed for and awaited in silence and solitude. Only when real people meet can dialogue take place; the dialogue of prayer is no exception. 5. Prayer's Primary Focus Is on God, Not Self or Events2:~ I get nowhere by looking at myself; I merely get discouraged. So I am making the resolution to abandon myself entirely to God, to look only at him, to leave all the care of myself to him, to practice only one thing, confidence; my extreme wretchedness, my natural cowardice leaving me no other way to go to God and to advance in good .24 it is not my business to think about myself. My business is to think about God. It is for God to think about me.z~ You could, if you wished, deny that Mister God existed, but'then any denial didn't alter the fact that Mister God was. No, Mister God was; he was the kingpin, the center, the very heart of things; and this is where it got funny, You see, we had to recognize that he was all these things, and that meant that we were at our qenter, not God. God is our center, and yet it is we who acknowledge that he is the center. That makes us somehow internal to Mister God. This is the curious nature of Mister God: that even while he is at the center of all things, he waits outside us and knocks to come in. It is we who open the door. Mister God doesn't break it down and come in; no, he knocks and waits.2n Focusing and centering are concepts and experiences that are empha-sized in spirituality and psychology. Through this activity we realize that what is at the core of our consciousness radically affects our thoughts, feelings and actions. Often, a violent struggle takes place deep within our interior as various persons, forces, and things vie for centrality. Prayer deals directly with centering. Oi)r experience indicates how easily self-centeredness moves in or how daily anxieties and worries can become so strong as to exclude any awareness of a loving, caring God. Self-transcendence is no easy task; trust that the Lord will provide is more easily thought than experienced. Only in grace can the obstacles blocking encounter with God be removed. Jesus' prayer and life were centered on the Father and the doing of his will. Often in the early hours and before major events we see Jesus explicitly turning to the Father in deep, familiar communication. These explicit moments were indications of an implicit, hidden life of union. How else explain the intimacy of the last supper discourse? Yet Jesus, in his humanness, must have struggled at times to keep proper focus. We need but ponder the agony in the garden to realize that the struggle we have with ourselves and our fear of suffering were part ~aPs 23: Ga 2:17-21. Z4Raissa's Journal, p. 83. Z~Waiting for God, pp. 50-51. ~nFynn, Mister God, This is Anna (New York: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1974), p. 174. Principles of Prayer / 327 of our Lord's experience as well. The lives of the saints are the records of people who struggled to center on God in spite of their own selfishness. Augustine's ongoing conversion, Teresa of Avila's admission that for years her prayer was superficial, John of the Cross' constant challenge to mortification lest the self dominate--all manifest the eternal conflict between the ego and divine love. Marvelously God has withheld rest so that we can never be at full peace unless we center on him. George Herbert saw this and recorded it magnificantly: When God at first made man, Having a glass of blessings standing by, Let us (said he) pour on him all we can; Let the world's riches, which dispersed lie, Contract into a span. So strength first made a way; Then beauty flow'd, then wisdom, honor, pleasure: When almost all was out, God made a stay, Perceiving that, alone of all his treasure, Rest in the bottom lay. For if I should (said he) Bestow this jewel also on my creature, He would adore my gifts instead of me, And rest in Nature, not the God of Nature: So both should losers be. Yet let him keep the rest, But keep them with repining restlessness; Let him be rich and weary, that at least, if goodness lead him not, yet weariness May toss him to my breast.~7 6. Silence, Solitude and Surrender are Conditions for Pra~er2s When it happens, therefore, that a person is conscious in this manner of being placed in solitude and in the state of listening, he should even forget the practice of loving attentiveness I mentioned so as to remain free for what the Lord then desires of him The beginning of integrity is not effort but surrender; it is simply the opening of the heart to receive that for which the heart is longing. The healing of mankind begins whenever any man ceases to resist the love of God.n° Good as is discourse, silence is better, and shames it. The length of the discourse indicates the distance of thought betwixt the speaker and the hearer, if they were at a perfect understanding in any part, no words would be necessary thereon. If at one in all parts, no words would be suffered,n~ ZrGeorge Herbert, "'The Pulley." 28Lk 22:39-46; Mt 6:5-6. ~°St. John of the Cross, p. 623. n°Caryll Houselander, quoted in Maisie Ward, Caryll Houselander: That Divine Eccentric (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1962), p. 279. n~"Circles," Essays of Ralph Waldo Emerson (New York: The Book League of America, 1941), p. 106. 32~i / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/3 This SSS Principle (Silence, Solitude, Surrender) establishes the dis-positions allowing for union with God. Simply by looking at their opposites we realize how important they are. Constant chatter impedes prayer ("In your prayers do not babble as the pagans do." Mt. 6:5); crowding our lives with activities and people stifles the inner agenda; clutching desperately to our own wills thwarts the realization of the Father's will. In a culture that is activistic and grasping, the qualities of silence, solitude and surrender are not easy to come by. We must recognize the influence of the external environment on the internal milieu. Diligence and discipline are required if we are to grow in a rich, interior silence; courage and trust, if we are to dwell alone with the Other; love and generosity, if we are to accomplish the Lord's will freely. The attainment of a given end necessitates using an appropriate means. The house of the Lord is attained by traveling the path of silence, solitude and surrender. The path is narrow, perhaps peopled by few. Desire for union with God provides the enthusiasm to set out and continue on the journey. The greatest tragedy is to ignore the voices that call us to love, to dwell with many and not to have the One, to retain a false freedom at the cost of life. 7. The Tone of Prayer is One of Reverence and Awe:~" Then prayer is a witness that the soul wills as God wills, and it eases the conscience and fits man for grace. And so he teaches us to pray and to have firm trust that kve shall have it; for he beholds us in love, and wants to make us partners in his good will and work.3'~ Earth's crammed with heaven And every common bush afire with God; And only he who sees takes off his shoes-- The rest sit round and pluck blackberries?4 First, therefore, I invite the reader to the groans of prayer through Christ crucified. through whose blood we are cleansed from the filth of vice-- so that he not believe that reading is sufficient without unction. speculation without devotion, investigation without wonder, observation without joy. work without piety, knowledge without love, understanding without humility '~21s6:1-9: Ps 118:5-7. :~Julian of Norwich: Showings. translated from the critical text with an introduction by Edmund Colledge. O.S.A. and James Walsh. S.J. (New York: Paulist Press, 1978), p. 253. '~Elizabeth Barrett Browning, "Aurora Leigh.'" Principles of Prayer / 399 endeavor without divine grace, ¯ reflection as a mirror without divinely inspired wisdom?5 A personal attitude toward a particular person or object is known as tone. Hostility, lack of openness and prejudices are negative attitudes creating an atmosphere (tone) of fear and discomfort; gentleness, respect and affability are positive attitudes promoting a climate (tone) of warmth and joy. The interior manner by which we approach God is of great impor-tance in prayer. Julian of Norwich writes that, when one is comfortable in coming to the Lord, deeper experiences of prayer are possible: And so'prayer makes harmony between God and man's soul, because when man is at ease with God he does not need to pray, but to contemplate reverently what God says.3s Though our tone is important, of greater significance is the manner in which God comes to us in prayer. God's attitude flows from his nature, a nature which is summarized in the word love. And love's cousins are reverence and awe. What mystery here !--that our God is so gracious and courteous in his visitations to us. Julian of Norwich shares her experience of God's tonality: Of everything which I saw, this was the greatest comfort to me, that our Lord is so familiar and so courteous, and this most filled my soul with delight and surety?7 When entering into prayer it is of great profit to ask for the Spirit of reverence and awe, that same Spirit which empowered Jesus as he ad-dressed the Father in silence and solitude. Reverence and awe are essen-tially gifts and are to be asked for. When gifted with these gentle attitudes our prayer takes on an entirely different quality. Without these gifts our hearts are stifled and our service cool. The reverent feel deeply and serve generously; the awe-filled see with wonder and hear with trembling. 8. God's Activity in Prayor is Fat" More Important Than Out" Activity:~s ,, Prayer is a personal response to God's presence. It is more something that God does to us, rather than anything we do. This means that God first makes himself present to us. Prayer is our awareness of and then response to God?~ In this interior union God communicates himself to the soul with such genuine love that no mother's affection, in which she tenderly caresses her child, nor brother's love, nor friendship is comparable to it. The tenderness and truth of love by which the immense Father favors and exalts this humble and loving soul reaches such a de-gree-- O wonderful thing] worthy of all our awe and admiration--that the Father himself becomes subject to her for her exaltation, as though he were her servant and :~SBonaventure: The Soul's Journey into God, translation and introduction by Ewert Cousins (New York: Paulist Press. 1978), pp. 55-56. a~Showings, p. 159. arll?id., p. 136. asPs 138; Jo 6:44. a~Fr. Armand Nigro,-Prayer" (source unknown). 330 I Review for Religious, Volume 38, 197913 she his lord. And he is as solicitous in favoring her as he would be if he were her slave and she his god. So profound is the humility and sweetness of God!4° In the first place it should be known that if a person is seeking God, his Beloved is seeking him much more.4~ Self-sufficiency is a trait much admired by our culture. Nothing happens unless we make it happen; being responsible implies the to~al management of our lives, including the spiritual domain. Control is the goal. With such a mentality it is not surprising that God's invitations and graces fall on deaf ears and are unseen because of our blindness. We simply are not open to outside motivation; we are dancers who must always lead. The conse-quence of such a disposition is tragic: "A person extinguishes the spirit by wanting to conduct himself in a way different from that in which God is leading him.''42 While acknowledging both the necessity and health of self-reliance in its deepest meaning, complete self-motivation leads to stagnation and death~ Faith tells us that God always takes the initiative, that Christian life is a radical response to what God speaks and calls us to do. In no way does this deny the principle that we are challenged to make things happen, not just let them happen. But it affirms that our "making" is consequent upon the word of our Father. The Christian heart, in wisdom, seeks simply to please the Father, whatever is asked. Though the request may be sur-rounded by darkness, though his thoughts and ways differ from our own, the challenge will remain the same: "Our task is always the humble and courageous one of listening obediently and acting boldly.''4:~ Hopefully our activity flows from that deep listening to the word of God. The day begins with a listening disposition; it ends with a review of our response to the Father's word. Thus, prayer is dialogic. Aword is spoken in love and answered out of love; the answer itself becomes the substance for the next movement in the warm, mutual relationship between God and his creature. The familiarity here is profound; its absence creates an incredible loneliness and a haunting restlessness. o There is no One Way of Praying: Pluralism in Prayer Must Be Carefully Safeguarded44 If while the soul is meditating the Lord should suspend it, well and good; for in that case he will make it cease meditation even against its own will. I consider it quite certain that this method of procedure is no hindrance to the soul but a great help to it in everything that is good; whereas, if it labored hard at meditation in the way 4°Sl. John of the Cross, p. 517. 4tlbid., p. 620. 4Zlbid., p. 232. 4aRomano Guardini, The Life of Faith, translated by John Chapin (Westminster, Maryland: The Newman Press, 1961), p. 106. 44Col 3:12-17; Lk 4:42-44. Principles of Prayer / 33"1 I have already described, this would indeed be a hindrance--in fact, I believe such labor is impossible for a'person who has attained greater heights. This may not be so with everyone, since God leads souls by many ways, but those who are unable to take this road should not be condemned or judged incapable of enjoying the great bless-ings contained in the mysteries of Jesus Christ our God.45 I do not say this without reason, for, as I have said, it is very important for us to realize that God does not lead us all by same road, and perhaps she who believes herself to be going along the lowest road is the highest in the Lord's eyes. So it does not follow that, because all of us in this house practice prayer, we are all perforce to be contem-platives. 46 God leads each one along different paths so that hardly one spirit will be found like another in even half its method of procedure.4~ Uniqueness of personality structure helps to specify what form and style of prayer is most appropriate for the individual. God works with and through our individuality. How dangerous, therefore, to simply adopt someone eise's manner of praying. Sheer imitation is not only foolish but can be injurious to one's spiritual life, leading to frustration and discourage-ment. A popul~tr expression states: "Different strokes for different folks!" So in the spiritual life: different prayers for different cares. Prayer is as varied as people with the commonality coming in the wor~d-.responsp pat-tern underl~,ing all communication between God and his pe6ple. Just as p.rayer varies from person to perso~n, prayer also varies within each person's life. During certain periods of faith developme'.~t'~, Vocal and formal pray.er may well be the best form of prayer for that time; at other stages, meditative or contemplative prayer may be in orde~r. Further, prayer styles may change within the course of a single week, even in the course of a single hour of prayer. Form and style is not the heart of the fiaatter; what is of essence is personal encounter with God. Once that experience hap-pens, we simply rest in his presence. "As soon as God's word makes its impact, we must leave all the rest and follow it."48 Prayer is a means to an end; the end is union with God. The paths to union are multiple. The necessary pluralism is threatened by stereotyping and rigid con-formity. Granting the validity, indeed the necessity, of a certain measure of uniformity in public prayer, the principle to be followed in personal, private prayer is that of freedom. Only the individual knows the context of his/her own life; it is the context that sets {he parameters for the form and style of prayer. Because our context is cbntinually changing, prayer forms must adapt themselves accordingly. Thus pluralism becomes a principle neces-sary for spiritual health and growth. ~sSt. Teresa, II, pp. 307-308. 46lbid., p. 69. 4TSt. John of the Cross, p. 633. 4~Hans Urs von Balthasar, Prayer, tr., A. V. Littledale (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1961), p. 108. ~ / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/3 10. Prayer Leads to Intimacy With God and to Solidarity With All Creation4~ It should be noted that until the soul reaches this state of union of love, she should practice love in both the active and contemplative life. Yet once she arrives, she should not become involved in other works and exterior exercises that might be of the slightest hindrance to the attentiveness of love toward God, even though the work be of great service to God. For a little of this pure love is more precious to God and the soul and more beneficial to the Church, even though it seems one is doing nothing, than all these other works put together.~ In prayer ! can enter into contact with the God who created me and all things out of love. In prayer I can find a new sense of belonging since it is there that I am most related We are put on earth a little space, That we may learn to bear the beams of love:52 Activities find their meaning in terms of their goal. The end of the spiritual life is union with God and by means of this unity we are myste-riously united to all of creation. Oneness is attained by love; prayer is a central Iove-act'in our lives. Through the ongoing communication with God, we grow in mutual knowledge and respect until one day we awake to an intimacy incapable of description. The bonding here is subtle and myste-rious, powerfi)l and challenging. The Lord stands at the door knocking and a choice t]as to be made. Following our "Fiat," God comes to dwell with us and our homes are never the same. Prayer's unifying power does not terminate in intimacy with God alone. Authentic prayer necessitates ever deeper union with our brothers and sisters. To be united to the Father means to be united to his children, the entire family of God. The closer we are to the cross of Christ and the power of the Spirit, the closet" we are to all of life. By touching the fountain of life and holiness, we touch all creation. Thus, without prayer a sense of aliena-tion and isolation invades our hearts. Separated from the source we cannot come into vital contact with the created world. Prayer gives us entrance not only into the heart of our triune God but also into the mystery of his loving creation. Because prayer fosters intimacy it is not uncommon for fear to block our communication with God. Intimacy means to know and to be known whole; such radical sharing implies the possibility of radical rejection. Perhaps we are not sure that we are all that lovable. Thus it is in faith and trust that we approach our God, believing that he loves us unconditionally; it is with humility and courage that we approach our brothers and sisters knowing 49Ps 139: Jr 31:31-34. ~°St. John of the Cross, p. 523. ~Henri J. M. Nouwen, The Genesee Diary: Report from a Trappist Monastery (New York: Doubleday & Company. 1976), p. 51. ~2George Herbert, -The Little Black Boy." Principles of Prayer / 333 that through grace we can accept them and that they can accept us. Prayer involves revelation, acceptance and humility; it demands faith, trust and courage. Gifted by the Spirit, we enter the land of prayer and therein find our happiness. The Journey and the Map In discussing any one aspect of the spiritual life we must view it con-textually. This paper points out ten signs on the road to union: prayer as loving attention, prayer's relationship to love, prayer's need for discipline, prayer and proper identity, prayer's focus, the conditions for prayer, prayer's tonality, source of prayer, the principle of pluralism, and prayer's goal. A corresponding set of principles marking out other aspects of the terrain in the spiritual life could easily be worked out and these would provide meaning in such areas as ministry and asceticism. The map is large; we have considered but one aspect. Regardless of the principle and its specification, the destination is always the same: the experience of Love. That experience comes alive when we move from the map to the land it describes. Contemplative Prayer: Many Are Called William Meninger, O.C.S.O. Father Meninger is a monk of St. Joseph's Abbey, Spencer, MA 01562. ~n the foreword to his beautiful treatise on contemplative prayer, the unknown author of the 14th century Cloud of Unknowing describes the kinds of persons who should, and those who should not read his little book. He swiftly eliminates: worldly gossips, flatterers, the scrupulous, busy-bodies, hypocrites, and those who are simply curious--whether they are educated or not. Then he goes on to describe those whom grace has pre-pared to grasp his message. These are people who, every now and then, taste something of contemplative love by way of the action of the Holy Spirit in the very center of their souls, exciting them to love. This ought to include, at some time or other of his or her life, every Christian. That is to say, contemplative prayer, in some form or other, really is for everyone. Instead of speaking of the "extra6rdinary" grace of contemplative prayer (the beginnings of which, at least, we are here equating with Centering Prayer), we should speak of the extraordinary grace of prayer itself. Given the great miracle of prayer itself, contemplative prayer, as well as every other degree or intensity of prayer, ought to follow naturally, as it were. Origen, one of the earliest of the fathers of the Church, in his com-mentary on the Our Father, says that the most marvelous thing about this prayer is not any particular phrase included in it, but the very fact that we can say it at all. The extraordinary grace lies in our God-given ability to bridge the infinite gap between God and man and to converse with him 334 Contemplative Prayer: Many Are Called / 335 face to face, in a word, to pray. Once we understand this, the place con-templative prayer can and should have is no longer a problem. Prayer differs from prayer, not in essence, but merely in its degree of intensity. Basically the simplest recitation of the Our Father in faith, hope and love by .any child is the same as the most profound communion in a silence beyond words of the greatest mystic. The difference can be found in degree or intensity but not in the nature of prayer itself. In any prayer, of whatever type or intensity, the one praying so enters into the triune life of God that he becomes one with the Holy Spirit pre-cisely as the Spirit is the fullest expression of the love of the Father for the Son and of the Son for the Father. The one who prays becomes, as it were, the H01y Spirit, and ,this prayer activity becomes the trinitarian expression of God loving himself. What then is contemplative prayer? How does it differ in intensity from other degrees of prayer? To answer these questions we have to look at prayer as a human relationship. For this, indeed, it truly is: a relationship with God, of course;but because it is the relationship of a human person with God it must, as are ~ali his relationships, be a human relationship. A simple' understanding of this obvious fact will take us a long way in understanding prayer. The man-to-God relationship is human. Obviously it is a graced rela~ tionship, but, nonetheless, it is still human. A man-to-man relationship is also human, and it is by understanding this kind of relationship that we can come to a deeper understanding of the man,to-God, or prayer re]ationship. Let us take a concrete example of a human, man-to-woman relationship and see how it helps us to understand our prayer-,relationship with God, 'At some .social gathering, let us say, a party, John meets Mary. And, of course, Mary meets John. The hostess introduces them in typical fashion: "John, I would like you tomeet my good friend, Mary. Mary, I would like you to meet my cousin, John. John, you will be happy to know that Mary is also a rabid baseball fan!" The hostess then walks away, leaving them together. Now, if John and Mary simply stand there awkwardly staring at nothing and saying nothing, the relationship will end before it really begins. However, this is why the hostess, conscious of her role, has indicated their mutual interest in baseball. It provides them with enough background to pursue their acquaintanceship. And so, with so superficial and external a beginning, John and Mary enter that level of human relationship that we call acquaintance. It is not a deep relationship. Even so, should they find it difficult to continue the conversation, the ensuing silence would be uncomfortable, even embar-rassing. Still, at this level, such personal things as deeper aspirations, peak experiences, intimate feelings, or life goals are not shared. This, then, isa human relationship on the first, most primitive level that. of acquaintance. The couple meet, introduced by a third party who gives 336 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/3 them some mutual background, and they pursue the relationship from there--or allow it to die. Understanding that our prayer relationship is simply a human relationship with God,. it, too, must have an acquaintance level. And it does. This began for most of us in early childhood when a third party, perhaps our mother or father, introduced us to God, gave us some background (as the hostess did to John and Mary), and told us that God loved us and would answer prayers. "This is Jesus. He is God. He loves you and will answer your prayers." And so we began our first level of relationship with God, the level of acquaintance. This level expresses itself mostly in the simpler prayers requesting favors or in memorized prayers said without any profound comprehension. We have many relationships on this first level--we have many mere acquaintances. The tCagedy is that for some, the relationship with God never develops beyond this level. Their prayer life is limited to periodic appeals for divine help in times of trouble. But let us return to our example of John and Mary. As a result of the small talk characteristic of their acquaintance-relationship, each begins to recognize in the other certain qualities which make their relationship worth pursuing. Each desires to get to know the other better. In order to do this, they make a "date," they make arrangements to get together, just the two of them, so they can share and become further acquainted with those attractive qualities they are beginning to recognize in each other. Now they begin to reveal more and more of their personal feelings, experiences, ideas and goals in their conversation. Perhaps John tells Mary things about himself that he has never before revealed to anyone. And her response is more sympathetic than any he has ever found before. Some-times this response is merely a comfortable, accepting silence; for no longer is silence between them awkward and uncomfortable. It is no longer a negative thing but as they get to know each other better and better, what had been just a void becomes filled with one another. They have now entered, not into a different kind of human relationship, but into a deeper, more intense one. We will call this deeper level the relationship of friend-ship. Remembering that our prayer relationship with God is also a human relationship, we willexpect to find the same thing happening here. After we become acquainted with God, on the first level, we begin to recognize that He has qualities worth pursuing. And so we do just what John and Mary did--we make a "date" with God! We go apart with him in order to learn more about him and also to reveal to him intimate, personal thoughts and concerns. This is done in many, many different ways. We may attend some form of religious instruction where we learn to know God better. We may read and meditate and listen to the Scriptures where God personally reveals himself to us. Whatever the source, we begin to allow his truths to form our Contemplative Prayer: Many Are Called / 337 lives. We talk over with him our successes and failures, our new begin-nings. We internalize his truths and live his life of grace as we witness them in others or as we read the reflections of others about them. In other words by reflection or "discursive meditation," as we call it, we become ac-customed to speaking with God on a personal level, revealing ourselves to him, and, at the same time, learning about him from the truths of his revelation. Our acquaintanceship with God has deepened to the level of friendship. It would be well here to emphasize one point. The friendship between John and Mary is going to endure only as long as~ in some way or other, they continue to find interest in sharing with one another, to '~date" in some fashion or other. They must, even if it is only by telephone or by mail, keep up contact with one another. We have all experienced the strangeness of an old friendship which, after years without contact, descends once again into the awkwardness of mere acquaintance. And so it is with God. If we are to continue with him, we must per-severe in our spiritual reading, in our reflective meditation. Friendships do not remain stable. Either they are cultivated and grow, or they lessen. God, by reason of the free, bountiful bestowal of his grace, is always actively encouraging a growth in our friendship with him--Imagine! He finds quali-ties in us worth pursuing! It remains for us to cooperate. Let us look now at the third level of a developing human relationship as we see it in John and Mary. 'As they continue to grow closer to one another, the relationship be-tween John and Mary takes on physical overtones. They desire not only the intimacy of shared thoughts, but also physical closeness. This is the time when they are hardly ever seen alone. Walking arm in arm, holding hands, embracing--all these manifestations emerge now. This level of relationship, sometimes called romantic love or affection (the affective level), when it has been preceded by a genuine friendship, represents an authentic growth in John and Mary's relationship. If it has not been preceded by friendship in some way, it is merely an animal relationship. This affective relationship will develop most completely in marriage where the sharing of both per-sonalities and bodies find their fullest expression. But how can this human relationship on the physical, affective level express itself in our human, prayer relationship with God? It must do this somehow if, as we have been insisting, our prayer-relationship is a human one. And it does! Spiritual masters have given us many descriptions of this level of prayer. Some even refer to it as "the honeymoon period'~ because of its brevity, its place early in the prayer-relationship, and because of its emotional (physical, affective) elements. During this period, prayer often takes the form of intimate conversations with God, not infrequently accompanied by tears~ profound, emotionally felt sorrow for sins and a lively joy at the 33~1 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/3 realization of God's love and redemptive activity. This period (as well as the earlier friendship level) may often be interspersed with longer or shorter periods of dryness or aridity as God leads us into a deeper, firmer relation-ship. One o.f the most obvious forms of this affective prayer-relationship with God is seen in the charismatic renewal. When someone is prayed over for the anointing of the Spirit, he is not infrequently "zapped," as it were. This is often accompanied by tea~s, intermingled with expressions of joy and a desire to express and to share with others the abundant overflow of graces. More often, perhaps, it is a quieter experience which serves to fill and inform the basic prayer structures presented by the Church for our worship. This affective level has a great deal to do with the effectiveness of our formal prayer. In the liturgy, for example, the priest is given a structure (readings, prayers, canon). The power in grace that this structure is able to communicate depends in great part (though not entirely) on the depth, of faith, hope and love of the minister. On the part of the participant, the level of his affective prayer-relationship with God will determine to a great extent how much he will grasp of the readings and prayers. In other words, our affective prayer-relationship with God is dependent on our friendship with him. If we do not keep faithful to our periodic "dates" with him, going apart with him for a while, then our affective prayer relationship, as well as our friendship, will degenerate to mere acquaintanceship. Now for a final look at John and Mary. Picture them, if you will, after many years of a long, sometimes difficult, but still happy marriage. Their children are grown, married and gone. John and Mary are back where they began--just the two of them sitting alone of an evening in their home. John perhaps is reading the sports page. Mary is knitting booties for a grand-child. Neither is speaking. Indeed, Mary knows by now just how John feels about everything under the sun. John is equally aware of Mary's thoughts. Yet there is a deep communion between them that does not require words. They are happy just to be in one another's presence. This is what we call the relationship of love. Verbal expressions, words and symbols are no longer necessary or even adequate for John and Mary to communicate. Their deepest relationship is known, felt and expressed by something much more complete than the partial, inadequate attempts to verbalize it. Presence to one another without words or other external signs can be the fullest expression of this human relationship of love. And so it isqn our developing relationship with God. The fourth level of our prayer is the relationship of love, or, what we call "contemplative prayer." It is a simple, quiet, peaceful abiding in his presence, One old man who spent hours daily in the church was once asked by St. John Vianney what he did during all that time. "I don't do anything," he replied. "I just Contemplative Prayer: Many Are Called / 339 look at him and he looks at me." This is contemplative prayer! Contemplative prayer is a very natural, very simple, albeit graced thing which is lived rather than taught. It is a quiet, loving gazing on the face of God (with the eyes of the soul) who is recognized, often even felt by his touching the soul, as present. God is known now, not through the medi-ation of words, or thoughts, or things. These have been used in earlier relationships and have served their purpose. God is seen now with and within the innermost center of the soul, not in light but in darkness, a darkness which is not the mere absence of light but the blinding effulgence of infinite light. He is heard now, not in words, but in the Word who cries "Abba, Father" in the Holy Spirit in a profound and filled silence. One other thing ought to be mentioned in regard to all of the levels of our prayer relationship with God. We must respond in accord with each level of relationship to the voice of God as he manifests his will in our lives. This involves a genuine attempt to make central in our lives the Great Commandment of love, a wholehearted and generous response to the guid-ance of his Church, a frequent and informed participation in 'the sacra-ments, and a continued effort to carry out the duties of our particular vocation in life. Eventually these things will themselves be seen as part of our prayer-relationship also. The distinction between prayer and activity will become less and less significant until everything we do becomes a response to, and thus a part of, our prayer life. It is important to stress the normality of these relationships--both with others in our daily life and with God in our prayer. The progression from acquaintanceship to love is a natural one (and only because of this is it able to be a supernatural one--grace builds on nature). We are all called to love God. And as Saint Bernard says: "The measure of our love is to love without measure." The precise manner or tradition or school of spirituality which we em-ploy to develop and express this love will vary with various individuals. There are many ladders of ascent to God. Each has to find his or her own way. Nonetheless, it remains true that in our day, the approach to God sometimes called Centering Prayer" or "the work of love" (as it is termed in the, fourteenth-century Cloud of Onknowing) has proven helpful to many either as an introduction to contemplative prayer or as a simple, system-atic approach which clarifies and facilitates contemplation. Centering Prayer i:loes presuppose, in some way or other, that we are ready for the love-relationship with God, that we have already passed through the levels of acquaintanceship, friendship, and affection, that we do feel, as the Cloud of Unknowing says, "every now and then a taste of contemplative love, by way of the action of the Holy Spirit in the very center of their souls, exciting them to love." Old Wine and Old Lovers: Hope for the Human Personality in St. John of the Cross Joyce Hampel, C.S.J. This article is an outgrowth of a graduate course followed by Sister Joyce at Gonzaga Univer-sity in Washington. She resides in Star of the Sea Convent: 4350 Geary Blvd. : San Francisco, CA 94118. ~t begins, according to St. John of the Cross, with a certain burning Jove. God reaches down, takes your hand, and guides you along the way to a place you know not (N 2, 16, 7*). There you no longer understand by means of your natural light, but by means of the divine wisdom to which you are united. You no Iong.er love in a lowly manner, but with the strength and purity of the Holy Spirit. Your memory, too, is changed into presentiments of eternal glory (N 2, 4, 2). Having reached the end of your journey of love, you and your beloved are one. "Happy is the life and state," declares St. John of the Cross, "and happy the person who attains it" (C 28, 10). John of the Cross images the human personality as participant in the life of the living God. For the person seeking God, it is God who communicates himself. And it is in the transformation of the person in God that the two become one, "as a window united with a ray of sunlight, or coal with fire, or starlight with the light of the sun" (C 26, 4). Throughout John's writings, *Symbols: A, The Ascent of Mount Carmel N, The Dark Night C, The Spiritual Canticle" F, The Living Flame of Love 340 Old Wine and Old Lovers: Hope in John of the Cross / 34"1 the human person is challenged to a process of awakening and purification, making him more and more capable of God. This transformation is par-ticularly emphasized as a growth into freedom realized in fourareas of human life: stillness of spirit, radical simplicity, authentic love, and intimate knowledge of Christ the Word. Essential to each of these is the new life of God rooted in the soul, comparable in John to the perfected evolution of aged wine and tried lovers. In his Spiritual Canticle, John's bride-soul sings: In the inner wine cellar I drank of my Beloved, and, when I went abroad Through all this valley I no longer knew anything, And lost the herd which I was following (stanza 26). The image of wine is for John a helpful one in instructing spiritual persons. It suggests all the stages of spiritual growth, and parallels the relationship between lovers. "New lovers," says John, "are comparable to new wine. They are beginners in the service of God" (C 25, 10). While in the process of fermentation, wine is incomplete; its good qualities and value are uncertain, and its taste is sharp. New lovers are also in a process of fermentation. They often rely on exterior fervor, finding strength in the "savor of love" alone. Such love cannot be trusted; in fact, it carries such anxieties that the lovers are more often fatigued than refreshed. Just as this fervor and the warmth of sense can incline one to good and perfect love, and serve as a beneficial means for such love by a thorough fermentation of the lees of imperfection, so too it is very easy in these beginnings and in this novelty of tastes that the new wine of love fails and loses its fervor and delight (C 25, 10). On the other hand, old wine offers transformed refreshment. Its fer-mentation is complete, its good quality is evident, its taste is smooth. The strength of aged wine lies not in the taste, however, but in the substance. "Old !overs," reflects John, "~hose who are exercised and tried in the service of the Bridegroom, are like old wine" (C 25, 11). The souls are at rest, afflictions of love no longer burden the sense of spirit. "Spiced wine" flows in them from the "balsam of God" (C stanza 25). Such love is based not on sensible delights, as is th~ love of new lovers, but settled within the soul, in spiritual substance and savor, and truly good works (C 2~, I I). John's hope for the human personality is reflected in this example of tried love: the person is still and rests in his Beloved; sensory delights and dangers no longer affect him, for he loves only One; the essence of the " person seeks a quality of love that is purged of selfishness and hardly ever fails the Beloved; and knowledge of God clothes the person with a di~)inity that, as we shall see, is fastened on Christ alone (A 2, 22, 5). 342 /Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/3 In reflecting on the perfection of the human personality, we so often think of human capabilities as powers--powers that men and women use to control, 6r at least influence, an external force. John of the Cross, however, speaks not so much of power.or amassed capabilities as he does of sur-render. The person chooses, having already experienced the infinite love of the Lord, to hand over to him all his powers. Human perfection rests, then, in allowing another, the one who is totally other, to move him. It is a process of holding back desire~, of permitting another to enter your life, of losing some of self in order to become gr~eater. This first movement toward stillness of spirit is described in John's Ascent of Mount Carmel. "Renounce and remain empty of any sensory satisfaction that is not purely for the honor and glory of God" (A 1, 13, 14); "enter into complete nudity, emptiness, and poverty in everything" (A 1, 13, 6). Such a self-emptying will bring the stillness that one desires. John's diagram of the ascent speakseven more clearly: In this nakedness the spirit finds its quietude and rest. For in coveting nothing, nothing raises it up and nothing weighs it down, because it is in the center of its humility. When it covets something in this very desire it is wearied.(A 1, 13, 11). The mark of a person who has achieved this spirit is that he is able to "abide in quietude" (A 2, 12, 8). He can give loving attentiveness to the Lord because he has learned to be empty. Like the wine that has stopped effer-vescing, he is still. The journey that is ahead of him will surely bring darkness and pain, but trust in God effects its own inner peace. It is significant .to mention the underlying attitude that accompanies a still heart. The' person must be able to see himself in relation to God, and to exercise the patience that will allow transformation in God to happen. This is one of John's hopes for the human personality, but not everyone achieves it. Many "would rather want all to be perfect, but God finds fe~v vessels that will endure so lofty and sublime a work" (F 2, 27). Waiting is the first act of love. "God usually does things, not so there will be an immediate understanding of them, but that afterwards at the proper time, or when the effect is produced, one may receive light about them" (A 2, 20, 3). God knows what he is doing. It is we who do not know how to be still in his hands. The second characteristic John anticipates is radical simplicity. In the darkness of its cask, wine becomes mellow when the lees of the grapes settle. The liquid has taken into itself the deep color of the skins and drawn from the pulp its delicate flavors. But the wine must be purged of the sediment before it can exhibit the valued clarity. So too with the spiritual journeyer. Old Wine and Old Lovers: Hope in John of the Cross / 343 To journey to God, the will must walk in detachment from every pleasant thing, rather than in attachment to it. It thus carries out well the commandment to love, which is to love God above all things; this cannot be done without nakedness and emptiness concerning them all (F 3, 51). Such poverty requires radical denial and convergent vision. For John, this implies a todo-nada approach to the search for human fulfillment in God. You must want nothing and have nothing in order to possess everything: :For to go from all to the all you must deny yourself of all in all. And when you come to the possession of the all you must possess it without wanting anything. Because if you desire to have something in all your treasure in God is not purely your hll (A 1, 13, 11). All sensory desires, all thoughts,oall imaginings, all passions must find their satisfaction in the mercy of God alone. At the same time, the person must consider the life God offers him his only treasure. To rely on appre-hensions, natural or supernatural, would be to hold God in less esteem than we should. "God makes the ~soul die to all that he is not, so that when it is stripped and flayed of its old skin, he may clothe it anew., and thus this soul will be a soul of heaven, heavenly and mor.e divine than human" (N 2, 16, 7). The human person becomes more than the limitations of his appetites formerly allowed. The person becomes divine. "God loves us," writes John to one of his directees, "that we might love b~ means of the very love he bears toward us" (Letter 33). Embodied in this statement is John's third hope foi" human growth, authentic love. It is not enough to love what is good and to'avoid what is evil. An investment must be made of all that is truly human. Every passion, e~,ery hope, must be purified and directed toward the Lord of all ~reation. John admonishes 'the spiritual person to Rejoice only in what is purely for God's honor and glory, hope for nothing else, feel sorrow only about matters pertaining to this, and fear only God (A 3, 16, 2). Joy,, hope, sorrow; and fear are worthy of human attention only insofar as they are bound to God. "My every act is love,'? says the bride of the Spiritual Canticle. "Everything I do, I do with love, and everything I suffer, .I suffer with the delight of love" (C 28, 4). Authentic love immerses the total person in a self-effacing commitment. One loves with one's bodyand with one's spirit, with emotions as well as intellect. The will seeks only to love with the love of God, to "reach the consummation of the love of God" and the "essential glory to which he predestined her from the day of his eternity." (C 38, 2). In reflecting the gift of the whole person, authentic love brings the sensitive and the spiritual parts of the person into conformity with each other. The "sensory faculties ¯ ~.'. share in and enj6y in their own fashion the spiritual grandeurs which God is communicating 'in the inwardness of the spirit" (C 40, 5). To refer 344 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/3 once again to the quality of aged wine or old lovers, individual elements intermingle to become essentially one creation, new and ever fulfilling. Union with the Beloved requires stillness, simplicity, and authentic love. Consummation of that union requires an intimate knowledge of Christ the Word. "Fasten your eyes on him alone," instructs God the Father, "because in him I have spoken and revealed all, and in him you shall discover even more than you ask for and desire" (A 2, 22, 5). Left to his own, the human person cannot know God. Echoing the words of the prophet Isaiah~ his eyes have never even seen the things that God wills for him. Christ came to reveal to mankind the Father. It was in his humanity, in his life of human joys and disappointments and hopes and pain that Jesus calls us to our human perfection. "I have now called you my friends," he says, "because all that I have heard from my Father I have manifested to you" (Jn 15:15, see C 28, 1). To imitate Jesus in all that one does is John of the Cross' teaching; to live with Jesus in union with the Father is his hope. Even though this happy night darkens the spirit, it does so only to impart light concerning all things: and even though it humbles a person and reveals his miseries, it does so only to exalt him; and even though it impoverishes him and empties him of all possessions and natural affection, it does so only that he may reach out divinely to the enjoyment of all earthly and heavenly things, with a general freedom of spirit in them all (N 2, 9, 1). Do not seek Christ without the cross, John writes; let Jesus be in your soul (Letters 22 & 23). It is Jesus who is the true wine of life. He is the one who brings the person to intimate knowledge of Father-care and Spirit-love. The wine cellar is .the last and most intimate degree of love in which the soul can be placed in this life (C 26, 3). It is filled, relates John, with the gifts of the Holy Spirit in perfection "according to the soul's capacity for receiv-ing them." Even here the gentleness of the all-consuming God allows for differences in the human personality, and brings to each person those gifts that will best fulfill him. Bridegroom and bride "mutually communicate their goods and delights with a wine of savory love in the Holy Spirit" (C 30, 1). How gently and lovingly You wake in my heart, Where in secret you dwell alone; And by your sweet breathing, Filled with good and glory, How tenderly you swell my heart with love! (Living Flame, stanza 4) It begins with God. God reaches down, takes your hand, and guides you along the way to-a place of ineffable love. He teaches you to be still and to await his touch. He strips you of all that is not himself. He draws forth love that is like his own. He gifts you'with the life of Jesus his Son. There are Old Wine and Old Lovers: Hope in John of the Cross 345 two kinds of life according to John of the Cross. One consists in the v~sion of God, which must be attained by natural death; "the other is the perfect spiritual life, the possession of God through union of love" (F 2, 32). This union is John's ultimate hope for the human personality--total transforma-tion in the immense love of the Triune God. REPRINTS FROM THE REVIEW "A Method for Eliminating Method in Prayer," H. F. Smith, S.J . 30 "An Apostolic Spirituality for the Ministry of Social Justice," M. Oliva, S.J . 50 "Celibate Genitality," W. F. Kraft . 50 ¯ "Celibacy and Contemplation," D. Dennehy, S.J . "i. ¯ .30 "Colloquy of God with a Soul that Truly Seeks Him" . . 30 "Consciousness Examen," G. A. Aschenbrenner, S.J . 50 "Hidden in Jesus Before the Father," G. A. Aschenbrenner, S.J . 50 "Institutional Business Administration & Religious," Flanagan and O'Connor . 30 "Instruction on the Renewal of Religious Formation" S.C. for Religious . 35 "Prayer of Personal Reminiscence," D. J. Hassell S.J . 60 "Profile of the Spirit: A Theology of Discernment of Spirits," J. R. Sheets, S.J . 50 "Psychosexual Maturity in Celibate Development," P. Cristantiello . 60 "Retirement or Vigii," B. Ashley, O.P . 30 "The 'Active-Contemplative' Problem," D. M. Knight .75 "The Contemporary Spirituality of the Monastic Lectio," M. Neuman, O.S.B . 50 "The Four Moments of Prayer," J. R. Sheets, S.J . 50 "The Healing of Memories," F. Martin . . . 35 "The Nature and Value of a Directed Retreat," H. F. Smith, S.J . 35 Orders for the above should be sent to: Review for Religious Room 428 3601 Lindeli Blvd. St. Louis, MO 63108 St. Teresa on Demonic Deception and Mystical Experience Francis X. J. Coleman Dr. Coleman is Associate P~'ofessor of Philosophy at Boston University; 745 Commonwealth ¯ Ave.; Boston, MA 02215. When picturing Christfin the way I have mentioned, and sometimes even while reading, I used to experience a consciousness of the presence of God of such a kind that I could not possibly dotibt that He was within me or that 1 wgs wholly engulfed in Him? On September 27, 1970, Pope Paul VI conferred the title of Doctor of the Church on St. Teresa of Avila, thereby placing her in the ranks of such giants as St. Augustine and St. Thomas Aquinas. In his homily delivered at St. Peter'.s Basilica," the pope. spoke of Teresa as "the reformer and founder of an historic and eminent religious order,'~ a prolific writer of great genius, teacher of the spiritual life, an incomparable contemplative who was tire-lessly active." The pope went on to speak of "the holiness of her life. a value which was already officially proclaimed as early as March 12, 1622---St. Teresa died 30 years before--by our predecessor Gregory XV." The pope enquired concerning the source of Teresa's doctrine: :'And we might mention another particular point, the charism of wisdom, which ~AII quotations from St. Teresa's writings are drawn I~rom The Complete Works of Saint Teresa of Jesus, tr. and ed., E. Allison Peers, from the critical.edition of P. Silverio de Santa Teresa, O.C.D. (Sheed and Ward, London and New York: 1950). This citation is from Life, chapt. X. 2The Italian text is in L'Osservatore Romano, Sept. 29, 1970. 3He is referring to the Order of Discalced Carmelites. 346 St. Teresa on Demonic Deception and Mystical Experience / 347 makes us think of the most attractive and at the same time most myst, erious aspect of St. Teresa's title of Doctor: the flow of divine inspiration in this prodigious and mystical writer. From where did the wealth of her do°ctrine come to Teresa?" ~ After mentioning Teresa's cultural and spiritual education, her conver-sations with great masters of theology, her singular sensibility and ascetic discipline, pope Paul asked whether ther~e was not another sourc~ of her "eminent doctrine: . Ought we not re~zognize in St. Teresa acts, facts and states which did not come from her but were undergone by her, things both endured and suffered, mystical things in the" t'rue sense of the word. '~" Pope Paul was sensitive to the grea~t difficulties involved in mystical experience: "'The originality of mystic'ai.adtion is one of the'most delicate and complex of psychological phenomena. Many factors can play a part in ~t, and they oblige the observer to rnaint~ain the severest caution," though he went on to imply that there are som+ who would deny the very possibility of mystical experience itself: ". 15sychoS_nalytic exploration is breaking down that frail and complicated instrument that we are, in such a way that all that can be heard is not the sound~i~f mankind in its sufferin~ and its redemption, but rather the troubled h~utterings of man's animal subcon-scious, the cries of his "disordered passions and of his desperate anguish." What, .then, were the "'acts, facts and states" which did not' originate from Teresa but "were undergone by her"? What are "mystical things in the true sense of the word," according to the first woman doctor of the Church? In this paper i shall attempt some.'answer to these questions. In the first part I shall give a broad survey of the varieties of mystical data to be found in Teresa's writings. These data fall into three main categories: locutions, visions and ecstasies. Then I shall describe how Teresa first reacted to her experiences, what was her reflective doctrine con~zeining the methods of distinguishing demonic deception and/or self-decepti~)n from authentic mystical experience. Next I shall turn to a contemporary of Teresa who recorded his own thoughts concern'ing the supposedly super-natural events in her life. And, finally and ver~;'briefly, I shall attempt a tentative conclusion regarding her value and a method of approaching her .for readers of today. Before beginning,' however, 1 believe it is essential to define the proper place of mystical experience within the Catholic faith. When my,stical ex.pe-rience is construed as some merely private revelation, or when it is con-strued to be irrational, insidious errors inevitably ensue, both of a doctrinal and of a personal sort. Mystical experience must never be pitted against rationality; on the contrary, the immediate experience of the infinite and the transcendent is the ultimate expression of rationality. And, when mystical experience does entail privaie revelation, the sin of pride is always lurking: the mystic may affirm propositions at variance with the traditional and authoritative teachings of the Church, and contumacy is quick to follow. 341~ / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/3 As a highly intelligent woman, St. Teresa was aware of how readily people deceive themselves. She knew that there is a special temptation for religious.to delude themselves into believing ttiemselves to be the chosen recipients of some particular revelation. She was especially suspicious of the Alumbrados, or llluminists.,., The Alumbrados were in.many ways the sixteenth-century counterparts of some types of charismatics and other seekers of special gifts in our own day. The Alumbrados were not a sect of Catholicism, but rather a collective term for small groups of priests and lay persons who practiced what they thought to be a new and interior form of Christianity. Opposed to cere-monial liturgical celebration, t.hey placed much emphasis on mental prayer, in the course of which it was assumed that the mind would be subject to a "kindling," a "spiritual flight towards God." Such experiences led to confidence in one's own salvation, the shedding of all fear. In this there were dangerous resemblances to some. contemporary forms of Luther-anism. Moreover, such experience, s were indications of the possession of the state of grace, and the absolute exclusion of sin. Teresa's suspicions stemmed not only from the taint of heresy in their doctrines, but also because the Alumbrados were publically extravagant, laying claim to direct access to the Holy Spirit. To Teresa, the ecstasies and visions of the Alumbrados were either unintentional self-deceptions or intentional deceptions wrought by others upon the hapless victims. Teresa knew, and heard of, nuns who had worked themselves into states that resembled mystical,experience by excessive abuses in the area of penances, with consequent deterioration of their health. In our own day, we know that so-called "hallucinogenic" drugs of various sorts have been used even delibera.tely to replicate the behavioral and bodily manifestations of mys-tical experience. But the result, then as now, is counterfeit. Teresa confesses that she had been influenced by the Alumbrados when she was twenty years of age and had read Fray Osuna. Yet, as her thought and her mystical theology mature, she places less and I~ss emphasis on the sensuous details of her mystical experiences, and more and more weight upon the ineffable and analogical knowledge that is part of such experience, The earliest vision described by Teresa occurred when she was about twenty-one years of age. It must be borne in mind, however, that the description appears in Chapter VII of her Life, the rough draught of which she completed when she was forty-seven years old. Teresa confesses that she had a friendship with a certain woman which was "not good" for her. Although Teresa does not go into details, she states that "Christ revealed himself to me, in an attitude of great sternness, and showed me what was in this that displeased him. I saw him with the eyes of the soul more clearly than I could ever have seen him with those of the body . ,,4 In Chapter X ofherLife, Teresa distinguishes the sort of experience just ~Life, chapt. Vll. St. Teresa on Demonic Deception and Mystical Experience / 349 described from the one that she describes as a suspension of the soul. She complains of her imagination, i.e., the ability to conjure up at will a mental image or picture of someone or something, that it was so feeble that if she did not actually see a thing, she could not use her imagination "as other people do, who can make pictures to themselves . "~ Teresa was conse-quently very fond of images and pictures. Although she tried to imagine Christ inwardly, no matter how much she read about him, she could never succeed. She compared herself to a blind person who knows he is talking to some6ne but cannot see him. "I used unexpectedly to experience a consciousness of the presence of God, of such a kind that I could~not possibly doubt that he was within me or that l was wholly engulfed in him.: This was in no sense a vision: I believe it is called mystical theology.''6 Teresa's description of this experience of"divine engulfment" may well have been deformed by the lapse of some twenty-five years when she wrote about it. At any rate, she does not want to call"such an experience a "vision" because the soul does not "see~' anything. "The soul is sus-l~ ended in such a way that it seems to be completely outside itself. Th~ will loves; the memory, I think, is almost lost; while the understanding, I be-lieve, though it is not lost, does not reason--I mean that it does not work, but is amazed at the extent of all it can understand . ,,7 Teresa's "visions," then, do not become rich and graphic until much later in her Life, beginning in Chapter XXXI. Even these, though, were not had by the bodily eye: they were not in a~ny sense objective, shareable, "out there." But neither did the visions consist in a series of merely mental images, for Teresa complains often of her extremely feeble eidetic imagina-tion. She describes these visions as "inward disturbances" and finds it impossible not to detect in them the hand of the devil.~ Teresa felt herself powerless to resist the devil at such times. She felt interior disquiet, but was afraid to ask the other nuns to assist her through the use of holy water (she had learned "from long experience''9 that holy water is the best method to put devils to flight). In one of her most dramatic and painterly visions,;Teresa beheld, while in a state of rapture, a great battle between devils and angels. At the time, she could not understandthe meaning of the vision. A fortnight later, she saw that it was an allegory of nuns, those who did not practice prayer, and those who did.~° In 1559, shortly before the decision to found her first convent~ Teresa had a vision which carried her spirit to a place in .hell. Her description assails each of the senses: "evil-smelling mud," "wicked-looking reptiles," and a claustrophobic sense of containment: "There was a hollow place scooped out of a wall, like a cupbgard, and it was here that I found myself 5Complete Works, I, p. 55. 8Ibid., p. 204. 61bid., p. 58. Slbid., p. 207. 7lbid. 1°Ibid., pp. 208-9. $$0 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/3 in clos%confinement.''n She suffered from "an oppression, a suffocation and an affliction so deeply felt, and accompanied by such hopeless and distressing misery''t=' that she could not describe it too strongly. Worse than the physical pains were the pains of despair and "interior fires." She felt herself being both burned and dismembered. She was stifled. She found herself in the blackest darkness, .yet she was able to "see everything the sight of which can cause affliction.''t'~ This vision must have occurred when Teresa was about forty-one. When she compared it to the terrible and painful paralysis which struck her at the age of seventeen, she~concluded that the vision of hell was incom-parably more painful. The vision "happened in the briefest space of time."14 Sometimes Teresa's visions were of holy persons who came through such visitations to give her advice. St. Peter of Alcantara, for example, a reformer of the Franciscan Order during the Counter-Reformation, ap-peared to her in a vision to reconfirm his admonition that her convents must not be permitted endowments)5 At other times, Teresa had visions of a dove fluttering over her head, albeit the dove was very different from those one sees on earth: ¯. for it had not feathers like theirs, but its wings were made of little shells which emitted a great brilliance. It was larger than a dove: 1 seem to hear the rustling of its wings. It mu~;t have been fluttering like this for the space of an Ave Maria. But my soul was in such a state that, as it became lost to itself, it also lost sight of the dove.16 According to Teresa's own testimony, the most sublime vision that she ever experienced recurred on four occasions. It involved seeing the Humanity of Christ in a greater glory than she had ever known. Teresa seemed to see herself in the presence of the Godhead.17 The vision, and its recurrences, had the effect of purifying her soul and almost destroying her sensual nature. Using one of her favorite images, that of a consuming fire, Teresa writes .that the vision, through excess, burnt up all her desires for vain things, such as worldly possessions and dignities. The vision made her hair stand on end, causing her "to feel completely annihilated.''is Once, when she was to communicate at-Mass, Teresa saw "with the eyes of the soul, more clearly than ever I could with those of the body, two devils of most hideous aspect,''19 who seemed to have their horns around the priest's throat while heconsecrated. Teresa understood that the priest's soul was in morthl sin, yet this fact did not invalidate the Sacrament. Although she makes no explicit reference to it, this vision gave to Teresa a direct, experiential disproof.of the Donatist heresy. Teresa wryly commented, after describing one vision with elaborate ltl'bid., pp. 215-16. ~';lbid., p. 281. rZlbid., p. 216. t:~lbid. 171bid., p. 273¯ ~lbid., p. 274: ~41bid., p. 215. ~91bid., p. 275. ~lbid., p. 257. St. Teresa on Demonic Deception and Mystical Experience / 351 ~ detail, one which was thronged with figures of angels and demons,"° that she does not mind writing all sorts of nonsense provided that she can write sense sometimes, and :bring people closer to God. In regard to the vision just:described, she says that it "will seem meaningless" until it. is seen as an allegory of the teaching that one should not put much trust in anyone, for there is none who never changes except God."~ ~Teresa's visionscan be of an extraordinarily"personal nature. In her Spiritual Relations, Teresa recounts how Christ revealed himself to her "in an imaginary vision, most interiorly," and gave her his right hand, saying, "Behold this nail. It is a sign that from today onward'thou shalt .be my bride . My honor is thine, and thine mine.'.'zz Later in the same work she describes how he gave her a beautiful rihg.with a stone like an amethyst, only brighter, as a pledge that he promised to grant all that she asked him. Yet Teresa quickly breaks off this account with, "1 write this foolish-heSS . ,,23 Even though the imaginary visions ceasedtowards the end of her'life, Teresa was still able to write a year before her °death, from Palencia, in the year 1581, that she still seems to experiencethe intellectual vision of the Three Persons of the Trinity and of Christ's humanity. She states very simply: "I realize now, I think, that the visions which 1 have had were of God, for they prepared my soul for the state in which it now is.'''4 I shall give a much briefer description of Teresa's locutions, mainly because she does so herself, even though they are no less important than her visions. Teresa speaks of her first locution in Chapter XIX of her Life. Finding that many of her sisters were only peripherally religious, Teresa wondered why so few of them.had a true calling, as she believed herself to have. Teresa heard: "Serve thou Me, and meddle not with this.''25 Later, at the age of 42, filled with self-doubt as well as doubts concerning certain friendships, Teresa, at the direction of P. Baltasar Alvarez, recited the hymn Veni Creator. She hea?d the words: "I will have thee converse now, not with men, but with angels.''2" Her locutions are usually brief but always of translucent clarity and distinctness. "Be not troubled; have no fear,"~r or, "1 have heard you; let Me alone.''2s Sometimes they are of a practical nature: "What dost thou fear? When have 1 ever failed thee? I am the same nowas I have always been. Do not give up either of these two foundations,' ,29 or simply, "That is the house for thee.'''~° And sometimes intensely familiar: "Now, Teresa, hold thou fast.''z~ The locutions sometimes seem condescending: "Thou wilt act very 2°lbid., p. 286. 261bid., p. 155. 211bid., p. 287. Z7lbid., p. 200. 2Zlbid., p. 352. ~Slbid., I1!, p. 130. Zalbid,, p. 353. 2~lbid., p. 167. 24lbid., p. 335. Z°lbid., p. 171. ZSlbid., p. !15. ~lbid., p. 194. 352 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/3 foolishly, daughter, if thou regardest the laws of the world. Fix thine eyes on Me . ":~" Sometimes the locutions instructed her~ why she must not have further raptures in public: "It is not fitting just now. Thou hast as much credit as I desire thee to have . 1 shall cite only one example of Teresa's ecstasies, because this well-known ecstasy suffices. Teresa's own description of the transverberation of her heart occurs in Chapter XXIX of her Life. The ecstasy and vision occurred throughout several days. On her left hand, an angel in bodily form, rather short and beautiful, appeared:with a long, golden spear in his hands. At the end of the iron tip was what seemed like a point of fire. The angel "seemed to pierce my heart several times so that it penetrated to my entrails. When he drew it out, I thought he was drawing them out with it and he left me completely afire, with a great love of God.":~4 II It should not be surprising that when Teresa began telling friends and confessors about such extraordinary events, some persons were certain that she was. possessed,by the devil and should be exorcised?'~ Exorcism was as common, and believed to be as efficacious, in sixteenth-century Spain, as psychoanalysis is in twentieth-century America. In their later lives both St. Teresa and St.: John of the Cross were well known for their prowess in exorcising evil spirits. Teresa, however, was herself never exor-cised. Instead, her confessors commanded her to make the Sign of the Cross whenever she had a vision,, and then to make a sign~ of contempt?~ At one point in her life Teresa herself was afraid that all her spiritual favors might be illusions?7 We know from~a deposition taken from Teresa's niece that Teresa was greatly distressedl when her raptures came upon her in public, and embarrassed when she had to confess her spiritual favors to her confessors.an Teresa had a keen eye for religious fraud and excess. She writes that women are especially susceptible to ruining their health because of exces-sive prayer; ~igils and severe penances. Such women become frail and languorous, falling into stupors which they deceive themselves into think-ing are spiritual?9 She knew that many supposedly religious raptures were nothing but the result of inanition or bad health?° In her own convents, she 321bid., I, p. 338. 33lbid., p. 339. ¯ ~lbid., pp. 192-93. ~lbid., p. 188. a6See ibid., p. 165, n. 3 for the nature of this contemptuous motion. a71bid., p. 287. aSlbid., Ill, p. 366. The niece, also nam.ed Teresa de Jesus, was born in Quito, in present-day Ecuador, in 1566. a9lbid., II, pp. 245-46. For other spiritual excesses condemned by Teresa, see Gerald Brenan, St. John of the Cross, Cambridge University Press, 1973, pp. 16-18. ~°lbid. St. Teresa on Demonic Deception and Mystical Experience / 353 made certain that the sisters received adequate food and rest. Teresa could be as detached and objective about her spiritual favors as if they had been granted to someone else. Writing in the third person in the ' Spiritual Relations, Teresa begins by saying "It is forty years since this nun took the habit . ,,4~ Turning to the subject of her "supernatural visita-tions," as she calls them, Teresa writes in a matter-of-fact way: She never saw anything with her bodily eyes, as has been said, but always in such a sul~tle, intellectual way that at first she would sometimes think she had imagined it, though at other times she could not think so. Nor did she even hear anything with her bodily ears, except on two occasions, and on these occasions she could make nothing of what was said and did not know what it was all about.42 Without mentioning Pelagianism, Teresa nonetheless reveals a knowl-edge of that heresy and rejects it as an explanation of her rare experiences: The soul collects wood and does all it can by itself, but finds no way of kindling the fire of the love of God. It is only by his great mercy that the smoke can be seen, which shows that the fire is not altogether dead. ]'hen the Lord comes back and kindles it, for the soul is driving itself crazy with blowing on the fire and rearing the fire more and more. I believe the best thing is for the soul to be completely resigned to the fact that of itself it can do nothing, and busy itself, as I have already suggested, in other meritorious activities, for the Lord may perhaps be depriving it of the power to pray, precisely so that it may engage in these other activities and learn by experience how little it can do of itself.4'~ Regarding the imagination,Teresa argues that it can only recombine what the mind has already experienced, and that it is prey not only to the devil but also to emotions such as melancholy. To affirm or deny anything on the basis of the imagination is invariably to be misled. Teresa concludes that because her visions do not consist of mental images, her imagination or fancy is not the source of her spiritual experiences. Although the devil can give pleasures and delights which might seem spiritual, they are inevitably disruptive of the soul's quiet. The devil might present himself to the imagination in the likeness of Christ, but the mere fact that the devil is making use of the imagination proves that he is bent on deceiving. In a true vision of Christ, he is surrounded in glory; but glory cannot possibly be counterfeited by the imagination because it is a kind of intellectually perceived aura. ~2onsequently, the most that the devil can counterfeit is the flesh.4~ But since God will never give the devil the power to feign his glory--for this would involve the impossible, i.e., divine abdication--the devil can deceive no one when he assumes the likeness of Christ, unless one is willing to be deceived. Teresa calls the devil "a skillful painter.''~'~ But just as a very wicked man might paint a beautiful painting, and one that has good effects, so, too, the devil might conjure up a beautiful image from which one might profit. 411bid., IIl, p. 319. 4~lbid., I, pp. 324-25. "~albid., pp. 264-65. 441bid., pp. 182-83. 451bid., 111, p. 41. 354 /Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/3 "We should never allow the identity of the painter to hinder our devo-tion." 46 Similarly, a vision is not good or evil in itself, but in its effects upon the person who has it. Humility~ is essential to drawing profit from a vision: if the vision is of God, but the person who receives it lacks humility, then the vision is wasted; if the vision is from the devil, and the person lacks humility, he will be misled and become even more swollen with pride. Again, although the devil can give delight, he can never conjoin extreme physical or mental pain with tranquillity and joy in the soul. Both the pains and the pleasures caused by the devil necessarily bring restlessness and discord. "Secondly, this delectable tempest comes from another region than those over which he has authority.''47 And thirdly, pain and suffering in which the soul takes delight make one all the more determined to serve God and renounce the ephemeral pleasures of this world. True visions have a clarity and distinctness which prove that they could not be produced either by anything corporeal, or by one's own imagination, or by the devil. If one has any doubts whether or not one has experienced .a true vision, then one can be sure that the vision was spurious. When Teresa had her first mystical experiences, she did not doubt whether they were genuine, but she greatly doubted and feared what other people would say. A genuine vision comes when it is least expected. The content .is no more and no less than what appears to the person having the vision. One of Teresa's confessors tried to force her to fill out the description of Christ, in view of her claim that she had seen him. Teresa replied that when she tried to see the color of his eyes or how tall he was, the vision vanished. One can always be asked to add to a description of something in the phenomenal world; but if a certain quality is not given in a vision--e.g., the Color of Christ's eyes, then the assumption that the quality was in the vision but unobserved is a categorical mistake. The final criterion of a genuine vision is the great peace and tranquillity ¯ produced by it, coupled with a strengthening of one's moral fiber.4s Physical concomitants are also frequent: the soul faints away in a manner which one cannot resist. But these physical repercussions are of relatively minor significance. It seems as if my life is about to end, and this makes me cry aloud and call upon God: this comes upon me with great vehemence. Sometimes it makes me so restless that I cannot remain seated and this trouble attacks me without my havir~g done anything to bring it on . For Ifrom my yearnings] there can be no relief; the only relief for them is the vision of God, which comes through death,, and this 1 cannot obtaih of Him.4~ Much of'what has already been said concerning the differences between authentic and spurious visions also applies to locutions. A few points, 461bid. "~rlbid., II, p. 278. 48lbid., 1, pp. 262-63; il, pp. 296-97. 46lbid., !, p. 306. St. Teresa on Demonic Deception and Mystical Experience however, should be emphasized. Although clear and distinct, the words of a locution are not heard with the bodily ear; they are more strongly im-pressed upon the understanding than if they were so heard. When one does not want to hear something, one can close one's ears or attend to something else; "But~when God talks in this way to the soul, there is no such remedy: I have to listen, whether I like it or no . -5o The locution is the unique object of one's attention, canceling out all else. Teresa is well aware that persons sometimes "talk" to themselves and deceive themselves into believing it to be some higher, spiritual force communicating with them. But no matter how subtle the locution might be., when the understanding has made up the words itself, one must know that the mind is active, rather than passive and receptive, as it is in genuine, locutions. Spurious locutions always lack the clarity and distinctness of those from God; moreover, one always has the power to divert one's attention from self-spoken locutions. Lastly; counterfeit Io~:utions are empty vocables, effecting nothing. Gen-uine locutions, even if they are of reproof, prepare and move the soul towards greater love, and "give it light and make it happy and tranquil."5~ Sometimes locutions are so lengthy, even though they come in a flash, that one knows that it would have (aken a long time to make them up oneself. ' Teresa argues that one would have to court deception in order to be deceived about~ the true provenance of a locution.5~ Of course one may pretend to having heard a locution, and lie about its contents, but, then, one may lieabout .anything. Divine locutions "instruct us at once, without any lapse of time, 'and by their means we can understand things which it would probably take us a month to makeup ourselves.''5'~ Demonic locutions have only bad effects, and leave one ina state of aridity and. anguish. Teresa is emphatic on the point that no privately heard locution can be contrary to the publicly enunciated doctrine of the Church. If any locution is at variance with Holy Scripture or the teachings of the Church, it must be. from the devil or from one's own self-conceit.54 There emerge, then, three types of locutions: (1) those which are heard by the corporeal sense of hearing; (2) those which are received by the imagination alone but which give the impression of having been heard by the sense of hearing; and (3) those from God, which involve neither sound nor'voice, and which leave an indubitable, fecund, unforgettable and clear concept in: the depths of the spirit. Teresa recommends that anyone who seriously believes he hears locutions of the first two types should be treated like a sick person. He should be advised to pay no heed to the matter: "One: should humor such people so as not 'to distress them further. If one tells 5°Ibid., p. 157. 5llbid., p. 158. 521bid., p. 159. ~lbid., pp. 159-60. 541bid., p. 161. 3*$6 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/3 them they are suffer.ing from melancholy, there will be no end to it. They will simply swear they see and hear things, and really believe that they do."55 Teresa casts the same clinical eye on nuns who fall into swoons and call them raptures. Such women are of a physically debilitated nature and given to melancholy. Their swoons may last for hours, but nothing productive comes from them. Although swoons and ecstasies may seem alike in some aspects, they are profoundly different. Ecstasy or rapture, which involves the union of all the faculties, is wont to last a very short time. The.soul is enlightened and spiritual effects are produced.56 Rapture is the sign of spiritual betrothal, carrying the soul out of its senses. Sometimes rapture is brought about by God's having compassion on someone who is not actually praying, but "is struck by some word, which it either remembers or hears spoken by God.' ,57 The faculties, as well as the senses, cease to function; nonetheless, God reveals his majesty to the soul. "When the soul is in this state of suspension and the Lord sees fit to reveal to it certain mysteries, such as heavenly things and imaginary visions, it is able subsequently to describe these . ,,~8 But if the visions in the rapture are intellectual, they cannot be described in any earthly terms.5a Yet in the same breath Teresa says: "although after regaining possession of their senses they can often describe many of these intellectual visions.' ,60 Teresa is immediately aware that she is contradicting herself. She tries to get out of the difficulty by saying that Jacob was in a rapture when he had the imaginary vision of the ladder, but he undoubtedly understood greater mysteries and had an intellectual vision which he could only describe in part.61 Similarly, Moses, in his rapture before the burning bush, could describe some of what he saw, but not all; yet Moses must have been impressed with great and ineffable secrets, otherwise he could never have done what he did for the people of Israel.6'-' After an elaborate comparison between seeing the private apartment of a great lord for a few minutes, and God suddenly revealing the vastness of his secrets to the ~oul in ecstasy, Teresa grows impatient with herself and asks, "Is this tantamount to an admission on my part that lthe soul] has really seen something and that this is an imaginary vision?''6~ She wants to be speaking of intellectual visions, and we have already observed how suspicious she is of the imagination. Teresa gets angry with herself: ". I have no learning and am too stupid to explain anything . -64 She characteristically changes the subject, gives a prayer and a few admonitions,.then returns to one of the central themes of,the Interior Castle: the nature of rapture. She describes some of the physical signs: The hands and body grow cold,.breathing ceases, the senses 551bid., II, pp. 279-80. "°lbid. 5nlbid., llI, pp. 27-28. ~lSee Gn 28,12. ~rlbid. "2See Ex 3,2. ~81bid., I1, p. 288. ~Op. cir., 11, p. 289. 5albid. ~41bid., p. 290. St. Teresa on Demonic Deception and Mystical Experience no longer function. The ecstasy lasts for only a short period of time, then the bodily functions gradually resume while the "profound suspension liftS a little.''~5 For days thereafter, the person might wander about in a stupor, uninterested in anything that does not awaken the faculty of the will to love. The ultimate result of such an ecstasy is good: to work harder for the glory of God. But when Teresa returns to the philosophic problem of describing the nature of rapture, she writes: "To give a full idea of it . . . is impos-sible.""~ Teresa describes another sort of rapture which, though substantially the same as the one described above, causes the soul to become conscious of an exceedingly rapid motion, while the spirit is transported with great speed. Resistance is impossible, even though the person remains in com-plete possession of his senses. To resist only makes the transport more perturbing. One feels as though one is in another world, where the light is. brighter and of a different kind than the brightest sunlight. "In a single instant he is taught so many things all at once that, if he were to labor for years on end in trying to fit them all into his imagination and thought, he could not succeed with a thousandth part of them.''~r When the soul returns from this high transport, "to live on earth is a great affliction to it . That the rapture was caused by God's agency is proved by three effects: (1) a greater consciousness of the greatness of God; (2) a more deeply felt humility and sense of unworthiness; and (3) a supreme contempt for earthly things. Conversely, one might add, if the rapture were caused by a satanic agency, the effects would be greater contumacy, overweening pride and heightened greed. In rapture the body "remains as if dead and unable of itself to do anything: it continues all the time as it was when the rapture came upon it, "in a sitting position, for example, or with the hands open or shut.''69 One rarely loses consciousness altogether. One can still hear and understand, but only dimly: When the faculties are lost through being united to God, and the soul is transformed, one reaches the peak of the rapture. When the soul is thus in union, neither visions nor locutions can occur, because the facul-ties are wholly lost.r° In the Spiritual Relations Teresa gives a long descrip-tion of union, from which I quote a part: I understand that the spirit in union is pure and lifted up above everything earthly, and that there is nothing remaining in it that will depart from the will of God, but that the spirit and the will are in conformity with his will, and detached from everything, and occupied in God so as to leave no recollection of love of self or of any created thing,r~ II1 How did Teresa's contemporaries react to her descriptions of these rare ~51bid., p. 291. ~lbid., p. 292. ~91bid., I, p. 125. 671bid., p. 295. 7°lbid., p. 158. S8lbid., p. 296. 7~lbid., p. 348. 358 /Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/3 ¯ phenomena? I shall restrict myself to one contemporary, P. Pedro Ibanez, who commanded Teresa to write her Life. A Dominican, Ibanez was easily the most articulate and perceptive of Teresa's first commentators. In a statement written between 1562 and 1564, Ibanez explains that those who believed Teresa to be suffering from deception had excellent reasons for believing so.7z He gives five such reasons: 1. Good judgment requires that we judge in light of what normally happens; and normally, people who have claimed to be the recipients of locutions and revelations were deceived, lbanez sees fit to add: "These deceptions come principally to women, and very seldom tO men."r'~ 2. In trying to ascertain the truth in any matter, we must take the judgments of the experts as definitive, e.g,, we must consult theologians in questions of theology and captains in matters of war~ The saints have always taught that very few revelations can be accepted as ,genuine. Some saints have gone so far as to repudiate all private revelations, arguing that their faith is sufficiently strong without them. When so many visions and apparitions occur to one nun, the legitimacy of all or most ot~ them is highly improbable. 3. If Teresa~s visions were gen-uine, then they must be counted as miracles; but miracles are performed "in cases of great necessity,''74 and in order to confirm the Faith. Neither of these grounds for miracles applies to an enclosed nun. 4. Saints who have been granted supernatural favors always strive to conceal them, both out of the belief that God would deprive them of the favors if they made them public, and as a sign of humility. Teresa made her "favors" only too well known: she described them to a great number of confessors and lay per-sons, and wrote about them in all of her works. 5. The devil is the cleverest of all deceivers because he mixes so much truth with his falsehoods. It is most likely that Teresa's experiences were the work of the devil. Although Ibanez concedes that these reasons have great weight, he ~.nonetheless counters that some things considered by themselves seem bad, but "if some circumstances be taken into account, seem quite holy and virtuous.''r5 His example is the familiar one from Plato: taking someone's property is wrong, but if it is added that the thing was taken from its owner in order to prevent him from killing himself or someone else, then it is right. Ibanez's defense of the genuineness of Teresa's visions rests ultimately upon the following premise: We have also to consider that there has never been a time in the world when there have hot,been certain persons with whom our Lord has been on very familiar terms and to whom His Majesty has expounded and revealed many secret things which he has determined to do . In some ages there will be more of these than in others, but there will always be some, and as a rule they will be men given to prayer, contempla-tion and quiet~r6 721bid., 111, pp. 313-333. r~ibid., p. 317. ralbid., p. 316¯ r61bid., p. 318. ralbid. St. Teresa on Demonic Deception and Mystical Experience / 359 Invoking God's providential care of his Church, and alluding to the threats of the Lutherans, Ibanez claims a historical necessity for'the exis-tence of certain intermediaries between the world and the supernatural. Moreover, the fact that a person lives "in great Christian perfection" is a very relevant argument in favor of the genuineness of certain revelations. Even though complete ce~'tainty concerning the genuineness of revela-tions is impossible, there are "some ways and means which are very sure.''7~ In general, the tree i~ known by its fruit,just as physicians diagnose a disease by its effects. Given that revelations and visions must be either true and good or false and bad, a true vision must partake of the qualities of God,. and a false vision must show" signs of the wiles and subtleties used by the devil.''7s Ibanez gives eleven rules for distinguishing true from false visions: 1. Visions from God must produce a sense of humility and unworthiness; thosefrom the devil bring pride and a sense of self-importance. 2. Visions from God drive the recipient to shun the world 9,nd turn away from material things; those from the devil have the opposite effect. 3. Visions from God come only to those who are systematically give.n to prayer and who mani-fest a genuine love of God; the devil's chief aim is to entice one away from prayer and to suborn one's love of God. 4. Perso_ns who receive visions. from God invariably seek counsel from learned persons, holding nothing back from their confessors; persons receiving visions from the devil be-come furtive and self-opinionated. 5. Because scholastic theology is not sufficient to pronounce on the genuineness of mystical experiences, some- " one who believes that he is the recipient of such experiences must consult confessors who have personal experience of such things and who lead lives .~of great sanctity. 6. It is all the more likely that a person's visions are from God if he has patiently suffered all sorts of undeserved annoyances and tribulations. "Our Lord is not likely to reward our patience by sending us a delusion from the devil.''r9 7. If all of a person's confessors are convinced of his purity of conscience, then it is all the more likely that the revelations are of divine origin. 8. An empirical test is to ascertain how much help and spiritual profit people obtain from familiar converse with s.~ch a person. 9. The content of divine visions should be in complete conf6rmity with the Scriptures; demonic visions are replete with irrelevances, curiosities and thingsof little edification. 10. If none of a person's confessors detects any trace of vanity, then it is all the more certain that ~the experiences are genuine. Lastly, 11. The devil persecutes and torments the good, and ap-pears to them in a hideous form; but to persons whom the deyil has won over, his appearances are pleasant, and he cajoles and flatters them. Ibanez proceeds to apply each of these rules to Teresa. On the basis of 7rlbid., p. 319. 781bid. rSlbid., p. 324. 360 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/3 considerable documentary evidence, he proves that her experiences clearly pass each test. IV This is a difficult paper to conclude. One could of course change the entire mode and tenor of Teresa's experiences and delve into her medical history. As inte?esting as it might be to try to diagnose her early cataleptic seizures, her neurasthenia, and all the bodily, aches and ailments that she complained of throughout her life, I do not see how the content of her experiences can be reduced to physical causes. Of course one could attempt a psychoanalytic study of Teresa, examin-ing her very strong attachment to her father, her ambivalent friendships, her great attraction to Ft. Jeronimo, her self-flagellation and so on. But if one begins with the assumption that mystical experience is nothing but psy-chiatric disorder, Teresa's proper place is on the doctor's couch and not in the gloria so remarkably ~imbodied by Bernini. Again, one could fit Teresa's experiences into the long history of mys-ticism, drawing from Plotinus, Proclus, Dionysius the Pseudo-Areopagite, and many others. One could try to show how Teresa unconsciously drew on ancient Jewish, Sufistic or Hindu sources. All this would be fascinating to those who are interested in such things. Lastly, one is free to adopt William James' largely dismissive attitude expressed in The Varieties of Religiotts Experience: . confess that my only feeling in reading [Teresa] has been pity that so much vitality of soul should have found such poor employment.''~° James finds Teresa's reli-gious ideal "paltry. ,,81 But if the ideals expressed in the Interior Castle are paltry; I should lik~ to know which ideals may be called "high." It ig the conclusion of this article, however, that, in order to understand St. Teresa's descriptions of her experiences, one must construe them sym-bolically or analogically. When St. Thomas Aquinas addresses himself to the problem of speaking about God, given that no two beings are as unlike as the Creator and the created, he argues that language about God must be understood analogical-ly. In De Veritate, for example, St. Thomas reasons that there are only ¯ three ways in which one may predicate any term of a given subject: univ-ocally, equivocally, or analogously,sz He argues: "We must assert that we may not predicate anything univocally of the creature and God, for in univocal predication the intelligible nature that the name signifies is com-mon to each thing among those of which that name is predicated univocal-ly . Now,.no creature, regardless of how much it imitates God, can ever reach the point of having anything in common with God . We cannot say, 8°The Modern Library: New York, p. 339. 8~lbid. 8ZDe Ver., q. 2, a. 11. St. Teresa on Demonic Deception and Mystical Experience / 36"1 on the other hand, that whatever is predicated of God and creature is predicated purely equivocally, since, if no real likeness of creature to God existed, his essence would not be the likeness of creatures, and then he would not know creatures through knowing his own essence . "s'~ The conclusion, then, is that predication in reference to God can only be made analogously. In other words, if all language about God were equivocal, absolutely nothing could be said about God. The mystic's talk would necessarily be idle and utterly uninformative. His visions would have no substance or value. Yet mystics, as well as other religious people, feel driven to speak and to write about God. And they believe that their language has meaning. This language has to be interpreted, not literally, but analogously,s4 It is chiefly because readers, whether from their scepticism or their enthusiasm, mistakenly interpret St. Teresa's writings in either a univocal or an equiv-ocal fashion that this great saint's message to humanity is often misunder-stood and falsified. a31bid. a4See also ST, I, q. 13. Now Available As Reprint An Apostolic Spirituality for the Ministry of Social Justice by Max Oliva, S.J. Price: $.50 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 Principles of Asceticism Richard J. Hauser, S.J, Father Hauser is an associate professor in the department of theology at Creighton University, and is currently its chairman. He resides in the Jesuit Community of Creighton; 2500 Cali-fornia St.; Omaha, NE 68178. There is probably no area in spirituality more difficult to discuss than asceticism. For many of us the term relates primarily to Lenten practices of mortification. Most of us were relieved when the legislation was altered, and we abandoned fast and abstinence with little sense of loss. I believe there are two major reasons why we did not miss these practices. Increas-ingly the practice of mortification was not functional in our spiritual lives. Spiritual concerns were moving beyond the traditional spheres of prayer and asceticism and focusing more directly on service to others in the world. The relationship between mortification and service was not clear. Secondly, we were becoming uncomfortable with the assumptions un-derlying these practices regarding the body. The body was frequently seen only as a source of sin and so primarily a barrier to spiritual growth. It had to be repressed to be kept submissive. This assumption was incompatible with a general cultural awareness of the importance of the whole person, including the body and its feelings, for leading a happy life. These practices were also incompatible with the growing emphasis in Christian circles on the dignity of the total perso~n flowing from the indwelling of the Holy Spirit. This article attempts to spell out some general guidelines for a meaning-ful asceticism today, and then to present some practical principles of ascet-icism. In doing this it hopes to respond to the church's admonition .to all Christians to find a personally meaningful rhythm of asceticism to replace the strict system that had previously been legislated for all. 362 Principles of Asceticism / 363 Functional: Asceticism The first demand of a valid contemporary asceticism is that it be func-tional, that it foster the goals of Christian living. We are called to b~ like Christ. The Gospels present Jesus as totally dedicated to doing the Father's will in union with the Spirit. Imitating Christ, we, too, are called to do always the Father's will, and to do this with the power we have received from the Spirit of Jesus. We know from the theology of grace that :the Holy Spirit is our sanctifier and that we can make no movement toward God unless we are drawn to him by the Spirit. So if asceticism is to be functional it must promote living in tune with the Spirit. We will understand asceticism, then, as our efforts, prompted by the Spirit, to live and act always in union with the Spirit of Christ in order to know and do our Father's will. The practical challenge of a contemporary asceticism will be to establish regular rhythms in daily life that enable us to live in union with the Spirit. The general goal of all asceticism is to provide the conditions in daily life th~.t facilitate living in tune with the Spirit. But this goal must be brought down t0~ the level of the individual. Each Christian must ask the question: What is God's will for me? .How is God calling me to serve his people and his kingdom? This question is central, for no two of us have exactly the sam6 vocation from our Father. And the question must be asked on two levels. First, what is the state in life and particular occupation God is calling me to? And second, how is he leading me on a day-to-day basis to fulfill my particular calling? For example, in my own person, ! believe the Lord has called me to serve him as a Jesuit priest, and, within this state of life, to teach college theology. In addition I believe the Lord is leading me each day to mak~e decisions within this vocation that will be for his greater glory and service. To know and to respond continually and energetically to the Lord's calling demands that I live in touch with his Spirit. My personal ascetical challenge is to put patterns into my life that enable me to do this in a daily schedule that is already crowded with classes, counseling, meetings, study and research. My challenge will obviously be quite different from that of a housewife or a businessman. But the goal for all of us is the same: to know and to do our Father's will. And it is reached in the same way: by living in tune with the Spirit of Jesus. ~ We have been stressing the fact that ascetical°practices must be func-tional, related to doing the Father's will. But it is crucial to emphasize that asceticism is not concerned simply with developing life patterns aimed at the conscientious external performance of our various callings. The real challenge of asceticism is to develop life-rhythms that :facilitate an internal quality of heart that reflects the presence of the Holy Spirit during the performance of our duties. Paul gives us very concrete signs by which we .can recognize this presence: ". love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, trustfulness, gentleness, and self-control" (Ga 5,22). Meeting :364 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/3 this challenge is the most difficult aspect of asceticism. Most of us find it much easier simply to get our jobs done and not worry about our internal quality of heart--we all know the empty feeling of getting through a day and doing everything we were supposed to, but realizing at the end of the day that there was very little Iove,-joy,. or peace. Though we have ostensibly done God's will, we have not served the Lord well because we have not lived in tune with his Spirit. The difficulty of this challenge ought not be underestimated. There exist immense obstacles to its attainment both within and outside ourselves, and it is hard to say which are the more foreboding. We are aware of our own internal dividedness, our habitual tendency to serve ourselves only, rather than the Lord and others. And just as Paul gives us a list of the qualities of heart indicating the Spirit's presence; he also gives a list indicating the Spirit's absence: ". feuds and wrangling, jealousy, bad temper and quarrels; disagreements, factions, envy." (Ga 5, 20).And we also know .how regularly this internal dividedness is reinforced by our external situa-tion. We are continually moved away from a peaceful and loving service by the pressures of a busy schedule and anxieties from our work and personal problems. So from the very beginning the Christian who is concerned with totally loving and serving the Lord must acknowledge that the" task is impossible by personal effort alone. It is possible only by the Spirit's presence and power. Let me put it like this: if you are guided by the Spirit you will be in no danger of yielding to self-indulgence, since self-indulgence is the opposite of the Spirit, the Spirit is totally against such a thing, and it is precisely because the two are so opposed that you do not always carry out your good intentions. (Ga 5,16-17). And there is peace in the realization that his grace will always be sufficient. We need only build rhythms into our life that enable us to live in contact with it. Respect for the Total Person I believe that a major reason traditional approaches to asceticism lost their hold on us was that they were not clearly related to living the Christian life. Ifasceticism is to regain its deserved place in Christian living, it must be functional: it must clearly facilitate greater love and service of the Lord and others. But I believe that there is a second major reason, why the traditional approach to asceticism lost its hold. I believe that the Christian community became increasingly uncomfortable with one of its major-- though not always articulated--assumptions, namely that the body is pri-marily a barrier to spiritual growth and needs to be repressed to be kept submissive. It was indicative of our attitude toward the body that we felt comfortable in attributing to it rather than to the whole person so much evil in the self. We are clearly not. denying the internal dividedness of the self, the tension between the Spirit in us and our lower human nature---ourself Principles of Asceticism / 365 outside the Spirit. Any approach to asceticism that underplays this fact of Revelation is obviously distorted. But we are insisting that the body, too, is good because it is part of the person that has been transformed by the grace of Christ. The conclusion for asceticism is that the body is not only a barrier to the Spirit needing to be repressed, but it is equally an aid to the Spirit and must be respected and treated as such. This view of the person is reinforced by current theological works on the nature of the self. Theologians today continually speak of the threefold dimension of the person: body, mind, and spirit. They stress that all our acts are combinations of the three dimensions; they are simultaneously phys-ical, psychological and spiritual. One dimension inevitably influences the other two. The conclusion for spirituality is that the way we use our bodies and minds will either help or harm our life in the Spirit. And so we must respect all'principles of good physical and psychological health. I believe these insights have crucial import for asceticism today, import not ade-quately acknowledged in our previous approaches to asceticism. The chal-lenge of a contemporary asceticism will be to develop rhythms for the use of the body and the mind that respect their positive and vital role in the service of the whole person. Perhaps a note should be added on the importance of the psychological dimension for spiritual growth. It goes without saying that if body, mind and spirit are interconnected, psychological health and maturity are crucial for spiritual growth. The challenge of ascetical practices in this area is to develoP rhythms in daily living that respect valid psychological principles of growth. It is clear how intimately related are psychological and spiritual growth. For instance, a generally accepted touchstone for psychological maturity is the ability to be in touch with our inner selves and to make decisions flowing from our own insights without being unduly influenced by outside pressures. This principle of psychological health is central for the Christian. Our goal is to know and do the Father's will. To do this we must be guided by the Spirit. And' t6 be guided by the Spirit we must be in touch with our inner selves, for it is on this very deep level that God can influence and direct us. This means we must develop daily rhythms that enable us to live in tune with our inner selves. Fr~)m the perspective of mental health and maturity psychologists can only concur. The Christian seeks always to know and do the Father's will in love. We cannot do this by ourselves; we can do this only with the Spirit. We seek then to develop rhythms in our daily life forthe use of our bodies and minds that keep them under the influence of the Spirit: "Since the Spirit is our life, let us be directed by the Spirit" (Ga 5, 25). Thomas Merton's expression is perfect. The "spiritual life'" is then the perfectly balanced life in which the body with its passions and instincts, the mind with its reasoning and its obedience to principle, and the spirit with its passive illuminationoby the Light and Love of God form one ~i66 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/3 complete man who is in God and with God and from God and for God. One man in whom God is all in all. One man in whom God carries out his own will without obstacle. New Seeds of Conternplation (New York: New Directions, 1961), p. 140. ~ractical Principles: the Body What are these rhythms that foster our being directed by the Spirit? The most obvious place to begin is with the body--body is theterm we are using for ~he physical dimension of our existence. The basic question in this area is: What rhythms are necessary in daily living to keep the body responsive to the direction of the Spirit in energetically doing the will of the Father? There are two major principles: first, we must do whatever is necessary and possible to keep in good physical health, and second, we must do whatever is necessary to keep our sensual desires responsive to the Spirit and not to our lower human nature, that is, the part of our being that has not yet been transformed by the Spirit of Christ. The first we will ~:all the positive principle for the use of the body; the second, the negative principle. For me the first is

Issue 33.1 of the Review for Religious, 1974. ; 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 (~) 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 January 1974 Volume 33 Number 1 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, S.J.; St. Joseph's Church; 321 Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19106. Review for Religious Volume 33, 1974 Editorial Offices 539 North Grand Boulevard Saint Louis, Missouri 63103 R. F. Smith, S.J. Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Editor " Associate Editor Questions and Answers 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 Microfilm; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. Copyright (~ 1974 by Review for Religious. Documents concerning Religious The following are seven recent documents concerning religious given here in chronologi-cal order and in the English translation provided by the weekly English edition of L' osservatore romano. LETTER TO THE GENERAL OF THE JESUITS To Our Beloved Son PETER ARRUPE Superior General of the Society of Jesus On the solemn occasion of Easter last year you intimated to Us that you were thinking of calling a general congregation of your Society in the year 1974, whose task it would be to explore the most apt ways for the Society to per-form its work in the Church and in the world of today. Importance of the Congregation Our Venerable Brother, the Cardinal Secretary of State, replying in Our behalf,~sent you Our best wishes. Now that you have publicly annoUnced the general congregation, and the provincial congregations are soon to be held for the election of delega.tes and for the preparation of postulata to be proposed to the general congregation, We Ourselves because of the love We bear the Society wish to address Ourselves through this letter to you and your companions to encourage you and to send you Our best wishes for a happy outcome of the congrega.tion. For we are well aware of the great im-portance of convoking it at this time, which could be an hour of decision, so to speak, for the Society of Jesus, for its future destiny and for its task in Church, as it is also for other religious families. 4 / Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 This meeting is a sign--and We are happy to say so--that the Society of Jesus is making a great effort, in accordance with the aims of its institute, to adapt its life and its apostolate to the needs of today's world, which is so constantly and rapidly changing. The Mind ot Vatican II Your desire, in fact, corresponds with the norms of the Second Vatican Council, the proper and careful implementation of which We Ourselves are strenuously trying to attain. Indeed, the congregation is in accord with the opinion of the Council fathers who said: "Effective renewal and proper adap-tation cannot be achieved except with the cooperation of all the members of the institute" (Decr. Perfectae caritatis, 4). However, if that universal Synod was looking for renewal fitting the needs of the present, it did not want this to be brought about through a hazardous experimentation that might be alien to the very character of the religious family, or lead to an abandonment of the primary values of a life consecrated to God. No, it was the mind of that Synod that the common elements of religious life should be confirmed and that they should be allowed to grow and develop. These are: a following and imitation of Christ, "as proposed in the Gospel" (ibid., 2); a renuncia-tion of worldly things so that the religious might live for God alone and for the building up of the Church; a practice of all the human and Christian vir-tues, best achieved by a joyful and constant observance of the vows (cf. ibid., 5), which should lead to the heights of the spiritual life where sublime contemplation is joined with magnanimous action. In Our apostolic exhorta-tion "Evangelica testificatio," which We published later, We explained all this in more detail and dealt with it more fully, using it as a paternal invita-tion to all religious that "they might shed light among men, so that, when they see the good you do, they might give praise to the Father in heaven" (cf. Mt 5:16). The Society of Jesus, especially called to walk in the path of the follow-ing of Christ, should feel itself particularly impelled to review its style of life, testing it constantly in the light of the Gospel, according to the exhortations contained in the words and example of St. Ignatius. Let this be undertaken with a view to actually effecting the renewal begun at the instance of the Council, taking into account new circumstances and needs. This should be done, however, in accordance with the spirit of the Society of Jesus, that is, in fidelity to its tradition which is based on .Christ, on the Church, on St. Ignatius. Hence, that the preparation for the coming General Congregation may not be limited to organizational matters, but give to all the members of the Society of Jesus a proper orientation and win their full commitment to it, they will have to rehearse with penetrating insight, a clear grasp of reality, and a profound sense of duty those principles of the spiritual and apostolic life which for centuries formed, as it were, the very structure that held the Documents concerning Religious / 5 Society together, and which made it a most serviceable instrument for a pastoral, missionary, and educational apostolate involving cultural forma-tion of" the highest excellence. Those responsible for this accomplishment were a large group of men distinguished for holiness of life and love of neighbor. Sources of Strength The foundations of religious formation which were laid in the past should today, even under changed conditions, still be the source of strength of the Society of Jesus. They are: a diligent dedication to prayer, which "has its origin in the authentic sources of Christian spirituality" (cf. Decr. Per- [ectae caritatis, 6); an austerity of life, preventing a person from easily adopting that frame of mind which, casting aside that which is sacred, pre-vails in so many forms of contemporary life and practice; supernatural strength by which apostolic effectiveness is increased, and in the absence of which no action, no matter how excellent on the surface, can yield lasting fruit for the transformation of the human conscience; complete observance of the vows, especially obedience, which is peculiar to the Society and a condi-tion of its religious discipline by which its vigor was always preserved. Hence, there must be no attempt to introduce new methods of deliberation and deci-. sion-making that not only undermine the very notion of obedience, but alter the nature itself of the Society of Jesus. Finally, the ascetical value of com-munity life and the advantages it offers for the formation of character should be kept in mind. To these weighty principles We would also add in a very special manner the fidelity to the Apostolic See, whether in the area of studies and education of young scholastics, who are the hope of your order, or of the students at-tending the great number of schools and universities entrusted to the Society, or in the production and publication of writings aimed at a wide circle of readers, or in the exercise of the direct apostolate. Dangers to Essential Structure of the Order Nor are We ignorant of the fact that over the past few years in several parts of the Society--and it is by no means absent either from the life of the Church in general--certain tendencies have arisen of an intellectual and dis-ciplinary nature which, if fostered and given support, could lead to serious and possibly irreparable changes in the essential structure itself of your So-ciety. As you know, Beloved Son, we have through Our closest collaborators called your attention more than once to these matters, while expressing the hope that the expected renewal will be brought about securely and smoothly. Therefore, on the occasion of the announcement of the gen-eral congregation We express once again Our desire, indeed Our demand, that the Society of Jesus should adapt its life and apostolate to today's con-ditions and needs in such a way that confirmation be given to its characteris- 6 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 tics as a religious, apostolic, priestly Order, linked to the Roman Pontiff by a special bond of love and service, as ratified in the "Formula of the Institute" or fundamental rule of this same Society, approved and repeatedly confirmed by Our predecessors. In the adaptation of which We .speak, experience will be your teacher. It will show what concrete forms of life and action have now become irrelevant and outdated, and what new needs and opportunities pre-sent themselves of work to be undertaken or directed according to the mind of Christ and the nature of the apostolate. We also hope that in the preparation for the general congregation, and later when it is in session, all the religious will be intent on the good of the Society, united in that charity required by your Founder, whose voice can still somehow be heard, in your Constitutions: "Union and agreement among all ought to be sought with great care, and the opposite ought not to be per-mitted; in order that, being united among themselves by the bond of fraternal charity, they may be able better and more efficaciously to apply themselves in the service of God and the aid of their fellowmen" (P.III, c.l, n.18). Final Thoughts~ and Suggestions These,, then, are Our wishes; that they may be heeded we pray to ,the Virgin Mother of God, Queen and Mother of the Society of Jesus; may she support it with counsel, strengthening goodwill, stirring up hearts, and in-spiring all the religious to ever more zealously imitate the Divine Savior in their task of constantly and courageously establishing His reign. What we have written should show you and your companions what is ex-pected of you by Us, who know well what influence the Society of Jesus has, what the task is that it has to fulfill, what confidence it enjoys; all this must be carefully considered, both with respect to the Society itself and with respect to the Church. We wish you to inform your collaborators and all the members of the Society of Jesus of this message, so that each one may see the witness of Our paternal benevolence and of the concern We have for the future destiny of the same Society. For We are convinced that the more faithfully the sons of St. ignatius conserve the Ignatian charism as it appears in the principle docu-ments of the institute, the more effectively will they pursue the glorious work of evangelizing today's world according to their God-given vocation, emulat-ing the example of so many Jesuits who consistently tried-~--and We use the words of St. Ignatius--"to distinguish themselves in the total service of their eternal King and universal Lord" (Spit. Ex., II week). Having made known in writing what is in Our heart, We gladly impart to you and to the whole Society of Jesus the Apostolic Blessing as an'augury of the divine assistance. ~ " From the Vatican, the fifteenth of September, 1973, the eleventh year of Our Pontificate. PAUL VI Documents concerning Religious "/ 7 LETTER ON ST. BRIDGET OF SWEDEN To Our Venerable Brother JOHN E. TAYLOR Bishop of Stockholm In this year marking the sixth centenary of her death, honor is rightly paid to St: Bridget, Flowei" of the North, and rightly are the faithful exhorted to direct their thoughts, with fresh° enthusiasm, so to speak, to the spiritual beauty of this heavenly one, as her memory is being solemnly recalled to mind. This chosen woman had a double fatherland: Sweden, where she was born at the beginning of the 14th century and Rome, where she spent nearly 20 years, and where after her return from a pilgrimage to Jerusalem, she de-parted ripe for heaven, to the eternal Jerusalem, on the 23rd day of July, in the year 1373. ~ In that northern region to which the devout mind turns with heightened eagerness on this occasion, the ecclesiastical life was at that time in a fluorishing state, particularly because the Cistercian monks and after them the mendicant orders had introduced a piety that was well adapted to the people. For nurturing this piety, devout pilgrimages, to which Christians were much given, proved very effective. And' when the Scandinavians ad-venturously and with devotion and enthusiasm betook themselves to the holy places:in distant parts of the world, they, as it were,°exchanged spiritual riches with other brethren in Christ whom they met and also experienced in a vital way the unity.of the body of the Church. Wife and Mother Such were the times in which Bridget grew to womanhood. Although she desired to consecrate her virginity to God, she was thwarted in her desire of a Divine Spouse. In,submission to the will of her father, she married Ulf Gudmarsson, an excellent man. As wife and mother she was a shining ex-ample; she lived united to her husband by the bond of Christian love andsh~ reared her' eight 6hildren with discerning wisdom; that is to say, she wished them to grow up to be not only good citizens of their fatherland, but also servants and children of God. And so it came about that the seeds of religious vocation came?to flower among her offspring. Indeed, her second daughter, Catherine, with the aid ofdivine grace reached the heights of sancity. Nor may ewe neglect to mention the charity of St. Bridget lavished on the mem-bers of Christ suffering from poverty or other distress. Following a pious pilgrimage they had made together to the Shrine of St. James at Compostella, Bridget's husband entered a Cistercian monas-tery and soon after he died there. Whereupon Bridget, having set her domes-tic affairs in order, devoted herself entirely to the ascetical life and prepared for her own flights to God, by whom she wa~ richly favored with mystical 8 / Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 gifts. During the two years in which she lived in a retired place near the monastery where her husband Ulf had withdrawn from the world, she was inspired by Christ with the resolve to found a new Order to be named for our Divine Savior, in honor of Mary the Virgin Mother of God. There would be double monasteries housing in separate buildings men and women who had,freed themselves for divine pursuits, but they would constitute onecom-munity, as it were, gathered together in God's name. This order, whose rule Our Predecessor Urban V approved in 1370, began with the foundation called Vadstena. Spiritual Writings There is cause for rejoicing indeed in the fact that this religious family, which almost disappeared at the time when the seamless garment of the Church was pitiably rent, began to flourish again at the beginning of this present century, insofar as its branch of consecrated women is concerned; and a house was established at the Campo dei Fiori, where the mother foundress had formerly lived. That this institute may prosper with a happy increase in this anniversary celebration honoring St. Bridget is the object of our earnest desire. Deservedly extolled also are those works which are entitled "Revela-tions," and which set forth the mystical graces bestowed on St. Bridget. They are records valued besides for their wealth of sacred doctrine, treating of her cult of our Savior's humanity, of His sacred passion, of the Blessed Virgin, St. Joseph, and the angels. The spiritual writings and religious art of the 15th and 16th centuries reflect the strong impact of these works. Solicitude for the Church Broadening the range of her concern, however, St. Bridget, like another Catherine of Siena, extended her great and zealous solicitude to the Church and the Apostolic See in that troubled period. As a devoted daughter she sought the reformation of the Church, ihe Mother of all, which, as Vatican Council II says, "is summoned by Christ, as she goes her pilgrim way, to that continual reformation, of which she always has need, insofar as she is an institution of men here on earth" (Decree on Ecumenism, Unitat& redinte-gratio, 6). Like the "valiant woman" she was, Bridget entreated Clement VI, lingering in Avignon, to return to Rome and urged the proclamation of the jubilee year of 1350. This woman, then, who by her life and work united so admirably and beneficially in the one Church her illustrious native land of the North and the See of Peter, corroborates, so to speak, as a citizen of heaven, the gener-ous efforts of those who after a prolonged and lamentable severance are now striving to restore Christian unity. Indeed, Our predecessor Boniface IX ap-pears in some way to have foretold this when in an apostolic letter dated under his seal, 7 October 1391 he said that he declared Blessed Bridget of Documents concerning Religious / 9 happy memory to be a saint "for the unity of the faith and of the Ch'urch" (Bullarium Priv. ac Dipl. Pont., III, Rome, 1741, p. 391 ). Tolally Dedicated Again, we rightly commemorate this singular and exemplary woman be-cause, although she was totally dedicated to God, she was not estranged from her own people. More than this, animated by a Christian love of her native land, she labored for its true progress. Her own family gave 'to Sweden for almost a hundred years kings, among them St. Eric, who were intent upon the good of their people and social justice. And although occupied with household cares, St. Bridget often served as an instructress in royal duties at court and was like a watchful mother to King Eric the Great (or Erikson) and his wife. She gave them a Swedish translation of the Holy Bible, and for this and for her writings mentioned above, she obtained a place in the literary history of her country. May her light shine radiantly, therefore, a light recognized also by those who are not of the Catholic communion. May this extraordinary woman in-tercede with God that He may graciously bestow on the Church the gifts of peace and unity. These obtained, may the faithful of Christ in Sweden and the adjoining northern regions come to recognize that he who is placed over the Catholic Church and exercises the highest apostolic ministry testifies to a singular esteem and brotherly love for them. May the example of this devout pilgrimage ot~ olden days kindle the hearts of those who come to this City in the forthcoming Holy Year, so that sincere repentance and desire for the interior life may bring about a spiritual renewal that will benefit not only in-dividuals but the Church also and civil society. This then is Our message to you in observance of the sixth centenary of th~ death of St. Bridget. In conclusion, We affectionately impart to you and to the faithful under your care the Apostolic Blessing as a token of spiritual strength and joy. This Blessing we desire to extend also to the Abbess Gen-eral and the Sisters of St. Bridget, the Order of our Divine Savior. From the Vatican Palace, on the 19th day of September, in the year 1973, the eleventh of our Pontificate. PAUL VI ADDRESS TO BENEDICTINE ABBOTS The following address was given October 1, 1973, to 270 abbots and con-ventual priors of the Benedictine Confederation led by the Abbot Primate, Dom Rembert Weakland. Also present for the audience were three Orthodox monks and three Protestant monks. From the heart we greet you, representatives of the whole Order of St. Benedict, who, in St. Cyprian's words, have come "to the Chair of Peter and the primatial church, the source of priestly unity" (Ep. 12, 14; PL 3,844-5). You have desired also to pay a visit to us, the successor in the apostolic min- Review for Religious,. Volume 33, 1974/1 istry to that same blessed Peter, in the long intervening line of Pontiffs. We greet also the Priors here present ot~ monasteries located for the most partin Africa and in Latin America, in which areas, with laudable spontaneity you devote your energies to missionary work; that is to say, "you are diligently engaged in implanting there the very rich tradition of your Order" (see Conc. Vat. II, Decr. Ad gentes divinitus, 18). Experiencing God We welcome in addition, recognizing at the same time the high prestige they enjoy, the observers, who, though not full participants in the Catholic communion, are yet striving to follow in the footsteps of St. Benedict. Fi-nally, we receive paternally the abbesses of monasteries and th~ mothers general here present of congregations that adhere to the spirit of this Patri-arch and are called by his name. We know that you are now holding a meeting on a subject of no small consequence; namely, on the mode of experiencing God in monastic life. This topic has various facets, as it were, whether it is considered according to Biblical doctrine, to sacred liturgy, to history, to the conditions and exigen-cies of the present day. We regard this subject as serviceable indeed, if this troubled age of ours is really to return to the great and fundamental reflec-tions that concern human existence itself. For there is danger today that men may banish the sacred from their minds and from their condu& and even presume they can do without God, at least in the use they make'of thoii" lives. Sometimes even those who have given themselves to the divine service and are dedicated to the pastoral ministry can be infected with this secular view. You, however, as monks in appearance, dress, and way of life affirm or should affirm that you belong to the number of those who do not rely upon the vain and passing things of this world, but seek wholeheartedly Him who is the Absolute: whom alone we ca.ll God, God our Highest Good, God Eternal. Here there shines before the eyes of the mind the true concept of religion, whereby man becomes intimately aware that he is ordered to God, Creator, Ruler, Last End, and Author of Salvation, to whom he owes in-terior and exterior worship. Such religion, therefore, encompasses the entire man and obliges him to devote himself to God in wholehearted service. Hence, you who "have chosen the best part" (see Luke 10:42), inasmuch as "your main task is to render the Divine majesty a service at once sim-ple and noble within the monastic confines" (see Conc. Vat. II, Decr. Perfectae caritatis, 9), dembnstrate the excelling power of the interior life for opposing that secular propensity whereby men are induced to abandon their own true center, as it were, and surrender themselves to exterior things. Liturgy of the Hours It should be your concern, then, to be religious who are truly, called so, Documents concerning Religious under a unique title, since you strive to ascend to God, to whom you have been consecrated by the profession of the evangelical counsels, through liv-ing the contemplative life, which you nourish by daily effort. Merely in doing this you express your protest against the neglect of God and against the profane way of life which pervades the world in these times. From our brief exposition, the excellence of prayer to be directed to God is already manifest. Indeed, all the sons of the Church, as you well know, are to adore the Father "in spirit and in truth" (see John 4:23). But since in the world of today prayer is beset by so many snares and threatened by so many perils, to you, who enjoy a more fortunate position, is entrusted the special task of directing your study and efforts to the end that the Church may really appear as the Ecclesia Orans. We are cognizant of the zeal with which you have studied the liturgical aspect in this meeting. We rejoice greatly in your diligence and your ardent desire to make that venerable tradition of yours flourish among you and to preserve that which constitutes the essential part of your spiritual life and which in the course of the centuries has ever enhanced the life of the Church itself. We know also of your solicitude for the vital force, the profound sig-nificance and the benefits which have been derived from the renewal of the liturgy that you brought to pass. Joined to this solicitude of y_ours is appre-hension lest these same benefits be not rightly and duly recognized, the more so because differing inclinations of soul in the great family of- St. Benedict have become evident with regard to the order to be observed in the Liturgy of the Hours; that is, whether this order should be uniform in the various monasteries or particular to each one. Need to Study and Weigh This is a very important question, whether as pertaining to your con-sistent historical and spiritual tradition or to your monastic cohesion which is no longer supported by only one form of sacred liturgy, but is expressed through several different voices, so that in celebrating the praise of God you are no longer "speaking with one voice." Consequently, this question should be studied in such a way as to embrace all its aspects in accordance with the vows made by you, before appropriate norms with the force of precept are laid down. Nevertheless, we wish to state that the difficulties which have arisen should be so weighed, and due account taken of the benefits already ac-cruing, while with joint effort you strive to offer a testimony of fervent and ardent prayer to the world of today with its secular outlook. Assuring you therefore of our fatherly concern for the welfare of your monastic communities, we strongly affirm that we shall take under our eager and careful consideration the outcome and result of the work you have begun on this question, and already at this stage we acknowledge our Review [or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 high esteem for the manner in which, with your wonted wisdom, you are addressing yourselves to this task. However, you are obliged to fulfill not only the duty of liturgical prayer, immensely important as this is, but also that of private prayer. On this sub-ject the Second Vatican Council has given a wise reminder (see Const. Sacrosanctum Concilium, 12), and St. Benedict himself is considered to treat of this point in his Rule, in the section headed. "De reverentia ora-tionis": "Supplication should be made to the Lord God of the universe with all humility and pure devotion" (cap. 20; see P. Delatte, Commentaire sur le R~gle de Saint Beno~t, Paris, p. 217). The exhortations of your founder are by no means inappropriate to this age, in which things progress and change with such rapidity. Just as in former times, so also now, you are to establish "a school of the Lord's ser-vice" (Reg. prol.); in other words, your monasteries should be so struc-tured that those who enter therein learn how to serve God and how to be continuously employed in His service. Such service, however, chiefly com-prises divine worship, by which the virtue of religion is exercised, as we have indicated above, and also holiness. With reference to worship we should like to bring out a special point: in celebrating the sacred liturgy with diligence and piety, as it behooves you to do, let. the sweet voice of the singing Church sound forth and never cease to sound forth in your churches. For men of today also feel the in-effable power of song that uplifts the soul and with gentle modulation gives expression to feelings of adoration, praise, penitence, and petition. Specially Chosen As regards holiness, this thought of St. Augustine should be deeply meditated: "Let not your voice only sound forth the praises of God, but let your deeds be in harmony with your voice" (Enarr. in Ps. 166, 2; PL 37, 1899). Although you have withdrawn from the world, to be occupied with the Lord, you have nonetheless "been specially chosen to preach the good news" (Rom l:l). May that hidden apostolic fruitfulness of which the Council speaks (see Decr. Perfectae caritatis, 7) flow out therefore from your mon-asteries upon the Church and society. May the yeast be prepared in them whereby, through the operation of divine power, the world may be renewed. This holiness, moreover, pertains not only to the life of the soul, but also to what you are doing for the cultivation of natural gifts, inasmuch as, to mention some examples, you devote yourselves to liturgical, Biblical, and historical studies for the common benefit, or, you engage in work, especially manual labor. Indeed, this last, may I add, enables you to go to the assist-ance of those who are suffering from poverty and other hardships, in keep-ing, of course, with the practices of the monastic life. This is in accord with the mind of the Council fathers who exhorted religious "to contribute to the Documents concerning Religious / 13 support of the poor, whom all should love with the tenderness of Christ" (see Decr. Per[ectae caritatis, 13; Const. Gaudium et spes, 42). Finally, not only your own individual life, but the life of the community as a whole, whereby you are joined one to another with the sweet bond of charity, should be adorned by this mark of holiness: that through the fel-lowship of community life directed to God, each individual is assisted in carrying out his service to the Lord, is incited to work for his brethren, is protected from dangers. Thus you will truly bear witness before the world to the holiness of the Church. In short, a community such as this, like a kind of novitiate, prepares religious during their lifetime for the everlasting day. Not without reason did St. Bernard reckon among the aids to good works: "to desire eternal life with all spiritual avidity" (Reg. cap. 4). ~ Example and Exhortation Of all these practices let the abbot give the example and exhort thereto the brethren entrusted to his care. Although the office of governing is ren-dered more difficult at the present time, yet he who "is believed to hold the place of Christ in the monastery" (Reg. cap. 2) should make the utmost effort that the vigor of spiritual life and of monastic discipline be strength-ened, increased, and, if need be, restored. To this end the abbot should en-deavor to maintain an unimpaired union with the magisterium of the Church, like a channel through which living water is drawn off for himself and for the brethren placed in his charge. The foregoing is what we have had affectionately in mind to say to you, and we do not doubt you will strive that your Order may aid the building up of the Church with spiritual forces, also in these times, to the needs of which it should prudently adapt itself. The announced Holy Year should offer you further incentive, since as you know we wish it to be a time of interior renewal. Lastly, as a pledge of heavenly gifts and as testimony of our assured affection, we impart the Apostolic Blessing to you who are here present and to all the members of your families in the Lord. ADDRESS TO THE LITTLE SISTERS OF JESUS The following address was given to the Little Sisters of Jesus at an audience of October 3, 1973. Dear Little Sisters of Jesus, last Friday we had the very sweet joy of meeting you at Tre Fontane, in the eloquent simplicity of your houses and in an impressive atmosphere of evangelical serenity and happiness. Your participation in this audience is like a return feast, for you and for us like-wise. To the thirty-seven Little Sisters who have just made their vows of per- 14 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 petual consecration at St. Peter's tomb, we address our best wishes for fervent faithfulness. But our brief words are also addressed to their families, who have in many cases come from very far away to be present at their de-finitive commitment "because of Jesus and the Gospel." They are addressed likewise to the two hundred Little Sisters at present attending a session of spiritual formation under the direction of dear Father Voillaume. We entrust to you our heart's most ardent desire. We would like you to take all over the world the conviction that a religious profession com-mits at such a profound level that changes of structures and activities have only a relative importance, even if one suffers from them. The essential thing is to keep a very keen awareness of the call of Christ who chooses His friends Himself (see Jn 15:15.) Is not Fr~re Charles de J6sus an example of this faithfulness deepened through different, if not contradictory, situ-ations? It is clear, however, that his mysterious route finds its coherence and its unity in passionate imitation of Jesus Christ, the One Model. Fr~re Charles de J6sus appears as one of the most perfect types of this deep faith-fulness of a human freedom to the freedom and faithfulness of God, who took him far beyond his expectations and hopes. Dear Little Sisters of Jesus, be confiden!! To be faithful does not con-sist in becoming tense over one's promises, but in relying on the Lord to ensure our ~faithfulness. That is why the long hours spent~with Christ in the Holy Eucharist will always be the primary and indispensable source of the friendship, the evangelical testimony you have promised to give in the Church and in the world today. It is with these sentiments that we renew our affectionate Apostolic Blessing to you and to your relatives and to your whole religious family. ADDRESS TO REDEMPTORISTS On October 6, 1973, the Pope gave the following talk to the members of the general chapter of the Redemptorists. Beloved Sons, To you assembled in the General Chapter of your Congre-gation of the Most Holy Redeemer and engaged in deliberations of great importance to the life of your religious family, We extend our affectionate greeting. We desire, moreover, to welcome expressly the new superior gen-eral, who is charged with the office and the burden of guiding your congre-gation through the difficulties of our times--neither few nor inconsiderable --and of conducting it to "green pastures" (see Ps 22:2). Purpose of Chapters A general chapter provides an excellent opportunity--offered to every institute--to 'reflect once more upon the true nature and end set for the institute and to hold discussions that will have a salutary effect on the life of the members. For the responsibility of a general chapter is not discharged Documents concerning Religious / 15 by holding elections and. legislating; .the chapter must also promote the spiritual and apostolic vitality of the whole body (see Litterae Ap. Ecclesiae sanctae, motu proprio, I, 2). Therefore, in a meeting of this kind, the entire family is gathered together in the presence of God to hear His voice and take counsel with regard to its renewal which, as also for the whole Church, "essentially consists in an increase of fidelity to its own calling" (see Conc. Vat. II Decr. Unitatis redintegratio, 6). Your congregation was founded by that most devout Doctor of the Church, St. Alphonsus, in order that its members might sanctify them-selves by an assiduous and faithful imitation of Christ and also engage in apostolic works, above all that special care of souls involving salutary con-tact with the most abandoned. Servants of God Beloved Sons, you are servants of God in the true and primary sense of the word; for "by your vows you are totally dedicated to God through an act of supreme Love" (see Const. Lumen gentium, 44). To be dedi-cated means to be given over to another as his property and possession. You should be followers of Christ as the Universal Synod advised all re-ligious (see Decr. Perfectae caritatis, 2a), corroborating, as it were, and realizing more completely the desire of your Father Founder. Hence each of you must endeavor to order his life to a certain unity and seek Christ daily with a sincere and generous heart. Daily you should put on Christ, an effort which is the beginning and the end and the whole of your life, whether as individual religious or as communities. Thus you truly make Christ present in the world, which is in many instances utterly alienated from Him, its Redeemer. Then those who see you, who speak to you or liave dealings with you may experience a certain mysterious power emanating from our Savior. Thus also you manifest the holiness of the Church, to the world which especially demands holiness in her sons. Life of Charity This daily effort to put on the likeness of Christ constitutes, however, a life lived in charity and motivated by charity. For religious thus "impelled ¯ . . live ever increasingly for Christ and for His body the Church" (Decr. Perfectae caritatis, 1 ). But love truly and properly so called is not for a limited time, is not hedged by conditions, is not rendered less ardent by difficulties, and knows no end. Justly did the Second Vatican Council address to every religious the following exhortation to fidelity: "Let all who have been called to the profession of the vows take painstaking care to persevere and excel increasingly in the vocation to which God has summoned them" (Const. Lumen gentium, 47). The life in which one dedicates himself to God with an undivided heart 16 / Review Jor Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 becomes a means to show forth the love of God for men. Just as God "loved the world so much that he gave his only son" (Jn 3:16), so too a religious who strives to attain the fullness of his vocation is a kind of gift bestowed upon the world. For an apostolate that is enlivened by continual prayer, liturgical and private, by ascetical zeal and the practice of the vir-tues, transfuses the divine life into men and constitutes in its truest sense the service of one's brothers in Christ. Beloved members of the Congregation of the Most Holy Redeemer, you have illumined the Church by the sanctity of certain of your brethren, of whom We are pleased to recall to mind the Saints, Alphonsus Mary de'Liguorl, your founder, Clement Hofbauer, Gerard Majella, Blessed John Nepomucene Neumann. By your apostolic labors you have brought the light of divine grace to so many souls. On the occasion of this general chapter, persevere with renewed alacrity in your noble purpose, and if need be give fresh impetus to your zeal and redouble your efforts that the Church of God may reap benefit from you now and in the future as in times past. In fatherly encouragement to you in all these efforts, we lovingly im-part the.Apostolic Blessing .