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

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GETTYSBURG, PA., APRIL, 1903 No. 2 CONTENTS MY GUARDIAN STAR 48 C. E. BUTLER, '05. JONATHAN SWIFT AS A SATIRIST 49 HERBERT L. STIFEL, '03. THE SIGNIFICANCE OF HIGHER EDUCATION FOR WOMAN S3 M. ADA MCLINN, '04. THE BLACK SHEEP . 57 ESSAY-WRITING AS A COLLEGE DISCIPLINE . . 62 N. R. WHITNEY, '06. A SOLILOQUY 64 B. A. STROHMEIER, '06. THE INFLUENCE OF THE NOVEL . . . . . 66 J. EDWARD LOWE, '05. THE RURAL TELEPHONE 68 BRUCE P. COBAUGH, '05. SHOULD A STUDENT KEEP HIS COLLEGE TEXT-BOOKS? . 70 C. EDWIN BUTLER, '05 EDITORIALS 72 EXCHANGES " . 75 48 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. MY GUARDIAN STAR. C. E. BUTLER, '05. *m MiERE are spots in the far away sky *• Where the heavenly bodies stand, Like sentinels over all nature To keep the peace of the land. Here alone, great bodies are strewn And there sweeps a beautiful lake, And an angel brings a rose every night To hang as a clear silver flake. If one were to pause in the evening And gaze to the heavens all aglow, He would find there, a star, by instinct Whose secret only one man can know. This bright and heavenly body Has been placed by the hand of Fate To keep watch o'er a certain pilgrim On his journeys early and late. The Fates favor not only one, But each has his guardian star, And if you will but eagerly look Your guardian is watching from afar. 'Tis sweet to be so shielded By a Father who watches from above, For such stars are the works of his hand As our guardian angels of love. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 49 JONATHAN SWIFT AS A SATIRIST. HERBERT L. STIEEL, '03. {Graeff Prize Essay.] SATIRE has been defined as criticism that searches for de-fects in order to ridicule them. Being destructive rather than constructive, it is not the highest form of criticism; in fact it occupies a low plane in the scale of literary merit. Neverthe-less, it has been a popular form of writing from the times of the Athenian Aristophanes and the Roman Horace down to the present day. At no time, perhaps, was it so prevalent as at the beginning of the eighteenth century. Those days formed a period of literary duels, personal, political, and religious, such as the world has never seen before or since. Satire, lampoon, and epigram were the weapons ; such men as Voltaire, Swift, Addison, and Defoe, were the contestants. Masters of their weapons, all of them ; able to send home their rapier-like thrusts with telling effect. Pre-eminent among them, in satire at least, stands Jonathan Swift, author, clergyman, politician and misanthrope. Many a brilliant production has come from his vitriolic pen, but none of his works contain a satire more keen than his own life. At college he was a poor student. He read much, but the regular studies of his course had no attraction for him. Mathematics and the sciences of the day were his especial bugbear. This dislike may have been the origin of the ridicule to which he subjected them later, in his "Voyage to Laputa." At times he was pinched with poverty. An extremely dis-agreeable disposition prevented his making many friends and soon lost for him the few he did have. Joseph Addison was one notable exception, however; his friendship for Swift was firm and lasting. Swift was a man of irascible passions, mis-anthropic to the last degree. Life, to his mind, was not worth living. He had a horror of old age and a desire for death which would have been pathetic had it not been so cynical and bitter. "God bless you, I hope we shall never meet again," 50 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. was his customary farewell to his friends. Brutality towards woman was another of Swift's traits, Esther Johnson, the subject of his "Journal to Stella" and Miss Vanhomrig, known in his works as Vanessa, were the principal sufferers. The last few years of his life were spent in total insanity. Even on his death bed the habit of satire was strong in him. With satirical intent, as he himself admitted, he willed his entire fortune to a home for incurable madmen. Of the writings of Swift, "Gulliver's Travels" is the most im-portant and best known. Nearly all of his other satires are at times licentious, indelicate, and coarse. Particularly is this true of his "Tale of a Tub," a general satire, lashing in all directions. This was one of his earliest works and though very offensive, it has been pronounced "the most powerful satire of the century." The "Drapiers Letters" and the "Battle of the Books" are also among his more important productions. In his two pamphlets written along almost parallel lines, the "Argu-ment Against the Abolishment of Christianity" and the "Modest Proposal for Preventing the Children in Ireland from Being a Burden to their Parents" by fattening and eating them, we have two of the best examples of unrestrained irony known to the English language. He is also the author of numerous political pamplets which are worthy of consideration as examples of pure, simple En-glish. Throughout all of them we can trace the unfailing vein of his satire. The style of Swift is simple, direct and even. Sentences flow naturally and easily from his pen. A child would have no difficulty in understanding the words which he uses. Originality is another "characteristic of his works. Sir Walter Scott draws our attention to this fact, claiming that Swift was more original than any other author of his period. Swift has been imitated, as in the "Travels of Baron Mun-chausen," but never did he imitate. An interesting peculiarity of his writings is his power of giving "the wildest fiction an air of realism." The characteristics and methods of Swift's satire are best discerned by an examination of his well known work, "Gulliver's THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. Si Travels."* Here he makes the wildest invention and most grotesque humor hide a serious purpose. So well does he succeed that I have heard a college man, a Senior, declare that the work is a story for children, written with that purpose in view. The voyage of Captain Gulliver to Lilliput refers chiefly to the court and politics of England. The political parties in Lilliput, the one insisting that high heels shall be worn upon the shoes, the other equally insistent that only low heels shall be worn, are the Tories and Whigs of England. When Swift tells of the heir apparent of the country, who wears one heel high and one low, the shaft is aimed at the Prince of Wales, whose political leanings were equivocal, to say the least. The petty disputes in Lilliput as to whether eggs should be broken at the small or the big end, find their parallel in the differences of the English Papists and Protestants. Horace Walpole, Prime Minister'of England, is said to have laughed heartily when, on reading Swift's ridiculous account of the Premier Flimnap, he recognized himself. Placing the scene of the story in a country where the inhabitants are six inches high and their surroundings and deeds in proportion, only adds effectiveness. In the next voyage we are taken to Brobdingnag. The satire here is more general. Few particular references to persons or events can be discovered. The littleness and vanity of our desires and the insignificance of our pursuits are shown the more strongly by increasing them to Brobdingnagian propor-tions. The third voyage is to Laputa, and this time the scien-tists of England suffer. It is not real science which Swift de-rides, but the many pretenses and imitations of the day. Nevertheless, some pointed passages are directed against Sir Isaac Newton and the Royal Society. In the author's gloomy account of the Struldbrugs, the immortals of Laputa, we are reminded of his own indifference to life and his fear of old age. * Analysis based on notes of Rev. John Mitford ; W. C. Taylor Edi-tion, Vol. I. 52 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. The satire which we find in the fourth voyage is bitterly mis-anthropic and repelling. On this voyage, Captain Gulliver is thrown ashore upon an island where the horse is the superior animal and man the inferior. The picture which Swift here draws of human nature is nauseating and disgusting. The mind at once rejects so horrible a caricature. Had the "Voy-age to the Houyhnums" never been written, "Gulliver's Travels" would be a much more readable book. With all his coarseness, Swift was undoubtedly a genius. Thackeray, with all his adverse criticism, admits that he was "the greatest wit of all times ;" Macaulay claims that he was the "ablest man in the Tory party" and the "keenest observer of men and manners ;" Joseph Addison calls him "the greatest genius of his age." Of Swift's use of English, Dr. Hugh Blair says, "He knew beyond almost any man the purity, extent and precision of the English language." The consensus of opinion is that he was the greatest satirist of his own, if not of any, age. Sir Walter Scott not inaptly compares the personality of Swift to Shake-speare's description of Cassius in "Julius Caesar :" "He reads much ; He is a great observer and he looks quite through The deeds of men. Seldom he smiles ; and smiles in such a sort, As if he mocked himself and scorned his spirit. That could be moved to smile at anything." THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 53 THE SIGNIFICANCE OF HIGHER EDUCATION FOR WOMAN. M. ADA MCLINN, '04. "Ignorance is the curse of God. Kowledge is the wings with which we fly to heaven." IF knowledge is so significant for the uplifting of the human race and the lack of knowledge equally significant for its downfall, it is worth while to investigate it and discover in what way it means so much to mankind in general. It is through education that one obtains knowledge. Education is too comprehensive in its workings to admit of definition. This much can be said of it, however. It is an all-round de-velopment of the mind by means of which it expands and changes in character. This development guides the mind to the great realms of thought where a vast, vast expanse stretches before it. There the minds sees by-ways, roads and large avenues which lead to undiscovered knowledge. The only pass needed for traveling upon them is thought—deep, re-searchive thought; but, to speak literally, the training of one's intellectual powers is of untold value. Ask any educated per-son if he would be willing to part with what he knows. He will answer positively in the negative. It means too much to him to part with it at any price. What mean the phenomena of nature to the untaught? What does he see in the sky above him other than a canopy over the earth set with lights ? He does not see the stars as worlds revolving in the endless blue aether. What does he see in the gorgeous cloud formations and hues of dawn and sunset other than a sign of to morrow's weather ? The orchard in its dainty dress of blossom pink and leafy green means only a prospective crop of fruit. To one whose mind has been trained by thought and study these sights give inspiration, they open a new world to him, they fill his mind with glorious reflections and create within him a desire to become something. 54 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. To the ignorant person, the world is as an opaque mist. He can see dimly the outlines and positions of objects, but can-not define them. It is education that clears away the opacity and enables him to view his surroundings through a clear transparent atmosphere. It is in our literature that we find the greatest thoughts of the greatest minds, the most soul inspiring thought, the most beautiful songs of gifted poets. These mean nothing to the unlearned. He thereby loses all the best that the world which lived before him left him. Education gives one a constant source of entertainment and instruction. Place an educated person on a lonely island. He can do more than exist. He can find friends in the birds, the trees, in fact, in all of his surroundings. Place him in the crowded city and, because of his insight into human nature, he will be the leader of his circle. In any place, he is at home and capable. Through education one discovers what a potent force is mind—how it rules the world with its all-compelling sway. Before this development one leads, as it were, a vegetative ex-istence ; he is merely an individual—one of the many millions upon the earth's surface. Educate him and he is a person with a personal plan before him to carry out. He is a character with influence. This and much more does education mean to every human being who lives on God's earth—both to man and woman, but we shall now proceed to show what it signifies to woman, specially, in her own sphere. No one will deny that woman's mental constitution is dif-ferent from man's. Her nature is more sensitive to her sur-roundings, she requires a more ideal existence, her sense of sympathy is keener, her heart is the controlling force. To such a temperament education means more than to the more staid temperament of man. Her sensitive nature quick-ened, by such training, to a sense of the great possibilities be-fore it, will make a new world for itself. The horizon will stretch away from the four walls of the house to the great round THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 55 - world. To her, personally, it means a life flavored with con-tinual happiness, it is "a thing of beauty and a joy forever." It gives her the ideal existence that she needs. Instead of be-ing bound down to the hum-drum routine of her household duties, she rises above the drudgery of them. With systematic order she can arrange these duties, then lay them aside to en-joy life in a realm above the culinary department. Her tendency to be ruled by the heart is restrained, which, while most humane, is sometimes dangerous without the con-trolling power of reason. Her judgment and reasoning powers are developed. She views the questions of life with logical perception. Her sanguine temperament is brought to its proper balance and her mind in emergencies becomes calm and clear. It is the ideal existence which makes woman happy, and Ruskin says, that is what makes her lovely. It is education that gives substance to her day dreams. With clearer vision than man she grasps the ideal which stands out upon the heights of possible achievement. She listens to the low voice of duty which commands the actualization of this ideal, and with the power which the intellectual life bestows, she approxi-mates it more closely, in her daily life, than man can do. In the home it establishes her as queen. What does it not mean to a home to have an educated mother in it? Her trained faculties, combined with her innate love and sympathy, make her an ideal mother. It is safe to say that the rudeness of American children, for which unfortunately they are noted, would disappear could educated and cultured mothers be placed in all homes. To his mother a child owes his mental endowment. Review the biographies of the great men of the age. It will be found that from their mothers they inherited superior mental traits. Again to be an ideal wife a woman must have reached such a stage of mental development that she can meet her husband on any ground. Can there be per-fect congenialty and love between two minds, one of which has expanded and been broadened in its development, the other a small intellect filled with trifles ? In addition to the influence education exerts upon a woman 56 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. personally, and her elevation in the home, it means a great deal to her social position. One can judge the status of a com-munity by the women he finds in it. Woman rules the social world about her. Every one will acknowledge that it is desir-able to live in a community of some standing and culture. Then he must acknowledge that it is necessary to have the women educated who live in the community. An educated woman will have no time for petty gossip and slander. And by conversing with her one will gain more than mere diversion. It gives her presence, assurance and tact in her intercourse with others. If one wishes to know what education has done for woman previous to this, let him note the changes in her condition and in the condition of the world, since the time when she was de-nied the privilege of learning even so much as the alphabet. Education enables woman to help man directly and indirectly in his work in the world. It was Psyche, in Tennyson's "Princess," who in speaking of this union of the minds of man and woman, said with prophetic voice: "Everywhere Two heads in council, two beside the hearth, Two in the tangled business of the world, Two in the liberal offices of life, Two plummets dropped for one to sound the abyss Of science and the secrets of the mind." This combining of the two minds she expected to see brought about by woman's being educated apart from the world. We are seeing her prophecy fulfilled, not by woman's exclusion from the world, but by her mingling with it, and being edu-cated to dwell in it. In this way she is becoming an interesting factor in the world's history, while at the same time she is becoming a womanly woman, full of charm, and ready to fill any place where the world needs her, be it within or without the home. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 57 THE BLACK SHEEP. IN his library, one December night, an old man sat watching the flames as they leaped higher and higher in the old fireplace, each one seeming as though it were trying to reach a greater height than its fellow. His head rested in his hands, and on his face was a look of sadness, such as might have been produced by some mental agony. If the old man's face could have been seen, a tear would have been noticed trinkling down his old, wrinkled face. He might, perchance, be recalling the dark days of his life. For no life, no matter to what height of perfection it has attained, but has had its hours of temptations and darkness. Outside the winds howled and moaned. The snow flew in clouds. A fierce winter's storm was raging. The streets were deserted except for those whom business compelled to be abroad on such a night. Yes, on such a night the home was the Mecca of all pedestrians. The old man continued to sit in silence until he was aroused from his musings by the opening of the door into his den. And turning around he beheld his daughter in the doorway. She was a woman of perhaps twenty years of age, not to say beautiful; but her face had that in it which makes one feel at once that he has found a woman of noble character. One whose life was filled with noble sentiment and pure thoughts. "You wish to see me, father?" she asked, approaching the old man. "Yes, my dear," replied the old man, raising his head, "draw a chair up to the fireplace, I wish to talk to you." While she was doing as her father directed, the old man's head was again in his hands and he seemed lost in thought. She sat for some moments in silence, waiting for the old man to speak, but he did not move. At length she ventured to say, "I am still here, father." Without seeming to notice her remark the old man began : "Nellie, I have always been a good father to you, haven't 58 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. I ? I have always done all for you that I should ? I was always good to your mother before she died? I never brought disgrace or sorrow to our home ? We were always happy, we three ?" "Why, certainly, father, why do you ask ?" his daughter questioned, in some surprise. "Because, my daughter," the old man resumed, "I feel that my life is almost at its close; that my race is almost run." "Don't talk so foolish, father, you know that you will live many years yet." "Ah ! my daughter, I wish it were so, but I know it cannot be. And before I die there is something which I must tell you. Something which only myself and my God know, yet I feel, my darling, that when I have told you that you will turn away from your poor old father in disgust. You won't do that, Nellie ? Say that you won't do that." And the old man stretched his hands appealingly toward his daughter. "You have always been true and noble to me, father, and whatever you may have done I am sure that I will love you still," replied the girl taking the old man's hands in her own. They sat in silence for some moments but at length the old man began: "Having started out in life under favorable circumstances, it was not long until I had made a name for myself. At a quite early age I became cashier in the bank then run by Howard & Rawlston. My mother and father were proud of their son. He was an honor and joy to them. Soon my name became a by-word for honesty and integrity. But not so with my elder brother Dick. On the contrary, Dick was a wild sort of a chap. The old folks never mentioned his doings excepting when things had gone so far that we could not bear them any longer. Time after time father had gotten him out of one scrape only to find that he had gotten into another. At last it came to a crisis and when father had given poor old Dick his last chance, he ignominiously failed. Then father left him shift for himself. I really pitied my brother often, believing that we THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 59 did not fully understand him. For I knew that at heart he was a noble fellow. " Year after year glided by, during which I met your mother and our friendship was eventually consummated in our happy marriage. At length, one day, I was shown a chance by which I might make my fortune. I invested. Then came the crash. What should I do ? I needed money. An idea came to my mind, but I would not listen to it. No, I had lost my all but I was still honest. " Oh ! how many sleepless nights I spent. Oh ! how many days of torture I lived through, no one will ever know. And then to cap the climax you were born. There were three mouths to feed now, what should I do? After much delibera-tion I resolved to give way to the thought which had come into my mind, and make of myself a criminal. I was surprised to see with what complacency I arranged my plan. Really, I was astonished with myself. " I waited with impatience the fatal day. It came at last, bringing with it rain and a high wind. A very suitable time for my opprobrious project. After the business hours of the day were over I went home, ate my supper, and told your mother I must go out on business. This being a frequent oc-currence did not surprise her in the least. 'About midnight, muffled in a long coat, I made my way to-ward the bank. The rain was falling fast. No one was on the streets. All the better for me. At length I stood on the bank steps; my heart almost failed me. No, I would not turn back, I had made my resolve and would stick to it. I took out my keys and soon had the door open. It was only the work of a moment to get to the safe and open it. Quickly taking out ten packages of bills, each containing ten one thousand dollar bills, I put them into a bag which I had brought with me for that purpose. Ah, I was rich once more, but the bank! The bank was ruined, but what cared I for that, I had gone too far to turn back. The bank must look out for itself. "In a few moments I had the safe closed and was soon on the outside. I hastily looked up and down the street. No one 6o THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. was in sight. I started quickly up the street. Soon I was at the corner and just as I turned around it I bumped into a man coming in the opposite direction. He muttered something about people looking where they were going. We looked at each other, my God! It was my brother Dick. He did not apparently recognize me, or if he did he did not care to let me know it. "I was soon at home and after having put the bank notes in a safe place turned to my bed to spend a sleepless night. ******** "The next day the town was wild., The robbery had been discovered. The bank was on the verge of ruin. Detectives were sent for, but they could find no clue. The robbers had left not the slightest trace of their identity behind. "A few weeks after, one of the parties believed he had traced the crime to me. He as much as told me that I had done it. What should I do ? Was all my work for nothing ? I must prove an alibi by all means, but how ? That was the question. "The directors of the bank were in meeting. I was there against my will. I was to prove to them that I had had no connection with the robbery whatever. If I failed in this I should be handed over to the authorities in the morning. I was almost frantic with fear. I believed myself lost. I had been away from home that night and they knew it. Try as I would, I could not think of any plausible thing to tell them. "Many questions were asked me, and I was given a chance to prove that I was not near the place of crime. But it was of no avail. I could not do it. I was doomed. At length Mr. Howard arose and looking squarely at me said, 'John Gilford, we have given you a chance to clear yourself. You have failed. Yet you stoutly maintain your innocence. We wish to believe you. I wish to God I could do so. But if you are not guilty, who is?' "Not a sound was heard. The perspiration was trinkling down my face in large drops. The fatal moment had come. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 61 All eyes were riveted upon me. I resolved to confess, to tell them all. I was just about to answer when 'I am' came the answer in a clear and distinct voice. We all turned and there standing in the doorway was a man, worn and haggard-looking, and that man was my brother Dick. "I tried to see Dick during the trial but he would not let them admit me to see him. All too soon the trial was over, and Dick was sentenced to twenty years in the State prison. But the poor boy did not last long. The next year we buried him in the cemetery on the hill. He had fallen a victim to typhoid fever, contracted shortly after he entered the prison. "My darling, what years of torture I have gone through since then no one can realize. What remorse and anguish have filled my soul God alone knows. But I was a coward then. I could not confess and clear him, and Dick, poor boy, did it for myself and your mother. He loved your mother, Nellie, and he would not see her disgraced." The old man in his earnestness arose, stretched his hands toward his daughter : "You forgive me my child ? You will love—you will love—me—still ?" He tottered and fell to the floor. Quickly his daughter was by his side. "Speak to me, father," she cried, "speak to me." She felt at his heart. It had ceased to beat. No, he would speak no more. He had gone to his God. His race was run. He had gone to join the Black Sheep. w. A. G. 62 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. ESSAY-WRITING AS A COLLEGE DISCIPLINE. N. R. WHITNEY, '06. THE end for which men come to college is to gain a lib-eral education. To attain this end it is necessaiy to make use of some means besides that of poring over text books. These means are to be found especially in literary-work. This must not be understood as implying that the knowledge gained from text books is of secondary importance. On the contrary such knowledge is of primary importance, for one must have thoughts worthy of utterance before he begins to write; and the knowledge gained from a course of study is such as to suggest these thoughts. Besides text books we have access to another source of in-formation. This is found in the reading of good literature. When a person reads a book properly it is not the thoughts of the author that impress and benefit him so much as it is the ideas suggested to him by the book, but enlarged and converted into thought by his own brain. We never truly appreciate a book or its author until we possess ourselves of the facts he had and then strive, by our own mental powers, to arrive at the same conclusions at which he did. Reading, in addition to furnishing thoughts, will give one an ideal of the proper literary form and thus serve a two-fold purpose. The ability properly to express one's thoughts is an accomplishment of no mean worth and will be found of great value in whatever occupation he may engage. Language is but the garment of thought. Good taste is just as evident in the selection of language as in dress. It is man's nature to wish to communicate his joys and his sorrows to others. His joys are never half so enjoyable as when shared with others, and his sorrows never so heavy and depressing as when borne alone, hidden in the depths of his own heart. So in all his experiences he feels the impulse to communicate them. Language, either written or spoken, is the means by which he makes known his innermost feelings THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 63 and desires, hence we see the value of this practice in express-ing thought. The ability to communicate with others is not restricted to man alone. The lower animals also have some means of communicating with others of their kind, and as we advance in the scale of intelligence and civilization this means of intercourse becomes more perfectly developed. In fact we have come to gauge the degree of the civilization of a people by its literature. In studying the history of the Middle Ages we regard the revival of learning as the chief instrument or agent in dispelling the darkness of ignorance and superstition, and awakening the human mind from its long sleep to witness the dawn of a new day in the world's history. The expression and progress of this intellectual revival is found in the literature of that period. Thus literature is synonymous with enlighten-ment and education. This being true, practice in literary work is a necessity to a liberal education. Exercise in this branch of college work will gain for one the habit of thinking logically and of arranging his thoughts in the most effective manner. It will increase our vocabulary and improve our diction. The reading necessary to this work will enlarge our fund of general information and develop the aesthetic side of our nature. If one attempts to write a descriptive article, the necessity of observing more closely his surroundings will be forcibly impressed upon him—it is truly amazing how little one sees in comparison with what there is to be seen all around him. Thus, looking at the matter from every side, one must be conscious of the great benefits to be derived from this work. It is true that it requires a great deal of time and effort, but the results will prove it to be a profitable investment. Bacon has said, "Reading maketh a full man ; writing an exact man," to which we might add, and together they make a liberally edu-cated man. 64 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. A SOLILOQUY. B. A. STROHMKIER, '06. TEJTAVE you ever been off with a college team— ■^■*- With a basket-ball, base-ball, or football team, When your spirits were high and your heart was light, And your soul bubbled over with hopes all bright? Say, have you? Have you ever thus gone from your college home Like the legions that marched out of ancient Rome, Full of confidence born in a brilliant past, Gone to war with a foeman that stands aghast? Say, have you? Have you entered the land of the foe and felt All at once, at Uncertainty's shrine you knelt, When you heard the wild crowd giving hostile cheers And the young vulgur rabble hurl stinging jeers ? Say, have you? Have you girded your lions for the coming fray Thinking still that your prestige will win the day ? Have you heard the shrill, referee's whistle blow When, relieved, in to conquer or die you go? Say, have you ? Then alas! has your prestige and fame dissolved Like the mist into air by the sun resolved ? Have you lived not to glory, but groan.in pain, While the ignoble foe sings the victor's strain? Well, I have. Of a truth it is bitter to taste defeat; It is sweet to be feared as unconquered, unbeat. But in all the wide world, and in any age Who can find such a one writ on history's page ? Say, can you,? THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 65 When Ambition appeared, then great Caesar fell; It was Carelessness sounded vast Rome's death-knell; And Napoleon met with his Waterloo When he least was afraid. Can it be it's true ? Say, can it ? Then remember the lesson, and hold it tight: It is power not prestige that wins the fight; And defeat now and then is a wholesome thing That conceit, too high flown, back to earth will bring, For a man's but a man, that withal he's done, Though there's many a man thinks he's more than one. Say, do you ? THE YOUNG SINGER. He sang the charge song of the Guard A mad, wild fever seized me. He crooned a mother's cradle-song ; What far fond dreams it weaved me ! With bursts of laughing opera airs Tumultuously he'd wake me; And through a flaunting Gypsy dance His tripping voice would take me. He sang of love, my blood caught fire, For lo ! soft hands caressed me. He sang of death ; a calm cold breath With mystic power oppressed me. He sang, but now his voice is still. Why should his memory grieve me? For in the spirit of his songs He lives, he ne'er shall leave me. —The Monthly Maroon. 66 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. THE INFLUENCE OF THE NOVEL. J. EDWARD LOWS, '06. THIS is an age of education, and the present generation is a generation of readers. Illiteracy, at least in the most pro-gressive countries, is no longer the rule, but the exception. Since education has become so general, it is hard to find a man, who has gone beyond the purely elementary stage of mental train-ing, who is not somewhat familiar with the literature of his mother-tongue. There is a class, often referred to as the read-ing public, who compose the material for the newspapers, magazines and books. Since literature is a subject with which so many are inter-ested, it might be proper to inquire what particular branch of literature is the most powerful and far-reaching in its effects. The answer, I think, is not hard to find ; it is the department of prose fiction. It will doubtless be readily considered that the novel is at least the most popular kind of writing. There are reasons for this. For to appreciate poetry properly often requires no small degree of culture, if not, indeed, a special cast of mind. Not every-body enjoys reading history, be it ever so graphi-cally portrayed. There are few who do not enjoy reading a good story and who cannot appreciate, in some degree at least, the work of a master-hand in this department. Who does not follow with breathless interest the vivid narrative of Scott ? Who does not laugh at "Mr. Pickwick," the inimitable creation of Charles Dickens ? Or again the vividly portrayed story of "Rip Van-Winkle," written by Washington Irving? It is safe to say that ten novels are read to every volume of poetry; a hundred to every volume of history. One great reason for the popularity of the modern novel is its realism. It is in this respect that it is so very different from its prototype, the romance of the Middle Ages. The hero of the Medieval romance was generally a king or knight, an impossible creature, who was the very embodiment of virtue and bravery. En- THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 67 chanted castles, witches, ghosts and spectres played a promi-nent part in the plot. These went to make up a story so fan-tastic that it could have appealed to minds only the most imaginative and credulous. The modern novel, on the contrary, is decidedly realistic. "Robinson Crusoe," by some called the first English novel, is so well composed, that it is often hard to convince a boy. who reads Defoe's celebrated story that it is not gospel truth. Every cause can be best judged by the effect it produces and,, judging the influence of some of the world's greatest novels bjr the results they have achieved, it is beyond doubt that they have been most potent factors in the great work of moral re-form, and social progress. It was the publication of Dickens' "Nicholas Nickelby," that opened the eyes of the English people to the abuses existing in the public-school system, and its direct results was a radical change in that system. In "Oliver Twist" the evils in the system of poor-relief were pointed out. We turn to the United States, for the most re-markable effect a novel has ever produced upon the public sentiment. That novel was "Uncle Tom's Cabin," which a prominent Southern writer recently asserted was the cause of the Civil War. This may seem a little far-fetched, but it was at least one of the causes of the awful conflict between the North and the South. It has been predicted by certain writers, that there will come a time when the novel as a form of literature will cease to exist. They think that eventually everything in the form of a plot will have been so completely worked out that the new will be only a repetition of the old. This, it seems to me, is a foolish view. Solomon was doubt-less correct when he said, "There is nothing new under the Sun." But the fact remains that there have always been minds that could present the old in a new and attractive form. When the military hero has ceased to win the admiration of the ap-plauding millions ; when all the world has ceased to love a lover; when, in short, the human mind has lost the faculty of imagination; then, and only then, will the novel cease to live. 68 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. THE RURAL TELEPHONE. BRUCE P. COBAUGH, '05. THE telephone is one of the great factors of modern pro-gress. Now, it is a noticeable fact, and a deplorable one too, that, while miles of telephone lines stretch across the country, the farmer seldom avails himself of the benefits afforded by the telephone. Nor is it wholly through ignorance that he does not do this, for any intelligent man must recognize the usefulness of the 'phone; but the farmer must consider the cost of the telephone service, and in the stock companies the yearly rate is so high that he cannot well afford the expense. What the farmer needs is a line that will connect him with the market, and his neighbors as well, at a moderate expense. The question of the rural telephone has been successfully solved by the mutual company. By this is meant the entire ownership and operation of the line by the subscribers. In order to show that mutual control of a line is practical, the writer will state a few facts concerning a mutual line with which he is familiar. This line has been in operation for several years and has given good satisfaction. The residents of a certain community held several meetings to discuss the necessity of a telephone line. It was agreed that the telephone would be of advantage but that the cost was too great. This was based on the offer of a stock company, which proposed to place 'phones in the homes at a yearly rent of fifteen dollars each. This led to the suggestion of a cheaper method: the mutual control of the line, and accordingly a company of twenty subscribers was organized. The members of the company did as much work as possible in the construc-tion of the line, thereby restricting the cost to the minimum. The line when completed was ten miles long and connected a small town to a larger one. The total cost of construction of the line was twelve hundred dollars, or an average of sixty dollars per member. But new members were added at once and so the cost was lessened THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 69 greatly. Each member paid eighteen dollars in cash and the remainder in yearly payments of six dollars each till the line was paid for. At the end of his payments the subscriber owned a full share in the company and his 'phone as well. The yearly cost of operation was found to be not over two dollars per member. The line has later been extended by con-nection with another mutual line and by a rate free exchange of connection with a good stock company. The necessity of the 'phone is clearly shown by its many advantages. It brings the farmer into close touch with the markets. He can keep track of the fluctuating prices of pro-duce by ringing up his home dealer, for the business men are generally connected with a farmers' line. In this way some men have saved more than the cost of their 'phone. Then the telephone brings the people of a community into close contact. The farmer finds it rather more convenient and more pleasant to sit down to his desk and speak with his neigh-bor than go a mile to borrow an implement only to find it in use. Formerly it was a half-day's work to procure hands for threshing. By use of the 'phone it is done now in an hour. And in procuring assistance for all kinds of work, the 'phone is especially useful to the farmer. But we should not omit the social intercourse which the 'phone affords the farmer's home. This is probably one of the greatest advantages of telephone service. No need of braving a winter storm to inquire about the health of a sick friend. One great advantage is yet to be named : it is the time which the 'phone saves in summoning a physician. All physi-cians within reach of the line are connected with it. In many cases they have arrangements for night calls. The time saved in their arrival may save the-life of many a sufferer. These are only a few of the advantages of the rural telephone. Others could be named which would prove further the profit-able use of the 'phone and the comfort and pleasure as well which it affords the home. The farmer can well consider him-self fortunate in having the 'phone, by it a comparatively isolated life has been socially strengthened through a ready means of intercourse. 7o THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. SHOULD A STUDENT KEEP HIS COLLEGE TEXT BOOKS ? C. EDWIN BUTI,ER, '05. THIS is a question every college man must meet, and that very early in his college course. Comparatively few men go through a course of four years at college without pur-chasing a number of text books. Everyone knows the neces-sity of them for a successful study and research, and if it is so essential to have them during the college life, why should they not be just as necessary afterwards, or what is the reason for parting with them ? There can be only one of two reasons : either the student has no use for them in later life, or the money he gets for them—which is generally a very small sum—is of more value than the books themselves. If it is proven that a student has need, and great need, of his books after he leaves college; and if it is proven that they are of greater value to him than any price he can obtain for them, then is it not clear that a student should keep his college text books ? It is the prevailing custom of the human race to have friends. Each person, no matter of what degree or station in life, enjoys the companionship of certain friends. Whether he be a doc-tor, minister, statesman, or common day-laborer, they are as necessary to his peace of mind and contentment as food and clothes are for the body. And what are books to the student, but friends? They help him over the rough places in his course and stand by him in all his need and labors. What he does not know they tell him. When he chances to go astray, they put him on the correct path. Verily, they are friends indeed as well as friends in his need. At least it does one a great deal of good to think of them as such. While seated in the class room many little notes and marks are made in those books that in later years are found to be a source of fond recollections. The memory of them will float through the mind as sweet incense. Hence they would be THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. n worth the keeping for old times' sake, if there were nothing else to enhance their value. It matters not into what profession you enter, your college text books will prove themselves friends to you at many times. You will have need of them. Being thoroughly acquainted with their contents you can very readily turn to any subject which may have escaped your memory and refresh yourself in half the time and with thrice the ease you would find by con-sulting any other book. And back of it all, you have the authority which you have been prepared so well to defend dur-ing all your college course. The cost of college books now compared with former days is so small that the student of moderate means finds it within his power to retain them even for his whole life and then hand them down to his children, from whom they could not be pur-chased for ten times their value. When you purchase your text books you pay full value for them, and if you sell them to another student, you cannot receive more than that, and gener-ally but half as much. ' They have become endeared to you by frequent use, and like old friends you dislike parting with them. The price you paid for them is incomparable with the value of them to you now. Even should you never have any cause to use them, are not the recollections they recall worth the cost? Any man who should dare to insult you by offering to buy your friends would receive a blow from you that would com-pensate him in full for his audacity. Why then should any college man misusing or offering you a mean price for your books not receive as much or more? Fellow-students, keep your text books ! Under no circum-stances barter them away for a mess of potage. They will prove a monument of pleasure more enduring than brass and which the countless succession of years cannot wear away. You will love them in later years as you do no other books, and curse the hand that dares to misuse them. Honor your college career, your library, and your home, and take with you the joy and comfort of your old age, which may be found in your books, and which treasures should not purchase from you. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY Entered at the Postoffi.ce at Gettysburg as second-class matter Voi,. XII GETTYSBURG, PA., APRIL, 1903 No. 2 Editor-in-ch ief LYMAN A. GUSS, '04 Exchange Editor M. ROY HAMSHER, '04 Business Manager F. GARMAN MASTERS, '04 Asst. Business Manager A. L. DIHENBECK, '05 Associate Editors M. ADA MCLINN, '04 BRUCE P. COBAUGH, '05 C. EDWIN BUTTER, '05 Advisory Board PROF. J. A. HIMES, LITT. D. PROF. G. D. STAHI,EY, M.D. PROF. J. W. RICHARD, D.D. Published each month, from October to June inclusive, by the joint literary societies of Pennsylvania (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 contribute. All subscriptions and business matter should be addressed to the Busi-ness Manager. Articles for publication shoidd be addressed to the Editor. Address THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY, GETTYSBURG, PA. ■ THE REASON WHY EDITORIALS. Scientists tell us that in this world of ours all is strife. Of all the forces in the universe every one is antagonistic to every other. The domin-ating and controling are eternally being opposed by the minor and subordinate. All is constant strain. In the physical world the animating energies of nature are continually work-ing counter to one another. Although there is interpenetration yet there is resistance. In the lowest forms of life, in the smallest microcosms, there is unrelenting conflict. In a higher grade we find the same warfare exemplified in the continued existence of the most capable. Finally the antagonism finds its culmination in the great struggle for existence common to the race. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 73 Even as this is the climax, so it is likewise the point of demarcation. Success now crowns the efforts of the strong ; failure those of the weak. Success! That for which all men hope. Strength ! The means by which they attain it. The latter is the cause, the former the effect. The inference is ready. The effect is the necessary consequential of the cause, but let it not be supposed that the strength incident to success is that typical of a Cyclops, or that symbolic of a Hercules. Rather it is that kind which has been evinced by the master-minds of all ages—intellectual strength. And this is the reason why men go to college ; to attain intellectual power, to cultivate brain-energy, to discipline mental vigor, to learn to appreciate the good, the beautiful and the true, to exalt their being in every way tending to symmet-rical development and, in short, to bring out all that is worth the effort in self. But too often, alas, do college men fail to realize the vitality of their situation; they neglect to seize circumstance and to clinch with time, pregnant with the possibilities of future great-ness. Too frequently is the collegiate life considered one of imposing task work, a mighty preponderance of labor over-shadowing the student. Hence his constant aim is to elimin-ate it, not by conquering it, in which case the law of compen-sation yields ready returns, but by shirking it, whence comes only a void which the craving of later years will seek in vain to satisfy. Instead of surmounting obstacles he shuns them, instead of trodding boldly over the rocky places he rides over them, while his companion plods. But the tortoise beat the hare at the finish. This is the reason why some college men are, and forever will be, in the great but glorious struggle for existence. Their lot must ever be commonplace. They can-not rise above the common level of humanity. The scholar must overcome, not surrender, must conquer, not submit, and must take advantage of all advantages. As Winter, with his cold and stormy winds takes his departure, Spring appears before us in all the beauty of awakening life, and if there is one place especially favored with a beautiful Spring-time it OPPORTUNITIES OF SPRING. 74 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. is the country surrounding Gettysburg. Not only do the climate and natural contour of the country with its hills, woods and creeks make it pleasing, but the avenues over the battle-field furnish ideal walks for recreation hours. For the lover of natural scenery this country furnishes a magnificent prospect with charming color effects. To the botanist it gives a most varied flora. The country is also full of birds. Many rare kinds may be found by the close observer. One of the stu-dents has counted thirty different kinds of birds from his win-dow already this Spring. For the student of geology the land formations will repay any attention given them. And if one unfortunately should have no taste for any of these things he can at least study the history of his country in the many mon-uments and tablets erected over the battlefield. Rarely does one find a place so inviting to the man who wishes to increase his store of general knowledge; and these delightful spring days furnish time to make use of the opportunities. Instead of a spring fever that gives one a desire to loaf and neglect all his work let him contract a fever for making use of what Gettysburg and her surroundings offer him in the above men-tioned lines. THE TRUTH FOR In all colleges there exists a spirit of mis- ITS OWN SAKE, chief and diablerie. No college is without it; none can be without it. It is peculiar to the college world. As such it can scarcely be called an infection, yet it is in the atmosphere, and may be said to be an all-pervading character-istic of every collegiate community. The infusion of this unavoidable, yet not always desirable, element in the student body often finds its manifestation in some overt acts on behalf of its most arduous enthusiasts, rang-ing even from the quite insignificant to the violent, but for the most part in our own college this diablery has existed only in a dormant state, and its most ostentatious expression has been, excepting extremely rare cases, of a mediocre kind. Therefore, when in its mild form it so impels a few students to commit a mischievious act of harmless and unimportant con-sequences, resulting in nothing but a slight inconvenience to THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 75 the usual routine of college affairs, why should it be enlarged upon to such proportions and amplified to such an enormity as was the case in the recent chapel disorder? Such misstatements as appeared rife and rank in the city papers a few days ago cannot help but redound to the degredation of the good name of the college. May not our reporters be more considerate in noting details? May we not have more of the truth for its own sake ? ALUMNI REUNIONS. As the spring term opens we gradually be-come aware of the approaching end of the collegiate year. Then naturally our minds turn to the events which always take place at such time and the abundance of pleasure derived from their occurrence. In other words, we begin to think about commencement and its attendant circum-stances. This time is undoubtedly the most enjoyable time of the year, but its success is only made possible by the presence of the students, in the first case, and by the alumni, in no less degree, in the second. One of the best means perhaps of per-suading the congregation of a large -number of alumni is by class reunions. The class spirit never dies out in the breast of the college man, and if he can come to his alma mater with the expectation of meeting old-time friends and class-mates, the chances of his coming, no doubt, will be greatly enhanced. The class spirit, redoubled by the college spirit, would certainly act as a powerful stimulus or persuasion in inducing the alum-nus to visit the scene of his college days. It is to be hoped that we may have several class reunions at least during the coming commencement week. Now is the time to arrange for them. EXCHANGES. The editor of the average college literary monthly is usually at a loss for material to make the magazine truly interest-ing to all its readers. Several of our exchanges seem to have struck the proper means of awaking interest, in publishing 76 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. articles on travel and foreign lands, written by recent graduates. "Random Sketches" in The Otterbein Aegis was written by an alumnus travelling in Europe. The Swarthmore Phoenix contains an article on "A Journey to the Second Cataract of the Nile" and another on "University Life Abroad," written by a graduate of Swarthmore, who had taken a course in the Ger-man Universities. Such contributions certainly add to the in-terest and value of a college monthly. There is the danger, however, that the true object of a college paper, which con-sists in securing literary contributions from the students, may thereby be neglected or forgotten. The Pharetra comes out in a very pretty blue and white dress with the representation of a demure college maiden on its cover page. We find several delightful storiettes in the last number; and may say that the paper is characterized by a general tone of pleasantness rather than by any philosophic traits. "Tell a tale of troubles March wind and April rain, Second term has ended Marks are here again— Sing a song of quizzes, Are we to take them all? Reports they'll soon be reading, How great may be the fall!" —Maryland Collegian, The Mountaineer has again devoted the greater part of her exchange column to a pleasant criticism of our former editor. We agree with one of our exchanges in saying that our col-league of Mt. St. Mary's should not have blamed the MERCURY representative for words that were not his; and that he should reconcile his preaching with his practice. We sincerely hope that our "smoky" (?) article will cease to inflame the wrath of our neighbor. May we add our regrets that The Mountaineer of last month has not arrived in time to be reviewed. Among the influences that tend to corrupt our speech there is none more pernicious than the play upon words. It is with THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 77 some surprise then, that we find an article entitled "A Defense of Shakespeare," in one of the college papers, which ends with the following paragraphs : "In the second place, why should anyone who loved the name of BACON SO lose all sense of his own dignity and all respect for his own good name as to give a play of "his own make" by the name of "Ham-let." "Now I hope I have made myself clear and vindicated my client. If I have not, this has been 'Love's Labor Lost'— yea, even more ! it has been 'Much Ado About Nothing.' This, however, is a serious matter; it is no 'MidsummerNight's Dream' but a plain 'Winter's Tale.' Take it ^As You Like It' but remember All's Well That End's Well.' " EASTER LILIES. Sweet emblems of a purity unknown to earth, They wake the soul of man to aspirations fair, And fill the palace—aye, the cot of meanest worth— With fragrance like the incense of an angel's prayer. So fragile all, so weak, they seem a tempting prey To every hostile gale—each hand untaught of ruth; But ah ! the spoiler e'en should know that in the day That beauty dies, the world must die to love and truth. Fit consorts these of faith and prayer and holy praise; Mute worshippers and witnesses of Him above, Whose skill can wed to matchless glory simplest grace, And veil in wondrous art the mysteries of love. —University of Va. Magazine. The Monthly Maroon has a poem to Robert Louis Stevenson as its frontispiece. One of the best features of this number is the well-written paper on Stevenson, depicting the life and character of this Scottish author. "Unto the End" is a beau-tiful story; the author portrays an ideal love which seems none the less real for its beauty. Some of the shorter stories are of a bravado character, but "The Cub-Errant" depicts a phase of college life seldom represented. 78 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. Quite a number of the exchanges this month contain "Char-acter Sketches" of different great men or characters in fiction. We refer the reader particularly to "Francis Parkman : a Study-in Success," in the Nassau Literary Magazine ; and "Mr. Jack Hamlin," a study of one of Bret Harte's heroes in the College Student. This is a most commendable kind of essay-writing, and every student should try his ability along this line. The Medico-Chirurgical College of Philadelphia, DEPARTMENT OF MEDICINE Offers exceptional facilities to graduates of Gettysburg College, especially to those who have taken a medical preparatory or biological course. The instruction is thoroughly practical, particular attention being given to laboratory work and bed-side and ward-class teaching. Ward-classes are limited in size. A modified seminar method is a special feature of the Course. Free quizzing in all branches by the Professors and a special staff of Tutors. The College has also a Department of Dentistry and a Department of Pharmacy. All Gettysburg College students are cordially invited to inspect the College and Clinical Amphitheatre at any time. For announcements or information apply to SENECA EGBERT, Dean of the Department of Medicine, 17th & Cherry Streets, PHILADELPHIA, PA. tfrjp, \\ \ Co. 140-144 Woodward Avenue, DETROIT, MICH. Send for Catalogue and Price List- Special Designs on Application, Manufacturers of high grade Fraternity Emblems Fraternity Jewelry Fraternity Novelties Fraternity Stationery Fraternity Invitations Fraternity Announcements Fraternity Programs PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. ^m«*mw«««w*«»mw*««««w«m«*«w««««« AMOS ECKERT Latest Styles in HATS, SHOES AND GENT'S FURNISHING .Our specialty. WALK-OVER SHOE AMOS ECKERT Prices always right The Lutheran puMigfjing {louse. No. 1424 Arch Street PHILADELPHIA, PA. Acknowledged Headquarters for anything and everything in the way of Books for Churches, Col-leges, Families and Schools, and literature for Sunday Schools. PLEASE REMEMBER That by sending your orders to us you help build up and devel-op one of the church institutions with pecuniary advantage to yourself. Address H. S. BONER, Supt. FAVOR THOSE WHO FAVOR US. E.C.TAWNEY Is ready to furnish Clubs and Boarding Houses with . Bread, Rolls, Etc., At short notice and reason-able rates. Washington & Middle Sts., Gettysburg. Shoes J^epaifed J. H- BAKER, 115 Baltimore St. near Court House. Good Work Guaranteed. J. W. BUMBAUGH'S City Cafe and Dining Room Meals and lunches served at short notice. Fresh pies and sandwiches always on hand. Oysters furnished all year. 53 Chambersburg' St. mm mmm m m. 3 :V\= :**: :\*= A*= A*: - : -\\= A\= A^ -V*: =VX= I U-PI-DKE. A new Co-cd has alighted in town, U-pi-dee, U-pi-da! In an up-to-datest tailor-made gown.,U-pi-de-i-cla ! The boys are wild, and prex is, too, You never saw such a hulla-ba-loo. C HOKUS. — U-pi-dee-i-dee-i-da! etc. Her voice is clear as a soaring lark's, And her wit is like those trolley-car sparks ! When 'cross a muddy street she flits, The boys all have conniption fits 1 The turn of her head turns all ours, ton. There's always a strife to sit in her pew; 'Tis enough to make a parson drunk, To hear her sing old co-ca-che-lunk ! M The above, and three other NEW verses to U-PI-DEE, Cl/fl antl NEW WORDS, catchy, uo-to-date, to many Tl others of the popular OLD FAMILIAR TUNES; be- Ph> sides OLD FAVORITES ;nnd also many NEW SONGS. fTff SONGS OF ALL THE COLLEGES. jfbji Copjriciit. Price, $r.jo, postpaid. IPOO. ULU HINDS & NOBLE, Publishers, New York City. ! ff ff Schoolbooks of all publishers at one store. } n*pv7 r«z A*: **= Act= :\*r :**= z\^= =«r =**=^A\= r _C^_JC^ JC J^ _c _e^ _c^ i m PI mm PI PI mmm PI 50 YEARS' EXPERIENCE TRADE MARKS DESIGNS COPYRIGHTS AC. Anvono sending a sketch and description may quickly ascertain our opinion free whether an invention is probably patentable. Communica-tions strictly confidential. Handbook on Patents sent free. Oldest agency for securing patents. Patents taken through Munn & Co. receive special notice, without charge, in the Scientific Jftnerican. A handsomely illustrated weekly. Largest cir-culation of any scientific journal. Terms, $3 a year; four months, $1. Sold, by all newsdealers. MUNN & Co.36,Broadwa^ New York Branch Office. C26 F St., Washington, D. C. GO TO. HARRY B. SEFTON'S (Barber (Shop For a good shave or hair cut. Barbers' supplies a specialty. Razor Strops, Soaps, Brushes, Creams, Combs, etc. Jfo. 38 Baltimore St. GETTYSBURG. You will find a full line of Pure Drugs and Fine Stationery at the People's Drug Store Prescriptions a specialty. / PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTIZERS. FURNITURE Mattresses, Bed Springs, Iron Beds, Picture Frames, Repair Work done promptly. Under-taking a specialty. * Telephone No. 97. S. IB- Bendei 37 naltimor St., Gettysburg, Pa. THE STEWART & STEEN CO. College EngTCLvers and, (J?Tvnters 1024 Aroli St., Philadelphia, Pa. MAKERS AND PUBLISHERS OF Commencement, Class Day Invitations and Programs, Class Pins and Buttons in Gold and Other Metals, Wedding Invitations and Announcements, At Home Cards, Reception Cards and Visiting Cards, Visiting Cards—Plate and 50 cards, 75 cents. Special Discount to Students. N. A. YEANY, Gettysburg College Representative. 4. §. Raiding & §ros., Largest Manufacturers in the World of Official Athletic Supplies. - Base Ball Lawn Tennis Golf ield Hockey Official Athletic Implements. Spalding's Catalogue of Athletic Sports Mailed Free to any Address. A. G. Spalding & Bros. NEW YORK - . CHICAGO - - DENVER - - BUFFALO - - BALTIMORE WE RECOMMEND THESE FIRMS. The Pleased Customer is not a stranger in our estab-lishment— he's right at home, you'll see him when you call. 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Issue 61.1 of the Review for Religious, 2002. ; ,2002 VOLUME 61 NUMBER'1 Review for Religious helps people respond and be faitlsful to God's universal call to tsoliness by making available to them the spiritual legades tbat flow from the cbarisms of Catholic consecrated 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 changes to Review for Religious ° P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2002 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be consi~tered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. .for religious LIVING OUR CATHOLIC LEGACIES Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisot7 Board David L. Fleming SJ Clare Boehmer ASC Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp Jame~ and Joan Felling Adrian Gaudin SC Sr. Raymohd Marie Gerard FSP Eugene Hen,sell OSB Ernest E. Larkin OCarm Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla sJ Miriam D. Ukeriti~ CSJ JANUARY FEBRUARY 2002 VOLUME 61 NUMBER 1 contents 6 religious culture Teresa: Story Theologian and Transforzner of Culture Mary Frohlich HM provides a different lens for reading The Book of Her Foundations by Teresa of Avila in order to find some of Teresa's most profound teaching about the potential fruits of the contemplative life. 23 Instilling Christian/Religious Culture: Instinct and Connaturality Nihal Abeyasingha CSSR envisages a rationally planned and directed program for the transmission of the "subculture" of religious life and the "culture" of the Christian life to new entrants. 39 Conversion: A Summons from the Word of God 51 Kathleen McMpin RSM explores how the word of God comes to us through daily life experiences, calling us to an ongoing conversion that leads to mercy as justice. Seminary Formation and Lonergan's Conversion Theory Steve Wlusek uses Bernard Lonergan's theory of conversions to illuminate personal development in seminary formation. Review for Religious 57 moral insight The Workers in the Vineyard: Insights for the Moral Life Patricia Ann Lamoureux and Paul Zilonka CP reflect on one Gospel parable as an example of how to develop moral theology in accordance with biblical vision. 70 Creative Response to Racism Mary Alice Chineworth OSP shares her experiences of racism within the religious-life context. adaptive prayer 75 Lectio Divina: A Means to Wholeness Mary Ren~e Nienaber SND reviews the six parts that make up the practice of lectio divina, which fosters a spiritual-life wholeness. 84 St. Albert's Method: 19th-Annotation Retreats at Parishes and Schools Hank Hilton SJ shares an adaptation of the retreat method according to the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius for larger group settings in a parish or school situation. departments 4 Prisms 97 Canonical Counsel: Transfer 104 Book Reviews January-February 2002 prisms ¯ I .l.s we enter into the second year of this new millennium, the world presents us with a different face. The September 11, 2001, events that took place in the United States brought about a coop-erative stance of many of the world's nations against a terrorism grown to huge and horrendous proportions. Many agree in perceiving that terrorism breeds in behav-iors that denigrate others, in poverty that dehumanizes, and in politics that canonizes a status quo. Throughout history, there have been wars of religion, but today peo-ple question whether any war can be valued as religious or justified as just. No one could have suspected that the call which Pope John Paul II made only a year ago in his apostolic letter "At the Beginning of the New Millennium" would ring out with even greater challenge. The pope signaled our approach to this new age in the gospel words of Jesus "duc in altum," "put out into the deep" (Lk 5:4). He saw the new millennium as a vast ocean onto which the world's peoples were setting sail. We needed to hear God's call to set forth--fearlessly--because we often prefer to live with what is known, the past and the pre-sent. It is truly difficult, and sometimes fearful, to move into a future unknown and uncontrollable. Beyond our imagining, this is where we find ourselves as we begin the new year. John Paul II talked about a new face of Christ with which we refamiliarized ourselves as we entered into this Review for Religqous new millennium--a face that we had been contemplating in three preparatory years. When the pope had us focus on the face of Jesus in sorrow, we little realized that we would see that face in image after image during the final months of this past year. Where the pope turned our attention also to the face of Jesus who is risen, we found many weary faces of hope and help that became a part of our international drama. Beyond all our imaginings, we have been given a Pauline conversion moment in seeing Christ. This face arouses no fear, but rather leads us only to new ways of living, loving, and working. The pope challenged all Christians to be, and so to act as, "agents of communion." Being agents of communion is a necessary identity of being Christian in this age calling for a new evange-lizatiofi. The continuing public cooperation of many leaders of the various world religious traditions, especially Christian, Jewish, and Muslim, concretizes for us what an agent of communion attempts. Never have Jesus' directions about praying for our ene-mies and for those who do us wrong been writ so large and clear on the screen of our consciousness. Religious services, both in the public forum and in the neighborhood .church, have incarnated Jesus' injunction and continue to feed personal ways of praying. Humanitarian efforts to help the Afghan people in the midst of a wartime effort against their nation's ruling power are also an action of agents of communion. If images played out so vividly on the world stage call forth such prayer and action, we cannot fail to examine ourselves anew in our own little world of prayer and relationships. How does our prayer need to be enlarged beyond our narrow focusing on self, those dear to us, and our local concerns for well-being? What are the deeds we do that bring about a greater sense of community, of people working together, of a reaching out to the forgotten and neglected? Yes, the face of our world has changed, we say. But does this new face not give us the opportunity to see the face of Christ more clearly and to act, like Christ, as agents of communion? The Greek word kairos signified not ordinary measurement of time (chronos) but rather the special time of encounter with God. This kairos moment challenges us to set out fearlessly into the deep, "duc in altunl. " David L. Fleming SJ January-February 2002 MARY FROHLICH Teresa: Story Theologian and Transformer of Culture Even among fans of Teresa of Avila, comparatively few have read The Book of Her Foundations. Why has Foundations been comparatively neglected in relation to Teresa's other works? Probably because it has a rather different character. Although Teresa can never be accused of being a "systematic thinker," her other three books (the Book of Her Life, the Way of Perfection, and the Interior Castle) offer more or less organic overviews of contemplative life and development. If one looks for the same in the Foundations, one is likely at first to be disappointed. Here, however, I will pro-pose that, by reading with a different lens, we may find in this book some of Teresa's most profound teaching about the potential fruits of the contempla-tive life. ¯ Through the lens I experiment with here, Teresa can be seen as what Terrence Tilley calls a "story the-ologian." In 1972, when Teresa was named one of the first two female doctors of the church, the question arose how someone who was clearly not a systematic theologian, but rather an image-smith and a story- Mary Frohlich HM is associate professor of spirituality at Chicago Theological Union; 5401 South Cornell Avenue; Chicago, Illinois 60615. Review for Religi'ous teller, could attain this title. Since that time, awareness has grown that, in fact, stories and images are at the grass roots of all the theology that has ever been created and communicated. The example par excellence of "story theology" is the Bible. In his book Story Theology, Tilley proposes that theology in this genre has three major tasks: (1) to tell new and flesh stories which show a new era what the key Christian words mean, (2) to transform creatively the narratives handed down by tradi-tion, and (3) to proclaim and manifest the Good News in a way that speaks to and transforms the heart of a culture) In this article I explore Teresa's Foundations as an example of story the-ology that has a remarkable capacity to transform the heart of her culture and, as a classic, all cultures. The Text and Its Context The thirty-one chapters of the Foundations recount, in vary-ing degrees of detail, the circumstances and efforts pertaining to the founding of seventeen Discalced Carmelite monasteries. The text consists mainly of stories--some humorous, some poignant, some edifying, some pretty incredible--interspersed with shorter or longer asides of sage advice for her nuns and especially for her prioresses. Other features include several hagiographical accounts of the remarkable lives and deeds of individual nuns, friars, and benefactors and, of course, a good deal of autobiographical information about Teresa's attractions, friendships, physical sufferings, and moods. In short, the Foundations is decidedly not an organic presentation of spiritual principles, but rather more of a "down and dirty" chronicle of what happens when one tries to do God's work in this raucous and resistant "real world" in which we live. And that, I think, is why at this time in my life I am so strongly drawn to the Foundations. It is certainly not because I am any less interested in the interior life, but because I am now even more interested in what difference it makes. By that I do not mean taking a utilitarian approach to prayer, as if it has no value unless one can immediately see its fruits. I mean something more like what Teresa says at the end of the Interior Castle (VII.4.6): "This is the reason for prayer, my daughters, the pur-pose of this spiritual marriage: the birth always of good works, January-February 2002 Frohlich ¯ Teresa: Story Theologian The Foundations is the "first fruit" (literarily speaking) of Teresa's spiritual marriage. good works." In the Foundations we see what that statement meant, concretely, in Teresa's own life. Like the apostles in Acts, Teresa in the Foundations is a woman of mission, sent forth into the hurly-burly of the real world to Fooperate with the Holy Spirit in the construction of multiple "dwelling places of God," places that are not only interior but also physical and social and political, places in which deep interiority can find a home and can continue to be propagated far and wide. In view of this, it is helpful to note where the writing of the Foundations occurred in Teresa's life. Teresa was forty-seven years old when, in 1562, she made her first Discalced founda-tion at St. Joseph's in Avila. Over the next four years, she wrote her Life and the Way of Perfection and ¯ then began the whirlwind of founding activity that would continue until the end of her life. Nine new Discalced monasteries had already been established by the time Teresa received the grace of spiritual marriage on 18 November 1572 at age fifty-seven. It was about nine months after this breakthrough spiritual event that she began to write The Book of Her Foundations. Work on this text con-tinued intermittently until November 1576, by which time she had completed twenty-seven chapters and made four more foundations. Between June 1577 and November, right in the midst of one of the most intense periods of squabbling and harassment related to her reforming activity, she wrote the entire text of the Interior Castle. Finally, between 1580 and 1582, she made four more foundations and added their stories to the text of the Foundations. Chapter 31 and the epilogue were completed only a few months before her death on 4 October 1582 at age sixty-seven. Two things are interesting to note here. One is that this book, the Foundations, is the "first fruit" (literarily speaking) of Teresa's spiritual marriage. The other is that the first and last parts of the Foundations form a kind of sandwich around the Interior Castle. These two books are closely related to each other. Together--not separately--they are the fully developed fruit of -o°-j Teresa's human and spiritual maturity. And so, before delving Review for Religqous more deeply into the Foundations, let us review what Teresa says about the spiritual marriage in the Interior Castle. Spiritual Marriage: At One with God, Sell and World In the Seventh Dwelling Places of the Interior Castle, Teresa teaches that the soul that receives the culminating grace of the spiritual marriage is brought fully into its own center, where God alone dwells. Like a river that has flowed into the ocean, the soul now is completely and unchangeably at one with God. This differs from earlier stages of union and rapture in that here the faculties are not lost. That is, one retains the ability to understand what is happening and to carry on external activities even while in this form of union. This latter is especially impor-tant: Teresa repeatedly emphasizes that the purpose of the spir-itual marriage is not rest and delight, but to be joined to the sufferings of Christ and to spend oneself on behalf of souls. She describes the typical condition of such a person as consisting of deep interior peace while enduring extremes of exterior per-secution, struggle, and hard work for the sake of the gospel. When we put the stories told in the Foundations next to this, Teresa's astute but rather decontextualized description of spir-itual marriage takes on life. The stories reveal to us how Teresa's transformed interior self was united not only with God, but also in a transformative way with the physical, social, cultural, and ecclesial world in which she lived. In other words, the stories both depict and enact the way persons in spiritual marriage gain the capacity to transform their cultural world at its heart. Most obviously, the stories about Teresa herself depict a union of the divine and human, played out in this feisty, witty, and indomitable woman's adventures in living her gospel mission amidst the gritty reality of business affairs, human squabbles, stress, and struggle that looks a lot like what we all deal with in our day-to-day lives. But it is in Teresa's minibiographies of holy Christians--most of them women--that she expresses most fascinatingly for the heart of her culture the explosive truth of the gospel. It is by a deep reading of these stories that we may begin to get a glimpse of what it means to call Teresa a "story theologian and transformer of culture." January-February 2002 Froblicls ¯ Teresa: Story Theologian A "Little Story": The Testimony of a Female Infant Let us listen, then, to Teresa's stoW about Dofia Teresa de Layz, founding benefactress of the monastery at Mba de Tormes. As the fifth daughter of parents who desperately wanted a son, she was such a disappointment to them that--although they took care to have her baptized at once--they left her alone all day "as if she mattered little to them." The stoW continues: When at nightfall a woman came who was taking care of the baby and found out what was going on, she has-tened to see if the child was dead . Weeping, the woman took the baby into her arms and, complaining of the cruelty, said: "How is it, my daughter, are you not a Christian?" The baby girl lifted her head and answered, "Yes, I am," and spoke no more until reach-ing that age at which all children begin to speak. (20.4)2 At first glance we may find this story a bit. incredible. It is what Alex Garcfa-Rivera, in his recent book about the mulatto saint Martin de Porres, calls a "little story.''3 While "big stories" aim to speak universal truth and are acclaimed by those belonging to dominant cultures, "little stories" like this give the appearance of just being naive or superstitious tales aimed at the poor and uneducated. For example, many "little stories" about St. Martin de Porres tell of the saint healing animals and speaking with them as if they were human persons. Garcfa-Rivera shows how, despite their lowly appearance, "little stories" like those may actually convey potent gospel messages of the reversal of values. In a culture where those (such as Martin) with Indian or African blood were regarded as "like animals," the stories of him treat-ing animals "like humans" imaged a shocking upending of all-too- common assumptions. Garcfa-Rivera shows how in such popular "little stories" marginalized people not only express their conflicted position within cultural and religious systems of power, but also challenge and reinterpret those systems within a faith context. Tellers of "little stories" are ci'eatively working out painful personal struggles for meaning and identity and at the same time are offering their culture something new and potentially transformative.4 In view of this, there may be a lot more being conveyed by Teresa's "little stow" of the abandoned infant who speaks up Review for Religious for herself than we would see with only a superficial reading. Teresa is graphically expressing what was probably the most painful fact affecting her own struggle for meaning and identity, namely, the extreme devaluing of the female sex within the Spanish culture of that time. This poignant story of child aban-donment impresses readers with the death-dealing consequences of that devaluation more than any bare assertion ever could. There is more, however, in this story. The newborn female child miraculously speaks, testifying that she is a Christian. Teresa expresses deep irony here, for within the cultural mentality of the time it was as incredible for any female to speak in the name of the gospel as it would be if a newborn infant spoke intelligibly. Thus, through her "little story," Teresa artfully but quite potently affirms women's God-given vocation to proclaim the gospel. In fact, she is claiming that females and others who are cultur-ally regarded as valueless may be even more gifted by God than those who have been accorded an approved voice.5 Tellers of "'little stories" are offering their culture something new and potentially transformative. The Challenges of Teresa's World The stow, then, indirectly but powerfully presents a gospel perspective on the sociocultural and historical situation in which Teresa found herself.6 Let us review the characteristics of that situation and the very serious risks it posed for Teresa and her mission. Throughout the 16th century the Spanish Roman Catholic hierarchy was becoming increasingly rigid and con-trolling towards a series of perceived thi'eats to its authority. The first perceived threat was that of "judaizing" tendencies among those whose ancestors had been forced to convert from Judaism to Catholicism in 1492. Teresa came from such a con-verso family, a fact she always had to conceal, but which was probably known or suspected by many of her contemporaries. In this milieu those with Jewish blood were always considered sus-pect, regardless of their personal belief and behavior. Teresa, January-February 2002 Frohlich ¯ Teresa: Story Theologian The pain that led to Teresa's transformative storytelling was the spiritual anguish of one with a soul-hunger for God. therefore, was deeply sensitive to all forms of marginalization. The story of the child unwanted by people but gifted by God is about women, but it is. also a basic gospel message applicable to all who are devalued in human eyes. The second perceived threat of that era was the so-called "Lutherans," a category that expanded to include anyone who appeared to express any lack of respect for the pope, the priesthood, or the sacraments. It is noteworthy that, in the story of the infant Teresa de Layz, Teresa makes a point of saying that she was baptized, thereby depicting the child's amazing testi-mony not as a random outbreak of the supernatural, but asthe miraculous fruit of sacramental initiation. This is an important nuance, and typical of Teresa's careful balance in relation to the concerns of her environment. The third perceived threat of the time was a growing wave of illuminists or alumbrados, who claimed special spiritual author-ity on the basis of their mystical experiences and visions. Many of the alumbrados who were prosecuted by the inquisition were women; in the mentality in Spain at the time, women's assumed inferior intelligence made them particularly susceptible to being seduced by the devil. This pr6blem was exacerbated by the Index of 1559, which made most Spanish-language books on prayer and spirituality unavailable and thus prevented women--very few of whom were trained in Latin--from having access to the technical vocabulary and the theology of the spiritual life. Thus, throughout her life but espe.cially during the peak period of her activities of founding and writing, Teresa faced a huge personal and political challenge. Her culture insisted that no mujercita or "little woman"--particularly one of converso back-ground-- should be teaching others about the spiritual life, let alone doing so on the authority of her own spiritual experiences. In view of this, the.seemingly innocent "little story" of the baby Teresa de Layz speaks volumes to those who can read between Review for Religious the lines. Far from being merely a cute and improbable anec-dote suited to the low intellectual capacities of the mujercitas, it is a subtle and explosive parable aimed directly at the very heart of the antigospel forces that impinged upon Teresa's vocation to live out the full effects of her spiritual marriage. What Fueled Teresa's Imagination? In the story of Teresa de Layz, we see Teresa doing exactly what Terrence Tilley describes as the mandate of "story theol-ogy," namely, creatively telling the gospel story for her own culture. But where did Teresa's creative genius as a "story theologian" come from? Elaine Scarry's book The Body in Pain proposes that the basic motivator of creative imagination is pain? A simple, everyday example is the pinch of hunger, which moves us to creatively find a way around any obstacle that is preventing us from getting food. Several recent feminist inter-preters have taken a similar perspective on Teresa, proposing that her creative activity as writer and foundress was primarily a way of subverting the painful limitations imposed on her by her status as a woman in a repressive patriarchal milieu.8 There is an important element of truth here, yet it only goes halfway. The pain that led to Teresa's transformative sto-rytelling was not only social and cultural; it was the spiritual anguish of one with a soul-hunger for God. Above all, Teresa felt herself called to pursue the life of mystical union in its fullness, and to cooperate with God in creating the best possible condi-tions and guidance for others to do the same.9 Yet, as we have seen, there were many serious cultural obstacles to her doing this. She contended, then, with two sources of pain: both the interior rending that resulted from her hurtling into God and the exterior conflict stirred up by her determined efforts to live out her call to be a woman of God, a preacher of the gospel, and a foundress. Let us look at another story to see bow Teresa wrestled creatively and imaginatively with these inner and outer conflicts. "Uppity Women": Catalina Godlnez and Teresa This is Teresa's account of the sudden conversion of Catalina ~1~3~ .~anuary-February 2002 Froblicb ¯ Teresa: Story Theologian Godfnez, founding benefactress and one of the first to enter the monastery at Beas: [Catalina] had been thinking of a marriage that was being sought for her, which was better than she could have hoped for, and saying to herself: "With what lit-tle my father is content, that I.become connected with an entailed estate; I am thinking of becoming the ori-gin of a new line of descendants." She was not inclined toward marriage, for she considered it demeaning to be subject to someone; nor did she know where this pride came from . The moment she read the inscription [on a nearby crucifix], it seemed to her that, just as sunshine enters a dark room, a light came into her soul by which she understood the truth . Thus she began to despise herself, to have .great desires for penance, which after-ward she put into effect. She at once promised chastity and poverty and wanted to see herself so subject that she would have rejoiced to be carried off then to the land of the Moors and remain there. All of these virtues lasted in her, so that the experience was clearly seen to be a supernatural favor from our Lord. (22.5-6) The story continues on for many pages, recounting an uproar of demons disturbed by Catalina's conversion, then her conflicts with her parents, who refused to give her permission to become a nun, her extreme penances and illnesses, and finally her dra-matic challenge to her relatives and to God that, if she were healed by a certain day, she should be permitted to become a nun. Sure enough, on the appointed day she rose from her bed, ready to assist Teresa in founding the monastery of Beas. Some feminist interpreters have pointed out the fascinat-ing tension he?e between Teresa's delight in portraying Catalina's feisty statement of her desire to "found her own lineage" and not to be subject to anyone and her equal delight in portraying Catalina's conversion to fervent desire for suffering and sub-jection. The dramatic tension between willfulness and obedi-ence continues to play out in the story as Catalina steadfastly refuses to be subject to the wishes of her parents or relatives and then endures years of extreme physical suffering while stub-bornly holding out for fulfillment of her personal vision. It is a Review for Relig4ous great story in itself, and it is a prime illustration of a tension, at the heart of Teresa's story theology, between her culturally sub-versive claim for female authority and her acceptance of abso-lute obedience to God. In the eyes of her culture, Catalina Godfnez was, like Teresa, an "uppity woman." When Catalina dares to say in so many words that she wanted to "found her own lineage" and be sub-ject to no one, one can hardly help hearing Teresa behind her saying, "And look at me! In making these foundations I am actually doing it! I am founding my own female lineage!" Yet, in the next few lines, Teresa successfully dissociates her-self from the "pride" of such a statement as she affirms that God has supernaturally transformed Catalina so that she now desires to be subject to everyone and to be humiliated with Christ cruci-fied. It is as if Teresa is saying, "This is the way my new female lineage will be founded: not in pride, but in humble union with God." While some feminist interpreters have presumed that Teresa's frequent protestations of humility and obedience are largely a smokescreen thrown up to obscure her real goals of female power, my interpretation would be that her commitment to humility and obedience in relation to God was indeed radi-cal. For example, at the heart of all Teresa's stories about her founding activities is the conviction that God is the real founder. She repeatedly says things like "I want our Lord to make known to everyone how in these foundations we creatures have done next to nothing. The Lord directed all by means of such lowly beginnings that only His Majesty could have raised the work to what it now is" (13.7). Although her words about doing "next to nothing" are somewhat hyperbolic, her core conviction is clear: both the initiative and the ultimate success of her found-ing activity come from God. Indeed, it is exactly because she believed her commission for this work came from God that she was willing and able to take such great risks on behalf of estab- At the heart of all Teresa's stories about her founding activities is the conviction that God is the real founder. January-Februa~y 2002 Froblicb * Teresa: Story Theologian lishing the authority and lineage of women. Radical Obedience and the Lineage of Women The next story is one example of these linked commitments to radical obedience and to the spiritual lineage of holy women. In chapter 28 she recounts at great length the story of Dofia Catalina de Cardona,who left her life among the nobility for a hermitage, where she wore coarse cloth, ate only every third day, took the discipline with a heavy chain, and practiced many other harsh austerities and virtuous acts. Later on she suffered greatly in order to found the Discalced friars' monastery at Pastrana. One day Teresa, after Commu'nion in the church there (which was on the site of Dofia Catalina's original hei'mitage), experienced a "suspension." She states: In this suspension, through an intellectual vision, this holy woman appeared in a glorified body and some angels with her. She told me not to grow weary, but that I should strive to go ahead with these foundations. I understood, although she did not indicate this, that she was helping me before God. She also told me something else, but there is no reason to put it here in writing. I was left very much consoled and with a great desire to work hard, and I hope in the goodness of the Lord that with help as good as these prayers of hers I will be able to serve Him in some way. (28.36) In this story Teresa not only explicitly claims the patronage of a holy female spiritual ancestor in her work of founding, but also implicitly affirms what Gillian Ahlgren calls the "visionary epis-temology" that, for at least four centuries before Teresa's time, had been the primary path to spiritual empowerment for women,l° A visionary epistemology asserts that real knowledge of God and real wisdom in relation to the world are conveyed through visionary experience. Throughout the Middle Ages, when women were systematically denied access to theological education and to positions of ecclesial power, the main route by which women could gain religious status and voice was by claim-ing to have visions or locutions in which God communicated directly with them. This was always a dangerous path, subject to suspicion and curtailment from powers that felt threatened. But Review for Religious in Teresa's time it was even more dangerous because of the inten-sive inquisitorial campaign that was being waged against the alumbrados, who claimed special religious experiences. It is quite remarkable that Teresa and her claims to special knowledge through visions not only survived in this atmosphere, but actu-ally thrived. To see how she did it, let us look again at her account of her vision of Dofia Catalina de Cardona. Teresa states, first, that the vision took place immediately after Communion, thus affirming an intrinsic connection between her experience and the church's sacraments. She states, second, that it was an intellectual vision, not an imaginative or bodily one. Although all visions were suspect, those involving less of the sensual component were slightly less so. Over time Teresa became increasingly adept at making this kind of tech-nical distinction, helping to allay the fears of her learned cen-sors. Third, her main emphasis in this story is on the good effects of the vision: it encourages her to dedicate herself even more firmly to serving God and building up the church through making monastic foundations. Gillian Ahlgren notes that, while in her earlier writings Teresa lingers longer over the experien-tial aspects of her visions, in later writings she focuses much more on how to discern their authenticity; and her key test was usually to note their effects)1 Thus we see in this story, written very near the end of Teresa's life, the masterful way in which she tiptoes through the minefields of criticism that could easily have doomed her and her projects. And once again we see how she manages to accom-plish two seemingly contradictory goals at once: reaffirming her humility and obedience to the purposes of God and the church and presenting herself as a uniquely favored female apos-tle and heir to a powerful female spiritual lineage. Troubling and Transforming the Status Quo With hindsight we kntw that, despite her radical and auda-cious vision, Teresa not only succeeded in her life's mission but even became a canonized saint and a doctor of the church. Yet, as the Foundations makes abundantly clear, Teresa's founding activities faced formidable obstacles and often stirred up intense opposition. There is high drama in the stories of Teresa push- January-February 2002 Froblicb ¯ Teresa: Story Theologian ing indomitably forward while bishops and religious superiors balk, wealthy people or town councils demand conditions she cannot accept, the owners of desired houses refuse to negotiate or their tenants refuse to vacate the premises, nuns and friars lose heart or get into squabbles with one another, and even the weather, the roads, and her aging body seem increasingly to conspire against her. In all this, Teresa usually attributes any form of suffering or resistance to the devil's opposition to her "good works." But, as Alex Garcfa-Rivera notes in relation to St. Martin de Porres, stories about troublesome demons always seem to appear exactly at the place where the symbols most cherished by cult-oral and political powers are being challenged. In Teresa's case, as we have seen, both her activity of founding and her written works artfully contested some of the key assumptions of the cultural and ecclesial status quo: namely, that women cannot teach or lead, that knowledge of God must come in an institutionally approved package, and that money, pedigree, and "pure blood" are the determinants of honor. It seems that in her spiritual marriage Teresa's ability to speak troublesomely and transfor-matively to the very heart of her culture came to fullness. "Water for All Our Needs" As a way of summing up the gist of the perspective pre-sented here--and, more importantly, of Teresa's key spiritual insights--let us listen to one more "little story" from the Foundations. Teresa recounts what transpired when, in the newly founded monastery at Medina del Campo, the nuns suffered from lack of good water: When I called some workmen to dig a new [well], they laughed at me as though I were wanting to throw money away. I asked the sisters what they thought. One said that it should be tried, that since our Lord would have to provide someone to bring us water as well as food, it would be cheap.er for His Majesty to give us the well on the grounds of the house and that thus He would not fail to do so. Observing the great faith and determination with which she said it, I became certain. And, contrary to the opinion of the Review for Religious one who understood all about founts and water, I went ahead. And the Lord was pleased that we were able to put in a conduit which provided enough water for our needs, and for drinking, and which we now have. (1.4) Once again, we see the mujercitas, the foolish little women who have nothing but their faith, being justified over those who sup-posedly "understood all about founts and water." But there may be more in this "little story," particularly when we recall the importance of the imagery of water, wells, and founts in each of Teresa's major books.~3 Given my original premise that the Foundations needs to be interpreted as a sort of"first fruit" of Teresa's spiritual marriage and as having a special relation to the Interior Castle, around which it forms a sandwich, I think we need to place Teresa's "little story" of the well next to this text from the Seventh Dwelling Places: For from these divine breasts where it seems God is always sustaining the soul there flow streams of milk bringing comfort to all the people of the castle. It seems the Lord desires that in some manner these oth-ers in the castle may enjoy the great deal the soul is enjoying and that from that full-flowing river, where this tiny fount is swallowed .up, a spurt of that water will sometimes be directed toward the sustenance of those who in corporeal things must serve these two who are wed . For just.as a great gush of water could not reach us if it didn't have a source, as I have said, so it is understood clearly that there is Someone in the interior depths who shoots these arrows and gives life to this life. (VII.2.6)14 This text from the Interior Castle is clearly talking about the mystical life. Teresa mixes several biblical images with long his-tories of use by mystical writers, such as the "divine breasts," "streams of milk," and "arrows." But Teresa's central image for the welling up of God's lif( in our interior depths is, as usual, water. Here she proclaims that the water of mystical union does not simply remain in the center of the soul, but gushes abun-dantly outward to sustain, enrich, and heal the whole bodily and psychological person. Yet I believe we can take the image one step further, especially if we understand the human person as an intrinsically relational and social being. After all, it is only January-February 2002 Froblicb ¯ Teresa: Story Theologian a few pages further on that Teresa makes her well-known affir-mation that the purpose of the spiritual marriage is not simply to rest in delightful interiority, but to share those riches with others through "good works." The "little stow" of the well at Medina del Campo is a very concrete, down-to-earth vignette of how the life of mystical union which it is Teresa's mission to promote bears fruit. Here it is physical water that gushes up because of the nuns' faith, providing abundantly for their bod-ily needs. The "spiritual marriage" is complete: divine and human, mystical and physical, are at one. Yet this reading of the Foundations suggests that the outflow of the spiritual marriage goes even further. The nuns' miracu-lous well is also a public testimony to the presence and activity of God in those whom society regards as mere mujercitas, foolish little women. The water of God that gushes up in the spiritual marriage works to sustain, heal, and transform not only the indi-vidual person, but her whole social and cultural world as well. For a perspective on this that is from a completely different tradition, yet is remarkably consonant with Teresa's spiritual insight, listen to this poetic text fromthe Chinese Tao-te- Ching:ts The highest motive is to be like water. Water is essential to all living things, yet it demands no pay or recognition. Rather it flows humbly to the lowest level. Nothing is weaker than water, yet, for overcoming what is hard and strong, nothing surpasses it. It seems that in The Book of Her Foundations Teresa teaches, through her consummate "stoW theology," that the gift of union with God in the ~piritual marriage indeed makes a person like water. Such a person flows humbly to the lowest level and is rad-ically obedient to the direction of her own and others' thirst for God. In this way she unites herself intimately with the heart of her culture and can ov4rcome that in it which is hard and strong. Notes Terrence W. Tilley, StoO, Tbeolog~ (V~lmington: Michael Glazier, 1985), pp. 11-16. All quotations from the Foundations are from The Collected Works Review for Religious of St. Teresa ofAvila, Vol. 3, trans. Kieran Kavanaugh and Otilio Rodriguez (Washington, D.C.: Institute of Carmelite Studies, 1985). 3 Alex Garcfa-Rivera, St. Ma~-tin de Porres: The "Little Stories" and the Semiotics of Culture (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1995). 4 As several commentators have noted, Teresa's style of rhetoric is "women's language"; that is, not only is it the vernacular instead of Latin, but it is conversational, imagistic, elliptical, and aimed at the general populace rather than an elite. See, for example, Elias R. Rivers, "The Vernacular Mind of St. Teresa," Carmelite Studies 3 (1984). In recent years feminist analyses have revealed how this "women's lan-guage" is far more sophisticated than it first appears; it often functions as a sort of "Trojan horse" strategy that lets Teresa speak in places and ways that would otherwise be closed to her. See especially Alison Weber, Teresa of Avila and the Rhetoric of Femininity (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1990), and Carole Slade, St. Teresa of Avila: Author of a Heroic Life (Berkel.ey: University of California Press, 1995). s See Antonio P~rez-Romero, Subversion and Liberation in the Writings of St. Teresa of Avila (Atlanta: Rodopi, 1996). 6 For an overview of these trends, see Te6fanes Egido, "The HistoriCal Setting of St. Teresa's Life," trans. S. Payne and M. Dodd, Carmelite Studies 1 (1980); also Gillian Ahlgren, Teresa of Avila and the Politics of Sanctity (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1996), especially chap. 1. 7 Elaine Scarry, The Body in Pain: The Maki~zg and Unmaking of the World (New York: Oxford University Press, 1985). 8 See Weber, Slade, Ahlgren, and P~rez-Romero. 9 Among the above commentators, Ahlgren and P~rez-Romero offer an interpretation of Teresa's motives that is similar to my own. 10 Ahlgren, chap. 7. On the tradition of women visionaries, see Elizabeth Alvilda Petroff, Medieval Women's Visionary Literature (New York: Oxford University Press, 1986). 1, See Ahlgren, especially p. 10 I, for discussion of Teresa's devel-oping theology in relation to visions. ,2 Garcfa-Rivera, p. 36. ,3 In the Life, chaps. 11-22, she wrote of the "Four Waters," and in the Way, chaps. 19-21, of the "fount of living water." In the Interior Castle the same imagery appears, most prominently in the First, Fourth and Seventh Dwelling Places. 14 The Collected Works of St. Teresa of Avila, Vol. 2 (Washington, D.C.: Institute of Carmelite Studies, 1980). ,s Having been given this quotation on a prayer card, I consulted several English versions of the Tao-te-Ching without being able to locate this specific translation. I was able to determine, however, that .~anuary-February 2002 Frohlich ¯ Teresa: Story Theologian the first half of the quotation comes from poem 8 and the second half from poem 78. The Beast of Contemplation I walked past someflattened grass behind the house this morning, where an animal had lain in the night, touching a mystery by touching the fringe of the turf where something wild had passed and paused and passed again. What did the animal lying in that place think (or not think) in the otherness of its sojourn there? I ask this, even as I know the wild creature lying behind the house to be none other than myself. This, after all, is the patch of grass where I sprawl under the stars each night, sometimes lost in contemplation, other times in sleep. Them is an animal of God that makes its lair in me, some distance, often,from my mind. It comes as stranger, glimpsed in a vestige of presence, a pressed-smooth swath ofunmowed lawn. I marvel at the wildness of this elusive beast, leaving only the bay of its body at the place where God has passed and paused and passed again. Belden C. Lane Review for Religious NIHAL ABEYASINGHA Instilling Christian/ Religious Culture: Instinct and Connaturality At on the Internet, there is a link to Chimpanzee Cultures Website. Accustomed to speaking of culture as a human creation, one wonders how it might apply to the animal world. In fact, given that there are certain characteristics common to an entire species in the ani-mal world and that there are variants identifiable within the species, there is some evidence that one animal's "discovery" can gradually spread to other animals of the same species) The key words here--common, variants, spread--contain concepts to consider in discussing culture in human societies. The pre-sent article will use those concepts in looking at the culture of religious life. Religious or consecrated life has not been of a single mold through history. Common to it always and everywhere is the following of Christ in accord with one's baptismal commitment. Variants include hermit life and common life, enclosed monas-tic life and mendicant life, institutes of apostolic life and secu-lar institutes. Religious life that sprang up in one set of circumstances has often spread to other circumstances, and today religious life cannot hold itself entirely aloof from the many rapid changes occurring differently all over the world. Nihal Abeyasingha CSSR wrote for us twice in 1999. His address is 454/9 Piachaud Gardens; Peradeniya Road; 20000 Kandy; Sri Lanka. ~-2~ --- 2- January-February 2002 Abeyasingba ¯ Instilling Christian/Religious Culture The present article makes two proposals. First, if there is transmission of a common way of life all through a group and if innovations can be spread within a given species in the animal world, one can envisage a rationally planned and directed pro-gram for transmitting to new entrants the culture of the Christian life and the subculture of religious life. Second, I pro-pose certain "settings" where new entrants might be placed, where their religious instinct and sense of connaturality could be fostered. How Transmit Culture? Culture can be considered as the behaviors, skills, and knowl-edge that you acquire from and share with others of your species, but that differ from the way of life lived by members of your species elsewhere. This culture is neither acquired genetically nor compelled by the environment, but neither can it be taught-- it has to be caught. In odaer words, there is a memory (one could call it "institutional memory") that the older generation of a species embodies and carries. In associating with that genera-tion and experiencing various of its devices, the younger gener-ation comes to share in the culture. These younger members do so not by compulsion, but because that way of doing things is "connatural" to them. They do it because they want to do it. John Henry Newman (1801-1890) suggested "that our most natural mode of reasoning is, not from propositions to propo-sitions, but from things to things, from concrete to concrete, from wholes to wholes.''2 He says that, as regards "the great fun-damental truths of religion, natural and revealed, and as regards the mass of religious men, these truths, doubdess, may be proved and defended by an array of invincible natural arguments, but such is not commonly the method in which those same logical arguments make their way into our minds. The grounds on which we hold the divine origin of the church and the previous truths which are taught us by nature--the being of a God and the immortality of the soul--are felt by most men to be recondite and impalpable, in proportion to their depth and reality.''3 Animals seem to have this concrete kind of "reasoning." Endowed with a natural sense, they learn their "culture" by liv-ing it and doing the things that accord with it. People are born Review for Religious with natural instincts and reason; they learn to be human beings within a culture somewhat as animals do. But, because of their reason and free will, they are not determined by their instincts. Yet--and here we enter the sphere of religion--the human being cannot be satisfied with the material. "Our hearts are made for you, O Lord, and they are restless until they rest in you" are the famous words of Augustine of Hippo (354-430). Religion provides for the restlessness of the heart. Some indi-viduals experience that restlessness more intensely, and often with particular nuances. This leads them to seek rest for their restlessness not only in Christian living within the broad framework of the church, but along a specific way of following Christ closely. This they find instinctively in a par-ticular religious congrega-tion. When asked why they entered this one and not that, they have their own idiosyncratic modes of saying so. But most impor-tant is that they feel at home in the institute and are happy in its life and apostolate. Today's religious come from a different social background from the religious of the first half of the 20th century. Ministering to Today's World Feeling at home and happy does not mean that they have reached the end of their journey. In fact, they have only begun. And that is why I suggest that there must be some way in which they can be helped to grow. Instinctively and by way of con-naturality, they should be assisted to grow, incorporating what is in accord with their quest and rejecting what is contrary to it. Today's religious come from a different social background from the religious of the first half of the 20th century.4 They bring with them a certain culture and the popular piety with which they have grown up in their homes. During the training period they are filled with a whole range of knowledge. But, once the period of training is over, they try to use as the basis of their ministry the popular piety they carried with them at their entrance.~ This does not work. ~tanuary-February 2002 Abeyasingba ¯ Instilling Christian/Religious Culture Change (rapid, radical, in almost every sphere) and diversity (abundant and bewildering) are unavoidable present-day reali-ties, but Christians have no cause to fear them. By baptism (see Rm 6:3-11) we are participants in the most radical of changes, the death and resurrection of Christ, phenomena that express themselves in a never-ending variety of ways. This reality, how-ever, needs to be instilled more and more into the life and min-istry of religious. In other words, in their response to problems related to all the change and diversity in the world, Christians and especially religious are continually called to return to the Christian mystery of Christ's death and resurrection. Popular piety is inadequate to face the modern world. Popular piety can be seen as "contractual": if one fulfills certain set obligations, then one will grow as a Christian and attain sal-vation. Sometimes this piety may border on the magical: if one does certain things in a certain way, then various desirable results will follow. This approach, still present in the life of many peo-ple, has helped many on the path of holiness. But is it the answer to today's problematic of change and diversity? Is going with the practices of many a help or a hindrance for religious in their life and work with and for others? Today's change and diversity have far-reaching effects. The Christian perspective on this situation might be stated briefly as follows: Human freedom is used and abused, but, no matter what, God remains faithful. The death and resurrection of Christ shows this, and Christians share in it. Their share is in what they do, not merely what they talk about. Jesus, knowing who would betray or deny him, shared a special meal with them. The church continues to remember that, on the night he was betrayed (by his disciples and by us), he took bread and said "Take and eat . " This meal shared with his betrayers--and continued by the community of believers--is the place where we learn how to handle the world in which we live. We learn, not by study, but by doing.We learn, not bj~ logical reasoning so much as by a kind of instinct and connaturality. This doing (in memory of him) is the source of knowledge, knowledge of a unique opportunity for us to turn to the pure victim of our betrayal and find both salvation for ourselves and cordial reciprocity with one another. If we learn by what we do, it follows that there can be no Review for Religious predetermined curriculum. We can only seek or provide set-tings where connaturality and the religious instinct can be evoked and then try to adopt or inculcate a "rationalized asceti-cism," that is, a commitment to continual self-control and dis-cipline over what does not serve our vocation as religious--in other words, engagement in ongoing discernment. The religious instinct and discernment need to work in har-ness. In a variety of settings, rationalized asceticism is only a means. What is primary is the goal, namely, following Christ according to the particular focus of one's institute. A kind of rationalized asceticism, however, could function, not so much by logical reasoning as by instinct and connaturality. The one who joins an institute feels "at home." In that situation, one is helped to rationally understand and discern one's way in the actual world where one lives. Gradually, feeling at home takes on a focus and content. Settings Where Connaturality Can Function By a setting I mean something on the lines of the Santiniketan, the school established in 1901 by Rabindranath Tagore (1861-1941). That school was meant to be a place where students could absorb the Indian spirit. It was out of the ordi-nary; it had eminent teachers, but few pupils. Yet those few learned something which others did not and made a contribu-tion to India as a whole. Times have changed, but the need remains for us to experience the world existentially and to work out our response in accord with the gospel and the charism of our institute. The extraordinary, if it happens, is something to be thank-ful for. Normal growth takes place in the ordinary situations of life. Growth in religious life occurs best, I think, when religious envision their own life stories (with their own memories, behav-iors, skills, and knowledge) against their faith-vision of their baptism--which made them sharers in the mystery of Jesus Christ dying and rising again. A certain interpretation and synthesis of his own life can perhaps be detected in Pope John Paul's first encyclical, Redemptor hominis (§ 14): Man in the full truth of his existence . . . --in the January-February 2002 Abeyasingba ¯ Instilling Christian/Religious Culture sphere of his own family, in the sphere of society and very diverse contexts, in the sphere of his own nation or people, and in the sphere of the whole of mankind--this man is the primary route that the church must travel in fulfilling her mission: he is the primary and j~tndamental way for the church, the way traced out by Christ himself, the way that leads invariably through the mystery of the incarnation and the redemption. In 1979 (within the first year of his pontificate), during the Mass celebrated in the Oswiecim-Brzezinka (Auschwitz- Birkenau) concentration camp, he said: Can it still be a surprise to anyone that the pope born and brought up in this land,, the pope who came to the See of St. Peter from the diocese in whose territory is situated the camp of Oswiecim, should have begun his first encyclical with the words Redemptor hominis and should have dedicated it as a whole to the cause of man, to the dignity of man, to the threats to him, and finally to his inalienable rights that can so easily be trampled on and annihi-lated by his fellow men?6 John Paul II lived and was educated in the West. Naturally his categories of thought are derived from the Western tradition. Is it not possible, though, for people of the East as well as the West, to see beneath these thoughts of his the process by which he worked through various situations and reached a synthesis that was connatural to him? That is, to see his experience of life in Poland (as worker, stage actor, writer, and so forth), the experience of the concentration camps, the search for the "causes" of the concentration camps, the articulation of the principles of his life, and finally, the synthesis of Christ, the church, and man as all interrelated.7 And this in the first year of his papacy! And now the evening of his life is filled with sym-bolic gestures flowing from that same synthesis--attempts to bring about reciprocal relations among human beings, Christ, and the church--a visit to a synagogue in Rome and to a mosque in Syria, asking pardon of God and of fellow human beings for the sins committed by the church and tendering apologies to the Greek and Ukrainian churches. Review for Religious Experience and Exemplary Religious Behavior Popular piety, as I have said, cannot respond to the present world with its change and diversity. No matter how much one repeats this to new entrants, the response is to point to how well popular piety is doing in pilgrimage centers, among a high percentage of regular churchgoers, among the Christian right, and in various emerging movements. Perhaps they are correct. The majority of Christians are rooted in popular or traditional piety. But is that the climax and high point of the following of Christ? Hardly. Without the interaction of popular piety with its roots in the Christian tradition in a context of continual conversion, does popular piety not dete-riorate into the justification and ratio-nalization of the baser instincts? Well-known preachers advocating a pop-ular and populist piety have been dis-covered to have been leading double lives. Corruption and violence are known as much among "practicing" Christians as among the general population. Religious, too, may experience a dichotomy between their piety and their work, between what they do in church and what they do outside. It can be valu-able to experience it, to have an ordinary job while at the same time trying to fulfill the obligations of a religious.8 This is a common situation for ordinary Christians-- the need to combine work with family life. In ordinary work-places, individuals claim no privileges, but simply share the lot of the others. In such circumstances, people discover the pres-sures that flow from the pace of change and the range of diver-sity that has to be confronted. Confronting the real world of jealousy, fraud, cutthroat com-petition, and intrigue provides an opportunity to reflect care-fully on one's behavioral response in the light of one's Christian commitment. In a study of the attitudes of people working in several private-sector companies in Sri Lanka, the following atti-tudes were measured (on a scale of ten): Among superiors: authoritarian 8, egalitarian 2, and permissive 5; among subor-dinates: rebel i0, cooperation 1, ingratiator 5.9 It is highly likely Popular piety, as I have said, cannot respond to the present world with its change and diversity. January-February 2002 Abeyasingba ¯ Instilling Cbristian/Religious Culture that Christians and religious in similar work situations have adopted similar behavioral patterns. How does such behavior fit in with gospel norms? Is equality not implied in baptism, the root of the religious vocation and of cooperation in the mission of a religious institute? Does the high score for authoritarian attitudes not imply that Jesus' exhortation about the greatest and the least, about the master washing the feet of his disciples, has been forgotten? The question arises: Can a process of"con-scious reflection" for religious be initiated on these lines? Conscious Reflection When young people tell Archbishop Rembert Weakland of Milwaukee that they are having a difficult time understanding what it means to be a Catholic,-he tells them to participate in the Eucharistic celebration with the same parish community every Sunday for six months and, during the same six-month period, to work in a soup kitchen. If they follow these two prac-tices, they will see for themselves what it means to be a Catholic.1° The question posed is conceptual ("understanding"); the remedy suggested is an existential commitment (the Eucharist in the same community, the same soup kitchen, for six months). It leads to a realization that Christian life is about worship and service. Commitment to the same group--but why? Because then one works one's way beyond immediate emotions (sense plea-sure), beyond the true-false dichotomy (intellectual pleasure), and beyond control-or-be-controlled situations (the pleasure of power), towards accepting realities for which no words can be found and tasks which are not directly pleasurable--but all of which, at a deep level, give satisfaction and joy. Following that advice, one avoids a "shopping" mentality; one learns through the drudgery and happiness of one's commitment. Oliver Goldsmith implies this about the parson in his "Deserted Village": "All his serious thoughts had rest in heaven. / As some tall cliff, that lifts its awful form, / Swells from the vale, and mid-way leaves the storm, / Though round its breast the rolling clouds are spread,/Eternal sunshine settles in its head" (lines 188-192). The "eternal sunshine" 6f a holiness that brings joy and fulfillment is for all. Religious are meant to pursue holiness Review for Religious with great intensity in the service of all Christians. In the Middle Ages, religious were more prominent in the guidance and accompaniment of the faithful in holiness than priests were.~L "All the faithful of Christ of whatever rank or status are called to the holiness of the Christian life and to the perfection of charity" (LG §40). "Mother Church rejoices at finding within her bosom men and women who more closely follow and more clearly demonstrate the Savior's self-giving by embracing poverty with the free choice of God's sons, and by renouncing their 6wn wills . . ." (LG §42). The point of the "specialized" pursuit of holiness is to bear witness among the followers of Christ that everything should not be cut down to the size of the self, but rather that the self needs to be expanded to recognize and embrace the glory of God man-ifested in the world, in one's fellow humans, and in Christ. Religious Cultural Literacy In the Catholic tradition, faith is a personal adherence to God that involves, inseparably, "free assent to the whole truth that God has revealed" (tides quae). It differs from faith in the Reform tradition, which emphasizes trust and commitment (tides fiducialis). Sometimes the distinction is forgotten. It is important to maintain the difference if one wants to remain rooted in the Catholic tradition. Thus a first requirement would be cultural literacy~2 within the Catholic tradition--in church doctrine, in religious life in general, and in one's own institute in particular. What is needed is a clear and accurate understanding of the truths that one's community shares and the standard of behavior that community members together endorse, as approved by the church. This is not expert knowledge, but simply accurate knowledge. Accuracy is, I think, not too much to ask in an age of computers, where email addresses and Web sit~s have to be keyed in without an error of even a single letter. Beyond an accurate minimum, one can and should, of course, increase one's knowledge, while not necessarily claiming that one always practices the behavior that one endorses. This knowledge and these standards of behavior must, however, be understood as constituting the bottom line without which the present collectivity will not survive as a group. January-February 2002 Abeyasingha ¯ Instilling Christian/Religious Culture This minimum has to be learned by rote. "Learning by heart" is one of the most popular techniques of education in Asia. It has to be tested not just once but periodically. This knowledge and these behavioral standards should be the content of discussions, decisions, and vision statements. Otherwise, indi-viduals might interpret the words to mean exactly what serves their own personal interest within the existing network of roles and relationships. Before entering the novitiate, candidates should be able to move easily and accurately within the idiom and grammar specific to the Catholic tradition. Afterwards, in the novitiate, they can learn the idiom, grammar, and standard of behavior specific to the institute. The Eucharist as Cultural Activity The great formative influence in Christian living and a for-tiori in religious life is the Eucharist and the other sacraments. There is a constant danger in Asia that these sacramental rites may be reduced to the level of popular religion and sometimes even of magic. Two aspects of the Eucharistic celebration are relevant here. First, people should have a basic knowledge of the elements that come together in the liturgy.~3 Second, but far more important, is the actual celebration of the Eucharist. Every Eucharistic celebration includes the great metaphors and images of Christianity. Every celebration has at least seven points of reference--assembly and gathering, table of the word, memo-rial, sacrifice, food for the journey, eschatological reality, and cosmic transformation.~4 Every celebration cannot highlight all these, but the meaning of the celebration is in the reality that is done by the group of believers. The liturgy is not an act of per-sonal piety or a situation for personal devotion. It is of its very nature community building. Even these ordinary actions and realities are sacred, binding the group together in Christ as they do. In Christ, the Eucharist makes the church and the church makes the Eucharist. This imposes a certain style and spirit on the participants.~5 Linked to this style and spirit is a rationalized asceticism, a renunciation of self in order to share the celebration with others. This elementary structure, idiom, and grammar of the liturgy needs, then, to be understood and the liturgy's forma- Review for Religious tive process realized. This formation is also a journey. Its out-line is the Rite of Initiation of Adults,16 which consists of our personal pilgrimage to know ourselves, reflection on the story of other Christians, purification and enlightenment, accepting the mystery, reflecting on the mystery and renewing our lives. Here, in the context of the metaphors and images of the Christian faith remembered and celebrated in the liturgy, can-didates move to total conversion: intellectual (without which there is no growth in under-standing the Christian mystery), moral (with-out which one does not seek to improve one's life), and religious (without which one makes no judgment about the condition of one's own faith). One learns from what one does (the way of action). This has a knowledge dimension in which the memory is recalled and cel-ebrated, a pledge of future glory is given, and devotion is nour-ished for continued Christian living. Christian cultural literacy provides one with the language and communication needed to be part of the Christian tradition as it is at this time in history. Lamentation about what might have been serves little purpose. What possibilities exist within the Asian tradition for carrying the Christian tradition further? While the idiom and grammar of the Christian tradition can be stated and understood briefly, there is a richness of imagery that aims at evoking faith beyond some brief concepts. Take the language of the creed: "I believe in Jesus Christ, [the Father's] only Son, our Lord. He was conceived by the power of the Holy Spirit and born of the Virgin Mary. He suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died, and was buried. He descended into hell. On the third day he rose again. He ascended into heaven and is seated at the right hand of the Father. He will come again to judge the living and the dead." Clearly, this profession of faith includes more concrete images than abstract Before entering the novitiate, candidates should be able to move easily and accurately within the idiom and grammar specific to the Catholic tradition. January-February 2002 Abeyasingba ¯ Instilling Christian/Religious Culture concepts. It is perhaps, in this area that Asia would be most com-petent to make a contribution. Possible Asian Enrichments The "text"--the idiom and grammar--remains untouched. Without denying the text, Asia is supremely gifted to enrich the imagery. Jacome Gonsalvez (1676-1742), who is considered an important writer in Sinhala (the local language of Sri Lanka), did not try to reexpress theology in the Sinhala idiom: his the-ology repeats the Scholastics. But, relying on the apocryphal tradition (as regards details of Mary's early years) and on an abundance of imagery drawn from local sources, his work evokes an attitude of respect for the Christian faith even among read-ers of other religious persuasionsY Given the technique of learning the idiom and grammar by heart, the specific Asian contribution would be faith reflection in love--not by negating that idiom and grammar, not by lamenting the shortcomings of history, not by challenging or seeming to defy authority, but by being rooted in our tradition and proposing to our countrymen, especially fellow believers, images and perspectives that serve to enrich their faith. Another element of enrichment is the liturgy. Here we are to find meaning in what we do within our community of believ-ers. But there is the danger of making the liturgical action (com-munitarian of its very nature) an act of private and personal devotion. This is a real danger, and not only in the Christian religion. In Sri Lankan Buddhism, certain innovations, espe-cially the inclusion of the vernacular in a form of devotion (Bodhi Piija), have become popular in a short time. But other (quasi-magical) rites and patterns of popular thinking that were in no way in the mind of the innovator have found their way into the rite.L8 This development has taken place within some twenty-five years. Similarly, Christian Asian religious can offer new perspectives. Most p~:obably, in the Eucharistic prayer of Addai and Mari, there was no narrative of the institution. Would evi-dence of such a liturgical tradition give indication (for the uni-versal church) that the meaning of the liturgical action is in what is done? Asian celebration could give the liturgy an enrich-ment (and sometimes, unfortunately, a deformation). Review for Religious If cultural literacy is an "understanding that follows love and commitment," the liturgy is the celebration that "faith and promise are correlative." The word of God proclaimed to the liturgical assembly is received in faith; its promise is fulfilled today in the midst of the assembly. It is not a question of con-cepts so much as the reality of the commitment. Ever Searching for God The present article considers religious life as a search for God. That search is intense--as intense as the desire of a drown-ing person for air. Growth in the religious life is giving focus and content to that desire in accordance with the Christian tradi-tion (particularly the idiom and grammar of doctrine and litur-gical celebration) and th~ specific charism of the religious institute. The process is within the realm of the ordinary, and the manner is by way of instinct and connaturality. The search occurs in a world permeated by both sin and grace. The vision always involves the death and resurrection of Jesus. In this search, reli-gious in Asia, after identifying the specific contribution they can make, need to make it with courage without jeopardizing com-munion with the universal church. As St. Irenaeus (c. 130-c. 200) wrote, "though languages differ throughout the world, the content of the tradition is one and the same. The churches estab-lished in Germany have no other faith or tradition, nor do those of the Iberians, nor those of the Celts, nor those of the East, of Egypt, of Libya.''19 Yet there has to be a distinct element in the manner in which the faith is lived, celebrated, and expressed as spirituality. As Francig de Sales (1567-1622) has said, "the prac-tice of devotion must differ for the gentleman and the artisan, the servant and the prince, for the widow, young girl, or wife. Further, it must be adapted to their particular strength, cir-cumstances, and duties: . True devotion never causes harm, but rather perfects everything we do."2° Notes ~ It was reported in Newsweek (21 May 2001) that scientists dis-covered in 1981 a humpback whale creating waves with its tail to trap fish. That innovation of a single reported case is now said to have spread to half the humpback whale population. January-February 2002 Abeyasingba ¯ Instilling Christian/Religious Culture 2 John Henry Newman, An Essay in Aid of a Grammar of Assent (Garden City: Image Books, 1955), p. 260. Some examples provided by Newman of how this sense of natural inference works are worth recording: "A peasant who is weather wise may yet be simply unable to assign intelligible reasons why he thinks it will be fine tomorrow; and, if he attempts to do so, he may give reasons wide of the mark, but that will not weaken his own confidence in his prediction. His mind does not proceed step-by-step, but he feels all at once and together the force of various combined phenomena though he is not conscious of them. Again, there are physicians who excel in the diagnosis of com-plaints, though it does not follow from this that they could defend their decision in a particular case against a brother physician who dis-puted it. They are guided by natural acuteness and varied experience; they have their own idiosyncratic modes of observing, generalizing, and concluding; when questioned, they can but rest on their own authority, or appeal to the future event" (pp. 261-262). 3 Newman, Grammar, p. 264. Thi~ "feeling" of which Newman speaks is "a feeling in the human mind., allied perhaps to that sense of danger which animals exhibit when placed in the vicinity of natu-ral enemies of their race, and which makes birds cower when the hawk is in the air, and beasts tremble when the tiger is abroad in the desert" (p. 264; read pp. 260-299 for a better understanding of this natural inference and illative sense, as propounded by Newman). 4 See N. Abeyasingha, "The Next Generation of Religious in Asia" in Review for Religious 58, no. 6 (November-December 1999): 621-629. 5 Some years ago I was asked by a boy whom a religious in a lead-ing Catholic school was preparing for First Holy Communion whether it was true that, if he were to bite the host, it would bleed. In fact, he asked me this after he had observed me biting the host at a Mass I cel-ebrated. 6 L'Osservatore Romano (English edition, 16 July 1979), p. 6. 7 "In recent times--particularly during the Second Vatican Council--there have been long discussions whether this relationship is theocentric or anthropocentric. There will never be a satisfactory answer to this question if we continue to consider the two terms sep-arately. In fact, Christianity is anthropocentric precisely because it is theocentric, and simultaneously it is theocentric, thanks to its extraor-dinary anthropocentrism. But it is just the mystery of the incarna-tion which, in itself, explains this relationship" (John Paul II, L'Osservatore Romano, English edition, 7 December 1978, p. 1). 8 I am the only Catholic priest working in a state university that has a large majority of Buddhists among staff and students. Over the years I have had to make certain decisions and adopt certain behav-ior patterns in order to practice a minimum degree of Christian wit-ness. Review for Religious 9 See Gunapala Nanayakkara, Public Administration: The Socio- Cultural Milieu (Study Series: Public Administration 88-2, Jayawardenepura: Postgraduate Institute of Management, 1988), p. 10. 10 Cited in William C. Spohn, "The Need for Roots and Wings: Spirituality and Christian Ethics," Theology Digest 47, no. 4 (Winter 2000): 329. 11 See the Catechism of the Catholic Church, §927. See also Sacramentum Mundi, Vol. 4, p. 394: "In Palestine, for example, in the 6th century, the abbot of a monastery exercised penitential discipline even in regard to capital sins. Sometimes little attention was paid to whether the monk-confessor was a priest or layman (as early as the 5th and 6th centuries), but this drew protest from Pseudo-Dionysius. After the Iconoclast controversy (8th century) only the priest-monks had in practice the right to hear confessions." ,2 See E.D. Hirsch Jr., Cultural Literacy (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1987) and The Dictionary of Cultural Literacy (1988). 13 See Dennis C. Smolarski, Liturgical Literacy from Anamnesis to Worship (New York: Paulist Press, 1990). ~4 See Kevin Irwin, "Models of the Eucharist," Origins 31, no. 3 (31 May 2001): 33-44. ~s See Aidan Kavanagh, Elements of Rite: A Handbook of Liturgical Style (Bangalore: NBCLC, 1996); Dennis C. Smolarski, How Not to Say Mass: A Guidebook for All Concerned about Authentic Worship (New York: Paulist Press, 1986). 16 See J.D. Dunning, "The Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults: Model of Adult Growth," Worship 53 (March 1979): 142-156. See N. Abeyasingha, Towards Contextualizing Theology with a CSsR Bias (Bangalore: Joint Secretariats, 1990), pp. 80-95. ~7 There is a precedent for this kind of reading, reflection, and interpretation of the Christian tradition. Very early in the New Testament, there was a Christological interpretation of the Exodus (1 Co 10:1-4). Aphraates (260/275-345), the oldest Syrian father, wrote: "Jesus the son of Nun led the people over to the promised land. Jesus our Savior promised the land of life to all who, passing over the true river Jordan, have believed and are circumcised in their hearts" (Dem 11, 12). The title "physician" is applied to Jesus by Ignatius of Antioch (+ c. 110): "There is one Physician, who is both flesh and spirit, born and not born, who is God in man, true life in death, both from Mary and from God, first able to suffer and then unable to suffer, Jesus Christ our Lord" (Letter to Ephesians 7.2). The early fathers were so rooted in their faith and commitment that their understanding and interpretation of Scripture and doctrine fol-lowed that faith and commitment. Perhaps their interpretation of the January-February 2002 Abeyasingba ¯ Instilling Christian/Religious Culture Scriptures and the tradition may not be endorsed by modern exege-sis, but they still remain a "faith reading in love" of the Scriptures and the Christian tradition. Through narrative, drama, allegory, allit-eration, and other literary devices, they contributed to the faith by evoking it in their fellow believers. It was in this particular and lim-ited way that they contributed to the enrichment of the tradition of other churches. It was a "pedagogy" in the sense that "nothing exists except what God causes to be. "There is nothing, therefore, that is hated by God, nor is there anything hated by the Word. Both are one, both are God" (Instructor of Children 1.8.62.3-4). 18 See Richard Gombrich and Gananath Obeyesekere, Buddhism Transformed: Religious Change in Sri Lanka (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1988), pp. 348-410. 19 Adversus Haereses 5.20.1. 2o Introduction to the Devout Life, Part 1, chap. 3. "Attentiveness is the natural prayer of the soul" Nicolas de Malebranche A new resident in the yard: pink stars, in clusters, growing in the hollows of the lawn where the old copper beech roots sank. Four-petaled blossoms, a tube, perhaps, slit four ways and splayed to points, each crayoned pale magenta on the vein, centers barely green, white stamens half an eyelash thick, white pollen feet in the air, visible only an inch from the eye. The buds are tight pink dots, slightly gray, sand-grain small. Alone they'd be invisible. They grow in clusters, three or four rising frrom a claw of six petals, green and spiked as cosmos seeds, opening like orange slices around the straight, slightly furred stem. Doretta Cornell RDC Review for Religious KATHLEEN MCALPIN Conversion: A Summons from the Word of God All conversion happens through a summons from the Word of God. There is an intensity about the word summons ("called with authority or urgency"l) that heightens it beyond a simple call. It poises us to respond. In this instance the summons calls us to a journey of conversion. God's Word comes to us in special moments and in ordinary and unlikely places. The word of God comes in Scripture. It summons us as a personal and communal call to encounter the Mystery of God. The gospel readings abound in calls to deeper faith and more confident hope and to ever effective love of God, neighbor, and all creation. The word of God is God's self-communication, God's love.2 The ultimate word of God's self-communication is the paschal mystery--the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ--a mystery that remains in God's ongoing self-communication. The Letter to the Romans assures us that God's love is poured forth in our hearts (Rm 5:5). We know this mystery as grace, a pers6nal encounter with God. Grace is the word of God, the self-gift of God, telling us of a God with us and3'br us.3 Kathleen McAlpin RSlVl works with theological students at Regis College in its integration-for-ministry and spiritual-direction programs: Regis College; 15 St. Mary Street; Toronto, Ontario; M4Y 2R5 Canada. January-February 2002 conversion process . 40 McAlpin ¯ Conversion The Word of God in Ordinary Places How does the word of God have its origin in natural events and forces? The movie Chocolat offers a good example of how conversion comes in ordinary and unlikely places. For the inhabitants of a storybook town in France, conversion comes in the form of the stranger who opens a chocolate shop. This myth is set in a sleepy but rigidly conservative village in southern France in 1959. Vianne, a young woman of multiethnic background (Latin American and French) arrives in town, her young daughter in tow, hoping to establish a chocolate shop using some secret Mayan chocolate recipes with strange mystical properties, recipes handed down to her by her mother. Vianne has a great compassion for people and a capacity to listen to them. She becomes a catalyst for change. For some in the village, she becomes a healing presence. In others' eyes, however, because she does not share in the Jansenistic spirituality of the Catholic community, she appears scandalous and represents temptation. The word of God has summoned Vi~nne to conversion--in her relationships with the townspeople, through her involvement in the joys and sorrows of the lives about her, and through love. For Vianne also finds love and support in Roux, yet another stranger, whose arrival in town is a further catalyst for conversion not only for Vianne but also for the townspeople. The word of God comes from love. It calls people to love. The word of God came to me in a similar way. At a liturgy at Romero House, a center for refugees in Toronto, I met a refugee couple from Uzbekistan, a country of the former Soviet Union, near Afghanistan. They left because of the extreme religious and political persecution they suffered. Circumstances forced them to leave their two teenage daughters behind. They hoped to bring them to North America soon after their own arrival, but were unaware of all the protocols involved. They now realize they may have to wait for more than a year--if the plan works at all. The deep empathy I felt was a call to be in prayerful solidarity and close community with this couple as they wait in their political dark night. As we prayed at Mass, their presence, their story, haunted me. I united with them as whispers of translation occurred between them during the liturgy. The word of God comes to us in the everyday world of our relationships, in society, and in the mystery called church. The Review for Religious summons to conversion comes in the word of God: from a friend asking for prayers during struggles, in the news of family grief, in the snow falling on cedars, in the call to be patient with an irritating person, in delight at the sun breaking through darkness, in the efforts of racial reconciliation, in the call to reuse and recycle, inthe faith exerted in a trial of doubt, in the hopeful efforts of a community trying to respond to the reign of God. The summons is God's self-communication that reveals what we love. The summons to conversion is a call to find God in all things, and to fall forever in love. "Nothing is more practical than finding God, that is, than falling in love in a quite absolute, final way.''4 In finding God, in falling in love, our lives hope to be changed in a permanent way. In times of doubt and anxiety, we may have many questions about the darkness or seeming nothingness of the world, and the powerlessness of our lives. In times of hope and joy, we often find it simple to seek and to know the living God and discern our response to God with full hearts. In other words, "what you are in love with, what seizes your imagination will affect everything. It will decide what will get you out of bed in the morning, what you will do with your evening, how you will spend your weekends, what you read, who you know, what breaks your heart, and what amazes you with joy and gratitude. Fall in love, stay in love, and it will decide everything." s What or whom do we love? What seizes our imagination as women and men, as religious, in the church, in the world? What gives us hope in our relationships and in our decisions? Falling in love is more about relationships than it is about issues or agendas. We are seekers of God on a mission. Our God is a living, loving God. Our mission is the dream of God, the reign of God. Our very lives reveal what we have found and with whom we have fallen in love. In grace, a living and loving God is present with us when our hearts are encouraged to respond in trusting relationships. God is with us when our hearts are broken over the unending wars and disasters that envelop our world, the universal suffering of women and children, the oppression of the Our mission is the dream of God, the reign of God. January-February 2002 McAlpin ¯ Conversion earth, and the prejudice regarding those who are "other" by race or culture, poverty or status. God is with us and for us as we endure personal grief with our families and friends. Grace abounds in sorrow and in the amazement of love. God embraces us as we embrace others and our own conversion in the unfolding events of our daily life. Conversion in the Experience of Religious Life The history and the wisdom of our Christian tradition have led us to believe that the only reason for religious life is the experience of God. This experience can come through other forms of life, and ~o there is wisdom in being mutually supportive in our search for the living God. We search for this mystery explicitly in relationships with associates and partners in ministry. This can be done only with oil in our lamps. In her recent book Finding the Treasure, Sandra Schneiders reminds us that religious life is about our quest for God. Our life is about the "one thing necessary":6 being in a loving relationship with God, living our sorrows and joys in the embrace symbolized by the religious vows. As I understand it, the early vow formulas of religious were simpler. Women and men dedicated their lives to the love of God and neighbor and professed this love in one vow. For almost a thousand years, the vow for this self-donation-in- love was "ongoing conversion of life." This vow was a deepening of the first call to conversion, baptism. .Religious life has always been influenced by developments in the world community. By the high Middle Ages, the centuries-old practice of special dedication to God as hermits or cenobites was being carefully studied by Scholastic theologians. They focused especially on three principal practices that had long been identified with that special dedication: celibacy or chastity, poverty or unpossessiveness, and obedience or consciously seeking God's will in one's life. Some of this study went into much detail, sometimes enough to distract people from the original intent of their dedication, namely, seeking God exclusively or following Christ closely. Consecrated life itself came to be thought of and ceremonialized as the life of the (three) vows. For almost eight hundred years now, most orders and congregations have expressed their consecration in terms of those vows. In the early history of Review for Religious the Sisters of Mercy, a fourth vow, service, was included--a vow to care for the poor, the sick, and the uneducated. Similar modifications have occurred in other congregations. Over time the idea of the ongoing conversion of life was lost in some communities of religious life. Or was it? Ongoing Conversion Religious life is an ongoing drama of individual and communal experiences of conversion. Most religious have had numerous experiences summoning them to conversion. They have known the limitations and graces of ministry, personal prayer, friendships, deaths in families and communities, political struggles, retreat experiences, natural disasters, personal and community griefs and joys. In communal conversion they have known the power of the whole gracing them with more ene.rgy than any individual could have imagined. They have experienced a call to a deeper awareness of the connection between Christ and the cosmos. They have known chapters calling for renewed faith in the paschal mystery. They have experienced charisma and resistance in this continuing mystery. Each event summons a response to new life. The life, death, and resurrection moments of our lives continue to reveal the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus, the Christ. An early example of my particular experience of this mystery was the use of the word justice in our community. It was quite a political term in the 1960s and early 1970s; born of revolutionary stands, it was quite controversial. At a 1975 prechapter meeting, a vote was taken on the issue. By the grace of God, the acceptance of justice as a topic slipped through by a narrow margin. It was a resurrection moment: the chapter document was ritled "Mercy Looks at Justice." More than twenty-five years later, we gathered to reimagine a new justice structure. It is clear now that justice is not a peripheral issue, but rather the heart of the matter for us. Justice is the very term for the slow, developmental process of conversion in our life of faith. The paschal mystery is interwoven with the conversion of the community. Our current chapter is calling us, as women of the church, to ongoing conversion at the very roots of the spirituality of .~anuary-February 2002 McAlpin ¯ Conversion religious life. We are called to our own conversion as we face the concerns of the earth: multiculturalism, racism, solidarity with the poor. This call comes from no other source but the Source of life, of wisdom, of sophia. Our response connects us with all the religious figures who have gone before us; through them we seek courage and grace. The Spirit of God desires integrity of word and deed even more than we do. We are called and graced--and we are limited by our own weakness--to renew the very structures of our community with the wisdom of justice. Conversion is initiated by God and given as gift. A gift presumes a giver, and for persons of faith the giver is ultimately God. The initiative, the invitation, the summons to conversion is with God. Simply stated, conversion is the movement away from evil and toward good or from one good to a greater good. We trust that through discernment we will learn how to move away from such evils as racism and consumerism and grow in appreciation of all creation and of other cultures, grow in compassionate and just relationships in society and with creation. Three images found in theologies of conversion are helpful when reflecting on a desire for conversion: conversion as God's flooding of hearts through the Holy Spirit, conversion as the awakening of the gifts of the Spirit, and conversion as the loving, compassionate life of Jesus. All three images lead to radical religious conversion of Christian conscience, which ultimately leads us to the loving compassion of the life of Jesus. 44 God Flooding Our Hearts Bernard Lonergan uses the image of God's love flooding our hearts through the Holy Spirit given us in Christ (Rm 5:5).7 He considers conversion as the heart of the Christian life. Conversion, through the work of the Spirit, enables persons to make new judgments and decisions and to .move beyond established horizons into new horizons of knowing, valuing, and acting. Conversion transforms and affects all relationships. "It is not merely a change or even a development; rather, it is a radical transformation on which follows, on all levels of living,~ an interlocked series of changes and developments. What hitherto was unnoticed becomes vivid and present. What had been of no concern is a matter of high import. So great a change in one's Review for Religious apprehensions and one's values accompanies no less a change in oneself, in one's relations to other persons, and in one's relations to God." 8 These changes can be dramatic or slow, intimate but never solitary, concrete and communal, dynamic and ongoing.9 This is consistent with our experience as a community of faith and of the reflections of many of the people encountered in ministry. Conversion "can happen to many, and they can form a community to sustain one another in their self-transformation, [to] help one another in working out the implications and in fulfilling the promise of their new life. Finally, what can become communal can become historical. It can pass from gen-eration to generation. It can pass from one cultural milieu to another. It can adapt to changing new situations, survive into a different age, flourish in another period or epoch." 10 This conviction about conversion engenders hope in current experiences of communal conversion--as a community, among our associates, and with our collaborators. We trust that this grace influences all those in relationship with us from one generation to another. Conversion is initiated by God and given as gift. Awakening to God The second image of conversion is the awakening of gifts of the Spirit that challenge relationships to be mutual and courageous. Awakening is the empowerment of the Spirit of Wisdom. Sophia releases the capabilities of giftedness in the individual and in the communal experience of conversion. Elizabeth Johnson places empowerment and relationships central to her understanding of conversion: "A permanent process of both turning away and turning inward--turning away from all that intellectually, morally, and spiritually keeps one mired in abusive relationships characterized by domination, inti~nidation, fear, or dishonesty and turning toward the unlimited grace of God ever calling us to relationships characterized by mutuality, respect, courage, and truthfulness." ~ January-February 2002 McAlpin ¯ Conversion In this image, conversion is empowerment and affirmation of one's strength and responsibility. It is rooted in women's experience of an excess of self-denial in following the call to conversion. Conversion is the movement toward the discovery and appropriation of the potential gifts within an individual, group, or society. As women of the church, we are summoned to discover the gifts necessary to be converted in solidarity with the poor, to value multiculturalism, to eliminate racism, and to act in harmony with all of creation. Our summons is a word of God calling us to appropriate our gifts in the name of Christ for the sake of the reign of God. The Loving, Compassionate Life of Jesus From the conversion experience of Thomas Merton, it is clear that Christian conversion reorients a person's whole life to the truth, value, love, and experience of God as brought to us in Christ. The fruit of conversion in the life of Merton was a transformation of conscience to loving compassion. As Walter Conn says, "the personal measure of Christian living, therefore, is the conscience which has experienced a Christian conversion at once cognitive, affective, moral, and religious. Only a person thus converted is fully and concretely sensitive to the loving life of Jesus. In Merton's life we discovered again the fundamental gospel truth that lies at the heart of Christian tradition: The radical religious conversion of Christian conscience finds its fullest realization in loving compassion--the self-transcending perfection of human empathy and justice. In its total surrender such religious conversion radically relativizes the moral autonomy of Christian conscience." 12 As followers of the gospel, we are summoned to a life of self-transcendence lived in a life of empathy and justice. In the life of Merton, we see that contemplation liberates the conscience for conversibn. Self-transcending love is found to be at the heart of the holistic development of the converted Christian. The fruit of conversion is compassion born of reflection on the life of Jesus. In community we hear of many who are willing to surrender to the needs of the others and thus be a part of the struggle for world freedom. The mystery of Christ is seen through contemplation of suffering and through reflection on the cross Review for Religious and the resurrection of Christ. Though we retain the freedom to refuse God's summons, any movement toward conversion is already the movement of God's grace within us. As I listen to stories in ministry, I frequently hear of how people are changed through events not of their own making, through persons and situations that were beyond their control. Conversion is grace. Conversion as Grace In Sacred Scripture we see grace offered in the prophetic calls to repentance and intimate love. John the Baptist made such calls, and, of course, Jesus did too. In Mark the first words of Jesus are a proclamation of the good news and a call to conversion: "The time is fulfilled and the reign of God has come near. Be converted and believe in the good news" (Mk 1:15). Matthew speaks of "seeking" God, or the reign of God, as the beginning of conversion. Jesus may have sought this experience at his baptism: "Jesus was not renouncing his sinfulness, but was taking his place with all those in. Israel who were saying: 'We are ready, Lord; please make this the moment of your Messianic salvation.'" ,3 In this, Jesus may have been responding to a call to a kind of conversion: "Jesus' experience at his baptism, so far as it can be recovered from the gospel records, seems in many respects akin to the effects of a sudden conversion. There was a sudden and intense personal experience of God. There was a new awareness of personal status with God, a call to a new way of life and acceptance of that call. There was, in fact, a reorientation of his whole personality.''14 Such an experience of God can have a transforming effect on a person's life.'5 While contemplating his baptism, Jesus heard the Spirit of God assuring him, "You are my Son, the Beloved; with whom I am well pleased" (Lk 3:22). Through this prayer, Jesus experienced an unconditional acceptance of God. Grounded in this religious experience, Jesus reorganized his life for the sake of Matthew speaks of "seeking" God, or the reign of God, as the beginning of conversion. January-February 2002 McAlpin ¯ Conversion the .reign of God. He moved from one way of living to another: "He gave up an earlier aiad long-standing way of life as no longer satisfactory, in order to take~ up a new and perilous way of life that now seemed to him imperative.''16 Through the conversion at his baptismal experience, Jesus turned to his mission of public ministry by affirming the reign of God. Elaine Wainwright notes that the reign of God is "the just and righteous purpose of God for all humanity.''~7 She says that after his baptism Jesus continued the mission of announcing this vision of God, which entails hearing, understanding, and doing God's word (Mr 13:23). Jesus enfleshed this vision in his compassionate encounters with those considered least (Mt 25:40).18 Called to a prophetic role, Jesus proclaimed a confidence in God's activity and lived within the reign of God. Jon Sobrino describes his acts and gestures: "His most fundamental gesture is taking sides with human beings in a concrete situation where the existing political religious structure has dehumanized people . Jesus does all he can to concretize and make present real love as the quintessence of the kingdom." 19 The story of the Canaanite woman illustrates a conversion in Jesus' public ministry (Mt 15:21-28). This woman is an ethnic and religious outsider in Israel. She pleads with Jesus for mercy for herself and healing for her daughter. At first Jesus does not respond to her; he understands his mission to be to the Israelites. The disciples, lacking understanding and compassion, want Jesus to get rid of her. Persistent, she continues to appeal to Jesus for help. As he listens to her, he is moved to enter into deeper discussion and uses a familiar parable to oppose her request. He refuses her plea for help with the image of the family's bread not being meant for dogs. Picking up on the image, the woman asks for crumbs from the master's table, thus boldly claiming a share in the reign of God that Jesus proclaims. Jesus is moved by her faith and expands the boundaries of his ministry to include the Gentiles. And so it is that Jesus, through dialogue with an outsider and a woman, sees his God-given mission changed to a greater inclusiveness. This decision of compassionate love comes from a summons through relationship. God is revealed through-others. In relationships we know and experience God. In his relationship with the Canaanite woman, we see Jesus Review for Religious emotionally engaging the spirit of the woman as she challenges his position. He realizes that he has to be responsible to this new interpersonal relationship. His decision is a moral choice within a sociopolitical and religious setting. His discernment is based on a wider understanding of the reign of God. This story gives evidence that even Jesus had a kind of conversion upon receiving a word-of-God summons through someone else's plea for mercy. The Principle of Conversion When we engage in a life of merciful love, when we place ourselves in situations where we work for and develop relationships with others, such relationships begin to include compassion. As this compassion deepens, it leads us to a greater justice. When systems and strategies meet an impasse, we are led into the deeper mystery of Christian love. Conversion to mercy is not primarily about doing specific works. It is an attitude, a horizon of being, or what Jon Sobrino calls a principle. The "principle of mercy is a fundamental attitude at the root of every human interaction," which then "affects all subsequent interactions." The principle of mercy "becomes justice" by engaging all levels of energy: intellectual, religious, scientific, and technological.2° Mercy animates a conversion that leads to changes in relationships, changes in thinking, acting, and believing. Sobrino learned an amazing truth through the martyrdom of his brother Jesuits and the women who worked with them. He now believes that nothing is as "vital in order to live as a human being than to exercise mercy on behalf of cn~cified people, and that nothing is more humanizing than to believe in the God of Jesus.''21 The exercise of mercy becomes a quality of being in all who engage in merciful justice. In discerning mercy as justice, we are summoned to share in the life of the Word of God, to fall in love, and, through ongoing Christian conversion, to live forever. Notes Gage Canadian Dictionary (Toronto: Gage Publishing Co., 1983). Karl Rahner, Foundations, trans. William V. Dych (New York: Seabury Press, 1978), p. 127. January-February 2002 McAl~in ¯ Conversion 3 Karl Rahner, Nature and Grace (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1963), pp. 24-26. 4 Attributed to Pedro Arrupe, superior general of the Jesuits from 1965-1983. s Attributed to Pedro Arrupe. 6 Sandra M. Schneiders, Finding the Treasure (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 2000), pp. 37-39. 7 Bernard J.E Lonergan, Method in Theology (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1971), p. 105. 8 Walter E. Conn, Conversion: Perspectives on Personal and Social Transformation (New York: Alba House, 1978), p. 13. 9 Conn, Conversion, p. 45. 10 Conn, Conversion, p. 45. 11 Elizabeth Johnson, She l.Vho Is: The Mystery of God in Feminist Theological Discourse (New York: Crossroad, 1993), p. 64. 12 Walter E. Conn, Christian Conversion: A Developmental Interpretation of Autonomy and Surrender (New York: Paulist Press, 1986), p. 268. 13 Demetrius Dumm, Flowers in the Desert: A Spirituality of the Bible (New York: Paulist Press, 1987), p. 28. ~4 Donald Gray, "Was Jesus a Convert?" Religion in Life 43 (Winter 1974), citing Hugh Montefiore, Awkward Questions on Christian Love (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1964), p. 449. ,s Conn, Conversion, p. 215. 16 Gray, "Was Jesus a Convert?". p. 449. ,7 Elaine Wainwright, "The Gospel of Matthew," in Elizabeth Schiissler Fiorenza, ed., Searching the Scriptures: A Feminist Commentary (New York: Crossroad, 1994), p. 636. ~8 Ibid, p. 637. 19jon Sobrino, Christology at the Crossroads (New York: Orbis Books, 1978), p. 92. 20 Donald L. Gelpi SJ, The Turn to Experience in Contentporary Theology (New York: Paulist Press, 1994), p. 134. 21 Jon Sobrino, The Principle of Mercy: Taking the Crucified People from the Cross (New York: Orbis Books, 1994), p. 10. Review for Religious STEVE WLUSEK Seminary Formation and Lonergan's Conversion Theory i~arpe~P diem! Seize the day! Make your lives something ~ remarkable!" With these words Robin Williams's char-acter in the movie Dead Poets' Society begins to inspire his students not to just go through the paces of the educational system, but to make something of their time in school and of their very lives. He evokes their conversion from apathetic docil-ity to active participation in their own education. At turning points such as this, people begin to discover their own identity and mission. Bernard Lonergan's theory of conversions can illu-minate such personal development, anyone's, but here my focus is on seminary formation. Lonergan identifies four main conversions in life: moral, affec-five, critical moral, and religious.1 Each of these conversions opens people to a deeper awareness of their true self and brings about greater self-transcendence, allowing true relationships to develop with other people and especially with God. Lonergan bases his theory of conversions on the concept that everyone is self-cen-tered to some degree and that everyone's growth must begin from that point.2 From my perspective of ministering to many people in both parish and seminary, I have seen a number of degrees of self-centeredness. Steve Wlusek, a diocesan priest, is a faculty member of his diocese's St. Peter's Seminary; 1040 Waterloo Street; London, Ontario; N6A 3Y1 Canada. January-February 2002 Wlusek ¯ Seminary Formation A brief description of these conversions of Lonergan's will, I think, elucidate the validity of his theory for the ministry of seminary formation. Lonergan defines conversion as a fateful call to a dreaded holiness, an about-face by which we move into a radically new horizon, a personal entrance of God into our life and history, a communication of God to us.3 A person's con-version does not just happen; rather, it is a fundamental choice: "Conversion is a change of direction and, indeed, a change for the better. One frees oneself from the unauthentic. Harmful, dangerous, misleading satisfactions are dropped. Values are apprehended where before they were overlooked. Scales of pref-erence shift."4 Moral conversion is "choosing value as the criterion of one's life.''s In undergoing this form of conversion, one realizes that there is more than oneself that needs to be protected and respected. One's sensitivity is changed from wanting one's own life to be fair, to wanting justice for others and realizing that one has an obligation to work toward providing that justice. Moral conversion, therefore, is an impetus to move outside of oneself, which stretches that self to becoming other-conscious. Lonergan likens affective conversion to falling in love. Whereas moral con-version moves a person to be concerned for the well-being of others, affective conversion arouses one to be so moved regard-ing the other's well-being that one's entire orientation shifts to a concern which is expressed in action. Affective conversion involves not only the possibility of committing oneself to a course of active servi~e of another, but also the ability to execute that decision over the long haul.6 Lonergan identifies critical moral conversion as changing one's standard for personal orientation. Those who undergo this conversion come to a healthy sense of the sacred within themselves. They do not need to look somewhere else beyond themselves to discover what is real or valuable; they accept the validity of their own judgment. During the gradual process of their personal development and their prudently increasing autonomy, they reach a crucial point. They discover that their own judging and deciding affect them no less than the objects of their judgments and decisions. They realize that they are respon-sible for what they make of themselves, and that their choices are crucial in the process of becoming authentic persons.7 Review for Religious Through religious conversion, one falls in love with God and surrenders oneself completely to God. This conversion moves one to live with this attitude: "Whatever you want for me, God, I want it too." Lonergan portrays the one who has been trans-formed through this religious conversion as being "a subject in love, a subject held, grasped, possessed, owned through a total and so an other-worldly love.''8 Religious conversion creates a basic consciousness that enables one to appreciate all as gift from God. This consciousness impacts how one views oneself, one's situation, and one's role in the human condition.9 In mov-ing out of oneself to embrace God in religious conversion, then, one also lovingly em-braces other people, sensing their Beloved dwelling therein. Lonergan's theory of con-versions can have constantly renewed application, for the Christian life is one of ongoing conversion, with people's lives seldom following his theory once and for all, neatly, step-by-step. Ongoing conversions, relevant as they are for people in general, are relevant also for seminar-ians and those who assist in their discernments on their path toward the priesthood. Using composite portraits of three sem-inarians, I hope to show how Lonergan's theory may be of help. The first of these three, John, had a sense of conversion at around the age of twelve. He had for several years been a server at parish Masses and had a deep admiration for his parish priest. John saw in him a man of Eindness and deep faith and love for God. As John served at the altar with this priest, and watched him minister, he came to a growing awareness that he wanted to be a priest just like his pastor, dedicating his life to serving God. His parents were eager about the prospect of their son becom-ing a priest. John entered the minor seminary at age thirteen. John has completed his college studies and is now studying the-ology in the major seminary. Although John is ardent in his prayer and during liturgies, he seems deficient in some of his relationships. He comes late for class and other formation group Lonergan identifies critical moral conversion as changing one's standard for personal orientation. January-February 2002 Wlusek ¯ Seminary Formation events, and he shows little respect for his peers. He and a friend from his hometown talk exclusively to each other at meals, ignoring the other seminarians nearby. Lonergan's theory reveals that John may have experienced a moral conversion, which set him on the path to serving God as a priest, but he still seems to need an affective conversion so as to have much more respect and compassion for others. Peter, another seminarian, was very much involved in his parish before entering the seminary. He experienced conver-sion through youth retreat weekends, which seemed to change his life. Since these weekends, he has served in many ways through his parish youth ministry: visiting nursing homes, vol-unteering at a soup kitchen, and packing boxes in his local food bank. In his seminary activities he does tremendous service at his field-education placement. His supervisor reports that he is looked up to by everyone at the center and that the physically challenged people he works with look forward to his visits with them. Although all of this is true and highly commendable, Peter's behavior in the seminary community is less than could be desired. He forgets his duties to read or serve at Eucharist, he gives people who disagree with him the silent treatment, and he snubs those who are not in his select group of friends. Peter seems to have undergone moral and affective conversions: he has been moved to work for the care of others and for justice towards them. Peter, however, has compartmentalized this awareness; it pertains only to those outside his immediate com-munity. He is eager to go out of the building to do outreach, yet he fails to recognize opportunities for outreach right in the hall-way where he lives. The third seminarian, Mark, entered the seminary after graduating from university and working in a respected career for several years. While engaged in this career, which involved help-ing others, he came to a realization that what he was doing was not enough. Even though he was helping pgople, he felt he could help them only materially. He came to understand deeply that God was calling him to use his intelligence and ability to help people not only materially but spiritually. Currently, in the seminary, Mark quietly serves others and looks after the needs of sick seminarians and those overly stressed by their studies. He does so in a quiet manner, seeking no recognition or praise. He Review for Religious goes to his parish field-education placement eagerly, seeing an opportunity for the kind of service to which he feels God is calling him. While others complain around the meal table about the food or about the workload they are under, never is "heard a discouraging word" from Mark. He has lived on his own and has done plenty of work in his former career. In the chapel he is often found in prayer or reading books from the spiritual masters. Mark is a man of self-assuredness, maturity, and desire for God. He seems to have undergone moral, affective, and crit-ical- moral conversions. I believe that Mark and the other semi-narians mentioned have experienced different degrees of religious conversion as well. All of them, however, still need further growth toward a complete yes to God (as we all do). Understanding the level to which seminarians have under-gone these conversions is crucial in the role of seminary for-mation. Part of the role of seminary formators is to discern, with other faculty members, candidates' readiness to progress further in the formation program. Lonergan's theory of con-versions can help tremendously in this work. Awareness is the first step towards action. By being more aware of the levels of seminarians' conversion, we will be able to identify areas in which we can help them grow. The saying that "faith is caught and not taught" is good to remember when reflecting on our seminarians' conversions. It is not simply the teaching of the-ology that will evoke a personal about-face. We need to foster various circumstances wherein conversion may be experienced: in supportive and nurturing encounters of spiritual direction, in open and mutually respectful formation-group dialogues, in teaching filled with dynamism and conviction, in field education and theological reflection which help students reflect on the needs of people in their community, in experiences of working with the poor, and in celebrations of liturgies that are inspiring and affectively moving. The teacher in Dead Poets' Society took seriously his respon-sibility to motivate his students to make their lives remarkable. Through the insight gained from Bernard Lonergan's theory of conversions, we can appre.ciate in a new way our role in priestly formation to discern the status of candidates' conversion life and to present them with opportunities for deeper conver-sion, so they can make of their lives what they were made for. January-February 2002 Wlusek ¯ Seminary Formation Through these experiences of faith, nurture, and co~nmunity, seminarians will be able not only to come to deeper conver-sion, but to embrace more fully their true identities in union with God. Notes 1 Bernard Lonergan, Method in Theology (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1990), p. 238. 2 Walter E. Conn, The Desiring Self(New York: Paulist Press, 1998), p. 67. 3 Lonergan, p. 113. 4 Lonergan, p. 52. s Conn, p. 118. 6 Conn, p. 121. 7 Mary Kay Kinberger MSC, Lonergan on Conversion: Applications for Religious Formation (New York: Peter Lang, 1992), p. 38. 8 Lonergan, p. 240. 9 Kinberger, p. 46. January January blizzards on the heels of Christmas. Winter grips the snow-encrusted land with the iron determination Grandma whipped egg whites into stiff miniature Alpine peaks. The time of rushing has passed. No birds sing joyously. Nor do dogs bark with gusto. Last year's wild roses have long gone into seed. It is a season for me to listen: maybe to a heartbeat, an old man fingering his worn beads. Or, in my moments of stillness, hear the whisper of the Epiphany Child inviting me go out into the cold and visit those who are old, grieving, sick, and forgotten. Richard Heatley Review for Religious PATRICIA ANN LAMOUREUX AND PAUL ZILONKA The Workers in the Vineyard: Insights for the Moral Life Bracelets with the letters WWJD are popular these days. They are meant to remind the wearer and others to keep asking What Would Jesus Do? This practice assumes that we can fairly quickly see or reason to what Jesus would do in response to the moral dilemmas of life in 2 lst-century America. It ought not surprise us that these bracelets are promoted more by evangelical groups than by those who take more seriously the challenge of modern biblical exegesis and hermeneutics. In light of the Second Vatican Council's call to develop moral theology in accordance with the biblical vision, Catholic moral theologians have given the relationship of Scripture and ethics increased scholarly attention.1 Increased knowledge, however, has led to greater appreciation for the complexity of the task. Although constructive proposals for relating Scripture and ethics are still only being tested, many people nowadays are better prepared to avoid facile answers and improve inadequate ones. In this essay we try to discern ethical implications of the parable about the workers in the vineyard (Mt moral insight Patricia Ann Lamoureux teaches moral theology and Paul Zilonka CP teaches Scripture at St. Mary's Seminary and University; 5400 Roland Avenue; Baltimore, Maryland 21210. ~tanuary-February 2002 Lamoureux and Zilonka ¯ The Workers in the Vineyard In Galilee at that time, there were three types of relationship pertaining to work: patronage, exploitation, or cooperation. 20:1-16). The story disconcerts many people's sense of jusfce. We undertake this task with recognition of the danger of selecting one text from "a rich symphony of literary forms . . composed of a chorus of voices speaking out of a variety of historical and cultural contexts and a number of theological perspectives and addressing a broad spectrum of moral questions.''2 While focusing on the vineyard parable, we are not attempting to reduce this "rich orchestration" to a "simple melody line.''3 Nor are we suggesting that this story somehow contains all that Scripture has to say about morality in general or justice in particular. We approach the parable in three steps: (1) investigating the original set-ting and meaning of the parable (the exegetical task); (2) assessing how to appropriately employ this parable within the various levels of moral reflection (the methodological task); (3) interpreting the meaning of the parable for our contemporary situation (hermeneutical task).4 Let us begin with the parable: For the kingdom of heaven is like a landowner who went out early in the morning to hire laborers for his vineyard. After agreeing with the laborers for the usual daily wage, he sent them into his vineyard. When he went out about nine o'clock, he saw others standing idle in the marketplace, and he said to them, "You also go into the vineyard, and I will pay you whatever is just." So they went off. When he went out again about noon and about three o'clock, he did the same. And about five o'clock he went out and found others standing around, and he said to them, "Why are you standing here idle all day?" They said to him, "Because no one has hired us." He said to them, "You also go into my vineyard." When evening came, the owner of the vineyard said to his foreman, "Call the laborers and give them their pay, beginning with the last and then going to the first." When those hired about five o'clock Review for Religious came, each of them received the usual daily wage. Now when the first came they thought they would receive more, but each of them also received the usual daily wage. And when they received it, they grumbled against the landowner, saying, "These last worked only one hour, and you have made them equal to us who have borne the burden of the day and the scorching heat." But he replied to one of them, "Friend, I am doing you no wrong; did you not agree with me for the usual daily wage? Take what belongs to you and go; I choose to give to this last the same as I give to you. Am I not allowed to do what I choose with what belongs to me? Or are you envious because I am generous? So the last will be first, and the first will be last." (Mt 20:1-16) Exegetical Task In this section we explore what the parable meant to the people who first heard or read it. It is possible and even likely that Jesus' original audience, and Matthew's community too, included people of the social class of the vineyard .owner (landholders, merchants, entrepreneurs) as well as employed and unemployed workers. In lst-century Galilee, harvest time in a vineyard was fraught with tension. When the crop was ready, there could be no delay. All hands were needed to bring in the fruit at the peak of maturity. Also, the condition of day labor in the Hellenistic-Roman world was dreadful. The employer of the ancient world was master of his money; he could do with it as he chose. Commonly, employers looked in the marketplace of the city for unemployed men hoping to be hired. The agreement with those called at dawn was for "the usual daily wage" in that agrarian context. These men worked for whatever the employer was willing to pay, usually subsistence wages at the lowest level for a day's work. As the day went on, more laborers were needed. Thus we can understand the repeated excursions of the owner of the vineyard back to the town square seeking extra workers, even as the day waned. These others were promised what was "just," but the amount remained unspecified.5 In Galilee at that time, there were three types of relationship pertaining to work: patronage, exploitation, or cooperation. The January-February 2002 Lamoureux and Zilonka ¯ The Workers in the Vineyard latter would seem to explain the parable in regard to the workers of the first hour and those of the subsequent hours too. They agree to cooperate in doing the work for a stipulated amount, "the daily wage" for the first group and "what is just" for the latter groups. They are day workers rather than those enjoying the pati'onage relationship, which has a more permanent quality. Nor are they being exploited as slaves.6 Yet they grumble when workers hired at the 'end of the day receive the full daily wage. Over the years many people have been upset by the logic of the landowner, startled by what seems to be his "unbusinesslike" behavior. Those hired in the last moments of the workday could hardly have hoped for more than a small fraction of what the first would receive. After all, they had worked so little. The vineyard owner's payments take

Issue 16.2 of the Review for Religious, 1957. ; A.M.D.G. Review for. Reh ious MARCH 15, 1957 Psychological Screening . Richard P. Vaughan The Religious Teacher . Sister M. Aurella Background of the Supernatural Life. Da.iel J. Formation o1: Religious Priesks . Pope Plus XII Roman Documents . R. F. Smith Book Reviews (~uestions and Answers Summer Institutes VOLUME 16 NUMBER 2 REVIEW FOR RI LIGIOUS VOLUME 16 MARCH,.1957 NUMBER 2 CONTI::NTS MORAL ISSUES IN PSYCHOLOGICAL SCREENING-- Richard P. Vaughan, S.J . 65 SUMMER INSTITUTES FOR RELIGIOUS .78 THE RELIGIOUS TEACHER AND VOCATIONS~ Sister M. Aurelia, O.S.F . 79 - OUR CONTRIBUTORS . '. 81 THE BACKGROUND OF THE SUPERNATURAL LIFE-- Daniel J. M. Callahan, s.J . 82 SOME BOOKS RECEIVED . 87 THE EDUCATION AND FORMATION OF RELIGIOUS PRIESTS Pope Plus XII . 88 SURVEY OF ROMAN DOCUMENTS~R. F. Smith, S.J . 102 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS--- 3. Varying Interpretations of Local Superiors . 112 4. Reappointment of Master and Assistant Master of Novices . 112. 5. Sisters Driving Cars . 113 6. Reception of Renewals of Vows . " . 113 7. Procurator General and Manner of Recurring to the Holy See 114 8. Unequal Suffrages . 116 9. Obligation of Weekly Confession . 116 10. Special Jurisdiction Not Required for Postulants . 117 11. Obligation to Receive Blessing of Extraordinary Confessor . 118 12. A Religious as Executor of the Will of Lay People . 118 BOOK REVIEWS AND ANNOUNCEMENTS-- Editor: Bernard A. Hausmann, West Baden College West Baden Springs, Indiana . 119 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, March, 1957. Vol. 16, No. 2. Published bi-monthly by The Queen's Work, 3115 South Grand Blvd., St. Louis 18, Mo. Edited by the Jesuit Fathers of St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesi-astical approval. Second class mail privilege authorized at St. Louis, Mo. Editorial Board: Augustine G. Ellard, S.J.; Gerald Kelly, S.J.; "Henry "vVillmering, S.J. Liteiary Editor: Robert F. Weiss, S.J. Copyright, 1957, by The Queen's Work. Subscription price in U.S.A. and Canada: 3 dollars a year; 50 cents a copy. Printed in U.S.A. Please send all renewals and new subscriptions to: Review for Religious, 3!15 South Grand Boulevard, St. Louis 18, Missouri. Moral Issues in Psychological Screening Richard P. Vaughan, S.J. AS THE use of psychological testing for' candidates to the religious life has become more. widely known and ~ac-cepted, certain moral questions have presented themselve~ to the minds of the superiors who have considered the possio sibility of adopting some kind of a screening program. It is the aim of the present article to consider some of these questions and to offer a solution for each. Purpose of Psychological Testing Psychological testing is a means of evaluating an individ-ual's personality and ability. Its purpose is to predict the suit-ability and fitness of an individual for a position, course of studies, or state of life. When testing is applied to candidates for the religious life, the aim of the program is to determine whether the candidate has the necessary qualifications to lead the life of a religious in some particular institute, such as the Franciscans or Carmelites. These quahficattons are primarily limited to factors of personality affecting mental health. However, when there is a need to know about the intellectual capacity of an individual, psychological testing may also be used. Psychological testing, as presently used by religious for their candidates, does not offer any direct information about what one may call the internal workings of a vocation. Needless to say, it does not measure the influence of grace upon the soul. It does not in any way pretend to fathom the extent to which the soul has been moved by the Holy Spirit. Nevertheless, such testing does in a number of instances give some indication of what might be called natural motivating forces behind a desire for the religious life. In addition to the Workings of grace, the average, candidate usually has a number 65 I~ICHARD P. VAUGHAN Review for Religious of subs~idiary reasons which are instrumental in his choice of the religious state. He might be attracted by the companionship of community life or by' the opportunity to devote his life to study and teaching. Such inclinations frequently manifest themselves in a testing situation. Moreover, sometimes natural motives, which should be secondary, assume primary importance:. In these in-stances, the superior who has received a psychological evaluation of the candidate is in a better position to make a decision as to the candidate's suitability. .Finally, there are cases where the candidate may desire the religious life for purely natural reasons. An example of such a candidate would be the young woman who wishes to enter the convent because conditions at home are intolerable. Psychological testing can give indications of such motivation. It frequently "happens that the candidate is not aware of the influence of such a motive upon her final decision to enter the religious state. Through the medium 0f testing followed by interviews this influence can be brought to light, and thus the possibility of a costly mistake is lessened. The function of testing is very similar to that of the physical examination which is demanded of every candidate before he or she is accepted into the religious life. Both examinations are looking for signs of illness which will render the candidate un-suited for the religious life in a definite order or congregation. The one seeks indications of physical illness; the other, indica-tions of psychological illness. Unfortunately, the psychological aspects of the human being are not as readily discernible as the purely physical. There is much in the psychological life of an indi~vidual which lies beneath the surface and thus passes un-noticed, but .which offers definite indications of-future emotional upheaval. In some cases, the individual consciously defends against revealing this hidden "matter, lest it be detrimental to him. In other cases, the unconscious processes completely hide the matter from the individual himself. Mental fitness for the religious life often depends upon the content of this hidden 66 Ma~'ch, 1957 PSYCHOLOGICAL SCREENING matter. To uncover such material, a c6mbination of psychologi-cal testing and interviews is often needed. Although the untrained person is certainly qualified to make some evaluation of the can-didate's personality, he will usually miss most of this hidden matter which gives a deeper clue to the workings of an indi-vidual's personality. The fundamental goal of any screening program is the detection of the grossly abnormal applicant. By this latter phrase is meant the applicant who gives definite signs of debili-tating psychosis or neurosis. He is the candidate who is mentally ill, although his illness may not yet be recognizable to the untrained religious examiner. In its initial stages, mental ill-ness may easily be passed over unnoticed, unless a concerted effort is made to investigate its possible existence. A testing pro-gram that is well conducted can give some indication that suffi-cient mental .and emotional health for leading a normal re-ligious life is wanting in the candidate. Subsequent interviews by trained personnel can put a'finger on the candidate whose mental illness is serious or gives evidence of becoming serious. Such a candidate is as.unfit for the religious life as the candidate who has tuberculosis or amalignant cancer. In considering the possibility of mental illness occurring after the individual has been received into the religious li~e, it should be called .to mind that the religious life, especially in its earliest phases, is such as to be considerably more taxing on psychological strength than the average life outside the cloister or the convent. It can reasonably be presumed that the seriously disturbed person will become pro-gressively worse under the strain of religious life, since he is usually unable to benefit from the many spiritual and natural helps of this life. The Problem of Personal Data Assessing the mental health of a candidate frequently de-mands a very comprehensive and revealing evaluation of his per-sonality. As a result of this need, religious superiors sometimes 67 RICHARD P. VAUGHAN Review for Religious are in doubt as to their right to investigate such highly personal data. Typical examples of traits that'might be discovered through a psychological screening program are as follows: emotional instability, lack of self-control, paranoid-suspiciousness, and deviant sexual tendencies. It is 'obvious that were such personality charac-teristics widely known, they would seriously handicap the future of the candidate, regardless of what state of life he might eventually choose. In considering this problem it is necessary tO understand fully what are the duties" and obligations of the religious superior who has the task of accepting or rejecting candidates. Upon his deci-" sion re~ts the welfare of the Church, as Well as that of the particular order or congregation to which" he belongs. Many of the faithful look upon religious as the personifica-tions of the spirit and teaching of the Church. When they come in contact with or hear about emotionally disturbed religious, their esteem of the Church as an instrument of personal sanctity is con-siderably lessened. For in the minds .of many of these people, mental illness and sanctity are incompatible. The afflicted person would not be in his present state if he had led a holy-life. Unfor-tunafely, some go so far as. to link mental illness with sin. The psychosis or neurosis is simply the result of past wrong-doing. Although the above-mentioned opinions have no scientific basis, still their prevalence makes the. emotionally disturbed religious a source of scandal for these uninformed laymen and laywomen. A further, danger of scandal arises when the faithful have per-sonal dealings with the mentally ill religious. Psychotic a.nd neurotic symptoms frequently manifest themselves in behavior which in the normal person could only be interpreted as sinful. The outbursts of anger seen in a paranoid are but one example of such behavior. Thus, the superior has the obligation, in so far as he is able, to see that he does not admit candidates who are likely to fall prey to mental disease and thus become a source of scandal to the laity. 68 March, 1957 PSYCHOLOGICAL SCREENING If the 'candidate. is'~ulfim~ately destined for holy orders, the duty of the superior to protect the welfare of the Church is even greater, in as much as the Church relies upon the priesthood for her very life. The menially disturbed, priest c~in be a source of great scandal and actually hinder the apostolic work of the Church. Obligations of Superioks A further consideration is ~he ol~ligation a superior has to his own order or congregation and to the individual members of that order or congregation. Every supekior who receives candidates has a definite obligation to his or her institute to accept only those can-didates who will be able tolead the religious life according to the rule of the particular order or congregation the candidate ~.lans to join. It is, moreover, the duty of the superior to see that the rights of the other members of the.community are" protected. Community life is an essential part of the religious lif~ in most orders' and con-gregations. Experience" snows that the mentally ill can do'much to disrupt community life. Finally, it is the "obligation of the superior to see that only those subjects be ~icceptdd who Wil! be able to further the work of the particular order or congregation. In general, it may be said that the seribusly disturbed neurotic or psychotic contributes very little in his lifetime to the specific works of the order, and often actually hinders that wo'rk. Therefore, since the superior has the obligation to look after the welfare of his order or congregation and its members, he or she has the right to use every legitimate means to accomplish this end, A well-conducted psychological screening program would seem to be a legitimate means of' eliminating those who are incapable of leading the relig-ious life and of fostering the specific works of a given order or congregation because bf poor mental health. Thus, it seems clear that the superior has the right to inves-tigate such highly personal data' as one would obtain from a screening program, if he thinks that such information is neces-sary to determine the mental and emotional health of the candi-date. This right stems from the obligation of the superior to 69 RICHARD P. VAUGHAN Review for Religious protect the welfare of the Church and his order. To accomplish this end, it may happen that the superior will have to investigate matter pertaining to the conscience of the candidate. Ii: this investigation is thought necessary, the superior has not only the right but also the duty to ask about such matters, and the candidate has an equal duty to reveal whatever information the superior thinks necessary to arrive at a correct decision with reference to the existence of a true vocation. It should be noted that all information derived from a screening program is received in the strictest confidence. Thus, it can be revealed only to the superior who must decide upon the suitability of the candidates and, if needed, his or her consultors. Under these circumstances, the fear of any damage that might occur to the reputation o~ the candidate would seem to be minimized. I~ the candidate is rejected, in the minds of his friends and associates he could have been rejected for any o~: a dozen or more reasons. His rejection because oI: poor mental health need never be known. Refusal To Cooperate Before beg!nning a screening program, it would probably be well to inform the candidate by letter of the general aim, nature, and need of such a program. The purpose of the letter is to acquaint the candidate with some of the notions involved in screen-ing and to dispose him or her more favorably towards the pro-gram. The emphasis is placed on the personal advantage of the program for the candidate. A mistake about one's vocation is usually costly in time and money, not to mention the emo-tional upheaval that frequently results when a.religious leaves after several years in the life. Immediately preceding the administration of a series of psychological tests, the psychologist again explains the purpose and need of the program. The candidates are then urged to be frank and honest in answering the items. Most candidates 70 March, 1957 PSYCHOLOGICAL SCREENING will acquiesce in thi~ request, since by this time they realize that the program is devised imt only for the good of the order or congregation that they plan to join, but also for their own good. However, it is not beyond the realm of possibility that a candi-date will absolutely refuse to submit to the testing progr~im. This situation would then ~resent a further moral issue. Has the superior the right to reject" any candidate who refuses to take the psychological te~ts Or who gives every indication that he did not cooperate in taking the tests, thus nullifying the test results? In answering this question, it should be noted that each order or congregation with the approbation of the Holy See has the right to establish the qualifications that it desires among its members. The superior who accepts the candidates acts in the name of the. order or congregation. Thus, he has the duty to see that these qualifications are met. Among the many qualifications for any type of religious life, mental health is a primary requisite. It therefore follows that the. superior can use every legitimate means at his disposal to guarantee that only the fit and suitable candidates are accepted. Psychological screening has come to be an acceptable instrument for determining the suit-ability of candidates as far as their mental health is concerned. Hence, it follows that the superior has the right to refuse admittance to those candidates who reject the testing program or give clear evidence that they did not cooperate, since these candidates have failed to give sufficient indication that they meet one of the essential requirements of the religious life, at least as far as the superior is able to determine. In passing, it might l~e noted that those who refuse to take the test must have a reason for their refusal; and most probably this refusal is con-nected with some kind of psychological inadequacy. Omission of Items Some personality tests demand the affirmation or denial of a number of statements. A certain small percentage of these items ask the testee to affirm or deny past moral faults. When 71 RICHARD P. VAUGHAN Review for Religious the candidate is faced with such items, he is not obliged to answer them, unless such information is necessary to determine the presence or absence of a vocation. It should be noted that these items usually inquire about specific incidents and not about habits of. sin which could interfere with a vocation. The superior has the right to ask about habits of sin when this information affects his judgment as to the existence of a true vocation. How-ever, isolated incidents of moral iapses usually do not stand in the way of a vocation; hence, if the candidate omitted these items, it Would not substantially affect the purpose for which these tests are given. A ready solution to the problem might be the omission of such items from the tests. However, since a number of the personality tests used in psychological screening have been stan-dardized for a .given population and appear in a printed form, it is very difficult to omit the items. An effort'is currently being made to adapt these standardized-personality tests for the ex-clusive use of religious and their candidates and to establish stan-dards of judgment for this particular segment of the popula-tion. These new standardizations will eliminate undesirable items. In the meantime, the psychologist should choose those tests which are least likely to be affected by this difficulty; where this is not possible, he should make allowances in his interpretation of the test results for a few unanswered items. How Much Confidence in the Testing Program? A further question arises: How much confidence can a superior place in a psychological testing program for candi-dates? The superior not only has an obligation to his own par-ticular order or congregation, but he also has an equal, obligation to the candidate who feels that he has a vocation. Psychological testing for candidates has been used by a number of orders and Congregations of both religious men and women. For the most part, these various religious groups have expressed their satis-faction with the results. However, it should be borne in mind 72 Ma~'ch, 1957 PSYCHOLOGICAL ~CREENING that the whdle program is a" relatively new movement in the Church and that more time is needed before one can reach a certain judgment as to the value of such a program. The tests which are commonly used for ~andidates to the religious life have proved themselves in other areas. Some have and are being used in psychiatric .and psychologial clinics to determine path-ology. It should also be noted tha~ some of the tests used with rdligious candidates have been adapted for this specific, purpose and thus should be even more valuable when used with these populations. Nonetheless, until more data have been gathered and scientifically evaluated, it would s.eem that tl~e most prudent course of action for any superiok who is initiating a testing pro-gram would demand, a cautious and at times skeptical 'acceptance of data received from the testing program. In the beginning, some kind of an interview by trained personnel for those candi-dates who scored poorly on the tests would seem to be almost imperative. In those relatively few instances where test and in-terview results show gross deviation from the normal, rejection of the candidates would seem to be in order. In those cases where the diagnosis from the test results is in doubt, it would seem that the more prudent course in initiating the program would usually be to accept the candidate and observe the nature of hi~ progress ~during the early years of the religious life. ¯ Professional Secrecy A screening program can be administered either by a mem-ber of the religious community who has received adequate train-ing'in psychology or by a lay psychologist who has had experi-ence in clinical testing. Since there are many aspects of the religious life which a layman cannot fully understand, the pro-gram conducted by trained religious personnel is highly desir-able. Once the test results have been interpreted and necessary interviews held, all the information derived from these sources is gathered together and an evaluation of the personality of the candidate is drawn up by, the psychologist. The information 73 RICHARD P.' VAUGHAN Review for Religious contained in these reports has been obtained through the medium of~ professional confidence since the psychologist' is bound by the same type of secrecy as the physician or lawyer who obtain confideniial matter.from their clients. The.candidate, therefore~ has every right to expect that this confidence will b~ safeguarded. Hence, the psychologist can submit the information obtained through testing only to the. religious superior or som~eone ap-pointed by the superior to make the decision as, to the acceptance or rejectiori of the candidate. To reveal the results to any other member of the community or to anyone else, such as a pros-pective ~employer once the application' has been rejected, would involve a violation of professional secrecy. The superior who receives the information from the psy-chologist is not free to speak of it to other members of the com-munity, unless he thinks that he needs to" seek advice from one of his consultors before ~arrivi~ng at a decision, for he is ~bound by the same obligation of secrecy as the psychologist. More-over, if the superior can obtain the advice of the consultors without revealing the identity of the candidate, he should do so. Among certain communities, there is the practice of allowing the master of novices to read the personality evaluations 0f can-didates. Such a procedure would seem to prejudice unduly the master's opinion of the candidates before they are received into the religious life. The doubtful cases especially suffer from this practice. Furthermore, since the novice, while still a candidate, consented to take the psychological examination for the sole pur-pose of determining his suitability, it would seem morally wrong t6 reveal the contents of these tests to the magter for the added purpose of future guidance and direction, unless the novice gives his consent. Rejection of the Candidate /~ When a candidate has been refused admittance into an order or congregation because ot~ poor mental health as indicated by testing and interviews, further moral problems present them- 74 March, 1957 PSYCHOLOGICAL SCREENING selves. The first question that arise~ in such ~in event is whether the candidate should be informed of the specific reason why he has been rejected. In view of the fact that there are several possible reasons besides lack of mental health or psychological fitness that can determine the decision of a superior in accepting or rejecting a candidate, many religious communities prefer simply to inform the applicant that he or she does not appear suited for the religious life. The exact reasons for the rejection are not given; or if they are given, they are stated in such general terms that the candidate does not fully comprehend their import. Hbwever, the outcome of such a procedure sometimes results in a cdrtain amount of discontent on the part of the rejected can-didate. Often this discontent is also manifested by the religious who is sponsoring the candidate. On the other hand, it would seem that the superior has only the obligation to see that the qualifications set down in his institute are fulfilled. If the can-didate does not meet these qualifications, then, in justice to his order, he must reject the candidate; but this rejection does not necessitate his telling the applicant why he has been refused. The decision to reject a candidate poses a further problem, namely, does the superior have any obligation to advise the applicant who is mentally and emotionally disturbed to seek some type of treatment? If such an obligation does exist, it certainly is not one Of justice. Out of justice the superior is simply obliged to inform the candidate that he is not suited for the life. It may then be asked whether out of charity he should give the rejected candidate some advice as to his need of treatment and offer suggestions as to how he might obtain this treatment. If the rejected candidates are not too numerous and there are local facilities which are in a position to offer therapeutic time, it would then seem likely that the superior should out of charity offer some help in this regard. For if nothing is said, there is a great likelihood that'~the illness will become progressively worse until it reaches that state where treatment will be extremely diff'- 75 RICHARD P. ~AUGHAN . Review for Religious cult, if not impossible. Mental illness ;s much more susceptible to treatment in the young than in the old. If hn emotional dis-turbance exists which is not too deep-seated, it is not beyond the realm of possibility that the applicant can be treated and reapply for admittance after a couple of years. In.this manner, a voca-tion can be saved. All the above-mentioned~suggestions imply that the candidate will be informed of the exact nature of his illness, so that he can take some action to rid himself of the affliction. However, if the superior does not see his way clear to offer some suggestion as to possible means of alleviating the difficulty, it would-seem more prudent not to inform the candidate of his condition. Such information without any. hope of doing something about the situation can only lead toga state of frustra-tion and consequently agitate the illness of the rejected candidate. Use of Test Results After Entrance A final aspect pertains to the use of testing results after the candidate has been received into the religious ,life. In any group, of candidates entering the religious life, "there will most probably be some who have been accepted even though their psychological fitness for the life is still in doubt. A number of these doubtful cases will give some indication during their postu-lancy that they ma)) not be completely suited,for the .life. .When the decision must. be made as to Whether they should receive the habit, some superiors will include the psychological evaluation at the .time of entrance as a factor in turning their judgment one way or the other. Since the postulancy is a time of trial, in which both the order or congregation and the individual postulant are trying to determine whether a true vocation is present, it would seem that the superior, who represents the o~der, is justified in using every legitimate means at his disposal so as to arrive at a correct decision. The results of the testing program can be a very valuable aid in reaching this decision. Since the time of postulancy is relatively short, the original test results w0uld prob-ably still- apply to the postulant in doubt. However, if changes 76 March, 1957 PSYCHOLOGICAL SCREENING in personality have become conspicuous during this period, it would be wise to ~e-evaluate the individual through testing and, if necessary, through interviewing. If the postulant has been allowed to take the habit; but, at the end of .the novitiate, there is still some doubt ~asto the psychological fitness, then retesting wouldseem to be in order since the element of more than one and a half years in the religio~us life will significantly influence the personalitypattern of thee novice. This retesting will also give an indication as towhether, during the course of the novitiate, the individual has become more or less psychologically fit for the religious life. Retest results will, thus, furnish helpful supplementary material for the superior who is faced with the difficult~ decision of allowing or refusing permission to take the first vows. If the tests can be evaluated by the same psychologist who had previously conducted the testing program, the results should reveal acciirate and valu-able material. However, it should be noted that neither novices nor reli-gious with their vows can be forced to submit to psychological testing. Such a program of testing is equivalent to a manifesta-tion of conscience, which according to canon law no superior can demand of his subject. The superior, therefore, may not threaten the religious with dismissal if he refuses to take the tests. He should feel free to point out to the subject whose vocation is in dbubt the. advantages of a psychological program. He may not, however, word his advice in ~uch a fashion as to exert pressure upon the religious to submit to the testing. Moreover, the religious who has undergone the psychological investigation must either explicitly 0r implicitly give permission to the superior to obtain the results from the psychologist, It may well be that the religious insists upon dealing directly with the psychiatrist or psychologist in arriving at'a final decision as to whether he or she has a vocation to the religious life. In this case, the superior 77 I~ICHARD P. VAUGHAN ~ould ~ave no fi~t to t~e ~ghly personal data derived from t~e tests and subsequent ~nterv~e~s. Conclusion Psychological screening is a relatively .new approach to the problem of determining 'mental and emotional fitness for the re-ligious life. As in any new movement, questions and doubts are bound to arise. In the case of screening, not the least of these questions and doubts are of a moral nature. However, if the purpose of screening is fully comprehended and the basic principles of moral theology are correctly applied, satisfactory solutions can be found. In the light of these solutions, a cau-tious and prudent use of a well conducted screening program can be extremely valuable and morally justifiable in deciding whether the candidate has the requisite psychological fitness for the religious life. SUMMER INSTITUTES FOR RELIGIOUS The Institute for Religious at College Misericordia, Dallas, Penn-sylvania (a three-year summer course of twelve days in canon law and ascetical theology for sisters), will be held this year August 20-31. This is the second year in the triennial course. The course in canon law is given by the Reverend Joseph F. Gallen~ S.J., that in ascetical theology is given by the Reverend Daniel J. M. Callahan, s.J., both of Wood-stock College. The registration is restricted to higher superiors, their councilors and officials, mistresses of no~ices, and those in similar positions. Applications are to be addressed to the Rev. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J., Woodstock College, Woodstock, Maryland. The Reverend Owen M. Cloran, S.J., will direct an Institute in Canon Law for Religious Women at St. Louis University, June 10-14. During the summer session from June 18 to July 26, the religion department will include courses on the sacramental life, Sacred Scrip-ture, moral guidance of adolescent girls, and God the author of the supernatural life. Inquiries concerning the Institute or the courses should be directed to the Department of Religion, St. Louis University, St. Louis 3, Missouri. 78 The Religious Teacher and Vocal:ions Sister M. Aurelia, O.S.F. NO ASPECT of the life of a priest or of a religious brother o~ sister is so mysterious as the manner in which the individual received the call to this special form of life. Every religious vocation has a divine origin; God is its first cause. Seemingly, there are many secondary causes; but, in the last analysis, a religious vocation comes from.God Himself. God does, however, make use of various agencies and circumstances to accomplish His purpose. The home, the Church, and the school often serve indirdctly as God's instruments in the develop-ment of vocations. A good Catholic home is the nursery for religious vocations. Statistics prove that a home in which the parents are leading truly Christian lives produces more vocations to th.e priesthood or the religious life than homes where the parents are careless and indifferent Catholics. Zealous priests, by their counsel .and friendly interest, direct many chosen souls to the service of God as priests, brothers~ or sisters. Many a religious vdcation has been brought to life by a prudent director. The Catholic school, however, is predominantly the source of religious vocations. Whil~ it is true that some earnest young people who have not had the opportunity of attending a Catholic school have become good priests, brothers, or sisters, the greater number of vocations are found among young people who are the product of Catholic schools. Therefore, religious teachers play an important part in God's plan for vocations. The manner in which God calls individuals is as varied as the characters of the individuals themselves. Some are called 79 SISTER M AURELIA directly; for example, John and Andrew, the first disciples of Our Loid, were called directly by Christ when He said to them, "Come and see." Peter was brought to our Lord by his brother Andrew. Even today some souls' receive a direct call from our Lord when He says to their wavering hearts, "Come and see." Probably most calls today are indirect, coming to souls through the instrumentality of others. It may be through a kind word, a tactful suggestion,., or the personal example of a priest or a religious brother or sister. It is, then, one of the most sacred duties of the religious teacher to develop a real understanding and appreciation of the religious life, to explain its concepts and ideals, and to create in the minds of the young a willingness and an ability to assume a life of prayer and sacrifice. This means to make young people vocation-minded, to make them reflect that perhaps God has chosen them to be among His select ones. " The personality of the teacher plays an important role in this respect. Some one has aptly said, "Though we soon forget what our teachers taught us, we readily remember the teachers themselves, their personality, their whims and humors, their ideals and enthusiasm, the ~ltmosphere they created and the spirit in which they worked.~ Names, dates, details of events fade away; but the personalities of the teachers have left lasting impressions." 'The personal example of a brother or sister is more potent than words. What we are is of greater importance than what we say. Nothing we say influences as much as what we how we acl. Our pupils see us as we really ar~', not as we think we are. We cannot hide our faults and defects, for our lives are as mirrors reflecting our inner selves. Our actions will show more plainly than words that we love our way of life, that we are happy, that we are glad to serve God as religious teachers, that our whole aim in life is to save our souls by drawing others to the knowledge and love of God. Let us examine ourselves. Do our words and actions reveal th~ v~rtues expected of a good religious? Are we friendly, 80 March, 1957 RELIGIOUS VOCATIONS patient, courteous, sympathetic? Do we exhibit self-control at all times, show practical piety--not the mushy, sentimental kind, but sincere humble devotion? Have we a prudent zeal'for the honor and glory of God and the salvation of souls? Kindness, charity, and consideration for others are the most attractive virtdes in a religious teacher. A teacher who is just and square, who is honest and sincere will attract more young people to the religious life than another who speaks piously of virtue and love of God, but who may be unjust, insincere, un-sympathetic, and unforgiving. A teacher who holds a grudge or indulges in spiteful remarks will never instill a love for the religious life. Many a vocation has been nipped in the bud or given up entirely because of a sarcastic, unjust, or disagreeable teacher. Remember that a holy and happy religious is the best advertisement for his or her community.': What kind of advertisement am I for my community? Do I repel others by my brusque, sharp, and domineering manners? Am I kind and considerate in my dealings with my pupils?" with my fellow teachers? Do I always remember that I represent the meek and gentle Jesus? Our love, our enthtisiasm and devotion to our work, tour sincere appreciation of our holy vocation will act as a powerful magnet, drawing others to follow more intimately the loving Christ as a priest, brother, or sister. Good example, prayer, sacrifice, and a holy life are the best means by which we may hope to influence others and make them vocation-minded. OUR CONTRIBUTORS RICHARD P. VAUGHAN is an instructor in psychology at the University of San Francisco and clinica! psychologist for the Mc- Auley Clinic, St. Mary's Hospital, 'San Francisco. SISTER M. AURELIA is co-author of Practical Aids for Catholic Teachers and, after teaching school for fifty-four years, is now retired at the Mother House, Millvale, Pennsylvania. DANIEL J. M. CALLAHAN, pro-fessor of dogmatic theology for thirty years, is now engaged in coun-selling and retreat work for priests and religious at Woodstock College, Woodstock, Maryland. R. F. SMITH is a member of the faculty of St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas. 81 The Background :he. ¯ Superna!:ural Lit:e Daniel J. M. Callahan, S.J. m~mO STRIVE for the perfection of the supernatural life is mandatory for us as religious. ~ Obviously then, our asceti-cism must be founded on the truths of faith, and a thorough appreciation of them will be the strongest incentive to the cor-rection of our faults and to the practice of virtue. In con. sequence,, a clear understanding of the supernatural is of primary importance first for our personal sanctity and then for the success of our apostolate, which is, like that of St. Paul, "To announce among the Gentiles the good tidings of the unfathomable riches of Christ, and to enlighten all men as to what is the dispensation of the mystery which has been hidden from eternity in God, who created all things" (Eph. 3:8-9). The present paper aims at the exposition of the background oi: the supernaturalas it appears in divine revelation. Though grafted on the natural, the supernatural life abso-lutely transcends the natural, but the better we comprehend the latter, the more readily shall we apprehend the fo~mer. What then is the implication of a state of nature and of a.completely natural life? Though such a condition never existed for human beings, God could have established 'it and been satisfied with it. It would mean that we w.ould be made up of body and soul, of matter and spirit, together with all the capabi!ities requisite for the discharge of human activity and for the attainment of the purpose of our creation. We would have our present composite nature resulting from the components just mentigned, a human personali~ty equipped for the functions of vegetative, sentient, .rational life and requiring due subordination and coordination to our intellect and will for the perfection of the whole. For a composite entity could subsist and evolve only on the supposi-tion of harmonizing its constituents and bringing them under 82 THE SUPERNATURAL LIFE the confrol of the highest of them. Lack of such subordination would cause life to languish, to disintegrate, and ultimately to cease. In consequence, even a purely natural life would involve struggle because of the two levels in our nature, each of which would be drawn to its own gratification, the merely pleasurable and the morally good. There could be a conflict of passion against will, an experience that could be arduous and distressing, although these unruly impulses would not be irresistible. The free will could and should restrain them through inhibition, modera~ tion, and the stimulation of opposing urges to good. In like manner, through self-love and pride, the free will could rebel against the Creator recognized as Supreme Lord, and sin. Man could arrive at the basic principles of mori~l conduct and realize his obligation to shape his life in harmony with them. He would thus be in possession of natural religion, embracing a body of truths .to be accepted, o~ duties to be fulfilled, and the cor-responding sanctions, full natural happiness or proportionate punishment in a future life, for the observance or violation of such fundamental duties. The creation of the universe, and of man in particular, was utterly gratuitous, the outcome of ineffable love. It was ef-fected, not that God might acquire something hitherto wanting, but in order to share the divine treasures with His creatures. Such is the way of true love: it purposes, not the enrichment of the lover, but that of the beloved. Infinite in every manner, God cannot increase His possessions, but He can and does apportion them among His creatures. To this love we all owe our origin; and, having lavished on man all that is inherent to his nature, the Almighty might have been content with His majestic universe and prescribed for us that we employ our native powers for the acquirement of our perfection and ulti-mate destiny, which would consist in a knowledge and love of God derived from the world around us and in a proportionate 83 DANIEL J. M. CALLAHAN Review fo~" Religious happiness here and in the world to come. The creature man could lay claim to nothing more: But God was motivated by love, and true love never says enough, for its measure is to love Without measure. God could and would do for man something more wonderful. Leaving intact his human nature, God engrafted on it another nature, a reality absolutely transcending the re-quirements and exigencies of his nature, a finite participation in the divine nature, constituting him His child and ordaining him to partake of His life through grace here and through the light of glory in the world to come. In a very summary style, such is the content of the revealed truth of our elevation to the super-natural order. A brief clarification may be desirable. God has made known to us the eternal generation of His divine Son, who while differing in person from the Father, shares in one and the same nature with Him. The Second Person is the natural Son of God, consubstantial with the Father, and with the latter the divine principle from which proceeds the Holy Spirit. This is the adorable mystery of the H01y Trinity. Analogically, in a finite manner, at the moment of man's creation God adopted him, extending to him the divine filiation. Rema!ning a creature, man was elevated to the dignity of son of God, enabled to live on a level exceeding all man's natural powers, and to enjoy forever the immediate vision of God in heaven. We are in the presence of a divine marvel, conferred on our first parents, and sincerely proffered to their offspring. Thrbugh the most disinterested and inexpressible goodness and love, G~d implanted in their souls what, not inappropriately we trust, may be termed a supernatural organism, closely paralleling their natural organism and admirably fitting them i~or their adopted life. This included sanctifying grace, corresponding to the human soul, the infused virtues and gifts of the Holy Spirit, analogous to human faculties, and actual grace to supplement God's natural cooperation in created activities. In virtue of habitual grace we 84 March, 1957 THE SUPERNATURAL LIFE share, in a finite degree, in the divine nature; we are God's'chil-dren and heirs of heaven. The infused virtues and gifts of the Holy Spirit perfect our faculties, and actual grace sets the organ-ism in action, enabling us to perform supernatural, meritorious deeds that confer on us a title to the vision of God and life e~ernal with Him. In addition to this supernatural organism the Creator bestowed on our first parents the prerogative of integrity, a preternatural gift excelling their natural constituents and implying the absence of concupiscence and the control of the passions, which, with-out rendering them impeccable, greatly facilitated the practice of virtue. By nature, too, man is incident to sickness and death, but a specific disposition of divine providence gave assur-ance to him of the immortality of his body. Finally, in order to ready Adam for his role as head of humanity, he was granted infused knowledge of the truths needful for the discharge of his unique responsibility. Such privileges implemented human nature with moral rectitude, adjusted it to the life of gr.ace, and, with the exception of infused knowledge, were not a pdrsonal endowment, but a family patrimony to be transmitted to us, conditioned on Adam's fidelity to God. To enable"them to .merit heaven, our first parents~ retained their freedom, the power of turning from real good to that which is btit apparent good. A divine precept was imposed on them. Satan tempted them to disobedience and because of pride and sensuality they succumbed. With the knowledge of God's liberality to them, His inalienable rights to their compliance, the gravity of the mandate, and the severity of the sanction, their willfulness implied a negation of the Creator's dominion and wisdom, and was a grievous sin. What were the consequences? God might have put them to death immediately, b'ut His goodness and mercy are in the fore. He forebore, and though they had forfeited sanctifying grace God condescended to retain in them the virtues of faith and hope. 85 DANIEL J. M. CALLAHAN Review for Religious Through actual grace He induced them to repent, forgave the .sin, and gave them the assurance of a redeemer who would vanquish the evil spirit and reinstate fallen humanity. Nor was their nature impaired, and though weaker in comparison with the energy it enjoyed through the prerogative of integrity, there~ is no conclusive evidence that it was more feeble than it would have been in a purely natural order. In lieu of inheriting their original patrimony, because of the sin of our first parents, we enter the world destitute of sanctifying grace, the infused virtues, the gifts of the Holy Spirit, integrity and immunity from sickness and death. Our situation is similar to that of a child born after the loss of the father's wealth through fault or financial failure: we have suffered a mo-mentous deprivation, but no injustice. The resultant struggle against our lower nature may be arduous and protracted, .but God will never be wanting with His grace and we can achieve victory. Having vividly depicted this inner conflict, St. Paul poses the question: "Unhappy man that I am, who will deliver me from the body of this death?" And he replies at once: "The grace of God through Jesus Christ." Salvation is attainable only through the grace merited ~or us by Christ. Impelled by purest love and measureless kindness, through the mystery of the Incarnation the Second Divine Person became one of us that through our incorporation in Him we may be one with Him. Through a life of obedience and self-abnegation, of adequate and even super-abundant reparation, our Blessed Lord compensated the divine majesty outraged by sin, rendered to God perfect praise, glory, service, and thus reinstated us in the supernatural life. Such is the Catholic dogma of the redemption, operative through the foreseen merits of Jesus from the Fall and effective for all time. Through the infusion of sanctifying grace original sir/ is remitted, and our natural faculties are properly orientated 86 March, 1957 THE SUPERNATURAL LIFE a.nd fortified by means of the infused virtues, .~the,gift~. of the Holy Spirit and actual graces. Christ established the Church,in which and through which He perpetuates His religion, a~suring to God perfect worship, and to us divine truth, wise guidance, and transcendent sanctity. The universal Mediator, the magnetic Ideal for all, through His transforming, divinizirig grace, remedies ~he disasters of sin, and through His sacraments and constant inspirations enables us to approximate the blessed statue of integ-rity forfeited through sin, thus restoring peace, s.ecurity, unioii here, and effortless beatitude in the life beyond. In conclusion, it may be well to assess our practical appr~ci.a-tion of the supernatural and of our superhuman dignity as chil-dren 6f God, brothers and sisters of Jesus. As religious we have superior advantages and we are circumscribed with every safe-guard. Profound faith, constant vigilance tempered with con-fidence, recollection, prayer, self-abnegation are the most appro-priate expression of our gratitude and the efficient means of expanding our new life in Christ, SOME BOOKS RECEIVED [Only books sent directly to the Book Review Editor, West Biaden College, West Baden Springs, Indiana, are included in our Reviews and Announcements. The following books were sent to St. Marys.] Nature: The Mirror of God. Report of the Thirty-Sixth Annual Meeting of the Franciscan Educational Conference, St. Anthony" on-the-Hudson, Rensselaer, N. Y., Aug. 16-19, 1955. By the Fran-ciscan Educational Conference, D.C. $3.50 (paper ~over). Hacia el origen del hombre. Pontificia, Comillas (Santender). The Bible and the Liturgy. Capuchin College, Washington 17, By V. Anderez, S.J. Universidad 120 pesetas (paper cover). By .Jean Danielou, S.J. University of Notre Dame Press, Notre Dame, Indiana. $5.25. The New Ritual: Liturgy and Social O~der. Proceedings of the National Liturgical Week, Worcester, Mass., 1955. By the Liturgical Conference, Elsberry, Mo. $2.00 plus 8c postage (paper cover). The Family Rosary Novena. By Leo M. Shea, O.P., and William Sylvester. Catholic Art Services, Inc., 500 South 4th St. Minneapolis, Minn." $1.00 (paper cover). 87 The I:: lucat:ion and Format:ion ot:: Religious Priest:s Pope Pius XII [EDITORS' No'i~E: This apostolic constitution was issued May 31, 1956, under the title Sedes Sa~ientiae. It states the general principles which are to govern the formation of religious destined for the priesthood. Many of these principles, we think, will be of interest to all religious. The original Latin text appeared in the ilcta/l~ostolicae Sedis, 1956, pp. 354-65.] sEAT OF WISDOM, Mother of God Who is the Lord of all k~owledge, and Queen of the Apostlesmsuch is the Most Blessed Virgin Mary, to whose honor We dedicated an entire holy year. With special reason, then, is she considered the Mother and Teacher of all those who embrace a state devoted to. the acquiring of perfection and at the same time st'~ivd to carry on the apostolic warfare of Christ the Highpriest. The pursuit of so excellent a vocation--religious, and at the same kime priestly and apostolic--urgently demands for its effective realization the leadership and assistance of her who has been appointed the~ Mediatrix of all graces pertaining to sancti-fication and who is rightly called the Mother and Queen of the Catholic priesthood and apostolate. We earnestly implore her favor, therefore, that just as she has procured for Us light from above in framing these regulations, so she may by her. protection assist those whose duty it will be to put them into effect. In the gracious kindness of God's providence it has hap-pened that, throughout the centuries, Christ the Redeeemer has breathed into souls of His predilection in an interior and, as it were, mysti~ conversation that invitation once offered in His living voice to the young man who asked Him about eternal life: "Come, follow Me" (Mt. 19:21). Some of those who by the grace of" God heard that call and like the holy apostles pro-claimed, "We have left everything and followed Thee" (Mt. 88 RELIGIOUS FORMATION 19:27), were also made by our Lord "fishers of men" (Mt. 4:19) and "laborers" chosen by Him to be sent "into His vinyard" (Mt. 9:38). This double vocation occurs today just as in former times, since the union of the states of religious perfection with the priestly dignity and apostolic ministry has become daily more frequent and intimate. For, generally speaking, the monks of antiquity wer.e not priests. The few among them who were forced almost of necessity tb accept the prie.sth.ood in order to convert men to Christianity were somewhat drawn away from their own Rule. In later times the mendicants, although imbued~ with an admirable apostolic zeal, were not all required by their Rule to be priests. Even the holy Father of Assisi himself was not a priest. The canons regular on the contrary, and especially the clerks regular, by a special divine vocation received and exer-cised sacred orders. Finally, innumerable congregations and so-cieties of common life imitated them as clerical institutes. To these are added in our own day (fo~ ~God always provides for the needs of each age) some secular clerical institutes. Besides, at the present time, even in the older orders of the Latin Church which are not formally lay orders, all the mem-bers, with the'exception of those who ard called coadjutors or conversi, are destined for the priesthood, which is, in fact, a strict requirement for those who govern these orders. Consequently, in our time the Church has the benefit of a great host of ministers who devote themselves both to the acquisi-tion of. perfection by the practice of the evangelical counsels and to the fulfillment of the priestly office. This multitude of men constitutes what is called the religious clergy, side by side with those who are called the secular or diocesan clergy. Both are vigorous and flourish in the spirit of fraternal emulation and fruitfully assist one ariother under one and ihe same supreme authority of the Roman Pontiff, with due respect, of course, to the power of the bishops. 89 P~us XII Review for Religious In'order to attain properly 'and surely their double end, it ~must be evident to all that the religious clergy need wise norms by which to guide and promote their education and formation, whether it be religious or clerical and apostolic. Hitherto this need has been satisfied chiefly by the stitutions and' statutes ~of each group by which the training of the young men and their course of studies are regulated; and, of course, prescriptions and regulations of the Holy. See are' not completely lacking. Still, a set of general, coordinated, and more complete, norms which would be supported by the apostolic authority and which would be universally obseived has long been desired in order that this important work, which is of the highes.t moment for the good of souls, may be placed on a sedure foundation .and with continuous and fitting effort~ may be fruit-fully developed and perfected. So excellent a work requires the constant vigilance of the Apostolic~ See itself. Indeed, the diocesan seminaries, which are institutions for the common good in the Church, are under the active care and perpetual control of the Sacred Congregation of Seminaries and Universities. By the same token schools which are recognized and sanctioned by the Church as proper to those who are tending to perfection are likewise institutions for the common good and are subject to the authority of the Sacred Congregation for Religious. It was for these many reasons that, by Our apostolic author-ity, we ratified in 1944 within the Sacred Congregation for Religious, "the erection and establishment of a special committee or commission of qualified men who are to investigate all the questions and matters in any way" pertaining to the religious and clerical education of aspirants, novices, and junior members of any religious order or.society of men living the common .life without vows and also their instruction in letters, the sciences, 'and the ministry" (AAS 36 (1944), 213). 90 March, 1957 RELIGIOUS FORMATION This committee was ~made up of experienced men from different religious bodies and different nations. When the gen-eral congress of the states of perfection was called in 1950, all the existing documents which were relevant had been examined, details of information had been gathered from all parts of the world in accordance with the circular letters sent to all general superiors, and an immense file had been accumulated. After-wards, using various appropriate proposals suggested during the congress, the commission reconsidered and revised the schemata already prepared and finally submitted them for Our approval. Now, therefore, We are issuing a number of statutes, with a preamble containing certain fundamental principles and norms concerning the education and formation--religious as well as priestly and apostolic--of candidates. These principles and norms are to be kept in mind at all times by everyone concerned. II. In the "first place, We wish it to be clear to all th~it the foundation of this entire life, which is called the divine vocation, whether it be religious or priestly and apostolic, consists of two essential elements, one divine and the other ecclesiastical. In regard to the first, the vocation from God to enter the religious or priestly state is so necessary that, without it, the very founda-tion on which the whole edifice rests must be said to be wanting. If God does not call a candidate, His .grace does not move 'nor help him. Indeed, a true vocation to any state must be regarded as, in a measure, divine, in the sense that God Hims.elf is the principal author of all states and all dispositions and. gifts, whether natural or st~pernatural. Bu~ this is especially true of a religious and priestly vocation which is resplendent with so sublime a title and which abounds with so many natural and supernatural endowments that it cannot but "descend from the Father of lights from whom every best and perfect gift comes" (James 1:17). 91 PIUS XII Review for Religious The second element of oa religious and sacerdotal vocation, as the~ Roman Catechism teaches, is this: "Those are said to be called by God who are called by the lawful ministers of the Church." This by no means contradicts the things We have said about the divine vocation; rather it is most closely associated with them. The divine vocation to the religious and clerical itate means that one is destined to lead publicly'a life of self-sanctifiCation and to exercise a hierarchical ministry in the Church which is a visible and hierarchical society. Consequently, this vocation must be authoritatively approved, accepted, and controlled by the hier-archical superiors to .whom the government of the Church has been divinely committed. All who are charged with the task of bringing to light and testing such vocations must be alert to these truths. They must never in any way force a person to embrace the priestly or religious state, nor may they persuade or accept anyone who does not clearly show the true signs of a divine vocation. Similarly, no one must be urged to the clerical ministry who indicates that he has received from God a vocation only to the religious life. Moreover, those who have° been given the gift of a religious vocation must not be pressed or drawn into the secular, clergy. Finally, let no one be turned from the priestly state who is known by definite signs to be divinely called to it. Evidently, then, those who aspire to do service as clerics in the state of perfection and for whom these norms are estab-lished must have at the same time all those qualities which are required to constitute a multiple vocatibn of this kind, religious as well as sacerdotal and apostolic. Consequently, all the gifts and qualities which are considered n~c'essary for the fulfillment 6f divine offices so sublime ought to be found in them. III. Moreover, the ~eeds of the divine vocation and the qualities required for it, even when present, obviously need education and 92 March, 1957 RELIGIOUS FORMATION formation to develop and mature. Nothing is immediately perfect at birth, but attains perfection by degrees. In regulating this development all the circumstances both of the person who has been divinely called and of place and time must be taken into account in order that the desirdd end may be effectively reached. The education and formation of the junior members, therefore, should be thoroughly sound, enlightened, solid, and complete. It should be wisely and courageously adapted to present-day needs whether internal or external. It ought to be assiduously developed and watchfully tested with regard to the perfection both. of the religious and of the priestly and apos-tolic life. We know from experience that only proven and well-chosen teachers can do'.all this. These men.mult not only be eminent in learning, prudence, and the discernment of spikits and well-equipped by their varied experience of men and affairs and by their other human gifts; but they must also be filled with the Holy Spirit and that sanctity which will make them an example of virtue before the eyes of the young men. In the whold matter of education, certainly, men are more atkracted by virtue and a good life than by words. In the accomplishment o~ this important task, ~:he first rule for the educator should be that which our Lord proclaimed in the Gospel: '!I am the good shepherd, the good shepherd gives his life for his sheep , . . I am the good shepherd, and I 'know Mine. and Mine know Me" (Jn. 10:11, 12, 14). St. Bernard expressed the same rule in these words: "Learn that you must be mothers of your subjects and not lords: strive rather to be loved than to be feared'~ (Sermon 23, On the Canticles). The Council of Trent likewise frequently exhorts that ecclesiastical superiors "must first be admonished to remember that they are shepherds and not tyrants and that they must so rule their subjects as not to domineer over them but to :love them as sons and younger brothers. They ought to endeavor by exhortation and admonition 93 PIUS XII Review for Religious to deter them from what is unlawful lest they be compelled to administer due punishment after faults have been committed. Yet if, through human frailty, their subjects have done wrong, t.hey must observe the precept of-the Apostle, and reprove, entreat, rebuke them in all kindness and patience. Benevolence towards those who need correction is certainly more efficacious than severity, exhortation is better than threats, and charity accomplishes more than force. If on account of the gravity of the offense, there is need of the rod, then rigor must be tem-pered with gentleness, justice with mercy, severity with clemency. Thus, without harshness, the discipline so salutary and necessary for public order may be maintained; those corrected may amend their ways; or, if they are unwilling to repent, others may be deterred from wrongdoing by the wholesome example of their punishment" (C.I.C.c. 2214, § 2; Conc. Trid. sess. XIII de ref. cap. 1). :~ Moreover, let all those who in any way are charged with the instruction of candidates remember that this kind of education and formation demands an organic progression in which all suitable resources and methods are used according to circum-stances. The whole ~nan must be considered under every aspect of his vocation so that he may be molded in every part into "a perfect man in Christ Jesus" (Col. 1:28). As to the means and techniques of training, manifestly those based on nature itself and those which are supplied by the human research of our day, if they are good, are not to be despised. In fact, they should be highly esteemed and wisely used. Nevertheless, no error could be worse, in the formation of such select subjects, than to rely solely or too much on natural means of this kind, and to esteem of less importance or to neglect in any waylthe instruments and resources of the supernatural order. Indeed, to attain religious and clerical perfection and an abundance of apostolic fruit, the supernatural means, such as the sacraments, prayer, mortification, and others of this kind ~ire not merely neces-sary but primary and altogether essential. 94 March, 1957 RELIGIOUS FORMATION While keeping this proper order of procedures and means, however, nothing should be neglected that conduces in any way to the perfection of body and mind, to the: cultivation .of all the natural virtues and to the vigorous formation of the whole man. Thus, the supernatural formation, whether religious or priestly,' will adhere to a very solid foundation of natural goodness and cultivated humanity. Surely, the way to Christ becomes easier and more secure for men, io the extent that there appears in the person of the priest "the goodness and kindness of God our Savior" (Tit. 3:4). Although the human and natural formation of.the religious clergy is to be highly esteemed by all, there must be no doubt that supernatural sanctification of the soul holds the first place in the total course of training. For if the admonition of the Apostle pertains to every-Christian: "This is the will of God, your sanctification" (I Thess. 4:3), how much more does it apply to a man who has not on!y been enriched by the priegt-hood but who has p-ublicly professed his intention of striving for evangelical perfection itself? Indeed, by his office he becomes an instrument for the sanctification of others. Upon his own sanctity, therefore, depend in no small measure the salvation of souls and the spread,of the kingdomof God. Let everyone, then, in those states devoted to the acquisition of evangelical perfection remember and frequently consider be-fore God that they do not sufficiently fulfill the duties of their profession if they avoid grave sins or, with God's help, even venial sins. It is not sufficient to carry out only materially the precepts of superiors nor even to observe the vows or the obligations by which one is bound in conscience. It is not sufficient, finally, to obey one's own constitutions, according, to which, as the Church commands in her sacred canons, "each and every religious, superior as well as subject, is bound to order his life . . . and thus tend to the perfection of his state" (C.I.C. c. 95.3). All this they must do with full spirit and a burning 95 Review fo~¯ Religious love, not just from necessity, but also "for conscience's sake" (Rom. 13:5). Assuredly, if they are to ascend the heights of sanctity and to show themselves living fountains of Christian charity to all, they must be on fire with unbounded love towards God and neighbor and be adorned with every virtue. IV. When provision has been made for the sanctification of ,the soul, care must also be given to the most exact intellectual and pastoral education of the religious clergy. In view of its importance and aware of Our supreme duty, We desire to set forth and to recommend somewhat more fully the principles concerning this education. Both solid instruction, 'which is complete in every respect, and intellectual formation are most necessary for such religious. This need is clearly and fully deduced from the threefold dignity, religious, priestly, and apostolic, which they assume in the Church of God. The principal duty of religious men is to seek God alone and, adhering to Him, to contemplate divine things and transmit them to others. ' They must remember, however, that they can in no wise rightly and fruitfully fulfill this holy duty and attain to sublime union with Christ, if they lack that copious, profound, and ever more perfect knowledge of God and His mysteries which is derived from sacred learning. It is the priestly dignity of one who is distinguished as an ambassador of the Lord of all knowledge that causes him with special appropriateness to be called "the salt of the earth" and "the lightof .the world" (Mt. 5:13i 14). This dignity demands a full and solid training especially in ecclesiastical subjects, those, namely, which can nourish and strengthen the spiritual life of the priest himself and keep him free from every error and unsound novelty. This learning, besides, will make him a faith-ful "steward of God's mysteries" (I Cor. 4:1, 2) and a perfect 96 March, 1957 RELIGIOUS FORMATION" man of God, "fully equipped for every good deed" (II Tim. 3:17). Each member of the states of perfection fulfills his apostolic office in the Church according to his own vocation--by pious sermons to the people, the Christian education of boys and young men, the administration of the sacraments and especially penance, missions to unbelievers, the direction of souls in the spiritual life, or by his very manner of daily living with the people. Such works, however, will not be able to bring forth rich and long-lasting fruit~ unless the ,religious themselves have thoroughly learned the sacred teaching and deeply penetrated it by continual study. In order to achieve this solid and complete intellectual education and formation, in accordance with the natural progress of the .young men and the orderly distribution of studies, the superiors should diligently see to it that, with respect to the knowledge of letters and other subjects, religious students "be at least equal to the lay students who are following the same courses. If this is secured, the minds of the students will b'e more exactly developed anda selection can be made mbre easily at the proper time" (Plus XII, iVlenti noslrae, 23 Sept. 1950). Likewise, the young men will have been prepared for a more profound understanding of their ecclesiastical studies and equip-ped with suitable aids. Only qualified and carefully selected teachers should in-struct in the fields of philosophy and theology, and everything enjoined by the sacred canons and the prescriptions of Our predecessors as well as Our own must be religiously observed: Due reverence for and absolute fidelity to the ecclesiastical magis-terium especially should be professed always and everywhere and should be instilled into the minds and hearts of the "students. They should learn that prudence and caution must always ac-company the diligent and commendable investigation of' new questions which arise with the progress of the times. The method; 97 P~us XII Review fo~" Religious teachings, and principles of the Angelic Doctor are to be retained and universally followed in the philosophic and theological edu-cation of the students. With Aquinas as guide and teacher, all ought to teach theology according tO a method at once positive and what is called scholastic. In the light of the authentic magisterium, the sources of divir~e tevelati, ot~ 'should be accurately scrutinized' with the help of all suitable aids. Then let the treasures of truth thus obtained be clearly developed and effectively defended. Since the dep'osit of revelation his been entrusted solely 'to the magisterium of the Church' for authentic interpretation, it must be faithfully ex-plained not in a merely human way, by private jhdgment, but according to the sense and mind of the Church. Let the teachers of Christian philosophy and theology know, therefore, that they do not teach in their own right and name but only in the name and by the authority of the Church and hence under her watch-ful direction. From her they have received the canonical mission to exercise their ministry. Wherefore, while due liberty of opin-ion is preserved in matters which are still disputed "they must remember well that the faculty to teach has not been given them in order that they may communicate to the students their own conjectures and opinions of their subject, but that they may im-part to them the approved doctrines of the Church (St. Pius X, Motu proprio Doctoris Angelici, 29 June, 1914). Moreover, let all, both teachers and students, keep in mind that ecclesiastical studies do not aim merely at intellectual train-ing but strive for an integral, solid formation, whether religious or priestly and apostolic. Hence, they are not to be directed simply to the passing of examinations but to the impressing of a form, so tospeak, on the minds of the students, a form which will never" slip away, and from which, when the occasion arises, the student can always draw light and strength for his own needs and the needs of others (Cf. Plus XII, Address to Students, 24 June, 1939). 98 March, 1957 RELIGIOUS FORMATION To this end, intellectual instruction must first of all be closely joined with zeal for prayer and the contemplation of divine things. It must be so complete that no part of the pre-scribed subjects is omitted. It must be coherent and in every respect so compact and sound that all the subjects harmonize and form one solid and properly ordered system. It must also be wisely adapted to refuting the errors and meeting the needs of our day. It should include modern findings and at the same time be very much in harmony with venerable tradition. Finally, it should be effectively directed to carrying out fruitfully pastoral duties of all kinds. As a result, future priests who are so in-structed will be able to set forth and defend sound doctrine easily and accurately in sermons and catechetical instructions to learned and unlearned "alike, to administer the sacraments pro-perly, to promote actively the good of souls, and to be useful to all in word and deed. Assuredly, all that We have thus far said about the spiritual and intellectual formation of students especially tends towards and is clearly necessary for the molding of truly apostolic men. In fact, if due sanctity, and learning are wanting in a priest, obviously everything is wanting. Nevertheless, in order to satisfy Our most serious duty, we must add here that, besides sanctity and adequate knowledge, the priest certainly needs a careful and thorough pastoral preparation to fulfill his apostolic min-istry properly. In this way true skill and readiness in under-taking the multiple works of the~ Christian apostolate will be pro-duced and developed. It is clear that, if diligent preparation in theory, in technique, and in the skill acquired by long practice is an ordinary pre-requisite for the exercise of any art, then the formation required for that which is deservedly called the art of arts must be equally diligent or rather more exacting and profound. 99 PIus XII Review fo~" Religious This pastoral formation of the students is to begin as they enter upon the course of studies; it is to be gradually perfected in the course of time; and the final consummation is to be achieved, when the theological course is completed, through a special period of probation. According to its special end, each institute ought to strive, in the first place, ,that those who are to. be the future ministers and apostles of Christ should be solidly and deeply imbued with and practiced in the apostolic spirit and virtues, according to the mind of Chriit Himself. They' should have an ardent and most ptire desire to promote the glory of God; an active and burning love for the Church, both in protecting her rights and in preserving and spreading her doctrine; an inflamed zeal for the salvation of souls; a supernatural prudence in word and deed united with evangel-ical simplicity; a humble abnegation of self and complete submis-sion to superiors; a firm confidence in God and an acute aware-ness of their own duties; manly ingenuity in undertaking works and constancy in pursuing them once begun; a great soul pre-pared to do and suffer anythingf even the hardest; finally a Christian amiability and human kindness which will draw all men. There is, besides, another end to be sought in imparting pastoral training, According to the level of progress in studies, the students should be instructed in all those subjects Which are especially conducive to forming in. every way the "good soldier of Christ Jesus" (II Tim. 2:3) and to equipping him with proper apostolic weapons. Hence, in addition to the philo-sophic and theological studies, which, should also be suitably ordered to pastoral activity, as We have said, it is very necessary that instruction be given to the future shepherds of the Lord's flock in psychology ,,and pedagogy, in didactic and catechetical methods, and in other social and pastoral matters, under experi-enced teachers and accor~ling to the norms of this Aposto!ic. See. This training should correspond to modern advances in these subjects and make the young men fit and ready for the mani-fold needs of the preserit-day apostolate. 100 March, 1957 RELIGIOUS FORMATION In order that this doctrinal education and formation in apostolic matters may be confirmed by use and practice it should be accompanied by exercises which are wisely adapted to the level of development and prudently regulated. We desire that these exercises be carried on, perfected, and continually strength-ened, after the promotion to the priesthood, in a special pro-bation under experienced men who will direct by their teaching, advice, and example while at .the same time the sacred studies are continued without interruption. Now that We have stated these general principles by which the work of education of the teachers and students are to be molded and directed, We decree and declare, after mature and thorough deliberation, with certain knowledge and with the fullness of. apostolic authority, that the general norms under each heading of serious import are~ to be observed by all to whom they pertain. We also grant to the Sacred Congregation for Religious the power to implement under Our authority .and by means of ordinances,, instructions, declarations, interpreta-tions, and other such documents the General Statutes already approved by Us. The same Sacred Congregation is authorized to take all the steps that will tend to the faithful observance of this constitution, the statutes, and their ordinances. Everything to the contrary notwithstanding, even though worthy of special mention. Given at Rome, from St. Peter's, the thirty-first day of the month of May, feast of the Blessed Virgin Mary, Queen of the World, in the year of Our L~rd one thousand nine hundred and fifty-six, the eighteenth of Our pontificate. PIUS XII POPE 101 Survey oJ: Roman Document:s THE PRESENT ARTICLE will survey the principal Roman documents which appeared in the ~!cla/l/~osto!;cae Se~/is (AAS) during the period June 1, 1956, to September 30, 1956, inclusive. It should be noted that in the course of the article all page references to AAS, unless otherwise noted, are to the 1956 AAS (volume 48). During the four month period of this survey, only one document was published in AAS that directly referred to religious life. This document was an instruction of the Sacred Congrega-tion of Religious, issued on March 25, 1956 (AAS, pp. 512- 526). The instruction deals with.the cloister of those religious women who in strict canonical .terminology are called nuns. Henceforth, the document states, all nuns, even those who, by temporary exception, pronounce only simple vows, must accept and retain either major or minor papal cloister if they wish to retain the name and canonical status of nuns. Since Father Gallen in the January, 1957, issue of I~EVlI~W FOI~ RELIGIOUS (pp. 36-56) has adequately covered the detailed legislation on major and minor cloister that is contained in the instruction, there is no need to include a summary of the document in the present article. The Church and the Life of Worship Since religious by vow and by name have a special relation' to that virtue of religion which is concerned with the worship due the Divine Majesty, it is fitting that the next documents to be considered should be those which deal with public or pri-vate worship and with the Church in which the life of worship should be exercised. 102 ROMAN DOCUMENTS On September 2, 1956 (AAS, pp. 622-627), the Holy Father delivered a radio message to the city of Cologne, Germany, where German Catholics had gathered to attend the Eighty-seventh Congress. of German Catholics. Taking as his own the general theme of the Congress "A sign to the nations," the Pontiff proceeded to outline three ways in which the Church today is clearly and truly a sign to the nations of the world. The first way in which the Church is such a sign derives from the consid-eration that, ~although erroneous ideologies of the last century have attempted to introduce themselves into the Church, still she has always kept safe and intact all the dogmatic truths confided to her by her divine Founder, Christ our Lord. The Church's social teaching, both" in the past and in the present, is the second reason why the Church today continues tO be a sign to the nations. The third reason why today's Church continues to fulfill the prophecy of Isaias is to be found in the persecutions which the Church has undergone in recent years, for these persecutions show clearly that the Mystical Body which is the Church i~ even now participating in the wounds of Christ her Spouse. The public worship of the Church is in some way touched upon by the Holy Father in two documents from the period surveyed in this article. The first of these documents gives the text of the radio address delivered by Pius XII on May 6, 1956 (AAS, pp. 475-480), to the Fifteenth National Eucharistic Con-gress of Italy. The speech, though brief, gives a moving descrip-tion of the need that the modern world, splintered and divided by hatreds, has for the Eucharist which is the sacrament of unity and the bond of charity. The second document which is concerned with the life of worship also concerns the sacrament of the Eucharist, being a message sent on June 25, 1956 (AAS, p.p. 578-579), by the Holy Father to the. Sixteentl~ National Eucharistic Congress of France. The Vicar of Christ has only piaise for the priests and 103 Review for Religious faithful of France because of their desire for a living celebration of the liturgy of the Church; but he also reminds them that to this must be joined an intelligent and fervent devotion to Christ present in the tabernacles of their churches. In the life of the priest especially, continues the Pontiff, nothing can replace long and quiet prayer before the Blessed Sacrament. During the four months surveyed in this article the Holy Father has also contributed to the private worship and devotions of Catholics by personally composing and publishing three prayers enriched with partial indulgences (AAS, pp. 592-59J; 641-642). The first prayer is a prayer to be said l~y priests for the sanc-tification of priests. The second prayer is for the same inten-tion but to be recited, by the faithful. The third prayer is one composed in honor of our Lady, the Mother of Orphans. A partial indulgence of a thousand days is granted each time any of these prayers is recited; as is clear fi'om the nature of the first prayer, the indulgence attached to it can be gained only by priests. Medicine and Morality On May 8, 1956 (AAS, pp. 454-459), the Holy. Father addressed a group of coronary specialists. The body of the Pope's allocution consisted of a remarkable survey of the'history of recent heart research and manifests a surprising grasp of contemporary problems and difficulties in the treatment of heart diseases. The introductory and concluding "paragraphs of the allocution are also noteworthy for the Christian conception of care for the sick which they suppose and imply. At the beginning of his allocution the Holy Father recalls that bodily pain affects the entire man even to the deepest recesses of his moral being; for it compels a man to. reconsider his pur-pose in life, his attitude .towards God and neighbor, and the meaning of his existence on thik earth. Hence medical science, if it wishes to be truly humane, should also treat the entire man. It is here, continues the Pontiff, that medicine 'experiences its 104 March, 1957 ROMAN DOCUMENTS own weakness, for it has .neither the authority nor the power to enter the realm of the human conscience. Medical science then must seek elsewhere that further aid which will extend and com-plete the work of medicine itself. At the conclusion of this same allocution Plus XII has oc-casion to mention the necessity of stressing the prevention of heart disease by the observance of those laws of hygiene which are dictated by the very structure and functioning of the human body.~ These laws of hygiene, he adds, should occasion the re-membrance of a higher disciplinemthat of the human spirit-- which consists in large part in a humble submission to the world as God has created it and to human society with the laws that govern it. Moreover, the recognition of God's sovereignty and of His merciful interventions in the history of mankind will lead to the acceptance" of pain and even of death; death, indeed, will lead man to the presence of God and it is this ultimate conclu-sion of the drama of human life that enables the sick to accept pain and that gives to those who care for the sick a real understanding and an efficacious program of aid. A few days after the preceding address, the Holy Father spoke to another group of medical men, this time eye specialists (AAS, pp. 459-467). The main topic of the allocution centered around the moral issues involved in the transplantation of a cornea "from a dead human body to a living person. Before considering this matter, however, the Holy Father took time to clarify certain other points which deserve mention here. The first point is concerned with the morality of hetero-grafts, that is, with the transfer of tissue or organs from animals to men. The morality of such transplants, says the Pope, must be determined by considering what tissue or organ is involved in the transfer. To transfer animal sex glands to a human body is immoral while the transfer of an animal cornea to a human eye causes no moral difficulty, providing the transfer is bio-logically possible and warranted. 105 R. ~F. SMITH Review for Religious The Pontiff then considers an argument sometimes used to justify the removal of the organs required in transplantations from one human person to another. The .argument, remarks the Holy Father, states that just as in the case of a single human being it is permissible in cases of necessity to sacrifice a particular organ for the good of that individual's organism considered as a whole, io also it should be equally permissible to sacrifice a member or an organ of an individual for the sake of that other organism or totality, "humanity," which is present in the person of a suffering patient. Pius XII, however, is quick to point out that this argument neglects the essential difference that exists between a physical organism and a moral one.1 In the physical organism of an indi-vidual human being, the members or-parts are so absorbed into that organism that they possess no independent existence and have no end other than that of the total organism. On the con-trary, in a moral organism such as humanity individual human beings are but ~unctional parts of that organism, which, there-fore, can make demands of them only on the level o~ action. As far as physical existence is concerned, individual human beings are in no way dependent on each other or on humanity. Humanity then has no right to make demands on individuals in the realm of physical existence. Hence, concludes the Holy Father, "humanity" can not demand the excision of an organ of an individual human, being, for such a demand moves principally in the realm of physical existence. The Vicar of Christ turns now to a consideration of the main theme of the allocution: the morality of the transfer of a cornea from a dead human body to the eye of a living person. Morally speaking, states the Holy Father, there is no objection 1The matter of physical and moral organisms has been considered by the Holy Father previously. Not all theologians have agreed in the interpretation of the Pope's teaching; for an introduction to the entire question, see Gerald Kel|y, S.J,, ~'Pope Pius XII and the Principle of Totality," T/~eological Studies, 16 (1955) 373-96, and "The Morality olc Mutilation: Towards a Revision of the Treatise," Theological Studie~, 17 (1956) 322-44. 106 March, 2957 ROMAN DOCUMENTS to such operations considered in themselves. On the one hand, such operations correct a defect in the patient; on the other hand, such operations do not violate any property riglits of the dead body, for a corpse is not the subject of rights. This last statement does not mean, he continues, that there are no obligations whatsoever with regard to the corpses of human beings. On the contrary, it is morally erroneous to regard a human corpse as on exactly the same level as the dead body of an animal. There remains in a human corpse, something of the dignity that belonged to it as an essential part of a human person; it was made to the "image and likeness of God"; to it in a cer-tain sense can be applied the words of the Apostle (I Cor. 6: 19) : "Know you not that your members are the temples of the Holy Ghost, who is in you?"; and finally this dead body is destined for resurrection and eternal life. None of this, adds the Holy Father, prevents the use of human corpses for legitimate medical study and research. The removal of the cornea from a human corpse, the Roman Pontiff goes on to say, can become illicit if it involves a violation of the. rights and feelings of the parties who are re-sponsible for the body. Neither would it be equitable that only the bodies of poor patients in public clinics and hospitals should be destined for such medical and surgical use. The Pope concludes by pointing out that public authority must likewise show respect and ~onsideratidn for human corpses. Moreover, the rights of the next of kin should be honored by public authority, though in cases where there is suspicion of death from criminal cause or where danger to public health is involved it may be necessary to give human corpses into the charge of public authority. Membdrs of the Second World Congress on Fertility and Sterility were addressed by the Holy Father on May 19, 1956 (AAS, pp. 467-474). His Holiness points out that the work of the Congress with regard to the causes and cure of involuntary 107 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious conjugal sterility is most important. Such sterility, he says, is a matter not only of social and economic concern, but it also in-volves s1~ritual and ethical values. It is eminently human that man and wife should see in their child a full and complete expres-sion of their mutual love and surrender. For this reason invol-untary sterility can be a serious danger to the stabil!ty of their union. Moreover, marriage unites two persons in a common march to.wards an ideal: the achievement of those transcendent values which the Christian revelation proposes in all their gran-deur. The married couple pursue this ideal by. consecrating themselves to the attainment of the primary end of marriage, the generation and education .oi: children. Fatherhood and motherhood, then, constitute the end to which all other aspects of n~arried life are subordinate. As the Church has always taught, the common, external life of man and wife, their personal enrichment eve~ intellectually and spiritually, and the spiritual profundities of their married love have all been placed by the Creator at the service of posterity. The Church, moreover, has steadfastly avoided the mentality which separates in the act of generation the biological activity from the personal relationship of the married couple. On the contrary, the biological conditions of generation must be placed in the unity of the human act of conjugal union which involves organic functions, sensible emotions, and the animating spiritual and disinterested love. These difl:erent aspects, says the Holy Father, may never be separated to the point of positively excluding either the pro. creative intention or the conjugal relationship. The relation-ship which unites the parents to their child°is rooted, it is true, on the organic level; but its deepest roots are to be found in the deliberate choice of the parents whose will to give themselves to each other finds its true flowering in the being which they bring into .the world. Only such a consecration could guarantee that the education of the children would be carefully, courageously, 108 March, 1957 ROMAN DOCUMENTS and patiently provided for. Human fecundity, then, over and beyond the physical level, reveals essential moral aspects which it is necessary to consider even when treating that fecundity from a medical viewpoint. These moral aspects, the .Holy Father warns, must always be kept in view when methods of artificial insemination are con-sidered. Indeed, if by artificial insemination is meant fecunda-tion that is achieved entirely apart from that human act that is naturally the cause of human conception, then such artificial insemination must be completely avoided. Such insemination exceeds the limits of the marriage contract which gives the couple the right to exercise their sexual powers only through the natural accomplishment of the marriage act. Nor can such artificial fecundation be justified by reason of the intended offspring; for the matrimonial contract is not concerned with such intended off-spring, but with the natural acts which are destined for the engendering of new life. Moreover, the Holy Father's audience was reminded, any method of procuring human semen by direct, voluntary, and solitary exercise of the procreative faculty is like-wise forbidden; such actions, being of their very nature illicit, may never be permitted in any circumstances. The Vicar of Christ concludes his a11ocution with words that will have special meaning for all religious. He recalls to his listeners' minds a fecundity far higher than that of natural human fecundity. This higher fecundiCy is that of lives entirely consecrated to God and to neighbor; this fecundity involves the entire renouncement of family life, not indeed from a fear of life and its struggles, but from a realization of the destiny of man and of that universal love which no carnal affection is able to ¯ restrict. This, says the Holy Father, is the most sublime and the most enviable fecundity possible to a human being, for it transcends the bio.logical level to enter that of the spirit. As a conclusion to this sect.ion, it may be noted that on June 3, 1956 (AAS, pp. 498-499), the Holy Father gave a short 109 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious address on the nature and purpose of Canon Law in the life of the Church. Finally, the decisions of the Rota for the year 1955 may be found in AAS, pages 375-436. Miscellaneous Topics Several Roman documents between June 1 and September 30 were concerned with the saints of the Church. In two radio addresses, one to Rouen, France, the other to Loyola, Spain, the Holy Father gave clear proof that his oratorical powers are unabated. In the address to Rouen, the Pope, after giving a remarkable analysis of the Christian ideas and spirituality that shine forth in the very structure of cathedrals like that of Rouen, delivered an inspiring panegyric of St. Joan of Arc, praising her fidelity to her vocation, her consecration to an ideal, and the generosity of her total sacrifice. In the address to Loyola, the Holy Father (AAS, pp. 617-622) gave a spiritual profile of St. Ignatius Loyola, saying that the saint was characterized by the purest love of God which flowed over into an unconditional service of Christ manifested by intense love of the Church, the Spouse of Christ, and by total obedience to the Roman Pontiff, the Vicar of Christ on earth. The Sacred Congregation of Rites published several docu-ments dealing with one or other phase of the process that leads to the canonization of saints. On May 22, ~956, the Congrega-tion ?fficially acknowledged the two miracles necessary for the beatification of Pope Innocent XI (AAS, pp. 531-533). The same congregation also approved on February 19, 1956, and May 22, 1956 (AAS, pp. 584-586; 634-637), the introductioa of the causes of the following servants of God; Joseph Mary Cassant (1879-1903); Theodora Guerin (1798-1856); and Vic-toria Rasoamana?ivo ( 1848-1894). Next to be noted are documents that pertain to the intel-lectual life of the Church. By, an apostolic letter dated June 5, 1956 (AAS, pp. 493-496), the Holy Father established new 110 March, 1957 ROMAN DOCUMENTS statutes for the Pontifical Roman Academy of Theology; the most important change is that the Academy besides its forty constitutive members may now have corresponding members throughout the world, the number of which is not limited. The Sacred Congregation of Seminaries and Universities (AAS~ 589- 590; 637-638) gave to the Institute of Social' Sciences of the Gregorian Univ~ersity, Rome, and to the similar institute of the Angelicum, also in Rome, the perpetual r!ght~ to grant academic degrees. The same Congregation, (AAS, pp. 638-639) gave the theological fa~.ulty of the Marianum the perpetual right to grant academic degrees up to and including the doctorate in sacred theology. One epistle and three addresses of the Holy Father deserve at least a passing word. On June 29, 1956 (AAS, pp. 549-554), His Holiness sent an apostolic epistle to Cardinals Mindszenty, Stepinac, and Wyszynski. This poignant epistle encourages the three cardinals and the faithful entrusted to them to show cour-age in the face of their difficulties and to exercise their zeal by letting the light of Christ shine before men. On May 6, 1956 ('AAS, pp. 449-453), Pius XII addressed the members ot: the Swiss guard on the occasion of the four hundred and fiftieth anniversary of their being founded; the Pope took the occasion to praise their loyalty to the Holy See. On June 3, 1956 (AAS, pp. 499-503), the Pontiff addressed an audience composed of women, engaged in domestic service "in Rome, urging them to rejoice in the silent martyrdom of their daily life and to take a holy pride in their life of service and obedience, since their obedience is not to men but to God who commands in all legitimate authority. On July 1, 1956 (AAS, pp. 573-577), the Vicar of Christ spoke to Italian members of the third order of St. Francis, reminding them .that they should be a school of genuine Franciscan spiritua.lity with a Franciscan doctrine of God, a Franciscan way of contemplating Christ, and a Franciscan way of imitating Christ. 111 QUESTIONS AND .ANSWERS Review for Religious Finally, it should be noted that on June 27; 1956 (AAS, p. 508), the Holy Office placed on the Index of Forbidden Books the two following titles by Simone de Beauvoir: Le deux-ieme sexe (2 vol.) and Les manJarins. (Both works have been translated into English under the titles: The Second Sex and The Mandarins.) This concludes the present survey of Roman documents which appeared in AAS between June 1, 1956, and September 30, 1956. The following article will summarize the documents which have appeared in the remaining iisues of the 1956 AAS. ( ues!: ons and Answers [The following answers are given by Father Joseph F. Gallen, S.J., professor of canon law at Woodstock College, Woodstock, Maryland.] --3-- What can be done to avoid the highly varying practices and in-terpretations of local superiors? It is not reasonable to expect all local superiors to be perfectly the same in these matters. The higher superior can avoid excessive variation by his directions, especially on the occasion of.the canonical visitation, and by organizing regular meetings of local superiors. Such meetings can produce many other profitable effects, for example, the assistance of inexperienced superiors, the imparting of new ideas, energy, and vitality, and the avoidance of the perpetuation of the same problems. Our constitutions state simply: ~The master of novices and his assistant are appointed for three years.'~ May they be reappointed repeatedl)~ and without limit? Both may be reappointed immediately and without any limit in the number of reappointments, since the constitutions do not forbid their immediate and indefinite reappointment. 112 March, 1957 QUESTIONS AND fl~NSWERS --5m May sisters drive cars? Canon law does not forbid sisters to drive cars. His Holiness, Pope Pius XII, has given the answer with regard to the constitutions: "The constitutions also, taken in both their letter and spirit, facilitate and procure for the sister everything that she needs and should do in ourday to be a good teacher and educator. That is evident in the purely mechanical aspect. For example, today in several countries sistdrs also, ih a becoming manner, ride bicycles when this is demanded by their work. In the beginning this was something completely new, but it was not contrary to the Rule." (REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, Janu-ary, 1955, 10.) If riding a bicycle, a common method of transporta-tion in Europe, is not incompatible with the constitutions, neither is driving a car. It is presumed that the sister is a competent driver and that, her headdress permits unrestricted lateral vision. A sister driver would often avoid waste of time by the community, prevent externs from learning private community matters, and would likewise exclude what is now a quite frequent imposition on seculars. Do renewals of temporary vows have to be received? Reception is the act by which the legitimate superior according to the constitutions, either personally or through a delegate, accepts the religious profession in the name of the Church and of the particular institute. In virtue of c. 572, §~ 1, 6°, reception is required for the validity of any religious profession, solemn or simple, whether the simple profession is first temporary, a renewal, prolongation, or final perpetual. A juridical renewal is a new profession of vows that have already expired or are soon to expire. It is to be most carefully distinguished from a mere devotional renewal, whose purpose is merely to renew one's fidelity and fervor in the observance of the vows. The confusing of the two can cause an invalid profession, especially by the lack ~f legitimate reception. A juridical renewal is a new religious profession and demands all the requisites of a religious profession. If the first profession was made for a year on August 15, 1956, it is evident that the renewal On August 15, 1957, is just as much a religious profession as the first profession. Therefore, juridical renewals must be legitimately received; if not so received, they are clearly invalid. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, May 1949, 131-32. 113 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Review fo~ Religious I am a secretary general. Will. you please explain the office of procurator general and the approved manner of recurring to the Holy See? Individual religious men and women have the right of' uncensored correspondenc.e with the Holy See (c.611) and may therefore write dffectly and in the vernacular to the Roman congregations, tribunals, and offices to communicate information, accusations, and petitions. This right follows also from the immediate jurisdiction of the Roman Pontiff over all the faithful (c. 218) a~d. from the fact that he is the supreme superior of all religious (c. 499, § 1). The counsel of prudence previously given in the REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS iS also ap-plicable here: "Religious should be instructed not to be quick to write to the Holy See, the cardinal protector, the apostolic delegate, or the local ordinary, or his delegate. Such letters demand a serious matter that cannot be resolved by recourse to one's owfi religious superiors. External authorities and dignitaries should not be annoyed by needless and extraneous correspondence; and domestic grievances, especially if purely personal or subjective, are to be confined by the family walls." (March, 1956, 100-101.) Matters appertaining to the forum of conscience and especially to the sacramental forum are sent directly to the Sacred Penitentiary; if forwarded through a procurator general or other agent, they should be enclosed in a sealed envelope. The preceding principle in practice will apply almost solely t,o priests. Outside of the cases given above, the manner of recurring to the Holy See is as follows: 1. In pontifical institutes of men. Every pontifical institute of men, whether clerical or lay, is obliged to ha've a procurator general (c. 517), who handles the affairs of his own institute, its provinces, houses, and individual members with the Holy See. The procurator general is obliged to reside in Rome; but when the institute i~ small and has little business with the Holy See, the Sacred Congregation of Religious will permit the procurator to reside elsewhere or that the affairs be fiandled by the procurator of another institute or by another agent,, even secular, residing in Rome. 2. Monasteries of nuns subject to regulars. The business of these monasteries with the Holy See is ordinarily handled by the procurator general of the same order of men. This is also done with sufficient frequency by monasteries that are not in fact subject to regulars and 114 March, 1957 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS sometimes also by third orders of men and women, e. g., by Fran-ciscan congregations of brothers or sisters. 3. Other religious institutes, e. g., diocesan congregations of men and pontifical or diocesan congregations of women. These generally recur to the Holy See through their local ordinary. Such petitions will practically always be first submitted to the superior general, and the particular ordinary will therefore be of the diocese of the resi-dence of the superior, general. Occasionally petitions are forwarded through the local ordinary of a pro'vincial or of a particular house. Pontifical institutes may recur through their cardinal protector. All of these institutes are also permitted to recur through an approved agent in Rome or through an ecclesiastic in Rome known to the Roman Curia. It is not completely unknown for a religious institute of women having a house in Rome to expedite at least some of its affairs with the Holy See through one of its own sisters. Furthermore, religious superioresses may send petitions directly and in the ver-nacular to the Holy See when this is required by secrecy or other circumstances of the particular case. The preferred language in communications to the Holy See is Latin, but Italian or French may be employed. Other languages, especially German, English, Spanish, and Portuguese, are tolerated; but their use, unless the communication is brief and of little im-portance, can readily cause delay. The communication should state the facts of the case and the petition briefly and clearly. All reasons for the petition are to be given with equal clarity and brevity. The same principle is to be followed in a petition to a local ordinary or a diocesan chancery. The reply of the Holy See is called a rescript. It will ordinarily b~ in Latin. A lay institute should secure an accurate and complete translation and should also strive to obtain at least a copy of the original. Questions may later arise as to the wording or sense of the rescript, and it is always unsatisfactory in such circumstances to work with anything but the original. It is evident that both the original and the translation should be carefull~ preserved in the files of a higher superior. The manner of designation of the procurator general is left to the constitutions. He is more frequently elected in the general chapter, but in some institutes he is appointed by the superior general. If the procurator general is given a determined duration of office by the constitutions, .he may not be licitly removed before the expiration 115 ~UESTIONS AND ~NSWE~S Review for Religious of that time without consulting the Holy See. If he is removable at any time, such consultation is not prescribed. The precedence and ex officio membership of the procurator general in the general chapter. depend on the particular constitutions. Is it permissible to give more suffrages to some deceased religious? The prescribed suffrages must be equal for all professed and novices, whether the professed are of solemn or simple vows, per-. petual or temporary (cc. 567, § 1; 578, 1°). Postulants are not included in the prescribed suffrages unless this is expressly stated in the constitutions. Such a statement is not found in the constitutions of lay institutes. The higher superior may command or exhort the members of the institute to give some suffrages to a deceased postu-lant. Canon law forbids that less suffrages be given to a professed of temporary vows or a novice precisely because one is such a pro-fessed or a novice. The wording of the canons does not forbid the giving of less suffrages to a lay brother than to a priest or teaching brother, to a lay sister than to a choir sister. However, this is opposed . to the spirit of the canons and is not likely to be approved by the Holy See. It is also not" found in the practice of the Holy See in th~ approval of constitutions. Neither the letter nor the spirit of the canons forbids the granting of greater suffrages to present or past superiors, and this is often found in constitutions of lay institutes approved by the Holy See. Additional suffrages are frequently given in the whole institute to the superior general, but in some constitutions only when he dies in office. This is also true of the general officials, but rarely when they die out of office. The same norm is also verified in the case of a provincial in his own province, particularly if he dies in office. This norm is extended only very infrequently to provincial officials, and only most rarely when they die out of office. A local superior is very frequently given added suffrages in his own house, but very rarely when he dies out of office. --9-- What is the obligation df religious to go to confession weekly? Can. 595, § 1, 3° reads: "Superiors must take care that all religious approach the sacrament of penance at least o~ce a week." I16 March, 1957 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS The canon places no obligation on religious to confess at least once a week. The obligation of the canon extends on!y to superiors, who must make it possible for their subjects to confess at least once a week and exercise prudent vigilance that they do so. The canon also gives superiors the right of inquiring wheth'er their subj~ects so fre-quent the sacrament of penance, and the subjects are Obliged to answer truthfully. The superior has the right likewise of inquiring whether the subject, goes to the designated confessors but may not inquire about either the fact of approach to or the person of the occasional confessor. It is evident that this right of vigilance and inquiry is to be used prudently in such a delicate matter. When the constitutions merely repeat the code in this matter, there is no obligation of weekly confession even from the constitutions. However, the code presupposes that such an obligation exists at least from custom. 'Almost universally the constitutions oblige religious to confess at least once a week. Since the constitutions and customs do not oblige under sin, the omission of the weekly confession will not be a sin in itself and a reasonable cause will justify its omission. The omission of confession for a pr01onged period of time, except in special cases (e.g., scrupulosity), is not in accord with the supposition of the canon or the sanctity of the religious state. Is special jurisdiction postu.lants? required for the confessions of female The necess.ity of special jurisdiction extends only to professed religious women and novices, not to postulants, who are absolved in virtue of the same jurisdiction as secular women (c. 876, § 1). Furthermore, the canons on the confessors of religious women (520- 527) apply to all religious women, professed or novices, of all religious institutes, whether orders or congregations, as also to all societies of women living in common without public vows. They do not apply to postulants. There are no special laws in the code on the confes-sions of postulants. In practice the postulants go to the confessors of the novices. A confessor of a group of professed religious women or novices and postulants must possess special jurisdict!on for religious women and the usual jurisdiction for the confessions of women. 117 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Why are religious obliged to go to the extraordinary confessor at least to receive his blessing? Religious are not obliged to go to confession to the extraordinary but they are obliged to go to him at least to receive his blessing. This obligation extends to professed religious women and novices (cc. 521, § 1; 566, § 1) and to novices in any institute of men, (c. 566, § 2, 4°) but not to professed religious men (c. 528) nor to any postulants. The obligation of receiving at least the blessing of the extraordinary is imposed lest any who should go to him be deterred from doing so by human respect. May a religious be the executor of the will of a parent? In virtue of c. 592, all professed religious, clerical or lay, men or women, are held to the obligations imposed on clerics in cc. 124-142, except when the nature of the matter or the context manifests that the particular canon applies only to clerics. Can. 679, § .1, applies exactly the same principle to the members of societies living in com-mon without public vows. Novices and postulants, unless they have already received first tonsure, are not subject to these obligations. Can. 139, § 3, forbids clerics, without the permission of their own ordinary, to undertake the administration of property that belongs to lay persons. Therefore, clerics and consequently professed religious also are forbidden to be guardians of orphans or widows or to be the administrators of executors of wills of lay people. To do so, religious must have the permission of their higher superior if their institute is clerical and exempt, or of the local ordinary in the case of all other religious. 118 ook Reviews [Material for this department should be sent to Book Review Editor, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, West Baden College, West. Baden Springs, Indiana.] THE TWO-EDGED SWORD. An interpretation of the Old Testa. ment. By John L. McKenzie, S.J. Pp. 317. The Bruce Publishing Company, Milwaukee 1. 1956. $4.50. We agree absolutely with. the opening words of the Catholic Biblical Quarterly review of The Two-Edged Sword: "This is. a suprendely important book.". Reading The Two-Edged .Sword is an experience ,which no priest nor religious should deny himself. In recent' years study of the Bible has become an exact science, one in which linguistic, archaeological, and historical discoveries in the Near East have illuminated nearly every portion of the Old Testa-ment. This modern acquaintance with the past has led to intensely specialized work on the Bible, work that is usually highly technical. And it has been said that this. vast new area of study has been scien-tifically profitable but spiritually barren. The latter charge cannot be made by anyone who reads The Two-Edged Sword. It is true that isolated problems and individual sections of the Old Testament do not lack plentiful technical discussions. Yet the scholar '~lone is able to assemble the dissected parts. While such dismantling is necessary, the Old Testament is a literary whole and should be er~countered as such. Father McKenzie arranges for just such an encounter in presenting the significance of the Old Testament viewed in the light of the new learning. Few authors in any language have ventured so comprehensive an interpretation of the Old Testa-merit. Both simple and profound, The Two-Edged Sword is the work of an artist with literary, linguistic, scientific, and, above all, deep psychological and spiritual insight, generated, no doubt, by years.of contact with God's word. Father McKenzie's method is orderly with-out being cramped or overly schematic. Beginning with the concept of sacred books, the author points out the significance of the fact that God could and 'did speak to man. Such revelation, in its con-crete historical setting, formed the Hebrew idea of Yahweh,. of the history and origin of the world, of man, and of the nations. The 119 Book REVIEWS Review for Religious hope of the future, the mystery of iniquity, life, death, prayermthese are some of the topics of the one scientifically conceived and artistically developed whole. And this whole is concluded with a chapter pointing out that while the Old Te.stament is significant in itself, it is vital in understanding the New Testament and its central figure, the In-carnate Word. Father McKenzie has written The Two-Edged Sword for the general reader, the man to whom God speaks through the inspired authors and who needs a guide through Hebrew thought patterns, Hebrew beliefs, and Hebrew history. Since God "wrote through the ancient Hebrew," the author suggests, "the more we know of their habits of mind and speech, the better we shall apprehend the full meaning of the word of God." And the word of God, today, yester-day, and tomorrow, cannot be neglected without peril. The Two-Edged Sword is a positive contribution to solid devotion, devotion based on the word of God in all its implications. The book is as modern as the recent Suez crisis, the problems of Hungarian revolt and Red terror. The reader will find nothing of the fustian and antiquated, but will sense an approach which is modern and which is anchored to the world of the past ~in which men' felt they could reach out and touch God." The author shows a deep reverence for the Bible, a reverence which the reader himself will experience because Father 'McKenzie articulates in precise and delicate language his own feelings. While the book is devotional, modern, and reverently done, Father McKenzie skillfully turns science to the cause of spiritual significance without in any way demeaning science. Father McKenzie's style, the reader will observe, is characterized by economy, elegance, and exactness--qualities which seem to flow from his intense personal experience of life as seen in the light of the Old Testament, from years of careful study, and from the discipline of scholarly writi'ng. There is a large enlightenment, a broadness of outlook present on every page of The Two-Edged Sword. For these reasons, The Two-Edged Sword, the only work of its kind in English, meets the test of a great book: it yields new insights with each reading. The only. satisfying and logical reaction to a supremely important work is to read it.--P. JOSEPH CAHILL, S.J. 120 1957 BOOK REVIEWS STEPHEN T. BADIN, PRIEST IN THE WILDERNESS. By J. Herman Schauinger. Pp. 317. The Bruce Publishing Company, Milwaukee 1. -1956. $7.50. Historian Schauinger, whose two previous volumes were note-worthy for their diligent, constructive scholarship, has performed a ¯ genuine service for American Catholics in the work here under con-sideration. His well-documented study of the forthright Badin is a distinct step toward the proper appreciation of a character already held in high esteem though not as thoroughly understood as he deserves. A certain amount of studious (if not studied) controversy sur-rounds Father Badin, as is always the case with strong, virile char-acters. It is the happy task of the author to champion the priestly pioneer by bringing to light the very sources of misunderstanding. Badin emerges from the investigation convincingly unscathed, a man of gigantic but not overdrawn proportions facing very real problems. In a word, Badin is depicted as truly worthy of the honor that was 'his, both as the first priest ordained in the United States and as a venerated missionary still marvelously active in his declining years. Tracing the early development of American Catholicism through the eyes of the sacerdotal frontiersman, the writer enables his audience keenly to perceive numerous pastoral problems and the way in which the missionary must face them. Native ingenuity, a priestly educa-tion continued through life under tremendous handicaps, advice from far distant theologians--all play a part in the picture. The connec-tion between such problems and controversy surrounding Badin is obvious enough to the student of American history. But the religious reader cannot avoid the reflection that Badin could not have faced the challenge so well and for so l~ng a time unless he drew down tremendous graces by a sincerely zealous life and by continual prayer. If Badin faced problems, social, moral, canonical, and civil in character, he also faced the prejudice, intolerance, and bigotry of the incredibly misinformed and the violently emotional irreligionists of his day. H~ faced this latter group quite' positively by making the Catholic position clear in sermons, in conversation, in letters, and in the press. He sustained, moreover, those disagreements which unfortunately arise between people who are. trying to work for a common cause when the proper course of action is not clear. And the import of 121 BOOK REVIEWS Review for Religious the present .volume is that he faced such conflicts reasonably, if firmly. There is no wonder that some little traces of misunderstanding still surround him in death. It is, however, a praiseworthy thing that his modern apologist has seen fit to put these elements into proper perspective. It must be noted, nonetheless, that historical research regarding Badin, so remarkably and painstakingly furthered by the. au.thor, has not completely solved certain mysteries. Among these are the reason for Badin's sojourn in Europe and an ad.equate explanation of his temporary life as a Dominican novice. The author's conjectures on these two points seem possibly to go beyond the bounds of scholarly limitations superbly maintained in the work as a whole. The book will unquestionably repay the careful study of the serious historian as well as the more cursory reading of the mature religious. Its narrative for the most part flows smoothly and its message is pertinent not only as satisfying an historial need but also as an incentive to the apostolic spirit of the discerning reader. --MATTHEW E. CREIGHTON, S.J. CONTEMPORARY CHURCH ART. Text by Anton Henze and Theodor Filthaut. Translated from the German by Cecily Hastings. Edited with a preface by Maurice Lavanoux. 64 pages of text, 125 full page photographs of American and European churches, statues, vestments, etc. Sheed and Ward, New York. 1956. $7.50. "Art reflects the thinking of the times," so the age-old adage aptly describes the historical development and progress of man's theoretical and practical application toward intellectual and structural beauty, form, and function. But there are two trends stemming from this adage that indicate different directions of analysis. The one considers the general crass materialism of today's thought materialized in the plain, low, sprawling, accent-on-the-materials-used type of art and architecture; the second is a sincere and earnest effort to unite and utilize man's noblest religious aspirations in an entirely new approach (as opposed to historicism), seeking worshipful entrance and devotional proximity via the liturgy to the altar of God: Introibo ad altare Dei. It is this "renewal of the creative manifestations of our time for the greater glory of God" that typifies Contemporary Church Art and recommends itself warmly to the layman as well as the priest, religious, artist, and teacher in the matter of church art. 122 March, 1~57 ~00K ANNOUI~CEMENT~ In "The Potentialities 6f Modern Church Art and Its Position in History" and "Church Art and the Liturgy" (two essays comprising the major part of the text), the authors, Anton Henze and Theodor Filthaut respectively, elaborate this theme. They define the nature and purpose of church art, sketch its history, analyze its anomalies in present times, and discuss the relationship between society and the Church and its imagery in the twentieth century. Using as their points of reference the ll~lediator Dei of Pope Pius XII and the Instructio de arte sacra of the Supreme Congregation of the Holy Office, the authors set out intelligently by positive instruction to check and correct the sterile sway of pure design and sentimental trash ("the enemy of faith") and encourage action to work for a renewal of "that artistic climate which must be a prelude to a sane outlook in matters of religious art." Particularly recommended are the brilliant, lucid plates which make up the greater part of the book, though it is a shade ~hy this side of fulfillment in that there are no plates in color. But there is an element of freshness in the variety of the selections of type and top-ography, including an ample representation .of American examples that is almost electrifying. These pictures truly speak a thousand words, at once removing stubborn obstacles of ignorance and prejudice and creating an eager desire for a v.igorous renewal of the creative manifestations of our time--"to make that renewal possible for the greater glory of God." Contemporary Church Art discloses the locus of contemporary church art.--l'~o\\',-~.RD .l.X'IAND

Issue 5.5 of the Review for Religious, 1946. ; Revxew for Religxous ,, SEPTEMBER ~,15, 1!94 Qualities of' ~ Moral Guide . . . . , 6~,ald Kelly New Vitality for the Exame.n . '. . Richard t: Rooney. How is Your:Fai÷h? . ~ . . ,. Patrick I~1~ Regan ,On Readin9 af Table ' Claude Ke~n !Preparincj Lay Apostles . ~' / . JohnA. Herdon 0u Lr da ys o'sRary ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ~ , . Adam¯~ C. EII;s ,~ " ~_~., ¯ Ques÷i0~s Answered Books Reviewed ,Vo~u~E:y NUMBER REVIEW FOR R L GIOUS VOLUME V SEPTEMBER 15, 19"46 NUMBER 5 CONTE TS QUALITIES OF A GOOD MORAL GUIDE Gerald Kelly, S.J. 281 NEW VITALITY FOR THE OLD EXAMEN Richard L. Rooney, S.J. /296° OUR CONTRIBUTORS . ". . . ~ . . 300 HOW IS YOUR FAITH?--Patrick M. Regan. S.J . 301 IN CASE YOU DON'T KNOW IT-- . . 314 ON READING AT TABLE Claude Kean, O.F.M .3.15 PREPARING FOR THE LAY APOSTOLATE John A. Hardon, S.J. 319 OUR LADY'S ROSARY Adam C. Ellis, S.J .3.2.4. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 29. Confessions in Convent Parlor .' . 335 ~0. Gift-Money Put Aside for Masses . 33~ 31. Toties Quoties Indulgence on Rosary Sunday . 336 32. Indulgence for Renewal of Vows . 337 33. Use of Profits from Sale of Stationery and Religious Articles 337 34. Profits of School Store Used for Teachers' Supplies and .Correspond-ence Courses . 337 35. Quality of Flour for Altar Breads . 338 BOOK REVIEWS " The Mysteries of Christianity; Major Trends in American Church His-tory; A Mystic Under Arms: Wisdom for Welfare: The Golden Thread of Newman; The Sacred Ceremonies of Low Mass; Caeremoniale: Pars Altera De Celebrante . g . . . " . 340 BOOKS RECEIVED " " 344 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. September. 1946. Vol. V, 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.J. G. Augustine Ellard, S.J. Gerald Kelly, SJ. Editorial Secretary: Alfred F. SchneideL S.,I. ° Copyright, 1946, by Adam C. Ellis. Permission is hereby granted for quotations of reasonable 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. Qoalities of a ¯ Good Moral Guide Gerald ~Kelly,o [;.3. IWAS recently'called on to give a confereonce and lead a discussion on the qualities of a good moral g~ide~ In : preparing the conference I was.impressed by the fact that among Catholics .the most important of all moral guides is the confessor, and that all who give extra-confessional moral guidance must possess to some,degree a5 least the per-sonal qualifications that the Church expects her confessors to have. It seemed quite logical and practical, therefore, to base the conference on the qualities of a good confessor enumerated in the Roman Ritual, and to explain these qualities in much the same way as moral theologians explain them when~treating of the minister of the sacra-ment of penance. Since the group for whom the confer: ence was prepared, was made up almost entirely of religious, I Considered that anything which wouldbe of use to them should also be useful in the REVIEW. That is the reason for the present article. Before discussing the qualities of a good moral guide, it is necessary to determine what ismeant by moral guidance and who might reasonably be considered' as moral guides'. A "guide" points the way,to something, helps others to attain a goal of some kind. A "moral" guide that ls, a guide in moral matters is one who helps others to lead good lives and thus to achieve the best and highest of goals, their salvation and sanctification. SuCh, I think, is the' accepted meaning of moral guidance in the Catholic Church: guidance in,things that pertain to virtuous living. ~Very likely, when We think of guidancel we usually 281 GERALD KELLY Reoieu~ [or Religious. think of it in terms of direction given to individuals: for example;°iJyl confessors, spiritual directors, and student counselors. Yet it .would be a mistake to limit the meaning ~o such formal, indivi~lual relationships. The teacher who explains the Commandments of God, the precepts of the Church, or the Evangelical Counsels, is certainly giving moral guidance, not-to an individual, it is true, but to an ehtire g.rou~p.- So too, the teacher who in' an informal way answers the questi.ons concerning right conduct, that 0stu-dents are wont to ask after class hours is really giving moral guidance, ~ven ,though not in the official capacity of a~studen~ counselor. From what I have said, it is clear that the term "moral ~uikt'i~:' is hpplicable tO-'ii wide range of persons: pfirents: teachers, youth counselors, religious superiors, spiritual directors of religious, confessors, and all others who, in at least an informal and general way, give advi,ce on moral matters. In a class by himself is the confessor, because of his~unique power of absolving and because, quite naturally, certain probl.ems will be referred to him which will rarely, if ever, fie referred to the others. However, if we exclude what belongs uniquely to the confessor, it is apparent that ' all the other moral guides I have mentioned share with him to some degr.ee the office of directing souls and should there-fore be proportionately endowed with the qualities the Church expects him to possess. The remaining sections of this article are based on this assumption. I might add, however, .that in drawing the parallel between the con-feskor and extra-confessional moral guides, I have par-ticularly in mind those religious who have been entrusted with the special office of guiding youth: for example, stu-dent cdunselors. °The Ritual lays special stress on these four qualities of a good confessor: knowledge, prudence, holiness,-and a .282 September, 1946 QUALITIES OF MOI~AL G~ID~s careful observance Of secrecy. It would be difficult~ if not impossible, to think.of' a more apt and adequate summary of qualifications for good moral guidance, whether in or out of the confessional. 1. KNOWLEDGE That those who gu.ide others in the way of salvation must hav~ some knowledge seems too obvious to need com-ment. The blind cannot lead the blind. Yet, it is distres-sing to note how often one hears remarks like these: "You don't need knowledge; all you need is common sense . In the guidance of youth, and especially of children, com-mon sense and sound piety will take care of everything." Such statements are sheer nonsense. Common sense and sound piety certainly have their places in moral guidance, as will be'explained later; but they will not supply for a lack of knowledge of God's laws and of the teaching and laws of the Church. Nor will they supply the' factual knowledge of such things as physiology and psychology that is sometimes required for appropriate guidance. It is one thing to say that g ~uidance presupposes knowl- ,edge; it is quite another_ thing to say just what the moral guide should know and how much he should know. The basic studies that enter into the training of confessors are moral theology, canon law, and ascetical theology. Besides these, it is presupposed that as.a priest he Will know dog-matic theology. I think it is safe to say that-these same subje.cts should form the basis for extra-confessional guidance. The required essential knowledge would differ, theref6re, rather in degree than in kind: All guides should know at least the laws of the ChurCh that ordinary Cath-olici must observe and the approved explanations of these" laws. They should also know the main principles of Cath-oli~ morality and asceticism. 28,3 GE~_ALD" KELLY Review for Religiou~ Guides ~dealo.with:human beings; ,they must 'therefore know something of that h.ighlyAnteresting thing sometimes re.ferred to, as ~"huma~a,~nature.~ ~Ofsourse;~a great :deal 6f knowledge of "human nature" can be. gleaned, fr0m per-sonal experience and close 9bservation of the reactions of oneself and of others. Yet ~ersonal experience is not narfly, sufficient for .the moral grade;~ he should 'also know Something of;the e~dei~len(~cien~dfic st~idies no~ available on ~iJd ps~cholgg;Ci~d61es~ent psychology, the ps~ch010g~ of Cha~c~er, mentfil "hy~iene, "and s6 forth. In~re~iding.such works, however; the moral guide may himself ia~eed the guid~_n~e~°of a competent~ psychologist; for, l~esides the ex~lien~ ~a~efial'~written'on these subjects, ther~ is no small amour~ of Ua[eli~ible. and even .basically ~nchristian materl~l:~ - ¯ - °Ho~ niucl~ mus.t one know !n order to give proper g~uid~inc¢?. The only~ answer is that it depends on the kind of guidance one isi~xpected to give. The nbrm usually given for the minimum amp_unt of~ knowledge of mdral the-ology require'd of a confessor is this: he should know enough to solve the ordinary cases iike!y to be p~esented to him in th~ place wtiere he is to hdar confessions and should be able to recognize exceptionally diflicul t cases that demand further study or consultation with experts. I beli~eve ~that same norm may be. ~applied proportionately to all guides, and I doubt if ~anything mor~" definite can be given in a gen- ~ral article like this. 2. PRUDENCE " Prudence is the virtue which "helps i~s in all circum-stances to form a right judgment as ~o what we should seek or avoid~for the sake of eternal life" (cf. Gasparri's~Cate-chism). ¯ Wheh: we~ speak of this virtue with .regard to a director of souls the "eternal life" that we have principally,, 284 1946 QUALITIES OF MORAL GUIDES in mind is not the spiritual good of'the director but rather the good of the person, he is directing. In. other wobds, the spiritual guid~ must judge what is dondu¢ive, or more con-duci~ ce, .to the~salvation and sanctification of his charge and then, give his counsel accordingly. It is not 'correct, however, to say that the spiritual director seeks ont~/the good'of the persons he "is directing. True prudence must take iia the whole picture. One is "not prudent who ha~rms his own soul in trying to benefit others. .Nor i~ one, prudent who seeks to help ~n individual at the expens~ ofagreater good, Jfor example; the good of the whole coin.munity,,or the, good of the ~hole Church., An adequate descriptiQn, of the prudent guide would, ,~there~ fore, be stated, somewhat as.follov~s: he is one who uses his knowledge, ~his perso.nality, ahd his influence on others°in sucb.a.:way.asoto atthiwthe good of the soul. he.is~directing ' ~ithouvat the;same tim~ harming his°6wn-soul.~ovd~feating a ,,greater good . ~In~ fact, when~corre~tly interpreted,~-t~he ~ord~°,,ad rriajorein,, Dei~:,91oria~ formul~ite, a; perfect rule of prudence. _ "-,~ ~, , - .;. ~ Without further theorizing on this virtue, I should,like to give here a,, nu'mber of practical points concerning the exercise of prudence, in giviiag,moral guidance. :. I am listing th~se points more or less in the fofm,of,,jotting~ because the subject is too large for more complete treatfnent here;' and, though I, gefierally dislike negatives, I thihk it Will, be espe-cially conveni~flt to put these stiggestions in the form~ of._. a series of dOn'~b. Some ,of thesed o'n ts may appear to be more directly concerned ,with,,tbe technique of counseling than"with the virtue of pr-ud~nde; yet, as .I have already indicated; the- actual exercise~of prudence consisl~s"nbt only in directing souls towards a certain end,but also in choosing the :most"appropriate ~means ,,for ~attai.ning., this: end.~q And technique, or tact, is a,.gery., important means,in :the direc~ 285 GERALD KELLY Review for Relioions tion 6f~others. Don't scold. Even~ people who' ask for.h scolding-do notusually want it and are rather .alienated: than helped.by it. I still remember a story told.'during one of my novitiate retreats which aptly ill~astrates this po'int. In a certain parish ;there was a very devout woman who yearned to s:ale the b.eights of holiness and who had heard that trials and humiliations are essential for this. Accordingly she pleaded ins~ste:~tly .with her pastor, "Try me, Father. Please, try me, Father." The pastor was a peace-loving manand had no inclination to accede to her desires ; but one day when she returned some altar linensshe had launder'ed " he kept her for a few minutes and beganexamining the 'linens in her presence. As he looked at each piece of linen he called attention to some imaginary° (or real) defect in the laundering. A few minutes of this was all that the .would-be saint could endure. She burst into tears and began to__~upbraid the pastor for his ingratitude. But he . cut. her short in the midst of her. tirade with a dry'smile and the chiding rebuke, "Try me, Father. Please, try .me, Father." Don't interrupt unnecessarily. It is generally better for the guide to allow his consultant to tell his entire story and then ask questions about points that need further elu-. cidation. Unnecessary interruptions are apt to cause con-fusion and even irritation. Moreover, such interruptions can easily remove the pe.rfect spontaneity of the narrative and result in a "coloring" of the story ac4ording to some preconceived notion of the director. Don't make yourseff indispensable to your consultants. Even ~ children should gradually be emancipated from the need of getting advice about the ordinary moral problems of life. And, though, maturity does not entirely relieve one of all necessity of getting advice, yet progress towards 286 September, 1946 QUALITIES OF-MORAL GUIDES maturity should surely be marke~ by a diminishing neces-sity of advice in ordinary matters. The best type ofspir-itual direction consists in helping the consultant to do his own planning--with the help of .the Holy Ghost, of course; and the guidance of even the immature and the mentall~r unsettled should be directed towards this same end. Don't unnecessarily send consultants to someone else. Boys and girls sometimes ask their teachers about their problemsbecause they have confidence in these teachers. It is not prudent to send them elsewhere, even to a confessor, if ode can easily solve the problem, for they usually accept help most willingly from those in whom they can readily. confide. And this is also true of "grown-ups." The opposite of this error should also be avoided: that ~is, counselors should never show resentment if their con-sultants wish toL seek guidance from someone else. In this matter one should keep in mind :the liberty that the Church' extends to the faithful regarding the choice of confessors. Tbe~same liberty should be enjoyed by_ those who seek extra-confessional guidance. Feelings of superiority or of jealousy, even among those who are working for God, are quite human and excusable; but the deliberate yielding to and manifestation of such feelings by bragging or criticism is petty and can do great harm to God's cause. Don't destroy cont~dence in others. I am thinking of cases such as this: A priests6metimes finds that a child has a false notion of what is right or wrong because of something his mother told him or something a Sister said. In cor-recting the child's conscience it is the priest's du, ty to try to do so in such a way as to preserve'his confidence in his mother or the Sister. He can usually do that by saying, "Your mother meant something like this . . ."; or "The Sister probably'didn't mean it ji~st that way"; and so forth. As a-matter of fact, the child may have misunderstood his 287 GERALD KELLY Review [or Religious mother or the Sister; but, even if h~ did not misunderstand. th~ priest should avoid giving the impression that the m6ther or the Sister was wrong. The case,of the child as just cited is merely, an example. A~nyone entrusted with the guidance off.others can make a mistake, inculcate erroneous0ideas, and foster a.false con-science.~ Yet among.alF.guides--whether parents, teachers, counselors, ,,or confessors-~there should be a spirit of what I might ~call '~'profeisional "loyalty" which.shourd prompt each one to correct the mistakes ma'de by others without at the same ~time,~°shying that they were mistakes. It is important-for all of" us that those who .need ~uidance should retain their confidence :and respect for those" who guide i?h~m; Ddn'~t be too quick to sdlve "ba~d-luck stories" that inOoloe absdnt persons. When two parties are involved in a quarrel or a misunderstanding there are always two sides to the matter. If the donsultant is one of the parties, he will very likely be prejudiced, even though he does not wish to be ahd sincerel3i thinks that he is not. Ir~ such cases the' ideal solution is to get the two ,parties together:and thexi to thresh out the matter: but of course this"may seldom be possible when a ~matter of co~nscience is involved. Never~ theless, even when tb~ other party cannot be se~n or inter-. viewed-the" "guide should try to understand his ,side of the c~se:b~fore planning a course'-of action for his cbnsultant.~ ,Don't bxaggOratb~.tbe sex prbbtem. ' Speaking.:of the confessor's'prudence; moral~theologians lay particular stress. on the ~need df this vi,rtue iia ~all m~itters" p~rtaining,, to,~sex. ":It is better to say-too little thaB too much,~.' is a' theologi:~ cal_ axiom in this,iegard; and~thisapplies-not only, ~o,con-~ fes~brs but to,, all nioral guides.-,:~eachers~ and,,counselOrh' need not~ be surprised~ if they fihd, the topid,int~re~ting.;~yei~, the.yo, should not allow their; interest to,become ~rnbrbid'. 288 QUALITIES OF MORAL'GUIDES They should :not probe for sex problems, particularly for details ~concerning such.problems. A.,.probing.tendency easily becomes morbid and often results in ~the ri~di~ule~ bf the teacher .or counselor who manifests such a tendency. For example, if a few students once suspect, that a. certain teacher or adviser is especially, interested ~in-: sex ~problems, they will speedily.pass:the vgord~on to ot.hers, and'offensive nicknames will pr0bablyobe coined.; I am not arguing,f6r,a~ Victorian silence concerning sex. I believe .that the topi~ should be treated with a simple wholesomeness,, but. as one'part of life,~ and not.as the whole of-life,~ The di.rector who overemphasizesothe'subject will but. defeat,his own cause--and this, :for one~'in the ap.ostolic life, is a gross- _violatio.n:_ of, the ,.most .fun_damental~ rule of prudence~ There,~:are people boys and girls,, men.and women.~---evendn this sex-consdous world of~o~rs, who have absolutely no problem with°regard tq sex: ~0It is v~Lry imprudent .for a guide, .to create prob.lems for such people by' u.nnec.essary,~.questioning,, or by imparting useles.s i.nfor- " ,T,he~Holy ~ee ha~: repeatedl~ called attention~to the. n~edof pr.udence, not only in treating the topi~ of,,sex~ bht also iri' dealing, with the members of the opposite sex., Here again;,~l, might mention that~ special interest is, not unusu~I. It is Certainly quite'naturaI.ofor a man to e'x~erience a,.special interest in,associating with ~omen; quite natural too that, ~omen will be,particula, rly enthusiastic in helping,boys and young men. To'-s6me extent:this natural attractiveness can'be made a powerful, force in the spiritual life. But not if, it gets out of control. The counselor.who makes himsdf or herself a special apostle to the other sex is not likely to have the, dignity, reserve, and purity of intention°required for true success. Hence, while On" the on~,hand it:is not right for anyone to caltivate.a.n i~ttitude of disdain forthe 289 GERALD KELLY Revieto t:or Religious othersex and to become-a. "man-hater", or a ,~'woman-hater, ""it is nevertheless necessary to'avOid the other extreme of giving the impression'that one's.life is divinely dedicated only to, the' opposite sex. Furthermore, one must remember that e~en innocent relationships can appear unsavory and thus harm the cahde:of Christ. Don't giv~ in~orrnatiofi that can't be digested. Those who teach and advise children- are particularly in need of this Caution: Children cannot assiriailate allthe fine dis-tinctions onerlehrns in ethlc~ and in moral th~01ogy:" for example; the~tea~hingon mental 'reservation, the' cases in-' vdlving the "double effect," the difference between the abso-lute and the relative methods of calculating grave sins of theft. We can ~afely say that childrenshould.never be t01d What is false; btit it does not follow 'from this that they shbtild always be t01d the whole truth. For in'stance, Chil-dren should be c6rrectly instructed as to what to do when they doubt whether they have broken the Eucharistic fast, whether they have yielded to a serious temptation, whether they are excused from hearing Mass, and so forth; and-from the solutions of these individu'al problems they will gradu-ally learn by induction the very important ~principles regarding the solution of the so-called "doubtful coil-science." The same is true ~of other moral and ascetical principles.-' Children "learn them best_ thrdugh concrete examples ~and through the solution of individual cases. They are'hardLy capable of learning the.principle firsl~ and then. applying 'it to, practical cases. (But the teacher or the director must know:the principle well; otherwi~e~he might cause confusion in'making the transition from ~one case to anothe'r. Don't guess an answer. If l.had to grad~ errors in prudence ~according to:.their potential" h~rmfulness; I would put'this amofig the'.very highest. '; If' the director "d0es'iaot 290 September, 1946 QUALITIES OF MORAL.GUIDES know the answer to a question or the solution tb a prob-lem, he shodld say so. It is the common experience", even of those who teach children, that omniscienc~ is not.expected of human beings and that the sincere admission of ignorance does not hndermine confidence. "On the other hand, it is evident that great harm can result from trying to solve vital problems by guesswork. Some go to the opposite extreme in this matter: they never give a definite answer, even-when they are reasonably certain about the correct solution. ,This type of guide has the same attitude toward his consultants' problems that the scrupulous person entertains towards his own. The latter is always afraid he is wrong;and he find~ it difficult, if not impossible, to m~ike himself follow what are in themselves perfettly reasonable judgments. ~ Similarly, the timorous guide will not trust his own judgment and will fear to commit himself in the solution of practical moral prob-lems. In other words, he is no guide ~it all. Don't fret over errors mdde in good faith. It is very helpful for those who direct consciences to examine them-selve~ periodically to see how they ~isk questions, solve problems, deal with-different pgrsonalities, and so forth. If this is done calmly and solely with a view to self-imprbvement it is a salutary and commendable practice. ,But if it is used as an occasion to generate worries, it is use-less and even harmful. It can make the office of guiding others an intolerable burden. None of us is infallible except the Pope; and his infallibility is circumscribed by many coriditions. 3. HOLINESS A few years ago The Messenger of.tbe Sacred Heart published an instructive 'incident from the life of Garcia Moreno, once President of Ecuador:. If I remember, the 291 GERALD KELLY o Reoiew for:Religious storycorrec~ly, it went,:somewhat as follows. As a young man Moreno was a master at expl_aining his faith; but scarcely a tyro in 4ts practice: Ond ~vening,:'in-the course of a long discussion with a rationalist acquaintance, Moreno repeatedly'got the' bette~-of °the arguments; arid' the ration- Mist-finally admitted: r'.v rytlamg ,you say seems to be true; yet I can't accept any of it, for.your own life-gives" the lie. to it all." . -: ~ .5 This~ story illustrates, one reason why the wisest guidance is apt to be useless unless the .guide is a persor~ of - solid-virtue.' Example speaks louder than words; Land ,.this is particularly true in the case of the .,young.~ The young are very human; and it is but human to lose con-fidence in ,one who does not practice what he preaches, to balk at accepting high ideals from one who apparently has no personal idea!s, to refuse to be taught honesty, purity, sobriety, and ~,such things by one whose own life is not marked by these qualities. ¯ In fact; if .we. donsider only g?od example, it seems that the ext.r~a.-co.nfes~iona1 guide.is ~more in need of solid yirtue than is the.confessor; for the faithful in general are schooled in the p,rin~iple.t~hat;the sa.craments do not .depend ,gn the 'holiness of the~,min,ister for their efficacy. This principle does not hold for non-sacramental ministries. Hence, in o~, ~ense a~,.least,.,th~e third .requisite. m, entioned by th.e Rttual=- , goodness, ofl~ e'i"f . - ~ - . p e ritans more to the e-xtra-sacramental. guide, than to the confessor. - ".)It seems~.ob,~ious~ th,at, ,quite apart from the need pf confirming one's words by good example, the successful carrying %n of moral guidance calls for the practice of many virtues. I will not try to enumeral!e these virtues here, for r think tha~,~ is ~uniledessary: ~he requirede.virtiies can be epito~nized.,.~iia ,~dne,:,.~ charit~r~, harity ,tow, ards God ,,and ctiaritg:towards the neighbor. - :.- . ,-, ~.r~ -,~. ,~., ~292 8eptember~ 194~ ~UAL'ITIES OF MORAL GUIDES . Love:.of .God is e~se~itial; for, the'~ direction,of souls :is His work.~i.nd it>must be.unequivocaIly:~onsecrated to Him. Some: :guides apparently have great success', even;though they seem to be impelled mostly, by a-.natural love" fo.r the ~ork~.and by the nattiral satisfaction they obtairi ',from having 6thers" ".dep.endent on them, confiding in-them; and flattering them. This may seem to be the case;,, yet I wonder if it is actually so. No doubt God can work wonders with cheap instruments. Yet.it is,~ardly according to His ordi-nary providence, to do so. , Normally He works His marvels of grace through the, instrumentality of those who-are closely joined to Him by love. ._ : , .Charity toward'the neighborAs also necessary. .The guide needs it first arid foremost" to give. him a ,vital super_- natural motivation. ; F,6r: even" though~ it be',trhe, that_some ean be-carried f6rward in: this wo'tk by some natural:~liking --becahselthey like,to, deal with" people,°like to'engage,,in externaLoccupations, and, so' forth--this is by no means universally>true. Most of those .who are assigned fo guidance work find that many who, need their help are not naturally, attractive. The guide needs to see these and, all souls with "the' eyes of,Christ;, he ',has to realize that these souls, who come to hiin for help are:Christ's ".~least.br~th~ ren"; that' they were redeem~d,by;_t.he Blood of (~hrist; that they bel6ng,'or should belong, to theMystical. Body of Christ. Motivation on some .16wer,pla.ne easily~ springs from or degenerat4s into'sheer selfqove:,,which usesghidance only as a "means bf serf-expression and self-glorification a sterile ihing in the propagation of, ihe Kifigdom of God: " Charity. t0wardslthe neighbor is not merely a~ motive force in guidance, Jris also,a supernatural', toot:.that must. be used constantly. :,In this regard.I can' think,.of nokhing more-appropriate than St. Paul'!s subhme eulogy,.:,: -Chanty is~ patient, is°kind; charity envieth not, ~dealeth, not per.- 293 GERALD KELLY Review [or Religious vgrsely, i~ n~ot puffed up, is ndt ambitious, seeketh not her own, is not provoked to anger, thinketh no evil, rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth witla the trtith: beareth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things." These inspired wor°ds merit constant meditation by the spiritual guide. But we shall have to leave them for medi-tation. I can but say a few words here about the first two qualities, "Charity is patient, is kind." ¯ The ideal for all spiritual guides is, of course, Our Lord Himself. Among the fruits of meditation on His life should be a sympathetic attitude towards others and an eagerness to help them; a desire to see the .good in them and draw it to the surface ;.a readiness for the little couitesies and kindnesse~ that mean so much to the human heart, After all, if these little thing~ mean much in ordinary life, they must mean even more to those who are seeking guidance and "who are often nervous, despondent, and even frightened. As for patience, the spiritual guide has countless occa-sions to practice it. Consultants are sometimes unpleasant in their manner; t,hey fail to cooperate; they c6me at incon-venient times; they dwell lengthily on irrelevant triviali-ties; they occasionally manifest a 'gross selfishness by need-lessly consuming time, as if under the impression that the guide has nothing to do but listen to them. Such things o are apt to test patience to the breaking point. And then there is always the possibility of impatience v$ith one's own s~lfmthat is, with one's inabi!ity to handle a case~ ,~ Some theologians advise priests to leave the ~onfes~ sion~aI for a while when they find that they are becoming irritable: to wal, k for a few minutes in the fresh air, or to ~ relax for a~short time in the rectory. It is better to keep the people waiting for a little while than to run the risk of being sharp or rude. Similar ~idvice may be profitable to all counselors. If one feels so ill-disposed that he cannot 294 September, 1946 QUALITIES OF MORAL GUIDES trust himself it is better to avoid an interview or at least to keep it short and continue it later. " ¯ SECRECY The fo~urth requisite for good spiritual .guidance ~is respect for confidences. Religious, perhaps more than any others, should realize the importance of this qualification. They know the great peace and sense of security enjoyed by. individuals and by communities when superiors and direc-tors are careful about respecting confidences; and they know what evils can result from the mere suspicion that someone in authority uses confidential information too freely. Only the sacramental secret is abs61utely inviolable. Other secrets admit at least theoretical and rare exceptions~ BUt it is safe to say 'that, with the exception of the very rare cases wJ~en confidential knowledge may be disclosed, the spiritual ~guide should have a similar ideal with regard to s, ecrecy that the Church constantly pu'ts before her con-fessors. This ideal is succinctl.y proposed by St. Augustine as follows: "I know less about what I hear in confession than I know about those things about which I know no'hinge" Much more could be said about the obligation of secrecy; but I believe that for our present pu~rpose it is suf-ficient to call attention to its importance. It puts what one might call the "finishing touch" on all the other quali-ties. If a director of souls lacks this quality, the others (even if possessed) will be useless; for the person Who does not feel sure that his confidences will be respected simply will not seek guidance. On the other hand, if the director possesses this and the other qualities explaified in this article and uses them for the .good of souls, he will accomplish great things for God and will earn for himself the reward promised to those who instruct others unto justice. 295 N " I't:y fo !:h Old l:::xamen ~ichard L.'Rooney, S.J. ' "" : ~n sea syhsq w.uhla.dt simply ,repeat the verse o~r s, entence over, and over w!tho~.t bejn, g con--. cerned about finish, i.ng .the. prayer or psalm. A month of consistent work at the al~ov~ method of ~xamining on-e's conscience will yield ~uch light :and life to the exercise as to make'it, the exciting cdnt~ict with God that it~can" be and was.meant t6 be. It~will help'too to fuse one's private prayers and liturgical prayers ,'iri~o the unified wholeness that should be the mark Of "the adult ieligious. , , ,OUR CONTRIBUTORS CLAUDE'KEAN, formerly,professor of chant and homiletics at Holy Name, Col-lege, Washington, D. C., is now principal of Timon High,~ School, .,Buffalo, New York. RICHARD L. ROONEY, after serving as a chaplain m the armed forces of the United States during the war, recently joined the staff of The Queen's Work. St.:,Louis,-Missouri. JOHN A. HARDON. who has done much work with high school students in't1~e fiei~l ~f debating and i~ublic speaking,-is'a~ tl~eological s~udent at West Baden College, West Baden Sprifigs, Indiana. [~ATRICK~ M.'REGAN, until r~ecently ,professor of-fundamental theology at St. Mary's C~ollege; St. Marys, Kansas, is sp.iritual director of the junior scholastics at St. Stanislaus Sem!nary, Florissant, Missouri. ~D^M C. ~ELLIg' anal ~EI~.~ED KELLY are"prof~s~ors of canon law m~)ral, theolog~, 'respectively at St'. Mary's .College, St. M~ys. Kdnsas, and are mem-bers of the Editorial Boaid of,REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. ~. 300 . )~'E~ENTL~ a non-Cath0hc journal of theology printed ~1~ ~aff~ditdfial ~n freed~N d{religion. After an.~lysis ~ - of-the' concept of freed5~, ~Yb~ author 6rew tb~s cob; c]usion: "Freedom i~?th~ ~fruit"of~]legxance~ given "to God .~f~ne."v 'He then c~htinued~ VGr~nfing only~a~truly re]i-giSus man-is ~u]ly'~fre~, .,wfi~tL'd0~ fr~edo~ Col: r~]igion mean? . It means, fi~st bf ~]l,a fr~edbm to .cHb~s~sn~s re]i; God resultsqn;freedom td~ ch00se, bne: s own:~religi6nq.~ Why;~ We "w6nde ~t produce allegmnce'to;Go6 s r~l.igion,~ r~veal~d4or all me~ b~ll:' ages? A~ain,,~:sffan~eg;10gic ~that;e:xpl'ai~s there a:fe assortment~of Chr~stmn~ tell: , one .as.good,as. anotHefl. ,~ In,. l'{~'s concern God~ ~s left-us to 'belleve~contrad~ctory doctnnes; to~,}fbllow Lconflietigg~ p~adric~s ~' "all~.this~the fruit , ~' That in the very worship of-God, ~an andnot the' norm~ ~s' contradzctory; "yet-that is precisely~ the~ daffy pracnce of mdhons of Chnstmns. "~s a matter'of factJ'zt - _does noi even occur to them that there is such a thing as one , true religion excludin~ M1 o~fiers as false. When on rare occasions someone institutes ,a s~arc~ for .