~o you who are present here and to all your members. ADDRESS TO MISSIONARIES OF THE SACRED HEART At the general audience of October 10, 1973, the Holy Father gave the follow-ing talk to jubilarian Missionaries of the Sacred Heart who were present at the audience. Venerable Brothers and Dear Sons in Christ, It is a joy for us to receive you on this occasion which marks the anniversary of your sacerdotal ordi-nation. For forty years you have exercised the ministry of the priesthood, having been called by the Lord Himself and sent out by the Church to preach "Christ crucified" (1 Cor 1:23) and to assist in giving witness to His Resurrection (see Acts 4:33). We can well imagine how many graces the Lord has offered you over the years and how many helps your ministry has brought to those whom you have served with fidelity and sacrifice. On this happy occasion we are glad to offer you our blessing, our felicitations, and our encouragement. We see you as part of a vast number of our brother priests who have been conscious of their responsibility and calling and who have endeavored with God's grace to perform their ministry, in the spirit of St. Paul, as one "worthy of God's approval, a workman who has no cause to be ashamed" (2 Tim 2:15). Today we wish, at this point in your lives, to confirm you in the faith, which you have received and preached, and in the priestly vo-cation that has been your precious gift, high dignity, and important obliga-tion. We urge you at this time to keep alive your hope and to maintain to the end that confidence with which you began (see Heb 3:6,14). To each Documents concerning Religious / 17 of you we say with the Apostle: "God . . . will not forget your work and the .love you have shown him by your service, past and present, to his holy people" (Heb 6:,10). May Christ fill all of you with joy and keep you in his love. On our part we cordially give your our special Apostolic Blessing. Our special greeting of grace and peace in the Lord go to the members of the General Conference of the Congregation of the Missionaries of the Sacred Heart, gathered together to consider questions of religious life and missionary activity. As we assure you of our paternal affection and en-couragement, we pray that Christ Jesus will make you apt instruments of preaching His gospel with ever greater effectiveness. We pray that you may indeed draw copiously from the riches of His love so as to be able to com-municate this same love in all its fullness "to the praise of his glori6hs grace" (Eph 1:6). Our Apostolic Blessing accompanies you in your im-portant responsibilities. ADDRESS TO THE CLARETIAN CHAPTER On October 25, 1973, Paul VI gave an audience to the members of the Claretian general chapter during which he delivered the following address. Beloved Missionary Sons of the Immaculate Heart of Mary! We express to you our deep pleasure at th!s vi.s.!t you pay us at the con-clusion of the meetings of your general chfi~ter. We hope that the work you have carried out these days will be fruitful. We hope that the dedicated service of the superior general and of the other members elected to form part of his council, will be effective and helpful for the purposes of your religious family. ~ We cannot overlook a particularly, iIluhainating circumstance, ,.which makes this joyful meeting more attractive: yesterday we celebrated the liturgical feast of St. Antonio Maria Claret. You yourselves made known for this reason your desire to visit Peter's Successor. We thank you for this gesture of support, in which we see a testimony of ekquisite spiritual affinity with your founder. How could we fail to recall before his sons the deep de-votion' he felt for the Vicar of Christ? And how could we fail to,venerate his memory in view of his eloquent and moving 'profession of faith in papal infallibility at the I Vatican Council? All that obliges us gratefully to open our mind to you in confidence, so that. you know that it is in perfect har-mony of religious sentiments with your own. THE CLARETIAN IMAGE We are sure that, during these days of your chapter, the protecting and guiding presence of St. Antonio Maria became more intense and exacting among you. And we like to think too that, when tracing the lines of re-newal, you took as your fixed point of reference the most genuine faithful- 18 / Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 ness to the origins of your institute and to the teachings on the consecrated life that the II Vatican Council proposed .and we ourself have repeatedly in-culcated. Allow us to savour with what purity of characteristic features the image of the Claretian presented itself to the contemplation of St. Antonio Maria. We read it yesterday during the lesson: "I tell myself: a Son of the Immaculate .Heart~ of Mary is a man burning with charity who sets fire wherever he passes. Nothing disheartens him; he takes pleasure in priva-tions, meets difficulties, delights in slander, and rejoices 0in torments. He thinks of nothing except how to follow and imitate Jesus Christ, in working, suffering and struggling always and only for the greater glory .of God and the salvation of souls" (El celo, c. I, BAC 188 [1959], p. 777). o See here, projected towards you, a whole program of holiness, based on religious renunciation of oneself, the fruit of its fertile evangelical vitality. It points out to you clearly,, with expressions of clear Pauline dynamism the good to which your personal and community life must aspire: the following and imitation of Christ in impulses of a charity that is always operative. BEARERS OF VALUES If to this program of interior life we add the very special cult of the Blessed Virgin h~ inculcated in you together with the~rimary dedication to the ministry of the Word, ,we have the complete picture of the Claretian vocation and spirituality. These and no others were the motives that gave life and ,meaning to the irrepressible zeal of the son of Sallent. And none other was the stamp of religious austerity that he imposed on himself to make his ministry more worthy of credit and more in conformity with the demands of the divine call. To proclaim the Good News to the point of sacrificing oneself for the good of one's brothers, to teach men the ever new languagel of;charity, characterized his overwhelming pastoral,task as Arch-bishop of Santiago in Cuba. Rightly could~we say of him, as of the Apostle of the Gentiles, that his vigor as '.'herald and teacher in faith and truth" (see 1 Tim 2:7) suffered no decrease in the midst of difficulties. On the contrary, his pastoral cares, his missionary anxiety found a way to express themselves continually in new ministerial initiatives, at home and abroad, inspired and nourished by the spirit of faithful service to the Church. Beloved sons, .appreciate this spiritual patrimony of yours;, spare no effort in tending its roots, if you really wish to be a tree always young and flourishing, able to adapt itself to the environment, to the changing require-ments of the times in order to continue to give ripe fruit to the Church, as it did in the past and continues to do at present, through its most illustrious sons. , At the chapter you have just held you have been able to convince your-selves that you are bearers of certain values that do not grow old because they .are a select part of the heritage and the universal vocation of the Documents concerning Religious /o 19 Church. The Christian community itself asks you for faithfulness and dis-cretion, generosity and disinterestedness in order to accept you and recog-nize you as the living and united sign of its human and spiritual aspirations. We do not wish to expatiate at greater length. Entrusting these thoughts to you, we wish to encourage you in your aspirations to holiness with our prayers to the Immaculate Heart of Mary so that, with the help of her motherly intercession, you may be exemplary sons of the Church. As con-firmation of these desires and as a testimony of particular benevolence we warmly impart the Apostolic Blessing to you and to the whole Claretian family. First Penance and First Communion Sacred Congregation [or the Discipline of the Sacraments and Sacred Congregation for the Clergy The Supreme Pontiff Pius X, relying on the prescription of Canon 21 of the Fourth Lateran Council, decided by the Decree "Quam singulari" issued on August 8th 1910 (AAS 1910, pp. 577-583), that children, once they had reached the age of discretion, should receive the sacraments of penance and Eucharist. That decision, having been put into operation throughout the universal Church, has produced and continues to produce very many fruits of Christian life and spiritual perfection. The "Addendum" to the General Catechetical Directory issued on the 1 lth April, 1971, by the Sacred Congregation for the Clergy (AAS 1972 pp. 97-176) confirms the custom of children receiving the sacrament of penance before Communion: "Having weighed all these points, and keeping in mind the common and general practice which per se cannot be derogated without the approval of the Apostolic See, and also having heard the Con-ferences of Bishops, the Holy See judges it fitting that the practice now in force in the Church of putting confession ahead of first Communion should be retained." The same "Addendum" took into consideration the fact that in certain regions in the Church some new practices had been introduced allowing children to be admitted to first Communion without first receiving the sacra-ment of penance. It allowed such practices to be continued for a time, pro-vided there was "prior communication with the Apostolic See and., they [the Conferences of Bishops] are at one mind with it." Having now carefully considered the matter and having taken into con-sideration the wishes of the bishops, the Sacred Congregations for the Dis-cipline of the Sacrament~ and for the Clergy, by virtue of this present docu-ment, and with the approval of the Supreme Pontiff, Paul VI, now that the 2O First Penance a~nd First Communion two years have passed, declare that these experiments should be brought to an end with the conclusion of the school year 1972-73 and that, there-fore, the Decree "Quam singulari" is to be obeyed by all everywhere. Given at Rome 24 May 1973. ANTONIUS Card. SAMORI~ Praef . JOHANNES Card. WRIGHT Praef . A Note on Intercommunion Secretariat [or the Union of Christians The following text is an explanatory note concerning the "Instruction on Intercom-munion" issued by the Secretariat for the Union of Christians on June 1, 1972; the text of the 1972 "Instruction" was given in Review ]or Religious, January 1973, pp. 12-8. 1. After the publication of the "Instruction concerning Particular Cases When Other Christians May Be Admitted to Eucharistic Communion in the Catholic Church," on June 1, 1972, various interpretations of it were given, some of which depart from the letter and the spirit of the document. To pre-vent the spread of such inaccurate interpretations and their consequences, we think it useful to recall to mind a few points. 2. With this instruction, pastoral in character, the Secretariat for Pro-moting Christian Unity had no intention of changing the rules laid down by the Vatican Council's decree on ecumenism and further explained by the Directorium Oecumenicum. The intenti6n was to explain that the existing discipline derives from the requirements of the faith and so retains its full vigour. 3. The basic principles of the instruction are: a) There is an indissoluble link between the mystery of the Church and the mystery of the Eucharist or between ecclesial and Eucharistic com-munion; the celebration of the Eucharist of itself signifies the fullness of pro-fession of faith and ecclesial communion (cf. Instruction, par. 2, a, b, c). b) The Eucharist is for the baptized a spiritual food which enables them to live with Christ's own life, to be incorporated more profoundly in Him, and to share more intensely in the whole economy of the mystery of Christ (cf. Instruction, par. 3). 4. Within the full communion of faith, Eucharistic Communion is the .4 Note on lntercommunion / 23 expression of this full communion and, therefore of the unity of .the faithful; at the same time it is the means of maintaining and reinforcing this unity. But Eucharistic Communion practiced by those ,who are not in full ecclesial communion with each other cannot be the expression of that full unity which the Eucharist of its nature signifies and which in this case does not exist; for this reason such Communion,cannot be regarded as a means to be used to lead to full ecclesial communion. 5. All the same, both the Directorium Oecumenicurn and th~ '~Instruc-tion," on,the,strength of what has already been said in the Vatican Council,s decree on ecumenism, allow the possibility of exceptions insofar as the Eucharist is necessary spiritual nour!shment for the Christian life. 6. It is the local ordinary's responsibility to examine these exceptional cases and make concr&e decisions. The instruction (no. 6.) recalls that the Directorium Oecumenicum gives the episcopal authority power, to decide whether in these r~re cases the required conditions are present or not. The episcopal authority's faculty of examining and deciding is governed by criteria laid down in the Directorium Oecumenicum (no. 55) and further explained in the instruction (no. 4 b),:. ". admission to Carbolic'Eucha-ristic Communion is confined to particular cases of those Christians who have a faith in the sacrament in conformity with that of the-Church, who experience a serious spiritual need for the Eucharistic sustenance, who for a prolonged period are unable to have recourse to a minister of their own community °and who ask for the sacrament of their own accord; all' this provided that they have proper dispositions~ and lead lives worthy of a Christian." ~. This criterion is observed if,,ail the required conditions .are verified. An object.ire, pastorally responsible examination,does not allow any vof,the con-ditions to be ignored. . ~. ~ ~ It must also be noted that the instruction speaks of particular cases, which are to be examined individually. Hence-a general regulation.cannot be~ issued which makes a catego.ry .o.ut of an exce.ptional case, nor is it possibles.to legitimate on the basis:of, epikei.a by turning this latter into a general rule. Nevertheless, the bishops can in tiae various situations decide what are theneeds that make exceptions applicable, that is to say, what constitutes a special case, and they can determine the manner of verifying whether all the required conditions are fulfilled in such a particular case. When par-ticular cases presen.t themselves fairly often in one region, following a re-current pattern, episcopal conferences can issue some guiding principles for ascertaining that al!,the conditions are verified in particular cases. Normally however it will be within the competence of the local ordinary to judge such cases. 7. For other Christians to be admitted to the Eucharist in the Catholic Church the instruction requires that they manifest a faith in the sacrament Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 in conformity with that of the Catholic Church. This faith is not limited to a mere affirmation of the "real presence" in the Eucharist, but implies the doctrine of the Eucharist as taught in the Catholic Church. 8, It is to be noted that the instruction (no. 5) calls to mind the fact that the Directorium Oecumenicum (par. 34-54) provides for the Orientals not in full communion with the Catholic Church rules different from those regarding other Christians (par. 55-63)o For example, (a) Since they belong to a community whose Eucharistic faith is in con-formity with that of the Catholic Church, a personal declaration of faith in the sacrament will not be required of them when they are admitted: in an Orthodox this faith is taken for granted; (b) since the Orthodox Churches have true sacraments and, above all, by virtue of apostolic succession, the priesthood and the Eucharist, conces-sions for sacramental communion must take account of legitimate reciprocity (no. 43); (c) Justifiable reasons for advising sacramental sharing are considerably more extensive. 9. The question of reciprocity arises only with those Churches which have preserved the substance of the Eucharist, the sacrament of orders, and apostolic succession. Hence a Catholic cannot ask for the Eucharist except from a minister who has been validly ordained (Directorium Oecumenicum, no. 55). 10. The desire to share the Eucharist fundamentally expresses the desire of the perfect ecclesial unity of all Christians which Christ willed. Intercon-fessional dialogue on the theology of the Eucharist (as sacrament and sacrifice), on the theology of ministry and of the Church is pursuing its course within the ambit of the ecumenical movement, supported by the promises and prayer of our Lord; it is stimulated and enlivened by the charity, poured into our hearts by the Holy Spirit who has been given to us. We express the hope that the ecumenical movement will lead to a common profession of faith among Christians and so allow us to celebrate the Eucharist in ecclesial unity, giving fulfillment to the words, "Because there is one bread, we who are many are one body" ( 1 Cor 10: 17). This note has been approved by the Holy Father, who has authorized its publication. 17 October 1973 JOHN CardinaF WILLEBRANDS President CHARLES MOELLER Secretary Decree on the Holy Year Indulgence Sacred Apostolic Penitentiary A DECREE WHICH DETERMINES WHAT SPIRITUAL WORKS ARE NECESSARY TO GAIN "THE GIFT OF THE INDULGENCE" IN THE VARIOUS LOCAL CHURCHES ON THE OCCASION OF THE HOLY YEAR The Cardinal President of the Central Committee for the Holy Year has asked this Sacred Apostolic Penitentiary to determine what spiritual works are necessary to gain "the gift of the Indulgence," which the Holy Father has promised to reinforce the spirit of reconciliation and renewal which are the characteristics of this Holy Year. Charged by the Sovereign Pontiff, the Sacred Penitentiary grants that, from the 1st Sunday of Advent of this year, until the day when the Holy Year is solemnly initiated in Rome, the faithful of the individual local Churches can gain: 1. The Plenary Indulgence, in the times to be decided by the Episcopal Conferences, if they go on a. pious pilgrimage to the cathedral church, or also to o~her churches determined by the local Ordinary, in which a solemn community function is held; 2. The Plenary Indulgence, likewise in the times to be decided by the Episcopal Conferences, if gathered in groups (for example, families, school pupils, workers, employees and professional workers, pious associations), they visit the cathedral or other churches designated by the Ordinary, and remain there in pious meditation for a suitable time, concluding the visit with the recitation or singing of the Lord's Prayer and the Creed and with the invocation to the Blessed Virgin; 3. The Plenary Indulgence if, prevented by sickness or any other serious 25 26 / Review fo.r. Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 cause, they join spiritually in the pious pilgrimage, offering God their prayers and sufferings. As regards the diocese of Rome, which should rightly be in this matter an example and stimulus for other ecclesial communities, the same Sacred Penitentiary decrees that the times and ways to gain the aforesaid Plenary Indulgence shall be determined by the Cardinal Vicar General of Rome. Notwithstanding any provisions to the contrary. Rome, from the Sacred Apostolic Penitentiary, 24 September 1973. G. SESSOLO Regent G. CARD. PAUP1NI Grand Penitentiary COMMENTARY ON THE HOLY YEAR INDULGENCE The following commentary on the preceding document appeared in L'osser-vatore romano, November 29, 1973, page 6. 1. By order ~f the Holy Father, the Sacred Apostolic Penitentiary issued, on 24 September 1973, a decree confirming and clarifying what had already been said with regard to the Jubilee indulgence during this first phase of the Holy Year. It establishes::the so-called "work" or "pious practice" to be carried out by the faithful, at given times and places, to acquire the Jubilee indulgence. ~ .' The "work" prescribed is a "pilgrimage" to a designated church, con-cl'~ ding witl~ barticipation in a solemn community servic~ or at le.ast with the i'ecitatign 'of some prayers. Summarizing the decree of 24 September 1973 and keeping in mind both the norms for indulgences and the Holy Father's Letter of 31 May 1973, to Cardinal Maximilian de Ftirstenberg, President of the Central Committee for the Ho!y Year, the following points.may be r~oted. The faithful who, duly,dispoged, approach the sacraments of confession affd communion and pray acco~:ding to the intentions of the Holy Father and the Episcopal C~ollege, are granted, in conformity with the norms in fbrce, the gift of the i91enary indulgence, at the time~'to be determined by the respective Episcopal Conference, beginning from 2 December 1973: (a) if they'take part in a pilgrimage to the cathedral church or to another church #esignated by the local Bishop and participate in solemn comrriunity serVice there; (b) if they go in groups (for example ram!lies, "sc3ools, professignal @orkers, associations) to one of the afpresaid chur'~hes and devote the, m-s'elves for ~/suitable space bf time to pious considerations, concluding them with the recitation or the singing of the Ou{ Fath~" and the Creed and with an invocation to the Blessed Virgifi; (c) if, being unable to take part in'tli~ pilgrimage of their comn~unity (ecclesial, family, or social), because they are pi'evented by illness or any ~Decree on the Holy Year Indulgence / 27 .o, ther serious cause, they join in it .spiritually by offering their prayers and sufferings. 2. We spoke above of the faithful being ."duly disposed." This is a reminder that the '.'gift of. t, he indulgence" must .be merited by fervent prep-aration; it is bestowed to reward° and "strengthen"--as we readAn the re-cent d.e~cree--the spirit of renewal and reconciliation that must characterize the Hgly Year. , For this reason the simple practices that are required to gain the Jubilee indulgence must not be separated from the work of preparation, on which s9 much stress has rightly been laid. The practices themselves are, as ~it were, the point of arrival°and ,tOe exte_r.na_l sign of deep renewal of the spirit and reinvigorated love for God and one's brethren. . No.w, ,,the work of renewal and fervor is 'the most valuable part of the Holy Year, because, great as is the value of the indulgence that remits the te.mporal pen,alty in the case of, those who are disposed, the value of the works proposed when their fulfillment leads,to an increase of charity is in-comparably greater (St. Thomas, Supplement to the Theological Summa, q. 25~ 2, 2 and q. 27, 2, 2). ,. 3. We mentioned above--in addition to the proper disposition and the "work" prescribed~what are commonly called "conditions" for gaining the Jubilee indulgence, namely:sacramental confession, eucharistic,communion, and prayer for the intentions of the Holy Father and the Episcopal College. The three "conditions" mentioned above are also required for every other plenary indulgence, with the only difference that the prayer, according to the general norms, is said for the intentions of the Holy Father, while in this circumstance the Holy Father himself (cf. Letter to Cardinal de Ftirs-tenberg, quoted above) has wished to associate the intentions of the Bishops with his own. For the fulfillment of the conditions (cf. Norms, nn. 27, 28 and 29), the following should be noted: " (a) Communion and prayer for the intentions of the Holy Father and of the Episcopal College should be on the same day on which the pilgrimage is made, but they may be before or afterwards. (b) To fulfill the condition of prayer for the intentions of the Holy Father and the Bishops, the faithful may recite a prayer of their own choice. (c) As for sacramental confession, in order to be able to make it un-hurriedly, it can be made even twenty days before or after the pilgrimage. It should also be remembered that confession must be made even by those who do not feel any serious guilt on their conscience; that it is required on the occasion of any plenary indulgence, but even more so for the Jubilee indulgence because of the particular commitment of purification and re-newal that the Holy Year entails. The confession, in fact, if the penitent so desires and the confessor con-s~ ders ~t useful, may ~nclude not only the s~ns since the last good confession, Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 but also the sins of a longer period of time to facilitate a deeper renewal of life. Furtherra~ore, to facilitate the faithful in making their individual con-fession, the recommendation that there should be confessors available "on the days and at the hours established for the convenience of the faithful" (cf. Normae~ pastorales of the S0 Congr. of the Doctrine of the Faith. 16 June 1972, AAS 64, 1972, page 513), is especially applicable for the Holy Year. (d) During .the Holy Year it is also ct~stomary to grant confessors special faculties in order that, if necessary, they"can absolve penitents in some cases, usually "reserved" to higher authority, without the obligation of re-course to the Bishop or to other competent Superior or to the Holy See. During the first phase of the Holy Year, which is celebrated in the vari-ous local Churches, the Bishops can make provision in this regard by grant-ing, at least to the more experienced confessors, the ample faculties at their disposal (cf. M.P. Pastorale munus of 30 November 1963, n. 14: AAS 56, 1964, p. 8). 4. Mention was also made above, in a generic way, of the "norms in force." It will be sufficient to recall here expressly the following two: (a) Every indulgence can" be applied to the dead by way of suffrage (norm 4). (b) The plenary indulgence can be acquired only once a day (norm 24, 1). Religious Life: Style or Culture? Vincent P. Branick, S.M. Father Vincent P. Branick, S.M., teaches Scripture and philosophy at Chaminade College of Honolulu; 3140 Waialae Avenue; Honolulu, Hawaii 96816. Paradoxically, loneliness has appeared most intensely in communities which have accepted in full seriousness the needs of the individual to express and communicate his unique personality. Groups which have sacrificed rich traditions to avoid the suffocation of their members in a mass of impersonal structures, congregations which have radically reformed their rules in quest of a truly personalized life have found their members suffering an over-whelming sense of isolation and lack of social maturity, to the extent of a serious weakening or even destruction of~their religious vocation. The Loss of Religious Culture Obviously, the ideals of personalism governing these reforms are not false. The evident validity of these ideals has led administrators to hold to the reforms in the face of their congregations' equally evident devitaliza-tion and even extinction. The mistake lies not in the ideals but in an un-recognized consequence resulting from an oversimplified pursuit of these ideals, namely, in the loss of religious culture. Many young people who came to religious life with a profound desire to be religious are leaving for the lack of a religious culture in which they could live. Many older religous are retreating into a comfortable bachelorhood for want of a religious cul-ture in which they could grow. What is this missing culture? Culture in General In its fundamental sense, a culture is a milieu or atmosphere in which 29 30 / Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 the human person can express his heartfelt values and through which he can communicate with others about these values. A culture is a consistent pat-tern of practices and manners which specify a shared approach to life, a familiar environment in which an individual finds himself, in which he can feel "at home." This fundamental sense of culture appears most strikingly in the cele-bration of a folk-festival. A nation celebrating itself gathers up its heritage, dances, and contests as a reminder of all that its members have in common. The songs a people sings are truly its songs. These are the songs which its ancestors sang and which likewise catalyzed its ancestors' sense of identity. Through these traditioned customs a nation can celebrate its solidarity in the present and its link to its past. Thus, a folk-festival is not a celebration separated from daily life, but rather an intensification of elements active in a lesser way throughout the daily life of a people, binding a people together. The stranger can visit and enjoy the celebration, but he can never fully par-ti~ ipate in it. He is not of the same culture. Culture as a Social Reality In its more common meaning as a complex of refinements and sensi-bilities, culture is likewise basically a social concept. The "cultivated" per-son is one whose sensibilities have been refined to perceive the beauty of the art and customs of a nation, to understand and use the language and literature that bind a people together, ultimately to understand the languages and customs that bind all men together. The use of such refinement as a device for. mere self-display produces a grotesque caricature, confusing cul-ture. with snobbery. True culture is essentially a social reality. The cultivated person is one who has mastered.the symbols of a society, the symbols which are the means of communication within that scciety. As a social reality, culture is an extension of the human body's ability to symbolize the soul to others. It is an extension produced by a consistent use of many details of life, perhaps insignificant in themselves but very sig-nificant in the pattern they form together. This extension is accomplished with other persons, who together create a circle of common gestures, lan-guage, dress, and other customs, a circle in which each individual feels at home, in which he can express himself and be confident,of understanding, since he is communicating with others in a familiar medium. The N~ed of Every Man for a Culture Every man needs such a culture in which to grow. The man in society needs to feel a certain rhythm about him which he knows and which he can use as a sounding board for his inner life, allowing him to concretize and control that inner life and, above all, to share it with others. Even the her-mit has taken with him his language and his manners which remain at least an unconscious reminder of the people he knows and which .allow him to Religious Li]e: Style or Culture? / 31 express to himself the life he is leading. The man without a culture is the barbarian, the one incapable of using the symbols of communication, the conventions of sharing; thus he is reduced to grunting his basic needs. Far from suppressing individual persons and ideas, the discipline of a culture provides a man with the means of expressing and developing his individuality. The great poets expressed their genius not by creating new and private languages, but by mastering their mother tongues. Perhaps the great attraction of the "hippy culture" was its success in mediating a solidarity and communication among its members. The pattern of the many external, insignificant details permitted one member to talk to another. The long, slightly matted hair, the beard, the colorful but bleached clothes, necessarily frayed at the edges, the beads, and above all, the vocabulary--these details, insignificant in themselves, formed a culture within which one hippy could understand another. The apparent contradic-tion between the hippy ideal of freedom in personal expression, on the one hand, and the strict conformity in dress and hair, on the other, can be un-derstood in the light of the enormous importance such details have when taken together to form a culture. Religious Culture In the same way the person who enters religious life needs a culture, The person who wishes to live his Christian life in intense simplicity and poverty, the person who seeks a prolonged meditative prayer needs a pat-tern of bodily symbols to concretize his aspirations, a sounding board against which he can objectify his ideals. Furthermore, he needs others who share his spiritual values and with whom he can communicate. He thus needs an atmosphere or pattern in which he can develop this life and communicate with others about this life. He needs a religious culture. It is not surprising to find at the historical origin of religious life the practice of spiritual di-rection, the practice of communicating profound religious insights and val-ues, oa practice which gradually of itself expanded into a pattern of religious customs, into a complete religious culture. Loss ~f Culture by Focus on Style Many communities .today have lost this sense of religious culture 'by focusing rather on the question of style. The emphasis on personal style in religious life has had the value of underlining the individual differences in a community, differences which enrich a.community. Yet, in fact, this same emphasis on personal style has broken down much of the consistent re-ligious patterns and symbols in congregationsland, as a result, much of the communication among the members. Diverse individuals and groups, each absorbed in its preferred style, became isolated from each other. Frequently one religious no longer knew if.another possessed the same spiritual sensi-bilities, the same interests, the same background on which communication Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 could be based. The least common denominator in a particular community became less and less. As religious life became a "life style," attention shifted from "life" to "style," and individuals charted their courses alone, away from each other. Presupposed in this pluralistic approach was the belief that each mem-ber of a community could work out his style of life by himself. The man who wished austerity could rise early by himself, eat frugally by himself, and by himself develop a contemplative form of prayer. Supposedly, the others in the same community who did not wish to share this desert could avail themselves of more bourgois amusements. This presupposition, however, neglects man's need for a culture. In effect, this emphasis on style has led to the introduction into the con-gregations of diversities normally holding among congregations. A particu-lar community could find itself composed of austere Trappists, Christian hippies, and mere professional bachelors, each with his own spirituality, each with his own style. Sharing the same province or even living under the same roof, members of communities began to look like strangers to each other. The fundamental element of religious life, spiritual direction, be-came impossible. Prayer life broke down, not through laziness, but through loneliness, through the inability to communicate with others about one's prayer. Formation of recruits became an impossible task, often involving a series of contradictory instructions as a young person passed from the recruiting community, to the novice master, and on through the stages of formation. Rebuilding Religious Culture At present most attempts to rebuild the bond among the members of a community tend in two distinct ways.', the one "theoretical," the other "recreational." The first consists of an attempt to find and concentrate on "the essen-tials." In the face of a bewildering variety of life styles, many communities have sought to articulate the essence of their life, the core reality that every-one could accept, on which everyone could concentrate, allowing then the accidentals to vary according to individual preferences. The theologians were asked to present in clear terms the essence of religious life. General chapters met and held their breath, waiting for this description of the essence. They will probably continue to wait for some time, because the task of articulating the essence of such a concrete and mysterious reality as re-ligious life appears as an impossible job. Whatever "essential trait" is sei~ed upon, whether some particular vow, the three vows, or community life, there appears in history or in the present some obviously religious form of life that flourished or is presently flourishing without it. The appeal to ca-nonical definitions likewise fails to point out an essence of the life, since Religious Li]e: Style or Culture? / 33 these definitions appear more as descriptions after the fact, more as arti-ficially clear and distinct deliniations required for the legal functioning of the Church than as theological penetrations into the fundamental structure of the life. Like peeling away the successive skins to find the onion, the-ologians peeled away the "accidents" but found little left to identify as an essence. The second method of rebuilding the bond among the members of a community is far more down to earth and consists on stressing "the com-mon fun." While awaiting the perfect theology of religious life, people can do something practical. They can recreate together and in that recreation seek to build a community. Such suggestions as "Let's fire the cook and make our own meals together!" or "Everybody in the club room tonight for cocktails!" often clothe desperate attempts to build community. Certainly this effort has served well by focusing on the real need for sim-ple friendliness in communities (to say nothing of the marvelous cooks pro-duced). Yet the idea of common life meant more to the ancients than our attempts at common fun. Such a shallow basis of life does not attract dedi-cated young people. If all they see is this recreational aspect of our lives, they will hardly be convinced to sacrifice spouse and children for a con-viviality that can never approximate the intensity and warmth of a natural family. The community recreation is important, but it can never form the basis of religious common life. The Need to Reestablish a Religious Culture The isolation and loneliness vitiating communities can be overcome only by reestablishing a whole religious culture, a consistent and relatively stable milieu in which religious can feel at home as religious, a pattern of con-crete practices through which one religious can express his deep spiritual values to another. The precise culture will vary with each congregation. Any form, how-ever, will demand certain general lines. First, a religious culture demands an attention to a multitude of accidental details, many of which when taken alone may appear insignificant and even superficial. Neither the cut of the clothes, nor the simplicity in a house, nor the hour of rising appears worthy of an intense crusade. It is useless to seek a rationale directly behind such details, and the temptation exists to peel them away one by one, to peel them away as though from some essential core. Yet insofar as it is a cul-ture, the essence of religious life may be inseparable from the sum total of the "accidents." A religious culture does not stand or fall with any particu-lar detail, but the simple removal of each accidental reduces by that much the identifiability of that culture. Second, any religious culture is necessarily built around the form of prayer of the community, more specifically, around the degree of con-templation a community chooses to practice. A particular type of prayer 34 / Review for Religious, l/olume 33, 1974/1 often requires an ambience, a degree of calm, a type of simplicity regulat-ing the details of the whole day. Conversely, a particular form of contempla-tive prayer colors all else: personal service, the celebration of the Eucharist, professional work. The type and degree of mental prayer is thus a key ele-ment in any religious culture. Third, religious culture, like any culture, requires a willingness of the members to sacrifice personal preferences for the consistency of a com-munity atmosphere, to place a social culture before a personal style. This is not to say that the culture must take the form of some immobile mass of customs. Customs must evolve. As practices no longer serve to communicate the spiritual inspiration of a community, as gestures lose their symbolic values, they should disappear. However, a culture must change as a culture. It must evolve on,the basis of other more stable elements, not on the basis of members darting off in their own directions, according to the demands of personal style. ¯ Within the context of such a religious culture, the search for the essence of religious life can continue, guided not simply by an abstract analysis, but, .more importantly, by a lived contact with the reality. Since religious life is received by man as gift, not produced by him as invention, since the life is fundamentally beyond his natural powers, he will probably never attain that clear insight into the nature of the life that results in a precise defini-tion. Our speech about religious life will probably always be dominated more by poetic intuition than by abstract concept, a poetic intuition that feels at home with small details and operates from a position within the object spoken of. Likewise, the efforts to improve community recreation should have an important part in the building of religious culture. The simple kindness and conviviality of a community recreation can be a powerful expression of the fundamental value of fraternal love, if this expression is part of a greater milieu. Culture and Personal Development Where the individual religious finds a living and consistent culture, there he will find the medium in which to express his unique individuality. In the expressed solidarity of a group, a member has the means of developing a truly personalized life. There he has the means of expressing for himself and for others his unique riches. A culture which involves even many small details will not stifle individuality. As the expression of the spirit, a culture will function as a guide and an agent of personal development. Only a vibrant culture in religious life will dispel the present loneliness. Size and the Cohesiveness of Groups of Religious Sister Jane Marie Kerns, S.H.C.J. Sister Jane Marie is a faculty member of West Catholic Girls High School and,lives at the Convent of the Holy Child Jesus; 4724 Cedar Avenue; Philadelphia, Pennsyl-vania 19143. ~ Six years have passed since the CMSW undertook the monumental study known as the Sisters Survey in an attempt to delve into the thinking and feelings of the religious who participated. Prescinding from the reported findings, one can suspect that even the launching of such a study had value simply as a consciousness-raising device. Foremost among the areas of re-ligious life that came under scrutiny was the, dynamics of group living that we call community life. Explosive--because it is inescapably personal-- and sacrosanct--because it is integral to religious traditions and the essence of religious life as we understand it, the whole topic of group living by re-ligious is subject to biased interpretations. Why? Perhaps just because celibates need so much from community life. Perhaps just because we de, pend so much on life in community to underwrite the whole structure of the social apostolates in which we engage. Perhaps just because an ideal form of community life promises to make tangible and present the kingdom of God toward which we daily strive. Size and Cohesiveness Whatever the reason, there can be no doubt that community is a prime concern among religious and that size as related to cohesion is a pivotal area. In order to bring empirical objectivity into an issue clouded with un-conscious and often conflicting biases, the author undertook a research 35 36 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 project designed to investigate the effects of size on the cohesiveness of groups of religious living together in local communities. By devising a method to quantify the degree of cohesion exhibited through the affective choices made by members of several large and small communities, it was possible to make a comparison based on evidence more objective than opinion and more concrete than theory. Background The CMSW Survey in 1967 showed that 59.7% of the 125,000 sisters who responded to it felt that there was an optimal size of community groups beyond which it would be impossible for members living together to become a community. (Though the Survey did not define the term com-munity, it is patent from much of the literature of the day that sisters under-stand some special sense of fraternity and solidarity or cohesiveness that should be characteristic of the shared life of religious who live together.) Among the Sisters of the Holy Child Jesus, who were the subjects of the research project on which this article is based, an even greater majority-- 78.2%--concurred in the opinion expressed on the CMSW Survey instru-ment. In subsequent years a plethora of literature praising small group living has led to a general belief among religious in the therapeutic value of the small local community as the preventative for malformation of personality and as a booster shot for personal fulfillment through the healthy human interaction indispensable for strong ego-building? The impetus for the renewal of religious life given by Vatican II in-corporated much that flowed from the best developments of social psy-chology. In this context the drive to revivify the apostolate of the Church required that religious orders of men and women march in tune with the personalism of the culture of which they are a part. Definition of the Problem From this two-pronged incentive of development in the social sciences and updating in the Church, there arose interest in the applicability of many facets of small group research to religious communities. Focusing on the i~ssumptions that in a given group (1) more frequent interaction conse-quent on smaller nfimbers of members tends to produce more cohesive groups and (2) members of a small cohesive group will experience more strong satisfying interpersonal relationships than members of a larger group, the author undertook an empirical study of eleven groups of re-ligious sisters for the purpose of developing an index of cohesiveness that would enable comparisons to be made between larger and smaller groups, 1Gabriel Moran and Maria Harris, Experiences in Community (New York: Herder and Herder, 1968). This is one of many possible examples. Size and the Cohesiveness of Groups of Religious and thus promise an objective test of the hypotheses involved. In brief, those hypotheses state that community size will have a signifi-cant effect both on the number of members with whom one can have good positive relationships and also on the proportionate number of people in community with whom one can have such relationships. Definilion of Key Words Certain key words must be defined in accordance with their use in this ¯ study in order to provide a common working base. The following appear to be most important: 1. cohesion 2. good, positive relationship 3. group--small, large Because of characteristics peculiar to religious orders, the task of defining terms is more complicated than simply borrowing from highly quoted au-thors in the field. A method of definition by distillation was employed in areas where circumstances required. A prime example was the term cohesion. In consulting authors,~ one is confronted with a notion of forces constraining members to remain in the group. But there is nothing in the literature that seems to correspond to the force of perpetual vows which bind the religious to membership in the re-ligious institute and to residence in specific local communities according to the directives from authorities in the order. Two levels of "force" are in-herent in the situation of the religious. One revolves around the strength of his commitment to the religious life itself and the second around the de-gree of commitment with which he engages in the affairs of the local house in which he lives--a commitment arising basically from a sense of duty toward an ideal based outside of the group in which he lives. A third force, distinct from the levels mentioned above, yet probably to some extent conditioned by his whole approach to religious life, is the at-traction that the local community holds for the religious by reason of the rapport he feels with particular members of that given group at any one time. Since all the groups used in this study operate under the same two forces resulting from religious profession in the order, it appears that the third type of force is more germane to our purposes here. Therefore, cohe-sion in this study denoted ". the degree of attachment (involvement, be-longingness, importance) that members have for the group.":' In this con-text then cohesion refers to the obvious capacity of the group to satisfy the ~The writings of men like Cartwright and Zander or Festinger, Schachter, and Back are typical. :~Clovis R. Shepherd, Small Groups: Some Sociological Perspectives (San Francisco: Chandler, 1964), p. 25. 311 / Review [or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 personal needs of its members. It is this connotation that is meant by "strong, satisfying, interpersonal relationships" referred to in the second assumption; and this is the definition of good, positive relationships used in this work. (Though use of the word "friendship" might be a more graceful way of ex-pressing these ideas, its use is being purposefully avoided to.allow for a more open-ended definition of friendship to be employed later in the pre-sentation. ) By small groups, we shall mean groups of between 6 and 11 members and the large groups used in the study ranged from 12 to 29. Procedure The procedure used in the research involved a sociogram-like type of questionnaire in which the respondents were asked to list any number of sisters with whom they had lived during the last year and with whom they would enjoy engaging in a series of activities ranging from purely recrea-tional, to work related, to deeper, more intimate sharing on the religious plane. In every situation the emphasis was on the natural affectivity of one sister for her companions and not any exercise of supernatural charity? Approximately 91% of the sisters responded thus providing the researcher with excellent material from which to construct four measures of cohesion. Three of these stemmed from analysis of who chose whom and how often. By diagrammatically presenting the chain of relationships resulting from tracing the choices of the most frequently chosen individuals as they re-lated to the others in. community, a distance factor was developed. Finally, a study was made of the average number of "good friends" that the sisters INDEX OF COHESION AS DEVELOPED THROUGH THIS STUDY Community z-score corrected distance use of per- average size order ranking z-scores factor sonality votes rank " A 1 1 1 1 1 B 3 2 2 2 2 C 8 3 5 6 6 D 2 5 4 4 3 E 4 7 3 5 4 F 5 6 9 9 7 G 6 4 7 3 5 H 9 10 8 8 l0 I ll 11 6 7 8.5 J 7 8 10 10 8.5 K 10 9 11 11 I1 4For a complete exposition of the steps involved in the research readers are referred to the original work by the author, Sister Jane Marie Kerns, A Quantitative Analysis o[ Size and Cohesion (unpublished M.A. thesis, St. Louis University, 1973). Size and the Cohesiveness oI Groups of Religious / 39 in each house claimed. In this phase of the project each respondent was permitted to define the phrase "good friend" in any way that she felt was adequate and then she was asked to tell how many such "good friends" she had in the~ community in which she lived. Analysis of this section revolved around both the absolute number of good friends claimed and the number proportionate to the size of the community. Interpretation of Results A word of caution is in order here. Before any interpretation of the results can be presented, it must be remembered that this study was de-signed to measure relative cohesion only. It cannot be stretched to comment on disunity, on morale, or on working efficiency of the groups involved; and it must be seen as a measure of natural affectivity--a factor which cannot be assumed to be the dominant motive force for most of the group's activity. This caution is necessary both to maintain a scientific discipline and also to prevent our losing sight of the supernatural aspects of community life that cannot have been explored in this kind of work. Be that as it may, it is still remarkable to notice that the study revealed the presence of no isolates--persons not chosen by any other members of a group--in any of the eleven communities totaling 141 religious. Not only are there no iso-lates, but in actual count there is no, member of any community who was not chosen by at /east 21% of the members of the community who re-plied--- by no fewer than 50% of the members in 7 out of the 1! com-munities. Therefore, it can be insisted that we are justified only in conclud-ing to relatively more or less cohesion but not to any implication of disunity or disaffection. Size as a Significant Factor It can be stated unequivocally that the empirical evidence presented points to size as a significant factor in the study of cohesion. There is every reason to conclude that the smaller, the group, the more the members demonstrate stronger natural choices for a wider segment of the group. But hidden within this general overall conclusion are several important considerations that must be brought to light. Whereas the techniques used here demonstrated the validity of the commonly held belief that small groups tend to be more cohesive, the ques-tion dealing with friendship upset the commonly held expectation that more good friendships are found within small groups and that theoexistence of such friendships is the reason for greater cohesion. From our study the results indicated that such a line o[ r~easoning is faulty. In the first place, smaller houses reported neither a greater number of friendships absolutely nor a greater number proportionately speaking. Hence, friendship and co-hesion are not synonymous nor are they positively related. Rather, it might be concluded that they are alternatives within the group process. 40 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 Two possible lines of thought might be adduced to explain the seeming contradictions posed by the fifth stage of the investigation. First, by de-veloping and combining some of the thought of Simmel~ and of Mancur Olson'~ with regard to small groups, a synthesis can be arrived at which sheds light on the subject. Simmel's contribution springs from his conten-tions that smaller groups have qualities, including types of interaction among their members, which inevitably disappear when the groups grow larger. Olson points to a major difference between large and small groups when he formulates as a principle: ". the larger the group, the less it will further its common interests." Second, by appropriating some of the insights of Sister Joan Michele Rake7 and blending them with the thought of Simmel and Olson, the contradiction of fewer friendships in more cohesive groups is dissolved. Sister Joan Michele draws the boundaries between "engulf-ment" by the community and self-development of the healthy religious who makes good use of the structures of community. Hers is not so much a study of the effect of size but rather a clarification of issues on some of the dynamics at work in any group. The Specifics of Small Groups Consider the relative investment that members of a small group must make in order to obtain the benefits of membership and conversely the mag-nitude of the slack that must be taken up by the remaining members if one member fails to carry his own weight. More specifically, consider the num-ber of functions that must bc performed smoothly if life in the house is to be mutually beneficial. Since the small group enables not only face-to-face rela-tionships but even more importantly, person-to-person contact and consul-tation, many of the decisions reached and the functions implicit in the religious life lived in community are arrived at and disseminated tacitly. For example, each one knows from personal experience that does not need explicitation that communal worship can only be consummated if the com-munity is present and each one knows that in a small house her absence is both noticed and keenly felt. The differential involved is not merely a quan-titative one, but actually a qualitative one. There is a certain unspecified number below which communal worship declines into merely a collection of individuals attending the same liturgical function. And it is this height-ened sense of awareness of the qualitative contribution made by personal participation of each that typifies the small group. Person-to-person contact makes possible agreement--implicit or ex-plicit-- on common goals of a more specific nature than can be formulated '~Kurt H. Wolff, The Sociology o] Georg Simmel (Glencoe: Free Press, 1950), p. 87. ~;Mancur Olson, The Logic o] Collective Action (New York: Schocken, 1968), p. 36. rSister Joan Michele Rake, Friendship in Religious Li]e (unpublished M.A. thesis, Duquesne University, 1969), Chap. 7. Size and the Cohesiveness of Groups o]. Religious / 41 when a larger number of individuals is involved. And converSely, devia-tion from the commonly accepted ideas is more obvious and therefore re-quires more of an expenditure of psychic energy for continued adherence on the part of the deviant and more of an effort on the part of the group as a whole to combat either by modifying the idea or by converting the deviant member. Whether we speak of positive elements that tend to unite or of negative elements that tend to threaten the group's solidarity, there is more immediate response required, a greater expenditure of personal effort on the part of each member in the small group, and a return in the way of benefits of group membership commensurate with the effort expended. The Specifics of Large Groups In the large group the sahae level of return is expected, but the level of expectation of individual participation is lower. Since person-to-person com-munication on. :every issue and between every set of persons is too time-consuming and too indeterminate in the process of seeking consensus, cer-tain abstractions in the form of community mechanisms, offices, and so forth must be established and these become looked upon as the expression of group cohesion that can no longer be immediately and obviously attained. The areas of shared ideas becom6 somewhat more general and, therefore, more readily acceptable to the total group in spite of the greater variety of opinions. In turn these more abstract expressions of relations and more general types of agreements require less commitment on the part of the individual. Though the ideas themselves may be less "radical," less basically rooted in the peculiar characteristics of the group, more generalized, ad-herence to the ideas becomes more radical, more a bare minimum that can-not be sacrificed if group unity is to be maintaini~d. A full complement of the members is not required to constitute a "com-munity presence." Absenteeism is not as noticeable--certainly not as per-tains to the particular individual who is absent, since her personal contribu-tion has in some ways become distanced or formalized in the large group setting. Differences between Small and Large Groups Wha~t results from the above discussion is an argument to the effect that the demonstrably greater cohesion among the small group members results more from a heightened sense of personal investment and personal con-cern, a greater consciousness of the personal element in the affairs of the house, a greater consonance between the individual's own approach to life since his personality enters more fully into the determination of group atti-tudes, a greater sense of the interdependence of the persons in the com-munity in all its affairs---especially because they answer directly to and for each other. In the larger group some degree of personalism is lost as the sheer force of numbers demands some degree of abstraction and the substi- Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 tution of shared symbols that can be immediately present to all when the person-to-person common search for common understanding is not practi-cal, The sense of interdependence is therefore "once removed" with the result that the individual who has to expend less of herself in contributing to and in conforming to more general ideas is then .freer to develop inde-pendently of the group in more areas. Not only is there in larger groups more room for individualism to fluorish and a greater variety of personality types emerging (assuming of course the absence of any rigorous pressure to conform in all respects), but this sharper differentiation among component personalities enables stronger, more particularized dyadic relationships to de-velop out of the shared responses. Hence, we see the application of Simmel's principle that the quantitative increase in size of a group leads to a qualitative differentiation ~on the part of the individuals.8 Simmel holds that an individual tends to maintain a certain balance between the social and the individual aspects of his life. When he is involvi~d in a small group with a high profile for cohesiveness or for strong identity as a group, he has little opportunity to express his own individuality--and little need to do so since there is satisfaction offered in the group. But when he is involved in a larger group with a less ~iell-defined profile, °one that is less consonant with his unique personality since it is necessarily more generalized, he then finds scope--indeed he must--to express his individuality. As the group gains in individuality ~(a situation that pertains to small groups), the individual loses and vice versa. The Question of Friendship Sister Joan Michele believes that wherever the "corporate mentality" is strong among religious--that is, a tendency to look on the group life as an exercise in efficiency--it will be more difficult for 'real friendships to grow. If friendship is ". an encounter between two persons. [which] results in an enduring nonexclusive relation which is lived as a gift of affinity and affection and occasions the autonomous growth of the persons involved,''~ it can only flourish where there is a real encounter of unique personalities --personalities well-developed, mature, sharing a common ground in .their search for truth, and coming, as it were, by chance upoh an unconscious, mysterious affinity that raises comrades, colleagues, and companions. above those levels of association to a new plane that is by no means the necessary consequence of living in community. Precisely what dynamics are generated by the presence of more or fewer dyadic relationships could not be explored in this project since the identity of "good friends" was not revealed; but it has been necessary to digress into these areas ever so slightly, simply to make the point that the cfn-~ 8Wolff, The Sociology o! Simmel, p. 87. '~Rake, Friendship, p. 52. Size and the Cohesiveness of Groups of Religious / 43 clusions reached in this research are quite validly and integrally consistent with the general direction of small group theory. Yet there is real danger that they may lend themselves to simplistic interpretations that do not con-vey the whole picture. The research has confirmed the theory that (1) community size does have a significant effect on the number of members with whom one can have good, positive relationships---both the absolute number and the proportionate number of members; and that (2) the smaller size communities are the ones that exhibit these good, posi-tive relationships more frequently. Equally important, however, are the findings resulting from the question on friendship; namely, the members living in larger groups tend to report both a greater number of "good friends" and to consider a greater proportion of members of the com-munity in the category of "good friends." The above statement when coupled with the theory of writers like Van Kaam, Sister Joan Michele, and even classical authors such as Simmel indi-cates there are ways in which the more cohesive small groups are at the same time more restricted in opportunities for developing friendship and that friendship might actually exist as an alternative to cohesiveness, not as a concomitant element. Practical Conclusions Taking a step beyond the scientifically validated conclusions of the study itself and addressing the practical value of all this for the present-day religious community, there are perhaps two major points to be considered. The first point of practical concern for religious is the importance of the absence of isolates from the communities studied and the commentary this is on the ability of religious who share the overall goals of the religious institute to assimilate members into a community even when religious have no voice in choosing where or with whom they will live. Though this point cannot be pushed beyond the limits mentioned earlier, it can be cited as evidence that the freedom in assigning personnel that has been a plus factor enabling religious groups to function efficiently in the apostolate is not in and of itself incompatible with the desire to provide living condi-tions that foster good interpersonal relationships. The second point to be made is that decisions regarding community size (where circumstances allow for either possibility) might reasonably be made in favor of smaller community groups at a time when the call to re-newal emphasizes our need to search together for a more radical commit-ment to the essence of religious life. If sociologists and psychologists are correct in their assessment of the differential in ability of various size groups to reach consensus at various levels of abstraction, certainly religious would do well to make use of this knowledge in their efforts to re-create 44 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 in the Spirit the shared faith that brought their institutes into being. Further-more, if the members of congregations are appraised of what can and cannot be achieved in groups of various sizes, realistic expectations can constitute solid foundations auguring well for solid progress. Structures of themselves will never cure. But they can facilitate if used wisely, and they can hinder if used poorly or ignored. Size is not of itself a panacea, nor a Pandora's box. Perhaps we have mistakenly held in the past that the same quality of religious life can exist with six or sixty in the community. As we eschew past folly, let us not perpetuate new foolishness by assuming that small size will do more than facilitate the emergence of a faith sharing which will depend for its quality, not on numbers but on the grace of God realized in the lives of those who grow together toward the fulfillment of their covenant with both God and His People. The Liturgy of the Hours in Religious Communities John Allyn Melloh, S.M. Father John Allyn Melloh, S.M., a member of the School of Divinity of St. Louis University, lives at the Marianist Residence; 4528 Maryland Avenue; St. Louis, Missouri 63108. The Liturgy of the Hours should not be looked on as a beautiful monument of a past age, to be preserved almost unchanged in order to excite our admira-tion. On the contrary, it should come to life again with new meaning and grow to become once more the sign of a living community.--The General Instruc-tion on the Liturgy of the Hours, paragraph 273 Reform, renewal, restoration of the liturgy is always one of the paramount concerns of any ecumenical council; Vatican II was no exception. Desirous of "imparting an ever increasing vigor to the Christian life of the faithful" (Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy, paragraph 1), the Council fathers placed liturgical reform top on the list of their priorities. If the liturgical celebrations of the People of God were to be a "foretaste of that heavenly liturgy which is celebrated in the holy city of Jerusalem toward which we journey as pilgrims" (Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy, paragraph 8), then much renewal was needed, lest the pilgrim people of Yahweh seek a new city-~one where celebration was indeed a reality! Restoration of Eucharistic praxis, as well as an updating of other sacra-mental ritual celebrations, was essential for the nourishment of Christian piety and the mediation of the salvific graces to all mankind (Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy, paragraph 1 !). Equally important for the liturgical life of the ekklesia was the restoration of the Divine Office, the Liturgy of the Hours, the "public prayer of the Church" (Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy, paragraph 90). In the age of aggiornamento, this "wonderful song 45 46 / Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 of praise" (Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy, paragraph 84), which had all but entirely disappeared, had to be revived; and a genuine "revival" was needed for the "voice of the bride addressed to her bridegroom" (Constitu-tion on the Sacred Liturgy, paragraph 83) had become mute. This "very prayer which Christ himself, together with his body, addresses to the Father," had become, over the ages, a prayer which Christ, along with a few isolated members--becoming fewer day by day--of His Church addressed to the Father. The opus Dei had become the onus Dei.t General Instruction on the Liturgy of the Hours Almost ten years later, in February 1971, the Sacred Congregation of Divine Worship issued the General Instruction on the Liturgy of the Hours. In five chapters, full of good solid Christology, ecclesiology, and spirituality, this document speaks of the Liturgy of the Hours as a viable prayer form for the Church--even in 1973! Perhaps one of the most significant Roman documents issued of late, and certainly the longest and most theological document ever issued on the topic of the Divine Office, the General Instruc-tion makes clear that the intent is the restoration and revitalization of the Liturgy of the Hours. The "ptiblic and communal prayer of the people of God is rightly considered among the first duties of the Church" (General Instruction, paragraph 1), for the ekklesia is most itself, achieves its own special identity, and fulfills its mission when the assembly is together at prayer, especially at liturgical prayer. Vatican II has consciously and firmly asked that~the Liturgy of the Hours once again be prayed, that this prayer form once again be given life by the living People of God--that it may become a living prayer and that the entire Church may "offer praise to God . . . in singing that canticle of praise which is sung throughout all ages in the halls of heaven" (General Instruction, paragraph 16). The New Book of the Liturgy of the Hours A day to be hailed in litui'gical circles was 23 June, 1971, for on that day, L'osservatore romano published Laudis canticum, officially promulgat-ing the new book of the Liturgy of the Hours. The work of Vatican II and its liturgical commission had borne fruit. The new edition of that book once called the "Breviary" had been arranged and prepared in such a way as to encourage the faithful to celebrate the hours. Once again, this necessary complement to Eucharistic worship and sacramental practice was restored so that it would become "the prayer of the whole people of God" (Laudis canticum, L'osservatore romano, page 1 ). At least now there was a chance that should one of the faithful stumble across the Prayer of Christians he might recognize it! In the new edition--albeit interim--of the Liturgy of the Hours genuine reforms were made. Structure of the hours was modified, the cycle of Psalmody changed, intercessor3/prayer introduced--all with a view to pub- The Liturgy of the Hours in Religious Communities / 47 lic celebration of the Hours of Prayer. In its restored form, the Divine Office was to be a "font of piety and nourishment for personal prayer" (Laudis canticum, L'osservatore romano, page 1 ). Toward a Revitalized Celebration The documents of Vatican II, the General Instruction on the Liturgy of the Hours, Laudis canticum--all ask that the prayer of Christ be con-tinued by the members of His Body; earnestly they request that this prayer of Jesus be continued in the revitalized celebration of the Liturgy of the Hour's. It is in our spatio-temporal matrix that groups of praying men and women can continue this prayer of the Lord who lives ever making inter-cession for us (Heb 7:25). Communal prayer will once again take root in the Church at large, replacing, in part, private prayer, especially that form of private recitation of the Office which is a liturgical anomaly. Once again the Church-united may celebrate the prayer of the Hours "to give Him glorious praise" (Ps 66:2). The General Instruction on the Litu.rgy of the Hours, despite the wealth of genuine theological principles and very fine material for meditative re-flection, is rather weak in detailing how the Liturgy of the Hours may "be celebrated in communities--"celebrated" as opposed to "recited," "said," or "read." In the following pages, it is my intent to ,describe how the Liturgy of the Hours is celebrated in our Marianist community in St.Louis, Missouri; likewise, since Evensong was celebrated each evening at St. Mary's University in San Antonio, Texas, during the. 1973 summer session, using the same format of celebration, I would like to include comments from those who participated in those liturgical celebrations. Morning Praise Matins consecrates to God the first movements of our minds and hearts; no other care should engage us before we have been moved with the thought of God, as it is written, "I thought of God and sighed" (Ps 76:4), nor should the body undertake any work before we have done what is said, "I say this prayer to you, Lord, for at daybreak you listen for my voice; and at dawn I hold myself in readiness for you, I watch for you" (Ps 5:4-5).--The General Instruction on the Liturgy o] the Hours, paragraph 38; quotation from St. Basil Morning itself conveys the notion of rebirth and renewal; the gift of God--a new day to be lived out in Christ--stirs the soul of the Christian to prais.e and to supplicationl The character of the Morning Office quite naturally becomes an act of dedication, of preparation, of offering the first fruits of the day's labor to the Lord, in the hope that the entire day will be pleasing in His sight. As Morning Praise is celebrated in our community, a vested celebrant enters the chapel and greets the community after reverencing the altar. A Morning Hymn is sung; this hymn thematically recalls the symbol of God who is light (1 Jn 1:5) and of Christ who is the Sun of Justice (Mal 4:2). Review for Religious, I"olume 33, 1974/1 Praise and thanksgiving for light--both natural and supernatural-colors the sung praise of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. A redeemed people, brought from darkness to the kingdom of God's beloved Son (Col l:13), from darkness of idolatry to the light of the Gospel, we praise our God for crea-tion, for redemption--for the light of day and the light of Christ. A brief penitential rite--an offering of incense--follows the hymn. During the incensation of the standing community, Psalm 51 or 63 is sung. St. Basil explains: "When day is breaking, all together, as from one heart, sing the Psalm of confession [Ps 51] to the Lord, each one making his own these words of repentance." John Chrysostom points out that Psalm 63, an ardent cry of longing for the Lord, is also a Psalm of purification, giving voice to the Christian's awareness of his weakness and need for the loving mercy of the Lord. A collect concludes this brief prayer for purification and readies the community for the celebration of the Word of God. The community is seated during the singing of the morning Psalmody. Psalms of praise, especially the traditional morning Psalms 148 through 150, are used. Ordinarily, only one Psalm is sung and the usual mode of singing is responsorial. Psalms are chosen according to themes well suited for a morning prayer. A significant pause for silent prayer follows the singing of the Psalmody. An appropriate Psalter collect, stressing praise of the beneficent God, concludes the sung Psalmody. An adequate rhythm of community prayer is enhanced through the use of lectio continua in Morning Praise. Especially appropriate are Old Testa-ment selections; since the Epistles and Gospels are proclaimed during the celebration of Evensong or the Eucharist. The choice of readings varies with the Church year. After a period of silence of several minutes, all stand for the singing of the Gospel Canticle of Zachary, which accompanies the offering of incense. As a symbol of intercessory prayer "going up" in the Lord's sight (Rev 8:3-4)--a survival of the Temple usages described in Exodus 29 and 30-- the offering of incense is made at the altar, which is then incensed. Intercessory prayer is generally a brief morning litany which concen-trates on themes of renewal, dedication for the work of the day, prayer for God's continual blessing throughout the day. Usually the prayer is sung; and on penitential days the community kneels for this prayer, which is con-cluded by an appropriate collect. The Lord's Prayer, which Tertullian has called the "epitome of the Gospel itself," that eschatological prayer which stresses the primacy of the kingdom and the life of those living in it, can be considered the climax of the Office. The prayer is always sung and the congregation prays it in the usual orans position. A blessing concludes the Morning Office--the prayer of praise of God, of thanksgiving for creation and redemption, and of ardent desire for the life of the Kingdom. The Liturgy of the Hours in Religious Communities / 49 Evensong Our fathers did not think it right to receive the blessing of evening light in silence. Rather, the moment it appeared, they would praise and thank God for it.--St. Basil, Treatise on the Holy Spirit As day is drawing to a close and the evening is upon us, the Christian community gathers to give thanks "for what has been given us during the day, or for the things we have done well during it" (St. Basil, Regulae fusius tractatae, Resp. 37, 3; PG 31, 1015). With an evening light service, the celebration of Evensong commences. To the proclamation: Jesus Christ is the Light of the world! intoned by a vested deacon, the congregation responds: A Light that no darkness can extinguish! During the ceremonial illumination of the church, the lighting of the candles and the lighting of the chapel lights, an evening hymn is sung. Ordinarily the Phos Hilaron is sung in one of its several settings, or another appropriate evening hymn, stressing the theme of Christ our Light, is sung. A diaconal proclamation, an act of thanksgiving for the blessings of light and an act of praise of God, concludes the light service. An evening act of contrition, an offering of incense, follows; and Psalm 141, "The Psalm at the kindling of lights," accompanies the liberal incensa-tion of the community. This offering of incense, an atonement symbol (Num 17:11-3), is a purificatory action. It should help the Christian com-munity recall the "sweet odor of Jesus Christ" (2 Cor 2:14-6) and be a symbol expressive of that saving blood of the Lamb who ever lives to make intercession for us (Heb 7:25). An appropriate Psalter collect is a conclu-sion to this ritual action. Evening Psalmody is sung responsorially. Ordinarily only one Psalm, in addition to Psalm 141, is sung in the evening. Evening themes of thanks-giving for the blessings of the day and repentance for inevitable daily failings can be found in the Psalter. Such Psalms are appropriate for the evening Office. A period of meditative silence of significant length follows the sing-ing, and this period of prayer is concluded with the praying of a collect. The reading from Scripture is taken from the cycle of readings in the new lectionary. Customarily, Epistle and/or Gospel readings are used in the evening. A homily is preached when Evensong is celebrated immediately preceding the community evening dinner. The period of meditative silence is broken by the singing of the Gospel Canticle of the Virgin Mary which accompanies the offering of incense. In line with the use of incense as a symbol of intercessory prayer, the altar is honored with incense to affirm our belief and real participation in the com-munion of saints (Rev 8:3-4). Gospel Canticles, reverenced as the good news of salvation, are always sung standing. A fundamental part of Christian prayer, intercession for the universal needs of the Church and the world, is offered, following the urgings of Paul (1 Tim 2:1-4). The traditional Byzantine Litany of Peace is often 50 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 sung as one form of intercessory prayer. Other litanies are also used. One of the most famous and popular of the Eastern hymns is the Tri-sagion, which came into wide usage after the Council of Chalcedon in the fifth century. A hymn of Trinitarian praise and thanksgiving as used with the doxology, it is a fitting introduction to the prayer given us by Jesus. It is essentially of the same prayer style of praise and thanksgiving as we find in the prayer given by Jesus and as such it is a beautiful sung introduc-tion. Expressing an ardent desire for the coming of the kingdom and a solemn plea for the forgiveness of sin and genuine fraternal reconciliation, the Lord's Prayer is a most fitting conclusion to the Christian Office. A solemn blessing, most often tripartite in form, is the dismissal of the community, an invocation of the power of God upon the assembly and a petition for the mercy and loving kindness of the Almighty Lord in whose name we have gathered. At times, the Kiss of Peace is exchanged at the conclusion of Evensong, as a symbol of the peace of the kingdom, that peace which alone can be given by the Lord of that dominion. ' Resurrection Vigil of the Lord's Day Come,O faithful: let us drink a new drink, produced miraculously not from a barren rock, but springing from the tomb which is a fountain of immortality: the tomb of Christ by which we are strengthened. Glory to your holy resurrection, O Lord! Today the whole creation, he~iven and earth and the deepest abysses of the earth are filled with joy. Let the whole universe celebrate the resurrection by which we are strengthened. Glory to your holy resurrection, O Lord! Yesterday I was buried with You, O Christ! Today I rise with You in your resurrection. Yesterday I was crucified with you: glorify me with you in your kingdom. Glory to your holy resurrection, O Lord! Christ is risen from the dead! He has crushed death by his death and bestowed life upon those who lay in the tomb. Glory to your holy resurrection, O Lord! Jesus is risen indeed, as He had foretold: He has given us eternal life and abundant mercy.--Third Ode, Easter Canon of John of Damascus Byzantine Daily Worship, Easter Sunday, page 849 These words contain the spirit of unrestrained joy of the Christian who encounters the Paschal Mystery of the Lord Jesus. The sense of triumph, of joy, of exultation, and of hope permeate this entire text. While the vigil of the Easter celebration of the resurrection is truly "Mother of all Vigils," nevertheless a weekly commemoration of the Pascha of the Lord is in the mainline tradition of the Church. The celebration of the Resurrection vigil of the Lord's Day, which takes place at eleven o'clock Saturday evening, is a wonderful preparation for the Eucharistic Banquet of the Lord's Day. It is a rich and deep experi-ence of the mystery of the passion, death, and resurrection of our Lord and The Liturgy o] the Hours in Religious Communities / 51 Savior Jesus Christ, celebrated communally with hymnody, Psalmody, and readings. The Night Watch, that time when we gather as a community, to recall the resurrection of Jesus and to pray for His glorious return, is a service of the Word celebrated with grandeur. The chapel is in darkness awaiting the appearance of the New Light. A vested presbyter and vested deacon enter, bearing the lighted Paschal Candle. The diaconal proclamation of Christ as the Light of the World begins the celebration, and the ceremonial illumina-tion of the church is accompanied by the singing of the Phos Hilaron. A Byzantine setting of Radiant Light, arranged for three-part singing, is a magnificent hymn of light praising Father,' Son, and Holy Spirit. The Paschal Candle is honored with incense during the singing. The deacon sings Hip-polytus' Easter Hymn or the Paschal Praeconium, giving voice to the joyful thanksgiving of the Christian assembly. The singing of Psalm 141, with its accompanying offering of incense, is polyphonic. While this ritual action is an evening act of contrition, it is nevertheless a joy-filled, because confident, plea for the loving kindness of the Lord who always awaits with eagerness the return of those who have been unfaithful. Concluding this action of repentance is an appropriate collect. At times the singing of Psalm 141 is omitted in favor of using a differ-ent Psalm, one with Paschal overtones. The second Psalm, sung respon-sorially, takes on a Paschal character through the use of alleluia antiphons. The great cry "Alleluia" re-echoes in the hearts of those who have experi-enced the risen Lord and Psalms of praise express the gratitude of the as-sembly for the Great Passage of the Lord. One of the charismatic speeches recorded in Acts with a sung respon-sorial Psalm or an appropriate patristic reading is the First Lesson, followed by a distinct pause for reflection on and assimilation of the text. The Gospel Alleluia is intoned as the Book of Gbspels is incensed. The account of the Resurrection is sung by the d

Issue 19.2 of the Review for Religious, 1960. ; Review Prayer for the General Council by The Sacred Apostolic Peniten~tiary The Psychological Possibility of Intellectual Obedience by Thoinas Dub'ay, S.M. Temptation: A ÷ R = S by John Carroll Futrell, s.J. Charity the Unifying Principl'e of Religious Life by Sister Consuela Marie, S.B.S. Neuroticism and Perfection by Richard P. Vaughan, S.J. Survey of Roman Documents Views, News, Previews Questions and Answers Book Reviews 65 67 77 83 93 102 106 109 119 . Prayer for the General Council Sacred APostolic Penitentiary [The following prayer and the declaration of the attached indulgences is translated from Acta Apostolicae Sedis.I DIVINE SPIRIT, who were sent by the Father in ~.he name of Jesus and who remain present in the Church to govern her unerringly, pour forth, we ask of You, the fullness of Your gifts upon the ecumenical council. Tenderest of teachers and of comforters, enlighten the minds of our holy prelates who, in eager allegiance to the Roman Pontiff, will make up the assemblies of the sacred synod. Grant that abundant fruit thay come from this council; may the light and the strength of the Gospel be diffused'more deeply and more widely throughout human society; may the Catholic religion and the diligent work of the missions flourish with increased vigor; and may the happy result be a fuller knowledge of the teaching of the Church and a salutary progress in Christian morality. 0 welcome Guest of the soul, establish our minds in truth and bring our hearts to a ready obedience so that what is determined in the council may be sincerely accepted and promptly fulfilled by us. We also pray to You for those sheep who are not yet of the one fold of Jesus Christ; as they glory in the name of Christian, so may they finally come to true unity under the guidance of the one Pastor. By a kind of new Pentecost renew your marvelous works in this our time; .grant to Holy Church that, unanimously and insistently persevering in prayer together with Mary, the Mother of Jesus, she may, under the guidance of St. Peter, enlarge the kingdom of the divine Savior, a kingdom of truth arid of justice, of love and of peace. Amen. September 23, 1959 By virtue of ~he powers given to it by His Holiness John XXIII, the Sacred Apostolic Penitentiary makes the following grants: 1) a partial indulgence of ten years to be gained by the 65 PRAYER FOR THE GENERAL COUNCIL faithful who recite the above prayer devoutly and with contrite heart; 2) once a month a plenary indulgence under the usual conditions if they have :piously recited the prayer for an entire month. All things to the contrary not withstanding. N. Card. CANALI, Penitentiary Major S. de Angelis, Substitute 66 The Psychological Possibility of Intellectual Obedience Thomas Dubay, IF ANYTHING is anathema to our western world it is thought control in whatever guise it may appear. Understandably enough, our democratic horror at the least restriction on freedom of thought and expression strikes a sympathetic note in the heart of the western religious, for even he cannot escape the moods of a pluralistic society. So true is this sympathy for freedom, that not a few religious find the commonly taught doctrine on obedience of the intellect an incomprehensible, if not impossible bit of spirituality. One can encountei good religious whose very constitu-tions carry a stipulation on obedience of the judgment and yet who are almost scandalized by that stipulation, who may even think it a mistaken insertion because they view it either as im-possible of fulfillment or as an unjust attempt to curtail reasonable freedom. In this article we. propose to investigate psychologically the theory and the practice of intellectual obedience, that is, the conforming of one's judgment to the judgment of the superior. We will preface our analysis, however, with a review of the com-monly received doctrine on obedience of the intellect, a doctrine classically enunciated by St. Ignatius of Loyola in his well-known letter on obedience and recently sealed by the strong words of Pope Pius XII in his 1957 address to the General Congregation of the Society of Jesus. What Is Intellectual Obedience? Before answering our question positively, we might with profit dwell for a moment on what intellectual obedience is not. Con- " forming one's judgment to the superior's judgment d~es not mean merely that upon receiving an apparently unwise command, the subject judges that in these concrete circumstances he (the subject) ' intellectually agrees that the superior is to be obeyed. A religious does not make the superior's judgment his own simply by ac-cepting the intellectual proposition that this command must be The Reverend Thomas Dubay is presently stationed at Notre Dame Seminary, 2901 S. Carrollton Avenue, New Orleans 18, Louisiana. 67 THOMAS DUBAY Review for Religious executed, for that is accepting a solid truth of ascetical theology, not a superior's judgment. Obedience of the understanding is more than an intellectual acceptance of the theory behind religious obedience. Secondly, obedience of judgment does not mean that a religious violates his intellectual honesty by "agreeing" with the superior no matter how patently wrong the latter may be -- and sometimes is. Nor does it mean that a subject must think as his superior thinks on any subject whatsoever. The superior has no infallible authority from God and no universal commission to teach, and so he has no right to expect his subjects to be of one mind with him on free questions unrelated to religious obedience. If intellectual obedience is none of these, what, then, is it? Although a religious can avoid an offense against the virtue or the vow of obedience by a mere execution of the matter commanded, yet perfection adds to execution a full surrender of both the will and the intellect. There are, consequently, three elements nec-essarily included in an act of lJerfect obedience: execution of the superior's directive, wanting to execute it because of the superior's authority, and thinking in its regard as the superior thinks insofar as such is possible. As regards this third element, we can hardly improve on St. Ignatius' explanation, an explanation ratified by the explicit authority of the Sovereign Pontiff: "He who aims at making an entire and perfect oblation of himself, besides his will, must offer his understanding, which is a distinct degree anal the highest degree of obedience. He should not only wish the same as the Superior, but think the same, submitting his own judgment to the Superior's, so far as a devout will can incline the understanding. For although this faculty has not the freedom which the will has, and naturally assents to what is presented to it as true, there are, however, many instances where the evidence of the known truth is not coercive, in which it can with the help of the will favor one side or the other. When this happens, every obedient man should bring his thought into conformity with the thought of the Superior" (Letter on Obedience, translated by William J. Young, S.J. [New York: America Press, 1953], p. 10). It is not our purpose here to develop the idea of intellectual obedience, but rather to analyze its possibility from the psycholog-ical point of view. Our aim, then, can be ~atisfied by two or three illustrations of the Ignatian teaching. Father X, a religious priest, is attached to a parish, and during Lent is charged by his superior to preach a series of sermons on the capital sins. Father X rightly 68 March, 1960 |NTELLECTUAL OBEDIENCE believes he knows the parish and its needs well, and he further thinks that those who come to Lenten devotions need a series of sermons on fraternal charity far more than one on the capital sins. Surely the difference of opinion between Father X and his superior is not~black and white either way. As is the case with most com-mands in religious life, the evidence is not coercive; the matter is at least debatable. If Father X has a "devout will" in the Ignatian sense, he will try insofar as he can to see and accept his superior's judgment about- the advisability of a series on the capital sins. Rather than adduce mental or vocal reasons against the superior's view (and that is his natural inclination), he summons up reasons that support' the superior's position, and he tries to solve his own objections. In other ~words, he makes a serious attempt to judge .the matter as his superior judges it. Sister Y is denied permission to invite to the pa['lor someone she thinks'she could aid spiritually by a word of encouragement or advice. Sister conforms her judgment to her superior's, not merely by agreeing to the proposition that she ought not to invite this person because she has been denied permission, but by trying to agree to the proposition that, all things considered, seeing this individual now is not wise in itself. Brother Z is refused permission to buy tools that he obviously needs to do his job competently. Brother knows clearly that the monastery is not h.ard-pressed financially; and he knows, too, that his present set of tools is simply not adequate. What must Brother's "devout will" do. in this situation? Rest in peace. He need not even try to conform his judgment to his superior's, because the case is clear (in our supposition, at least). Since it is patent that the superior is wrong, even the perfection of obedienc~ does not require Brother to believe that he is right. Nature of Intellectual Assent The difficulties involved in seeing the advisability and even the possibility of a submission of the judgment are prominent in the cases of Father X and Sister Y. Brother Z's situation offers no great problem. If the intellect is a necessary, determined, non-free faculty, how can it be moved to accept one view rather than another? If Father X's intellect is determined by the evidence at hand and if he can see his motives for assent but not his superior's, how can he honestly conform his judgment to his superior's? And the same is true of Sister Y. " 69 THOMAS DUBAY Review for Religious The intellect, the faculty that knows in an immaterial manner, the faculty whose proper object is the universal idea, is admittedly a non-free cognitive power. It can know only what is given it, for °the knowing intellect is what the scholastics call the possible intellect, and the possible intellect is determined by the impressed species. Though this terminology may be obscure to the non-philosopher,, the fundamental idea is quite simple. Just as the eye is passive and determined in the sense that it can see only what is given to it, so also on the more immaterial plane is the intellect passive and. determined because it can "see" only what is given to it to understand. While we readily grant the non-free character of the intellect's grasp of the idea (the simple apprehension of the philosopher, the knowing of what a thing is), we do not grant that all of his judg-ments are determined or non-free. By a judgment we mean, of course, the attribution of one idea to another or the denial of one idea of another. I attribute white to house in the judgment, "the house is white," or I deny right of James in the judgment, "James is not right.": Some of our judgments are necessary: "seven times four is twenty-eight," or "any being has a sufficient reason for its existence." These propositions are overpowering in their evidence; the intellect must accept them. It cannot do otherwise, for there is no theoretical or practical difficulty in the propositions that could distract the intellect's attention and so render the assent unnecessary. ~ "But--and this is important for religious obedience--most of our judgments are not necessary. Even more, many of our certain judgments are free even though perfectly certain and established by irreproachable evidence. Although the judgment, "God exists," is certain, and metaphysically certain at that, it is a free judgment, for it is not coercively obvious. A man can choose to be unreason-able, to look rather at difficulties practical and speculative, and thus choose to reject a truth that is amply demonstrated beyond any reasonable doubt. Because the intellect is not necessitated by the evidence in these many free certitudes, the will must enter into the picture and decide whether a~judgment is to be made, and, if so, what kind. The fact that the certitude of faith (another example of a free assent) is free is one reason that it is meritorious of eternal reward. And so the will has a decidedly large part to play in our intellectual life--far more than most of us would like to admit. If I am a Democrat (or a Republican), I am such not because 7O March, 1960 INTELLECTUAL OBEDIENCE of clear, cold reason alone. The positions taken by the two parties are by no means obviously right or wrong, at least when considered as two sys~ms. If I am a Democrat, there are intellectual reasons, of course. But there are also a host of factors that have influenced my will quite aside from my desire for efficient government: parental persuasions, educational exposures, attitudes of friends, personality traits of political figures, my home city and state, income bracket (if I had one!), social position, religion. If you wonder whether rural life is superior to urban, whether married women ought to work outside the home, whether your religious superior is right or wrong in a given case, you may be quite sure that your will is going to have an important role in your final yes or no to each question. The will exercises this role in two ways, indirectly and directly. The will indirectly influences our intellect in its act of judgment by determining whether and for how long the intellect is to consider the various pieces of evidence pro and con. If a man refuses to study the evidence for the divine origin of the Catholic Church, his final judgment, "She is not Christ's Church," has been very much determined by his will, even though he might flatter himself that he has been quite intellectual in building up his case against her. If a religious refuses to examine carefully the favorable motives for his superior's decision, his judgment that the superior has erred is shot through with the volitional element. ¯ The will plays a direct role in the formation of a judgment, not because it elicits the very act of judgment (this is a cognitive act and therefore an operation of the intellect), but because it im-perates or commands the intellect to pass judgment, to link one idea with another. This direct role is found in both certain and opinionative assents. Although we have thus far considered chiefly the certain assent, what we have said bears even more pointedly on the opinionative. If certitudes can be free, it is obvious that opinionative assertions.' must also be free. If certain motives often do not determine the intellect, surely probable ones do not. And so because the opinionative judgment is not one forced by the evidence, the will must enter into the matter directly and command the intellect either to assent, not to assent, or to suspend assent altogether. Application to Religious Obedience From all that we have said it appears, then, that a definitive disagreement with one's religious superior is not usually a purely 71 THOMAS DUBAY Review for Religious intellectual affair. The reader will note that we specify a definitive disagreement, that is, not a mere difficulty in seeing the superior's position, but rather a mental assent, certain or opinionative, that the superior has erred. If we may return to a previous example, our point may be clarified. If Father X makes a judgment that his superior is wrong in directing a Lenten series on the capital sins, Father X's will has probably entered into his~ decision both in-directly and directly. On the first score, Father X's judgment has been influenced indirectly by his will, if he declined to look for and consider reasons supporting his superior's view. If, in addition, he chose only to adduce mental evidence to prove his own view, he chose so to act by his will, not his intellect. On the second score, Father's judgment has been directly influenced by his will, since the evidence is not compelling for either opinion, and in order for him to make an opinionative or a certain assent either way the will must intervene. It now becomes apparent that obedience of the judgment involves both the intellect and the will though in different ways. It is the intellect that is here conformed to the superior's, but it is the will that sees to the conforming operation. However much he might like to think so, the religious is not subject merely to ob-jective evidence in his intellectual reaction to his superior's com-mands. His final assent or dissent is 'very much determined by his desire to assent or dissent, and that desire will be shown probably by both an indirect and a direct influence on the part of his will. We may next inquire into the reasons why the will enters so pronouncedly into a realm that seems no great affair of its own. ¯ Why does the will step into the intellect's own proper sphere and influence its own proper act, the judgment? The underlying answer to this question may be deduced from what we have already said about the indetermination of the intellect in any of its judgments that lack dompelling evidence. In these cases it is the will that must decide finally whether an intellectual assent is going to be made and, if so, what kind: affirmative or negative, certain or opinionative. Without this volitional push the intellect would operate only when the evidence for its assent is overwhelming and bereft of any difficulty, practical or speculative. While the in-tellect's frequent indetermination is the underlying reason for the will's entry into the act of judgment, we may still ask why the will chooses an affirmative assent rather than a negative one (or vice versa) or a certain rather than an opinionative one (or vice versa). 72 March, 1960 INTELLECTUAL OBEDIENCE Why, in other words, do we choose to hold what we do hold? Does our will always follow the objective state of the evidence? To answer this question is to answer also the problem of why we err when we do err. St. Thomas does not hesitate to place the root cause of error in the will, and he therefore finds at least a material sin (one without guilt) if not a formal sin (one with guilt) in our errors of judgment. "Error obviously has the character of sin," points out the Angelic. Doctor. "For it is not without pre-sumption that a person would pass judgment on things of which he is ignorant. Especially is this true in matters in which there is a danger of erring" (De rnalo, 3, 7). Why the sin? Because there is a deordination in the will's extending an assent beyond evidence, in judging without adequate information. We do not err because our senses and/or our intellects deceive us. l Being passive faculties they cannot register except what is given them, any more than a catcher's baseball glove can catch a golf ball if a baseball is thrown at it. If as I ride down the highway I see a peach tree and declare it to be a plum tree, I have erred not because my eyes deceived me (for they indicated precisely what is there), but because through an over-eager will my intellect was pushed to extend its assent, "Look at the plum tree," beyond the given data. An ordered judgment, one supportedby available evidence, would have been, "Look, I think that is a plum tree." In this judgment ~here is no error for it does appear to be a plum tree. In pinning down exactly why the will imperates unjustified assents epistemologists offer a wide variety of causes and occasions. These may be seen in any complete text on the validity of human knowledge. We will apply these same reasons and add some of our own to the subject's judging of a superior's command when the rightness or wrongness of it is not obvious. We may note that in the subject's disagreement with his superior there will often be an inordination of one kind or another. We qualify our statement by the word often because it can also happen with some frequency, and even in matters debatable, that a subject judges his superior wrong for objectively valid reasons. But even in this latter case perfect obedience will prompt the religious to seek to conform his thought to the superi0r's insofar as he can, and that by trying to see the superior's reasons rather than his own. What, then, are the inordinate causes for- a. subject's willed intellectual disagreement with his superior? ~Th~ senses can err, of course, when either they or the medium are defective. Of themselves, they are inerrant. 73 THOMAS DUSAY Review for Religious 1) ,Precipitate judgment due to levity or lack of maturity. Many people, ndt excepting religious, have a tendency to pass judgment on ideas or persons or events on the spur of the moment and without allowing themselves the leisure fo~ mature consideration. This undue haste could be willed insofar as an individual realizes his tendency to ill-considered conclusions and yet does not take adequate means to overcome it. A religious who is wont to have and express an immediate opinion regarding decisions of authority is probably beset with this defect. 2) Innate tendency to disagree. Closely allied with our first cause for a religious' intellectual disagreement with his superior is the odd perversity by which some men almost automatically choose the contradictory pqsition to an expressed proposition. This type of person, when a religious, will find himself sponta-neously thinking that the community should buy a Ford once the superior has decided upon a Chevrolet. 3) Desire to appear informed and/or as having a mind of one's own. To suspend judgment upon hearing a statement or to agree with it can in the first case appear to be due to ignorance of the situation or, in the second, to a lack of intellectual initiative and originality. Sister X may disagree with a ~uperior's directive re-garding classroom procedure primarily because she wants her community to realize that she, too, knows something about matters educational. Brother Y may be at odds with his superior about some extracurricular activity just to let it be known that he still has the use of a good set of reasoning apparatus. 4) An attachment to an idea or to a thing with which the superior' s directive is incompatable. Father X in our above example Gould have been willing his intellectual disagreement with his superior because of an unreasonable clinging to his own idea of what the people need most to hear about in a Lenten series. Although this clinging to an idea may be solidly motivated, it may also spring from an in-tellectual pride or from a self-centered attachment. If we refuse to examine honestly the evidence supporting the superior's view, we have cause for suspecting a self-centered attachment. 5) A preformed set of pseudo-principles. Not unrelated to simple prejudice is the phenomenon by which a religious builds his own cozy living of the religious life upon a set of principles hardly deducible from gospel asceticism. When his superior's directives clash with these "common sense" principles, the 'former are judged to be defective, not the latter. Fit forms of recreation, the amount of money available for a vacation, types and amount of work 74 March, 1960 INTELLECTUAL OBEDIENCE assigned are all illustrations of the kind of material in which intellectual judgment is likely to be mixed with an abundance of will. 6) Dislike for the consequences of the superior's judgment. Even when no principle is immediately apparent, a religious can disagree with his superior's judgment because he can see that it is going to conflict with his own plans and purposes. A teaching sister who wishes secretly to run a particular extracurricular activity can easily be tempted to find intellectual fault with a command whose execution will disqualify her for the job she seeks. If she succumbs to the temptation, her judgment is probably rife with will. 7) Dislike for the person of the superior. If my memory does not fail me, Ovid once observed that love is a credulous sort of thing. And we might add that hatred is incredulous. The same man will strain to put a favorable interpretation on a wild remark of a true friend, while he will unabashedly reject a moderate statement of an enemy. A religious who feels a natural antipathy towards his superior is by that very fact predisposed .to disagree with his judgments on non-intellectual grounds. Because women admittedly tend to judge with their hearts to a greater extent than men do, sisters who note this incllnation in themselves should observe carefully its bearing on intellectual obedience. These, then, are some of the volitional factors that can be present in the religious' failure to conform his judgment to that of his superior. Lest we be misunderstood, we repeat that a lack of conformity of judgment can also be due to solid intellectual reasons held by the subordinate; and in this case he is not at fault, provided he has honestly tried to see the superior's point of vie.w. But we do insist that many of our disagreements can be influenced, perhaps strongly,, by any one .or several of the factors we have outlined. When such be true, our disagreement may not be flattered by the pure name of intellectual. Some Difficulties Does not intellectual obedience smack of the unreal, the dis-honest? Is not a mature man or woman being asked too much in being urged to surrender not only the will but the very intellect itself? Is the religious to enjoy no personal independence at all? These questions almost answer themselves in the asking. Intel-lectual obedience is honest and realistic for the simple reason that it requires only that a subject look frankly at evidence favoring 75 THOMAS DUBAY the superior's viewpoint. Since he already knows his own opinion, the subordinate violates no honesty in trying to see and accept that of God's representative insofar as such is possible. Nor does this ask too much, for every faculty 0f man belongs to God, his intellect included, and they all, therefore, should be surrendered to Him. As regards independence, we must note that no man is independent of God. A religious obeys with his understanding, not because the superior is more intelligent than he,. but because he commands with God's authority. There is an immense difference between the two motives. Would not the faithful practice of intellectual obedience cripple a religious' later ability to rule? Hardly. This difficulty is based on the tacit premise that the subbrdinate's viewpoint on a debatable command is the more correct because it is the subordi-nate's, that he will learn how to rule by attending to his reasonings rather than those of the superior. The contrary seems more ~ikely. A subject already knows how he would judge in a given situation ¯ and why he is inclined to disagree with his superior. It stands to reason, then, that he will be broadened, not narrowed, if he honestly tries to see this same situation from another man's vantage point. I Would expect obedience of judgment to improve a subject's later ability to govern wisely rather than hinder it. After all, who of us. is so brilliant that he has nothing to learn from another? And finally, does not the conforming of one's ju.dgment to that of another tend to smother magnanimit~ and zeal, bigness of mind and aqcbmplishment? I think I might be pressed if I had to give a convincing theoretical answer to this objection, but I find that an adequate concrete answer could scarcely be easier. We need only look at the lives of the saints and then ask whether their perfect obedience of intellect and will smothered their zeal and a~c0mplish-ment. We need only recall, for example, that towering figure of magnanimity, St. Francis Xavier, corresponding with his superior on his knees. The objection melts away. Intellectual obedience, then, is not only psychologically possible; it is logical, helpful, desirable. Without it obedience of execution and will can hardly be perfect. The subject who is at intellectual odds with his superior's directives is likely to murmur, to cut corners, to be lacking in promptness and cheerfulness. With intellectual obedience he is completely subordinated to God. He enjoys peace because his holocaust is entire. 76 Temptation." A÷R--S John Carroll Futrell, S.J. EVEN THE GREAT St. Paul complained that he found himself doing the evil he did not wish to do. Religious men and women, professionally dedicated to the pursuit of perfection, under-stand from their own humiliating experience what the Apostle was talking about. It is one thing to possess and pursue ideals of perfect virtue and high sanctity and quite another to realize them in the heat and rush of daily life. All of us suffer from plaintive moments when we see the embarrassing divide between what we are and what we are supposed to be. "What a rain of ashes falls on him / Who sees the new and cannot leave the old." More often than not it is only in profound moral crises that we find out what values truly shape our character. Men in general tend to live their lives without finding out who or what they really are. Most of the time we can successfully fool ourselves into believing that we are in our souls what we appear in our religious garb. Whether this be due to superb play-acting or to some inner veil we draw across the mirror that would show us ourselves, at least this much is clear: we fight like Tartars against the knowledge of what we really are, barring no holds and respecting no rules. It takes a crisis to reveal us to ourselves, and even then we can sometimes throw off uncomfortable truths by a kind of mental judo. The source of our troubles and the root of our self-deceit, we know, is the old Adam within us all. Man is split; his heart is divided. If, as the Psalmist and the poets have said, he is noble and splendid and but a little less than the angels, if he is of almost .infinite faculty in his mind and in apprehension like a god; still, he is also a mean-spirited reed and his own demon. He is capable of heroic grandeur shining out against the dark magnificence of things; but in the main he is rather ignoble, mean in his pleasures, slavish in his conformity to unworthy standards. We religious share this fallen nature (how well we know it!) and this divided heart. We run the constant risk that we shall live out our lives without really seeing our true face or speaking out our authentic name, who we are, why we are here. When the time comes to us, perhaps only at Judgment, when we will be forced at last to utter The Reverend John Carroll Futrell is presently stationed at the Institut Saint-Bellarmin, W~pion, Belgium. 77 JOHN CARROLL FUTRELL Review fo~ Religious the speech which haslain hidden at the center of our souls for years, we will be abashed and not a little astounded. It will be too late to deceive ourselves. If we have failed to realize our religious ideals, the reason is that we have in one way or another succumbed to temptation. Modern psychoanalysis has taught us that the best way to uncover the authentic self is to dig back under the layer of our surface personality and lay bare the subsoil from which it has emerged. Ultimately, one can do this only for himself. It is helpful, however, to consider how temptation works in general in order to be equipped to analyze its victories in ourselves. The purpose here is to consider how temptation works and why it overcomes us. In his brilliant discussion of the roots of sin St. Thomas Aquinas explains the division man discovers within himself. The philosophers have a dictum that action follows upon knowledge. How, then, can a man do the evil he does not wish to do, follow what is base, when he could write a perfectly accurate analysis of the ideal? How can he act against his own knowledge? St. Thomas gives the answer (Summa Theologiae, 1-2, 77, 2~. We have two kinds of knowledge: a general recognition of moral principles which is habitually possessed by our minds-- for instance, we know that all forms of sensuality are to be avoided- and a practical knowledge in the here and now situation that faces us which governs what we actually do-- we do not recognize that this sensual action here and now ought to be avoided. The process is obvious: we fail to consider here and now what we habitually recognize as true. What is the cause of this crucial failure to call upon our habitual knowledge when we most need it? Why is man divided? According to St. Thomas there are several possible explana-tions of this lack of consideration of moral principles. In a malici-ous man it may simply be the result of an evil intention; he does not want to pay attention to the demands of morality. More often, the source of the trouble is less direct. Some impediment gets in the way and blocks out the habitual knowledge which should step in to save us. This impediment might .be so simple a thing as a very demanding external occupation. We are so busy doing that we have no time for thinking. Or it might be the result of physical weakness. The mind is very much tied to the body. But for most of us most of the time the biggest impediment to moral .considera-tion is the force of our feelings. We are carried away from our ideals by the drive of self-propelled desire. The most insidious wile 78 March, 1960 TEMPTATION; A ~- R = S of feeling is to distract us from our habitual knowledge of what is meet and just by compelling our attention to its own attractive object. Or it may simply set itself openly against the ideal, inclining us away from it and toward the flowers of evil. Fina.lly, (St. Thomas is always thorough) feeling can actually bring about a bodily change in a person, pressing him on so violently that reason is chained and actions are no longer free. Passion can make a man insane. What we face in temptation, therefore, is a here and now compulsion to yield to an evil desire, a craving so intense that it tends to drive from consciousness our habitual intellectual knowledge of right and wrong, our higher ideals and hopes. Man is divided; and if temptation overcomes him he finds himself doing the evil he does not wish.to do. How exactly does this sway of feeling manage to upset moral consideration? What is the psychology of temptation? Perhaps we can express it as a formula: A÷R =S. A stands for appetite. Our problems begin when something catches our attention which shows itself to be highly desirable. It is not good for me, but I want it. Hold out a piece of candy to a little child, then draw it away, and the process will be clear. What feeds appetite? It is a complicated process. The initial cause may be memory of some pleasure experienced in the past, or imagination of some hitherto unknown desirable object. Or it may be that our senses are sur-prised by some unexpected stimulation. What I see or hear makes me want to gain possession. In any case, a circuit has been estab-lished. Like an electric current, desire runs back and forth from imagination to the senses, one strengthening the yearning of the other. What I want in imagination, I decide to look for or reach for, and sense action results. But the action of the senses causes imagination to paint in ever more glowing colors the object I desire, and this results in more definite sense activity. All the while feeling is being fed and is growing stronger. But it runs the risk of being crushed. Reason hastens to the rescue. R stands for rationalization. In a religious, especially, ideals, convictions, habits stand in the way of surrender to appetite. If feeling is to have its way, it must seduce reason into approving the here and now choice of an action which is completely at variance with the religious's habitual knowledge of right and wrong. This requires some ingenuity, playing off against one another various considerations of what ought to. be in general, and what ougl~t to be under these circumstances; when one should strive to be a 79 JOHN CARROLL FUTRELL Review ~or Religious saint, and when one should give a little to weak human nature; what is splendid as a hazy ideal, and what is practical at the present moment. Appetite slowly takes control of reason~ leads it away from consideration of good and evil, brings it around to the judgment that what appetite wants it should have. This step of rationalization is essential to the victory of temptation. It cannot win without it. Man will not act while he is divided; he comes to realize the division only after he has done the evil he did not wish to do. Two forces are at work in the rationalization process which favor the success of temptation. Obviously, the first is self-deceit. We manage to fool ourselves into thinking temporarily that we can be both good religious and self-indulgent at the same time. The more we give was to the onrush of appetite, the easier it becomes, to fabricate logical reasons for satisfying it. Our mood becomes one of great kindliness towards ourselves, paternal under-standing of our weaknesses, and gracious indulgence towards our felt needs. Finally, we convince ourselves that for the moment surrender is the better part of valor. The second force which bolsters up the campaign of ap-petite during rationalization is procrastination. When we manage to retain a toe-hold on reality and have a sneaking suspicion that we cannot sincerely strive to be perfect and holy religious while giving way to self, feeling strikes directly at this resistance. It allows us to admit that what we desire is honestly not the greater good, is truly not consistent withototal consecration to God. Yet, here and now it is needed. No one becomes holy in a day. Even though we surrender to appetite on this occasion, well, we will be striving for perfection all our lives. The particular kind of mortification involved in resisting this temptation can come at a later date. Put it off for the time being. Reason has. the satisfaction of feeling self-righteously honest at the same time that it approves the drive of appetite. Temptation wins again. A variation on the usual campaign of procrastination may be termed the datur tertium feint. If reason p~rsists in protesting that the object of appetite just cannot be squared with religious dedication, then the object is shifted somewhat to make it appear more acceptable. This type of rationalization is most effective when the temptation is not to do something difficult .which the pursuit of perfection clearly demands. Appetite is revolted be-. cause the prospect is painful. Therefore, some less unpleasant act of virtue is proposed. One need not experience the shame of out-right refusal to a call to greater holiness, but neither need he be 8O March, 1960 TEMPTATION: A ÷ R = S quite so extravagant as seems indicated by the movements of grace. Datur tertium -- something else can be done which will serve as a sop to conscience and yet not unduly inconvenience the precious self. Later on, perhaps, it will be possible to ascend to the heights along the highroad of the saints --but not quite yet. Once again, .temptation has its way. S stands for surrender. The circuit is now completed. Appetite, fed by imagination and sense activity, entered into the mind and met all the counterattacks of reason. Having rationalized suc-cessfully, the tempted religious is now able to make the judgment that what is wanted here and now is good, or at least allowable, even though it runs counter to his habitual knowledge of what is right and wrong for one who is pursuing perfection. The choice is made. Temptation has won the battle and in its victory is transformed into sin, or at least into religious failure: A÷R=S. This, it would seem, is a fairly accurate description of the general psychology of temptation. How this general campaign is waged in each individual soul only the individual can say. But given that. this is the way temptation works, what would be the best general strategy of defense against it? The best beginning in a defensive war is to recognize the tactics of the enemy. These we have expressed in a formula -- A +R = S. Now,.a clever general tries to counter the very first hostile move. We must above all, therefore, attempt to overcome appetite before it can advance to the stage of rationalization. Here, one must cultivate awareness of the movements of imagination and the susceptibility of the senses. Since memory and imagination incite sense activity and sense activity feeds imagination, one must be ready at any time to shift his attention from the object, which incites appetite. If the feeling of desire has entered through the imagination, catch the feeling and overcome it before sense action results. If surprised by the senses into awareness of the desirable object, quickly occupy the senses with something else. In either case, the trick is to focus the attention away from what is tempting, and to do it immediately. The very practical and psychologically valid principles underlying the exercise of interior mortification and rules of religious decorum are immediately evident. These are simply helps to cope with our divided hearts. They are the guard over our outer gates. Further, one sees the wisdom of the practice of recollection and the habit of frequent interior aspirations. These. are positive ways of keeping our attentionwhere it belongs-~on God; and they provide a quick and easy way of shifting our atten- JOHN CARROLL FUTRELL tion away from temptation when it surprises us. The practice of corporal mortification, .too, is seen for the healthy thing it is: a means of training our senses to embrace what is painful when the call of grace summons us to higher holiness. Our conscious life is a vital rhythm which the soul itself cannot regulate. It needs power-ful allies on the level ,of sense and imagination. Rationalization is harder to cope with because it means that the enemy is already within the gates. Temptation has advanced beyond the stage of mere appetite. However, some defenses are still available. One can consciously cultivate the disposition for c.omplete honesty with one's self and with God. Then, when rationalization begins, it will be difficult not to recognize self-deceit. No one can give himself heart and soul to one thing while in the back of his mind he cherishes a yearning, a secret hope, for some-thing very different. If we are constantly striving to realize total consecration to God, temptation will conquer us less and less often. The cultivation of this desire demands unswerving fidelity to the practice of spiritual exercises, expecially examination of conscience and contemplation of the meaning of God. Adam failed in con-templation, and ever since the heart of man has been divided. A very practical means to expose temptation for what it really is is suggested by Eric Gill in his Autobiography. When the appetite draws us toward something which seems desirable and promises joy, he advises us to reflect on the true nature of enjoyment. "The only real enjoyment of life is in the memory. However enjoyable this or that activity may have been or have seemed to be at the time of action -- the ecstasy of sensation, the ecstasy of touch and taste and smell, of sight and sound-- unless the memory of it be good' we must, for our own peace, eschew such action" (New York: Devin-Adair, 1942, pp. 221-22). Finally, when we have done the evil we did not wish to do, when temptation has .conquered and we have surrendered, we must hold on with all our faculties to our faith in the mercy and for-giveness of God and our trust in Him at last to deliver us from the body of this death and to lead us home. If fall we must along the way, we know that if we have confidence in Him, He will bring us to victory and holiness in His own good time. Juliana of Norwich expressed it perfectly: "He said not Thou shalt not be tempested, Thou shalt not be travailed, Thou shalt not be distressed; but He said Thou shalt not.be overcome." 82 Charity the Unifying Principle of Religious Life Sister Consuela Marie, $.B.$. SOMETIMES in religious life the minutiae of observance, the multiplicity of regulations and injunctions, the unremitting insistence on the perfec~ observance of the rule may cause us to lose sight of the fundamental obligation of all spiritual living-- the observance of the first and greatest commandment: the love of God and its included second, the love of self and neighbor. Charity in its *unadulterated essence is the root obligation of all moral law; it is of the essence of the morality of religious observance. In this atomic age, religious find themselves caught in the activity whirls of modern living. All the gadgets and electronic time-savers available today somehow do not bring them extra time ¯ or leisure. Whether the religious exercises his activity in a class-room, a hospital, or the homes of the poor, he goes intensely from one activity to another only to find that all he hoped to do in a single day cannot be fitted into the twenty-four hours that bound it. Fortunately for him, there is a definite pattern of prayer around which he builds each day and a definite horarium for'the specific duties of the day that would seem to make for one calm, peaceful whole. But in this statistical age of records and super records, of state requirements and association reports, of development pro: grams, of theatrical productions and .seminars, he finds himself swamped at times as he tries to keep his head above a tide that carries him along whether he will or not. Stress is in the very air we breathe in America today. While the nation works feverishly for bigger and better missiles, we look for more and more mechanical teaching aids, larger and better equipped buildings, new modern motherhouses and participated TV pro-grams. And all of this is good. The far-seeing religious, heeding the many suggestions of His Holiness, Pope Pius XII, realizes that all modern developments, if properly used, are effective instruments for promoting the glory of God. He would be foolish to pass them by and keep to a horse while the rest of the world whirls by in convertibles. Sister Consuela Marie teaches theology and history at Xavier University, New Orleans 25, Louisiana. 83 SISTER CONSUELA MARIE Review for Religious But not for these did the young person enter religious life. Fundamentally, he entered religious life to find God, to live with Him, to carve out, with His grace, a way of life that would bring him into close contact with this God of love for whom his whole being cries out. How often the very force of circumstance will compel him to realize that God is not in the whirlwind; He is not ordinarily found in the blare of feverish activity. There must come to him those moments when he feels there is a roadblock between his activity and his God; .and he dreams of the green fields of the enclosed contemplative and feels himself in an outside barren waste where God seems to have crossed the horizon and left him watching the sun go down not on the glory of Galway Bay, but on ¯ the dried-up barrenness of an overworked field. At this point, however, help is nearer than he knows. He has only to cry out to God to experience new floods of grace poured out on him. Divine selection and abundant grace have set the religious apart for a special kind of efficiency in a special way of living. No human mind devised the religious state. Infinite Wisdom ordained and designed it. The Holy Spirit, breathing forever where He wills, inspired the minds of saints to organize its multiform varieties in the world today. No human need has been overlooked in the long list of religious institutes or the long category of their functions. Primarily, the religious state, whether active or contemplative, is a state of perfection in which one is surrounded by means of at-raining perfection by the observance, in addition to the command-ments, of the religious counsels. Because it implies a special way of approach to God, a special way of directing one's actions to one's last end, which is the eternal possession of God, "it implies a whole ensemble of moral obligations of unequal importance.''1 There is the fundamental obligation to strive for perfection; and this is the soul's direct answer to the challenge: "If thou wilt be perfect . " There is the essential obligation of the vows and their ramifications in the particular institute; there are the secondary obligations of the specific apostolate. Finally, there is the obligation of each professed "of impregnating his soul and his life with the particular spirit of his institute and assimilating its characterigtic virtues.''~ Each of these obligations is assumed under the protecting arms of Holy Mother the Church. It is the Church which puts the seal of approval on the specific rules of the various orders and gives its as- ~L. Colin, C.SS.R., Striving for Perfection (Westminster: Newman, 1956), p. ix. ~Ibid., p. x. 84 March, 1960 CHARITY THE UNIFYING PRINCIPLE surance that sanctity can be attained by the observance of these rules. The apostolates of the institutes become by this approval the apostolates of the Church itself. Underneath the multiplicity of orders and congregations, there is the unity of all religious living in the complete consecration of individual lives to the pursuit of perfection. In the spiritual order is thus achieved that unity in multiplicity so characteristic of all being, so particularly characteristic of the Church to which Christ gave the mark of unity. What striking illustrations of this unity of the Mystical Body of Christ, the Church: membership for every race, every clime, every age; sanctity on every level, married saints, doctor saints, children saints, royal saints, peasant saints, laborer saints, active apostolic saints, silent suffering saints. In his lucid expression, St. Thomas states it thus: "Even in the order, of natural things, perfection, which in God is simple, is not found in the created universe except in multiform and manifold manner; so too, the fullness .of grace, which is centered in Christ as Head, flows forth to His members in various ways for the perfecting of the body of the Church. This is the meaning of the Apostle's words: 'He gave some as apostles and some as prophets, and other some as evan-gelists, and other some as pastors and doctors for the perfecting of the saints.' "~ As in the Church, so too in each single order or congregation there is a leit motif, an underlying unity that binds all duties, all moral obligations in one. How necessary it is that one establish the rock bottom foundation principle of unity for the multiplicity of obligations in religious life: the vows that bind for life, the virtues to be acquired, the particular duties assigned, the diverse activities to be assumed. One element, one principle binds them all together. That element, that unifying force is charity. Once that is clearly grasped, accepted, and allowed to function unhampered, the inner well of peace is safely dug, the heart finds the refreshing inner spring; the storms, the hurricanes crash and lash; but they beat without impress; and the soul walks and talks with God in the quiet of the evening in a garden enclosed. And this is not mere poetry. It is basic theology. It was clearly taught with unerring simplicity by the eternal Word who, in answer to the Pharisee's question as to what was the greatest command-ment, answered: "Thoushalt love the Lord thy God with thy whole heart, and with thy whole soul, and with thy whole mind. This is the greatest and first commandment. And the second is like ~Summa Theologiae, 2-2, 183, 2; Eph 4:11. 85 SISTER CONSUELA MARIE Review for Religious it. Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself" (Mt 22: 37-39). Scripture repeats that declaration, again and again. Nothing sur-passes St. Paul's description of charity. The nature, import, vitality of charity have never been so deftly defined and so superbly summarized as in his classic encomium. The Corinthians were evidently interested in the startling and visible charisms granted freely to the new-born Church. But St. Paul urges them to strive for the greater gifts and points out to them a "yet more excellent way." All the charisms, tongues of men and angels, gifts of proph-ecy, knowledge of all mysteries, and strength to move all mountains ¯ . all are as nothing without charity. Three groups of dominant ideas in St. Paul's treatment of charity are pointed out by Father Fernand Prat.4 St. Paul, he tells us, establishes it first as the queen of virtues since all other gifts are as nothing unless they are ruled by charity. Secondly, he makes it the summary of the commandments: "Love is the fulfilling of the law" (Rom 14:10). Finally, he establishes it as the bond of perfec-tion. Fifteen different virtues are listed by St. Paul as the compan-ions of charity in his exhortation to the Corinthians (1 Cor 13). In his Epistle to the Colossians, he urges the practice of mercy, humility, kindness, meekness, patience (Col 3: 12-13), all of which are included in the list of companions of charity. But whereas in the first listing St. Paul breaks charity up into its component. virtues, in this second listing he holds them securely together by, making charity their bond. "But above all these things have charity which is the bond of perfection" (Col 3:14). At the outset of religious life, when the young person is being orientated into a new type of living, when new obligations and moral responsibilities are being explained, might it not be well to posit a course (new or review as the previous education of the aspirant would determine) on the theological virtues with strong emphasis on charity? With this theological knowledge, the balance of other moral obligations can be definitely determined. At the beginning the .air is cleared, the moral emphasis properly placed and perfectly poised. With St. Thomas for his teacher, the. young religious will know that "primarily and essentially the perfection of the Christian life consists in charity, principally as to the love of God, secondarily as to the love of our neighbor, both of which are the matter of the chief commandments of the Divine Law.''~ In discussing the question whether perfection consists in the observ- ~The Theology of St. Paul (Westminster: Newman, 1927), 2, 333. ~Sumrna Theologiae, 2-2, 184, 3. 