[ehg~on, t[ut~ consloeranon, because sofew realize that '~ree'~d~m"i?' the' right to CBOose only', what xs gqod ahd t~ue, Godis almost unlvers~lly ~gnored.m matters religious: Truth in Revelation . . ,.:.,: ~o. ' In this whole question. ~f belief, erflphasis must be .laid 301 PATRICK M.R.EGAN R.eview for Religious on tfie'fact that there can bi~ no choice between true and false. GodHiinself in.m~kin.g a revelation could not ignore truth but had:t0, m, an~ifest divine reality as.it actually exists. In a Word, God revealed Himself; and since God cannot .possibly be altered to conform to human opioi0ns,-,man must nece,,,ssafily conform his intellect to the.,truth about God. This he,,does .by believ!ng .the. revealed word. describing God's essence and His relations to man. Now.the first step in,,,the act whereb.y we assent to this .~ruth~ is submission of.the intellect to God's au~h0rity. Thus at the very. outset we must establish direct.,communication with God. Catholics, even though blessed with the true faith and filled .with .high religi'0us id.eals, must, pay special heed to this need of.intellectual contact with God. Though not as vulnerable as those outside the fold, they still may be pron.e ,to give God a sub'ordinate place in their intellectual life of faith, or, even forget Him altogether. Many, for instance, never realize that faith first, last, and always reaches up, to God as the One revealing and the Reality revealed. In the matter of divine charity most of us under-stand clearly enough the necessity of going straight to God without detours through selfish interests, and so strive valiantly for perfect love and perfect contrition. But just as sure as the will embraces God in love,, so the mind is united to Him. in divine faith. God Overlobked However, in. our very zeal for the faith we incline to overlook this intellectual union with God. Bechuse of our tendency to concentrate on the truth, we are quite apt to forget God revealing and even God revealed. Nowadays with so many facilities for stu'dying our religion, wi,th so much urging to understand it and to be able to explain it, we are particularly inclined to focus'attention on its e~pla- 302 September, 1946 Hov~ IS YOUR FAITHi' nation or on a set of questions, thus.overlooking its divine Author as well as tl~e Reality revealed. Quite regularly it happens that, while probing the depths of-the mystery of the Trinity and answering objections proposed, we never even think of the Triune God. Or to take another setting, how many ever think to re, pel a. temptation against faith with: Can'I possibly doubt God's word? Only too.many, terrori.zed by the temptation against faith, wrestle with the truth itself, trying to comprehend, for example, how Christ can be really present in the Eucharist. The Church's Contribution What may prove another obstacle to the union of faith is the relation of the Church to our belief. If this is not dearly understood, it confuses us and may lead even to the Church's supplanting God in our mental attitude towards matters of faith. Any number of Catholics would sub-scribe to: "Because the infallible Church teaches "this doc-trine, it is true, and I believe it." By stopping there the~, profess faith in the Church's teaching with6ut advertence to the real.motive of faith. Following an accepted axiom in the Church th~at prayer conforms to truth (lex orandi, lex credendi), we can verify the motive from our ordinary act of faith: "I believe what the Church teaches, because Thou hast revealed it." Hence the act of faith in its full-ness erriphasizes God's place: "Because God has revealed this, it is true, and I believeAt." " To cede God's place to the Church, even unwittingly, is to lose the advantage'of the. power, beauty, intimacy, and the vision of faith; the com- -'munication of the divine mind to ours. Even though by faith we see God only as "a confused reflection in a mirror" (I Corinthians 13: 12), still it is God, as surely and really as if we saw Him face to face in heaven, and it is He who revealed the reflection. ~ 303 - PATRICK M, REGAN ,.~ Review for 'Religious ,,~; The~primary'office, of the Church is to give us an in,, fallibl guarantee', "This is God's~ messa.ge:r' , This prd: nouncement ig;for ub but a stage On the.way to faith; we must not make-it, a,~ goal. Pius IX in his definition of the Immaculate Conception emphhsized tile duty of.submission both, to the:Chu¢ch and to God;, to fail in the :latter.means, shipwreck for" the faith; °to fail in~ th~ former in~ w6id, w}itihg or ex~er, nal act subjects the offender to alLpefialties of Church Law. ~. The Church's contribution is further cl~irified by St. Paul's distinction: "It was for me to plant the seed, for Apollo to water it, but it was God ~vho gave the increase" (I Corinthians 3: 6). Like:~paul's, the Church!s missi6n is limited to Planting the seed and wateriffg it; it is gtill God who gives the increase. W~ too must beware the error of ¯ Corinth, decried by Paul: "Why, what is Apollo,. What Paul? Only ~the mlnis~er of God in whom your faith rests,. who have brought the.faith to each of you in the measure God granted" (I Corinthians 3:5). We must beware mistaking the gardener for God, to whom the life and. beauty of faith's garden is.realjy doe, Incidentally, we must 'also guard lest the beauty of the flowers of revealed: truth blind us to the beauty of God from whom all beauty comes. Contact with God .One more comparison will clarify and emphasize this ¯ fa~t of intellectual contact with God in faith., A telephffne operatorrs main work is to connect us With our party; tha( done, she maintains the connection and.finally breaks it ,at th~ e'nd of the conversation. While, the office of the infal-lible. :teaching Church' is .far more important than an operator's, involving~fa~, greater power arid ac'tivity,, still there is a :resemblance. It consists in this that the first duty and wish of the Church is to put us in communication with 304 Septe~b'er, 1946o HOW IS 'YbOR FAITHi~ Gbd. ~:Of::~burse,.i ~minirhizing ~her activity wand influence must be,.avoided., She is.not'.,a mechariic~il operhtor,:merely establishing communi~ation Vcith God,that wbuld involve exclusi~cely private 'in~piration. ~ind ~inter~pretatiofi' for a.n3? and.all. No,: she is God%~.own:guardian Of. the whole of His message, teaching it .~ithout possibility 6f er'~or to~.all men, ~xplaining" it, adapting it to our understar;ding, and applyirig,itto current problems. Thus, as mediator ' of God's truth," she is~ His supernatural instrum~nt~ for many~ an i~nspiration and clearer interpretation* in individual souls. -God's then is the,task of love,~'to aid the intellect, engaged with the dogma proposed by the Chu°r~h, to a free assent, and then to admit it~to the mysterious, counsels of the Trinity. It is the: ope~ration of His~ grace, ~silent, effica-cious, mysterious, as is every great work of G6d. Message of the Inffividu~t " Wha(has the individual to say to God, once he has con-tacted. Him th~rodgh the Church? By-passing theological ~ontroversies on ~he prea,~ble.s of faith and on the act i~self, we may say its ~es~a.ge~would be briefly: "Eord, through your Church I have learned of your r~velation to men, now contained in Scripture and tradition. Thes( truths-=I believe because You have revealed them wh~ 'can neither deceive nor be deceived. But more importan~ still, since Your truth is li~ing reality, I wish~ to explore:itslength ~:~ ' an~ ~ ~ depth, b~ead~h and height for. a ~f~r clearer~ arid m~r~ in-timate apprehension. On the Church I rely for explanation. direction, exhortation; but it is only by communicating "with You that I can share more fully in the knowledge of Your intimate nature." Faith Must Grow This contact established, answering divine communi= cationsare set in~mbtion as God through graces and~ inspi: 305 PATRICK M. REGAN ~ Reoi~to for Relioious rations opens .up new vistas of ~,understanding. for the believing soul.,~ To be sure, the.soul mustkeep the line of communication operi throi~gh an attentive mind, remem-bering a distracted or disinterested mind cannot capture the full imports of a messa.ge. This dedper, understanding cbmes, .therefore, during periods of special activity in spiritual matters: in meditation, in vocal prayer, during periods of recollection~, during attentive reading or listening to sermons; in. time of Mass, Communion, thi~nksgiving. Particularly. a recollected rnihd will be quick to recognize God's~inspiratibn, desiroias of profiting by it. Very. rich and elevat~ed is this concept of divifie faith ~:ompared to the all-too-frequent notion that it is mainly a vice-like grip on revealed truth. Thus many 'err in thinking that the more we grit our teeth and. the tighter we clench our fists, the strdnger our faith. Such an attitude exposes faith to the danger .of becoming a lifeless formality., a bone clenched between the teeth; it saps its vitality and dynamic force. In this atmosphere profession of faith can "quickly deteriorate into, "I believe, and that's that; now to Catholic Action, study clubs~ social.uplift, and the rest of the Church's activity." "I believe" should introduce the intellect to a whole world of reality, which like a greaLpainting grows on us through contemplating it. "Gbd revealed" ,challenges the mind to intense activity and will tax it to the limit~ of its capac.ity. Co-operating with "God revealing" by being ever attentive-to His illuminati6ns, we stimulate our life of faith, growing to fuller comprehension of the Reality that is God. In this manner our mental gaze is focused on the God-man,.forinstance, not as He appears in thee light of weak human reason -an-historical personage of the past but, as He is comprehended in all His mysteriousness by God Himself. For in this ihtimate union of faith, God shares 306 September, 1946~ HOW IS YOUR F~AIT~I.;' His own knowledge with us. It is quite detrimental, therefore, to the whole spiritual life to mistake faith as mainly tenacity in clinging to revealed truth. While~striving for ~the union of love, our minds do not meet God's to participate in its treasures. ' To be sure, tenacity has its own importance since we must hold ,fast to the faith. But revelation is not a bodyof truth delivered two thousand years ago, passed on from age I~o age as a sort of sacred fossil guarded by the Church, and exhib~ ited to our astonished gaze as an archaeological phenom-enon. True, "God revealed" does not change; there is no change in the Three Persons who are God. But our knowl-edge of '-'God revealed" changes, and that very rhuch, if we nurture it zealously to a robust growth; in fact, it will neve~ cease to grow as long as we tend it. Even in the Church there has been development in ufiderstanding doc-trine since the time of the Apos, tles, for living truth must grow. Our own individual growth must be fostered by a mind attentiv~ and a will docile to divine illuhaination; necessary too is our own burning desire and resolute will to overcome our natural dislike for contemplating truth. Steadt:ast in Faith " ~ome~of the foregoing strictures may give the impres-sion that constancy in faith is of minor importance. Such an impressi6n would be erroneous since tenacity has its place and importance as one of the essential properti~es of faith. Thus millions of martyrs through the centuries demonstrate and emphasize the need of cons(ancy; because they professed the faith even in the jaws of death, they were gloriously, crowned. This constancy is also living and dynamic enabling us to face the trials and difficulties of faith perseveringly to the end. It involves cooperation with God's activity in our souls. ~ This constancy, as a living thing, must also grow. For 307 P2(TRiCK-M. REGAN Ret~ieto [or Rel]oiou~ -one ~hi~g it will grow apace with our increasing intellectual apptehensior~ of God's.mysteries through our grac.e-assisted contemplation'of truth. The more peni~trating our. faith and the more real, the~deeper our convictions that make. for steadfastness: :No man.ever,laid down his life for a cold, unrealized .proposition; 'but millions; have died for God who through faith, bec~ime a g~eat and loved reality. ~Every element~,of,~.faith, therefore, must ,be ~arefull~r fostered to ~ttain full and healthy growth. God sets no limits to 'His~ graces to enable-us to accomplish this: Brighter and brighter will be °the~'illuminations~as We make progress, clearer and-clearer the vision, until only a thin veil. as~ it, were separates us from th~ i~naccessible light ,of "God revealed.'[ .Co-operating generously, with grace, m~ny; a~ saint ha~ attained to that sublim~ height,of intel~ lectual realization of~':God revealed." _ . Pihs XII Exhorts The majority of us, perhaps,~are altogether tOO supine about contemplating' ~evealed truth, even fighting shy of mysteries. Pope Pius XII in his encyclical on the Mystical Body writes:. ,- So'he through empty fear look upon so profound a doctrine . (of the Mystical 'Body) as something-dangerous, and so,they fight shy of it as~ the, be~autiful-~but.~forbidden ifrtiit of,~paradis_e.~. ,It is:not s0: Mysteries-revealed~ by God. cannot: be harmful to men; nor should they remain as treasures.hidden in a field, useless.° . : These words a~one if taken seriousl~'~at f~ll face vai, u~ should.inspire us to a study of mysteries, a study which is capable of ~assisting,.us to the heights :of. contemplative u~ion.~ ~ ~ery hexf ~brds 0~ the ~offti~m~l~ this: "~ysteries ,~ve been given .from on high preqisely ,to hel~ th~ spiritugl progress of those who stud~ them ~ a ~pjrit of-piety~ This would seem to be. a fruitful_source itual advance which manz~0~erlo~k ~rneglect.," " .". - 3O8 ¯ Septelnb"er, 1946. ,, HOW IS -YdlJR"FAITH? < ,7 ,,Makir~9, G~d Real -~' This~sthdy of.mysteries; thotigh ,it can be promoted throu~gl~ ,stu~ty ,clubs, ,doctrinal ;lectures;'assimila tiv~e .readin'g, does not necessarily involve such formal methods. Inq?act, if s~iritual p'rogtess is to result, it is only ac(omplished Under the tutelage of ~God Hims~elf, "in a spiri~ of.piety," as the ~oritiff puts it. ~ A fei?vent ~so~il, 'filled vith grow, will b'e0,greatly encouraged and , orisoled by its noticeable progress in spiritual insight into mysteries. making dailymeditation in this way in.~the presence of Christ, reflecting on th~ mysteries, prayihgfor light, in-voking the ~intercession of "the saints for grace, a s0ul will t~avel far toward making God very real to itself. Nor are these" exhortations to contemplate rev.ealed truth only f6r the highly educated and'for those learned in theology. It is the only way I~o make God real to the soul. Hence many uneducated and simple people have attained . brilliant success, not 0nly canonized saints, but hidden ones als0. ~rchbish6p Goodier in his booklet, "Some Hints on Prayer," tells the story of a poor woman., bedridder~ for years. When she-first became ill she arranged some daily prayers for~ herself, resolving to say them slowly to make them go bett~r. But soon the Our Father had gr6~n so much that.it took her a wh01eweek to'get.,through it. She often prayed~ that many otlfers wot~ld"find how much¯ ~s ~hidden in'~the Our Father. Through the grace of ~.God, therefore, through patient endurance of her sufferings, and through ridding herself of haste, which according to St. Francis de Sales is the ruin bf devotion, this poor, uneducated-woman reached "sublime heights of contempla-tion. Week after week the mystery of the fatherhoodof . G6d and the brotherhood of men.filled her thoughts as the ~reat reality it is. Her method was simplicity itself, yet few follow her example. _: ~ ~09 PATRICK M. REGAN Review for Religious Method. of Vatican Council The identical method for the st-udy of mysteries, explained in more technical language, is outlined in the encyclical: For, as the Vatican Council teaches, ;'reason illumined by faith, if it seeks earnestly, piously and wisely, does attain, under God, to a certaiti knowled, ge.and a most helpful knowledge of mysteries, by considering their analogy with what it knows naturally, and their mutual relations and their common relation with man's last end," although, as the same hol~r Synod observes, reason even thus illumined ~'is never made capable of understanding these mysteries as it does those truths which form its proper object." Undoubtedly, the poor woman in meditating the fatherhood of God was unaware she was using analogy and was integrating the mysteries, but she did that nonetheless. There is no other Way. Application Even a few meditations on this method of studying revealed mysteries would bring immediate advantage to any soul striving for spiritual progress. Such considerations as the following would be profitable: ( 1 ) Since an ecumen-ical council proposes this method and stamps it With its approval, we have antecedent certitude of its efficacy. (2) The first requisite is to "seek," and this involves the intellectual effort always required in the search for truth. (3) We must be "earnest, pious, wise" (each word fur-riishes enough matter for a meditation) in our search. (4) All'this leads to "a certain knowledge .and a helpful knowledge of mysteries." Having pkescribed the proper attitude and indicated the certain goal, the council then tells us how this is to be reached. Three lines of procedure are indicated._ .We must consider,the analogy of mysteries with what we know naturally. " Since God is mirrored in His creation, we can consequently always find at least a faint resemblance" 310 September, 1946 HOW IS YOUR FAITH? . for a mental take-off into the stratosphere of divine reality. The shamrock,indeed, has but a very remote resemblance to the Trinity; yet St. Patrick, according to tradition, used it successfully tb teach that mystery to the Irish. St. Augus-fine's mirror of the Trinity was the human soul with its being, knowing, willing. Ever.y successflil catechism teacher has learned by experience the practical value of clear, striking examples, which is nothing else but the method of analogy applied. The second line of procedure indicated b~ the Vatican Council is to consider the "mutual relations of mysteries." Thus a consideration of the relation of the Trinity to the Incarnation, of this to the Redemption, of this to the Mysr tical Body (to indicate only one .chain of mysteries) will astonish most of us by the abundant fruits of progress in knowledge of God. , The third line of procedure is a consideration of the "common relation of mysteries with man's last end." It too will delight us with the new superna[ural world it pre-sents to our wondering gaze. An Example An outstanding example of .the application of this method is to be found in the encyclical on the Mystical Body itself. This doctrine .is a strict mystery.involving very many other revealed mysteries. The main purpose of-the encyclical is to explain the doctrine. The entire first part is an explanation in three sections of the terms, ,Body," "of Christ," and "Mystical." The explanation of "Body" is an unfolding of the analogy of this Body to physical and moral bodies found amongst us. "Of Christ" is explained .by interrelating the mysteries of the Incarna~ tion, redemption, and sanctification to our union with Christ :for our eternal salvation. "Mystical" summarizes the two preceding expl~inations. Other mysteries involved 31i PATRICK M. "REc.~N Re~ieu~ for Religious in .the furtherexplanation are: union in faith, hope, and charity through .the Holy Spirit, the divine indwelling, and the sacrifice, of the Mass. An Application The" very intellectual life of faith we are treating is mysterious. It will not be amiss to apply what we have been l~earning from the° Vi~tican Council to throw new light on it. We shall employ an analogy. Suppose a sci-entist made a radar contact with an inhabited planet~ learning much of the nature of the place ahd its inhabitants. This scientist ~e would accept as an authqrity, studying with avidity the information he 1Sassed on. We would be most eager for mdre and more informati6n, ff by some chance" the ficientist enabled us personally ti~ communicatd in amystefious way with the ~uler of the. planet, we would seize every opportunity with miser's greed. Slow and imperfect though the method might be, we would l~atiently persevere, wqlcoming every new. bit of information, rejoic-ing that first crude ideas were being gradually clarifiedl Now the Church presents us th~ revealed facts of heaven, its citizens, its nature. As intermediary she guar-antees °the facts as ,revealed by God. The personal com-munication with God she makes.possible to us,~and, daily we speak familiarly with God, His Mother, the angels, and the saints. "We really live in .that atmosphere of the super~ nati~ral life, with God 'and its ~charac_ters growing more and more. real:with the passing of time~ Surely it all should~ be as ;~ctual as'any ~tadar communication'with a distant planet might be. : " ° '~ " ~ " ~' A East Applicatio~n But ,.rfght here on earth there is quite a bi.t Of heaven,," what with, the~. ~r.ii~ity ~indwellifig in our souls, the, Real Presence, the Holy Sacrifice. The Adoro Te of St. Thomas 312 September, 1946 How IS YOUR FAITh? Aquinas will furnish bur last application: Sight, touch and taste in Thee are each deceived, The ear alone most safel~l is believed, I believe all the Son of. God has spoken Than Truth's own word there is no truer token. If a blind man lived in paradise, how eagerly he would Hsten to every description and explanation of his surround-ings. His would be a very real world; and he would act accordingly, e.njoying every delight to the utmost of his limited capacity. In fadt' his very handicap would result -in sharpening other faculties" to chmpensate for his defect of vision. His prayer would be-ceaseless for full vision. his ~whole b~ing rejoicln~ at °every slightest advance to the goal. Now it is an astoun~dirig reality that every element of the beatific vision is so proximate to us. With Father, Son, and Holy Spirit dwelling in us through sanctifying grace, only mortal bodies and the obscurity of faith prevent full vision. This will come after we pass through the portal of death; but meanwhile immelisurable p~rogress toward vision is within our pdwer. T.he blind man is hopeless compared to us aided by God revealing Himself to us ceaselessly. How is 'Your Faith? In the light o~f all that has gone b~fore, we should be able to get a clear picture of the st/fie of our ow.n intellectual life of faith. ~re are halrdly in the class of those outside 'the fold for.whom God .means so little in faith and religion that freedom of reli~i.on means .the right to choose any re!igion you like. But if faith is mere words, a jumble.of words wi.tb no~.'ireality ~be~ind them, if praye~ is nothi~ng.but the droning of words, and spiritual reading a study of literary form and style, then God is'not a great r~ality in our, spit,] itual life. But perhaps many do actually glimpse a vague vision 31,3 PATRICK M~ REGAN of God as a great reality. Their faith Will still be weak unless daily they exert themselves constantly to keep in contact with "God revealing" Himself personally to them. This is our life's work and, faithfully followed, it leads to great heights. While checking the foregoing, we can also profitably~ examine our attitude towards the office of the Church and towards~ the function of steadfastness in our faith. All will be well if we find that for us faith is a first link with a supernatural world that is very real, and that through grace we contemplate that world, making God ever more real to us. In such a case we will welcome the helpful sug-gestions of the Vatican Council for studying mysteries, and the exhortation of our Holy Father to do this in a spirit of piety to promote our spiritual progress. In Case You Donq: Know ~Twelve years ago the Salvatorian Fathers inaugurated ~he devotion known as the "Priest's Saturday." It consists essentially in offering Holy Mass, Hbly Com-munion, all prayers, labors, sacrifices, joys, and sorrows on the Saturday f011owing the First Friday of each month for the sanctification of all priests and students for the priesthood throughout the world. Literature explaining the devotion in detail may be obtained from the Salvatorian Fathers, Publishing Department, St. Nazianz0 Wisconsin. "To de~,elop in souls a strong permanent devotion toward Our Lord in the Sacrament of His Love by concentrating attention on the Eucharist during thirty consecutive days," the Fathers of.the Blessed Sacrament organized a movement, which is now enriched with indulgences, fo~ the observance of April as the "Month of the Holy Eucharist." For full information wirite to.the Fathers of the Blessed Sacrament, Desk: M.H.E., 184 East 76th Street, New York 2, N. Y~ ~ new quarterly review, Catholic Action, is now published to provid~ for the special conditions, needL and opportunities of Catholic Action in India. The magazie is published at 2, Armenian Street, George Town, Madras, India. Ann.ual Subs.cription Re. 1-4-0. Our Lady's Press Mart, P. O. Box 122, Passaic, New 3ersey, offers gratis attractive "Go to Mass Sunday" ~tamps suitable for use on letters, packages, and so forth. Requests for stamps must be accompanied by a self-addressed stamped envelope. 314 On Reading a!: e Claude Kean, O.F.M. ~T CAN hardly fail to Strike the newcomer to religious life as odd--this reading aloud of pious books during meals. What, he wonders, is the purpose of it? Is it to expedite meals? Or to safeguard communal charity? Or to expiate the self-concession inherent in eating? Or, at least on fast days, to divert the mind from the menu? It is not long, of course, till he finds the answer: that, just as restaurants add music to meals for the consumer's pleasure, religious refectories add reading to meals for the consumer's profit. This profit can,. undoubtedly, be substantial. The refectory reading can draw our minds, after a morning or an afternoon of distracting duties, back from the perimeter of religious life to the Center; can "knit up the the ravell'd sleave of care"; can freshen our spirit and fill anew the wells of our motives. But it can do these things only if several conditions--quite .obvious, yet quite often ignored are posited. First, the reading must be heard. Normally, it will be heard if the reader observes Father Pardow's simple rubric: Open, your mouth, and,read slowly. There is the whole crux of the matter. A lectern, rightly placed, can help; and, in large refectories, a public-address system can help even more. But, as trained actors have proved a thousand times over in whispered lines, the audibility of a voice depends not primarily on bigness of volume, but on sharp-ness of diction. Barring marked impediments of speech, then, there is not one reader in the religious community who cannot be easily understood if, in the phrase of Canon Sheehan, he will "~bite off:. his words, as riflemen bite their 315 CLAUDE KEAN Review for Religio'~s cartridges,, and chisel:every~ consonant, and giv~ full scope to every vowel. Nekt to ~nunciation comes .interpretation. It would seem that, under this heading, a curious tradition governs mu~b bf our refectory reading:xhe traditiori°ofut'ter~.imp~r~: sonali'ty. Perhaps from"promptings~of humility, we'strive to sou:nd not like ourselves Or. lille any recognizable person at all, but like some generic concept of a religious. To that end we affect a voice suggestive of a~cold in the head: a voice - that is toneless, lifeless, remote, altogether detached from its posseskor; a voice that, shorn of allaccidents, comes forth before mafiklnd as a, sheer essence. We read .every word like every other word. We reduce all the author's thoughts " to a common denominator of impassivity. His challenging ~question-marks and his indighant exclamation-points w.e turn ~like'into prosaic periods. If dialog odcurs, we flatten it into monolog. If we come to a passage of poetic beauty.- we read it as dispiritedly as though w~ were reading the cdnstitutions of the community. And this is.passing strange. An hour or two ago, in a classroom, We read aloud a story so imaginatively that our young listeners hung on our every word; and now, inca refectory; we read aloud another story, or at least another book, so'perfunctoriIy that our religious hearers nod' over their plates. Why the sudden declension.from Dr.Jekyll to~'Mr.' Hyde? °WSy the horreht change~ fro~ entirely natfiral reading to entirely unnatural chanting? from a "stylethat vivifies a text to a style.l:hat embalms it? We .are, indeed, not to "tear passion t6 tatters" in our reading: we are not to over-read. -~But neither are we to under;read. Good reading is nothing but intelligent reading. And religious self-effacement demands neither the privat.e nor the public abstention from the. use of intelligence. The Horation precept still' holds: ""If you want me ,to 316 ~epte~nber, 1946 ON READING AT TABLE weep, yoti yourself" must-first grlev .'- The :interested listener still 15resupposes'the interested reader. A,nd, instead of a. drably~ ascetic feature of our daily schedule, what a profitable and pleasurable pastime might our table reading become if all our readers were, to read, not "in.,mournful numbers," but,in~tories thatovariously "echoed the sense" Of what. they read! Much of the prosperity_ of reading, it is true, depends upon the book: And 14ere let superiors remember that books, like music, fit particular purposes and occasions. Bach and Beethoven and B'rahms are masterly music indeed; but, as tests have proved (as though proof were needed!-), they are not good dinner music:, The subtlety of Bach~ tl'ie e/no-. tional inten~ity~of.Beethoven, the massiveness of' Brahms impede digestion, instead of promoting it. On the other hand, Strausi is ggod dinner music:~ for the most part light-some; melodious, and not too profound. In'a similar~ay, many books of devotion, :though in themselves excellent;-are not good table reading. -Contro-versial works aye not, nor are scholarly works of apologet-ics, nor are solid treatises on asceticism. Close concentration and happy digestion do not get along well together. Saint FranCis de gales, .for "that~ reason, advises against mental prayer ~immediately after a. meal, "before digestion-, is adxianced;" .citing.~not Only the diffidulty of concentration when-ori~:is "heavy .and drowsy," but the positive danger to.14ealthinoit. And is it hot at[ least conceivable thxt.some off,the stomach ~disofde'rs n'ot uncommon.among religious can~be~ofra~ed0to the tieayy.literary fare.serv_ed at our m~als.: thd .bookS:of unrelenti.ng s¢tf-an, alysis,.~the pon~derousotrea-tises on ,th~'~irows,; the.~un.relie.vedly.,statistical bi~graphi~sof the'saints? ~ ¯ One mother superior told the writer not long ago that, weary of high and dry books, she had appointed for table 3 CLAUDE KEAN reading an excelleiit novel by an excellent novelist, White Fire, by FatherE. J. Edwards. S.V.D. Though a few rigogists in the communiyy frowned at the, innovation; the majority of the sisters rejoiced. Here, for once, was a book to which they could listen without effort; indeed, a book which they could follow daily with bated interest and yet not without genuine spiritual profit. From the trials of a real flesh-and-blood nun, "Sister Agnes," they derived more practical wisdom than from whole libraries of abstract ascetics: Would the ~xperiment of that superior not be ~orth duplicating in al! communities? Is it against a book that it excite interest? that on occasiofi it even provoke good-humoredlaughter? Must we eoer eat our bread in serious-. nes~ and sorrow, as though joy w~re not a gift of theHoly Ghost? If Our Lord "taught in parables," is it undignified for us to listen to parables in the form of religious nov.els? If almost every word that He utterid was fringed with the pictoriM and often even the poetic, do we indulge in unseemly leyity by preferring the colorful and concrete religious bool( to the vaporous and abstract? We,live in an age of excellent, Catholic writing: of first;rate biographies[ such as .Walsh's Theresa of Aoila. Feeney's American Woman, Maynard's Too Small a World, O'Brien's Enter Saint Antl~on!1,~Sargent's Mitri, Repplier's dunipero Sera or Mere. Marie of the Ursulines; of well-Written novels, such as'those of Benson and Shee-ban and more recent writers like Edwards; of attractive works of apologetics, such as thoseof Chesterton and Lunn; of Nell-edited Catholic rnagazines and papers, replete with articles of current "interest and importance. Why, in the midst of such plenty, should we keep to a starvation diet? 318 ' Preparing t:or t:he Lay Apos!:oh !:e 3ohn A. Hardon, S.3. SOME time ago, one thousand Detroit public high school students and their teachers filled the Rackham Memorial Hall to listen to the devout recitation.of the Hail Mary! The Ave Maria was part of a dramatic story a young man was telling about a Canadian commando who seems to have been miraculous!~ cured of blindness by our Blessed Mother. o How did such a Catholic subject as. devotion to Mary ever get a hearing in a public speech exhibition? before an auditorium full of non_-Catholics? and .the whole affa~ir sponsored by a large secular university? The answer-is: Catholic Action through t~e Sodality. We must all be aware of the interest manifested by the late Holy Father and by the present Pontiff in the forming of a lay apostolate and of their wish that the Catholic school be made a training ground for such an apostolate. These facts were made quite evident by the letter to the superiors general of all religious institutes on the "Pro-motion of Catholic Action.'~' This letter, written in 1936 by the Cardinal Secretary of State in the name of Plus XI, was quoted in full in REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (September, 1945), and was accom-panied by a very complete commentary by Father F~fincis B. Don-nelly. It is one thing to know the fact that the Holy See. wishes our Catholic schools to be a training groun~ for the formation Of lay apostles; it is quite another thing to determine the meang o~f accom-plishing this purpose. Space fdrbids our giving ~ here an extended study of all the different ways in which training lay apostles can be integrated into the regular program of a Catholic grammar school, high school, or college. There are many methods of doing this:, and the teacher's own ingenuity will suggest scores of ways besides the one here detailed. But the writer's experience is limited to the effective-ness of one method of" dovetailing Catholic Action with Catholic education. The method in question is extra-curricular speech wbrk in high school elocution and debatifig. Elocution in its variant fo~ms---oratory, declama'tion, and dra- 319 JOHN A. HARDON Review for Religious matic dialog has long been recognized as an excellent medium for "d~vel6}ing the-intellectual and emotional talents of young students. But it can b'e much more than that. It can become the instrument f~f~aining"them tO give'that evidence of the faith within them of which we'American Catholics are so sorely in need. Once a teachdr df eloquence becomes convinced that his or her trainees can be inspired by higher ideals than mere excellence in vocal expression, then what began as-at~ elementary ~btirse in speech:culture become~ overnigh~'~ dyn~'.mi~ an~t almost r~sistless force of tl~e 'apostolate. No secular sub-jec(, be'it ever so nbble, has the power ofqhspiring young minds with ~the s~me enthusiasm that is evoked by the simplest truths of our ¯ Catholic 'faith. But there is more than inspirational value to this change of atti-tudd. As soon as a definite apostolic turn is given to elocution sub-ject matter ~nd technique, oppdrtunities will be found without even lookir~g'for them top~ut the ammumnon°t9 immediate use. In many ci'ti~'s tl~er°~ are forensic l~a.gues with mixed Catholic and non- Cat.holic membership. Ih such places Catholic studenf's have all the room they.w.ant to give express.ion to the ideals and principles of the religion th,ey profess/ This does not mean that every elocution, piece ips9 fdcto becomes a vehicle for Catholic propaganda: but it does ,mean that eyeiy speech cariies.enough of the substance of the faith to impress the ndn-Catholic 'audience that, "Here i~ something dif-fe'rdnt. It's good:and it's Catholic: ': " 3~V'hen,. for ek.ample, a young man gives 'a,n' oratorical piece like "T'h~ Easter 'Message from Co'r~regidor~'' even the most blas~ are bound to li~te~n sy~mpatbetica, lly. He quotes, the words of the an-nouncer of the Voice ~'o~ Freedom thht" fateful Easter morning of 1942: "People of the Philippines, .do nbt despair. Your deliverance is near at hand. Likh your Mas~t~r before°':you, you have been betrayed into the hands of your enemies. Like your Lord and Mas-~ tel you have been beaten and tortured and put to death. But like Him tOO, you will soon rise again to a glory and a peace that you have never known before. People of the Philippines do not despair." When words like that are spoken,, it doesn't take a Catholic or iven a Christian to appreciate the depth of human, feeling hidden behind ihem. But the important thing for our purpose is that they were_ originally spoken-by a devout Catholic, Colonel Romulo, aide to the late President Quezon of the Philippines. And they carry the sub- 320 September, 1946 PREPARING LAY APosTLES stance of a penetrating truth: the rederfiption of mankind by the death of Christ on the, Cross. So much for elocution as a suitable medium for cultivating~the apostolic spirii in our students by .giving them first hand oppor-tunities of'putting this spirit into practice. Another means'that has _been found even more effective in this respect is interscholastic debating. As an outlet for Catholic ~Action, debating is~only just beginning to be exploite~d .by our teaches of forensics. A case in point is the State of Michigan where out of two hundred high schools in the'forensic league all but five or so are secular institu-tions. .This argues to~ an oversight somewhere. Either the p~blic schools are~ misguided in the emphasis they place on" forensics, or we Catholics have not yet come to realize that there are more than~ edu-cational possibilities hidden in this field. It may sound romantic to talk about high school teensters,getting up in a ~ublic forum to defend some elemental troth like the charity of Christ in a godless world. But they doit. The aildience may be indifferent or unfriendly, and there is always the clever witticism to take from "the gentleman on the opposition." This offers no diffi-culty at all. The teensters enjoy the smell of battle aiid soon develop a cast of mind that practically nullifies a purely secular approach to'any stibject, political, social, or economic. Many examples could be given to illustrate the effectiveness of debating as an entree into the lay apostolate. On one occasion, during a city wide tournament, twelve of our debaters were defending Pope Pius XII's Five-Point Plan for World peace.Their opponents were eight ottier groups of high school students from as many dif-ferent secular institutions. One of the coaches openly criticized the program our young men were following: "Cut out that religion stuff. R~ligion is all right iri church, but it has no place on a debate platform. If~you want to get any decision from the judges, you'd better change your method of argument. ,You'll never win a debate that"way." Well, he was wrong; because the young Ciceros not only Won a debate but ran off'with the whole.tournament. Another timei~while debating with an out-of-town fsublic school on thd'question of a federal world government, the,first speaker on the affirmative did not defend.the affirmative. He brok~ into a tirade that lasted ten minutes, defending a world order in ~vhicb the Providence of God woul~l' not"be recognized. "What has .religion got us any-way~ Nothing but wars 'and misery: After all, we are masters of 321 JOHN A. HARDON Reoieto for Religious our own destiny. Let us work out a plan of world peace in which every notion of a power higher than man's will be scuttled." This might have beeh ranting nonsense, except that the poor fellow was dead serious about what hewas saying. The logical thing for our first speaker to do was to forget all about his own prepared talk 'and answer the blasphemy. So be spent his ten minutes of allbted time defending, not a substitute for a world government, but the recog-nition of Almighty God in the world which He created. Incidentally there is a peculiar significance in th~ choice of sub-jects or resolutions for. interscholastic debates. Individual schools do not choose a subject but the choice is made for them, apparentl~, through the National Educational Association and according to the recommendation of the Federal Government. Only one subject is given out each" year. It is the same for all the high schools and col- . leges throughout the country, As a matter of policy, the annual debate topic is being discussed in Congress during the very time that student polemists are threshing out the subject among themselves. All of th~s is part of our democratic system, whereby national issues are first ~ired among thg people before official action is taken upon ¯ them by the government. This emphasizes the.importance of our Catholic schools' . taking advantage of their democratic privilege to instil some of the principles of Christ into the minds and hearts of those who hardly know Him. And along with this positive indoc-trination of others, the students are training themselves to become what the late Holy Father made bold to call, "Bearers of light, helpers of the Holy Spirit, auxiliary light-armed soldiers of the Church."' A word is in place on the ranks from which the young men' were drawn for this basic training in the apostolate that we have reviewed. They were Sodalists, actively interested in promotiiag the apostolic aims of the Sodality. Many of them were members of a local Catholic Action cell where they received the backgroflnd and inspiration necessary to appear in public as youthful exponents of their faith. It took courage to do what they did; but the courage was never lacking. Sometimes their efforts were repaid with the high compliment of imitation. They might come back to a return engagement in debate and listen to the opposition non-Catholic, of course defending -the Pope as" an authority in politics and the social sciences. , An objection might be raised that it is time enough to introduce Catholic students inl~o the lay apostolate after they have finished their 322 September, 1946 PREPARING LAY APOSTLES formal studies. Then too there is the question whether the secular clergy and not religious are to take the 15fimar~r'.and~almost exclusive initiative in the promotion of Catholic Action. To both these ques-tions we have the authoritative answer of Plus XI in~his Apostolic Letter to the Brazilian hierarchy, October 27, 1935. His words deserve to be me, moriz, ed ~by every religious who is sincerely interested in th~ apostolate of the laity: "Surely the most p6werful and far-flung support o~f Catl~oli~ Action may be expected from the numerous religious institutes of men and vi'omen wl~ich have already rendered such signal services to the'Church . Religiofis men and women will he!p'Catholic Action in.~a very.spec!al way if they strive to prepare for it from their earF, est years the boys and girls whom they have in their schools and academies. These young people should at first be g~ntlV drawn to a desire for the apostolate, and then should be steadily ~nd earnestly urged to join the associations of Catholic. Action; and ,where such associations are wanting, they should be promoted by the religibus tb~rnselt~. Surely there is no bettdr way and no better opportunity for training young people in Catholic Actioia, than those which exist in schobls and cblleges.~' -One las~"pbint needs to be cleared up. The objection might be made that our Catholic schools already have as many organizations as the student body and teachers can manage. More additions would be useless'~here they would not be a positive.burden. In any case, there is no rriore room for organizations of a spe.cifically apostolic, cl'iar-acter. It will have been noticed in the present review of "apostolized'" speech activities that they were first and foremost,a sodality activity, o In other words, promoting the work of the apostolate among our students can and in most cases.should be the immediate work of school organizations which are riot. 0penly and avowedly "Catholic Actionist." Pius XI is explicit on this point, in the letter which he wrote to the Hierarchy of Brazil iff 1935. Touching this very ques-tion, he says: "Thus also the associations and institutions which have for their purpose the spread of piety, the teaching of Christian doc-trine, or any other form of social apos~01ate, will bec6me ai~xiliary forces of Catholic Action. and without departing in any way from each one's peculiar sphere, will happily secure that concord and har-mony, that organized co-operation, and that mutual understanding, which We have ceaselessly recommended." 323 . ur Lady s Rosary . A Adam C.-ElliS, S.J:,, ". "- ~ . . ~ " ~C~6BER is. t~e', month~ p~ OuE Lady'~ Rbs~ry. Throfighout ~the Catholic ~world pri~st~,,-,.rgligio~s~ and men and~women of,every walk of life vie with ~ach other to,do honor to ~Our Lady by the daily recitation "0f the ros?ry? R may be hel~ful-~as-a ~timulant ~'for 6u~ ~evo~i6n,~'t6~re~all the 6rigin, hature; and onditi6ns of this p0pp[ar devotion. , . .~ ~ . . :, ~- ° ~" " " o The Our Father ¯ T~e most . precl,o, us of~fie 3ral pr ~r~ ~n t~ tr~as~r tb~.~Ch~r~h ,is un~oubt~)y th~ Q6r.Fath~T. ~Cbri~t Him; s~l~ taught this prayer to His,disciples when they ~arn~stly as~d~Hxm.: ;Eord~.;~acb' 6s to pray,~ ~wn as ~ohn~likd~is~ ta~t,~i~ 'disqi~l~s" (U~k~ 1'i": '1~) :~" '~nd'th~'~t~Xv%~ ~or~-s Prayer as g~wn to.us by Saint Matthew m hxs Gos-pel'S( 6:9-.13) became the daffy prayer ~, tile first.Chns~ fiansz.as, w~ll,as,~o~ alhth~ ~a.kh~Ldo~-,.through ,th~ ~n~ "" I( We f&~ll'that :6~"~t3 the~l~ttdr half'of ~ntur~, ~h~ ~h~ art ot p~ntmg. ~s ~nwnt~d, ~only th~ nob~l~t~ could r~ad.an~ wnt~, a r~. not surprised; to l~arn that,th~ p~i~cip~! d~vo~ion~ ~a~th~ul~ at~.larg~was.,th~ r~p~tition~o~ th~ Ofir Fath~i~ th~ 9~ghth c~ntury, th~ p~mt~nt~als, .or books.r~lat~ng t0 p~mt~nts, pr~scr~o~d, var~ous p~nanc~s ot tw~nty,,,ntty, o~ mor~ Pat~r.Nost~rs. ~gain, in th~ cours~ o~ th~ early.c~n-turi~ s o~"t~ ~Middl~ ~.g~s~ w~n-.th~ lay 'brothers "in r~ligious orders b~cam~ .distinct ~mm'~h~ choir mofiks~ th~ ~orm~r, who w~r~ illiterate, r~cit~d on~ hundred and fifty 324 OUR LADY'S ROSARY ISater Nosters in~plhce'ofithe one.hundred hiid fi~ty psalms which were recited .in choir.as part ,of" the~DixCine O~ce. O~rig'in' and U~e of P~r B~ads use of One and the same prayer spon-a methqd Q( counting ~the number of p~ayers recited. At ~st ~e count was kept o~ one's fi~- gers. Then ~he Fathers of t~e ,Desert, following t~e example of St. Anthony, t~e F~rst Hermit, collected a.num-ber of pebbles and laid,them aside one by one as they recited t~e~r prayers. In the West th~ uAe of pebbles was soon replaced by gg~ins of bernes, seeds, bone,~or ~ood, ~attache~ to ~ach other by a cord. In~.the course of time such a string~of grains o~ beads was c~lled a paterno~ter~since it~ .~as. used ~o~t freq~e~ptly~ for the. recitation o~,,the Our Fath~r.~ .In ~be thirteenth centut~ the ~anufac~urers o~_ these,, articles. ,. ~ere known as paternosterersi and, almost everyx~here~ i~, Europe ~hey formed a recognized craft guild of consider. hble importante. P~,t3rnoster-Row in ~ondon preserves the memory of the strest in which th~.ngl~sh craft-fellows ~o~regated. That such beads ~ere in use in the ele~en~lf century is evident fr~ M~lmesbur~-who relates that the Countess Godiva bf Covehtry (circa 1075) left by w~l(to the ~statue of a certain_ monastery."the,,ci[clet 0f precious stones wfiich she. had.threaded on a cord in orderthat fin-gering them qne aft~ a~other Sh~ might count-tier, prayers exactly.'~ .The ._~ilit~rY ~orders, ~otably the. ~nights Templar of St. 3ohn, adopted the paternoster beads as p~art ~f.~he,e~uip~ent of hY members., The~e paternoster beads were also.,used ~by ,the laity in general and were,openly, carried as a s~gn~ of penance,, espdcia~ly bY b~nds of pilgrims who v~sited the ,shrines,~ churches, ~and other holy places, of Rome in procession: ~ : -" ~ 325 ADAM C. ELLIS Review/:or Religious "'Ave Maria" _or "'Hail Mary'" The .Hail Mary owes its'origin to certain pious persons who joined the words of the Angel Gabriel" with those of St. Elizabeth to form a greeti~ng and salutation in honor of the Mother of Christ, hence the name-"Angelic Salutation." It was .repeated many times in succession, accompanied by genuflections or some other.external acts of reverence. Thus a contemporary biographer of St. Albert (died 1140). tells us: "A hundred times a day he bent his knees, and fifty times he prostrated himself raising his body again by his fingers and toes, while he repeated at every genuflection: 'Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee, blessed art thou amongst women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb.' " This form constituted the whole of the Hail Mary as then said, and"the fact that all the. words are set down in this biography seems to imply that the formula had not yet become universally familiar. But by the end of the' twelfth century it was in common use in many parts~ of Europe. Pope Urban IV, who died in 1264, granted an indul-genc~ to all Who added the'words ",Iesus Christ, Amen" to the form quoted above. It was in this form that~Thomas ~ Kempis recited the Hail Mary at the ~nd of the thirteenth cent.ury. The second half of the Hail Mary begins to appear in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. St. gernardine of Siena added to the Angelic Salutation the words: "Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us.sinners;" And at the end of the fifteenth century, in an ordinance of the Arch-bishop of Mayence (1493) the longer formula, "Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us now and at the hour of our death, Amen" appears, perhaps for the first time. The complete form of the Hail Mary, as we have it .today, was included in the various breviaries used by the diocesan 326 September, 1946 OUR LADY'S ROSARY i~lergy and by the religious orders, though occasional ~light variations in form are found. This complete form is recommended b~r the Roman Catechism in 1566. It received final approval when Pope St. Pius V, in'the new edition of the Roman Breviary promulgated by him in 1568, ordered it to be recited by .all priests before the singl~ canonical hours, together with the Pater Noster. From tl~e breviary the complete form passed into general use ~amo~g the faith-ful. Rosary Beads As we saw above, the paternoster beads were used by the laity as a substitute for the Divine Office, and for this reason were sometimes called "the psalter of the laity." At the 'beginning bf the eleventh century, the custom was introduced of adding the angelic salutation to the Our Father, and for a while some of the clergy, religioias, and laity recited 50 or 150 Pater~ and Aves on the paternoster beads. Gradually thecustom of reciting 50 or 150 Aves only on the beads came into vogue, and it was probably this form of prayer which was popularized by St. Dominic at the suggestion of the Blessed Virgin. 'The Roman Breviary, in the fourth lesson for the Feast of the Most Holy Rosary, tells us ~hat when the Albigensian heresy was devastating the country of Toulouse, St. Dominic earnestly besought the help of Our Lady and Was instructed by her (so tradition asserts) to preach the Rosary among the people as an antidote to heres.y and sin. That this form of devotion was known before the birth of St. Dominic is clear especially from two sources. The first is the so-called "Mary-legends" according to one of wl~ich, ~ating bac~k to the early twelfth century, a client of Our Lady who had been wont to recite one hundred and fifty Ayes every day was bidden by her to say only fifty, but more slowly. Again 327 ADAM C. ELLIS Review for,Relioious iu~,the~'~twelfth centur¢ this form bf prayer was, recom-mended' to, the.: anchoresses of~ England-and practiced by. them, as aplSearg from the ancient Ancren Riwte which was written~abotit the middle of' the ~tw.elfth centur~y. In th~ course of:time the one.hundred and fifty beads ivhich the Ave'Maria was recited b~came distribute'd into decades~ or' seriesof ten, separated from one another by a large,grain or bead on which is r~cited a Pater Noster; and by the middle of th~ fourteenth century the use of such beads had spread rapidly. In 1469 Sixtus IV called these beads the "Psalter of Our Lady" and encouraged their u~e by grantin~ ind~ulgences. The° religious orders, notably,~, the Benedi~ctines, .t_he Cartbusians, and the.Dominicans, retaingd the use bf the b~ads made u~'~f fifteen dedades. But amon~th~e,faithful-the, o smaller beads o of. five decades., became;., popular., in¯ .~ the~ c~ourse ot~time~ The Gloria Patti .wa.s-added to each decade 9~n1~i in,~ the seventeentfi ce~n.tu~ry in Italy. The custorfi o~ reciting; the Creed, a Pater, and .three Aves a! the:beg!nnil~g of ther~s~ary, i~ l~udai~ie'; but it . is . not necessary for the g~ining of~any ind~t~lgences. It originated in Germany,'-fir~t by ~cii~i.n~ ,the Creed at the beginning, ~o ,w,bich was,a.d~$,d, about the middle Of tiae 18tb century~, a~ Pa~ter,,, and three Ayes for an increase in the three t.h,eo, logical~ virtues.-- faith, ho~e,o.~and cha~rity. In Spain a~d in Spanish spea.king countries, the Creed, Pater, and three Ayes are addedat the end of the rosary. Meditation on the. Mysteries ,.~ . Thus in its external form the rosary was established little by little; and' it was a long time bef0re.,the custom ~f meditating on the mysteries of Our Lord's ~ind Our Lady's' li~res.while saying it,was introduced.~ At the beginning of the fifteenth century a Carthusian of Wreqes is-~aid to have 328 September; 1946 OUR LADY'S ROSARY "first introduced into '~the: rosary a~mystery of. the-lives~of Jesus and Ma.ry by ~a, ddi~g,~some w~ord~ to the end of the first half .of the° Hail,Mar~;~. His "ros~ar~ ~as composed of-fifty, Ayes arid fifty mysteries. ~ ~s still done ~n Germany and other ~arts of the world today, the firstAve ran thus: ,.-Ha~l Mary, .full of .grace, the Lord.~s w th t~ee, blesped ar~ thou amongst )vomen, ~ndblessed ~s the frmtof thy womb, Jesus, whom, by the message qf.-the angel,~thou didst c0h: ce,ve of the Holy G~ost, Amen. Th~s innovation met w~th a hearty reception and was taken up by the faithful. ~]an ~ Rupe,,~ famous D6~nlcan preacher, CbmpoSed one hun-dr~ d ~and fif[y phrases one for each of t~e Aves of Mary s Psalter. Later these numerous mysteries were lessensd, an~ a~gq~ the year 1500 the Carthus~an Landsberger guid~.f0r the ~i~a~ion 0f ~e~r o~sary (of fi~e dec~des)' "in Wfii'ch ~e.ass~g;s'~o the:first ~tW~'decade~ the m~ditation on the p~incipal joys'6f'Mhry; for ~h~ twd fol10wing, the" meditafion on the sorrows of Jesus and.Mary; and f6r the fifth, ~he mgs~e~es of'the glor~ficatioff'~f Jesus and Mary. In 1483 we find a~'r~sary bf fifteen mYsterieso~ly~ne mys~er~6; ~each decade;" Und they c0rr~spond with Our present m~gtefies ~xqe~t for the ~last, which was the L~st Judgment instead of the Coronation of Our Lady. In~ 152:1 the D6minican, Albert 0~ Ca~tell6,:phbli'~hed ~in Italy his book 6nth~ Ro~afy.~ In it~he' indicates ,various ~ethods'6f'- saying ~he rosary; among others, that of the fifteeff teries in actual ~use today . ~ ~ In his Bu.lk0f September 17,: 1569, P0~e St.~Piu~°V for~he'first ~ti~e 0~ei~l~y~efitions meditad0n on tbe~li~s of~Chrb~'"~fi~::gf H~s M0~ber t0'~ be .m~de ~whiie :s~.in~.~th~ rosary-. ~:H~ states'.~Bat~.~p to tfiht't~me~med~tat~bn~on mysteries was not required; but he also a~rms tha~ from that d~y on'fifteen':Pat~rs ~with,dne hundred and fifty Ayes, distribute~,~in decades~ with ~editation on.rthefifteeh ~mys~ _ 329 ADAM C. ELLIS ~ Review for Religious teries, constitutes the rosary essentially. Indulgences for Saying the Rosary " The Official Collection of Indulgences, ,published by the Holy See in 1938 under the title Preces et Pia Opera lists the following indulgences which may be gained by .any Catholic who recites the rosary, even though the beads used are not blessed (No. 360) : 1. An indulgence of five years whenever a third part (five~decades) of the rosary is recited with devotion; " 2. An indulgence of ten years, once a day, whenever a third part of the rosary is recited in company with others, whether in public or in private; also a plenary indulgence on the last Sunday of each month, provided the rosary has been recited in common at least three times in any of the preceding:weeks; confession, Co~munion,'and a visit to a church or public oratory is also required to gain this plenary indulgence. 3. A plenary in~tulgence, on condition of confession and Communion, is granted to those who piously recite .a third part of the rosary in the presence of the Blessed Sacra-ment, either publicly exposed, or at least reserved in the tabernacle. Note one: The decades may be separated, provided the entire rosary (five or fifteen decades) is'said on one and the same day. Note tu~o: If, while reciting the rosary, the faithful are wont to use a pair of beads blessed by a. priest of the Order of, Preachers, or some "other priest having special faculties, they may gain other indulgences in addition t6 those enum-erated above. Thus far the Official Collection of Indul-gences. It may be well to mention here that ordinarily one can-not gain various indulgences attached.to one and the same 330 September, "1946 OUR LADY'S RO~ARY pious worl~ unless.one repeats the pious work for each indulgence. However, in virtue of a privilege granted by Pius X on Jurie 12, 1907, one may gain not only"the indul2 gences mentioned above but also the Dominican and the Crosier indulgences provided the beads have been specially blessed for these latter; and on February 17, 1922, Pius XI included .the Apostolic Indulgences. Jt would take too long to enumerate all the indulgences which may be attac.hed to rosaries by way of a special bles-sing. Suffice it tc; say here that the Dominican blessing enables one to gain 100 days indulgence for each Pater and Ave;j the Crosier indulgence, 500 days on. each bead. Conditions for Gaining Indulgences To gain the indulgences one must observe the following conditions: 1. One must hold a rosary in one's hand and tell the beads as the Aves are recited. This is the general rule. How-ever, if two or more persons recite the rosary in common, it suffices that one of them use a rosary to guide the recitation; but the others must abstain from all external occupation which would imp~d~ interior recollection and unite them-selves with him who holds the beads (S. Congregation of Indulgences, January 22, 1858). This condition was explained and mitigated by another rescript of the same S. Congregation (November 13, 1893) to mean that the faithful need not abstain from certain small manual tasks which are sometimes performed in .religious h6uses during the common recitation of the rosary, but only from those occupations which impede interior recollection. Even in the case of a person saying,his rosary by him-self, Pope Pius XI (October 20, 1933) "deigned to grant that, whenever either manual labor or some reasonable cause prevents the faithful from carrying in their hands 331 ADAM C. ELLIS Reoieto.[or Religio~s according to prescription, either, tbe-rosary,.'or,a crucifix which has been" blessed for the" g~iining of indulgences of l~he~.r6saby or,of ,the ~,rYray of the C, ross, the faithful ma'y gain. those indulge/aces, provided that, -during~ the recitation of the prayers in ttuestion., they carry with them in,any way,the rosary or crucifix " 2. One must m'editate On the mysteries of the rosary. This was first prescribed by Pope St. Pitis V, and was con-firmed by'Pope" Leo XIII in his Bull,on"theMost Holy Rosar~r (No. xiii). Hence. as Leo XIII~poiiated out, one must meditate on the mysteries prescribed,, not on other great truths, for example the four last things. Nor is, it sufficient to meditate on only one or two of these mysteries during the ~ecitation'of the entire ro~ary. " 'In order to'facilitate the m~ditati0n"on the mysti~ries of the rosary, the custom has been introduced of ari'/it3uncing bfiefl~r, eitlSer .bef~r~ eacl5 ide~ade; or~ after the' firsv?part of each Hail Ma~y/the-mystery of tha( decade.~ Both methods aye usi~ful; 15iat'.'. fleitlSer :is- fiecessi~ty ~f6r gaining~the indul-geflces, ~in~eito~uffices to¯ c6flsider ~h~ m-~csteries ~mentally. " Pope Be~aedict'X~I:I in hi~s coh~ti~ution Pret[osius, ~May 26, .1 727, de~lares that. Simple,pers0ns wtio are incapable m~ditati.rig off the myste'ries 'fiaay conthrit themsel~c~s with the deVou[ reditation of the ro,sa~y in. °order to giin th~ indtilg~rice's: he "adds, nevertheless," hi~-ex'p~ess ffish°th~tt such persons ~raduaily~fbrm the habit.,of meditatin'~ on hol~ mys~fies?ofoOur Redee~e~r-and6f His Bl~sed M6ther'~ con formably" to the purigose of the rosary." In: practice,' a - sincere effort t6 meditate; even if the effort fails, suffices ~ to gain the indulgences." For~ the gainiiig ~f~th~ Crosier/and Brigittine. indulgences, meditation on the mysteries is not required. . " ¯. -Among' the faithful who ,recite the ,rosary of five decades every day the custom has established itself of medi- 332 September, 1946 OUR LADY'S ROSARY tating°ori the joyous mysteries on Monday and Thursday; oh the sorrowful rdysteries on Tuesday and Friday; and'on the .glorious. mysteries on Sunday, Wednesday and Satur-. day. During!Advent one ,may meditate on the joyful mys-teries on Sunday~, -during Lent on the sorrowful mysteries~ 3. Thebeads Used must be of solid material,, not easily broken, Otherwise indulgence~ may not be attached to them. Glass or crystal beads may be used, provided they are solid an~d compact, (S.~ Apostolic Penitentiary, ,December 21, 1925)" The indul~gCriees'~ are~attached to the grains or beads, not to the' cbainor cord which-holds them together. Hence a pair of beads may be restrung in any order without losing 4ts indulgences. A broken bead or two may replaced from-time to time, since the indulgences are put on the beads of the rosary as a whole. Our Lad~t'~s Garland of Roses The word "rosary" means a garland, wreath, or crown of roses. An early legend, which spread over all of Europe and penetrated even-to Abyssinia, connects this name with a story of Our Lady who was seen to take rosebuds from the lips~.of~ a youpg monk, when he was reciting Hail Marys, a~nd to weave them into a garland which she placed uppn her head. Devo.ut clients of Mary like to think that the five joyful mysteries constitute a garlan.d of white roses for Our Lady, the ~sorrowful mysterigs .a garland of °red roses, and the .glorigus mys.t.eri~es a garland o~ g.olden roses. -, .LAndiOur ,Lad~r ha~ show.nher"appreciation.of this devo-tion ~y giv. ing,o,her:protection,to.the Church, at large as well as to~individual memb~rs.ino:every walk¯ of ,life. ,.P0pe St: Plus V-~.~ttributed to her. inter~ession~.~gained, through the public recitation-6f th~ rbsary, by rhembers~of the.~R-osary Confraternity marching through~th,e:,streets ofoRome;, the gte~at~,v, ictory~.0f~ the ~Chtistian forces ino:,the" Battle of ADAM C. ELLIS Review for Religious Lepanto. This battle, in" which~the sea power of the Turks was brok'~n forever, was fought on the first Sunday in October, 1571. In gratitude for the victory, ,,the Pope ordered that a CommemOration" of the Rosary be made each, year on that day. Two years later, Pope Gregory XIII, at tl-ie request 0f the Dom_inican Order, allowed the ,feast to be celebrated in all churches which possessed an altar dedicated to the Hol.y Rosary. Similarly, after the great land victory over the Turks at Temesvar in Hungary on August 5, 1716 (the feast of Our Lady Of the Snows),.,Pope Clement XI ordered that the feast of-the Most Holy Rosary should be celebrated throughout the Universal Church, since the v.ictory was attributed to °the recitation of the rosary by the whole Christian world, as ordered by the Pope, to invoke Our Lady's aid in behalf of the Christian troops. When Our Lady'appeared to Bernadette at Lourdes and -to the children at Fatima. it was not by chance°that she held a rosary in her hands and taught them to recite it, telling them that she would bring peace to the world and to the hearts of herdevout clients'if they practiced the"de~cotion of the.Rosary. Today the Turks are no longer besieging the ramparts of Christendom, but a more "formidable enemy, modern pagan civilization, is threatening not only the Church at large but the hearts of her individual chil-" dren. Hence the need of an enthusiastic revival of the devotion of Our Lady's Rosary. Religious can contribute their share to this revival by renewing their fervor in regard to this devotion, and by inspiring their charges, young and old, with a love for Our Lady's Rosary., To attain this objective, it is .suggested that the various letters' and writings of Pope Leo,XHI on the devotion to the Rosary be read in the refectory or for spiritual reading during the month of October. They have been collected and edited in 334 Septernb~er, 19 4 6 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS English by "Father William Raymond Isawlor, O.P., and are pub!isB~d by tile St.~Anthony Guild Press, Pate~s~on, New 3erse~: Tile beautiful ,encyclical letter of Pope Plus XI on the Rosa'r~y "i-nay also be-read with p~r0fi~.,~ It appeared in-an English translation ifi the Catholic Mind, November 8.1-9 3 7., -.Our eonsfitutiohs state: "In order that~ they be valid, confessions of ~ellcjious women mus:f be made in a place lawfully deslcjnated for the con-fesslons of women.~'- What. is the superior to do if the retreat master orders that all the confessions will ~be heard in the parlor because of the long hours required for.the many retreatanfs? The statement quoted from your constitutions refers only ~to con~. fessions of religious women made to a priest who has no special faculties to hear the confessions~of religious women. The retreat master, like the.ordinary?and extraordinary confessor, u.sually receives special faculties from the l~ocal ordinary to hear the confessions of the community to which he is to give the'retreat. Hence, as ~ar as the place is concerned, he can hear these confessions oalidly anywhere, But for the licitness of such confessions the place must be one approved for hearing the confessions of women._ Ordinarily the superior may take it for grarfted that the retreat master has obtained permission from the local ordinary to hear con-fessions in the-parlgr during the retreat if he states that he will hear the confessions there.- Should any serious doubts arise abbut the matter, they should be referred to the local ordinary. °3' May a reh~;ous put aside moriey, in the keepin~j of the superior tO be used as an offerln~ for a~ number of Masses to be sa~d' for her May the~ s6perlor general allow Sisters who have received money gifts on the occasion" of their golden jubilee to deposit a part of the money ¯ received with')he tre~surer°inrorder'~o ha\~e Masses sald-for themselves 335 QUESTIONS 'AND ANSWER~ ~S~ Review [or Religio~ aff_er, their death? M~n9 of these Sisters~ rio ,Ionggr~ h.age reJaf~lve~ who would,.;n a!l char!fy, haye the Masses said ~r fh~ [~pose of their .souls. ~ @hough received from different sources, we ~ve, put these two questions t0g~thel, ~i~ce they deal wi~h ~e k~mg~-'~u~jd~t: They differ only with r~gard to 'the source from ~hich the money for the stipend is ~derivgd. ~ ~ To begin wiih: unless the constitutions forbid it, a religious superior may allow her subjects to use small gifts for Mass stipends without any violation of poverty. If this can be done during life, there seems to be no reason why such sums may not be put aside for a fium~er of Masses to be said after the Sister's'death. The prescriptions o~ common life must alsb be considered in this matter. This requires that ordinarily the same permission would be granted tb all the Sisters;u~der the same dircumstances. For instance, it shofild ~e undelstoodthat this permission Wo~Id~ be~ given~tb all jubilarians. Or; ~n ohr first case,-t~e shperior must~be willing t0 allo~,all ~the~istdrs to set aside small~giftsuntil the required amount is reached. All such sums,df'm0ney, should be:d~posited with the treasurer"acCording tb~the regulations of the superior: " ~0~, ~'ln."Qhesqlons and~Answers'~ ~fo~ March, 1946, you slated~ thaf reli- ~i0us I;~;ng~ ih commdnffy ~ay ~alny~he lfidulgen~es ~f the ~onfrafernff~ of the~MosfHolyr Rog~ry, includlng~the tofies quofies~ indul~enc6~ on~ Rosa~ Sunday, by making the visits in thei~ o~n ¢bmmuhffy Chapel, provided they are enr611ed in ~the ~onfr~t~rnit~. ~hls dbes not seem fo bein-con, formity with a reply given by the~Sacre8 Penffegfiary on ~ovember 20, 1923. Please explaln. " ":~ Whe~ the ~nswer referred to above was written, it was based upo~ a,b~ief- dat~ August 1 1, 1871, and on a~escript d~ed~February 8, 1874, gr~ntin~ the privilege mentioned, to me~bers~ of the'Con-fraternity of the Most Holy Rosary. ~ We: mus~, co-bless-that the answer of the Sacred Penitentiary given on November 20, ]92~ escaped us. ~hile it is true that [~is was a private answer which ~as never publishe~ in th~ ~cta ~postoffcae Sedis, the o~cial organ of.the Holy Se~, still from the nature of the reply we most ~oncIude that i~ -is binding upon all, not merely upon those to whom the answer~ was given. This is ~the opinion of Roman canonists who ~ere con-sulted. " For'the benefit of our reade~K, w~ give ~the question propose~ to the Sacred Penitentiary in 1923, together with its teply: 336 September, 1946 .~ Q~/ESTIONS AND ANSWERS "Question: Do ~vords bf such a general import (that is, the privilege of gaining albindulgences in one's owri chapel) ,apply also to the toties quoties indulgence which may be gained on" the feast of the Most Holy-Rosary~ by,thosE visiting 'an image of the Blessed Virgin Mary exposed in a.church in-which the confraternity is canonically erected ? Reply: In the -negative." However; thos~ religious mentione~d above who are impeded from visiting such a church (becauseoof physical or moral disability) may ask ,their confessor ~to commute ~,the required visit to the specified church ,so that"they;-may- make the visit in.their own chapel (Code Commission, 3an. 19/1940): -, ¯ Has ~e Church granted ,an indulgence to relicjious for'the renew.al" of their, vows after receiving Holy Communion? +,Yes.~ On-Ai6ril !0, 1937~; the. Sacred Penitentia.ry granted~ an indulgence of-three years ~'to religious ~ of any order or congregation "who,. after offering the0H61y Sacrifice of the M~ss or after receiv!ng H61WCommunion privately renew their vows at least with a contrite heart." (Preces et Pia Opera, n. 695). ~33~ . May the profits from the sale of stationery and religious articles in a convent school be used to help students who seem to have a religious vocation to finish their education and to provide them with a froi~sseau ~and money for the trip fo the novltlafe? In either case the profits do not revert to the religious community, but actually go back to the students, though not to all of them. St_ill, if the other students are informed that the profits will be u.sed for_ these purposes, and if they do not object, the practice seems to be' permissible;o ¯ - ¯ May the profits of a school store be used fo buy refeE~nce book's, duplicat=ors;'and the like for the use of teachers in that school? May.they be ~pplled for correspondenc~ courses for the religious teacffers,~ especially when.the salaries'of these teachers are, not sufficient tO cover .the expenses for s~ch courses? (There i~ question here only of schools~ that. are :not owned .by rife Sisters themselves, but are'owned by~ the p,~rlsh or the dlo-cese. o ' ° 337 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Reoieto for Religious Since reference books, duplicators, and the lik'e are normal schbol equ'ipinent, they should be supplied to teachers by the school, and they remain the property of the school. Hence there can be no objection~(o using the profits of the school store for such items. Regarding the use of'such profits~to pay for correspondence courses for the religious t~achers, a distinction must be made. If these courses ate requi~ed by the,state law or by particular local circumstances to maintain the standing of,the religious teachers in the school in which they are now teaching, then the profits of the book store may be used for that purpose since such special courses may be regarded as a. part of the expense of running the school. By such use the profits are equivalently returned to the pupils, inasmuch as their teachers are better prepared to serve them in the class room in conformity with local regulations. If, however, these courses are intended merely for the personal improvement of the individual religious, the profits~of the book store may not be used to pay. for them, since the religious congregation has the obligation to provide for .~uch'courses. We suppose that the religious teachers are receiving an adequate salary. If the salaries of the religious teachers are not adequate, and the pastor tells them to use the profits of the book store as a supplement to their salary, then such profits" may be used by the religious teachers for any purpose whatsoever since they constitute a part of their salary. ~35~ Can ordinary flour, that is, the same kind of flour "l'ha'l" is used for baking bread, be used for making altar breads? What percent of wheat stated by the company would be valid for this purpose? How can one determine whether this flour has the ricjht amount of Whea~? The principles concerning valid and lawful matter for consecra-tion are found in dogmatic theology, canon law, and certain instruc-tions issued by the Holy See, p~irticularly an instruction issued by the Sacred Congregation of the Sacraments on March 26, 1929 (cf. AAS 21-'631; Canon Law Digest I, p. 353). From these sources we draw the following conclusions concerning the material, for making altar breads: 1. To be certainly valid and lawful material for consecration, altar breads must be made of pure wheat baked with water. 2. If another substance is mixed with the wheat to such an extent that bread made from the mixture would no longer be 338 September, 1946 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS monly considere~d as wheat bread (for example, if the other substance would be of a quantity equa! to or greater than the wheat)-, this bread is.certainly not valid matter for consecration. 3': If another substance is~mixed with the wheat in a notable, .~hough .not an equal, quantit~,.'the br~ad is:to be ~considered~ dubious matter for consecration and is therefore not to b'e used. - 4. 'If only a slight quantity of some othe_r substance.is mixed with the wheat, the bread is.v.alid, but not lawful, matter for conse-o cration. ~. 5. Th£se who make altar breads should either make the flour themselves or should have some means of being sure that the. flour they procure is made of pure ~vheat.o ~- 6. Those who procure altar breads from others should take .appropriate means of knowing that the makers .of the altar breads are above suspicion and can safely certify that the altar bread~.are made of pure wheat. The foregoing are principles; and we can state them without \ hesitation. But we are hOt'equally prepared to answer the practical points brought;out by our correspondent. The editors have-fried to get some information concerning the contents of ordinary flour, but the information thus far obtained is too vague to serve as the basis for answering the questions. We shall continue to try to get reliable information; but it has occurred to us that in the meantime we might get much valuable information from some of our readers who make, altar breads. Hence, we should like to throw this question "open to the house." Can any of our readers supply us with helpful details concerning such points as the contents of ordinary flour and how to be sure one is getting pure wheat flour? Please send the informatign immediately, as we wish to publish it in our next number. '1646 Saint Isaac Josues Saint CRene ~oupil (164~2) Saint John l~alande 1946 339 THE MYSTERIES OF CHRISTIANITY~ ~ByM. ~J. Scheeben. Tr~nshted by Cyril ¥ollert.-S.J. ,, Pp. ix ~- ,834.,~ ~B. ,Herder, Book Company, It isn't often that~ comprehensive study of dogmatic theology appears in. the English l~inguage, arid much rareP still 'that such work addresses itself to the widest circles of the reading publ~ic, religious, lay, and secular. .,The work now appdaring in a crisp, moder~ English translation was first published in Germany in 1865, and was repeatedly~judged by stich competent seholars as Msgr. Martin Grabmann, Dora L. 3anss~ns, O.S.B.,~and-/~/. M:. Weiss':O.P., as (the Words are those of the last-named), '"'Ehe'rmost: origihal, profound and" brilliant work that recent [nineteenth century] theology has produced." " ~Time Yeas when °the very word th'eol6gical would deter all but tlid 15retlirdn of that ¢r~ft~°from reading, a work. Fortunately that da~r ~s~ passing: and the~non-theologians ~in ever'-greater numbers ar~ treatin~g themselves to the satisfying (and Sanctifying)." experience.' of learning m~,re about the doctrines ot~ theft faith.-~ The ~vieWer: orice encountered a" high-sch6~61~"gifl' ~eading~:athe'r' Ricl~i~by'~ tr~hslati6n of St, Thomas' Cor~tra Get, tiles., Oh being a~l~ed ho~ ~he liked it, she fe151ie~ v~iffi zest: "Oh, there's a lot~in it I don'toundefstand, but wh~t I, d6 ~n~/erstand, I really like!''~ In similar fashion readers of this,Scheeben w~ll find sections they will grasp.but vaguely, for mys-terids aremyster~e~ still .even to the theologically schooled; but they will gratefully go on tsoe'c't~io n"s thrilling ii~ their understandable depth and brilliance: ~ ~ -~ " It w, as the author's aimto deal directly 9nly with the most mys-terious phases of the Christian revelation, and to show how those great wellsprings of verity, when c6nsulted in succession, illumine and illustrate each other. He shows, for example, how the com-munication of the Divine Nature,in the proce_ssions of the Holy Trin-ity is the model, so to say, for the Incarriation of the Word, and how this communication projects the interior life'-streams of the Trinity into the external world of creation. -Man's-primordial integrity and original sanctity is seen to be the four~datio~i for the Godward devel-opment of created rational nature; but the awful drama of sin ("an ineffably great sin" as Augustine said) intervenes and leads in turn '- 340 BOOK REVIEWS~ to.~the detail~d)study of the ~r~atest revelation~ of all, Gbd~great pla.n of redeeming the slave by delFcering~up the Son.~of His love; in whom the.Fat~i~r ',~sees His own' image in a man" (p.~358). ~ ¯ ~_ ' The allur{ng presentation of redemption is straightway follbwed by its fullest realizatio.n,,the Holy, Eucharist. ¯ "Therefore the sig-nificance 'of the Eucharist comes to this;,- that the real union of.~.the Son of'God.with all men is ratified, completed, and sealed in it, a.nd that men are perfectly incorporated in'Him in,the most intimate, real. and substantial manner" (p: 482). " The section on the C~urch is a cogent handlin~ of that _now promin~.nt, doctrine of the Mystical Body, while that on .the_ Sacra-ments is focussed and~ sharpened by a~masterful essay on the. sacra, mental character, But such section-h~adings and short quotations do .s~cant ~ustice to the dept~h~ ar~d~: brilliance of the author's treatme, nr. This is a volume that will be gratefully received and pondered, for dt. enlarges our app~raisal of that pearl of.great price, ours since baptism,. our Catholic faith. I allow myself on~eomore sampling of the.styl~:i "The enlightened Christian need envy no one but ~th~ blessed in heax;enoon account of the ~ficidity, the depth, and the fullness of. their~ k~wledge.~But the same faith ~s that in which we a_~ticipate their. vision holds out to US ~he sure promise that its imperfections and_ obsc'urity will vanish if, ~ollowing its directions, we strive devotedly and persevering.ly.'to reach its divine object. Faith is the prophet within -~ur ~very spir~it, presaging t.he full unveiling of the mysteries oP God, the morning star o~ the da~i of eternity, the bread of.our child-hood in the kingdom of God, which rears us to the maturity of:.the wisdom of Christ" (p. 796.) GERALD ELLARD, S.,J. MAJ~OR TRENDS IN AMERICAN CHURCH HISTORY. By Francis X. Curran, S.J. Pp. xvili -]- 198. The America Press, New York, 1946. $2.so. Most readers of this REVIEW will be interested in Father Curran's sprightly volume, which might be described as a thumb-nail history° of Christianity in the United States. The author was interested in contrasting the steady "fi~suring" of the multiple non-Catholic sects with the continued expansion in our country of Catholic Chris-- tianity~ "Why has the Catholic Church in America the preeminent posii~ion it now holds? Could it have acquired strength, if it were unsuited to American conditions, if it were not as truly American as \it is Catholic?'" (pp. xiv, xv.) BOOK. REVIEWS Re

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

RAPE AND SHAME IN J.M. COETZEE'S DISGRACE Salman Muhiddin English Literature, Faculty of Languages and Arts, Surabaya State University salmanlatieff@gmail.com Drs. Much. Khoiri, M.Si English Department, Faculty of Languages and Arts, Surabaya State University much_choiri@yahoo.com Abstrak Pemerkosaan adalah setiap tindakan yang tidak diinginkan , manipulasi atau pemaksaan dalam bentuk aktivitas seksual. Tindakan pemerkosaan berdampak bagi pemerkosa dan korbannya. Dampaknya terhubung ke masalah psikologis , seperti kecemasan , depresi , dan gangguan mental lainnya serta perilaku moral yang bermasalah. Skripsi ini difokuskan pada tindak perkosaan yang dialami oleh karakter dan bagaimana hal itu menyebabkan rasa malu dalam novel Disgrace karya JM Coetzee. Secara khusus, tujuan skripsi ini adalah untuk mendeskripsikan bagaimana gambaran perkosaan yang dialami oleh karakter dan untuk mengungkapkan bagaimana perkosaan itu menyebabkan rasa malu dalam novel Disgrace karya J.M. Coetzee. Dalam analisisnya, skripsi ini menggunakan beberapa proses analisis , yaitu: (1) mengklasifikasikan kutipan-kutipan yang sejalan dengan masalah laporan, (2) menggambarkan tindakan perkosaan yang telah dialami oleh karakter, (3) mengungkapkan bagaimana pemerkosaan menyebabkan malu. Hasil analisis menunjukkan bahwa ada tiga macam pemerkosaan yang digambarkan dalam cerita. Pemerkosaan pertama terjadi antara David dan pekerja seks bernama Soraya. Pemerkosaan kedua terjadi antara David dan muridnya, Melanie. Yang ketiga dialami oleh putri David, Lucy. Setelah pemerkosaan itu, pelaku dan korban perkosaan merasa malu. David sebagai pemerkosa mendapatkan aib dan tekanan publik dari komite universitas dan mahasiswanya. Dia kemudian meminta maaf kepada keluarga Melanie. Sedangkan korban akan merasa malu untuk tampil di publik karena mereka takut aibnya terbongkar. Kata Kunci: Pemerkosaan, Malu, Aib Abstract Rape is any unwanted, manipulated or coerced forms of sexual activity. The act of rape has an impact to both the rapists and the rape survivors. The impact is connected to psychological problems, such as anxiety, depression, and other mental disorders as well as problematic moral behaviour. This study focuses on the characters' experience in raping and being raped, and how it leads to shame in J.M. Coetzee's Disgrace. In particular, the purpose of this study is to describe how rape is depicted by the characters and to reveal how the characters' rape leads to shame in J.M. Coetzee's Disgrace. In the analysis, this study does some processes of analysis, they are: (1) classifying the quotations which are in line with the problem of statements, (2) describing the rape that has been experienced by the characters, (3) revealing how rape leads to shame. The result of the analysis shows that there are three kinds of rape which is depicted in the story. The first rape is happened between David and the prostitute named Soraya. The second rape is between David and his student, Melanie. The third one is experienced by David's daughter, Lucy. After the rape, the rapist and the rape survivors get shame. David is getting disgrace and gets public pressure from the university committees and the students. He then ask for apologize to Melanie's family. While the rape survivors are getting shame after being raped. They are shame to make a public appearance because they are afraid of being discovered or found out by another person. Keywords: Rape, Shame, Disgrace INTRODUCTION The definition of rape varies state-to-state and can include anything from touching to actual penetration, but, generally, rape is any "unwanted, non-consensual, manipulated or coerced forms of sexual activity" (http://www.umich.edu). The act may be carried out by physical force,coercion, abuse of authority or against a person who is incapable of valid consent, such as one who is unconscious, incapacitated, or below the legalage of consent.The termrapeis sometimes used interchangeably with the termsexual assault, and the term of violent change into rape survivor. The rape effects can include both physical trauma and psychological trauma. Rape will also lead to shame. The feeling is connected to psychological problems such as eating disorders, substance abuse, anxiety, depression, and other mental disorders as well as problematic moral behavior. The shame is also reformed from some culture that sees the rape victims are dirt. For example, a rape victim especially one who was previously a virgin, may be viewed by society as being damaged. According to Alliance, victims in these cultures may suffer isolation, be disowned by friends and family, be prohibited from marrying, and be divorced if already married, or even killed. This phenomenon is known as secondary victimization. Secondary victimization is the re-traumatization of the sexual assault, abuse, or rape victim through the responses of individuals and institutions. Rape also affects the rapist. If someone known as a rapist he will be the public enemy. The rapist may lose their dignity, job, and friends. Punishment for rape in most countries today is imprisonment. Thus he will get ashamed but the right term for rapist is disgrace. On the previous study Feminine Shame Masculine Disgrace, Nurka put little bit different from shame, "people with disgrace will automatically being shame. Disgrace is brought from without ('put to shame'), or is directed outward from its source ('a person who or thing which is the cause or source of disgrace')." (Nurka, 2012: 311). J.M. Coetzee is a South African writer born under the apartheid government. Coetzee is unveiling many fragile topics in South Africa from many of his books. He elegantly put the theme rape over the race to depict the social condition of 'New South Africa'. Rape of women by men has occurred throughout recorded history and across cultures. As the novel background, South Africa is often labeled the rape capital of the world. The prevalence of rape, and particularly multiple perpetrator rape, is unusually high. Coetzee puts the concept of rape and shame in novel 'Disgrace'. The narrative follows a white South African professor's, David Lurie, escape to his daughter's farm, after he raped his student, Melanie. The farm is soon attacked and robbed by three black men, and the daughter raped. As father and daughter piece together their strained relationship and individual lives, they must reconcile their positions in the "New South Africa," to Lucy, is gang-raped by three men on her smallholding in the Eastern Cape, but she chose to say nothing about what happened to her. She decided to take the shame on her own. While on David, he rents a room in Grahmstown to help his daughter at the market once a week and to dedicate himself to the disposal of the dogs' bodies at the shelter. He cannot back to Cape Town because he has nothing left there for his disgrace. The university had replaced him with another professor. Once he went to Melanie house bring up all his disgrace to ask for forgiving to her parents for what he did through Melanie and family. In accordance of background study above, it can be simplify to discuss among two problems that emerge as significant concern toward this novel. How rape is depicted by the characters in J.M. Coetzee's Disgrace? How the characters' rape leads to shame in J.M. Coetzee's Disgrace? To answer the first problem, this study uses the concept of rape. Rape is a multidetermined behaviour that will ultimately be explained only by models incorporating a multitude of dimensions." (Prenkty and Knight, 1991: 657). The dimensions that are possibly to explain rape are through feminist theory, evolutionary theory, self-controlled theory, narcissistic theory, and crime theory. (Lowell, 2010: 159-161). Those theories can be used to help explain how rape occurs. Feminist theorists explain that the culture of male dominance is responsible for rape occurring. On his book Rethinking Rape, Cahill simply delivered that feminist theorists assert that rape is only one symptom of the larger problem of a male dominated society. Feminist theorists see rape as more of a violent act than a sexual act, and claim that rape is inspired by political motivations to dominate and degrade. Feminist theorists also deny that rape has an individualistic nature, but claim that rape is "nothing more or less than a conscious process of intimidation by which all men keep all women in a state of fear" (Cahill, 2001:16). Self control theory can lead to a man committing rape against a female. It is based on the premise that the male sex drive is uncontrollable. Men with this belief say that their sexual urges cannot be controlled and they are not responsible for their actions. Proponents of this theory "[propose] both that men's sexual energy is difficult to control and that women have a key role in its loss of control," since women deny sex to men who have to relieve their sexual drive (Polaschek & Ward, 2002, p. 13). This theory can be tied to Gottfredson and Hirschi's low self-control theory. Low self-control theorists posit that, since criminal acts provide immediate gratification, criminals will engage in them because they are not able to defer gratification. A biological explanation of rape includes Thornhill and Palmer's evolutionary theory of rape .Proponents of this theory claim that those men who were able to force their sexual desires on women were able to reproduce more efficiently, and thus have more offspring with their traits. Thornhill and Palmer are "dismissive of rape theories that emphasize the role of culture and learning in the acquisition of rape-prone traits, arguing that culture is only possible because individuals have evolved capacities that enable them to learn" (Siegert & Ward, 2002:6). Another theory that can explain rape is the narcissistic reactance theory, which is also tied to Gottfredson and Hirschi's (1990) low self-control theory. In this theory, narcissists are defined as having a "lower proneness to shame and guilt," having "unrealistically positive self-evaluations," and being "especially likely to respond to bad evaluations by blaming other sources, including the evaluator and the technique of evaluation" (Baumeister et al., 2002: 3). These theorists claim that the, "tendency to respond to esteem threats by getting angry and blaming others may contribute to the elevated level of interpersonal difficulties that narcissists report" (Baumeister et al., 2002: 4). The second problem is using the concept of shame. Some victims of rape are feeling dirty, devalued, and humiliated as a result of a sexual assault. Feelings of shame are often related to the powerlessness and helplessness victims experience during a sexual assault. Shame may also be a reaction to being forced by the assailant to participate in the crime. Shame is the painful feeling of having done or experienced something dishonourable, improper and foolish. Shame is what prevents many survivors from speaking about what happened to them. Shame is an attack on the survivor as a person. It is the feeling you get when you are sure that someone will think poorly of you because you were assaulted. Shame is longer lasting, and ultimately more dangerous than guilt. The feeling of shame is so intense for rape victims that many of them never tell anyone what happened to them. Even in psychotherapeutic settings, victims of rape often avoid talking about what happened to them. (http://www.healthyplace.com/abuse/articles/guilt-and-shame-of-being-raped/, retrieve on: 15 April 2014). Shame is already bears the germ of guilt. Shame becomes guilt when the social norms are internalized as one's own feelings of value and when self-condemnation anticipates public exposure. This presupposes the development of a personal centre, with the beginning capacity to regard oneself as the originator of one's actions, to evaluate and feel responsible for them. In contrast to shame, guilt is no more bound to the immediate presence of the other; its impact is more lasting. The event one is to be blamed for sin in the past. Thus the present rejection of shame becomes the already executed expulsion of elementary guilt. Instead of being exposed to, and paralyzed by, the others' gazes, the culprit feels, as it were, already abandoned. (Thomas Fuchs, 2003: 8). RESEARCH METHOD Research method that used in this analysis here must be qualified as an applying in literary appreciation. The thesis is regarded as a descriptive-qualitative study and uses a library research. This study uses novel of J.M. Coetzee, entitled Disgrace that published by Vintage, Random House, 20 Vauxhall Bridge Road, London, Great Britain, 1999 as the main data of the study. The data are in the form of direct and indirect speech of the characters, dialogues, epilogues and quotations which indicate and represent aspect of rape by the characters that lead to shame. This thesis is using the library method in collecting the data. It does not use the statistic method. That is why it is not served in numbering or tables. Library research used an approach in analyzing this study. The kind of library research which is used here is intensive or closely reading to search quotations or phrases. It also used to analyze the literary elements both intrinsic and extrinsic. The references are taken from library and contributing ideas about this study from internet that support the idea of analyzing. The analysis is done by the following steps: (1) Classification based on the statement of the problems. This classification is used to avoid the broad discussion. There are two classifications in this study. They are the depiction of rape and how it leads to shame. (2) Describing David Lurie's and Lucy's rape which is stated from the quotations or statements. (3) Describing how the shame and disgrace they got which is stated from the quotations or statements. (4) Revealing the relations between rape and shame. The quotations that showed how the characters' rape leads to shame are taken as data. (5) Drawing the conclusion based on the analysis which is in line with the problems. ANALYSIS The first analysis is the depiction of rape. In Disgrace the rape parted in three different background and motif. The first rape is from David to Soraya the prostitute woman. David uses his financial advantages to buy woman for sex. After the relationship with Soraya ended David engage to a scandal with his Student Melanie. David admits that he misused his authority as a lecturer to have sex with his student. This depicts the condition of male domination particularly in South Africa. The last rape happened to David's' daughter, Lucy. She raped by three black African intruders. The rape of Lucy remains mystery for her silence to not tell the policemen about the incident. In his age of fifty two, and divorced, David proclaim that he has solved problem of sex rather well even without a wife. However, the reason of his 'solved problem of sex' for over one year is Soraya, a high-class prostitute girl from an escort service. She is a coloured woman that David has a historical interest. She has a honey brown body. She is tall and slim, with long black hair and dark, liquid eyes. Simply said this beautiful girl becomes his sources of happiness. "It surprises him that ninety minutes a week of a woman's company are enough to make him happy, who used to think he needed a wife, a home, a marriage" (Coetzee, 1999:5). David's ideal marriage is with a wife that is a prostitute, but for him only and only at certain times. He met Soraya only on Thursday. On the other day he is back to his normal life. With Soraya he already find the happiness he belief. It makes him thought; there is no need to search for another life destination such as home and real wife. It made David rely on prostitution in his sexual life. Prostitution as the solution allows him to fantasize that a woman mirrors his wishes. He bought sex he wanted and she got extra money from him. For David money is no problem concerning that he lived alone with his salary as a professor and lecturer. As a consequence, he paid double for her. At least his money is worthy for finds her entirely satisfactory. As a customer, David is on dilemma seeing this prostitution. He knows that every woman in the prostitution is perforce. Women in prostitution would leave if they could. The term is an indicator of their hopelessness. "They tell stories, they laugh, but they shudder too, as one shudders at a cockroach in a washbasin in the middle of the night" (Coetzee, 1999:8). In their mind, they see that women in prostitutes are disgusted with their customer, so does the customers. Soraya just pretended to keep their customer satisfied. Prostitutes sometimes talk of the feeling of power they experience when they are with their customer. They are talking about a feeling of control when engaged in sexual acts. They soon feel the disadvantages of that particular way of life. It also exposes the fragility of the illusion of control over what another subject wants. If a man wants a woman to want what he wants, he can only force her to pretend to want his desire and then he has also to deny that pretence. David then met Melanie, his student. He treats her under the wine and romantic music, the Mozart clarinet quintet. He made his move to seduce Melanie in some conversation. He talked about poetry, music, food, and his past life. Then, after he offered some liqueur, the higher alcoholic drink, he said directly to Melanie, asking her to do something reckless. He touch her and said "You're very lovely . Stay. Spend the night with me." (Coetzee, 1999: 16). Melanie refused his liquor but accept a shot of whisky in her coffee. She should say no at that time instead wonder and ask why. She trapped to this conversation: 'Why?' 'Because you ought to.' 'Why ought I to?' 'Why? Because a woman's beauty does not belong to her alone. It is part of the bounty she brings into the world. She has a duty to share it.' (Coetzee, 1999: 16) As a professor of language and communication, David, could easily manipulate the words, he says. The way he talked to Melanie reflects his experience through many women. "Smooth words, as old as seduction itself." (Coetzee, 1999: 16). He says it indirectly to make Melanie believes what he belief. He makes the statement so convincing and become hard to decline. Melanie herself was mistaken to ask more to David, because she did not know how to deal with him. Instead saying 'why', she should say 'no' to David when he asked her to stay. So she would not get in this complicated situation. Maybe she should already say 'no' when David asked her to come to his house. David was in a grip of something and he would not let it go. However, what is done is done. The next day David asked Melanie to go lunch. Again, Melanie cannot reject David offer. There is still time for her to tell a lie but she is too confused, and the moment passes. In the restaurant, they got an awkward situation because Melanie lost her appetite and there was a long silent. Then David asked to Melanie about what is on her mind: `Is something the matter? Do you want to tell me?' She shakes her head. `Are you worried about the two of us?' `Maybe,' she says. `No need. I'll take care. I won't let it go too far.' Too far. What is far, what is too far, in a matter like this? Is her too far the same as his too far? (Coetzee, 1999: 19) After the harassment from David a day before, Melanie must wonder about his plan. The women should worry about her safety. Because feminist, Cahill, agree that one of the rape purpose is to take women into state of fear, and it is he responsibility of masculinity and the construction of patriarchy. Men are possible to keep women as a fragile creature and need protection. Knowing that Melanie may feel bad about this situation, David guarantees that the thing would not go too far, he put Melanie to feel safe at least. This is another tactical seduction that is done by David. He manipulates the situation and manages it like there is nothing happen like everything is fine. It is not hard for him to do it concerning that Melanie was an easy target for him. The rapist always seeks the powerless people to be his target. Finally, they have sex for the first time. Even though, it is not the first time for both of them. David took Melanie to his house after getting lunch in the restaurant. They did it on the living room with rain sound pattering. Melanie is passive on the first time they have sex. While David finds the act of her passivity is so enjoyable. Melanie is passive like Soraya. She does not crawling, bite, and aggressive. She is his typical woman he was searching for. He was having sex with another whore after Soraya left him. But he did not like it because she is aggressive. So he never does it again with her. His desire was only on Melanie this time. It is stated in the novel that "She struck up a fire in me" (Coetzee, 1999: 166). Fire is a symbolization of energy that can stimulate one's desire. This fire heat up his libido that pushes him doing something undesired to the core. In the rape theory, David can be considered as narcissistic because he tend to be willing to do whatever it takes to achieve the goal that they want from a relationship, including rape. In this theory, narcissists are defined as having a lower proneness to shame and guilt, having unrealistically positive self-evaluations, and being especially likely to respond to bad evaluations by blaming other sources, including the evaluator and the technique of evaluation. Narcissistic suits David as a rapist. He has lower sense of shame, as teacher and student he took Melanie to go out lunch just the two of them. Considering that he is the famous person in the city, people will wonder what is he up to. In the restaurant he seduced her and ask her to do something wild. He is implying that she has to have sex with him. But the relationship become a scandal that makes him lost his job. After realizing that there's nothing left for him in Cape Town, David wanted to change the atmosphere. He moved to the east across the country to the rural town of Salem in the Eastern Cape, where his daughter Lucy lives alone on a smallholding, growing vegetables to sell at the Saturday market and running a kennel for dogs. David begins a new life there, helping Lucy at the market, assisting Lucy's neighbour Petrus with odd jobs as "I am the gardener and the dog-man" (Coetzee, 1999: 64), and volunteering at the Animal Welfare Clinic with Bev Shaw. Lucy is leftish which make her the reversal of her father. She even did not want call herself a boss by Petrus. She is not individualist but socialist. She helps people no matter who they are. But this time she made big mistake by risk herself to strangers. Lucy tells David to stay outside while she takes the tall man indoors to use the phone. The second man runs in to the house behind them and locks David out. In a total panic, David let go of the bulldog's strap and commanded the dog to go after the boy. Then he kicks down the kitchen door. David tried to save Lucy but he felt someone whack him over the head. He falls down, barely conscious, and feels himself being dragged across the floor. When he realize, he's locked in the bathroom and wondering what's going on with Lucy. The second man comes in to get the car keys from David and then locks him back in. Meanwhile, he looks out and sees the tall man with a rifle. The tall man starts shooting the dogs one by one, splattering brains and guts all over the place. And if that isn't bad enough, the second man and the boy come back in the bathroom, douse David with alcohol, and set him on fire, luckily just his hair catches burning and he extinguishes himself in the toilet. They leave, stealing David's car. David and Lucy are left to deal with everything that just happened. During this whole nightmare, Petrus is nowhere to be found. After being raped, Lucy decided to not report the rape to the police. The silent of Lucy depict the subjugation or conquest. "No I am not blaming you, that is not the point. But it is something new you are talking about. Slavery. They want you for their slave." (Coetzee, 1999: 159). Lucy response him and disagree with "Not slavery. Subjection. Subjugation." (Coetzee, 1999: 159). This makes Lucy as the rape survivor depend on men to get protection. The second analysis is about how rape leads to shame. In Disgrace the rape that experienced by the rapist and the rape survivor transform and effect their life worst then before. From the previous study Nurka classified the effect of rape by gender: (1) Female as the object will get shame, (2) men as the subject will take disgrace. (Nurka, 2012: 310). The male character, David Lurie, got disgrace after doing sexual harassment to his student, Melanie. As the rapist, David will be haunted by his sin and losing his reputation and his job. While Lucy, the rape survivor got shame after being raped. The act of rape means to take away by force which the dignity is to be taken. Loosing dignity makes woman feel shameful. It turns out that the act of rape is not only giving shame feeling to the victims but also to the rapist. Soraya knows about the attachment of shame for being prostitute. Then when she met David in the midtown, she was afraid if the public know who she is. This is because David is the famous person in Cape town. "He has always been a man of the city, at home amid a flux of bodies where Eros stalks and glances flash like arrows" (Coetzee, 1999: 6). Concerning that shame is social affect associated with being discovered or found out by another person, she knew that he is the famous person in the city. It is too risky to stay in public with him. There is a high possibility that her secret will spread. Then to keep her pride for her children Soraya decided to quit the job. She did not want her children knows their real mother is. So she decided to resign from the escort and disappeared from that business. David ought to end but he pays a detective to tracking Soraya instead. When he got the number he makes a call. Soraya surprise and wondering abot how he gets the numbers. She did not talk for a moment. She wondered because the agency has a rule about keeping the former prostitutes identity. After the silent she said "I don't know who you are,' she says. 'You are harassing me in my own house. I demand you will never phone me here again, never." (Coetzee, 1999: 10). After this moment he did not contact Soraya anymore. For Melanie, after she gets the coercive sexual by David, she becomes a different person in class. She even absent when it was on midterm test. Then she told her boyfriend that her professor have sex with her. The boyfriend then angry to him and vandalize his car, deflated the tires and injected a glue on both door. "After this coup de main Melanie keeps her distance. He is not surprised: if he has been shamed, she is shamed too." (Coetzee, 1999: 31). The gossip may be starting to spread so she tries to not meet him. But on Monday she reappears in class and beside her, leaning back in his seat, hands in pockets, with an air of cocky ease, is the boy in black, the boyfriend. The student in the class knew about what is going on from the gossip. They are clearly waiting to see what the professor will do about the intruder. Professor let the boyfriend intrude to the class but then he asked Melanie to come to the office and tell her to not let the boyfriend do that again. After that moment Melanie never come to the class anymore. Furthermore, after being ashamed she decided to give up her study in the university. Thus her father asked David to tell Melanie to not give up. At this moment, Melanie's father , Mr. Isaacs did not know that David is the causes of his daughter wanted to quit the university. As David thought "I am the worm in the apple… how can I help you when I am the very source of your woe?" (Coetzee, 1999: 37). After knowing that David rape his Doughter Mr. Isaacs tell him that what e sad done is not right. He imply that he does not sending her daughter to the nest of viper that poisoned her daughter with the act of rape. He feels ashamed about what was happen. He disappointed that an educated person like Professor David do an embarrassing and stupid thing. After the university fired David, Melanie continued her study. From the university scandal Melanie is regarded as victims and the professor is the one who responsible. Thus the disgrace runs to David. Even though Mr. Isaacs' family got ashamed too from his rape they not reported this to the policemen. David is lucky this time. It is obvious that the rape survivor will blessed with so much shame. It is also happened on Lucy. The first thing she did is staying at home. She does not want to go outside. The trauma and the fear will grow upon her. In earlier days after the rape he stated that he was nothing, heist e dead person. She did not want to meet people too. She would rather hide her face, and he knows why. Because of the disgrace. Because of the shame…. Like a stain the story is spreading across the district. Not her story to spread but theirs: they are its owners. How they put her in her place, how they showed her what a woman was for. (Coetzee, 1999: 115) It is a related to shame that person who gets shame will hide itself from public. Lucy was avoiding he people talk and question. It takes a time to recover from this trauma. But she could not let it go to long because if she do not going outside she will lose her job and stall in the market. To replace her, David and Petrus doing her job in the market. The damage that is given to Lucy, the rape survivor, may attached forever. She felt everything will never be the same. "One is never oneself again?" (Coetzee, 1999: 124). Is "Lucy" still "Lucy"? Lucy also emphasizes the existence of herself "I am not the person you know. I am a dead person and I do not know yet what will bring me back to life." (Coetzee, 1999: 161). With nothing to left she got nothing to lose. Then she decided to take consequences of human body in pain. Lucy takes the consequences of human body in pain. "I must learn to accept. To start at ground level. With nothing. Not with nothing but. With nothing. No cards, no weapons, no property, no rights, no dignity." (Coetzee, 1999: 205). From the sentence above it is shown that Lucy is starting to understand her condition after being raped. She decided to start her business in farm and her vendor. Although she realises that she has nothing left. The rapist also takes her dignity that is the biggest loose after the rape. A woman without a dignity will judge herself as a shameful person. She also feels that she has no right to her own land and properties. It is because Petrus take over it. As the rapist, David Lurie got public pressure from university committee and the students. At first he does not confess that he is guilty. But after her daughter being raped by three African intruders he contemplate and change his attitude. Then he ask for apologize to Melanie's family. After the scandal of lecture and his student were reported in university newspaper, the university made a committee. When answering the question, David giving no clue to the judges. David was making confusing issues to them. The committee not wanted to force David to make apologize. They wanted to help David to keep doing his career by making a statement to make it clear. But he resisted by saying "I am being asked to issue an apology about which I may not be sincere?" (Coetzee, 1999: 58) David's refusal to be "disgraced" can be read as a warlike strategy in the realm of sexual politics. For by renouncing the assault, David transfers the shame he feels upon Melanie in an attempt to strengthen his wavering masculinity and suppress her intimidating femininity. He plead guilty when he was in the committee. He remains silent and giving no story from his side. When David asked someone in the neutral position that is his former wife, Rosalind. She told him that he should have known that he is too old to be meddling with other people's children. He should have expected the worst from the scandal. She also blame the two for all that happened. `Don't blame her! Whose side are you on? Of course I blame her! I blame you and I blame her. The whole thing is disgraceful from beginning to end. Disgraceful and vulgar too. And I'm not sorry for saying so.' (Cortzee, 1999: 45) David feels disgrace on himself but he still cannot accept it. He said nothing to the committee and plead guilty. But from her former wife explanation he cannot resist it. Even though he must be so angry when he heard what she said. But he controlled his emotion and accept the disgrace given by the rape. For earlier, David is described as "mildly smitten with Melanie" and that "it was no great matter: barely a term passed when he did not fall for one or other of his charges" (Coetzee, 1999: 11-12,). Masquerading as the tragic subject of the ungovernable impulse of Eros, David publically justifies and renounces the stigmatization of Melanie's rape.David's lack of a sincere apology and his refusal to publically acknowledge the assault, along with his fanciful illustration of himself as a "servant of Eros" (Coetzee, 1999: 52) demonstrates the way in which disgrace (though masked as desire) is felt by men as a response to threatening femininity. Spurned and embarrassed by the loss of his womanizing charms, David's shame is directed into lust, later to be passed off as "Eros" when he encounters Melanie Isaacs, whom he refers to as "Melanie: the dark one" (Coetzee, 1999: 8). As with Soraya, David's seduction of Melanie is an attempt not only to reclaim sexual privilege, but to emphasize the traditional patriarchal procedures of the European culture, in which such privilege, like Lurie himself, is embedded. The worst thing from David's disgrace is how he, an intellectual person which had title a professor, becomes a person who can do nothing except working in bad place. To be a dog-man, that he already underestimate it on Petrus. By the time, David realized that he can't do nothing but accept what the destiny does. The situation that makes him to take any job turned David into a rational man. What David has and does in the university, which let him to become an intellectual people, disappear when he moved out. He then realized that what he writes about Byron and natural poets all this time is all about the death person. He never writes something in contemporary. CONCLUSION There will be two conclusions which are in line with the statement of problems. The first conclusion is about the depiction of rape in the novel Disgrace. The second conclusion is about how rape lead to shame through the rapist and the rape survivor. From the analysis that has been done about the depiction of rape. It can be concluded that that the author, J.M. Coetzee use the rape to describe the condition of race in post apartheid. All the rape in this novel is interracial rape. There are three kinds of rape experienced by three female characters. The first and the second rape was done by David, white male character that desiring ethnic women. He lived in promiscuity or womanizer that used to have sex with a lot of women. Then in the end he involved in scandal with his student, Melanie. Then the third rape was done to David's daughter, Lucy. She was being raped by three African intruders. The first rape is happened between David and the prostitute, Soraya. On his age of 50 he has no plan to married again. Thus, it made David rely on prostitution in his sexual life. His ideal marriage is with a wife that is a prostitute, but for him only and only at certain times. He met Soraya only on Thursday. On the other day he is back to his normal life. With Soraya he already find the happiness he belief. It makes him thought; there is no need to search for another life destination such as home and real wife. Prostitution gives the solution that allows him to fantasize a woman to mirrors his wishes. This can be classified as rape concerning that every women in prostitutes would leave if they can and she has to do it because there are no other choices. But in the end Soraya decided to quit the job as prostitutes so he has no other place to suit his lust. Then, accidently David met Melanie on the way home. She is his student from romantic class. Melanie is a colored girl, this make David interest to her concerning that he is desiring ethnic women. He forced her to have sex. He did not force her physically but seduced her with suggestive words. The relationship between them then became a scandal in the campus and also became the talk of the city. He left the town and visits his daughter in other town to run away from the situation. During his visits to his daughter, three black men attack Lurie and Lucy at home. The men lock Lurie in a bathroom and rape Lucy in the bedroom. The second half of the novel deals with the aftermath of that moment. Lucy did not want to tell the police and keep silent about what happened to her. She also rejected her father offer to move to Holland. She claimed that it is a private matter and not to be shared. With nothing to left she got nothing to lose. Then she decided to take consequences of human body in pain. Accepting the subordinates , she is willing to sacrifice herself, brings peace between the different racial groups in South Africa. The second conclusion is about how rape lead to shame. In Disgrace the rape that experienced by the rapist and the rape survivor transform their life worst then before. The act of rape means to take away by force which the dignity is to be taken. Loosing dignity makes woman feel shameful on herself. While the rapist that considered as a thief will judge as disgraceful person after the rape. The male character, David Lurie, got disgrace after doing sexual harassment to his student, Melanie. As the rapist, David will be haunted by his sin and losing his reputation and his job. While Lucy, the rape survivor got shame after being raped The first shame is from the prostitute, Soraya. She felt the shame for being prostitute because every prostitutes is attached to shame. Then to keep her pride for her children, Soraya decided to quit the job. She did not want her children knows their real mother is. So she decided to resign from the escort and disappeared from that business. The second shame is from Melanie that involved in scandal with her lecture, David. She was shame for being reported even as victims. She often not attended the class even it was a midterm test. But she still survives to continue his study to university. This is maybe because David was kicked out from the university and not to be someone near her. The third shame is from Lucy, she raped by three African intruders. She is a lesbian that live alone in the small town. She thought that the rape that she got is the payment for living in South Africa. She felt that the rapist wants her to back home to Europe because the westerner's does not belong to South Africa. Then she decided to stay and stay silent about the rape, and keeping her shame as a private matter. The last disgrace is from David, as rapist, David Lurie got public pressure from university committee and the students. At first he does not confess that he is guilty. He loses his job as a professor and turn to be an animal's clinic assistance for killing unwanted dog. After her daughter raped by three African intruders he then contemplates and changes his attitude. He ask for apologize to Melanie's family for his feeling guilty that he never confess before. The ending of the novel shows us that Lucy as the rape survivor could start her life again from the start. She continued to seeding a new plan even she is on pregnancy. He father, David, started to understand that he live in South Africa. Then, he stop complaining about the condition. Disgrace ends with Lurie staying on in Graham's town, continuing to help out at the animal clinic. The open ending of the novel shows Lurie playing excerpts from his opera in the making on a makeshift toy banjo to the three legged dog, Driepoot, who is awaiting his turn for mercy killing. REFERENCE Abegunde, Babalola. 2013. Re-Examination of Rape and Its Groing Jurisprudance under International La. Journal of Politics and Law. Vol. 6, No. 4. Abbey, A., Parkhill, M., Clinton-Sherrod, A. & Zawacki T. 2007. A comparison of men who committed different types of sexual assault in a community sample. Journal of interpersonal violence. Baumeister, R., Catanese, K. & Wallace, H. 2002. Conquest by force: a nacissistic reactance theory of rape and sexual coercion. Review of general psychology Bushman, B., Bonacci, A., Dijk, M. & Baumeister, R. (2003). Narcissism, sexual refusal, and aggression: testing a narcissistic reactance model of sexual coercion. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology. Cahill, A. (2001). Rethinking rape. Ithaca: Cornell University Press Coetzee. J.M. 1999. Disgrace. London: Vintage, 2000 Fuchs, Thomas. 2003. The Phenomenology of Shame, Guilt and the Body in Body Dysmorphic Disorder and Depression. Journal of Phenomenological Psychology. vol. 33, no. 2. Gottfredson, M. & Hirschi, T. 1990. A general theory of crime. Stanford: Stanford University Press Lowell, Gary. 2010. A Review of Rape Statistics Theories and Policy. Undergraduate Review. Massachusetts: Bridgewater State University. Nurka, Camille. 2012. Feminine Shame/Masculine Disgrace. Journal of Cultural Study. University of Melbourne Prentky, R. & Knight, R.1991. Identifying Critical Dimensions for Discriminating Among Rapists. Journal of Consulting and Clinical Psychology Siegert, R. & Ward, T. 2002. Rape and evolutionary psychology: a critique of Thornhill and Palmer's theory. Journal of Aggression and violent behavior

Issue 16.1 of the Review for Religious, 1957. ; A. M. D. G. Review for Religious JANUARY 15, 1957 The Religious Habit . Lee Teut:el The Squirrel Within Us. ~ . ~ra.cis J. MacEnte~ Roman Documents . R. I:. Smith Cloister of Nuns . jos.ph ~. G~I~. Book Reviews Questions and Answers VOLUME 16 NUMBER 1 RI::VII:W FOR RI:LIGIOUS VOLUME 16 JANUARY, 1957 NUMI~EIt 1 CONTENTS THE RELIGIOUS HABIT: SOME SISTERS' COMMENTS-- Lee Teufel, S.J . 3 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . 9 NELL" TEST/IMENT .4BSTR.4CTS . 9 TRUNKS, DEATH, AND THE SQUIRREL WITHIN US~ Francis J. MacEntee, S.J . 10 SURVEY OF ROMAN DOCUMENTS--R. F. Smith, S.J . 13 SOME BOOKS RECEIVED . 35 PAPAL CLOISTER OF NUNS~Joseph F. Gallen, S.J . 36 BOOK REVIEWS AND ANNOUNCEMENTS-- Editor: Bernard A. Hausmann, S.J. West Baden College, West Baden, Indiana . 56 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS~ 1. Qualities Necessary in Juniorate Teachers . 62 2. Simplification of Rubrics for Mass and Divine Office .62 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, January, 1957. Vol. 16, No. 1. Published bi-monthly by The Queen's Work, 3115 South Grand Blvd., St. Louis 18, Mo. Edited by the Jesuit Fathers of St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesi-astical approval. Second class mail privilege authorized at St. Louis, Mo. Editorial Board: Augustine G. Ellard, S.J.; Gerald Kelly, S.J; Henry Willmering, S.J. Literary Editor: Robert F. Weiss, S.J. Copyright, 1957, by The Queen's Work. Subscription price in U.S.A. and Canada: 3 dollars a year; 50 cents a copy. Printed in U.S.A. Please send all renewals and new subscriptions to: Review for Religious, 3115 5outh Grand Boulevard, St. Louis 18, Missouri. Review J:or Religious Volume 16 January--Decem~er, 1957 Edited by THI: JESUIT FATHERS St. Mary's College St. Marys, Kansas Published by THE QUEEN'S WORK St. Louis, Missouri REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is indexed in I:he CATHOLIC PERIODICAL INDEX The Religious I-labit:: Some Sist:ers' Comment:s Lee Teu~;el, S.J. THE average woman who has beeri in religion 28.8 years con-siders her habit out of date, would simplify it radically, and replace cincture beads with a pocket rosary according to a surve'y made at Gonzaga University, Spokane, during the summer of 1956. The occasion of the survey was a two-week institute in per-sonal sanctity which attracted over 100 from 22 religious families of women. The survey was designed to sample reaction to the desire of Pope Plus XII to adapt the .religious garb to modern times. Questionnaires were given to 100 religious women. The 72 answers reflected an attitude that was holy and dedicated, and above all practical and feminine. None of the answers were frivolous and the cross-section of thought set forth could easily serve as a pattern for those religious superiors ot: women who are anxious to conform to the wishes of the Holy Father. To the question, "Do you consider your habit practical?" 41 said "No," while 19 replied "Yes"; 12 did not comment. ~ The reasons given for disapproval were interesting. "The sleeves are too full," one sister said, "and the rubberized collar across our chests makes it almost impossible to do anything above our chins." Another nun complained of "yards and yards of heavy, cumbersome material, with loose, wide sleeves that are always in the way." Still another thought" that "we lose half our energy carrying around so much yardage10 pounds of it--'tis vol-uminous." A third sister said, "I work in an office; the tele-phone receiver is constantly being cleaned on my headdress, leaving greasy stains." "I am a good worker," she continued, LEE TEUFEL Review for Religious "but when I am tired sometimes the very thought of getting up in the mor~iing' and carting all this SUPERFLUITY around all da~, discourages me: .~0This e~cess baggage saps my strength. How long, O Lord, how long?" Sisters from the classrooms e.xpressed little enthusiasm for large sta~ched "b~east-plates" tl~at hindered their "writing high on the blackboard or pulling down maps." . Huge, headdresses that "take valuable time to assemble, make turning the head a chore, cause headaches and ear troubles," came in for the sisters' criticism. "Without the discomfort of the headdress, ' one said, am sure I could carry on my teach-ing day much more patiently." The survey showed that the average religious, woman spends one hour every 43 days cleaning her habit. This time is exclu-sive of that spent on the headdress and does not include the "yearly overhaul and the 10 minute periods given nightly to sponging." The use of commercial dry-cleaning facilities was reported in a ~ew isolated cases. It was interesting to the writer that a~nun rips her habit apart once or twice a year for a general renovation and then spends the "Easter vacation and what other time she can find until June, as well as the Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays, reassembling it again." A host of interesting and practical suggestions came from the following questions: 1. If you were founding a religious family Of women in 1957,, what characteristics would you stress in the habit you de-signed? a) Would you favor a veil and starched linen to frame the face? b) Would you favor a simple linen cap that showed the hair-line and did not interfere with lateral sight? January, c) d) e) f) 1957 THE RELIGIOUS HABIT What color would y;ou prescribe for your habit?. Would cincture beads be ~l part of your proposed'habit? How far from the floor would you want the skirt to hang? Would you favor a conservative business suit t~or a habit? The hypothetical foundresses were unanimous in endorsing "simplicity" as the primary characteristic. Simplicity¯ was fol-owed, in order, by "comfort'i" "easy "maintenance," "femiiainity" (one nun gracefully ~odified fdmininitywitl'i "Mary-like"), and . "a well-groomed look." '. On this point the nuns subscribed to a common plank in their platform f6r change. This plank~ can be epkomized in "less-yardage," "no celluloid," "no starch aroiafid ahesk," "freedom for the neck and'face." Some endorsed a jumper style~dre.ss with a washable waist and many of them favored.a "detachable waist for easy main-tenance." A respectable contingent even voted for "a dress with an open neck." The consensus r~flected a desire for a habit easy to make and repair. One nun who had been in religion over forty years observed, "All women are not seamstresses any more th£n all men are efficient carpenters." Another remarked that "the time spent on clothes could be more profitably employed." Lightness of material was emphasized by 79% of the nuns polled. Difficulty in travelling in cumbersome, voluminous clothes, the space required in an automobile and busses were cited as embarrassing trials. One sister saluted "the agility and ingenuity required to dress in a Pullman berth." A simple veil of light material and simply draped, was favored by 84%. Sixteen percent would dispense with the veil entirely. The majority, who voted for the veil because of its "grace," LEE TEUFEL Review for Religious "beauty, . modesty," and "femininity," stipulated firmly tha.'. it should not be so long as to be 'annoying in the wind and a "problem when sitting in a chair." Parenthetically it might be pointed out here that the writer expected to find a certain reluctance for mo~iifying the habit on the part of women who had been many years in religion. To differentiate the opinion of old ~nd young, one of the ques-tions asked was, "How long have you been in religion?" The ant~icipated relucta~.ce for modification never eventuated. Decades of service of God did not temper the desire for a change. Some of the most practical suggestions were offered by women who had been in religion well over 30 years. As to linen about the face, 72% favored it but were vigorous in their abhorrence for starch. The rest of the nuns voted for no linen. Reasons of health, comfort, economy of time were given for eliminating line~., or, at least, modifying existing styles. "No fuss" ran as a litany through the responses to this question. Frequent headache was attributed by many to the constriction of the face and head. Opinion was closely divided on the proposal of a simple linen cap. The reasons for condemning it ranged from "not distinc-tive enough for religious women," through "it would look like a night-cap," to "such a. cap would make us look too old." Those who favored the cap reasoned that it would be com-fortable, easy to maintain and "would permit us to drive a car more safely." Many nuns who rejected the cap proposal expressed interest in a "simple bonnet that would permit lateral sight." The neces-sity for driving cars motivated many suggestions to provide a nun with more lateral vision. The nuns were definitely opposed to a cap or a bonnet that would show the hair-line. The ballo_tting was 68 to 4. Tl=-e January, 1957 THE RELIGIOUS HABIT feminine "bests" the religious in more than one rejo~.nder, such as "the cap might be all right, but as to the hair-lithe, how would we hide our age?" Another pleads for "no hair showing, but, with all the ear troubles sisters have, I do think their ears should be exposed to air and sunlight." The color of the proposed habit brought out an interesting spread of recommendations. There were 30 who favored black contrasted with simple white relief. Fifteen preferred a simple white habit. Gray, because it was a. neutral color that would not show spots, was endorsed by 15 sisters whi!e 12 nuns favored a black habit for winter and a white "or cream color" for summer. Let it be remarked here that the opinion of no sister was included who had not been in religion at least 12 years. With regard to the skirt of the habit, the "mean height from the floor decided upon by the 72 nuns who replied was five and one-half inches. There was the usual diversity of opinion on this point amidst an impressive consensus as to the need of some modification. Those who favored a long skirt said "it hides feet more gracefully," "covers big feet." One sister foresaw that with shorter skirts it "would be diffi-cult to keep the community in decent-looking stockings." Another, who recomraended six inches from the .floor, remarked that "it is not practical to use one's skirt for a dust-mop, nor is it respectful." Another holy woman who has been in religion 34 years recommended three or four inches frgm the floor be~ cause ,.'.here are "too many ugly ankles, ugly, patched shoes, and thick, cotton .stockings." A nun who has been in religion for 30 years remarked that the skirt should hang within three inches of the floor because "poverty in shoes and stockings would de-mand it." Only 14 of the 72 nuns replying would favor a conservative business suit for a habit. The~ reasons for its rejection were: "It does not indicate dedication to Christ," "I would feel sorry for 7 LEE TEUFEL Review for Religious the large woman, .Old nuns would look grotesque," and "I'd rather be 100 years out of date than two or three." There would be no place for cincture beads in the mod-ernized habit if 52 of the 72 sisters could prevent them. The beads were characterized as "ornamental," "heavy," "unneces-sary" and some labelled them "costume jewelry." Twenty-nine sisters characterized their habits as out of date; 21 said they were not, while the other 22 made qualified answers that legitimately would place them with the 29. Some interest-ing comments were made, such as "very much so," "well over 100 years," "the peasant dress of 1850," and "in style at our founding when religious women did not have to travel." Sixty-one of the 72 nuns criticized their habits as not hygienic. When asked if their habits were "adapted to modern needs," 62 answered negatively. A common complaint was, "We have no different weights of cloth for different seasons." "We wear the same winter and summer." One nun remarked on the embarrassment of "using a crowded elevator with yards and yards of serge to shepherd and a clumsy headdress." Anothcr plea was made for "less yardage, and more sim-plicity" when the question was asked: "Are all the items of your habit necessary to show dedication to Christ?" There were 58 negative answers. One nun obse.rved, "a' married woman indi-cates her status by a simple ring. Why then," she continued, "do we have to dress as we do to indicate dedication to Christ?" The religious who answered the questionnaire had served God for from 12 to 58 years. This experience, averaging 28.8 years, should reflect judicious prudence and'temperate expression. One final question was proposed to the nuns: "Do you think your habit attracts vocations?" 8 January, 1957 THE RELIGIOUS HABIT ¯ The preponderant reply, 39 in fact, said the habit has no influence on a young girl en~tering religion. There were 17 who thought the habit was an attraction and 16 who said it was a deterrent. One nun, with over 30 years of service of God, said, "The yardage, weight, wool material for both summer and winter were items that "required too "much heroism for a 'girl who was to enter with me and it 'almost pre;cented me frd~m entering." The senior of the group, with 58 years of service behind her, when asked if the habit attracted vocations, answered, "Definitely not. I wear 10 pou~nds of clothes, while ihe modern girl wears 14 ounces." I should like to meet this hUm She is full of years but modern as the Catholic Church. OUR CONTRIBUTORS LEE TEUFEL is currently on leave from Gonzaga University, doing graduate work in journalism at Marquette University. FRANCIS J. MacENTEE is studying for his doctorate in biology at Catholic Uni-versity. R.F. SMITH is a member of the faculty of St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas. JOSEPH F. GALLEN is professor of canon law at Woodstock College, Woodstock, Maryland. NEW TESTAMENT ABSTRACTS Readers of the REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS will be interested in a new journal devoted to Scripture studies which has recently appeared. New "_l'estatttent ,ql~¢lracts, published by Weston College, Weston 93, Massachusetts, presents concise summaries in English of articles dealing with the New Testament. The magazine covers matter selected from the major theological journals of the world and includes abstracts of important book reviews. Published three times a year, it costs three dollars. 9 . Trunks, Death, and The Squirrel Within Us I:rancis ,J. Macl~nteez S.J. TWO factors coupled to produce the substance of this article, the annual moving period and a retreat meditation on death. With the nasty details of packing still fresh in mind, that most salutary exhortation that death whispers to us, namely, to ¯ start dying to thing.s here and now, had a vigorous impact on me. There is nothing like packing and moving to convince us that we have by some means or other become curators of a no small-sized museum of odds and ends to which a certain amount of dying would be most beneficial, not only to ourselves who, as religious, have vowed complete estrangement from the superfluous, but, also and especially, to our community which must pay the very high shipping rates involved. I remember" hauling a heavy wooden crate filled with tracts, treatises, and other treasures of great importance (?) over to the carpenier shop the day before the retreat started. The Brother Carpenter, busy all the year around in lots of six at a time With the many details incumbent on any carpenter in a large community, was at this particular time of hectic mass movement a hurried and harried man. But with the kindness and patience of his great Model, that holy man with the horny hands was busy re-enforcing, nailing down and tagging a whole array of crates, boxes and trunks, some of which had. never been opened since their arrival. As he took my crate for similar handling, he sighed, "Father, if I had the money we paid out to the express company since I've been.at this job, we could put up a new building." An exaggeration, of course, but still very thought-provoking. We might think we are doing quite well in keepi~ng our needs and possessions down to the chaste minimum that is characteristic of religious profession. But when it becomes necessary to gather, sort, and pack them into a trunk, ii rapidly dawns on us that we 10 January, 1957 THE SQUIRREL WITHIN US have been deceiving ourselves. : The deception is all the more alarm-ing because it frequently stems from a good motive, namely, pro-viding for a future need. There is something of the squirrel in nearly all of us, that impulse to sake and store away for future use. Something catches our eye; and, although we would never l~ave knowr~ of its existence if it had not fallen up.der our gaze (the dangers of the roving eye that St. Paul warns us against), still.we take and hoard it. "I may have some use for that someday!" It may even be something ordinary and practical that comes our way, like extra clothes. We really don't need them, here and now, but the squirrel in us takes over, so we accept them and stack them away, justified, we think, because we are really saving the superior a future expense. We come across a fine article in a journal or a new book of special interest to us appears, and right away we must have our own copy. "It migh~ not be in the library when I want it, and besides this copy will end up in the library anyway." End up, perhaps, but in the meantime it becomes one more item in the museum added to an ever-growing collection of literature earmarked for ftiture perusal, that will have to be cared for, dusted, crated and freighted. Without wishing to enter any argument with the S.P.C.A., a prayer-inspired resolution that would deal death to this particular rodent, the squirrel within us, would leave not only our rooms but also our souls far less cluttered up, for the more we detach ourselves from "things" (and one fine way is to subtract them from us): the easier it becomes to give our £ulI attention to God. Another eye-opener stems from the annoying task of gather-ing and packing. In the process, our things are bound to get scattered around the room, removed from their normal inconspicu-ous resting p!aces where they had gradually lost their full identity and significance; we now see them in a new spot, on tabletops or conspicuous window sills, .where their very newness of location draws our eye, and restores to them their full personality. And our eyes widen in amazement as they see, as though for the first time, the little pirates that have been stealing our time and attention. 11 FRANCIS J. MacENTEE Review [o~" Religious Light literature has its place as an occasional diversion, but it has a constant insidious way of telling us that this is the occasion. Little side interests we turn to for a few minutes' breather, which look harmless enough when out of sight in the closet now, spread out on the floor prior to packing, give us fair warning that they could be competing for first place with what should be our main interests. We are told that Blessed Peter Faber would every year put to common use all the things he had in his possession. Others, inflamed with a similar zeal for holy poverty, would periodically, generally at the time of their annual retreat, lay out every single item they possessed and would pass judgment on their need of them. Whatever they saw that was superfluous or could be done without, they immediately disposed of. Is it possible that the v.ery thought of the labor involved in having to display all their holdings strikds terror into the hearts of some religious? As annoying as packing and moving can be, it certainly gives us just such an oppor-tunity. If we passed a similar honest judgment on our chattels before consigning them to the hold of the trunk, it's a safe bet that our cargo would be a good bit lighter, and so would our hearts. We all know that wd will someday die. That day is fast ap-proaching when we will leave our room for the last time, without the opportunity, perhaps, for even a hasty tidying. Our desk with al'l its contents will become common property. Our bookcase, still holding the many pieces We intended getting ~iround to, will now become part of the house library. Our clothes in the drawers and closet will be~ worn by someone else who approximates our dimen-sions. All this is sure to happen in some form or other. But we could steal the jump on death if, like some unpleasant task that we do in parts to cushion ourselves against its full brunt, we take death, too, piecemeal and begin to die now little by little. Start dying now to the many things that make up our life, to persons, places and things, but especi~llly to things, so important precisely because of their seeming unimp6rtance. Die to them now-so that the re-mainder of our days may be filled more completely with Christ. 12 Survey ot: Roman Documents R. I:. smith, S.J. WITH this article REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS inaugurates a new department which will appear regularly in future issues of the magazine. It will not be superfluous to set down in this initial article the reason for beginning-the depart-ment and the method which will be followed in the writing of the articles. Basically the reason for the department would seem~to be this: All personal perfection as well as every apostolate must "be ecclesiastical, that is, they both must be in accordance with the mind of the Church. Since themind of the Church is known most easily through the teachings of the Roman Pontiff, in whom the plenitude of the Church's teaching power is to be found, it is certainly useful and even necessary that religious conse-crated to spiritual perfection and engaged in either the con-templative or the active apostolate should have some contact with the current pronouncements and documents of the Holy See. It is the hope of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS that this' new d.epartment will in some measure meet this need for sustained contact with the current teaching of the' Vicar of Christ. As to the method to be followed in these articles, the general plan will be to provide a summary of papal documents as these are published in the official Vatican publication, .4cta .4postoli-cae Sedis (hereafter to be referred to by the usual abbreviation i!i!S) .1 The present article will attempt to give a survey of those papal documents which have, appeared between January 1, 1956, and May 31, 1956. The following article--which will appear in the March, 1957, issuewwill then cover the documents ap-pearing between June 1, 1956, and September 30, 1956, while ~In the present survey, all references to .4//8 are to 1956 (Vol. 48) unless otherwise indicated. 13 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious the May, 1957, issue will survey the remaining documents of the year 1956. Succeeding issues of RI~'ClEW FOR RELIGIOUS will then begin a progressive survey of the document~ appear-ing ia the 1957 In the period January 1, 1956, through May 31, 1956, the two most important documents issued by the Holy Father were two encyclical letters, one on the subject of sacred music, the other on devotion to the Sacred Heart of our Lord. On Sacred Music The encyclical On Sacred IViusic (the Latin title is Musicae Sacrae Disciplina) is dated December 25, 1955; but, since its official publication was in the 1956 .i!MS, pp. 5-25, it is properly included in the present survey of papal documents of the first five months of the current year. It is noteworthy that the Holy Father has put his teaching on sacred music in the form of an encyclical rather than in one of the other customary, but less solemn forms of papal_ docu-ments. Tl~e present document, it would seem, is the first encyclical to be devoted exclusively to the matter of sacred music; and the .selection of this particular curial form would seem to be a clear indication of the importance which Plus XII attaches to the subject of sacred music which, as he says in the course of his encyclical, has its own peculiar efficacy to lift the hearts of men to the things of God and which, more than any other form of sacred art, enters intimately into the official worship which the Church offers to the Divine Majesty: The encyclical begins with a history of sacred music from the time of the exodus of the Israelites from Egypt, through the rise in Christian times of Gregorian chant, of polyphony, and of various instrumental accompaniments, to the latest directives of recent popes on the matter of Church music. After outlining the general principles which must direct all sacred art and hence also sacred music, the encyclical then considers two types of 14 January, 1957 ROMAN DOCUMENTS sacred music: liturgical music and "popular" or, as it is more often called in the. document, religious music. Liturgical music, according to the encyclical, is that sacred music used in the Church's liturgy; since its outstanding charac-teristic must be holiness and since Gregorian chant so admirably embodies this quality, it is this ~hant~ that should be most widely used throughout the entire Church, with no prejudice, however, to specific exceptions granted by the Holy See, nor to the liturgical ck, ants of other rites. Plus XII is notably insistent on this widespread use 6f Gregorian chant as a fitting symbol of ¯ the universality of the Church which transcends all national and local distinctions. Because of his desire for this widespread use of chant, the Pope insists that training in Gregorian chant should be a necessary part of the Christian education of youth through-out the world. The universality manifested by the chant must also be expressed linguistically: for the only language to be used in this liturgical music is Latin. One exception, however, is noted with respect to solemn high Mass. In those places where there exists a long-standing or imme~norial custom of singing vernacu-lar hymns at solemn high Mass after the liturgical words have been sung in Latin, this custom may be continue'd, if the ordinary of the place judges that the custom cannot be prudently abol-ished. Nevertheless, in no case may the liturgical words be sung in the vernacular. The Holy Father is careful to point out that what he has said with regard to Gregorian chant is not to be construed as an exclusion of polyphonic music from the Church's liturgy. On the contrary, polyphonic compositions can contribute greatly to the beauty of the sacred rites, provided that what is profane, exaggerated, or overly di~cult be eliminated. These same rules also apply to the use of musical instruments among which the organ holds the principal place, though other instruments may also be used, "especially stringed instruments played with a bow, 15 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious for these have an indescribable power of expressing the joyful and sorrowful sentiments of the soul." The second type of sacred music, termed in the encyclical religious music, consists of hymns generally in the vernacular and set to melodies in consonance with the musical traditions of the nation or place in which they are used. One of the notable characteristics of the present encyclical is the attention it gives to this type of music; the encyclical treats the matter at consider-able length and even gives it, as shall be seen, a definite, though modest, place at certain liturgical ceremonies. These hymns should be simple, brief, religiously grave, and above all in accordance with Catholic doctrine. They may not be used at solemn high Mass, as has already been noted, but they may profitably be used at other Masses, provided they are suitably adapted to the different parts of the Mass. This same religious music may be used in churches for extra-liturgical func-tions, as well as outside of churches in processions, meetings, and so forth. They are as well an important vehicle of religi-ous education of the young. The bishops of the world are urged to foster this type of sacred music, while missionaries are advised by the Holy Father that religious music of this type is an im-portant aid to their apostolate. There follow various directives to the bishops of the world and to superiors of religious communities by which they can effectively foster sacred music, and the document concludes with the hope that through "this noblest of the arts . . . the Church's children may give to the triune God a due praise ex-pressed in fitting melodies and sweet harmonies." On the Sacred Heart The second encyclical(Haurietis aquas), which treats of devotion to the Sacred Heart, is dated May 15, 1956, and appeared in ,/1./1S, pp. 309-353. Occasioned by the one.hun-dredth anniversary of the extension of the feast of the Sacred 16 January, 1957 ROMAN DOCUMENTS Heart to the universal Church, the document derives its title from the prophecy of Isaias, in which the prophet foretells the gifts of God to be present in the' Messianic kingdom; among these gifts, thinks the Holy Father, devotion to the Heart of Christ is one of the greatest. If any single impression is par.a-mount after the reading of this length~; encyclical, that impression is that Pius XII is deeply concerned that devotion to the Sacred Heart be securely and solidly founded on the great dog-matic truths of the Christian religion. After briefly pointing out that the Heart of Christ is given divine honor because that Heart i~ hypostatically united to the Person of the Divine Word and because the Heart of Christ is a natural symbol of His infinite love for the human race, the Vicar of Christ then searches the Scriptures for an Understanding of this devotion. Though Scripture nowhere refers to a special worship directed to the physical Heart of Christ as a symbol o~ His love, there can be no doubt that in both the Old and the New Testaments the love of God for men is the commanding truth mirrored under various images and figures which prepare the way for that definitive sign and symbol of divine love which is the Sacred Heart of Christ. If the love of God for men is shown in the Old Testa-ment by such words as those of Isaias 49, 15: "Can a woman forget her infant so as not to have pity on the son of her womb? And if she should forget, yet will I not forget thee," still it is in the Gospels that we come to the fullest knowledge of God's love ~or men, since the Gospels tell us of our redemption; and that redemption is first and foremost a mystery o~ a love that was rooted at once in justice and in mercy. It was a just love, be-cause Christ redeemed mankind out of love for His heavenly Father to whom He wished to give due and abundant satisfaction for sin; and it was a merciful love, for He entered thework of redemption out of love for the human race, since He saw that mankind of itself could not expiate its own sins. 17 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious It must be remembered, how~ ever, that since Christ was truly God and truly man, His love was at once divine and human; similarly too it must be recalled that His human love was of two kinds, intellectual and sensible. The Heart of Christ, then, can rightly be considered as the symbol and sign of this tb.reefold love which was the motive force of all Christ's words, actions, teachings, miracles, and gifts. When, therefore, "we adore the most sacred Heart of Jesus Christ, in it and through it we are adoring both the uncreated love of the Divine Word as well as His human love, His other affections, and His virtues." Devotion to the Sacred Heart accordingly "is nothing less than devotion to the divine and human love of the Incarnate Word as well as devotion to the love which the Father and the Holy Spirit have for sinful men." We may be assured then, says the Roman Pontiff, that the devotion by which the love of God and of Christ are honored under the symbol of the wounded Heart of Christ was at no time foreign to the piety of the faithful; nevertheless, the devotion to the Heart of Christ as a symbol of both His divine and human love underwent a gradual development in the history of which many saints, especially St. John Eudes and St. Margaret Mary, made great contributions. Nevertheless, the remarkable growth of this devotion can be fully explained only by the fact that it is in complete accord with the Christian religion which is pri-marily a religion of love. The contemplation, therefore, of the physical Heart of Christ is no hindrance to the purest love of God Himself; for from the physical Heart of Christ we are led to the contempla-tion of his human sensible love, then to his human intellectual love, and finally to His divine love. Devotion to the Sacred Heart then can rightly be considered as a perfect profession of the Christian religion, and those who depreciate the value of this devotion rashly offend God Himself. It should, however, be remembered that devotion to the Sacred Heart is not primarily 18 January, 1957 ROMAN DOCUMENTS concerned with external acts of piety; nor should the principal motive for the practice of this devotion be private promises of temporal or eternal benefits, for such promises have been made only to lead us to the observance of our principal Christian duties of love and expiation. The Holy Father concludes his encyclical by urging the fostering of devotion to the Sacred Heart which he foresees will lead many to return to the religion of Christ, will vivify the faith of many others, and will unite all the faithful more closely with our most loving Redeemer, so that throughout the entire world the kingdom of Christ may grow, that kingdom which is a "kingdom of truth and of life, a kingdom of holiness and of grace, a kingdom of justice, of love, and of peace." Occasional Addresses The documents to be considered next are the official texts of those addresses which the Holy Father customarily gives on certain dates or occasions of each year. The first that naturally comes to notice is the Christmas Eve address, given, of course, on December 24, 1955, but officially published in the 1956 AAS, pp. 26-34. The general theme of this address is security. Genuine security, says the Hol~' Father, must be founded on Christ; modern forgetfulness of Christ has also led man to forget the true nature of man and the social order which is based on that nature and which alone provides a solid founda-tion for human security. The modern world has instead mis-takenly placed its hopes for security on the exclusively material-istic foundation of technical and scientific progress and of ever-accelerated social productivity. Modern Christians, however, mindful that the Incarnation of the Word has emphasized human nature as a basic norm of the moral order, should utilize not merely natural but also supernatural means for the sane ordering of things within the limits set by God Himself. Human security being impossible without world peace, the Holy Father then considers this matter and firmly points out to 19 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious the nations of the world their obligation in conscience to come to a mutual agreement that would effectively secure all three of the following aims: renunciation of experimentation with atomic weapons; abolition of the use of such weapons; and a general control over the making of atomic armaments. Finally, human security demands, the elimination of those quarrels between nations that might lead to war. Here the matter of western and especially European colonialism must be faced; the Pontiff warns that nations should not be deprived of a just progressive political liberty and urges the West to recognize this principle and at the same time to set itself to the task of extend-ing its genuine values to those regions yet tmtouched by those values. If the general theme of the Holy Father's Christmas Eve message was security, his Easter message given on April. 1, 1956, and published in i!-i!S, pp. 184-188, centers around the general topic of serenity. Real serenity of soul, the Pope remarks, can be based only on faith, on the "Do not fear" of the risen Christ, and on the conviction that mankind will share the glory of Christ's victory. It is such a faith that gives to the Church and her children that strong confidence which is the. necessary pre-requisite for peace and which never permits her or them to despair of the attainment of peace. This peace, since it is not a state of repose resembling death, but is rather something dynamic, accompanying activity, does not nevertheless flow from every kind of activity. A witness to this truth is to be found in that activity of the contemporary world which centers around the use of nuclear energy; this activity can bring much good on many levels of human existence, but it .can also cause untold destruction, death, and consequently fear. Pius XII concludes his message with the prayer that the light and strength of Christ may check nation~ in their race for nuclear weapons. Christmas and Easter have long been traditional occasions for special addresses of the Holy Father; it would seem that 20 January, 1957 ROMAN DOCUMENTS henceforth May 1, which is now dedicated to St. Joseph the Worker, will also be the date of an annual address to Christian workers. In the speech which the Holy Father addressed on May 1, 1956, to the Association of Christian Workers of Italy (~Lq8, pp. 287.-292), Chriitian workers are' reminded that they find their unity in Christ the Redeemer of all and in the Church the mother of all. Christian. worker-movements are riot m competition with other groups, nor in fear of them; rather they exist only that Christiano workers may be the apostles of Christ among those workers who do not yet know Him or who reject Him. On States of Perfection Four papal documents of the early part of 1956 are directly concerned with aspects of the various states of perfection. Con-sideration of these documents may well begin with the most general of them, a decree of the Sacred Congregation for Religious dated March 26, 1956, and appea.ring in ~///~, pp. 295-296. The decree is concerned with norms regarding con-gresses and conventions which treat of the renovation and adapta-tion of the states of perfection. According to the decree, con-ventions or congresses, courses of lectures, and special schools, which are instituted for members of states of perfection and in which the matters discussed pertain to the internal life, juridi-cal condition, or the formative training of such states of perfec-tion, are not to be held without previous consultation with the Sac~ed Congregation for Religious.'-' Consequently promoters or presiding officers of such courses or conventions should send to the same Congregation before the meeting a list of the topics to be considered as well as of the speakers who are scheduled. After the convention, the presiding officer should report to the same Congregation the matters treated, the discussions engaged "Father Smith is simply giving an accurate rendition of the content of the Roman documents. This particular passage on the norms of con-gresses, conventions, and so forth, may require further explanation. We hope to give that in a subsequent number of the REVIEW.--Ed. 21 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious in, and in general everything which treats of the adaptation and renovation of the states ot: perfection. Where, however, there already exist federations or councils of major superiors, which possess their own statutes and commissions approved by the Holy See, they can choose and propose to the Congregation the names of men who will be able to speak at such conventions or courses of lectures. Finally, to ordinaries of the place is commended the praiseworthy practice of calling together members of those states of perfection which have a house and exercise the min-istry within their dioceses, to examine and paternally discuss with them those matters which pertain to their ministries, insofar as these are matters of legitimate concern to the dioceses. The second of the four documents concerning states of perfection refers only to clerical states of perfection. The docu-ment is an apostolic constitution of the Holy Father, entitled Seat of Wisdom (Sedes Sapientiae), dated May 31, 1956, and published in A~IS, pp. 354-365. The constitution begins by noting that while in earlier ages of the Church, states ot? per-fection were not generally conjoined to the dignity, of the priest-hood, still in modern times the conjunction of such states of perfection with the priesthood is a common practice in the Church. It is obvious, then, that such clerical states of perfection require special norms by which both the religious and priestly training of their members may be secured. Up to the present time such norms have been furnished by the constitutions and statutes Of each group, together with a number of prescriptions and recommendations of the Holy See; in recent times, however, a need has been felt for general ordina-tions that would apply to all clerical states of perfection; it is the purpose of the present constitution to provide for this need by setting forth a number of pertinent statutes to be observed by all clerical states of perfection. After recalling that every true vocation has a divine element (grace) and an ecclesiastical element (choice by a legitimate au- 22 January, 1957 ROMAN DOCUMENTS thority), the constitution also recalls the truth that every genuine vocation to a clerical state of perfection requires a training that will lead not on!y to religious perfection, but also to priestly and apostolic perfection. This training should lead to the formation of the perfect man in Christ Jesus; it should perfect body and soul, cultivate all the natural virtues, develop a virile and humane personality as a solid natural foundation for the supernatural life; and, above all, it must lead. to the supernatural sanctification ¯ of the soul, every activity of which must be animated by an ardent love for God and for neighbor. Having given this general sketch of what training should be in a clerical state of perfection, the Holy Father then limits his attention to the intellectual and pastoral formation of such states and proceeds to give detailed statutes on the matter. In the case of intellectual training in those fields which are also the object of study for persons in the world, superiors should make every effort that such training for their subjects should be in no way inferior to that given in the world. As for philosophy and theology, the students should be instilled with a reverent fidelity to the teaching authority of the Church; they should be taught to investigate new problems with the utmost diligence and at the same time with the greatest of prudence and caution, while all of philosophy and theology should be in accordance with the doctrine and principles of St. Thomas Aquinas. Both teachers and students should remember that ecclesias-tical studies should be directed not merely to intellectual train-ing, but also to a complete religious, priestly, and apostolic for-mation; hence, intellectual instruction should be joined with prayer and contemplation. The entire training should be adapted to the refutation of modern errors and to the meeting of modern needs. To holiness and fitting knowledge must be added a care-ful pastoral preparation, which should be begun at the incep-tion of the course of studies, gradually elaborated throughout R. F. SMITH Review for Reiigious the whole time of training, and fin~illy perfected ina special "ap-prenticeship" to be made after tl~e completion of the study of theology. All this pastoral preparation should be directed toward the formation of a perfect apostle according to the aim of each religious institute. The training should include instruction in psychology, cat¢chetics, social problems, and other such topics. All this should be supplemented by practical pastoral work which should culminate in the "apprenticeship" which should be under the direction of experienced and qualified men. These general statutes are to be observed by all to whom they are applicable; moreover, the" Holy Father grants to the Sacred Congregation for Religious the power to issue further ordinations and instructions by which the present general statutes can be reduced most effectively to practice. The Holy Father's directives regarding the "apprenticeship" to be made in every clerical state of perfection after the study of theology bring us to a consideration of the third of the four documents that have been noted as dealin~ directly with states of perfection. The Society of Jesus has always possessed a third year of probation made after theology and similar at least to some extent to the "apprenticeship'.' mentioned by Pius XII. On March 25, 1956, the Holy Father delivered an allocution to the instructors of this third year of probation, who were all gathered together in Rome at the time. In the course of his al-locution the Pope insisted on the value and need of such a third probation even and especially today; moreover, he emphasized that this year of probation should be conducted in strict accord-ance with the path laid out by the founder of the Society of Jesus; the young priests who make this third year of probation should strive to understand the spirit of their Institute; and the Holy Father concludes by urging the tertian instructors to do everything in their power to make the year of third probation a success. In i~self, it may be noted, this allocutio~ is of special 24 January, 1957 ROMAN DOCUMENTS interest only to the Society of Jesus, but in the light of the Holy Father's later directive on the "apprenticeship" to be made in every clerical state of perfection, the allocution takes on a wider interest and importance. The last of the four .documents which deal directly with states of perfection pertains 0nly to those intended for women. This document is in the special form called a ~/~otu Proprio, a form which is customarily used when it is desired to emphasize the fact of the personal intervention of the Holy Father in con-nection with whatever is discussed in the document. The present document, the title of which is NiMI Ec¢lesiae, is dated Feb-ruary 11, 1956, and is in -/!-/!S, pp. 189-192. The document deals with the Institute Re~ina Mun~!i (Queen of the World); before examining its contents it may be well to recall briefly the nature and history of the Institute. It was founded in Rome for the higher education "especially in the sacred sciences of women who are members of states of perfection. The founda-tion of the Institute was decided upon in 1952; it began to func-tion for the first time in 1954; and in 1955 it was offcially erected by the Sacred Congregation for Religious. The present l~/Iot~ Proprio, now gives the Institute its definitive juridical form. According to the document the Institute Regina Mundi is now accorded the honor of being a pontifical institute which henceforth will be under the supervision of the Sacred Congrega-tion for Seminaries and Universities. The Holy Father grants to the Institute the right and .power to confer degrees on those students who have successfully fulfilled all the requirements of the Institute. Possessors of such degrees will be canonically approved for teaching in any secular or religious schools for women, accordir.g to the norms for each particular type of degree. To teach, however, in lay schools for men, the require-ments prescribed by law must be observed. The fina! power granted the Institute by the Holy Father is that of aggregating to itself those schools, institutes, or departments thereof which appear to the Institute to have affinities with itself. 25 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious There is no need to stress the importance of the Institute Regina Mundi for the life of religious women in the Church; its foundation and 'its present elevation to the dignity of a pon-tifical institute mark one of the most important steps in the Holy Father's program of renovation and accommodation of the Church's states of perfection. ¯ Mainly for Teachers A number of papal documents published in the first half of 1956 will be of interest to those religious who are engaged in the apostolic ministry of teaching. In a speech to a group of Catholic elementary school teachers of Italy, the Holy Father outlined his answer to the three questions: What should a teacher be? What should a teacher know? What should a teacher resolve to accomplish? A teacher, said the Pontiff, should be a close imitator of the unique Teacher, Christ. He should not only have a firm grasp of the matter he teaches, but should also have a sympathetic understanding of the children he instructs. The teacher should strive to give not only a knowledge of as-signed scholastic matter but should also give his charges a vital grasp of their Catholic religion and should attempt to cooperate with God's desire that saints should be found today even among children. Finally, the teacher should not be content merely with group instruction but should try to give a reasonable amount of personal and individual attention to each child." In the course of the busy life of communicating knowledge, it is easy for a religious to forget or neglect the prime importance of fostering in their students a deeply spiritual and interior life. The nccessity for such a spiritual life in young people today, surrounded as they are by a culture absorbed in the development of techniques for the control o~ the external world, is admirably stressed by Pius XII in an allocution given to a group of young French women on April 3, 1956 (i/-/!S, pp. 272-277). Teachers on the college level will find an inspiring state-ment oi: the meaning of Christian humanism and of the relation- 26 January, 1957 ROMAN DOCUMENTS ship between the Church and human culture in an alloctition which Plus XII addressed to a group of archaeologists, historians, and historians of art on March 9, 1956. In the course of the ¯ speech, the text of which is given in ~!~!S, pp. 210-216, the Holy Father states that the Church does not identify herself with any one culture, for religion of itself is independent of culture, as can be seen, for ins.tance, by the historical fact that Greece at the height of its brilliant culture never reached the lofty idea of God and of morality which the Hebrews with a much lower culture expressed in their sacred writings. Moreover, the Church has received no special divine com-mand with regard to the cultural order; her aim is the purely religious one of leading souls to God. On the other hand, the Church is not hostile to human culture, for the striving for such culture puts into execution a commandment given to all of man-kind by God Himself: "Fill the earth and subdue it" (Genesis 1, 28). Moreover, every sound cultural advance strikes a pro-portionate equality between material progress on the one hand and spiritual and moral progress on the other. Fu~hermore, cultural decadence has generally beeri preceded by religious de-cadence, so that while religion is independent of the kind and degree of culture, still every enduring culture possesses an inti-mate relationship with religion. This is shown in the history of the Church, for merely through her presence and religious activity she" has influenced the culture of humanity. Her liturgy, her educational work, her charitable and social achievements, her works of sacred art, her volumes of theological knowledge are all cultural values of the first importance. Besides, the Church has influenced the cul-tural life of mankind in a deeper, if less immediately apparent way, by her orientation of life towards a personal and paternal God, by her respect for the personal dignity of the individual, by her esteem for manual labor, by her insistence on monogamic and indissoluble marriage. It can be said indeed that the soul of western culture is constituted by those Christian principles 27 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious which the Church has transmitted and kept alive; and the culture of the West will retain its vitality only so long as it does not lose its soul. Moreover, concludes the Holy Father, the Church stands ever ready to infuse these same animating principles into" any and all human cultures. Religious who are teachers are frequently called upon to give critical reviews of books or to .advise others on norms to be followed in such critical reviewing. They will find in an allocu-tion given by the Holy Father to a group of Italian priests engaged in the critical reviewing of books a wise. catalogue of the qualities that should be possessed by a competent critic of books and literature (cf. ,/!,z!S, pp. 127-135). The next document to be considered is directly addressed to all Catholic colleges and universities, as well as to seminaries and religious houses o~ study. The document is a decree of the Holy Office, dated February 2, 1956, and published in .zlz'lS, pp. 144-145. The decree is concerned with that system of thought which is termed situation ethics. This type of ethics, says the decred, is characterized by the opinion that the ultimate and decisive norm for human action is not objective reality, but rather the internal judgment and intuition which each individual ~orms in the presence of each concrete situation in which he finds himself. This judgment and intuition do not consist in the application of a general objective law to a particular case, but are immediate acts of the intellect which, at least in _.many cases, are neither measured nor measurable by any objective norm. The Holy Office points out that many o~ the teachings of this situation ethics are .contrary to reason, are vestiges of rela-tivism and modernism, and depart from traditional Catholic teaching. Hence the Holy Office. by this decree forbids that situation ethics--by whatever name it may be callednshould be taught or approved in any university, college, seminary, or re-ligious house of study. Similarly it is forbidden to propagate the same doctrine in books, dissertations, conferences, or in. any other way. 28 January, 1957 ROMAN DOCUMENTS Many Catholic colleges and schools in this country annually conduct .Scripture meetings or conventions of one kind or another; such institutions then will be affected by an instruction issued by the Biblical Commission on December 15, 1955, and officially published in ,:/.~!S, pp. 61-64. The purpose of the instruc-tion is to lay down norms that henceforth should govern all biblical associations and meetings. The instruction first notes that all biblical associations, their acti:,ities, and their projects are to be subject to the competent ordinary. In the case of diocesan associations or conventions, the competent ordinary is the ordinary .of that diocese. If, however, the association or convention is inter-diocesan then the competent ordinary is the ordinary in whose diocese the presiding officer of the association has his headquarters or the ordinary of ~the diocese where the meeting or convention is to be held. New biblical associations or groups are not to be organized except with the approbation of the competent ordinary, whose duty it is. to examine and approve their statutes. Moreover, the presiding officer of every biblical association or group must annually give to the competent ordinary a report covering the status, membership, and activities of his organization. Conven-tions, such as Bible Weeks orBible Days, in which the audience is composed of persons who are not professional students of Scripture, may not be held without the consent and approbation of the competent ordinary. The same ordinary should be previ-ously informed of the matters to be discussed in such meetings and the speakers who will treat of them. After such meetings the presiding officer should submit to the same ordinary a brief report, giving the topics, discussions, and conclusions of the meeting. He should also send the same report to the secretary of the Biblical Commission, together with a copy of the conven-tion program and a list of the speakers. The above norms concerning conventions do not apply to those meetings or conventions which are intended for profes-sors of Sacred Scripture and for others qualified for the sciem 29 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious tific examination and discussion of biblical matters. Meetings of such persons, however, should be conducted in accordance with Catholic doctrine and the directives of the Holy See. From these meetings of Scripture specialists, non-specialists should be ex-cluded. Those in charge of conventions or meetings for non-spe-cialists should see to it that the matters treated in such meetings contribute to genuine progress in faith and in the spiritual life and that they stimulate a sincere love for Scripture. Speakers at such meetings should be well-versed in Scripture and under-stand besides the intellectual and spiritual background of their audiences. They should present for consideration matters that are clearly and well established rather than present difficulties or treat of matters that remain doubtful. When, however, it seems advisable to treat of difficulties and objections, these should be proposed objectively and honestly and given a sound answer based on scientific considerations. For Nurses and Doctors Two documents of the Holy Father during the period treated in this article will be of special interest to those religious who are engaged in hospital work and the care of the sick. The first of these documents is the text of the allocution given by the Holy Father to an international convention in Rome of per-sons engaged in the care of lepers. For the most part the allo-cution is devoted to a statement of the present status of medical science in regard to the cure of leprosy; but towards the end of the allocution the Holy Father makes a statement that surely applies not only to the treatment of lepers but also to all care for the sick. The statement is to the effect that while in the treatment, rehabilitation, and social reorientation of lepers science and technique are important, the chief requisite is that of love for the leper. Hospital religious will also be interested in the remarks of Pius XII made on January 8, 1956, to an interriational group of doctors on the subject of natural painless childbirth 3O .Janizary, 1957 ROMAN DOCUMENTS pp. 82-93). This method employs no artificial means such as drugs, but utilizes only the natural psychological and physical forces of the mother. Considered in itself, says the Pontiff, this method contains nothing objectionable from the viewpoint of morality. It should, moreover, be remembered that though some of the scientists who elaborated this method were men whose ideology was largely materialistic, still the method itself is independent. of such ideology and contains nothing that is repugnant to the convinced Christian. Nor is it to be feared that this method of painless childbirth is contrary to the teaching ot~ Scripture con-tained in Genesis 3, 16: "In sorrow shalt thou bring forth chil-dren"; for the meaning of this passage, notes the Holy Father, is that motherhood will bring to the mother much that she will have to bear patiently. On Worship Not a few documents of the early part of 1956 .treat of matters that pertain in some way to the Church's life of worship, and it is these that must now be considered. The most important of these documents was a declaration of the Sacred Congregation of Rites concerning certain aspects of the new Holy Week serv-ices. The declaration is dated March 15, 1956, (AAS, pp. 153-154). The declaration begins by recalling that in the documents previously published regarding the revised services of Holy Week a distinction was made between the solemn celebration of these services (that is, with sacred ministei's) and the simple ceIebration of the same (that is, without such ministers). Since certain doubts have arisen with regard to these matters, the Sacred Congregation has decided to issue the following clarifica-tions. First of all, the liturgical services of Palm Sunday, Holy Thursday, Good Friday, and the Easter Vigil can be celebrated in the solemn way in all churches and in all public and semi-public oratories where there is a sufficient number of sacred min-isters. However, in churches and in public and semi-public 31 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious oratories where there is not a sufficient number of sacred min- ¯ isters, these same services can be celebrated in the simple way. For the simple celebration of these services, however, a sufficient number of servers (clerical or non-clerical) must be available. At least three such servers must be had for the services of Palm Sunday and for those of Holy Thursday, while four are re, quired for the liturgical services of Good Friday and of the Easter Vigil. It is furthermore required that all these servers be care-fully instructed in the duties they are to perform at these services. According to this declaration, therefore, a double condition is required for the simple celebration of the liturgical services of Holy Week: a sufficient number of servers and a careful train-ing of them. Local ordinaries are to see to it that this double condition for the simple celebration of the services of Holy Week be exactly fulfilled. This same declaration of the Congregation of Rites con-tinues by directing that the liturgical services of Good Friday must always be held in those churches and oratories where on Holy Thursday there takes place the transference and reposition of the Blessed Sacrament after either the simple or the solemn celebration of the Mass for Holy Thursday. Moreover, if for any reason even the simple celebration of "the Mass for Holy Thursday is impossible, the local ordinary can for pastoral reasons permit the celebration of two low Masses in churches and public oratories and one low Mass in semi-public oratories. The time of the celebration of these low Masses must be in accordance with the times specified for Holy Thursday in the original revision of the Holy Week services. With regard to the Easter Vigil the Sacred Congregation declares that the liturgical services of this Vigil can be cele-brated in those churches and oratories where the services of Holy Thursday and Good Friday were not performed; similarly too, the same Vigil services' can be omitted in those churches and oratories where the functions of Holy Thursday and Good Friday were held. 32 January, 1957 ROMAN DOCUMENTS The final declaration of the Congregation of Rites is con-cerned with the question of bination during Holy Week. The Congregation directs that in the case of priests who have. the care of two or more parishes the local ordinary can permit bination on Holy Thursday and for the Mass of the Easter Vigil and can likewise allow a repetition~ of the liturgical function bf Good Friday. Such bination and repetition, however, may not be permitted in the same parish; and, where such bination and repe-tition are allowed, the norms for the time of the celebration of the functions of Holy Thursday and of the Easter Vigil must be adhered to, as they are set forth in the original decree on the revision of Holy .Week. Another decree of the Sacred Congregation of Rites, this one dated April 24, 1956 (AAS, p. 237), approves the texts for the new Office, Mass, and Martyrology insert for the feast of St. Joseph the Worker. Thdse texts are to be found in AAS, pp. 226-236. The same decree definitively assigns the feast of St. Joseph the Worker to May 1 with the liturgical rank of a double of the first class. The feast of the Apostles Philip and James is permanently transferred to May 11 with appro-priate changes in the Martyrology. The feast of the Solemnity of St. Joseph is henceforth abolished and th~ title "Patron of the Universal Church," formerly attached to the feast of the Solemnity, is in the future to be attached to the principal feast of the saint which is celebrated on March 19. Three documents of the Congregation of Rites may next be noted; they concern various beatification and canonization processes. In AAS, pp. 223-226, is given a decree of the Con-gregation affirming the heroic virtues of Venerable Pope Innocent XI (who has since been beatified). In a second decree (AAS, pp. 221-222), the Congregation approved the reassumption of the cause for the canonization of Blessed Mary Teresa de Soubi-ran, while a third degree (AAS, pp. 149-152) approved the introduction of the cause for beatification of the Servant ef God, 33 R. F. SMITH Review fo~" Religious Basil Anthony Moreau, founder of the Congregation of the Holy Cross. The last of the documents which concern in some way the Church's life of worship is an apostolic letter of the Holy Father, dated March 11, 1955, but published in the 1956 ,~/,/!S, pp. 259-260. In this apostolic letter the Holy Father declares that henceforth St. Zita of Lucca is the heavenly patron of all girls and women employed in domestic work. Varia The last part of this survey will be concerned with a brief summary of ~. few papal documents which fall outside the group-ings under which the other documents were considered. On Feb-ruary 14, 1956, the Holy Father addressed the parish priests and the Lenten preachers of Rome. His speech (,4AS, pp. 135-141) consisted of a lengthy exhortation that his listeners grow in a deep charity for each other-and for the souls entrusted to their care. Speaking to an Italian farm group on April I 1, 1956, the Pontiff (AAS, pp. 277-282) extolled the rural way of life and encouraged farmers to live up to the duties of their state and occupation. ,qAS for 1956 also includes the text of the speech which the Pope delivered on November 10, 1955, to the Eighth Session of the Conference of the Food and .Agricultural Organi- .zadon. The speech was concerned with the worldwide need for soil conservation and improvement; and the Holy Father noted with insistence that the love which prompts the study of such matters can be rooted only in the love that God Himself has for mankind. Finally it may be noted that the Holy Office by two decrees (ACACS pp. 95-96) has condemned and placed on the Index of Forbidden Books three" works by A. Hesnard: Morale sans pech~," L'univers morbide de la faute," Manuel de sexologie norrnale et pathologique," and a book by Aldo Capitani entitled Religione aperta. B4 January, 1957 ROMAN DOCUMENTS This concludes the present summary of papal documents published between January 1, 1956, and May 31, 1956. The article has made no attempt to summarize those documents which appeared during the same period and which deal with the divi-sion or establishment of dioceses, with curial appointments, with anniversary congratulations, and so forth, since these documents are in general of limited interest and importance. The next survey will cover the documents published in the 1956 between June 1, 1956, and September 30, 1956. SOME BOOKS RECEIVED ['Only books sent directly" to the Book Review Editor, West Baden College, West Baden Springs, Indiana, are included in our Reviews and Announcements. The following books were sent to St. Marys.] The Papal Encyclicals in Their Historical Context. Edited by Anne Fremantle. New American Library of Woi'ld Literature, Inc., 501 Madi-son Ave., N. Y. 22, N.Y. $.50 (paper cover). Le Droit Des Religieux d'u Concile de Trente aux Instituts S~culiers. By Dom Robert Lemoine, O.S.B. Desclge De Brouwer & Cie, 22, Quai au Bois, Bruges, Belgique. 400 Ft. ,4 Catholic Child's Picture Dictionary. By Ruth Harmon. Catecheti-cal Guild Educational Society, St. Paul 2, Minnesota. $1.50. Ursulines in Training. By Sister Mary Gertrude, O.S.U. Toledo, Ohio. The Church and Its People. From Catholic Digest Reader. Cate-chetical Guild, 260 Summit Ave., St. Paul 2, Minnesota. $.50. Enthronement of the Sacred Heart. By Reverend Francis Larkin, SS.CC. Catechetical Guild, 260 Summit Ave., St. Paul 2, Minnesota. $.50. Spiritual Guidance and the Uarieties o[ Character. By Reverend Henry J, Simoneaux, O.M.I. Pageant Press, Inc., 130 W. 42nd St., N. Y. 36, N.Y. $5.00. Blueprint for Christian Living. By Our Lady of Victory Missionary Sisters. Our Lady of Victory Press, Victory Noll, Huntington, Indiana. $.25. Catholic Pioneers in West .4[rica. By M. J. Bane, S.M.A. Clonmore & Reynolds Ltd., Kildare Street, Dublin. Le Patronage De Saint Joseph. Adtes du Congr~s d'~tudes tenu ~ l'Oratoire Saint-Joseph, Montreal, ler-9 ao~t 1955. Fides Editions, 25 St. James St. East, Montreal. $10.00. Russia l/l/ill Be Converted. By John M. Haffert. Ave Maria Insti-tute, Washington, New Jersey. $1.00 (paper cover). Di~est of Christ's Parables /or Preacher, Teacher, and Student. ° By Bernard J. Lefrois, S.SCR.D. Divine Word Publications, Techny, Illinois. 35 Papal Cloist:er ot: Nuns Joseph I:::. Gallen, L General Matters 1. General /agvs that govern papal cloister of nuns. The explanation that follows is based on all the general laws now in force on the papal cloister of nuns. These are the Code of Canon Law (cc. 514, § 2; 540, § 3; 597; 599-603; 605-606, § l; 1230, § 5; and 2342, 1°, 3°); the apostolic constitution, Sponsa Ghristi; the general statutes appended to this consti-tution; the instruction, Inter praeclara, of the Sacred Congre-gation of Religious, November 23, 19501; and the instruction of the same congregation, Inter cetera, March 25, 1956.-0 The instruction of the Sacred Congregation of Religious, Nuper edito, February 6, 1924, has been abrogated.~ 2. Purpose of papal cloister. The purpose of papal cloister, whether major or minor, is to facilitate and protect the observ-ance of the solemn vow of chastity and to foster the contempla-tive life. 3. On whom obliyatory? Monasteries of nuns are houses of religious women in which solemn ; ows are either actually taken or should be taken according to their institute, even though because, of a temporary exception only simple vows are still taken. Among the nuns found in the United States are: Bene-dictines of the Primitive Observance, Carmelites of the Ancient Observance, Discalced Carmelites, Cistercians of the Strict Ob-servance, Poor Clares, Dominicans of the Second Order, Do-minicans of the Perpetual Rosary, Franciscans of the Most Blessed Sacrament, Nuns of the Perpetual Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament, Nuns of the Order of Our Lady of Charity of Ref- 1The last three of the documents cited are found in English in Bouscaren, Canon Law Di#est, III, 221-48. 2,4cta ,4postolicae Sedis, 48-1956-512-26. 3Bouscaren, op. cit., I, 314-20. 36 PAPAL CLOISTER OF NUNS uge, Sacramentines, Ursulines, and Visitandines. Papal cloister, major or minor, must exist in all canonically erected monasteries of nuns, formal and non-formal, no matter how small the number of nuns (c. 597, § 1). The obligation of papal cloister in a new monastery or its restoration in an existing monastery begins from the moment determined in writing by the local ordinary. The following matters are to be referred to the Holy See: tem-porary or habitual special difficulties that impede the restoration of papal cloister; doubts as to whether the cloister should be major or minor; and a transition from major to minor cloister. The name and canonical state of nuns may not be retained without at least minor papal cloister; and any contrary statutes, indults, privileges, or dispensations are revoked. Common or episcopal cloister is no longer recognized for monasteries of nuns. If it is certain that not even minor cloister can be observed, the monastery is to be converted into a house of either a religious.congregation or a society of women living in common without public vows. Concessions granted by the Holy See that do not exclude papal cloister, as also special statutes that in greater detail determine and adapt minor cloister for orders of nuns engaged in works of the apostolate, remain in force. 4. Monasteries of major cloister. Major cloister is to exist in all monasteries that profess the purely contemplative life: a. as a matter of law if solemn vows are actually taken in the monastery; b. if possible, it should exist also when only simple vows are by indult and exception still taken in the monastery. However, minor cloister, especially as regards the punishment of a violation for going out (n. 25),.t may be granted to the latter type of monastery and also pr:ldently adapted according to the individual case. With the approbation of the Holy See, a monastery of purely contemplative life may retain major cloister, even though the Apostolic See, for serious reasons and as long as these 4Numbers in the text which are preceded by n. are cross references to the numbered sections of this article. 37 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review ]or Religious reasons persist, may have imposed or permitted some works of the apostolate. However, in this case only a few nuns and only a small part of the monastery, clearly distinct and separate from the part in which the community resides and follows common life (n. 17), may be destined for such works. 5. Monasteries of minor cloister. Minor cloister must be used in monasteries of solemn or simple vows when many nuns and a notable part of the monastery are habitually destined for works of the apostolate. It appertains to the local ordinary along with the regular superior, if the monastery is in fact subject to the latter, to introduce minor cloister, unless the Holy Gee itself made provision for the particular monastery after the pro-mulgation of the apostolic constitution, Sponsa Christi. 6. Persons obliyed by papal cloister. All professed nuns of solemn or simple vows, even if only temporary, novices, and postulants have a grave obligation to observe papal cloister (c. 540, ~ 3; n. 15, c. 1°). Candidates enter the cloister to begin the postulancy with the permission of the local ordinary. If they are leaving or being dismissed, novices and postulants may depart from the monastery without any permission. The same free-dom of departure is true of professed who are leaving or have been excluded from further profession at the expiration of tem-porary vows and of all professed who are leaving or have been dismissed. II. Major Cloiste~ 7. Places within cloister (c. 597, ~ 2). These are the entire monastery and attached buildings in which the nuns reside, i. e., the cells or rooms of the nuns, dormitories, infirmary; the choir reserved for the nuns; the chapter room and similar places, such as the community, recreation, and study rooms, and the library; refectory, kitchen; places for recreation and walking, community workrooms; and the parts of the parlors destined for the nuns. Grounds and gardens contiguous to the monastery, if their 38 January, 1957 PAPAL CLOISTER OF NUNS entrance is only from within the monastery, or, when there is another entrance, that halve been reserved for the use of the religious, are within the cloister. The cloister extends also to other places frequented by the nuns. The cloister should be indicated at least by a locked door and preferably by a sign such as Cloister, Enclosure, Reserved for Religious, Private, Entrance Forbidden (c. 597, § 3; n. 17). The determination and change of the boundaries of cloister appertain to the local ordinary, even if the monastery is subject to regulars. The boundaries may. be changed permanently for a serious reason or temporarily for a proportionate or reasonable cause (c. 597, § 3; nn. 9, 17, 19). 8. Places outside cloister (c. 597, § 2). These are the parts of the parlors destined for externs; the church and chapel, with the exception of the choir reserved for the nuns; the sacristy and adjoining places accessible to the clergy and ministers; the part of the confessional used by the confessor; ~ the dwellings in which the extern sisters reside; and the sections destined for chaplains and guests. One monastery obtained an indult that permitted the nuns to enter the chapel reserved for the public and also the sacristy, provided the doors were closed, for the adoration of the Blessed Sacrament during the day on Holy Thursday and also during the night until the morning of Good Friday (n. 9). 9. Places temporarily within cloister. If it is really neces-sary at times for the nuns to attend to the church, sacristy, and adjoining places destined for worship, the local ordinaries may permit that cloister be extended to these, places during the time of such work. They may similarly permit the temporary exten-sion of cloister to the sections of the parlors destined for externs and to other places adjoining the monastery if, because of the lack of extern sisters or other reasons, it is. considered really necessary that the nuns at times perform some work in these places. All the 39 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious precautions prescribed below for the 'protection of cloister are to be observed in these places during such times (n. 15, a.). 10. Entrance and visibilily to be excluded (c. 602). The parts within cloister are not only to be safeguarded against any entrance but, as far as possible, the enclosure should be such that the nuns within cannot see nor be seen by persons outside. Therefore, the grounds and gardens are to be surrounded by a high wall or in some other effective manner, e. g., by a board fence, an iron or metal meshed fence, or a thick and solid hedge, according to the judgment of the local ordinary and the regular superior, consideration being given especially to the location, frequency of approach of seculars, and similar circumstances. Windows facing a street, neighboring houses, or permitting any communication whatever with externs are to be of opaque glass or furnished with stationary shutters or lattice work, so that the view in and out will be excluded. The nuns may have access to a terrace or place for walking on the roof of the monastery only if it is surrounded by a screen or some other effective means. Unless this is forbidden by their own stricter law, papal cloister does not prevent nuns from being able to see the altar; but they themselves should not be able to be seen by the faithful. 11. Parlors and comportment in the parlor. As far as possible, the parlors should be located near the door of the mon-astery (c. 597, ~ 2). The section of the parlor destined for the nuns is to be separated from the part intended for externs by two grilles, set apart from each other by some space and securely fixed, or by some other effective means to avoid the possibility of touch by persons on each side. The latter means is to be determined by the local ordinary and the regular superior, who have an obligation of conscience in this matter. The constitutions govern the nuns with regard to the pat~lors, i. e., the time and frequency of entrance, the quality of persons to be admitted, the comportment of the nuns, e. g., whether the grille or their faces should be veiled, the presence of a companion, etc. If the 40 January, 1957 PAPAL CLOISTER OF NUNS constitutions appear to require any adaptation in this respect, recourse is to be made to the Holy See. The constitutions com-monly prescribe that conversations with externs are to be "avoided as much as possible, are not to be protracted, that the nuns are not to occupy themselves with worldly or useless "matters, and are to be religiously edifying in their deportment. Superiors are obliged to take care that the prescriptions of the constitutions regarding the reception of visitors are faithfully observed (c. 606, ~ I). Local o~dinaries, regular superiors, and the superi-oresses are also obliged to exercise careful vigilance that the visits of externs neither relax religious discipline nor weaken the religious spirit by useless conversation (c. 605). 12. Tnrn. At the door of the monastery, in parlors, the sac-risty, and wherever it is needed, a turn or double box, according to the accepted usage, shrill be inserted in the wall, through which necessary articles can be passed. Small openings are permitted in the turn to see what is being put into it. 13. Going oul o/ cloisler (c. 601, § 1). Without the per-mission of the Holy See, all obliged by major cloister are for-bidden to go outside its limits as determined by ecclesiastical authority even for a short time and fbr any reason whatever except in the cases provided for in law. a. Aro! permilled. It is not permitted to leave the enclosure on the occasion of a clothing, profession, C6mmunion, or similar matter. Without the permission of'the Holy See, nuns may not pass, even for a short time, from one monastery to another of the same or a different order, except in the cases contained in the apprc.ved statutes of a federation (n. 27 a-c.). b, Crises o/going ou/ provided for in law (c. 601). These cases, if time permits, are to be previously authenticated by the local ordinary in writing; if not, he is to be informed afterwards of .the departure from cloister. 1° Imminent danger of death or of other very serious evil, such as fire, flood, earthquake, a weakening of the building or walls in danger of falling, air 41 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious attacks, military invasion, and the urgent requisition of the mon-astery by military or civil authority. 2° A grave and urgent surgical" operation or other grave and urgent medical care re-quired outside the cloister to save health, and a disease of anyone that is actually dangerous to .the whole community. 3° If the same grave and urgent necessity arises in an extern sister or anyone performing her duties and she would otherwise be with-out proper assistance, the superioress personally or through another nun may go to her and may also take a companion. The local ordinaries of the United States possess the lowing faculty: "To permit nuns to leave the cloister to undergo a surgical operation, even though there is no danger of death or of very great harm, for such time as may be strictly necessary, and with proper precautions.''5 Necessary and urgent dental work that cannot be performed within the monastery is included in this faculty. The apostolic delegate has the faculty: "To, allow nuns in case of sickness or for other just and grave reasons to live outside the religious house for a time to be fixed at their prudent discretion, on condition, however, that they shall always have the association and assistance of their relatives by blood or marriage or of some other respectable woman, that they shall live at home and elsewhere a religious life free from the society of men, as becomes virgins consecrated to God, and without prejudice to the prescription of canon 639.''~ c. For civil rights and duties. It is also permitted, after a declaration by the local ordinary, to go out of the cloister when it is obligatory to exercise civil rights or fulfill civil duties. d. Dispensations and habitual faculties obtainable from the Holy See. Absolute moral necessities and important practical purposes are su~cient reasons for requesting proportionate dis- 5Bouscaren, 0/~. cit., II, 37; cf. Creusen, Revue des Communaut~s Religieuses, 3-1927-134; Bastien, Directoire Canonique, n. 713; Barry, l/iolation o[ the Cloister, 220-21. 6Bouscaren, op. cir., I, 184; Creusen, ibid., 134-35; Bastien, ibid.; Barry, ibid., 222-23; Vermeersch, Periodica, 12-1924-(145)-(146). 42 January, 1957 PAPAL CLOISTER OF NUNS pensations and also moderate and accurately defined habitual faculties from the Holy See. The latter, whether for a deter-mined time or number of cases, can be prudently granted to local ordinaries, regular ordinaries, or religious assistants for brief departures in the case of frequently occurring necessities. Such faculties are always to be exercised in the name of the Holy See; they may not be extended; and the limits and safeguards imposed are always to be accurately observed in the use of a dispensation or faculty. The following are examples of the necessities and practical purposes mentioned above: care of health outside the monastery; to visit a doctor, particularly a specialist, e. g., for the eyes, teeth, the application of x-rays, and for medical observation; to accompany or visit a sick nun outside the mon-astery; to supply for the deficiency of extern sisters or similar persons; to exercise supervision over farms, lands, buildings, or the dwellings occupied by extern sisters; to perform very im-portant acts of administration or business management that otherwise could not be carried out at all or only unsatisfactorily or poorly; monastic labor, whether apostolic or manual; the entrance upon an office in another monastery; and similar matters. Several monasteries of the United States had already obtained indults from the Holy See under one or some of the headings listed above. The permission for a companion to a sick nun has been restricted in very recent indults to an absence of one to three days. e. Conduct outside the monastery. Nuns are to go directly and only to the pl.ace for which the permission was granted. They are strictly obliged to observe the norms and safeguards prescribed for similar cases by c. 607, which forbids religious women to go out of the house alone except in a case of necessity, and those prescribed by the Holy See or enacted for religious women by local ordinaries. 14. Admission of externs into cloister (c. 600). Without the permission of the Holy See, no person whatever, of any age or sex, may be admitted into the cloister of nuns. Unlike the papal 43 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious cloister of male regulars and the common cloister of congrega-tions, the papal cloister of nuns excludes also all persons of the same sex. The following are exempt from this prohibition and may be admitted without the permission of the Holy See. a. Canonical visitors (c. 600, 1°). The local ordinary, the regular superior of monasteries subject to him in fact, and a visitor delegated by either of the preceding or by the Holy See are permitted to enter and remain in the cloister only in the act of the canonical .visitation and only to the extent and time neces-sary for the local inspection, i. e., of buildings, gardens, etc. The visitor is to be accompanied into the cloister by at least one and preferably .two clerics or religious men, even if lay brothers, of mature age. He may take three such companions. Thirty-five can be considered mature age, but the norm may also be based on character rather than on age. The companion is to remain with the visitor the whole time that the latter is within the cloister. The visitation of persons is to be conducted in the parlor, the visitor remaining outside cloister, except in the case of infirm nuns who cannot come to the parlor. All other parts of the visitation, as also the canonical exam-ination of postt:lants, novices, and professed, the presiding over elections, the ceremonies of clothing and profession, and all other duties must be conducted from outside the cloister. b. Priests may enter the cloister only for the following min-istries. 1° Confession of the sick (c. 600, 2°). For this purpose, the following confessors may.enter the cloister: the ordinary of the community, special ordinary~ extraordinary, supplementary, the confessor of seriously sick religious women, and any priest, even one not approved for confessions, with regard to a nun in danger of death. For confession, as also for extreme unction and the assistance of the dying, two nuns are to accompany the confessor to the cell of the sick hurt and, after the confession or ministrations, to conduct him immediately to the cloister exit. 44 January, 1957 PAPAL CLOISTER OF NUNS 2° Communion of the sidk, extreme unction, and the assis-tance of the dying (cc. 514, § 2; 600, 2°). For these, the cloister may be entered by the ordinary confessor of the com-munity or his substitute and, if these cannot be had, by any other priest. The~ substitute is the priest appointed at least implicitly for this duty by the local ordinary or by the ordinary confessor himself.7 Usually the substitute will be the chaplain or a priest who says Mass in the monastery. In the administration of Com-munion, the priest is to be accompanied by at least two nuns from his entrance until he leaves the cloister; if custom~iry, the entire community may accompany the Blessed Sacrament in procession. 3° Burial of the dead. The same priests as in the preceding paragraph and the ministers according to the rubrics may enter the cloister, where customary, for the burial of the dead.8 4° Host dropped within cloister. A priest ma~, enter the cloister to pick up the Host; or a nun may pick up the Host with the paten, a clean piece of paper, or her fingers and either consume it, if she has not already communicated~ or give it to the priest. c. Supreme rulers and their wives (c. 600, 3°). While actually in power, even if not Catholics, kings, emperors, presi-dents of republics, and the governors of our states may enter the cloister with their retinue. The same is true of a woman who holds the supreme power in the state, with her retinue. This exemption does not apply to those who have been elected to, but have not as yet entered on, the office of supreme power, nor to persons who held supreme power in the past but do not hold it now, nor to cabinet members, senators, and congressmen. A wife in the sense of this canon is one who is commonly held as such, even though the marriage is invalid, e. g., because of a previous" marriage. She and her retinue may be admitted into 7Cf. Fanfanl, De Iure Reli.qiosorum, nn. 150; 310, 2°; 416. 8Cf. cc. 1230, § 5; 1231, § 2. 45 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review fo~ Religious the cloister. The exemption is not confined to the country of the ruler and his wife but extends to all countries. The retinue in all these cases may consist of men or women or both. d. Cardinals (c. 600, 3°). Cardinals may enter the cloister in any country and may take with them one or two clerics or laymen of their household. e. Those whose work is necessary (c. 600, 4°). Doctors, surgeons, nurses, others competent in the care of the sick, stretcher bearers, architects, skilled workmen, other workmen, and similar persons, whose work is necessary for the monastery in the judgment of the superioress, may enter the cloister. For these, the superioress should previously obtain at least the habitual approval of the local ordinary. She may do so by presenting to him at the beginning of the year a list of all the persons whose services will most probably be required during the year. Permission may be legitimately presumed for their entrance when it is urgently necessary and su~cient time is lack-ing for recourse to the local ordinary. f. Nuhs traveling. It is not improbable that on a legitimate journey a nun of the same or a different order, if in the latter case there is no other suitable lodging, may be admitted into the cloister. If possible, the previous approbation of the local ordinary is to be obtained.9 g. Character and conduct of and with those admilted. Those frequently admitted into the cloister should be of very good reputation and high moral conduct. All who enter are to be conducted by two nuns through the monastery at their entrance and departure, and any stricter norms of the particular order are also to be observed. Externs are never to remain within the cloister longer than is necessary for the permitted entrance, and only the nuns obliged to do so by their office are to talk with them. The constitutions often prescribe that a bell 9Cf. Schaefer, De Religiosis, n. 1170; De Carlo, Jus Religiosorum, 303-04; Jombart, Trait~ de Droit Canonique, 645-46; Barry', 0i0. tit., 178-81. 46 January, 1957 PAPAL CLOISTER OF NUNS is to signal the presence of any extern in the cloister, that the nuns may veil their faces or withdraw from that part of the cloister. 15. May not be admitted, a. Preachers. Preaching is to be done from outside the grille of the choir or parlor. If this is inconvenient, the Holy See may be petitioned to permit preach-ing within the choir or in the chapter room; or, with the consent of the local ordinary, the preaching may be done in the church. In the last case, the doors are to be closed and the cloister is to be temporarily extended to the church during the time that the nuns are present (n. 9). b. For education and similar purposes. Without the special permission of the Holy See, girls and women may not be ad-mitted into the cloister to be educated, for a brief experiment of their vocation, or for other reasons of piety or of the apos-tolate. c. Extern sisters may not be admitted into the cloister except in the cases permitted by the general statutes on extern sisters and the approved statutes of the particular monastery. For wider permission of entrance or of residence, recourse must be made to the Holy See. The entrances permitted by the general statutes are: 1° Novice extern sisters enter the papal enclosure in the section destined for the lay sister novices only for the canonical, year of noviceship, during which they are obliged by the law of cloister, and for the two months in the second year before first profession. 2° Extern sisters may enter the enclosure occasionally, not ha-bitually, when their work is judged necessarywithin the enclosure but only for as brief a period as possible. At least the habitual approval of the. local ordinary should have been previously secured. 3° If an extern sister is afflicted with an infirmity whose nature and gravity will not permit that she be properly cared for in the 47 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious residence of the extern sisteri, she is to be taken to the infirmary within the enclosure. The permissior~ of the local ordinary is necessary but that of the superioress suffices in an urgent case. Extern sisters who are so old that they can no longer perform their duties and those who are equally incapacitated by other causes may also, with the permission of the local ordinary, be brought within the papal enclosure.1° One monastery of the United States has an indult permit-ting extern sisters, novices, and postulants to enter the cloister for meals, rest, recreation, community labors, sacramental con-fession, spiritual exercises, retreats, and instructions. A similar indult permits the extern sisters to enter for exposition of the Most Blessed Sacrament, spiritual reading, recreation, meals, and to help with the sewing and garden work. 'Ar~ indult of two other monasteries permits entrance for funerals and approxi-mately once a month for recreation to extern sisters, novices, and postulants, including those of other monasteries of the same order who happen to be present. A like indult permits the entrance of extern sisters twelve times a year for recreation on specia~l feasts and also for professional services, e. g., of the dentist or optometrist. An indult has also been obtained that permits the nun who is infirmarian to visit and assist extern sisters who are sick but not sufficiently to be brought to the in-firmary within the enclosure. III. Minor Cloister 16. Specific purpose. Minor cloister gives to a monastery an appropriate facility for the fruitful exercise of selected ministries that have been legitimately entrusted to nuns by their own institute or the concession or prescriptions of the Church. The only ministries permitted are those in keeping with the character and spirit of the paiticular order, that are readily compatible with the contemplative life of the monastery and of the indi-vidual nuns, and whose ordered and regulated exercise rather lOStatua a 8ororibus Externis Serq;anda, nn. 31, 36, 3, 107. 48 January, 1957 PAPAL CLOISTER OF NUNS nourishes and strengthens such a life than disturbs or impedes it. Such are the teaching of Christian doctrine, religious instruction, the education of girls and boys, retreats and religious exercises for women, preparation for First Communion, works oi: charity for the relief of the sick, the poor, etc. 17. Separation into two parts (q. 599, § 1). A monastery that has minor cloister because of ministries is to be clearly and com-pletely divided into two parts, one reserved for the living quar-ters and monastic exercises of the nuns, the other destined the ministries. Access to the latter part must therefore be pos-sible both to the nuns legitimately engaged in the ministries and to the externs connected with the works. It: the monastery has only one street entrance, another interior and properly safe-guarded door must be had by which externs can enter the section devoted to the ministries. Each part of the cloister is to be clearly indicated, so that all can distinguish the two sec-tions (n. 7). It appertains to the local ordinary to determine the boundaries of the section reserved to the community (n. 7) and to authenticate and approv~ the designation and necessary separation of the two sections. One adaptation of minor cloister (n. 3) states: "The sec-tion destined for the works should be connected with the mon-astery and therefore is not to be located outside the confines of the monastery. By exception and with the approval of the Holy See, it may be permitted that works be undertaken in proximity to the monastery and in special circumstances, as in mission territories, greater exceptions may be made." 18. Section reserved to the nuns. This is to contain the same places as those within the enclosure in major cloister (nn. 7-12). 19. Section devoted to the ministries. The part ot? the mon-astery parlors destined for externs, other places adjoining the monastery, the church, public oratory, and connected places are as a matter of law to be outside the section devoted to the min-istries (n. 9). An exception may be made for halls and rooms 49 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious legitimately reserved for works of the apostolate in the church or connected places. In a case of necessity and with the permis-sion of the local ordinary, even an entire church that is habitually open to the faithful may be considered as part of this section during tl~e time that the nuns must exercise their proper works in it. Prudent safeguards are to L'e maintained. Places may not be alternately reserved for the community and used for works of the apostolate (n. 7). However, for a reasonable cause, the iocal ordinary may permit in individual cases or even for a certain definite period of time that some places habitually used for the works be reserved to the community (n. 7). All rules and prescriptions on the habitual residence of the community then extend to such places (n. 9). This section also should be such that the nuns within cannot see no: be seen by persons outside. If this cannot be attained with the same rigor as in the section reserved to the nuns (n. 10), the local ordinary shall substitute pruden~ and determined provisions. 20. Passage of the nuns from the community section to that of the works. a. The nuns are to use a special door and always go directly. b. Entrance into the section for the works is allowed only for reasons of the works at legitimately determined times and only to those nuns whom the superioress has assigned for individual cases or habitually, according to the constitutions or statutes, to the works. The superioress or a nun delegated by her is to be classed among such nuns, even if the sole purpose of her passage is to exercise proper vigilance. c. There are to be special parlors in the section devoted to the works in which nuns legitimately present in this section may talk with externs, but only on matters concerned with the works. These parlors need not necessar.ily have grilles but they are to be furnished with appropriate safeguards. 21. Going out front a monastery of minor cloister. This is forbidden in the same way as going out from the enclosure 50 January, 1957 PAPAL CLOISTER OF NUNS of major cloister (n. 13). Dispensations from this grave pro-hibition may b~ given only for necessary reasons of the apos-tolate and only to the nuns and members legitimately assigned to the works. The superioress may give nuns permission to go out for the reasons admitted as licit below and in the particular constitutions, but she is obliged in conscience to confine this permission to the time during which the reasons certainly exist. For other reasons not expressly stated in law but that clearly seem to be equal, she is to recur to the local ordinary. The latter, after he has carefully considered the matter, may grant the permission and may also remit its concession in the future to the superioress. The local ordinary and the regular superior are strictly obliged in conscience to exercise careful vigilance over the observance of these norms. The three headings from which usually the necessities of the ministries can be judged capable of giving a licit reason for going out are: a. The effective exercise of the ministry demands the de-parture, e. g., if girls must be accompanied outside the mon-astery for reasons of study, health, or recreation and there are no secular women teachers, auxiliaries, or other persons who can perform this duty satisfactorily. b. Preparalion /or the ministries, i. e., for the acquisition of knowledge, culture, degrees,certificates and therefore for attendance at schools, colleges,universities, conferences, and congresses that appear necessary. If any of these seems so gecu-lar and worldly as to create a danger to religious virtues or of scandal, the local ordinary is always to be previously consulted. The instructions of the Holy See are to b~ observed in all cases. c. Business affairs, legal ntatters and questions appertaining to the ministries teat cannot be safely and properly handled and carried out through other persons with ecclesiastical or civil au-thorities or with public or private offices. 22. Adtnission of externs into minor cloister, a. Into the section reserved for the community. The laws on entrance of 51 JOSEPH F. GALLEN externs into major cloister section of minor cloister. (nn. 14-15) Review for Religious apply equally to this b. Into the section destined for the ministries. The following may be admitted into this section: 1° Women, .girls, or boys for whom the works are destined; and these may also reside in this section day and night according to the nature of the work. 2° The same is true of women necessary for the work, such as women teachers, nurses, maids, working women. 3° In indi-vidual cases persons who are linked by some special bond to those for whom the works are exercised, e. g., parents, relatives, or benefactors either accompanying or desiring to visit the girls or boys; these same persons and others who should be or whom it is becoming to invite, according to the nature of the work and local custom, to certain religious or scholastic festivities or pres-entations. The cases in 3° should be suitably determined in legitimately approved statutes or ordinations. 4° All who from either ecclesiastical or civil law have the right to any type of inspection. 5° Those who may be admitted into the part re-served for the community because of the necessity of their work (n. 14 e.) may also be admitted into the section destined for the works, and the same approval of the local ordinary is necessary. The permission of the local ordinary is necessary and .sufficient for all other entrances of necessity or real utility that are not contained above nor in the statutes on the works of the particular moriastery. IV. Custody of the Cloister 23. a. Immediate custody in tke monastery. The immediate custody of both major and minor cloister appertains to the su-perioress of the monaster)?. She herself is to retain night and day the keys of all the doors of major cloister and of the section for the community in minor cloister. These are to be given when necessary only to nuns whose duties require them. The constitutions frequently enact that such doors are to be locked 52 January, 1957 PAPAL CLOISTER OF NUNS with two distinct keys.1. The superioress.h~rself is also to retain the keys of the passage from one section to another in minor cloister or prudently gibe them to nuns occupied in the works. She is to entrust the keys of other doors in the section for the works only to completely trustworthy persons. Any other enact-ments of the particular monastery on the custody of the cloister are to be observed. b. Local ordinary and reyular superior.(c. 603). Vigilance over the custody of major cloister and the section for the com-munity in minor cloister appertains to the local ordinary, even if the monastery is subject to regulars, and also to the regular superior. The ordinary may punish any offender, including male regulars of any order, by penalties and censures; but privi-leges of particular orders that exclude the infliction of censures remain intact.12 The regular superior has the same power of punishment, but it is restricted to the nuns and his other subjects. c. Section for the works. The local ordinary and, if the monastery is subject to him in fact, the regular superior, as also, according to the norms of law., the authorities of federations, have the right and duty of exercising strict vigilance over the milder cloister of this section. If necessary, they may also enact appropriate safeguards for the custody and protection of thi~ cloister in addition to those contained in' the statutes of the monastery, V. Punishment 24. Excomtnunication reserved simply to the Holy See. The baptized persons of either sex specified below who, with certain knowledge of the pertinent boundary of cloister, of the prohibition, of punishment for the violation, and with certainly serious sin, violate in any of the following ways major cloister or the section reserved for the community in minor cloister incur llcf. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, November, 1956, pp. 284-85. 12Cf. Cappello, De Censuris, n. 21, 3. 53 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious by that very fact an excommunication reserved simply to the Holy See: a. Entering (c. 2342, 1°). All over fourteen complete years of age 13 who without permission fully enter either cloister. Those who enter legitimately but illicitly remain within the cloister do not incur the penalty. b. Introducing (c. 2342, 1°). All who from within or with-out introduce into .either cloister 'any over fourteen complete years of age14 who have no permission for entrance. To introduce is to bring or lead within, invite, induce, show the way or means of entrance, or open the door to the one who wish~s to enter. Clerics guilty of this or of the preceding crime are to be sus-pended and for a length of time to be determined, according to the gravity of the crime, by the .ordinary. c. Admitting (c. 2342, 1°). All within the cloister, such as the superioress and portress who have the office of preventing entrance, can prevent it, and either positively or negatively do not prevent the entrance of any over fourteen complete years of age14 who have no permission for entrance, but not if they do not expel those who have entered illegitimately. 25. Excommunication reserved simply to the Holy See or to the local ordinary. -- Going out (c. 2342, 3°). All nuns of solemn or simple vows, perpetual or temporary, who without per-mission go fully outside major cloister or the confines of the mon-astery in minor cloister, but not those who go out licitly but illegiti-mately remain outside, incur by that very fact an excommunication reserved simply to the Holy See. A nun who leaves momentarily but immediately returns escapes the punishment. Novices and pos-tulants sin gravely by going out without permission but they do not incur the excommunication, since they are not nuns in the strict sense of tl-:e term. Extern sisters do not incur this excommuni- 13 c. 2230. 14Cf. Cappello, 0/~. cir., n. 319, 4; Schaefer, 01~. cir., n. 1174; Coronata, Institutiones luris Canonici, IV, n. 1978; Sipos, Enchiridion luris Canonici, 319, note 22. 54 January, 1957 PAPAL CLOISTER OF NUNS cation because they are not nuns in any canonical sense. By an express concession of the Holy See, the excommunication for this species of the crime in minor cloister may be reserved to the local ordinary instead of simply to the Holy See (n. 4). 26. Punishable offences with regard to sections of the monastery not reserved to the community in minor cloister. a. Nuns who enter these parts without the permission of the superioress, at least h~ibitual or reasonably presumed, are to be punished by the superioress or ehe local ordinary according to the gravity of their action, b. Others who illicitly enter these parts, as well as those who introduce or admit them, are to be severely punished by the local ordinary of the monastery accord-ing to the gravity of their act. VI. Papal Cloister and Federations 27. E~'tactments that may b'e made in the statutes. The statutes of federations may make enactments on major or minor cloister that are judged necessary for the attainment of the pur-pose of the federation. a. On government. The faculty may be enacted of leaving one monastery and entering another to attend a chapter, council meeting, or similar gathering; for the authorities .of the federa-tion or their delegates to make suitable visitations; to summon or, according to t[:e norms of law, to transfer a superioress or other nun. b. To promote the fraternal collaboration of monasteries~ the same faculty may be established to enter on an elective or appointive office in another monastery; to give any type of aid or alleviate needs of another monastery; and even for the private good of a particular nun but only within the limits determined by the statutes. c. For the better formation of nuns. When common houses have been founded, the statutes may contain clearly determined provisions permitting nuns, when so appointed or recalled, to enter, remain, and return from such houses. 55 BOOK REVIEWS " Review for Religious d. For the uniform observance of cloister in the monas-teries of the federation, the statutes may make some enact-ments. For the same purpose, although the rights of the local ordinaries and regular superiors always remain intact, the statutes may prescribe the special intervention of the religious assistant or superioresses of the federation for petition~ to the Holy See on cloister, e. g., for extraordinary journeys,.a prolonged stay outside the monastery, and similar matters. e. For monasteries devoted to works and thus subject to minor cloister, the statutes may enact the works that may be undertaken, the persons who may be admitted habitually or in " individual cases into the section for the works, and may also prescribe the manner, conditions, and safeguards for such entrance. Book Reviews [Material for this department should be sent to Book Review Editor, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, West Baden College, West Baden Springs, Indiana.] AN IGNATIAN APPROACH TO DIVINE UNION. By Louis Peeters, S.J. Translated from the French by Hillard L. Brozowski, S.J. Pp. 114. The Bruce Publishing Company, Milwaukee 1. 1956. $3.00. Father Brozowski is to be congratulated and thanked for making available in English a work which first appeared in French over thirty years ago, and has through all that interval been crying for an English translation. It should prove also to be a most valuable and welcome con-tribution to the celebrations of the Ignatian Year. To many readers Father Peeters' little book may come like a revela-tion. Whole classes of men have come to look upon the mystics as starry-eyed dreamers, so occupied with the interests and satisfactions of another life that they have neither time nor inclination for traffic with the prob-lems and difficulties of the present life. And for them St. Ignatius was the saint of the practical life, the organizer, the trainer, the director, the law-maker, so immersed in the duties of the here and now that he 56 January, 1957 BOOK REVIEWS had no time for the joys of the then and there. - His role in their eyes was so practical as to be almost pedestrian. Father Brozowski's transla-tion will open those eyes to the true state of affairs, and let them see that ¯ all the time he was one of the greatest mystics of his own age, or of any age, as discerning readers of his autobiography, or the remains of his personal journal, or large sections of his vast correspondence have so well known. Father Peeters sets about correcting this picture, and he limits him-self to the 81~iritual Exercises, a little book which some might think pro-vides very unpromising material to prove a thesis in mysticism. Without any far-fetched interpretations, or any clever manipulation of texts, he shows with a clearness brighter than day that St. Ignatius not only leads his exercitant right up to the gates of the mystical life, but that he actually takes it for granted that, in the course of the Exercises, when they are made in their entirety, and according to the instructions he lays down, the exercitant will experience the mystical touch of God's grace, will exl~erience God, which, of course, is an entirely different experience from a public manifestation of the power of grace over one's physical faculties. Father Peeters reminds us that "for Ignatius action and contempla-tion are not and cannot be two alternating currents, two movements which succeed each other at more or less regular intervals" (p. 67). think that it is here that he touches on the real originality of St. Ignatius, who insisted on a fusion of action and contemplation. His follower was not to pass from contemplation to action, as from one state to another, from prayer, let us say, to preaching or teaching or counselling, and then back from preaching 'or teaching or counselling to prayer again. But he was to carry his contemplation with him. Ignatius did not want the instrument separated even for an instant from God; God and instru: ment were to remain perfectly united; and this union of man with God, achieved in and by grace, was supposed so to grow in man the instru-ment, by the perfect denial of his self-will, that there would be nothing in him at all to oppose the working of God's will. He himself had achieved this union, and it was this that led Father Nadal to call him "'in 13lena actione conteml~lativus,'" contemplative in the thick of action. Ignatius's mysticism was in Father de Guibert's happy phrase, a "mysti-cisin of service." It is largely this "mysticism of service" that he proposes in the Exercises, as a means, of course, of attaining to that perfect union with God. So far as it in him lies, the exercitant prepares himself by this 57 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS Review for Religiou$ service until God sees fit to bestow it. ~t cannot be seized by strength or by stealth. It is only God's to give, and He gives it to whom He pleases and when He pleases. But as Father Peeters amply shows, the author of the Exercises seems to take it for granted that eager and earnest effort will reap their reward; even more, ~.hat from the language of the £xercises understood in its fulness, it is St. Ignatius's conviction that it will happen throughout. Father Brozowski deserves our thanks for his thoughtful addition of an appendix containing those passages of the Exercises at length which help for a more complete understanding of the text. -~WILLIAM J. YOUNG, S.J. A RIGHT TO BE MERRY. By Sister Mary Francis, P.C. Pp. 212. Sheed and Ward, New York 3. 1956. $3.00. d Right to be ]l.lerry is a sprightly apologia for the contemplative vocation of the Poor Clares. In many ways it is a remarkable book, drawing an attractive and telling portrait of Poor Clare life within the compass of two hundred pages. Neatly woven into. the fabr;c of Sister Mary Francis's narrative are a history of the order, a commentary on its asceticism and rules, and a detailed account of the daily regimen in her own monastery at RoswelI, New Mexico. A Rigl~t to be i]'lerry is not autobiography; yet in places it is certainly autobiographical. It is not history nor a treatise on Christian asceticism; yet at times it is both historical and ascetical. Perhaps ie can best be classified as a series of integrally related essays on the Poor Clare vocation, intended pri- ¯ marily for the laity. Many are the books and pamphlets on religious life which profess to do all the things which .4 Ri#ltt to be 21"lerry actually does. These books describe with accuracy an order's foundation, comment upon the "holy rule," and print verbatim a copy of the daily order. The particu-lar merit of Sister Mary Francis's book is that ic treats these same topics with an ease, warmth and humor which win from the reader a new admiration for the life of the Poor Clares. d Ri~ltt to be 2]'Ierry, it is true, has no new theories to spin on the purpose and place of the re-ligious and contemplative vocation in the modern world; in some places its treatment of certain subjects is too conventional. Nonetheless, the book does present the orthodox and traditional dressed in a refreshing and feminine style. Sister Mary Francis's observations on the three vows of religion are an instance of the balanced and positive outlook which t~ermeates the 58 January, 1957 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS book. Another example is her appreciation of the relationship between the active and contemplative orders in the Church: ". active sisters and contemplative nuns form a single and marvelous entity, not two hostile camps." Difficulties and problems within the cloister are handled with efficient dispatch, but not with any attempt to minimize them out of existence. d Right to be Merry should be weicomed to the growing library of popular explanations of the religious life. Religious will find the book enjoyable, and certainly worth placing into the hands of a girl considering a religious, especially a contemplative, vocation. --JOHN W. O'MALLEY, S.J. BOOK ANNOLIblCI:M~NTS THE BRUCE PUBLISHING CO., 400 N. Broadway, Milwaukee I, Wis. Biblia Sacra. Edited by Gianfranco Nolli and A. Vacari, S.J. This is the latest official edition of the Latin Vulgate Bible. Its format makes it ideal as a convenient reference book. There are four small volumes (5~/2 inches by 3½ inches). Volume one contains the historical books; volume two the writers, the Psalms, and Canticles; volume three the prophetical books; volume four the New Testament in both Latin and Greek. The Psalms appear in both the Vulgate and the new authorized Latin version. Pp. 3800. $12.00 the set. CATHOLIC DISTRIBUTORS, 901 Monroe St., N.E., Washington 17, D.C. The Church and Israel. By J. Van de Ploeg, O.P. This is a very timely booklet giving the Church's stand on the Jewish nation and race. You will find here a frank discussion of the relations between Jews and Gentiles. Pp. 62. $0.90. Unusual 13aptismal Nantes. By Walter Gumbley, O.P. A boon for the busy pastor who must check the suitability of baptismal names. Pp. 54. Paper $1.00. THE CATHOLIC UNIVERSITY OF AMERICA PRESS, 620 Michi-gan Ave. N.E., Washington 17, D. C. The Morality of Hysterectomy O~erations. By Nicholas Lohkamp, O.F.M. The volume is a dissertation submitted to the faculty of the School of Sacred Theology of the Catholic University of America. It will be of interest to priests. Pp. 206. Paper $2.25. 59 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS Review fo~" Religious F. A. DAVIS COMPANY, PUBLISHERS, Philadelphia. Medical Ethics. By Charles J. McFadden, O.S.A. Those who are familiar with the earlier editions of this book will be pleased to learn that a fourth revised and enlarged edition is now available. It is a book for doctors and nurses and for those who teach the topics of special ethics which a~ply to them. Pp. 491. $4.25. ' FIDES PUBLISHERS ASSOCIATION, ~746 E. 79 St., Chicago 19, Ill. Conversation with Christ. ~ln Introduction to Mental Prayer. By Peter-Thomas Rohrbach, O.C.D. The author'writes with conviction and enthusiasm: conviction that anyone can learn the art Of mental prayer; enthusiasm for mental prayer as an indispensable,means of perfection. He addresses himself to the novice in the art of mental prayer. As a guide he has chosen the great Saint Theresa, as we should expect of a Carmelite. He has succeeded in giving a very simple and convincing exposition. Pp. 171 $3.75. This [4"ay to God. By John Rossi. Translated by J. A. Abbo and T. A. Opdenaker. The purpose of this little book "is not only to lead its readers to holiness of life, but to inspire them to apostolic activity so necessary today in the face of the activity of the forces of evil. In struc-ture it resembles the Imitation; every paragraph is short and weighted with meaning. Pp. 287. $2.75. Mental Health in Childhood. By Charles L. C. Burns. This book is a brief introduction to the contributions psychiatry has made to the education of children. Its author is Senior Psychiatrist to th~ Birming-ham Child Guidance Service in England. Pp. 86. $2.75. GRAIL PUBLICATIONS, St. Meinrad, Indiana. Valiant 14Zoman. Edited by Peg Boland. Foreword by Loretta Young. Here are fifteen sketches of dramatic incidents in the lives of' as many married women. The virtue most required to cope with the situations presented was courage, frequently of an all but heroic degree. The book affords inspiring reading particularly for girls and women. Pp. 195. $2.50. The Court of the Queen. By Sister Mary Julian Baird, R.S.M. Though all the saints were devoted to our Blessed Lady, some excelled in the proofs of their devotion, while others were specially favored by visits from their heavenly mother. In this volume we find brief biog- . raphies of ten such knights of the Queen. Pp. 73. $2.00. St. Frances Cabrini Color Book. Saint Francis of/lssisi Color Book. Text by Mary Fabyan Windeatt. Illustrations by Gedge Harmon. Pp. 33. Each 35c. 60 January, 1957 t~OOK ANNOUNCEMENTS THE NEWMAN PRESS, Westminster, Maryland. The Rule oi St. ,4ugustine. With Commentary of Blessed Alphonsu~ Orozco, O.S.A. Translated by Thomas A. Hand, O.S.A, A ten page prologue gives the principal biographical details of the life of Blessed Alphonsus Orozco. The Rule of St. Augustine odcupies only 16 pages and is, no doubt, the shortest rule of any order or congregation. The remaining 68 pages are commentary on the rule, Pp. 84. $2.75. Prayin# Our Prayers. By H. P. C. Lyons, S.J. The author applies the second method of prayer of St. Ignatius of Loyola in a way that will appeal to the modern mind to four great prayers: the Our Father, the Hail Mary, the Hail, Holy Queen, and the ,'lnima Christi. Pp. 72. Meditations on the Life o] Our Lord. By J. Nouet, S.J. This new edition is a condensation and re_vision of a well-known classic. ~.t now appears as a single volume in small but very legible type. Pp. 450. $4.75. The Education o[ the Novice. By Ambrose Farrell, O.P., Henry St. John, O.P., Dr. F. B. Elkisch. Each chapter contains a lecture given at Spode House in 1955 to about fifty mistresses of Novices. The topics considered are: The Meaning of Canon Law; Education of the Person; Education in the Life of Prayer; Education in the Faith; Psychology of the Novice. Pp. 73. $1.00. Jesus the Saviour, By Father James, O.F.M. Cap. Father James is professor of philosophy at University College, Cork. In this book he follbws in the footsteps of St. Thomas and draws on the truths of philos-ophy to get a better and deeper knowledge of the Saviour. His readers will finish his book with new insights into Him who is "the brightness of his (the Father's) glory and the figure of his substance." Pp. 145. $2.50. Doctrinal Instruction of 2~eligious Sisters. This is the sixth volume in the Religious Li[e Series. It is an Eng!ish translation of Formation Doc-trinale des Religieuses by a Religious of the Retreat of the Sacred Heart, and gives the addresses at the study-days organized by Pere Ple, O.P. Though the problem of the education of sisters is not quite the same in France as it is in the United States, still the differences are not so great but that we can profit by what is being don~ in France. Pp. 192. $3.50. Meeting the l/ocation Crisis. Edited by George L. Kane. A copy of this book should be found in every religious community and every rectory. It discusses the problem of vocation from many angles, and shows what others have done successfully to secure vocations. Are you doing all that you can to swell the ranks of the workers in the fields of God's harvest? A reading of this book will probably suggest many things that you could do and have not yet done. Pp. 204. $3.00. 61 ues ons Answers Juniorates, i.e., for the period of continued spiritual formation and completion of studies immediately after the noviceship, are being rapidly introduced in lay institutes. Are there any canonical norms for the selection of the teachers in juniorates? Canon law does not legislate on houses of study in lay religious institutes. Higher superiors, however, should be attentive to the follow-ing legislation on clerical houses of study as a directive norm of their actions. Only exemplary religious are to be assigned to a house of studies (c. 554, § 3); the spiritual prefect or master is to possess the qualities required in a master of novices (c. 588, § 2); and the profes-sors are to be outstanding not only in learning but also in virtue and prudence, and capable of edifying the students both by word and example (c. 1306, § 1). The spiritual qualities requisite in the professors have been constantly emphasized by the Roman Pontiffs, who have based their teaching on the following maxim expressed in the words of Leo XIII: "The exemplary conduct of the one who presides, particularly in the case of the young, is the most eloquen

Issue 1.2 of the Review for Religious, 1942. ; A. M. D. G. Review for Religious MARCH 15, 1942 S,~f. Joseph's Titles to Honor ¯ . .Aloysius C. Kemper The Scapular Devotion. : . William A. Donaghy Perfection and +he Religious . Augustine Kl~as LeoJ on the Incarnation . Cyril Vollert Profession of a Dying No,~ice . Adam C. Ellis The S+udy of +he Decalogue ¯ .- . Gerald Kelly Some Recommended Spiritual Books Book Reviews (~ues÷ions Answered Decisions of the Holy See VOLUME I "" "~-':. NUMBER 2 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ¯ VOLUME' I MARCH 15, 1942 NUMBER 2 CONTENTS SAINT JOSEPH'S TITLES TO RELIGIOUS HONOR Aloysius C. Kemper, S:J . 74 THE SCAPULAR DEVOTION AND THE SABBATINE PRIVILEGE William A. PERFECTION AND THE RELIGIOUS--Augustine Klaas, S.J. 9.4 ANNOUNCEMENT --'The Editors . ¯ . SOME RECOMMENDED SPIRITUAL BOOKS . 105 THE DOCTRINAL LETTER OF LEO I ON THE INCARNATION Cyril Vollert, S.J . 112 PROFESSION OF A NOVICE IN DANGER OF DEATH Adam C. Ellis, S.J . ¯ . 117 PAMPHLET REVIEWS . 122 RELIGIOUS AND. THE STUDY OF THE DECALOGUE Gerald Kelly, S,J . 123 BOOKS RECEIVED . ' 135 BOOK REVIEWS PROGRESS IN DIVINE UNION. By the Reverend Raoul Plus, S.J. 136 COLORED CATHOLICS IN THE UNITED STATES By the Reverend John T. Gillard. S.SIJ. 136 ONE INCH OF SPLENDOR. By Sister Rosalia of Maryknoll . 137- LITURGICAL WORSHIP. By the Reverend J. A. Jungmann, S.J. 138 MARYKNOLL MISSION LETTERS ~ . , . . 140 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS 7,. Communion on Holy Thursday . 1,41 8. Obligation of Sponsor in Baptism or Confirmation . 141 9. Separation of Novices and Postulants at Recreation . 142 10. Superior's Right to Read.Mail of Subjects . . . 142 DECISIONS OF THE HOLY SEE OF INTEREST TO RELIGIOUS 143 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, March, 1942. Vol. I. No. 2. Published bi-monthly: January, March, May, July, September, and November, at The College Pre~s, 606 Harrison Street, Tope~ka~ Kansas, by St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approbation. Application for second class entry pending. Editorial Board: Adam C. Ellis, S.J., G. Augustine Ellard, S.J., Gerald Kelly, S.J. Copyright, 1942, by Adam C. Ellis. Permission is hereby granted for quotations of reasonable length, provided due credit be given this review and the author. Subscription price: 2 dollars a year. Printed in U. S'. A. Saint: Joseph's Titles t:o Religious Honor Aloysius C. Kemper, S.J. THERE is no need at the present day to undertake a § vindication of the honor paid to St. 'joseph, foster-father of our Lord and most chaste spouse of Mary. Devotion to. him has taken so firm a hold on the popular mind, and his cult hag been so repeatedly and unstintingly approved by the Church, that St. ,Joseph stands next to Mary as the Saint °most highly esteemed and honored in the celestial hierar~chy. It is perhaps no vain hope to look for a marked increase in devotion to him and in a more insistent, confident appeal to his mighty intercession in the stress of the actual national and international crisis. St. ,Joseph ~was indeed from time immemorial regarded as eminently a social patron by various groups and religious families, in view of his headship of that singular holy group, the Family of Nazareth.- In 1621 the General Chapter of the Carmelites chose him officially as patron of the whole Reformed Order. Soon after began to appear for the first time the title of Patronage of St. 'jose~ph under which the holy Patriarch was'honored by numerous orders, religious bOdies, kingdoms and states both in the old and new world. It was not until 1847, however, that Plus IX extended the feast of the Patronage to the universal Church. From that papal grant the devotion received a new, vivifying impulse that resulted in a truly phenomenal growth. It was again Pius IX who, during a particularly calamitous period of his pontificate, bethought himself of a new title which had not until then been bestowed on any angel or saint. 'On the feast of the Immaculate Conception, in 1870, the " 74 ST. J,OSEPH'S~ TITLES TO HONOR Holy Father declared St. Joseph Patron of the Universal Church, the proximate motive for this elevatioff, being that "at this most sorrowful time the Church herself is beset by enemies on every side,, and oppressed by grievous cidamities, so that .wicked men imagine that at last the gates of hell are prevailing against her." The immediate occasion, then, for the new title was the urgent crisis of the Church at the moment. But in the same decree a more general motive for the papal action is al!eged: '"On account of this sublime dignity (of foster-father of Jesus) which God conferred on His most faithful servant, the Church has always most highly honored and lauded the most Blessed Joseph next after his Spouse, the Virgin Mother of God, and. has implored his intercession in all her great necessities." No one can fail to detect in this pontifical utterance a very sig-nificant placing of St. Joseph as one to be honored next to Mary. Nearly twenty years later, on August 15, 1889, Leo XIII issued a warmly enthusiastic encyclical letter1 -on devotion to St. Joseph. It is worthy of note that he ~hose another principal feast of Mary for this pronouncement. In it, in a more explicit manner, he placed Joseph after Mary . in the hierarchyof the Blessed, insisting "that the Christiafl people should grow accustomed to implore with an especial piety and confidence, together with the Virgin Mother of God, also her rnos~ chaste spouse, the Blessed Joseph." After recognizing that the cult of St. Joseph had advanced notably since the declaration of the Universal Patronage, Leo XIII wished to add his own authority in moving Chris-tian piety to new endeavors. He not only vindicated to St. Joseph his proper place in the devotion of the faithful next to the Virgin Mary, but for this he assigned two out- 1Quaraquarn pluries. Cf. The Ecclesiastical Review, Vol. 1, P. 362. 75 AI~OYSIUS C. KEMPI~R standing reasons, whicl~ he first briefly Stated, then feelingly expounded: "Jos.eph was the husband of Mary and the reputed father of Jesus Christ. From these two prerogatives derive all his dignity, grace, sanctity, and glory. Undoubtedly the dignity of the Mother of God is so sublime that nothing can excel it. Yet because between ,Joseph and the Blessed Virgin there existed the bond of matrimony, there can be no doubt that he approached more closely than any One else to that most lofty dignity by which the Mother of God sofar surpassed all other creatures . . . Again" he alone stands forth amongst all men by the singular dignity of having been divinely chosen to be the guardian of the Son of God, and considered by men to be His father." Here, then, is officially stated the basis of all solid devo-tion to St. Joseph, namely, his eminent dignity which sur-passes that of all the saints excepting only the Blessed Mother of the Redeemer. This dignity moreover is due to Joseph's position in the Holy Family of which he is the divinely appointed head and guardian, as husband of Mary and foster-father of Jesus. The marital and parental func-tions which he thus exercised in that l~lessed Family impli-cate him as closely as may be in the carrying into execution of the mystery of the Incarnation of the Son of God. "When the fulness of~ time came, God sent his Son, born of a woman, born under the Law, that he might redeem those who were under the Law, that we might receive the adop-tion of sons" (Galatians 4:4). In tha~ tremendous drama 3oseph had more than an accessory par~ to play. His coop-eration was essential. He was appointed to live and labor within the inner circle of the Incarnation, and his whole activity was displayed in the secret unfolding of this mystery. 76 ST. JOSEPH'S TITLES TO HONOR Joseph's actual presence and operation .within the circle of the Incarnation is vouched for by the simple gospel nar-rative familiar to every child. Je,sus, Mary, andJoseph are there always found together, the latter as husband of Mary and father of Jesus. In the genealogy according to St. Mat- . thew (1: 16) we read, "And Jacob begot Joseph the hus-band of Mary." Again (1:18) "When Mary his Mother was betrothed to Joseph"; ( 1 : 19) "But Joseph her husband being a just man. "; (1:20) "Do not be afraid' Joseph ¯. to take to thee Mary thy u2ife"; (1:24) "So Joseph. to0k.unto him his u2ife.'" The relation of husband and wife between Mary and Joseph is thus plainly asserted in St. Matthew. Both Matthew and Luke frequently place the three holy persons inimmediate j.uxta-position. Thus, (Matthew 2:13) "An angel of the Lord appeared in a dream to Joseph, saying, 'Arise, and take the child and his mother, and flee into.Egypt'." Four times in the brief nar-rative of the flight into Egypt are the three names thus brought together. St.Luke (2-:16) tells us of the shep-herds that "they found Mary and Joseph and the babe lying in the manger." This Evangelist is particularly intent on calling attention to a true parental relationship that bound .Joseph .to the divine Child. Thus (2:27) "And when his parents brought in the child Jesus" (at the Purification); (2:33) "And his father and mother were marvelling at the things spoken concerning him"; (2:41) "His parents were wont to go every year to J.erusalem"; (2:48) "Behold thy father and I have been seeking thee. sorrowing." These latter words, spoken under stress of strong emotion, quite unconsciously reproduce the manner of address current in the holy house at Nazareth. The character of the mutual relations within the Holy Family is thus clearly established in the gospel; Joseph is the bus- 77 ALOY$1US C. KEMPER band of Mary and in a true sense the father of Jesus. The point that should be emphasized on reading this narrative is, that Joseph is not an extrinsic companion to a closely united pair, nor a mere accessory, interested specta-tor, or helper, but is an integral and essential member of this sacred trio. This is a truth that seems often not to have been fully recognized even by those bent on showing Joseph ~his due honor. In the popular mind particularly,due per-haps inpart to catechetical instruction that was calculated to.be both safe and adequate, St. Joseph is the victim of a minimizing p~ocess that deprives him of his full dignity. Frequently the negative statement is stressed that as man 3esus had no father, and that consequently all genuine paternity should be denied his appointed guardian; or that Joseph was merely reputed to be the father by men who mistakenly looked upon Jesus as the carpenter's Son, Jesus not being his Son at all. Similarly it is often thought that ~Joseph was not the real husband of Mary, but only a faith, ful protector, serving as a safeguard to Mary's undoubted ¯ genuine motherhood in. the public eye, a consort-in name but not in reality. Besides, Mary's ~rirginity, sealed by vow, might seem to preclude the possibility of a true mar- ¯ .riage contract that would mak~ the two strictly man and wife. As a result of this endeavor to shield the exclusive divine sonship of the Child, and the virginal conception of the Mother, Joseph's full dignity is sacrificed; and he is denied the glory of the very position whence "derives all his dignity, grace, sanctity and glory," as we heard Leo XIII claim. Joseph is thus reduced almost to the status of an honorary member of the Holy Family and counts for little in the scheme of the Incarnation, Indeed, what appear to us unworthy travesties of the true glory of St. Joseph were 78 ST. JOSEPH'S TITLES TO HONOR seriously maintained and defended by more than one Cath-olic author even during the pontificate Of Leo XIII. How false such a rating of the position of the great Patrihrch would be becomes at once evident if we briefly examine the reasons that underlie the succinct gospel state-ments above enumerated. First of all, the Blessed Virgin contracted a true and proper marriage with Joseph, and this is a truth of faith according to all theologians. There was, therefore, no true sense in which it might .have been said of Mary that she was the reputed wife of Joseph. In the case of both, virginity and marriage were most perfectly con-joined, so that, as LeoXIII strongly urges, bothoare at the same time perfect exemplars of virgins and spouses. The teaching of the Church, confirmed by the Council of Trent, supposes that a true and perfect marriage bond subsists, even ihough the parties do not consummate their union. Such a marriage bond, with all its consequent .rights and duties, existed between the virgin Joseph and the Virgin Mary. They were mutually possessors and guardians of each other's spotless virginity. In the second place, it must ever be borne in mind that Joseph was the father of Jesus in a very real sense. The express statement of the gospel to this effect is not-to ~be qualified by reducing this relationship to a paternity that was only apparent. It was indeed a paternity entirely unique in kind, but most true in every, sense except the one which would make Jesus the Son of Joseph by natural gen-eration. This latter relation Scripture itself is careful to exclude; and it is with reference to this wholly natural paternity that Joseph is asserted to have been merely the reputed father of the Child. Jesus was not the carpenter's Son in the only way the people probably suspected. But He was the virginal, fruit of Mary's womb which could 79 ALOYSIUS C. KEMPER never becomingly and above suspicion have been brought into the world except within the chaste union and intimacy of two virginal spouses. It was entirely necessary for the blessed consort to shield in public esteem the fruitful vir-ginity of his true spouse: and even in this restiicted sense his paternity was no empty name. In what other sense it was real and w~olly admirable will be presently shown. Another consideration to be carefully weighed is this. In the divine plan the whole mystery of God becoming man was to remain profoundly hidden until such time as the reality of this divine prodigy of love could profitably be made public. 3esus Himseff only very gradually and with consummate prudence revealed His divine filiation during His public ministry; and its full import, inclusive of the virgin birth, was scarcely even surmised during Christ's earthly lifetime except by a favored few. Before it became finally known, 3oseph had already departed~this life, when his office of duly obscuring and shielding both the divine Son and the Virgin Mother bad been brought to a close. But this function of obscuring for a time both the Son and the Mother, necessary though it was for the proper execution of the divine decree, was neither the only one nor the most important one to give reality and splendor to the paternity of 3oseph. Suarez2 tersely says: "The Blessed 3oseph not only bore the name of father, but also the sub- Stance and reality which belongs to this name, in as far as it can be participated by any man, carnal_ generation alone excepted. He possessed accordingly a father's affection, solicitude, and even authority." He was fully and admi-rably a father to 3esus in providing Him a true home with all its unspeakable, charming intimacy, with early educa-tion, protection against danger, sustenance earned in the ZDe M~Isteriis Vitae Cbristif'Q. 29, Disp. 8, Sect. 1, n. 4. 80 ST. JOSI~PH'S TITLES TO HONOR sweat of his brow, and all of these exercised in a most per-fect and holy way, towards a Son truly his, as no father either before or after him, In addition to this intimacy Leo XIII, in the encyclical already referred to, thus expresses the reality of Joseph's fatherly office: "Accordingly, from this double dignity (as husband of Mary and father of Jesus) there followed spon-taneously the duties which nature prescribes for fathers of families, so that Joseph was the legitimate and natural guardian, curator, and defender of the divine house over which' he presided. These offices and duties he zealously exercised until the end of his lifel He strove to protect his spouse and the divine Child with supreme love and daily assiduity. He provided by his labor whatever was neces-sary in diet and maintenance for both. He was ever the unfailing companion, helper and consoler of the Virgin and Jesus." These are titles to a singularly sublime father-hood that is ill served by heaping about it the familiai denaturing negatives: "as man, Jesus had no earthly father; Joseph was only/ the foster-father, the reputed father of Jesus, not His real father in any sense." Such, then, are the titles on which isbased the dignity of St. Joseph: he is the true husband of Mary, a real father of Jesus, and an intimate, necessary cooperator in the strategic~ us.hdring into the world of the Incarnate Word. We haye. already heard two popes conclude frbm this unique and exalted position of Joseph that in dignity he excelled all the saints except bnly Mary Immaculate. It is true the Imitation (Book III, 58, n. 2) cautions us not to compa.re the saints one with another or to dispute their relative graces and merits. But for the Virgin and St. Joseph the comparative method alone does justice to the father and mother of Jesus, and most of the Fathers and ecclesiastical ALOYSIUS C. KEMPER writers have resorted to it in their case. Mary's incompa-rable excellence amongst the saints as the Mother of God entitles.her to a special worship reserved exclusively to her which, theologians style h~/perdatia. Since St. 2oseph is now by common consent ranked next to her as belonging to the hypostatic order, as we have seen, attempts hace been made to secure for him also a singular worship to be styled protoclalia, that is, the highest honor paid to any saint after Mary. The Church has not yet yielded to these entreaties, as she has also thus far refused to admit his name into the Cor~iiteor and the Canon of the Mass. On the other hand she has not shown herself averse to the claim now every-where urged that ~loseph is after Mary the greatest of the saints. Rival claims might be made in the case of St. ,lohn the Baptist and the Apostles, and these claims have been care-fully weighed by theologians. Of the Baptist our Lord Himself declared, "Amen I say to you, among those born of women there has ndt risen a greater than ,lohn the Bap-tist" (Matthew 11: 11). Yet our Lord could not have meant tl~is in an absolute sense, for He immediately adds, "Yet the least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he." Relatively to all the patriarchs and prophets of the Old Law the Precursor of the Lamb of God must be placed at the head of them all. It is revealed that he was cleansed from original sin before his birth, but even this extraordinary privilege leaves him still outside the exalted circle of the Holy Family and the immediate actors in the execution of the Incarnation. The question of the superiority of the Apostles in dig-nity over all the other saints except the Mother of God has been reverently asked through the centuries, and conflicting answers have been given. St. Anselm amongst others 82 ST. JOSEPH'S TITLES TO HONOR declares: "Even the Baptist was inferior to'the Apostles in dignity for there is no ministry greater than the aposto-late." St. Thomas seems to favor this view. Suarez~ how-ever; ventures it as a probable opinion that the ministry of St. 3osepb was of a higher order than that of the Apostles for the reason that the latter pertained to the simple order of grace, while Joseph was immediately associated with the Author of grace within the order of the hypostatic union. Hence this theologian modestly concludes, "it is not temer-arious or improbable, but on the contrary a pious and very likely opinion thatSt. 3oseph excelled all other saints in grace and beatitude." The view of St. Thomas he explains by remarking that the Angelic Doctor regarded the aposto-late as the highest ministry in the New Testament; whereas the office of the foster-father of Jesusbelonged properly neither to the 01d nor to the New Testament, but to the Author of both who as the "cornerstone joined them into one." This probable and still too conservative opinion of Suarez, however, has long ago yielded to the unquestioned belief voiced by Leo XIII when he unhesitatingly declares: "There can be no doubt that he (Joseph) approached more closely than any one else .to that most lofty dignity by which the Mother of God so far excelled all other creatures. " We have thus considered the sublime dignity attaching to the double office of Joseph as father of JeSus and spouse of Mary. From this dignity may at once be deduced the eminent gifts of grace with which he was endowed and the incomparable sanctity he attained. It is a theological axiom that God duly apportions grace according to the state and office to Which He calls a soul. Joseph's correspondence with this grace was so perfect that Scripture is content to style him, even before his union with Mary, simply "a just BLoc. tit. sect. 1, n. 10; sect. 2, n. 6. ALOYSIUS C. KEMPER man." How he must have advanced to unspeakable per-fection of sanctity through all the years of daily contem-plation and intimate association with the holy and Immacu-late Virgin, his spouse, and the Holy of Holies, the Incar-nate Son of God! Truly, the life of heaven on earth! A second corollary is deduced by Leo XIII from Joseph's position in the Holy Family. "The divine house," says the.Pontiff, "which Joseph ruled by. fatherly author-ity contained the beginnings of the nascent Church." As a consequence "the blessed Patriarch considers the innu-merable multitudes of Christians that compose the family of the universal Church as entrusted to him in a .special way, and that in it, as the husband of Mary and the father of Jesus, he enjoys practically paternal authority." The dig-nity, sanctity, and power of Joseph, these three are on a par in the mind of the Holy Father; hence his whole ericyclical is a ringing exhortation to all the faithful and to the uni-versal Church to "go to Joseph," to honor him as his exalted dignity demands, to emulate the virtues of his sanc-tity which are resplendent for all classes in the Church, and to have recourse with unfailing confidence to his very real 'fatherly authority by which he is still "lord over his house-hold and ruler of all his possessions." The exhortation of Leo XIII is as timely today as when first uttered; nay if possible, it has grown in timeliness and urgency. Today more than ever, under stress of the most colossal menace that has ever threatened Church, .state, and civilization itself, we shall not fhil to remember one cer-tain haven of refuge, and to make it a precious habit of our spiritual life' in all our needs, to "go to Joseph," after Mary, the greatest of saints. 84 The Scapular Devo!:ion and !:he Sabba!:ine Privilege William A. Donaghy, S.3. ALTHOUGH thousands of Catholic~ loyally wear the little cloth yoke which is the symbol of their ~levo. tion to our Lad~, many of them are unaware of the Spiritual wealth with which the Church has endowed the Scapular. Most Catholics~ moreover; are ignorant of the wide variety of scapulars; and there are many minor points and problems connected with the devotion that even reli-gious might profitably consider. It is the purpose of this article to present a brief sketch of the devotion's historical background, to give some of the theology connected with it, and to indicate moral and pastoral aspects of it. The traditional account of the rise and growth of the Scapular devotion brings us back tO the thirteenth cen-tury. In those ancient days, the English Crusaders brought back to England from Palestine a little group of .hermits who had been living the religious life on Mount Carmel, the rugged backdrop against which Elias the prophet had confounded the priests of Baal, as the Third Book of Kings recounts. In England, these brethern were joined by a fiery hermit named Stock--so called, because he had been living peni-tentially in the trunk, or stock, of a tree. Much like the Baptist was this shaggy zealot, in his rough clothing, his gauntness, and his white-hot devotion to God. When he attached himself to the Carmelites, he took tl~e significant name of Simon, a name wealthy in memories and prophetic of leadership. The tiny band prospered so well in England that soon WILLIAM A. DONAGHY their numbers demanded some sort of local supervision and jurisdiction. Simon Stock was named Vicar-General and, in the year 1245, he was designated General of the whole. ¯ order. ~ All along, the ideal of these holy men had been one of strict seclusion, prayer, and penance. But at that time, even as in our own, students were thronging to the universi-ties; and the need of a highly educated clergy to guide this intellectual generation became increasingly apparent. Simon decided to train his younger members to meet this demand: buk some of the elders regarded his decision as a desertion of the cloister and a dangerous innovation against which they "firmly set their faces. Meanwhile, outside the cloister walls, jealous eyes had been observing the rise and growing influ-ence of the Friars, and now these enemies raised an outcry for the suppression of this "upstart" order. Sagging beneath his ninety years and the burdens of office, besieged from Without and suspected within his own household, Simon Stock withdrew, in 125f, to the mon-astery at Cambridge, where he begged a sign of solace from the Queen of Heaven. Apparelled in light and attended by angels our Lady appeared to him holding in her hand the- B~own"Scapular: "Receive, my beloved son," she said, "this habit of thy order; this shall be to thee and to all Carmel-ites a privilege, that whosoever dies clothed in this shall never suffer eternal fire." Almost a century later, Mary appeared again, this time to the man who was short!y to become Pope 3ohn XXII. To the future Pontiff, she gave new evidence of her gener-osity and extended and enlarged the Scapular Promise by an addition which has come to be known as the Sabbatine or Saturday Privilege." Afterhis elevation to Peter's chair, 3ohn published this private revelation in a Papal Bull. Our 86 THE SCAPULAR DEVOTION Lady had assured him that she would release from Purga-tory any members of her order on the Saturday following their deaths. Let us now examine these promises more in detail to see what they mean and imply: The Scapular promise, in the first place, comprises.two elements: 1) "Whoever dies clothed in this habit"; 2) "shall not suffer the fires of Hell." Now, only the members of the Carmelite Confraternity are entitled to wear the "habit," that is, the Brown Scapu~ lar. Hence the words of our Lady, "clothed in this habit," involve membership in that confraternity. One must, therefore, voluntarily enlist in Mary's great brotherhood before a priest authorized either by the Holy See or by the Carmelite General, to receive members. The officiating priest, moreover, unless he has a special privilege to the contrary, must enter the name of any new confrfire in a reg-ister of the Confraternity. Now formally admitted, the candidate is allowed to wear the Scapular; he is now "clothed in this habit." Obviously the large habit of Carmel fulfills this condi-tion; as does its small imitation, the Brown Scapular. And by grant of Plus X, in 1910, the scapular medal may now take the place of any cloth scapular in which one has been validly ~nrolled1. The subsequent words of the Scapular promise guaran-. tee that any wearer of the "habit" will escape the fires of hell. We must not, however, interpret this falsely. A man who dies in mortal sin, no matter what his garb, cannot be saved; that is eternal truth. What, then, does the assurance 1In allowing the substitution of the medal for the various scapulars, Pins X stated that those wearing the medal could gain all indulgences and participate in all spiritual favors attached to the scapulars. Nevertheless, some consider it safer to use the Brown Scapular itself when trying to bring about the death-bed conversion of impeni-tent sinners. Cf, The Ecclesiastical Reoiew, 3ul~r, 1941, p. 43. reED. 87 WILLIAM A. DONAGHY . mean? To determine the meaning, it will help to recall the general nature of the various scapular confraternities. As we shall see later, there are many scapulars and many ¯ scapular confraternities. Through the years, the Popes have decreed the patronage, ,guidance, and control of these pious org:inizations to different religiqus orders and con-gregations of the Church., When, therefore, a man joins a confraternity, he aggregates himself in some degree to the religious body which has special control of that confra-ternity; and he thereby participates in the end and purpose of that order or congregation. All these great religious :communities have this in common, that it is their aim and intent to strive towards perfection in the spirit and accord-ing to the path of the three evangelical counsels of poverty, chastity, and. obedience. In their .degree, the scapular con,- fraternities share the aim and object of the parent order or congregation; .hence the confreres, to a limited extent, pledge fidelity, to the same high evangelical ideal. Merely to wear the scapular without baying this spirit in the soul would not only not be virtuous; it would be perilously close to, the,dry and sterile Pharisaism which our Lord so mercilessly, .ondemned. The scapular, .too, is a link which binds the wearer to the members of the first and second orders and to his fellow .members in the confraternity, thus enabling him to share on earth some of .the special fruits of the communion of saints. How absi~rd'and dangerous it would be, then, to imag-ine that th~ scapular is a magical amulet, charm, or fool-proofs. passport to heaven! Against the Semi-Pelagians who exalted man's natural powers and self-sufficiency the Coun-cil of Orange hurled a definition which re-echoed in Trent. For the Church teaches that even for the just man, the actual grace of perseverance requires a special help from 88 THE SCAPULAR DEVOTION God. It is in the light of this dogma, in fact, that some great theologians seem to understand the Scapular p.romise; for they interpret it to mean that anyone dying in our Lady's . confraternity and wearing her scapular will receive through her at the hour of death either t.he grace of perseverance or the grace of final contrition. The lessons for the office of St. Simon Stock quote the promise. But before he sanc-tioned- the office, Pope Leo XIII inserted the adverb "piously" ("pie"), to make the promise read: "Whoever dies piously wearing this habit will not suffer the flames of hell." Turning now to the Sabbatine or Saturday Privilege, .we find that the Bull of John XXII proclaiming the privi-lege declares that our Lady wanted John "to. make known to all that on the Saturday following their death she would deliver from Purgatory all who wore the Carmelite Scapu-lar." In a Bull of approbation, Paul V confirms the prom-ise but confines its application to those "who in life wore our Lady's habit, were chaste according to their state, recited the Little Office, and abstained on Wednesdays and Satur-days except when Christmas fell on one of those days. These: clients will Mary help by her intercession and her special protection after their death, especially on Saturday, the day which the Church has especially dedicated to. her." It is worthy of note that a priest who has the faculty of receiving candidates into the Scapulhr Confraternity. has also the power to commute the conditions necessary for the Sabbatine Privilege and to substitute other devotional practices. As Pope Paul. lays them down, the requirements whereby one renders oneself eligible for the Sabbatine privilege are too clear to need further explanation. Once again the shining sanity and unshakable love of truth WILLIAM A. DONAGHY which characterize the Church have removed any danger of pre.sumption or superstition. Thus far we have given the traditionally accepted accounts 6f these two private revelations to St. Simon Stock and Pope 3ohn XXII and have made the obvious commentary on them. However, it is only fair to admit that these revelations have been attacked not only by non- Catholics but by sincere Catholic scholars as well.- For-tunately, ¯ we do not have to examine the evidence of the conflicting parties and decide the matter for ourselves. .We can raise the whole controversy to the higher plane of dogmatic values. Several Pontiffs have blessed and approved the scapular promise and the Sabbatine privi-lege; under the watchful eye of the Church, thesedevotions have been preached for centuries; and such confirmation of their validity is sufficient proof for the Catholic mind which realizes that the living, teaching Church rests not on the cornerstone of a library but on the Rock that is°Peter. It is true, .of course, that the great public revelation which Christ committed to His Apostles closed with the death of the last Apostle. It is this. fixed and unchanging body of truth which the Church guards. When from time totime She defines a dogma; she affirms that the truth in question,, actually and really is part of ,that' Apostolic deposit of faith. Other private revelations which have come to individuals down through the ages/neither augment nor complement the Apostolic revelation. Strictly speaking, therefore, one is not bound ,to beli~v,e in them; nor, do they. as such, pertain to the authority of the Church. But it is the office of the Church authentically to interpret and authoritatively to decide whether or not the content of such revelations agrees with the eternal truth of which she is divinely instituted custodian. She could not condone any 90 THE SCAPULAR DEVOTION offense against either faith or morals. In his great work on the Sacred Heart devotion, which was privately revealed to St. Margaret Mary, Father Bain-vel points out that the Church's approbation signifies that there is nothing in the devotion contrary to faith or morals. Moreover, Margaret Mary's holiness, on which the Church has set the crown of canonization, is ampl~ testimony of her right to,be believed. The apparition to her is, as Father Pesch notes, only the occasion of public worship of the Sacred Heart; the real reason for the worship is the author-ity of the teaching Church accepting the devotion and incorporating it into her liturgy. So, too, with the Scapular devotion. No matter what one may think of its historical foundations, it rests on the bed-rock of divine authority. Perhaps there is no bette~r proof of the Church's attitude towards the Scapular than the indulgences, almost "innumerable" as St. Alphonsus exclaims, which she has heaped on it. Best known and most widespread of all scapulars is the Carmelite Brown Scapular, to which the foregoing remarks apply. But there are many other scapulars. One fre-quently hears references to the "five scapulars"; and it might be interesting to mention and describe them sketchily. The white scapular of the Most Bleised Trinity, marked by a blue and red cross, is the badge of the confraternity associ-ated with the ~Trinitarians. Then there is the red scapular of the Passion, control and direction of which Pius IX com-mitted to the Lazarists; the blue scapular of the Immaculate Conception, under the Theatine Fathers; the black scapular .of the Seven Dolors represents the confraternity which the Servite Fathers direct. These, with the Carmelite scapular, are the "five scapulars." As we have mentioned, a priest receives the faculty to 91 WILLIAM A. DONAGHY admit members into these various confraternities either from the Holy See or from the General Superior ofthe reli-gious family in charge of the confraternity. The receiving priest must-bless the scapular and invest the candidate with it, although it is sufficient investitureif the priest simply lays the scapular across the shoulder of the recipient. During a mission, or when there is a great crowd of candidates to be admitted, some priests have the power of enrolling people in the scapular without personally placing it on the person who is to wear it. For the blessing of a scapular, the simple .sign of the cross is not sufficient; the priest must use the prescribed formula, which is necessary for validity, though he may always use the shortest of the three blessings given in the Roman Ritual. Furthermore, any priest who has the faculty to bless scapulars and the resultant power to enroll candidates in the corresponding confraternities, has also the power to enroll himself. What of the scapulars themselves? They must not be round or oval but must be square or oblong; they must be made Qf wool, and, although it is permitted to ornament them with needlework.or painting,, the color proper to each must prevail. These conditions all affect validity. In the Ecclesiastical. Review for August, 19411 Mr. John Haffert pointed out that approximately half a million worthless Scapulars are bought annually in the United States. Unscrupulous dealers make them of felt, which is cheaper ¯ than wool. The cords binding the oblongs of the scapular may be of any material or color, except for the scapular of the Pas-sion which requires red woolen strings. The scapulars must be. worn constantly, but if one has laid them aside for a perio~t, he may resume wearing them and thus revive his title to the privileges and indulgences attached to them. 92 THE SCAPUL,~R DEVOTION Only the first scapular needs to be blessed; after that, one simply get a new pair and puts them on. The scapular medal is a substitute for the cloth scapu-lar, granted by Plus X, in 1910. Missionaries request~ed the concession, because the wearing of the cloth scapular was a great inconvenience for their native converts. The l~ontiff did not wish to have the medal supplant the cloth scapular, however: and his successor Plus XI permitted a protected scapular, enclosed in ~loth, to overcome objec-tions of a sanitary sort. Other great theologians look with regret on the passing of the cloth scapular and the popu-larity of the medal; but the medal has official approval and styles have changed so radically since 1910 that many more now have reason to substitute the medal for the cloth scapu-lar. ~!~rho may bles~ the scapular medal? Any priest having the power to bless that scapular which the medal is to replace; and a simple sign of the cross is sufficient to endow the medal with precisely the same indulgences which the cloth- scapular would enjoy.° In fact, the priest may bless many scapular medals, even if he cannot see them--as would be the case in a crowded church. But if a medal is to represent several different scapulars, the Sign of the cross should be repeated for each of those different scapulars. These are only a few aspec[s of, the scapular, the humble heraldic symbol of devotion to the Queen of Heaveri. There are many others and one might write a long work on the subject. But the whole matter is .admirably summed up for us, as far as its practical side goes, in the words of St. J~lphonsus de Liguori, the Church's great Doctor of Morals. He epitomizes his own attitude towards this devo-tion briefly and significantly: "For my own part," he writes, "I havebeen careful.to receive all these scapulars." Pert:ec!:ion and !:he Religious Augustine Klaas, S.J. " I. Introduction //r~EI~FECTION is for priests and religious. I am only a layman. I am fortunate to keep my soul in sanc-tifying grace. Perfection is not for me." --- Religious have often enough heard similar views expressed by good, exemplary layfolk, who seem to imply that they would lead the perfect life if only it were "for them." Is the life of perfection "'for them" ? Most certainly it is. Priests and religious have no monopoly on perfection. The invitation to it comes to the laity from the lips of Our Lord, Who, after He had explained the principles of perfection in the Sermon on the Mount, said to the multitude: "You there-fore are to be perfect, even as your heavenly Father is per.- .fect" (Matthew 5:48). St. Peter echoes these words in a letter to the Christian communities of Asia Minor: "As the One who called you is holy, be you also holy in all your behavior" (I Peter 1 : 15). And St. Paul: "This is the will ofGod,your sanctification". (I Thessalonians 4:3). Later St. Paul clarifies this. idea when he transmits to the Colos-sians the greetings of Epaphras, "who is ever solicitous for you in his prayers, that you may remain perfect and com-pl'etely in accord with all the will of God" (Colossians 4:12). That this is not an easy task was declared by Christ Himielf when He said to all: "If anyone wishes to come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and follow Me" (Luke 9:23). Though not always cor-rectly understood, even by religious, this doctrine of uni-versal perfection has been the constant teaching of the Cath- 94 PERFECTION AND THE RELIGIOUS olic Church. It is forcefully reiterated by Pius XI in his encyclical on St. Francis de Sales ($anuary 26, 1923) ;. "We cannot accept the belief that this command of' Christ (Matthew 5:48 above, previously cited by the Holy Father) concerns only a select and privileged group of souls and that all others may consider themselves pleasing to Him if they have attained to a lower degree of holiness. Quite. the contrary is true, as appears from the very generality of His words. The law of holiness embraces all men and admits of no exception. What is more, it appears that Francis de Sales was given to the Church by God for a very special mission. His task was to give the lie to the prejudice which in his lifetime was deeply rooted and has not been destroyed even today, that the ideal of genuine sanctity held UP for our imitation by the Church is impossible of attain-ment or, at best, is so difficult that it surpasses the capabili-ties of the great majority of the faithful and is, therefore, to be thought of as the exclusive possession of a few great souls. St. Francis likewise disproved the false idea that holiness was so hedged around by annoyances and hard-ships that it is inadaptable to a life lived outside cloister walls." Again, in the Encyclical on Marriage (December 31, 1930) : "For all men, of every condition and in whatever honorable walk of life they may be, can and ought to imi-tate that most perfect example of holiness, placed before man by God, namely, Christ our Lord, and by God's grace to arrive at the summit of perfection:" Hence, we see that men, women, and children, of every age, condition of society, and state of life not only can but should ascend the mountain of perfection even to its lofty summits. And they have done so. Some, like King Louis of 95 AUGUSTINE KLAAS France or Henry Of Germany, Queen Elizabeth of Hun-gary, Chancellor Thomas More of England or the lowly Benedict Labre of France, have been declared officially to have reached a heroic degree of perfection. Many more, like Matt Talbot, the lumberyard worker; Jerome Jaegen, the banker; Anna-Maria Taigi, the housewife; Frederick Ozanam, the professor; and Guy de Fontgalland, the pupil, have not yet been canonized. Tens of thousands more have their lives of heroic perfection writtdn only in the Book of' Life!. If the laity have a.strong invitation to strive for perfec-tion, the clergyhave a~command to seek that perfection implied in their high vocation. The Canon Law of the Church declares that "clerics must lead an interior and exterior life holiertha'n that of the laity and give thes~ the good example of virtu'e and good works." The .Bishop must see to it "that allclerics receive.~frequently the Sacra-ment of Pen;ince to be purified of their faults; that each day they apply themselves duriffg a certain length of time to the exercise of mental prayer, visit the Most Blessed Sacrament, recite the beads in honor of the Blessed M6ther of God, and make their examination of conscience . . . " (Cf. Canons 124-127). These-are essential spiritual practices leading directly to that high spiritual perfection demanded of the priesthood by.Christ and His Church., No one~ can read the ',Exhortation to the Catholic Clergy" of Pius X or.the Encyclical of Plus XI on the Priesthoodwithout being con-vinced of the necessity of perfection for the clergy. Their sublime calling to be "other Christs," their daily ministry 1Canon Arendzen raises an interesting question in The Clergg Review for October, 1941, p. 248. He wants to know whether the Church has ever canonized a married saint, apar~ from martyrdom? By married person he means one who ,actually lived in conjugal life till death, not widowers or widows, or persons who, though m~rried. lived as brother and Sister, at least for many years. If the answer is negative, it Would seem to indicate that abstinence from conjugal life is a prerequisite of heroic sanctity, or at least of canonization. What do our readers think about it? 96 PERFECTION AND THE RELIGIOUS of offering the Holy Sacrifice and of dispensing the Sacra-ments to the faithful requires much more than ordinary holiness of life. indeed, St. Thomas says that to serve Christ - in the Sacrament of the Altar "a greater interior sanctity is required than even the religious state demands." Then, too, effectiveness in apostolic work is altogether bound up with spiritual perfection. The Cur~ of Ars brought an averag~ of three hundred penitents a day to his confessional, not so much by eloquence of sermon or exactitude of litur-gical function as by his eminent personal holiness. So important is perfection for the clergy that theologians speak of a "state of perfection" for him who has the plentitude of the priesthood, the Bishop: his consecration presupposes in him a high degree of perfection already attained. Religious also are said tO be in the "state of perfection," that is, the state of perfection to be acquired. Religious are not necessarily perfect when they enter into the religious life, but they have the obligation to strive for perfection; they must put forth an honest effort to attain to it. The Canon Law of the Church defines the religious state as "the firmly established manner of living in community, by which the faithful undertake to observe not only the ordinary pre-cepts but also the ~vangelical counsels, by means of the vows of obedience, chastity, and poverty" (Canon 487), ~and declares that "each and every religious, superior as well as subject, is bound to tend toward the perfection of his state" (Canon 593). Hence, perfection is the specialty of reli-gious, the object and goal of their whole lives. They must strive earnestly for it, according to their particular institute and rule. Indeed, to refuse outright to do so, cannot-be excused from sin. The nature and limits of this obligation upon religious to strive for perfection will be discussed in a later section of thi~ article. This, at least, is true: there is AUGUSTINE KLAAS no state of life in which perfection is easier of attainment,. since in the religious life so many obstacles t6 it are removed and so many efficacious means to achieve it ~are provided. Hence, .it is not at all surprising to note the preponderance of religious who have been raised to the honors Of the altar. Statistics show that of the one hundred and forty-six saints canonized between 1600 and 1926, one hundred and ten were religious~. In a world-wide radio broadcast on Febru-ary 12, 1931, Pope Pius XI addressed to the religious of the Whole world these encouragin~ words on the excellence Of the religious life: "Sfriving after thebetter gifts and observing not only ' the precepts but also the wishes and counsels of the Divine King and Spouse by the faithful observance of your holy vows and by the religious discipli.ne of your entire lives, you render the Church of God fragrant with the odor Of vir-ginity, you enlighten her by your contemplations, you support her by your prayers, you enrich her by your knowl-edge and teaching, you daily perfect and strengthen her by your ministry of the word and by the works of your apos: tolate. Therefore, as you are partakers of a truly heavenly and angelical vocation, the more precious the treasure you carry, the,more careful watch you must keep, so that you do Got only make. your vocation and election certain, but also .that in you, as in most faithful and devoted servants, the Heart of .the King and Spouse may find some consolation and reparation for the infinite offenses and negligences with which men requite His ineffable love." II. Perfection, In General Perfection, then, is for the layman, the cleric, anti in a peiuliar way for the religious. Whatever may be the pre- 2Incidentall~r. the first nun to be solemnl~r canonized b~i the Church was Saint Clare of Assisi. She died in 1253 and was canonized in 1255. Her feast is celebrated on August 12. PERFECTION AND THE RELIGIOUS cise nature of the obligation and invitation to perfection, it is certain that perfection is possible for all. and strongly urged upon every one without exception. Does this mean that perfection is manifold? Is there one kind of perfection for the layman, another for the priest, and still another for the religious? By no m~ans. Perfection is one. Essentially, perfection is the sameforall. It is the same as to object and general means. What differences occur, are only incidental, a matter of different specific means employed, a matter of different circumstances, environment, and opportunity. Nor do religious orders and dongregations differ essentially as to the perfection for which they strive, each in its own particular way. Basically, the perfection of Francis of Assisi, Benedict, Dominic, or Ignatius Loyola does not differ from that of Theresa of Avila, 2oan of Arc, Sophie Barat, .Pius the Fifth, Charles Borromeo, John Vianney, Thomas More, or Francis de Sales. There are many lanes and many types of ~ars On the lanes and various travellers in the cars, but there is only one broad highway of perfed-tion leading to God. What is the nature of this common essential perfec-tionmperfection in the strict sense--sought after by lay-man, priest, and religious alike? A simple illustration or two will help to clarify our ideas. A watch is perfect when~ it fulfills the purpose for whic~ it was made, namely,, to tell the correct time. This it will unfa!lingly do if all its parts are in place and if it functions exactly. Presupposing the parts, a watch's perfection lies mainly in its functioning, in its faultless activity. Not that a perfect watch must always be running. It must however be capableof running per-fectly, capable of achieving its purpose, the telling of ,the exact time. Hence, we may say that the perfection of a watch consists in its habitual disposition to' function so as 99 AUGUSTINE KLAAS to unerringly tell the time. Or consider the student. The purpose of the student is to acquire the knowledge and intellectual proficiency demanded by the academic degree he is seeking. Granted that he has talent, sufgicient health, books, and other necessary acquirements, he will secure this kriowledge and consequently his degree by his activity,, his mental activity reflection, study, and research. And, other things being equa.1, the more develof0ed and precise his intellectual activity~ is, the .more perfectly will he achieve his purpose, the acquirement of knowledge and his degree. The perfection of the student therefore consists mainly in his intellectual activity. This does not mean that he ceases "to be a student the moment he stops studying, for he remains a student even though he '. sleeps~-of course, at-the proper time and place! What~makes him a student is an acquired disposition, a habit of intellectual activity in the pursuit of knowledge. The m6re perfect his mental habit and activity are, the more perfect a student will he be and the more per, fectly .will he .acqui/e knowledge and his degree. The purpose for which God. made man is that~ ulti-mately man be united to God in the enjoyment of the beatific vision in heaven. Now, this union admits of degrees. It will be more perfect in proportion as-sancti, lying grace is gr~eater in the soul when man comes :to the end of his earthly life. Thus, practically speaking, man's~per~ fection in this life consists in maintaining and increasing sanctifying grace in his soul, so that this life of grace may grow more and more "to perfect manhood, to the mature measure of the fulness of Christ" (Ephesians 4:13). How is this sanctifying grace increased in the soul? In two ways: first, by the worthy reception of the sacraments, which of themselves, as God's instruments for imparting grace,---ex, opere operato, as the theologians say,mincrease 100 PERFECTION AND THE RELIGIOU6 sanctifying grace in the soul; and secondly, by our activ-ity, bex opere operantis which can merit an increase of sanctifying grace. Like .that of the watch and student above, our perfection will consist principally in our activity. But what kind of activity? Not necessarilyphysical activity, for the Brother who excels as an athlete will not inevitably be more perfect than the Brother bound by paralysis to a wheel-chair. Neither does perfec~tion consist in mere intellectual activity, since Sister Mary Sapientia hugging her doctorate of philosophy is not necessarily more perfect than Sister Mary Martha hugging her pots and pans in the kitchen. Possibly Anna-Maria Taigi, that incom-parable plebeian housewife and mother, was more perfect than her learned confessor, and Guy de Fontgalland than some of his professors. Perfection does not consist in physi-cal prowess or intellectual acumen; perfection is concerned principally with will activity, that is, moral activity, the doing of good. And this moral activity is not merely natural: many pagans in the modern world do an immense amount of good but they are far from the perfection we are speaking of. When we speak of perfection we mean super-natural moral activity, that will activity which presupposes sanctifying grace in the soul and has the assistance of actual grace in its performance. Furthermore, perfection does not mean a bare minimum of doing good, but the utmost in quantity and quality, according to our capacities of nature and of grace, according to our circumstances of time, place, and opportunity. By frequent acts of doing good we merit an increase of sanctifying grace in the soul. By frequent acts of doing good a stable disposition or readiness" to do good. is formed, which in turn facilitates further good acts. Hence,- spiritual perfection may be defined as fi habitual supernatural disposition or readiness to accomplish as much good as one's IOL . AUGUSTINE KLAAS capac.ities and opportunities permit. By the' acts that flow from this disposition, by doing the maximum good, we achieve our life's purpose, the maximum growth of sancti-fying- grace in our souls and ultimately a greater union with God in the happiness of heavens. In heaven alone shall we ac.complish good to the t:ult extent of our capacities of nature and of grace. On earth, only two persons have done so, Jesus Christ, because He was the God-Man, and the Blessed Virgin, by special privi-lege. Ordinarily, however, it is impossible to realize this supreme ideal of perfection. In fact, it could be heresy to say that it were possible, for Catholic theology teaches that without a special privilege we cannot abstain for a lengthy period of time from committing at least semi-deliberate venial sins, that is,.sins of frailty and surprise, and hence, to that extent, we shall always fail to do our full measure of good. To the end of our lives we shall ever sincerely pray "forgive us this day our trespasses." The Church has condemned repiatedly the doctrine of an entirely~ sinless perfection in thisworld, as was taught by Pelagius, Molin0s, and others. On the other hand, the Church has also con-demhed in no uncertain terms the Alumbrados and the Qaietists for maintaining that we can arrive at such a state of lofty perfection that, overflowing~ with divine grace, we can neither progress nor regress any more in the spiritual life. Now, if there are limits to our sinlessness and limits tff our positive capacity for doing good, we can never accom-plish all the good of which we are theoretically capable: we can never reach the ideal norm of perfection. Neither did the saints attain tO it upon this earth. What, then, does aFor a fuller development of these ideas, confer Zimmerm~nn, Otto, S.J., Lebrbacb dee Aszetik, Herder, 1932, p. 16 ft. 102 DERFECTION AND THE RELIGIOUS perfection in this life really mean? It means an ~ver closer approximation to the ideal, the getting as near to the ideal as is humanly possible with the measure of God's grace.- given to us. This is exactly what the saints did. It means negatively, the avoidance of. deliberate venial sins and the greatest possible avoidance, of imperfections and semi-deliberate venial sins; and positively, the utmost perform-ance ofall good, whether¯ of precept or of counsel. Coun~ sel, of course, as here understood, is not restricted to the evangelical olaes of poverty, chastity, and obedience, but is taken in its w~dest sense, as referring to anything not of obligation: for example, to hear Mass on Sunday is a pre-cept, but to hear Mass on an ~ ordinary week-day may be a counsel for a particular individual. There is now no ques-tion of ~mortal sin. The ,battle against fully deliberate venial sin has been won, though occasional lapses may still . occur. Imperfections and semi-deliberate venial sins are avoided as much as possible. God's commandments and precepts, and above all. His counsels are faithfully carried out as far as is humhnly possible with the aid of God's grace in our particular position and circumstances of life. Hence, practically speaking, spiritual perfection consists in the habitual disposition and readiness of soul tO avoid imper-fections" and semi-deliberate venial sins as much as possible and, presupposing the observance of the precepts, in the utmost carrying out of the counsels, according to one's par-ticular circumstances of life and measure of God's grace imparted. This common perfection, sought after so earnestly by priests, religious, and laity, cannot be computed mathe-matically; it will vary with the individual, according to the many factors involved. ~lust as we cannot estimate the heroic perfection of the canonized saints relative to each 103 AUGUSTINE KLAA8 other or indeed to uncanonized ones, so we cannot estimate the perfection of individuals on this earth, except in a very general way: Perhaps spiritual perfection may be com-pared to exquisite perfume; individuals to vials. The vials are of various types, colors, capacities, artistic designs, and values: the excellent perfume in them is of almost countless blends, some very rare and costly. All, however, have a quality in common; all give forth the sweet fragrance of perfection, so pleasing to God and to. man. Perfection, as we have said, consists mainly in activity. Now, spiritual activity implies the possession and exercise of the virtues. Among the varied combination of virtues found in persons striving for perfection, is there one which always predominates? Is there one virtue which rules all the others like a queen and may be called the essence of perfe.ction? (To be continued) ANNOUNCEMENT After the publication of the first issue of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, we received many kind letters ofcommendation. We tried to answer ¯ each.letter, but we found that impossible. We wish to take the pres-ent occasion of thanking all who have sent us encouragement and suggestions. When the ,January issue was published, we printed what we con-sidered an amply sufl~cien~ number to satisfy all requests for back numbers and sample copies. But our supply was soon exhausted. However, we have arranged for a reprinting, and we shall soon be ablk to satisfy those who wish their subscriptions to begin with Volume 1, Number 1. --THE EDITORS. 104 RecornrnendecJ Spiritual Books THE PRESENT list of spiritual books and those that will follow from time to time are designed to be of practical assistance to religious, who by rule and inclination do a considerable amount of spiritual reading each year. The lists will include the spiritual classics of the past and also those more modern sl~iritual books which are of greater worth to religious. Only works written in English or that have been translated into English will be listed. Communities that are gradually building up a spiritual library will find in these guiding lists that fundamental nucleus of worthwhile books that must be the foundation of any spiritual library. No attempt was made to make this list complete, as it will be added to periodically. The books listed are for genera/, spiritual reading, unless otherwise indicated. Another list for general use will appear in an early issue of the REVIEW; and these will be fol-lowed by lists of a more specialized nature, for example, books for young religious, for more mature religious, meditation books, books on higher prayer, and so forth. Suggestions will be welcomed. In citing the books, it was deemed sufficient to give the name of the author in alphabetical order, the yearof his death if he is no loriger living, and the title of the book. Occasionally a short com-ment is added. Publishers are not mentioned, as these books can be procured through any large publishing house or bookstore. Read-ers may find it helpful to make a card-index list of these authors, as this can be conveniently augmented. I would suggest to those who are beginning a library to purchase the more modern books first, and then add the older classics progres-sively. Specifically, I would recommend starting with the following authors: Goodier, Leen, Marmion, Maturin, Mother Loyola, ~Plus, Pourrat, Saudreau, and Tanquerey. Of course, spiritual books per-tinent to one's own order or congregation will generally be given the ~reference in any library. Small communities that cannot afford a large library might obtain the advantages of such a library by pooling resources with other houses, and establishing some practical circulating system. ---~UGUSTINE KLAAS, S.J. 105 RECOMMENDED SPIRITUAL BOOKS ADAM, KARL The Spirit ,of Catholicism. Christ Our Brother. The Son of God. All excellent books for inspiration. ALPHONSUS LIGUORI, SAINT (1787) Ascetical Works, transJated by Grimm. 12 vols. AUGUSTINE, SAINT (430) The Confessions, edited by Dora ¯Roger Huddleston. Readings from St. Augustine on the Psalms, edited by Jos. Rickaby, S.J. The Teachings of St. Augustine on Prayer and the Contempla-tive Life, by Hugh Pope, O.P. BASIL, SAINT (379) Ascetical Works, edited by W. Clarke. 1 volume. These works describe the fundamental principles of monastic asceticism. BENEDICT, SAINT (543) The Rule of St. Benedict, translated with an introduction by Cardinal Gasquet. .The Rule of St. Benedict: A Commentary, by D0m Paul De-latte. Benedictine' Monachisrn, by Dom Cuthbert Butler. BERNARD, SAINT (1 153) Treatise on Consideration. translated by a priest of Mount Melleray. Treatise on the Love of God, translated by R. Terence Connolly. The Steps of Humility, translated by G~ B. Burch. The Life and Teachings of St. Bernard, by A. 3. Luddy, O. Cist. (Expensive.) Plus XI, in an Apostolic Letter recommended the reading of St. Bernard to religious. BLOS!US, ABBOT LOUIS, O.S.B. (1566) Spiritual Works. 6 volumes. ~ BONAVENTURE, SAINT (1274) Holiness of Life, edited by Ft. Wilfrid, O.F.M. Franciscan View of the Spiritual and Religious Life,mthree ,treatisds of St. Bonaventure, translated by P. D. Devas. Meditations on the Life of Christ, translated by Sister M. Em-manuel, O:S.B. (Excellent Fianciscan meditations, but of doubtful authenticity.) The works of St. Bonaventure were also recommended by Pius XI. 106 RECOLLV~NDED SPIRITUAL BOOKS BRUYERE, MADAME CECILIA (1909) Spiritual Life and Prayer. CABROL, ABBOT ~'-'ERNAND, O.S.B. Liturgical Prayer, Its History and Spirit. The Mass, Its Doctrine, Its History. The Year's Liturgy: Volume I, The Seasons; Volume II, The Sanctoral. CATHERINE OF SIENA, SAINT (1380) The Dialogue, translated by A. Thorold. Letters, edited by V. D. Scudder. CHAOTARD, JOHN B., O. CIST. (1936) The True Apostolate, translated by F. Girardey,C.SS.R. (On the relation of spiritual life to apostolic activity.) FABER FREDERICK W. (1863) Bethlehem. At the Foot of the Cross. All for Jesus. The Creator and the Creature. The Blessed Sacrament. Growth in Holiness. The Precious Blood. Spiritual Conferences. Faber's works are devotional and acutely psychological. FARGES, MSGR. ALBERT The Ordinary Ways of the Spiritual Life. (One of the best treatises on ascetical life.) FRANCIS DE SALES, SAINT (1622) Library of St. Francis de Sales. 7 volumes. St. Francis is the patron Saint of spiritual writers. His works were also recommended to religious by Plus XI. All religious should read them. FRANCIS OF ASSISI, SAINT (1226) The Wdtings of St. Francis of Assisi, translated by P. Robin-son, O.F.M. The Little Flowers of St. Francis of Assisi. The Ideals of St. Francis of Assisi, by H. Felder, O.M.Cap. GARRIGOU-LAGRANGE, REGINALD, O.P. Christian Perfection and Contemplation, translated by Sister M. Timothea, O.P. (One of the most widely discussed books in recent years.) GASQUET, F.AIDAN CARDINAL (1929) Religio Religiosi, (On the purpose and end of the religious life.) GAY, BISHOP CHARLES (1892) Christian Life and Virtues. Religious Life and Vows. 107 RECOMMENDED SPIRITUAL BOOI~ GOODIER, ARCHBISHOP ALBAN (1939) The Public Life of Our Lord Jesus Christ. 2 vols. The Passion and Death of. Our Lord Jesus Christ. Ascetical and Mgstical Theologg. The Life that is Light. 3 vols. (Meditation Outlines.) The Meaning of Life, and Other Essags." Witnesses to .Christ: Studies in the Gospels. Jesus Christ, the Son of God. Jesus Christ, the Model of Manhood. A More Excellent .Wag. (A ~pamphlet.) The School of Love. The Prince of Peace, Meditations. The Crown of Sorrow, Meditations~ Fiftg Meditations on the Passion. The Risen Jesus, Meditations. GOURAUD, MSGR. ALSlME. A Return to the Novitiate. (For monthly recollection.) GUARDINI, ROMANO The Spirit of the Lit~rgg. The Church and the Catholic. Sacred Signs. HEDLEY, BISHOP JOHN (19,15) The Holg Eucharist. The Light of Life. "['he Spirit of Faith. Wisdom from Abooe. Our Divine Saviour and Other Discourses. Lex Levitarum. or Preparation for the Cure o( Souls. A Spiritual Retreat for Priests. : A Spiritual Retreat for Religious. A Retreat: Thirtg-Three Discourses. IGNATIUS LOYOLA, SAINT (1556) The Spiritual Exercises. The Spiritual Exercises of ~St. Ignati'us, translation and commen-tary by J. Rickaby, S.J. The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius, .with commentary by A. Ambruzzi, S.J. A Companion to the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius, by A. Ambruzzi, S.J. JANE FRANCES DE CHANTAL, SAINT (1641 ): The "Spiritual Life. JOHN OF THE CROSS, SAINT (15 91 )' Complete Works. translated and edited by E. Allison Peers. 3 vols. (For mature religious.) 108 RECO/vIMENDED SPIRITUAL BOOKS JUERGENSMEIER, FRIEDRICH The Mystical Body of Christ as the Basic Principle of Religious Life. (A complete treatise on the spiritual life in terms ¯ . of the Mystical Body.) KEPPLER, BISHOP PAUL WILHELM (1926) " More Joy. On Suffering. LALLEMANT, LOUIS, S.3. ' (1635) Spiritual Doctrine. (For mature religious.) LEEN, EDWARD, C.S.SP. Progress through Mental Prayer. In the Likeness of Christ. The Holy Ghost and His Work in.Souls. Why the Cross? The True Vine and Its Branches. All are highly recommended. LOYOLA, MOTHER MARY (1933 The Child of God. Confession and Communion. Trust, A Book of Meditations. Welcome! Holy Communion: Before and :~fter. Hail Full of Gracer. Thoughts on the Rosary. With the Church. 2 vols. CoramSanct~simo desus of Nazareth. Heavenwards. MARMION, ABBOT COLUMBA, O.S.B. (1923)~ Christ the Life of the Soul. ,~ Christ in His Mysteries. Christ the Ideal o~ the Monk. Sponsa Verbi. The Way of the Cross. Words of Life on ~he Margin of the M~ssal. Sayings of Abbot Marmion, edited by Mother Mary St. Thomas. Certainly one of the greatest spiritual masters. MATURIN, BASLE WILLIAM. (1915) Self-knowledge and Self-discipline. Some Principles and Practices ~of t,h.e Spiritual ,Life. Laws of the Spiritual Life. Practical Studies on the Parables. MESCHLER, MAURICE, S.J. (1912) ~ Three Fundamental Principles of the Spiritual Life. Life of Our Lord desus Christ, in Meditations. 2 x~61s.' The Humanity of desus. St. doseph. The Gift of Pentecost. RECOMMENDED SPIRITUAL BOOKS MULLALY, CHARLES, J., S.J. Spiritual ReHections for Sisters. 2 volume series. NEWMAN, JOHN HENRY CARDINAL (1890) Favorite Newman Sermons, selected, by Daniel M. O'Con-nell, $.J. Heart to Heart: a Cardinal Newman Pra~lerbook, compiled by same. Kindhj Light: a Second Cardinal Newman Pra~lerbooh, com-piled by same. The Spiritual Le.qac.u of Newman, by William Robert Lamm. S.M. (A splendid synthesis of Newman's spirituality.) POURRAT, PIERRE Christian Spirituality. 3 vols. (A basic work; the only history of spirituality in English. The final fourth volume has not yet appeared in translation. A "must'; book. for serious study. Rather expensive.) PLUS, RAOUL, S.J. God Within Us. Living with God. Reparation. In Christ Jesus. Radiating Christ. The Eucharist. How to Pra[t Alwa[ls. How to pra[t Well. Facing Life---Series I: --Series H: Christ in His Brethren. The Folly of the Cross. " The Ideal of Reparation. Mary in Our Soul-life. Baptism and Confirmation. Meditations for Religious. Holiness in the Church. Progress in Divine Union. Meditations for Young Men. Meditations for Young Women. Dust, Remember Thou Art Splendor. RODRIGUEZ, ALPHONSUS, S.J. (1616) Practice of Perfection and Christian Virtues, translated by J. Rickaby, S.J. (Also recommended to religious by Plus XI.) SAUDREAU, MSGR. AUGUSTE The Degrees of the Spiritual Life. 2 vols. The Wail that Leads to God. The Life of Union with God. The Ideal of ~he Fervent Soul, These books cover all phases of the spiritual life; originally de-livered as instructions to nuns. SCARAMELLI, JOHN, S.J. (1752) The Oirectorium Asceticum, or Guide to the Spiritual Life'. 4 vols. 110 RECOMMENDED SPIRITUAL BOOKS TANQUEREY,ADOLPHE, S.S. (1932) Doctrine and Deootion. ~ The Spiritual Life. (This is the best'systematic work on ascetical theology in English. It is used as a text-book in some colleges. A "mus.t".) THERESA OF AVILA, SAINT (1582) Complete Works, translated by L~wis, edited by B. Zimmer- .man, O.C.D. (For mature religious.) THERESA OF LISIEUX, SAINT Autobiography. THOMAS A KEMPIS (1471) The Imitation of Christ. Groote or others.) (1897) (Sometimes attributed to Gerard THOMAS AQUINAS, SAINT (1274) Apology for Religious Orders. Religious State, Episcopate and Priestly Office. The Commandments of God. The Three Greatest Prayers. On Prayer and Thb Contemplative L~fe. These books must be studied, not merely read. TISSOT, JOSEPH (1894) The Interior Life Simplified. ULLATHORNE, BISHOP WILLIAM B. (1889) The Endowments of Man. Groundwork of theChristian.Virtues. Christian Patience. VONIER, ABBOT ANSCAR, O.S.B. (1938) Christ the King of Glory. A Key to the Doctrine of the Eucharist. The New and Eternal Covenant. Death and Judgement. The Life of the World t~ Come. The Angels. The Divine Motherhood. WILL)~M, DR. FRANZ The Life of desus Christ. Mary the Mother of Jesus. These books place Christ and His Blessed Mother against a background of Jewish life and customs, minutely but interest-ingly described. 11.1. The Doct:rinal Le!:!:er ot: Leo I on !:he Incarna!:ion Cyril Vollert, 8.3. THE recurrence of the Feast of the Annunciation centers our attention on an event which is never very far from the consciousness of a religious. It is the most astounding event that ever took place on this earth, the Incarnation of the Son of God. We shake our heads help-lessly when we try to appreciate what happened that day. It is too vast for the imagination to picture, too tremendous for the mind to grasp. How can we understand, with our feeble intellects, a Being who is both God and man? How can human language explain such a fact? Here, if any-where, we have need of a teacher, an interpreter. And such alone is the Church. He who will not hear the Church will go astray. No wonder, then, that throughout these two thou-sand years those who reject the Church reject this truth or, impatierit with God's revelation, pare down the truth to fit their own narrow minds. Some have insisted thai the Ttiing is impossible; and therefore Christ is only God, not man; or He is only man, not God. Others have taught that Christ was not a single Person, but two persons, God with His own divine nature, man with his own human nature. Still others, rebelling against this absurdity, and seeing in Christ only a single Person, concluded that He could have only one nature; and so, while before God became man there were two natures, one divine and one human, after the union of the two the human nature was swallowed up in the divine. Such was the notion of an ignorant and opin-ionated old monk, Eutyches by name, who in the fifth cen- 112. LEO I ON THE INCARNATION tury started a heresy which caused a theological hurricane in his own day, and which, with variations, still persists. But by the Providence of God the See of Peter was at thatl, turbulent moment Occupied by a saint and a learned theologian, Pope Leo I. Upon receipt of a full report of the error of Eutyches and the commotion stirred up by his heresy, Leo wrote a doctrinal letter about the matter to Flavian, then Bishop of Constantinople. In this letter the Pope set forth the truth in a statement so clear and exact that the Bishops assembled at the General Council of Chal-cedon a few years later acclaimed with enthusiasm. "Peter himself has spoken by the mouth of Leo"; and, "whoever does not accept the letter of our sainted Bishop Leo is a heretic." This is the famous dogmatic epistle or so-called "Tome" of Pope Saint Leo, an epistle justly cele-brated as one of the most important documents ever penned by a Roman Pontiff. In the conviction that the golden words of Leo are too precious to remain locked up in the Latin language and stored away in Volumes thumbed only by theologians and research scholars, the editors ~)f this REVIEW have desired that the principal sections of this letter be made available in an English translation. The rest of this article is devoted to such an attempt. St. Leo's Letter . All the faithful knowthe creed by which we profess belief in God the Father Almighty and in Jesus Christ His only Son, our Lord, who was born by the Holy Spirit of Mary the Virgin. By these'three propositions the machina-tions of almost all the heretics are thwarted. For belief in the omnipotent Father points out the Son, who is co-eternal ¯ with the Father and in nothing differs from the Father. because He is God born of God, Omnipotent of Omnipo- 113 CYRIL VOLLERT tint, Co-eternal of Eteraal; not later in time, not less 'in power, not Unequal in majesty, not divided in essence: And this same eternal, only-begotten Son of the eternal Father Was born by the Holy Spirit of Mary the Virgin. His birth in time, however, has taken nothing from that other divine and eternal birth from the Father; nor did it add anything, but was wholly contrived .for the redemption of man, who had been ensnared; for its purpose was to conquer death, and by its power to overthrow the tyiann~r Which the'devil exercised over death. We could not overcome the author of sin and death, unless He whom neither sin could besmirch nor death hold captive had taken.up our nature and made it His own. And so by the power ofthe Holy Spirit He was conceived in the Womb of His Virgin Mother, who gave birth to Him without hurt to her viriginity, just as she had conceived Himi without loss of the same. But we must take care not to misunders~tand this birth, which is so uniquely wonderful and so wonderfully unique. The nature proper, to the human race was not takefi away, by this new and unheard of procreation. The Ho~ly S16iri~, it is true, gave fruitfulness to the'Vir~gin, but the real body of the Son was derived from (he bod~r of the Mother. And so "the Word was made flesh, and"dwelt among hs"; .that is, the Wisdom of God built a house in the flesh which He took from a human being, and which He animated with a rational soul. ~ Thus, then, with everything pertaining to both of these natures and: substances remaining intact and coming together in one P~rson, lowliness was taken over by Majesty, weakness by Strength, mortality by Eternity. In order to pay the debt of our deplorable state, an inviolable nature was united to one that could suffer, so that one and the same Mediator between God and man, the man Jesus 114 LEO I ON THE INCARNATION Christ, could die according to one nature, even though in the other He could not die. Such was the remedy suitable to our distress. Therefore the true God was born with the complete and perfect nature of a real man, whole and entire in His own divinity, whole and entire in our humanity; in our humanity, I mean, such as the Creator made it in the beginning. This nature Christ assumed in order to restore it. The Son of God, then, has come upon our lowly earth, descending from His celestial throne without quitting the glo~ of His Father, heralding a new order of things, with a birth that is utterly unique. A new order: that is to say, He who is invisible in His own nature, has become visible in ours; He who is incomprehensible has will'ed to be com-prehended; He who exists before all time began to exist in time; the Lord of the universe, veiling His ihfinite majesty,. took the form of a servant; God incapable of suffering did not disdain to become a suffering man; God immortal did not refuse tO submit to the laws of death. And His birth was unique: for undefiled virginity, without experiencing con-cupiscence, has furnished a body of flesh. He received human nature from His Mother, but assumed no sin. But His miraculous birth does not make the human nature of our Lord ~lesus Christ, born of a Virgin, different from ours. For He who is truly God is also truly man; and although the lowliness of man and the sublimity of Deity are con-joined, there is nothing contradictory in this union. For just as God is not changed by the mercy which caused Him to become man, so neither is His humanity absorbed by His divine majesty. Each of these .natures, though in union with the other, performs functions proper to itself: ~the. Word does that which belongs to the Word, and the flesh does that which belongs to the flesh. One of these is resplend-ent with miracles, the other succumbs to injuries. And 115 CYRIL VOLLERT just as the Wor~l does not relinquish equality with the glory of the. Father, the flesh does not surrender the nature belonging to our race. One and the same Person, as we cannot repeat too often, is really the Son of God and really the son of man; God, because "in the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God"; man, because "the Word was made-flesh and dwelt among us"; God, because "all things were made through Him, and without Him was made nothing"; man, because he was "born of a woman, born under the Law." His birth according to the flesh is proof of His human nature, birth from a Virgin is a sign of His divine power. Surely when He says, "I and the Father are one," He is not speaking of the same nature as when He says, "the Father is greater than I." In a word., then, although in our Lord Jesus Christ. there is only one Person, who is both God and man, the lowliness which He~ has in common with us is from a dif-ferent source than the grandeur which He has in common with the Father. From us He has the humanity in which He is inferior to the Father, from the Father He has the divinity in which He is equal to the Father. ' This,. then, is the faith in which the Catholic Church lives, in this she grows: we believe that in Christ Jesus there is neither humanity without true divinity, nor divinity without true humanity. ~ Such in part, and without any indication of the sec-tions omitted, is the authoritative dogmatic letter written by Pope Leo I, on the 13th of June, 449. Several General Councils later incorporated some of its phrases into infallible pronouncements which in the face of heretical, opposition defined-the true. doctrine concerning Christ as revealed to the world byGod. 116 ¯ Prot:ession ot: a Novice in Danger of: Deat:h Adam C. Ellis, S.~I. pOPE Saint Pius V, a member of the Order of Preachers, issued a Constitution called Summi" Sacerdotii on August 23, 1570, whereby he allowed any novice of the second order of Dominican nuns who was in danger of death ~to make her religious profession, even though she had not completed her canonical novitiate.His motive in doing so, as stated in the Constitution, was to provide spiritual consolation for the dying novice who would otherwise be deprived of the merit of the religious profession inheaven. To the onovice thus professed at the hour of death he fur~ thermore granted all the indulgences and Other favors which the professed nuns enjoyed in the same dircumstances, and added a plenary indulgence to be gainedat the moment 6f death. By reason ~f the communication ot~ privili~ges wiaich existed between the first and second orders of St. DominiC, this favor of Saint Pius V was extendedto the first order of Friars Preachers. Later on othe~r~religious institutes obtained the same favor from the Holy See by special indult or by way of. approval of their constitutions in which it was con-tained. Pope Pius X extended this privilege to all novices of every religious order or congregation or religious society by the Decree Spirituali Consolationi of September 3, 1912, which was published by the S. Congregation Of Religious on September 10, 1912. This Decree laid down detailed regulations regarding the profession tO be made by a novice at the hour of death and regulated its effects: 117 ADAM C. ELLIS The new Code of Canon Law, which was promulgated in 1917, made no mention of the aforesaid privilege; hence the question was raised whether it was still in effect. At a -.,plenary session Of the Eminent Cardinals who form the S. Congregation of Religious, held on December 29, 1922, it was decided that the privilege still existed, and the pro-visions for this profession established by Pius X were repeated with certain additions, .and approved by Pius XI on December 30, 1922,. and ordered published the same day. We shall give the text of this document of the S. Con-gregation of Religious with a brief explanation of each point. In everg order, congregation, religious societg, or mon-asterg of men or women, likewise in institutes in which common life is observed although Oows are not taken, henceforth it is allowed to admit to profession, consecration or promise, according to the rules and constitutions, novices or probationers who, in the opinion of a doctor, are so gravely ill that they are considered to be at the point of death, even though they have not completed the period of novitiate or probation. The privilege is general, and extends to all novices, not ~onty in an order or congregation or society in which vows are taken,, but also in institutes whose members live a com- .mon life without taking public vows, but who usually, according to their constitutions, make some form of conse-cration or promise of perseverance. The only condition laid down in the general grant is that the novice, in the opinion of a ,doctor, is sick unto death. However, in order that novices or probationers ma~l be admitted to the above-mentioned profession or consecration-or promise, it is necessary: I. That they shall have canonically begun their novi-tiate or probation. 118 PROFESSION OF A DYING NOVICE The text is the same as that issued by the S. Congrega-tion of Religious in 1912. Up to that time the terms "novitiate" and "probation," "novice" and "probationer" were used synonymously. In the Code, however, the terms "probation" and "probationer" have been omitted in favor of "novitiate" and "novice", which are used exclusively to indicate those who hax;e been admitted to the period of trial preceding the religious profession. Canon 553 tells us that the novitiate begins with the reception of the habit, or in some other manner prescribed by the constitutions. This is what is meant here by beginning the novitiate or probation canonically. Postulants have not as yet begun their canon-ical novitiat.e; hence they are excluded from the privilege in question. Such is the opinion followed in practice by the S. Congregation of Religious. 2. That the superior who admits the novice or proba-tioner to the pro[ession or consecration or promise mag be, not onlg the respective major superior to whom this power belongs bg reason of the constitutions, but also the actual superior of the monasterg or novitiate or house of proba-tion, or a delegate of ang one of these superiors. Under normal' circumstances only the superior indi-cated in the constitutions can admit a novice to the profes-sion of vows. UsuallTthis power is reserved by the consti-tutions either to the superior general or to major superiors such as provincials~or their equivalent. In the case of the novice who is at the point o.f death, the local superiorof the monastery or no;gitiate house also has this power. If time permits, however, it would seem proper to refer the case t~ the major superior. To admit to profession means to give the novice permission to make his profession. The superior who does so in the case of a novice at the point of death does ¯ not need to .refer the case to his. council or to the chapter. 119 ADAM C. ELLIS Even though the dying novice be outside the monastery or novitiate house, in a hospital or sanatorium, for instance, he may be admitted to his profession, so long as .he is a canonical novice. Superiors may delegate their power of admitting the dying novice to profession, either to some other member of their institute, or to any other religious or priest, e.g. to the superior or to the chaplain of a hospital. 3. That the formula of profession or consecration or promise shall be that in use in the institute outside the case of sickness; and the vows, if taken, shall be made without determination of time or of perpetuitg. The ordinary formula of the vows, consecration, or promise is to be used, without any reference to time. There-fore such terms as: "for three years," "for ever," "for my entire life," are to be omitted. 4. That the novice who made such a profession or con-secration or promise shall share in all the indulgences, suf-frages, and other graces which the trulg professed religious receive at death; the dging novice is moreover mercifultg granted in the Lord the remission of all his sins in the form of a plenarg indulgence. This provision of the original decree of Pius X has been incorporated into .the Code in canon 567, except for the plenary indulgence. Hence every novice shares in all the privileges and spiritual graces granted to his institute, and if he dies, even though he does not make the profession in question, he has a right to the same suffrage.s which are pre.: scribed for the professed. If the novice does make his pro-fession before death, he receives a plenary indulgence granted him by the Holy See. This plenary indulgence is enjoyed only at the moment of death, since Pius V expressly states this, and Plus X intended to grant this favor in the same way in which it was originally granted. 120 PROFESSION OF A DYING NOVICE 5. That this profession or consec?ation or promise shall have no effect other than to confer the graces' (favors) men-tioned in the precedingonumber. Hence: (A) If the no~2ice 6r probationer dies intestate after ~uch 'a profession or con-secration or promise, the institute cannot lay claim .to any of the property or rights which belonged to him. (B) If the novice recovers before the expiration, of the time required for his, noviceship or pr.obation, he shall be in exactly the same condition as if he had made no profession. Accord- .inglg : a) he may freetg return to the world if he wishes to do so; b) superiors can dismiss him; c) he must fill out the entire time prescribed in each institute for the novitiate or probation, even though it eJcceed one year; d) at the expira-tion of this time, if he perseveres, the novice must make a new profession or consecration or promise. ¯ The profession made by the novice at the hour of death is personal 'and conditional. If ,the novice dies, he enters eternity as-a true religious, and receivesthe same merit as any other religious by reason of his corisecration of himself to God. " I.f he recovers, the profession made has no, canoni-cal effect whatsoever. The novice is in the same condition as he was before be .fell ill, and consequently, he, on his part, must fulfill .all the requirements of the law for his subse-quent profession. He is canonically free to leave.the novi-tiate at any time, if he so desires: Superiors, on their part, may dismiss him as they may dismiss any other novic~. The entire purpose of allowing a novice to make his profession at the hour of death is to give him the spiritual consolation of dying as a religious. Finally, the Sacred Congregation declares that there is no objection to inserting the foregoing provision in consti-tutions of orders and congregations, if the institutes them-selves ask to do so~ i21 ADAM C. ELLIS The use of the privilege contained in the declaration of the S: Congregation given above does not depend upon its being inserted in the constitutions of an institute. All dying ¯ ~novices may be allowed the use of the privilege, even though it is not contained in the constitutions of their institute. But if the institute wishes to insert the provisions of this instruc-tion in its constitutions, it must first obtain the permission of the S. Congregation of Religious, which will grant it for the asking. PAMPHLET REVIEWS ~ We have received several booklets that are deserving of special notice in a periodical such as ours. A Novena to St. Francis Xavier is a series of reflections on salva-tion and missionary work, written especially for children. The Wag of the Cross, by a Maryknoll Missionary, is a manual for the Stations which is particularly interesting because the illustrations are artistic woodcuts representing the characters of the Passion as Chinese. For information about the booklets, write to The Maryknoll Bookshelf, Maryknoll P.O., New York. A Saintly Shepherd of Souls is a pamphlet life of the Venerable John Neumann, C.SS.R., the fourth Bishop of Philadelphia. Itcon-tains 47 pages of interesting and inspiring facts. The author is the Reverend Albert Waible, C.SS.R., Vice-Postulator ofthe cause of the Venerable Neumann. The pamphlet may be procured from the Mis-sion Church Press, 1545 Tremont St., Boston, Mass. 5 cents a copy: $3.50 per hundred. Besides the foregoing, we have received two booklets by the Right Reverend Raphael J. Markham, S.T.D. : Apostolate to Assist Dying Non-Catholics; and Apostolate of Prayer for S~roinarians. We hope to treat Monsignor Markham's messages at some length in future issues of THE REVIEW. 122 I eligious and 0t: he Decalogue Gerald Kelly, S,J. I1| T IS the imperative duty of the pastor to give his days I and nights to the consideration of it (the Decalogue) : and to this he should be prompted by a desire not only to regulate his own life by its precepts, but also to instruct in the law of God th~ people committed to his care." These very strong words are quoted from the most authoritative of all catechisms, Tl~e Catechism of the Council of Trent, (also called The Ro~an Catechism). The injunction is, of course, directed to pastors of souls: but it scarcely need be pointed out howap ipropr¯iate it is for all religious, even though they be n0~ pastors, or even priests. The per-sonal reason is applid~ble to all of us; the fact that we have embraced the life of t,he Counsels does not exempt us from a careful observance of: the Commandments, The apostolic reason is also apphc,able to a very large percentage of us. Comparatively few of us.are not called upon at one time or another to:give catechetical instruction. I. Content of the Decalogue One may state, therefore, without fear of contradic-tion that religious should study and meditate over the Commandments of God. But a further question might well be asked: What should they study? What ought they to know as an aid to their personal observance of the Deca-logue and as the proper and sufficient equipment for apos- ~tolic work, should they be called upon to catechize? ~Thi~s is an important practical question, and it can hardly be answered without a few preliminary remarks concerning the content, or subject-matter, of the Decalogue. 123 GERALD KELLY It is sometimes said that every Commandment, even though it be phrased negatively ("Thou shalt not") ,, really contains two sides, an affirmative and a negative. It com-mands some things and forbids Others. This statement is a step in the right direction. It helps to counteract a purely negative attitude toward God's law. But, though a step in the right direction, the statement does not go far enough. It stil! leaves the Commandments difficult to explain. It is, perhaps, better to say that each Commandment, even though phrased in a purely negative manner, really does three things: First, it indicates a whole field of virtuous acts which it is both natural and becoming for a human being to perform; secondly, it commands certain minimum essentials of.virtue necessary for preserving the dignity of a o human being; and thirdly, it forbids certain thoughts and acts which either mar or destroy thebeauty of human nature. In subsequent issues of~this REVIEW we shall give thor-ough explanations of these Various aspects of the Com-mandments., For the present purpose, each aspect can be illustrated by a brief reference to the First Commandment. At the beginning of the Decalogue, we find the expres-sion: "I am the Lord, thy God." This is rather the foun-dation of the Commandments than a part of any one of them. It expresses a great and fundamental truth from which the Commandments flow in logical,' natural sequence. Itpresents us with a sublime picture of reality.~ On the one hand is God, almighty, eternal, a being 0f supreme and infinite excellence, and the Creator of the world; on the other hand is man; a creature endowed with intellect and free will, produced entirely by God and depending absolutely on God for all the good that he is or has or does. One who appreciates this basic relationship between 124 THE STUDY OF THE DECALOGUE man and God will not find it difficult to conclude that man ought to acknowledge his. relationship. A whole-souled devotion to his Creator is a good thing for man; and-any: acts by which he can honor God are good and appropriate for him. Fit expressions of his place with referenc~ to God are such things as adoration, the prayer of petition,~ praise, or thanksgiving. If God should speak to him, man should listen reverently and should place the most absolute faith in His word and the most unhesitating trust in His promises and in His power, and so forth. Thus, even the first glance at the reality of God and man, shows a whole field of per-fection that it is appropriate for man to cultivate. That is What is mean~ by saying that each Commandment ir~dicates a sphere of virtuous acts that it is natural and becoming fdr man to perform. From the point of view of mere appro-priateness, there is no limit to this sphere of action; the more frequently and the more fervently man can thus honor God, the better it is, The only actual limit is man's small capacity and the fact that his other needs and duties in life must necessarily prevent him from spending his entire time in explicit acts of worship. Realizing now the fitness of man's worshipping God, We come to the Second point. Are all of these acts of wor-ship optional for man, or are some of them obligatory? The very law of nature answers the question. Man must per-form some of these acts of virtue; without some worship of God, he fails to live up to the dignity of his created human nature. So this is the second thing that the Commandment does: it prescribes the minimum essentials of virtue in this field, some acts of adoration, some prayer, and so forth. Finally, we come logically to the third aspect. If acts of divine worship are appropriate for human nature, and certain acts are obligatory, it follows that any acts which conflict with~ this fundamental law of worship are 125 GERALD KELLY unworthy of man. Thus, he is forbidden to give to a crea-ture the honor belonging uniquely to God, forbidden to worship God in an unbecoming manner. These prohibi- ¯tio, s form an important part of the Commandment, bht by no means the principal part of it. They are not even understood without some reference to the positive side. The foregoing brief analysis of the First Commandment illustrates the statement that each Commandment may-be considered under three heads: the virtue indicated; the vir-tuous acts.prescribed; and the vicious acts t:orbidden. With this divisidn clearly in mind, we are now in a position to take up the question: what should a religious study in regard to the Decalogue? II. What a Religious Should Know To reverse the order and begin with the prohibitions, all religious should have a clear, well-defined knowledge of those things in which they themselves are likely to be tempted. They should know what precisely is forbidden, and to what extent it is forbidden, .that is, whether a viola-tion would be a mortal or a venial sin. This degree of knowledge is necessary for personal peace of conscience, and it should be imparted bymeans of adequate instruction. The policy of leaving all personal perplexities of conscience to be solved by an occasional word from a confessor is not a sound one. Very often a person who has not received ade-quate instruction is unable to express his difficulty to the confessor or unable to appreciatethe congessor's advice, and this sometimes leads to long periods of racking and entirely needless doubt. Moreover, the policy of hedging when explaining moral obligations to religious, of confusing ascetical norms with moral norms, slight obligations with serious obligations, is also difficult to justify. It breeds false consciences and often enough is the cause of scruples. 