86 March, 1960 CHARITY THE UNIFYING PRINCIPLE ance of the commandments or of the counsels,-St. Thomas makes very clear this distinction between primary, essential perfection and secondary, accidental perfection. After stating the primacy of charity, he goes on to explain: "Secondarily and instrumentally, perfection consists in the observance of the counsels, all of which like the commandments are directed to charity; yet not in the same way."" The commandments, he explains, direct us in clearing away those things opposed to charity; while the counsels direct us to remove things not contrary to charity themselves, but which could hinder it. He quotes the Abbot Moses: "Fastings, watches, med-itating on the Scriptures, penury and loss of all one's wealth, these are not perfection, but means to perfection, since not in them does the school of perfection find its end, but through them it achieves its end." Here we have obligations in their proper focus; we have the obligations of religious life in their exact and proper proportion. The obligation of charity-is primary and without measure or limit. Its boundaries are all the energy of heart, mind, and will. Faith and hope, it is true, as theological virtues, have God° as their end. But in faith, it is the knowledge of God on the authority of His revela-tion; in hope, it is confidence in God to be possessed in future beatitude. In charity however, the end is the immediate possession of God here and now, the possession of infinite Love whereby God infuses His love into the soul, and the soul loves God with I-Iis own love. "It amounts to this, that endowed with the actual love with which the Father loves the Son, and the Son loves the Church ('I am in the Father and you in "me, and I in you . He that loveth me shall be loved of my Father, and I will love him') we find within ourselves the strength to keep the commandments, to live the life of faith, and -- most blessed of all -- to love back.''7 Charity, we must remember, is infused; we cannot create it; we cannot increase or decrease it though we can posit the actions, we can set the conditions under which, or on a~ccount of which, God will pour deeper infusions. On the other hand, we can, by our neglect of grace, dry up the streams and eventually, by our own free act, lose this infused gift by mortal sin. Charity and grace go hand in hand. They grow together; they increase together. When we lose one, we lose the other. They are distinct but inseparable. Since on the authority of God, the testimony of Scripture and 6Ibid. 7Dom Hubert VanZeller, The Inner Search (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1956), p. 165. 87 SISTER CONSUELA MARIE Review for Religious the writings of the Fathers and the explanations of the Summa, charity is the first moral obligation of all Christian living, a clear concept of its theological implications serves not only as rock base for the spiritual structure; but, far and beyond the foundation, it provides the beginning and the end, the end and the means, the joy and the crown, the reduction to simplicity and unity of the many facets of religious observance and obligations. Once this foundation virtue of charity takes its proper place, all other virtues take their form from it; all other virtues are only so many ways of loving God. No one of them has any meritorious value before God unless.it is informed by charity. What a delight religious life should be if this is our first duty, this the prime obligation of our whole existence -- to love God and our neighbor as ourselves in Him. And all this because God has.first loved us. Before the uni-verse was created, God is love. He created the universe and man in an act of love. When man turned aside from His love in sin, God the Father decreed the redemption by His only-begotten Son; and the Holy Ghost, in an act of love, overshadowed the im-maculate Virgin and with her consent effected the Incarnation. "The free deliberate self-oblation of Jesus on earth is the realization in time of the eternal decree of redemption in Heaven which springs from the inmost sources of Love." 8 We were created in love; we are destined to be entirely pos-sessed by love. We have only to clear the way, to remove the obstacles, to take down the barriers of pride and self love to let the waters of the boundless oceans of love inundate our whole lives. Once the barriers are down and love's passage through us is free, all other virtues follow. Because we love, we find the practice of the other virtues an almost impelling necessity. "I have found my vocation," once exclaimed the Little Flower; "in the Church, I will be love!" Each religious should make the same discovery; and the sooner, the better. To each one is the quotation from Jeremias applicable: "I have loved thee with an everlasting love!" (31:3). What peace, quiet, refreshment in that thought. Ever-lastingly He has loved me; He has brought me into existence primarily to fill me with love, for His glory! Intellectually we should understand the nature of this charity and how it should function in our lives. We cannot build castles in the air or dream of the darts of love or the raging fires we see sur-rounding the pictures of the saints. We must seek the essence, SKarl Adam, Christ the Son of God (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1934), p. 266. 88 March, 1960 CHARITY THE UNIFYING PRINCIPLE not the extraordinary manifestations of it. There are three divisions in this precept of charity: the love of God~ the love of self, the love of neighbor. The human mind staggers when it attempts to analyze the love of God in itself. On God's side, charity is active and creative. According to Sty. Thomas, "It infuses and creates the goodness which is present in things."'~ We love something because we find in it qualities or characteristics that appeal to us. God loves His own reflection in objects pleasing to Him. God is love, so that in Him love is a bottomless spring diffusing itself endlessly to the works of His creation, making them beautiful because of His love poured freely into them. "Our God is a consuming fire" (Heb 12:29). The flames of that fire are eternal and boundless. They transform to white heat whatever they touch. The inner life of the Blessed Trinity is one of complete giving, coraplete giving in love in the eternal generation of the Son by the Father, and the eternal spiration of the Holy Ghost by the mutual love of the Father and the Son. The Incarnation of the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity is the most stupendous demonstration of God's love for man. The Redemption, the establishment of the Church, the order of grace and the sacraments, are all gifts demonstrating a love on God's part so perfect, we can never begin to comprehend it. On our part, charity is a supernaturally infused habit of our souls, a virtue by which we love God as the sovereign good above all else and our neighbor as ourselves in His love. This love for God which is our prime duty must have definite characteristics. It must be a love that is summus, that is, a love of God above all else. This characteristic which ~he theologians label summus has two di-visions: appretiative and intensive. Amor appretiative summus loves God as the sovereign good. "It is a postulate of charity that we must love God as the.infinitely lovable Being above all else, that is more than any other person.''~" Amor intensive summus adds the additional note of loving God ardently. "It is the highest kind of emotional love of which a man is capable.''~ This ardor, however, is not essential. ~t is a gift of God not given to all. True, there have been saints who have experienced sensible darts of love or ardent affections; but there have been many, too, who experienced years of dryness and dereliction. Yet these also loved God with an amor appretiative summus. ~Summa Theologiae, 1, 20, 3. ~°Koch-Preuss, Handbook o[ Moral Theology (St. Louis: Herder, 1928), 4, 78. ~Ibid., p. 79. 89 SISTER CONSUELA MARIE Review for Religious The second characteristic of the love we should bear God is that it be effective. That means it must show itself in good works. Love that merely exclaims, "My God, I love you!" but does not show itself in good works, is ineffective love. Mere affective love is transitory and incomplete unless it ends in effective love. If we really love God, we give proof of the love by the practice of the virtues and. by positive effort to extend the Kingdom of God on earth. The love of. God is the first and greatest commandment, and the second is the love of neighbor as self. Not often is a religious instructed in the love of self, though since God established love of self as the measure of the love of neighbor, there is a perfectly proper love of self. Pope Pius XII has made this very clear. "There exists," he said in his address to psychotherapists (April 13, 1953), "in fact a defense, an esteem, a love, and a service of one's personal self which is not only justified but demanded by psychology and morality. Nature makes this plain, and it is also a lesson of the Christian faith. Our Lord taught 'Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself.' Christ then, proposes as the rule of love of neighbor, charity towards oneself,, not the contrary." This love of self includes the proper love of our spiritual wel-fare before which we can put nothing else, and also in certain circumstances, a concern for our necessary physical welfare. St. Thomas says this explicitly: "When we are commanded to love our neighbor as ourselves, the love of self is set before the love of neighbor.""-' He hastens to add that we should love our neighbor more than our body. A proper uriderstanding of the nature of this love of self is essential. Before all else, we must love our soul's salvation. Before that we can put nothing. We can, however, and should put our neighbor's spiritual welfare before our physical convenience. It is worth noting, too, that God expects a reasonable care and concern for the physical nature He has given us. It has been said that some nuns push themselves too far. That can happen to a religious as well as to a hard-pressed mother or father. But here, a charity for oneself, for the physical health given by God, could help. All religious are well instructed on the third phase of the commandment of charity -- the love of neighbor. Love for others in religious life flowers into the manifold apostolates of the Church at home and abroad. So many dedicated apostles in so many dedicated apostolates, all loving God for Himself, and their neigh-r~ Surnma Theologiae, 2-2, 44, 8, ad 2. 9O March, 1960 CHARITY THE UNIFYING PRINCIPLE bors in. His love, ready to give them all they have, loving them truly as they love themselves! Now and then, however, it is well to recall that the first claimants to this charity toward the neighbor are the members of our respective communities. St. Thomas says so pointedly, "We ought to love most those of our neighbors who are more virtuous or more closely united with us.''1'~ We should wish them well, do good to them before outsiders. Helping them is part of our first moral obligation. Understanding the primacy of place, the primacy of obl.igation, and the formative influence of charity on all other virtues, the in-tellectual concept is clear. Intellectual concepts will help but they will not produce charity. God infuses it. Progress in charity is the lifelong concern of the religious. He is in the way of perfection. Can he attain to perfect charity? Discussing whether one can be perfect in this life,14 St. Thomas explains that absolute perfection is possible only to God, and that absolute totality on the part of the lover so that his affective faculty always tends to God as much as it possibly can, is not possible to human nature this side of heaven. But, he adds, there is a third perfection on the part of the lover with regard ¯ to the removal of obstacles to the movement of love towards God. This perfection, he assures us, can be had in this life in two ways: first, by removing from man's affection all that is contrary to charity, such as mortal sin (this degree is essential for salvation); secondly, by removing from man's affections not only what is contrary to charity but also what hinders the mind's affection from tending wholly to God. In this second area, there are ever-widening possibilities. In avoiding mortal sin, and as far as human frailty will permit, venial sin, there is an ever-deepening union of mind and soul with God. Affective love becomes effective in works of super-erogation assumed for the sake of love. At this point, all the theo-logical virtues, the cardinal virtues and their subsidiary virtues, are so many streams through which the current of charity flows far and wide. The stronger the charity, the stronger these other virtues which receive their merit from charity. This perfection is possible here and now --: that all that is done, is done for love of God at least through a virtual intention even though an actual intention does not precede every ac.t. The aim at this love should be direct and constant. The most important act a religious makes is an act of charity, and it is in his power to renew it actually and briefly countless ~3Ibid. l~Summa Theologiae, 2-2, 184, 2. 91 SISTER CONSUELA MARIE times during the day. Fulfilling all the obligations of his state for the pure love of God, he can still renew frequent acts of charity. "With frequently renewed acts of charity, the soul is capable of doing as much as it can in this life to make the meritorious influence of charity constant and complete.''~'~ Charity is the precious ointment, the sheer essence of all religious living, of all spiritual striving. It is the most precious element in the Church. St. John of the Cross states its position with startling simplicity: "More precious in the sight of God and the soul is a small portion of this pure love, more profitable to the Church, even though it seems to be accomplishing nothing, than are all other good works combined.''~'~ When life is over, faith will end, for we will see; hope will vanish, for the goal will be reached. Charity alone will endure. Before it is our eternal joy, it will be our judgment. St. John of the Cross tells us that in the evening "of life, we will be judged by love. How important that the morning, the high noon, and the late afternoon of life be directed to the perfection of charity! ~SDominic Hughes, "The Dynamics of Christian Perfection," The Thomist, 15 (1952), 268. ~The Works of St. John of the Cross (Westminster: Newman, 1949), 2, 346. 92 Neuroticism and Perfection Richard P. Vaughan, S.J. THE FIRST OBLIGATION of every religious is to seek perfec-tion.~ Generally speaking, the success of a religious as a religious will be measured by the extent to which he or she actually achieves this goal. Since perfec.tion and sanctit~ are synofiomous, every religious is also called to sanctity. This demand presents a special problem for the seriously neurotic religious, since the very nature of his disorder seems to militate against his achieving any degree of perfection or sanctity, and sometimes it even seems to eliminate the possibility of his striving to achieve a relative state of perfection. The question, therefore, arises: Can the neurotic religioug ever hope to attain perfection or sanctity? Or are the debilitating symptoms of almost all seriously neurotic conditi'~ns such as to exclude the possibility of sanctity? Obligation and Nature of Perfection St. Thbmas describes the type of l~erfection whibh is the primary obligation of all religious as "charity, first and foremost in the love of God, and then in the love of'neighb0r.'"-' The 'religiqus is especially called to love God with his whole heart and his neighbor as himself.:' Although few, if any, actually achieve this $odl, many have succeeded to an extraordinary degree. They have devoted the greater part of their lives to loving.God and neighbor. As a resul~, they now live among the saints of heaven. If one stops to analyze the lives of these eminently successful people, it becomes evident that this charity of which Scripture and the theologians speak presupposes many other virtues and counsels. First of all, one cannot fully love .God and his neighbor when the majo~ actions of his life are motivated by self-love. The person who is absorbed in himself finds it extremely difficult to turn his will outward toward God and neighbor. Even those who have achieved a relative state of sanctity on this earth, quickly dis- The Reverend Richard P. Vaugl~an teaches at the University of San Francisco, San Francisco 17, California. 'Code of Canon Law, canon 593. "-'~urnma Theologiae, 2-2, 184, 3. ¯ :~Adolphe Tanquerey, The Spiritual Life (Tournai: Descl6e, 1930), pp. 183-84. 93 RICHARD P. VAUGHAN Review for Religious covered that they must wage a constant battle against self, lest they find Selfish motives tainting that charity which perfection demands. Moreover, the enticements of pleasure turn the religious away from divine love. The man or woman who lives for the pleasures of the world cannot live for God. It is only by curbing the desire for. pleasure through the medium of numerous virtues that a religious will be able to center his full attention upon God. Fu.rther helps are the vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience. These three vows, shut out worldly interests which distract from the full development of charity. Hence, included in the notion of charity, which is the source of all perfection, is self-sacrifice, the practice of virtues, and fidelity to the three vows. Knowledge of God and Neurosis A thing must be seen as good before it can be loved. The more apparent the goodness, the greater is the possibility of a deep love. Thus, before we can love a person, we must know him. These are philosophical principles which affect our dealings with God as well as with others. In the natural order, all of us have probably ex-perienced at one time or another an initial dislike for a person, only to have this dislike after a number of months or years turn to a positive like or even to love. If we stop to analyze what has hap-pened, it becomes apparent that a new and deeper knowledge of the person makes us see him in an entirely different light. We begin to see him as he actually is and not as we have imagined him to be. When all his good qualities become apparent, we cannot help but" like him. The neurotic frequently ftnds himself in a similar situation in his relationship v~ith God. Due to his disorder and early experiences, he may harbor some v.ery hostile and angry feelings toward God. He is apt to think that God has unjustly persecuted him. He is apt to be resentful. Since all such thoughts and emotions provoke a great amount of guilt, many neurotics repress them. Unfortunately, repressed matter seldom stays fully repressed, but manifests itself in many subtle ways. For example, .a religious who is unconsciously very angry with God might ex-perience almost a compulsion to commit some type of a serious sin, and still never realize that one of the reasons for his actions is a .desire to get even with God. Once the neurotic religious through the medium of psychotherapy begins to realize why he feels as he does toward God, then he can begin to know God as others know Him. 94 March, 1960 NEUROTICISM AND PERFECTION None of us knows God directly. Our knowledge comes from experience. Some of this knowledge is the result of a long reasoning process. However, our initial knowledge of what God is like most probably springs from the attitudes and example of our parents. It is the mother or father who plants the germ of knowledge in the mind of the child. Since small children usually look upon their parents as gods, it should not be startling to. discover that our concept Of what God is like comes in part from experience with our own fathers. If, for instance, early childhood experiences with a father or father-substitute are unfavorable, as so often happens among neurotics, then one's notion of God the Father is not likely to be true to reality. The individual who has had a father who was a stern disciplinarian and unable to express any warmth toward his children is liable to look upon God as the God of ruthless justice, and not the God of love and mercy. This concept.bf God is the product of experience, and in all probability the individual does not realize that it differs from that of anyone else. This is but one example of how the neurotic mind might develop a warped concept . of God. There are numerous others, all of which profoundly affect the pursuit of sanctity. Since true love of God necessarily presupposes a true knowl-edge of God, the neurotic religious may often find himself with limited tools or even without any tools necessary for progress on the way to perfection. Any progress will first demand that the religious abandon his false notion of God. Generally speaking, such a change will require some type of psychological help. Almost all of us during the course of childhood and adolescence . de~velop some fal,se, or at least dubious ideas about God. It is only through meditation and study" that a religious comes to a true, although limited, knowledge of God. One of th~ characteristics of a neurotic' is self-centeredness. He has a tendenc~ to live inside ¯ him, .self. He frequently looks at the events of dail~ life only in so far as they affect his own personal problem.s. Often his morning meditations become mere ruminations over past hurts and failures; real of imagined. He finds it very difficult to consider things as they actually exist apart from his own disordered personality. Such an outlook does not foster that type of meditation which is likely to produce a .more realistic knowledge of God. As a consequence, the love of God which is demanded of those seeking perfection is either weak or completely ladking, since one cannot fully love God if he has an erroneous concept of Him. 95 ~ICHARD P. VAUGHAN Review for Religious Love of Neighbor The second obligation upon all those who are seeking perfec-tion is love of one's neighbor.4 This obligation poses a special prob-lem for the seriously neurotic religious, in so far as one of the major areas affected by a neurotic condition is that of relationship with others. A characteristic often found in a neurosis is an excessive striving for the manifestations of love and attention from others. This striving stems from early childhood frustrations which have been repressed. The neurotic will generally make use of some protective devices so that he is not forced to look at this anxiety-provoking part of his personality. Some handle the problem by creating a wall between themselves and others. They simply tell themselves that they do not need the rest of the community. Their lives are dedicated to God and their work. And so they withdraw deeper into themselves. Other religious make an initial but unsuccessful effort to satisfy their need for affection, but then turn against the very members of the community who have tried to help them. In general, they manifest a good deal of anger and hostility in their relationships with others. And finally, there are those religious who spend their lives seeking any small manifesta-tion of love and concern from the other members of the community or from the laity. They are very dependent. They are always leaning on someone else. Although they seldom show external resentment when others inevitably fair to satisfy their needs, still often they are seething inside with emotional turmoil. It is not only possible to love those whom we. dislike, but it is a commandment of God. "Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you" (Lk 6:27). Still, if one has an almost constant tendency to be hostile and resentful of others, the task of controlling these feelings becomes extremely, difficult. In the case of neurotic reli-gious, the major obstacles for the practice of charity are feelings of the opposite nature which sp~ing from unconscious sources. One can learn to change erroneous attitudes and feelings if he realizes that he has them and can analyze to some degree why he acts accordingly. But when a person is almost entirely unaware of both his uncharitable actions and the source of these actions, then the practice of charity often becomes an almost insurmountable barrier. Over- Sensitiveness Coupled with the above-mentioned problem is the over-sensitiveness which is a part of most neuroses. The neurotic religious ~Ibid., pp. 157-58. 96 March, 1960 NEUROTICISM AND PERFECTION is more easily offended by a slight or a cross word. He takes all the actions and words of others in a personal sense. Thus, he is more apt to be tempted with uncharitable or even revengeful thoughts. Since he is so self-centered, he will probably find it considerably more difficult to resist these temptations. The slight or cross word is. striking at the most vulnerable part of his personality, namely at his self-esteem; the natural reaction is to protect himself by attacking the offender. The second obligation imposed by perfection, namely charity toward others, therefore, proves much more trying for the neurotic religious than for the rest of the community. In the case of the severely neurotic religious who has little or no insight into his hostile behaviour, the effect of the disorder could reach that point where the virtue of charity would seem to be almost impossible. In such instances, the degree of responsibility for the uncharitable-ness must be taken into consideration. The lives of the saints teach us that any advancement on the way of perfection calls for self-sacrifice and self-renunciation,s The person who is almost entirely taken up with himself has little room in his heart for love of God and neighbor. As it has been stated, one of the major characteristics of neurotics is self-centered-ness. Depending upon the degree of severity, being self-centered will present some kind of an obstacle to sanctity. In the case of religious, some become so absorbed in their own interior conflicts and frustrations that they have little time left for God and the members of their community. They are so filled with self-pity that God has but one meaning for them, namely a source of consolation and solace. These souls are unable to give love to God just as they are unable to give love to their fellow religious or to their students. As a result, self-sacrifice and self-renunciation play little or no part in their lives. Pseudo-Virtues A ~urther handicap resulting from a neurotic condition is the development of pseudo-virtues. These are repeated actions which give the semblance of virtue but in reality are just the result of the disordered personality. For example, pseudo-virtues are sometimes found among those who have deep feelings of inferiority and un-worthiness, which for the most part are uncbnscious. Under the guise of humility, some neurotic religious are constantly defacing themselves before others. Unfortunately, they never stop to analyze ~Ibid., pp. 166-69. 97 RICHARD P. VAOGHAN Review for Religious that what they are actually seeking is a word of praise to offset some very distressing feelings of inferiority. The function of this so-called humility is self-centered and not God-centered. Commandments and Counsels Striving for perfection demands the following of the command-ments and, to a degree, the counsels. "If thou wilt enter into life, keep the commandments . If thou wilt be perfect, go sell what thou hast and give to the poor and thou shalt have a treasure in heaven" (Mt~19:17-21). If a religious is making a true effort to seek perfectio~n, he will strive to keep himself, at the very least, free from serious sin and to observe the demands of his three vows. In addition to grace, this observance of the commandments and following of the vows requires the habit of self-control. Yet one of the first parts of personality to be affected by any kind of mental illness is self-control. Both neurotics and psychotics find that as their disorders become progressively worse, they become less and less able to control their thoughts, feelings, and actions. After an emotional outburst, many a neurotic religious has been shocked and humiliated by his unusual behavior. He will tell himself that he did not act this way before. When he tries to .analyze why he became so angry and lost his temper, he can find no proportionate reason. The reason, however, for his behavior can be attributed to a loss of self-control, resulting from the neurotic disorder. This loss of self-control affects much of the neurotic's behavior. It impairs his pursuit of virtue and fidelity to the vows. The striving for sanctity is further handicapped by continuous periods of depression and fatigue, which seem to mark the path of most neurotics. When a person is unhappy and tired, he becomes an easy prey to temptation. He has less resistance. Pleasure becomes more enticing, since in a moment of darkness any fleeting joy be-comes much more desirable. The start of many a neurotic's escape into sin has begun with a peri6d of depression and unhappiness. Each lapse, especially if the lapses involve sins of a sexual nature, destroys some progress made in the life of virtue. Since repeated sinful actions are apt to become habitual, they make future progress much more difficult. Can a Saint Be Neurotic? What has been said up to this point would seem to indicate that perfection or sanctity is out of the reach of the neurotic religious. The.re are, however, modern authors who maintain that 98 March, 1960 NEUROTICISM AND PERFECTION some of the saints were neurotic. For instance, one states that St. Therese of the Child Jesus suffered from an obsessive-compul-sive neurosis.6 Still, it should be noted that this author says St. Therese appeared to be neurotic at the age of twelve or thir-teen. He does not affirm that she was neurotic when she died. Moreover, he does not state that she was severely neurotic, but that she suffered from a serious case of scruples, which in many cases is considered a neurotic symptom. During the past few decades at' least, it is highly doubtful whether a person could have been severely neurotic and still be considered an apt candidate for canonization. In the Code of Canon Law, we find: "When the cause is that of a confessor (that is, of a servant of God who is not a martyr of the faith), the following question is.to be discussed: whether in the case under consideration there is evidence of the existence of the theological virtues of faith,, hope, and charity (both toward God and toward neighbor) and of the cardinal virtues of prudence, justice, forti-tude, and temperance, and of the subsidiary virtues in a heroic de-gree . ,,7 In view of our analysis of the seriously neurotic per-sonality, it is difficult to see how a religious could attain all the aforesaid virtues to a heroic degree, and thus be worthy of canoniza-tion. It might also be added that, where there is evidence of mental disturbance in a servant of God who is being considered for beati-fication and this disturbance in some way influences the exercise of that servant's freedom, the custom of the Congregation of Rites has been to dismiss or set aside the case. s Spiritual Fate of the Neurotic Religious What, then, is the spiritual fate of the priest, sister, or brother who is severely afflicted with some form of a neurosis? As long as he or she remains in this condition, there would seem to be little chance of attaining a high degree of perfection -- except through the help of a special miracle coming from the hand of God. This handicap, however, does not relieve the particular religious in question of the obligation to seek after perfection. He still has the same obligation as any other religious. He differs from other re-ligious only in so far as he must reconstruct the natural before he 6Josef Goldbrunner, Holiness Is Wholeness (New York: Pantheon, 1955),. p. 25. 7Code of Canon Law, canon 2104. 8Gabriele di Santa Maria Maddalena, "Present Norms of Holiness" in Conflict and Light, edited by Bruno de J~sus-Marie (London: Sheed and Ward, 1952), p. 168. 99 RICHARD P. VAUGHAN Review for Religious can build a solid supernatural life. Most religious have fairly well-balanced personalities when they enter the notiviate. They are, therefore, in a position to take full advantage of the spiritual benefits offered during these years of training. With the neurotic, such is unfortunately not the case. He is frequently so preoccupied with himself and his problems that much of the spiritual fruit offered during the formative years is lost. If a neurotic religious is to advance on the road to sanctity, he must first clear away the natural debris of conflicts, fears, and frustrations. Once this has been accomplished, he will then move ahead as rapidly, if not more rapidly, than the religious who has always had good psychological health. In most instances of severe neurosis, this can only be achieved through some form of psycho-therapy. Protective Devices At the heart of every neurotic condition, no matter how mild or severe, is the development of some kind of a protective device. For example, the individual who feels completely inadequate in his dealings with others may defend himself against having to face this side of his personality by putting on an air of bravado whenever he finds himself in a group of people. Usually the physical and psychological symptoms are merely protective device.s. During the course of our early lives, there is not one of us who does not develop some kind of a personality defect which we cannot bear to manifest, and so we repress it. The way we go about repressing it is to develop a protective device. For this reason, many psy-chiatrists and psychologists say that we are all neurotic to a degree, The difference between the severely neurotic person and the average person is quantitative. The seriously neurotic has many repressed personality defects, and he has built up a very elaborate system of defending himself. This system, however, either fails to give the needed protection, so that he has to face to some extent the repulsive part of himself, or the system itself is such as to prove ankiety-provoking. In the latter case, one could include the religious who uses the defense of compulsive prayer to solve an unconscious conflict. Soon the number of prayers reaches such a proportion as to make the fulfilling of his other obligations impossible~ Then, the religious is caught in a new conflict of obliga-tions which produces more psychological discomfort. The saints who, like St. Therese, gave some evidence of a neurosis built up protective devices or defenses; but they did not 100 March, 1960 NEUROTICISM AND PERFECTION construct those elaborate and complicated systems that char-acterize so many severe neurotics. Had they done so, they un-doubtedly would have also manifested such personality traits as over-sensitivity and self-centeredness. Many religious give evidence of minor neurotic symptoms, such as an unreasonable fear of high places or occasional attacks of scruples. These symptoms in themselves need not be handicaps to perfection. They may even become sources of spiritual progress. As soon as a religious, however, manifests not only these minor symptoms but also some of the neurotic personality traits, then the way to perfection and sanctity becomes progressively more difficult. Need of Psychotherapy The foregoing discussion should bring out the need of a solid natural foundation on which to build the religious life. The priest, brother, or sister who is plagued with numerous psychological problems has a poor foundation on'which to construct his or her spiritual life. In almost every instance, supernatural virtue de-mands natural virtue. This fact points to the importance of psy-chotherapy for the severely neurotic religious. For without psycho-therapy,- these religious will be unable to achieve or sometimes even to seek after the primary goal of the religious life. Sanctity and perfection are out of their reach. But once they have received and cooperated with some form of psychological help, they are in a position to use the grace God gives to every religious. It stands to reason that the sooner a religious has the opportunity to clear away debris of psychological conflicts, the sooner he can get to the prime purpose of his chosen life, namely his own perfection and sanctity. 101 Survey of Roman Documents R. F. Smith, S.J. THE FOLLOWING article will survey the documents that appeared in .Acta Apostolicae Sedis (AAS) during the months of October and November, 1959. All references in the article will be to the 1959 AAS (v. 51). Encyclical on the Rosary Under the date of September 26, 1959 (pp. 673-78), Pope John XXIII issued the encyclical Grata recordatio. The document is a brief one which begins by recalling the many Marian encyclicals of Leo " XIII. After emphasizing the desire he has for the devout recitation of the Rosary especially during the month of October, the Vicar of Christ then listed the matters for which he principally wished private and public prayers to be offered during the month of the Rosary. The "first intention was for the Holy See and for all ecclesiastical orders in the Church. The Pontiff's second intention was for all apostolic laborers that they may be granted the grace to speak the word of God with all confidence in its power. In the third place the Pope asked the faithful to remember in their prayers the leaders of the nations of the world. Catholics, he said, should petition God that these leaders may give the deepest consideration to the critical situation that the world faces today, that they may seek out the causes of discord, and that, realizing that war measures can lead only to destruction for all concerned, they may place no hope in such means. Let the leaders of the world, the Holy Father remarked, recall the eternal laws of God which are the foundation of good government; similarly they should remind themselves that just as men have been created by God, so also they are destined to possess and enjoy Him. The fourth and final intention for which John XXIII asked special prayers was the diocesan synod of Rome and the coming general council of the Church. Saints, Blessed, Servants of God Under the date of May 26, 1959, the Holy See issued two decretal letters (pp. 737-49, 750-64) concerning the canonization of St. Charles of Sezze (1613-1669) and St. Joaquina de Vedruna de Mas (1783-1854). Each of the letters begins with an account of the life of the saint, details the history of the cause for canonization, and finally gives the official account of the actual canonization. 102 ROMAN DOCUMENTS On August 11, 1958 (pp. 830-31), the Sacred Congregation of Rites formally confirmed the immemorial cult by which Herman Joseph, priest of the Premonstratensian Order, has been honored as a saint. The same congregation also issued a monitum (p. 720) in which it noted two mistakes in the text of the second nocturn for the feast of St. Lawrence of Brindisi. On April 22, 1959 (pp. 717-20), the same congrega-tion approved the introduction of the cause of the Servant of God Peter Joseph Savelberg (1827-1907), priest and founder of the Congregations of the Brothers and the Little Sisters of St. Joseph. On October 14, 1959 (pp. 818-20), the Pope addressed an allocution to a gro.up interested in the cause of Niels Steensen. The Pontiff praised Steensen for the remarkable scientific rigor with which he studied the works of God in order to better understand their structure and make-up; he also noted Steensen's pioneering work in anatomy, biology, geology, and crystallography. But it was Steensen's work after his conversion to the Church that the Pontiff principally emphasized. Once converted, he noted, the scholar gave up his chair of anatomy in the University of Copenhagen and began to study for the priesthood. After his ordina-tion and after his consecration as a bishop that soon followed, he began a life .of poverty, mortification, and suffering. He became especially noted for his zeal to lead non-Catholics back to the Church. His work in this area, the Pope remarked, was characterized by two notable qualities: his unalterable attachment to all points of revealed doctrine; and his great respec.t and love for those who did not share his own religious convictions. Miscellaneous Documents On November 4, 1959 (pp. 814-18), John XXIII delivered a homily in St. Peter's on the occasion of the first anniversary of his coronation as Pope. After recalling the feelings aroused in him by the first year of his pontificate, the Pope proceeded to outline a program of action based on the Our Father. His efforts, he said, will be directed to see that the name of God be blessed and acclaimed; that His spiritual kingdom may triumph in souls and in nations; that all human forces m~y be in conformity with the will of the heavenly Father. This last point, he insisted, is the essential one; from it will flow man's daily bread, the pardon of human offenses, the vigor of man's resistance to evil, and the preservation of men from all individual and social evils. On September 13, 1959 (pp. 709-14), the Holy Father broadcast a message for the conclusion of the National Eucharistic Congress of Italy. He told his listeners that the Eucharist is truly the mystery of faith, for it is the living compendium of all Catholic belief. In the Eucharist, he said, is found Christ, the only mediator between God and man; in it is found the lasting memorial of the sacrifice offered by Christ on Calvary; and in it is found the Head of the Mystical Body from whom come the sacraments which give fecundity and 103 1~. F. SMITH Review for Religious beauty to the Church. He concluded his broadcast by reminding his listeners that two thousand years of progress, in knowledge, in art, in culture, in economics, in politics, and in social matters have not diminished the truth of Christ's words: "Amen, amen, I~ say to you: if you do not eat the flesh of the son of man and do not drink his blood, you shall not have life in you" (Jn 6:54). A later radio broadcast on October 11, 1959 (pp. 777-78), was directed to the people of Argentina on the occasion of their Eucharistic Congress. He told the Argentines that if the human race would practice the lessons of love and unity which come from the Eucharist, then the miseries and discords of the world would cease to be. The Eucharist, he said, is the source of harn~ony and true peace for individuals, families, and peoples; for it restrains the passions, especially those of pride and egoism. On October 11, 1959 (pp. 766-69), the Vicar of Christ addressed a group of missionaries to whom he had just given their missionary crosses. He told the future missionaries that the peoples of the world await them, since they carry the secret of true peace and of tranquil progress. He ~lso reminded his listeners that the Church has received from her Founder the mandate to seek out all peoples so as to unite them into one family; accordingly no human force, no difficulty, no obstacle can stop the Church's missionary work which, will end only when God is all in all things. In his concluding words the Pontiff re-minded the missionaries that the cross they had just received should show them at what price the world is saved; the crucified Christ should be their model and their example; in their work, therefore, they should not put their trust and confidence in helps that are of purely human inspiration. On April 13, 1959 (pp. 691-92), the Holy Father issued an apos-tolic letter, raising to the status of an abbey the priory of the Sacred ¯ Heart in Ofiate. The new abbey belongs to members of the Canons Regular of the Lateran. On September 25, 1959 (pp. 706-9), John XXIII delivered an allocution to the Abbot Primate and other relS-resentatives of the Benedictine order. The Pontiff recalled with gratitude. the great debt of the Church to the Benedictine order and continued by reminding his listeners that the primary form of their apostolic work must be the chanting of the Divine Office. This, he said, is espec-ially necessary today, when so many men are intent on earthly matters to the negligence of celestial things. He also recalled the other works of the order and concluded by urging his listeners to keep faithfully to their traditions without hesitating, however, to use and accept new things that are proved to be good and useful. On October 19, 1959 (pp. 822-25), the Pontiff addressed an allocu-tion to the members, officials, and lawyers of the Rota. After giving a brief history of the Rota, the Pope told his listeners that they have been called by Providence to the defense of justice without regard to any other consideration including that of the authority or reputation of 104 March, 1960 I~OMAN DOCUMENTS those having recourse to the Rotao In this, he said, they must imitate the sovereign equity of the just and merciful God, before whom there is no acceptation of persons. In the latter part of the allocution the Vicar of Christ called the Rota the tribunal of the Christian family. By defending the sanctity and the indissolubility of matrimony, the Rota protects it from the attacks of a hedonistic egoism; at the same time, when it acknowledges the invalidity or non-existehce of a marriage bond, the Rota acts as the guardian of the sacred rights of the human person. On August 28, 1959 (pp. 701-2), the Pope sent a letter to Arch-bishop Martin John O'Connor, rector of the North American College in Rome, congratulating him on the hundredth anniversary of the college. Later on October 11, 1959 (pp. 770-75), the Pontiff gave an address to the students of the college, detailing to them the numerous ways in which the various Popes have manifested a special interest in the college. The growth of the college from its opening days with thirteen students to its large groups at the present time is, he continued, a sign of the growth of the Church in the United States. The Holy Father concluded the allocution by telling the students that the cause of Mother Elizabeth Seton had already passed the antepreparatory stage and that consequently there was good reason to hope that in a relatively short time the cause would be brought to completion. On October 13, 1959 (pp. 775-77), the Pope addressed present and former students of the Teutonic College of Sancta Maria de Anima on the occasion of the hundredth anniversary of Plus IX's reorganization of the college. He congratulated the college on its past achievements and urged it to greater things in the future. On September 6, 1959 (pp. 703-6), the Pontiff talked to a group of Italian elementary teachers, telling them to have a profound and jealous esteem for their mission of education. This esteem, he said, should be based on the .following considerations: Teachers train the minds of their charges, a consideration which, he added, should make them eager to perfect themselves constantly in their own culture. Moreover, teachers form the souls of their children; to teachers, then, is ent~'usted the forma-tion of the men of tomorrow. Finally, he concluded, teachers should encourage themselves by remembering that by their work they are preparing for themselves a special reward in heaven according to the words of Daniel 12:3, "But they that are learned shall shine as the brightness of the firmament; and they that instruct many to justice, as stars for all eternity." On October 17, 1959 (pp. 821-22), the Vicar of Christ spoke to a group of persons interested in the human values to be found in labor. He congratulated the group for putting the things of the spirit before every other consideration and recommended to them the exercise of Christian virtue. He especially urged them to follow the maxim of St. Benedict, "Pray and work"; they should, he said, make prayer their 105 VIEWS,' NEWS, PREVIEWS Review [or Religious very breath and their food in the conviction that every human activity, no matter how lofty and praiseworthy, is not to be limited to an earthly horizon, but should tend towards the City of God. On October 1, 1959 (pp. 764-66), the Vicar of Christ spoke to a congress of the Apostolate of the Blind. The ~lind, he said, teach other men to value the light of intelligence and of virtue. He also reminded his listeners that the cry of the blind man of the gospel, "Lord, grant that I may see," arises today from multitudes of men who are spiritually blind; accordingly he urged his listeners to direct their prayers to the Blessed Virgin that the day will soon come when "all flesh will see the salvation of God." In a letter of October 12, 1959 (pp. 809-10), the Pope accepted the resignation of Cardinal Pizzardo from his position as secretary of the Holy Office. On November 20, 1959 (pp. 810-12), he accepted the resignation of Cardinal Tisserant as Secretary of the Sacred Oriental Congregation. On the same day (pp. 812-13) he accepted the resignation of Cardinal Cicognani as Pro-Prefect of the Supreme Tribunal of the Apostolic Segnatura. On October 9, 1959 (p. 829), the Sacred Consistorial Congregation named Francis Xavier Gillmore Stock the military vicar of Chile. An apostolic constitution of April 17, 1959 (pp. 789-91), established ¯ an exarchate in Germany for Ruthenians of the .Byzantine rite. The see of the exarchate will be in Munich. On September 23, 1959 (p. 832), the Sacred Apostolic Penitentiary published the text and indulgences of a prayer for the coming general council. An English translation of the prayer and its grant of indulgences will be found on pages 65-66 of this issue of the REVIEW. Views, News, Previews A RELIGIOUS WOMAN who has had a ten-year struggle against serious mental sickness has sent to the REVIEW an account of her experiences and of the lessons that can be drawn from them. The account ~is given below in the sister's own words: To many individuals, both lay and religious, the thought of living with one whb has been an inmate in a mental institution seems foreign, until it strikes home. When the family ties are those of blood relationship, there is sometimes a feeling of love, of pride, or even of legal force that makes for an attempt to keep the person a part of the family unit, even if this may cause inconvenience, embarrassment, or added expense to the other members of the family. When the relationship is one of a spir-itual nature even greater love and understanding might be expected, since the bond which binds a religious family should reflect the love of Christ Himself. Why, then, are there a considerable number of religi-ous whose returfi to their religious communities, when recommended 106 March, 1960 VIEWS, NEWS, PREVIEWS by the medical staff of a mental hospital, brings with it a stigma that differentiates them from the sisters who resume their usual duties after regaining their health from a physical illness? Perhaps personal ex-perience over a period of ten years may be helpful to others -- both sick and healthy, both superiors and subjects. In September of 1949 my usual teaching duties began. Shortly afterwards I experienced symptoms I did not understand -- sudden spells of crying, with no apparent provocation, and at the most unexpected.times. Since that time I have been a patient in four mental hospitals, seen fourteen psychiatrists, and a slightl~ lesser number of experienced priests. There is no regret in my having been ill. In fact, I think God, in HIS goodness, timed it well to save me from a growing pride and possibly a rather shallow religious life. Is it impossible for a sistek emotionally or mentally disturbed for a short time to again be a useful member of the community? Could mental sickness occur in a sister who ordinarily enjoys good health and has no history of mental illness in her family? Both may be firmly answered in the affirmative. With the realization that a "yes" may be given to question number two, the ego in you (but we hope also your love of neighbor) may spark your interest to further information on question number one. With good medical help received in time, prayer, patience, and a determination to win on the part of the patient, and.a kind and sensible attitude on the part of other members of the community, a very sick person may again be an active and useful worker for Christ as a perfectly normal member of the community. Lacking one or more of these condi-tions, she may be an added burden financially, a loss to a much needed Christian apostolate; and there is no guarantee that her suffering is any more pleasing to God than her active work would be. Resignation to His will as an inmate of a mental institution calls for the highest degree of fortitude. How many reach this goal? And how many potentially good religious have the spiritual capacity to repel bitterness or at least apathy? What can be done to lessen the number of sisters who are lost to the active apostolate unndcessarily? Superiors may: (1) be informed of symptoms of emotional disturbance. Early recognition and treatment is important. For the bu~y superior Psychiatry and Catholicism by Van der Veldt and OdenwaldI ig fairly comprehensive. (2) Have a Christ-like attitude toward the sick sister which will inspire confidence. (3) If hospitalization is necessary, welcome the patient's return to the community and to her work on the same basis as one returning after an appendectomy or other physical illness. Subjects may: (1) on the patient's return from the mental hospital, ac-cept the doctor's decision that she is well enough to return to religious ~Editor's note: James H. Van der Veldt and Robert P. Odenwald (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1952). 107 VIEWS, NEWS, PREVIEWS Review for Religious life and treat her like any other sister. (2) Do not avoid her or show fear in other ways, such as locking bedroom doors at night, and so forth. The patient may: (1) accept her suffering as.coming from God, but not with a pessimistic outlook; (2) cooperate with medical help given; (3) determine to regain her health, with trust in God, if such is His will; (4) keep busy or try to help others when the type and intensity of the illness-permits. It's a wonderful way to minimize your own troubles. The proof of the pudding lies in the eating. Mine has been a pro-longed meal -- ten years -- but I hope soon to taste the sweetness of dessert. A short resume will crystalize the effectiveness of the suggestions above. November, 1949, forced to give up teaching, 1949-1954, in and out of mental hospitals, stays varying from tw~ weeks to three months. Returning to the community meant being a human chessman on the board, moved here and there with jobs ranging from teaching on all levels, elementary through college, to weeding the motherhouse garden. Duration of jobs might be anywhere from one to eighteen months. The feeling of "not belonging" anywhere was not easy to accept but probably forced me to a greater trust in Christ. 1952, my spiritual director first suggested I leave my community. After twenty-four years of religious life this came as an atomic blow. 1954, Rome granted me an indult of exclaustration. 1954-1956, I.looked like a secular, lived as much as possible a religious life, and discovered I Leapt Over the Wall was a bit exaggerated. The offices in which I worked and the public school which hired me to organize and supervise an art department offered opportunity for God's work. 1956, my doctor and my spiritual director advised me to return to my community. I thought this happy move was permanent. 1957, illness struck again. On the advice of my spiritual director, Rome granted another three-year period of exclaustration. 1957-1959, organization of another public school art department brought me to a New York State area where there is much work to be done with Catholic students, civic, educational and social organizations, the local Newman Club, and friends who just come to my apartment to paint, but end up talking what they really hunger for -- religion and good living! 1960, my doctor, my spiritual director, and the vicar for religious recom-mend my return to my community. I look forward to it with true joy and the hope that with God's grace, my own cooperation, and the help of my superiors and sisters, this will be my home, until Christ welcomes me to an eternal one. The fight against depression has not been easy, but God always provided the necessary help. as it was needed. There have been setbacks which I could never have surmounted alone. Even now I am not a 108 March, 1960 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Hercules of nerves.'Marsilid and equanil supplement my daffy prayers. These are not a cure but a purely natural means, not to be spurned, in keeping me fit to do a job for Christ. There are other religions emotionally or mentally ill at present, some in hospitals, some still devotedly "holding on" to their assignments in religious communities. There will be more in the futu}e. If this account gives hope to even one, I shall feel grateful to the priests and doctors who encouraged me to write. The Institute for Religious at College Misericordia, Dallas, Penn-sylvania (a three-yea~ summer course of twelve days in canon law and ascetical theology for sisters), will be held this year August 20-31. This is the first year in the triennial course. The course in canon law is given by the Rev. Joseph F. Gallen, S. J., that in ascetical theology by the Rev. Thomas E. Clarke, S. J., both of Woodstock College, Woodstock, Maryland. The registration is restricted to higher superiors, their councilors, general and provincial officials, mistresses of novices, and those in similar positions. Applications are to be addressed to Rev. Joseph F. Gallen, S. J., Woodstock College; Woodstock, Md. ( uestions and Answers [The following answers are given b~v Father Joseph F. Gallen, S. J., professor of canon law at Woodstock Col!eg~, Woodstock, Maryland.] Local Houses and Superiors Questions and cases on local houses and local superiors have been submitted with great frequency. Private replies were given to most of these, but it was thought profitable and even necessary to publish all " together and in l?gical order. Questions have been divided whenever this was demanded by the same order. The questions on local houses and local superiors will be continued through several issues of the REVIEW. I. Local Houses 1. We are a clerical exempt institute. We wish to rent a house in a summer resort, to be used only as a vacation place for our com-munity. Do we need the permission of the local ordinary to rent and use this house? The stable residence of religious and the customary tenor of life of the institute are necessary to have a religious house in any sense of this term. Therefore, a mere vacation residence owned, rented, or granted temporarily to an institute and used only as a vacation place is not a religious but a secular house. It lacks both of the requisites given 109 QUESTIONS AND ANSWEas Review for Religious above. Canon law contains no prescriptions on secular houses of religious, and therefore no permission of the local ordinary is necessary for any institute to build or open such a vacation or similar residence. It would usually be courteous to consult him before taking this action; for example, many such residences in one resort might cause difficulty for the diocese. The two requisites given above can be verified in residences which are used also as vacation places; if so, they are canonically erected or filial houses, which will be explained in questions and cases below. 2. What is the relation of the other buildings on our grounds to the religious house, that is, the building in which at least most of the religious reside? In its material sense, a religious house is the house or building in which the religious reside; but all buildings located within the same property, grounds, or premises and buildings not separated from that in which the religious reside are considered part of the. religious house; for example, separate buildings on the same grounds for a college, a preparatory or elementary school, library, science building, infirmary, gymnasium, and houses for workmen are all part of the religious house. Even when not on the same grounds nor contiguous to the residence of the religious, a building is not considered as separate if it can be judged morally to form part of the same group of buildings. It is certainly separate if a mile distant; but a building a few doors away from the residence of the religious, even if a street is between them, can still be said to be part of the same group of buildings. Because of this material sense, a novice is not absent if he is confined by sickness to an infirmary building on the same grounds but distinct 'from the novitiate building (c. 556, §§ 1-2). For the same reason, first profession may licitly be made in the college chapel on the same grounds, even though this building is distinct from that in which the community resides (c. 574, § 1). 3. Our constitutions 'speak of property owned and debts incur-red by the houses, provinces, and institute. How can any of these as such own property or incur debts? In the formal and more important sense, a religious .house is the same thing as a canonically erected religious house. It is the community as a distinct moral person, distinguished as such from both the province and the institute, which are also moral persons. A moral person in the Church may be described as an ecclesiastical corporation. It is a subject of rights and obligations, which are distinct from those of its members considered individually or collectively. A moral person can acquire, own, and administer property (cc. 531-32); is responsible for its debts and obligations (c. 536, § 1); can sue or be sued in court (cc. 1552, § 2, 1°; 1649; 1653, § 6); can receive privileges (cc. 72, §§ 3:4; 613; 615); enjoys precedence (cc. 106, 491), and so forth. The antecedent requisites for a canonically erected house are: (1) at the time of the erection it must 110 March, 1960 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS consist of at least three religions (c. 100, § 2); (2) a distinct community with its own proper superior; (3) the stable dwelling of religious in the house; (4) and the customary tenor of life of the institute according to its particular constitutions. It is not necessary that a religions institute be the proprietor of a canonically erected house, a filial house, or a separated establishment. All of these may be owned or rented by the institute or their use gratuitously given to the institute. All may be an entire building or a part of a building, for example, a floor or an apartment. The Code of Canon Law itself grants to a canonically erected house the character of a moral person consequent upon the fulfillment of the canonical formalities prescribed for an erection. 4. Our constitutions state that a parish school convent, because it is owned by the parish, cannot be a canonically erected religious house. Is this correct? No. As stated in the preceding question, the character of a moral person, of an ecclesiastical corporation, is something completely distinct from the ownership of the property where the moral person is located. Therefore, ownership of the property by the religious institute is not required for a canonically erected religious house. The sense of these particular constitutions may be that the institute will petition canonical erection only for houses that it owns. 5. Our hospital ,is civilly incorporated. The board of the civil corporation authorized the addition of a new wing to the hospital. This will cost $2,500,000. Do we need any permissions beyond the authorization of this board? Every religious institute, province, or house, by its erection as a moral person according to the norms of canon law, possesses, in virtue " of canon 531, the unlimited right of acquiring, owning, and administering temporal property (cf. c. 1495, § 2). This right extends to all species of property, all rights of use, and the right of receiving returns on property. The code permits the particular constitutions to exclude o~ limit this capacity. When the civil state, as in the United States, does not recognize an ecclesiastical moral person established by the Church, religions moral persons should incorporate civilly, so as to secure civil efficacy and protection of their property rights, which they actually possess from canon law. The incorporation therefore is a mere civil formality. The property rights are possessed in virtue of canon law, and the property must always be administered according to canon law and the constitu- ¯ tions (c. 532, § 1). In any transaction, the requisite civil formalities are to be fulfilled but only that the transaction may have civil efficacy and protection. The substantial law that governs the transaction is that of canon law and the constitutions. Care is to be taken, if externs are ad-mitted as members of the board, that religious of the institute are always in the majority. An institute may treat such a board also as an advisory 111 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Review for Religious committee, but in itself the authorization of the board is a mere civil formality. In the present case, the transaction is the expenditure of $2,500,000 for a new wing to a hespital. If the hospital already has this sum on hand, the permission of the mother general with the vote of her council prescribed by the general chapter will be necessary, because the trans-action is an act of extraordinary administration. If the hospital has to borrow money for the project, as is most likely true, the norms of canon 534 on contracting debts, supplemented by the enactments of the general chapter on the same subject, must be observed. In either case, the re-course to higher authority is required for the validity of the transaction. See Vermeersch-Creusen, Epitome Iuris Canonici, II, n. 819; Brys, Juris Canonici Compendium, II, n. 855; Muzzarelli, De Congregationibus Iuris Dioecesani, n. 163; Goyeneche, Quaestiones Canonicae, I, 253; Vromant, De Bonis Ecc~esiae Temporalibus, n. 8. 6. We have the house system of delegates for the general chapter, that is, each house of~ at least twelve religious sends its local superior to this chapter in virtue of his office and elects one non-superior delegate. Smaller houses are combined into groups of at least twelve and not more than twenty-three religious. Each group elects one superior and one non-superior delegate. Are filial houses considered smaller houses? In some institutes, all houses except the mother house are called missions, branch houses, or filial houses, which is not the strict sense. The essential note of a filial house in the strict sense is that it is not a distinct moral person but part of the larger canonically erected house to which it is attached. The one at the head Of a filial house is therefore not a superior in the proper sense of this word, even though he may have this title. He is a mere delegate of either a higher superior or of the superior of the larger house, and his authority is as wide as the delegation. In lay institutes, he is appointed by a higher superior, either for a specified term, for example, three years, or for no determined period of time. In the latter case, he may be removed at any time at the mere will of the higher superior. Since it is not a moral person, the filial house does not own property, all of which is owned by the larger house. There-fore, it has no bursar. Its local bursar is that of the larger house, but he may have an assistant in the filial house. A filial house has no coun-cilors, since it is not canonically a house (c. 516, § 1). Unless otherwise specified in the constitutions, the capitular rights of those residing in the filial house are exercised in the larger house, of which t.hey are to vote as members for the election of delegates~ to the provincial or general chapter. The number of religious resident in a filial house is usually small. The larger house to which the filial house is attached is ordinarily located in the same city or in a nearby place. The constitutions of brothers and sisters, whether pontifical or diocesan, most rarely mention filial houses. All such institutes may open 112 March, 1960 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS filial houses, unless this is expressly forbidden by the constitutions. A few constitutions have only a brief statement of the following type: "Communities of two or three sisters can be made dependent on larger houses when the mother general and her council consider it opportune." Such constitutions do not explain the election of delegates in ~elation to a filial house. Others contain such an explanation; for example: "Religious living in branch houses who cannot go to the principal house for the election of the delegate will send their sealed votes there. These votes will be, taken out of their envelopes in. the presence of the com-munity and placed in the ballot box with those of the religious who are present," "Branch houses have not the right of sending either superior or delegates to the proyincial chapter, but the vocal sisters of these branch houses will unite with the vocal sisters of the nearest house to elect delegates to the provincial chapter." Unless a special provision has been made in the constitutions, as in the last case, those residing in the filial house must vote as members of the larger house to which the former is attached for the election of delegates. This is evident from the fact that the filial house is part of the larger house. This essential argument is confirmed by the fact that the religious at the head of a filial house is not a superior and therefore has no right to be voted for as a superior delegate. Furthermore, the constitutions say that smaller houses are to be united (cf. Normae of 1901, n. 216). A filial house is not canonically a house but part of a house. The present difficulty in the election of delegates occurs only in the house, not in the group, system. Unless the constitutions state the contrary, as.in the second dase, all electors must be physically present for an election, according to the norm of canon 163. In lay congregations, a filial house ordinarily does not contain more than three religious; but this is not a matter of general law in the Church. Even in such institutes, filial houses are sometimes larger. The following authors explicitly affirm that the capitular rights are to be exercised in the house t'o which the filial house is attached: Maroto, Commentarium Pro Religiosis, 5 (1924), 128, note 14; Ver-meersch, Periodica, 13 (1923), 55; Schaefer, De Religiosis, n. 166; Jombart, Dictionnaire de Droit Canonique, VI, 700; Creusen, Religious Men and Women in Church Law, n. 12; Fanfanl, De Iure Religiosorum, m 20; De Carlo, Jus Religiosorum, n. 42; Flanagan, The Canonical Erection of Religious Houses, 31. 7. Our constitutions distinguish formal and non-formal

The Mercury May, 1907 HELP THOSE WHO HELP US. The Intercollegiate Bureau of Academic Costume. Cotrell & Leonard, ALBANY, N. Y. takers of CAPS AND GOWNS To Gettysburg College, Lafayette, Lehigh, Dickinson, State College, Univ. of Penn-sylvania, Harvard, Yale, Princeton, Wellesley, Bryn Mawr and the others. Class Contracts a Specialty. Correct Hoods for Degrees. GOOD POSITIONS FOR COLLEGE MEN. Last year practically every college man on our lists was placed before September 1st,—over 1500 iu all. The demand is greater this year, the opportunities better! One Amherst man whom we placed in business three yeais ago is now earning $8^000 a year. Shall we take up your case with some of the 20,000 employers we serve? Write us today stating position desired, teaching, business or tech-nical work. Offices in 12 cities. H^p&©(9BS, THJK vVJT/O.Tjr/> HUUAJVlZJITiOJY OJ? Htt.lM.V \l UHtli lilts. HOTEL GETTYSBURG, Headquarters for BANQUETS. Electric Lights, Steam Heat, All Conveniences. Free Bus to and from station. Convenient for Commencement Visitors. BATES $2.00 PER DAY. . _wery Q.i-to.on.ed. Jol]i| P. ^ci^tiil, Proprietor. IF YOU CALL ON C. A. Blocher, Jeweler, CENTER SQUARE, He can serve you with anything you may want in BEPAIBUNIO or JEWELRY. WE RECOMMEND THESE FIRMS. Established 1SS7 by Allen Walton. ALLEN K. WALTON, Pres. and Treas. KOBT. J. WALTON, Supt. Hummelstown Brown Stone Companv, QUARRYMEN and Manufacturers of BUILDING STONE, SAWED FLAGGING and TILE. WaVtoTW-llle, ISco-ii-pl-i-ln, -&o. Pa. CONTRACTORS FOR ALL KINDS OF CUT STONE WORK. Telegraph and Express Address, Brownstone, Pa. Parties visit-ing quarries will leave cars at Brownstone Station on the P. & R. R. R. For Artistic Photographs Go To TIPTOE The Leader in ■ PHOTO FASHIONS Frames and Passapartouts Made to Order. R. A. WONDERS CORNER CIGAR PARLORS. A full line of Cigars, Tobacco, Pipes, etc. Scott's Cor., opp. Eagle Hotel, GETTYSBURG, PA. Pool Parlors in Connection. Come and Have a Good Shave or Hair Cut —AT— Harry B. Sefioo s BARBER SHOP. 35 Baltimore St. Barber's Supplies a Specialty. Also choice line of Cigars. SHOES REPAIRED —BY-Charles Hartdagen, Middle St., Opp. Court House, GUARANTEE ALL WORK. GETTYSBURG DEPARTMENT STORE, Successors to the L. M. Alleman Hardware Co., Manufacturer's Agent and Jobber of HARDWARE, OILS, PAINTS AND QUEENSWARE, GETTYSBURG, PA. The only Jobbing House in Adams County. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. 2 * **. f*t * ft * ft ft ft ft f«t ft ft ft ft fftt ft ft ft ft a ft ft »« ft ft ft ft ft ft * ft « « ft a « ft « a ft «a ft ft ft ft * « « ft a ft « « ft « ft a « « « ««« ft «« *« SeligiTiqtl Ar* Gettysburg's Most Reliable TAILORS And sbow their appreciation of your patronage by giving you full value for your money, and closest attention to the wants of every customer. a^C Give Them Your Patronage. »« »»« «« «»«« »««« »« .»««» «» «» «««»» ««« *«» »«»»»« «»««« »« «»»»« «««» .»«»« «« »ftft«»»«»#»««##»*»«*»«************************* PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. i*iith^.^.^.^^r^^ir>&?fci^^ .i'. Ti .T t /f! i ;!. .•Is a 'i: i T'ii" ft '■i '!: ■f .a-I-. "K I"I: Weaver Pianos and Organs Essentially the instruments for criti-cal and discriminating buyers. Super-ior in every detail of construction and superb instruments for the production of a great variety of musical effects and the finest shades of expression. Close Prices. Easy Terms. Old Instruments Eschangel WEAVER ORGAN AND PIANO CO., MANUFACTURERS, YORK, PA , U S A. ■•A * '•!■■ :v. •i- 'j' ••!■■ * 'V. M- "•i*" Ti. M- ~v. ■•!; 'V. w "it 'V. •1' 'V. t Students' Headquarters —FOR-HATS, SHOES, AND GENT'S FURNISHING. Sole Agent tor WALK-OVER SHOE ECKERT'S STORE. Prices Always Right Tlje Lutheran Puilictttion Society No 1424 Arch Street, PH.LADtLPHIA, PA. Acknowledged Headquarters for anything and everything in the way of Books for Churches. Colleges, Families and Schools, and literature for Sunday Schools. PLEASE REMEMBER That by sending your orders to us you help build up and develop one of the church in-stitutions with pecuniary ad-vantage to yourself. Address HENRY S. BONER, Sup't. T H E HERCORV The Literary Journal of Gettysburg College. VOL. xv GETTYSBURG, PA., MAY 1907 No. 3 CONTENTS 'REVERIES OF A BACHELOR"—A Criticism FRANK W. MOSEK, '07 m THE VALUE OF ROUTINE—Essay G. E. WOLJE, '09 THE FLOWING TIBARE—Song REV. GEORGE C. HENRY, '76 80 POE ^WIZARD OR CHARLATAN W. WISSLER HACKMAN, '08 81 THE KING'S RESOURCES HESSE, '09 85 OPHELIA AND HER MAID AFTER THE PLAY GEO'. W. KESSLER, '08 89 THE AMERICAN IMMIGRATION QUESTION-Oration 91 E. E. SNYDER, '09 EDITORIALS EXCHANGES 95 96 66 THE MERCURY. REVERIES OF A BACHELOR. FRANK W. MOSER, '07. ^ITERATURE is a "positive element" of civilization, a keen reflector of internal conditions and passing phases. u In different countries it exists at different times in'va-rious ways, now as a "passive taste" and again as an active tendency toward new development. American literature arose amid the stern realities of an experimental republic and de-manded all the strength of the giant intellects that were guid-ing that republic. It was natural that the first development should be theologieal. For a long time the mental life of the colonies was identical with their religious expansion. At a later period oratory flourished and many illustrious names were enrolled under its banner. Then, after the new govern-ment had acquired a firm foundation and records were being made in civil and political life, history arose and occupied the center of the stage. Finally, amid an era of prosperity, when men's minds were no longer forced to dwell eternally on the struggle for life, a taste for the literature of daily life became prevalent. The unique characterizations of Queen Ann's time could scarcely help but have their influence on American minds. The "Spectator," the "Guardian" and the "Tattler" soon had American imitators and from the first this kind of production was eminently successful. "The Lay Preacher" was the first American venture along this line and this was quickly followed by such homely tales as the "Legend' of Sleepy Hollow" and Joe Neal's "Charcoal Sketches." Brought up in the atmosphere of these several evolutions and subjected continually to the influence of the men of belles-lettres of his age, it is small wonder that Donald G. Mitchell should turn to writing what he himself calls 'a collection of those floating reveries which have from time to time drifted across by brain." The inscription upon the title page (edition of A. L- Burt, New York,) is admirably chosen. "It is worth the labor— saith Plotinus—to consider well of Love, whether it be a God, or a divell, or passion of the mind, or partly God, partly divell, partly passion." It is in truth a delightful species, * Winner of the Graeff Essay Prize. THE MERCURY. 67 easier to define by negatives than by positives. It is not an autobiography, though portraying strongly the traits of the man, his freshness and vigor ; not a volume of essays, though it contains many utterances of that distinct type ; not fiction, though sometimes far more suggestive than fact. It is a book of revelations, but also a book of conditions, of subtle thought, keen observation, shrewd humor, and poignant pathos. With it all there is a perfect freedom that makes it seem, as Edward Quillian says, part of "Those sun-dyed fancies, airy reveries, Freaks of imagination, waking dreams, Ephemeral fantasies of playful hues," which may "Fade into nothing if uncropt, and die forgotten," or may 'Become heir-looms for after times." The first reverie, "Smoke, Flame and Ashes" was published in the "Southern Literary Messenger" and met with such suc-cess that he was inspired to write others and finally to publish the whole in book form in 1850. The success of the book is clearly revealed in the fact that from its issue in 1850 to 1854 more than seventy thousand copies were sold and in the first six months alone the author received royalties amounting to four thousand dollars. The style and language of the book are complex. The former fluctuates from sentimental musings on connubial joy to the most violent outbursts of grief and intermingled with both is a didactic element that made him scratch upon the "handle to the little bronze taper.holder that meaning passage of the New Testament—Nut yup lp\i rai—the night cometh." In language also there is a curious mixing of homely, ever5T-day words with classical expressions. He shows a wonderful power of word-painting and every syllable in some of, his pas-sages seems to blend to the nicest shade with the harmony of the whole. The reveries themselves are four in number. The first is over a wood fire ; the second by a city grate, filled first with sea coal and then with anthracite ; the third over a cigar, lighted successively with a coal, a whisp of paper, and a match ; the last a meditation over a rural scene concerning 68 THE MERCURY. morniug, which is Past ; noon which is Present ; and even-ing, which is Future. The reverie over the wood fire is marked by a mocking note that jars rather painfully upon one's sensibilities and makes one feel all out of sympathy with the phases of life as he de-scribes them. The ground tone of the whole, as made mani-fest in the climax,' is sorrow. The events stand out like a white steeple against a stormy cloud, which, like sorrow, per-vades the whole seen-. It almost seems indeed as if, like the pre-Raphael painters, he had fashioned the background and then filled in the steeple. The author makes himself pain-fully felt in the delineation of domestic sorrow, but he pro tracts it line upon line until the reader impatiently recoils from what takes the shape of a morbid anatomy, an almost wanton empiricism in matters of life and death. After a brief prologue, necessary to a proper setting of the reverie, he plunges boldly into the stage of smoke—signifying doubt—by exclaiming, "A wife? Yes, a wife: and why " Then in a bald "I calculate" spirit he proceeds to view the situation and lets his thoughts run broadcast into'all possible conditions, like the wanderings of Munchausen, which never-theless he disclaims as the proper way to secure the object of these dreams. He begins with a sordid and quite commonplace dissertation on wives in general. A possible Peggy, for example, is intro-duced, who immediately fills up your house witli her plaguy relatives up to the fifth degree who overrun the household and nose into everything. There is the maiden aunt, and the father-in-law, and dear "mamma-in-law," and the dirty-nosed nephews, and the fidgety old uncle, who may have promised his fortune to his dear Peggy. But this brings up an un-comfortable thought. Peggy will talk then of her fortune and her purchases. Awful ! But infinitely worse if 'there is poverty in the home. What could Peggy not do if only she had the means. And then behold by a sudden transformation she is metamorphosed into a fright who comes down to break-fast with an awful mass of uncombed hair and such infernal slippers. Your coffee is cold. No matter You should have been up before. And then such chops and nauseating butter, but Peggy hopes you have better sense than to raise a storm THE MERCURY. 69 ab >ut a little rancid batter. Or Peggy may be rich and care nothing for you, or she may love you but drive you mad with her continual chatter on "divine Dante and fnnny Goldoni." But the fire .suddenly blazes out and darts up the wide chimney in a cheerful flame. You have done it. Here you are, settled in a sentimental vein and ready to take a wife. How fine it would be to have a sweet girl seated in that chair by your side. She knows and loves your moods. Your joys and sorrows arc hers too. She understands them all. Your friend dies ; she will take his place : Your mother, sister ; she will be your all. In sickness it is her hand that soothes, and her falling tears that chase away for a moment the chill of death. It is her voice that bids you hope, and when hope is gone that tells your virtues. But as dies the flame and only ashes remain, so desolation enters the soul. How you watch her step lest it lose its vigor ! With what joy you behold her blooming cheeks or with what anguish view the quickened breath ! Then death strikes and you lay to rest your little daughter. The blow is hard, but she comforts. Again the fell reaper comes and your boy, your idol, is gone. Tears, aye and more tears, for the wife over whom your whole love broods is failing. She revives and you hope, but the spark soon goes and with it her pure spirit. Then the undertaker and the smell of varnish, the darkened room and the empty fireside, and it is over. There are the bitter ashes of despair and from the heart goes up the cry to the God who tempers the wind to the shorn lamb, "Oh God, be kind." The whole thing is treated in a manner that he ascribes to the undertaker, a man who has done his work very nicely, very nicely indeed, but has no heart for your feeling. There is an incongruous mixing of varnish odors with the cry that goes like incense up to God. In the preface he speakes of an "honest journalist" who avows that the reverie could never have been written by a bachelor. On the contrary it is full of the spirit of bachelorhood, a mocking spirit of insincerity that hovers about heart-moving scenes but never enters into their inner essence. It is not that the catalogue is not complete nor that it is of the washy sentimental type, for the author is without doubt a keen and sharp-spoken writer. But he asks 7° ' THE MERCURY. us to use yards of cambric when in reality he strikes the notes heavily and not like the soft hand of the master "wandering over the idle keys." The second reverie—by a city grate—partakes much of the nature of a classical essay and is full of fine thoughts and rounded, ringing sentences. A garret in the city furnishes the setting for the reverie, a garret with loose casements and shattered roof, swept by the bitter wind of the night, a deso-late place indeed for the pouring forth of such home thoughts. Yet such is the mood of the reverie that one instinctively rec-ognizes that its author is a man born with a feeling for atmos-phere. There is a delightful quaintness and originality about it, together with a picturesqueness that is distinctive and rare. Neither would you imagine the author of such healthy senti-ment a semi-invalid in early life, troubled with pulnion.iry diseases of a serious character. In the first half the flirt and the coquette are treated un-der the simile of sea coal, which burns so flashily, now dying, now flaming up, yet ever consuming quickly. So is the flirt, a pretty play of expression and make-up but lacking inner warmth and steadiness. Quite a number of love allusions from literature are introduced, apparently as an antidote to Bulwer's Caxtons where first heart flights are described as "mere fancy-passages—a dalliance with the breezes of love, which pass and leave healthful heart appetite " Shakespeare through Desdemon. and Cordelia ; Homer through Hector and Andromache ; Milton through Adam and Eve, paint the pic-ture of a love that needs no sea coal beginnings. Then under the spell of a quest for the Magisterium, not of gold or youth, but of life, he introduces a category of authors with the times for which and the persons for whom they are best adapted. This is worthy of a high place in literature for its interpreta-tions are most excellent. For every condition there is some work, from the time when you feel at peace with all the world and can read such good fellows as Sterne and Fielding, to the time when the soul experiences the uplift of a higher power and can soar with Milton and Isaiah to the very gates of heaven. But alas for this sensibility struggling under povertv of diseases, and worse far when such a soul is cruelly dis- THE MERCURY. 7' turbed. Then the flaming passions make the boldest dread. But the flirt "She dwells in proud Venetian halls. Midst forms that breathe from the pictured walls." But too late she finds that "When the Lamp is shattered The light in the dust lies dead." The heart sheds forth its beams to thrill and guide the life but let the heart grow coarse and cold, its radiance gone, the poor soul goes struggling blindly through the world, concealing the darkness within by flashings without, and woe to him who enters such a life. With cold and hollow smiles, life's bliss away, where sure he thought to touch the harp and hear the pealing anthem swell the note of praise, now hears but empty and discordant cries. A noisy laugh and then—Oh well read one of Jeremiah Taylor's sermons, as Marvel says, and you will cure. Yours not the first nor last. Great pity that. A little different is the coquette who adds,spice to the wine but knows when to stop and does not ever play. Quite a vision ends the first part, spoiled by the noisy entrance of the maid with the anthracite, the fuel for the second half' of the reverie. The atmosphere of the second part is different. Not now do chasm and abyss yawn deep with varied cries and tumultuous sounds ringing up their steeps, but now to music as "from flutes and soft recorders" arise the hymns of peace, the sym-phonies of home. There is an allusion, very brief here, to the Miserere at Rome which is later brought out more fully. This whole section may be considered as summed up in the single paragraph descriptive of the Clitumnus from the Tus-can mountain to the sea. Such is the spirit of the scene, a steady soul that goes from love to more love, tender and true, with the veil of modesty and the cheering eye. Years chill not the heart but only made its beating the more plainly heard. And then life too gone, and now that it is gone it seems to have been of a thousand years. Is it gone really ? Its skirts seem hovering on the horizon—and then that other life, no longer feared. Age, Old Age, Death, Life. Four- dreams within a dream-. THE MERCURY. "Childish, childish." do you say? But is it true that the child is father to the man ? Then must the man not lose a single vision of those dear, dim, delightful remembrances, far off and remote of objects quick or dead—whether instinct with love and intelligence or but of the dead sod that once was to him the light of life. Blended then was being with all it saw and heard of the beautiful and grand, "but as the same creation with the grass, the flowers, the streams, the trees, the clouds, the sky, its days and nights, bound by one invisi-ble chain," and this was life. To me this reverie, while on the style of the first, is vastly different from it, entering into one and thrilling as the other cannot. But he spoils it by adding at the end a doubt whether a married man with his sentiment made real is as happy as a bachelor. A cigar furnishes the motive for the third reverie. Cigars were made to be lit of course and so—here is a coal. Puff, puff ! But the coal is dead. No hope of lighting a cigar with a dead coal and no more hope of firing a life from a cold heart. Here—this time the coal is alive and soon the cigar is well alight. Its first taste is like first love. The 3111110° then de-scribes this first love stage with all its machinery of sighs and jack knives and moonlight and what not. Oh, but it passes? Certainly. As the cigar goes out without puffing, so love dies from neglect. Perfidious Louise. Next time be more careful. This time try a wisp of paper. It will light again surely, unless it is burned entirely away. So the heart will kindle again, more slowly perhaps, but soon in a full glow that puts to shame the first blaze of boyhood. This time it is Nellie, such a bundle of heart and charms. This time also love is steadier, with no "Jacques-like" meditations in the forest, but with a steady admiration that fights its way through crabbed guardians and wild oats recollections and heartless previous plans, fired with a love that makes every day bright and every one pleasant and satisfactory. Clandestine meetings for a.while and then—separation. Strange how a cigar does require con-stant puffing. A letter or two, discovery, prohibition, dark-ness, business and—Nellie has really returned, married and introduces her husband and two children. A bachelor for a second time ! Well, well, and the cigar is clear out. There is still some left, so try again. The skein is not all THE MEKCURY. 73 spun. This portion opens with the exclamation, "I hate a match" and the same spirit is manifested all through. Matches are only for use after coals are dead and tapers exhausted. And so he describes a match, quite a proper affair too, where everything is serene and orderly and every one says, "What a splendid match." Oh yes, apparently. But soon the se-renity and fineness of it get on his nerves and he wanders back to the old bachelor quarters to spend the time. His only joy is in the boy who brightens his home. Then sickness and nurses and finally one tear, one bound of the heart and then —it is out, wholly burned away and cannot be lit again. This reverie is quite an entertaining one, giving a faithful picture of too many marriages, but it has no great depth. It is indeed a "symphony of palatable notes" but not a 'grand triumphal strain." At a single bound one rises from the plane of the third reverie into regions high and grand. In the third there is the feeling present that the author is moving inanimate pawns about, so as to present a series of plastic poses for the delec-tation or instruction of the world. In this last one however there is an intense personality pervading every page, a keen sympathy that amounts almost to a psychic bond between au-thor and reader. But although thus intensely personal there is no sense of a human soul indecently laid bare, even to us who hide our emotions in every way. The difference between the third and this can be expressed in the single word life. One instinctively feels that here is something real. Did we not know the massive type of man the author is we might easily believe a woman's hand had penned many of the lines, so effective are they in causing our understanding to turn sympathetic somersaults. In this reverie he transports one into the midst of a Spring day, under the loved oaks of a once cherished home and there, within sight of the wild stream and the old hills, with the pleasant music of the bluebirds ringing in his ears he falls into a trance—"to sleep, perchance to dream," and hears anew the "rustling of Time's curtains." He reaches here a height far ■beyond any to which he has hitherto attained in the book. His wonderful genius for word painting comes out strongly •and every sentiment, whether of joy or grief, is more natural 74 THE MKRCURY. and moving. But this reverie owes not a little of its power to the influence of Dickens. The latter in his "Christmas Car-ols" introduces a retrospection of life through the forms of ghostly messengers called Past. Present and Future, who transport the dreamer from place to place, reviewing and re-visiting old scenes and hearing the well-remembered voices speak again as in the past; In a similar way Marvel divides his reverie into cantos of morning—which is Past, noon— which is Present, and evening—which is Future, His style too is very similar but he uses a classical, historical, and geo-graphical vocabulary that is distinctly his own. It is morning and the same golden sunlight that has moved the lips of Meinnon to song through the ages is flooding the valley. Morning brings up the past, that rich dream land where the once familiar figures move as of yore. Through the veil they seem to move so softly and so sadly—Bella, the seven year old cousin, and the gentle mother with her sweet smile, and the tall, hard-faced uncle who pores over his books and—yes that is surely old Tray following there. What a noble fellow he is ! Oh, the familiar faces ! What a holy world they form ! Childhood is the time of impressions and in confirmation the author illustrates boyish sentiment by several leaves from the past. Love, Pride, and Grief are described in simple, touching words with an incident illustrative of each. Then before you are aware he whisks you away from the old home and the cheerful fireside into the scenes of a cloister life, if such be a fit word to describe the "tall, stately building," with its moldy basement and box-like rooms. Here centers the ex-perience that furnishes a comparison for all the future. "Old Crikey," and the long row of boys, and the pretty Jane and Sophia and the exhibition at the term's end all flit by like a moving panorama and ere you are aware "with three cheers for the old school'' it is only a memory. At this point quite suddenly he carries you over the sea into scenes of foreign lands. First there is the Fatherland with its Great Charter and Charing Cross, and little cottages where the hostess brings out the best pot of jelly, long stored in some out of the way place. Then there is Scotland with its Castle Stirling and that highland gem—Dunkeld. The sun still T.HK MERCURY. 75 'moulds to beauty many a mouldering tower" but in the semi-darkness the ivy looms portentous and the rising wind sighs wierdly about the turrets. With an odor of new-mown hay and a farewell look at old Devon he is "over hill and dale" until the Eternal City rises to the view, with its great dome, wrung from the people's blood looming huge and black against the Southern sky. Eurica, the fair, is the theme at Rome and the carnival and then—the Appenines, the wild hills with the sound of floating vesper bells and the shepherd's call. The Praeneste of Horace is disposed of in a few words and then back to Rome and Enrica. At this point occurs one of the choisest bits of de-scriptive writing in the work, an excellent example of the emotional style. One can almost feel the rise and fall of the' singer's voice in the words of the passage. " the sweet, mournful flow of the Miserere begins again—growing in force-and depth, till the whole chapel rings, and the balcony of the choir trembles ; then, it subsides again into the low, soft wail of a single voice—so prolonged—so tremulous, and so real, that the heart aches, and the tears start—for Christ is dead. Lingering yet, the wail dies not wholly, but just as it seemed expiring, it is caught up by another and stronger voice that carries if on, plaintive as ever—-nor does it stop with this— for just as you look for silence, three voices more begin the lament—sweet, touching, mournful voices—and bear it up to a full cry, when the whole choir catch its burden, and make the lament change into the wailing of a multitude—wild,, shrill, hoarse—with swift chants intervening, as if agony had given force to anguish. Then, sweetly, slowly, voice by voice,, note by note, the wailiugs sink into the low, tender moan of a single singer—faltering, tremulous, as if tears checked the utterance ; and swelling out, as if despair sustained it." There is one remarkable characteristic of the past and that is its lack of vain regret. To most writers the past is a time full of things that might have been, a rather sad and gloomy picture. To Marvel on the contrary it is a bright picture of joy and only once does he speak of the "might-have-been" side. And so the past is past and noontide's blaze is in the-zenith. He opens the Present with a beautiful sentence, "the Past 76 THE MERCURY. belongs to God ; the Present only is ours." The action in this section consists wholly of revisiting old scenes and is characterized by his most composite manner -the alliance of sagacious raillery and pathetic sentiment. First the early friends are looked up and some are fouucTgoue and some broken. The culmination conies in the news of the death of Isabel which strikes like a cyclone shock. Passing on he di-rects his unused steps to the old school, only to find the old faces gone, save a few whom some peculiarity of appearance of manner discloses. The familiar haunts too have changed and the fence with the long list of names carved on it is al-most rotted away. The hand of Fate has scattered the col-lege classmates in many a clime but the old place looks almost the same, and the same sort of sermon to the same sort of sin-ners, delivered in the same way, makes a paradox of that verse of Dr. Watt's which likens heaven to a never-ending Sabbath. The tender letters composing the packet of Isabel are treated with a most sympathetic understanding and the trembling hand trails off into the silence of eternity at last like the passing of a wandering cloud. This section is a fine ex-ample of the author's chief forte, the delineation of a moving-sorrow. And so "noon wanes and the shadows of evening lengthen upon the land." The evening is truly "a great land," with its swiftly mov-ing lights and shades and into this future land he paints in bold relief "the hopes and fears of all the years." It opens with joy, entwined with just enough disappointment to fully bring out its happy character. A chance meeting with Carry brings to a center all the love that has long been striving in the heart for exit. But a condition of legacy interferes until all is happily settled by the introduction of Enrica, the Roman girl, again. Carry is his now, his forever and the cup of hap-piness is full to the brim. Travel is sweet now for you see old scenes anew through her eyes. The magnificent Juras, Mount Blanc, Geneva, Venice, and Rome are visited and de-scribed. Then home with its sweet memories, a calm, joyful quietude most welcome to the spirit. The substantial, wide-spreading cottage soon holds new forms and childish voices ring out- in glee. Under this division there is some fine healthy writing. Home, peace and sanctity are reverently THE MERCURY. 77 described—and so we come to the time when "the sweeping outlines of life, that once lay before the vision—rolling into wide billows of years like easy lifts of a broad mountain range —now seem close packed together as with a Titan hand ; and you see only crowded, craggy heights like Alpine fastnesses, parted with glaciers of grief and leaking abundant tears." Marvel cannot end without one more portrayal of sorrow in the death of the boy Paul, and so at last life reaches the end of the lane up there. Toil where we may in mill, or mart, or home, our lives close at the end of the lane up there. In my discussion of the book I have aimed to give expres-sion to the thoughts and feelings that have arisen within me as I read its pages. Others will doubtless disagree and see beauty where I can 011I3- experience a feeling almost of aver-sion. To me the alternate reveries seem vastly different, the second and fourth soaring high above the others in excellence of expression and reality of feeling. In depicting them I have endeavored to use a style corresponding to my estimate of reverie, stilted and unnatural in the first, real and impressive in the second and fourth, and light and frothy in the third. With this I close a long but pleasant task. ANTHONY. THE VALUE OF ROUTINE. G. E. WOLF, '09. SURELY there is no one who is not at once impressed, on reading the Mosaic record, with' the regularity and system that characterized the beginning of things. Upon noting the regular course of action continuously adhered to in all creation, who is there that can fail to recognize that routine is indispensable to highest attainment ? Manufacturers, merchants—business men in all lines—have found it. absolutely necessary, in order that the wheels of in-dustry may be successfully propelled, to make use of routine. Schools and colleges and universities, in conducting the great work of education, find routine essential. But how few comparatively the individuals who, in their 78 THE MKRCURY. private life, have made routine the invaluable asset that it is. On the other hand, how many there are who are ready to cry out against it. People speak of it as stupefying ; and so it is, if we do not apprehend its real meaning ; but if we should realize that through it we can do more work in less time, and have more time left for the development of our1 highest selves, then we would at least refrain from speaking of it disparag-ingly. As we look about us, we can readily see that the efficient people in the world's work are those who know their business and do it promptly and perseveringly ; who when one piece of work is finished can direct their attention fully to the next item, and perform that. The efficient student is the one who has as nearly as possible a definite time for every portion of his work ; who knows beforehand what he is to do at four o'clock or. at eight o'clock. He it is that has most time for work and most time for recreation and play. Some educators say, "Do not make a child read until he finds the need of reading, and learns for his own pleasure. Do not enfeeble his mind by forcing it." There are many students—and some of us may be among the number—who declare that the}' cannot learn geometry or psychology or any branch that requires severe intellectual processes ; and, with-out giving the subject a fair test, they prefer to take up some-thing more congenial, again a case of deeming it unwise to enfeeble the mind by forcing it. But one might well answer, "Do not enfeeble the mind by letting it go undisciplined." Very probably some of us here have had our eyes opened to the selfishness of our position, assumed because from childhood we have had our own way far too much, and not one of us relishes the consequent embitterment. Away with" the senti-ment that prompts a father to deal too leniently or lavishly with his son ! Away with the enervating luxury of the pres-ent that many an educator of today uses to atone for the un-fortunate conditions of the past ! Far better would it be to get into a child as early as possible the habit of doing things, and to teach him, whatever he does, to do it just as well as he can ; to get him into a habit of thoroughness as an end in it-self, of thoroughness for its own sake. ' 'Soon he would find being thorough exceedingly interesting, and that over against THE MERCURY. 79 the pain of working when he may feel sluggish can be matched the pain of failure to do what ought to be done." We are all agreed, I believe, that industry is an element of effective human life, yet alas, how many of us yield to the temptation of allowing industry to become a mere matter of caprice? If we are disciplined to routine the chances are that . we will be freed from this temptation ; there will be no desire to wait for perfect mental and physical conditions before we settle down to the work we may have to do ; much loss, through indecision, would be averted, and the valuable ele-ment of time conserved. If routine is not forced upon us it were best for us to force it upon ourselves, or we shall almost certainly find ourselves in a shiftless condition. "I know a person," says Prof. James, "who will poke a fire, set chairs straight, pick dust specks from the floor, arrange his table, snatch up the newspaper, take down any book which catches his eye, trim his nails, waste the morning anyhow, in short, and all without premed-itation, simply because the one thing he ought to attend to is the preparation of a noon-day lesson in formal logic which he detests, anything but that !". It is really surprising how per-sistent men are in their endeavor to get away from the train-ing that fits them for life, how they strive to persuade them-selves that what they long to do is nobler and of greater worth than that which it is their duty to do, and which they must do if they expect suceess in what they long to do. It has been said that the great thing in all education is to make our nervous system our ally; instead of our enemy ; that it is to fund and capitalize our acquisitions and live at ease upon the interest of the fund ; and that to accomplish this we must turn over to habit (through routine) as early in life as possible as many useful actions as we can. "There is no more wretched human being than one in whom nothing is habitual but indecision." Some people say that the result of routine is precisely what we do not want, since it makes persons mechanical and robs them of that delight which should accompany a less exacting course. But there are others who think that our happiness is largely dependent upon our cheerful acceptance of routine— •on our refusal to assume, as so many of us do, that the daily 8o THE MERCURY. round of work and of duty is a sort of slavery. If we can pet ourselves to think of routine as an, invaluable "labor-saving invention," then we shall not despise it; we shall do more, we shall not fail to make use of it. %j^ t£&*^& H THE FLOWING TIBARE. Tune—"In the Shade of the Old Apple Tree." Dedicated to all Students of Pennsylvania College. GEORGE C. HENRY, '76. AIL ! Hail ! to thee our gentle loving mother, From near and far thy children greet thee true, Their hearts they ne'er can give unto another, They greet thee with the waving Orange and Blue. From westward where the Golden Gate is beaming, From eastward where old Plymouth Rock lies bare, From northland and from south with love's light gleaming, They cross with eager step the old Tibare. Chorus. Oh, pleasant :t was to be there By the side of the flowing Tibare ! Now we gather once more with the students of yore, And linger mid scenes rich and rare. Tho long are the years since the morn When as "grads" from thy rolls we were torn, It is pleasant to be in this good companie, By the side of the flowing Tibare. In boyhood's days when verdant, young and callow, We came upon this smiling campus green, Fond memory still those sweet, old days doth hallow And holds them steady in a light serene. For stretching miles of mountain, lake and river Can ne'er our souls from Alma Mater tear. Nor years nor cares effect our hearts to sever From days we spent along the old Tibare. THE MERCURY. 81 Three decades had thy history run unbroken Since first old Pennsylvania Hall stood white, While trained powers and high hopes were the token Thy sous took forth in moulded manhood's might. T'ward Susquehauna from Potomac's station War's tide in sixty-three had crept to thee ; Thy name is linkt forever with the nation Contending there for starry liberty. Farewell, dear Mother Gettysburg, thy finger Invites us oft to scenes once lightly trod ; With spirits loyal, faithful, fain we'd linger Who have made glad the City of our God. When on yon ridge our ways again will sever, Our gaze turns towards thy walls embowered so fair, Farewell, dear Alma Miter ! Live forever The days we spent along the old Tibare ! POE : WIZARD OR CHARLATAN. VI. WHICH? CONCLUSION. W. WlSSWBR HACKMAN, '08. _ T is with a sense of perturbation bordering well on appre-hension that I approach the obsequies of this venture. I would fain take refuge in Dr. Johnson's subterfuge and label this closing word : "The conclusion in which nothing is concluded." This custom of epiloguizing which is but a nice way of spelling apologizing, has fallen into sad neglect in these days of voluminous introductions and self-defensive prefaces ; so that it is with a genuine reluctance that I ap-proach a task which should have been discharged long ere this tardy date. Yet I embolden myself with the fond belief that, after all, most printed prefaces are written postscripts. Be that as it may, I cannot well pass by a last chance at self-vindication— at least to myself. As I contemplate the sub-stance and form of the five departments of this study, to which this is the conclusion, I am struck more and more by the vastness and difficulty of the task and the contrasting pettiness of the effort. There are extenuating circumstances. 82 THE MERCURY. Utter unpreparedness I will not admit ; for who that has given the matter of Poe any serious consideration and has sought after some solution has not been struck by the faucity of material, the uncertainty of data, and a general shrouding of mystery and conflicting rumor that—if they do not quite baffle research,—-at least seriously discourage it. ,• When I consider how really little we know about this singu-- lar figure in American letters, how distiuguishingly contra-dictory is that little we do know, how various are the inter-pretations put upon his literary phases, and how irreconcilable they all are, I well nigh dispair of ever arriving at any satis-factory or conclusive explanation. I vaguely foresaw this ; it has been driven home to me in a manner startling and ine-radicable as I have continued through these discussions. There was from the outset an alluring mystery about this man which courted investigation while it evaded examination. Following its beck it still, mirage like, hovers across the foot-hills. Shall we follow on ? It is for you to decide. Too long have we been gadding among the bones of Europe and the East; unearthing relics commiserating ourselves upon the baldness of our literary topography at home, not noting that whilst we have been pottering and snuffling among worm-eaten hierogliphs abroad our own geniuses have grown ancient in neglect. Let no one say with us commercial enterprise has throttled literary tradition, that we have no shrines without the market place. Let them turn to Poe ; a literary god wor-shiped abroad, weed-choked with neglect at home. It is well that we remember that here at our very doors awaits for so-lution a literary mystery as subtle and elusive as the most ab-struse unraveller could wish for. Nor will it long lie unattended : we are coming more and more to a realization that much of our literary devotions are clue our household gods ; there is a homeward tide of literary interest. Already are there unmistakable manifestations of this movement so long deferred. I joy to feel the throb of the new interest, to be in the van even if it be but as a dis-armed tenderfoot among the pioneers. I may at least escape by insignificance the arrows of the mighty and save my crest from envious scalping knife. This matter of Poe is not a trivial thing ; it is a problem grown beyond the idle tamper- THE MERCURY. 83 ing of school-boy essaying ; it is become a matter for men, men whose efforts may, I trust, end in greater certainty than mine. Nor shall I rest, nor I trust you, with this slight at-tempt at unravelling the mystery of the most unique perso-nality in our literary history. My efforts have been crude : forced to produce these arti-cles under circumstances uncongenial and averse ; they mani-fest too much the marks of a style immature, of over-hasty production, and a lack of that happy clearsightedness which may focus its vision on the very essence of a matter and point-ing clearly to the very kernal of difficulty say, "Lo ; here it is !" and you see. However, whatever accusations may be brought against me as to a certain overeffusiveness, overwording, or lack of charity, it will, I trust, be admitted that I have made a sincere, if not a happy effort, at solution. But what shall that solution be, what shall my decision be ? Poe ; wizard or char-latan? Which? I would gladly put off answer to some later and maturer time. The evidence is, I assure you, not all in-far from it ; whatever the decision be.it must be subject to a higher jurisdiction, which may confirm it and which may not. Yet in view of the evidence in hand we can arrive at some conclusion. I think we may safely say he deserved the title Wizard. I sincerely believe Poe was capable of a grandeur-he but gave glimpses of, but from the full attainment of which he was prevented by combinations of Fortune protract-ingly malignant : combinations often beyond Poe's control ; some of which lay in the law of birth, others in a faulting training from childhood, and again those arising from the pe-culiar conditions of unliterary contemporary America. For other misfortunes Poe himself was largely responsible—how much is hard to determine. Fate seemed ' to corrspire with the peculiar genius of his character to render his life a shrouded mystery. There is hardly a single other American man of letters concerning the personals of whose life we know so profoundly little ; and this is all the more striking when we consider the recency of his life, his lifelong association with men and women who should have been well able to preserve the details of a life spent—not in a hermitage—but among them. Even his death is a matter so dark and with details so uncertain that we might well take 84 THE MERCURY. refuge in the epitaph of that ancient leader whose bones may repose on lofty Horeb and say, "He was not." A life of tragedy, penury, and missappreciation, crammed with hunger and bitterness, the objects of his love blasted be-fore his eyes ; he is indeed not unworthy of our deepest sym-pathy. Let not however, pity bias judgment. I have en-deavored to try the case without prejudice ; let me conclude in like spirit. Middle courses are difficult, we are too apt to vap-orize into senseless and worthless eulogies or to descend to coxcombish c.rping. While I consider Poe capable of the greatest, I cannot but see that he, alas,'too often descended from the throne to the pedestal; to meanslight-of-handary ; or worse, to indulge in bursts of self-defiling mud flinging. Let us, however, judge a man by his best rather than his° worst. Read for yourself his works; following, if you please, the rough plan running through this series, and when you have done this ask yourself, is this man sincere? Clever he un-doubtedly is, but is he great, large ? Is his assumption of immen-sity, depth, intensity and mysticism part and parcel of a lit-erary genius of the highest and truest order of a Wizard, or the mere concealing skirts of a Charlatan wherewith to be-dazzle the common herd ? That it is the latter I 'can hardly admit. That a power which descends to turn water to wine may therefore not raise the dead is as logical an argument as to assert that Charlatanism or even buffoonery disproves Wiz-ardry, though I do admit it does discredit and in a measure degrade it. Thus I leave the problem with you. After all each should labor on his own conclusions. Predigested food is no doubt of service to invalids ; but if generally indulged in future ages should no doubt be left sans dents—a sad predicament for those who would feed direct from the tree ! I forthwith surrender Poe to the gentle mercies of your several judgments. As to a certain uncertainty in the last article concerning Poe's acquaintanceship with Leibnitz I beg to offer the follow-ing statement : Poe was conversant with the philosophy not only of Leibnitz and Plato, but with the whole Aristotelian and modern schools of philosophy and metaphysics, but his attitudes are disturbingly ecpaivocal. The subject is too in-tricate for discussion here. THE MERCURY. 85 THE KING'S RESOURCES. HESSE, '09. J7T THRONE is not the requisite of royalty. A king is JTA. not made by either crowns or the exigencies of states-men. A king is not made at all, but like the poet and the artist, he is born. Men crowned have been puppets ; men uncrowned have made the path over which the progress of the race has advanced. To call Chas. I a king and Cromwell a commoner is a paradox. A king is one who can, and the es-sence of royalty is will and character. To be royal of soul is to be king, whether the brow wears a diadem or is crowned with the grime of toil. It is quality of soul that determines a man's worth. The field of the king's activity is no longer the Garden of Eden, but the great broad earth. Here are the monuments of his striving, here are his unlimited resources, here is he master of bird and beast and every living thing. Here, too, does his will dominate nature, and he uses her forces as his servants. The warm sunlight flows in life-giving streams upon the earth, and she, in turn, responds to man's industrial touch. Great forests fall to serve him who is overlord of the wild beasts, they so long stood in grandeur to protect. Iron and coal, the king finds securely deposited in great mountains. The rich soil yields grain in abundance, and delicious fruits hang on bending bough. The rain falleth upon the just and unjust :ilike, for providence in no way discriminates. Even the rich fool has unlimited scope for his avarice, and can be thwarted in his purpose only by a power superior to nature. The amassing and centralization of resources makes kings of common men, kings who stamp their likeness on the char-acter of the people, and who perform Herculean projects, the building of colossal structures, or the marching with invincible forces against a hostile people. Does not the history of na-tions disclose men whose rank and power were vested in phys-ical force ? Do we not gaze in wonder at the sumptuous pal-aces of oriental sovereigns, and almost discredit the fact that an army consisting of millions was at the disposal of a Xerxes ? But, we have other examples of concentrated power in the 86 THE MERCURY. hands of military heroes. Cseser and Bonaparte rose to the dizzy height of renown, but, where are they now ? Down the well trodden path of fame they took their way, leaving but the ruins of great Empires, the destruction of the kings' ac-cumulations. However, by man's abuse the supply is not ex-hausted. Land and sea, mountain, plain, and forest yield an ever increasing and richer bounty. But over and above all this there exists another power that moves and actuates all truly kingly men, a power that limits the avaricious use of material and renders each and every man a true king in-a loftier and grander sense. Nor does history lack numerous instances which paint true pictures of this grander kingship. "The golden age of Pericles," reveals the character of the man and his people. Aspiring to the sublime in art, and fostering true sentiments of patriotism, they gained a wealth and perfection that has never been surpassed. Even the powerful Artaxerxes did not, in defiance to that little kingdom, dare to spread a single sail upon the waves of the blue iEgean. Leonidas is today admired by everyone whose heart burns with a spark of true patriotism, for he possessed that which is the prime requisite of all earthly power, a sublime and unflinch-ing fidelity to honest conviction and known duty. Moses showed these qualities by following with simple faith the voice of the great "I Am." During his forty years of training for a great work,' all nature was his teacher. Out on the rugged hilltops he heard the bleating of sheep and the song of birds, and through deep meditation discerned the meaning of the voice that spoke out of the burning bush. Gideon in a no less degree displayed resourceful ability. Was it other than confidence in a great cause that gave him heart to advance with the noble three hundred ? Could selfish instinct, backed only by physical power, ever have impelled a warrior to perform deeds so great ? No, the hand of the Un-seen consecrates to great tasks only those who can draw from resources greater than mere natural power. It is the realm within the man that furnishes this power, power that is in-finitely greater than the power of alliance with many nations. It has been a law through all the ages that the stronger are to rule the weak. But wherein lies this strength ? What THE MEKCURY. 87 constitutes the field of resources from which this power comes? While no two men can enjoy exactly the same en-vironments and achieve the same degree of success along a certain line there is the possibility of developing one, five, or ten talents, and a record is kept, for our growth in personality marks the efforts and conquests of the inner man. In this realm, high mountains, deep waters and pleasant pastures also lie before the king. They, and all they contain belong ex-clusively to him who cares'to conquer. David, the shepherd boy, was such a conqueror. Living the life of a shepherd, he early learned to play euchautingly upon the harp and to use with dexterous accuracy the shep-herd's sling And, with all accomplishments, acquired ascend-ency over self. With that perfect armor, a firm and abiding religious faith, he courageously and fearlessly faced the wiles of the desert, and as a mere youth dared to meet in single combat one who held at bay the entire army of King Saul. Where can you find a more noble example of true kingship? To him the earth yielded abundantly, and at no time did he oppress his people. While natural blessings were his, he failed not to conquer the dominion of his inner life, the most re-sourceful of all realms. Over the portal of the temple at Delphi the oracle was written, "Know Thyself," or,'in other words, so subjugate and rule thy faculties, that every function of self may become as familiar as the scenes of thy native land. This is wisdom at its highest ! It was through this acquaintance of self and its consequent self-mastery that the masters of the ages wrought this work— the sculptor, the painter, the musician—Phidias, Michaelang-elo, and Mozart. Every feeling and emotion of the great musician, developed into a vivid conception, was, after long years of persistent trial, given form. He, taking advantage of the physical realm, applied the natural laws of harmonious sound and left to the world that which is rightfully classed with the true and beautiful. As for Michaelangelo, we could as easily think of the sun sinking in the west hi the evening, never to rise in the east in the morning, as to think of his life's work ever losing its power. The aesthetic sense of all men is touched by the ^grandeur of the Olympic Zeus, but 88 THE MERCURY. Phidias alone reaped the triumph of personal struggle, triumph of which he left a record in gold, ivory, ebony and'precious stones. These men, together with countless others wrought their life's work in that light that cometh not from the natural sun. They, in so far as man's impeding earthly nature could be sub-dued, achieved permanent glory. But, in our admiration for these, can we evade the pitiful sight of other countless mortals gathering wood, hay and stubble, and striving to gain permanent joy from mother earth alone ? To perform a work that will live is indeed a noble ideal, but to rear colossal pyramids is to tell the simple story of material wealth. How tragic the story of Alexander the Great ! It presents us a man in profoundest humiliation. He wept for more worlds to conquer, but neglected the conquest of that most resourceful field, a conquest that would have made his kingship everlasting—the conquest of self. But the world has moved forward. Today the possibilities of what will come to the king are limited only by his willing-ness to loose self in the quest of knowledge of self and of things. The world of science and art.lies before him. It is for him to go up and possess the land and acquire thereby an immortal throne. When the heart of the king beats in harmony with the pur-pose of the Unseen Power, then will the work of his hand and mind abide across the revolving centuries. But these pur-poses of the Unseen Power make for righteousness and sur-vive through inordinate ambition, like any other evil thing, "Wounded, writhes in pain and dies among his worshipers/" Oh, that the king could more fully realize the vastness of the two realms that lie before him, realms unlimited in their resources, boundless in their prospective possibilities, inestim-able in the measure of bliss which they afford the earth in its fullness and God in His Omnipotence. THE MERCURY. OPHELIA AND HER MAID AFTER THE PLAY. (An hitherto unpublished scene from Hamlet.) GEO. W. KESSLER, '08. A ROOM IN POEONIUS' PALACE. ENTER OPHELIA. OPH.—Ala's-, poor world, what flower hast thou blighted ! A blossom so sweet, with color fresh and trim. How, as twinkling heaven by gaudy sun unlighted Hast scattered sweet reason that didst abide in him. Rich thoughts dwelling in his fervid brain, Like deep-sweet music flowed forth anew ; Till strongest passion blasting them in twain As stars ashamed of day, themselves withdrew. The fair sun illumines earth with whitest light, Yet in my soul dwells darkest night. Where now shall heart seek consolation, Resting once on trusty word Of lip's sweet treasured information Eucompass'd by wisdom's worthy lord. ENTER MAID. How now, world's precious comforter, Hast from the play thou lately come, Or didst to his recent illness minster And 'company the good queen at home? Maid.—O misery on't ! the wise gods seal mine eyes ; The king some violent passion doth endure. He hath onset Hamlet with two spies, To dispel his madness with some dreadful cure. Oph.—I fear disaster for this play's suggestion In the king's mind was deep imprinted ; His distempered act to quick commission, Thus provert wrath in him full vented. Passing strange he became afflicted, At Gonzago's death in stage set garden, As of foul murder he were convicted. Maid.—Thou shouldst have seen him harden ! 9°. THE MERCURY. Opli.—Such behavior did the king misfit, And for Hamlet it were worse yet That he did furnish-cause. Maid.—Thoughtst thou not his madness impert, When in thy lap Hamlet would have lain, Throwing himself before thee in the court ? Oph.—His mind was sadly overwrought In the court today. I would believe some fearless plot He wove into the play. Maid.—Be it so, if thou wilt so have it. Oph.—Saw you my lord after the play ! Maid.—No, my lady, 'cept as he did willfully sit With young Horatio, intent upon delay. Oph.—Get thee hence,— Convey this letter to the palace And wait answer to its contents. Maid.—Ay, Ay, most worthily, your grace. [Exit .Maid.] Oph.—Oh Prince Hamlet, heed this warning now ! Let heart be merciful, and too severe. Frown'st not with sorely troubled brow, When this, mine message, fall 'pon thine ear. The image I loved to view in thee, And for lack of trust neglect to say That thou hast all in all of me. In mine own love's strength, seems to decay. Me thinks my mind from sympathy Raves mad like't in thee doth live ; Wild upturned is reason's quality Vaiu beckoning Hamlet love to give. The sparks of fire lend thought no light, Madly toss'd by brain—sick rude desire, As reason's last flame turns darkest night. Avast! Mine eyes are blurred, my brain doth tire f [Exit Ophelia, deranged.} THE MERCURY. 91 AMERICA'S IMMIGRATION QUESTION. E. E. SNYDER, '09. al RUTHFULLY has it been said, that, "Westward the star of empire takes its way.'' Just as truthfully may we say, "Westward flows the tide of immigration." With a continually increasing swell, it casts its burden upon our shores in such great numbers that they almost threaten to engulf us. The number of immigrants is steadily and rap-idly increasing. From 1820 to 1850, the number was less, than 2 1-2 millions. The decade from 1890 to 1900 saw 5 1-4 millions coming into our country and more than five millions have come during the last six years, 1906 alone having fur-nished over one million. Thus they continue to come in ever-increasing numbers, filling our mines, slums and manufactur-ing establishments ; seeking homes, freedom and wealth ; and bringing with them ignorance, debauchery and crime, until the American may well say with anxious inquiry, what are we to do with them? Coincident with the westward course of the immigrant is the eastward movement of the center of emigration. From 1820 to i860 more than 50 per cent, of our immigrants came from the British Isles, while another 40 per cent, came from Scandinavia, Germany and France. The ma-jority of these people were near kin to the Americans. They compared favorably with them in general culture ; in eco-nomic efficiency and in moral and religious training. The process of assimilation was rapid and in a few years they be-came well qualified citizens of U. S. The great majority of the present immigrants are from Southeastern Europe, from Italy, Austria Hungary and South-ern Russia. Their native tongue is quite different from ours. Their economic efficiency is low and their moral and religious training is far below the American standard. Forty percent, of them are illiterate ; only two per cent are professional men whilst nine per cent represents the proportion of skilled labor-ers. This means that ninety per cent of this vast horde, pour ing into our social organism, represents a social poison of vile, uncultured and uncouth humanity. The gap between these people and the true American is great. They represent classes in culture and progress which are in glaring contrast to our 92 THE MERCURY. American spirit. Their modes of life are wholly unlike ours, and their aims and ideals are entirely different. Hence the process of assimilation is necessarily slow and difficult. These immigrants land in New York with an average of $16 per capita. They are unable to get far from port even if they should desire to do so, but very few desire it. Consequently they pour in large numbers into our great industrial centers ; into the states of New York, New Jersey, Massachusetts, Con-necticut, Rhode Island and Pennsylvania. The percentage of foreigners in our country has increased less than one per cent, during the last half century, yet in the above named States, they comprise one-fourth of the entire population. In our own State today there are more than two million foreigners com-pared with one million in 1900. And of these two million, less than one per cent, are professional men and almost fifty per cent of them are illiterate. More than this, they settle in colonies or groups and thus certain portions of the country are completely controlled by them, while others have compar-atively few. They flood our mining districts in great num-bers. In many of our mining towns eighty per cent, of the population are foreigners. And their manner of life is so dif-ferent that few indeed are the Americans who care to remain in a colony of "Hunkies" or "Ikies." In their native homes they are clean and healthy. On board ship they acquire hab-its of filth and slovenliness. This mode of living clings to them, requiring many, many years of residence here before they become clean, respectable, desirable citizens. Why do they come, we ask, and the answer is varied and difficult. The prime cause is probably an economic one. Two-thirds of our immigrants come from farming communities. Their average wage is only about one-fourth what they can earn in our country ; their hours are longer and the work is more difficult. Again, as in the case of the Russian Jew, they come seeking freedom from the political oppression and unjust taxation of their own land. Some, especially the Austrians and Germans, come to escape the enforced military service de-manded by their respective governments. Many are ambitious and seek a country where life holds greater opportunities ; where labor is better rewarded ; and where caste and class are unknown. And a great number, especially the poor, the ig- THE MERCURY. 93 norant, and the weak are induced to come to this land of wealth and promise by the catching advertisements of the various steamship companies. Unfortunately the character of the immigrants, as a class, has a very dark side. As has already been stated, the ma-jority are low-born and illiterate. Wherever you find the im-migrant, especially the Slav, the Italian and the Lithunian, you find also saloons in great numbers ; in some instances one for every fifteen electors. Many of the immigrants spend al-most theii entire earnings for drink, reserving just what is necessary for a bare living. Beer and whiskey are to them what tea and coffee are to the American. Escaping from the restraints of the strict and rigid laws to which they were for-merly subjected, they, by continual use of intoxicants, sink into a condition that is akin to savagery. Again they are un-clean. Their houses are mere hovels. They are herded to-gether in great numbers, sometimes as many as twenty or thirty in one small shanty. They know nothing of sanitary conditions and the foul air and stench arising from such sur-roundings are sickening. A family will often have as many as fifteen boarders, and such homes are often, yea far too often, filled with scenes of drunkenness, profanity, and deeper vices. It is impossible for children born and reared amid such surroundings to take advantage of the opportunities for moral and physical development which America offers to every child. Thirty-five percent of the children die before they are five years old and decency and morality are impossible in such homes. But we would not describe the immigrant as entirely bad. He has, along with his numerous objectionable qualities, many commendable traits. With some exceptions he comes to us in the prime of life, having a strong healthy body, com-paratively free from disease. Physically, he is the peer, if not the superior of our average American. These people are sturdy, ambitious and brave. They willingly go into our mines, our furnaces, our subways and our ditches, regardless of the fact that daily they see one or more of their fellow-workers crushed, burned or mangled. True part of this may come from their ignorance and their stolid natural tempera-ment, but not all. They freely do the work that the respect- 94 THE MERCURY. able American will not touch and thus become a necessity in some departments of industry'. Then, too, it must be ob-served, that the immigrant as a class loves his home and family and seeks earnestly to provide and care for them. The)' send their children to school and ardently desire to see them educated that they may be able to start in life on a higher plane than their parents. The young especially study the customs and fashions of the Americans and seldom does it require more than the life of one generation to completely Americanize them. They will undergo hardships which the American could not endure. They will persevere, where we would be hopelessly discouraged. But all these traits com-mendable though they may be are overshadowed by the de-generating tendencies of the immigrant. Thus we haye portrayed the immigrant as facts and statis-tics have shown him. Crowding into our country they come in astounding numbers. They cluster together in"colonies for economy and company. They bear many noble and com-mendable traits, yet these are completely obscured by their many vices and faults. Their children fill our schools. Their men our streets, saloons and prisons. By their labor they have aided wonderfully in our industrial and commercial develop-ment. In the past, thousands of them have become good citi-zens. Thousands will doubtless become such in the future. Yet we have not and cannot answer the question, what must lie done with the immigrant ? Can we as a nation stand the strain ? Can our great industrial states assimilate them when they already form one-fourth of the population. Can we, a nation whose safety lies in the average integrity and intelli-gence of its citizens, continue to progress with the phenom-enal strides that have characterized our past, under such an incubus? Will we be able to maintain our pure and noble principles of government, founded on the freedom and equality of man, while Europe pours upon us, her ever increasing tor-rent of criminals and illiterates ? This is our question True, the wealth of the world is in our hands and her pro-ducts lie in profusion about our feet. Our hills and valleys teem with schools and colleges. Our country abounds in churches and Christian institutions. Our national spirit has fostered altruistic principles. On every side we find noble men and women, who are willing to sacrifice time and wealth, and even life, if necessary, to uplift their fellowman. All these have done and are doing a mighty work. But can even they assure us of the future. The question before us is ap-palling. National welfare, yes even national existence may depend on our answer. What shall it be? what will it be? T H E H[RCURY Entered at the Fostoffice nt Gettysburg as second-clans Mutter. VOL. XV GETTYSBURG, PA., MAY 1907 No. 3 Editor in-Chief EDMUND L. MANGES, '08 Exchange Editor ROBERT W. MICHAEL, '08 Business Manager HENRY M. BOWER, '08 Ass't Bus. Managers LESLIE L. TAYLOR, '09 CHARLES L. KOPP, '09 Assistant Editor MARKLEY G. ALBRIGHT, '08 Associate Editors PAUL E. BLOOMHARTM'09 E. E. SNYDER, '09 Advisory Hoard PROF. .1. A. HIMES, LITT.D PROP. G. D. STAHLEY, M.D. PROF. J. W. RICHARD, D.D. Published each month, from October to June inclusive, by the joint literary societies of Pennsnaylvia (Gettysburg') College. Subscription price, one dollar a year in advance ; single copies 15 cents. Notice to discontinue sending THE MERCURY to any address must be accompanied by all arrearages. Students, Professors and Alumni are cordially invited to contri-bute. All subscriptions and business matter should be addressed to the Business Manager. Articles for publication should be addressed to the Editor. Address THE MERCURY, GETTYSBURG, PA. EDITORIALS. WE wish to call particular at-tention to the coilege song in this issue of our publication. It is very often the case that by chance happenings we are forcibly reminded of some long felt need. This song comes to us as a very forcible reminder, not necessarily, of a need but of a branch of college activity in which we are sadly lacking. There are few colleges these days which do not have their book of college songs, yet we 96 THE MERCURY. must; say that we are one of the few. We more than hold our own among the colleges in other things, why not equal if not surpass in this too ? This fact does not prove that Gettysburg students lack col-lege spirit. To find the cause or the reason why we do not have such a book is a difficult task. We may attribute it partly to indifference. There is great wealth of talent among the various students, so why not become active and make this condition better. What few songs we have now, it is necessary to say, are of a high type and the only fault there is to be found is that they are not sung frequently enough. This latest song is an excellent one and we could in no other way show our kind appreciation of the author's effort than by singing it frequently. EXCHANGES. With our Exchanges this month came the advent of Spring, and it is evident in many of the Exchanges as the subject of this vernal season occupies quite a little space. "The Havefordian" as a whole is very good. The article entitled, "When the Colonel Lost" deserves special mention. It is well composed, and although the plot is simple, yet it is interesting. F ooling iu the study-room. L ate for classes. U nnecessary excuses. ~ N othing prepared. K now no lessons.—Ex. The MERCURY bids farewell to th^e retiring staff of the Al-bright Bulletin. Much credit is due the editors for the ad-vancement of the Bulletin. Character and Characteristics of Robert Burns as Reflected in his Poetry, advances its stand-ards still further. The Touchstone comes to our desk a welcome guest with its goodly number of fine articles. Uncle Hi's Wisdom is characteristic of "David Harum," with his coy ways and apt applications of homely principles. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. Fl/fJNTTUFiE Mattresses, Bed Springs, Iron Beds, Picture Frames, Repair Work done promptly. Under-taking a specialty. - Telephone No. 97. IE3:_ ZB_ Bender, 37 Baltimore St., Getty*burg-9 Pa THE WINDSOR HOTFX 1217-2 FILBERT ST., PHILADELPHIA. HEADQUARTERS FOR STUDENTS THOROUGHLY RENOVATED, REFURNISHED, AND REMODELED. FKANK M XCHEIBLEY, Manas r. Graduate of Lafayette College 1898- D. A. Kuppo I. E. Enterline. THE "R k I" STORE 36 Baltimore Street, Next Citizens' Trust Company, GETTYSBURG, PA. SUNDAY SCHOOL LESSON HELPS AND SUPPLIES, P. ANSTADT & SONS, Publishers, Book and Job Printina of all Kinds tortte for Prices. YOR K, PA, PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. Conklin's Self- 0011 Filling F Ol For busy people. No bother. Tills itself. Cleans itself. No dropper. Nothing to take apart. Nothing to spill. A dip in ink, a touch of thumb to nickel cres-cent and the pen is full, ready to write. All the best dealers everywhere— Stationers, Druggists, Jewelers—handle the Conklin Pen or can supply it if you in-sist upon having it. Costs no more than other fountain pens of best grade. 100 styles and sizes to select from shown in our catalog furnished free upon request. Any make or style of fountain pen repaired promptly. USE COIVKLHV PEN CO. 514-516-518 Jefferson Ave., Toledo, Ohio. Sole Manufacturers Conklin Self-Filling Fen PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS EMILZ0THECOLk^tEM3 ENGRAVER, DESIGNER, AND MANUFACTURING JEWELER 722 Chestnut St, Phila. SPECIALTIES : MASONIC MARKS, SOCIETY BADGES, COLLEGE BUTTONS, PINS, SCARF PINS, STICK PINS AND ATHLETIC PRIZES. All Goods •rdered through G. F. Kieffer, CHARLES S. MUMRER. IH. I hl.lt MJV FTTR1TXTT7RE, PICTURE FRAMES OF ALL SORTS REPAIR WORK DONE PROMPTLY I WILL ALSO BUY OR EXCHANGE ANY SECOND-HAND FURNITURE NO. 4 CKAMBERSBURG STREET, GETTYSBURG, PA. D. J. SWARTZ, DEALER IN COUNTRY PRODUCE, GROCERIES, CIGARS AND TOBACCO. GETTYSBURG. SHOES REPAIRED 115 Baltimore St., near Court House GOOD WORK GUARANTEED. -IS-J. I MUMPER Your Photographer ? If not, why not? 41 BALTIMORE ST , GETTYSBURG, PA. 8EFT0N I FLEMMING'S LIVERY, Baltimore Street, First Square, Gettysburg, Pa. Competent Guides tor all parts of the Batilefi.-ld. Arrange-ment* by telegram or !■ tter Lock Bex 257. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. HENRY KALBFLE1SCH new line of all grades of CIGAKS, PIPESJOBACCOS, &C. Pool Parlors in Connection. Chambersburg St., Two doors above Eagle Hotel. GETTYSBURG . The Most Popular College Songs A "welcome gift in any borne. The Most Popular College Songs - - $ .50 50 New College Songs - .50 Songs of ALL the Colleges . . - 1.50 Songs of the WESTERN Colleges - . 1.25 Songs of the EASTERN Colleges - . 1.25 SCHOOL Songs with COLLEGE Flavor . .50 Songs of the Flag and Nation ,50 100 New Kindergarten Songs . 1.00 New Songs for College Glee Clubs . . .60 New Songs for Male Quartets . .50 Songs of the University of Pennsylvania - 1.50 Songs of the University of Michigan - - 1.25 Songs of Washington and Jefferson College - 1.25 Songs of Haverford College - 1.25 New Songs and Anthems for Church Quartets, (Eleven Numbers) each .10 to .30 HINDS, NOBLE & ELDREDGE, Publishers 31-33 35 West 1 5th St. New York City , COMPILER IMPRINT ON JOB WORK MEANS TASTY WORE CAREFULLY DONE. MENU CARDS, WINDOW POSTERS. DANCE CARDS LETTER HEADS, ENVELOPES, TICKETS, Programs of all kinds. Everything the College Man wants in Paper and Ink. Specially designed work. .Latest Effects in Paper, done in Colors along lines of College Men's Associations. Catalog and Book work. The Gettysburg Compiler will keep old and new students in touch with town and college life.

Issue 3.5 of the Review for Religious, 1944. ; Review :for Religious SEPTEMBI~R 15, 1944 Forestalling Pains of Purgatory . Clarence McAu]|ffe. A#ostolate of the Cross . Robert S. Bten ¯ Sanity and Sa ,nctity . G. Augu, sfine Ellard ~Bur~s~r General of Religious Institute . Adam C. Ellis. ~ Are You Sbrry for Your Sins? . Gerald Kelly~ I~ooks Receiged Communlca÷ions Questions Answered~ D~ci~ions of the Hbly See NUMBER-5 " REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~ VOI£.UME III ;EPTEMBER 15, 1944 NUMBER CONTENTS FORESTALLING THE PAINS OF PURGATORY-- Clarence McAulit~e, S. 3 .-. ~. 289 BOOKS RECEIVED ',. " 296 THE APOSTOLATE OF THE CROSS Robert B. Eiten, S.J. 297 DECISIONS OF THE HOLY S~E OF INTEREST TO RELIGIDUS366 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . 306 SANITY AND SANCTITY--G. Augustine Ellard, S.J . 307 BOOKLETS ON VOCATIONS . 325 COMMUNICATIONS (On Retreats) . , . 326- THE'. BURSAR GENERAL OF A RELIGIOUS INSTITUTEm Ndam C. Ellis, S.J . 329 , ARE YOU SORRY FOR,,YOUR SINS? Gerald Kelly, S.3 ~.3.3.5. BOOKLETS . 348 BOOK REVIEWS (Edited by Clement DeMuth, S.J.)-- St. Dominic and His Work: Father Tim; The General Who Rebuilt the Jesuits; My Father's Will; A Key to Happiness; The Eternal Priesthood; An ~Introduction to Philosophy; JummariUm Theologiae Moralis ~. 349 QUESTIONS AND ANSW'ERSm 30. Entrance into Novitiate after lapse from Faith .". 357 31. Meaning of "Patrimony" . . 357 32. Excommunicated Persons and Sunday Mass . 35~ 33. Asking Pardon after an Offense . 359' *" 34. Quality of Benediction Candles . 360 35. Position of Candles and Flowers on Altar . 360~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, September, 1944. Vol. III, No. 5. Published bi-monthly: January, March, May, July, September, and November at the College Press, 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas, by St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approbation. Entered as second class matter January 15, 1942, at the Post Office, Topeka, Kansas, under the act of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Adam C. Ellis, S.3., G. Augustine Ellard, S.J., Gerald Kel!y, S.3. Copy?ight~ 1944, by Adam C. Ellis. Permission is hereby granted for quotation.s of reas, onable length,: provided due credit be given this review and the author. Subscription price: 2 dollars a year. Printed in U.S.A. Before writing ,to us, please consult notice on inside back cover. '-~i'~Y GIVING the rock a double strike in order to'prodh(e, v;'ater for the Israelites._'(Numbers 20:11, !2), Moses '~ ~oPAINS OF PURG.~TORY "~" :~. .~, "~Granted these cioOnn d.i.t S, .how~ can e levee ,lm " un- -t~.in21of ~emporaLlSunishment thai: ~asts ,its shado.w upon.,, our lives? First of all, by indulgences. These favors granted ~-" by~.~he-Church aim directly at'the deletion of temporMpuia ishment. A ~in~le ple.nary in.d, ulgence, gained by one who . has,had all his venial sins forgiven, annihilates ,at once eirery ~.-, l~it'of this punishment, r~gar~lless of the ~iumber or grav{ty "of his past offenses. As ~as-pointed out by, Father-Thomas A."~O'.Connbi; ~S.J:, in this RI~VIEW (November, 1942,. ":PP" 3-82~389)~dvery religious ~and priest may: easily gain five such plenary in~dulgen~es every day, ~6qcever, even ~if we n~eglect these opportunities, we. 'very likely ~gain~,~ucfi ~pl~nary indu~.gences perio~dically during the year, for in-~ stance, a~ yhe. c0nclusion.0f our annual retreat and, during .the, Forty Hours. If some past venial sin still lingers on o~r soul so ~;that the. plenary indulgence cannot produce its full eit'ect~, it nevertheless remits a part o,f our t~mporal punish-ment. . Besides plenary indulgences, all of us gain many paifial one~; especi~alfy by~ use. of aspiratiofis. These. accord.i.ng to ;their-designated value may i~emove hs mu~h temporal p.u~n-i~ shrrient as was taken away by fifty dr a hundred or five "hundred days of rigorous canonical pen.ance in the early ChurcH'.° When we reflect h6w, severethese penances:w~ere,. ' W~ must admitthat an indulgence, even of fifty days, must :' make,deVastating inroads on our sinful debt. But indulgences are not the. only-means~at our disposal. t~v~ry _fime.~ tha~t'we approach "the Sacrament'of Pen ask .God., fo~? many other ~pirittial bles,~ings: in i]Sra.y~ers. In the same+ way we may ask this fiivor+and it ;will be'granted. -- ~Finally, we should remember that ~ome other living d> person may be offering satisfaction for us'and so b~ reducing ~" our t~emporal punishment. I~ is impossible, of course; for_. Other p~ople t6 apply their indulgences for us. It is also impossible, for them to transfer to Us the au~om~tic.r~emoval .of tempora! punishment proceeding from their assistance at ~Ma~ss; their;reception of the Sacraments of Penanc.e, and Of Extreme Unction.~ But they may give us the satisfactory ~ 'valge _of their unsough'~ suffe_ring~, of" their "prayers, fasting; almsde~ds and Other Works of piety,", and of all theit other good a~tions,of each day~ We on our part can ~\i-'~e~r~Srm.an act of charity by surrendering the Value ~f so.me of Our own satisfactory works for the °benefit of others.~" " Faced by such an array Of evidence,_, we must co~ncludi~- Ythat.it is quite possible for any ~onsdcrated' .person to die ¯ with all .temporal punish~ment for past' forgiven sins removed. ' In fadt~, it is highlyprobable that many religious' ~do ~o die. It is even likely, that many religious contribute generously-to the~ spiritual treasury of the Church by ~ acquiring much 'more expiatory wealth thin they them: o selves need. These thoughts should non-induce;any remiss-ne~ ss on ou~r-part in ou'r efforts, to gain such wealth, since we do nbt know precisely the size of our sinful.debt. In addi-~ ~. tion, every one of the satisfactory works mentioried also has a-nieritorious aspect, s~o that their perfo~rmance necks_-." sar~ily results-in a greater degree of glory in heaven. Ma,y we then say that rn'ost~ consecrated .persons nearer dday in purgatory at all? Not necessarily. The ~videhce~. ,adduced in this article sirhp!y indicates that Such persons; ;~can escape purgatory.as far as their temp.oral debt for past -~ _ 295 CLARENCE MC ULIFFE °~ ~ forgiven iins is conc~rned~ -But.pu'rgatory. may;open.its doors on ariother score. We may. have on our souls a~ i:leath;~ .many venial sins. ~hat have never been-forgivdn. Sii~cetheir ~uilt yet remain's, tiaeir temporabtSuni'shment will havei6 be,undergone in purgatory,, because temporal punishment may.never be, ex.piated previous to the remission of guilt. N~vertheless, solid evidence could be adduced to prove that ~religious can die° with every t~ace, of sinffil guilt rembved so. that they would enter with6ut any delay into the of heaven. ¯Book~ Received (From dune ZO to August~ 20) B. HERDER BOOK CO. St. LoUis. T~d Philosopht, l of-St. Thomas Aquinas. By Hans Meyer. T~anslated ~b th~ Reverend Frederic Eckhoff. $5.00. The Ascetical Life. ~By the R~,erefid ~ Pascal P. Parents, S.T.D., Ph. D., J.C.B. $2.50. The ,8ouls. By the Reverend Wendelin Meyer. O.F.M. ~nd Others. Translated~by ~he Reverend Andrew Green. O.S.B. $3.00. =Deaconship: Conferences~. on ihe, Rite o~ Ordination. By the Reverend Aloysius Biskupek, S.V.D. $°2.50. Molders of the Medieval Mind: The Influence of the Fathers of the Church ~on the Medieval Schoolmen. By the Reverend Frank P. Cassidy, Ph.D. $2.00., THE- BRUCE PUBLISHING COMPANY, Milwaukee. ¯ A ~,Vorld to Reconstruct:-Plus XII on Peace and Reconstruction. By Guido Gbnella. Translated-by the Reverend T. Lincoln Bouscaren, S;2. ,under the ¯ ausI~ices of The Bishops' Committee on the Pope's Peace Poifits.~ $3.50. ~ The General Who Rebuilt the desuits. By the Reverend Robert G.- North.: S.d. $3.00. THE NEWMAN BOOKSHOP,,Westminster, Md. Humiliql of Headt. By Ft. Cajetan Mary da Ber'gamo, O.F.M.~ap. Translated by Herbert Cardinal Vaughan. $2.50. " Abridgment o~ the Interior Spirit "o~ tb~ Religious of the Visitation of Hol~l Maql. Explained by Saint F~rancis de Sales. Revised translation from the French Edition of 1914. ~ $1.25~ THE MARlST BROTHERS. St. Ann's Hermitage, Pougbkeepi~e, N. Y. "Oar Lafly's Praise. (In poetry'). Compiled by Brother cyril Robert of,the' Marist Brothers of the Schools. $2.25 . _ THE ABBEY PRESS, St. Meinrad, Ind. ~,~Do 1 Reall~l Believe?: Meditations' 6n the Apostles" Creed. By the Re~'erend Henri Lebon. S.M. T~anslated by the Rever'end~Peter Resch, S.M. $2.25. FIELD AFAR PRESS. New York. Mar~kn611 Mi~'aion'L~tters: Volume 1. 1944. $.50. " . , 296 " " heApos :o!h e of Cross Robert B. Eiten, S.J. C~UFFERIN~'andthe cross are bard for all of us. ~ pine u~nder their weight. ~vre are constantly forced to seek ne~w and striking motives for bearing them. ~t : one ,time perhaps the motive of self-preservation or , " "keeping spiritually-fit" made a ~trong appeal t0~us. Agair~ ~we might have turned our eyes to the p?~st and" seen -° ~p.~rso.nal.siffs.~ Right order demanded that these sins. be ~-~ expiated; hence the motive of expiation for our person.ai mental,health is a matter 0f~'developi.ng rational habit~. o- Given~sani_ty and grace, spiritual perfection depe.nds upon '- ~-buiiding up supernatural habits. ,° -. ¯ Analgsi~ of the Irrational Of both'health of mind and ascetical perfection the dbadly enemy is unreason, or better, irrational emotion. .What St. Augustine writes of sin is true ,also of every ,unsound habit. "It is not wrong to say thaLevery sin i's a falsehood. For eve.ry sin is commited only.with the inten- ~ fion that it sh6uld-be well'with us, or that it Should not be evil with ~s. Therefore there is the falsehood that, although . so.methingfis" done that it may b~e well -g-ith us, it is ~hence , really rather evil with us, or that, although something is done that it m~iy be better with us, it is thence ~eally rather worse with u.s" (De CiuitateDe/. xIV, 4).ludas's experi-ence, partkularly his disappointment with the thirty p.iedei -6f silver;, is a good illustration. Accordingly, in "every unwholesome habit, as well as in every sin, there is a cer-" taih sel~-contradiction', ~elf-deception, and self-frustra'tio~. One seeks satisfaction and gets d~ssatisfaction, or at least if /he doesget a certain satisfaction, he also. suffers a greater ~ dissatisfaction. He looks for the truth and finds an. untruth : he'inten~ls good and brings evil upon himself: 'What :is fals~ can be accepted only under the guise bf truth, andevil . .-can-be willed 0nly under the fallacious appearance .of g_oo.d. Bgth in unhe~ilthy and in sinful habits two esi~ntial ,,.elements are discernible: a false judgment,, giving diiec.tibn, and an emotional force, fundamentally go_od., but mis-directed, an_d" moving to action: If there were no erroneous judgment, one would b~ acting ~in accordance ~with trfith ~nd goodness, and hei~ce rightly. If there were no emotion, there would not be any action at all. It is as if a business::" 309 man invested money to make a profit and sustained aloss~_ or astir a sick man meant to t~ke a medicine and ~drank a~ poison. .Thus the scrupulous man seeks to please God anff by his irrational behavior does what is objdctively dis-: pleasing to Him,~ of~he strives.to make his salutation mdfe' secure and~ at the, same time by-his wrongheadedness really' renders it less certain, or he tries to fulfill the tiniest jot and -~tittle, of tl~e.l"aw and violates the fundamenfal principle~o~f la~ that one should 15e sane and rational. Mor~eover, in both~ the psychical and ethi~a,1, spheres it is mogtly t~he same-emotional forces that ~ause'the trouble: namely, the ego-instinct orpride, the sexual urge, fear, and sadness.° "- ~ _. Fivg Wags of~ Meeting Problems Functional psychic- disorders commonly originate conflict with 0some.~u._nplea~sant reality Which frustrates' br .threatens tO frustrate_~one in s6me way. There are eraL possibilities. "Some m~ke the right and in ouk,case; it would b~e the ~religious Yeaction: they face the ,facts -squarely, . see what is to be doneabout them, and then d0it promptly and courageously. Other are not so happy. Some "take to flight. A soldier who is afraid to. fight and also to °admit it, conveniently becomes blind or paralyzed, and is excused; thus he saves both himself and the respett in which. he is held by himself and others. Another man withdrav~s into a dream-w0rld of his own creation. A third over-" ~whelms himself with external distractions: A third group ~ of people [ightltheir dit~iculty, but not in the normal way. ¯ , A man who is overtimid before other men, intimidates a~d browbeats his family, and~thus compensates. An indication . of this t~endency in human nature is observable in the fact that oftentimes the ,less one's authority, the greater.~.the show. that one makes of it. ~A'ma;a who is fearful of his ° ability to rCsist the attractions of women, may. carefully 310 ~ September)' 1944 ~ ~" , ,~ .9 ,SANITY AND SANCTITY -cultivate a dislil~e and ~ontempt for ~ll the fairer h~lf"of the "~hUman r~c~e, and never miss a chance to disparage them. A ~po~ential drunkard may become a rabid teetotalist.'- wh~o tAri efso utor tshe rcvlea stsw oof m paesrtseorns,s c, olrinkper othmeis em wain.~ ihnt htehier ~G doisffpie:l .~ulty. -An ambitious young priest sets out t~make. tinguished career for himself;~dne~that is rather high for limitations. ° Gradually he yields before great flifficulfies. But he doe.s.not give up hi'aim nor,the ~atisfaction that the - thbught of it brings. He concentrates attention ~on all the \~obst~iCii~s in his way, exaggerates them, perhaps adds a few. ~'of his own niaking; and finally reaches the c6mf6rting~ on-clusion that, alth6ugh now he cannot.reach that goal arid thus show his worth, still, if it were not for all those unfor-ti~ nate circumstances, he could have distinguishdd himself. His s~If-'safisfaction~, is saved. The fifth group simply ~ive up in defeat. Then they may fret ii~way t~heir lives in worry 6r anxiety or sink into the dark depths 'of melan- _~choly and despair.- ' The Influence of Habits With organic psychoses and neuroses, that~is, major and minor mental diseases due, foi instance, to an injured '~.o~'dition of the brain, we are 'not at all concerned in. this ilrticle. Functional psychoses and neuroses have rio demonstrable organic basis. It seems to,~be ciuite" true--all .preventive measures and hopes rest largely upon-this pr, em- ~i~e.--A-~tha~ many persons who have c_ontracted these f.unc-tion~ al disorders could have avoided them if they had intelli . gentler and earnestly disciplined their habits.of thinkihg ~ and f~dling, or, in other words, if they had striven to see and e~valuate'things as they_ are and to modem.te their emotiofis accordingly. But they did not; ;ind the cumulative~effect of .lon~-continued carelessness and drifting leaves~ them m_ore "~ -~3. AUGUSTIN~ ELLARD* -or Iess d~ranged. Reoieu) for~Reli~iqus.; There is nobody .who_ is pe)fectly :n6r- , mal, th~ abnormals being like the rest of us, only mor~ So. ¯ Every_one ha~ some habit or. 6ther which he wou~Id, do wel, I to coriect, both for the health of "' his soul. "No excellent soulis exempt from some admix-f~ lure of madness" (Aristotle). It is with these habits that ~-tBis article is ~oncerned, not with those of persons who are. ~ _ al_ready neurotics or woi~se. Extroversisn anal Introversion Before we discuss'particular l~abits,it may be well:oto °notice two general tendencies of attenti0.n and interest, which, if carried too" far, can become very harmful both to personality and to-the spiritual life, namely, extroversion :and introversion. Extroversion, an inclination:to occup~,, "~neself with what is outside of oneself, may lead to ignor ance of self, thoughtlessness, shallowness of character,: and ~a n~glect of all the greate'r and better things. It is naturally apt to end in that excessive giving of oneself to externals which is a'special failing of ma.ny m6dern religious priests and-is so 6ften #ep~)ecated now by ascetical writers. It is contrary i_n tendency to all-that the interior fire'implies. .RecolleCtion would be reduced to a .point approaching zero. Turning to external things is a favorite means of esc.ape frbm the unRleasantn~ss of living with ~3ne's own imperfedt self and from the goadings of grace when on~ is not on the~ best of speaking terms with God. A~y"religious who is so Vehemently and incessantly busy talking o~ working exter-~- nally°tbat he can hardly think of anything else, would "illustrate v(rhat is meant by the extroverted pers6nality. Extreme extroversion as seen in certain demented persons is often termeffa "flight into reality.-" Introversion, a propensity to keep the ~nind turned - inwa'rd upon itself,-involves the dangers c;f-morbid intro 3 12 ~ ~sp~cfion and0f ge~fing to0 far away from-~rhe "real wo~ld.1 ::Th~ Jn~rover~ may be¢6me ~bsorbed or even lost Jn ~labyrJn~h 0f ~is ow~ ~hou~h~s, fe~1~ngs,. ~nd fa~cJ~s. ~He ~s more apt ~o be brooding, m~dy, and anx~0us: Morally, " be ~S ~n grea~er danger ~f being too self-centered, a~d of'all. ~e.evts ~ha~ go wi~h ~ha~ m~d~fion. He ~ends ~o become unfi~ m l~ve ahd, work w~h o~hers. ~he worst form Jn~r6v~rsJon Js exemplified by ~ose pafiems Jn asylums ;~o~ completely w~dr~w Jn mind from all external reM~ Jry. The Jn~e~rare~ person, ~nd ~be good relJ~Jou~ will Cs~ve r~ S~rJke a ha~py balance ~b~ween extroversion and Unwholesome Intellectual Habits '. ~Am~ng particular bad habits that-call for. discipline, as the psychologi~ would say, or for m0rt~cation, to u£i ~. the ascetical term, the ~oll0wing may. be instanLedf Those . ]in_which self-deception seems more prominent ,will be con 3jdered first, and then those in which the emotional element " has a certain predominance, Of the many ways described ]-by psychoJogist~ in wIich'people deceive, themselves, these'-- ~-~ five seem to be the most significant for our pu~ose. , ~ ~ -: Since sanity consists in contact with reality, it is evident" , thht:~vasion of unpleasant tr~ths is, no part of it.- A certain .amofint of evasion is Vffy.-comm0n'and ~ithin th£.timits of . "the normal. But it.tends to grow from bad to worse,.?nd hence it is excellent material ~or disciplih~ or mortifica[ion. ._. ThoSe who evade disagreeable truths are the persons whgm - ~e hear likened to ostriches hidin~ their heads in the sand~ . .:Simply ~urnin~ away may bring relief for a time;, but :may also ha~ten disaster, ._ . " One may dissimulate or suppress the truth of a dis-tressing fact inone's situation or condition. Fo~ instahee, a man is told by his.physiLian.that his blood-~r£ssure is -=313 Gi AU.~3USTINE ELLAR~. ~ . . o Reaiew t:or Reiigi6us" gettifig. too',high. In.stead'~of a~ep'ting th~ diagnosis an~ r~gulating his life according!y:, ~he thi'nks as little-as pbssi-ble .of the matterYand acts all the more strenuously as if in an efforl~ td prove to hi'self ahd to others that there is nothin°g~ ,wrong with him, and. least of all; high blood-pressure. Similarly, a devout .man is wa~ned by his confessor, pos-sibly by a succession of confessors, that he is s~rupulous." ~.Not only does he not ac,quiesce, but he goes on to do all thSt he can to convince himself and his confessor that he is noi~ scrupulous. If he fail~with one, he pro.ceeds to anoth4r. And meanwhile he is.getici~g farther and fa~the} awffy from reason and religion. . - -~ , . Sometimes people dissemble to themselves the fhct that~ great obstaclds stand in their way. Before they meet them, - they dc~ r~ot lose their courage, but neither do ~they take~ the necessary steps to cope; with them. Thi~y seem to think-that ~ by shfftting their eyes to tlSem, minimizing them~ or, as .it were. laughing them .off, they will-somehow overcome= them.Lady Luck may take care of them. A pious rnan~- -might. say "Providence!' will do it.Sr. X's difficulty is a -qUick and Sharp tongue. Instead.of considerin, g her prob-lem., understanding it, arid seeing what is to be "done about it~ she givesherself up to a va~ue hope that somehow'God's "grace ~vill solve, it, and thinks: no more about it. There~a-re others who manage, to blind l~hemsel¢c~s ~to their Failures-or at least to acknowledge them to thee least-p6ssible extent. "D6n't worry abgut spilt milk." ~ommon and idjurious mode of evading the.truih about. ¯ ,one s deficiencies is to blame .other persons or unfavorable circumstances for them. They are like the football fans-who gladly take all the credit for victory when t~ir team wins, arid who, whenever~& loses, have a multitude- of~ excuses and explanations, ";without, - however, ever gi~ing credit to the other'side forsimply being superior. A teacher 314 Septer~Ber, 1944° ~- "- .SANITY. AND SANCTITY "whose w0'rk is n.bt,tip the-the mark m~y explain~i~- all by refe~rring to the poor qUali(y of the class,~interferences fro~ the principal, un.satisfactory textbooks, a noisydassroom, and so 6n--anything; in fact, except personal deficiencies. - Akin to evading unpleasant truths is-the d~d~lin~.l ?esponsibilitie~. When a man frankly, that is, without_ ielf-deception, refuses to do whavhe knows he ought, to do~ t.he fault is moral. When the mind is so deranged, that therb is no lor~'ger an.y moral imputability and one,shirks~a the fault is merely psychic. .In between these two extremes there ar~ infinite gradations-and combinations of both moraband psychi~ failures, 6f illusions arid bad will. of the corrimonest means of escaping a disagreeable dUSty ._ .and of avoiding embarrassment at the same tinie is to develop, more or less-unconsciously, Or to ~magnify~ a-~'- physicid disability of somekind. No doubt every-ieligious superior"who ,has had much.experience, knows of subjects ~who shirked disagreeable obligations or assignments on the ,plea.of illness or incapacitati_on'that was psychic ratherthan physical. Recourse t6 prayersometimes appears to,be an. example Of dodging, a practical i~sue. Sr. Y comes t6 rea~lize tha~. fhere is a considerable degree of disobedience in-her life. She recalls tl~e magnificent promises of results to those-who pray. Then, instead of clearly formulating to her~ self-what is wrong, what She should do abou~ it, why. she ~boul.d do it, and _by what means, she plans a novena, to :St: 3oseph, so m~any Memorare~s to ~he Blessed Virgin, ~ _such and such prayers to,the Little Flower, and so on. Thus she distracts herself from what she ought- to do. hdrself~ P~ously and comfortab_ly she goes on; so.does the disobedi-ence, !ess piously, but comfortably.- , Rationalization is the proce.ss of making action_that :is unreasonable seem reasonable. PrObably it is thecommon-est- of all the mental distortions pointed out in these pages.- 3.15 G. A~2.G'USTINE ELI~ARD -~Retyiew,[or Religious There is hardly a humah being who d~es not resort to it at times aiad in some measure. Vdry.powerful and ~ersistenk urges impel, us todo thirigs that are r~ot quite right, and at the same time twist our thinking just sufficiently~toenabl~ u~ to feel more or l~ss justified in doing them. On the one hand, those impulses are extremely:strohg, and on the oth.er, we ekperience a certain necessity of being,,or at least -of, appearing to be, rational/both in our own eyes and~.~ .espec.ially in the.estimation of Others. Rationalization su~-~ plies the way out of the difficulty. '~The"rationalizer dab- 6rates- convenient and reassuring, deceigtions,° for himseli~, and Often. alsd deludes-himself into believing that other~' do not see throtigh his fiction. Extreme forms of rationaliza~- -tion are found in. the insane.Rationalization is probably exemplified every day in ev~ery religi6us house. It is the favorite meahs of-taking the edge off the exacting principles of asceticism and the int~rnvenient obligations' 6f the rules,. -and~of making life under them more agreeable. ). One of the worst forms of flight from reality-is day-~ . drearning.~ - It octurs in all degree~ from that which is nor-mal. to that of the utterly insane. It is especially liable to develop "in persons who are inclined 'to remain shut:in within them.sel, ves, whose surrou;adings are dist~ressin_g, and .who have lively-imaginations. If. things are painful "~Well, at least," one may say, "I. can create a world 6f my own where there will be some sort of satisfaction for me. In" fa~t, there, in fancy, ! can have any pleasure that.I Wish." As daydreaming grows.,-it takes one further and furthe~ from real life : hence, its evil aridHanger. Idle reverie in a r~ligious is at best just so miach energy, a;ad, time diverted from his own sanctification and tlse accompffshment of the task ~ assigned to him by God~- M6rtifying the" propensity° to,it would contribute to integration of personality, .to greater holiness, and to haore, efficient usefulness to others. 316 "Septembir~,',1944 - " ~ - - SAIqlTY AND sANcTIT-Y ' A, marked tendency.to, suspiciodsness is- not,a'good stgn. df rob~st~and depe_ndablehealth of mind~ .it'involves~:fte,°o q{aerit~ deceptions of self, engenders e'ver'y sort of dhrk.affd blister fe£1ing, and lessens ol{e's fitfiess to live and work w.i~th -~others. In a religious,, suspiciousness 0fsuperiots can gb so far a~ to become positively pathological. There are religious who easily ,develop a martyr- omp'lex. Brother X, a man of v~ry good ~will but poor 'judgment, has often had to be corrected bj~ his shpefio~s. He is fully conscious of his good faith. After~a tim~, he notices that although behas beentrying very earnestly.to°~ d9 the right thing, he has-ndt met with approbation and "_erfcouragement, but rather, as i~ seemed, j~st the contrary. He ~recalls. that God often allows His l~est servants to b~. persecuted. Finally,. he concludes that be'must be-in that class. ,From then on every unpleasantness met in his rela- - tions~with, others and particularly every admonition given~ by superiors is'interpreted'.as one m6re indication that he is beingperse~uted and thathe_ must.be a ,great°favorite-wi~h 'Heaven.~ . Wha'tever i~ done ~o make him see~the light ts taken to be so much more molesfation. ' Another bad habit of mind is found in many people ~. ~ who, are b0tl~ered, with irisistent,, umvelyome, .thoughts. Some of the best igeople are distressed in this way with the~ ~orst thoughts: - Ideas of the most repuls~v.e:nature force-fully~ obtrude themselves into'.the mind, even at the most-sacredo- mom(nts or places. They are utterly out 'of keeping~ ~Twith the character of the person whom they aftlict, and are felt, as if by some external force, to be imposed upon one "-._ They are not ordinary temptations, hnd should" not ~be ~resis~ed as ifthey were n~tural movements of resentment:o'r. o~ncupis~enc.e: Fear and autosuggestion may be factors in b.ringing;them ~ibout. .Recognizing them for what they~ are, avoiding fear of the~, ignoring~them, andan effort tO 3i7 .~- ~. o ~-" --. ~ ~. ~ L~",,~- ~.~ '~ o ~t ~AUGUSTINE ELLARD~ ~ , "~ ~, R~ie~ for'R~ligious remain indiff~)rent ~toward them ¯while preserving ~;ne's, self- 'possession, a~e more effective, o_ -~_~ Unwholesome Emotional Habits The se'cond, and perhaps the more'important,-eleme~t in every,irrational, and also every irreligioud, reactign,., is ~affective or emotional. It is this that adds power, some-times compell'ing pdwer, to them, and leads to action. Cer- ¯rain cases, out- of many, will be indicated in the f611owing ' paragraphs ~ Nowadays we.are always hearing about int:eriori't~t [eelings.,and their injurious consequences. Obviously, sense o]~ inferiorityis humil!ating and.embarrass!ng: B~- sides, when not-well borne, it begets depression, fearful-ness, discouragement, and a disinclination to exert orieself. --So may fal~e humility, tn these dispirited states of soul. some people~ m.ay stick: But others undertake io do some-" o rising about it, though they are not in the.best condition-t0 judge what should be done,, and then dissatisfaction with ~ "- one's !nferiority and the desire to.be rid of i~ or even to-secure a certain, elevatidn over othe_rs, may lead to a great ~. garie.ty ofpersonality.fa9lts. ~These efforts may be of two general kinds: disguise or compensation. ~ Attempts. to con-ceal ohe's inadequacy .involve; falsity ~and duplicity, not 0co, nducive to the unity thatcharacterizes an integratedper-son. If they be kept up for long,.they may ,bring about~ stra!n and unnataumrOacl~ a.h.t.y. Moreo~'er, the cha_nces.are' that-they~ v~ill be °unsuccessful, and ~leave the~hypoc.rit~2 feeling more inferior than ever. Unsound.forms of comp~fi sation that occur are, for example, exaggerated aggressive- -.ness, fan~aticism, blustering, excessive reforming ze.al: unrea~0n~ble c.ritic~ism Sf others, extremes of conduct, d~: ~" matism, rigorism, tyrannical domination, and a hos~ - 31'8 September, 194'~I~ ~" ~ " " " SANITY,ANI~ SANCTITY A~sense of .l~ssene~d worth neednot,.bemJ.U. rzoys" ' . ~' to one's pers0n~lity. Of all p~ople?the Saints felt thifir worthless- -. ness~'most keenl~ and acknowledged it most Openly. CerZ tainly some of them r~garded themselves as-the wo]:st of all fiu~an beings. But their ge~nuine, not false, humility, t.oge.th'er :with other virtues which balanced and Suppl"e- ~mented it, was an antidote that prevented them fr0m~ °requiring a psych, iatrist~s attention; in fact,~it-became one of[the foremost reasons for their superior exci~llence.- The "healtlSy-minded and sensible man will take himself as he is,. , acknowledge 14is,,limitations, and,,intelliger{tly and courdge- 0usly make the mo~t of his potentialitie,s. He will not 6v~errate himself and thus. deceive himself, nor b~y. futile at~empt~ to rise higher, render himself_, still more inferior than he. really is. True Christian humility, accompanied l~.y~ confidence in-God and magnanimity, is the sovereign remedy fgr a depressing sense of inferiority, Sex is. also a most fertile hotbed of psychic and moral troubles.° Here especially the right ideas and the right attiv ifudes of will are of supreme importance for those Who would advance in sanity.and sanctity. If one's views are too broad, the'moral life ~it least will suffer, and the mental "may. If they are too narrow, too puritanical, the tumul-tuous currenl~'of"sexual, impulse may demolish the :dikes unnafurally restraining it and wreck everything~ As Horace remarked long,ago, you may.chasenature out with a fork, , ut it v~ill alwa.ys return. This is true in a special way of/ sexu~il~nature. If it is unnecessarily repiessed, sooner or -,later it ~ill emerge again, perhaps in a ,disguised,,and mor-bid form. and with.increased .~violence. Too mueh repres- 1. s~on:would involve the danger of making one a neurotic,. and then What about his chastity?~. Temptations would be multiplied and at the same time one would have less than the normal ability to cope with them. - 31~9 G: AUGUSTINE-EI~LARD - " ° ? R'e~ieW ~o~ Religious The right ~iew of se~ di+ine view of it. It would not .regard ~ everything aboat se~ as bad and ugly. Nor would it ,be-too negative. the contrary,, it would-look upon sex as an integral element in human nature and a divine+creation, and as such, g~od:'. . In the practice of cha+~ity, whether conjugal or celibate, a person would seek, by the e~pression.oP all that is noblest . in him rather than by repression,-to achieve the pbsitive +purpoSes of the law, to develop and perfect one'elf, to beg~t offspring, whether ih the literal, or .the m~taphoric~ ~ense, and to increase o e s love for Him who~ is qnfinite -loveliness and beauty. The.-sexUal instinct, whichr as?a matter of fact, is so destructive to divine love[ can-and~3 ~hould' be integrated with it, ~nd become a most .~o~n~ ~promoter of it. Lack of su~cient instruction can haye tragical" ~onse~ quences. These days there seems to be need of much information in such matters than in the good old Victo~ian~- d£ys, especiall7 from books or the spoken word, The amount that one -should.have will depend upon individual needs find the hature of one's work. Suppression of the desire todearn wfiat one ought to know[-or legitimately might well know would seem to be a good example of the kind of.ihe sup--~ " ~ression that is injurious; beside~;,it .would be a persistent source bf. unnecessary temptations, .anxiety, and strain. Instruction shoul~ extend b6th to the facts and.to one',s obligations. The minor mental disease of scrupulo~F~,~ often thrives on sex-ual ground: .-,_ .An exaggerated conception or ideal tity may mislead .some. Properly-speakifig, the highe~ .chaptiF~ that-is possible for us is-human,, such as, for example, is exemplified in ChriSt or the Blessed ~irgi~ Even they, since they did not experience temptations, can- 320+ ~not be~prox~ma~e mo~ls ~n thi~ ~espect. But'marly of t~e ~rg~n and confesso~ saints went through furious and pro- ~ 1onge~ sie~es ef temptation w~th an inviolate lustre of purity. -~here is mhch in the ~h~story of religion ~and mys- .[~cism to confirm the saying of.~ascal t~at one who unin-telligently seeks to become an angel becomes~a beast. After self-assertiveness and sexuality, f~ar seems to be the most deleterious emotion. ~ople whose personality is ~ore or less maladjusted b~ reason of~fear or anxiety are very numerous. One manifestatio~ ~f it t~at we can con~ s~der briefly is Scrupuios~ty. ~A full treatmenL~how~Ver, of this Specifically religious ~ental malady is quite impossible~ here. Profane analogues of scrupulosity are seen in per-sons who can hardly assure themselves su~ciently that they have, ~or instance, turned off_the gas, or locked the door; or written an address cor[ectly. In a scruple, that is, an irra- ~tiofial fear of sin, the emotional' factor, anxiety, seems to ,be'mu~h more important than the error of judgment. ~hiS~ can be ~emoved efisily by-instruction,~but the anxiety is stili ~here, and not so easily expelled. The first and most e~ca-cious rule for the scrupulous is, according to all huthorities~ to seek competent direction and tO follow it most exactly, ~' li.ke a docile patieht obeying the doctor's prescriptions. - If ~ this is done, the fear will Vanish, or at least gradually a~fophy. Additional means of dispelling it are: not to yield to it by actin~:tq obtain greater security, heartily t~ 59cept the assurances gixen by one's director, .to consider his-judgment safer than ofie's ~wn .disordered fancy, to duiti-vate insight~ into the groundless~es~ of one's apprehen-~ sions, to proceed ~irectl# to do what is feared, to notice that it does not hurt other people, to be careful, not to n~glec~ one's .real obligations, like the Pharisees who strained gnats and swallowed camels, and. finally to ~develop that filial trust and confidence in God which He desires. Cultiva,tinig . ~3,21 G. ~AUGUSTINE,ELL.~.RD, ~ ° ~ " ,~ Revietoffor; Religi6u~ ~ a sense~of-humor nd.the abit of seeing the ridiculdusness- Of one's'sc.rupulous fear is also.an effectiVe remedy. - - A neurbsis that is not Unknown in religious communi-tiesis h.qpgchondriasis, tha( is, a morbid anxiey about~ one'S h(alth. The patient, is perpetually thinking hboul~ it, -noticing.and magnifying in imagination all possible~symp-toms, anticipating_the worst, seeking and using remedies ~alLsorts, watching for their effects, ~comparing his condition today with yesterday, and so on. Meanwhile he is really-making himself.sick, or :aggrav.ating any reaFailments that he. ma~y have. He could cure himse.lf, of his unhealtl~y~ worry if he would follow a course like that recommended o for the scrupulous: or if he would concentrate'on the major, things in life, espe.cially in the spiritual' life. Distracting work-would bep~irficularly good for him.' If he Were more.~ solicitousabout his mental and spiritual well-beiiig, his "health of b~dy would take care of Jtself. " ¯Depression ¯ --Another emot~bn that iblays havoc with the minds an~ :.~ :souls qf-many i~ "sadness. It~ran~es all the way frog"slight ¯ and ~ransi~nt low. . spirits in nbrmal person.so to a leffdi~ag "symptom in some of,~the psychoses. When. due to physi~a!: -conditions that cannot-be remedied, it-should be bo/ne. patiently, like the re~t of'one's cross. Insight into i~ho~e °causes will help to relieve it, and'for the rest, of all people_ the good religious has the least reason for being depressed.~ ¯He should kriow a~d realize tha(God's wh91e plan.for him, ~hough it does'contain 'suffering, is from beginning ~to end_ - ,~ d.esign for'peace and ineffable beatitude. ""W~ know that -o-forthem that love God he worke~h a.ll things toge}her unto, : g0b,d" (Romans 8:28). .find it enlightening and -322 Some depressed religious might encouraging to: read a ~chapter September, 1944 SANITY AND SANCTITY "_"eXplaining St. Teresa~;s ,psychiatry of. melancholy i~ l~er- Foundations (chapter VII). Ps~lchotherap~l o " -- To cure an unwholesome habit (people who have developed neuroses are referred tb the psychiatrists), three .general methods are available: psychagogy, analysis and synthesis, and a combination of both. Ps~tch.agog~ First, one can simply go to a competent counselor,. explain one's case. and carry out the pres~riptions~ as ,a patient does with his~physician. Besides efllight~ening,, per-suading, and using suggestion, a'~counselor can give a~ .troubled p~e~son a, good 6pportunity to talk. It is a fact that in some cases a man caff talk himself out bf a neurosis. No doubt the explanation is that thus the patient sufficiently= clarifies his own mind, gets insight, and reaches emotional" equilibrium. A, nal~/sis arid Sgntbesis Secondly, one may, preferably with the.help of a court-s~ lor, take the~ following procedures. - , . I. Inoestigation. What are;the origin and" nature of the trouble? When and where did the faulty habit begin? ¯ ~What elements in one's external situation or in one's inter; -nal condition could have given rise to it? What factors in one's experience (for example, shocks or frights) or in one's training, help to explain it? What ideas have been guidi_~l~ one?- What emotional forces have been at work? What has one been seeking orshirking? Wil~h.what results? II. Insight. If the investigation has been-successful, insight should follow,.but it may need to be deepened, broadened, and heightened bY much reflection. A maia has " '-'.insight" y~hen, say, he has an irrational notion or impulse~ 323 for ReHpiou_ s ~ _.and recognizes~it as such. W~iters on the discernment spirits would say that he i~moved by an. evil sp!rit, ,hUman of diabol, ical, and realizes that fact. If he can understhnd~ how it came about and its nature,~ so much.the better." If the insight gained be dear and f~Ull, he will then be prepared to treat the notion or impulse as if'it were a sffggestion~ from a ocrazym~in or'a swindler. Insight can ,be suflicientfy--clehr and strong to effec't a complete cure at once: It does awa.5; with the false ideas or °illusions at least. "III. Release of Em'otional Tension. Next one must see ~and feel by all' possible considerations, and work aL it till one really does see and feel, the fol, ly, futility, and:frus-trations of what he has" been doing, and this in,contra~st to the val~uds, positive and negative, of thecontrary rati6nal ~-~,~abits. He must bring himself to realize, .for example, that he hasbeen fearing ,where. in finality there was riothing, tp fear, or desiring what really was-not desirable. Thus the perverse inclination will dissolve like ice before the hot,sun. The secorid element of the irrational, namely, misd~rectedl emotion,, i~s thus remedied. Other means of. reducing unsalutary hffectivet~nsions are i avoiding the.objecys-that~ stimulate them: eschewing thoughts of those objects; ~ expelling~a lesser fear or love by agreater fear d'r love, fear of,h!an, for instance, by- fear of God; arousing in oneself the" contrary emotiori, fbr instance, hbpe against despair; throwing oneself .int~o some absorbing.~external, action; pro-ceeding tO do what. One fears, or to-do the opposite of what, one. feelsimpelled tO.; quiet and rest. Even if a man c~n- ¯ not discover b~r analysis why he has this or that inclination, he is ~ti11 free, if his mental integrity has not been damaged too-much, not to adt on that impulse.~ The a~m is always, not to darri up'the forces of human nature, but to give ttiem wise direci:ion and .wholesome outlets. Here ratib'nal com- 'pensati~n-and:sublimation, that is,:guiding one's instinctive 324 ~ Sep~ember~'lg~ ~ ~ ~" ~, ~ . SANI~ AND SANCTITY "urges toward somethifig equally good of better, ~are emi-nently in~place. 0necould, for-example, seek" eventual ex~ftation throughhumility, ot the grat~cations of love in ~divine charity. IV. Re-educa?ion, Rd~te~ra~ion. 1. Specific }emedial habits are to be ascertained, their adavantages adequately" apprefiated, and then put into practice. A scrupulous per- :son for instance, should avail himself of what. are called ".th~ privilege~ of the ssrupulous." 2. The basic defects in the.personality-which are at the root 6f the diNculty sEould be uncdvered if possible and treated in ~ore or le~s thesame_ wag, with a ~iew to building hp that unity and fullness,; and balance which constitute intdgration of personality. In a scrupMofis)erson.the defect ~ay be a deep-seated timid- ~ To conclude, insight into one's unbalanced emotional p$opengities and control of tbem will give one sanity; a high degree 6f such insight .and~self-control will add sagac- -itE; and, if supernaturalized by graqe, it will bring sanc-" ~tity~ and thus ultimately a rich participation ~n the beat~c .~ision and love arid ~njoym~nt of God. ¯BOOKLETS ON VOCATIONS Halt! Hearken to.the C~{/ of the Children. A PamPhlet of 28 pages, by Fathers Rumble and Catty. The pamphlet was written originally by an Australian nun for Australian girls." Its purpose is ~to give an appreciation of the. work of the tegching Sisterhoods. Price: 10 cents. Write to: Radio Replies Press. St. Paul 1, Minn. "What Would You Like to Be? Aft interesting brochure explaining the-life the Marianist Pries-t, Teaching Brother, and Working Brother. Contains well-chose~ pictures and clear explanations. Write to: Rev. Father Superior, Mount -St. John. R. D. 2, Dayton 10, Ohio. ¯ The Making7 oF, a Man: A pocket-size pamphlet, explaining in general'the ~ ,-vocation'of the Mhrianist, and in,particular t_he life of the "postulate" at Maryhurst, ~ Kirkwodd, '/v~issouri. The "postulate" in this instance is not merely th~ postu~ lan.,cy which immediately precedes entrance to the novitiate, but an entire high school course for~prospecave candidates fo~ the Society of Mary. Write to: Maryhurst~ Kirkwood, Missouri. Reverend Fathers: , When I give a retreat in a hospital-convent, I decidedly do not wish to replace the chaplain H~ may need a vacation: but thai is. no reason why his work ~hould be-added ~to.the burden of the retreat~ master, who must give pe_rhaps four conferences a day, hear confes-sions, keep himself available for private con.sultation, and perform his own spiritual exercises, besides. If.the chaplain must go away just at that time, why not engage another"priest to take his place, so thht the. retreat master can restrict his attention to his own exacting work? I am w~illing to have, and even insist on having, the cgmmunity Mass in the morning and the Benediction in the evening for the retreatants. But I,wa~t nothing more of the chaplain's regular wgrk. Imagine distributing Communion to who l~no~s" how many. patients befor~ M~iss; then, :whewhardly back in the chapel with the Blessed Sacrament, being called to administ_er the last rites to'-a dying persoff~ while the community waits: then after Mass, while ~akiiag the thanksgiving, being called out in a hurry to give Extreme Unction to one who has" suddenly died in a ward; then, after a hasty breakfast, going to say the ritual prayers for the ~lying over a patient; and then rushing to the chapel to give the retreatants theif morning con~er-- ence!' Or imagine.a Sister rushing up to the table in the sanctuars; whil~ you are. giving-a~ consideration ~nd asking you to "Come. quickly; somebody is dying!" But it isn't as bad as alFthat, some may objest. , Oh, but it often is. I. ha.ve experienc~ed it. And. if it isn't, you know that it can be at any moment. A Priest , Reverend Fathers: After each of the three annual retreatS, we discuss the various, points that have been, noticed by different novices. Here are a few. We don't like to have the retrea.t master tall~ right past us to the .few.older. religious who are also on retreat. They've heard mostof it, anyway. The retreat master ought to talk so that we Who have. not passed twenty can get something out of it. .326 ¢ " " CO~UNICATIONS ._- "Let'-tl~e~,~etreat master leari~'something, about our community. "before talking on the "Holy Rule': in general arid making com~ments -on prescriptions_that aren't even in our rule. " We are poorly impressed when tile retreat master comes up the aisle.with a strong scent of perfUrfie trailing after him. He ought t~ let us see ~hat hi~ actions and bearing correspond with 'what he is telling us to do. Let him forget the affectations of speech. Even thofigh he talks ~oorly, a re-all~" good religious priest (you can see the hdliness of his life) is far better liked than an easy-going but powerful speaker. The former is a sermonin himsel£the latter is, too, but in a different way.~ We have a copy of the text of St. Ignatius' Spiritual_Exercises; too. If we want to read it, we can do so; and we do not" like to have a retreat-master me~ely read th~ text and a.dd_ practically nothing of his:own. We0never like to be read at; even .when the retreat mas-ter begins almost every conference or meditation with the words:_ "St. Ignatius next says . A little story once in a while helps .to keep things alive and nbt all fire and brirristone tales, but something practical and forceftil. ~ We're young; and we enjoy a joke .wrapped up in the conferences o now and then, But not one that is completely irrelevant. Brother Novices Reverend Fathers: The foll~wing remarks on tiae retrea~ question ~epresent th~ result ¯ o~ a question~naire.given a n.ur~ber of Sisters two years~ago: Desirable length ~of retreat: 6 full days. ~ Desirable length of conferences and medi~ations: 40-45 .minute_s. ~'uggestions for Retreat program: 1) Have four or five conferences daily. 2) Allow sufficient ti~e after dinner for a rest,-so thfit retfeat-aiats will be better able for mental exertion. ~ 3) Allow time at 11:45 for exame~. 4)'Have commun!ty prayers (espedally the Office) said p~i- ~ately, so that the retrea~ants will have more time for private reflec, tion. : 5) Begin confessions" no'later than the third day. S[zggestions concerning sequence of subject-matter: 1) Have a definite sequence, so that one conference is.a prdpa_r.a-tion for~ the next. ~ "COMMUNICATIONS " " ~ ' 2) But- do not" follow th~ Ignatiansequence so'closely tha~ one " will know exa~tly~what meditation is'to follow. ~u~gestions concerning subject-matter: -1) Give practical examples illustrating 'the ideals of re.ligious life, rather than a vague generalization. 2) Make examples positive rather than negative. 3) Center the entire retreat around a certain virtfie, such as conformity to the Wi[l of God or lo~;e of God. - 4)"A~zo[d relating personal experiences and stories of scandals in other communities. ' 5) Arrange the subject matter so that, if some I~roups are men-tioned, all will be mentioned; for example, superiors and inf.eriors, or nurses, teachers, and house-sisters. .6) Repeat a definite theme again and again d~uring the retreat. 7) Give conferences on the methods of. mental prayer and have. the meditation on prayer early in the retreat. 8) Give practic.al meditations on the love of God, emptying ~of ~lf-love, etc. 9) Stress" the Indwelling and" the Mystical Body, as means of living in uniofi with God. 10) Discuss the three ways in the Spiritual' Lif~, putting special emphasis on the unitive way. 1 1) Develop the life of Christ according to the mysteries of the rosary. ~ , Other .points: 1) Be straightforward and s'~ecific in the treadnent of the reli-' gious life. 2) Conduct the retreat in the presen'~e of the Blessed.Sacrament. 3.) Use simple and cleat, ratlSer than flowery, diction. ~) Ask of each penitent in the confessional the subject-matter:. of her particular examen, or question her on prayer. 5) "Talk" the conferences instead of~ reading them. 6) Avoid throwiffg jibes~ at women. Z) Use tile word "Sister" frequently for emphasis. 8) Put the Sister at ease in the donfessional by givilag l~er time, showing an interest in her spiritual advancement, by encouraging her in her good resolutions, etc. A Sister .~ ~ - -~ _ . _ ~ ~ ~ " ~ T~-~ ~ a Religious Insfi u e _ Adam C: Ellis, S~J.- .]:o~r al! p~ovinc~s, houses; and m~mb~rs of th~ insti-~i. . ~ tut~ (canon 502).- H~nc~ it is obvious that h~ has. authority owr th~ t~mporal affairs 0f tfi~ institut~ as wall as o#~r'spiritual and disciplinary matters. But sinc~ it imp~ssibl~ for on~ p~rson to car,-for all th~ d~tai~s of"go~-~ ¯ ernment by himself, the law-of=the Church pr~yides for 'helpers 6f various kinds-who are to assist the superior in ¯ ~hi) government of the institute. Thus canon 516 6f the Code of Canon Law provides for couficillors and bursars for~ all~)eligious superiors. The pu~ose of the present grticle is"to definet~e duties o(th~.bursar g~neral of'a r~li- ~gious institute. .- Appointmen~ "1~ ~h~.¢~nsfi~u~s nre ~ilen~ ~n ~he mnHer ~ deefin9 ~. The Code alloGs the constitutions to determine hdw the ~-.~ursar general is to be chosen. Usually the~:pro~ide forhis =election in the general chapt~. ~ It~i~ oMg whe~ the constitu-tions are.silent in the matter t~at the=superior g~neraI ~s gwen the power to appoint the bursar general with the consent.of his council. No definite term of office is laid down in_the Cod~ for. bursars~ They may" b.e reappointed-or elected again indef!-i nit~ly. Nor is'the office of bursar general incomp_atible.with. that of a general councillor as far as tile common law of the C]aurch is concerned, but to unite~ the~e offices in 6ne pe.rso11.i~ usually considered inexp_e°dien, t and is not infrequently for: - bidden by the.constitutions. .o 32.9 ADAM C. ELLIS :, ~ ': -- " Ret~iqto for Religious -_ r - Limitations of Power~ ~: ~° "They are t~ exercise .their office under fhe°d~recfion of their respec-tive superiors" (canon S 16,§ 2) but "the superior himself may net ,d!schargb. tl;e office of bu~'sar 9eneral or provincial 'bursar" (canon SI6, § 3). By forbidding the s~perlor genera) to act as bursar and by ~subjec~ ting the bursa'r general to the direction ~f.~the SUl~e- -rior, the law providhs a safeguard against maladminis~tra-tipn. " The superior must exact an. account of'hisadministra-tion froth the bursar, who cannot dispose of tempor.al-goods withoutthe permission o~ i0is superior. Nor may the sup.e: rior grant him unlimited permission. Us.ually the details of these matters ar~ determined by theconstitutions. " Constitutions sometimes provide forthe appointment oi: sev.eral administratorS: one for the general care bf the; teinpor.alities of-the ~nstitute or" province, others for . t.icular kinds of work, such as the administratiQn of pub-, lications, printing presses, and various offices. ., Whateqer the relations may be, the funds of each indi-- vidual mo'ral personality--institute, province, house "mFst be keptseparate; and are not to be heaped into 6he common% fund. Extent of Powers "Besides the superiors, those officials also who are so empowered b~ the constitb'tions can, within the limits of their office, validly incu'r expenses. "and perform juridical acts of ordinary administration" (canon 532, § 2). Normally, then, the bursar has the power to incur' expense~ and perform theoju~idical .acts of o;dinarg "admini~- ~tri~tion: ~ By ordinary administration is meant everyth'ing which p'ert.a~ns to the everyday needs of the i.nstitut_~;e~. or community. Such Would be the purchase of food, clothing,- - and fuel, the repla.cement of things worn out. or brdkeh. ordinfiry repairs on-buildings, and"the like. To.sell the~ ~superfluous products of the farm, dairy, and poultry yard,, 330 ~@ September, 1944 ; THE BURSAR GENERAL~OF,A RELIGIOUS INSTITUTE w~ould~iikewise come und~:-the head of.o'rd~fiary adminis-~[ tration. ' It,is" customary to entrust this ordinar.y administratioq~. ~ entirely~ to ,the bursar and' his )issist~nts. Hovgeve~r,~ sup~-~ -.riors retain their own powerl of juridica!,administratiOn; ~ : hffd°if they ~place any acts of such administration, these acts~ ~ ; are valid.~ ¯ , Qualities.of Good Administration '-'~'~" Canon 1523~ lays down rules for all administrators, including religious. It .Begins by telling them" that th@,° ~, should fulfill their '.office With the diligenc9 of a good, -'"paterfamilias" or head of a household, which implies two qualities: care and. prudepce. ~ It then descends ~o the ¯ ~ ~ following details: ~ -- - 1. Vigilancelest any temporal, goods spoil" or per.ish. The superior may prescribe certain defini~te ways of,pro2- ~ ~ture, andmay forbid others:, : " " " Z :'~ 2.-Observance ,o~ th.eprescriptions of bo~h ~anon and~ ' civil law: It is evident that the p.resc'r, ipt~ions of Canon Law ¯ : must,, be observed/ especially those of canon-~534," which govern the alienati6n of goods belongi.ng to religibus com-munitie~ s as .well as the incurring of debts. Th~ prescrip-hans of the civil law Sh6uld also ,be observed, lestthere be ~ darigerof losing 3uch gob_ds thro~igh neglect of, the requiie- " men.is of the civil la~. This applies especially to all kinds '"~'Of contracts'and the i.ncurring.of debts, because th~ Code tias "canonized" the civil law in ~his matter:, "Thb presc~';pfions of the civ.il law of the place r~garding contracts b~th ~n cjen~ral and°in particular, whether'nomlnate o~ ;nhominate as well as recjardin9 payments,'shall be obse~rve'd by the same right in. eccles;astl-cal matters, unless they. are contrary to the natural law'~or special pre-. scr;pt~ons are found in canon law" (ganon 1529). ., ,3. Incc~me of goods ghoutd be accurately demar~ded "at ° [egular intervals:. Income thus collected should ,be care- fu, lly,. guarded and (i-n:~s~ ~,~bf foor~lations)o sh~ould, be .expended according .to th,e mind ~f the donor. 4. Income sho~tld-, be invested for the benefit of.' the, Church." The',,term "church" in the gener~il canons ,,on temporalities-means the individual moral personality of who~se, temporalities there is question (canon !,498). For~ us it means the religious institute. " -_- All income acquired~from temporal goods is considered - as.free-capital until it is invested. Hence it may for ordindry _expenses and for the payriaen.t ,of debts. °'But ifit is not needed for these purpose's, it should be inves(ed. Once i~avested, it becomes "capi_tal" or eccelesiastical goodsTM and is subject to, the" norms of canon law regarding aliena-, I~ion. 5.~ Books of mon&s received and expended should~be-cqrefully kept. This is sound business sense. It is*also, -iequired-in" order that the administrator may give that _ periodic account to l~i~ superiors required b~r the canon law. 6. Documents and business papers, should be kept in order and karefully gtiarded. This includes all kinds of- ~documents and p.apers, such as deeds to property, founda-. _ tions, donatibns,, contracl~s, and so forth. Canon -375',/ § 2 obliges bishops-to see to it that an inyentory or cata-logue- Of all documents in the'diocesan arcl-iivesbe mad.e. This inventory' includes a brief synopsis of the-content-~f,, each documen[. : Such a catalogue.- makes it e~sy to._find documents and-lessens,the danger of the.ir being lost. Reli-gious i~dministrators will do well to observe thi~ canon. °-. Such, in gener~il, are the ordinary powers and duties of. an administrator of ecclesiastical goods; in ourcase, of the-bursar general with-regard to the goods of his instltute. . Superiors should not interfere in the ordinary" administra-tion of the bursar, but should receive reports from him-and o examine~his accounts from time to time. The ~ao-rmal func-" 332 ~pternber, 1944 ~ ~ THE BUI~$AR~(3ENERAL OF,A RELIGIOIJS INSTITUTE ti6n;of the si~perior inthisregard is ttiat of~direction. The iminediat~ and" actuM ordin~ar~r administration is generally ~tenied to superiors by, the Code, and should be left to the bursar and his assistants subject to~ the direction 'of the superior. Thee coristitutions usually,, pr~scribe in detail 'the rela- ~ tions between superiors ahd bursars in regard to. temporal-administration, and should be' faithfully observed. " - " Extraordinary.! Administration -~y .acts of extraordina.ry admin.istration a~e m~,ant ~hings which are more rare and.of a more important- nature,¯ Such as the inv_estment of-money, excha~nge of securities, buying and selling of real estate, exti)aordinary repairs of 15uildings and equiPment, and the building of a °new stru~-. ture~, Fo~ all such actions the bursar must obtain the vari- "ous pe~rmissions required by the common lawa~s well as by the constitutions of his instittite. According to the general law of the Church, '~not only every .institute, but e~very p~ovince, and every house is capable of acquiring and possessing property w, ith fixed ~r fotinded revenues, unless the capacity to do so be excluded or restricted by its rules and constitutions" (canon 531). Some constitutions provide for" but one subject of. owner- ,ship, in the entire institute, so that there is only one.a~lmin-istration of temporalities. In this case it is usual for the constitutions to prescribe that the bursar general ~keep ~eparate accounts at least of the income and.expenses of the ,iridiiridual ho(~ses. This will show whether or not the ~individual houses are self-supporting. .: When each house has itsown~ local'administ_ration, it is 9sually prescribed that a certain portion of,the net in, come remaini_ng at the. end of the year after all bills liave" b~en paid,should" b~sent to the'motherhpuse foXthe su~pp0rt of .333 o~. ADAM C, ELLIS th.~:novices, Sisters in studies, and the like.~ The' N~cmae of 1~901 pres(ribed that well-to-do houses should-con, tribute one third of the .net~.cash on hand year, after all bills had been paid presen.t, practice of the Sacred Congregation ~f Religiou.s is t6 allow th~ .constitutions to prescribe that the genei~al c~hapter wiil decide the amount that should be ~contribut~d annually to the motherhouse .for the needs of the institute a whole.' The amount may thus be increased or lowered in each general chapter, according to the needs ~f the times. It "is" the dhty of the bursar general to collect t.hese contribu-tions at the pr0i3er time, as Well as~o examine the-financial statements of t/fie individual l~6uses which are sent to him periodically, according to the consti~utions. If these accounts are-not satisfactory, he ~should report the °det~- ciencies to ~the superior, whose duty it is to rePrehend those responsible. , To vindicate and defend o-rie's ~:ights in court is an act oFnormal adm~nistration: but religious superiors may not go to courtin the' name of their community excep.t in con-~,~ fo.rmi.ty'with theconstitutions (d~anon 1653, § 6). - " 'Conclusion ._ Administrators,of church 15roperty, b9th~superiors and other officials, should., remember° that they-are not the owners of the property which they administeL hence_they. ma.y riOt dispose of the temporal goods of the institute'as they please; but only in accordance with the prescriptions of canon and civil law. All administrators are obliged to give-an account of their stewardshiE~th~ .bursar general to-the superior general, the superior general[to the Holy See in the quinquennial repb~t in the case of mstttutes approv.ed by-the Holy See, to the local Ordinary in .the case of a~ diocesan congregation. . # 33'4. ' ~re:~ou Sor~yfoi YOur-Sihi? Gerald Kelly, S.J~ ~HE.Council of Trefit oNciall~-declardd: that true con- ~.~ ~rigion consists in a detestation o~ one's sins, .with grief ~'of soul, and a purpgse~0f sinning n0 more. According to~ the same Council; contrition is so-necessary that God never 'forgives any persona~ sin, even in the Sacraments of~ ~ Baptism and Penance, unless the sinner genuinely repents. ~ Perhaps it is this doctrine of the necessity'of contrition that makes the subject ingeresti~g. ¯ At any rate, it is inter, .~sting. Anyone who has taught th~ Subject, whether in ff ~theology elass or .in an advanced religion class, knows that. ~And we all know it from personal experience, too.; We want to b~ rid of our s~ns; therefore we want to be sorry for ~t~em~.and we wan~ to be sure we are sorry for them. Perfect Contrition ~' Per[ect,contrition is a. subject of .special intereit because .it sometimes happens that perfect contrition affords the~ "only possible means of saving o~e's soul. The baptized person who is i~ the state of,mortal sin and is dying with~ 6ut the oppor~unity.of~going to cdnfes~ion or ~f receiving E~tre~e Unction is faced ~ith the grim alternative of making an act of perfect contrition or of going to hell. The unbaptized sinner who is dying w~thout th~ opportunity -of receiving, actual baptism faces a similar alternative. No one can sa~ that ~eff~ct.contrition will neve~ be a matte'r of ~trict necessity for him, becau~ ~ortal sin is ~ ';possibility for.everyone, and death ~ithout a pfiestqs ~Is~ a possibility: Yet, even if it were never of Strict necessity, ~the,act of perfect Contrition is a beautiful prayer and should be £afd often. It i~ certainly.the best kind of contrition?for".-" ~ .~. ~ ~ GEI~LD KELLY - Revievd/or veni~l sins;-and,, withr~eg~rd to m~rtaI~in~, it hdst~e spe.~ ~ .cial p~wer.of restoring sanctifying grac~ to the sodl imme: diately,-thus makin~ it unnecesary to wait. ~or the oppor-tunity of gging~,to~cgnfession .in order~to 'regain God's friendship, to be able to ~erit eternal life, and to.be pre; pared for suddeh ~eath, ' InstrUcted CatholiCs usually know the ~adt that ~er: fect contrition immediately ~lots out mortaI sin, but not ikfrequently t~ey misunderstand "the reason for this special power of p~rfect c6ntrition. In fact, only recentlE,' ih'a bbok otherwisd sound and excellent, thd statement was madd.that in the case of a baptized person who has com-mitted a mortal sin, perfect contritionrestores grac~becausg. it"contains a desire for the Sacrament of Penance. Thii' is-,. not.the correct explanation. It is true, 0f cogrse, that, in~ the case ~eferred to, perfect-Contrition must cbntaih at ldast an.~ implicit intention of, going tO ~onfession; otherwise it would be a means 0f salvation entirely independen~ o['the sacrament and would excuse us entirely from God's pre-. cept. of confessing ,the mortal sins committed after baptism. But this intention to receive the sacrament is not th~'dispp-sition that gives perfect contrition its'special ~cacy. Even i~pe.rfect contrition must contain such an intention. ~ The real reason~ ~hy perfect contritign instantly re-~ stores gr~ce to the soul, even before we go to confession;- is to Be found,in its motioe. Perfect contrition is motivated gy charity. The sinner turns to God with peifect~ove; and God repays lord with love. As ou~ Ldrd ~old us, God takes up His abode with those who love Him. " ~e are often asked if it i~ di~chlt for one who h~s~ s~nned mobtally to make an act o~ perfect contrition. .In -an~werifig the questio~ We must h~ve regard for.several points. !n the'first place, ndith~ p~rfect nor imperfect trition ca.lls for a definite degre~ of intensity or r~quiies-any~ Septerr~ber, 1944 " ARE YOU SORRY FOR YOUR SIN~? certaln amount of time. ~n t~e o[her han~, bo[h kinds~of. con[rifion mus[ con[ain an app~eciaffon or~ p~eferenc~ of God which entirely excludes the w~ll to commi~ mortal sin: In" 0[h~ words, ~he con[rile sinner mus~ prefer God [o ady~ p~rsgnal_safisfac[ion [ha[ would con~ic[ ~ith God'd ~riend-s~. This disposifion~is required in all contrition for:mor- [al ~in; and i~is enough, even for perfec[ contrition. emphasize the fact that it is enoUgh, because I believe th~ ~'the.~mpress~6n is.'somet~m~s g~ven that .perfect contrition must exclude all attachment to sin. This impression is not a~curate. Perfect contrition admits of degrees. lowest-~degree contains the ~ preference for God "over any~- .th~ng that conflicts .with h~s friendship; and th~s does not necessarily exclud~ a~t~chm~nt to venial sin.- In assisting-- d~ing sifiners, it seems advisable to begin w~th the lowest degree. After g~v~ng them ~h~ motive for perfect co~tr~- t~on~of which we shall speak in a moment~get tBem to repent of their mortal s~ns and to,resolve never again to s~n mortal'ly. If they have this disposition, ~h~y have what ~s strictly necessary for "loving God above all things," for lov~ng God "with their whole heart, their Whole soul, and .~their whole mind." Having, helped them to th~s essential d~spos~t~on, one can then try to "go higher,"~that ~s,~ to. ~instill sor~ow.fo~ venial s~n and even to incite a desire~ fo~ ~erfect.conform~ty to the will of God in all thin~s. Under manyaspects, therefore, an act of perfect con-tntlon is notmore di~cult than imperfect contrition. The di~cul.ty, in so far as there, is a di~culty, lies ih the one ele~ ment that distinguishes perfect contrition from imperfect: namely, in the motioe. Perfect contrition springs ~from ~eharity ;" ond charity is the love of God "for His own sake" ~an unselfish, disinterested love, To 10ve God for His bwn sake should not be~ di~cult for anyone who reall,y ~know? God: that is, for one ~ho has cbme t6 appreciate 33~ ~ER/~I~D KELLY" - .Re'uie~ £or ~eh'g'ious ~h~ough prayer that°God is go~d and !ovabie; but "~or those_ Who have given little'thought to God, the case is proba.~l~ different:-They need to make some consideration" thal~ will sh~w ~themthat God is really worth loving for His own sake. A ra.ther simple.;ccay of l~elping a sinner to arrive at the -motive necessary for perfect contrition is to g.et him to ,reflect on Christ Crucified. In the opiStufe of our Lord on the Cross we have a very .graphic portrayal of God'os love for us. AppreciatiOn of this fact-begets gral~itude soul;, and it is an easy step from gratitude to perfe~:t love, that is, to the love of charity.St. John, the great apos.tle of charitji,, told us to foll6w this path. from gratitude to charity when he said.:. "Let us therefore love God, .because~ God first hath loved us" (I ,John '~: 19)~. St. Paul's.gr~eat --personal love ol~ our. Lord sprang., from an appre.ciation of the tremendous fact expressed in his Words: "He loved rile and deli~rered himself up for me.'.' St. Francis Xavier's° great prayer of love (0 Deus, Ego Arno Te) is a poeti~. expressio.n of the words of St. John and of St:Paul.~ S(. Ignatius, in his. "Contempla'tion for Obtaining Love," uses. the same psychology: he takes us 'from gratitude perfect, unselfish, disinterested love. First we count the_ ~ gifts of G6d to us, and, seeing their iaumberarid.their val~e, we are deeply grateful;,then, thriju.gh the gifts, which are so good, we rise t6 the consideration of.the infinite goodness. _ of the Giver. -When we say that perfect contrition is motivated by charity, and,that ctiarity.is the love of God forHis'~swn-sake, we do not mean. that perfect- contrition exclude~ all other mot.ives. It is_quite Eroper:for us to be grateful fO God for his benefits, to ~desire to enjoy the happiness of" heaven, tO fear the punishments of hell, and so forth. iuch truths furnish motivation for sorrow for sin; and the} _ 338 -- September, 1944 _ " " ~ " ~ "ARE YOU SORRY FOR YOUR SZNS o~", ~an exist'in the soul together .with the motive for perf&t ¯ : ~ " Imp'effect Contritidn Perfect dbntriti6n "isindeed e.xcellent; but we should -. not overlook the value of imperfect contrition. Imperfect -x6.n.trition is not enough of itself to do away witl~' mortal sin; yet eveh for those in the state of mortal, ~in it is very~ - . profitable. It disposes them togo ,an act Of perfect contrition, and in confessionit is a suffb cient disposition for absolution. ; As for. venial sins,~ theologians commonly, teach that ii~perfet~ contrition is enough for their remission outside ~ ~. of confessibh.~ Hence, those who. have only venial sihs-on their s0ul nee'd not be particularly solicitous about their motives-when, they make an act of contrition;any one of the many possible supernatural motives for detesting their sins will be a suffi'cient basis for a fruitful act of contrition. Elements of All Contrition "It is:of little' ~vai[ to consider the necessity and kinds of ~ontrition, if one's notion of contrition itself is not clear; hence it will be worth our wb~le to return to the first sen-tence of this article. I indicated there that, according to ¯ the Council of Trent, all contrition contains three ifi~red.i- 'ents: detestation, grief, and purpose of amendment. And, of course, as a prerequisite to any act of contrition, there-must be tbe~realization that one has done wrong. -Hence, ev,ery act of contrition.includes in some way, four psycho-logicalsteps: owe realize t~at w~ have sinned; we detest w.hat'we did; we grieve ove~ it; and _we.resolve to amei~d. I should not want to encourageanyone to be technical . in l~is prayers; yet I think that we can all profit by occa- . .sipnal.ly taking apart an 'act of~c~ntrition by thinking over" the me,aning of each of-these psychological steps, and by 339 1. ~GER/(LD KELLY' ,_ ~, Review for Reli~l~ous oactu~i!ly mfikirtgthe'steps-slowlyand prayerfully. In the -subsequent paragraphs, my purpose'is to offer some explg~ _nations and sugg.e, st!ons that might be an aid to one who wants to m~ke ~n act of contrition meditatively. Perhaps I ought to preface .mY ~ema~ks with a brief statement con~cer.ning their doctrinal val~e. Tl'ie Church_ -has mad_e it quite clear that an hct of contrition must t~in-c~rtain elements; but she has let~t the detailed explana-tion of these elements to her theologians. I have drawn rny~ _explanations f.rp_m the works of eminent theologians; yet I realize that on some points the theological_literature is, somewhat obscu.re and that differences of opinion~are pe'~- missible. In all cases of obscurity or uncertainty, I have aimed to limit my sugges.tions, to what is safe and prac-ticable. R~alization When v~e make an act of contrition we have .to be c~a- "scious of the fac~ that we ourse.lves have done evil. This ° ~upposes, of course, a speculative appreciation of the evil ., of sin; but.it does~not stop with mere speculation. The ~ purpose of the realization which precede~s and motivates the act of contrition is to get the sinner to turn away from his~ ow_n sins, with grief and a purpose of amendment. There-fore, it is well to begin a meditative act of contrition with .a conscx0u.sness of one s own sins. This d~es not ne.cess_arily" mean a detailed examination of conscience; but it does imply at least ~i general recalling of one's sins. -- In our catechism books' we say that an ~ct of contrition~ must~ be suoerna.tu~al: th_at is, it must be made wi~b God's grace and. it must be based bn a motive drawfi from~ ~-evelatiori. We may takefor granted that God gives",the grac.e, but we ourselves, have to,s,upply the supernatural motive by considering our sins in the light of some revealed 340 ,State'bet, 1944 , ~ AR~ YOU SORRY FOR YOURSINS~ [ruth. Am6ng,t~e many [~uths t~a~ h~Ip to show,us the e~i!;0f~our sins,, I might suggest the following. Tbe jogs of beaoen, or tbe oai~s~of bell: These are directly applicable to mortal sin, because mortal sin depr~ves us of' our righ~ to heaven and makes us deserving of hell. But the thoughf of heaven can als0 be abplied venial sin because, after all, the/e are degrees of ~lory~in heaven, an~d venial sin kdeps us from attai~ng a higher ~ degree'of glory. EVen the thought of hell can be used as a motive for repenting of venial sin,' because by. commitdn~ ~ vernal sins we might form habits that would lead to mortal ~ sin or_ we might lose certain special g?aces that would at _,times be. necessary in order ~o overcome serious temptfi--~ ,tibns. And, of course, a consideratibn of purgatory,, especially as a painfu~ delay in reaching~ur heavenly h6me, ' "is directly appl:icable to venial sire Tbe Olories o~ sa~ati~i~g ~tace: Grace makes our Souls ,,.beautiful in the ~yes of God; it makes us His adopted chil, .~dren, tharers in His nature, heirs to His happiness. Mortal sin loses this priceless possession for us; venial sin, though - it does not. affect the grace in our. s6uls, represents a~ lost opportunity to grow in grace. Tbe Passio~ o~ 6at Eord: This furnishes fine motiva- ~i0n ~or sorrow for either mortal or venial ,sin. And the same ma? be said-f6r any aspect of our Lord's life, because . everything we know about Him is~ calculated to. increase our admiration andlove of Him and thusshow us by contrast ~. the mefinness of our failure to live according to ~the pattern "'He has given Us. Tbe~doctrine of tbd Redemotion and of our Oa~f i~ itS" God has united us in such a way that_we can help one another ~n the w~y of sai~ation and sanctification. ~n ap~reciafion of this~'truth and of its tremendou~ imp)ica-tion~ gives us a new light on sin:- it.is n0f onlE harmful to ,V ourselves; it is a:refusal.to cooperate ~n~a glOrious-cause.-:,. ~, The ~divine wis~bm hbd2~ood~:~ Prdp~rly~under-stood, ~ this is the most all-embracing and fundafien:tal ~afid, ~I-might ~d, the simplest of motives for ~ detesting sim~ It ~ takes us back to the ohe reason why we and thiswhole world exist at all: namely, to share in the divine goodness"~ according to the ;nfihitely wise plan of God Himself. - By Sin~ we do what we can to thwart His plan; we voluntarily prevent Him from ~iving Hi~self to us as He wishes to ~do~" Ddtestation The whole purpose of meditating on~ ohe of the~ fore-going ~t?uths, or on some similar revdaled truth, is to pre-pare the soul for a~ act of contrition. In~the actor con, trifion itself, tb~ first step is detestation. ~. ~ ~ ~ ; ~ Theologians generally agree, I.believ~, that, as a distinct element-in~ the act of contrition, ~detestation refers.~to the~ p~st. The sinner goes back, so ~o speak, on the a~t that h~> peLformedtand deliberately, chooses to do just the opp~sit~ from what he did when he sinne~. In sinning,,he chose.hi~ o~n will to God's Will; now Ee turns away from his for-mer choide and unites his will to God's will. - " E~idently we cannot undo an act that i~ dong. ~ We;an ,make reparation fdr it; we can.pay damages; we can some-. times ~top it~ effects;, but the fact that" act was performed cghnot be changed. The best that we~can do ~ith~regard to the past act-is to wish we had not done it. "And'that seems~to be-the most apt way khat'we can deScrib~ detesta- 5ion of sinf it is a deliberate wish:that the act'had not been p~rformed. ,- ~ _". " It'is probabl~ not advisable, in making ~ meditative act of contrition, to spend a great deal of time on tgis point. There~ is no direct way of testing an ifiterio~ disposi;tidn such as'detestation, and we are likely to be disturbed, e~e~ _ ~ ~, . - _ T~ ~,S~p,~ember0 1944 ~. _ '-~'ARE YOU ~0RR~ FOR YOUR SINS? . ' ~:ofrightened',~ ,by our, sen~-tove and'- self=love. ~For-'th'ese o " Causes of sin are just asstrong a.s the were. wiaen the'sin ~ "was performsd and they keep. telling us that they liked the sin and.that,they are glad it happened. Hence, if we'dwel[. ~,= long oh this point, we areapt to think that we have no con- ~trition, at all. It is better to make a simple act'of the will: ';~ " ,,"BeCause I n6w see the evil that I did, I wish I had not --~ committed it"; and then. go on to the ndxt point. In prac-tice, we can~ take for granted that we have the )equired " - --~ ,--~d~testation if we have the realization, grief, and purpose ¯ "of amendment. . Grief of Soul ¯ ~" ~ Tile blessed, in heaven can detest their sins but they can-not griev~ o~er them. "i~he reason for this is that grief .Supposes the presence of an evil, and the sins of the blessed-are merely past acts, ttie evil effects o~ which have all been ~emoved ~= With us, th~ case is different." For instance, when a man co .mmits.a mortal sin, his ~oul immediately becomes an, . ~'~ Object of re, proach before God. .This is an evil effect of sin "~ ~over which he can certainly grieve. After the man makes a o""~ood confession, he can have a reasonable assurance that he~ has regained God's friendship, but h~ is not sure that'a11 effects of his sin are removed. There may be some tern, ¯ poral ptinishn~ent~ to ,undi~rgo; there mas} be some weak~: : "hess in the sofil, Some special liability to sin, thaf results ~ro~ his former sin.Because of the possibility that such ,._e~il effects may continue, we~,can griev~ over our sin~all t_hr0ugh our lives, because this possibility keeps the sins ~)'present to us at least in some sense. . ~. Perhaps the best way to describe the grief of soul which constitutes the second element of contrition is to"say that. -o jt'il a desire to get.rid of, tO shake off, the effects of our sins; ~ERALD KELLY " ' + ¯ " -Rem'e t+o °/: "o +r Religious. b&ause-- we- realize that m these effects our detestable +sins sti+il:cling to us. , We have~ to remind good people again and again that grief over sin-is not fiecessarily a matter of feeling. To~ u~e - an illustration, let us suppose that two men get, their hands:.,+ and arms cgyered with.m, qd. The firs~ man likes mtid ahd lqeenjoys being covered with it; the secon'd man does .like it. Then suppose that +while.they are covered" wi+~h~the+ ' mud they find oul~ tha(.this particular mud is very harmful to ttie skin." Both of them immediately try. to wash it bff, _ The example illustrates the difference betw+en acci~ dental grief and essentialgri+ef. On!y one of. the.men had a ~ +feelin9 of' repugnance for tlhe mud, yet both of+ them" tried to bedrid of it when they fbund it wa~s harmful. Sb Jr'is with+ Sorrow for sin. To feet-grief over the effects of sin is good, and may even be called an accidental perfection of dontri~" tion'; but theessential thing "is.to want" to be ¯rid of the.e~,i]. ¯ The besl~ exl~ression of grief, therefor)e, is'n61~ tears, but the sincere will to go to confession, to make.an act ~of per-fect contrition, to gain.indulgences, to repair an. injury dorfe' ~, .~to one's neighbor, to accept some hardship willingly in+ re16aration for one's sins, to¯ do some voluntary penahce' for the same purp?se, and so forth. ' These ale the means of: ~dbing away with the effects of our sins; hence, the will to ~do ~uch things is a tangible, way of showing ourselves that we are sorry, no matter how _we feel. Purpose of Amendment ._ ++. Purpose of'arr;endment, though by no mean~ the whole - of contrition, is 'a very important part of it, and probably~ tile best practical proof of it. No_one can have real contri-~ tion unless he intends to "amend" his lifd, but as" ~hi~ "amen "ament~ can have diffeient meanings for~ differefit ~cases; it may be well for us to consider some examplesdr ",8el~(ember, i944 . k ~ ~ ARE YOU SORRy_ FOR YOUR SINS-t these var"ia t"ions. Suppose .that a man who ha~ committed mort.ai gins sinc~ his last confessibn now wants to regain the state of "grace. W~hether he goes to confession, or makes an act-of perfect contrition with the intention of'goirig to confession, he must' certainly be besolved to "amend", his life. And ~ince ¯ his~c0ntr~tion concerns mortal sinsl hispurpose of amend-ment must be really absolute: tha.t is, he~ must intend to - avoid all mortal sin in the future. He would have tohave the same uncompromising r~solutidn, even if he had. com-imitted~ only one mortal sin. The "purpose of_sinni.ng no .more" applies quite literally tO the'case,of mortal sin. On the other hand, suppose the case of a man who has committed only venial sins since hi~ last confession, but . W.ho now- wishes to make an act of contrition for all h~s venial sins because he wants to'gaifi a plenary indulgence. .What kind of purpose.of amendment'must this man have? "The question is not easy to answer with perfect satisfac- ' tionf but it seems safe to say that it is sufficient for him if fie~.retains no attachment'toany venial sins (in the sense . that he intends to continue to commit t/'2ose Sins) and that he has at least a general intention to improve, for example, o' "~ by reducing the number of his venial sins. We mighi add that it is generally recommended that °such a man should -center his purpose of amendment, on the correction of some-~. thing definite. This recommendation is given ~becausel .experience teaches us that a general purpose o~ amendrfient ~,~is likely to prove ineffective "and that the act .of iontrition ih such' a case is ap.t to degenerate into a mere fobr~ula,~,a bit of wishful thinking, and.nothing more. ~, ~ ' ~ ~'A third case: A man has committed only ve'nial.sins since his last confession,, and he knows that be really" is not contrite for some of these sins: yet be'does wish to make a fiind~re act'of contrition" for 6ne kind of sin: for exa.mplq, 345 ~ ¯ GERALI~ KELLY ~ - ~i~iew ~br Religious iying.~ What must be this man's p~rpqse of amendment? ~.- Again, the case is not~asy fo s01~e with perfect satisfactions: but it seems Safe to give this practical~ rule: Ifthe man's lies -are of the ~ull~ ~libecate kind, he ought to'be resolved avoid them entirely; bfit if-the lies are rather.qn the~semi~ deliberate side~. ~he ought at least to have the good will try to reduce their number. In ~he'foregoing cases,-"amendment, of life'~ was used in. its ordiflary, everyday sense: tfiat is~. ~s an impfove~en¢ over one's recent Conduct. 'There is a fourth case, in which the expression,.e~idently has a different, meaning.: sj[der, for example, the holy K~ng David. _He offended God~ seriop~ly; then_he repented of that sin, was_forgiven, as far as we know, lived many years in the friendship, of God. Yet he continued to recite his Miserere for his past ' lapse fr6m grace. I.t would be absurd to think that this Miserere was-not a good act of cpntrition; but if it was " an-act ofcontrition, in what- did the amendment cod~ist? It ~eems obvious that "amendment"-. in such circumsta~e~ .has a wide meaning:~ that.is, it refers to the renewed pur-pOSe of continuing the reform that had begun Years ag6> The case of David is repeated week after-week iK our confessionals throughout the world. People sin~ mortally in their youth; they confess the~e sins, and then live.for-mony~ years without'furthe} serious lapses. Yet these peo- , p1~, can certainly make acts. of contrition for the "bld": mortal., sins;' in fact, they are e~n advised to i.nclude t~ese -sins in their.confessions io that they may benefit more and more by theabsolution. In their case, as ih David s,.the ~ purpose of amendment-for their mort~l sins d0~sno~ redan. :~ an_ intention to correct their present .lives, but" rather- the. renewed purpose to persevere in the amendment.th#t has, 10rig ~ince beefi brought about. The examples illustrate the various aspects ~of and 346 " ,'~':. September, 1944" - - ARE YOU SORRY FOR Y~)UR SINSt ~ requisit~ for ~u~pose of amendmefit. In our own case, ~when we m'ake an act-of contrition, we shall-, generally find a combination of these examples. We have sins of the past, "for .which it is sufficient to.renew our purpose of amend-r~ en~, and°retent sifts which" call" for real amendmen, t o and '~"~ defiriite resolutions. ~" " _ ~We sa~ that the, f.eelings sometimes present a p~ycho-.- °logicaldifficul~y in estimating detestation and grief.- Some- ~"°~hing ,~imilar can happen .wi.th regard.to purpSse of amend- "-~ ment, parti[ul~rly when ha,bitual sins of frailty are in.- '~yol~red. The sinner realizeshis w~akn~ss and, e~ien-.when he makes~ his act of contrition or goes to con'fession,, he "'~feels,sure" that he is going to sin again. Because of thi~, ,.he wonders if he really has a purpose of amendment. . ~"fh~ ,solution to the difficulty lies in a.proper under- ~- standing 6f~a purpose of amendment. I~ is not an act' of ~' the ~ind, but_of the will. It is a sincere.intention to try to dmend; and to take the means necessary.for doin~ that. .::'" ,The"'f.e~ling ~hat one will sin again" may result, not from any" ill~ will, but from the consciousness-that one is weak -~ and that this weakness has expressed itself again and again. Nevertheless, there is no weakness that cannot be Overcome by.serious effort and the grace'of God: Even the most habitual sinner can,,,resolve to make the effort, and he may 'il~ei iure that GSd will give ttie grace. And ,he should not "be ~li~scou.raged if he ~does fall again; ,this may simply be a -~ sign that he h~s not 'yet discovered the proper means for, correcting his particular bad habit. Sometimes people think, that all .they need to do to°~ oirercome bad habits is to go to the sacraments frequently. This'is only one. aspect of the solu[ion. It will ne~ver work unle.ss the sinner ~akes the more obvious means of avoiding "-occasions of sin, of exercising himself in self-control, and~ ~ sd forth 347 K~:LLY~,. ¯ ~ .,. ~ GERALD . . :- ~ " My afialysis of the act of contrition has been lofig.-Yet I.hop-e it ~cbntgins some helpfUl.suggestions. "~In pa~?ticular2 I think that many would find it fruitful to make a medi-tative act of contrition o~casionall) for example, ,during the morning'meditation on confession day. ~The Cl~urch evidently wants us to draw gre~t profit from frequent fe~ssion; and for.this there.is no m~ans more. effective tha~n~. an increase in contrition. ~" o BOOKLE-rs H~cmn and Psalm~ to Our Lad~l is the title of a: handy little, pamphlet containing "an, English translktioa of the Te" Matcem De/ Laadamus and the "5 Psalms" honor Of Ou~ Lady. Readers who are interested tanget the booklet fr,6mothe erend d,ude Senieur, O.F.M.Cap.0 Capuchin College, Brookland, Washington D.C. The pamplet is sold for the cost "of printing and mailing: individual copies 5 cents each; lots of 25 or more at greatly reduced rates. MV Particialar Ex~men Book is a tiny pamphlet containing many~helpful sug-.,.~ gestions concerning the pa,rticular,examen.and a.numbeE of ruled pages.for marking th~ examen. It is published by- the Franciscan Sisters of the Perpetual Adoration.~ ~t. Rose Convent, La Crosse, ,Wisconsin'. The, booklet began ~s a prtvate com-munity project, but the Sis[ers are now offering it to-other groups of religiotis prac2 tically at cost ($3.00 a hundred) in order to stimulate the use of the particular~ -'xamen as an important nieans of spiritu,al advancement. "Anal~lsis of the. New Testament, by. Cyril Gaul. O.S.B. An excellenL booklet. the fruit of m~ny years of teaching Scripture at St.~, Meinrad's Seminary. In accbrd with Pius X's Qaoniarn i~ re Biblica, the author has provided seminarians with an analysis of the various New'Testament books which all priests and ~he laity will welcome. 77 pages. Price: ~40 cents a copy, postpaid; 4 fol $1.00. Address: SL Meinrad Historical Essays, St. Meinrad. Indiana. ' 348 ~XINT DOMINIC,.AND HI~ WORK. By fhe Reverend Pierre Mandon-net, O.P~ Translated by Sister Mary Benedic÷a Larkln,.O.P.~ Pp.~xvlll ~- 487. B. Herder Book Co., Sf~ Louis, 1944. $S.00. -~ : According to a contemporary account, "the Blessed" Dominic w~as of medium height and of slight build. His Countenance was;hand-some:, of fair complexion, with light auburn hair and beard and. lt~minous eyes. A~kind of radiance shone from his br6~. inspiring love and reveren.ce in,all. Full of joy, he seemed e~rer ready to smile, unlesS, moved to ~pity by the affliction of his neighbor. His hands were long and shapely; his voice itrong,, noble and sonorous. He n~ever was bald, and his corona was complete, sprinkled with:~a few white hairs." Along withthis ratherpleasing exterior; he possessed al,so ver, y exceptional interior gifts of'mind, heart, and Will. And if to this~be added,his life-long faithful correspondence with "so many extr~ordina~ry graces, even.mystical ones, we have tl~e man of action Of whom Pierre Mandonnet, O.P.,-a historian df repute, could say: ]'You may quote'me whenever you wish. I consider Saint Dominic as a religibus founder the greatest o~ganizer that ever trod this earth after~the Lord Jesus Christ." To decide whether, or not that jUdg-ment is true requires a careful re~ding of this volume. It is a little~ Summa of Dominican brigins. ~" . P~re Mandonnet once jotted down on a slip of paper: "T0.re~d." :jo.y; to think, delight; .to write, torture." The last three" wor, d.s may be a par~tial explanation why the present work was far from com-i~' le}ed" when he'died in 1936.- But'he had done ~he reading and'the thi_nking, indeed, a. great deal of both: and he had outlined the chap-ters unit had written,some of them. Fortunately, he had competent ¯ disciples and co-workers. Orie of these, Marie-Humbert Vicair~e, O.P., ~ orghnized the .copious material gathered over many.years, and' sup-plement'ed it with critical notes and studies of his own. Anotpey,. Reginald Ladn~r, O.P., contributed a.do~umentedt.background chap-teron the plight of preaching in the twelfth c~ntury. The result is a book, pi~blished in 1939,somewhat lacking in unity and coherence, but substant~ally P~re Mandonnet s, both as to content and arran~e-~ ment. The contributions~.of Vicaire and Ladner are signed by-them, gut this is not noted in the'table of contents, as it should be. , 349 BOOk KEVIEWS _ . ~ Review.for Reli~.lio!is - ¯ Tile~bobl~-is d.ivided into tWO parts. The first part'presents the bis.~orical .setting, sketches tl~e iife of Saint Dominic, and develops at "length .his arduous l~bors in~fgunding and organizing the Order of. ¯ Preachers. Ciearly seen is thehand of Divine Providence, raising up a new Orderto meet the p~culiar religious needs of the times. In the early'thirteenth century,, the gradual coll~p~ of the old feudal s~rstem an~l the growing prominence of the towns a~ad communes brought about a changed order of things. The lower clergy, for the ~ost p_art ignorant and untrained, was too slow adapting itself to the altered situation. T, he bishops were more occupied w~th temporaht~es than" with tlSeir apostolic duty of preaching the .word of God: 5As-a ~ cdns~quence, the faithful, especially in the towns, began to drift away "frOm the Churchqnto heresies and schisms of various kinds. There,. ~was pressing need for an instructed clergy and for preachers of the Gospel. Saint Dominic, the zealous and learned sub-prior~ of the ¯catl~edrai'chapter of O~ma in Spain; was the man of Providence. was chosen~by Innocent the Third to found an Order qf poor priests~' -whose task would 15~ to preach to the people and to teach theology to ~ti~e clerics; in~brief,~"to contemplate and to give to others the fruits of contemplation." It was Dominic's Order that v/as to play such an important and successful. ~ole in carrying out the objectives ~of the- -Fourth Lateran Council~"the reform of the Church, the refor.rn of morals, the extirpation of heresy, and the strengthening "of the" Faith." Ma.y we not say that the Friars Preachers have never ceased ~_ doing, just that? ,The" second part of the book is" concerned with the Rule of Saint Augustine and its relation to the Rule of Saint Dominic. P~re.Mari~ donnet se.edas to have proved .his point: namely, that the Dominican riales and. constitutions,are, an organic development of the second. the,three 'rules of:Sainv Augustine, and. not, as-wfis though_Ufor,~a ~ ¯ lpng time, of the tliird, the famous Epistle.to certain religious women. The .second Rule is that primitive.Rule followed by a com~mentary" .which gaint,)~ugustiiae drew up in 391 for his first community~ of men. This study reveals, the'hand of a master,historian aiad is the most valuable section of the whole work. COncluding the~book-by way of appendices are five important "h'iDstoomriicnai lc astnueds,i"e s",w .aotnceh doof gwsh oicf hth dei sLcoursds.e's.' t Fheiv oer sigimini loafr tshteu deixeps~re~s sbiuotn~- of'a.more restricted and technical nature, l~ave been omitted from the., Efigl~ish e~liti0n. There_is

I The College Mefcufy. VOL. IV. GETTYSBURG, PA., OCTOBER, 1896. No. 6. THE COLLEGE MEfiCURY, Published each month during the college year by the Students of Pennsylvania (Gettysburg) College. STAFF. Editor: ROBBIN B. WOLF, '97. Associate Editors : LEWIS C. MANGES, '97. ED. W. MEISENHELDER, SAMUEL J. MILLER '97. CHARLES T. LARK '98. JOHN W. OTT, '97, CHARLES H. TILP, '98. E. L. KOLLER, '98. Alumni Association Editor: REV. D. FRANK GARLAND, A. M., Baltimore, Md. Business Manager : HARRY R, SMITH, '97. Assistant Business Manager: JOHN E. MEISENHELDER, '97. -TWT,™,. /One volume (ten months), . . . $1.00 1ERMS-\Slngle copies, 15 . Payable in advance. All Students are requested to hand us matter for publication. The Alumni and ex-members of the College will lavor us by sending information concerning their whereabouts or any items they may think would be interesting for publication. All subscriptions and business matters should be addressed to the business manager. Matter Intended for publication should be addressed to the Editor. Address, THE COLLEGE MERCURY, Gettysburg, Pa. CONTENTS. EniTORIALS, • - -- .".-.-- 82 A SUGGESTION, - - - - - 84 LIST OF NEW STUDENTS. - - --- 84 COLLEGE LOCALS, -- - - - - - ' - - -85 THE PENNSYLVANIA CHATAUQUA, - - - - - 89 ALUMNI NOTES, .--89 TOWN AND SEMINARY NOTES, 92 FRATERNITY NOTES, .-.--.---93 LITERARY SOCIETIES, --.-.--94 ATHLETICS, - 95 EDITORIAL. WELCOME ! boys of 1900. Words more fit-ting to open the first column of this issue, could not be found. So much enthusiasm in the reception of a class has not been shown since the advent of the class of '93. Seniors, Juniors and even "those Sophs" vie with each other in saluting the Freshmen. We welcome them because of their number, their manly ap-pearance and finally their gentlemanly de-meanor. Their memorable battles with the Sophomores are over. The war was conducted on the same lines as last year, viz: the banner fight and the class rush. The history of the banner fight is brief. The Sophomores hung theirs on a high sycamore on the campus and surrounded the tree. The Freshmen raised their banner on the college cupola and blocked the stairway. Great excitement ensued. Each class fixed their eyes on the enemy's flag and recognized the impossibility of capturing it. The struggle, as usual, ended with Dr. Mc- Knight and Gov. coming on the scene and re-moving both flags. It is about time for this child's pla}r to stop. The class rush was, beyond a doubt, won by the Freshmen. The Sophs were completely out-numbered and they could not keep to-gether as well as the enormous mass of Fresh-men. This, too, is a practice that could be dispensed with. Several boys came near losing their lives. One of them, a good foot-ball man, sustained a compound fracture of the collar bone. Often neither class bears off a de-cisive victory and even when the victory is de-cisive, it amounts to nothing. The classes had much better show their superiority to one another by base-ball and foot-ball games. * * * THE foot-ball season is again here and that 83 THE COLLEGE MERCURY. with far better prospects than we had last year. Several very heavy men fill up the vacancies in the lines created by the exit of the class of '96, and some strong active men the places be-hind the line. Nearly all our good players were graduated in '96, but the captain, man-ager and last but not least, "the trainer," are doing faithful work to put a victorious team into the field. For only the second time in the history of Gettysburg foot-ball we have a trainer. Nothing is more essential to success in foot-ball than to have a graduate from one of the university teams drill our eleven. Who-ever the captain may be, he is looked upon by the players as one of themselves and they fail to render implicit obedience, but they readily listen to the coach because they recognize his superior knowledge of the game. Mr. Best, the coach, hails from Mechanicsburg, Pa. He played left end and end rusher on the Lehigh University team for two years and not only bucked up against some very strong teams, but also had the advantage of training under such coaches as Graves, Heffelfinger and Hartwell. He possesses all the attributes of a good trainer and the effects of his work are fast becoming manifest. Mr. U. A. Jump, the former coach, brought out the best team we have ever had and doubt-less Mr. Best will do equally well. IT is humiliating to chronicle the fact that one of the students has turned thief. During the class rush one of the Freshmen had sixty-nine dollars of hard earned money stolen from his room. The thief was evidently acquainted with the room and its occupant and since he took the money and left a gold watch, we are forced to the painful conclusion that it was one of our own number. The student body has taken the matter in hand and will do every-thing to detect and punish the scoundrel. There have always been boys in college who stole books, stick-pins, etc., but this is the first considerable robbery that has ever occur-red. The business staff of the MERCURY is con-strained to give the subscribers a broad hint about the payment of their dues. We do not mean that you should pay for several 5'ears in advance, but pay your back dues. A few sub-scribers are in arrears for three years. If you continue delinquent after kindly advice, we shall have to use a more effectual method. * * * ALL new students should subscribe for the MERCURY, and not only should they subscribe for it, but they should give it their support all around. Hand in some article of interest to students or alumni, or forsooth a few verses of poetry. The paper is published solely by the students and all members of that body are ex-pected to give us their hearty co-operation. * * * COLLEGE never opened under more favor-able auspices. Sixty-one were enrolled as Freshmen, while two men joined the Sopho-more class and one the Junior. The dormi-tory is literally filled to the brim. The Pre-paratory Department also opened with a larger number than ever before. A list of the new boys will be found on another page. * * * AT a recent meeting of the Athletic Asso-ciation, it resolved upon pwe athletics. This was brought about by the refusal of Dickinson and other colleges to play with us as long as we had outside men on our teams. It is an excellent move on the part of the boys and cannot be too highly appreciated. Ever since the advent of inter-collegiate athletics, we have had non-collegiate men on our teams, and while they strengthened the teams, they put a damper to the college spirit. Students refused to support a team which was not a college team and the athletic interest was rather low. The movement was not intended as a slight to the town boys who have helped us win many games, but was simply to meet the demands of our sister colleges. THE COLLEGE MERCURY. 84 A SUGGESTION. The small attendance at the Alumni meet-ings of the past three or four years has forced itself upon the notice of the General Associa-tion and caused the appointment of a commit-tee to devise a more popular entertainment for those who revisit their Alma Mater. It is un-fair to able speakers to ask them to prepare careful addresses and then confront them with thin audiences in Brua Chapel. Perhaps a formal and more distinctly social affair would have better chances of success. I have a pro-posal to offer which may be taken for what it is worth. The plan is substantially that which has been incorporated at Yale University. The thing essential to good fellowship is a dinner, or cold lunch, not expensive, but suf-ficient to constitute a comfortable repast. It ought to be at an hour near enough to the usual hour of dinner to take the place of that meal. One o'clock immediately after the com-mencement exercises, or possibly after the ora-torical contest would be a suitable time. The day on which most graduates from abroad can be present should be chosen. First of all should come the graduates seated by classes and assigned to places of honor ac-cording to seniority of degree. Those who have received honorary degrees should, of course, be included. The members of the Board should by all means be present, whether bearing degrees or not. Many of them are eminent benefactors of the college and their attendance could not but be inspiring. A few distinguished guests from outside would add in-terest and dignity to the occasion. The presiding officer should be either the President of the College or the President of the Board. He should have the privilege of calling for brief speeches from the best after-dinner speakers present. Special efforts should be made to encourage class reunions at the third, fifth, tenth, fifteenth, twentieth, and other quinquennial anniversaries. When once it is known that at these intervals one is cer-tain to meet a considerable number of his sur-viving classmates the motive for coming at such times will be very strong. At these re-unions each class might choose some one to represent them at the general alumni dinner and might notify the presiding officer to call upon them in their proper order. The tone of the speeches should be such as will conduce most to the good humor and gratification of those present. While the graver interests of the college need not be for-gotten they must not be intruded so as to in-terfere with the absolute enjoyment of the oc-casion, which should be, as far as possible, a time for renewing the care-free and generous associations of youth. It fell to my lot during the past summer to compile a brief history of the college. I was impressed as never before with the dignity and honorableness of its past, with the rank and respectability of its graduates, and with the extent and degree of its usefulness to many of the churches, to society and to the nation. More than a thousand men of power and dis-tinction, three-fourths of whom survive, are enrolled as graduates, while several thousand are indebted to it for less complete training. Surely it is worth while to strengthen by all proper means the tie that unites us and to give one another the encouragement that comes from the consciousnesss of union in a great in-stitution. J. A. H. LIST OF NEW STUDENTS. FRESHMEN. B. Baker, Lititz. R. Bechfol, Lockhaven. A. Bennett, Thurrnont. S. Bottiger, ITazelton. A. Brandt, Lebanon. E. Bregenzer, Baltimore, Md. F. Carver, Hanover. B. Cessna, Bedford. B. Claney, Allegheny. D. Clare, Abbottstown. T. Cole, Altoona. Dale, Lemont. N. Diehl, Cashtown. J. Dietrich, Frackville. C Dougherty, Gettysburg. W. Dress, Steelton, A. Dustman, Gettysburg. J. I. Humer, Middaghs. C. Hurst, Mechanicsburg. R. Z, Imler, Bedford. Miss A. M. Keith, Gettysburg.! Miss M. L. Keith, Gettysburg.! J. F. Knittel, Catawissa. F. E. Kalb, Allegheny. J. S. Kohler, Glenville. H. G. Koppenhafer, Millersburg. S. I. Lafferty, Altoona. W. G. Lawyer, Westminster, Md. J, C. McCarney, Arendtsville. J. G. Mcllhenny, Gettysburg. W. N. McNair, Middletown. J. C. Markel, Columbia. W. J. Miller, Philadelphia.! W. R. Miller, Friesburg, N. J. 85 THE COLLEGE MERCURY. R. H. Ebcrly, Mechanicsburg. H, D. K. Ebersole, Hummelstown. F. H. B. Ernest, Elizabethville. J. II. \V. Fahringer, Catawissa. A. Miss C. G. Frey, Gettysburg. E. W. Frey, York. W C. L. Gates, Gettysburg. M A. D. Gilbert, Friesburg. F. K. E. Good, Gettysburg. G. C. H. Gunter, Pierson, Fla. L. J. K. Hamaeher, Steelton. C. J. F. Hcilman, Harrisburg. W 8. A. Hitchner, Friesburg. G. C. Howard, Gettysburg. H. {Special. SOPHOMORES. W. R. Edwards, P. of Rocks, Md. W. J. Klinei'elter, Glenville. . W. Schwartz, Red Land. P. Shoup, Greensburg. L. A. Sieber, Gettysburg. T. Smith, Johnstown. S. Stalnaker, Hanover. , H. Stiefel, Allegheny. . Stock, Hanover. M. Traub, Bloomsburg. D. Weaver, Newry. A. Weigle, Mechanicsburg. Wendt, New York. , C. Williams, Gettysburg. C. Wisotzki, Gettysburg. N. Young, Anselma. JUNIORS. J. A. Singmaster, Allentown. PREPARATORIANS. Annrick, H. G., Koser. Annrick, J. B., Leffler, Buehler, Lightner. Miss Blocher, Loudon, G. W., Bordy, Loudon, C. B., Bower, Mehring. Burns, Miller, Miss Carrie Brown , McClean, Miss Cora Brown, Munro, Crouse, Key, Culler, O'Neal, Currens, Miss Peters, Deatrick, Peters, Miss Diehl, Perriod Evans, Renner, Eveler. Roscnsteel, Earnshaw, Swope, D., Easterday, Swope, C, Eckert, Stonesifer, Fredericks, Snyder,' Fite, Sharp, Gates, Miss Sieber, Grenoble, Taylor, Gladfelter, ■ Tawuey, Hageman, Trostle, Hegeman, J. L., Van Dorn.' Hegcrman, R. L., Miss Warner, Hoffman, Weber, Kahler, 'Miss Ziegler, Ziegler. COLLEGE LOCALS. EDMUND W. MEISENHELDER and E L. KOLLER, Editors. "Pearlie" says that we seniors study politi-cal economical. Mr. K., '99, asked Dr. M. whether he could be excused from taking German because he could converse in Pennsylvania Dutch. It has been learned from an ex-member of '99, that Mr. M., '96, is going "out there to the reverend school." For almost a week '99 had boasted of her physical powers. She had tired all the stu-dents with the boasts of what she would do to the "baby Freshies" in the class rush. On the night of Sept. 8th, different sounds were heard coming from the "Prep." campus. 1900, after some delay, had mustered together their forces and at 9.45 P. M. sent forth their }Tell of defiance. '99 responded in good time, and also with an almost full class. At no time during the evening was '99 in it, but they were pushed around the field from time to time, at the will of 1900 until about 11 o'clock, they decided to play "quits." We are sorry to add that during the course of the evening several men wore pretty badly hurt from being tram-pled upon ; but we are also happy to add that all are now recovered from their injuries. Dr. B., "How many declensions do we have in Latin ?" K., '99, "six." Mr. S., '97, Dr. there are cobwebs on the end of the telescope.'' Dr. N., "They must have come off of your brain." Dr. N., (to Mr. W., '97, who has been play-ing with some of the astronomical instruments) "Mr. W. you would make a good Freshman." Mr. L-, 1900 thinks that the foot-ball team is going to travel in style since he heard that they thought of getting a coach. Mr. C, '98, thinks that there is a certain Moral Freshness in "As You Like It." Prof. H., "Mr. K., do you know what a buss is?" Mr. K., '98, "No sir." "Kitzy" has forgotten it, that is all. He knew what it was at one time. Mr. H. '98, (in Latin) "I thought it meant to perpetrate the memory of the dead.'' Dr. B., "Doubtless you mean perpetuate." Mr. F., '98, thinks that the Sphinx of Egypt is a wasp. Mr. K., 1900, does not like the sulphur water he gets here. The Biological Course is at last a reality and we are glad to see such a large number of students take an interest in it. It is elective for those only who have the study of medicine in view, and the benefit derived by those from such a department is infinite. From the odors and sounds proceeding from THE COLLEGE MERCURY. 86 the room set apart for this purpose, it bids fair to excel our chemical laboratory. The MERCURY extends the heartiest wishes for the success of the department. Contrary to the usual custom of placing a class flag on the dormitory, '99 placed theirs in the top of a tall tree on the campus; giving for their reason for so doing that they did not care to have the college property injured in any way. "A poor excuse is better than none" and this departure from the time hon-ored custom was looked upon as a cowardly piece of work by the upper classmen, especially since one of the ' 99 class was stationed on the tree. This rendered the capture of the flag absolutel)' impossible. 1900 now ran up their flag on the top of the dormitory and uttered their cry of defiance, Neither class moved to tear down the ban-ner of the other and the whole affair was end-ed in a manner satisfactory to both by the ap-pearance of Dr. McKnight. As is the custom on these occasions, the Freshmen should have answered the challenge of the Sophomores instead of running up a flag of their own. Altogether it was a disgraceful proceeding from beginning to end. This college has had brought into its notice one of the most despicable deeds of which a collegeman is capable; the theft of money from a fellow student. This is the most cowardly act that has occurred for some time and the miscreant, if he is able to be found,-will and should be treated with the utmost severity. Such things must cease, since the property of no student is safe so long as there is a thief in their midst. We are glad to make note of Pearl's mous-tache. We were afraid that nobody else would. Pearl says "it is home-raised." The foot-ball team has again been organized and quite a number of new men are enrolled as applicants. A coach has been hired and the boys are working hard. Let those who do not play give the players their encouragement, for it is only by this means that the team will be a success. Our boys cannot win every game and we hope that the student body will realize this. Do not discourage the players with any unfavorable remark. Foot-ball is not play, but the hardest kind of work. Let class teams be organized, for class spirit makes college spirit and that is what we need most of all. This year's Freshman class is the largest in the history of the college, and we hope that among its numbers may be men who will do their utmost for the promotion of all college interests. Men are needed in the Y. M. C. A. in the societies, class-rooms and foot-ball field. Let each and every member of 1900 work his best in these departments. The class of '98 has always been and always will be a prominent factor in the history of this college. Her classical men have already started upon their scientific career, and won-derful discoveries are being made. The first one was made by Herbert, who discovered that Lab. matches can be ignited only on the box. The second was made by "Zim," who discovered that some of his Lab. supplies had mysteriously disappeared. The question in which most upper classmen are concerned is, "Who shall we bum for this 01 that since George L., '98, has left us? " The '98 Spectrum is now under way and contributions are solicited from the different classes. Every man in college, aside from general appeals for support to the students as a whole, should be personally and privately interested in the Spectrum. Let the Spectrum receive the hearty support of the classes, and we are sure that '98 herself will not forget the aid she has received and will, in turn, assist in every way possible succeeding Specbums. "Sister," '97, is preparing to astonish the the world with his new water cycle. The first attempt was not very successful, the only re-sult obtained being a suit of wet clothes. We would suggest that "Sister" wear a bathing suit when riding along a mill race. This would save him the trouble of borrowing another suit from an obliging farmer. One of the redeeming features of the new men is their extreme politeness. A Freshman unintentionally rubbed against a Soph, the night of the rush, and immediately begged his pardon. H., 1901, is also very polite. In the game at State College, he remarked to his opponent: I beg your pardon sir, but don't you know you daren't hold me? Y., 1900, on the return trip from State Col-lege thought he would ride on a pullman car. When the porter came round for the money, Y. told him he was traveling with the foot-ball team. THE MUSICAL ORGANIZATIONS.—We are 1 glad to see that the musical clubs have com- 87 THE COLLEGE MERCURY. menced work so early ; this is always an ad-vantage and insures good concerts all through the season. The clubs have practically the same members as last year—two having drop-ped out of the Octette. CLUB. Second Tenor, White, '97. GLEE First Tenor, Nicholas, '98. Ott, '97- First Basso. Second Basso. Roller, '98. Manges, '97. Lark, '98. VIOLIN QUARTET. Erdman,'98; Lark,98; Smith,'99; Manges,'97. The voices of a number of applicants for the Glee Club were tested recently and Armstrong, '97, for second tenor, and Lauffer and Mussel-man, '99, for second basso, were selected on trial. Mr. Manges, who so ably managed the clubs last year, was re-elected, and under his management there is no reason why the clubs should not have a brilliant and successful sea-son. POLITICS.—Just at this time, when there is so much discussion about Bryan and McKinley, Free Silver and Gold, the students of Gettys-burg College are manifesting their political views. Beginning with the first morning, and perhaps earlier, the Silverites with their Bry-an hats, were observed arguing earnestly with the Gold bugs. But, since the most conclu-sive argument is that of voting a "straw vote" was held, which resulted as follows :. McKinley, Bryan, Palmer, - Levering, - This shows pretty nearly the sentiment of the fellows, although this isn't exactly it, for quite a number agreed to vote for "Billy" Bryan "just for fun." THE Y. M. C. A. RECEPTION.—One of the pleasant things for the new men, and one that helps to relieve, or abate for the time be-ing, their homesickness, is the annual recep-tion to new Students, given under the auspices of the Young Men's Christian Association. This year it was held Friday evening, Septem-ber 4th, in Philo hall, and was well attended. Excellent addresses were made by Dr. Mc- Knight, Prof. Klinger and Dr. Huber. The second part—held in the historic ' 'sweat-box'' —seemed to attract most of the fellows. Ice cream and cake were served to all. It is an 108 34 18 10 excellent custom and one that should be con-tinued. JOIN A LITERARY SOCIETY !—We cannot urge too strongly upon the new men the ad-vantage of joining one of the two literary so-cieties— either the Philomathean or the Phren-akosmian. The training given by these so-cieties is helpful throughout the course and in after life, and one who is not a member of either of the societies will only realize what he is missing when thrown into contact with those who are members. Join a society ! THE TWO FIRES.—There were two fires lately, occurring in the same week, and of in-terest here because the students of college con-tributed a large share in saving property. The first was a barn north of college, struck by lightning and considerable live stock burned. The other, occurring on a cold and windy Sat-in day night, was the barn and stable of Mr. Sheads, proprietor of the unfermented wine establishment on Seminary Ridge. The fire burned fiercely for quite a while, and it was only through the efforts of the students, who were there in full force, that the house, ad-joining the burning barn and stable, was saved. Mr. C, 1900, (in History)—"At this time the Dutckess of York .'' Dr. M. (interrupting)—"I guess you mean the Dutchy of York." Now, what is the differ-ence between a duchess and a dutchy t Mr. C.—"A dutchess is a woman, and a dutchy is a man ! '' Dr. M.—"You are evidently being misled by a popular nickname. It is not the dutchy the boys sometimes call me ! " The Juniors were in Lab. learning the sym-bols of the elements, and Dr. B. said: Mr. T. what does Ba stand for?" The class, evi-dently thinking of B. A. T., roared. There are two songs—and two only—that seem to be the favorites around college: "Just Tell Them That You Saw Me," and "She May Have Seen Better Days." Morning, noon and night you can hear the soul inspiring strains of one of the two songs either sung, whistled or played on Webby's flute. Can't we have something new. "B. A. J. T.," '98, says that only the dum-mies in the Junior class take Anglo Saxon and that the ones who take the Biological course are even worse dummies because "they got their legs pulled for five dollars." He takes Calculus. THE COLLEGE MERCURY. 88 L., 1900 (in History) Henry VIII tried to •'get a pull with the Cardinal, so that" Dr. M., "Mr. E- what did you say?" E., "Why Henry VIII tried to get on the right side of the Cardinal.'' F., 98, recently electrified the class by the startling statement that "in this year there were about twelve months !" Herbie always was noted for original sayings. We have been reliably informed that R., '99, received a large size turn down from a fellow traveller on the train while coming to Gettys-burg. When a free-silver Sophomore gets to arguing with a sound money politician and lawyer of Philadelphia, he is very much like the man who fell out of the balloon. Some freshmen are green, others are ver-dant; but about D., 1900, there is a delightful woodland freshness that is amusing. He was persuaded to hand in to the Athletic Associa-tion a written application to catch for the Col-lege base ball team. We have also heard that he wants to try for the Glee Club. F., '98, says "Co-operation is the thief of time." Next thing you know he'll be writing a revised version of Proverbs. "Kitzy" wanted to hear Nick give "Push along my honey, push along," on the micro-scope. Although Nick can imitate almost any-thing, he admitted that that was one too many for him. New yells lately heard : Bargains ! Bargains ! Rah ! Rah ! Rah ! Cohen Brothers! Gettysburgia ! Klink, Klank, Klunk, Klink, Klank, Klunk, Psychology, Psychology, Watch us flunk. Ninety-eight. Biological! Rah ! Rah ! Rah ! Ninety-eight, Gettysburgia. K., '99, had numerous sad experiences with some of the ladies who were here with ' 'The Lancers." One told him that she was tired of talking to kids. Another told him she could not dance with him, and pointed to her sleeve to show that she was in mourning. K., then said, "is your sleeve ripped? I can soon fix that." Again when he was happily talking to one of them, her mother came up and drove him off. We regret that he had such hard luck in his maiden effort in courtship. Y. M. C. A. NOTES. It must be gratifying to every man who loves the work of Christ, and especially de-sires its success among our students to see"the interest taken in it by the new men. The very first meeting saw many of them give themselves to the Association, entering with spirit into its aims, and manifesting an unus-ual sense of its importance in the college life. We look forward to a year of earnest, devoted, successful work. To those who have not yet joined us we say come with us, we need you, we need your thoughts, your prayers, your ability to labor for Christ. At the latest business meeting Prof. O. G. Klingc was elected treasurer of the building fund in place of Dr. H. L. Baugher resigned. The Association feels grateful to Dr. Baugher for his careful husbanding of the Association's funds, and we are sorry to have lost him. We hope he will still visit us and help us in our meetings. The Association has this year taken up a new line of work in this department, suggested in part by the Northfield Conference, where the importance of the Bible Study Department of the college association was dwelt upon at considerable length. The Freshman and Soph-omore classes will have what is termed ' 'perm-anent courses," with the student leaders as has been customary; the former studying the Eife of Christ and the latter the Eife of Paul. The Juniors and Seniors will have Professors for leaders and will, together with their lead-ers, choose their own line of work; Prof. Himes taking the Seniors, and Prof. Breiden-baugh the Juniors. These classes, it should be observed, are entirely separate from the college curriculum and are adopted solely for co-operative, devotional study. A short time ago "Simon," '98, jumped out of his bed about midnight and rrapped at his own door in order that he might get in and retire. During the heavy storm on Sept. 29, '96, Dr. Nixon is said to have been on the roof, whether to find out the velocity of the wind, or to keep the roof from blowing away is not known. The '98 Bible class called on Dr. Baugher on the eve of Oct. 1, '96. 89 THE COLLEGE MERCURY. Mr. K., '99, recently explained the familiar saying of "bench, bar and pulpit," in the fol-lowing manner : "The bench is the bench of justice; the bar is the bar-room, and the pulpit is where the preacher stands." Dr. B., "What is arsenic acid." A. B. Buun, '98, "Vinegar." Dr. M., Translate, il a soi xante millions de francs. D., 1900, "He has 60 miles of France. In a student's college course there come few such pleasant times as the class of '97 enjoyed with Mr. Wolf at his home on the evening of September 16. Great were the anticipations of the boys, but they were far surpassed in every particular. As they approached his home they found the grounds beautifully lighted with Chinese lanterns, while the novel '97 pumpkins delighted everyone. Mr. Wolf was assisted in receiving by his father and mother, his sister and Miss Nicholson, of Phil-adelphia. A large number of Gettysburg's most charming young ladies, together with some who were visiting from Washington and Philadelphia, graced the occasion. Delight-fully interesting games were provided and the happy hours sped oidy too rapidly. The cat-erer's art was well tested that night, for from oyster pate through the various courses to cof-fee, everything was excellent and most daint-ily served. Later in the evening the college songs at the piano and the sweet strains of the beautiful guitars and Spanish mandolins on the veranda, lent their charms to the tete-a-tetes and moonlight strolls. For it was moon-light, and such moonlight as the girls call "divine." It was a perfect evening in every respect and everyone left grateful to Mr. Wolf not only for his most pleasant entertainment, but for one of the brightest memories of our college days. "THE PENNSYLVANIA CHATAUQUA." The usual inter-collegiate oratorical contest was held on the 29th of last July at Mt. Gretua, under the management of the Penn-sylvania Chatauqua. Gettysburg was represented for the first time and acquitted herself in a way that dem-onstrated the thoroughness of training she gives her students. Several colleges were represented, Lehigh, Franklin and Marshall, Haverford, Gettys-burg, Dickinson, Ursiuus and Muhlenberg. Ursinus received the prize, a silver cup, and Franklin and Marshall came in second. Gettysburg, .the judges decided, was supe-rior in composition. Let us take an interest in this contest and determine that next year the palm will be ours. ALUWINI. L. C MANGES and CHARLES H. TILP. Editors. '42. Rev. Geo. Parson, D. D., of Sunbury, Pa., is recovering from a severe illness. '42. Rev. A. J. Weddell, D. D., pastor em-eritus of Trinity Lutheran church at Norris-town, Pa,, died suddenly at his home in that city on September 14th. '46. Rev. A. M. Geiger, D D., spent a por-tion of the summer on the great lakes. He is now the guest of his brother, Dr. H. R. Gei-ger, Springfield, O. '57. The volume of the Lutheran Commen-tary, by Rev. H. L. Baugher, D. D., is now in the press. '57. Rev. J. A. Earnest, D. D., of Mifflin-burg, Pa., was married on Sept. 8th, to Mrs. Maria Louisa Cronmiller, of the same place, by Rev. M. L. Shindel. We extend hearty congratulations. '58. Rev. S. B. Barnitz, D. D., the Western Secretary of the Board of Home Missions, re-cently spent a Sunday at Beloit, Kansas, win-ning golden opinions from his hearers. '62. Rev. J. B. Keller of Smithsburg, Md., has resigned. '62. By the will of Miss Sarah Acker, lately deceased, St. Paul's Lutheran church, Lion-ville, Pa., of which Rev. F. Klinefelter is pas tor, becomes the recipient of the interest of $1,000; one-half for the benefit of the congre-gation, and the remainder to be used for the cemetery. '63. Dr. Davis Garber, Professor of Mathe-matics in Mnhlenburg College, died recently at his home in Allentown. '68. Rev. Lee M. Heilman'schurch at Har-risburg, was recently the recipient of a fine THE COLLEGE MERCURY. 90 two manual pipe organ valued at $1,800. The donors, Rev. E. Dason, a retired Lutheran minister, and his wife, are members of Rev. Heilman's church. '70. Rev. E. Manges, of Felton, Pa., as-sisted Rev. H. H. Flick at his Harvest-home communion, at Fisherville, Pa. '71. Rev. S. A. Weikert was presented with a handsome nickle-plated Victor bicycle by the clergyman's friends. '71. Rev. Chas. E. Hay's translation of "Luther's Theology," by Koestlin, is now in press. '72. Rev. Jno. Brubaker was elected a direc-tor of the Seminary, by the Allegheny Synod, at its recent meeting. '72. Rev. B. B. Collins, of Meyersdale, Pa., was a delegate to the large K. of P. convention at Gettysburg, last mouth. '73. Rev. Wm. S. Freas, D. D., of St. Paul's Lutheran church, of York, was pleas-' antly surprised by his devoted people on his return from his vacation. The pastor's study had been attractively repapered and renovated. '73. Christ Second Lutheran church, of Al-toona, of which J. F. Hartman is pastor, cele-brated its twenty-fifth anniversary from the 4th to the 9th of September. '74 The new Lutheran church at New Mill-port, Pa., Rev. M. O. T. Sahm, pastor, is to be dedicated on October 18th. It is a hand-some edifice and cost nearly $7,000. '75. St. John's Lutheran church of Lewis-town, is to celebrate its centennial anniversary from October 18th to 25th. The pastor, Rev. M. S. Cressman, has arranged ah interesting program. Dr. S. A. Ort is to speak on Sun-day morning, and after a week of interesting services, the closing sermon is to be preached by Rev. J. M. Reimensnyder, D. D., of Milton. '75. Rev. M. L. Young, Ph. D., has enter-ed upon the 13th year of his pastorate at Meyersdale, Pa. '76. Rev. Wm. A. Shipman, of the First Lutheran church of Johnstown, Pa., spent part of his summer vacation in Gettysburg. '77. Hon. H. M. Clabaugh, Attorney Gen-eral of Maryland, recently paid the college a visit. He was accompanied by Governor Lowndes, of Md. He takes a great interest in his Alma Mater. '77. Rev. W. M. Baum, Jr., of Canajoharie, New York, spent his vacation in Philadelphia, Pa. '77. Rev. Charles S. Trump, of St. Johu's Lutheran church, Martinsburg, W. Va., has returned from his trip to California. '78. Rev. Adam Stump, of York, Pa., since his return from the West, is delivering a series of interesting lectures on the condition of the West at the present time. '80. Rev. Prof. L. B. Wolf, of Guntur, In-dia, has a book in press entitled, "After Fifty Years," or a history of Foreign Missions in the General Synod. '80. The work of Rev. C. W. Heisler, of Denver, Col., at the late meeting of the Rock River Chatauqua, is very highly spoken of by the press of Sterling, 111. '81. Rev. J. W. Byers, Ph. D., D. D., of Nevada, Ohio, has been appointed one of the Board of School Examiners of Wyandot county, Ohio. '82. The session of Mount Amoena Semi-nary, Mt. Pleasant, N. C., opened on Septem-ber 10th with a large and flattering attendance of young ladies, and others have entered this week. Rev. Prof. C. L. T. Fisher is still at the head of the institution. '82. Rev. A. R. Steck, pastor of St. James Lutheran church of Gettysburg, spent his vacation at Stewartsville, N. J. '83. At a recent meeting of the Allegheny Synod Rev. W. W. Austadt was elected as a delegate to the General Synod and also direc-tor of the Seminary. '83. Rev. Prof. H. G. Buehler and wife, of Lakeville, Conn., have returned from their European trip. '83. Rev. P. Livingston has entered upon the seventh vear of his pastorate in St. Mark's York, Pa. '84, Rev. F. L. Bergstresser was elected a director of the Seminary to serve an unex-pired term of one year. '85. Rev. H. M. Heilmau, of Bethany Luth-eran church, Altoona, Pa., spent a portion of his vacation at Cape May, New Jersey. '86. The corner-stone of Whitemarsh Evan-gelical Lutheran church, near Fort Washing-ton, was laid on Sept. 27, in the presence of a large number of people. The exercises were 91 THE COLLEGE MERCURY. in charge of the pastor, Rev. J. Eugene Diet-terich. He was assisted by Rev. U. S. G. Rupp, '90. '86. M. G. Motter was recently elected as-sistant Prof, of Anatomy in the Biological de-partment of Georgetown University. '87. A very good photograph of Rev. H. C. Alleman, pastor of Trinity Lutheran church, Chambersburg, Pa., appeared in the Valley Spirit, of that city, recently. '88. F. E. Metzger, professor of Ancient Languages in Lutherville College, Md., and Miss Martha Thomas, Eckhart Mines, Md., were married at Frostburg, Md., on Septem-ber 10th. '88. Rev. D. Frank Garland, pastor of the Church of the Reformation, Baltimore, Md., has tendered his resignation in order to accept a call to Taneytown, Md. He will begin at the latter place in October. '88. Rev. Luther S. Black, of the College church, Gettysburg, Pa., goes to Johnstown, N. Y., October 1st. '88. Rev. S. D. Daugherty, of Sharpsburg, has accepted a call to Grace Lutheran church, Altoona, Pa. '89. Morris W. Croll has gone to Cleve-land, Ohio, to resume his duties as teacher of English in the University School where he taught last year. '89. Prof. Ira Tipton has accepted a pro-fessorship in the Hill School, of Pottstown, a private school that prepares students for Yale College. We are informed that his duties will be to teach Latin and English. '89. Burgess R. E. Wible delivered the ad-dress of welcome to the Annual State Conven-tion of the Jr. O. U. A. M., which was held in the M. E. church of Gettysburg. '91. Mr. Schmucker Duncan has returned to Yale College to take up some special studies. '91. R N. Hartman, Ph. D., has charge of the Quant. Chem. Lab. of Tufts College, and will do investigation work under Prof. Arthur Michael. He expects to enter a German uni-versity next year. '91. Rev. C. L. Ritter was one of the speak-ers at the large gathering near Middletown, Md., on August 29th. '92. Rev. George Beiswanger, of Calvary Lutheran church, Baltimore, Md., has issued a neat card of topics of his sermons for the next 6 weeks. He will by special request preach a series of sermons on "What is Mar-riage?" "Is it a failure?" "Whom to Marry," "When to Marry," "How to Marry." '92. The newly erected church at Saddlers, near Shrewbury, York county, Pa., Rev. H. E. Berkey, pastor, is to be dedicated on the first Sunday in November. The church is a union one. Rev. H. H. Weber, of York, Pa., is to preach one of the sermons in German and raise the amount of money necessary to dedi-cate free of debt. '93. Virgil R. Saylor has been elected prin-cipal of the Salisbury schools at Elklick, Pa. '93. Rev. John C. Bowers, of Jefferson, Md., has accepted the call to St. Mark'sLuth-eran church, Washington, D. C. '93. Rev. A. A. Kelly, pastor of the Luth-eran church near Mechauicsburg, and Miss Mary C. Bushman, of this place, were married at the home of the bride's parents on Balti-more St., on Wednesday, Sept. 9. The Rev. A. R. Steck, pastor of St. James Lutheran church, of this place, assisted by Rev. W. C. Wire, pastor of Lutheran church, of Littles-town,, performed the ceremony. '93. Rev. G. W. Enders, Jr., was installed as pastor of the Lutheran congregation at Argusville, N. Y., on Sunday, Aug. 18. Dr. G. W. Enders, of York, Pa., and Rev. A. S. Hardy, of Seward, N. Y., officiated. '93. W. H. Deardorff, M. D., who gradu-ated from Jefferson Medical College in June, has been elected resident physician at the the Methodist Hospital of Philadelphia. '93. Rev. E. E. Parson was ordained to the ministry by the Allegheny Synod at its recent meeting in Altoona, Pa. '94. H. A. Allison has accepted a professor-ship in Susquehanna.University. '94. Charles Piper has opened a gent's fur-nishing store in Tyrone, Pa. '94. C. F. Kloss will take a post graduate course in Philosophy at Yale. '94. Frank E. Fickinger, Principal of the Chambersburg, Pa., schools, was here for a few days looking up his old friends. '93. Fred. H. Bloomhardt spent a few days with the boys in college before returning to the University to resume his studies. THE COLLEGE MERCURY. 