126 THE STUDY OF THE DECALOGUE Of course, it may be said that many of the prohibitions of the Decalogue will not affect religious: they will be seldom or never tempted in some matters. However, there is the further fact that a large percentage of our religious do give catechetical instruction on the Commandments. Now, even the small Baltimore Catechism, treating of the First Commandment, lists suchforbidden things as these: making use of spells and charms; belief in dreams, spiritists. and fortune-tellers: presumption; despair. The ability to teach the First Commandment requires that one have a. dear, soundly-theologicalknowledge of~ what constitutes sin in these matters. And the ability to teach the other Commandments requires, among other things, that one know the difference bdtween such things as blasphemy, cursing, and profane words; between just anger and inex-cusable anger; between thoughts and actions which are directly against purity and thoughts and actions which are merely dangerous to purity. A teacher should know these differences, should know also what makes a sin of injustice, disobedience, hatred: and when such sins are venial, when mortal. One does nbt get these notions by intuition: nor do the simple ,definitions of the c~itechism furnish a sufficient knowledge fo~? the teacher, inregard to almost; every sin listed here, great theologians draw sharp distinctions. These distinctions can be known only when they are studied and competently explaine& As fbr the things prescribed by the Commandments, the same:limits may be set for the minimum essentials of knowledge demanded of the' religious. He should know precisely what is commanded, and. whether itis commanded under pain of serious or Venial sin. He should know these things f0i his own peace of conscience; he should know them as a necessfiry background for his teaching, in case he should ,be called upon to instruct others ~,' i27" GERALD KELLY All this is not intended to carry the inference that reli-gious need a confessor's knowledge of the Decalogue. Nor is it even insinuated that teachers of the catechism should give their pupils complete descriptions of all the sins listed in the catechism or all the subtle distinctions that can be made between mortal and venial sin. But religious should know what is necessary for their own peace of conscience, as well as those things that form a necessary background for giving catechetical instruction, so that, when called upon for an explanation, they can give something that is simple and adapted to the listener and, above all, that they may avoid giving inaccurate answers that imbed themselves into a young soul like a malignant germ and that breed what eventually becomes a practically incurable case of scruples. Strictly speaking, the Commandments, in the sense of Divine Laws imposing moral obligations under pain of sin, consist only in preceptsand prohibitions~ Yet the study of the Commandments should not be limited to such things. These obligations cannot be correc~tly understood without some appreciation of what has been called the first aspect of the Commandments, that is, the virtues indicated by them, For how is. one to perceive the reason why he must worsbilo at some time and in some manner, unless he first realizes that the worship of God is a good and beauti-ful thing in itself? How is one to understand the obliga-tion of obedience, unless he first perceives the inherent good-ness of respect for legitimate authority? How is one to appreciate the obligations of chastity unless he first, becomes conscious of the dignity and beauty of the divine plan of paternity and family life, of which chastity is the guardian? Evidently, for th~ religious themselves, this first and eminently positive phase of the Comma'ndments is a decid-edly salutary subject of study and meditation. They may have relatively few temptations to violate them; but they 128 THE STUDY OF THE DECALOGUE have abundant oppbrtunities for living them and for loving them. Surely the refrain of the ll8th Psalm, "O Lord, how have I loved Thy law," should fill the soul of every-one dedicated to the service of God. It ~should lighten an'd make joyous the burden of his own obligations; it should communicate inspiration tO those with whom he exercises his apostolate. And the,people with whom we deal are sadly in need of inspiration; it is surprising how many of them, even ~he good people, have a decidedly negative and uninspired attitude towards the Commandments. All of us are, no doubt, familiar with the following typical scene of boy life. ~We can call the boy 3ohn, aged ten. He has finished his supper and is paging somewhat listlessly through the newspaper. He has seen the comics and the sports page' so there is reall~r nothing in the paper to-interest him. Actually he is not perfectly at ease. One gloomy eye is straining toward his bedroom where certain evil things called schoolbooks await him, another gloomy eye is straining toward the' kitchen, whence his mother will presently emerge' and order him to betake himself to those same sctiool books. (There are still some mothers like that.) Suddenly he h~ars welcome sounds. He rushes to the door and peers Out. Yes, it's "the gang" getting ready for an evening game. No more gloom in his eyes now; ~hey are all eagerness. ' "Morn," he calls, "How about letting me go out and play just one game? I'll be back in a little while." "No, 3ohn," comes the firm answer. "You've had plenty of platy today. It's time to study now, so get to your books." No amount of coaxing prevails over his mother's firm-ness, and finally 3ohn turns from the door. But the bright-ness is gone again from his eyes. Heavy feet, heavy heart, 129 GERALD KELLY slumping shoulders: he is the picture of youthful misery as he trudges his way from the sounds of boyish delight and slumps down into a chair over the dreaded school books. "She's a good mother," would run his thoughts translated into words, "but she doesn't understand. Otherwise she wouldn't make it so hard." That little drama of the child-world exemplifies the negative attitude of many even good people toward the Commandments. They find in the Commandments only ten negations of comfort and ease and content, ten privations of pleasure and freedom. They turn away from these for-bidden pleasures with a heavy Step and a heavy heart. They find no thrill in the keeping of the Commandments: often they seem to have a sneaking suspicion that God, like 3ohn's mother, just doesn't understand: otherwise He -would not make it so hard. In the various moral crises of life they overcome themselves, they keep the law, but even their victories are dulled by that boy-like heaviness of soul. They will be faithful, cost what it may: but the only joy of it lies in the subsequent good conscience. They deny them-selves, they repress themselves, and in these conflicts with self, it never occurs to them to lift up their heads and lighten their hearts with the thought that in thus repressing their lower selves they are really expressing their better selves. If possible, we should prevent or change this negative attitude. But we shall hardly do this unless we ourselves appreciate the beauty of God's law. The Roraar~ Cate-chism suggests several motives calculated to inspire a love of the Decalogue, and in particular it. stresses the fact that the observance of the moral law "proclaims more eloquently the .glory and the majesty of God than even the celestial bodies, which by their beauty and order excite the admira-tion of the most barbarous nations and compel them to acknowledge and proclaim the glory, the wisdom, and the 130 THE STUDY OF THE DECALOGUE power, of the Creator arid Architect of the universe." These solemn words touch on something fundamental to the Commandments: their relation to the glory of God. This theme is too large for fuli~ treatmen~ here. " The next section of this article contains a merely partial development of it, an indication of one kind of prayerful reflection that may serve to increase our appreciation of the Decalogue as a code of moral beauty. III. The Decalogue and Moral Beautg The observance of the Decalogue gives God great glory. In order to avoid theological technicalities in expanding on this motive, it will not be out of place for us to indul'ge in. the following bit of reverent fantasy. Imagine you have a pair of wings that will take yo~u back through time'. Swiftly you pass the century marks, the nineteenth, eighteenth., first., on into the ages before Christ, before Moses, until at last you come to the dividing line between time and eternity. You cross that line, then you turn back and rub it out; and, though it all seems quite absurd and impossible, you are alone with God before the creation of the world! You are alone with God, and you have this problem ~to solve: Why might God create the world? Remember that God is an intelligent being, and if He is to create, He must have a reason; yes, and a reason that is worthy of Himself. You are looking for that reason. Where shall you look for this reason for creating? Only in God; nothing else exists. So you must look intently upon God; you must, so to speak, search the depths of God for some possible reason for the existence of creatures. Your first search, though filled with wonders, is a dis-appointment. ,Here in God is all perfection in an infinite degree; here is the marvelous inner life, the Blessed Trinity. revealed: the Father, the Son, the Holy Spirit, infinitely 131 GERALD KELLY happy and blessed in Their possession of the Divine Essence and of One Another. But this is no reason for creating; this is rather a reason for not creating. There appears to be neither need, 'nor use, nor even the possibility of any other being. So you shake your head and turn away; you have not solved the riddle of creation. But look again, look deeper, as it were; and in- the clear placid ocean of Divine perfection you begin to see-the pat-terns of a limitless number of tiny beings, none of them equal to God, but each of them reflecting something of God. Here is one of the vast treasures of the Divinity, the tremen-dous possibility of s~arino His loveliness. Here you see the types of a great variety of beings, each of which God could bring into existence, each of which in its own way and according to its own limited capacity,, could manifest some-thing of the Divine Perfection. You have solved the riddle; you have discovered a reason for creation worthy of God Himself. It is His own Goodness which is, so to speak, a fountain of perfection that He can share with others, without loss to Himself. Thus, our little trip of fantasy has brought us face to face with the truth solemnly defined by the Vatican Council, that God created the world, not to acquire anything for Him-self or to increase His own perfection; but simply to com-municate it to otl~ers. This sublime truth, the object of our fantastic journey into the creative mind of God is intimately associated with the glory that man gives to God by the observance of the Commandments. If we return now from the mind of God into the realm of creatures, we na~turally expect to find that every creature, be it tiny, be it great; is a finite.expression of God, a reflection of some divine perfection. The drop of water, the grain of sand, the flower in the field, the family kitten, the sun, the moon, the stars, the entire universe-- 132 THE STUDY OF THE DECALOGUE each and all of these things show forth in some way the beauty, the loveliness, the majesty .of God. And they do this simply/~ beir~g tt~emseloes, by being faithful copies of~ the original masterpiece hidden within the depths of God. Everything in the world reflects God's goodness, and thus gives God glory, by following the law of its nature. Even those who never think of God are constantlT recognizing this law of the nature of things in their search for comfort and beauty and goodness. The cook enters her kitchen and bakes a cake that makes one's mouth ,water. She does not do this by seizing a. number of things at ran-dom, kneading them into some kind of dough, and tossing the mixture into the oven. She follows a definite recipe, and this recipe is only a formula worked out on the prin~ ciple that certain things react in a certain way with other things and produce a definite result. The engineer goes into his laboratory and plans a stream-lined train or some elec-trical marvel. He is searching for the laws that God wrote into the materials. The physical culturist who specializes in the body beautiful simply makes use of God's laws of sound and symmetrical bodies. The orchestra, playing a symphony that almost transports one into another world, follows the same notes that once burned through the brain of the composer. The composer is called a creator, yet he has not created. The music is also God's creature; the com-poser merely discovered .and applied the laws of harmony to produce this thing of entrancing beauty. So it is all through nature, true beauty is achieved by having things act according to their natures. That law is apparent in the simplest and in the grandest things---in the cake, in the symphony, in the splendors of the heavens. And the same law holds for man's contribution to the beauty of the universe; he must follow the law of his na-ture, the Decalogue. Man's duty and privilege is to sing 133 . GERALD KELLY unto God a glorious hymn of praise; the notes are the Com-mandments. Following these notes faithfully; he constantly ¯ raises toward heaven a sweet-toned benedicite which far ,surpasses any human composition. His unique contribu-tion to the beauty of the universe is moral beauty, and this, as The Roman Catechism points out, excels all the splen-dors of the irrational world. We all know something of the beauty of a single human soul in which the divine likeness is unblemished by sin. What if all souls were like that; what if all men at all times and in all places observed the Commandments of God! The combined interior beauty of all those souis 'would be indescribable; and exteriorly also the world would be a paradise. The one true God would be worshipped every-where according to His will; His holy name would be sounded only in reverence; all authority, as it comes from Him, would be pledged to Him .and exercised only according to His wise laws; parents would be devoted to their children, and children to their parents; human life and property and honor would be sacred;~ purity and marital fidelity would be everywhere esteemed. No idolatry, no persecutions, no blasphemies, no murder, no thefts, no .unjust. wages,, no obscenity, no backbiting or slander, no wars, no class conflict!! We could close our jails, divorce courts, reform schools; we could do away with burglar alarms and safes. There would be noarmaments to con-sume our capital, no death-weapons to slay our youth. A picture such as this reminds one of the Garden of Eden. Of course, when we view the moral turmoil that actually exists, we must label such a picture another fantasy. Yet it is .well for us to contemplate it, unreal though it happens to be; for it shows us the beauty and harmony the Com-mandments are supposed to produce. It shows us what the world could be, if man, like the irrational things, lived up 134 THE STUDY OF THE DECALOGUE to his nature. In the last section of this article, some considerations were offered that may help towards an appreciation of the Commandments as laws of moral beauty. Only the Deca-logue was mentioned exp!icitly, but for their personal meditations, religious might easily build upon that notion and see how all the laws that govern them are intended to bring out more sharply.some form of goodness. For in-stance, we know that God has given us not merely human natures, but super-natures; the life of Grace; and for pre-serving and developing this higher form of goodness He has supplemented the Decalogue with the laws of the super-natural life. The Church, legislating with authority from God, has given .us other laws, planned to make us good Catholics. The founders and foundresses of our religious societies, captivated by some particular form of Christlike-hess, have drawn up their constitutions with the aim of developing this Christlikeness in their followers. By the observance of these various laws, we can scale a tall pyramid of moral beauty. But we should ever keep in mind that at the base of this pyramid is the law that St. Augustine rightly called the foundation and epitome of all laws, the Decalogue. BOOKS RECEIVED (To be reviewed later.) MEDIEVAL HUMANISM. pan),. New York. THE CATHOLIC REVIVAL IN ENGLAND. By John J. O'Connor. MacMillan Compan),. New York. FAST BY THE ROAD. B), John Mood),. The MacMillan Compan)'. York. PRINCIPLES OF CHRISTIAN AND RELIGIOUS PERFECTIOI~L Brothers. Poughkeepsie, N. Y. By Gerald G, Walsh, S.J. The MacMillan Coat- The . New Marist 135 ook Reviews PROGRESS IN DIVINE UNION. By the R6~,erend Raoul Phs, S.J. Pp. 142. Translated from the French by Sister M. Bertlile and Sister iVl. St. Thomas, Sisters of Notre Dame, of Cleveland, Ohio. Frederick Pustet, Inc., New York, 1941. $1.S0. This little work of the well-known French ascetical writer treats cl~arly and forcefully of two. great means of making progress in union with God: namely, "generous self-conquest," and "the spirit of prayer." To the former, four chapters are devoted, each one devel-oping a major motive for self-conquest: self:preservation, expiation, imitation of our Lord, and redemption. If the redemptive process is to be completedby the Mystical Christ, that is, if more and more individual soul~ are actually to be brought to the divine life, then it is simply necessary that more and more good Chri.~tians, themselves already members, should make up in their persons what is lacking in the sufferings of Christ and thus put themselves into condition to enable others to enter that mystical incorporation or to grow in it. Christians need not only to be assimilated to Christ themselves and to be united with Him; they must go beyond this point and carry out the work of Christ in bringing others, as many as possible, to the saving knowledge and love of God. But self-conquest alone is not sufficient. To it must be added prayer, especially mental prayer, in it one learns "to experience in one's wh01e being the reality considered: the greatness of God, the immensity of His love, the infinite mercy of our Savior . the expiatory or redemptive pow. er of suffering, the incomparable price of life, or the splendor of deatfi." The work closes with a section on recollection and th~ continuous maintenance of union with God throughout all of one's occupations. No doubt this little book of Fr. Plus's xvill be much welcomed by the many for whom he has become a favorite devotional author:--G. A. ELLARD, S.,J. COLORED CATHOLICS IN THE UNITED STATES. By the Reverend John T. Gillard, S.S.J. Pp. x -f- 298. Josephlte Press, Baltimore, 1941. $3.00. All who are interested in, the Negro problem, whether from a purely scholarly or a practical point of view, will welcome this new 136 BOOK REVIEWS statistical study. Father Gillard is a well known authority on the Negro question. This, together with the care with which he has gathered his statistics and the caution with which he presents his findings, renders Colored Catholics in the United States a valuable reference book. It is not a new venture for Father Gillard. Rather it is an improvement and amplification of an earlier volume published in 1929. The book contains a pleasant mixture of facts and comment. The facts were gathered from the dioceses of the United States and the numerous organized enterprises that are predominantly Negro, and are presented in convenient tables. They cover: the Colored Catholic population according to dioceses, sections, states; free colored, slave, and white population for Southern and Northern Louisiana for the years 1810 and 1860; capacity of Negro Catholic churches in Louisi. ana in 1860; a scholarly estimate of the number of Negro Catholics in the United States at the time of emancipation; and statistics, on the churches, schools, missions, priests, nuns, and welfare works dedicated to Colored Catholics. Throughout the book Father Gillard contrasts the condition of the various fields of work in the past with the present, and offers some explanation of the losses and gains. He gives a full treatment of the difficult problems of indifference, prejudice, and migration. Since this book is something of the nature of an almanac, it is unfortunate that it is not available in an inexpensive paper-bound edition. While there is need of a well-bound edition for schools and libraries, a paper-covered copy would be convenient on the desk of every student of the race problem or worker in any of the many fields of endeavor for the betterment of the Colored race. This is especially true since the available census statistics on Colored Catholics are admittedly inaccurate.--J. T. WHITE, 8.3. [NOTE: Our readers are very likely aware of the fact that Father Gillard died quite unexpe.ctedly since this book review was written, mED.] ONE INCH OF SPLENDOR. By Sister Maw Rosalla of Ma~knoll. Pp. 90. Field Afar Press, New York, 1941. $1.00. It is good for us all to realize that the Catholic Church is truly catholic. This is one of the effects of this book. Here is a tale of old China, a whitened harvest field of souls crying for reapers. It is into this distant land that the Sisters of Maryknoll carry the torch of faith. ¯. 137 BOOK REVIEWS We go at once into the home of Chinese peasants, we see the women fingering and studying the crucifix on the Sisters' habits. The Sisters go on from village to village0 from that of Long Sand Bar to Dangerous Rapids and farther to the village of the Fr~igrance of. the Cinnamon Tree. And everywhere, into both Catholic and pagan homes, they bring the good news, the truth of the Lord of Heaven. In towns, far removed from priest and chapel, they form Rosary Sodalities which will meet on Sunday for the benefit of those unable to travel the 19ng distance to the mission church. Everywhere they recruit members for the Study-the-Doctrine- Time, the catechumenate, to be held within a few months at Rosary Convent. All their work is directed towards this goal f to get pagans to come to this instructiori class. Then, at the convent, during forty days, intensive instruction is given the neophytes. We see old women, young children, all trying to master the fundamentals of our religion. Red marks appear on brown foreheads, as the long nails of Chinese fingers bruise the skin in their effort to trace the sign of the cross. Finally, the examinations are held and the three score and odd pagans are baptized. The Church has grown another inch irr China. This book is recommended for convent community reading. Readers will find that the problems of missionary Sisters are not altogether different from those which they themselves experience. And a greater love for our Faith, which is so eagerly embraced by the Chinese, should spring up in the soul. An'inspiring oneness will.be experienced with these courageous Sisters who have left home, with all the word means, to bring light where before there had been 0nly darknes~.--M. J. DONNELLY, S.~I'. LITURGICAL WORSHIP. By ~1. A. Jungmann, S,J. Translated by a monk of St. John's Abbey, Collegeville: foreword by Rt. Ray. Alculn Deufsch, ¯ Abbot of Collecjeville. Pp.xil -k 141. Frederick Pustet, Inc., New York. 1941. $1.2S. This is a very precious little book, the best in its field known to the reviewer, and, though meant in~fiist instance for priests, both in subject-matter and in presentation, it' should appeal to all religious as Christians and as worshippers of God. In the late Summer of 1938 the Carffsianam at Innsbruck held an institute for priests on "The Theology of Today," at which '~the 138 BOOK REVIEW8 central topic of discussion was the matter of giving a mor~ forceful and dynamic expression to'abstract theological truths." Father 3ung-mann's lectures there delivered, although advanced by the author as something of a rough sketch, were demanded for publication, The German original appeared, in consequence, in 1939. The present reviewer has had the work within arm's length since then and has read it, not once or twice, but six or seven times. No author, so it seemed, had so clearly "isolated" the essentials of Christian worship, none so felicitously outlined the basic laws of development inherent in the very nature of theliturgy. Whether one is interested in some small point" of the present stiucture of the Office, or concerned with the place of the vernacular in modern Dialog Mass, the ultimate a'nswer, illustrated, by historical facts and instances, was almost sure to be indicated in 2ungmann's slender book. It is a great boon to have this now. made available in the.incomparably wider circles of the English-language public. One can list in a moment the themes handled in the volume, but only familiarity with the book itself can convey an idea of how much light is shed on a whole array of pointsall to the fore in the current liturgical movement. Starting with the elemental definition, "Liturgy is the public worship of the Church," the author with skill, and logic, and tact, shows the shortcomings of other definitions, while he draws out the unsuspected depths contained in the formula defended. The second chapter, "In Whom is the Liturgy Reposed?," deals with priesthood, the Priesthood of Christ in Head and members, and the relation of.the ministerial priesthood of Holy Orders towards both Head' and members. "Two Tendencies" are briefly sketched in Chapter Three, that of liturgy toward the beautiful and that of liturgy toward popular appeal. In tracing the working out of these tendencies, a good deal of basic religious psychology is mirrored in miniature. Chapter Four is the kernel of the book: it deals With the Ground- Plan, that worship (ideally) begins with a reading, which is followed by a song, then prayer by the people, and finally, prayer by the priest. In the remaining chapters each of these elements is handled at greater length by itself: The Reading (V), The Singing .(VI), The Prgyer of the People (VII), and The Prayer of the Priest (VIII). Each chapter is scholarly, each chapter is valuable, and their cumulative effect is irresistible. 139 ¯ BOOK. R

Issue 51.2 of the Review for Religious, March/April 1992. ; 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. 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 ~,¥ashington, D.C. 20017. I}OSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional offices. SUBSCRIPTION RATES Single copy $5.00 includes surface mailing costs. One-year subscription $15.00 plus mailing costs. Two-year subscription $28.00 plus mailing costs. See inside back cover for subscription information and mailing costs. ©1992 Review for Religious for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Assistant Editors Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Michael G. Harter sJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe David J. Hassel SJ Mary Margaret Johanning SSND Iris Ann Ledden SSND Se;in Sammon FMS Wendy Wright PhD Suzanne Zuercher OSB Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living MARCH / APRIL1992 ¯ VOLUMES1 ¯ NUMBER2 contents 166 182 191 2O6 217 229 236 ministry and ministries The Spiritual Exercises as a Foundation for Educational Ministry Walter J. Burghardt SJ reflects on the vision and values given to educational ministry when it is permeated by the spirituality of Ignatius Loyola's Spiritual Exercises. Going the Distance, Sustaining the Gift Melannie Svoboda SND suggests some concrete ways that people can joyfully exercise their ministry over the long haul. Newman's Living the Oratory Charism Halbert G. Weidner CO explains the Oratory foundation of Philip Neri in order to highlight values significant to John Henry Newman's life. theology and spirituality The Resurrection Kernel Dennis Billy CSSR outlines the basic principle of the doctrine of the resurrection in order to show its influence in our way of living. The Fragile Connection between Prayer and Suffering Matthias Neuman OSB speaks from his own experience of how human suffering affects our prayer. To Choose Jesus for My Heaven Donald Macdonald SMM finds Julian of Norwich's insights into the maternal love of Jesus expressed in the Blessed Sacrament. religious life and renewal Seeing in the Dark Janet Ruffing RSM finds light in John of the Cross's description of the Dark Night for understanding the current turmoil in reli-gious life. 162 Review for Religious 249 260 267 Memories of the Future Thomas McKenna CM shows how eschatology as a style of thinking provides understanding for the renewal efforts in reli-gious life. Integrating Postmodernity and Tradition Reid Perkins OP encourages the greater use of narratives in reli-gious life to connect us to the tradition and at the same time to help us overcome the obliviousness of postmodern life. Religious-Life Issues in a Time of Transition John A. Grindel CM and Sean Peters CSJ summarize the results of various studies of U.S. religious life funded by the Lilly Endowment and point to issues still to be dealt with. living religiously 276 Cultivating Uselessness Rose Hoover RC proposes that in the very experience of useless-ness and foolishness lies the gift of religious life to a pragmatic society. 282 Therapy for Religious: The Troublesome Triangle Joyce Harris OSC offers some suggestions for a collaborative rela-tionship among therapist, the individual religious, and the com-munity and its representative. 289 294 Prenovitiate: Theory and Practice Anthony Steel SSG believes a prenovitiate program can help meet the challenges of contemporary cultural attitudes toward religious life and outlines the plan for his community. report U.S. Hispanic Catholics: Trends and Works 1991 Kenneth Davis OFM Conv reviews the various events and writ-ings in the Catholic Hispanic experience. departments 164 Prisms 303 Canonical Counseh Hermits and Virgins 309 Book Reviews March-April 1992 163 prisms Teilhard de Chardin in The Divine Milieu observes that the larger half of our lives is made up of what happens to us. His observation comes home to us each year as we celebrate the great high holy days of Christianity-- Holy Thursday, Good Friday, Holy Saturday, and Easter Sunday. Paradoxically Jesus accomplishes the work of redemption, his life's purpose, in what happens to him in his suffering, death, and resurrection. We enter into this paradox by our celebration of these days. We cannot change history, we cannot undo what has happened. Our celebration allows us in our own time to enter into what happened to Jesus and to be with him, to stand alongside, to feel com-passion- as helplessly as we listen to someone tell of being tortured by a totalitarian regime or as we sit at the bedside of a dying loved one. No activity of ours changes the event; compassionate presence is the difficult but precious gift we can give. Of course it is also our privilege to share in some-one's joy and happiness, as we do when we celebrate the res-urrection victory of Jesus. Despite the fact that so many of us are spectator-sports people, whether in the stadium or in front of the TV set, we are not comfortable being spectators of an evil we can-not eliminate and sometimes even of a happiness which lit-tle touches our lives. We may find other people's parties empty of fun for ourselves, and we may dread visiting a neighbor in the hospital.We would rather not drive through derelict inner-city neighborhoods, we would brush past the homeless person sleeping over heating grates in our down-towns, or we would switch TV channels if the images of starving Sudanese children with distended stomachs are too graphic. The problems seem too large for our efforts to make a difference. Our activity and our emotions seem 164 Review for Religious frozen. Even though we are members of the Body of Christ, we often choose not to see and not to hear. When hostages return exuberantly to waiting families, when a comatose girl revives to the joy of her parents, when government agencies extend unemployment benefits for those hurting in a reces-sion economy, how often do we feel a thrill and utter a prayer of thanks to God? Too often we keep ourselves emotionally distant even from the joys of others around us, probably because they just "happen" and leave us personally unaffected. St. Paul could state, by analogy with our human bodies, that if one member suffers all the members suffer with it; if one member is honored, all the members share its joy. The Easter events challenge us always in what we do and in what happens to us. If God is truly the God of our life, then we find the opportunity of meeting God both in what we set out to do and in what happens to us. Jesus' crucifixion confronts the activist in each of us to question our judgment about our most valued "work." All of our dyings become not the entropy of exhaustive waste, but graced moments of freedom to embrace another givenness of life from our God of life. When St. Paul challenged death--"Where is your sting?"--he did not close his eyes to the evils and losses which all the forms of dying represent. He trumpeted the Easter message that the Christ-redemption event changes not only our attitude but also our ability to value the whole of our life--its successes and accomplishments, its apparent waste matter of sin and failure. As Gospel models, Mary Magdalene (who may have confused sex and love) and Peter (who has grabbed for success and lied for survival) are the first among the evangelizers of this new creation event. Pope John Paul's appeal for a new evangelization takes form in us by our renewed attempt to integrate the active and passive aspects of our daily life. By living faith-lives as "other Christs" we make a dif-ference in what we do and in what we suffer. The call to a new evan-gelization invites us to explore further the struggles of justice and poverty and human living both at our doorstep and in our larger world. Making a difference often seems like planting seeds and hav-ing to wait for things to happen. Easter faith stirs us up in hope, moves us out in action, and integrates us in a compassionate patience. This Easter may the risen Lord embrace us anew with the grace of his passion for life. David L. Fleming sJ March-April 1992 165 WALTER J. BURGHARDT The Spiritual Exercises as a Foundation for Educational Ministry ministry and ministries To speak of basing an educational ministry on the Spiritual Exercises is something of a paradox, an apparent contra-diction. Two things simply do not seem to fit. Are not the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius Loyola an experience of the spirit, a thirty-day or eight-day retreat centered on the movement of the Christian soul to heaven, conducted in solitude, far from hustle and bustle, and preferably in silence? And is not a university or college a citadel of the intellect, where the stress is on knowledge, on books, where minds meet in constant conflict, where ideas clash, where noise is in the air, where silence is reserved for a corner of the library? I am not saying that the Spiritual Exercises and the groves of academe are interchangeable terms, that a col-lege or university is a retreat experience, that the class-room is a chapel, that learning is worship. My thesis is that the Spiritual Exercises can be, indeed should be, an exciting foundation for education Jesuit-style. More specif-ically, I see the Spiritual Exercises as a process of conver-sion which in an educational institution aims at altering in students, faculty, and staff (1) their world of learning, the Walter J. Burghardt SJ is director of the Woodstock Theo-logical Center Project Preaching the ffust Word. This article retains the flavor of its original oral presentation made at Creighton University in Omaha, Nebraska, in April 1991. Father Burghardt's address is Manresa-on-Severn; P.O. Box 9; Annapolis, Maryland 21404. 166 Review for Religious life of the mind; (2) their world of loving, their human and reli-gious imagination and affection; (3) their world of living, the life of social realities. Let me explain what I mean in each of these three cases. First, the Spiritual Exercises should alter your world of learn-ing, that is, the life of your mind. You see, basic to the life of the mind, at the root of a university's existence, is a momentous mono-syllable: Why? Why study art and the arts, physical science or political science, law or business or medicine? Now Ignatius does not ask that question in those terms. But "spiritual exercises" he defines as "every way of preparing and disposing" ourselves to remove "all disordered attachments and, after their removal, of seeking and finding God's will in the way we direct our lives.''1 And there definitely are disordered approaches to the life of the mind, strange reasons why some go to college or university or professional school. I am not thinking of the more superficial reasons--college as a four-year Hammer dance2 interrupted by class. I am thinking of an approach to business education guided by a powerful principle: what makes the world go round is economics, and what makes the economy work is greed, the almighty dollar. I am thinking of gifted music and drama students whose aim is fame, the lust for applause, even the TV laugh machine. I am thinking of political-science students whose primary purpose is political power, the thrill in manipulating other men and women. A heart-rending example in this area is Lee Atwater, the manager of George Bush's 1988 presidential campaign who almost single-handedly turned the tide against Dukakis. Not long before his death at forty from a brain tumor on 29 March, this gifted man~ with an incredible instinct for the jugular made this poignant confession: The '80s were about acquiring--acquiring wealth, power, prestige. I know, I acquired more wealth, power and pres-tige than most. But you can acquire all you want and still feel empty. It took a deadly illness to put me eye to eye with that truth, but it is a truth that the country, caught up in its ruthless ambitions and moral decay, can learn on my dime.3 Not that money, fame, power are immoral in themselves; they are not. Without money a university would have little to offer to anyone. Fame makes it easier for the deprived to know you, to beg for the crumbs that fall from your table. Political power makes March-April 1992 167 Burghardt ¯ The Exercises for Educational Ministry possible not only a Persian Gulf war but legislated housing for the poor. Ignatius forces on the retreatant that insistent mono-syllable: Why? Even more radically, the Spiritual Exercises can keep you from segregating learning into a pigeonhole of its own, divorced from the thrust of the spirit towards God. I do not mean that all of learning becomes a religious enterprise. Vatican II made that quite clear. With Vatican I, it distinguished "'two orders of knowl-edge' which are distinct," declared that "the Church does not indeed forbid that 'when the human arts and sciences are practiced they use their own principles and their proper method, each in its own domain.'" In consequence, the council "affirms the legiti-mate autonomy of human culture and especially of the sciences.''4 My point is, the life of the mind is perilously impoverished if knowledge does not lead to wonder. Not sheer questioning: I wonder if Israel should continue populating the West Bank. In the grasp of wonder I marvel: I am surprised, amazed, delighted, enraptured. It is MaW pregnant by God's Spirit: "My spirit finds delight in God my Savior" (Lk 1:47). It is Magdalen about to touch her risen Jesus: "Master!" (Jn 20:16). It is doubting Thomas discovering his God in the wounds of Jesus. It is Michelangelo striking his sculptured Moses: "Speak!" It is Alexander Fleming fascinated by the very first antibiotic, America thrilling to the first footsteps on the moon. It is Mother Teresa cradling a naked retarded child in the rubble of West Beirut, a crippled old man in the excrement of Calcutta. It is the wonder of a first kiss. Such, sooner or later, should be your reaction to the life of learning, such the wonder that should permeate the life of your mind. Not a new methodology for biology or psychology; simply awe in the presence of a fascinating four-letter reality: life. The multifaceted, myriad miracle of life. Amazement at what breadths and depths there are to being alive--from the architectural artistry of the ant and the grace of a loping panther, through the blind-ing speed of a white marlin and the majestic flight of the bald eagle, to the beating heart of a unique fetus, the inspired imagery of Shakespeare, the fantastic forty-eight measures of Tchaikovsky's "Nutcracker," the transforming insight of Einstein. With such wonder you may hope to touch the pinnacle of knowledge. For, as philosopher Jacques Maritain discovered, the height of human knowing is not conceptual; it is experiential. Man or woman feels God. Yes, feels" God. 168 Review for Religious Am I ignoring Ignatius? Have I been distracted from his Spiritual Exercises? Quite the contrary. The Spiritual Exercises are an adventure in experience, in wonder. With all the power of your mental faculties, you enter the kingdom of contemplation--what contemplative William McNamara called % long loving look at the real." The real: all there is--the things of God, the people of God, God's very self. And the high purpose of all this? To be struck, surprised, stunned by the wonder of it all--from the ecstasy of Eden unspoiled, through sin's rape of the earth and earth's dwellers, to the unique love of God-in-our-flesh pinned to a cross, and our rebirth in his rising from the rock. The net effect? Ignatius's final contemplation, the acme of the Exercises: Learning to Love Like God. Here you touch the heart of Ignatius, his awareness of the ceaseless presence of Christ to our earth--now. "Consider," he counsels, "how [Christ] labors for me in all creatures.''s Not a vague, ultrapious generality. Christ behaves like a worker, a laborer, in each and every creature of his creation. How is it that the Rockies still rise in breathtaking splendor, Venus shines brighter than any star, and oil gushes from the fields of Nebraska? Because a risen Christ gives them being. Not once for all; continuously, day after day. How is it that forsythia can herald the approach of spring, corn turn into hot buttered popcorn for your theater, giant red-woods stalk the California sky? Because an imaginative Christ gives them life. How is it that your Irish setter can smell the game beyond your ken, gulls scavenge your ocean, the shad ascend the waters? Because a sensitive Christ gives them senses. How is it that you, this wondrous wedding of molecules and spirit, can shape an idea or send a skyscraper soaring, unveil mystery in a microscope or telescope, join with another--man or woman or God--in deathless oneness? Because Christ labors in you to give you intelligence and love--intelligence that mimics the mind of God, love that stems from a cross on the outskirts of Jerusalem. A thing of beauty and a joy for ever, this life of the mind. But only if the arts and sciences, if professions like law and medicine and business, that legitimately engross you open you to the still richer reality that surrounds you, invades you, transcends you, gives fresh life to the mind you treasure so rightly, the mind you The life of the mind is perilously impoverished if knowledge does not lead to wonder. March-April 1992 169 Burghardt ¯ The Exercises for Educational Ministry accept so lightly. Ignatius's Spiritual Exercises are not the only "way to go." But for openers in two senses--a beginning and an opening--as a basis, a foundation, for the life of the mind, the Spiritual Exercises are an experience difficult to exceed. Second, the Spiritual Exercises should alter your world of loving, that is, your human and religious imagination and affec-tion. Basic to this affirmation is a realization: The life of the human spirit is not circumscribed by reason, by your ability to grasp ideas, to draw conclusions from facts and premises. If your intellectual existence is simply a model of Cartesian clarity, you are limping along on one leg. What is the lamentable lacuna? Imagination. What is this strange creature we call imagination?6 To begin with, what is imagination not? It is not the same thing as fantasy. Fantasy has come to mean the grotesque, the bizarre. That is fan-tastic which is unreal, irrational, wild, unrestrained. We speak of "pure fantasy": It has no connection with reality. It is imagination run wild, on the loose, unbridled, uncontained.7 What is it, then? Imagination is the capacity we have "to make the material an image of the immaterial or spiritual.''8 It is a cre-ative power. You find it in Rembrandt's self-portraits, in Beethoven's Fifth Symphony, in the odor of a new rose or the flavor of an old wine. You find it in dramatists like Aeschylus and Shakespeare, in poets from Sappho to Gerard Manley Hopkins, in storytellers like C.S. Lewis and Stephen King. Now, when I say "capacity," I do not mean a "faculty" like intellect or will. I mean rather a posture of my whole person towards my experience.9 It is a way of seeing. It is, as with Castaneda, looking for the holes in the world or listening to the space between sounds. It is a breaking through the obvious, the surface, the superficial, to the reality beneath and beyond. It is the world of wonder and intuition, of amazement and delight, of fes-tivity and play. How does imagination come to expression? Let me focus on specifically religious imagination. I sketch five ways. 1. A vision. I mean "the emergence either in dreams, trance, or ecstasy, of a pattern of images, words, or dreamlike dramas which are experienced then, and upon later reflection, as having revelatory significance." 10 Examples? Isaiah's vision of the Lord in the temple (Is 6); Moses and Elijah appearing to Jesus and the disciples on the Mount of Transfiguration (Mt 17:1-9); Joan of Arc's "voices"; St. Margaret Mary's vision of the Sacred Heart. 170 Review for Religious 2. Ritual. The form of ritual is action--public, dramatic, pat-terned. A group enacts the presence of the sacred and partici-pates in that presence, usually through some combination of dance, chant, sacrifice, or sacrament.11 3. Story. I mean a narrative, a constellation of images, that recounts incidents or events. As Sallie TeSelle put it, "We all love a good story because of the basic nar-rative quality of human experience: in a sense any story is about ourselves, and a good story is good precisely because somehow it rings true to human life . We recognize our pilgrimage from here to there in a good story.''12 For the religious imagina-tion, three types of stories are particularly impor-tant: parable, allegory, and myth; the parables of Jesus, Lewis's "Chronicles of Narnia," and the Creation myth.13 4. The fine arts. I mean painting and poetry, sculpture and architecture, music, dancing, and dra-matic art. I mean da Vinci and John Donne, the "PietY" and Chartres, Beethoven's "Missa Solemnis," David whirling and skipping before the Ark of the Covenant, the mystery dramas of the Middle Ages. I mean films. 5. Symbol. What symbol means is not easy to say, for even within theology it does not have a univocal sense. Let me define it, with Avery Dulles, as "an externally perceived sign that works mysteriously on the human consciousness so as to suggest more than it can clearly describe or define." 14 Not every sign is a sym-bol. A mere indicator ("This way to the art museum") is not a symbol. "The symbol is a sign pregnant with a depth of meaning which is evoked rather than explicitly stated.''is It might be an artifact, a person, an event, words, a story--parable, allegory, myth. The importance of symbols, of imagination, in a university? I make three points. First, imagination is not at odds with knowl-edge; imagination is a form of cognition. In Whitehead's words, "Imagination is not to be divorced from the facts; it is a way of illuminating the facts.''16 True, it is not a process of reasoning; it is not abstract thought, conceptual analysis, rational demonstra-tion, syllogistic proof. Notre Dame of Paris is not a thesis in the-ology; Lewis's famous trilogy does not demonstrate the origin of evil; Hopkins is not analyzing God's image in us when he sings Imagination is not at odds with knowledge; imagination is a form of cognition. Marcb-April 1992 171 Burghardt ¯ The Exercises for Educational Ministry that "Christ plays in ten thousand places, / Lovely in limbs, and lovely in eyes not his / To the Father through the features of men's faces.''17 And still, imaging and imagining is a work of our intellectual nature; through it our spirit reaches the true, the beautiful, and the good. Second, imagination does not so much teach as evoke; it calls something forth from you. And so it is often ambiguous; the image can be understood in different ways. Do you remember the reporters who asked Martha Graham, "Miss Graham, what does your dance mean?" She replied: "Darlings, if I could tell you, I would not have danced it!" Something is lost when we move from imagining to thinking, from art to conceptual clarity. Not that imagination is arbitrary, that "Swan Lake" or the Infancy Narrative or "Hamlet" or the Transfiguration is whatever anyone wants to make of it, my gut feeling. Hostile to a valid imagina-tion is "the cult of imagination for itself alone; vision, phantasy, ecstasy for their own sakes; creativity, spontaneity on their own, without roots, without tradition, without discipline.''1~ Amos Wilder was right: "Inebriation is no substitute for paideia.''19 And still it is true, the image is more open-ended than the con-cept, less confining, less imprisoning. The image evokes our own imagining. Third, religion itself is a system of symbols. As sociologist Andrew Greeley saw, "religion was symbol and story long before it became theology and philosophy and., the poetry of religion was not inferior to its prose but rather anterior to it and, in terms of the whole human person, in some ways superior to it.''2° Biblical revelation is highly symbolic. Skim the Hebrew Scriptures: a burning bush, the miracles of the Exodus, the theo-phanies of Sinai, the "still small voice" heard by Elijah, the visions of the prophets and seers. Scan the New Testament: the circum-stances surrounding Jesus' conception and birth, the descent of the Spirit in the form of a dove, the transfiguration, Calvary, the res-urrection. Take key themes like the kingdom of God, its expres-sion in Jesus' proverbial sayings, in the Lord's Prayer, in the Gospel parables. The kingdom is not a clear concept with a uni-vocal significance. It is a symbol that "can represent or evoke a whole range or series of conceptions or ideas.''21 Turn from Scripture to the Catholic-Protestant problematic. Greeley's research persuades him that "the fundamental differ-ences between Catholicism and Protestantism are not doctrinal or 172 Review for Religious ethical" but "differing sets of symbols.''22 Take the central symbol: God.23 The classical literature of the Catholic tradition assumes a God who is present in the world, disclosing Himself in and through creation. The world and all its events, objects, and people tend to be somewhat like God. The Protestant classics, on the other hand, assume a God who is radically absent from the world and who discloses Herself only on rare occasions (especially in Jesus Christ and Him cruci-fied). The world and all its events, objects, and people tend to be radically different from God.24 Even more concretely, Greeley insists, their different images of God account for different religious behavior between Catholics and Protestants. In the Protestant imagination God is perceived as distant (father, judge, king, master); in the Catholic imagination God is perceived as present (mother, lover, friend, spouse).2s Another crucial example: two approaches to human society shaped by different imaginative pictures. The Catholic tends to see society as a "sacrament" of God, a set of ordered relationships, governed by both justice and love, that reveal, however imperfectly, the presence of God. Society is "natural" and "good," therefore, for humans and their natural response to God is social. The Protestant, on the other hand, tends to see human society as "God-for-saken" and therefore unnatural and oppressive. The indi-vidual stands over against society and not integrated into it. The human becomes fully human only when he is able to break away from social oppression and relate to the absent God as a completely free individual.26 A final example from Greeley's sociological research: The image that most sharply distinguishes the Catholic tradition from other Christian traditions is Mary the mother of Jesus. No one else has Madonna statues in church. MaW is essen-tial to Catholicism, not perhaps on the level of doctrine but surely on the level of imagination, because she more than any other image blatantly confirms the sacramental instinct: the whole of creation and all its processes, especially its lifegiving and life-nurturing processes, reveal the lurking and passionate love of God.27 Once again, have I been distracted from Ignatius and his Spiritual Exercises? Not really. The Exercises, for all their appeal to the Christian intelligence, are not a head trip. They are first and foremost an experience. An experience of Catholic symbols: Adam and Eve and Eden, angels and Satan, hellfire, a virgin and a crib, March-April 1992 173 Burghardt ¯ The Exercises for Educational Ministry The events of Jesus" earthly existence must be seen as a 'today." Egypt and Jerusalem, the transfiguration, bread and wine, blood and water from the side of Christ, nail marks in risen hands, an ascension into heaven. But the experience is not cold reason. Take the experience of sin's devastating impact on angels and humans, sin's ravishing of God's good earth. When you go through the Spiritual Exercises, you do not simply define sin, recall a traditional definition: any thought, word, or action against God's law. Your senses get into the act: you smell sin's stench. Even more importantly, you see sin's cost, image it, weep over it; for sin's cost is a cross, the pierced hands of a God-man. The God-man. The Exercises are a constant contemplation--contemplation of Christ. Never abstract theology, though theology informs it all. In Bethlehem's cave you are a servant; you not only listen to Mary and Joseph, you "smell the infinite flagrance and taste the infinite sweetness of the divinity.''28 You flee with that unique family into Egypt, feel what it means to be a refugee in the Middle East. In a decisive meditation you not only contrast "two standards," two scenarios for orienting your life. The standards take flesh in two persons: in a Satan who inspires "horror and terror," who makes you lust for riches, for honor, for pride; and in a living Christ who attracts you to poverty, insults, and humil-ity.: 9 It is not only Jesus who is tempted in the wilderness; you wrestle with your personal devils, sweat through the temptations that jolted Jesus: Use your powers, your gifts, your possessions just for your own fantastic self, for the sweet smell of success. Like the sinful woman, you wash our Lord's feet with your tears, feel your sins forgiven because you too have "loved much" (Lk 7:47). And so into Christ's passion, which you no longer study with scholarly detachment, comparing different traditions, reconcil-ing inconsistencies. Ignatius wants you to feel: grief and shame indeed, "because the Lord is going to his suffering for [your] sins,''3° but even, if possible, the kiss that betrayed him, the nails that held him fast. And finally, joy in the risen Christ. Not sim-ply a sense of relief; rather your whole being bursting with new life, his life, as you share his rising with his Mother, try to touch him with Magdalen, munch seafood with him and the Eleven. This is not simply your own picture show, on a level with 174 Review for Religious Kevin Costner "Dancing with !/Volves.''31 Ignatius playing with your capacity to imagine is attempting something terribly signif-icant psychologically and spiritually. This "application of the senses" goes back to a medieval tradition that reached Ignatius through a book he read while convalescing from cannon wounds back at Loyola.32 The unknown Franciscan author had written: If you wish to draw profit from these meditations., make everything that the Lord Jesus said and did present to your-self, just as though you were hearing it with your ears and seeing it with your eyes . And even when it is related in the past tense you should contemplate it all as though pres-ent today. VChy is this highly significant for an intelligent spirituality? Because you are no longer looking at the life of Christ sheerly as history, something that took place in the past. The events of Jesus' earthly existence must be seen as a "today," the historical hap-penings drawn into your own world here and now. That is how you achieve not abstract knowledge but what the medievals called "familiarity with Christ," an understanding that takes hold not only of discursive reasoning but of the whole person. Imagination leads to love--a direct experience of love. Ignatius films in living color what Aquinas phrased in attractive abstraction: There are two ways of desiring knowledge. One way is to desire it as a perfection of one's self; and that is the way philosophers desire it. The other way is to desire it not [merely] as a perfection of one's self but because through this knowledge the one we love becomes present to us; and that is the way saints desire it.34 Third, the Spiritual Exercises should alter your world of liv-ing, that is, the life of social realities. Here three facets call for clarification: social realities, the Exercises, and you. What do I mean by social realities? I mean the life of a soci-ety, the life that moves beyond the individual in isolation to com-munity, people interacting, impacting one on another, human persons depending on one another. How do the Spiritual Exercises touch social realities? After all, did not Ignatius himself describe the Exercises as "every way of preparing and disposing" ourselves to remove "all disordered attachments and, after their removal, of seeking and finding God's will in the way we direct our lives"?3s This sounds rather indi-vidualistic, does it not? Or, at best, quite vague. March-April 1992 175 Burghardt ¯ The Exercises for Educational Ministry I am aware that in 1975 the 32nd General Congregation of Jesuits declared, "The mission of the Society of Jesus today is the service of faith, of which the promotion of justice is an absolute requirement.''36 And it went on to assert a bit later: Every sector of our educational works should be subjected to constant review, so that they will not only continue to form young people and adults able and willing to build a more just social order, but do so ever more effectively. Especially should we help form our Christian students as "men [and women]-for-others" in a mature faith and in per-sonal attachment to Jesus Christ, persons whose lively faith impels them to seek and find Christ in the service of their fellow men [and women]. Thus we shall contribute to form-ing persons who will themselves multiply the work of world-wide education.-~7 But our specific question remains: Granted that our colleges should prepare women and men to construct a more just social order, how do the Spiritual Exercises lay a foundation for the social-justice component of Jesuit education? Almost a half century ago, a young Jesuit who had not yet taken his final vows in the Society was asked by his provincial to direct the annual eight-day retreat for the Jesuit theology stu-dents at Alma in California. In the course of the retreat, director Father George H. Dunne reflected on a number of social issues. Dealing with the Sermon on the Mount, for example, and the two great commandments, he "talked about poverty, peace, war, not in the abstract but in the concrete." He "talked about anti- Semitism, Hitler's holocaust, racial segregation, the rat-infested tenements in New York, the exploitation of migrant farm work-ers, the Spanish Civil War, the anguish of the world's poor . -38 Not long after, he received a letter from the representative of the Jesuit superior general for the American provinces during World War II. Father Zacheus J. Maher charged Father Dunne with substituting for the Spiritual Exercises a series of "brilliant talks on social subjects." "Such subjects," he declared, "have no place in the Spiritual Exercises.''> Let us make an admission: Our neighbor, the wider society, is not explicit in the text of the Exercises.4° Not surprising; for the Exercises "are addressed to individuals, and they seek to enable a person to have the interior freedom to serve God . -41 But if you delve more deeply, you discover how profoundly social, societal, the Exercises are. 176 Review for Religious You see, the Ignatian meditations point you ceaselessly to Christ, to the Christ of the Gospels, in that way to absorb the mind of Christ. And so you focus on the programmatic scene in Nazareth's synagogue, where Jesus makes his own the announce-ment in Isaiah: "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, for he has anointed me. He has sent me to preach good news to the poor, to proclaim release for pris-oners and sight for the blind, to set at liberty those who are oppressed, and to proclaim the Lord's year of favor" (Lk 4:1 8-1 9).42 Through the Exercises that program ceases to be pecu-liarly Jesus'; it becomes your own. What Second Isaiah announced to the people of his day Jesus announces to the poor and impris-oned, the blind and deprived of his day. And this is what Christians in the mold of Ignatius announce to the downtrodden of their day. With Ignatius in the final Contemplation for Learning to Love Like God, you ponder profoundly how Christ "labors for [you] in all creatures on the face of the earth, that is, he behaves like one who labors. In the heav-ens, the elements, the plants, the fruits, the cattle, [man and woman], he gives being, conserves them in existence, confers life and sensation, and so on.''43 And you ask to labor with Christ as he ceaselessly creates, recreates, redeems a fallen world. Last Easter a Catholic professor of history ended his regular column in a diocesan newspaper with two puzzling sentences: "When Jesus rose from the dead, he did not go about lecturing on the social problems of his day. Instead he manifested himself in glory to his disciples in a manner that empowered them to go forth as his courageous emissaries.''44 But neither did the risen Jesus go about celebrating the Eucharist and fingering his rosary. And what did he empower them to go forth to do? To baptize indeed; to preach what he preached. But did he not preach loving your sisters and brothers as Jesus loved you? Does such loving have nothing to do with war on the womb or war in the Middle East? Nothing to do with inhuman poverty or child abuse? Nothing to do with racism or the rape of the earth? What you should experience through the Exercises is that by God's design and initiative human existence is fundamentally social, societal:4s we are "we" before we are "I" and "thou." This By God's design and initiative human existence is fundamentally social, societal. March-April 1992 177 Burghardt ¯ The Exercises for Educational Ministry is central in Christian revelation and of primary importance for our contemporary culture of individualism, where we think first of self and then how we can join with others in community--as though community did not precede the individual genetically, psychically, socially, and spiritually.46 Even Catholic social teach-ing frequently fails to position this fact front and center, because it lays down as primary in its social ethics the "dignity of the human person, who is made to the image of God." From there the teaching argues to the God-invested rights of the individual which other individuals and institutions must respect. This misses the point of the Genesis story (on which it is often based) that the "Adam" who is given such dignity is not an individual but "the hmnan," our whole race in personification.47 How does all this touch us? Very simply, a university or col-lege ought to be not only the seedbed of learning and imagination; it should be the boot camp of our societal existence. The Jesuit educational ideal is not the intellectual mole who lives almost entirely underground, surfaces occasionally for fresh air and a Big Mac, burrows back down to the earthworms before people can distract him. No. A college is where young men and women who may one day profoundly influence America's way of life touch, some for the first time, the ruptures that sever us from our earth, from our sisters and brothers, from our very selves. Not simply in an antiseptic classroom, for all its high importance for under-standing. Even more importantly, experience of rupture: experi-ence not only of ecology but of an earth irreparably ravaged, not only abstract poverty but the stomach-bloated poor, not only the words "child abuse" but the vacant stare of the child abused, not only a book on racism but the hopelessness or hatred in human hearts. To yearn for such experience, I know no better introduc-tion than experiencing the Christ of the Spiritual Exercises, the conversion consequent on seeing Christ more clearly, loving him more dearly. Can you get a 4.0, be learned, a scholar, without such a con-version? Undoubtedly. Can you make megabucks in business or law, in medicine or government without such a conversion? Undoubtedly. Can you marry well, raise two and a half children, treat them to an Ivy school education without such a conversion? Undoubtedly. Can you be deliriously happy without such a con-version? Undoubtedly. Can you live an integrated human and Christian existence without such a conversion? I doubt it. 178 Review for Religious Notes i Spiritual Exercises 1; translation partially mine. 2 Reference to a type of dancing currently in high favor with the young and involving amazing hyperactivity. 3 Thomas B. Edsall, "GOP Battler Lee Atwater Dies at 40," Washington Post, 30 March 1991, 1 and 7. 4 Second Vatican Council, Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World, no. 59. s Spiritual Exercises 236. For Christ as the "creator and Lord" of this contemplation, see Hugo Rahner SJ, Ignatius the Theologian (New York: Herder and Herder, 1968 / San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 1991), p. 134. 6 Here I am drawing largely, but not entirely, on material in nay book Preaching: The Art and the Craft (New York/Mahwah: Paulist, 1987), pp. 19-25. 7 I am aware that fantasy does not have to mean the bizarre; I am speaking of a com~non current usage. The development was concisely expressed in l/Vebster's New International Dictionary of the English Language (2nd ed. unabridged; Springfield, Mass.: Merriam, 1958), p. 918: "From the conception of fantasy as the faculty of mentally reproducing sensible objects, the meaning appears to have developed into: first, false or delu-sive mental creation; and second, any senselike representation in the mind, equivalent to the less strict use of imagination and fancy. Later fan-tasy acquired, also, a somewhat distinctive usage, taking over the sense of whimsical, grotesque, or bizarre image making. This latter sense, however, did not attach itself to the variant phantasy, which is used for visionary or phantasmic imagination." See also Urban T. Hohnes III, Ministry and Imagination (New York: Seabury, 1976), pp. 100-103. ~ Holmes, ibid, pp. 97-98. Here Holmes is a&nittedly borrowing from Owen Barfield, Saving the Appearances: A Study in Idolatry (New York: Harcourt, Brace & World, n.d.). 9 See Holmes, ibid, p. 88. 10 Theodore W. Jennings Jr., Introduction to Theology: An Invitation to Reflection upon the Christian Mythos (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1976), p. 49. 1~ See ibid, p. 52. 12 Sallie M. TeSelle, cited by Holmes, Ministry and Imagination, p. 166, from the Journal of the American Academy of Religion 42 (1974): 635. ~3 Lest the reader be unduly disturbed, myth is not opposed to fact or to fancy. Its raw material tnay he fact or it may be fancy; in either case it intends "to narrate the fundamental structure of human being in the world. By the concreteness of its imagery, the universality of its intention, its narrative or stoW form, the myth evokes the identification and par-ticipation of those for whom it functions as revelatory" (Jennings, Introduction to Theology, pp. 51-52). ~4 Avery Dulles SJ, "The Symbolic Structure of Revelation," March-April 1992 179 Burghardt ¯ The Exercises for Educational Ministry Theological Studies 41 (1980): 55-56. Dulles studies the five dominant approaches to revelation: the propositional, historical, mystical, dialecti-cal, and symbolic--with greatest stress on the symbolic. He asks how in each theory revelation is mediated and what kind of truth it has. He con-cludes that in Christ the five aspects coalesce in a kind of unity, but insists that the first four are reconciled and held in unity through the symbolic facet. ~s Ibid, p. 56. 16 A. N. Whitehead, The Aims of Education and Other Essays (New York: Macmillan, 1929), p. 139. 17 Gerard Manley Hopkins, "As kingfishers catch fire. ," Poem 57 in W. H. Gardner and N.H. Mackenzie, eds., The Poems of Gerard Manley Hopkins (London: Oxford University, 1970), p. 90. ~ Amos Niven Wilder, Theopoetic: Theology and the Religious Imagination (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1976), p. 57. ~') Ibid, p. 67. ~,0 Andrew M. Greeley, The Catholic Myth: The Behavior and Beliefs of American Catholics (New York: Scribner's, 1990), p. 37. 21 Norman Perrin, Jesus and the Language of the Kingdom (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1976), p. 33. ~2 Greeley, The Catholic ~Vlyth, p. 44. 23 Here Greeley (p. 45) admits his dependence on David Tracy's The Analogical Imagination (New York: Crossroad, 1981). 24 Greeley, The C)ttholic Myth, p. 45. ~5 See ibid, p. 55. 26 Ibid, p. 45. Hcre, too, Greeley is indebted to David Tracy. Note Greeley's warning to his readers that the word "tend" is "used advisedly. Zero-sum relationships do not exist in the world of the preconscious" (ibid). -,7 Ibid, p. 253. See p. 254: "I argue., that the obvious functional role of Mary the mother of Jesus in the Catholic tradition is to reflect the mother love of God." For detailed presentation of the origins and func-tion of the Mary symbol, see Greeley's The Mary Myth (New York: Seabury, 1977). 2~ Spiritual Exercises 124; text from Louis J. Puhl sJ, The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius (Chicago: Loyola University, 195 I), p. 55. 29 Spiritual Exercises 140, 146 (Puhl, pp. 60, 62). 30 Spiritual Exercises 193 (Puhl, p. 81). 31 A current fihn that made off with a number of Academy awards. 3~ The book was Meditationes vitae Christi, long attributed to St. Bonaventure but actually composed by an unknown Franciscan of the fourteenth century; see Rahner, Ignatius the Theologian (n. 5 above), pp. 192-193. Quoted from Rahner, ibid, p. 193. 180 Review for Religious 34 1 have not been able as yet to document this text. 3s Spiritual Exercises 1 ; translation partially mine. 36 Documents of the Thirty-second General Congregatio,z of the Society of Jesus, 2 December 1974--7 March 1975 I, 4 (Washington, D.C.: Jesuit Conference, [1975]), p. 17. 37 Ibid, I, 4, pp. 35-36. 38 King's Pawn: The Memoirs of George H. Dunue, s.J. (Chicago: Loyola University, 1990), p. 70. 39 Ibid, pp. 69, 70. q0 See useful material in Dean Brackley SJ, "Downward Mobility: Social Implications of St. Ignatius's Two Standards," Studies in the Spirituality of Jesuits 20, no. 4 (January 1988): 53; also in Thomas E. Clark SJ, "Ignatian Spirituality and Societal Consciousness," ibid, 7, no. 4 (September 1975): 127-150. 4~ Brackley, "Downward Mobility," p. 12. 42 On this episode see Joseph A. Fitzmyer SJ, The Gospel according to Luke (I-IX) (Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1981), p. 529: "Luke had deliberately put this story [4:16-30] at the beginning of the public min-istry to encapsulate the entire ministry of Jesus and the reaction to it." 43 Spiritual Exercises 236; translation partially mine. 44james Hitchcock in St. Louis Review, 29 March 1991, p. 11. 4s See Clarke (n. 40 above), pp. 128-129, for the advantages of the adjective "societal" over "social" in reference to apostolate and ministry. "Social" efforts "seek immediately and personally to alleviate the misery of those individuals who are deprived." "Societal" activity "concerns itself immediately with the healing and transformation of those human struc-tures, institutions, processes, and environments which draw persons into misery or make it difficult for them to emerge from it." 46 See Matthew Lamb, "The Social and Political Dimensions of Lonergan's Theology," in Vernon Gregson, ed., The Desires of the Human Heart (New York/Mahwah: Paulist, 1988), p. 270. 471 owe this paragraph to notes of James L. Connor sJ, director of the Woodstock Theological Center, Washington, D.C., prepared for the inau-gural retreat of my project Preaching the Just Word, an effort to move the preaching of social-justice issues more effectively into the Catholic pul-pits of the United States. March-April 1992 181 MELANNIE SVOBODA Going the Distance, Sustaining the Gift an one of her newspaper columns, Ellen Goodman describes pheno~nenon called "compassion fatigue." This occurs when people who are normally sensitive and generous get "tired of caring." Most Americans, Goodman maintains, are very caring in emergencies. She writes: "We are great at performing the one-night stands for causes. Christmas dinner for the poor, collec-tions for victims of fire or flood or famine." But if the emergency situation becomes chronic, many of us find it difficult to sustain our initial level of concern. When compassion fatigue sets in, says Goodman, "A gift can begin to feel like an obligation, generosity can turn into resentment, and sympathy can turn hard." I think Goodman's article has definite implications for those of us involved in ministry in the church. Let us face it: most of us are in ministry not for a one-night stand. We are in it for years, maybe even for life. The problems we deal with every day--igno-rance, poverty, injustice, sickness, violence--will not go away overnight--or even in a matter of a few years. So the question we have to ask ourselves is: How do we keep our compassion alive over the long haul? How do we fan the flame of enthusiasm for a lifetime of service in the church? Before I suggest some ways of doing this, I would like to say a few words about why. For everything I say is based on the premise Melannie Svoboda SND, with whom our readers are well acquainted, resides at Notre Dame Academy; Route One, Box 197; Middleburg, Virginia 22117. 182 Review for Religious that coinpassion and enthusiasm are essential for ministry in the church. Without them, ministry is at best a mere show and at worst a perversion of the very Gospel we claim to proclaim. To illustrate this fact, I tried to come up with an image of ministry as compassionate, generous, and enthusiastic--and not something performed out of a sense of obligation and even with resentment. The image I came up with may appear an unlikely one: feeding chickens! But let me explain. Feeding Chickens I was born and raised on a small goose farm in Willoughby Hills, Ohio. That rural "initial formation" continues to influence my outlook on life. On our farm we had hundreds of white Emden geese. It was my father and brothers who had the job of feeding them. But we also had a couple dozen chickens, and the task of feeding them usually fell to my mother, my sister, or me. Now what is the connection between feeding chickens and ministering in today's church? Simple. The way I see it, there are three essential elements to proper chicken feeding (and, I might add, to proper church ministry). First, there is the feed itself--the corn, the mash, whatever. The feed is the gift we bring to the chickens. More than that, it is their source of nourishment, of life itself. Without too much of a stretch of the imagination, we can say that the chicken feed is the "good news" we bring each day to our chickens. The second element of chicken feeding involves calling the chickens. We have to get their attention, alert them to the feed we have for them. But a good chicken feeder goes beyond merely calling the chickens. He or she establishes a relationship with them. The feeder talks to the chickens, even thanking them for the fine eggs they have been laying. For a good chicken feeder (like a good church minister) is always aware of being a receiver as well as a giver. The third element of chicken feeding (and of ministry) is the actual broadcasting of the feed. How does an experienced chicken feeder broadcast the feed? Eagerly, generously, unsparingly. Now that is an image of ministry at its best, ministry with compassion and enthusiasm. Ministry at its worst would be the person who sets out to feed the chickens grumbling and mum-bling the whole way to the chicken coop. "I have got to feed those March-April 1992 183 Svoboda ¯ Going the Distance stupid chickens--again. I just fed them yesterday. They're never satisfied. All they do is eat, eat, eat. What good are they, any-way?" Such a feeder might not even call the chickens, thinking: "If I don't call them, maybe they won't come, and then I won't have to feed them." But, of course, the chickens do come, called or uncalled. And how does this kind of feeder broadcast the feed? Perhaps sparingly: "A kernel for you, a kernel for you . " Or angrily, throwing handfuls of feed down on the ground in dis-gust. Or hastily, dumping the whole pail of feed in one spot, just to get the job over with. That is an image of ministry when compassion fatigue has set in. I maintain that ministering in such a way is a contradiction of the Gospel. For we are called to proclaim the good news, not the "ho-hum" news, not the "halfway decent" news. We are called to love the people to whom we minister, not "put up with" them or view them as a nuisance. If we can no longer minister with gen-uine compassion or with vibrant enthusiasm, then maybe we should not be ministering. Years ago I had a Scripture teacher who made this point very clear. He said that on a given day we might wake up crabby, dis-couraged, depressed, mad at the whole world and every human being in it. On such a morning, maybe we should call the office, the school, or the parish and say in all honesty and humility, "I won't be in. I cannot in conscience represent the Gospel today." The suggestion, though perhaps a little extreme, does make a salient point: an anti-sign to the Gospel is probably worse than no sign at all. In other words, if our words, attitude, and whole bear-ing contradict the Good News we represent, then maybe we should not be representing it. Compassion and enthusiasm are requisites for effective min-istry. What, then, are some ways we can "go the distance" and "sustain our gift" of ministering? There are, no doubt, many ways. Here, I suggest four. Retaining the Big Picture The first way is to retain the big picture. Sometimes we lose enthusiasm for our ministry because our perspective becomes too narrow, our vision myopic. We lose sight of the big picture and get enmeshed in the near at hand, the petty, the nitty-gritty. In his book The Art of Choosing, Carlos ~Galles SJ reminds us how impor- 184 Review for Reli~4ous rant it is in life to have a sense of direction. He describes "a lovely little habit" that Ignatius had of stopping himself physically in the middle of a hall and asking himself, "Where am I going? And what for?" That habit was one way Ignatius had of connecting a seemingly insignificant action--going to the dining room to eat, heading for chapel to pray, or walking down the hall to a meet-ing-- with the bigger picture of ministering to God's people. The practice is a good one: regularly and consciously to make ourselves see our daily small actions as part of a greater whole. Recently I watched an artist painting a large mural of a sunrise. I noticed how frequently she stepped back from her work to gain a broader perspective. Then she would step forward, add a few more strokes with the paint roller, and step back again for another look. We must do the same thing in our ministry. Sometimes God seems to provide us with opportunities to do this: after a suc-cessful activity, after an apparent failure, at the time of a transfer or change in ministry, or during a serious illness. But we can also do this more regularly: during an annual retreat or a monthly day of recollection, in the morning before we begin our day, or in the evening before we crawl (or fall) into bed. The habit of ask-ing "Where am I going (or where have I been today) and what for?" will put us in touch with the real zvhat and v:hatfor of our ministry, thus enabling us to catch at least a glimpse of how our "daily chores" fit into the big picture of God's grand design. Seeing Babies A second way of retaining our compassion and enthusiasm I call: seeing babies and not diapers. A priest told me once that a young mother came to him very discouraged and worn out. "I'm sick and tired of changing diapers," she cried. The priest thought for a moment and then gently suggested, "Next time don't change the diaper. Change the baby." He was not being "celibately sar-castic." He was pointing out to her a lesson in perspective. We have to see the tasks we do in relation to the individual human beings for whom we do them. During a retreat another priest told this true stoW. A teenage boy was seriously injured in a car accident. When the parish priest was notified, he immediately went to the hospital to see the boy. When the priest walked in, the boy said, "Father, if you've come here for God's sake, then for God's sake, get out! But if you have March-April 1992 185 Svoboda ¯ Going the Distance come here because you think I am worth it, then please stay." The priest stayed. Maybe for too long we overemphasized "All for the greater honor and glory of God." That phrase certainly encapsulates a marvelous truth, but, like most truths, even that one needs another truth to balance it. In our ministry we do not bypass the human beings we serve. We do not overlook them. We do not use them to win God's favor. We must remember, we minister not to parishes, schools, hospitals, or dioceses. We minister to individ-ual human beings--to Vera, Frank, Carlos, Heather--and each of them is worth it. Getting Support A third way we sustain our gift of ministry is: We get sup-port. The venerable tradition of rugged individualism that helped found this great nation will not "cut it" in ministry. The truth is, we cannot "go it alone." Fortunately, our contemporary times, with its emphasis on support groups, reminds us of this truth. I came to appreciate the importance of support groups when I became a flee-lance writer. Before that I had been a full-time high school teacher for many years. As a teacher I had a built-in support group: the other teachers on the faculty. But when I seri-ously began to write as part of my ministry, I suddenly felt terri-bly isolated and alone. It became difficult for me to sit in front of my typewriter (and later tny computer) for two or three hours a day and write, for I would recall working for hours on a piece only to have it fizzle into nothingness. Or I would send out arti-cles and stories enthusiastically only to have them lost, mutilated, or rejected. Finally I knew I needed support in my ministry--and more than the occasional acceptance letter offers. So I attended some writers' conferences and hooked up with a few other people who write for publication. I rely on these friends for the under-standing and encouragement that only a fellow writer can give. In his book The Four Loves, C.S. Lewis writes beautifully about the origin of a friendship. He says a friendship originates when two people, often engaged in a common task, disclose some-thing of their inner selves to each other. They turn to each other in amazement and say, "You, too?" We in church ministry need to experience that "you-too?-ness" with others who are engaged in the same or similar ministry. 186 Review for Religious Being More than a Minister A fourth way we can go the distance in our ministry is to be more than a minister. We probably all agree that we are more than we do, and that we are far more valuable than what we pro-duce. But an effective minister does more than give intellectual assent to that truth. He or she makes decisions based on it. He or she takes time to be more than a minister, knowing how pathetic it is if a minister's identity is restricted to a particular job or title. There is always a danger of turning even church work into an end in itself. Workaholism is alive and well in most business organizations and (we have to admit with sadness) also in our church. The problem is, workaholism, though a real addiction, looks a lot like dedication. If a minister in the church is addicted to alcohol or gambling or food or sex, chances are someone (or someones) sooner or later will intervene to help that person. But if a minister is addicted to work~staying up all hours of the night, never taking time for a break or vacation, never socializing with people in a nonwork setting--we sometimes let him or her go on. Or even worse, we praise that person, thus encouraging the addiction. In this regard, we should recall that the primary biblical image of heaven is not an office, not a school, not a parish. It is a party, a banquet. If all we do our whole life is work, work, work, chances are we are going to feel extremely out of place in heaven. We will not know what to do, how to let go, how to have fun. No, we ministers should learn how to be party people while we are still here on earth--even as we minister. We work hard, yes, knowing full well that our ministry cannot always be restricted to certain office hours. But we also know how to get away, how to enjoy people and have fun. The Cross, the Cost So far we have looked at four ways to help prevent compas-sion fatigue in our ministry. But there is one more word I wish to say about compassion fatigue: sometimes it is the cross we bear, the cost we pay. Our fatigue is not always a sign that we are doing something wrong. Sometimes it is a sign that we are doing some-thing right. Our periodic fatigue and occasional discouragement put us in touch with our limits. And experiencing our limits is vital to effective ministry. Otherwise we run the risk of living in March-April 1992 187 Svoboda ¯ Going the Distance illusion, of beginning to think that we are responsible for the good we do or that we are the "good news" we proclaim--and not Jesus. Our ministry, in order to be authentic, must cost us some-thing-- in time, in energy, in love. I am reminded of that seem-ingly insignificant incident in the story of David at the end of the second book of Samuel. David, nearing the end of his life, goes to a man named Araunah and asks to buy his threshing place in order to build an altar there for the Lord. Araunah tells David, "Take it, Your Majesty." And he offers to give several oxen, too, all free of charge. But David refuses to accept Araunah's gifts. He insists on paying for everything, saying, "I will not offer the Lord my God sacrifices that have cost me nothing." At times we all get weary in our ministry. Our fatigue, loneliness, or discouragement are part of the cost of our love and service of others, part of the sacrifice we make regularly to God for the privilege of serving in the church. The Ministry of Jesus How does all of this relate to the person of Jesus? How did he remain loving and alive throughout his ministry? First of all, Jesus had the big picture. He possessed an amazingly expansive view of reality. He looked at a crude fisherman and saw a great leader. He observed the birds in the air and comprehended God's provident care. He beheld a sinful woman and recognized her as a woman who loved much. Jesus was always ready to adjust his perspective, to align it ever more closely with that of the Father. Nowhere is that more clearly seen than in Gethsemane. Jesus' initial reaction to his impending crucifixion was "Please let this pass!" But by let-ting go of his limited perspective, he could say, "Your will be done"; in other words, "I embrace your point of view." Jesus saw babies and not diapers. That is, he focused on indi-vidual people and not on the immense task he had to perform. The Gospels show Jesus speaking to large crowds, of course, but more often they show him relating to individuals: the twelve apos-tles, the man with a withered hand, a centurion, a demoniac, Simon's mother-in-law, a particular deaf man, a grieving widow, an epileptic, Jairus, Nicodemus, Mary and Martha, and so forth. The clear impression is that Jesus ministered to individuals. Even more important, individuals were his legacy. Jesus did not leave 188 Review for Relig4ous behind a spiral notebook on how to run a church. He did not write a curriculum nor even one encyclical. Instead, he left behind people--individuals--whose lives he touched and radically altered. Maybe we have to ask ourselves: How do we measure the effectiveness of our ministry? By the number of reports we fill out? By the neatness of our office? By the thick-ness of our files? Or by the individuals we have ministered to and with--and those we have allowed to minister to us? Jesus liked support groups. In fact, he even started one: the apostles. He also went outside that group for the kind of support that those dozen men could not give him. He seemed to need and appreciate the feminine encouragement of a Mary and a Martha, the unique devotion of a Mary Magdalene. The Gospels show Jesus enioying people. He was not always preaching or teaching or giving workshops. He was relaxing in the company of his friends and colleagues. Even in his darkest hour in Gethsemane, he did not "go it alone." He took part of his support group with him: Peter, James, and John. They disappointed him, yes, as people sometimes disappoint us, too. But Jesus understood their weakness and forgave them, knowing his ultimate support group was the Father and the Spirit. Lastly, Jesus was more than a minister, much more. Van Gogh supposedly said, "If you want to know God, love many things." One reason Jesus was so close to God was because he loved so many things, so many varied aspects of life. Jesus was perhaps a carpenter. What can we deduce from that simple fact? He had a "good eye," a highly developed aesthetic sense. He had a steady hand and knew and appreciated wood. Jesus was a storyteller, too, and a fine one. His "Good Samaritan" and "Prodigal Son" are masterpieces. 0nly a person in touch with the core of life could have spun such magnificent yarns. Jesus was well acquainted with other components of life: bread baking, barbecuing, wine making, and farming, to name but a few. He was keenly aware of the political situation of his times. He was in touch with the prejudices of his day as well as the hopes and dreams of his people. He was something of a naturalist, too, sen-sitive to the changing seasons and to the flora and fauna of his Our ministry, in order to be authentic, must cost us something.- in time, in energy, in love. March-April 1992 189 Svoboda ¯ Going the Distance immediate environment. Little wonder Jesus was so effective as a minister--for he was so much more than one. He was a person fascinated by life, and thus he became a source of fascination--and salvation--for others. Yes, Van Gogh said it: "If you want to know God, love many things." But Jesus lived it, leaving an example for all of us who would follow in his footsteps: "If you want to minister, love many things!" The Long-Distance Runner When I taught high school in Raleigh, North Carolina, in the late 70s, I had a senior girl who was a top-ranking long-dis-tance runner. Julie taught me that there is a world of difference between the sprinter and the long-distance runner. The training and techinques are vastly different. The sprinter's goal is near, often clearly visible. He or she relies on a quick burst of energy to reach that goal within a matter of seconds. Because the dis-tance is so short, the sprinter runs side by side, neck and neck, with other runners who provide an impetus for the sprinter to run hard and fast. Not so with the long-distance runner. This runner's goal is miles away, not even visible. He or she must take steps all along the way to conserve energy for the long haul. Pacing becoInes critical. Although the runners in a marathon start out together, toward the end of the race they often find themselves running alone and forced to rely on deep inner resources and not the near-ness of fellow runners to keep them going to the end. The image of the long-distance runner is an appropriate one for those of us engaged in ministry. For most of us are in ministry for the long haul. We do not want our loving service to deterio-rate into a stoic sense of duty, but to remain a joyful gift. We do not want resentment to contaminate our pool of selfless giving. Instead we want our generosity to be alive and well, our com-passion tender and strong. And we wish to carry our enthusiasm for the Good News all the way to the finish line. Thank God, we do not run alone: God, our God, goes with us--the whole distance. 190 Review for Religious HALBERT WEIDNER Newman's Living the Oratory Charism As the biographical approach to writers and thinkers pro-liferates, so does the controversy over its historical worth. I am taking a biographical approach to John Henry Newman with some trepidation because of the length of his life, his great contributions to thought, and the complexities of the issues. Still I am encouraged in the enterprise by Newman him-self, who insisted on the validity of personal influence in the pur-suit of truth) I intend in this essay first to introduce readers to the Oratory of St. Philip Neri, which Newman brought to England, and then to discuss the Oratory as important for understanding certain values in Newman's life. Newman arrived at these values and maintained them at some personal cost. That cost represents for this author, another Oratorian, the personal drama of grace and conversion of a founding father among English-speaking Oratories. The Nature of an Oratory of St. Philip Neri The first thing that should be said about an Oratory is what it is not. It is not a religious order. There are no vows, no oaths, no promises of any kind public or private. There is no Rule. You will see a Rule mentioned in the time of Newman, but actually what you have are constitutions representing the practice of the Roman house in the latter part of the sixteenth century.2 Philip Neri was a reluctant founder who refused to write a Rule or con-stitutions. Halbert Weidner CO sends these reflections from the Spiritual Life Center; 2717 Pamoa Road; Honolulu, Hawaii 96822. March-April 1992 191 This irregular founder lived from 1515 until 1595, coming to Rome as a young Florentine in 1533. He was not ordained until he was thirty-six years old. He had been a student, a hermit and mystic, and a member of a reforming confraternity which served sick pilgrims, that is, the poor who became ill while visit-ing Rome. He lived in a set of apartments with other priests as part of a complex named San Girolamo della Carit~. It was in a prayer room at this church that the crowd who could no longer fit into Philip's rooms began to gather daily at the siesta hour for prayer. It was this afternoon gathering of laity which was the first Oratory.3 Perhaps the best description of St. Philip's intent is given by Newman himself in The Idea of a University: He [Philip Neri] was raised up to do a work ahnost peculiar in the church--not to be a Jerome Savonarola, though Philip had a true devotion towards him and a tender mem-ory of his Florentine house; not to be a St. Charles, though in his beaming countenance Philip had recognized the aure-ole of a saint; not to be a St. Ignatius, wrestling with the foe, though Philip was termed the Society~ bell of call, so many subjects did he send to it; not to be a St. Francis Xavier, though Philip had longed to shed his blood for Christ in India with him; not to be a St. Caietan, or hunter of souls, for Philip preferred, as he expressed it, tranquilly to cast in his net to gain them; he preferred to yield to the stream, and direct the current, which he could not stop, of science, literature, art, and fashion, and to sweeten and to sanctify what God had made very good and man had spoilt.4 Those who gathered around Philip found a mystic, a reformer, and a humanist, but they did not find him in a cloister or in any religious order. They found him in his rooms with the doors wide open to the public and surrounded by laity. This is why the Oratory is first and foremost secular. It was this laity that formed the original gathering for prayer in a place of prayer (that is, an oratory) and these same laypersons who preached, led prayers, sang in the vernacular, and studied together each afternoon under Philip's guidance. The Congregation of the Oratory is a secondary group of secular priests and laity which gathered around Philip as the Oratory became less of a movement and more of an institu-tion. But before this, Philip carried on the ministry of prayer and reflection from 1551 until 1575, more or less activating the laity as the leaders. It was in 1575 that a secondary group of priests and brothers had gathered sufficiently to be formally organized 192 Review for Religious with papal approval. But this Congregation was without any con-stitutions and was still primarily organized for the initial group of laity,s Constitutions for the Congregation were not finished until 1612, seventeen years after Philip's death. Later the institution of the congregation became more clericalized as not only the pri-mary group of laity disappeared, but even the brothers were no longer accepted, leaving a congregation of secular priests who lived together in community. While the Oratory is unique within Roman Catholicism, its values represent a mind-set present among many reformers of the early sixteenth century. This reforming spirit is symbolized by the values St. Jerome came to represent within a church loaded down with religious orders heavy on structure and low in spirit. Erasmus had noted that, in the days of St. Jerome, "the profession of a monk consisted in no more than the practice of the original, free, purely Christian life.''6 The summary of Erasmus's thinking about the ideal religious given us in Eugene Rice's St. Jerome in the Renaissance could also be a description of the spirit animating the early Oratory of St. Philip: Monks then were men who wished only to live with willing friends in liberty of spirit close to the teachings of the Gospel. Their lives were sweetly leisured. No ceremonies or man-made regulations fettered them. No single dress was prescribed. No deference was paid to total abstinence. They studied, they fasted, and sang psalms as the spirit moved them. They took no vows.7 This being said, we can note some positive elements in the Congregation of the Oratory: A. It is a center of prayer by nature. The classical form that this prayer takes dates back to the more intimate group that gath-ered in the evening around Philip. This amounts to about a half hour of silent prayer or meditation concluded with vocal prayers. The two-hour prayer sessions led by and for the laity at the time of St. Philip have been the casualty of time. Likewise the primary group of laity called the Oratory has also passed away except for a remnant often called "the Little Oratory." This name is quite ironic since what has become "little" was in fact the biggest and the first of the founder's works, not to say the very reason behind it all. Except for a directive to somehow maintain the secular or "Little Oratory," the ministry of the Congregation is otherwise unspecified and unspecialized. Each house tends to the work at 21/larch-April992 193 The life of an Oratory is said to be built on a deep regard for "well-known faces.' hand, and assignments tend to reflect the talents of the members. Philip Neri was against centralization and so put on its own every house that wished to follow on his general pattern. He believed that duplication was impossible and that each situation called for its own approach. B. Face-to-face association is essential to the Oratory. In a phrase going back to the community's origins, the life of an Oratory is said to be built on a deep regard for "well-known faces.''8 There were no fears to be engendered in an Oratory over friendships, and such a pol-icy militated against large sizes and the anomaly of "communities" of religious who have to resort to books with mem-bers' pictures for help in identification. C. Relative permanence is an ideal even though there are no vows or any-thing else holding a person to an Oratory. Perseverance is a fundamental aspect of the house spirituality and is often prayed for aloud at community prayer. Note that members cannot be transferred from one house to another and that, if they leave a house to go voluntarily to another that has freely accepted them, they must usually transfer membership as well. This means that problems with and among members must be worked out within the house since, obviously, transference cannot be the solution. Dismissal from a house is a rare and difficult pro-cedure. D. Small numbers, then, are the consequence of Oratorian living. The Constitutions of the Congregation go so far as to say that the power of an Oratory resides in such a small membership. Large numbers would weaken a house, which is supposed to be built on interpersonal relationships. When Newman wrote The Present Position of Catholics in England, he was addressing the men of the secular or Little Oratory. Towards the end, he applies this Oratorian principle of strength despite small numbers when he tells them: Your strength lies in your God and your conscience; there-fore it lies not in your number. It lies not in your number any more than in intrigue, or combination, or worldly wisdom. God saves whether by many or by few; you are to aim at 194 Review for Religious showing forth His light, at diffusing "the sweet odor of His knowledge in every place": numbers would not secure this. On the contrary, the more you grew, the more you might be thrown back into yourselves, by the increased animosity and jealousy of your enemies. You are enabled in some mea-sure to mix with them while you are few; you might be thrown back upon yourselves, when you became many? The Oratory, then, exists to embody the ideal of koinonia, liv-ing together as a fruit of the Holy Spirit and a sign of God's rule. The Oratory is very conscious that only the Spirit can keep it together faithful to the charism and that a life of prayer and open-ness is the only way to persevere with any kind of fruitfulness. Community in this context is not a utility, but an end, the pres-ence of each person's final destiny in the communion of saints somehow present now. E. The Oratory is collegial to a unique degree. All major pol-icy decisions are made by the entire congregation of members who have finished six years. Personnel and financial decisions on a smaller scale are decided by a deputed congregation elected by the membership. The provost is the title of the "superior" who holds the office as first among equals. He is chiefly an adminis-trator and his authority rests in moral persuasion. His only clear power is that of proposal since neither the general congregation nor the smaller deputed congregation can discuss or vote on any-thing without this proposal. Since the provost serves only three years, any provost resisting the majority can only hold out for a certain time. E The Congregation of the Oratory is also juridically pon-tifical. Today each house is now part of a very loose confederation, but each is still a complete pontifical congregation. Each superior is a major superior. In Newman's time there was no confederation at all, and so each house was directly involved with the Roman Curia. This gives each small house a double relationship. They are rooted in their diocese and have a special relationship to the local church and the bishop on one hand, and yet on the other look to the Holy See for the preservation of the charism. We shall see how each of the elements of the Oratory Congregation played a role in the life of Newman. Newman and the Oratory I have chosen five aspects of Newman's life where I believe the March-April 1992 195 Oratorian charism was arrived at and purchased at some cost to him. These are: (1) the elasticity of the Oratory and Newman which was tested in his assumption of the rectorship of the Irish Catholic University, (2) the choice he had between a university apostolate and the Oratory during the Irish Catholic University founding, (3) the promotion of the laity in fields rightly theirs that had been co-opted by clericalism, (4) the resistance to foreign cultural aspects of Roman Catholicism in favor of an indigenous English religious life, (5) fidelity to community life in one place and one people. 1. The Elasticity of the Charism I have said that each Oratory has a great deal of elasticity to it as the congregation has no specific work to which its members are bound. This elasticity is from time to time tested within an individual Oratory, and Newman's assumption of the rectorship of a yet-to-be-founded university in Dublin was a very grave exper-iment in just how flexible an Oratory can be. But the flexibility had a true Oratorian origin. First, it was the result of consultation with both Birmingham and the not-yet-independent London house. Father Faber's letter indicates that the London community thought it good for the congregation that Newman assume the rectorship rather than anything less demand-ing, but less powerful.~° Secondly, it took a papal brief confirm-ing the arrangement before the attempt was made to do the impossible, that is, allow Newman to bilocate as provost in Birmingham and rector in Dublin.11 Thirdly, it was specifically for the purpose of starting a Dublin Oratory, and Newman's build-ing plans indicate he gave priority to the Oratory in that the uni-versity church built there was for the sake of a potential foundation.12 But Newman knew how precarious it was for an Oratorian to be away from his house. In a letter to Ambrose St. John he says, "I trust we shall have an Oratory in Dublin--which is the only thing I can bribe St. Philip with for coming here.''13 That it was a disaster emotionally for Newman and a serious drain on the Birmingham Oratory does not make it any less Oratorian for all that. Because of its lack of structure, it is typical of an Oratory to try to do too much rather than too little. It is easy enough to document other Oratories trying to stretch too thin. Thus we have the Oratory of Goa, India, sending Joseph Vaz to Sri Lanka at a time of persecution and in the clothing of a Hindu 196 Review for Religious holy man. There he labors with other Oratorians scattered around the countryside more like clerks regular than sons of St. Philip.14 My own Oratory in South Carolina had members scattered throughout the state during half of its history and only recently and with great difficulty has been able to return all of the mem-bers to a community life.Is During the time of St. Philip, the Oratory took on dependent missions for a while until St. Philip and the community abruptly called a halt to this development.Is So it is Oratorian to push the Oratory to the extreme and perhaps beyond. It is also Oratorian to eventually return to saner limits and the grace of a life closer to the original charism. 2. The Preference for Obscurity If Newman's acceptance of the rectorship pushed the Oratorian charism beyond limits, his fidelity to an Oratorian voca-tion is demonstrated by his resistance to a classic temptation against the life to which he believed God called him. The asceti-cism of the Oratory is a rigorous egalitarianism. Each member has one vote and all are equal and most aspects of the life are governed by the majority when not regulated by the constitu-tions. It was not uncommon among the best and brightest of St. Philip's followers to leave the Oratory, usually under papal "obe-dience," for higher positions in the church. That St. Philip him-self managed to escape or refuse such offers does not seem to be a grace extended to many of his followers. One of St. Philip's aphorisms was "love to be unknown,''17 but it is a hard saying. And it was a grace extended to Newman. Simply put, when presented with a full-time rectorship of the Irish university, Newman chose the small, obscure Oratory of Birmingham, England.I8 He was consistently resistant to any compromise on this point even though the choice seemed impenetrably obscure to both friends and foes. This disregard for the existence, rights, and potential of the Birmingham Oratory was one of Newman's great crosses. Newman complained, "Me they wish to use--me they wish to detach in every way from my own Fathers.''19 Separating an Oratorian from his community has not always been difficult, and there is evidence to indicate that some of these peo-ple thought they were doing Newman a favor by trying to detach him from the Oratory. Another fear of Newman's was the bad effect an absent provost would have on attracting new members to the Birmingham Oratory. This made the arrangement with the March-April 1992 197 university and Archbishop Cullen finally untenable.2° From inside the Oratory, the sacrifice of an outside position seems to be the heart of a vocation that embraces the asceticism of simply being one among many. 3. Maintaining the Preference for Laity The University episode also exemplifies another Oratorian principle, the importance of laicity to church and Oratory. As I have said, in the nineteenth century much of the lay character of the Oratory was atrophied. Only the little Oratory existed in some places and in some forms. Within some of the Congregations there were lay members or "brothers," for want of a better word, but as in most societies defined as congregations of priests, these brothers had no vote and seniority depended on holy orders first and seminary status second; only third came the brothers, who followed the youngest seminarians. But at a time when brothers in clerical communities of priests were treated as second-class members and even much like servants, Newman wrote to the act-ing superior of Birmingham the following directive: I am somewhat pained, my dear Edward, to hear you speak of us as 'Gentlemen--' We are not Gentlemen in con-tradistinction to the Brothers--they are Gentlemen too, by which 1 mean, not only a Catholic, but a polished refined Catholic. The Brothers are our equals . The Father is above the Brothers sacerdotally--but in the Oratory they are equal2~ This is indeed the spirit of St. Philip, whose esteem for the lay members of the congregation as well as of the religious orders was well known. But making this point about equality is still a struggle today within the congregations. In my opinion, if you ask many Oratorians what the Oratory is, they will simply say that it is a community of priests, without communicating at all the possibility of full lay membership and, since the Second Vatican Council, full voting rights. Newman's second contribution as an Oratorian to laicity was his emphasis on the secular Oratory or the Oratory as a lay move-ment. The revival of the secular or Little Oratory was "more important than anything else," at least in his own eyes. He real-ized that this was not a burning isst.e among the other Oratories, but he himself believed that, if the secular Oratory was not estab-lished, then the Congregation of the Oratory should be consid- 198 Review for Religious ered a faih~re.22 It was, as I said, for the secular Oratory that Newman wrote the lectures now called The Present Position of Catholics, and it is this volume I would call Newman's literary con-tribution to laicity. Perhaps Newman would agree with me, as he believed it in his old age to be his "best written book.''23 It is at any rate, in the opinion of Ian Ker, a popular, even Dickens-like piece of wit and rhetoric introducing the grander themes later developed in his explorations of the nature of a university.24 And, finally, it must be noted that for Newman laity meant men and women. Women had not been his-torically part of the secular Oratory, and so he petitioned Rome for a secular Oratory for women. Even though it did not develop, the rescript obtained estab-lished a new precedent.2s It was this regard for laity as essential to the religious enterprise of the Oratory that informs Newman's Idea of a University, where laicity is central to the educational enterprise. In my reckoning, this is his third contribution to laicity, but probably the best-known outside the Oratory. Newman believed that it was his struggle to appoint a lay vice-rector, to define the university as the province of the laity, and to develop self-moti-vated students with a minimum of authority which led to the ruin of the project.26 It was such "dreadful jealousy of the laity," Newman also believed, which led to the rejection of another planned Oratory at another university, this time no less than Oxford itself.27 Secularity and laicity, principles at the heart of the Oratory of St. Philip Neri, made it impossible for Newman to spread the congregation when both such principles were feared and rejected by church officials who felt the church to be under siege. That the ability to act and to be respectful of church author-ity were compatible seems to be exemplified in the life of the very independent personality Philip Neri. But, when Newman wished to prove the principle by anecdote, he very cleverly chose the most authoritarian of religious societies, the Jesuits, to make his point: "Nothing great or living can be done except when men are self governed and independent: this is quite consistent with a full maintenance of ecclesiastical supremacy. St. Francis Xavier wrote Regard for the laity as essential to the religious enterprise of the Oratory informs Newman's Idea of a University. March-April 1992 199 to St. Ignatius on his knees; but who will say that St. Francis was not a real center of action?''-'s 4. Preference for the Local Culture Around an Oratory Besides preserving laicity, Newman desired also to preserve English culture within the Roman Catholic Church. St. Philip Neri's emphasis on autonomous houses or congregations was rooted in his belief that each locale had its own culture and that the needs of the place had to be met through this culture. There could be nothing more contrary to the spirit of the Oratory than for any of the congregations to see themselves as the importers of foreign customs. The Italian devotionalism of such an Oratorian figure as the famous Father Frederick Faber of London was really a misguided attempt to re-create not only another culture but also another time. Ironically, the culture and time chosen by Faber was the Baroque era--when the Oratory was spreading through Europe, but a century later than Philip's own time and work. The extravagances of Faber and some other members of the London Oratory would not have been as effective as they were without the backing of the Dublin Review (seen to be the voice of London's Archbishop Manning)29 and W.G. Ward. When Newman had a chance to defend Roman Catholicism against some charges of his old Anglican friend E.B. Pusey, there was also the possibility of distancing that same Catholicism from the foreign enthusiasm of converts like Manning, Ward, and Faber. Newman could declare: "I prefer English habits of belief and devotion to foreign, from the same causes, and by the same right, which jus-tifies foreigners in preferring their own. In following those of my people, I show less singularity, and create less disturbance than if I made a flourish with what is novel and exotic.''3° "What is novel and exotic" to many English Catholics was for the London Oratory the true renewal of Catholicism and of the Congregation of the Oratory at the same time. Father Bernard Dalgairns left the Birmingham Oratory for the London house with a condemnation of Newman and his fellow members who had adopted a position paper which has been called an "Apologia pro vita sua--Oratoriana." 3~ Newman had insisted earlier that an Oratory is "the representative of no distant or foreign interest, but lives a~nong and is contented with its own people.''~-~ The con-troversy with Dalgairns assisted the Birmingham house in defin-ing itself against the London clai~n to be normative)3 200 Review for Religious Birmingham did not issue a counterclaim as the true measure of Oratorian life, but it did insist that its own very English adap-tation to education and culture in its own time and place was cer-tainly an authentic version of Oratorian life. The Idea of a University, with its marvelous panegyric of St. Philip Neri, is the public version of these private Oratory position papers which were worked on at the same time. In short, the Birmingham com-munity saw the idea of the Oratory and the idea of the university as complementary and consistent with each other. That authority within another Oratory, authority in the English Catholic hier-archy, and authority in Rome saw this as dangerous eventually prevented Newman from a university ministry and the founding of two Oratories, the one in Dublin, the other in Oxford. If he had not been thwarted--we can ask not only what effect this would have had on the Catholic Church's presence in higher education, but also what kind of model the Oratory would have become for that presence. ~. Fidelity to One Place and Community If Newman's devotion to the Oratory as a humanistic Christian community making the best of its own time and place cost him considerable loss of influence, it also explains why Newman was always hoisted between the limitations of the local hierarchy and Roman authority. As small as an Oratory usually is, it is nevertheless a community of pontifical right. But, because the members never move out of this small community, it is inti-mately involved in the local church and becomes specially related to the bishop. This arrangement was meant to allow the Oratory to serve both worlds best, but it also means that the Oratory is vulnerable to the worst of both. And it was the worst that Newman often had to suffer. Suffering at the hands of both local officials and Curial bureaucrats was the fate of the Oratory's founder, St. Philip Neri, but it took Newman some time to realize that such was his own unavoidable fate.34 In 1856 he could be sanguine about Roman love of an English house of St. Philip ("Be sure," he wrote, "that, if we are really doing work, Rome will never be hard on us, even if we are informal, imprudent, or arbitrary").35 By the 1860s he had suffered enough to be afraid of Rome calling him to the Curia for trial of his opinions and judgments. He was so afraid that he considered such a prospect as the threat of death.36 The March-April 1992 201 bishop of Birmingham was of no help in the face of Roman threats. Newinan wrote privately in 1867 that Ullathorne "wishes to be kind to me, but to stand well with people at Rome super-sedes in his mind every other wish. So he is a coward.''37 We can be considerably grateful that the insight into the abuses of church power led him to write in 1877 the great preface to the ¼"a Media in which he developed a theology of abuses in the church. He asks us to contemplate the implications of Matthew 13 and to choose the complexities and shortcomings of a world church rather than the narrow confines and perfection of a sect. That is, for the sake of Catholicity, we must realize that sanctity will not always be an equally prominent mark of the church.3s Conclusion The burden of this short paper has been to indicate some areas where Newman cannot be completely understood without a direct reference to the Oratory of St. Philip Neri. I would say several areas have been directly touched on. First, there is the mystery Why Birmingham? Why would such a talented person remain faithful to this city when he had been born in London and had adopted Oxford and its university? If living in Birmingham is of any consequence in understanding the mystery of Newman, then only the Oratory suffices for an explanation. Newman consciously rejected the London option because his absence from Birmingham would have been the death of a community wishing to live around him.39 And it is within the mystery of a providence that settled the Oratory in Birmingham that we have the mystery of Newman's fidelity to St. Philip, a fidelity which certainly shaped the field of Newman's activities which we have now inherited. Secondly, knowing the Oratory helps us understand how Newman was able to function as pastor and theologian. He had no official standing in a seminary or a university, and his membership in the Oratory cut him off from preferments in the diocese. Yet, despite the fragility of the Oratory and Newman's vulnerability to his enemies with real power bases, he was able to accomplish much. As a pastor he was perpetually available to a local people, and as a teacher he could, in the Congregation, exercise his tal-ents and find reinforcement of his values. Thirdly, the prophetic stands which he brought to the Roman 202 Review for Religious Catholic Church found a congenial place within the tradition of Philip Neri and the Oratory. Laicity, education, and culture were not feared in the Oratory, but promoted. Certainly the Oratory could accommodate the interests of such a person as Newman, and this I think says a lot for the Oratory. Finally, the Oratory provided an emotional complementarity for Newman. Newman had written that he had "never liked a large Oratory. Twelve working priests has been the limit of my ambition. One cannot love many at one time; one cannot really have many friends.''4° The rather intimate expression of this is found in the well-known conclusion to the Apologia, but I would beg an indulgence to cite a lesser-known example found in Meriol Trevor's Life. Late in life some parishioners brought Newman a portrait of himself as a gift to the Birmingham Oratory. Newman replied to them in these words: You ask for my blessing and I bless you with all my heart, as I desire to be blessed myself. Each one of us has his own individuality, his separate history, his antecedents and his future, his duties, his responsibilities, his solemn trial, and his eternity. May God's grace, His love, His peace rest on all of you, united as you are in the Oratory of St. Philip, on old and young, on confessors and penitents, on teachers and taught, on living and dead. Apart from that grace, that love, that peace, nothing is stable, all things have an end; but the earth will last its time, and while the earth lasts, Holy Church will last, and while the Church lasts, may the Oratory of Birmingham last also, amid the fortunes of many generations one and the same, faithful to St Philip, strong in the protection of our Lady and all Saints, not losing as time goes on its sympathy with its first fathers, whatever may be the burden and interests of its own day, as we in turn now stretch forth our hands with love and awe towards those, our unborn successors, whom on earth we shall never kFIow.41 From the Oratory of Birmingham, England, Newman gives a blessing because he believed his life as an Oratorian was itself a blessing. For this reason the Oratory might merit a considera-tion when we think of Newman and what it cost him to be a Catholic and what it was like for him to rejoice as an old man after a long time not only in the Catholic Church but in the Oratory of St. Philip Neri. March-April 1992 203 Notes ~ NewInan's classical exposition of this is found in University Sermons, vol. 5, pp. 75-98, and elucidated very well by Stephen Dessain in The Spirituality offfobn Henry Newman (Minneapolis, 1977), pp. 31-55. But see this theme repeated in an Oratorian context in Newman's Oratory Paper No. 6 in Placid Murray, Newman the Oratorian (Leominster, England, 1968), pp. 215-216. -' For the documentation of the constitutional development of the Congregation, see Antonius Cistellini CO, Collectanea Vetustorum ac Fundamentalium Documentorum Congregationis Oratorii Sancti Philippi Nerii (Brescia, 1982). ~ The more detailed history of this development can be found in Louis Ponnelle and Louis Border, St. Philip Neri and the Roman Society of His Times (London, 1932), pp. 166-173. 4 Idea, Discourse 9, no. 9. ~ Ponnelle and Bordet, pp. 287-381. 6 Erasmus, Ep. 164, in Opus epistolarum Des. Erasmii Roterodami, ed. P. S. Allen, H.M. Allen, and H.W. Garrod (Oxford, 1906-08), quoted in Eugene Rice Jr., Saint Jerome in the Renaissance (Baltimore, 1985), p. 133. 7 Rice, p. 133. 8 The 1969 Constitutions of the Congregation read in no. 15: "The Congregation follows the primitive Christian community that its char-acteristic power consists not in the multitude of its members, but rather in mutual knowledge--so that there may be a regard for the well-known faces--and in the true bond of love, by which those of the same family may be bound together through the practice of daily customs." See Newman the Oratorian, p. 329, for Newman's familiarity with the con-cept of well-known faces or countenances. ~ Prepos., p. 388. ~o Autobiographical Vt~ritings (AI/V), p. 281. 11AW, p. 286. ~2 Ian Ker, John Henry Newman (Oxford, 1988), p. 433. 13 Letters and Diaries (LD), vol. 14, p. 377. ~4 See S.G. Perera SJ, Life of the Venerable Father Joseph Uaz, Apostle of Ceylon (Galle, 1953). Newman indicates a long-standing knowledge of this special case in a letter written in 1867. ~s There is no history written of this first of the Oratories in the United States, and the archives of the house are very sketchy. There is no written rationale of the house for the scattering of the members, but some effort was made to rotate them back to Rock Hill if they were some distance away. There is an article describing the Rock Hill house written by Edward YVahl, one of the earlier members, in Oratorium, Ann. III, S.I-N. 1, Ian-Iun. 1972, pp. 23-32. ~' Ponnelle and Bordet, pp. 471-474. 204 Review for Religious 17 E A. Agnelli, The Excellencies of the Congregation of the Oratory of St. Philip Neri (Venice, 1825), translated and abridged by F.A. Antrobus, London 1881, chapter 1, section V. is LD, vol. 18, pp. 478,483. 19 LD, vol. 17, p. 447. '-OLD, vol. 18, pp. 114-115. z1 LD, vol. 16, p. 267. 22 LD, vol. 14, p. 274. ,~3 LD, vol. 26, p. 115. 24 Ker, pp. 365-372. 25 LD, vol. 17, p. 137. See Newman the Oratorian, p. 311, for his appre-ciation of the Oratory and women. 26 A~17~ p. 327. 27 LD, vol. 21, p. 327. 28LD, vol. 21, p. 331. ~'9 Ker, p. 579. 3o DiffT, ii, pp. 20-21. 31 Placid Murphy calls these papers another apologia (Newman the Oratoria~l, p. 299). -~'~ Newman the Oratorian, p. 196. 33 Newman the Oratorian, p. 358. 34 The 1848 paper in Newman the Oratorian lists the persecutions Philip suffered (see p. 163). In 1862 he can compare his troubles to the founder's (see AW, pp. 256-257). 35 LD, vol. 17, p. 151. 36 LD, vol. 20, pp. 445-448. ~7 LD, vol. 23, p. 296. 38 See R. Bergeron, LesAbus de L'~glise d'apr& Newman (Paris, 1971), and the annotated edition of Newman's ~a Media (Oxford, 1990), ed. H.D. Weidner. 39 LD, vol. 13, pp. 51-52. 40 Newman the Oratorian. p. 387. 4~ Meriol Trevor, Newman, Light in I:Vinter (New York, 1962), p. 582. March-April 1992 205 DENNIS J. BILLY The Resurrection Kernel theology and spirituality Is there a fundamental principle of the resurrection? The answer to this question depends on the way in which one understands the relationship of history to the reality of the risen Christ. This relationship, in turn, depends on the stance one takes towards the possibility of a transhistorical event and the type of impact it would have on the continuities and discontinuities of historical change. However understood, the impact itself would have vast ramifications for the whole of theology. Resurrection: Distinguishing Idea from Reality At the outset, it may be helpful to distinguish between resurrection (1) as a particular item in the history of ideas and (2) as the reality experienced among the earliest fol-lowers of Christ. The former may be separated from the viewpoint of faith, compared with other ideas about the nature of the afterlife, and evaluated on a rational basis for its various strengths and weaknesses as a viable expla-nation of the nature of life after death. As a transhistori-cal event with historical consequences, the latter is intricately bound to the faith of the primitive Christian community and cannot be studied in such a detached, ana- Dennis J. Billy CSSR continues his reflections on various cen-tral tenets of our faith and their relationship to the vowed life of religious. His address is Accademia Alfonsiana; Via Merulana, 31; C.P. 2458; 00100 Rome, Italy. 206 Review for Religious lyrical manner. Any effort to formulate a fundamental principle of the resurrection must be careful to take both sides of this dis-tinction into account. The Idea of Resurrection. A well-grounded discussion of an idea should begin with an attempt to identify its most distinctive char-acteristics. With respect to its general mean-ing, one could accurately describe the term "resurrection" as a belief common among Christians that, at some point after death, an individual is transformed by the power of the Divinity on every level of his or her anthro-pological makeup--the corporeal, the psy-chological, the spiritual, and the social--and thus raised to a higher level of human exis-tence in a way that always remains in funda-mental continuity with his or her historical, earthly life. The most distinctive marks in this short yet exact account of the idea of resurrection include: (1) personal life after death, (2) in a The idea of resurrection alone safeguards the inviolate dignity of each human being on every level of existence. transformed state, (3) embracing all the anthropological factors of human existence, and (4) in a way continuous with an individual's concrete, earthly life. Each of these elements is essential to the idea of resurrection as it is used in this essay and as it exists in the major Christian traditions. These characteristics also set the idea of resurrection apart from the related idea of bodily resuscitation (for example, the raising of Lazarus, Jn 11:44), as well as from the other major philosophical and religious explanations of the nature of life in the hereafter (for example, the immortality of the soul, reincar-nation, nirvana). When these are compared, the idea of resur-rection distinguishes itselfi (1) from bodily resuscitation, in its emphasis on a transformed existence in life after death; (2) from the immortality of the soul, in its inclusion of all of humanity's anthropological factors in the nature of that existence; (3) from reincarnation, in its rupture of the cycle of time and its insistence on the fundamental continuity of life in the hereafter with a per-son's earthly existence; and (4) from nirvana, in its avowal that final beatitude does not involve the extinction of individual con-sciousness. The greatest strength of the idea of resurrection is March-April 1992 207 that, of all of the ideas about the nature of life after death, it alone safeguards the inviolate dignity of each human being on every level of his or her existence. That is to say that it alone keeps human nature eternally intact while, at the same time, saving the individual from ultimate personal extinction. Its greatest weak-ness is that, in representing the fulfillment of one of the deepest and most profound hopes of the human heart, it seems almost too good to be true, an attractive but highly unlikely possibility. For this reason, of all the ideas of life in the hereafter, resurrec-tion is the one most difficult to accept on the simple basis of faith. The Reality of the Resurrection. Rooted in the hopes of Jewish apoc-alypticism during the centuries just prior to the appearance of Christ, and promulgated during Jesus' own lifetime by the reli-gious elite known as the Pharisees, the idea of resurrection devel-oped to its present form as a result of theological reflection on the nature of the Christ event, most especially in the primitive Christian community's interpretation of the meaning of the apos-tolic experience of the risen Lord. This reflection is intimately tied to the trust that community placed in the validity of the apos-tolic witness and to the experience of faith upon which it rested. It is also the context within which one may speak of the resur-rection not as an idea, but as a reality and a hope. \Vhat precisely happened on the first Easter morning remains shrouded by the subjective awareness of the earliest followers of Jesus. That awareness probably ran the gamut of several emo-tional states--from depression and fear, to suspicion and isola-tion, to incipient faith and the lingering yearning for the retrieval of lost expectations--and most likely varied in each of the persons involved. That is not to say that the event had no basis outside the experience of Jesus' followers, but only that there is no way to determine what it is with any accuracy. It is for this reason that, down through the centuries, the Easter event remains primarily an experience of faith in the lives of Jesus' followers. A distinction must still be made, however, between the faith of those who witnessed the Easter event personally and those whose faith relies on the testimony of the apostles. The procla-mation of the church rests upon the eyewitness accounts of the apostles, that is, on those who made the startling claim to have experienced for themselves the reality of the risen Lord. Their experience of faith remains qualitatively different from that of 208 Review for Religious the believer in the pew, for they claim to have experienced a real-ity outside of themselves, rooted in the objective order, distinct from their own subjectivity, and identified with the person of their Master, Jesus of Nazareth. Without the unprecedented bold-ness and resiliency of these claims, the Christian project would have nothing distinctive in its message and probably would never have gotten off the ground. These apostolic claims emerge from one of two possibilities: the experience of the risen Christ was with or without a basis in the person of Jesus in the external order. That is to say that the experience of the apostles corresponds to a reality outside of themselves or remains entirely subjective in all respects. If the former is true, then the further question must be asked regarding the nature of this basis in the external order. If the latter be true, then the only conclusion to be drawn is that the apostles suffered from self-delusion, that their testimony is false, as is the religion to which it gave rise. The fact that neither of these possibilities can be proven highlights the underlying quality of faith inherent in the conclusions of both the believer and non-believer alike. Still more can be said about the position of the believer. If the apostolic experience of the risen Christ does have an external basis in the person of Jesus, then this affirmation, when combined with the idea of resurrection developed earlier in this essay, nec-essarily points to an event of singular historical significance. Indeed, this event could be measured by the instruments of his-torical observation only by its effects (for example, a missing body) and, for this reason, must be placed in a category unique to itself and understood as a transhistorical event with historical conse-quences. This is so precisely because the risen Christ, existing in a transformed state but in a way continuous with his earthly life, does not lead "a historical existence" in the way in which the phrase is commonly used. That is to say that space and time no longer set the limits for his physical existence. In his resurrected state, Christ is the Alpha and the Omega, a singular dimension unique unto himself, who recapitulates, both now and forever, all The Easter event remains primarily an experience of faith in the lives of lesus" followers. March-April 1992 209 of creation within himself, into the love of the Father and the joy of their Spirit. The Resurrection Kernel From all that has been said, a sound formulation of the fun-damental principle of the resurrection (the resurrection kernel) would consist in the affirmation of faith that the idea of resur-rection has become a reality in the risen Christ. This reality is rooted in the transhistorical nature of the Christ event, whose historical consequences linger even to this day in the ongoing proclamation of the church. Based on the testimony of its apos-tolic forebears, the church has, in its ministry down through the centuries, kept alive for humanity the fervent hope that the deep-est yearnings of the human heart will one day be fully realized. That is to say that the transformation wrought by God in Christ promises to extend itself to all who are incorporated into his body, the church. In this respect, a sharing in the life of the risen Lord may be looked upon as the ultimate destiny of all of humankind and will be impeded only by a stubborn individual or corporate persistence in the life of sin. Given the above formulation, a number of important obser-vations arise: (1) To affirm that an idea has become a reality is to utilize the well-known philosophical distinction between the internal (that is, subjective) and external (that is, objective) orders. The limitations of this distinction are well known, and care must be taken not to stretch the analogy beyond its avowed usefulness. Indeed, special care must be taken not to project the concerns of the so-called critical problem back to a time before its signifi-cance was entirely known. (2) God the Father is the primary agent in bringing about this realization in Christ. Since idea and reality are intimately connected in the Divinity's vision of itself, the resurrection of Christ may be viewed as a providential movement on the part of the Father to bring the plan of redemption in accord with the working of the Divine Mind, that is, the Logos. In this respect, Christ's resurrection is that event which, touching upon history but transcending time, initiates the ultimate return of all created things back to God. (3) This view of Christ's resurrection also sheds light upon 210 Review for Religious the development in the early church of the doctrine of the incar-nation. If it is true that, in Christ's resurrection, flesh has been divinized and lifted up into the reality of the Word, it follows that, at some point prior to this momentous occasion, the Word itself had descended into the reality of human flesh and had become a human person. Putting aside for the moment the vari-ous intricacies involved in discussing the Christological contro-versies in the early centuries of the church, it seems quite appropriate to say that the doctrines of Christ's incarnation and resurrection form two aspects of a single salvific event which, if one were to borrow the Neoplatonic exitus/reditus structure adopted by Aquinas, represents the recreatio,z of all things going out of (exitus) and going back (reditus) to God. It is in this sense that all things are recapitulated in Christ, the New Adam. (4) As described above, the resurrection is not merely the state of Christ's postmortem existence, but an intricate part of the whole process of redemption. If Christ's exitu} from the Father reaches its furthest extension in his passion and death on the cross (described in the Creed as his descent into hell), his reditus is ush-ered in by the events of Easter morning, and his Spirit is the prin-ciple by which all things continue to be gathered into his body and thus into the presence of the Father. (5) As a transhistorical event with historical consequences, the resurrection of Christ exists outside of but in relation to the realm of historical inquiry. In this regard, it lies beyond the realm of scientific investigation and can be affirmed only through faith in the testimony of those claiming to have actually experienced Jesus after his death. That is not to say that the apostles did not experience outside of themselves in the exter-nal order, but only that the basis for their experience cannot be verified. (6) Indeed, probably the only historical consequence of mea-surable scientific value would have been the disappearance of Jesus' body at the actual moment of his resurrection. Since the precise whereabouts of the body was a point of contention even in the initial aftermath of the Easter proclamation (Mt 28:13), one must conclude that, although its disappearance could have been verified, if not scientifically, then at least through pagan eyewitness accounts, it obviously was not. (7) On all other points, the detached observer would not be able to separate the subjective experience of the apostles from March-April 1992 211 the reality of the risen Christ. There would, in other words, have been no way of determining whether or not they were actually experiencing anything beyond their own intensified inner aware-ness. The singularity of this experience would be expected if a transhistorical event were to occur and be experienced in its his-torical consequences. (8) To the extent that it is not based on direct experience but on the testimony of others, the faith of the church is qualitatively different from the faith of the apostles. Not only does it point to the conviction of those who claimed to have experienced the risen Lord, but, in one respect, it is even a purer experience of faith: "Happy are those who have not seen and yet believe" (Jn 20:29). (9) Belief in the risen Christ keeps alive in people the hope that, after death, their lives will not end, but merely change. Because of Christ's resurrection, they look forward to a trans-formed existence in the hereafter, one in continuity with their own lives on earth. Sustained by a believer's prayerful response to the contetnporary challenges of Christian discipleship, this hope forms the basis upon which life in the resurrection is anticipated even in the present. (10) Through their participation in the ministry and life of the church, people receive a foretaste of this transformed exis-tence, especially when they partake of the sacraments around the table of the Lord. It was at the Eucharist where Jesus' disciples recognized him in the breaking of the bread (Lk 24:30). It is there where Christians, even to this day, gather to do the same. This is especially true for those who dedicate their lives to Christ through the following of the evangelical counsels. Religious and the Resurrection In their vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience, religious strive to center their lives upon the reality of the risen Christ. They seek to do so by virtue of their firtn conviction that they are called to share in the life of the resurrection by making the idea of the vows a lived reality in their day-to-day existence. Christ, who exhibited both before and after his resurrection a life dedicated to the Father through the eschatological signs of the evangelical counsels, asks religious to do the same. The strength to do so comes from Christ and is mediated by his Spirit through his church and its ministry of the sacraments. While such dedi- 212 Review for Religious cation is never fully realized in the present, religious are called to imitate Christ throughout their entire lives. It is for this reason that, at the end of their earthly lives, they hope to share in the full-ness of his transformed existence. In their vowed life in common, religious pledge to give them-selves over entirely to the life of the risen Lord. In their vow of poverty, they seek both physical and spiritual detachment from material goods, doing so not out of a suspicion about the fundamental good-ness of creation, but from the convic-tion that it too will undergo a transformation in the fullness of Christ's kingdom. In their vow of chastity, they promise to forgo the goods of marriage, children, and sexual pleasure, thereby accepting Christ's Gospel declaration that there will be neither husband nor wife in the life to come (Lk 20:35) and that, even in the realm of relationships, all who abide in him will live a trans-formed existence. In their vow of obe-dience, they promise to accept the will of their superiors as a manifestation of God's plan for their lives, thus hoping to estab-lish within themselves a continual movement of accord between their own wills and that of the their risen Lord. Finally, in their communal existence, they hold each other accountable for the way of life they have chosen and seek to reflect in their mutual relations that dignity and care appropriate to those who are called to be members of Christ's body. By means of their individual and communal dedication to the evangelical counsels, it is clear that religious seek, even in this present life, a deeper share in the life of the resurrection. Through their vowed life in community, religious thus provide a faithful witness for themselves, the rest of the church, and the entire world that the idea of resurrection has not only been made a reality in Christ but that it is striving, at this very moment, to be realized in the lives of those who believe. In this respect, their witness affirms the movement of Christ's Spirit in the life of the church and provides a foretaste of the life to come. That is not to say that religious embody this charismatic dimension of the church better or more faithfully than any of the other vocations within the Belief in the risen Christ keeps alive in people the hope that, after death, their lives will not end, but merely change. March-April 1992 213 church (for example: single, married, priestly states), but only that their way of life is especially suited to it. Of its very nature, the religious life forIns a part of the charismatic dimension of the church. Indeed, to the extent that religious communities do not manifest to both others and themselves the gentle yet challenging presence of the Spirit, they fall short of the explicit nature of their call to center their lives entirely around the reality of the risen Christ. He it was who first imparted the Holy Spirit to his body, the church. He it is who continues to do so even to the present day. Through their faithfulness to the vows, lived in community and in the Spirit, religious seek mainly to nourish their relation-ship with the risen Christ. This personal relationship to the Lord motivates all of their activity for the establishment of God's king-dom; it is also what draws others to follow their particular way of life. Indeed, the care with which they tend this relationship is itself a sign that the reality of Christ's resurrection is meant for all to share and experience in all its fullness. In this respect, reli-gious must be ever conscious that their vowed life in common has little meaning if it is separated from life in the Spirit of the risen Christ and seen as an end in itself. To be sure, there is noth-ing sadder in the life of the church than to see individual reli-gious and, at times, entire communities lose sight of the meaning of their vocation. When people of such great promise and poten-tial compromise themselves and begin to believe that the Spirit is no longer active in their lives and that things will never change for the better, when men and women, who are called to be signs of hope, begin to believe in the voices of hopelessness, then the time is ripe for a prophet to arise within their midst to challenge them to come back to the Lord and to live the life to which they have been called. At the same time, there is nothing more joyful in the life of the church than to see men and women who, out of love for their Lord, renounce the very things for which they most actually strive during their sojourn on earth. To live in poverty, without children or spouse, and without full personal liberty provides oth-ers with the constantly needed reminder that the fullness of riches, family life, and freedom is ultimately found only in one's rela-tionship to him whom the apostles acclaimed to be truly risen. 214 Review for Religious Conclusion This essay has sought to outline the basic, underlying principle of the Christian doctrine of the resurrection. It has done so, on the one hand, by describing in as precise detail as possible the mean-ing of the idea of resurrection as under-stood in the church's teaching and, on the other hand, by looking into some of the fundamental presuppositions regarding the resurrection of Christ as experienced by his earliest followers. Bringing these two currents of inquiry together, the funda-mental principle of the resurrection (the resurrection kernel) was described as the affirmation of faith that the idea of resur-rection has become a reality in the risen Christ. Seen as a transhistorical event with historical consequences, the acclaimed res-urrection of Jesus of Nazareth lies, for all practical purposes, beyond the scope of scientific verification and remains inti- Through their faithfulness to the vows, lived in community and in the Spirit, religious seek mainly to nourish their relationship with the risen Christ. mately tied to the internal, subjective event of faith to which it gave life. That is not to say that Jesus' resurrection has no ground in the external order, but only that it ultimately lies beyond the scope of controlled observation. In this respect, the faith experi-ence of those who experienced the risen Lord is qualitatively dif-ferent from that of those whose faith rests upon their testimony. Blessed precisely because they believe without seeing, today's believers share in the hope of their own transformed existence which, through their experience of the Spirit in the church com-munity of the faithful, may be experienced even now in the quiet anticipation of the fullness of a reality yet to come. They bring their hearts' deepest yearning for the fullest presence of the risen Christ to the table of the Lord, where they are blessed with a glimpse of