92 '94. Elmer E. Stahl has been elected prin-cipal of the Glenville Academy. '94. Clyde B. Stover is Dr. Breidenbaugh's efficient assistant in Chemistry. '94. We are grieved to hear of the sad death of Samuel B. Sorrick. '95. John H. Diehl and Robert L. Meiseu-helder have entered the Junior class of the Seminary. '95. Rev. L. H. Waring was ordained to the ministry by the Allegheny Synod at its re-cent meeting. '96. D. E. Rice is an assistant professor in the Harrisburg High School. '96. G. O. Ritter has gone to Selinsgrove to enter the Theological Department of the Susquehanna University. '96. A. C. Carry has entered Mt. Airy Sem-inary, Philadelphia. '96. The following have entered the Junior class of the Seminary : Fred. J. Baum, W. G. Brubaker, I. O. S. Moser, Charles O. Shaar, H. D. Shimer, W. C. Spayde, G. Z. Stup, J. O. Yoder. '96. L. P- Eisenhart is tutor in mathematics in the Preparatory Department. '96. Mr. Norman Heindel has returned to •New York city to resume his studies in the law department of Columbia University. He remarked before leaving that he would be home to cast his first vote for McKinley at the coming election. TOWN AND SEWIINARY NOTES. S. J. MILLER, Editor. The work on the new High School building is being pushed rapidly. It will be known as the Meade High School and proves to be both attractive and convenient. The St. James Lutheran church has been beautified with a coat of paint, the brick work red, the wood work olive. The Rev. L. S. Black left for his new field of work at Johnstown, N. Y., on the 10th of September. Rev. H. A. Alleman, of Chambersburg, filled the pulpit of Christ Lutheran church, both morning and evening, on Sept. 13th. The game of base-ball which was played on the college athletic grounds, Saturday, Sept. 12th, by the Gettysburg and Hanover teams, resulted in a score of 13 to 5 in favor of the former. The Gettysburg team has the reputa-tion of winning every game played this season. Rev. A. R. Steck, of St. James Lutheran church, preached his second anniversary ser-mon on Sept. 13th. About 40 uniformed firemen, accompanied by the G. A. Band, attended the centennial celebration of the Columbia Fire Company on Sept. 23, 24 and 25. The veteran Bucktails of the 150th Penn-sylvania Regiment held their Biennial reunion at this place on the 24th and 25th inst. They held a business session for the purpose of elect-ing officers, at which time it was decided that they hold their next Biennial meeting here, and also that an effort be made to have a bri-gade instead of a regimental reunion. It was in this regiment that the memorable John Burns fought and saw hard service, all the regimental officers being wounded in the fight. The 37th Annual State Session of the Jr. O. U. A. M., which met here recently, was at-tended by over six hundred delegates. The principal contest of the session was for the office of State Vice-Counselor. The successful candidate was Dr. M. P. Dickeson, of Rock-dale. The following official program was ren-dered : Tuesday afternoon—Parade. evening—Illustrated lecture on Cemetery Hill. Wednesdajr evening—Memorial Services. Thursday evening—Band Concert. From now on the electric cars will run only on special occasions. The seventy-second annual convention of the West Pennsylvania Synod convenes Wed-nesday evening, Oct. 14, in the St. James Lutheran church, this place. The veterans of the Sixth Pennsylvania Cavalry, (Rush Lancers) and their friends, arrived here on the 26th, making their ninth annual pilgrimmage to this historical place. As usual, they held a camp-fire in the evening which proved very interesting. Their tour included Gettysburg, Baltimore and Washington. Capt. Long acted as their guide while here. Teachers' County Institute, which will be held in Gettysburg from Nov. 23rd to 27th, 93 THE COLLEGE MERCURY. promises to be a grand success. Prof. Thoman has made arrangements for the following en-tertainments: Monday evening, Dr Y. M. Philip, of Penn'a. Tuesday "' Col. Geo. W. Bain, of Kentucky. Wednesday " Hon. H. W. J. Ham, of Georgia. Thursday " Hon. M. W. Howard, of Alahama. Friday " The Torbet Concert Company. SEMINARY. Seminary opened Sept. 13th, with about its usual attendance. The class which entered thisjyear numbers nineteen. The dormitory was damaged slightly by the recent storm. The trees along the path from the town to the Seminary were twisted around considerably, some having their limbs broken, others being uprooted. Rev. E. J. Wolf, D. D., preached the ser-mon at the corner-stone laying for the new Lutheran church at Spry, York county, on Sept. 6th. Rev. John C. Bowers, of Jefferson, Md., has accepted the call of St. Mark's Lutheran church, in Washington, D. C. Rev. Bowers graduated from the Gettysburg Theological Seminary in the class of '96. On the 27th of September, Rev. J. E. Hein-dle preached at York Haven. Rev. Dr. Richards assisted Rev. A. R. Steck in the administering of the Holy Communion in the St. James Lutheran church, Sept. 27th. FRATERNITY NOTES. PHI KAPPA PSI. Our institution was recently honored by a visit from two loyal Phi Psis, the Governor and the Attorney-General of Maryland, Lowudes, '64, Pa. B, and Clabaugh, '77, Pa. E. C. S. Duncau, '82, was elected President of the Alumni Association last commencement. H. P. Sadtler, '88, of Baltimore, paid us a flying visit a few days since. We were delight-ed to have him with us. We had the pleasure of having with us for a few days at the beginning of the term, W. F. Lutz, '94; A. C. Carty, '96; W. R. Reitzell,'96. W. F. Lutz, '94, is engaged in journalistic work in Bedford. H. M. Witman, '63, is now in attendance at Yale Divinity school. A. C. Carty is now enrolled in the Lutheran Seminary at Mt. Airy. W. R. Reitzell, '96, is studying law in Hagerstown. White, '97 and Lark, '98, are members of the newly organized Musical Clubs. George D. Weaver was initiated June 13. PHI GAMMA DELTA. Bros. J. A. Singmaster, '73, and E. G. Mil-ler, '85, were present at the opening of college. Bro. D. F. Garland has moved to Taney-town, where he has taken charge of the Trin-ity Lutheran church. Bro. H. C. Alleman, '86, preached in the College church on the 13th ult. Bro. F. H. Knuble, '93, returned from Ger-many on the 5th, ult., and recently spent a few days with us. Bros. DeYoe, '85; Blint, '89, and Fickinger, '94, paid us flying visits last month. Bros. Baum, '96, and Shaar, '96, have re-turned to the Seminary, and Bro. Rice, '96, is teaching at Harrisburg High School. Bro. Lichtner, of Ohio Wesleyan, was in town during the Jr. O. U. A. M. Convention. Bro. Fite, '98, and Stiefel, 1900, played on the foot ball team at State College and U. P. Bro. W111, J. Miller, Jr., was initiated the 13th, ult. . • SIGMA CHI. Dale, Lemont, Pa.; Loudon, Altoona, Pa.; Rosensteel, Johnstown, Pa., were initiated Sept. 5th. Fredericks and Monroe, of Lock Haven, Pa., were initiated on the 12th ult. We have had pleasant visits from the follow-ing Brothers: Shipman, '74; McKee, '88; Fox, '89; Fisher, Alpha Kappa, '94; Hays, Omicioh, '94; Deatrich, '94; Loudon, '96; Heindel, '96; Bixler, W. H., '98; Bixler, A. M., '99- Loudon intends entering the Medical De-partment U. of P. Heindel will continue his course in law at Columbia University. THE COLLEGE MERCURY. 94 Dale, Lawyer and London represent us on the foot-ball team. Hersh, '91, has elegant prospects of being the next District Attorney of Adams county. PHI DELTA THETA. C. S. Smith was initiated Sept. 5th. C. W. Leitzell, '94, spent the summer in Gettysburg. B. R. Lantz, '94, supplied the charge at Kittinger, Pa., during the summer. L. S. Black, '88, has resigned as pastor of Christ Lutheran church and accepted a call to Johnstown, N. Y. We wish him success in his new field. C. W Ziegler, '96, spent his vacation in Gettysburg. J. W. Ott and J. E. Meisenhelder accom-panied the foot ball team to State College on the 26th of September. ALPHA TAU OMEGO. W. H. Menges, '96, was with us during the opening days of this term. A. R. Warner, '96, paid the Chapter a short visit recently. W. O. Nicklas, '94, has been admitted to the practice of law at Chambersburg, Pa. E. S. Stalnaker, 1900, was initiated into the Fraternity Monday night Sept. 14th. J. P. Michler, '97, will enter the law depart-ment of the Washington & Lee University. LITERARY SOCIETIES. JOHN W. OTT, Editor. PHILO. The first of the series of popular "Author's Evenings," was given on Sept. 18. The sub-ject was Shakespeare. Our thanks are due Miss Wisotzki and the Misses Keith, for their assistance at the piano, which added greatly to the evening's program. Miss Leeds, of Washington, D. C, and Master Mark Eckert have also played for us. We were glad to have with us our old friend Bloomhardt, '94. Every new man, and some of the old ones, too, should have heard his speech on the benefits derived from literary society work. New members thus far initiated are Spayd, '99, Ney, McNair, Heilmau and Deitrick, 1900. Others have been elected. The officers now serving are: Armstrong, President. Smith, R. L-, Vice President. Fite, Treasurer. Tilp, Librarian. Miss Sieber, Critic. Kitzrneyer, Cor. Secretary. DeYoe, Rec. Secretary. The next special program will be rendered Sept. 23rd. PHRENA. Phrena Society began her year's work on September 4th with the prospect of an unus-ually prosperous year before her. A large number of the Freshman class are already members, having been initiated while in Prep. In addition to these Weigle and Hurst ot the Freshman class, and Bowers of the Prepara-tory, have been elected to membership. Sloop, '99, and Weigle, 1900, were initiated on September 25. The reading-room was put in working order at once. The new men are welcome to its privileges at all hours. Edward W. Meisenhelder, '98, is Editor-in- Chief of the class annual which is to be pub-lished by his class. Phrena holds the editorship of the MERCURY for this year. On October 9, the following special program will be rendered in her hall. The program will begin at eight o'clock. All are cordially invited. The program of the evening's enter-tainment is as follows : SUBJECT :-HARRIET BEKCHER STOWE. Music—Piano Duet, Misses Kieth Declamation—Longfellow's—"The Slave's Dream," - Lauffer Essay—Biographical Sketch, - - - - , - - Wolf Music—Plantation Melodies. Declamation—Longfellow's—"Quadroon Girl," - Fleck Declamation—Whittier's—"A Virginia Slave-mother's Fare-well to Her Daughter," - - E. W. Meisenhelder Music—Violin Solo, Manges Essay—The Story of Uncle Tom's Cabin, . Woods Declamation—Selection from Uncle Tom's Cabin. - Carney Oration—The Effect of Uncle Tom's Cabin, - - Duck Music—Piano Duet, - - Misses Keith Essay—Mrs. Stowe's Other Works, - - - Stockslager Oration—Harriet Beecher Stowe, - Bikle, Sr. Music—Plantation Melody. The following men hold the chief offices at present: Pres., Duck, '97; Vice Pres., E. W. Meisenhelder, '98; Sec'y, Hickman; Treas., J. E. Meisenhelder, '97; Critics, Bikle, Sr., '97; Bikle, Jr., '99; Woods, '98; Stockslager, '97. Want of space forbids the names of the minor officers. 95 THE COEEEGE MERCURY. ATHLETICS. CHAUI.ES T. I,ARK, Editor. What a bright outlook for the athletics of our institution ! The large crowd of new students contains many athletes of no mean ability. Matters look decidedly encouraging. The present interest in foot-ball is unparalleled in the history of our institution. Our coach, Mr. Best, ex-Eehigb, is exerting himself to the utmost to bring our team up to a high standard-of excellence and his efforts are being rewarded. Of the men who com-posed our last season's team, but five returned to college this fall. It is on this account that the work of developing a good team is a very difficult task, as the men with whom Mr. Best has to deal, are almost all inexperienced play-ers; however, the improvement of the team since it is under his hands, is very marked. Among the contestants for the team who are training hard, are the following : '97—Man-ges, Ott, Schriver, Sheely, Wolf, Smith; '98— Nicholas, Tholan, Krafft, Briner, Kephardt, Fite, Kuendig; '99-Roehner, Herman,Spa3'de, Brumbaugh, Smith, J. M., Smith, C. H., Doty, Cumbler, Trimble; 1900—Young, Good, Steifel, Wisotzki, Koppenhaver, Dale Brandt, Eberly, Williams; 1901—Hagerman, Burns, Kohler, Eoudon. The opening game of the season was played at State College. This institution has one of the heaviest and strongest teams in the State. Our men played against opponents averaging 15 pounds heavier than they were. Had it not been for the fact that we are not in the habit of canceling games, this one would have been declared off on account of the poor phys-ical condition of our men. For the above rea-sons and as this was our first game, the result caused no surprise. Gettysburg on several oc-casions had the ball dangerously near their op-ponents' goal line, making repeated gains but fumbling at critical moments. The playing of this game was of great value to our numer-ous unexperienced men. The result was : Gettysburg, o; State, 40. Captain Burns has been looking up material for our next season's Base Ball team and is much encouraged with the prospect. Among the valuable additions for the nine are: Dale, 1900; Hagerman, 1901; Hurst, 1900; Glad-felter, 1900; Carver, 1900; Stallnecker, 1900; Ney; 1900; Heilman, 1900, and our coming catcher, Deitrick, 1900. At a recent meeting of the Athletic Associa-tion, it was decided that hereafter all our Ath-letic teams be composed of strictly college men. At the same time the Association, recognizing the excellent services rendered by Armstrong, '97, as Manager of our last season's base ball team, re-elected him for the coming season. Lark, '98, was elected Assistant Manager. We would urge on all students who have not already done so, the necessity of their uniting themselves with the Athletic Association. The joining of this Association is not only your privilege but it is a duty which you owe to the Athletics of your institution. We are more than proud of the record made by our team on Sept. 30th, against the strong-est eleven in the country, that of the Univer-sity of Pennsylvania. It is very much to the credit of our men that their team could score but four touch downs in two twenty minute halves, three in the first and one in the second. Their star half-back, Morice, helped swell the score very materially by kicking two goals from the field in the second half. Dale and White did the best work on our part. Dale kicked very well and went around the end for 8 yards, while White went through tackle for 6 and gained 8 by circling the end. In all we gained, by carrying the ball, about 25 yards and captured it twice on downs. Their touch-down in the second half came near riot count-ing, as time was up while the man was run-ning with the ball. Our fellows well deserve the rousing recep-tion the}' received on their return home for, by playing the game they did, they added much to the athletic prestage of our institution. The men composing our opponents' team, such as Wharton, Woodruff, Morice, Dickson, etc., played their positions as they should be played. The line-up was as follows : GETTYSBURG. • POSITIONS. PENNSYLVANIA. Doty left-end Boyle Nicholas left-tackle Uffeuheimer Hagerman left-guard Woodruff Steifel centre Overfeild Koppenhaven right-guard Wharton Ott, Tholau right-tackle Farrar, McCracken Young right-end B. W. Dickson Lawyer quarter-back A. K. Dickson White left-half-back Gelbert Williams, Sheely right-half-back Morice Dale full-back Jackson Score—Pennsylvania, 32 ; Gettysburg, o. Touchdowns—Jack-sou, 3; Boyle, 1. Goals from field—Morice, 2. Substitutions— Tholan for Ott, Sheely for Williams Goodman for B. W. Dick-son, McCracken for' Farrar. Referee—George W. Brooke. Umpire—Dr. Charles H. Schroff. Linesman—Geo. W. Wood-ruff. Time of halves—Twenty minutes each. THE COLLEGE MERCURY. 96 The fact that no foot ball team can stand three hard games in one week, was very forci-bly presented to us on Oct. 3rd, when our boys were defeated by F. and M. to the tune of 24 to nothing. State College, U. of Pa., and F. and M., is decidedly too much of a program for one week. Our team was considerably broken up by the games with State and U. P., and played by no means in their usual form. "The game was noticeable for the small amount of kicking indulged in by either side and the gains were principally made through tackles and around the ends. For Gettysburg, White and Sheely played a star game, while Cessna, Hosterman and Eocher, made brilliant plays for F. and M." We expect to return the compliment on the 17th, at which time we meet F. and M. on the home grounds. Manager Wheeler has had some difficulty in arranging dates but has finally secured the fol-lowing fine schedule: Oct. 10—Open. Oct. 17—F. and M. at Gettysburg. Oct. 24—Ursinus at Gettysburg. Oct. 31—Swathmore at Harrisburg. Nov. 7—Open. Nov. 14—Lehigh at Bethlehem. Nov. 21—St. Johns at Gettysburg. Nov. 26—Dickinson at Carlisle. "BRE'R JOHNSON'S" SERENADE. "Oh, kum kiss me ma honey ! Kum kiss me ebery minit. Dat yaller gal acros' de way, Lor' massey ! she ain't in it. "Yo' am de darlin' of my heart, , Yo' am de one I'd die fo'! Rise quickly from yo' slumbers sweet An' luk out ob yo' windo'. "Here in de dark ob night I stan', Singin' like bluddy murder, But, honey, ef yo' don' lub me I can't go on no furder. "De coon sleeps in de hollo', De woodchuck 's in his hoi', Al' am quiet lik, an' peaceful, 'Cept my lub tormented sol'." WE follow the Wittenburger in coming out for silver; that is, the dollar you owe for sub-scription to the MERCURY. Foot Ball Supplies. EVERYTHING FOB THE PLAYER, Jackets, Shoes, Stockings, -Jerseys, Shin Guards, Etc. Spalding's Official Intercol- *$& legiate Foot Ball, W'-/;"-^. Officially adopted by the Intercollegiate Association. COMPLETE CATALOGUE FALL AND WINTER SPORTS FREE. A. Q. Spalding & Bros., NEW YORK. PHILADELPHIA. CHICAGO. L. D. HjlLLER, 19 Main St., GETTYSBURG, Q-roosT, Qonfectione? and ffiruitsrsr. Ice Cream and Oysters in season. 4fc A 1\ i\ . Send us your ad- %i* "1 Jl I low NUPO dress and we X eiHPBNfiOSB MYBfiSjfc-- WATOHMAKEE AND rlEWELER, Gettysburg Souvenir Spoons, College Souvenir Spoons, No. io Baltimore Street, GETTYSBURG, PENN'A. J. A. TAWNEY Is ready to furnish clubs and boarding houses BREAD, ROLLS, &0., at short notice and reasonable rates. Cor.Washington and Middle Sts., Gettysburg. W^aHPIllHowwiS DEALERS IN Fresh Beef, Veal, Lamb, Pork, Pudding, Sausage, HAMS, LARD, &c-. GETTYSBURG, IMIM'A. JOHN L. SEEsiDS. NEW CIGAR STORE Next door io W. M. 'Depot, Gettysburg, 0 TO^ ^ ♦•HOTEL GETTYSBURG* -^BAfiBBfi SHOP.K-Centre Square. _B. M. SEFTON. 2fou will find a full line of Zrure *Drugs 6c J'ine Stationery Sreopte'a 7) rug otore. ^Proscriptions a Opocialty. cL Lj^lurqpGP, ZPhotographerj No. 2g Baltimore St., 1 GETTYSBURG SPECIAL ATTENTION PAID TO ollege £ffl ffiine QolUotion of. BATTLEFIELD VIEWS .tdU^>a'2s on hand. MAIL ORDERS RECEIVE PROMPT ATTENTION. (pStfc^ §£%jSj£^t --A-3>T:D— Hlliott & HOUSOP. N. B.—Stiff Eats made to Fit the Head in two minutes. H4T$,«P$, —^ —- BOOTS * SHOES. GS=Satisfaction Guaranteed.^) No. 6 S. Baltimore Street, GETTYSBURG, PA. por all Ihe latest styles in Suitings andTrousers, AND FULL LINE OF Cents' Furnishing Goods, Call or, D. H. WELSH, York, Pa. ADVERTISEMENTS. ••■/: • - i, . fe wj" | "~r ■ W~'~—f* I—v? ■SlV'7" A"*> ■ v/vi* I. Classical Course for the Degree of A. B. II. Scientific Course for the Degree of B. S. III. Post-Graduate Course for the Degree of Ph. D. IV. Special Course in all Departments. V. Elective Studies in Junior and Senior Years. VI. New Testament Greek and Hebrew in English Bible Department. Observatory, Laboratories and new Gymnasium. Four large buildings. All buildings heated with steam from central plant. Libraries, 25,000 volumes. Fine Museum. Expenses low'. Department of Hygiene and Physical Culture in charge of an experienced physician. Accessible by frequent railroad trains. Location, on BATTLEFIELD of Gettysburg; most pleasant and healthy. PREPARATORY DEPARTMENT, in separate buildings, for boys and young men preparing for business or college, under special care of the principal and three assistants, residing with students in the building. For full particulars, apply for catalogue to HARVEY W. MCKNIGHT, D. D., LL. D.,PRES'T., PeiiinsyUvfanSa QoHtege,, ©©ttysfoiwg, Pa»

Issue 60.6 of the Review for Religious, 2001. ; ° R-eview for Re!igio~s b~lps people re~pon~ and befaithful to.God's, universal ~ail to holiness' ' " by making; available tO them the sl~irituai legades - " tb~t flow-~om the, charisms of Catbolicconsecrated life~ Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bimonthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-977-7363 ° Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: review@slu.edu ° Web site: www.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP Mount St. Mary's Seminary; Emmitsburg, Maryland 21727 POSTMASTER Send address chafiges to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2001 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the pers6nal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. vi,ew for religious LIVING OUR CATHOLIC LEGACIES Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Clare Boehmer ASC Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe TracT Gramm Judy Sharp James and Joan Felling Adrian Gaudin SC Sr. Raymond Marie Gerard FSP Eugene Hensell OSB Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla SJ Ernest E. Larkin OCarm Miriam D. Ukeritis CSJ NOVEMBER DECEMBER 2001 VOLUME 60 NUMBER 6 contents 566 a wider mission The Interreligious World: A Nun's Experience There Mary C. Boys SNJM probes aspects of religious life in light of the Catholic-Jewish relationship and provides a testimony that emboldens her continued commitment to this lifeform. 581 'Unsuspected Mission A. Paul Dominic SJ identifies the mission of spiritual conversation as the basic apostolic work of Jesus and of all who are his followers. 594 spiritual directions On the Seventh Day God Rested Marie Beha OSC suggests ways of understanding and making more creative use of Sabbaths in our life. 602 Where Your Heart Is Donald Macdonald SMM sees in Jesus' journey to Jerusalem (in Luke) an ardor and constancy that our bonding with him through Sc~ipture's strong and burning words can accomplish also in us. Review for Religious evaluations 614 628 Criteria for Change: Women's Ministering to the Body of Christ Marie Brinkman SCL looks at the lives lived by sisters in the past as the foundation that must validate today's discernment criteria for the needed changes. Missionary or Mercenary Patrick Sean Moffett CFC offers a perspective on changes in membership, changes in collaboration, and changes in corporate commitment in order to stimulate discussion on community apostolates. 640 647 divine initiatives What Only God Can Make Ann Marie Paul SCC imaginatively ponders religious community pictured as a tree, with the trunk representing chastity, the branches poverty, and the leaves obedience. God's Will: Where Desires Commingle Denis Donoghue SJ ruminates on the seeking out of God's will and illustrates some principles of discernment in a personal'example. departments . 564 Prisms 655 Canonical Counsel: Readmission to a Religious Institute 661 Book Reviews 667 Indexes to Volume 60 November-Dece~nber 2001 prisms All of us have to be born and have to die. These "have to's" sound like some activity we must do, when both are rather something that happens to us. "Being born" and "being dying" are the leveling events that bookend all human life. What fills the space in between seems to spell out nothing but all the hills and valleys, rolling vineyards and desert wastelands, that represent the inequalities of human living. Some people are born into wealth, and they will never know want. Others are only fortunate enough at birth to have a mother healthy enough to give them mother's milk, but they will go through life malnour-ished and disease-prone. Some are born highly gifted and fail ever to develop their talents. Others struggle through life with a minimum of human endowments, but successfully act with a perennial zest. Some will spend their life in steel and glass skyscrapers, and others will know only the simplest of grass or plywood huts. Some will travel the world; others will know only their village. Except for "being born" and "being dying," we human beings seem to spend lifetimes of greatly unequal value. There seems to be no level playing field for all people to encounter each other on. God engages the inequalities of human life in the incarnation and birth of his Son. In the familiar hymn quoted in St. Paul's letter to the Philippians, our atti-tude must be "that of Christ: Though he was in the form of God, he did not deem equality with God something to be grasped at. Rather, he emptied himself and took the form of a slave, being born in the likeness of men. He was known to be of human estate, and it was thus that he humbled himself, obediendy accepting even death, death on a cross" (Ph 2: 5-9). Paul reflects that God takes on a true inequality. In becoming human, Christ goes from the fullness of divin- Review for Religious i'ty to the emptiness of humanity. Theologically, humanity is empty because everything that each of us has is gift, as Jesus reminds us in saying that all his words and his works are not his, but come from the Father. So in faith we know an inequality that is real between God and the human. But, then, in God's becoming human in Jesus, we come to know God's definitive action in breaking down all the appearances of inequality that divide us humans. Jesus entered into the leveling experience of all humans by "being born" and by "being dying." Through all the in-between time, he lived his life as an example and .taught by word and para-ble that the leveling process permeated the whole of human living. While friendly with rich and poor alike, with learned and unlearned, Jesus seems to violate our sense of leveling by his iden-tifying with the poor, with servants and slaves, with the marginal-ized. He reaches out to them in his care; he tells stories about them for our instruction. Jesus asks us to be like him--one who serves. In the Last Supper washing of the feet, Jesus stresses that he has given us an example. Jesus transfigures the language and meaning of slavery, ser-vice, and ministry. All these words now describe valued human interaction from a divine perspective. We all are meant to be helpers--in Scripture, sometimes called slaves, sometimes servants, sometimes minis-ters-- to one another in life. Helpers and those being helped are on the same level. One is not superior as a human being in either being the helper or minister or being the one being helped or ministered to. Jesus gave us an unforgettable image by answering "Who is my neighbor?" with the parable of the Good Samaritan. Th~ second half of the one commandment stresses that we love our neighbor as ourselves. Our love goes out to whomever, persons always on a level no different from ourselves. We neither reach down in helping nor reach up; we only reach across. By entering into our human level, God broke through all the specious levels that seem to divide humankind. By our entering into the divine experience of Jesus, we see and act as sons and daughters of a heav-enly Father. Every Christmas, we challenge ourselves anew about the Christian leveling of human life. By our faith we live life on the same level--the level has been forever divinely clarified because of the birth of Jesus. David L. Fleming SJ November-December 2001 a wider mission MARY C. BOYS The Interreligious World: A Nun's Experience There A great value of ecumenical and interreligious exchange is that it sheds light on one's own tradition. Seeing oneself through the eyes of others expands one's reflections, provokes absorbing questions, and clarifies values and modes of thought. While my roots in the religiously variegated Pacific Northwest mean I have long been in Protestant company, and my interest in Judaism dates back to my college years, it was only upon moving to New York City seven years ago that I staked my tent on ecumenical and inte~religious terrain. Teaching at the historically Protestant Union Theological Seminary and working in Christian-Jewish dialogue beyond Union's quadrangle afford new understandings not only of the religiously "other," but of Catholicism as well. And, by providing a flesh viewpoint on religious life, my situation exercises a profound personal effect) SandraSchneiders has observed that women religious seem able to work beyond the boundaries of Christianity while remaining deeply affiliated with it; we Mary C. Boys SNJM is the Skinner and McAlpin Professor of Practical Theology at Union Theological Seminary in New York City and the author of Has God Only One Blessing? Judaism as a Source of Christian Self-Understanding. Her address is Union Theological Seminary; 3041 Broadway; New York, N.Y. 10027. Review for Religious "are at once very deeply involved in institutional Catholicism and often widely and deeply involved in the experiences of spirituality beyond its denominational boundaries.''2 Yet, in exploring the topic of religious life and interreligious dialogue, she turns her gaze more to the East, to dialogue among monastics. By exploring the implications of interaction with Jews and Judaism, I hope to highlight a distinctive interreligious conversation that Schneiders touches on only tangentially, and thereby to add another layer to, and engage in occasional argument with, her outstanding scholarly study. Probing religious life, a topic on which I have never published, in light of the Catholic-Jewish relationship, on which I have published, challenges me to hold together two vital parts of my life. This essay, then, revolving around four "scenes," is deeply per-sonal, but I hope not solipsistic, for I intend it as a stimulus for conversation. I. London, June 2000, a Catholic-Jewish conference on "The Theology of Partnership." This conference involved participants principally from the United Kingdom and the United States, along with a few European and Israeli scholars and a Vatican delegation. Although the large number of participants hindered the flow of discussion, our exchange was for the most part candid and stimulating. In the latter part of the conference, one of the Catholics, a priest, launched into a romanticized mini-sermon about Mary as virgin and mother. Its traditionalist theology and tangential relation to the point under discussion elicited considerable skepticism, if one might judge by the body language of rolled eyes and heads held in hands. Many sought recognition by the chair to respond (including all the Catholic women), but I have less recollection of the rejoinders than I do of the comment by the woman next to me. A Reform rabbi from the United Kingdom, she wrote furiously on her notepad: "Mary. Virgin. Why don't they talk about real women?" Liminal. Marginal. Such terms, used by Schneiders (among others) to describe religious life strike a chord. Insofar as this lifeform has a prophetic character rather than a hierarchical status, religious life is indeed lived on the "thresholds where realities meet, dash, and merge.''3 Nonetheless, such terms are sometimes far too academic to describe moments of feeling just how odd and anomalous we religious are. While on one level I suspect I November-December 2001 Boy~ * The lnterreli¢ous Worm To be with Jews as a member of a religious congregation is to experience our liminality, our oddness, on a regular basis. understand what my table companion was objecting to, the starkness of her opposition of "virgin" and "real women" hit hard. In reflecting later, I realize I never use terminology about virginity to describe celibacy; not only does it connote a naive innocence, but it speaks only to the dimension of abstention from genital sexual intimacy. Without question, this self-chosen abstention---or, better, an abstention that is part of our being called to a distinctive way of life--has its ascetic aspects. Nevertheless, the term virginity seems to suggest that we have repressed our sexuality, thereby ceasing to be "real" women. Whether or not the Jungian-grounded theory of the "virgin archetype" or a similar perspective can overcome the cultural stereotypes of virginity is a real question, but this dimension of Finding the Treasure offers a compelling description of the inner autonomy celibacy can offer. In the halls of Union, being a nun (in the imprecise use of the term) is sometimes seen as a "weird" way of life. Yet consecrated celibacy is not unknown in Protestantism. Students of Hinduism and Buddhism, moreover, know about celibacy in those traditions. It, is, however, completely uncharacteristic of rabbinic Judaism, which places intense emphasis on family life and home-based ritual.4 So to be with Jews as a member of a religious congregation is to experience our liminality, our oddness, on a regular basis. While this experience can be jarring, as it was at that conference June 2000, in general it has increased my sensitivity to the peculiarities of religious life, a sensitivity that can be dulled by remaining in the more homogeneous company of one's religious congregation.5 At the same time, it makes the God question more prominent. Jews typically are more reticent in speaking about God, a healthy corrective to the overfamiliarity with which many Christians ~peak about the Holy One.6 The presence, however, of persons for whom the "God quest" is the principal explanation for their liminal way of life raises questions, at least implicitly, about the divine-human relationship. Perhaps, to balance the incident with which I began this section, I should report that recently, at the conclusion of a Review for Religious weekend spent as a scholar-in-residence at a synagogue, an elderly man came up to thank me. His eyes welling with tears, he said, "You answered God's call many years ago, and now you are able to be among us." II. November 2000, a gathering of Holocaust survivors in the New York metropolitan area. While giving a series of lectures in a Catholic parish on New York's East Side the previous September, I met Lewis Weinstein, a businessman who had just published a novel on the Spanish Inquisition, The Heretic. A few weeks later he phoned to ask if I would share the podium with him at an event sponsored by the New York area Holocaust survivors. They had invited him to speak about his book, and he in turn thought it would be good if I would speak about developments in the Catholic Church's relations with Jews. His historical novel portrays a grim time. The Inquisition bears witness to the ways in which the legacy of anti-Judaism became a justification for greed and intolerance and persecution. His selections mirrored the bleakness. For example, one of the principal characters, Friar Ricardo Perez, copies texts from the New Testament and early church writers such as Chrysostom in order to justify his hatred of Jews. Lew's final excerpt was from John Chrysostom, whose vitriol toward Jews is well known: "These Jews are gathering choruses of effeminates and a great rubbish heap of harlots. Their synagogues are brothels and theaters, dens of robbers and lodgings for wild beasts. Jews know but one thing: to fill their bellies and be drunk. Their condition is no better than that of pigs and goats. Refusing to accept Christ, they have made themselves fit for s!aughter. The synagogue is a dwelling of demons, and the Jews who pray there themselves are demons. If the Jews are acting against God, must they not be serving demons? For they did sacrifice their sons and daughters to demons. Jewish mother~ ate their own children, and the hands of Jewish women boiled their own children. Their synagogues are fortresses of the devil, and the pit of all perdition. The devil is a murderer, and the Jew demons who serve him are murderers, tOO.''7 The air hung heavy in the room. Then the chair introduced me in her heavily accented English. "Mr. Weinstein wanted this Sister Mary to come. I'm not sure why. I did not have such a good experience of nuns in Poland. Anyway, here's Sister Mary Boys." " "Oy ray," I thought on the way to the podium. "How did I get myself into this one--and what now?" November-December 2001 Boys ¯ The Interreligious Worm There was enormous anger in that room, much of it directed at the Catholic Church, which I represented to them. Their anger was not simply the church's failure to live the gospel during the Shoah (Holocaust), but also their experience as children. These were men and women who had been taunted, even beaten, as "Christ-killers," who feared--with good reason--walking by a church, who were terrified to go out in the streets on "Good" Friday. I had with me the 1997 "Declaration of Repentance" by the French bishops. Its words came to life before my eyes: In the judgment of historians, it is a well-proven fact that for centuries, up until Vatican Council II, an anti-Jewish traditibn stamped its mark in differing ways on Christian doctrine and teaching, in theology, apologetics, preaching, and in the liturgy. It was on such ground that the venomous plant of hatred for the Jews was able to flourish. Hence the heavy inheritance we still bear in our century, with all its consequences which are so difficult to wipe out. Hence our still open wounds? To work as a Catholic with Jews is to witness many "open wounds," wounds from the "heavy inheritance" of our own tradition. For this reason, the Catholic-Jewish encounter is sui generis in the interreligious sphere, a point Schneiders overlooks in saying that the interreligious encounter differs "in virtually every way from the ecumenical one. It involves an encounter not between separated siblings, but between virtually total strangers.''9 We Catholics and Jews are indeed separated siblings, and that separation has been bitter, violent, and tragic. We are not strangers; we have been enemies--and to work for reconciliation is an obligation of justice. It is difficult enough for us as Catholic women to deal with church structures that mute our voices. It is even more disillusioning to study the long history of Christian contempt for Jews, the tradition of adversus Judaeos: how rivalry hardened into contempt, and contempt fostered disputation, and disputation developed into demonization, and demonization fertilized this "venomous plant of h~tred for the Jews." Like all of history's stories, the church's relationship with Jews and Judaism is a complicated tale--with significant contextual factors in every age, occasions of amity and respect and of prophets with a different vision. Nonetheless, it is largely a story of moral blindness, imperialism, and violence. While I am not personally complicit, it is Revie~v for Religious a story of which I am deeply ashamed--and one that demands I examine my complicity in other betrayals of the gospel. I am grateful for the privilege, difficult though it is, of facing those whom our history has hurt. Meeting survivors and knowing children of survivors (and, for that matter, knowing any Jews at all, for who among them has not been touched in some way by the Shoah?) means not only reading this history with deepened sensitivity, but also being emboldened to act differendy so that "the spoiled seeds of anti-Semitism should never again take root in the human heart."1° Nevertheless, confronting this history causes anguish and compounds my problems as a feminist with the institutional church. The "open wound" of which the French bishops spoke festers even as I struggle with my Catholic identity in a church that treats women as second-class citizens. I live, too, with the irony that the official church seems more committed to dialogue with Jews than with their own women. The confrontation with history, moreover, triggers another crisis, a dark night of the soul. If "the most acutely painful point of intersection between the postmodern sensibility and religious faith is the God-image,'' 11 then the Shoah is the starkest event in this intersection. It brings one face-to-face with the "abusing God," requiring us to ponder unbearable questions about the One to whom we pray22 As grateful as I am for all I have learned (and continue to learn) about prayer from my sisters, we seem reluctant to address these searing questions in our common prayer. Indeed, I cannot recall any occasion in which the Shoah and its challenges to our understanding of God have been raised to the conscious level in the communal prayer of my own congregation, the Sisters of the Holy Names of Jesus and Mary. This leads me to wonder whether any congregation, with the exception of the Sisters of Sion, confronts "God issues" that swirl around the Shoah23 The way that many Jews, especially in this post-Holocaust period, address God in a challenging manner has much to teach us. Elie Wiesel says that those who stand within the covenant have the To work as a Catholic with Jews is to witness many "open wounds," wounds from the "heavy inheritance" of our own tradition. Nbvember-December 2001 Boys * The Interreh~ious Worm right to say anything to God--even blasphemy.~4 In the concluding section of his profound meditation on God and abuse (including the Shoah, but also sexual abuse), David Blumenthal composes darifig prayers for use in Jewish liturgical services. He cautions that prayers of this type require preparation: One must have a deep commitment to God, a deep desire to want to be with God, to want to have a relationship with God. It must be important, indeed a matter of spiritual life and death, to be able to address God. One must have, too, deep and abiding faith in the covenant, in our ability to address God no matter what the circumstances and no matter how severe our prayer may be; and in God's desire to hear us and to help us address God. One must also have a sense of proportion about our relationship to God. We are creatures, not Creator. We are innocent, as victims of abuse; but we are sinners, in many other matters. We are accusers, yet we are children. This creates a tension in our images of ourselves, of God, and of the proper relationship between us; yet we must live, think, and pray within this tension.~s Facing the history of our relationship with Jews and learning Jewish ways of addressing God have provided depth and texture to my own prayer. I~I. Friday nights: a guest at the dinner table for Sbabbat. Passover: a guest at the Seder. I feel deeply privileged to join jewish friends for Shabbat or for the Seder. I have learned more than I can say from the lively conversations and observing the ways in which they su'ive to lead lives of integrity in fidelity to Torah. Without idealizing the tradition, I find much cause for "holy envy": its depth of prayer mirrored in the Siddur and in the cycle of festivals, the intellectual vitality (especially the value placed on study), the prizing of family, and home-based religious practices. My relationships leave me no doubt that Judaism fosters a holy way of life and that the ways of Torah are salvific for those committed to walking in its ways. The privilege accorded me in coming to know the power of another religious tradition finds little reflection in the recent Vatican declaration Dominus Iesus (D1).16 My experience provides a different vantage point from which to view other religious traditions. Even as DI recognizes that the dialogue between Christianity and other religions raises new questions that should be "addressed through pursuing new paths of research, advancing proposals, and Review for Religious suggesting ways of acting that call for attentive discernment" (§3), it reiterates traditional formulations of faith in arguing against pluralism. It condemns the mentality of indifferentism "characterized by a religious relativism which leads to the belief that 'one religion is as good as another'" (§22). The declaration refutes those who regard the Catholic Church as merely "one way of salvation alongside those constituted by the other religions" (§21). Rather, "Jesus Christ is the mediator and universal redeemer" (§11). Further, "one can and must say that Jesus Christ has a significance and a value for the human race and its history which are unique and singular, proper to him alone, exclusive, universal, and absolute. Jesus is, in fact, the Word of God made man for the salvation of all" (§15). According to the Congre-gation for the Doctrine of the Faith (CDF), one may still speak of equality in interreligious dialogue, but only in reference to the "equal personal dignity of the parties in dialogue, not to doctrinal content nor even less to the position of Jesus Christ . Thus, the certainty of the universal salvific will of God does not diminish but rather increases the duty and urgency of the proclamation of salvation and of conversion to the Lord Jesus Christ" (§22). Without entering into detailed theological analysis of Dominus Iesus, I simply want to call attention here to one of its primary deficiencies. The declaration has no sense of the relational, no feel for human interchange. Other religions are an abstraction, a category, an it. DI pays no attention to these religions as they exist in the lives of real people; it shows no sensitivity to the "thick" texture of other traditions. The writers, rather, claim objectivity: "Objectively speaking, they [other religions] are in a gravely deficient situation." Such a judgment ignores theologies of pluralism that allow one to privilege his or her own convictions while taking account of the reasonability of others' beliefs.~7 In judging dialogue from a position of omniscience, the declaration bears no indication of what we might learn from the religious other. Facing the history of our relationship with Jews and learning Jewish ways of addressing God have provided depth and texture to my own prayer. Noventber-December 2001 Boys ¯ The Into'religious Worm On the explicit level, DI says little about the church's relationship with Judaism.~ DI refers to Jews just once (§13): "The first Christians encountered the Jewish people, showing them the fulfillment of salvation that went beyond the Law," thus implicitly porraying Judaism as legalistic. DI then falls silent about Judaism. Nonetheless, its judgment~ seem to encompass Judaism, because DI notes no exceptions. It works only with three categories: Roman Catholicism, other Christian churches (distinguishing between those with apostolic succession and a valid Eucharist and "ecclesiastical communities which have not preserved the valid episcopate and the genuine and integral substance of the eucharistic mystery [and therefore] are not churches in the proper sense" §17), and non-Christian religions. In view of such a sweeping scope, readers may reasonably infer that the CDF includes Judaism within the rubric of non-Christian religions. Jews, therefore, seem also to be subject to the claim that, because "Jesus Christ is the . . . universal mediator" (§11), "one can and must say" that his significance and value for "the human race and its history., are unique and singular, proper to him alone, exclusive, universal, and absolute., for the salvation of all" (§ 15). For Catholics this means being "committed to proclaiming tq all people the truth definitively revealed by the Lord and to announcing the necessity of conversion to Jesus Christ and of adherence to the church through baptism and the other sacraments in order to participate fully in communion with God, the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit" (§22). Such a view stands in tension with my own experience.~9 As one privileged to be a frequent guest in Jewish homes, to learn from Jewish scholars, to experience something of the profundity of Jewish liturgy and prayer, and, above all, to have close Jewish friends, I have an abiding respect, even awe, for the depth of Judaism. The way of Torah certainly seems to me salvific for those who walk in it. I cannot.in conscience seek the conversion of a Jew. This is not a matter of indifferentism, but rather a glimpse of the incomprehensible God whose ways transcend our under-standing. IV. Three items: Item: "Jesus' relations with women seem to have been remarkably free, given the reserve that Jewish custom in his day required."2° Item: "At the historical moment when Jesus was born Review for Religious into the world, the stares of Jewish women had never been lower . By the time of Jesus' birth, many decades of rabbinic commentary and custom had surrounded Old Testament literature. And these rabbinic traditions considerably lowered the status of women.'m Item: "Palestinian Hebrew women were among the poorest in the world in Jesus' day. This was probably because they had no inheritance rights and could be divorced for the flimsiest of reasons. Hebrew men could divorce their wives for anything from burning the dinner (Hillel) to adultery (Shammat). Yet Hebrew women were not allowed to divorce their husbands .A. Hebrew woman had minimal to no property rights A. .child was held to be Jewish only if the mother was Jewish. Most Jewish girls were betrothed by their fathers at a young age. Jewish women were held to be unclean while menstruating. If she inadvertently touched a man while having her menses, he was obliged to undergo a week-long purification ritual before worshiping at the Temple . In early Judaism women did proclaim and prophesy, but in Jesus' day they weren't permitted to proclaim Torah at synagogue because of their periodic 'uncleanness.' As a rule, only the rabbis' wives were so educated. Women were not accepted as witnesses in Jewish law, nor could they teach the law. Women had no official religious or leadership roles in first-century Judaism. Jesus' behavior toward women, even viewed through the androcentric lens of the gospel texts, is remarkable.''2z I could multiply such examples; they seem ubiquitous in feminist writing, both scholarly (less now, though more common among feminist authors from the third world and the East) and pastoral. These perspectives are communicated widely among women's communities and beyond them. My encounter with Judaism helps me look at such claims critically, especially those related to the Second Temple period and the early church. I am sympathetic to the desire to understand Jesus as one who liberated his followers--including (perhaps especially) women--from the oppressive structures of religious authorities. (Yes, many of us consider some religious authorities oppressive in our time.) Nonetheless, I have come to agree with Mary Rose D'Angelo that portraying Jesus as the one "who saves women from Judaism" bothoversimplifies and distorts the situation of Jewish women in lst-century Palestine23 It does indeed seem that, in many feminist and liberationist circles, "no plot is complete witho.uLt a-575- November-December 2001 Boys ¯ The Interreligious Worm reference to the 'Jewish patriarchal system,' although very rare are comments on the similarly patriarchal pagan cultures of antiquity.''24 Sadly, I have come to see that many who do theology under the rubric of feminism have drunk all too deeply from the wells of anti-Judaism. Despite the rich literature on the Pharisees, most notably that of Anthony Saldarini,25 in many liberal and feminist circles they function as the symbol of precisely what is wrong with religious authorities. (For example: "[The Pharisees and their colleagues the scribes] tried to keep control over people's access to God through control of the Law. Jesus denounced this pretension and returned to the people the true means of access to God: love and com-passion." 26) In many feminist writings, moreover, the laws of ritual purity, which the Pharisees are portrayed as championing, serve as the source of the clearest contrast between oppressive Judaism and the liberating Jesus. We are instructed about the "dehumanizing situation in which the women of the time were enslaved." We learn how menstruating women were "discriminated against, degraded, and dehumanized,m7 In short, some feminist writers contrast Jewish women of the Second Temple period with New Testament narratives to support their claims that, "at its inception, pristine Christianity and Jesus himself were free of any misogyny or gender bias." Thereby they implicitly buttress the argument of Christian superiority over Judaism.28 Thus I differ with Sandra Schneiders's portrayal of Jesus vis-a-vis his Jewish contemporaries. While I appreciate--and agree wholeheartedly with--her larger argument about the way in which the prophetic character of religious life places communities in tension with ecclesiastical authorities, I disagree with claims such as "Jesus was rejected by official Judaism" and the more subtle assertion that, "like Jesus, who taught both respect for ecclesiastical leaders insofar as they legitimately hold office and resistance to ecclesiastical oppression, religious must stand with and for the disempowered in the church (cf. Mt 23:2-5 [the scathing denunciation of the scribes and Pharisees]).''z9 The Pharisees, despite their depiction in the Gospels, cannot historically be regarded as representatives of "official" Judaism (there was no such official body), and we should not use them as symbols of clericalism, however useful that might be to feminist causes. They were not the equivalent of ecclesiastical leaders. We would do well to listen to Jewish feminists--such as Paula Review for Religious Fredriksen's observations about the purity laws,3° Ross Kraemer's critique of rabbinic prooftexting,3~ and Rabbi Elyse Goldstein's wrestling with the meaning of the purity rules for her own life.32 To recognize that "Jewish hopes of a new and transformed world made the movement begun by Jesus and his companions and early Christian communities forums for participation and leadership for women" necessitates refining our argument, but in no way diminishes it.33 To acknowledge the complexity of patriarchy in antiquity as well as in early Christianity entails facing the arrogance of our own limited perspectives. In sum, my encounter with Jews and Judaism has brought deepened appreciation for the distinctiveness of religious life in the Catholic tradition. It has challenged me to face the long shadow of our history and to grapple with many questions about God in light of the Shoah. It shapes my theological vantage point on Dominus Iesus as well as various feminist writings. Above all, my encounter inspires hope. For all that lies unresolved within our church in regard to relations with Jews, what has happened between Christians and Jews in our time testifies to the power of the Spirit to bring healing and new life--a testimony that emboldens my own commitment to religious life. Notes ~ This is an edited version of a paper presented at the conference on "The Nun in the Postmodern World," sponsored by the Suenens Foundation in Leuven, Belgium, 31 May--4 June 2001. My thanks to Dr. Doris Donnelly, director of the Suenens Foundation and to Mariana Murphy SNJM, to whom I dedicated it on the occasion of her 70th anniversary of religious profession. 2 Sandra M. Schneiders, Finding the Treasure: Locating Catholic Religious Life in a New Ecclesial and Cultural Context, Vol. 1 of Religious Life in a New Millennium (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 2000), p. 348. 3 Schneiders, Finding, p. 330. 4 Celibacy seems to have been characteristic only of the Therapeutae, a lst-centuryJewish ascetic group near Alexandria, Egypt. Scholars debate whether the covenanters at Qumran were celibate and, if so, whether that was a permanent or temporary state. See Lawrence Schiffman, Reclaiming the Dead Sea Scrolls (New York: Doubleday, 1994), pp. 127-143, and Joseph Fitzmyer, Responses to 101 Questions on the Dead Sea Scrolls (New York: Paulist Press, 1992), p. 66. s Schneiders speaks of religious life as "nonnatural" insofar as it involves bypassing the most fundamental natural mediations of the God- November-December 2001 Boys ¯ The Interreligious World human engagement. She distinguishes "nonnatural" from unnatural or antinatural "because nothing is mote fundamental to our humanity than the quest for God." She also notes that this path is fraught with danger, including "ascetical extremism, rigidity, misanthropy, false mysticism, gnosticism and esotericism, elitism" (Finding, pp. 131-132). 6 For an analysis of this reticence, including its problematical character, see Steven M. Cohen and Arnold M. Eisen, The Jew 14/Tthin: Self, Family, and Community in America (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2000), esp. chap. 6, "God and the Synagogue," pp. 155-180. 7 Lewis Weinstein, The Heretic (New York: goodnewfiction.com, 2000), p. 158. Later Weinstein has Perez use Chrysostom in a sermon at the cathedral (see pp. 242-244). s Quoted in Secretariat for Ecumenical and Interreligious Affairs, Catholics Remember the Holocaust (Washington, D.C.: United States Catholic Conference, 1998), p. 32. 9 Finding, p. 336. 10 This is the conclusion of the 1998 Vatican document We Remember: A Reflection on the Shoab; see Catholics Remember the Holocaust. The United States Conference of Catholi~ Bishops (USCCB) has now published a companion volume, Catholic Teaching on the Shoah: Implementing the Holy See's "We Remember" (2001). II Schneiders, Finding, p. 195. 12 I take the phrase "abusing God" from the work of David R. Blumenthal, Facing the Abusing God: A Theology of Protest (Louisville: Westminster/John Knox, 1993). 13 On the Sisters of Sion, see my Has God Only One Blessing?Judaimt as a Source of Christian Self-Understanding (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 2000), pp. 17-22. 14 "The questions man poses to God may be the same God poses to man. Nevertheless, it is man who must live--and formulate--it. In so doing, he challenges God, which is perm. issible, indeed required. He who says no to God is not necessarily a renegade. Everything depends on the way he says it, and why. One can say anything as long as it is for man, not against him, as long as one remains inside the covenant; only if you repudiate and judge your people from the outside will you become a renegade." Elie Wiesel, One Generation AJ~er (New York: Avon, 1972), p. 216. ,s Blumenthal, Facing the Abusing God, pp. 284-285. 16 "'Dominus Iesus': On the Unicity and. Salvific Universality of Jesus Christ and the Church," Origins 30, no. 14 (14 September 2000). It is dated 6 August 2000 and was issued on 5 September 2001--ironically, the same week as Jewish scholars released Dabru Emet, an eight-point statement responding to Christian attempts to come to terms with anti- Judaism. (For Dabru Emet, see www.jcrelations.net or www.icjs.org; also Tikva Frymer-Kensky, David Novak, Peter Ochs, David Fox Sandmel, ReviewforReligious and Michael Signer, Christianity in Jewish Terms (Boulder: Westview Press, 2000). ,7 See, e.g., Michael Barnes, Christian Identity and Religious Pluralism: Religions in Conversation (Nashville: Abingdon, 1989), and S. Mark Heim, Salvations: Truth and Difference in Religion (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1995). ~8 See my "Dominus Iesus and Judaism," forthcoming in Richard Sparks, ed., Proceedings of the Fi~h-sixth Annual Convention of the Catholic Theological Society of America. 19 For an account of something of what I have learned from Jews, see my Jewish Christian Dialogue: One Woman's Experience (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1997). 20 Monique Alexandre, "Early Christian Women," in/t History of Women in the West, Vol. 1, From Ancient Goddesses to Christian Saints, ed. Pauline Schmitt Pantel (Cambridge: Belknap Press, 1992), pp. 407-444 (citation, p. 420). 21 Cited in Judith Plaskow, "Feminist Anti-Judaism and the Christian God," Journal of Feminist Studies in Religion 7, no. 2 (Fall 1991): 104-107; in Helen P. Fry, Christian-Jewish Dialogue: A Reader (Exeter, U.K.: University of Exeter Press, 1996), p. 233. 22 Christine Schenk CSJ, "Celebrating the Inclusive Jesus," Celebration: An Ecumenical Worship Resource (February 2000): 80-84 (citation, 81-82). 23 Mary Rose D'Angelo, "Gender in the Origins of Christianity: Jewish Hopes and Imperial Exigencies," in Joseph Martos and Pierre Hegy, eds., Equal at the Creation: Sexism, Society, and Christian Thought (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1998), pp. 25-48 (citation, p. 25). 24 Amy-Jill Levine, "Lilies of the Field and Wandering Jews: Biblical Scholarship, Women's Roles, and Social Location," in Ingrid Rosa Kitzberger, ed., Transformative Encounters: Jesus and Women Re-Viewed (Leiden: Brill, 1999): pp. 330-352 (citation, p. 332). 2s See Anthony J. Saldarini, Pharisees, Scribes, and Sadducees in Palestinian Society (Wilmington: Michael Glazier, 1988); also his "Pharisees," in David Noel Freedman et al., eds., The Anchor Bible Dictionary, Vol. 5 (New York: Doubleday, 1992), pp. 289-303. 26 Tereza Cavalcanti, "Jesus, the Penitent Woman, and the Pharisee," Journal of Hispanic/Latino Theology 2, no. 1 (1994): 28-40 (citation, 40). 27 H. Kinukawa, Women and Jesus in Mark: A Japanese Feminist Perspective (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1994), pp. 12, 27. 28 See Ross S. Kraemer, "Jewish Women and Christian Women: Some Caveats," in Kraemer and Mary Rose D'Angelo, eds., Women and Christian Origins (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1999), pp. 35-49 (citation, p. 36). 29 Schneiders, Finding, pp. 334 and 255, respectively. I am also uncomfortable with her section on Jesus as a prophetic model in her otherwise superb 2000 Madeleva Lecture, With Oil in Their Lamps: Faith, Feminism, and the Future (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 2000), pp. 97-108. In my November-December 2001 Boys ¯ Tbe lnterreligious Worm judgment, greater sensitivity to the heterogeneity of lst-century Judaism (arguments about Sabbath observance and the Temple [see pp. 100-101] were part of this heterogeneity), recognition that the Roman prefect controlled appointment of the high priest ("Nevertheless Jesus was executed by the Romans on the charge brought against him by the official of Judaism," p. 100), and contextualizing of phrases such as the "narrowness that had marred religion from long before his birth in the exclusivity of the Jews" would provide a more nuanced context for her claims. 30 Paula Fredriksen, Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews: A Jewish Life and the Emergence of Christianity (New York: Alfred Knopf, 1999), esp. pp. 197-207. 3, Kraemer, "Jewish Women and Chrisfan Origins, pp. 37-39. 32 Elyse Goldstein, ReVisions: Seeing Torah through a Feminist Lens (Woodstock, Vermont: Jewish Lights Publishing, 1998), esp. pp. 94-114. 33 D'Angelo, "Gender Hopes," p. 25. Mary at the Window Tawdry as any plastic trinket outshopped To some Asian source, and mass-produced In garish glass-like gold and blue To catch the sun, Mary Most Holy is reduced To a window ornament, turning to face out, Turning on filaments again for facing in On household disorder, dissension, kitchenwork, Children at play on the floor, where a thin Shaft of shining blue light circles one Dazzled child looking up: Mary catches a son. Nancy G. Westerfield R~vie~v for Religious A. PAUL DOMINIC Unsuspected Mission MeisSion, which is much more talked about than put into xecution by talkers, is at bottom a very simple human experience of sharing with others our living faith in God. As such it is accessible to all of us anywhere, if only we are interested in it. It can begin whenever we meet others and spontaneously converse with them. It seems that not enough has been said or even thought about these ordinary human encounters, without which no mission can be started or sustained, whereas perhaps too much has been said about progressive modes of mission. Genesis of a New Mission With the founding of the Society of Jesus, St. Ignatius Loyola surely initiated a whole new saga of mission in the world of his time. The saga, however, may not be or even seem new any more. In fact, since Vatican Council II, there has been quite a legitimate revision of his ideas about promoting and defending the faith. But one exercise of that old mission has still not lost its newness; it is relevant today, but without making a splash. That exercise is simply, to quote St. Ignatius's own words, "to be profitable to individuals by spiritual conversation.''~ Accordingly, unlike the monasteries in mountain solitudes from the time of St. Benedict in the 6th century or the hermitages erected in earlier times in the desert far away from the evil world, the Jesuit residences came to be situated near the centers of towns and cities, where people would gather and A. Paul Dominic sJ writes again from Satyodayam; 12-5-33 S. Lallaguda; Secunderabad 500 017; India. November-December 2001 Dominic ¯ Unsuspected Mission Different from preaching, the mission of spiritual conversation is best characterized and distinguished as pure and simple conversation. intermingle. Only then would the Jesuits be able to meet the people naturally enough, have normal dealings with them, and, as occasions arose, converse with them spiritually. That was an unassuming exercise of mission with an enduring validity, for there can be no time when personal mission, that is, reaching out to specific individuals wherever we are and keeping them company, will be out of tune with the times. The movement of new mission, which in God's providence the Society of Jesus came to be and even stand for, was itself a product of person-to-person missions that Ignatius himself exercised. Having sensed the working of God in himself, he could not keep the experience to himself, but felt an urge to share it with others. He would have certainly loved the angel Raphael's words: "It is good to conceal the secret of a king, but to acknowledge and reveal the works of God, and with fitting honor to acknowledge him" (Tb 12:7, NRSV unless otherwise indicated), Sharing with others his treasured experience of God gradually became a mode of life for him. He came to see it as a matter of course for him: to glorify God and at the same time be of help to others within his reach. Whereas his first contacts were the women whom he chanced upon at his usual haunts of the chapel or hospital, his fame)us beneficiaries were Pierre Favre (now a blessed) and Francis Xavier (now a saint) and a few others at the University in Paris, who with him came to form the Society of Jesus. It is no wonder that people who experienced the charm of his spiritual conversation tried to. be like him. It seems that the early Jesuits' fecundity in mission was in no small way owing to their exercise of spiritual conversation. Xavier, who blazed the trail of mission for the nascent Jesuit order and for the church of his day, was known for his extraordinary expertise in spiritual conversation. Not only companions of his like Peter Canisius (now a saint) witnessed to itfl but also the people of Bologna, who could say twenty years after his short stay with them: "He spoke little, but with great persuasivene.ss. He talked of divine things with great Review for Religious ¯ devotion, and his words penetrated into the hearts of his hearers and held them fast.''3 Itis a pity that those who have criticized Xavier's mission outreach with their post-Vatican II historical hindsight have failed woefully the postmodern mission by their ignorance of the practical skill in which Xavier excelled, namely, conversational mission--which, to be sure, will be out of date when humans cease speaking and being sociable. The Makeup of Conversational Mission Though the expression "conversational mission" used just now, and the equivalent expressions used earlier, are self-explanatory enough, there is nothing like getting full information straight from the horse's mouth. What did Ignatius himself say when he spoke to his little band of friends regarding their kind of preaching. We get some idea from his answer to a Dominican authority's peremptory question "Whatever do you preach?" Ignatius answered: "We do not preach but do speak familiarly of spiritual things with people, as one does after dinner, with those who invite us." In this brief and frank response--which, however, his interlocutor considered equivocal--one may discern and recognize three elements of the conversational mission: (1) conversation itself, (2) a veering to spiritual matters, and (3) a pleasant, familiar tone of voice. Notice that this Ignatian anecdote itself demonstrates spiritual conversation. A contrasting example may clarify the matter. Gregory of Nyssa had observed Christians in the marketplace of Constantinople. He reported: Constantinople is full of mechanics and slaves, who are all of them profound theologians, preaching in the shops and the streets. If you want a man to change a piece of silver, he informs you wherein the Son differs from the Father; if you ask the price of a loaf, you are told by way of reply that the Son is inferior to the Father; and, if you inquire whether the bath is ready, the answer is that the Son is made out of nothing,s This is certainly not true spiritual conversation, having only a specious similarity to it. Different from preaching, the mission of spiritual conversation is best characterized and distinguished as pure and simple conversation. It is that first and foremost, with no agenda except being present to others and getting acquainted.6 One talks with a November-December 2001 Dominic * Unsuspected Mission single individual or a small cluster, not a crowd. Such a conversation happens when we adopt towards people a welcoming attitude, perhaps forgoing for the time being our own business or preoccupation. It unfolds when we are truly ourselves, without putting on airs or having an ax to grind. It is engaging by its very nature, as we respond sensitively to the personal and situational stimuli around, now by word, now by silence, and all through by our bearing. Such a conversation does not follow any pattern except that of people letting one another's personalities freely rise to the occasion according to the twists and turns of the talk and the topics. If there is any way of programming it from beginning to end, it is by eager and attentive listening. Such conversing is like the breath of wind whose coming and going is beyond our reckoning, but which refreshes us and gives us pleasure. It is as natural and spirited as that. Engaging in it, we take others' measure and strive to bring out the best in them, thereby improving and testing ourselves (Si 9:14; 27:5). When people open the homes of their hearts in this hospitable way, Abha-God cannot be far away (1 Jn 4:12). If the art of dealing and conversing with people is, obviously enough, a natural human talent or acquirement, it is also, according to the mind of Ignatius, a grace.7 Perhaps such an understanding may be read between the lines of Paul's "Let your conversation be always full of grace, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how to answer everyone" (Col 4:6, NIV). Surely any conversation done ¯ in the reverent awareness of the Lord Jesus (Col 3:17; 1 P 3:15) will enable us to be at our best, natural or supernatural. Thinking along this line, perhaps, Kahlil Gibran could counsel: "When you meet your friend on the roadside or in the marketplace, let the spirit in you move your lips and direct your tongue.''8 Those who make sense of this and make spa~e for the Spirit will come to know how the~ are led, even in the face of the unfriendly, to talk without anxious forethought and yet reveal a truth that they themselves are not directly aware of (Mr 10:17-20). Besides such inspired moments, however, there are bound to be routine occasions or chance meetings when they will have to exercise their grace of conversation on a more deliberate, reflective level. At the appropriate time they will speak on spiritual affairs, as Sirach counseled long ago: "Let your conversation be with intelligent people, and let all your discussion be about the law of the Most High. Let the. righteous be your dinner companions, and let your glory be in the fear of the Lord" (Si 9:15-16). And the more Review for Religious they speak from the abundance of their heart, the better (Mt 12:34), following Paul's declaration "we believe, and so we speak" (2 Co 4:13). They will not resort to spiritual generalities, but will offer a specifically personal spiritual word of witness arising from whatever God has produced in the recesses of their heart and the externals of their life, as St. Paul does often (2 Co 1:4). In general, such conversational talk of God will be directed to what the partners in conversation require (Col 4:6). Far from anything bordering on evil, it will be "only what is useful for building up, as there is need, so that [our] words may give grace to those who hear" (Ep 4:29), furthering their interior progress and stimulating their power for good in a society that hungers for more than small mercies: namely, justice, freedom, good faith, neighborliness, equality, and, not least, economic sufficiency, the proof of all the above? This conversational mission is to be carried on, for all its spiritual vision, in pleasant, discreet, and wholesome familiarity, the kind that may be witnessed (as Ignatius remarks) between the glad host and the happy guest who take time after a good meal to share what is in their hearts. Familiarity is the climate in which the conversational seeds of the spirit are best sown and harvested. Familiarity, however, is of different levels. The greater the familiarity, the better the opportunity for spiritual conversation. And so it is worthwhile to work discreedy towards deepening the familiarity. Familiarity or intimacy being the opposite of imposition, no conversational mission can be attempted if people make us aware that they would rather be left alone. Avoiding the least intrusion into their privacy, then, we must gendy gain their favor by our genuine respect for them, our interest in them as individuals with unique endowments, and our concern for any particular needs they may have. It is a matter of sincere accommodation, becoming all things to all people (I Co 9:22), all the while being sensitive to their ideals, their finer spiritual instincts. This is neighborliness towards them, without which no mission for their spiritual welfare can ever be thought of. So, even if they are not well disposed towards us, we deal with them pro-actively and seek to win them over, as God does. It is our familiarity with God that should overflow in our relation with others and make them feel at home with us. If we ever succeeded in this way of living, we would perhaps never meet anyone, however far gone in error, without effecting a change for the better. Blessed Pierre Favre was known precisely for such surprisingly wonderful encounters as November-December 2001 Dominic ¯ Unsus~ected Mission he spoke about God without boring or annoying anyone, and so was lauded by Ignatius himself as one who could draw the water of grace from hardened souls. For those who would learn from him, here is a little precious lesson that he confided in a letter to a friend: In the first place., anyone who desires to be serviceable to heretics of the present age should hold them in great affection, . . . putting out of his heart all thoughts and feelings that tend to their discredit. The next thing he must do is win their goodwill and love by friendly dealings and converse on matters about which there is no difference between us, taking care to avoid all controversial subjects that lead to bickering and mutual recriminations. The things that unite us ought to be the first ground of our approach, not the things that keep us apart?~ Scriptural Suggestiveness Speaking about his spiritual discipleship, Ignatius confided that he was taught by God as a child by his master. In sharing his spiritual knowledge with others, however, he used theological and scriptural ideas and language, as in evident in his Spiritual Exercises. The question arises, then, whether there are scriptural indications behind his idea of conversational mission? Rescued by Jesus for Abba-God, Ignatius bums with desire to follow suit: looking for ways to edify and help his neighbors, he discovers that spiritual conversation significantly serves that purpose. Advocating this practice expressly and officially in the Jesuit Constitutions, he advances this reason: "The Lord has given care of his neighbor to everyone."~2 There seems to be reference to Sirach 17:12 or 17:14b and Luke 10:25-37, and certain other passages have a bearing on his divinely favored understanding of the mission of conversation. One is: "Proclaim the message; be persistent when the time is favorable or unfavorable; convince, rebuke, and encourage, with the utmost patience in teaching" (2 Tm 4:2). Is there much in common between proclaiming and conversing? Proclaiming is the activity which is described by the Greek verb kerussein here in 2 Timothy. Elsewhere in the New Testament, the " leprous man and the demoniac who were healed by Jesus, and the friends who witnessed Jesus' healing of the deaf and dumb man, are later "proclaiming" the blessing they received. Obviously, their proclaiming cannot be anything other than simply and Review for Religious enthusiastically telling people everywhere about their good fortune (Mk 1:45; 5:20; 7:36). This would have been conversation, involving relatively few people here and there--particularly impressive ahd contagious conversation, to be sure, but conversation nonetheless. Does the same sense hold when kerussein is used to denote the proclaiming activity of Jesus?13 Does kerussein have the same connotation of conversation here too? It does, for the following reason. Jesus himself presents his characteristic way of mission in terms of eating and drinking, while contrasting himself with his predecessor (Mt 11:19). In so doing he does not simply distinguish his way as the path of enjoyment or pleasure as opposed to the other's ascetical approach; but rather reveals himself in his mission as one who welcomes and enjoys and also extends fellowship with people, not of a class, but of all classes, brushing aside all prevalent social and religious taboos. So as he honors meal invitations--whether from Pharisees like Simon, tax collectors like Levi, friends like Martha, Mary, and Lazarus, or the hosts of wedding celebrations as at Cana, he in ~rn welcomes and plays host not only to his disciples but also--something that escapes people's attention--to public sinners and to social outcasts like the poor, the crippled, and the blind. If table companionship, being a guest or a kind of host, is characteristic of his ministry, it is not, as the Pharisees judge, by way of being a glutton and a drunkard, but of doing what goes with moderate eating and drinking, that is, having a conversation. C.S. Lewis remark, "The table is from time immemorial the place for talk." 14 This was particularly the case at feasts or parties that Jesus went to, with people reclining at table and engaging in prolonged conversation, valuing it more than food and drink.Is And, if a rabbi like Jesus is the chief guest, he has an excellent opportunity to cast his pearls26 Jesus makes use of such occasions to meet and converse with people at leisure and at length about what they miss and long for in life.17 When Jesus sends his disciples on their mission, he wants them to do no more than what they have seen him doing (Mk 3:14; 6:12). He bids them stay in the houses where they are welcome, in accordance with the sacred duty of hospitality in the East; there, during mealtime and at other times, they are sure to find Is there much in common between proclaiming and conversing? November-December 2001 Dominic ¯ Unsuspected Mission opportunities for spiritual conversation. No matter how variously mission was carried on in the early church, kerussein in the sense explained above was surely part of the picture. It is interesting and revealing that, like his Master, Peter was accused of eating with those outside his Jewish fold. He was doing what he had seen Jesus doing, namely, conversing with those at table, sharing with them the word of God, and bringing them graces of the kingdom of Abba-God. And Paul too, despite the popular impression of him as addressing small and large crowds, no doubt employed the conversational mode of mission, especially towards the end during his two years of semicaptivity at Rome, as Luke's use of the word kerussein at the conclusion of Acts seems to suggest. The Practice of Unobtrusive Missioners The conversational mission, as traced above, is not something apart from life, but is very much part of it. One may find this confirmed in St. Paul's general exhortation: "Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly; teach and admonish one another in all wisdom" (Col 3:16). Though Ignatius specialized in the art of the conversational word and trained his Jesuit companions in it, one should not consider it something only for initiates.~s There can be no doubt that ordinary Christians in all times and climes have, like Ignatius in the first flush of his conversion, taken spontaneously to the conversational mission, and with tangible results. Their names have not come down to us, but they are in the company of the little Hebrew servant girl whose brief remark led Naaman the Syrian to find the true, unseen God (2 K 5:1-19). Describing the (Protestant Christian) mission that flourished in the mid 19th century among the Telugus in Andhra, South India, Rajaiah D. Paul can say: "From the very beginning of the movement., the work of evangelization was carried on by the infant native church itself, commencing with one individual and then extending, by natural and inevitable growth, like that of a living tree . The people followed much their own impulses . The quiet conversation when visiting friends and relations, the zealous defense of the truth when Christianity was assailed by others, the simple enunciation of belief when a reason for the hope that is in them was demanded; these, accompanied by a life consistent with the demands of the new religion, were what Review for Religious produced fruit in fresh accessions to Christianity." ~9 Reflecting on such experience of mission, which is perhaps more common than many suspect, one may discern an interplay of Christian fecundity and mission. The word fecundity, incidentally, may not be in common parlance now; but, as Henri Nouwen said, "it is a word worth reclaiming, for it can put us in touch with our deepest human potential to bring forth life"2° even in the ordinary circumstances of life. He tells a story of a bereaved South American mother. After celebrating Mass in memory of her young son killed in a tragic accident, he tried to condole with her. Caught up, however, with his own sorrow for her, he was not looking at her and not listening to her invitation to come home and have a meal with the family. Sensing this, the woman went closer to him and spoke to him gently, looking into his eyes: "Don't be so depressed, Father. Don't you know that God loves our Antonio, that God gave him to us for a few years and now wants to bring him to heaven? We are grateful that he was with us and we are grateful too that he can now be with God forever. We are grateful to you also. God loves us all and cares for us all.''21 One of the most dramatic and recent exponents of spiritual conversation is the North American woman named Peace Pilgrim. The Wise Choice of Celebrated Missioners Besides these anonymous but locally fecund missioners, there are celebrities in the international scene, like Frank Buchman (1879-1961), who made the most of spiritual conversation. For instance, along with swaying groups and governments by his moral authority as founder of the then quite active movement called Moral Re-Armament, Buchman also converted and gave life to all sorts of religious or secular-minded people by his individual conversations and dealings with them, and he inspired them to do likewise. A story is told of his stay at a hotel in Milan a few months before he died: "There were three barmen at the hotel. Frank Buchman did not buy drink from them. He went into their bar and gave them the bread of life. They and their families all found November-December 2001 Dominic ¯ Unsuspected Mission something new from their friendship with him. One of then said of him, 'Dr. Buchman is different from most of the people I see. We have cleaned things up here since he came. Most of the leaders of Italy come to this bar sooner or later. The Foreign Minister was here the other day. He was so interested in what we told him about Buchman that he almost forgot his drink.'''22 One of the most dramatic and recent exponents of spiritual conversation is the North American woman named Peace Pilgrim (1908-1981). Not a Christian, she described herself as a religions woman with a vision of peace for the world. Keeping to her self-chosen double-barreled name, she committed herself to walking prayerfully as a pilgrim among people, eager to meet them and talk to them about the chances for peace. For this purpose she sported a short tunic with "Peace Pilgrim" in front and "25,000 Miles on Foot for Peace" on the back; she succeeded in drawing people into engaging conversations on the possibilities of peace in the modern world. To her pleasant surprise, she found the general response positive, with either a lively curiosity or a genuine interest in peace efforts. Her humble mission, basically human and Christian, touched people's hearts and even became a media phenomenon. This is how she recalls its beginning: "The birthplace of the pilgrimage was at the Tournament of Roses parade in Pasadena, California. I walked ahead along the line of the march, talking to people and handing out peace messages, and noticing that the holiday spirit did not lessen the genuine interest in peace. When I had gone about halfway, a policeman put his hand on my shoulder and I thought he was going to tell me to get off the line of the march. Instead he said, 'What we need is thousands like you.'''23 Her personal encounters soon became media events spreading her message of peace. What began fruitfully on 1 January 1953 continued with greater and greater effectiveness till her death in 1981 during her seventh talking pilgrimage. The Like Choice in India Ignatius, too, began his mission as an obscure pilgrim on the move. Thinking, as an Indian, of the pilgrim Ignatius and others before and after him in the Christian world, I cannot but admire the sureness of their spiritual instinct, which many Indians have as well. India, too, is an ancient land of pilgrims going on regular Review for Religious pilgrimages, besides, of course, the lifelong pilgrims who keep moving across the length and breadth of the country or stay put in a monastery (math) or in a forest area. It is pleasant to recall that, as Peace Pilgrim was exercising her newfound permanent mission in the American world, two (Catholic) Christians--Joseph Thambi in Andhra Pradesh and Peter Reddy (a convert from Hinduism through Lutheranism) ir~ Tamil Nadu--were living in India a life much like that of the sannyasis, going about and sharing their spiritual pleasure and treasure with others who came their way. Even before them Sadhu Sunder Singh of Punjab, a Sikh-turned-(Anglican) Christian, had blazed a sannyasi kind of mission trail as early as 1908.24 Part of "Vie Voyag~re" However unusual and surprising their vocation may have been, the personalities mentioned above knew how to exercise their mission in ways not only unusual but most ordinary. They used the ordinary human capacity of conversation to excite and evoke spiritual awareness in people. Such spiritual talk, being part of normal sofiial intercourse, can and ought to thrive among Christians anywhere; all they need is a good measure of the Christian spirit of people on pilgrimage (Heb 3:12-4:11; 11:8-16). This was the sure but unforeseen way by which even the risen Jesus, making his return pilgrimage to his Abba-Father, reached out to his lost or fallen disciples and sent them on their new mission. Who has not enjoyed the narratives of his accosting them, drawing them to speak to him from their heart, and then with inspiriting w~rds arousing their drooping spirits for mission? It is up to us, partners in a holy heavenly calling, to keep our eyes on Jesus and, thus encouraged, to encourage one another day after day on our mission journey, a journey at once inward and heavenward (Heb 3:1, 13). Such was characteristically the vie voyagkre or missionary life of Mary, too, whom Marguerite Bourgeoys (1620-1700), the foundress of the Congregation de Notre-Dame de Montreal, contemplated as the model of conversation with others. After composing my own article, I learned this from Mary Anne Foley's recent article.25 Because of the reported affinity of her spirituality with the lgnatian variety, I suspect that the Sisters of Notre-Dame may well have more to say about Marguerite's conversational mission, adding to what I, have said about Ignatius's. November-December 2001 Dominic ¯ Unsuspected Mission Notes t St. Ignatius of Loyola, The Constitutions of the Society of Jesns, trans. George E. Ganss SJ (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1970), p. 283, no. [648]. 2 See Thomas H. Clancy SJ, The Conversational Word of God (Anand, India: Gujarat Sahitya Prakash, 1978), pp. 59, 63. 3 So Schurhammer, Francis Xavier, Vol. 1, as in Clancy, The Conversational Word of God, p. 11. ~ See Clancy, Conversational Word, p. 9. 5 William Barclay, The Letters to Timothy, Titus, and Philemon (Bangalore: Theological Publications in India, 1990), p. 127. 6 In an exhortation Jer6nimo Nadal shares what he has learned about this from Ignatius. See Clancy, Conversational Word,~pp. 53-54. 7 St. Ignatius, Constitutions, pp. 277, 332-333, nos. [624d] and [814]. s Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet (New Delhi: Allied Publishers, 1976), p. 72. 9 See St. Ignatius, Constitutions, pp. 113,283, nos. [115] and [650]. l0 See Clancy, Conversational Word, pp. 53, 65. I I See Clancy, Conversational Word, pp. 20-21. 12 St. Ignatius, Constitutions, p. 113, no. [115]. ~3 See Lucien Legrand, Mission in the Bible (Pune, India: Ishvani Publication, 1992), p. 60. ~4 C.S. Lewis, The Four Loves (Glasgow: Collins Fount Paperbacks, 1977), p. 91. t5 See Albert Nolan, Jesus before Christianity (London: Darton, LongTnan, and Todd, 1977), p. 38. t6 See William Barclay, The Gospel of Luke (Bangalore, India: Theological Publications in India, 1975), p. 94. ~7 The objection that Jesus' table talk does not qualify to be kerussein since it lacks the usual fanfare of publicity of the kerux or royal herald can be met by remarking that Jesus, being the herald of the compassionate God, does not carry himself like the heralds of proud earthly rulers. 's See William Barclay, The Letters to Pbilippians. Colossians, and Thessalonians (Bangalore: Theological Publications in India, 1975), p. 126. ~9 Cecil Hargreaves, Asian Christian Thinking (Delhi: ISPCK, 1979), p. 97. 20 Henri J.M. Nouwen, In the House of the Lord (London: Darton, Longrnan, and Todd, 1986), p. 33. 2~ Nouwen, House, p. 49. 22 Peter Howard, Frank Buchman's Secret (Bombay: Bharatiya Vidya Bhavan, 1962), p. 2. Review for Religious 23 Peace Pilgrim, compiled by some of her friends (Santa Fe, New Mexico: Ocean Tree Books, 1994), p. 27. 24 See P.A. Augustine, "On a Pilgrimage to Rampur," Vidyajyoti Journal, March 2001, pp. 205-213. ~s See Mary Anne Foley CND, "Spirituality for Mission: Marguerite Bourgeoys and the Ignatian Tradition," Review for Religious 60, no. 1 (lanuary-February 2001): 53-57. Straggler Because he was youngest, his gift ranked least among the others, last of the lambing. But somewhere between the start of his journey and its final stretch he'd lost the creature, himself lost as well. Then he followed the star, as told, so stumbled upon the stable by accident, or design, call it what you will. Afraid, empty-handed, embarrassed, yet drawn to the manger, he knelt, close as a whisper. "I lost my gift." The Babe's mother, softly, "No, child, yours is best of all." Leonard Cochran OP November-December 2001 MARIE BEHA On the Seventh Day God Rested spiritual directions Maybe God rested (Gn 2:3), but we cannot. God could afford to rest; after all, creation was finished and "it was very good," but we rarely experience the luxury of seeing our work completed or of feeling satisfied with it. So we find Sabbath observance hard, whether it is the day of rest at the end of our work week or those mini- Sabbaths that occur naturally in our lives. Our tendency to fill all these times makes them anything but restful, even though it seems that resting should be at the heart of Sabbath observance, our own as well as God's. Sabbath Fillers Mmost any "thing" will do to fill up Sabbath time and minimize rest: work left over from the previous week, or getting ahead on the week to come. Fun and games can keep us busy. "Good works," everything from returning phone calls (or catching up with email, as though that were possible) to a frantic round of visiting sick relatives or neighbors, fill in the hours. Even an overload of required worship can make Sabbath more a burden than a rest. Marie Beha OSC writes from the Monastery of St. Clare; 1916 North Pleasantburg Drive; Greenville, South Carolina 29609. Revie'w for Religious So, you ask, what is a person to do? The problem with all of the above is not with the what but with the why and bow of our doing. The need for accomplishment that motivates us is revealed in the satisfied but weary sigh that accompanies our Sunday evening summation: "I really got a lot done this weekend" or the equally tired but dissatisfied confession "My to-do list is as long as ever." Why are we so driven to do? Too often we fill our days, including our Sundays, to fill ourselves. No wonder there are never enough hours in the week. "Resting" risks having to face the reveal-ing silence, the emptiness inside. So we hurry on, stuffing every day, including the Sabbath, with self-satisfying work. Even our worship can be performance oriented. What does "We had such a good liturgy this morning!" really mean? Are our criteria the spirited music, the well-delivered homily, and the smooth flow of the service--or being moved to heartfelt prayer and challenged to genuine interior conversion? Hopefully, the music and the homily prepare the way for "worship in spirit and truth" On 4:24), but they may simply leave us entertained and content. Worship can become crowded as though more equals better. When that is the case, we can hardly expect to "rest secure" (Ps 16:9). Nor can we if haste to have it finished clocks our obser-vance. Shortening periods of silence in order to get through our quota of prayers is anything but worshipful. The pace of our performance, in liturgy or elsewhere, may also keep us "worried and distracted by many things" (Lk 10:41). We are still meeting deadlines, even when being together is itself the goal. Family time has to be scheduled with the precision of airport takeoffs and land-ings, surface activity substituting for person.al relationships. Though we are together, we do not allow ourselves opportunity to really enjoy each other, much less become intimate. Scheduling every moment, hurrying through one activity to begin the next before the first is really completed, all adds up to workday pressure. Though we are weary, it seems we cannot stop or slow down. Our attempts at relaxation only add more stress. Even our sleeping late is restless. So we come to the end of our Sabbath lacking any sense of re-creation. The motivation for such crowding and overscheduling of even leisure time has a lot to do with our self-image, Which stems from our deeply felt need to see ourselves as creative achievers. God has no such need and so can rest, and asks us to begin to do the same. November-December 2001 Beha ¯ On the Seventh Day God Rested Becoming a Sabbath People But you say, "I know all this, know it too well. What I don't understand is howto keep the Sabbath holy" (Dr 5:12). Rather than insisting on utterly severe limitations of activity on the Sabbath, as some Pharisees in the Gospels seem to have done, our recent Catechism (§2185) says nothing about "servile work"; it simply says we should "refrain from . . . work or activities that hinder the worship owed to God, the joy proper to the Lord's Day, the performance of the works of mercy, and the appropriate relax-ation of mind and body." Especially for the many of us who do almost no manual (or "servile") work on weekdays, spading in the garden may be a wonderful thing to do on Sundays. Churchgoing is not supposed to be the only activity that makes the seventh day special, though some neglect even this. For those who do partic-ipate in Sunday worship, however, it may become just one more item packed into a hectic weekend schedule. After it, we may feel permitted to spend the remainder of the day on ourselves--and then squander it on hecticness that neither praises God nor refreshes us. And that is precisely the problem with much of our Sabbath observance. This is God's day. Like God, we are to work most days at cre-ating this world, making a garden of it, if you will. But also, like God, we are to rest from our labor one day and so gain something of the divine perspective. Work is meant to predominate since this is the way our world takes form and shape--and we ourselves are likewise formed by that very shaping. Through work we become what we are meant to be: responsible cocreators of this beautiful world of ours. Made from this earth, we are called to care for it, to be nourished by it, and in the end to return to it. But there is more to our human vocation than this. Though made from the earth, of the earth, we are ultimately from and for God. Sabbath observance rhythmically registers this reality of human existence in our lives. Between this week's labor and the next, we stop and look up. Like God, we rest. Although our Sabbath observance is brief and limited, it is there to prevent our being worn down by the activity needed to work out our salvation. Sabbath prepares us for an eternal rest when our work will be complete and our being-with-God just begun. The original commandment, "Keep holy the Sabbath," is the third commandment, after those forbidding worship of false gods and taking God's name in vain, All three put us in the context of Review for Religious God's original covenant with his chosen people. Observing these commandments is our covenantal response. More than moral law, the Sabbath describes a relationship. Since we are God's people, we need to be holy as God is holy, working and resting as God does. Observing the Sabbath forms us into the divine image, helping us realize our identity as individuals and as a people. Why did God rest on the seventh day? To enjoy the goodness of that wondrous creation. We do the same. Enjoyment, part of our human capacity for contemplation, moves us beyond the every-day criteria of use and usefulness. All too often, when we experience something new, our question "What's this?" is followed at once by "What's it good for?" Sabbath offers us a respite from such a utilitarian viewpoint; it gives us an opportunity to affirm reality as good in itself. We receive it as a divine gift, even before we discover whether if fits into our schema of things. We appreciate its beauty, even if it is not to our taste. We accept its truth without need to compre-hend, much less control, its mystery. Besides deepening our capacity for appreciation, Sabbath leisure forms us into a free people. Originally a way for the Jewish people to celebrate their liberation from Egypt's oppres-sion, it can open us to similar possibilities. We are not meant to be slave laborers, nor to enslave others to relentless productivity. Stepping back from what we do six days a week enables us to see where we are oppressed, where we may be oppressors. In the leisure that this seventh day provides, we are free to ask ourselves what we would like to do if we had the time. What would re-create us? No matter if our answers would require more demanding activity than our everyday work; perhaps that is what we would find renewing. After being tied all week to a desk, we may really enjoy discovering and using our bodies at least one day a week. Professionals may relax in an activity that allows them the leisure to be rank amateurs, while people whose everyday is dull or dreary discover their potential as "professional" chefs or musicians. Seeing each other in more creative ways keeps us open to the surprises that lie untapped in the hearts of us all. Someone who lacks both time and talent for learning to play music well can still More than moral law, the Sabbath describes a relationship. November-December 2001 Beha ¯ On the Seventh Day God Re, ted enjoy the creativity of a less-than-professional performance. Attempting portrait painting may not produce a recognizable like-ness, much less something that can be sold, yet it can fill someone's need for self-expression. Sabbath Free Time The Sabbath also provides us with "free time," allowing us to "waste" some of it. For productive Americans the mere phrase "wasting time" sounds vaguely immoral, even though time is a giJ~. We cannot earn even a single additional day of life, nor are we billed for the ones we have received. Sabbath observance opens us to the possibility of"doing nothing." Even a brief period given over to deliberate inactivity can, if nothing else, show us how enslaved we have become to filling time. When not doing some-thing useful, we feel threatened by nonexistence: what are we good for? Doing nothing translates readily into being nothing; that is why it is painful, at least at first. But, with patient practice and a willingness to go below surface unease, we can discover a deepening quiet underneath all our activity. As with a swiftly moving river, there is a silence inside that is full of life and awaits the exploration of our doing nothing. Enjoying what is, being free to do something nonproductive that in fact re-creates us, can be forms of Sabbath worship for us creatures as we learn who we are and why we were made. Personal relationships require a certain spaciousness, and this is true of our friendship with God. On the Sabbath we and God spend time together. Sometimes we talk or argue, sometimes we are simply together in comfortable or uncomfortable silence, but we are together. That is what matters. That is the heart of any obser-vance of the Sabbath. And those observances are multiple. Seventh-day observance is paradigmatic but not exhaustive. We can expand one day to a week of R and R: rest, recuperation, or retreat. Or, and this is more common, we can compress Sabbath-like observances to take advantage of moments of free time that open up in any day or that we build into it. The former include snippets of time we often vainly fret away: when the elevator takes forever to arrive, when the answering machine advises us to "hold" until the "next available operator" responds, or when the receptionist explains that "the doctor is running l~te today." Also, we can choose to sit quietly Review for Religious on the side of our bed when we first awaken, we can stretch quietly during a long morning at the computer, we can take a breath of morning air as we walk to the car. All of these can be pieces of Sabbath rest. They can break into our everydayness, much as seventh days interrupt the steady pace of work weeks. They can refresh us. Or they can be uneasy gaps we hasten to fill with nervous activity. How else explain doodling on telephone pads, tapping our feet, consulting our watch at fifteen-second intervals, or rushing our moments of transition. Using Sabbath Leisure Well Taking advantage of all the Sabbath times in our lives requires creative discipline. One suggestion: that we follow the traffic direc-tive "Be prepared to stop." Be ready to allow the seventh day--and the small intervals that force themselves into our best-planned days-- to evoke in us a willingness to surrender to something, to Someone, beyond our own self-interest. Willingness to set our own interests aside opens us to the more of mystery. The capacity for such transcendence demands life-long discipline, a way of living that includes. Sabbath observance. Preparation for Sunday's resting in the Lord begins when Saturday makes some change in our everyday routine. Though the day itself may well be packed full, it can hold its own refreshment, the peace and joy of taking care of things we had to put off earlier in the week. The danger is that "things to do" can take on a life of their own and invade our Sabbath time. Setting some time limits and then prioritizing what most needs to be done is one way of extending Sabbath observance to the vigil. Another is to include in this day of preparation something we like to do, something we look forward to doing: perhaps a special supper menu, a phone visit with a friend, a more leisurely bath, some quiet time before going to bed. The endless possibilities need only be tailored to our own preference. Fruitful observance of the Sabbath itself, like the great com-mandments of loving God, neighbor, and self, revolves around worship, reaching out to others, and re-creative leisure. As we Wil,tingness to set our own interests aside opens us to the more of mystery. November-December 2001 Beba * On the Seventh Da~ God Rested know only too well, these will not happen unless we are prepared to make them happen. Time for worship is probably the easiest of these to schedule, but we still need careful planning lest we end up in such a rush that we spend most of the service becoming quiet enough to worship. Of course, if some truly unforeseen great need comes into our life, we worship by responding to that need. But on most weekends we can prepare for worship at least as carefully as we would for any other important appointment. If a scheduled meeting with an employer requires some attention to appearance and promptness and some thought preparation, worship of our God surely merits the same. Once the time for communal worship has been determined, the rest of the day can revolve around it. How begin our Sabbath day in such a way as to open our heart more fully to God? A slower start, a long shower, a more leisurely breakfast, not only make this day special but also quiet our restlessness, enabling us to be more present in worship. Getting outside for some early morning exercise can do the same, while some silent reflection may help others to change pace and be ready for prayer. Getting to church in ample time seems a necessity if weekday patterns are to be converted into Sabbath stillness. Letting the drivenness, competition, and workday worry fall away prepares our heads as well as our hearts to "hear the word of the Lord" (Is 1:10). Even an unsuccessful effort to attain inner peace and quiet is a form of worship. We are trying to give God's time back to God. Coming into God's presence along with others reminds us that all our worship is communal. We join with others, not only those with whom we immediately share sacred space this week, but all the people of God gathered for worship, observing their Sabbaths on Friday, Saturday, Sunday. Sons and daughters of God, we are all children of Abraham as well, our core unity greater than our all too apparent diversity. Gathering in a common worship space lets us take these theological realities and translate them into practical charity. What begins with the community of worship can flow out to a much wider world or can be focused on care of a family member or a needy neighbor next door. Because we do this together, our charity becomes expansive and yet not abstract. We are reminded of needs that we ourselves may never have experienced or been exposed to, and we are challenged not to forget the small service Review for Religious that has no glamour and wins no notice. In both cases we are stretched beyond ourselves, an attitude basic to any true worship. A third element in our Sabbath observance is leisure, some rest, an opportunity to be made new in re-creation. Unless given some thought, all our Sabbath time can disappear in the more evi-dent good works of prayer and care for others. But a leisure that renews us is basic to true love of God and of others. Something we really enjoy needs to be included in our Sabbath observance if we are to be faithful to a Creator God who first saw that everything was good and then rested in that joy. So Sabbath observance includes time to just be, to play in the world, to enjoy the good-ness that God has made. Our rest is worshipful because it is filled with the truth that this is God's world wrapped in God's care. Sabbath beyond the Sabbath Other Sabbaths beyond seventh-day observance are three-day weekends, full weeks of retreat, and full sabbaticals every seventh year. Smaller Sabbaths can occur at intervals on ordinary days. All of these can contribute to forming us into people of the Sabbath, people who are free and not slaves to what we do. We are wor-shipers in what we do for God, for others, and even for ourselves. Our day can begin with a personal offering of our day to God along with our getting out of bed. It can end with a night prayer that is part of our stretching out in bed and getting comfortable for sleep. What is important is a habit of praying that, over time, becomes worshipful living. Willingness to expose ourselves to worldwide concerns is part of our everyday Sabbath observance. Ordinary caring for others on ordinary days opens our hearts, making more room for God in our life as we do on our Sundays. Sabbath observance is not a narrowing of our lives. It is a grand and glorious expansion that is an image of eternity. -50! November-December 2001 DONALD MACDONALD Where Your Heart Is Adrug pusher in prison said that he well understood the evil effects of drugs, but if he left prison tomorrow the temptation to go back to drugs would be irresistible. He knew of no other way where so much money could be made so easily. He had neith'er the skills nor the connections to obtain a similar lifestyle any other way. A young merchant seaman on shore leave in his home port said that, each rime he d6cked and met his friends, he noticed that their lifestyles had progressed to levels.he could never hope to reach, no matter how hard he worked. They too dealt in drugs. For these and others, the attraction of a lifestyle for self and family funded by illicit drugs almost overwhelmed the power of reason, community feeling, or the gospel to offer something better. Famine of God's Word Many people growing up in our postmodern climate assume that there is no such thing as objective truth; that, even if there is, it is beyond our reach. There was a time when people assumed that reason ruled, or at least could provide us with a guide to life for the benefit of all. Two world wars later, the cruelty of various civil wars and the unavoidable evidence of global human suffering have shown that confidence in reason alone is misplaced. Even the rocketing progress of technology, with its potential for Donald Macdonald SMM writes again from Montfort House; Darnley Road; Barrhead, Glasgow; G78 1TA Scotland, U.K. Review for Religious good, has a number of self-destruct buttons, one or other of which someone is sure to press. The many forms of the media offer access to much that is good, but may also expose us to what is bad or sadly deficient. Western Christians, for example, are aware that a good many writers and producers of television seem to hold that any reverent mention of God is nonsense, and that it is open season for attack-ing the Catholic Church. There are many occasions for people, especially young people, to be misled or bewildered. If this assess-ment is accurate, that does not mean that people cannot avoid being hypnotized or depressed by it all. There is a blunt alterna-tive in the invitation to accept the challenge to "repent and to believe in the gospel" (Mk 1:15). It is crucial that those blessed with the gift of faith understand this as a viable alternative or, better, that, with the confidence of the early church, they give themselves to it as "The Way." ¯ Otherwise, time and energy will be wasted in a possibly dispirited response to what are judged to be the ills of society. To react forever and not initiate risks clouding Ourselves in perpetual negativity. The seemingly omnipotent secular battalions set the agenda, and Christians hurry to set some defenses up, almost breathless in a sadly polluted atmosphere. "Repent".has a 19th-century ring to it and, on that assump-tion, may be dismissed by those who thoroughly accept contem-porary culture. It is, in fact, a call to change our minds, to turn from being self-centered, to open ourselves to the will and guidance of God. It is a dynamic challenge, not a static ruefulness, and it offers a new perspective on life. It may so take hold of us that we become "a living sacrifice," giving ourselves completely to God in response to the wonder of God giving himself to us in Christ (see Rm 12:1-2). Whether it be "us" or "them," Christian tradition recognizes the seed of sin in everyone. It is not the whole picture, but it has its effect on human behavior. Cardinal Newman found "the being of God [to be] as certain to me as the certainty of my own existence." Regarding the society of his day, he said, "There I see a sight which fills me with unspeakable distress., the defeat of good, the success of evil, physical pain, mental anguish, the preva-lence and intensity of sin, the pervading idolatries, the corrup-tions, the dreary hopeless irreligion . [All of this] inflicts upon the mind the sense of a profound mystery, which is absolutely November-December 2001 Macdonald ¯ Where Your Heart Is beyond human solution . Either there is no Creator, or this living society., is in a true sense discarded from his presence." 1 Each category he mentions can be documented today--and perhaps the personal distress, too. Newman famously concluded that, "if there be a God, since there is a God, the human race is implicated in some terrible aboriginal calamity. It is out of joint with the purposes of its Creator.''2 The call to "repent and to believe" is the way out of this morass. "Bad religion" will not do it, and numbers of people have been hurt by it. But before so much hurt and "the dreary hopeless irreligion," with its miasmic presence stunting so much growth, the authentic way of Jesus Christ can guide us. This is the path religious walk on the jour-ney to God. The challenge is as insistent today as it was for the 1st or the 19th century; our century, like earlier ones, needs to hear the Good News. Pope John Paul said recently: "Even in countries evan-gelized many centuries ago, the reality of a 'Christian society' which . . . measured itself explicitly on gospel values is now gone. Today we must courageously face a situation which is becoming increasingly diversified and demanding" (§40).3 The church und.erstandably tries to come to terms with chang-ing structures in the contemporary world. Religious are often sad-dled with plant and too few personnel. Time and energy go into dismantling the structures, with pain to people and religious who have grown up seeing them as part of themselves. For many, this appears a sunset with nothing but darkness ahead to bury a once lively hope. But what if it indicates sunrise and the possibility of a graced opportunity to walk in newness of life, alive to God in Christ Jesus? Approach the Word To be open to thatl "we must rekindle in ourselves the impetus of the beginnings and allow ourselves to be filled with the ardor of the apostolic preaching" (§40). The zeal forming the church in the beginning came from the experienced presence of the Spirit of our risen Loi-d. To view the contemporary from within that perspective is to find ourselves with Someone who faced all that life could do to him, including crucifixion in his mother's presence, and who is alive with us today. Faced by contemporary relativism in a consequently fragmented society, Christians and Review for Religious especially religious would have so much more to offer, and so much more for themselves to believe in, if they realized that "holiness, a message that convinces without need for words, is the living reflection of the face of Christ" (§7). Familiarity with the authen-tic Jesus allows us to reflect him almost intuitively, as our faith is rekindled by who we see in the Gospel. It may then be impossible not to want to share what we have seen and heard. A glance at the Lukan Jerusalem journey (Lk 9:51-19:28) may help us glimpse something of the world of the early church, where the odds against Christians con-tin- uing to exist and influence society were immeasurably greater than anything we face. St. Luke's account begins with a thrice-repeated warning to consider where accompa-nying Jesus may lead, since "[Jesus] set his face to go to Jerusalem" and Samaritan villagers refused him hospitality "because his face was set toward Jerusalem" (9:51, 53). This is serious, not a day trip to the beach. The ostensibly encouraging "I will follow you wherever you go" (9:57) was not met with open arms by Jesus, but by a sharp warning to the individual to examine every syllable and consider what he meant. Does he really intend to volunteer for the same insecurity as his Leader, "the Son of Man [with] nowhere to lay his head" (9:58)? To come with Jesus may mean finding himself left like a leaf in a gutter--does he really want that? Another was bluntly told that commitment to Jesus comes before all family obligations: "Let the dead bury their own dead. ¯ . . You go and proclaim the kingdom of God" (9:60). Another would-be follower said he Would come, "but let me first say farewell to those at my home" (9:61). Jesus would leave by the time he came back, he was told; come now or not at all. The call is for mature persons who, once they have put hand to the 'plow, never look back. The humane pastoral concern of the Lukan Gospel is evident here in view of what happened at journey's end. No doubt this pattern was repeated time and again in the early years of the church. St. Luke's experience led him to believe that, while attrac-tion to Jesus is wonderful, it must include a realistic appraisal of what this means. We need to face ourselves as we face Christ; we Fami!iarity with the authentic Jesus allows us to reflect him almost intuitively. November-December 2001 Macdonald ¯ Where Your Heart Is must engage in true discernment. If Jesus himself "set his face," steeling himself to stay at one with his Father's will, would-be fol- ¯ lowers can do no less on the journey, unless they come as specta-tors and not companions. Fidelity to God's will as the guide to life is a daily and life-long challenge: "I must go on my way today and tomorrow and the day following, for it cannot be that a prophet should perish outside Jerusalem" (13:33). Jesus had to face his greatest challenge, one that would cost him his life. He did so after thoughtful reflec-tion, not as a witless victim. In the light of experience, he honestly asks no less of us. Later on the journey, at a time when "large crowds were traveling with him" (14:25), the message is reinforced as Jesus asks them why they are there: "Whoever comes to me and does not hate father arid mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and even life itself, cannot be my disciple" (14:25-26). Even while noting that Hebrew has no word for prefer, we get the point. Every natural and rational tie must take second place to the gift of myself to Christ. This is not meant to put people off. It asks us to consider seriously what we undertake if we accompany Jesus. We will always have Jesus, but perhaps at the cost of losing much else and, as it may appear, Jesus as we would want him to be. How much are we prepared to pay for that? We are asked to really consider this as we look to give ourselves to the gospel challenge. Our attraction to Jesus has to be constant and compelling if we are to genuinely repent and believe in him. Realistic Lukan pastoral care has Jesus ask yet again for mature thought about what it means to accompany him through life: "Which of you, intending to build a tower, does not first sit down and estimate the cost, to see whether he has enough to complete it? Otherwise . . . not able to finish, all who see it will begin to ridicule him" (14:28-29). A second parable suggests pondering the consequences of going to war with ten thousand against an oppo-nent who has twenty thousand (14:3 i). This reflects the almost unbearable concern of Jesus and the evangelist, who have journeyed together and know the implica-tions of accepting the invitation to come with them. The verses . immediately before and after these challenging parables tell us why: "whoever does not bear his own cross and come after me cannot be my disciple . . . so, therefore, none of you can be my Review for Religious disciple if you do not give up all your possessions" (14:27, 33). The rest is surely silence, with mature prayer, reflection, and advice to help us see where we go from here.4 The Power of the Word Bearing one's cross is both a superb challenge and practical advice in view of the implications of accompanying Jesus. Even at first reading, we pick up the implied heroism, the need for great courage and strength. Yet, on gospel evidence, Jesus' closest disciples display a humanity that we can recognize in ourselves. There is, then, something attainable here. We should not put the challenge on the shelf as an impossible ideal. There is never a suggestion that it is a mistake to accompany Jesus. There must be something superlatively attractive in the per-son of Jesus that enables his disciples to hear such a challenge and actually take it up. The desire to understand how that enablement works is reason for opening our-selves to God's Word in Scripture. This is what was done at the beginning of monastic and reli-gious life. The desert fathers and mothers wanted to know from experience what it meant to leave all for Jesus, to accept the Sermon on the Mount's challenge to live without cares in the freedom promised by the gospel. Scripture helped them make the attempt and persevere. They and their contemporaries saw how Scripture's power could form them into people who have nothing as the world would understand it, yet were themselves rich in the currency of the gospel and able to make others similarly rich. They were truly influential people. The gospel, finding lodging in individual hearts, made for intimacy with God and love for others. As subsequent centuries learned, time given to Scripture, and to the Spirit of our risen Lord found therein, can make abounding love for others available to us too. Disciplined daily reading--allowing the words to register with us, and gently persuading us that we are hearing them for the first time--can transfigure us too. We need such transfiguring to approach a Lukan conclusion: "So, therefore, whoever of you does not renounce all that he has cannot be my disciple" (14:33). Jesus" closest disciples display a humanity that we can recognize in ourselves. November-December 2001 Macdonald ¯ [~here Your Heart Is Nearer our time, that challenge was taken up by Charles de Foucauld, and his life is yet another proof of the transforming power of the word. He took the challenge of the Jerusalem jour-ney to heart. A religious, photocopying his "self-offering," offered me copies to send to friends. The gothic lettering was beautiful, but as I read it I wondered whether I had the courage to keep a copy beside me, much less send one to others. It reads in part: "Father, I abandon myself into your hands. Do with me what-you will. Whatever you may do, I thank you. I am ready for all. I accept all. Let only your will be done in me and in all your creatures. I wish no more than this, O Lord. to surrender myself into your hands without reserve, and with confidence beyond all question-ing, because you are my Father." Here are the terms of acceptance for accompanying Jesus on the journey through life. To invoke the prayer and patronage of such a man in Christ and, if I dare, to keep his self-dedication where I can see it--these things can help me join others on the Jerusalem journey. They can lead me to the sources that fed him. They are necessary in a world where so much competes for my self. Jesus on the Jerusalem journey points out that the heart may not be left empty. Even when all that is evil is forced from the heart, evil may return with immense power and bring "seven other spirits more evil than itself.and the last state of that person is worse thanthe first" (11:26). The evangelists, ~e fathers, Charles de Foucauld, and others can only encourage us to open our hearts to the power that made them mirrors of the gospel. With this shared enthusiasm for God in Christ continually fed by what we see in them, we in turn become faithful members of the company of Jesus. This is not for everyone, but it may be for us. Among the obstacles to accompanying Jesus as sketched in the Jerusalem journey is the risk of having a divided heart. Pressure to back away, to be close but not too close to Jesus, is always .there in one form or another. While it helps to steep ourselves in the gospel and invite the influence of those who clearly live for God alone in Christ, we must also try to live simply and so nourish detachment from everything but God's will. The less clutter around us, the freer are we to give ourselves to what w~ are asked. Often, tO want something is to get it. We get into a car, pick up a phone, write a check, press a key, or ask for it--and presently we have it. This is not true for vast tracts of the world, but it is true for much of it; and, given the chance, most people on every con- Review for Religious tinent seem to want to live like that. Religious professedly "poor in fact and spirit" share that same humanity. Because of this human tendency to acquire, they need constant vigilance, personal disci-pline, and continually renewed motivation in order to accompany Jesus on his gospel journey. Our circumstances need to reflect the authentic gospel challenge. Otherwise, despite our intent the cri-teria offered by the Lukan Jerusalem journey will seem an impos-sible ideal--the sort of ideal someone had in mind when saying archly that, with the Ten Commandments, "as in any examina-tion, only five need be attempted." Without the insight of faith, our postmodern environmental circumstances are likely to keep sug-gesting a "more reasonable" way of life, and we are likely to accept it unthinkingly. The chapel of a religious community, open on Sunday for Mass to a hundred or so people, presented a stark picture during Lent. The crucifix and statues were covered. A large swathe of purple material across the front of the altar ended in a symbolically overturned chalice. The lecterns from where Scripture was read and the gospel preached were engulfed in purple. The branches of a leafless tree reached up and out from its purpled-wrapped trunk. To the visitor it said that for this community Lent really meant something. Something has happened here. For the people wor-shiping here on Sunday, if the words spoken were at one with the setting, they could scarcely be less than disturbing. If, however, the religious community's life were at one with those words and those symbols, people attending would receive sufficient support and encouragement. The chapel inside the house, however, where the community prayed and worshiped with a few people during the week, was rather differe.nt. There was no suggestion of purple, aridity, or stark challenge in the folksy, chatty chapel. It was, in a word, domestic. There was no provision, no place, for a moment of pri-vacy in which individuals might face themselves before God; the chairs around the orange carpet formed a square with the altar, and people spoke and laughed easily across the space. A visitor asked how the community could issue so sharp a statement to people coming on Sunday from the pressures of their postmodern environment, and yet offer so little challenge in the chapel where they themselves were at home. They may have spent the night in prayer, dined on bread and water, and been selfless in serving the poor, but the climate they chose for themselves for November-December 2001 Macdonald * Where Your Heart Is addressed and told to consider whether we can leave everything, even life itself, to accompany Jesus. worship and prayer did not suggest that. The Sunday chapel may have been a liturgical or catechetical visual-aid for others; but, if they were to accompany their Lord to Jerusalem's summit, much more than a public gesture was necessary. It might be a good idea to have a framed copy of Charles de Foucauld's "dedication" in both chapels, but, for us and others to glimpse the simplicity of what he saw, we need to recognize that environment and appro-priate symbols matter, that we must make special efforts to free ourselves from many assumptions of contemporary society. Unless we do this, an easy acceptance of what we see around us in matters of lifestyle, furnishings, and aspirations will inevitably lead us into a certain secularity. Earlier history and the evidence of the last thirty years surely make that point incontrovertible. There can be no objective and globally acceptable standard here, but, for people who think of accepting the blunt challenge of the Jerusalem journey, surroundings do matter. One by one we are addressed and told to consider whether we can leave every-thing, even life itself, to accompany OFle by oFle we are Jesus. As ever, the situation is made plain in the Lukan approach: "Go on your way. I am sending you out like lambs into the midst of wolves. Carry no. purse, no bag, no sandals, and greet no one on the road. What-ever house you enter, first say, 'Peace to this house'" (10:3-5). Our sole security lies in being with Jesus, but, for such security to be ours, we must leave much else on which people around us reasonably rely. To behave differently we must see other than they do. In our dedication to the gospel, we scarcely have time for normal civilities, and yet we frequently offer the gift of peace and expect our words to have effect. We must accompany our risen Lord closely to function like that. Even if we sometimes see bringing some peace as a short-term mission, the effort may still be a weighty burden, and one that is clearly related to the rest of the Jerusalem journey. If our following of Jesus occurs in "the real world" (where being a lamb among wolves argues no future and scarcely any pre-sent), temptations to go through a gap in the hedge for a respite from the effort of keeping close to Jesus will inevitably occur. Lukan pastoral care admits as much: "Whoever denies me before others will be denied before the angels of God" (12:8-9). On arriv-ing in Jerusalem, the disciples collapsed under the pressure and did deny Jesus. In a postmodern world, we too are frail human beings, and the pressure to distance ourselves from him, not least by a more "reasonable" lifestyle, will always be there. To prevent this, we need to know where our real wealth is. "Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also" (12:34). Jesus' answer to the rich young man's question, "What shall I do to inherit eternal life?" left him sad, "for he had great possessions" (18:18, 22) and his heart was not as close to Jesus as he had sup-posed. "Jesus looking at him said, 'How hard it is for those who have riches to enter the kingdom of God. For it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle" (18:24-25). Money and the power it brings opens most doors here on earth, but Jesus makes it unmistakably plain that it cannot buy anyone's way into his company. But for the grace of God, it would perhaps be an insuperable obstacle. Delight in the Word Inviting and challenging, Jesus looks at us too. He wants our company so much that he has risen from a grave to enable us to enter into his kingdom. There is a personal.relationship here. Intimacy with God and living at one with God's will, these are what living life to the full means. Here is human purpose, and our purpose. "Jesus rejoiced in the Holy Spirit and said, 'I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and intelligent and have revealed them to infants . All things have been handed over to me by my .Father" (10:21-22). These words are spoken after the disciples' excited return from venturing out among the people supported only by trust in Jesus' word. Now they know from experience something of the possibilities and power of his message. Many others who seem better placed than they to understand do not know what the disciples know. Jesus is ecstatic. "Thrilled with joy in the Holy Spirit," he looks in wonder at these "infants" who were coming to know him and his Father. On our journey you and I ake in the company of our risen Lord; we. are not isolated strangers at a bus stop waiting for something to turn up. We should be full of wonder at who we are November-December 2001 Macdonald ¯ Where Your Heart Is and what we have in Christ, and never take our identity primarily from people lacking the insight of faith. In Christ, who has "given you authority., over all the power of the enemy, and nothing will hurt you" (10:19), Satanic power can be successfully challenged. "Then, turning to the disciples, Jesus said to them privately, 'Blessed are the eyes that see what you see! . . . many prophets and kings desired to see what you see, and did not see it, and to hear what you hear, and did not hear it'" (10:2,3-24). Like John the Baptist, these people, for all their insight, could only prepare for or point to what the disciples were enjoying from within the company of Jesus. To those outside that company, his parables and teaching might be helpful stories to take or leave; but, for the "infants" around Jesus; these words reached both mind and heart and helped form their consciences as guides to life. There is much more for us to see if we "infants" develop genuine receptivity to and then realization of the gift of God in the risen Christ. Insofar as the wonder of that gift is ours, we will have the "stick-to-itive-ness," courage, and conviction to share .it with others on the jour-ney. We know that We are treasured by our risen Lord, and so we come to treasure him. He is where our heart is! For perhaps significant numbers of religious and would-be religious, it is asking too much to make more that a notional con-nection between words then and work now. The biblical word is respected, but even in generally literate societies words do not always communicate in depth, often because there are just too many of them to hold our attention. Yet, to this day in the his-tory of the church and consecrated life, Scripture has had an intrin-sic power which people have felt and which has energized for God some of the greatest evangelical witnesses. A contemporary vade mecum of consecrated life--P~'ta conse-crata-- points to Scripture as "the first source of all Christian spir-ituality." There is undoubtedly a wider awareness of this in recent .decades, but we may have some way to go before all of us have the view that "the primacy of holiness and prayer is inconceivable without a renewed listening to the word of God, . . . a life-giving encounter., which draws from the biblical text the living word which questions, directs, and shapes our lives" (§39). Only some-one like the Holy Father, speaking from experience of that back-ground and also very aware of the contemporary challenge to the gospel, could be convinced that, while "we do not know what the new millennium has in store for us,., we are certain that it is safe Revie't.v for Religious in the hands of Christ." (§35). The Lukan Jerusalem journey, approached from within that mindset, would produce a like conviction. Pope John Paul saw the pilgrims in Rome for Jubilee 2000 as representative of so many others, each individual reflecting "the story of someone whom Christ had met, and who in dialogue with him was setting out again on a journey of hope" (§8). As an older brother, perhaps, on the journey, he has learned from experience that, "if Christ is presented to young people as he really is, they experience him as an answer that is convincing and they can accept his message, even when it is demanding and bears the mark of the cross" (§9). This is why he does not hesitate to challenge and call on them "to make a radical choice of faith and life., a stupen-dous task; to become 'morning watchmen' (Is 21:11-12) at the dawn of the new millennium" (§9). Consecrated people, glimpsing Christ "as he really is" from the Gospel pages, might feel called to respond to that same challenge as they journey together, eager to share their delight in their risen Lord. "Remaining firmly anchored in Scripture, we open ourselves to the action of the Spirit" (§17), and who can say where that may lead us? Notes t John Henry Newman, Apologia pro Vita Sua (Longmans Green, 1890), p. 241. 2 Newman, Apologia, p. 242. 3 John Paul II, Apostolic Letter, Novo Millennio Ineunte, Rome, 6 January 2001. Numbers here and subsequently refer to paragraphs. 4 Walter J. Ciszek sJ, He Leadeth Me, repays rereading for an appre-ciation of faith today. through/be ~do~n! ~nd Cbri~tmo~ t~ b/~6~ing~ of ~oat'~ ~nt~dng into $ia creation in November-December 2001 church and MARIE BRINKMAN Criteria for Change: Women's Ministering to the Body of Christ ministry To search in the past for signs of a viable future for reli-gious women's communities is to reverse the usual order of things, but that is what I intend. I offer a rationale for searching there. I seek, however, not criteria for esti-mating outcomes of change, but rather the foundation made up of sisters' lives which itself takes the measure of other criteria and thus provides the framework for wise discernment. The dawn of a new millennium suggests radical change, much of it underway, yet brings from some quarters hints of probable demise. We know that, for the authors of the many articles and books on the present situation of religious men and women, the good of God's people is the primary concern. And we well know that, if religious communities are to survive, they will do so in response to that people's need and in fidelity to the gospel, particularly its radical counsels. These are any century's religious foundations and the basis for all reform and renewal. But, in the life of religious communities of women, what in particular urges their Marie Brinkman SCL presented this paper at the History of Women Religious Conference at Marquette University in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, in June 2001. She is a professor at Saint Mary College; 4100 South Fourth Street; Leavenworth, Kansas 6604-8. Review for Religious continuance? What characteristics should serve as norms for appropriate change, in the face of diminishing numbers, advancing median ages, and increasing opportunities for minis-tering to God's people in lay and secular life? In her hopeful assessment of a third-millennial future for women religious, Jo Ann Kay McNamara observes that sisters from the "young" African and Asian churches "are already in the process of changing their worlds as their foremothers in the West did for so many centuries." And she foresees "a larger global sisterhood" in which religious women of the West will revise their institutions and women of all cultures will devise new forms of rule, commu-nity, and ministry (pp. 643-644). Ways of envisioning and shaping such inevitabilities are what we must seek. In this regard Joel Giallanza csc asserts that "the quality and integrity of religious life as a sign of unity in the church for the future is direcdy related to the quality and integrity which religious life embodies today" (pp. 468-469). That quality and integrity must inform any criteria for discerning constructive change in community and ministry. When communities, particularly apostolic ones, revisit their charism (as Vatican documents on religious life have urged) and when they engage laypersons as associates (communal or profes-sional) in the realization of that charism, even in these charted waters they run risks described by Francis W. Danella OSFS. While believing that "efforts to recapture the spirit of the foundation have been the singularly most hopeful development in religious life since the council" (p. 266), Danella cites a major risk, that of failure to integrate individual needs and community priorities, personal growth and the common good. We might well add that it is a risk rooted in human nature that has become greater in the last three decades. It takes subtle forms that only habitual and rigorous spiritual discernment at every level of decision making and leadership can recognize. Mary Anne Foley CND, in her careful critique of two widely read works of the past decade, Ann Carey's Sisters in Crisis and Quifionez and Turner's Transformation of ,4merican Catholic Sisters, asks for continuing dialogue between the polarized constituencies studied by these authors (pp. 342-357). She acknowledges serious inadequacies attending the documentation of their views, but is convinced that nonetheless the Spirit speaks to us through one another, within our diverse limitations. Her most significant obser- November-December 2001 Brinkman ¯ Criteria for Chan~e The fundamental question before us, I think, is whether personal relationship to God, in its rhythm of continuing call and free response, has taken directions in the lives of religious women so concrete as to be guidelines for the future. vation, I think, follows a statement that Christian men and women have for centuries linked their lives to God by means of vows. She adds: "They have done this not., primarily as a witness to oth-ers, but because God has somehow reached into their lives, and so, in being true to themselves, they structure their lives around their rela-tionship to God" (my emphasis; pp. 351,356). She credits Edward Vacek sJ for the latter concept. Here we draw close to the source of continuity over two thousand years of religious commu-nity life, regardless of what reforms or renewals have attended it. The same source or cause will guarantee its contin-uance throughout another millennium. Michael Himes would call the source a radical poverty, an ultimate dependency that he says is "the key value in the vows" (p. 21). Joan Chittister would call it the ultimate commitment and radical atten-tiveness to the presence of God in every aspect of a vowed life. It is my contention, hardly'unique, that this centrality of God, this fact of personal relationship to God, realized and grasped as the origin and end of all resolve and purpose, and of all consequent rela-tionship and mission, is the efficacious cause of continuing life in religious com-munity. All change and adaptation, all forms of communal living and ministry that may develop, will be tested and must be evaluated by this criterion. But spiritual reality must take sensible form if it is to become a human measure of worth. As adaptations and innovations multiply, so do reports and projections. More significant are potentially prophetic voices that try to discern the Spirit in radical change and the reactions it pro-vokes. Few--scholars and prophets included--would presume to forecast the future with confidence. Some contemplate the end of our life as we have known it, or its evolution into confederations, syneisactic (Greek syneisdgein, to. bring in together) communities of mixed genders and terms of commitment, new monastic/apos- Review for Religious tolic arrangements, or vowed ministry within a church defined in nonhierarchical terms. The fundamental question before us, I think, is whether per-sonal relationship to God, in its rhythm of continuing call and free response, has taken directions in the lives of religious women so concrete as to be guidelines for the future--directions, in fact, so clear as to suggest qualities essential to the continuance and integrity of these women's communities. The limitation of aca-d

Issue 19.3 of the Review for Religious, 1960. ; Councils in Lay Institutes Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. THE LAW of the code and especially that of the constitutions confers an important role on the councils in religious institutes. Almost all constitutions describe thoroughly the duties of tho general council but are unsatisfactory in their treatment ~f the provincial and local councils. This article is an effort to explain simultaneously"th~ principles that govern all councils in lay in-stitutes. The more common name for this office in such institutes is councilor; but many others are found, e.g., assistants, discreets, and consultors. 1. Necessity of councilors (c. 516, § 1). This canon obliges-all superiors general, presidents of federations and confederations, provincial and local superiors at least of formal houses to have councilors. A formal house in a lay institute is one in which at least six professed religious reside (c. 488, 5°). The canon recom-mends that superiors also of smaller houses have councilors. From analogy of law and the enactment of the particular constitutions, superiors of vice-provinces, quasi-provinces, regions, vicariates, missions, and districts should also have councilors.~ The canon does not specify the number of the councilors. From the practice of the Holy See in approving constitutions, there are four general councilors, although a few lay congregations have a greater numberi four or two provincial councilors; two councilors in a formal house, but a few congregations have a larger number; and more frequently one councilor in a smaller house. Monasteries of nuns ordinarily have four councilors. Federations and confederations of nuns have four or six councilors, and regions within such a confederation have two. ~ 2. Manner of designation and requisite qualities of councilors. The general councilors of a congregation and the councilors of a con-federation, federation, region, or monastery of nuns are elected in the respective chapters. The provincial councilors of a congregation are appointed by the superior general with the consent of his council, but in a small number of congregations they are elected in the provincial chapter. Local councilors are appointed by the ILarraona, Commentarium Pro Religiosis, 9 (1928), 418. 129 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious superior general or, if the institute is divided into provinces, ordin-arily by the provincial, with the consent of the respective council. The constitutions sometimes enact that this provincial appoint-ment is to be confirmed by the superior general with the delibera-tive vote of his council. The quality universally demanded by constitutions for all ex-cept local councilors is that they be professed of perpetual vows. The age usually required for general councilors of a congregation and those of a confederation, federation, or region of nuns is thirty-five complete years; thirty years is the more frequent norm in monasteries of nuns; and thirty or thirty-five years are often prescribed for provincial councilors. The constitutions rarely enact a determined age for local councilors, and very many do not affirm that perpetual vows are necessary. A few make it clear that perpetual profession is not an absolute requisite by stating that the local councilors are, if possible, to be professed of perpetual vows or that such vows are required at least for the first local councilor. It is incongruous that a religious still in the state of probation and formation should be the councilor of a house. 3. Residence. According to the practice of the Holy See in approving constitutions, all the general councilors should reside with the superior general; but two of them, with the exception of the as-sistant general, may live elsewhere for a just reason, e. g., because of their other work. These must be stationed in houses from which they can .be readily summoned and can attend the meetings. The evident purpose of the practice is that the superior general may have no difficulty in consulting his councilors. Many constitutions contain no prescriptions on the residence of the provincial counci- .lots. At least the assistant provincial and the provincial secretary should reside with the provincial. Some constitutions have the same practice for a provincial council of four members as that described above for the general council. If there are only two provincial councilors, the constitutions frequently state that both or at least one of the councilors must reside with the provincial. The councilors of a confederation, federation, or region of nuns reside in their respective monasteries. 4. Incompatible duties. The general principle of the practice of the Holy See forbids a general councilor to be assigned any employment that would prevent the proper fulfillment of the duties of a coun-cilor. The present practice forbids in particular merely that the first general counc.il0r be bursar or secretary general. The former practice forbade any general councilor to be bursar general, and 130 May, 1960 COUNCILS IN LAY INSTITUTES the Normae of 1901 extended the prohibition to the master of novices (nn. 285, 300). Some constitut!ops~ ~ave the same pro-hibition with regard to the offices of provincial or local superior, any bursar, local councilor, and master of junior professed. A provincial will rarely in fact be a general councilor; but, outside of the case of the assistant general, it is difficult to see how the offices listed above are necessarily incompatible with that of general councilor. A general councilor is very frequently the local superior of the generalate. The judgment of the incompatibility is to be made on facts, i. e., the amount of work in each of the offices and the ease or difficulty with which the other office would permit the religions to be summoned and to attend the ordinary and extraordinary sessions of the general council. Few constitutions mention incompatible duties with regard to the provincial coun- .cilors, but some forbid the uniting of this office with that of pro-vincial bursar or master of novices. 5. Nature of a council (c. 516, § 1). In the constitutions of pontifical lay congregations, the general council is nsually stated to consist of the superior general and the four general councilors. Other parts of the same constitutions repeat frequently that particular matters requirethe consent or advice of the general council. All such expressions are ambiguons. The superior alone governs the con-gregation, province, or house; the councilors as such have no authority. Canon 516, § 1, makes it clear that a councilor is only an adviser of a superior, not an associate in authority. The superior votes in a council but he is not a member of the council; he is the superior, or sole possessor of authority, who has councilors or advisers. In a general chapter the authority is that of the collective body; the chapter itself and as such possesses the authority. All the members of this chapter are on the same level; all are co-possessors of the same authority and co-authors of the enactments of the chapter. Not the presiding superior general, but the general chapter places an act. A council is not a governing body; it possesses no collective authority. The councilors are not co-authors of an act. It is not the council but the superior who places an act, with the consent or advice of his council. It is possible for a particular canon or law of the constitutions to prescribe that the council is to act in the same manner as the general chapter. This mnst be certainly proved, since the contrary is the general principle of canon law. The only canon of this type that can affect lay religions is canon 650, which treats of the dismis-sal of a male religions of perpetual vows. If the majority of the 131 JOSEPH F. CrALLEN Review for Religious council vote for dismissal, it is probable that the superior general must issue the decree of dismissal in a pontifical congregation or forward the matter to the local ordinary in the case of a diocesan congregation. Therefore, the act in this case would be of the general council, not of the superior general. However, this sense is only probable; and it is at least equally probable that the wording of the canon is merely another way of expressing the deliberative vote of the council. Consequently, since it is not certain that canon 650 is an exception, this case also would in fact be handled in the same way as that described above (cf. also n. 16). These same principles apply not only to the councils but also to chapters of monasteries of nuns in the cases for which law demands that the superioress secure the consent or advice of the chapter (cc. 534, § 1; 543; 575, § 2; 646, § 2).2 6. Duties of councilors (c. 516, § 1). The primary duty of the councilors is to cast a deliberative or consultive vote when these are demanded by canon law or the constitutions. When asked to do so by the superior, they are to express their opinions with all freedom, courage, respect, sincerity, and truth (c. 105, 3°). They are likewise to bring to the attention of the superior whatever they sincerely consider to be to the good or detriment of the institute, province, or house. The superior, not the councilors, decides the matters that are to be treated in the council, as is clear from the principle stated in number 5. Councils were introduced to prevent what could degenerate into arbitrary government on the part of the superior. An equally evident purpose was to satisfy the need that all, and perhaps especially those in authority, have of securing advice and obtaining information. In an age that emphasizes ren-ovation and adaptation, the councilors should also be the principal source of progressive ideas to the superior. 7. Obligation of secrecy. According to the practice of the Holy See, an article of the constitutions states that the general councilors must observe secrecy concerning all matters confided to them as councilors in or outside the sessions.3 Another article is usually included that extends this same obligation to all others who have attended any session of the general council. A secret is the know-ledge of something that at least ordinarily should not be revealed. ~Cf. Vromant, D~ Bonis Ecclesiae Temporalibus, n. 39; Vermeersch, Per-iodica, 15 (1927), (61)-(63); Goyeneche, Quaestiones Canonicae, I, 183-89; Michiels, Principia Generalia de Personis in Ecclesia, 494-95; Larraona, Commentariurn Pro Religiosis, 6 (1925), 429-30; Bender, Norrnae Generales de Personis, nn. 376-77,1; Jone, Comrnentarium in Codicem Juris Canonici, I, 121. ~Normae of 1901, n. 280. 132 May, 1960 COUNCIL~ IN LAY INSTITUTES A natural secret arises from the very matter of such knowledge, since its revelation would cause injury or at least sorrow and displeasure to another. A promised secret has its source in a prom-ise, made after the matter was known, not to reveal the matter, whether or not this matter of itself demands secrecy. The confided or entrusted .secret arises from an agreement, given and accepted before any disclosure, that the matter will not be revealed. The agreement may be explicit or implicit. The latter is true of all who possess a confidential office, e. g., doctors, lawyers, priests consulted outside of confession on things appertaining to their ministry, religious superiors, novice masters, councilors, etc. There are degrees in the confided secret. The lowest is the revelation made to a private individual from mere friendship. The next is the revelation to a private individual to secure counsel. The third and highest is the official secret, i. e., a revelation made to a person possessing a confidential office, such as those listed above, and made to him because of this office or learned in the practice of the office. Matters confided to all councilors thus constitute official secrets and are often also natural secrets. Even the official secret may be revealed to prevent a serious injury to the institute, province, or house, or to any individual. The councilors may also reveal such matters to a prudent and learned or experienced person for the purpose of consultation, e. g., to a confessor, a priest skilled in a subject such as canon law or moral theology, or to another prudent and experienced religious. In seeking counsel, the identity of the person concerned is always to be concealed as far as possible. Even if the matter becomes public, the councilors may not reveal what occurred in the council with regard to it, e. g., the opinions or votes given by individual councilors. They are to acquiesce, at least externally, in the judgment of the majority and in the action taken by the superior. This is necessary for the efficient functioning of the council and for effective and peaceful govern-ment. They are not to imply or hint to others that they disagreed with a decision made in council. This is a shirking of the responsi-bilities of an office. The article inserted in constitutions by the Holy See adds that a general councilor who violates this obligation of secrecy is to be seriously admonished by the superior general. If he does this repeatedly, he is to be given a severe admonition and a penance. A violation of secrecy is not in itself a sufficient reason for de-position from office; but, if the violations are very serious, flagrant, a source of lack of confidence, discord, or scandal in the corn- 133 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious munity, the councilor may be deposed from his office.4 These principles apply to all other councilors. Canon 105, 2°, empowers the superior, if he believes this prudent and demanded by the sbriousness of the matter, to oblige the councilors to take an oath to preserve secrecy on a particular matter. ~. Frequency of sessions. The almost universal practice of the Sacred Congregation in approving constitutions is that an or.dinary session of the general council is to be held every month. The article adds that more frequent sessions are to be convoked when necessary. A very small number of constitutions prescribe less frequent meetings, e. g., every two or three months. It is very difficult to reconcile such infrequent sessions with the obligation of having all the councilors reside in the motherhouse and with the insistence that they be free of all duties incompatible with the office of general councilor. An ordinary session every month is decidedly the pref-erable norm. An extraordinary session should be called by the superior general for any matter of greater moment. He should consult his councilors frequently, since the practice of the Sacred Congregation places marked emphasis on the office of councilor. These principles are true of all other councils. A monthly ordinary session is also the usual norm for the councils of provinces, houses, and monasteries of nuns. 9. Convocation of the council (c. 105, 2°). When either the delibera-tive or consultive vote is required by canon law or the constitutions, canon 105, 2°, commands the superior to convoke ~11 the councilors who can be present.5 He must therefore, sufficiently ahead of time, inform all the councilors of the place, day, and hour of the session. A convocation is not obligatory when the constitutions or customs determine the place, day, and hour of the meetings. Obviously all other sessions that the superior institutes on his own authority must also be convoked. The secretary may and often in fact does convoke the council at the order of the superior. The councilors should at the same time be given a list of the important matters to be discussed, so that they may properly prepare for the meeting. Unprepared sessions are usually both unsatisfactory and unduly prolonged. 10. Number of councilors required. (a) By the code (c. 163). By the code, a superior has the right to act when at least one councilor is present after all have been properly convoked (c. 163). The 4Cf. Vermeersch, De Religiosis, II, n. 121; Battandier, Guide Canonique, n. 466; Bastien, Directoire Canonique, n. 324. sCf. Vromant, op. cir., n. 40; Jone, op. cir., 120; Michiels, op. cir., 530. 134 May, 1960 COUNCIL~ IN LAY INSTITUTES superior may not act when he alone is present, since there would then be no consent or advice of the council. Therefore, if the constitutions do not demand the presence of a definite number for a session of the council, the superior may act validly and licitly when only he and another councilor are present, The same is true when the president of a session is the assistant or vicar in virtue of a provision of the co~.~titutions or delegation from the superior. It is clear that a session should ordinarily be postponed when only one of four councilors is present. According to the law of the code, the superior has no obligation to substitute other religious for absent councilors. It is not certain: that he may do so licitly or even validly, since the rights of the council devolve after convocation on those~ who are present and these are to be considered juridically as a full council.~ However, because the code does not expressly nor certainly forbid substitu-tion, it is probable that the superior may summon such substitutes. 7 He may use an analogous norm from the code (c. 655, § 1) and select the substitutes with the consent of his council; or he may follow one of the norms of substitution admitted in the practice of the Holy See, explained in (c) below, e. g., by taking the local superior as the first substitute and then, with the consent of his council, selecting the other substitutes from the professed of perpetual vows of the house in which the session is held. (b) By the general law of constitutions. The constitutions of lay congregations very frequently demand the presence of the superior general and two councilors for any session of the general council, and a few require a unanimous vote when only this number is present. Other specifications are also found, e. g., two-thirds of the general council, and three general councilors. The Normae of 1901 (n. 273) seem to suppose that the superior general and at least two councilors are present at any session. These constitutions do not demand that the absent councilors be replaced by substi-tutes, i. e., outside of the matters listed in the following paragraph; and substitution is accordingly regulated by the norms given above. It is not the practice to summon substitutes in such cases. (c) By the law of the constitutions [or appointments and other de-termined matters. Most constitutions of lay congregations, following the Norrnae of 1901 (n. 273), require a full general council for ap- ~Cf. Can. 163; 165; Goyeneche, De Religiosis, 47-48; Quaestiones Can-onicae, I, 26-27; Bastien, op. cir., n. 327; Schaefer, De tteligiosis, n. 586; Pejska, Ius Canonicum Religiosorum, 233. 7Cf. Coronata, Institutiones Iuris Canonici, I, 658, note 3. 135 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious pointments to offices. A small number extend this to other matters, e. g., admission to the noviceship and first and fihal profession, dismissal of professed religious, matters that require recourse to the Holy See or the local ordinary, and even for all matters that demand a deliberative vote. Full membership is required in such constitu-tions for the liceity, not for the validity, of the superior's action. If all the members of the council are not present, the ap-pointment, if possible, should be postponed. If it cannot be deferred, the substitutes prescribed by the constitutions are to be summoned. The most common norm of substitution is that the local superior is to be called and, if a second substitute is necessary, the superior general, with the consent of the councilors present, is to choose him from the professed of perpetual vows of the house where the session is being held. If the local superior is already a general councilor or cannot attend, a religious of perpetual vows is to be chosen in this same way as first substitute. Many other norms of substitution have been admitted by the Holy See. For example, the second sub-stitute need not be of the house where the session is held; the first substitute is the secretary general, or the secretary or bursar general; the superior general, with the consent of the councilors present, chooses as substitutes religious professed for at least ten years; one or two professed of perpetual vows; and, finally, a pro-fessed of perpetual vows, preferably the bursar general. It is pos-sible to find constitutions that demand a full council for determined matters but do not provide any norm of substitution. In such cases the superior is to summon substitutes according to one of the norms given above (c. 20). Constitutions rarely mention the necessity of the presence of a minimum number of provincial councilors, of a full council for determined matters, or give norms of substitution for this council. Such provisions, when found, follow those described above for the general council. (d) Non-councilors" attending sessions. The constitutions usually state, at least of the superior general, that he may summon religious who are not councilors to sessions of the council to give information or advice but that he is forbidden to grant a vote to anyone who is not a councilor. Any superior has this same right. Those most likely to be called are the bursars, masters of novices and of junior professed, and supervisors of schools, hospitals, and studies. It is evident that no one has a right to vote in a council or to act as a councilor unless he is such by election, appointment, or by a provision of law. Some constitutions contain the strange provision that persons summoned as above "have only a con- 136 COUNCILS IN LAY INSTITUTES sultive vote." The same is more frequently said of the secretary general, e. g., "If the secretdr~y general'is,not a councilor, he has only a consultive vote." All such persons give information or advice only when requested and merely to help the superior and the councilors to form their opinions, and this may be the sense of the constitutions in question. They do not vote nor act as councilors; this appertains only to the superior and the councilors. Further-more, a secretary of a council is not by that fact a councilor nor should he act as such. He is in the same position as any non-councilor who is summoned to a session. Therefore, he has no right to give an opinion in a council unless this is at least implicitly requested by the superior. 11. Common deliberation (c. 105, 2°). The proper and primary canon on the obligatory consent or advice of a council or chapter is canon 105. The literal translation of this canon is that the coun-cilors or capitulars "are to be legitimately convoked and to manifest their opinions" (c. 105, 2°). The evident translation of the sense of this clause is that "they are to be legitimately convoked and to manifest their opinions in a common deliberation." The canon thus commands absolutely that the councilors or capitulars are to express their opinion in a common deliberation. It is therefore difficult to understand the reason for the statements of some authors that canon 105 does not forbid a councilor to vote through a proxy or by letter or that these are forbidden only for a canonical election (c. 163). From the wording of canon 105, 2°, it is illicit, but not certainly invalid, for a superior to secure an obligatory consent or advice outside of a common deliberation, e. g., through a proxy, by letter, or by interrogating the councilors or capitulars individually and separately and securing in this way their oral consent or advice. 8 The obligation of a common deliberation ceases and the consent or advice may be requested separately when the matter is urgent and a common deliberation is impossible or at-tainable only with unusual difficulty. It is possible for an institute to have a privilege from the Holy See permitting an obligatory vote to be asked separately, 8Vromant, op. cit., n. 40; Vermeersch-Creusen, Epitome Iuris Canonici, I, n. 229; Wernz-Vidal, Ius Canonicum, II, De Personis, n. 33; III, De Religiosis, n. 155; Coronata, op. cir., n. 154; Ojetti, Comfnenta}'ium in Codicem Iuris Canonici, II, 182-83; Fanfani, De Religiosis, n. 66; De Carlo, Jus Religiosorum, 82; Goyeneche, Quaestiones Canonicae, I, 180-82; Cappello, Summa Iuris Canonici, I, n. 201,'4; Pejska, op. cir., 233; Bender, op. cir., n. 417; Bergh, Revue des Cdmmunautds Religieuses, 20 (1948), 78; Chelodi-Ciprotti, Ius Canonicum de Personis, n. 102; Brys, Juris Canonici Compendium, I, n. 296, 2; Sipos, Enchiridion Iuris Canonici, 82. 137 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious e. g., by letter. Several authors maintain that the particular law or custom of an institute may permit separate voting.9 The opinion of these authors may be followed, even though it is not easy to perceive the foundation for the opinion. Canon 105, 2°, does not contain a clause permitting the continuance of contrary laws or customs, and it is difficult to see how a contrary immemorial custom or one of a century's duration could not-be prudently removed in this matter (cc. 5-6). The attempt to prove the same doctrine by recurring to canon 101, § 1, 1°, is equally obscure. It is true that this canon explicitly permits particular law to prevail over the common law, but it is a canon that only secondarily and analogously applies to an obligatory consent or advice of a council or chapter. The primary and proper canon is canon 105, 2°, which demands a common deliberation absolutely. The value of the com-mon deliberation is that the reasons and facts adduced by some will clarify the issue in the minds of all. A common deliberation also lessens the difficulty in proposing an opinion Contrary to that of the superior. The superior proposes the matters for discussion. He should give an objective description and explanation of each case, without revealing his own opinion. He then asks the opinions of each of the councilors. It is sometimes enjoined by the constitutions and is often customary for the last in precedence to speak first. The superior is to strive to secure a sincere and complete expression of opinion from all the councilors. Canon 105, 3°, obliges the councilors to express their opinions respectfully, sincerely, and truthfully. The superior should take care lest any more aggressive and vocal members dominate the council. These are not necessarily the most able or prudent. The councilors are to consider all matters objectively; they are not to be motivated by partisanship, faction-alism, anger, pride, stubbornness, or blind adherence to their own opinions. The councilors have full liberty to express their opinions. Their norm is the objective merits or demerits of the question, not what the superior wants. To assure this liberty, it is better for the superior to give his opinion last. The superior must be careful lest his attitude intimidate or discourage the councilors from a sincere expression of opinion. He may never consider the council as a mere "rubber stamp" for his own ideas. ~Maroto, Institutiones Iuris Canonici, I, 556, note 1; Michiels, op. cir., 530; Jone, op. cir., 120; Schaefer, op. cir., n. 582; Cocchi, Commentarium in Codicern Juris Canonici, II, 44; Geser, Canon Law Governing Communities of Sisters, n. 395. 138 ~VIay, 1960 COUNCILS IN LAY INSTITUTES The amount of time given to each matter will evidently vary with its importance and the :ease or difficulty in reaching a decision. The superior determines the duration and the number of times each councilor is to speak. Some constitutions state that an interval is to be allowed, at least on the petition of the majority of~the council, between the session in which a matter is proposed and that in which it is to be decided, unless the matter is urgent. This will o~dinarily occur only in important matters, but it is a norm that prudence itself will frequently demand or counsel. Some constitutions specify the interval as of one day or more, three or more; and three or eight days. 12. Manner of voting. Canon 105 does not impose any determined manner of voting, i. e~, orally, in writing, publicly, or secretly. The code requires a secret deliberative vote for alienations and the contracting of debts and obligations (c. 534, § 1) and for the dismissal of professed of temporary vows in pontifical congregations of men or women (c. 647, § 1). Very few constitutions of lay institutes contain any provision on the manner of voting, even though the Normae of 1901 stated that the deliberative vote was to be secret (n. 273). The varying provisions on the necessity of a secret vote in constitutions are: for all matters; whenever the deliberative vote is required; only for appointments; councilors may request it for an important matter; and when demanded by canon law, the constitutions, or requested by two councilors. The preferable norm is a secret vote whenever the deliberative vote is required. A secret vote is ordinarily taken by means of black and white beads or beans or in some similar manner. 13. Necessity of voting. Whenever the deliberative vote is required, the councilors are actually to vote; and the result of the voting is to be announced to the council. Otherwise the superior could not be certain that he had the consent of his council. The superior also votes. Actual voting may be done but is not necessary when only the advice or consultive vote is demanded. The superior is not obliged to follow even a unanimous consultive vote and he can reach his decision merely from the opinions proposed by the councilorS.1° 14. Number of votes required (c. 101, § 1, 1°). Unless the constitu-ti0ns specify a different norm, the votes are computed according to canon 101, § 1, 1°, i. e.~ a matter is settled by an absolute ~°De Carlo, op. cir., 82. On the fact that the superior also votes, cf. Bastien, op. cir., n. 326; Battandier, op. cit., n. 453; Lanslots, Handbook of Canon Law, n. 394. 139 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious majority, which is any number thdt exceeds half the valid votes cast. The constitutions do not contain, either for affairs or ap-pointments, the norm of canon 101, § 1, 1°, that a relative majority suffices on the third balloting. In appointments one person is voted for at a time; and all affairs are so proposed that they can be voted on affirmatively or negatively. Since the superior and the councilors ordinarily constitute an uneven number, a tie is scarcely possible unless one of the members is absent. Canon 101, § 1, 1°, commands a superior to break a tie after the third balloting, and this norm is to be observed when the constitutions are silent on this matter or do not contain a different norm for breaking a tie. In the former practice of the Holy See in approving constitutions, The superior was given the right or was commanded to break a tie after the first balloting. The recent practice gives this right or imposes the obligation only after the third balloting. In breaking a tie, the superior merely declares which side he favors; and he is not obliged to break the tie in favor of the side for which he had already voted. If the constitutions command the superior t~o break a tie after the first or third balloting, he must do so. He is not permitted to put the matter to another vote. The constitutions almost universally demand a full council for appointments and deny the superior the right of breaking a tie in this matter. In this case, a tie proves that the person concerned has not secured the vote of the council. 15. Appointments to office. The council should have a list of those qualified for office. This list is to be renewed at fixed intervals, e. g., every two or three years. Such a method will expedite the selection of superiors and officials and will also help to prevent the constant appointment of the same religions as superiors. In making a par-ticular appointment, the superior proposes the names for discussion. He decides when the discussion is sufficient and then proposes the names individually for voting. 16. Deliberative and consult~ve vote (c. 105, 1°). (a) Deliberative vote. There is no ambiguity in the expression of this vote. It is required whenever the code or the constitutions demand the consent, de-cisive or deliberative vote of the council. The necessity of the vote is also perfectly clear from canon 105, 1°, i. e., a superior acts invalidly when he acts without or contrary to the majority vote in any matter for which the deliberative vote is required. The 140 May, 1960 COUNCILS IN ~.~AY INSTITUTES consent of the council is a necessary positive element for the validity of the act of the superior.~1 Two important distinctions are to be kept in mind. Let us take as an example the erection of a new house, for which the con-stitutions require the deliberative vote of the general council. The superior general is not obliged to propose or to admit the proposal of this matter, since it appertains to the superior to determine whether a particular matter is to be submitted to the council. If he does propose it, the superior general must have the consent of his council validly to erect the house. If he secures this consent, he may erect the house; but he is not obliged to do so. He may abstain from such an action. The law commands him to have the consent of his council to erect the house; it does not oblige him to act according to the consent of the council.12 The second distinction is that canon 105, 1°, commands consent for the validity of an action of a superior when the consent is that of an inferior or inferiors, not when the law commands the consent of a higher authority, e. g., of a higher superior, the local ordinary, or the Holy See. The consent of a higher authority is required for validity only when this is expressly stated in the law in question; otherwise it is demanded only for the liceity of the superior's act.13 (b) Consultive vote. Consultive vote means that the superior is to listen to the opinions of his council. It is clearly stated in the following expressions: with the consultive vote, or with the advice, of the council; having consulted or heard the council; and according to the counsel or advice of the council. The expressions "with the council" and "with the vote of the council" are ambiguous but are to be interpreted in themselves as demanding only a consultive vote. Since the necessity of a vote is restrictive of the rights of a superior, it is to be interpreted strictly. Therefore, if it is doubtful whether any vote is necessary, no vote is necessary; if it is doubtful whether the vote imposed is deliberative or consultive, it is only consultive (c. 19). In constitutions it is preferable to use uniformly ~Can. 1680, § 1; Vromant, op. cir., n. 45; Michiels, op. cir., 504; Larraona, op. cir., 9 (1928), 422; Naz, Traitd de Droit Canonique, I, n. 367. Cf. De Ritibus Orientalibus de Personis, can. 35, § 1, 1°. 1~Michiels, op. cit., 500; Goyeneche, De Religiosis, 47; Quaestiones Can-onicae, I, 185; Jone, op. cit., 118-19; Larraona, op. cit., 9 (1928), 422, note 686; 424; Bender, op. cir., n. 377, 1; Berutti, De Personis, 58; Abbo-Hannan, The Sacred Canons, I, 153; Beste, Introductio in Codicem, 167. ~aMichiels, op. cir., 495; Berutti, op. cir., 56; Jone, op. cir., 118; Bender, op. cir., n. 377, 2; Regatfllo, Institutiones Iuris Canonici, I, n. 206; Scho.enegger, Periodica, 31 (1942), 120~21. 141 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious the expressions "with the consent" and "with the advice." Both are clear and brief. 1° An act placed without consultation, i. e., the act requires the advice of a council and the superior does not even request this advice. Such an act of a superior is almost certainly invalid from the wording of canon 105, 1°;~4 but it is still solidly probable that the act is merely illicit, not invalid, until the Holy See has author-itatively decreed otherwise. Therefore, a superior acts validly but illicitly if he acts without seeking the advice of his council when this is required by law. The previous consultation is required for validity whenever a determined law demands the consultation under the expressed sanction of invalidity. This is true of some canons, e. g., 2152, § 1; 2153, §.1; 2159; but no such canon is found in the section on religious. The same sanction is possible but in fact is not imposed by the law of the constitutions of lay institutes. 2° No obligation to follow the consultive vote. The code does not oblige a superior to follow even the unanimous consultive vote of his council; but it is recommended and he is counselled ordinarily to do so, i. e., he is to consider seriously and should not depart from a unanimous vote unless he has a reason that prevails over the vote. The superior is the judge of the existence and weight of such a prevailing reason. It is evident that a superior is always to give due consideration to the advice of his council, especially but not only when it is unanimous; otherwise the office of a councilor and the obligation of seeking advice in such matters would be mere formalities. 17. Matters that require the deliberative or consultive vote. The con-stitutions contain an article that lists what are called the more important cases in which the deliberative vote of the general council is necessary. This article is usually unsatisfactory. It does not list all nor the more important or practical cases of such a vote. The constitutions most rarely include a list of the matters that demand the consultive vote. The list below is based on the present practice of the Holy See and is intended to be complete. This prac-tice is not invariable. In different approved constitutions, the same matter sometimes demands a deliberative vote, a consultive vote, or no vote at all. The list therefore will not be in complete agree-ment with all constitutions, even if they have been recently ap-proved by the Holy See. Some of the matters listed below demand 14Cf. De Ritibus Orientalibus de Personis, can. 35, § 1, 2°. 142 May, 1960 COUNCILS IN LAY INSTITUTES the deliberative or consultive vote from. the law of the code, but in most cases the vote is imposed only by the law of the constitu-tions. It would unnecessarily complicate the question to include this distinction in the list. Some also require recourse to the Holy See or the local ordinary, but this is stated in the chapter of the constitutions that treats of the particular maiter. (a) The superior general must have the deliberative vote of his council in the following cases. 1° The condonation in whole or in part of the dowry of those having degrees or compensating abilities, if such a faculty is contained in the constitutions. 2° The investment of the dowry. 3° Dispensation from an entrance impediment of the constitu-tions. 4° Admission to the noviceship and first profession. 5° The establishment or transfer of a novitiate. 6° The dismissal of a professed of temporary or perpetual vows and the sending of a professed religious immediately back to secular life. 7° The convocation of an extraordinary general chapter for reasons other than those specified in the constitutions, the designation of the place of a general chapter, and the forma-tion of groups of smaller houses for the election of delegates to the general chapter. ' 8° The transfer of the permanent residence of the superior general or provincial. 9° To give a formal precept of obedience to an entire house, province, or to the entire congregation. 10° To appoint a. visitor for the entire congregation or an entire province, at least if the visitor is not a member of the general council. 11° The choice of a substitute for an absent general councilor. 120 The acceptance of the resignation, removal, and deposition of a general councilor, secretary general, bursar general, procurator general, and the appointment of a si~ccessor in these cases. 130 The appointment, transfer, and removal of provincial, regional, and local superiors, their councilors, secretaries, and bursars, of a master or assistant master of novices, the master of the junior professed, instructor of tertians, supervisors of schools and studies, principals of schools, and administrators of hospitals. 143 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious 14° Approval of the accounts of the bursar general. 15° The imposition of an extraordinary tax, the alienation of property, contracting of debts and obligations, the making of contracts in the name of the congregation, extraordinary expenses, and other matters of a financial nature according to the norms of canon law and the ordinances of the general chapter. 16° The erection of new provinces; the union, modification, or suppression of existing provinces; the formation, change, and suppression of regions; and the erection and suppression of houses. 17° All matters for which recourse to the Holy See is necessary. 18° All matters remitted to the deliberative vote by the general chapter. (b) The superior general requires the Consultive vote of his council in the following cases. 1° The dismissal of novices. 2° The prolongation of the noviceship and temporary profession. 3° Admission to renewal of temporary profession, to perpetual profession, and exclusion from the renewal of temporary profession or from perpetual profession. 4° The declaration of fact for the automatic dismissal of a pro-fessed religious. 5° Approval of the quinquennial report to the Holy See. 6° Approval of the reports of the superior general to the general chapter. 7° To give a practical interpretation of a doubtful point of the constitutions. 8° All matters remitted to the consultive vote by the general chapter. There is very little in many constitutions on the part of the provincial superior and his council in the acts listed below. There is even more variety in the constitutions that do treat this matter. The admission to the noviceship and professions, the dismissal of novices, the appointment of local superiors, local councilors and bursars, and of the master and assistant master of novices are often made by the provincial with the consent of his council but require the consent or especially the confirmation, ratification, approbation, or approval of the superior general with the deliberative vote of his council. (c) The provincial superior requires no vote of his council for admission to, prolongation of, or dismissal from the postulancy. 144 .May, 1960 COUNCILS IN LAY INSTITUTES (d) The provincial must have the deliberative vote of his council: For the following acts: 1° Investment of the dowry. 2° Admission to the noviceship. 3° To send a professed religious immediately back to secular life. 4° The designation of the place of the provincial chapter and the formation of the groups of smaller houses for the election of delegates to this chapter. 5° To give a formal precept of obedience to an entire house. 6° To appoint a visitor for the entire province, at least if the visitor is not a provincial councilor. 7° The appointment of local councilors and bursars, principals of schools, and administrators of hospitals. 8° Approval of the accounts of the provincial bursar. 9° The alienation of property, contracting of debts and obliga-tions, the making of contracts in the name of the province, extraordinary expenses, and other matters of a financial nature according to the norms of canon law and the ordinances of the general chapter. 10° Other matters according to the enactments of the general chapter. For the following requests to the superior general and his council: 1° The condonation in whole or in part of the dowry of those having degrees or compensating abilities, if such a faculty is contained in the constitutions. 2° Dispensation from an entrance impediment of the constitutions. 3° Admission to first temporary profession. 4° Dismissal of a professed of temporary or perPetual vows. 5° Erection and transfer of a novitiate and erection and suppres-sion of houses. 6° The removal, deposition, and replacement of a provincial councilor, secretary, or bursar; and the appointment, transfer, and removal of local superiors, the master and assistant master of novices, the master of the junior professed, the instructor of tertians, and provincial supervisors of schools and studies. 7° All matters for which recourse to the Holy See is necessary. 8° Other matters according to the ordinances of the general chapter. (e) The provincial superior requires the consult~ve vote of his council: For the following acts: 145 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious I° Prolongation of and dismissal from the noviceship. 2° Admission to renewal of temporary profession. 3° The declaration of fact for an automatic dismissal of a professed religions. 4° Other matters according to the ordinances of the general chapter. For the following requests to the superior general and his council: 1° Prolongation of or exclnsion from renewal of temporary pro-fession and exclusion from perpetual profession. 2° Admission to perpetual profession. 3° Other matters according to the ordinances of the general chapter. The treatment of the local council in constitutions is far more varied and unsatisfactory. Canon 653 states: "In the case of grave external scandal or of very serious imminent injury to the com-munity, a religions may be immediately sent back to secular life by a higher superior with the consent of his council or even, if there is danger in delay and time does not permit recourse to a higher superior, by the local superior with the consent of his council and that of the local ordinary." This extraordinary case is the only one in which canon law demands the consent of the local council in a lay institute. The following typical article is a practical summary of what is found in constitutions at the present time. The local superior shall convoke his council every month, or oftener if necessary. Outside of the extraordinary case of canon 653, the local councilors have only a consultive vote except in matters for which the general chapter or the superior general with the consent of his council has decreed that the vote mnst be deliberative. The superior is to discuss with his council the appointment of religions to the local offices and duties not :reserved to higher superiors, the monthly approval of the accounts of the local bursar, financial matters according to the ordinances of the general chapter, the ~material condition and all important matters of the house and its works, the observance of the constitutions, the progress of the religions spirit among the members of the house, and the means to be used to correct abuses and defects that may have crept into the house. Several constitutions impose a deliberative vote for all financial matters. 18. Monasteries of nuns. A monastery is different from a congrega-tion in that the superioress may be obliged to seek the vote of either the council or the chapter (cc. 534, § 1; 543; 575, § 2; 646, § 2). To give again merely a practical summary of what is stated 146 May, 1960 COUNCILS IN LAY INSTITUTES in constitutions, the vote of the chapter is deliberative for ad-mission to the noviceship and temporary profession and consultive for admission to final profession, solemn or simple, and in some monasteries for all the more important affairs of the monastery. The vote of the ,council is deliberative for the dismissal of a novice, investment of the dowry, dismissal of a professed of temporary or perpetual vows, the sending of a professed religious immediately .back to secular .life, appointment and removal of officials of the monastery, alienations, the contracting of debts and obligations, extraordinary expenses; and in some monasteries there is a de-liberative vote previous to that of the chapter for admission to temporary profession. The vote of the council is consultive for the dismissal of postulants; the prolongation of the postulancy, noviceship, or temporary profession; all other important matters of the monastery; and' in some monasteries there is a consultive Vote previous to that of the chapter for admission to perpetual profession, solemn or simple. 19. Federations of nuns. The mother general (president) requires the consent of her council in such matters as the designation of the place of the general chapter; the convocation of an extra-ordinary general chapter; acceptance of the resignation, deposition, and appointment of a successor of a general official; and the erec-tion and suppression of monasteries. The regional mother is obliged to consult her council on such matters as the erection and suppres-sion of monasteries and the possible erection of a common novitiate. It is evideat that the council of a confederation, federation, or region should also be consulted in other important matters. 20. Minutes. There should be a council book, in which the minutes of each session are recorded by the secretary. These are to contain the date, names of the absentees and of any substitutes, all affairs that were discussed, the decisions reached, and the number of votes for and against each decision. The minutes are read and approved by the council at the beginning of the following session. The secretary should add a notation of the vote by which the minutes were approved. The minutes are then signed by the superior and the secretary or, according to some constitutions, by all the councilors. In many congregations the minutes are signed by the superior and the secretary before the approval of the council, and there are also congregations in which this approval is not prescribed. The reading and approval of the minutes are an or-dinary practice in both secular and religious bodies of this nature. 21. The assistant and vicar. The constitutions of lay institutes 147 JOSEPH F. GALLEN ordinarily determine that the assistant takes the place of the superior, whether general, intermediate, or local, when the latter is absent or for any reason whatever is unable to exercise his office. They prescribe with equal frequency that the assistant, as vicar, succeeds immediately but provisionally to the office of superior on a vacancy by death, resignation, removal, or deposition. A vicar has all the powers of a superior, as has also an appointed acting superior. The right to convoke and preside over a council appertains to the superior, vicar, and an acting superior. A few constitutions enact that the general or provincial assistant con-yokes, and presides over the council when the respective superior is sick, absent, or otherwise impeded. Unless expressly forbidden by the constitutions, any superior may also give even general delegation to his assistant to do this (c. 199, § 1); and this power is explicitly stated in some constitutions. It is not the practice of constitutions to make provision for sessions of the local council in the absence or incapacity of the local superior. Any vicar or acting superior, whether general, intermediate, or local, should hold the sessions prescribed by the constitutions, sinve he pos-eesses the authority of a superior. Because his office is provisional and temporary, he should avoid innovations of moment unless these are demanded by the urgency of the matter. 148 The Dictionary of Spirituality R. F. Smith, S.J. THE DICTIONARY OF SPIRITUALITY (Dictionnaire~ de I spiritualit~) is a French reference work devoted exclusively to matters concerned with spirituality. The Dictionary is still in process of being published; three volumes have already appeared, and a large part of the fourth volume has been issued in separate fascicles. The purpose of this article will be to give some idea of the contents of the latest fascicles (nos. 26 and 27; Paris: Beau-chesne, 1959). No attempt will be made here to indicate all the articles included in the two fascicles, but a number of them will be summarized so that readers of R~.v~Ew Fo~t RELm~OUS may have some knowledge of the type of subject matter treated in the Dictionary. As is evident, statements of fact or of opinion are the responsibility of the authors of the various articles in the Dictionary and do not necessarily reflect the views of the editorial staff of the REw~.w. Elevations English spiritual literature does not as a rule use the term elevation as the name of a certain type of meditation book, but both the name and the type have been popular in France; the history of this form of spiritual writing is detailed in the Dictionary from column 553 to 558. The term elevation is actually an ancient one in the history of thought, going back to Plato and other pagan Greek philosophers, the aim of whom was to secure the ~a¢~, or the a~a~7~ (both words mean equivalently elevation or ascent) of the soul to God or at least to spiritual realities. These words were then taken over by Christian writers, and all the more readily since parallel ideas are found in the Bible (see Ps 123:1; 141:2; Col 3:1-2). Hence it is that the traditional description of prayer has always been that of an elevation (or an ascent) of the mind to God. Since the seventeenth century, howev.er, the term elevation has been used in French spiritual literature to denote meditations in which the beauty of the thoughts, the ardor of the feelings, and a certain magnificence of style join forces to lift the soul more easily and gently to the thought of God. Passages of this kind of 149 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious writing are to be found even among pagan writers (for example, the monotheistic hymn of. Aton, some of the passages in Plato and Plotinus); and large sections of the Bible also partake of the nature of elevations (see Jb 36:22-39:25; Tob 13; Is 60-62; Jn 17; Rom 8). So too throughout the course of Christian spiritual literature elevational passages have not been absent, but it was not until modern times that elevations became a separate and self-conscious type of spiritual writing. Cardinal B~rulle gave the greatest impetus to the new form with his frequent elevations, the purpose of which was to bring the spirit of the liturgy into private devotion, The greatest example of elevations is Bossuet's work, Elevations to God on All the Mysteries of the Christian Religion. This type of writing is still frequent among the French, Vandeur and Guerry being, two of the foremost exponents of it today. Elijah Two Carmelite authors (col. 564-72) examine the validity of the traditional association of the prophet Elijah with religious life and with the Carmelite order in particular. The first section of the article remarks that although the Carmelite- tradition of~ the prophet Elijah as the father of monastic life has. not always been based on the soundest reasons, yet the intuition incorporated into the tradition is basically sound; for Elijah is presented in the Bible as a remarkable combination of contemplation and action. Thus, for example, in his dispute with the priesis of Baal on Mount Carmel there is manifested the zeal of Elijah for the worship of the one, true God, even at the possible danger of his. own life. So, too, Elijah shines forth as a man of action in his constant and frequent opposition to the kings whom he regarded as a source of moral corruption for the Israelites. The contemplative aspect of Elijah is shown in the scriptural presentation of him as a man of mystery, removed from other men. His appearancesand disap-pearances are sudden; he lives in solitude, nourished by food pro-vided for him in a supernatural way; the distance between Elijah and other men is strikingly accentuated by his final ascent in a fiery chariot. Finally Elijah is presented as a man who has spoken with God and to whom God has spoken in that small, still voice which is a symbol of God's intimacy with him. The next section of the article considers Elijah and the mo: nastic life. Before the foundation of monastic life, .Greek and Latin fathers rarely referred to Elijah as a model for Christian living; 150 May, 1960 DICTIONARY OF SPIRITUALITY but the fathers of the desert found in him a forerunner of their own way of living, It is in fact in the Life of St. Anthony that is found the first explicit appeal to the example of Elijah as a model of a life lived in the presence of God. This linking of Elijah and the life of perfection continued to grow in the Eastern Church; and in the liturgical feast which was finally accorded Elijah he was hailed with the title usually given to a monk-saint: "terrestrial angel and celestial man." In its beginnings western monasticism did not appeal to the example of Elijah. Later, however, St. Ambrose and St. Jerome expressed the opinion that Elijah could be legitimately considered a forerunner of monastic life; and gradually the monks of the West came to see in the prophet a model for their own virginity, purity of heart, solitude, and life of prayer. Nevertheless there .are but few indications of a liturgical cult to the prophet, and even among the Carmelites the feast of Elijah was a late introduction. It is to be noted that the new preface approved for the feast of the prophet says of him that "he laid the foundations of monastic life." The last part of the article examines the relationship between Elijah and the Carmelite order. During the crusades of the eleventh and twelfth centuries, not a few of the crusaders were drawn to a life of preyer; and some of them settled on Mount Carmel in pursuit of this aim. In 1209 a group of monks living on Mount Carmel re-ceived a rule of life from Albert, patriarch of Jerusalem; later the rule was confirmed in 1226 by Pope Honorius III. These monks became the Carmelites. It is not certain, however, that the monks had come to Mount Carmel out of veneration for the prophet; and their rule does not refer to the prophet as a source of inspiration. It seems more probable that the monks' presence on Mount Carmel gradually led to a devotion to Elijah which eventually became an integral part of the traditions of Carmelite spirituality. The legend of a continuous eremitical life on Mount Carmel from Elijah to the crusaders is alluded to in the Constitutions of the Chapter of London of 1281; and in the fourteenth century the figure of the prophet was linked with the strong Marian tradition of the Carmelites. Elizabeth of the Trinity and Anne Catherine Emmerich Sister Elizabeth of the Trinity (1880-1906) and her life lived in the praise of the glory of the Trinity have been of considerable interest to modern spiritual writers; the Dictionary's brief article 151 R. F. SMITH Review for ReligiOus on her (col. 590-94) delineates the stages of her spiritual progress, At nineteen she found in the writings of St. Teresa of Avila the central orientation of her life: intimacy with God living within her. From that time the aim of her life was to live always in the "cell" which God had built in her heart and one of the most characteristic phrases of her spirituality became that of the "heaven of my own soul." Later the Dominican Father ValiSe taught her to realize the Trinitarian aspect of the divine presence within her, and the reading of the works of St. John of the Cross gave her a full awareness of the transforming effects of the Trin-itarian presence. Meanwhile God Himself had been directing her, leading her through a long, continuous period of aridity and de-pression meant to purify her soul for its final ascent to God. At the end of this period on November 21, 1904, she was led to compose her famous prayer to the Trinity that synthesizes her entire spiritual doctrine. For Sister Elizabeth the fundamental condition of the spiritual life was the ascesis of silence and recollection, a separation from all things that could prevent one from praising God. The essential duty of the spiritual life was to believe in the God who is love and to give Him an adoration of love expressed in an absolute fidelity to His least desire. The model of this life she found in the Incarnate Word, for He is the perfect praise of the glory of the Father. And her final desire in her spiritual life was to join the unceasing praise of the blessed in heaven as that is described in the last chapters of the Apocalypse. Anne Catherine Emmerich (1774-1824) is known today chiefly for the lives of Christ and our Lady attributed to her, but she was also a stigmatist; it is this latter aspect of Anne Catherine that is first discussed in the Dictionary (col. 622-27). Although she possessed a partial share in the stigmata as early as 1799, it was not until 1812 that all the stigmata became apparent in her. Soon after their appearance she was given a full medical and ecclesiastical investigation. The wounds of Anne Catherine, however, yielded to no medical treatment; moreover' continuous medical surveillance established the fact that she fasted from everything except water. Later a governmental examining, board investigated the case and could find no evidence of deception or fraud. In the opinion of the author of the article the stigmata of Anne Catherine must be judged to have been of supernatural origin; a.n.d he quotes with approval the remark of Alois Mager, O.S.B., that the records of the stigmata of Anne Catherine constitute "a rare source for the 152 May, 1960 DICTIONARY OF SPIRITUALITY psychological, religious, and medical study of stigmatisation and other analogous phenomena." The case is not quite so clear, however, with regard to her visions. At the command of her spiritual director, Anne Catherine related her visions from 1818 to 1824 to Clement Brentano; from the notes he took from his almost daily interviews with her, he later published three works on the lives of our Lord and our Lady. Although Brentano himself admitted that Anne Catherine never attributed more than a human value to her experiences, he himself insisted on the historical accuracy of every detail in the works, claiming that Anne Catherine in her visions was actually present at every scene described. Critical study, however, has proved that Brentano actually incorporated into the works he published ac-counts borrowed from other writers. Accordingly in 1927 the Congregation of Rites refused to accept as the writings of Anne Emmerich the volumes published under her name. With regard to the visions actually experienced by Anne Emmerich, the author of the article concludes that it is impossible for anyone today to say whether or not they had a supernatural origin. Devotion to the Infant Jesus The Dictionary's article on devotion to the Infant Jesus (col. 652-82) details the history of that devotion from the earliest times down to our own day. The patristic period of the Church did not in general possess what we would call today a personal devotion to the Infant Savior. Even the liturgical feasts of Christmas and Epiphany did not express such a devotion, for they were primarily instituted to stress religious ideas "and dogmas, and not to com-memorate historical events in the life of Christ. In the earliest history of the Church, the closest thing to a manifestation of a devotion to the Infant Jesus is to be found in the nun~erous pil-grimages to the Holy Land and especially to Bethlehem. With the Middle Ages, however, devotion to the Infant began to grow and to flourish; medieval man, with his taste for the con-crete and his desire for affectivity in his religious life, was led quite naturally to a display of ardent devotion to the appealing figure of the Infant of Bethlehem. The devotion received its first major impulse from St. Bernard; it is in his sermons on the Nativity cycle that are given the first detailed contemplations of the Infant, and there for the first time is His charm described at length. Afterwards St. Francis of Assisi, with his predilection for the 153 R. F. S~I Review for Religious mystery of the Nativity, continued and enlarged the popularity of the devotion to the Infant Jesus. This Franciscan love for the Nativity scene also marked a step forward in the technique of meditation; it was at this time and on the occasion of meditations on the Nativity scene that the Franciscans introduced the method of entering into and becoming a part of the scene meditated on, The ardor with which the devotion was practiced during the Middle Ages can be judged by various indications. It is then that for the first time in the history of Christian sanctity., saints and mystics are given visions of the Infant Jesus. Painters began to depict the adoration of the Infant, thus making the Babe the center of their artistic works. At the same time the use of individual statuettes of the Infant came into existence. Finally, towards the end of the sixteenth century, the Carmelite Francis of the Infant Jesus became the first known person to choose the Infant as his special model. Tl~e frequency with which this title was afterwards used is a dear sign that devotion to the Infant Jesus had assumed the role of an orientating point for the conduct of the spiritual life. The seventeenth century saw another great growth in the devotion. The Infant Christ was a special object of devotion for Cardinal B~rulle who loved to insist that a person interested in the spiritual life could learn from the Infant innocence, dependency, humility, purity, and especially silence. Under B~mlle's influence, the French Carmelite nuns became advocates of the devotion; it was these nuns who popularized the notion that a person must become an infant in order to honor the Infant Word. St. John Eudes introduced a special feast of the Infant (February 6) and composed the oi~ce for it. Olier received a vision of our Lady bidding him to honor the infancy of her Son, and from him the devotion spread throughout the Sulpicians. Towards the end of the seventeenth century, however, devo-tion to the Infant began to decline, possibly because of the con-demnation of Madame Guyon, who had practiced an extreme form of the devotion. In the eighteenth century the devotion was not very prominent, though there was a growth throu~ghout the world in the devotion to the Infant Jesus of Prague. The religious revival of the nineteenth century, however, led to a new growth in the devotion; the extent of this growth can be judged from the number of congregations of religious who placed the name of the Infant Jesus in their official title. The devotion to the Infant Jesus con, tinues to be prominent in the modem Church. St. Teresa of Lisieux practiced the devotion as did the spiritual writer, Dom Vital 154 May, 1960 DICTIONARY OF SPIRITUALI~ Lehodey, whose whole spirituality was centered around the Infant of Bethlehem. Spiritual Childhood The article that is devoted in the Dictionary to a consideration of spiritual childhood or infancy (col. 682-714) is chiefly interesting for the scriptural data that it provides. Spiritual childhood is defined at the beginning of the article as an act of abandon into the hands of the Father made by a soul conscious of its own smallness and radical powerlessness. It is composed accordingly of humility and the consciousness of the divine fatherhood with all the limitless confidence implied by these two elements. This concept of spiritual childhood is to be found in the Old Testament but expressed in different phraseology. It is expressed first of all in the Old Testament theme of poverty. In the early books of the Bible poverty means only the lack of possessior&; but with Isaiah and Sophoniah it adds to this a spiritual meaning, denoting an attitude that is the opposite of pride. This poverty is the theme of some thirty of the Psalms where the poor man is shown to be one whose only wealth is God and who regards himself as an infant in the hands of God. The spiritualisation of this concept of poverty re-ceived its final form in the sapiential books, where the idea of spiritual poverty is completely isolated from its sociological mean-ing and made into a moral-ideal applicable to all, whether rich or poor. This poverty of spirit is a voluntary and total submission to Yahweh with a special emphasis on the smallness and powerlessness and misery of man with regard to his Creator. Poverty in this sense became an essential element in the Jewish religious attitude; it is to be noted that Zechariah (9:9) presented the coming King- Messiah as one who is poor in spirit. The constituents of spiritual childhood are also to be found in another major theme of the Old Testament, that of the father-hood of God. The idea of a divine fatherhood had deep roots in Semitic history; all Semite peoples regarded their national god as the father of the nation. Hence too Yahweh is the father of the Israelites, but in a special sense; since Yahweh is not a national god, but the Ruler of all peoples, His fatherhood of Israel is a special favor given to the Israelite people. Accordingly the prime duty of the Israelites is to honor Yahweh as their father, and He on HIS part must love and protect HIS sons. This loving relationship between God and the Israelite nation is emphasized by another figure of the Old Testament, that of God as the Bridegroom of 155 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious Israel; this figure accentuates the tenderness and intimacy of the union of God with Israel. When we come to the New Testament, it is to be noted that all the elements of spiritual childhood (including the vocabulary) are to be found in Christ's own personal teaching. He makes poverty (in the sense of the Old Testament) the fundamental attitude of His disciples; they must be joyfully aware of their own radical powerlessness with regard to the kingdom and must expect their salvation only from God. At the same time they must address God in their prayers as their Father, and their love for God as their Father demands of them an absolute confidence (see Mk 11:34; Mt 7:7-8; Lk 11:9). Christ also introduced the word child into the vocabulary of the spiritual life. In Matthew 11:25-26 Christ thanks the Father that He has made His revelation not to the wise and prudent, but to little children. The term "little children" is a translation of a Greek word meaning an infant still unable to speak; the doctrine of God, then, is given to those aware of their helplessness and receptive to help from outside of them-selves. Again in Mark 10:14 Christ says that the kingdom of God belongs to children; in this passage Christ's consideration is not directed toward the innocence or simplicity of children, but to their humility, receptivity, and confidence. The kingdom of God is a gift and a grace, and it must be received in the same spirit of de-pendence as the child receives his natural needs from his parents. It is to be noted that in the Gospels two groups of persons are said to possess the kingdom of God: the poor in spirit (Mr 5:3) and children (Mk 10:14). Thereby is made an identification of the poor man of the Old Testament and the way of spiritual childhood.' The poor man of the 01d Testament becomes the child of the Gospel. In the Pauline epistles there is given a sort of negative com-mentary on the word child, as Christ understood it. In his writings St. Paul always gives the word child a pejorative sense, implying childishness and lack of maturity. By so doing, St. Paul is not to be understood as rejecting the way of spiritual childhood, but as forcibly underlining the fact that spiritual childhood or infancy must be carefully distinguished from infantilism, which is not worthy of a Christian. The rest of the article on spiritual childhood or infancy does not add much to the above scriptural teaching. Three things from this section can, however, be noted here. First, growth in the understanding and practice of the way of spiritual childhood 156 May, 1960 DICTIONARY OF SPIRITUALITY developed in the Church under the impulse of devotion to the Infant Jesus. Secondly, it is again emphasized that spiritual child-hood is not childishness but is rather full Christian maturity. And thirdly, the way of spiritual childhood is but the development of the grace given in Baptism by which man is made into a son of God. Education for Sanctity The article (col. 714-27) on the spiritual life of the infant and the pre-adolescent child points out that a child becomes capable of exercising the supernatural powers that were given him in baptism when he reaches the age of reason, that is, when he is capable of an attitude of love and adoration towards God and hence of moral discernment. In many cases, says the author, this period may come quite late, but in well-endowed children who have received good training the age of reason may be reached at the early age of two and a half or three. The presence and growth of the spiritual life in the child can be judged by three signs based on the teaching of St. Thomas in Summa theologiae, 1-2, 112, 5c. These signs are: the child's aptitude for silence and interior recollection; his aptitude to do things for others without expecting a recompense .for himself; and a certain quality of peace and joy in the child's way of acting. The author next considers the various modes in which the child exercises his life of grace. The first way is that of a conversion process, as indicated by St. Thomas in Summa theologiae, 1-2, 89, 6c and ad 3. So St. Teresa of Lisieux experienced a conversion to God at least by the age of three; and Anne de Guign~ at the age of four experienced a conversion from a life of jealousy, anger, and pleasure to a life of love for her neighbor and intimacy with God. Generally this process of conversion takes place on the occasion of the symbols of God that are presented to it. Gradually the child begins to sense the presence and reality of a mysterious Being who is at once very powerful and very lovable and whose name is always uttered by his parents with respect and reverence. The life of grace in children is also expressed in contemplation, and the beauties of nature may well be the means by which the spirit and exercise of contemplation is aroused in them. Children also experience vocation, that is a particular orientation of their life as intended by God. Frequently the exact goal of this orienta-tion remains closed to them, but their life begins to take on a special comportment in accord with God's designs for them (for example, interest in thinking about God or in helping others), and 157 R. F. SMITH they develop a special spiritual climate (for example, joy or com-punction). Finally in this section the author inquires into the possibility of sin. in the infant and small child, concluding that grave sin is rare and practically impossible in children until they reach the ages of seven or eight. In the next part of the article the author considers how a child may be trained so as to allow him to develop the gifts of grace within him. The first requirement is to provide the child with a climate of silence and peace; hence in those training the child there must be calmness and a lack of nervousness, haste, and febrile agitation. The child must also be given a climate of joy, and this will be best achieved if he perceives that those around him regard their Christian life not as a burden but as a privilege. Hence too all religions duties must be presented to the child in a context of gladness. Parents and educators cannot afford to forget that the spiritual life of the child develops largely out of imitation of them. He knows God in the resemblance of those who speak to him about God. From the love of his parents he derives his first idea of the love and providence that God has for him; and the way in which parents and educators pronounce the name of God will be the child's first initiation into the mystery of God. From the beginning the child must be introduced to the fundamental and central truths of the Christian religion: God is great, and He loves us as a father. The communication of religious truth to the child must be made concrete and personal, for the child must be introduced into a living world of reality. Finally the child must be introduced to prayer and must gradually be made a participant in the prayer of his parents and educators. He should be taught the Our Father from the beginning and then other prayers -- short and dense -- drawn principally from the Bible and the liturgy. It is hoped that the above pages will furnish some indication of the kind of article to be found in the Dictionary of Spirituality. The work will be found useful both on the level.of information and on that of inspiration. It should be noted in conclusion that each article of the Dictionary provides bibliographical references for further study and investigation. 158 The Director of the Retreat Hugh Kelly, S.J. ANY PRIEST who has a tree understanding of the Spiritual Exercises will feel a movement of resentment, a desire to protest when he hears himself described as "preaching" a retreat. He can accept "giving" a retreat because the phrase carries the traditional meaning, but he knows that to consider him as preacher is to misunderstand the nature of the Exercises. He has, of course, to deliver conferences; but he must not be merely the preacher. He knows that if he is to be tree to the essential conception of that most distinctive ministry, he must be a director and director even more than preacher. But here a difficulty presents itself to the modem retreat master. There are certain circum-stances in the modem retreat which reduce -- if they do not suppress -- the role of the director. If these are not considered and countered, there is a grave danger that the director may be entirely replaced by the preacher and as a result the value of the Exercises seriously diminished. Before considering the problem presented by modem retreats, it will be necessary to have a clear idea of the role of the director in the Exercises as St. Ignatius understood them. It can be said without exaggeration that the place and function of the director are indicated or supposed in every stage of the retreat. A detailed page-by-page proof of this assertion would occupy too much space ¯ and moreover is not necessary. It will b~ sufficient t9. refer to those parts where the work of the director is most clearly indicated. First of all in position, and even in importance fdr our purpose, come the twenty Annotations, which are a set of practical instruc-tions meant to indicate what. the Exercises are and which are intended t~ help both the director and the exercitant, but chiefly the former. By far the greater part of these twenty are meant for the director. From the beginning they make it clear to him that he is in charge of the retreat, that he is to conduct and control it to such a degree that it can scarcely be conceived without him. He is given detailed instructions as to the manner in which he is to give The Reverend Hugh Kelly is presently stationed at Rathfarnlmm Castle, Rathfarnham, Dublin, Ireland. 159 HUGH KELLY Review for Religious his conferences, to propose the spiritual truths. He is instructed that he is to watch the exercitant so as to get to know his interior reactions, that he is to visit him every day to find out how he is following the meditations, that he is to protect him against those temptations or illusions that will trouble him at certain stages, that he is to impart to him some criteria that will enable him to deal with spiritual experiences, like consolation or desolation. He is also to enlighten and encourage and comfort him. In all this we are very far from the idea of one who merely preaches a set of spiritual conferences; we have a very definite sketch of one whose work is not at all finished when he has ceased to address the exercitant. It is made quite clear that his more important function is to see to it that his message has been received, that it has produced a definite fruit, and that it is carrying the hearer forward on a planned line. Moreover, throughout the course of the retreat, the work of the director is indicated. He is to administer the doctrine ac-cording to the capacity of the exercitant. He is to control the elaborate method and system which constitute a great part of the whole process of the retreat; he has the duty and power to modify, change, omit, retard', hasten, according to the needs of his hearer. This watclfful attention is especially commanded in the business of the election which is the chief work of the whole retreat. The preparation for this decision is the most subtle and delicat~ part of the director's work. He must shepherd the exercitant to this decision in such a way that the latter will be in the most favorable condition, spiritually and psychologically, to make the decision which is most for God's glory. He must enlighten him gradually and skilfully; he must guard him against illusions and errors; he must submit him to strong selected influences; he must dispose him, as it were, in every department of soul; and finally he must instruct him how to manipulate the complex method of election. But in all this elaborate, delicate work the director is, if he is to be true to his proper function, not to impose himself; he is not to urge nor drive nor even to lead. His work is essentially to bring it about, by his skill and prudence, that the exercitant is in the most favorable condition of soul to know the will of God, to feel most surely the attraction of grace, to be freed from inordinate affections in his choice. Hence the director must keep himself in the background; he will arrange the setting, regulate the tem-perature, so to speak, ward off interruptions, induce a suitable 160 May, 1960 DIRECTOR OF THE RETREAT atmosphere. He will then leave the soul face-to-face with God; he will not enter the ring when the decision is being made. This role of the director is clear in the genesis of the Exercises. We know that they record the process and method of St. Ignatius as he passed through the different stages of his conversion and vocation. When he was convinced that he was called to be an apostle, he set about that work in a characteristic way. He was not a preacher, either in natural gifts or with canonical authority. His method was to converse simply with a few hearers in a con-versational tone, to show forcibly and concretely what they were to do to live good Catholic lives, His talks were quite practical: how to examine their conscience, how to distinguish mortal sin from venial, how to make the commandments a living influence in their daily lives. He was concerned that his hearers should apply what he had said to their individual needs. He was primarily a director and not a preacher. When he. came to write down the fruits of his experience, he maintained the chief features of his apostolate: he gave the director the place he himself had played in his work for souls. That distinct place was recognized from the beginning;, and several manuals expounding that role -- called directories -- were composed, one of them by St. Ignatius himself. The chief official directory was drawn up at the desire of Father Aquaviva within forty years of the death of St. Ignatius and was meant to gather up and make permanent the practice and tradition of those who had learned from him. Its purpose is -- as its name indicates -- to lay down what is the function of the director. It is a practical manual, a method of procedure, a set of rubrics, for the conducting of the retreat. Thus the place of the director is fixed as an essential part of the Exercises. The director thus understood has been accepted in the tradi-tion and practice of the reinstated Society of Jesus as well as in the old. But with the lapse of time has come a new kind of religious retreat which does not seem to afford such a place to the director. The type of retreat specifically envisaged by St. Ignatius is one of thirty days, made by a man who probably had no previous exper-ience of spiritual things, for the purpose of coming to a decisio~a about his state of life -- an individual vocation-retreat. The place of a director in such a retreat is obvious and has been described. But the almost universal type of retreat in our time is something quite different; it is given to a religious community, as a prescribed periodic exercise, to those who may have long ago given themselves 161 HUGH KELLY Review for Religious to the service of God and who may well have considerable experi-ence of the spiritual life. The question then arises immediately, Is the traditional role of the director possible or how far is it possible in such aretreat? The question is one that cannot fairly be evaded. We are convinced of the value of the Exercises for the modern apostolate; and this conviction is strongly reinforced by the com-mendation given by Pins XI --' the most splendid testimony given by the Holy See to them. We are convinced of the place the director, that it is something substantial in them. But is a place possible in the modern retreat? The very considerable differences which mark. off the modern retreat from that envisaged by St. Ignatius must inevitably to considerable differences in the manner of giving the Exercises. There will be some obvibus modifications demanded by the conditions. For instance, some of thedoctrines proposed, especially in the beginning of the book, are of an elementary nature --how examine one's conscience, how to prepare for a general confession, and so forth. In our modern community retreat more mature deeper instruction will be expected. In the Directory in Chapter Nine, a considerable freedom is allowed to those who are practiced "in spiritual things." They are allowed to meditate on the subjects which they think useful for themselves or for the purpose they before them in the retreat. In his book La Spiritualit~ de la Com-pagnie de J~su, Father de Guibert discusses some of the changes which the new kind of retreat involves. He points out that those who make a retreat every year the Exercises must be quite familiar and that there is a danger of tedious monotony. overcome that mood of overfamiliarity in the audience and present the Exercises with some measure of freshness, a retreat giver of our day will need to introduce certain "adaptations enrichments." These will generally be the development of basic spiritual ideas of the Exercises, which are capable of hfmite application and development. The question of the director is no less important a problem. The measure and kind of direction prescribed by St. Ignatius an individual inexperienced in the spiritual life and seeking will of God about his state of life would not be appropriate: modern community retreat. That is at once obvious; the problem is to find out how much direction can be given in such a retreat and in what form. The retreat master is dealing with people who have been religions for many years and who may have reached high level of prayer and union with God. The first point to 162 ~Iay, 1960 DIRECTOR OF THE RETREAT noted then is that such people do not need the direction of be-ginners. There could be no need for detailed step-by-step direction, of constant inquiry into" the movements of grace, of warning against temptations and illusions. The stage for such treatment has passed long ago. The second point to be made is that direction need not be continuous. A soul finds itself perhaps at a minor crossroad, about to make a decision which may have considerable consequences; or it may feel attracted to some new method or degree in the spiritual life. Or again a soul needs confirmation, assurance, and encouragement. Such a soul knows that the mere fact of manifesting one's aims, attractions, failures to a sympathetic and competent director will bring light or a warm sense of gratitude and security. The situation of such souls can be easily explained to an experienced director and valuable help derived from such a procedure. That is a true and fairly normal process of direction with souls well advanced. These do not feel the need of constant direction; they will get the help they need with such occasional interview, s. How often does one hear a priest or religious say that a certain retreat marked a stage in their life; and on inquiry it would be explained that the 'deciding influence did not come from what was said at the conference table but from an interview in the confessional. The priest giving the retreat was a trained director; he understood the situation, the needs and capacity of the soul; he gave the advice and enlightenment which the occasion demanded; his help constituted direction in the truest sense. It follows from this that in a retreat according to the method of the Exercises the place of confession is of great importance. It is through the confessional that the director will. do his work; it is there that the general instructions of the conference are applied to the needs and dispositions of the individual. We may have heard retreat masters say that all their work was done at the conferences and that consequently the retreat confession meant for the exer-citant merely the usual weekly confession of rule or at most a brief review of the year since the last retreat. Such an opinion shows a very naive idea of the complexity of the individual soul. It also shows that the director has been replaced by the preacher and that the traditional way of giving the Exercises has been abandoned. That this traditional view is not merely a venerable tradition but still very much a matter of practice is clear from recent works on the Exercises. One article begins by correcting a mistaken view as to the strong point of the whole scheme of the Exercises, the view 163 HUGH KELLY Review for Religious that the value lies primarily, if not entirely, in the rigorous con-nection, the studied progress of ideas. The author points out that such a view takes no account of the interior activity which is suggested and controlled by the director.~ Another article describes in detail the work of finding the will of God pursued by the com-bined efforts of the exercitant and the director. This treatment is not merely historical, but obviously envisages the modem retreat.2 We may take it then that to secure the tree distinctive fruit of a retreat a certain cooperation with the director is generally nec-essary. The soul that is responding more sensitively and generously to the interior movement of the Spiritual Exercises will see the value, ff not the need, of some contact with a skilful director. That contact may be brief, just one or two interviews in the confessional; but such briefmeetings will be truly helpful. They will be sufficient to give assurance about the general direction of the spiritual life and also perhaps sorely needed encouragement to continue to struggle against the paralyzing monotony of fervor maintained. No doubt the experienced soul will be quick to see the application of what the director says in his conferences; but if the troth is one which may have a considerable effect on the spiritual life, then it will be grasped more firmly and fruitfully if discussed with the director. In such a situation it is clear that the preacher has not taken over full control. The influence of the director is felt; it permeates all the stages; it is discreetly active behind the conferences. The director has not merely preached spiritual doctrine; he has tried to apply it. He has not merely instructed; he has actually guided. He has kept in touch with the individual exercitant -- at least with those who have realized the need or benefit of direction. He has a certain idea of how the Holy Spirit is working in that section of his audience, of how His inspirations are being received. In the sixth Annotation St. Ignatius points out that the entire absence of spiritual movements might constitute a suspicious sign. It might well indicate that the exercitant is not doing his duty, is not cooperating by his fidelity to the conditions of the retreat. Consequently he should be questioned with a view to discovering if his aridity is the result of negligence or is due to the action of God. If a retreat consists of a series of lectures, then the work of the preacher is done when he stands up from the table. He is 1Jean Laplace, "L'Expdrience du discernement dans les Exercices de Saint Ignace," Christus, 4 (1954), 28-49. 2Charles Jacquet, "Le rSle de l'instructeur de la retraite," Christus, 10 (1956), 208-24. 164 May, 1960 DIRECTOR OF THE RETREAT not expected to interest himself in the effect of his words on individual hearers. But in .such a situation there is no meaning in the Annotation of St. Ignatius. From what has been said it is clear that in a retreat according to the tradition of the Spiritual Exercises the confessional will play an important part because the work of direction will be done there. From the beginning then the director should make that fact evident. He should do what he can to get the exercitant to speak freely about his interior life. Whether .because of a certain natural reserve or because of a want of practice, many people find it very difficult to open their souls. The skilled director should have acquired means of dealing with these inhibited souls who have been locked up in themselves. There are certain leading questions which may help to split or melt the shell of reserve they have built around their interior life, questions which may set them thinking that the occasion may mean more than the telling of their sins and that there might be some benefit in revealing their state of soul to the gaze of a skilled and sympathetic director. "Are you satisfied with your progress after so many years .of religious life? Do you realize practically what your vocation de-mands of you? Have you been disappointed with religious life? Could you describe your way of prayer? Have you noticed a change in your prayer since the noviceship? What do you think is the strongest attraction which God exercises on you? Are you satisfied with living the daily routine superficially without much advertance to the general purpose of your religious life, which is perfection? Do you realize that perfection consists in charity? What is your idea of being a saint?" Questions like these will often come with a kind of revelation to certain souls. These questions are perhaps a new approach to the spiritual life; they may show a fresh aspect of what had seemed dull and uninteresting. They will often loose tongues which have been atrophied and open up interiors that will benefit greatly by light and air. We may take it that every religious is interested in his spiritual life, that he is prepared to talk about it if he knows how to do so and if he sees that another is taking an interest in him and is prepared to help him. This power of unlocking consciences is a part of the endowment of the director. It will, of course, be possessed in unequal measure; but every priest who gives the Exercises should try to cultivate it. There is another aspect of this attention to direction in a retreat which is worth emphasizing. The obvious handicap which the giver of the Exercises has to start with is the fact that they 165 HUGH KELLY Review [or Religio~8 are well known to his hearers. Most of these have made the Exer-cises before, perhaps many times. The foundation, sin, the kingdom, the standards -- they have been over that road before and know every step of it well. The strategic value of surprise, so sought after in warfare, must necessarily be sacrificed; there can be no surprise -- substantially -- in the Exercises. One who gives a retreat not based on the Exercises is free from this disadvantage. His hearers live in an atmosphere of expectancy. They troop to every new lecture as travelers to a mystery tour. Such a retreat may well be a series of unexpectancies and even surprises. The director of the Exercises, who has to forego this strategic pedagogic advantage, must try to compensate some other way. What he loses on the swings he must make up on the roundabouts. He will, of course, try to give what freshness he can to his meditations; but it is the Exercises he is giving, and for all his ingenuity most of what he says will be well known to his hearers. But he has another resource in his difficulty; a resource that may well make the retreat something really personal and appealing. He must remember that he is a director. He must try to bring the Exercises home to the needs of the individual soul. He must see to it that the retreat is not merely a set of entertaining instructions; but that the exercitant cooperates with the light and grace that are offered. This is the work of direction which, if skilfully per-formed, can more than make up for the familiarity of the matter. The truest benefit and even interest of a retreat will not come so much from the originality of the conferences as from the degree in which the truths have been assimilated and experienced. This statement is but a free translation of the well-known second Annotation of St. Ignatius which states a principle of the highest importance for prayer: "for it is not to know much, but it is to understand and savor the matter interiorly, that fills and satisfies the soul." This savor or taste of spiritual truths, this personal appreciation of the ways of God, does not come as a matter of course with the hearing of a discourse; it presupposes a distinctive personal effort. It will come from a sensitiveness of the exercitant, to which the action of the director will greatly ~ontribute. When it comes it is the true measure of the value of the retreat. It has made new and fresh some truths which were thought to be old and worn. The truths which St. Ignatius strung together in the pattern which constitutes the Spiritual Exercises and which had such an astounding effect on men like Xavier and Faber and Canisius 166 May, 1960 DIRECTOR OF THE RETREAT were not new truths; they belonged to the general Christian tradi-tion. The originality of St. Ignatius is that by means of the pattern and system he has given to these truths he can communicate to others something of the force and power that he himself got from them. His presentation of these truths presupposes the cooperation of the director. A person might read the book without feeling any particular enlightenment or enflaming of soul. The Exercises, if they are to produce their effect, must be given, administered; delivered, not merely read or heard. If that cooperation which St. Ignatius and tradition assigned to the director ceases to be forthcoming, then the Spiritual Exercises will lose one of the chief conditions of their efficacy. Without the work of the discernment of spirits in which the director has a necessary role, the Exercises are nothing, says P~re Laplace. "They will perhaps furnish an occasion for prayer in silence, for learning how to examine one's conscience and make a good confession. These advantages are not to be despised, but it is not necessary to go ~o St.~ Ignatius to get them.''~ The Exercises promise a greater, rarer spiritual benefit, but on condition that they are made in their true conditions. 80p. cir., p. 48. 167 Survey of Roman Documents R. F. Smith, S.J. THIS ARTICLE will give a survey of the documents which appeared in the December, 1959, issues of Acta Apostolicae Sedis (AAS). All page references throughout the survey will be to the 1959 AAS (v. 51). Encyclical on the Missions Under the date of November 28, 1959 (pp. 833-64), John XXIII issued the encyclical Princepspastorum. The new encyllcalwas occasioned by the fortieth anniversary of Pope Benedict XV's apostolic epistle on the missions, Maximum illud; to a large extent the encyclical of the present Pope is a reiteration and confirmation of the mission principles laid down in Benedict XV's document. The first principal division of the encycEcal is concerned with the need of a native hierarchy and clergy in mission lands. John XXIII recalled with gratitude the great increase in native clergy since the publication of Maximum illud. The Pope noted that the first Asian bishop was consecrated in 1923 and that Vicars Apostolic were taken from the native African clergy in 1939. Up to the year 1959, 68 Asian bishops had been consecrated and 25 African bishops. Statistics re-garding native clergy are even more impressive. In 1918 there were 919 native priests in Asia; by 1957 that number had increased to 5,553. In the same year, 1918, Africa had 90 native priests, while by 1957 their number had increased to 1,811. John XXIII then went on to urge the present members of the native hierarchy and clergy in mission lands to exercise their priesthood faithfully. He exhorted them to preach to their people about the dignity and greatness of the priesthood and to urge them to pray the Lord of the harvest to send more laborers into the field. The Vicar of Christ also noted that missionary lands stRl need the help of priests from other countries; such priests are not to be regarded as strangers, because every priest finds his fatherland wherever the kingdom of God is beginning or flourishing. The second principal part of the encylical emphasizes the necessity of a thorough training for the native clergy of missionary lands. This training, the Pope insisted, must first of all provide for the sanctity of the native clergy, for it is chiefly by sanctity that a priest becomes the light of the world and the salt of the earth. After sanctity, the most important thing is a solid and complete intellectual training of the native clergy. In this connection the Pope noted that the seminary training should not take place in localities too distant from the society of other 168 I~OMAN DOCUMENTS men, for the native clergy must be led to understand their people and should be trained to take over their leadership. The seminary training of the native clergy should give adequate time to the study of missiology, according to the wishes and directives of Benedict XV and the following pontiffs. The native clergy should be encouraged to baptize the native culture; like Matthew Ricci, they should be so educated in an under-standing and appreciation of the native culture that they will attract their countrymen to the truth of Christianity. The native clergy should be trained to use all means of mOderu communication for the spread of Christianity, and they should be given studies of social matters so that they will be equipped to establish a Christian social order in their countries. In concluding this part of the encyclical, John XXIII warned the native clergy that like all priests their first love must be for the whole world and not for their own country; otherwise they will be tempted to love their earthly fatherland more than their heavenly one. The third part of the encyclical is concerned with the native laity of missionary countries. It is not sufficient, the Holy Father emphasized, to convert and baptize large numbers of persons; they must also be trained to work for the present and future increase of the Church. The number of Christians, he said, is insignificant if their quality is low and if they do not bear fruit. Christian education must show the laity the greatness and grandeur of their faith so that they will be inspired to the practice of virtue and of the apostolate. A true Christian must realize that his first and fundamental duty is to be a witness to the truth that he believes and to the grace which has transformed him. It is in the light of this, remarked the Pope, that one must understand the words of St. John Chrysostom: "No one would be a pagan, if we were worthy Christians" (Tenth Homily on i Timothy, Migne PG, v. 62, col. 551). This testimony of the laity, the Pope added, must be given not only by individual Christians but also by the Christian community as such. This will be done especially by a manifestation of that Christian charity which surpasses all distinctions between nations and languages and embraces all men, whether friend or enemy. The fourth principal part of the encyclical considers the training of the laity in the apostolate. This training, the Pope said, should begin from the earliest moments with special emphasis on it at times like the occasion of the administration of the sacrament of confirmation. The Pope praised the work of lay catechists, saying that their work is perhaps the most important apostolate exercised by laymen. He also called for the establishment of Catholic Action on the missions, but warned that it must be adapted to the conditions and necessities of each country. He also noted that Catholic Action does not exclude the possiblity that laymen themselves have varying degrees of direction and administration in it; indeed members of the laity who show signs of leadership should be educated for such direction and administration. The laity must be taught that the influence of Christian doctrine must be manifested in 169 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious the area of public questions, especially those concerning schools, as-sistance to the poorer classes, and the administration of public affairs. The Pope also called for the formation of lay groups in missionary countries to study doctrinal, social, and apostolic matters. In con-cluding this section of the encyclical the Pope urged laymen of the entire Christian world to give serious consideration to means and methods of helping their fellow laymen of missionary countries who have just been converted; and he exhorted bishops to give adequate care to laymen from the missions who may be studying in their dioceses. In the fifth and concluding part of the encyclical, the Holy Father asked the entire Christian world to continue and to increase their aid to the missions. He also urged bishops to allow priests who have a vocation to the missions to follow their desire, even when there is a scarcity of priests in the diocese. In the same way bishops should be ready to let outstanding laymen of their dioceses go to the missions. The final paragraphs of the encyclical are devoted to encouraging missionaries in those countries which are presently persecuting the Church. Allocutions and Messages On November 22, 1959 (pp. 903-7), the Holy Father addressed a gathering of Italian seminarians. In the course of his speech to them the Pontiff offered them a three-point program of life. As future priests they must be characterized first of all by purity of heart. This, he said, has an attractiveness that is irresistible for souls. This purity ofheart, he continued, is the atmosphere in which every serious vocation lives. It is an indispensable conditon for a disinterested service of one's neighbor; .it prepares the incomparable joy of long periods of prayer at the foot of the tabernacle; and it adorns the priest with the attrac-tiveness of Christ Himself. The second need for the priest, the Pope continued, is strength of character. The priest, he pointed out, requires a steellike quality of character and will, for he must engage in a con-tinuous struggle against his passions and his egoism. Future priests must be able to resist the attractions and seductions of the world, and they must be masters of themselves in every situation. Finally, the Pope said, the last mark of a priest must be the ardor of his charity. Charity, he noted, is the fulfillment of the law; hence it is necessary for the faithful fulfillment of one's daily duties, whether these be large or small Charity sustains a priest's obedience to his bishop and makes him Serve his diocese without thought of earthly and human returns. It is also this charity, he told his audience, that will keep a seminarian from giving way in the face of the difficulties he finds in his life of prayer and study. On November 18, 1959 (pp. 867-70), John XXIII add~ressed a gathering of ecclesiastical censors of books. He told them that their work was directed to the discovery of genuinely human and Christian 170 May, 1960' I~OMAN DOCUMENTS values and to the rejection of error and the danger of error. Accordingly their work is a real .pastoral: occupation, participating in the solicitude of the Church to guide and instruct her children in truth. The Pontiff told his listeners, that they must possess a sane realism as well as an apostolic sense and told them to avoid an intransigent severity which scourges but does not encourage. Finally he'suggested to them that their motto in their work should be the ancient phrase: Unity in necessary things; liberty in uncertain things; charity in everything. On NoVember 29, 1959 (pp. 909-11), the Vicar of Christ radioed a message~ to the First National Congress of Cuba and the General As-sembly of the Catholic Apostolate. He told his listeners (who had just received Communion in a body) that since they had just taken the Bread which is Christ, they must have but one heart and one soul, being conscious of themselves as the sons of the one Father. The face of the earth, he continued, would be changed if true charity reigned in the hearts of men. Hatred, he added, brings only the bitter fruits of death, while love establishes social peace. On November 10, 1959 (pp. 865-67), the Pontiff addressed members of the Food and Agriculture Organization. He told his listeners that they were engaged in a true work of mercy, for their purpose is to assist the most unfortunate of human beings -- those who are hungry. He also told them that theexistence of their organization is one of the great signs of the awakening of social consciousness and responsibility in the modem world. The Pope concluded his allocution by praising the combination of realism 'and optimism that marks the work of the organization. On December 6, 1959 (pp.' 908-9), the Pope gave a short address to President Eisenhower, then visiting the Vatican. Miscellaneous Documents Under the date of May 29, 1959 (pp. 871-74), the Sacred Congrega-tion of Rites approved the introduction of the cause of the Servant of God, Guido Maria Conforti (1865-1931), archbishop-bishop of Parma, founder of the Pious Society of St. Francis Xavier for Foreign Missions. By a decree of the Sacred Congregation of the Council issued on Decem-ber 3, 1959 (p. 918), the privilege was granted to all Catholics to change the fast and abstinence of December 24 to December 23. On November 23, 1959 (p. 921), the Sacred Apostolic Penitentiary announced that a partial indulgence of three hundred days could be gained once on the wedding day only (cf. 1960 AAS, v. 52, p. 62) by married couples who with contrite heart kiss the marriage ring 6f the wife and say the follow-ing prayer or one similar to it: Grant, O Lord, that loving You we may love each other and that we may live in accordance with Your holy law. On August 8, 1959 (pp. 915-18), the Sacred Consistorial Congrega-tion published the list of faculties and privileges which have been granted to the Church in Latin America and in the Philippine Islands. 171 VIEWS, NEWS, PREVIEWS Review for Religious The privileges and faculties listed in the document will be in force until December 31, 1969. On November 17, 1959 (p. 920), the Sacred Congregation of Seminaries and Studies declared that a university entrusted to the diocesan clergy or to a religious family depends on the same congregation, even if the university has not been granted canonical erection. Finally the Secretary of State issued on November 16, 1959 (pp. 875-76), the statutes which are to regulate the activity of the newly founded Vatican Film Library. The purpose of the library will be to collect movies and television films concerning the following topics: the Pope, his representatives, and the Roman Curia; apostolic and charitable activity in the Church and cultural works promoted b~ Catholics; the religious life of the world; all works of high artistic and human quality. Views, News, Previews Correction: Missionary Servants AN,V, EieDwIsT, ONRewIAs,L P EreRviReOwRs, ,p iang teh 2e 8J,a oncucaarsyi oisnseude t hoef tfhoell oRw~i.nvgx ~in.w- , formative letter from Fathe~ David O'Connor, M.S.SS.T.: "Surprise and laughter, mixed with a little downright masculine indignation, was the response to our Congregation being referred to as the Missionary Sisters of the Most Holy Trinity! Actually, our oi~cial title is Missionary Servants of the Most Holy Trinity (M.S.SS.T.). We have 230 priests and brothers engaged in missionary works and activities in fourteen states (mostly in the Southern dioceses), the District of Columbh and Puerto Rico. Our motherhouse is now in Silver Spring, Maryland. Our sisters community, Missionary Servants of the Most Blessed Trinity (M.S.B.T.), has its motherhouse in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Over five hundred sisters labor in missionary, hospital and charity work throughout the United States, Puerto Rico and Cuba. They have a modern, distinct habit without the customary veil. The sisters have charge of the charity bureaus in many dioceses and arch-dioceses in the eastern section of our country. It was never the inten-tion of the founder, Father Thomas A. Judge, C.M., to establish two religious congregations. His interest and attention were given to foster~g the lay apostolate among souls who wished to dedicate themselves to this type of work for the Church. When some of these began to live a community type of life, they asked him to petition the proper ec-clesiastical authority to erect them as a religious community. Along with his two religious communities, the lay apostolate group in our Missionary Cenacle family continues to grow and expand. There are well over 1,500 members active in many sections of the country." 172 May, 1960 VIEWS, NEWS, PREVIEWS Summer Institutes and Courses Catholic University of America: The Mari~logy Program will be offered for the fourth time in the 1960 summer session. Registration dates are Jtme 22 to 25; classes begin June 27 and end with examinations, August 4 and 5. Courses are open to both undergraduates and graduates, with credits applicable towards degrees inthe field of religious education. A certificate is awarded those who complete a full two-summer program in the theology of our Blessed Lady. The lectures are under the direction of the Reverend Eamon R. Carroll, O.Carm, assistant professor of sacred theology at Catholic University and past president of the Mariological Society of America. Scheduled for 1960 are: "Advanced Mariology" (two credits) covering privileges of the Virgin Mary such as freedom from inherited and personal sin, fullness of grace, assumption, queenship, and the current question of the Mary-Church relationship; and "Marian Doctrine of Recent Popes" (two credits) covering analysis of papal statements of the past century, such as the Ineffabilis Deus of Plus IX, on the Immaculate Conception, the major rosary encyclicals of Leo XIII, the Ad diem illum of St. Pius X on spiritual motherhpod, the LUX veritatis of Plus XI on divine maternity, the Munificentissimus Deus of Pius XII on the assumption, and the Grata .recordatio of John XXIII on the rosary. A folder with full informatioK is available from the Registrar, The Catholic University of America, Washington 17, D.C. Dominican College, San Rafael, California: Registration for the summer session will take place on June 25 and 26. The session will close on August 3. An extensive undergraduate program leads to the Bachelor of Arts degree. The degree of Master of Arts may be gained in the fields of education,_ English, biochemistry, history, and religion. The graduate program in theology is under the direction of the Domin-ican Fathers of the Holy Name Province. The classes are open to grad-uate students who wish to benefit from them as well as to those who are taking the full program. For the summer of 1960, Father P. K. Meagher, O.P., S.T.M., will give a course in the Epistles of St. Paul; Father J. P. Kelly, D.P., S.T.M., courses in liturgy and ascetical theology; Father John Fearon, O.P., S.T.L., a course in canon law. Four courses will be available for those interested in the Confraternity of Christian Doctrine. Workshops are planned in drama, children's literature, music, and physical education. Religious who wish an M. A. degree from the Catholic University of America may take courses and satisfy all requirements at the Pacific Coast Branch on the Dominican College campus. Three large dormitories are available for sisters, and a new dining room for sisters, priests, and brothers. For the summer session announcement, write to Sister M. Richard, O.P., Dominican College, San Rafael, California. For~lham University: The Tenth Annual Institute on Religious and Sacerdotal Vocations will be held on the campus of Fordham University 173 VIEWS, NEWS, PREVIEWS Review for Religious on Wednesday, July 13, and Thursday, July 14. Priests, religious, and the laity interested in stimulating, encouraging, and promoting voca-tions to the priesthood or religious life are invited to be present. The Fifth Annual Workshop for the Mistresses of Novices, Postulants, and Junior Professed will be held from Monday, July 18, until Friday, July 22, inclusive. The lecturers will be the Reverend Martin J. Neylon, S.J., Novice Master, St. Andrew-on-Hudson, Poughkeepsie, New York; Reverend Edmund J. Hogan, S.J., Chairman of the Department of Theology, Fairfield University, Fairfield, Connecticut; Reverend Joseph G. Keegan, S.J., Department of Psychology, Fordham Uni-versity. The topics to be discussed will be: The Adjustment of the Novice, Prayer, Emotional Maturity in Religious. The Fourth Annual Workshop for Local Superiors will be held from Monday, July 25, until Friday, July 29, inclusive. The lecturers will be Reverend Edmund J. Hogan, S.J., Reverend Joseph G. Keegan, S.J, and Reverend John F. Gilson, S.J., Vice-Chairman, Division of Educational Psychology, Measurements, and Guidance, School of Education, Fordham Uni-versity. The topics to be discussed will be: Prayer, Emotional Maturity, The Spiritual Ideal of the Local Superior. Address all communications to: Reverend John F. Gilson, S.J., Director of Institutes and Workshops, Fordham University, New York 7, New York. Gonzaga University, Spokane, Washington: The summer session for 196o will include three two-week institutes for sisters: "Writings of St. John of the Cross" conducted by Fathers Louis Haven, S.J., and Michael McHugh, S.J., from June 20 to July 1; "Understanding Human Nature," by Fathers Van Christoph, S.J,, and John Evoy, S.J., from July 5 to July 15; "The Last Things," by Fathers Joseph Conwell, S.J., Leo Robinson, S.J., and Vincent Beuzer, S:J., from July 18 to July 29. There will also be a two-week institute for priests from July 18 to 29 in the mornings, on psychological guidance, conducted by Fathers John Evoy, S.J., and Van Christoph, S.J. 'For information about the second year of the Master of Arts program in Sacred Theology (five summer cycle) write to the Reverend Joseph Conwell, S.J., Chairman, Gonzaga University, East 502 Boone Avenue, Spokane 2, Washington. Immaculate Conception Seminary, Conception, Missouri: A pastoral institute will be held this summer for priests and clerics in major orders, both diocesan and religious. The full coursewill'run for eight weeks, June 19 to August 14; however, any number of two-week periods may be attended. The institute is designed to furnish instruction beyond the regular four-year course in theology. For the religious who attend, the days of class may count toward the days of formal instruction required by the apostolic constitution Sedes sapientiae and the annexed Statuta generalia. For information on the institute write to: Director of the Pastoral Institute, Conception Seminary, Conception, Missouri. 174 May, 1960 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Saint Joseph's College, Rensselaer Indiana: An Institute of Liturgical Music, largely modeled after,the Corso Ordinario of Gregorian Chant of the Pontifical Instittite 6f Sacred Music in Rome~, has been initiated. The institute will be held every summer; this year, from June 20 to July 30. The program is open to priests, brothers, sisters, seminarians, lay men' and lay'women. It will offer a comprehedsive program of theory, chant, polyphony~ organ, and so forth, leading to the Bachelor of Arts d'~gree in Liturgical" Music for those students Who have a bachelor's degree from a recognized college or university, or to a Certificate in Liturgical Music for tho~e who do not have a bachelor's degree. All courses in chant and polyphony will be taught by instructors who have been schooled in the Pontifical Institute of Sacred Music in Rome. The faculty Will include Fathe~ Lawrence Heiman, C.PP.S., of St. Joseph's College and chah~nan of the Institute;, Father Eugene Lin-dusky, O.S.C,, of Crosier Seminary, Onamia, .Minnesota; and Mr. Noel Goemanne, choir director and organist'at St. Rita's Church, Detroit, Michigan. Fathers Heiman and Lindusky hold degrees from the Pon-tifical Institute in Rome, Mr. Goemanne, a former student of Flor Peeters, holds a Laureate from Lemmens Institute in Mechelen, Bel-gium. Further',Inform~tion may be obtained by writing to Father Lawrence Heiman, C.PP.S., St. Joseph's College, Rensselaer, Indiana. ( uestions and Answers [The following answers a~e given by Father Joseph F. (~allen, S. J., professor of canon law at Woodstock College, Woodstock, Maryland.I The following questions and ariswers are a continuation of the series on local houses and local superiors which was begun in the March, 1960, issue of the RsvI~.w. 15. We are a clerical exempt order. We have a parish, high school, and'college under the one religious superior. Therefore, there is only one canonically erected house and only one moral person. What permissions do we need to transfer the college classrooms to a location two miles distant from the present location but within the same diocese? Must we have a further permission later when the college faculty begins to reside at the new location while re-maining, however, under the authority of one and the same local superior as at present? This is a question of a separated establishment (c. 497, § 3). Sep-arated establishments, whether built or opened, that is, to be constructed or used as such in a building already constructed, demand for validity the special written permission, of the ordinary of the place of the estab-lishment. For validity, the permission must be in writing; and the argument is the same as that given in Question 11. This permission 175 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Review for Religious of the ordinary is sufficient for any institute, even if exempt (cf. Question 13). The permission is special in the sense that it must be distinct from that given for the canonically erected house to which the establishment is attached. These establishments may be for any purpose whatever, for example, all types of schools; hospitals; clinics; orphanages; homes for the aged, the poor, or delinquents; recreation centers; places for the education of candidates for the institute, and so forth. Their two distinctive notes are that they are separated from and are part of the canonically erected houses to which they are attached. If they are not separated, for example, to be located on the same grounds, no permission of the local ordinary is necessary, unless such a work was excluded in the permission for the religious house. Separation was defined in Ques-tion 2. If they are to be canonically erected houses, all the formalities described above in Questions 11-13 are necessary. All strictly filial houses obviously come under the. present heading, since they are merely separated establishments in which the religious reside. Authors frequently presume that all such establishments are filial houses, that is, that the religious reside in them. This is not always true, for example, as in the present question, religious have begun colleges at a distance from their house without residing in the college for a considerable period after its opening. No added permission would be necessary to begin residence in such a case, since this is not a formal external change in the establishment nor in itself anything that demands an immediate change of the establishment into a canonically erected house. If a small school is opened by a parish or diocese and sisters residing in another house are engaged simply to teach in it, the special permission of canon 497 is not required, because the institute itself did not build or open this establishment. The special permission will be necessary if and when the sisters are to reside in the small house as a filial house. It is more probable that a separated establishment or filial house should be located at least within the same diocese as the canonically erected house of which it is part, since the canon demands a special written permission for either of these, that is, one distinct from that given for ,the canonically erected house, and thus appears to state that the same local ordinary is to give both permissions. Several' authors exclude a long distance between the canonically erected house and its dependencies. They argue that otherwise the dependence would be apparent rather than real and that the members of the filial house would not be able to exercise their rights in the canonically erected house (cf. Question 6). Neither of these arguments appears to be certain. The dependence of the filial house is less when the authority of the one in charge is delegated by a higher superior, as may be done and is the practice in centralized institutes. It is certainly the practice of religious institutes to locate especially filial houses at a distance and in other dioceses, and constitutions approved by the Holy See contain no general 176 May, 1960 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS norm contrary to this practice. When a separated establishment or filial house is to be located in