Issue 51.3 of the Review for Religious, May/June 1992. ; for religious Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living MAY-JUNE 1992 ¯ VOLUME 51 ¯ NUMBER 3 Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis Universio,., by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-535-3048. 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 V~;ashington, D.C. 20017. POSTMASTER Senti address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, anti additional offices. SUBSCRIPTION RATES Single copy $5.00 includes surface mailing costs. One-year subscription $15.00 plus mailing costs. Two-year subscription $28.00 plus mailing costs. See inside back cover for subscription information and mailing costs. ©1992 Review for Religious for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Assistant Editors Advisory Board David L. Fleming sJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Michael G. Harter SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe David J. Hassel SJ Mary Margaret Johanning SSND Iris Ann Ledden SSND Edmundo Rodriguez SJ Se~in Sammon FMS Wendy Wright PhD Suzanne Zuercher OSB Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living MAY/JUNE 1992 ¯ VOLUME 51 ¯ NUMBER 3 contents life choices 326 A Monastic Way in the World Theresa Mancuso tells of the monasticism she has found herself continuing to live now for ten years in New York City, ever since she left her monastery in upstate New York. 337 I Leap Back Over the Wall Corey S. Van Kuren OFMCap offers reflections on his experience of reentering a religious community. 341 Why We Stay Eileen P. O'Hea CSJ presents a personal witness to a lasting commitment to the religious vocation. 347 When a Sister or Brother Leaves Melannie Svoboda SND offers personal reflections on the departure from religious life of a lifelong friend. transitions 356 The Integral Sabbatical Brian B. McClorry SJ blends the traditional sabbatical elements of coursework and reading with time in a remote wilderness and discovers the riches of the ordinary. 373 Using Ignatian Discernment Philip L. Boroughs SJ applies the Ignatian principles for discernment to a person in a time of transition. scripture and spiritual life 388 A Woman's Compassionate and Discerning Heart Mary Lou Cranston CND examines the compassionate heart of the. woman in 1 Kings 3 as a model for understanding discernment and its relationship to religious obedience and governance. 397 Peter's Characterization in Luke-Acts Lola M. Wells proposes that a unified reading of Luke-Acts provides a valuable portrait of individual discipleship. 3 2 2 Review for Religious 403 Petitionary Prayer in a Biblical Perspective John H. Zupez SJ reflects on the constant value of petitionary prayer especially through a more mature way of entering into our Scriptures. 408 Hasidism, Creation, and the Psalms Joseph Fichtner OSC, guided by the Hasidic tradition, finds in the Psalms an awe-filled creation spirituality alert to the Creator's presence and power. devotional life 417 Marian Spirituality and Apparitions Walter T. Brennan OSM suggests that the proliferation of Marian apparitions leaves us living in a gray area of pastoral judgment and practice, but paradoxically gray is full of color. 424 The Mirror Image in Clare of Assisi Sister Karen Karper develops how Clare presents Christ as the mirror of one's own deepest identity and its apostolic implications. charism and mission 432 Reclaiming Competence Theresa M. Monroe RSCJ indicates that some careful limits and boundaries would protect the creativity our times demand of religious institutes. 453 Restructuring William F. Hogan CSC points out that restructuring in religious congregations must balance the twofold need to maintain institutional essentials and to adapt to the challenges of the mission. 458 reflection Why Claude la Colombi~re? John A. McGrail SJ uses the canonization of Claude la Colombi~re to consider the roots and contemporary value of devotion to the Sacred Heart. departments 324 Prisms 461 Canonical Counsel: Voluntary Exclaustration 469 Book Reviews May-j~une 1992 323 prisms Pope John Paul II seems to be setting a record in saint making. In his various missionary travels, he frequently celebrates the ritual of beatification or can-onization of a woman or man recognized for holiness by the local people. Some are critical of this making of saints. "Out of step with the times," they say. Others just wonder why. We human beings need our heroes and heroines. The stories of women and men who have captured our minds and hearts because of their bravery, their dedicated service, their contribution to a more humane world have been told in every culture and in every age. The names change, the circumstances differ, but the inspiration for human living remains the same. We all seem to be searching for a glimpse or two of heroism not too far from home. Yet some fear or some reluctance appears to stifle, early on, our own desire for the heroic. Various factors may contribute to this reluc-tance. Perhaps pop psychology, too readily imbibed as Gospel, has made us too content with being the ordinary persons we are, too willing to be coddled into a generic self-esteem. Or when heroes are proposed, a mean spirit in us and in our culture may drive us to search out ways to cut these people back down to ordinary size . . . or less. Maybe such behavior flows from a poorly idealized pro-letarian spirit which is a communist residue in us all. Often it seems that heroes or heroines are quickly raised up and 324 Review fbr Relig4ous just as quickly forgotten. Perhaps our enthusiasm for their exam-ple and their deeds lasts no longer than the music or video of the moment. Then, too, we probably fear the disappointment of the hero or heroine letting us down; we surely fear the cost of hero-ism for ourselves. Despite such stifling factors or because of them, our need for inspiring heroism to permeate our everyday world in the living example of contemporary women and men remains. The vari-ous spiritual traditions in the church have been first enfleshed in the lives of women and men before they came to be written down as programs for the following of Christ. Life and ministry shone out in persons with names and faces before any rule or constitu-tions were formulated. There comes a time in every spirituality when structures or formulas or written theological treatises are essential if it is to become a heritage or tradition within the church community. A common way that particular spiritualities have been institutionalized has been through the foundation of religious congregations. Religious life does not exist as a generic reality, but only in particular embodiments, each with its own approved rule of life, an organized spiritual tradition. A religious rule of life, then, not only provides for the identity of a particular reli-gious family as a legitimate form of following Christ, but also ¯ brings that family's prophetic voice to the harmonies and coun-terpoints of the church on earth. The danger of any heritage arises when it becomes a tomb or sculpted sarcophagus, beautiful in its form, but containing disconnected bones devoid of breath. Only heroes and heroines make spiritualities live. Can people live heroic lives in an unheroic age? The answer obviously lies with us. No matter what our spirituality or her-itage may be, the people who embody it for us retain an impor-tance beyond a brilliant theoretical study of a particular charism or some wonderfully fashioned new constitutions. Saints, both old and new, hold out to us the promise that this kind of a fol-lowing of Christ is humanly possible. Requiring a little heroism, perhaps, but humanly possible. Our church and our world need heroes and heroines. Anyone of us who is serious about the spiritual heritage we try to live rec-ognizes the call within it to be heroic. To paraphrase Chesterton, it is not so much that heroism has been tried in our day and found wanting; rather, today we try so little to be heroic. .David L. Fleming SJ May-3~une 1992 325 life choices THERESA MANCUSO A Monastic Way in the World Into the darkness of a cold winter's night, I peer quietly from my third-floor window, reflective after the day's work. Gathering up my briefcase and tightening my gray woolen scarf close about my face, I leave the office and head up Lafayette Street towards the "M" train. This is the evening part of my daily routine, the trip home from work. Upstate far away the semantron sounds over halcyon hills of white birch. Monks and nuns make ready to answer the call of the monastery bell which will soon follow the hol-low rhythm of the semantron. Donning black choir robes, they will take their places for Vespers. Ancient chants will blend harmoniously with the whistling mountain wind as it purrs along the windows of the monastery church. Still living my self-imposed exile of a decade, I walk through the darkening streets of lower Manhattan as falling snow shimmers softly about the dim street lights. I hear down-town church bells chiming six o'clock. The old nostalgia rises as I hustle down broken concrete steps into.the cold, damp tunnel, far from the candlelight kingdom of my monastery home. The "M" train screeches into the sta-tion, jamming to a stop along the drab platform. Doors fling open and I rush to board, jostled by the crowd, my fellow travelers, all scrambling for a seat. Everything monastic, everything I love, is far away and long removed, Theresa Mancuso has been a member of an active religious order and of.a monastic community. She has published on wide-ranging topics 'including religious education, elder abuse, and criminal probation. She lives at 448 Seventh Avenue; Brooklyn, New York 11215. 326 Review for Religious but I carry it still in my heart. Here in the streets of the city or deep beneath them hurling through subterranean corridors on hard cold rails of steel, I ponder the Desert Fathers and the vows I made years ago while walking in their pathways. Every day, five days out of seven, I begin and end my travels at Union Street station in the underside of Park Slope, Brooklyn. It is a poor neighborhood unreclaimed by urban renewal. Trash and waste clutter its curbs and sidewalks, a place where immigrants cling tena-ciously to the fringes of hope that carried them from their homes in Ecuador, Nicaragua, Puerto Rico, parts of Asia, Africa, and Eastern Europe. They work hard here and live hard, struggling to make it on Union Street. These are my neigh-bors and I am theirs. Amid the drama of daily life unfolding here with its stark reality calling me toward a new wisdom, I park my car and climb down the subway steps to board the train to and from Manhattan. Every morning and every evening my meditation begins and ends here, my earnest prayer rising from the cold and lonely street. The crowded train on weekday mornings teaches me much of patience and endurance. Pushing, shoving, sweating, shivering, they board, riders of this underground iron horse, travel-weary as they squeeze into place. Once settled, the subway people sink into watchful silence, hardly raising their eyes yet ever on guard. Destinies mingle here in this place where the sun does not shine and danger is always just a breath away. Muggings and murder are familiar specters in the New York City subway. The security of the monastery is a dream-like state, a fading unfamiliar mem-ory. There is no security here. Here one rides in the arms of Divine Providence, wrapped in total abandonment under the pro-tection of the Mother of God. There are no promises of personal safety in the darkness of this daily voyage underneath the city. I often look about and see prayer happening on the faces of many fellow travelers. Some'read Scripture, openly holding a small Bible on their laps; some say the rosary, while others sit straight with hands folded in the perfect posture of meditation. How true ring the words that rise in my heart as the train rushes forward, "Holy God, Holy Mighty One, Holy Immortal One, have mercy on us." I often look about and see prayer happening on the faces of many fellow travelers. May-.~une 1992 327 Mancuso ¯ A Monastic V~ay in the IVorld Dirt and discomfort surround me as I call upon the assistance of the Holy Spirit to quiet my soul and prepare my mind to reflect more deeply on that which alone is nec.es~ary. In this, the most unlikely of places, I have learned to make my daily prayer. Well I remember the daily formula used in my earliest experience of religious life, when the superior commenced the community's prayer time with the words: "Let us place ourselves in the pres-ence of God and ask the assistance of the H?ly Spirit to make our meditation well." These words speak themselves in my mind as the subway train runs along the track. The harsh screech of iron wheels blazing along the curved track under the East River assaults my ears as my mind focuses on interior prayer. My eyes meet a kaleidoscope of society, fellow travelers scurrying like ants on their way to anyplace but here. They are part of the collage of prayer that rises in my heart. Sometimes I wrestle with truths of the spiritual life learned in the safe, secure society of robed monks and nuns and I try to apply those truths to today's society, neither safe nor secure. What is monasticism if not the road to repentance? And what is this daily voyage in the belly of the earth if not a journey of repentance? I study my companions .along t_fie way, for they will often teach me without saying a word. Busines~ men and women dressed in smart somber suits, their briefcases clutched with pro-found importance--their presence awakens me to the cries of sec-ular society. I watch students and tourists with backpacks loaded on their shoulders, leftover hippies with long hair tied in greasy ponytails. I observe ill-clad .teenagers late for school or playing hookey, perhaps, instead. The sea of humanity that ebbs and flows around me leads me deeper into contemplation of the Creator who knows them all, each by name, who reads the secrets of their hearts and hears their every longing. My fellow riders are of every race, religion, color, size, and descriptign. Together we hurl through tl~is iron tube deep in the belly of darkness. The homeless are here, too, dreary and desolate, fighting a daily battle with hunger, told, and desperation. They live on the subway trains or ride them until they are evicted, for here at least there is some warmth and shelter from the outdoor elements. Coffee cups are freqtiently extended in their dirty hands under hungry, sad, defeated eyes. What can they not teach me of poverty and penance? Indeed, I am embarrassed at the luxuries I knew in the monastery while they, the poor and dispossessed, not 328 Review for Religiog~ by vow but by reality, have perhaps not for one instant in a life-time known real comfort, security, or personal safety. They force me to reexamine everything I once took for granted. I count their sufferings in vacant eyes and in the biting fatigue on faces worn and haggard. They call me to deeper repentance without saying a single word, me who have enjoyed so much of what they lack. Outside the protection and security of the religious life, outside the shelter of community, I have come to new terms with reality, to understand at last what it really means to have no one and nothing but God. Sometimes the subway poor wander through the train speak-ing loudly, interrupting our smug self-centered silence. We are reading, we are thinking, we are silent; they are begging. They ask for change or a dollar perhaps if they feel lucky. But straphanger charity is always unpredictable. Accursed with misfortune, they ride side by side with the powerful and privileged while I, look-ing from one to the other, remember that poverty has many faces. I see it there, poverty, even among the rich, poverty of spirit and of morals, poverty of faith, bankruptcy of the soul. My heart is forced to consider the meaning of poverty in vows I took so long ago and the poverty I practice today, for after all some kind of poverty is essential to the monastic life. But everything is differ-ent now; I understand for the first time in my life the struggle for survival others must face. When I offer one of them the small and meager gift of a dollar or a dime, I know that I am here not for the purpose of teaching them but in order that I may learn. So different from the monastery classroom, this too is an education of the heart. When I left the monastery ten years ago, I fully expected to abandon forever the life I had known, for twenty-five years, the religious life. I thought I was headed for secular society, for free-dom and promise in a world without restrictions and restraints, away from the rigors of community life with all its pain and heartache. I came to New York City at the recommendation of the metropolitan. But, once here, I soon realized that I had only taken the nun out of the monastery, not out of me. All my experiments with other lifestyles served to teach me that monastic life was rooted far deeper and more intensely in my heart than I had ever dreamed. My spiritual journey continued 'far from the support of monastery routine, far from the view of the monastery community. May-.~une 1992 329 Mancuso ¯ ~1 Monastic Way in the World Indeed I found myself living alone the same monastic life I lived in the community. All I had read in years gone by concerning the Camaldolese in the West and ideorhythmic monks in the East began to make great sense to me. Could I survive spiritually as a monastic living in the world? I sought a spiritual teacher and could not find one. Then I found one, strange and unexpected, in New York City; not a per-son, but a phenomenon: this daily ride on hard cold rails of steel. The New York Subway System, harsher than the sternest spiritual father, pulled me from the gutter of despair in the dismal winter of 1981. It dragged me down the cold dark tunnel of despon-dency and forced me to choose between life and death. There I was forced to cling to God with all my might lest I fall from the subway platform by my own step and crash on the tracks below in the path of the roaring train. Ten years have healed that broken-ness. A new hunger awakened within me. A new spiritual jour-ney began as I recommited myself to the monastic way. My search for monasticism in the city led me to understand that what I needed was monasticism of the heart. I knew I could not go back before I grew up, and perhaps never. What I needed more than ever before in my life was an authentic spirituality, a genuine monasticism, for now I was a nun without a monastery, alone in a world I did not know or understand. My new cloister was the streets of the city; my new obedience, an obedience to reality and the obligations of survival. The cold, hard teacher I had found was the subway itself---with no name, no face, and no heart and demanding of me complete abandonment and total surrender to God. It spoke to me as surely as any spiritual teacher I have ever known. It spoke because my whole being was listening. I was searching with all my heart. That is what great spiritual longing does; it opens every fiber .of one's being. Then one can truly hear. At last. One listens best when no more escapes are possible. Every day, morning and evening, I found myself grappling with the mysteries of faith and reality, struggling to discern the presence of God in the secular world. The milieu of faith I had known in religious life and took so much for granted was far behind me now. I had to create one in myself if I was to retain a spiritual focus in my life. In the personless hands of this tutelage, there was no protection, no one to turn to, no arms to hold me faint with fatigue. Fear loomed up over the darkness of my soul like fog on the docks of South Street Seaport. In the beginning I 330 Review far Religiaus was angry, depressed and bitter. Confusion reigned where once I thought I knew my purposes. Conflict raged. Gradually, from daily meditation and interior prayer deep in the darkness of the earth as I traveled the subway system, there came the dawn of a soft, strong light which began to illumine the darkness of my spirit. I remembered words spo-ken to me long ago by my father when I was just a little girl: "There is no night so dark that you cannot reach out and take the hand of God." Slowly I regained perspective on the original purpose of my life, my spiritual journey. Is there, I wondered, searching my heart, the possibility of being an authentic monastic living in the world? And if there is, what shall it ask of me and how shall I answer? When the doors we have passed through are closed and locked behind us and those we have loved no longer speak our name, then indeed we must come to the truth or we shall surely perish. And if the truth should call us on alone, girded only with the armor of faith, with no assurances and no compan-ions to stave off the terror of the night, when there is no road back, we must carve our own road forward. When that which we have loved the most is forever lost to us, we must build a new tabernacle in the desert of the heart. This is the vocation of the monk or nun in the world. To bring to birth in the solitude of society an authentic monasticism of the heart, alone except for God and whatever he provides. Every morning I exit the train at Chambers Street and make my way up the subway steps. The stench of urine greets me, the first smell I perceive each day in downtown New York. I who love the warm richness of burning incense and the leaping flame of candlelight, I am thrust into this daily reminder of what is behind and what lies before me: the smell of the street and its treachery, the darkness of places where candles never flicker. I am Moses in the desert, forty years of wandering across the wasteland of Manhattan. Today I pass two Hasidim studying a subway map just outside the entrance of the train. One is bent with age, his white beard flowing over the collar of a shiny black coat. The other is young, unmarried, tall and blond with side curls fluffing out from under his black yarmulka and felt hat. They do not acknowledge me, a goy, though I pass within inches of their out- 'There is no night so dark that you cannot reach out and take the hand of God." May-~t~une 1992 331 Mancuso ¯ A Monastic Way in the World spread map. On Centre Street a Chinese peddler opens a stall, displaying his wares on two small sidewalk tables set by the curb. He and his wife sell woolen caps, scarves, sweatshirts, and pants. Their breaths steam like smoke in the windy street. Here on the next corner the Italian sausage man has been standing for several hours beside his concession wagon. Smells of sausage and sauerkraut overwhelm me as I pass, for the day is very young. I walk behind two black lawyers dressed in gray three-piece suits. They are deeply engaged in conversation with a white woman, also an attorney. She wears herself proud, this articulate lady; achievement and prominence like her gold earrings proclaim her success in a man's world. They head toward the courthouse on Centre Street carrying their serious leather briefcases with an air of profound importance. I think about pride and power and humil-ity and powerlessness. I think about the righteousness of law. A thin young man, alone and smiling, dressed in woman's clothing, sits on the bench at Thomas Paine Park, quietly hum-ming to himself. He is there every day, all day. Across the street a tall Hispanic man, handsome in his faded blue jeans and tan hooded sweatshirt, keeps his post with hand outstretched. He entertains passersby, juggling several coffee cups and telling humorous stories. Is he a fool for Christ's sake, or has he only learned to play the fool in hope of an extra quarter in his cup? When the morning crowd has passed and rush hour is over, he slumps onto a park bench and does crossword puzzles until later in the day when he will resume his trade, the daily round of beg-ging. I walk on toward Lafayette and Leonard Street. A homeless woman pushes a grocery-store cart which contains all her earthly possessions. She is wrapped in layers of rags. Near the corner of Worth Street, I notice the old cab driver, an Irishman with shin-ing blue eyes and stubbly beard. He is retired now to a life of penury, another beggar on the streets of the city. He sits on the park bench combing white disheveled hair just as he did yester-day, just as he will do tomorrow. What monk weaving baskets in the desert or writing music in a modern monastery knows greater mortification or penance than he? Soon he will change his wet socks no matter how cold it is. In the rain, in the sleet, in the snow, or in the sun I see him every day, his stack of reclaimed newspapers beside him. I wonder if he ever thinks of God, or must he always worry about his daily bread? I continue down Centre Street and lift my eyes to read words 332 Review for Religious inscribed high on the courthouse faCade: "The true administration of justice is the firmest pillar of good government." I think a lot about justice. Justice, mercy, and charity. Righteousness and law. I think about the government of our country, the government of the church and that of monastic life. I wonder about politics in places where politics should have no place, the house of God. I wonder if the hand of justice can ever reach beyond the bound-aries of political alliances, those in the world and those in the church. Does the true administration of justice happen anywhere, I wonder, and if so, when and where? Who renders justice in real-ity? Is the government of the church and that of monasteries in particular built on true justice and charity, or is it linked to the power of a few who have pleased their superiors and risen to high places? Who are the recipients of justice? And I, when shall I learn to be just? When shall I have the courage for justice and charity? Crossing the street before the light changes, I ponder the plight of those for whom justice never happens and charity is but a word, those in the world and those in the church. Now I head toward the large marble building at the corner of Lafayette and Leonard Street. Its dark charcoal .walls shine in the morning sun. It is here on the third floor that I work in the New York City Department of Probation housed in the Family Court Building. It is time now to concern myself with matters of crim-inal justice: domestic violence, restitution, probationer miscon-duct, probationer drug tests. My tasks are writing and analysis. I lay aside my morning reflections and commit myself to the day's work. It, too, has something to teach me. In the monastery I baked cheesecakes and bread, I built cabinets and furniture, grew vegetables and cooked for the community. I tended guests and prepared the hospitality we offered to strangers. Did that work dif-fer so much from the work I do today? Was it more purifying to my soul or more pleasing to God than these hours before the computer researching and writing about criminal justice? Who can say that one is somehow more pleasing to God than another? Is it not the heart that makes the difference?. Everywhere there is something to learn. Often have I looked into the eyes of a pro-bationer, understanding that we are all on probation in this world, all of us facing the opportunity to change our lives or not, and the consequences thereof. Nothing, it seems, is incapable of teaching us if we pay attention with our hearts. This is the way it is, five days a week, every week of the year. May-.~une 1992 333 Mancuso ¯ A Monastic Vday in the IVorM All about me are the signs God places in my path calling me back to himself over and over again. I gather up the fragments of the day, bits and pieces of reality, signposts and fellow travelers I have met along my way. I take them to my heart, where like candles they illumine the darkness of my soul. I pray for them as I pon-der what they have told me without speaking. I am jostled into awareness by the touch of their reality on my own. In seventeenth-century France a man named Vincent, now called St. Vincent de Paul in the Roman Catholic Church and considered by Western Christianity to be the universal father of charity, said to his first sisters--those early pioneer sisters in social service, for nuns until that time were always cloistered in monas-teries--" Your cloister will be the streets of the city and your chapel the parish church." On the streets of New York and beneath them, I have entered a new and different cloister, a spiritual one. It is not an enclo-sure; indeed, it is very open. Open to reality. Open to grace. The parish church is indeed my chapel. There in the sacred hours of Vespers and Divine Liturgy I come to understand what Vincent de Paul was talking about. It is a phenomenon of the last decades that numerous sisters, brothers, monks, nuns, and priests have left the enclosure of con-vents and monasteries and ventured forth into the world. For sure, many of them have completely turned to new lifestyles, abandoning the old. Some have married, others have entered paths altogether removed from that on which they first set their course. I am among another group, that of monks and nuns liv-ing alone in the world and striving to continue the monastic jour-ney started in community. Some may say that monks and nuns in the world cannot be monks or nuns at all. Perhaps so. Perhaps not. If monasticism is repentance and conversion of heart, surely anyone with goodwill who sets out on the path of repentance and conversion of heart is truly a monk, truly a nun. If monasticism is the search for truth and harmony in the universe, a search for God hidden beneath all the layers of reality that cover everything and everybody, then those who search are truly monks and truly nuns. If the habit does not make the monk and the essence of monasticism is seeking God above all things and striving to live the spiritual life with all one's being, then those who commit to this sacred journey--whether alone or in community, dressed in 334 Review for Religious religious attire or secular garb, recognized or not recognized by official ecclesiastical structures--are truly authentic monks and nuns. The riason of the choir is not suitable for the street, but the true choir robe of the heart is purity of intention, single-mindedness in faith, humility before God, ation. One need not live in a monastery to wear this authentic spiritual robe, and thus clothed on the inside of one's being, one is truly a monk, truly a nun. Yes, it is frightening to ~tand on the edge of the desert and know that absolutely there is no other way to pass. It is hard to go naked into the nigh.t of the spirit with no comforts, no road maps, no spiritual father or mother, no companions for sup-port or sustenance. Alone. This stripping, however, of everything we mistake for safety and security is the reality that makes us true monks and true nuns in company with those who have gone before us, the Desert Fathers of antiquity. I do not wish to compare one form of monastic life with and love for his cre- The true choir robe of the heart is purity of intention, single-mindedness in faith, humility before God, and love for his creation. another. I do not wish to contrast the merits of living in com-munity and living in the world. Rather, what I wish to ponder is the fact of the spiritual journey, the reality of the spiritual searcher whereve~ he or she may be. This inner journey never ends though everything may change. If we know that, whatever may have gone before us and whatever yet may come, there is no path for us but through the desert, no cloak for us but the mercy of God, no pos-ture but humility and repentance before his face, then we have sufficient knowledge to continue on the path. He will provide all that is needed. If we find ourselves aware that we have no road map, no comfort station, no companion to lighten our burden and cheer us along, how shall we find our way? Will fear and loneliness defeat us? Having lost or abandoned everything, the soul stands naked and empty in the face of its Creator. This is the moment of truth. Accepting our essential nakedness and littleness, we take our emptiness back to God. Kenosis. The outpouring, the emptying of our hearts. Everything we have done and have failed to do. We gather up the fragments of our lives and return them to the Lord. May-.l~une 1992 335 Mancuso ¯ A Monastic Way in the World Holy wisdom teaches us that everything lost in time will be recov-ered in eternity. Our task is but to seek the Master who calls us to the feast. Contemplating the mercy and terrible judgment of God, how shall we stand? Only in abandonment and complete surren-der, with no excuses and no demands except to pray: "Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses as we for-give those who trespass against us." When all the rest is taken from us or when we, like foolish children, have ourselves run from our Father's house, have nothing, we may yet have every-thing, for only faith, hope, and love remain, "and the greatest of these is love." I wonder as I wander the streets and subways of New York if the monastery is not really everywhere and monasticism everyone's journey. Over a Garden-Wall at Bambous Mission Ile Maurice Can He be jealous that I hear the music of men's loves swirling whirling over garden-walls dancing through the moonlit trees around, swirling whirling once again and around and out, now carried on the evening breeze mingling with the rustling grass and palms and shyly whispering leaves, now ebbing flowing on the turning tide of salty scented ocean air? Can He be jealous? of me? of them ? Or does He too plainly see and hear the kernel of man's pain and loss and disillusionment they waltz about? And yet He holds me tighter. Cothrai Gogan CSSp 336 Review for Religious COREY S. VAN KUREN I Leap Back Over the Wall tth le 9c5o0n ~Me n° ~ iacf~ d aid ~ni ~y _Cehi rgOh~i~ leeadr s.h ~nr r!eLfl ;c~ o0~ eOr ~eeaV idff' she recounts in classic style what occurred and what she felt as she reentered a world she did not know because of her "hiddenness" in religious life. In the past twenty-five years, many religious have left reli-gious life, and most others have experienced enormous changes in it. Many books and articles have been written about the emo-tional, psychological, and anthropological realities involved in such changes. These writings run the gamut from leaving reli-gious life altogether to changing one's status in a particular com-munity tokeeping the same status in another community with a different history, ministry, charism, or geographic center. Lawrence Rywalt CP, in the September/October 1991 issue of Review for Religious, lays out in fine fashion the realities of what goes on with those who are changing their religious life by pass-ing from a "community of origin" to a "receiving community." Throughout his article he uses terms like "a time of adolescence" to describe the mixed emotions one experiences upon entering the unknown. It is somewhat understandable to this reader, as one who is presently going through this process, that these terms are more than somewhat awkward; they may be harmful if per-ceived to be negative. Not only is there a lack of a "clear" canonical process for Corey S. Van Kuren OFMCap is currently in the reentry program of the Capuchin-Franciscan province of St. Mary (New York-New England). His address is St. Michael's Friary; 225 Jerome Street; Brooklyn, New' York 11207. May-~une 1992 337 Van Kuren ¯ I Leap Back Over the Wall The cycle of leaving/reentry can and perhaps should be perceived as a healthy pattern of living. defining this reality of "reentry," but the rarity with which it is perceived and coped with, let alone talked about, makes the use of analogy the only way to discuss it. There are no terms proper to this process, so we who exp.erience it and those who must deal with us are forced to speak in analogy or struggle to invent new ways of speaking about who and what we are. (This is as frightening as was the experience of Monica Baldwin in 1950.) In my own case, the entry/reentry process has happened a couple of times. I first entered the Capuchin Order in 1973 and left in 1981 before ordina-tion. I returned for a short stint and left again. In 1986 I was ordained a diocesan priest and now am in a reen-try program with the same province of Capuchins. I firmly believe that the cycle of leaving/reentry can and per-haps should be perceived as a healthy pattern of living. It is only through the ongoing struggle to find God's will that anyone of us is going to reach sanctity, the goal of any vocation, religious, mar-ried, or single. We need to call the emotions and behaviors they involve by their real names, instead of trying to liken them to any other experience of change. Leaving religious life is no't like divorce, an analogy often heard. Divorce usually happens after prolonged experience of anger, hurt, or at least a clear realization of irrec-or; cilable differences. My own exp~rienc~ and that of others who have talked with me is that we felt, or discerned, that the life we were leading was not what we were then called to, if indeed we ever were called to it. This is not to say that the feelings of loss were not real for us or that we did not miss the people or perhaps even the structures that w~ left behind, but the negativity of such feelings that divorce usually implies was absent. Likewise, to term the process of reentry a time of "adoles-cence" because it might conjure up feelings 6f "anger, despair, fear, chaos, denial, bewilderment, and malaise," as Rywalt sug-gests in his third stage, casts a shadow on the reality of these feel-ings as healthy or as progress or as worthy of an adult. In any event, the expectation of finding such negative feelings is pro- 338 Review for Reli~ous claimed more strongly than any thought of the possibility of feel-ing joy, peace, and a sense of "coming home"--which seems, at least to me, highly possible for those in the reentry process. Just prior to my ordination as a diocesan priest, at a meeting with Bishop Frank Harrison of Syracuse, I revealed to him one fear I had, that I was not sure that I was not called to religious life as I had previously believed and that I might feel compelled to try to reenter religious life in the future. I felt it necessary to speak to him of this feeling before ordination, and must admit that I feared his response might be that I should postpone my ordination until I was sure. Not surprisingly (in looking back and having come to know Bishop Harrison better), his response to me was wise, fatherly, and helpful. In essence, he assured me that this feeling was no reason not to go forward with ordination, pro-vided I was sure that even as a religious my call would include ordained ministry. In addition he laid no claim to knowing what God had in store for him in the future, let alone what the same God had in store for me. The question remains for me: Should it not be possible to change, to move in and through the structures of ministry as we seek God's will, without enduring the analysis of our psycholog-ical motivation, having our behaviors monitored or judgments made about the health or sickness of our actions? It seems to me that as Gospel people we would at least admit to the possibility of a religious motive, the reality of the call. We are too quick to give over to the sciences that which is spiritual, God centered, and not bound by the analysis of science. Is it a bad thing for men and women to constantly try to dis-cern God's will for them? If occasionally this discernment calls for change in structure or movement in or out of structures, need these people be subjected to an analysis of their health, a ques-tioning of their motivations, or must they live with the stigma of being unable to commit? I cannot predict whether my reentry experiment will be sue-cessful in moving me to "profess" again within the Capuchin com-munity. It is my deep hope and desire that it will. However it happens, though, I will neither judge the community nor myself at fault. Nor will I subject myself to questions whether I am mov-ing or not moving through "healthful" stages of development in the process. Prayer, the grace of God through living the Gospel counsels in common, sacramental grace, and meaningful ministry May-June 1992 339 Van Kuren ¯ I Leap Back Over the Wall will be the reality that decides for me and the community if this reentry is God's will. I find that reality comforting and assuring. I do not want to degrade the proper role of the sciences in defining the realities of our life. But as Christians, as ministers, as religious, we cannot give them positions they do not deserve. They must be seen in the proper perspective, and that means integrated with religious, spiritual realities--not taking their place. The leap back over the wall takes as much grace and courage as does the original leap over the wall. That grace and courage comes from relationship with a loving and forgiving God. Religious find this in the lives and faces of brothers and sisters more than in the psychological and scientific analysis of what is healthy or in other comparisons. A leap over the wall--a leap back over the wall--is always a leap of faith. Antiphonal With joy and gladness we cry out to you, Lord: with love and laughter make our hearts sing today from sunrise to sunset. Wisdom of God, be with us, ever at work in us: guiding our hearts and hands; our thoughts, our words, our works. How happy are we who dwell in your house, 0 Lord, forever praising you. Maryanna Childs OP 340 Review for Religious EILEEN P. O'HEA Why We Stay Aging, inadequate retirement funds, as well as the high cost of health care that paralleled and intensified these issues, were crises in religious life that Archbishop Rembert Weak]and of Milwaukee and the campaign inaugurated by the American bishops made public. This campaign aimed at bring-ing attention and monies to the plight of religious communities in America. It brought public attention to something else as well. Along with the assessments religious communities were making about themselves and the data provided by professional research organizations, it made plain that religious communities, with their median age then at 62 and rising, could be vanishing from the American culture. What to do? Get more candidates! Vocation ministry then became a recognized need in religious communities. These min-isters were given offices, cars, and money to explore solutions to this problem. What was once left to chance meetings of persons attracted to religious life now became a full-time occupation. When the problem did not get resolved with an influx of members, these vocation ministers started confronting both com-munity leaders and community members about their nonin-volvement in the process of attracting candidates. Religious communities then began to examine their collective consciences. Why are people not attracted to us anymore? Are we doing some-thing wrong? Are we no longer reflecting those religious values Eileen P. O'Hea is a Sister of Saint Joseph of Brentwood, New York. Presently she is working as a therapist and a spiritual director at Stony Lake Office Park; 2459 15th Street N.W.; New Brighton, Minnesota 55112. May-June 1992 341 O'Hea ¯ Why l~Ve Stay that attract people to want to live out the gospel in a religious community? Or have we been so coopted by materialism and our own needs that people see us as just another lifestyle with little connection to the holy and the truly religious? Or perhaps we are just not presenting ourselves, not advertising ourselves enough, not effectively reaching the public's consciousness? Not doing enough or not being enough to attract members was taken seriously by religious communities. But numbers of candidates did not increase. What religious communities found was that there were people "out there" who wanted to join them in prayer and gospel response, but not full-time. This gave birth to associate membership. These associates reminded members of religious congregations of the value and importance of community. They recognized, perhaps intuitively, that the joining of persons in faith and love is essential to the experience of realized love. Religious communities opened their doors and their hearts and found that the relationship between them and their associate members was mutually beneficial. Leaders and members of reli-gious communities latched onto this relationship as the hope for the future of religious life. This new hope was translated into a familiar organizational plan: designate a community member as director of associate membership. Give the person a car, office, and money to explore this undertaking. The beginning of associate membership brought a sigh of relief to communities. Many communities began to see associate membership as the answer to extinction. But, shortly after its ini-tiation, problems began to arise about how much "say" associate members would have in setting the direction for religious com-munities and whether they could vote for members for leader-ship positions or become leaders themselves. How much "say" would associates have about monies spent, or how much access would they have to these monies in time of need? Moreover, actual associate membership, however popular and good, is not weighted in favor of youth and vitality. Some of the individuals attracted to this membership share the same median age as the community with which they associate. Some of a dif-ferent age group visit for a while and then move on or are taken up with other commitments. Some, of course, stay and radiate to the established community their vitality, gifts, and deep spirituality. What Archbishop Wealdand did through the campaign he inaugurated was make thoroughly public what had been only 342 Review for Religious known in the privacy of religious communities. What happens to individuals when they finally express some fear out loud to a friend or therapist happened to religious communities. They could no longer deny or conveniently repress the facts of aging and dimin-ishment. When the private fears of religious communities were brought into the public forum, they became more real, more potent. The problems of aging, not attracting permanent membership, inadequate health care are realities known to members who have chosen to stay in religious life. These problems are compounded especially for women religious as they sometimes experi-ence themselves systematically oppressed by the institutional church. Women have been deeply hurt. In this ecclesial relationship, as in other personal relationships, the hurt can come only if the investment is deep enough. And it is precisely because their love for the church is so deep that women, as well as men, have experienced hurt from some of the structures, operating principles, and mind-sets of the institutional church and its representatives. Some of us have chosen to stay in religious life fully con-scious of the crises and dilemmas presented. Others have left for personal reasons such as fear about the lack of security religious life represents. Still others wrestle with the option of leaving as they look at the statistical data, their experience of the institu-tional church, and the logic of the situation. Some of the reasons people stay are very personal, some are theological, and some are mystical. My reasons for staying incorporate all of these and, I believe, represent some of the convictions and intuitions held by many. One of the sweetest gifts of religious life I have experienced is the friendships I have had and the bonding I have experienced with a group of women who are part of my community. Though I do not stay in religious life because of them, their presence is very important. If you could imagine us all standing in a circle facing a luminous light, dancing our way to that light, it would image this reality somewhat. We weave in and out of each other's lives in this dance of life, knowing the reality of the center and at times being that center of light for each other. Though I do not stay in religious life because of my friends, their presence is very important. May-~Zune 1992 343 O'Hea ¯ Why We Stay The ones not in my immediate circle I know belong to another circle of their own intimate friends. We do not experience the light in each other yet. But our experience in community and our interdependence over the years have brought us from mutual rejection or intolerance to mutual appreciation of the differences between our personalities and mutual caring about each other. Someday, after my negative intellectual and emotional program-ming has been purified, I will know that they too are light. In the meantime I am surrounded by women who, at some level, value the search and desire to be one with God and struggle to live this out in their ministry and personal life. In the novitiate our novice director told us that we would be given a hundredfold return. I could not then imagin~ what that could mean, but reflection on the past years says that is so. Although my life has been difficult at points, especially through the sting of a celibate lifestyle, it has also been life-giving and full of wonderful people and experiences that belonging to a reli-gious community has either allowed or facilitated. And although I can point to oppression in the past (religious life, like marriage and other vocations, was evolving in its understanding of itself), today I experience inner freedom. In spite of, or because of, belonging to a religious community, I have come to some under-standing of myself. I have had the opportunity, through prayer and commitment to spiritual pursuits, to know myself as loved and to realize that my being and the Being of God are the same reality. Some days I am more conscious of this truth than others; some days my own egocentricity obscures it completely. My longing to be one with God drew me to religious life. Frequently I was disillusioned by members of my religious com-munity. Each hurt, each disillusionment, forced me to peel away another layer of a psyche torn between finding its happiness out-side itself in people and things or finding happiness inside itself. It was a bright moment, a moment of light, when a deeper self was realized, a self that found within her the longing of her heart and then began to make peace and love with the external world. That process continues. Religious life helps the process. The same wise woman of my novitiate also quoted the saying about putting one's hand to the plow and not turning back. It is another reason for staying in religious life. It is not a matter of logic or assessment of security needs. Staying in community is a stance of faith. In faith I believe that my original desire found 344 Review for Religious form through religious community. The form might change or dissolve or might mimic all living organisms and go through a disintegration period before being reintegrated in a new form. I wafit to be faithful to my original commitment, which is a com-mitment of right relationship with God, of knowing and discov-eri~ ng the essence of this relationship. The task of all forms, including that of religious life, is to give expression to a deeper reality. The reality of God is beyond form. The place of faith is standing with others, community members and friends, and fac-ing together the deeper reality and not being overwhelmed as the form does whatever it needs to do. To be companioned in faith and love at this level of reality is to mirror the light, life, and love of a God who is beyond form. When sisters and brothers stand together at this place of faith, we redirect the energies of the world from its obsession with form to the Reality toward which all form is supposed to point. The creative energy of God is what we see reflected in our material universe, but the ultimate call of all human beings is to go beyond ~he reflection to the source who is Life and Being. As groups of religious unite in faith, facing into and sharing in the c~nter who is Love, they acknowledge the interrelatedness of all p~rsons in a communion of being that is beyond form. Perhaps the apparent disintegration experienced by ?eligious com-munities is part of the nec~essary evolution all living organisms go through. Perhaps it is taking us to a deeper experience of real-ity- the Reality beyond form. We, in our age, have evolved to a point where we are con-scious of being conscious. We are teeter-tottering on the edge of a new shift in consciousness. Members of religious communities have made great efforts to join with one another and to remove the psychological and emotional blocks that cause us to see our-selves as separated from each other. We have made great efforts to know ourselves at our deepest level. As we discover this deep-est self, we begin to realize that God "is" the centered self--that we (God-I) ire one. The realization of this oneness is an experi-ence that cannot be contained. It cannot be restrained by the form that is our body or the form that is religious community. As we recognize our being "in" Love, we begin to experience oth-ers no longer as other, no longer as outside ourselves--or sepa-rated from us. This is the beginning of communion consciousness. It is a way of being with each other that is beyond form. May-June 1992 345 O'Hea ¯ Why We Stay Why do we stay in religious life? We stay because the form that is religious life is still pointing us to the Reality our hearts have longed to be one with. We stay because our companions have been faithful to us and we want to be faithful to them. We stay because the greatest adventure of all, the awakening of con-sciousness to Reality, is about to happen and religious community can facilitate that awakening. We stay because we recognize love here. We stay because we know God's faithful love and want to respond with love. We stay because the form provides, 'through the experience of community and ministry, relationships of mutual love and sharing. We stay because we refuse to be intimidated by fear and a lack of security. We stay because we have put our hand to the plow and want to fulfill our commitment. We stay because our lives and commitment are about faith. We stay because in community the experience of God as Trinity is being realized and manifested in relationships that are life-giving, loving, and mutual. We stay because our intuition tells us that the experience of com-munion consciousness is about the many discovering themselves as one. We believe that the evolution of religious life is moving us closer to this discovery. We stay because true identity is realized in the discovery of the mutual indwelling of our being in the being of God and others. We stay because we want to witness to the Reality beyond form. Silence I cannot say that I no longer sing for in my heart, the while my lips are dumb, my song I keep. I only know that words no longer come to break the silent singing of a thing that lies too deep. Florian Reichert SSJ 346 Review for Religious MELANNIE SVOBODA When a Sister or Brother Leaves All of us in religious life have seen some of our brothers and sisters leave our communities even after many years. The circumstances leading to such a decision are usually complex and unique to each individual. But one fact is simple and universal: a person's decision to leave religious life has an impact on those who "decide to stay." The stronger the ties that bind us together in a religious community, the greater the pain and con-fusion when such bonds are, for all practical purposes, severed. This article explores some of the pain and confusion sur-rounding one sister's leaving. "Sue" (as I call her) is not a "real" sister, nor are these direct quotes from my own "real" journal. Such a reflection would be too personal for me to publish at this time. It would also run the risk of violating the privacy of a par-ticular individual's decision to leave religious life. Sue is rather, a composite of a number of i'eal people who have left my commu-nity and other communities as well. And though this account is fiction in the technical sense, it is nonetheless, I trust,-very true. It is my ho~e that these reflections will resonate with the thoughts and feelings of o~hers who have experienced a friend's departure from religious life. She tells me, "I'm leaving." And she wants me to be one of the first to know, before "it's announced." I sit in silence and disbe- Melannie Svoboda SND, a regular contributor to Review for Religious, resides at Notre Dame Academy; Route One, Box 197; Middleburg, Virginia 22117. May-j~ne 1992 347 Svoboda ¯ When a Sister or Brother Leaves Something is terribly wrong. Like someone has died or something, only I cannot remember who. lief in the front seat of the car. For a few moments I can say and do nothing. I am not surprised. Not really. Hasn't she been sharing her struggles with me these past three years? Didn't I suspect even a year ago that her searching and questioning would eventually lead to this: the decision to go? No, I am not surprised. But I am numbed. At least momentarily. Finally I say, "Are you sure?" And in the dim light of the car I see her nod and pull out a tissue, and I know she is crying. I reach over to her-- awkwardly over the gear shift and try to comfort her. I say her name a few times, and then I start to cry, too. For several moments we sit like that--me with my arm around her shoulder. No words. Just the sound of our soft crying. After a few moments we both sit up straight and blow our noses. In unison. We laugh at that and the laughter frees us to talk. Unhaltingly, she tells me of her most recent talks with her spiritual director, of her meeting with our provincial, and of her plans to tell her fam-ily. Everything seems decided. Everything is in place. She will leave in two months--on July 1. One day short of the twenty-eighth anniversary of her entrance into religious life. Of our entrance. I try to listen to everything she is telling me, but my mind is still stuck back there on her first two words, "I'm leaving." At the end I cry some more. I feel her hand gently on my back. I say, "I'm sorry, Sue." She thinks I mean for my tears. But I don't. "It's okay, Melannie. It's okay." But I am thinking: It is not okay. Nothing is okay. And, I fear, nothing will ever be okay again. When I wake up in the morning, I sense: something is wrong. Terribly wrong. Like someone has died or something, only I can-not remember who. I turn on the light. My eyes wince from the assault of its brightness. As my head falls back onto the pillow, "it" hits me: of course, she is leaving. How could I forget? As I slowly crawl out of bed, I feel sick to my stomach. And I know it's 348 Review for Religious not something I ate, it's not the flu. It's the thought of her going away. Later this morning she calls to ask me how I am. She asking me! I say, "Okay. How about you?" And we talk a little more. But before she hangs up she says, "You know, you cried the most. Of everyone I have told so far, you cried the most." And then she adds, "Thanks." Thanks? For what? For loving you? I go to school and I am the cheerful, competent, organized teacher you read about in all the educational journals. But it is all a sham. Inside I am dying--only no one knows. Her leaving is an oppressive burden I bear alone--for now--in secret. But maybe that is good, I think. For as long as nobody else knows about it yet, her leaving has an aura of unreality about it--which eases the pain a little. For now. o~o o~o o~o o:o I have known her for over thirty years--since we were fresh-men in high school. We sat next to each other in homeroom that year, and I liked her from the very start. She was cute, funny, lively, and (above all) good. Although we were typical teenage girls back then, we were somehow comfortable with bringing God into our more serious conversations. We were both terribly idealistic back then. My idealism nour-ished hers and hers mine. Although we made the decision to enter religious life independently of each other, we obviously influ-enced each other greatly. One month after graduating from high school, at age eighteen, the two of us entered the novitiate of the Sisters of Notre Dame--together. I decide I am taking this whole thing too morosely. I tell myself: "So, what's the big deal, anyway? You are acting as if she has died or something. That's stupid! So, a friend decides to leave religious life. So what? People make big changes in their lives all the time. "So, she is leaving. Don't make it soUnd so awful. Gone are the years when we called such departures 'defections.' Do not try to figure out her decision. Do not try to understand it. Accept it. May-~une 1992 349 Svoboda ¯ When a Sister or Brother Leaves Accept her. Stop moping. She's leaving. But life will go on--for her, for you." And just when such logic makes such good sense to me and I resolve to accept her decision with greater equanimity, she calls me on the phone and, after talking to her for an hour and hang-ing up, I cry again. Through my outpouring of words, I am celebrating her and our friendship. I talk,to Bob about her. He listens with concern and com-passion- as usual. He asks me all kinds of questions--about her, about me, about our relationship. And it is as if a dam has been broken wide open, and my words come gushing out like water. And I talk and talk. And in the talking I suddenly real-ize: I am celebrating her. Through my outpouring of words, I am celebrating her and our friendship. And it feels good. Then I tell him of my concerns for her, my fears. He listens attentively, gen-tly prodding with a question every now and then. And I am grateful, so grateful for this man who can elicit such an out-pouring from me and who is so respectful of everything I tell him. Finally he says, "You love her very much." A simple statement of fact. And I nod and smile at its obvi-ousness, and then I cry a little more and laugh, too. And later he asks, "Have you taken all of this to the Lord, Melannie?" And I stumble over my words, knowing I have not. At least not nearly enough. I tell Bob: "I keep thinking, 'God, if I love her this much, how much more you must love her.'" "That's good," he says. "That's good." And I leave Bob with a lighter heart and a clearer appreciation of my love for her-- and of my pain. And I wonder: When will I take all of this to God? Soon, I think. But not yet. I am worried about her. She is looking for a job now. She is talking about salary and taxes and insurance and getting an apart-ment. Almost all of our conversations these days are about her-- her and her plans. 350 Review for Religious It bothers me a little. Why? Do I feel left out? (I have plans, too!) Or is it that I want our relationship to return to an earlier form, to a time when our plans tended to coincide more? Whatever, I suggest to her: "The next time we get together, let's do something. Like go bowling or even to the zoo or some-thing, okay?" She says okay. I am relieved, for I am tired of talking about her, about "it." But as soon as I admit this to myself, I feel small and selfish. I do not understand her reasons for leaving. They are deep and go back many, many years. She still believes in religious life, she tells me. She still loves our community. And yet leaving us is something she feels she has to do. I do not understand, but I believe she has to do this. That belief makes her going easier for me to accept. o~o o~o o~o o.'o I loved her before we were Sisters of Notre Dame. I will con-tinue to love her afterwards, too. Yet I sense (and so does she) that there will be a change in our friendship--a significant change. After all, our shared commitment in the same religious commu-nity has been a vital part of our friendship. With that pai't gong, we are both wondering: How much wili our friendship be altered? And will the two of us be up to such an alteration? These past few days have been "guilt days." I keep thinking: Did I, as a friend, fail her? Is that why she is leaving? Maybe there is something I could have done that would have prevented her from making this decision. Maj'be .I could have been more sensi-tive, more caring, more supportive, more . Or did we as a religious community let her down? Is there something we as a community should be doing to prevent all these departures? Maybe we are overworked. Maybe we are focusing too much on ministry and not enough on each other. Maybe we are living the life all wrong.-Maybe., maybe., maybe. Bob says,"Youwomen really do get emotionally involved in each other~ lives." May-.~une 1992 351 Svobodu ¯ When a Sister or Brother Leaves I ask, "Don't you men feel like this when a brother leaves your .community?" "No," he says, "with us it is different. I do not think we feel it nearly as much as you women do." If what Bob says is true in men's communities, there is a part of me that envies men. But, then again, there is a part of me that feels sorry for them. Peg calls. She knows now, too. Finally someone in the com-munity I can talk to about it. "What do you think?" she asks me. And I tell her what I think. Then she shares with me her feel-ings. She is hurt. She is angry. She is worried about Sue. And now there is an added dimension to my own pain: seeing the pain Sue's leaying is having on others like Peg. But it is Peg's anger that takes me aback. So far I have not felt any anger, have I? Only hurt. Only worry. But now I wonder: Am I denying my anger? Am I letting Sue leave us too easily? Should I be fighting more to make her stay? Is my acceptance of her decision my way of lessening my own pain? Of easing my anger? I do not know what to think anymore. At the break at the meeting, Carol grabs me by the arm and pulls me out into the hall. "What's with Sue?" she asks brusquely. Not sure how much she already knows, I ask, "What do you mean?" Immediately I sense her irritation: (She has ne;cer been known for patience--or gentleness.) "Okay, Melannie, you can spare me the gory details. I know she is leaving. All I want to know is: Is she going to be okay?" I nod. "Yes, she is going to be okay." Carol seems satisfied--with that tiny scrap of information. I am amazed at how little it takes to appease hei', how little she wants to know. But maybe I am reading her wrong. Maybe she is just being extremely respectful of Sue's privacy. Whatever, she walks back into the meeting seemingly content. It was announced today. In a letter from the provincial. One brief paragraph. (Over twenty-five years of living religious life, and one short paragraph to tell the community of your leaving.) She 352 Review for Religious has asked for a leave "for personal reasons." Let us "remember her in our prayers," and so forth. How many times have I read such announcements? You would think I'd have gotten used to them by now. But I never have. I hope I never will. When I get the letter and read it, I cry again. How strange. I have not cried in weeks about "it." Why now? Then I realize: the announcement finalizes "it." There is no denying her leaving now, no turning back. It is a fact. And every sister in the community knows it now, too. o:o o:. o~o .:o Mary meets me in the hall, and I can tell by her eyes what she is going to say before she says it. "I just read the announcement about Sue, Melannie," she says softly. "And--and I guess I just want you to know: I am praying for her--and for you. I know it must be hard." She puts her hand on my shoulder. I smile. I say, "Thanks, Mary. Thanks." But two people are struggling inside of me. One is saying, "Yes, comfort me! Please comfort me!" while the other one is screaming, "Go away! I do not want your pity! Go away!" So, she is gone. Officially. Not completely, of course. She is still "connected" to us, for the church does not ordinarily permit a quick egress from religious life. Rather, it encourages a gradual one. She is still one of us, although living in an apartment now and working on her own. She will stay in touch with "us" by her contact with the provincial, with one of our local communities, and with a few of us, her closest friends. I tell myself, "She might come back. Some do, you know-- after doing what they have to do or whatever . " But I know in my heart: hardly anyone ever does. I call Sue. It has been weeks since we talked. The spaces between our conversations and meetings are getting wider, I notice. She is upset because she feels her leaving has hurt so many sisters. She knows some are angry with her. She says, "Why can't they see that my leaving is not an indictment against religious May-June 1992 353 Svoboda ¯ When a Sister or Brother Leaves life or their decision to stay? Why can't they just accept my deci-sion?" I say something like, "Well, maybe you have to give them more time, Sue. After all, you took years to make your decision. Now give them time to work through accepting it." I see Bob ~again. He asks about Sue. "Have you begun to deal with what effect her leaving is having on you personally--and your own commitment?" "Not really," I say. "I think I am still wallowing in the pain of losing her. And I am still too worried about her to think too much about myself. And I am so busy, too." ("Mercifully busy," I think to myself.) He listtns attentively and then says, "That's okay--for now. But it will come, you know. Sooner or later. You will have to deal with it: your own decision to stay." I know he is right. At the community meetings this week, I miss her very much. I expect to see her in the hall, to have lunch with her, to laugh with her. Only she is not there. Afterwards I call and talk to her, but I do not know how much of these community meetings to share with her, how much she wants to hear about what "we" are doing. And I sense I am beginning to see her as no longer a part of that "we." If only she were more sure of herself. If only I saw more direc-tion in her life, more certitude. But she still seems so direction-less, biding her time with this temporary job, still searching for who knows what. Everyone asks me, "How is Sue doing?" And I never know how to respond. If I say, "Fine," that is a lie. She is not fine. She is confused, lonely, and struggling. But if I say, "She i~ having a really hard time right now," that is misleading, too. It makes it sound as if she has made a mistake in leaving us. So, not knowing how to respond to their inquiries, I usually end up saying, "She is okay--but it is hard, you know." And my 354 Review for Religious voice trails off, and I think I have communicated the truth as well as it can be communicated. I love her. I care about her. I miss her. That is all I am trying to say, God. These jottings are perhaps too focused upon me and not enough upon her. But I entrust even that to your love as I try to entrust all things--especially Sue. She leaves. I stay. Why? Forever I have never lived in forever. ? where love is always and night never comes. Tonight, as I crawl into the arms of your Love, God, the idea of lasting forever causes a shudder thru my being. I have never known forever. ? here, everything ends. Day ends when night comes. and Yesterday is different from Today or Tomorrow. Here nothing is always the same. As I lie here thinking of your Love that lasts forever, two pains f!ll my being-- fear and desire, because I who had a beginning will join You in life unending. I have never known forever. ? Vowed to You, I promise to persevere unto death. Should I not say, ". into life"? Claire Mahaney RSCJ May-j~une 1992 355 BRIAN B. MC CLORRY The Integral Sabbatical transitions I woke very early on a June morning, restfully uncertain where I was and so checked the surrounds with interest, coffee and cigarette in hand, looking for a sound, geo-graphical answer. The sunlight was bright, the landscape clear: Holman Island, Northwest Territories, Canada, some three hundred miles inside the arctic circle. The third and final part of my sabbatical had begun. Holman seemed a far cry from the Jesuit Renewal Center in Milford, Ohio, where the sabbatical had started, a far cry from Cambridge, Massachusetts, where I had spent a semester at the Weston School of Theology. It was all a far cry from Leeds, England, where I had been Catholic chap-lain for the University and Polytechnic. Both in Cambridge and Milford I had been mildly surprised at the number of people, mainly religious, who were also on sabbatical. No doubt there is a tendency for sabbatical people to frequent the same watering holes when they are not wandering the earth visiting their con-gregation's communities. Sabbaticals are now common among religious, and in the religious press sabbatical pro-grams are widely advertised. The sabbatical now seems to be an unexceptional part of religious life in much the same way that, for some congregations, the tertianship--a kind of compulsory spiritual sabbatical--is an integral part of formation. This is clearly a new development. Brian B. McClorry SJ writes from Manresa House; 10 Albert Road; Harborne; Birmingham B 17 0AN; England. 356 Review for Religious In the 1960s sabbaticals were primarily a way of dealing with problem people or people with problems. It was, of course, a moot point whether the problem belonged to the persons involved or to their congregations. These sabbaticals were, in part, ways of responding to developments which were unforeseen, confusing, and frequently unwelcome. Sometimes they were mainly thera-peutic or disciplinary. There is likely to be a healing element in many sabbaticals, but it is right to allow sabbaticals a valid exis-tence on the far side of therapy. Recently the sabbatical has been reintroduced as a disciplinary measure by congregations and Roman authorities in an attempt to save an order or an ortho-doxy felt to be imperiled. Again the question remains whether it is the person or the institution that stands in need of a sabbatical. This, however, is not a question I will discuss here. There were and are "problem," "therapeutic," and "disciplinary" sabbaticals as ' well as those associated with academic work. But none of these is unexceptional and integral to religious life. The integral sabbat-ical, however, is new. Of course it may well be asked how integral to religious life sabbaticals really are, even at a more or less empirical level. Neither all congregations nor all religious make use of them. Indeed, when taken, not all sabbaticals are greeted in a sufficiently sabbatical fashion. There is the itch to justify or to decry, a ten-dency to view sabbaticals as a reward, or a vacation, or as a debt to be paid. That there are many kinds of response to the statement "I am on sabbatical . . ." is sufficient reason for discussion. Moreover, if religious make widespread use of sabbaticals, the diocesan clergy in the main do not. There are regional and denominational variations. Sabbaticals are commoner among diocesan priests in the United States than in England; the Methodist Church in England has a policy and a provision for sabbaticals whereas Roman Catholic dioceses in England do not-- except in a very negative sense. The questions raised both by sab-baticals and their absence are of widespread interest. In what follows I will try to examine way~ of understanding the "integral" sabbatical, using my sabbatical experience as a kind of case study. This approach inevitably will be limited, but not inevitably limiting. There are no absolute anecdotes: individual cases are also part of our social, cultural, economic, and religious history. Most serious questions will be left decently unanswered on the ground that closure is ordinarily premature. May-d~une 1992 357 McClorry ¯ Integral Sabbatical Timing and Validation One clear and important element in evaluating and preparing for sabbaticals is timing. Scriptural tradition designates every sev-enth year as a sabbatical year. The British province of the Society of Jesus provides for h sabbatical ten years after tertianship. Having a policy, provided it is not applied woodenly, allows indi-viduals to have and to plan for sabbaticals. It also allows the con-gregation to suggest them more easily. It is at the level of policy that the question of justifying sabbaticals emerges with particular force. Are sabbaticals.justifiable? As with many questions, this one is best approached not directly, but through the categories which are found helpful in discovering the kind of thing a sabbatical might be. There are, of course, lines of thought in the scriptural tradition. Originally the intention behind the sabbatical year was to give rest to the land, the vineyard, and the olive grove. This rest would give the poor and the wild animals a chance to eat (Ex 23:10-11) and allow debts to be remitted (Lv 15:2). There would be no scarcity, for the "sabbath of the land" itself would provide enough food (Lv 2 5:6). The help given to the poor was not to be confined to the sab-bath year (Dt 15:9), for this sabbatical value was of permanent importance and validity. What is involved here is a careful knowl-edge of the land, plants, and animals--and the perception that the workings of the economy both damage these and do violence to the community. People are squeezed out and forced into the powerlessness of debt. The sabbatical year is a piece of positive discrimination and a recall to the tru~ values and creative origins of the community. Parallels are problematic, but it may make sense to view the contemporary sabbatical in these terms rather than as intrapersonal refurbishing or as an opportunity for gain-ing skills or knowledge. To leave for a time the work we do may well benefit that work (there will be, it seems, no shortages), and both the work and the workers may recover their creative ori-gins. We may begin once more to perceive whfit is demanded and who is excluded both in our work and in our societies. In this sense a sabbatical may be an effective symbol of grace and faith, of justice and peace. The link between "sabbatical" and "sabbath" is obvious. Whether or not this is the beginning of a line of thought in favor of the "integral" sabbatical, the question of timing remains. Timing is not simply a matter of administrative convenience or 358 Review for Religious possibility, nor is it only a question of calendars, frequency, and opportunity. Some years ago I had a particularly trying period of ministry in a poor inner-city area. The ministry failed. The team failed to work together--a failure in which I was implicated deeply. Eventually the project was closed. I was hurt, angry, and had come to the end of the road. The off-road terrain was hardly visible. I scarcely believed I had energy enough left to start afresh any-where and so began to dally with the seductive idea of a sabbati-cal and its promise of escape. Fortunately my provincial suggested that I return to university chaplaincy work--a ministry I had known and liked. To my surprise I agreed quickly and easily and, in the event, found to my delight that the energy and interest were still there. The work therapy worked. After four years, how-ever, it became clear that my old and easy patience with under-graduates was wearing thin, that I wanted to spend my time with faculty, ecumenical questions, and issues affecting the institutions themselves rather than with students. It was not the end of the road, just time to go. Then the idea of a sabbatical reemerged, tinged with excitement, less seductive but more promising. The sabbatical promised to be less therapeutic or escapist than it would have been if taken earlier. It would be more positive, an affair of discovery. Sabbaticals are "integral" in more ways than one: they are better timed the more they are at one with the positive move-ments of our life stories and not just snagged on fragment.s of these narratives. Better timing, it seems, might also lead to a bet-ter content. Content and Desire Academics on sabbatical might well do research, though many academics speak of sabbaticals in terms not reducible to academic research. Nonacademics also might want to do research, to con-template steadily or ferret away busily in some area which comes into view as life-giving, deeply interesting, part of the emerging oudines of a mysterious but attractive future. On occasion it makes sense to learn skills that can be put to determinate use. Sometimes it is better to do woodwork. Clearly the content of a sabbatical varies indefinitely and could even include the possibility of a care-fully mixed cocktail. I wanted to have time, space, and the right environment for reading and writing. So much was a felt need. I also wanted to follow a program in spiritual direction. For many May-June 1992 359 McClorry ¯ Integral Sabbatical years I had given one or two directed retreats a year and won-dered what, if anything, I had learned from the experience and what, if anything, I imagined I was doing in this ministry. It seemed that retreat work of some kind was a likely future. For me woodwork was not a serious contender--although I can almost smell the i:eel of the grain. Behind the question of content--what, after all, shall I do?- there is the matter of imaginati6n and desire. What do I really desire? How free or frozen is the imagination that shapes our conscious desires? What are the desires that might free or freeze our imaginations? It does not do to link desire solely with what is conventionally good, for there is more to good than convention supposes. It does not do to mold imagination only by pi'agmatic realism, for realism can imprison as well as free our imaginations. Desire is a matter of discovery and strange meetings: a geography of uncertainty and power. Maps for desire do not exist, for it is a contemplative heuristic, a medium in which mystery is disclosed. It is not, however, an infallible heuristic. A year before he died, a friend who had many desires told me, "I have never known what I really wanted to do." Desir~ is not exhausted in the desires we know we have. In Genesis the naming of animals is, in a strange and unfem-inist narrative, part of a search that culminates in the joyful, real-ized completion of creation. God brings the animals to the man to see what he would call them (Gn 2:19). To stay long enough in prayer so that completing the sentence "I want." is done iri God's presence is to begin to name those elements of ourselves and our world which God brings to us for naming. We may name what is incomplete or destructive in us, or what lacks integration in our lives. In this naming w~ may be set free of what possesses Us, an exorcism in which the demons, if they return, have no real power. We are freed from d~fensiveness and become less timid. Alternatively, we may find that we name our positive desires and find in this naming that the truth of our seeking and welcoming is revealed. In both cases the disclosure of the God who, in Christ, dream~ with us brings with it freshness and discovery. The con-tent of a sabbatical, however practical or impractical it may be, is also to be discovered, found out, stumbled across, given. The content of a sabbatical should resonate with or express the desires we discover in us, desires which at the same time help us find out what a sabbatical--or a life--might be like. 360 Review for Religious Even though my imagination was thin, my desires were real enough: an intern.ship in spiritu, al direction at Milford and a semester of reading at Weston. I felt there was much to be dis-covered in the course of these programs that would be enjoyable and useful. I did not envisage any discoveries jolting my paradigms. At Weston I would go on a light diet and look for space. There were, however, some four months of the sabbatical which were as yet undetermined. The "third world" was not a strong contender. I had recently spent a hard but exhilarating summer in Guyana and, years before, had done my tertianship in India. A journey to Zimbabwe or to South Africa always remained a possibility. Whatever the status of my gawky ratio-nalizing, the truth was that I had no particular desire to go to the third world. I found I wanted to go to northern Canada. The experience would be new, which is one value in sabbatical planning; but it was the desire to go, rather than arbitrary novelty, that mattered. Certainly I wanted to be far from known places and defined expectations; there was the lure of the north with its sparse and spacious environment and its rather specialized attractions of ice and snow. That world would have a different scent: snow alters aromas. The Canadian north had always been attractive to me, and once or twice I had sniffed at its fringes. But although the desire to go was clear, its rationale was elusive, mysterious. It had to do, I thought, with going to a large, remote, and cold place in order, paradoxically, to unfreeze my imagination and creativity. The north was the right environment for that kind of event, in some sense the necessary place. Moreover, there was the remote but dramatic possibility of spending time in the Canadian arctic. I liked the dramatic frisson, expected something to "happen," and found that the prospect enhanced the attractiveness of the sab-batical as a whole. It gave a sharp edge to the enterprise and I looked forward to that edge. I got out maps and wrote to bishops. The desire had emerged and persisted. The provincial concurred; the bishops in the north agreed. So much for the discernment. I write, of course, after the event--with the heightened accu-racy and inaccurate overclarity which marks retrospectives. Sometimes, however, the content of a sabbatical is found largely Sometimes the content of a sabbatical is found largely in retrospect. May-3~ne 1992 361 McClorry ¯ Integral Sabbatical in retrospect. Characteristically I planned my sabbatical carefully. I was not going to drift into a sabbatical and discover afterwards that a sabbatical is what I might have had. My time would be spent well, responsibly, even originally. But planning has its times and seasons, and for many "planning" and "exploration" are hyper-active metaphors better replaced by "contemplation" and "wait-ing." A friend of mine spent the first three months of a sabbatical year waiting to see what he wanted to do; another spent some months after his sabbatical finding out what he had done and what his desires had been. It seems that the justification of sab-baticals and their content lies in the mysterious priority of desire and imagination rather than in efficient planning and declared good intentions. There is some need for discernment of desire and imagination, for neither whim nor designer image is a suffi-cient guide. Conventionally, the value of a sabbatical rests on enhanced skills, published research, a revitalized person. The generous mea-sure of truth in these pictures--which do express something of our desires--should not obscure another dimension. Sabbaticals are in some respects like parables.~ Jesus' parables carry many meanings and so have a capacity to interact in many and new ways with our lives and cultures, Sometimes the parables break under their own realism--ninety-nine sheep are left unprotected in the course of the search for the one which is lost. The parables both disjoint our ways of looking at and being in the world and open up new and energetic possibilities. On this basis it is mean-minded to settle effectivelyon one allowed description of a sabbatical, for example, "study leave." What matters is that sabbaticals are allowed to become parables, polyvalent narratives whose realism does not determine the story. Milford and Cambridge It is a commonplace that programs in spiritual direction include much "listening." Accurate, active, contemplative, prophetic, and holistic listening--with individuals and in a group--are all elements in a conversation. They are ways of dis-covering what may be going on in prayer or life--ways of finding a path that fits and may.lead somewhere. No doubt I learned and relearned some skills at Milford and welcomed the lines of inquiry and interest which these engendered. Such learning, however, is 362 Review for Religious notoriously not neutral or unaffecting. Listeners listen also to themselves; and, when they become conscious or aware of what they hear, there is the possibility and gift of a transformation which is not reducible to the addition of skill to skill. So I found, in a time of surprise, a change in me which was about trusting and expecting more from God. The coloration of my world shifted, its shape altered. The world I stepped into was a friendly place and the friend-liness was to be trusted. This perceived feature of the world was not a purely intrapersonal shift. Nor was it entirely an empirical affair. My father moved from house to hospital and from hospi-tal to a retirement home with his memory impaired. I returned to England for a few weeks to help the moves and to sell the house. The Gulf War started unbelievably and ended with unseeing cel-ebrations. Ten feet from me in a bus in Boston a man was shot in the face on Good Friday. But the world was friendly because God was in the world and the world was in God. This discovery did not invite me to rush into developing a theodicy or to reread the old ones, to put together friendliness and unfriendliness. If there was a theodicy, it would be rooted in, among other things, a complex attentiveness to the world, which was in God, and to God, who was in the world. Both the friendliness and the unfriendliness of the world called forth the look of friendly regard. This, the grace-ful face of panentheism, seemed new--a well-remembered face seen as if for the first time. This friendliness connected with specific matters in spiritual direction. In the language of Ignatius's Spiritual Exera'ses, I became better able to trust "consolation" both in myself and in retreatants. God, after all, relates to consolation and desolation in different ways. The relationship to desolation is real but entirely provi-sional; what characterizes God's action is consolation. In this friendliness it also became possible to sit happily with my igno-rance when giving spiritual direction. "Not knowing" was nei-ther a fearful void to be filled nor an affront to be denied. It was not an affront to competence but a resource to be tapped. To sit with ignorance was to be in danger of finding out, with the part-ner in the conversation, what good thing was happening, what shape hope might take. Such changes in ways of looking at and being in the world are at one with the Old Testament tradition on sabbaticals: a recovery of creative origins. They may happen in the staid, sup- May-d~une 1992 363 McClorry ¯ Integral Sabbatical portive, and challenging world of the Jesuit Renewal Center-- although Milford, Ohio, is not a location which of itself provokes radical insight. (Sometimes it seemed that many areas of our planet are invisible from Ohio.) But changes may also require places or environments which are marginal or shocking. A friend of mine spent most of his sabbatical working in a refugee camp in Thailand. What can be hoped for, wherever we go, is that changes include but are not restricted to intrapersonal health and survival. They will also include the world in which we ordinarily live but have only partly discovered. We may also hope to accept and to find that we do not control the narrative of the sabbatical--nor does the institution or environment in which we find ourselves. Such hoped-for changes, as in the Old Testament tradition, do not need to be confined to the time of a sabbatical, but can have a more permanent validity. With some loss of narrative control, I spent a few weeks in Montreal and Quebec City writing fiction (short stories in which I struggled with and for the narrative) before descending on Cambridge, Massachusetts. The semester at Weston was to be reflective: a few seminars for social reasons and an amount of reading. There was much to delight in, from Erich Auerbach's Mimesis to Annie Dillard's Teaching a Stone to Talk. The reading mattered. Someone said that Annie Dillard's writing evidenced "an amoral hospitality to experience." What price could the dis-cernment of spirits fetch here? Auerbach's literary criticism dis-tinguished a high style, quite divorced from the ordinary life of undistinguished people, from a style, also high, which found won-drous significance in commonplace lives and circumstances. If Milford was about trusting God in a world in which consolation and friendliness were to be trusted, Cambridge was about doing that in the ordinary present--the place where true hospitality lies. For some periods of time I had felt (often with good reasons) that there were important things to be done which were not real-izable in the job I had, the place I was in, the circumstances in which I found myself. Matters were unsatisfactory. Something of this feeling is, perhaps, an occasional inevitability. Life is unsat-isfactory in different ways and at a variety of levels. But a gap can open between the present and the significant future which robs both of any real value. Of a character in Raymond Chandler's The Big Sleep, the narrator says, "He was looking over into the next val- 364 Review for Religious ley all the time. He wasn't scarcely around where he was." The gap, of course, is about faith as well as presence. There can be a belief in a "god within" who does not welcome the present and a belief in a "god without"--usually absent from the present--in whose future greatness is promised. These two gods are awkward little idols who are not on speaking terms, but who conspire to augment the discomfort of the believer. In the disappearance of the gap between the present and the significant future, there is the loss of two idols, of two gods, and a being found by the one God. Monotheism turned out to be a very powerful affair. The disappearance of the gap, the exiling of the idols, helped me to let go of some things I would never do, however grand the significant future and the pointed present. This was not asceticism or realism, that doubtful consoler. In friendliness and free from the idols, I found there was no need to package myself, to tie up in well-wrapped parcels who I am and what I do. I become pack-aged for reasons of defense and success. But these energy-con-suming activities turned out to be not only harmful but also, and more importantly, unnecessary. The fears that provoked packag-ing became heavily relativized. John Macmurray has a striking remark about fear: The maxim of illusory religion runs: "Fear not; trust in God and he will see that none of the things you fear will happen to you"; that of real religion, on the contrary, is "Fear not; the things that you are afraid of are quite likely to happen to you, but they are nothing to be afraid of.''2 There may well be matters about which it is right and proper to be afraid, but the fear that provokes packaging turns out to be wonderfully otiose. What emerged in Cambridge and had been emerging in Milford was a new sense of integration or fit, not only in me but in how I am present in the world. I preferfit, with its sense of a curve fitting spot readings, a trail in the wilderness which finds the nature of the landscape, a saying in a conversation which res-onates and reveals. "Integration" is a touch static and inward. The appearance of the fit had precisely the quality of exploration and discovery--exploration within and, at one with that, explo-ration of the world. A man lies bleeding in the aisle of the bus, sol-diers pray for peace as the Gulf War ultimatum runs out, people have the glow and the shock of the Holy Spirit on their faces, the books are in the library, the seminar sparkles, and the cold May-June 1992 365 McClorry ¯ Integral Sabbatical in Quebec City gnaws the bones by the frozen St. Lawrence out-side the first Jesuit house in Canada. In all of this idols vanish, the world has a new curvature, and God dreams and surprises. Sabbaticals are times for heralded and unheralded exploration and discovery. These are prime sabbatical hopes and valid extrasabbatical values. Going to northern Canada, to the remote places, seemed like an appropriate continuation of this journey. It had also the character of a celebration. Yukon and Northwest Territories From one point of view, I went north in order to "supply" in parishes and on mission stations. It would be a time of much trav-eling and short stays. As the sabbatical proceeded and the time for departure drew closer, I found that what I wanted was simply to be in the here and now, in that environment, with those people. To be present in a friendly, contemplative, unpackaged, and reflec-tive fashion was what mattered. I did not want to undertake a study tour or become a tourist. Nor did I want to stay in one place "working" or creating a proactive availability. For this period, rootedness was not a value. Staying wherever the bish-ops3 suggested would keep me free of programs, encourage a being present which had little predetermined character--and yet would allow me to give myself and others a ready and real account of what I was doing and why I was there. Performing a small ser-vice was a satisfactory blessing and a gift I needed. I also wanted to look at the landscape and to see what hap-pened when I looked. The environment, I thought, would announce itself in ways which could not be honored simply by going for a walk. From this viewpoint people were secondary, but there is an environmental dimension inseparable from human life and it seemed that the native people would be at one with their environment. That people were secondary in my immediate inter-ests was not a dismissive attitude. So I looked at the landscape-- from the ground and from the air in light planes. In Yukon Territory it turned out to be difficult to look steadily at the moun-tains, valleys, lakes. What was there remained veiled by a prodi-gal facticity, and I had to set myself repeatedly not to turn aside. To sit' with this ignorance was also difficult. "This coast is too beautiful," said a man in the Vancouver airport to a friend; "get me another beer." Eventually the season of looking (after winter 366 Review for Religioto and before summer) itself turned out to be curiously privileged. The mountains disclosed more of themselves when their features were picked out by a light snow cover than when blanketed by heavy snow, or as free of snow as they might be in the late sum-mer. All seasons are privileged and so--also and therefore--was this present time. Eventually it became possible to see shapes, colors, and variations--to pick out the crude outlines of the geol-ogy. At what seemed an infinite cost, it became possible to look steadily. The startling landscape and harsh climate provoked ques-tions. Although the land is beautiful, some of the "southerners" who have come to stay cannot tolerate the winter isolation and depression. The land is wonderful and the energy people expend relates them closely to the environment; but mining marks the landscape. The slag heap grows huge in the middle of the valley by the mine in Cassiar; the tailings continue to mark the Klondike. But in Elsa, a ghost mining town, there is no human activity. The trees, lynx, and martin--the original inhabitants--are beginning to reclaim their territory. To what does this expenditure of energy and ingenuity relate? Sometimes--often--the energy is not expended. Without employment the choices seem to be contem-plation, alcoholism, activism, or hibernation. But the southerners who come and stay--or who return with regularity--seem to be larger and more significant than I imagine they would be if they had remained "outside." It is as if the landscape gives them value and importance or allows their significanFe to emerge and flour-ish. Some come north for a time of healing or to step away from unaccommodating circumstances; others are on the run and bring their pursuers with them. At best there is more than eccentricity and escapism. Lives are lived with old values brought from the south which are given room and enhancement by the land; new values are recognized and welcomed in small towns in the moun-tain wilderness. Strong views coexist with tolerance, showing a respect for people similar to the necessary respect for the climate. At times there is scant respect for environmentalists, who are seen to have a relationship with the country and the animals which is thin and unreal compared to that of miners, hunters, and trappers. Yet downstream from Whitehorse the waters are polluted. The pollution amazes: the Yukon, though twice the area of the United Kingdom, has a population of only about thirty thousand. Despite the invitation and the rewards, I found it difficult to May-~t~une 1992 367 McClorry ¯ Integral Sabbatical sit, to be, to contemplate, and see. My head, eyes, and feet were always in danger of being drawn away toward the future or toward present effectiveness. There was the ridiculous itch to justify how I spent my time here, in one of the most privileged environments on earth. To look, to appreciate and hear, were not more impor-tant but, rather, prior necessities. So much, it appeared, would be true for me also in the United Kingdom. There, too, I would need to discover how to look and listen. Eventually these dis-tracting energies, these pieces of unbelief, became insubstantial. Sitting in the dust--the gold dust--of Dawson acquired power. What mattered were walks along the banks of the Yukon River, taking care to identify the ducks. Surf scoters! This identifying and naming were not violently dismissive (a "that's that and what next?" attitude) but allowed what I saw to become part of the public world, made it shareable and so part of a communal promise. In some places the forests were thin. It was possible to move through them without following a trail or struggling through the undergrowth and fallen trees. Twice the bright' bark of the birch trees seemed to give light. The forest was lit from within: an event as unexpected and as usual as a fox crossing the road. I left the Yukon for the Northwest Territories. The flight from Whitehorse to Yellowknife exchanged vertical country for a horizontal landscape: a flat, flat land. Whitehorse, in mountain-ous country, has few buildings over three stories; Yellowknife, in a terrain that scarcely undulates, is full of high-rise buildings. So do we mark in our architecture our estimates of ourselves and our relationship to the land. The short Yukon spring, when all the trees came out in leaf during one afternoon, also vanished. I flew to Victoria Island, well north of the arctic circle, where there are no trees. It was snowing at Coppermine and Cambridge Bay, the snow flung horizontal by the wind. The frozen bay and the tundra do not make for "beautiful country," but they are exhila-rating: some snow remains and there are occasional, new flowers close to the ground. I see it as keenly and as vividly as the jaguar I saw in a Guyanese village two years ago. The twenty-four-hour sunlight and the intricate flatness of the land, heaved up into flat-topped rock formations near Holman, enliven my tentative pres-ence in these astonishing places. Suddenly the tundra is a place for happiness.4 There is excited wonder at the native people leaving their 368 Review for Religious houses and going to live in "camp" or "on the land" as the win-ter subsides, at the sleds, skidoos, and boats lining the bay and half covered in snow, the profusion of dog lines. There are the inviting enigmas of the snow and ice (color coded like the houses, where the color gives information about origin and ownership), the wreck of Amundsen's Maud. I walk by houses in spaces which are hardly streets, greeting and being greeted, enjoy the camps, am on holy ground. People here do not live "off the land" like Europeans on safari in what became African colonies; they live "on the land." Certainly they do not have "a place in the country." Marie Zarowny, interviewing the Dene and Inuit peo-ple about their political, economic, social, and cultural concerns, found that these were, for the people, inseparable from spirituality: "We are deeply spiritual and our spiritual power comes from the land . Our spirituality is tied in with the animals.''s I found, in this land of the Copper Eskimos,6 a desire for a project, a Gospel activity, and began to sense something of what it might be as I w.alked the tundra, cut inland by the lakes and pancake-topped striated banks, as I prayed in 'the mornings. It is to live and explore the belief that God in Christ is active in the middle of' our creativity and destructive-ness-- and to do so partly in terms of neglected areas of Ignatius's Spiritual Exercises. The context for this would be ecumenical. The people involved most likely would be marginal in ecclesiastical and social terms. Maybe something of this could be said in pub-lic language. I imagine a thin book as sharp, bright, and useful as a razor. The idea is not new. What is new is the tangibility given an idea by the land. The book does not itself matter. What counts is the invitation to live and move in this way. So much is a possible event, the gift that is also a product of looking and sit-ting with ignorance, of listening and friendliness. It is frail but real. Cautious at first, a caribou crosses the trail and moves off across the tundra, splashing through the meltwater and covering the bare ground and remaining patches of snow at a determined trot. An arctic hare appears, each hair individual and alive, crouches down ten feet away, and remains still, long-eared, and eye to eye. What mattered were walks along the banks of the Yukon River, taking care to identify the ducks. May-June 1992 369 I fly south of the arctic circle to Yellowknife, for two weeks in the parish--weeks full of conversations. Then I go on to Fort Smith, by the Alberta border, for a similar two weeks. It is good to sit by the Rapids of the Drowned on the Slave River watching the pelicans, the birds clearly at home in the spilling and swirling waters. Living "on the land" spoke of ways of living in the United Kingdom. Waiting for the looked-at and walked-over landscape to disclose itself speaks of a wider connectedness, a solidarity. I remember the six Jesuits and two women murdered in E1 Salvador on 16 November 1989. Later I fly north again, north of the cir-cle, to Inuvik. There I wonder once more about space and people: the Northwest Territories are larger than Western Europe and have a population of about 55,000. I do not know what this con-trast might mean or what it is to populate or overpopulate the land. In a short while I will exchange these huge and empty spaces for my own overcrowded little island, where every piece of land seems like an archaeologist's find. Meanwhile there is the Mackenzie delta to see--the delta of the Decho, to use the Dene name--and the small settlement of Arctic Red River to visit. But sabbatical time is running out. When I arrive back in England I will have spent some four months never passing more than two weeks at a stretch in any one place. Afterwards It is usual to say that those who travel undertake an inner journey as well as an outer journey. Covering distance, when the travel is a pilgrimage, is a metaphor for a change of mind and heart. Explorers explore also themselves and their own cultures. Similarly the landscape, the land on which we put our feet and live, is an exterior landscape which affects and is affected by our interior landscape. Barry Lopez, contemplating the "bleak and forsaken" aspect of Pingok Island in the Beaufort Sea, writes: The prejudice we exercise against such landscapes, imag-ining them to be primitive, stark, and pagan, became sharply apparent. It is in a place like this that we would unthinkingly store poisons or test weapons, land like the deserts to which we once banished our heretics and where we once loosed scapegoats with the burden of our transgressions.7 Happiness, however, had been given on the undistinguished tundra. The "land" had become a metaphor, a mnemonic, partly 370 Review for Religious learned and partly obscure, which held attractive promise. This was not distant from the care of the land in the Old Testament sabbatical tradition; it was close, also, to the concern for people and society, for the excluded, which is integral to that tradition. The landscape of Victoria Island and the Decho had reminders, in the oil storage tanks needed for winter warmth, of a different economy, other concerns. The land-scape would also include the cityscape, the interre-latedness and demands of first-world economies. Desire and fear both go into the making of cities and are evoked by the complexity and coloration of their shapes, just as they affect and are evoked by our perception of the land. The city includes and excludes, vivifies and oppresses--and needs as much care in its contemplation as does the tundra in the arctic and the mountains of the Yukon, as much set-ting of ourselves not to turn away. In the city, in our quotidian economies, the invitation is the same: to look steadily, to sit with ignorance, to trust the friendliness, to find, in this also impossible terrain, the outlines of the kingdom as drawn in the few "remembered" words of Jesus. Back in England, in Birmingham, there are vivid memories of smokehouses and camps, mountains and snow, the tundra and the frozen sea, mosquitoes and black flies, the particular people and their traditions. The coffee-lubricated conversations continue to echo. The tundra, I think, was easier to look at than Birmingham. But the tundra invites a fuller regard for my own place, these islands off the coast of Europe, and speaks of new possibilities. The landscape of the Yukon speaks of hoping for what is more and larger than is admitted in other, more usual, locations. Solidarities beckon in a welcoming fashion. A sabbatical is a way of returning to one's own place. The difficulty of all this is clear: "The differ-ing landscapes of the earth are hard to know individually. They are as difficult to engage in conversation as wild animals.''8 Nonetheless, to think of a world without wilderness is to be full of disquiet. For wilderness--living "in the land"--was integral to Milford and Cambridge, and is part and parcel of where I am now and where we all are. Explorers explore also themselves and their own cultures. May-June 1992" 371 Notes ~ In what follows on parables, I am indebted to James Crampsey, "Look at the Birds of the Air ." The Way, 31, no. 4 (October 1991): 286-294. 2 John Macmurray, Persons in Relation (Adantic Highlands, New Jersey; first published by Faber and Faber, London, 1961), p. 171. 3 Thomas Lobsinger OMI, Bishop of Whitehorse, and Denis Croteau OMI, Bishop of Mackenzie-Fort Smith--to whom I am very grateful. The Yukon and Northwest Territories are ordinarily a Jesuit-free zone. 4 A time of happiness, if not frequent, is at least commented on often enough for it to be by no means unique in this kind of terrain. See, for example, P. G. Downes, Seeping Island (Saskatoon: Prairie Books, 1988). The happiness contrasts with, but is not provoked by, the harshness of the country. Imprisoned by "a relentless wind of eight days fury," Downes is told by his partner "You do not 'hope' in this country; you do not hope, you just do the best you can" (p. 63). An explanation is given in a foot-note: "What he means is that 'hoping' is a passive state, and that you must be physically and mentally active in this type of situation." This seems also about right when hoping in God. s Marie Zawowny, "You Can Help Us to Become Strong Inside: Discerning the Direction of the Church with the Dene and the Inuit," Insight: A Resource for Adult Religious Education, no. 4, 1991, National Office of Religious Education, Canadian Conference of Catholic Bishops. 6 "Copper Eskimo" was the phrase I heard. Local people do not always use the the more favored general name, Inuit--"the people." A fine account of life with the Inuit of the area is given in Raymond de Coccola and Paul King, The Incredible Eskimo: Life among the Barren Land Eskimo (Hancock House, 1989). The work was first published by Oxford University Press, New York, in the early 1950s under the title Ayorama; the new edition is fuller and uncensored. 7 Barry Lopez, Arctic Dreams: Imagination and Desire in a Northern Landscape (Picador, 1987), p. 255. See also the chapter "Landscape and Narrative" in his Crossing Open Ground (New York: Vintage Books, 1989). 8 The continuation of the quotation noted in n. 7 above. 372 Review for Religious PHILIP L. BOROUGHS Using Ignatian Discernment work, ministry, or living arrangements. Diminishing energy, feel-ings of boredom or of being taken for granted, or an emerging desire for new challenges can signal a need to reappraise one's situation. Obviously, these times of transition are unsettling, and they can be stressful as one begins to let go of the security of the familiar and searches for new clarity and direction. However, these periods also can generate new possibilities and a renewed sense of responsibility for one's life. At times such as these, the Serenity Prayer of Alcoholics Anonymous seems particularly appropriate: "O God, grant me the courage to change the things that I can change, the serenity to accept the things that I cannot change, and the wisdom to know the difference." Sometimes circumstances warrant a fun-damental change in one's life, while at other times a change of attitude or behavior seems mor4 appropriate. As one critically reviews his or her situation and assesses available options, one wisely might wonder whether there are any norms or principles to help one choose among the options. In the Spiritual Exercises St. Ignatius of Loyola offers a num-ber of principles for discernment which can be extremely useful for those entering into a time of transition. One of the major goals of the Exercises is to assist those who Philip L. Boroughs SJ may be addressed at 621 17th Avenue East; Seattle, Washington 98122. May-June 1992 373 Boroughs ¯ Using Ignatian Discernment undertake them to make the right life choices. The principles of discernment reflect Ignatius's own experience of prayerful decision making, and a brief review of the major transitions in his life will offer a context for his insights. Ignatius's Life On 20 May 1521 Ignatius was wounded in the battle of Pamplona, and in the long recuperation period which followed, a fundamental reorientation of his life began. Over the next sev-eral months, as he contemplated his future, Ignatius became aware of different interior movements affecting him. Gradually he rec-ognized the patterns of these interior movements, noting that certain spirits or desires produced peace and hope while others, which initially delighted him, eventually left him sad and depressed. As a result of these fluctuations, Ignatius decided to fol-low the spirit or direction which ultimately consoled him, and thus his religious quest began in earnest. Abandoning his life as a soldier and courtier, he moved to Manresa and formally commenced a spiritual journey which grad-ually helped him to identify and understand his limits and dis-oriented attachments as well as his deepest dreams and desires. After months of intense prayer and penance, mystical experiences, and interior growth, he embarked on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem. There he hoped to spend his life visiting the holy places and help-ing souls. However, after he had been in Jerusalem only nineteen days, the Roman Catholic authorities ordered him to leave. The political climate was tense, and they did not want to assume lia-bility for this questionable religious enthusiast. Accepting their legitimate authority over him, Ignatius con-cluded that it must not be God's will that he remain in Jerusalem. He decided that he needed further education if he were to serve God's people in some other capacity. He returned to Spain and began studying grammar at the University of Barcelona. Two years later he advanced to study the humanities at Alcalfi. After many months, however, his austere lifestyle and his growing rep-utation as a lay spiritual director caused such controversy that he was investigated by the Inquisition. Mthough exonerated of any wrongdoing, he was forbidden to continue his spiritual ministry. Consequently he moved to the University of Salamanca. There the same pattern was repeated, and once again he had to revise his 374 Review for Religious plans. Ignatius then transferred to the University of Paris, where he spent the next seven years earning his bachelor's and master's degrees. These were intense years of study and spiritual ministry, and they were also years when he gathered some lifelong com-panions who shared his ideals and his commitment to service. As his formal education drew to a close, Ignatius became seri-ously ill and was advised by his doctors to return to his native country to recuperate. He journeyed home with the understand-ing that he and his companions would reassemble in Venice once he had recovered. From there they hoped to gain passage for Jerusalem, where they would spend the rest of their lives in min-istry. Ignatius and his friends vowed to wait one year in Venice for passage to Jerusalem; but if they could not arrange their trip dur-ing that time because of political turmoil, they would travel to Rome and place themselves at the service of the pope. Since no ships left Venice for Jerusalem that year, they proceeded on to Rome in keeping with their vow. As their reputation for holiness and ministerial effectiveness spread, requests for their services began to arrive from various corners of the world, forcing this rather loose-knit group of friends to consider the nature of their commitment to each other. After weeks of prayerful deliberation, they decided to form a reli-gious community and elected Ignatius to be their religious supe-rior. Although he initially declined the position, subsequent prayer and consultation with his spiritual director moved him to accept. He spent the last fifteen years of his life as the superior general of the nascent Society of Jesus. During this time of rapid growth and development, Ignatius not only provided this new community with inspired leadership, but he also prayerfully drafted its con-stitutions. With the exception of his seven years at Paris and his final years in Rome, Ignatius moved fre.quently throughout his adult life. His constant effort was to discern and follow God's will within the social and historical realities of his time. A!though he was the recipient of many mystical graces, few of them provided him with specific instructions about the decisions he faced. Rather, these mystical experiences confirmed the general direction of his life and God's ongoing companionship with him. Decisions about particular choices he faced required prayer and discernment to discover God's will. Ignatius's early lessons in the discernment of spirits, his respect for human learning and reflectivity, and his May-~Tune 1992 375 Boroughs ¯ Using Ignatian Discernment courage to act once he felt he knew what God wanted of him facilitated his prayerful decision making during the numerous transitions of his life. Predispositions for Discernment Ignatius's religious experience and his Spiritual Exercises sug-gest that, if an individual wishes to enter into a process of dis-cernment in order to discover God's will, certain predispositions are necessary: interior freedom, sufficient knowledge of self and the world, imagination, patience, and the. courage to act respon-sibly. Without these graces, true discernment is not possible. Interior Freedom: The first paragraph of the Spiritual Exercises clearly asserts that interior freedom is a sine qua non for finding God's will: "We call Spiritual Exercises every way of preparing and disposing the soul to rid itself of all inordinate attachments and, after their removal, of seeking and finding the will of God in the disposition of our life for the salvation of our soul" (SpEx 1). When Ignatius speaks of ridding oneself of inordinate attach-ments, he can be very explicit. In the Meditation on the TWO Standards, he identifies inordinate attachments primarily as temp-tations to riches, honor, and pride (SpEx 142). Today we might describe them as an attachment to possessions or a specific lifestyle, a desire for recognition or a preoccupation with the opinion of others, and an insistence on being in control of one's life or radical self-sufficiency. Ignatius believed that attachments " ~uch as these would so condition one's life that one's relationship with God would be seriously compromised and one's freedom to find God's will would be lost. During times of transition in a person's life, other variations of inordinate attachments also can surface. For example, at the first sign of serious difficulty, some people immediately search for new living or work possibilities, fearful of the asceticism required for long-term commitments. Others, feeling misunder-stood and unvalued, find it easier to cling to chronic anger and bit-terness than to identify and address the source of these feelings and move to a more integrated life. Still others become so com-pletely preoccupied with their own personal growth that they ignore the legitimate needs of those whose lives are intercon-nected with theirs. Whatever form an inordinate attachment takes, 376 Review for Religious it can effectively inhibit the possibility of true discernment because it centers one's life in oneself rather than in God. Knowledge: True spiritual freedom or detachment depends on self-knowledge. More than just an understanding of one's limits or even one's patterns of temptation, self-knowledge requires a pro-found awareness of one's gifts and one's deepest desires. However, during times of transition, individuals frequently say that they do not really know what they want. This is often part of the initial unrest which introduces a need for change. But it also can be an invitation for individuals to reclaim their deepest desires, those essential values which give ultimate meaning to their lives, their relationships, and their involvement with the world. For example, when one becomes overwhelmed juggling the increasing demands of family and career, or exhausted by the mounting expectations of one's ministerial position, or seriously disillusioned by institutional intransigence, identifying again or reformulating one's deepest desires provides a starting point for making new choices. Articulating one's deepest desires helps one to prioritize commitments and can provide some perspective for letting go of tfiose concerns which jeopardize whfit is more impor-tant. Sometimes people come to realize that .they have to r~con-sider tfieir original life commitment because of s.ubsequent choices they have made over the years. Others may discern that their deepest desires have not changed, but their they have to find a new oi" healthier way of living them out. S~ill others may experi-ence a call to liv~ out their original commitment even more rad-ically. Reapp~:opriating one's deepest desires is a critical dimension of self-knowiedge. However, for Ignatius self-knowledge was not enough. He spent many years studying in some of the most respected univer-sities of his day and achieved an advanced degree in theology because he believed that education was a critical component for ministry. He even rediaced his intense spiritual activities during his university years because he discerned that his ex[ended prayer was interfering with his con~mitment to study. Ignatius emphasized education as a significant component in the formation of young Jesuits and as an important ministry of the Society of Jesus because through it he promoted the ongoing transformation of individu-als, church, and society. Consequently, not only knowing oneself, but also knowing the complexities of any given situation, pos- May-June 1992 377 Boroughs ¯ Using Iffnatian Discernment sessing a critical understanding of systems and structures, and having sufficient education for one's current ministry or some new possibility are critical dimensions of a discernment process. Imagination: Knowledge in concert with imagination can produce new possibilities. Ignatius clearly manifested an imaginative approach to ministry through the creation of the Society of Jesus and its novel structures and methods. He also used the power of imagination in his approach to prayer. Through an imagina

Issue 63.2 of the Review for Religious, 2004. ; 2004 Review for Religious helps people respond and be faithful to God's universal call to holiness by making available to them the spiritual legacies that flow from the charisms of Catholic consecrated life. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published quarterly 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 ° St. Joseph's Provincial House 333 South Seton Avenue ° Emmitsburg, Maryland 21727 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2004 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permissign will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religigus. view 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 Tray Gramn~ Judy Sharp Sr. Raymond Marie Gerard FSP Eugene Hensell OSB Ernest E. Larkin QCarm Louis and Angela Menard Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla sJ Miriam D. Ukeritis csJ QUARTERLY 63.2 2004 contents 118 134 143 spirituaO wisdom Keeping a Balance: Contemplation and Christian Meditation Brian V. Johnstone CSSR proposes that some form of active vocal prayer may well go together with contemplation. Faith Seeking Understanding: Spiritual Direction's Sapiential Function Dennis J. Billy CSSR explains how spiritual direction is a divine (but also human) art that helps us "pray in truth" and come to an intimate personal knowledge of God. Windows of the Soul: Walter Ciszek SJ George Asehenbrenner SJ relates the incident in the life of the Jesuit Walter Ciszek that gave him the faith-filled freedom to survive twenty years of Communist prison. 148 158 men oring Merton and a Spirituality for Millennials Fred Herron proposes Merton's retrieval of the riches of the Benedictine Rule as a spirituality for the millennial generation. Paradox in the Monastery: Lessons from Two Ammas Laura Swan OSB reflects upon the paradox that oft-told stories reveal more about us and our current struggles than about the subject of the story. Review for Religious 169 Viewing Chapters as "Authorizing" Our Congregations' Narratives Patrick Sean Moffett CFC presents various aspects of religious-life chapters that emphasize the storytelling nature of these ecclesial events. 182 ignatian tradition Our Lady's Presence in the Spiritual Exercises J. Thomas Hamel SJ helps us to review the subtle, but penetrating, presence of our Lady to the prayer exercises of the Ignatian Spiritual Exercises. 192 The Spiritual Power of Matter: Teilhard and the Exercises Kathleen Duffy SSJ shows how the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius helped Teilhard de Chardin to synthesize the science of evolution with his Christian knowledge of God. departments 116 Prisms 204 Canonical Counsel: Mergers, Unions, Federations, and Confederations 211 Book Reviews 63.2 2004 Pentecost is the traditional birthday of the Christian church, and its mis-sionary effort began simultaneously with its birth. As we read in the second chapter of the Acts of the Apostles, Peter stood up "with the Eleven, raised his voice, and addressed the devout Jews of every nation staying in Jerusalem at the time. 'Jesus God has raised up, and we are his witnesses. Exalted at God's right hand, he first received the promised Holy Spirit from the Father, then poured this Spirit out on us. This is what you now see and hear'" (Ac 2:32-33). As a result of Peter's preaching on this first Pentecost day, some three thousand were bap-tized. This is the story of the church's birthday. After centuries of identifying mission just as one of the activities of the church, we now are returning to the church beginnings at Pentecost to realize how church and mission are a single reality. We might claim, then, that Christian theology has its beginnings in our reflection on mission. In the U.S. bishops' 1986 pastoral let-ter "To the Ends of the Earth," we read: "To say church is to say mission." Our way of theologizing about our Trinitarian God--Father, Son, and Spirit--is in terms of their active relationships, in terms of their mission. In Genesis, God pours forth the Spirit, and creation and life happen. In the Gospel of St. John, Jesus describes himself as the One who is sent. And, in that same Gospel, Review for Religious Jesus describes anew a sending of the Spirit from the Father and himself. Both creation and redemption can be described as salvific acts because God as "missionary" is always involved in being a saving presence in creation. As the Body of Christ, sharing in divine life, we the church also share in God's mission. The church, then, like our Trinitarian God, is missionary in its very being. The word missionary cannot be restricted only to those sent to evangelize in countries or cultures not their own. In fact, mission cannot be defined by geography, especially in our globalized world. Mission is not driven just by the zeal to expand the boundaries of the church. To be missionary, however, does call us to step out beyond the boundaries of our fears and our traditions and our cultures. If being church is being missionary, what does mis-sion mean for us? We Christians, members of Christ's Body, are missionary in our very baptismal being. Jesus has extended his mission to us all--proclaiming the reign of God (close around us) and so making people aware of the nearness of a saving, loving God. Just as the mis-sion of God is found incarnated in Jesus' life mission, we realize that our mission today must be exercised in the way we live and deal with others. It is the way that God respects and dialogues with us human beings. Only with such dialogue and respect can we make ourselves one with God's mission. As missionaries, like St. Francis of Assisi, we live, and sometimes we have to preach. There is a traditional saying, "You can only convert what you love." In an analogous way, we might need first to be "evangelized" by those that we intend to evangelize. But today we are being called anew to be who we are baptized to be: missionaries, made in the image and like-ness of our Trinitarian God, our Missionary God. David L. Fleming SJ 63.2 2004 spiritua wisdom BRIAN V. JOHNSTONE Keeping a Balance: Contemplation and Christian Meditation Some time ago Ernest E. Larkin OCarm pub-lished an article titled "Today's Contemplative Prayer Forms: Are they Contemplation?" After reviewing the different meanings given to "meditation" and "contemplation," he conclu-ded: "In this frame of reference, we see that centering prayer and Christian Meditation do not fit handily in the category of either meditation or contemplation. They are something new in contemplative practice.''1 The present article offers an account of what is different in these contemporary prayer forms and seeks to show how they are nevertheless related to tradition. The discussion will focus primarily on Christian Meditation. Meditation and Contemplation Contemplation itself, as understood for example by St. John of the Cross, is "pure Oft"; there is no place in it for active collaboration. Brian V. Johnstone CSSR, new to our pages, writes from Accademia Alfonsiana; C.P. 2458; 00100 Roma; Italy. Review for Religious Thus, Larkin concludes, "John's contemplation is not the immediate horizon of contemporary contemplative prayer forms.''2 In his writings, the Benedictine monk John Main, who is recognized as the original exponent of Christian Meditation, does not enter into lengthy, detailed analysis of the higher states of prayer such as we find in St. Teresa or St. John of the Cross. In his account of Christian Meditation, John Main says: "I am using the term meditation as synonymous with contemplation, contemplative prayer, meditative prayer, and so forth.''3 We do not find in his writings a sharp distinction between contemplation in the classic sense and the forms of prayer that entail the active engagement of the person praying. Is there an issue here? Perhaps the most practical question is whether Christian Meditation is to be regarded as a form of contemplation in the classic sense, that is, a type of prayer that is believed to be given freely by God, but usually only after a long process of many steps. In particular, for John of the Cross, contemplation begins with the passive, dark night of the senses. This would mean, at least in a commonly accepted interpretation of contemplation, that it would be a miraculous supernatural event reserved for an elite. Christian Meditation, as described by John Main, is not like this. It is a form of prayer in which, after some simple instruction, beginners can join. He is concerned to impart to interested persons a simple method which, being simple, is available to many. Participants are not encouraged to think of themselves as moving from stage to stage along a precisely delineated path towards a "higher" level of prayer. It is recognized that meditation over a long period, many years in fact, is usually necessary to acquire facility and skill, but experienced meditators are not considered as having attained a level of prayer with different requirements from those that are appropriate and possible for beginners. 63.2 2004 Johnstone ¯ Keeping a Balance A fear of mistaking "doing nothing, with nothing happening" for genuine contemplation has a long history in Christian prayer. This raises an important practical issue. In the traditional theological analysis, it was important that persons engaged in prayer recognize clearly the stage they had attained. A director was to assist discernment in this matter. Since there were particular rules and expectations for each stage, a mistake could have serious spiritual consequences. The issue is mentioned in Larkin's article; he cites James Arraj as warning that without "express contemplation" (which I take to mean contemplation in the sense of "infused" or passive contemplation) the person should continue to make acts of faith and love rather than be "simply idle in the prayer." 4 The practical problem seems to come when people think they have been given the pure gift of contemplation in the proper sense. Then, since this level is essentially passive and excludes the making of acts, they think they should drop such activity. But they may be mistaken. Having stopped making acts of faith and so forth, they may then just "hang out," doing nothing, thinking they are enjoying the gift of passive contemplation when they are merely being passive. They would be doing nothing, and nothing would be happening. This would be unlikely in the case of people following John Main's Christian Meditation. He insists on the continuous, quiet repetition of a short prayer that he calls the mantra; if persons at prayer should momentarily lapse into inactivity and find themselves Review for Religious doing nothing, they should immediately begin repeating the mantra again. A fear of mistaking "doing nothing, with nothing happening" for genuine contemplation has a long history in Christian prayer. On the one hand, it would be a serious mistake to lead people to believe that the hours they are spending in "contemplation" are just a waste of time, mere wool gathering. On the other hand, if a spiritual guide such as John Main strongly recommends that people continue to make acts during meditation, does this imply that in this form of meditation there is no place at all for contemplation in the classic passive sense? In offering an answer to this question, I will examine a prayer form recommended by St. Teresa and accepted also by some who followed her. As I will seek to show, she had a less restrictive notion of contemplation than the previous analysis suggests. This broader notion of contemplation, furthermore, may well have a parallel in Christian Meditation. Active Recollection Larkin takes note of St. Teresa's "active recollection," a form of prayer that she developed from her own experience,s He describes it as a "transitional prayer form that is very similar to modern contemplative prayer.''6 "Transitional" indicates that this way of praying is followed by those who are passing from simple meditation to the "higher" levels of contemplation, but have not yet arrived. St. Alphonsus de Liguori (+1787), in addition to his works on moral theology, wrote extensively on the spiritual life, and in particular on prayer. Following St. Teresa, he gives special mention to "active recollection," which he links closely to "contemplative repose," an expression he takes from "the mystics.''7 Contemplative repose, he explains, is vi.rtually the same as active recollection; it refers to a spiritual condition in which 63.2 2004 ,~obnstone * Keei~ing a Balance "the soul is focused on some spiritual thought and, absorbed in itself, feels gently attracted to God." I will analyze this type of prayer, "active contemplation," and compare it with Christian Meditation. Such a comparison will, I believe, serve to show the continuity of Christian Meditation with tl~e older tradition, and also bring to light those new features which it has to offer. What did St. Teresa mean by "active recollection"? She was familiar with what is called "discursive meditation." This form was promoted in the Dominican Luis de Granada's famous Book of Prayer and Meditation, which St. Teresa actually recommends in her con-stitutions. She herself, however, did not find this way of prayer suitable. About such works she wrote, "There are so many good books written by able persons for those who have methodical minds and for souls that are experienced and can concentrate within themselves that it would be a mistake if you pay attention to what I say about prayer" (19.1). But her own method is for those persons whose minds, like hers, are "wild horses" (19.2). How does St. Teresa deal with this mental rodeo in the context of prayer? She recommends .the Lord's Prayer. One would recite it phrase by phrase, slowly and attentively. In her view, vocal prayer does not exclude contemplation. She calls her method "active recollection." in this kind of prayer, she says, "the soul collects its faculties together and enters within itself to be with God" (28.4). This entails a centering of attention, plus awareness that God is near, fully with us at all times (29.5). We are to be fully present to God and to gaze upon him. Teresa uses the sight metaphor several times. It is not a matter of constructing arguments with concepts. She writes: "I'm not asking you now that you think about Him or that you draw out a lot of concepts or make long and subtle reflections with your intellect. I'm not asking you to do anything more than Review for Religio~ts look at Him" (26.3). She calls this a "method," and the one praying is required to make an "effort." This form of active prayer does not exclude contemplation, but promotes and may include it. From Teresa's experience she can affirm that this method disposes a person to the prayer of quiet (that is, a more passive kind) more readily and quickly than other methods. During this form of prayer, she writes, the soul will at times feel a passive quieting and be drawn gradually to a greater silence (30.7). For Teresa, the experience of passivity, that is, of contemplation in the proper sense, is not reserved to some final stage at the end of a long progression, nor is it reserved for spiritual experts. Is there a conceptual difference between the "prayer of quiet" and contemplation in the classic sense? St. Teresa refers to the former as "the beginning of pure contemplation" (30.7). But it still entails active recollection and may include vocal prayer. She insists that it is a mistake to believe that vocal prayer cannot go together with contemplation. There are no clear psychological gaps between vocal prayer, the prayer of quiet, and the beginning of contemplation. One fades into another as the felt need to initiate new effort yields to the sense of being moved by the impetus of the process one has already begun. This itself, of course, was begun as a response to the stimulus of grace, which in turn, as it emerges into consciousness, yields the awareness of being taken over completely by God. St. Alphonsus dealt specifically with the nature of the "prayer of quiet." According to his view, since in active recollection one's will is dominant, it will bring the imagination under control without any further effort on the part of the soul.8 There is, then, control, but it is the kind of control that follows the momentum of the earlier activity; there is no need for the further effort of making 63.2 2004 Jobnstone * Keeping a Balance new acts. This is a-form of quiet, but it is not completely passive. St. Alphonsus insists on some acts, those to which God is gently attracting us. The impetus of the divine initiative begins to emerge into consciousness, but this is not to say that the same initiative was absent before one's becoming conscious of it. The assumption that active and passive prayer are essentially different levels of prayer begins to appear as abstract theory that does not necessarily correspond to actual experience. For St. Teresa, the reason for active recollection is to become aware of Christ's presence. For example, we can be present to him in joy, being with him as risen. Here Teresa seems to imply reflection on the Gospel accounts. She has a theological support for this conviction: "Although risen, he still influences us through his earthly mysteries, by which he draws close to us in a more tangible way" (26.4,5,8). St. Alphonsus, as has been said, followed St. Teresa closely with respect to "active recollection." He is St. Alphonsus insists on some acts, those to which God is gently attracting us. perhaps more insistent than she is that the person at prayer continue to make acts. There may have been historical reasons for this emphasis, apart from A1- phonsus's own energetic personality. Pope Innocent XI in 1687 condemned the Quietists. This group taught, or is supposed to have taught, that making one intense act of love of God and never withdrawing it would assure union with God, and that no further effort was needed either in prayer or in living. It may be as a reaction against this that St. Alphonsus stresses the need for acts and more acts. Review for Religious However, while he emphasized the need for activity, it was certainly not his intention that the active contemplation become obsessively busy. Consider the following description of active recollection: "Without conscious effort, untroubled by external distractions, and totally absorbed within itself, experiencing at the same time a deep sense of serenity, the soul is able to concentrate on the mystery or the eternal truth in question.''9 These words would, on the whole, not sound alien to one familiar with Christian Meditation. But, to explain the differences between Christian Meditation and the active recollection of the Teresan tradition, a more detailed description of the former is needed. Christian Meditation John Main's account of Christian Meditation begins with an acknowledgment of the inveterate confusion of the human mind. While St. Teresa invoked the image of wild horses, John Main compares this condition of the mind of the would-be meditator to a "tree full on monkeys." Whether described in terms of horses or monkeys, the mental experiences are clearly similar. There is also a similarity in the way these two writers recommend that we deal with the problem. St. Teresa favors the Lord's Prayer; John Main also proposes a form of vocal prayer. The prayer he recommends is an attentive, mindful repetition of a phrase, a mantra. He recommends, in particular, Marana tha, an Aramaic expression which means "Our Lord, come." St. Paul ends his First Letter to the Corinthians with this invocation, and the Book of Revelation ends with the same prayer. The prayer is eminently Christian. For both St. Teresa and John Main, the aim of cultivating attention so as to make space for the experience of the presence of God is essentially the same. Main once wrote: 63.2 2004 Johnstone ¯ Keeping aBalance St. Thomas Aquinas says that "contemplation consists in the simple enjoyment of the truth." Simple enjoyment! Now it is true that thinking, analyzing, comparing, and contrasting all have their place in the various disciplines, including theology. But contemplation, as St. Thomas calls it, meditation as we would call it, is not the time for activity, for the activity of thinking, analyzing, comparing, or contrasting. Meditation is the time for being. Simple enjoyment. And the simplicity that St. Thomas speaks of, its oneness, union.1° Here no clear distinction is made between contemplation in St. Thomas's sense and meditation. The experience of oneness or union, however, seems to belong to contemplation in the classic sense, that is, something beyond active meditation; the soul is completely passive. For John Main, though, these distinctions do not seem to matter. There is a notable difference between the Weresan prayer of "active recollection," at least as understood by St. Alphonsus, and Christian Meditation. The first entails reflection on a "mystery" or "eternal truth," while the latter aims at a sense of union, without passing through the penetration of a "truth." In Christian Meditation, one does not concentrate, for example, on the meaning of the phrase "Lord, come," but repeats it as a way of focusing awareness on the presence of God. As we have seen, St. Teresa, and St. Alphonsus as well, would immediately affirm this goal. The point of difference is that they would include a concentration on a particular mystery or truth within the meditation itself. Truth in a more general sense, however, is intended as an element of Christian Meditation. John Main wrote: "Meditate every morning and every evening, faithfully, simply, and humbly. Contemplation consists in the simple enjoyment of truth.''11 This statement suggest two facets of the one event: the active meditation (that is, the Review for Religious repetition of the mantra) and the simple enjoyment that accompanies it. This is not all that different from St. Teresa's and St. Alphonsus's notion of "active recollection." Christian Meditation should not be misinterpreted. It is not antiintellectual or antitheological. It does not downplay the importance of truths. It merely leaves reflection on such truths outside of meditation itself. Indeed, within the movement there is available to meditators an extensive body of writing that offers ample reflection on the mysteries of faith. Because it is a popular movement, the reflection is generally not presented as systematic theology, but then neither are the reflections of St. Teresa or St. Alphonsus. I have noted above the particular place that St. Teresa gave to the resurrection; the same theme occurs frequently in the writings of John Main.~2 It would be a mistake to think that Christian Meditation plays down doctrine. Rather, we might say, it is presumed that study and reflection lead to a background awareness which, while not consciously evoked in the meditation itself, continues to support spiritual awareness. There can be no doubt that many people, growing numbers of them, have found Christian Meditation a most satisfactory way of prayer. Is there any compelling reason to choose between St. Teresa's more extensive use of words during meditation--in particular, the words of the Lord's Prayer--and the brief word recommended in Christian Meditation? There are many ways of praying, and people may be led by the Spirit along different paths. Some, perhaps because of different cultural backgrounds, have found the older approach rather too insistent on Christian Meditation is not antiintellectual or antitheological. 63.2 2004 Johnstone * Keeping aBalance repeated acts and a good many words. As I have noted previously, however, neither St. Teresa nor St. Alphonsus had in mind a multiplication of acts or a mechanical proliferation of words. For whatever reason, though, in our time the verbal austerity of Christian Meditation seems to appeal to many. The limited use of words, or even the deliberate renunciation of them, in Christian Meditation is connected to its nature as conceived by John Main. Spiritual authors in the past often spoke of "conversation" in their accounts of prayer. This conversation was to be a two-way affair, even if carefully structured. When God speaks, we listen attentively; when God does not speak, we engage actively in the conversation through acts of faith and love.~3 This "traditional" element John Main includes in his own words, although again with a significant modification: "Prayer is not a matter of talking to God, but of listening to him, of being with him. It is this simple understanding of prayer that lies behind John Cassian's advice that, if we want to pray, to listen, we must become quiet and still, reciting a short verse over and over again." ~4 Active Recollection and Contemplation At this point I move to a more theoretical discussion, but one with practical implications as well. The issue is the relationship between active recollection and contemplation. St. Teresa, from her own experience, taught that active recollection disposed to contemplation, but she also anticipated that contemplation itself might well arrive during the time of active recollection. The 4th-century monks of the Egyptian desert also expected that "higher" forms of prayer might suddenly break through more normal forms of meditation. During their periods of praying the psalms together, they were to curb their spitting, coughing, yawning, groaning, and Review for Religious similar noises. The only sound that was accepted was a spontaneous sigh of ecstasy.15 It was anticipated, apparently, that moments of "contemplation" would emerge within more ordinary prayer. St. Teresa seems to have had no difficulty in recognizing when such special moments occurred in her own prayer. For one whose spiritual sensibilities were as finely tuned as hers, there would probably be no reason to have any doubt about the presence of contemplation. What are we to think, then, of the advice of Arraj, mentioned by Larkin, that, until "express contemplation" is present, one should continue to make acts (of faith, love, and so forth)? The practical problem is how to know that such contemplation is present, and how certain we should be about it. To clarify the question, we could accept Karl Rahner's theological explanation, namely, that the experience of God in meditation, in human activity, or in classical spiritual doctrine's "infused contemplation" arises from the one same gift of God at work within us.16 Indeed this must be the case. To speak of "passive" contemplation as a pure gift must not be allowed to suggest that active recollection is not a gift, but somehow a product of our own efforts, before or apart from grace. We may say that recollection "disposes" us to the prayer of quiet, but we may not claim that recollection is the product of our initiative, which somehow, of its own power, engenders or earns the further state. "Pure," as applied to the gift of contemplation, does not imply that prayer such as active recollection is somehow impure, because contaminated with human activity. Nor can it be philosophically accurate to say that in "passive" prayer we are not active in any sense. The pure gift of God's grace cannot but raise us to the highest level of actuation. Our conscious experience may be one of pure passivity, but when God takes over completely our 63.2 2004 Johnstone ¯ Keeping a Balance The more intense the power of grace, the more we are fully active. 1-30J capacities are not simply extinguished. As is always the case with grace, the more intense the power of grace, the more we are fully active. The more God intervenes, the more empowered we become and the more free we are. Similarly, I would have difficulties with an explanation of infused contemplation according to which "the infused light and love go directly to the object without any return to the self.''17 In the "modern" philosophical era (that is, from the 16th century onwards), there has been a dissociation between subject and object)8 This seems to have been reflected in Catholic theo-logy, so that some traditions focus on the subject and others on the object. In these circumstances the interpretation of the spiritual experience involved here may tilt excessively towards the object. Perhaps such thoughts as these are ¯ improper philosophical intrusions on discourse about spirituality, but I would suggest that cutting or leaving the subject completely out of the picture is metaphysically impossible. Further, I would point out that what is interpreted as an absolute certainty of the presence of God, or of the state of "passivity," is a certainty on the part of the subject. When someone says "Whenever I experienced contemplative prayer, there was absolutely no doubt that I was in God's presence,"'9 we would need to add after "doubt" the words "in my mind." Without this qualification the interpretation veers too far towards the subjective. Such a state of consciousness is not a proof that God is present, or that the pure gift of prayer of quiet has in fact been granted. We cannot know definitively whether we have reached this "stage" or not. Review for Religious Such certainty as we have rests ultimately on the certainty of our faith, not on the felt quality of our experiences. This is not to return to a theory in which grace is beyond experience. We may indeed experience grace. But our conscious certainty cannot establish that grace is in fact present. What I am suggesting here is that the traditional language used in speaking of contemplation, meditation, and levels of prayer has problems. At least part of the difficulty with the older formulations is that they presupposed a rigid distinction between "natural" and "supernatural," and hence between "acquired" (or natural) contemplation and "infused" (or supernatural) contemplation. "Natural" meant what we do; "supernatural" meant what God does. Such a sharp distinction is understandable when we recall the theological disputes of the time (especially the controversies about grace), but we would express that difference somewhat more flexibly today. Perhaps we could say that it was and is a mistake to reify the various categories of prayer which the classic authors have named for us. Probably it was not so much these authors themselves, but the theological commentators who interpreted them, who made the mistake. To reify would mean to consider the distinct kinds of prayer as if they were things like quantitative blocks of consciousness that we could, as it were, line up one after another on a conveyor belt and then run the belt through our minds. Following on this thought, we might suggest that saying the petitions of the Lord's Prayer, as St. Teresa did, or repeating.the mantra, as John Main did, can dispose us to quiet and contemplation. But it is not necessary to turn them off, as it were, so that we can really appreciate the quiet. If we do so, the wild horses of our disordered minds are likely to gallop back again, or the screeching monkeys may well return to the 63.2 2004 Johnstone ¯ Keeping a Balance thickets of our consciousness, and quiet would be no more. In these reflections I am suggesting that the classic fixed distinctions between different forms of prayer may not be so important as they .were once thought to be. I suggest that it would not make a great deal of sense to say to oneself, "I have not yet arrived at the experience of passivity and received the pure gift of contemplation, and so I must continue with active prayer." Nor would the reverse be any better, namely, to convince oneself that one has indeed been given this gift and so to drop active prayer. The best solution, I suggest, would be to accept with St. Teresa (and St. Alphonsus) that some form of active, vocal prayer may quite well go together with contemplation. At root this is what John Main believed: the repetition of the mantra may accompany contemplation. We do not need to be scrutinizing our consciousness so as to find whether contemplation has occurred or not. The prayer of quiet, or gift of contemplation, may be given by God at any moment within that active prayer. We need not be surprised if this happens, and we may welcome it if or when it is given to us. To conclude, the form of meditation in which one repeats a short prayer continuously with the expectation that a prayer of quiet (with a sense of oneness and rest) may supervene has strong roots in the Catholic spiritual tradition. This is true not only of the earlier tradition, where we find Cassian commending this practice, but also of the more recent tradition, as expressed in particular by St. Teresa. The description of prayer in the texts on Christian Meditation does not include a description of contemplation in the classic sense, but who are we to say that the latter may not supervene? It is indeed God's gift--and may be given whenever God chooses to do so. Notes t Ernest E. Larkin OCarm, "Today's Contemplative Prayer Forms," Review for Religious 57 (1998): 83. Review for Religious 2 Larkin, p. 84. 3 Cited in Larkin, p. 78. 4 Larkin, p. 87 n. 12. 5 The Way of Perfection, in Vol. 2 of The Collected Works of St. Teresa of Avila, trans. Kieran Kavanaugh OCD and Otilio Rodriguez OCD (Washington, D.C.: ICS Publications, 1980). p. 140. The relevant passages are chaps. 28-29. Hereafter all references to Teresa will be to this work and edition, by chapter and section(s) given in the text thus: (19.1). 6 Larkin, p. 83. 7 Alpbonsus de Liguori: Selected Writings (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1999), p. 170. The putting together of this "active" recollection with "contemplative repose" may seem perplexing. The essential point is that it still involves acting, as distinct from "infused contemplation," where there is no acting on our part. s Alpbonsus, p. 176, citing St. Teresa. 9 Alpbonsus, p. 170. ~0 John Main, The Inner Christ (London: Darton, Longman, and Todd, 1987), p. 203. " Main, p. 205. ~2 Main, pp. 116, 119, 132. '3illpbonscts, p. 171. ,4 Main, p. 22. ,5 Owen Chadwick, John Cassian (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1950), p. 69. ~6 Larkin, p. 81. ~7 1 refer here to the citation from Max Huot de Longchamp, Saint Jean de la Croix: Pour Lire le Docteur Mystique (Paris: Fac-editions, 1991), p. 164, cited by Larkin, p. 87. ~8 See Charles Taylor, The Sources of the Self: The Making of the Modern Identity (Cambridge: Harva~:d University Press, 1989), p. 188. ,9 Larkin, p. 78. 63.2 2004 DENNIS J. BILLY Faith Seeking Understanding: Spiritual Direction's Sapiential Function ~;l~you are a theologian, you will pray in truth; and you pray in truth, you are a theologian." 1 These words of Nilus of Sinai (+450), a 5th-century monk from Ancyra in Asia Minor who lived in the wilderness of Sinai for more than sixty years, remind us of the inti-mate connection between conversing with and under-standing the mystery of God. A true knowledge of God involves an experience of the divine mystery, not simply knowledge about it. Such experiential knowledge comes, not through rational analysis, but from a living rela-tionship with God nourished by prayer. This under-standing of theology emphasizes knowing God by participating in the intimate community of divine love. It values the living reality of God over theological constructions of that reality. That reality is closer to us than we are to our own selveS. We are invited to be pre-sent to God's pr.esence in us. Spiritual direction can help us become present to this reality. It is a divine (but also human) art that helps us "pray in truth" and come to an intimate personal knowledge of God. ._~,, ~ ~,~4_J 2D45e8n;n iRs oJm. Bai l0ly0 1C0S0S; RIt awlyri.tes again from Accademia Alfonsiana; C.P. Review for Religious Praying in Truth The theologian, in Nilus's eyes, is one who knows how to "pray in truth." To do so, we must strip off the old self and put on the new. Only then, by being renewed in the image of our Creator, will we gradually progress toward true knowledge of the divine (see Col 3:9-10). To pray in truth is to pray in Christ, the way, the truth, and the life (see Jn 14:6). Praying in truth means open-ing our hearts and being present to God as we really are. It means not being afraid to look inside ourselves and confront the various masks and self-deceptions we find there. It means bearing our souls to God so that God may bear his soul to us. Intimacy with God first requires intimacy with oneself. We cannot communicate with God in truth if we are unwilling to know the truth about ourselves. Coming to an intimate knowledge of ourselves, how-ever, is no easy task. Most of us cannot go it alone and are in dire need of help. We find facing our inner wants and insecurities much too threatening. Left to our own resources, many of us would end up rationalizing away our fears and discounting our deepest hopes about who we are and want to become. Spiritual direction helps us confront ourselves and open our hearts to God. It gently points out the voice of the Spirit manifested in the nitty-gritty circumstances of our lives. As the prophet Elijah reminds us, often that voice is found, not in whirlwinds, earthquakes, and fires about us, but in the small whisper that can only be heard in the solitude of our hearts (see 1 Kg 19:11-13). Spiritual direction seeks to settle our hearts so that we can rest in this solitude and become ourselves in our faith? Focusing on our conscious and unconscious inter-action with the divine, it helps us to follow the flow of troublesome and often conflicting personal narratives in our life and then to make responsible iudgments about 63.2 2004 Billy * Faith Seeking Understanding what we are being called to. It pays special heed to our prayer life, helping us to discern authentic prayer from its mean and paltry imitation. The goal of spiritual direction is for us to "pray in truth." We receive help to confront ourselves and thereby to discover our authentic voice. That voice alone will lead us to intimacy with God. We must be patient, how-ever, and ever so silent. We must listen to our heart and not be afraid to hear what it has to say. When we speak from the heart, we soon discover the gentle voice of the Spirit yearning within us. To pray in truth is to pray in the Spirit, the re-creative presence of God that hovers over and revives the primal forces within us. We know we are praying in the Spirit when our lives manifest the Spirit's various gifts and fruits (see Is 11:2-3, Ga 5:22-23). Spiritual direction helps identify these spiritual riches and let them do their quiet work within us, the work of gradual divinization, of greater sharing in the eternal love of the Godhead. Solitude of Heart The primary means by which the Spirit accomplishes its task is by nurturing in us a deep desire for solitude. As we empty our hearts of unnecessary attachments, we make room for the divine indwelling. Solitude of heart is the precondition for our experience of the fullness of life. "The glory of God," says Irenaeus of Lyons, "is a liv-ing human being."3 We who are created in the image and likeness of God become ourselves only by allowing God to be himself in us. Spiritual direction helps us open our hearts to the heart of God. It helps us by fostering a contemplative attitude toward life, enabling us to see all that happens in the light of God's providential plan. By offering their directees the hospitality of a lis-tening heart, directors set the tone for all that happens during the session. By being present in silence and with Review for Religious their full attention, directors affirm the seriousness of what is taking place and often form lasting friendships. These bonds spring from their reflective gaze upon the directees' unfolding experiences, from this sharing in their solitude. Three persons share in this solitude of heart: the director, the directee, and the Holy Spirit. In direction, directors and directees gradually turn their attention to this quiet partner in their midst. They discern the signs of the Spirit in the nar-ratives that directees share with their direc-tors. The Spirit leaves traces of its presence in the threads of people's lives. When we look at our lives prayerfully, these slight vestiges gradually become noticed and fit into conscious awareness. This is the time for directors and directees together to interpret these signs so that the directees can respond appropriately. One of these signs is peace. After his resurrection Jesus comforted his disciples with a message of peace that stemmed from his immediate and unquestioning trust in the Father's love (see Lk 24:36, Jn 20:19, 21). Today this same message comes to us through the yearn-ing of the Spirit in our hearts, who intercedes for us to the Lord with unutterable groaning (see Rm 8:26). Directors help their directees to recognize the factors in their life that contribute to peace. Such peace comes not from the world, but by giving ourselves whole-heartedly to the one thing that ultimately matters--the love of God dwelling in our heart. "The paradise of God," says Alphonsus de Liguori, "is the heart of man.''4 The peace of Christ works its The primary means by which the Spirit accomplishes its task is by nurturing in us a deep desire for solitude. Billy ¯ Faith Seeking Understanding way outward from within. Rooted in the love of the Lord, it eventually finds outward expression in our striv-ing to form right relationships with others on every level of human society (such as family, country, community of nations). Peace, "the tranquillity of order" as Augustine of Hippo refers to it, possesses personal, com-munal, and transcendent dimensions.5 For us to find it in our lives, solitude of heart is necessary. Spiritual direc-tion, in turn, is an important instrument given us by God to help in that discovery. Faith Seeking Understanding If theologians are persons who pray in truth, spiritual direction facilitates such prayer. Theology, we are told, "denotes. far more than the learning about God and religious doctrine acquired through academic study. It signifies active and conscious participation in or percep-tion of the realities of the divine world--in other words, the realization of spiritual knowledge.''6 To be even more specific, theology has to do with our attempt to reflect upon our experience of the indwelling of the Trinity in our hearts. When seen in this light, the classical Western understanding of theology as "faith seeking understand-ing" (tides quaerens intellectum)--which was developed by Anselm of Canterbury under the influence of the Latin Vulgate and Augustine of Hippo--needs to be rescued from the overrationalizing of later centuries and exam-ined in relation to acquiring Christian wisdom.7 When understood as a sapiential (as opposed to a narrowly ratio-nal) enterprise, theology's true task comes to the fore. All of us are called to reflect upon the meaning of our lives in the light of the gospel message. To accom-plish this task well, we must reflect on the experience of God in our hearts and try to ascertain what exactly is being asked of us. When understood sapientially, theol-ogy as "faith seeking understanding" tries to discern the Review for Religious movement of the Spirit in our lives so that we can bet-ter understand how to live out our call to discipleship in mature and responsible ways. Spiritual direction is an important place for acquiring spiritual wisdom. It helps us talk to God, listen to him, and engage in discernment that leads to deeper intimacy with him. Spiritual direction achieves this goal whenever there is an honest, sharing relationship between the two per-sons. This relationship, while complex and manifold, focuses primarily on the relationship of the directee with God. Directors help directees to understand their inter-action with God better and then to draw closer to God. This process is both challenging and consoling. Directors challenge directees to be honest and to identify areas for future growth. They also need to comfort directees in times of discouragement and imminent loss. Knowing when to exercise this dual role of challenge and comfort is one of the primary skills that directors need to have. Faith seeking understanding in spiritual direction calls for directors to have flexibility and strength. They need to adapt to changing times and circumstances and to withstand the adverse challenges that may occur. The fruits of the process become evident. To believe as one searches for meaning in life leads to a deeper under-standing of one's life situation, of one's relationship with oneself, with others, and with God. Spiritual direction, in its many forms, seeks to empower us to affirm our faith and in the process become ourselves more fully. Becoming Holy Becoming ourselves in our faith is but another way of speaking about our desire for holiness. Spiritual direction is not simply a matter of gaining greater insight into our relationship with God. It has very much to do with turn-ing those insights into concrete practices that lead fur-ther along the path of conversion. These practices must 63.2 2004 Billy ¯ Faitb Seeking Understanding Becoming ourselves in our faith is but another way of speaking about our desire for holiness. not be imposed from without; they must arise from within. They must correspond to a true assessment of our needs based on insights that spiritual direction has facilitated. A truly wise person is also a holy person, and vice versa. According to Thomas Aquinas, wisdom is the gift of the Spirit that corresponds to and is guided by and is a perfec-tion of charity.8 The sapi-ential function of spiritual direction leads us beyond simply knowing God to loving and serving him. "Faith seeking understand-ing" through spiritual direction leads not only to insights into divine things, but also to incorporating those insights into the way we live our daily lives. This close relationship between "being" and "action" is important for the sapiential function of spiritual direc-tion. The virtuous actions performed by people striving to be virtuous contribute to making them even more vir-tuous. When directees ask their director what they should do, they are ultimately asking about what kind of person they themselves wish to become. When prop-erly exercised, spiritual direction helps people see this important connection and encourages them to make "communion with God" the motivating force of all of their actions. Living in communion with God is another term for becoming holy. It is a primary concern of the direction process, helping people become themselves in their life of faith. As an element of "faith seeking understanding," spir-itual direction seeks to help us not only to discern but also to act. By far the most important thing any of us can ever do is pray. Prayer is "the great means of salva- Review for Religious tion.''9 Our manner of prayer--its frequency, its form, its content--is and should always remain a vital subject in spiritual direction. During direction we need to ask if our prayer addresses every dimension of our human makeup: the physical, emotional, intellectual, social, and spiritual.~° With the help of our director, we should try to identify what we may be neglecting in prayer and make appropriate changes. How we pray says a great deal about our own self-understanding and our rela-tionship with God. By examining our prayer carefully for ways to improve it, we demonstrate our love for God and our longing for holiness. Spiritual direction helps us to understand and prac-tice true prayer. It accompanies us on the way to self-knowledge and invites us to deeper intimacy with God. Such experiential knowledge transcends the conceptual world of the professional theologian. By it we share consciously in God's love and develop an intuitive aware-ness of the mind of God. By helping us to "pray in truth," spiritual direction assists our understanding and enables us to become ourselves in our faith, to live in the Spirit, to grow in wisdom and in the knowledge of God, to grow in charity throughout our lives. By help-ing us listen to the movement of the Spirit in our hearts and respond wisely and generously, spiritual direction enables us to see the world around us with something of God's zealous compassion, God's .intense longing to dwell in the hearts of us all. Notes 1 Nilus of Sinai, IY3 Texts on Prayer, no. 61 in Early Fathers from the Philokalia, trans. E. Kadloubovsky and G.E.H. Palmer (London: Faber and Faber, 1954), p. 134. 2 See Jean Laplace, The Direction of Conscience, trans. John C. Guinness (New York: Herder and Herder, 1967), p. 26. 3 Irenaeus of Lyons, Against the Heresies 4.20.7, in Vol. 1 of The Ante-Nicene Fathers, ed. Alexander Roberts and James Donaldson (New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1925), p. 490. 63.2 2004 Billy * Faith Seeking Understanding 4 Alphonsus de Liguori, The Way to Converse Always and Familiarly with God, in Vol. 2 of The Complete Works of Saint Alphonsus de Liguori, ed. Eugene Grimm (Brooklyn: Redemptorist Fathers, 1926), p. 395. s Augustine of Hippo, The City of God 19.13, in Vol. 2 of The Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, ed. Philip Schaff (New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1903), pp. 409-410. 6 The Philokalia: The Complete Text, ed. and trans. G.E.H. Palmer, Philip Sherrard, and Kallistos Ware (London: Faber and Faber, 1981), Vol. 2, p. 389. 7 See Anselm of Canterbury, The Proslogion, chap. 1, in Vol. 1 of Anselm of Canterbury, ed. and trans. Jasper Hopkins and Herbert W. Richardson (Toronto and New York: Edwin Mellen Press, 1974), pp. 91-93; Biblia sacra vulgata, ed. Robert Weber (Stuttgart: Wiirttembergische Bibelanstalt, 1969), Vol. 2, p. 1103 (Is 7:9); Augustine of Hippo, On the Trinity 8.5.8, in Vol. 3 of The Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, ed. Philip Schaff (New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1900), pp. 119-120. ~ See Thomas Aquinas, Summa theologiae, I-II, q.68, a.8; II-II, q.45, in Vol. 20 of Great Books of the Western World, ed. Robert Maynard Hutchins (Chicago: Encyclopaedia Britannica, 1952), pp. 95-96, 598- 606. 9 Alphonsus de Liguori, Prayer, The Great Means of Salvation, in Vol. 3 of Complete Works (1927), p. 23. 10 See Dennis J. Billy, Evangelical Kernels: A Theological Spirituality of the Religious Life (Staten Island: Alba House, 1993), pp. 167-184. Gift I am stunned by the gift you gave me. Not a sun or stars, not the sea or a pebble rounded to perfection. Not even forgiveness, although this was wrapped into the gift. You gave me love. Some day I may regard your gift indifferently, as something I deserve. For now, I know nothing but astonishment. Patricia Chaffee OP Review for Religious GEORGE ASCHENBRENNER Windows of the Soul: Walter Ciszek SJ T e eyes are often windows into the soul. A mother ows this as she gazes quietly into the eyes of her newborn child, dreaming and hoping about its future. Lovers and friends know this too. Gazing into each other's eyes opens a whole world, wide and deep beyond words. Most of us are unaware of how revelatory our eyes are. The grumpiness of discontented people lurks in their eyes for anyone to see. So, too, the limpid kindness of truly guileless people sparkles in their eyes. Yes, in many instances our eyes are windows into the soul. In fact, our eyes convey more and deeper messages as we grow through life. Forty years ago,. on 12 October 1963, BOAC flight #501 from London landed right on time at 6:55 a.m. A man in his late fifties wearing a heavy green overcoat shuffled down the stairway from the plane. A big floppy Russian hat concealed a lot of his face. But, under the brim of that hat, like beacons of a profoundly wise soul, George Aschenbrenner SJ has written for this journal every couple of years since 1966. His current address is Campion Hall; University of Scranton; Scranton, Pennsylvania 18510. r~l!4~a --- ~ 63.2 2004 Ascbenbrenner ¯ Windows of rise Soul two lively grayish-blue eyes greeted sights not seen for twenty-seven years. At least ten years before, his Jesuit brothers in the New York Province had offered for him the customary two Masses for deceased Jesuits. Now Father Walter Ciszek of the Society of Jesus had risen from the dead. Those dancing guileless eyes, those soul-beacons, told a stoW immediately that it would take years to get into words: two books written painstakingly with the gracious competent help of Father Dan Flaherty, a brother Jesuit. But, if you ever had the chance to meet Father Ciszek, you got the whole stoW in those eyes. My experience of Walter was that those lively eyes, those bottomless wells of love, joy, and humble confidence, conveyed more than any hand gestures ever could. Dramatic gesturing was not his way of communicating. Like a diamond those eyes sparkled with a wisdom, a peace, a humble confidence, but first and foremost a startling freedom. On that October day at New York's Idlewild airport, Father Walter was free, free from KGB surveillance, free from restriction on his priestly min-istry, free from the brittle cold, free from his starvation diet, free from the threat of death at almost any moment. But freedom was something he had known truly and profoundly for the last twenty-one years--ever since that time in the dreaded Lubianka prison, a time that marked his soul for the rest of his life, a time that he would never forget. (It was a soul-changing experience, too, for oth-ers when they met him: something smiled in and leapt out of those eyes to greet you.) Early in his captivity, solitary confinement and intense interrogations night and day were wearing him down. Knowing he was not guilty of the espionage charges, he thought that all he had to do was explain this clearly and definitely to his questioners. But a combination of forces--first the repeated questionings like a pile driver hammering into Review for Religious his head and heart and then the cold deaf ear to his labored and elaborately explicit defense--became too much for him. He gave up. He quit. He signed an admis-sion of his guilt--just to get it over with. Back in his cell, however, and all by himself again, it hit him. He had given in to free himself of this harass-ment of his soul. His motive had been selfish, filled with ego, and had lost much awareness of God's love and care. He felt ashamed and confounded. In that disheartened state of mind, though, he felt relief that, during the fif-teen years of hard labor in Siberia to which he had been sentenced, at least the solitary confinement and the mad-dening questions would stop. This relief was short-lived. Soon he was told that there would be four more years at Lubianka to "clarify" some of the issues to which he had confessed. The deaf-ening, soul-splitting interrogation began again. It seemed more than he could handle. What he had hoped to get out of by signing the paper was beginning all over again. An overwhelming despair descended upon him, a loss of hope and faith. He felt absolutely helpless. He was at rock bottom. You and I have sometimes felt helpless; we know that even brief moments of helplessness are fear-some. But most of us have never plumbed the depths to which he fell at that moment, all alone, in Lubianka. But, at this moment of feeling bankruptcy of soul, at this lowest point in his whole life, something happened. He stepped across a boundary line. No, to be more exact, he did not step across: he was lifted across. In that moment of despair, he remembered an olive grove some two thousand years ago. Jesus, Son of Mary and Son of God, having chosen to be faithful to his identity and mis-sion in the face of looming certain death, had collapsed in helplessness, had hit rock bottom (Mk 14:32-42). Through his surrender, through his self-abandon-ment, Jesus was rescued, he was freed. The impending 63.2 20O4 Aschenbrenner * Windows of the Soul Walter Ciszek's contemplation of Jesus" agony in the garden gave new meaning to his own despairing helplessness. horrific suffering and death were not taken away, but something shifted deep inside. A freedom, a humble con-fidence, lifted his soul because the eyes of a dearly loving, caring Father were still gazing on him, even in his utter helplessness. In fact, now he knew it in some new way: no depth of helplessness could ever be beyond the loving, life-giving gaze of those eyes. Those eyes, there in Gethsemane, both looked deep into his soul and also revealed a bottomless love and care deeper than any doubt or frustration. Walter Ciszek's contemplation of Jesus' agony in the garden--a prayer that just came upon him, he did not reach out for it--gave new meaning to his own despair-ing helplessness. As in the case of Jesus, Father Ciszek's fear was transformed into freedom, and his feelings of danger and despair became confidence and happiness. Now nothing seemed to worry or trouble him anymore. At an apparent depth of no return, he had learned that God would never leave him, but would take care of him even if he were killed. Astonishing, simply amazingm talk about a new heart and a new freedom! He could say with St. Paul: "I am ready for anything through the strength of the One who lives within me" (Ph 4:13). That prayer along with Jesus in the garden marked Walter Ciszek for life right into eternity. He would never forget that prayer. Yes, Walter Ciszek became profoundly free in Lubianka twenty-one years before he stepped off a plane in the United States. The Word of God had leapt off the page anew in the person, the presence, the eyes of the Review for Religious risen Jesus. Now nothing he did, nowhere he was taken, nothing that happened to him, absolutely nothing could separate Walter Ciszek from the risen Jesus. In his own agony of despair and helplessness, he had been gifted with a very special awareness of God's love. This gave him an invincible trust, whatever the future might hold. Nothing could really hurt him now because he was in God's loving hands, more than he had ever realized before. Yes, the eyes are windows into the soul. But the eyes of holiness are also reflectors. Holiness reflects the radi-ance of Someone Else's loving eyes. Just as Jesus knew the gaze of a dear Father's eyes, Walter Ciszek experi-enced God's loving gaze in the depths of his despair and helplessness. That same loving gaze blesses us all, each and every one, with a freedom and a trust that does not take all suffering out of our lives, but does enliven our hearts, our souls, and our eyes. It is no surprise that, whenever my friends and I met Father Ciszek, we felt we were meeting more than just that courageous, peaceful little man. Those lively, gray-ish- blue, dancing eyes were windows glistening with the wisdom, the freedom, the love of his soul. Those eyes mirrored the steady gaze of Jesus' love--a love that moti-vated everything Walter Ciszek did, a love that got him through fifteen years of undeserved hard labor in prison and five years of undeserved solitary confinement, a love that burned in his soul and left him unscarred by bitter-ness, anger, revenge. The eyes of Walter Ciszek told the story of his soul, a story of courageous love in incredible suffering and of invincible trust against all odds, because the most impor-tant story of love always glistens in the eyes of the risen Jesus. 6~.2 2004 mentoring FRED HERRON Merton and a Spirituality for Millennials Young people who grew up in the late 20th cen-tury, sometimes called millennials, easily relate to Thomas Merton as someone not entirely comfortable in any one place. Like him, they find it hard to root themselves in one "abiding place.''1 They are more comfortable describing themselves as "spiritual" rather than "religious." For them the paradigm shift that Merton illu-minated in his lifetime seems a dramatic release from the moorings of the stable past and an optimistic embarkation on a journey. By high-lighting such a change in his life and thought, Merton managed to offer direction and some cautions to those who would follow. Dwelling and Seeking Robert Wuthnow has argued convincingly that a major change took place in the spiritual Fred Herron is chairperson of the religious-studies depart-ment at Fontbonne Hall Academy and a member of the Department of Theology and Religious Studies at St. John's University, Staten Island. He may be addressed at Fonthonne Hall Academy; 9901 Shore Road; Brooklyn, New York 11209. Review.for Religious practice of the last half of the 20th century. He suggests that "a traditional spirituality of inhabiting sacred places has given way to a new spirituality of seeking." He con-trasts these two viewpoints this way: "A spirituality of dwelling emphasizes habitation: God occupies a definite place in the universe and creates a sacred space in which humans too can dwell." On the other hand, "a spiritual-ity of seeking emphasizes negotiation: individuals search for sacred moments that reinforce their conviction that the divine exists, but these moments are fleeting.''z Both forms of spirituality have found their place in the history of religions, and the world religions have sup-plied rich imagery for both. Wuthnow points out that, "in settled times, people have been able to create a sacred habitat and to practice habitual forms of spirituality. [However,] in unsettled times, they have been forced to negotiate with themselves and with each other to find the sacred." Settled times evoke an imagery of dwelling, and unsettled times one of journeys. In the former, "the sacred is fixed, and spirituality can be found within the gathered body of God's people; in the latter, the sacred is fluid, portable, and spirituality must be pursued with a sense of God's people having been dispersed.''3 A habitation spirituality is suggested by the Garden of Eden and a land of milk and honey. A spirituality of seeking, on the other hand, is illustrated by the taber-nacle and the tents of pilgrims and travelers. The first form can be seen in the secure routine of the monastery, the cloister, while the latter is seen as an ongoing journey. The story of the Shulamite woman draws the dis-tinction between these two spiritualities. At first she revels in the security of her spiritual home: "Our bed is green, the beams of our houses are cedar, and the rafters of fir" (Sg 1:16-17). Later, however, she wanders, seek-ing the warmth she has lost: "I will rise now., and go 63.2 2004 Herron ¯ Mertion and a Spirituality for Millennials about the city. In the streets and in the squares, I will seek the one I love" (Sg 3:2). Merton's metaphors of the "citadel" and of the "wide, impregnable country" point to similar visions.4 Note that both are images of security, but the former suggests secu-rity and the latter.openness and freedom. In the citadel there is isolation from others, whereas in the wide coun-try there is room for an indefinite number of people seeking God. A spirituality of dwelling seems to be more secure, while a spirituality of seeking seems less constraining. Both offer freedom, but quite different kinds of free-dom. Familiar places offer the freedom of not having to worry where the next meal is coming from, since both caring people and known resources are available. Anne Truitt describes this experience as "the lighthearted feel-ing of being in a litter of kittens.''5 That understanding of freedom is comparable to not worrying about achiev-ing any particular objective, that is, not feeling "bound by an inexorable result [but being] like the birds or lilies ¯. without care." 6 Seeking and Freedom The fifth volume of Thomas Merton's letters, VVitness to Freedom, suggests that there are three stages in his understanding of the growing freedom that is central to a spirituality of seeking.7 In Merton's youth, freedom meant doing whatever he pleased. The second stage came with his entrance into the monastery of Gethsemani in 1941. Merton recalls that, when Brother Matthew met him at the monastery gate, led him through that gate, and then locked it, "I was enclosed in the four walls of my new freedom." s This was the freedom of the citadel, the freedom to do what he was told and to keep the rules. Freedom here became obedience, one portion of the monastic Rule. Review for Religious Keeping the rules is central to both of these stages. In the first, the rules are the problem. In the second, the rules are the solution to the problem. The third stage led Merton to view freedom in a very different light: freedom as an inner reality guided much more from within than from without. In con-templation, Merton realized, we meet God, and in meeting God we discover our deepest freedom. People achieve this third level of freedom, a sense in which their deepest selves are in God and express God, to the extent that they rid themselves of the illu-sions that distort reality for them.9 Merton wrote to Jacques Maritain of these illusions: "There are great illusions to be got ridden of, and there is a false self that has to be taken off. There is still much to be changed before I will really be living in the truth and in nothingness and in humility and without any more self-concern." 10 The road to true freedom is strewn with idols: the false god, the false self, and the false image of God's crea-tures. A false vision of God causes us to see God as one among many, not as absolute, the Hidden Ground of Love, from whom all things come and in whom all things are sustained.ll From this arises the false self, for, instead of being an image of the true God, the self tends to become an image of the false god. Finally, to be fully free, we need to be liberated from the illusions that mark our relationships with other human beings and with the rest of God's creation. What, then, is the freedom that Thomas Merton con-siders essential to this spirituality of seeking? It is the freedom to choose the good and not to choose "freely" In contemplation, Merton realized, we meet God, and in meeting God we discover our deepest freedom. 63.2 2004 Herron ¯ Merton and a Spirituality for Millennials between two realities such as good and evil. Merton argues that "the free man is the one whose choices have given him the power to stand on his own feet and deter-mine his own life according to the higher light and spirit that are in him.''12 He says: "The mere ability to choose between good and evil is the lowest limit of freedom, and the only thing that is free about it is the fact that we can still choose good. To the extent that you are free to choose evil, you are not free. An evil choice destroys freedom . Perfect spiritual freedom is a total inabil-ity to make any evil choice." 13 St. Benedict's Rule and the Spirituality of Seeking The contrast between a spirituality of habitation and a spirituality of seeking is evident in the 6th-century Rule of St. Benedict. The Cistercian monk takes three vows: stability, obedience, and conversatio. Stability emphasizes setdedness, a "permanent and lifelong attach-ment to the monastery of one's profession." 14 Conversatio connotes the changeable life of the spirit. It is "a com-mitment to live faithfully in unsettled times and to keep one's life sufficiently unsettled to respond to the chang-ing voice of God." ~5 It involves a commitment to con-stant progress in virtue. The monk can never say that he has done enough. It is "the vow to respond totally and integrally to the word of Christ, 'Come, follow me,' by renouncing all that might impede one in following him untrammeled, all that might obscure one's clarity of intent and confuse one's resolve."16 As such, it is a source of peace. Peace comes when there is a "willingness to renounce our petty selves and find our true selves beyond ourselves in others, and above all in Christ." 17 Obedience here suggests a commitment to both sta-bility and conversatio. This is an obedience to God in all things. The monk uses this obedience as a means to grow closer to God. It is the obedience of faith in the context Review for Religious of love and discipleship. The wisdom of St. Bernard is that dwelling and seeking, stability and conversatio, are both part of what it means to be human.18 The desire for a dwelling, for a citadel or fortress of solitude, is evi-dent in the fact that people associate God with churches, synagogues, and temples. It is intimated by the feelings that are aroused by memories of the house in which we were raised or by the uprooting we feel when we need to move. A human habitat takes on sacred meaning, becom-ing a home that has a "heart and a soul," an abode that can be lived in with grace and in "the power of bene-dictions." 