Issue 13.3 of the Review for Religious, 1954. ; A. M. D. G. Review for Religious MAY 15, i95.4 Pontificate of Pius X . , . . . J.P. Leonard Pray Reasonably . Joseph F. Gallen ¯ -Nature and Grace . : . Joseph P. Fisher New Little Office . o Adam C;.'Ellis Secular Institutes . . . Fr,~ncis N. K~orfh ¯ Father Larraona:s Golcl~n "Jubilee Questions and Answers ~ .~ Book Reviews News and Views ~ VOLUM~ Xlll,' NUMBER 3 VOLUME XIII MAY, 1954 NUMBnR 3 CONTENTS FATHER LARRAONA'S GOLDEN JUBILEE .1.1.3. THE PONTIFICATE OF PIUS X~ ~ Most Reverend d. P. Leonard, 8.J . 114 BI[,ESSED PlUS X--SOME D.ATES . 124 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . 124 PRAY REASONABLY--Joseph F. Gallen, S.d . 125 NEWS AND VIEWS-- Pius X; Adaptation and Prayer: Silver Jubilee; Congress in Canada; Summer Sessions; Institute of Spirituality . 137 NATURE AND GRACE--Joseph P. Fisher, S.J .142 NEW REVIEW OF SPIRITUALITY . 148 NEW EDITION OF THE LITTLE OFFICE--Adam C. Ellis, S.J. 149 MORE ABOUT SECULAR INSTITUTES--Francis N. Korth, S.J. 153 PLENARY INDULGENCE FOR SEVEN SORROWS BEADS 159 BOOK REVIEW (Nature and Grace). . . 160 BOOKS ABOUT MARY . 160 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS . 161 MARIAN YEAR PLAY . 165 NOTICE FOR PUBLISHERS . 165 "QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 16. Form of Address for Sisters . 166 17. Bowing while Kneeling " 166 18.Duty of Delegate to Members Electing Him . 167 19. Cashing of Insurance Policy by Novice . ; 167 20. Tabernacle Veil for Benediction after Mass . 168 21. Flowers on Altar during Penitential Seasons . 168 PRAYER FOR SICK . " . 168 MORE INDEPEiklDENT AURELIANS . 168 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, May, 1954, Vol. XIII, No. 3. Published bi-monthly: January, March,May, July, September, and November at the College Press, 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas, by St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approbation. Entered as second class matter January 15, 1942, at the Post Office, under the act of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Augustine G. Ellard, S.J., Adam C. Ellis, S.J., Gerald Kelly, S.J., Francis N. Korth, S.J. Copyright, 1954, ,by Adam C. Ellis, S.J. Permission is hereby granted for quota-tions of reasonable length, provided due.credit be given this review and the author. Subscription price: 3 dollars a year; 50 cents a copy. Printed in U. S. A. Before writin9 to us, please consult notice on inside back cover. ON DECEMBER 8, 1953, the Most Reverend Father Arcadio Larraona, Secretary of tb~ Sacred Congregation of Religious, celebrated the fiftieth anniversary of his religious profession in the Congregation of the Missionary Sons of the Immaculate Heart of Mary (C.M.F.). Father L~irraona was born in Spanish Navarre, November 12, 1887. At the age of twelve be entered the apostolic school of the Claretian Missionaries at Alag6n, near Zaragoza. After completing his classical studies, he made his novitiate at Vich, in the Province of Barcelona, and pronounced his first religious vows on December 8, 1903. His philosophical and theological studies were made at the University of Cerv~era. He was ordained priest in Zaragoza~ in 1911. Not long after ordination be went to Rome to do post-graduate studies in canon law. He received the degree of Doctor Utriusque Juris (Doctor of both Civil and Canon Law). Several years later, in 1918, he succeeded Cardinal Massimi in the chair-of Roman Law on the Faculty of San Apollinare. He held this posi-tion for over thirty years. In 1920, together with Fathers Maroto and Goyeneche, he founded the Comrnentarium pro Religiosis. of which he is the chief editor today, and in which he continues to publish what will un-doubtedly become the most exhaustive commentary on the canons of the Code concerning religious ever attempted. For twenty-five years and more he has been attached to^ the Sacred Congregation of Religious--first, as Consultor;. then as Under Secretary; finally, as Secretary. He became Under Secretary, November 27, 1943. By an Apostolic Brief dated November 11, 1950, Pope Plus XII appointe~'d him Secretary. He has also served other Sacred Congregations of the Roman Curia and will be espe-cially remembered for the active part he took in the formulation of the Code of Canon Law for the Eastern Church. It was our privi; lege to have him preside over the First National Congress of Reli-gious in the United Sates, held at the University of Notre Dame, August 9-12, 1952. The editors and readers of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS extend their best wishes to Father Larraona on this. happy occasion, and they ask Our Blessed Lady, during this Marian Year, to obtain for her faith-ful son an abundance of spiritual blessings. 113 The Pon :it:ic :e ot: Plus X Most ReverendJ. P. Leonard, S.J. .| F THERE IS ANYTHING that strikes us when studying Church | history it is the amazing fact that she has weathered the most fearful storms and survived attacks both from within and from without that should, normally have wrecked any institution, how-ever solidly egtablished. The secret lies in the'words of Our Blessed Lord to His apostles: "Behold, I am with you all days even until the consummation of the world . " With special cogency do these words of Christ apply to him whom He appointed head of the Apostolic College and invested with the supremacy of power, to Peter and his successors. "And the Lord si~id, 'Simon, Simon, be-hold Satan hath desired to have you that he may sift you as wheat: but I have prayed for thee that thy faith fail not; and thou, being once converted, confirm thy brethren' " (Luke 22:31-32). The meaning is plain: as the Church rests on the Papacy as .on an unshakable rock bed, so the Papacy itself derives its security and its strength from Christ the cornerstone. The history of the Church is the history of the Papacy. It is the Papacy that ensures her well-being and expansion, that wards off the blows which are leveled against her; it is the Papacy that fos-ters and promotes her many works, that organizes and directs her mission of teaching, of guiding, of sanctifying the souls redeemed by the precious blood of her Founder. It is the Papacy that steers the 15ark of Peter over dangerous seas and through lurching reefs. We find this verified in the splendid succession of Pontiffs who occupied the Chair of Peter during the past hundred years and not least in Pius X, who was beatified June 3, 1951. Many of this holy Pontiff's activities are apt to appeal to us in a particular manner as they bear directly on the pastoral ministry. Not that his action was restricted to matters of internal organization and parochial duties. Like his illustrious predecessor and his no less illustrious succes-sors in the Chair of Peter, he had to tackle all .the intricate ques-tions of the day, ,keeping his hand on the pulse of ailing humanity so as to ~uggest suitable remedies for the many ills of mankind. ~Still it is true to say that his greatest care always turned to the direct in-terests of the Church and to the realization of the program which hc outlined at the beginning of his reign, and which "he crystallized 114 THE PONTIFICATE OF PlUS X in'the motto: lnsta{tre omnia in Christo (Eph. 1:10)--"to renew all things in Christ." I. HI~ SOCIAL MESSAGE AND DIPLOMATIC RELATIONS That Pius X, for all his-absorbing solicitude fo~ the internal organization of the Church and the spiritual improvement of the Christian communities, nevertheless kept in close touch with the so-cial,' economic, and political trends bf his time, we gather from his wise ordinances in the field of social action and from his relations with governments. 1. Social Action Aware of the important contribution which Pope Leo XIII had made towards the solution of the Social Question and in full sympa~ thy with the principles laid down in the encyclical Return novarurn, ~Pius X pledged the fullcooperation of the Church to the establish-ment of a healthy social order. In a motu proprio dated Dec. 18, 1"903, he drew up a list of nineteen propositions,, collected from various encyclicals of Leo XIII, in which he pointed out the chief pitfalls to be avoided and the safe course to be followed. He had sensed dangerous leanings towards socialism and was keenly alive to the prevalence of a growing spirit of independence and insubordi-nation to ecclesiastical authority. Soon after, he dissolved the ex-isting Catholic welfare and social-reform organization of Italy, the Opera dei Congressi, and substituted a new organization aiming at eliminating the causes of friction and at creating an atmosphere con-ducive to a healthy social action. His encyclical II ferr, o proposito (June 11, 1905) outlined a scheme of "Catholic Action~' which Plus XI wasito develop later on. W~hat he achieved for Italy, he also tried to effect for FranCe, where the Sillon (the F,urrow)--a social movement avowedly Catholic in aim--was rallying the support of the more enthusiastic and enterprising among the French Catholics. The movement, however, showed signs of drifting into dangerous innovations. Pope Plus X ordered it to be reorganized under episcopal control ~Aug. 25, 1910). In Germany, where the Catholic minority was still fighting for its rights, the guilds and ~/olkst~erein were organized on a strong sociological basis. But the Pope had to warn them against an ex-cessive independence (encyclical Singulari quadam, Sept. 24, 1912, on Catholic and mixed labor organizations in Germany). Social Relief--The kindness and charity of Pius X were a 1-15 J. P. LEONARD Reuiew for Religious byword in Rome and throughout the world. Not content with greatly encouraging charitable institutions and relief organization-s in aid .of the destitute, he set a noble example. So great were his charities that people wondered where his funds were coming from. His sympathy and support were always on the side of the weak and the .oppressed. Witness his outspoken condemnation of the harsh treatment meted out to the Indian labor in the rubber planta-tions of Peru (cf. the encyclical Lamentabili statu, June 7, 1912.). When in 1908 the town of Messina was almost entirely destroyed by an earthquake of extraordinary violence, the Pope organized a relief commission and placed the home of Santa Martha by St. Pe-ter's at the disposal of the refugees. Calabria, too, experienced his outgoing charity during the great earthquake that visited that prov-ince. Seven million francs were collected and spent in works'of re-lief and reconstruction. Nor was the Pope's solicitude confined to Italy. Public misfortunes everywhere found him ever ready to step in with a generous donation. 2. Diplomatic Relations Plus X was a lover of peace and he had nothing more at heart than to secure harmony and collaboration between Church and State. The principle that guided his policy in his relations with governments was clearly set forth in an address to Argentine pil-grims to Rome: true to God and to the Church, the Catholics were pledged to loyal allegiance to the civil authorities so long as the rights of God and the liberties of the Church were not compromised. "The Church," he said, "will always defend the constituted au-thorities, imposing love, obedience, respect and observance of the laws, helping the State to provide for the maintenance of peace." But in many countries the Church had fallen on evil days, and Plus X was hard put to it to maintain cordial relations. The spo-liation of the Papal States was still relatively recent, demanding an attitude of aloofness and protest against the Italian Government. Pius X followed the policy of his predecessors, while cautiously exploring all the avenues to a reconciliation. By opportune repre- " sentations and by exerting his personal influence he succeeded in pre-venting a divorce bill and other irreligious legislation from going through the Italian Parliament. In.,Fran.ce the religious situation was particularly difficult. In 1901 the Law of Associations against religious orders and congre-gations resulted in thousands of religious men and women being 116 May, 1954 THE PONTIFICATE OF PlUS X compelled to go into exile and closing thousands of institutions. In 1904 the famous Combes at one blow closed more than 14,000 congregational schools. In 1905 the concordat of 1901 was denounced by the French Government and diplomatic relations with the Holy See were sun-dered. A decree of separation of Church and State was passed and an aggressive campaign against the Church was launched (cf. the encyclical Vel~emer~ter, Feb. 11, 1906). The question of ecclesiastical property became a thorny one. The Government proposed the establishment of what was termed cult.ual associatior~s. Though some leading Catholics were decidedly of.the opinion that the scheme might be given a trial, the Pope in consultation with the French episcopacy rejected it as uncanonical (encyclical Graoissirao ot~icii, Aug. 10, 1906). It was a severe blow as it deprived the French clergy of all State help and made them de-pendent on Catholic charity alone. But it had the advantage of freeing the Church from all State domination. Said Mgr. Gauthey, Bishop of Nevers: "Pius X at the cost of sacrificing our property emancipated us from slavery. May he be forever blessed for not shrinking from imposing that sacrifice on us!" Pius took advan-tage of the newly won freedom to consecrate over a score of bishops, filling all the vacant sees without any .reference to the Government. _Nor was the Government x}ery happy over the results of its tyran-nical onslaught on the Church. The firm attitude of Pius X caused it 'such embarrassments that after a period of twenty st6rmy years it agreed to another, and canonical, settlement for the administration of Church property. Portugal fol!owed the pattern of France. In 1910 a revolution broke out and a republican government of a strongly anticlerical bias took over. As a result, the religious congregations were ex-pelled and their property confiscated. The c6ncordat of 1886 was repudiate.d and a decree in favor of separation of Church and State was enacted. In neighboring Spain, too, trouble was brewing. But Latin America, on the whole, remained loyally attached to the Holy See. On the other hand, the new Government of Turkey sent an am-bassador to the Vatican and shortly before the outbreak of World War I a concordat was signed with .Serbia. Pius X had not been trained in diplomacy. What guided his outlook and policy was a deep understanding of the Church's mis- Sion and the consideration of the primacy of the spiritual over the J.P. LEONARD temporal. His direct way of dealing with critical situations may not have appealed to those who favored more subtle and round-about methods of approach, but it was not less effective, while the simplicity and affability of his manner were singularly impressive and disarming. On the other hand, his firmness sprang from a deep-rooted conviction that if God permitted trials to befall His Church, it was with a view to her ultimate good and greater free-dom. While trustingly biding his time and God's chosen 'hour ,he gave his unstinted attention and care to other tasks of a more con-genial nature. II. ORGANIZATION AND LIFE OF THE CHURCH 1. Pope Pius X's name is associated with important ecclesiastical reforms. The Roman Curia--His first care was to reorganize his own household and to improve the administrative machinery at the cen-ter. His Curia had to deal with an overwhelming mass of ecclesiJ astical material. To dispose of it expeditiously is an herculean task. Pope Plus X set about overhauling the complicated organization, introducing administrative changes which experience has proved to be very wise and effective (constitution Saplentl consilio. June 29, 1908). According to the reformed system, the work is judiciously distributed among twelve Congregations, three Tribufials, and five Offices, each with its personnel and its appointed task. To give but one example, up to the reign of Plus X such coun-tries as England, Ireland, the United States, Canada, and Holland had been under the jurisdiction of the S. Congregation of Propa-ganda. The Pope placed them under the jurisdiction of the Consis-torial Congregation, thus restricting the territorial domain of Propaganda and relieving it of a considerable amount of work. Roman Commissions--As early as March 19, 1904, Plus X appointed a special Commission under Mgr. Gasparri, later Car-dinal, as secretary, to codify canon law--an urgent and most diffi-cult task already recommended by the Vatican Council (motu pro-prio Arduum sane munus, March 19, 1904). The Pope watched the prodress of this great work with the liveliest interest. But he did not live to see the pr?mtilgation of the new Code (in 1917). He also reorganized the Biblical Commission, set up a commis-sion for the revision and correction of the Vulgate text of the Bible, and in 1909 founded the Biblical Institute for Scriptural studies. Another commission was entrusted with the revision of the brevidry. 118 May, 1954 THE PONTIFICATE OF PIUS X New Ecclesiastical Units--Nor was the Pope less concerned with the progress of the Church at large. During his tenure of office, Plus X created twenty-eight new dioceses, sixteen vicariates apostolic, and. fifteen prefectures apostolic. 2. But above all he directed his attention to matters of ecclesi-astical discipline, to promoting the liturgical and devotiona~ life of the Church and to Christian doctrine. " Training of the Clergy- As I~ishop, his chief care had been de-voted to the formation of the cler~gy. No wonder that as P~ope the functioning of the seminaries became the object of his constant so-licitude. Small and inefficient semin,aries were suppressed. Where necessary, r,egional seminaries were established. A new order of studies based oh that of the Roman seminary was promulgated, and bishops were exhorted to spare no pains in seeing that the candidates to the priesthood were properly trained in learning, ~iety, obedience, and zeal. His exhortatioh to the clergy all over the world gives ex-pression to his inmost desires and tender solicitude in this direction. It was published on the occasion of the 50tI~ anniversary of his own priestly ordination (Aug. 4, 1908). Full of affection and wise counsel it concludes with the words: "Reform of the priesthood is the~best gift that can be offered Us on the occasion of Our own sacer-dotal jubilee." Care for the lntegrit'g of the Faith--The purity,of the faith Pope Plus X cherished like! the apple of his eye. Aware of certain dangerous tendencies that threatened the objective and immutable character, of the Catholic teaching, he ~¢as loud in his denunciation and drastic in his condemnation. In the decree Larnentabili (July 3, 1907) he singled out .sixty-seven propositions for ecclesiastical censure. This syllabus was followed shortly afterwards by the en-cyclical Pascendi (Sept. 8, 1907) in which he dealt with modern-istic innovations, and laid down wise rules as to how to combat these pernicious doctrines. Among the means he advocated, he in-sisted particuiarly on the censorship of books and the creation of a "Committee of Vigilance." Subsequently, by the motu proprio Sacrorurn Antistitum (1910), he prescribed the oath against Mod-ernism. ' Solicitude /:or the Divine Worship--Anxious to preserve pure and intact the sacred deposit of faith and the traditional teaching of the Ch~urch, Pope Plus X was no less concerned with the honor of the house of God and the splendor of the liturgy. He earnestly de-sired that the liturgical functions should be a worthy manifestation 119 J. P. I~EON_ARD Review for Religious of faith and devotion. Lex orandi lex ~redendi. To that end he insisted that Church music should be in keeping with the decorum and respect due to divine worship~. As a parish priest, as Bishop of Mantua, and as Patriarch of Venice he had shown himself an ardent promoter of the Gregorian chant and had befriended and patronized the distinguished ~omposer Lorenzo Perosi. As Pope he published the Motu proprio on sacred music (Nov. 22, 1903) stating the general guiding principles of the Church and drawing up clear regu-lations. , "Sacred music," he wrote, "should possess in the highes~ degree the qualities proper to the liturgy, or, more precisely, sanctity and purity of form from which its other character of universality spon-taneously springs. It must be hold/, and must, therefore, exclude all profanity, not only from itself, but also, from the manner in which it is presented by those who execute it. It must be true art, for otherwise it cannot exercise on the minds of~ the hearers that in-fluence which the Church contemplates when she welcomes into her liturgy the art of music. But it must also be unfioersaI, in the sense that, while every nation is permitted to admit into i~s ecclesiastical compositions those special forms which may be said to constitute its native music, still these forms mustbe subordinated in such a man-ner to the general characteristics of sacred music that no one of any nation may receive any impression other than good on hearing them." S~ecial emphasis was laid on congregational singing. Says Plus X: "Special efforts are to be made to restore the use of the Gre-gorian chant by the people, so that the faithful may again take a more active part in ecclesiastical offices, as was the case in ancient times" (Motu proprio, n,. 3). The Motu proprio also directs that a commission be appointed by the Ordinary to watch over all musical performances. This papal ordinance served a useful purpose. It not only clearly deter-" mined the character of genuine Church music, but it recalled to the attention of the Catholic world the dignity and beauty of the liturgical services and impressed the minds of the faithful with a proper sense of what was due to the majesty of God and the sacred-ness of, His Temple. Devo6on, to the Holy Eucharist~Pius X has been rightly called the Pope of the Holy Eucharist. To combat the lingering in-fluence of Jansenism, he recommended the reception of frequent and even daily Communion. He relaxed the Eucharistic fast in favor of the sick so that they might receive holy Communion twice a month. Marl, 1954 THE PONTIFICATE OF PlUS X or oftener, though unable to.keep the fast. By the decree Quam singulari, dated Aug. 8, 19'10, he ruled that children should be ad-mitted to First Communion shortly after they have attained the age of discretion. What untold blessings for the young accrued from this bold and salutary innovation it is difficult to say. It was of the nature of a minor revolution in the training of the young and laid ¯ them under an everlasting obligation to the loving kindness of the Sovereign Pdntiff. It was at the express desire of Pope Plus X that the Eucharistic Congress of 1905 (the sixteenth) was held in Rome--an event of unprecedented grandeur which set the pace for yet greater develop-ments. As a fitting sequel to that memorable function the Pope pub-lished in December of the same year the decree Sacra Tridentina Synodus advising daily Communion. Devotion to Our Lady--Equally earnest ~vere the Pope's efforts to promote devotion to Mary Immaculate. He extended the commemoration of Our Lady's apparition at, Lourdes to the whole Western world. In 1904 he caused the fiftieth anniversary of the proclamation of the dogma of the Immaculate Conception to be cele-brated with unusual pomp and solemnity. On this occasion he published an encyclical (Ad diem illum), and a Marian Congress was held in Rome, culminating in the crowning of the image of Mary Immaculate in the choir of St. Peter's. Religious Instruction -- Intent on safeguarding the faith against the inroads of Modernism and on promoting piety among the faith-ful, Pius X realized--as no one better--that the best means of achieving his object lay in making the teaching and example of Our Lord better known and loved. Hence his great insistence on reli-. gious instruction. As a parish priest and bishop he had been most assiduous in instructing his people. As Pope he laid special stress on this obligation of the sacred ministry, setting the example by preaching a homily on the Gospel in one of the Vatican courtyards every Sunday. Catechism teaching received a fresh and vigorous impetus after the publication of the encyclical Acerbo nimis, on the teaching of Christian doctrine (April 15, 1905). In this document Pius X attributed the prevailing religious crisis to the widespread ignorance of divine truth and laid down strict regulations concerning the duty of catechizing. He enacted that (1) all parish priests, and, in gen-er, al, all those entrusted v~ith the care of souls, shall on every Sun-day and feastday throughout the year, without exception, give boys 121 J.P.,L~ONARD Reoie~ for Religious and girls an hour's instruction from the catechism on those things which everyon~ must believe and do in order to be saved; (2) at stated times during the year they shall prepare boys and girls by continued instruction, lasting several days, to receive the sacraments of penance and confirmation; (3) they shall likewise and with special care, on all the week day~ in L~nt, and if necessary on other days after the feast of Easter, prepare boys and girls by suitable in-struction and exhortation to make their First Communion in a holy manner; (4) in each and every parish, the society.commonly called "Confraternity of Christian Doctrine" shall., be canonic~lly erected: through this the parish priests, especially in places where there is a s.carcity of priests, vcill have lay helpers for the catecbetical i~struc-tion in pious persons who will devote themselves to the office of teaching. To give effect to this enactment Plus X bad a new cate-chism prepared for use in the Diocese of Rome and in its ecclesiastical province and expressed a desire that it should be adopted throughout Italy. Nor was he less emphatic in prescribing catechetical instruction to adults. We know that the ruling on the subject contained in canon law (cc. 1329-1336, particularly 1332, 1335) Was inserted by his special recommendation. Thus did he hope to oppose an effective remedy to what be deplored as the pernicious, source of the prevailing religious indifference and neglect of the Church's services. CONCLUSION ~,Ve have considered some of the activities of the saintly Pontiff. Summing up his reign, U. ]Senigni writes in the Catholic Encyclo-pedia: "In a few years Plus X has scored great, practical,-and lasting results in the interest of Catholic doctrine and discipline, ,and that in the face of great difficulties of all kinds. Even non-Catholics recognize his apostolic spirit, his strength of character, the precision of his decisions, and the pursuit of a clear explicit programme." (Cf. conclusion of article "Pius X.") ¯ Outward achievements of consequence are indeed a credit to a man, a proof of ability~, a monument to his name. But they do not tell the whole tale. Yv'hat is of greater importance is to probe~the inner spirit that lay back of the actions and prompted them. St. Ber-nard, ~riting to his former disciple Pope Eugene III, reminded him that outward works, however .holy~ and worthy they might be in themselves, were of no value unless they were inspired and sublim-ated by a pure intentiori and actuated by holy motives: they might 122 May. 1954 THE PONTIFICATE OF PlUS X even be fraught with danger inasmuch as by their m, ultiplicity and deadening pressure they were apt to choke and stifle the spirit, as too much wood heaped on a flame causes it to be smothered. In the case of Plus X, we know for certain, nothing of the kind wa, s to be feared: he never allowed himself to be diverted from his own great purpose and ideal: All for Christ! To restore all things in Christ ! There was more than this lofty singleness oi~ purpose, this un-swerving orientation of all his activity towards a cherished goal. All those who had the privilege of approaching him and dealing with him were deeply impressed by the character of holiness that radiated from him and was reflected in his manner, speech, and every action. Baron yon Pastor says of him: "He was one of those chosen few men whose personality is irresistible. Everyone was moved by his Simplicity and his angelic kindness. Yet it was something more that carried him into all hearts, and that 'something' is best defined by saying that all who were ever admitted to his presence had a deep conviction of being face to face with a saint--and the more one knows about him the strc~nger this conviction becomes." It was this conviction that led the Cardinals of the Roman Curia as far back as February 1923 to petition that the cause of his beati-fication and canonization be introduced, Their fond hope has be-come a glorious reality. Pope Plus X was solemnly beatified on June 3, 1'951--50,000 pilgrims crowding St. Peter's to venerate him and to invoke his blessing. But long before the authoritative decree was read out, the popular voice had anticipated the official pronouncement. People had not the slightest doubt about the re-sult of the process, more than 200 witnesses testifying to his heroic virtue. What they prayed for during the years that intervened be-tween his death and his glorification, what they desired with all the ardor of their hearts was that the day should not be too long de-layed, that they should live to see their hopes come true. During the Holy Year it was quite a usual sight to behold groups of pil-grims kneeling on the spot over the Pontiff's tomb and reciting the prayer for his beatification. Rome has spoken. The happy event has brought jubilation to millions of souls. We share the joy of our fellow Catholics all the world over. With them we acclaim the new Beatus and recommend ourselves to his powerful intercession. But let us do more. Let us take to heart the lesson of his saintly life. Let us impress upon ou,r minds and hearts the wise directions he addressed to the Catholic world during his fruitful Pontificate, 123 J.P. LEONARD par.ticulaily those that concern us more directly in regard to our per-sonal safictification and in regard to our pastoral duties. Let us im-plore him to obtain for us an ardent love for Christ Our Lord, an unflagging zeal for His dear interests, a sincere devotion to the Holy EuCharist and :o Mary Immaculate, and, last not least, a loyal at-tachment to the Vicar of Christ on earth, an active interest in the Church's welfare, a self-sacrificing gift of ourselves to souls in the exercise of our calling. Blessed Pius, p?ay for us. Amen. Blessed Pius X--Some Da'l'es 1835:Giuseppe Sarto born of poor parents at Riese, in the territory of Venice. 1858: Ordained a priest.--Parish ministry. 1875: Canon of Treviso, rector of the seminary. - 1884: Bishop of Mantua. 1893: Cardinal and Patriarch of Venice. 1903 : August 4, Elected Pope. Oct. 4, Encycl, E supremi: restoration of all things in Christ. Nov. 22, Motu proprio on Sacred Music. 1904: March 19, Commission for the codification of canon law. 1905: April 15, Encycl. Acerbo nimis: teaching of Christian Doctrine. 3une 1 !, Encycl. II fermo proposito: 'Catholic Action.' Dec. 20, Decree Sacra Tridentina &.lrmdus: daily Communion. 1907: Sept. 8, Epcyd. Pascendi: against Modernism. 1908: 3une 29, Constit. 8apienti consilio: reorganization of the Curia. Aug. 4, Exhortatio ad Clerum Catbolicum. Haerent anlmo. 1910: Aug. 8, Decree Quam sinqulari: Communion of children. 1911 :.Nov. 1, Constit. Dit~ino aOtcttu: new disposition of the psalter in the.,brevi-ary. 1913: Oct. 23, Motu proprio Abhinc duos annos: reform of the breviary. 1914: Aug. 20, Death of Plus X. ' 1951: June 3, Beatification. 1954: May 29, date scheduled for canonization. (Even this brief list of documents makes one realize how deep an influence Plus X has had on almost every aspect of the life of the Church.) OUR CONTRIBUTORS MOST REVEREND J. [3. LEONARD i:; Archbishop of Madurai, India. JOSEPH F. GALLEN is professor of canon law at Woodstock College, Woodstock, Mary-land. JOSEPH P. FISHER is master of novices at St. Stanislaus Seminary, Floris-sant, Missouri. ADAM C. ELLIS and FRANCIS N. KORTH are members of our editorial board and professors of canon law at St. Mary's College, St. Mary's, Kansas. 124 Pray Reasonably Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. ALL will agree that prayer is supremely,necessary in the religiou.s life; all will admit also that the necessity in modern times is an intensification, not a minimizing of prayer. The same agreement should extend to the principles t.hat the amount of pre-scribed prayer should not be. impracticable or even impossible, that it should harmonize and not conflict with work, that quality, quan-tity, and preference should be based on the purpose of the religious life, self-sanctification and the sanctification of others, and that pro-longed prescribed prayer does not necessarily produce a prayerful re-ligious. The following pages are ~n examinfition of the practicable amount and quality of prayer in lay religious congregations of ac-tive purpose. ~Attention is directed principally to the excess and ex-ternal defects of prayer. All will not agree with every opinion here expressed, but the purpose of the article will be attained if it leads to a more common recognition and practical study of a very im- 'portant problem) l, Hour o/: ddt~g. This should be such as to give sufficient sleep. It should not be so early that it is excessively difficult in itself and causes the burden of too long a day. An efficient hour of rising also depends on the climate. It is my opinion that the hour of rising for religious of active purpose in the United States should not be earlier than five-thirty. This applies also and especially to religious engaged in l~ospital and institutional work. Some now rise ~it five o'clock and even somewhat before five. The early hour is frequently caused by an unthinking tenacity to what~has been done in the past, to the equally unjustifiable principle of making the horarium exactly the same in all countries in which the institute has houses, and, I believe, especially and more commonly to the excessive number and duration of the religious exercises. The Holy See in its practice in approving constitutions has stated more than once that the religious exercises should not be multiplied excessively. Habitual physical exhaustion is not conducive to a life of pray-er. Some other pertinent facts that are worthy of practical reflec-tion under this same heading are: the lack of a weekly holiday and 1Please see our observation~ relative to "Adaptation and Pra}'er," p. 138.--ED. 125 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Retyieu~ [or Religiou~ of a summer vacation, excessive occupations during the Christmas and Easter vacations and during the summer, the burdening of days free of class with too many added spiritual duties, and overwork in general. 2. Mornin9 pra~ters. Neither the Code of Canon Law nor the prac-tice of the Holy See contains any prescription on morning prayers for religious. The constitutions of lay congregations usually en-join morning prayers in common. An enactment that all the mem-bers of the co.mmunity must be present in the chapel for vocal prayer five minutes before the beginning of meditation is reasonable and helpful. No objection can be made to the usual practice of saying these prayers in common. There would also be no imp.erfection in a practice of saying them privately. The excess in vocal prayer in many institutes begins with the morning prayers. I find it difficult to admit as reasonable any duration of these prayers beyond five minutes. This opinion seems to be evident with regard to those in-stitutes that prescribe the daily recitation in private and especially in choir of the'Little Office of the Blessed Virgin Mary or any equiva-lent amount of vocal prayer. Very many lay congregations are in this category. The repetition of the same prayers, for example, Our Fathers and Hail Marys repeated many times for various ahd, perhaps, almost endless intentions, is something that should be avoided as the matter of common vocal prayer. Such practices tend to make prayer monotonous, mechanical, and formalistic. An ex-ample of the lack of balance of vocal with mental prayer would be a usage of twenty or twenty-five minutes of ordinary morning prayers and a half-hour of meditation. I believe that the proper balance here would be five minutes of morning prayer and forty-five minutes of meditation and that no other meditation should be obligatory for that day. 3. Meditation. Here, unfortunately, is the greatest weakness in the prayer of very many individual religious and even of entire in-stitutes. Many do not in fact evaluate m~ntal prayer as the most important prayer for the gefieral and special purpose of the religiou~ life, personal sanctification and the sanctification of others. Canon 595 commands religious superiors to take care that their subjects make a daily meditation but it does not define the duration ~of the meditation. It may be argued that the practice of the Holy See as stated in 1901 favors an hour of meditation, half of which may be made in the afternoon. It' is also recognized that the Holy See con- 126 May, 1954 PRAY REASONABLY siders meditation as one of the most important daily exercises and that dispensations should be granted only very rarely and for very serious reasons. The Sacred Congregation of Religious now con-stantly approves constitutions that demand only a half-hour of meditation. A few congregations have an hour in the morning and a half-hour in the afternoon. I presume that most authorities would incline to a daily medi-tation of an hour. However, such practical facts as a seven-hour day in school, a twelve-hour day and perhaps a seven-day week in a hos-pital or institution, and the amount of prescribed vocal prayer can-not be ignor.ed. I believe that the practical and proportionate amount of mental prayer is forty-five minutes, unless the institute prescribes the Little Office or a similar amount of vocal prayer. In this case a, half-hour of meditation seems to be the only practical norm. A half-hour is the absolute minimum, and no other exer-cises, such as morning prayers, should be permitted to detract from this amount. This is not the time to adduce many arguments and authorities to prove the necessity and value of mental prayer for the religious life. It will suffice to quote the present Roman Pontiff. His words in the apostolic exhortation Menti Nostrae are concerned directly with priestly sanctity but they apply with even greater force t6 the religious life, since its .obligation is that of striving for complete evangelical perfection: "Hence We feel Ourselves under serious ob-ligation to exhort you, in a special manner to the practice of daily meditation, which the Code of Canon Law also recommends to all clerics. Just as by this daily meditation zeal for priestly perfection is strengthened and re-enkindled, so also from neglect of this p.rac-rice arises that disgust with spiritual things whereby piety grows cool and languishes, and whereby not only is each one's pursuit of sanctity broken off or slowed down, but the activities of the sacred ministry likewise suffer no small harm. Wherefore, in all truth We assert that the special efficacy attached to meditation cannot be sup-plied by any other means and, consequently, that nothing else can replace the practice of daily meditation." Meditation discloses another general defect in prayer. One of the difficulties in meditation is the insistence on a common book of pre-paration or points, which are read in common to all. This practice is only one manifestation of the false general principle that all prayer must be in common. The standard proof advanced is that Our Lord is present wherever two or three are gathered together in 127 JOSEPH F. GALLEN His name. It can be retorted that the soul of every individual in the state of grace is the temple of the Holy Ghost. The plan of prayer in any religious institute should leave sufficient time and opportunity for individual 'prayer, for the individual to follow the inspiration df the Holy Ghost, and for the satisfaction of individual desires in prayer. The same meditation book and the same spiritual reading book do ,not suit nor al3peal to all. The individual should be per-mitted here to ~hoose his own book. He shou!d also be permitted to make his spiritual reading and to say the rosary in private and at the times, he finds most convenient. The Holy See has approved con-stitutions that explicitly permit the individual preparation of the meditation and spiritual reading and the rosary in private. Another manifestation of excessive uniformity i'n, prayer is in the po~sition during meditation. In many lay congregations, if not practically all, it is the custom for all to sit down .always for the en-tire meditation, except for a few minutes at the end. This is a very practical means of attaining a sluggish meditation. The principle of evident common sense is that the individual should take the posi-tion that he finds most conducive to prayer at t~h$ moment. 4. Mass. No one will question that this is the supreme act of the day. The recollection of the sacred or great silence, morning pray-ers, and the meditation should have prepared the religious for Mass. It is to be presu.med that all know how to assist profitably at Mass and are conscious of the necessity and value of thanksgiving 'filter Communion. I do not think it necessary to delay on daily Mass and Communion but I am convinced that it is imperative to draw attention to the very universal cult of.thd "second Mass." Religious who have only a half-hour of morning meditation usually recite the Little Office for twenty or twenty-five minutes be[ fore Mass. At the end of the thanksgiving they will thus. have spent an average of an hour and forty or forty-five minutes in con-tinuous prayer while .still fasting. In~ a few institutes this time reaches two hours. Every principle of common sense says that this is enough prayer for the early morning. There should be no fer-vent stampede to the chapel or even outside the house for a second Mass. "But the Eucharist is the center of our lives!" Even with regard to the most h~ly things it is a clear postulate ~f God's law that our conduct should be reasonable. There has been enough prayer thus far; there will be too much prayer during the regt of the day. Now is the time for other things, especially for a reasonable, Ma~l, 1954 PRAY REASONABLY if brief, period of free time and of relaxation of body.and mind, for work and preparation for class. We can reverence the Eucharist reasonably by assisting at one Mass as perfectly as possible. It is at least interesting to note how many institu'~es allow only thirty or thirty-five minutes for the community .Mass inclusive of thanks-giving, and yet a second Mass in their chapels always commands a very large attendance. Why not give the proper time of forty ,or forty~five minutes to the community Mass? This custom of attendance at a ~econd Mass suggests at least to my mind similar practices and a very important and basic question. Some institutes have an astonishing number of novenas during the year. There is a pronounced susceptibility to anythin~ bearing the name of litany. The mention of sufficiently rare practices of devo-tion is not infrequent. No month or day that offers an opportun-ity for special devotions in common is passed over. Visits to the Blessed Sacrament are distinguished by prescribed xCocal prayers and frequently enough by the repetitign of the same vocal prayers. The market for extraordinary and even unreasonable practices ;of piety is notably wide. There should be some practices of devotion in the lives of all religious, but I think it is legitimate to a'sk v~hett~er prac-tices of devotio'n have not engrossed and smothered the s~iritual liv'es o~ too many, religious, whether devotionalism has not supplanted the prayer of sanctity, mental prayer. Have we too many pious and devout men arid women rather than saintly religious? many practices of piety but few really interior and deeply prayerful religious? long prayers but too little mortification? many hours in the chapel but relatively little desire for detachment and self-conquest? 5. Little O~ce of the Blessed Virgir~ Mar~. The recitation of the Little Office in choir or privately is not commanded by the Code 9f Canon Law nor by the practice of the Holy See in approving con-stitution~. There are lay congregations that recite no office; but the Little Office is more usually prescribed in such institute~. The Holy See in 1901 commended, generally speaking, the choral recitation of at least a part of'the Little Office to these congregations. Constitu-tions enjoining only the private recitation of the office are relatively few. The amount and extent of the choral recitation prescribed in other institutes is sufficiently varied. In'some congregations the whole o.ffice is recited daily in choir in all the houses; in others this same obligation extends only to the mother housh, while houses en-gaged in the external works of the institute recite the entire office in 129 ' , JOSEPH F. GALLEN Reoieu) for Religious choir only on Sundays, holydays, and other vacation days; finally, some institutes demand that only a part of the office be recited daily in choir. The Little Office in lay congregations is a laudable approxima-tion to the public prayer of the Church. The widespread efforts to make the choral recitation more correct, prayerful, and edifying are equally praiseworthy. However, our present question is primarily the practicability of the prayer assigned in lay cbngregations. The choral recitation of the entire Little Office appears to take an hour and ten minutes. Considering the crowded and burdensome day of such institutes, I think this is entirely too much. In my judg-ment no more than a half-hour daily should be given to the choral recitation. Furthermore, if an institute imposes the Little Office in choir or privately, I do not believe that any other vocal prayers should be prescribed daily, especially in common, except the rosary and the vocal prayers of morning and evening visit. The quantity of religious exercises assigned to any period.of the day should not be overwhelming. We can accept as a maxim that a very good way of obtaining little prayer is to assign too much pray-er. For example, is it reasonable to impose the burden of a solid hour and a ball or two hours of spiritual duties in the afternoon and after a seven-hour day in class? Is it likely that the time ac-tually given to prayer will be proportionate to the time assigned to prayer? Does such a usage make reasonable allowance for'physical fatigue, necessary work, hospital or institutional schedules, prepa'- tion for class, and advance in knowledge? Religious should also be allowed the satisfaction of completion in prayer; they should not be subjected to the somewhat nagging tendency of having prayers constantly tacked on. Why should a long period of ordinary vocal prayers be added to the chorhl recita.- tion of the office? Why must several Our Fathers and Hail Marys, litanies, and acts of faith, hope, and charity be always tacked on to the office? , 6. Examen of conscience. Canons 592 and 125 oblige religious su-periors to take care that subjects make at least one daily examina-tion of conscience. The Code does not impose any determined method, frequency, or duration. Some congregations make the examen only once a day. The more usual frequency is twice, at noon and at night. The duration also varies, and five, seven, ten, and fifteen mintifes are found in constitutions approved by the Holy See. A general and particular examen twice daily of seven minutes 130 Mag, 1954 PRAY REASONABLY appears to me to be the reasonable and proportionate norm. Constitutions of lay congregations that prescribe the particular examen more commonly state that the particular examen is to be made at noon, the general at night. This has always seemed to me to be a strange practice. There is no doubt that the general examen may be separated from the particular and that the general may be confined to the evening, although the preferable practice for religious is to make both together. The strangeness is found in making the particular only at noon. Is it the intention to strive for the con-quest of a particular defect or the acquisition of a particular virtue for only half the day? If not, isn't it rather unnatural to examine oneself on this matter from noon to noon? 7. Spiritual reading. The Code of Canon Law contains no pre-scription on this matter, but the practice ~f the Holy See demands that an appropriate amount of time be given daily to spiritual reading. The varying times found in constitutions are thirty, twenty, and fifteen minutes. I believe that twenty minutes is the practical and proportionate amount. It can be reasonably suspected that the value of spiritual reading as an aid and remote preparation for mental prayer has not been too universally realized. The book and manner of reading should habitually be reflective and prayerful rather than merely informa-tional. The one book read in common for all, usually in the chapel, is the very common practice. I do not think that this practice is justi-fiable. As stated above, each professed religious should be permitted to choose his own book and to make the reading at the time that he individually finds most convenient. It is presumed that the book will be profitable and that the religious will follow any direction of competent authority. It is understandable that all should assemble for some of the religious exercises, for example, morning visit, medi-tation, examen, preparation for meditation, and night visit. Other-wise it can be reasonably feared that the faithful performance of these exercises will be too deficient. The religious necessarily as-semble for Mass and the choral recitation of the office. Not only the crowded and laborious day but also the fact that the religious should be trained in and given an opportunity to exercise individual re-sponsibility urge the conclusiqn that such duties as spiritual readil~g and the rosary should be in private and at the times chosen by the individual religious. 131 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Reuietu for Religfo,,~ Some institutes have an exercise called lecture. This apparently means an assembly in which~ the superior reads a chapter or two of the constitutions or something from another spiritual book and gives any general corrections or makes any announcements that he or she thinks necessary or opportune. This exercise is usually prescribed almost daily or at least several times a week. I do not. see the ne-cessity or value of such an exercise in the crowded day of the reli-gious we are discussing. Private spiritual reading will be rfiore effi-cacious. If desired, the chapter of two of the constitutions could be read more practically in the refectory at one or two meals of each week. I find it difficult to conceive of a religious community so gen-erally errant that the superior must have the opportunity of giving a common correction sever, al times a week. Few announcements in a religious community are of such a private nature that they cannot be posted on a notice' board or, if private, cannot be communicated in other ways than by a special assembly. I see no reason why it should be necessary to give the superior such an opportunity more than twice a month at the very most. Some constitutions explicitly state the very reasonable interpre-tation that a,n unusual religious exercise, such as an instruction, conference, Benediction, Holy Hour, or chapter of faults, dispenses from the obligatory daily spiritual reading. 8. Rosary. Here also canons 592 and 125 apply and oblige supe-riors to take care that their subjects say the rosary daily. Five decades are sufficient. 9. Visits to the Blessed Sacrament and similar matters. The same canons oblige superiors to take care that their subjects visit the Bles-sed Sacrament daily. Visits that total fifteen minutes a day are cer-tainly sufficient as far as canon law is concerned, anh there is no doubt that the prescribed visits in lay congregations far exceed this amount. The obligatory visits in common should not be multipiied ex-cessively. I see no reason why these should not be confined to the mo~ning and night visits and to visits after each meal. The dura-tion should not be too prolonged. Five minutes should suffice for these visits. They should~not be put at a time that causes a conflict with or inconvenience to work. For exdmple, it is not reasonable to prescribe a visit at an hour when practically all the religious must be at work. Visits as found in lay congregations manifest the overemphasis 132 Ma~l, 19,54 PRAY REASONABLY on vocal prayer in common, particularly of the repetition of the same prayers. The usual repetition is that of Our Fathers and Hail Marys for a multiplicity of intentions. The obvio.us first recom-mendation is that the intentions for which such prayers are being offered should be most thoroughly examined. It is certain that some of these constit'ute the unreasonable perpetuation of the individual fervor of superiors of the past. The intentions should be restricted to those that can be classed as necessary or of unusual and common value. I see no reason why the prayers for most of these intentions should be in common. Why would it not suffice to post~or to read in the refectory once a month all the prescribed intentions and the prayers to be said by all privately for each intention? A notice could be similarly posted or read for any prayers for occasional spe-cial intentions. Prayer in common can be and is exaggerated in these institutes. We are to remember that God is the Heavenly Father of each one of us. A~ religious should be granted some time alone with his Father. Under this heading we must add the prin-ciple contained in many constitutions approved by the Holy See: no local superior should be allowed to add in any way to the pre-scribed religious exercises withoht the permission of"a higher~ supe-rior. This ,permission should be granted 6nly rarely, fqr an im-portant matter, and temporarily. A Holy Hour in common is imposed weekly in some institutes. Wouldn't it be more reasonable to confine this to the eve of First Friday? The months of March, May, June, October, and Novem-ber and the season of Lent ar. frequently the occasion of obligatory special devotions in common. The prudence of imposing common devotions during all of these times can be questioned. The duration of such devotions .should not ordinarily exceed five minutes. Pro-longed devotions of thi~ type can raise the prescribed daily religious exercises to a most formidable and even impossible total and can easily weary rather than strengthen the spirit of prayer. In institutes that do not have the Little Office the common, vocal prayers apparently intended as a substitute are sometimes excessive. I do not think that the time assigned for such prayers added to that given to meditation should total more than an hour and twenty minutes. The same general type of excess is verified in'the addition of a considerable amount 6f other vocal prayer to the Little Office. Private visits are to be encouraged, as is the Way of the Cross in private. Most of these visits should be very brief, but it is a good 133 o ,JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious practice to make one visit a day that is rather prolonged, i.e., aboiat ten 6r fifteen minutes. A religious who never makes a private visit has to be classed as quite deficient, but the emphasis on individual visits and time before the Blessed Sacrament can also be exaggerated. The encomium that a religious spends all his time before the Blessed Sacrament can be questioned. It is impossible in a laborious life. We have been implying thus far that the religious exercises cannot be prescribed without careful consideration of the long and heavy labors in the works of the institute. Another consideration is equally important. The day of the religious must permit proper ¯ prepaiation for class and other work and some time also for advance study in his field. It is a certain fact that this time is completely insufficient in practically all lay congregations. Especiall';- the higher fields of knowledge require protracted periods of study and cannot be mastered or prepared for class presentation by intellectual snacks of five minutes here and there. 10. Preparation for meditation. Eight minutes should suffice for this exercise. Individual preparation will also eliminate the dry serving of points at ten-minute intervals during the meditation. This practice h~s certainly contributed to the dehydrated and dessi-cated complexion of the mental prayer of many religious. 1 1. Silence, cloister, and l~orarium. In the religious life the sacred or ,great silence lasts from the time of a definite exercise in the evening until an appointed time in the morning. This silence demands that no one shall speak except for a serious reason and then as briefly as possible and in a low voice. The work of the institute is something of an obstacle to silence throughout the day, but as far as possible ordinary religious silence is to be observed during the day; i.e., in the house and outside of recreation religious talk only of what is necessary, useful, or demanded by courtesy. The purpose of reli-gious silence is a recollected and prayerful life. One of the purposes of cloister is to exclude unnecessary distractions and thus also to help to a life of recollection and prayer. Silence and cloister tend to recollection partially by effecting a quiet, calm, and peaceful,tenor of life. We canreasonably doubt that the horarium in lay congre-gations tends to the same effect. Isn't the daily life of many such religious a scurrying, headlong, excited, and feverish rush from duty to duty? The point I wish to make is that such a pace is an evident obstacle to a recollected and prayerful life. The excited religious is not a prayerful religious. I realize that there are difficulties, espe- 134 Mag, 1 ~ 5 4 PRAY REASONABLY cially that of overwork, in adjusting the horarium, but some ad-justment is possible. The horarium must be less minute, less insis-tent on everything in common; there must be more breaks, more free time, more attention to rest and less to keeping the religious busy; more easing of the tension; more emphasis on sincere interior prayer than on long prayers. 12. Chapter o1: faults. This is not mentioned in the Code of Canon Law nor is it of obligation from the practice of the Holy See. How-ever, the constitutions of lay congregations usually prescribe the chapter of faults. The norm of frequency stated by the Holy See in 1901 for congregations that had the chapter was that it should not be prescribed more frequently than once a week nor less than once a month. As actually found in constitutions, the greater number of institutes have it once a month, others every two weeks or weekly. A few institutes have the ch~ipter very rarely. In one congregation approved by the Holy See the chapter is held only four times a year. I believe that the proportionate frequency would be no more than once a month at the very most. In practice the chapter is an assembly in which the religious ac-cuse themselves of external violations of religious discipline. The superior assigns a penance after the accusation and in some institutes adds a counsel, admonition, or correction. The chapter is an exer~ cise that can readily become mechanical. It has been praised as very useful by some canonical authors, but I incline to an emphasis and insistence that the superior should be more of a spiritual guiding force for the community and the individual rather than an executive or a mere dispenser of permissions and that he shouId have the courage to give individual an~l private correction when this is neces-sary or advisable. 13. Annual retreat. Canon 5'95 commands religious superiors to take care that their subjects make an annual retreat. The Code does not determine the method, duration, nor manner, in common or in private, of the annual retreat. The duration ordinarily found in constitutions is eig]~t or six days. A very few institutes have a duration of seven or five days. Eight full days constitute the pref-erable duration. 'Many suggestions could be given for making retreats more profitable, but I wish to confine myself to a matter that is abso-, lutely fundamental. The basic reason why retreats to many reli-gious institutes are not producing a more marked profit is that very 135 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious few of their religious ever really make a retreat. The usual practice in' an Ignatian "retreat to religious in the United States is that, the director, in addition to a practical conference, gives the preparation for three meditations, but in inang institutes the retreatants make only one meditation and that o.nly for the time of their ordinary morning meditation. What an unreasonable~ .contradiction! The primary instrument of~a retreat is meditation, and yet almost no one will meditate! To give preparations for meditations that have no possibility Of existence! To be faced by so many religious who are completely unconscious of the fact that they should meditate! The meditation that tells the director all is that after breakfast on the first day, If, as soon as he has finished giving the preparation, he sees all the religious leaving swiftly with a sense of completion, he knows that it is the same old story, a retreat th'at is not a retreat, a retreat wihout the essence of a retreat, spiritual exercises dominated by.passivity. Isn't this very wide practice a clear indication that mental prayer has lost its rightful place in the life of many religious institutes? It is also a practice that should not be permitted to con-tinue, The retreatants should make each meditation for at least forty-five minutes and should spend ten minutes in reflection after each meditation.- Any other religious exercises of the communl,ty that c6nflict with the time or energy demanded by the retreat should be abbreviated or omitted. In a few institutes the director is asked, after giving the prepara-tion for the morning meditation the previous evening, to repeat this preparation or even to make the meditation with the community the next morning.' The reason often given fdr the request is that this is what is done during the year, the points for the morning rfieditation are read the night before and also in the morning before the meditation. It is very difficult to be patient with such a request. The memories of nb religious community are so generally de, ficient as to justify this' request, and it is to be held as a firm pres~mption of the law of the Church and a clear principle of common sense that mental prayer is within the power of all religious. 14. Montblg recollection. The constitutions almost universally ' prescribe a day of monthly recollection. This exercise'is not com-manded by canon law, but Pius XI earnestly urged the practice even to lay people to conserve the spiritual profit of the retreat and also as an,efficacious spiritual means in itself. Inasmuch as the day of recollection participates of the nature of a retreat, mental rather than 136, May, 1954 NEWS AND VIEWS vocal prayer should be favored in any added exercise. Many consti-tutions propose or emphasize this practice as a day of preparation for death. Since the aspect Of death is apt in fact to give the practice a completely negative character'of self-examination and. to minimize that of progress, I would have preferred its omission. 15. Tridua. Some congregations prescribe a triduum, in fact, a full three-day retreat, at the close of the year. The practice is in itself commendable, but I doubt that it permits the r.eligious to have the rest during the Christmas vacation that their strenuous a~hd over-burdened life demands. I prefer the practice in use in a few insti-tutes of a day of recollection, really a day of retreat, conducted by a priest on the last day of the year. Plus X (~ur article, "The Pontificate ot~ Pius X," is reprinted with per-mission from The Clergv Monthlv (August, 1951), a periodical edited by the 3esuit Fathers at St. Mary's Theological College, Kurseong, India, and published by the Catholic Press, Ranchi, B.N.Ry, India. The summary of dates following the article is also taken from The Cterg~l Montfilv. The author of the article, the Most Reverend 3. P. Leonard, S.,I., is now the Archbishop of Madurai. The article is reprinted with only a few very slight changes. It seems certain as we go to press that the Pope will proceed with the canonization of Blessed Pius X on ,May 29. Archbishop Leonard's article will make very appropriate reading for the occa-sion; and one more change--in a sense, not slight--will be in order: "'Saint Pius, pr,ay for us. Amen." Adaptation and'Prayer Some years ago (March, 1949) we published an article by Father d. Creusen, S.d., on "Adaptation." The article was pub-lished before the Congress on the States of Perfection iva~ held in Rome (September, 1950), but the general lines of the article were in perfect accord with the proceedings and conclusions of the Con- ~ress. We now have another excellent article on adaptation, based 137 NEWS AND VIEWS Review [or Religious on the proceedings of the Congress, that will be published in "our July number. , In our present number, Father Joseph Gallen, S.J., considers an aspect of adaptation that many religious will consider "touchy." Nevertheless, if prayer is to be what it should be in the li.ves of re-ligious, serious consideration must be given to the points raised by Father Gallen, especially to all customs that concern the saying of vocal prayers in dommon and to the multiplication of such prayers. As Father Gallen says, not everyone will agree with him on all his suggestions; but it seems to us that every thoughtful reader-- whether agreeing with him or not--must realize that he himself has given much thought to the problems. We would welcome frank discussions of the questions he raises and of the solutions he offers. Silver Jubilee Father Creusen's article on adaptation, referred to above, ap-peared originally in Revue des communautds religleuses, XVIII, 97. With Father 1~. Jombart, S.J., Father Creusen began the Revue des co~rnunautds religieuses in 1925. Publication was interrupted during most of World War II; hence Volume 25 was not completed till the end of 1953. On the occasion of this silver jubilee of publication, Father Creusen received a congratulatory letter from Monsignor Montini, the Pro-Secretary of State, who wrote in the name of the Holy Father. The Revue was praised for the high quality of its articles, for the utility of the articles and documents it publishes, and in general for its beneficial influence on religious and clergy. The Holy See's praise of the Revue has a special meaning for us because we are trying to do in the United States what Father Creusen and his associates have done and are doing among French-speaking religious. Eagerly we add our own small praise to the congratulations of the Holy See. Congress in Canada By decree of the Sacred Congregation of Religious there will be a national congress of all the religious institutes of Canada, in Montreal, July 26-30. Tile Congress will be similar to that held at the University of Notre Dame in 1952. Rev. Joseph Rous-seau, O.M.I., Procurator General of the Oblates of Mary Immacu-late and Consultor to the Sacred Congregation of Religious, has been appointed General Secretary of the Congress and of its Execu-tive Council. Associate Secretaries are Rev. Andf~ Guay, O.M.I., 1138 , Mag, 1954 NEWS AND VIEWS Director of the Catholic Centre of the University of Ottawa, and Rev. Edward Sheridan, S.2., Prefect of Studies of the Jesuit Semi-nary in Toronto. In reality, four distinct congresses will be held: of French-speaking religious men, of French-speaking religious women, of English-speaking religious men, and of English-speaking religious women. Only the inaugural and concluding sessions will bring the four groups together. The Congress will be held at the Holy Cross College of S. Laurent and the adjoining women's colle, ge of Ste. Croix, in a northern suburb of Montreal. The spacious facilities of these two adjoining institutions, with their many classrooms and lecture halls and fine collegiate church, ~iIl provide ample accommodation for the sectional session halls, committee rooms, etc. The COngress will meet for four full days. On each of the four days, four short papers, each of some twenty minutes length, will be read in each section. The delegates willhave summaries of these papers by the opening of the Congress and a more complete and detailed development of each paper will appear in the Acta 8f the Congress. On the conclusion of the fourth paper, the section (of men or women, English-speaking or French-speaking) will break up into small committees to discuss the paper in greater detail and in its practical applications, according to prepared questionnaires and discussion topics which will be different for different committees. In the afternoon, the section will reunite for a general disc~ussion and for reports of each committee. A survey of the.findings, prob-lems, and solutions resulting from these committee sessions will be presented and will appear in the Acta. The sectional afternoon ses-sions will close with the formulation of resolutions, recommenda-tions, and petitions. A pilgrimage of all four sections to Montreal's famous St. Jo-seph's Shrine on Mount Royal, is planned for the evening of the last day of the Congress. Certain members of each institute will attend the Congress ex officio, namely, major superiors, masters and mistresses of novices, superiors of scholasticates. Others will attend as the appointed delegates of their institutes, in numbers proportionate to the num-bers of the institutes represented. It is expected that the Congress will unite a total of some fourteen hundred religious--eight hun- 139 NEWS AND VIEWS Review t~or Religious dred sisters and six huiadred priests and brothers--from all the in-stitutes of Canada. The program of papers, which is substantially the same for all sections, is: First day: (1) Tending to Perfection in Charity; (2) Religious Obedience; (3) Religious Poverty; (4) Perfect Chas-tity. Second Day: (1) Liturgical Prayer; (2) Prayer; (3) The Sacrament of Penance; (4). Religious Observance. Third day: (1) Judging a Vocation; (2) Methods of Recruiting; (3) The Personnel Required for Forming Religious; (4) Elements in the Formation of Young Religious. Fourth day: (1) Perfection in Charity and the Apostolate; (2) The Sanctifying Value~ of the Various Works of the Apostolate; (3) Diversity of the Apostolate and the Need for Collaboration; (4) Problems of the Apost61ate. Summer Sessions?. Marquette University will offer a course restricted to sisters on Marriage Guidance for Teachers. Among (;ther things, the course is designed to prepare the sisters (i) to present the matter of marriage in such a way as to enable the students to make a rational choice of vocation in life, and (2) to convey an attitude toward sex and mar-riage which will be a stabilizing factor in and out of marriage. Fa-ther Richard Arnold, S.J., will conducl~ the course. Marquette will also continue the courses in theology on the graduate level, de-signed especially for religious brothers and sisters. This graduate program leads to a degree of Master of Arts, with a major in the-ology. For further information write to:' The Director, Summer Session, Marquette University, Milwaukee 3, Wisconsin. Between June 14 and August '3 each Sunday afternoon a con-ference will be given by members of the Creighton University Sum-mer S,chool Staff on the religious virtues. Sister Mary Digna, O.S.B., w'ill conduct a week-end institute on the scientific factor in selecting candidates for religious life. Dr. Leo Kennedy will conduct an in-stitute on guidance and vocational counseling. Sister M. Casimir, O.P., is arranging an institute on music for the schools. Dr. Robert Nossen is director of the institute on the teaching of high school English. Sister M. Muriel, S.H.M., will teach courses in remedial reading and will likewise direct an institute in. that field. Another workshoi9 wll be "conducted in story-telling, book selection, and extra-curricular reading for elementary school children. Nine gradu-ate or under-graduate credits may be earned during the eight-week session. Rev. Francis Korth, S.J., will have a 3-hour course on 140 Mag, 1954 NEWS AND VIEWS moral guidance, and Rev. Leo Cbressel, S.d., will continue his theo-logical cycle course with "special questions in dogmatic theology." Rev. Vincent L. Decker, S.d., will teach fundamental theology, and Rev. Philip Derrig, S.J., will teach Christian iworship. Please direct inquirie~ and requests for Summer School catalogues to: Dean Wil-liam F. Kelley, S.3., Director of the Summer Session, Creighton Universit~r, Omaha 2, Nebraska. The-Rev. duniper Carol, O.F.M., formerpresident of the Ma-riological Society of America and now its secret~iry, will offer a series of lectures in Mari01ogy at St. Bonaventure University, Olean, N. Y., tl~is summer. The course will begin duly 3 and con-tinue through the first week in August. Father Carol is a well-l~ nown Franciscan theologian of Our Blessed Lady in the United States. He has written many amcles and books on Marian docmne, especially the doctrine of Our Lady as Co-Redemptrix. Other courses this summer include dogma, moral, church history, canon law for religious, and catechetics. The course at St. Bonaventure leads to a Master's degree or a certificate in theology. Ins÷itu~e of Spldtuali~y 849 sisters, representing 159 religious communities, attended .the Institute of Spirituality at the University of Notre Dame last summer. This institute, which is for superiors and mistresses of novices, will be given at Notre Dame again this summer, August 4-10. , The morning-lectures Will be given b.y the Reverend Paul Philippe, O.P.; the Reverend Gerald Kelly, S.J.; and the R~verend Charles Corcoran, C.S.C. Father Philippe's lectures are entitled, "The Role of the Holy Spirit in Counseling'i'; Fa,ther Kelly's, "Psychologichl Problems in Religious Life"; and Father Corcoran's, "The Vow of Obedience," The evening lectures will be given by the Reverend A.PI~,O.P.; the Reverend Albert J. Riesner, C.SS.R.; and the Reverend Gabriel Diefenbach, O.F.M.Cap. Father Pl~'s lectures are entitled, "The Adaptation of the Religious Life to Actual Conditions"; Father Riesner's, "Canon Law for Religious--The Vow of Poverty"; and Father Diefenbach's, "The Life of Prayer." ~ "This important institute is'one of the tangible effects of the Congress of Religious, held at Notre Dame in 1951. For further information write to: The Reverend A. Leonard Collins, C.S.C., Department of Religion, University of Notre Dame, Notre Dame, Indiana. 141 N :ure Joseph P. Fisher, S.J. IHAVE OFTEN wondered just how satisfactory an understand-ing of the relation between nature and grace most religious-- especially those untrained in theology~have. They certainly .have been impressed by the role of grace in the economy of salva-tion. In their reading and meditating they must often have con-sidered those clear words of Christ, "Without Me you can do nothing." They know that grace "is absolutely necessary for sal-vation, necessary for any advance in the spiritual life, necessary even for a start in it. Grace stands, therefore, before their eyes as all-important and so it should. Their knowledge of grace as far as it goes is, accordingly, quite accurate. But I wonder about their understanding of nature. While they have been reading and meditating on the marvels of divine grace, they have also, quite likely, been forming some notions about na-ture. And, of course, nature regarded as a competitor or adversary of grace is put in its place--and a very low and despicable place it is. Without distinctions being made, or at least clearly made, nature-- often used in ~i rather vague sense--is made to look very bad. 'Very many books on the spiritual life have remarks about nature that can well be typified by this statement in the Follgtoing of Christ: "'Wherefore, as nature is the more kept down and subdued, with so much greater abundance is grac.e infused" (Bk. III, Ch. 54). It is true that fi Kempis himself has the correct distinction in mind (the whole of Ch. 54 implies the distinction and there is an explicit statement in Cb. 55) but the force of an unmodified word has strange power. It is all very simple if we understand all the oppro-brium heaped on nature as being piled on corrupt, unregenerated na-ture, inasmuch as it is the source of the inordinate in human life. St. Paul says some hard things about nature, but anyone who wants to understand the sense in which he uses the word can check his meaning as set forth in Fernand Prat, The Theologg of St. Paul, Vol. II, pp. 61-62. It comes to this, that because of original sin there is left in all men a strong inc\ lination to e~;il. Understood, therefore, as the source of sin, nature can be despised and set at naught as much as one likes, but there is mucl~ good in nature which must be respected. 142 Ma~t, 1954 NATURE AND GRACE It may come as a surprise to some that it is a defined truth that by the light of the natural intellect man can know considerable truth about God and, it follows, much truth about many things: "If anyone shall say that the one true God, our Creator and Lord, cannot be certainly known by the natural light of human reason ~hrough created things, let him be anathema" (Vatican Council, Sess. III, de revel., can. 1). And it is certain that by the strerigtb of the natural will man can do considerable .good--not, however, salutary as far as supernatural salvation is concerned. It is no doubt because of these truths that the Baltimore Catechism has introduced the following change into the new edition: "The chief punishments of Adam which we inherit through original sin are: death, suffering, ignorance, and a strong inclination to sin." And the explanation of the last item runs thus: "Although we have a strong inclination to evil as a result of original sin, our nature is not evil in itself: it can perform some good actions in the natural order without the aid of grace." The old catechism had this: "Our nature was corrupted by" the sin of our first parents, which darkened our understanding, weakened our will, and left in us a strong inclination to evil." All this brings out the point that when one says "nature is bad, is to be repressed," one has to know what one means by "nature." God has never disowned, rejected the good in human nature as the Protestants would have it that He did. What, then, does it mean, "Without me you can do nothing"? It means we can do nothing of use to salvation without grace. That, of course, says a lot but it would be worse than a mistake to under-stand it in such a way as to deny the truths stated above. Actions speak louder than words. A~cordingly the example of the saints acts strongly to form a man's spiritual outlook. In the matter with which we are dealing, lives of the saints have had their effects. Many a person untrained in theology has come to the con-viction that the lives of many saints are a living proof of the state-ment that "as nature is the more kept down and subdued, with so much greater abundance is grace infused." And it is true that the saints have often, at least according to the accounts of their lives, disdained nature and its needs and, apparently, were the better for it. Many ate extremely little, slept hardly at all, undertook severe austerities, and yet carried on their work in a remarkable way. It is. certain that if an ordinary individual would do what the saints have d6ne in despite of nature in the ordinary providence of God he would pay the price. There is, therefore, a distinction that must be 143 JOSEPH P. FISHER Reuieu.~ for Religious brought in here. Ordinarily God does' not work miracles to make up for the rashness and mistakes of men. True it is that in His ex-. traordinary providence God takes care of His holy ones, and that is one reason why we say God is wonderful in His saints. A clear example of What could happen, and has happened, if the idea expressed above (that the more nature--even that which is good in nature--is contradicted and thwarted the higher grace rises) would be carried to its logical conclusion is this: the absolute cessation of all spiritual progress--at least for the time-~by insan-ity. That is a terrible thing to think of, but it is true. Whatever one thinks about the relationship of nature and grace, one cannot get around this hard fact: not a few human beings have come to the end of their growth in grace because the natural faculties of mind and will have ceased their natural functions and hence grace--which do~s no"t operate in a void '" is at a standstill. There are, of course, less extreme results brought about by a neglect of nature and We shall instance some of these later. For the time being it is enougl~ to make clear that God does not always--to say the least--work a miracle to stop or rectify the results of a man's imprudence in handling nature. God can if He so chooses suspend the effects of nature's physidal laws, but we do not ordinarily count on that. So far we have been rather negative in what we have said. What can be said positively of nature's position in regard to grace? At the outset it has to be remarked that anyone treating of the relation-ship between' nature and grace has to be careful not to fall into the errors of Pelagianism or semi-Pelagianism. In order to make clear, ,before we proceed further, the teaching of the Church i~n the mat-ter we shall summarize what has to be said. First of all, mere nature, that is, nature without the aid of grace, cannot, in strict justice, merit initial grace (.the first grace a man re] ceives on the way to sanctifying grace) nor, consequently, any of the series of subsequent graces that lead to sanctifying" grace. More-over, there is no naturally good work' by which unaided nature could acquire even so much as an equitable claim --- one not "in strict justice but as a matter of fitness or equity--to supernatural grace. Nor can nature merit supernatural grace even by natural prayer, that is, merely human prayer without the aid of God's grace. And beyond all this a man cannot move God to the bestowal of super-natural grace by any positive disposition or preparation on his part. A man, for example, might prepare wet wood for burning by soaking' it in kerosene, but there is no such positive preparation by 144 May, 1954 NATURE AND GRACE which a man can prepare nature and make a claim on God for grace. Finally, the only thing a man can do to dispose nature for grace is to prepare himself negatively by not putting any obstacles' in the way or by removing obstacles that are present. ' In the example of the wood used above it would be similar to drying the wood and hence removing the wetness that would prevent the wood from burning. It is to be noted in t~is last case that by this negative disposi-tion a man does not cause--in the strict sense--God to give him grace, but if God so wishes He freely gives it. The freedom of God in giving grace must be preserved. By reason of this freedom in the disposal of grace God can choose and often has chosen the ignorant to confound the wise and the weak to shame the strong. The power of His grace stands out the more in such instances. And yet in His ordinary providence He seems to respect nature; not that He has to, but it seems from the facts that He does. God has never rejected the good in nature. " For this reason theologians have always taught that grace does not destroy nature but builds on it, elevates it. God loves His creation and even after man sinned there was still much in the work of His hands that He loved. It is time, then, to consider some of the ways in which grace builds on nature. In the first place, does it make any difference in the spiritual life what kind of mind a man has and how he uses it? It definitely does. God can make the very stones cry out or can speak-through a jackass--as He once dld-~but ordinarily He uses instruments according to their natural capacity. Wrong thinking in the spiritual life, wrong direction, has led to harmful consequences. Hence the importance of having accurate knowledge on spiritual matters. In the second place, does strength of will make any difference in the spiritual life? Does it help to know the true psychology of the will.; how~ to bring it to action? Admittedly God could take a weak-willed man and by His grace suddenly make him strong. But again God ordinarily works according to a man's nature. Poor use of will has held back many in spiritual progress. It is imperative, then, that those ,striving for spiritual advancement know at least the chief elements in the psychology 9f the will. And, thirdly, does the spiritual life depend in any way on a person's physical health, health of organs and nerve~s? Again God could set physical health aside as He has done in the case. of many saints. But saints are saints, and while we may admire them we cannot and ought not imitate their extraordinary conduct unless 145 JOSEPH P. FISHER Reoieto [or Religious God clearly calls us that way. The health of ordinary,mortals often has more to do with what goes,in their spiritual lives than they think it has. Everybody knows how St. Theresa and St. Ig-natius insisted on this fact. There is a story which may serve to il-lustrate this truth rather vividly. It was published some year~ ago in the Reader's Digest and goes something like this. A certain man of considerable means had suffered huge losses in the great de-pression of 1929. Worry over his critical financial condition, over what the future might bring, and over 'what people might think, naturally reacted on his health. He became more and more sleep-less, lost his appetite, grew more and more nervous, and felt as if a complete physical collapse was imminent. In this crisis he thought of what many others had thought of as a way 6ut--suicide. But for the sake of his family and his own good name he did not want to make a crude job of it; go he decided to consult a psychiatrist on the best way to achieve his purpose with the least notice and oppr6- brium. When he gave his stor~ to the psychiatrist, the wise man sympa-thized with him, thought the matter over, and suggested this method of carrying out his intention. The patient was over middle age, fat, in poor condition, and no doubt not very far from a heart attack. So all he would have to do would be to eat a good supper, then go for a little walk, after a while start running, and then be-cause of his poor condition his heart would give out and people would say that he had had a heart attack. This plan sounded very fine to the patient and he resolved to try it. So that night he did as the doctor had told him. But when he started running, nothing happened, and so he kept running and puffing. Growing tired, he stopped and after some time returned home tired and sleepy. He went to bed rather early and slept like a baby. When he got up in the morning he was a little stiff but felt rather well. But he was resolved to try a little harder that evening. And so he did. He walked farther and ran harder and puffed even more. Again nothing happened. So he returned home and slept even better and ate voraciously in the morning and felt dangerously well. But he was still resolved to carry out his purpose. So he repeated the per-formance the next night, exerting himself even more,' but again nothing happened. He went to bed and again slept marvelously well. He arose in the morning and ate heartily and had a strange sense of well-being. He felt he could meet and conquer all his prob-lems. He was even eager to get at them. 146 May, 1954 NATURE AND GRACE This story, aside from the fact that it concerns an attempted suicide and has the psychiatrist pretending to condone the attempt, allows for a wholesome application because it shows how ill health may create a spiritual problem and good health may solve it. Not infrequently religious are impeded in their spiritual lives by tired-ness, headaches, nerves, and such .complaints. No doubt like'all "creatures" of God these distresses can be used to help one in the spiritual life, but they must be handled by the great virtue of pru-dence. Our Lord told us to be as wise as serpents and as simple as doves. With the help of our spiritual guides, we must learn when such things advance us and when they impede us in the great work we are doing. And we must come to some decision as to how we are to conduct ourselves in their regard. Finally, there is the question of the natural virtues. It will be sufficient for our purpose to indicate in general their importance in regard to the accompanying virtues. Without the accompanying natural habit the infused, supernatural virtue is left, so to speak, in the air. The natural virtue gives the infused virtue facility and solidity. A person, for example, who has the infused virtue of for-titude m. ay in practice act very cowardly. It is only/ when he has acquired the habit of acting bravely that the supernatural virtue will function as it should. And so with all other virtues. That is why Father Hull in his little book, The Formation of Character, says that "all virtues, even the supernatural ones, are radically and .functionally natural ones . " It may be well to add that religious ought not to fear to develop and use to the utmost the natural talents God has given them. All too often the words of Our Lord apply to religious: "The children of this world are wiser in their generation than the children of light" (Lk. 16:8). Certainly the wicked make the utmost use of the gifts they have to further their evil ends. Shall those who pro-fess to fight God's cause allow to lie dormant the precious powers .God has entrusted to them? Every religious should occasionally meditate on Our Lord's parable of the talents. If we have been ¯ given even only one, we are expected to wbrk with it and show proper increase. A good way of acting would be that suggested in the saying attributed to St. Ignatius: Work as, if all depends on you; pray as if all depends on God. The use of nature to the advantage of the supernatural in the various ways suggested above should not surprise us who realize that ,our God has lifted even matter to be an ally of grace. In our sac- 147 JOSEPH P. FISHER ramental' system, Water, bread and wine, and oil are wondrously dignified by the part they play in the bestowal of grace on men. And even apart from the sacraments it is rather amazing how the Creator has mysteriously decreed not only that "for the most part men be saved by men" but that often even material things have an important part in a man's salvation or damnation. The speed of a car, the presence of blood plasma, the right drug. at hand may give the time. required to baptize or absolve a soul in need. Even if it is not explicitly said, it is sometimes implied, that any kind of trust in nature will lead to an.attitude of self-sufficiency and pride. There. is no good reason why this should be so. Is 'not ,God the Creator of nature as well as the Author of grace? Are not His natural gifts gifts? Can we not say in regard to the goods of nature which God has bestowed on us what the Blessed Virgin said in the Magnificat: "He who is mighty has done great things for me and holy is his name." Surely a man must crush the inordinate in nature but he should be careful lest in doing so he also spoil what is good.- Since God took upon Himself our nature there has been a truly wonderful union between nature and grace. And God wishes us to respect and cherish this union. May we not elevate the thought of the poet Coleridge and apply his words to our matter: He pra~etb best, tvbo lovetb best All the'rigs both great and small; For the dear God who lovetb us, He made and lovetb all. (Rime of the Ancient Mariner 11. 614-617)., NEW RI:VIEW OF SPIRITUALITY Cbristus is tb~ title of a new review of spirituality directed by the French Fa-thers of the Society of Jisus. The first number is entirely devoted to "Christ Our Lord"--with a number of articles that are ~emarkable for'their doctrine, historical information, and modernity. The purpose of the review is not to promote the spirituality of a "school," but rather to perform a service for consecrated souls, re-gardless of the spiritual family to which they belong, by opening up a source of spirituality which our present Holy Father called one of the most efficacious for the spiritual regeneration of the world. The price of this new quarterly is 700 ft. per year in France; 900 ft. for foreign subscribers. Address: Christus, 15, rue Monsieur, Paris (7e)~ France. 148 New I:::dit:ion of :he Li :t:le Ot:t:ice Adam C. Ellis, S.J. THE Little Office of the Blessed Virgin Mary was long a favorite devotion of pious layfolk, especially in England, where there were two versions of "Mary's Hours" current as far back as the eleventh century. Today many of the laity use the Little Office as their daily prayer in honor of Mary. It is part of the rule for Dominican, Carmelite, and Augustinian Tertiaries, and Franciscan Tertiaries are exhorted, though not obliged, to say it. Many mem-ber~ of the various Sodalities of Our Lady recite the Little Office daily as a matter of devotion. This office is called "Little" to distinguish it from the "Great" or Divine Office, which is recited daily by all clerics in major orders, by many religious orders of men, and by most communities of cloistered nuns. Many religious conoregations of sisters and broth-ers established during the nineteenth century and later have adopted the Little Office as their special" form of common prayer and recite it daily in whole or in part (for instance, Vespers and Compline), .or at least on Sundays and holydays. Some who are prevented by the nature of their work from assembling together at a fixed time recite the Little Office privately. A" feature article in L'Osseroatore Romano for March 17 an-nounced the publication of a new edition in Latin and German of the Little Office of the Blessed Virgin Mary. Fortunately, we have at hand a copy "of this new version; and it seems to us that our readers might welcome some information about it. Papal Approval of New Texf The text of the new edition of the Little Office announced in L'Osseruatore Romano was prepared by Father Augustine Bea, S.J., professor at the Pontifical Biblical Institute (of which he was rector for many years) and a Consultor of the Sacred Congregation of Rites. The work was done at the request of the Teaching Sisters of the Holy Cross, a congregation of Franciscan Sisters whose mother house is,located, at Menzingen, Switzerland. It was to the mother general of these Sisters that Pope Plus XII wrote the following let-ter, which approves the new Little Office and which is printed as an introduction to the text: 149 ADAM C. ELLIS To Our beloved daughter in Christ, greetings and Apostolic Bene-diction. ,The fervent devotion of the faithful to Mary, the Most Blessed Mother of God, besides many other exercises of piety, has also in-cluded for many centuries, that practice by which the same Mother of God is especially honored, namely the Little Office of the Blessed Virgin Mary. This pious practice has increased in recent times, since in man~ religious congregatons of brothers and sisters its daily recitation is already prescribed by the constitutions, a prescription which indeed is worthy of the highest, praise. And so it happens. that souls dedicated to God daily propose to themselves for imita-tion the glorious virtues of the same Blessed Virgin, especially her inviolable purity and unimpaired virginity; and by this pious dailg homage they secure for themselves more efficaciously Mary's moth-erIy care and most powerful protection. Furthermore, this same recitation of the Marian Office unites them closely with the liturgical life of the Church and with the Divine'Office of the priests. Especially now in our days this love of the sacred liturgy, re-markably increased through the inspiriztion of the Holy Spirit, has also aroused a stronger desire in not a feu~ of those who daily recite these Marian prayers that they be even more closet~t connected uJith the Church's solemnities and feasts than is possible with the form of the Little Office which has been found in the Roman Breviary since the time of Our Predecessor, St. Pius V. Therefore, with special pleasure, We have learned that while you and your sisters have faith-fully desired to preserve the old and praiseworthy custom of reciting the Little Office of the Blessed Virgin Mary, yet at the same time you cherish the pious wish to have a fuller participation in the liturgical life of the Church, and that you have therefore carefully seen to it that a somewhat expanded edition of the Little Office be prepared, which is adapted more closely to the times and feasts of the liturgical year. Since We have a certain hope that this your holy fidelity to the centuries-old tradition of religious congregations will bring about for you from day to day the greater favor and blessing of the Mother of God, and also that your love for the sacred liturgy will produce in you new and precious fruits of the spiritual life, We gladly permit you, and other congregations who may so desire, to use this new edition of the Little Office of Mary in your daily reci: tation. May the Apostolic Blessing which We impart to you gladly in 150 May, 1954 LITTLE OFFICE Our Lord, dear daughter, and to all the members of ~lour congrega-tion, be a tohen of Our paternal beneoolence. Giuen at Rome, at St. Peter's, March 12. 1953, in the fifteenth ~/ear of Our Pontificate. POPE PIUS XII Use of the New Text This approval of the Holy Father grants members of religious congregations of brothers and sisters who are now reciting the Little Office of the Blessed Virgin by reason of their constitutions or by custom the permission to substitute this new Latin text for the old text approved by Pope Saint Plus V for the entire Church and which is printed in the back of the Roman Breviary. The firm of Marietti, Via Legnano 23, Turin, Italy, issued the first printing of the new text in a combined Latin-German text in December, 1953, and has the sole right of publication. According to the article which appeared in L'Osseruatore, a Latin text by it-self was then in press, and should be available by now. Transla-tions into English, French, and Italian will follow shortly, from the same press. (The Newman Press, Westminster, Maryland, is the agent for Marietti in this country.) Use in the Vernacular The Holy Father approved both the Latin text and the accom-panying German text for the Sisters of the Holy Cross of Men-zingen. They evidently have been reciting the Little Office in Ger-man with special permission. May other religious congregations use any one of the translations to be issued by Marietti without further permission? Some distinctions must be made: (1) As was stated above, any religious congregation now reciting the Little Office in Latin, may at once make use of tl~e new Latin version without ~r-tber permission. (2) Any religious congregation now reciting the Little Office in the vernacular with proper permission, may at once make use of the new text in the vernacular as published by Mari-etti; any other translation of the new Latin text must have the ap-proval of their own local ordinary before it may be used. (3) Any religious congregation now reciting the Little Office in Latin by reason of a prescription of its constitutions, may not change from Latin to the vernacular without permission from the proper au-th6rity: (a) the local Ordinary in the case of a diocesan congrega-tion, since he has the power t~ change their constitutions; (b) tile 151 t ADAM C. ELLIS Sacred Congregation of Religious in the case of a pontifical congre-gation, since only the Holy See can change constitutionk approved by it. This permission should be bequested by a general chapter. " Special Features The new edition of the Little Of}ice of the Blessed Virgin has the following, characteristics: 1. For the Latin text of the psalms it follows theVatican Psalter, a new translation of the Book of Psalms prepared at the Biblical Institute, made prir~cipally from the Hebrew Masoretic text, and approved for optional use in his Motu Proprio In cotidianis precibus by Pope Plus XII, on March 21, 1945. For the German text the psalms are taken from Deutscber Psalter, edited by Romano Guardini, with the permission of the publishers, "K6sel-Verlag." 2. The text is arranged for and adapted to six exact liturgical seasons of the ecclesiastical year: Advent, ChriStmas, Lent, Passion-tide, Eastertide, and the time after Pentecost, with special lessons for each season. 3. The new text has the special antiphons (for the Magnificat and Berledictus) and the proper orations for the more prominent general feasts of the year: Circumcision, Epiphany, St. Joseph, As-cension, Pentecost, Corpus Christi, Sacred Heart, Sts. Peter and Paul, and All Saints; also for the Commemoration of All Souls; likewise for many particular feasts of Our Lady: Immaculate Con-ception; Purification, Annunci'ation, Visitation, Assumption,, Im-maculate Heart, Nativity of "Our Lady, Holy Name of Mary, Seven Sorrows (both feasts), Holy Rosary, Maternity, and Presentation. 4. During Advent the special "O" antiphons are used at Ves-pers on the eight days preceding the vigil of Christmas. For the last three days of Holy Week the Office is conformed to the rubrics, and the Christus factus est :is added to each hour. Conclusion ~ Religious communities of sisters and brothers ~vho have been reciting the Little Office of the Blessed Virgin Mar~ in common by direction of their constitt(tions or by custom will welcome this new edition of the text, brought up to date to conform wih the spirit of the modern litu[gical movement, and approved for them by ,Our , Holy Father. 152 /V ore abou!: Secular Ins!:i!:ut:es Francis N. Korth, S.J. DIRECTORS of souls and others who come in contact with possible vocations will be interested in some information about secular institutes that are actually existing in the United States and Canada and about other groups that have hopes of be-coming secular institutes at some later date if everything works out all right. It happens at times that a religious is approached by a boy or girl who seems to have a clear call to a special practic~ of the evangelical counsels while remaining in the world; it seems to be a vocation to the life led by ~embers of secular institutes. Unfortu-nately little information of practical use has been published for helping such prospective vocations make the necessary contact with individuals who would be in a bett~r position to advise them. The present article is intended to obviate this difficulty to some extent. To this end some items about a number of groups that either are secular institutes or are on the way to possibly developing into secu-lar institutes will be given. It is understandable that in such a highly specialized vocation great care must be taken in admitting candidates; a certain amount ot~ lack of publicity could be a safe-guard. On the other hand, it also seems desirable to have some in-formation about existing groups made available among those who could be of help to candidates having a true vocation to that'type of life. Existing Secular Institutes" Among the few secular institutes existing in the United States ¯ (as far as is known), the first to be mentioned is the pioneer in this country, the Opus Dei. Opus Dei (whose full title is: Sacerdotal Society of the Holy Cross and Opus Dei) was founded in Madrid, Spain, on October 2, 1928, by Monsignor Jos~ Maria Escrivfi 'de Balaguer. Its members make som~ studies in philosophy and, the-ology; some'later go on to the priesthood. A women's branch of Opus Dei (distinct from that of the men) was begun in 1930; this is a completely separate secular institute. For the most part the gov-ernment is in the hinds of the lay members; priest members act inca spiritual kapacity, though some high offices usually are held by priests. The purpose of Opus Dei is to enable its members, while 153 FRANCIS N. KORTH Review for Religious living in the world, to achieve personal p~rfection through the prac-tice of the evangelical counsels and to spread the life of Christian perfection among all classes, especially among those whose profes-sions or positions permit a great influence on society. Opus Dei was the first secular institute to obtain papal approval (decree of praise on February 24, 1947) and the first to receive definitive papal ap-proval (on June 16, 1950). Today Opus Dei has about two hundred houses in various parts of the world; it numbers members from more than thirty countries. In the United States a house of the men's branch has been in exist-ence in Chicago for a number of years (address: 5544 Woodlawn Ave., Chicago 37, Illinois); during the past two years a house of the women's branch has also been set up there (address: 4944 Woodlawn Ave., Chicago 37, Illinois). Since November, 1953, a house of the men's branch has been located at Boston (address: 22 Marlborough St., Boston, Mass~achusetts). At present in the United States there is no diocesan priests' branch. It is of special interest to note that initial steps, in God's providence possibly leading to the honors of the altar, have been taken regarding one of the former members of Opus Dei, Isidoro Zorzano by name, a man in an ordinary profession in the world (he was a railroad construc-tion engineer). His story is told by Daniel Sargent in God's En-gineer. Besides Opus Dei a second secular institute has been given the definitive approval by the Holy See (August 3, 1953) ; it is the in-stitute known as the Missionaries of the Kingship of Christ. This group ~was started at Assisi, Italy, on November 19, 1919, by Father Agostino Gemelli, O.F.M. It is an association of women, with the purpose of dedication to Christian perfection through the observance of the evangelical counsels and of dedication to the lay apostolate of spreading the Kingdom of Christ according to the spirit of St. Francis of Assisi. All members of this secular institute are also members of the Third Order of St, Francis. There is an active section and an oblate section. While no particular aposto-late is undertaken, the members place themselves at the disposal of the Church; members of the active section serve where superiors want to use them. The activities are varied: helping the poor and the sick, operating protective organizations, taking special interest in fostering the liturgical apostolate, encouraging adoration of the Blessed Sacrament in churches, and other works. Candidates might 154 May, 1954 SECULAR INSTITUTES qualify if they, are convinced that they wish to live for Christ, are available for an active apostolate, and are engaged in work that as-sures independence. Applicants should be between the ages of twenty-one and thirty-five, should be in good health, and should realize the need of daily Mass, Holy Communion,and meditation. This institute has three branches: one for men, a second for women (separately organized but .with the same constitutions the men's branch has), and a third for diocesan priests in as far as compatible with their loyalty to their bishop. Lay members may live in their own homes or anywhere they choose. The government, except for the priests' branch, is in the hands of lay persons. An American foundation of this institute exists in Washington, D.C. (Address communications to: Rev. Stephen J. Hartdegen, O.F.M., Holy Name College, 14th and Shepherd Streets, N.E., Washington 17, D.C.) The institute has spread extensively in the country of its origin, besides branching out into four or five other countries; its total membership is probably about four thousand. In 1926 at Schoenstatt, Germany, under the guidance of Father Joseph Kentenich, S.A.C., the Schoenstatt Sisters of Mary of the Catholic Apostolate had their origin. (The word "sisters" is a German title used by all engaged in social work and does not here mean religious sisters in the canonical sense.) The members of this group dedicate themselves fully to a practice of evangelical perfec-tion and the apostolate through a specifically Marian and apostolic formation of modern women in order to aid the spiritual renewal of the world in Christ through Mary. This secular institute for wom-en is part of the general Schoenstatt Apostolic Movement with its various circles and groups, in accordance with the central idea of a universal apostolate--all fields of activity, all persons, everywhere. Some of the varied activities performed by this group include teach-ing, conducting hospitals, acting as home visitors, helping in par-ishes as teachers of children and converts, acting as social workers. The institute nt~mbers close to two thousand today and is spread over five continents. Contact with this group can be made at the following address in this country: New Schoenstatt, R.R. 5, Madi-son 4, Wisconsin. On June 30, 1950, the decree of praise was bestowed by the Holy See on a secular institute known as the Company of St. Paul. Growing out of a Catholic Action activity, this group was started by Cardinal Ferrari at Milan, Italy, on November 17, 1920, as a religious community with a common rule of life. It received the 155 FRANCIS N. KORTH Reuieu~ for Religious name of Companyof~ St. Paul in 1924. A decree of recognition and approval of its rule was received from the Holy See on July 1, 1942. In 1949 the Company of St. Paul was_ included under the new rulings of the Piooida Mater Ecclesia. Besides the pursuit of perfection through the practice of the .evangelical counsels, the pur-pose of this institute is to promote a more efficacious collaboration of clergy and laity in the establishment of the reign of Christ in modern society, both in individuals and in social institutions. Each of the three sections (for.priests, for laymen, and for laywomen) has its own superior, but all are united under one general head cho-sen from the section for priests. Some work is being done in this country by this institute, although no foundation ~xists as yet. (A contact address could be furnished on request.) Another group which has no foundation at present in America, but which has some solid hope of realizing such a foundation in due time (initial steps have been taken), is the Institute of Ou.r Lady of Life. Following the Discalced Carmelite spirituality, this secular institute was started by Father Marie-Eugene, O.C.D., in 1932 near Venasque, France. The element of dedication to the con-templative life in the world, of the silent apostolate of edification, of being witnesses to Christ either through individual activity or through works proper to the institute is the characteristic note of this organization. Any appropriate kind of work is permitted to the members; some are engaged in teaching, others in social work or various walks of public life. This institute received diocesan ap-proval in France several years ago., " The foregoing are the secular institutes known to have founda-tions or at least representatives in this country. Groups in Process of Deuetopment Besides established secular institutes, a number, of other groups in this country and in Canada are in the process of possibly devel-oping into future secular institutes. An organization which has obtained approval (as a "pious union") in two dioceses in France and in one in Canada is caIled the Daughters of St. Catherine of Siena. This group was founded in France in 1947~ by Father Thomas Deman, O.P. The Dominican spirituality is followed. Formation of the members takes place in convents of the Dominican Sisters of the Congregation of St. Cath-erine of Siena. At present all American members are affiliated with the Canadian foundation; a house in the United States is desired. 156 Ma~t, 1054 SECULAR INSTITUTES Canada has a very flourishing association of this kind which is in the process of possible development into a secular institute. Its purpose is dedication to evangelical perfection and tb an apostolate in the world according to the principle, "Caritas Christi per Mari-am" (the Charity of Christ through Mary). The apostolate is being carried on in Canada; foreign mission work is a possibility. This associaton has over twenty-two groups with about two hun-dred members, many of whom practice a profession. .Members are trained to live alone; personal responsibility is cultivated. The growth of this group has been phenomenal. A number of smaller groups are in lesser stages of development in this country. One such group is at present engaged in the home care and guidance of teen-age boys, and envisions eventual apostolic work in career-counseling, information services, engaging in Church public relations, personnel service in staffing Catholic organizations, and obtaining positions in other institutions. Another group, based upon the Benedictine way of life, is dedi-cated to the rural lay apostolate of helping pastors in their work for souls in needy rural areas. A third group has adopted St. Francis de Sales as its patron in its general apostolate of helping the pastor of a parish; under his direction such help might take the shape of visiting families in the p.arish, talking with persons about going to the sacraments and having their babies baptized, the promotion of retreats and da.y,s of recollection and the like. Still another group is dedicated to an apostolate of service in discovering and developing a Christian culture primarily through work in the poorest and most needy parishes; a member might fill in temporarily for a teacher who is sick or might help to clean the church or do other tasks. In such groups provision is made of course for fostering the spiritual life of the members. In at ,least several of them the breviary is recited in English. Since members usually support themselves in their regular professions or positions or jobs, they are accustomed to work. In one group eight hours of work per day is expected of each regular member. To help meet the financial problem in another of these organizations, the smaller groupings will have three or four members, with one earning the income for the group and the others devoting their full time to the works of the institute without re-muneration. All of these groups are still in the formative stage; as such they also usually are small in number for the time being. When further development is realized, expansion would be desirable. Besides these developing groups, there are several other, tentative 157 FRANCIS N. KORTH Reoiew for Religious groups in the early stages of thought, Possibly there are many more. If anyone in a responsible position cares to send in more information for publication about one of the groups already mentioned, or about others, such information would receive due consideration for pos-sible publication in this REVIEW. A goodly number of priests are quite interested in these new institutes because of the possibilities of their apostolate. Some priests are helping groups to develop; others direct or prepare possible candidates for some such group. One priest, for exampIe, becomes weIl acquainted with young people in the retreats he conducts; then, having knowledge of exist!ng secular institutes or associations in the stage of development, he is in a posi-tion to aid likely candidates and channel them to one of the groups existing in various parts of America. The Nagoya Group After, considering the various known secular institutes and the developing groups in our own country and in Canada, our readers might be interested in knowing something about a secular institute which has been established in Nagoya, Japan. This move is con-sidered of historical impc~rtance, according to one newspaper ac-count, because "it represents something entirely new in the history of mission countries." .The problem of catechists and lay apostles in Japan had become vital owing to the increasing number of catechumens. At the same time a large number of young women were yearni~ng to consecrate themselves entirely to a life of perfection and of the apostolate. As a result various bands of catechists worked in" different ~places. Four years ago, undef the inspiration and guiding hand of a missionary, Father'George Gemeinder, S.V.D., women catechists were grouped together for the purpose of forming a future secular institute. On January 28 of this year (1954), the Secular Insntute of the Cate-chists of Our Lady, Virgin and Mother, received the nihil obstat from Rome in regard to its constitutions; the institute was then established by the Prefect Apostolic of Nagoya, Monsignor Peter Matsuoka, on February 11, 1954. The first year of novitiate was scheduled to open on the Feast of the Annunciation, March 25, 1954. One of the women members has been made "Inchosama," which is a general term for "head of the house" or superior. Father Gemeinder acts as director; Father Anthony Zimmerman, S.V.D., is wce-dlrector. The purpose of this institute is to help the needs of the missions. 158 May, 1954 SECULAR INSTITUTES Among the varied forms of the apostolate in which members might be ~ngaged would be included the following: acting as full-time catechists at various mission stations; assisting existing organizations in the locality: acting as .teachers, hospital workers, and the like; being employed in a professional field. Candidates should have the necessary physical, mental, and so-cial qualities for carrying on the.work of the institute. After a pos-. tulancy and novitiate, during which a solid'training in spiritual mat-ters is given to help them lay a firm foundation for a life of personal perfection and for a fruitful apostolate, the members take the vows of poverty, chastity,, and obedience proper to their institute and,a promise under oath to devote themselves to the apostolate. In car-rying on their apostolic work, members might live individually or at times in community. This gives some idea of the new secular institute at Nagoya. As its name implies, stress is placed upon catechetical training and work --an all-important apostolate in a country in which so many souls have not yet heard the message Christ came to preach. Conclusion As a conclusion to these statistics on secular institutes, it might be interesting to mention the secular institutes which are listed in the Annuario Ponti[icio for 1953 as being institutes of pontifical right. On pages 832-833 four secular institutes for men are thus listed. They are the Company of St. Paul (originated in Italy), Opus Dei (originated in Spain), the Priest Workers of the Sacred Heart of Jesus (Spain), and the Society of the Heart of Jesus (France). For women fi've such institutes are given on page. 1233: the Daughters of the Queen of the Apostles (Trent), the Teresian Institute (Mad-rid), the Missionaries of the Kingship of Our Lord Jesus-Christ (Milan), the Institute of Our Lady of Work (Paris), and the Women's Section of Opus Dei (Madrid). PLENARY INDULGENCE FOR SEVEN SORROWS BEADS At the request of the Prior General of the Order of the Servants of Mary (Servites), His Holiness, Pope Plus XII. on December 19, 1953, kindly granted a plenary indulgence to be gained by the faithful who, after confession and Holy Communion, devoutly recite the beads of the Seven Sorrows of the Blessed Virgin Mary, before the Blessed Sacrament of tbe Altar, wbether publicly exposed or re-served in the tabernacle. (Acta Apostolicae Sedis, February 16, 1954, p. 73.) 159 NATURE AND GRACE. By Matthlas Joseph Scheeben. Translated by Cyril Vollert, S.J. Pp. xxlv ~ 361. B. Herder Book Co., St. Lou~s, 1954. $4.~s. With the Publication of this work in 1861 the author took his first step on the path which brought him to the forefront of the theologians of his day. In it be set out to treat the central theme of his thought--the super~natural and its place in the life of the Chris-tian. Around this thought his treatise is built and on it the em-phasis is constantly placed. This is not a textbook but a readable treatise which has been put into flowing English. Scheeben not only knew the great Scholastic writers but be was also well versed in the Fathers of the Church, both Western and Eastern. With such an equipment he manages to make clear many difficult concepts and doctrines. We are thus treated not merely to a fine doctrinal exposition but also to a stirring appeal to realize our destiny. Parts, if not all, of the book will serve well for spiritual read-ing. Thus, after a thorough explanation of man's spiritual nature, of sanctifying grace and the supernatural order, there follows'a care-ful explanation of the acts of the supernatural life, particularly faith, hope, and charity. The climax is an enthusiastic description of the union of nature and grace in the supernatural acts. --AUGUSTIN C. WAND, S.J. Books abou Mary A book of exceptional value is PAPAL PRONOUNCEMENTS ON MARY, compiled and arranged by the Right Rev. Msgr. William J. Doheny, C.S.C., and the Rev. Joseph P. Kelly. It contains transla-tions of the principal papal statements about Mary from Pius IX to Pius XII. Included are the texts of Ineffabilis Deus and Muni£- centissfmus Deus, defining the dogmas of the Immaculate Conception and the Assumption respectively, and the very beautiful encyclical of Plus X, Ad Diem Illum. This is the best kind of spiritual read-ing about the Mother of God. (Milwaukee, Wis.: The Bruce Pub-lishing Company, 1954. Pp. x -t- 270. $4.50.) 160 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS MEDITATIONS AND INSTRUCTIONS ON THE BLESSED VIRGIN, by the Rev. Arthur Vermeersch, S.J., is a reprint of a work pub-lished in the early part of the century and translated by W. Hum-phrey Page, K.S.G. The meditations and instructions are intended for the use of both clergy and laity. Volume I contains meditations for each of the feasts of Mary, a novena for the Feast of the Im-maculate Conception, a novena to obtain devotion to Mary, and meditations for the month of May. Volume II has a meditation for each Saturday of the year, as well as a supplement with meditations for various feasts. (Westminster, Md.: The Newman Press, 1954. Pp. I." xxiv + 438; II: xv + 468. $7.50 per "set.) The Rev. A. Biskupek, S.V.D., offers readings and reflections on OUR LADY'S LITANY. This is a good book for meditation during May, October, or any other time during the Marian Yea[. Helpful reflections are provided for each invocation of the Litany of Loreto. The author will be remembered for his three volumes of conferences on the rite of ordination. (Milwaukee, Wis.: The Bruce Publishing Company, 1954. Pp. vi + 166. $2.75.) MARY C~OD'S MASTERPIECE features sixty-two reproductions of paintings of Our Lady in full color, with appropriate texts from the Sacred Scriptures and the Liturgy~ The the Redemptorist Fathers as a Marian-Year Mother. It is a real work of art, an attractive Year. (New York, N.Y.: Perpetual Help $2.00.) The latest of his many writings about book was prepared by tribute to the Blessed souvenir of the Marian Press, 1954. Pp. the Blessed Mother is THE SONG OF THE ROSARY, by Daniel A. Lord, S.J. The book covers each of the fifteen mysteries of the Rosary in a style which the author himself explains in his own inimitable way: "I found that I could not possibly confine in simple prose the context of what I had to write or the emotions needed to accompany the writing. So I adopted a sort of natural rhythm that is not prose and yet not strictly analyzable poetry. Call it what you wis,h; I call it simply a rhythm." (St. Louis, Mo: The Queen's Work, 1953. Pp. 399. $4.00.) BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS [For the most part, these notices are purely descriptive, based on a cursory exam-ination of the books listed.] AVE MARIA PRESS, Notre Dame, Indiana. Patch Scatters Culture. By Patrick J. Carroll, C.S.C. This is 161 I~OOK ANNOUNCEMENTS Review for Religious the fourth of Father Carroll's books about Patch. The first was published almost twenty-five years ago. It was, as one reviewer said of it, "one of the happiest, brightest, most vivacious stories of a boy's life that one could wish to read." Of the author, the same re-viewer said: "Father Carroll has the gift of spinning a story and filling it with humor and wisdom. His dialogue is even more sprightly than his narrative." The story-telling gift; and espe-cially the realistic, Irish-flavored dialogue are still ~manifest in this fourth volume which continues the reminiscences of Patch and con-cludes with an Epilogue about how Patch, now a priest, visited his homeland. "And so happy memories to you," the Epilogue con-cludes; and one who knows Father Carroll can even hear him say it. Pp. 223. $2.75. BEAUCHESNE, R

Issue 21.1 of the Review for Religious, 1962. ; Volume 1962 21 EDITORIAL OFFICE St. Mary's College St. Marys, Kansas BUSINESS OFFICE 428 E. Preston St. Baltimore 2, Maryland ASSOCIATE EDITORS Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Augustine G. Ellard, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITORS John E. Becker, S.J. Emile G. McAnany, S.J. DEPARTMENTAL EDITORS Questions and Answers Joseph F. Gallen, Woodstock College Woodstock, Maryland Book Reviews Earl A. Weis, S.J. West Baden College West Baden Springs, Indiana Published in January, March, May, July, September, Novem-ber on the fifteenth of the month. REVIEW FOR RELI-GIOUS is indexed in the CATHOLIC PERIODICAL IN-DEX. CONGREGATION OF RELIGIOUS Extern Sisters of Monasteries of Nuns AN INSTRUCTION TOGETHER WITH STATUTES CONCERNING THE SISTERS ENGAGED IN THE EXTERNAL SERVICE OF MONASTERIES OF NUNS. TheI characteristic condition of nuns living within cloister is such that in order to safeguard their life of recol-lection, it is necessary that there be certain persons to take care of the business and affairs of the monastery outside the cloister. Accordingly, therehas never been a time when there was a lack of pious women who generally lived out-side the cloister and who were not obligated by any bonds which properly speaking could be called the bonds of re-ligious life. Such women were given the title of oblates, mandates, portresses, or some other such name. In the course of time, however, these pious women ex-pressed a desire for a more intimate participation in the life of the cloistered nuns; and in various places they were permitted to remain obligated to the external service of a monastery after making a special resolution, .promise, oath, or vow. Moregver, there were rules, constitutions, and statutes which were approved by the Holy See and which consecrated this proposal of,leading their life in a religious way. In modern times the decree of the Sacred Congregation of Religious, Conditio plurium monasteriorum, of July 16, 1931, effected and regulated this state as a stable one of sisters with simple religious vows. These sisters (see Statuta a sororibus externis monasteriorum monialium cuiusque Ordinis servanda [Statutes [or the Extern Sisters.of Monas-teries of Nuns o[ Every Oi'der], n. 4) were declared to be "members of the community they serve and participants in the same spiritual goods as the nuns." In order, how-ever, that the juridical incorporation of the sisters into the community should not endanger the contemplative life of ¯ The original text of this document appeared in Acta Apostolicae Sedis, v. 53 (1961), pp. 371-80. Extern Sisters VOLUME 21~ 1962 1 4" ÷ Congregation oy Religious REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS the nuns, a general norm was laid down according to which the sisters were to live in. a part of the monastery outside of papal cloister. The experience, however, of the last thirty years has clearly shown that a number of things in the Statutes of 1931 need to be modified by adapting them to more recent pontifical documents concerning the life of nuns, by omit-ting certain prescriptions of common law already included in the constitutions of nuns, and by accommodating them more closely to the tules and constitutions of the second Order to which the sisters belong. Accordingly, the Sacred Congregation of Religious has decided to make a new, shorter, but complete edition of the previously mentioned Statutes. The following points, however, are to be noted. 1. Monasteries of nuns which do.not have sisters for ex-ternal. service and do not need them since the external ser-vice of the monastery is taken care of by secular persons of known worth who have been chosen with the consent of the lbcal ordinary and who live outside of cloister are not obliged to inaugurate this class of sisters. 2. Where the rules or constitutions of a given order ex-pressly prescribe and regulate the external service 6f sisters for a monastery of nuns, the canonical dispositions by which this service is governed retain their full force, pro-vided they are not contrary to the sacred canons nor to the apostolic konstitution, Sponsa Christi. 3.If for the sake of better preserving the spirit of their own foundation and vocation the nuns of an Order wish to insert into their own constitutions special dispositions for the external service of the monastery, they are free to draw up such dispositions, which, however, are to be sub-mitted for the approbation of the Sacred Congregation of Religious. Afer a similar approbation by the same congregation, such prescriptions may also be inserted into the statutes of those federations erected by the Holy See which preserve within the same Order a somewhat diversified practice of regular observance. HOwever, the prescriptions to be added either to the constitutions or to the statutes of the federation according to the nature of the Order are to be conformed to the following gen.eral statutes. Chapter 1: On the Duties and Place of Residence o[ Sisters Devoted to External Service ARTICLE I § I. With the consent of the chapter and with the ap-proval of the local ordinary as well as that of the regular superior if they are subject to one, monasteries of nuns may make provisions for sisters destined for external ser-vice whose principal duty will be to serve the monastery in those external matters which can not be cared for by the cloistered members. § 2. Moderate works of the apostolate connected with the monastery but performed outside papal cloister may be considered as part of the external service, to.which~ the sisters are destined. ~ "'~ ~ , :~'~, ARTICLE 2 The extern sisters are members of the community of their monastery, and in the orderof precedence come after the choir nuns and the lay sisters (conversaq);. they profess the same rule and constitutions as their fellow religious the nuns, but by reason of their proper office they are sub-ject to the present statutes which repeal some prescriptions of the rule and the constitutions. § 1. Without prejudice to article 4, the extern sisters have a residence which is annexed to the monastery and which is subject to common cloister (see canon 604 and the instruction Inter cetera, n. 73), though not within the limits of the papal cloister of the nuns (see the instruction, Inter cetera, n. 11 b; 44 b). Accordingly, they may not enter the part of the monastery reserved for the nuns except in accordance with the provisions made in these statutes. § 2. Without prejudice to the stricter law of individual monasteries, the superior with the consent of her council and with the approbation of the local ordinary and of the regular superior if there be one, has the right to permit the extern sisters to meet at times with the nuns inside the cloister of the monastery for sake of piety or instruction as well as for eating and recreating together, care' being taken that nothing detrimental follows from this. At these times, the sisters, even though they should be questioned impru-dently, should refrain from referring to things they have sebn or heard outside the monastery; they should especially keep silent about matters which do not set a good.'bxample or which can disturb peace ~nd application 6f mind. The superior with her councilors should watch over these mat-ters; and if the entrance of the sisters into the monastery furnishes the occasion for abuses, suitable remedies should be used. § 3. In accordance with the, judgment of the superior and her council together with a previous and at least a general approbation of the local ordinary and of the regu-lar superior if there be one, the sisters living outside the cloister may at times be used for the internal dut'ies of the monastery, care being .taken that they do not habitually associate with the nuns. § 4. What is said in this article about the entrance of the ÷ 4- + Exterrt Sisters VOLUME 21, 1962 ÷ ÷ ÷ Congregation o~ Religious REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 4 sisters into cloister holds as well for postulants and for novices of the second year of novitiate. ARTICLE § 1. Attention being given to the spirit and nature of each order as well as to the number of nuns living in a monastery, monasteries, after a previous vote of the chap. ter and, in the case of monasteries belonging to a federa-tion, after hearing the council Of the federation, may with the approbation of the Holy See permit the extern sisters to be habitually within the limits of the cloister of the monastery, even though they are not bound by the law of papal cloister. In this case precautions should be taken that such association of the sisters with the nuns bound by the law of cloister does not harm the spirit of recollection; besides other precautions, a kind of separation should be instituted within the cloister similar to that prescribed for the novitiate (canon 564, § 1), and the sisters should be forbidden to relate to the nuns the things that happen outside of cloister. § 2. Since they are not bound by the law of papal clois-ter, sisters who habitually live within the cloister, may, ac-cording to the jud .gment of the superior, leave the cloister for the external service or work of the monastery or for another just and reasonable cause. Without violation of the discipline and the purpose of the postulancy and the novitiate (canon 565), the same provision holds also for novices even 'of the first year of the novitiate and for the postulants, if the postulancy, accord-ing to the norm of article 9, § 2, is made within the clois-ter. ARTICLE The residence and other places outside the limits of cloister destined for the extern si~ters are subject to the vigilance and visitation not only of the local ordinary and of the regular superior if there be one, but also, due pre-scriptions being observed, of the superior of the monastery and of the moderator of the federation in the case of fed-erated monasteries (see the instruction, Inter cetera, n. 24, 5°). ARTICLE § 1. In order that works of the apostolate be exercised in monasteries in a stable way according to the norm of article 1, § 2, besides the previous approval of the local or-dinary and of the regular superior if there be one, the ap-probation of the Holy See is required. § 2. In exercising the works of the apostolate, the sisters should follow the norms set down by the local ordinary. ARTICLE 7 § 1. The habit of the sisters should be the same as that of the nuns, suitably accommodated, however, by the chap-ter to the purpose of external service according to the circumstances of time and place. : . ~ § 2. With regard to'th~ ~eii~s :habit in of one and the same ~ederation, the sisters, as far as pos-sible, should be dressed in the same way. Chapter 2: On the Training o[ Extern Sisters Aa'rIcL~ 8 In admitting and forming extern sisters, the same con-ditions should be observed as those prescribed in the con-stitution~ for the nuns of the monastery, account being ~aken, however, o~ the former's special role. The superior with her council should see to it that only those asp.irants are accepted who are mature in judgment and conspicuous for more than ordinary piety, in order that in their deal-ings with seculars, especially outside the monastery, they may give an outstanding example. Ax~cL~ 9 § 1. The postulancy should last one year; the superior, however, having heard her council, may reduce this time to six months or prolong it for another six months beyond the year, according as seems necessary for the fitting prepa-ration. of a postulant for the novitiate. § 2. The postulancy should be made in the residence of the sisters in order that the postulants may be exercised and tested in their proper duties. Nevertheless, in accordance with the judgment of the superior and her council and with the approval of the local ordinary and of the regular superior if there be one, the postulancy can be made within the monastery; that is, within the cloister of the nuns, without prejudice, how-ever, to the statutes of the federation if it is the case, of a federated monastery nor to article 4, § 2. ARTICLE 10 § 1~ The novitiate is to last for two years. The first of these years is strictly canonical; and although these novices are not bound by the law of papal cloister, it is to be made together with the novices within the cloister of each mon-astery or, if it is a case of a federation, of another monas-tery of the federation. This year, in order to be valid, mus, t be whole and continuous according to tile norms of law. § 2. In order that the novices be exercised in their proper works, the second year of the novitiate should be made in the proper residence of the sisters under the vigi, lance of a specially designated sister who is to givea report E~tern Sisters VOLUME ~'1, 1962 5 lllll! I ÷ .t- ongregation ot l~liglous REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 6 to the mistress of novices. Two months before profession, the novices should refrain completely from external ser-vice and remain within the novitiate of the monastery in order that there under the direction of the mistress of novices they may be able to prepare themselves more tran-quilly for profession. § 3. In accordance with the judgment of the superior and her council and with the approval of the local or-dinary and of the regular superior if there be one, this second year also can be made within the monastery with-out, however, the novices being bound by papal cloister. § 4. In training the novices in religious life, while in-structions and conferences are to be given in the same way as is prescribed in the constitutions for the novitiate of nuns, special care should be taken to give them instruc-tions in the external matters and affairs for which they are destined. A~T~CLE 11 The novitiate made by extern sisters is not valid for choir nuns or for lay sisters (conversis); nor is the novitiate made for choir nuns or for lay sisters valid for extern sis-ters. ARTICLE 12 § 1. On the completion of the novitiate, the novice should make a profession of simple temporary vows for six years; these should be renewed yearly, at least during the first three-year period. At the end of the six years, they should make a profession of simple, but perpetual vows or return to the world. § 2. In making the profession the rite of each monastery should be retained with necessary changes, however, being made. The first religious profession following the novitiate is to be made by 'the sisters within the cloister of the mon-astery; the renovations of vows, as well as the perpetual profession, should be made outside of cloister at the choir grille of the nuns. However, in accordance with the judg-ment of the superior and her council and with the ap-proval of the local ordinary and of the regular supe~-ior it there be one, these may be made within the cloister. § 8. The formula of' profession should be the same as that of the nuns with the necessary additions and changes; for each profession of the sisters should be made in the quality of an extern sister according to the rule and con-stitutions of the monastery as well as according to the proper statutes for extern sisters approved by the Apostolic See. § 1. Without prejudice to the prescriptions of the con-stitutions concerning the cession of administration and the disposition of the use and usufruct of property, according to the norm of the common law (canon 569, §'1 and canon 580, § 1) every professed of simple vows, whether perpetual or temporary, unless something else is provided for in the constitutions, retains the ownership of her prop-erty and the capacity of.~acqu~rlng.~other 'property:- Lest, however, the extern sisters be solicitous about their prop-erty, even before their profession of temporary vows they should freely make a civilly valid will with regard to pres-ent property as well as to whatever may come to them in the future. They may not change this without the permis-siqn of the Holy See or, if the matter is urgent and there is no time for recourse to the Holy See, without the permis-sion of the superior of the monastery i~ which the sister is a, ctually living. § 2. Without prejudice to any ivtdult granted by the Holy See, the sisters can not renounce their property or abdicate it gratuitously. § 3. The cession or disposition which is treated in canon 569 can be changed by a professed sister not indeed by her own personal decision unless the constitutions allow this, but with the permission of her superior as well as of the local ordinary and of the regular superior if there be one, pro.vided a change which involves a notable part of her property is not made in favor of the monastery. In case of departure from the monastery this cession and disposition lose their force. § 4. Whatever the sister acquires by her own industry or by reason of the monastery, she acquires for the monas-tery. Chapter 3: On the Discipline of the Extern Sisters ARTICLE 14 § 1. The sisters, no less than the nuns, are subject to the superior of the monastery in all things, both with regard to religious discipline and to the service to be done by them. It is the duty of~ the superior to prescribe the habitual order of their exercises for the sisters and to provide in a maternal way whatever is necessary for them to lead their common and individual lives. § 2. The superior can delegate one 6f the extern sisters or a nun mature in prudence and age and professed of perpetual vows to watch that everything pertaining to discipline or service is carried out in an orderly way ac-cording to the commands of the superior. This sister should prudently make what reports are necessary to the superior or to some other nun designated for this and should receive instructions from her. ÷ ÷ ÷ ÷ ÷ Congregation Religious REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 8 ARTICLE 15, § I. The superior should see to it that the extern sisters perform the exercises of piety which are. contained in the rule and constitutions except those which are proper to the choir nuns: § 2. With regard to Holy Communion and to confession, the prescriptions contained in the constitutions for the nuns should be observed. § 3. With regard to occasional confessions, the sisters enjoy the faculties .which are granted to religious women not bound by papal cloister; namely, if a sister for peace of conscience goes to a confessor approved for women by the local ordinary, the confession is valid and licit, when made in a church or an oratory even a semi-public one or in any other place legitimately destined for the confessions of women or of religious women or legitimately designated as such for a particular confession (see canon 522). § 4. With the consent of the superior and the approval of the local ordinary'and of the regular superior if there be one, the spiritual exercises mentioned ih § 1 may be made by the extern sisters inside the cloister of the nuns. ARTICLE 16 As far as possible, the duties of piety treated in the pre-ceding article should be made by the sisters in common. The sisters should also eat and recreate in common. ARTICLE 17 With regard to the laws of abstinence and fast proper to each Order by reason of the rule and the constitutions, the superior should treat the extern sisters mategnally, dispens-ing in these matters insofar as there is real need. It is de-sirable that in each Order or at least in each federation there be set up the same norm for the observance by the sisters of such proper laws. ARTICLE 18 § 1. The sisters should remain at home, diligently en-gaging in prayer and work; and they should not go outside except to care for the business of the monastery or for some other reasonable cause and with the express per-mission of the superior; nor should they leave the house singly without a just cause and the permission of the su-perior. When they go.out, they should be mindful of their state in their conduct and speech with seculars; and by manifesting modesty, piety, meekness, urbanity, and the greatest reverence, they should be a source of edification to all. § 2. The superior may not permit the sisters to live out-side the house except for a just cause and for as short a time as possible; for an absence which exceeds a month there is required the permission of the local ordinary and of the regular superior if there be one; for an absence, moreover, which lasts beyond six months, the permission of the Apostolic See is necessary. ARTICLE 19 § 1. A sick sister who, in the judgment of the physician or the superior, can not be conveniently cared for in the external residence, may be brought into cloister; and her cloistered fellow religious should take care of her with the greatest charity, offering their help kindly and solicitously. § 2. In the same way, aged sisters who ha~;e become in-capable of external service and who lack suitable assistance in the external residence may, with the permission of the superior to be granted with the consent of the council and with the approval of the local ordinary and of the regular superior if there be one, be admitted into the monastery. § 3. The superior, however, should be vigilant lest on this occasion the discipline of the nuns, especially the spirit of recollection which should always flourish within the cloister, should suffer harm. The matter having been taken up with His Holiness John XXIII in an audience granted to His Eminence the cardinal prefect on March 1, 1961, the Sacred Congrega-tion of Religious in accordance with the commission given it by the apostolic constitution, Sponsa Christi, of Novem-ber 21, 1950 (Acta Apostolicae Sedis, v. 43. [1951], p. 5) and by reason of the powers conferred on it, prescribes and commands that the present norms and statutes concerning the extern sisters of monasteries be put into observa-tion. All contrary matters notwithstanding. Given at Rome, March 25, 1961. VALERIUS Cardinal VALERI, Prefect L.~S. Paul Philippe, O.P., Secretary + 4- + Extern Si~ter$ VOLUME 21, 1962 9 MSGR. AGOSTINO CASAROLI Papal Plan for Latin America Msgr. Casaroli rep-resented the Ponti-ficihl Commission for Latin America at the Second Na-tional Congress of Religious. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 10 It is indeed an honor and a privilege for me to bring you distinguished members of this great assembly1, the cordial greetings, the thanks, and the good wishes of the Pontifical Commission for Latin America. When the Holy See was informed that the Congress of the Major Religious Superiors of the United States was to consider the problems confronting the Church in Latin America as part of its program of studies and delibera-tions, Archbishop Samore, Vice-President of the Pontifical Commission and Secretary of the Sacred Congregation for Extraordinary Ecclesiastical Affairs, was designated to rep-resent the Commission at this gathering and to speak to you of the struggles, of the desires, and of the hopes of the Church in those countries. Undoubtedly Archbishop Samore was the person most qualified to accomplish this mandate, not only because of the prestige of his office in the Church, but particularly be-cause of the deep knowledge he has of questions concei:n-ing all the facets and perspectives of the situation in Latin America where he spent three years as Apostolic Nuncio to Colombia. Moreover, Archbishop Samore also knows the great generosity and the resources of the Church in the United States where he spent some years at the Apostolic Delegation in Washington. But above all, his passionate and unstinting dedication to the cause of the Church in Latin America, which for many years has been one of the main concerns of his life, would have made him, perhaps, the best informed and most authoritative speaker at this convention on that subject. Unfortunately, recent sorrowful events have prevented him from being present here for a task that he considered as a mission to be accomplished for the Church itself. Since I am not in a position to speak with his eloquence 1 This is the text of a speech delivered by Msgr. Casaroli at the Second National Congress of Religious on August 17, 1961. and his personal authority, I shall limit myself to submit-ting briefly for your consideration some objective facts and remarks. Their compelling eloque.nce together with the heartrending appeals of the Popes in favor of Latin Amer-ica will, I am confident, lead you to adopt positive resolu-tions such as the Holy See eagerly expects, from~this as-sembly and from the magnificent group of thousands of men and women religious you represent. The appeal of the Holy See in favor of Latin America is fundamentally based on two considerations to which no true son of the Church, much less religious men and women, can remain indifferent. First, that duty of charity by which the family, the Body, which constitutes the Catholic Church, feels as its own the problems and needs Of each of its parts; all the more so when such needs and problems are more serious and the part of the Church affected hy them is more important. Second, the interest--in the highest and noblest sense of the word---of the entire Catholic Church, since weakness of or dangers to Christian life in such an important sector of the Church, as undoubtedly Latin America is, repre-sents for it a serious menace, while progress there repre-sents a bright promise. Here are a few facts to support these two propositions: 1. The importance of Latin America to the Church; first of all, its numerical importance, since, with about one hundred and eighty million inhabitants, the over-whelming majority of them Catholic, Latin America rep-resents about a third of world Catholicism in numbers. Moreover, the demographic increase of Latin Americam noted, not always without alarm, by sociologists, econo-mists, and political experts--together with the fact that children are traditionally baptized in the Church of their parents even if the latter are not practical churchgoers, would seem to indicate that such increase will augment proportionally in the future. Secondly, an importance arising from the fact that the twenty nations of Latin America, frequently acting en bloc, exercise in international assemblies--which often treat of principles and questions of vital interest to the Churchma very considerable influence. A third motive of importance is the richness of Latin- American Catholicism--although still rather potential than actual--both in quantity and quality, with the con-sequences deriving therefrom for the future development of Catholicism and its spread throughout the world. 2. This sector of Catholicismwimposing as it is both in numbers and unity, in sincerity and solidity of senti-ment, so heroic in times of persecution, so strongly resist-ing internal insufficiencies and dangers from without~ yet surfer's from perilous elemental weaknesses of structure. ÷ ÷ ÷ Latin America VOLUME 21, 1962 ]! ÷ ÷ ÷ Msgr. Casaroli REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ]~ Characteristically, these weaknesses are manifested and in a way summarized by the well-known lack of clergy, and indeed of all apostolic workers, in Latin America; a lack which is at the same time the cause and the result of the dangerous situation there, aggravated by the greater menace of the enemies of Catholicism in those countries. Such enemies and such menaces are particularly--as Pope Pius XII declared to the Second World Congress of the Apostolate of the Laity.in October, 1957--"the inroads of Protestant sects; the secularization of .the whole way of life; Marxism, the influence of which is felt in the uni-versities and is very active, even dominant, in almost all labor organizations; and finally a disquieting practice of spiritism." This list, we might add, is only indicative. 3. Faced with this situation, and foreseeing its future developments, some people, pessimists who lack confi-dence in Divine Providence and the Church's supernat-ural resources and who very often are not objective in observing and judging things as they are in reality, even wonder whether in a few decades Latin America will still be a Catholic continent or if it will not rather be com-pletely lost to the Church. The Holy See does not at all share such pessimistic views. On the other hand, the Holy See does not ignore the danger there might be, if oppor-tune measures are not taken or if they are not taken suffi-ciently urgently. The mere possibility that even part of a continent hold-ing such an important place in the Church could be lost to her is more than enough motive to excite in her chil-dren, and particularly in you religious that feeling of dutiful charity and interest mentioned above. 4. In contrast with these deprecable and deprecated possibilities, there shine forth the luminous prospects em-phasized with such eloquence and paternal satisfaction by the Sovereign Pontiffs when speaking of Latin America; but always on condition that the necessary efforts and sac-rifices be made now, with wise generosity and without delay. His Holiness Pope John XXIII, speaking on March 25, 1960, to the Fathers and Mothers General of Institutes of Perfection, asserted: The future of the Church in the vast territories of Latin America appears rich in ineffable promise; and We nourish the firm conviction that Catholic spirit and life :in those regions have in themselves sufficient strength to encourage the most optimistic hopes for the future. Those treasures Of spiritual wealth so profusely bestowed there in the past, and yet more those which will be given with full hands in the future, will .surely give rise to rich fruits of holiness and grace, to the greater joy of the Chui'ch of God. Earlier still, Pope'Pius XII had affirmed with prophetic confidence: renWdeer earde b caocnkf iad ethnot uthsaatn tdhfeo lbdeln Tefhietsr en owwil lr eccoemivee dth we idlla yla wterh ebne Latin America will be able to give back to the entire Church Christ all that it has received; when, as We hope, it shall have put to use those ample and powerful energies which seem only to await the hands of the pr rhieis t, that they may at once be employed for the honor and wo.s P.~o;~f Gx.ozd:., 'a~n;d~,l ;t~h et '~ spread; of Christ's ,~t~r :~l~'b6iesiarn Kingdom on earth (P~us Ch'risti, 1955). ¯ Hence, the conclusions to be drawn ~rom these con-siderations, which could anal sh6uld be developed at greater length, are the ~ollowing: First, the Church~that ~is, all o~ us who, with the Pope, the Bishops and our brothers in the Faith, constitute the Church~has the duty o~ collaboration so that not even a small part o~ that precious heritage o~ the Catholic religion which is Latin America should be lost; second, that the Church has the sacred duty o~ aiding those apostolic ~orces, mostly still latent in Latin-American Catholicism, to activate them-selves, so that their strong support may be.relied upon to engage with high hopes o~ success in the great adventure o~ the conquest o[ the world to the.truth o~ the [aith and to the beauties o[Ghristian living. What is the Church doing, what is the Holy See doing, in regard to the religious problem o~ Latin America? It ¯ would take too long to answer exhaustively or even sum-marily; a ~ew indications are all we can give. First o[ all, it must be said that Latin-American Cathol-icism~ bishops, clergy, religious and ~aith[ul~is reso-lutely working tc~ break the -vicious circle in which it seems to be imprisoned. Good results have been and are being obtained, admirable, praiseworthy, ~ull o~ promise ~or the ~uture. We must also, with all [raternal charity, but also with necessary objectivity, add that the disproportion between the available means, especially o~ personnel, and the ever-growing gravity o[ the tasks to accomplish and the perils to avert is so great, that humanly speaking it would seem impossible, or at least extremely difficult, ~or Latin-Amer-ican Catholicism to be able, unaided, to overcome this critical situation in time. The work o~ the Holy See then, especially in most re-cent times, has been exercised in a two~old effort: (a) that o~ encouraging, aiding and promoting the initiative o~ the Latin-American hierarchy, clergy, religious institutes, and laity; and (b) that o~ encouraging, requesting and discovering collaboration therein ~rom other ~parts o~ the great Catholic ~amily. Regarding the first point, and apart ~rom what concerns the single dioceses or nations, I shall only recall the con-vocation o~ a General Conference o~ the Latin-American Episcopate in Rio de Janeiro in the year 1955 in order to VOLUME ÷ ÷ Msgr. Casaroli REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 14 study the problem together and lay the bases for a vigor- .ous collective effort; then the constitution in 1956 of a permanent office for contact and collaboration between the hierarchies of the various Latin-American countries, called the Latin-American Episcopal Council (CELAM), with its General Secretariat located in Bogat~; and con-sequently the establishment of the Latin-American Reli-gious Conference (CL-AR) in 1958. Passing to the second point, and omitting for brevity's sake anyreference to the collaboration furnished by Spain, Belgium, and other European countries, I shall recall only the meeting held in Washington, D. C., in November, 1959, between representatives of the hierarchies of the United States of America and Canada, and of Latin America, which prepared the foundations of a more in-tense and more closely organized apostolic cooperation of the two great North American nations in favor of those nations situated south of the Rio Grande. As a matter of fact, the Holy See has very great con-fidence, as regards a concerted "Catholic Action" in f.avor of Latin America, in the resources and the generosity of the Catholics of the United States and of Canada, that is to say, concretely, of the bishops, priests, and men and women religious. It is clear that, first of all and above all, this refers to resources of personnel, o~ men and women. In fact, this is the whole purpose of the presence among you of the Pontifical Commission for Latin America in my humble person; namely, to tell you how greatly the Holy See and the Pontifical Commission count upon the understanding and generosity of your religious institutes to aid Latin America; to urge you to respond heartily to its pressing appeal for this work, which the Holy See con-siders essential for the general interests of the Church; and, if necessary, to work together with you to prepare a plan of assistance according to the desires expressed by the Holy See. Of course, the Holy See is quite well aware of all that American religious communities--with their approxi-mately 2,700 members who are now in Latin America-- are already doing in this sense. Their spirit of helpfulness and collaboration has been admirably proven, and the Holy See is sincerely and deeply grateful. But the need is felt to request yet more from your generosity, just as more is being asked also from the generosity of other parts o[ the Church in favor of Latin America. Among the papers which Archbishop Samore had pre-pared for this meeting, I have found a reference to some possible objections, and I quote his own words in this re-gard: It may be objected:First, that just as numerous needs require your presence here in your own country: And I reply:This is true. You do great good here, and yet, in spite of your great numbers, there are not enough of you to meet the evergrowing exigencies of the modern apostolate. But it is also true that in comparison you are much more numerous in proportion to total Catholic population than your confreres in :Latin America. In the United States, for a total Catholic population of about 41,000,000 souls, you had in 1960 more than 21,000 i-eligious priests, 10,000 religious brothers ~rid 170,000 religi0iJs- 'si~ters. Certainly, for the more or less one hundred and eighty mil-lions of Catholics of Latin-America--a total more than four times greater than yours---we are very far from your total num-ber of more than 200,000 members of religious communities and institutes of perfection. You can see how great is the dispropor-tion. You, then, are rich, rich in personnel. And it is from you that personnel is Sought, in the confidence that the Lord will reward you for the generosity with which you give, by sending you ever more numerous vocations.Indeed, I know of particular cases in which, after the acceptance by a particular congregation, for a supernatural motive and at the cost of no little sacrifice, of new fields of apostolic endeavor, their vocations were actually muhi-plied in a geometrical progression. Thus once more the word of the Gospel was verified:Give and it will be given to you, good measure, pressed down, shaken together and flowing over . Second, it may be objected that you are already answering the appeal made in favor of other continents. This too is true. And here too you deserve the highest admiration for what you are doing. But it remains true that we ask from him who has. Be sure I shall never say:Go to Latin America rather than to other countries; I should be guilty of a serious fault and would feel remorse for it. But I do venture to say:Go, even more than you do now, in even greater numbers, to Latin America, without diminishing your efforts and your contribution in favor of other parts of the earth. These are the words of Archbishop Samore; and I be-lieve they remain valid and convincing. And thus we may pass on to the third and last point to consider; namely, what aid does the Holy See expect for Latin America from the religious communities of men and women of the United States, over and above that assistance already being given. I spoke earlier of a "plan"--a popular word nowadays, but truly appropriate in our case. That which the Ghurch feels it necessary to do for Latin America cannot be done through isolated and uncoordinated efforts, no matter how numerous or immediately efficacious they might be. The field is so vast, the urgency so great, and the danger of being circumvented, by enemy forces so real, that all such efforts must be added together, properly channeled, opportunely coordinated, and organically promoted. We could even speak of a real apostolic strategy, to assemble every possible° means, (which resuh always in less than those needed), so that none is lost, none underutilized; to determine the fundamental points of attack and defense; and to concentrate there a common effort so that, by God's grace, action may be prompt, timely, and effective. ÷ ÷ ÷ Latin America VOLUME 21, 1962 15 Msgr. Ca~aroli REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 16 We all recall that His Holiness Pope John XXIII, in, his discourse' to thos.e.attending the third meeting of the' CELAM in Rome, spoke of the opportuneness of setting up a double program for Latin America: a long-term program to solve the basic problems; and an immediate short-term one. Th~ basic solution would be that Latin America succeed in being self-sufficient for its own needs and, we may add, capable also of givi~ng a full and valu-able contribution towards the progress of the universal Church. The collaboration of outside forces should also be aimed towards this end; although immediate needs and exigencies must not be forgotten or neglected, nor yet be given precedence over the long-term basic solution. On its side, the Holy See saw to the establishmeni in 1958 of a "high command" for this effort; namely, the Pontifical Commission for Latin America, which has the duty of "studying in a unified way the fundamental prob-lems of Catholic life in Latin America, and to promote the closest collaboration between the various sacred con-gregations and offices interested in their solution." In their own respective spheres and ranks, the CELAM and CLAR have analagous purposes and aims. On its part, the hierarchy of the United States of America has set up in the National Catholic Welfare Conference a Latin America Bureau (LAB), with. a dynamic and ex-perienced director in the person of Father John J: Con-sidine, M.M. In order the better to coordinate the collaboration re-quested of your communities, it might appear opportune to instruct the Secretariats of your two Conferences to act directly or in cooperation with this Latin America Bureau as the circumstances dictate. In any case, the offices already set up~--together with the Pontifical representatives in the various countriesm can doubtless favor the study and effective realization of an opportune plan. In particular, it becomes possible to coordinate the requests of the ordinaries of each single country, so that the Pontifical Commission for Latin America can consider and evaluate their priority of im-portance and urgency, and recommend them to those or-ganizations or religious communities best ableto ~ope with them. In order that such a plan be realistic, it is of course necessary to know and study, not only the requests pre-sented, but also the means available to meet them. For this reason, the Pontifical Commission would be most greafful to this assembly if, on its part, it were to prepare at least the fundamental lines of a plan of its own. Such a plan should manifest approximately what means and personnel they will place at the disposal of the Holy See and the Pontifical Commission from the men and women religious of the United States of America. Archbishop Samore, in the name of'the Pontifical Com-mission, intended to propose to you a great Ten-Year Plan o[ aid to Latin America, by means of personnel and of foundations, thus corresp6iading to the.needs and requests already received and listed by the Latin America Bureau, and to those which will arrive later. The archbishop's personal knowledge of the generosity of American religous communities, confirmed by their actual contribution in so many diverse fields, encouraged him to make this pro-posal, which I now submit to you in the name of the Pontifical Commission: A Ten-Year Plan: for the decade of the 1960's whiEh may be decisive for the destiny of Latin America even in religious matters, with all the consequences for the Church either for good or evil. If an extraordinarily generous and wise effort is made within those ten years, we have every reason to expect that, with God's help, the battle will be won. A Great Plan: great on the part of the Holy See, of Latin America, and of the Church in general. Great, so the Holy See-hopes, in the contribution of the North American nations, so closely linked to those of Latin America. And great also on your part. This, then, is an appeal to the magnanimity of your communities, and presupposes generosity, self-sacrifice, lofty ideas and great love, love for the Church of Christ, love for God. The concrete content and scope of such a plan is some-thing you must be so kind as to study together among yourselves. Certainly, immense progress would already be made if every community represented here were formally to un-dertake to make, especially during the next ten years, a truly generous contribution of personnel and foundations in favor of the Church in Latin America. Naturally this should be a contribution within the limits of each com-munity's abilities, but also to the extent of your possibil-ities, measured in a great spirit of generosity, sacrifice, and love for the Church, and also measured against the re-quests presented in a plan organized and coordinated by the competent offices. A plan such as this would comprise several divisions, just a few of which we may briefly review: a) direct pastoral ministry, either in parishes, or in groups of parishes such as a deanery, or occasionally in entire ecclesiastical jurisdictions such as Prelatures Nul-lius, Vicariates, and Prefectures Apostolic; b) seminaries; c) educational activities, particularly the foundation of Latin America 17 4. 4. 4. Msgr. Casaroli REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 18 American schools, which are so necessary and so strongly desired in Latin America, in a special manner in order to combat the perilous propaganda spread by such schools directed by Protestant sects; d) catechetical activities; e) charitable activities, health programs, social service. This list is merely partial and indicative; but I feel that each of the communities repre~en.ted here today can al-ready see the part it could play therein, either to begin its apostolate in Latin America or to enlarge and intensify those works that several have already undertaken there. Is it worth while making more precise engagements? Is it opportune for each community to determine now a cer-tain percentage of its personnel which will be set aside for the service of the Church in Latin America? The judgment and the decision is left to you. However, interpreting the mind of the Pontifical Commission, I offer you an ideal toward which we reque.st every province to strive. This ideal is the following, namely, that each religious province aim to contribute to Latin America in the next ten years a tithe--ten percent--0f its present membership as of this current year. For example, if the present membership is 500, the ideal would be to con-tribute by the end of this decade fifty members for Latin America. Naturally, all will not be able to achieve this ideal. But it may be possible to reach at least ninety or eighty .per cent of it. For myself, I should like to add one further considera-tion: In no case, should personnel of what might be called inferior quality be set.aside for this work. The Church's cause in Latin America requires that your communities make the sacrifice and have the generosity to devote to it some of the best and most qualified of the vocations sent to them by the Lord. To you, and to the committee you will elect to consider and study this point of your program, let us leave the task of moving forward. The saintly and fatherly Pastor, whom God has set over His Church in our day, when speaking to the Superiors General of the Institutes of Perfection on March 25, 1960, said, "It is necessary that all those who wish to share in the Apostolic anxiety of Our heart, should make every effort and every sacrifice to meet the expectations of that great continent, Latin America." With that prayer, the Holy Father includes his gratitude and his benediction upon all those of his children who give a generous response. COLUMBAN BROWNING, C.P. Woman's Highest Fulfillment Every year hundreds of young women leave behind them family, friends, and the natural joys that might be theirs and enter the religious life. And every year hun-dreds of women go to their eternal reward after having lived their years in the service of God and their fellow man in religion. This vast army of generous women is one of the glories of Mother Church and one of the most con-vincing proofs of her divinity. Such generosity on so large a scale can find its explanation only in the grace of God that leads these women in their youth to the religious state and enables them to persevere in it until death. The world instinctively admires these many women who live their lives in so unselfish a fashion. A religious reception or profession ceremony fills the standers-by with awe and admiration, and they feel instinctively that there is something of God in what they witness. And indeed there is. A religious vocation and the response to that call is always the work of God. What many admiring idealists fail to realize is that the path the young religious enters upon is not an easy one. They admire the generosity of the young woman, but they are no( sufficiently aware of what that generosity costs her. In the practical order, these admirers fail to grasp how really human the young religious is and remains. An ele-ment of "angelism" pervades the thoughts of many out-siders about religious. This attitude is a tribute to the holi-ness of life that has produced it, but it still fails to grasp the genuine heroism of the religious. The young woman who enters religion is just as truly human and as fully a woman as are her classmates who enter the married state. Entering religion means that a young woman surrenders herself to God, making the com-plete gift of her entire self to Him. The greatest offering she makes is that of her womanhood itself, sublimating all her womanly instincts and ambitions to higher ends and 4. 4. 4- Columban Brown-ing. C.P., is the Rec-tor of St. Gabriel Monastery, 1100 63rd Street, Des Moines 11. Iowa. VOLUME 21, 1962 ]9 Columban Browning, C.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 20 purposes. It is precisely in this sacrifice of the natural for the supernatural that the greatest heroism is required, a heroism that cannot exist without the grace of God. And the greatest challenge that the religious faces is how to find in this sublimation the happiness and fulfilment of her deepest womanly aspirations. Because this matter is so.vital to the religious life and because understandably some religious meet with practi-cal difficulties in meeting this challenge, it requires and deserves a proper understanding of the factors involved. In this artidle we shall endeavour to discuss this problem and seek a practical solution to help religious meet the challenge. Factors of the Problem Understanding this problem requires asa starting point an appreciation of woman's nature itself. A full analysis of woman's nature could, of course, require volnmes. But let us here review only briefly the basic characteristics of woman. We can best understand woman's nature by considering it from the point of view of God's plan and purpose. And when we look for God's plan and.purpose we find the key to that plan in the fact that He has given her the body, the mind, and the heart of a mother. Pius XII high-lighted this fact when he said: Every woman is destined to be a mother; a mother in the physical sense of the word, or in a more spiritual and higher but no less real meaning. The Creator has disposed to this end the entire being of woman, her organism, and even more her spirit, and above all her exquisite sensibility. So that a woman cannot see and fully understand all the problems of human life otherwise than under the family aspect (Duties oI Woman in the Social and Political Order, Oct. 21, 1945). Woman is physically prepared for motherhood. She is also psychologically and emotionally disposed for it to the extent that motherhood is the most basic specific craving of a normal woman. Furthermore, she is altrocentric by nature, seeking her fulfillment in another whom she loves and by whom she wants to be loved. It is this that leads a woman to seek a husband and that qualifies her to bestow her undivided love on the child that is the fruit of her motherhood. Since motherhood is the basic orientation of her nature, it is not difficult to single out what is the most character-istic virtue of woman. It is the virtue that makes her motherhood possible and fruitful, the virtue of love. Her heart is filled with a mother's supply of love, and it is a love that must be given in some way. The ordinary young woman finds the object of this love in her husband and her children. In bestowing this love she finds her deepest fulfillment. Woman has by nature other characteristic virtues, of course. But without enumerating them let us merely say here that in her all the other virtues are the servants of love. In a woman who understands her nature propdrly and tries to practice intelligent!y.the vir~tue of love, all the other virtues will follow in due "bi-ddr. Withbt, t that,love at the center of things, the other virtues will also be im-possible to her. This is, in summary, the basic'pattern~of~woman's na-ture as planned by God. This nature is possessed by every normal woman and it is the thing that determines her thinking, her instincts, and her manner of acting. It is easy to see how a woman finds the normal fulfillment of her nature in an ideal marriage. The married woman finds in her husband someone to love and by whom to be loved. In her marriage there: is a complete giving of her-self and sharing of her love, including the physical shar-ing and giving that begets children. In her child, the married woman finds a further outlet for her love and a deep exhilaration of fulfillment. ~ But what about the woman who enters religion? She is and always remains as truly a woman as does her class-mate who marries. She has the same nature, physically, psychologically, and emotionally as her classmate. But she enters a state in which none of these ordinary means of fulfillment are present. She has no husband to love or who will love her, and no ohe in whom she finds a. omparable outlet on the same plane. She has no way of giving her-self in precisely the same way that the married woman has, nor will she ever enjoy the deeply satisfying experi-ence of physical motherhood. The question obviously arises: Is such a one destined inevitably to frustration and the impossibility of fulfill-ment? The answer is just as obvious. We simply cannot doubt that the religious woman, can find fulfillment of her womanly nature. The way of life that a sister lives finds its inspiration in the words and example of our Lord Himself. And the fruits of sanctity in the thousands of woman before her in the same way of life is proof enough that such a woman can find real fulfillment. Indeed, all we need as proof of this is to come' to know just one sister who has lived her religious life successfully. She radiates the best of womanhood to a degree that any other woman can only envy. Her life bears out the truth of the state-ment of Leon Bloy: "The holier a woman, the more she is a woman." Principles of Solution_ When we attempt to explain how a ~eligious can attain fulfillment, a twofold point of view presents itself. The first is the speculative point of view, or considering it + + + Woman's Fulfillment VOLUME 21, 1962 21 4. 4. otumban Browning, C.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 22 from abstract principles. The second a.pproach is from the practical plane. Speculatively, or in the abstract, the answer to the ques-tion is relatively simple. It may be stated this way: The religious woman sublimates all her noble womanly quali-ties and aspirations and finds fulfillment of all on a higher plane. In other words, she dedicates her womanhood in all its fullness to God. And the fulfillment that she fails to find naturally in marriage and motherhood, she finds supernaturally through a total giving of self to God. The love that makes her capable of being a good wife and mother she centers more exclusively on God. This love takes on a new dignity and richness in her dedicated state in that it is more supernatural. Her desire to be a mother finds its sublimation in that, through sacrificing physical motherhood, she achieves a spiritual motherhood toward all souls, and especially toward those whom she personally helps. Thus, on the supernatural plane, one that is richer in true and lasting goods, the religious sister finds an out-let for all her natural inclinations. And in so doing she attains a fulfillment that is really' higher and more reward-ing than is possible for the married woman. Pope Pius XII stated this very clearly in his encyclical on virginity: Finally, it may not be asserted, as some do, that the mutual help which is sought in Christian marriage is a more effective aid in striving for personal sanctity than the solitude of the heart, as they term it, of virgins and celibates. For although all those who have embraced a life of perfect chastity have de-prived themselves of the expression of human love permitted in the married state, nonetheless it cannot therefore be affirmed that because of this privation they have diminished the human personality. For they receive from the Giver of heavenly gifts something spiritual which far exceeds the mutual help which husband and wife confe~ upon each other. They consecrate themselves to Him who is their source, and who shares with them His divine life, and thus personality suffers no loss, but gains immensely. For who, more than the virgin, can apply to himself that marvellous phrase of the Apostle Paul: "I live, now not I; but Christ lives in me" (Sacra virginitas, NCWC edition, n. 39). As we stated before, this is treating the matter from the speculative, or abstract, point of view. And no one can question the validity of this statement of the question. The religious finds fulfillment on an higher plane, devot-ing her womanhood to higher things through the sacrifice of natural goods. When we turn to the discussion of the practical aspects of the same problem, we are guided, of course, by the principles just stated. But since on the practical plane we are concerned with how the individual may realize the ideal in her own life, we are immediately confronted with some difficulty. This difficulty arises from the fact that this higher fulfillment is supernatural. The area of the supernatural is an area of faith. Any supernatural living must be evaluated by principles of faith and all its rewards are supernati~ral. But'just~ as the supernatural life of grace does not destroy the soul's natural life and inclinations, so in our thinking the f~ict that we are guided by faith does not destroy our natural outlook and inclinations. In fact this natural outlook is often the more spontaneous one and needs to be super-naturalized by an act of the will. And it is precisely in the difficulty of maintaining a supernatural outlook on her life of dedication to God in its day by day unfolding that a problem can arise in the life of the individual religious. The goods that she has sacrificed are more tangible and can sometimes be more real to her just because they are natural. The supernatural goods she seeks are spiritual and intangible and can tend at times to be rather unreal to her. In the concrete, then, the conflict amounts to this: The religious is very conscious of her basic natural inclinations and knows that they are toward things that are very real to her. She has a clear idea of what a husband is and is awi~re of her innate desire to be loved by one. She knows what a baby is and feels the instinctive desire for her own baby. She is aware that she has sacrificed these natural goods in order to love and be loved by God and to become a mother of many souls spiritually. But these latter things she cannot see clearly because they are spiritual and super-natural. Sometimes they may appear very unreal to her as in times of greater darkness of soul or discouragement. The remedy in such a conflict is, of course, to use her will to apply the principles of faith to her life in its con-crete circumstances. She needs to remember that super-natural goods are of more worth. ~than natural ones, that goods are not to be evaluated only as they bear on this life, but in the light of eternity. It is in this way that the religious can preserve and deepen her basic spirit of dedi-cation to God. And in the process her faith will deepen enabling her to see the goods she seeks as all the more desirable and rewarding. The sting of sacrifice may always remain because natural inclinations always remain with us as long as we are in this world. But as faith grows, even the sacrifice can become a source of deep joy and peace. Christian tradition is full of evidence of this fact. A case in point is the love poems of St. John of the Cross. The themes of suffering and love are so intermingled in these poems as to be almost indistinguishable. The follow-ing verse is given as an example: 4- Womat~'$ Fulfillment VOLUME 21, 1962 ÷ ÷ olumban Browning~ .P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 24 0 cautery most tenderl O gash that is my guerdonl O gentle handl O touch how softly thrillingl Eternal life you render, Raise of all debts the burden And change my death to life, even while killingl (Poems of St. John of the Gross, translated by Roy Campbell, Penguin edition, p. 59) Sublimation in Practice A religious can easily understand that the principles stated above are true. She finds it easy to see that ideally the religious should find fulfillment through the sublima-tion of all that ig good in her womanly nature to higher goals. She has no difficulty either in seeing that there can be an amount of difficulty in actual practice. This comes from the fact that she is seeking goods that are seen only through faith while all around her she can see attainable goals of the human order that appeal to her. But because the transfer from theory to practice is not always easy, let us attempt to spell out a little more in detail what a reli-gious can do to help herself attain the goal for which she has sacrificed so much. As in all things else, so here, the proper attitude of mind is important. What a sister thinks about her way of life will determine in great part how successfully she lives it. And the attitude of mind that is so important here is that of faith. A faith that merely recognizes the principles stated above is not enough. A living spirit of faith has to be developed and deepened. Without this, the religious can never really attain what she is seeking. But when her faith is strong to the point of being an habitual attitude of mind, she will find in it the motives for living her life positively and happily. Regarding the need for and the role of faith in the consecrated woman, Father Perrin, O,P. says in his excellent little book, Virginity: By her physical constitution, also, and by her sensitiveness, woman is subject to variability and instability. Faith endows her with the stability of being supported by Him Who is the Savior and who changeth not. She is dependent upon Him who is peace both quieting and fulfilling. In feminine virginity the abundance and vigor of faith are more evident for more special reasons. It follows from St. Paul's words: "The head of the woman is the man" that unless she wishes to be a truncated being, a woman without a husband on earth must have Christ as her head (J. M. Perrin, O.P., Virginity [Westminister: Newman, 1955], p. 96). Guided by a spirit of faith, the sister must keep the deep conviction of the supremacy of the supernatural over the natural, of the eternal over the temporal. This means practically in her case that she is pursuing supernatural and eternal goods while the married woman is seeking what are more immediately natural and tem-poral goods. This does not mean to imply, of course, that the married woman is seeking only natural goods but merely that her immediate goals are natural and tem-poral. True, the married woman's, lqve for her husband will remain in heaven and be, a,;s0urce'o[ joy foi-,;he~ But it will be completely overshadowed by her love for God, The natural goods of marriage, which are the ones the re-ligious gives up when she enters religion, are primarily goods of this world. By contrast, the things that the re-ligious seeks are primarily eternal, Her grasp of them here on earth remains very limited but her faith will tell her that they are an anticipation of the union with God that is eternal in heaven, A religious needs a strong and persevering conviction of faith on this point or else she will begin to think too much of the things she has given up and that inevitably brings conflict. This same spirit of faith will show the religious ever more clearly the. necessity and the joy of loving Christ with all her heart. We have stated that love is woman's most characteristic virtue and that her love is something that she must give in some way. Pius XII tells us how the religious is to give her love: Certainly it is the love of Christ that ~arges a virgin to retire behind convent wails and remain there all her life in order to contemplate and love the heavenly Spouse more easily and without hindrance; certainly it is the same love that strongly inspires her to spend her life and strength in works of mercy for the sake of her neighbor (Sacra virginitas, NCWC edition, n. 39). The religious must also remember that since love always contains an element of suffering, this must necessarily be so in her life. In fact, this is all the more certain to be present in her life from the very fact that Christ is her Spouse. Regarding this Father Perrin says: Virginity, in sum, is too closely united with Christ, too near His tastes, too aware of what the service of redemption requires not to carry a profound imprint of the Cross. The union with Christ itself, undoubtedly, is enough to enable the virgin to participate in the mortification of Jesus Christ . The willing-ness of virginity for the mystical union will set the sign of the Cross on the whole life, something necessary to remember in order to understand many of the pages of hagiography at their just value (Perrin, op. cit., p. 103). ÷ Could it be that the difficulty that some meet with in ÷ their efforts at sublimation comes principally from their ÷ failure to grasp in a practical way the need for suffering Woman's in the giving of their love? These would do well to recall t~ullltlraent the many ways in which a mother suffers in the giving of her love and in the full implications of her motherhood. It may unquestionably be said that to the degree that VOLUME 21, 1962 25 + + Columban Browning, C~P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 26 the religious grows in the personal love for our Lord, to the same degree will she attain the higher fulfillment she seeks: "Christian virginity is devised for love as the lungs are devised for air" (Perrin, op. cit., p. 99). But when we say~ this, it is important to remember that the love we refer to is not the predominantly emotional feeling that is some-times called love. This type of love may have a great part in leading a young woman into marriage, but even there, it is not enough for happiness in marriage. The religious, too, may sometimes experience something of this feeling but it is not the love that can and must nourish her life. That love is a higher supernatural love that can be entirely independent of any feeling and that is far more enduring and rewarding. It is a love, in other words, that cannot be gauged by how one reacts to things on a given day but by perseverance in self-giving. After all that we have said, must we conclude that the religious woman must free herself from all those qualities of love that we think of as precisely human and womanly? By no means. It is upon her human womanly qualities that these supernatural qualities are based. For all the supernatural faith and love that must animate her, the religious must still remain thoroughly human in the best sense of the word. All that is good in her nature must be developed and used for the glory of God and the good of others. She must use the warmth of her human love es-pecially in her efforts to win others to God and in her dealings with her fellow religious. But at the same time she must remember that this human love has been dedi-cated to God to serve a higher supernatural end. That such an ideal is possible of attainment is clear from the following words of Pius XII: Chastity and virginity (which imply also the inner renuncia-tion of all sensual affection) do not estrange souls from this world. They rather awaken and deepen the energies needed for wider and higher offices beyond the limit of individual families. Today there are many teaching and nursing sisters who, in the best sense of the word, are nearer to life than the average person in the world (Pius XII, Apostolic Exhortation to the Interna-tional Congress o[ Nuns Devoted to the Teaching of Girls, Sept. 13, 1951). The religious has ever within her reach all the means to foster this spirit of faith and love that will enable her to find fulfillment. The sacraments, prayer, spiritual reading, and other spiritual exercises enter daily into the life of a religious. Nourishing herself faithfully at these sources of grace, she can daily strengthen her faith and deepen her love. And as she comes to live more on the supernatural level, she will tend to think less of the na-tural joys she has given up in terms of sacrifice. She will rather think of them as a small price to pay for the deep happiness she finds. Her craving to bestow her love will find its deepest fulfillment in loving God and his children. Her desire to be loved will come to rest in the calm as-surance that God's love for her is constant and unchang-ing. Her motherly instinct will find its fullest outlet as she sees herself as the mother" of~many souls spiritually. An amount of struggle may still remain for the simple reason that she will always retain her basic natural orien-tation. But perseverance will bring to the religious a ful-fillment known only to the woman who has surrendered her womanhood in its entirety to God. ÷ ÷ ÷ Woman's Fulfillment VOLUME 21, 1962 MOTHER MARY ANTHONY Cornelia Connelly and the Spiri of Suffering Obedience Mother MaryAn-thony, S.H.C.J. teaches English at Rosemont College, Rosemont, Pennsyl-vania. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Cornelia Connelly,1 who founded the Society of the Holy Child Jesus (S.H.C.J.) in England in 1846, saw her work spread to America in 1862 when the first foundation was made in Pennsylvania. Today, a hundred years later, the Society has twenty-eight houses in this country. On the occasion of the hundredth anniversary of the Society in this country, this article is offered as a slight memorial to her founder. The heritage of any religious family is a living tradi-tion distinctive in starting point and attitude (an area hard to define), less so in means, toward a goal recogniz-able in generally accepted terms. The initial channeling is traced by the instrument God has chosen and guided first to discern, then to execute a pattern which against the ground of particular time and circumstance will manifest in new detail God's plan for "filling up what is wanting in the sufferings of Christ." Uniqueness resides in the individuality of the instrument, the religious" founder, and in his or her perception of the role of the new insti-tute within the larger grouping that is the Church. This perception, however it may communicate itself person-to-person from the founder to the ever widening circle of disciples, is ultimately formulated in the rule of the con-gregation where the solemn ratification of Mother Church safeguards it from distortion. But the sense of mission, of the public life, as it were, of the fully integrated society presupposes a deep interior-ity, a known way to God that constitutes the individual 1 This article has been approved for publication by the Reverend Desmond McCarthy, promoter of the faith, Diocese of S6uthwark, England. spirituality o[ its members. Personal sanctification and the salvation of souls are the twin goals of religious pro-fession, and the former is the matrix. In what concerns the intimate relations of the soul with God the greatest delicacy is only fitting. Prescriptive norms as such can point the path, then set the soul free to follow '~the draw-ing of that Love and the voice of that Calling." Lived example best helps the hesitant. The working out of the unit figure in the design, seen as God .sees it harmonious and whole, is learned indeed by heart, by loving study of the actual steps to perfection of the one who first lived the teachings cherished now by a growing spiritual family. Cornelia Connelly (1809-1879), foundress of. the So-ciety of the Holy Child Jesus, gives her children just such guidance--a rnle distilled from praye.rful experience and tried in the fire of the unitive life amidst the demands of the teaching apostolate. To her words then for definitive statement, to her life for burning confirmation. And in both the same pattern 'is discernible--love, suffering, obe-dience (conformity to God's will). These come through consistently as motive, means, and end. According to the end and. spirit, of our special, vocatlon,. mysteries of the most subhme teaching are to be found ~n the humble and hidden life of the Holy Child Jesus, in which God manifests in a most wonderful manner the .treasures of His Mercy and of His boundless Love. In that Divine Child, en-closed for nine months in the womb of His Virgin Mother, born in a stable, exposed to suffering and poverty, fleeing into Egypt, hidden and labouring in a humble workshop, is found our Divine Master, our Model and our Spouse; and from the living wells of His perfect humility, His divine charity, and His ab-solute obedience, we are to receive the spirit of the Holy Child Jesus (Rule S.H.C.J., par. 2). In this school of Divine Science, contemplating the Eternal Wisdom in the lowliness of His Humanity, we should seek to attain the knowledge of our own nothingness and misery, and that of His infinite love and mercy; we should learn to uproot the evil inclinations of our corrupt hearts, and to cultivate therein the germ of practical mortification, studying in the ex-ample of a hidden God the sweetness of suffering and contempt, that we may thus rejoice to labour and to die with Him in the constant practice of poverty, chastity, and obedience (Rule S.H.C~J., par. 3). In the rule on humility (adapted from that of St. Ig-natius), we are bidden. "with our whole strength to ac-cept and desire what Christ our Lord loved and em-braced" to the extent of wishing "to suffer insults, false witness, and injuries., through the desire of imitating our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ and of being clothed with His shame," so conforming our lives to His. The order and emphasis are seen to be constant. Love is. motive, stressed as knowledge that moves the will, not as emotion. Suffering is means, chosen because of the exam-ple of Christ, never in isolation. Obedience is end, per- + + + Cornelia Connelly VOLUME 21, 1962 29 fect union in the conformity of our will with God's. The rule on obedience reiterates this forcefully: "All should give themselves up to perfect obedience, recognising the Superior whoever she may be in the place of Christ our Lord"; "they ought to have before their eyes God, our Creator and Lord, for love of Whom they obey His crea-ture"; "All should be prompt at the voice of the Superior as at the voice of Christ our Lord"; "Let each one con-vince herself that those who live under obedience ought to let themselves be ruled and guided by Divine Providence through their Superiors"; "the Sisters should endeavour to accustom themselves to regard not her whom they obey, but rather Him for Whose sake they all obey, Christ our Lord"; "Each one attending to her own duties and office should patiently await, as from the hand of God, what-ever may be decided for her." A directive at once comprehensive and specific opens the purely ascetical Chapter 19 of the Rule: From the Hidden Life of our Divine Spouse we should learn the value we ought to set on prayer and the interior life, making them the basis of our spiritual perfection, and the fountain whence we should draw help and strength to perform in a perfect manner the duties of charity in our active life. ÷ ÷ ÷ Mother Ma~y Anthony REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 3O This focuses the attention of Mother Connelly's daughters on the phase of our Lord's life which is least immediately suggestive of suffering, but from the earliest references the association is unmistakable--"In that Divine Child. ex-posed to suffering and poverty., is found our Model"; "studying in the example of a hidden God the sweetness of suffering and contempt." Love and obedience are in-evitably linked with childhood; what insight joins to these suffering, even makes it central? A grasp perhaps of the utter emptying--exinanivit seipsum---of the Incarna-tion, most compellingly evident in the dependence of the Child. This would indeed be best appreciated by one who had known natural motherhood. We recall the image of that Pieth of February 2, 1840--C6rnelia, the grieving mother, holding the body of her two-year old son. He had died in her arms after severe burns resulting from an accident at play near a vat of boiling sugar at their Louisiana home. This incident had followed swiftly upon an oblation made in response to a sudden inspiration of grace. Over-whelmed with a sense of gratitude and wellbeing in the joy of home life and the fervor of conversion, she had cried: "O my God, if all this happiness be not for Thy glory and the good of my soul--take it from me. I make the sacrific!!" This scene prompts further consideration of Cornelia Connelly's unusual vocation and its acceptance in the spirit of the suffering obedience of Christ. Her unques-tioning docility to ecclesiastical advisors who considered genuine her husband's call to the priesthood and coun-seled the separation it entailed, was truly grounded in the faith of Abraham. She knew as no one else could know the heart of the man who wa~ h~r hfsband.' Did-she:foresee his defection? She knew as no one but a mother could how this strange step would scar her children. Even had the wise and generous provision made for them been carried out, the three living Connelly children would have had much to adjust to in their uprooted and anomalous situa-tion. Mercifully hidden from Cornelia at the time of these decisions was the mad violation of agreement by which their father removed them from her influence and suc-ceeded in estranging them from her and from their Catho-lic faith.2 There was no ram in the thicket for Cornelia. But God raised up children as from the ashes of her holocaust. Her apostolate of education was chiefly among the young, those in whom she bade her daughters "constantly strive to see Jesus," and whom they are to lead "to taste and to embrace the sweet yoke which He offers them." Her choice of the Epiphany as the day on which members of her Society renew their vows points up this double mani-festation, the recognition and response of self-oblation, and the giving of Christ in the self-giving of their lives. Nor may we overlook the relation of the first Epiphany to the slaying of the innocents. To dwell exclusively on the sacrificial aspects of Cor-nelia Connelly's life and teachings is to miss the most dis-tinctive if most paradoxical characteristic of her spirit, its joyfuI simplicity. A brief re-examination ofthe texts al-ready quoted discloses this note: "studying in the example of a hidden God the sweetness of suffering and contempt, that we may thus rejoice to labour and to die with Him," "to taste and to embrace the sweet yoke which He offers." Elsewhere in the Rule we read: "All should cultivate a spirit of joy and spiritual contentment"; "the whole coun-tenance should express cheerfulness and peace." We have here the deep and resonant gaudiurn of Ad-vent, the sense of ancient sacrifice fulfilled and hope brought to fruition, the joy of the mother in her expected child. Cornelia's womanly gift of creating a home as focal point and radiant center of natural happiness has been transformed into Mother Connelly's sure supernatural ~ The Earl o[ Shrewsbury and the Borghese family were to see to the education of the Connelly boys, Mercer (already at Stonyhurst) and Frank when old enough. The daughter, Adeline, was to remain with her mother. Pierce Connelly took all three to Italy with him when he lost the lawsuit by which he hoped to regain power over Cornelia. 4- ÷ ÷ Corneliu ¢onnelly VOLUME 2~ ~962 instinct for making a religious house or noviceship ol: school a Nazareth whose inmates grow in age and grace. with liberty of spirit and loving guidance. It is less saying "no" to nature than "yes" to God. Positive joyous accept.~ ance of God's way made known through ordinary means, this is the heritage of tlie Sisters of the Holy Child. ÷ ÷ ÷ Mother Mary Anthony REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 32 CHARLES B. TRUNDLE, s.J. I, ove and Perfect Chastity God is love, wrote St. John the evangelist. Because this is true, only those who love can possess God during this life and the next. To love is therefore man's greatest necessity: so it always was and so it will always be. Love is the key to life, or better, it is life itself, A man must love if he is to have life in him; this is God's law, a law based on God's own nature and therefore universal, eternal; and necessary. God did not conceal this law from mankind; he did not leave it to chance for man to discover. He did not say: "I will let men find out for themselves the secret of enter-ing into friendship with Me. Those who stumble upon this truth and live according to it, I will reward; those who fail, I will punish." God's love could not let mankind be ignorant in a matter of such importance. The goodness of God moved Him, rather, to establish a school of love, a school almost all men would desire to enter, a school teaching lessons most men would be will-ing to learn. This divinely founded school is marriage. Without marriage, it has been said, most men and women would not achieve the degree of love of which they are capable. And without marriage few children would re-ceive the love which is essential not only for their well-being but even for their continued existence. What kind of love is learned in the school of marriage? It is the love that typifies the mature adult; namely, a love of someone else for his sake, not for one's own. It is the love that characterizes God Himself who loves not that He may receive but that He may give. On the human level perhaps the purest expression of this love is that of a parent for his child. It is this kind of love which is man's best preparation for heaven, for it makes man most like God. It is certain that such a high degree of unselfish love is not to be reached without a long training; accordingly, ÷ ÷ ÷ Charles B. Trundle, S.J. teaches religion at the University of Scranton, Scranton 10, Pennsylvania. VOLUME 21, 1962 Ch~r/~s B. Trund/~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS God has' established some preparatory stages through which human beings normally pass. First, there is the complete self-love of the infant. This is good and a part of God's plan. The baby is just getting his foothold on earth; if he did not make known his hunger, his discom-fort, his needs by day and night, his very existence might be threatened. Soon.the child's love breaks the bonds of self and begins to include an ever widening field of persons: his parents, his brothers and sisters, the neighbors, his classmates, the members of his "gang," and after a brief period of aver-sion the opposite sex. There are, however--and this is to be expected---varying amounts of self-love in all these relationships. Some of them are heavily freighted with a love of gratitude; that is, the love is based on what the other has done or can do for the youth rather than for the other person's worth in himself. In the usual course of events, with the development of sexual maturity in all areas (emotional, intellectual, and spiritual as well as physical), one falls in love with a particular member of the other sex. Normally this love culminates in the establishment of a permanent relation-ship between the two, the state that we call marriage. The preliminary steps have been taken and the two now begin (if their schooling is to be successful) to live the profession vowed at the wedding, to love the other more than self. The couple is happy to express their inner union in a new way by becoming physically one (a unity which God selected as a fitting symbol of the union of Christ and His Church). The pair may be content with this new growth in love, but God has even further plans for them. Nor-mally, he blesses their bodily union with an extension of their love for each other: a new life, their child, is con-ceived and born. Almost without choosing it, the father and the mother are now led to new heights 6f unselfish love. Economies are made, painfully perhaps, but basically in a willing manner, in the areas of recreation, clothing, food, and so forth. Time schedules are altered to fit in with the needs of the newcomer. It may seem, in fact, that one's whole life is revolutionized by the arrival of the infant son or daughter. For the first time, perhaps, many parents will come to know what it means to love another without thought for oneself. An even further development of love is possible, how-ever. The parents' interests and concerns widen con-stantly with the growth of their children. They become attentive to the educational opportunities of their com-munity; they may get deeply involved in the scouts, in Little League baseball, taking on the role of coach or den mother and so forth. Decent literature, safety patrols, medical advances are important to them, as are a hundred other areas touching their child's life. Going along with all this is usually a widening of the heart, a breaking down of old confining walls to extend the limits of love to more and more of God's children. The father who has learned his iessons well in.the school of love can sympathize deeply with other parents who may lose their sons and daughters in a dreadful fire; he can feel for other families who are burdened by poverty, poor health, or other trials. He will wish to help them, if he can, by contributing of his own time and money. Wider and wider his heart becomes until it is much more like the heart of God; until it becomes perfect as his Father's who makes the sun to shine upon both just and unjust and the rain to fall upon the fields of both sinner and saint. Not all are willing, of course, to learn in the school of love; some rebel against its teacher, fail miserably at its lessons. Whatever the cause of this failure may be (very often, perhaps, because someone failed the learner at an earlier stage), God does not wish it to be so. There is nothing new in what has been said up to this point. What bears highlighting is this: the role and pur-pose of sex on the path to love which is traveled by the ordinary man and woman. If neither sex offered the other deeply satisfying intellectual, spiritual, and emotional completion, how few there would be who would enter the married state with its permanent obligations and bur-dens. If there were no physical attraction between male and female, how few couples would be herioc or unselfish enough to bring children into this troubled world! The divine strategy, then, should be noted well. God places in mankind strong appetites, powerful desires which win his heart and encourage his mind and will to make such com-mitments as they would never make by themselves. God does not intend marriage as an end in itself, therefore, but rather as a means to an end; that is to say, as a setting or school in which most men and women best learn how to love. This is one reason why every marriage, whether its participants are aware of it or not, possesses great dignity in the eyes of God. If the married state is dear to God because it can help man become more God-like, the state of consecrated chastity is far more precious to Him. And for this reason: the religious professes to begin his life where the married may be said to end his. By making the three vows of poverty, obedience, and chastity the religious cuts him-self off from the great obstacles to universal love. He enters a religious community so that he may be able to devote himself more completely to the works of love. He sacrifices the privilege of having his own family so that"he ÷ ÷ Love and Perfect Chastity VOLUME 21, 1962 Charles B. Trundle REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS may be a father, a brother, a sister, or a mother to all. He will never meet or serve all people, of course, but he does pray for all and he does make himself free and well-disposed to receive wholeheartedly anyone God may send to him in the course of his apostolic life. Freed from the duty and privilege of loving exclusively one husband or wife and six or a dozen children, he professes to give his love to every soul as if it alone were his only concern. Needless to say, some religious fail .in their own school of love and most of them must work for years to fulfill the ambitious goal they chose with God's grace at the time of their first vows. Be that as it may, the religious life in itself is aimed more directly at loving and serving God and all mankind, and this is one reason for its greater dignity in the eyes of both God and man. Since the young religious bypasses marriage in order to place himself further along the.road to God, he has no need for the God-designed means that lead to the married state; namely, sex. Nevertheless, he possesses it. God does not usually work miracles; he does not tamper with or mutilate His creatures. Accordingly, the sexual faculties (spiritual, intellectual, emotional, and physical) may be expected to be operative in the religious as in any other person of comparable age, education, background, and so on. As a matter of fact, because of a religious' greater sen-sitivity to beauty, generosity, and goodness, these faculties may be even more active than in his counterpart in the world. No religious may expect, therefore, to escape the strongly appealing call of marriage and of all the legiti-mate activities that comprise it. The responsibility for this is not his, but God's. For it was He who designed the faculties and it was His wisdom which added the pleasure to their use so that man would be led willingly to the grand purposes God had in mind for him. This attrac-tion, then; may be expected as a normal experience for most people; it is part of God's general plan for the hu-man race. It is unfortunate that some religious do not have a wholesome attitude ~regarding this very important area of life. One hears the complaint from those tempted; "But all this is so incompatible with my state in lifel" It is only one small, false step to that most disco.uraging conclusion: "Therefore, I am not a good relig!ous." How much more realistic and better would it be to say: "How important it must be to lovel Here is God, remind-ing me through faculties He designed for this very pur-pose that I must be sure to love if I am to have any part with Him. If others need this reminder, how much more do I, for love is. my chosen profession." Better still, he may even voice these thoughts as a prayer: "Dear God, I thank You for this reminder of the necessity of love in every life. But You Yourself have in-vited me to love in a higher and more Christlike way. Give me the grace, please, to carry off my gift to You suc-cessfully and without tension, worry, or fear. Never for-get, Lord, that it is Your doin~ ~h~it I f~el~th~ :appeal of Your school of love in the world; it is Your doing, too, that I have left the world to love You more. You have placed me between the two: I know that You will pro-vide." 4. 4" 4. Love and Peryect Chastity VOLUME 21, 1962 37 PHILIP C. ROND, M.D. Early Recognition of Emotional Illness Dr. Rond, 1500 W. Third Avenue, Co-lumbus 12, Ohio, is Chairman of the Section of Psychia-try at Mr. Carmel Hospital, Colum-bus, Ohio. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS For many--too manymyears there existed the notion that there was no need to be concerned with mental illness in religious because it was extremely rare. Then, too, prayer and devotion were considered a panacea for emo-tional ills such as worry, depression, and so forth; no one needed special medico-psychological help if he or she would just pray fervently. So, besides denial, devotion was prescribed by non-medical persons as a substitute prescrip-tion for medico-psychological help, in order to preserve our religious resources as intact as possible for the higher calling and services they provide. The Medical Corps of the military has the objective "to maintain the fighting strength" using the best 'available techniques. This motto could be modified for religious, "to maintain the devotional strength" using the.best avail-able techniques. This latter would include early recogni-tion of emotional troubles and/or the need for specialized help, from non-medical religious superiors and personnel, and psychiatry. Religious are men and women from all socio-economic backgrounds who carry with them into their spiritual lives their own personality traits, molded by their experiences prior to entering the religious community. Because of these features they may at one time or another develop emotional conflicts with or without associated physical complaints requiring medico-social-psychological aid. First aid could come from within the community, from those trained to handle these conditions. Later, but not too late, .outside professional help should be obtained, especially while the religious is still at his or her daily duties. The needed professional medico-psychological help for the concomitants of their tensions can relieve them of the suffering which makes them pQor community associates and inefficient attendants to their religious duties. The early signals of emotional distress can be put into two main categories: namely, those of habit pattern (be-havior) disturbances, and of physical (bodily) disturbances. The early recognition of these signals depends upon the open-minded, unprejudiced acceptance of emotional prob-lems as specific, actual entities by those in authority in religious communities. So, whileywe d~s~ribe sigfig:' for Which to watch, we are trusting that those who should be alert are not denying the importance of being attentive to them. Dividing the early symptoms into two categories does not exclude the possibility of overlapping of these symptoms. However, if there is alertness to signals from one or the other of these two areas, the sharper will be the perception of significant clues. First, regarding symptoms in the behavior category area, these are based upon knowledge of the individual prior to the devolopment of the changes. Every good leader knows his or her personnel well enough to have such a baseline of reference. The moving of disturbed personnel without the transmission of sufficient personality information puts the receiving superior in the unfortunate position of not having a baseline of normality from which to evaluate, and often precludes early proper action in a given case. Unprejudiced personality assessments should accompany every normal transferee. Disturbed personnel should be moved only with considerable planning in which the in-dividual's needs take precedence over the superior's or the community's needs. Knowing individuals' basic behaviorisms or habit pat-terns, we can proceed to compare them with themselves (not ourselves or others) periodically, casually, thought-fully. The very early signals are almost too numerous to mention but consist of such things as the development of a persistent inability to arise easily at the appointed time or go to bed and to sleep at the appointed hour; a change in eating habits, in appetite; a restlessness, a diminution in attention span; irritability, fussiness; nervousness at devo-tions; inability to perform the usual duties assigned; de-velopment of nervous habits such as eye twitching, fore-head wrinkling, na~al sniffing, head jerking, foot tapping, leg rocking; withdrawing, overaggressiveness, moodiness, silliness, and so forth. In the early stages help is almost 100% effective in stop-ping the progress of the disorder and preventing it from going on to a serious condition. At this point the relief may come from discussing matters with a wise superior. Early referral for professional guidance, diagnosis, and advice, can still keep the role of the therapist in the com-munity, with the superior, or his or her appointed rep-resentatives, with the psychiatrist acting only in the con-sultant role. These early behavioral changes are the result of an individual's efforts to deal with an anxiety that is Emotional Illness VOLUMI~ 21~ 1962 Philip . RoncI REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 40 new or too intense, or accumulative from a number of factors uniting with a crescendo effect. The new behav-iorisms may not necessarily be bad in themselves but they indicate a serious conflict situation which, while un-healthy, is often not so deeply fixated as to require in-tensive short or long term psychotherapy, removal from the current setting for therapeutic attention, or any medicine. An ounce of prevention---early recognition-- may make it possible to provide help from within the community. It is to be anticipated that early recognition of signifi-cant behavior changes will improve, as acceptance of them as meaningful is well understood in the community. There are those who are referred to as having always been a little different. However, there is always a point where it should not be accepted without special consideration. Then there are those about whom it is said, "They were 'so normal,' we just couldn't believe it." In the first instance delay with help may occur because "it's expected" behavior. In the second case people may not believe their eyes, until the behavior becomes so bizarre or unacceptable that action must be taken. If we will look on the early behavioral and/ or physical symptoms as ways of asking for help we can justify an earlier move to assist. This way of asking for help results from the fact that the symptoms, a resolution arrived at quite automatically, are quite indifferent to the pressures of social mores. They are admissible because they operate so smoothly within the ego function as not to have to be denied or rejected. Many neurotics are probably happy for the development of a physical symptom be-cause this offers them a reason (acceptable) to seek medical aid. Purely psychological symptoms do not warrant seek-ing help for many because of the social stigma attached even by intelligent people. The second category of body signals or disturbances can and do involve all the bod~, systems and organs, heart, lungs, muscles, bones and joints, excretory system, and sensory system. The specific body complaints are, like the behavioral ones, too numerous to mention, The social-emotional etiology of them is the item to be stressed. Too often insistence by the individual, and/or the superior, that the physical complaint has a structural origin which will be found, has delayed recovery, prolonged incapacity and led to many lost hours of fervent, undistracted devo-tion the world requires so badly. Early medical evaluation is very important for the individual and for eliminating lost devotional hours. The body signals, as the behavior signals, are recognized by their newness in the individual, their lack of responsive-ness to the usual medical procedures, their intensity, and often a bizarre quality in the complaint or in the relating of it; by their association or tie-in with a gradually built up source of emotional tension which reaches a peak, or the sudden development of an emotional charge which has overwhelmed the personality defenses. The signals may be recognized by anyone. Those especial!y close to the situation should be respected When the~ report" shch ob-servations to their superiors who are a little more removed from the case. Early recognition usually implies quick recovery. Better to have pursued a false early signal with a medico-psycho-logical checkup which proves, negative than to have de-layed and produced a medico-psychological cripple with associated impaired devotional capabilities. As the supe-rior and his or her staff develop a competency in counsel-ing, one would expect much relief from the tension effects for the human individual in the religious life and com-munity living. Then the early recognition of signals of emotional turmoil will mean even better results, reflected in a maintenance of a greater operational devotional strength and capacity. Early recognition of emotional dis-orders also must include spotting the person in a com-munity who, because of his or her position, may be the precipitating cause, in oneor more other individuals, of emotional crises with their behavioral and/or bodily com-plaints. The precipitators often are blind to their un-healthy faculty, but many, with help, can see what they do. If insight cannot be gained, removal often is as neces-sary as removal of a focus of infection in the body. In conclusion, early recognition of the signs of emo-tional illness involves co~nparison of the religious behavior and/or physical status with his or her previous behavioral habits and physical state. This may be done by peers or superiors. It requires an open-mindedness about such con-ditions being possible and acceptable and treatable ill-nesses. The treatment of such conditions will vary depending upon the intensity of the distnrbance and the facilities and capabilities of those in the community. Referral for minor emotional problems to the psychiatrist will diminish as the skills in the community to handle them develop. But until such trained personnel are available within the re-ligious community early referral for medico-psychological help should be too early rather than too late. Emotional Illness VOLUME 21, lq62 41 JAMES MICHAEL LEE Notes Toward Lay Spirituality 4. 4. .I. Dr. Lee, 217 Wash- ~ngton Street, Hart-ford 6, Connecticut, ~s a member of thi~ faculty of St. Joseph College, West Hart-ford, Connecticut. "~EVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 42 Like every practicing lay Catholic the world over, I went to Mass last Sunday. Nothing unusual about that. And there was nothing unusual about the sermon either. The preacher gave rather clear instructions on how the layman interested in saving his soul should act in the world. He recalled the story of Moses and the Edomites (Num 20: 14-21). The great Israelite leader wished to pass through the land of Edom en route to the Promised Land. He therefore sent a message to the Edomite King saying: "Kindly let us pass through your country. We will not cross any fields or vineyards, or drink any well water, but will go straight along the royal road without turning to the right or to the left until we have passed through your territory." The priest then told us that this passage should serve as the rule of life for all Catholics. Laymen should pass directly on the royal road to heaven and should nei-ther look around at the world nor enjoy its pleasures. Like many a practicing. Catholic the world over, I did some spiritual reading last Sunday. Nothing unusual about that. And there was nothing unusual about the con-tent of the book either. The spiritual writer exhorted his readers to steel themselves against the things of this world so that they may attain glory in the next. He warned that Christians can grow closer to God only by flying directly to Him, and that this flight would be made impossible if we concern ourselves with earthly things. This is standard spiritual fare, and Catholic lay people have been and still are subjected to it from pulpit and page. This approach views the spiritual life as a system of defenses against a hostile world which is literally hell-bent on our destruction. The higher we advance in the spiritual life, the more sturdy will be our defenses. If only the world could be eliminated, then would we attain God! But it is obvious that we cannot eliminate the world as it exists out-side of ourselves. We can make repeated acts of the will saying, "World, cease to existI' but the stubborn world re-mains despite our strongest will acts. The only other course of action, therefore, is to eliminate the world as it exists within ourselves. This can be accomplished by con-stantly directing our thoughts away from the world and focusing our attention on a~n0n~orldly reality, such as God as He is in heaven. In this way the world.will cease to become a part of us, and', if we are vigilant and steadfast, we will attain a state of otherworldliness. This approach to lay spirituality has at least four major defects, any one of which is sufficient to cast serious doubts on its validity as a means of attaining perfection. These four include psychological unsoundness, existential un-soundness, unsuitability, and lack of historical basis. Cer- .tainly this almost exclusively negativistic approach does violence to our humanity. We cannot escape our meta-physical situation. We were made to see, to touch, to hear. Without these our mind would wither, dry up. Over and over again St. Thomas reiterates the necessity of contact with the world outside of us if we are to come to an aware-ness of ourselves. Indeed we know ourselves precisely by knowing others. Our minds and senses were given to us not to negate or deny the real, but rather, as Ghrist did, to draw all things to ourselves and thus to God Man has a double task, namely to enrich himself by expanding him-self so as to take in all reality, and to enrich reality by re-deeming it. All baptized Catholics are other Christs, and as such it is their task to share with Him in the redemption of all things. Man confronts reality as a co-redeemer, as Mouroux has observed. Just as the grass became a bit greener because Christ walked the earth~ so it should be-come greener still because we have walked the earth. ality not only has a duty to us, but we also have a duty to reality. This reciprocal obligation and enrichment cannot be fulfilled by shutting the world out, but rather by letting it flood in and inebriate us. "To be a Christian is to carry the whole world in your heart," said Zundel rightly. The liturgy is an excellent example of how the Church uses the senses to bring the outside world into the wor-shiper, to fill him to the bursting point with sensations of every sort. The beautiful vestments, the altar with its tabernacle and linens, the movement of the ministers all fill the worshiper with visual delight. Gorgeous singing, whether pain chant or polyphony, fills the room with its resonance and melody while the powerfully fragrant smell of the incense wafts about and clings tenaciously, to both building and nostrils. The Church opens to us the beauty of God's world, so that we may fill ourselves to satiety. Ought we not, then, open ourselves to the world? This exclusively negativistic approach to lay spiritual living is also unsound from an existential point of view. Lay Spirituality VOLUME 21, 1962 43 lames M. Lee R~V|EW FOR RELIGIOUS 44 Did not God'create the world? If He did, if He really did, and if creation is continuous and ongoing as the theolo-gians .say, then Godis somehow intimately in that world. Every cause is somehow in its effect. God is in the world more than just by power, just as the composer is in his symphony more than just by his creation of it. This is not pantheism, but rather a realization of the deep .bond be-tween God and His world. Certain of the Greek Fathers were very conscious of God's intimacy in and with the world. All things sing with God, to paraphrase Aristotle. The world is not evil; it is worldliness that is evil. World-liness is a psychological state of man's mind about the world; it is an inordinate, disproportionate love of the world. The world, God's world, cannot be blamed for its misuse in man's mind. God has given us the world so that by it we may return to Him--not in spite of it, but pre-cisely through it. Indeed it can be said that without the world we cannot approach God except by infused con-templation, which is granted only to a very few. If the world were so e,~il, then why will God restore it to man after the resurrection of the body? The world, is man's natural environment. I~ he but lets it be, it can become his supernatural environment also. But for this to come to pass he must look at the worl, d with the eyes of Christ, not with the eyes of Jansenius. The work of that great French Jesuit of this century, Teilhard de Chardin, has done much to give Catholics 'a proper vision of the world. By placing Christ squarely in matter, Chardin has effected a revolution in the spiritual life and in so doing has made the most profound theologi-cal advance Of the century. Chardin did not say that Christ was matter, but rather that He permeated matter. Conse-quently the world deserves our love and respect for the God-soaked reality it is. Man can accept the world, add to it by his co-redemptive faculty or detract from it by giving it.attributes it does not possess. The latter is worldlinessi Strangely, we take away from the dignity of the world when we add to it that which it does not possess. The Chardinian revolution bids us face the magnificent world for what it really is, not run away from it and call this shrinking sanctity. The exclusively negativistic approach to lay spirituality is .further defective because it is almost totally unsuitable to the layman's life in the mode and manner in which he lives it. Unlike most spiritual writers and many priestg, the layman lives completely in the world. Farmers see the beauty of the wheat fields glistening in the sun. Doctors see.the wonderful advances which science has made tb help mankind. After a day's toil, workers in offices arid factories feel the warmth of human friendship. Mathema- ticians become enraptured over the harmony of numbers. Concert audiences are enthralled over the delights of a superbly played symphony. Travellers to Europe are ec-static over the art treasures they find there. Surely they do not really believe that the world is evil and should be fled. They have seen too much of g0od~n~ss, too much.of beauty, too much of love, and yes, too much of G0d.in the world. What happens when the lay Catholic listens to a sermon or reads a book telling him to steel himself against the world? He perhaps assents (if he does not become bored) and then proceeds to act as if nothing was ever spoken or ever read. This course of action clearly indicates that he does not really believe the world is evil and to be avoided. The layman is not a spiritual schizophrenic, as he is some-times .accused, simply because.he never believed what the preacher or spiritual writer said. The result is that many words are uttered by preacher and page which are really wasted. No lay person in his right mind takes them se-riously. Father Thomas Stack, the prominent American litur-gist, complains that spiritual preaching and writing are rarely done with the layman in mind, but rather are in-tended for people who live in some ideal world. The lay-man knows the goodness of the world by practical contact and resists attempts by speculators who tell him that what he sees is an illusion. What is needed is spiritual teaching for the layman. The fourth major defect in an exclusively negativistic approach is that those great figures of Christianity who lived in the world just simply did not believe it, judging by their words and deeds. Christ did not walk through the fields and vineyards on the royal road, neither looking to the right nor to the left. Rather He went right into the midst of the fields and gathered there the fruit of the wheat; and He went into the midst of the vineyard and pressed the juice of the grape. And He blessed both, and gave the world Himself foreverl He left us a sign, not only that we might know Him, but that we might know the proper way to deal with the world. What can be more rep-resentative of the world than bread and wine? Christ did not steel Himself against the world, or reject it; He blessed it and made it divine. The world became Christl One of Christ's greatest servants, St. Francis of Assisi, was a man who knew how to confront the world. He did not despise it, or curse it, or steel himself against it. He opened his soul to it, let it pour in upon his soul, for he knew that simultaneously there flowed in God. St. Francis knew the Christ-like way of confronting a bird, or a blade of grass, or the ocean. In his extraordinarily beautiful and moving Canticle of Brother Sun, St. Francis points the way Lay Spirituality VOLUME 21j 1962 45 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 46 toward proper confrontation of man to world. In this Can-ticle, the Saint takes the various realities of the world, the sun, the moon, the wind, fire, and so forth, and thanks God for what these realities are in themselves. Is St. Francis here denying the relation of God to matter, or holding that God is not deeply imbedded in the world? A close analysis of the Canticle reveals precisely the opposite. The first verse, on the other hand, speaks of the complete ineffa-bility of God; indeed St. Francis here notes that no man is worthy even to mention God. And then in the next verse the holy man of Assisi launches immediately into his praises of the world. Is there a lacuna in the Canticle? Nol St. Francis realized that reality is a paradox, that while no man could mention God, yet every man could mention Him at every moment of his life by properly confronting that world which He made and in which He was deeply imbedded. We do not live in a divided world, with an. abyss separating the natural and supernatural. Rather we live in one world where the natural and the supernatural interpenetrate each other in a fused reality. It was this way before the Fall; and after the Fall, the intense heat of Christ's love as manifested in His life and death acted as a tremendous fusion force to bring about once again the interwoven universe. St. Francis saw all this. We should profit from his life and teaching. Is this article a condemnation of the via negativa, the negative way to spiritual perfection? Certainly notl Rather it is a condemnation of an exclusively negative approach. No one can deny that Christ; or St. Francis, or any other saint for that mater employed the via negativa. However, this article attempts to show that the via positiva, the posi-tive way, is not only an important and necessary avenue to spiritual perfection, but is in fact more suited to lay spirituality than the negative way. It is not a case of a mutually exclusive either/or, but rather of an inclusive both/and. In their deepest existential reality the via nega-tiva and the via positiva merge and become one. The lay-man must use both ways, but for him the primacy belongs to the positive way. Spiritual writers and preachers should remember this when preparing their messages to the faith-ful. Undoubtedly one of the greatest Pontiffs of modern times was Pope Pius XII. Those of us who met him could not fail but to be profoundly struck by his deep sanctity. When this holy man of God lay dying, he asked for music to be played for him. He obviously felt that in his last mo-ments on earth, music would draw him closer tothe God he had served so well throughout his lifetime. What type of music did the saintly Pope ask for in his last hour? Gre- gorian chant? Spiritual motets? Nol He requested that Bee-thoven's First Symphony be played. Here was a deeply devout man, believed by many to be in heaven now, who in those crucial moments just before death, saw God more in "secular" reality than in professedly spiritual !reality. Here was the via positiva iri ~ictionl, ÷ ÷ ÷ Lay Sp~rituaUty VOLUME 21, 1962 R. F. SMITH, s.j. Survey of Roman Documents R. F. Smith, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS This article will summarize the documents which ap-peared in ,4cta Apostolicae Sedis during August, 1961. All page references in the article will be to the 1961 Acta (vi 53). Three A llocutions On June 12, 1961 (pp. 495-99), Pope John XXIII ad-dressed the members of the Central Commission for the preparation of Vatican Council II on the occasion of the commission's first session. The Pope outlined the work of the commission which will consist in considering the prob-lems of the convocation of the council and in examining the preliminary drafts submitted by the other preparatory commissions of the council. His Holiness told the members of the commission that the coming council will leave art indelible mark on the history of the Church. On June 20, 1961 (pp. 499-503), the Vicar of Christ again addressed the same Central Committee, this time on the occasion of the closing of the first sessions of the corn, mission--sessions which were concerned with the member-ship of the council, procedural matters in the council, and the language of the council. The language is to be Latin, though the vernacular will be used when opportunity or necessity requires it. The Pope then proceeded to give the objectives of the council: the renewal of the holiness of the clergy; the effective instruction of the faithful in the truth:; of faith and of Christian morality; the right formation adolescents; the spread of the social apostolate; and the formation of a missionary soul in every Christian. On July 6, 1961 (pp. 503-04), the Pope addressed the members of the Commission for the Lay Apostolate for Vatican Council II. Through the commission he exhorted all the faithful to increased prayer for world peace. Miscellaneous Documents On August. 12, 1961 (pp. 525-27), His Holiness pub-lished the text of his handwritten letter constituting Amleto Cardinal Cicognani Secretary of State. On July 9, 1961 (pp. 504-06), John XXIII sent a radio message for the conclusion of the Seventh'~Na~i0nal Marlan~C0nven-tion of France held at Lisieux. He told his listeners that all Christians of whatever state of life were enveloped in the motherhood of the Blessed Virgin who does for all Chris-tians what every mother does for her child. The Pope in-sisted thatdevotion to the. Blessed Virgin is a mark of a person who is truly C~tholic. On June 20, 1961 (p. 507), the Holy Office issued a.warn-ing, telling those who. treat of Scripture to do so with pru-dence and reverence. They should be mindful o~ the teach-ings of the. fathers, of the magisterium of the Church, and of the sense of the Church. They should also be careful not to disturb the consciences of the faithful and not to violate the truths of faith. On June 26, 1961 (pp. 507-08), the Holy Office issued a decree placing on the Index Jean steinmann's La vie de Jdsus (Paris: Club des Librairies de France, 1959). On May 10, 1961 (pp. 513-16), the Sacred Congregation of Rites approved the reassumption" of the cause of BIessed Matthias Murumba, martyr~ and his twenty companion martyrs of Uganda. The martyrs died in 1886 and were beatified in 1920. On November 9, 1960 (pp. 517-20), the same congregation approved the introduction of the cause of the Servant of God, Brother Andrew (1845-1937), of the Congregation of the Holy Cross. On June 5, 1961 (p. 521), the Sacred Apostolic Peniten-tiary granted an indulgence of three years whenever a visitor to St. Peter's kisses the foot of the statue of St. Peter there and says the invocation, "St. Peter, pray for us." On June 9, 1961 (pp. 521~23), the Penitentiary approved a list of indulgences that may be gained by members of the Pontifical Work of Priestly Vocations. ÷ 4. ÷ Roman Documents VOLUME 2't', 1962 49 Viems/ Nets/ In Memoriam: Adam C. Ellis, S.]. (1889-1961) On November 25, 1961, in St. Louis, Missouri, oc-curred the death of Adam C. Ellis, S.J., one of the three co-founders of REw~w FoR RE~o~o~Js. Father Ellis was born in Buffalo, New York, entered the So-ciety of Jesus in 1905, was ordained in 1921, received his doctorate in 1926 from the Gregorian University, and for most of the rest of his life taught canon law at St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas. He was the co-author of Canon Law:,4 Text and a Commentary and the translator-reviser of Religious Men and Women in Church Law and Handbook of Cere-monies. Father Ellis was a zealous worker in behalf of the religious of the United States and deserves a remembrance in their prayers and good works. May he rest in peace. 4. 4. 4, Views, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Instruction from Congregation of Religious On February 2, 1961, the Sacred Congregation of Reli+ gious directed a new document to major religious superiors entitled Instruction to the Superiors of Religious Corn.,~ munities., on the Careful Selection and Training of Candidates. An English translation of the document can be purchased for one dollar from Sister Formation Bulletin., Ottumwa Heights College, Ottumwa Heights, Iowa. Seminary Statistics for the United States The July, 1961, Seminary Newsletter of the National Catholic Educational Association gives a statistical sum.~ mary of United States seminaries for the academic year 1960-61. According to the report there are 96 American diocesan seminaries; of these 28 are major seminaries, while 49 are minor seminaries and the remaining 19 com-prise both major and minor departments. During the same period in the United States there were 295 religious house~; of formation. Of these 106 were major seminaries; 122; minor seminaries; and 67 were combination major-minor seminaries. During the same period there was a total of 23,319 candidates for the diocesan priesthood and 19,629 for the religious priesthood, giving a complete total of 42,948 candidates for the priesthood in 1960-61. One re- mark would seem in order: the 23,319 candidates for the diocesan priesthood are cared for in 95 seminaries, while the smaller number of religious candidates (19,629) are found distributed in 295 houses offormation. This would seem to indicate that clerical religious groups of the United States might well'consider a consolidatingof theii" seminary institutions by grouping the seminary institu-tions of several orders or congregations into larger units. Retreat Conferences Fifteen retreat conferences for lay persons are available either on long play records or on magnetic tape. The con-ferences are given by the Reverend Raphael C.:McCarthy, s.J., retreat director at Sacred Heart Retreat House~ Se-dalia, Colorado. Each album of the records or each copy of the tape costs ~14.95 and can be ordered from Father McCarthy at the above address. The Church in Africa Herder-Korrespondenz for August, 1961, gives statistics illustrating the growth of the Church in Africa between 1949 and 1959. In 1949 there were 11,000,000 Catholics on the continent; in 1959 this number had increased to 20,200,000, a gain of 84%. The largest percentage increase was found in West Africa where Church.membership dur-ing the decade increased 120%; North Africa had the low-est increase, 37%. In eight countries of Africa Catholics form more than one-fourth of the total population. On the other hand two countries are listed as being without Cath-olics: British Somaliland and Mauretania, both of which are entirely Mohammedan in reiigious allegiance. The Church in Spain Raz6n y Fe for March, 1961, has a statistical survey of many facets of Church life in Spain. The following points from the article may be of interest. In 1960 in Spain there were 24,504 diocesan priests and 8,319 religious priests. In the same year there were 20,583 professed men religious and 71,309 professed women religious. In the academic year 1959-60, 5,302 men applied for admittance to Spanish seminaries; of these 4,173 were accepted, the other 1,129 being rejected. The latest available statistics show that Spain has 22,628 seminarians. A survey of more than 17,000 of these showed that roughly 25% were from large cities, another 25% from small towns, and the remaining 50% from rural areas. A similar survey of seminarians on an economic basis disclosed that out of 17,053 seminarians whose backgrounds were investigated 917 were from the upper class, 8,698 fr6m the middle class, and 7,438 from the lower class. ÷ ÷ ÷ Prev~ws VOLUME 21, 1962 51 ÷ ÷ ¥iews, News, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS The article also furnishes some data on the number of non-Catholics in Spain (including, therefore, Jews and Orthodox). In 1960 there were between 15,561 and 18,716 non-Catholics in Spain divided among fourteen different religious groups. The largest single group is that of the Plymouth Brethren who in 1960 counted between 4,815 and 5,615 membex;s. Missionary Bishops of the World L'Osservatore Romano oJ May 18, 1961, provides statis-tics on the number and origin of missionary bis.hops throughout the world (exclusive of missionary auxiliary bishops). As of May 15, 1961, there were 196 such bishops in Africa, 64 in the Americas, 153 in Asia, 8 in Europe, and 55 in Oceania, making a total of 476. Of these 289 were born in Europe, 54 in the Americas, 73 in Asia, 32 in Af-rica, and 28 in Oceania. The above figures do not take into account data for countries dominated by Communism. Twenty-Year Index A twenty-year index to REviEw FOR REI~e~OtJS is in preparation. The proposed index will have four parts: author-title index of articles; subject index; author-title index of book reviews; and a canon law index. It is hoped that the index will be ready by the end of 1962. New African Congregation According to International Fides Service of September 2, 1961, a new congregation of religious women was founded in December, 1960, in the diocese of Luluabourg in Africa. On August 22, 1961, the first.four members of the congregation received their habits; and a new postulant was received at the same time. The new congregation is called by the name of the Sisters of the Immaculate Heart of Mary. Guide to Meetings A recent publication of the National Catholic Educa-tional Association will prove useful to those engaged in education. Entitled Calendar of Meetings of 195 National and Educational Associations, 1961-62, it lists by date meetings that have been scheduled for the present aca-demic year. The publication is available for seventy-five cents from NCEA Research Office, 1785 Massachusetts Avenue, N.W., Washington 6, D.C. [The following answers are given by Father Joseph F. Gallen, s.J., professor of canon law at Woodstock College, Woodstock, Maryland.] Shou