19 Merton spoke about Gethsemani, especially in his early years there, as a "sign of Christ.''2° Thomas Merton and a Generation of Seekers Americans live in increasingly complex and perilous times. We face conditions that appear to be spinning wildly out of control--terrorism, environmental pollu-tion, worldwide hunger and poverty, AIDS, crime. A spir-ituality of dwelling may appeal to many people, especially when reli-gious leaders promise secure space in which to worship God in famil-iar ways. For some, the purpose of any congre-gation will be to pro-vide a haven amidst the uncertainties of modern times. A spirituality of seeking, however, will appeal to more of the American people, precisely because it lets them choose their own understandings and their own ways of worshiping. For them, the believing community is less a haven than a supplier of spiritual goods and services. Neither style is entirely satisfactory. Both arise out of our conversation with our past. While earlier genera- The believing community is less a haven than a supplier of spiritual goods and services. 63.2 2004 Herron ¯ Merton and a Spirituality for Millennials tions found some peace and security in a spirituality of inhabiting, later ones take pride in being on a spiritual journey. This shift has roots in our immigrant history.21 Until the beginning of World War II, when Thomas Merton entered the monastery at Gethsemani, ethnic groups were still influenced largely by their immigrant experience. They had come looking for a better life. Together they built institutions. They came in search of both physical and spiritual homes. After the war they worked feverishly at the task of building new houses. Levittown came to symbolize that desire, and the Cold War represented a threat to that dream. The decade of the 1950s was to be an ending as well as a beginning in that regard. The world has changed substantially since the pres-idency of Dwight Eisenhower. Change has become a general condition of every part of modern life. The 1950s gave way to an era of racial unrest, political turmoil, and environmental havoc. The children of the 1960s seemed out of control and all too willing to question authority. That changing world is the world that Thomas Merton inhabited and somewhat came to personify. But the later Merton was firmly rooted in the earlier one. That is, his willingness to stand on his own two feet was not the mark of a radical individualist undertaking a ruggedly individualistic spiritual journey. Rather, it was the mark of a "free" human being dedicated to living faithfully in unsettled times as a person firmly in "one dear perpetual place." Stability, for Merton, was rooted in his relationship to his monastic family and his work within the monastery. It was the dedication of one who had come to grips with the allure of worldliness and won, leaving it behind in search of greener pastures. Merton was not claiming an "abiding place," for the Spirit of God did not let him put a mere place above the call of fidelity. His commitment was not simply to a commu- Review for Religious nity, but ultimately to the God who told him, "Come, follow me." A portion of Merton's enduring legacy to the mil-lennial generation rests precisely in his understanding of the Rule of St. Benedict. He cautions the next gener-ation about undertaking a journey for its own sake or in search of illusory goals. Better to live firmly in a com-munity that demands your constant focus on growth. If that involves a journey, so be it. But the journey, the "road trip," is not an end in itself. It needs to serve a greater truth. The challenge of conversatio for today's young people is to be constantly open to going where God takes them and not where the illusory goals of a consumer culture or a warrior culture might lead them. The call of obedience is to cling tightly to God and to the gift of true discipleship. Like the gyre that William Butler Yeats describes in his poem "The Second Coming," Merton struggled in his personal life and on his spiritual journey to find a way for the center to hold, to find a way toward some form of final integration[ The point where stability and conversatio meet was, for him, in obedience. Obedience holds both together, insisting that both are essentials in the spiritual life. Merton not only illuminates the dra-matic upheavals of our recent past, but points a way to our future. Notes ~ Dean Hoge, William Dinges, Mary Johnson SNDdeN, and Juan Gonzales, Young Adult Catholics: Religion in the Culture of Choice (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 2001); James L. Heft SM and James D. Davidson, "The Mission of Catholic High School and Today's Millennials: Three Suggestions," Catholic Education 6 (June 2003): 410-422; T.P. Waiters, "Millennial Youth: Facts, Figures, and Priestly Vocations," in T.P. Waiters and B. Crawford, eds., The Millennial Generation: Hearing God's Call (St. Meinrad, Indiana: Abbey Press, 2001), pp. 15-25; and James D. Davidson et al., The Search for Common Ground: What Unites and Divides American Catholics (Huntington, Indiana: Our Sunday Visitor, 1999). 63.2 2004 Herron ¯ Merton and a Spirituality for Millennials 2 Robert Wuthnow, After Heaven: Spirituality in America since the 19YOs (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1998), pp. 3-4. 3 Wuthnow, After Heaven, p. 4. 4 Donald Grayston, Thomas Merton's Rewriting: The Five Versions of Seeds/New Seeds of Contemplation as a Key to the Development of His Thought (New York: Edwin Mellen Press, 1985), p. 371. See also Thomas Merton, The Seven Storey Mountain (New York: Harcourt, Brace, 1948), p. 33. s Anne Truitt, Daybook, the Journal of an Artist (New York: Pantheon Books, 1982), p. 22. 6 Thomas Merton, "Elias--Variations on a Theme," in his The Strange Islands (New York: New Directions, 1959), p. 233. 7 Thomas Merton, Witness to Freedom: The Letters of Thomas Merton in Times of Crisis (New York: Farrar, Straus, and Giroux, 1994). 8 Merton, Seven Storey Mountain, p. 372. 9 Thomas Merton, Turning toward the World: The Pivotal Years, Vol. 4 of The Journals of Thomas Merton (HarperSanFrancisco, 1996), p. 146. ~0 Thomas Merton, The Courage for Truth: The Letters of Tbomas Merton to Writers (New York: Farrar, Straus, and Giroux, 1993), p. 39. ~1 Thomas Merton, The Hidden Ground of Love: Letters of Thomas Merton on Religious Experience and Social Concerns (New York: Farrar, Straus, and Giroux, 1985), p. 452. ,2 Thomas Merton, The New Man (New York: Farrar, Straus, and Cudahy, 1961), pp. 178-179. 13 Thomas Merton, New Seeds of Contemplation (New York: New Directions, 1962), p. 199. 14 Thomas Merton, The Monastic Journey (Kansas City: Andrews and McMeel, 1977), pp. 66-68. is Wuthnow, After Heaven, p. 6. ~6 Merton, Monastic Journey, p. 110. 17 Merton, Monastic Journey, p. 40. ~8 Timothy Fry, ed., The Rule of Saint Benedict (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1982); Brian C. Taylor, Spirituality for Everyday Living: An Adaptation of the Rule of Saint Benedict (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1989); Joan Chittister, Wisdom Distilled from the Daily: Living the Rule of Saint Benedict Today (New York: HarperCollins, 1991), Eviatar Zerubavel, Hidden Rhythms: Schedules and Calendars in Social Life (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1981). 19 Mark Twain, cited in Witold Rybczynski, The Most Beautiful House in the World (New York: Penguin Books, 1989), p. 171. Review for Religious 20 Michael Mott, The Seven Mountains of Thomas Merton (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1984), p. 208. 2, Oscar Handlin, The Uprooted (New York: Little, Brown, 1951). Class Reunion The women, this fiftieth June after June Graduations, have buried the men: at this Table for ten, there are two husbands, Their two wives, a nun, and a quintet Of well-dressed, well-coiffed survivors, Not one a mere relict, but all Junoesque, Carrying Junoesque handbags at arms" ends. The nun carries nothing. The pair of men Draw together, only to be drawn apart Again by the women who treasure their presence: All that is left as stand-ins for the children. Amiably passed from widow to widow and back To spouse, they are lost, hosts at a table With too many partners, until saved, saved By the nun whose last name no one can Remember, sistering them with shy veiled Smiles, her innocence bridging the gap Between that June and this, seeming fifty Years younger than all the rest. The banquet Is served . Could Sister please bless? Nancy G. Westerfield 63.2 2004 LAURA SWAN Paradox in the Monastery: Lessons from Two Ammas Mwost of us have grown up with family stories that e have "always" been "familiar" with. This is oral tradition. Certain stories get told over and over, recalling the colorful, poignant, even troubling members and events of our families and congregations. Stories are retold among friends, families, and religious communities because the memory of them touches us deeply. They tell us something of who we are and where we have been. Stories unpack the mystery of the present and give us guidance into the future. We pass particular stories on because they have shaken something awake within us and we desire to share this awareness with others. We want to remember the lessons learned. Vowed religious remember stories retold about religious over the centuries along with the stories of their own monasteries and congregations. Which stories are dusted off and retold (and embellished) often says much about who we are and what we struggle with. Stories contain and sustain our cultural values. They assist in Laura Swan OSB, author of The Forgotten Desert Mothers, is prioress of St. Placid Priory; 500 College Street N.E.; Lacey, Washington 98516. Web page www.stplacid.org, and email to lswan@stplacid.org. Review for Religious passing on the traditions of our monasteries, congre-gations, faith communities, and families. In the desert of the early Christian movement, stories were collected, remembered, and passed on. Even today stories preserve the memory and teachings of the desert ascetics, the ammas and abbas who lived at the beginning of Christian monasticism. They sought the desert, a place of intense solitude, in order to focus their pursuit of the Holy One with single-minded devotion and limited distractions. Their goal was union with God. These stories formed an early oral tradition now known as Sayings (apothegms, apophtheg~nata). Side by side with this movement into the desert was a movement toward an evolving Christian monasticism. The desert ascetics were often associated with monastic communities. Eremitic communities were little more than groups of cells in the desert where the seekers occasionally met for teaching, prayer, and exhortation. There was no standard monasticism at this period. Religious life was quite diverse in all its expressions; every monastic community had its own rule and traditions. Two leading figures in the development of monasticism in Egypt were Pachomius (ca. 282-346) of Tabennisi in upper Egypt and Shenoute (ca. 348-464) of Atripe, also in upper Egypt. Writings of their followers, often called Lives, give us insight into the struggles and aspirations of early religious life and of Christianity itself. Many stories from the desert reflect the tensions of diverse expressions of Christianity and tensions between those seeking to articulate statements of belief, as in the Arian and Trinitarian controversies. The Holy Drunken Woman I would like to look at two stories. They confront us with paradox, and their themes are repeated in other stories from the desert) As the first story goes, on the feast 63.2 2004 Swan * Paradox in the Monastery of Abba Apollo, Abba Daniel went to the Upper Thebaid, visiting first the monastic community of men and then the monastic community of women. The community of three hundred women was called the Monastery of Abba Jeremiah, led by a "mother archimandrite.''2 In this story the women "violate" the tradition of not permitting men in their monastery in order to welcome a particularly venerated and beloved elder of the desert. In the tradition of desert hospitality, these monastic women welcome Abba Daniel and his companion into their monastery chapel and wash their feet. The women then bless themselves with the water used. Then they ask for a blessing and a word of teaching or exhortation. As the women seek a wise word from Abba Daniel--a common trait of desert stories--the scene shifts to an anonymous member of the women's monastery who remained away from the rest of the community. This anonymous nun believed to be drunk is asleep in the forecourt of the church, wearing clothing that is in shreds. Abba Daniel asks the mother archimandrite who this nun is, and he is told: "She's a drunk and we don't know what to do with her; we're afraid to take the responsibility of throwing her out of the monastery, and if we let her stay she demoralizes the sisters." 3 The community then redirects Abba Daniel to their refectory for a shared meal. Interestingly we are told that the women served the men simple vegetarian fare while they themselves ate well. When Abba Daniel inquires about this seeming disparity and violation of hospitality, the mother archimandrite responds: "You are a monk, and I served you a monk's food. Your disciple is a monk's disciple, and I served him a disciple's food. We, however, are novices, and we ate novices' food.''4 By example the women have exalted the venerable teacher by lowering themselves in an eccentric yet enticing paradox. Before leaving, Abba Daniel again concerns himself Review for Religious with the "drunken" nun, who was seen sleeping by the toilets. The men had been watching her. As the monastery retired for sleep, the woman rose and stood in a position of tearful supplication or prostrated herself in contrition. Whenever a nun came out to use the toilet, she would throw herself on the ground and snore. Abba Daniel calls the mother archimandrite, who joins him in observing this behavior. Realizing that the nun is merely feigning drunkenness and remembering her own mistreatment of her, the mother archimandrite confesses her own sin with deep conviction and contrition. When the "drunken" nun realizes that she has been discovered, she cleverly steals Abba Daniel's cowl and staff and disappears into the desert. The story concludes with Abba Daniel and the mother archimandrite declaring the "drunken" nun to be one of God's hidden servants. The woman rose and stood in a position of tearful supplication or prostrated herself in contrition. The Woman Who Feigned Madness From Palladius we learn of a women's monastery at Tabennisi in which a member feigned madness and demon possession.5 She was treated with contempt, and the other nuns avoided her company. This "mad" nun voluntarily worked at the most menial jobs in the kitchen. She wore a rag on her head while other members cropped their hair short and wore a cowl. She ate the scraps and leftovers only. She was never angry and never grumbled; she rarely spoke--all in the midst of being treated with contempt. She was insulted, cursed, and loathed by the other nuns. 63.2 2004 Swan ¯ Paradox in the Monastery An angel appears to Abba Piteroum, another venerated desert ascetic, inviting him to meet someone more holy then he, and a mere woman at that! The angel sends him to Tabennisi with a challenge: This woman is continually mistreated by her community and yet never takes her heart off God, while our venerable abba dwells in his cell yet wanders about the cities in his mind--a theme found throughout desert teachings, including the Sayings ofAmma Syncletica.6 For his angelic lesson, Abba Piteroum arrives at the women's monastery to see this holy woman, whom the nuns call "touched." She resists meeting him, but is physically forced into his presence. He immediately recognizes her as spiritually mature by an intuition of mind and heart. He falls at her feet seeking her blessing, and she responds by falling at his feet seeking his blessing, both vying to express their humility. The nuns are aghast. Abba Piteroum declares the touched nun to be the community's true spiritual mother. The nuns recognize the truth of his words and immediately begin to confess their mistreatment of this unknown amma and elder. Now elevated to "venerable," she cannot tolerate the place of honor and disappears from the community-- another common theme of the desert. The Paradox Most of us have experienced difficult people--in our congregations and monasteries, in our professional lives, in our faith communities and families. These are the people who know our buttons and hooks well. They have an innate ability to stir up our anger and impatience and frustration. These are the people who can make day-to-day living exasperating and an exercise in profound patience. Our inner reactions to these difficult people tell us more about ourselves than we care to admit. They gift us with all this opportunity for asceticism--and are Review for Religious usually quite unaware of it. While our history as religious seekers and as vowed religious includes eras of health-damaging fasts, hair shirts and nail beds, my Irish forebears standing for long periods in freezing cold water, and whips--these are all self-imposed ascetical practices of dubious value. These false ascetical practices betray our neo-Pelagian and neo- Jansenist hearts.7 Desert ascetics remind us that life hands us authentic asceticism: meetings, deadlines, "smallness" of income in the midst of aging, the ministrations that frail members call for, authority and obedience in tension in our individualistic culture, and difficult community members. Families have difficulty building and sustaining relationships in a culture that undermines those values and commitments. Desert ascetics sought to The desert tradition was intended to force the seeker to face self without distractions, illusions, or barriers. disappear, taking their wisdom with them. We know that the greater challenge is to build healthy communities and a healthy church. To us it seems the easier thing to disappear, to seek hiddenness. Yet the desert tradition was intended to force the seeker to face self without distractions, illusions, or barriers. Today's desert ascetics are, first and foremost, students of the desert and the spiritual difficulty encountered there. The desert teaches them self-knowledge and self-awareness. It teaches them to listen deeply and intensely. Daily they come to know a bit better who they are before God. While growing in awareness of who they are and who they are not, they detach themselves from reputation and any need to 63.2 2004 Swan ¯ Paradox in the Monastery defend themselves from those who may attack it. In the old and colorful stories, ascetics go beyond detachment from reputation to distancing themselves from others in order to live alone for God. We savor these stories because they invite us to multiple meanings, because they do not allow us a simplistic answer. Contemporary religious life recognizes--and painfully grows more aware of---fragile, disturbed, and disrupting members. Our call is to handle these troubling members wisely and compassionately, and at times firmly. We try to minimize the disruptions that wounded unruly members are capable of; we listen and ask ourselves what they are here to teach us. Often the stories we have retained and repeat pertain to the graced insights we have been given, the humor and lessons we have learned. Biblical scholar Walter Brueggemann speaks of the capacity of the Psalms to move us from orientation, through disorientation, to a new position of re-orientationf We experience times of disequilibrium, yet when God is there with us beautiful psalms can be birthed. In many ways this experience occurred in the lives of the desert ascetics. They were thrust into disorientation by accepting the gospel and striving to follow its earnest call by living in the desert or monastery. After each new experience of reorientation, the desert ascetics would be thrust again into disorientation through continued ascetical practices that could bring them to ever closer union with God. This rhythm stripped the seekers of all that separated their truest selves from God. The nun who feigned madness and the holy "drunken" woman open up the paradox that troubled members, nonconforming members, and the mentally ill confront us with. These women speak to us of the paradox of ultimate detachment, of letting go of all that keeps us from an intense relationship with God and our truest selves. And they are paradoxes because their pursuit Review for Religious of interior freedom causes disruption for others. These women certainly speak to us of ways that God is found outside our concept of "normal." And yet these women of old both challenge and help us to provide pastoral care for our nonconformist members who struggle with the daily reality of living out their vowed commitment or are mentally ill. We anguish on behalf of troubled members around questions of ability and willingness to live the demands of our life calling. Careful discernment is demanded of us. Is this person confronting a systemic problem in the monastery or community? Is she a prophetic element? What does the fruit of her behavior tell us? These women remind us that our teachers and mentors may come in the form of Balaam's ass--or a holy "drunken" woman or a woman who feigns madness. Indeed our troubling members call forth the strength of compassion and steadfastness and vision in ways we did not ever foresee. Sometimes we discover our best selves-- and sometimes our worst self comes out. These stories clearly teach the paradox of who was actually troubled: the woman or the community? The holy "drunken" woman and the woman who feigned madness behaved in disturbing ways, but were revealed to have pure hearts intent on God, while others manifested conformity and even appropriate conduct (not always the same thing) but inwardly lacked something even to the point of behaving badly. We are presented with a paradox, with a teach-ing/ learning moment. Discernment is necessary. What appears as "bad" is shown to be "good." What is in us-- our purity of heart, or our lack of it--is exposed. We are presented with classic stories of the desert, stories that support the desert goal of apatheia. Apatheia is the interior state in which people no longer have to struggle against inordinate attachments. Through 63.2 2004 Swan ¯ Paradox in the Monastery The desert ascetics taught all to deliberately let go of whatever keeps us from the single-minded pursuit of God. profound interior freedom, they are not pulled hither and yon by various worldly, desires. Apatheia is a mature mindfulness, a sound sensitivity, and a keen attention to one's inner world and to the outer world in which one has been living. Apatheia is purity of heart. The desert ascetics taught all to deliberately let go of whatever keeps us from the single-minded pursuit of God: feelings and thoughts that bind us or others, cravings and addictions that diminish feelings of worth, and attachments to self-imposed perfectionism. The paradoxical questions are: Does my purity of heart support my fellow seekers' own interior journey? Is it inappropriate if my purity of heart disrupts your journey? How do we discern this together? Desert ascetics faced suffering with determination and courage. They understood that suffering often has roots in their own attachments to thoughts, attitudes, motives, relationships, and reputation. Suffering was the avenue towards freedom, and detachment the avenue towards maturity and humility. And yet there are innumerable stories from desert monastic communities--possibly Shenouteand the White Monastery being the most famous--where misbehavior and harshness were too common.9 Benedict of Nursia's own Rule reveals a monastic leader purified by the fire of members' unruly misbehavior and matured by his attempts to curb it. The "mad" nun and the "drunken" woman remind us that the pursuit of holiness is a lifelong journey. Review for Religious As in all good stories, we are not given easy answers to hard questions. Paradox lives on and calls for discernment. We need self-awareness in order to understand what power the stories have and why we repeat them in our dining rooms. The "mad" nun and the "drunken" woman confront us: Who are our teachers? From whom are we willing to learn? At whose feet do we sit to receive the wisdom of desert cell and monastery? Are we alert to unexpected opportunities to learn? What do we do when our presumptions, prejudices, and expectations are exposed and thwarted? How do we discern? With whom do we discern? Who are our wise elders? Notes l I am drawing from Tim Vivian, "Witness to Holiness: Abba Daniel of Scetis," Coptic Church Review 24, nos. 1 and 2 (Spring and Summer 2003): 2-52. See also L~on Clugnet, "Vie et R~cits de l'Abbd Daniel de Sc~t~," Revue de l'Orient Chr~tien 5 (1900): 67-70. See also Witness to Holiness: Abba Daniel of Scetis, ed. Tim Vivian (Kalamazoo: Cistercian Publications, forthcoming). z Archimandrite is a term usually used only in the Orthodox and Coptic Christian traditions, referring to a leader of the monastery. 3 Vivian, "Wimess," p. 36. 4 Vivian, "Witness," p. 36. 5 Primarily I am using Palladius, Lausiac History, ed. and trans. Robert Meyer, Vol. 34 of Ancient Christian Writers series, ed. Johannes Quasten (New York: Newman Press, 1964), pp. 96-98. 6 Palladius, p. 97, and see The Life of Blessed Syncletica by Pseudo- Athanasius, ed. and trans. Elizabeth Bryson Bongie (Toronto: Peregrina Publishing, 1995). 7 Pelagius's name is given to the heresy that denies original sin and claims that human beings can choose the good on their own and thereby effect their own salvation. We see echoes of this in the posunodern North American and western European culture. Jansen's name is given to the heresy that human nature is so flawed by original sin that special grace is needed to follow Christ. His teachings around determinism are quite similar to Calvin's teachings on predestination. Jansenism was a rigorous and austere movement. I suggest that much of our perfectionist drive comes from the Jansenist influence on our culture. 63.2 2004 Swan * Paradox in the Monastery 8 See Walter Brueggemann, Praying the Psalms (Winona: St. Mary's Press, 1986). 9 See Susanna Elm, Virgins of God: The Making of Asceticism in Late Antiquity (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1994), and Rebecca Krawiec, Shenoute and the Women of the White Monastery: Egyptian Monasticism in Late Antiquity (New York: Oxford University Press, 2001). They Who Sow in Tears. These are not hollow hours that the spirit spends in tortured wrestling with a loneliness trenchant and piercing. Even this ache that rends our subtlest calm beyond each day's regress with sharp-toothed gnawing at the being's core is heaven-sent, is calculate, is more than all our orisons, presaging joyous yield. This is the "sowing in tears" within His field. Agnes Margaret Humbert CDP (nursing home, age ninety-one) Review for Religious PATRICK SEAN MOFFETT Viewing Chapters as "Authoring" Our Congregations' Narratives ~hSU~S offers us his story. While walking the streets, lls, and lakesides of his homeland, he authored in Spirited word and action the initial chapters of the defin-ing narrative of Christianity. All eyes were on him in his hometown synagogue as he proclaimed that the words of Isaiah were being fulfilled in their hearing: "The Spirit of God has been given to me and has anointed me. God has sent me to bring the good news to the poor, to proclaim liberty to captives and to the blind new sight" (Lk 4:18-19). Chapters have a unique function in the lives of reli-gious congregations and their members and in the wider church. They merit re-viewing and re-hearing from a number of vantage points. Here I present a perspective that emphasizes the storytelling nature of these eccle-sial events. Stories We Live By In the stories people tell about themselves, psychol-ogists find a manifestation of two great motivational forces: agency and communion.~ Agency refers to behav- Patdck Sean Moffett CFC writes again from Christian Brothers, Central Harlem; 74 West 124th Street; New York, N.Y. 10027. I.LJ~K.~'O"~ 63.2 2004 iors that individuals perceive as uniquely their own: I think, I feel, I do. Communion refers to people's percep-tions of relatedness, of belonging, of being integral mem-bers of a group that they experience as us or we. In chapter preparations, various "Emmaus Walks" have gained favor as ways of fostering shared discern-ment. They are making a reappearance, displacing a pre-vious decade's preference for evaluations and sorting exercises' designed to evoke an exchange on personality types or styles of human interaction. Gospel based and focusing on people's unique life journeys, Emmaus Walks facilitate personal narration. Participants are usually assigned a partner randomly. After a time of reflecting by oneself (perhaps on a given theme or a text of Scripture) or checking in on one's own current affect, the pair simply take a walk during which they express what is happening within them. These exchanges are sometimes followed by testimonies within small or large groups or by a period of shared silence and a concluding blessing or hymn. The Emmaus Walk serves as an example of the story-telling which begins anew with the announcement of a coming chapter and characterizes much of what happens throughout the time of chapter. Individual members are invited to reflect on the movement of the Spirit within their individual and. communal experiences and then to share their observations with their sisters or brothers in local, provincial, and eventually congregational contexts. "Time of chapter" is the full period extending from the first announcement through, the preparations, the prechapter gatherings, the formal opening, and the issue and voting sessions to the chapter's formal conclusion. Consecrated Life in a Time of Chapter "Why is this day different from every other day?" The child's question opening the Hebrew Passover ritual Review for Religious might be applied to the time of chapter. Consecrated life in the Christian tradition is nourished by daily atten-tion to the Spirit of Jesus working in and through the individual and the community. A call to chapter is an invitation to each and all of the members to engage in discernment that goes beyond the usual daily praxis. In personal reflection, in personal and communal prayer, in speaking and listening, the focus in the time of chap-ter is our unity within our brotherhood or sisterhood in Christ. Our individual stories are narrated within the communal story. We attend individually to movements of the Spirit that may be intended for the whole community. I attend within myself, within the community, and within the people we are called to serve. I willingly risk asking if there is something in our shared life that I am called at this time to affirm, to question, to challenge, or to propose. I risk accepting a call to prophesy, a call to speak to my brothers or sisters in the name of God. I listen with special attention to those who speak in ways that challenge me, that call me to deeper levels of relationship with them and with our God. I test the spir-its that are stirring among us. I listen with mind and heart, noting particularly what evokes strong signs of passion, dissonance, or consent. Collectively, the members of the congregation under-stand that a general chapter is a defining moment in the ongoing story of their institute. Canon law is quite explicit: In an institute the general chapter has supreme author-ity in accordance with the constitutions. It is to be composed in such a way that it represents the whole institute and becomes a true sign of its unity in char-ity. Its principal functions are to protect the patri-mony of the institute . . . and to foster appropriate renewal in accord with that patrimony. It also elects the supreme moderator, deals with matters of greater importance, and issues norms which all are bound to obey. (c. 631, §i) 63.2 2004 Moffett ¯ Viewing Cbapt~ The New Testament offers what might be considered models of chapter. Stories within a Story The New Testament offers what might be considered models of chapter. Jesus gathers the disciples on the return from their first mission. They share stories marveling at all they had done and taught (Mk 6:30). Jesus chooses a committee consisting of Peter, James, and John to wit-ness the transfiguration. As Jesus approaches the time of his passion, he gathers the full group as friends at a meal in an upper room. He ritualizes his role among them as one who serves, and he enjoins them to follow his example. He speaks with great intimacy of his rela-tionship with his Father and with them, and of their incor-poration into his continuing story. He announces a new commandment revealing the defining characteristics of their agency and their commu-nion. "As I have loved you, you love one another. By this all will know that you are my disciples" On 13:3 4). Several postresurrection encounters are similar. Peace, self-reve-lation, and a shared mission are the recurrent themes. In the Acts of the Apostles, as the members of the early church confront issues of leadership, community management, and inclusiveness, there is a coming together to consider what is happening among them, to recall the story of tlieir mission, and to decide--"we and the Holy Spirit"--where to go from here. Religious hold as a treasure, but also as a memory of painful moments, the chapter stories of their congrega-tions- times of jubilee, special fervor, and renewal, but also of schisms, suppressions, and even denunciations of their founders. In the treasures of Franciscan lore, the gathering of the friars in 1217 at Pentecost continues to suggest Review for Religious images and hopes for new generations of the sons and daughters of the Poverello. He writes to those who were to gather, encouraging them to have a listening heart and to be "cleansed and enlightened interiorly and fired with the ardor of the Holy Spirit": Listen, then, sons of God and my friars, and give ear to my words. Give hearing with all your hearts, and obey the voice of the Son of God. Keep his com-mandments wholeheartedly, and practice his counsels with all your minds. Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good; extol him in your works. This is the very rea-son he has sent you all over the world, so that by word and deed you may bear witness to his message and convince everyone that there is no other almighty God besides him. Almighty, eternal, just, and merciful God, grant us in our misery that we may do for your sake alone what we know you want us to do, and may always want what pleases you; so that, cleansed and enlightened interiorly and fired with the ardor of the Holy Spirit, we may be able to follow in the footsteps of your Son, our Lord Jesus Christ, and so make our way to you, Most High, by your grace alone, who live and reign in perfect Trinity and simple Unity, and are glorified, God omnipotent, for ever and ever. Amen.2 In 1976 Eduardo Cardinal Pironio, in his role as pre-fect of the Sacred Congregation for Religious, offered a vision that anticipated many of the directions that chap-ters have taken during the past quarter century: A chapter is not a mere study meeting, a superficial gathering or a short-lived revision of life. A chapter is essentially a paschal celebration. For this reason it is above all a "penitential" celebration which aims at liv-ing two things deeply: a sincere attitude of conver-sion and a deep and painful search., for God's will in the present necessities of consecrated life. But, since it is a real paschal celebration, it is not just the penitential aspects that interest us in a chap-ter. It is the whole extent of paschal newness, a fresh- 63.2 2004 ness in the church and a good dose of pasc.hal opti-mism. If the chapter has been celebrated well, in poverty, prayer, and brotherly charity, it is a re-cre-ation of the institute, and its spiritual riches overflow upon the church and the world. Because of all this, the chapter is a salvific event, an ecclesial event, a family event. (L'Osservatore Romano, English edition, 16 September 1976) For many congregations the "time of chapter" has become increasingly inclusive of individuals and groups with whom they are associated in life and ministry. Coworkers and those served are invited to share in many aspects of the chapter preparations and celebrations. They respond with helpful and often challenging insights, genuine affirmations, and earnest testimonies to possible applications of the congregation's charism. They clearly have a role in the story of the institute. As the chapter moves into its more formal role of supreme authority with respect to the congregation's members and its choice of leaders, the various associates join with the universal church in prayerfully awaiting, outside closed doors, the moment of a new Pentecost. The church, historically the chief beneficiary of these charismatic moments, is most attentive in protecting the members' rights and asserting their duty to discern among themselves the movement of the Spirit. J Planning the Chapter Groups engaged in chapter preparations, when asked what outcomes are most desired, readily speak of a greater unity--unity in who they are and what they are about in the name of the Lord. "By this they will know that you are my disciples." A steering committee approaches the design of a chapter with the guidelines of canon law and with the congregation's constitution, statutes, directives, and cus-toms, but also with aspects of the "Zeitgeist" or cultural Review for Religious climate of contemporary religious congregations. Resources, facilities, travel possibilities, witness, means of communication, inclusiveness, ministerial pressures, and solidarity are some of the issues that have evoked creativity and diversity in the conduct of chapters. The Spirit has been called on to adjust to a great variety of venues. Faith is supported by Jesus' promise that, wher-ever two or three are gathered in his name, he will be around for whatever will be happening. Canon law offers chapter planners two notes: § 1. Participatory and consultative bodies are faithfully to carry out the task entrusted to them, in accordance with the universal law and the institute's own law. In their own way they are to express the care and par-ticipation of all the members for the good of the whole institute or community. §2. In establishing and utilizing these means of participation and consultation, a wise discernment is to be observed, and the way in which they operate is to be in conformity with the character and purpose of the institute. (c. 633) The initial request for community members' sug-gestions about the chapter tends to elicit many concerns about content and process that go well beyond what a large gathering could address within the limited time available, and so standing or ad hoc committees are assigned the tasks of: ¯ sorting through the initial input, ¯ performing or commissioning the research necessary for a more thorough study of stated expectancies and issues, ¯ developing preliminary drafts of papers or pro-posals, and ¯ offering opportunities for the members to share an emerging story in a variety of ways. (Letters, emails, calls, community and intercommunity gather-ings, retreats, liturgies, and assemblies become part of an extended effort to incorporate into the "time of chap-ter" the experiences and issues that may not find space and time in the formal chapter gathering.) 63.2 2004 Moffett ¯ Viewing Chapters A sacred history informs the narrative of our times. All recent retellings of the story of "consecrated life" make reference to defining characteristics articulated in the Vatican II Decree on the Appropriate Renewal of Religious Life, Perfectae caritatis. Religious hear a call to be faithful as men and women of our times, as followers of Jesus and his gospel, as members of the people of God sharing the mission of the church in the world, and as religious gifted with the charism of our particular congregation? The specification of a "time of chapter" is an invita-tion for members of a congregation to become more intensely engaged in sharing stories about the action of the Spirit in our personal and communal lives. My sisters and brothers encourage me: ¯ to attend to revelation I am receiving for the group, ¯ to share that truth in love, ¯ to attend to the prophecy of my sisters and brothers, ¯ to explore the differences, and ¯ to seek in faith the light, the direction, and the leadership that will guide our shared lives and mission toward the next chapter. When the members of the congregation or their del-egates come together for the formal affairs sessions and elections, it is a time for refinement, affirmation, and actualization of a consensus that has been emerging dur-ing several months of prayerful discernment, prophetic sharing, thoughtful listening, and rearticulation of the group narrative. In the process it is the movement of the Spirit that matters. The concluding chapter sessions, in their distinct moments, are a point of arrival and a new departure. Having clarified a shared vision for the life and mission of the congregation over the next few years, the members select those who will have a leadership role in helping Review for Religious membership remain attentive to the Spirit as together-- membership, leadership, and Spirit--they author the beginning lines of a new chapter in the continuing story of the congregation. The Zeitgeist and Some Dangerous Ideas As men and women of their times, members of reli-gious congregations, especially those working at the mar-gins of society, have a special vantage point for observing the surrounding culture, but also the risk of being affected by it. Much of what once happened only at general chap-ters has become part of congregations' ongoing admin-istration. Instant communication, travel opportunities, greater exposure to global issues, international and inter-cultural exchange, shared ministries, and increased col-laboration with governmental and nongovernmental organizations have broadened our ministerial vision and reduced our corporate response time. In the process, congregations have been exposed to prevalent cultural influences; sometimes they have regressed in search of past glories and a lost sense of security. Marist Father Gerald Arbuckle sounds the alert for "Avoiding Cultural Seduction in General Chapters" (Human Development 23, no. 3, Fall 2002). Recent terrorist activity has heightened awareness and concern about what propels groups toward conflict. Researchers are examining belief systems that seem to be fueling intergroup hostilities. Psychologists Roy and Judy Eidelson, in a review of the growing body of liter-ature, have identified five belief domains particularly important for further study: superiority, injustice, vul-nerability, distrust, and helplessness.4 They suggest a consideration of what happens as these ideas are incor-porated into the self-definition of individuals and then of the group to which they belong. 63.2 2004 Moffett ¯ Viewing Chapters Extraordinary times offer obstacles and opportuni-ties for evangelization. As in all instances of empathic ministerial response to hurt and evil, we are called to find within our own stories traces of what we seek to address. Our own sinful history attunes us to what makes Congregations sometimes have regressed in search of past glories and a lost sense of security. others particularly vulner-able to prevalent cultural influences, to what the Eidelsons call "dangerous ideas." Religious need not be suicide bombers or look beyond their own congre-gational experiences to have an initial insight into the dynamics of such ideas: "I and we are the superior ones. I and we have been the victims of injustice. I and we are particularly vulnerable. I and we cannot trust those who are not like us. I and we cannot do anything to change the situation." Significant insights become apparent in the telling of our stories. Chapters in an era of world conflict are called to attend afresh to the cry of the poor within and beyond the congregation. Those whose daily ministry affords them intimate interaction with the suffering Christ have stories that can lead to new life in the con-gregation. So can the stories of those who feel the dull pain of not having such opportunities. The challenge of chapter is that of evoking and attending to all these voices and recognizing the promised Spirit within them. From Our Stories to Our Story The current ages of those telling their stories can affect the themes that arise within the group. For exam-ple, a congregation that has numbers of older members and fewer young ones may find itself discussing genera- Revlew for Religious tivity (vs. stagnation) and integrity (vs. despair) and may be left with little time or energy for issues of identity, ministry, and intimacy, issues likely to concern the younger members. Accommodations may need to be made to assure that the group story will include the graces and struggles of all the members, not just the majority. Erik Erikson was in his eighties when he published a revision of his influential description of the life cycle. He focused on the way that personal identity, the "I," becomes ever more fully integrated into a "we." He said, "The sisterhoods and brotherhoods of the 'we' come to share a joined identity experienced as most real.''s A chap-ter needs to hear the congregation story as it is expressed anew in the lives of individuals and groups within the congregation. Not all the results will accommodate tran-scription onto paper or into electronic storage. Certain matters need to be transcribed. Constitutions and statutes govern the lives of the congregation's mem-bers. The approval process needs to be enlightened with all of the knowledge, wisdom, and grace available to those whose vote on specific matters will affect the future of all of their brothers or sisters. Records of valid voting procedures legitimate the transfer and continuity of lead-ership. Accounts and decisions concerning the patrimony of the congregation affect mission feasibilities and mem-bers' welfare, and they require skilled attention. All such matters are guided by canon law and by the law and cus-toms of the congregation. The experience of chapter, of specially shared broth-erhood or sisterhood and of the participants' careful pro-cedures and conscientious voting, is not easy to share with those who were not present. When words no longer adequately describe the lived reality of our being and doing, we struggle to find new words. We have a shared understanding of our collective story, about which words 63.2 2004 Moffett ¯ Viewing ~hapten The experience of chapter is not easy to share with those who were not present. fail, but the story is accurate. We measure other stories against that one. We likewise have intuitions of ourselves and of one another. By such intuitions we know for our-selves and others what is individually appropriate or not. Some words could be mine but not yours, some clothing would be comfortable for you but not me. In music, art, recreation, and so forth, in some way all that we become engaged in carries our unique signatures. Our collective images are shared. We can identify what is Franciscan, Dominican, Jesuit, typically Christian Brother, Mercy, or CND. Every document that is "ours" will have to fit within the domain of this collective vision. No document will ever capture it fully. As most of us sur-vive quite well without a definitive autobiography, so too our congregations. While described in a plethora of his-torical documents, as long as the congregation lives in its members, the story remains "in process." On the mountain Peter offered to capture in a build-ing project the brilliant manifestation of Jesus with Moses and Elijah. John probably had in mind a first draft of the account he never needed to write. James? For cen-turies great numbers of pilgrims to Compostela in Spain have touched into stories of this apostle's own manifes-tations. They speak of conversion and special graces. Yet all we know with some degree of certainty is that this James earned the crown of martyrdom in Jerusalem early in the story of the infant church (Ac 12:1). The words of Jesus reported in the synoptic accounts of his transfiguration suggest that each of the chosen delegates took from the mountain something to be cher-ished unspoken until it was time to proclaim the Son of Review for Religious Man's resurrection. Their privileged vision was not of something that was to come, but rather of that which always is. Together they beheld for a moment the light of the one God in whom they live and breathe and have their being. Such are our chapter stories. Notes t Dan P. McAdams, The Stories We Live By (New York: Wm. Morrow and Company, 1993); David Bakan, The Duality of Human Existence: Isolation and Communion in Western Man (Boston: Beacon Press, 1966); P.S. Moffett, "Promoting Agency among Children and Adolescents at the Margins" (invited address, American Psychological Association), Journal of Pastoral Counseling 30 (1995). 2 Taken from The Writings of St. Francis of Assisi, trans. Benen Fahy OFM (London: Burns and Oates, 1964), pp. 104 and 108. 3 Perfectae caritatis, Decree on the Appropriate Renewal of the Religious Life; Instruction on Essential Elements in the Church's Teaching on Religious Life as Applied to Institutes Dedicated to Works of the Apostolate, Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes, 31 May 1983; lHta consecrata, apostolic exhortation of Pope John Paul II, 1996; Ytarting Afresh from Christ: A Renewed Commitment to Consecrated Life in the Third Millennium, CICLSAL, 19 May 2002. 4 Roy J. Eidelson and Judy I. Eidelson, "Dangerous Ideas: Five Beliefs That Propel Groups toward Conflict," American Psychologist 58, no. 3 (March 2003). s Erik Erikson, The Life Cycle Completed (London: W.W. Norton and Co., 1982). May Drunk on the wild plum, heady with endless stretches of bluebells surrendered to the woods (such are spring's goods, not to sell, but to sate novice eyes so long accustomed to the late gray winter's moods); all, all is given from these places where you, 0 Trinity, hide your faces. Eileen Haugh OSF 63.2 2004 J. THOMAS HAMEL Our Lady's Presence in the Spiritual Exercises gnatian tradition The first mention of our Lady in the Spiritual Exercises is in the first exercise of the First Week. "Preamble 1. This is the composition, seeing the place., the material place where the object I want to contemplate is situated . By 'mate-rial place' I mean, for example, a temple or a mountain where Jesus Christ or our Lady is to be found, according to what I want to contem-plate." ~ Is it by chance that the two examples given are a temple and a mountain? Major events took place in the temple (finding the lost twelve-year-old there) and, twenty years later, at the mount called Olivet (Jesus' ascension)--and who can doubt that our Lady was among the disciples there? (Lk 24:50-53; Ac 1:12-14). As a young child Mary was presented in the temple accord-ing to legend, even as later she presented her newborn to the Lord (Lk 2:22). Temple and J. Thomas Hamel SJ does spiritual direction and lives at College of the Holy Cross; 1 College Street; Worcester, Massachusetts 01610. Review for Religious mountain bring to mind what scripture scholars have long noted, that Mary was the only human person pre-sent to Jesus' life from beginning to end. The same is eminently true of her presence in the Spiritual Exercises. The first contemplation of the first day of the Second Week, on the incarnation, not only embraces the sacred event itself, but even invites retreatants to speak to "the eternal Word [so altogether newly] incarnate" in Mary's womb (§109). All of a sudden her womb is sacred space, a living temple. On the same first day, the presence and activity of our Lady is highlighted in the three points on our Lord's birth (§264). The second point simply quotes St. Luke: "She bore her firstborn son and wrapped him in swad-dling clothes and laid him in a manger" (Lk 2:7). In the third point the angelic choir sings "Glory to God in the highest" for Mary and Joseph and the child lying in the manger. (Ignatius conveniently forgets that the angels sang to the shepherds.) Putting her Son in a manger is our Lady's way of presenting him to the world. We can assume that Ignatius thought of that, and that the thought included a loving gaze at Jesus' entire life, the Life of the world. So aware of Jesus' birth in utter poverty, Ignatius recalls the arduous journey from Nazareth to Bethlehem. Ignatian contemplation is the exercise of being present first of all to details of some material things: the width of a road, its length, its smoothness or roughness, the width and depth of a cave, the size of a manger or trough, the height of a hill like Calvary. Imagined details about the route to Bethlehem invite us to be aware of the child pre-sent in Mary's womb on that long and arduous journey-- a prelude to journeys from Bethlehem to Egypt, and back to Galilee, later to the Jordan, to Samaritan territory, to Judea and Calvary. Jesus in the manger under his mother's care was the visible beginning of our finding our Savior 63.2 2004 Hamel ¯ Ou~ Lady's Pre~ence present everywhere in the world. Such is the way of the Holy Spirit at work in Ignatian contemplation. Our Lady's offering of her Son to the shepherds and to the world was a revelation, the source of Ignatius's own mysticism of apostolic gervice. Ignatian retreatants are invited to serve the needs of the mother, of Joseph, and the servant girl (§114) and, following the contem-plative gaze of Ignatius, are led on a journey that includes Christ carrying his cross to Calvary (§ 116). The mys-tery of the birth of Christ our Lord, or rather the mys-teries surrounding his birth, glow with something mystical. How else explain what Ignatius did when it was no longer possible for him and his first companions to go to the Holy Land? Thirteen months after his ordination to the priesthood, he celebrated his first Mass in the Church of St. Mary Major on 25 December 1538 at the altar of the manger in which Christ was said to have been placed. Once again Ignatius was reliving that sacred moment when our Lady placed her Son in the manger. Was the manger all along a kind of mystical manger which later prompted that long-standing desire of Ignatius that our Lady be pleased to place him with her Son? It is no sur-prise that her response was the mystical vision of La Storta in November 1537: He had resolved to remain a year, once he became a priest, without saying Mass, preparing himself and praying our Lady to be pleased to put him with her Son. And being one day

Rosa Ricci Summary of the PHD Dissertation: Religious Nonconformity and cultural Dynamics: The Case of the Dutch Collegiants There is ample reason to engage in research around the Collegiants, a minority religious movement in the Netherlands of the 17th century. An exploration of this topic can be interesting not only for a contribution to the history of Religion but also to understand the development of some central concept in the early modernity. Prominent, in this research, is the question that initially stirred my personal interest in the Collegiantism; i.e. to define and understand the religious and cultural background that represents the practical field of confrontation of Baruch Spinoza\''s philosophy. This historiographical question had the purpose of highlighting the relationship between Spinoza and the religious movements of his time in order to fully understand the public to whom he addressed his texts. Collegiants, however, constitute an interesting field of research not only for the study of Spinoza, but widely to understand the cultural and social dynamic of the Dutch Golden Age, a backdrop against which emerged a new idea of religion. This dissertation is not exploring a curiosity or an inconsistent exception in the history of the 17th century, but rather the centrality of a group that was influenced by and largely influenced its Dutch social, political and religious context. One of the major problems in capturing the significance of the Collegiants arises from the difficulty in defining this movement, which chose never to formulate a confession of faith and consciously refused to be classified within a specific Church, sect, or congregation. The name, Collegiants, was not the consequence of an active choice but a label that arose, together with that of Rijnsburgers, in the polemic pamphlets of the epoch. The difficulties to define such elusive religious group make, however, the Collegiants a fascinating field of research. In this dissertation the Collegaints are termed a "movement" in order to emphasize their explicit lacks of norms or model and to highlight the continual change and redefinition of their religious identity. This process can be properly defined using Deleuze\''s concept of becoming minorities: Les minorités et les majorités ne se distinguent pas par le nombre. Une minorité peut être plus nombreuse qu\''une majorité. Ce qui définit la majorité, c\''est un modèle auquel il faut être conforme [.] Tandis qu\''une minorité n\''a pas de modèle, c\''est un devenir, un processus [.] Quand une minorité se crée des modèles, c\''est parce qu\''elle veut devenir majoritaire, et c\''est sans doute inévitable pour sa survie ou son salut. This definition can help us to see both the positive and the productive side of the Collegiant movement, even thought it defined itself negatively in order to protest against the institutional Church and normative religion. The Collegiants were involved in this process of "devenir minoritaire" in a highly conscious way. They decided willfully to avoid strict affiliation to Churches or congregations and criticized explicitly the necessity of an identitarian definition. It can hardly be denied, indeed, that the religious reflection of the Collegiants was characterized by the conscientious refusal to construct a model or a norm to which they could refer. In this dissertation the term "minority" will therefore be used, always in reference to this concept, without drawing too much stress to the effective number of the Collegiants\'' members. This question appear, indeed, misleading because it does not take into account the position that Collegiants\'' member occupied in the economic, political and intellectual life of the United Provinces. It is the case of a group which, indeed, demonstrated in several occasions its deep influence in the Dutch religious life. Collegiants\'' continuous efforts towards de-institutionalization and their aspiration to an egalitarian and democratic religious life have to be conceived as an invitation to their coeval confessions, to undertake the way of evolving minorities renouncing whichever exclusivity and authority. The articulation of the Collegiants\'' proposal can be appreciated by studying the different lines of thought that emerged clearly from their texts. Most of Collegiants\'' publications were polemical or written to answer specific accusations. Within the enormous number of sources that can be included in Collegiants\'' works emerge a limited number of arguments. The question of religious organization, tolerance, freedom of speech and the epistemological approach in reading the Scriptures; these arguments can be taken as guidelines to understanding and defining the nature of the movement. These sources present arguments and concepts that we can take to be the Collegiants\'' stance on religious life and belief. Some arguments, however, emerged with particularly force because of the sanction of the Church orthodoxy. Tolerance, free-prophecy and egalitarian and anti-authoritarian tendencies were sensitive points to which the Church or Congregations reacted with particularly vehemence, sensing a threat to their institutional power. The Chapter 5 of this dissertation are dedicated to the enumeration of these arguments. Each chapter presents a specific theoretical core and question. However the chapters are not self-conclusive because the various problematics encountered in the study of Collegiants overlap each other in continuous cross-reference and this gives rise to a kaleidoscopic effect. The concepts debated in this dissertation can be fully understood only in relation to each other, as they emerge to construct a semantic constellation useful to their contextualization. Each chapter, furthermore, comes to focus on one or more texts that are considered exemplary or representative of a particular tendency in the Collegiants´history. This methodology wants to underline how the constant redefinition of the Collegiants\'' identity is always a matter of personal as well as collective choice, of internal debate and external polemic. An emphasis on the intentionality of Collegiants\'' behaviour is particularly important in understanding which specific choice they made to contrast the authoritarian and exclusive vision of the religious life. These choices are well reflected in the use of a specific vocabulary and in the emergence of specific concepts that can be considered as key guideline to identifying some stable points in the shifting nature of the Collegiants. The first chapter of this dissertation delineates an initial general history of the movement together with the ground on which the Collegiants built their vision of belief: the question about Church organization. The chapter refers directly to the practical organization of the Collegiant movement, an egalitarian and anti-charismatic religious life which involved considerations of power and identity. This specific position, with its high level of nonexclusivity and anticharismatic consciousness, makes Collegiants movement an exception in the pluralist world of 17th century Holland and marked their difference to the constellation of Dutch reformation. Although some Collegiants\'' demeanor mirrored the progressive individualization of cults and beliefs, they accorded central importance to the community, the context in which their religious ideal of confrontation and discussion was realized. The first attempt to write an exhaustive history of the rise and development of the Rijnsburgers was made by a Remonstrant preacher, Paschier de Fijne. He was the first opponent of the Collegiants; his book, Kort, waerachtigh, en getrouw Varhael van het eerste Begin en Opkomen van de Nieuwe Sekte der Propheten ofte Rynsburgers in het dorp Warmont anno 1619 en 1620 (Brief, truthful, and faithful history of the beginning and origin of the new sect of the Prophet of Rijnsburg in the village of Warmont), published anonymously in 1671 by his son, expresses his critical position vis à vis the Rijnsburgers. Besides representing the first opposition to the Collegiants, this work constitutes an important source because the author attended the first Collegiant\'' assembly (the Rijnsburgers\'' vergadering). In particular it describes the way in which this first meeting took place. For the first complete history of the Collegiant movement, however, we have to wait until 1775 when the Histoire der Rijnburgsche Vergadering (History of Rijnsburg\''s assembly), written by the Collegiant Elias van Nijmegen, appeared in Rotterdam. Both these sources are key instruments for reconstructing and understanding how Collegiants organized their assemblies, and how they achieved an acharismatic meeting, through debate and free-exegesis. These testimonies, which embrace a whole century, have, however, the demerit of representing the Collegiant\'' vergadering (assembly) as an eccentric but defined ritual. What emerges, on the other hand, from Collegiants internal debate is that the conduct of the meeting supper, the organization of religious life, the definition of free-exegesis and the limitation of free speech were all subject to constant argument and discussion inside the movement. These concerns emerge in a fragmentary way in the manifold sources that discuss the nature of free-prophecy, tolerance and ecclesiology. In the polemic with Bredenburg, the Bredenburgse twisten, the debate about tolerance involved the discussion of women's role in the vergadering and the reflections on free-prophecy indirectly interrogate the charismatic nature of the organization. Another important characteristic of the Collegiant\'' movement, delineate in the first chapter, is the autonomous and independent development of the single collegia. City autonomy and the different religious and social contexts in which the Rijnsburger vergadering took root led to large-scale differentiation. The capacity of Collegiants to survive for more than a century with their refusal of normativity and authoritarian organization was substantially due to the penetration of the Collegiants\'' arguments into the different confessions. This deep influence, in particular in the Mennonite and Remonstrant communities, defined the nature of the Collegiants, especially in some cities, as a stream inside institutionalized Churches. Because the collegia were open to all Christians, without limitation, even including Socinians and Catholics, most of the participants were also members of structured Churches, congregations or sects. In Amsterdam this phenomenon was particularly evident and the penetration of Collegiants\'' argument in the Flemish community through Galenus Abrahamsz led to one of the most important schisms in the Mennonite history in the United Provinces. In other cities such as Leiden or Haarlem, the existence of cultural circles and other forms of nonreligious association constituted the basis for the spread of Collegiantism. It was only in Rijnsburg, the village in which the movement first emerged, that a common house was built, after 1640, to host the twice yearly Collegiant national vergadering. The practical organization of the Collegiants, as has been stated, represents the foundation on which noncharismatic ecclesiology and anticonfessional ideals were constructed. With the historical background of the first chapter it is then possible to discuss the main religious and political tendencies inside the movement. The second chapter of this dissertation, following the issue of religious organization discussed in the first chapter, deals with the principles of free-prophecy, Biblical exegesis, and Collegiants ecclesiology. The central concept examined in this chapter is nonconformity analysed in its historical development of England and the Netherlands. This chapter suggests that nonconformity as religious phenomenon was an elaboration and transformation of the anti-confessional and anti-clerical thought that emerged in the 16th century with the radical Reformation. The inception of nonconformity in the Netherlands is indicated by the transformation of the debate about Nicodemism, following Coornhert\''s defense of religious dissimulation and indifferentism. Nicodemism was indeed considered, in the early 16th century, as necessary behavior to avoid pointless martyrdom and persecution, utilized especially by the crypto-reformed in Catholic countries such as Italy and Spain. The diffusion of this conduct among Catholics in reformed countries but, principally, the diffusion and justification of Nicodemism in the United Provinces, where inquisitorial control and confessional repression presented a relative risk after the revolt against Spain, testify of the new meaning that this behaviour took on in the late 16th century. Nicodemism, as Coornhert\''s position shows, became the justification of anticonfessionalism as conscious behaviour, with the possibility of openly criticizing rituals and ceremonies as for achieving salvation. In this chapter particular attention is paid to the consciousness and the open dimension of this behavior. The neglect of dissimulation and the necessity of making public personal religious sentiments, is one of the basic elements in the change between Nicodemism and nonconformity. The nonconformists acquired the anticonfessional and anticlerical content of Nicodemism, but added a principal characteristic: the veridiction. The veridiction represents the necessity of telling the truth about personal belief and religious conscience, but also institutes the core of reality in the conformity between internal belief and external behavior. These elements were present in both English and Dutch nonconformity, which developed, however, into different and sometimes opposite ecclesiology. In the English case, external nonconformity to the dominant Church and the necessity of openly showing belief led to a demand for exclusivity and a process of individualization rooted in the juridical meaning of nonconformity. Despite the turning of the debate around the necessity of free-conscience, the understanding of nonconformity as a refusal of secular world and the attempt of Baxter to disconnect the debate around nonconformity to a juridical question, the English debate never developed into a criticism of the Church\''s organization or in the necessity of a democratization of the religious life, which was, on the contrary, dominant among the Collegiants. The central text in the history of Collegiantism and in the Dutch definition of nonconformity is Galenus Abrahamsz and David Spruyt\''s XIX Artikelen. This text was conceived, from the very beginning, as a collective discussion about the nature and the sense of a religious community in the absence of Holy Gifts. Collegiants give to the term nonconformity a specific meaning which designates the absence of conformity to the first apostolic Church and the end of the extraordinaries gifts of the Holy Spirit. This radical statement caused a reaction among the orthodox members of the Mennonites and Quakers, which see in the absence of Holy inspiration a complete secularization of the religious community. Nonconformity assumed therefore for the Collegiants a double meaning: on one side it was an elaboration of anticonfessional criticism through the statement of the absence of holy influence on the religious life, on another side it represented a deep criticism of priestly authority conceived as a secularized power acting as constraint of consciences. The absence of Holy Gifts was, for the Collegiants, the demonstration that no Church or Congregation could pretend to be the true or original one. The reaction of Dutch orthodoxy appears, indeed, completely justified, because Collegiants\'' religious nonconformity presents itself not only as conscious antiauthoritarian criticism but also as a statement of the full secularization of the Church. Nonconformity was, for Abrahamsz and Spruyt, not only an unavoidable state, but also a necessary behavior to unmask the inauthentic religious life. This position represented the core of Collegiants\'' practice, the reason for their continuous redefinition and, on the same level, for their refusal of any type of identification. The recognition of the secularized status of common religious life arose among the Collegiants accompanied by an ample debate about free-prophecy and Bible exegesis, stressing the possibility of an individual form of salvation. A central role, in this direction, was played by reflection on the veridiction as a form of conformity between the inward conscience and the external behavior. Although there emerged from the sources a controversial statement about how to approach and read the Scriptures, through the free-prophecy the Collegiants organized a form of collective exegesis that had its principal aim to avoid charismatic and authoritarian leadership but also to realize a form of community close to the first apostolic Church. The communitarian discussion also involved a debate on salvation, which had no more to be tied to the simple membership in a confession but developed as an articulated discussion on the significance of the ethical and religious life. A good Christian had to reinterpret and bring alive the first teaching of the Gospel, which can be summarized as love for others and in the propagation of tolerance as ethical and interpersonal behavior. Collegiants\'' reflections on religious life, organization of communities, and their continuous effort to maintain equal relations in the absence of charismatic gifts in the Church institution, never turn to consideration of society or political forms. This absence was even more significant in a cultural and social context in which theological questions involved directly or indirectly political questions. In the same period, furthermore, Hobbes\'' reflections on jusnaturalism challenge for the first time the divine legitimacy of political power, establishing the basis of a new vision of the political community. Collegiants understood religious community as deprived from any form of divine inspiration and conceived it as a human association, nevertheless they never outline a political parallelism to this situation. The most evident reason of this absence is probably the lack of a strong monarchy in the 17th century United Provinces. However the relationship between secular and religious ideology did not fail and was well summarized by the situation after the Synod of Dordrecht, which created a rupture in Dutch society with the consequent convergence of the religious position with the political one. The intervention of Grotius in favor of the Arminian party testified to a clear identification between theological opposition to predestination (which meant a challenge to Calvinist orthodoxy) and antimonarchical opinion. This fracture remained invisible in Collegiants sources that debated the secularization of Churches and consider religious congregations as human institutions, but never tried to define the legitimacy of political institutions. It is possible, however, to find in the history of the Collegiants one significant exception: Cornelius Plockhoy\''s attempt to promote a religious-social project in the Dutch colonies of Delaware . Plockhoy\''s work illuminates the relationship and the fruitful parallels that it is possible to make between the United Provinces and England, especially during the time of the Cromwellian Commonwealth. Plockhoy\''s most significant works were written, indeed, in England, some years before the fail of Cromwell, and testify to a particular social and political engagement in the construction and definition of a community with a religious basis. It is interesting to note that only after the English experience did Plockhoy returned to Holland, following the end of the Commonwealth, to propose a similar project to the city of Amsterdam. This chapter suggests an analysis of his English and Dutch sources, stressing the differences and the modifications to his proposal. The importance of this author lies in the possibility of deducing from his position a possible Collegiant\'' thinking on politics and social organization. This contribution is certainly not descriptive of Collegiantism as a whole but represents the only explicit trace of the modification of Rijnsburger\''s religious reflections on the secular field. The description of Plockhoy\''s community in many respects echoes a certain irenicism sourced form the reading of Rosicrucian text; however it reflets and refers principally to his Collegiant experience . Although Plockhoy\''s account of the community project is never exclusively religious, the confessional element appears as prominently in both his Dutch and English projects. His religious and political project emerge clearly from his letters to Cromwell: it is essentially devoted to resolving the problem of religious conflict and the disturbance of social peace. It is, indeed, clear that Plockhoy\''s aim was not that of describing an ideal society or forming a separate community in order to conserve a purist religious ideal, but to propose a paradigmatic alternative to the religious turmoil and the social injustices of his time. The relation between political and religious arguments in Plockhoy\''s solution to religious turmoil highlights the interconnection between religious tolerance and colonial criticism, social injustice and authoritarianism. Plockhoy\''s meticulous pedagogic description of his project, his underlining of the necessity of economic independence for women and the possibility of them participating in collective work are expressions of an outlook that includes an aware judgment of his contemporary society. The last part of this chapter is dedicated to criticizes two approaches dominant in the literature about Plockhoy: one is the description of his project as a classical form of Utopia the other one is the reading of the Delaware religious community interpreted as a triumph of the work ethic. The third chapter of this dissertation deals with the tolerance, a fundamental and central concept to understand the nature of the Collegiants. It is our intention to show how during the 17th century there emerged in the Netherlands, in the religious context, a new concept of tolerance inspired by Castellio\''s works. The publication and translation, in the first half of the 17th century, of some of Castellio\''s work testify to the major interest that the French author had in the United Provinces, especially for the oppositors to the intolerant and orthodox Calvinist tradition. For the Collegiants, Castellio represented a predecessor in the struggle for religious peace. His work against the persecution of the heretics, supported by Biblical argumentation, represented a constant source of inspiration for the partisan of religious toleration. As suggested by Voogt , Castellio\''s deconstruction of the concept of heresy, as it was used by the Calvinist orthodoxy, in order to redefined it to signify a person who acts and believes differently from the mainstream, represented Collegiants\'' basis to rethink the concepts of rationality and truth. The peculiarity of the Dutch concept of vedraagzaamheid (tolerance), in opposition to how tolerance was defined and discussed in the European mainstream debate, was certainly due to the elements of reciprocity and mutuality that this particular form of tolerance included. In the 17th century, tolerance (especially religious tolerance) was used to label negative behavior, to identify indifferentism or libertinism, intolerance was, on the contrary, a sign of unity, integrity, and orthodoxy. Furthermore, arguments for religious intolerance were justified by the biblical example of the Mosaic theocracy, while religious tolerance represented the interests of the emerging mercantile elite, which supported the Republican experiment and advocated cities\'' autonomy. Tolerance became, in the 17th century, a concept contested because of its pejorative meaning; the progressive introduction of the pro-tolerance position, in order to contrast with this negative predominant vision, supported the idea that tolerance was not a menace to the integrity and peace of the Dutch Republic but the principal reason for its prosperity. The concept of tolerance became, afterwards, the battle-field on which the best juridical, economical and political form of the United Provinces was decided. The penetration of this debate about tolerance and intolerance in the Collegiants movement was adapted into an anticonfessional and irenic orientation focusing on religious and social peace. The defense of an unlimited and mutual tolerance represented, for the Collegiants, a proposal of pacification in the pluralistic dimension of the Dutch religious life, which was perceived, by their coeval, as a source of division and instability. The practice of nonexclusive tolerance and the extensive reception of different confessions inside the movement was a pragmatic attempt to find a solution to the problematic turbulence inside the Doopsgezinden and more generally to the religious disputations in the United Provinces. The central figure investigating the conduct and the limits of this debate inside the Collegiants was Jan Bredenburg. This chapter will, indeed, analyze the trouble arising from Bredenburg\''s position on tolerance and his extensive use of Spinozist concepts and language. This debate about the extension and the limits of tolerance involved, indirectly and directly, a discussion regarding religious organization, freedom of speech, and charismatic authority. In his works, Bredenburg, with his continuous redefinition of the discussion about tolerance, shows all the ambiguity and ambivalence of this term. Unlimited and mutual tolerance finds its limits in the continuous exigence of a normative delimitation of it, in the distinction of necessary and unnecessary dogma, but also, in a trivial way, in the impossibility of tolerating the intolerant. In the case of the Collegiants the adversaries of the unlimited and mutual tolerance undermined Collegiants\'' nonexclusivism with their proposals to identify with a confession of faith. Pressures in the direction of identification and exclusivism were, however, only a part of the tolerance problem. With the "Bredenburgse Twisten" (Bredenburg controversy) the limits and the ambiguities of the concept of tolerance and the limits of the penetration of Spinoza\''s philosophy in Collegiant\'' movement become clear. These limits concerned especially the necessity and priority of contrasting skeptical and atheist tendencies in the field of belief. The final chapter of this dissertation is dedicated to a question that underlines the problems of anticonfessionalism, tolerance, and secularization. The question asked in this conclusive part regards the possibility to trace the emergence of rational argument in Collegiants understanding of the divinity. To answer this question it was necessary to make some preliminary remarks about the diffusion and vernacularization of Descartes\'' and Spinoza\''s philosophies in the 17th century Netherlands. Short descriptions of the two most influential systems of thought of the epoch are two methodological steps useful in understanding not only the degree of penetration of these philosophies into Collegiants but also the nature and meaning of the concept of rationality at that time. The definition of the relationship with the divinity, after the XIX Arikelen\''s statement of the unholy Church, is represented, in the history of the Collegiant movement, by a precise moment: the discussion and dispute between the Rijnsburgers and the Quaker missionaries in the United Provinces. The debate with the Quakers assumes a specific meaning not only because it shows the proximity and similarity between the two religious movements but also because it testifies to the emergence of a central concept: the light. Central text to determine the nature of this relationship and to define the meaning that for the Collegiants had the concept of light, is Balling´s Het licht op den Kandelaar (The Light on the Candlestick). Balling\''s answer to Quakers represents a penetration of Spinozist language into the definition of religion as knowledge of God but also a singular affinity and fascination for the Quakers\'' concept of light. The question of contact with the divinity appears in the text as an individual experience, not mediated by any human instrument via language or the empirical experience. The approach to God is certainly described as an epistemological progression but the perfect comprehension of God is defined with the vocabulary of the affections rather than as full rational understanding. This text is certainly highly controversial and the continuous shift between philosophical and Quakers\'' language make its interpretation problematic. Het licht op den Kandelaar reflects Collegiants\'' position as a sum of philosophical argumentation, mysticism, and the irreconcilable reference to God as an infinite and unknowable creature. What emerges with force in the analysis of this source is the impossibility of understanding Balling\''s description of the relationship with God as purely rational. Balling, however, stresses the possibility of the constant perfectionism of human knowledge and self-emancipation and, furthermore, proposes new terms for religious thought. What he calls the "true religion" is described as ethical behavior constructed with the combination of tolerance, equal participation in the religious life, and the refusal to countenance formal conformism to Church institutions. Collegiants\'' acceptance of a Church without God does not necessary involve a pure absence of divine work, on the contrary, the proximity to God is progressively researched in an interior sphere which involve a process of knowledge. The legitimacy of the "Truth" is, then, given no more by the transcendental gift of the divinity but in the accordance of personal conviction and ethical behavior, the religion is, indeed, redefined according to these terms. True religion is, for Balling, a continuous inquiry into the natural and internal principle that each individual possesses in order to achieve full comprehension of God\''s word. This statement testify not only of a new conception of the Religion but also reaffirm the minoritaire core of Collegiants´nature; religion, in their understanding, is not more matter of concord, unity, orthodoxy but source of knowledge, problematization and continuous questioning about its own identity. Nonconformity and cultural dynamics: some preliminary remarks Before starting the presentation of the Collegiants\'' argument about tolerance, Church organization, and rationalism, to fully understand some choices and the approach of this dissertation, and to comprehend how Collegiants sources have been read, some methodological remarks are necessaries about the emergence and development of the historical phenomenon called nonconformity and how was it received and transformed in 17th century Holland. Nonconformity is, as will be shown, one of the central concepts developed by the Collegiants to justify their antiauthoritarianism and anticonfessionalism. The concept appears more interesting if we look at the number of meanings and social phenomena that it includes. It first developed in England in the juridical context and was named in the later 17th century as a defined religious movement that opposed the Act of Uniformity. In the English sources it is possible to retrace the history of this concept, demonstrating how the significance and arguments regarding nonconformity changed in one hundred years. Not far from England, in the United Provinces, the evolution of the concept of nonconformity follows another route, giving rise to radically different signification. Proposing a comparative study, between England and the United Provinces, of the development and semantic elaboration of the concept of nonconformity, is useful not only to understand the different expression of religious dissidence but also to detect cultural and social change in the approach to religion. Beyond the obvious differences between the two Countries, the different political, social and cultural history it is still possible and fruitful to compare how the concept of nonconformity developed in England and Netherlands because of the numerous contact between the Collegiants and the English religious dissident groups and because of the particular redefinition that the concept of nonconformity assumed in the United Provinces. The differentiation of English nonconformity (which dominates the European semantic field with direct and specific connotations of particular events with particular actors) from Dutch nonconformity, explains how historical agents using or interpreting a concept in a particular way can change its semantic connotation. The category of nonconformity, because of its shift from a juridical field to a social-religious one, indicates a semantic enrichment and a conceptual dynamic that can prove a sensible point to investigate structural changes. These case studies possess the necessary characteristics to be approached with the methodology developed by Koselleck and the Cambridge History of Ideas, because "society and language insofar belong among the meta-historical givens without which no narrative and no history are thinkable. For this reason, social historical and conceptual historical theories, hypotheses and methods are related to all merely possible regions of the science of history" . It is our intention to pay particular attention to the analysis of the sources and to their contextualization with the aim of constructing a map of nonconformity\''s semantic change via its arguments in pamphlets and polemical texts of the 17th century. It is our intention to investigate, through the study of the emergence of this concept, the tendencies of secularization, the development of arguments regarding religious indifferentism, and the renounciation of a religious life normalized by concrete institutions, rituals, and ceremonies. A semantic study of how the concept of nonconformity emerges, how it is filled with new meaning, and which new and old concepts intervene to define the religious and political field, is essential to explain and understand the Collegiants\'' mentality in 17th century Holland, to determine how they think, and in which ways they influence the cultural and social dynamic in a specific context. The production of new meaning and the continuous nomination of a cognitive world influence, in their turn, the production and development of new instruments of thinking. To understand the shift, the dynamics, and the changes in the cultural field, a rhetorical and semantic analysis is necessary. The arena of investigation is, however, limited to the religious sphere and the sources analyzed are, in a large majority, polemical pamphlets, which means that the question about the correlation between the emergence of a new concept and change in the mentality refers principally to the change in the perception of religion as a dogmatic and doctrinaire system. The concept of nonconformity is surrounded by many other concepts, which partly explain its nature and constitute its semantic field. In this dissertation we focus on different concepts (tolerance, anticonfessionalism, Utopia, mysticism, and millenarianism) because nonconformity emerges, from the analysis of different pamphlets and sources, as correlated with them. Dutch nonconformity involves, for example, a necessary reflection on Church form, the organization of religious life, exclusivism vs. non-exclusivism and a certain vision of the future that actualizes itself as Utopia or millenarian impulse. This constellation of concepts, which characterizes itself for semantic differentiation but also for their strict interrelation, is also useful in explaining the nature of a radical and dissident movement like the Collegiants and in understanding how the religion, understood as belief experience, was fulfilled by new themes, concepts, and meanings. Furthermore, to investigate this conceptual connection and contextualize the emergence and use of determined religious vocabulary, it is useful to understand the nature and presence, in the Dutch religious field, of the phenomenon of secularization especially in its particularly form which goes under the name of "rationalization of the world". The central question asked in this dissertation is, finally, not how it is possible to construct a category of nonconformity as an analytical concept that helps in understanding religious phenomena, but what is nonconformity and which kind of religious phenomenon it describes, how it has been used and with which consequences. The question regards how it is possible to detect structural change in the mentality while investigating conceptual change or emergence of a new concept. The cultural dynamic is, in this dissertation, understood as a semantic and cognitive phenomenon of mutual influence between emergence or nomination of new concepts and events historically determined. The History of Concepts approach privileges, as has been shown, the semantic field and text analysis for detecting changes in the mentality and in the social-cultural sphere. One more reason to find in this approach a fruitful method for understanding the Collegiants\'' universe is the particular interest that they reserved for the language. The Collegiants stressed the importance of the spread of vernacular Dutch with the compilation of grammars, dictionaries, and lexica . In 1654 the Collegiant Luidewijk Meijer published the Nederlandsche Woorden-Schat, with a new edition in 1658. The Woorden-Schat was a Latin-Dutch and French-Dutch dictionary and a guide to principal terms in Nederduitsche (Low Dutch), with particular attention paid to the basterdtwoorden (Bastard Words) and the konstwoorden beghrijpt (cultural and artistic concepts). Some Collegiants in Rotterdam, as well as in Amsterdam, were active participants in a cultural project that worked on the definition and elaboration of the Dutch language in poesy, theater, and literature. Rafael Camphuysen and Johachim Oudaan were appreciated poets and, in 1669, Luidewijk Meijer and Johannes Bouwmeester founded a cultural academy with the name Nil Volentibus Arduum (Nothing is arduous for the willing). Around the same time Adriaan Koerbagh published Een Bloemhof (A flower garden), a theological dictionary edited according to controversial philological criteria, with the explicit aim of explaining the origin of superstition and unmasking the authority of theologians\'' obscure and adulterated language . In 1706 William Sewel, a Flemish converted to Quakerism, wrote the Compendius Guide to the Low-Dutch Language, a Dutch grammar for English speakers. These sources and the presence in Collegiants\'' texts of a continuous debate about the language, testify to great awareness in their choice of terms and words. Collegiants often use italics to emphasize special concepts, or to introduce a neologism or Latin calque. In addition, they refer several times to their efforts to introduce a correct and transparent use of the language. The Collegiants were surprisingly familiar with the crystallizing power in a certain employment of discourse and language; they explicitly challenged the predominance of scholastic and theologian's terms, which substitute the direct and immediate experience of the religion with an intricate and abstract speculation on transcendence and divinity. Dutch grammar and dictionaries, work with the vernacular language in poetic or literary texts, and philological research on the origin of words, testify to a Collegiant Dutch language undertaking, an engagé project anything but neutral to democratize the discussion about religious matters and to guarantee egalitarian participation by both cultivated and uncultivated people. This effort is well represented by an emblematic figure in the Collegiants\'' sources; the founder of this religious movement, Van de Kodde, is several times described as a cultivated peasant able to speak French, Latin, Greek, in the same way the Philosopherenden Boer (Philosophizing peasant), described by Stol in 1676, extols the superiority of a simple peasant\'' reasonable pragmatism in comparison to the Cartesian\''s method and the Quaker\''s rhetoric. This was the essence of the Collegiants\'' anticonfessionalism and antiauthoritarianism, a campain with both Utopian and rational implications, aiming at a possible rethinking of religious experience outside normative structures.

Issue 29.5 of the Review for Religious, 1970. ; EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITOR Everett A. Diederich, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITOR John L. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gailen, S.J. Correspondence with the editor, the associate editors, and the assistant editor, as well as books for review, should be sent to R~vxEw FOR l~mcxous; 6t2 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63to3. Questions for amwering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's Church; 32i Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania tgx06. + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ecclesiastical approval by faculty members of the School of Divinity of Saint Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Owned by the Missouri Province Edu-cational Institute. Published bimonthly and copyright ~) 1970 by REVIEW FOR R~LlCIOU. at 428 East Preston Street; Baltimore, MaC/- land 21202. Printed in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at Baltimore, Maryland and at addiuonal mailing offices. Single copies: $1.00. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $5.00 a year, $9.00 for two yeats; other countries: $5.50 a year, $10.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be ¯ accompanied by check or money order paya-ble tO RZVXEW FOR RELIGIOUS in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Renewals and new subscriptions, where ex¢ora. partied by a remittance, should be sent to R£vI~w FOR RELIGIOUS; P. O. ~OX 671; Baltimore, Maryland 21203. Changes of address, busine~ correspondence, and orders not a¢¢ompanid by a remittance should be sent to REvll~W l~Ol~ RELIGIOUS ; 428 East Preston Street; Baltimort, Maryland 21202. Manuscripts, editorial cor-respondence, and books for review should be sent to REVIEW ~OR RF.LIOIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building ; 539 North Grand Boulevard: Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to the address of the Questions and Answers editor. SEPTEMBER 1970 VOLUME 29 NUMBER 5 ,!111; JOHN W. O'MALLEY, S.J. History, the Reformation, and Religious Renewal: Pluralistic Present and New Past Even the most cautious historian would probably be willing to subscribe to the sweeping generalization that Roman Catholicism has changed more radically in the past four years than it had in the previous four hundred. A sense of uprooting and upheaval is inevitable under such circumstances, and we should not be surprised that the resulting tension has been felt most acutely in religious communities. These communities presumably" are the places of keenest religious sensibilities and, at least until recently, the places where the traditions of the past were professedly cultivated. But the changes have often shattered these traditions and have inter-rupted the sense of continuity with the 'past. The conse-quent confusion has forced religious to turn, sometimes somewhat desperately, to any quarter which promises rescue. Somewhat paradoxically, religious even turn to history, in the hope that the long narrative of the Church's pilgrimage will throw light on the present crisis. Often the specific focus of their interest is that other era of history well known .for its religious tension and tt~rmoil, the age of the Reformation. This focus is at least in part due also to the !fact that the theology and spirituality of the Reformation era had been protracted in the Church to the very eve of Vatican II. In studying the sixteenth century many religious were to some extent ~tudying themselves. The present author, as a practicing historian of the Reformation, has frequently been asked by religious in 4- ¯ Fr. John W. O'Malley, S.J., is as-sociate professor in the department of history; University of Detroit; Detroit, Michigan 48221; . VOLUME 29, ~.970 ÷ ÷ ÷ 1. W. O'Malley, $.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 636 the past several years to answer the following question: Is not the present upheaval in the Church very similar to .the upheaval of the Reformation era? The following pages will attempt to answer that question and to use it as a focus to explore the unprecedented nature of the aggiornamento we are experiencing today. It is to be hoped that such an exploration will be helpful to reli-gious in trying to understand their present situation in history and in describing to them the drastic creativity which is required of them in the renewal of their own communities. "Is not the present upheaval in the Church very simi-lar ~o the upheaval of the Reformation era?" The ques-tion begs for an affarmative answer, and such an answer is indeed suggested by many obvious similarities between the sixteenth century and the twentieth century. Both centuries,, for example, experienced a challenge to papal authority; both centuries tried to revise the forms of religious life, saw large numbers of men and women leaving religious life, and so forth. However, in spite of the many similarities and in spite of the measure of consolation which an affirmative answer might bestow, the fundamental reply to the question has to be a re-sounding negative. The present upheaval is radically different from the upheaval of the sixteenth century. It is important for us to see just how it is radically different, for only then can we cope with the practical repercus-sions which such a difference has on our own lives. In order to explore this topic we must first expose two assumptions which are the basis of the discussion which is to follow. These assumptions are simple and familiar to us all, but they bear repetition because they are so fundamental. First of all, behind every action there is an idea. Ideas are power. They are dynamic in character and even the most abstract of them tends eventually to issue in action and to influence conduct. Therefore, to study an idea is to study the energetics of social change. Secondly, behind every idea there is a culture, a fabric of thought and feeling of which any given idea is a partial expression and reflection. The idea may even have been created by the culture in question, for ideas are not eternal. They are born at some particular time and in some particular place. Or if the idea was merely inherited fxom an older culture, it is modified and changed by the new culture as the new culture accepts it as its own. In the study of the history of ideas, sensitivity to the total cultural context is an absolute prerequisite for discerning an idea's birth, de-velopment, and even total transformation, in the course of its history. The idea towards which we shall direct our attention is the idea of Christian reform :or renewal. As an idea it has its own history, which is a reflection and expression of the various cultures where it was and is a vital force. This history until recently was not much investigated by historians, but it is now receiving more adequate atten-tion. We shall try to trace this history very briefly, with special emphasis on the Reformation era, in the con-viction that such an endeavor will be enlightening and helpful for us in our present crisis. In particular, we shall contrast the cultural framework which undergirded the idea of reform in the age ,of the Reformation with that which undergirds aggiornamento today. Recent studies on the origin and early development of the idea of reform in Scripture and the fathers of the Church have shown that in those early'centuTies reform meant the transformation of the individual Christian into God's image and likeness. It had not as yet occurred to Christians in any very c6herent fashion that the Church as an institution--or rather that institutions in the Church--might be subject to reform and revision. The idea of institutional reform surfaced for the first time during the so-called Gregorian Reform or Investi-ture Controversy of the eleventh century. During this period the functions and allegiances of the episcopacy were at the center of the bitter contest between pope and emperor, and it was the papacy which wanted to change the status quo by returning to what it felt was an older and sounder tradition before bishops had become sub-servient instruments of royal and imperial policy. With the Gregorian Reform the idea was inserted into the Western ecclesiastical tradition that the Church it-self was subject to reform. The impact of this idea upon later history is incalculable. From the eleventh century forward the idea would never again be absent from the story of the Church; and at some times, as in the early sixteenth and the mid-twentieth centuries, it would come to dominate and profoundly disturb that story. By the early years of the sixteentll century we can honestly say that a reform hysteria had set in. Reform had become the common preoccupation, almost obsession, of the age. What is to be said about [ireform in the sixteenth century? Perhaps the first thihg which strikes our at-tention is the almost limitles~ variety of reform ideas and reform programs. We see stretched before us a chaotic panorama in which it is hard to find order, progression, or consistency. The figure of Luther, of course, dominates the scene, and he to some degree influenced, at least by way of reaction, all reforms in the century: But we are really hard pressed to find a very obvious intellectual affinity between him and a refbrmer like Michael Servetus, who denied the Trinity and ÷ ÷ VOLUME: 29,' 1970 6:~7 I. w. O,M,a~y, S.I. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 638 who taught that the corruption of Christ's doctrine, which began with the Apostles and which was furthered by the fathers and scholastics, was brought to inglorious constimmation by contemporary ~eformers like Luther. And what direct relationship was there between an Anabaptist quietist like Conrad Grebel and an Ana-baptist visionary like John of Leyden, who made polyg-amy obligatory at Mfinster and maintained himself there in voluptuous, polygamous opulence? Even within Catholicism a great gap separates Gasparo Contarini, the conciliatory Venetian nobleman and friend of St. Ignatius, from the fierce and rigid Gian Pietro Carafa, at .whose election to the papal throne even Ignatius blanched. The more we learn about the sixteenth cen-tury the more clearly we see how complex and variegated it was. Generalization seems impossible. And the at-tempt to compare it with the twentieth century seems even more impossible, for we are all keenly aware of the variety and even contradiction which characterizes contemporary ideas of reform and aggiornamento. We have set ourselves an impossible task. ¯ On the other hand, if what we said earlier about cul-tural patterns is true, all of these reform phenomena should be able to be studied as manifestations of a common culture. There should be somewhere, if we dig deeply enough, elements manifestative of a common intellectual and emotional experience. These elements, though distinguishable from one another, also com-penetrate one another, so that in speaking of one of them we to some extent are also speaking of the others, since all are facets of the same cultural reality. We are justified, therefore, in our undertaking, especially if we keep clearly in mind how precarious it is and how subject to exception is almost every generalization. In our comparison of the sixteenth with the twentieth century we shall concentrate on two elements or phe-nomena which are particularly significant for out topic and particularly revelatory of the character of the two cultures. The first of these phenomena we shall designate as the cultural parochialism of the sixteenth century and the cultural pluralism of the twentieth. The cul-ture of the sixteenth century was a parochial culture. The great controversies of that century were carried on within what we now see to be the narrow confines of the Western intellectual tradition. One reason why the sixteenth century was an exciting century in which to live was that it initiated through its voyages of dis-covery the new age of world consciodsness which we experience today. But only the faintest glimmers of. this world consciousness had penetrated to Europe by 1517. It is true. that in the Italian Renaissance, which to some extent was contemporaneous with the Reforma-tion, there was a greater awareness of cultural diversity. Moreover, there was an attempt to come to terms with it. Both Nicholas of Cusa and Marsilio Ficino speak of the splendor which comes to religion from the diversity of rite and ritual which God permits throughout the world. But such tolerance and breadth of vision was not characteristic of the European intellectual scene as a whole. Indeed, even where these virtues were. operative they eventually tended to be snuffed out by the harsh polemics of the religious controversies. The very dictum "Scripture alone," which we associate with the Protes-tant reformers, is symptomatic of what was happen-ing. No matter what is to be said of this dictum as an expression of theological principle, from the cultural point of view it suggests narrowness and constriction of vision. The Catholic formula, "Scripture and tradi-tion," is broader and suggests an urbane and mature consciousness of complexity, but it, too, implies more restriction than the ideas of Cusa and Ficino. The re-formers--- Protestant and Catholic--railed against what they felt were the paganizing tendencies' of the Renais-sance, and we often echo their judgments even today. But much of this so-called paganizing can be more be-nignly and more accurately .interpreted as a serious at-tempt to broaden the cultural base of Christianity. The cultural parochialism of which we have been speaking was made possible and even fostered by the slow and inadequate means of communication which the sixteenth century had at its disposal. More im-portant, these slow and inadequate means made it possible for sects to develop and for governments to impose a particular and rigid religious style on whole populations. In other words, it was still possible to ex-clude those factors which would tend to develop re-ligious and cultural pluralism or to operate for a more broadly based unity. German Lutheranism, Dutch Calvinism, Spanish Catholicism could continue to perdure as distinct and seemingly relentless cultural .phenomena only because they were protected from fac-ing the challenge of cultural and religious diversity. We today have no such protection, and we cannot construct barriers to keep out what we find offensive and disturbing. In the modern world pluralism is the very air we breathe, and it is one of the most signifi-cant factors influencing us and marking us off from all men who have ever preceded us on this globe. Modern means of communication have introduced the otherwise-minded into our very homes, and we have no instrument to muffle them. We must come to terms with diversity. ÷ :÷ VOLUME 29, 1970 639 4. I. w. o'Mo~, s.1. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 640 Our: Christianity, therefore, and our style of renewal must come to terms with it. Ecumenism, for instance, is not simply an accidental adoi:nment to our religious and intellectual style. It is not simply a good idea that we concocted and then tried to thrust down the throat of an unwilling Church. We perhaps cannot describe it as inevitable, but we cer-tainly can describe it as symptomatic of the culture in which we live and urgently required by it if we genuinely believe in truth and honesty. Our experience of pluralism has forced us all to admit the possibility of different, complementary, con-trasting, and at times almost contradictory insights into the same data. It has forced us to realize that each of these, insights may have some validity and that no set of categories can capture any reality in all its splendor and multiplicity. This realization, has not made us gkeptics, but it has made us cautious in our judgments and aware of how relative our insights might be. Our experience of pluralism has thrust upon us a new epistemology. In the sixtbenth century the assumption which under-lay religious discussion was that truth was one and that orthodoxy was clear--clear either from Scripture or from the teaching of the Church. Cultural parochialism fostered this assumption. It allowed beliefs to perdure untested by confrontation with different beliefs. The epistemology of the sixteenth century, parochial and rigid with the academic rigidity of the scholastic de-bates, made little allowance for the possibility of plural-ism of insight. It insisted upon the exclusive validity of a single insight, with a consequent insistence upon the exclusive validity of particular categories and concepts. Truth in such a system is not multifaceted and ever some-what beyond our grasp, but monolithic and subject to our despotic contro!. It is de jure intolerant. Its particular formulations are so many weapons for use in battle ¯ against other equally parochial formulations. Polemic, therefore, is its appropriate literary style. The theology of the sixteenth century is quite cor-rectly described as polemical and controversialist theol-ogy. We perhaps fail to realize how appropriate such a style of theology was to the cultural experience and epistemological presuppositions of that century. To an intolerant truth corresponds an intolerant literary form. No other form would be honest. The only possible explanation for a person's refusal to accept the true and orthodox insight must be moral perversity. Hence, orthodoxy and virtue, heterodoxy and vice were the two sets of inseparable twins. Significantly enough, the characteristic literary form of the Italian Renaissance was the dialogue, the form which implies an awareness of diversity and a willing-ness to live with it. It was an awareness too delicate to be able to contain the religous resentments which ex-ploded in 1517. But it is not too delicate today. Dialogue is the literary form required by our epistemology, which has been conditioned by our experience of cultural pluralism. Dialogue and rapprochement are not arbi-trary creations of the ecumenist. They are necessary corollaries to being intellectually honest in the latter half of the twentieth century. Our style of renewal, therefore, cannot be apodictic, autocratic, intolerant, or suffused with old-time single-minded zeal. Our culture--that is to say, WE, as prod-ucts and creators of that culture--require something else. Our style is radically different. It is groping and tentative. It is experimental and participati~ve. It is even somewhat double-minded, for it realizes that even re-ligious reform must keep an eye on secular realities precisely as potential for religious values. The second phenomenon manifestative of the cul-tural divergence of the sixteenth century from the twentieth century is perhaps more important: the sense of history operative in the two centuries. Here, es-pecially, we must beware of giving the impression that each individual in the sixteenth or twentieth century thinks about his past in precisely the same way. In the sixteenth century, in fact, historical thought ranged from the subtle understandings of persons like Fran-cesco Guicciardini and Desiderius Erasmus to the crudest forms of apocalyptic. However, we can say that, by and large, sixteenth-century thinkers discerned some consistent and coherent pattern in the historical process, and they saw this process as directly under the divine influence. They usually arrived at their formulations of such a pattern by a very arbitrary fusion of historical fact with metahistorical speculation which they drew from Antiquity and the Middle Ages. The result was often a hodge-podge of myth, metaphysics, and unsub-stantiated historical data. From this was constructed a pattern of expansion or decline or cycle or cataclysm or culmination which was presented to the reader as God's design. Thus the author was able to rise above history's mystery and to protect himself from history's terror. There was one very important consequence of this approach to history: it tended in some fashion to absolutize the past. The religious thinkers of the six-teenth century all tended to see past events, especially religious events, as issuing from God's hand and as under His direct influence. They were not particularly Renewa/ VOLUME 29, 1970 641 ~. W. O'Mall~, S.~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 642 concerned with the singular, contingent, concrete hu-man causes which produced particular phenomena. They were concerned rather to see them as products of di-vine providence, as r~eflections of the divinity, as neces-sary elements in a predetermined pattern. They thus tended to endow them with an absolute value which defied reconciliation with the contingent historical cir-cumstances under which they had come into being. The contrast of this style of historical thinking with our own is dramatic. We all have acquired to a greater or lesser degree some measure of historical conscious-ness ~s defined in terms of modern historical method and hermeneutics. What this means is that we approach the past as a human phenomenon which is to be under-stood in terms of human thought and feeling. Each person, event, doctrine, and document of the past is the product of contingent causes and subject to modification by the culture in which it exists. Everything in the human past is culturally conditioned, which is just another way of saying that it is culturally limited. Such awareness of cultural conditioning distinguishes modern historical consciousness from that which pre-ceded it, and it is an awareness which has been growing ever more acute since the nineteenth century. The text of Luke's Gospel could have been produced only by first-century Judaic-Hellenistic Christianity. Fifteenth-century humanism would have created a completely different text, different in concept as well as in language. Awareness of such cultural differentiation helps make Scripture scholars today much more keenly conscious of how Scripture is the word of man than they are of how it is the word of God. Until quite recently the very opposite was the case. What modern historical consciousness enables us to understand more clearly than it was eve~ understood before, therefore, is that every person, event, doctrine, and document of the past is the product of very specific and unrepeatable contingencies. By refusing to consider them as products of providence or as inevitable links in an ineluctable chain, it deprives them of all absolute character. It demythologizes them. It "de-providential-izes" them. It relativizes them. The importance of such relativization is clear when we consider the alternative. If a reality of the past is not culturally relative, it is culturally absolute. It is sacred and humanly unconditioned. There is no possibility of a critical review of it which would release the present from its authoritative grasp. For one reason or another an individual might.reject a particular institution or set of values as not representing the authentic tradition of the past. But. there is no way to reject the past as such. There is no way to get rid of history. The two styles of historical thinking which we have just been describing radically condition the idea of re-form. If we were to describe in a word the funda-mental assumption which underlay the idea of reform in the sixteenth century, it would be that reform was to be effected by a return to the more authentic religion of a bygone era. Somewhere in the past there was a Golden Age untarnished by the smutty hand of man, an age when doctrine was pure, morals were upright, and institutions were holy. It was this doctrine, these morals, and these institutions which reform was to restore or continue. According to this style of thinking Christ somehow or other became the sanctifier and sanctioner of some existing or pre-existing order, and that order was thus imbued with transcendent and inviolable validity. For centuries many Christians thought that such an order was the Roman Empire, and that is why the myth of the Empire's providential mission and its duration to the end of the world perdured many centuries after the Empire ceased to be an effective reality. According to this style of thinking all the presumptions favor obedi-ence and conformity. Protest and dissent can only rarely, if ever, be justified. There is no way to see Christ as contradicting the present and rejecting the past. Such a style of thinking is foreign to our own. Even though as Christians we attribute a transcendent mean-ing to the person of Jesus and therefore attribute a special primacy to those documents which resulted from the most immediate contact with him, we cannot see the first Christian generation as a Golden Age. Scoiologi-cally speaking, it was the charismatic generation. His-torically speaking, it was a generation like all others-- human, contingent, imperfect, relative. The formula-tions of Christian doctrine in the great early councils must be subjected to the same radical criticism. We do not easily find in them a harvest of eternal and immu-table truth. Intellectually, therefore, we repudiate the sixteenth-century's historical style. Emotionally, however, we find a certain satisfaction in it of which it is difficult to divest ourselves. What satisfies us in this style is its fufidamental premise that somewhere in the past there is an answer to our questions and a solution to our prob-lems. If we could only get back to the ':true mind" of somebody or other, how easy it then would be to im-plement our reform. How easy it then would be to save ourselves from the risk of having to answer our own VOL:UME" 29, 1970 643 ~. W. O'Mallt'y, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ¯ 6,t4 questions and solve our own problems. This is the emotional consolation which such a style of historical thinking provides. We neatly fit ourselves, for instance, into a preconceived pattern of homogeneous develop-ment, and then we dip into the Golden Past to discover how to behave as the pattern unfolds itself. We are secure. We have been saved from history's terror. No such salvation, however, is open to us of the twentieth century. Modern historical consciousness has relativized and demythologized the past, thus liberat-ing us from it. But we are liberated only to find our-selves on our own. The past has no answers for us, and we face the future without a ready-made master-plan. It is this fact which makes our style of renewal radically different from every reform which has ever preceded it. We are painfully conscious that if we are to have a master-plan we must create it ourselves. In spite of certain superficial similarities, therefore, the problems of the sixteenth-century Reformation are not those of twentieth-century aggiornamento. Underly-ing these two reforms are two radically different cul-. tural experiences, which have radically transformed the idea of reform. Our twentieth-century idea of reform has been conditioned by our experience of religious and intellectual pluralism, and this has transformed it from pronouncement to conversation. Our idea of reform has also been conditioned by our modern historical consciousness, and this has divested us of the consola-tion of a past which answers our questions and tells us what to do. The implications of the foregoing reflections for re-newal within religious communities should be obvious. First of all, our problems will not be solved from on high by some sort of autocratic decree. Before any reasonable decision is reached on any major question a certain amount of open discussion and communal dis-cernment is an absolute prerequisite. The exercise of "obedience" is thus so drastically changed that we can well wonder if the word, with all its connotations, is really an adequate expression of what we now mean. In any case, participation and tolerance of diversity of viewpoint are now such pervasive realities of the cul-ture in which we live that there will be no viable + solutions to any problems without taking them into ac- + ¯ count. ÷ Secondly, although we do want to get back to the "true mind" of our founders, we must realize that we are in a very different cultural context than the founders were. We have to be bold in interpreting their "mind," and we must realize that even they do not answer our questions in our terms. Keligious renewal today, for the first time in the history o[ the Church, is more con-scious o~ its break with the authentic past than it is of its continuity with it. This may not be a very consoling realization, but it is one which we must constantly be aware o~ as we try to face the ~uture. Indeed, we face a new future because to a large extent we have created ~or ourselves a new past. j. DOUGLAS McCONNELL Good Stewardship Is Management and Planning J. Douglas Mc- Connell is a mem-ber of the Stanford Research Imfitute; Menlo Park, Cali-fornia 94025. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Thank God for the courage and wisdom of the fathers of the Second Vatican Councill Their decree, Perfectae caritatis, charging all institutions and orders to under-take renewal, may have provided a means that will en-able the talents of both men and women religious to be developed more fully and utilized more effectively in serving the People of God. It may also be the means by which some (not all) orders will survive in the years ahead. There is no need here to discuss the declining numbers of[ novices, the increasing numbers not taking final vows or opting for exclaustration, the growing costs of retirement, and the trend in age distributions. These are symptoms, not causes, and their disappearance rests entirely on how the orders adapt themselves to this, the latter third of the twentieth century. Historically, the least practiced parable within the Catholic Church has to have been the parable of the talents, and this is particularly true insofar as orders of religious women have been concerned. They have truly been hand-maidens of the Church; they have occupied subservient roles and have been encouraged to remain in secondary roles--interpreting kindly the motives and action of others, shunning criticism, and avoiding evaluation of another's fitness for her work or position--yet they possess tremendous capabilities. For the better part of a decade Stanford Research In-stitute (SRI) has undertaken research projects in the area of corporate planning, and for many more years in the field of management. In that time, working with members of the Fortune 500 and numbers of relatively small businesses, SRI has developed a philosophy or a set of principles that underlies the physical tasks in the planning process and exercise of management functions. In the last three years we have been privileged to work with the following orders in assessing their present and future status: Sisters of the Holy Cross, Notre Dame, Indiana; the Sisters of Charity of Mount St. Joseph, Cincinati; and the Sisters of Charity of Mount St. Vincent, New York. The 'philosophy of corporate planning has proved to be as effective for religious orders as for corporations. We do not have "the answer," and we are the first to admit that our approach evolves a little with every study and improves; but we do have a system that is logical, comprehensive, participative, timely, and oriented toward results. The system SRI follows is outlined here because we believe it offers sound means of planning for. the future, of implementing change without chaos, and of exercising true collegiality and subsidiarity. A number of sisters have even called it "the key to survival." What Is Planning? All of us plan to some extent whenever we think ahead to select a course of action. But this is a weak way of defining planning. SRI prefers to define effective planning as a network of decisions that direct the intent, guide the preparation for change, and program action designed to produce specific results. Note that the emphasis is on goal-directed action. Ob-jectives can be determined and achieved if properly planned for. The network of decisions recognizes the in-terrelationships between internal and external factors and that earlier decisions may greatly influence later ones. On more than one occasion I have heard of a diocese "giving" a high school to an order. The deci-sion to accept, in at least two instances, has meant a considerable drain on the human and financial re-sources of the orders concerned and effectively com-mitted them to that apostolate for many years, irrespec-tive of the priorities of the sisters in the congregations. Throughout our private and corporate lives we make decisions under conditions of uncertainty; and we trust, with varying degrees of probability, that the outcomes will be as anticipated. The formal process of planning described briefly here does not guarantee success, how-ever that may be defined, but it considerably enhances the probability. SRI does not talk about short and long range planning as separate functions. Planning is the function that ex-tends into the future as far as is considered desirable. If a college operated by an order requires 50 percent of its faculty to be religious (so it can provide Christian wit- 4. 4- + Stewardship VOLUME 2% 1970 647 ]. D~ .McConnell REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS '648 ness and remain economically viable), the retirement pattern for the next six or seven years determines what type of graduate fellowships should be offered for both the coming academic year and the several that. follow. The awarding of fellowships in its turn requires that other decisions be made.This year's budget and deci-sions should be determined on the basis of their con-tribution to the long range objectives of the institution or order, and not be de facto determiners of the direc-tion the organization takes. The Genius Founder Our research studies and project work concerned with the nature of organizations, corporate development, and successful management have indicated that, in almost every case, successful organizations of all kinds have been the brainchild of a single person or, in rare instances, of two in partnership. Names such as Vincent de Paul, St. Ignatius Loyola, Elizabeth Seton, Catherine McAuley, St. Francis Xavier Cabrini, Baden Powell, General Booth, Henry Ford, Alfred Sloan-Charles Kettering, Gen-eral Wood, Hewlett-Packard, the Pilkinton Brothers, Andrew Carnegie, and H. J. Heinz come readily to mind. By analyzing the attributes and state of mind of the "genius founder" of the business enterprise, SRI devel-oped a framework of tasks designed to re-create the mental processes of the genius entrepreneur within the management team of the corporation. Let me explain further. As we see it, the success of the "genius founder" is in large measure caused by his un-swerving dedication to setting high goals and .to reach-ing for them. He has vision on which he bases his own objectives and sets his own goals. And he does this not simply on the basis of last year's results plus some growth factor or what has always been done, but on the basis of his own perception of his own capabilities and the drive to satisfy his own needs. These attributes of vision and ~ommitment in goal setting are most impor-tant. Other distinguishing attributes of our "genius founders" appear to us to be: oA willingness to assume risk oA sense of inquisitiveness or unceasing curiosity ~Insight into relationships between concepts, objec-tives, needs, and needs satisfaction; the ability to see implications or utility ~Ability to make sound value judgments as to what is central and peripheral to attaining his objectives ~Creativity, be it in the area of product, technology, or a new marketing approach oFeasibility judgment based on foresight, experience, and a problem-solving ability oAbility to marshall the resources needed to accom-plish his objectives and goals oAdministrative ability to organize the resources to accomplish his goals and satisfy his inner needs. Organized Entrepreneurship To translate the "genius founder" or "genius entre-preneur" concept to the complex organization, SRI de-veloped a methodological framework that we call "or-ganized entrepreneurship." This framework provides a process of planning that meets the criteria of compre-hensiveness, logic (including provision for retraceable logic), participation by the corporate membership, time-liness, generation of rapid understanding based on a common frame of reference, and an orientation toward results, that is, the decisions reached can be acted on and managed. Through a series of tasks it also repro-duces corporately the distinguishing attributes of the entrepreneur. Let us now briefly go through the planning steps with their various tasks to show you how they fit together in a logical pattern. Step 1: Determination of Corporate Objectives Many institutes and orders have approached the question of who they are and what they want to achieve in overly simplistic terms. Too often purpose is expressed only in broad conceptual statements such as "the glorification of the Lord," "mercy," and "charity" and in terms such as "care for the homeless, the sick, and the aged," and "Christian education." Motherhood statements of a broad nature serve a unifying purpose but tend to let the members of a congregation under-take any work whether it really fits the primary purposes of the order or not. What a congregation is and what it is about are com-plex issues, and definitional statements formulated must take into account the expectations of the several stake-holder groups, the corporate skills and resources, and environmental change. One implication of this is that objectives have to be reviewed periodically. The end result is a family of objectives or, as people like Grangerx and Boyd and Levy2 have termed it, a hierarchy of objectives. a Charles H. Granger, "The Hierarchy of Objectives," Harvard Business Review, May-June 1964, pp. 63-74. ~ Harper W. Boyd and Sidney J. Levy, "What Kind o£ Corporate Objectives?" Journal o] Marketing, October 1966, pp. 53-8. Stewaraship VOLUME 29, 1970 64:9 ÷ ÷ ÷ ]. D. McConnell REVIEW FOR'RELIGIOUS 650 When defining the broad purpose of an organization, one has to recognize the sometimes conflicting interests of the stakeholders, that is, the members, the diocese(s),. the suppliers, and the customers (parishes, students, pa-tients, and the like) and yet resolve the conflict. Be-neath this broad umbrella a hierarchy of objectives is formulated for each stakeholder group, apostolate area, and the generalate of the congregation. As one goes through the hierarchy, the objectives become more specific in their direction, their distance, and the rate at which they can be achieved. The specification of objec-tives also facilitates the development of key criteria for evaluating performance and, sociologically, it recognizes the reality of the situation. The refusal of many clergy to accept Pope Paul's ruling on birth control was really a move to realign those matters considered to be within the realm of individual conscience, those .considered to be within the realm of the clergy, and those considered to obe essential to the faith and therefore within the realm of the Holy See. The present thrust to clean up the environment is an expression of the expectations of the-community stakeholders whose objectives have not been accorded rightful emphasis in the past by a society that has acceded too often to the claims of industry. To develop this hierarchy of objectives it is necessary to undertake a series of analyses. Stakeholder .4 nalysis The typical stakeholders in a congregation of religious are the members, .the diocese(s), functional or apostolate groups, customers, suppliers, financial institutions, and the community within which it operates. For each stakeholder group the governing board at-tempts to answer the following broad questions: oWhat does this group want from the congregation? oWhat expectations does this group have for the con-gregation? ~To what extent are these expectations being met? ~To what extent can the congregation meet them, recognizing .that it is impossible to do everything? Expectations will relate to such items as number and quality of services provided, fees charged, availability, citizqnship, jobs provided, behavior, ethics, and morality. The analyses should take into account the present balance and reconciliation of stakeholder interests, rec-ognizing conflicting interest and expectations as well as attempting to assess what is changing that will affect future expectations. A realistic stakeholder analysis within most dioceses would reveal the extent to which the expectations of local parish priests are being met at the expense of sacrificing the interests of the other stakeholders--the students, the parents, and lthe teachers (lay and religious) staffing the schools. An~ interesting commercial example is the Unilever Company in Africa, which made realistxc stakeholder analyses and surwved the nationalistic fervor of transition fromI colonies to countries by becoming a manufacturer rather than a trader, an economic developer of local resources rather than an extractor, and a partner rather tha~n an oppo-nent. Today, Unilever has a stronger position than ever in African markets. Special studies are almost mandatory because the senior corporate managementI group can hardly be expected to know the basic underlying factors determlmng expectations and perceptions of the stake-holder groups. The provisional stakeholder analysis for ~any commu-nity would include such factors as the percentage of families directly employed by the ~nstxtut,e; the con-gregation's contribution to and percentage of local taxes, if any; the number of members in religiohs teaching, social, civic, and political jobs (full and pa~t time); the annual contributions by the congregation Ito area or-ganizations; sponsorship of local groups; pol~itical action (lobbying, testifying regardxng leg~slatxon) at all levels; and local community attitudes toward the institutions of the congregation. In overseas operations it should also include studies of such factors as ~he political climate, stability of government, acceptan~ce, cultural variables, and attitudes toward overseas-based congrega-tions. Customer analysis will vary by type of apostolate. An orphanage would have different criteria froth those of a college or a retreat center, for example. Nevertheless, all analyses should include estimates for each class of serv-ice, the total potential "customers," the actual numbers served, the "market" share by value and volume, and an evaluation of quality of service as perceivec.lI by custom-ers. As is readily apparent, data on stakeholtler expecta-tions have to be gathered from a wide variety of sources: internally within the congregation, from independent appraisers, and from those actually served. Determining Corporate Potential The final component of this first task of ~tetermining corporate objectives is the establishment of a level of ~ . aspiration in the form of the corporate potentxal. Henry Ford estimated his potential as prowd~ng e~,ery Ameri-can family with an automobile. William Hesketh Lever wanted to make cleanliness commonplace in an era when Queen Victoria took a bath "once a week, whether she ÷ ÷ ÷ VOLUME 29, 1970 651 4. 4. 4. ~. D. McConnell REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS needed it or not." Our genius entrepreneurs have al-ways reached high, and this has been true of religious like Saint Vincent de Paul or Martin Luther King. The SRI approach is to treat potential as an expres-sion of the governing board's attitude to the congrega-tion's future. Potential can be expressed both in Ford's and Lever's conceptual terminology and also in more pragmatic terms such as the amount of patient care pro-vided, number of students educated, social work case loads, financial soundness, professional hours contrib-uted, and average Sunday morning attendance at Mass. Corporate potential is based on all key-planning issues derived from studying the social and economic outlook, the apostolate areas in which the company is interested, the opportunities for more effective resource utilization, the likely effects of important stakeholder expectations, and a congregation's own conclusions about its level of ambition and strength of commitment. As we see it, the determination of potential stimu-late~, motivates, and enables speculation about its attain-ability. Projected results are not predictions in the com-monly accepted sense but are simply estimates of what could happen when the assumptions made turn out to be valid. The concept aims at stimulating the setting of ambitious congregational and apostolic goals. The result of this phase of the planning process is the setting of a hierarchy of corporate objectives, including a set of ambitious yet realistic human resources and financial objectives. For an order of women religious today to expect to maintain a membership of 1,500 highly qualified professionals by recruiting 50 to 60 novices a year is totally unrealistic. Sound corporate ob-jectiv. es, together with a clear concept of what religious life is all about, should enable a congregation, however, to arrest and then reverse the currently familiar down-ward trend. Step 2: The Assembling o[ In[ormation The assembling of information consists of four main tasks: An in-depth evaluation of what is being done now, an analysis of the skills and resources of the con-gregation, an evaluation of environmental change, and an appraisal of planning issues. The goals and objectives of the congregation and its apostolate areas are explicated to obtain sets of criteria for the evaluations that have to .be undertaken. Once the criteria are established, it is relatively simple (1) to de-ten- nine what information is needed and the data sources necessary for an objective in-depth analysis and evaluation, (2) to develop instruments to collect data not already in existence, and (3) to put all these to-gether. Analysis of the skills and resources of the organization requires three studies: one of government, one of human resources, and one of financial resources. SKI suggests the development of a computerized personnel inventory. This enables detailed analysis and projections to be un-dertaken, as well as aiding in matching skills and in-terests to apostolic needs. Studies of environmental change can and should be obtained from a number of sources. They may be as broad as Kahn and Wiener's ,Economics to the Year 2018/' .~ or as specialized as a local city planning com-mission's forecasts of school population. Most congrega-tions are largely unaware of the amount of information on environmental change that is available just for the asking. In planning the future staffing for elementary schools in a diocese, one order learned that a school would disappear completely within fi~e years because the city planned a freeway through the area, which would mean the razing of almost all homes in the parish. The trends in the age distxibution of an area may indicate the development of different needs in future health care (less obstetric and more geriatric and cardiac care, for instance) and types of social services offered. Undertaking environmental analysis is one thing; ensuring its acceptance and use by management is an-other. One large sophisticated American company un-dertook a test market study in Japan to see if a market existed for a type of convenience snack food. The cor-porate management were ethnocentric about this prod-uct to the point that they refused to believe unfavora-ble test market results the first and second times around and insisted the study be replicated a third time. Busi-ness has no monopoly on this form of myopia, and much of the Church's attitudes toward parochial education appears analogous. The final task in the assembling of information, the appraisal of planning issues, is undertaken by the planning group. Following house or apostolate briefings, planning issues are solicited from those judged to have "management perspective"; to contact all members of the congregation has been our rule to date. Each mem-ber submits as many issues as he desires on a standard-ized form. In the first planning cycle the issues tend to be highly oriented to the present, but experience shows that in subsequent cycles the time horizon expands con-siderably. Typically, the submitted issues identify the 8 Herman Kahn and Arthur J. Wiener, Economics to the Fear 2018 (New York: Macmillan. 1967). 4- 4- St~ardship VOLUME 29, 1970 1. D. Mc~onne// REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 654 ~functionM point of impact on the institution or con-gregation, the nature of the impact, whatever supporting evidence exists, and suggested ranges of possible action. Issues are then grouped into families of issues that have common causes, that yield to a common solution, or that can be assigned to a single responsible person. You may ask: "Why solicit planning issues from mem-bers as a major basic input to the planning process?" The underlying assumptions are that people will do only what they see is of interest and importance to them and that each individual's perception is his reality. Members of a congregation cannot be expected to devote time and energy to matters they do not consider relevant to them as religious. The system also provides government with an excel-lent upwards channel of communication and, by per-mitting every member to participate and contribute ac-tively, enhances the probabilities of acceptance of the plan and a commitment to achieve it. This participative philosophy is touched on again later in this article. Step 3: Development of Planning Actions The major superior and the members of the governing board then read through each family of planning issues, screening out those where action has already been taken or is imminent, or where incorrect perception is in-volved. In these cases executive action is indicated. Each family of issues is then reviewed in the light of the corporate objectives, special studies' highlights, the analysis of resources, and the "real" message indicated by the issues. The members of the governing group then take each family of issues and identify the kind of action it suggests, what is at stake in terms of costs and benefits, the costs (both out of pocket and opportunity) of taking action, the degree of urgency, the first and second order implications of the kind of action sug-gested, and the management personnel who should at-tend to it. These individual efforts in translating issues to responses are then reviewed by the whole of the ex-ecutive group whose discussions strive to combine re-lated actions into broader, more fundamental actions and to identify important actions still missing. Use of a task force to assist in this process may be helpful. Suggested actions emerging from this review should then be tested by whatever means deemed appropriate. Feasible actions are then grouped by three or more levels of priority. Step 4: Preparation of the Provisional Plan In this s~ep of the planning process the proposals for action are translated into specific action assignments that, when completed in detail, provide the goals, action, and controls portion of the provisional plan. This provi-sional plan corresponds with the marshaling ability of our "genius entrepreneur." We suggest the use of a specific form that, when ap-proved by the assignment group and accepted by the action assignee, represents an authorization to proceed and a cohtract to perform the specified action in the terms stated. One important set of Form 3s, as we call them, relate to the continuance of present operations and thus ensure that all aspects of the congregation's activities form part of the plan. Before final approval the Form 3s flows through the finance and planning offices, where calculations of total costs and benefits are made for each priority level and are compared with total resources available. This pro-vides the governing board with a means to decide how many and which tasks can be undertaken within the planning period. The actions, tasks, or projects selected are then built into estimates of benefits and costs to see the effects on congregational performance and where the plan will posit the congregation with respect to its current per-formance, intermediate goals, and movement toward at-tainment of the longer range objectives. At this point the planning group updates the special studies' highlights; assembles the draft statements on corporate objectives and key assumptions; and produces summaries of the action programs in terms of timing, pro forma financial statements (operating statement, balance sheet, cash flow), and resource requirements (manpower, equipment, facilities, and capital)--broken down by organizational units, priorities, and whether they are current or developmental operations. The natural advocate of each action proposed then describes it and leads discussion within the governing board to double-check the plan in terms of the realism of goals, schedules, and cost/benefit estimates, of agreed-on performance standards (that is, the rules of the game), of interdependence among organizational units, of effects of unrealistic goals on the rest of the congregation, and of whether each action proposed is justified in terms of the congregation's objectives. This may sound like a detailed process that takes a lot of central government's time, and it does. But it ensures that: oThe government group understands all aspects of the proposed plan. oWithin the context of the emerging corporate pur-pose and strategy there is a review of program con-÷ ÷ ÷ VOLUME 29, 1970 655 ÷ ÷ ÷ ]. D. M~mme~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 656 tent, a rank ordering of programs, and anallocation of resources in accordance with priorities. oAn appraisal of various program combinations oc-curs, highlighting the relative emphasis on continu-ing present activities and developing new ones, the magnitude of effort required to reach each poten-tial, and the timing and sequence of interrelated programs. oAfter final decisions and allocations are made, the provisional plan is put in final form and presented by the major superior to the board for approval, and then approved programs are channeled to ac-tion assignees. The first year o£ the plan is the congregation's budget. The congregation is now at the point of managing by plan, which parallels the "genius entrepreneur" charac-teristic of administrative ability. It has succeeded in rep-licating the characteristics of the "genius entrepreneur" in a corporate framework. In subsequent periods the congregation recycles through the planning process, and the family of plans is updated and reissued. The first year of the plan as up-dated becomes the operating budget and the final year of the plan is extended. Here perhaps a word of warning is in order. Remember that lead time is an absolute necessity. It takes three to five years before major moves have a real impact on a corporation, and SRI believes that the same will hold true for congregations of religious. Maior in-depth evaluations are probably required only about every five years. In the interim period the special studies, updating of stakeholder analyses, and solicitation of planning issues from members are all that is likely to be required. Conclusion Our experience has been that the organized entre-preneurship model works. In the five years (this is the sixth) that SRI has been conducting executive seminars in business planning, more than 600 executives from over 300 companies representing every continent of the globe have participated. Many corporations, such as Coca-Cola, Owens-Corning Fiberglas, Lockheed, Merck, and Cyanamid, have been using one or more variations of the model with considerable success. The model de-scribed here is the adaptation that has been developed for congregations of religious despite the difficulties of measuring benefits and some kinds of costs when non-financial criteria are applicable. It is too early to say to what degree the orders SRI has assisted with planning have benefited, but there is every reason to believe that they are adapting with the times and will continue to be dynamic forces in the Church and wider society in the years ahead. Highly idealistic, yet realistic, spiritual and temporal goals and objectives have been determined. Honest objective evaluations have been undertaken, recommendations have been made, plans for their implementation have been drawn up, and these are being put into effect. Government has been democratized and strengthened. Management sys-tems have been introduced. And all of this has been done by directly involving some 250 members of each order in task forces and less directly involving all mem-bers through solicitation of information, opinions, at-titudes, and issues important to them. The final plan is theirs and they are committed to it. This motivation alone enhances the probabilities of success. In addition, the management skills of these congregations have been added to greatly. The sense of community has been en-hanced by the reaffirmation of congregational goals and objectives, the open realization of the pluralism inherent in any large group of people, and the translation from concept to action of both subsidiarity and collegiality. Another vital factor that enhances the probabilities of the orders strengthening themselves as a result of the introduction of modern management techniques and planning as part of their renewal is the quality of .their leadership. It takes strong, forward-looking leaders to see the benefits from and to commit their members to a major planning project such as this and then see that it reaches fruition. Good management is good stewardship of resources to attain goals and objectives and to provide the greatest benefits for all stakeholders with the resources available. One essential component of good management is plan-ning. ÷ ÷ ÷ S~ardshi~ VOLUME 29, 1970 657 LOUIS G. MILLER, C.Ss.R. The Social Responsibility of Religious Louis G. Miller, (~,Ss.R., is on the staff of Liguori Publication in Li-guori, Mo. 65057. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 658 It is in the temper of our times that religious who take the vow of poverty are under close scrutiny. The youthful generation has a sharp eye for phoniness, and they are quick to draw attention to the gap that seems to exist between professing a vow of poverty and the actual living of a poor life. The matter concerns the individual religious and it also concerns the religious order or congregation as a whole. The following reflections have to do with one aspect of the problem which, in my opinion, religious communities have, generally speaking, neglected in the past. I mean the responsibility of devoting some part of the community funds to investment in projects designed to help relieve the most pressing social problem of our time: the widening gulf between the haves and the have nots in our society. Before developing my theme, let me state that I am well aware of the self-sacrificing work being done by religious in their parishes and in teaching and nursing programs for the poor and deprived. When a parish staffed by members of a religious order goes through the inevitable cycle and changes from middle-class to low-income parishioners, the people stationed there pitch in, ordinarily, and try to adapt to the new situation that is thrust upon them with energetic zeal. What we are concerned with in this article is social consciousness on the provincial level. In the ordinary course of development, a province will accumulate funds, and it will seek ways to invest these funds. The interest from these investments goes to the support of educational institutions and missionary projects. There are two ways of doing this. A religious community can invest its funds under the single motivating principle that the investments be safe and that they bring the highest possible return. This is the course followed by many a conscientious bursar or procurator, and in the past, few questioned it. Another way of going about .the matter of investing funds would be to look for ways and means of applying them to the alleviation of the pressing social crisis of our time. No one can be unaware that such a crisis exists. It finds expression in the widening gulf between rich and poor, the increasing bitterness in the racial confrontation, and the alienation between generations that seems to result from the other factors. In Vatican II's Decree on the Appropriate Renewal of Religious Life there is a very apt expression of community responsibility in this regard. After noting that "poverty voluntarily embraced in imitation of Christ provides a witness which is highly esteemed, especially today," the Decree goes on to say: Depending on the circumstances of their location, communi-ties as such should aim at giving a kind of corporate witness to their own poverty. Let them willingly contribute something from their own resources to the other needs otr the Church, and to the support of the poor, whom religious should love with the tenderness of Christ (Number 13). As we well know, the young appear to find it.difficult to put their faith and trust in any kind of "establish-ment" today. They only too readily suppose that an institution of its very nature is so hamstrung by long-standing traditions that it cannot move in the direction of new and imaginative ventures. Over and above the tremendous work being done by religious in, for example, inner city projects; over and above occasional cash donations to worthy causes, I believe we need something in the nature of a symbolic gesture on the level of capital fund investment. I believe this would serve as a large factor in winning the confidence of young people that we are indeed willing to back up our words with our deeds, and that as an institution we can take a forward step. The heart of the social crisis today, most authorities agree, is the housing problem. The United States Commission on Civil Rights calls this the "most ubiquitous and deeply rooted civil rights problem in America." The Koerner Report agrees and makes it clear that its dimensions are so great that if a solution is not found within a few years, the resultant pressures could produce riots far more terrible than those our country experienced two or three years ago. The plain fact of the matter is that while each year 1.5 million new family homes are built in the United States, nearly all of them are on a de facto segregated basis. Since World War II the FHA and VA have financed $120,000,000 in new housing. According to a ÷ ÷ Social l~sponsibitity VOL~bl~ 2% k970 .I. + L. G. MC.iSllse.Rr,. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 6~0 survey made two years ago by the American Friends' Service Commission, less than two percent of this housing has been available, kealistically available, to non-whites. Each year we get larger white belts in our suburbs and more compressed black cores in our cities. The black core is continually compressed inward upon itself. Recently in St. Louis representatives of the president's Commission on Civil Rights, under the chairmanship of Father Theodore Hesburgh, after long hearings on the situation there, issued a depressing report that, although legally integrated housing is in force, de facto segregation in the great majority of suburbs is still very much the order of the day. He was quoted as saying: "Everybody we interviewed admitted that we have a grave problem; but nobody knows what to do about it." I propose that we direct some of our provincial invest-ments, perhaps a tithe of 10 percent, to the alleviation of this de facto discrimination in housing. In doing so, we would not of course be pioneers among church groups. There are available for study a number of interesting examples of what can be done and has been done. In Akron, Ohio, there is a nonprofit interfaith organization, organized in 1964, called INPOST, spon-sored by local Episcopal, Lutheran, Methodist, and Presbyterian churches. INPOST has directed several million dollars of investment into a complex of 108 units of low-cost housing, 72 units of high-rise housing, and 28 town houses. It is hoped that this complex will become a model for similar developments across the country. The diocese of Peoria for the next three years will advance $35,000 annually toward urban renewal and poverty programs in their area, with special emphasis on housing projects. We have noticed in the news recently that the Chicago Jesuit province recently made available $100,000 to be used as bond money to try to keep black families from being evicted from their homes. These are families with no equity in their homes even years after purchase at inflated prices, and legally able to be evicted on missing one payment. The Franciscan Sisters of Wheaton, Illinois, have announced an $8,000,000 plan to build and operate as nonprofit sponsors a residential complex for senior citizens and middle-income families in that area. The diocese of Detroit has been a leader in approving at least one $74,000 loan as seed money for testing the feasibility of having houses prefabricated by the hard-core unem-ployed for erection in the inner city. There is a national organization,, with headquarters in Washington, D. C., called SOHI, or "Sponsors of Open House Investment." Congressman Donald M. Frazer is its chairman, and numbered in its long list of sponsors is a host of distinguished Americans of all creeds and a variety of professional competences. It seeks to promote investment by individuals or by non-profit institutions of about 10 percent of their available investment capital in housing that is open to all. The organization does not itself invest. But it alerts indi-viduals and nonprofit groups to investment opportuni-ties in equal housing. It seeks to bring together investors of good will and housing professionals who are com-mitted to open occupancy. It operates on the principle that if a person cannot do anything himself to help solve the housing problem, his funds, if he has money to invest, can be an eloquent voice to help in the terrible silence of the decent in facing up to the housing problem that exists in our Country today. Under the slogan "National Neighbors" it seeks to build bridges of understanding between people, whatever their race or color. The Headquarters of SOHI is located at 1914 Connecticut Ave., N. W., Washington, D. C. 20009. Objection to these proposals can be made, of course, on the grounds that there is a smaller interest rate on such investments, and they are not as safe as blue chip stocks. Also, the objector might continue, the religious community needs all the money it can scrape together in these difficult times to support the various projects already in operation. But I submit that this does not absolve us from our social responsibility. If things are tough for us, they are much tougher for a great many people in the have-not group. They are a lot tougher even for people who have the money, but who can't buy a home in a decent neighborhood because their skin is black. If the social problem in our country is not met and dealt with, the most gilt edged investments will not be of much use or solace in the turmoil and violence that may follow. ÷ ÷ ÷ so~d VOLUME 29, 1970 661 SISTER M. RITA FLAHERTY, R.S.M. Psychological Needs of CeBbates and Others ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister Rita is chairman of the Department of Psy-chology; C~rlow College; Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 662 Today when the value of celibacy--to which so many thousands of priests and religious are committed--is being questioned, it seems important that every facet of the problem be examined. The questioning seems to be the result of: (1) Vatican II's emphasis on the true value of marriage as a way of life that can lead to the highest sanctity and spiritual fulfillment, (9) the research of Biblical schoIars which raises questions about the time, place, circumstances, and even authenticity of those words of Christ which were formerly quoted in defense of celibacy, (3) the difficulty of practicing celi-bacy in a culture that places a high premium on sexual pleasure, and (4) the emotional difficulties that can arise as a result of deprivation of this important physical and psychological need. While all aspects of this problem deserve close study, it is with the last aspect that this paper will be concerned. In spite of all these problems and new discoveries, there are many religious and priests who cannot ignore what they believe is the prompting of the Spirit to live a celibate life. These people who choose to live in the unmarried state are entitled, it would seem, to have this freedom and also to have any help from psychologists or others who can aid them in solving some of the problems that may arise as a result of that choice. Although this study is directed toward the needs of celibates, actually much of the material is applicable to both married and unmarried alike. Basic psychological needs are to a great extent universal, differing only in emphasis and means of satisfaction from one cultural group to another. In studying the behavior of humans, psychologists in general would conclude that all behavior is motivated, that is, it arises from some need within man. Behavior, as defined by psychologists, is an attempt to provide satisfaction for a need. What is a need? What happens when a need is experienced? A need is a state o[ tension or disequilib-rium that results from some lack within the person. When this need is felt, it causes the person to become tense and restless; it activates him to perform some action in order to relieve the need--to get rid of the tension and to achieve a state of ~atisfaction or equilib-rium. A man who is watching a television 'show may not be conscious of his need for food, but he does become restless while watching and jumps up at the commercial and goes to the refrigerator to find something to eat. This behavior is directed towards a goal that will relieve the tension from hunger. Hunger is classified as a physical need, along with thirst, need for sleep, for oxygen, for elimination, for sex, and for many other activities that help to maintain a state of physical satisfaction. Each of these physical needs is tied in with a biological system within the body which in most cases depends on satisfaction of the physical need for survival. One cannot imagine a man being deprived of oxygen for more than eight minutes or deprived of water for more than a week or of food for much more than a month, without dying. Therefore when the person becomes aware of the lack of oxygen, water, or food he becomes agitated and rest-less and gradually filled with tension until he finds a suitable object to satisfy his need. And so it is with all the other physical needs, .including sex, except that the need for sex seems to be the only one which is not necessary for the individual's preservation of life--it is, however, very important in the preservation of the race. For this reason celibates need not worry about endangering their lives, but they must expect a certain amount of frustration and tension resulting from the deprivation of this basic physiological drive which in man is also part of his whole personality. However, physical needs comprise only one of three categories that may be termed human needs. One must also consider psychological and spiritual needs in studying human behavior. Although many psychologists discuss a large variety of psychological needs the five most com-monly mentioned include: affection, security, achieve-ment, independence, and status. Since these needs are more subtle and do not usually lead to loss of life, people are often unaware of the tension created by them. Yet the tension can become very strong and even lead in some individuals to a complete disorganization of personality which could be termed a kind of psy-chological "death." ÷ ÷ Sister Rita REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS TiLe need for affection implies the need to give and receive love. This is very important throughout life, but seems most important during infancy and early childhood, in studies done by Ribble, Spitz and others young infants deprived of mothering, that is, fondling, petting, and other signs of affection have in some cases gradually wasted away in a disease called maras-mus. Older children and adults may not die from lack of affection but they may develop some severe person-ality deviations. The second psychological need mentioned is that of security which Karen Homey defines as the need to feel safe from the dangers of a hostile and threatening world. Physical security is not the important element here as was demonstrated by the children who ex-perienced the terrors of the London bombings during the Second World War. It was found after the war that those who were separated from their parents and sent to places of safety in the country showed more psychological disturbance and insecurity than those who lived through the raids in the city of London while staying with their parents. Evidently the presence of people who love you makes one feel more secure than any amount of physical safety in the presence of strangers. As adults, we experience insecurity when we fear that no one loves us or that those people who are present in a situation we perceive as threatening do not really know us or understand us. The next psychological need is achievement or the feeling that one has accomplished something worthwhile. The individual must be convinced himself of his achievement. Another person telling him that his work is good is not sufficient if he himself is dissatisfied with the outcome. Therefore when one reaches a personal goal, a feeling of real achievement can be experienced-- but often p~ople who are deprived of affection or feel insecure cannot feel a satisfying experience of achieve-ment. The anxiety that is generated by deprivation of these other psychological needs may either paralyze their efforts so they cannot achieve, or if they do achieve, the results are rendered personally unsatis-fying. Once a person can achieve, however, he usually wants to become independent. The need for independ-ence involves the ability to make decisions and take responsibility for one's own actions. During adolescence this need gets very strong and continues throughout life. One can never be considered a mature adult until he has achieved an independence of "though.t, decision, and action. Finally the need for status or a feeling of self-worth must be considered as probably the most improtant psychological need found in humans. The need for status includes the desire to be a worthwhile person-- to be a good person. Everyone has this very basic need to see himself as a person who is worthwhile. Anyone who views himself as bad, inferior, or inadequ.ate does not satisfy his need for status. More Americans are visiting clinical psychologists today because they "hate" themselves, than for any other reason. If this need for self-worth is not fulfilled the person cannot be really happy. A final category of human needs is not usually men-tioned in psychology books but should be noted here, that is, spiritual needs. These include a need to believe, love, and worship an absolute Being--someone outside of man who is infinitely good and powerful. Spiritual needs also include the need to "live for others," to go out to others, to have a meaning for one's life. Depriva-tion of needs in the spiritual area are less perceptible, that is, many people can seemingly go for years without showing tension over these needs. However, because these needs are most subtle does not mean they do not exist or that they are less important. Since psychology is a relatively new science it is understandable that very little investigation has been conducted in this intimate but obscure area of man's personality. Victor Frankl and other psychotherapists are writing more often these days about existential neurosis, which is a frustration and anxiety caused by a lack of purpose in one's life. Those individuals who see no purpose in life or reason for living may very often be suffering from a deprivation of spiritual needs. Now in considering the problems brought on by these needs one must remember that they can be operating on a conscious or an unconscious level. A man may be aware that he is hungry and go in search of food, or sometimes he may be unaware that the frus-tration, tension, and even depression he experiences could be eased by eating a good meal and perhaps getting a good night's sleep. So, while most physical needs are consciously felt, sometimes needs for food, sex, sleep, and so forth may be causing tension for which we cannot account. The psychological needs are much more likely to operate on an unconscious level, perhaps because many people would be loathe to admit their needs for affection, approval, status, and so forth. It is possible for a person to be aware that he needs to be loved or esteemed by others, but it is more likely that he would repress this, thereby causing the need to operate on the unconscious level. Finally, spiritual needs are most likely to be 4- 4- 4- Need~ o] Celibates VOLUME 29, 1970 665 Sister Rita REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 666 repressed and many people go through life not realizing that they have a human need for God--a need to depend on an all-powerful Being for love and help. One might ask how a discussion of these needs js involved in the problems of celibates. It is the thesis of this paper that many celibates can stand the frustration involved in a deprivation of the sex need if other needs are adequately met. For religious it is likely that the physical and spiritual needs are satisfied more often than the psychological ones. Because of faulty training in the areas of friendship, detachment, and obedience a number of celibates ex-perience extreme frustration in areas of at~ection, security, and independence. Because of a fear of engendering pride or a false concept of humility many religious practices have also deprived individuals of a feeling of self-worth. Rarely in the past was praise given for work well-done, and it is the unusual person who can satisfy his need for self-esteem unless he sees others regarding him as a good person. In the past some celibates ma~ have been able to maintain some feeling of worth and goodness based solely on the assumption that celibacy was a "higher" form of life than marriage. Now, postconcilar writers are emphasizing that all states of life can lead to sanctity and that all Christians are called to lead a life of perfection. By thus equalizing the various states, the only prop that some celibates had for a feeling of self-worth (admittedly it was a poor onel) has been pulled away from them. Also in the past the People of God tended to look to those leading a celibate life as somehow being better than non-celibate Christians. Now there is a tendency in Catholic books, articles, and newspapers to question the value of celibacy. This questioning accompanied some-times with a kind of ridicule and cynicism may even-tually cause some celibates to become skeptical about the celibate commitment they have made. Those religious and priests who are abandoning the state of celibacy and seeking dispensations to marry are not necessarily suffering primarily from the deprivation of the sex need. It may be that a person who feels lonely, unloved, and unappreciated may seek in the marriage state the companionship, love, and appreciation that could legitimately have been given him in a loving Christian community. On the other hand, it must be admitted that some celibates may feel it necessary to invest their love in one person of the opposite sex, and thus realize that marriage is the only solution for them. In a recent study cited in the International Herald Tribune (March 10, 1970) the results of a Harvard study conducted by James Gill, S.J., showed that in the case of the 2500 priests leaving the United States priest-hood each year, celibacy does not seem to be the major causal factor. Father Gill indicates that he finds that the priests who are leaving and marrying are very often depressed. The priest dropout was most often a man who found himself taken for granted in a crowded system that sometimes denies the human need for approval. This discovery has caused some of the Church's most dedicated and talented priests to become sad, lonely, disillusioned, and resentful. As one examines these findings of Gill, one is reminded of a similar syndrome that psychiatrists have found in many young business executives--men who find themselves caught up in a structure filled with activity but which leaves the individual disillusioned with a system that deperson-alizes him. It is likely, then, that the American culture is a big factor in the working structui~e of the Church in the United States and that the same conditions that operate in the society to dehumanize the individual are also operating in the Church structure. In a personality analysis, Gill found that many of the priest dropouts were task-oriented men, who were raised by their parents in such a way that the achieve-ment of goals, particularly difficult ones, appealed strongly to them. They tended to go about their work in a compulsive, perfectionistic way, not seeking or enjoying pleasure from it, but aiming unconsciously at the recognition and approval they would gain from those they served. Father Gill goes on to show that when this recognition and approval are not experienced, the priest is in deep emotional trouble. It takes between five and fifteen years for a priest like this to experience the disillusion-ment that will eventually lead to some kind of a crisis. The priest then begins to feel that he is being taken for granted, that nobody seems to care how hard he has worked. Usually priests like this have so consistently performed in a better than average manner that bishops and religious superiors simply expect that they will do a good job. Since applause and approval come less frequently with the passing years the priest gradually feels more and more dissatisfied with himself, with his role in the church, and with his requirement of celibacy, At this point in his life, he becomes an easy prey to emotional involvement with the first sensitive woman who comes into his life. It is evident from Gill's study and those of others that celibacy or deprivation of the sex need is not necessarily the principal problem. Many priests and VOLUME 29, '1970 religious who leave to marry are probably seeking satis-faction for basic psychological needs that could legiti-mately and rightly have been satisfied in a celibate community, or a group of Christians Who practice charity by looking out for the needs of their fellow-man. Celibates must be capable of interacting on a deep personal level with at least a few people. Through. these friendships they will be able to love and appreciate themselves, which in turn enables them to love others. ~In the past, authority figures were looked to for approval and recognition which would lead to some psychological satisfaction and a feeling of self-worth in the celibate. In the light of the findings cited above, it would seem advisable to educate all members of the celibate community (and eventually all the People of God) to a clear understanding of these emotional needs. Only in this way will it be possible for the celibate to receive from some of his peers th~ affection, approval, and sense of self-worth which is so necessary if he is to sustain the frustrations of living in a celibate en-vironment. New ideas about love, friendship, and obedience must be given to all sectors of the community, young and old alike, if the celibate is to survive psychologically. Also the value of the celibate life must be rediscovered, not as a "higher" kind of life, but as a life that can lead to a rich, happy existence as one spends it living for others and thereby living for God. ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister Rita REVIEW FOR" REI;IGIOUS 668 THOMAS A. KROSNICKI, S.V.DI The Early.Practice of Communion in the Hand Travel in the United States and Europe has reen-forced my impression that the practice of Communion reception in the hand has already become quite com-mon. Understandably, the reaction that it causes is quite varied. On the one hand, it is labeled another liberal innovation; on the other, it is seen as the. result of an honest endeavor to make the reception of the Eucharist an authentic sign. In any case, and this is the purpose of the present article, we should realize that this practice, now officially permitted in. Belgium, France, Germany, and Switzerland, is not an. unprec-edented development in the liturgy of the Church.1 Synoptic Considerations The Synoptic accounts record the institution narra-tive as taking place in the setting of a meal which was almost certainly the Passover meal.~ The bread that Jesus used at the Lord's Supper would have been the unleavened bread (matzoth) of the Jewish Passover rite. It is interesting to note, however, that by the time the evangelists set about to record the institution event, they simply used the Greek word "artos," or leavened bread. This is understandable since it is generally accepted by Scripture scholars that the words of institution in the Gospels present the tradition concerning the Lord's Sup-per as preserved in the very celebration of the Eucharist in the early Christian communities. It seems, therefore, that when the Eucharist was celebrated outside the Thomas A. Kros-nicld is a member of Collegio del Verbo Divino; Ca-sella ~.Postale" 5080; Rome, Italy. VOLUME 2% 1970 See "Taking Communion," Worship, v. 43 (1969), p. ~440. Mt 26:26; Mk 14:22-3; Lk 22:19. 669 ÷ T. A. Kromicki, $.V.D. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Passover week, leavened bread was commonly used by the early Church) We should also note in this context the word used to describe the distribution of the eucharistized bread. Jesus simply gave it to those who were present. "Take and eat," Jesus said to his apostles. The verb used is the Greek Xa~/3~vo~ which is a generic verb indicating the simple act of taking (with the hand) as is seen from the use of the same verb in Luke 22:19 where Jesus "took the leavened bread." (K~d Xo~v &prov). Frbm these considerations, though no direct proof is established, two points can be asserted. In the Apostolic Church the Eucharist was leavened bread and was dis-tributed in the ordinary manner of giving. A few selected texts ~om the writings of the Church fathers will clearly demonstrate that hand reception of the Eucharist was practiced in the first centuries. Tertullian to Cyril of Jerusalem We would not expect to find in the writings of the fathers an exact account of the mode of Communion reception that was common at their time. There was no reason for them to explain such practices. The most that one can find in searching through their works are oc-casional references to the practice. These indications point to hand reception. The oldest witness we have that the faithful received the Eucharist outside of the solemn liturgy and, in fact, in their homes, is Tertullian (d. 220). At the same time he is an implicit witness for the early practice of hand communion: A whole day the zeal of faith will direct its pleading to this quarter: bewailing that a Christian should come .from idols into the Church; should come from an adversary workshop into the house of God; should raise to God the Father hands which are the mothers of idols; should pray to God with the hands which, out of doors, are prayed to in opposition to God; should apply to the Lord's body those hands which confer bodies on demons. Nor is this sufficient. Grant that it be a small matter, if from other hands they received what they contaminate; but even those very hands deliver to others what they have con-taminated. Idol-artificers are chosen even into the ecclesiastical order. Oh wickednessl Once did the Jews lay hands on Christ; these mangle His body daily. Oh hands to be cut offl Now let the saying, 'If thy hand make thee to do evil, amputate it,' (Mt. 18.8) see to it whether it were uttered by way of similitude (merely). What hands more to be amputated than those in which scandal is done to the Lord's body? * ~ Encyclopedic Dictionary of the Bible (New York: 1963), pp. 697- 702; Joseph M. Powers, Eucharistic Theology (London: 1968), pp. 60-1. ~ Tertullian, On Idolatry (PL, v. 1, col. 744C-745A; trans.: Ante- Nicene Fathers, v. 11 [Edinburgh: 1869], p. 149). In Tertullian's To His Wife which discusses the dangers incurred by a Christian wife even with a "tolerant" pagan husband, we read: Do you think to escape notice when you make the Sign of the Cross on your bed or on your body? Or when you blow away, with a puff of your breath, some unclean thing? Or when you get up, as you do even at night, to say your prayers? In all this will it not seem that you observe some magical ritual? Will not your husband know what it is you take in secret before eating any other food? If he recognizes it as bread, will he not believe it to be what it is rumored to be? Even if he has not heard these rumors, will he be so ingenuous as to accept the explana-tion which you give, without protest, without wondering whether it is really bread and not some magic charm?" The Apostolic Tradition of Hippolytus of Rome (d. 235) goes into even more detail when giving prudential advice about home (and understandably hand) reception of the Eucharist: Every believer, before tasting other food, is to take care to receive the Eucharist. For if he receives it with faith, even if afterwards he is given something poisonous, it will not be able to do him harm. Everyone is to take care that no unbeliever, no mouse or other animal eats of the Eucharist, and that no particle of the Eucharist falls on the ground or is lost. For it is the Body of the Lord that the faithful eat and it is not to be treated care-lessly. o Cyprian's (d. 258) exhortation to the martyrs en-courages them to arm their right hands with the sword of the Spirit because it is the hand which "receives the Body of the Lord": And let us arm with the sword of the Spirit the right hand that it may bravely reject the deadly sacrifices that the hand which, mindful of the Eucharist, receives the Body of the Lord, may embrace Him afterwards to receive from the Lord the reward of the heavenly crown.~ When the same author speaks of the lapsed Christians, he says: On his back and wounded, he threatens those who stand and are sound, and because he does not immediately receive the Lord's Body in his sullied hands or drink of the Lord's blood with a polluted mouth, he rages sacrilegiously against the priests? ~ Tertullian, To His Wife (PL, v. 1, col. 1408AB; trans.: Ancient Christian Writers, v. 13 [Westminster: 1951], p. 30). ' 6 Hippolytus, Apostolic Tradition, cc. 36-7 (Bernard Botte, ed., La Tradition apostolique de saint Hippolyte [Miinster: 1963], pp. 82-5; trans.: Lucien Deiss, Early Sources o] the Liturgy [Staten Island: 1967], p. 68). ~ Cyprian, Letter 56 (PL, v. 4, col. 367AB; trans.: The Fathers o] the Church [hereafter = FC], v. 51 [Washington: 1964], p. 170 where the letter appears as Letter 58). 8 Cyprian, The Lapsed (PL, v. 4, col. 498B; trans.: FC, v. 36 [1958], pp. 76-7). ÷ ÷ ÷ 2". A. KrosM¢~, $.V~D. REVIEW FOR RELI@IOUS Moreover, Cyprian gives us two accounts of persons who were not worthy to receive the Eucharist in their hands. He writes: And when a certain woman tried with unclean hands to open her box in which was the holy Body of the Lord, there-upon she was deterred by rising fire from daring to touch it. And another man who, himself defiled, after celebration of the sacrifice dared to take a part with the rest, was unable to eat or handle the holy Body of the Lord, and found when he opened his hands that he was carrying a cinder.D Hand Communion reception was certainly practiced in the time of persecution as we know from Cyprian, but Basil (d. 379) is our best witness to this fact: Now, to receive the Communion daily, thus to partake of the holy Body of Christ, is an excellent and advantageous practice; for Christ Himself says clearly: 'He who eats my flesh and drinks my blood has life everlasting.' Who doubts that to share continually in the life is nothing else than to have a manifold life? We ourselves, of course, receive Communion four times a week, on Sundays, Wednesdays, Fridays,. and Saturdays; also on other days, if there is a commemoration of some saint. As to the question concerning a person being compelled to receive Communion by his own hand in times of persecution, when there is no priest or minister present, it is superfluous to show that the act is in no way offensive, since long-continued custom has confirmed this practice because of circumstances themselves. In fact, all the monks in the solitudes, where there is no priest, preserve Communion in their house and receive it .from their own hands. In Alexandria and in Egypt, each person, even of those belonging to the laity, has Communion in his own home, and, when he wishes, he receives with his own hands. For, when the priest has once and for all com-pleted the sacrifice and has given Communion, he who has once received it as a whole, when he partakes of it daily, ought reasonably to believe that he is partaking and receiving from him who has given it. Even in the Church the priest gives the particle, and the recipient holds it completely in his power and so brings it into his mouth with his own hand. Accordingly, it is virtually the same whether he receives one particle from the priest or many particles at one time?° There is reference here to more than hand commun-ion. Since no priest or deacon was present, in this case the persons communicated themselves. This was not, however, limited to times of persecution, as Basil points out. Cyril of Jerusalem (d. 386) gives us the clearest ac-count of the manner of hand communion common at his time. In his Mystagogic Catecheses addressed to his D Cyprian, The Lapsed (PL, v. 4, col. 500B-501A; trans.: FC, v. 36 [1958], pp. 79-80). Cyprian notes the practice of taking the Eucharist home and the reception of communion outside of the liturgical celebration. The Eucharist was in this ease reserved in some sort of a box. ~ Basil, Letter 93 (PG, v. 32, col. 484B-485B; trans.: FC, v. 13 [1951], pp. 208--9). catechumens we read: When you approach, do not go stretching out your open hands or having your fingers spread out, but make the left hand into a throne for the right which shall receive the King, and then cup your open hand and take the Body of Christ, reciting the Amen. Then sanctify with all care your eyes by touching the Sacred Body, and receive It. But be careful that no particles fall, for what you lose would be to you as if you had lost some of your members. Tell me, if anybody had given you gold dust, would you not hold fast to it with all care, and watch lest some of it fall /and be lost to you? Must you not then' be even more careful with that which is more precious than gold or diamonds, so that no particles are lost? u Augustine and the Early Middle Ages As we see from the above excerpts, the method of Communion reception up to the time o[ Augustine at least, indicates the practice of hand reception. With Augustine (d. 430) two innovations become apparent for the first time. The men are told to wash their hands; the women are instructed to receive the Eucharist on a white cloth, commonly called the "dominicale]" laid over their hands.1~ In Sermon 229 he writes: All the men, when intending to approach the alt~r, wash their hands, and all the women bring with them clean linen cloths upon which to receive, the body of Christ, thus they should have a clean body and pure heart so that they may re-ceive the sacrament of Christ with a good conscience.~ The same practice is mentioned in the Sermons of Caesarius of Arles.14 The first witness that this author was able to find, giving an explicit example of mouth reception of the Eucharist, was Gregory the Great (d. 604). The case in question is the reception of the Eucharist by an invalid from the hand of Pope Agapitus (535-536): While he [Agapitus] was passing through Greece, an invalid who could neither speak nor stand up was brought to him to be cured. While the weeping relatives set him down before the man of God he asked them with great concern whether they truly believed it possible for the man to be cured. They an-swered that their confident hope in his cure was based on the ~a Cyril of Jerusalem, Mystagogic Catecheses (PG, v. 33, col. l124B- 1125A; trans.: Joseph A. Jungmann, The Mass o[ the Roman Rite [London: 1959], pp. 508-9). ~ In 578 the Council of Auxerre stated the same in Canons 36 and 42 (Mansi, v. 9, p. 915). Canon ~6: "A woman is not to receive com-munion on the bare hand." Canon 42: "That every woman when communicating should have her 'dominicale.' If she does not have it, she should not communicate until the following Sunday." ~Augustine, Sermon 229 (PL, v. 39, col. 2168A). The sermon is probably by St. Maximus of Turin (Sth century). x~ Caesarius of Aries, Sermon 227 (Corpus Christianorum, v. 14, pp. 899-900; trans.: Andr~ Hamman, The Mass: Ancient Liturgies and Patristic Texts [Staten Island: 1967], pp. 242-3). ÷ ÷ ÷ Communion VOLUME 29~ 1970 673 4. 4. T. A. Krosnicki, $.V.D. REVIEW FOR ~ELIGIOUS power of God and the authority of Peter. Agapitus turned im-mediately to prayer, and so began the celebration of Mass, offering the holy Sacrifice to almighty God. As he left the altar after the Mass, he took the lame man by the hand and, in the presence of a large crowd of onlookers, raised him from the ground till he stood erect. When he placed the Lord's Body in his mouth, the tongue which had so long been speechless was loosed.= It would be difficult to conclude from this one example that this was the common practice of the time, for it is known that on occasion the Eucharist was applied to parts of the body as a form of sanctification of the senses or as a cure.an Agapitus might have preferred in this incident to place the Eucharist on the tongue of the invalid since, as Gregory relates, the man Was mute. Gregory also notes: "When he placed the Lord's Body in his mouth, the tongue which had for so long been speechless was loosed." In the eighth century writings of Bede (d. 735) we come across another example of hand reception of communion. Describing the death of a brother, he writes in his Ecclesiastical History: When they had lain down there, and had been conversing happily and pleasantly for some time with those that were in the house before, and it was now past midnight, he asked them, whether they had the Eucharist within? They answered, 'What need of the Eucharist? For you are not yet appointed to die, since you talk so merrily with us, as if you were in good health.' 'Nevertheless,' said he, 'bring me the Eucharist.' Having re-ceived It into his hand, he asked whether they were all in charity with him, and had no complaint against him, nor any quarrel or grudge. They answered, that they were all in perfect charity with him, and free from all anger; and in their turn they asked him to be of the same mind towards them?' Periods'of Transition The transition from the reception of the Eucharist in the hand to that of the mouth as we know it today, seems to have begun at the end of the, eighth century and is allied to the change from leavened to unleavened bread. Alcuin of York (d. 804), the learned friend and counselor of Charles the Great, seems to have been the first to indicate the use of unleavened bread,is But even then, it is unclear whether he intended to state that the bread should be unleavened or merely indicates its usage. He does, however, clearly show that unleavened ~ Gregory the Great, Dialogue 3 (PL, v. 77, col. 224B; trans.: FC, v. 39, pp. 116-117. la Plus PARSCn, The Liturgy o[ the Mass (London: 1957), p. 23. 1T Bede, Ecclesiastical History of England IV, 24 (PL, v. 95, col. 214C-215A; trans.: A. M. Sellar, Bede's Ecclesiastical History o[ England [London: 1912], pp. 280-1). ~ R. Woolley, The Bread o/the Eucharist (London: 1913), p. 18. bread was used. Along with this change to unleavened bread came the introduction of the small round wafers which no longer required breaking or chewing.19 It seems that this fact influenced the change to mouth reception of the Eucharist as well. The use of the un-leavened bread with its capability of being more easily preserved became a matter of greater convenience. The Councils of Toledo and Chelsea show that there must have been some common irreverefices on the part of the clergy when using ordinary bread for the Eucharist. The best way to obviate such disrespect was to require a special bread, other than the everyday domestic type, for the celebration of the Eucharist3° Another reason for the change to unleavened bread was to forestall any confusion between the Eucharist and the common bread of the household. The change to mouth reception became a matter not only of practicality but also as the result of the misun-derstanding of the sacrality of the individual Christian. Due to the thinking of the times, the Christian was no longer considered worthy to touch the Body of the Lord with his hands.~1 With exaggerated sentiments of humility and unworthiness, the faithful received the Eucharist on their tongues. The eucharistic practice had also been influenced by the overemphasis on the divinity of Christ to the almost exclusion of his humanity. The mortal, sinful man dare not touch with his hands the all-holy, powerful God. All of this led to the point where by the ninth century hand Communion was no longer the practice. The Council of Rouen (878) explicitly condemns hand Communion reception on the part of the lalty.~ The tenth Ordo romanus, dating from the ninth century, describes mouth reception of communion not only for the laity but even for the subdeacon. Priests and deacons, after kissing the bishop, should receive the body of Christ from him in their hands, and communicate themselves at the left side of the altar. Subdeacons, however, after kissing the hand of the bishop, receive the body of Christ from him in the mouth.~ The eighth and the ninth centuries were then the 19James Megivern, Concomitance and Communion (Fribourg: 1963), p. 29. ~0 WOOLt.EY, The Bread, p. 21. ~a See K. Bihlmeyer and H. Tiichle, Kirchengeschichte, v. 2 (Pader-born: 1958), p. 120: "In this period [the Middle Ages] in order to avoid irreverences as much as possible, in place of bread to be broken, small wafers ('hostia,' 'oblata') were introduced. For the same reason the holy food was no longer placed in the hand of the faithful but directly into the mouth." m Council of Rouen (Mansi, v. 10, pp. 1199-1200). ~Andrieu, Les Ordines romani du Haut M~yen Age, v. 2 (Lou-vain: 1948) p. 361. ÷ ÷ ÷ Communion VOLUME 2% 1970 675 periods of transition from the hand to the mouth recep-tion of the Eucharist. For a time both methods must have been in use. Once again, we find ourselves in a similar period of transition. The mouth form of recep-tion is still the more common practice but no one can deny that the practice of hand reception is becoming even more common especially among smaller groups and at Masses celebrated for special occasions. From this brief and admittedly sketchy glance at his-tory, it can be readily seen that hand Communion is not really an innovation for .it seems to have been the ordinary manner of reception of the Eucharist for al-most eight hundred years. + ÷ ÷ T. A. Krosnlcki, S.V.D. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS EDWARD J. FARRELL Penance: Return of the Heart The theological literature on penance has been en-riched by writers of the stature of Karl Rahner, Bernard H~iring, and Charles Curran; and we have, as a result, an enlarged understanding of its significance for our own day. I do not propose to speak so much of theology as of experiences and to invite you to reflect with me and to think into the mystery of penance. I speak to you as an expert to my fellow experts, as an authority among fellow authorities, because each one of us is an authority on penance. We have long lived it and we cannot have lived so long and celebrated the mystery so frequently without in some way becoming experts, authorities, or at least persons with much experience. Living itself is an experience of penance. One thing is certain; penance is alive, and anything alive changes. One of our deepest hopes is that we cim change, be-cause penance is concerned with change--not the kind of change which we sometimes call spontaneous, which we can so easily speak of in words, but a change in a much deeper level of being and action. The sacrament of penance, or penance itself which we are experiencing today, has an aura of Spring about it. There are certain seasons, certain times, certain patterns to the Christian life even as there were in Christ's life; and we follow those patterns. Christ was buried. He arose. And the truths of Christ will not be unlike Himself. There are forgotten truths in our faith, in our life experiences which have been laid aside and buried. We can become so familiar with particular realities that we forget the language. Even our relationship with Christ can be diminished. But there is always a resur-rection, always a rising. They are like bulbs which lie bur.led and forgotten in winter's chill grip, but still are there, waiting, until, mysteriously, Spring comes and we discover them. There is an expectancy about Spring. ÷ ÷ ÷ i~.dwa~d J. Fartell is a stuff membe~ o~ 8a~ed ~ea~ 8emi-n~ y; 2701 Chicago Boulevard; Detroit; Mi~igan 48206. VOLUME 29, 1970 ÷ 4. l~. ]. Farrel~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 678 There is an expectancy about penance. It is a new dis-covery for each of us, something which we have not wholly experienced before and it is important that we understand the why of thii. Penance is ancient, yet ever new. There is a "today" even though we have had a "yesterday." There is in us always a newness and an aliveness. When we were young, when we were very small, we saw things in a particular way. Then we grew, grew up, de.veloped in many areas. There is, however, a certain stabilization that takes place; and if our growth did not in some way level out, we would be sixty, eighty, perhaps one hundred feet tall. Imagine the problems of the environment thenl In our early years we thought that when our physical growth had leveled off and stabilized that our growth was finished. Yet it had only begun. When we grew to a certain size perhaps we returned to the school where we once attended kindergarten and the first primary grades. The old neighborhood looked almost quaint. It looked so small because we had grown so large. This physical growth is a true growth; yet it is after we have achieved it that the real growth takes place, the growth of mind and heart and soul, by which we are led into and beyond the senses, into the arts, literature, history, philosophy, and faith. Even in our day of specialization, as one follows ever more deeply his specialization it becomes in some strange, little un-derstood way, narrower and narrower until at a mys-terious moment it opens into a wholly new horizon. At such a moment one is made aware that this universe is too vast for the mind to grasp. It is, then, in this experience that man slowly and painfully becomes little. It is then that he begins to acquire real knowledge, real humility, that he moves toward maturity. I think that we are on the edge of this kind of growth. No longer do we need the pride and arrogance of adolescence. This humility, or perhaps humiliation, has touched all of us. We become aware of an unsureness, the unsureness of maturity; we begin at last to know that we do not know and perhaps will never know all that we so much desire to know. A pro-found transformation, a growth, an evolution now takes place in us. Now we begin to discover truths which we really had never known, yet were there awaiting our discovery, our awakening to their being. We never knew them at all, we never saw them; they were there but we did not see them. We have heard about these ideas, con-cepts, truths, perhaps even talked about them. Now, however, in this new experience we have no word, no thought, no concept, perhaps not even a theology. Now we become much more people of experienced awareness and all must be initialed with our initial and be ours in our unique w~y; otherwise, we belong to no one, nor do the truths belong to us. We begin to know ourselves in a new context of spiritual knowledge. I think this experience is true especially of the mysteries of Christ, the mystery of the Church-~which is essentially mystery--the mystery of penance, the mystery of celi-bacy; and the mystery of human action, the mystery of your act and of my act. When we do something, it is irreversible. We never can step back and undo it. .There is an act which we call a promise and that act nails down the future. It is an absurdity because who can speak for his future; and yet a promise is possible and is perhaps the most significant act a person makes; for we know, even as we make the act, that it is unpredictable; even beyond that, any act has an ano-nymity in its effect. We do not know what effect it will have, how long it will endure, what changes it will create. Humanly speaking, the past, the future, even the present are so much not in our grasp. Yet in all of our acts the mystery of Christ speaks to each one of these realities. He speaks to tile events of the past, reversing what we have done in the act of forgiveness and of penance, in the act of promise in the future which is involved in the penance, the metanoia, the change that we are seeking. The Gospel very simply summarizes Christ's begin-ning: "The time is fulfilled, the kingdom is at hand. Repent, believe in the gospel." How ancient those words are and how new; yet who has heard them? Who has heard them and put them to life? This says something about the mystery of Christ to us and the mystery of His Church which can never be separated from Him. To think of the Church without Christ is to miss the mystery of both. So we move in this deep awareness into the inwardness of Christian mystery, into a knowing, into, finally, a .meaning of penance. And penance, what is it? It is a hunger, a hunger for change; it is a hunger for newness, a hunger for life, for growth; it is a hunger for wholeness and holiness; it is a hunger for experience. Most of all, I think, it is a hunger for being with and to and for. It is a relation-ship that is being sought. It is a togetherness. It is profoundly significant that the command of Christ was: "Repent." Why did He not begin with Eucharist? Is the Eucharist not enough? Was it enough for Christ? He began with: "Repent"; He concluded with Eucha-rist. It is interesting to recall the briefly recorded con-versations of Christ with His Disciples. One day our ÷ ÷ ÷ VOLUME 29, 1970 6'79 ÷ ÷ ÷ ~. ]. Farrell REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 680 Lord asked them: "Who do you say I am?" They are always interesting, both the questions of Christ and the commands of Christ, because they are so personal, be-cause they are asked directly of us throughout the whole of our life, and because these are the call He gives to us. He asked: "Who do you say I am?" To answer for the whole group, one volunteered--Peter, and he called back who he was. At the end of our Lord's mission, after the resurrection, He spoke to Peter again but this time He spoke his name: "Simon Peter, do you love me?"--not once, not twice, but three times. By name, He called him out by namel "Simon Peter, do you love me?" and as a consequence of Peter's answer, He gave another command. He said: "Feed, feed my sheep"- strengthen your brethren. Long ago you all made profession and how many times have you made confession since? What is the re-lationship between profession--confession? You cannot find it in the dictionary, but I think there is a very necessary correlation between profession and confes-sion. Peter's profession of faith and Peter's confession of love--this is what penance is all about. Really, sin is a very secondary thing.'Sin is unimportant to Christ. Penance is about a change, a change in our capacity to love. You made your final profession in words and we are all moving toward our final confession. Each one of us has his own history of penance. Just imagine trying to go over your confessions the last year or five years or ten years; imagine forty years of confessions, and how many confessions have yet to be made? Confession: we know the confessions of Jeremiah in the Old Testament, about the mirabilia Dei, the wonder-ful things of God; the confessions of St. Augustine have disappointed many a reader who was looking for true confessions and there is so little there---eating a few pears, an illegitimate child. Really all he is talking about is the first extraordinary discovery and the ongoing discovery of the love of God for him and the power it effected in him. This is why we can speak of his con-fessions. Penance is first of all a confession, a song of praise to God. How unfortunate we are. We so often have said and perhaps still do say: "I cannot find any-thing to confess." Well, even if we did, it would be merely a partial confession because the first thing about penance is to find something, to find the love that one has received, to sing about it, to confess it. Penance is first of all an act of prayer and of worship, of thanks-giving, a recognition, a discovering of the wonderful love of God for us. But that is only part of it because it is only in the strength of this love that there can be sin. If one has not yet tasted or seen or felt something of the love of God, then he cannot sin because sin is cor-relative to love, and there cannot be any sin except in the context of love because sin does not exist except in the non-response to love. Penance is a discovery of what love is and what it is to love. A sister once commented: "In our community there are so many, almost everyone, who are ready to forgive. There is so much forgiveness but there is no one who can confess her need for forgiveness." It is so easy to forgive. Did anyone ever confront you with the words: "I forgive you"? Have you ever been forgiven by another person, a second or third or fourth or twentieth time. The words, "I forgive," do not make any difference. You can come to me and tell me you are sorry and I can say I am sorry, too--about the book you lost or about the car that got dented, but that does not change. You can tell me you are sorry about the way you got angry and what you called me, and I can say, "I forgive you," but what happens when we say that word? Can we forgive? When we say, "I forgive," we are not talking about the action of God, we are not talking about the grace of Christ or the word of the Church; we are saying: "I am trying not to respond to you as you deserve." That is what we ordinarily mean, and implicitly, there is a warning, "Do not let it happen again," because when it does happen again, we remind them: "How many times?" Forgiveness? There are not many of us who are capable of forgiveness. There is no one of us who is capable of forgiveness in the sense that God forgives and Christ forgives, because when Christ forgives, He is not saying He is not going to respond to us as we de-serve but He reaches into us, to the very roots of that which makes us the irascible persons we are. He does something if we let Him, if we are ready to be healed, to be touched, and to be cured. No person can forgive sin. We can empathize with people, we can say we are sorry that they are the miserable creatures they are, but we cannot change them unless we have the capacity to love them with the love of Christ. Otherwise they are untouched by our forgiveness and this is why there is a need and a hunger to be freed from our incapacity to love and not simply to be excused and accepted and remain unchanged. In the great mystery of Christ's death and resurrection it is the sacrament of penance that enables us in some way to get in touch with Him because without getting in touch with Him we cannot do His work. There is a strange misunderstanding in those who feel that the Eucharist is enough, that they can ignore our Lord's call to repent and forget our Lord's suffering and death. It is as if in some way I can forgive myself, can just ÷ ÷ ÷ VOLUME 29, 1970 681 4. 4. E. ]. Farreli REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 682 tell Him I am sorry or we can tell one another: "I forgive you, forget about it." In our non-response to love, our inability to love we experience the fact that we cannot heal, that we do not cnre. As someone said, it is not so much that the community or Church' has hurt them, but it has not healed them and that is why they can no longer suffer in this way. It is a partial truth, perhaps, but it is a truth. So often w~ cannot put this need for healing into words but we do expect, we do expect something. Some of our older brethren in Christ are not, I think, too far off in their intuition about the relationship between penance and Eucharist, pen-ance and community; and I think I would say that there is a correlation between the diminishment irl the cele-bration and experience of penance and the diminish-merit in community. The sacrament, the life of penance which is but the life of Christ lived out continually, is the most personal of all the sacraments, the most intense and, therefore, the most difficult. Perhaps it is the last sacrament we are ready for because it demands so much of us; it demands such maturity, it demands such a capacity to suffer, the most terrible kind of suffering, to really learn who we are, and we will do anything to escape that kind of suffering, that kind of anguish. Who of us is really ready to face the living God? There is so much we do in our life to prevent this happening. We talk a good faith, we even have many theologies, b~t who of us really wants to know himself as the Lord knows him? We do not have many temptations. It is the saints who are the primary witnesses to faith, not the theologians who are the primary witnesses--the saints, unlettered, undoctoral but primary witnesses to love. We do not get tempted too often to express our sorrow in the dramatic gesture perhaps of a Mary Magdalen. We do not to6 often weep over our sins, prostrate our-selves before the Eucharist or the Christian community and confess what we are. We have forgotten and per-haps at times we do not even have the capacity any longer because it has been so underexercised. Yet the life of Christ and the reality of man speak out, and we find an extraordinary emergence today from beyond those who are called to give public witness to the mystery of Christ. We find the phenomena of penance and confession and public confession in those "outside." We see it in Alcoholics Anonymous, we see it in Syna-non groups, in sensitivity groups, encounter groups, where the first thing persofis do is to repent, to bare their souls on the guts level and expose who they are. It is an extraordinary experience to experience our poverty and our honesty and in so many ways our nothingness and it gives a kind kind of game can ever give us. It who are or who have been in a there are no games left any more real. We see this, and perhaps l-IS. of freedom which no is something like those mental hospital where and all they can be is it say~ something to The Lord does not accuse us, the Lord does not call to mind our sins: we are the only ones that remember them. The Lord simply asks us again and again: "Do you love me?" Today one is often questioned on the frequency of confession. Should religious go every week to confession?. I think it is very important to see the sacrament of penance in terms of the totality of the Christian life; it is not something that can have its significance only in isolation and only in terms of sin. There was a valid aspect, I think, to the intuition and practice of the Church in encouraging and calling her priests and re-ligious to confession regularly and I am sure it was not so much in terms of their need for absolution from sin but more in terms of confession of the praise of God, and for a deeper understanding of how priests and religious in a special way are the most highly visible embodiment of the Body of Christ. There was an extraordinary article in Time maga-zine in February on environment and I would certainly commend it to your spiritual reading. In this article some experts say that we have so interfered with the ecological system of the world that it is irreversible and human life cannot continue on this planet beyond 200 years. This was just a small portion of the article but it drove home" the reality that the smallest atom has a history, has an effect that goes so far beyond itself that it is almost incalculable what any act of ours can do. I think it speaks so strongly, about the mystery of human community and how we affect one another not only for a moment but have an ongoing effect; and that nothing is really lost. It speaks so strongly to the awareness we must carry within ourselves of the responsibility Christ took upon Himself for the whole world and for the sin and inability and absence of love in so many. It speaks to the fact that to follow Christ's likeness we, too, must be totally concerned with the conversion and transformation of people and where there is not love, to put love. When religious or priests go to confession, they go first of all to recognize that they are sinners and no one of us gets beyond that basic fact--that we are sinners even though saved. The remarkable thing in the testimony and history of the saints is that the more one grows in his experience of the love of Christ, the more ÷ ÷ ÷ Penance VOLUME 29, 1970 ÷ ÷ E. ]. Farrell REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 684 he realizes how much this love is absent in himself and he is drawn to the sacrament of penance out of his life experience; not from some external "you ought to" or "you should," but because it becomes more and more a need. There is a hunger for it which cannot be satisfied by anything less except being plunged into this mystery of Christ. St. Catherine of Siena spoke so deeply of this mystery in words that sound strange and rather strong to us-- "Being washed in the blood of Christ." But at the same time, these are words that are deeply Scriptural--Isaian --the Suffering Servant--the mystery of the blood of Christ. We need to be. deeply penetrated with them. We need to be aware that when we go to confession, which is a profession of faith, a confession of love, and a deep experience of a need to be touched by Christ and to be transformed by Him, sgmething takes place even though there is no way of validating it in terms of a pragmatic principle. It does not make a difference. ~¥hy bother? We cannot measure it on the yday to day level just as life cannot be measured on that particular level. There are movements within ourselves that per-haps take a long time before they can make their mani-festation in our nervous system, on the tip of our fingers. When we go to confession we need to be aware that a whole community is involved, not just a par-ticular house but everyone who is in our lives. We can pick up the paper and read about the crime and the violence, especially to the young and the old, and the helpless, the war, and unemployment, and we can read it and so what? It does not seem to enter into the very life that we are living. We are called to be that Suffering Servant and to make up in ourselves what is lacking in others, to in some way experience what Paul experienced. When someone was tempted, he, himself, felt the fire o{ it; when someone was sick, he, himself, experienced it--that deep interpenetration of all these people involved in Christ. So, when one goes to the sacrament of penance, it is for one's own sins-- the incapacity, the inability to love, missing the mark so often, but it is also in terms of the sins of others. Christ's whole life was this life of penance. Religious living is and has to be a following in this life of penance, this ongoing change, this ongoing conversion. One of the problems of frequent confession is the confessor. I think we are all caught .in this together. Our theology is usually behind our experience, and there are many priests who have had great difficulty in finding confessors themselves. I do not think there is more than one in thirty priests who has a confessor, has a spiritual director; and there has been a great impoverishment because we have not recognized nor developed this charism. I do think there is a special apostolate that the Christian and especially the relig

Issue 2.3 of the Review for Religious, 1943. ; A.-M. D. G. for Religious MAY 15, 1943 Paternal Governm~eh÷ . . . ; . . J~hn C.~Ford The Mother of God . - . . AIoydus C. Kemper Cell'Technlque of Catholic Act,on . '."Albert S. Foley Thb Seal of Confession , = Edwin F. Healy Summary on Spiri÷u&l Direc'÷ion . The Edffo.rs; Book Revlew~, Ques÷io. ns Answered Decisions of the Holy See RIEVI.I::W FOR RI::LIGIOUS ¯ VOLUME II MAY 15, 1943 NUMBER 3 CONTENT.S PATERNAL GO~rERNMENT AND FILIAL CONFIDENCE °IN SUPERIORSmJohn C. Ford, S.J. 146 THE MOTHER OF GOD~A. loysius C. Kemper, S.J . 15'; THE CELL TECHNIQUE OF SPECIALIZED CATHOLIC ACTION-- Albert S. Foley, S.3 . 164 DIVINE' PROVIDENCE AND RELIGIOUS INSTITUTES . 175 THE SEAL OF CONFESSION-~Edwin F. Healy, S.'J . 176 -THE DISCUSSION ON SPIRITUAL DIRECTION: Concluding Survey-- The Editors . 187 DECISIONS OF THE HOLY SEE . 202 BOOK REVIEWS (Edited by Clement DeMuth, S.J.)-- Moral Guidance; The Path of Humility; St. Charles Borromeo; The °King's Advocate; 3esus and I; The Larks of Umbria; The Better Life: For Heaven's Sake; We Wish to See 'jesus; The Following of Christ; His Father's Business; National Liturgical Week, 1942; Shinihg in Darkness . °2 . . 203 BOOKS RECEIVED . 211 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 17. Retreat Master as Exrtaordinary Confessor . 212 18. Reason for Removing Local Superior . 212 19. Postulant M.D. Prescribing for Community . 212 20. Public and Private Recitation of Litanies . 213 21. Providing for Sister Who Leaves Community . 214 22. Taxing for Support of Motherhouse . . " . 214 23. Pension for Work Done before Entering Religion . 216 24. Little Office with Blessed Sacrament Exposed . . . . . . 216 -25. Mistress of Novices Subject to Local Superior . 216 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, May, 1943. Vol. II, No. 3. Published bi-monthly: 3~anuary, 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 3anuary 15, 1942, at the Post Office, Tgpeka, Kansas~ under the act of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Adam C, Ellis, S.3., G. Augustine Ellatd, S.,J., Gerald Kelly, S.J. Copyrlght~ 1943, by Adam C. Ellis. Permission is hereby granted for quotations of reasonable length, provided due credit be given ,this review and the author. Subscription price: 2 dollars a year. Printed it~.U.S.A. Pa!:ernal overnment: .\, and Filial ConFidence in Superiors John C. For.d, S.J. IT IS SAID that soldiers are notorlo s gnpers. The February (1943) issue of the Infantr'g'dournal, in an article called ':Leadership," offers us a selected batch of confidentially treated opinions on officers, expressed by a number of soldiers early in the war. These are quoted .word for Word. "This army can't be driven; it must be led." "Break up the old army non-corn clique and put advancement on a merit basis." "Officers ibluff too much.". ~"Let non=coms be chosen for what they know, not .whom they know." "Our first lieutenant is dominated by the first sergeant." "No reward for good work; old soldiers learn never to .volunteer for anything." "They treat us like children." "When an officer tell~ his men he doesn't like'the army any more than we do, he's not the one I look to. ". instead of'changing his mind every few minutes." ". should take a little interest in what we eat." ". give us some idea of what's going on in maneu-vers. "We come from just as good or better families . say a good word now and then . call a man by his name . show a man they know their stuff." ".shames us in front of other batteries." I am not goin.g to ask the readers whether they have ~ever heard any complaints like these made about religious 146 PATERNAL ~OVERNMENT superiors. And I am notgbing toask them to make a com-parison between, the faults of army leaders and the faults of religious superiors. -That would be too easy. Everyone knows that superiors, being human, have faults. And .besides, anyone °with sense knows, that when people com-plain, whether about superiors or about others, the real rea-sons for the complaints are often not expressed at all. The complaint is merely a symptom of some deeper discontent. , But I am going to ask the readers to meditate on the above rdmarksone at a time. And I suggest that they ask themselves this question: I~ you were a religious superior what would be youf correspbnding complaint about sub-jects? --- or your answer to subjects' complaints on these headings? For instance, "This army can't be driven: it must be led." If you were a superior would you be t~mpted to say, perhaps, "This particular religious can't be led; he has to be pushed'i? Go through all the complaihts that way. I need not do it-for you. It will be instructive for you to make the trial yourself. It is alw~iys instructive to put oneself in .someone else's shoes, and try to get his point of view. And in this par-ticular instance I think most of my readers will find that it is rather difficult (unless they are or have been superiors) to "look at things from that other point of view. They may have to force themselves to look carefully at the reverse.side of the picture. La~'k ot: Contider~ce a Fact " ' And that brings me to my main p0inti, the unfortunate ~fact that superiors and subjects so often seem to have a dif-~ ferent "point of view." It is to be expected, of course, even' in the most ideal state of affairs, that between the governing and the governed there must necessarily be dii~erences of attitude. But in a religious congregation these differences 147 JOHN C, FORD should be at a minimum. All the members of the religious family are presumably aiming at the same target. Whether. they are superiors or subjects the general goal is the same. /kll are looking primarily, to a sfipernatural end andS under the rules of the particular organization, work from the same. s.upernatural motives for its attainment. The pursuit of perfection in work or in prayer, according to' the spirit of the institute, and finally the perfect love of our Lord are the common aim of all who live in religion. A religious congregation is called a "family" tradi-tionally, and in canon law, because it is supposed to have those characteristics of loving unity which a well-ordered family exhibits. When it is said (for instance in canon 530) that it is good for subjects to go to their .superiors with "filial .confidence," the words really mean what they say. The Code is calling attention toone of the basic reali-ties of religious life. The order or congregation is a family." Superiors should be as fathers to their subjects, and subjects should have corresponding filial confidence in them. (Of course, the word '~'filial" has a wide range of meaning, and the attitude of an eighty-year old veteran to his forty-year old superior is not going to be filial in the same way as that of a young religious.) But it is not too much to say that this confidence is fre-quently lacking. Is it not a fact that superiors and subjects, instead of regarding one another in this paternal or filial vcay, actually, at times, think of one another as being on opposite sides? Is not the "point of view" so different that,. forgetful for the time being of the unity of their general supernatural aims, they regard each other almost as oppon-ents? The little exercise suggested above was meant to bring out (if it needs to-be brought out) the fact that this attitude of opposition sometimes exists. If it does not exist in your mind (whether you are a superior or a subject), so 148 PATERNAL GOVERNMENT much the better. But .I think it exists in only too many minds. - The supposition of the present article, therefoie (and perhaps others along the same lines will follow it), is that there is a deplorable lack of filial confidence in superiors ¯ amongst many religious. My object is to indicate what [ Considerto be some of the,causes of this undesirable state of affairs. Some of the causes are inevitable, and are insepa-rable~ as hinted ahoy.e, from tl~e very idea of distinguishing between governing and go-~erned. But others are due to false or distorted ideas about religious government, and these can be corrected. These false or distorted ideas .are enter-tained at tim~s both by superiors and by. subjects. My purpose is to point them out, with the hope that a correc-tion of them will help to restore that filial.confidence which .ought to be part of religious life. The Forgotten "'Paternal For:urn'" The first point on which there seems to be widespread ignorance, or at least many false ideas, is the very .real dis-tinction which exists between the paternal and j~dicial forum in retigio~s government. (What I say here applies equally to the ."maternal" forum where religious women are concerned, and when ~I speak of the "judicial" forum [ do not mean judicial in the strict canonical sense--with a view to formal accusation and a trial, and so forth but in a broader sense, as will appear,) In one sense all re.ligious government should be pater-nal. Paternal in this sense means spi'rituai, Christian, reli-gious government,, as opposed to worldly,, or domineering, or military, or political .government. Whether superi.ors are acting for the direction of individuals, or with a view to correcting their faults, or'punishing, or with a view to the common good of the. congregation;'their government is 149 ¯ JOHN C. FORD, always supposed, to be paternal in this general .sense. But in a more particular sense a superior is said to act paternally, or in the paternal forum, to distinguish his office as a father from his office as a judge. This distinction is of special importance when the superior acts to correct the faults or delinquencies of his subjects. For, in the correction and punishment of delinquencies, the superior may proceed either paternally or judicially. To illustrate the difference in the two procedures per-haps the following examples will help. Suppose the supe-rior has it brought~ to his attention tl~at some of the younger religious, who are not allowed to smoke, are occasionally smoking without permission. He calls in these religious, tells them what he has heard, and, without making any particu-lar accfisations, reminds them of the regulation which for-bids smoking, or forbids smoking without permission. Suppose that afterwards he asks one of these young reli-gious: "Were you one of the offenders?"--and the answer is "Yes." Thereupon, he urges the offender to be faithful in his observance of the rules and imposes some private pen-ance upon him in order to impress on his mind the impor: tance of regular observance. It seems to me that in this sort ofcase the superior is obviously acting as a father and not as a judge. The matter is being handled in the paternal forum. But suppose the' superior calls in another Leligious who has previously been warned about a faul,t or delinquency of a still more serious kind. And let us suppose that he has been previously warned that future lapses will involve seriofis punishment--postpo~nement of final vows, post-ponement of ordination, or even dismissal from the con-gregation. And to make the case a perfectly clear one, sup-pose that the delinquency involves an external matter which may. give scandal to the faithful or threaten the good" 150 ¯ PATERNAL GOVERNMENT of the institute itselfmfor i.ns.tance, excessive drinking, or familiarity with the opposite sex, or a professed attempt to undermine the authority of.the institute: The superior Says to this religious, "You have been accused again of iuch and such a delinquency. Before proceeding further with this matter I should like to hear what defense you ha~ce to make." Is there any. doubt.that in such a case the superior is acting as a°judge rather than as a father? We say com~ monly that he is acting "in the external forum." For that reason he deals with the subject at arm's le.ngth, as the law-yers say, and he does not expect fromhim the same degree of candor which he could claim if he were acting in the pater, hal forum. ~ It would.be a failure to rate'the facts and implications in such a case if we were to say that the superior is not pro-ceeding judicially merely because he is not.following thd formalities of the canonical judicial.process. For .when a superior sets out to gather, evidence with a view to i.nflicting serious punishment, especially if it be public, and most of all if it be expulsion from the. orgafiizaf!on; it.wouldbe.an abuse, of l~inguage to call the procedure paternal. Hence,. I t~ink no one Will doubt that, even when there is no question of a rea~l trial in the canonical sense, there is a quasi-judicial procedure which differs substantially from the merely paternal. " Classic Authors on the Paternal Forum The distinction between these two functions of the superior, that of father and that of judge, is a fundamenthl one; and it is particularly.important that it be kept in mind, when.a superiok questions his subjects with.'a-view to the correction of faults. It is not a new distinction.~, The classic authors on the religious life (Suarez, de Lugo, and others) make much of it in explaining the duty of frateri~al 151 JOHN C~ FORD " " or evangelical denunciation ~ith reference to r~ligious. " Neverthelem, even under ideal conditions and in cases where this fundamental distinction between paternal and judicial procedure is well understood, it is sometimes hard ¯ to tell whether.a superior who questions a subject is acting in a paternal or a judidial capacity. Some cases are on the border and it is hard to draw the line. From' reading the authors who have treated these matters, especially Suarez, it seems to me that the only satisfactory general criterion whether the superior is acting paternally or judicially is the purpoge of his proceedings. If he is acting principatlg for the good of the delinquent, in order to have him amend his fault, then he is acting as a father, even though as a means to this end some penance is imposed (or: a private nature), or some remedy is used which is repugnant to the subject, for example, a change of appointment. But if he acts principallg forthe good of the congregation, the common good, and seeks to inflict punishment as a vindication of ~religious disci151ine which has been violated, especially if the punishment is public, or if the idea i's to make an example of someone, and most of all if the punishment in question is expulsion in such cases he is acting as a judge. A Cause of Mutual Distrust Am I wrong in s~ying that both superiorsand subjects often lose sight of this fundamental principle of religious government? And am I wrong in the opinion that one of the fundamental causes for lack of filial confidence in supe-riors is the neglect of this distinction? Subjects expect superiors to act in a fatherly way when their duty as guardians of the public good requires that they proceed judicially. Or subjects feel that they have not been treated paternally when, without detriment to their reputation, the superior has changed their work or their 152 PATERNAL GOVERNMENT place-of work for °their own good but in a way that is displeasing'to them. They forget that it is part of a father's duty to administer medicine evenif it has ~ bad taste. Superiors sometimes forget that information received in the paternal forum, whether from the subject concerned or from another, cannot ordinari1~ be used judicially, and never to the detriment of the public standing of the subject within the community. If the superior does act judicially on knowledge which he has received paternally, the confi-dence of his subjects Will be utterly destroyed. For when dealing with him they will .never know for sure whether they are speaking to him as a father to whom as religious children they owe special filial candor, and whom they carl trust to keep their revelations in the paternal forfim, or whether they are speaking to him .in his more public capac-ity as guardian of the cQmmon good, so that whatever they say can, as it were, be used against them. The distinction between the paternal and judicial forum, as far as self-revelation and the correction of faults is concerned, has its roots in the natural law itself. A child who is asked by his mother Whether he stole the jam is bound to tell the truth even if he foresees a spanking. But the man who is asked by a judge whether he is guilty or.not guilty is not bound to betray himself. Religious generally agree, on entering religion, that those who notice their faults may reveal them to the superior as to a father, ,but they do not give up their right to reputation as far as others (whatever' their position) are concerned. They do not agree that fraternal, manifestations or their own self-revelations be made the basis of public repiehension. Human nature being what it is, the axiom, "No one is bound to betray himself" (that is, in a judicial proceeding), appeals very strongly to everyone who gets into trouble. If the result of self-revelation is going to be postponement of 153" JOHN C. FOP, D ordination or of vows, or.a defamatory public reprehension, all but the heroes will be convinced (and rightly) that they are under no obligation to speak. (I exclude here, of course, ~efects so serious that they. impose upon an indi- .vidual the obligation of not going on to the.priestho9d~.) BUt the heroes do not get into trouble. As for the others, there is no doubt that if the private fault of a religiou~,- whether venialiy sinful or not, is known to the superior only as a father, and to a few others, he has no right to pub-lish the matter. A public announcement of it by way of punishment can easily involve a serious violation of the natural law of reputation. A superior's position, then, is a very difficult and very burdensome one. TO play the double role, of father and of judge, prudently, calls for wisdom and:'selflessness in a high degree. It.is quite apparent that the Code has done much to eliminate the confusion between the forum of con~ science and the forum of external government by forbidding superi.ors to be the regular confessors of their subjects, or to hear their manifestations of conscience as a ~atter of rule. But the Code has certainly not abolished the time-honored, essential distinction between the office of father and the office of judge. The present article is meant to recall to mind that dis-tinction, as a means of restoring filial confidence. Naturally speaking, the attempt" can never be completely successful. .Only education to it from the earliest days of religious life can makeit moderately successful, perhaps a future article or two will dwell on some,practical applications of the doc-trine as connected with the obligation of fraternal denuncia-tion, and the custom, where it exists, of manifesting the con-science to a greater or-less degree to the superior. Cofifi~ dences received in these circumstances call for more than ordinary virtue and restraint on the part of superiors, if' 154 they wish to keep their,subjects from distrusting them. And ~ubje'cts will not undertake these onerous duties or practices unless the~, are led by a truly religious desire for their own perfection. In fact, the whole matter is not worth the trouble of discussion excelbt in the case of.religious, both subjects and superiors, who seriously seek the things of God, and who deeply yearn to giv~e themselves entirely to Himmas a man gives himself to the one woman he loves. They must be prepared to spurn worldly principles in order to follow in the footsteps of the humble and humiliated Christ. He was not touchy about His rights. "Mine and thine, those frigid words" (St. Chrysostom), were not a part of His vocabu-lary. [EDITORS' NOTE: Father Ford is interested in the further develop-ment of the subject of filial confidence in superiors, if time permits it. ~With a view to makin_g tentative future articles as helpful as possible, he would welcome communications, even anonymous ones, on the subje~t. Needless to say, the communications would be treated con-fidentially. Our readers, both superiors and subjects, who are inter-ested in this matter, are invited to send their suggestions directly to: The Reverend 3ohn C. Ford, S.J., Weston College, Weston, Mass.] CHANGES OF ADDRESS If you change your address, either temporarily for the summer, or permariently because of a new assignment, you can assure yourself of the prompt and safe delivery ' of the Ju_ly number (and subsequent numbers) by sending us a postcard with answers to these three questions: 1. What is ~our present address? 2. What is your new address? 3. Is the change to be merely for the summer or permanent? Please send the card as soon as possible. The Mot:her of: ,od Aloysius C.Kemper, S.J. DURING the month of May our Blessed Mother is daily proclaimed the Mother of God by millions of voices, ¯ old and young. Over the face of the whole earth, whene*er the Hail Mary is said, and in numerous other prayers and canticles, in public service and private devotion, that glorious title, "Mother of God," rings out in her praise. It is a title we have all learnt to love and to use instinctively from our earliest years. Times without number it rises to our lips, often perhaps without due appre~ciation of its pro-found meaning, but never with the shadow of a doubt that we actually mean what we say when we style the Virgin, "Mother of God." Despite the familiarity of this beloved title, it is amazing, sometimes amusing, to note the puzzled air that steals over the countenance of the average instructed Cath-olic when he is confronte.d with the question, uttered as a challenge: "Do you really mean exactly what you say when you call Mary the Mother of God? Think of it: the eternal, uncreated God, having a mother who brought -Him into the world on a definite historical date, not so many centuries ago! Does it not seem highly preposter-ous if you take it in its strict sense? You cannot possibly mean it .just that way. It must be merely an honorary title you are giving to the Blessed Virgin; for, of course, God could not reatlg have a mother." A test question of this sort is apt completely to baffle the examinee who. appreciates the difficulty and searches desperately for a justification of a title as familiar to him as his own name, while he keeps muttering to himself the disconcerting. refrain, "Of course, God could not reall~ have a mother." THE "MOTHER OF GOD Let us not imagine that such searching inquiry into: the. implications of Mary's most familiar, title, is .merely"a pleasant diversion employed to test the average catecheti-cal. mind. Tb~ challenge was seriously throv~n out by master thinkers in the early Christian centuries who were tampering with the full significance of the Incarnation, and who-persistently denied that God could have.a mother. that bore Him. Thus, in the early fifth century Theodore of Mopsuestia proposed the following argu-ment concerni.ng the divine maternity: "When you ask me whether Mary is man-bearing or God-bearing, I must in .truth reply that she is both; she is the bearer of man a~cording to nature, for it was a man who existed in her womb and was brought forth by Mary; she is likewise the bearer of God, because in the man engendered by her God dwelt, not as though circumsc~:ibed by that human nature, but as present in it according to the decree and affection of His will." Drawing the blunt conclusion from Such premises, he added: "It is absurd to say that the Word consubstantial with the Father is born of the Vir-gin Mary. The one who is born of the Virgin is the indi-vidual who was formed from her substance, . not the Word who is God. He who is consubstantial with the Father has no mother at all." Nestorius, the most notorious heresiarch of the same period, promptly tried to popularize this. false teaching by employing the more telling weapon of ridicule. In his cathedral at Constantinople he ordered a sermon preached by one of the clergy in which the divine maternity of Mary was denied. When a tumult arose in the church at this audacious assault'on the honor of God's Mother, Nesto-rius himself arose to reply and calm the exaspe'rated con-gregation: "The question is frequently put to us," he slyly remarked, "whether Mary should be called Mother 157 ~LOYSIUS C. KEMP~R of God or Mother of a man. Tell me, I pray you, has God a mother? If so, then we may well excuse the pagans for.claiming mothers for their gods. No, no, my dear people, Mary did not bear God." This seems~ to have been the first public profession of the Nestorian heresy: to deny the divine maternity of Mary was an implicit denial of the mystery of the Incarnation itself. " At first sight the objection contained in the Nestorian position may appear serious. But it is a valid objection only on the assumption that in the Incarnation God did not become man, but that there were two distinct persons after the union--God, the Word, Son of the Father, and the man born of the Virgin Mary. Pointing to the Child Jesus, Nestorius would say: "This one is the offspring of Mary, a man like ourselves, truly her Son and Child. The other one, the Word of God, who dwells in this man as in His special temple, was not born of Mary but from eternity pioceeded from the Father by divine generation." He could never be prevailed on to admit and to believe with the whole Church that the Infant born in Bethlehem is truly God made man, and that consequently there can be no possible distinction between "this one" and "that one," as between two persons. His doctrine was condemned by the Church as an execrable heresy. The common people themselves, with a correct sense of the truth, raised an out-cry against the blasphemy that Mary is not the M6ther ~f God; and later when the decree of the Council of Ephesus solemnly proclaimed the divine maternity of Mary their joy and exultationknew no bounds. The title of "Mother of God," applied to the Blessed Virgin, is justified by the following simple reasoning, plain to any child: "Mary is the Mother of Jesus. But ~lesus is truly God. Therefore Mary is the Mother of God." The syllogism thus enunciated contains one asset- .158 tion requiring :further proof or explanation. That Mary .is the Mother.of 2esus no one no.wadays would be inclined to call in question. The modern mind is quite at ease in admitting the historical evidence which vouches for the mother of this man ~lesus, who was born, li(red and died, whose story is,known from the Gospels. However, after tl"Je appearance of the Nestorian i pet-version, of Christ's identity, the second premise of the syl-logism that 3esus is truly God has been doubted or denied by countless bearers of the Christian name. On the. undi-luted truth of this second proposition depends the veracity of Mary's divine motherhood.Unless the Child ~he bor~ is truly and unequivocally God .then quite, i~at,urally neither is she the Mother of God. . . We need not prove the divinity of 3esus .here .but may take it over from the faith of the Church as a dogma ,so fundamental that the very name and substance of our religion would disappear if it were denied. As the Nicene Creed declares:. '.'I believe . . . in one Lord 3esus Christ, the only begotten Son of God', born'of the' Father before all ages., true God of true God. c?nsubstantial with the Father . who for us. men, and for our salvation, came down from heaven and was incarnate .by the Holy Ghost of the VirginMary; and was made man.'-.'. . : These words, of the Creed make it clear.that Christ had two natures, one the divine Which He received, from all et.ernity from the Father, so, that He was "born of the Father". and~ of the same substance with Him. Neverthe-less. this same Son was also born of His~ earthly, Mother from whom He received a human nature, a second nature. added to. the one already His from all eternity. It follows then that God ~he Son was twice born, the natural Son of His heavenly Father, the natural .Son of ,His earthly Mother: in either case the same one, the same individual~ 159 'ALOY$1US C. KEMPER the same divine Person. Could anything be more pl~iinly stated in our creed, or more lucid!y dear from the Gospel narrative than the fact that the whole story, from divine, eternal birth to temporal death and resurrection, is the story of one and the same Person, whether you .designate Him by His divine or His human names, God, Son of God, the Word; Christ, 3esus, or even simply "this man"? It will aid in unravelling subtle difficulties and objec-tions that lurk in many a mind in regard to this doctrine to enumerate in catechetical fashion, what we do not say about the Blessed Mother, and what we do say, regarding her divine maternity. 1. We do not say that the Son of God whom Mary bore did not exist before His earthly birth. This latter is His s.econd birth. By generation from the Father He existed from all eternity. It would be plainly absurd to assert that a woman brought God into His first existence, as though she had made God to be, and there would be no God without her maternal activity. Nestorius wa~ not ashamed to hurl the'accusation at his hearers: "You have Mary make God by calling her the Mother of God." Mary did not make God to be, bu~ she did make God to be man. That He is man is due to her maternal activity, aided by . the over-shadowing of the Holy Spirit. 2. We do not claim that she brought forth God tri-une, but only God the Son, the second Person of ~he Trin-ity. Sometimes when we employ the word "God" we mean the three divine Persons, as when we state that God created the world. Creation belongs equally to all three divine Persons. At other times the word is taken to indi-cate a definite Person, as in the phrase, God became man. It is quite correct to use the word "God" in both connota-tions. But one may object, "Why do we not always state the whole truth, by declaring at once that Mary is the 160 THE MOTHER'OI~ GoD Mother of God the .Son, and not Simply the Mother of God?" The reason is quite" simple. The insidious claim that Mary bore a mere man into the world could in no more effective way b~ laid low at one stroke than by desig-nating her in one. word,- "theotokos," that is "God-bearing," Or in our familiar phraseology-"Mother of uGnodde.r" tTheh eim wphaoclte o ffa tbhriisc s oinf ghleerse tthicuanld fearblsoelth.ood crashes 3. Finally we-do not iay that Mary is the mother of "the human nature of the Son of God. Some in their anxiety to remove misunderstanding suggest that we ,reduce our claim for Mary to a motherhood of human nature, since in this case the mother did no more than clothe an already existing Person with the nature that made Him man. No, this simplification "is in no wise admissible, involving as it does a false notion of the term "mother" and of the implied idea of generation. A mother is properly said t6 bear a son, not his nature. Though her immediate function cbncerns directly only the material ele-ment of his being, the soul being created directly by. God, she is never styled the mother of his body, or the mother of his human nature. She invariably giv.es birth to a child, a man, a person, .an individual; call him what you will, but note that it is .always "he" that is born, not "it." "Mother" and "son''~ are correlative, never "mother" and "nature." The stupen.dous fact in the'present case, known only through revelation, is that the Person in question is the Son of GodHimself. We must, then, observe the same propriety of language: Mary bore "Him," "this Person," "this child"; she is His mother, not the mother of His human nature. Coming now to our Positive doctrine, what"do we claim in regard to the divine maternity? The points may \ I61 "ALOY$1US C. KEMPER be very briefly stated, being already largely covered by the preceding explanation. 1. Mary cooperated in the birth of her divine Son exactly ~s any other mother, as far as her maternal func-tion was concerned. What she could not furnish as belonging to the paternal activity was in this case sup-plied by the power of the Holy Spirit. 2. The ordinary laws of human development were operative as usual. For nine whole months the Blessed Virgin was inexpressibly more than a mere temple of God, for the flesh of her divine offspring and her own were united in a°truly~physical unity as the sacred fruit of her womb advanced to maturity. 3. The birth of Christ was a ~irgin birth, strictly miraculous--a truth defined by the Church from the earliest ages. andexpressed in the Creed by the words "born of the Virgin Mary." This was the second nativ-ity of the Son of God, who through it became one 6f our race without ceasing to be Son of God. 4.' Ther~ is however only one Son under considera-tion, not two. As soon as one would wish to introduce a second son the hypostatic union would be sacrificed, and we should find ourselves in the Nestorian two-person camp. We should then be constrained to refer to "this one" as the Son of the Father, and to the "other one" as the Son of the Mother, and the latter, would not be God, nor would Mary be the Mother of God. The truth is the other way. We point to the Infant ,Jesus in the crib, or to the dying Savior on the cross and ciy out, enlight-ened by supernatural faith, "truly this is the Son of God "and of Mary." 5. The actions belonging to the body,the soul and ¯ the human nature of "this man" may be, and indeed must 162 MOTHER 01~ GOD be, attributed to the second person of the Trinity, Thus it is God Himself that dwelt amongst us, God Himself that was born, was nurtured at Nazareth, "ate, slept. walked ~he streets, preached, prayed, sweat blood, suffered, died, and was.buried. Some of these expressions occur in the Creed, in the recitation of which we often fail to remark that the greater part of it concerns the terrestrial human life of the eternal Son of God. made flesh and dwelling amongst us. ,. His dwelling amongst us depende.d upon His first having been "born of the Virgin Mary," which is but another way of saying that the Virgin is truly and properly the Mother of God. A cold and schematic analysis such as the foregoing may appear an unworthy appraisal ofone of the most con-soling truths of our faith, and of the most sublime of all .of Mary's priceless prerogatives, her divine maternity, the very rbot and foundation of all her magnificent adorn-ments. Yet cold, theological analysis is a necessary approach to'a fuller realization of the rich treasure of our holy faith. It wiil serve in the present case, it is hoped, to focus a clearer, steadier light on the Madonna with the divine Child, by clearing a.way any lingering haze of misY understanding that may attach to her maternal dignity, so that the truth and beauty of this sweetest of all images may stand forth in new brilliancy in our minds, and cap-tivate our hearts in a more undying love of the Mother and the Son. 163 The Cell Technique ot: Specialized Ca!:holic Action Albert S. Foley, S.2. 44CTRONGER and greater than any othe~will no doubt ~ be the aid afforded to Catholic Action by the numerous religious families of both sexes who have already rendered signal .services to the Church for the good of souls in your'nation. They w.ill give this aid not only by their incessant prayers but still more by generously devoting .their 'efforts to it, even if they do not, properly speaking, have charge of souls; they will give it more par- .ticularly by preparing for Catholic Action, even from the most tender age, the boys and girls whom they teach in their work, and especially in schools and colleges, both for men and women, placed in great part under the direction of reli-gious Institutes; ~nd above all in developing inthem the sense of the apostolate, and in directing them finally toward the Catholic Action organizations or in receiving these into their own associations and institutions.''1 In accordance with these wishes and directives of our .late Holy Father, great Work has been done by many out-standing religious youth directors in English-speaking countries. These religious, by their literary and organiza-" tional work, by their agitation and their achievements, have contributed mightily to the cause of general Catholic " Action. There is hovcever one phase of the movement that has no~ yet received sufficient attention in the United States. That is the preparation of leaders for the apostolate of 1pius X[ to Cardinal Leme da Silveira Cintra and tl~e Brazilian Hierarchy, October 27, 1935. AAS 28 (1936) 163. 164 THE CELL TECHNIQUI~ specialized Catholic Action by means of the cell technique. Lacking leaders so trained, the development of total Cath-olic Action in our country is lagging slightly behind some parts of the Catholic World. Butwe can be sure that this state of things will not last .long. Many religious through-out the country have become convinced of the value of this new technique. They have become the biodynes of this new .cell movement, have begun to stimulate cell grow~th and multiplication in all kinds of milieus, and even in manor existing Catholic Action organizations. If these pioneers are joined by large numbers of our capable, enthusiastic religious, American Catholic Action will soon become-the vital Christianizing influence it should be. Catholic Action is undeniably destined to be a force for the restoration of a11 things and all men in Christ. Plus XI defined it as the "participation of the laity in the apostolate of the hierarchy." He moreover insisted that this participa-tion should not be merely g~neral and sporadic as in the past, but should be organized and specialized according to environment, to facilitate an apostolate of like by like--~ the worker becoming an apostle for workers, the profes-sional man for professional men, the student for Other stu-dents. To meet the extra demands .of this personal aposto-late, the cell technique was devised, and the Pope, after seein~g it in action, praised it as the "genuine, authentic, per~ fected forrii of Catholic Action." What precisely is this cell technique? The cell notion and terminology is of course derived by analogy from the physiological unit of the living organism. A Catholic Action cell is a small, specialized unit of the Mystical Body, having, as every cell has, two dements: 1.) an active share in the life of the whole Body in order to achieve its particu-lar function; and 2) a certain inner composition fitted and adapted to carry out that function. We shall consider in 165 ALBERT S. FOLE~ this article both the apostolic spirit energizing the cell, and theinner composition and w6rkings of its organization. ¯ First, as to the apostoli~ spirit. In the letter quoted at the head of this article, Pius XI stresse~l the importance of "developing in them the sense Of the apostolate." It is not enough for them to know, the Pope pointed out, that the laity are, by their membership in the Mystical Body, privi-leged and entitled to share in the hierarchy's apostolic work. Nor is it ~uflicient to hammer home their duty to their fel-low men in this respect., They must be imbued with so ardent and personal a love for Christ that the apostolic spirit will automatically, inflame them.' No blue-nosed zealotry, no fanatical reforming mania, no hypocr.itical, h01ier-than-thou attitude can pose .as apostolic in cell work. Rather, the soundest basis, for lasting achievement through the technique is this keen personal attachment the Leader. That, by the way, is the method our Lord Himself used to draw His first followers. By His personal magnetism He won toHimself Andrew and John. Andrew, enthusi-astic in his new-found love, brought Simon Peter to Christ. John no doubt brought, his brother James. Then when Philip was called, his first apostolic conquest was Nathaniel. Soon the group, the first cell, was formed. Christ won their hearts utterly to Himself. Only then were they ready for their apostolic mission. This personal devotion to Christ is all the more neces-sary because of the apostolic methods, used in celt work. The re-Christifying of the immediate milieu is to be car-ried on not only through the general methods of propa-ganda and influence, but especially by .the apostolate of personal contact, of man-to-man conquest of consciences and souls through service, winning influence, individual attention and indoctrination. 166 THE. CELl. \ The present-day, possibilities and functionings of tNs System were symbolized vividly during one of-the Cath-olic Action .Congresses in Europe before the war. At a n[gh~ service ina giant stadium. some 80,000 were assembled. Suddenl~ all the lights went out, except candles burning on the altar. From one of these, signifi-cantly, the leader lighted his candle, carried the flame down to his neighbors, and transmitted it to them by personal contact. These two lighted in turn the two nearest to them. The light at first spread slowly along the fbont rows as candle after candle caught fire. But soon it gained momentum. It became a racing flame, sweeping through. the whole center of the stadium and up into the stands in geometrically progressive leaps and bounds until all were ignited. That is a true symbol of the movement. A flame, a fire passed on by :personal contact in the immediate milieu can spread and catch all, where methods of mass a~itaton .of large, unwieldy units, fired by an outside enthusiast, will at most perhaps light up a temporary, borrowed glow. Using this personal contact technique, a small group of Catholic Actionists won back to the Church and:the Sacraments 85 pergent of the student bod~ in a godless state University in France within three y~a~s:. Another group of ~lerks at the Paris Stock Exchange conquered for Christ 300 of the 500 clerks there. The remainder were brought into conformity with Christian business ethics. Result: the Exchange was reformed more effectively by this technique than Wall Street by the. SEC. It is noteworthy. too that the Jocists in Europe have, by this method, triple~ their membership to well over a million since the tragic summer of 1940, despite the handicaps of the occupation. S~ilar results are being obtained, in Canada. In our own country a few such.instances as these are on record. One 167 .~LBEKT ~. FOLEY Manchester youth won back to the Church twenty-four out of twenty-seven of his companions who had fallen away. A Notre Dame freshman, after a few months of training in the technique, ~vent back to his home town and inspired forty of his former high school friend~ with the idea. Together he and they spent their summer getting Catholic children to go to Catholic schools. They thus increased the enrollment of Catholic grammar and high schools more than twenty percent. It is therefore rather incorrectto maintain that none of our youth in school or out of it is capable of being inflamed with this conquering spirit. The plain fact is that many are already burning with a fiery desire to do something for Christ, and that many others can easily be so enkindled. Under the pressure, of the war, or perhaps despite it, .the more intelligent and wide-awake among them are authen-tically responding to the Church's spiritual program. Mass is being better .attended, more intelligently shared-in, more fruitfully lived. Retreats, holy hours, visits, and other spiritual activities send them back to religion classes eager to learn more of Christ. They willingly undertake myriads of zealous activities for Him, and for His Mysti-cal Body, a consciousness of which latter is not.wanting . tin them, now that their frequent Communions and their innate goodness and ~harity are bearing fruit. Hitherto, perhaps too often, these early indications of piety have been taken as signs of an incipient religious vocation, not of a summons to Catholic Action. Spirited youths have sometimes shied away from the religious .life when it and it alone was presented to them as the only logical conclusion of a keen,-active love for Christ. To avoid'tha~ special vocation for which they felt no attrac-tion, they have too often built up .resistance to the call of Christ, become impervious to the influence of the Sacra- 168 THE CELL TECHNIQUE mentsand of retreats, and allowed the flame of their love for Christ to be smothered in other pursuits. If they were given training and instruction in .the c~ll t~echniqu¢ of Catholic Action specialized to their student-or youth surroundings, this fire would be saved. They would then be prepared for a zealous lay Catholic life in their future environment, and for the religious life as Well, should theyfinally choose it. One difficulty-immediately presents itself. Will the grooming of youth for lay apostolic work seriously cut down the number of religious vocations? If 'the best youngsters become enthusiastically interested in and trained for the vast field of zealous achievements for Christ in their Own milieu, will they devote their lives to that field rather than enter the religious life? Will first-hand acquaintance with the dynamic, up-to-the~minute, effi-cient techniques of specialized Catholic Action so absorb all their interest as to leave no room for ambi~oning the apostolic work open to religious? It is hot easy to answer.these queries in advance. But it can be noted that in those countries where religious have generously devoted their efforts to training youth for specialized Catholic Action, religious vocations have increased. In Italy, just one year after the reorganization of Catholic Action, the feminine ~ection alon(~ furnished 2,500 vocations. In France, Belgium, and Holland, they were on the upsurge.These Catholic Action groups con- ' sidered it a sign of a successful federation if it produced ~eligious vocations among the leaders or among the ~ank and file. Where none were forthcoming, those in charge sensed that s~mething was.awry. Already in~ the United States, where specialized cells are in the experimental stage in Chicago, Toledo, Dayton, and New York, in Manchester and other cities in the New England States, at 169 .~LBERT S. FOLEY l~otre Dame, Marquette, John Carroll and Dayton Uni-versities and a. dozen other colleges, as well as in scattered groups t~roughout the rest of the country, many religious vocations have_ resulted. Moreover these new recruits will be all the more excellent religious for having served their apprenticeship in the cell movement. This becomes evident from an examination of the inner structure and the other elements of this cell tech-nique. Given a group of six or eight intelligent, sincere leaders-to-be (not politicians, publicity seekers, pious racketeers, or "pushy" religious climbers), the technique first prescribes that they be formed into a cell, a living unit of the.Mystical. Body, under the personal direction of a priest or a religious. The cell is organized under a leader, usually the oldest with ~he best personality, and through this leader and by means of private conferences with him, the director outlines plans and procedures for the cell meeting of about two hours every week without fail. It is in the cell meeting that the fire of personal zeal is fanned into flame, and the techniques of spreading that fire to others are studied, applied to their own lives and to the concrete problems of their surroundings. ~ The formula for the meeting comprises the follow-ing: 1) CorporateVocal Prayer before and after the meeting; 2) Corporate Mental Prayer or Gospel Study; 3) The Checkup; 4) The Social Inquiry; 5) Liturgy .Appreciation. A brief word on each of these) 2More detailed analysis is impossible in so short a compass as an article. Consult for further information, the following works: Fitzsimons and McGuire, Restorin9 All Tt~ings, A Guide to Catl~olic Action, (Sheed ~ Ward, 1938) 198-236; McGuire.-Paul, Handbook of Group AOencla, (K. of C., New Haven, 1940): Geissler. E. Trainin9 of Lay Leaders, (Univ.~ of Notre Dame. 1941): William Boyd, "Militants of Christ" Orate Fratres, xvi (Jufie 14. 1942) 338-347. In regard to the program of subjects for Inquiries. we may mention that this has been worked out in exact detail by youth groups in other countries---Canada, for instance, having a full seven-year cycle of subjects. These, of course, have to be adapted to the American scene by individual and collective work of the cells, but cellists can no doubt learn much from their experience, as is the case with those already experi-menting with it here. - '170 1) Corporate'Vocal Prayer. Led by one of the them= bets, who may or. may not be permanently chosen, the group recites what vocal prayers they choose for the start and the end of the meeting. It may seem strange at first that the priest or religious present should pray along with them instead of praying in place of them. But the reason is apparent. For united, organized action the group must not only work together, play together, study and plan together, but must also pray together. Active, dynamic praying can never be developed by passively hearing others pray. They must do it themselves, and thus develop that sense of togetherness in the Mystical Body, that union of all with Christ as His own. They or the director may suggest prayers, either of the ordinary devotional type, or, as their acquaintance with it increases, from the liturgy. 2) Corporate Mental Prager or Gospel Studg. One of the main means to fan the fire of love for Christ has been found to be the direct, prayerful study, of the inspired word for about fifteen minutes at the start of the me.eting. It is perhaps difficult for religious to realize the stirring impact of the Gospels on one who prays over them for the first time. True, most youngsters are half-way acquainted with the parables and the general outline of our Lord's ¯ life. But the absorbing and compelling magnetism of His life. is a new thing to them. By personal, prayerful reading and application to their lives of scenes' like the Annuncia-tion, the call of the Apostles, the full Sermon on the Mount, the discourses inSt. John, the sermons in the Acts, the~, are as a group drawn together to the Master, meet Him as never before, feel their hearts burning within them" anew. This should be linked up with and pointed toward the Social Inquiry, to furnish motivation,, inspiration, guid-ance, or principles for it. And no one, surely, is apt to be 171 ~LB~T S. FOLEY better prepared for doing this than the religious who has for years 'drunk deeply at this source of light and warmth. It is not long before the cell realizes, as Archbishop Good-. ier maintains, that "nothing can take the place of constant, repeated reading of the Gospels." '3) The Checkup. This is out of place here in a logi- .cal explanation of the technique, but it is definitely in place in the technique itself, especially after the first meeting. The checkup consists in this, that the ceil members examir~e their social consciences. They report on the fulfilment of the definite resolutions taken in their Gospel study. Each one tells of his work in carrying out the plans decided on in the Social Inquiry. Mutual stimulation, interchange of ideas and metl~ods, discussion of successful techniques of approach, conquest, influence,, and service spontaneously result. Nor should the psychological value of the checkup be overlooked. It plays as important a role in fostering the social apostolate as would a public examen of con-science in the endeavor to attain to .personal perfection in a rel~gi6us community. 4) The Social. Ir~quirtj. This is the most important and most essential section of the cell meeting, the heart' of the whole cell ,technique. Many religious are acquainted ~with it as the Jocist method of attacking social problems in any given milieu, always with the aim, of course, to rec,hristianize or conquer more completely for Christ the persons contacted. The three phases of the method are observation, judg-ment, and action. These constitute what amounts to a group meditation, conducted l~y the discussion method, with the .three phases roughly corresponding to the exer-cise of the memory, the understanding, and the will. To be sure, just as in formal meditation, it is more a question of stress than of air-tight division into these compartments. 172 THI~ CI~LL TECHR'IQUI~ BU~ while forming one unit,, one human act, the phases are distinct ~ind have definite purposes. In the Observation phase the leader and the cellists put their heads together.to analyse the elements of the problem at hand, .the available data they can recall. It is a fact- .finding, fact-gathering process.to set the stage fo~ discus-sion, thought, and comparison witl~ Christian ideals. These too they mus~ recall (or learn if they do not know them) either from their Gospel, study, or from religion classes, or from other instruction in Catholic social prin-ciples and moral-standards, ethical practice and even com-mon sense. All the facets of this one environmental prob-lem are thus examined until the cell" discovers what is wrong or less good when placed side by side with Chris-tian standards. To,aid this .process, the leader prepares in advance with the director's aid, a series, of stimulating questions that suggest avenues of approach and investigation,, or revive faint memories hidden away in the recesses of the mind. Once this is done, they are ready for the second phase. The Judgment to be passed, it must be remarked, is not a juridical one. It is certainly not to be a Pharisaic one. Nor is it to remain theoretical. It is rather a reso-lute, imperiofis decision reached by all simultaneously,, or better still,, a practical judgment by the group that some-thing is to be done and done by them as a group, in the, solution of this problem. By uniting the data of their. observation with the motivation furnished by their zeal and-with the urgent need for their action, they concretize this zeal and channel their ~efforts into this one present prob-lem. Their convictions thus became principles of action, and it is this action that they discuss in the third and cli-mactic phase of the method.- 173 ALBERT S. FOLEY Everything is pointed toward this Action phase. But it is the most difficult and critical Of all. Here the group discusses what sp.ecific, definite, immediate steps are to be taken by each member, what precise lin~s of conquest to be ~ followed before their next meriting. Concrete resolutions are takeh. These are recorded to be checked up on next week., The prime psychological value of this group medita-tion is plain. In religious organizations and in religion classes, in retreats, sermons, missions and lectures, we have tried every method of force-feeding known to pedagogical science. We wonder at the sluggish,spiritual appetites of the students, even the more capable ones. This method fosters their self-activity. It lets them eat. They rise up from this spiritual board and go out to expend their ener-gies in action and exercise, and come back athirst and hun-gering for more. They find that it is not what is given them but what they get by their own efforts that.really satisfies and stimulates. The Observe, Judge, Act system may not produce .doctorate theses, but it is their own, their very own, not some~ pre-fabricated or pre-digested menu impersonally served them by outsiders. 5) The Liturgy1. The final few minutes of the mi~et-ing are devoted to an" appreciation of the currentliturgy. As a stimulus to their grou15 praying nothing helps more than active participation in Massas a cell. For this,, an understanding of the Church's.seasons and of the weekYs feasts is an indispensable aid. This should be linked up too withthe carrying out of their practical resolutions for specialized Catholic Action. What, therefore, should a religious do who wishes to make use of this technique in training a group of leaders-to-be? The Pope's program in regard to general Catholic Action applies with particular, force to this specialized 174 THE CELL TECHNIQUE form: Prayer, Study, Experimentation. Without prayer, the prime requisite, the other, two are doomed from the start. In lieu of special courses, such .as those urged by Plus XI and Cardinal Pacelli in a letter written by the pres-ent Holy Father to superiors of religious orders (March 12, 1936), religious may study the movement by making acquaintance with the books and groups referred to in this article and by following the leads they will give if con.- sulted. Finally, experimentation with groups °even in existing organizations (as is being done in the Sodalities in many places) can be carried on with no more friction than that caused by the retreat movement. Both. retreat and cell movements are for the training of an elite, both are indis-pensable to th~ future ,work of these lymphocytes, these cells for the restoration and upbuilding of the Mystica! Body.' Divine Providence and Religious Institutes In an article entitled ."Introduction to Franciscan Spirituality," published in Franciscan Studies for December, 1942, Fr. Philibert Ramstetter, O.F.M., rightly insists that the Church must be the special object of God's loving Providence, and that in particular the Religious Orders and Congregations com~ under this Provi-dence. "Nor should the multitude and diversity of Religious communities mak~ us pausg," adds Fr. Ramstetter. "The all-wise God has.a particular and exactly-defined task for every single one of them. Moreover, history makes it clear that each such Order and Congregation, at least partly because of its special work, has its own mor~ or less specialized way of sanctifying the men and women who come under its influence, In other words, by the Providence of God each,approved Order or Con-gregation becomes a distinct school of spiritualityby itself or finds it proper place within one already established, each school having its particularized ideal~ of the supernatural life given to the world by ~lesus Christ. "The variety of schools within God's Church does no~ imply that the essence or principles of Christian living ever chang~they are as constant as the mind of God. But it does mean that the Christian concept of religion is wide enough to embrace not only varying degrees of personal perfection but also different artirude~ towards the Christian life and, as a result, different ways of living it." 175 The Seal ot: Confession Edwin F. Healy, S.J. WHEN a Catholic goes to confession and tells the priest ~all the secret sins and defects of his life, he realizes that the knowledge of the faults which he is impart-ing to his confessor will remain jUStoaS hidden from others as though he had spoken to God alone. Many theologians used to assert that the knowledge of the sins confessed is possessed by the confessor only as God. As man, he knows nothing of them. Though many other theologians dis-agreed with this way of stating the case, all donceded that, since the confessor has received this knowledge as the repre-sentative of God, it is now beyond the scope of human rela-tions. The priest possesses it as incommunicable, knowl-edge which must be buried forever in the secret ~iaults of his memory. Since the earliest days of the Church all theologians have taught that the confessor must suffer anything, even the most horrible type of death, rather than violate his obli-gation of keeping secret all sacramental knowledge. The seal of confession binds in every imaginable set of circum.- ¯ ¯ ~stances. Even though a priest, by violating the seal, could prevent the outbreak of a prolonged, devastating, world-wide war, he would, nevertheless, still be bound to absolute secrecy. In other words, a confessor is never permitted to reveal knowledge guarded by the seal, no matter how great the good which such a revelation would effect. There are no exceptions to this 'rule. If even one exception were allowed, the faithful would not approach the Sacrament of Penance with the same freedom and confidence. Penitents in general, and especially hardened sinners, would entertain the fear that their sins might one day be revealed. By pre- 176 THE SI~,~L 01~ CONFESSION venting, such evil effects, .the excluding of any and every exception works to the common spiritual good of all Chris-ians arid greatly outweighs any accidental beneficial results which might follow in this or that particular case from the restelation of a sacramental confession. The seal of confession, then, is the obligation 9f abstaining fromall use of sacramental knowledge, if the use Of that knowledge would either betray the penitent or render him Suspect. Hence, the confessor is obliged to main-tain the strictest silence concerning all that he learns in the Sacrament of Penance, when the discussion of such matter would even remotely risk disclosing the .penitent .and his sin. The obligation of the seal requires even more than this. The priest must refrain from making use of anything learned in confession, if the use of such knowledge would in any .way whatsoever tend to the detriment of the Sacra-ment. The subject-matter of the seal consists, in general, of all sins, defects and everything else of a confidential nature manifested in a sacramental confessiofi.It includes all that the penitent rightly or wrongly confesses as s{n. All mor-tal sins,, then, even though they be notorious, and all venial sins, even the slightest, are matter of the-seal. But more than this. The subject-matter of the seal embraces all remarks and explanations made by the penitent with the intention of perfecting the ~self-accusation, whether or not the points mentioned are necessary or useful or wholly superfluous for the proper understanding of the case. If, then, the penitent reveals to the priest temptations which he has experienced or evil tendencies against which he must struggle, the confessor is obliged to keep this knowledge strictly to himself. The same is true with regard to the description of the circumstances in which the s~ns occurred. If; for example, a penitent mentions that the murder which 177 EI~W!N'F. HEALY he has committed took place at a certain gasoline station, or if he discloses the manner in which the murder was per-petrated, these bits of information also would be safe-guarded by the Seal. What is to be said of the physical or mental defects which, in one way or another, come to the attention of the confessor during the course of the confession? Natural deficiencies must be considered matter of the seal either if they are manifested in order to explain some sin or if they are secret defects. Even though these latter are not men-tioned by the penitent but are accidentally learned by the confessor, the priest must maintain sacramental secrecy in their regard. It is dear, then, that such traits as a tendency to avarice or anger or other secret moral, weaknesses are sub-ject- matter of the seal. Though th~ subject-matter of the seal is very extensive, there is, nevertheless, ' certain knowledge acquired in sacra-mental confession which does not fall under the seal. In this category belong Statements made clearly by way of digres-sion, which in no way per.tain tO the sins submitted to the Power of the Keys. An example of this is the remark:. ',Father, my new home is finished now. Will you bless it when you have time?" The knowledge thus imparted'is given extra-sacramentally. That one come~ to confession is of itself a public fact to which the confessor is a witness. Hence, it is not matter of theseal. The same is true regard-ing the !ength of time which a penitent remains in the con-fessional. If, however, a man approaches a priest in secret to go to confession, his coming to the Sacrament is not pub-licbut secret. Since knowledge of tl~is secret fact could easily give rise to suspicion of serious sin, it becomes matter of the seal. Also, if a man were to spend an unusually long time in the confessional, prudence would prompt the priest not to reveal this, for fear that it might lead others to sus- 178 THE S~L pect that this penitent had a large nUmberof sins to tell. Let~us suppose that a thief were to kneel at the feet 6f a priest and recount various sins, but with no in~entiofi of receiving the Sacrament ofPenance. He has placed himself in. these circumstances merely to have a .better opportunity for picking the pockets of this pious priest. In this case the confessor would in no wise be bound to sacramental secrecy, because the obligation 6f the seal arises only from a confes-sion which.is sincerely made with a view to receiving abso-lution. (Whe(her or' not the absolution is actual!y imparted makes no difference with regard to the obligation of the seal.) As long asthere is the intention, then, to . receive the Sacrament of. Penance, the obligation of the sea! ¯ is present in spite of the fact that ~he .penitent lacks~ the proper dispositions or the priest lacks faculties for hearing confessions. A sacramental confessi.on, therefore; and only a sacramental confession imposes the obligation of the seal. But, one may ask, what if a man were to go to a priest Who is vesting for Mass, and, in order to put an end to his wbrrying, explain certain severe tem. ptations which he has just experienced? Is this to be deemed sacramental confes-sion? It is sacrament~il on on:e condition:¯ namely, that the man desires the priest to give him absolution, in case he judges it necessary or advisable. If, on the other hand, a.per-son confesses his sins by letter to a priest who is in another town,the~re would be no sacramental secrecy involved. Why is this? The confession, in order to be sacramental, must be made to a priest who is actually present. What if one approached a priest and, with no intention at all of going to confession,, revealed some secret, prefacing his disclosure with the words: "Father, I am telling you this under the seal of. confession"? Would tiiis priest then be bound by the seal? No, he would not. But let us suppose thathe readily agreed to receive the communication under the 179 EDWIN F.' HEALY secrecy of confession. Even in this case he would not be held by the seal. The reason is dear. Since no sacramental confession is made, not even an incipient one, this secret can-not be protected by the seal of the Sacrament. x~rhat is required to constitute a transgression against the obligation of the seal? Obviously the seal is violated. when one reveals matter protected~ by sacramental secrecy and at the same time in some why designates the. penitentm supposing, of cours~e, that the latter has granted no explicit permission to disclose this knowledge. Such illicit revela-tion may b~ either direct or indirect. For direct violation there must be a clear manifestation both of matter of the seal and of the identity of the penitent concerned. If, for example, a priest were to make known the fact that John Jones committed a murder (and he is aware .of this.only from Jones' confession), he would undoubtedly.be guilty of a direct violation of the seal. But what if.that priest did not mention Jones by name, but simpler declared that the wealthiest man in this town (and Jones is known as such) ,committed a murder? This also would go directly counter to the seal. Or again, if that priest were to state that the first man who came to him to confession today confessed the crime of murder, and if his hearers knew., that Jones was ~.-that first pegitent, the seal would be violated directly. Not only revealing mortal sins but divulging even venial sins can constitute a direct violation of the seal. If, forexample, the confessor asserts that' James" Brown con-fessed a sin of lying or that he is guilty of serious sins or of m~nq venial sins, he is directly transgressing against the sacrdd 'obligation to secrecy. The sins need not be named specifically. . Up to this point we have treated only of the direct vio-lation of the seal. A violation is said to be indirect when causes the danger of manifesting the penitent and his sins or 180 THE SEAL OF (:ONFESSION at least of exciting suspicion in his regard. This danger may be created by what the confessor says or does or even by what he omits to do. A confessor would indirectly violate the seal, if he made known the penance which he imposed on a certain penitent, unless of course the penance were very light, for example, two Hail Marys. Provided that his way of acting could be observed by others, a confessor would sin against the obligation of the seal if, after confes-sion, he were to give the penitent a severe look or if he failed to treat him in as friendly a manner as he did before.- More.- over, a confessor violates the seal indirectly, if during the ' confession he argues with the penitent in a somewhat loud. voice, or if he repeats the sins confessed in a tone that risks revealing.the faults to others. In passing we may remark that eavesdroppers who try to hear what the penitent is saying in confession or those who kneel very close to the confessional in order to learn wha~ is going on sin against, the seal, even though they reveal to others nothing of what they manage to overhear. One thus listening to a-penitent's confession is causing the revelation of the penitent and of his sins to one who has no right to this knowledge, that is, to himself. This is a direct viola-tion of the seal. However, if one happens to be standing some distance from the confessional, he is not obliged to move away or to stop his ears, though he may accidentally overhear one who is confessing too loudly. (Nevertheless, whatever is thus overheard mustbe guarded under the seal. ) Let us now consider the seal in its wider interpretation. The seal, taken in this meaning, is violated indirectly when, on the one hand, there is no danger of either disclosing or exciting suspicion about the penitent and his sin, but, on the other hand, harm or displeasure to the penitent arises from the use of sacramental knowledge. In instituting the Sacra- 1'81 EDWIN F, HEALY ¯ ment of Penance~. Christ imposed the obligation of the seal on all. those who share in confessional kr~owledge. ¯ He did :.this in order to preclude the aversion towards the Sacrament which the lack of such security would occasibn in the hearts of the faithful. Christ desired that no Use be made ofcon-fessional knowledge which would cause injury to the Sacraz ment. In order to safeguard the observance of the seal in the strict sense, the Church forbids the confessor to employ sac- . ramental knowledge in a way that w.ould displease the peni-tent. Such :;n action of the priest, even though there were no danger of betraying tl~e penitent, would, nevertheless, violate the seal as it is understood in its .w, ider meaning. We mentioned above that the seal, in its broader inter-pretation, is violated ~hen "harm or displeasure to the peni-ten[ arises from the use of sacramental knowledge." What do we meanby, the words "harm or displeasure" ? We mean injury either in body, in soul, or in extern~l possessions. We mean whatever would redound to the dishonor or discredit of the penitent; whatever would inconvenience him or annoy, shame, or sadden him. We mean, in a word, what-ever would make the penitent even slightly regret his con-fession. Hence, the use of confessional knowledge which would cause any of these effects must be counted illicit.If such use were permissible, penitents would find the Sacra-ment of Penance less desirable and less easy to approach. ~:'hus they would be deterred, at least to some extent, from going to confession. They would not find in this Sacrament ~he freedom and the consolation which they may righ~tly ¯ expect. Would.not the use of sacramental knowledge which we brand as illicit become lawful if the penitent himself were unaware of the fact that he was being injured o~ legislated against because of what is known only through the Sacra-ment? Let us imagine, for example, that a particular peni- 182 tent isdeprived of some o~ce or that he is denied some privi-lege because through confession he is known tO be unworthy ~ of these. Is such use permissible, provided the penitent does not know and wili never learn that what he told'his confes-sor is thus being employed to his disadvantage? No, such use is never allowed. The penitent's ignorance of the fact that his confessor is thus using sacramental knowledge would in no way r~nder Such use licit. It is not necessary that the penitent hnow that knowledge ~btained in a sa~ra-mental confession is being employed to injure him. If a cer-tain use of sacramental knowledge would be displeasing to the penitent if it .were known, such use must be placed in the category of forbidden~actions. Let us suppose, for instance, tha~ a priest after confession, when alone with his penitent, shows, himself less congenial or notably more brusque towards the penitent. Though the penitent does notadvert to the fact that the confessor is acting thus because of what he heard in_confession, the priest sins agains~ the seal, taken in the wide sense. ~ The confessor must give no sigfi that he is conscious of what was mentioned in the Sacramentof Penance. He is: moreoyer, forbidden to speak to his penitent outside confes-sion of any ~in which the latter confessed. In this case, it is true, the reve~lation, of no secret would be involved, but such a way of acting would ordinaril~r be displeasing'to the faith-ful. Once the penitent has retired from the confessional, the sacramental judgment is at an end, and the priest in now' speaking to the penitent 'of what transpired during that judgment, is acting against the reverence and the liberty due the. Sacrament. One may readily see, then, that the sacra-mental seal binds more strictly than any other ty.pe of secret. Other secrets, unlike the sacramental seal, would not be vio-lated, if those who had the hidden knowledge in common were to discuss it a ~mong themselves. 183 At times, pe~nitents ~ppr0ach their confessor Outside con-fi~ ssion and ask him about the penance which he imposed on them, or about sbme bit Of advice which he gave, or about the gr~ivity of a certain sin which they confessed. Does the sealprevent the confessor .from answering these questions~? No, it does not, because by thd very fact that the penitent begins speaking of these matters he grants permission to the priest to talk about them with him. Ordinarily, however, his permission is limited to a discussion of the matter which the penitent has broached and may not be extended to all the sins confessed. Incidentally we may mention that it is possible for a penitent to sin by revealing, without a good reason, the advice, the penance, and so forth, given by the confessor, if such a revelation woul~l redound to the priest's discredit. Those who hear the penitent's comments do not know the reasons Which prompted the confessor to impart such advice or to impose so severe a penance, and the priest is powerless to speak in his own defense. The penitent, more-over, should be on his guard against revealing anything 6f what transpires during the confession, if that would lower the Sacrament in the esteem of others. May the confesson without the penitent's leave, men-tion to him during the course of a confession sins confessed on previous occasions? Yes, this may be done, provided there is a sufficient reason for calling these past sins to .the attention of the penitent. The priest may deem it advisable to refer to some sin of the past, ih order to become better acquainted with the state of this penitent's ~oul and so be able to direct him more effectively. Far from objecting to this, the penitent should be happy that his confessor is so solicitous about his advancement in the. spiritual life. More-over, even.when a penitent leaves the confessional but returns immediately, the confessor may discuss with him 184 both the sins just confessed and the sins of previous confes-sions. Some priests give a few words of advice after having imparted the absolution. This is permissible, bedause, though the Sacrament is completed, the sacramental judg-ment, morally speaking; still continues. The penitent may, of course, give the confessor leave to speak outside confession about certain sins submitted to the Power of the Keys, and if this is done, the confessor may freely discuss those sins. It is important to note that this permission, in order to be valid, must be granted by the penitent n. ot only'expressly but also with entire freedom. If the permission were to be extorted by threats or fear or importunate pleadings, it would be worthless, and the con-fessor who acted upon it would violate the seal. The same ¯ is true with regard to permission that is merely presumed or interpretative. In this matter such a permission must be counted as no permission at all. When there is question of any use of confessional knowl-edge which would render the Sacrament more difficult or irksome, that knowledge must be kept just as secretly as though it did not exist. However, besides the case in which ¯ the penite.nt's permission has been freely and unmistakably granted, there is another perfectly licit use of sacramental knowledge. In general, that use is licit which would in no wise deter the faithful from frequenting the Sacrament, even though such use were publicly announced as lawful. When would this~ requirement be verified? This condition would be fulfilled, if a certain use of sacramental knowl-edge were to involve neither the direct nor indirect viola-tion of the seal nor the slightest ~trace of displeasure to peni-tents in general. We may summarize in the following" way the scope of use which is lawful. The use of confessional knowledge is permissible: (1) within the limits of matters which belong 185 EDWIN F. HEALY exclusively to one's own conscience; (2) outside these lim-its, in external a~tions, provided it is certain that there is no danger at all of .revealing the penitent and his sin or Of displeasing him or of making the Sacrament in general less approachable. A confessor, therefore, is allowed to pray for a particular penitent who is known from confession to be gravely tempted. A priest may meditate on his penitents and their faults, in order to be able to advise them more per-fectly. Moreover, a confessor, who has learned through confessions which he has heard thaf certain games have fre-quently ~aused spiritual or temporal ruin, may allow him-self tO be guided by this knowledge in 'avoiding these forms of amusement. A priest may show greater kindness and consideration for a penitent who he knows from confession is severely afflicted, pro.vided of course the confessor's way of acting would not engender suspicion in the minds of observers. Finally, it is well to remember that, if a priest knows about a certain person's recent sins be~:ore he hea~:s his Confession, that individual's act of confessing those sins to this priest ~does not place the confessor's previous-knowledge under the seal. The previous knowledge was and still remains extra-sacramental. The confessor, how-ever, mu~t exercise great prudence in the use of such infor-mati6n. This, then, is the common teaching of theologians regarding the obligation of the seal of confession. ~lust as our divine Lord, "by the pardon of His loving mercy, entirely wipes away and quite forgets the sins which through human weakness we have committed," so the minister of the Sacrament of Penance ieverently guards, e~ven to the shedding of his blood, everything that is mani-fested to him in the secrecy of the confessional. 186 The Discussion on Spiritual Direction The Editors ~oLMOST a year "ago (July, 1942) we published an '~'~ editorial entitle~l Spiritual Direction b~/ the Ordinary Confessor. Our purpose was to stimulate construc-tive discussion of the important topic of spiritual direction. To aid in the discussion, we subsequently published articles On The Need of Direction, Cooperation with Direct(on, Manifestation of Conscience, and The Prudent Use of Con-fession Privileges. During the course of the discussion we received many communications, most of which were pub-lished, at least in digest form. We were unable to publish some letters, and from those published we had to tempora-rily omit certain 13oints. It is now time to make a survey .of the entire discussion. This survey will include not merely the published ma.terial, but the unpublished sugges-tions as well. The reading of the survey will not .entirely supplant the reading of the original articles and communications. The articles developed certain points thoroughly, whereas we can merely touch on them here. The communications cofitained such a variety of suggestions that it seemed impos-sibleto weave them all into one readable article; conse-quently we had to select what appeared to be the most .important. The communications also revealed certain pro-nounced differences of opinion. As we did not wish our survey to be a mere catalogue of such differences, we felt that we had to "take sides," at least to the extent of trying to give a balanced judgment. 187 THE EDITORS ~. Those who have followed the discussion on spiritual direction have no doubt noticed that it gravitated almost dfitirelyto the guidhnce of Sisters. One Brother master of novices sent an excelldnt communication; all the other let-ters were fr6m Sisters or from priests who appeared to be thinking almost exclusively in terms of the direction of Sis-ters. I,n preparing the survey we had to decide on our point of View: should we speak exclusively of the direction of Sisters, or should we keep the matter sufficie~ntly general to include everyone? .We decided to give the survey with Sis-ters principallyin mind; but .we think that religious men who are interested in the matter will find that almost every-thing said here is equally applicable to them. Meaning of Spiritual. Direction In our introductory editorial, We were thinking of spir-itual direction in terms of the definition given by Father Zimmermann in his Aszetil~ (p. 230): "Instruction and encouragemer~t~of individuals (italics ours) on the way of perfection." This definition brings out one element~of spiritual direction that ascetical theologians usually stress: namely, it is individual. This individual, or personal, quality of spiritual direc- ~t-ion excludes such. things as the Commandments of God; the precepts, counsels, and example of- our Lord; the laws of the Church; the constitutions .and rules of a religious institute. All these things may be called spiritual direction in the sense that their give us the plan of a perfect life; but they are .not direction in the technical sense or even in the" ord'.mary popular sense. For the same reason, spiritual reading books and community conferences, even though they help much to clarify our ideas of perfection and stimu-late us to desire progress, cannot be called spiritual direC-tion. 188 SURVEY ON SPIRITUAL DIRECTION In their communi~ati0ns many zealous priests have spoken of certain types of "planned instruction" in the confessional. In so far as these instructions are general and the same for all they do not substantially differ from com-munity exhortations. They lack the individual element of spiritual direction. This does not mean that they do not serve a good purpose. Some priests can use them and accomplish much good by them. They do give the peni-tents some generally helpful thoughts; they do remind the penitents that the priest's time is theirs; and they are often the means of breaking down a barrier of reserve and pre-paring ~he way for personal direction. Moreover, such general adm~,nitions; given by a confessor of a religious community, are frequently very helpful in that they enable. theindividual religious to get a good start (for example, in keeping silence better), because all have been urged to do the same thing. All this is negative. It may be summed up by saying that spiritual direction is not general, but" particular, indi-vidual, personal. Its purpose is to help an individual to attain to the degree of perfection to which God is calling him. It supposes, therefore, a knowledge .of.~ the individu-al's own problems and aspirations, of his external cir-cumstances and l'iis tal.ents,~ and of the way the Holy Spirit operates in his soul. In what does direction actually consist? Father Zim-mermann sums it up in two words, "instruction and encouragement." In themselves, tl'iese words are.not ade-quate to express all the functions, of the spiritual director, but they do indicate the two principal ways in which, according to circumstances, he is to exert his influence on his spiritual charge: namely, on the intellect (by instruction), and on the wilt and the emotions (by encouragement). As for his influence on the'intellect, the director's work 189 THE EDITORS may vary from the very active function of telling the indi-vidual what to do and how to do it to the almost passive function of simply approving or disapproving the plans made by the individual. He gives pointed moral and asceti-cal advice, he answers questions, and he corrects erroneous notions. In regard to the will and the emotions, the direc-tor not only encourages, but he consoles in time of sorrow, strengthens in time of weakness, tra.nquillizes in time of dis-tress, and restrains in time of imprudent ardor. In all .these functions, the director must have regard for what he judges to be the designs of God on the soul of the individual com-mitted to his care. ¯ Need ot: Direction Rather pr'onoun'ced differences of opinion wereexpressed in our articles and communications con'cerning the need of direction for religious. In fact, there seems to have been a ¯ great deal of confusion in the discussion of this .topic. Per-haps we can avoid this confusion by referring the subject as definitely as possible to our actual conditions. ~In actual life, most of us are ordinary earnest religious,. not mystics. Hence, we consider here the need of direction for the avera~ge religious. Again, in actual 'life fe~w of us are privileged to have directors with the rare supernatural insight of a St. Francis de Sales. It- would be idle specula-tion for us to consider the need of direction, having in mind a director to whom access would be almost, impossible. Hence, we consider here direction that is normally obtain-able. With the question thus brought within the scope of our ordinary lives, we think it reasonable to uphold this propo-sition: some direction is a practical necessity for the aver: age religious to make safe and constant progress in perfec-tion. This general rule admits of exceptions. God can 190 SURVEY ON SPIRITUAL DIRECTION accomplish wonders in the soul without the aid of a direc, tor, but normally God uses.the human means of direction. Also, the general rule applies in different ways to various individuals; the degree and l~ind of help needed, as well as the frequency with which it is needed, will vary greatly. Perhaps the relativity of the need of direction can be seen more dearly by referring back to the functions of the director. " Young religious, particularly novices, are likely to need a great deal of intellectual help. They are unac-custome. d to self-study, to making appropriate resolutions; to choosing useful subjects for the particular examen; and they need guidance in these :matters, lest they waste much time and effort. Ascetical, principles are still merely the: oretical principles to them, and they often need help to see how they apply practically to their own lives. But the dependence on a director for intellectual help should certainly decrease with .the years. Religious who have finished their training and have taken their final vows should be able to plan for themselves; and .their need of the spiritual director, in so far as intellectual help is concerned, should be mainly .for friendly criticism. In other words, these religious plan their own lives, submit their plans to a director for approval or disapproval, and then occasionally make a report on the success or failure of the plan. Natu-ally, we make allowance here, even in the case of mature religious, for occasions when they face new problems or undergo special difficulties. They may need very detailed guidance on .such occasions; In regard to the need of the director's help for the will and the emotions, it is perhaps impossible to give a general rule. True, to a great extent progress in the religious life should develop emotional stability. Nevertheless, the prob-lem is largely an individual one, and quite unpredictable'. Age. does not fr~e us from such trials as discouragement, THE EDITORS loneliness, and. worr, y; indeed, age often accentuates Such trials. At various periods in our lives, most of us need sympathetic help or paternal correction lest we lose heart or' descend to low ideals. Where to Get Direction Granted the need of some direction, a question that pre-sents itself quite naturally is, "Where are we to get this direc-tion?" This question has already been answered, in so far as we can answer it, in previous issues of the REVIEW. What we have said can be capsuled into these three rules: (1) Get what you can from your superiors. (2) Among confes-sors, it isnormally preferable to get direction from the ordi-nary confessor, (3) If the ordinary confessor proves inade-quate, take advanta.ge of one or other privilege accorded by canon law. We suggest these three rules with deference to the special regulations or customs of particular institutes. Some insti-tutes provide a specially appointed spir.itual father; and the institute itself will indicate whether it is desirable that the spiritual father act as confessor or simply give extra-confessional direction. ¯ We have repeatedly mentioned the superior as a possible .source of spiritual direction, as did many of the published communications. -We think that this point calls for special emphasis, because it seems that one of the reactions to the Church's severe condemnation of obligatory manifestation of conscience has. been a swing to th~ opposite extreme, namely, that superiors are too rarely consulted even in mat-ters in which they are both qualified and willing to give advice. Either extreme is an eVil. The present ecclesiastical legislation safeguards what is of prime importance, the per-fect liberty of' the individual. Granted this liberty, much good can come to the superior, the subject, and to the family 192 SURVEY ON SPIRITUAL DIRECTION spirit of a community, from voluntary manifestation of conscience. A number of objections have been raised against insistent preference for the Ordinary confessor. Some¯ Sis-ters have pointed out that they have had almost as many ordina.ry confessors as they have lived years in religion; others have said that the ordinary is not interested, does not come on time, does not come regularly,, does not understand their life, and so forth. These are certainly practical diffi-cult. ies. They indicate cases in which a complaint might well 'be lodged with a competent authority, or in which. ifidividuals might profitably and justifiably avail them-selves of one or other of the confessional privileges given by canon law. But the dif[iculties do not detract from the wis-dom of the general rule. Many questions have be,en sent us concerning the advisability of direction by correspondence. ~Fhe general rule given by ascetical masters and, we think, confirmed by many distressing experiences, is that such direction should be either entirely discouraged or reduced to an absolute minimum. It is true that some priests have accomplished great things in this way, and that for some souls it is the only possible way of obtaining genuinely needed help. But it can hardly be approved as a normal practice. It tends t6 consume immense amounts of time, it seldom has the assur-ance of the strict privacy that intimate direction calls for, and of its very nature it is open to grave dangers of mis-understanding, both on the part of the director and on the part of~the directed. Only in rare instances is it a genuine apostolate. How to Get Direction The next logical question is: "How is one to get direc-tion?" This question has been asked often in the course Qf 193 THE EDITORS our discussion; and many bits of helpful advice have been scattered through the communications. The subject is too vast for complete development here. At best we can give only an outline, trying to incorporate the suggestions in some ready and readable form. It may be well to note that the outline will concern only confessidnal direction. ~ .We begin with three p.reliminary negatives. Don't maize "'direction" the principal purpose of gout confession. It is often said --- in fact, so often and by such reliable persons that there 'must be some truth in, it--that many religious do not know how to make a fruitful con-fession. Confession is a Sacrament. It produces its sacra-mental graces in,~ accordance witl~ the ~lisposition of the recipient. Essentially, this disposition is one of true con- .trit.ion; and perhaps the clearest sign of this cdntrition is a sincere purpose of amendment. All people, who confess ¯ frequently and have only small things to tell have p~actical difficulties on this score; there is always the danger that~ their confessions will be routine in the evil sense of this word: that is, they ~onfess with a very vague and indefinite purpose of amendment, with the:result that Penance plays a veiy slight part in .the efficacious bettering of their lives. Yet this is the principal purpose of frequent confession and it can be accomplished, even though the confessor "never gives advice. We have said that this is the first purpose of confession and in itself independent of the "spiritual direc'tion': aspect. We might add, however, that the two can be admirably combined. For instance, if the peniten~t were to tell the confessor: "Father, I want to make my confessions more fruitful, and I'd like your help in going-about it,'"this might be the beginning of the simplest yet sanest program Of spiritual direction possible for most religious. A second "don't" concerns prejudices: Don't be influ- 194 SURVEY ON SPIRITUAL DIRECTION enced b~i a prejudice against an~l '~onfessor. " TheSe preju-dices are manifold. For.instance ~ome religious think that the only one who can direct them is another religious; some think that all the good confessors belong to one religious o~der; some, on the contrary, believe that the most sy.mp~- thetic and h~lpful confessors are diocesan priests. We have l~eard/~11 opinions expressed, particularly those concerning confessors from religious orders. An honest judgment must label such opinions as prejudice. The actual facts are that good confessors can be found in fair proportions both among the religious and among the diocesan priests. Other prejudices concern individuals and arise from hearsay. This has been mentioned so frequently in the ~ommunications that it must be somewhat common, par, ticularly among Sisters. No ~onfessor should be judged by gossip; and as for the gossip itself, we feel that we could recommend many more profitable subjects of conversation. Even an unpleasant personal experience with a confes, sor should not be too readily interpreted in a derogatory fashion. One of the most difficult of all priestly works is the hearing of confessions.¯ The technique of doing it--if we may use such an expression--admits of constant improvement. The judgment concerning ask, the tone of voice see the penitent, he is whether the penitent confessor has to exercise exquisite such things as the precise question to to use, the advice to give. He cannot often unhble to judge from the voice is young or old; and at times he gets very little help from the penitent in the way of~clear and unequivocal statement. When troubles concerning other persons are mentioned, he knows that there is another side to the question, and he must give an answer that is fair to both sides. In view of such difficulties, it should not be surprising that a corifessor might occasionally make an unpleasant impression or even seem to misunderstand 195 THE EDITORS one's case. He is the minister of God; he is not God. A-final negative preparation for obtaining direction is this: .Don't expect too r~ucb froma confessor. In the com-munica. tions sent to the REVIEW, many priests expressed their opinion that the confessor should take the initiative and this in a very active way, such as, for example, asking definite questions: "Is there anything you wish to ask me?" "Can I help y.ou in any way?" and so forth. On the other hand, some priests have indicated that they do not approve of this method or at least they could not uie it. We feel justified in concluding that religious-would be unwise to expect such active initiative. Many may want it and feel that they could do better if the confessor would.make some such advance; but if they wait for. this they may never get spiritual direction. They have a right to expect the con= fessor to give help if they ask for it; also that the confessor will even give help spontaneously when something in the confession seems to call for it. These are the minimum essentials 'for all good confessqrs; but beyond these mini-mum essentials, there is a great diversity of practice. ~ ~ On the p6sitive side, the first, requisite for obtaining direction is to u~ant it. This implies a Sincere desire of progress and a willingness to do the hard work necessary for ~progress. One reason why" some confessors do not take the " initiative in this matter is that they know that many peni-ents would resent direction especially if it concerned the correction of certain inordinate attachments or humiliating faults. A second positive preparation for obtaining direction is to know what ~tou want. In other words, one should try to know oneself--one's ideals, talknts, temptations, faults, and so forth. Self-activity is necessary not merely for cooperation with direction but also as a preparation for it. In making the immediate preparation for confession, it 196 SURVEY ON SPIRITUAL DIRECTION helps much to say a prayer to the Holy Spirit, both foi one-self and for the confessor. This .is supernatural work or it is nothing. The whole purpose of it is to further the plans of God for individual souls; and, as we know, in God'~ ordinary prdvidence, He wants us to pray even for the things He is delighted to give us. The actual work of "breakifig the ice," especially with a new confessor or with one from whdm they have not pre-viously received spiritual guidance, is a serious problem for many religious. It really need not be a dread formality. Many helpful suggestions have been made in ohr various communications. One suggested ope.ning was: "Father, I should like to use my confessions as a means of making spiritual progress and of getting spiritual direction. Do you mind helping me?" Such an opening puts the priest "on the spot." If he doesn't wish to help, he must say so; and that means that he assumes the responsibility before God. He should not be hearing the confessions of religious. On the other hand, if he is willing to help, the initial difficulty of approach has been solved. Other suggested approaches were: "Father, will you please help me with my spiritual life? I have such and such ups and downs."--"I have trouble in the line of. "--"I j~ust fed the need of talking myself out."--"I know I need help, but I don't know Where to begin." The foregoing, or similar approaches, should be suffi- ¯ cient for any sympathetic priest. However, the mere fact that this initial contact has been made does not solve the entire problem. It may take some time for definite results to be produced; despite the willingness of both penitent and confessor. That is'one, reason why it is good, when pos-sible, for the penitent to have some definite plan to submit to the confessor. This plan need not be very ~omprehensive. Itmight begin with the simple attempt to make confession 197 THE EDITORS itself more fruitful; and from that it could grow out into the entire spiritual, life. Once a. begin.ning.has been made, the me~hod of carrying on the spiritual direction will have to be worked out by the confessor and penitent. In large communities the time element presents a real obstacle. How-ever, it is not insuperable. Very few penitents need direc-tion every week; a brief monthly consultation is generally sufficient. No one should resent it if the confessor were to suggest some method of spacing these monthly consulta-tions so that they would not all fall on the same day. Also, if both penit~ent and confessor understand that there is to be no beating about the bush, and if neither is offended by a certain directness of speech, much time can be saved. In his article on Cooperation with the Director, Father Coogan called attention to certain qualities that should characterize one who sincerely seeks direction. The first of these qualities, is humble candor. It is vain to ask for direc-tion if one does not wish t6 be honest, if one wishes .the director to know only One side of one's life. Along the same line, many correspondents have ~uggested that in con-fessing it is a good thing, even in regard to small faults, to give the confessor a more accurate picture of what has happened by indicating the circumstances and by confessing motives. Evidently such practices are not necessary for the corifession, but they are very helpful from the point of view of direction. It seems thai one obstacle to candor, particularly among Sisters, is an erroneous notion of charity and community loyalty. Many are under the .impression that the manifes-tation of certain difficulties regarding charity and obedience would be an unjustifiable reflection on the members of the community. This would be true if such things were recounted uselessly or if there were danger that the confessor would violate his obligation of secrecy. The danger on the 198 SURVEY (~N SPIRITUAL DIRECTION part of the confessor-is rarely preserit; hence, in ordinary circumstan, ces, the penitent may manifest everything that pertains to his own trials and faults. (Cf. Volume II, p. 141.) Father .Coogan also insisted strongly on docility. And rightly so; for it seems absurd to consult a spiritual director if one does not intend to follow his advice. However, ~this. spirit of docility does not necessarily involve blind obedi-ence, except in cases of severe trial, such as scruples, when one's own judgment is unbalanced. Normally, if one does not understand the meaning of the advice given, one should ask for further explanation rather tl~an try to follow.it irrationally. And if one ha's good reason to think that cer-tain advice would piove harmful or would not produce the desired results, one should mention this to the confessor. Such reasonable cooperation with direction is in perfect accord With humble docility. A. very practical aspect of confessional direction is the follow-up. Usually it is. better that the penitent take the ifiitiative in this. The confessor may be hesitant about referring to the past, lest he be talking to the wrong persbn. Some confessors have no di~culty in this respect, but others find it quite perplexing, even after they have heard the peni-tent's confession a number of times~ To avoid all risk,.the penitent should have a definite understanding .with the con-fessor. No one can give progressive direction without at least recognizing the case. Does it make for better cohfessional'direction if the con-fessor knows his penitents personally? Our communica-tions indicate that religibus are just like seculars in this mat-ter; some prefer to be recognized, others wish to remain unknown. In practice, this rule should .be observed: ant./ penitent who wishes the confessor to recognize him and to use his extra-confessional knowledge of him in giving direr- 199 THE EDITORS tion should make this quite clear and explicit to the cont:es: sot. Unless the penitent does this, the confessor is not likely to show any sign of recognition or take into account any of his personal extra-confessional knowledge of the penitent. , A final problem, especially practical among religioui in our country, concerns the changing of confessors. It often happens that one is just getting a good start or is going along quite nicely with one confessor,, when the religious himself is transferred or a new confessor is appointed. What is to be done? TWO extremes are to be avoided. One ~extreme is to think it necessary to give each new confessor a complete account of one's whole life history. This is surely going too far. Only in rare cases are these lengthy mani-festations really necessary for the confessor, and they are seldom helpful tc~ the penitent. On the other hand, it is not prudent to withhold all ¯ reference to the past from the confessor~ This is the other extreme. The new c6nfessor should be given a brief, but accurate, picture of thd penitent's main tendencies, and should be acquainted with the way in which, the former confessor was directing him. Without this minimum of information there is apt to be needless repetition and no real -progress. Concluding Remarks No doubt, much. remains, to be said about spiritual direction; but we think it best to close our discussion, at least fo'r .the present. Some readers may be under the impression that it is just like .many other discussions: much has been said, yet few definite conclusions have been drawn. Very likely such an impression is not v~thout foundation. Nevertheless, certainly some definite good has been accom~ plis~ed if interest has been stimulated and if some of the 200 SURVEY ON SPIRITUAL DIRECTION causes of misunderstanding and prejudice have been removed. Masters and mistresses of novices, can help to make this discussion fruitful if they see to it that their novices know hox¢ to get and cooperate with direction. Some may fihd the plan suggested by the Brbther master of novices (cf. I, p. 344) or some similar plan very useful. Superiors can ¯ help by seeing that the legitimate complaints of their sub-jects are lodged with the proper authorities and by .making it possible for their subjects to use the special privileges approved by the Church when this isnece.ssary. Some correspondents have told us that no real good can come from this discussion unless we can gdt the message to priests. This is a real difficulty, as we do not have a large number of priest subscribers. However, we know that the priest subscribers we have are interested in this project and that many of them have excellent opportunities to influence their fellow priests and seminarians. We feel sure that" they will help in preserving and propagating the useful points brought out in this discussion. PRAYERS FOR TIME OF WAR Father James Kleist, S.J. of St. Louis University, has composed a little booklet entitled The Great Prayer Noto--in time o[ War. The booklet contains a transla-tion of the Ordinary of the Mass, and translations of the proper parts of the Mass for the Twentieth Sunday after Pentecost, the Mass in Time of War, and the Mass. for Peace. To these, Father Kleist has added some special Collects relating to Divine Providence, and some ~.'ery appropriate comments and reflections. The translation of the Collects is that by Sister M. Gonzaga Haessly, O.S.U., in her Rhetoric in the Sunda~t Collects o~ the Roman Missal (Ursuline College, Cleveland, Ohio: 1938). All thd translations in the booklet are very readable and seem to us to be especially meaningful. The booklet is published by The Queen's Work, 3742 West Pine Blvd., St.Louis, Mo. Price: ten cents a copy. 201 Decisions I-Ioly . ee April .9, 1943: The Sacred Penitentiary issued a decree by which His Holiness, Pope Pius XII, grants a partial indulgence of 300 days, and a plenary indulgence to be gained once a month under the.usual conditions, for the recitation of the following prayer: :'Most Holy Trinity we adore Thee and through Mary offer Thee our petition. Grant to all unity in the faith and ,courage to profess it unwaveringly." April 9, 1943: The Sacred Congregation of Rites reintroduced the cause of ~anonization of Blessed Rose-Philippine Duchesne, of the Society of the Sacred Heart, who was beatified in 1940. This means that new favors considered true miracles have been obtained through her intercession since hei beatification, and have ~been submitted to.the Sacred Congregation of Rites. March 29, 1943: His Holiness, Pope Pius XII wrote a letter to tl~e ¯ president of the A'ssociation of Italian Youth to mark the seventieth anniversary of this Association. !n this letter His Holiness recom-mended reciprocal social concord between all rfiembers of the.associa-tion "to whateeer class or condition 6.f life they may belong; whether they ~e manual laborers or in intellectual employment, whether they be of humble families or of illustrious families and wealthy, let them love one another with Christian love as brothers." While recommending love of country, Pope Pius XII emphasized" the duty of Christians "to embrace the universal human family in the divine love of 2esus Christ, whhtever be their descent or race." tually," His Holiness stated, "love of fatherIand does not exclude or nullify the fraternal community of all peopleL nor does the mutual bond between ~11 men lessen.the love due to one's native land." December 19, 1942: The Sacred Penitentiary issued a decree in ~vhi~h'!t made. known that His Holiness,. Pope Pius XII, has granted a.plenary indulgence to persons in any city or in any other place in time of air raids, who, being contrite of heart, make a true act of love of .God, . and, being sorry for their sins, recite in any language "'2esu miserere mei" ("Jesus, have mercy on me"). The ordinary condi-tion of Confession and Communion is dispensed with; perfect con-trition is necessary and Sufficient. The indulgence may be gainedonly in time of an actual air rhid. 202 Book/ ev ews MORAL GUIDANCE. By the Reverend Edwin F. Healy, S.J.: .S.T.D., Mag. Agg. Pp. xli nL- 351. (Teacher's Manual supplied.) Loyola University Press, Chicago, 1942; $2.00. Father Healy's book c~ontains the essentials of what is ordinarily termed "the first section of Moral Theology." Two preliminary chapters explain the more important general principles of ethics and Christian morality. Subseque~at chapters treat of each of -The Ten Commandments; the Laws of Fast and Abstinence; Forbidden Books; the Duties of 3udges, Lawyers, .Doctors, Nurses, Business-men, and Public Officers. Each chapter contains topics for discussion, practical cases to be solved, and a bibliography. The Teacher's Man-ual offers the teacher plenty of material for the discussions (which generally go beyond' the text) and sound solutions to the cases. The experienced teacher could probably improve on the bibliography. Moral Guidance is primarily a.text for college students who have had general and special ethics. The author's purpose is to make the student more conscious of Christian standards of morality and to enable him to solve the practical moral problems 9f everyday life. In this reviewer's opinion, the book could be taught profitably even to those who.have not had ethics. It would also make a good study club text. Finally, and most important in so far as our readers are con-cerned, it would be a real blessing if a course like this, supplemented by an explanation of the moral obligations pertaining to the Sacraments," were made a standard part of the training of all non-clerical religious, ~ men and women. May God speed the day!~G. KELLY, S.,J. THE PATH OF HUMILITY. By the author of "Spiritual Progress, etc. Pp. 292. The Newman Book Shop, Westminster, Md., 1942. $2.00. This is an anonymous reprint of a widely appreciated treatise on humility by the great French spiritual director, Canon Beaudenom." who died in 19~ 6. Although the book takes the form of a series of meditations, grouped into five weeks, it lends itself, at least, in parts, to straight spiiitual reading, mainly on account of its crisp, li~,ely style. However," allowances must be made for some Gallic exuber-ance, particularly in the prayers. The author presents a rather thor-ough treatment of the virtue of humility, from both the natural and 203 BOOK REVIEWS supernatural points of view. He expresses sdund doctrine, displays a good deal of psychological insight, but could improve considerably in orderliness of presentation. He does not remain merely ifi the abst~ract, but shows how-humility was practised by our Lord, His Blessed Mother, and the saints. He also tells in a practical way how to make humility the basis of one's spiritua~l life and how to focus the ge:neral and particular examens of conscience upon it. All in a11, it is one of the best treatises on humility in English. The Newman Book Shop is doing priests and religious a real servic~ by reprinting this classic ~nd others out of print for some time. To have reedi~ed and modernized them would have been still more ~c.ceptable.--,A. KL^AS, S.3. ST"CHARLES BORROMEO. By the Most Reverend Ceser, Orsenlgo. Trenslated by 'the Reverend Rudolph Kraus, Ph.D., S.T.D. Pp. 340. ¯ B. Herder Book Co., St. Louis, 194:~. $4.00. The literature on St. Charles is extensive. The present work, however is not just "another biography." Seldom are a book's "credentials of such worth. Though presented to English readers (the translation is excellent) in 1943 for the first time, it has been valued as a classic in European countries for many years. Father Agostino Ge-melli, O.F.M.; in the pieface, tells us that "this biography . . . was first published~between 1908 and 1910, appearing at regular times in a.monthly review . . . Monsignor Achille Ratti was the director of this review for twer~ty-six months when he was~Prefect of the Am-brosian Library. One of his chief collaborators in the monthly in-stallments'of this biography was Father Cesare Orsenigo, then engaged in the care of souls in one of the ~most. distinguished city parishes. Monsignor Ratti became Pope Plus XI. Father Orsenigo became Apostolic Nuncio to Germany." That such collaboration on the part of Milanese ecclesiastics, scholars working just where Borromean documents abounded, and giving evidence in their subsequent lives of the profound manner in which they had been influenced and i.nspired by their familiarity with St. Charles--that such collaboration should result in a work of special value, we could confidently expect. That such h~s, in fact, been the result, the serious reader will admit. The book does not make easy reading. The author has ~acrificed whatever would serve only to capture the reader's attention: the -"human interest" tduches that¯ season the usual popular biography 204 BOOK' REVIEWS are not to ArchbishopOrsenigo's taste un'le~s they definitely h;ive more thah entertainment value. The life of the saint is presented, for'the most part, not in chronological order of events, but~as a regrouping of "the rich biographical material topically, into,cl~apters that are dis-tin'ct and complete p!ctures." Each chapter is a study rather than a narrative, and demands attentiv~ reading. Of course, St. Charles led a highly dramatic life, especially from the time of his elevation to the position of Cardinal Secretary of State at the age of twenty-two until his death as the saintly Archbishop of Milan twenty-four years later. But Orsenigo's concern is chiefly with wha~ that life meant for the Church and for the reformation of Christian life. The saint's example is set forth for all Christians, but especially for bishdps and priests-- and it is to this" group of readers that the book. is .specially recom-mended. Religious will find it full of inspiration, and many chapters of particular interest to religiods are admirably suited to community reading. A cover-to-dover reading of the book, however, is hardly advisable as a community project.--C. DEMUTH, S.,I. THE KING;S ADVOCATE. By Simone de Noaillat-Ponvert. Translated from the French by Mary Golden Donnelly. Pp. 260. The Bruce Pub-lishing Company, Milwaukee, 1942. $2.7S. The Feast of Christ the King takes on a new meaning when.one reads the life story of the remarkable Martha de Noaillat, who, as Cardinal Laurenti writes, "worked more than all others" to make t!~at feast a reality. Little was known outside France of her zealous. apostol!c Work until Simone de Noaillat, her sister-in-law, gave the world an intimate picture of this heroic and dauntless woman who overcame all obstacles to achieve her dream. Possessed of'keen intelligence, striking personality, and intense supernatural energy, Mine. de Noaillat early in life underwent, a severe trial in h~r repeated failure to sustain her health in the religious life. When iorced to return home, she found solace in a vigorous lay apostolate of charitieS, teaching, and lectures. During the persecution of the religious orders she assumed a leading r'ole in'a patriotic league of French women whose purpose was to arouse Cath-o! ics to defend their cause. But she discovered her true life work in the "Society of the Reign," which she made vibrate with life when she saw in it the possibility of promoting the establis~hmeni of a feast in honor of Christ the King. In company w~th her husband,'George 205 BOOK REVIEWS de Noaillat, Martha pleaded with bishops, cardinals, and popes until she persuaded them of the urgency of the cause she was championing. Once success had crowned her work, her joy was complete. She did not long survive the first dehbration of the Feast of Christ the King, which she attended in Rome. The biogr.apher has given many details~of Martha's life that reveal her thoroughly human side as well as her spiritual stature: her family concerns, her travels, her notes, her work during the War. There is a little stiffness.or formality in the account of Martha's life up to the time when her sister-in-law came to know her pdrsonally. Then, too, her sanctity is given such an "ivory tower" cast that one is scarcely prepared for her marriage when it comes. But once the biographer knows her as a member of her own family, the. narrative is excellent. The translator succeeds rather well for the most part in turning the original French into smooth, natural English. This book should prove especially interesting as reading in the refectory. --FRANKLIN MURRAY, S.J. JESUS AND I. Revlseci Leaflet Edition. By the Reverend Aloyslus J. Heeg, S.J. Pp. 216. The Queen's Work, SI'. Louis, 1942. I set-- $.50: 3--$1.00: 25--~-' $7.50: 100---$25.00; 1000--$200.00. The main feature of this new leaflet edition is the ificorporation of the First Communion Catechism prepared from The Revised Edi-tion- of The Baltimore Catechism. The entire text of the latter is given and is used in conjunction with Father Heeg's text, with questions and games throughout. Each lesson contains essential features of Father Heeg's well-recognized system: l) an outline picture to be colored and which is used as a focal point for teaching a particular lesson: 2) the game of "What is left out?" consisting of the very psychological method of questioning called "fill.ins"; and 3) a set of further questions which again review the child's knowledge of Father Heeg's text and the" Revised Baltimore, Use.of this booklet has "already giyen many teachers of children convincing evidence and confidence that the author is a master child-psychologist and a teacher of teachers. The text mhy be used as a correspondence course (its original pur-pose), for homework, workbooks, tests, or as a guide to the" proper method of teaching the essentials of the catechism, the meaning of the prayers and the life of Christ.---A. LEVET, S.J. 206 BOOK REVIEWS THE LARKS OF UMBRIA. By Alber~ Paul Sch|mberg. Pp. 237. The Bruce Publishing Company, Miwaukee, i942. $2.75. ~With a-storyteller'.s approach, the author sets forth a vivid nar-rative that is meant to catch the reader's attention by its freshness and dramatic effect. In this way, the tale of the little poor man ,is told again, and we see Francis of Assisi and his first companions brought' to life as. they live and a3reach the things of the Gospel, new and old. Like the larks of Umbria, Francis's much admired friends, the mir~ores sing of God and God's creation, a spectacle to men and angels in their flight to God. Thus, unlike pedantic and laborious studies which have cast .introspective gloom over the story of the earl~r Franciscans,. .this book is an ad hoc attempt to interpret in the spirit of the Fioretti, the. single-mindedness of a man who startled the contemporary world by the way he saw eye to eye with God. Many of the old legends are repealed, but there is no mistaking them for historical fact, and the author is to be highly commended for his clever animation of the dead bones of history by the infusion of .simple and lifelike tales that breathe the spirit of the Poverello. In keeping with an idyllic love story, the author has set himself to a much higher task than a repetition of well-known facts, and those who want to see the sunshine of God in their saints should find satis-faction in this artistic portrayal. Readers of this book will find the illustrations in a class of their own, and will be able to choose further reading on the subject from the appended English bibliography. --F. 3". MALECEK, S.,J. THE BETTER LIFE.The True Meaning of Terfiar;sm. By the Reverend Kil;an J. Hennrlch, O.F.M.Cap. Pp. x-~-326. Joseph F. Wagner, Inc., NewYork, 1942. $2.50. The whole inner splendor, the. excellence of Tertiarism must b~ derived from its purpose. All Third Orders Secular aim at one thing: to assist seculars, non-religious, in keeping inviolate their Baptismal promises. Tertiarism, therefore, appears as more excellent, as more appealing when seen, not in its historical or juridical aspects, but in its theology. Since Tertiarism was devised to insure the fruitfulness of B~p-tism, it is intimately connected with all the means of grace. Its the-ology, then, must be enunciated in the function of the Sacraments. Such, briefly, is the outlook taken by the author of The Better Life, 207 Book REVIEW~ His development takes the following fo~m: a section of the book is devoted to the task of showing how the Tertiary Rule is related to each Sacrament. Baptism, for example, is compared to the Third Order ritual for investment. Baptism initiates a soul into the Church: investment introduces one into an Order of penance. Promises to love God and shun the works of Satan are exacted in both rituals. Perti-nent quotations from the Tertiary Rule show h6w minute obliga-tions assumed, by Third Order member~ are really means of avoiding the effects of the capital sins. All the Sacraments are treated in this way. In addition to these sections, which constitute the body of book, there are two additional chapters and two appendices: "Making Tertiarism Known," "A Postscript to Religious," "Tertiarism in General," "Tertiarism and Catholic Action." The book will appeal most to Tertiary directors and those' already familiar with Third Orderqife. Too much previous knowl-edge of Tertiarism is presumed by the author to warrant the judgment that the general reader would find the book helpful. ~T. C. DONOHUE, S.J., FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE. By the Reverend Gerald T. Brennan. Pp. 126. The Bruce Publishing Company, Milwaukee, 1942. $1.75. Children from six to sixty love a story. Story telling is admit-tedly the most ancient of-arts and it was going on before the time of Homer. All great literature is but story telling. The Divine Teacher, 2esus Christ, in His infinite wisdom deemed it His most potent weapon in His teaching. His' stories remain unsurpassed masterpieces. In For Heaven's Sake, Father Brennan again wafts us to Angel City and spins tales of irresistible vividness and appeal; he tells true stories, outlandish stories, fairy stories, legendary stories, old stories, new stories and any other kind you can think of with an unerring instinct forthe right details.-He uses familiar names like Father Duffy, Knute Rock~ae, Aberdeen Angus, and unearths ear-catching ones, like Peewee the Frpg, Smir the Devil, and White Cloud, which of themselves will enthrall the youngster. But this book is more than stories. It contains 35.effective ser-monettes, "Little Talks for Little Folks." Each story is a point of departure for.Father Brennan's inimitable treatment df topics for mod-ern children; he solves their problems, and indicates their duties by 208 BOOK REVIEWS imiking them ~ee, l~ear, and feel the cl~ara~te~ of :his ~ stories. He stresses the Heaven of For Heaoen's Sake. A conveniefit index list~ the wide range of topics. 'This little book will be found practical and delightful by priests, Sisters, parents, children and anybody. ~A. LEVET, S.J. WE WISH TO SEE JESUS. By Paul L. Blakely,~ S.J. Pp. xi -1- 144. The America Press, New York, 1942. $2.00. "The hour will come when the last sands of our life are running out. Happy shall we be if we have spent those moments we call life with our eyes fixed., on God. In that hour we shall see Him." Since concluding his reflections on the last'Sunday after Pentecost ~with these wor